#but know this is mostly about cassandra losing herself and wondering if she ever really became “cassandra”

[thegempage]

listen. listen. listen. your loved one came back wrong except you're the only one who sees it. the love of your life is not who they claim to be. you don't know who they are but everyone else around you treats them like the person they're pretending to be and you have to wonder if you, perhaps, are the one who has changed. did you bring them back only to sacrifice yourself in the process? who are you? who are you to decide who they are? are you projecting the missing pieces onto them, looking for problems where there are none because you don't recognize the person in the mirror anymore?

[valleynix]

Hey hot stuff 🧍 I think you know why I'm here- may I place one order of Bela HCs? Pls I'm good for it 💳

listen, you should know by now i'll answer anything you ask <33

coming right up: HCs of our favorite angsty oldest child

i imagine it's pretty easy to tell when Bela is upset about something

much as she might not want to admit it, she's a lot like Daniela in a lot of ways. if she's upset, she becomes very reclusive and will just throw herself into her work to distract her

ever wonder if she doesn't like someone? if she won't speak to them outside of required interactions, it's safe to assume she doesn't

her love language is quality time

she's a very busy person, and she likes just being able to do her own thing (work or not) while also hanging out with someone

she may act like she doesn't like her younger siblings or thinks they're complete imbeciles, but if anyone else says something bad about them? they better run for the hills

you may not believe it, but she cares a lot about what other people think of her

it's hard being the heir to Lady Dimitrescu. she has pretty big shoes to fill, and she gets really upset anytime someone is disappointed in her

she is a perfectionist, and she will beat herself up if she does something wrong

much like Cassandra, she likes when certain people snap back at her or tease her back. none of the maids ever do it, so it's really refreshing

she is fiercely stubborn, and even if she's clearly in the wrong, she won't admit it until after the argument (something she learned from her mother, probably)

when it comes to self-control, she's a mix between Cassandra and Daniela. for certain things, she can handle herself and the new instincts the Cadou gave her by stepping away from the situation or distracting herself

she does have a tendency to go a little feral after drinking fresh blood, so it's probably best to stay away if it's her feeding time

unless you're into that. i don't judge >:)

Bela does feel horrible for everything her sisters have gone through to get to where they are, though she doesn't regret what she did

her favorite places to mark her partner are their neck and thighs

it's not uncommon for her and Cassandra to get into fights over petty things (mostly caused by the latter), to which they'll both just agree to disagree after a week of not speaking and move on with their lives

she enjoys people-watching

she fidgets with her gloves or sleeves as a nervous habit

she's a morning person, usually awake around the same time the sun rises

...does she get a lot of sleep? no, but she will ensure her partner gets at least eight hours

aka, try to disturb them and you will lose a few fingers

reading books is a way for her to lose herself in a world where she's not... her

that isn't to say she dislikes her life or would exchange it for anything; sometimes, she just wishes she could have lived a better life like the one in her books

she's not really sure why, but she was drawn to music, something her mother definitely encouraged and something she received many head pats for

in most aspects of her life, Bela is in complete control. she is authoritative and stern, but sometimes, she just needs some comfort and needs to be told someone is proud of her

(she doesn't like to admit it, though, so assume she needs to be comforted when she tugs on your clothing and sticks close to you when it's unnecessary to do so)

the maids prefer her to run into, simply because she won't look twice at them unless they've done something to offend her

which, yknow. if you have done something to offend her, expect your lifespan to be shortened to about five more days

she may be calm and quiet, but she is literally just as bad (or sometimes worse) as her sisters. she's just not as vocal about it

she will spoil those she cares about. Duke has a new necklace in stock? what a lovely gift for Mother. maybe he's got a few books the castle doesn't have? well, Dani would probably like that. she finds out a man in the village didn't pay his tithe this month? Cassie mentioned she needed some more subjects...

she is a bit of a hypocrite at times

she can't help it; she has her mother's pride and stubbornness, and she just can't understand what she's saying or doing wrong in the moment

translated to: i just don't want to see that i'm doing anything wrong when i'm angry or upset

just like her sisters, Bela has gone into the village to see if she could find anything on her past

well, that wasn't actually the reason she went the first time, but it was for the second

the first time she went, she was just looking for Duke. it took her a few minutes to realize someone was trying to talk to her by calling her a name she didn't recognize

she's never disliked being taller than most people since waking up, but when she saw the look on that woman's face - the fear in her eyes...

it didn't leave a pleasant feeling in her stomach

she tried to ask Alcina why that was, but her mother claimed not to know

she kept sneaking out to see those people in the village, trying to find answers and why they felt so... familiar?

when they told her they were her family...

she returned to the castle that night, blood drenching her hands and clothing. her limbs shook as she sobbed and found her mother in her study, and she was comforted throughout the night without a single word

whoever those people were, they were not her family

she still thinks of it sometimes, still wonders if they were telling the truth

but then she'll see her sisters and mother in the morning, and those thoughts are purged from her mind

she already had a family

[infernalrevenge]

Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could possibly request your take on Reader and each of the Dimitrescu Daughters with how they show affection? Nuzzles, kisses, hugs/snuggles, terms of endearment, gifts, nsfw, etc. One big fluff-ball. Just bury me in the warm fuzzy. Thank you!

This is excellent timing, anon friendo because I had been thinking of making a Love Languages Headcanon List for some time now, so this is a great way to start on that! I hope this satisfies your mushy fluffy warm fuzzball desires (that I kept relatively PG) :P

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

Bela Dimitrescu

Bela felt that she had a reputation to uphold as the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu family, ever so meticulous yet also eager to please. But she does know her boundaries.

More often than not, she finds herself busy with her mother in helping run the business, hoping to one day become a proper heir. I mention all this so you know her situation -- she's a working gal and you gotta respect that.

However, she is not one to leave her loved ones hanging. The best way she shows her love is by spending quality time with you, doing things that you might enjoy. It gives her a chance to better get to know her love.

Of course she would have her way as well, doing activities she liked such as art, music, and more. You two might even try something new to the both of you, just for some added thrill.

It doesn't always have to be "something" to do though, she's more than happy to just simply be in the same space as you while you do your own thing. That counts as "doing something together", right?

You could be reading a book on one corner of the room and she could be reviewing some important notes on the bed, but you two are just so comfortable in the quiet space you've made for yourselves that it feels like you two are side-by-side.

She just likes to know you're there, your presence alone is a great source of comfort to her. She loves to see you happy and content, especially knowing it's because she's around. Once you get into it, there is no such thing as an awkward silence between the two of you.

I imagine she's not that big on initiating physical affection, but she would be hard pressed to deny you anything. From something as simple as holding her hand, to spooning and cuddling, to a full-on make out session -- all you have to do is ask. She's more than happy to deliver.

Her favorite position is being the big spoon in bed, finding a lot of comfort in knowing that you are in her grasp, safe and sound. She also enjoys planting a few kisses on your shoulder and neck in an attempt to rouse you from slumber.

While she was still courting you (because I like to imagine she's a bit of an old-fashioned romantic, but she would have courted you regardless of your gender), she would often bring you gifts. They weren't extravagant, but they were definitely meaningful, and often related to things you two had talked about in the past.

She didn't use pet names very often but she will call you "love" on occasion, especially if there was a chance you would call her that in return. She may not openly admit it but she just melts every time you call her that -- made it feel like having a crush on you all over again.

Even though she may seem distant on the outside, Bela is truly a woman who makes the most of her time with people she cares about. You are no exception to that, and she wants that to be known to you as much and as often as possible.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra, much like her older sister, believes she too has a reputation to uphold within the family. Can't have her be seen going soft for just anyone.

But uh, plot twist: Girl just wants to be loved, and she doesn't even know it.

In private, she really really loves physical affection. She shows her love by clinging onto you as tightly as possible, melding so closely to you that it becomes hard to tell where her body ended and yours began.

She loves pressing her cheek and ear against your chest to hear the calming beat of your heart, the warmth of your skin just under her fingertips, and her head tucked right under your chin while you two lay in bed together.

Truthfully, she started doing this when you first got together because she enjoyed how flustered you seemed when she basically had herself wrapped around you. But over time, the both of you realized just how much she liked being this close to you too. You teased her for it once and she shut you out of your own room for a while. (She only let you back in because she suddenly missed cuddling you.)

This was a trait that kind of carried over from her hunting instincts, but she was very observant of others -- their tics, habits, routines, and all the like. She took notice of a lot of things other people did, didn't do, and couldn't do. It made her very attentive to her loved ones.

This manifested in the form of performing acts of service. Toward you, it ranged from simple things like keeping objects that were usually out of your reach to a more manageable height (either by her own action or an order to a servant) to helping you relax after a long and tiring day, to even performing your chores for you if she knew you were having a hard time with them.

Anything that she could help with to make herself useful, she would do. She wanted her loved ones to move around comfortably and without much worry, and she would take on that burden if that was what it took.

Granted it didn't necessarily mean she did well in these endeavors, but the effort did not go unnoticed. And you would never see the girl try to half-ass anything -- once she started on a task, you bet your sweet ass she was going to get it done too.

Her terms of "endearment" were very teasing and, out of context, could be downright insulting. You would never hear anything so generic as "baby" or "sweetie" (unless she was being condescending.) "Little shit" (affectionate) was more her speed.

If you also called her nicknames with a similar amount of creativity, she would return it with the same enthusiasm. She didn't take those things to heart anyway. If insults were a love language, this would be one of hers.

Cassandra is a little rough around the edges when it comes to love and intimacy, but she loves so fiercely. It's like a fire, raging on the more you feed its maw -- the only difference is that this fire would never die out.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is the most affectionate and most likely to be a hopeless romantic in the family. She always daydreamed of having a "knight in shining armor" of her own, but honestly she'll take anyone who would love her for herself.

Definitely the type to show off her wonderful significant other, either "subtly" through a bit of PDA, or more overtly through a lot of PDA and more grand gestures of love. Just let her do this, she has so much love to give and she needs that energy to go somewhere.

Even in private spaces, she would never let go of your hand if she had her way. Trying to separate from her when she wasn't in the mood would get you the "kicked puppy dog" treatment from her. It's not her fault you were so warm and nice to be around.

She loves being the little spoon in bed. There's just something reassuring about having a warm presence right behind her, your arms wrapped around her middle. You could even kick a leg on top of her waist -- all she wants is to get as close to you as she possibly can.

When you're working on a desk and sitting on a chair, she will inevitably sit on your lap and snuggle up against you while you try to do whatever it is you're doing. No matter how many times she promises that "you won't even know she's there", it's kind of hard to ignore the way she just buries her face into your neck and the little snores coming out of her if she falls asleep like this.

Calls you very cheesy and almost strange pet names like "honey pie" and "sweetie baby boo". You're never sure if she actually meant them or was messing with you because of her tone, but you can tell she was always amused by your reaction to them, which was part of the reason she kept saying them.

She did also have an inner poet though, so she may suddenly pull lines like "the moon to my night" that would make you stumble and wonder what had possessed your girlfriend. And then you would remember how much she enjoyed reading romance novels, so it made more sense.

Sometimes she'll pull them out early in the morning right as you two were just waking up, limbs entangled with the other's. Then you'd hear her call you "light of my life" in her deep sleepy voice, and you just have to hide the big goofy smile on your face behind a pillow or something.

She also loves to give you gifts, mostly because she liked how your face would light up whenever you received one. Oftentimes, they are little trinkets that remind her of you that she spotted one day and thought to give to you. Kind of like a cat presenting a dead mouse or bird to its owner, but not as gross.

She says "I love you" and any similar declarations pretty often, but the words never lose their meaning. Just know that she always says them with her whole heart, regardless of the tone she takes on when she does.

She also enjoys doing random acts of affection because she likes seeing how you react to them, whether you get all blushy and a little embarrassed, or you return them in kind. Either way, she is very happy and it gives her the warm fuzzies when you play along.

Like I said, Daniela just has so much love to give, and she would be so happy to see that energy enthusiastically returned. Just give her a chance and you'll never have to doubt her feelings for you.

[honeysofte-archieve]

birdsong.

rating: teens and up. suggestive themes.

pairing: cremisius aclassi/female lavellan.

word count: 2,559

summary: Lavellan stays the night. Or rather: a morning.

haven’t written anything in a long while so this might come off as really clumsy & cringy, but here it is, anyway! <3

* * *

She is wearing his shirt.

She is sitting by the wide window sill, leaning against the wall and reading a leather-bound book while balancing a cup of herbal tea on one of her folded knees, and she is wearing his shirt and--

not much else, to be honest.

This is naturally the first thing Krem notices once he opens his eyes because he’s surprisingly one-track minded when it comes to Lavellan to his greatest embarrassment. Not that her appearance is the only thing that he cares about, far from it for he would adore her no matter what, but it certainly makes her all the more distracting to him.

The boys like to give him shit about it, too -- how utterly obvious and showy his affection and desire for her is. Krem would shut their faces permanently with his fist if Lavellan didn’t find it so endearing and smile at him sweetly whenever the topic comes up. Sometimes she even gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in front of all of them like she’s not ashamed at all of his affection for her and isn't afraid to show she returns the sentiment just as wholly.

And isn’t that the most amazing thing in the world for someone to have? To love and be loved so genuinely and kindly that one can feel it all the way inside their spine and lungs, a comforting presence no one wants to lose, ever.

in ao3.  ♥

But of course, the topic of love has never come up, at least in spoken words. Everything is still quite new and wonderful, but Krem knows it's true. He loves her. And he's pretty positive she loves him too. Or he hopes she does, the other option gives him way too much anxiety so he's trying not to think about it. Like, ever.

But anyway, Krem can’t help but stare with no words to describe what he is feeling. He can feel the faint flicker of red on his cheeks. He can feel how his heartbeat quickens two-fold. He can feel a weight loosening free inside his chest as he watches this beautiful creature that is somehow his.

Inquisitor Lavellan looks open and vulnerable and beautiful in the morning sun, the light dancing on her neck and chest-- the old scars on her face, the faint stretch marks and moles littering her thighs and arms more prominent this way. She is frowning slightly as she reads, her teeth tugging her lower lip in concentration at whatever is happening in the book, before she licks her thumb and turns another page, oblivious to Krem’s gawking.

The shirt, of course, is not the main reason he can't keep his eyes away from her, though, even if she looks very attractive in it.

No, the very thing that has Krem astonished is that she's still here. In his room. In the morning. For the first time since they've started doing this, kissing and laughing and having sex, and Krem… isn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Lavellan is a very busy woman after all.

A few moments pass before Lavellan glances in his direction and takes a double-look when she notices him awake. Krem kind of does this awkward finger-wiggle sort of thing at her because it's quite impossible for her not to figure out he's been staring at her quite intently for a while now.

"Good morning, Cremisius,” Lavellan murmurs with a small smile on her heart-shaped face and does a finger-wiggle right back at him, making it look somehow elegant and not idiotic as hell.

No one, not one person, calls him Cremisius. No one except for her. And he likes how the name forms in her mouth, likes the look on her face as she says it aloud. His heart always skips a beat when she does it and he doesn’t think he will ever get used to it. He is so easy for her.

Lavellan looks unusually relaxed this morning, Krem has not often seen her like this-- probably no one does. She works and works and works and rarely takes time for herself and it’s always rubbed Krem off the wrong way how much people demand of her, never giving her a break, never letting her just be. Sometimes he feels like fighting every fucker who makes her feel like she doesn't deserve time for herself, but he desists. Mostly.

But here she is. Here she is this morning; still with him despite her duties and demands of others. For the first time during their relationship. It's almost astonishing.

“Morning.” Krem’s throat is slightly dry and his voice catches just a little when he meets her bronze coloured eyes. Maker, he hopes it’s not too obvious.

“Did you sleep well?” Lavellan asks gently, closes her book and takes a sip of her still steaming tea. She mustn't have been awake for long though the morning seems already later than normal. Krem is usually already long awake at this hour, doing drills with the boys or eating an early lunch.

Krem blinks and blinks again before finally realises she’s expecting an answer and he ends up nodding. And for a while, they just keep staring at each other in silence before Krem can’t help but beam at her in something like happiness.

“I like your shirt,” he blurts out, feeling absolutely moronic today for some reason. It makes Lavellan lift her eyebrow and for a while, Krem is sure she’s going to ignore the comment as she often does, but this time she only shrugs and says:

“I was feeling a little cold.”

It’s summer and it’s not true, both of them know that, so Krem grins, his lips wide, and Lavellan rolls her eyes in something like fondness. She scratches her leg, the shirt collar dropping downwards as her body moves and Krem has to swallow hard.

The moment isn’t awkward, per se, it’s just new and it seems like neither of them really knows how to fill it. It doesn't feel like the place for empty chatter.

“You look good in it. Comfortable. Very.... stimulating,” he dares to comment and suppresses a lewd grin that threatens to slip out.

“Hmm,” Lavellan answers. She seems amused, however faintly, which Krem takes as a victory. He feels an urge to do something with his hands-- pull her closer across the distance and touch the soft skin of her thigh. Or something.

“So,” Krem says slowly. The scratchy sheets are bundled around his waist and he scratches his abdomen. His chest is bound, but he doesn’t feel self-conscious around her, not anymore. For she knows him; she knows most things about him. He knows a little less about her, but he’s determined to learn every piece of her in time.

Lavellan opens her book again.

“So,” Lavellan answers and even though she’s not looking at him, the corners of her mouth are twitching. It makes Krem braver than he is.

“I kind of didn’t expect you to still be here.”

His words are casual and not accusing, not in the slightest, and he’s glad that Lavellan notices it as well because her expression doesn’t change.

“I’m taking the day off,” Lavellan replies and flips a page forward in her book, though she’s not reading it as far as Krem can tell, just staring at the words since her eyes don’t move on the paper.

“Can an inquisitor take a day off?”

“Who could stop me? I am the Inquisitor,” Lavellan kind of scoffs, kind of laughs. Krem’s gaze is focused on her pink mouth because, Maker, he is apparently just as bad as most other men are when it comes to a pretty face. He really hopes Lavellan doesn’t notice, that’d be quite embarrassing. Not that he has ever pretended to know something about words like honour or chastity.

“... Fair point.”

Lavellan hums underneath her breath, a breathy sound that is filled with something untraceable to him. He wonders what she’s thinking about.

“What are you reading?” Krem asks casually as he can, feeling slightly idiotic because he doesn’t know what to do at this moment. He wants to stand up and go to her, he wants to kiss her and pull her back to bed and do things to her that makes her body wet with sweat and pleasure.

Still, he does nothing except grip the bedsheets into this fist and takes a deep breath. He can be patient when he wills so-- he can be patient for her.

“A romance novel. Or rather a bodice ripper, I would say.”

“Shit,” Krem replies. Or more like mumbles as he still feels a little tired after the night despite having slept so long this morning. He's sort of surprised the chief hasn't come barreling through his door yet, the big damn oaf.

“Josephine gave it to me,” Lavellan continues casually. She is combing her long blonde hair with her fingers as she speaks and Krem wants nothing more than to touch her right at this moment. He aches with it, his fingers cramping at how hard he is gripping the bedsheets.

“She apparently got it from Vivienne who got it from Cassandra who got it from Sera who got it from... somewhere." Lavellan pauses. "Josephine called it the ‘the most beautifully written love story of this age’ so naturally, I needed to read it.”

“So, how is it?”

Krem doesn't want to talk about books.

He wants to pull her back into his bed and do things to her with his mouth and sleep some more afterwards.

“Mildly entertaining and educational. Considerably smuttier than I expected truth to be told, but I don’t mind. See, I had no idea qunari could be so incredibly... bendy.”

Lavellan grins at him, her mouth in a wicked bow, and Krem is not blushing. He is not. He is a grown man and doesn't flush at the mere mention of sex, that would be ridiculous considering he spends most of his time around Iron Bull and the other boys who hold nothing back.

