#but this is the most intense spell I've done and it takes the form of a note document in my book of shadows

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

In case anyone needs to hear it, sometimes spellwork looks like this and that's okay.

Like seriously the whole spell I recently did I was sat with Loki, wrapped up in a blankie cocoon, sipping my coffee (which is a glorified caffeinated chocolate milkshake.)

Loki was SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS SPELL y'all. Was insistent that I didn't even have to do "part two" bc "part one" was powerful enough. They told me it was a really big spell, and I honestly felt it- this was some intense work.

Part one was typing with intent and channeling Loki's energy into my intent since Loki wanted to be the main energy source. Literally I looked like that^ the whole time. Spellwork can look cozy if you want it too.

[writethrough]

The Diviner (Part V)

(Morpheus x Prophetess Reader)

Synopsis: Your body needs time to heal, but your unconscious is finally dreaming.

Warnings: None? (Message me if you see any.)

Word Count: 3219

A/N: Did you really think I'd leave you hanging a full week after that little blurb of a last chapter? I think I've more than made up for it with this sucker.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck it out with me. I really enjoyed hearing what you like about this series.

To everyone who has reblogged, you are spectacular humans and deserve an endless supply of your favorite food.

I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! I'd love to know what you thought of this series, and if I should post more multi-part fics in the future.

Series Masterlist

You wander. A maze of darkness before you.  

You exhale and remember Morpheus.  

A room appears, lit by stained glass, with a throne in the middle. And he's there, alive, staring at you in shock. 

—  

“I don’t understand,” you say. “How am I awake?”  

You were dying. At least it felt like you were dying. So, why are you...fine?  

“If I may?” Lucienne asks. Morpheus called for her as soon as he saw you.  

His chin dips a fraction, but it’s enough for Lucienne to continue.  

“Given your abilities, I believe the severity of your injuries—and healing in the Dreaming—has allowed your subconscious to manifest.” She smiles, pleased with her next words. “You’re dreaming, my lady.”  

Your brow furrows, and you glance from her to Morpheus.  

“How is that possible? If I’m healing, shouldn’t my mind be recovering as well?”  

“Your mind is the most resilient part of you, prophetess. It stands to reason it would need little to no time to replenish,” Morpheus says.  

Your eyes lower to the floor, considering this.  

For centuries, you’ve seen possible futures—travesties no one could imagine. And you haven’t forgotten one.  

Day in and day out, vision after vision, a constant rush of images, sounds, smells, and even sensations when intense enough. Your mind has built up a tolerance for nearly anything and everything.  

It seems almost dying is child's play for it though your body would be down for some time.  

You take in Morpheus’ throne room, truly seeing where you are. “I’m…dreaming.” And you laugh. In disbelief, in wonder—in sheer joy.  

You are dreaming.  

—  

Morpheus transported your body into his realm as soon as you fainted.  

Between your physical injuries and the attack meant for Morpheus, your only chance was the magic and tools in the Dreaming.  

Lucienne, Matthew, and Death helped him stabilize you, but he never expected you to walk right up to him as if you were fine.  

However your body absorbed the attack, it caused your powers to shut down, and you’re experiencing the Dreaming for the first time in centuries.  

You’re acting yourself mostly, but sometimes you grow tired, your physical form telling your unconscious you aren’t out of the woods yet.  

Morpheus urges you to take a seat, worry flashing through his eyes.  

“I’m okay,” you say. “It’s just a minor spell.”  

“I wish I could do more,” he says, hand still on the back of your bicep.  

“You’ve done plenty. More than I could ever hope for.”  

His jaw clenches, a twitch of movement, but you catch it. You’ve gotten better at picking up his micro-expressions.  

“I mean it, Morpheus. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.” You try to push as much conviction in the words as possible.   

“You wouldn’t have been in harm's way if it wasn’t for me.”  

You shake your head, dizzying yourself and need to rest it on your hand. Morpheus’ brow pinches slightly.  

“Warrens decided to trap you and use me. I should've predicted that.”  

“That’s not in your ability,” he says.  

“And I should’ve figured I'd be in danger when Death said you’d be fine. I should’ve known she saw me dying and not you.”

It clicked not longer after you woke up. Of course, Death knew what was supposed to happen.

“You must not focus on the past. It will do nothing to aid your recovery.”  

You sigh. “I know. I just feel so stupid.”  

Your eyes are downcast. It surprises you when a gentle touch lifts your chin and directs you to focus on him.  

“I will not have you speaking as if you’ve done something wrong,” he says. “Because of you, I am alive. I will forever be grateful.”  

He waits for an answer. All you can do is nod.  

His touch vanishes, and he stands.  

“Perhaps I can show you more of the Dreaming.”  

You give him a small smile. “I’d like that.”  

—  

Time moves differently in the Dreaming. It was best when you stopped trying to keep track of it. All you know is that you’ve been recovering for some time. Long enough for you to have your role carved out here and for the residents to call you by name.  

Your exhaustion and dizzy spells are few and far between, but they’re intense and accompanied by symptoms of visions. A faint smell, a phantom touch, even a whisper of a voice, but no matter how much you try, you can’t hang onto them. They slip through your fingers before you recognize what they are. It’s like you’re missing a limb.  

Today, the loss is affecting you more than you thought it could. You miss your ability. As much trouble as it can cause, you somehow feel untethered from yourself. Even with your body lying unconscious, you’re more of a shell now than ever.  

And as much as you try to hide it, somehow, Morpheus knows.  

“You will return to yourself,” he says.  

You’re sitting in Fiddler’s Green on a bench beneath a grove of magnolia trees.  

“It feels like it’s been years,” you say, rubbing your arm. You haven’t felt the breeze on your skin since the attack. You hardly notice it now as the grass moves with it.  

You can tell he’s about to respond, and you already know what he’ll say.  

“Don’t tell me ‘it takes time’ or ‘be patient.’ I’ve been patient. I’ve had to be patient since Destiny gave me this damn power, and now I can’t even access it because I missed the signs last time!” You rub your face, trying to push the frustration out.  

He lets you have your moment to feel that anger.  

“Immortality is crueler than death,” he begins. “It's companions are loneliness and waiting.”  

You look at him, scanning his features, and nod. Your agitation cools into sympathy. 

“I forget what happened to you sometimes. I’m sorry.”  

“I will not accept an unnecessary apology,” he says. “My experiences do not outweigh yours.”  

“Nevertheless, I’m free here. You weren’t.”  

He locks eyes with you, a softness to them. “I am also free.”  

It’s like he’s latched onto your soul. His timbre pulls you closer. And you realize you don’t feel so lost when he’s around.  

“Boss!”  

You lean back and look toward the sound, missing Morpheus’ eyes widening a fraction at Matthew’s interruption, too.  

“Boss! Death’s here.” Matthew lands in front of you.  

Your brow furrows, and your heart quickens. “Death’s here?”  

Why would Death be here? She wouldn’t come to the Dreaming if she didn’t have a good reason.  

What if she’s working? What if you aren’t improving and the Dreaming is masking your worsening condition?  

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, sensing your tension. He puts the pieces together quickly as he stands. 

“I requested she come.” He turns to you, voice tender, reassuring. “I wished to spend time with her.”  

—  

You haven't seen Death since you arrived.  

She and Morpheus urged you to stay even though you wanted to give them privacy. You forgot what it was like to have friends—to be close to others. It was nice.  

Then she whisked you away, telling Morpheus it was “girl time.”  

You’re strolling on one of the paths: one that extends as long as you can walk and leads to wherever you wish.  

You’ve had enough time to think about that day, your limitations, Death’s, what Warrens did to you…  

“You knew I’d be there,” you say.  

Neither of you stop walking. It’s not a surprise that you’ve brought this up.  

“That’s why you were surprised. Not because I had a vision of Morpheus, but because I was supposed to be there all along—because I was supposed to die—and you couldn’t interfere.”  

She grimaces. “I’m sorry.”  

You let out a breathy laugh. “I should be used to all the secrecy, but I’m not.” You pause. “And yet, I get it. Price of power and all that, I guess.”  

Now, she halts. “I know this won’t bring you comfort, but your being alive is a miracle.”  

“Then how am I…”  

“I don’t know. And that’s not something I say often,” Death says. “I can only speculate, but the day Destiny came to you—before that, he came to me and asked I keep you here. I didn’t ask why, but maybe this was meant to happen. You were the only one who could save my brother.”  

You shake your head. “I still don’t understand. Why give me this power at all? Why not just put me on the path so I could save Morpheus at the end? And how could you see my murder if you made that promise?”  

“Not even I am sure of that.” She answers your last question. “But: Is that not what Destiny did? Put you on that very path?” She pauses, then softly. “And gave you a purpose. One bigger than anyone should have, but a purpose nonetheless.”  

That thought runs around your head. 

Did Destiny do that? 

It's hard to imagine that being the reason. But why else would he— 

“Do you…Do you think Destiny gave me this power so I would survive?”  

You aren’t sure that makes sense. 

You. Out of everyone that could make a difference in the world, Destiny chose you.  

Death shrugs. “Again, I can’t be certain. But think about it, it brought you to Hob, to me," she gives you a knowing look, "to Dream.” 

You roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that I hated Morpheus for the longest time.”  

“Need I remind you that was in the past tense.” She grins.  

“So, you’re saying it’s harder to kill me than I originally thought,” you say, trying to change the subject.  

“None of that,” she tuts. “Even though it’s not under the best circumstances, I am happy you and Morpheus are getting to know one another.”  

You hum. “I spent so long not knowing what to feel for him—having all of these unanswered questions—it’s strange…to finally have that behind me.” You pause. “I enjoy his company.”  

“I would’ve used a stronger word than that,” she says, grinning cheekily. 

The tiny smiles Morpheus sent you and the glances you threw him could’ve made her squeal if she was the type.  

“Okay,” you wave her off, “enough.”  

She puts her hands up, yielding.  

You hesitate before telling her this next part.  

“I think—No, I know my visions are returning.”  

“That’s great!” She grabs your arm. “...Isn’t it?”  

“It’s just…They aren’t back yet. They’re not full visions. And I don’t know what that means. Or how long I’ll be like this.” You gesture to yourself.  

She smiles empathetically. “It means you’re getting better. I can only imagine how frustrating it’s been, but you are healing.”  

You nod. She’s right.  

She slips her arm into yours. “Now, let me tell you all the embarrassing stories about my brother.”  

You throw your head back and laugh.  

—  

It’s been a few days since then, you think. You and Morpheus have spent most of your time together. He’s become someone you care for deeply, and you wonder if he feels the same.  

You think he does when he pulls out your chair or helps you cross a stream. He’s interested in your life besides your visions. And when you told him about your family and loved ones throughout the years, he placed his hand atop yours. You could still feel it sometimes.  

You’re both in the library. A rare occurrence of rest brought Morpheus to curl up with you on the plush sofa. Well, you curled up. Morpheus has his feet on the floor but is leaning into the cushions.  

“I’ll have read everything in here by the time I wake up,” you joke, flipping your page.  

“I can feel your bouts of power when they rise. It will not be long now.”  

He always speaks so assuredly when it’s about your healing. His steadfastness has rubbed off on you. You aren’t so pessimistic about it anymore.  

You don’t notice you’re staring at him until he asks if something’s wrong.  

You shake your head. “No. I just don’t know what I would’ve done all this time if you weren’t here.”  

He faces forward, not staring at anything, and silence settles over you. The atmosphere shifts, and you can almost feel the tension coming from him.  

“There is no universe where I would have been elsewhere,” he says, as still as ever.  

And it’s his seriousness that makes you drop your light tone and scoot closer.  

“I know. And I appreciate that.” You glance at your fingers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  

“You haven’t.” He rests his hand on yours. “But know that you are my priority, and I am happy to have been by your side.”  

“Morpheus…” you lock eyes, “we’ve been over this. I hate that you feel obligated to help me.”  

His brows twitch inward. “I feel no such compulsions. I am grateful you saved my life, but I can never repay such sacrifice.” He pauses. “Your wellbeing is my concern as your…friend.”  

His thumb brushes your cheekbone as he searches your eyes.  

You pull your lips into a thin line, hoping he can’t feel the heat in your cheeks. “Just know that I wouldn’t change what I did. I wanted to save you—I needed to.”  

“You didn’t—”  

“I did!” You say almost desperately. “You’re the only connection I have to my past. You’re the only one who knows who I was. I can’t lose you…”  

You’re afraid to look him in the eye, but he lifts your chin with a slightly hooked finger, tenderness in his gaze.  

“You won’t.”  

He pulls his hand away, and you realize how much closer you both have gotten.  

“You can’t promise that, though,” you whisper.  

“No. I cannot. But I can promise that ritual is gone.”  

You clench your jaw. “That won’t stop me from worrying.”  

“Then you know how I feel.”  

He says it like a joke—mirthful—a tone that’s both strange and welcome in him.  

You roll your eyes halfheartedly. “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine.”  

“I will stop worrying when you’re awake,” he says. “Until then, I will watch over you.”  

A slight shiver runs down your spine. Morpheus' entire focus on you always makes you a little weak, but hearing him say those words? They almost send your knees buckling.  

“I don’t understand. Why have you been so insistent about this?”  

Something seems to settle in his eyes, his head tipping closer.  

“When you were writhing in pain—screaming—something came over me that hasn’t in a long while.”  

You tilt your head, waiting.  

“Fear.”  

“What?” you whisper.  

The back of his fingers grazes your cheek, lingering, caressing.  

“I feared I would lose you.” He’s searching you, analyzing every twitch and passing emotion.  

“Morpheus,” you start, “what are you saying?”  

The corner of his lips lift briefly.  

“You’ve become important to me,” he breathes. “My prophetess.”  

