#and that tradition is bad because their tradition is forced conversions and controlling with fear through the threat of eternal damnation

[hello-nichya-here]

Is Daemon in love with Rhaenyra or just using her? Why did he not go all the way with her in episode 4? Was it just guilt over using her or was there something more?

He IS in love and he IS using her. She's a way to get closer to the throne, and Daemon doesn't mind exploiting that, plus he wants to be Aegon the Conqueror and to him that includes marrying "in the tradition of their house" aka an incestuos marriage, and naturally the first choice for someone that arrogant is the princess/future queen.

But their genuine bond cannot just be ignored. Daemon is clearly attracted to her, and he tends to be less of a dick to her than he is to everyone else (still awful by the standards of any reasonable person, but it counts, and luckly for him Rhaenyra can be a bit unhinged too).

He gives her a necklace made of the steal of his sword as symbol of their shared heritage, comforts her during her mother's funeral, stops trying to act all threatening when she calls his bluff in episode 2, shows her the harsh truth that plenty of people STILL see Aegon II as the true heir despite Viserys choosing her (can also count as him trying to undermine her confidence, so it's both "tough love" AND "you're worthless, feel bad and sleep with me") and he listens to her about her fears regarding marriage/sex/pregnancy and full on encourages her to just do whatever the fuck she pleases (though this one also counts as him using her since he did to try to force Viserys to accept them gettting married, aka Daemon getting to at least be king consort).

He accepts to be part of a (fake) murder plot so she'll be rid of her husband and then marry her so her claim to the throne will be more solid (again, counts as both selflessness and selfishness), they are VERY physically affectionate during their marriage, he is clearly super happy when she's pregnant with yet another child of his (and in a deleted scene he mourns said child after the miscarriage/stillbirth), baits Vaemond Velaryon into calling her a whore in front of Viserys so he has an excuse to cut his head off in front of everyone and thus assuring Rhaenyra's son will get Driftmark despite being a bastard, and he is being very gentle when letting her know of Lucerys's death - that last one is important as it happens in episode 10, aka the one in which he treats her worse than ever.

For fuck's sake, they're CONSTANTLY speaking high valyrian to each other as that is the show's very deliberate way of setting their conversations with each other apart from the ones they have with everyone else.

Even when he was happily married with Laena, a wife he CHOSE because they had genuine chemistry and affection for each other, he was still thinking of Rhaenyra constantly, being aware of everything that was going on in her life even from afar.

As for him not going all the way with Rhaenyra in episode 4, I believe that happened for two reasons:

1 - Daemon wasn't as fully in control of that situation as he thought he'd be. He WANTED to have sex with her, sure, but he is an arrogant, volatile guy, and Rhaenyra, despite being a virgin, was not at all acting shy, scared or even hesitant. She wasn't letting him fully take charge, turning around to face him, toy with him after he had just pressed her against the wall, her back turned to him.

Denying her suddenly, without explanation, and just leaving her there by herself, was a way to take back control - especially since this whole thing was also about making Rhaenyra get caught with him, and that had already happened, so he already "got what he wanted from her" but she didn't get the same from him. He IS still a potential candidate for the throne, so disgracing the princess AND disregarding her once her reputation is in the dirt, but his isn't because rules are different for men, is a way to prove, either to her or to himself, that he holds more power in their relationship and always will.

2 - Guilt. Daemon KNOWS what he is doing is not right. He knows Rhaenyra is very young, he knows he's manipulating her, he knows he is using and exposing her, and he knows that's an awful thing to do to his own dear niece, the daughter of the king and brother he does sincerely love (in his own way). That's why he isn't gloating like a villain after his evil plan was a success, but is instead looking all miserable and drinking all night - he is WILLING to be an utter bastard to get what he wants, but that doesn't mean it doesn't take a toll on him.

Not going all the way with Rhaenyra gives her the chance to have a "proper" first time, with her husband (be it Daemon himself or not) instead of in a brothel, in front of a bunch of people, with a married man. It lets her still keep ver "virtue" even if nobody else will believe she's still a virgin.

It's also why he leaves once she's married. Now that his one path to become king no longer exists, he isn't caught up between what he wants and what's right, as leaving Rhaenyra the fuck alone is the only option - and Daemon himself confirms in episode 7 that he did genuinely believe his niece would be better off without him, even though she clearly disagrees (and they both have VERY good reasons to feel the way they do).

So yeah, Daemon is one hell of a complicated character, and even when he is being awful, that doesn't mean he isn't also showing some humanity - and vice versa.

[locustheologicus]

OPPENHEIMER: A Lesson on Presuppositions

Beware of condemning any man’s action. Consider your neighbor’s intention, which is often honest and innocent, even though his act seems bad in outward appearance. - St. Ignatius of Loyola.

I finally saw the movie Oppenheimer and it was amazing. Director Christopher Nolan stand out as someone who can take a subject matter, in this case the historical development of the Atomic bomb and the early policy disputes regarding the Atomic Energy Program, and imbue it with a powerful ethical consideration. Throughout the movie you journey with the struggle that Oppeheimer has with Lewis Strauss and by the end you are forced to reflect and re-evaluate how we all make unfortunate judgements on others based on assumptions we place on who they are or what they say and do.    

The movie was based on the way that Lewis Strauss (played by Robert Downey Jr.) went out of his way to discredit Robert Oppenheimer (played by Cillian Murphy) and to remove his influence from the world of atomic energy policy making. In the movie, Strauss’ motive is very personal and narcissistic. He was convinced that Oppenheimer had turned the scientific community against him. At the center of that assumption is a brief conversation that takes place by a lake in Princeton between Oppenheimer and Einstein. After the conversation Strauss comes by and greets Einstein who seems to snub him. From this unfortunate event Strauss begins to pursue vengence against Oppenheimer. 

The black and white portion of the movie depicts the Senate hearing for the cabinet nomination of Lewis Strauss in 1959, after the events that take place with Oppenheimer. During this process it becomes clear that Strauss orchestrated the persecution of Oppenheimer and because of this he losses the cabinet nomination. This infuriates Strauss even further feeling that somehow Oppenheimer continues to influence others against him. The Senate aide (played by Alden Ehreneich), after recognizing Strauss’ anger and jealousy, suggest that he truly does not know what was said during the conversation between Einstein and Oppenheimer and that it may be possible it had nothing to do with him. This is when we hear the actual dialogue between Oppenheimer and Einstein.    

The discussion was based on the fear that shared by many, while it was an important goal to get the bomb before the Nazi’s built there own, it was also feared that such a powerful weapon could not be controlled. One scientific concern was that the bomb would start a chain reaction of explosions that would not end, resulting in the destruction of Earth’s atmosphere. This fortunately did not happen. But later Oppenheimer recognized that what he had started was a political chain reaction that could also lead to a nuclear holocaust. This, he told Einstein, is what he believed he unfortunately accomplished. This would give anyone a moment of pause as they reflect on their new social reality in light of the massive destruction their science has brougt forth. This explains Einstein’s somber and contemplative mood as he walks past Strauss. Strauss however assumes a personal attack and begins to plot against Oppenheimer, to the detriment of the global community who will loose out from Oppenheimer’s caution regarding nuclear policy.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola warn us against making negative presuppositions on others. There is a great and practical spiritual wisdom from the Ignatian tradition. St. Ignatius knew that his missionaries would encounter new people and experience new cultural norms that could allow for the missionary community to misinterpret those they would encounter. There would be plenty of unfortunate opportunities to make personal and negative assumptions. Ignatius trained those who would be formed by Jesuit spirituality to always keep an open mind and to never assume a negative interpretation to how they experienced others. Fr. James Martin tells us:

The Presupposition steers you away from anger and so provides the other person with the emotional space needed to meet you on more peaceful territory. It may even invite him or her to change... The Presupposition also helps you stay open to change, growth, and forgiveness. (Martin, pg. 236) 

The Presuppositions are a lesson we should all take some time to reflect on. The great contribution of this movie is to see how this Ignatian wisdom played out in the dynamic between Oppenheimer, Einstein and Strauss. A single event that then, unintentionally, led to an unfortunate series of events because of a false assumption based and a negative interpretation. And because of this we continue to live with the consequences of a nuclear arms race that threatens the existence of mankind.   

[askthefivefallen]

A: "I'm not gonna fade." *she wants to make a joke about Emily being so keen she keep control of her mouth but there's... a genuine, haunted look in the seraph's eyes that unnerves her. She figured Emily probably worried when she couldn't find Ass, when she didn't respond to her texts- which, fuck, now she's need a new phone again, Lefty was going to kill her- but she hadn't considered anything happened beyond that. She couldn't imagine what Emily had gone through over those few days* "I promise. I've got my ax back, I could always-"

I'm staying in the halo.

A: "The fuck do you mean you're staying in the halo!?" *her vision goes cross eyed as she tries glaring above her own head* "Em just said-"

I will communicate. I am not leaving the halo.

A: *she looks at Emily* "Give me a sec, I need Shamira to explain herself and I feel like she's going to make it hard." *her attention shifts back* "This is kinda fuckin' rude, you know, trying to have a private conversation-" *the wave of guilt that washes over her, she realizes, is just a fraction escaping through a dam before Shamira retreats further into the halo* "Okay, yeah, low blow. My bad."

It's hardly your fault.

A: "It's not yours, either. Like Em said, you have your own side to this story. So, why don't you want to tell it?"

I want to tell it but I have a number of reasons to do so through a medium. It's your body; now aware of the transgression, I do not wish to repeat myself, even to take control of a small piece of you. I worry that if we begin seeking ways to justify such, I will continue seeking those justifications. Being held in such a small space like this... it's not a physical thing, true, but it's not pleasant either- and I at least have a choice in the matter. You didn't.

A: *she nods- which is weird, even given the context that she's not used to talking to a noncorporeal entity like this- but remains silent, prompting a disgruntle ripple of annoyance from Shamira*

I also... don't want her to hate me more than she already does.

A: "Emily doesn't hate you, Shamira."

I was used as an unwitting tool to keep her from you. Even if she doesn't hate me, as a being, she hates what I represent. Heaven's Will forced upon her, taking from her a source of Joy, denying her choice- you saw her desperation, her frustration, her pain, all as clearly as I did, Ass. Even now, I'm keeping you from... indulging.

A: "Banging, you're keeping us from banging, yes, but continue." *the attempt at levity fails and the guilt becomes stronger for a moment* "If it's any consolation, we kinda have a tradition of having traumatizing events occur before getting physical- well, that's the dumbest way I could've worded that but whatever, I'm still kinda out of it- and this time, it'll take a lot longer to get past the traumatizing part. That's fine." *she reaches for her own wrists and works free the bindings on Shamira's gauntlets. They didn't give way easily- they were never intended to be removed- but she succeeds and pulls them off so she can set her bare hands on Emily's hips again. "We've got time."

That doesn't change how guilty I feel knowing that my presence is inhibiting you both and there's nothing any of us can do about it. And... I do not wish to make matters worse. On our trip through the portals, I acted on instinct, and it upset Emily further- a wrong word... no. I don't wish to risk it.

A: *she presses her lips into a thin line, then looks at Emily* "Shamira does want to talk to you but she doesn't trust herself to leave the halo. Plus, she feels guilty- I think she's trying to be unobtrusive in the hopes we can... ignore her and do what we'd normally do." *her fingers flex because she is hungry for Emily, especially remembering the first time they used this couch for... other purposes than sitting idly, but she holds back, too* "But... I'm not comfortable with that. I don't think you would be, either. And she's afraid-"

I'm not- wait, is this fear?

A: "Yes, Shamira, that crushing weight of negative expectation is called 'dread' and it's basically intense fear. You're scared of upsetting Emily more- you feel guilty about the how and why you were created, and you don't wanna fuck up your tentative new existence. Believe me. I get that." *she looks into Emily's eyes* "So... ask me and I'll speak for her. Even the shit she doesn't want to say, I can still kinda feel. I'll try to get better at saying what she's saying, too. It's just kinda... weird."

Weird how?

A: "I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure if I'm the one picturing-"

Ah, yes, I see. I suppose... same.

A: "Yeah, now that we're aware of each other and you're testing the limits of your existence, I'm really not sure where you begin and I end. We don't- we don't have souls in the traditional sense but... there's something there. Something that makes me me and you you, and it's weird to suddenly be aware of that in a very tangible way."

A: *in the next moment, there's an unspoken agreement between them, because she looks at Emily and feels warmth spread through her chest, love for the one who literally went through Hell to get her back, and there's a similar sensation coming from Shamira. The guilt intensifies. They aren't sure where one begins and the other ends but they have things in common. They both love Emily and have pledged their everything to her but Shamira seems to feel like she is... lesser in this regard. Her entire experience with Emily was focused on reaching Ass; Emily has no reason to tolerate Shamira's presence, aside from the fact that it's Emily, and she'd never be so cruel. It's a one-sided love unearned, because the soft moments that melt the guardian angel's heart... were never directed at her, despite that being the only perspective to access those memories. So, they take another step forward together, cohabitating the same body and loving the same seraph and pretending like that makes any sense; as long as it works for them, it should be fine*

We have time.

A: *she smiles and sighs and relaxes into Emily's couch, into the pleasant pressure against her, the fiery kiss and oh so delicious familiarity in her touch, her soft words and the hunger flashing in her eyes- after resigning herself to fading into nothingness trapped within the prison of her own mind, Ass is soaking in every sensation. The idea of a shower together is exceptionally tempting- it's exciting new territory, and she's not so tired that- ah. Right*

I am incapable of granting privacy but, if it's any consolation, I've seen your memories and will remain silent for the duration. It's as close as I can give you presently.

A: *she smiles, ignoring Shamira for the moment* "Keep that shower idea on the backburner for now, Sweetheart. We're gonna try that soon but bath sounds great for now. Then... make a pot of coffee. I can't sleep quite yet."

You should. You're exceptionally tired. It took an impressive amount of mental strength to break through the shielding that should've kept you in, not to mention prying it open in the first place. I never slept, so your body-

A: "Shamira, please, shut up." *she sighs, shaking her head* "You know I'm just going to argue with you, you can read my thoughts, right?"

I can interpret your intentions but you speak straight from the heart. The lack of careful wording makes it difficult for me to understand.

A: "Okay, so you can't read my mind perfectly, good to know, but you damn well know none of us can sleep until we've talked about... this." *she makes a vague gesture to herself and then looks up at Emily* "Shamira can't, like, disconnect- she's always gonna be aware of what I'm aware of and she's not comfortable seeing you naked in the flesh just yet."

I have said no such thing.

A: "You're not the only one with a vague feeling, dipshit." *she rolls her eyes* "Literal fuckin' asshole." *she refocuses her attention on Emily, running her hands along the seraph's sides, trying to soothe her- and herself in the same measure* "I do wanna cuddle. I wanna just bury myself inside of you and lose myself for a bit."

Okay, that mental image was entirely unnecessary.

A: "But, Shamira's not quite there yet." *she tilts her head, then shrugs* "Although, she really liked you tossing her through portals."

And that revelation was also unnecessary!

A: *she smirks* "There's nothing I want to do more than pick up right where we left off- we went to the big fancy party, now it's time for us to have some fun." *she wants to waggle her eyebrows but... instead, her expression pinches* "But... Shamira tried for me, even when she wasn't really sure what I even was, so I... kinda owe her. And- she wasn't able to talk to you before. Now, she can, and I feel like she has some things she'd like to say."

I am under no obligation to cooperate.

A: *to be fair, that was true, but she knew an easy way around that bit of stubbornness* "Do you want to talk to Shamira, Em?"

((@ask-emily-em-emmy))

[stromuprisahat]

Lucien

Third wheel to Feylin, spends the beginning of ACoMaF trapped between rock and hard place, trying not to stand up to Tamlin, his liege, failing to help Feyre or deal with his own shit.

Chapter 2

Feyre dares to ask for permission to leave the manor.

Chapter 3

She’s not allowed to test her new strengths. If Lucien can run three miles in few minutes, and she’s likely to be able to keep up with him, what’s the point of horses? Two thinks come to mind:

She won’t learn her boundaries, so she’ll stay in her human-ish ones.

A Lady doesn’t run, she’s moved elsewhere, paraded around, then moved back.

Feyre’s afraid to be weak, she thinks she’s damaged beyond repair. People around, pushing her into the role of some fragile flower, won’t help.

Lucien does what he’s ordered, not considering the impact on Feyre. Understandable. Acceptable in a soldier, not her friend.

Another word for “rules, rankings, and order” is repression. Tamlin’s the High Lord, his word is law, there’s no one forcing him to keep Feyre on such a short leash. Only his own fear.

Lucien: Look how bad Tam has it!

Feyre: Yeah, but it makes ~me~ feel like this!

Lucien: Well, you’re wrong...

“That’s not how it is and you know it.” is NOT how you persuade someone they’re safe and free, that’s affirming their fears with a drop of gaslighting.

