#and none of the answers reflected his status of 'was in a 3 year relationship is now single'

[ryuuseini]

I'll be honest: sometimes I take those "is your MC a Mary Sue" quizzes, not because I buy into the belief that a Mary Sue is a real thing, but because I want to see how absolutely baffled these tests are when I show up with my 29 year old OC who is arguably very conventionally attractive at the cost of his sanity. But I've noticed as I try to answer yhe questions of these tests - some of which are old and only exist as an archive (the Mary Sue Litmus Test, for example) and some of which that are pretty damn recent - is that some questions are Literally Impossible to Answer.

And look, I get it, you can't account for everyone’s OCs because that's impossible. However, a trend I've noticed is... Every question that revolves around how your OC is seen by others is phrased as if the "other characters" are a monolith.

Let me explain. So I come in with my OC, who I'll refer to as Kaz from now on ('cause that's his name), and come across the question of "how do others view him?" I get the choices of "love him, hate him, neutral, likes him" (for example.) How do I answer this question? No legitimately - how do I answer this question? Because there are two characters who absolutely love him in a found family like way, four characters that hate him, three that like him (and out of those three, one is "likes him enough to put up with him"), and one who has an "its complicated" relationship but ultimately would end up in the "likes" category. So, doing our math, that's:

2 people who love him (and not even in the way we're assuming the question is asking)

4 people who hate him

4 people who like him (with an added caveat that half of them have some sort of disdain towards Kaz)

And like. What do I do here? Because it's an even split, among the named characters at least, between "hate" and "like". And because of how binary these results are, they will heavily screw if your OC is perceived as a "Mary Sue" (which, doesn't exist, but given how often the term comes up to this day, I can see young creators hoping their OCs don't fit into this box).

And sure, you can argue with me "well its just a quiz you're not supposed to take it seriously" and true, you're right, it is just a quiz. But it doesn't represent how much of a sliding scale OC development really is. And that's my major problem.

Character development is a sliding scale. Not everyone will love your OC and in that same breath, not everyone will hate them either. Back to Kaz as an example - he's got an ex-boyfriend (named Reiji) and a girl he has a platonic crush on (named Remi). Kaz and his ex are on bad terms and its justified because they both hurt each other! Meanwhile when Remi first meets Kaz she thinks he's cute (but then kinda... takes it back because of the way Kaz responded to that but she does try to move past that because sometimes first impressions are impossible to judge people on) and then still ends up liking him as a friend. And the reason I bring these two up is because Reiji and Remi are childhood friends! So Reiji vents to Remi about Kaz and Remi goes "oh okay" and adjusts her perception of Kaz to be far more nuanced than what she had understood with their first two interactions, while when Remi talks to Reiji about Kaz he uses it to adjust his perception of Kaz to fall more into the disdain category.

So it's like!! Your OC is gonna be perceived in so many ways by your cast (and the surrounding background characters too!!) that putting them into a box isn't going to help! So like. Please don't take those tests as a way to see where to "fix" your character because they will never account for your whole story. You could have a queen ruling a nation and everyone loves her and people who speak out against her are seen as unreasonable. Would that make her a Mary Sue? Like. Genuine question here. Because I think not, but that is a question on multiple Mary Sue tests.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

[ssa-steverogers]

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count ╏ 2.4k

summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status; inspired by two ghosts by harry styles

warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x

note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3

I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.

The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.

Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.

“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“

“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.

“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.

Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.

“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.

“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.

Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.

The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.

No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.

All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.

today 7:40

y/n: hey aaron are you still at the office?

love: Yes, is there something going on?

y/n: aaron

love: Yes?

y/n: oh you forgot, didn’t you?

love: Forgot?

y/n: aaron, it’s our anniversary?

read 7:46

I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.

That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.

He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.

I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.

“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”

“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.

“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”

Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.

“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.

“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”

“You were just distant lately and-“

“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“

“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.

I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.

“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”

“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.

And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They’re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.

I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now and we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 5: Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

AO3 Link

I got this one out QUICK because I'm moving this week and packing is taking up 94% of my brainpower but!! It's out on time!! If I ever have to delay a chapter, I’ll post an update here on my blog. Also, I don’t usually do taglists, but I have had a few people ask - so if you want to be added to a taglist for new chapters, just shoot me a message! I love you all so much, thank you for the continued support and comments!!! <3

Summary:  You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 5, Thai Food and Realizations

Chapter Summary: You decide to talk to Hotch after the Matthews incident, and wind up discovering a lot more about both of you than you bargained for.

Words: 2616

Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You weren’t prepared with the immense boredom that came with actually having free time.

The rest of the team had closed the case and flown back (at least you assumed they had; you hadn’t checked), and Hotch had texted you not to bother coming back in until they got a new assignment. You were grateful for the courtesy - a little time to decompress after almost being murdered was nice - but after months of having almost no life outside of the internship, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself.

By the time day four rolled around, you had caught up on the reading you’d been meaning to get to, deep cleaned twice, tried and failed to get into running, and sought out at least a dozen other forms of mindless entertainment. You tried not to think about the fact that this would be the perfect time to catch up with friends if you actually had any, but your college and post-college life spent studying like a madwoman to land a position with the BAU hadn’t exactly lent itself to a healthy social life. There were acquaintances, of course, people you’d spent time with, college boys you’d dated briefly, but none of them had ever lasted. Gotten close.

None of them had ever killed a man for you.

That was the core of it, right? The reason you couldn’t get him out of your head? He’d only known you for a few months, not like the rest of his team that he’d dedicated years to, and yet he didn’t hesitate to end someone’s life in brutal fashion to save yours. You were grateful, of course, given the alternative, but a part of you felt bad. Given his history, he was already encumbered with enough trauma - the last thing he’d needed was another death on his conscience.

That was his decision to make.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Or tried to. But after four days of the guilt eating at you and failing to distract yourself from it, that thought stopped being reassuring. That evening, after a couple glasses of wine, you finally worked up the courage to acknowledge the idea that had been tossing around in the periphery of your mind for a while.

Committing to action before you convinced yourself this was a dumb idea - and it was, of course, but the slight buzz and four days of isolation said otherwise - you called in an order to the Thai place down the street and heaved yourself off the couch. You tried not to care about how you looked, but changed your outfit an embarrassing number of times before you got the text that your order was ready.

When you first started at the BAU, Garcia had sent you a directory of all the team members’ information. You remembered asking her why their home addresses were on the list - that’s kind of unnecessary, isn’t that, like, personal?  you’d said - and you remembered the sad look she’d given you by way of an answer. Turns out the job had followed them all home at one point or another, usually in a way that required rescuing. As you checked the directory for Hotch’s address, you considered that this information was probably only intended to be used if you needed to save him from an unhinged serial killer breaking into his home, but you figured “thanking your boss for snapping a man’s neck to save your life” was a satisfactory enough purpose.

Turns out, Hotch lived in an apartment only a few blocks away from yours. After picking up the takeout order, you started to make the trek. The closer you got, however, the more your confidence started to waver, and not just because you started to realize how weird you were about to look. Even in the dimming light of the evening, you could tell from the building facades that you were entering a much more well-to-do part of downtown. The storefronts and restaurants occupying the bottom floor of brick condos looked more high-class, the cars parked along the sidewalk more expensive and well-maintained. It made sense given his status in the FBI that Hotch could afford to live in an area like this, but still, you hadn’t imagined it. You hadn’t imagined him living outside of work at all, actually - like an elementary school teacher, it was strange to think that he had a life outside of his job.

You stopped outside of the address on your cell phone, a greystone, ivy-covered apartment building. The doorman saw you pause at the threshold and opened the door from the inside.

“Visiting, I assume?” he asked, as you stepped inside.

Still in shock at the fact that you were in the sort of area that had doormen, you nodded. “Um, yes, Agent Hotchner? I mean, Aaron Hotchner? I work with him. For him, actually. He doesn’t know I’m coming.”

The doorman gracefully ignored your verbal fumbling. “Do you have a badge?”

It made sense that Hotch would use that as a barrier to entry. Smart. You nodded again and produced it from your bag. He waved you on to the stairwell, where you made the climb to the fourth and topmost floor.

You stuttered to a stop outside his door at the very end of the hall. Suddenly overcome with nerves, you took a mental stock of yourself: slightly winded from the four-floor climb, dressed in an oversized sweater and leggings, hair less-than-artfully windswept, hands slightly shaking with adrenaline, clutching a bag of takeout. Not the image you wanted to present to your boss.

God, this was such a fucking stupid idea.

You started to turn away, intending to leave the way you came, when the door in front of you flew open. You yelped, dropping the bag, and turned back to see Hotch standing in the doorway. He was in his work pants, still, but a plain black t-shirt replaced his usual button-up. His left hand was on the half-open door, right hand behind his back, no doubt holding his gun. You put your hands up sheepishly in surrender.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Sorry. I just wanted to-”

“What are you doing here?” he interrupted, eyebrows screwed up in confusion.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, um, thank you. For saving me, the other day. I brought you dinner.”

He continued to look at you like you’d just grown two heads.

You leaned down and picked up the bag of food, holding it out towards him lamely. He looked down at it and finally seemed to relax, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get many- I wasn’t expecting a visitor. Please, come in.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that he might invite you in, but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to see Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You stepped in, and he replaced the gun he was holding back in a drawer by the entryway, locking the door behind you. You were suddenly overcome with sorrow, knowing his life had progressed in such a way that hearing footsteps outside his door was a cause for alarm.

The apartment was nearly as intimidating as the man himself. Tall, industrial ceilings loomed over the open, warehouse-style floorplan, populated by neutral furnishings. An exposed brick wall on the left housed a stainless-steel kitchen, while a king-sized bed on the far right wall was placed near the only closed portion of the space, which you guessed was the bathroom. The windows were numerous - multi-paned and massive, but curtains were drawn over most of them. It was all a reflection of Hotch - impressive and somewhat cold.

There was a single photo, from what you could see, in the entire apartment - a small frame on the otherwise file-covered coffee table between the couch and flatscreen. It was a photo of Hotch, a woman, and a young child. You found yourself drawn towards it, as Hotch took the bag from you to set it on the kitchen island, and you walked over to pick it up. He was smiling in the photo - a genuine smile, not the tight-lipped imitations you caught a few times at the office - and the sight filled you with emotion. Who was he before you met him? A father, a husband, of course, but what was he like?  Did he laugh at Prentiss and Morgan’s off-color jokes instead of chiding them, did he go out to social gatherings with the team? Did he spare emotion when speaking to a victim’s family, as he so rarely did now? Would he have broken a man’s neck without thought like he did to Matthews?

“You’ll stay for dinner?”

You quickly set the frame back down.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, I just wanted to thank you. I’ve been thinking about it the last few days and I just feel… bad. I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why would you feel bad?”

You hesitated, trying to avoid the truth - that he didn’t need another body on his conscience. He waited for an answer, and when he didn't receive one, he stepped closer and scanned your face. "What aren't you telling me?"

You weren't keeping anything from him, not really, you just didn't want it to sound like you were calling his mental state into question like you did at the hotel. It didn't matter though, because he had apparently pulled the answer from your expression already.

“You think I’m damaged. And that killing Matthews somehow added to that.”

There was no point in even attempting to lie to him, so you stayed silent.

Hotch sighed and pulled out a seat at the kitchen island. You took it and watched him distribute the takeout containers between the two of you, noticing that despite insisting you weren’t intending to stay for dinner, you’d ordered plenty of food for two people.

Profiling yourself is the worst.

“When Haley and I were married,” Hotch began, picking at his curry, “I took her for granted. I spent more late nights at work than I can count, and I always assumed she would be there when I got home. She was, at first, and then she wasn’t.”

You nodded, afraid to speak, trying not to disturb the moment you’d somehow stumbled upon.

“She had an affair. I never confronted her about it, but I knew. I didn’t hate her for it, but when she asked for a divorce, I let her go without a fight. I wanted the best chance to keep Jack in my life and I didn’t want things to get ugly between us. It worked - I got to see Jack; we were amicable.”

He paused before continuing, “They were killed a few years later by George Foyet. We mismanaged that case. He was ahead of us the entire time; we couldn’t catch up. When we finally caught him, after Haley and Jack-” His voice finally broke, and he set down his fork, staring at the counter.

“He surrendered. I didn't care.”

“You beat him to death,” you whispered. You’d looked up the case file, after JJ had told you what happened.

He nodded, seemingly unsurprised you were familiar with the details. “I was never charged, hardly investigated. No one blamed me. I took some time off, and I came back. I thought about going back to law, but I didn’t.”

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze. “Why didn’t I?”

You blinked away the tears that were forming, confused.”I-I’m sorry?”

“Why didn’t I go back to law? Leave the BAU? You should know the answer.”

“Are you asking me to profile you?”

He nodded in confirmation. “You’re not going to offend me, don’t worry.”

Hotch was the last person you wanted to profile, especially to his face, but you knew better than to try to refuse.

“You... wanted a sense of purpose. If you could keep the same thing from happening to other people, it would make up for what happened to your family,” you responded quietly. It was an easy answer, but it still felt wrong to put Hotch on display like that, especially after he’d already revealed more to you than you’d ever seen him do with anyone.

“Correct,” he said, without a hint of the bitterness you’d have expected to accompany that statement.

“And did it? Help, I mean?”

He studied your face, as if trying to decide whether to grant you the answer. You were suddenly aware of the strangeness of the situation - sitting feet away from your boss in his own apartment talking about the darkest moments of his life. This was insight you doubted he’d ever given before, and as you glanced over his mussed hair, the black t-shirt, caught a whiff of his cologne, you tried not to think about the implications of that statement.

Clearing his throat and raising his eyebrows, he turned back to his food. “It did. It does, most of the time. The rest of the team has been exceptionally understanding, perhaps more so than I deserve.”

“You deserve everything they can give you,” you said with a small smile. “From what they’ve told me, you’ve done the same for each of them several times over.”

“It’s my job,” Hotch said, but you could tell he softened at hearing how his team regarded him.

You both went back to your food, finishing the meal in relative silence - the kind that was comfortable, where you both knew that everything that needed to be said for now, had been. At least, the silence probably felt comfortable to him. Your mind was in overdrive.

Everything Hotch had said and done the last few months that had caused you to falter - the way he shook your hand when you first signed onto the BAU internship, the innocuous moments of praise, that goddamn tie - they were circling your mind like a vulture waiting for the kill. You had tried to brush those moments off, but hearing him open up like this, bare his soul, was too much. It was the next look you stole, watching him eat in quiet contemplation, faint remnants of the blush from the compliment you paid him still gracing his cheeks, that did you in.

You were pretty sure you were in love with Aaron Hotchner.

You were so, so unbelievably fucked.

____________

When Hotch bid you goodbye that night, after you helped clean up his kitchen (which allowing you to do had been a debate in itself), you had the brief, stupid thought that you should just be honest with him. How long, truly, were you going to be able to hide the fact that you were infatuated with your boss? Especially when your boss was in the business of reading people like books?

That idea went out the window, however, when he leaned against the doorway with his signature half-smile and said, “Thank you for everything tonight. I’m glad you’re on the team,” because you know where you wouldn't be, if you confessed your sudden realization? On the team. Hotch made it clear when he hired you, and every day since, that clear judgement was paramount to the team's success. There was no way he'd trust you to be unbiased in a situation that required it if he knew how you felt. And this position was too much to think about giving up, not after the years of studying and social isolation that allowed you to make the cut.

So, you can do this, you decided. You can lie to Aaron Hotchner.

Right?

[feferipeixes]

The Good Lines (1/3)

Trapped in an unfamiliar world, Alcor finds that he doesn’t mind the loneliness. He doesn’t care about finding a way out. He doesn’t even care about Mizar. All he cares about is solving puzzles, and drawing the good lines.

(or: I Think Dipper Should Play The Witness)

Chapter 1: Tutorial (link to chapter 2) (3)

I promised this a year ago and it’s finally happening! No knowledge about The Witness necessary -- this is basically a TAU fic. Thanks @toothpastecanyon for beta reading it!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

One of the first signs that something was wrong was the silence.

Alcor didn't know when it had happened, but at some point he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard a living thing. Sure, he could hear the grass crunch beneath his shoes, and the babble of the river cascading down the mountainside. When the silence got to be too much, he’d listen to those things as closely as he could.

He never heard a cicada screech, though, never heard a squirrel chitter, never heard a wolf howl. One time, he wandered through the forest and was assaulted by the chirping of birds, but when he looked closer he noticed that there were speakers hidden in the trees. That confused him even more, because who decided a forest needed assistance in creating an ambiance? Would the speakers switch from birds to crickets when it got dark out?

The next thing he noticed was that it never got dark out either.

Another strange thing: his magic wasn't working. He walked upon the ground instead of floating above it. He saw the physical shape of things instead of the shape of the ideas they embodied. And his hand didn't alight in flame when he snapped his fingers. He was still a demon -- he could see it in the pitch black reflection of his eyes when he looked in the ocean -- but it seemed less relevant right now. Which was without a doubt extremely odd.

However curious these things were though, he didn't have much of a chance to dwell on them. He was too busy drawing the good lines.

The panels were everywhere on the island. They were all sorts of materials -- some made of metal with a plastic border, some made of glass so he could see the scenery as he drew, and some were just embedded into the concrete he walked on. Many of them were connected with thick wires. They all had a grid of some sort on them, sometimes containing fanciful shapes and dots. All had one or more bulbous circles somewhere on the grid, as well as one or more rounded off ends. Some of them were pretty to look at, but he knew they weren't just for show. They were puzzles.

He couldn't remember when he'd discovered it. Maybe someone had told him (who? He was all alone). Maybe there were instructions on one of the panels (but he'd never seen any text on the island). Or maybe it was just instinct that led him to reach out and touch a panel, right on one of the large circles. It made a little popping noise, letting him know this was okay to do, and to keep going. So he dragged his claw across the grid, and as he did so, he drew a line. It was simple, it was effortless, it was satisfying. He drew the line around intersections in the grid to one of the rounded off bits and lifted his finger. The panel flashed angrily and highlighted some of the symbols on the grid.

Oh no. That was a Bad Line.

Frowning, he tried again; touching the circle, dragging his claw through the grid in a different pattern this time, and letting go at an end. The panel made a squeaky little beep, and the wire leading out of it lit up.

Alcor smiled. That was a Good Line.

---

There was a mountain at one end of the island. Well, it looked like a mountain, and the climate at the top was dramatically different from that at the bottom, but there was no way it was tall enough to really be considered a mountain. It only took a few minutes for Alcor to follow the path to the top, and he wasn’t even using any kind of demonic superspeed.

The summit was covered in weird stuff, but at this point Alcor would’ve been surprised if such a significant-looking location on this weird island wasn’t covered in weird stuff. Still, he wouldn’t have guessed that it would be covered in random statues of humans. There was an old man speaking at a podium, a figure in a trenchcoat using a camera on a tripod, a librarian gesturing angrily, and so on.

There were two statues at the center under three parabolic arches. One was a young man with a strange ladle-shaped mark etched onto his forehead, struggling to carry a large yellow box covered in images of eyes and which had a thick cable coming out of it. The other was a young woman in a sweater, holding the box’s cable taut and seemingly trying to pull the first statue back. All of the statues seemed vaguely familiar -- especially the two in the middle -- but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He eventually decided it was just because humans all look the same.

There was another thing he found while observing the statues: a tape recorder, sitting on a rock near the statue with the tripod. It looked positively archaic in design, and only had one button on it. When he pressed the button, the voice that came out was so clear that it was almost as if the words were being transmitted directly into his brain.

“Up there you go around every hour and a half, time after time after time.”

He frowned at the odd device and cocked his head. It was nice to hear a voice for the first time in what seemed like forever, but he had no idea what it was talking about. He pressed the button again to no effect. The voice just kept talking.

“And you realize that in one glance that what you’re seeing is what was the whole history of man for years.”

Whatever. He decided to ignore it and take in the lovely view instead. He could see almost the whole island from up there, from the desert to the quarry to the forest to the swamp. There was something stunning about the diversity of landscape he could see from one spot. And yet, it wasn’t quite the beauty of the sights before him that made him marvel. It was the thought of all of the unsolved puzzles he was yet to find.

“You finally come up across the coast of California and look for those friendly things.”

There only seemed to be one panel at the mountain’s summit, and it was hardly a puzzle -- just a single zigzagging line. Quick as a whistle, he tapped the starting node, dragged his finger up, and released. It made all of the same sounds the other panels did, but it was kind of disappointing. There was no challenge in it, nothing to occupy his mind or give him a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t a Good Line or a Bad Line, it was just… a line.

Huh.

“And you do it again and again and again. You look forward to that, you anticipate it. And there it is. That whole process begins to shift of what it is you identify with.”

He set off down the mountain again, and headed toward the greenhouse he’d noticed on his way up. Just as he expected, it was full of puzzles. Surrounded by colorful flowers, he stared at a panel and thought, and thought, and thought.

Hours passed. He solved two more.

“You look down there and you can’t imagine how many borders and boundaries you crossed again and again and again. And you don’t even see ‘em. All of history and music and poetry and art and war and death and birth and love, tears, joy, games, all of it is on that little spot out there that you can cover with your thumb.”

Alcor bounced between areas on the island when he got stuck, always breezing past the scenery without a second glance because there were more important things to attend to. Across the island and toward the desert. Across the island to climb through a treehouse. Across the island to get lost in a boat. He waited for it to blur together but it never did.

“And you realize with that perspective that you’ve changed. That there’s something new there. That relationship is no longer what it was.”

It was peculiar, if he did let himself think about it. He didn’t want to -- didn’t want to give the voice that kind of victory -- but in between panels he sometimes needed a little break and there were only a limited number of things to put his attention to in this place. So, occasionally, he let himself wonder why he was alone.