"I'm certain you could ask the chief about it if you're really curious."

Lavellan huffs. "No thank you, that is definitely not the kind of conversation I want to have with my lover's superior."

Krem's heart jumps into his throat. Lover, he thinks. He likes the sound of the word. It feels fitting for them.

“Come here,” he requests throatily, changing the subject to something he is more desperate for. “Please.”

Lavellan spends a moment only looking, or perhaps studying, him with her piercing eyes before she sets down the book and her now empty teacup on the window sill and comes to him, all gentle smiles and cold fingertips. Just before he lays down, she takes off his shirt and Krem feels a tiny bang of disappointment before he realises that the sight of her bare frame, her charming curves and soft belly and generous chest, the constellations of freckles, moles and scars on her skin, are a marginally better sight.

Lavellan lets him look at her a moment that doesn't feel like enough time to drink in the picture she makes before she settles beside him on her stomach and Krem closes her delicate hand inside his own sword-callused one.

“You look so beautiful,” he confesses, perhaps too honestly, the words escaping his mouth like a bird out of its cage For a short moment Lavellan looks almost impossibly surprised like this is something she didn’t expect him to say at all. Her eyes are wide and sweet with something like utter fondness for him.

“And you are looking very handsome,” she counters, never quite knowing what to do with a direct compliment and this time he definitely blushes quite visibly but finds himself not minding it that much at all anymore. She could see all of him, naked and laid bare, and he would let her, always. No secrets, no fears.

Lavellan cups Krem's cheek and peers at him with an unflinching look, her thumb stroking the curve of his moist mouth. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and he swallows hard.

“Your freckles have grown bolder under the summer sun,” she comments aloud as her fingers explore every nook of his face, tracing the bridge of his nose with her long nail and thumbing the fragile, blue skin underneath his eyes that are still puffy from sleep. He feels invincible, confident beyond explanation. That's what Lavellan does to Krem.

Krem licks his lips. He licks his lips and the tip of it catches on Lavellan's fingertip, just before she presses her tender mouth to his own and kisses him for the first time for what feels like forever.

And it's a very good kiss. One of the best he's ever had.

Not overly gentle, but intense and sweet, and it consumes him entirely with its depth, making him feel thoroughly light-headed and happy.

So happy. Being with Lavellan makes him the happiest he's ever been. He's a lucky son of a bitch and he’s the first one to admit that.

"I'm glad you stayed tonight," Krem whispers, his voice husky with need and she looks straight into his eyes before murmuring: "Me too."

Afterwards, a comfortable silence surrounds them for a long while. They fill it with kisses and hungry caresses, but they're not in a rush to start anything more. They continue until Lavellan breaks apart and searches his eyes with her own brown ones. For some reason, there's a touch of sadness in them.

"You know it's nothing personal, don't you?" she asks hesitantly, her fingers drumming against his chest as she talks-- a habit that tells him that she’s genuinely nervous about his answer. She swallows before continuing: "If I could, I would wake up in your arms every morning, it’s just-- "

"I know," Krem murmurs, shushing her words with a small peck. And he does, but fuck how he hates it. Sometimes he would just want to bury her in his arms and hide her from the rest of the world. Not that Lavellan would ever let him, but a man can dream.

"Good." Lavellan nods, satisfied. She brushes his forehead with the back of her hand, sweeping off a drooping hair strand that's been tickling his brow for a while now. Krem isn't sure if he deserves such tenderness from her. Or anyone.

"Good," Krem repeats with the biggest grin that flashes his teeth and Lavellan rolls her beautiful eyes before kissing him again with a fierce sort of enthusiasm that takes Krem off guard.

But neither of them are leading it to anything more. They're perfectly content just like this, with rush or impatience for nothing.

It's a new feeling and it's lovely.

"This is nice," Krem says after they pull apart again with their mouths wet and red, her doe-eyes almost swallowed up by her black pupils.

Lavellan looks entirely fond. She presses her lips to his forehead, the gesture not overly sweet but close enough. "It is."

"Maybe you could… take a day off again some time," Krem suggests making Lavellan sort of snort in surprise. Though before Krem can feel too bad about asking, she murmurs acceptance in his ear.

"Mm. I'll see what I can do."

It's as good as a promise.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Killing Cure (Part 12)

It’s been a hot minute but I’m back from my vacation. I mentioned on my other fic that I just got a new job so updates will still probably be slow as I now have a job on top of art fight, a zine, two other fics, and an original story. So a big thanks to everyone who sticks with this one and for all of the patience. 

Out of all of the beings that roam this godforsaken Earth, humans, monsters, mutants...it is Winters. Winters who has been on her mind since she kissed him. She wishes that she could call it an impulse but is it really an impulse if she had been thinking--however loosely--about it for several days before?

She wishes that he would do something to make her irreparably mad. But he doesn’t, he only ever seems to make her feel a sense of comfort. Even now when she is cringing at the sight of herself in a pair of pants, the man stands behind her with a collection of compliments. “You look great.” He promises. “It’s going to take some getting used to, you being dressed down, but it’s nice.”

Nice. He thinks that she looks nice. It is such a simple word, so plain, ordinary. But it means everything to her. Everything when she has felt anything but nice or attractive… “I’ve looked better.” She waves the compliment off. But, by God, it has taken at least some of the edge off of her mild sense of self loathing.

Ethan shrugs. “You just have to get used to streetwear.”

She chances another look in the mirror; she supposes that it isn’t quite so horrible. The shirt is loose and breathable though the linen fabric isn’t as kind on her skin as many of her gowns are. The pants are less comfy, more restrictive than her dresses but are easier to maneuver in without tripping. And she supposes that they don’t look too unflattering on her.

She jerks when Ethan suddenly thumps her hat onto her head. He laughs at her little jolt. “Do not test me, Winters! We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Just trying to help.” He replies. “I didn’t want you to forget your favorite hat.”

He favorite hate is actually several sizes too big for her and sits draped over a chair. But with an exact replica of it, she decides that the technicalities aren’t worth mentioning. “Are my girls ready?”

“They’re your daughters, you check on them.”

.oOo.

He watches Alcina make her way out of the room. Words and hissed out promises aside, the woman has become increasingly less hostile since she’d kissed him. He smiles to himself, at least he isn’t the most awkward of the two of them anymore. At least, he isn’t alone in his conflicted, affectionate feelings.  

She comes back with her daughters in tow; Bela has a grip on her left hand and Cassandra holds the left. Daniela, untethered, zips about, occasionally cutting in front of the other three before falling behind once more. The three of them are bundled up heavily, almost absurdly so. Alcina comes to a stop at the center of the room and Daniela takes the opportunity to lift her off of the ground.

“Daniela…” she grumbles through clenched teeth, “we talked about this…”

The woman cackles and puts her mother back down before bursting into a cloud of flies and rebuilding herself several feet away. Ethan has never seen anyone look less amused than Alcina in that moment. “We’re ready, Ethan.”

A jolt of adrenaline pulses through him, it is once again real. His mission is once again in sight and the dangers are once again going to be pressing. He wonders if Alcina is nervous now that illness has taken the place of a powerful mutation. She is just an ordinary woman with very basic gun skills. She gives no indication of nervousness, regardless of how she feels within.

Having grown used to the warmth of Castle Dimitrescu the cold stikes Ethan’s face as tough tendrils of the aurora borealis have reached down and coiled around his face. His is overcome by shivers, he can only imagine how the fly beasts are handling it. He doesn’t have to imagine it, one look behind him and he knows that they are recoiling. He thinks that he can hear faint crackles.

His speculation becomes knowledge when he sees the panic on Alcina’s face. Without a word of warning, she grabs all three of her daughters and, with more strength than he realized small Alcina has, ushers them back into the warmth of the castle.

Ethan follows her back inside. Her face is twisted in distress and concern, her breathing hastened. “Oh, my poor dears.” She mumbles more to herself than any of the three. “My poor little darlings…” She sandwiches Daniela’s hands between hers. “Winters, you get them some blankets,  now.”

Stress pinches her tone and he elects to ignore the snappiness of her request. She holds Daniela to her chest, letting the woman drink in her body heat.

.oOo.

Were she herself she would be more efficient. She would mostly envelop Daniela until the frost retracts from her skin. Having skipped the test steps and thrown herself headfirst into the frosty outside world, the woman had taken the worst of its merciless frigidness--she is too bold for her own safety.

Alcina holds her so close--feeling the woman’s shivers and shakes--and brushes her hand over her hair.  For once she finds herself thankful for her softness, it gives her an added warmth which she extends to Daniela. She has the urge to squeeze the woman but she must handle her with care, she is so terribly fragile right now.

Ethan comes back with three blankets which he wraps around Bela and Cassandra and then over Daniela’s. “Thank you, Ethan.” She murmurs as she continues to stroke Daniela’s hair. “We will have to see if the Duke will be a gentleman enough to look after my daughters while I’m gone.”

Ethan nods.

“Mother, it’s so cold.” Bela whimpers.

“It hurts.” Cassandra adds.

“I know dears, it’s going to be alright.”

“I think that I’m dying, mother.”

Alcina shakes her head, “no, Daniela. You’re going to be just fine, dear. We’ll get you nice and warm again.” She kisses the top of her head.

“I saw a deer pretty close by, I can get them some warm deer blood.” Ethan offers.

“Yes, Ethan, that would be ideal.”

With only a nod, he makes his way outside again. There is a new fluttering in her belly alongside the anxious tickles. She isn’t sure what to make of these flutters. But she knows where they come from. She watches Ethan through the window, watches him chase the deer down, likely cussing and shouting. She observes and she can’t help but let her mind wander. She barely knows him beyond the very basics. She has mostly tormented the man, mocked him. And yet he is good to her. He is kind to her girls. They aren’t even his own and yet he is fetching meals and warmth for them.

.oOo.

Ethan is completely drained by the time he gets back from his deer hunt. Physically and mentally--he can’t hold it against them, it isn’t the fault of the daughters that they can’t endure the cold. But it is still a setback. Still one more day away from finding Rose. One more day that leads her closer to a heinous sort of death.

He leaves the deer on the table, decidedly the girls can eat it raw and he can fix himself and Alcina a meal. Or perhaps she’d be willing to do the cooking this time. He opens his mouth to call for the daughters but the flies are already gathering. Three identical swarms that take shape.

“Where’s your mother?” He asks at the shaping of Cassandra.

The girl shrugs, “either the kitchen, having a bath, or the bedroom.”

“I’ll check the kitchen.” He knows that she is there before he reaches it. He isn’t exactly sure what she is cooking but she has added what smells like an overabundance of spice.

“What are we cooking?”

“I am cooking soup.” Alcina sets a bowl on the table. “Just a little recipe that Donna showed me.”

“She really loves her spices.”

Alcina shakes her head, “I like spices. Donna cooks her food quite bland. Donna favors simplicity.”

“Your daughters seem like they are recovering well.”

She sighs, “they should be in bed resting.” She clicks her tongue. “I can never get them to rest well. Daniela wakes up and then all three of them are awake.”

Ethan laughs, “sounds about right, kids are just like that no matter how old they get.” He pauses, “do you need rest?”

Alcina thinks for a moment, “I will be fine for now. The medications are working quite sufficiently.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You sound unhappy.”

“I was hoping to be well on our way to find Rose.” He sees the vexation flash across her face but before she can rave at him he adds, “it’s...fine, it isn’t their fault. Just frustrating circumstances.” This answer seems to placate the woman. She silently continues eating her soup. He has to admit that it isn’t bad at all. Perhaps a little strong for his tastes but he is just thankful that he didn’t have to cook this time. “You don’t seem all too happy either.” He comments after pushing his bowl aside.

Alcina stares into her empty soup bowl. “I’m afraid of losing my girls. Today was a reminder of just how easily it can happen. They’ve been in more danger lately than they have been in, in years…” She stands and beckons for him to follow. Once upon a time, perhaps only a week or so ago, he would have hesitated. This time he trails closely behind her.

“I have a feeling that everyone will be too preoccupied trying to kill us to go after them.” He shrugs. He supposes that that isn’t all too reassuring. He is surprised to see her smile slightly and nod in agreement. There is something comforting about her willingness to die in place of her daughters, to put herself in danger to keep it far away from them. Humanity, he realizes. And he realizes too, that she would have done the same prior to his arrival. Humanity in a woman who, at that point, hadn’t been human in so long.

He watches her climb onto her bed. She gives a rather dramatic sigh and mutters, “I should make sure that my girls are…”

“I can get them into bed.” He doesn’t allow for protest. Rather, he slips out of the room and herds the three of them into their room.

“Do we get another bedtime story, Winters?” Bela asks.

“I wasn’t planning--”

“We need a story to sleep.” Daniela insists. “Mother always reads to us.”

And thus he finds himself suckered into reading them to sleep a second time. Alcina, he finds, has nodded off in his absence and jolts awake at his sudden reappearance. She grumbles something, that he can’t quite catch, about knocking first. “Sorry.” He mouths. Truth  be told, he isn’t sure why he has come back to her room instead of going to the guest bedroom. “They’re all tucked in and read to.”

The smile she gives him this time is much softer than usual, sleepier too. It is pleasant, inviting. He finds himself wondering, again, who she had been before the mutation. What she had been like prior to Mother Miranda. She pats a spot on the bed next to her.

“Thank you for caring for my girls. They can be...difficult to manage when it is just me.”

“You’re…” he feels her weight shift onto him. “You’re welcome.” He chances holding her with his right arm. When she doesn’t jerk away or protest, he strokes her hair, trying to ease her stress away.  He thinks that it is working.

It must be... She said it wouldn’t happen again, he knew that she was lying, he just didn’t expect her to stray from her promise so soon; she kisses his neck. And when she closes her eyes and rests her head against him, her curls tickle his neck. He holds his hand against her cheek--he supposes that he will be spending another night in her company. A night with her in his arms.

[whaleiumsharkspeare]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Varian’s role in season 3, beyond just that as the resident kid who invents whatever is needed to save the day’s issue or stopping the red rocks or even being a kidnapped victim who unwittingly gives Cassandra the third incantation but also gives Rapunzel the one she needs to defeat her. More so, I’ve been thinking about Varian’s unspoken role as a source of hope for Rapunzel. Because Rapunzel had just been betrayed by a friend again, and even with all her positivity she probably still felt really down on herself for the whole situation and may have, in her darkest late night moments, wondered if there was any chance that she could still reach Cassandra. Who better to help Rapunzel keep her faith in Cassandra than Varian? Even after Varian betrayed her, he still managed to find his way back to the light. He still had good in his heart and he did everything in his power to prove it. Even if it was never said onscreen, I really feel like Varian played a big role in giving Rapunzel hope for Cassandra’s salvation, because he proved that it can be done. When Rapunzel wondered if Cassandra would ever be her friend again, there’s Varian, just tagging along with Rapunzel’s errand of the day with a smile on his face and a friendly attitude.

So, because I was feeling inspired by this concept, I wrote a little fic about Rapunzel and Varian’s friendship, and the hope that he gives her, even if he doesn’t realize it. I hope you enjoy! Maybe one of these days I’ll surprise you with some angst but for now I’ll keep on being the Queen of Fluff (thanks Lissa for that nickname lol)

Hope is a Second Chance

Rapunzel was in her room, working on a massive painting that took up a lot of the ceiling and high walls. It basically told the story of her life, from being reunited with her parents, to the defeat of the Saporians, and everything in between. It was a beautiful and detailed painting, but Rapunzel was having a bit of trouble with a part of it. She held her paintbrush and sighed.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” called Eugene from down below. “It looks great to me.”

“Oh, I’m just...I’m struggling with this part of the painting. I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right.”

Eugene looked up and frowned at the part she was working on. It was a portrait of Cassandra, posing with her loyal owl on her arm. In the painting, Cassandra was smiling, but Rapunzel simply frowned as she looked at it.

“It just seems wrong to paint her like this. It’s like, giving me false hope.”

“False hope?” Eugene repeated.

“That she can be saved,” she sighed. “I love Cass, and I want her to be my friend again. But this...this just isn’t who she is anymore. It feels like I’m lying to myself.”

“You’re not giving up, are you?” Eugene asked, surprised. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, Eugene. I’m not giving up. Not yet. But, it’s just hard. I want her to be saved, but sometimes it just feels impossible. She’s so lost.”

“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t even think that ‘impossible’ was in your vocabulary,” said Eugene. He sighed and softened his voice. “Look, Rapunzel. I understand. Sometimes I feel like that too. She betrayed you and she hurt the kingdom with the red rocks. She broke your heart. That’s not something I can easily forgive her for. But if there’s anything I’ve learned after being with you all this time, it’s that you never give up on your friends.”

“I’m not giving up yet,” said Rapunzel. She looked at the painting of Cassandra, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “But having this here is too painful for me right now.” Rapunzel quickly dipped her paintbrush into a pot of pale green paint and swiftly started to paint over the image of Cass until she could no longer see her smiling face. When it was done, there was just a blank spot on the wall where her friend used to be. Rapunzel stared at the nothingness and dropped her paintbrush back into the pot, wiping her teary eyes with her sleeve. She took a handful of her hair and jumped down from the rafters, landing on the floor.

“Um, I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” she said, starting to head for the door.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Eugene asked.

“No. No thank you, Eugene. I think I just need to be alone for a bit and clear my head.”

“Okay,” Eugene said softly. Rapunzel quietly left the room while Eugene stared sadly up at the blank part of the wall and sighed. Out in the castle, Rapunzel wandered aimlessly through the halls, her head full of thoughts.

“Am I just kidding myself?” she wondered. “What if Cassandra never comes back? What if she can’t be helped anymore? What if she’s too lost? I’m so terrified of losing her, but maybe it’s just something I have to accept. Maybe she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. I don’t want to give up on her, but sometimes I feel so lost. I feel like there’s no hope. She could be plotting something terrible for all I know, or maybe I’ll just never see her again. How can I have faith when I don’t even know what she’ll do next and I can’t reach out to her? Where is the hope?”

She continued walking through the castle, feeling more and more lost. She was in such a funk that even the castle servants that passed by took notice of her melancholy attitude and fell silent and crestfallen themselves. The bubbly young princess’ personality was contagious, and so was her sorrow, it seemed. After a while of walking by herself with nothing but the occasional sad squeak of Pascal in her ear and not feeling any better, Rapunzel looked up and saw that she was standing outside the palace kitchens.

“Maybe I could use something sweet to cheer me up,” she thought out loud. She looked at Pascal on her shoulder. “What do you say, buddy? Maybe there’s some of those cupcakes with the pink icing.” Pascal squeaked a reply and Rapunzel pushed open the door of the kitchen and went inside. The air smelled sweet and warm when she went in, and she closed her eyes and tilted her nose up slightly to breathe in the good scents. She could hear a bit of clatter, and opened her eyes to see the source of the noise and saw a familiar face standing over the stove.

“Uh, Varian?”

“Hey, Princess!” came the young, cheerful voice. Varian looked up from the stove where he had something cooking in a pot and pushed his goggles back up into his hair.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She sniffed the air again. “Smells good.”

“I came to the castle today to do some research in the royal library. Thanks for giving me access, by the way,” Varian explained. “I was in there for a while, and I thought ‘nothing goes better with learning how to translate ancient languages on a scroll than hot chocolate’ so I came here to the kitchen to make some.”

Rapunzel managed to crack a tiny half smile in amusement. Varian rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“I know, I know. It’s a bit silly. But I just really love hot chocolate.”

“Hey, no judgement here,” Rapunzel replied, holding up her hands. “I love chocolate. I think it’s probably the best invention in the world. No offense.”

Varian laughed slightly.

“I think I’d be inclined to agree.”

