#alternate title no longer human in another world lol

[willel]

Ok, last random post for the night. This whole Vecna thing, one of the episode titles.

TLDR: This Vecna situation. "Vecna", I believe, WAS a person from an alternate Hawkins...? In an alternate Hawkins, maybe they were the prized experiment in a lab somewhere (001, who goes unmentioned in all alternate media). A psychic so unnaturally powerful (and abused/hurt like El and Kali were) they destroyed their own world?

Something once human that probably can no longer speak words, destroyed their version of the world long ago and is looking for a new place to call home?

Ok so, you can read the rest now if you want. It's sloppy, long, and probably wrong. Lol. I'm just trying to think through this. If you read all this, you're a champ. I'm totally up to discussion afterwards as well. So here it goes below!

======================================

I hadn't heard of it till now, but I'm happy to see it's yet another dnd monster. Last season there was hardly any ties to dnd or the Montauk Project unlike previous two seasons.

I think they may be going back to their roots. So what is Vecna?

Vecna (pronounced: /ˈvɛknɑː/ VEK-nah[1]) was a once-human lich from Oerth who ascended to godhood.

As a deity, Vecna did not claim a domain, but instead wandered the entire multiverse.[15] He maintained the Citadel of Cavitius, originally on the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Ash near the border to the Negative Energy plane, which he had wrested away from the Doomguard long before.[16] The Citadel was used by Vecna as his fortress, which he visited regularly, to gloat on the despair of his defeated enemies.[12] Later, it became his prison as it was drawn into the Domains of Dread by the Dark Powers.

So, I don't believe this has anything to do with the Mind Flayer/Demogorgon/Demodogs, at least, not in dnd canon. But neither does the Demogorgon and Mind Flayer, or the Mind Flayer and an army of doggos. So it's fine and not new.

If I had to guess where they're going with this, Vecna IS the Mind Flayer, but the Mind Flayer and all it smoky glory is more like a projection. A tool which Vecna uses to do whatever. Whether it's controlling its weirdo beasts, possessing people, moving flesh, etc.

I'm assuming the theory that the Upside Down is an alternate universe of sorts is true. The Hawkins we see in the Upside Down is just another Hawkins on a different plane of existence, one that whoever Vecna is originates from or they just dominated it? One that ended earlier?

The part about "later became his prison" is also interesting. It kind of lines up with past seasons. The Mind Flayer does act like it's stuck there and is trying to get out in any way possible doesn't it?

We've been wondering all this time what the Mind Flayer wanted. If something is trapped there, like Vecna, then they'd want to well. Escape. Like a "Crap. I really messed up this world. But at the same time I don't really care to fix it. Onto the next!"

It says he's well versed in multiverses. He can hop to whatever dimension he wants if circumstances are right. Maybe he HAS done that plenty of times, but this time was the first time he was met with his match? (El slamming the door in his smokey face, his chosen vessel Will being rescued)

When I first got into this fandom right after season 2's release, people were still speculating about the other numbers. The comics didn't exist yet, but as time went on, there was something mysterious about the numbers. #1 was never mentioned I think. Not even in the comics. (granted, I stopped reading most of them a while ago so I could be wrong).

If we're toying with multiverses here, the idea that the smallest decisions can have a butterfly affect and change the future, well, who is to say every other possible timeline of Hawkins happened the same way?

======================================

Let me slow down here. I did mention it seems to be going back to their roots. The original Montauk Project Conspiracy theory.

I haven't read the Montauk Project, most of my knowledge comes from articles and summaries by smarter people than I. So let's go over it a little bit huh? (I'll link the article in a reblog, if I link it here, tumblr will hide this post from the tags)

The Montauk Project is a huge government conspiracy crafted by a few old strange guys.

Sound familiar? Stranger Things (and many Hollywood movies) have taken bits of pieces of this conspiracy and crafted them into their sci-fi/horror stories. Stranger Things shares so many similarities to the original conspiracy theory that some guy claimed the Duffers Brothers stole the idea from him (even though when you read the script the only similarities they have are from the Montauk Project, just like every other Hollywood movie that borrows from it)

Every theory I've made for Stranger Things, mostly involving Will's potential powers, is based on this conspiracy. There's still some information I was told by someone else second hand that I can't find in these articles so I guess someday I'll have to read it and get the reference myself. Urg.

Let's go over the similarities and why I think the Vecna plot is taken from the Montauk Project conspiracy.

Abducted children: Unsurprising, a key part of the conspiracy is about how kids were abducted. The conspiracy focused on how boys were the desired subjects but that's boring so I'm glad ST ditched that (also, weird Nazi "aryan race genes" bullshit)

Portals: Another similarity are portals to alternate dimensions and timelines. There's some time travel shenanigans that I THINK ST dropped. But with the 1950's era of the 003 trailer, who can say.

A device to enhance powers: This was kind of dropped after season 1, but found its way into the story in other ways. In the Montauk Project conspiracy, they have a device to enhance the powers of their psychic children. A chair. They strap em into the chair and can do various things. Their prized subject, "Duncan" was the one powerful enough to open portals and all that using the chair. The ST equivalent is "The Bath", the silence/static El uses to hone her powers.

Remote Viewing: This is another power El has that is referenced in the conspiracy. Specifically that, “...‘The Seeing Eye.’ With a lock of a person’s hair or other appropriate object in his hand, Duncan could concentrate on the person and be able to see as if he was seeing through their eyes, hearing through their ears, and feeling through their body. He could actually see through other people anywhere on the planet.” This, imo, is more similar to Will's true sight, but I think it's meant to be El's powers.

Summoning a monster: In the Montauk Project conspiracy, they use their prized subject, "Duncan", to summon some kind of beast. The concept is similar to what happened in ST, but El summoned the Demogorgon by accident (as did her captors). In the Montauk Project, it seems as though they summoned the monster on purpose to have an excuse to shut down the experiments.

NOW WITH THAT ALL SAID AND DONE, I'd like to get to a few things that aren't in ST that I think is related to Vecna.

======================================

References to leaving people in other dimensions:

Quick note, I am NOT going to touch the certain abuse allegations mentioned above.

Here you can see a reference to the idea of leaving people (in this case, defenseless children) in the portals and some of them never returning.

The power to manifest things out of thin air:

This is not what El does in season 1. She accidentally opens a portal and a monster happened to be on the other side.

Psychic Powers can be jammed:

This is taken right from the Montauk book. Weren't there references to Will and El hearing things in season 4? It may just be related to this.

Aliens:

Yeah. There's talk about "grey aliens" and how they were the ones that originally kidnapped the children and delivered them to the government I guess??? (the reason I haven't read these books is because overall they make no goddamn sense. lol). I mean, I guess the demogorgon resembles a gray alien right??

======================================

Sigh. Alright alright. So. It's time for me to try and tie all this together. Bare with me. Are you still along for the ride? Let's try to craft a stupid theory together!

First, let me say this. I love the small town feel in horror movies and sci-fi movies. I don't think this theory breaks that mold, not entirely.

Think of some "horror" movie classics. You got the supernatural horror from Poltergeist. Or the sci-fi horror of The Thing.

In both these stories there's a bigger world, a bigger plot affecting our main characters that they don't totally understand (or don't live long enough to see it through)

In Poltergeist, it was essentially the realm of the spirits who pulled Carol-Anne into their dimension and her mother had to go in and save her. (among the other crazy stuff that happened in that movie). It's very similar to season 1. We don't even see the spirit realm in the movie unlike the Upside Down.

Then you've got The Thing. It's literally an alien story. A horrifying intelligent alien trying to get to a large population of people to spread and spread and spread and when it's done it wants to go to other planets and spread some more. But, this story is only taking place on a base in Antarctica.

What I'm saying is, I think conceptually, this is how the Upside Down should be viewed, as well as the future villain.

I think the future villain is an inhabitant of the Upside Down. I think the Upside Down is an alternate universe of right-side-up Hawkins. But how?

Think of it this way. The Montauk Project/Hawkins Lab... US vs Russia. It's all Cold War crap. And what was the Cold War? It was a period of time where everyone was convinced the world would be destroyed via nuclear wipeout. A world ending calamity.

So think of it this way. What if that did happen in the alternate Hawkins, but it wasn't nuclear death... but a subject/experiment gone awry?

The Montauk Project conspiracy does not shy away from the abuse the abducted children suffered and how mentally broken and damaged they were even after their minds were "wiped".

Imagine a child so abused and angry that they.... with all their might and power... destroyed the world? A vengeful experiment with the power to end the world?

Yes, that is my theory I guess. (ahhhh this sounds so silly I'm sorry). A subject in the alternate Hawkins was so strong he ended that world, and transcended beyond his mortal means. I think this subject could be 001, the one they never mention anywhere else.

But what about the one in the right-side-up in Hawkins? Well, it is al alternate dimension. Every little twitch of the finger can produce a different future. In the right-side-up, this experiment, 001, did not become powerful enough to destroy the world.

But El, 011, sorta did? Or at least, she is the most powerful psychic to come out of the experiments in HER timeline.

001 is the equivalent of the spirit in the Poltergeist movie that kidnaps Carol-Anne.

001 is the equivalent of the alien from The Thing that wants to spread and destroy.

001 is Vecna? Vecna is 001 from an alternate dimension that already destroyed his own world and wants to spread.

You know how we say Kali is the El that let hatred consume her? Well. 001 is the Kali who not only let hatred consume them, but had the power to do something crazy about it.

Hm, I don't believe this contradicts anything that has happened in the previous seasons thus far. Honestly, Vecna+Mind Flayer lore kind of fit together in a way. Powerful entity that has conquered worlds?

So now you ask, "What is 001's power to do that?"

I believe 001's power is the power to manifest objects or anything really. This was the power of the Montauk's Projects main subject, something that El doesn't do.

So a child with the power to manifest anything they want whenever they want. You thought the Demogorgon was bad? Oof.

001 could've done that. Destroyed their world. Became metaphysical. All that jazz.

El could've encountered one of their many creations (the demogorgon) not only by accident, but because of their similar circumstances. Like finding crumbs left behind by someone else.

As for the identity of 001, I don't know. It'd have to be someone older than all the kids. Probably someone closer to Steve or Jonathan/Nancy's age. After all, El is 011. I dunno if they gave Kali an age, but she is still at least 4 to 5 years older than El and she's only 008.

This also leads me to Will. For years, I've questioned why the Demogorgon kinda singled him out. Why why was he chased when he wasn't bleeding. Why when he was caught wasn't he killed like literally everyone else. Why the Mind Flayer was so desperate to have him. All that?

It has lead me to this answer. All these psychic people/things share some similarities and so does Will. Something specific with 001.

Manifesting objects?

You see, in season 2, the Mind Flayer goes into Will in the middle of Will's uncontrollable "True Sight" episodes. But the Mind Flayer comes OUT of Will in the real world.

Will is possessed during a psychic episode, but when the Mind Flayer is yeeted from his physical body, it too is made real.

I dunno, what if the stars aligned for the Mind Flayer/Vecna and he's like "At last. Someone with this specific power that I need to go to this other realm."

Don't get me wrong, Will isn't gonna be closing his eyes and wishing for a bajillion dollars and suddenly it's gonna be made real. It, like True Sight, is probably something he can't control on his own. Maybe if he were an experiment like the others, but he's not.

======================================

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. MY WHOLE RAMBLING THOUGHT PROCESS.

To summarize again because I think even the tldr kinda sucks:

Vecna is 001 from the Upside Down that destroyed their own world once upon of time and is no longer a thinking feeling human but more like an intelligent force of nature (like a tornado of doom).

Vecna == Mind Flayer, Mind Flayer is just their smokey projection or something.

El is the first time Vecna has encountered someone even close to their power.

Will is a useful tool for spreading/traveling.

The "Vecna" in their world, 001, is probably unlike his alternate self and maybe insane because of the hardships? I dunno.

How do they fix all this crap? I dunno. I guess make sure the government (whether it's the US or Russia) isn't giving him another way in.

[mythicandco]

Amphibia AUs I Want to Write, Have Started Writing, or Want to Share so Someone Else Can Write Them For M- I mean get inspired by them

Just a quick dump of a few of the AUs I have in my brain right now. 

And you know what? I’m putting it under the cut because’s its pretty freaking long. 

Dasha AU - Sasha pushes Marcy out of the way. The result is pure calamity.  - Sasha gets stabbed instead of Marcy - Anne is still sent to Earth with the Plantars, and her adventures up to her return to Amphibia pretty much follow canon - Marcy and Grime are forced to get along and organize a rebellion. It goes... better than I thought it was going to, honestly (this is probably my favorite part of the AU) - Sasha is, surprisingly, much easier to manipulate than Marcy - Olivia and Yunan only go to Sasha as a last resort with plans to ditch her as soon as they get a chance. They just need her brute strength to get them out of the castle and figure out a way to stop Andrias - Based off of two separate dreams I had

The “Good” Ending AU - Sasha manages to hold off Andrias for a few seconds longer, and Anne pulls Marcy into the portal with her. No one gets stabbed, no one gets possessed (yet-).  - Grime, Sasha, Olivia and Yunan all end up in Wartwood after Grime and Yunan decide independently that jumping out of a window is the best option  - Joe Sparrow is so done with how many people he has to carry today - The Core is absolutely pissed and Andrias’ efforts are doubled in an attempt to retrieve Marcy for its plans - Maybe corrupted!Anne? Definitely Marcanne (and later, Sashannarcy, because I am going down with my ship) - It came to me as though in a vision while I was scrolling through the Amphibia Wiki (AKA I saw a meme and got inspired)

The “Vrrrr” AU - Amphibia is an evil video game. That’s it that’s the AU - The Calamity Box is a game console that latches onto someone and “transports” them to the world of Amphibia  - In reality, while you’re living a video game fantasy, the box basically becomes a full-body V.R. suit that controls your physical actions while your mind is in the game - Probably connected to the Core somehow? I should add that the V.R. suit looks like Darcy’s armor, I thought that was a fun touch - Based off of a roleplay I did with my brother a little while ago - Slowly, the player forgets the world outside the game, and thinks that doing the Core’s bidding is “just another level”  - Probably just Marcy who’s affected, but there might be a freaky NPC!Anne and NPC!Sasha (don’t worry, the real versions exist, too, but the ones in the game are created to help make the fantasy more real) - It’s a high possibility Anne and Sasha are originally put in-game as well, but manage to break free and/or log in from somewhere else to help snap Marcy out of the simulation - There might be human!Amphibians? That’d be kinda cool actually, let’s go with that - If you die in the game, you die in real life - The Box is either from an alien planet or created using alien technology. Andrias is some kind of scientist who originally discovered the box/created it using said alien tech. Everything mechanical from the alien planet is connected to the Core (which in this AU is just a supercomputer, probably not a bunch of minds) and Andrias goes on to serve it like in canon 

Dystopian AU - Andrias and the Core’s invasion is successful, Amphibia bleeds into Earth, and the world is sapped of its resources. (Possible alternate title: “Dysphibian AU”) - Anne, the Plantars, Sasha, some other Amphibians, etc. are part of a rapidly-weakening rebellion on Earth - Everyone thinks Marcy is dead, save for Olivia and Yunan who know the awful truth (or maybe everyone knows? I’m not sure yet) - Polly builds robots and made Anne a mechanical arm because we stan one-armed!Anne  - She probably also made Sasha a bionic eye, but that might not be until later in the story - Amphibia was destroyed or is uninhabitable for some reason - Maybe zombies? MAYBE MUSHROOM ZOMBIES??  - This is a few years after canon, the girls are sixteen by now - Not sure if this one has a happy ending or not, there’s probably two versions lol  - This is actually based off of a really cool lucid dream I had

Amphibiland/Beta AU -  Just my own take on the Beta AU. Nothing too fancy here.  - Marcy has lived in Amphibiland all of her life (may or may not have arrived as a young child and simply suffered memory loss, who knows), and is basically trying on a new outfit every day. She specializes in long-range combat and magic - Sasha arrived in Amphibiland when she was thirteen, and has been there for three years since then. She climbs through the ranks of the Toad Army very quickly and is the general of the army in this AU  - Anne arrives the day after her 16th birthday and her misadventures follow canon fairly closely except she’s a bit “edgier”  - Sasha and Marcy were actually close allies, since they were the only humans in Amphibiland and had to stick together. However after her quick rise to power, it started getting to Sasha’s head and she’s started a rebellion against Andrias - Both Sasha and Marcy can use their Calamity powers, but they can’t control them very well  - Sasha’s manifests mainly as her sword glowing with pink mist and being able to cut through anything with relative ease as well as an almost subconcious manipulation of those around her that she probably doesn’t even notice, and Marcy’s is more like moving objects without her intending to do so (it’s my AU so I took some creative liberties that I don’t necessarily consider canon to the show) - All ships involving Sasha are suddenly a lot more toxic, I swear that wasn’t intentional it was just an unwanted side effect  - There are multiple “Calamity Artifacts” - Sasha uses some kind of shield thing, no idea how Marcy got here, and Anne uses a music box as in canon - I should probably create a separate post for all the lore I’ve got on this one, I’ll make sure to update once I finish writing that 

Wow, that was a lot of AUs! I never realized I had quite so many... Anyways, please ask me about ‘em, I will ramble for days and I love me some angst. I probably won’t write a ton of stuff, but we’ll see! 

Note: All of these AUs are my own ideas. Even though one or two of them are related to other, similar AUs or memes depicting ideas in the AU, ultimately the particular stories are mine and I came up with them independently from others. I know there are lots of Dasha AUs out there, but I came up with this one on my own. If you want to use my AUs for something, tell me first. Or at least credit me. Thanks! 

TL;DR:  Dasha AU: Sasha gets possessed. Marcy ends up with Grime in Wartwood. Title is fairly self-exclamatory.  The “Good” Ending AU: Marcy AND Anne get sent to Earth. No one is stabbed or possessed yet.  The “Vrrrr” AU: Amphibia is an evil video game controlled by the Core. Or something like that. Dystopian AU: Andrias and the Core succeed. Anne and Sasha are part of a rebellion. Amphibia is a barren, uninhabitable wasteland and Earth isn’t much better. Also pretty self-exclamatory.   Amphibiland/Beta AU - Literally just the Beta AU with my own spin on it. That’s it. 

[vegalocity]

The Story (red groom AU)

I wasn't gonna make you guys suffer too long with the Bad End Alternate end lol, here have a more comedic part of the Princess Bride AU, picks up directly after the last part

--

“Grandpaaaaa you said you'd skip over the kissing stuff!”

“Sheesh! Complain complain! You know one day you're gonna WANT to start kissin' people and parts like this 'll be WAY more interesting to you!”

“Gross!”

“Fine fine! To tell the truth, the big romantic gesture of the Prince reuniting with his love Qi Xiaotian was rather short lived, you'll remember Prince Red Son had quite the temper and though his true rage had been quelled by the realization that Xiaotian had been alive this whole time, the prince had plenty more to be angry with him over-”

–

“WHY! DID! YOU! NEVER! SEND! WORD!” every word was punctuated by a smack to Xiaotian's shoulder as the two of them began to venture through the forest, in attempts to shake Red Son's likely murderous fiance while at the same time make their way to safety. “I! THOUGHT! YOU! DEAD! I! MOURNED! YOU! FOR! TWO! WHOLE! YEARS!”

Xiaotian was taking the assault with good humor, Red Son's anger was second to none, but his body was still weak from his attempt attack him earlier and with little strength in his limbs from burn wounds abound Xiaotian was carrying him through the forest, so his blows were barely inspiring feeling let alone pain.

“And I'll be apologizing for that in everything I do for another ten.” He agreed as Red Son paused for breath, turning his head to nudge Red Son's cheek with his nose. “and for every tear you've shed over it I swear to make you laugh ten times more.”

The Prince turned as red as his hair at such a declaration before stiffly reaching upward to pull a thin branch out of the way of hitting either of them as they continued on their path.

“...Why are you taking the Monkey King's title? Was the whole story they told back home a lie?”

“...Well it wasn't entirely a lie- oh thank you.”

“I did meet the Monkey King, he was just as great as the stories say.” the sun glistened in Xiaotian's eyes as he began the story.

“But I'd kindaaaa been kidnapped by some bandits at the time and was next on the menu when they'd ran into Sun Wukong's caravan. Eating ME was set aside at the opportunity to eat Tang Sanzang instead, but like, what, was I gonna let a bunch of jerks EAT the Golden Cicada? So I helped him escape just as Sun Wukong broke down the doors to their stronghold to rescue his master.

“This is the part that was truthful, since Sun Wukong thought I was another bandit and was gearing up to take care of me too, I pleaded my case, said 'please' to him and got his curiosity. I don't think he belived me, but his master took then to speak up and insist I was honest, as I'd helped free him.

“He still didn't trust me, but since I had nowhere else to go I ended up traveling with them for a small bit of time. With his true sight Sun Wukong knew I was human, but that didn't mean he knew if I was a threat or not, which... you know... fair... But I helped them a couple more times for when their master was stolen by other demon lords looking to make a meal out of him- and hoo boy aren't we lucky that your dad is smarter than to pick a fight with the Monkey King because seeing him fight up close is... wow...”

“Don't underestimate my father Noodle Boy.” Red Son responded reflexively.

“Haha, sorry. But anyway, one day Sun Wukong pulls me aside, still in view of his brothers and master so I don't think he's gonna kill me or anything, but... like... yeah I'm expecting him to tell me I'd overstayed my welcome with their traveling party and it was time for me to get lost.” He set Red Son down on the side of a massive tree trunk to hop the short distance to the ground and lifting him back up. “So imagine my surprise when the first thing out of his mouth is 'How would you like to be the Great Sage Equaling Heaven?'”