This was not an unfamiliar question for him. He could come up with a million reasons for it right off the top of his head. He was immortal, so maybe everyone else in the universe was just dead. He was a monster, so maybe everyone else in the universe was just scared of him. He was a dream demon, so maybe he was just buried so deep in the Mindscape that he couldn’t find his way out.

Somehow, none of those reasons felt like the truth. If they were, he’d probably be sadder.

“And you think about what you’re experiencing and why. Do you deserve this? This fantastic experience? Have you earned this in some way? Are you separated out to be touched by God to have some special experience here that other men cannot have? You know the answer to that is No. There’s nothing that you’ve done that deserves that, that earned that.”

Besides, there wasn’t anything to be sad about, if he really really thought about it over and over again until words lost all meaning. He was Alcor the Dreambender, after all! He was the most powerful entity in the universe. Feared like a demon by the masses, revered like a deity by the foolish. All because he’d had the great fortune to rid the world of a villainous creature of destructive chaos.

He did deserve it. He was special. He spent a day lying face up on a rooftop in the town, thinking these things to himself on loop.

“When you come back, there’s a difference in that world now, there’s a difference in that relationship between you and that planet, and you and all those other forms of life on that planet, because you’ve had that kind of experience.”

Past the town there was a little peninsula with some sort of old building on it. Alcor made his way over, but when he got there he was dismayed to find not a single puzzle in sight. There was, however, a statue of a man kneeling on the floor. Alcor jumped when he saw it out of the corner of his eye, reaching for him with a crazed look on its face, but relaxed when he realized it wasn’t alive.

It was an odd sight, to be sure. Alcor followed its gaze to a glass shelf behind him, on which sat a chalice of some sort. He reached up to grab it -- almost knocking the shelf over as he did -- and cautiously stuck his tongue in.

Whatever was in the cup, he thought as he walked away from the building, it was delicious.

“And all through this I’ve used the word ‘you’ because it’s not me, it’s you. It’s us. It’s we. It’s life. And it’s not just my problem to integrate, it’s not my challenge to integrate, my joy to integrate -- it’s yours, it’s everybody’s.”

There was a long pause, and Alcor thought the recording might finally be over. He took a sip of his drink and smiled. Back to thinking about the current puzzle. It was a tough one -- three different colors of symbols on it -- and he was glad that the voice wasn’t distracting him from it anymore.

And then:

”Please come back, Dipper.”

Alcor did a spit take at the sound of his true name. The panel he was working on made a sizzling noise and deactivated.

“Did that work? Can you hear me?”

He shot to his feet and looked around in all directions. No one. He was still as alone as ever.

“You’re not responding so I don’t know if what you’re doing is just a coincidence.”

“What? Hello?” he yelled.

“Oh, thank the stars, it worked! Dipper you have to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about?” he sputtered. “Who are you?”

There was the sound of a deep breath, inexplicably broadcast from the sky. “I’m your sister, S- I mean, uh. Mizar. I’m Mizar.”

Alcor’s eyes widened. “Mizar?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to contact you for so long. I can’t believe it finally worked.”

“I don’t understand. What finally worked?”

“You need to listen to me. This isn’t the real world. You’re in a virtual reality game.”

“I’m what?” Alcor said. He backed up, accidentally leading himself to the edge of the platform he was standing on, but instead of falling off, his back hit a wall. He spun around to see what had happened, but there was nothing there. “Mizar? I’m- I’m so confused.”

Mizar sighed. “I told you. None of this is real. It’s a computer program. Haven’t you noticed that things aren’t quite right?”

“Well, yeah,” Alcor replied. He flapped his wings, but stayed firmly glued to the ground. “My demon powers don’t work. Honestly though that’s fine with me. I’m just having fun drawing the good lines.”

“The what?” Mizar demanded, incredulous.

“The good lines!” Alcor squeaked, and waved at the puzzles behind him. “I don’t know what they’re for or what they do, but I’ve been so busy solving all these puzzles that I’ve barely thought about… why… things are… off…”

He trailed off, and Mizar sniffed.

“That’s the point. They’re there to keep you occupied.”

Alcor frowned. “Why though? Who’d go to so much effort to make all of this for me?”

There was no response.

---

Alcor continued to solve puzzles. He didn’t know why Mizar’s voice had stopped, but he was glad it had -- she was the true distraction, not the puzzles. And yet every once in a while, he’d be staring at a particularly difficult panel with one of those Y-shaped symbols on it that made no sense to him, and his mind would begin to wander.

And when it did, he’d notice another one of those tape recorders nearby. There were a lot of them on the island, and they all had boring quotes from philosophers or whatever on them. But then Mizar’s voice would cut in, with a note of glee like she’d thought he’d never speak to her again. Every time she sounded more and more desperate for him to leave. And every time it made him feel more and more frustrated.

“Okay, so,” Alcor said as Mizar's voice faded in for the 20th or so time, “you said last time you might’ve figured out who made this island.” He didn't look up or take his finger off the panel in front of him.

There was a rustling noise, and then a loud pop. “Sorry, had to plug in my headphones. That’s right, though. I’ve done some more research since then and I’m sure of it now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“It was an advanced artificial intelligence,” Mizar replied. “I think you might be familiar with it. It’s called ‘the Alcor Virus’.”

“Oh.” Alcor paused for a moment. “Yeah, I wrote him to mess with fanfic writers. Why do you think he made the island?”

“I don’t think,” Mizar said. “It definitely did. There’s traces of it all over the computer network in this building.”

“There’s traces of him all over every device with a processor in the whole world,” Alcor countered. “He’s a really good virus. I’m very proud of him.”

Mizar groaned. “I also found its executable embedded in the binary for this game. Also a few summoning circles, and a big ASCII art picture of it giving me the middle finger.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he conceded. “Why, though?”

“How should I know?” Mizar said, with more than a note of irritation in her voice. “I’m not a psychologist and I’m definitely not a computer scientist. Also why does it matter ‘why’ it’s doing this? Isn’t it time to get out of there already? I’ve already asked you like a million times!”

“No!” Alcor exclaimed, throwing his hands up. He walked out of the structure he’d been standing in and headed toward an area with some shady trees in which he’d noticed puzzles he hadn’t solved yet. “I like it here. It’s fun for me. And I deserve a vacation from all the people who bother me all the time. Why would I leave?”

“Because you can’t just run away from your problems!” Mizar shot back. “You think this is healthy? Literally living in a virtual reality world so you don’t have to talk to anyone anymore? How do you think I feel?”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Horrible! I thought you cared about me, Dipper, but all you care about are those stupid puzzles! Stars, sometimes you act like such a demon!”

Alcor frowned. “You know that I -”

“Yes, I get it, you ARE a demon and you can’t help it that you’re a selfish piece of shit. I GET it. Is this how it’s really going to end? You’re just going to turn me down after I’ve spent all this time trying to get you out?”

Alcor’s ears turned red as he felt Mizar’s furious, extraplanar glare land on him. “It really means that much to you that I leave?”

He heard Mizar smack herself in the face. “Yes, yes, a hundred times yes! It kills me that you’re not in my life anymore! You probably thought I could get along just fine without you and no one would be affected by you staying forever on your fantasy puzzle island vacation, huh? Why do you think I keep asking you? I’m starting to get sick of it!”

Alcor felt every muscle in his body tense up at that. He squeezed his eyes shut as Mizar continued to shout, tried to fend off the words violently striking at his ego, and only opened them again when she cut off mid-word. The light on the tape recorder had turned off.

He tried to let himself relax again but he couldn’t. It felt like his chest had become a black hole and it was taking all he had not to shrink up into a tiny little dot and vanish. He hated being yelled at. Hated it.

Maybe Mizar was right, though. Maybe he was just being a selfish jerk. He'd done it before. Countless times, to countless Mizars, his self-serving actions had caused harm to mortals and it was always his fault because he couldn't put himself in their shoes. Maybe he was a monster after all. It was just like a monster to have wants and needs that inevitably end up hurting people.

Alcor exhaled, long and heavy, and pressed the button on the tape again. When the pre-recorded message ended and Mizar’s shouts returned, he interrupted her.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

[ambssssssssss]

Family You Choose

Power Rangers AU Part 3

After the confrontation with Coulson and the Mega-Puttie, Daisy reflects on friends and family. 

Also on AO3

The ship Rec Room was startlingly silent for having all 6 Rangers within it, sitting on the couches placed in the room. They had left the clearing quickly after Coulson arrived, barely giving an answer to his request to speak with them. Daisy hadn’t said a word since they got back to the ship, hadn’t made a joke or traded snarky jabs with Trini. She and Jemma were the only ones who hadn’t had to go make excuses to their families so they could have a real Ranger meeting. Part of Daisy regretted that the attack had interrupted date night for the whole team but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on just that, not after that encounter with Coulson. 

Daisy wasn’t a stranger to disappointment or feeling like the rug had been pulled out from underneath her, she did grow up in the foster system after all, but she had thought-hoped- that that part of her life was behind her. She was just settling in to her new normal, not just being a Power Ranger, but having a family. Having parents who actually cared about her, who asked about her day at school and made sure she had enough to eat and celebrated when she finally earned her black belt. 

A family that suddenly felt like a lie. 

“Hey,” Jemma’s voice was soft in Daisy’s ear, same for the hand on her shoulder. Daisy turned her head towards her girlfriend. “Are you sure you’re up for this? It can wait.” 

“No,” Daisy shook her head, looking at the destroyed power coin laying on the table, “we need to figure this out. I can deal with my...family stuff later.” 

“You don’t have to make light of this Daisy,” Jemma told her softly, reaching for Daisy’s hand and squeezing her fingers. “Not with the others and especially not with me.” 

“I know Jem,” Daisy threaded their fingers together. “Just - I can’t right now.” 

“Okay,” Jemma leaned forward to press a kiss to Daisy’s cheek. Daisy let her lips pull into a small smile as she and Jemma stood up together. 

Juliana looked up from where she was examining the small cut along Valentina’s hairline, courtesy of the battle they had just fought. Juliana caught Daisy’s eye and raised one eyebrow in question. Daisy nodded once, glancing to where Jemma stood to her right. Juliana offered her an understanding smile as she returned the nod. 

“Alright,” Juliana said, brushing Valentina’s hair behind her ear before turning to the group. “Let’s go see what Zordon has to say about this.” Juliana picked up the broken green power coin with one hand and led the group of tired Rangers from the Rec Room, down the hall and into the Command Center. Alpha-5 and Zordon were both already present in the room, waiting for the Rangers. 

“You were successful,” Zordon noted as the Rangers took what was becoming their customary seats on the stairs. “Our scans no longer pick up any Puttie activity.” 

“Yeah, they’re all dusted now,” Trini said. “But what about Rita?” 

“With the loss and destruction of the Green Power Coin,” Zordon began solemnly, like he mourned for the lost power, “Rita will be substantially weakened but not completely powerless. It is likely she will return at some point.” 

“For the crystal?” Kim asked, feeling something in the back of her mind that had her reaching for Trini and settling a hand on the small of her back. She thought it was her Ranger sense, but none of the others seemed to have felt it. Trini’s tensed muscles relaxed slightly. 

“Yes, but also for the Coin,” Zordon’s face moved along the wall until he was near the port around the Morphing Grid. “Rita has been cut off from an almost limitless source of power and will stop at nothing to gain that connection back.” 

The energy from the grid was moving, an image of Rita Repulsa as she had been before their battle, covered in green armor and her skin dotted with flecks of gold. 

“Rita had access to this power for many years before my time as Ranger, her mastery is unparalleled,” the grid continued to change as Zordon spoke, images of Rita as a mighty warrior appearing and disappearing in a display that might have been beautiful once but now only served to amplify Rita’s terrifying power. “The power of being Ranger combined with Rita’s innate magical abilities drove her mad and made her more dangerous.” 

“And the only thing more dangerous than someone who has power,” Juliana spoke lowly, “Is someone who has lost power and will do anything to get it back.” 

“Yes, exactly,” Zordon seemed sad as he continued and the Rangers wondered, not for the first time, what exactly happened between Zordon and Rita all those years ago. “Rita will bide her time for now to gather her strength, but it is only a matter of time before she comes back.” 

“Great,” Trini muttered under her breath, touching the faint scars on her neck from Rita’s claws. Kim’s hand moved along her back, wrapping around Trini’s hip and pulling her close. Trini let her head fall onto Kim’s shoulder. 

“So, what do we do in the meantime?” Daisy asked. “I mean, I know we’ll keep training and watching over Angel Grove and all that but…” 

“But Shield could be a problem,” Juliana took over where Daisy had trailed off, nodding her head just the slightest bit to acknowledge the grateful look Jemma sent her way. “If they’ve been monitoring Angel Grove for a while like Agent Coulson said, they could already know more about us than we want them to.” 

“Human government organizations have really no control over the Power Rangers,” Alpha said happily. “Even if they know you exist, they have no connection to the Morphing Grid and no way of matching the power you six have.” 

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t a threat,” Kimberly said to the helpful robot. “If they figure out who we are when we’re not morphed, they could do any number of things to make us do what they want.” 

There was a heavy pause where Daisy wanted to say that they wouldn’t do that, that her father wouldn’t do that but the words won’t come out. She didn’t think that Phil had ever lied to her before, but now everything was different. There was too much up in the air, too much that Daisy thought she knew but wasn’t sure about now. Jemma’s hand slipped into Daisy’s own and squeezed gently. It didn’t make everything better, but it was enough to remind Daisy that even if she had no idea who her parents really were, she wasn’t alone anymore. Jemma wouldn’t abandon her, neither would any of the other girls. 

It didn’t make everything better, but it helped. 

“You must continue to be cautious,” Zordon was saying as Daisy focused back on the conversation. “Do not morph where you are visible, continue to keep your identities a secret, and stay vigilant. The Power Rangers must always be ready.” 

Zordon, without bothering to specify what the Rangers should be ready for, melted back into the wall. 

“I love it when he tells us exactly what we need, without all that cryptic nonsense,” Trini said sarcastically, lifting her head from Kim’s shoulder and standing up. 

“Maybe we can train him,” Daisy suggested, “like a dog. If he tells us the truth, we give him a treat.” 

“What treat? A day where we don’t bother him?” 

“Nah, he’d enjoy that too much.” 

The six Rangers laughed as they walked out of the Command Center together and none of the others commented when Daisy’s laugh came out a little more forced than normal. 

“Bonfire?” Trini asks after moving to Daisy’s side, her voice dropping to a low level that the other Rangers could probably still hear, given their advanced senses, but they had the good sense to stay quiet. 

“Yeah,” Daisy said back just as softly. “Don’t really feel like going home yet.” 

Trini nodded, turning back to the group. “Everyone down?” 

“Who needs sleep anyway?” Kim joked, nodding her head at Trini. Trini offered her a smile in return. 

“We’ll meet at the usual spot,” Valentina said, holding her hand out to Juliana and linking their fingers together. 

“I’ll get the fire started,” Daisy sent a small smile in Jemma’s direction, nodded at the others, and teleported out in a shimmer of pixelated light. 

“She’s not at all okay, is she?” Kim asked, moving to stand next to Trini again. Trini shook her head slightly, leaning in to Kim when the other girl wrapped an arm around her. 

“She will be,” Jemma told them without moving her gaze from where Daisy had been standing. “Give us twenty minutes, please.” 

“Sure thing, Jem,” Juliana agreed for all of them. Jemma disappeared in her own beam of light a moment later. They stood in silence for a moment before Juliana took Valentina’s hand in her own. “C’mon, let’s check that head injury.” 

Juliana pulled Valentina in the direction of the Med Bay by the hand, leaving Trini and Kim in the hall outside the Command Center. 

“What do we do now?” Trini asked softly, leaning further into Kimberly now that they were alone. Trini wasn’t as comfortable with PDA yet, they hadn’t even told the others that they were officially together. 

“Wait, and be there when Daisy lets us,” Kim slips her arm fully around Trini’s waist to hold the smaller girl close, not completely able to ignore the thrill she feels at being allowed to do so. There would be time to marvel at their new relationship status later, lots of time really, but for now they had a friend who deserved all the help they could give. 

~

Daisy hated the part of herself that was surprised when Jemma showed up at their bonfire spot mere moments after Daisy herself. Daisy hated the part of herself that still believed no one truly wanted to be around her, a part of herself that had been slowly healing as was now back full force. 

Jemma didn’t say anything as she moved to stand next to where Daisy was kneeling, moving some dry twigs around before she began nursing the fire to life. Daisy’s movements halted as she felt Jemma approaching, her shoulders tensing in a way that broke Jemma’s heart. She didn’t need to look at Daisy’s expression to know that it would be one of heartbreak but grudging acceptance, any fear hidden behind a clenched jaw and hard eyes. It made Jemma realize just how young they all were. All of them, just children with the weight of the world on their shoulders, but none of them as alone as Daisy felt in that moment. 

Try as she might, Jemma knew she could never truly understand what Daisy was going through. She knew her parents loved her from the moment her mum found out she was pregnant. She’d never been given reason to doubt that she was anything but loved and wanted. She’d never been abandoned the way Daisy had been. 

“I know I can never understand what you’re going through,” Jemma said softly, lifting one hand to rest it on Daisy’s shoulder, stroking her thumb back and forth until the muscles began to relax. “But I am here. If you want to talk or sit in silence or cry or anything else you need. I’m here…” 

Jemma trailed off suddenly the words ‘and I’m never going anywhere’ dying on her tongue because she didn’t think Daisy would appreciate a comment like that. No matter how true it was, coming from Jemma, there was no telling how many times Daisy had been told those exact words only for whoever said them to break that promise later. Jemma wouldn’t be that person, even accidentally. 

“I thought I finally found them, a family, parents who really cared,” Daisy said, her voice thick with emotion but she refused to cry. “I just don’t know anymore.” 

Jemma wanted to say something about it being okay to not know, but again didn’t think Daisy would be receptive of that. Instead, Jemma knelt down so she and Daisy were on equal footing, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend loosely until Daisy began to lean into her. 

“How can I help?” Jemma asked softly, pressing a kiss against Daisy's hairline. Daisy closed her eyes, turning her head to bury her nose against Jemma’s neck and inhaling slowly. 

“Just like this,” Daisy said without opening her eyes, leaning her weight on Jemma. Jemma readjusted and then they were sitting in the dirt, completely wrapped around one another, the twigs and dried leaves still unlit beside them. Jemma smoothed her hands over Daisy’s back, humming softly under her breath. 

By the time the other’s arrived, Jemma was sure that Daisy had fallen asleep against her chest but the other girl had sat up as the Rangers emerged from the treeline. 

“Anyone have a lighter?” Daisy asked, her tone nowhere near as cheery as usual, but not as downtrodden as before. Kimberly fished a lighter out of her pocket and tossed it over. Teasing questions arose over why Kim was carrying a lighter, Daisy was adamant that if she had something she should be sharing, before the Rangers settled down around the growing fire. They split into couples, as was becoming somewhat customary, but if they all sat a little closer together than normal, Daisy wasn’t going to complain. 

It was different, she decided, with her friends. She couldn’t deny that there was a small part of herself that was still afraid she would be abandoned again but not by her friends. Not by Jemma. The more time they spent together outside of Ranger duties, the more Daisy was sure of that. 

She couldn’t reconcile the lie her adoptive parents had been telling her, but at least she knew she didn’t have to face it all alone. 

“So…” Daisy broke the easy silence around them. “Halloween is coming up. What’re your bets that we’re going to have discount Rangers walking around?” 

[coffeebeannate]

Taken from @werebearbearbar

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in  2020. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

I started writing fic years and years ago. And have done so in other fandoms before taking a long hiatus from the writing world in general. I stuck with written roleplay only. For  what I assume to be around four or five years, I did not write a single fic. (I also wrote short stories in childhood, teen years and young adult years)

(I want to point out though that this absolutely does not negate roleplay writing, and that writing with another person, or in a group is a lesser form) My break from fanfic came with one of the worst periods of my mental and physical health, and everything I had written was purged from my Ao3 account in a single night.

I started writing for The Old Guard in August, and below, are the things I like a lot that I’ve written for it. To do this, I decided to use the criteria of ‘fics I like the most’ instead of what seems to be the most popular to read. For me, if I really love a piece of work, I recall the creative process fondly, and have lines and bits of dialogue I truly adore within it.

1. Precision Mission Fic. Gala. Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, NIcky)

Rated  M (Mature) 4846 words

My second fic for the fandom that I published, but the first I actually conceptualized. This one is just..so special to me. I have phone notes typed at five am. I can recall the excitement as I was so eager to share this story and get it off the ground. I wanted to see this complete so bad. I loved nearly every second of writing it, and it’s always going to hold a special place in my heart as a result. There’s so much overdone clothing talk and I can only think of it with fondness. 

Excerpt:

None of them are comfortable. Except Joe, it seems.

Joe makes it look easy. Simplistic, even, judging by the way he effortlessly glides and charms his way through the expansive ball/congregating/entertaining room. Something that never failed to fascinate Nicky was the way Joe could integrate himself almost seamlessly into any scenario, situation, or environment. Neither Andy nor himself had that ability. Not when it came to cavorting, anyway. Nicky more quietly reserved, Andy lacking in the ability to care enough to fake it.

Nile seemed to be more in the middle. She did not appear overly comfortable with the mingling, but she had enough personal grace and adaptability to make it seem somewhat effortless to have a decent time.

All their eyes remained sharp on the surrounding area, awaiting the arrival of their target. And for all his schmoozing, Nicky knew Joe’s surveillance was tack-sharp, multitasking to a degree no one he was currently conversing with could have possibly noticed.