After a moment of slightly awkward silence, Varian spoke up again.

“So, uh, what are you doing here?”

Rapunzel sighed.

“Oh, I was just wandering around. Lost in thought, I guess. I thought I’d come see if there was anything good to eat in here.” She trailed off, looking around the room. Varian frowned. He could tell that something was on Rapunzel’s mind and it was bothering her. He hated seeing Rapunzel look so down. Thinking fast, he looked at the pot of hot chocolate on the stove and quickly poured two mugs of it.

“Hey, uh, you know what? I-I made too much. There’s no way I can drink all this by myself. You want some?” he offered. Rapunzel gave him a small smile and took the warm mug from him, and he gave her a smile in response. He picked up his own mug.

“Well, I’m heading back to the library to do some more research. You can come if you like.”

Rapunzel looked at Pascal as if for approval. He made a “go on” motion with his foot. She looked back up at Varian.

“Okay. Let’s go. You can show me what you’ve been working on.”

Varian beamed at her and led the way. They pushed open the doors of the library and went inside, where Rapunzel saw books and papers scattered all over the place, mostly stacked up on a desk in the corner. Rapunzel stared at all the notes everywhere.

“Wow, you’ve really been busy,” she observed.

“Well, it’s not everyday you get access to the best, most exclusive books in the kingdom. Sure the little library in Old Corona and the one here on the island have good information, but the royal library has the stuff I really need if I want to crack this scroll. I want to make the most of it.”

“You know you can come use it anytime. You don’t have to squeeze all your research into one day.”

“I know that, I’ve just been really busy today,” Varian admitted. “I’ve been learning a lot. I’ve found tons of great information.” His voice got a lot quicker as he started to get more excited. “This library has books on all the languages spoken in the Seven Kingdoms, even ancient ones! It’s really helpful for trying to figure out the text on the scroll. Of course, I’m not there yet. I still have more work to do. But I’ve been in the process of creating a translation key. I think with just a couple more weeks I’ll be able to crack it.”

“That’s great, Varian! You’ve really been working hard! Thank you.”

“I’m just happy to help,” Varian said, sorting through his books.

“So, what else have you been up to?”

“Well,” Varian started, his eyes brightening. “I’ve been reading about the history of Lord Demanitus. That machine in the base of the mountains was just the tip of the iceberg of his genius. He dabbled a lot in alchemy too. Course, a lot of his alchemy practices are outdated by today’s standards, but isn’t that neat? Me, an alchemist setting up shop in the very same chamber he used for his machine to change the direction of the wind. He’s just like me, and learning about him kind of makes me feel like we’re connected, you know?”

Rapunzel watched Varian become increasingly giddy the more he talked about Demanitus. She smiled at the light in his eyes and the excitement in his voice. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the library with Varian. The room was filled with the sounds of their voices talking and laughing as the day wore on. Varian showed Rapunzel all the research he was doing and she helped him by supplying her own knowledge, and even by using her hair to swing up to the top shelves and grabbing the books that Varian couldn’t reach. It was cozy and warm in the library with books and soft lighting and hot chocolate and friendship. Varian’s excitement about learning and being helpful was almost as contagious as her usual optimism, and over time she found herself starting to perk up again. How could she go on focusing on her own troubles when looking at that infectious smile with his big teeth and the light in his pale blue eyes? Varian was totally in his element, talking about the things he was passionate about and answering Rapunzel’s questions readily. She knew she had certainly picked the right person for the job of translating the scroll.

He was more than happy to do it. Happy to be studying his idol, happy to be giving himself a challenge, and happy to just be useful. It meant a lot to be working with the princess after everything that had happened. Sitting there in the library with Rapunzel was a sign of the newfound trust he’d managed to rebuild, and it felt great to be trusted and to be needed. Rapunzel could feel it too, the wonderful warm sensation of trust and friendship that she knew was unwavering between the two. Watching Varian work and feeling the calm and warmth of two friends just spending an afternoon together, Rapunzel suddenly had a realization.

Of course she still had hope for Cassandra. Her friend was far from gone. There was still a chance to save her. Where was the hope? Well, there was the hope. Hope was right in front of her. Right there in the boy who had once been so lost, but was now right there with her. Right there in the blue eyes that once looked icy, filled with anger and sadness, but now were sparkling with life. Right there in the smile that she’d once missed and now come to be so familiar with. Right there in the laughter that was genuine and warm, no longer malicious. Hope existed in every breath of the young boy who stood before her now. And he was all the hope she needed to know that it wasn’t over, and that Cass was going to be okay.

Because Varian had once been lost too, Rapunzel reminded herself. He’d once allowed anger to cloud his heart and set him on a path that had led to darkness. And for a time, she really thought she had lost her friend. But then he found the light again. He didn’t let his heart be completely shrouded in anger. He didn’t let himself be consumed by the despair and rage he’d felt. He came back to the side of goodness. He never truly lost himself. He let his genuinely good heart shine through, and he came back. Rapunzel saw the goodness in him, and she gave him a chance, and she never regretted it. Varian never gave her a reason to. The joy and relief he’d felt when Rapunzel had allowed herself to trust him again was probably the best sensation he’d ever felt in his life, right after how he’d felt when his father came back to him. A second chance. That’s all he needed. And Varian was the proof that second chances were worth it. Varian could be saved, why not Cassandra? As long as Rapunzel had Varian’s smile and his kind heart, she knew she still had hope. She felt happy and warm, and it wasn’t just because of the hot chocolate. Now feeling much happier than before, Rapunzel suddenly got up and threw her arms around Varian in a grateful hug. Surprised by the sudden gesture, Varian stood very still and shocked, tensing up just a little.

“Uh, Rapunzel, what was that for?”

“You’re just...a really good friend, Varian. And I appreciate what all you’ve done for me. Thank you.”

Varian’s shocked and somewhat confused expression morphed into a smile and he hugged Rapunzel back.

“You’re a really good friend too, Rapunzel. Probably the closest one I have, besides Ruddiger of course. And I’m glad to help you.”

After a moment, Rapunzel pulled away and let out a relieved and contented sigh, feeling her troubled emotions from before starting to melt away, replacing the heaviness in her heart with a much lighter feeling.

“Well,” she said after a beat, “I should probably let you get back to work, and I have things to do too. Thanks for the hot chocolate and the nice afternoon.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for the company,” he replied. She nodded a reply and turned to leave. Varian smiled after her, feeling happy that he’d managed to cheer her up. He wasn’t sure what he’d done other than giving her a sweet drink and talking her ear off all afternoon, but he was glad he’d done his part to get her smiling again. As Rapunzel walked back through the castle, her contagious spirit was positive once again, and the people she passed by couldn’t help but wear smiles of their own. Up in her bedroom, Rapunzel stared up at her work in progress painting with newfound inspiration. She climbed up to the rafters with her hair, grabbing her paintbrush and swinging along to a new spot that could use her artistic touch. The blank spot on the wall where Cass had once been stayed vacant. She wasn’t quite ready to fill it in yet. That would have to wait until she could paint Cassandra being genuinely happy. But she wasn’t giving up hope that she would get to paint that spot someday. For now though, Rapunzel focused on a different section of the wall, and used her paintbrush to bring a different friendly face to life. A face dotted with freckles that highlighted his genuine kind smile, and goggles stuck up in the dark hair that had a funny blue streak in it. It was another portrait on the wall, just like all the other pictures of her friends and family that she’d painted into her life story. But for Rapunzel, it was more than just another smiling face. It was a symbol of hope, and a reminder that no one was ever truly lost without a way back. Varian’s heart had softened again, and he’d managed to find his way back, and she knew that Cassandra could too. One day that blank spot on the wall would be filled in. She wasn’t going to give up. And if she ever started to feel discouraged again, Rapunzel knew all she had to do was look up and see hope smiling down on her.

So that’s it! Hopefully you enjoyed. I really love their friendship. It just makes me so happy. They’ve both come so far and I love the way they were able to grow stronger and rebuild their trust. I think it’s meaningful

[sarenhale]

Out of curiosity, do you have any ships for the Silver Snakes? If you do, could you name them and elaborate on why you like them? I love your art style btw it just looks so smooth to me!

I do, IN FACT!!!! I wonder if you mean couples within the silver snakes only (oc x oc) or with fe3h canon characters as well? Well, I’ll write about both and the ideas I have here... brace yourself, It’s gonna be a long ask cause you unleashed my love for couples....

Nicolai and Leon is one of my faves, basically brother in arms that become closer as time passes. Nicolai can’t socialize and deal with people for shit so having someone like Leon that has a very sunny and patient personality around is very comforting. Plus Leon has a lot of energy and will to live, and with time manages to... uh... maybe influence Nicolai with it a little? Or, at least, grab his skinny ass when he’s about to sacrifice himself in battle AGAIN and save him. Nicolai has an ardent desire to die and Leon is just not gonna let him, you know? When war starts Leon promises him he’ll bring him to his village in Dagda to meet his family.... and then when war is over they move there and fuck off forever, living in peace for the rest of their days. Nicolai finally has the opportunity to be who he wants and not have to pass down his crest or being haunted by his family legacy anymore.

Nicolai and Kristjan, they’re both very quiet and not exactly socially adapt, but that’s kind of what they enjoy from eachother, the possibility to just enjoy eachother’s presence without pressure or having to talk/break the silence. Incredibly enough, I think that when confronted with another shy person, Nicolai would be the one to step up and be more protective and supportive. I think that this relationship would bring out the protective / chivalrous side in him..... yeah....... I don’t know I just imagine how quiet, peaceful and swee those times would be 

Nicolai and Bernadetta, reject humanity, return to being social recluse... I feel like they have similar personalities and kinda vibe together well, after of course the trials and tribulations of Bernie trying to escape everytime she sees him because she thinks Nicolai is the spectre of death that was sent to kill her or something. But that just adds to the fun part of it and ridicolousness of the couple edhjfcghjdgfh. Plus Nicolai likes reading edgy poetry and novels so he would be really supportive of Bernie’s books. 

Nicolai and Sylvain... hee hoo you know me, I do enjoy a sprinkle of Sylvain content here and there... basically Sylvain is the only one from Blue Lions that doesn’t hate him after they discovered the Haandrastsz family had a part into killing Dimitri’s father. The Haandrastsz family terriroties were also near the Gautier's, so they knew eachother when they were little. (I cannot escape the childhood friends trope I am sorry) After the war, before rejoining with the other Silver Snakes, Nicolai retires to Sreng (where him and his uncle were exiled to by the Kingdom) and stays there, commanding a small army and gaining the trust/leadership of the local warlords. One time he leads an attack on Gautier territory and Sylvain is like ‘Oh hey Nico- HEY WHAT THE FUCK’  And I don’t know... I just think it’s kinda funny... Also Sylvain is the only one in Blue Lions from the original group of childhood friends that doesn’t really... judge people for who they are, you know (that’s why I love him), so it feels realistic that he wouldn’t think less of Nicolai for what his family did. Knowing the guy, he would probably try to find a peaceful solution to the situation, and even if Nicolai usually doesn’t give a shit about people, he would be like “Yeah okay I GUESS I can try talking to Sylvain instead of just brutally murdering him”. So yeah, the sheer contrast between personalities, and the similar trauma from crests/ families... I just think it makes for a cool combo.

Cassandra and Esther, another one of my fave couples, Esther grew up in poverty in the Empire’s capital and hating nobles for the huge power imbalance in Fòdlan, so seeing Cassandra’s objective to completion is one of the most important things in her life. Despite the big differences in their upbringing, they discovered that they shared a lot of things in common, and felt very comfortable and safe in the company of the other. Cassandra always felt like an outcast even between her family, so she finds Esther’s point of view on life very important and close to her heart. Cassandra loves how much of a free spirit she is, and wants to eventually be free and feel like she’s allowed to be herself, two things she can really experience when she’s with her. Esther’s story is part of why Cassandra feels like she needs to succeed and bring a change to Fòdlan, and made a promise to her that if she ever loses sight of her original dream and becomes yet another swayed ruler, Esther has to kill her  👀  Also, that good old “ruler and their right hand” kind of ship... you know? 

Cassandra and Mithra, another good ruler and their right hand ship... Mithra has trust in Cassandra as a leader and person, and is willing to do anything to help her achieve her dream! I think Mithra is a very silent person that doesn’t share her feelings and emotion easily because she’s always on high guard, expecting an attack from every direction, and focused on her duty almost too much to allow herself to be human and not only a soldier. That why it’s really cute when i think about how she would open up and eventually fall in love... YEAH

Cassandra and Sayid, this is a bit of a ‘what if’ kind of ship because Cassandra is gay, so I see this couple as more of a “platonic soulmates” kind of situation. Sayid and Cassandra’s relationship is one of my favourites because it starts from childhood friends, then changes to rivals, to frenemies, and then grows to trusted friends who will never be able to leave eachother. Cassandra was promised to marry one of Sayid’s older brothers when she was little, so he often jokes about how Sayid lost to his brothers even to that. (”Yes, but I was the one that had the honor to be right next to you” he would probably reply) They are eachother’s most trusted person, and Sayid grows from wanting Cassandra’s spot as leader and thinking she is inadequate to the role to being her most trusted advisor, that wholeheartedly supports her. It’s mostly the growth of the relationship that does it for me.

Mithra and Dedue...OKAY No joke I made Mithra Duscurian also because so Dedue could have a friend from the same country... so they can share Duscur stories and culture. Mithra left Duscur when she was little so she feels like she’s missing a part of her culture, and I just feel like her supports and relationship with him would be an amazing opportunity to both expand more on Duscurian culture and allow both to enjoy their home country and bond over it! And then maybe at the end of the war they can move back to what’s left of Duscur and start to rebuild together. 

Mithra and Felix, this is a bit of weird one, especially because of Felix’s shitty views on Duscur, but I’m mostly looking at the promise for a good character development and how cool an idea of a ‘warrior couple’ is. They start off as sparring partner, Mithra shares Felix’s dedication for battle and training, so they often find eachother at the training grounds until they start to train together. They develop a kind of friendly rivalry over wanting to beat the other, and being the two strongest students at the monastery. Felix gets his ass handed to him a couple of times, and his mental process is ‘holy shit how > fuck you > groagrhaprfgakdfgh > okay but she’s strong, I can learn from her if i continue to fight her’ to eventually respecting her skill and position. Mithra recognizes his strenght and unparalleled ability on the battlefield, but comments on his lack of teamwork and how fighting alone and not following orders is going to get him killed someday. (Being that she’s lived her life in the military, diligence is a very important value- and a way of life to her) Their rivalry/competition translates to keeping the other safe in battle (”you’re not allowed to die before I beat you” kind of deal) and eventually... uh... wow... emotions???

Sayid and Ferdinand, dhsgchdgsh To be honest this is boys being fancy and bisexual... They do share some values and morals, Ferdinand’s view on nobility are akin to Sayid’s, even though Sayid is a bit more like ‘earning what you and your family have’ rather than simply inheriting a role. I do like that they mirror eachother by being a leader’s right hand man, and growing their rivalry into a frienship with them, so I feel like they’d have that in common, and some interesting conversations could spark from that! Plus yeah have I mentioned fancy bisexual boys...

Leon and Hilda, okay this one too is like... nothing too deep stort wise, I just feel that they’d be such a cute good couple?? Mostly because of how they both have sunny personalities and how Leon would indulge Hilda and protect her... and they also give me some big domestic vibes?

Esther and Annette is just... listen... I don’t know exactly why I can see the two of them so well together, I just think their personalities would align really well and would lead up to some really cute support conversations and eventually relationship...

Kristjan and Linhardt is an interesting couple because while I think they have similar interests on magic/ crest studies, they have very opposite personalities. I like that Lin is very blunt and unapologetic about his interests and peculiar way of life, while Kristjan feels like even his presence is a bother and something he needs to apologize about. I think they could bond over their shared interests (you know Lin wouldn’t resist to analyze the peculiar crest situation Kristjan has going on) but also count as interesting opposites to eachother. Lin would definitely be a positive influence over how insecure Kristjan is, and have a role in him accepting himself. Also.... cute nerdy boyfriends who love to read and study together??? Yeah...

Kristjan and Lysithea another cute couple, but this time based on how interesting it would be to see them interact and talk about their similar stories with crest experiments. I feel like they would both benefit from being able to talk honestly about the trauma and experience of it all. And I also like that two individuals that feel like their life is not in their hands anymore- CAN grow and create their own life together.

Kristjan and Olympia is... one of the first couples I thought about back when I created the silver snakes! I really like how they’re polar opposites (again) and how well they mesh together. One of the consequences of the experiments done on Kristjan is that he can channel the power of his crest stone to enhance his abilities, and eventually, also to get really physically strong for a short moment of time. I imagined that it would be really cool and unexpected if the one person that managed to beat Olympia in a duel is in fact not even someone who’s an expert with physical combat! Olympia  is a very romantic and affectionate person, and I just really like the idea of Kristjan being showered with the love he deserves. (Plus I love the ship dynamic of mage/studious male character with strong/warrior female character a lot AHAH)

Olympia and Lorenz are... there to be fancy, cute and gorgeous together?? Despite some parts of his ideologies (that luckily he works and grows on), Lorenz’s ‘romantic’ idea of chivalry is very fascinating at the eyes of Olympia, and he kind of represents the idea of the ‘knight in shining (purple with roses) armor’ that she always looked for! They also both love fashion, art, drinking tea and little things like that... and I, AGAIN, love the idea of a couple where the woman is the strongest in the relationship dhgchjdsgcdsh There’s something really cute and powerful about her living her romantic fantasy with someone.

Olympia and Dorothea... JUST GALS BEING PALS... or not. They’re bisexuals together. I think they’d start to bond over Olympia’s idea of romance and research for someone that could beat her in a duel/ win her heart, and eventually really come close due to their experiences in dating/ finding out what they really want from love and relationship. And then they find that together!!!

I think you could sum up the types of couples I like with ‘similar personalities’ and ‘complete opposites’ AHAHAH It’s something that intrigues me with people in real life too! I discovered I tend to feel as fascinated by people that are similar to me, as much as people who are really different from me. This was a LOOONG response, but I loved to think about these couples and write down their dynamics! I hope you’re ready for a very detailed and long response! Thanks again for the compliments on my art and for asking about my babies <3

[jacklyn-flynn]

It’s finally here! The new chapter of Space Trash! You can find the full chapter here on AO3!

It’s a little on the long side, but hopefully worth it. Also, smut next chapter 😉

Jules and the crew heads to Redcliffe to finalize the alliance with the rebel mages but things go, per usual, spectacularly wrong. 

Jules couldn’t help but notice the occasional, curious gaze from the elf behind the bar in the Officer’s Club. It wasn’t necessarily intrusive but since they were the only ones in the room, it was hard not to notice. Jasoom was lounging lazily across her shoulders, his tail occasionally flicking across her cheek. His very presence was soothing and helped her not feel anxious about being the center of someone’s attention.

The woman busied herself behind the bar and then walked, or rather sauntered, over to Jules with a drink in her hand. She was rather unlike any of the other elves that Jules had met. Her hourglass figure was a sharp contrast to her usually tall, lithe brethren. Black pants molded to her legs, rising high on her wide hips and accenting her slim waist. Jules wondered if she knew that she had a wide rip across her right knee. She wore a navy blue flannel shirt with thick black lines that was mostly unbuttoned, showing a black shirt beneath with a lacy neckline. 

Her hair was dark green and perfectly straight, falling to the small of her back. It swung from side to side slightly when she walked. Silver rings adorned the tips of her ears, which was common, but the decorations in her lobes were completely foreign to Jules. There were wide circles through the lobes that she could see through, beyond the light mandala pattern that capped the front. 