Red Son's expression dropped, surprise raising his brow. Xiaotian chuckled. “Yeah that was my reaction too. But he says that he'd been keeping an eye on me, and he could tell I was someone 'reliable' which... you know if he'd ever spoken to my father that would be a short lived assessment, but I digress. He tells me that right now he's just really focused on getting his master where he needs to go, and he's constantly getting kidnapped and making his job harder, but even harder still it gets when people recognize him and from his reputation tailor their kidnappings just to aggravate him in specific. How at this juncture, no matter how much it pleased him to know his name still brought fear into his enemies, it was doing him more harm than good.”

“So he gave me this and taught me to use it.” he nods to the staff “Honestly it's just a really well made fake, enchanted to still grow and shrink at will, but he needs his staff to protect his master, so it has to do.”

“B-But! What about the village? If The Monke- if Sun Wukong is on the pilgrimmage still then where did that story come from?”

“Oh that village was long abandoned: plague... but an excellent background for theatrics! And to test out my acting chops! Here check this out!”he placed Red Son down again, this time he had the strength (barely) to remain on his feet if leaned against a tree trunk.

Xiaotian cleared his throat “Okay, so Sun Wukong had shapeshifted into a bug, and he was hiding in Tang Sanzang's cassock, he was standing about- there...” he gestured toward Red Son before hopping up atop a felled tree trunk. “And I was here, but like, on top of a burning house because I can't summon the cloud, which is a shame because that would have been so much more visually striking. Anyway, I was in that form I was in earlier, oh uh- Change!” a puff of smoke and he looked the part of a dark furred macaque again. “and-” he cleared his throat again, puffed out his chest, and leaned into that persona that had made him so unrecognizable to Red Son hours ago.

Now he found himself a fool because he couldn't miss the excited gleam in Xiaotian's eye showing how eager he was to pretend for a time to be his hero that revealed the truth with an ease so clear it was almost staggering.

“You great bunch of fools! Did you really think I'd remain loyal upon the removal of that wretched circlet?! Did you really think that the Great Sage Equal to Heaven would ever fall into anyone's lines but his own?! Truly monk you are the greatest fool of them all! I shall spare your lives for no matter how delightful slaughtering you all would be I'd rather be rid of you fools far sooner than that would allow! But Know this Monk! Every drop of blood spilled by my hand could have been avoided if you were less of a trusting fool!” He cackled and slammed his false-staff into the ground, flipping into the air once. “-except I did that off the roof and vanished into the trees. I think I made quite the exit.”

“... So it was all a ruse?”

“Well, I've been the Monkey King ever since. The Heavenly court know what happened so nobody's been giving me any trouble upstairs so long as I don't go power crazy and go on a rampage or something which... yeah probably not...” he chuckled and returned back to Red Son's side.

“So you think 'the Great Sage Equal to Heaven' is a fancy enough title for your parents to approve of a courtship? Sun Wukong used to be allies with your family, might ease things a bit.”

Red Son couldn't fight off the smile. “My parents will likely know you're not the 'original' Monkey King. You're gonna have to explain it to them.”

“My love I'll sit through hours of cross examinations to get to ask for your hand in the proper way.” Xiaotian took Red Son's least damaged hand in one of his own and pressed a kiss to the knuckles there. Red Son pushed away from him and began to take a few shaky steps forward.

“I'm still plenty angry at you for letting me think you dead... But I suppose I understand the safety issue that would have arisen if a letter containing that information was intercepted.”

He was very pointedly NOT looking at the big grin Xiaotian was sending him, as if he did he would be overwhelmed again by joy at his love being with him again, and he would like to cling to his frustration a bit longer, as then he wouldn't be a useless giddy mess who desired nothing but to press kiss after kiss to that face and listen to every story from every single day he'd missed.

There was time for that later, when they were safe. They'd have all the time in the world for all the stories there were to tell and all the affections there were to share.

But they weren't safe yet.

As evidenced by the shaking step forward Red Son took that immediately gave way beneath him, and he fell into a sinkhole.

[yaz-the-spaz]

Purgatory (it's our paradise)

summary: liam has made a grave mistake, one that’s cost him everything. or so he thinks...

[or, what happens when fallen angel liam meets ifrit zayn]

a/n: This was alternatively going to be called ‘heaven in your eyes’ as the original parenthetical part of the title, but then I remembered the obvious line from pillow talk and couldn't resist

inspired by my friend @lstarry​ who originally sent me the liam pic and got the conversation rolling on fallen angel liam, which ofc forced this plotbunny into my head lol

fyi angels cry glittery tears in this

and also, to be clear, this is not exactly meant to THE purgatory, but just something like it/equivalent to it, a place on a similar plane but separate from all the other creatures/souls that would be in actual purgatory

rated: T (only for some slightly graphic descriptions of blood and gore, other than that this is mostly just G rated angsty fluff)

______________________________________________________________________

He shouldn’t be here.

That is the only thing that keeps running through Liam’s mind as he traipses on an endless journey through this foreboding forest, whipping thickets of thorny branches and brambles away from his face and arms, trying his best to shield his body from the worst of the blows with his wings. His wings which have already started to take on a mottled dark tawny color, slowly and steadily blackening the longer he spends here. It won’t be long now. Before they’re fully black. Before the ether of this place has turned his very soul into something dark and twisted. Or at least those are the stories he was always told. He doesn’t know how true they are. But he supposes he’s been spared an even more wicked fate. He could be in a place much worse than here. A place full of nothing but…the most absolute vile depravities and monstrous abominations, a place full of nothing but endless suffering and torment. Here at least toes the line, not quite pure, not quite evil, but rather hovering delicately somewhere in between.

It’s his own fault though. All of it. He just couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. He’s always done his best to be so good. To fall in line. For so long he’s played the obedient little soldier, never questioning, never disobeying. But he just couldn’t do it any longer. He couldn’t do it. And now he’s gone and gotten himself cast out. Forever. Lost the only family he’s ever known, the only home he’s ever known. Traded it for this place, condemned to an eternity of loneliness, darkness.

He doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to give Father the satisfaction—because Liam knows He’s still watching, even here. But he can’t help it. He grieves for all that he’s lost, all that he’s given up in return for a life of squalor and desolation, tears sparkling at his eyes.

It wasn’t worth it.

If he could go back and do it all again, he wouldn’t. He’d keep his mouth shut, play the good soldier for the rest of eternity no matter the personal cost to him. He’d rather suffer in miserable silence the rest of his days, surrounded by his family, than be trapped here alone in this awful place, with no hope, no chance for redemption. This cold, dark place that is slowly sucking the light right out of him, leeching on all the tendrils of good still remaining within him.

Abruptly he reaches the edge of the forest, the heavy darkness ebbing away only slightly to illuminate a large clearing before him and he gasps, stopping short at the sight in front of him.

In the middle of the clearing is a creature, crouched down over another. The fog is too thick at the moment to make much out for certain but Liam can smell death in the air. Terror-struck, he darts back behind the trunk of the nearest tree.

But it’s too late. They’ve seen him.

A wicked-sounding laugh carries itself on the current of the air, almost as if tangible, as if latching itself onto the fog until it reaches Liam, sounding as if coming from right beside him. He jumps, darting to another tree, the taunting laughter somehow seeming to follow him, his own panting breaths coming short and fast in his ears. Back and forth he weaves between the trees, the laughter still seeming to echo behind him no matter which direction he goes, until finally it fades. And then a sudden thought occurs to him. He doesn’t know how much of it is the steady darkness creeping in, taking hold of him. He’s never thought anything like it before. Never had reason to before now. But he realizes that if the thing, the creature, in the clearing has killed another, then it is possible to be killed here. Not just hurt or maimed, but killed. He has never known the threat of death before. It was not a possibility for him back home, with Father.

He’d thought himself condemned to a miserable eternity here, but…perhaps not. Perhaps…there is another way out. Perhaps Father has given him some chance at solace after all. Surely ceasing to exist would be a better fate than endless millennia of this? A peaceful respite from a lifetime of loneliness and suffering, a lifetime of being consumed by immeasurable guilt and regret.

Resolute in his sudden decision, Liam steps out from behind the tree and ambles forward. If he is to meet his end today, he will meet it head on, like the soldier he was bred to be.

As he steps forward, however, the fog starts to clear a little and he realizes that the creature is not what he thought at all. Not the ghastly beast he was imagining, but a thin waif of a thing. Like him it has been made in Father’s image. Two arms, two legs, a face with a congruence of features not all that unlike his own. Two eyes, a mouth, a nose, even ears. Though, unlike Liam, it has no wings.

“What has Father sent me?” it calls out into the foggy darkness, in the deep voice of a male entity. “Come closer, let me see my gift.”

Curious, Liam steps further into the clearing, the fog wafting and parting around him, creating a path of sorts between them, allowing them to view each other more clearly.

“An angel?” the creature inquires aloud, his smile wicked-looking as he sets his sights on Liam. “Come, little angel. Don’t be afraid.”

As Liam edges closer more details start to come into view. A dead thing, more animal-like in nature, lays before the creature, body crumpled and twisted, covered in blood. It is obvious from the state of the carnage that there was a struggle, though whether this kill was for food or for pleasure, it is unclear.

But Liam is not afraid.

Moving forward still, his eyes meet the other’s, close enough to take him in fully. He is beautiful, Liam realizes. A particular, sharp, striking sort of beauty that Father only reserves for a lucky few of His creations. Already Liam was ready to meet this creature head-on, to accept whatever fate may befall him in their encounter, but strangely he finds himself being drawn in even more by the other’s gaze. His eyes are a warm brown, again not unlike Liam’s, but there is something else, something…volatile and fervid lurking behind them, something almost intoxicating in its intensity even.

Gaze still trained on Liam, who is still edging closer, the creature lifts his hand to brandish a dagger fashioned out of sharp-cut bone. He holds it purposefully in front of him, but somehow Liam can sense there is not a threat in it. Though he’s unsure if that is a good or a bad thing. A part of him wants the threat, wants the assurance of a welcome death, without the hindrance of games and dalliances. But still he moves forward, their eyes still trained on each other, the dagger still held firmly, but somehow also playfully, in the creature’s hand.

When Liam is only a few arms’ lengths away the creature’s smile briefly turns from wicked to animated—a strange, almost frenzied glee in it—before softening again, returning back to that more mischievous air as he brings the dagger toward his mouth. Eyes still reeling Liam in, he waits for Liam to get closer, closer. And then he licks the dagger, slowly and languidly, watching Liam like a taunt. And that's when Liam realizes that it's blood he's licking, all the while still looking Liam right in his eyes. Liam can’t look away. He shouldn’t find the sight so enticing but he does. This place is already starting to turn him, he realizes. Or perhaps it is whatever hidden power lies behind this stranger’s gaze. He doesn’t know, but he suddenly finds he doesn’t care.

Drawn in by those magnetic eyes, Liam stands there. Watching. Waiting. For what, he isn’t sure, but oddly he feels he could be content to watch this creature forever. Even if the creature was doing nothing at all, Liam thinks he would still want to watch.

When he has licked all the blood away, he sets the knife down and digs his other hand into the animal, pulling away neatly-cut strips of flesh that he must have already carved up earlier, before Liam arrived. Then he sticks his bloody hand out toward Liam, long strips of flesh dangling over his palm.

“To share,” he says simply.

It is nothing like the food Liam would have eaten back home, the sweet fruits that blossomed with flavor in his mouth. But he has been wading through the forest for what he is certain must have been at least a handful of millennia, if not more, and he is so hungry. He may not have view of the humans’ world any longer to help him mark the passage of time but he remembers what a millennium felt like and his journey through the forest had certainly not been a short one, even by his own kind’s standards of time.

Longingly, he drops to his knees, mouth watering, and takes the helpings offered to him, sinking his teeth in.

It is not altogether pleasant, but it is not entirely unpleasant either, and he finds it warms his belly in a rather soothing and satisfying way that the food of home never did.

When they have eaten their fill, and there is nothing left but bones and discarded scraps of skin, they settle back against the ground, faces tilted up to the sky. Through the fog, the faint twinkle of stars is still visible and it makes him long for home, a strange ache to his body. But a sudden soft touch to the feathers at the edge of his left wing startles him out of his thoughts and he abruptly sits back up.

The other creature mirrors him, sitting up to face Liam and they simply watch each other for a while before he reaches out again. Liam’s wing flinches a little, unused to such a touch from someone who is not his family.

“What are you?” Liam asks, the creature eyes still set on Liam’s face even while he pets delicately and curiously at Liam’s wing.

“I am ifrit. Born of fire.”

Liam only distantly remembers learning of the ifrit. There are some of Liam’s kind who have been around since the time of their creation, who remember when their own kind and the ifrit roamed earth freely with the humans, before there was so much separation of all the different realms. But that was long before Father created Liam, and he has never known a time of such freedom himself.

“What is your name?”

“I am called Zayn,” the creature says, still enamored by Liam’s wings. “And you?”

“Liam.”

“Liam,” Zayn repeats. “Hello, Liam.”

“Hello, Zayn.”

The fog around them has dissipated a bit more and Liam looks around, curiously. He wonders if this is the ifrit’s home. And if so where is his family? Surely there are others of his kind here that he lives among? Unless perhaps he is from another place, but has been cast out too, like Liam. He wishes he could remember more about the stories of the ifrit but he supposes it is really of no matter. They are both here now. They must make the best of it. At least he seems friendly, and willing to share.

“So soft,” Zayn says, still petting at Liam’s feathers. He smiles again but there is no seeming wickedness or deviousness to it this time, no manic excitement. Instead it is gentle, almost a wondrous, joyful sort of expression. “Father has sent me such a lovely gift.”

Liam frowns. “I am not a gift.”

“Of course you are,” he says, as if Liam is the one being silly. As if he can’t even fathom that Liam has only been sent here for punishment.

Liam sighs. Stupid ifrit. Perhaps he’s gone mad in his time here. Liam hopes that is not the fate that awaits him too.

“Where are you from?” Liam says instead, voicing his thoughts aloud. “Is this your home or were you cast out from your family too?”

“I am born of fire,” Zayn repeats.

Liam sighs again. Of course. The very moment he thinks he’s found solace in a possible companion, and it turns out Father has only cursed him yet again with a half-mad fire creature.

“Poor angel,” Zayn says sadly, still petting at him, but further down, where the feathers are still white instead of black or faded brown. “You are born of the light, but your light is fading here.”

Liam looks back at him, surprised but still resigned. He may not be all there, but at least he isn’t as dim-witted as Liam had worried he might be.

But then he dashes even that hope, saying, “That must be why Father sent you to me.”

“He didn’t send me to you,” Liam retorts. “He sent me here as punishment, and I only happened to run into you.” He’s annoyed that he even has to explain any of this, but the slow-witted ifrit just doesn’t seem to get it.

Zayn smiles, shaking his head at Liam. “Funny little angel. You were born directly in Father’s light but you still don’t understand Him at all, do you?”

Liam’s mouth drops open. How dare this daft creature insult him in such a way!

“Come,” Zayn simply says, suddenly standing and sticking out his hand for Liam to take.

Liam staunchly refuses, shaking his head and staying seated. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Come,” Zayn repeats, more insistently, flexing his outstretched hand a bit for emphasis.

“No.”

“Would you rather take your chances alone with a full pack of those?” Zayn juts his head toward the now-bare carcass of the animal they ate. Liam blows out a breath through his nose, frustrated. He supposes Zayn has a point. He’d been lucky enough to avoid any dangerous encounters during his time in the forest. But if he lets Zayn leave without him now, he’ll be stuck here all alone in an area he’s guessing those animals are more likely to frequent, and with none of his angelic weapons—they’d been revoked upon his banishment—to defend himself with. He has no desire to die that way. He may have welcomed the idea of death before, with Zayn, but at least that would have been a warrior’s death. Not so with a pack of wild beasts.

Reluctantly, he stands, taking Zayn’s hand and they start to walk...

[Read the rest on AO3 here]

[ofhoneyblood]

BRYCE ATLAS WINSLOW

pronouns: HE , HIM , HIS

age: THIRTY - EIGHT

species: HUMAN

nationality: IRISH , ITALIAN , AMERICAN

sexuality: PANSEXUAL / DEMIROMANTIC

sign: AQUARIUS SUN , LIBRA MOON , VIRGO RISING

occupation: OWNER & BOUNCER @ RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS

+ traits: INVITING. FAIR. FUNNY. OPEN-MINDED. TOLERANT.

-- traits: GUARDED. DETACHED. DESPERATE. SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. 

faceclaim: MILO VENTIMIGLIA

soundscapes: HERE

aesthetic: HERE

yo yo you yo , it’s lydia ( yes , that’s my real name ) here with my noble beast bryce winslow ! i have had bryce as a muse longer than any other and it’s been literal years since i’ve written him so i’m extremely excited. this is the first time he will be milo though and i’m super hype to get things going ! i have headcanon after headcanon for him , so hit me up if you want to do something bc i am ready to do some shit !! again , i’m lydia ( or nary , nettle , snottie , etc. ) and i love a good name change , twenty five years old , pansexual demigirl ( she / her & / or they / them ) residing in the central timezone.

this is THIRTY-EIGHT year old BRYCE WINSLOW , the OWNER OF & BOUNCER AT RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS BURLESQUE AND BOOZE who uses HE / HIM pronouns. he grew up in DUBLIN , IRELAND but came to pleasance in JULY 2006 ON HAPPENSTANCE AND TO RUN AWAY FROM HIS PAST and now enjoys spending his time at FOR KEEPS AND RED HOT PUSSY LIQUORS. BRYCE is written by LYDIA.

PERSONALITY

element: air ruling planet: uranus — planet of originality body part: ankles good day: communicative , original , open-minded , fair , logical , inviting , tolerant , funny bad day: guarded , detached , self-destructive , out-of-touch , irrational , desperate , lonely favorite things: dancing , teaching , team sports , anything with a cause or mission , independent films , working out , baths , animals , preserving plant life / flowers , reading least favorite things: injustice , drama queens , feeling isolated , owing money or favors , having to choose just one thing , personal questions , gossip , cigarette smoke secret wish: to experience total freedom how to spot him: a cute smile lighting up a tired face , quirky movements , tired eyes , long legs , big hands , flannel , old beat up truck where you’ll find him: backpacking or hiking , protesting , coaching a team , revolutionizing the industry he works in , the gym , red hot pussy liquors , alone at home , working on a project , taking a walk by northwood lake keywords: friendliness , eccentricity , teamwork , humanitarianism , technology , groups , avant-garde

first thing to know about bryce winslow is that he’s a free-spirit that prizes individuality and plays well on a team. he has been known to do things his own way , moving on a path different from everyone else’s. some call him eccentric , others appreciate his cutting-edge originality and authentic style.

one of the many ways that the irishman is a paradox ? he’s highly individualistic , but also an amazing team player. he might look like the fresh-faced guy next door on the outside , but inside he marches to his own beat. naturally popular , as he’s vibrantly social and loves to be among people , telling jokes and introducing thought-provoking conversation topics.

people truly do make his world go round , and he can become friends with the most random strangers. can be a bit of an alien — a little “ out there ” in his approach to different things. not that he cares about offending anyone ! loves a good casual connection , bryce can disengage as quickly as he connects. in fact , platonic pals sometimes get better treatment than romantic partners. 

while he can be a bit unsentimental on a one-on-one level , he can be moved to tears by the plight of animals , the environment or other social justice issues. yes , this big irishman is a bohemian at heart in some ways , but he also gets the job done. as a tenacious aquarius , he can be quite hardworking when he devotes himself to a goal. 

a competitive ( and lesser-known ) type a streak can emerge when he really wants something. nothing turns him on like progress , especially in the name of his grander ideals ! playing hard to get REALLY works on him lol

philanthropic and objective , bryce is in a lot of ways innovative and avant-garde. from experimental electronic music to community-oriented living , there’s nothing that this man hasn’t or won’t explore. as someone who loves being a part of a good group or team , bringing people together is also one of his specialties. 

intense bryce energy is cutting-edge , “ out there ” and even a little strange at times. a total nerd for all things futuristic , science fiction and wacky inventions. no topic is too cutting-edge with this irishman: extraterrestrials , stem cells , cloning , robots taking over the earth…yup , bryce will go there. 

while he likes to influence rebellion and detaching from reality ( c’mon bryce , back to earth ! ) , he likes to help others see possibilities they wouldn’t otherwise. the essence of his true energy is: community-oriented , original , open-minded , fair , logical , humanitarian , connecting , and inviting. 

the negative expression of bryce’s energy can be: guarded , detached , destructive , out-of-touch , irrational , and desperate.  reluctant to express emotions — the irishman prefers rational reasoning and cool-headed logic to the messy tapestry of the human feelings. 

one of his favorite authors is ayn rand , founder of the objectivist movement , and that’s pretty much all you need to know. objectivism has been a major influence on the libertarian movement , which has a real bryce flavor. it’s an organized system that also preserves individual freedom and limits government intervention. it’s very “ fringe ” and mainstream all at once , a fascinating paradox and something that really intrigues him.

playful gusts and a social butterfly whirlwind combines into a gale force of humanitarianism for all. bryce is a visionary , dreaming up quirky utopias and alternative realities that can shake up the status quo.  emotional detachment , unpredictable energy and rebellion are major factors in the irishman’s personality. not going to lie , he can be “ type a “ and totally quirky all at the same time ??

a stabilizer — the one who sets up a solid goal or foundation then starts building. bryce can take the enthusiastic idea that someone else sparks and craft it into something real. he picks up the ball when another passes it , running the distance to the goal. 

the trustworthy type who likes “ to-do ” lists and fancy titles. if a friend says , “ let’s go on vacation ! ” he’s already calling the travel agency , booking the tickets and hotel , and sending everyone a list of what to pack.

true believer in friendship and teamwork , so bryce tends to be more focused on a group than an individual. freedom is important to him , which is why he likes to keep things light on an interpersonal level. that way , he won’t feel bad about running off to the opposite corner of the world at a moment’s notice. 

at times , this nomadic strategy backfires , leaving him lonely and disconnected. in truth , the irishman is uncomfortable with too much intimacy. this free spirit belongs to the world and feels off-balance giving his considerable energy to just one person. 

while bryce’s friends get first-class treatment , family and lovers see a different side of him: moody , brooding , anxious and neurotic. he may pick one ( and only one ) person to open up to , getting attached to the point of obsession. 

learning to accept and express his emotions would help him avoid the massive freak outs and anger flashes that come from pretending everything’s cool when it isn’t. bryce appreciates a quirky or eccentric twist , enjoying colorful characters and people with counter cultural personalities.

