#damn idk how to tag shit LOL

[plague-of-insomnia]

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[gayspock]

not to sound like a cunt but i swear like 2 jokes about something will get passed around and then a load of dipshits will start twisting that everyone is so Utterly Vacuous... god forbid if every post you post to your tumblr blog is not an indepth reflection of your thoughts and feelings. for your tumblr blog is reflective of your Inner mind and soul and you must summon yourself to the Calling of crafting the most perfect and eloquent analysis of the video essay that dropped 2 fucking days ago .

[werebutch]

WSBH chara q’s: (you don’t have to answer all the numbers, just whatever you want to 𖢘)

16/35/51 for Scotch

1/6/55 for Atlas

I LOVE YOU

16. What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

okay i truly think scotch argues with seraph in his head all the time. ALL the time. scotch largely ignores them, and vice versa, because he dislikes them and they know it. seraph is very conflict avoidant lol, and as long as hes not a "threat" they dont care to talk to him about their problems. he probably argues with atlas and jacob (his older brother) too, atlas about more stupid small stuff, and jacob about childhood and life stuff :p

im trying to think of more general groups he would argue with but i cant come up with anything BAHAH. hes not exactly conflict avoidant in the annoying libra way that seraph is, he more just ignores conflict for his friends’ (mostly atlas’) sake. idk if that makes sense LOL

35. What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

hmmm.. smallest? i mean scotch strings eloise along for most of the time pre timeskip. its not a main focus but its definitely important in order to understand scotch as a whole. she and scotch go out for a while, and mid way through that he realizes hes GAY gay. lol. and obviously lying to her about that is pretty questionable after a while. especially since he and atlas have been 👉👌 like the whole time. but she kind of knows. well

something a little bigger would be him encouraging or otherwise turning a blind eye to all the weird stuff atlas is up to. he doesn't know what it's like to be a werewolf, he can't say anything, right? lol.... murder is okay if its a talking dog doing it. scotch enabler supreme. actually when seraph is introduced, he and atlas have a 'joke' (kind of starts being real) about luring seraph somewhere to kill them. obviously doesnt happen and gets abandoned. but i think its important to know about their dynamic LOL

51. What’s a phrase they say a lot?

this guy is kind of goofy. i cant think of phrases rn but he has a specific way of speaking.. you could watch pretty much any old pop punk band interview and kind of get the idea. HAHAH

1. What’s the lie your character says most often?

atlas is a big fan of saying 'its fine' for all situations ever. family in mortal danger? its fine. completely splitting? its fine. arthritis excruciating? its fine. hes one of those people that dont like to deal with the fawning of others unless hes feeling real special. Ends up putting people in more danger a lot of the time. i think eloise is the only fan of communication in this friend group to be honest. i should have made her the main character

he tends to make promises he cant keep as well, but thats more general..

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

i have NO idea. i feel like atlas would be a music snob, so maybe his favorite 'super underground' bands. otherwise he'd probably never recommend raw human meat to another human (no matter how much scotch asks -__-).. (he would chicken out anyway)

55. What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

um. so atlas hates working out. he especially hates running, you know, the thing that wolves are known for doing a lot of? unfortunately the lycanthropy came with a side effect of pretty bad arthritis, so that doesnt exactly encourage him. he DOES exercise, a lot since hes pretty much required for his ermm "side job", but he hates it 😸 besides the arthritis it’s mostly because I think it’s silly that he hates it. yay

[pl4n]

from a while back

[e77y]

Trying to fix my resume ☝️🤓 Small problem: I sound like a loser no matter what

[moldy-cheese-being]

Hate seeing people be like "stick and pokes always look horrible because of the tiny dots and scarring!!!!" Bc that's what i LOVE about them. The shitty, fuzzy, dots give it a nice rustic, unique look, and scarification is literally a type of tattoo, its just done on purpose instead of "oh oops my stick n poke washed out and now theres just a scar" haha