It’s a thankless job to play a middle man, but Lucien seems to have picked a side. And he’s certainly NOT Feyre’s ally at the moment.

Again, this is just explaining why is Tamlin succumbing to his fears. Why are all those restrictions logical. Who cares about Feyre’s feelings? She obviously has them, because she doesn’t understand Tam’s difficult situation. No matter how irrational he is.

This is straight up offensive. When did Feyre wanna become a passive figure? Just some eye candy on High Lord’s arm?! She abandoned life in comfort to risk her own life to save the whole stupid Prythian, ff’s sake!

In a nutshell- Feyre’s to become a tool, accesory of her husband.

Ianthe has quite a lot of influence over Tamlin. Priestess, who’s been living with them for three months is trusted enough to know the people sufficiently to be able to decide if they can pay. I’m starting to doubt soundness of Tamlin’s judgement, not just his emotional self-control.

Okay, but what’s the point of all this, aside from making Feyre feel uneducated, less, lacking? Even worse- she’s already self-conscious due to her illiteracy, lack of knowledge will be understandably a sore spot.

If Tamlin knows this situation isn’t sustainable, he has a funny way of showing it.

Talk to him? Except Feyre tried to, and she’s told he won’t discuss that with her and leaves the conversation.

How deliberate is the choice of Lucien as Feyre’s guard and middleman between her and Tamlin’s oppressing tendencies? The person, who’s likely to see Tam’s side better? The duty won’t be his main drive, for him it’s personal.

Not to mention Lucien’s damaged enough to think lying in relationship is excusable.

Helping those people was supposed to be Feyre’s way to “learn to live again”. Instead she’s treated as an obstacle of their healing. She gave up everything and got blind worship and rejection in return.

The only way forward Feyre’s allowed to pursue, is completely out of her hands. Tied up in expectations, rules and traditions she cannot break or even only bend.

[brodependent]

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam: a meta

Much as I love reading good meta, I don’t often write meta. Thus please accept my apologies if this is mediocre, and let me start with a simple topic sentence:

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam.

A little longer, now: Sam is even better at loving Dean than Dean is at loving Sam because of Dean’s profound and abiding love for Sam.

Confusing, right? But not really.

We all know how Dean lives and breathes SammySammySammywatchoutforSammy. It’s his defining mission, his ultimate purpose, or, as a therapist might say, his “core belief.” But sometimes I think that we allow adult!Dean too little autonomy. We assume that he can’t help himself: he’s locked into this single-minded focus, on loving and protecting the only family he has left.

That sells Dean short. (Hang in there, I promise I’ll get to Sam in a moment.)

Even people who have been forced into a certain way of life have choices. Even people who have been told who they are all their life have choices. Dean tells us, in Season 14, I’m good with who I am--and I, for one, believe him. Whether we follow canon all the way to 15x17, when Dean is finally brought back from the edge of his desire for revenge against Chuck by his love for Sam (the only thing that’s “real”), or whether we keep to season 1 when Dean said--that’s all we have...that’s all I have... and I want us to be a family again and as long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you--Dean has always accepted his role as Sam’s big brother. Dean’s life is unabashedly Sam-centric. He’d change a lot of things, but in the end he’d change nothing, because he wouldn’t change that. 

Some fans get very het up about the codependent aspect of this. Others (in my opinion, rightly) defend it. There’s scads of meta on why the Winchester dynamic IS necessary for their mythic role in the narrative, and their human role in the narrative (more importantly), so I won’t write that meta now. All I’m saying is what I think you already know: Dean lives for Sam, his baby brother, and despite the grief, the growing pains, the occasional cruelty of desperate love, Dean said it all when he told Sam (and us), Don’t you ever think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you.

So where does that leave Sam, and his love for Dean? Let’s start with that line I just quoted. Building on the above, Dean’s goal in life is to give Sam a life. He wants Sam to be happy. He wants him to be free. He also wants to keep him by his side forever, to control him for safety and comfort’s sake, and sometimes those instincts of a frightened-child-turned-traumatized-man win out. Dean isn’t perfect. Dean’s full of contradictions. But time and again he goes back to stone number one: what he can do for Sam. What he can offer Sam, by being the grunt, by standing in harm’s way. 

When we begin the story, Sam has succeeded in the path Dean helped carve for him. I’m not taking all the credit from Sam here, and giving it Dean: merely pointing out that Dean stepped into traditional parental roles and helped send Sam into adulthood, even though that meant Sam leaving him. We know that the night Sam left for Stanford was one of the worst of Dean’s life, but even in mid-season 1, Dean tells Sam he’s proud of him. You always know what you want. You stand up to Dad. Hell, sometimes I wish I--

(this, of course, is beautifully echoed in the series finale itself)

Dean is telling Sam what so many parents tell their children: you have gone places I never could, accomplished goals I never could, grown in grace and understanding like I never could. At least, I like to think that’s what the best parents tell their children.

To Dean, Sam is always the one with more hope. More wholeness. More options. To Sam, Dean is stone number one. 

You asked how Sam loves Dean, and my answer is: just look. Look at how Sam goes out into the world young, stands up to their father, makes his own decisions, fights back against Dean’s own nihilistic narrative through their primary losses and setbacks. Dean gave Sam the safety to build a better worldview than Dean himself has, and Sam turns that right back around and tries to give it to Dean. 

What do you think my job is? You’re my big brother--there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. 

I can’t lose you.

You’re not a grunt, Dean, you’re a genius.

This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother.

I am going to save my brother. And then I’m going to kill you dead.

If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.

I believe in us.

This is just a small collection of Sam quotes showing his love for Dean. A small collection showing the persistent theme of Sam’s persistence. He knows that pushing chick-flick moments and emotional conversations can get jokes for a dime a dozen, and even the occasional punch thrown his way. He keeps at it anyway. When Sam knows Dean’s hurting, he wants to help. He’d do anything to help. He won’t sit around and see his brother turn into an embittered killer (season 2), go to hell for saving his life (season 3), take on the Trials (season 8), be irrevocably corrupted by the Mark of Cain (seasons 9-10), let him despair (seasons 11 and 13), let him sacrifice himself to an archangel’s grave (season 14), or let him lose his goodness to the whims of a vicious god (season 15). Sam fights for Dean with full use of his considerable gifts--intelligence, rationality, resourcefulness, and yes, the occasional blind rage. Sam looks to Dean, first as a leader, then as a judge, and finally as an equal. Sam has been looking up to Dean since he was four, yes, but over the course of the show he comes to look at Dean. With love, peace, understanding, humor, pain...whatever their inimitable connection requires.

The quotes I noted above also reveal Sam’s own conflicts rear up. Sam and Dean (again, in my opinion) are equally developed characters. Both have flaws and inconsistencies. Both have struggles inherent to their personalities and upbringings, distinct from those imposed on them by supernatural forces. 

Sam had a glimpse of a different life, once. He had the smarts, he had the drive, he had the sheer stubbornness to live a different life than John or Azazel or hell, even Lucifer had planned for him. But also in Sam--innate in Sam--is his core of goodness and compassion and the principle of doing right, which leads him back into the life and to soul-crushing sacrifice again and again.

Sam breaks and is broken. Sam suffers and ages and spends more time in hell than even Dean, who went to protect him.

But what keeps Sam going? Dean. Dean can’t live without Sam. We know that. The flip side is that Sam doesn’t want to live without Dean. Importantly, I think, he has more choice in the matter. Dean focused his whole childhood identity on giving Sam a life that meant he had choices, even if Dean didn’t know he was doing that. Sam can move through more crowds, more roles, more relationships. He has a better education, he has a more powerful ability to intellectually reason and detach. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet he casts all this aside out of sheer willpower, choosing instead to love Dean and live with Dean through the chaos of their lives, and to go near mad when Dean is gone. Consider Sam in season 4, Sam in season 10...Sam in season 8 trying to atone for the very choice that Dean (the best part of Dean) wanted him to make, even if the real muddle of Dean’s psyche couldn’t forgive him, for a time, for making it.

All of this leads us to the finale. 

You said you wish Sam had said I love you back to Dean in the finale. I argue that he did. He made his love perfectly clear to Dean in that moment by holding his hand, by looking in his eyes. He said, you can go now, when all he wanted was for Dean to stay. 

The best part of Dean wanted Sam to have happiness and freedom. At the end of his life, Dean was finally able to communicate that without fear or reservation. 

But the bittersweet brilliance of that moment is that Sam--the Stanford boy who went to hell and back, who saved the world, brought down one god and raised another--no longer wanted any kind of happiness or freedom that didn’t include the one person who’d been by his side all along. Dean was giving his blessing for a path that didn’t beckon Sam anymore. And yet: Sam said yes to it out of the love for Dean. Sam went out of that barn, out of the bunker, out of that day and that year and that decade and into the next and the next, out of love for Dean. Sam loved Dean by living. He loved Dean by raising another Winchester. He loved Dean by holding all their contradictions, flaws, and heroisms in his heart (in their car), until he’d done what he set out to do many times over. 

Then he met Dean on a mended bridge, dressed in old clothes that said: I was happiest at the beginning. I was happiest when we could be brothers again. I took my time getting here anyway, because I know that was what you wanted. I took my time so that we could be happiest now.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

[holylulusworld]

Congratulations to reach 12000 folllowers! For the Drabble can I request a werewolf reader is afraid of Dean because he is a hunter that kills species like her, despite she never harmed any human in her life? How it turned out is entirely up to you, thank you.

Born under a bad sign

12,000 followers 2021 New Year’s resolutions drabble prompts

Summary: You are hiding your true nature from Dean. What happens when he ever finds out who you really are?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Werewolf!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, unnamed werewolf

Warnings: angst, language, scared reader, angry Dean, violence, blood, characters death, a hint of fun

New Year’s Resolution: Stop lying.

Words: 1030

“Y/N, hurry up. We need to catch that bastard,” Dean pants, chasing after the guy stealing your purse. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to get your stuff back?”

“I-I,” you can still scent the man stealing your purse. He’s not a normal guy wanting your money or phone. No, that one is a treacherous little snake working for your family. “We should just let him get away with it. I barely had five bucks in my wallet and my phone is old, Dean. It’s just not worth it.”

“You killed vampires, ghouls, and other monsters only to what – run for the hills as a drunk dude stole your purse?” wondering why you don’t want to go after the man Dean furrows his brows. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Dean please don’t get mad, but I know that guy,” you shuffle from one foot to the other. “He works for my family, and I guess they found me again. Running away doesn’t work for too long. Past always catches up, ya know.”

“Wait, you know that guy?” gasping Sam watches his brother pressure you to answer his questions. “What’s so terrifying about your family? Why do you never talk about them?”

“You see, it’s their lifestyle, Dean. Just like your father forced you to become hunters and follow his orders, my family wanted me to follow our traditions and so on. But I just didn’t want to be like them. I can control my nature,” you bite your tongue, fearing the time has come to reveal your true nature.

“Nature? I don’t understand, sweetheart. You are a hunter, a sweet girl, and a librarian. What do you mean with nature?”

“I-I’m not like you and Sam,” you whisper the words. “Unlike my family and their friends, I want to protect people and not harm them but I’m not a normal human.”

“Is your family a bunch of serial killers?” Dean snickers, poking your chest. “Come on, Y/N. Family can be a pain in the ass, just look at Sammy,” you giggle for a moment but then your eyes fill with tears. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You will hate me,” you sniff, clutching your hands to your chest. “I swear, I never hurt anyone. I keep my needs and instinct under control. I only need to eat one per month. For the rest of the time, I’m a normal girl. Well, as normal as I can be.”

“Normal girl? One per month?” the hunter huffs now, obviously annoyed. “Spill it, speedy. I don’t want to spend the night out here. Give me something.”

“I-I,” you stutter, looking at Sam for help. He found out about your secret a few months ago, and simply observed you. Sam wanted to be sure you are no threat to them and not kill you only as he’s a hunter. “I’m a werewolf, a pureblood.”

“No—” Dean shakes his head in disbelief, gun aimed at your heart seconds later. “How could she trick us for so long, Sammy?” looking at his brother, Dean knows Sam was hiding your true nature from him. “Sammy?”

“I found out a few months ago, Dean. She’s no harm,” Sam tries to protect you. “She eats animal hearts once per month. That’s all. Please, she can control her change. She’s a pureblood, not one of those changed beasts losing control.”

“She's a werewolf,” you wince when Dean looks at you like you are a monster. This is the moment you always feared. “We got to kill her.”

“We didn’t kill Garth or his wife,” the younger brother interjects. “Garth got bitten and must control his instinct. Y/N easily controls her true nature. She never harmed anyone, Dean. Maybe she’s more human than one of us.”

“How can you—” dropping his head Dean shakes it lightly. “All those months I believed we are friends. Now you are just another monster.”

“Then kill me,” whispering the words you drop to your knees. “If anyone does kill me, it should be you. I’m done running away from my family. They want me to come back and be like them. I rather die than killing innocent people.”

“Get back up,” the hunter growls. “Show a bit of self-control. Die like a proud beast.”

“Dean, don’t—” Sam pleads. “She can just go away and never come back. Please don’t do this, Dean. Trust me for once.”

“I trust you, Sammy,” Dean unlocks the gun, swallowing thickly when you close your eyes. “But I can’t trust her.”

“Just do it,” you beg, whimpering when you catch the other wolf’s scent. “NO!” you suddenly jump up to dash past Dean, taking the hunter by surprise.

He twirls around to watch your hands, turn into claws. You howl, jumping at the werewolf who tried to sneak behind Dean.

“Y/N!” Sam runs after you, watches you slam your fist into the werewolf's chest, growling at him. “Ohmygod!”

“He-he wanted to hurt Dean,” you sniff, ripping the wolf’s heart out, looking at it for a moment . “I never killed like that before.”

“Y/N,” Dean watches you drop the heart, panicking when you smell the wolf’s blood on you.

“No—no! Blood, so much blood,” you cry. “I-I need to get it off me! I don’t want it on me. Help! Please help me!”

“Sweetheart,” watching your hands change back to normal Dean secures his gun. “You need to get up, okay. People heard the bastard scream,” he grasps for you, drags you away from the dead wolf. “Sammy, look for Y/N’s purse. They can’t find it.”

“What now?” you feel your head spinning. “I killed him. OhgodIkilledsomeone!”

“A werewolf, a bad one,” Dean helps you walk toward his car. “So — uh, you’re a good wolf? A nice puppy? Will you lie in the back and not chew on my seats?” you nod silently, not wanting Dean to get mad again. "We will have a serious conversation when we are back at the bunker."

“Dean can you just not—“ Sam groans when Dean snickers at his brother’s words. “She’s not an animal.”

“What?” Dean cocks his head. “You always wanted a dog. Now I got you a nice well-behaved wolf.”

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok, Hades gameplay reaction time!

(Because I have been terrible this quarantine year about posting thoughts about stories I've been invested in, and I'm really enjoying this game, and I'm playing basically blind and I have theories, and what is tumblr for if not recording those things to look back on later.)

I love this specific kind of fantasy/speculative fiction, that straddles the line between 'allegory clearly designed to explore a real-world issue' and 'the themes of this reflect real-world issues but also everything is times one million for drama and setting's sake'. I love it so much. Because, look, this is a story about a teenager/young adult trying to gather up the skills and resources and help he needs to escape his controlling, possessive, emotionally abusive father's house. That's it. Strip away all of the trappings, and that's what the story is about. By comparison, I think about Star Wars. (I love Star Wars too.) That's also a story about a dysfunctional fucked-up family dynamic. But that family is fucked up because dad went on a magic-corruption-induced killing spree, and his twin children were separated at birth to be raised in seclusion with the intention of someday taking him down, and look, that's cool, but it's definitely not how people actually are. All of the dysfunction in that family is an outgrowth of the fantastical setting, which means it is fantastical dysfunction. It can occasionally mirror or remind us of real-life interactions, but it's a fantasy. Which is great and fun to watch and very comforting and so on, but I don't necessarily want that in every story, and I love Hades because it is not that, at all. When you extend out the basic 'kid trying to escape his toxic home environment', Hades is the story of Zagreus trying to get out with the help of his dad's estranged, complicated, wealthy and powerful family, who are absolutely part of the reason why dad is Like That in the first place, and may not be any more reliable in the long run but who he needs right now. And his stepmom and teacher, who love him enough to help him leave, unconditionally and supportively (ask me how many feelings I have about 'look, Hades can't hurt me for helping you, don't worry about me, I am going to take care of you and that means helping you get out of this house' coming from an adult authority figure, ask me). And his dad's employees, who like him but also have to fear the old man's wrath, and walk that line in different places the best they can. And stepmom's long-estranged parent, because this is a story about families and how they split apart and come back together. And all of that is so real, so grounded in actual, concrete, this-is-how-humans-work family dynamics. But it's also individual. The story works so well because Hades isn't just a silhouette of the controlling asshole father; he is clearly The Way He Is for reasons, complicated ones, good and bad alike. The Way He Is has details, particularities, paperwork, a dog he pretends not to love and rely on. He is specific. Nyx and Achilles are specific, not just generic kind stepmom here to be a trope inversion and cardboard cutout teacher. Nyx has backstory and personality of her own, Achilles has a complex history, opinions, a missing lover, and they BOTH have very particular relationships with Hades that aren't just boilerplate script. Yes, there's abstraction there, you meet these characters in brief visual novel-esque three-line conversations over the course of dozens of escape runs, of course there's abstraction--but there's the very real sense that all of these people have nuance, have good and bad days, that they've made choices to be who they are, even if we don't know what those choices are yet. And, like Star Wars, some of the ways in which this story is so specific rely entirely on the fact of the otherworldly setting! I've seen stories that go the other way, that try to use their setting entirely as window dressing, and they end up feeling so flat I can't even remember them right now because they don't let the environment lend complexity and nuance to their characters at all. The environment these characters live in matters. The absolute control Hades exerts over his surroundings is a divine power. The fact that everyone Zag runs into, for or against him, is either immortal or immortally dead, changes how the react to

one another and to the situation at hand. The shape of his attempted escapes (gauntlet combat with a variety of legendary weapons) might be an allegorical construct of the genre, true, but it doesn't work in any sort of real-world setting where there exists the possibility of authority figures above or aside from Hades and his extended fucked-up family. That's part of why the family is so fucked-up in the first place. But these changes still fit well within the realm of, 'yeah, if you took this extremely real-life dynamic and added these factors to it, I can envision people doing this thing'. I can envision these specific people doing this thing. They add to the specificity of these characters. Letting them be influenced by their unreal surroundings makes them more real. So hell yes for good storytelling!!!!