His lips are so close to yours. A moment more, and they’d touch. But as much as you want this, you stop him.  

“I don’t want our first kiss to be when I’m dreaming,” you say. “I want it to feel real because…you’ve become important to me, too.”  

Softly, he rests his forehead against yours.  

“I will wait as long as I must. Knowing you feel the same is enough.”  

—  

Your dizziness has been nonexistent these past couple of weeks. You’ve been able to help Lucienne in the library much more. However, this morning, if you could even call it that in the Dreaming—it’s like you’ve been getting hit from all sides.  

A breeze on your cheek while you were indoors.  

A shimmering red when you paged through a book.  

And whispered words of “regret this” and mumblings you couldn’t decipher.  

But this is your strongest one yet.  

It’s not images or scents, not even a noise, but an expansive, all-encompassing feeling blooming within your chest. You swear you’ll burst when Lucienne sees you steadying yourself against a table.  

She says your name. “Are you alright?”  

The feeling keeps getting bigger and bigger, and then Lucienne seems so far away, then the entire library. And you realize it’s time.  

“I think…I think I’m waking up.”  

A moment after you spoke, it feels like you're falling backward.  

Your eyes open with a quick inhale, and you look around.  

You’re in a bed, and everything feels so much more tangible. There are soft sheets, a comforting breeze from the open window, and that unmistakable feeling of something new beginning.  

You slowly rise, but where you thought there would be soreness, none comes.  

You've healed.  

You laugh in disbelief, running out of the room and to the one person you need to see.  

He’s creating dreams, something you’d usually take a moment to marvel at, but you can’t seem to give a damn.  

He glances over his shoulder, lips ticking up when he sees you.  

He’s about to speak. Then, his eyebrows twitch downward when you don’t stop walking, and you barely contain your smile before you kiss him.  

It takes him no more than a moment to grip your waist and pull you closer. To feel him like this instead of those phantom pressures, it's indescribable.   

You reluctantly retreat, and he stares at you with this kind of awe, tracing the back of his knuckles down your cheek, his features brighter than you’ve ever seen.   

“How are you feeling?” he asks.   

You take a moment before answering. “I’m okay. Everything feels…stronger now.” You give him a small smile. “Real.”  

“Not many have visited the Dreaming as you are,” he says. “If you’re overwhelmed, please tell me.”  

You shake your head fondly. “Not overwhelmed, just…happy.”  

“I am glad.”  

Your hands rest on his chest as you stare at him, too thrilled to care that maybe you should say something. But all you want to do is look at him—feel him now that you’re back in your body.  

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind.  

He’s gripping your hips, the lightest of touches, yet it almost burns you in the best way possible. His thumb grazes one side, grabbing your attention. Like he knows you’re daydreaming. 

“I must give you something,” he says.  

He reaches within his coat, and in his palm is a gold band embedded with a ruby, a piece of Morpheus’ Dreamstone.  

“Stay with me,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “Come and go as you please, but always return. To your home.” He pauses. “To me.”  

You stare at him, eyes wide with wonder and glistening.  

“Yes,” you breathe, beaming.  

He strokes your cheekbone with his thumb before cupping it fully and slotting his lips between yours.  

You giggle. “I have to say I really didn’t see this coming.”  

If Morpheus was one to roll his eyes, he would have.  

“Do not make me regret this.”  

The lit in his voice pulls a playful gasp from you.  

“It’s too late. You can’t change your mind,” you say, eyes alight.  

His warm smile sends gooseflesh up your arms.  

“Never,” he whispers.  

Destiny has strange ways of working, but after centuries of unanswered questions, you finally think you understand why he chose you.  

Maybe the eldest Endless has a softer spot for his younger brother than any of you realize.

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @under-kitty

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[windvexer]

Hey! Got a question if you don't mind.

So ive been working with one of my deities for over a year, maybe 2, and she has been such a wonderful presence. Shes kind, gentle, and really helps me get through stuff. She gives me wonderful advice and is like a mother to me. The vibes are always peaceful and safe.

Recently i asked her how i can grow stronger in my craft and give my spells a bigger punch. Since i don't feel comfortable with something like an animal sacrifice, she suggested i offer a few drops of my own blood. She explained that creating a bond with her in that way could allow her to help more, and that there is no way she'd ever take something like life force or anything, only the physical blood and nothing else. I felt safe about her request and liked the idea.

Now i haven't done it yet but someone told me today that i shouldn't do that, that its very dangerous and my deity is out to get me.

I know this is most likely fear mongering, but it still scared me. What is your opinion? Do you agree this person doesn't know what their talking about or do you think i should be worried? Thanks

Things which have more power are not inherently evil, and entities which engage in that power are not automatically liars and parasites.

Feeding your blood to any entity (or however it's framed - offering, sacrificing, etc) isn't something to be done lightly, because it does create a stronger bond between you and that thing. I strongly recommend asking your goddess if there are going to be new levels of commitment and engagement that are created if you take this path. Sometimes, feeding of blood can be initiatory in ways we don't expect - and it has nothing to do with "taking life-force."

But the idea that the gods know how to form stronger links with individual humans, and sometimes agree to engage in that practice, doesn't mean they are "out to get us."

Asking a god how to make your spells stronger, and they recommend something widely and popularly known to make spells stronger, is IMO not a red flag or even a leap in logic.

You didn't say whether or not you're a witch, but you did message a witchcraft blog, so:

I believe that if accumulating power is your aim, there's really only so far you can go without starting to make some serious commitments.

Feeding your blood to an entity with the goal of forming a stronger bond and empowering your magic is a commitment, no doubt about it.

But that's what it is. It's a sacrifice. It's sorcery. You used spiritual techniques to work with your god and discover the next step forward. You use learning to understand the significance and impact of blood in magic. You choose to travel down that path and see where it takes you, or you decline and seek other options.

I don't want to decry your friend. Maybe they've had very bad personal experiences with blood magic. I have, that's for sure. I've also had bad experiences with letting the wrong entities in. But my pitfalls weren't so much a blood magic thing as it was a 20-year-old-idiot-realizes-magic-is-real, predictable-results-ensue sort of thing.

So I say think it through, consider your options, and do what feels right. Just be prepared for things to maybe get a little more intense than you thought they would.

But there's no way to get around that part. Stronger magic lends itself to more intense experiences. There's no way to dive into the deep end while staying dry.

[elminx]

2024 Year in Review

2024 was an intense year for me (and for most of us, I suspect). I like to look back at my year and see what happened because my memory is a bit weird, and without documentation, I can convince myself that I did absolutely nothing this year.

Since this is my public-facing account, I will talk here about the public side of things. The biggest thing that happened for me this year was that Meta announced they are now using all public content on their sites (Facebook, Insta, and Threads) to train their AI, which caused me to lock down all of my photography content. This sucks because I've been selling photography for years now, and (Instagram, especially) that's a way for new clients to find me.

Plus, I'm the kind of person who needs interaction with my art. I wish that I wasn't (and I definitely do make art entirely for myself). But I photograph things to share with other people. I needed an outlet. After some careful research, it turns out that Tumblr is one of the few sites that protects artists from AI crawlers!

So, I made myself an art page:

It's still in its infancy, but I'm proud of it. It's only my cemetery photography from Massachusetts, and I may end up making a second page for other photography I take, but I'm pretty happy with how this is going.

Here on my witchier side of Tumblr, I mostly posted about astrology (all transit stuff), Numerology, and Cottage Craft (food and projects).

I soup posted a bunch about French Onion soup for banishment, turning soup into a harvest ritual, and the soup I make when I'm too sick to witch about it.

Other random kitchen posts were about my Anti-Anxietea, Pesto to Beat the Winter Blues, my long-form lemonade recipe for cleansing and clearing out your space:

I wrote a lot about Numerology and have actually created a masterpost for this work that I will try to keep up with.

My favorite magical revelation for the year was in learning to create candles out of egg-shell molds to work the intentions of new beginnings - this is a practice I intend to incorporate into my life every spring around the Spring Equinox. I have plans for this concept; expect to see more as we roll into the new year.

I've also done quite a bit of work increasing my astrological offerings over on my Kofi site. You can get a natal birth chart reading, a transit report reading (comparing your birth chart to the month's transits), synastry (astrological compatibility) readings, or readings focused on how your chart aligns with the planets from a more magically minded perspective.

I have some big writing plans for the new year. I've been meaning to write about Naming for a while now, but it's tricky to quantify because I had to teach it to myself. I'd like to continue my series on Numerology since it gets so maligned in a lot of the magical community, and it's such a good resource for spell crafting. I still have a bunch of recipes I'd like to share, and I'd like to continue to document the parts of my practice that I can share and make public.

That said, I'm curious, friendly reader - what would you like to see more of from me in the year ahead? Feel free to respond to this, send me an ask, or a PM. You never know what could spark a whole series or maybe just a rant.

I hope all of our New Year's are kind.

-Minx

[lovesick-panmess]

It was a very slow recovery. Given the strain his body had been under for so long, it was inevitable. It gave the soft-shell too much time to think.

There are many things for Donnie to be angry about, the time wasted, that damn mystic spell that tapped him, the damaged done to not only himself but to his family (though that was all his fault, his fault, his fault). Still Donnie was likely most enraged by the fact that not all of his memories were present.

Listening to the recount as if he wasn't actucally there and only ever to look at half of the full picture, it felt maddening. The unspoken but palpable anguish in Leo's eyes, the hollow hiss of Mikey's reassurance tinged with the subtlety of his own invisible suffering, and Raph's intense but expressionless gazes revealed a great deal about his innermost feelings. The fact that Donnie was the one who caused his siblings to suffer made it much more agonizing to watch them go through it.

This was what the genuis was trying to avoid! Keeping it all a secret, attempting to dispose of the key...

Donatello was burdened by an overwhelming sense of guilt that he couldn't seem to escape. He had always been the one to find solutions, to fix things, but this time he had come up short. He had let down his brothers and his family. It was his responsibility, a miscalculation that he had no way of foreseeing, but that could not be justified.

He let out a sigh of frustration, hunching over as his body made it clear that he hadn't fully recovered to the point of indulging in self-pity. The relentless pounding in the back of his head seemed never-ending, and the harsh, blaring light inside the medbay only intensified the pain. He knew that if he called on his brothers, they would immediately rush to his help.

Just like they did on the other side of the lake, an endless cycle of support and protection. His family calling out to him against his own wrapped mind. The lake was convincing, made it all easier to pump Donnie up with lies. Made him eager to fight against them. Eager to do them harm.

No matter how much he wanted to avoid it, maybe he deserved to suffer alone this time.

Nevertheless, there was mercy somewhere out there, or Donnie had a shitton of good karma built up. Whichever it was, assistance arrived in the form of Raphael.

"Hey Dee..what's the matter? Are the lights bothering you again?" The gentle tone of the snapping turtle was comforting, as it was already relieving the pains that were about to overwhelm him. Donnie gives a sharp nod, prompting Raph to take action. "Okay, buddy. I've got you."

The room is elisped into darkness, he could hear the steady steps of his brother, no longer muffled by the grass or by the water. Words clog themselves deep within his throat, he doesn't know what to say, luckily with Raph he never needs to force himself. He feels the gentle hand on his head, "Don't worry about it Dee. Let's just relax and watch somethin."

Time passes, not that Donnie is really registering it, he's still not used to be so aware of it. He stares at the wall mostly and then at the screen. The headache is gone now and he feels well enough to actually sit up, he sees Raph briefly glance at him with a smile before turning his attention back to the movie. His big brother's body curled up at the edge, his tail swaying gently in rhythm with of soundtrack, creating a cozy atmosphere. The scene brings a sense of comfort and familiarity, reminding him of all the times they've spent together.

He enjoyed this kind of time with Raph, where there was no need for loud conversation between them. It brings warmth to the middle of his chest, filling him with a deep sense of contentment. As he watches Raph engrossed in the movie, he can't help but let his eyes wander, noting every scar and chip on the spiked shell.

It makes sense, as each mark tells a story of battles fought and victories won, reminding him of the strength and resilience that Raph possesses. The love his big brother feels to protect them with quite literally all his being, is immeasurable.

Donnie's eyes trail downward, to the side and notices a chip that wasn't there before, he feels his heart sinking. He forces himself, trying to rememeber any time before where Raph could have gotten it but it's hard when all the memories just show his brutality. The way he had mercilessly attacked his opponents (his brothers, it was only ever his brothers), leaving no room for lenience or compassion.

Donnie hugs his legs tightly to his chest, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of his painful realization. He mutters a soft 'sorry' that doesn't really sound like him, his throat dry and scratchy from the lack of talking. Raph looks over, confused while handing him a glass of water, "huh? What did you say, Dee?"

Donnie takes the glass, looks down at the sheets, and drinks greedily without saying a word. While setting the glass down and continuing to avoid making eye contact with his brother, he is aware of the lingering bitter taste of regret. "I said..I'm sorry.."

"Uh…For what?" Raph asked, having the absolute audacity to be confused, tilting down to properly face Donnie. Leave it to his brother, to not understand everything he's trying to apologize for and will have to keep apologizing till the end of time. For now though Donnie tries to keep it simple, his voice still low, "For the chip in your shell. I'm sorry."

Still looking bewildered, the snapping turtle keeps looking over at the ones he can see, which is making Donnie's heart hurt even more. The look on Raph's face changes to one of understanding and firmness as he says, "Donnie, that wasn't your fault." In a tone that almost makes Donnie believe it, but he doesn't, he can't.

"How is it not my fault?" Even though his hands were the ones responsible, Donnie's voice cracks as he searches for an answer within them. Even though tears are clouding his vision, he keeps going "I attacked you guys! Repeatedly. I broke Leo's wrist, I almost killed you guys on multiple occasions, I hurt you, I didn't-"

"Donnie. Stop." Raph interrupts, his voice trembling as he firmly grasps Donnie's shoulder, a strong and stabilizing grip, his face softening. "Stop, okay? That's not.." As Raph searches for the right things to say, he falters, his beak twisting. "You can't blame yourself for things that happned when you weren't in control!"