[evg]

the reblogging culture on simblr is a joke 💀

[doctorwhoisadhd]

i think more general music classes should include punk rock / metal as a genre

[around-your-throat]

how do people vent bro that shit's embarrassing as hell

[thefirstimagifabricator]

i just had a thought so

basically

i'm listening to bnha ost albums and getting emotional over them and thinking abt how much i fuckin love yuki hayashi's soundtracks and how they're why i can never really hate the anime at all even when i see people complain abt things with how it was adapted—and yeah i'll acknowledge when things are cut and be annoyed too but. to say i hate the anime over it?? no i couldn't

and anyway it made me think of how i used to listen to the sao and naruto osts on youtube and sometimes i'd read the comments and it was usually a bunch of dudebros in their late teens-early 30s roughly (iirc lol) talking abt how the soundtracks were so good and how they brought up nostalgia from when they were 7, 9, 12, 13, etc etc. and i just thought. like damn

so many people on my side of fandom spaces may hate on dudebros in their fandoms but like. many of them are just here enjoying the story yk??? and like. we're such different people and yet we love the same story and (in my case example specifically) all appreciating the music from that same show and reminiscing the same moments and well. maybe we're not so different after all yk and isn't that beautiful???

me personally it makes me want to cry a little

bc we're such different people but at the end of the day we're also two people whose hearts were both touched by the same story, two people who love the same story—and through that, in that way—even though we're so different at a face level—can't we still understand each other??? can't we still find a way to reach each others hearts???

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 66

Chapter; Highlights, etc. (you know the drill😂)

Aelin awoke to the scent of pine and snow, and knew she was home.

Not in Terrasen, not yet, but in the sense she would always be home, if Rowan was with her.

His steady breaths filled her right ear, the sound of the well and truly asleep, and the arm he'd draped across her middle was a solid, warm weight. Silvery light glazed the ancient stones of the ceiling.

Morning—or a cloudy day. The halls beyond the room offered shards of sound that she sorted through, piece by piece, as if she were assembling a broken mirror that might reveal the world beyond

Apparently, it had been three days since the battle. And the rest of the khagan's army, led by Prince Kashin, his third-eldest son, had arrived.

It was that tidbit that had her rising fully to consciousness, a hand sliding to Rowan's arm.

A caress of a touch, just to see how deeply the rejuvenating sleep held him. Three days, they'd slept here, unaware of the world. A dangerous, vulnerable time for any magic-wielder, when their bodies demanded a deep sleep to recover from expending so much power.

That was another sliver she'd picked up: Gavriel sat outside their door. In mountain lion form. People drew quiet when they approached, not realizing that as soon as they passed him, their whispers of That strange, terrifying cat could be detected by Fae ears.

Aelin ran a finger over the seam of Rowan's sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath. Clear her head, her body felt clear. Like the first icy breath inhaled on a winter's morning.

During the days they'd slept, no nightmare had shaken her awake, hunted her. A small, merciful reprieve.

Aelin swallowed, her throat dry. What had been real, what Maeve had tried to plant in her mind-did it matter, whether the pain had been true or imagined?

She had gotten out, gotten away from Maeve and Cairn. Facing the broken bits inside her would come later.

For now, it was enough to have this clarity back. Even though releasing her power, expending that mighty blow here, had not been her plan.

Aelin slid her gaze toward Rowan, his harsh face softened into handsomeness by sleep. And clean—the gore that had splattered them both was gone. Someone must have washed it away while they slept.

As if he sensed her attention, or just felt the lingering hand on his arm, Rowan's eyes cracked open. He scanned her from head to toe, deemed everything all right, and met her stare.

"Show-off," he muttered.

Aelin patted his arm. "You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince."

He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. "Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?"

She debated it-telling him, revealing it.

Maybe.

Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.

Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?

She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket.

"I sent a letter-when we were at that port in Wendlyn."

Rowan nodded. "To Aedion."

"To Aedion," she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn't hear from his spot outside the door. "And to your uncle. And to Essar." Rowan's brows rose. "Saying what?" She hummed to herself. "Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while 1 was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans."