BIOGRAPHY

bryce atlas winslow was born into a very straight lace , play by the rules , catholic family.  his father , matteo winslow , was an italian military man and his mother , deirdre winslow , was a cold irish homemaker. matteo was every bit the ‘ man of the family ’  and bryce grew up only answering to his father. deirdre would only every answer a question with ‘ ask yer da ’ or  ‘ dija’ ask yer da ? ’

she was a mostly spineless , god fearing woman that was afraid of her own shadow and that’s what made her such a good puppet for matteo. bryce’s father was a stern , angry man that only grew angrier when drunk , no one dared put even a single toe out of line with him around. 

( TW: implied child abuse ) with bryce being the first born and only son he was expected to be perfect , from a very young age he felt the pressures of that. it was like walking on eggshells , always afraid of making a mistake or displeasing his father. he did not have the fun , happy-go-lucky innocence a child should expect of their early years ; instead for bryce winslow there was not much more than discipline , hard work , and punishment.

for the most part , bryce succeeded at being the perfect son his father expected him to be — a robot more than an actual living boy. nothing more than a machine , a machine being bred for war. 

it wasn’t until the beginning of his secondary school , when puberty and hormones began blossoming , that things became precarious. voice cracks , uneven patches of hair…. oh , and a sudden sexual desire for the same sex. 

( TW: suicide ment. ) now , the winslows were catholic - extremely devout catholics - and bryce grew very self-loathing and afraid in this confusing time. he contemplated suicide , all because ‘ homosexuality was wrong ‘ and ‘ you go straight to hell ‘ if you engage in anything associated with it. it didn’t matter how good of a son you were , because ‘ man shall not lie with man. ‘  he kept it hidden for years , he also managed not to act on it until well into the last year of secondary school. 

despite bryce’s fears and shame , when he was sixteen he fell in love for the first time. first loves can be explosive , dangerous even and this one was nothing short of just that. the boy kept his forbidden love a secret from everyone , his family and father above all others.

all good things must come to an end though or so they say , for the boys it came far sooner than later. matteo , bryce’s father , happened upon a note from the boy bryce was seeing , cian , and in said note was all sorts of information including a meeting spot. as you can imagine , matteo flew from the house in a drunken rage in search of his “ sinner “ of a son only to catch him red-handed. 

( TW: assault , child abuse ) bryce managed to save cian from his father’s wrath , taking the brunt of the attack. cian watched as bryce was beaten , begging and screaming for the man to stop , that he was killing him. the drunken bigot was turning on the younger boy when bryce told him to leave and never come back , so that is what he did. 

( TW: implied abuse ) to this day , he has never laid eyes on his young lover and that was probably for the best. after his father had tired himself out and satisfied his rage , he left his son there in the dirt and the beaten boy didn’t bother moving. 

( TW: suicidal thoughts , conversion therapy ment. ) will to live depleted , too tired to go on , pain too much to endure — he just slept there until the next morning. he was awoken with a kick of dirt in the face , his father telling him that he was being sent to a ‘’ special ’’ facility where they would get rid of his ‘’ ailment. ’’ 

( TW: conversion therapy / facility ) time melded in the facility , but he estimated nearly a year of his life was wasted away in there. resistant and defiant for most of his time there , it wasn’t until his father visited him , the one and only time . that things changed. 

( TW: suicide ment. , homophobia ) his father brought news that his mother had killed herself but this was a vicious lie , a last ditch effort to get bryce to change his ways and boy , did it work ! hardly a month later , the young man was discharged from the facility only to find his mother was indeed very much alive.

matteo up and moved his entire family to england after bryce got out of the facility. his father gave him nonsense about wanting to get away from the bad memories , starting over new , and ‘ lead not into temptation ‘ by sending him back to school with ‘ sinners ’ and ‘ sodomites. ‘ 

so , bryce finished out the remainder of his schooling in england and went straight into the forces as per his father’s wishes. sadly for him , he would never become what he so longed to be. he had just finished boot camp and life had just started to seem somewhat normal - if you can call anything the winslow’s had normal - when he lost it all.

( TW: eye injury ) the young man was honorably discharged after an accident that left him legally blind in one eye , when he returned home after his short stent in the defense forces there was no longer a place in the family for him. his father quite literally disowned him all for something he had no control over , a mere accident , but there was nothing more disappointing to matteo than a son that was ‘ kicked out ‘ of the forces.

( TW: gang ment. , human trafficking ) fast forward a year , bryce had found himself in a gang. this part of his background is the most unresolved seeing as it’s not part of his original backstory. long story short , he was involved with the gang until he was twenty three but it all became too much for him after his boss tried to involve him in human trafficking. 

( TW: gang ment. , suicide , death ) when you join a gang you don’t usually do it thinking someday you might one day retire or quit said gang , but then as you get older you realize you’re not as tough as you thought. bryce was twenty-three when his mother finally really did ‘ commit suicide ‘ , the first time his father spoke to him since he returned home from the forces was only to blame him for her death. 

( TW: death ment. , implied murder ) honestly , it was just the straw that broke the camels back. bryce wasn’t allowed at the funeral or anywhere near it , he’s almost certain his mother’s death wasn’t by her own hand or an accident but he’ll never truly know. after he was certain she was in the ground , bryce fled to america in the hopes of outrunning the gang and getting lost in the melting pot. 

once in the land of opportunity , he got his hands on the cheapest ride he could find first and just started driving. it was well after his twenty-fourth birthday , right smack in the middle of a hot ass summer in ‘06 ,  that he found himself in pleasance of all places. he never had any intention at all to grow roots there , it simply happened.  

other than that , the man busies himself with drying and preserving flowers , taking baths , working out , and playing with his dog.  he parades around like this big , tough hard ass when in reality he’s quite the domestic goofball type.

ETC.

has a dog ,  it’s a beagle named shiloh literally 

a big hobby of his is preserving flowers in his spare time , he keeps a small book of pressed flowers and plant life on him a lot of the time in the chance he comes across something he wants to preserve

can play guitar and doesn’t have a bad singing voice either

legally blind in one eye , but doesn’t wear his glasses often

has a younger sister that he does keep in contact with , but not very well ( WC ? )

a guilty pleasure of his is taking baths ; he enjoys adding bath salts , flowers , and other so-called ‘ feminine ‘ products like bath bombs , etc. to them and honestly takes one nearly every day

he was born and raised mostly in dublin , ireland and has a thick accent that only gets thicker when intoxicated or angry. he does use a lot of uncommon terminology to american’s ( yes , i own the feckin’ book of everything irish. . . it’s that serious ) but i’ll lyk in the tags what it means unless i forget

@phqextras​

[jewish-gay-elves]

Oh, Calamity

“I don’t believe in the Maker,” he says, breaking the silence that followed your coupling.

A soulmate/reincarnation au fic where I play around with the idea of soulmates without identifying marks or timers that have to find each other every lifetime!

Words: 4803, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of the Stephan Cousland: There's Never Much of a Choice for You

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alistair (Dragon Age), Male Cousland, Goldanna, Cailan Theirin, Anora Mac Tir Relationships: Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Male Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Cousland, Alistair/Male Cousland Additional Tags: ok just wanted to cover all my bases on the ship tags lol, also goldanna/cailan/anora's presences in the fic are v limited, like a sentence each p much, Songfic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Reincarnation, please let me know if there should be more tags!, also please ask if you have questions!

“I don’t believe in the Maker,” he says, breaking the silence that followed your coupling. You lift your head and rest your chin on his chest, mulling over his words. Morrigan is always scolding you for saying the first thing to come to mind, and this feels like it requires a more thoughtful approach.

“Okay,” you say, and it is. Truly, it is okay. His belief or lack thereof in the Maker has no impact on how much you both care about each other. Your own faith in in the Maker hasn’t been the most unshakeable, who are you to decide whether or not he’s wrong? You can feel the tension in the arm he has around your waist lessen until his grip is as gentle as it was before. He was never really one to go in the Chantry and it makes sense to you now why not. You thought he just wasn’t really one for all the anti-magic shtick that they preach.

“One of my tutors, he came from Rivain,” he begins, offering an explanation. “While we still had Aldous, my parents wanted Fergus and me to have a more rounded education. He kept his lessons mostly academic, but I enjoyed his company so much I often stayed after and he told me of Rivain and their beliefs,”

You rest your cheek against his chest again, still listening but curling closer to him. He waited a minute, just listening to you breathe before continuing.

“He said that everything in Thedas and beyond were made of energy. Humans, elves, dwarves, qunari, and all the other beings. That energy exists in a cycle. Once the energy in a being has been exhausted in say, an old man, it would go then to a newborn. This continues the cycle, with the same energy and souls from before, just reborn. He said the stress of childbirth erased the memories from the past life, making it harder to remember things from before,” he explained.

“Have you ever remembered anything from one of your past lives?” you asked, wondering if stray dreams may have influenced his belief in the Rivaini.

“No, and I doubt I will remember anything from before. This is a fairly new line of thinking in Ferelden and if it’s true I doubt that any of my past lives believed in it. I think that increases the chance of never remembering those lives, just thinking that nothing came before solidifies the experiences in this time. As sad as it sounds I’m not even sure I’d like to remember those lives,” he said, puzzling you.

“Well, why not?” you ask, lifting your head to look at him again.

“I can’t know if those lives were as lucky as this one to have been able to find you,” he says, lifting a hand to your cheek as you two look at each other. You both lean in for a kiss and you think to yourself that it’s hard to imagine never meeting him in any kind of life.

When I was younger I was certain I’d be fine without a Queen Just a king inside his castle, with an ocean in between Now all I do is sit and count the miles from you to me Oh, Calamity!

You sit on your throne, looking out at the crowd gathered in light of festivities. Teagan stands by your side, Maker bless him. Eamon and young Connor are back in Redcliffe, Isolde caught fever and Connor insisted Eamon stay with them until she recovered. The other nobles are all drinking heavily, well into their cups and you are painfully aware of the missing Arl of Amaranthine. You know he passed on the title back to the Howes and Nathaniel years ago before he even began his search for a cure but, he should be here.

You can see Fergus from your throne speaking to the nobles around him, some minor lordlings from South Reach looks like. They must be discussing politics for you can see Fergus’ top lip twitching. His brother had the same twitch that tells when either of them are about to seal a good deal. Probably speaking of possible marriage arrangements for Fergus’ boy.

You wonder if he thinks about his first son often but as the lordlings turn to retrieve more drinks you see a wave of grief pass over his face before the mask is back in place. You were able to return Highever to the Couslands but in the years since you’ve wondered if they even wanted it back. Nothing either of them said to you indicated otherwise but whenever you visit and they are both there they get certain looks on their faces. As if they were forced to eat Orleisian cheeses.

He must have noticed your eyes on him because Fergus turns to look up to where you sit. The grief is still in his eyes as he gives you a nod before returning to the festivities. You always wondered if he blamed you for having to remarry and raise heirs, knowing that his brother was otherwise occupied as Warden Commander and would never have given Highever heirs of his own willingly.

Seeing as you won’t be making heirs either and that the throne was mostly going to one of his sons you doubted that he could hate you forever. You make a mental note to later write to Fergus about the idea. Provided that you spoke to your fellow Warden about it as well. As soon as he returned of course. Because he would return, he’s the Hero of Fereldan for Maker’s sake, and also because you have had a cold spot in your bed for far too long. Teagan leans over and makes to whisper in your ear.

“Stop thinking about the Prince-Consort, you have the most unwelcoming look on your face,” he says before leaning back. You shoot him a grin upon seeing his sly smile.

“I’m that transparent am I?” you ask rhetorically, straightening your back with only two or three pops compared to the normal five or six. The chair (Eamon says you must refer to it as the throne but in all honesty, it’s just a chair) is far too uncomfortable and you wish said Prince-Consort was here to complain to but that will have to wait for another day.

We get older by the hour, watch the changes from afar. Keep forgetting to remember, where we’ve been is who we are. Now all I do is wonder why we ever set the scene Oh, Calamity

You lean against your shovel, looking up at the sky. Your eye is drawn to where they say the Breach once tore the heavens asunder. You think back to the stories the older servants tell of being children while the world was thrown into chaos by the Archdemon.

They say that among the rubble of the Temple of Sacred Ashes the Inquisitor arose as the Herald of Andraste with a hand sparkling green with ancient Elvhen magics. That they had been touched by Fen’Harel himself. Your knowledge of the Elvhen Parthenon is limited, but the savior of Thedas being touched by the Dread Wolf seemed a bit ironic to you.

It had been almost a century since the sky was closed by the might of the Inquisition and while it still had power, Ferelden no longer felt torn. Struggling to choose between the Inquisition and the throne. While the Inquisition started in Ferelden it had no power over country affairs. King Alistair and his Prince-Consort, may they rest at the Maker’s side, supported the Inquisition in that it would close the Breach was sure to remind them that true power in Ferelden laid with the crown.

To be honest you preferred the late monarchs of Ferelden, may they rest at the Maker’s side, to the Inquisition. The two surviving Grey Wardens of the Battle at Ostagar, saved by a Witch of the Wilds to unite Ferelden and prevent civil war in order to fight the darkspawn.

No one quite knows when or how the two Wardens got involved after ending the Fifth Blight, or whether or not they weren’t together before slaying the Archdemon. But they stood together against the nobles at the Landsmeet, declaring King Alistair the rightful heir and their engagement to each other. You always thought it was very romantic, the last two Grey Wardens standing together against nobles and darkspawn alike.

“What a lazy arse you are Marc!” a voice you recognize as Quint’s called from behind you. You turned to see him walking down the hill towards you, his hands dirty from where he was likely gardening in front of the main house all day, an equally dirty spade tucked between his belt and trousers. You gave him a smile as he approached, knowing that the work day was likely over and he was coming to collect you for dinner.

“I happen to know that you like my arse, whether it’s lazy or not,” you said back to him. Your mind’s eye flickered as he smirked at you, a delicate golden circlet with lavish jewels appearing on his head, the spade at his side now a decorated sword. You frowned, shaking your head to clear the vision. As he reached you he slid his arms around your waist.

“You alright, love?” he asked cautiously. You smiled for him, returning the gesture and wrapping your arms around him as well. You wondered if Quint had ever had a moment like that. As if a memory placed itself over the current view you had. Doubtful, Quint was likely more focused on his next meal.

“Fine, I’m fine. Just tired I guess,” you said blinking the strange vision out of your eyes. “Let’s go see what Cookie’s whipped up for tonight shall we?”

“Hey I heard that the Lord has a visitor from Rivain staying for a while,” He starts telling you earnestly, already coming up with all sorts of wild tales.

It’s such a shame that we play strangers No act to change what we’ve become Damn it’s such a shame that we built a wreck out of me Oh, Calamity.

“It’s not the first time I’ve had one of these visions Neil! There has to be some meaning behind them I just can’t figure out what!” you exclaim, curling your hands into fists against your temples. Neil sits on the cot a foot or so away from where you are curled in on yourself.

“Okay, okay, Wil I believe you,” he says extending his hands out in a placating manner. You peer at him, lifting your head from where you pushed it against your knees. He’s looking at you earnestly with his wide honest eyes and you find your initial fear of him ridiculing you disappearing.

“Just start from the beginning, when did they begin?” He asks you patiently. You take a deep breath and lower your arms to wrap around your calves. You collect your thoughts and decide to be honest.

“I think I’ve always had them, but I could never remember them until after I met you,” you start out. “It’s like I’m living another person’s life, but it just overlaps my own. I’ll see my papa start walking towards me but then his face isn’t his but instead its some Rivaini dressed in the Grey Warden uniform from before the Fifth Blight. My mother gets replaced by someone in servants clothing patting my cheek. And you, you have five different faces. All of them look like they lived centuries ago. There is maybe a century between each of them, with the oldest one from before the Breach.”

“Lived before the Breach? Wil that was back in what, 9:34 Dragon?” Neil says concern clear on his face.

“The Breach opened in 9:41 Dragon,” you correct him.

You’re scared to tell him that he doesn’t take on the face of just anyone from before the Fifth Blight but the face of the Warden who defeated that Blight. You’re scared to tell him that sometimes you look in the mirror and it’s not your face that greets you. That you have five different faces as well. And the oldest face that you see is one drawn in countless history books from the royal portrait archives to your classroom textbook. King Alistair, the last of the Theirins to sit on the throne before he gave it to his Prince-Consort’s nephews, he looks at you in the mirror. He’s always much younger than in the portraits but you know it’s him.

You’re scared that if you tell Neil he will remember the history lessons that covered King Alistair and his Grey Warden Prince-Consort. That they would only be known as the first two men to rule Ferelden as a couple together if they hadn’t also defeated a Blight. You’re scared because this is too new with Neil, you aren’t even sure if you like like him that way and what if he doesn’t like like you like that either? He’s been your only friend since you moved to Lothering a year ago. You refuse to lose a friend like him for something- something like this!

Neil is just as quiet as you, now that you’ve finished your tale. A moment passes before he scoots nearer to you on the bed and slings an arm around your shoulders and drawing you closer to him.

“We’re going to figure this out, ok Wil? I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but we'll figure it out,” he says and it disturbingly sounds like a promise falling from his lips and you look at him in surprise. He has a soft smile on your face, and a little twitch in his upper lip and you’re almost overcome with another déjà vu vision but you tamper it down and stay in this moment where there is just you and Neil.

You find yourself nodding with a grin spreading across your face. His good mood and attitude becoming infectious as you sit on the little cot.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs, I remember Ma said there was a visitor from Rivain who checked in yesterday,” Neil invited you, standing up and offering you a hand up. You gladly take it and you both head downstairs together.

I’ll remember nights alone, waking up to dial tone Always found my greatest moments in the sound of your hello. Now I struggle to recall the reasons you would come to leave. Oh, Calamity

You didn’t want to call Elijah, you didn’t want to call Elijah, but you wanted to call Elijah. Damn it, you thought to yourself, picking up your telephone. You impatiently pushed the rotary around waiting until it finally put you through. Thankfully, it wasn’t either of Elijah’s, frankly lovely if not a tad overbearing, parents who answered the phone.

“Hello, this is the Philips?” he said, sounding a bit confused by the late call.

“Elijah, it’s me. Benjamin,” you replied. This was a bad idea, you can already tell. You both don’t really know each other how can you be sure it’s him? Your parents always said it took a little while to know if someone was your soulmate. They told you it took time before you could be sure that the overlapping faces were truly the person you were meant to be with. That sometimes, if you rushed it, it wouldn’t be right. But you’re scared, scared it’ll never be right and if you never say anything you’ll never know what you missed.

“Oh hey, Ben. What’s up? Did you forget something at my house?” He asks, not picking up on your nerves at all. You can’t tell if he’s just dense or extremely considerate. Either option is endearing to you and makes the lump in your throat that much harder to speak around. Should you even tell him?

“Uhh no, no I’ve got everything, I just, wanted to call?” it comes out as a question and you want to hang up and then beat yourself over the head with the receiver. You can hear him pause and huff out a laugh of sorts. You want to smile because you’ve seen that laugh in person and can imagine him doing it in your head but it was at your expense and you are so nervous.

“Well, so you’ve called me. Are you feeling okay Ben?” he asks and you almost panic because he can tell, he can tell can’t he, that you don’t know why you called and you want it to be more than what it probably is but you are propelled by fear and nerves and find yourself confessing.

“Eli have you ever met someone and felt like you know them? Like you meet them and something clicks and it feels like you’ve known them all along?” you ask nervously, your voice cracks in the middle but you power through because you are not going to let your sixteen year old voicebox ruin this for you. You listen to Eli suck in a breath of surprise and pause before cautiously picking out his words.

“Ben, I uh. I have felt that way about someone before,” he says to you and you can feel your heart slowly crawl its way out of your stomach and into your throat. You want to ask who, and whether or not it is you. Whether or not he knows what you’ve been going through. However it seems as though you let your indecision carry on too long because Eli is speaking again.

“I’ve felt that way about you Ben, and I don’t know if you ever would feel that way around me but, the dreams stopped after I met you Ben. I don’t see my soulmate in the Fade anymore and I’m scared about what that means but I think I caught a flash of him on your face the other night when you smiled at me and I. I don’t know what this means but I, I would very much like to find out.” he rambles, his voice barely louder than a whisper, almost too quiet for you to hear over the blood rushing in your ears.