She had a cute button nose under upturned eyes that were framed in dark liner with flicks at the corners. If it wasn’t for the friendly smile on her black-painted lips, she would have looked suspicious of Jules. 

“Can I sit?” Her voice was low for a woman but in a melodic way that harmonized well with her attire’s inclination toward black. 

“Please, help yourself.” Jules couldn’t help but smile back at the elf. 

“My name is Elbereth. Or El.” She slid gracefully into the seat and set the drink she’d prepared in front of Jules. “On the house for the lost Trevelyan.” 

“Oh, thank you. I appreciate it but I don’t drink.” Jules said with a gentle smile. 

“I know. You can’t get drunk. That’s what makes you a bartender’s best friend. I can get you to try all of my best experiments and get an unbiased opinion, “ Elbereth said cheerfully. 

Jules’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I suppose that would make me quite the useful asset.”

El’s laugh was low and musical. “You aren’t a tool, dear. First of all, you can say no. Second of all, I’d like to give you companionship in return. Ya know, be friends.” 

Feeling a blush on her cheeks, Jules covered it by lifting the glass to examine the drink. It was in a small, square glass with very distinct layers. The bottom was a rich reddish-brown color. The next layer was more of a warm amber while the third was more of a bright gold. On the top was a very thin layer of something creamy. The entire thing smelled of hazelnuts and was vaguely woody and spicy. 

“All at once?” Jules asked, looking through her lashes at the elf who nodded, her smile broadening. With more hesitation then El was used to seeing when people drank shots, Jules brought the glass to her lips and drank it slowly. She was pleased to see Jules take some time to evaluate the flavor before swallowing the concoction. 

“That’s-that’s actually really good,” Jules said after a moment of contemplation. Her smile widened slightly. “I don’t get them often, but I’m quite fond of hazelnuts.” 

“I have some chocolate that you’ll love then.” El laughed, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll bring it with me on my next shift so that you can try some.” 

“I’m afraid I won’t be back for a while. We’ll be arriving at Redcliffe soon to meet with the leader of the rebel mages. She wants to talk more before she agrees to ally herself with the Inquisition.” Jules’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone just wants to talk. It’s exhausting, saying the same thing a dozen different ways. They make it so difficult and I don’t understand why. It should be easy.” 

El nodded sympathetically. “Politics require a unique form of communication. It’s one that not even the people who speak it fully understand. Honestly, I don’t know if you’ll ever get the hang of it.” 

Jules frowned and looked up at the elf again. “You don’t think so?” She sounded disappointed. 

“No, but that isn’t a bad thing.” Elbereth sat up again, leaning toward Jules. “Sometimes they get so lost in the talking they forget what they’re supposed to be working toward. A new voice is a disruption and sometimes disruption is what you need to break the cycle and get results. You aren’t a politician or diplomat, but that’s a good thing, Jules.”

  “I don’t even understand why they want me there. I’m just a Flea.” Jules reached up to scratch Jasoom’s head when he pushed it against her cheek. 

“You aren’t ‘just’ anything.” El gave her a smile. “You are a marvel, and we’ve only begun to see what you’re capable of.” 

()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()o()

Jules adjusted the belt of the holster that carried Zevran’s, or rather her, blades. The harness wrapped around her waist and then around each thigh, keeping the short blades tight against her legs, moving as she did. She smiled at her teacher as he disappeared into the transport with Cassandra. Cullen's smile was the one that caught her attention though. He reached out to her and she grasped his hand, letting him pull her closer to him. 

“I’ve seen how far you’ve come. You’re fast and lethal. But-” he hesitated, brows furrowed, “-I feel like I should tell you that it will be completely different when you’re in a real battle. It’s loud and it’s bloody and it’s scary.” Squeezing her hand, he brushed his fingers down her cheek. “Don’t lose your head. Breathe, stay calm, and stay close to everyone else. Most of all, be careful. I want you-I need you-to come back.” 

“I’ll be surrounded by very dangerous people. I promise I’ll be careful and that I’ll come back. Besides, we’re just going to talk.” She pointed out.

“I hope so.” He didn’t want to scare her any more than he probably already had. She was right. Jules would be in very good company. “Could I kiss you goodbye?” 

Immediately, Jules felt a flush spread on her cheeks. They had talked about their spontaneous kiss in the hallway. She’d been so relieved that she hadn’t driven him away. Jules had surprised herself with her impulsive gesture. They’d both agreed to take it slowly. Her to adjust to the feeling of attraction she’d never felt before, and him to ensure he didn’t take advantage of that. Other than that talk, it hadn’t been brought up again. Until now. 

“I would like that.” Her admission came with a hesitant smile. The confidence in his smile, however, made her shiver though she didn’t exactly know why. He bent his head, closing his eyes as he drew near. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his. He was so warm and so inviting. She could do this all day long. She let out a hum of disappointment when he pulled away, her lips chasing his for a moment. “Will I get another one when I come back?” 

He laughed, sending warmth through her. Maker, he was gorgeous when he laughed. “Absolutely.” He walked her to the shuttle door, squeezing her hand before he released her. “Be safe.” 

With a nod, she turned away and mounted the ramp. Heading to the front, she rested her hand on the back of the pilot’s chair. “Cassandra, I-” With a start, she took a step back. “You aren’t Cassandra.” 

“Nope!” A pale silver-skinned Qunari woman grinned up at her. “Sure aren’t!” Small spiral horns peaked out of her mauve hair, their color a blend of her hair and skin. She wore black and grey leather pants and jacket, the Inquisition logo stitched on the breast. “Catch!” 

Jules’s hand shot up to catch the object that was thrown at her face. “Nice reflexes!” The woman complimented as Jules opened her hand to see what it was. It was a small dracolisk figure. The protruding horns and spikes were replaced with shiny little jewels. Even bejeweled, they were truly ugly creatures. When she handed it back, the Qunari set it on the console in front of her, affectionately turning it just so. “Thanks. My name is Sonja Trygvassen. Most people just call me Tryg.” 

Cassandra moved past Jules to take the co-pilot’s seat. “Ms. Trygvassen is a pilot that I’ve worked with extensively in the past. She’s quite good.” The Seeker was reserved with her compliments so Jules knew she meant it. “Since I am needed elsewhere, I thought she would be an adequate replacement.” 

“Adequate? I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me, Cassie.” Tryg grinned. Jules saw Cassandra’s jaw clench at the nickname. She got the distinct impression that no one else was allowed to call her “Cassie.” Perhaps not even Tryg.

“Did you need something from me?” Cassandra asked, clearly hoping she wouldn’t ask about the nickname.

“I-um-I don’t remember,” Jules admitted. “I’ll just go take my seat. It was nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Tryg gave her a nod and then turned back to her console. 

Shaken by the odd encounter, she returned to the back of the shuttle, taking a seat between Morgan and Zevran. Varric sat across from them, his precious Bianca cradled in his lap. His head was resting against the back of the seat and his eyes were closed. “Are you okay, Varric?” 

He didn’t even open his eyes when he responded. “Oh yeah, Precious. I’m just peachy. Nothing like hurtling through space into an atmosphere that sets you on fire in a tin can propelled by highly flammable fuel. What could possibly go wrong?”

Jules frowned and looked at Morgan, unsure by Varric’s reply if he was okay or not. “He’s being sarcastic. He’s scared of flying.” Morgan translated with a chuckle. 

“I’m not scared of flying,” Varric said indignantly, “I’m afraid of crashing.” 

The hydraulics of the shuttle door whirred as it closed. The solid thunk of the locks engaging was reassuring. To Jules at least. Varric looked like he was walking to the gallows. When the shuttle left the Herald’s dock, she noticed his knuckles turn white as he gripped Bianca. Jules couldn’t imagine being afraid of flying. “Is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly. 

“Only if we do not die.” Zevran's laugh always made her smile. 

“In other words, yes, he’ll be okay.” Morgan joined in the laughter. Varric made a mocking face, silently mimicking them and making it clear what he thought of their ribbing. “Let me know if you need someone to hold your hair for you.”

“Stow it, Beefcake.” The dwarf grumbled.

[thebookomens]

Reaction to Ghost of The Shadow Market by Cassandra Clare

At first, I wasn’t too excited to read Ghosts of the Shadow Market, which is why it took me so long to read it. I just couldn’t bring myself to read it. But I was surprised, although not all the stories marked my attention the majority of them did. No going to lie Cecil Montclaire I was not excited to read about, but I stan now.

Cast Long Shadow:

●      I had liked Matthew from the first time we meet him in Nothing but Shadows and I had heard the rumour that he was Gideon’s bastard, which in my mind the only way that happened is if both Henry and Charlotte knew they wouldn’t be able to have more children and were willing to try other ways. I did not, however, envision that he would go that far to have answers.

●      I loooooooooove Jem.

o   I was so happy to see him being protective of his friends’ children.

●      Matthew, unlike our other heroes, is extremely naïve when it comes to the hate downworlders have towards Nephilim or at least that is the impression I got. Especially for the time, he lives in, which is still only about a decade after the Accords are put in place. It kills me though to have seen his innocence killed the way it was, trusting the wrong faerie.

o   Also, that old fairy can take her potion and drink it. I did not, however, realize how important she was. Which is what I love in the end about this book, how the plot in every story is linked.

Every Exquisite Thing:

●      This was definitely the hardest one for me to read, maybe because the character of Anna that we were being given was so different from what we knew about her. She had none of the confidence and swagger we had heard or seen before.

●      However, I loved Cecily and Gabriel in this one, maybe more than I ever had. Mostly because we get to see them as adults and how supportive they are of their children: Christopher likes to blow stuff up? let’s help him, as long as it’s not our house he blows up; our daughter is a lesbian who wants to look good in pants Gabriel and Cecily argue over what colour of pants would look better on her.

o   Although I liked Ariadne, and can understand her point of view, I am happy that Anna refuses to hide who she is and simply marry a man that will try and understand her.

●      I can’t help but wonder however what happened to these Lightwoods, rebellious and accepting to turn them into Robert Lightwood and his parents.

●      Now about the bigger plot, it did intrigue me that we at this point know more than Jem about what he is looking for, but still know very little in actuality. We don’t know much about Kit’s mother or his ancestor.

●      Overall, this one had very little to do with the First Heir storyline and we instead find Jem chasing Tessa’s mysterious father, which probably means said demonic father will be important to the Last Hour storyline. But this is just a guess.

Learn about Loss:

●      I think the title has a bit to do with the fact we find out about the lost Herondale and the first Heir that were, at that time using, the last name Loss.

o   Might also have to do with Jem coming to terms with Will’s imminent death.

●      Looooooved Sister Emilia and I hope we see her again, maybe her meeting Jem with Tessa and little Mia and Kit. But I just want to see how badass she became.

●      I hate that Will is close to death and Jem can’t be with him like he wants, although I knew he would eventually die, I am firmly staying in denial.

●      That last scene of them together was beautiful though.

●      Overall, this is when we are really introduced to The First Heir plot before Jem was chasing for Tessa’s father, but now he starts looking for the lost Herondales. This one and Deeper love is kind of an ending the the ID and LH Crew.

A Deeper Love

●      Jem and Tessa!!!!!! Together!!!!!

o   But also mourning Will which makes me sad.

●      This story is maybe a couple of years after Will’s death, Tessa is trying to move on, but can’t stay in London and watch the rest of her family die, so she enlists.

●      Tessa and Catarina getting to have a friendship and help people at the same time is awesome.

●      Jem is reckless and gets hurt, but then we get to see him and Tessa, so it is worth it.

●      Jem knowing, he can’t be with Tessa right now is heartbreaking, but true.

●      Jem and Tessa find out the story about the Lost Herondales from Catarina.

●      Overall, I am going, to be honest, this one I did not really like, maybe because it is just after Will’s death, I don’t really know why. But it is kind of a transition from Will and Tessa as a couple to Jem and Tessa.

The Wicked Ones:

●      First Off, this is the first one where we read about Jem not understanding feelings or remembering them and it gutted me.

●      Meeting Céline was beautiful. I had never had a good opinion of her before and finally getting inside her head was worth it. I apologize for never giving her a second thought before, she is such a strong and sad person who deserved the world, who deserved finding someone who would have loved her, and I saw some of Jace in her. Their absolute love and bad sense of morals, their weakness for a place to belong and their empathy towards downwolders.

o   Good riddance with her parents.

●      The way Valentine manipulated her and used her is sickening. Far more than with any of the others.

●      Stephen Herondale how are you a descendant of Will and James??????!!??!?!?!?!?

●      Meeting Rosemary was… enlightening. She loved fiercely, her distrust of shadowhunters is understandable.

o   She is definitely not someone I would want to cross.      

●      Overall, I loved this one, more than the ones before. Meeting Céline and Rosemary, two women willing to do evil for their love is a beautiful parallel. Two strong women who were almost saved, but eventually chose love over anything. It is even more heartbreaking by Jem trying to remember the feeling because he had it once.

Son of the Dawn:

●      This is really the story where we only see Brother Zachariah at the beginning, until the institute where we finally see Jem surface. We really get to see how being a silent brother is killing Jem.

●      Raphael and Lily are awesome and deserved better.

o   I didn’t realize how much I miss Raphael and him refusing to admit to having friendships.

o   I wish I had Lily Chen’s ability to come up with nicknames, which is a superpower.

●      Yin fen…. How is that shit still around??? Why hasn’t someone destroyed it???? You have to have no morals to sell that shit.

●      Baby Lightwoods!!!!!!!!!

o   The fact 12-year-old Alec had a crush on Raphael is awesome.

o   Baby Max is adorable and so beautiful

o   Little Isabelle is as fierce as her older self.

o   Tiny Jace deciding on his parabatai the moment he saw him makes me happy.

●      I love the fact that Jace was able to remind Jem of Will and Tessa, bring him back from the emotionless state of the Silent Brothers.

●      Suddenly my dislike of Robert and Maryse returned. The way they spoke to Raphael is disgusting.

●      Overall the story is not that important to the plot of the First Heir and Kit, but it does give us an insight into Jem having to fight to remain human and remember why he became a Silent Brother, to in the end be saved. We also get to see the old crew (minus Simon, Clary, and Magnus) as they were still innocent children.

The Land I Lost:

●      I loved this story, mostly because we get the Lightwood-Banes, and Alec being the badass he is.

●      Lily Chen is a hilarious and beautiful person and I sooooo wish we had seen more of her during the Mortal Instruments and can’t wait to see more of her in Wicked Power and The Eldest Curse.

o   Alec and Lily’s friendship is wholesome and deserves more pages honestly.

o   Alec understanding, he has privileges and using it was awesome.

o   The fact that Lily totally knew Alec once has a crush on Raphael.

o   I think that almost every downwolder has one Nephilim that makes them see Shadowhunters in a different light. For Magnus there was Will, Tessa had the London Institute, Kieran had Cristina, Gwyn had Diana, and Lily has Alec (and kind of Cordelia Carstairs).

●      Feral Rafael!!!!!!!

●      The fact Alec did not realize he had adopted Rafael warms my heart

●      Max being soooooo happy to have a sibling filled my heart.

●      Magnus having his moment with Rafael where he just knew, the same way Alec did with Max.

o   I do like the parallel with both.

●      We finally learn about the old Faerie that gave Matthew the potion that hurts his mother and let me tell you: she can cram her Herondale-anger down her throat and choke on it.

●      Jem and Tessa!!!!!! Finally, happy!!!!!!

●      Juliette is a queen and not just of the Shadow Market.

●      I really love how the storylines and the books are converging more and more. With Juliette and her daughter from the Eldest Curse, Mother Hawthorn and Kit’s storyline.

●      Overall, I loved this story not only because we had Alec and Jem with Tessa, but mostly because we get to really see Alec as the man that would move heaven and hell to make the world a better place for his family.

Through Blood, Through Fire:

●      This one was not that interesting other than for the details we got about Rosemary since it centers on a story that we already know the ending too. We simply get the final details of Kit’s background.

●      As a character I loved Rosemary, someone who would do anything to be free and at the same time would lock herself up for her son. If only Johnny/Jack could have loved his son as much.

●      Getting Rosemary’s backstory does let us understand her distrust of shadowhunters and how much she loved Johnny/Jack.

●      Overall, we finally get the last bits of detail of the First Heir storyline.

The Lost World:

●      Baby Mia.

o   I really just want to talk about baby Mia, but other than her almost getting possessed, she is not really the focus of this novel.

●      Livy, I fear will become a problem in the future, I feel like she might lose control at some important moment, but that just might be me being negative.

●      I really want to know what the Dimmet Tarn is and what it can do.

o   I can’t help but think it’s some kind of passage to the afterlife and that’s why Livy is going towards it.

●      I already love Irene and can’t wait to see more of her in the future. The fact that she can feel ghosts and other creatures will be useful.

●      Poor Ty, I feel like he is trying really hard to punish himself and he can’t understand the emotions he is feeling, so he is just assuming he did something wrong.

●      Idris News: I honestly thought that locking themselves up in Idris was the stupidest thing the Cohort had ever done. They can’t hunt demons; they can’t get imports of food and they are totally cut off from the world. How exactly are they going to survive??? The fact they actually have a plan and want to wreak havoc makes sense, but I feel like they are still outnumbered and outgunned.  

●      Good to see Magnus being the most adult adult.

●      Overall, I liked this one, didn’t love it, but it was nice to see the characters. I feel like some points here will be important in Wicked Powers, like the Idris’ News and Dimmet Tarn. Also, Mia.

Forever Fallen:

●      Probably the one I was the most excited about reading other than the Land I Lost.

●      I love the idea of Thule and the characters having to be brought into the canon universe to fight Janus.

o   I can’t wait to see Thule Simon. I mean this is a Simon who has pretty much lost everything and is trying to kill someone who could have once been his friend.

●      The fact we got to see a day in the park for the Lightwood-Banes was probably my favourite part.

●      I got scared when Max was talking to Janus.

●      I feel like Lily Chen and her deal with Janus is going to end horribly, I want to think she is smarter than that, she was taught by Raphael after all, but love makes idiots of us all. So, there might be a plan there, but I am not sure.

●      The way Janus thinks reminded me of when the group was shown their deepest desires but twisted when they went to Eden. He lost everything and more than anything wants to protect those he considers family but isn't capable of understanding emotions anymore or morals.

●      The Carstairs-Gray household is wholesome and loving and I adore them.

o   The fact Kit finally has parents that love and support him.

o   I love how much Jem and Tessa consider Kit their son.

o   Mia and Kit!!!!!!!!!!!!

●      However, I do feel like the ending was ominous towards the fact the Kit will eventually have to become or do something because of being the descendant of the first heir. They said he wasn’t an heir technically, but he did throw the Riders across a field in QOAAD, therefore I think he has more power then they imagine but it's locked inside of him.

●      Overall, I loved it, it leaves us wanting more of the MI and AD crew, for which we will have to wait and foreshadow that the First Heir storyline will be important to Wicked Powers. I love the way it ties the plot of the entire book, which was finding and protecting the First Heir into Jem and Tessa finally getting their happy ending with their two beautiful children.

Overall:

I love pretty much anything Cassandra Clare writes especially in the Shadowhunter world. I would recommend this book, mostly because it ties into the storyline we will be reading in Wicked Powers and gives us an insight into Matthew and Anna, as well as the fact that Tessa’s demonic father will be important.

It is a nice between while we read The Last Hour series and wait for the Wicked Powers.

In cases like this series you pretty much have to read all the books, because sometimes there are small details that are important to the whole storyline in every book and novel, however, individually I would recommend:

●      The Wicked Ones:

●      The Land I Lost

●      Forever Fallen.