Her mate went still. "With what goal in mind?"

Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails.

"Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things."

Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. "You think a letter could do that?"

"It was strongly worded." He gaped a bit. "What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?"

"Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things." She swallowed. "I might have mentioned that she's possibly Valg."

Rowan started. Aelin shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth."

"Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true."

She waved a hand. "We'll see if anything comes of it."

"If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "It'd be a boon in this war."

"I scheme and lie so grandly, and that's all the credit I get?"

Rowan flicked her nose. "You'll get credit if her army doesn't show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely." At her frown, he said, "Essar doesn't wield much power, and my uncle doesn't take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve ... it would be monumental. If they even survived it."

Her stomach churned. "It's their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts." Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.

Rowan smirked. "And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve's throne? Any other surprises I should know about?"

Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. "There are no more." At his raised brows, she added, "I swear it on my throne. There are no more left."

The amusement in his eyes guttered. "I don't know whether to be relieved."

"Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now."

With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.

"Do you think you could do it again?" he asked. "Draw up that much power?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It required being ... contained. With the irons."

A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You never will again." It was the truth.

"If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I'll be glad not to."

Aelin ran a hand down the powerful muscles of his thigh, fingers snagging in the rip of fabric just above his knee. "I didn't feel you get this wound through the mating bond," she said, grazing the thick ridge of the new scar. A trophy from the battle. She made herself meet his piercing stare. Did Maeve somehow break that part of it? That part of us?

"No," he breathed, and stroked the hair from her brow. "I've realized that the bond only conveys the pain of the gravest wounds."

She touched the spot on his shoulder where Asterin Blackbeak's arrow had pierced him all those months ago. The moment she'd known what he was to her.

"It was why I didn't know what was happening to you on the beach," Rowan said roughly. Because the whipping, brutal and unbearable as it had been, hadn't brought her to the brink of death. Only into an iron coffin.

She scowled. "If you're about to tell me that you feel guilty for it—"

"We both have things to grapple with—about what happened these months."

A glance at him, and she knew he was well aware of what still clouded her soul.

And because he was the only person who saw everything she was and did not walk away from it, Aelin said, "I wanted that fire to be for Maeve."

"I know." Such simple words, and yet it meant everything-that understanding.

"I wanted it to make things ... better." She loosed a long breath. "To wipe it all away." Every memory and nightmare and lie.

"It will take a while, Aelin. To face it, work through it."

"I don't have a while."

His jaw tensed. "That remains to be seen." She didn't bother arguing. Not as she admitted, "I want it to be over."

He went wholly still, but granted her the space to think, to speak.

"I want it to be over and done with," she said hoarsely. "This war, the gods and the Wyrdgate and the Lock. All of it." She rubbed her temples, pushing past the weight, the lingering stain that no fire might cleanse. "I want to go to Terrasen, to fight, and then I want it to be over."

She'd wanted it to be over since she'd learned the true cost of forging the Lock anew.

Had wanted it to be over with each of Cairn's lashes on the beach in Eyllwe. And all he'd done to her afterward. Whatever it might bring about, however it might end, she wanted it to be over.

She didn't know who and what it made her.

Rowan remained silent for a long moment before he said, "Then we will make sure the khagan's host goes north. Then we will return to Terrasen and crush Erawan's armies." He brought her hands to his mouth for a swift kiss.

"And then, after all that, we'll see about this damned Lock." Uncompromising will filled his every breath, the air around them.

She let it be enough for both of them.

Tucked away his words, his vow, all those promises between them and extended her palm in the air between them.

She summoned the magic-the drop of water her mother's bloodline had given her.

Mab's bloodline.

A tiny ball of water took form in her hand. Over the calluses she'd so carefully rebuilt.

She let the gentle, cooling power trickle over her. Let it smooth the jagged bits inside herself and sing them to sleep. Her mother's gift.

You do not yield.

When the Lock took everything, would it claim this part as well? This most precious part of her power? She tucked away those thoughts, too.