“You going to move at some point, or have you taken up permanent resident status here?” Nile asks, appearing at his side where Nicky has spent the last half-hour molded to the furthest left corner of the solid black bar. “I know you have an excellent view, but.”

Nicky snorted, though only Nile could actually tell, “Why waste a good opportunity?”, momentarily ceasing his Joe watching to stare back into the depths of his glass, which currently contained some horrifically shocking pink abomination, Nicky’s second drink, since he was letting the bar tender dictate them, too utterly distracted to care what was touching his lips, and curious with the way the bar tender had delighted in being given free reign to make whatever he desired.

To be fair, it didn’t taste that bad-something frighteningly sugary and weirdly noxious smelling, but it’s not exactly ‘crime against humanity’ levels of alcoholic nightmares.

--

2. Old

Post-movie. Current Group. (Andy, Nile, Joe, Nicky) Mortal Andy. Character study.

Rated T (Teen and Up Audiences), 2903 words.

My first attempt at Andy-centric writing. Andy is a character I consider a challenge to write, and that makes me want to write her more. This fic centers mostly around her and the others trying to come to terms with how much has happened, within day to day life and taking the comfort that they can in one another.

I really like this fic. A lot. Sure it’s short. Sure maybe not much happens, but Andy’s character fascinates me, as does her relationship with her family.

Excerpt:

Old.

Old

Old

So motherfucking old.

Someone is calling out to her, her hearing and senses long fine-tuned to knowing. It’s Nicky- she can easily pretend she can’t hear him, he knows when she doesn’t want to talk to anyone, after all.

She’s being petty, and she knows it’s unfair. That the nearly untouched plate and nights spent not sleeping gives them reason to be at her. But facing them with that fact feels about as ideal as jumping into a flaming volcano right about now. They’re just worried. It makes her stomach turn, sour and vicious. Venom in the gut, acid in the heart.

Said volcano would be kinder.

--

3. Spice it Up (Or Not)

Joe and Nicky. Pre-Movie. Fluffy Lovings

Rated: E (Explicit) 3030 words

This one was just fun. I am such a sucker for banting, and the most established of established relationships that Nicky and Joe have going on. This one is indeed not safe for work, and honestly, the opening paragraphs are what came first, and I actually had to build the story around it.

Something that I think makes this fic fun to me as well is that, just because something that sounded like a good idea fails, it doesn’t make it an ending. Healthy communication, knowing each other..it’s so blissful to think about.

Things aren’t always perfect, but that’s okay. And it’s not always a threat. Oh and because this is me, what was supposed to be fairly light hearted gets all sappy and reflective mid-way.

Excerpt:

He knows Nicky in every way. He knows his scent from battle, from sex, from showers and from sleep. He knows his eyes in darkness, in light, in dread, excitement and worry. He knows his grief, his love, his sadness, and adoration. Excitement, passion, fear, and pain.

He could count each tear that Nicky has shed, could recall each tone of his voice in every language they know. From the first he heard to the current. The sweet harmony of song and the rough gasp of drunk intoxication. He’s heard him yell, heard him scream. Heard his shouts and his cries.

He knows how Nicky tends to favour his left shoulder even though there’s no reason beyond psychological to do so. A spot Joe stabbed so long ago. So far back in another life. He knows how he likes to pause and do surveillance before they enter any new location. Knows he likes vehicles that move fast and has a fondness for roller coasters.

He’s seen those hands, so large and skilled break bone, wield a sword and cut vegetables and fruit. Seen them card through his hair, felt them map out each knot and ridge in his spine and ribs, felt them so deep inside himself he can taste it. Rolling into it. Demanding, needing.

“Yusuf.” Nicky’s not calling him back, Nicky’s just as far gone. So often they seem to share thoughts.

Nicky knows Joe in all ways and more. Knows that Joe still sometimes seems to speak ancient by-gone languages in his sleep. Knows that he tends to carry the strongest personal scent in the dead of night. That no shower, no soap, no life experience or battle has truly ever masked the delightful musk he has to himself. There could be a cologne out there that would modify it, and Nicky would bite and lick it away. Demanding and asking, why take this from me? How dare you try to alter what I know and love so furiously?

--

4. Touch Before Heart

Historical Kaysanova. Early Years. Pre-Movie. Getting to Know Eachother.

Rated E (Explicit) 5030 words

As is pretty obvious by now, I write a LOT of early years Kaysanova. A lot. I am addicted to it.

This one..I love it. This might be one of my favourite pieces of writing of all time. If I was doing these numbers strictly in order preference, then I’d put it as number one I bet.

I think the summary I made for it sums up well just how much I love it. And maybe why.

The first moment they’re able to have a bath, they resolutely do not look at each other. Picking opposite ends of the small stream bed, backs turned to one another. A strange show of both trust and distrust; their backs were exposed, but it was up to their tentative mutual agreement to not partake in the opportunity to stab each other for it.

The..idea that they had so much to learn, so much to understand. So much confusion, anger mistrust..I just really really adore this fic and I think I did a good  job with it.

Excerpt:

He curses in unison with Nicolò, both holding fast and steady as the thing finally rights itself, Nicolò letting out a slow, shaken breath of relief.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asks, both to break the silence and mend the irritating gap they’ve created for themselves.

“Better. Thank you.”

Yusuf wants to scream.

He wants to grab Nicolò, shake him until he can do nothing but give him answers.

Why do you drive me to the brink of madness?

Why do I know your touch, but not your heart?

Why do you tempt me, consume me?

What does it mean?

Why are we here?

Why!?

It is an unfair desire; he’s hardly given the man any more clarity.

--

5. Curated

Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, Nicky)

Rated G (General Audiences) 1807 words

Alright, I admit it, I had trouble picking number five. I picked Curated because it’s just..so fluffy. But it’s so sweet I always feel so sugary when I think of it. The softness that I tried to convey, and I think I succeeded.

Nile is another character that fascinates me, that  I just do not explore enough, and this is all the comforting goodness I could ever hope to create.

Excerpt: 

She’s grown used to the easy intimacy they all share, but the sight before her, Nicky’s eyes half-lidded, face a perfect serenity she rarely see’s on it, Joe lost, far-away in reciting but still wholly present, creates an odd, near-throbbing ache in her chest. Something powerful and raw. It’s hard to imagine that people who have been alive this long can be this content.

Everything they’ve seen, experienced and done. All the stories they’ve regaled her with. All the prep, the anxieties, the concerns, and curiosities. None of it seems to exist in these moments. Joe speaking in a language the world might think dead, the true master of softness within the room.

--

And there we have it! I have so much more I want to write, I have so much more I want to explore, and I thank you all for sharing in these journey’s with me. May there be more writing in our future!

[apexarrow]

Official LFRP post.

Shiloh Artorian

The Basics ––– –

Age: 27

Birthday: 16th sun of the third umbral moon

Race: Hyur / Midlander

Gender: female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Marital Status: Not looking.

Server: Mateus

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Naturally Black. Was Bleached to platinum blonde during the events of ARR, then dyed black again during the events of Heavensward. Sometimes faint, faded remnants of blonde peek through.

Eyes: Malachite Green.

Height: 5′8″

Build: Average with a strong torso and arms from years of fighting with a bow and arrow.

Distinguishing Marks: Nothing particularly noteworthy.

Common Accessories: Big hats, typically adorned with a plume. A pair of elegant red and green earrings. Long boots with heels. When on the job, is armed with either a compound bow and arrow, or a large rifle. 

Voice: Bonnie Gordon as Eva Roux

Personal ––– –

Profession: Leader of La Trouvaille, a small mercenary company that specializes in search-and-rescue and bounty-hunting jobs under the radar. They skirt the line of legality in the pursuit of justice, and often operate in secret. Former innkeeper, tavern bard and Gold Saucer Chocobo race jockey. 

Hobbies: Singing, dancing, dolling herself up in expensive clothes and makeup, accompanying Galaihaurat ( @honourateventide​ ) just about anywhere they decide to travel on either business or a spontaneous whim. Reading poetry beside a crackling fire. 

Languages: Common

Residence: Bounces between Ishgard proper and La Trouvaille’s headquarters stationed on the border of Coerthas and the Shroud.

Birthplace: Ul’dah, Thanalan.

Religion: Forever Halone.

Patron Deity: Halone

Fears: Failing to protect the one she loves, or otherwise losing them to circumstance beyond her control. Not being accepted due to her immigrant status in Ishgard. 

Relationships ––– -

Children: none

Parents: A merchant and an innkeeper, both deceased in the calamity.

Siblings: One brother who left years ago to fight the Garleans. He left the family business in her care, and she transformed a simple inn into what La Trouvaille is today. 

Other Relatives: none

Pets: A white chocobo given to her by Galaihaurat and his family, lovingly named Mitaines. 

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: socially, occasionally Drugs: None Alcohol: Only when there is no job to be done immediately after.

RP Hooks ––– –

The Gold Saucer - As a teenager, Shiloh made a living as a chocobo jockey at the gold saucer. She got involved up in an illegal, unsanctioned gambling ring. Naively, she believed if she did the right thing and refused to throw a race, her career would remain in tact. With a damning scandal pinned on her and many gamblers in debt for it, she fled Ul’dah for her own safety. 

Immigration into Ishgard - Shiloh sought to get as far from Ul’dah as possible, eventually winding up in Coerthas central highlands and finding work tending to Chocobos. This brought her into the Holy See itself, where she found work at the Forgotten Knight as a bard. She capitalized on her status as an outsider, singing songs of far away lands and lending an ear - or shoulder - to the bar’s patrons when they needed it.

High Society - It was a shared belief in justice that brought her and Galaihaurat together, and she was granted a job as a servant in his household in return for a place to live. She would often be seen in the pillars - mostly trying to stay out of the nobles’ way as she ran errands and did other jobs for the Oraguille family. She was well taken care of by the family, who gifted her fine clothes and jewelry occassionally.

The End of the War - Following the revelations brought about by the end of the Dragonsong war, tensions among nobility were high. Shiloh continued to work in the Pillars and the Forgotten Knight, but nearly found herself a victim of mob violence when she spoke up in defense of the Heavens’ Ward. Spirited away from the crowd by Galaihaurat, the two left the city to reflect and find new beginnings elsewhere. 

The Twin Seasons and La Trouvaille. - When the Artorians’ Inn was left to Shiloh by her younger brother, Shiloh transformed it into a company of its own. As long as one has the coin or the willingness to work, they are welcome to stay in the cozy hospitality of the Twin Seasons as long as they wish. Its latest location boasts an impressive bar and plenty of space to lounge. It is a welcome, warm haven for those leaving Coerthas - and the last warm stop on the road for those going in.

OOC Info  ––– –

1. I’m a grownup. 21+ with many years of RP experience. I’m in a happy, committed relationship. I’m not looking for any OOC romance.

2. That means no erping. Nothing beyond an R-rated film. That’s what fading to black is for.

3. Open to almost all manner of dark themes. Not sure if something’s going too far? Just ask me, communication is key.

4. I’m often busy. I work full time and am preparing to move across the country. But if I make a commitment to RP or take screens or whatever, I always do my best to keep that commitment. 

5. I love taking screenshots in this game its literally like my favorite thing so if you RP with me you’re gonna get screenshots that’s just how it is.

6. I’m open to rp most anywhere. In game, in discord, google docs or tumblr, or wherever.

[dyinglightroleplay]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

NAME : Sirius Black RELATIONSHIP TO THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX : Member ( active - duty ) AGE / BIRTHDATE : 19 Years Old / born 3 November 1959 + 12:02 AM ZODIAC SIGN : Scorpio ( sun ), Sagittarius ( moon ) + Leo ( rising ) EDUCATION : Hogwarts Graduate ( Gryffindor House ) BLOOD STATUS : Pureblood

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

✧     Kingsley Shacklebolt ( platonic ) ✧     Ambrose Thomas ( antagonistic ) ✧     Sturgis Podmore ( player’s choice )

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍.

Near the Hogwarts dungeons.  Sirius is currently missing.

CHARACTER NOTES : Sirius is an unregistered Animagus.  The Black family is Italian.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍.

PLAYER : Lin FACECLAIM : Luke Pasqualino URL : @riibellarsi

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE

ZERO / RISING. * How is your character perceived by others?  What mask do they wear, and is there more than one?

Arrogant boy! Who is he, to think himself beyond the confines of a strong family name!

Literally, who is Sirius Black if not for the child most disappointed by family.

There’s something to say about masks, that they’re impossible to wear unless critical parts reflected are actual traits of the wearer. To some, they might see a man whose unearned confidence is a shining beacon of youthful mediocrity. To others, they can pinpoint where exactly the big bad world hurt him by the bags occupying space under his eyes.  He’ll play up the fact that he’s persnickety, he’ll lean into his own lacking prudence, both of which are caricatures of a man trying to find himself through the valleys of chaos young adulthood coupled with … war brings.  But ultimately, Sirius’ mask is that his isn’t a mask at all. If you’re trying to hide something by showing only what you want to an audience, it’s best to know what that something is. Wouldn’t you agree?

He’s entirely too much. Too emotional, too possessive, too careless, too, too, too —-. If asked, this topic of masks would be answered with simple “I’m an idealist.” He hides, at most, his disappointment when these wild expectations in life aren’t met, yet retains his natural buoyant, optimistic, and cheerful independence.

ONE / THE SUN. * Choose one to explore : what about their personality, general preferences, sense of self / ego, or fundamental traits attracted you to them?

Anyone who has tried to flourish within an unhealthy home environment can speak to the difficulties of breaking cyclic ignorance. Like yelling into mirrors, every opinion is in agreeance with one another until the echoing chasm of like minds is deafening. In Sirius’ case, I like to think his initial break sprouted from boredom. Teenage boyhood rambunctiousness and need to start shit just to keep him from falling asleep at the supper table. His rebellious streak isn’t entirely unheard of when talking the handful of rogue men and women the Black’s have raised, but it’s certainly noteworthy. What I find the most interesting about him is despite being humbled by his found family, his personality remained rather sure. That deep seeded desire for validation is relatable as fuck, and he didn’t strike me as the type to be embarrassed about it. He owns it. He owns that he’s come from mistakes, that he’s imperfect, but that doesn’t mean he can’t want for better (FIGHT for better) or doesn’t deserve better.  

TWO / THE MOON. * Which color would you associate most strongly with them and the emotions that dominate them?  Describe however you’d like.

Purple. Not for traditional association with regality and wealth so much as its rich encompassing nature. It’s never been a primary color, it requires work and an excellent eye to make it appear naturally or in artwork without overpowering the subject. Purple as the grapes ripened on vines in summertime and the deep coloring of a fresh bruise.

Sirius Black is a mixture, you see. Despite a period of time where he may have thought himself harsh blues like his family, there’s always been something red to draw his passions out. Reds in the house where he befriends the Marauders, reds in the blood same as everyone that beats through one heart. He’s someone considered to be at constant flux, sometimes a shade of purple so dark it’s near black ( all puns intended ) and others so light he’s walking talking springtime in a meatsuit. While these hues can still be thought as colors of wealth, for him it’s a wealth in love, a wealth in comradery, a wealth in experience, a wealth in knowledge.

THREE / MERCURY. * What is this character’s area of expertise? Where do they excel?

Beyond being an absolutely beguiling man in constant, dire need of confirmatory love from others? He’s always excelled at dueling. Specifically when defensive charms are being doled out rapid fire. Years of boyish wonder in magic has lent itself to an encyclopedic memory of spells that really have no purpose other than defense ( stomp, stomp, stomp ) defense ! Yeah, defense against the dark arts and transfiguration are both contenders for top spot, but they’re not where he’s set himself above expectations.

[polandspringz]

12 for your hunters

Prompt: Who hurt you? 

I decided to write from the perspective of Rat King Cora for this one! This is going to be part 1 of a 3 for a series examining Rattul’s character arc and her relationship with Cora. Enjoy!

Nothing was supposed to come of it. It had been many moons since we had taken over this land, and only a few less since I had been split from our host and granted my own life and space to rule in the kingdom. I remembered being in the throne room for the first time, a vibrating cluster not yet fully formed, standing side by side with brothers and sisters who were all reminded of the same thing.

This gift, it could be stripped away at anytime.

Once a day had passed and the multitude of bodies had merged into one solid beast, we were assigned a zone and told a list of instructions, and sent on our way. We were only to return for reports or in cases when the Emperor requested our council, and even then, we would return as a group, and not alone.

Perhaps that was the Emperor’s first mistake.

When I was summoned to the castle, the letter outlining that my presence was for a private meeting and this was explicitly not a council meeting, I had to admit to myself that I felt something. Like an invisible hand was brushing up my back, bristling my fur as my claws tried not to crumple the summons in my hands. We had never been told about something like this, but it had been implied.

I had my servants dress me in my finest robe but pick out my simplest crown. There was protocol for entering the castle, and we all knew that even with our status, it would be an insult if we tried to look better than the Emperor. Either way, humbling myself probably wouldn’t save me, but it might make my end swift and painless.

When I was brought to the capital and guided inside the Emperor’s private chamber, you could imagine the thoughts that were swirling through my head. He had always been a showy, brazen rat, and I had entertained the various public ways of turning me into a demonstration for the public, but perhaps he didn’t want his reputation tarnished too much. I passed through a solid, gold, glossy door into a dark green room same thing here decorated in styles stolen from Arabia, some incense floating about as the Emperor sat on his canopy bed, a long smoking pipe wafting in the air with sweet scent of the cheese.

Luckily for me, instead of my demise, me waited for the door to lock before launching into a discussion of an important assignment. There was a marine biology lab to the east of the city, built into an old dock that had since become run-down and decrepit from the funding that was lost when the government was overthrown and it being a hot-spot for gang crime. Apparently, there were still scientists there, and the Emperor wanted to launch an investigation into whether other creatures could become like us.

“This is confidential, you understand? I’m entrusting you to this because you were the first of those who split from me. You are the most like me, so I know you won’t cross me. Well, none of you would, but I know you would never.”

Perhaps I would’ve been elated at my life being spared if it weren’t for those words. I finished up the meeting and promptly went to the docks, seeing no real need for negotiation as the Emperor owned everything. The place was disgusting, even for somewhere in Rat City, and I figured once the scientists inside saw me they would comply or else I would present my more monstrous form. What I was not prepared for, was for a short woman with a wispy brown bob and piercing light eyes to throw her hand in front of me and demand I leave.

“You’re trespassing,” was all she said, one hand inside the pocket of her white lab coat as at least ten other male scientists cowered behind her. Frustrated, I decided to whip out my snarling teeth and hunch my back, hovering over her as I dripped saliva and let my eyes turn black.

“You will listen to us or we will tear you limb from limb.”

She didn’t seem fazed, “I’ve dealt with plenty of your kind before, I’m not afraid to do it again. Now, close your mouth.”

I blinked back to normal as she bopped me in the nose with her palm, causing my maw to snap shut before she shoved both hands into the pockets and stared up at me, “Now, are you able to discuss with us like a good boy or am I going to have to throw you out?”

The human had me return with a sack of gold to compensate her facility for the research. There had always been an unspoken understanding between the Emperor and the rest of us and that our presence alone would be enough to get the humans to comply, and if not, we could use force. Trading a bundle of coin that resembled the hue of cheese but had no taste seemed foolish and beneath what we were capable of, but the human wouldn’t budge without it and I feared what the Emperor would have done if I had returned with news that I had sat at a crummy negotiation table for hours and still had no solution instead of just bulldozing the woman.

I was given a writ that she signed granting me permission into the lab for checks whenever I wanted to, and promised that she would keep me updated on the progress. I left with less pointless symbols of wealth and an odd feeling coming from my center that left me a bit dizzy and confused as I stumbled into my rickshaw and had my servants carry me home.

I had been bamboozled.

A week later, I dropped in after one of their scientists came to my castle with shaky knees and a report for me to read. I had snatched the paper out of the tiny man’s hands and ignored the yelp from the scratch I had caused before I read over it hastily. Frustrated and insulted at the strange language and symbols on the page, I went over to the docks and burst inside, demanding an explanation.

“Calm down,” was all the woman said, never taking her eyes off the tank full of floating squid as she jotted something down, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“You will answer us this instant!”

“I said, in a minute. I’m taking notes on the progress of the experiments you requested. Be patient.”

I became aggravated, and reached towards her throat, “I said this insta-”

She threw up a hand grabbed ahold of my wrist, easily avoiding being scratched by any part of my claws. Her eyes were narrowed, a dead, annoyed half-lidded look in them as her clipboard shifted and clanged against the glass of the tank. Three of her fingers were coiled in my matted fur, but her pointed and thumb were still curved round the pen she had been using moments before.

“I will explain everything to you if you give me a moment. I just need to take some more notes on these guys. Now, you can either sit over there,” she gestured with her head to a round table with two plastic chairs, “or you can leave, and I will send someone else over to give you another report, and you can continue going blissfully unaware of what we are doing. Those are your choices.”

She slowly let go of me, and touch lingering for a moment, and then went back to writing. Her reflection in the glass never showed her eyes glancing over to me, she was completely focused on the fleshy, slimy white sea creatures mingling about inside the water. After a minute of deliberation, I stomped over to the table and slammed down into the plastic chair, crossing my arms and glaring at the back of her head as I waited. It didn’t last though, because my weight was too much, and the chair shattered and sent my tumbling to the hard concrete ground unceremoniously. Too stunned, I rolled a bit on the ground in the pile of broken plastic and metal, embarrassment creeping up my neck.

I always missed her back hunching over and shaking, her face hidden from afar but her laughter ringing out clearly through the walls of the lab even as she tried to stifle it.