I'm still relatively early in the game (by which I mean I'm like thirty runs in but only just got past Meg for the third time, because I am not good at this game, although in my defense it's only the seventh video game and second button-mashing game I have ever played in my life so there's that), but I'm starting to develop suspicions about Persephone. Because, look, outside of Persephone's absence from the underworld, this story knows its Greek mythology, uses it, revels in it. And there is some kind of mystery still shrouding Persephone leaving in the first place. She left a goodbye to Cerberus in her letter but not to her own son. Nyx has warned Zagreus multiple times not to let the Olympians know she's his mother. He literally never even knew she existed. That's complicated! Add to that, Persephone left--the exact thing we are trying and failing to do again and again and again. She left with one note, which means either she managed a one-shot speedrun out of the entire realm or she had some other way to leave, because if she'd washed up in the Styx pool to plod back to her room and try again, she wouldn't've needed to leave the note in the first place. And, you know, she's Persephone. Really quite famous for leaving the Underworld! Also quite famous for being forced back. So. I'm wondering if Zagreus, so conspicuously absent from her goodbye, has something to do with it after all. Six pomegranate seeds condemned Persephone to six months, half a year, half her life. I wonder if a child that's half of her her constitutes a fitting trade instead. Which, of course Hades would be even more resentful and dismissive and cruel to the kid he got in place of the wife he loved (who he chased away by being cold in the first place). Of course Persephone would have difficulty saying goodbye to her son in those circumstances. It would make sense. The tricky thing here is how the Olympians fit into it, because I also suspect the rift between Hades and Zeus sprang from Persephone's departure. And yet, if the Olympians never knew Zagreus existed, let alone that he's Persephone's son--how can he count as payment into the deal in their eyes? So in that case, what does Zeus think is the justification for Persephone leaving, after the pomegranate thing? Or are we just not doing the pomegranate thing at all? It would be a shame to lose it entirely, out of a story that really seems to enjoy the myths it's playing with. And there should be something complex here, something more than simply 'mom fucked off and left because dad sucked and now I'm following her because same'. It feels more complex than that. 'Mom and dad had a baby to try and save their marriage, it didn't work, but when mom left she had to leave me behind because otherwise dad would have gotten the cops and her extended family involved' feels more right, while still just as grounded in reality as the story has been so far.

I sort of want to write some meta about how each of the six legendary weapons corresponds to their original divine wielder, but I haven't unlocked all of their codex entries yet (look I am very bad with ranged weapons in this game ok, I am working on it), and I still need to think about the details. Aside from, of course, fuck yes of course Hestia's the one with the railgun. Leave drama and elegance and traditional weaponry to her brothers and sister (Demeter, who knows how to get her hands dirty, gets a pass). Hestia is out here to get shit done. With a grenade launcher.

[amateurasstrologer]

BY REQUEST # 10 SATURN (IN THE HOUSES)

Alright y’all, let’s set the record straight about Saturn.

First: tell me a word more powerful than “no” - you can’t. That shit is unmovable. And that’s Saturn operating in your life. Saturn is a fortress - it’s the boundaries you need to respect if you want to get your life right and really work your shit out. Saturn tells you “no” - this mf wants to stop you from getting caught up in a bunch of bullshit and guide you towards getting your life right.

Saturn is structure and form. This planet is a prompt. Anyone who‘s ever tried to make anything, have a conversation, you already know: completely open ended shit gets old. We need direction, questions, structure. Those really juicy, really specific ideas and direct questions that seem to crack your brain right open and let your creativity spill out onto the sidewalk? Saturn, people.

Now, yes, too much structure can end up feeling like a foot on a neck. And this is where that "Saturn is limitations” idea comes into play. Yes, Saturn is working with limits, but they’re not meant to stifle you or make you turn and run in the opposite direction. Too much rigidity is too much rigidity - Saturn is meant to give you just enough gravity to hold your life together, not to stop you from being able to move entirely. Saturn taken too far always ends in traditional thinking, rigidity, and cracks in the foundation. Saturn wants to keep shit stable, but too much stability doesn’t leave enough room for change.

Still, the more we want to hate Saturn for being a crusty dick of a planet, the more we’re fooling ourselves into thinking that we don’t need any stability and beauty in our lives. Yes, bitches, beauty. When it’s operating right, Saturn helps you organize your shit into something meaningful - something beautiful and real - so your life can stop looking like a gross mess and tone the fuck up.

Saturn rules Capricorn. Why? Because Capricorn takes Sag’s ideas and philosophies and turns that shit into something real, something livable, something sharable. And, of course, it’s no wonder that Jupiter rules Sag - the relationship between Jupiter and Saturn is the same as the relationship between Sag and Capricorn: Jupiter helps you to mature, cooperate, and open up your mind to new ideas. Saturn helps you take that maturation and creativity and turn it into something real - Salty Saturn gives you a prompt, some walls to work within, so maturing doesn’t feel so scary and confusing. Saturn is your expectations - it helps you focus your development.

It’s not enough to think about it and talk about it, at some point, you gotta be about it. That’s where Saturn comes in to help you take those ideas, desires, fantasies and turn them into something real. Saturn isn’t a fake bitch, and that’s really why it gets a bad rap. This mf is serving you harsh truth, tough love realness every day of the week. When you’re ready to become an actual person in the world instead of continuing to live out your favorite delusion, call Saturn. Let this wonderful planet give you some structure and tell you “no, stop it,” before you get completely out of control and total yourself.

As always, particulars for the party people:

SATURN IN THE FIRST (1) fortifies your self-image so you can actually figure out how your individual life fits within the bigger picture. You got a message and you are ready to preach it, baby. Always working to get feelings and actions in alignment, unshakably strong sense of purpose. When you don’t respect the “no”: 100% crazy, allowing rigid-ass values and outdated beliefs to define your self-worth, fear of failure gets you lying to yourself to make it.

SATURN IN THE SECOND (2) fortifies your understanding of the past so you can actually organize, structure, and utilize that shit. Personal circumstances have collective meaning, always making your past experiences relevant, past experiences as the foundation for present direction and success. When you don’t respect the “no”: crushed under an inescapable sense of destiny, can’t make sense of anything that’s happened to you, repressing any meaningful feelings in exchange for getting caught up some fake shit.

SATURN IN THE THIRD (3) fortifies your fucking brain so you can actually approach your surroundings in a practical and organized way. Smart as shit, open minded, ready to understand and discuss anything. When you don’t respect the “no”: mental rigidity, imposing your narrow-ass point of view on your environment, fucked around and imprisoned yourself in traditional thinking and/or living in total chaos.

SATURN IN THE FOURTH (4) fortifies your inner-life so you can actually develop a genuine identity and form a rock-solid connection with yourself. Able to take deep, ambiguous feelings and direct that shit into fantastic works of art, projects, and/or true self-understanding. When you don’t respect the “no”: never letting anyone but all the wrong people in, Academy Award for Living a Total-Ass Lie, over-attached to social norms and superficial personality standards.

SATURN IN THE FIFTH (5) fortifies your self-expression so you can actually influence and inspire the people around you. Reserved, receptive, magnetic, understanding, charming. When you don’t respect the “no”: can’t express a genuine feeling to save your life, forcing yourself into traditional roles to save yourself from the struggle of creating and living an authentic life, completely unrealistic self-perception.

SATURN IN THE SIXTH (6) fortifies your focus on self-improvement so you can actually get yourself into a better, more stable place. Never met a change you couldn’t counter and conquer, practical guidance and support available on demand. When you don’t respect the “no”: locked yourself into an unchangeable position, unwilling to acknowledge the truth in other people’s experiences, clinging to the past like a leech.

SATURN IN THE SEVENTH (7) fortifies your approach to relationships so you can actually experience the transformative power of genuine relationships (with anything or anyone). Seriously responsible, supportive, constructive, and a complete joy to be around. When you don’t respect the “no”: passivity to the point of identity listed as Total Loss, zero accountability for how your actions affect other people, choosing fear-based relationships like it’s your damn job.

SATURN IN TH EIGHTH (8) fortifies your social awareness so you can actually manage and organize collective resources and feelings. Physically feeling and articulating collective emotions, source of inspiration and comfort for everyone around you, genius level ability to take care of fucking business. When you don’t respect the “no”: the most unhealthy power dynamics, making people rely on you and then resenting them for it, letting yourself get pushed around by circumstances, getting your victim on.

SATURN IN THE NINTH (9) fortifies your ability to focus on what matters to you so you can actually find some deeper meaning in life. Got the support you need to develop a rock-solid understanding of your experiences, effectively share what you’ve learned, and come up with entirely new beliefs and value systems that let you live a freer, happier life. When you don’t respect the “no”: never trusting your own decisions ever, living in perpetual confusion, infinite disappointment because you decided on unlivable values, beliefs and ideals.

SATURN IN THE TENTH (10) fortifies your perspective on social roles so you can actually influence and sustain relationships. Utilizing defined roles to express personal feelings, breaking down the existing order of things in favor of more effective, productive standards, got the power to bring people together. When you don’t respect the “no”: using outdated values to justifying staying in relationships and roles that are actually unfulfilling, acting like you know when you 100% do not know, totally unwilling to acknowledge alternative approaches.

SATURN IN THE ELEVENTH (11) fortifies your management abilities so you can actually organize and direct people, places, things (and your own life) like a boss bitch. Practical, realistic approaches to any crisis, equip with an arsenal of creative solutions ready to unload, displaying spiritual values through tangible actions. When you don’t respect the “no”: uses outdated values and beliefs to justify inaction, refuses to rise to the occasion, always convincing yourself any productive, quality of life improving actions will be useless.

SATURN IN THE TWELFTH (12) fortifies your subconscious so you can actually shatter all forms of traditional conditioning and embody spiritual values. No tolerance for fake shit. When you don’t respect the “no”: fucked around and isolated yourself from everyone, permanently barred yourself from living in reality, permanently cock-blocking yourself, denial level: unbreakable.

Does all this shit feel familiar? Good. It should. Everyone experiences all of these phases at different points. Where Saturn hangs in your Natal just lets you know which phase is going to be the most prevalent throughout your life.

Happy charting, bitches.

XO BULLSHIT FREE ASTROLOGY

[jordanstrophe]

Hey I was wondering how do you think Walter would celebrate Gabriel's birthday if at all?

Gah! Y-you.. You know I can't not write this!  You know too much   Of course he would celebrate his only child’s birthday!

CW: Whump, held captive, drugging slightly referenced, parental, possessive, creepy intimate whumper.

Masterlist

Gabriel scrubbed away at the pile of dishes. Even for just the two of them, they generate quite a lot somehow. Maybe if Walter didn't get a new cup for every single tea he drinks in a day there wouldn't be so much...

He froze with a gasp when he felt two arms slither around his waist and a chin settle on his shoulder.

"Darling! I- oh, this is going to sound embarrassing. But I realized I never asked... When is your birthday?" He murmured with shame.

Gabriel slowly lowered the plate in his hands as his face went pale.

It was tomorrow.

“In a few months.” Gabriel smiled, before quickly grabbed a cup, hoping if he appeared busy it would be the end of the conversation. 

“Gabriel.” 

He froze the second he heard Walter’s tone. 

He was in trouble. 

A hand wrapped around his chin and forced his head around. “Don’t ever lie to me again. Do you understand?” He hissed.

“I understand.” Sweat beamed on his brow, he didn’t have the bravery to make eye contact. Walter’s thumb traced his lips as Gabriel forced himself to be still.

“If I catch these lips lying to me again, I’ll either wash it out with soap, or into the basement you go until you learn to respect me, got it?”

“Yes sir!” Gabriel yelped. 

“Good boy... Now my dear! This is very important.” His hands cupped both his cheeks with a pinch.

“When is your birthday?” 

Gabriel took a deep breath. Walter really wasn’t kidding when he said he could catch anyone in a lie. 

“It's.. To-tomorrow.” He gulped.

“It’s to-" Walter repeated back in a stutter.His expression went pale and his eyes went wide. He was stuck frozen in time as Gabriel was starting to get worried about him.

“W-Walter?” 

“IT’S TOMORROW!?” He shrieked as Gabriel jumped. 

“Oh have mercy! My baby! You’re growing up so fast!” He squished his cheeks even more. “Ah! There’s so much to do, so little time! I have to bake a cake and set up some kind of decoration, you need presents!” He hollard.

“I-I-It’s fine! I don’t need anything, really! I never did anything big in the past anyway.” Gabriel folded his arms uncomfortably.

“What? You never-... You.” He fumbled over his words. 

Oh, the pressure was on. 

The next morning after Gabriel had made his bed and sorted his clothes, he found his bedroom door, locked.

“E-eh?” He murmured, jostling the door back and forth. “Walter!” He called. “I think the door is jammed!”

“It’s not jammed, it’s locked!” Walter called back from the other side.

“... What?!” Gabriel cried. “Why? What did I do?” He thought back to everything he had done that could have been bad that week. Was it because of the lie?!

“Nothing dear! Just stay there for the day, okay? There’s books and tea on your dresser.” He could hear Walter clambering with things in the living room. He cranked his head around, sure enough there was a stack of books and steaming tea with bread and honey on a plate. 

How did he even get that there without waking him up? He sighed as he collapsed back on his bed with a book. Today was going to be a boring day. 

Several hours passed as Gabriel let out a goan with his face pressed into the pages. 

*click* the door sounded behind him. His head slowly lifted his head as he glanced back waiting for Walter to burst through. 

But there was nothing but silence.

He crept up, his heart thumping in his chest as his fingers twitched reaching for the doorknob. Was he even allowed out? 

Nothing held the nob back as he pushed it open. His eyes glinted with light as he saw the living room dazzling with a warm gleam.

It wasn’t the traditional cheap streamers or neon balloons, nor burst of color or obnoxious music. 

Instead, there were beautiful crafted lanterns draped from the ceiling, a warm yellow glow filling the dark cabin. Dim fairy lights rounded the table in the center spotlighting a gorgeous three tier cake worthy of a wedding. A soft yet happy tune playing from the record player in the kitchen. 

His hands clutched nervously as his shirt collar as he wandered around in wonder. It was like a fairy tale! 

“Happy birthday, Gabriel.” A voice spoke behind him. He whirled around to find Walter with a smile plastered on his face leaning against the archway between the living room and kitchen.

“Do you like it?” He leaned his head against the wall.

“I-.. I love it!” He gasped, he couldn’t help but to bob up and down a little. Walter chuckled as he sat down at the couch, waving him over as Gabriel tucked himself beside him.

“It was a bit last-second, but I wanted you to have something nice. You deserve it.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. He handed him a perfectly wrapped box with reflective paper and a shiny ribbon bow. 

“I don’t understand how you made all of this so quickly, the cake too?” He asked, as Walter nodded with a smile. He was a phenomenal baker, after all. 

Gabriel looked down at the delightful looking box in his hands. As pretty and innocent as it looked, he couldn’t help but to be terrified of whatever continents it may contain. 

This was from Walter, after all.

His hands trembled as he pulled the ribbed, undoing the bow that peeled itself off the box. 

What if it was something to control him?

He broke the first tapped seal as he unfolded the wrapper.

What if it was something to hurt him?

He swallowed his fear as he ripped the box open, squeezing his eyes shut.

What if it was something cruel?  