For the Last Hour Storyline:

●      Cast Long Shadows

●      Every Exquisite Thing

For the First Heir Storyline (The reason I separate this one from Wicked Powers is that it doesn’t foreshadow anything about the storyline it just explains the First Heir, but the First Heir will probably be important to the Wicked Powers Storyline):

●      Learn about Loss

●      A Deeper Love

●      Wicked One

●      The Land I lost

●      Through Blood, Through Fire

The Wicked Powers Storyline:

●      The Lost World

●      Forever Fallen

[ghostbustermelanieking]

au where scully is reassigned from the x files but mulder isn't?

1. Shortly after the incident in Antarctica, Mulder and Scully get the news that the X-Files have been reopened. They both apply for reassignment immediately. “This is it, Scully,” he tells her that night at her place, sitting on her couch. “We testify to OPR about what we know, and we’ll get the Files back in no time. We’re finally close to finding the truth.”

She shakes her head with an eye roll and a small smile, frostbite still visible on her cheeks. She tells him she hopes so, patting his knee absently.

But it doesn’t happen the way that they’re hoping. Of course it doesn’t. The next morning, they go in and they are given the news that only Mulder has been reassigned to the X-Files. Mulder and Diana Fowley. Scully is meant to stay under Kersh.

Mulder is furious, initially, ranting angrily to Scully on the bench on the hall, not caring who hears him. They’re splitting us up again, Scully, they’re trying to weaken us. Scully is surprisingly quiet, her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth set in a hard line. He remembers, involuntarily, a few weeks ago when he told her to go be a doctor and she told him that she wouldn’t quit. Now it feels as if their positions are reversed again. Except the decisions have been made for them.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what was supposed to happen. If this is his way of saving Scully, by moving on without her. He wonders if he needs to let her go or if that’s the worst possible thing he could do.

He says instead, “This isn’t the end, Scully, I’m not going to let them do this to us. This isn’t over yet.”

She purses her lips and nods, but she doesn’t say anything. He gets the sense that she doesn’t quite agree.

2. It should be the end, Scully thinks. This whole thing, everything that happened after Dallas, it should be a sign. Mulder’s ex-partner and ex-girlfriend has come back, has taken her rightful place on the Files, and Mulder never tried to kiss her again. She feels out of place here, like she is intruding. She doesn’t want it to end—god, she doesn’t want it to end—but she doesn’t know how else it can go, now. Mulder has a new partner, a partner that believes him, and she can move on with her career. She hates even acknowledging these prospects, but it seems to be the situation.

But Mulder won’t let things go. After everything, she probably should’ve expected him not to let things go, but she really thought he would. But he keeps making excuses. Keeps calling her on the Bureau phones and distracting her, asking her to lunch (she starts declining when Diana begins to accompany them, even though Mulder’s face falls every time she does), asking her for opinions on files. (“This is what Diana thinks, Scully, but what do you think?”) He asks her to movies or over to the Gunmen’s for poker night, and the Gunmen make faces whenever he mentions Diana’s name, and she feels a rush of gratitude. On a case in Nevada, Mulder is abducted by a man ordering him to drive west, and Scully follows the story the the news, white-knuckling her coffee mugs and ignoring orders to work, calling Fowley and snapping directions at her over the phone. As soon as Mulder’s safe, she calls him and listens to him tell the story over the phone, his words muted, on the verge of tears. She harbors a quiet fury for Diana’s apparent helplessness, refusal to do anything but send state police after Mulder. She wishes she had been there.

In November, Mulder goes rogue. Apparently he’d gone into the Bermuda Triangle in search of a ghost ship with the assistance of the Gunmen rather than Diana. The Gunmen lose him. Scully pursues the information through the halls of the Bureau. She goes down into the X-Files office and finds it empty; no sign of Diana. The smoker calls down to the office looking for Fowley, telling Scully about the information she’s given to Kersh, but midway through, he realizes that he isn’t talking to Diana, and Scully immediately hangs up. It’s the kind of thing she’s been suspicious of since the summer, but she has no time to pursue it. Skinner gets her the info, and she and the Gunmen race off and fish Mulder out of the ocean. Sitting on the deck of their boat, Mulder stretched out on his back breathing raspily and Scully holding his wet hand in hers, she wonders why Diana didn’t come for him.

In the hospital, he speaks of Nazis and The Wizard of Oz and tells her she saved the world. She looks down on him affectionately and starts to leave so he can rest, but he calls her back. “Hey, Scully?” he calls.

She goes back to the bed and leans close, replying, “Yes?” in a half-serious, half-indulgent voice.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, just looks at her, his eyes dopey with the painkillers. And then he says it, as serious as she’s ever heard him: “I love you.”

Her heart leaps on instinct, with excitement, before she tamps it down. He’s high as a kite, she reminds herself. He’s out of it, and he has a partner. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. “Oh, brother,” she says, rolling her eyes.

She turns to leave the room again and nearly runs into Diana, a look of panic that she can’t tell whether or not is staged on her face. “Oh my god, Fox,” she says, and Scully can’t stop the grimace moving across her face. She keeps moving, her eyes half-shut.

“Hi, Diana,” she hears Mulder say, sounding a little dismayed. She looks back, in the doorway, in time to see Diana sit on the edge of the bed and Mulder touch the blooming bruise on his cheek, not really looking at her. He looks at Scully instead, something like pleading in his eyes.

She looks away. She leaves the room and pretends that regret isn’t twisting in the pit of her chest. Tomorrow, she tells herself, he’ll have come to his sense.

3. On Christmas Eve, he calls her out to a haunted house. He tells her a ghost story full of tragic, star-crossed love, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes, and it feels just like old times until she says, “Shouldn’t you be bothering your partner with this, Mulder?”

He thinks, You’re my partner, automatically, and even after months of working with Diana, it still feels true. He still misses her. He doesn’t know how to be around Diana, as much as part of him wants things to be the way they were before she left; part of him wants to investigate with Diana and Scully, but the rest of him knows that it is a bad idea. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to handle things here, but mostly, he just knows that he misses Scully. That he wants to work with Scully.

The truth is that Diana couldn’t come even if he wanted her to, because she’s spending Christmas with her father and sisters in Connecticut. “I haven’t seen them since I moved to Europe,” she’d said the other day, and Mulder had thought that was strange because Diana had stayed protective over her father after her mother’s death, on into adulthood. But strange or not, she is in Connecticut. He doesn’t tell Scully that, though, because it doesn’t matter. He’d want her here whether Diana was in town or not. He says instead, “You are my partner, Scully. I don’t care what the FBI says.”

His chest lifts when he sees the corners of her mouth lift in a small smile. She spends Christmas Eve ghost-hunting with him, and gives him a present that he didn’t expect in the early hours of the morning even though they hadn’t discussed presents at all this year.

4. In early January, they send Scully to New York for a case alongside a green, brown-nosing young agent. Kersh indicates that this case may be a chance for her to improve upon her career, and though a part of her feels a loyal pang towards Mulder and the Files at that, the part of her that is filled with rage every time she goes to the basement to meet Mulder and sees the new nameplate—Agent Diana Fowley—on the door hopes that this will be a new chance for her.

That silly, stupid, traitorous hope is squashed after a little while on the case. She realizes that this is an X-File. She denies it at first—Mulder gets ahold of the file somehow, and calls her at the airport, teasing her about how he should be investigating this case along with her—but it becomes more and more undeniable as she keeps digging. Mulder does some digging for her, too, keeps taking her calls. At one point, she asks, “Don’t you and Agent Fowley have a case?” and he simply says, “No.”

He calls her while she is alone with the suspect, Fellig, and she asks him to do some more research for her. Within the next hour, she is sprawled on the floor of Fellig’s apartment, a bullet through her gut. She thinks of a lot of things as Fellig instructs her to close her eyes, as Ritter calls an ambulance. She wonders if anyone will tell Mulder.

—

Later, when she wakes up in the hospital, Mulder is there, sitting at her bedside in a chair. She shouldn’t be so surprised to see him, but she is.

His eyes light up when he sees her, and he seizes one hand in both of his, holding it gently. “Scully,” he whispers, his voice soft and tender; he leans down to press his cheek to her pale knuckles.

“Mulder?” she rasps, still in disbelief. “You came?” She wants to ask, What about the X-Files?—really wants to ask, What about Agent Fowley?—but every word hurts.

His eyes are teary. “Course I did,” he murmurs, and he leans in to kiss her forehead. Her eyes slip close, exhausted and in pain and somehow contented, despite it all.

5. Cassandra Spender reappears, asking for Mulder. Scully gets wind of it by whispers across the bullpen, by passing Jeffrey Spender’s desk on the way to the lunch cart. She convinces Mulder to do it; she feels out of place, considering she’s not his partner anymore, but after nearly a month cozied up on her couch with him watching old movies and eating takeout he’d brought her, she feels more comfortable with him. And anyways, she’s as involved in this conspiracy as he is, had as much reason to see the truth brought to light. She urges him to do it on the basis of answers about her own abduction, and he agrees. She notices that Diana is gone; he tells her that she’s gone to visit her sister in Oklahoma and he can’t get in touch with her.

Cassandra Spender tells them stories of alien colonization and of her own husband’s involvement in it. Mulder invites her down to the X-Files office to do research on the Spenders, though Scully protests that they don’t want them working together. (She’d had to stop making calls to Mulder at the office, stop having lunch with him, at Kersh’s insistence. It almost harkens back to their first separation in 1994; Scully’s almost surprised they’re still hanging out outside of work, instead of being reduced to signals and dark parking garage meetings like before.) As she predicts, they’re quickly caught and she’s threatened with dismissal. Jeffrey Spender claims it’s by request of Agent Fowley, and Scully’s face grows red with anger. She can’t look Mulder in the eye.

Mulder protests that this is ridiculous, that Diana would never, and he’s immediately cut off. Apparently, they’ve gotten tired of the trouble Mulder and Scully have gotten into together. They’re reconsidering Mulder’s position on the Files and within the FBI as well.

It’s revenge, Scully knows, for talking to Agent Spender’s mother, but pointing that out would do no good. They’re both sent home.

Scully knows she should probably just leave things alone, but something inside her doesn’t want to let things go. She knows that Fowley is involved with the men who have done these things to them; she’s suspected it for a long time. So she keeps digging. She shares her research with Mulder, and they pass it on to Skinner. She stays at Mulder’s apartment probably longer than she should, drinking a beer he found at the back of his fridge and trying to figure out whether or not, now that she’s shared her suspicions about CGB Spender, she should share her suspicions about Fowley, when Cassandra bursts in. She wants Mulder to kill her, and for a long moment, Scully is afraid he will. And then, before she knows it, the CDC is bursting in to force them into quarantine. Diana Fowley, fresh back from Oklahoma (or, as Scully suspects, somewhere that is notably not Oklahoma), is on their tails, with an excess of lies that Mulder believes. She lies from Mulder’s apartment to the military base that they’re taken to, and Mulder never stops to question it. He actually seems fucking disappointed in Scully for questioning Diana. And that is the moment when Scully is finished trying to protect his feelings in this whole situation. It’s been obvious to her for months; now she needs to prove it to him.

—

Scully goes to the Gunmen. She’d desperate at this point. She may not be Mulder’s partner anymore, but she is still his friend, and she is not going to let a woman who is likely consorting with the men who abducted and assaulted her continue to manipulate him. They find information that proves every suspicion she’s ever had.

But Mulder doesn’t want to hear it. She tries to make him understand. She gives him evidence of Fowley’s activity in Europe. She points out the convenience of Fowley’s sudden reappearance, of their being partnered on the X-Files. She points out all the convenient times that Diana has been missing, that she has provided little to no help in maintaining the Files. That she is basically sabotaging him from the inside. And Mulder won’t hear it. He scoffs, he waves off their defenses. He says that Scully has given him no reason not to trust Diana, and something in her just snaps. She says, “Well, then I can’t help you anymore.”

“Scully, you’re making this personal,” he says, and every word feels like a slap across the face.

Seething with rage, she says evenly, “Because it is personal, Mulder. Because without the FBI, without the X-Files, personal interest is all that I have. And if you take that away then there is no reason for me to continue.”

She turns and walks away, her heels clacking on the floorboards. For a second, she thinks: This is it. This is when he’s finally going to let me go. And then he catches up to her. He catches her shoulder gently, saying, “Scully, wait.”

She turns on him hard. “Wait for what, Mulder?” she snaps. “We’re not partners anymore.” He flinches immediately, but she doesn’t care; this is the way she’s been feeling since her reassignment. She says, “You want to keep this impersonal? Fine. Speaking from a strictly professional standpoint, I don’t see why you need me anymore. You’ve got the X-Files, and you’ve got a partner who probably believes you, whether she’s working against you or not.” She bites her lower lip, hard, her hands in her pockets. “Where do I fit into that equation?” she asks.

And then she’s gone, slipping out of the Gunmen’s apartment and going down to her car.

6. She gets home and tells herself that it is over now. She’s serious this time. She’s going to stay at home until she hears about whether or not she is keeping her job.

But as she should’ve expected, that plan more or less blows up in her face. Agent Spender calls with information for her. He wants her to intercept the transport of his mother by train at the Potomac yards. Scully is tempted to say no, partially out of not wanting to be involved and partially out of contempt for Jeffrey Spender, but remembering everything she and Cassandra have been through, she finds herself unable to.

Mulder calls her en route to Cassandra. He wants to come pick her up, to go somewhere with him and Diana. She laughs bitterly at that. “That’s not going to happen, Mulder,” she says, teeth gritted. She tells him she is going to find Cassandra. She refuses to come with him. He decides to come with her instead.

Against her better judgement, she decides to go pick him up. For Cassandra, she tells herself. No other reason. They make it to the Potomac yards, but they can’t stop the train. Mulder tells her and Skinner that something bad is about to go down at El Rico Air Base. And by morning, everyone at El Rico Air Base is dead.

Scully goes home. Even after everything case down, after Mulder tries to apologize, she still goes home. She’s tired of the whole thing. After everything, she couldn’t even save Cassandra. She doesn’t want to hear Mulder’s apologies; she can’t do this anymore. She just wants it all to be over.

—

The next morning, she gets a call from Skinner. “Agent Scully, I’m calling to tell you that your suspension had been lifted,” he says solemnly. “And that you’ve been reassigned to the X-Files, by request of Agent Mulder.”

Scully bites down on her lower lip so hard that it bleeds. “Excuse me, sir,” she says, “but I believe that the X-Files are currently at their maximum capacity of agents.”

“I’m afraid they’re not. Agent Fowley requested a transfer,” says Skinner. He clears his throat. “And I’m afraid there’s worse news. Agent Spender’s blood was found all over the office. It will be a while before either of you can begin work.”

Scully grimaces. “That’s horrible. Do they have any idea who did it?”

“No, but I can tell you who Mulder suspects,” Skinner says.

Scully nods, staring at the rug, tears blurring her vision. She knows who he’s talking about, and she’s too exhausted to consider it. It’s been some of the longest few days of her life. And now they’re offering the X-Files back, and she’s not sure that she wants it, after everything that’s happened. At one point, she didn’t, and then she didn’t, and now she doesn’t again. She doesn’t know what to do now. All she really wants is for things to be the way they were before all of this started. Before Diana Fowley came back, before Mulder had essentially rejected her and her trust.

“Is… everything okay, Scully?” Skinner asks on the other end. She sniffles quietly and wipes her eyes; she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I thought this would be good news.”

“I… appreciate you calling to give me the news, sir,” she says quietly. “But I don’t know that I can accept the position.”

Skinner is quiet for a moment on the other end. And then he says, “You know, Mulder’s been making requests for you to be transferred back to the Files since the beginning, you know. The whole time he was partnered with Agent Fowley. He’s been asking to work with you the whole time.”

Her eyes blur further; she’s not sure if she’s grateful or extraordinarily embarrassed that Skinner managed to see through her act, see what she’s been worried about. She thanks Skinner quietly and hangs up quickly, rests her chin on her hand across the arm of the couch. She tries to tell herself it doesn’t mean anything. She tries not to think of her and Mulder on this couch a week ago, her half-asleep and him stroking the bottom of her foot absently from where it lay across his thigh, kissing her hair absently as he left. Of his teary eyes in a hallway last summer as he begged her to stay.

7. He’s at her door by that night. Of course he is. He’s apologizing before she can even get the door all the way open. “I’m sorry,” he says.

She sighs wearily, leaning against the door. “What do you want, Mulder?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, reaching out to stop her from closing the door, although she’s made no move to close it. “I’m so sorry, Scully. You… you were right. I was an ass, and I’m sorry.”

Her hands clenched harder around the doorknob. She looks at him without saying a word.

“I-I’m sorry that they partnered me with Diana,” he says softly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she mutters, resentful and remorseful all in the same breath.

He isn’t finished. He begins, “It's… it’s been hard for me to know how to deal with this. Part of me wants things to… to be the way they were before Diana left. She… she meant a lot to me, and it’s tempting to try and look past everything else and just remember what it was like before. But even from the beginning, I… things didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to work without you. I didn’t know how to work without you. I kept making excuses to hang out with you because I missed you so much.”

She looks down, away from him, at the doormat. She doesn’t know how to talk about this. She’s thinking about it, every lunch and mid-day phone call and movie night, and the memories are almost painful. “Mulder…” she says softly.

“You said you didn’t see why I needed you anymore, but I do need you, Scully.” His voice breaks a little. “I always need you. You’re my partner.”

She sniffles. She remembers when, while high off his ass, he told her that he loved her. She’s still not sure she believes him. She says, “You still trust her.”

“I…” He’s hesitating. He reaches out gently to touch her shoulder. “I don’t know anymore, Scully. I trust you. And I should’ve listened to you, and I never should’ve told you that you were making it personal, because it’s always been personal with us.” He rubs a circle along the back of her shoulder, steps a little closer. She doesn’t step away. “I’ve really, really missed you,” he murmurs. “And I’d love to work with you again, if you want.”

She gulps. She lifts her chin a little to meet his eyes. “I missed you, too,” she whispers, the back of her neck reddening.

He squeezes her shoulder. “I… I was wondering if we could talk about things,” he murmurs. “You and me. I was wondering if we could try and work on them.”

She wipes one eyes with the tip of her finger. She takes a deep breath and steps aside in the doorway so he can come in.

[popculturespiritwow]

THE WICKED + THE DIVINE #32: ARTISTIC SACRIFICES

Sigh.

JUST ANOTHER LOVE STORY

Once again we return to Laura lying on her bed smoking, when Sakhmet shows up to say something matter of fact. You know, like she murdered Amaterasu. Just another day in the life.

What follows between them is an unexpectedly intimate scene, as they lie in bed and Sakhmet asks Laura about the things she shared with her previously. It’s an incredibly dangerous moment for Laura, the kind of moment any of us would try to fill with as many plausible lies as we can. But Laura is instead completely straight about having betrayed her.

In retrospect, fom a strategic point of view that is actually probably the only survivable choice, as it’s the one move that does not put Sakhmet in the position of the fool.

NEVER PUT BABY IN THE CORNER OR SAKHMET IN THE POSITION OF THE FOOL.

But if Laura has any strategy, I find myself wondering if it isn’t once again, What’s the thing I can do that can put me out of my misery once and for all? Kill me now, please.

There’s also, What’s the choice that respects our relationship? There’s something strangely loving in Laura’s honesty, and an unexpected care in Sakhmet as well. Rather than her typical predator/prey stuff (see: what follows), here she actually seems to breaking her own script, asking real questions, lying in bed with her lover, you know, loving.  Could it be that Laura is the one person that Sakhmet actually loved?

Laura’s explanation for her choices is interesting, too.

Given what we’ll learn next issue, how she’s blamed herself for her family’s death, is this how Laura has understood herself this last arc, as someone who has had to lock herself away because she hurts people?

DIO-LOGUING

After Dionysus awakens to find Woden has ripped off his whole thing, we actually get an internal monologue from him. First inspiring, then devastating internal monologue.