Concentrating, gritting her teeth, Aelin commanded the ball of water to rotate in her palm.

A wobble was all she got in answer.

She snorted. "Faerie Queen of the West indeed."

Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. "Keep practicing. In a thousand years, you might actually be able to do something with it."

She whacked his arm, the droplet of water soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. "It's a wonder I learned anything from you with that sort of encouragement." She shook the wetness from her hand. Right into his face.

Rowan nipped at her nose. "I do keep a tally, Princess. Of all the horrible things that come out of your mouth."

Her toes curled, and she dragged her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken strands. "How shall I pay for this one?"

On the other side of the door, she could have sworn that cat-soft feet quickly padded away.

People gawked in the halls, some whispering as they passed.

The queen and her consort. Where do you think they've been these past few days?

I heard they went into the mountains and brought the wild men back with them.

I heard they've been weaving spells around the city, to protect it against Morath.

Rowan was still smirking when Aelin emerged from the communal ladies' bathing room.

"See?" She fell into step beside him as they aimed not for their room and ravishment, but for the hallway where food had been laid out.

"You're starting to like the notoriety."

Rowan arched a brow. "You think that everywhere I've gone for the past three hundred years, whispers haven't followed me?" She rolled her eyes, but he chuckled. "This is far better than Cold-hearted bastard or I heard he killed someone with a table leg."

"You did kill someone with a table leg." Rowan's smirk grew.

"And you are a cold-hearted bastard," she threw in.

Rowan snorted. "I never said those whispers were lies."

Aelin looped her arm through his. "I'm going to start a rumor about you, then. Something truly grotesque."

He groaned. "I dread the thought of what you might come up with."

She adopted a harsh whisper as they passed a group of human soldiers. "You flew back onto the battlefield to peck out the eyes of our enemies?" Her gasp echoed off the rock. "And ate those eyes?"

One of the soldiers tripped, the others whipping their heads to them. Rowan pinched her shoulder. "Thank you for that."

She inclined her head. "You're very welcome."

Aelin kept smiling as they found food and ate a quick lunch-it was midday, they'd learned-sitting side by side in a dusty, half-forgotten stairwell. Much like the days they'd spent in Mistward, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen while listening to Emrys's stories.

Though unlike those months this spring, when Aelin set down her plate between her feet, she slid her arms around Rowan's neck and his mouth instantly met hers.

No, it was certainly not at all like their time at Mistward as she crawled into Rowan's lap, not entirely caring that anyone might stride up or down the stairs, and kissed him silly.

They halted, breathless and wild-eyed, before she could decide that it really wouldn't be a bad idea…

… If Aelin was being honest with herself, she was still debating hauling him into the nearest closet when they set off to find their companions at last. One glance at Rowan's glazed eyes and she knew he was debating the same.

Yet even the desire heating her blood cooled when they entered the ancient study near the top of the keep and beheld the gathered group. Fenrys and Gavriel were already there, Chaol with them, no sign of Elide or Lorcan.

But Chaol's father, unfortunately, was present. And glowered as they entered the meeting that seemed well under way. Aelin gave him a mocking smile and sauntered up to the large desk.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with Nesryn, Sartaq, and Hasar, handsome and brimming with a sort of impatient energy. His brown eyes were welcoming, his smile easy.

She liked him immediately.

"My brother," Hasar said, waving a hand without looking up from the map. "Kashin." The prince sketched a graceful bow.

Aelin offered one back, Rowan doing the same. "An honor," Aelin said. "Thank you for coming."

"You can actually thank my father for that. And Yrene," said Kashin, his use of their language as flawless as his siblings'.

Indeed, Aelin had much to thank the healer for.

Nesryn's sharp eyes scanned Aelin from head to toe. "You're feeling all right?"

"Just needed to rest." Aelin jerked her chin at Rowan. "He requires frequent naps in his old age."

Sartaq coughed, keeping his head down as he continued studying the map.

Fenrys, however, laughed. "Back to your good spirits, I see."

Aelin smirked at Chaol's straight-backed father. "We'll see how long it lasts."