His eyes fluttered open to see a bag of coffee grounds. 

“YES!” Gabriel shouted, raising the bag in his hands like it was Simba.

“Thank you! Thank you so so much!” He cried, cradling the coffee bag in his arms. 

“Oh! You-.... You’re welcome!” Walter stuttered. “I- I didn’t think you would like it that much! I know you weren’t a huge fan of the tea. You’re more of a coffee child.” Walter shrugged with a chuckle. 

Maybe if he didn’t drug him with tea the first time, he would have been more of a fan.

“Hey hey! You got one more, come sit back down.” Walter coaxed as Gabriel was still parading around the room. His excitement got killed, but he did as he was told. 

He set another thinly wrapped gift in his hands. Gabriel wasted no time delaying the inevitable as he tore through it. In his hands laid the newest edition of the book series he was reading! He didn’t even know the next book was out! 

He gasped as he quickly flipped through the pages to get a glance at some of the sketched art in the back. 

"Aa! One more thing.” Walter murmured, disappearing into the kitchen. Gabriel hardly paid attention, he was taking in every detail of the pictures and reading the descriptions. He stopped when he felt something soft get thrown over his shoulder, a warm fuzzy red blanket. He cranked his head up in confusion to look at Walter, standing behind him from the couch.

“I didn’t have enough paper to get it wrapped.” He smiled, ruffling his hair. 

“Alright! Who wants cake?” Walter asked, clapping his hands together. “Because I do.” He grumbled, taking a knife to cut a slice. He felt something press into his back as he gasped, glancing around to see Gabriel, slowly and nervously attempt to give him a hug without giving away the fact he was scared and trembling. 

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Walter bit his lip as he wiped away a tear. 

“Y-Your very welcome, son. Happy birthday.”

The whole rest of the day, Gabriel laid curled up on the couch wrapped in his blanket, a fresh coffee cup in hand with the book laying in front of him. His feet rocking back and forth in the air with content. 

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry  @whump-it @kixngiggles @as-a-matter-of-whump  @five-fictions-5-9 @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @thelazywitchphotographer  @sophierose002 ​

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 5

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Wrong Answer

Readers who have read novels such as transmigration, quick transmigration, and system plotlines, know that if the fate of the character in the story must be changed, it should be prevented before the character's tragic fate has occurred. However, Song Qingshi interpreted this as the event having already occurred, and was meant to save the character who had already suffered a tragic fate. This train of thought meant that his decision was a thousand miles off.

In the original book, Yue Wuhuan only appeared three times:

The first time was when the shou protagonist had just been sold to Golden Phoenix Manor. When he saw the unbearable scene of Yue Wuhuan being played with by the guests, his three views shattered.

The second time was when the protagonist's naive illusion of the future was destroyed and he was forced to accept his identity because of the ridicule and humiliating remarks of Yue Wuhuan.

The third time, Yue Wuhuan was taken out by Jin FeiRen on the Langgan stage to treat the guests and was accidentally torn to pieces by the demon tiger. Jin FeiRen concealed the actual explanation of the demon tiger's madness and treated it as a deliberately arranged game for the banquet. With this extreme fear, he shattered the last trace of the protagonist's dignity, making him completely surrender and become a plaything.

In short, Yue Wuhuan was a small supporting role with little substance, leaving the plot early, using his degeneracy to offset the beauty of the protagonist. His beauty was only like that of a beautiful flower that was about to wither. How can it be compared with the pure and clean flower bud that had not yet bloomed in the dawn?

This was a super simple multiple-choice question that every reader could figure out!

If the system was a living thing and watching over the exam being taken, it would be so angry that it would have come out and beaten that foolish Song Qingshi to death.

Scholar-Tyrant Song didn't know that he had drifted so far from the original goal, but he was still eagerly confident, trying to do his best and vowing to get a perfect score!

On the way back to the Valley of the Medicine King, Song Qingshi had recalled all the memories of his original body and integrated it with its massive knowledge of medicine and alchemy. There were rare and exotic herbs and miraculous medicines in the cultivation world. However, similar to traditional Chinese medicine, even if the medicine worked wonders, the science behind the effects of these medicines was still a mystery.

Modern medicine conducts systematic research on traditional Chinese medicine to find out the monarch-minister-auxiliary relationship within its components, extracted the useful ingredients in each concoction, and then developed medicine that was easier to take and had even better results.

A female scientist won the Nobel Prize for this, benefiting the world. Song Qingshi focused on modern medicine, leaped away from the traditional path of immortality, and quickly found new ideas for solving problems for many areas that the original body had failed to properly study. He used the Tiangong Pavilion to make modern scientific instrument substitutes, and then analyze the effective ingredients in the immortal medicines, purify them, research them, and even artificially synthesize them. . .

In Song Qingshi's mind, there were countless experimental schemes in an endless stream, and there were tens of thousands of books and inexhaustible medicinal materials in the Medicine King's Valley, as well as abundant research funds.

He was overjoyed, like a mouse that fell into a vat of rice. He wanted to kiss the system if he could.

Song Qingshi fully understood why the original body lived here, staying in such a cultivation paradise. He could live here for the rest of his life!

He could immerse himself in the ocean of intense studying and research every day. He could dedicate his life and soul to his favourite medical god. No one could send him back!

Song Qingshi looked at Yue Wuhuan in his arms. The more he looked at him, the more he loved him.

This was the big treasure that had given him everything! He would do everything he could to save him, just like his parents used to treat him before; indulged, spoiled, loved, and giving him all the good things he needed so that he can live a happy life like a prince in a fairy tale!

Song 'a father's love is like a mountain' Qingshi was full of ambition. He suppressed his excitement and immediately placed Yue Wuhuan in the side hall of his bedroom. He did everything by himself. First, he poured the elixir carefully with the crane-mouthed pot to re-invigorate the breath of life. Then he changed into white clothes, put on a homemade mask, and found a pair of extremely thin animal leather gloves. After he finished disinfecting the wounds, gently cut off the blood-soaked gauze and feather skirt on Yue Wuhuan's body with scissors, rinsed the wounds, and then sutured them with very fine silkworm thread. Then, he cut off the shackles and treated his ankle wounds.

Song Qingshi's movements were extremely gentle and quick, barely touching any skin, but Yue Wuhuan's body was extremely sensitive. He twitched slightly and groaned a few times before falling asleep again. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to take some blood samples for analysis, and also performed a full-body scan of him with his mental probe. He was a good-tempered person, but after seeing the disastrously ruined dantian and meridians in Yue Wuhuan's body, he couldn't help but curse darkly at those beasts. He scolded them repeatedly, thinking about how he was going to explain this situation to him once he woke up.

Song Qingshi was not good at communicating with strangers. He was able to make do when discussing his interests, but his thoughts often went blank when forced into small talk. For example, when everyone watched the popular men's group selection variety show together and argued over who was the male god?

He answered sincerely that it was Asclepius, the god of medicine. . .

Song Qing hasn't understood why everyone said he killed the conversation.

He thought hard for a long time and remembered that when his Lou Gerhig's hadn't been as advanced, he worked in a hospital for an internship. His senior brother knew that Song Qinshi was afraid of social interaction and would end up a stuttering mess when he tried to have conversations with his patients. He taught Song Qingshi: "Push down all of your feelings and act like a medical machine. First write down their case in detail and their treatment plan, recite it with a smile, and then end with a comforting sentence." Song Qingshi took this secret technique, practiced many times in front of the teacher, and, finally, he could talk to patients without fear.

A hospital is a place for treatment, just like how the Medicine King's Valley is a place for treatment. What's the difference?

After Song Qingshi had this epiphany, he replaced Yue Wuhuan’s bed sheets and bedding with the white ones commonly used in hospitals. He ordered the valley servant to make several sets of patient clothes, put them on by himself, and then tied roots on his wrist to represent the hospital information band. With a red wristband and a sign on the bed with "Special Care" and the instructions for how to care for him, Song Qingshi instantly felt calm in this makeshift hospital environment.

He wasn't comfortable with the type of care that the valley servantswere giving and took on nursing himself. He was careful and not afraid of getting tired. He wiped down Yue Wuhuan's body and washed his face, fed him medicine and water, and even replaced the bedding to deal with all kinds of filth.

When Yue Wuhuan woke up three days later, he was confused. He didn't know where he was. He stared at the white veil on the top of the bed in a daze for a long time. He finally realized that he was still alive and he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time.

He closed his eyes, faintly recalling the slight fragrance of medicine lingering from his dream and the hands that had gently released all the restraints for him. He took a deep breath. He didn't want to wake up and face the never-ending nightmare.

After who know's how long, Yue Wuhuan threw his eyes open, remembering where he had smelled the fragrance of the medicine. He slowly turned his head and looked at the round table next to him, but saw that Medicine Master Xianzun was attentively making changes to the cursive writings on the table. He was frowning, his expression serious, as if thinking about something bad. There was also a familiar spirit bead in the silver plate next to him, and it became obvious that he had been given to another guest to be played with.

Yue Wuhuan’s phoenix eyes shrank. The rumors of the perverse and evil deeds of the Medicine Master Xianzun appeared in his mind, but he was not afraid. Whether he was willing or unwilling meant nothing under the control of the spirit bead. Besides, his broken body was no longer worthy of being cherished. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and struggled to get out of bed, but a sharp pain came from his shoulder, which made him dizzy and he fell right back down. Song Qingshi never had any distractions when he was researching. He heard the movement and found that the patient was awake. He was afraid that Yue Wuhuan might have moved his body and reopened the wound. He quickly reprimanded him with a stern tone: "You, go to bed right away! You are not allowed to get off for ten days!"

This stern technique was a secret taught by the head nurse of the hospital. It had a good effect on treating patients who didn't follow the doctor's advice.

"Ten days?" Yue Wuhuan was stunned. He couldn't help but look at Song Qingshi up and down. The more he looked, the more he felt that his appearance was deceiving. He had been with guests for many years, and he was used to seeing many lustful scenes, but he never would've guessed that this person had such prowess in the bed. . .

Seeing that he hadn't gotten back on the bed, Song Qingshi put down his pen, walked over and picked him up with his own hands.

Yue Wuhuan remained unmoved, stretched out his hand and gently hugged his neck. Hot fingertips touched his cool skin, as smooth as cool jade, and the clear and clean scent of medicine wrapped around him gently like if he was in a dream. Yue Wuhuan couldn't help but shake for a moment. He chasticized his heart for still not knowing how to behave, then resumed his usual posture, and breathed out ambiguously: "I hope that Xianxun will take pity. . ."

"Don't worry, I will." Song Qingshi put him back on the bed carefully, then pulled the blanket up. He wrapped him up tightly, and solemnly told him, "The valley is wet and cold. You have a mortal body so be careful of the cold and stay under the blanket. Keep your hands and feet tucked in and don’t kick off the sheets."

Yue Wuhuan had never seen this trick in bed before and was at a bit of a loss.

"You;re a patient now. Let me tell you about your situation." Song Qingshi turned back to the table, picked up a stack of paper covered with words. He nervously pushed the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose, and read with a smile, formulating his tone. "The patient is Yue Wuhuan. There are three lacerations from the right shoulder to the chest, which are 18 cm, 14 cm and 12 cm long. The right shoulder bone is fractured, and the suprascapular artery has been ruptured. The right elbow has a skin contusion. The left and right wrists have skin tissue bruises, the left and right knees are bruised along with the left and right ankle tissue. The buttocks skin has soft tissue lacerations. There are signs of drug abuse in the body and potentially drug addiction. Do you understand?"

Yue Wuhuan only felt that his stiff smile must look increasingly forced. The more he thought about it, the crazier everything seemed. All he could do was nod his head and pretendto understand.

"Very good." Song Qingshi felt that what he said was both detailed and easy to understand, and began to recite the preliminary treatment plan. "Your dantian and meridians have been destroyed, and your body is seriously damaged. Your body is too fragile right now to use stronger medicine, so you cannot take Rejuvenation Pill, Gather Breathe and Disperse Pill, All Creation Pill or the Bone Growth Pill. You need to be treated with mortal medicine first, and then treated with the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath. Then you'll take the Rising Dragon Pill and Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill."

Yue Wuhuan finally understood what he was saying. These pills were common immortal medicines, and he had also taken it when he was seriously injured.

The All Creation Pill and Rising Dragon Pill were worth thousands, and he had heard that the poster of Jape Pearl Tower's Lord had used it for his own treasure.

He didn't know what the Six Meridian Rejuvanation medicated bath was, but the Nine Revolution Blood Lotus Pill was the treasure of the immortal world. It is made of ten thousand year-old blood lotuses. There were only nine in the world and only few know where their locations. He only knew that the master of Xuanji Palace had used it and ascended to Fen Shen; the lord of Fluttering Snow Fortress turned against his Daoist companion and killed him and his wife to win the treasure; one appeared in the Qizhen Pavilion auction, and it was won by the owner of the East Sea Langya Pavilion with hundreds of thousands of high-grade spirit stones. For some reason, Jin FeiRen wasn't able to participate in the auction. He always brought it up as one of the greatest regrets in his life.

If it were described in mortal terms, it would be like saving a beggar on the side of the road and saying that you would give him precious delicacies, golden houses, jade horses, and billions in wealth. FInally, you tell him you'll give him the fade seal of the country and all lands under the heavens. Only an idiot would believe these claims.

Yue Wuhuan laughed but his heart was cold. He basically confirmed that Song Qingshi was just toying with him.

He had also encountered many such sweet talkers, pretending to show compassion for some and pity for others. All he wanted, though, was to coax his slaves to play this game with him. He only lusted after his dirty body, in the end.

Song Qingshi finished off with some final closing words: "Don't worry, as long as you follow the doctor's advice and cooperate with the treatment, you'll be cured."

"Okay," Yue Wuhuan's phoenix eyes showed a bit of flattery, and he replied in a sultry voice: "This slave depend on Xianzun for everything. . ."

"I almost forgot." Song Qingshi looked into his eyes and suddenly remembered something. He put on the animal skin gloves again, picked up a luminous bead the size of a goose egg and placed it in a strange, long, tube-shape lampshade. Then he sat on the side of the bed, leaned over and looked at Yue Wuhuan. He gave him a serious warning: "This may be a little uncomfortable, please bear with me."

Yue Wuhuan smiled self-deprecatingly. He let the phoenix eyes show waves of desire, and he relaxed his body, waiting to be played with.

Song Qingshi stretched out his hand and opened his eyes, illuminating the inside of the eyes with the luminous bead. He carefully observed for a while, then whispered: "The problem of the lacrimal secretion system is not visible on the outside, so I still have to do a colored dye inspection..."

Yue Wuhuan: "???"

[sdvharveybby]

If you are taking requests I was thinking if you could write for the farmer and Harvey in their first everything, like, their first date, first kiss, first... Time👀? ... You know, their first things

Sorry this was so late, but I got into watching Tokyo Ghoul and literally days went by. Great anime by the way! I love watching like gross and terrifying anime’s. Besides Attack on Titan and The Promised Neverland, Tokyo Ghoul is definitely amongst my top favorites.

See how I can’t stop talking once I start?? Anyways, I loved this ask!!! I really really did, it’s just so cute and fluffy. Like a bunch of clouds all piled into one ask. Great idea so thank you for sending this in!

I added in, saying ‘I love you’, holding hands, and getting drunk together lmao I just made them as like... chopped up headcannons because there’s no way I could have added all of this as a story!

Without further ado, hope you enjoyed this! Thank you bby!!

ALSO THIS DOES MENTION THEM DOING THE DIDDLE, OKAY? IT DOES NOT GO INTO DETAIL BUT NSFW ANYWAYS. SORRY BBYS :) (it’s the very last paragraph if you want/need to avoid it)

 Word Count: 1343

First date:

Oh, it’s filled with a lot of laughs. Both Harvey and the farmer share jokes and awkward stories about their lives- mostly to break up potential tension, and to also learn about each other. Harvey figures it’s better than the traditional boring small talk that’s usually made during first dates. Also, considering it’s a small town- they both know the answers to the basic questions normally asked like, “What do you do for a living.” For as how nervous Harvey seems to be- he plays it off quite nice.

He’s also blushy. Mainly because he’s trying to maintain eye contact with a potential love interest, but he loves that feeling! Harvey definitely has a smile on the entire time, and also barely eats his food because he’s so invested in learning about the other person.

But things just happen to him. Without his control- outside forces just want to play on his nervousness. Something like Emily randomly tripping and accidentally spilling his water/wine on him. Then it’s just a brief moment of both Harvey and Emily chaotically trying to wipe up the liquid, Emily feels bad, but the farmer finds it adorable at how much Harvey tries to console Emily, like, “No! Don’t feel bad! It’s not your fault, you didn’t plan for that to happen.” With an awkward smile the whole time.