I’m pretty sure Dio is only the third person we’ve ever gotten to hear from in this way, after Laura and, actually, Woden. (I’m surprised we haven’t heard from Cassandra, too. To me she’s second only to Laura as our POV character.)

It would be interesting to think about why we’ve been granted such special access to these characters and not the others.

Actually, let’s step back and think about that... In a sense Tara’s unsent letter to her fans in issue 13 was a way of accomplishing the same thing, and the upcoming Christmas issue will actually see her deliver internal monologue.

We can’t get internal monologue from Baal and Mini because their secrets are too important.The Morrigan is too lost at this point. Sakhmet’s lack of an internal monologue is a fundamental part of her character; it’s her silences that tell us everything. Similarly, Inanna’s gift really is transparency. What he says is who he is, what he believes. An internal monologue would be redundant.

Ammy can’t have an internal monologue because she’s way too invested in being a god to allow herself to check in with her authentic, so broken self. And that makes for an interesting comparison with Cassandra, who clearly has an internal life, but her superego is so freaking strong it drowns everything else out. If we ever going to hear from her, I wonder if it wasn’t going to be during Dio’s test rave. But I hold out hope.

Baphomet couldn’t have an internal monologue before now without probably ruining the reveal of what happened to him, what he’s been through. (Though we did have moments early on where he was talking to a disembodied head version of himself. Always with the severed heads...) But he’s grown so much over the course of the series, both personally in our eyes, I think I sort of hope at some point we’ll hear from him.

And Luci...? Well, she’s only around one arc before she gets got. In some ways the Christmas issue is her internal monologue, with her comments to both the fanboy reporters and the newly-ascended Ammy telling us what’s going on inside her. But here again, I’m hoping post-33 that we might actually get something more.

ANNNNDD....SCENE

Dio’s journey through the first half of the issue follows the visual structure of his hivemind rave, each image paired with a number counting the beat. But now that idea has been (brilliantly) (devastatingly) folded into the Pantheon idea of the 4 beat countdown to death. 

And even before Dio falls into his coma, the final image on each of the 4 pages laid out like this--even the number of pages part of the countdown-- foreshadow his doom. He loses touch with his powers at the end of three of the four, and in the fourth (the second page) he admits it’s getting hard to breathe.

Once more, sigh.

I love that Dio’s ending is, as repeatedly warned, all tied up in his desire to help. His self-belief is a form of pride, I guess, but I don’t think of him in those terms. He’s the guy who thinks being a god is about leaving it “all out on the field”, giving everything for others. And that’s not so much arrogant as it is beautiful and foolish. One of the most awful (devastating) (I really hate what happens to Dio, you guys) realizations of this issue is the fact that his sacrifice is not only a failure but that it’s completely unnecessary. The Norns wake up and shut this whole thing down immediately after he drops. I mean literally the same page, three panels later.

(God I love the Norns’ spider-web eye thing.)

In a way Dio ends up very much like The Morrigan; rather than embracing the truth of himself he’s made himself a character in a story, The Savior, and even though that seems like a much better choice than Selfish Shakespeare Goth Lady, in the end it’s just as ruinous.

THE MADDENING CROWD

I don’t know which is worse, Dio dying for nothing or the fact that the crowd that he invited to this amazing experience in the end are just as happy with Woden’s Shithead Hack of their Lives as Dio’s Life-Affirming Rave.

Actually never mind, this is worse, as it means not only did Dio not need to save everyone but they are ultimately not interested in being saved by what he’s been doing. They just want an experience. Humanity, why are you/we?

MOMENTS OF (UN)TRUTH

Cutting back to the Pantheon v. Sakhmet Underground Fight, we get first the truth about Laura: As much as she fashions herself Destroyer, in the end she just won’t pull/snap the trigger.

Then from out of nowhere we get Mini’s moment of truth, which marries Sakhmet’s particular form of Nihilism to Baal’s.

Buried in the background of Laura’s journey there has been an ongoing somewhat parallel story about Mini. She’s the sweet kid that’s so good-intentioned when she almost kills Brunhilde she can’t leave her bedside.

Then in the face of Ananke and her parents and the Great Destroyer she’s pushed to consider another way, in fact not just another way but the very way that her parents were killed in front of her. And finally, she has given in to it.

She Has Done What She Had to Do. She Has Chosen Predator. She has Become Ananke.

(Or has she? When did that happen? Still so confused about that.)

CASSANDRA VS. THE DESTROYER: ROUND ONE

The Norns see through Woden’s “derivative shit”. Of course, they don’t ask derivative of what? Still, it’s a deeply satisfying moment. 

And so is the wisdom this whole experience seems to bring Cassandra.

Even as she’s spent so much of the series trying to understand everything, her fatal flaw is some combination of the fact that she actually thinks that’s possible and most of the time she thinks she’s already done it. In a sense Imperial Phase has been a slow descent into humility for Cassandra, with Dio’s test rave, Cass visiting David’s house, the Norns just now being so easily betrayed, everything to do with the machine and then next issue finally learning the truths about Woden and Laura each a step along the way to real insight – and humanity. That scene of her comforting Laura next issue is such a beauty.

Here of course, even after being fooled so very badly she’s still not quite there yet, and she has for Laura nothing but condemnation.

Which of course has got to be very much the voice of some of the audience too at this point. I mean Jesus Christ, Laura, you chased this so hard despite everything saying this is not what you think it is and then it cost you so much and still all you can do is wander around sad?

But I love how Laura turns that back on Cassandra, and how it also draws in Dio. In Save everyone versus save no one, try to learn everything versus not even bother to try has not only not panned out for the “good guys”, it’s been proved to be destructive and foolish. It’s all the same in the end, all just b.s.

Given the arc’s through-line of characters trapped playing out roles and narratives, there should be something liberating to Laura’s take, too. Except even as she’s saying all this, she’s also mostly interpreting herself in terms of a role. She says that role is Destroyer, but actually given how much she think she knows, the doom she sees coming for all of them, really she’s the one that ought to be called Cassandra.

[crashdevlin]

Bottle-6: Runaway

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 2985

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: non-con, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, depression, PTSD, 

Cassie woke up in a bed in a medical room, Steve sitting beside her. She looked away from him, focusing on the beeping machine to her right. "You must think I'm crazy," she whispered.

Steve leaned forward. "No. Sad, lonely, but not crazy."

She still didn't turn to him, it was easier to talk this way. "That baby, the first one, Faye, she was everything I ever wanted. She was the culmination of all the goals I set for myself while I was in the Fridge. Get out, get a job, get married, have a baby. My grand plan. Nothing ever goes to plan." She shifted and stared at the ceiling above her, instead.

"I was trying to figure out a way to tell him when Phil got back from his mission. He started telling me all about this mission and this woman, this Audrey, and every time he talked about her his eyes would sparkle. I knew, knew he’d fallen for her. But Phil, he would never admit it. He doesn't break hearts.” She shook her head. “I made the decision that day. I hid the test, never told him. I wrote him a letter, gave him an out. If he had called me, if he had tried, I would've come back... but he was happy to be done with us. Audrey was better for him, anyway. He stopped loving me, and then Fury messed with his memories. He barely remembers me."

"He was here for two days, in this chair, until a young woman named Skye came to remind him he had an agency to run."

"Because he wanted answers, not because he feels anything for me. Or maybe he feels guilty. Either way..."

"I don't think it's that simple. But I know that you need to talk to him."

"He barely remembers me. I mean, the only difference is that he knows about Faye now."

"Well, he's still in the facility, if you change your mind." Steve stood, patting her hand. "I'm glad you're okay, Miss Campbell. I'll let the others know you're awake."

As he walked out, she knew she'd lost him. This whole event had revealed too much of her, too soon, and now the Captain didn't want her. She couldn't even think about talking to Barton, and talking to Phil was going to give her a stroke. She wondered if she was still at Playground Base. She grabbed the corner of the hospital blanket and pulled it off of her. She looked down, in disdain, at the hospital gown they'd put her in. She shook her head as she gripped the I.V. and gently took it out of her arm. She reached over and unplugged the beeping machine before pulling off the sticky pads monitoring her heart rate.

Cassie ran the odds in her head. Phil seemed to only have a handful of agents with him, five or six by her count as Joanna, add that to the number of Avengers. *It's a big facility* she thought as she looked both ways down a long hallway. *I might be able to make it out without anyone noticing... in a hospital dress, in the mountains in Europe. Just to avoid drama? Am I really going to do this?*

She settled on 'yes' as she imagined dealing with Steve and Barton as an Avenger. She couldn't go back to New York. She probably couldn't go back to America, at all, for a while. She moved through the halls, her inner map leading her to the exit. She found a biometric panel on the wall near the door and she started to try to open the program to hack it, when the stoic Asian woman stepped out of the shadows to her right.

"Where, exactly, do you think you're going?"

"I don't know. Just... somewhere else," Cassie admitted.

"So eager to leave that you couldn't find clothes first? Most parts of this range are below 0°C. Think you can survive those temperatures in that outfit?"

"Steve survived being a popsicle. Similar genetic enhancement. I could survive the Alps in... basically nothing."      

"Are you running from the questions, or the blame?"

"All of the above. This whole event has blown my life to pieces. I can't go back to work at Stark Tower, I can't join up with SHIELD." She shook her head, not even wanting to think about the state of her love life. "Any chance I had at 'happy' or even 'okay' got nuked by Loki and... Joanna. If I were less of a coward, I'd just off myself to make sure my other side couldn't ever do damage like this again. Unfortunately, I'm not even sure I'd even know how to kill myself. So, I'm running. It worked for Banner for a few years. That should be enough time to clear my head."

"If I let you leave, how would you make sure that Loki wouldn't get his claws into you again? He made it out after Barton grabbed you."

"I'll go somewhere dark and secluded. He won't be able to find me if he doesn't have any landmarks to locate... while he's spying on me." She sniffed, trying to hold back tears. "I can't deal here, Agent May. Someone like you should understand the importance of dealing with shit in... in seclusion."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course, I do. You were Phil’s partner. And I know I'm not getting out of here unless you let me. Please. I can't be here."

Melinda May looked at her for a moment before pressing her hand to the biometric lock. "Don't die. Phil would never forgive me."

Cassie nodded and bowed her head to the agent as she passed and went out the door. "Thank you, Agent May," she whispered.

******************

The cold hadn't bitten her as much as she thought it would. Her fingers had gone numb pretty quickly, but as she continued moving through the mountain range, barefoot and mostly nude, she saw no signs of hypothermia in herself. In fact, the only time her body temperature changed, at all, was when she stopped moving, and then it only dipped a few degrees until she started moving again. As much as she despised Loki, she supposed that she would have died, if she hadn't been modified.

There were several times that she had to drop to the snow and hide from the Quinjets looking for her, but even then, covered in a blanket of snow, she didn't lose enough body heat to matter. She didn't know how many days she was travelling through the mountains, but she was starving by the time she found the road. She knew better than to travel on the road, but she kept it in sight as she continued down whatever mountain she was on now.

When she made it down the mountain, she found a small village. All the signage was in German, which she barely spoke and definitely didn't read. She grabbed a pair of sweats and a jumper off a line in the backyard of a small cottage and finally got rid of the hospital gown, before heading toward a small restaurant. She was greeted by a small blond woman whose crows feet seemed just at home on her face.

"Hallo. Spechen sie English?"

"Ja. Ein bisschen. A little. American?" she asked.

"Yeah. I... something happened. I don't have my passport. No money. I was left in the mountains... to die,” she lied. “I am so hungry. Can I work to get food?" She spoke slow and purposefully, fully enunciating every syllable.

"I ask," the woman said before walking into the kitchen. She walked back out with a smile. "You wash. You get 3€ an hour."

Cassie smiled, gratefully. "Thank you so much."

**************************

Cassie worked under the table. She started as a dishwasher, where they didn't have to communicate much with her. She slept at a church, where they had an English-speaking priest and didn't ask too many questions. They provided her a cot and a few donated outfits. A jacket that she didn't need, but was oh, so comfortable. She learned she'd climbed down in Austria. As she learned more German, she was put in the kitchen, where she was given a raise to 6€ an hour.

She had a simple life, and it wasn't easy, but somehow she'd found something close to happiness. No worries of the Avengers tracking her down, they'd have found her already if they were really looking. She was sure that SHIELD was too depleted to spend their time looking for her. The only thing she worried about incessantly was Loki.

Cassie woke up in the church. She rolled off the cot and folded her blanket, placing it gingerly at the end. She bent over and gave praise to God for allowing her to wake up as herself for one more day. She dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and pulled a plain black jumper over her head. Dark blue jeans and black leather boots rounded out her outfit. She exited her closet room, and greeted the priest with a smile.

"Guten Morgen, Vater. How was your night?"

"About so well as yours, Alex. I heard your crying, again," he responded, softly. They were the only two in the room, but he was quiet about it, like he was trying to soften the impact.

She'd chosen to call herself 'Alexandra Tristitia' because it was far from alliterative and nothing close to the name Loki wanted her to have. "I'm sorry I kept you from your sleep, Father. I'll try to keep it down," she said, sitting in front of a bowl of porridge and silently thanking God for it.

"That's not why I say it, Alex. You know, I do never ask. I promised not asking. But... you hold sadness. I can help to hold it with you."

She smiled, politely at the middle-aged German man. It was becoming more frequent that Father Nathan asked her to confide in him. She couldn't blow him off completely, but he usually backed off after she politely declined talking about it. "God helps me hold it, Father. I can't bring you into it, as well."

"I want to help you, Alex. Please, allow me to help." The priest sat next to her at the little wooden table and put a hand on her upper thigh.

Cassie looked down at his hand. She could count the number of times the priest had touched her on one hand. In the two months since she came into the church seeking refuge, he had never touched her anywhere but her forehead and her arms. This contact was sudden, and more than a little uncomfortable. She shook the discomfort away, as the man had been nothing but polite and proper with her. She took a mouthful of porridge and swallowed it down, eagerly, before standing and bowing her head at the priest. "I have to head to work, Father. Thank you for the breakfast. I will... think about sharing my burden with you."

The priest nodded and grabbed his own bowl.

Cassie shrugged it off and headed off to the restaurant.

********************

As Cassie was grilling up some peppers and onions next to a couple bratwursts, she heard the door open. She'd gotten into the habit of looking to see the size of groups to see how much of an order was about to come through to her. Her heart stopped, then began again at a hammering pace, before slowing to a crawl. Clint Barton was being sat at a table near the door. He was dressed in civvies, but her eyes fell on several places where weapons were hidden. She ducked out of view and took a deep breath. *Kitchen door, back door, church, Vienna.* she thought, taking her apron off.

She quickly opened the kitchen door as Helga took Barton's order (in perfect German) and dashed out the back door, running through the alleys the half mile to the church. She ran in and made her way straight to her closet room. Father Nathan walked in as she was dumping all of her clothes into a backpack. She grabbed a jar with a handful of bills and several coins and shoved it on top of the clothes, before zipping up the bag. She turned to the priest and gave a weak smile.

"You are leaving?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

She sighed and nodded, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice. "It's time, Father. I want to thank you for all your help."

He stepped toward her. "I hope I haven't done anything to offend you, Alexandra."

She shook her head. She couldn't explain why she had to leave to the man, but she wanted him to know it wasn't him. "No. Not at all, Father. It's... it's a continuation of what brought me here. I just... have to move on and it has to be now," she said, pulling the backpack on over her jacket and smiling at him.

"You can't leave yet," he said, stepping right in front of her. "You haven't repaid my kindness."

"What are you-" she started, but he pushed her backwards onto the cot. Her arms got tangled in the bag as the priest came down on top of her. He grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled them down, violently. Cassie kicked her booted feet at him. "Stop! No!"

The priest's fingers found their way between her legs and began to rub vigorously at her clit. He pulled her pants to her ankles and positioned himself between her knees, his mouth immediately attacking her bundle of nerves with quick flicks of his tongue. "This is not okay!" she shouted, squirming against his suddenly invading fingers.

"A woman like you... you will like it. I promise," he said, before straightening and undoing his black slacks.

Cassie took that opportunity to kick him in the chest, with about a third of her considerable strength. He didn't move at all from the force. Instead, he grabbed her legs and pushed them up into her chest. He entered her quickly, using his weight to keep her arms pressed under her back and her legs pushing into her chest. He weighed more than she thought he should.

She closed her eyes, shutting down the thought processes that led down the roads of self-pity and shock. She chose the thought process of preservation, remembering the SHIELD agent at the restaurant, knowing she had to be gone before Clint found the church. She sat herself up just a few centimetres using her core, then pushed hard against her bag's straps. As they ripped, she pushed her legs against the man of God with all of her super strength. This time, with her holding nothing back, he flew backward.

Cassie jumped up, pulling her jeans to her waist and grabbing her backpack by a broken strap. As she ran out past the man who'd been so nice to her, she genuflected with her free hand. "God save you."

She made it out of the church and about five feet before Clint jumped down from a ledge on the building next to her. She let out an exasperated breath. She closed her eyes and dropped her bag, putting her hands up.

"I know you don't want to talk, Cassie. Solitude to deal with shit, I get it. There's a farm back home that I go to when I have to deal with... the shit of being Ops. You have to come back, though. We've got reports of Loki heading this way. It's the only way we pinpointed your location in Austria. He's coming for you," Clint said, taking a step toward her. "Now, he lost his sceptre back at Playground and now, Hydra's got it. He can't... turn you back, but he could do other things. We don't know the extent of what Loki can do."

She looked from Clint to the church, thinking of the uncharacteristically violent priest inside. "Shit!" she said, bending over to grab her backpack.

"What?"

"He got here first," she replied, running for the main street. "Tell me you have extraction."

He was keeping pace with her, but she could tell he was pushing his limits. He pointed to the edge of town. "Right off the main, outside the city, there's a jet. Come on."

As soon as she got on the jet, she dropped her bag and got in a jump seat. She felt wet drops hit her hand but she ignored them. She couldn't acknowledge the tears, or she wouldn't be able to stop. "How do I know that this isn't another of his illusions?"

"Because Loki wouldn't let you be saved by us." Natasha's voice came from the cockpit.

Cassie nodded. That made sense. He had been offended by them trying to 'save' her, before.

She pulled out a raggy t-shirt from her bag and wiped her entire face, as though she'd worked up a sweat. Her face didn't remain dry for long. She was crying a lot more than she originally thought. "So... I know the Fridge was blown up last year, are you taking me to Playground? I know there are cells there." Her voice was even, reserved. Had she not known she was crying, her voice would never betray it.

"You think we risked our asses to get you away from Loki, just so that you can rot in a cell?" Clint asked. She looked over at him, surprise written on her tear-drenched face.

"Tony, we've picked up the Red Queen. We are on the return," Natasha said into her headset.

"Red Queen?"

"Any complaints on that need to be directed to Banner. He coined the name," Clint said, reaching into a compartment beside him and tossing her a blanket. "Get some sleep. We've got a long trip."

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys

[renaroo]

This is so completely random, but you're very probably the only Batfam Stan that also loves the Superfam and knows the various members of both families. I was wondering, in your mind, which members of the Superfamily match up with which members of the Batfamily? Like for instance, I've always firmly believed that Linda-Mae matches up with Dick, while Karen goes with Helena. As far as Babs goes, they share her.

If I’m reading you correctly, you’re asking who roughly inhabits the same spots in the Superfam that the Batfam has, yes? It’s really a fascinating question because I think there are lots of comparisons to be made, but it’s also interesting because of the ways they don’t line up perfectly. Like there’s a big difference in their structure just by the fact that Lois is the clear matriarch of the family and almost none of the Superfam have been without a relationship with her. So getting comparisons for some positions does tend to get a little fuzzy. So, I’m just going to go through the family one by one, starting with the most obvious which is Clark and Bruce. 