The human was more than happy to explain things to me once she was done with her “notes”. They had caught several different types of sea life known for their intelligence and were beginning to experiment with their reaction to different environmental changes in combination with the medicine that was thought to cause the initial mutations in the first two rats, Ratam and Reve. She had sent some of her colleagues over to the library to find newspapers and journalism that would have the published research so they could use it to speed up their research.

“So, once we get them to lay some eggs, we’ll be able to manipulate the genes a bit more and then we’ll go from there.”

“Will they be like us then?”

She laughed, “Probably not that soon. Experiments like this can take upwards of three years.”

I grumbled, “We need it done faster. We will not be happy about this.”

“Who’s we?”

I blinked at her, confused.

“You don’t know who we are?”

“You never told me your name,” she said matter of factly. I should have been offended on the Emperor’s behalf, but I couldn’t find it in myself to launch into another tirade. She had made me a cup of tea and was just blowing across the steam from her own, eyes flicking up to me as they waited for me to answer.

“Oh, well, it’s Cora,” I drummed my claws on the table, but at the loud ticking sound, I shoved them into my lap, “Rat King Cora.”

“That’s quite the title,” she hummed, “but a bit too long for my tastes.”

“Well,” I scoffed, “what’s your name then?”

“Rattul. Just Rattul.”

“Don’t humans usually have middle and last names too?”

“Dr. Rattul, if you must. But just Rattul will do. Now, if you don’t drink your tea, it will go to waste.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

I left the lab that day before a long rain shower began, and I felt that same cloudy, confusing feeling take over me. I didn’t know why, but I would return to my castle and enter a cycle of anxiously awaiting the next report to come, so I could storm over and complain about her needing to explain things to me again. Technically, the writ did say I could visit whenever, but, as much as I hated to admit it to myself, I didn’t have the confidence to do that just yet. Even as she began writing the reports in much easier terms that I could comprehend, it was easier for me to just pretend I still didn’t so I could use that as my excuse to drop by.

Furthermore, all of her reports got forwarded to the Emperor, so there were some occasions when I needed to stop by the capital and summarize her findings to him. While Rattul was conducting research on whether squids and other life could become sentient like us or not, the desired result the Emperor hoped to see was an overwhelming “no”. No matter how many tests it took, he wanted to be certain that there would be no competition for the rats now that they had overtaken humans. As rodents, we were one of the most intelligent creatures, but cephalopods and things in the sea that we had not interacted with before posed a different kind of threat if they could become like us.

In the chance that Rattul discovered and inadvertently created the first group of sentient marine life, like the scientists did a few years ago for us, not only would we have to begin a new operation to invest more time and resources into designing a way to prevent anymore from developing, I had to wonder if Rattul would be punished for what she had wrought.

“I received a letter from the Emperor, by the way.”

I almost tripped over one of the wires leading out of the tanks around the facility, “What?”

“The Emperor? Ratmilian? He wants me to bring a collection of my findings next month straight to the capital.”

“That can’t be right,” I stopped and began to shake, “That’s wrong.”

“I can show you the letter. One of my scientists almost got eaten alive by the messenger who didn’t like the way he opened the door,” she kept walking along the tanks, reaching to grab the red railing of a metal staircase that led to a catwalk that ran overhead the entire facility.

“No, no, no. You don’t understand. That can’t be right.”

She walked along the roof of three tanks, her clipboard and coat bathed in the blue light, “Well, it is. I don’t know why you’re so shaken up about this.”

“It can’t be right because he didn’t tell us!” I shouted, clutching at my ears and beginning to scratch, “He always tells us! He can’t not tell us!”

My nails cut through the fur and sliced into the skin, beginning to draw blood as I scratched and scratched in frustration, my crown knocking off my head. Through the liquid pain now beading from my skull, I could hear metal tinging in rapid succession before footsteps raced towards me. Something patted at my snout, and then soft hands came up and coiled around my wrists again, pulling them away.

Rattul was looking at me, a mixture of awe and concern washing over her face, flooding it with more expression than I had ever seen her wear before. Her mouth was open slightly so I could see the slight gap in her front teeth, her eyes were wide and framed by a furrowed brow as she stared up at me, darting around to see all the damage I had done to myself within a few seconds.

“Hey, hey,” her voice hushed, “Why are you getting so worked up? Here, come with me.”

She tugged on my arm, but I didn’t budge right away. My head was bowed and trained on the ground, and I felt null and devoid of anything. I had shut down. There were so many questions running through my head moments ago and now I was just flatlining, everything having slammed up against a brick wall and dropping dead for me to just look at.

Why did the Emperor want Rattul? Was there something in her reports he didn’t like? Did he want to shut down the experiments? Did he have a problem with me visiting? Did he know something about how I-

I flinched as her hands came up to pet my ears, pressing them down flat before she smoothed out the fur again, “Ugh, even for a king, you’re really dirty. There’s a bath in the back, let’s get you washed up and then we can bandage you. I don’t want you to be getting hurt around here though, so it might be best for you to go home after, okay?”

I nodded meekly, and let her pull my along, guiding me carefully over tubes and wires to a hallway with a back room where Rattul and the other scientists slept. She took my red cloak and set it beside my crown, which she had picked up while we walked, on the counter and then coaxed me into the shower. I don’t remember much of what she did after the spray of cold hit my face, but my skin does still recall the water slowly turning warm the moment her hands ran along my back with foaming soap bubbling between her fingers.

She dried me off with a blow dryer and patted me with a big blanket, as towels were too small for my form, and then she taped up the gashes on my temples.

“Listen, I don’t really know the protocol for this, but if you would like to accompany me to the capital, I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” she said, sitting on the counter after she had cleaned me up, “I know I act indifferent, but even I’m a little nervous about seeing the Emperor of all people.”

“You’re afraid of him but you weren’t of me?”

“How could I be afraid of someone like you?” She chuckled, gesturing, “You were just a fat, muddy rat pretending to be someone rich. The Emperor… well, you know how the anthem goes- he’s the giant rat who makes all the rules! It’s different, you know?”

I stared down at the floor, fiddling with my claws for a moment before I stood up, the blanket falling off my shoulders onto the floor, “I should really be going, if you will excuse me.”

“Wait! One question, so it’s me now?”

I paused in the doorway, “What?”

“Just now, you said ‘me’, and before you said ‘I’. I’m so used to you saying ‘we’ and ‘us’,” she hopped off the counter but leaned on it with one hand, “What happened to this ‘we’?”

A horrible revelation dawned on me, and I tried my best to keep my claws at my sides and not to show any stress, “I’m sorry, we need to go now.”

As I sprinted out of the facility, I did not miss the way her expression melted into a frown, a sigh leaving her lips. I ran back by the tanks towards the exit, passing the red metal mesh that her clipboard had been abandoned on. Before I made it to the door, I saw something flash from within one of the glass walls.

Floating, surrounded by squid, Rattul’s pen had fallen in.

“And so, that is my report,” Rattul finished, folding her arms behind her back as she stared straight ahead, eyes pretending to lock onto the Emperor who was seated on his throne, leaning on his arm as he listened for over an hour to a recounting of all of her progress.

“So, what you’re saying is you haven’t made any progress really, is that right?”

I stiffened off to the side. Despite the two of us parting on awkward terms last time, I had received my own summons to the castle for “separate business”, but as I was in charge of overseeing the operation, I was allowed to sit in on the meeting between the scientists and the Emperor.

“With all due respect, Emperor Ratmilian, I was under the impression from Rat King Cora that there would be no time limit on my research. We’ve already had the first group of eggs hatch, but like I said, the squids were contaminated by a foreign substance. So now, we’re working with only the octopi and salmon.”

“What was this foreign substance? You keep describing it vaguely. Just spit it out already.”

Rattul sighed and shut her eyes, “It was a pen. A simple writing utensil that got inside the tank. We extracted it, but the squids had already managed to unscrew it and unleash the purified ink into the container, so we don’t quite know what’s going on in there. It would be unwise to continue to do tests on something with so many unknown factors.”

“How did you manage to drop a pen in there? One of my own is paying you to conduct this research, we expected you to be extremely cautious.”

For a moment, Rattul’s eyes flickered to me, and I thought that perhaps she was going to sell me out, say something about how she dropped it when I began to act erratic, how it was my fault and that I was the one that caused the experiments to come to a grinding halt. But, instead:

“The platforms above the tanks are damp because of the condensation. I slipped and almost fell, which is why the pen fell in. I think you would agree it is better we only lost a tank, and not the leading biologist on this project, no?”

The Emperor didn’t take kindly to her words. Sitting up on his throne, he leaned forward with a frown on his face, his beady black eyes ablaze with such anger I had never seen before. I felt adrenaline in me, tempting me to jump in if he lunged or called his guards to attack her, but I was frozen to the side of the room beside the marble column I had been waiting next to since I was dismissed.

“I can get any biologist to take over for you, do not feel so high and mighty, puny human. In an instant, I could have you swallowed whole or ripped limb from limb or thrown into the dungeons of one of my men to rot for all of time. These degrees, mere sheets of paper with ink on them that you humans deem worthy of your intelligence means nothing to a being like me, who was born and manifested into greatness and wholeness from simply existing. The universe chose me, but it did not chose you. I will let you go this time, but if you come back to me with no definitive answer again, I will not be merciful this time.”

Rattul merely stared dead eyed at him and then with a wave of her hand, did an over exaggerated bow, before backing out of the room. Once she had disappeared behind the heavy stone doors, the Emperor turned to me.

“Cora, please come forward.”

I crossed over the threshold of the marble, mosaic tile to the red carpet, turning and walking up to my Emperor with as much grace as I could muster, even as my anxiety continued to send me internally into fits of panic. Rattul had put him in a bad mood, there was no way I was going to be treated nicely today.

“Now, Cora, while I am displeased with the progress of this whole… endeavor, I have a different matter I would like to discuss with you. To cut to the chase, because I have other things I must attend to afterwards, I wanted to make sure you still remembered who you were.”

My brain short-circuited again, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve received a few concerned notices from some of the servants in your castle. They’ve been saying you’ve been acting differently ever since I gave you this assignment. Furthermore, your language just now confirms some of their suspicions. Cora… When have we ever used ‘me’?”

I froze, “I’m sorry, Emperor, I-”

“‘I, I, I,’ these are not words I like to hear, Cora, from you at least.”

“We’re sorry, Emperor, we have just been-”

“Have you lost your mind?” He suddenly screamed at me, jumping off of his throne, the millions of rats making up his shape began to wriggle as the impact jostled his imposing form, “Have you forgotten all that you knew when you were born from me? There is no ‘I’, there is no ‘you’, there is no ‘we’ unless I am included! I am the only one of you lot that can say such things, because I am the only one who the universe awoke, and I was the one who granted you a piece of me so you could do my bidding! You are nothing! You are nothing without me and you are nothing but a lowly clone in my presence! You can do nothing without me, and you will be nothing without me! Now, what do you have to say for yourself?!”

I responded in a series of squeaks and sad chirps, cowering as he raised his claws towards me. He noticed the bandages on my head, and suddenly rained down a series of blow upon my ears.

“It’s that human, isn’t it? It was a mistake sending you there, it was a mistake thinking I could entrust anyone but myself with my kingdom, my world. Cursed human language, I can’t fault such lesser beings from communicating with such words, but among my subjects, I forbid it. Cora, you will not test me again. You will remember your place, correct?”

“Cora will remember his place. King will remember his place.”

“Good, you measly pawn,” he huffed and fixed the lapels on his jacket, “and just to make sure of it…”

Sharp pain stabbed into me and my whole body began to vibrate violently as the Emperor stuck his hand inside, breaking through the solid wall my settled body had shaped itself into. Suddenly I wasn’t Cora, I was thousands of rats squirming about in a panic as sharp, pointed, broken claws forced past them, moving deeper into my form. With gasping breaths, the Emperor leaned in close to my face and smiled sickly at me, yellow broken teeth and a wild look in his eyes set against his reddish brown fur made me shiver as I went into shock.. Suddenly he wrapped around our center, the rat that was seated in the middle of us and he yanked, the other rats tried to hold in but as he retracted his hand the force in which he ripped the rat out of us sent us stumbling backwards.

“Remember, this, it is a gift. I can easily take it away.”

He eyed the panicked, flailing rat for a moment before he skewered it with a nail. We fell apart, collapsing into a heap on the floor into thousands of scampering panicked rats. The Emperor dropped the body of our center.

“You are still expected to continue your duties like usual. Have fun putting yourself back together again.”

He walked through the curtains behind the throne and out into the hall, leaving us alone to seize and twitch in pain until we could get enough of our bearings to try and piece ourselves back together again. Doors to the throne room opened and closed, people walked in and out, but no one stopped to help us. By the time we had reformed and regained our one, combined vision, the old central rat was gone.

It was Rattul who came to the castle to visit me. Rather than sending one of her underlings, she marched her way in with a report in hand, although I could tell that it was all a guise. We had agreed when we were leaving the capital together to forgo any future reports, as the Emperor seemed he was going to be displeased with anything I sent him. I tried not to think too much about the Emperor as we left, and I hoped that Rattul didn’t notice anything strange about my behavior or appearance. I was surprised she waited for me at all, with how long my “meeting” took.

The doors to my own, dark, stone and concrete throne room were thrown open, and Rattul walked across the ballroom floor to meet me. I almost leapt out of my chair when she appeared, my arms held open, but then I felt the instability of my own form and I pulled away. I probably looked disgusting, she could probably see all the rats bubbling under the skin.

“I came to bring you this,” was what she said, holding out the usual yellow envelope of files that were delivered, “and to ask where you’ve been.”

It wasn’t that I was avoiding her, but Emperor Ratmilian had been keeping a tight hold on all of the other rules since my incident. We had to appear for two cases of humans being arrested by the rat police, both of which fell on my shoulders to house until a suitable punishment could be designed for them. In front of the prisoners, everyone had reverted to our more primal speak of squeaks and screams, as it was better to keep them blind to our plans. The girl wasn’t causing us too much trouble, however, now that the strange looking man had been throw into my dungeon as well, I found myself a bit more nervous at night.

“I had other responsibilities, I am not obligated to visit you. The writ says I can visit whenever I deem it necessary.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Do not use such coarse language in front of me.”

“If anyone should be lecturing you on language, it shouldn’t be you, or that Emperor guy. Now open the dumb package.”

I stiffened at the Emperor’s name. Rattul crossed her arms and looked away, sniffing loudly through her nose.

“Did you really think I didn’t hear the whole thing? Now open it.”

My claws trembled as I opened the package, undoing the little loop around the button humans loved to use. As I popped the flap open, something came scurrying at me.

It was my center.

“After he did that to you, I walked in and saw it all. I took away this guy and fixed him up before he could die. He’s been doing okay. I don’t know if there will be any issues, but, I’ve been studying how you guys work and exist, so I’m fairly confident my medical treatment didn’t ruin his sentience or whatnot.”

I looked down at the little rat in my hands. I had since gotten a new center, a new rat had moved in to take this one’s place after it had fallen out. Having a weak center was bad, and according to the Emperor, this one had always been weak. I glanced at Rattul, seeing her fidgeting.

“If you don’t want it, that’s fine too. I see you’ve already reformed so-”

“No, Rattul… Thank you. I want to put them back in but… I don’t know how you would react to seeing it.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no, not at all. I just don’t know if I’m ready.”

The rat in my hand squeaked up at me excitedly, “Well, he seems ready,” she laughed, “but I can wait. Take your time.”

She sat down on the ground of the ballroom, and I too decided to take a seat. Keeping the rat cupped in my hands, I prepared myself for what was to come. I could try and completely fall apart again and have them fight to rebuild, or I could try and coax the new center to move to its old position. Either way, it would be unpleasant to watch, and unpleasant to feel.

I took a deep breath, “I’m sorry if this upsets you in some way,” was all I said before I shoved the rat towards my chest like a dagger into the heart. Instantly, the shield of me being one giant rat collapsed, and the truth of me being a mass of thousands of rats was revealed once more to the world. My eyes fell away, my ears and head became clusters of wiggly, mutated beasts. Although not as startling and painful as with the Emperor, discomfort rippled across my form as I struggled to push the rat inside.

Even without my giant two eyes, I could see through each of my scurrying parts a different angle, different view of the world like this. But, I didn’t look at Rattul. I didn’t want to see her reaction to me like this. I was just a filthy beast made of disease ridden, lesser intelligent rats that had been given sentience through some miracle by the Emperor. I had no reason to think any thoughts other than the command I was given, I had no reason to be anything but thankful for this grotesque form since it allowed me to breath, see, and live in a higher way than anyone else around here.

The rat wasn’t adhering to the center of my body well, and I was growing frustrated at the longer I was unstable. I didn’t want to look like this, I just wanted the stupid creature to go back in, all the others to move out of the way, and then I could be normal again and at least pretend like nothing ever happened.

“Get in… Get in…” My voice erupted from the illusion as it faded in and out. There was noise from across the room, and I could hear shoes scraping off the floor as Rattul approached me and shoved her hand inside of me.

“Sorry for this, but allow me to try.”

Although she had done it so brazenly, it didn’t hurt at all. Her small hand easily wiggled through my body and slid alongside my own arm, finding the rat she had saved and taking it from me. I retracted my hand weakly as she began to move it around.

“Is there where he goes?”

“Uh, a little bit more to the left.”

“Here?” She glanced up at me with an unreadable expression each time, “Or my left?”

“No, that’s fine, but first you have to-”

“Alright little guys, can you make space for your friend again? I want to see Cora happy again, okay?”

To my surprise, the rats all seemed to nod, and the previously packed space in the center parted to create a small chamber, and Rattul carefully set down the healed rat in the space before she pulled her arm out. The white sleeve of her coat was covered in mangy gray hair.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want you to see that ever.”

“Why?” She folded her hands behind her and cocked her head, “There’s nothing wrong with it, and besides, it could help me with my research.”

“I doubt the first sentient squids would ever take on a disturbing form like this.”

“Why not? Ratmilian is like you too, is he not?”

“He is, but it’s different… His form is mystical, it is beautiful, it is the original so it can never fall apart. I am just…” My heart sank as I began to remember his words to me, “…We are not him…We don’t know how to explain it in human tongue.”

Two hands came up to the sides of my head, brushing over the places where the bandages had once been, now two scars that made the hair patchy and thin, “No, you do. He just won’t let you. You’re your own person, you know that, right?”

My eyes widened, and I raised my head a bit, my giant form pulling her arms a little higher as she had to reach up on her toes to stay holding my head, “No, I’m not…. You heard what Ratmilian told me? I can’t be anything… I’m nothing-”

She slapped the sides of my snout now, rolling back down to stand flat on her feet as she pulled me close to her face and stared into my eyes with such a sharp gaze, “Cora, listen to me. Ratmilian is mistaken. He thinks he wants to know if these dumb squids can become sentient or not, but what he really wants to know, what he fears becoming true, is that my research will reveal that they are like you. He doesn’t care about how smart they are or if they can become that hive mind like his body is, and although you are modeled off of him I can see you are a much different person, a much different being than he is.  You are something. So please, stop saying that you aren’t.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, and then I broke the silence with a laugh. She seemed confused at first, but then I said, “Thank you, although I don’t think it’s appropriate to use the term ‘person’ when talking about a rat.”

She joined in on the laughter, and suddenly her hand was in mind, and she was twirling around under me, “You’re right there. Maybe ‘ratson’ then?”

“There was another word you used in your report. Persona? Perhaps ‘Ratsona’?” She giggled so loud and true that I became blind as she and I began to dance. It was magical, the way we just fell into one another’s forms, her hands molding gently into my rough, sharp and dangerous hands, and around the empty ballroom, we began to waltz. There was no music except the chimes from our laughter, no melody yet we fell into the perfect step pattern as our hearts beat with elation.

It wasn’t meant to last.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Despite her words, I should’ve known that everything that was happening was too good for a monster like me. Even as I began to accept her words, a dark part of my heart continued to whisper to me that she was wrong, foolish, that I would hurt her. It was one hundred percent right.

In the middle of our waltz, we stopped, as she hair had gotten frazzled in a turn and she was frantically trying to blow it out of the way to see. Taking a risk, I let go of her hand and reached forward, using the back of my hand to brush it back behind her ear, and as she looked at me with such warmth, I melted, and so did everything else.

Suddenly, my arm erupted into noise and motion, my body fell apart as several rats jumped out of the form and onto Rattul’s shoulder and head. At first, she eyed them with curiosity, breathing out a nervous laugh as they began to climb all over her, but then she quickly became panicked when I pulled away and began to vibrate, reaching out to me as the rats began to circle around her neck.

“Cora? Cora! What’s happening? Are you okay? What are they doing?! What’s happening-” She shouted as the rats suddenly stopped and began to form a tight ring around her neck and sunk in, suffocating her. And that was when I realized I had backed away at all.

My arm was still held out to her, the rats were still a part of me. My claws were choking her.

“You’re just a monster.”

I released her like a hot coal had burned me the moment I saw her face begin to turn blue. She fell in a heap on the floor, coughing and hacking as she carefully felt her neck and the bruising that was beginning to form. Her head lifted up to look at me as she heard the nails on my feet tapping against the floor.

“Cora, wait-”

I dashed away, leaving her alone in the throne room. Later I would send my servants to go help her get home, but they would report back in that she had already disappeared. When I went back to the ballroom to sit on my throne many hours later, the envelope would still be there, only there was new writing on the back of it.

The words “I forgive you” would forever haunt me.

It took me two weeks before I worked up the courage to go visit the lab again. I didn’t want to have to face her, but she wasn’t sending reports, and if I didn’t continue monitoring her progress, I feared the wrath of the Emperor being much more painful than last time. He might think Rattul was hiding something, or that I didn’t want him to discover the uprising that I had planned with the newly sentient squid. Either way, my servants had been reminding me enough so I decided the best plan of action was to walk in and pretend that nothing had happened between us.