Distantly Donnie remembers a time where it was the other way around, where there was a door between them and all he could do was hope Raph was still listening. He wasn't good at these things like MIkey, but he can try. For Raph he would do the impossible. "It's not like you wanted to hurt us Raph!"

"You didn't want to do any of those things!" Donnie tries to shake the feeling of déjà vu as Raph goes on, "You were just- You just-" With his expression turning sour, Raph shifted his gaze from Donnie to the bed, closing his eyes and drawing his hands away. Donnie tries not to whine at the loss of touch, once again watching his brother suffer, "We know you would never hurt any of your little brothers, if you had a choice-" Raph's voice breaks, and the words he speaks are full of pain and understanding.

Raph appears to be terrified of something that isn't there when he opens his eyes again, as if he were lost at sea. "It's not…it wasn't your fault. Please Dee…" Silent grief floods the room, "don't say it was mine" remain unsaid. Donnie shuffles closer, head butting gently against Raph's plastron, "You're right. I shouldn't blame myself.." The mental assault of 'your fault, your fault, your fault' never stops, hypocrisy melting on his tongue.

"Thanks Raph." That he really does mean it, seeing Raph's trembling hands hesitating before they quickly wrap around him in a tight hug.

Maybe they'll both believe it one day.

----

Thank you so much @tangledinink for letting me write this and inspiring me! I have been a silent viewer for a bit and glad to finally contribute in some way. I hope you enjoyed it as I did writing it! :) It was very fitting to listen to classical music while writing it haha

i wonder how guilty donnie will feel when he remembers attacking his brothers…..

he was going to. but then he decided against it.

[ swanatello ] [ prev episode ] [ next episode ]

[lorkai]

I'd love to request Mammon, Satan, and Levi where readers on their period and having terrible cramps.

I have a tilted uterus, which can cause my cramps to spread to my legs, my worst ones can spread down to my ankles.

A/N: Oh dear, I've done a little research on this and it can be quite painful. I hope these headcanons serve as a form of comfort for you and that you enjoy them! I didn't include the reader having a tilted uterus because you didn't mention whether or not you wanted it in the request, but if you want I can edit it! :)

Mammon can be dense or slow with many things. Except he really does pay attention to you, even if he's never going to admit it, you're the most precious person he's ever had after all. He wants to admire you for a few seconds, that's all! But he can see the way you're shivering in place and holding your stomach tightly, like you're in intense pain. He's super worried, especially if you don't tell him what's going on. He tries to convince Lucifer to let you skip school and lighten your workload, but he fails. Poor boyo is doing everything he can to help you whether or not you say you're on your period.

Honestly he doesn't know much about periods and why they happen, and honestly he's panicking, you're bleeding for a really weird place that shouldn't bleed! Anyway for you he will sit down and learn as much as he can about the subject. And since he's your first it's only fair if he buys you pain medicine, pads or tampons, lots of water bottles and candy. He can also massage your feet, back and abdomen if it hurts a lot. 

And he doesn't really know if doing all of that helps, but he'd do it all over again just to see you smile a little instead of hearing you grunt in pain every five minutes and tossing and turning in bed with the cramps from hell. You know... If you ask him to cuddle you he'll accept, of course, he's your first one, it's only fair for him to do that. Don't ask anyone else please mc. 

--

Leviathan rarely notices anything other than the games he plays so diligently. But he's going to realize that something happened to you eventually if you don't respond to his various texts, he's likely to grumble all the way to your room and have a sour expression on his face after all you abandoned your anime marathon with him, but that will disappear when you open the door and he sees your face filled with pain. He was the general of the Celestial Realm before and is now the admiral of the Devildom navy, he knows how to treat wounds and stuff like that, he even knows spells to stop cramps, so he'll ask you some questions about how you feel, trying find out what is wrong. 

For someone like Levi who consumes a lot of manga, games and anime it's not uncommon for him to know what you're going through as soon as you tell him you're on your period, but it's just so weird for him. He swore he thought this whole period thing was just an anime cliché or something. It's real? Are you bleeding... from that place? You're not going to die, are you?

Levi does what you ask, even though he's feeling more ashamed than you are at all times. And if you want to cuddle him or have him sing you a song to put you to sleep, he'll combust instantly. His heart can only take so much. Still, when he's comfortable with the situation and is sure you're not going to die from internal bleeding he'll softly hum the TLS opening while rubbing your belly gently. He may whisper an "I love you MC" very quietly when he's sure you've slept.

--

Satan knows a lot about a lot of different subjects, and he's also the calmest and most observant of his brothers. He knows you're not okay just by the way you're walking to the breakfast table, the rigid way you're sitting is also another indication that something is wrong with you. He'll probably call you over to chat away from the prying ears of his brothers to give you some pain medicine. Whether or not you tell him about your period, he will be there to remind you to rest and drink plenty of water.

You might not realize it and he really wants you not to, but Satan is checking on you during classes and break to make sure you're okay. Sweet boy won't hesitate to pull you somewhere more secluded if he sees your condition getting worse and he'll drag you home if you're stubborn enough to say you're not okay, you were the first human that he really liked, so he wants to help you and has the best of intentions, cooperate with him a little bit, MC!

Still, he's a little fascinated with human anatomy. He will probably study a little more about it later, for now he gives you all the support you need and does his best to keep your pain and mood intact. And if you're a cat-loving person, you can bet he'll sneak a cat into the house to comfort you, after all cats are cute and their purr puts people at ease, did you know that, MC?

All in all, he'll fluff your pillows and listen to you vent if you wants to. His company is quiet and gentle, reading to you in a low, quiet voice as he holds your hand and rubs his thumb over your skin. If there's something you want him to do, he'll do it. Mostly getting under the covers and cuddling you until the two of you are a mess of limbs curled over each other.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Saw you've been sucked into the MMO life in the form of FFXIV and I was wondering if you had any input into the debate I've been having about what class archetypes tfw would play. I think Sam would be most likely to tank because it requires a reasonable amount of leadership and is also more of a quiet, backbone type role compared to dps. Dean seems more the type to be singularly focused on the big damage hits tbh. He also tends to take more of the charging in and fighting role in their normal life with Sam being the one reading up on everything more carefully and being his backup. Which leaves Cas as healer which may just be me projecting because I play healer/support at every opportunity but literal angel healing aside I think that sorta fits too, he cares a lot for them and tries to keep them safe and shield them as best he can in their adventures? Idk half formed thoughts please completely contradict me if you want I'm genuinely curious about other people's opinions here

Heyooo :D It is less sucked into and more like I’ve returned to the warm cushiony nest of MMOs lol

If you’d asked me back when I was a WoW player I’d have fully agreed because you could only have one class per character and these are definitely the snap decisions that the fam would make when on the character screen. Dean would grab the sexiest DPS, Sam the stoutest tank especially as he’s the one who has read into the classes and strats beforehand, and Cas would ask what to do and be given the healer role because the other two in this scenario would know better about the game and sort of lump it onto him like, oh, we need a healer and you can do this.

(In my own gaming journey, this is what my friends and brother did to me, as they needed a healer to round out their party... I took druid because it was spoopy, and discovered in WoW that while you can’t change classes you can pay gold to respec your character’s role within that class... Promptly re-specced to a melee dps/tank feral druid instead of the healer one, and had a lot more fun :D)  

In FFXIV you can take all the classes on your character (which I have done, natch) and it’s a much more interesting levelling approach, especially seeing how my friends playing the game have gone when it comes to taking classes as they level and why they claim to have tried and then rejected others. It’s an enormous personality test, even for peeps like me and my brother who have all the classes up at max level, which ones we prioritised and which ones we sort of struggled with or found a bit meh. 

Hm so in the scenario that Charlie comes bursting into the Bunker demanding that she needs some friends for dungeons and raids and they’re all sitting on their asses scrolling the internet between a case, they can bloody well play final fantasy with her for a bit, let’s go for some headcanons :D Long because FFXIV has become my current obsession and I have the same in-depth feels about it as I do about SPN but I just never get to write about them with anyone... 

First off, Sam of course has deep nerdery about it and will ask Charlie a ton of questions about what the right class to play is and do the same thing as we’ve already discussed and go for Paladin (which starts as gladiator), and also take all the crafting and gathering side classes because he’s a nerd and you learn nonsense lore while doing it. He’s also in the same starting zone as Thaumaturge which transitions to Black Mage and I BET he’d be tempted to have a little safe witch!Sam emotional release on the most un-Sam class. It’s the big unwieldy spell caster whose literal class quests and stuff make fun of how you’re small and squishy and will be standing in a very bad spot debating whether to finish a long-cast spell and get hit or stop DPS and run for safety. I think he could do with the perspective and learning to be selfish either way to blow off steam from tanking and also learn to prioritise himself IRL :’D Also the paladin quest is WEIRDLY pro-cop from 30 onwards for some reason until the writers saw sense and just. stopped. doing paladin stuff and went back to the Gladiator storyline for the class quests, so idk if he’d enjoy that or start to question other things. Whatever it is he’s getting challenged XD

At 60 he grabs Gunbreaker because it sounds more cool and is thankfully way less emotionally stressful tanking as it’s entirely about being a badass bodyguard and sick flips. This is far more aspirational for Sam, especially as he could just tie a knife to a sawn off shotgun and do these moves for real in his day job. He won’t, but like with black mage, the thought that he COULD is very emotionally satisfying to him.

He might also have decided to check out scholar to see how healing is but idk if he would be able to handle Dean teasing him for having a fairy follow him around so he’d only dabble with the nerd class on the side :P  

Now, Dean can’t take ninja until level 10 or machinist (gun shooty DPS class) until 50, so his start point as DPS would either be pugilist (eeeey brass knuckle class!) or the other DPS classes to start with are Thaumaturge/Black Mage, Arcanist/Summoner, Archer or Lancer. Now. He’d probably think the first two are sissy because magic is for girls/arcanists literally only have a book as a weapon. Archer becomes bard and I think is ultimately a place he’d be very happy as it is a very supportive class to the whole party and basically the mom friend class. But I would love if he went lancer/dragoon because the level 50 class weapon is (folklore inspired name) “Gae Bolg” and every time I equip it I can’t help giggling at the name even though I know it’s a real thing and I shouldn’t. But. Like. It’s the class about waving enormous lances around. It’s got Implications, and Dean is drawn to those. 

He’d probably, however, take rogue/ninja as soon as he could because stabbing things with knives, and the class trainer is the kinda guy who’d have wild gay tension with him while they both try to boast about women to each other, were they to meet irl. Ironically, the rogue trainer (a womanising charmer) and the ninja trainer (an intense, honourable guy bad at social cues even among his own people who ends up falling from grace and choosing to stay in the vicinity of said rogue trainer) are an interesting pair of NPCs to teach Dean about where to stick knives. :) 

He’d go back and power-level dragoon once he starts Heavensward though, because Aymeric is also super intense with messy dark hair and big blue eyes that see right through you. :D He’s getting that gae bolg for him, you know? 

If they’re going to bully Cas to be their healer, he’d probably get really dedicated to the discipline especially as he can stay up all night to play and doesn’t need to take breaks to pee so he’d probably level conjurer/white mage (nature healing) and scholar (ancient book lore with a class quest which mixes ancient curses on a whole people, family drama and a bit of interspeciesish love) and then also pick up astrologian, which is good because it’s spooky star and making your own fate magic. The storyline for that is garbage in the sense that it’s really weakly written, but my favourite character randomly picks up AST in the latest expansion, and has an absolutely fucking wild subtextual romance with another character, including SPN level adopting of a random child who matches Jack in many respects, with said character. And in many respects emotionally they’re Cas and Dean but without any of the personal baggage between them specifically so they really are just chill and married, whatever else they’re stressed about (I say, dreading the next patch is going to finally bring up some questions about what is going on with them as it’s getting weirdly conspicuous while still utterly unsaid). So I would hope if Cas started projecting onto an astrologian character it would be him :P 

Cas also would get into summoner as the other branch of scholar because honestly those two classes are about as close to the random sigil drawing and reading things from books etc analogy to his own occult magic, except you can summon cool dragons and elementals to fight for you. 

they’d buy Jack a boost to 60 and he’d pick up dark knight and white mage probably just to subtly fuck with Dean 

(I am still not over Dean trying to test him to see if he was evil or not by whether he chose devil or angel cake) 

[kaepop-trash]

the miscellaneous are back! please ever since you made doyoung an absolute no in of snakes and lions i've been a mess. i need more of him anything but maybe doyoung and oc getting together or breaking up? i know i shouldn't but i feel so sad for him.

The Miscellaneous never left! My inbox is always open for them. Send any whenever you want, if you’re curious about something about the character. I can’t promise to always be as quick to reply as I was with this, I just happened to have some time and and the moment I read your ask the idea came to me. But irrespective, I will reply to all asks.

I did both getting together and breaking up. I was hoping this both justifies you feeling bad for him but also explains why it was one of the doomed ones. Kim Doyoung truly my king of doomed romances (haha) In case you want a genuinely well-written story that has a lot of similar elements but has Doyoung as the main lead, you should go read @notnctu‘s hogwarts au Push&Pull. It was incredible and I’m still not over it. For now, here’s what you wanted.

--

"No." (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

"No?" Doyoung raised his.

"No." She repeated herself.

Doyoung frowned, caught off-guard by her response. He chewed on the flesh inside his mouth till it was swollen.

He took a struggling breath, trying to keep his voice patient. "I'm asking you out on a date, (Y/N). After we've been sleeping together for three months. And you're saying no?" 