He does get a bit tipsy during the first date though… and he definitely gets more confident. He’ll start to compliment the farmer in every way he can. He’ll also start to find everything funny, even if it’s not meant to be. He’ll giggle if the farmer drops a spoon or if somebody bumps into them walking by. He can’t help it! But where eye contact was hard for him before, it’s easy now, and he’ll begin to share some of his feelings that he has towards the farmer.

Holding hands:

The first time the farmer and Harvey hold hands is at the Feast of the Winter Star. The brisk cold made the farmer shudder and stick their hands in their coat pockets. It’s with a moment of impulsivity that Harvey reaches his hand into the farmers pocket and entangles his hand with theirs. There’s a brief moment of silence between them until he leans his head closer to theirs and says, “I hope this is all right- I just didn’t want you to be cold.”

He doesn’t seem nervous when doing that though- it was actually a comfortable action for him. It didn’t rely on conversations or him trying to impress the farmer. He just wants them to be happy and warm.

First time getting DRUNK (I just thought this was a funny idea):

First time they ever get drunk together is actually in Harveys apartment. He’s always been good about limiting how much alcohol he drank, but with the rousing conversations the farmer and him had- he wasn’t paying any attention.

They are both star fished onto the floor- heads next to each other just laughing. Either of them would first start a joke or story and get about four words in until they would just start laughing.

It ends that night with actual life related conversations. With barriers down, they begin to share their fears, hopes, and dreams. They learn quite a bit about each other doing this, and they end up falling asleep on the floor, at some point, late into the night.

First kiss:

The farmer initiates this one, mostly because Harvey doesn’t have the slightest idea on how he would approach their first kiss.

They decided to go on a date to the beach to watch the sunset. It wasn’t meant to be anything particularly special, but as they sit on the docks listening to the water rush up on shore and watching the golden sun set- it became special…

As Harvey is in mid story the farmer cuts them off, “Hey, Harvey?” they ask, and he responds with a questioned, “Hmm?” and that’s when the farmer turned his head and kissed him!

At first kiss- it was quick. The farmer took it as initial rejection when Harvey basically became a wooden plank, but a part of him didn’t even know if it was real. His eyes were wide, a deep red blushing his cheeks. It takes him a moment, but he is genuinely ecstatic. He reaches in close placing a hand on the farmers cheek and gives them a deep kiss lasting much longer than their first (eyes closed this time!)

It was just a simple kiss, but to him it meant validation. It meant, ‘They like me as much as I like them.’ He certainly treasured the moment- something he would never forget. Sometimes at night, he remembers this moment and gets so giddy that it becomes hard to sleep.

First ‘I love you’:

This was at the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies event! A sight to behold no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

They stood next to each other on the docks as far out to the water as they could get. It was dark out, but with the moon shining bright, they could vaguely make each other. Once the event began, Harvey and the farmer held hands eyes bright as the jellyfish swam in close. They saw an array of beautiful jellyfish before them, in the background they could hear people breathlessly saying ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh’. An assortment of colors illuminated upon Harvey and the farmer as they both would point out one’s they found particular pretty or cool. Harvey then saw his opportunity and leaned in close to the farmers ear and whispered, “Could I tell you something?” They turned to look at him, watching the colors dance across his face, he wore a soft smile and said, “I love you.” The farmer immediately gave him a big hug whispering, “I love you, too.”

The farmer couldn’t see it, but Harvey had tears brimming his eyes when they reciprocated his love. It made him feel reassured and accepted, another moment he never wanted to forget as they held each other.

First time having sex:

If Harvey couldn’t initiate their first kiss- he sure as hell had no one idea how to properly initiate them having sex for the first time.

The farmer invited Harvey over for dinner one night; something they could do together and enjoy each other’s company. It started off standard, as they’ve done this many times before, but Harvey decided that they should have dinner in front of the fireplace. The night air was cold, and this would be something comfortable for the both of them.

They sat in front of the fireplace as they ate- sharing their usual stories or making up things as they went. It became a great evening for both of them, it seemed it was perfect! When they finished, Harvey stood to clear off the table and before grabbing the farmers plate, he leaned down for a kiss. Something must have been in the air because his initial quick kiss evolved into them passionately kissing amongst the warmth of the fireplace. He set his plate back down on to the table, and they made there way into the bedroom.

Now, they both knew what this would mean, and it being their first time doing this together- they were nervous to say the least. But the passion and drive for one another quickly threw their nerves out of the window. It was a craving to be with each other and it wasn’t long until they made it to the bed… and the rest is history.

Neither of them could properly describe the night they had together. It was riveting, exciting, and loving, but they couldn’t put that into words. It was a night they both shared that memory together, and after they had finished it was left with, “Do we clean off the table now?” “Let’s just do it in the morning.” Sleeping in each other’s arms and soaking in each other’s warmth, nothing could have been better.

[chilling-in-the-dark]

The Batboys As Vampires: Part 1 Bruce Wayne

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, and it hints at noncon If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

Bruce had been given another name when he was ten days old, but he had forgotten it long ago, as was often the case with those of his kind, as they took on new names to blend in often they would forget the ones they were born with.

Bruce’s father had been from a long line of purebred vampires, but he’d veered off tradition when he’d fallen in love with a woman from the Greek village he’d been visiting. Themis (Thomas as Bruce would refer to him much later in life) had been so sure about his love that he’d turned her the night they’d meet, and after a century together, they’d had a son. Bruce was born in Pompeii just eight years before the volcano erupted.

The small family had been happy, that is until the day the volcano blew erupted, his father having been quite old knew what was going to happen as soon as he felt the ground rumble below his feet. They’d sent Bruce on ahead because, at the time, he was still young enough to travel in daylight. After all, the magic in his blood wouldn’t truly sink in until he was older. Typically it was somewhere around age twenty, but Bruce was a bit of a late bloomer and hadn’t turned until he was thirty-five.

Nearly two millennia passed before he’d meet you, Alfred had been by his side for almost all of that time, though seeing as Alfred was one of the first vampires, he chose to serve him. Bruce wasn’t under any illusions the man before him was more powerful the Bruce could ever hope to be, the only reason Alfred listened to Bruce was that he’d chosen to.

Though you didn’t know anything about the dynamics of vampires when you came to be a maid in the Wayne household, it was not the first manor house you’d served in after being born in Victorian London, there had been no other choice for your lot in life. You were the illegitimate daughter of a nobleman, one who couldn’t let your birth sully his good name, so he’d done everything in his power to see that the only place your mother could go was the workhouse. Luckily by the time you were old enough to be put to work, they’d started sending children out to smaller homes where they could be trained in a trade.

For the girls of the workhouse, that meant becoming a domestic servant, while the boy’s learned to be all manner of things, such as tailors and carpenters, among other things you couldn’t quite remember. Having tried your best to suppress all memories of that place, of the cruelty you’d faced there, and of the night’s, you couldn’t sleep because you’d longed for a mother you’d only seen in passing.

You learned quickly why Lord Wayne couldn’t get his servants from the nearby village, some of the more superstitious locals whispered things about him secretly being a monster, but you’d never really believed in things like that. People were monsters enough on their own.

Things had gone well enough for the first year of your service to Lord Wayne, even if it’d taken you a while to get used to doing your job at night, because of Lord Wayne’s apparent allergy to sunlight. He wasn’t the harshest Master you’d ever had; in fact, when it came to his servant’s, he was one of the least strict you’d ever seen, though that isn’t to say he’d tolerate laziness or jobs half done. Still, if a servant finished their work early and did their job well, they were more then welcome to spend their extra time however they liked.

You favored wandering the grounds, though your preferred spot was the pond out back, its calm clear waters mirrored the heavens in such a way that it almost looked like they had fallen to earth. It was there that you spoke Lord Wayne for the first time, sure you’d seen him in passing while doing your work but had never had a conversation with him. Lord Wayne had been sweet and charming, but something about him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Bruce had fallen for you fast, and hard it seemed because, after that first meeting, he’d found himself drawn to you when he’d told this to Alfred the old vampire just smiled. Bruce knew you were meant to be his, and he’d tried to court you the normal way, but it seemed that you were immune to his charms.

It was time for Bruce to move on anyways because the Locals were growing more and more suspicious of him as time went on, so Bruce devised a plan, one that would kill two birds with one stone.

It was a few months later that Bruce informed his staff that he was going to America where he intended to be the founder of a new city, Gotham, he’d planned on calling it. Lord Wayne had written all of his staff recommendations, nearly everyone except for you. You watched as your colleges found new employment and left one by one until you were the only member of staff left. Well, there was Alfred, but Lord Wayne intended to take with him to America.

You made you your mind to confront him about it as soon as you finished your duty’s today, only you never got the chance to because Lord Wayne appeared before you in the familiar servants’ quarters, just as you were getting ready to start your work. Your face turned beet red when you looked over at him and found that he was naked as the day he was born.

“My Lord, what are you doing?” you squeaked and tried to turn away from the scene only for Bruce to grab your chin with near bruising force and make you look into his eyes. The vibrant blue of his eyes seemed to be replaced by a glowing purple, which you found yourself praying was just the moonlight playing tricks on your eyes, because the rumors around town about him being some sort of demon couldn’t possibly be true, could they?

You didn’t get long to linger that thought; as a second later, you had much bigger things to worry about, like the fact you couldn’t even control your own body. You stood there frozen in place until Lord Wayne took your hand and started to lead you down the stairs and through the main door, all the while your mind was screaming at you. Why was this happing to you? This was just a bad dream right, any moment now, you’d wake up in a cold sweat and let yourself have a laugh about allowing the rumors get in your head.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stopped before the small pond where you’d first spoken to Bruce. Tonight, it seemed as if someone had scattered an entire kitchens worth of herbs across its typically mirror-like surface, but you didn’t have long to take it in as Bruce removed your cap and unpinned your hair. When he was satisfied he’d gotten all the pins out, Bruce grabbed your bodice and tore it clean in half shift, corset and all leaving your upper body exposed to him while the lower half was still mercifully covered by your petticoats.

If you could move, you’d be shivering, and not only from to chill that always seemed to invade the air around your Master. Though you could still cry, it seemed as tears started to stream down your face as he removed the last of your garments. This was worse than anything you’d ever been forced to endure.

Satisfied with his work Bruce turned his attention back to the pond, he used his fangs to draw a single drop of his own blood, letting it fall into the water, watching as it died the whole pond red. He smiled with satisfaction, but if you could move, you’d be trembling with fear.

Satisfied with the condition of the water, Bruce turned to look at you and produced another drop of blood using the same method as before; he was old enough that a single drop of blood is all it’d take. Vampires had to be at least two hundred before they gained the power to turn another, but the older they were, the more potent their blood would become, and the less it would take.

Still not knowing what was happing, you found your mouth opening against your will so that Bruce could force his blood into your mouth. It tasted acidic, and it burned as it went down your throat. The second the blood settled in your stomach, you could feel that something was wrong, but you couldn’t tell what.

Bruce smiled, knowing that in a few days’ time, you’d be fully turned and by his side forever. Bruce took you by the hand and lead you into the water, where he’d perform the ritual that would tie your souls together for all eternity.

That night you lost everything, your innocence, your hope, and worst of all, your humanity.

Tags:

@yanderepeterparker​

@idkmanicantenglish​

@prettyafghan

@neon-phosphorecsent​

[rhubarbed-triangle]

Dream SMP and the Major Arcana

Hello! I've recently been learning about tarot cards and readings and I realized that there's a lot of parallels between the characters on the Dream SMP and the major arcana cards. I'm not an expert on the cards, so feel free to let me know if there's a character you think would fit that card better or there's a better explanation somewhere.

For the card definitions, I used this website: https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/tarot-card-meanings-list

I also tried to pick characters for cards that embodied both the upright and reverse meanings as a whole. These descriptions are also all about the characters and not the creators themselves.

The World - Dream and the SMP, could also include the community house

Since The World card signifies community, unification, and traveling, it would make sense that Dream would represent The World. His whole motivation as a character is that he wants the SMP to be unified into one big happy family. And the world is named after him, after all.

Judgement - Jack

The Judgement card represents reflection, reckoning, but when in reverse, also represents self loathing and doubt. The way Jack blames Tommy for his misfortunes but has a change in heart when he finds out Tommy died is the kind of self reflection present in Judgement. And when Tommy comes back and Jack realizes how he meant to Tommy (even if it's not a true reading of the situation), he switches back to trying to hurt Tommy as much as he hurt him. His judgement of Tommy seals both Tommy's and Jack's fate.

The Sun - Foolish, Sapnap

The Sun represents celebration, joy, success. I really don't have a solid connection to the characters here, but it feels like both Foolish and Sapnap could fit this card.

The Moon - Antfrost, Connor

The Moon represents unconsciousness, illusions, and intuition. The Moon reversed is all about confusion, fear, and misinterpretation. When Antfrost was controlled by the Egg, he did his fair share of spreading the fear and showing that the Egg was nothing to be messed with. When he wasn't corrupted, he had a great sense of knowing how the Eggpire was in the wrong even if they didn't have control over their actions. The same could be said with Connor. Connor is one of the only characters of the SMP that seems to know more than what he lets on, getting into shenanigans that others would deem noncanonical.

The Star - Ponk

The Star represents a sense of hope and rejuvenation, and in reverse represents faithlessness and insecurity. The faith that Ponk holds/held for members of the Eggpire before he was corrupted, trying to keep an eye on them, faking being corrupted, as well as the fact that knowing that all of Sam's misdeeds will catch up to him but he'd have a place for Sam to stay regardless embodies the Star's hope.

The Tower - Eret, Eret's Tower, L'Manberg to an extent

The Tower represents sudden change, disaster, and broken pride, but it doesn't necessarily have to be bad. The sudden change from Eret switching sides in the fight for L'Manberg independence was a significant change both for them and for L'Manberg. Still, L'Manberg bounced back, much like Eret did later on when they truly regretted their betrayal. The reverse Tower represents avoided or delayed disaster. The fact that L'Manberg was rebuilt twice after being destroyed until it was destroyed for good just delayed what seemed like the inevitable.

The Devil - Schlatt

Seems self-explanatory, but I can explain just in case. The Devil represents addiction and materialism while the reverse represents freedom and restoring control. Schlatt saw himself rising to power in L'Manberg as freeing the city of the tyranny of the previous rulers. Not to mention, he was heavily involved in many addictions during his life.

Temperance - Ranboo

Patience, the middle ground, and finding meaning is represented by Temperance. Ranboo is one of the most neutral characters on the SMP, and even when he does get wrapped into fighting for a side, he tries to remain as under the radar as possible, not wanting to give any more reason for others to attack. This is apparent with how he's treating Tubbo's outpost outside Las Nevadas versus how Tubbo is treating the outpost as well as dealing with living double lives in the Syndicate and at Snowchester.

Death - Wilbur/Revivebur

Death is the end of a cycle, a metamorphosis into something new, but Death in reverse can also mean stagnation and a fear of change. The way Wilbur's character changes throughout the SMP's history, taking many forms, greatly mimics the political changes as well as meta changes to the SMP. But at the same time, Revivebur has a similar mentality to S1 Wilbur while the rest of the server has moved on without him.

The Hanged Man - Tommy

The Hanged Man is a tragic card, representing sacrifice and martyrdom but in reverse also represents needless sacrifice. The way that Tommy is continually pushed to sacrifice more and more of the things and people he loves may be seen as needless. He could also be interpreted as a martyr when he died in prison as his death marks a shift in the SMP, especially shown in how people reacted when the news broke out.

Justice - Sam

As the warden of the server, Sam represents the law. But the Justice card is more than that. It's cause and effect, truth, clarity. Sam sees things in very black and white: either you're a good person who does good things or you're a bad person who does bad things. The way he's confused when Ponk mentions that all the bad things he's done will catch up to him shows that Sam doesn't think of himself as a bad person and thus couldn't have done anything bad. Justice in reverse also signifies unfairness and unaccountability like the fact that Sam allowed Quackity to visit Dream despite knowing what was going on.

Wheel of Fortune - Karl

The Wheel of Fortune is about cycles of good and bad fortune as well as inevitable fate. The fact that Karl has no choice when he time travels and still must pay the price for it every time fits very well.

The Hermit - Fundy

While most think of The Hermit card as isolation and loneliness, the Hermit also represents inner guidance and seeking the truth. As Fundy is guided by his dreams, he tries to glean the meaning from what they show him. He even isolates himself in the hope that the dreams wouldn't happen anymore (which can be interpreted as he hoped he found the truth about them). Even before he was having dreams, he would isolate himself from the rest of the SMP for periods of time like after the destruction of L'Manberg for the final time.

Strength - Technoblade

While physically strong and confident in terms of his artillery, Techno is insecure in his loyalties with other members of the SMP, as in, he can't fight with words. The two most common ways of fighting, with words and charisma and with brute force, both show up in Techno but as extremely unbalanced. The dichotomy between Strength's physical power and the insecurity in its reverse matches well with Techno's strengths and weaknesses.