What I was not prepared for was to find nothing at the lab.

While Rattul was almost always running around or her fellow scientists were scurrying by the tanks close to the door, upon entry at the back door, I saw nothing but green and blue tanks empty, the flickering white lighting of the warehouse, and noticed the absence of the hum of the many machines struggling to keep the squids alive. I walked in cautiously, wondering if someone had broken in, and if so, a part of me couldn’t help getting worked up about where Rattul was.

Where were the squids? She wouldn’t have run off with the research, would she? That would be an instant death sentence if she was found, and leaving the city was a massive “no” as they would have checked her and the scientists cargo and instantly stop them. Ratmilian would be told what had been found, and then they all would get sent to the capital, and then end up sliced up for their disobedience.

Rattul wouldn’t make that mistake, would she?

Or did I simply scare her that badly, I had to wonder…

I continued to walk along the various tanks, all seeing the same thing. Some of them were completely empty and clear, dark and turned off, while others still had their colorful, glowing hue as they were full of water but just devoid of marine life. I reached the center of the lab, and paused at one tank, black and murky. This was the contaminated one.

I was surprised that they hadn’t cleaned it yet. Surely there couldn’t still be squid living inside of this, I thought. Rattul and the rest of her team had stopped feeding them after considering them a lost cause. Why had they persisted on keeping it dirty and contaminated at all then?

I almost continued on, walking past that red metal staircase when I saw something twinkling at me out of the corner of my eye. I turned around, and immediately my eyes zeroed in on something reflecting from above the tank, on the catwalk.

It was the metal clip of her clipboard. Beside it, a single shoe.

It took less than five seconds for my brain to piece together what had happened. The next thing I knew, I was punching the glass, shattering it into a billion pieces as the inky water came pouring out all over the lab, carrying flailing squid and whatever else had fallen inside out. The last thing to ride on the ink wave, falling to rest at the bottom of the tank, was Rattul’s body.

Her skin had turned somewhat gray, her lab coat had absorbed the most of the ink, the white was freshly stained black because it continued to seep into my own fur coat as I picked her up and carefully cradled her in my arms. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. I see you :

“Who hurt you? Who did this to you?” I whispered, my voice coming out in squeaks instead of words. I was stunned, seeing her in such a state. I heard noise clamoring as a door was slammed open behind me.

“Rat King Cora, your highness! Rattul disappeared and we-”

The cowardly scientists. The ones that had never had the guts to do or say anything in my presence. They had always hid behind Rattul or jumped away from me. If they had seen her fall, they wouldn’t have had the speed or the strength to heave her out.

I turned around to face them, Rattul in my arms. The one scientist in the front looked up at me, jittering and shaking.

“Oh, so she was in the t-tank? We hadn’t seen her for days- we had to wonder if-”

There was only one of them. I had seen no cars out front. They lived in this facility, they had nowhere they needed to go. Even if they had seen Rattul’s shoe, I wish they had the competence to clean up after their mess. A part of me wanted to hope that perhaps it was an honest mistake, but there was too much happening, and the lack of surprise on the man’s face combined with the missing everything just said too much to my muddled brain.

My spine and my skin began to turn, I became larger, more monstrous as I hunched my back and towered over the small man, my jaw gaping wide, sharp jagged teeth oozing a terrible stench as I salivated over him, “You did this. You hurt Rattul.”

The rest of the scientists came running to the door, all of them freezing when they saw me.

“Your highness, we’re sorry for lying. We were going to tell you but-”

“Incompetent fools!” I boomed as I took my first strike. With Rattul held close to my chest, I cut across six of the men, sending them flying into walls and the other tanks. I was seeing white, hot white across all of my vision as I let my body rumble and several pieces of me run out to tear them men apart.

I stomped over to one of the screaming men, the noise guiding me through my rampage, “You did this! You let her die! You were stealing her research! You didn’t do anything to help her!”

“We can explain! Please, please, oh god, please stop this!” One of them wailed, until my head came down on his skull. There was noise by the door now, metal unlocking as they frantically tried to get outside. I sent more of me running out. I could feel my energy pulsating as the anger coursed through me.

“It doesn’t matter. You did this.”

Later I would realize how primal my brain had reverted to. A beast’s mentality the only thoughts that were swirling through my head were men bad. Rattul dead. Man’s fault.  When I awoke to Rattul groaning to life later, I would realize that we were in a bloodbath of bodies submerged in a thin puddle of ink water, and that this would not look good on my behalf, no matter what I tried to say. My rats had come back to me, and the complete reforming had left me exhausted, the strange pulsations I had felt radiating from my body unfamiliar but not unwelcome. I went into the back room to find Rattul’s things, and a wave of guilt came over me when I saw many of the squid specimens in the back, in smaller tanks surrounded by notes written in someone’s frantic handwriting. It wasn’t Rattul’s.

The dates on the paper implied Rattul had been in there for days. An accident, they had witness her falling in when she decided to salvage what was left inside the tank for other research. The notes claimed that the others had tried to rescue her, but noticed a peculiar reaction happening, and decided to drop her back in. They had grabbed all the other data from their tank and began to dissect in order to better predict what they could do or what they could expect if Rattul survived the process. I had appeared just when they had started to piece together something. The notes cut off there.

I looked down at Rattul. Color was returning to her, as my fur had rubbed off most of the ink spotting her skin, and she had started showing more signs of life during my reforming, so I reasoned that whatever that power running off of me was, it must have jolted her somehow as well. Still, after days of being in that tank, she didn’t quite look like Rattul, and she didn’t quite look human.

As I was holding her, a clumpy of her wet hair snapped off of her head, slopping to the floor before it wriggled away, almost alive.

I couldn’t let her see what had happened here. If I did, she would surely hate me.

With those thoughts in mind, I went back into the main room, and out the door.

She let out a few sickly coughs the longer she was exposed to the sea breeze, and together we walked back to the castle in the rain.

[quicksilversquared]

How to Fake A Marriage Ch. 28

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(AO3) (FF.net)

Ben had been right about the number of research papers and other writing assignments that Adrien had for his second semester of classes. The two of them had spent one tutoring session inspecting all of the rubrics that Adrien had been handed in his first few days of the semester and putting together a rough schedule of where he should be for all of his papers and projects at certain points in the semester. It wasn't nearly as overwhelming broken down like that, but Adrien still pushed himself to get ahead of the schedule, spending all of his days finding research papers that he could reference whenever he wasn't in class.

The twinge in his back that had popped up during his first semester got worse. Adrien spent several minutes every hour trying to twist and stretch it out before returning to his readings, but it only alleviated the ache for a little while.

The extra work early on in the semester was going to be worth it, in the end. Adrien wasn't sure that Ben had taken into account the fact that it took him a bit longer than most of his classmates to read the research papers and articles that he was using, since they were largely in English instead of French, so really, he was just putting the extra work now to make sure that he would be on schedule later on.

Adrien wasn't the only one who was intensely busy. Marinette had gotten a fair number of inquiries about commissions after Jagged Stone's album dropped and it got out that she had designed covers and dressed several other singers and bands, and she had spent several hours responding to those emails once the holidays were over. A surprising number of the inquiries had been dropped after Marinette informed people about her prices (and Adrien had to grin remembering Marinette's infuriated spluttering whenever someone complained and tried to counter with a much lower price offer; she had blocked several people instead of replying, since her reply probably would have included a bit of rather unprofessional swearing), but there were a couple more bands that had reached out with legitimate requests and they were completely willing to pay Marinette's prices. Adrien had spotted his girlfriend creating some sort of spreadsheet to keep track of the requests before diving in to her first round of preliminary sketches.

(The sketches that he had seen so far were really cool.)

"Are you still reading that stupid paper?"

Adrien sighed as Plagg's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see his kwami lurking behind him, looking utterly bored. "It's not stupid, it's a highly researched and peer-reviewed paper. And no, I was, uh..."

"Daydreaming about your wife?" Plagg jeered, grinning and spinning around Adrien's head. "She'll be home soon enough and then you'll get to see her face then."

Adrien rolled his eyes, trying not to blush. "That's not- never mind." A pause. "And she's not my wife. Yet."

Plagg gagged loudly and Adrien aimed a swat at him. "Did you need something, or did you just come over to annoy me?"

"Cheese!"

Adrien groaned- he should have known- and hopped up to go fetch Plagg's snack. He had to roll his neck to get the crimps out of it, and something cracked loudly. Adrien cringed- that didn't sound good- but at least it seemed that he hadn't injured anything. Plagg wasn't paying him any attention, too busy zipping impatiently around the fridge and rambling on about what kind of cheese he was most in the mood for.

Naturally.

Once Plagg was settled down with a variety plate, Adrien headed back to the table and woke his computer back up so he could resume reading his way through the paper's summary to see if it was something he could use. He was just working his way through the introduction and taking notes on some of the things they mentioned when hands slid over his shoulders and started massaging. Adrien sat back with a purr, letting his head loll back far enough to see Marinette and Tikki behind him.

"Working hard, kitten?" Marinette asked. Her hand slid over his shoulder and under his jaw, tilting his head back so she could kiss him. "How was class?"

"It was interesting," Adrien told her. "I had my class about space today, and that's my favorite. And the lab class was pretty good, too. And then I got together with Ben for an hour and a half to talk about my Electromagnetics class. That one is a doozy to try to keep up with."

Marinette could only smile and nod at that. Adrien grinned. He knew that she tried to keep up with what he was talking about in his classes, she really did, but she hadn't had any math or science classes since back in lycée and he had gotten to some seriously higher-level stuff. The fact that she was willing to sit and listen to him rambling on about some theorem or another when he got excited about something was amazing, it really was. She could be completely lost but she wouldn't interrupt him or try to change the topic. She even tried to ask questions about whatever it was that he was talking about, which proved that she actually listened, even if she couldn't follow what he was saying at all.

It was more than Adrien could have ever said about his father. Even with the topic was one of his photoshoots, Mr. Agreste only ever listened with one ear at most.

Adrien let himself relax as Marinette's hands worked magic on his shoulders and neck. She wasn't a professional or anything at it- her hands had a tendency to wander a little aimlessly, and sometimes they wandered into his hair and petted him for a few minutes instead before going back to massaging his shoulders- but it still felt fantastic.

"What about you?" Adrien asked after a further few minutes of massaging. "How was your day?"

Marinette grinned. "Oh, it was good. We did a few collab designs, and they turned out pretty well. There were a few silk-and-leather combinations, and I think one of them might make the runway."

"Oh, cool."

"And I heard from Alya, too," Marinette added. "She's still gloating that she got her Ladynoir interview before Mrs. Chamack. Apparently the traffic on the Ladyblog has been higher than it has been in years."

Adrien tried his best not to laugh at the smug look on Marinette's face. Mrs. Chamack hadn't gotten any interview from the superheroes about their newly-confirmed relationship at all, while the duo had specifically orchestrated their 'patrol' to run into Alya and talk to her. Adrien suspected that Marinette was perhaps still a little bit sore about the woman interrogating Ladybug and Chat Noir about their relationship status so often and putting them on the spot in her studio the few times they came in.

(Also, he wasn't going to argue with her about that. Alya, overeager as she could be at times, could apparently recognize when to back off with her questions. Madam Chamack, driven by gossip-focused ratings, would push and push until the superheroes snapped and took their leave abruptly, and that never reflected terribly well on them.)

"And she's obsessing over the contest forms again," Marinette added. She looked much less smug about that, and Adrien had to try not to laugh at her exasperated expression. "And getting all of her research summarized and organized. There's some things that she has to leave out for space, and she keeps wondering if she should try to shorten her other sections so she can fit little details back in."

"Doesn't she get to submit a more lengthy summary of her research if she gets to the later stages of the contest?" Adrien wanted to know. "I thought that was what she said at Christmas. And she knows that it'll be a better idea to focus on the users that she does know a lot about and has gotten a lot of research done for right away. If she just does little odds and ends on everyone, the committee might think that that's all she can find and it isn't worth the money to send her places."

Marinette gasped. "Oh! Yeah, that's exactly what she needs to hear. Hold on a second, I have to text her that." Her hands left his shoulders, and Adrien mourned. "I don't mind hearing about her progress, of course, and I don't mind offering my opinion to help her, but all the back and forth and second-guessing herself is starting to drive me a little crazy."

Adrien couldn't blame her. Now that she mentioned it, he remembered a series of texts from Nino groaning about how Alya kept pestering him with questions about things that they had already discussed. She kept second-guessing and running herself in circles with worry.

Hopefully Alya would calm down soon. It wouldn't do her any good to be stressing out and potentially ruining a perfectly good application.

"Did anything else interesting happen today?" Adrien asked after Marinette's phone had returned to her pocket and her hands had returned to kneading his shoulders. He was startled when she suddenly groaned.

"I got another idiot trying to get a commission," Marinette said, sounding suddenly grouchy. "Someone who wanted something ridiculously fancy for a ridiculously low price. I told them how much it would actually cost, not that I would actually accept them when I have so many other things to do, and then they sent back a message accusing me of highway robbery. There were some curse words, so I blocked them." She groaned. "I just have to hope that none of these idiots start complaining to Madam Rosalie about me, but I suppose she wouldn't take them seriously."

"How are these people getting your email in the first place?" Adrien asked, completely baffled. "Do you have, like, a website for commissions that I don't know about or something?"

Marinette shook her head. "No, I don't. If I did, I bet I'd never get any rest from answering emails. Most of the legit inquiries I get are from bands and singers that probably just asked Jagged Stone how to get in contact with me. Everyone else got my work email from the company website. A couple of those inquiries were legit, but most are just idiots who expect an original designer piece to only cost as much as something from a department store. And a cheap department store, at that."

"Could you ask to have your email removed from the company page?" Adrien suggested. "It sounds like it might be a problem to have it up."

Marinette shook her head. "I have to have it up. And there's fewer people bugging me every week. It really wouldn't do much at this point."

Adrien hoped that she was right. He didn't like the idea of people calling Marinette names or trying to cause problems for her just because she dared demand that she be paid fairly for her work.

(He wasn't going to lie- if someone actually did cause trouble for her, he wouldn't hesitate to transform and show up on the idiot's doorstep with a few choice words for them. No one messed with his Lady and got away with it.)

"And I suppose I really shouldn't worry at all about people emailing Madam Rosalie," Marinette continued, oblivious to Adrien's mental plans of destruction. "If they mention pricing at all, she would just laugh at them. She's been there before, back when she was just starting out. And she helped me set my prices too, her and Mrs. Kelly. Otherwise I probably would have set stuff too low, and that's no good when establishing a customer base."

"Are all of your customers bands, then? Or are there some individuals, too?"

"It's all bands or singers. Any private individuals who wanted me to design something ended up being idiots about the price, or at least they just dropped the idea when I gave them base price estimations." Apparently done for now with her massaging, Marinette finally sat down at the table next to Adrien and pulled her tablet out of her bag. The protective cover for it had come in the mail just over a week after Christmas, and Marinette had picked out a leafy pattern. It was really pretty, and more importantly, Marinette loved it. Adrien glanced over her shoulder as she powered it up and caught sight of an in-progress album cover. It was darker and had more black and grey than she ever did with Jagged Stone's albums, but it still screamed rock, or maybe metal. It looked really cool. "And I'm busy enough that I think I would just accept bands at this point anyway. They kind of provide free advertisement."

"Hopefully that's the last of that kind of requester, then." With one last glance at the paper he had been perusing and his notes, Adrien stood up and stretched. His back let out a loud crack, making Marinette jump. He gave her a sheepish grin as he headed into the kitchen, shrugging when she looked concerned.

His back cracking had actually felt kind of good. It relieved some of the painful pressure that had built up over the afternoon. Adrien twisted and stretched again, and this time was rewarded with a series of pops.

Much better.

Adrien started work on dinner as Marinette worked on her commission. He paused often to glance over at his girlfriend as she worked, her brow gently furrowed as she added details to the piece. Tikki alternately perched on Marinette's shoulder and flew around the room, occasionally popping into the kitchen to check on Adrien and snag a cookie from the jar that Marinette had sitting on the counter. Plagg napped on the window ledge, curled up in the last dying ray of sun.

Adrien spooned the casserole mixture he had been working on into a pan and slid it into the oven before sticking his head back out into the living room area. Marinette had left the table and was kneeling on the floor, cutting out some pattern pieces from her special patterning paper.

"Done with the cover art?" Adrien asked. That was fast. Marinette had gotten a lot of the piece done, sure, but he hadn't thought that she would be able to finish it so fast.

Much to his surprise, Marinette shook her head. "No, not yet. There's still a bit of work to be done with sharpening up some of the shadows and contrast, but I can do that whenever. I just figured that I should get some of the outfit work done while I'm at home."

Adrien nodded and headed back into the kitchen to chop up some fruit for a salad. Tikki swooped down to steal a few pieces before Adrien tipped everything into a bowl and stuck it in the fridge.

"Your dietician would be proud of you for eating healthy," she told him as she settled down on the counter. "It's hard to when you first move out, I know. I've heard people complaining about not wanting to make more dishes just so they could have a fruit salad, and that they would rather just stick to the main dish."

Adrien grinned and raised his voice slightly so he could be sure that Marinette would hear. "I see. And would I be correct in assuming that by people you mean Marinette?"

The "Hey!" from the other room came in loud and clear. Adrien's grin widened and Tikki giggled.

"That's exactly what I meant," Tikki whispered loudly. "Whenever she was on a designing kick, she wouldn't take the time to eat right if she wasn't eating at the same time as her parents! And then she was starting to do the same thing when she came here, before you moved to London."

"What is she telling you, Adrien?" Marinette demanded from the next room over. "Don't believe any of it!"

Adrien just laughed.

It wasn't long before dinner was done and he was pulling it out of the oven. Plagg had finally moved, his ray of sunlight long gone and the windowsill now a bit chilly. Now he was situated on top on the back of the stove, munching on a slice of Gruyere and relishing in the heat floating up.

Adrien set the table as the dish cooled a little so it would set, then waited until Marinette had sat up from her work before interrupting. She had moved on from the patterning paper to cutting actual fabric, and he didn't want to startle her and make her cut something wrong. "Bugaboo, dinner is ready."

Marinette set her rotary cutter aside and popped up. "Really? Great!"

It didn't take long at all to eat, and then Adrien shooed Marinette off to keep working while he cleaned up. It was a fairly transparent attempt to avoid his papers for just a bit longer, but Marinette didn't tease him about it at all. It wasn't that long of a delay- having done some of the washing-up while waiting for the casserole to bake had that effect- and then Adrien was settling back down in front of his computer to finish reading and taking notes on the paper he had been partway through when Marinette arrived home. He had just finished with that and was about to open the next paper (this time the paper was thankfully in French, which would make reading it just a bit quicker) when he remembered something that he wanted to ask Marinette.

Adrien turned around in his chair, once again waiting until Marinette's scissors and her fabric were no longer in contact before saying anything. "Hey, Marinette?"

Marinette sat back on her heels, glancing over. "Yeah?"

"What would you think about having Ben over for dinner some night?" Adrien asked. "I'd cook, of course. But I just realized earlier today that I've been talking about him for months but you two haven't ever met."

"Oh, sure!"

"He's got a lot of interesting stories to tell," Adrien said, spinning around in his chair to straddle it backwards and watch Marinette instead of going back to reading his paper. Marinette had gone back to cutting out pieces of fabric, but she was clearly still listening. "Since he took a gap year and all. And his family always traveled when he was a kid." He grinned. "They apparently went to France one year, so he was trying to tell me about it in French. And, uh, I appreciated the enthusiasm and all, but he hasn't taken French classes or practiced at all for, like, five or six years." He grinned at the memory. Ben had tried, he really had, but the story had finally ended up being told in a strange mix of French and English. "Maybe he can try again when he comes over. Will any time in the next, say, two-ish weeks work?"

"Any day except next Thursday," Marinette said, and Adrien frowned. Had he missed something going on at Marinette's work? He had thought that he knew everything that was going on at Madam Rosalie's.

"Wait, what's next Thursday?"

Plagg snickered. Tikki looked appalled. Marinette just gave him a Look.

"Adrien?"

"Yeah?"

"Next Thursday is Valentine's Day."

  Adrien and Marinette's Valentine's Day stay-in date ended up being planned half by Marinette and half by Adrien. Once he realized that the holiday was approaching (and how he had forgotten, he really had no idea) Adrien had wanted to be the one to plan it. After all, he did technically tend to have more free time than Marinette, since he was only at school for a couple hours a day and could easily move his study sessions and homework to other days, and he had romantic ideas practically bubbling out of his head. But Marinette hadn't been content to let him do all of the work, so they finally agreed that he would cook dinner and she would make dessert and they would both contribute to the decorations in their (well, technically still just his) apartment.

Adrien called dibs on the music soundtrack, though. He knew what songs he wanted to play, and he knew Marinette's favorite songs, and he had spent several hours brainstorming with Tikki while Marinette worked on her latest commissions. It had turned out well, he thought, mixing soft romantic music with music that was a little more their style but that still had a definite love theme.

And once they got everything set out and prepared, their Valentine's date was definitely romantic. Marinette had somehow managed to get a large vase of roses and baby's breath flowers smuggled into the building (she swore up and down that there was no chance that any reporters could have found out, but she refused to tell him how she had managed that), and Adrien set out cookie-scented candles around the room and set up a lovely red tablecloth and fancy place settings. They both dressed up, and then sat down to a steak dinner.

(The kwamis agreed to stay out of the way in Marinette's apartment, accompanied by a large wheel of cheese and a stack of cookies.)

Thankfully, it had turned out perfectly. Adrien had been really worried about accidentally under- or over-cooking it. His cooked vegetable medley- a recipe that he had gotten from his family's chef over the break- turned out just as well.