"Precisely." She didn't seem phased.

"Why?" His brows furrowed further, a look only Kim Doyoung could pull off.

"Because." She blinked twice, fluttering her gaze away from his intense stare, "You're clearly infatuated with that Gryffindor girl. You have been since 7th year. Sex is fine. But I'm not going to be anybody's emotional substitute." She stared at the grains of the wooden table before looking out the window, the library overlooking the grounds.

"You aren't a substitute. I used to like Jisoo." He sat down on the chair beside her.

She scoffed, turning to him. "And now, what? You like me? Why because I let you fuck me when she won't?" She scoffed again, a lump forming in her throat despite herself.

"No." He put his hand on her cheek, turning her to face him. "Because we're the same, you and I. Because I thought that you understood that I was falling for you despite me having to say it. Because despite myself, I found myself coming back to you over and over." He blinked.

A bitter smile formed on her lips, "I don't want to be someone a person likes despite their better judgement."

Doyoung groaned, "You're making this so much harder than it needs to be." He frowned again.

"Good." She interjected. "I didn't ask for this." She groaned herself when her vision blurred from tears she tried to blink away.

She hated him. 

She hated him for kissing her that one night three months ago in the library. She hated him for leaving without a word and then coming back the next day for more. She hated him for saying all the right things in her ears while he was deep inside her. But most of all she hated herself for allowing herself to grow feelings for him while knowing better.

"Please." His voice was a soft plea, it made her heart flutter. "Just try it. Go out with me once." He took her cold hands in his clammy ones, the heat spreading through her, "If at any point I do anything to hurt you then put some dreadful potion in a glass and give it to me. Or hex me. But don't just push this away without giving it a try." 

She knew this would be wrong. She knew she should say no. But against her better judgement, she kissed him instead.

_

Doyoung knew that out of all the way to deal with fights, walking away wasn't the best. But he also knew himself, he knew it was better than saying things he did not mean in a moment's anger.

He drew in an irritated breath, frustrated with everything. Everything was impossibly hard with (Y/N). They both felt with equal ferocity but stayed silent about most things. It was one of the similarities they had that had turned into a vice over the years; a long relationship of bitter things left unsaid till it was spat in a fit of rage. 

He looked over the viaduct at the gaping precipice it stood over. Caught off-guard by the sound of shuffling footsteps as they came and stood beside him. He wasn't sure how he missed it.

"Oh hey it is you! I was wondering if I was seeing correctly." A voice he knew too well made him look away from the edge to upturned eyes.

He hadn't seen her in a while, the castle was large enough for that to happen sometimes, but age only made Jisoo more beautiful. He blushed when he realised he was staring at her.

"I haven't seen you ever since I dropped potions for divination. I used to think the castle wasn't that big, but I guess not huh?" She bumped her shoulder with his as she placed her elbows on the balustrade, looking down at where he was looking before. "What are we looking at?" She questioned, eyes focusing on searching whatever he was looking at.

"Nothing." He spoke too soon, his voice too gruff.

She looked up at him, lips parted and eyes wide. Then something seemed to click inside, "Oh. I interrupted some deep thought, didn't I?" She winced.

"No!" He defended, again too quick. He cleared his throat, looking away and trying to level his voice, "Nothing too deep." He dismissed.

She scoffed, “You’re always thinking something deep. You’re the smart one.” Her words stirred something inside Doyoung. 

He cursed himself.

"You look good, Doyoung." Her words made his neck snap to face her. She bit her lip, fluttering her gaze away from his. He noted the pink tint of her cheeks, eyes furrowing in confusion.

What was going on?

Jisoo took a step back from the edge, her form lingering as she turned to him, "It was nice to see you again Doyoung. Really nice. You've really grown into yourself." Her eyes brushed against his shoulders and it was his turn to blush.

"Thank you." The words were spat out, distracted. She gave him one last breathtaking smile before turning and walking into the fog that had settled on the grounds.

_

Doyoung was sure he had forgotten to breathe when he heard his door open. (Y/N) stood at the door, first with a look of devastation in her eyes and then nothing. Her hand gripped the handle so tight that it creaked under the assault.

"(Y/N), baby." He pushed Jisoo off his lap with a swift motion. Getting out of his bed and following her while she walked out of his rooms and to the stairs. Not caring that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"(Y/N)!" He cried out, grabbing her arm desperately. A pain shot through the arm he used to grab her, noticing her wand in the other hand.

“Touch me again and I will honour your promise and hex you. Go back to your room, Doyoung. You are shirtless and have an erection. Don’t embarrass yourself and more importantly, do not embarrass me.” Her eyes welled up but her voice was hollow.

Panic clawed up Doyoung’s throat till it burned worse than his arm, “Darling, please.” He begged, grabbing her shoulder. He flew back from another unspoken spell, hitting the wall beside his door with a loud thud and a vicious crack in his arm. He sat helplessly and heard the echoes of her rushing down the stairs of the tower.

When he walked back into the room, Jisoo was sitting at the edge of his bed. Her shirt still had the buttons of the top half open, her chest exposed.

“You’re hurt.” She looked at her arm, twisted at an excruciating angle.

“Leave.” His voice was frigid.

She ignored his words, “Let me look at your arm.” She got up.

“Get out, Jisoo.” He repeated with more anger. Her steps faltered.

She looked up at him, her eyes fighting between guilt from what happened and the hurt his voice made her feel, “She’s gone, Doyoung.” She felt small as the words left her, “I’m still here.” She took a few steps closer.

“Exactly.” He spat the word at her, “I was wrong. I made a mistake. Now she’s gone.” There was a passing pain in his eyes, one that turned to bitter ice when they met hers, “And you’re still here.” While he felt utterly ashamed at the moment, it was easier to lash out on the person in front of him.

“Doyoung.” Her voice quivered as tears fell from her eyes, “Please.” She looked to the floor.

“You aren’t her, Jisoo. You’re just a beautiful face I was infatuated with my entire childhood. (Y/N) is my other half, you can’t be that.” He turned away from her, searching for his shirt on the floor.

“Then why?” She whispered, “Why did you sleep with me? Why did you do it thrice?” Her voice gained in volume and hatred. Doyoung was glad he wasn’t in front of her when the words made him wince.

He looked up at her and shrugged, “I told you. I wanted to know how it would feel to have what I wanted for so many years. It wasn’t that great.” He tried to keep his eyes bored.

She stared at him in disbelief before biting down her jaw. She looked away and buttoned her shirt back up, “Then I guess you just saved two people from wasting their time on a vile person like you.” She looked up when she was done. He suppressed the effect of the sting her words caused again, giving her nothing in his eyes. She huffed one last time, picking up what she had left of her dignity and left with the head held high.

Doyoung slowly sat down on his bed, putting his head on the palm of one hand, while his broken arm stayed limp beside him. Taking a shaky breath, he let the pain that seared from the fractured bone feel like a well-deserved punishment..

[thelastpilot]

Piiiiiiloooooooooot!!!! You're making me sad! I've been waiting to hear you talk about your story since you got on your plane and said you'd write something big up later XD

haha yes! Okay I’m sorry i totally forgot about that when the world exploded, and then i sat on this ask for a while longer to consider the question. I’d like to say that i have so much all fleshed out but I really don’t, so I think I’ll just highlight some story ideas that I have in general as I grapple my inability to write stuff, or rather the hesitation revolving around STARTING (ironic since that was one of the things I gave the most advice about, and looking back on it, I have followed none of it which is my problem) 

So if you don’t mind a really long post, I’m just going to post summaries and stuff about my original ideas. 

The Boy with the Bite

The story follows a boy named Caleb Fisher from the town of Tremont, where terrible things never happen, yet sometimes still do. In the shadows of the wood Caleb is the victim of a mauling with stretching consequences, and finds an unexpected ally in a talking black cat named Jack Bennett. This cat warns the boy as best he can about the dangers of the full moon but understands grimly that there are no real explanations to make it any better, not really. Now, Caleb is left with nothing as he is forced to leave his family behind and go in search of answers to new questions with strange new companions,and redefine for himself what a ‘monster’ really is.

---

((that was from an old post lol. this is the book idea I am the most serious about, the secondary contender being the same main character Caleb, but instead of involving any other characters, his companions consist entirely of dogs.

So a young, recently bitten werewolf fleeing home with no answers realizes that he’s an animal. He gains an understanding of the speech of dogs, limited though it is sometimes, and in his disorientation is arrested for trespassing. Consumed with fear over realizing these well meaning officers intend to send him home where he could potentially bring harm to his family, Caleb desperately appeals the the old police dog guarding the office. The old dog listens as the odd boy begs and cries, and stops to ask the boy if his suspicions had been correct. Were the police officers really intending on retiring him. When Caleb confirms this to be the truth, the old dog shakes himself and decides he has had no true heroics in his career, and helps the young werewolf escape. With McKinley (Captain McKinley as the old Shepard insists) at his side Caleb escapes into the world, gaining his own pack of earnest, misplaced dogs as he goes. But as supernatural threats begin to draw near, lured by the presence of another predator like themselves, Caleb must embrace the parts of himself he fears the most in order to preserve the family he has created. 

(really fond of this one but feel like it has been done maybe. that doesnt mean i SHOULDNT write it, i just consider it)

---

the third one, which i believe is the one you originally asked about is a nameless universe in which i am primarily generating OC’s along a certain set of rules.

Essentially it is a magic universe where non magic folk and magic users live together in various realms with varying levels of magic concentration. The really highly magical concentrated realm is where a lot of magic schools and buisnesses were founded and primarily where they operate, but magic users can be born to any of the realms and magic to known to everyone, even if its less prominent where they live. the main stay in the universe is the production and selling of magic items/enchatments to both magic users and non magic folk alike, forming an entire type of economic flow. thats mostly unimportant but just showcases how they co-exist

creatures and spirits that are magical in nature exist in all the realms as do animals, but it skews from mostly animals with some magical creatures, to mostly magical creatures with a few animals on a gradient of sorts. most people live right in that middle sweet spot with a little bit of everything. 

the story with my OC’s is in a magical school which mostly functions like a trade school, its considered a type of higher education you can enter right after highschool or test into halfway through highschool to finish your general ed while also taking trade classes alongside it. There you can learn the practical trades of enchantments, familiar summoning, creation and refinement of magical objects, preparing of magical components, practical spells, charms, potions, etc. Upon graduation you receive a certificate of your chosen field of study and hopefully an internship in your field. Functions like a boarding school/dorm situation/ trade school dealio 

In it we got this gang

Flint Mason- a wizard with an interest in crystals and their various magical uses, has a familiar that is a crystal lined iguana that can split apart into three little newts

Laguna Poole- a water witch who grew up in the most intensely magic area possible. Has a little trouble with average human objects as a result but loves fashion, and primarily studies water familiars and potion making. Has a frog that can also turn into an otter, i call it a frotter, its name is pud

Lucio (insert last name here cause i forgot)- a bit of a quiet lad who studies pretty intricate enchantment lines and anything ancient. Has a Church Grim who exudes creepy warnings and is totally invisible except his eyes in the dark

Ayah (insert last name here cause I forgot)- a witch who is a fantastic summoner, so much so that she accidently summoned like so many djinn, and now has five djinn who follow her in the form of pure black cats that live in her shadow and act as her familiars. 

there is one other good boy who is not done being developed yet, but i do have his familiar

The Kettle Crab

[breelandwalker]

{{ Hey Mama Bree! Forgive me if I've gotten confused, but I think you've said that you have ADHD, right? And work in an office environment? I just got my first office job, and I'm really quite excited to start! But it's a lot of data processing, and I was wondering if you have any tips on how to go about that as someone with ADHD, or if you have any quick crap-I-forgot-to-prep spell ideas to help out. You always give the best advice, so I thought I'd ask. Thank you so much! ~rwt-mystic-corner

You are correct on both counts! A lot of my day job does include data processing, and it doesn’t help that I’m basically in a fishbowl at a spot where my coworkers like to congregate and chat. Distractions are inevitable, but I do have ways of coping.

First, make sure your supervisor, or at least your HR department, knows that you have ADHD. If it’s something that’s going to affect your work, or if you need any sort of accommodations, you can ask for them under the Americans With Disabilities Act. And yes, ADHD does count.

Assess your workspace and the surrounding area. What can be done to limit or eliminate distractions? Can you request to wear headphones to block out ambient noise or office chatter? Are you allowed to put up a polite sign asking coworkers not to disturb you when you’re working on a particularly intensive task? If you’re in a high-traffic area, could you maybe be moved to somewhere quieter where interruptions are less frequent?

Ask your supervisor, and if they’re not amenable, ask your HR dept for an ADA accommodations form. They have to give you one if you request it, and your workplace must comply with any reasonable request you might make. Headphones, relocation, and most ergonomic requests are considered very reasonable.

Ask for work instructions for your position. If they don’t exist, take extensive notes during your training. I had to do this for my current position, and I ended up writing a work instruction document that was used to train my replacement when I was promoted. I still use this system when I encounter new tasks or some new variation or changes in procedure.

For your part, try to eliminate distractions from your desktop, or at least move them out of your immediate view. If you have fidget toys, maybe put them in a drawer or just out of reach when working. Make a To-Do list when you have a lot of tasks on deck to help you prioritize and remember everything.

I use a water clock to refocus myself if I’m getting overwhelmed. It’s a cheap little thing that runs for about two minutes. The motion and the colors are very soothing, and it reminds me to breathe and clear my head. Then I can get back to work. Sometimes just the motion of turning the clock over is enough to get me back on track.

If you can, get up and stretch every 2-3 hours. This prevents brain fog and keeps your energy up. Chewing gum helps with focus too. If possible, bring veggie sticks to crunch on or keep a protein bar or some other healthy nonperishable snack in a sealed container in your drawer. (Do NOT tell your coworkers about your stash.) Oh and HYDRATE. A dehydrated brain is an unfocused brain.