The Chariot - Niki

The Chariot represents direction and control, movement, but in reverse can also signify aggressiveness or lack of control. Niki is a very motivated character. She knows what she wants and she will get it. She also knows how other people may feel about what's going on, and she can recruit them to her side. When she knows what she wants, she will get it, but sometimes may lose control of the situation.

The Lovers - Bad and Skeppy

The Lovers card doesn't necessarily have to mean romantic ties between two or more people, the card can also mean partnerships and duality, and in reverse, can mean one-sidedness. The fact that it was implied that the reason Bad is only with the Egg is because of Skeppy and that Dream was planning on locking Skeppy up in his vault to control Bad shows that these two are connected on a much deeper level than most of the other pairs on the SMP. Not to mention, when both Bad and Skeppy were corrupted, it was pretty evident that only Bad cared about their relationship in a one-sided way.

The Hierophant - Tubbo

The Hierophant represents tradition and conformity, morality and ethics while in reverse represents subversiveness and rebellion. Tubbo fights between the good for those he loves and the good for all. This is especially prevalent when he had to choose between Tommy or between L'Manberg. Tubbo also fights between tradition, like when he was president, and disregarding tradition when that doesn't work, like with Snowchester.

The Emperor - Philza

The Emperor embodies authority, fatherhood, structure while also meaning ridigity and coldness in reverse. It's no secret that Philza is seen as a father figure in the SMP. Even to characters that he hasn't fathered, his word and stance on things are taken into great consideration. People trust his authority. Not to mention, he is associated with cold, snowy climates.

The Empress - Captain Puffy

The Empress signifies motherhood, nature, healing. Puffy is another figure on the SMP that is seen as parental. Like Phil, despite not being an official parent to many characters, her word and authority is trusted. She has opened a therapy office to help others heal. She is powerful enough where she is a genuine threat to the Eggpire while also remaining approachable enough for Tommy to seek her out for help.

The High Priestess - George

The High Priestess is very spiritual, very in tune with intuition and the unconscious/inner voice. The fact that George gets messages in his dreams which have included conversations with an inner voice/consciousness is about as blatantly High Priestess as one can get. He is also one, if not the only, character on the SMP that is friends with Dream XD, the god of the server.

The Magician - Quackity

The Magician is a master at getting what they want, seemingly making something out of nothing. The card represents willpower, desire but also trickery and illusionment when in reverse. Quackity, like Niki, knows what he wants, but unlike Niki, Quackity can get the outcome he wants by any means necessary, never losing control of the situation. People will listen to him, it's just taken him multiple different attempts to drive that point across.

The Fool - Charlie, Ghostbur

The Fool represents innocence and new beginnings but when in reverse, can also signify being taken advantage of and inconsideration. Both Charlie and Ghostbur have an air of innocence about them, that they could do no wrong, but for different reasons. Charlie simply doesn't know any better as he has no basis for what is normal, so he can't recognize when he's being taken advantage of. Charlie is also a slime that has been given a second shot at life as a human. Ghostbur simply can't remember the wrong he's done and thus can't atone for it, hurting those he loves further. Ghostbur also is Wilbur's literal rebirth into someone new.

Like I said, feel free to make corrections or additions. I'm sure there are more parallels elsewhere that I missed.

:D

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

(Let Me) Cover Your Eyes

Ao3

Summary: Remy’s a queen, but that doesn’t mean they get any rights. Logan’s not even a noble, but that doesn’t mean ay can’t do something. Content: Arranged marriage, sensory overload, references to noncon/dubcon kissing, one implication of possible future noncon/dubcon sex (none actually happens, just vaguely mentioned), basically being treated like a slave, one instance of self-harm, mentioned starvation, fear about being caught, misgendering (some accidental, some purposeful but for good reason), magic au, genderfluid!remy, nb!logan Pairing: Platonic losleep Note: There’s an oc in this referred to just as ‘the king’- he’s not meant to be a certain character or anything, he’s just an oc

~

If you asked anyone who knew her how Remy felt about parties, you would get the same answer from all of them: she loved them. She wore the most exquisite gowns and the most beautiful jewels to them, face made up in bright colours that highlighted her ever-present smile, mingling and laughing with all who attended. They were one of her greatest joys.

All of these people would be wrong. And this would be because they weren’t describing Remy- they were describing Maria.

Remy hated parties. The outfits she wore to them were too tight and difficult to move in, the jewelry paired with them clunky and not flattering to her. She wore so much make-up it felt as if breathing too hard would mess it up, and she felt suffocated beneath the smiles she couldn’t drop as she forced herself to interact with the masses. They were awful, and they made her feel awful.

But that didn’t stop them from occurring twice a month, and that didn’t stop Remy from having to go to them, always dolled up to the point you could barely tell she was anything more than a statue of perfect pose and restrained emotion.

That’s all she was, after all. Marriage may have deemed her a queen, but birth had deemed her a doll to be controlled and admired by others, and birth always won out.

So when the king (her husband, she could have said, but they both knew that wasn’t the purpose of their marriage, so there wasn’t really any reason to pretend otherwise) reminded her of the ball that evening and told her to get ready, she did. Even if her skin crawled and she wished she could do anything else, she did.

Her casual clothes were swapped out for a dark green ball gown that was much too tight around her stomach and much too loose everywhere else. She was adorned in heavy gold jewelry from head to toe, and her face was painted white and detailed like a mask of glittering emeralds and sapphires. And for the final touch, her sunglasses were taken from her and replaced with the reminder to smile.

“You look beautiful.” The king commented as Remy once more joined him. He was barely changed from earlier, his robes straightened a bit and little else. He wasn’t the one who was going to be on display.

“Thank you.” Remy said, but the response was hollow. The king’s words had been no compliment, simply a satisfied remark that his showpiece was prepared for the evening.

At the king’s prompting, Remy slipped her arm in his, wishing this gown had been one of the ones that came with gloves. The party would be hell on her senses no matter what, but the little things did help.

But, Remy supposed, she was already lucky enough she was a woman at the moment. Sure, she’d feel like hell and still be forced to act as if she was in heaven, but at least she wouldn’t be misgendered.

Little things.

~

The party had gone downhill for Remy at about the same rate as always; aka, really fucking fast.

The lights were too bright on their own, traditional candles covering practically every inch of the walls while the chandeliers above were lit up by crystallized sunlight, all of it made worse by the hundreds of gems that reflected the light even more throughout the room. The colours of outfit amongst the partygoers were violent clashes of manageable darks and painfully bright neons. Chinking glasses and overlapping conversations echoed in the large ballroom. Everything was too much, and to top it all off Remy’s gender had shifted again, the pesky thing, and now every addressal of ‘my queen’ made them feel sick.

Not that you could have guessed any of that, looking at Remy. They were used to it, after all. Used to everything being so much it made it hard to talk or think or breathe, used to feeling as if their skin was buzzing with the amount of hands they were shaking, used to smiling through it all as if they were enjoying themself and not crumbling piece by piece, only to be put back together again just in time for the next party.

It would be easy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Barely an hour into the party and Remy was ready to find a corner and press themself into it until they simply didn’t exist anymore. Every minute afterwards only got worse, and were it not for the eyes of the guards at every door and corner constantly on them Remy would’ve just left and faced the consequences later.

And of course, because Remy was already having such a wonderful evening, things went from bad to utterly terrible in the space of a few too-fast heartbeats.

The most recent noble Remy had struck up conversation with had been charming, in a good way. They hadn’t tried to shake Remy’s hand, something Remy was immensely grateful for, and they kept their attention towards the crowd around them as they chatted, not staring uncomfortably at Remy’s face like everyone else did. Remy wouldn’t say they were happy talking to them, but it was certainly the best interaction they had had that evening.

And then they asked Remy to stay put while they spoke to the king, and everything was right back to being horrible.

Remy wasn’t surprised when the noble returned to lead them outside, out onto the low balcony set in the back of the palace. It was a lovely night, after all, temperate and cloudless, and going to a bedroom would’ve been pointless anyways. It was still a few months before their first year with the king was up, and tradition was tradition, even if the king was much too preoccupied with peace treaties and border shifts to pay Remy any ‘attention.’

They stepped out onto the balcony before the noble, taking in a breath of the cool air while they waited for the noble to close the door and make their move. Remy wasn’t sure what to expect, only knowing that the most seemingly charming nobles were the worst in this regard.

Soon enough, they were in front of Remy, for the first time that evening looking them in their eyes. Remy wasn’t surprised. They were gorgeous, after all, the whole spectrum of colour twisting and turning in their irises, never stopping. Remy had expected them to look eventually. That was why they were on display.

Lost in their thoughts, Remy didn’t notice that the noble was offering them something until they spoke up, their tone clear and the slightest bit concerned, “Here.”

Remy thought they were directing them in some manner. Instead, their hand was out, palm up, offering Remy…

“Sunglasses?” Remy said, confused. They weren’t supposed to cover their eyes at parties, for the express purpose of ensuring all the guests could see them. It was practically etiquette for beings like them. “The king won’t allow it.”

“He can’t see you right now.” The noble pointed out evenly, as if they were simply stating a fact. When Remy didn’t respond to that, they added, “You’re uncomfortable. These will help.”

Part of Remy was still untrusting of the noble’s offer. It was too likely this was simply a trap, some sort of twisted test to see if Remy would respond properly.

But Remy really did want to put the sunglasses on, to once more quiet the world, consequences be damned. Plus, there was something… unplaceable about this noble. Remy was loath to call them trustworthy, but they didn’t inspire distrust nearly as much as anyone else Remy was forced to know, and that meant something to Remy.

So they accepted the sunglasses.

Immediately after putting them on, Remy could feel their senses quieting, the new muted, dark appearance to the world around them convincing some primal part of their brain that they no longer needed to be on full alert. Remy’s dulled senses were roughly on par with a human’s full-alert ones, something that made the human world much easier to bear. Their skin was still crawling, too much touch not something that could just be blocked out at a moment’s notice, but that was alright with Remy. Something was better than nothing. They didn’t need everything.

The noble, however, didn’t seem as satisfied. They were frowning, head tilted as they looked at Remy.

“You’re still uncomfortable.” They observed, which Remy supposed wasn’t too surprising. They were good at acting okay, but it wasn’t a waterproof facade. Just good enough so that nobles who didn’t care weren’t forced to feel uncomfortable due to Remy’s own discomfort.

“I’m fine.” Remy lied, trying to maintain the facade, as always. “Now, are you-”

Before they could finish their sentence, Remy was stopped by the noble shrugging off their dark blue and silver embroidered jacket, leaving them in a matching tie and black button-up as they offered the jacket to Remy. “Here. The pressure should help with your crawling skin, so long as the fabric doesn’t upset you.”

Now that? That was odd.

“How did you know my skin was crawling?” Remy asked as they accepted the jacket. They had been given ‘favors’ before, so there was no danger in wearing the noble’s. There might’ve been a time when there was, but Remy had been careful to insure otherwise.

“I’m an empath.” The noble answered.

Remy nodded, now only slightly confused. While being an empath did answer their original question, it also proposed a new one: what were they doing here? Empaths were not considered of high social standing, but instead as workers, made to help lift others up and be crushed under foot if they weren’t careful. The only way an empath would be at one of the king’s parties was if they were rich beyond good reason, and Remy found those types were never charming.

Trying to put their confusion out of mind, Remy pulled on the jacket, feeling relieved almost immediately. The jacket was heavy, but not tight or restricting, and the material of it felt nice against their skin. Though there was still the lingering feel of everyone who had touched them in the last hour, it was mostly gone, blocked out by the jacket.

“You’re comfortable now. Good.” The noble observed, and Remy felt their heart rate spike, even if only for a moment. So that was their angle. Comfortable. At least it was classy.

“I suppose I am.” Remy responded, as neutrally as possible. Of course the empath would want them to be comfortable, wouldn’t want to sense any negative emotions from Remy. And if Remy had any chance of making sure they didn’t have to deal with any of said emotions, they’d have to start working on blocking them out now.

The noble nodded, and Remy was ready, ready for them to make their move, to step forward or grab Remy’s hips or angle their chin or-

“May we talk?”

Once more, Remy found their thoughts slamming to a stop, the change in course sudden and completely unpredictable. Talk? Why would the noble want to talk?

“You’re confused.” The noble pointed out unhelpfully.

“I- Why aren’t you kissing me?” Remy blurted out before they could stop themself. They knew it was rude, and in horrible form, and if the king was anywhere nearby he’d be having a fit, but for the moment Remy didn’t care. They could only hold off sickening anticipation for so long, and they just wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.

In response, the noble blinked at Remy. Once. Twice. Coughed, adjusted their glasses, looked away a moment.

“Apologies.” They said, sounding awkward. “It appears I failed to properly explain the situation to you when I first left you to find the king. I have no desire to kiss you, I merely wish to talk to you.”

“That’s not why people normally bring me out onto the balcony.”

The noble ran a hand through their long dark hair, the quick, unthinking action giving Remy the impression it was a nervous habit. “And that is part of the reason I am here. But I assure you, I only want to converse. Nothing else.”

“...It’s your money.” Remy finally said, the noble’s uncomfortableness with the whole thing convincing them that they spoke the truth. The noble simply nodded, looking relieved that that conversation was over.

“It is best we speak outside of sight of possibly prying eyes.” They said, gesturing towards one of the balcony’s corners that meant the wall of the palace. Only in pressing their faces to the glass would anyone be able to see them there. Remy made no complaint, allowing themself to be pulled over to the corner, trying to ignore how many times they had been pushed into it.

Once they were situated there, the noble standing directly in the corner and Remy in front of them with more personal space than they normally got out here but also not nearly enough, the empath spoke.

“I do not think I remembered to introduce myself earlier- I am Logan, ay-em-air pronouns, empath.” Logan told Remy, only sparking their confusion as to what ay was doing at a party for nobles even more. The breaking of the gender binary was considered informal, improper, and a peasant thing to do. All nobles were cis, or at least acted as if they were. Logan being open with air identity was just another strike against em being a proper noble, much less one invited to balls. So why was ay here?

“May I ask your name and pronouns?”

Remy frowned. “I’m Maria, the queen, I-”

“You can’t lie to an empath. Not easily, anyways.” Logan corrected, offering Remy a small smile. “Even without my magic, it’s easy to tell you weren’t at ease when the others addressed you by such terms. While I understand your inability to correct them, I assure you, you will face no consequences for being honest to me.”

Logan’s ability to seem trustworthy despite giving Remy very little concrete reason to trust em was beginning to become annoying. But it still won out in the end, and Remy found themself quietly admitting, “I prefer to go by Remy. They-them works for now.”

“Alright then, Remy,” Logan began, prompting a brief small smile from Remy, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want to leave?”

Remy tilted their head to the side, confused. “Leave where?”

“Here. The palace.”

“Surely you know I can’t do that, babe.” Remy said, biting down on their tongue hard the moment the sentence was out of their mouth. Petnames weren’t proper, they weren’t noble, and they weren’t used by royals. The king hated hearing them, and was always quick to use Remy’s slip-up as a chance to remind them they were queen by title only, that there was no royalty in their blood and never would be. The verbal reminder was easy enough to block out and ignore, but the days without food? Not so much.

Remy swallowed before continuing, trying to clean their mouth of the fresh taste of blood. “Only the king can take me off the grounds.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Logan replied evenly. “I asked if you want to leave.”

“Of course I do.” Remy said, quickly glancing back to check no one was trying to approach them, turning back towards Logan when they didn’t see anything or anyone. “But that doesn’t exactly matter. Want to or not, I have to stay in the palace.”

“You don’t have to.” Logan corrected. “I can help you escape. You can leave.”

“No offense, su- Logan, but you and what army?” Remy asked, vaguely gesturing behind Logan. “The walls surrounding the palace are enchanted, there are four guards stationed at the gate and dozens more all across the grounds, and if I’m absent too long I will be sought out. I can’t just leave because you’re escorting me.”

Logan didn’t respond to that immediately, instead looking past Remy for a moment, likely at the doors to the balcony. After a moment, ay gave air attention back to Remy as ay spoke. “I understand your desire to have more concrete facts and reasonings behind what I say, but I do not have the time to answer all your questions now. I can get you out of here, but you have to trust me, and we must leave now, before we’re out of time.”

Remy bit their lip, hesitating. “If I’m caught…”

“You won’t be.” Logan assured them. “But as I said, you have to trust me, and we must leave now. Do you want to be free again, Remy?”

The question was more than just whether or not Remy wanted to be free, they knew. It wasn’t asking if Remy wanted to be free in a vacuum, asking whether or not they preferred freedom to what was more or less enslavement. It was asking if they were willing to take a risk for freedom, if they were willing to be free at a cost, if they were willing to take their chances at freedom despite the danger. It was asking if they were willing to trust Logan.

They shouldn’t have been. No one could be trusted, not anymore.

And yet…

“Yeah.” Remy answered, letting out a shaky breath as they wrapped their arms around themself. Logan’s jacket pressing closer against their skin, reassuring Remy, if only a bit. “I’ll trust you.”