Clark Kent: Obviously as the central family patriarch and the one who basically inspires everyone else to come into their own while attempting to live up to his impossible image, Clark is the most Bruce-like in comparisons. Which of course, their similarities are as strong as their differences which has been the source of their mutual respect and friendship over the decades and just make them incredibly fascinating characters to play off of each other in almost any circumstance. 

Lois Lane: In recent years Kate has kind of stepped up to be the momma of the Batfam in a sense, and to be Bruce’s equal which would be representative of Lois and Clark’s equal footing in their relationship, but Kate’s got much less of a background for this position and for obvious reasons her relationship with Bruce is nothing like Lois’. In that way I would put Lois much more as a Selina Kyle. They share a street smarts and sassiness, prefer to look out for themselves but can’t help but fall into the same circles as their romantic interests, and in most realities end up married. It’s not a perfect fit, but I would argue it on more than a few grounds. 

Jimmy Olsen: Definitely the Dick Grayson of the Superfam. Not only is he Superman’s pal, but he’s sort of the emotional bond that keeps a lot of the Superfam connected. He’s not only trusted by both Clark and Lois and inspired by both of them, but he’s also a confidante and romantic interest for Kara, was a friend to Linda, and in general is someone who is just by definition associated with Superman. It’s an iconic duo in a lesser sense than Bruce and Dick. 

Martha Kent: Originally I was going to say Pa is the Alfred, but honestly Martha Kent is most definitely the Alfred Pennyworth of the Superfamily. She is a supportive and endearing voice, full of wit, and is the first person Clark goes to when he needs advice or solace. She is beloved by all of the Superfam members and has ben denmother/actual mother to nearly all of them in one sense or another. 

Jonathan Kent: The more I think about it, the more I find that Pa is really a lot like Leslie Thompkins in Clark’s life. He has a bit of a harsher vibe to him and his disappointment is something that Clark is more conscious and fearful of, but it all stems from firm morality and a fear and protectiveness of his son. He is the guiding light for Clark’s humanity and is the sort of man that Clark tries to live up to without ever feeling he can fully achieve it. And all that despite clearly having well defined flaws of his own. 

Lana Lang: Hilariously enough, I would put Lana on the level of a far more important and far more relevant and updated Vicki Vale. Again this seems like a strained comparison (because it is) but she’s a former romantic interest and friend to Clark who loves him but also couldn’t deal as well with realizing that he is Superman or at least that he’s something beyond her comprehension. And there’s still some pining and nonsense there, fortunately Lana is with John Henry now and written much better. Speaking of which...

John Henry Irons: A less murdery and more accepted member of the Superfam than his Batfam equivalent, John Henry Irons is a lot like Helena Bertinelli in that they both were inspired by the “patriarchs” of the family, but did things in their own style and in their own ways. He relies on his background and heritage as much as Helena does and it has influenced him to where he is today. 

Kara Zor-El: An apt comparison for Kara is actually Barbara Gordon. Not only were they good friends in the Bronze Age, but they were similarly motivated. Despite both of them having just as much heartbreak and tragedy in their lives as Batman or Superman, they make the choice to not be defined by that and instead to invent their superhero identities as a way of fulfilling an obligation they feel either to law and order or to the sense of not wanting to lose their adopted new home to the same forces that took their old one. 

Natasha Irons: Is absolutely the Superfam’s Stephanie Brown for better or worse. Nat is selfmade, has a family history of criminal activity but chooses to follow her uncle and Superman’s influences instead to make herself a superhero. Despite all she achieves, for absolutely no reason that makes canonical sense to... anyone who’s read it, basically, John abruptly decides she’s undeserving of her suit and takes it from her? That causes her to make some mistakes and play into a trap by one of the family’s worst enemies and get held hostage and tortured. Fortunately she wasn’t needlessly killed like Steph, but she did come back in spectacular fashion. 

Mae Kent: Mae is a completely different character from Linda Danvers. Mostly. Kind of. So I’m going to treat them as such on this list. Mae is actually Clark’s adopted sister in the preboot and was taken in and cared for by Ma and Pa Kent. She’s fairly independent, making a name for herself outside of Clark even if they continued to have a good relationship. When Clark dies for a year, she is one of the top contenders for taking his place and becoming a surrogate Superman herself. In this way she most reminds me of Kate Kane, self-made while deeply connected to the family patriarch and sharing a family bond. 

Karen Starr: Completely depends on which version you’re going with but if you’re going with the most common, the preboot, I think Karen is the most like Harper Row. She’s a solid member of the family, but she’s also beyond the family, and it’s not in a bad sense. She’s still connected to everyone, and every inventive and set apart almost purely based on her industriousness (making her business empire!) but as much as she does team up with everyone and join frays, she’s mostly off on her own adventures these days and most of her drama comes from civilian life rather than just her time as Power Girl.

Kon-El: This is going to be so freaking controversial but here we are. If I was to pick any analogue in the Batfam for Kon it would not be his best bud Tim, but his fellow leap-before-thinking, bit of a bad boy, fellow leather jacket wearing Jason Todd. They both like coming back from the dead and having inexplicable genre jumps throughout their histories and their main angst comes from a conflict of ideals and perspectives with their parental figures. Kon also is constantly concerned with going over the edge and turning to a villain because of his “bad genes” which reminds me a lot of how Jason felt judged for growing up and being born into a situation outside of his control. 

Linda Danvers: It’s a bit of a cheat since they’re my favorite heroes I grew up with at the time, but when I think of Linda I always think of Cassandra Cain. Linda was not born into an abusive home life, but she was part of an abusive relationship and made mistakes that eventually led to a death. Unlike Cass, however, Linda’s death was her own. That was the turning point in her origins and from that point on she was led to being Supergirl out of not just a weird combining with Mae but through discovering a deeper level of morality and humanity than she had once seen inside of herself. And that became such a strong light in her life, she was even able to inspire the redemption of the very demon that had been responsible for her murder. 

Traci Thirteen: It might be a bit early to call this, but I think Duke Thomas is the most positioned in the Batfam with Traci. Traci initially was a pretty independent character who mostly worked under the “advisement” of Clark and came into her own with her own identity and style. They both have good families they lose to tragic circumstances and slowly find their place within the gaggle of other children in their families. 

Maggie Sawyer: Like I’m not saying it’s a purely lesbian thing, but it’s kind of the lesbian friend detective in the force who goes above and beyond and may or may not be a hero in their own right thing that I compare Maggie Sawyer and Renee Montoya. It’s a thing. And it’s a thing that unites them because they both have banged Kate Kane. Which is the real dream.

Cir-El: My poor sweet daughter is of course far too similar and too unused much like my other dear sweet daughter, Helena Wayne. They are both daughters of the matriarch and patriarch of the family from alternate futures that may or may not ever happen. They hold their father’s values and their mother’s attitudes and they both have awful terrible first costumes. 

Chris Kent: Even though their personalities are starkly different, there is definitely a common thread between Chris and Damian Wayne. They come from troubling childhoods and have difficulties with the concept of unconditional love. Their only aspirations are to live up to expectations and take the mantles of their respective fathers. And for as much trouble as it may cause them they stand up against the villains they fear most in the final hour even under threat of pain or death. They both have a “I choose my real family” moment with a parent that mistreats them, too. 

Jon Kent: This may seem like an odd comparison for now, but I get a Tim Drake vibe from Jon. Hear me out, there’s a lot of superhero worship and naivety about what his new superhero identity is going to bring with it. And while he’s much younger and less detectively minded than Tim, Jon draws on his knowledge of his father’s legacy as well as what he observes from his friends and other superheroes around him to creatively get himself out of jams. Not to mention he loves giving those moralizing speeches. 

Perry White: He’s Jim Gordon. Next.

Krypto the Superdog: THE ONE THAT ACTUALLY MATTERS. Ace doesn’t go out much into the field anymore so the most apt comparison here is actually Goliath the Bat Dragon. Aaaaand that’s what I’ve got. 

I hope this all made sense I had fun writing it out lol

[ollieoooop]

Hi! DC fan here!

For the purposes of this, I'm only going to really be using Ladybug and Chat Noir because I feel like Rena is just an OP character. But, yes, if Rena were around they would probably win against most of them because it's hard to fight against something you can't see properly.

Yeah, no way in hell that Ladybug's team could defeat anyone with superpowers. Superman is literally invulnerable, Green Lantern essentially has Ladybug's lucky charm but instantaneous and can be used multiple times per battle, it's hard to beat someone going faster than you can see, etc etc.

Batman and his family... okay there's a lot of them, so bear with me here:

Could they beat Batman himself? Probably not, he specializes in all forms of martial arts and he makes contingencies for literally everyone he meets. He has plans on how to take out everyone except basically Wonder Woman if push ever comes to shove. Don't care how smart Marinette is, if the paranoid bastard even starts to think that she might try and fight him she'd be out.

For Dick Grayson it depends which interpretation he falls under. There are two general ones: hypercompetent!Dick Grayson and himbo!Dick Grayson. The hypercompetent version has been a hero for years and it shows, he's very spontaneous and very good with people. The himbo version either wouldn't fight children or would insist on only pins, so he'd probably lose.

Barbara Gordon is a tech genius, but in most iterations that are worth a damn she's also disabled. She'd lose in a physical fight but I doubt she'd even get to that point. She more or less stays in the background, a kind of man in the chair or I guess a woman in the wheelchair situation, so I can't really imagine her trying to get into a fight herself.

Jason Todd uses mostly guns and we've seen Ladybug's yoyo and Chat Noir's staff both deflect projectiles when spinning so I think she could beat him.

Tim Drake... I feel like he and Ladybug would be a cool matchup. Kind of like how you envisioned Batman and Ladybug. Both are really calculated planners and perfectionists in everything they do. I feel like this one could go either way.

Cassandra Cain would body them if she killed but as it is she would still totally win. Literally the most talented person in the DCU I am not taking constructive criticism at this time.

Stephanie Brown would not win. I love her, but no. Just no. Just generally doesn't have the skill, unfortunately.

Damian Wayne would also lose because he's arrogant, tends to overestimate his abilities, and easy to anger. Kid's talented I'll give him that but you push a few buttons and he just melts. Maybe if he grew up a little (he is 13 after all) it'd be a more fair fight but as is... yeah, he'd lose.

Duke Thomas... I don't know, actually. He has powers that can essentially predict people's next move so I want to say he'd win but at the same time he's pretty new so he doesn't have a lot of skill to back that up... I'll give it a 'he'd probably win but if there were enough people he'd get overwhelmed and lose'.

Most Rogues would lose because most of them are just normal people that decided to use their above-average intellect to be murderers with gimmicks.

Clayface and Poison Ivy are exceptions in that they have powers. Clayface I feel would lose because his usual strategy is infiltration and Ladybug and Chat Noir know each other too well for that to work. Poison Ivy would win because she has control over plants and there are very few places I can think of where she wouldn't have that upper hand.

There's also the Arrowverse where most people don't have powers but I don't know much about them. Gut instinct says that Ladybug would win with the same logic that I had for Jason Todd but idk.

With all the crossovers with DCU and Miraculous Ladybug With Daminette fanfics (There is so many...) I’ve been wondering how Ladybug, Chat Noir and the other characters would actually fare in that universe (With the creator’s choppy writing.) Do you think they’ll thrive or be outpaced by the overwhelming amount of more powerful (and better written.) Heroes and Villains because there is no way in hell that Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Unstoppable team could stand against Batman or even the Joker...

Well, against a superpowered hero like Superman and Wonder Woman, I doubt Ladybug’s team would stand a chance even if they went easy on them.

Against someone like Batman would be more interesting of a matchup, as he and Ladybug both specialize in strategizing.

Granted, I’m not really a DC expert, so I don’t think I can give an accurate answer here

[sparemyocs]

The Fade And Fading (Pt 4)

Varric looked between the three advisors, trying not to feel tired. "Look, what do you want to know? I've been friends with blood mages before. If you want me to say that he doesn't know what he's doing, you've got another thing coming."

"That is all we want: your honest opinion. You're very good at giving it." The spymaster nodded to him respectfully, hands clasped behind her back. Lady Nightingale's back was too straight but her clothes swayed with the weight shifting between her legs and of course her hands usually stayed in front of her, not behind. Sides at most. So many tells from the spymaster... Varric wasn't buying it.

"He's a good kid. Maybe even the second best man I've ever met. His chances are already slim for making it out of this without all of us turning on him, I vote we don't. Fact of the matter is, this doesn't change anything. He's been a blood mage this whole time and the Inquisitor would throw his life down for any one of us." Varric grunted, "I'll argue until the druffalo come home if that's what it takes."

Josephine shook her head, writing down what the dwarf had said, "That won't be necessary Varric. ...But we will keep it in mind."

Vivienne put a hand on her hip, "I assume the Commander has already told you my stance on the matter at hand?"

Leliana nodded, "He has, but we were hoping you would elaborate?"

"On what my Lady? He is a maleficar, there's only one or two suitable responses to such a thing."

Josephine didn't write down Vivienne's answer yet, "You don't care to know the details at all?"

"Details have a way of muddying up the facts Ambassador. We know the truth of the matter. Why would Andraste or the Maker purposefully choose someone who uses blood magic moreover? There's no reason to feel any kind of reverence towards him. We have the power in this situation, and common sense says that we must act. How we act is up to you three so long as something is done."

Josephine scowled, but put down Vivienne's answer without any further protest.

Cole arrived just as the three heard the Inquisitor's screaming, looking upwards with all of them. "Pacifying, pretending, pointless pandering. They cannot love me now that they know. These games are painful and I want them to let go."

"What's happening?" Cullen started around the war table, getting a grip on his sword.

"Dorian is refusing to leave. Elvyr'el, eth'el, enemah'sal ebalasha. First he needs to go. But he won't. He isn't afraid of beloved."

Cullen stopped at the door, looking back while his sword was half drawn. "Should he be?"

"...He'd give us anything, but most of all he wishes he could have given us someone else. Sa'lin'on'el."

Cullen grimaced and looked to Leliana instead. When the woman shook her head he'd replace his sword and return to them slowly. "What does he want us to do?"

"...He thinks he wants you to kill him." Cole continued staring up. He was a pulsing, aching hurt right now but helping him was going to be complicated. He always remembered. "But killing him would be wrong. He doesn't deserve it, he only wants to heal and help. We need to heal his hurt." At last, Cole lowered his gaze, looking at them all with his owlish eyes.

"That may be easier said than done Cole," Josephine said quietly.

"Yes."

Solas held his head high as he entered the war room. He'd never really felt any strong need to come in here until now, but he focused on the Inquisitor's advisors rather than taking in his surroundings. "If there is this much fuss about the matter then I presume you are not all of one mind?"

"We don't intend to make any decision without taking the opinions of the Inner Circle into consideration." Leliana leaned forward, placing her hands onto the war table.

"Fair enough. It wouldn't do to find yourselves outnumbered in your quest to destroy him." Solas sneered sourly. "Blood magic is no fouler than any other kind of magic. Our friend has shown himself as being nothing but responsible and kind with his skills and I will defend him if it comes down to it. ...If you make a mistake, do you really wish it to be the one which cannot be remedied?"

Josephine glanced hesitantly between the stoic Cullen and Leliana, but neither of them looked back at her. Wilting, she wrote down the elf's answer, "Thank you Solas... We will be sure to think about that."

The Iron Bull was growling about blood magic under his breath as he came in, quick to look to Leliana. "So, what'd he have to say for himself?"

"He claims to have been taught from childhood by his father. Never summoned any demons, never committed blood sacrifice beyond bleeding his own person."

"Sounds about right. ...Knew he was hiding something but damn. ...Don't like it, but he's a good guy. Helps that he isn't going to be stuffing it down our throats. Too guilty. It matters to him, but I don't think he wants to admit it. Anyway, he's not a danger to anybody.... Okay he is a danger but not to any of us. Long as he doesn't pull any crap, we don't need to do anything. ...And no, this isn't going into any of my reports. Pretty sure they'd lose their shit."

"Thank you Iron Bull," Leliana nodded to him. "Do you want to know anything else?"

"If I can, I think I'd rather hear it from the boss. You get more information that way."

"Fair enough," Leliana looked to the side, watching Josephine write the Qunari's thoughts down.

Blackwall entered looking more dower than usual. "I want to know why."

"He did not learn blood magic of his own volition." Josephine answered, the word 'blood' still heavy and sticky on her tongue, "The Inquisitor was taught it by his father as a tool for healing. He has never killed anyone to perform it and he does not cavort with demons, reportedly."

The bearded man was silent, mouth tensing and untensing as he worked through the information. "Then why are we here? He's a good man no matter what he knows, we already know that."

Cullen sighed, "It is not so simple."

"Isn't it? I recall that he was just as, if not more horrified by what was happening to the Grey Wardens as the rest of us."

"It is blood magic, Blackwall," Leliana scolded. "It is dangerous, and forbidden for good reason."

"He saved a man's life out there. That is more real to me than any of your hollow excuses."

"They are not excuses-!"

"Tell that to Hawke, then we'll talk." His lip curled at the red headed woman, eyes sharp in anger. "Miris knew about this too and she still trusts him. Hawke isn't the first life he's saved."

Leliana's eyes brightened with the remainder of the other elf, "Is that so? What did Miris tell you exactly?"

"It's none of your damned business. I'll send her in after me, if the Lady wants to tell you then she will."

"Send her in then," Leliana instructed, "if you have nothing more to say."

"I don't."

The pale woman held herself tightly as she came in, avoiding the eyes on her by any means besides covering her face. "...You want to know why I trust ara'falon?"

"Yes, please. ...I suppose that as part of the Lavellan, you've known about this for a long time?"

"...How much am I telling? I'm no tale spinner."

"As much as you're comfortable with. ...Or at least what you think is important for us to understand."

"The clan did not trust him at first. He was alin and he did not see us as isa'lethal, but he didn't know what more to do with himself than what he was brought to us for. I stayed away from him. Then he was allowed to help the healer." Miris reached up with eyes still downcast, tugging on one of her wide ears. "Ar'i'var'linem fra'melahn'an. He saved my baby. It didn't end there either: he loved Senna. It was the first time it seemed like he felt a part of us. He was patient and gentle with her like no one else, even though she refused to look at you and was quiet like the nighttime. ...Ir'emem nan'is'i'ebelas ahnsul'or asa'din. Her death destroyed him as much as it did me. His revenge for it changed the clan though. They took it as a... sign that he would protect us by any means necessary. Alin himem'ethelan."

"What did you think about this revenge?" Leliana folded her arms as she asked, wishing the woman would just look at them. It lined up with what Hanhari had said so far, but that didn't mean it was true.

"...I didn't understand why Sennarel deserved to die for a long time. My family was gone all. I was angry with ara'falon. ...I see a little better now. I've forgiven ara'falon mostly, but I still miss my bonded some nights." That was better now too, but that was private. "Hanhari knows his allies." She took her hand off her ear to push at the massive doors keeping her in the war room, getting out as soon as there was space to slip through and running back to the barn outside.

The Seeker was watching her feet at first as she came in, her thoughtful expression turning hard when the door closed and she looked up. "This is a serious matter, and truthfully I am having a difficult time knowing how to approach it."

Josephine sighed sympathetically, "You and I both, but unfortunately it must be addressed."

Cassandra asked for review of what they knew already, listening without interruption. "...His circumstances are not the average, that is for certain. But he does know better now, and it seems that he has crossed the line despite that. I fear most what it might mean for the future. We do not want to appear tolerant of it if this spreads as more than rumor beyond us, but also I wonder what else he might deem as being worth the risk."