"You know, if someone told fifteen-year-old me that you would be able to cook so well, I wouldn't have believed them," Marinette told Adrien as she polished off her last few bites. "Remember that time that you and Nino tried to make snacks for one of our study sessions back in our first year of lycée?"

Adrien groaned. "Don't remind me. Oh, those were awful. We definitely screwed something up when we were mixing up that dip, and who even knows where we went wrong with the mini pizzas. I'm so glad that we had prepackaged stuff that we could still snack on, or that would have been a long study session." He polished off the last of his vegetables, dragging one of the potatoes along the plate to wipe up the last of the sauce. "I'm glad that Alya was willing to teach me how to cook. I hated not knowing what I was doing when we were cooking. And I like being able to actually eat what I make."

"You learned well," Marinette told him. "I know some people who got taught and still can only make the basics. This?" She gestured at her now-empty plate. "This is far, far more than the basics."

Adrien preened.

"Do we want dessert right away?" Marinette asked several minutes later as Adrien brought their dishes out to the kitchen. "Or do we want to have a break first and let dinner settle?"

"Let things settle, I think. Then I can fit in more of your amazing chocolate cake." Adrien made sure that all of the dishes were out and what needed to be soaking was filled with water and soap, and then he headed back towards the table. On the way, he snagged the heart-shaped box of chocolate that he had picked up on his way home from school and the smaller box that he had wrapped earlier in the day. "Besides, I wanted to give you something before we have our dessert."

Marinette twisted in her seat to watch him and her eyes went wide when she saw the box. "Adrien..."

"I couldn't go and buy anything fancy," Adrien assured her as he pushed the box of chocolates and the small box on top of it across the table. "I'm pretty sure people would notice if I went to a jewelry store or something. But I couldn't go completely without any gifts."

"I don't need anything fancy," Marinette assured him. "Or any gifts, really. The drawing tablet you got me for Christmas was already more than enough. And spending time with you is a gift, too."

Adrien grinned over at her. "I know. But I wanted to get you something. What kind of cat would I be if I didn't get you a present?"

Marinette paused, hand hovering over the small wrapped box, and gave Adrien a deeply suspicious look. "Why do I get the sudden feeling that I know what this is?"

He just pasted on his most innocent look. "I'm sure I don't know what you might be talking about."

Sighing, Marinette pulled the wrapping off and opened the box. Inside, a dove-shaped bar of soap sat among pale pink tissue paper. She lifted it up and sniffed, then looked pleased. "It smells like baking spices! Cinnamon and nutmeg and-" another deep breath- "and allspice. I love it! Thanks, kitty."

"I spent a couple days hunting that down," Adrien told her, delighting in Marinette's loud groan. "But I couldn't show up empty-pawed."

"Adrien."

He just grinned at her, unrepentant. The soap had been a great find and he was totally going to stock up on more of them before they left London, just to be sure that he would have them for presents for years to come, because watching Marinette groan and roll her eyes while trying not to laugh was never going to get old.

"I do love it, even if you're ridiculous," Marinette said again, setting the box back down and leaning over to kiss him. "And I have something for you, too. I managed to find the time to make it at work during one of my breaks, and I think you'll like it." She handed over a shoebox-sized box wrapped in what looked like homemade paper, with hearts and cats stamped all over light pink paper. It was adorable, and Adrien did his best to not rip it as he opened the box. Something made with cat-patterned fabric sat inside, and Adrien picked it up curiously. It was stuffed with something small and grainy, and Adrien looked to Marinette for an explanation.

"It's a heating pad," Marinette explained. "Filled with rice, because that seemed to be the best thing to use. You stick it in the microwave for a minute and then put it on your back, or your neck, or your lap, or whatever you want. I know you like heat, and I thought it might be nice to use on cold days or just to curl up with. And they're really good for back aches, too."

"I love it!" Adrien was always planning ways to use it. Maybe he could stick it in his bed to warm the sheets up before he slid in when he went to bed before Marinette, or just hang out with it on the couch, or use it when he had sat at the table for too long doing homework and his back started to hurt. The cat pattern was adorable, and- Adrien unrolled it- yeah, he hadn't been seeing things. The fabric on the back side of the heating pad was green with little red ladybugs scattered all over.

It was Ladybug and Chat Noir themed, and he loved it even more.

"I know I've loved heated blankets when I've had them on tour, and this is gonna be like a miniature heated blanket," Adrien continued happily. "Thank you! And it's so cute, too."

Marinette was grinning. "I knew I had to use those patterns as soon as I saw them," she said. "They're just perfect for us. And I got more fabric of both just to make sure that I would have some for whatever other projects I might want to do in the future. These kinds of patterns have an annoying habit of being discontinued right after I discover them."

Adrien tried not to laugh at the grumpy expression she made at her words. He had to wonder how many times she found the perfect fabric for something, only to have it vanish before she could buy it. At least at Madam Rosalie's, she could just make the perfect fabric on demand.

...well, it was probably a little more complicated than that, but from what Adrien could tell, Marinette could have free rein with fabric design if she so desired, and she had regularly been designing patterns for her team's pieces.

The evening continued with them spending some time snuggled together on the couch, talking about everything and nothing all at once. It was comfortable and warm, even if it wasn't too terribly different than what they did normally. After twenty minutes of that, Marinette pulled Adrien up so they could dance to the music still playing from the speakers Adrien had set up. They waltzed around the cramped space in the living room, sometimes turning a little sharper than normal to avoid hitting the chairs or the couch.

"The carpet is messing me up," Adrien said with a laugh as his shoe snagged a bit on the carpet and sent him tripping into Marinette for the third time that night. A second later, he was catching Marinette as she tripped over her heels. "We really need a proper hardwood floor to dance like this really well."

"I also need to know how to dance for us to be dancing really well, but details," Marinette teased him as she righted herself. The song ended and she led the way back to the table. "I haven't had the fancy-pants training that you've had. My hold is probably all wrong or something."

She was right, but Adrien wasn't about to go full nerd on her and admit it. "Have you been watching too much of that dancing show on TV again? Because that sounds like a comment that one of their judges would make."

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him instead of responding, effectively distracting Adrien for several minutes. When they finally separated several minutes later, he had more or less forgotten what they had been talking about. His distraction was fully completed when Marinette promptly headed into the kitchen to fetch the cake she had made and served it up with a generous scoop of ice cream.

It was a lava-style cake, rich and fudgy and fluffy all at the same time. Adrien hummed happily as he let the first bite melt in his mouth. Clearly it had been a good idea to agree to let Marinette make the dessert. As always, she did not disappoint.

"I was going to put heart-shaped sprinkles on top, but the store had sold out," Marinette told him as they ate. She made a slight face. "I thought that I had looked plenty early, but apparently everyone in London really wanted heart sprinkles for Valentine's Day."

Adrien laughed. He couldn't help it, she just looked so disgruntled. "It's plenty tasty without sprinkles, bugaboo."

"It just would have been good for color," Marinette grumbled. She stabbed her fork into her cake and took a bite. Her expression immediately smoothed out and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the cake. Adrien grinned.

Marinette would probably never comment like he often did about how good the cake was because that was all she was used to, but he knew that she always enjoyed her own baking.

The candles flickered lower as they finished up their desserts. Adrien scraped the bottom of his bowl, trying to get up every last delicious crumb before they brought their dishes into the kitchen.

(He would have licked his bowl, but he had been raised better than that. Besides, there were plenty of leftovers for them to have other days.)

"I haven't heard anything from Alya today," Marinette commented as they washed up their dishes. She giggled. "I'm guessing that Nino managed to distract her from the contest at long last."

"I'm just glad that the entries were due yesterday," Adrien said. He took the newly-washed plate from her and started drying it. "It's too bad the deadline was so close to Valentine's Day. You would think that they might put it a bit sooner since, y'know, Valentine's and all. People can't plan as well if they're stressing over entering."

"I think it has something to do with the contest people not wanting to have to deal with having to wade through the entries before Valentine's Day," Marinette joked. "If they have the contest closing date on the 13th, then they don't have to read anything before the 14th, and they won't be distracted on Valentine's Day thinking about the entries."

Adrien let out a hum of thought. Part of him wanted to laugh at Marinette's joking theory, but upon second thought... well, she might be right. He had seen how obsessed Alya could get when she found a topic that she found intriguing, and from what he could tell, it was a common trait among reporters. He could see where the contest council members might get distracted by some of the more original ideas being presented, and that might keep them from being able to fully focus on whoever they were spending Valentine's Day with.

Well, if they were spending the day with someone. He knew that not everyone paid attention to Valentine's Day (he certainly hadn't before this year), so maybe the unfortunate timing was just due to the organizers not really paying attention to the significance of the date.

"Either way, I'm glad that the contest is closed now and I won't wake up to fifteen messages from Alya asking about wording for a specific section or whether or not she should include some specific detail," Marinette said. She put the pot she had just washed in the drying rack and reached for the last plate. "I mean, I understood, because this is such a big opportunity, but I've never seen her so anxious. Also, I'm not the one with a degree in writing! How was I supposed to know which wording was better?"

"I had thought that she had been planning on having everything ready and entering as soon as the contest opened this year," Adrien said. Maybe he had misunderstood, but he was almost positive that Alya hadn't wanted to wait until last minute to enter. And then instead of entering, she spent the two-week entry period fiddling around with her submission, changing word order and fiddling with the details. "But so much for that. Hopefully she wins this year so she doesn't have to go through that again."

Marinette giggled. "Hopefully she wins this year so that she doesn't find all there is to discover before she can even leave Paris. Because she's going to, at the rate she's going."

"She really has been discovering a lot." Even if Alya had been focusing mainly on getting things organized and formatted correctly to enter the contest ever since the Christmas holidays, that hadn't meant that she hadn't found anything new. A few more historians had responded to her inquiries (apparently having the Ladyblog on her resume had been a large help in spurring them to respond), and they had each had found something of interest. The biggest discovery, according to Alya, had been what had to be an ancient Ladybug and her partner. The Chat Noir at the time had been elsewhere, and the Ladybug had been paired with what Alya said had to be another user. It sounded like it had been a Bee, just based on the color scheme.

It was the first time in months that Alya had found a new type of Miraculous holder. Adrien would not be surprised if the next few months were filled with a careful combing-through of everything she had found over the last year and a half to try to find any signs of other Bees throughout history.

"So what do you want to do after we finish this?" Adrien asked after drying a few more dishes. "A game before bed, maybe? A movie?" He flashed an impish grin at Marinette and wriggled his eyebrows, letting his voice drop into Chat Noir's suave purr. "Or purr-haps the Lady is feline more like going straight to the bedroom?"

Marinette's jaw dropped and she gave him an absolutely incredulous look. "Are you seriously trying to pick me up with cat puns?"

Adrien grinned. He could practically feel the indignation rolling off of her, and it was hilarious. "Mewby."

"I have half a mind to splash you," Marinette threatened, waving soapy fingers in his direction. "If it weren't for the fact that I don't want to get your suit wet, I would."

"And I would splash you back, but I really don't want to accidentally get that gorgeous dress stained." Adrien ducked down and pressed a kiss to Marinette's cheek. "We should have a date sometime where we just, like, don't get dressed up at all. We could wear pajamas and order takeout and play board games and splash each other all we want."

Marinette lit up. "Oh, that sounds amazing."

(Adrien absently wondered if he could get away with ordering onesies for both of them for the date. Marinette might not be happy with him if he did, but she would be so. cute. in a red-spotted or cat-themed adult onesie and it would be so worth it.)

"I know we don't really have much in the way of games over here except for video games and cards, but I bet I could borrow a couple things from my coworkers," Marinette said, clearly excited. The last bowl dangled from one hand, clearly forgotten. "I could just say that we want to have a game night, so they don't think date. And we could make popcorn, and- okay, now I'm just planning our next date when we're still in the middle of our Valentine's Day date."

Adrien laughed. "Oh, I'm glad that you like the idea." He tapped her hand, reminding her about the dish she still held. Marinette eeped and hurried to rinse it off and hand it over to Adrien. "So what do you say? Game? Movie? None of the above?"

"I'd be up to a short rom-com before finishing our date," Marinette decided after a moment. "If you want, of course."

"I suppose it would be a good idea to let our lovely meal digest a bit before we lie down," Adrien agreed. He put the last bowl away and dried his hands before holding a hand out to Marinette. "Let's go find a movie to watch, my Lady."

[tartareus]

holy water cannot help you now

wilhelmina black’s file

MINA ( skepticdemonologist )

here’s the draft of mina’s file. her complete bio is still a work in progress && so is my characterization of her. 

fandom: horror rp

preferences: plotted threads, memes, starter calls

shipping:  highly selective

GENERAL INFORMATION.

full name: wilhelmina black

nickname:  mina, willie, winnie (only her granmother called her that), professor black

age:  somewhere round 60 \ verse dependent

date of birth: june 6th

date of death: tba

place of birth: salem, massachusetts, usa

zodiac:  gemini

gender: non binary, uses female pronoun

nationality:  american

religion: non believer

orientation: demisexual

relationship status: widowed

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

face claim: sigourney weaver

height: 6'0

hair color: dark brown

eye color: chocolate brown

tattoos: n/a

distinguishing marks:  sharp jawline; a small birth mark on her right ribs that looks as if beelzebub’s seal was burnt against her skin

clothing style: suits, coats and genderless clothes.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

spoken languages: english, latin (although she does not speak it fluently, only a few rituals and incantations) ; demoniac (however, she doesn’t even know that )

financial status: middle class

education level: PhD in demonology

occupation:   chief of the theology department in salem’s university

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

mother: lilian black ( neé sinclair )

father: adam black ( beelzebub )

siblings: n/a ; horde of demons

children: none

BIOGRAPHY

         tba

VERSES

as most characters found here, MINA is multiverse & multiship; crossovers & other ocs are more than welcomed !!

CANON VERSES

( VERSE 1 ) ---------- make hell of heaven; after the death of her husband, mina discovers secret journals of his, connecting him to a satanic cult that still active on salem. skeptical, she shrugs it off. however, as her birthday approaches, a strange series of hauntings start to happen around her. secrets are broken once she sees the possession of her best friend by beelzebub himself, who tells her the truth of her being. upon finding out that her entire life was a lie and that moth her mother and husband were her keepers, mina dives deeper into this mess seeking answeres. 

( VERSE 2 ) ----------  you can’t raise hell with the saints; after years working as a cover as professor, mina’s life takes a bad turn when an exorcism she performs goes horribly wrong and a prophecy is revealed: in the sixth day of the sixth month of that year, the anti christ would be born. in a frantic attempt to stop the apocalypse from happening, mina drops her job as a teacher and decides to hunt and track down the most clues she can find to locate the baby’s mother before it’s too late.

( VERSE 3 ) ----------  tba ; tba

AU VERSES

( VERSE 4 ) ----------  there's a bad moon on the rise; caos!verse. mina is a demon hunter that moves to greendale after the 13 incident.

( VERSE 5 ) ----------  tba   ; tba

( VERSE 6 ) ----------  tba ; tba

( VERSE 7 ) ----------  tba ; tba

EXTRA INFORMATIONS

as i write her, i’ll dump here some infos \ hcs that are important to know before approaching her.

she was named after william blake by her father adam, an english teacher, who was an avid fan of his works;

although she has no religious belief nor training whatsoever, mina is a talented conjurer and exorcist, on the other hand, however, she still refuses to practice possession.

mina’s soul is torn between two extremes: her powerful, demoniac side, that tempts her to follow her darkest thoughts and her mortal, human side, that has a solid sense of duty and justice.

the circunstances of her husband’s passing are...shady, to say the least, she later finds out that he was possessed by one of belial’s followers;

the rift in the cult both her mother and husband were members reflects the war that starts to brew in hell, with both beelzebub and belial trying to take lucifer’s place && rise as the king of hell, hence why it is mandatory that the anti christ dies before his birth;

mina’s twin was stillborn, his death was caused by umbilical cord strangulation, perhaps caused by mina’s demoniac half;

whilst she does not know how to control her gifts, mina discovers at young age that somehow, she can get any fly to do what she desires. it later comes in hand, when she works on her gift to the point where she is able to control a swarm of flies and, much later, even shape shift into one.

she has no plans of killing the unholy child, but she knows she has to put an end on this madness, the fact that she’s merely considering this eats her alive as it goes against her honour.

WARNINGS !

this character, although good hearted, belongs to a violent universe. her views \ actions are not the same as the mun. do expect violence, adult themes and toxic relationships\behaviours, mentions of rituals, occultism and satanism as well other religions to be mentioned \ played here. as usual, everything will be tagged accordingly so you can blacklist. i will simply delete anon hate.

CREDIT

this character belongs to me and the universe i’m slowly developing. i claim full ownership with the character yet no affiliation with the faceclaim here listed above. however, i do claim ownership of my personal headcanons written here as well my interpretation of the character. all rights go the actual owners

[nymandnunez45-blog]

What to Look For in a Divorce Lawyer - How to Select Wisely

With the changes in loved ones law in excess of the final 30 years, such as the adoption of equitable distribution in spot of the previous widespread-legislation principles, the adoption of rules guarding military spouses, and the adoption of support guidelines and various regional principles promulgated inside of the different circuits, the area of separation and divorce has turn into considerably way too difficult and specialized for an individual who does not regularly take care of these kinds of situations. It distresses us when consumers arrive to us with improperly drafted separation agreements, and/or decrees which other inexperienced lawyers have managed. Just as it is greater to win at demo than to have a excellent appeal problem, it is considerably greater to have the appropriate lawyer, a single who will get it right the first time, than to have to pay an individual to correct troubles stemming from problems manufactured in the 1st location. Occasionally the errors are extremely expensive and can not be set as demonstrated in the collection of articles I wrote for The Family members Legislation Information, a peer evaluation publication of the Virginia State Bar, Segment of Loved ones Legislation, entitled "Pricey Mistakes in Multi-Point out Army Divorce Or a Military Wife's Tale of Woe," which are released in the Fall 2007 and Spring 2008 issues of the publication. The series of articles outlines the authorized authorities, approach and procedural factors we employed to effectively protect a armed forces retiree, who was a veteran of the Vietnam War. His ex-wife was trying to get half of his armed forces retired spend and spousal assistance below in Virginia, in spite of obtaining divorced him six many years earlier in Hawaii. Whilst we are always content to accomplish a effective outcome for our consumers, we felt sorry for the ex-spouse, who experienced obtained bad legal suggestions from hr legal professional in the original divorce motion in Hawaii, guidance that direct to bad selections which the Virginia Court docket located to bind her completely. In ruling for us in the scenario, the choose instructed the ex-wife that as an alternative of suing her ex-spouse, show need to go after the lawyer in Hawaii who represented her in the divorce. So, how do you go about discovering a great divorce attorney? Listed here are a few suggestions: Recommendation #one-Inquire a Law firm If you know a lawyer, ask him/her for a referral to a good divorce attorney. He or she will most likely know a person or numerous someones who dedicate a significant portion of the follow of legislation to separation and divorce and associated problems. For example, I have been managing separation and divorce for thirty many years and have an superb track record amid the nearby legal local community. Any divorce legal professional worth his/her salt should have recognized a status between other legal professionals. Legal professionals normally know who is excellent for a certain variety of circumstance they certainly know who they would see, if they had been experiencing separation and divorce. Recommendation #two-Yellow Webpages/Internet While not a excellent resource of info, the Yellow Internet pages and web can be a commencing source of legal professional names. Attorneys who do not point out separation, divorce, military divorce, and relevant places like custody and support or home division, are not in search of cases in people regions and definitely do not commit a substantial part of the follow to people regions. Be leery of adverts that contain a laundry record of almost everything under the solar. Keep in mind the previous saying, "a jack of all trades and master of none"? Wouldn't you fairly have someone who requires the time to emphasis at least a important quantity of time to loved ones regulation, than an individual who maybe devotes 3% of his/her apply to family law issues? Keep in mind not everyone advertises in the Yellow Web pages or haw a site or internet existence.. For instance, there are far more telephone listings than there are legal professional advertisements in the Yellow Webpages. Suggestion # 3-VIRGINIA Lawyer REFERRAL Service The Virginia Law firm Referral Service is operated by the Virginia State Bar. Attorneys need to inquire to get on the record and need to concur to a set price for an original consultation. A lawyer can be listed below any category he/she asks for. The names are on a rotating list and provided to shoppers who speak to the support. Yet again, not all attorneys are outlined. We are not detailed with the referral service. This source can offer the title of an attorney who is in search of family members legislation situations. This does not indicate that the lawyer is an skilled in these kinds of cases or that he/she is skilled. All it indicates is that he or she is searching for divorce instances. Be sure to just take the queries I discuss about here to the lawyer job interview. Suggestion #four-Speak to Far more Than A single Legal professional In truth, interview many lawyers. Request each attorney who else handles separation and divorce in the location. If they will not likely give you names, depart the business office, when you see names displaying up on various lists of recommendations, the odds are most likely excellent that the lawyer is doing these instances on a regular foundation. Recommendation #five - Use a Checklist I have outlined elements that you ought to contemplate when selecting a divorce law firm. A. Expertise. The longer you have been working towards a specific location of the legislation, the far more you know. There is an aged adage that claims a good attorney knows the legislation and a great attorney knows the choose! What is the variation amongst a excellent law firm and a fantastic law firm? Encounter. B. Knowledge Making an attempt Situations. Has he/she reached any demo successes for his/her clients? Can the attorney stage to circumstance outcomes or consumer testimonial reflecting his/her capabilities? C. Are they prepared to settle when suitable to do so? Trial attorneys often experience from a employed gun mentality. They like the thrill of trying situations and may possibly not consider other choices, such as mediation or arbitration to achieve a resolution. Most great divorce lawyers do not adopt this technique, but see demo as a final resort, when other choices have unsuccessful to precipitate a fair resolution of the concerns. As opposed to other places of the law, family law usually entails ongoing interactions and consequently needs a diverse standpoint. I not too long ago read through an article by a private injury legal professional, who was creating on how to pick a private harm lawyer. He explained not to select a lawyer who settles a lot of circumstances. When it arrives to separation and divorce, I think it is critical to try out to get to an settlement, if you can. Likely to courtroom about family members legislation until you have to is like making use of a sledge hammer on a flea dilemma you could get rid of a couple of fleas, but you wreak a good deal of injury to the structure of the house, also. When folks settle their very own situations exterior of courtroom, they can be a great deal much more creative than the courtroom would be in fashioning a remedy that is fair to each parties. Occasionally, arrangement is just not feasible. When that is the circumstance, you want an seasoned able divorce attorney who can advocate for your situation in court and has a established monitor report of success. D. Respect in the authorized local community. What are other legal professionals stating about this law firm? Has the attorney lectured or taught? Has he/she taught other legal professionals? E. Publications. Has he/she created everything that has been recognized for publication in lawful journals? This is an additional sign of respect for the attorney and for his/her skills and expertise. Has he/she prepared or revealed anything created to teach the general public as to their rights duties and tasks under the regulation? F. Affiliations and memberships. What specialist affiliations does the legal professional have? Is he/she a member of the Household Law Part of the Virginia State Bar Association? How to get divorced of the Virginia Trial Lawyers? A fellow of the American Academy of Matrimonial Attorneys? G. 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Does the lawyer have a life expertise that makes it possible for him/her to advocate for divorce customers with real passion? Is that enthusiasm something that is mirrored in client testimonies? J. Cost. In contrast to personal harm follow, the very best divorce lawyers do not provide "cost-free" consultations. You will notice that expense is final on the list. In our expertise, the best divorce legal professionals are generally not the most inexpensive. In the prolonged operate, what is it worth to you to keep or purchase your fair share of the property that have been accumulated more than the training course of your married life? What is it really worth to you to insure that you keep your reasonable share of time with your youngsters? Some factors are worth preventing for and well worth the price tag that you have to pay. If your attorney does not commit a significant part of his/her apply to family law issues, has never attempted a contested divorce, has by no means tried out a contested custody circumstance or who has in no way tried an equitable distribution scenario, or drafted a experienced domestic relations get dividing a pension, or who has no expertise in military divorce and has never ever drafted a navy retired pay out order, you may possibly want to choose an additional attorney for your separation and divorce. Legal professional Virginia Dante Perry is actively engaged in the general exercise of law with an emphasis on household regulation and trials for more than thirty many years. More than individuals several years she has attempted to depict herself and her clientele with honesty and integrity. Atty. Perry requires a "no nonsense" strategy. She does not guarantee what she cannot deliver, but tries to supply more than she promises. She says what she will do and she does what she says. Element of her vision is to teach individuals as to their legal rights, duties and responsibilities below the law. Atty. Perry is a people particular person. She enjoys conference and conversing with folks, advising them, informing them and aiding them to solve their difficulties. She has customers who have been with her given that the 1970's. She has a popularity for currently being thorough and methodical in dealing with household regulation matters and for getting a "straight shooter."