The man said nothing.

Rowan motioned to the desk and asked the royals, "Have you decided-where you shall march now?"

Such a casual, calm question. As if the fate of Terrasen did not rest upon it.

Hasar opened her mouth, but Sartaq cut her off. "North. We shall indeed go north with you. If only to repay you for saving our army-our people."

Aelin tried not to look too relieved.

"Gratitude aside," Hasar said, not sounding very grateful at all, "Kashin's scouts have confirmed that Terrasen is where Morath is concentrating its efforts. So it is there that we shall go."

Aelin wished she had not eaten such a large lunch. "How bad is it?"

Nesryn shook her head, answering for Prince Kashin, "The details were murky. All we know is that hordes were spotted marching northward, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake."

Aelin kept her fists at her sides, avoiding the urge to rub at her face.

Chaol's father said, "I hope that power of yours can be summoned again."

Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. "Thank you for the armor," she crooned.

"Consider it an early coronation gift," the Lord of Anielle countered with a mocking smile.

Sartaq cleared his throat. "If you and your companions are recovered, then we'll press northward as soon as we are able." No objections from Hasar at that.

"And march along the mountains?" Rowan asked, scanning the map. Aelin traced the route they'd follow. "We'd have to pass directly before the Ferian Gap. We'll barely clear the other end of this lake before we're in another battle."

"So we draw them out," Hasar said. "Trick them into emptying whatever forces wait in the Gap, then sneak up on them from behind."

"Adarlan controls the entire Avery," Chaol said, drawing an invisible line inland from Rifthold. "To pass north, we have to cross that river anyway. In picking the Gap as our battleground, we'll avoid the mess that would come with fighting in the midst of Oakwald. The ruks, at least, would be able to provide aerial coverage. Not so with the trees."

Rowan nodded. "We'd need to march the majority of the host up into the mountains, then—to come at the Gap from where they'd least expect it. It's rough terrain, though. We'll need to pick our route carefully."

Chaol's father grumbled. Aelin lifted her brows, but his son answered, "I sent out emissaries the day after the battle-into the Fangs. To contact the wild men who live there, if they might know of secret ways through the mountains to the Gap."

Ancient enemies of this city. "And?"

"They do. But at a cost."

"One that shall not be paid," the Lord of Anielle snapped.

"Let me guess: territory," Aelin said.

Chaol nodded. Hence the tension in this room.

She tapped a toot as she surveyed the Lord of Anielle. "And you won't give one sliver of land to them?"

He just glared.

"Apparently not," Fenrys muttered

Aelin shrugged, and turned to Chaol. "Well, it's settled, then."

"What is settled?" his father ground out.

Aelin ignored him, and winked at her friend. "You're the Hand to the King of Adarlan. You outrank him. You're authorized to act on Dorian's behalf." She gestured to the map. "The land might be a part of Anielle, but it belongs to Adarlan. Go ahead and barter it."

His father started. "You—"

"We are going north," Aelin said. "You will not stand in our way." She again let some of her fire kindle in her eyes, set the gold in them burning. "I halted that wave. Consider this alliance with the wild men a way to repay the favor."

"That wave destroyed half my city," the man snarled.

Fenrys let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Rowan snarled softly.

Chaol growled at his father, "You're bastard."

"Watch your tongue, boy."

Aelin nodded sympathetically to Chaol. "I see why you left."

Chaol, to his credit, winced and returned to the map. "If we can get past the Ferian Gap, then we continue northward."

Past Endovier. That path would take them right past Endovier. Aelin's stomach tightened. Rowan's hand grazed her own.

"We have to decide soon," Sartaq declared.

"Right now, we sit between the Ferian Gap and Morath. It would be very easy for Erawan to send hosts to crush us between them."

Hasar turned to Chaol. "Is Yrene anywhere near done?"

He leaned an elbow against the arm of his wheeled chair. "Even with the few survivors, there are too many of them. We'd be here weeks."

"How many injured?" Rowan asked.