“Elijah, oh Elijah, I want to find out too. I want to find out so very badly,” you say twisting the cord between your fingers, nervous about what you’re about to ask him. “Do you maybe, want to go to the fair with me tomorrow then? And come over afterward?” you have the cord wrapped so tightly around your finger that you think it’s starting to cut off circulation but you’re too busy waiting for a response to answer.

“Yes,” he breathes out, like it was the only way to respond “Yes, I’d love to go to the fair with you Ben,”

It’s such a shame that we play strangers No act to change what we’ve become Damn, it’s such a shame that we built a wreck out of me. Oh, Calamity

          You always dreamed of a man when you were younger. A man who was as gentle as the breeze and as strong as the oaks in your backyard and he was the right kind of funny. A man who was sharper than knives and had a tongue to match his quick wit. He didn’t always look the same, his hair would change color and length, he’d get short and then tall and then short again. His eyes however, no matter what color they were, always looked at you with the gentlest expression.

You’re five years old and you only see him when you sleep, wrapped in the Fade together. You both play tag chasing each other round floating bookcases and sheer cliffs.

In time you realized that this was what your parents called “nature’s way of showing you your other half”. There were more technical terms for it now but you weren’t really interested in that. You were excited about this other half business. As a child you wondered if he liked playing with toy cars too, or if he was one of those boys who’d rather build towns only to wreck later, pretending to be great archdemons from old.

You’re twelve years old and your mother finally sits down and talks to you about how sometimes it doesn’t happen. That you aren’t always guaranteed a happy ending due to location and distance.

Your teachers explained that as you grew older, your soul began to recognize that it was missing something. Missing your soulmate, to try and amend this, your body produced dreams and visions of previous lives and people who your soul had found time and time again. Your body doesn’t know what your soulmate looks like this cycle so you can’t see who it is now, but you can dream, and remember. That’s why you see the boy in your dreams.

You’re nineteen years old and lonely and tired of searching and tired of disappointment. Despite this, no matter who or when someone offers a night to alleviate the pain a bit, you decline and dream of your boy who smiles at you with the same sad look in his eyes that you’ve started carrying in your own.

You wake up the morning before your birthday alone in your apartment when your brother calls to tell you that he’s found his soulmate. He invites you to dinner to meet the girl and you accept it, happy to share this moment with your brother. You get there and are reminded that in this lifetime happiness is for the man once called Cailan who died before he even knew he had a brother. Happiness is for the woman once called Anora who watched her father get executed in front of her. Happiness is not for you.

You’re fifty-four years old and playing with your nephews despite your angry knees and their arthritis. Your only niece sits with her mother because the mud just wasn’t her cup of tea and you can hear the perceptive little ten year old ask “Momma, why isn’t Uncle married like you and Daddy?”

When the alzheimer’s starts to take you, it gets hard to remember your niece’s name even though she was always your secret favorite. She still visits you but it’s hard on her and you can tell. She reminds you that she’s in college for her Master’s degree but you still don’t know what the degree is. You are forgetting a lot of things these days, but when you close your eyes the same familiar face greets you every time and you feel young again.

You’re eighty-seven years old and that is the best description of you. Old.

If I catch you on the corner will you even know it’s me? Will I look familiar to you? Do you offer me a seat? Can we find a new beginning? Do you turn the other cheek? Oh, Calamity!

Job hunting sucked. End of story, no other options, game over, it sucked and that was it. Thankfully Gwen (you wonder if she remembers yelling at you in that dingy house back in Denerim) said that you only had to do it for a few hours and three hours seemed long enough to you at least. You walked to the closest café, pulling the messenger bag higher on your shoulder as you turned the corner. The day was nice enough; maybe you could stop and sit down at one of the outside tables.      

After ordering (a tea of some sort and a cheesy croissant) you went back outside looking for a table. Sadly other patrons must have had the same idea that you did and most of the tables were already full. A particularly rowdy group of teens had already occupied one corner of the outside arrangements and you’d like to sit as far away from them as possible. You walk over to see if perhaps there are more tables around the side of the building, you’re out of luck but no one’s sitting in such a dense group as at the other tables.

You gaze around and finally you see someone sitting with a laptop and a few papers. You aren’t sure how friendly they are but they seem a better choice than the dodgy old man who glares at anyone who comes near. You walk up to the table with the man and his laptop, not the old guy, and hesitantly get the attention of the man sitting there.

“Oh uh hello, uhm may I sit here? This café is strangely busy and I’d rather not sit by all those teenagers. Not that I have a problem with teenagers but it’s a tad distracting when they scream random memes. Am I rambling? I think I’m rambling, I can find another table somewhere else,” the words fall out of your mouth in a somewhat coherent pattern and you hope he understands what you said.

“No, no you’re alright. Please, sit,” he says with a gentle smile, he even shuffles his papers closer to himself so you can set down your cup. You sling your bag over the back of the chair and sit down across from him. After sitting you smack yourself in the forehead before speaking again.

“Where are my manners today I’m sorry, my name is Van, pleased to meet you,” you say, extending your hand across the table to shake his. He has a strong grip and you’re glad you can return it in kind.

“The pleasure is mine, you can call me Ryan,” he says to you. After a moment, he watches you as you meticulously take apart your cheesy croissant. You flush under his gaze in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I’m just a little curious as to what you’re doing?” he asks looking over your mangled food.

“Oh! Well, you see, they hide the good bits under all this bread in some attempt to even out the flavor. However the truly tasty part is the lovely cheese blend they make here and I think they should just sell that on it’s own but the dear owner disagrees with me. Quite strongly in fact,” you explain to him. He chuckles at your explanation and then adds his own input.

“You know, the last time I met someone so in tune to the finer aspects of good cheese, he was a very strange man who spent time remembering his former life in a monastery where the boys had some fascination with lamp posts,” he says, and your eyes snap open to take in his features anew, yes there’s the twitch of the upper lip. You smirk back at him and take a second to remember a highlight in your relationship.

“Well, have you ever licked a lamp post in winter?” you drawl out hoping that your voice in this lifetime sounds similar to when you first said it back in the ninth age. He full out grins back and stands up to lean over the table and grab your shirt tugging you in.

“Congratulations on coming back to me again, my King,” he retorts, ignoring your question.

“I think you’re the one I should be saying that too Mr. Grey Warden who simply had to push me out of the way so that he could deal the last blow to the archdemon,” you snark back at him, remembering that fateful night. He just rolls his eyes at you and closes the distance, leaving the past memories in favor of making new ones.

It’s such a shame that we play strangers No act to change what we’ve become Damn, it’s such a shame that we play strangers No act to change what we’ve become Damn it’s such a shame that we built a wreck out of me Oh, Calamity

“Almost makes you wish we could just fight another Blight and be done with it?”

“I’d take a Blight over a hundred awkward first dates, maybe not actually. There are too many darkspawn during those. And with our first dates I’m more likely to get laid now,”

“The one thing the movies never have, a shambling horde of shrieks and genlock to ruin our day,”

“The movies do end up with me back at your place more times than not surprisingly, seeing as you were the last one to lick a lamp post in winter between the two of us,”

“Oh we’ll see who’s licking the lamp post this time around Warden,”

“You know I’m not one of those anymore, especially since it’s been what, five centuries since the order died out?”

“Yes but this is probably our twentieth first meeting and it gets confusing if I try to remember all of the names you’ve had,”

“True enough, you royal bastard,”

Oh, Calamity, come back to me.

[dustedmagazine]

Derek Taylor 2019: Keep Going

Two words coupled by Harriet Tubman and coined into a credo essential for negotiating the human condition. It's also the title of and invocation to a sublime duo album by Joe McPhee and Hamid Drake released this year as rejoinder to their first recorded ten-years earlier. Taking stock of that decade is something we at Dusted did recently and as the New Year arrives it’s an exercise that feels all the more important, particularly in the extra-musical sense of recognizing the folly of where we’ve been as a world and where we really want to go moving forward. As always, music is both balm and adhesive in remembering that no matter how divisive and discouraging everything seems, we’re still all in it together.

Joe McPhee

Seventy-nine-years young and still a human dynamo of energy, empathy, and optimism, the Powerhouse from Poughkeepsie’s been a constant of these retrospective essays for as long as I’ve been writing them. I haven’t done a hard count, but his horns grace at least a dozen releases this year. Duos with Mats Gustaffson (Brace for Impact), Fred Lonberg-Holm (No Time Left for Sadness), and Paal Nilssen-Love (Song for the Big Chief) join the dyad denoted above in delivering dialogues as personal as they are potent. Tree Dancing assembles the super-group of Lol Coxhill, Evan Parker, Chris Corsano, and McPhee collectively and in component combinations with bassist John Edwards on board for a culminating cut, while Six Situations realizes a dream of bassist Damon Smith in teaming him with McPhee’s tenor and now dearly departed drummer Alvin Fielder. The Fire Each Time bundles six concerts of McPhee in the company of the DKV Trio from a 2017 tour that took James Baldwin and John Coltrane as lodestones. Saving perhaps the best for last, Invitation to a Dream comingles McPhee’s pocket trumpet and soprano with pedal steel guitarist Susan Alcorn and old confrere Ken Vandermark in a tripart colloquy delivered in crystal clear sound.

 Peter Brötzmann

A year younger and another fixture in my yearly firmament, Herr Brötz has always had ears attuned to the early pioneers of improvised music through the unabashed embrace of Sidney Bechet, Coleman Hawkins, and others. Those unerring affections erode some of the surprise from I Surrender Dear, an album of tenor-rendered jazz standards and originals, but also enhance the overall experience in how literally he makes good on the debt. It’s arguably his best solo album since 14 Love Poems and bolstered further by the focus on a single central member of his reed arsenal. Also of note, Fifty Years After commemorating the golden anniversary of Machine Gun with longtime confreres German pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach and Dutch drummer Han Bennink,

 Rob Franken Electrification — Functional Stereo Music (678 Records)

Four-hours of Fender Rhodes heaven recorded in elite Dutch studios between 1972 and 1981 that puzzlingly never found commercial circulation until last year as a six-LP series. The 2019 edition transfers the archive to three-CDs and only rarely flags as Franken’s fonky keys front guitar, bass, drums and a revolving cast of fellow aces fielding other instruments. Economy is the informal edict as morsel-sized originals alternate with covers of tunes by Herbie Hancock, Stevie Wonder, Atilla Zoller, and even Steely Dan. The utilitarian intimations of the title aren’t just lip service. Franken originally envisioned the music as an homage to the muzak strains common to “shopping malls, hotels, elevators, department stores, and airports.” Much of it sounds far better aligned with the kinetic cop and detective pot-boilers that populated television and cinema of the decade.

 Brian Groder Trio – Luminous Arcs (Latham)

Keeping a working improvising ensemble together is no minor accomplishment, yet Groder’s been able to maintain one in his name with bassist Michael Bisio and drummer Jay Rosen. This disc joins two previous albums in demonstrating both the depth of the musicians’ bonds and their shared zeal in exploring and capitalizing on them. Any novelty surrounding the particulars of a trumpet-led piano-less trio is fortunately long since lapsed. The precedence allows them to marshal their attention to shaping music that is simultaneously the sum and multiplication of the substantial parts.

 V/A — Pakistan: Folk and Pop Instrumentals 1966-1976 (Sublime Frequencies)

Seattle-based Sublime Frequencies weathered a stretch where the “weirdness” quotient of their audio excavations appeared to outweigh accompanying scholarship and attention to edifying annotations. This scintillating compilation suffers no such skew in the balance of carefully sourced sounds and accompanying copy to shore up the context. Sixties rock, specifically surf, is a through-line in the preponderance of reverb-riddled guitars and buzzing Farfisa organ on many of the tracks, but indigenous melodies and rhythms are also frequent fodder for enthusiastic appropriation. Best of all, there’s a pervasive sense of fun to the sequencing that makes it a handy soundtrack for soirees of all sorts.

 Jaimie Branch — Fly or Die II (International Anthem)

If her ascendant flight pattern is any indication, death, artistic or otherwise, isn’t even an option for Jaimie Branch. This follow-up to her meteoric (and long overdue) 2017 debut builds organically on previous cosmetic aspects (core quartet, cover art, etc.) while making progressive-pronged politics even more prominent. “Prayer for Amerikkka” doesn’t mince words in proffering a platform of resistance and the musical propellant to keep it confidently airborne. A robust touring schedule and well-earned media attention are only furthering Branch’s designs at getting the sounds into as many ears as possible.

 Sam Rivers

The Sam Rivers Archive Series is the brainchild of producers Danas Mikailionis and Ed Hazell. A projected eight-volume celebration of the music of the eponymous composer/improviser/educator/doyen curated from a vast trove left in the care of Rivers’ daughter after his passing in 2011, it’s also probably the jazz news that most set my heart aflutter with anticipation this year. The initial pair of entries, Emanation and Zenith, certainly live up to the promise in presenting clean fidelity concerts by a high profile trio with bassist Cecil McBee and drummer Norman Conners (pre-disco) and a workshop quintet involving tubaist Joe Daley, bassist Dave Holland and the eight-limbed drums juggernaut of Barry Altschul and Charlie Persip. Both discs are essential.

 Jimi Hendrix — Songs for Groovy Children (Experience Hendrix)

Not a long-lost Hendrix kids’ album despite what the jejune title might suggest. Instead, it’s four nearly complete concerts from the guitar deity’s iconic New Year’s Band of Gypsies engagement at the Fillmore East in 1969/70. Producer Eddie Kramer largely quashes his invasive impulses in mastering the tapes, leaving the only real minuses to manifest in the occasionally extra-loose interplay and Jimi’s decision to indulge Buddy Miles’ mic access to a regrettably arguable fault. Math done, there’s nothing stopping an instant trigger-pull for true believers, even folks who have it all already in bootleg form.

 Ezz-thetics

Fingers remain collectively-crossed that Werner X. Uehlingher will one day decide to write an autobiography of his countless adventures as a stalwart producer of improvised music. Ezz-thetics is just the latest chapter in the future tome’s story arc that started with the founding of the Hat Hut label back in 1974. The new imprint, named after a classic George Russell composition, balances reissue and archival releases with new ones, packing them with branding that memorializes the old while consecrating the new. Discs by Jimmy Giuffre (Graz Live 1961), John Coltrane (Impressions Graz 1962), and Albert Ayler (Quartets 1964 Spirits to Ghosts Revisted) are the marquee name highlights, but the entirety of the imprint’s releases to-date have had their merits.

 Stephen Riley

The tenorist is no longer my favorite under-forty plier on the instrument simply because he’s aged out of the bracket. Oleo builds on last year’s transparently veiled Sonny Rollins’ tribute Hold ‘Em Joe by adding the sturdy trumpet of Joe Magnarelli to the equation and turning the referential calendar forward to the saxophone colossus’ collaborations with Don Cherry. It’s a beaut from a brisk beginning sortie on “Ornithology” to lengthy slalom on the Ducal “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore.” Tangerine Rhapsody is technically under Dutch drummer Snorre Kirk’s leadership, but it wouldn’t be nearly the album it is absent Riley’s supple and sagacious involvement.

 Milt Buckner & Jo Jones — Buck & Jo (Fremeaux & Associates)

Curious about what makes an individual improviser tick? Duo contexts are arguably the best aperture to gain edification and insight. Even better than solo or ensemble configurations, the dyad distills things down to solo and dialogue. This four-disc, four-hour-plus collection is a remarkable case in point and surprise that it even exists at all given its vintage let alone its scope. Thank French impresarios the Panassie Brothers who invited ur swing organist and ur swing drummer to indulge themselves with only the gentlest of producer-dictated strictures. The results are fascinating, whimsical, bombastic, and above all, endlessly entertaining. An epitome of intimately undertaken jazz tête-à-tête before it was anything resembling a regular thing.

 Del Shannon — Two Silhouettes (Bear Family)

Preconceptions can prove obdurate edifices. Prior to my forty-eighth birthday this year I dismissed Del Shannon as one of the disposable princes of bubble gum pop on the rare occasions he entered my consciousness at all. “Runaway” remains an influential song, particularly in its use of musitron organ, but it’s hardly the makings of unassailable genius. Bear Family’s exhaustive single-disc survey levies a much more convincing appeal for the crooner’s embodiment of a nexus of odd congruencies as moonlighting jazzmen conspire with duck-tailed rockers and barbershop harmonists. Dennis Coffey and Hargus “Pig” Robbins show up as sidemen and there’s even an S&M-tinged canticle called “Torture” replete with whip cracks and a Greek chorus of moans, leaving one to wonder what Ward and June Cleaver made of it all?

 Sun Ra

Cosmic Myth and Modern Harmonic continue to advance the mantle apparently abandoned by the Art Yard label in keeping Ra-related albums in circulation. The erstwhile Mr. Mystery employed numerous vocalists throughout his career, even contributing his own less-than-stellar (pun intended) pipes to the cause on occasion. None among that eclectic number could match June Tyson, who brought joie de vivre to the lyrical manifestations of Ra’s cosmic-afro-centrism that was at once wholly believable and infectious. Saturnian Queen of the Sun Ra Arkestra does right by her memory by culling an hour’s worth of highlights from a vast and varied recorded archive. Monorails & Satellites (now in three volumes!) and newly minted editions of Pathways to Unknown Worlds and When Angels Speak of Love were also welcome arrivals.

 Derek Bailey/Han Bennink/Evan Parker — Topographie Parisienne: Dunois, April 3rd, 1981 (Fou)

The Topography of the Lungs trio in concert and at length with decent sound eleven-years after their initial seismic contributions to free improv. Bailey and Parker weren’t yet at irreconcilable loggerheads but there’s still a galvanizing and palpable tension that suffuses their interplay. Bennink can’t help being anything but Bennink, bashing away one moment and pattering at barely a whisper the next while keeping ears cocked with split-second focus to the contributions his compatriots. Duos combine with solos from Parker sweeten and season an already delicious aural pot.

 Fred Anderson Quartet — Live at the Velvet Lounge Volume V (FPE)

Leftfield guest Toshinori Kondo and drummer Hamid Drake were one half of Peter Brötzmann’s Die Like a Dog outfit when this 1994 concert was committed to tape. That take-no-prisoners context allowed his plangent, frenetic, effects-saturated brass free and ferocious rein. Anderson’s outlets didn’t usually involve electronics and its instructive hearing the adaptations to the roiling controlled-chaos within his customary cerulean-hued improvisations. Drake and bassist Tastu Aoki maintain a stout terrestrial tether enlivened by a revolving array of undulating grooves. Extra points earned for incorporating the original Velvet Lounge wallpaper scheme into the production design. Bottom line: I miss Fred.

 V/A — Hillbillies in Hell: Tribulations: Country Music’s Tormented Testament (1952-1974) (The Omni Recording Corporation)

Amusing alliterative appellation aside, this series has managed the no-meager-feat of avoiding diminishing returns while mining the same expanse of time over successive volumes. The fifth entry tilts the lens even more sharply toward the sort of fervent tent show revival circuit favored by fictional religious reprobates like Rev. Harry Powell and Elmer Gantry and comes up with a bonanza off-kilter cuts from names both famous (Hank Williams, Louvin Bros., Tex Ritter) and arcane (The Burton Family, Durwood Daily, The Sunshine Boys Quartet). Ernest Tubb’s “Saturday Satan, Sunday Saint” persuasively sums up the ecumenical ethos, but every song exudes its share of sinful charms.

  V/A — Sacred Sounds: Dave Hamilton’s Raw Detroit Gospel (Ace)

As a both prolific and preternaturally talented producer, Dave Hamilton’s usual purview was left-of-center soul and funk. Urban (but not urbane) gospel offered a less-publicized commercial side outlet and he brought comparable emphasis on authenticity and creativity to the various acts he championed. This compilation comprises all-killer-no-filler assemblage that lives up to the unvarnished signifier in the title. It’s nearly eighty-minutes of jangly guitars, tambourines, and impassioned sanctifying and proselytizing of all sorts, as suited for Sunday morning as Friday or Saturday night depending on the preferred mood of your personal household. I’ve enjoyed equal fun plying it in both.

 Art Pepper — Promise Kept

Laurie Pepper, like Sue Mingus and other jazz widows before her, remains a passionate arbiter and steward of her late husband’s recorded legacy. The title of this box set collecting a singular tributary of Art Pepper’s later career aspirations could just as easily serve as a signifier of that bond. In truth, it’s reflective of a pact the couple made with producer John Snyder and a string of studio sessions largely left unissued during the Pepper’s lifetime. Rivalries real and imagined are revealed across the recordings as the altoist wrestles with his insecurities and the realities of choices made and paid for as a consequence of his addictions and fictions. Straightforward and vital, the music avoids gestalt in remaining consistently strong and emotionally true.

 Paul Bley/Gary Peacock/Paul Motian — When Will the Blues Leave (ECM)

The prevailing mystery behind this twenty-year-old concert rests on the reason(s) why the fine folks at ECM left it in the can for so long. I don’t have an answer but rather a simple expression of gratitude that they finally decided to rectify the error and get the sounds out into the world. Bley, Peacock and Motian were already three-decades deep in the periodic associations that quietly helped open chamber jazz to free improvisation when they took to the Swiss stage. The ensuing masterful performance manages to feel simultaneously like three old friends shooting the shit and a trio of improvisatory experts operating at peak collective capacity.