[amidalogicdive]

The Sleeping Prince AU

Fall Equinox: The Lost Celebration of Titan

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: M/M Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Relationship: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric Characters: Nyx Ulric, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, Titan (Final Fantasy XV) Additional Tags: Warning: Blood Involved, wounds, self-inflicted, Lucian holiday, Bonfires, spiced drinks, fall sunsets, worshiping astrals, Offerings, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Strangers to Friends, Prophecy, Explanations, Time Travel, Confusion, part of a larger AU that's coming, lost temples, Secrets

A03 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13029882 Summary: Noctis was at a disadvantage; he’d been flung over two millennia into the future. Not only did he have to deal with the stark reality of a kingdom, he’d once been destined to rule, very much changed. But of countries, beliefs, and languages he’d never knew existed.Without speaking, all of them accepted they would have to give the man a bit of leeway. After all, any information that was given, even information thousands of years old; was something that could be used.

Thanks to @grimmvertigo who beta'd this for me and helped me make sense of it. :)

Written for #HellionHolidays: Theme, Fall: Lucian holiday (make up your own!), Colors of the season, Bonfires, Fall sunsets, Spiced drinks

This is an introduction piece to my new AU, Sleeping Prince, which I'll be putting out soon. Please leave feedback, I love feedback! :3

-*-

Noctis glanced over the map, seeming almost confused until a wave of recognition came to his eyes. “Here,” he stated, looking up at the group of men around him. “The temple is here.”

“Are you quite sure?” Ignis asked. Witnessing the affirming nod, Ignis leaned over the hood of the car to get a better look at the area he’d pointed out. “There is a statue there if I remember correctly.” Bespeckled eyes fell on Nyx as he frowned. Ignis knew the man understood his meaning without the need for words.

Unfortunately, others in the group weren't as well versed, or nearly as tactful. “Out with it.” The glare Ignis shot their newest companion could have been daggers, for all the annoyance he held back. While the man was the son of the King’s Shield and would be a benefit in battle, he knew little of the world outside the walls of Insomnia. “So, are ya gonna explain?”

“Since Mr. Amicitia insists I be frank, I shall humor his request.”

“My names Gladio…” He corrected.

“Mr. Amicitia, may I give you valuable advice that may come in handy throughout your lifetime. When it comes to some situations, at times subtly is far better than running headlong without thought.” Hearing the man huff, he brought his attention back to Noctis and shook his head lightly. “I know you are confused, you have been brought to a time and place that is not your own. So I must be the bearer of bad news, your highness. While a temple may have stood there at one time, I am confident nothing exists there but ruins of forgotten wars.”

Nyx, who had only been listening up until now, regarded the blonde of their group as he bounced around the Hammerhead store. Prompto had been sent in to gather the supplies that Noctis had requested on their arrival at the small outpost, while he and Ignis tried to figure out where they were going based off information that was outdated by a few millennia. Observing their companion making his way up to the counter, Nyx glanced over at them before crossing the few steps that separated him from the map and checked the location as well.

“It’s been two thousand years, Ignis. If Noctis says it’s there, it’s there. After all, the King told us to take him where he wanted to go. That is where he wants to go.” Pulling his eyes away, Nyx glanced back at Prompto as he came out of the store, bag in hand. “Did you get everything Noctis asked for?”

“Yep!” His chipper voice echoed under the metal roofing that provided shelter for the gas pumps. Setting the bag in the front seat, Prompto glanced at the prince. “Well, for the most part. Um, they didn’t have candles.”

“We will have to make due,” Noctis answered, bestowing the man with a gentle smile. “After all, if what Ignis says is true, we may find no altar to place them upon.”

Briskly nodding, Prompto paused and gave them a look of confusion. “Huh? So where are we going then?”

“I believe we are off to Keycatrich Ruins,” Ignis replied as he grabbed the map, slowly folding it into a precise rectangle before depositing it into his leather pouch. “If the prince’s recollection is accurate, it seems a temple to the Archaeon once stood upon that spot.”

“Oh cool!” Hopping into the back with Nyx and Noctis, Prompto grabbed the seat in front of him and hauled himself closer to Ignis so the man could hear him. “You know dude; it kinda makes sense?”

“It makes sense, how?”

“Well,” Dragging out the word for a moment, he plopped back into his seat. “I mean think about it. We go on many hunts and always run into those strange buildings that are locked. The um, what were they called?”

Gladio glanced back and smirked. “The Tomb of the Ancient Kings, in general. Usually, each tomb has its own name, after the King who’s buried there.”

“Yeah, those,” Thinking for a moment, Prompto fiddled with his hair. “well it seems like everytime we find one there is something really important near it. But then we go to others, there's like, nothing. So, ya know, maybe at one time there was something important but it’s been destroyed.”

“I, well, yes.” Ignis stuttered, meeting Nyx’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I believe our little sharpshooter has a valid point.” Nyx could only nod in agreement as they pulled out of the gas station and they made their way to the Prairie Outpost.

A few hours, a bit of rock climbing, and five complaints later the small band stood upon the hill that rose above the ruins. Before them stood a statue in ruins, a building lay close beside it in equal disrepair with another building set further back in a field. Noctis stood there, face pensive, his lips pressed into a thin line as he took the sight in.

Ignis, having never been there, looking concerned. “Noct, is this what you sought?”

A slow nod was his reply as the prince started walking towards the ruins that were set further back. As he did, Noctis motioned to the monument to his left. “He, the statue… was the Keeper of the Landforger. Protector of the Temple of the Archaeon, the first Priest of Titan.” The grass and leaves crunched underfoot as they pushed through the overgrown brush that had flourished since the area had been abandoned. “I remember, back in my time, people would travel for days to reach the temple. There were thousands of tents covering the valley below, their bonfires and torches lighting up the night. The celebrations would last for a week, but it was the equinox that we paid worship to him. When the light of day was equal to that of night, we would come here and honor the God of the Earth.”

“Never heard of a celebration for Titan.” Gladio pushed back a few branches, permitting the group to pass as amber eyes looked over the rubble. “My dad recounted the old stories to me, but none of what you’re saying came up. They are known as the slumbering gods now, and we do worship them, but not like you say.”

“It’s a shame.”

The shield seemed agitated as he released the branches. “What, that we don’t live how you lived? Sorry if we don’t meet your expectations, your highness, but this is who we are now. Ever since you woke up you’ve been judging us, and how we live our lives. Well, our bad, but lot's changed since you decided to take your little nap. Welcome to the future.”

Noctis paused, glancing back at Gladiolus. He beheld the man with, what seemed to be, a sense of disapproval. Yet, upon closer inspections, it was simply a look of sorrow. “While I respect your bravado when it comes to your kingdom, you are correct. Time does indeed change many things. I do not look down on your people for how they are, it’s merely a shame that so much has been lost to time…” Turning, he started to walk again, “and to lies.”

The remaining walk was spent in silence as all reflected on the spoken words of the prince. In many ways, it was hard for all of them to comprehend where Noctis was coming from. While the four of them were of different nationalities, backgrounds, and beliefs they knew of the world around them. They could understand one another.

Noctis was at a disadvantage; he’d been flung over two millennia into the future. Not only did he have to deal with the stark reality of a kingdom, he’d once been destined to rule, very much changed. But of countries, beliefs, and languages he’d never knew existed. Without speaking, all of them accepted they would have to give the man a bit of leeway. After all, any information that was given, even information thousands of years old; was something that could be used.

Pulled from his thoughts as Noctis quickened his step, Nyx hurried to catch up. “Hey now, little prince. What’s the rush?”

“This is it, the seat of the Archaeon!” What formerly was a stately temple, was now little more than a pile of rubble and brush surrounding a single stone room that was roughly two tents wide. He turned to look at Nyx, the excitement in his actions obvious. “What I anticipated lost, remains below!”

“Remains below?” The questioning in Ignis’ voice must have caught Noct’s attention as he looked over and nodded. “Are you saying, the temple is below us?”

An amused expression crossed his features, a light laugh pulled from his lips. “He is the God of the Earth. Where do you think we would worship him,” Motioning up at the stars that had begun to show above, he arched a brow. “the sky?”

While Ignis took that in and realized that, yes, it was indeed logical. Gladio had pushed past the group, a large broadsword appearing in his hands. “Stands back, I’ll clear the door for you.”

Doing as asked, Noctis bowed his head. “Thank you, Gladiolus.”

The man nodded, using his weapon and brute strength to clear the entrance within a matter of minutes. “It’s dark. Daemons?”

“Impossible,” The prince walked over and looked within. “this area is Astral bound, holy earth. Blessed by the Goddess of our star, Eos and her sister the Goddess of Death, Etro. No evil can pass through or desecrate such a place.”

“So in short, were safe?”

Glancing up at the Gladio’s comment, Noctis affirmed his words as a smile ghosted his lips. “We are safe. Though I cannot promise so outside of this building. Much has been lost to time, so the seat of the Archaeon may be all that is left protected.”

As they entered the narrow room, Prompto looked back, noting the sun would be setting soon. “Hey um, guys? This took longer than we thought. If we are gonna make it back, we should leave soon.” But the others didn’t seem to share his concern, more interested in the small staircase leading downwards near the back of the room.

“Recommendation?” All looked at Gladio. “Don’t mind staying here if you know it’s protected. Still, I would feel a hell of a lot better if we check the area first. Any sign of daemons, we hightail it back to the outpost.”

“Agreed Gladio,” Motioning to Prompto, Ignis held out a hand. “I believe a bit of illumination is in order.”

“Yeah, totally.” Pulling out a few extra flashlights, they forged their way down the old stone steps that seemed never-ending. “Wow, how deep does this go? Stairs they go on, forever they go on. On and on and on. ♪”

“Prompto, honestly.” While Ignis sounded annoyed, Nyx couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Gladio shook his head. Reaching the bottom, Noctis felt a hand on his shoulder holding him back. “Allow Gladiolus and Nyx to check the area first, just to be safe.”

Staying by his side, the prince glanced around and took in what little he could see with the light present. “It seems the old torches still reside, can we light them?”

“Yeah, I don’t see any daemons. Normally a place like this would be a breeding ground.” Making his way back over, Nyx looked at Noctis. “We have to make a fire, I can go back up? Grab some of the brush and dead branches that we passed?”

“If you would Nyx, and Gladiolus can you assist him?” The man nodded as both made their way back up, leaving Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis down in the darkened room. “How long has he sat in this endless night? In my day the torches and candles of worship would have set this place alight. He has truly been forgotten.”

“Not forgotten, as you were told by the King of Lucis upon awakening. He saved us from a cataclysmic meteor that would have destroyed Eos. Titan now sleeps within the Disc of Cauthess, that meteor still sitting upon his mighty shoulders. Those of Duscae think highly of him and worship him for his deeds.” Acknowledging his words, their attention was once again pulled to the stairs as their companions approached once again.

Gladio and Nyx set up the fire to the left of the stairs and lit it. While it didn’t brighten the room up in its entirety, tones of yellow, brown and orange began to shimmer in the darkness. The group was quick to gather any torches that remained, lighting them, before setting them back into the holders along the wall. As the light in the room grew, so did the details carved into the walls. Ancient symbols were written in the astral language, words of protection and prophecy. Great carvings cut into the very stone of the walls, and jewels in varying shades placed with care into the sculptures.

It was exquisite to behold, and the prince couldn't help but catch his breath when he saw what remained at the end of the room. The altar was carved from the same rock as the room, six pillars encircling it, standing taller than any man present. Each was carved from a precious stone, to represent the Six who watched over them. They noted the foremost one was of golden-yellow, representing Titan, himself.

“My word,” Ignis let out a quick breath, eyes locked on the beauty of it. “would you look at that?”

“Now that is amazing, dude. I have to get some pictures, am I allowed to do that?”

“Damn, to think all of this has just been sitting here.” Gladio glanced at Nyx as he spoke. “Thousands of years and we never even knew.”

“Yeah, and to think there are five more just like this somewhere out there.” He responded, looking at Noctis who had moved over to the packs they had been carrying. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, but there is a great deal to prepare. I must cook the ceremonial drink, make an offering and complete the ceremony of blessing before the sun rises once again.”

Kneeling down beside him, Nyx placed a hand on his shoulder which made the man glance up at him. “I got ya, but you’re not alone. The King asked us to bring you here, so let us assist you, ok?” Those words compelled the prince to relax as he nodded lightly. “Iggy’s one of the best cooks out there. He can assist you with the drink. What do you need for the blessing?”

“You wouldn’t understand…” Nyx tender hand cupping his face stopping his words as their eyes met.

“Try me.”

Biting his lip for a moment, Noctis nodded and let out a breath. “Dirt.”

“Dirt?” Gladio snorted, finally tearing his eyes away from the beauty of the place to look at them.

“Dirt.” The word was repeated as he sat back on his heels. “You must give what is most precious to you. A farmer must give from his fields, a blacksmith, from his metal. But I am…” Breathing out, dark eyes glanced over at the altar. “I am nevertheless a Lucis Caelum. I descend from the blood of the crystal that lights the world and will never die. What can we give?” He looked past Nyx to meet Gladio’s eyes. “We devote all we are to our people. So it is our land and our blood that we hold precious, it’s all we possess.”

“Fucking hell.” Nyx stood up, shaking his head as he smirked. “I get ya, little prince.”

“Wait, hold on. What do you get?” Nyx glanced over at Gladio as well. “You seem to understand this kid, so why don’t you clue in the rest of us?”

“Look, I don’t know if he got it from us, or we got it from them. What can a tribe give when all they hold dear is the land below their feet and people they protect? Blood and soil.” Gladio’s mouth opened, then closed as the words sunk in. “Nothing is more precious than the blood that runs through your veins and the lands you protect. Gotta remember, Gladio. You’re playing by rules that are over two thousand years old when dealing with him. Times have changed, but I would think you still comprehend the concept of honor?”

“Of course I do!”

Patting his shoulder, Nyx started for the stairs. “Good. Iggy help him with whatever it is he needs to cook up. I need to get some soil.”

By the time Nyx returned, the scene before him had changed. The sleeping bags had been laid out around the fire, and a collapsible cooking spit set over the fire. Prompto sat beside Gladio on one of the beds, flipping through the pictures he’d taken, after securing Noctis’ permission. The prince and Ignis kneeled beside the two metal pots as they spoke quietly. The smell of roasted stew mixed with the cloves, berries, and oranges of the spiced drink hit the hunter as his stomach growled.

“Hungry?”

“For your cooking, always Iggy.” Nyx made his way over to the prince, setting a cloth pouch tied off with string beside him. “Dirt. Hope you appreciate what I do for you,” His eyes went to Ignis, “and why is the bedding out?”

“Ah yes.” Motioning to the men around him, Ignis went back to stirring the stew. “We spoke during your absence. It seems that Noctis is quite right, and daemon cannot enter here. The majority ruled, and we have decided it would be most efficient to camp down here for the evening.”

“Majority meaning all of you and I don’t get a say, huh?” His words were teasing, and his friend simply brushed them off. Looking around once again, Nyx nodded and sat down on his bedroll. “Well it’s a good plan, and no one comes out here so we should be left alone.”

Soon the smell of food permeated the air, and all of them had moved a bit closer to the fire, awaiting the meal that had been prepared. Noctis helped by dishing out the soup as Ignis pulled out some bread Prompto had picked up in Hammerhead. Once everyone had some, the room fell silent, only the happy sounds of munching could be heard.

“Hey, Noct?” Scooting a little closer, the blonde grinned up at him as Noctis shoved another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “So that drink you made? When do we try it?”

Swallowing, he sat the spoon in his bowl. “It is a special drink that is given before one performs the blessing ceremony to Titan. Are you asking to complete the rite alongside me?”

“Um, sure dude why not!” Seeing that he hadn’t been expecting that answer, the prince let out a laugh. “What? I mean, can you like even do it alone?”

“While it is uncommon, yes you can. Giving the situation, I believe the Archaeon would recognize my position and forgive me. Anyway, you would have to provide an offering.”

“Oh! Can do, buddy!” Yanking his bag over, the blond pulled out a packet. “So like, I guess my thing is pictures. It helps me remember stuff, so I can give him one of those.” There was uncertainty in his eyes as those oddly colored violet-blue orbs met the princes. “I mean, do you think he’d like it?”

Noctis teared up, coughing as he looked down at his bowl for a moment. “I think Titan would find it appropriate.” The words were whispered, but his appreciation was clear as he glanced back up. “The very fact that you wish to learn my ways, I… thank you, Prompto.”

In the end, all four had decided to complete the rite with the prince, seeing how important it was to him. Each finding something of themselves they could offer up to the Astral. Now they stood close to the fire as Noctis finished up the explanation of how the ritual would proceed. “I am no Priest of Titan, but I will perform the rite as well as I can.” Handing each a cup, he filled it with the hot liquid. “Please, do not drink until the time has come. Just do as I do, as I have instructed you.”

Ignis looked at the other three, then nodded. “Understood, we trust you Noctis.”

Bowing his head, Noctis made his way to the altar of Titan as the other four remained a few feet behind him. They stood there quietly when suddenly one of the most lovely tenors Nyx had ever heard exited the man's lips and echoed through the chamber. It created a reverberation within the room that was one of the oddest sounds the man had heard in his life. Orange, yellow and brown gems within the walls pulsed with power. The room glowing bright and dim as Noctis continued the song that had no words, and yet seemed to speak volumes. Then the trembling came, it wasn’t a violent crash but a gentle rocking that seemed to sweep through the room then recede.

“Nu mañ vaju jachu fax chadañ!”

The deep voice seemed to come from everywhere, and yet there was no presence other than the five of them. Looking upon the altar, Noctis held the cup up with both hands. “It is I, Noctis Lucis Caelum. First son of Regis Lucis Caelum, the Third King of Lucis. Blessed of Shiva, Beholden to the Goddess Etro, who reigns over life and death.” A rumbling occurred once again as the four looked at one another, but the Prince didn’t falter in his words. “Chosen of the crystal to become the King of Kings, that our light may forever shine and see the scourge, and the accursed be abated!” His words were greeted with silence, dark eyes closing. “I have come seeking your blessing upon the fall equinox, as all of my blood have done since the rise of Solheim. Will you accept?”

It seemed as if they were holding their breath, the stones around them continuing to pulse with power. But it was the silence that reigned.

“Noctis.” Nyx went to move, an odd feeling filling him, telling him that he should be at the man's side. Seeing the prince shake his head, Nyx stayed where he was.