Chaol shook his head. "Not injured." His jaw tightened. "Valg."

Aelin frowned. "Yrene's healing the Valg?"

Hasar grinned. "In a manner of speaking."

Aelin waved her off. "Can I see?"

They found Yrene not in the keep, but in a tent on the remnants of the battlefield, leaning over a human man thrashing upon a cot. The man had been restrained to anchors in the floor at his wrists and ankles.

Aelin took one look at those chains and had to swallow.

Rowan laid a hand on her lower back, and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.

Yrene paused, her hands wreathed in white light. Borte, sword out, lingered nearby.

"Is something wrong?" Yrene asked, the glow in her hands fading. The man sagged, going boneless as the healer's assault on the demon inside him halted.

Chaol steered his chair closer to her, the wheels equipped for rougher terrain. "Aelin and her companions want a demonstration. If you're up for it."

Yrene smoothed back the hair that had escaped her braid. "It's not really anything that you can see. What happens is beneath the skin—mind to mind."

"You go up against Valg demons directly," Fenrys said with no small amount of awe.

"They're hateful, cowardly wretches." Yrene crossed her arms and scowled at the man tied to the cot. "Utterly pathetic," she spat toward him—the demon inside him.

The man hissed. Yrene only smiled. The man—the demon-whimpered.

Aelin blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fall to her knees. "Show me. Do whatever it is you do, but show me."

Borte said, "It's not very exciting with them tied down, is it?"

Sartaq threw her an exasperated glare. As if this were a conversation they'd already had many times. "You can be on mucking duty, if you'd prefer."

Borte rolled her eyes, but turned to Aelin, looking her over with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate. "Any other missions for me?"

Aelin grinned. "Not yet. Soon, perhaps." Borte grinned right back. "Please. Please spare me from the tedium of this."

"And you believe them?" Fenrys asked.

Hasar patted the hilt of her fine sword. "Our interrogators are skilled at retrieving the truth."

Aelin ignored the roiling in her stomach.

"So you free them," Gavriel said, silent for minutes now, "and then torture them?"

"This is war," Hasar said simply. "We leave them able to function. But we will not risk sparing their lives only to find a new army at our backs."

"Some willingly joined Erawan," Chaol said quietly. "Some willingly took the ring. Yrene can tell, when she's in there, who wanted it or not. She doesn't bother to save those who gladly knelt. So most of those she does save were either fools or taken forcibly."

"Some want to fight for us," Sartaq said.

"Those who pass our vetting process are allowed to begin training with the foot soldiers. Not many of them, but a few." Fine. Fine, and fine.

Yrene gasped, her light flaring bright enough that Aelin squinted.

Yrene slumped back, Chaol shooting out an arm to brace her. The healer only took a perch on the arm of his chair, a hand on her heaving chest.

Aelin gave her a moment to catch her breath. To manage such a feat was remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.

Yrene said to no one in particular, "That demon didn't want to go."

"But it's gone now?" Aelin asked

Yene pointed to the man on the cot, now opening his eyes. Brown, not black, gazed upward.

"Thank you," was all the man said, his voice raw.

And human. Utterly human.

[giliath]

How to write like I've read more than just Warrior cats books

How to write well

How to write sexy

How to write not terribly

How to write

[moistvonlipwig]

that "but" doing a lot of heavy lifting !

[coridallasmultipass]

(This is just an apology I owe someone I will probably never see again. Please ignore, I just needed to get it off my chest 16 years later. I'm not a good person, and I was very cruel as a teen.)

Hi. I'm sorry I wronged you. I treated you terribly when you gave me that letter. It was my fault, obviously. You were such a kind person to me, and we could have been great friends. You shot your shot, and that was totally normal and fair. I just want to explain why I reacted that way, because it was completely uncalled for.