"What do you propose Cassandra? The Inquisitor has made it clear he won't fight our decision, but there are others who will. Either way, this could tear the Inquisition apart from the inside." Cullen gestured with one hand to punctuate his concern. The other stayed rested on the hilt of his sword.

"...The Maker did not do this on accident. He is testing us, but I do not know what the right answer is. So much of what was and is taught has been thrown into question lately."

Leliana lowered her eyes, nodding. "I... admit, at times like these I wonder what Justinia would have done. ...I'm inclined to believe that she would have had faith in him, but what if that is just my bias? ...Our path is dark indeed." She closed her eyes for a moment with her head still bowed before straightening up again. "What are you inclined to believe then, at least."

"...For now at least, we are better off simply trying to keep him from using his power. At least until Corypheus has been defeated, word of this cannot leave Skyhold. It is best not even mentioned outside of this room." Cassandra sighed, "We will address later when we get to later."

Dorian closed the door behind him slowly. Tried as he had to fix it, the hair on his left side was a touch flattened and out of place. "Am I the last you've spoken to then?"

"No. Sera has thus far refused us," Leliana corrected with some irritation.

"I suppose I'm not surprised. She's rather frightened of regular magic let alone... this. It's a shame really, they'd made such charming friends." Dorian took a deep breath, "Now then, what decision have you made?"

"We haven't made one yet Dorian." Josephine looked over her notes, "The overall attitude is more accepting than you'd think, but both sides are quite charged."

"Well that's something. ...My proposal is rather simple. We defeat Corypheus, and rather than making him Tranquil I take him. If it's a choice between 'in serious danger' and 'doomed' I'll take the odds where one side isn't zero."

"Take him?" Josephine tilted her head at the man, "Take him where?"

"Why, the one place where blood magic scarcely makes people bat an eye of course. It's horrifically risky and while I don't fancy the idea for a moment it's better than... Just, anything but that."

"Tevinter." Leliana hummed softly, "It is not a bad idea actually. If he is discovered there it would be written off as-"

"As my country continuing to be terrible. Yes yes, covering our reputation is important as well. Maker help us if it turns out he's anything but perfect. He's already an elf after all." Dorian rolled his eyes. "...Are you willing to give us that opportunity then? You could lie to Vivienne and whoever else to keep the peace. I'm sure I could act convincingly depressed too."

Josephine nodded, "I would be willing to try at least. Leliana? Cullen?"

"Yes Josie. If we can't find a better solution, Dorian's does work out quite nicely."

"...I swear, this had better be the last time 'blood magic' gets wrapped up in my life... I'm fine with this plan. He's been as kind to me as anyone else..."

When it became evident that Sera wasn't coming, Leliana went out to the Herald's Rest to look for her. She never had to actually enter the tavern however, spotting the woman fussing on the roof by her silhouette in the window light. Sera was scribbling in a book furiously, swearing profusely when she ripped through one of the pages. She then proceeded to rip it out and shredded it in her hands before trying and failing to chuck the scraps over the lip of the roof.

"Sera, we need to talk to you."

"Piss off!"

Cole pulled up beside the spymaster from the shadows, "Scared, sad, he's so selfish. He was supposed to be a friend. An elf who wasn't better than me and always tried." Cole called up to Sera, "He wants to be someone else like you wish he was someone else!"

"F-off Creepy!" Sera reached inside and grabbed her bow, shooting the hat off the spirit's head. "None of you know shite! Shove off!" A second arrow lodged itself between Leliana's feet.

Cole hurried to get his hat back on before running away.

Leliana folded her arms and tapped one of her feet, "We can decide without you if you'd like."

"Decide what yeah? Just get it over with! The bitch is right okay! Leave me out of this shite!" She crawled back into the tavern through her open window, likely slipping off to hide somewhere more effective. Leliana shook her head slightly. Sera was as slippery as some of her best men when she didn't want to be caught. The information she'd gotten out of her would have to be enough.

Elvyr'el – Simpler eth'el – safer enemah'sal ebalasha – about to repeat [the] grief Sa'lin'on'el – Someone (literally: one blood) better ara'falon – my lifelong friend alin – stranger isa'lethal – his family Ar'i'var'linem fra'melahn'an – I was pregnant at that time Ir'emem nan'is'i'ebelas ahnsul'or asa'din. - He had great violent rage and depression because of her death Alin himem'ethelan – Stranger became protector

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Red Queen Fan Fiction Black Storm Extra: Harvest Moon part II

First part

info dump on original characters you will need this I guess

Seriously, I thought very long about if I should post this. People might feel bad about reading such a story. But I think I should offer this story to those who are interested. Please notice that I don't intend to offer perfect solutions or to shame people. This is the story of one fictional character and her way to cope.

Warning! Mentioning of sexual violence. Warning! Proceed with caution

 Set in December during King's Cage, apart from the flashbacks

Cassandra POV

 My family believes in ghosts. There's our one legendary ancestress, Lisa Corvin, the Siren and the Sacrifice, the bride and the murderer and the murdered one. Our disembodied guardian. Many daughters have been named for her, in more or less creative ways. She's still around us, the more superstitious relatives claim, but all us of revere her, the young girl who killed her husband with only one word. I cherish her too, how could I not, as I am a relentless murderer myself. Lisa Corvin is the goddess of death who has walked this path before me.

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

 The invasion of the Lakelands went well for three days. It was a small-scale attack, to be honest, and probably the reason of the eventual failure. Our team of twenty soldiers, all Reds except a skinhealer, my brother Roman and me, walked for the first two days, stormed a Red village at night and chased off the local Reds. We couldn't bring ourselves to kill them at that point, which wasn't the smartest idea in hindsight.

Because the Lakelanders fought back. Our position wasn't secure and as we patrolled our "conquered" lands, I, prowling alone, was the first to notice the Silver hunters of the enemy.

Yet there wasn't much for me to notice before they shot me.

There have been four of them, and it were four bullets that crossed my abdomen. I didn't know if each of them had hit me, but as I fell down, I used those bullets to kill them instead.

They were my first victims and still, I laid down to die, bleeding and helpless unless someone came for me. So I helped myself.

That might have been the most important moment of my life, when I faced death and fought her with all I had. I summoned powers I didn't know I possessed, monitoring my fading body functions to stop the bleedings, to remain breathing, to keep my heart beating. Maybe my powers could've awakened later on as well, maybe they could've been triggered by another, less dangerous event. It didn't matter because this wasn't only about the new level of my powers afterwards. It was about fear. Until my brother found me and brought me to the inexperienced skinhealer, I'd learned what it was to die. But I had persisted, my mind had surpassed my body. I'd defeated death and I felt like I was able to defeat everything afterwards.

 As better healers took care of my wounds after out retreat, they noticed the lack of an uterus in my body, rendering me unsuitable for marriage to most nobles. I was too young to be disappointed but I knew what it meant nonetheless. I wondered if that was the moment my mother would finally give up on me, the one mistake she'd ever allowed herself.

But when she came for me, what I saw in her face was a mix of worry and relief. She apologized to me. She rued what she'd done to me, sending be into battle at age 12, and, what shocked me most of all, she felt ashamed for having estranged me from my father. I hadn't known how it felt to be loved until that moment.

I met my father more often, afterwards. Yet when I saw him with his baby daughter Samantha, I wondered if he would've even noticed my demise when he'd just had another daughter, this time with a woman he really loved. I didn't want to lose him again, though, nor my little sister. I wanted to be part of their lives, even as I became a sentinel, and I lost more and more parts of myself in order to turn myself into a soldier.

I learned to employ minute control and the sense of motion of my ability whenever I wanted. Thus I kept a broken jar in my room, a piece of china I held in shape alone with thoughts from the back of my mind. I finally managed to hold up to the other Silvers who were stronger than me by birth. And becoming a stronger fighter was all I had at that time. I grew arrogant and boastful. I told stories about how I'd received the scars I didn't want the healers to erase.

"My ability had vanquished death."

"I saw the goddess of death and I chased her away."

"I looked into the eyes of the goddess of death and she looked back. This gaze endured so long that the abyss of death has carved itself into my soul and that is how I became the deadliest person in Norta."

My powers grew just like these dramatic stories. Or it was the other way round: I had to invent even grander metaphors to keep them up with my increasing skills.  

 I started to be called Queen of Limbs when I was fourteen and I fought with a strongarm on a First Friday. I'm a frequent contestant in those events, until now. That day, I used my quicker pace to escape his attack while shooting throwing stars at him, but it wasn't enough once he had me in his grip. I couldn't fight his strength and I felt my bones breaking, yet I didn't relent. Even with my body incapitated, I still had my mind. As I gasped for pain and breaths, I imagined his limbs twisting and turning until I saw only stars and blackness. Till he gave in, screaming out himself, and had me drop to the ground. While I was a double-edged sword, a weapon by body and brain, he was unable to fight if injured too hard. Despite my own wounds, despite being close to barfing from power overuse, I heaved myself up, forcing my broken legs to work so I could walk out of the arena victorious and with my head held high.

There was a huge difference between my family life and the profession I strived to live up to. I was a girl cleaved in two. I pretended things with my family were the same as ever, I had fun, wore pretty dresses and laughed. I ignored what happened during sentinel trainings, as I ignored that I was no longer innocent but a murderer even if it had been self-defense.

But Firebird and Sorata continued to be the most important persons in my life, friends I could trust with my issues when I dared to speak and relive them again.

 They were the only friends I ever had. We got into trouble and when stuff got bad, I got sent away. Basically.

I put my white dress on that night, dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight, barefoot in our town house garden while Firbird did the same. She looked as stunning as ever. Her beauty wasn't rooted in perfection yet to me, she was the prettiest girl I knew. She was fitting well into the verdant garden like the hummingbird she was with her aquiline nose, dark olive skin, rich make-up and her colourful, flowery dress. This party was a return to the paradise of our childhood, if we only tried hard enough. It was our present to each other, but mostly to Sorata. It was his birthday and we celebrated him, the Red boy, as our equal. To Firebird and me, he had never been anything else: not even then, after we'd spent five years at court, interacting with other Silver children, fighting in their wars and learning our lessons of supremacy. We longed to be disobdient, non-conformity was  written in our souls, yearning to be lived out, a feeling any teenager has to be familiar with, Silver ones as well. And Sorata meant even more to me.

It was an evening of stargazing, as the fragrances of summer, grass, grills and Mother's cigarettes hung in the air. We were drinking cherry schnapps in the velvet night, booze Firebird had snatched for us, even though we could get away with only so much. As the night wore on, I started to lean against Sorata while he played with my hair. Sometimes I moved the tresses around like snakes to tickle and caress him as well, and the play became bolder by the minute. We were an inch from kissing as Firebird raised her voice.

"Aren't you named for the sky, Sorata?"

She gave us only a glance as the contemplated the night sky. Yet Sorata coughed before he answered. "Yes," another cough, " that's right. Sky, or void. Vacuum. It's from an old tongue, from across the seas. Japanese."

I was stunned. "Really? I thought most of those relicts are gone?"

He shrugged. "My parents' ancestors came from there. Of both, I mean. Wonder if they'd noticed, and told each other the same myths." He laughed this off, as he was used to when talking about his family. His father had died long ago and his mother wasn't the most affectionate, even by Silver standards. Something stood between them.

Firebird nodded gravely. "It's good to remember. And it's a beautiful name."

"All of you have 'old' names, don't you Cassie?"

I blinked. "Yes, we do?" I realized I haven't let go if his shirt. I was practically sitting in his lap and I wanted to get closer still. Sorata knew and it made him nervous, blushingly nervous. He stroked my back, and I laid my head on his shoulder. He fit me better than my favourite sweater and Firebird was done with interrupting us. It didn't take us much longer to start kissing. And more. We were young and in love and in the end, we became each other's firsts, with nothing to rue. It was freedom, as much we were allowed to have. If we kept a low profile.

That was where the beginning of the end began, everybody knew that we had too much fun.

Enough people noticed. Some Silvers indeed kept Red paramours, but that wasn't what I wanted for Sorata and me, as nobles looked down upon either. Mother reminded me of this as well, frequently. Saying I had too much to lose to begin with. As did Sorata, she claimed, and her black eyes gleamed mean, envisioning what the more sadistic Silvers did to Reds who forgot their places, like by being in love with a Silver. She told me of one example and I gave in.

Sometimes love was not enough and the road got tough.

So it happened that Firebird and I went on a diplomatic mission to the Lakelands. A terrible decision, to be honest.

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

Seven is the number of men I’d had sex with. One was the boy I love, five were fellow sentinels. It isn’t an extremely large number, but apparently too many for a 20-year-old, or so some people thought, those who called me names for that. I claim not to care about that and on most days, I don’t. Consensual sex is nothing to be ashamed about and my ex-boyfriends don’t shame me either. Only those who like to gossip, who don’t care about what really happened, are base enough to insult me. I think them ridiculous.

I shouldn’t delude myself though. There was nothing romantic about my affairs, and my motivation was petty. After I’d noticed one man’s, Alex, interest in me, I saw a chance. A way to wield control over the real nobles, a game  that reduced sex to a mere power-play: Those boys and men I'd slept with were people I dared to trust, they liked and respected me, even after I’d broken up with them. Others lusted after me, hoping for more, and I prefered to punish them with ignorance if I could not bait them.

I hadn’t expected for this game to work so well, not for such a long time. I almost waited for my ex-boyfriends to hate on me, to beat me up in training, to group up against me, yet my fears remained unfounded. Slowly, I realized that maybe, if they really liked me, they might deserve better. But it was what I needed back then, control over my sexuality and through it. It was better to wake up next to someone I trusted than being alone in a moment of panic when I didn’t remember where I was or what had happened the night before. When all I saw was the imagined red blood on my hand, as if what had been done to me in the Lakelands, what I had done, had occurred just hours ago and not four years prior.

I tell myself that I'm afraid of nothing, but is that really true? Possibly, yet another truth is that while I was in the Lakelands, I was drugged and raped and I have survived. I've continued with my life and still have I to deal with it, the fact that a Red boy, just a few years older than me, had thought me the perfect target to exact his revenge on the Silvers.

He assumed that no Silver girl would dare to demean herself to report such a crime. He was right. As much as I hate him, the real betrayal originated from my own people who let me down, without a way to obtain justice unless I took it into my own hands.

Philip Cross raped a 15-year-old girl to find a conduit for his anger. I was obliged to remind him that this could not ever happen again. So I faced him alone in a boathouse in Detraon, and used my ability to pin him against a wall and inflicting on him all kinds of pain I could imagine.

Revenge was no joy, and justice an illusion. The only enduring reminder I gave to him was the R I engraved on his cheek.

"Remember this, fucker," I hissed between his winces, "remember what this letter stands for. Not Red, not rebel, not runaway. Rapist. That's what you are."

I could have done anything with him and gotten away with it, I knew that much. I didn't want to. I didn't want to sink to his level and even less did I want to admit to him how much he'd hurt me by punishing him even more brutally. Did I find the right measure? I don't have an inkling.

After I'd stained my hands with his blood, I tried to forget him. My whole focus was on keeping myself together. It wasn't easy, while staying in the foreign country with devious nobles around me like in the Whitefire, when I couldn't bring myself to tell Firebird, who was there with me, yet.

But the visit ended soon afterwards anyway. The Scarlet Guard attacked the court and I killed my first Red, to defend Firebird and the royal family she was talking to when the assault happened. I wondered if those terrorists had anything to do with Philip Cross, but I can't know as he didn't take part that day. As all but one of the rebels laid dead on the floor, Princess Iris looked at me acknowledgingly. She had captured one of them alive, a man who would later spill the secrets of his group, thus causing the destruction of a whole village that harboured the insurgents. I heard that much before the Nortan emissaries were asked to leave for home.

Some months later, I started to tell one family member after another of my violation. I needed to talk and yet, it wasn't enough. Nothing was. I got my tattoos. I trained harder, fought, and took lovers, but as time healed my heart it hardened it as well. I didn't hesitate to accept when King Maven ordered me to hunt his Silver enemies, to kill or capture them. I was good for the job, well experienced in fighting other Silvers and able to attack from the distance and the shadows, like the assassin some comrades started to call me, the true heir of the Siren. I spiked them with everything in the vicinity, I crushed lungs and made their veins burst for slower and more veiled deaths. I excelled, and yet it didn't make me feel any better.

Once, I even took part in a Newblood eviction. I continued to loath fighting against Reds, thus I was shocked to see how my comrades killed the whole family of the man who was our target without a blink.

To my relief, that remained my last hunt. Soon afterwards, Mare Barrow electrocuted the Witch Queen, and my mother sidled into my room the moment she heard that news. She'd waited for Elara's demise for decades. Gloatingly, she hinted at the prophet she'd met, a strange man who looked forward to cooperate with Maven. A Newblood himself. He told the king where Mare Barrow intended to go and the king set forth, taking me and several others he handpicked to finally capture the Lightning Girl. And so we did.

 I was no longer dating any Silvers at the time, and Lucas Samos had been the last one. It had ended in June. I broke up with him when things became serious - for him at least. He said he loved me, that he wished for us to stay together. That alone made me uncomfortable - I had no romantic feelings for Lucas. Then he said it.

"... and once we've found a solution for your de-, um, problem, we might even get married. One day."

I stared at him.

The silence dragged on.

I could see his resolve faltering and his heart fracturing by the second. He hadn' believed I'd let him down. He wanted to argue. But as his mouth opened again, I stopped him.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

I brushed his cheek for one last time. "I can't marry you. And we would be better off if we stopped this right now."

"Cassie!"

I let go of him. "I'm sorry you thought there was a future for us when there isn't. Farewell, Luke." I turned away from his devastated face. I'd tried to be gentle, but a part of me was too angry. I wasn't defected. I didn't need to be healed, least of all to make a proper bride for a Silver to breed with.

To be honest, I wish I could have children sometimes, I don't resent the idea of having them one day. But I will neither let myself be reduced to my reproductive abilities, nor to my sexuality, I deduced as much and so, I stopped dating. Not only to avoid another heartbreak, but to keep men like Samson Merandus at bay, men who felt "entitled" to me. He is the worst one, he doesn't even notice how much he disgusts me with his lusting after me.

A few months later, Firebird went away to become an officer at the choke. I miss her, like the moon misses the sun. I walk in the dark when she isn't around me to remind me that life is more than fighting and intrigue, even though she isn't a much better person than me, deep down. She only hides her vindictive and calculating parts with easy smiles, make-up and pretty dresses. I don't think she's gone to Corvium without another motive but her military career. She has chosen her path, but where does this leave me? I'm not who I want to be.

 I stand before Mare Barrow. She ignores me, focused on her own thoughts and her small tries to stay strong despite her imprisonment, the torture she's been through, and the SIlent Stone weighing on her limbs. She's a fighter, she won't give up. I respect that. I respect everyone who tries to bend and break the rules which are caging us.

 Commentary:

Again, I want to apologize to everyone who feels offended or hurt by me telling the story of a rape victim. Feel free to critisize or bash me for the things I've done wrong. I want to learn.

I'm not saying Cassandra's way to cope is the right one, or a healthy one, but it is the one she's chosen. Not only her sexuality, but her vengeance too. Maybe her punishment is too lenient. But I imagine her as a woman who has no idea about the "accurate" way to deal with such a crime in a society that I assume to be victim-blaming, thus I have her act on her instincts alone, instincts which are attuned to never show weakness. I write about one fictional person, I'm not saying how rapists should be punished, or how victims have to behave. This story is not intended to be generalizing.

I see that I might have Cassandra over-sexualized, yet this is a personal story about a woman pondering about her sexuality. I tried to put in other themes as well, but I realize that might be too little. I hope one can still read into the rest of her character that I've created.

I'm not 100 % happy with the way I wrote the love story part, I'm not the greatest romantic writer. I've used a lot of Lana Del Rey quotes in that part, to be honest.