“I have done all you urged.” His words were a whisper, but the room amplified them. “I know I have failed once, and the Gods saw fit to take all I knew away!” Noct’s voice hitched, eyes squeezing closed. “I have nothing left but the prophecy that the Gods placed upon my shoulders as a child. I will fulfill my calling, but you must have faith in me!”

Once again there was silence, and then a rumbling. “Gud…”

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, Noctis nodded and drank from the cup in his hands. The other four did as well. “God of Earth, Archaeon, mighty Landforger. I beseech you to recognize this offering for it is all I am and all I will ever be.” Setting the dirt on the altar, he opened up the cloth it had been wrapped in, then grabbed his knife. “The land that I preserve, the people that I have been sworn to safeguard.” Wrapping his hand around the blade, he pulled quickly as blood flowed from his closed fist onto the dirt. “The blood of my line, the name of Lucis Caelum that was granted to us by the crystal. This I give to thee, Titan Lord of the Lands.”

Bowing, he stepped back as the others went up to the altar and uttered their names. They, also, left their gifts but Nyx seemed more concerned with Noctis than trying to win over an Astral's favor.

As they made their way back to the fire, Nyx held out a hand. “Let me see the wound.”

“I’m fine.” Noctis seemed tired, drained now that the rite had been concluded.

“That wasn’t what I said, or even asked.” Hauling him over to their camp, Nyx pushed the prince down onto his bedroll and rummaged through his bag. Grabbing a potion, he saw Noctis shake his head. “Let. Me. Help. You.” When it was obvious the prince wouldn’t oppose him further, Nyx started to clean the blood away. “So, wanna explain all that?”

“Not really."

"Fine, then suffer in silence." That got Nyx a look, but the younger man soon gave in.

"Some Gods are harder to convince than others. Due to what occurred before I… slept, It is obvious a few may feel my failures are not yet forgiven. They may not be as willing to speak or recognize my words.”

“Fuck em.” Noctis hissed as the hunter pressed the cloth against the cut. “You do what you need to do, don’t let them hold you to some higher standard. You’re never going to please a god, and you’re smart enough to know what has to be done. Anyway, the King asked us you help you out for a while… and until he says otherwise I plan on doing that. Not that I needed a great deal of convincing, it’s obvious that you need someone to watch over you.”

“Do I?” He was amused, and a bit flatter as well. Not that he would admit the last. “Your concern and continued help are appreciated, Nyx Ulric.”

“Good. You’re stuck with me, little prince.” Seeing that the wound was clean, Nyx poured a bit of the potion onto a fresh rag and pressed it to the wound. “Stop hurting yourself to make them happy. Understood?” Hearing a light yawn, Nyx glanced over at Noctis as he nodded.

Moving a bit closer, the prince curled up against his side as Nyx continued to clean the myriad of cuts on his palm and fingers. “I hear your words, and shall follow if you wish it.”

“Stubborn brat.” Taking his time to wrap each cut, Nyx allowed Noctis to fall asleep against him.

When the sun rose the next morning, the five men made their way down from the demolished temple and followed the path back to the outpost. Borrowing the camp to make a hurried breakfast, by noon they were back in the Regalia and heading down the road to Insomnia. There were still many things they needed to acquire so Noctis might fulfill his destiny. Hopefully, the current King, Regis, would have more for them to look through upon their return.

[xxprincessjewelsxx]

I double dog dare you to answer them all.

..................................................-_-

1. selfie

(pic from earlier in the year, that’s my face, no makeup no filter.)

2. what would you name your future kids?

Um....I don’t know...

3. do you miss anyone?

My princling Dusty, this will be the first Christmas in 17 years that I will be spending without him and I miss him very much.

4. what are you looking forward to?

Hopefully a vacation this year.

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

My friends, pets, and followers

6. is it hard for you to get over someone?

Depends on the situation.

7. what was your life like last year?

There was a lot of shit that happened, but there were bright spots too

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

I become 10x more sarcastic than I normally am when I’m annoyed. no crying there.

9. who did you last see in person?

Outside of my fam...my besties for one of their birthdays.

10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

For the most part...which can be bad cause sometimes I hold things in for too long

11. are you listening to music right now?

No

12. what is something you want right now?

A Butterfinger

13. how do you feel right now?

Sick

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

I dunno, like a month ago

15. personality description

Smol, extra, sassy, and squishy

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn't?

Yes and then a conversation came up where I ended up saying what I had wanted and what happened was exactly why I hadn’t said anything in the first place and I became the bad guy because I told the truth that they didn’t want to hear.

17. opinion on insecurities.

We all have them and some of us are able to embrace those insecurities, others haven’t found how they can embrace theirs. And just because you have insecurities doesn’t mean you should poke fun at other’s just to make you feel better about the one’s that you have.

18. do you miss how thing were a year ago?

Haha...no

19. have you ever been to New York?

No...but I would love to!

20. what is your favourite song at the moment?

Everyone knows my jam is ‘Me Like Yuh’ by Jay Park.

21. age and birthday?

25, 07/07/92

22. description of crush.

23. fear(s)

Spiders

24. height

5′4″

25. role model

I actually...don’t really think I one. Like I’ve never had someone who I’ve looked at and been like “that’s who I aspire to be like”....I guess maybe I just wanted to be my own person....

26. idol(s)

I could be here listing the long list of Kidols, but we’d be here all day

27. things i hate

pen clicking, animal abusers, snow....

28. i'll love you if...

You eat tacos and listen to kpop with me.

29. favourite film(s)

Da Vinci Code series, HP, LOTR, Beverly Hills Cop, The Ghost and Mrs. Meur....

30. favourite tv show(s)

Longmire, Law & Order, Law & Order SVU, The Closer, Major Crimes, Criminal Minds, Supernatural, Sherlock....

31. 3 random facts

I normally of a bucket full of random facts, but since I’m sick we are turning to Google’s “I’m Curious” for 3 random facts.

“The amount of hairs the averge person has on their head varies from one individual to another. An average person has about 100 thousand hairs on their scalp. Most redheads have about 90 thousands hairs, blonds have about 140 thousand, and brunettes fall in between these two figures.”

“On this date, March 6, 1896, Charles Brady King drove the first automobile in Detroit, several months before Henry Ford piloted his first car. The following day, the Detroit Free Press reported: "The first horseless carriage seen in this city was out on the streets last night.” 

“Cats, dogs, and many nocturnal creatures appear to have glowing eyes because the back of their eyeballs include a special reflective layer called the tapetum lucidum. This helps animals (cats in this case) see better in low light by working like a mirror on the retina to reflect the light back through the eyes, giving them a second chance to absorb the light. The colors seem more visible at night because the pupils are dilated wider than during the day, allowing more of the tapetum lucidum to be visible.”     

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?

Girls

33. something you want to learn

A second language

34. most embarrassing moment

None that I am willing to divulge

35. favourite subject

English and History

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

Traveling abroad, going to Kcon, owning to 1967 Ford Mustang

37. favourite actor/actress

Tom Hanks

38. favourite comedian(s)

I have a few but my top comedians are Jeff Dunham and Gabriel Iglesias 

39. favourite sport(s)

Baseball and Hockey

40. favourite memory

Its hard to choose one out of my favorites and you know how indecisive I can be...

41. relationship status

Single...

42. favourite book(s)

HP, Ruby Red, Da Vinci Code Series...

43. favourite song ever

No...I can’t do that...I can’t choose a FAVORITE SONG EVER...’Call Me Irresistible’ by Frank Sinatra.....

44. age you get mistaken for

I get mistaken for being younger than I am a lot, which people (who are older than me) tell me I should take as a compliment and its like yea...but when someone’s like “no you’re not really 25 you can’t possibly be able to legally drink yet” it gets annoying after a while. 

45. how you found out about your idol

Again, I don’t really have an idol

46. what my last text message says

It was a picture to my mom of two of our cats snuggled up together

47. turn ons

manners, beautiful smile, someone who just accepts me for me, someone who can cooks, loves animals

48. turn offs

dick pics, over inflated ego, clingy, rude

49. where i want to be right now

I need a really deep bathtub that I can just soak neck deep in warm water and bubbles. That’s where I want to be right now.

50. favourite picture of your idol

Don’t have one....

51. starsign

Cancer the Crab

52. something i'm talented at

I mean...I guess I’m pretty good at cooking. And I’m told my writing is good.

53. 5 things that make me happy

My pets, my friends, writing, my lovely followers, a hot cup of coffee

54. something thats worrying me at the moment

School stuff

55. tumblr friends

@notsosassymermaidqueen @soapboxjustice @mizzmoon @seoulofakwonjiyong

56. favourite food(s)

Mmm my favorite food I would have to say would be the Enchilada Ranchero from this restaurant called Puerto Vallarta. I look at the menu, but in the end just end up ordering the same thing each time.

57. favourite animal(s)

Cats, wild cats, red pandas, owls, penguins.

58. description of my best friend

One of them happens to be the one who double dog dared me to do all of these...the other I’ve known so long she is husband, I am wife xD

59. why i joined tumblr

Cause @soapboxjustice told me there was this website that I should check out that had fanfiction and cosplay stuff and everything like that and so I joined.

60. ask me anything you want

You don’t get to ask me anything else since I’ve done all of this xD

[surveysonfleek]

528.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 29

2701. What does 'equal' mean? that everyone’s deserving of the same rights. 2702. Do you believe in the phrase 'all men are created equal'? in theory yes, but not within our society. What about woman? unfortunately not. 2703. Have all persons been specifically 'created'? i guess? 2704. Are all persons exactly equal? i don’t think so. some are more skilled in certain areas than others etc.

2705. Or do they just have equal rights (in theory)? yes. 2706. Does art reflect society or does society reflect art? society reflects art more i think. 2707. Are you living under a little black raincloud or a ray of sunshine? neither. 2708. What do you wonder about? life. 2709. What is better..being single and free or being in love and responsible to another person? being in love and responsible. 2710. What vitamins do you take? none. 2711. In checkers..red or black? black. 2712. Is The Crow a great movie? i haven’t seen it. 2713. Do you wear all black frequently? not that often, but it’s happened. 2714. Do you ever call yourself a poet, artist, or musician? noooope. Has your writing been published, your art been hung in a gallery or your band been signed? my art has been hung before. Does it matter? not really. if i’m a creative my priority is just creating. it’s a bonus if it gets chosen to be displayed to the public. 2715. When insects get into your house, do you kill them or catch them and take them ouside or leave them alone and let them live with you? kill them. i don’t do insects dude. 2716. Name at least one person who's birthday is in: Jan.- yon Feb.- not sure Mar.- didier Apr.- ej, jerry, irene May- dwayne, dad June- mum July- bek Aug.- no one.. Sept- belle, meloy Oct- marie, cha Nov- dana, kristy, ahmad, sara, andrew, jason Dec- me, nat 2717. Which would you consider to be a worse criminal: a pedophile or a necrophile? pedophile. What if it was between a pedophile, a necrophile and a murderer? murderer. 2718. Do we start to die the day we are born or start to live the day we die? first one lol. 2719. Have you ever called your mom or dad a four letter word? sure, like the ‘best’. hahaha. 2720. Do you believe america should go to war with iraq? a bit of an old survey. 2721. Agree or disagree? (Bold is agree) “There is too much concern in courts for the rights of criminals.” “Abortion should be legal.” “The death penalty should be abolished.” “Marijuana should be legalized.” “It is important to have laws prohibiting homosexual relationships.” “The federal government should do more to control the sale of handguns.” “Racial discrimination is no longer a major problem in America.” “Wealthy people should pay a larger share of taxes than they do now.” “Colleges should prohibit racist/sexist speech on campus.” “Same-sex couples should have the right to legal marital status.” “Affirmative action in college admissions should be abolished.” “The activities of married women are best confined to the home and family.” “People should not obey laws which violate their personal values.” “Federal military spending should be increased.” “Realistically, an individual can do little to bring about changes in our society.”  Why did you agree or disagree to that last statement? i disagree because it really can only take one person to change things. 2722. Let's say that after you die you become a spirit and you join all the other spirits. Not all of them have lived. You are talking to some who have never lived about how you HAVE lived. One of the spirits who has never lived says they think they will travel to earth in a human body soon and live. They ask you what three things on Earth should I be sure not to miss? You say... 1. travel the world 2. fall in love 3. eat to your heart’s content. 2723. What kind of ass is the sexiest (flat, round, tight, hard, meaty, juicy, small, big, stacked, packed, petite, barely there, curvey, muscular, etc.)? i don’t really have a preference. if i see one i’ll know if i like it or not haha. 2724. Is there something beautiful and special about everyone? for the most part, yes. If yes is there something beautiful and special about Hitler? that’s why i said for the most part lol. How about Bin Laden? idk. What is it? apparently they found  bin laden’s laptop and saw that it had a ton of wallace and gromett videos on it looool. that’s pretty special. 2725. Have you ever moshed? hell no. If yes to what bands? If no then would you ever? i don’t think so. 2726. Do you like sushi? i love sushi. 2727. What mood are you in? pretty bored and tired. What does your mood depend on? if i’m working or not. What depends on your mood? work. 2728. wHAT IS faith? believing in someone/something. what is common sense? knowing the easiest way to do things. Do you have either or both of them? i think so. 2729. Is perfection or imperfection more beautiful? both if they’re separated.  2730. Would you think a person doing the following things has a healthy or unhealthy level of insanity? gives the finger while driving? depends what the other person did. tells their life story to people they just met? slight issues there. walks up to people and tried to convert them to a religion? unhealthy. says blah? depends how often. 2731. Do you think this is a great line of poetry: "Journey with me into the mind of a maniac. Doomed to be a killer since I came out the nutsac" Why or why not? lol it’s a bit of a mind fuck. 2732. Do you think that song lyrics are poems with music? sometimes. 2733. In cases of rape which do you think is more of a crime: a stranger rapes a girl OR a girl's boyfriend rapes her? both is just as bad. 2734. Did you know that in the USA it is considered to be LESS of a crime if a rapist knows the victim (because it is 'less of a crime' the rapist gets a less severe punishment)? Do you agree or disagree and why? i totally disagree. if the rapist knows the victim it puts the victim in a shitty position. if they’re someone with power and/or authority over them, the victim may find it harder to defend themselves from the rapist’s actions which can lead to emotional and psychological issues, like stockholm syndrome and shit. 2735. In the USA a few weeks ago a guy had beaten up and raped his girlfriend, for which he got 70 days of community service. He had been found guilty, got a year and a half of jail, BUT can you guess why his sentence was reduced to mere community service? . . . . . . . . He had a steady job. That's right. He was found less guilty, because he had a long-term steady job. How does this make you feel? that’s bullshit. i hope my country’s court of law isn’t that backwards. 2736. Does the character limit of notes or entries annoy you more? no. 2737. wHO'S YOUR FAVORITE WRESTLER? the rock. 2738. Have you ever been trapped in an elevator? no, thank god. 2739. What is more important, tact or honesty? it depends... in the workplace i’m all for tact. but for personal relationships, honesty. 2740. Do you have a mentor? Who? nope. 2741. If you like guys: would you rather have a 'bad' guy (motorcycles, smokes, drinks, etc) or a 'good' guy (family, domesticated, nice guy)? a good guy. Would you rather have a virgin or a more experienced guy? doesn’t matter. If you like girls: Would you rather have a virgin or a more experianced girl? would you rather have a 'bad' girl (motorcycles, smokes, drinks, etc) or a 'good' girl (family, domesticated, nice girl)? 2742. Do you feel nervous in crowds? sometimes, especially if i don’t have a clear path to walk through. 2743. Did you write a real entry today? no. What about? Was it your best writing? 2744. If you were making a 'best of' entry about your BEST entries ever what would be your top 5 best entries? lol. 2745. Do you like to play the lottery? i’ve played it once and lost. 2746. Guess what? what? 2747. Why did you choose to live one more day? i’m content with my life. 2748. What is the most beautiful myth you have ever read/heard? mermaids. 2749. Have you ever been stood up? nope. 2750. Finish the following sentences any way you want. It's always darkest before.. sunrise Never underestimate the power of.. money Don't bite the hand that.. feeds A miss is as good as a.. goal If you lie down with dogs, you.. bark Love all, trust.. no one The pen is mightier than.. a pencil An idle mind is.. free Where there is smoke, there's.. fire Happy is the bride who.. gets enough sleep Two is company, three's.. a crowd None are so blind as.. the meek You get out of something what you.. put in When the blind lead the blind.. idk Laugh and the whole world laughs with you. Cry and.. idk 2751. What's the most interesting assignment you ever had in school? making a diorama of the gold rush lol. it was fun. 2752. What's the most interesting thing you ever had to do for work? shuffle cards literally all day. 2753. Do you feel: insignificant? unable to evoke change? like one person can't change the world? like one life and one person's suffering doesn't mean very much? If you answered yes to any of those can you describe why in detail? omg cbf. 2754. Do you feel like you could contribute as much to society as ____ has? Albert Einstein: Abe Lincoln: Franz Kafka: Jesus Christ: 2755. Are you aware that your brain is the same size as Albert Einstein's brain? sure. Do you realize that you have the same number of hours in a day as Abraham Lincoln? sure.

Did you know that Franz Kafka wrote all of his amazing litterature during his lunchbreaks at work? Did you know that we are all made of matter and that you are made of the Same Thing that Jesus was made of? Do you still believe that you couldn't contribute as much to society as they did? If yes than WHY? 2756. Is your mind in the gutter? sometimes. 2757. What do you have to complain about? everythinggggg. 2758. Do you remember rock n' roll radio? nope. 2759. Is there such a thing as a food that you burn more calories from digesting than you actually absorb from it? no, i watched a video debunking the celery myth. 2760. Hey, if you've gotten this far than you and me go way back. We've been hanging out for a while now and I gotta know..do you like me? no, some of these questions are stupid. 2761. What are you doing, Dave? 2762. As far as love goes do you feel it is better to become complete before looking for someone or find someone who completes you? either is fine. it’s actually best not to look for love, and to just let it find you. 2763. What attracts you about the opposite sex (or same sex, or both sexes)? face. 2764. Do you need people or do you not need anyone? a bit of both. 2765. Is selfishness always bad? yeah, sometimes. Is selflessness always good? only if you’re bettering yourself as a person. 2766. Do you feel like your life is being controlled by a power structure? somewhat. 2767. Can you name three things in society that send the message that being completely yourself and that looking inside yourself and contemplating what's within is a good thing? no. 2768. Can you name three things in society that send the message that materialism and the accumulation of stuff is a good thing? no. 2769. What is more important, a picture or its frame? the picture. What is more important, spirituality or religion? spirituality. 2770. How many definitions can you come up with for the word 'fuck'? more than ten. 2771. Is it less offensive when a black person says Nigger than when a white person says it? yes, it’s less offensive. Why or why not? because black people have taken a derogatory word used against them back in the day and have made it into a ‘new’ meaning, which is totally fine for them to use but not for anyone else. 2772. Do you rationalize often? i guess. 2773. Do you believe that america is an imperialist nation? idk. 2774. Would you agree that: hot topic is the new abercrombie? pink is the new black: you are the new you? 2775. Do you have more internet or real life friends? real life friends. 2776. What IS the feeding of 5000? idk? 2777. What's an easy way to make money? working hard. 2778. What's your favorite slang word and what does it mean? lol idk. 2779. Are you uncomfortable? sometimes. 2780. Is anything definite besides death and taxes? life. 2781. Would you rather live fast and die young or live slow and die old? live slow die old lol. 2782. Can you name 4 people who have committed crimes against humanity? no, i ain’t no snitch. How do you think they live with themselves? idk. 2783. If you could imagine, pure fantasy, any God you could concieve, how would you want God to be? no thanks. 2784. do you think the smashing pumpkins have a strong christian theme? never really listened to them. 2785. Do you think this survey has a strong christian theme? more religious than anything. 2786. Fill in the blank for yourself" Give me ____ or give me death! life. 2787. Have you ever heard of the USA patriotism act? Apparently they have passed laws making torture legal. Also the FBI can sneak and peek into ANYONE'S home. They don't have to ask or even tell you they were there. This is already the law. So, whaddaya think? i’m glad i don’t live in the usa. 2788. The people in power step all over the average citizen, trying to secure all the power and money for themselves and leave us with no rights and under their control. They have the audacity to do this because they know that we will not lift a finger to stop them. Are they right? somewhat. 2789. The Free State Project is a plan in which 20,000 or more liberty-oriented people will move to a single state of the U.S. to secure there a free society. They will accomplish this by first reforming state law, opting out of federal mandates, and finally negotiating directly with the federal government for appropriate political autonomy. They want to be a community of freedom-loving individuals and families, and want to create a shining example of liberty for the rest of the nation and the world. What's your opinion? Could this work? Why or why not? tl:dr. 2790. Have you ever seen the Neverending Stroy? Remember when Bastian has to prove his worth by looking in that mirror where you see yourself the way you really are with no pretenses, rationalizations or mental lying? Could you stand yourself if you looked into that mirror? sure. 2791. What is soilent green? idk. 2792. What are you proud that you have never done? hard drugs. 2793. What things are hopeless? crackheads. 2794. What Are People For? idk. 2795. What book do you feel could change someone's life? idk, everyone has different tastes. 2796. Didja ever want to just walk up to the Bush administration and ask them, 'What the fuck?' no. 2797. How do you take your coffeee? two sugars and a dash of milk. 2798. Have you ever played: paintball? no. lazer tag? yes. which is better? laser tag, i’m never trying paintball lol. 2799. In what ways are you lucky? just everything i’ve had in my life so far. 2800. If Jesse Jackson wants reparations to be given to black people because he thinks that black people don't have equal opportunities in this country than why does he drive a Jaguar? idk dude.