 Prince — 1999 (Warner)

Residency in the Twin Cities for the better part of two decades has resulted in many boons, personal and vocational for this writer. As with any life lived, the red side of the ledger has entries, too. Folded among them is the frictional, frayed listening relationship I harbor with the region’s most famous musical export. Nearly three years after his premature passing Prince is still everywhere and everything here. That perpetual, and perpetually irksome, ubiquity is what makes this five-disc+DVD beyond-exhaustive box so refreshing to my patience-tested purview. It contains lots of impressive material from arguably his most creative and questing period. It also has plenty of songs that feel competent but quotidian by comparison. That blend of bliss and banality is as effective a corrective as I can think of to the cult of purple sainthood that persists around these parts.  

 And as is my habitual wont, 25 more in no hierarchical order… thank you for reading and Feliz Año Nuevo!  

Josh Abrams Natural Information Society (Eremite)

Michael Formanek’s Very Practical Trio – Even Better (Intakt)

Charles Gayle/John Edwards/Mark Sanders – Seasons Changing (Otokroku)

Dudu Pukwana/Han Bennink/Misha Mengelberg – Yi Yole (ICP/Corbett vs. Dempsey)

Nat King Cole – Hittin’ the Ramp: The Early Years (1936-1945) (Resonance)

Willem Breuker & Han Bennink – New Acoustic Swing Duo (ICP/Corbett vs. Dempsey)

Whit Dickey & Kirk Knuffke – Drone Dream (No Business)

Mark Turner & Gary Foster – Mark Turner Meets Gary Foster (Capri)

J.C. Heard & Bill Perkins Quintet – Live at the Lighthouse 1964 (Fresh Sound)

Stan Getz – Getz at the Gate: November 26, 1961 (Verve)

Rita Moss - Queen Moss 1951-1959 (Fresh Sound)

Bill Frisell & Thomas Morgan – Epistrophy (ECM)

Marion Brown & Dave Burrell – Live at the Black Musicians’ Conference, 1981 (No Business)

Jon Irabagon – Invisible Horizon (Irrabagast)

Tom Rainey Trio – Combobulated (Intakt)

Joe Lovano & Enrico Rava Quintet – Roma (ECM)

Tomeka Reid Quartet – Old New (Cuneiform)

Johnny Griffin & Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis – Ow: Live at the Penthouse (Reel to Reel)

Takahashi Miyasaka – Animals Garden (Kojima/BBE)

Tiger Trio (Joelle Leandre/Myra Melford/Nicole Mitchell) – Map of Liberation (Rogue Art)

V/A – Jambu: E Os Miticos Sons da Amazonia (Analog Africa)

V/A – Put the Whole Armour On: Female Black Gospel 1940s/1950s (Gospel Friend)

V/A –Alefa Madagascar: Salegy, Soukous, & Soul from the Red Island (Strut)

Horace Tapscott with the Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra and the Great Voice of UGMAA - Why Don’t You Listen? Live at LACMA 1998 (Dark Tree)

Duster – Capsule Losing Contact (Numero)

[musubiki]

Mochi & Lime Lore/Overworld dump post

➞

- Mochi and lime live in an earth alternate, so like, humans, but not EARTH earth. still working on the name of the continent/region/world they're in, but its gonna be like a botw expansive map with a bunch of different climates and stuff all spread out

- it's probably also a modern-style monarchy. so their gonna have modern technology and stuff but its an excuse to maybe include a royal family (think hmc style ish??). but i don't think the story will delve into politics at all. let's just assume that the gov and economy is ok in this story LOL

- magic and fantasy creatures exist EVERYWHERE, but they hide from most humans and as a result mostly live in forests and such

- the power of magic came as a gift from the stars. the stars are like. i guess what people worship i guess?? so the stars are like the ‘gods’ here (i didnt wanna get into religion too much in this story either, but some plot-relevance will most likely involve some religion-like aspects like priests and whatever)

- technology was developed only because the power of magic essentially disapeared to humans. if witches were always integrated into society, tech probably wouldn’t be a thing

- witches are female only. at the origins of magic, it used to run in both sexes, but the only male with magic ability became insanely powerful and evil and the magic in males died with him. (big backstory, we dont have time to unpack that)

- there's an extensive history (same backstory) of witches not being accepted/feared in society despite being mostly human, so they live WITH humans, but don't expose themselves. 

- (the most valuable spell is the memory replacement spell, which works kind of like that app where you can erase whole people from photos. ie, it takes parts of the rest of your day or similar days to fill in the deleted memory with similar memories, so instead of seeing mochi battling it out with some masked dude, you think you just went to school and came home)

- witches in society caused a bunch of social problems. they had events similar to the salem witch trials and whole plagues started when a witch was discovered. (that crow-lookin plague mask WILL show up in this story i dont care. that shit looked cool and evil and i want it to show up)

- there are some witch ‘haven’ villages: small secluded villages that hide a witch or two within its walls, and don't get many visitors. these villages usually don't have much technology, as they rely on magic. (one of these places is the ocean village where Mochis grandmother lives, and another is where Mochis secret hideout is in the northern mountains)

- there are a bunch of urban legends of witches, bedtime stories, holiday tales, etc. but no one really believes they exist anymore. they just seem like cryptids or superstitions.

- the magical community power scale pretty much looks like this:

...with the cat at the top, followed by the crow/snake, then the spider/toad, and the rest of the witches are more of less equal in power, and then below that are the mages. the psuedo-magic is placed in its own box because it comes nowhere near true magic

- because of this power balance, all the ‘normal’ witches and mages are extremely jealous of the top five (sometimes theres even jealousy within the five)

- ‘mages’ are a broad term of magic users, which can range from humans, to fairies and mermaids. i think the familiars may fall into this catigory too, as they can use a small degree of protective magic.

- mages can be a lot of things, fire mages, water mages, ink mages, paper mages, etc. theres a LOT of them, mostly descending from ancestors who were given power by witches a long time ago, or maybe the offspring of a human and a spirit. long story short its a REALLY broad term.

- every witch, at some point during their magical maturity has to chose a successor. its usually their daughter, but not in every case. once their successor turns 15, together they conduct a ritual to begin the power transfer. (i havent decided if the ritual is when they get their familiar, or if theyre supposed to have them since birth?? probably the former)

- during the power transfer, the magical ability is slowly ‘drained’ from the old witch into the new witch over a period of time, usually about a year or so, and the old witch teaches and trains the new witch how to use magic and potions.

- however this is also the most dangerous time, because as the power slowly transfers, the old and new witches respective power levels are slowly decreasing and increasing respectively, and at the equilibrium (50/50 transfered) the strongest witches power roughly equates to the power of a normal witch 

- (which is especially a dangerous time, compared to say, at a 70/30 balance the old witch is still strong enough to defend the title)

- and due to the jealousy problem within the magic-user circle, this is the ideal time to steal the power of a witch. in Mochi’s case, the cat is highly sought after by other witches and mages, and because of this, cat witches are trained early on to be VERY good fighters, and usually have a few. like. ‘bodygaurds’ so to speak (ie. Lime)

- in rare cases, the power of psuedo-magic is enough to kill a witch at equilibrium as well

- if you kill a witch, all her magical affect on the world (potions, spells, cursed objects) disapears, and the power will either pass to the victor (if she dies by the hand of another witch/mage) or will return to the old witch (if she dies by accident)

- if a witch dies by accident, and she has no remaining female family, the familiar will wander the world in search of a new and worthy witch

- because of the female-only thing as well as the jealousy issue, witches try to only have one daughter, as to not deal with sibling jealousy. especially if they have a son first, and then a daughter, the boy usually sometimes ends up with resentment that they can’t have the same power

- a lot of witch-siblings end up joining the coattails

- for humor and story purposes, im making it so for some idiot reason no one else can figure out where Mochi lives and/or are too dumb to do the obvious plan of attacking her in her sleep or something. so they usually get attacked on the go.

- also maybe everyone understands that high school sucks enough as it is, so they also rarely attack during school hours

- every familiar is a different being, and they stay with their witch throughout their whole lives. they always retain the ability to talk, even after the witch no longer has the main power. after a witch dies, their familiar loses their voice, and either dies with them, or leaves to wander the earth forever

- after a witch loses her power to her successor, she can only do low-level magic and make potions (small levetation spells, foliage growth spells, etc. nothing big)

- there are also a lot of powerful spirits (they roughly fall into the mage catigory) that wander the earth and protect certain sacred places. a subcatogiry of spirits are the cosmic serpants, chinese dragon-looking things that rest in shrines and travel the skies during the night, bringing the elements with them (theres a cosmic wind serpant that protects the forest next to Oscars house, and its always pretty windy there)

- locals pray to the spirits for good weather, healthy crops, etc which the serpants are happy to give them with offerings

- theyre kind spirits, but also very firm and protective of their lands. if they sense any ill-willed trasspassers they WILL destroy them. they only reveal themselves when they want to, but most have mad respect for the witches. 

- mochi gives oscar a medalion with a witches seal so the spirits know not to fucking merk him on his ghost-hunting adventures

- another type of spirit are the forest gaurdians (like the little things in this picture) which care for the forests and animals there. they like oscar because he brings them little snackies like funyuns. 

- spirits are naturally attracted to magical energy, so when mochis around the spirit activity hikes up (que ominous wind gusts during spooky story telling at oscars house) 

- the 5 top witches are pretty well known throughout the magic/creature communities. even if Mochi hasn’t met them yet formally, her name travels fairly quickly that by the time she visits somewhere and introduces herself, they know shes the cat witch

- also, in the top 5, each witch kind of has their own little attributes that makes them, by nature, most suitable for their position. for Mochi, as the cat, she has the biggest heart (cares the most for people, has the most friends). the crow is has the most intellect, the spider is the most creative/detail oriented, etc.

- different regional areas grow rare ingredients, which most of them i will 100% make up since i dont know a lot about actual earth plants, so mochi and lime will travel to all different parts of the world for foraging. everyone kind of teases them about how ‘oooh youre just gonna live in this little city your whole life?? boring!! get out there!!’ and they just kinda look at each other 

[loxxxlay]

Hiiii, came for the thorki, noticed the kurofai owo. Haven't seen that name in a long time. Can I ask for some recs of that(or anything tsubasa)? c:

HEYYY sorry this took like an entire week longer than i was planning on. i have no excuse lol but anyway without further ado HERE ARE A COUPLE OF MY FAVORItE KUROFAI FICS OF ALL tIME!!! because i fucking love this ship

(before starting, i want to note that my letter “t” key is still broken, and i have to copy paste it every time…. so i will not be capitalizing any letter “t” in this, even if it’s a fic title. i’m sorry to the authors :( it’s either lowercase t’s or no recs, and i really wanna reccc okay t_t)

the Wizard of Ceres by Mikkeneko

(cw for vivisection, also on a human, and suicidal ideation)

if you haven’t read this, i am so fucking excited for you because it is probably one of my favorite pieces of fiction ever, let alone fanfiction, let alone in the tsubasa fandom. the world building (fantasy! kinda in-universe Nihon-ish) is phenomenal and works really well with these characters. sometimes i forget that this wasn’t an alternate CANON universe. there’s lots of angst. i cry like a fucking banshee when i read this, and it hurts in that Really Good Cathartic Way where u can enjoy the suffering :) 999/10 recommend

the sequel was good too - it focused more on Syaoran and Sakura, which is less my cup of tea, but still overall had a shit ton of good Kurogane and Fai moments and… idk guys, the plot structure of these two stories was just really good and worth, like wow. professional level. (y’all know this if you read this author’s thorloki fics too XD)

(Also to NON-tSUBASA-FANDOMERS, this is a fic that stands alone. you don’t need to have read the source material. it’s a good story okay. i recommend it like i would recommend a book *_*)

All that I Am by Roxie Archer

(cw trafficking/prostitution & suicidal ideation) 

this fic is a classic. it can only be found on fanfiction.net as far as i know. i go back and read it every 3 years, it’s fucking brutally heartbreaking and cathartic. basically kurogane and fai go on a road trip–fai, a prostitute, wanting to travel far away, and kurogane, fulfilling his deceased mother’s last request. they do NOt get along at all at first. literally an “enemies” to friends kinda fic. the ending… again… focuses on more syaoran and sakura stuff. BUt there’s a fai moment that is so fucking worth it. so much so that i still recommend following through if ur not into the lil characters as much

there’s a lot of suicidal theme and mention of noncon in this fic, and the author actually did a hella lot of research on sex trafficking (especially for the time period this was written). i thought it was super respectful, while also being super respectful. probably my gateway fic into other fics dealing with trafficking, and i don’t think i ever found another one like it in this fandom

(interesting tidbit: i have a friend in RL who also had a kurofai obsession, and before we met each other, we had both read this fic and fucking loved the shit out of it soooo if u don’t take my word for it, take hers lol)

the Stars We Live By by @invisible-as-i-run

(cw for suicidal ideation)

this was a fic that i found fairly recently. it’s a scifi au, in which syaoran and sakura are cute little droids and fai is their owner who programs them into their own sentience with their own personalities - even though it’s against the law. Kurogane, meanwhile, is someone whose parents were murdered in a very old droid uprising. hence…. lots of angsty angsy drama omg.

I fucking loved this fic. there were moments where I could just feel Fai’s self-loathing as if it were my own. And even though Fai hides the truth about the droids from kurogane for a long time, there was never a moment where I actually thought it would work out if Fai told Kurogane the truth. the conflict between them was believable and so so so fucking intense. I spent many a chapters crying and panicking and just overall loving it like the demented angst-love i am. Fully recommend this. It has been added to my All-time-Favorites collection gahhhh.

(Also I recommend pretty much every kurofai fic by this author! they are all damn good *_*)

Otherwise, I cant think of many more because these fandom days are far behind me... D: I will recommend my bookmarks though, which include a few of the entries for the 2017 (? or 2018) KuroFai Summer Olympics, so that might be of interest to you!

Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for this ask!! I love being able to recommend these glorious fics a;lkdshglskhg

[thestarseedvisionary]

Get To Know Me: Mystical Version 👽 🔮

I decided to type up a little questionnaire so you guys can get to know me better and then we can tag and pass this around for others to do so we can get to know each other and connect more! ♡ This questionnaire is for Starseeds, Lightworkers, Witches and any other mystical folk 🌙🌟

1. How did you discover that you are a Starseed/Lightworker/Mystical soul?

For basically all of my life, I was interested in the stars, far reaches of space, aliens & UFOs, obsessed really. I always had a spiritual aspect to myself as well, but it wasn't something I understood very much. I got on Tumblr and found a large community of alien/UFO enthusiasts and felt comfortable enough to make my first alien/UFO blog. One day I came across the concept of starseeds and everything clicked for me. I finallllyyyy understood myself so much more! I then had a very intense spiritual awakening involving a astral projection experience in which I left my body and this dimension entirely. I've been on this ride ever since!

2. What star/elemental species do you feel connected to?

Sirians, most of all, but I also have ties in Orion, Arcturus and Lyra (Vega, specifically)

3. Do you feel like you know what your soul mission is or have inklings of what you're supposed to be doing in this life?

Not 100%, honestly. I know that I'm here to help awaken humanity and raise the collective consciousness, but in other areas, I'm so lost! But I know I have big things to do here.

4. Have you ever astral projected or had a lucid dream?

Yes, and I've had some pretty crazy experiences! All of that started after my initial spiritual awakening and it's been one of the most validating experiences of the entire thing.

5. Where do you believe we go when we die?

Back to Source, back to our home in the stars. A place so vast and peaceful that our human brains really can't fully comprehend it.

6. Do you believe you have had contact with an extraterrestrial or any other supernatural entity?

Yes. This includes Greys in my childhood and my spirit guide, Nael, now. I've also seen extraterrestrials in dreams and astral projections.

7. Do you believe in and follow astrology?

Yes, absolutely. Astrology has been one of the biggest influencing factors when it comes to my celestial spirituality. It helped me to understand myself more fully and brought all the pieces of my puzzle together.

8. Do you regularly meditate?

No, actually. I find it incredibly hard to meditate most of the time. My wandering mind is way too much for me to silence, but I do find other creative ways to meditate and find my center, like showering, painting, listening to music, etc.

9. Would you consider yourself to be an empath?

Yes, and no. I think I have more control than other empaths when it comes to switching that part of myself off. Sometimes, it's incredibly overwhelming and other times, I don't feel much at all. I don't know that I would consider myself completely empathic.

10. What are your zodiac signs?

Pisces Sun, Aquarius Moon, Libra Rising.

11. Do you believe in our ability to change and create our own reality?

Yes...and no. I do believe we have an incredible ability to manifest, but I also believe that some things in our reality are just pre-destined. I really do believe in fate.

12. Do you dabble in any divination practices?

Yes! I'm an oracle/tarot reader and I feel like that is a part of my mission on earth, to help people through divination. My Sun in Pisces really shows this, I think! On top of reading for others, I read for myself all. the. time. and it's the way I can most accurately communicate with my spirit guide, Nael.

13. What about magical practices?

I do consider myself a cosmic witch now; I used to not. But I found that I was always doing things like rituals for the moon and it's phases and other things of that sort, so I could no longer really deny that I am a cosmic witch. As a child I had been interested in witchcraft and that fell away for a while, but now it's back for me! I don't go all the way out though, mostly following the moon and the stars and harnessing that energy where I can.

14. What do you think about concepts like extra dimensions, parallel worlds, etc?

I definitely believe in extra dimensions and I'm really intrigued by quantum physics, astronomy, cosmology etc. The Universe is ridiculously expansive and infinite so I think there is a whole lot going on that we don't yet fully understand.

15. Do you believe in ghosts, spirits and demons?

Ghosts/spirits, yes. I've had a lot of different experiences with that realm of the strange and my honest thoughts about it is that a lot of it has to do with residual energy, but some instances are definitely conscious contact. I choose not to believe in demons because the belief fuels and feeds what I believe is a conscious parasite created by overwhelming negative human energy. I don't have experience with demons, nor do I want to.

16. Have you ever had sleep paralysis?

Yes! Many times, actually. I've had a range of scary to good experiences when it comes to sleep paralysis. It's not always a negative thing!

17. Have you ever had any contact with your spirit guides or guardian angels?

Yes, I know one of my spirit guides pretty well. He told me his name is Nael (not quite sure how to pronounce this even still) and he is a 6th Dimensional being from the Sirius star system. In my experience, Nael is actually an alternate dimension version of myself that aids me in my earthly life. I think of him as a separate entity but at the same time understand that he is essentially my higher self, or a version of it. Hope that makes sense!

18. Do you believe in conspiracy theories?

Yes, quite a few of them. Some of them are much too out there for me, like the flat earth theory. But I definitely believe the government knows about and hides the truth of the existence of extraterrestrials interacting with our planet. I also believe that the government has done and continues to do some pretty fucked up things. I could go on about this for days lol.

19. What triggered your spiritual awakening, or was it something always within you?

So, for me, it was a little complicated. I always had this knowing that there was more to life than what immediately met the eye. I always knew I had and was a soul and that there was something after death. But, I went through phases of atheism and trying to ignore that part of myself. I had always been obsessed with space and aliens and came to figure out in later years that I've probably been abducted by aliens. It never once occurred to me that there could be anything spiritual behind that. I was also always very interested in the afterlife. All of this culminated in one day, about 5ish years ago, when I sat down and randomly watched the documentary DMT: The Spirit Molecule. As cheesy as it sounds, this is what triggered my awakening. The blending of science, something tangible like this substance found within the human brain and nature, and the spiritual realm really opened my eyes. I had always been very scientifically minded and never could make those connections between science and spirituality. As I listened to the experiences of the people within the DMT study, tears filled my eyes. They spoke of strange and wonderful alien dimensions and communication with entities. And it was possible to say why, because of the most potent psychedelic drug known to man, and it's found in our BRAIN. While it is not 100% scientifically confirmed that DMT lies in the brain, it has been found in the brains of rodents, and I have my own theories and proof as to why I do believe it is within the human brain as well.

At the point that I watched the documentary, I had already been tiptoeing into this spiritual life. I had already come across the concept of starseeds here on Tumblr and started to wonder. Everything made complete sense to my life but I still resisted claiming the title of starseed. Hearing the truth about DMT, extra dimensions, the entities people experienced and what can only be explained as a much different afterlife than I had previously imagined, nothing else could be false in my mind. If the Universe is that expansive and multidimensional and I'm a part of it and can access those dimensions as well, I could no longer deny my reality of being a starseed.

Not too long after, I had my first real endogenous DMT experience, triggered by conscious intent. This experience occurred within deep REM sleep paralysis that I achieved by sleep deprivation. I had done a bit of research on this and heard this was a way to cause astral projection. I stayed up for a little over 24 hours and as I was falling asleep, repeated a mantra in my mind that I would have an experience during my sleep. I went to another dimension, that much I am sure of, and that is basically where this all began for me.

20. What is the biggest spiritual epiphany you have had during the time you've been awake?

For me, the biggest realization was understanding why I am the way I am. Coming to terms with the person I was meant to be and embracing that despite thinking it's weird or too out there. Not only that, but fully understanding my life and the bigger picture of it. Why things happened that way, why that person did that, and how I ended up to where I am now. And not to mention, the complete validation of all the deeply held beliefs I always had involving the strange nature of reality, and finding out it is far more fantastical than I could have imagined before. Knowing deep within my soul that my spirit will not die on this earth and will go home back to where it came from, the place I often times feel homesick for. That my loved ones and I will never be separated even after leaving our physical bodies. Realizing that I'm one with the Universe as we all are. And that we have so much good to do here. ♡

Okay, guys, your turn! I tag ANYONE who wants to do this! Tag me in the post you make and then tag all your mystical friends! Go here for the unfilled questionnaire!