The hint of a smile flickered over Logan’s face. “Good.” Ay said, before proceeding to flip emself over the balcony railing without even glancing back first.

Remy knew ay was probably fine, the drop not being a large one, and Logan clearly being prepared for the move, but it was still sudden enough to shock Remy into pushing themself against the balcony railing, making sure ay really was okay.

Ay was- at least, Remy was fairly certain an injured person wouldn’t be so focused on adjusting air tie. Ay flattened it down against air chest before ay looked up at Remy.

“Your turn.” Ay called up, only as loud as ay needed to be. Ay also opened up air arms, clearly planning to catch Remy.

Remy just scoffed to themself and jumped to the side of em, landing firmly on the ground.

Logan looked mildly impressed, raising an eyebrow at Remy. Remy shrugged. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Never said you were.” Logan defended, though air expression was odd in a way Remy couldn’t place. Ay only allowed for a moment of staring, however, before ay turned from Remy. “This way.”

With that, ay set off across the expansive palace yard, Remy following close behind em. They were on high alert, constantly waiting to spot one of the many wandering guards who patrolled the estate day and night, but to their surprise, none seemed to be around.

Soon enough, the two of them came to the path that connected the gate to the palace, made of glistening white pebbles and smooth marble. Remy expected Logan to lead them over the path and back into the yard, where ay would soon enough lead them to a hole in the wall or something similar. What Remy hadn’t expected, however, was for Logan to stop on the path and begin heading towards the gate.

Remy grabbed air arm before ay could make it far, hissing under their breath, “What are you doing?!”

In response, Logan offered Remy a small smile, carefully looped their arms together so as that ay wasn’t too close or touching them too much, and once more moved forward, murmuring, “Trust me,” under air breath.

Only against every logical bone in their body did Remy do so, trying to focus on not falling over as Logan led them forwards, closer and closer to what Remy was certain would be the doom and ruin of this plan.

As soon as they were close enough to be recognized, the two guards stationed on the inside of the gate drew their swords, pointing them at Logan and Remy, and Remy was fairly certain their heart rate had never been higher than in that moment.

“The queen doesn’t leave the palace grounds.” One of the guards said, as if there was some way Logan could be unaware of the fact.

“Return to the party.” The other added, brandishing their blade just a touch to reinforce the point. “Unless you’d like things to get messy.”

Once again, Remy expected Logan to respond with some sort of attack, via a blade hidden in air boot or something of the like.

Once again, Remy expected the wrong thing.

Because instead of attempting to fight the guards, or even to just turn around and head back to the party, Logan simply smiled and said in a voice that didn’t sound entirely like air own, “The king has instructed me to take the lovely queen Maria out, for reasons of his own. Would you stand against the will of the king?”

One of the guards lowered their sword as soon as Logan had finished speaking, looking abashed for having challenged em. They stepped back, indicating that they would allow the two of them to pass.

The other guard hesitated for a moment, sword lowering, but they didn’t step back. “The king’s never done anything like this before. Do you have any proof of your claims?”

“You challenge the king’s wishes?” Logan replied, which Remy thought was a horribly suspicious answer.

The other guard seemingly didn’t agree, however, looking away from Logan as they sheathed their sword and stepped back. “My apologies, my liege.”

Logan curtly nodded once at the guard before moving forwards, having to tug a bit on Remy’s arm to get them to move as well. The guards made no move to ambush them or question them as they passed through the gate, simply remaining to the side, looking away from Logan.

“How did you do that?” Remy whispered to Logan as they passed under the archway of the gate, for a moment left alone in near-darkness.

“Ask me later.” Was Logan’s only response, and a moment later they were on the other side of the gate and the wall, officially outside of the palace. It was nothing much to look at, simply a round parking lot lined with cars and carriages of varying aesthetics, the road leading back towards the rest of society, trees to the left and water to the right, but it was still breathtaking to Remy. The last time they had been outside the castle walls had been nearly a year ago, and the same walls tended to grow boring fast.

“Hey! Is that the queen?!”

Ah, right. The second set of guards. Well, freedom had been sweet while it lasted, at least.

Logan didn’t seem nearly as ready to fold, however, looking between the two new guards and the two new swords being pointed at em as if ay was looking at old friends and balloons.

“It is indeed. The king has requested she be taken outside of the palace, for purposes of her safety.” Logan said, voice smooth and almost honey-like, drawing the guards in and making Remy feel as if everything about the situation was just a bit too sweet tasting. “He wishes all guards to be relocated within the palace walls until the issue has been addressed.”

Just as with the first guard from before, these guards seemed over-eager to do as Logan had asked, nodding at em as they hurried past the two of them and inside the king’s estate. Remy turned to watch them go, and that’s when it clicked.

“You’re an illusionist.” Remy said, turning back to look at Logan, eyes wide behind their sunglasses. “I thought you said you were-”

“I’m both.” Logan answered prematurely, letting go of Remy’s arms and stepping within the circle of parked vehicles. “Pick one of these for me, would you?”

Remy gave a distracted look around before pointing at one of the carriages, one with a framework of gold and crimson red silk wrapped around it. “I didn’t think it was possible to be an empath and an illusionist.”

“It is possible.” Logan responded vaguely as ay moved towards the carriage Remy had pointed out, checking inside of it quickly before moving to stand at the back side of it. “Care to assist me?”

“With what?” Remy inquired even as they came to stand beside Logan.

“We’re going to push this into the ocean.” Logan said, gesturing air head in the direction of the water. “The ground here is packed down hard enough it won’t leave enough tracks for anyone to see. Seeing the missing carriage, the king and his guards will assume we left for the town in it.”

“Where will we actually be?”

“In the forest, on the trail to a place I know you will be safe.” Logan explained as ay put air hands on the back of the carriage. “Could you kick out the block of wood, right up there, in front of the back wheel?”

Remy did so, and the carriage lurched forwards almost immediately, albeit in the wrong direction. They moved to join Logan at the back, helping to push it in the right direction as much as they could.

It took longer than Remy would’ve liked, but soon enough they were at the edge, and the carriage was over it, smashed against the jutting side of the cliff before being swallowed by the waves below. They remained there for a moment, Remy enjoying the feel of sea spray and the smell of the ocean while Logan caught air breath.

“How can you exist?” Remy asked after a few minutes, still watching the crashing and foaming waves as they spoke. “Empaths and illusionists are opposite classes of the same magic. You can’t be both.”

“That’s just something cowards say.” Logan responded, but neither the tone nor the phrasing sat right with Remy. They glanced over, catching Logan’s gaze, and ay sighed.

“I’ve accepted the consequences of my choices. There’s no point in wondering after things that are already set in figurative stone.” Ay said, not leaving any room for follow-up questions. “The sooner we leave, the less likely it is they will catch us. Are you ready to leave, Remy?”

Remy glanced back at the palace, at the harsh stone walls that had imprisoned them, at the tops of the towers they used to wander pointlessly for hours with nothing to do, at the bright lights that had only ever given them horrible headaches.

“I’ve wanted to leave that place even before I was in it.” Remy answered, turning away from it to look at Logan. “Let’s go.”

Logan nodded before turning away from the ocean, leading Remy in the opposite direction.

And with the palace, and everyone and everything within it, behind them, Remy and Logan disappeared into the forest.

[austerulous-a]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

1. What does your muse smell like?

Ha, I always seem to ask writing partners this question!  Annie herself has a rather keen sense of smell, and likes to be clean.  Her body’s natural scent is vaguely sweet but given she perspires considerably during martial training, and hit puberty earlier than most, she became fastidious about personal care at a young age.  In the interests of getting as much sleep as possible, Annie tends to wash out of a sink or basin in the morning, and shower in the evening (it’s no accident that this arrangement also means she’s also less likely to have to use communal showers at the same time as anyone else). ��In Marley, she often retained the scent of the plain soap her father purchased, while in Paradis scented soaps became her secret indulgence.  Light, floral fragrances are her favourite, and she likes lilac in particular.

2. What do your muse’s hands feel like?

Having suffered with sensitive, itchy skin as a child, Annie is in the habit of frequently using balm or cream on her hands, which makes them soft and smooth to the touch.  That being said, as a result of domestic chores, her silver ring being a permanent fixture on her right forefinger, as well as her military training, Annie’s palms and fingers have some calluses.  For as long as she can remember, she has had cool hands (and feet) but inheriting the Female Titan seems to have exacerbated this to the point where they are frigid much of the time.  Annie’s hands are dainty, in keeping with a girl of her size and stature, while her fingers are dexterous, slender and deceptively delicate; she is strong, and can deliver a crushing handshake if so inclined (never forget this scene from the Lost Girls OVA).

3. What does your muse usually eat in a day?

Annie has an unhealthy relationship with food, and her eating patterns are disordered; she is the sort to forget to eat or to deliberately skip meals, or to binge when the opportunity presents itself.  Given that Annie’s value lies in her physical capabilities, her father was very controlling over her intake, and critical of both her body and her sweet tooth.  You better believe Gabe Leonhardt is the kind of man who would slap a biscuit out of his daughter’s mouth.  The regular, plain meals served by the military work in her favour then, as they provide some sort of structure and nutritional balance.  Of course, her impoverished background (picking mould off fruit and bread was a common occurrence during her childhood, as food close to spoiling was sold at discounted prices) and her appetite mean Annie isn’t a fussy eater.  She will try almost anything once, even dishes others might balk at, or consider an acquired taste.  Adventurous as she is, Annie carries a great deal of trauma around what she was forced to consume by the Marleyan military, as part of their experimentation on her and the Female Titan.  This included cannibalising parts of her fellow Warriors.  Living amongst refugees after the fall of Wall Maria, Annie stole food, and would split these spoils – as well as her rations – with Reiner and Bertholdt.  Sharing food is one of the easiest and most common ways for her to express affection.  Annie does not drink alcohol, her favourite beverage is limeade and she is particularly fond of lavender, lemon and mint flavours.

4. Does your muse have a good singing voice?

Yes, but Annie has little cause to sing, and it would mortify her to be overheard, so she rarely indulges (never underestimate her fear of being laughed at).  Sometimes, she will sing in the shower, or while doing chores alone, but she is far more likely to hum quietly under her breath.  For the record, I think Misaki Fukunaga’s vocals on Annie’s song (Kanojo wa Tsumetai Hitsugi no Nakade / ‘She Lies Within the Cold Coffin’) is a pretty solid representation of her singing voice.

5. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous tics?

While she has been raised to be adept at disguising her emotions, Annie does have a number of behaviours that are born out of habit, and can be indicative of her mood – namely cracking her knuckles, or twisting her silver ring.  For a time, she had a ‘tell’ during combat where she would blink twice in rapid succession before making a particularly decisive or devastating blow; her father successfully hammered this out of her.  While not a habit per se, during her early childhood she suffered from excoriation disorder, and as such would scratch / pick at her skin, as well as pull out her hair and eyelashes.  As a young adult, swearing forms one of her more obvious bad habits, along with staring, keeping a wholly irregular sleep schedule and forgetting to eat (or conversely eating too much).

6. What does your muse usually look like / wear?

Whenever possible, Annie will remain in her military uniform both for the impersonality and simplicity of it.  Outside of that, she chooses roomy, comfortable and practical clothes in pale and muted colours.  Hoodies form her preference (she will pull the hood up when she wants to shut the world out, or to feel alone) but tunics, sweaters and jumpers also appear in her wardrobe – basically anything that’s relaxed in fit, and doesn’t cling to her upper body.  She is less concerned with trousers being closefitting, and is content to wear cropped varieties or even shorts in hot weather.  Skirts, dresses and more traditional feminine garb usually only feature in her disguises.  Annie is tactile and has a strong preference for soft fabrics, partly because for the comfort they offer her touch-starved self, and partly because she suffered with sensitive skin (an issue that inheriting the Female Titan resolved for her).  For the sake of practicality, Annie will almost always pull her hair back into her trademark messy bun, and likes a heavy, long fringe to hide behind.  Post-crystal, she moves towards wearing her hair down, finding that it helps soften her hard features.  Ultimately, Annie isn’t big on experimentation when it comes to fashion or styling, doesn’t wear make-up, and is concerned only with being clean, comfortable and presentable enough to pass inspections.

7. Is your muse affectionate?  How much?  How so?

There are times when Annie wishes she could be affectionate, but she genuinely doesn’t know how.  Her father deliberately kept her isolated, and dominated her formative years as a remote, unfeeling and largely inexpressive disciplinarian.  The height of care he showed Annie was silently helping her to wrap her swollen hands and feet at the end of particularly gruelling days, or tending to her when she was sick with fever.  His bedside manner was clinical, perfunctory.  Where other parents might hold their child’s hand, he would choose instead to grasp her by the wrist, often gripping her tightly enough to bruise.  Distance has always existed between them and, prior to the Paradis Island Operation, he placed his hand fondly on Annie’s head only once, and embraced her only once, the traumatic context of both instances sullying the contact.  As a result, she watches expressions of affection – mothers dabbing at their children’s sticky faces, friends embracing or tousling each other’s hair, lovers holding hands – with quiet longing and fascination, more often a witness than a participant.  Normally only close to others in combative situations, Annie is hardwired to associate proximity and touch with danger and / or pain.  It isn’t all doom and gloom, however.  With trusted companions or partners, Annie can and will open up, overcoming her concern with boundaries and rejection.  Mostly she expresses affection through small, fleeting touches; the brush of fingers, sitting side by side or leaning against those she is comfortable with.  Along with quality time, physical touch is one of Annie’s primary love languages.

8. What position does your muse sleep in?

Given the abuse that marked her childhood, it’s no accident that Annie assumes an almost defensive position.  Typically she sleeps on her side with her knees drawn up and her hands raised, vaguely mirroring her combative stance.  On occasion she will sleep her head under her pillow, or hide her face in the crook of an elbow.  While she very often dreams of training with her father, she is usually a deep sleeper and doesn’t move around too much – though the odd slumberous punch or kick isn’t unheard of.  Eerily, Annie will sometimes sleep with her eyes open, and she is a frequent sleep-talker.

9. Could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

Most likely not.  Courtesy of her martial training, which demands she be light on her feet, and her father’s fervent subscription to the belief that children should be seen and not heard (along with his punishment / correction of any behaviours that he deemed irritating or undesirable) Annie learned to move quietly, to make herself as small and silent a presence as possible.  Being diminutive both as a child and as an adult, she never experienced the clumsiness that often comes with growth spurts and the shifting dimensions of a maturing body.  There is a natural grace and confidence to her movements, but also something soulless and mechanical that has been instilled in her.  Play and the raucousness of childhood was not something Annie was permitted to indulge in at home and it shows; even during her youngest years, she carried herself as an adult might, stiffly and precisely.  This inherent stealthiness is part of what makes her so well-suited to covert operations, along with the fact that she is plain and slight enough to go overlooked.  That being said, when she is especially exhausted or weary, Annie may stumble or move lethargically, and is more likely to be overheard.

tagged by: @oncejaw​​ like a million years ago – I loved doing this, thank you lovely! ♡ tagging: a ton of people were tagged already, so whoever wants to do it.

[sweetchup]

The Hard Path

Type: Oc Story request

Word Count: 4K words

Warnings: Past abuse and PTSD

Author Note: I know I’ve been gone for a while. Not really any excuse except school has been beating me up. I hope @lelewright1234 likes her OC request.

“Oh, Great Gods from above. The ones that protect us and our families every day…”

Leah kicks the man to her right and attempts to escape. Though it was proven to be futile as she was preceded to be thrown back into the harsh muddy ground.

“Please accept this child as a worthy sacrifice…”

“No, let me go! Stop!” She shouts as the men forcibly drag her up the wet stone staircase to the altar, “Please anyone! Help me!”

Leah’s pleas and cries fall on deaf ears. She couldn’t tell if it was the sound of the downpouring rain drowning her out or if the citizens chose to ignore her. Though, she soon believed it was the later as the citizens from her village began chanting in unison with the great priest.

“Wang-go, Monster of destruction and creation. Please accept this child as your sacrifice and new holder.”

The great priest holds up a ruby dagger he took from his pocket. As he showed it off to the crowd, they roared with excitement. Though as soon as he lifts up his palm they fall into a deadly silence. Taking one last look at Leah, he swings the dagger above his head before plunging it into—

“Leah!”

Leah is startled awake and pants heavily. She realized she wasn’t there. She wasn’t back at her village.

“G-Gon.” The curly haired girl chokes out. Gon gives her a concerned look as he proceeds to sit down next to her. Leah tries to say something else in response but stops short of answering when a cold feeling hits her clammy forehead. Very startled, she looks up to see Killua on the other side of her pressing a cold water bottle to her forehead.

“What are you doing startling us like that, idiot?” Killua says jokingly. Though his face didn’t reflect that as he looked at her serious and slightly concerned.