If you’re allowed to have headphones in, make sure you pick something to listen to that’s not going to distract you further. (For instance, I can listen to audiobooks and podcasts all day, but music with lyrics distracts me something terrible because it starts the Association Game in my head and then I’m off down the rabbit hole.)

Another thing that helps on the daily is starting yourself off on the right foot. Whenever I oversleep or hit Snooze too many times, I start my day feeling rushed and disorganized, and it’s hard to recover from that. Set out as many things as you can the night before. Take a shower, make your lunch, lay out your clothes, charge your phone, have your keys and accoutrements together, tape a note to the front door with any pertinent reminders. Restrict yourself to Getting Ready For Work tasks when you get up. If there’s something else that needs doing, write yourself a note to do it later. If it’s not covered in bugs, actively on fire, shitting on the carpet, or likely to cause imminent harm, it can probably wait until after work.

Not much magic on this one, I’m afraid. Just a lot of life hacks! But I hope they help!

Congrats on your new job! Go forth and conquer!

[jamiebluewind]

Hi I just wanted to say thank you so much for your post about fiction characters and being labelled gay with the educational definitions at the end! As a bi person I'm always so conflicted/wary when I see people say that a canonly bi character is gay, as I've seen it used a ton by people who erase their bisexuality but on the other hand I've seen it used by people who accept their bisexuality. Like the other day I saw someone say that 2 bi characters represent gay solidarity in their (1/3)

anonymous asked: Hi I just wanted to say thank you so much for your post about fiction characters and being labelled gay with the educational definitions at the end! As a bi person I'm always so conflicted/wary when I see people say that a canonly bi character is gay, as I've seen it used a ton by people who erase their bisexuality but on the other hand I've seen it used by people who accept their bisexuality. Like the other day I saw someone say that 2 bi characters represent gay solidarity in their ending together and said that they're both gay and a homosexual power duo. And I know the person in question didnt mean for that to come off as erasing their bi sexuality (esp since some bi ppl label themselves gay which I do sometimes as well) but at the same time I'm kind of annoyed at it. Like I'm sick of fandom as a whole seeing canonly bi characters and acting like their attraction to the opposite gender isnt valid or, even worse, have them diminish or belittle their attraction to the opposite gender. I know most of it is just jokes (and I have laughed at some of the well done/funny ones) but as a bi woman I'm so tired of people acting like I should feel bad for being attracted to men. And its aggravating sometimes to see that mentality spread to characters that I love and can see myself in, even if I know most people mean no harm. Apologies for the rant but I saw your post and it really resonated with me! Thank you for reading this and I hope you have a good day/night!

***

I don't even know what to say! This was such a wonderful thing to find in my inbox. I'm so touched. Thank you. ^_^

People like you are part of the reason I made the post. Since I felt uncomfortable, I figured there were others like me too who felt the same. I mean, sure we cheer when any of our rainbow siblings get representation, but we still want to be able to see ourselves too!

Also, for anyone in a similar situation with two known bisexuals dating, you can call them (regardless of gender) something like a queer power duo (or a qpoc power duo if they happen to be queer people of color).

I really do hope that people take it all to heart. People who like more than one gender aren't "straight passing" or "actually gay" or dealing with any less stereotypes than any other LGBTQIA+ identity. We are people with a valid identity who face prejudice all the time (some areas worse than others). Many of us have dated someone who has either fetishized us or tried to force us back into the closet so that we will pretend to share their identity. Most of us have been told that we can't be attracted to more than one gender if we haven't [done x thing] with [y gender] yet or accused of promiscuity because ofour label. Just about all of us have dealt with the "so you're gay/straight now" when we start dating someone. So when we see a character that we can see ourselves in and that resonates with us, it can sting to see other people label them as straight or gay.

My entire label is a mouthful (sex positive gray-demi-omnisexual), but having a word for how I feel makes me feel less like a square peg in a round hole because if there is a word for it, then there's someone else out there that feels the same. I sometimes just call myself bi (or bi plus) in person to avoid explaining (omnisexual is just not a word person know), so I get why so many people have such a diverse definition of what bisexuality could means. Sometimes it's just easier to use the word people know instead of trying to teach them one that they don't.

My search for the terms that fit my identity (femfluidflux* and sex positive gray-demi-omnisexual) took me until my 30s (because of COURSE my words weren't gonna be the easy ones!) and is why I learned so many labels. Honestly, it has helped me help others so much more than myself. I've helped people find their words and feel a little less alone and helped others expand their vocabulary to better understand and appreciate the people that use them. I know a lot of people think they only need to know a few words, but the truth is, knowing somebody's words, showing them a character/famous person who uses the same words, or something as simple as writing a fanfic/AU/headcanon that uses a word they use (or even just one that's similar) can ABSOLUTELY make their day and make them feel seen and wanted. Just by learning about a group of words that's about as long as a couple weeks' worth of spelling tests.

*femfluidflux: A gender which moves (fluid) between feminine and nonbinary genders with varying degrees of intensity (flux), but never moves into a masculine gender. The masculine/nonbinary form of this is mascfluidflux.

[spanishskulduggery]

i've been trying to find a list that has all the spanish grammar but organized by CEFR levels. like at A1 people learn about present tense and B2/C1 learn about subjunctive. do you or any of your follows know where to find a list like this? it doesn't have to be in depth but a bit of a guide line i guess

I don’t really know off the top of my head but I can give a brief overview of how I think it generally works. This is mostly based on my own education, so take this with a big grain of salt.

In the US system, Spanish 1 is close to A1 and maybe A2, while A2 to B1 is probably Spanish 2 and 3, and then Spanish 4 is probably B2 to C1.

But most of C1 and C2 would be closer to the literature classes, or really focusing on more particular academic Spanish. Spanish 4 (in my university) went up to explaining imperfect subjunctive, but didn’t fully explain every single grammatical concept. 

The more complex issues in Spanish sometimes aren’t addressed at all in language classes, they’re more something you learn on your own which can be frustrating.

A1

alphabet specifically any different letters or sounds like ñ, ll, and rr and silent H

present tense

irregular verbs in present tense- ser, estar, ir, ver, dar and many of the -go verbs like tener, decir, hacer, venir, salir etc

ser vs. estar

the general pronouns like yo, tú, etc

very basic vocab like colors, days of the week, basic emotions, basic place names

description words, particularly with describing people’s personalities or emotions with ser or estar, like hair color, eye color, fat/skinny, blonde/brunette, strong/weak, smart/stupid... as well as sick/well, tired, happy, sad, angry, surprised, and some very basic words

using months and days together, and the rules for things like el lunes and los lunes

just the briefest of introductions to plurals and words that require different spellings based on plural like feliz and felices etc

professions

“my name is” using ser or the briefest of introductions to llamarse and reflexives, not too intense

cardinal numbers 1-10, maybe 1-20(?)

how to form basic questions

question works (especially the difference between cuál and qué)

basic greetings, titles like señor or señora

general overview of how gender agreement works, how singular/plural works, and the basics of la concordancia 

the basics of definite and indefinite articles: el, la, los, las and un, una, unos, unas

general adjective placement and agreement

how to use negatives like no 

contractions with al and del

telling time with ser [usually done when practicing numbers]

brief introduction to “I like” using gustar and how that works, and describing your preferences or things you like to do and how gustar works with infinitives

the basics of adverbs or at least being able to recognize the ones ending in -mente or the commonplace ones like muy or understanding the difference between bueno/a and bien or malo/a and mal

some idioms

A2

weather expressions, seasons

tener expressions like tener hambre, tener sed, tener suerte

numbers 0-100, possibly up to 1000

family tree

clothing and using either llevar or usar for “to wear”

comparisons with más que/de, menos que/de, mayor que, menor que

comparisons of equality with tan / tanto/a ___ como ___

stem-changing verbs: e=>i, e=>ie, o=>ue

use of modals and infinitives like poder + infinitivo, or deber + infinitivo

the use of ir a + infinitivo

use of the gerund/progressive forms of verbs

common names of countries and nationalities

ordinal numbers 1-10, specifically understanding how primer(o), and tercer(o) work

location words with estar

the basics of directions with estar and ir like a la derecha, a la izquierda, enfrente de, detrás de, junto a etc

conmigo, contigo

the basics of possessives

use of hacer with time to mean [ago[

use of hay for “there is/are”

verbs like gustar: molestar, interesar, importar, encantar, costar, etc and how indirect objects generally work

more idioms

places and especially things like “by train” or “on foot”

general prepositions specifically a, de, con, en, entre, sobre, por, para

parts of the body, usually done with doler or something like that

intro to commands

the personal a for personhood or for animate objects

intro to preterite/imperfect

-car, -gar, -zar, and -guar verbs in preterite

superlatives

adjectives that go in front vs behind aka “spotting determiners” like buen(o), mal(o), gran / grande, and other question words

“silent subject”

B1

preterite and imperfect for real, irregular verbs in each

when verbs change meaning between preterite/imperfect like poder, querer, no querer, conocer etc

more on commands specifically the irregular verbs

negative commands specifically the irregular verbs

direct objects

the Greek words that end in -a but are masculine like el problema, el planeta, el programa

alguno/a and ninguno/a

use of double negatives

words that take a masculine article but are actually feminine

indirect and indirect objects together

demonstratives

use of había and hubo for “there was/were”

use of ir a + infinitivo with imperfect for “was going to”

present perfect with haber

past participles, especially the irregular ones

reflexive verbs, usually done with daily routines or with clothing like ponerse/quitarse

por vs para

pluperfect / past perfect with haber and past participles

basic passive voice with ser + participles

future tense

intro to subjunctive mood, specifically present subjunctive

B2

more present subjunctive, especially irregular verbs

understanding the differences between indicative, subjunctive, and imperative mood

object pronouns

relative clauses

more por and para 

really understanding preterite/imperfect

conditional tense

using the perfect tenses with subjunctive

use of imperfect subjunctive with conditional

subjunctive clauses

subjunctive subjunctive subjunctive

weird irregular verbs that aren’t always stressed like -zco, -zo, and other rarer verb conjugations

conjugations that are irregular for the sake of sound/pronunciation like verbs ending in -ñir, -llir, etc

C1

more comprehensive understanding of subjunctive mood

hypothetical situations, probability, doubt, imposition of will

indirect commands

passive voice constructions vs. active voice

using direct/indirect objects and reflexive pronouns with commands and subjunctive, specifically word order

understanding linguistic intention behind certain tenses and how they “translate” differently

changeable syntax and how it’s understood

emphasis vs. subtlety

how to imply politeness, abruptness, impatience, or deference

passive se and imperfect se

regional variations and differences, particularly leísmo and loísmo

C2

coming to understand most of the accent rules and esdrújula

the use of dativo ético and how to sound like a native speaker

when to use subjunctive vs indicative

what preposition to use

verbs that take prepositions

superfluous reflexive

literary and academic Spanish

historical Spanish-historical vos-future subjunctive-the two different forms of imperfect subjunctive and what they meant in historical Spanish vs. what they mean and where they’re used today

colloquial Spanish vs. formal/professional Spanish

striking a balance between the two

regional variations and differences, just in general since it takes a long time to learn them and they show up where you least expect them so it{s an ongoing process

...So really it’s levels A and B that are most often “taught”, while C levels are more things you nail down and get used to seeing and understanding over time

C1 is probably the hardest one to explain because it’s more “make sense of all the things you learned”, and that also is related to B2. You start to feel like you know a lot of things, but you don’t understand them or why they’re that way, so it just feels... confusing. C1 is a lot of revelations and gaining mastery of things, and making sense of all the things you’ve seen but didn’t understand

And C2 is an ongoing process. If you’re at C2, there’s no higher level so it’s you continuing to learn and practice and understand, but you know the basic grammar building blocks.

[fapangel]

Since you're the only anti-Assad guy I seem to be following, what exactly is the case for removing him? I've looked at the issue multiple times and I can't seem to find any sort of benefit to removing Assad that would outweigh the significant cost of doing so, with the added downside that it only shores up more power for Saudi Arabia. I really don't see what we stand to gain.

Well, lemme spell it out: Assad is playing for the other team - to wit, Iran has troops in the country backing up Assad right now, and we all know about Russia’s direct support and troops in-country, as well. This whole Qatar conflict? Kicked off days after Trump told the Saudis to stop fucking about and start self-policing. The Qataris are tight with the Iranians who are tight with the Russians. See how this works? Syria has simply become the latest battleground in a very long, very old proxy war between the United States and Russia for global influence. 

Now whether or not you believe the claims of the Russians that they’re just “defending themselves” and that tiny Baltic states would be existential threats to a nation with ten times their population, land mass and budget if they join NATO is up to you, but I think we can both agree that Putin has decisively committed Russia to a new conflict with the West. We are in a new Cold War as we speak, and as a new generation is learning, the Cold War was anything but - it was simply fought by proxy. 

Egypt is a good example, here. Mubarak was a bastard, and the military junta he represented are still oppressive bastards, who’ve successfully stifled any hope of free democracy in Egypt from the Arab Spring. But they’re our oppressive bastards. And that’s pretty much as good as you can hope for in the Middle East... that is, unless you’re willing to commit your nation to a very expensive, bloody ten year war to invade one of those states and shield and nurture a nascent democratic government against a decade of upheaval, war, and attempts to kill it until it can stand on its own. *Cough cough.* And that’s the price you have to pay. That is, by Donald Rumsfeld’s own admission, why Bush Sr. didn’t remove Saddam - it would’ve created a power vacuum which would’ve been filled by a new SOB. It’s the clearest example of “the devil you know versus the devil you don’t” you could ask for. And that’s from the guy who’d preside over the invasion of Iraq under Bush Jr! 