[blossom-hwa]

halo! i know its been over 3 weeks (??) and i know i said "i might start reading soon" (i did, just took a while to finish your stories Y^Y) but schools been a bitch 😤 i thought theyd finally let us rest considering midterms just ended but ig not ~.~ (the projects got worse...) anywhooo, still kept up with the boyz but ended stanning nct first before ateez 💀 IM SORRY i came across their songs in spotify while studying and just stanned ✨ that said, i started reading your nct fics first huhu. i noticed that compared to the your other masterlists, the nct ones were released 2-3 years earlier than those of skz and tbz. and damn, i felt like i just watched a part of your life. ya know, seeing how your writing improved all over the years :")) but still, plot-wise (your imagination and world-building), you were amazing as how you are now.

regarding tbz, I SWERVED TO KEVIN. idk how or when or why it happened. it just happened. i also had a changmin plus hak phase like days after i sent my previous ask and the longer i watched their shows but then out of nowhere, kevin caught my attention. the "my bias depends on whos on screen" is still fitting though. but kevin 🤌🤌🤌 i think its because of his and jacobs lullaby cover (by lukas graham) or the vocals that he showcased in their flower snack show or JUST his soft voice in eric nams kpop daebak show 🕳️🚶 dude, i honestly dont know...

i asked (i didnt force her, i swear) my 4 year old cousin to watch their music videos and i think i have successfully baited another victim into stanning tbz. i first showed her their halloween dance video of maverick and changmin got her LMAO she really likes chucky so automatic chants chucky whenever changmin shows up. then let her watch a bloom bloom live clip and immediately asked me "wheres chucky?" kinda cute. im a proud cousin. now, she sings "down for your love, down for your love oOoOOoHHH" whenever we eat for some reason 🤷 i feel you with the maverick though. i instantly vibed with the song. ive gotten LSS with it and always unconsciously sing it in class. i. need. help.

okayy moving on! because of school Y^Y a 1k fic costed me two weekday nights of reading LOL but, i finally finished a lot of your nct fics. i started with the angels and demons series and dude, */ eyes begin to sweat /* i love how the pairings wasnt exclusive to demon to human or human to angel but also a demon to angel ?? LIKE, wow how would that go? plus, the chapter titles (is this what its called xd) of each fic in that alternate universe is spot on AND creative. trust a demon is one of my 2 favourites in the 5. uhh didnt expect chenle and jeno to be supernatural beings so 👀 anyways, favourite part was when she draws mark just from memory. HOW DO ARTISTIC PEOPLE DO THAT ? i cant believe the people around her would be petty enough to call her a draw freak when theyre just actually jealous lolol i admire those who are great at arts because i would want to draw my loved ones someday. like, legit drawings that are realistic and not stickmen.... sad.. its cool okay. hated chenle and jeno for a bit for being such asses and ignoring her when they know full well shes going through tough stuff. but eh, fortunately this is fiction JDKJFADS. kiss an angel IS THE SECOND FAVOURITE. a blown kiss, an indirect kiss, a kiss on the hand, a kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the forehead, AND a kiss on the lips. and so forth. OMF lina, how are you real? these chapter titles went straight through my heart. when chenle was ready to go through the punishment of being wingless, i felt his pain. literal physical pain for some reason. or imagined, uh same thing 🤷 felt proud when chenle finally understood how in love mark was with his significant other to go through such lengths of begging in hell and accepting the possible punishment that may arise. which didnt happen because lucifer seemed more like the good guy here than god IM SORRY.

reading those stories got me thinking a what if. what if i was living there in that universe? would i choose to become an angel or a demon? or live the ignorant life of a human? OHH YEAH QUESTON, all of them were mortals at one point in their life right? so, do all those who passed away become guardian angels/demons? between the ideologies of the 2 races that greatly hate each other, i feel like i would agree with the demons. does this make me heartless😭 it does kinda suck that demons would save you from various accidents only to kill you when your time ends but disregarding the fact in the story that those unearthly beings are real, life has never been fair after all. the angels there say that its unfair that those who strive to do good and has done nothing but good are fated to die young. so, would it be fair to them (angels) that those who just grew up in the wrong environment would die at such an early age? or maybe i prefer to side with the demons just because of how i oppose i am with the angels' thoughts lololol

i honestly would want to continue this ask but its my curfew here soon so no more laptop for today 💀 i still have a lot i want to say -> this sounds oddly threatening. i DONT trust my phone with sending asks, not one bit, after the incident last time. basically, i spent 2 to fucking 3 hours writing a feedback for a fic that i love love love so much and finished it at 2 in the morning only for the words "something went wrong" to appear after pressing ask. i- 👁️👄👁️ idk if this is allowed but a little promotion for lixeque's midnight in the maize, that was the fic that gave me goosebumps and took away my sleepiness. tiredness doesnt equate to sleepiness though. thats why i got so pissed when tumblr didnt send it and had to redo it LMFAO

ill try continuing this ask tomorrow when im not busy :">> i cant help my chatter mouth. or fingers? or no. I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT YOUR OTHER NCT FICS. again, sounds threatening but oh wells. hope you had and will have great days lina! also, do you still stan nct? or no bc this would be embarrassing for me to possibly rant about how amazing they are in the future asks... lol again stay safe!

- 🌸

okay. OKAY. anon first of all I'm so sorry I'm responding to this late - I've been swamped all week and wanted to take an appropriate amount of time to answer this because I really appreciate how much time you put into writing these asks and you deserve as much thought/time when I respond (also??????/ holy fuck??????? I'm so sorry about your ask that Tumblr deleted like what the FUCK this site is just so bad gdi)

there is absolutely no need to apologize for stanning nct first holy shit they're really good just not my cup of tea anymore!!!!! and ugh HELP why did you start by reading my nct fics ahhhHHHHHH /insert skull emoji/ there is a lot of cringe stuff there but... I'm just glad you are able to see the growth LOL because that means I'm at least improving!! angels and demons is definitely a series that's close to my heart so I'm glad you enjoyed it - it was my first foray into longer works and even though I cringe a bit at it, it was still fun to write :) to be honest, I lean a little more toward the demons' side as well? that's just my view. I've been thinking about this series for some time tbh and now I think it might've been better if I'd given the demons' views to the angels and vice versa, idk it just feels more fitting, but oh well :)

ALSO ??????? YOU GOT YOUR COUSIN INTO TBZ??????????? AND SHE CHANGMIN CHUCKY????????????? WHY IS THAT THE CUTEST THING EVER WHAT THE FUCK????????/ and thank you for the fic rec, I don't read too many fics anymore but I'll keep it in mind if the urge to read strikes me <3

[swishandflickwit]

living in color 2/4

Summary: A year following the events of ACOWAR, Feyre tries to build a better world but struggles to cope. How is she supposed to heal the world if she can’t even heal herself? Luckily, words are not the only form of expression.

Post-war AU in which the Court of Dreams use art as a form of healing.

WARNING: ACOWAR SPOILERS AHEAD!

Rating: Mature for language.

Read: part i | part ii

Also on ff.net | AO3

AN: Feyre and Cassian brotp galore in this chapter. I love all the friendships on ACOTAR but a special shoutout to these two because I really adored their friend chemistry in the book and how intuitive Cassian is to other people’s feelings. (Except his own, lol)

part ii. brown & blue

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for. -Georgia O’Keeffe

Despite her earlier declarations, Feyre doesn’t immediately go out and buy herself a canvas and paint supplies.

Baby steps, she tells herself.

She spends her mornings alternating with Rhys – meetings with the High Lords, meetings with the palace governors, meetings in the Hewn City and occasionally, a visit to the Illyrian camps where Cassian and Azriel dedicate majority of their time and efforts integrating Illyrian girls into their training and armies.

The work is draining and slow-going, though in her hours of doubt, Feyre reminds herself of the promise she made to the Suriel.

Leave this world a better place than you found it.

And she wants to… is doing so. But, she figures, she can’t exactly achieve that if she’s always dead on her feet.

So when she comes home, her afternoons are consumed by the various plazas of Velaris and helping the people to rebuild the city.

(Though nights spent in Rhys’ arms is her favorite part of her day. It’s a different kind of art that occurs between them, when they make love and colors explode behind her eyelids.)

Wherever she goes she carries with her a sketchbook, only a little bigger than her hand, and in the moments in between – she sketches.

Nothing so grand as the landscapes and portraits that she used to do in the Spring Court. In fact, the images she scribbles onto her pad are seemingly mundane and insignificant. Sometimes it’s the snowflakes that line the edge of Viviane’s flowing skirt or the flowers that bloom in Elain’s garden in the town house. Other times it’s the rubies that adorn Amren’s neck or, if she’s feeling particularly inspired, the city skyline from the view of the House of Wind’s rooftop. It’s pictures she would akin to the ones she would paint in the cottage on the edge of the woods when she was a human.

(It is a period that feels like a lifetime ago and yet, as fae as she is in appearance, inimitable in power and everlasting in existence, her heart will remain, forevermore, human.

Endlessly and fallibly human .)

It’s when she makes her way to the Rainbow that she, as an artist, engages in her biggest undertaking yet. Except it doesn’t really feel like a momentous occasion.

After all… she is in the artists’ quarters. It’s no surprise that those who dwell here take the rebuilding efforts as an opportunity to, well, flaunt their talents for around her, she sees murals painted over any free and solid space.

So really, it’s more of a natural progression when instead of a roller brush, the residents equip her with paintbrushes of various kinds, thickness and sizes, and paints of countless colors.

In the continent, vandalism or defacing of any kind on public spaces were strictly forbidden and grounds for penitentiary.

But she is not in the continent.

In the Court of Dreams her heart is free to want, and what she wants is to make her mark.

Still, she takes a breath.

It’s her first sojourn to the Rainbow since the attack of Hybern. From her spot in the opening, she can clearly mark in her mind the path she is to take that would lead her to where she had killed the Attor. The memory and the tragedy of the day are as fresh in her mind as the air she breathes in. If she closes her eyes and clenches her fist, the clamor of the artists’ quarters fades and she feels the blade pierce through the leathery skin of that grotesque creature as blood spurts from the wound, staining her hands a dark red, the wind on her face as they spiralled hard and fast towards the ground and the sick thud as the Attor’s body splattered, limp and lifeless onto the–

Stop, she tells herself.

She takes another deep breath.

Baby steps .

She’s eager to dispel the cloud of despair the recollections had brought forth from her and so it’s with an excited grin that she ambles to the pile of materials in front of her and picks up a simple round brush. She is just about to take a stroll to find herself a panel to spruce up when someone calls her name. There is a steady number of people all scattered about and a quiet murmur ripples down the pavement as they turn to her, a murmur that grows into a chorus –

“Feyre!”

“High Lady!”

“Cursebreaker!”

“ Defender!” – the last epithet being the loudest amongst them.

The chanting grows as applause joins the cacophony. Feyre freezes when people from the other connected streets begin trickling into the main one and making their way to her. She’s overwhelmed, that much is certain when all she does is stop and stare at the crowd that begins to circle her. They approach her with bright eyes, wide smiles and love and admiration on their lips and she means to return it, to reach out and let them know that she appreciates it, them , all of it.

Her heart begins a staccato beat.

She makes to take the congratulatory, outstretched hand before her except her limbs feel heavy and her palms wet, everything around her becomes slow, like she’s navigating through murky, viscous water. Then the voices surrounding her are no longer voices but the screams of her people dying on the very street because she was too late to save them, the arms encircling her transform to ash arrows tipped in faebane headed straight towards her and she is numb, paralyzed .

The edges of her vision blacken so she blinks it away and for a moment she is back in Velaris, enveloped by the artists, living artists, that inhabit the Rainbow. Except the sharp sound of a metal bucket being kicked over reminds her too much of the Cauldron’s keening as it cleaved in three, and the ground shakes beneath her. What have I done? she thinks. What have I done? and again and again and again.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? WhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdo–

Feyre?

An inexplicable sensation pools in the bottom of her gut that has her feeling both hollow and full and, despite her sensible side’s awareness that the dangers have long since passed, a terror so fierce courses through her entire being. But she endeavors to maintain that is safe and she is home . The fact that her mate calls for her, his darkness cool and soothing as it glides gently down their bond, is a testament to that.

Yet his voice is so faint, so far away…

FEYRE.

He cries and though she knows it for the bellow that it is, it sounds like nothing but echoes in the outskirts of her mind.

Breathe, Feyre, his voice is practically a whisper. I just need you to breathe.

She strains to hear him but what little of his voice does stream into her consciousness  jolts her to attention and she finally grasps the tightness in her chest and the shallowness of her breaths. So she forces herself to take huge gulps of air.

Too fast, love, Rhys says softly. Give it four counts as you breathe in and another four when you breathe out.

She recalls the breathing technique as the one that Cassian taught her during their workouts together and she summons that training now as she grapples to gain control of her mind once more.

She breathes in for four counts and as she does so, she scrambles for the link that tethers her to Rhys.

I’m here, he beckons, his voice a lovely lilt. Come find me, I’m right here.

She breathes out and Rhys is just a bit clearer in her mind.

That’s it, he sighs as her breathing starts to slow.

Rhys?

You found me. You’re all right.

She doesn’t realize her eyes are closed till she’s opening them and dozens of pairs of concerned gazes are staring right at her.

“I, I’m so–” she clenches and unclenches her fists to stop them from shaking.

“Are you all right, my Lady?”

No matter how much she owns it, being addressed by her proper title is still a habit she’s not used to so even in her panic-induced state of mind she finds it in herself to reply, “It’s just Feyre.”

Somewhere in her consciousness, Rhys chuckles, and her heartbeat gradually steadies.

It coaxes a small smile from her even as she replies, “No. I don’t think I am.”

Cassian is on his way .

Though she has no idea what for, she says, “I’m so sorry, everyone.”

Just as she finishes, a gust of wind and a tremble of the flagstone underfoot announces her friend’s arrival.

She turns just in time to marvel at the sight of the hulk of a general navigate through a sea of faes he towers over, his wings tucked in tight so as not to accidentally jostle anyone in the face. She’d giggle if her fear wasn’t yet abating and exhaustion wasn’t seizing her every muscle so she grins, weakly, instead as he squeezes himself between two significantly shorter faes.

When he catches the look on her face, he huffs. “Sure, laugh at the one trying to help you out here.”

She shakes her head amusedly. “Hey Cas.”

He reaches her and places a hand at her shoulder. He immediately sobers when he surveys her and notices the clamminess of her skin. “You good?”

She takes a moment to assess herself. The sweat that glides down the slope of her back is cold yet her blood runs hot beneath her skin, like she could shoot straight to the sun if she spread her wings that very moment. But there’s a gnawing in her belly that keeps her anchored to the ground and has her limbs feeling cumbersome and heavy.

And she is tired, drained even. Had she been human, she’s positive she would be passed out that very second but she thanks the Cauldron for her fae strength – the only reason she can even walk much less stand. Still, she does not feel wholly all right, her emotions turbulent and ugly in her brain that her only thought is, she doesn’t want to be seen as she is. She merely looks at Cassian, her eyes wide and open and as if reading her thoughts, he shoos the onlookers with a “don’t you have work to do?” and the crowd begins to dissipate, leaving lingering and curious looks behind them.

He turns to her. “Should we go home?”

She nods and, too sluggish to winnow or fly but still quite restless from the dwindling adrenaline, they begin the walk back when Feyre places a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” She frowns at the concern on her friend’s face. “Nothing,” she shakes her head. “Actually, there is something I need to do first.” He raises his eyebrows in question and she smiles, if a bit sheepishly. “Will you… will you help me?”

It’s like his whole countenance softens at the inquiry, tension melting away as his shoulders loosen and his playful grin returns.

With seemingly every ounce of his enthusiasm wrapped around his response of, “ Of course! ” he puts an arm around her shoulders and gives her an affectionate squeeze. “What exactly do you need help with?”

“Mostly housework.” she pauses. “And art work.”

“Count me in! I mean,” and his voice drops into a conspiratorial whisper, “I know this body itself is a masterpiece but, no nude portraits all right? I don’t think Rhysand will appreciate it.” He shudders. “Or your sister, for that matter.” She doesn’t need to ask which sister he’s referring to. An impish grin crosses his lips. “Then again, maybe she would be apprecia–”

She shoves him before he can finish the thought. “You’re an idiot.”

“A really fit idiot,” he returns with a rakish grin.

“An idiot nonetheless.”

He shrugs. “You know what they say about beauty,” he pauses for dramatic effect and Feyre rolls her eyes. A child – she is friends with a child . “It’s in the eye of the most good-looking one in the room.”

Case in point. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

He waves a flippant hand in dismissal.“Semantics.”

She shakes her head in feigned besetment. “Come on oh Wise and Humble One,” she links her arm with his. “I’ve got materials to gather and you’re,” she pats a muscled forearm, “going to help me carry them.”

They make it a few paces when Cassian stops her this time. “Feyre, what happened earlier…” she sucks in a sharp breath. “I just want you to know that I get it.”

“You do?”

In lieu of a response, he nods towards a nearby café. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Lunch?” There remains the leaden weight in her stomach but she’s about to voice her acquiescence anyway when his stomach releases an obstreperous grumble. There’s a beat of astonishment at the sound, resounding as it is with their fae hearing, before they erupt in laughter.

“I guess that answers that question,” she mutters teasingly under her breath, a tone Cassian chooses to ignore as they make their way to the tables beneath the charming cobalt-colored awning of the bistro. He did say he was famished.

When their food arrives, there is naught but the sounds of clinking utensils and the customary racket of a marketplace drifting in the silence between them. Faes wander the streets and heckle customers into entering their kitschy boutiques or purchasing their wares. Music spills from one of the winding avenues and onto the pavement beneath her feet as a musician weaves a blithe tune with a syrinx. The Rainbow teems with life and Feyre looses herself in the vibrancy of the scenery.

But a glance across the table at her friend tells a different story, evident as it is in the tautness to his muscles and the tension that lines his mouth – lips and brows bowed in a frown. A wall of iron shutters his eyes and banishes their light as thousands of stories, raw and sorrowful, flash before them. She is all too reminded then of her youth, that despite all she’s been through, she is but a child compared to her friend. She can only imagine what he could have possibly been through, sure that what Rhysand told her of their time in the Illyrian camp merely a blip in his, by then, already long life.

When he turns to her, she offers him an encouraging smile and a bit of that light bleeds back into his eyes.

“Will you tell me about what happened to me earlier?” she gulps, recalling the fear that seized her bones and rooted her in place. “What was that? I’ve never felt anything like it before, except…” Except when I held the Cauldron and it trapped me in place.

The bond between Rhysand and her flares in response to the thought. Rhys’ soothing darkness wraps around her mind, calming the onslaught of memories that threaten to drown her. It is a comfort, that though he isn’t there with her physically, she will never have to bear her pain alone.

Cassian allows her to trail off without question, in tune as he always is with her feelings, and for that she is ever grateful. The gratitude is replaced with worry when an air of aloofness overcomes the Illyrian as he explains the nature of her circumstance.

“You had a panic attack. It occurs when your body experiences an overwhelming feeling of fear and anxiety. Triggers for such episodes are often sporadic but not wholly unpredictable…”

He continues to list off facts with a clinical detachment so unlike Cassian, she’s tempted to duck under the table or summon her magic to drop the glamour and reveal the real Cassian, as if he’s just hid behind some nearby corner.

But she likes to think she knows her friend better than that, so she simply places a hand on his forearm and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Cas,” she says soothingly, a touch of concern in her tone when she notices his skin is clammy where she’s touching him. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you about this, you know you can just… talk to me, right?”

In all fairness, Cassian doesn’t outright deny his discomfort, but – as she’s come to learn – nothing ever worthwhile comes easy. So.

They engage in a staring contest.

One that she wins with aptly maneuvered raised eyebrows and cultivated I-am-your-High-Lady glares that has him deflating all together in a matter of seconds . She tries not to be too smug about it but judging by the glacial expression on his face, she fails. She schools her features into an innocent one instead then gestures for him to proceed.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He heaves a long breath, his wings rippling with the motion, before dropping his shoulders and leaning back in his chair, affecting an air of nonchalance that must have infuriated his superiors when he was still but a foot soldier in the army. Once again, she’s reminded that the male before her is a general and, joking aside, has commanded armies by the thousands with a power nearly equal to Rhysand and possesses a kill count with that number to match.

It’s with that thought that she realizes, “You used to have them.”

“I still do.”

“No.”

Amusement flickers briefly on his face at her denial. She can’t help it – she has a hard time reconciling the image of the unflappable general before her with the immovable wreck that she was earlier.

He runs a hand through his chin-length hair. “It’s not exactly something I advertise.”

She shakes her head.

Even in the face of defeat, Cassian has never yielded. He’d spat in the face of Death, twice in the time she’s known him – an occurrence that has undoubtedly cropped up in his past and is likely to do so again should the occasion for it rise. He is steel forged in fire.

But even steel bends.

“How? When? ”

He gives her an appraising look. “I’m sure Rhys has told you all about my life by now.”

She shakes her head. “The bare bones more like, and only if he needs to. For everyone.”

He exhales, as if relieved. “That sounds like him,” he murmurs. “Well, do you know about the Blood Rite, at least?”

She nods.

He directs his gaze towards the street then, but she can tell he is somewhere else entirely – a place she cannot reach and one only he can see.