“Startled you?” Leah slowly repeats mumbling. Using a napkin from the dinner they had a while ago, she attempts to wipe some of the cold clammy sweat from her forehead. Ever so slowly she seemed to be coming back to reality. She wasn’t back in her wicked village. No, she was on a blimp with Killua and Gon going to York New City. She wasn’t some sort of kid anymore, she was a hunter learning Nen.

“Yeah, you kind of started to fight in your sleep while mumbling something and all of a sudden a gigantic storm started to form.” Gon explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry about that.” Leah apologies, though  it comes out almost robotically. Unconsciously, she traces her chest over where her heart was, the whole reason she got chosen for her “gift”. Killua and Gon look at each other concerned before Killua lets out a soft sigh. Leah feels Killua ruffle her puffy hair making her look at him.

“Don’t apologize idiot. It’s not your fault you have some ancient disaster god or whatever in you.”

“I know you are right Killua. But still—“

“If you’re thinking of saying something about how you should have been able to control your powers better, don’t. Remember Gon and I are Hunters. Leah, we aren’t going to go down that easily.”

“Yeah!” Gon shouts, finally back in an enthusiastic mood. “Plus you’re our friend Leah. I don’t think you would ever hurt us.”

Killua and Leah blink together before Leah breaks let’s out a small giggle and Killua lets out a sigh.

“W-what? What did I say?”

“I swear you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“Hey! No I’m not!”

“Yes you are! After you went and fought Hisoka, you might actually be counted as a mega idiot.”

“I—“

“Killua. Gon.” Leah interrupts, grabbing the two’s attention. Giving them both  a warm smile, she ever so gently says. “Thank you. Thank you very much”

Both burst out into a bright red blush with Gon letting out a cheeky laugh and Killua mumbling something unheard under his breath.

The cute moment is disturbed however, as all of a sudden a crackling sound comes over the intercom and the pilot's voice is heard throughout the blimp.

“Thank you for joining Blimps-RS for this trip. In about 15 minutes we will be landing in York New City. Please remain seated and remember to fly safe with Blim—“

“Hey guys look at this!” Leah looks over to Gon’s loud call and her eyes widen. Her and Killua scramble over to the window. Looking down the three wowed at the great lights of the city. Leah had never ever seen a city so gorgeous before. She had only heard in books at how magical cities were but she had never imagined, nor dreamed such a sight as this one.

Ever so slightly Leah smiles to herself. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ok so you remember what to do right?” Killua says for what felt like the 108th time in a row. Leah lets out an exaggerated sigh as she repeats what she had been saying for the last 20 minutes.

“I have to disappear for 2 hours around town while you guys help Kurapika with the phantom troupe. If I get into any trouble make sure to call Leorio. I also will make sure I don’t converse with any strange people because they will only have bad intentions for me.” Leah repeats, sassily imitating Killua’s voice at the end.

“Killua. I think Leah gets it. Let’s go.” Kurapika says, dragging Killua out of the restaurant.

“You better stay out of trouble, you hear me!” Killua shouts one more time before he disappears out of sight. Leah sticks her tongue out towards him in response before shaking her head. Here she was thinking this trip to get some video games would be fun but all she has been doing is being forced to hide from these “phantom troupe” people while the others go on a manhunt to try and kill them. She didn’t even have a moment to spare to check if there were any special books up for auction.

As she was grumbling to herself in misery about her bad luck, she feels a hand on her shoulder. Looking up she sees that Leorio hasn’t left with the others yet. Watching closely, she sees him reach into his pocket and take out some cash.

“Hey Leah. I know things haven’t been great for you, having to hide for most of the time on this trip. Why don’t you go buy something nice on this trip? Maybe a souvenir or something?”

Leah hesitantly grabs the money from him, “Are you sure? You don’t have to give this to me. I have a hunter license just like you and can use some of that money.”

“True but think of this cash as my thank you for being the only sane person on this trip.” Leorio says, slightly grumbling in self misery at the end.

“Okay then. But don’t think of asking for anything back later. I’m not giving you a single cent~” Leah teases out to the tall man. Leorio only shakes his head before leaving the restaurant to catch up with the others.

“Bye leorio. Stay safe!” Leah shouts out before quickly turning back to the cash in her hand. Counting it, she realizes she has more than enough to get a new needed book. Now just the question was where could she find one. Letting the thought sink in, she leaves the restaurant and begins to walk around the streets of York New.

She knew any new book would solve her thirst of knowledge, but it would be much more convenient if she found one about her powers. The books explaining her village gods and the chosen ones to hold them are few and far to find. Especially hers,.... Wang-go.

Wang-go, The god of destruction and Creation. Originally locked away by his brothers and sisters who feared him. He was locked up for centuries on end until eventually the chains that kept him trapped down began to slowly snap and break. Fearing for the worse, the people of her village offered the gods a vessel to lock him in. A woman with a type of heart defect, a husk empty heart. Now, per tradition, anyone who is born with a husk heart bears the burden of having Wang-go sealed away in them.

Herself was the most recent holder with the last being almost 6 generations ago. This makes the information Leah seeks few and far between. However,...

Sneakily smiling to herself. Leah searches through the auction menu. In no ways is she giving up. She will be able to master her powers and not just a little bit, no, she will figure out a way to perfect them.

“There you are..” Leah eyes a specific item on the auction menu. Zaviers’ ancient artifacts and wonders. On the menu, the store had just auctioned off a scroll yesterday that was only just 30 kilometers away from her village. So there is a high enough chance that the store had a book or artifact about her village gods.

Now all she need is to get there and search those shelves.

“Damn it…” Leah sighs, slightly frustrated. An hour had gone by being in this store and there was still nothing about her gods. “All I need is one book about Wang-go, just one book.”

“Wang-go huh~?”

Leah freezes up as someone blows on the shell of her ear. The next thing Leah knows, she is half away across the room and feeling slightly nauseous. She thanked her stars for practicing her teleportation power recently.

“Oh~ how exciting. You never do fail to amaze me, don’t you, Lele?”

“Hisoka…” Leah mumbles angrily under her breath. This wasn’t good, she remembered Gon and Killua mentioning to her that they found out he’s part of the troupe. Plus after seeing him fighting in the arena against Gon, she doubts she can stand a chance against his Bungee gum. Shifting her feet slightly, she gets into a readied stance, ready to bolt out of there when she has a chance.

“Now, now, I’m not looking to fight you. I’m actually here to ask for your help.”

“Help? Not a chance. Give me one good reason I should help someone like you.”

Hisoka let’s out a chuckle as he pulls a clear bag out from behind his back. He twirled them around with his bungee gum as he waits for Leah’s response.

“Wait a minute…T-those are…”

“Wang-go scrolls? Why yes they are, Lele.”

“How in the world did you get your grubby han—“

“Now, now~ I’m on a tight schedule. How about we chit chat more about this…” Hisoka takes the bag back into his hand before waving it around. Making it disappear in a cloud of smoke like magic, “... later~.”

Leah pauses for a moment, taking in her options before sighing. “Fine. But, I swear to god if any of this plan has to do with hurting any of my friends I’m out, you hear me?”

“Crystal~”

“Okay… so I know I agreed to help. But, why the heck is Illumi here as well?” Leah groans, scooching more into the corner of the backseat of the car. Hisoka lets out a small chuckle from the passenger seat but he chooses not to respond and continues to toy with his cards.

“Chrollo paid me some money for a Job and I need to pick up the rest in person.” Illumi says, his bug like eyes trained on the road ahead. Does this man just not blink?

Leah just decided the best option would be to ignore Illumi’s presence for now. Looking out the car window, she decides to somehow entertain herself by watching the little water droplets racing down the transparent surface. It was strange, the rain in New York. Mostly due to the fact that the city bordered a Desert.

Letting out a sigh, Leah thinks of the possible scenarios as to why Hisoka would need her. Well, she actually didn’t exactly need to guess why, she knew that he needed her for her powers. It was actually more for what. She just— Suddenly she feels her phone go off in her pocket.

Hesitantly, she sneaks a glance at the two men sitting in the front and sees them occupied in a conversation. Leah, determining it was safe enough, unlocks her phone. She bites her lip as she opens the missed messages from Killua.

From: Killua Hey where are you? The plan fell through.

From: Killua Get back here as soon as possible.

Leah blinks and knits her brows in confusion. What is Killua talking about? They planned to track the base to tail a specific member. How did that fall through?

Sent: Leah

What do you mean it fell through?

Leah’s blood ran cold as she read the next message.

From: Killua

The troope has already left York New. Kurapika also got a message from Hisoka saying that their partnership is over with.

Sent: Leah

Killua. Hisoka hasn’t left, I’m with him right now.

Before Leah could see what Killua could send back, a card splits the screen in half. Flinching she drops the phone on the car floor, watching it glitch and fizz out.

“Now. Now, Lele~. Let's pay attention to the situation at hand shall we.” Hisoka tells the young girl with a smile. Leah lets out a shaky breath and decides the best option would be to not test her luck for now. Fighting Hisoka right now would be a bad option especially with Illumi here as well to back him up if need be. Watching carefully, she observes as they drive through the maze-like outskirts of the city. After a couple of turns, they come to a stop in front of a train station.

Looking around confused, Leah mutters out “Why are we here?”

Illumi and Hisoka both ignore her again as they get out of the car. Hisoka comes around to the back doors to let her out.

“Hisoka! I’m serious. Tell me why we are here?”

Hisoka stares at Leah as she glares back at him. Somehow seeming to contemplate his answer, he finally says. “You're a gift.”

“Excuse me?” Leah stutters out as Hisoka grabs onto her wrist, pulling her out of the car. Hisoka begins to explain as he forces her to walk with them into the station.

“You’re a smart girl aren’t you? I’m sure you can understand this quite well. The boss has found out that I’ve had some connection with the chain user. So I’ve lost some… trust… with him per say.”

Illumi signals to Hisoka to go through a specific doorway, causing the three of you to enter an empty hallway with hardly any people. Even with the lack of people, Hisoka doesn’t relax his grip against Leah’s wrist as they continue to walk.

“I thought I was at a loss you see. I had lost the boss’ trust and lost a chance in getting so close to fighting him. But then I remember, your cute little face—“

“Don’t call me cute you narsistik clown.” Leah snaps back as the three of them return to a crowded area. Though after a quick look around, Leah realizes they are back outside yet this time on steel platforms with many trains coming to and from.

“Some just don’t know how to take a compliment.” Hisoka laughs unbothered by the girl’s offhand insult. He just continued on with his task of yanking Leah onto one of the train cars. “It’s just I remembered the Boss being so disappointed when he couldn’t find the chosen ones from the tribal areas of Aruni. Thankfully, I realized quickly that since I knew you are one of those chosen ones, the boss will surely find you interesting and in return, hopefully forgive me.”

Catching Leah off guard, Hisoka suddenly harshly pushes her into one of the private train cars before closing the door.

“Hey Hisoka!” Leah yells, stumbling up rather quickly from being thrown on the ground and tugs at the door handle. Though she curses under her breath as soon as she finds out it is locked shut, “Open this up righ—“

“A Child?”

A shiver goes up Leah’s spine as she hears a male’s voice from behind her. In a flash, maybe due to her instincts or maybe her training, she leaps to the other end of the cabin. With a hammering heartbeat, she observes the black haired male in the same room as her. The train car was not that large, so it gave her a rather good glimpse at him. Some being the cross-like tattoo on his forehead or the crystal blue earrings poking out from the tufts of his hair.

“Oh my. How interesting.” The man seemed to marvel at something and take a step closer. “What sort of power is going on with your hands?”

Quickly, Leah takes a short glance around and gasps as she sees her hands glowing and sparkling. She wanted to practically bang her head on the wall for making a stupid mistake as to activate her powers.

“Oh I see.” Leah takes a step back from the man as he continues to approach, “That’s not a Nen ability is it? I guess Hisoka wasn’t bluffing this time around.”

Ever so suddenly, the man pauses his approaching movements and instead takes a seat at one of the booth chairs. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he unnervingly smiles and says “Please, take a seat.”

Leah breath and heart stutters in unison. There was nothing friendly about that man's smile. It was like staring at the teeth of a poisonous viper, ready to sink its teeth in and go for the kill. Taking a gulp to hopefully moisten her dry throat, she knows she has to force herself to move. That man was not asking her to take a seat, it was an order. Cautiously she makes her way and sits down from across the man.

A thick silence enters the room as the man pours himself and Leah some tea. He takes a light sip of his tea but Leah doesn’t copy his movements. She can only stare at the hot dark black water in front of her. Even with her throat as dry as sand, she doesn’t attempt to drink it.

The man opens his mouth to speak but a loud whistle cuts him off. The main lights of the cabin suddenly shut off and the train begins to slow chug forward, now leaving the station. Leah turns to look frantic out the window.

“I need to go.” She breathes out, her heart beating faster the further they get away from the train station.

“Pardon?”

“My friends. They are still in York New City. I can’t—“

The man lets out a chuckle causing Leah to pause. Crap, what was she thinking. She can’t let her emotions get carried away. This isn’t some normal person she is conversing with, it’s the leader of the phantom troupe. A person with a class A bounty on his head.

The man takes another sip of his tea, finishing it off, before looking back at Leah. “I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer them if you can.”

Leah slowly nods her head. She knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“First, What’s your name?”

“Leah.” Her voice cracks a little as she speaks causing an uncomfortable feeling in her throat. In order to sort the discomfort, she grabs her cup of tea and takes a sip. Surprisingly, the man waits patiently before asking another question.

“What’s your god?”

Hesitant, she decides to answer it simply and vaguely. “Wang-go”

“Ah, The God of destruction and creation. Though most considered him to be a Monster due to him being predicted to look as a ugly mix of boar, man and crane.”

“How do you know that?” Leah speaks out. Such information was only known by city elders and holders such as herself. The man ponders for a little, taking a quick glance at the desert scenery that has come to view now that they have left the city, before getting up and grabbing something. Coming back, he places the bag down and takes out a scroll.

“Though I can’t read your native language, I had a native translate bits and pieces of it to me a long time ago.” He seemed to skip over the obvious part of slaughter some to get the scrolls, but Leah decided to not press into that topic.

“Do you know what’s in these scrolls, Leah?” Leah shivers. The way her name rolled off his tongue like they were old time friends was extremely disturbing to her.

“I’d have to read them. I was never allowed to look through them.”

“I see. Then, who taught you your powers? I heard they had to be trained and practiced over many years to use on command.”

“Well, I do have a book that I got a while ago…” Leah pauses for a second. She was in a tough spot. If she revealed that she hasn’t mastered her powers, she could be considered useless and killed. Though, she could also be let go instead. Was it a good idea to take that risk though…

“I see, so you're not well versed in your abilities yet.” Leah freezes. This was going horribly for her right now. She in no way was stupid or trying to make it obvious in her hesitation, it was just this man always seemed to somehow be one step ahead of her.

Being extremely on guard, Leah watches as the man leans his hand over to her. He strangely extends his pinky out to her. She gives him a confused look as a sudden lightning strike flashes on both of them.

“How about we make a deal, Leah.”

“A deal…?”

“I will allow you to use all of the scrolls and books I have to help you gain your powers.” The man pauses for a second and a serious look comes onto his face, “However, in exchange you will become the troope’s temporarily new number 11 and I will personally be in charge of observing your progress.”

Knowing she has no choice, Leah reaches over to agree but stops short when he speaks up again.

“I want your honest commitment. Not to force this on you.”

“Why? Won’t you just kill me if I don’t agree?”

The man hums in agreement, “Usually I would but in this case it would be such a waste to kill you. As well as the fact that it would be an honest nuisance if you agreed and tried to escape every chance you got. So it would be beneficial if you agreed willingly.”

Leah thinks for a moment. She knew the right choice was to go back with Gon and Killua as well as the rest. It was so obvious, they were her friends. Yet,... why couldn’t she just do so.

“Leah! Stay here! Killua and I can take care of this.”

“Idiot. You have to be careful, you aren’t as strong as us yet.”

“Don’t worry Leah. I’ll make sure to retrieve those idiots, just stay here and read a book.”

“Trust me, Leah. I don’t want you to come. You aren’t fast enough yet to go against the troope. You’ll just end up being an easy target.”

Oh… she knew why. She was just tired of being left behind again and again. She wanted to prove she was just as strong as her friends. She wanted to join them on their adventures as well.

Gon…. Killua….Leorio. And Kurapika. I’m sorry but… I can't continue to be left behind anymore.

“I-I. I accept.” Leah says, hesitatingly connecting her pinky with his. She shivers at his strangly cold hands touching hers. Even more strangely, like out of a movie or book, thunder and lightning crashes throughout the sky in that moment

“Excellent. I realized I haven’t formally introduced myself. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer but you can just call me boss.”

Standing up from his seat, he gestures for Leah to get up as well which she does as well. Lightly, Chrollo places a hand on her shoulder and begins to lead her out of the private train car. “I say we go introduce you to the other members.”

“Of course…

...Boss.”