If it wasn’t for ISIS and the Russians/Iranians, we’d be doing right now what we’ve done for decades - not give a shit about Syria. ISIS is the real problem. I’ve heard some people opining that ISIS would never have been a problem if not for “our meddling.” Those people are fucking retarded. The Arab Spring, in case they missed it, was (and is) a big fucking thing - decades upon decades of oppression, suffering and rage finally boiled over, and it hit the Middle East like a goddamn brick. If you really think that half-assed “bombing campaign” of Obama’s and Hillary’s was the deciding factor in Gaddafi finally leaving Libya by riding a bullet to hell, you’re delusional. Fuck, even Saddam was almost ousted by the Kurds after the Gulf War - a short bombing campaign could’ve taken out Saddam and replaced him with allies of ours (allies during the Gulf War,) and saved us all the later bloodshed, but apparently Bush Sr. didn’t want to take that big roll of the dice. Hindsight, 20/20, etc. But don’t think that they only managed it because we’d trashed their military: the Kurds have been rebelling since the 30s, and they’ve taken their chances at other times Iraq was vulnerable, like during the Iran-Iraq war. Note that the Iraqi regime was desperate enough against this uprising to employ chemical weapons against what was nominally their own people. And remember that we’re not the only ones that “meddle” in other nations - the Turks, who fucking hate the Kurds, were balls-deep in that shit as well to restrain and hamper Kurdish efforts to form an independent state. 

Long story short, there’s no guarantee that ISIS wouldn’t have toppled many if not most of these states all on their own, aided by the internal fragility of many of these regimes and the many other groups seeking to topple them - including all the moderate, anti-Islamist rebels. Yes, they exist. The only people who deny it are the fucking Russians who’re making a point of bombing them. The best proof of this is Syria itself - a nation with one of the largest and best-equipped armies in the Middle East (short of Egypt) has been fighting a civil war for five years and is still struggling - and to be blunt, if the Russians and Iranians hadn’t came to their aid in 2015, Assad would be swinging from a rope right now. And even with their support - well, just look at the fucking livemap. They’ve got American-backed Kurds kicking the shit out of ISIS in most of the important areas to the north, ISIS has lost almost all of its major support bases in Iraq, like Mosul, and they still are struggling to make headway. (The US is now actively backing the moderate rebels, true, but considering that ISIS was always more competent and dangerous than most of the moderates, the fact that the moderates are fighting ISIS too, and that the most potent local anti-ISIS forces, the US-baked YPG Kurds, didn’t get involved in force until recently, with American backing, I’d say that’s a wash at best.) You can scroll back through the months (and years) on that map - do so, and note how much the colors on the map change, and for whom. Northern Homs is a pocket of resistance that seemingly refuses to die, and those major urban areas in the North are decisively stubborn - the government managed to take Aleppo (with intensive Russian airstrike support) but it cost them dearly and they’re still struggling to expand those gains. And apparently, the Russians are maintaining order in Aleppo with their own military police, so the Syrian government can spare forces for offensives. 

If anyone tells you that the Syrians are on the “verge of winning,” they’re worse than stupid - they’re either a fucking Russian shill, or they’re a mistake of evolution. There was - and is - every reason to fear that Assad might eventually lose, Russian/Iranian support be damned. The Russians remember very, very well how thoroughly they were fucked in Afghanistan. I chatted with a Russian man who fought in Afghanistan one night (in a highsec corp I was awoxing at the time, incidentally,) and the stories he told were fucking hair-raising - about how when the AK-74s ran out, they issued AK-47s, and when those ran out, they issued SKSs and when those ran out they started handing out fucking Nagants. Trust me, the Russians have no fucking interest in a quagmire - they’re constantly watching their Return on Investment, and nothing beats an actual war for polishing up your personnel, practical experience and organizational structures, especially when you’re trying to recover from two decades of under-investment and decay. Just look at how fucking hard ISIS is still fighting, and how bloody the advances are even for the YPG backed by US/coalition airpower - with the Kurds, the Russians (nominally,) the Syrians, the moderates and the Americans all allied against them, and after most of their infrastructure has been blown, blasted or bayoneted out from under them. 

What am I getting at, here? Simple - America’s not the only one in the world that can effect a regime change. Sometimes you don’t get to choose whether or not to knock someone out of the game - because plenty of other forces are willing to do it for you. In that case your best bet is to hope to have enough influence to see that the next group in power is the least terrible one you can manage - because if you don’t, the Russians sure as fucking hell will. 

Of course, that’s all assuming that we want to remove Assad. Frankly, I believe the Trump administration - and the defense department - when they say they don’t want to remove Assad. I am anti-Assad, and so is Trump, and the Defense Department, and anyone else who doesn’t like mass-murdering cunts. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t serve our purposes better alive than dead, however, because it’s likely that Assad will end up permanently ruling a lot less of Syria than he used to. 

To wit, even after Iranian and Russian support flowed in to prop up the regime, Syria was - and still is, outside of US-backed offensives - a bloody stalemate. Gaining ground in one area meant losing it in another. For a long time now, neither “side” in this conflict (regime alliance versus everyone fucking else) have had the power to really overwhelm and defeat the other conclusively. The relatively static frontlines in many places really illustrate that. Many places that changed hands have done so multiple times and likely will again. Neither Russia nor Iran wish (or can afford) the resource investment to change that, and the Turks only care because REEE KURDS. There’s an excellent chance that Syria might end up as East Syria and West Syria, with the modern-day frontlines defining much of the eventual states they will become, much like North and South Korea.  (Which was another war were Russia and America were dicking with each other by proxy.) What do you think the Kurdish interest in taking ground in northern Syria is? Why do you think the Turks (who’ve been fighting Kurdish rebels in their own country for decades,) are screeching so hard about Kurds taking vast swathes of territory just south of their border? The Kurds finally have what they’ve always wanted, in Northern Iraq - an ethnic Kurdish state - but there’s Kurds in Syria, Turkey and even Iran. And for obvious reasons (say, many decades of murder, oppression, marginalization, having their people gassed, etc.,) they’re quite eager to take as much ground as they can to form a contiguous Kurdish state. 

So why the hell would we eliminate or depose Assad - and have to jump through the many, many hoops that follow as we try to influence, second-guess and react to whatever successor state we get out of the throw (because even loaded dice can come up snake eyes,) when we can neuter Assad, and leave him mostly powerless to fuck with us, or give the Russians more influence in the region? Someone fighting all-out just to hang on to half of what he used to have is someone too busy to fuck with you and yours much, you know? 

And we’re accomplishing this all for far less investment in troops, weapons, aircraft, etc. as we used in Iraq and Afghanistan when we were doing most or all the fighting with our own soldiers, too. We’re playing the same ROI game that Russia is, and we’re doing pretty well. 

So, yeah. The “case for removing Assad” is that he’s hostile to us, our allies, and our interests, he’s a tool and boon to our dedicated global rivals and enemies the Russians, he’s in bed with other problematic and constant threats like Iran, and last, but not least, he’s a mass-murdering cunt who’s on the ropes and is fighting for the existential survival of his state and himself, which is literally what WMD exists to guarantee. But like most hostile mass-murdering cunts who are hostile to us and are in bed with our enemies, that just means we should remove him IF, and ONLY IF, a good opportunity presents itself. Usually the math is against it - it’s been against taking out the Norks for five goddamn decades, and it took the Norks developing the bomb - and a delivery system for the bomb - and vast upheavals in the Cold War geopolitical order - to even begin to nudge that needle. And considering that we’ve got many better options to neutralize the threat Assad poses - and that they’re going well - its quite unlikely that we’re going to move against Assad himself. Why would we take the Syrian regime out of the fight when that’d just free up more ISIS fighters to inhibit our own forces and goals, which apparently include helping the YPG to grab vast swathes of territory? 

tl;dr That’s what ACTUAL realpolitik considerations look like. Half the fuckwits on /pol/ make vague noise about unpragmatic regime change before sucking Assad off like some kind of fucking hero. 

When someone’s sucking a dictator’s cock, be wary about how they characterize the position of their detractors. 

[full-moon-phoenix]

Juno Sagina was taken aback.

"Like I said, I was in the Realm of Magic a REALLY long time. But..."

She knew what she could do next ...but it was almost as daunting as facing Jester again herself. And yet, Lerna was so thoughtful, so willing to accept her despite their peoples' grievances, Juno found herself not wanting to let her down. She at least deserved to know what happened to her son.

"...I do know a way we could find out. See, the Realm of Magic exists outside the boundaries of time, and I'm still tethered to it magically. It might require sneaking a peek at multiple timelines, but I could probably look into his and see what we've missed since we left."

The warrior stood, looming over Lerna and Alyssa as they sat, and slowly lifted her hand in the air with intense focus. The air between them swirled into a sort of round screen three feet in diameter, showing the Realm of Magic in all its hypnotic golden glory on the other side. The other women huddled by Juno's side, ready for what she would show them. But she paused. Her ready hand flinched. Was she ready to do this?

Alyssa grabbed her free hand and squeezed slightly, lowering Juno's uneasiness. She forced an exhale and calmed herself. She could feel the weight of their anticipated gazes, and somehow that gave her the motivation she needed. And at least, this way, she might finally find out what happened to her daughter.

"Well... they don't call me Juno the Daring for nothing."

She moved each finger on her lifted hand down individually, cracking each knuckle. The movement seemed to trigger the screen to switch images, and the many timelines of Toffee of Septarsis came into life.

"Let's see, where to stop...I guess the easiest place would be my own timeline. At least until it converges with all his others; it seems there's a point where most versions of himself, including all our's, appear roughly on the same timeline."

Juno skimmed through a bunch of different events, taking in the information herself but not considering it useful to the others. Yet Lerna focused on the screen anyway, and Juno could tell that she was seeing everything she wanted to know without having to ask.

"What? He met Tivi again?! Lucky bastard...and lost her just as quickly. And Eclipsa had a what? And that's why they took my kid?! UGH! Let's see, crystallized, crystallized, crystallized (yeesh, long time crystallized). Oh! Nice to see his gadgets are still intact! Ugh, the sneaky punk keeps the best ones for himself; that mace is beautiful."

"Do you mind?" Lerna was getting annoyed at the constant unnecessary feedback.

"I vocalize a lot when I'm surprised. Sue me. Ah, here we are! The convergence! Hm...it seems he had a disagreement with my 4th great granddaughter, Queen Comet. She struck a bad nerve with him and he- oh wow, you're gonna love this, Lerna -he led a revolt and killed her. My own descendant; unbelievable.

Then her daughter, Moon, was in so much grief that she struck a deal with Eclipsa: her freedom for Toffee's life. She missed his heart, though...I think, and the spell only took his finger and Eclipsa stayed crystallized. Then he went into hiding for 20-something years. Good Lord, he did a lot of research since then!! By the time Moon's daughter, Star, started her magic training, Toffee had discovered quite a few secrets about the wand...and the different forms of magic itself.

Hm, I've never seen this family before. Avarius? Their son, Ludo, was a pawn in Toffee's plan. Toffee...managed...to...temporarily destroy the Royal Magic Wand? AND changed the form of magic itself?!!?!?!! Oh my gosh! This sent the entire magical monarchy into absolute entropy!! Just look at the screen! Look what he did to the Realm!"

Juno extended her arms toward the screen in an exaggerated manner, showing the girls every bit of Toffee's main timeline. She stepped back while they got a closer look. A realization overwhelmed her, the coincidence...that Jester had done this to the Realm of Magic around the same time she'd gotten her awareness back and left it. Could this be...

Juno's eyes flicked back toward the screen. The timelines were starting to come undone around one crucial point: his demise.

"It can't be. Alyssa was right. He's gone. Star destroyed him.

But...there are so many different paths this is separating into. It's impossible to know which one is the main timeline. See, here's Alyssa's, where he's safe and sound on Earth. And here's what ...might... be mine? I guess he's in a coma and slowly being consumed by black magic? There's too much going on to know for sure."

Juno turned to a speechless Lerna, the lizard's brows furrowed, eyes locked on the screen in disbelief. Or contemplation? Lord knows what she must be thinking at this point.

"I'm sorry, Lerna...I don't know what else to say. What do you think about all this?"

@reptilian-aristocrat @lizards-and-co

(I hope you don't mind me asking you here.) "What about you, Lerna?" Juno asked thoughtlessly, shifting the subject a bit. "What's Toffee like in your timeline?"

The Septarian lady listened attentively to the words of those two, apparently Toffee knew well how to treat a woman, at least in other realities. That made her happy, she would have liked to know what her son would be like if he were married on her timeline. Lerna did not remember much talking to him about love, and less about women, maybe because of how strangely distant he became when he was a teenager or maybe… because she never heard him talking about a girlfriend. She only remember one time that they have talked about it. It was when, one day he came to ask her for some advice about a girl he liked, but he was not sure if what he felt was right. Lerna did the best she could to tell him everything she knew, and apparently it worked because she saw him in a better mood after that. But time later she realised that the girl his son was talking about was… a mewman, guess it turned out the same in other timelines.

Quickly the question of the redhaired girl pulled her out of her thoughts…

“What about you, Lerna?” Juno asked thoughtlessly, shifting the subject a bit. “What’s Toffee like in your timeline?”

“Toffee…” Lerna paused “Oh where do i start! since he learned how to talk he was a brilliant boy, a child thirsty for knowledge. He absorbed each lesson quickly and applied it to every aspect of his life. His education and training were a very important aspect for me and I made sure to give him the life that I couldn’t have when I was younger…” Lerna spoke animatedly while continuing to remember….