“We fought to be in the Blood Rite, did you know?” She did. “To be in that–that, stupid tradition and for what, to prove who could be the strongest? The most ruthless? Most bloodthirsty? ” He laughs, though the sound couldn’t be farther from amusement. Then he stops so abruptly that the silence becomes jarring. With eerie calmness, he continues. “The only thing I proved that day was that I would do anything, anything, to protect the ones I cared about, even kill – cause that’s exactly what I did that day. I killed my first, my second, my third…”

His eyes glaze and she doesn’t need to use her daemati powers to sense that he is entrenched in painful memories. She knows what it is to look at your clean and washed hands yet still see the way the blood of those lives you took continue to be drenched in it, that for every life you take, deserved or not, a part of you is taken too. In his eyes, she sees the parts of his soul that have splintered because the jagged edges match hers, and Rhys’ and Nesta’s and Elain’s and Amren’s – them all.  

“I stole away all those lives but I don’t regret it, not a single one. Because those bastards deserved it,” an inferno blazes in his orbs and there is fire in his words, as if daring her to judge him. “And because it brought me back to my family .”

Except there’s no judgement but understanding in her hold, when she looks at him and takes his hand in hers.

The rigidity in Cassian’s posture fades and the fire extinguishes from him as he loses a breath, giving her an answering squeeze before letting go.

“That’s when it started?” She asks softly and he responds with a clipped nod. “They haven’t stopped since, although,” he hurries to reassure her when it looks as if she’s ready to burst from concern, “not as often and certainly not as long as they used to be. It was way worse before…”

He proceeds to recount how he would get panic attacks before and after battles – how he would be overcome by a sinking feeling in his gut, coupled with a mounting terror that gripped his entire body and rendered him immovable. He was only thankful that he had the presence of mind to bring himself away from his fellow soldiers or from the eye of his superiors each time, not that he could control the frequency of their occurrences then. In fact, he had no idea what was even happening to him, only that he could not, would not, let anyone not close to him see him in such a state of weakness.

She looks at him, her mouth agape in absolute awe and wonder. “How… how do you get through them?”

He smiles, the softest and most tender she’s ever seen Cassian. She tucks the image in the part of her mind filled with all the blank canvases she has yet to bring to life. Steel Warrior, she’d call it.

“I remind myself that my friends are well and alive, in order to calm down. The thought of them kept me going, keeps me going and the list only continues to grow.” He rolls his eyes and gives her a pointed look which leaves little room to doubt that she, along with her sisters, are the expansion to the list. She laughs because she knows his exasperation is in jest. “As well as those breathing exercises I taught you.”

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’ as Rhysand’s instructions to her from earlier come to mind.

“The others know, then.”

Cassian lets out an annoyed groan though his cheeks are tinged pink. “I can never fucking keep anything from Rhys. The moment he found out he took me straight to Madja. She was the one to explain it to me, to all of us. I’d have been embarrassed, but Rhys is such a mother hen and Az was being all intense so I figured I’d let them fuss if it meant they’d feel better, nevermind that I was actually the patient in question.” Another roll of his eyes but she can see the smile that threatens to stretch his lips, so she smiles wide enough for the both of them. It is short lived however, when she notices his shoulders tense once more.

“I’ve gotten better at managing it over the years. The last one that was really bad was… it was about 52 years ago, then again after Hybern. And you know all about that.” – of course, when the High Lord had tethered the Inner Circle to Velaris and the quiet that settled in Cassian’s mind in the absence of Rhys, the same kind he had told her about in the immediate aftermath of the events in Hybern. It’s all too clear now, why he had to be sedated, not just to save his wings but to save him.

He glances away. “It’s funny… as the bastard son of an Illyrian Lord, I had to fight for everything my entire life. Being dumped into that mountain for the Blood Rite should have been nothing – another day, another battle. I should have been used to it. And all the camp lords and the generals would go on about how glorious it all was, ‘an honor’ even. That’s why it took so much to convince them to participate – two bastards and a half-blood, no matter how powerful, weren’t worthy .” The last word is spat out like a curse. She’s inclined to agree, her face twisting in a sneer when she recalls every time she’s seen Devlon speak to Cassian without an ounce of respect. She’s about to voice her thoughts when she sees his shoulders sag, his hair a limp curtain around his bowed head. He trembles.

“Perhaps there is some honor to be found in a battle fairly won. But there’s nothing fair or honorable about war. There’s no glory to be found in taking a life, enemy or ally, not for me at least.

“It’s just another stain on my soul I’ll never be rid of.”

He sighs. “I am War Commander of the Night Court Army, yet I do not enjoy war. Some general, right?” A chuckle escapes him, an acrid, broken sound. “What a laugh.”

She opens her mouth to protest but he waves her off, like he didn’t just drop a bomb of information on her. “So anyway, it’s like I said, it’s not so bad now. In fact, I can even help you–”

“Stop it,” she whispers. “You don’t get to make light of this. You don’t get to brush this off.” She shakes her head. “You have no idea how strong you are, do you?”

He flexes his muscles in jest. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

She resists the urge to punch him. Her temper must show on her face because he raises his hands in a show of both surrender and apology.

She wants to say more. She wants to gush more like, as if to make up for her obliviousness by plying him with compliments. Not that he would graciously accept them, she recognizes a front when she sees one. For all his humor and posturing, to say he was hurting underneath would be a gross understatement – understandable, given everything he’s been through and all that he’s revealed to her. She just never realized how deep that hurt went nor did she fully comprehend the great pains he took to hide it. She doesn’t know if she should hug him or smack him for it – it seems to be a problem amongst the Inner Circle, the inability to be completely direct with their feelings till pain of death forces it out of them. But life or death situations are, thankfully (hopefully), behind them so they’re trying, all of them.

Besides, words are not the only form of expression.

In lieu of any violent or saccharine tendencies, Feyre looks at him with no shortage of affection when she says, “You’re a great leader and an even greater friend.” She dips her chin to catch his eye. “Don’t sell yourself short, Cassian.”

Knowing this is all he’s willing to take, she doesn’t wait for a reply. Merely leaves enough currency to cover their meal and a generous tip before rising from her seat. She throws him a questioning glance. “Does the offer of assistance still stand?”

There’s a hint of red to his cheeks, but the veil of despondency has left his eyes. It’s wonderful for Feyre to see it replaced by gratefulness and that glimmer of overexcitement and mischievousness that always seems to encapsulate Cassian’s every look and movement. He stands and with a crack of his knuckles, turns to her, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Lead the way.”

Nesta and Elain have long since moved from the townhouse and bought their own dwellings with the wages Rhysand so generously pays them and so Feyre is free to turn her old bedroom into an art room. Cassian, true to his word, helps her out.

Unlike her art room in the Spring Court, this time Feyre has a hand at not just filling the room with paintings, but with everything.

The sun is just about to sink below the horizon when Rhysand walks into a minefield made up of Feyre’s old furniture.

“Feyre?” He calls out with a modicum of bewilderment.

Her head immediately pops out of her old bedroom. “You’re home!”

Before he can muster up a reply, she is barrelling into him, all long limbs and tangled hair and swelling of paint and sweat and, he notes with relief, elation. He smiles.

“I see you’ve been busy,” he remarks once he’s released from her hug though he doesn’t stray far, his hand trailing down her arm to entwine their fingers. She kisses his cheek. “How are you?”

“Tired,” he admits. “Though I’m glad to be home.” He tilts his head in the direction of her room. “Is that Cassian in there?”

“Hello, brother!”

“Hello…” Rhys calls back, more out of reflex than polite greeting. He turns to Feyre, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. “Why won’t he come out?”

She bites her lip, as if to contain her laughter and rather cryptically replies, “He’s a little busy.” She tugs at their joined hands. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Together, they weave through chairs, dodge wayward lamps and hop over planks of wood that must have once composed the bed with laughter on their lips before they reach the nearly shut door.

When Feyre nudges it ajar, the sight that greets him astounds him.

The once white walls have now been replaced with a blue, so deep it’s nearly violet. It reminds him of Velaris at night, when the last of the sun’s light touches the skies and the heavens clear for the stars to spill out. Sure enough, the sun sinks below the horizon and what little light reaches the window from the outside and that from the roaring fireplace, touches the wall. It flares to a blazing indigo.

Noticing his look of utter awe, Feyre gives him a playful nudge. “It reminds me of your eyes.” Her mouth takes the beatific form of her smile and, as he’s helplessly wont to do each time he is witness to her happiness, he feels his heart skip a beat and he’s mesmerized.

A throat clears, rather loudly, somewhere to his left and that’s when he manages to tear his eyes away from Feyre (much to her amusement) to marvel at the peculiar sight of Cassian on all fours and hunched over the skirting board. Even more amazing is the firm grip he has on the paintbrush as he fills in the space directly atop the baseboard.

Feyre expects Rhysand to start teasing the general but there’s a calculating look on his face as he appraises their friend. A bead of sweat trickles from Cassian’s forehead to the corner of his eye yet he pays it no mind, focused as he is on his task. Rhysand turns to her after a moment, a look of astonishment on his face.

What is it?

I haven’t seen him so… relaxed. Surprise colors his tone and he struggles with the word, as if the act of leisure in relation to Cassian is so unheard of, it’s practically a  foreign concept. Not even before I left for Under the Mountain.

She eyes the tremble in Cassian’s arm as he steadies his hand to paint the horizontal length of the molding. She looks at her mate with more than a modicum of disconcertion.

I think you mixed up the meaning of relaxed again.

Rhysand rolls his eyes but the corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. He addresses Cassian.

“I’m famished. I’m going to the kitchens to see what Nuala and Cer have whipped up. Do you want anything?”

Cassian lets out a noncommittal shrug and it’s apparently all the response he needs because Rhysand makes his way to the door.

“You coming, Feyre, darling?”

What is happening?

Humor me.

She shrugs. “I could use a bite to eat.” She walks towards Rhysand but hesitates at the door. She glances at Cassian. “You sure you don’t want anything, Cas?” she asks, an inexplicable anxiousness to her voice.

“I’m good.”

When they reach the kitchens, Rhysand waves the shadow sisters away and offers to take over dinner preparations so they could have an early night for themselves. They accept, gratuitous appreciation spilling from their lips before they shadow away to their own quarters.

Rhysand navigates the kitchen with an ease that she envies. This is something they did together, after the war – try to learn how to cook, try being the operative word. Suffice it to say, her mate is charged with food preparation when it calls for it while skinning animals, boiling water and heating soup pretty much sums up the extent of her culinary skills.

She helps as best as she can though her mate mostly delegates her into setting their table and preparing the serving platters for when he’s finished cooking. With nothing to do but wait and mindful of Cassian’s presence, she continues their conversation.

I don’t get it, she starts, what exactly was it about him that screamed, ‘relaxed’ to you? I mean, he refused our offer to eat. Cassian – said no, to food! She shakes her head because the act of Cassian not joining them for a meal is just that baffling to her. He never says no to food.

Exactly, Rhys shoots her a pointed look. Darling, I should tell you that as you grow into your daemati powers, you’ll find yourself becoming more attuned to other people’s presence and, should you grow fond of them, their emotions as well. You won’t even have to enter their minds, it’s kind of like a feeling or, he pauses, searching for the right words, it’s intuition . And it gets stronger the closer you are to a person. Now I’ve known Cassian for what feels like my entire existence – it’s as if I can’t even imagine what life was before I met him and Azriel so believe me when I say, something in him has shifted.

And you think it has something to do with the painting?

Partly yes, Rhys serves their meal but instead of taking a seat, he moves her chair to face him as he kneels before her, hands caressing her thighs all the way to the back of her knees in less of a seduction and more of affection. He levels her with a gaze full of awe and inspiration, all tender eyes and soft, smiling lips. But I think it has more to do with you. He makes a slow path from her knee to the side of her thigh, till he’s entwined their fingers on one hand. You have to know how much you mean to him, to all of us.

Touched beyond words, she runs her free hand through his locks, the silky strands of them slipping through her fingers before trailing them along the apple of his cheeks in a gentle caress. She wants to tell him that she feels exactly the same way – how she was so, so lost before he not just gave her but showed her how to carve a better way for herself, how her days are brimming with love and laughter and appreciation thanks to their friends, their family, that she was paralyzed before he taught her how to be a dreamer, that she’s thankful that they all accepted her and her sisters as a part of their family, that he inspires her everyday to want believe, not just in him, them and the future they want to build for the next generation of dreamers, but in herself as well, that thanks to him, she found a way to set herself free – but too many words struggle to break free from the tangle in her throat.

He sighs, and there’s sorrow in his eyes when he brushes his knuckles along her cheek. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner. I’m sorry that I’m always too late.

She shakes her head. You’re always with me, whether we’re strangers or lovers, human or fae, alive or dead.

Sounds ominous.

She rolls her eyes but she can see the way his face contorts sharply in reminder. She shakes her head, a fond smile shaping her lips as she recalls Cassian’s heartfelt confession. Besides, I believe I was exactly with who I needed to be in that moment.

She brings their clasped hands towards her lips and lays a long, sweet kiss upon the back of Rhysand’s hand in thanks, because who else would have thought to send the perfect person but him? He exhales shakily, his cool breath brushing delicately across her skin as she rests her forehead atop his and with everything she can’t express, she thinks perhaps her mate has heard her after all.

They stay, locked in that moment just a minute more, before she slowly lets go. They share a smile, a conversation in their eyes when she grabs another plate. She distributes the food and with a tilt of her head, she and Rhysand return to the art room where Cassian appears to be putting the final flourishes for the baseboard.

When she enters, she catches herself before she drops their platters in jubilation and subsequently erupts in applause. Cassian, unaware of her presence, turns at the sound of her clapping, siphons glowing in the light of dusk before altogether disappearing at the sight of his High Lady’s enthusiasm and his High Lord’s arms laden with food. He grins.

“Food!” He shouts excitedly just as Feyre exclaims, “Amazing!”

To the couple’s surprise, Cassian turned beet red at the praise when any other time he would have preened at the attention. He scratches at the hair on the nape of his neck before squaring his shoulders and crossing his arms. He gives Feyre a playful nudge as they stand side by side in front of the last finished wall, Rhysand behind them and silent as shadows as he observes the pair. “I’m a regular artist, don’t you think?” Cassian says in a teasing manner though she could detect the underlying sheepish tone. She gives him an appraising look.

“Yes,” she whispers. “You are.”

Cassian merely shrugs off her response. Though she doesn’t miss the calculating look on his face as he surveys the wall before them, the wall he worked on all on his own, with a proud and quietly awed look of accomplishment on his face. He shakes his head as if to shake him from his stupor, before making a beeline for the food. He and Rhysand argue over food proportions as Cassian heaps a mountainous serving of food onto his plate. Feyre joins them after a beat, an idea forming in her head. Rhysand throws her a smile.

Looks like you have your first student.

She doesn’t have his same confidence but it turns out her doubt was for naught, because here in her finished art room, she stands before a work of art – one that is not of her own making, but proud of it all the same. Her cheeks hurt from all the smiling she’s done since Cassian declared he was finished with his first painting (after only a week of lessons!).

At his intense stare, she asks, “What is it?”

“It’s just, it was so… blank. And now it’s not.”

Amused, she replies, “That is, generally, how paintings tend to work.”

She gets a hard shove for that one but she doesn’t mind, not when they’re both laughing so hard. When she regains her balance and their chortles simmer down, a calm silence blankets the pair as they regard his work.

“I thought all it took to paint was a brush and some colors. I’m surprised at how much thought had to be put into it – the combination of colors to use, the kind of brush, the angle of your wrist – all so you can bring this image in your head alive except it’s not just an image, is it? It’s a part of you you’re leaving on a canvas that isn’t really a canvas anymore but something else, something you’ve shaped – something you’ve made and… do you know what I mean?”

She looks at him, or rather, she looks at his hands – rough with years of hard work, calluses in places a weapon would fit – hands that have killed. Then she looks at the explosion of color before her, the gentle consideration she can see in every stroke and the deliberateness in every hue, looks at the hands who made them. She smiles at him.

“Yes,” she knows a thing or two about beginning anew.

She doesn’t say the last thought aloud but when he looks back at her and returns her grin, she thinks he might read the answer on her face anyway.

Later that night, she catches Cassian just as he’s about to fly back to his apartment, his painting covered and bound for a safe journey home. She walks him out, a solemnity trailing their footstep, and when they reach the door, they share a look. No words are exchanged and she understands what Rhysand means about her daemati powers and growing attuned to other people’s feelings. A conversation passes between them in that one encompassing look – friendship, affection, humor, accomplishment, pride, gratitude and more than anything, healing.

She thinks about how Cassian encases himself in steel in order to combat his weaknesses – a battle against a terrorizing nation or a battle against his own body when assailed with a panic attack. And sure, perhaps steel bends.

Yet as he flies away, his work of art clutched tightly, lovingly, in his hands, of one thing she is absolutely certain when it comes to Cassian, to herself, to Rhysand and the entire Court of Dreams – they might bend under the crippling weight of a world that thrives in darkness.

But they will never break.

[theabsentmindedarchitect]

Supercorp Fic recs

Shit’s lit.

BOLDED are my absolute favorites.

UPDATED AS OF 9/26

Kissed by the sun by lostariel Medieval AU- There’s fluff, then angst, then fluff again, then holy shit angst. Top pick for me- highly rec it. One of those fics that make you physically feel because of how good it is. Ongoing as of this post. 

Signs by lostariel- Aphasiaic!Kara, no powers. Really, really interesting insight into Kara.

Millennium Prize Problem by lostariel- No powers, Lena’s a maths genius bent on solving one of the biggest unsolved problems in computing. Feat. Physics genius Kara + angst

the Birth of Venus by lostariels AU where Lena is the most extra art thief and Kara’s so done with her shit

Actually you want to know what? I’m just gonna rec anything that’s from lostariel to save time. One of the people I look up as a writer.

Eclipse by Local_Asshole Kara ascends to become a god, but what about those she left behind? Another required read.

Made of Stars by gveret Similar AU to above

Lord, Save me from your followers by anamatics- One of the required reads in the SC fandom. Title says all.

Portals Are Unreliable by Rhino (RhinoMouse)- Medieval AU, crossover with Merlin-  Kara tries to return home after helping Barry but somehow lands in another world. Attempting to find a way home, she comes across someone who looks a lot like Lena…. Ongoing series with 4 parts.

On this night (and in this life) by Lady_Hircine- two shot, post medusa au- interesting view into Lena’s mind feat. her doubts and insecurities.

Promise. by ShippingThings  HOLY. SHIT. The first time Cat Grant sees Lena is when she’s 9. AU studying on the relationship between Cat Grant and Lena as she grows up. I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH. REQUIRED READING

Three Days by Silent_Specter- Post medusa AU. A bit heavy, really really good.

Red Earth & Pouring Rain by automaticheartache - Red!K FWB ish situation- feat unhealthy coping and mechanics and the actual desire to fix it 

Mercy by Rykeral THE MOTHER OF SLOW BURNS ONGOING WITH 67 CHAPTERS AND COUNTING WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS LENA SUCH A BADASS. REQUIRED. FUN FACT THIS FIC IS LONGER THAN HP DEATHLY HALLOWS

Swear Jar by BroodyJC- one shot. “Because right in between the ‘Cooler Danvers’ and ‘Mags Swags’ jars rested another one. Belonging to no one other than Lena Luthor.Lee :)” or Lena is a thirsty ‘ho who enjoys corrupting Kara

danishes and other sweet treats by unicyclehippo- one shot. Bed sharing. That is all.

Sunlit Honey and Lavender Sunsets by wtfoctagon - Another required read. Lena and Kara’s relationship through Jess’s eyes. Has a sequel here.

Whispers by gabs88- post medusa au. Longish side. Lillian somehow manages to escape and attempts to make Lena and Kara’s lives a living hell. While they’re trying to figure this thing that’s going on between them. 

Thunderbolt by chooseredemption- Smut. Lena with piercings. Nipple piercings.

Offstage by Aerstes The college theatre kid AU you never knew you needed feat. flirty AF Lena Luthor

This and That and All the Rest by gveret- Smut body worship. This is the softest thing I have ever read that the fuck

Kara Danver’s Most Successful Press Conference by luthorbitch- Smut.

It’s in the Stars (It’s been Written in the Scars/On our Hearts) by katevw8 Post Medusa AU. Feat slow burn and sex getaways and dates on alternate earths. Another required read.

Did You Absolutely Have To by gveret- hilarious “ (In which Lena insists on doing everything in the most unnecessarily ominous way possible.) “

Do not go gentle into that good night by Khrat9 . Medieval AU feat angst and badass Lena. Another required read.

Only Human by Khrat9 - Post Luthors + two shot. Feat. drunk Lena and post drunk confession sexy times.

somewhere i have never travelled by zefrumiousbandersnatch Soft Kara and Lena with time skips. Lena shows Kara the homes she’s lived in the past and how Kara is her new home. It’s gay.

We Need a New Song by uhpockuhlipz The Ballet AU you never knew you needed.

Unavoidable Dreams by C_AND_B Smut. Kara has sex dreams. About Lena. Two shot.

Duality by MsSirEy A study in trust, emotions- feat. a lot of smut.

cops, robbers & incredibly bad decisions by C_AND_B THE THIEF!LENA AU YOU NEEDED BUT WERE TOO LAZY TO WRITE YOURSELF. ONESHOT

And when it’s done we will walk where the road meets the sun by zefrumiousbandersnatch - Angst, unrequited love, and time travel hijinks. 

fall by cautiouslyoptimistic Oneshot. Supergirl falls on a Wednesday. Happy ending.