I was living as a girl then, and had no idea that I had this trans man living inside me all along. I didn't know it, but my friendships with men felt so important and validating to me. I felt like I could be one of the bros without realizing that there was an actual personal reason why I needed that validation and mirroring. I guess, at the time, I would have chalked it up to 'daddy issues' from having a continually absent father figure,' which is incredibly reductive and dismissive, and was never genuinely my issue. I felt safe when it was me hanging out with some guys, especially when we often had more interests align which was rare to find in female friends. It's not easy being a kid into metal, alt fashion, art, and nerdy things, when you live in a rural small town where sports is considered the 'ideal' for teens. But you already know that. You lived it, too. You just didn't have the societal pressure to perform femininity, when you're not a girl, on top of it. ((But who knows, you could be a trans woman right now and struggling with your own issues from the other side, I really don't know you.))

But boy, did I PERFORM femininity. The metal scene wasn't the best inspiration for women. You had to be a hot sexy metal babe or you wouldn't get dick. No love for the androgynous women (except lesbians. Go lesbians, I love you.) At least that's what it felt like to 14-year-old me. I had to struggle with the fact that I wanted to look like the band members, not the women they were pictured with. I showed my hairstylist pictures of band men and short-haired Rihanna so I had at least one girl on there. I don't know where I'm going with this. I tried to do both perform the femininity, and doing small things to look more like the band guys I idolized, finding excuses to portray men in acting/roleplay/costumes. 'Because I had a crush on them, right?' No, because I wanted to BE them. Iwanted to be wanted as a man. Not as some metal babe. Being desired as a woman felt horribly invalidating, and I couldn't have ever explained why until now.

It's not a valid excuse, but I reacted that way because I felt safe around you. So safe. You were a dude, my bro, and I could be myself without feeling like I'm being 'tested' for performing human femininity like I did around girls. Like I walk into a room and everyone stops and glares at me. That's what I felt like, that hypervigilance, without knowing what that word meant. You were a good friend, kind, interesting, naturally attractive, and cool. I can't explain it, but it felt like betrayal when you gave me that letter. Suddenly, I was a 'love interest' and not 'fellow bro' and it hurt me so badly to believe that our friendship was built on you viewing me as a girl, not an equal. (That sounds absolutely horrible, I'm not implying that women are 'less," just that it made me feel like I was being unseen, that your feelings were for someone i was not.) I felt like our friendship was built on a lie. I felt disgusted at myself for reasons I didn't understand.

I reacted horribly. I wrote you that shameful e-mail in response. I tried burning that letter because I'm a dramatic hoe, but couldn't get the fireplace open, so I had to blow it out and instead melted and shredded it into the sink disposal. My mom came home and smelled the smoke and thought I was trying a cigarette. (I didn't try a single drug until I had a cigarette in fall of 2017, age 23.) Do we address the situation like an adult with calm words and ponder why we feel all these negative emotions, or do we SINK GO BRRRRRRRR DESTROY THE EVIDENCE?

14-year-old Cori go BRRRRRRRR, apparently.

I mean, I was a KID. Kids are mean as fuck.

It's no excuse, but I can look back on that now and say definitively that it was a result of not understanding my gender identity. I know I'm gay (not to mention, aro), but I did things counter to that, like have a phase of being a lesbian/bi/pan-preferring woman. if being attracted to women made me feel more butch and manly, then 'hey, look at that chick's thighs, bro…' I was gonna play it up.

Anyway, my point, discovering gender was like, literally taking off a suit of armour that never fit right because it was too small for me. I took off that suit of armour at age 19. It felt freeing to have no gender at all. I could do anything I wanted to find what fit me, trying on anything and everything. I finally found that fit in 2015. I'm a dude. This armour fits me perfectly now, and it flexes with my movement. But i still have the chafing and bruises from wearing the wrong armour for so many years.

I should have gently told you that I wanted to stay just friends. Instead, I was spiteful and mean for something that was my own fault. I refused to address my own gender problems, avoiding them entirely and dumping them onto you. I should not have been so immature as to do that and then entirely avoid you forever after.

So, I am deeply and truly sorry. I have regretted it every moment since I clicked 'send.' I hope you've entirely forgotten me by now. I hope you're doing well and still playing music and being your own creative self. I hope you're making mad bucks doing whatever the fuck you love. I'm sorry.