“ignorance is the cradle of fear” … she used to tell her child … “ And Toffee wasn’t afraid to ask "why”. It wasn’t a causality the way he questioned everything, even the authority, there wasn’t worse thing for Toffee than have a “because i sai so” for an answer. For him, everything needed to have a reason, a purpose, a good purpose…“

…"As soon as he began his maturity, his father started to train him in the physical arts, weapons and combat, of course I didn’t oppose, that was as important as intellectual knowledge. But it really bothered me to see how everything in his life went all about training (an it bother Toffee too). Seth told me it was necessary, for not having been strict enough (whitch i actually was) with him, and left him getting weak for so many years. So… when Seth wasn’t around, i let him sneak out to small gatherings in the woods, where the young ones used to have fun, as any good boy deserved…”

… “And as he grew, his popularity grew with him, little by little he gained a name among the young and it was to be expected, he was a very attractive boy and, having inherited his father’s "gift of the word”, made him totally irresistible for the masses. Toffee inspired confidence and security, he had clear ideas and didn’t hesitate to conquer  all his goals, a future leader I was very proud of … “

Lerna suddenly stoped, so many memories mede her ramble too much, an it was hard not to do it, those are very precious memories for her. Of courses the fact that she was dead didn’t let her see what her son become a complete adult or what had been his life…. but maybe….

…"Do you girls know what happened with toffee in my timeline? what does he do? how was his life?…” @lizards-and-co @full-moon-phoenix (just tell her what happened in the show.)

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE:  Sorry for the long waits. I swear I'm not just being lazy (well most of the time), I'm working on other projects that will hopefully see the light of day soon!

"I did it," Elphaba breathed, beside herself as she watched her sister walk closer to Boq at the speed of an unsteady toddler. "Finally, from these powers of mine… something good."

Glinda heard that — the deep guilt that laced through every syllable, quiet as the rustling of grass in a breeze. She wrapped that up and tucked it away, needing to study the truth of it later when she had the chance. There and then, she wanted to keep watching. To find out what their former classmate would think of Elphaba's sister having the use of her legs for the first time in her life.

"Oh, goodness," Boq breathed, a hand at his mouth. By the time her hands lay upon his shoulders, she was laughing, the pure, unfiltered laugh of someone who had been relieved of a burden for the first time in her young life, but he was merely struck dumb. Finally, his head swung around to point at Elphaba. "You… you did this, didn't you?"

"I did. It's… the least I can do for my family, now that I've discovered this power. Maybe it's too little, too late, but I tried."

While the young man was still glancing between all of them, beside himself, Nessa took up one of his limp hands. "Don't you see? I… I can travel with you now, I don't have to keep you here! We can open the borders for the both of us! With my legs now working, a-and me knowing Elphaba isn't wicked after all… what's to stop us now?"

For a few seconds, the room was at a standstill. Glinda and Elphaba were shifting uncomfortably, feeling the splashback of the intensity Nessarose was radiating at her accomplice. Privately, Glinda wanted to breathe a sigh of relief at Nessa realising how mistaken she had been about her sister, but this didn't seem to be the time nor place — especially when she was reeling from the knowledge that the Munchkinland borders were only closed because she wanted to keep Boq on a short leash. Was she really so selfish as that?

Meanwhile, Boq himself looked between her and the others, struggling to come up with a reply. At long last, he said, "Oh… this is wonderful news. It changes everything!"

"I know! Everything!" Then she blinked in mild shock as he began to walk past her. "Wh-where are you going?"

Much to Glinda's horror, the staturally-challenged man grasped one of her hands in both of his. She was still blinking at that when he whispered, "Oh, Miss Galinda… how long I've waited to tell you!"

"Tell me what?" A heartbeat later, she added, "And it's 'Glinda' now."

"How much I care for you! How enchanted I've always been with you from the very beginning!"

All three women burst out in a single word: "WHAT?!"

"Your soft, gentle grace, that flawless blonde hair that curls gently to your shoulders, and- well, I can't say enough about your smile!" Sighing like a besotted child having been given his first puppy, he held her hand up and pressed it into his heart, earning only an exasperated gasp from Nessarose. "And I know that I might not be able to win you over, given that I'm just a Munchkinlander, but… oh, can't you give me a chance?"

"Gosh!" Glinda breathed, fluttering her eyelashes. In point of fact, her hair looked like a wind-tossed tree branch, and she didn't feel particularly gentle or graceful anymore. But she would be lying to herself if she tried to claim the flattery did not feel the tiniest bit gratifying. Therefore, she simply fluttered her eyelashes and giggled when he pressed a kiss to the hand. "That's so kind of you, Biq! I had no idea you felt so strongly!"

"No," Nessa breathed, staggering closer to her sister, a hand over her mouth. Glinda hated to see the woman so joyful one moment, and so crestfallen the next. She might have been a stranger to her, but she was still a person, and deserved to enjoy being able to walk for the first time in her life without the moment being ruined by something as stupid as this! How could he be so insensitive?

"Well, what do you say?" he persisted.

"Sorry," Glinda breathed softly, trying to cause as little of a scene as she could. "I hardly know you, and even back at Shiz, I was always more partial to Fiyero! Remember him?" That didn't seem to make a dent, so she continued, "Anyway, it doesn't matter because I'm just not interested in pursuing that kind of relationship right now. With anyone! So… so maybe we can be friends. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Slowly, his energetic expression began to lessen, a little at a time. He didn't quite frown, but he looked like the light behind his eyes had been snuffed by a strong breeze. Then he said, "I won't give up. You don't realise how earnest I am, and that's fine; I can wait. I'll wait a thousand years!"

"NO!" Nessa burst out. And when they turned to look at her… she saw something between her fingers. Something that did not belong to her.

Elphaba immediately burst out, "You give that back, Nessa!"

"There has to be something," she murmured, flicking through the pages of the Grimmerie with desperation. "Something in here to… to keep Boq from leaving me!"

"There isn't," Boq told her confidently, abandoning Glinda's hands with some obvious regret. "If Glinda isn't interested in coming with me, then I'll leave on my own."

"But haven't I been good to you?!" she demanded, wetness streaming down her cheeks. "These past two years, I gave you everything, I- I brought you here, gave you a place to stay, and didn't make you wait on me when you wanted time to yourself! I even…" Her eyes turned away, stung by the tears. "I even let you handle my shoes!"

The exasperated Munchkin threw up both arms as he exclaimed, "Who cares about your stupid shoes?! What possible reason would anybody have to care about that?! I didn't mind helping you, waiting on you when you can't wait on yourself, but I didn't want to — I wanted to be free! For all of our people to be free! Can't you see what you've been doing to us?! You're turning our homeland into… into a prison! It's horrible, and I want no part of it anymore!"

When he took a step toward the door, she shouted, "You'll never leave! The guards will stop you at the Emerald border, you know that! So… so just come back right now, and all will be forgiven!"

Boq barely spared her a glance. Instead, he looked at Glinda. "I really will wait for you."

"Yippee," she muttered under her breath.

"You ungrateful snake!" Flipping another few pages, she slapped a hand in the middle of the book and shouted, "HA! Your heart will be mine forever — it's right here! Ah... Tum... Tah... Tae..."

Instantly, Elphaba was by her side, eyes flicking between the page and her sister's manic gleam as she continued to chant. "Wh-what are you trying to do to him? Your pronunciation sounds…" She squinted down, then looked up at her with a stricken expression. "Nessa, h-how is your Ancient Lurlinic?!"

"A-AH!" Boq exclaimed, collapsing to the floor. "M-my chest, it's- what's h… happeni…"

That was as far as he got. His mouth hung open as he twitched and lay still.

"Boq?" Nessa's eyes flew wide as she took a hesitant step forward, gazing down in horror at what her ill-conceived spellwork had wrought. "BOQ?! What happened?!"

Not quite as distraught as the Eminent Thropp but still worried, Glinda flew over to Elphaba's side and hissed, "Can't you do something?!"

"You know I can't! You can't reverse a spell once it's been cast — and I didn't cast it, anyway!" Snatching the book out of her sister's hands, she began to page through it. "But maybe there's something else…"

"This is your fault!" Nessa was screaming as she crouched on the floor next to the man's body. "If you hadn't shown me that horrendible book, I would never h-"

"OH, STUFF IT!" Glinda screeched down at her, fists down by her side. "What kind of woman are you?! Casting a spell on poor little Biq just because he's not interested in you? That's pretty petty, Netty!"

"Nessa!" she corrected without thinking. But she was already looking down at him again. "And… oh… I know it is, I… please, just save him! Do something, anything!"

But Elphaba was already doing something. Book clutched in one hand, arm acting as a makeshift stand to prop it up just below her bosom, her other hand began to swirl through the air as she chanted, filling the room with a thick presence that could only be felt, not seen. Glinda knew such a gesture wasn't strictly necessary, but given that Elphaba was far better at spells than she had ever been, perhaps there was some merit in doing it, after all.

"S-something's happening," Nessa whispered, edging away from his body. "What… but this isn't… what have you done?"

"What I can," was all she panted once she was through, sagging with the weight of having poured her heart and soul into the effort. Magic seemed to sap her stamina when it was a stronger spell. "I… I'm sorry."

All three of them gaped down at the form below them. It was no longer a Munchkin. Truth be told, it wasn't even a person. Gleaming tin caught the firelight from all over his form, barrel chest that looked like a giant boiler, legs that looked like stovepipes. He who had been Boq was no more; whatever he had become was something else altogether.

"Elphaba… he's a tin toy. You've turned my beloved, sweet, brave Boq into…" Bitter tears slid down her cheeks as she grasped his arm, and she shivered. "Oh, what have I done to deserve this?! Why would you do this to me?!"

"I've only done as you asked. All I've ever done is what you asked!" No answer came. Snapping the book shut, she tucked it under her arm. "Nessa, I have done everything I could for you but it has never been enough. And now I see that it never will be. Good day to you."

"Wait, Elphie," Glinda whispered, taking a quick step forward. "She's grieving, she- maybe if you-"

"No. We are finished here. Come along, Glinda, we'll… we'll leave her to her toys and her tyranny."

And that was that. Nessa spoke no more for all her weeping, and Elphaba seemed to have nothing to say. Glinda took a step toward the broom, then rushed back to Nessa, ignoring the impatient tutting from their broom-pilot.

"Listen," she whispered to Nessa, who only sobbed louder. "You… may not be able to hear me right now, but… you mustn't blame yourself. Or Elphie. This just… this is just a big tangle of accidents all in the same ball of yarn. I am sorry about your friend, though. He didn't quite-"

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, raw and unhinged. "He could never love me while you existed! I never want to see your flawless face again!"

"Y-you can't mean that," she breathed. "How is it my fault if y-"

"GO!"

So they went.

"That was an awful thing to have happened," Glinda breathed as Nest Hardings fell away beneath them, the sky swallowing them up as the guards finally began to pour into Colwen Grounds. "I just… don't know what she thought she was going to accomplish by bespelling his heart that way! And then she blamed you for not 'fixing' it right! What more does she want?!"

"He was already dead," Elphaba said flatly. "She wanted the impossible, as usual. Poor, stupid Nessa. There are no shortcuts out of the afterlife without much too high a cost."

Glinda thought that sentiment was a bit harsh, but she held her tongue.

                                                            ~ o ~

As they sped off through the night, it became clearer that Elphaba was closing herself off. The more Glinda tried to encourage her to talk about what she had just experienced, the less she seemed to want to say. She could understand; if it had been her spellwork that turned a man to metal, she would be losing her marbles, too. However, there was no sense in dwelling on it.

Which she finally got Elphaba to respond to, just as they were passing over the Forest of the Fighting Trees.

"I know," she snapped angrily. "None of this is precious Nessa's fault, none of it's my fault. Or Boq's. You understand that, right?"

"Yes, of course," Glinda sighed in relief. "It's just one of those things that happens sometimes, right? When-"

"It's the Wizard's fault."

Her heart sank, the relief already gone on the winds behind them. "Really?"

"Don't you see? He's the one who drove me away, who… set me up to take the blame for those monkeys being changed! With me gone, disgracing the family name, Father worried himself into the grave. Father being gone made Nessa have to step into his place, since I was a fugitive — and she was in the position, she had the power to force Boq to stay by her side. We both know that old phrase about absolute power corrupting absolutely, don't we?"

"Well… it is a bit of a stretch, but I can't say there's any incorrectitude. So the Wizard pulls strings and everything spirals downward. So what? It's not like we can do anything about it."

"Time Dragon take it all, we can, too! And… we are!"

Both hands gripped hard on the broom handle, bringing them around to aim slightly south from their previous heading. Squealing and holding onto her friend more tightly, she called out, "Where are you taking us?!"

"To the Emerald City! This stops NOW!"

All that could be heard floating out behind them after that was Glinda's wail of despair and resignation.

                                                            ~ o ~

A stroke of luck befell the pair as they flew in through a high window and entered the Wizard's spacious throne room: it was unattended. Glinda bit her lip to recall how things had taken such a dark turn the last time they visited; a few misplaced words of a spell, a breaking of trust, and their entire lives had changed in an instant. Even now, she felt they were making a grave mistake in returning to the scene of the crime, but Elphie had refused to heed her warnings all the way there.

As they neared the "great and terrible" mechanical head that he used to intimidate the masses, Glinda leaned over and again whispered, "This is stupid. We're going to get ourselves thrown… underground!"

"No, we will not," Elphaba protested firmly, laying her broom down as she paced back and forth. "He'll be here, and we will have words. And you and I both know my explosion spell has never been explosionier; if things go wrong, I'll 'create' a new exit for us. Please, don't be worried."

"Pardon me if I worry anyway. I can't believe you wanted to come back here! Is your memory that bad that you already forgot how he tried to shoehorn you into Assistant To The Regional Wizard?" Sighing, she scuffed at the floor with her travelling boot as Elphaba looked this way and that, a hand shadowing her eyes. "And it doesn't even look like he's here, unless he's turned into a tapestry."