Her Brother’s Keeper by ProfessorSpork HOLY SHIT. “ Her Brother’s Keeper A CatCo Magazine exclusive by Kara Danvers” 

no one but you (got me feeling this way) by AgentJoanneMills Roomates college AU where Kara isn’t who she seems… No powers

negotiations and commands by TheRagingThespian Sometimes home is just an alien and her equally alien dog who can fly

How to Succeed in Business by automaticheartache AU where Kara takes a job at L-Corp to keep an eye on Lex’s little sister. Only Lena’s the opposite of who she expected her to be and Kara might be a little in love with her.

Supergirl In Training by wtfoctagon REQUIRED READ. So, for some reason Lena runs into her 17 year old daughter…. from the future. 

Handling It by C_AND_B Highschool AU. Lena might be a little enamored with the girl who moved across the street, but she’s handling it ok?

The Song Stuck in My Head by Marzos Soulmates AU where you hear the songs stuck in your soulmate’s heads. Why the fuck is Lena’s soulmate singing peanut butter jelly time. Oneshot.

You Wanna Be Friends Forever? I Can Think of Something Better by My_Heart_Is_Not_Cold The season 2 rewrite we needed. Mon-ew who? I don’t know him. Did I mention bed sharing?

Couches Have Feelings Too (Why Are You Naked) by yellowclock ITS CRACK. CRACK. ONESHOT.

Don’t Let Her Go by Cartecka Cat’s watched Lena grow up from a distance. 

fell down from the atmosphere (so i could whisper in your ear, so long) by tinyvariations Ongoing. Lena didn’t want to acknowledge it, but she was forced to as she watched Supergirl plummit to the ground. Why was this an issue? She’s dating Kara Danvers. Feat. flashbacks and the progression of their relationship.

To Disclose by arctor89 AU where Kara didn’t disable Lena’s alien detection device.

and stick it into someone else’s heart by Lizzen Smut. Sex pollen.

I’ll find you on every Earth by sasha272 Kara doesn’t come home after leaving to help Barry. So naturally Lena goes after her.

Did I Wake Up In My Happy Ending? by Rhino (RhinoMouse) Lena wakes up in the hospital and apparently she’s married to this gorgeous reporter, she has a family and everything is alright???

parent teacher association by captain_golden The parent-teacher AU you never knew you needed.

Prescription by La5021 “ Kara sees Lena wearing glasses and has no chill” oneshot

roll up your sleeves (everything is gonna be alright) by pelzeniton A fic looking into the relationship between Alex and Lena. Or how Lena lost one older brother and gained an older sister. Found Family.

Not a Fantasy by wallofcrazy SMUT. 

The Liar Game by ladyptarmigan Ongoing. Very interesting insight on the way Lena thinks. 

If the Suit Fits by littlebrother AU based on the idea that Lena went to college with Kara and designs her suit and is having a hard time repressing her gay. Oneshot

Unveiled by BiJane CRACK. Lena’s convinced Kara is some kind of serial streaker. ONESHOT

Would You Catch Me If I Fall For You (‘Cause I’m falling) by Khrat9 ONGOING Lena can see this woman that no one else can. So great. Begins before S2x1

but i’m weak (and what’s wrong with that?) by exprsslyfrbidden SMUT.” Lillian threatens to hurt Supergirl if Lena continues their friendship. Naturally, this means they should become friends with benefits.”

“Professional” Curiosity by TheSpaminator AU where Kara and Lena are rival CEOs and Kara’s this adorable badass and Lena can’t deal. ONGOING

maybe we were made to dance around each other, babe by goon - AU where Kara is a model and Lena is a singer. The Taylor Swift/Karlie Kloss AU you didn;t know you wanted at all to begin with. ONGOING

Paranoia Incarnated by SupercorpSmutFluffandAngst Mistaken identity hijinks. ONGOING FEAT THAT HEADCANON PEOPLE USE OF KARA TELLING APART HEARTBEATS

Cheating Death is Fine, But Cheating Kisses Are NOT by whitebeltwriter MISTAKEN IDENTITY.” Lena knows Kara is Supergirl but Kara doesn’t know that she knows.So when Lena kisses Supergirl as a thank you for saving her life, Kara takes it as Lena being willing to cheat on her and promptly avoids her for a week. Alex finds all of it hilarious.”

The Unsuccessful Capture of a Luthor by NyxAqua SMUT. Yawn-El gets put in his place lawl. ONESHOT

Of RedK & One-Night Stands by ForeverInsomniac ONGOING. RED!K After a one night stand, Lena returns to National City… only to have that certain one night stand walk into her office. ONGOING

Giant by coeurastronaute AU where Lena and Kara went to high school together and shit happens.. only for them to reconnect years later with some unresolved issues. ONGOING

Five Years by acoolusername Strange how things don’t really change in five years… but why is Lena in her apartment? Time travel Hijinks.

The Laws of Fate by sten06 Soulmate AU. Soulmates have red strings tying them to each other. Lena can see these strings and for some reason hers goes up towards the sky.

emotions and math by jennyquill SMUT

SuperDaddy by agtdamnvxrs (chxronica) CRACK ONESHOT

A Ribbon at a Time by abcooper AU where Lex defeated Superman and Kara had to go into hiding. Morbid curiousity brings her to Lex’s sister.

Headline: Luthor Shoots Down Supergirl, Just Not in the Way You’d Expect by theamazingkrypto TWOSHOT CRACK LOL

judge by cautiouslyoptimistic AU. Somehow one cat brings two people together. 

that’s how the light gets in by celaenos Season 2 rewrite.Yawn El who?

Roommates by JediFighterPilot2727 Post Invasion. Feat. Bed sharing and domestic fluff. Oneshot

The yellow door by luthorial Kara and Lena’s relationshp through the eyes of a chinese resturaunt waitress. shit’s cute

i’ll crawl home to her. by blxxm AU where Kara and Lena were in a foster home together. Ongoing

UPDATE 9/26: HERES SOME MORE BECAUSE I FORGOT TO ADD SOME! Or: me trying really hard not to recommend all the smut fics becaues I’m a thirsty ho. 

Ascendio by littlebrother- Goblet of fire AU featuring Beauxbatons Lena (KATIE MCGRATH IN THAT UNIFORM HELLO???) It’s soft and gay and features bed sharing. ONGOING

my youth is yours by lynnearlington- AU where Kara and Lena dated in college but then broke up. ANGSSSSTTTTTTTT ONGOING

Green Isn’t Always a Weakness by BattlingBard  Collection of prompts from canon and AUS. There’s a couple of prompts in here that feature them discussing how Kara doesn’t age AND ITS SO GODDAMN JUICY ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 47 I CRIED

I Always Want You by captain_golden HP AU where everyone is just hella gay like what the hell

The Fifth Wall by Black_Tea_and_Bones AU “Kara goes to bed with Mon-El, and wakes up with Lena Luthor.But it isn’t Kara’s bed, and they’re not in Lena’s apartment, and that is definitely not their baby… Right?” 

Broken, in pieces, I’ll put you back together by gabs88 ONGOING. Post Invasion where Kara’s trying to get over someone and Lena’s trying to not hurt. Feat: unhealthy coping mech (Note: this doesnt glorify mon-hell)

Far from Native Soil by gveret or the Beauty and the Beast AU that has me convinced I’m a furry now LOL

In Rao’s Light by rileynoah SMUT. Yea this is just pure sin. Enjoy you naughty children. 

The Science Guild (Or How Kara Danvers Became A Nerd Icon) by dreiser I don’t know how I didn’t add this in but holy shit. Kara’s canon genius is actually shown????????

real by cautiouslyoptimistic AU oneshot where Lena is convinced to help Lilian and Lex but she forgets the help part because she’s so in love with Kara

Extra Credit by MinaMauveine AU where Kara is Lena’s professor and she’s pretty sure they’re breaking some kind of rule

Subletly by BroodyJC CRACK/ONESHOT Alternate title: How many lesbian references can the author get into this one fic

The Power of Cuddling by Izzy95 I’m just going to let you find out. Prepare to be surprised. 

brave by cautiouslyoptimistic ONESHOT AU where Lena and Kara were childhood friends and then shit happened and wow angst hi there

Say Something by C_AND_B THE SPEAK NOW TAYLOR SWIFT AU THAT WAS NEEDED AND ADGSDFG

[ahmerjohnny-blog]

Whatsapp Status Love

https://latestquoteswala.com/whatsapp-status-love/

Whatsapp Status Love

Whatsapp Status Love

Today We are Sharing an amazing collection with you about Whatsapp Status Love. Whatsapp is an instant social app for Smartphones like Android and iPhone. Nowadays Everyone Installed Whatsapp app on their smartphones. All of you love to change Whatsapp Status Love on daily basis. Today, We are sharing an awesome collection of Whatsapp Status Love for you. So Check This Beautiful Collection of Whatsapp Status Love And Give us Feedback about Whatsapp Status Love Collection

Whatsapp is the app which was used by the people in the whole world especially Young Generation to share instant messages, photos, Videos and Files with friends and family. Whatsapp is the fantastic app because of Whatsapp Status feature you can share your feelings with your loved ones. That’s why we have arranged the beautiful collection of Whatsapp status Love which is given below.

Whatsapp Status About Love (Whatsapp Status Love)

The overall wide variety of advertisements I watch earlier than online movies is more or less identical to the whole number of advertisements I USED to look at on television.

Being tough is simple. Being susceptible is tough.

Sometimes you could end up dropping your self-looking to hold onto someone who doesn’t care approximately dropping you.

Things you can not recover in lifestyles: the word after its stated, the moment after its ignored, and the TIME after its long gone.

Supply thanks for a touch and you’ll find plenty.

Be formidable to own your errors in lifestyles, receive your faults and improve your character.

A few humans change your life, then leave without rationalization…

Read: Funny Friend Quotes Beautiful Collection

Simply recall, a person loves the whole lot you hate approximately your self.

It is tough to forget a person who gave you a lot to take into account…

Smile and permit all of us to know that nowadays, you’re plenty stronger than you have been the previous day.

Properly instances turn out to be true memories and terrible instances emerge as accurate classes.

You need to be with a person who does not make you compete for their affection and never has you guessing in which you stand with them.

Simply due to the fact I disagree with you on something doesn’t mean I really like or appreciate you any less, you ain’t continually gonna agree with people you meet.

I do no longer like the guy who squanders life for reputation; give me the person who living makes a name.

Do not try and exchange humans, just love them for what they’re.

Every person shows greater love and care at the beginning of any courting, however, no one continues it until the closing.

You couldn’t stay an effective life with poor thoughts.

Love Status Whatsapp (Whatsapp Status Love)

Your smile is actually the cutest aspect I have ever visible.

If you are simply full of love there may be by no means room for hate of any type.

Most effective you may place a smile on my face whilst I am unhappy.

You’re and continually be the only and most effective one.

You can consider no one, You can not even accept as true with this nigga inside the blue blouse, He got a female friend and a boyfriend and an own family.

In some unspecified time in the future, you need to recognize that some humans can stay in your coronary heart but no longer in your life.

Live each day like it is like the final.

Even try anything to do with the character.

Check: Kevin Gates Quotes Huge Collection

Some promises are usually unbroken, some recollections are usually unwritten, feel the magic of authentic relation and you’ll recognize that authentic feelings are usually unspoken…

You deserve to be with a person who does not make you compete for his or her affection and in no way have you guessing where you stand with them

You are accountable for your personal Happiness. in case you expect others to make you happy, possibilities are you may continually become upset.

Just due to the fact I disagree with you on something would not suggest I like or appreciate you any less, you ain’t constantly gonna agree with humans you meet.

Do not try and exchange people, simply love them for what they may be!

True love is when you can’t describe in phrases what you like about him.

True love is not easy however it ought to be fought for due to the fact after you find it, it may by no means be replaced.

Whatsapp Status on Love (Whatsapp Status Love)

Do no longer be dissatisfied in case you pick wrong human beings on occasion, due to the fact without deciding on them you will in no way understand the genuine price of the proper ones.

Everyone says you simplest fall in love as soon as however, it’s not actually because on every occasion I see you, I fall in love all another time.

You’re honestly special to me. you are my actual buddy!

A true loving is a person your beyond. helps your gift. Love you and encourages your future.

Never depart a real relationship for few faults, no one is best no person is accurate and at the quit.

Unmarried and brought are simply titles, Your coronary heart determines your actual dating repute.

Silence is the maximum effective scream.

Read: Baby Boy Quotes Awesome Collection For Mommy And Daddy

If you are in a horrific scenario do not worry it informs change in case you are in an excellent situation do not worry it all alternate.

Life is about making an impact, now not making an income.

Sooner or later your existence will flash before your eyes. make sure it’s really worth looking.

Don’t compare your existence to others, you haven’t any concept what their adventure is ready.

You deserve to be with someone who doesn’t make you compete for his or her affection and in no way have you guessing where you stand with them

Dishonest isn’t an accident. Falling off a motorcycle is a twist of fate. You don’t simply experience and fall into a person’s vagina.

You are liable for your own Happiness. if you count on Others to make you satisfied, possibilities are you’ll continually come to be disappointed.

Why are human beings so adversarial on fame stalker? We’re all right here for the equal reason, to thieve humans’ thoughts and fake they’re our own. We were given something in the commonplace. stop being assholes lol

Dear iTunes and Adobe, would it no longer be more time efficient to simply inform us when you are not updating?

Colors of the leaf modifications with time, same as with humans.

Whilst you need to give up consider why you started.

It is weird how fast “telling the fact” becomes “speaking shit” while a person does something shitty.

The total quantity of classified ads I watch earlier than on-line films is kind of same to the whole wide variety of classified ads I USED to watch on tv.

Precise times end up exact reminiscences and awful instances end up appropriate instructions.

We examine something from absolutely everyone who passes via our lives. some instructions are painful, some are painless… but, all are priceless.

I do now not like the guy who squanders existence for reputation; supply me the person who dwelling makes a call.

Whatsapp Status Love Collection (Whatsapp Status Love)

Love is actual when it comes from the coronary heart, not from the mouth.

It’s real love when any person cares greater about your happiness than their own.

True love doesn’t suggest being inseparable; It manner being separated and not anything adjustments.

The ache by no means depart Us

attention is to drama as oxygen is to fire.

True love isn’t Romeo and Juliet who died together, it is grandma and grandpa who grew old collectively.

Ready is an indication of authentic love and patience. all of us can say I love you however not everybody can wait and show it’s authentic.

Real love is when you are completely devoted to someone even when they’re being absolutely unlovable.

Must Read: I Love You So Much Quotes Best Collection For True Lovers

The arena constantly seems brighter from in the back of a grin.

You may faux a smile, however, you couldn’t fake your emotions.

A smile is a first-rate manner to escape with a problem even supposing it’s a faux one.

Don’t accept as true with too much, don’t love an excessive amount of, don’t care too much due to the fact that ‘too much’ will harm you so much!

So it’s real, while all is said and done, grief is the fee we pay for romance.

Lifestyles is first-rate. demise is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s difficult.

All desirable things should come to an give up, however, all terrible matters can maintain all the time.

I understand my silence and my tears will heal my pain at some point.

Lifestyles isn’t a remember of milestones, but a moment.

Life isn’t a problem to be solved. however, a reality to be experienced.

Take every risk you get in existence, due to the fact some things only manifest once.

Some people want to open their small minds in preference to their massive mouths.

Whatsapp Status of Love Collection (Whatsapp Status Love)

All of it comes down to the final character you observed of at night time. they have got your heart.

Every so often you could come to be losing your self-seeking to keep onto a person who doesn’t care about losing you.

Existence is 10 percent what you are making it, and 90 percent how you’re taking it.

The top-notch pride in existence is doing what people say you cannot do.

The first step to getting the belongings you need out of life is this: determine what you want.

In three phrases I will sum up the entirety I’ve discovered about life: it goes on.

Lifestyles isn’t continually sunshine and butterflies. once in a while to procure to learn to smile through the pain.

Distance is just a take a look at to peer how far True Love can tour.

Read: I Miss You Quotes For Him Updated Collection

The individual that makes you happiest is also the person who can hurt you the maximum.

After all, all of us are testimonies in the long run.

Money can’t purchase happiness, however, it could steal someone else.

Single and dating are just titles. Your coronary heart determines your proper courting repute.

Genuine love is lacking them each second you are far from them, and looking to strangle them each second you are with them.

Dream and in no way prevent dreaming, purpose goals always come actually if you consider 🙂

If causes are needed then what is that means of belief!

In no way go away a true relation for few faults… no person is ideal. no one is correct and at the end. Affection is always greater than perfection.

In case you’re in a horrific state of affairs, do not worry it’ll alternate. if you’re in a good scenario, don’t worry it’s going to alternate.

Love Status For Whatsapp (Whatsapp Status Love)

Hard times are on occasion benefits in disguise. We do need to suffer however, in the long run, it makes us strong, higher and wise.

Authentic love isn’t about being inseparable; it is approximately human beings being proper to every different even when they’re separated.

Love now and again comes like a dream and leaves like a nightmare.

A real buddy is the only who sees your pain in spite of your smile.

Everybody indicates extra love and care within the starting of any relationship, however, nobody maintains it till the closing?

You need to be with someone who does not make you compete for his or her affection and never has you guessing in which you stand with them

You are answerable for your own Happiness. in case you assume others to make you satisfied, probabilities are you’ll usually become disillusioned.

Read: Sad Quotes About Love That Make You Cry

Just because I disagree with you on something would not mean I love or respect you and much less, you ain’t usually gonna accept as true with human beings you meet.

Do not attempt to trade people, just love them for what they are!

Expensive iTunes and Adobe, would it now not be more time efficient to just inform us whilst you aren’t updating?

The total wide variety of classified ads I watch before online videos are roughly equal to the entire number of advertisements I USED to observe on television.

Being difficult is straightforward. Being susceptible is tough.

Every so often you can come to be dropping your self-seeking to preserve onto a person who does not care approximately dropping you.

Terrible selections grow to be good stories.

Three Words you can’t get better in existence: the phrase after its stated, the moment after its overlooked, and the TIME after its gone.

Whatsapp Love Status (Whatsapp Status Love)

Be formidable to own your errors in existence, take delivery of your faults and improve your character.

A few people alternate your existence, then depart without clarification…

Simply don’t forget, a person loves the entirety you hate yourself.

It’s hard to overlook a person who gave you a lot to take into account…

Smile and permit everybody to understand that nowadays, you’re a lot stronger than you were the day past.

Exact instances grow to be properly memories and terrible times become desirable lessons.

You need to be with someone who doesn’t make you compete for his or her affection and by no means have you guessing where you stand with them.

Check Also: Awesome Quotes About Losing Friends That Make You Cry

Just due to the fact I disagree with you on something does not imply I love or appreciate you any much less, you ain’t constantly gonna agree with humans you meet.

I do no longer like the guy who squanders lifestyles for reputation; supply me the man who residing makes a call.

Don’t attempt to exchange humans, simply love them for what they’re.

All and sundry suggests extra love and care within the starting of any relationship, however, no person maintains it until the last.

You may stay a wonderful lifestyle with a poor mind.

Life isn’t always a hassle to be solved. but a reality to be experienced.

Lifestyles is set making an effect, not making a profit.

Take each chance you get in life, due to the fact a few things simplest show up as soon as.

Someday your existence will flash before your eyes. make sure it’s really worth watching.

The individual that makes you happiest is also the individual that can harm you the maximum.

Some humans want to open their small minds in preference to their massive mouths.

Whatsapp Love Status Collection (Whatsapp Status Love)

Don’t examine your existence to others, you have no concept what their adventure is set.

You need to be with someone who doesn’t make you compete for their affection and never has you guessing where you stand with them

Dishonest isn’t a twist of fate. Falling off a bike is a coincidence. You don’t just experience and fall into a person’s vagina.

You are responsible for your personal Happiness. if you assume Others to make you happy, probabilities are you’ll always end up dissatisfied.

Why are human beings so opposed to status stalker? We’re all here for the same purpose, to steal people’s ideas and fake they’re our own. We were given something in common. stop being assholes lol

Pricey iTunes and Adobe, would it not now not be extra time green to simply tell us whilst you aren’t updating?

Check: Im Sorry Quotes Beautiful Collection For Your Loved Ones

Colours of the leaf adjustments with time, equal are with humans.

While you need to give up bear in mind why you commenced.

It is weird how rapid “telling the reality” becomes “speak me shit” while a person does something shitty.

The entire variety of advertisements I watch earlier than online videos is roughly same to the total variety of commercials I USED to observe on television.

Right times emerge as excellent memories and horrific instances grow to be accurate classes.

We analyze something from anybody who passes thru our lives. some training is painful, some are painless… but, all are valuable.

Every time you texts me my cheeks hurt! I guess I smile too big.

Every moment I spent with you.. is like beautiful dream come true.

Happiness is falling asleep next to you and waking up thinking I’m still in my dreams.

Related Posts

Brother And Sister Quotes, Sayings And Wishes With Images

Weekend Quotes Amazing Collection With Images

Happy Birthday Mom Quotes, Sayings, Wishes, And Messages With Images

Cute Good Night Quotes, Sayings, Wishes, And Messages With Images

Sad Quotes About Life Best Collection For You

#Cards #Card #Sports #Jersey #Deals #city #relax #boy #night #streetstyle #light #findhappy #sadness #luckyme #partyhard #longway #admin #meme #quote #quotes

[yozokai]

i don't like isekai, it's just not my thing but then i see this

did you catch that?

(tbh i dont even remember if i ever said how much i love dazai in here, its in the fucking name of the blog)

and also

this dazai's a levi looking motherfucker

and one more

he's gonna SOUND like levi too wtf guess i gotta watch a isekai now