[krockat]

hi i was randomly reading tags late at night on videos, and i saw yours you added onto https:// www dot tumblr dot com/krockat / 726501511214022656 a while back asking for the source of the music and not sure if you ever figured it out so apologies if you did, but its part of the ost from the anime black butler, not a game! but if someone did use it in a game i hope you find it too!

ouffh..... anon........

see... in that post in those very tags you speak of.. . I.. i did promise i would give plenty praise and love to those who would help solve my mystery.....

and you did nothing wrong anon.

you are a beacon of light, a shining example of a person just randomly going out of their way to be a nice little light-shedder-on-er-er, while prev just doing some'n simple n pleasurable (as pleasurable as the mixed crockpot of reading random strangers tags Can be) for themself.

but.. lemme tell you.... this is rough news.

to have a rare glance of something so similar to this great (i mean no, the quality of said game itself might be questionable, but a great soundtrack and alternative Weirdness and nostalgia of a seemingly never discussed old playstation game relic of my memory lossy past - it is despite it all quite great a) mystery -

it was so hopeful and enticing!

and then i learned.. and then i learned.. it was actually from my number one enemy-anime Black Butler!!

you see, black butler and I have history.

apart from it being a creepy show where two adult demons thirst for a child boy (that for some further context also had an unfairly banger ost that deep inspired my youth), it was, infact, and here comes an actual Real trigger warning for the content ahead:

.

.

warning you, here it comes! the tags will have what specific triggers this is about.

.

.

a tool used in grooming me.

so, while i really am grateful for your kind message and explanation - to find that this music that was so similar to what i remember from the soundtrack of the game - was actually from that show? Oh real unfortunate. just realllll unfortunate.

lemme tell ya when i woke up to read i got a notif w the beginning premise that someone had figured out this mystery song - meaning also maybe the coveted mystery game?

even barely awake and conscious as i was, and just really there initially wanting to check what time it was, because my alarm certainly hadn't called yet and the darkness seeping from my curtained window spoke of other promises -

and when then i ofc immediately opened that shit up and was left face to face with the reality of KROCKAT ENEMY-ANIME NUMBER ONE - ?

oh i knew it was gonna be a special kind of day.

so, sorry for no earlier reply but i was put into a certain state of reflection these last couple days.

and it's been interesting, actually

which might sound a tad bit morbid to those inclined,

but well you know us Aquarius Suns(TM) Hahoo - who often find morbid and sad stuff fun and entertaining to think about and toss and turn around like an old sausage in a corporate bodega hot revolver grill. just a lil interest in that

it actually got me to get into a creatory headspace. thinking about all that shit.

so yea pretty good now, but the first hour of gripping w that? yeah. idk how or that i would or could or would want to explain perhaps why or how or in what way that little fact did affect me.

but. you've still done me a great service. and i intend to make good on that reward i did promise whoever would solve my inquiry.

thank you you kind little folk! very very nice of you to come in to my ask and give me answers! you seem like a nice type.

...

but yes a post this long and involved (?) does got to have an end, and one useful trick to end things you don't know how to end is to put music at the end of whatever it is.

now, Best ending would be to have the music of the Actual game's ost i was talking about. but i still don't know what the game is.

Worst ending is probably just that bl*ck b*tler song that baited me (yes i am now "blurring" it out as this is the end part of the post that's meant to end as a reprieve)

and not to say that would necessarily be a bad way to end the post. hells, it might be the interesting (♒🌞) way to conclude this post.

but i think i will just leave you with this.

(sorry that it is a link to spotify. and that it is a from a corporate-y compilation album. and w songs i haven't vetted. i had no choice in what release it was. do you still like me)

(here also comes a youtube link. )

[image ID:

Black and white picture of Swedish jazz singer Monica Zetterlund - on a youtube thumbnail and link to a video upload of her singing the song "Att angöra en brygga".

end image ID.]