"I HAVE NOT!" the head boomed.

"OH, my Ozness!"

Elphaba did not react with quite the same level of shock as her compatriot. Instead, she merely sighed and called out, "Enough of the theatrics! I'm here to talk, but not to a giant puppet!"

"FINE." A moment later, the white-haired, pot-bellied old man emerged from behind the enormous bust of himself, smiling apologetically at the pair. Though he always looked rather grand in his top and tails, watch chain swinging from his vest pocket, the smear of grease on his cheek somewhat diminished the overall effect. "I was repairing one of the mechanisms; this thing breaks down more often than you'd think!"

"Your Wizardship," Glinda said immediately, bowing, then trying to turn the bow into a curtsy in mid-motion. "How have you been keeping?"

"Oh, well enough, well enough," he said in a genial tone. "Knew you'd be back. Oh, I knew you would, even after… well, that strongly-worded reply to your letter."

"You threatened us," Elphaba said without embellishment.

"Morrible threatened you," he nuanced, holding up a finger as his other hand grasped his lapel. "Her word choices, not mine. Besides, that letter was meant to be encouragement! A petition for you to come back and compromise. Surely you realise that I wouldn't waste such a resource as you and Miss Galinda on imprisonment, don't you?"

Glancing back and forth between them, Glinda cleared her throat and said, "N-no, we didn't. And it's 'Glinda', if you please, Wizliness."

"Glinda, Elphaba… the witches." Waving a hand at their glares, he said, "I don't see why a witch is so much worse than a wizard, anyway. That's up to the people of Oz. It would be interesting to ask them why one label is less palatable than the other when they have the same connotation: a person who, one way or another, suddenly finds themselves a bit more… magical than before."

"You don't have any magic," Elphaba accused baldly. "If you did, you wouldn't have tricked me into hurting Chistery and the other monkeys!"

A heavy sigh floated out of him, rustling the hairs above his lip. "It is true. All of my 'magic' is slight-of-hand, a shrewd use of modern invention… I'd try to protest, but you're a bit sharper than the average citizen of Oz."

"Then what do you want from me?" she demanded.

"To combine forces. My wit, and the people's faith in me… you and your perky blonde pal's powers, and we could do great things together! And you wouldn't have to keep running… wouldn't have to plan your own futures…" He leaned over to one side, as if hoping this would lend the other two a new perspective, as well.

"I like being in charge of my future," Glinda pouted. "It might not be a great one right now, but isn't that the only thing we truly have in the end? Control of our own fates?"

"Quite right! Quite right, my little dewdrop," he said with a nod, rocking back onto his heels. The "dewdrop" curled her lip at the term of endearment; he ignored that. "But there's a difference between getting to make the important choices, and having to make them all. Isn't there?" When neither of them responded, he spread his arms wide. "Let me take care of both you girls. You did a thing I found very disappointing when you took that book, very distressing, but if you just return it, swear to fall in line with the way things are run in the Emerald City, I promise you'll live like princesses!"

That only pulled an eyeroll from Elphaba. "I never had any desire to be a princess. Nor for someone to take care of me. Besides, what guarantee do we have that you won't just throw us in the dungeon when you have the Grimmerie?"

"You have my word."

"What's that worth in emeralds?" Glinda scoffed. "Nothing! You did set your soldiers on us, purely because we ran away when you tricked us! As far as I'm concerned, you're a… a naughty little boy who threw a tantrum because we didn't give your toy back!"

"But you took my toy," he said reasonably. "It did belong to me, didn't it?"

"I wonder." Narrowing her eyes, Elphaba paced back and forth in front of the Wizard. For his part, he tried to maintain that same genial facade, smiling beneath his mustache. "You can't use the book. We can. That's a very interesting fact. If I were to make a guess, I'd say it definitely doesn't belong to you."

Shrugging his shoulders, both of his hands went to the lapels of his coat. "Very good, very good. Though I didn't purloin the tome, if that's what you're implying. I found it. Here, actually; here in the palace."

"That's awfully forthrightful of you," Glinda said.

"Why shouldn't I say as much? Knowing it used to be here won't change the fact that yes, I'm the ruling head of Oz, and yes, the book belongs to me right now since it was in the palace when I found it. Correct?"

"Supposing we accept that," Elphaba continued, "what's to stop us from seizing control of the throne?"

"Um," Glinda began, but a wave of Elphaba's hand silenced her. She wanted to hear the Wizard's response.

"Oh, not much. I never asked for this, or planned it in advance. I was merely blown here by the winds of chance! When the folks in Oz needed someone to believe in, I swooped in from a land afar, and… well, the rest is history. Who was I to resist being worshipped like a king? I'm no George Washington." He held up a finger when he saw a pair of green nostrils flaring in anger and impatience. "However! I believe I should remind you that Madame Morrible is also lurking about here somewhere. If you try to depose me by force, she'll show you just how much power she has at her command."

"She couldn't read the book, either," Elphaba shot back, striding toward him. "Only a handful of spells; less than Glinda now. Which tells me she isn't so powerful after all. If she were, why doesn't she fix the real problems in Oz?"

His head cocked slightly as he considered. "Is that what it tells you? Hmm. Might be. Or it might not be. Who can say?"

This finally forestalled the two witches. They certainly weren't about to go around ceding points to the pompous windbag — not after he had either requested or allowed Morrible to order them to surrender and "accept their fate". But he was certainly giving them something to think about; a warning.

"What do you say?" he finally whispered when a time had passed and they did not respond. "Come on board the S.S. Wizard. Be part of my little family! Oh, I'd so like to have someone a little less… belligerent than Morrible to associate myself with. A couple of… apprentices? Peers, junior wizardesses?"

"You would pardon us entirely?" Glinda pressed him, voice cautious but hopeful. "For taking the book, and running, and any spells we used? That sounds too good to b-"

"Wait." Elphaba held an arm out in front of her friend as she took a step forward. Glinda couldn't help but feel both irritated at being silenced, and proud of Elphie for asserting herself. "You've made a habit out of telling lies to the people of Oz. How can we believe a word you say?"

"Ah, well, that's… you see, I'm…" He chuckled. "You've got me, I suppose. Haven't been a very honest chap, have I?"

"You can do something to prove yourself." Drawing herself up to her full height, she ordered, "Release the monkeys. As a gesture of goodwill, not as part of our negotiations. I've never done anything dishonest, and I don't think Glinda's capable of that at all."

"Hey!" she hissed. "I can fabricate with the best of them, probably! I just… haven't needed to very much!"

"But that's all you've ever done," Elphaba went on as if she hadn't been interrupted. "Lie, over and over. You're the only one whose word is in question. We need some proof up front that you can make good. Set those monkeys free, and we'll talk."

For the first time, they could both clearly see the indecision cross the old man's face. His lips worked and he paced back and forth, debating the pros and cons — sometimes aloud, under his breath. Then he shrugged and turned back to them.

"Done."

Striding over to the enormous head, he reached inside somewhere they couldn't see. A cranking sound filled the room as a large door wheeled up the wall, opening the way for a flood of winged monkeys to come pouring out. Their fur was the colour of coal, their leathery bat-wings stretching out from their backs; no doubt they had been cramped in such close confines with each other. The one named Chistery came up to Elphaba, regarding her with caution.

"Fly," she bade him urgently under her breath. When he only tilted his head in the other direction, she motioned at him with both arms, flapping and shooing. "Fly free! Chistery, you're free, isn't it wonderful?! Go, fly!"

"It's okay!" Glinda put in, using her sweetest voice. "No one will stop you this time! Fly away, little monkey!"

The other monkeys didn't have to be told twice, but Chistery ambled a lot more slowly to the windows. Turning her back on him so that he might get the idea, Elphaba strode over to the doorway and peered through to a cage in the corner.

"And it looks like we missed one," she sighed.

"N-now wait," the Wizard began to warn her, eyes widening as he tried to rush over. "Please, that's not-"

Too late. The cage was filled with a baa-ing instead of a chittering. Elphaba staggered back in shock when she recognized the occupant.

"No. N-no, y… Dr. Dillamond?!"

"By Ozma and Lurline," Glinda breathed.

The Wizard hurriedly approached the dumbstruck woman, her green lips parted wide as she gaped down at the Goat who had once been a wise, capable teacher. Now, all he could do was bleat and gaze up at her balefully, perched upon a bed of straw.

"He's been well taken care of," the Wizard attempted. "Hasn't wanted for anything. Nor have the monkeys! We… well, them being a problem for us didn't mean they should starve, does it?"

"What have you done? Why can't he talk?" When no answer came, Elphaba took over for the man's habit of grasping his lapels, shaking him by them as she snapped, "Tell me!"

Flinching afresh at her volume, he hissed, "We couldn't keep letting him speak out, could we?! All that dissent and chaos, it's… not ideal, not good for the kingdom!"

"How is she doing it? How is Morrible doing this to them?!" He only winced, so she finally dropped him, turning instead to wave her hands in a whirl and blow the door to the cage with one of her trademark explosions of pure magical energy. Dillamond bleated and ran around and around in a panic, finally bolting through the hole once the smoke had dissipated and running off to the far end of the room.

"GOLLY!" Glinda hissed as she pushed up from her crouch at the explosion. "Couldn't you at least warn me? I'm on your side, you know!"

"The deal is off," her companion growled down at the defeated man. "There's no sense trying to reason with a charlatan, a… an old humbug like you! Become your apprentice?! I am nothing like you and I never will be, and I will fight you until the day I die!"

"Please, this is all a misunderstanding!" the Wizard wailed. But he was drowned out by the sound of the giant doors being wrenched open, of boots thundering across the stone.

"The guards!" Elphaba cursed. "Glinda, grab the broom!"

"You bet I will!" But as she picked it up, she noticed the one in the front of the group. "Oh… oh!"

"Oh, what?" Joining her side, she got an eyeful and said the same herself. "Oh!"

Fiyero Tiggular, his tall, dark looks and lean form, was leading the charge. Fiyero. He definitely looked a bit different than the last time they had seen him, encased in a captain's uniform such as he was. But it was him — a yet more dashing version, if the women were being honest with themselves. Glinda gripped the broom handle tighter, feeling her insides clench, her mind race and grow lighter at the thought of all the myriad feelings she had for him in their days at Shiz.

And he was as shocked to see them as they were to see him. "I don't believe it," he breathed, staggering to a halt, the muzzle of his rifle lowering as he took in the sight of his old friends.

"Thank Oz!" Glinda managed to breathe. "It's so good to see a friendly face!"

After a beat, Elphaba managed to breathe, "I… I thought you might have-"

"Silence, witches!" he commanded, raising the gun again and licking his lips thoughtfully. Elphaba and Glinda were just exchanging a glance when he snapped to the other guards, "Fetch me some water!"

"Water, sir?" one asked. "Isn't it a funny time to come over thirsty?"

"You heard me — as much as you can carry! Go!" They did as they were told, running off. Then he swung back to look at them. "You two have a lot of explaining to do."

Taking a step toward him, Glinda began to plead, "Fiyero, it isn't what you thought! We- that is, everything was- I didn't mean for-"

"I said, silence!" She shot backward, squeaking at the firmness in his voice and the incongruity of being bade to speak and then silenced. To the Wizard, whom had just been reaching up to pull a lever, he said, "Ah, ah! Don't even try it, Your Ozness, or I'll tell these two what the wonderful Wizard is really like."

This must have held some significant sway, because the man withdrew his hand, sinking down to the floor. Elphaba watched this take place, then turned to Fiyero and said in a gentler voice, "What are you doing? Aren't you going to catch us, put us in that cage?"

"Yes, after you frightened me half to death!" Glinda hissed at him. "Waving a gun around in a royal location!"

"No, I don't want to catch you." Again, he stared down at the Wizard, breathing fast and shallow as his chest heaved. "I want you to be free, and this is the only way I can help you."

"I need a drink," the Wizard muttered as he withdrew a green bottle from inside his coat pocket, uncorking it.

"So you truly want to help?" Elphaba asked. "But… what will you do? Leave the guard, just to tag along after us? For some reason, I can't see you doing that."

Nodding sadly, he glanced around the chamber. "Maybe not. But at least I can rest tonight knowing I didn't ignore my convictions."

"For a man with no brain, he sure is full of ideas," Glinda half-laughed. However, Elphaba didn't seem so amused. She approached him with wide eyes.

"Fiyero… we have to save Dr. Dillamond. He must be so frightened!"

Glancing between her eyes and those of the gin-guzzling Wizard on the floor, he nodded. "I'll search for him. You two have to escape; more guards will be coming, and Morrible, I'm sure. If you stick around… there's only so much I'll be able to do to protect either of you."

"Come with us," Glinda urged him, eyes streaming. His eyes were focused on Elphaba, which stung, but she went on, "We have a place - it's not much, barely a hole in the wall. But we're safe there!"

"Meet me in my family's spare castle on the mountain that overlooks Kiamo Ko," he hissed at them when they heard noise in the hallway outside the open doors. "It's abandoned — you'll be safe, and not in a hole! Now go, I'll find you when I can!"

"But you-"

"We have the water, sir!" one guard shouted as he came tromping inside. Fiyero had already raised his rifle to aim at Elphaba and Glinda, though they only gaped at him.

"Good! Throw it upon them — you've heard the rumours!"

Though both women shared a curious glance at that ominous line, they obeyed; not wanting to stick around for an impromptu bath, the witches took flight, Fiyero taking aim and missing them by a wide margin with the single shot he fired off even as water splashed uselessly against the floors. Glinda just caught the look of longing in his clear, piercing eyes before he was out of sight. Lost to them both yet again.

                                                             To Be Continued…