#good luck Rosella!!!

[antiquatedsimmer]

Learned how to make sims gameplay gifs today! My sim, Rosella starting her freshman year at Foxbury university!

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hello! Merry Christmas and good luck in the new year! I have a question, I don’t know if it’s been asked already, but I’m interested to know which of your characters is closest to you in spirit? What traits do you have in common with him? And vice versa. Which character is the most difficult for you to write, which you do not always understand: his actions, words and motivation, because you are a real writer and are probably good at the psychology of heroes (I really apologize for the distorted sentences, because I am a foreign subscriber and use a translator)

Absolutely no need to apologize, Nonny! Everything looks great and thank you so much for taking the time to send these thoughtful questions 💕

Y’all already know the rambler in me is getting all excited, so prepare y’all selves! Though I must say, it’s quite hard to pinpoint an answer, mostly because there’s at least a small bit of myself in each of the characters and who’s easiest to write is not always who is the most like me? So naturally, let’s go below the cut, and I’ll split this into sections to make it easier for us to read 😘

1. My spirit characters:

Honesty time. I think that it’s easier for me to put my “negative” qualities into characters and thus also easier to recognize them in hindsight. This is probably because it’s simply often easier to see what needs to be improved in yourself than vice versa, but also probably because I’m a dramatic broad who likes giving her characters flaws.

So although I could probably find a bit of myself in most characters, I would say those who are most like me are Rosella, Zelda, and Violette. Just down to sims traits, Rosella and my simself actually both have the self-absorbed trait (oops). I think this manifests in different ways, but at its core I’m just as likely to follow my wants and cut ties as she is. I also have a ~rather strong~ proclivity for the aesthetic and vain, enjoying beautiful things for their own sake often to the point of distraction. However, I like to think that this is tertiary to me, and my pursuit of them is not as detrimental as it was for her.

Which brings us to, of course, Zelda. Zelda shares this love of the beautiful with her sister, although for her it can extend into the ephemeral and artistic rather than simply the mundane. I would say I share that tendency toward internal existentialism with her, as well as the proclivity to separate from my immediate surroundings rather than live in the present moment. I, like her, can thus often seem “out of it” but in reality we’re just interpreting our surroundings through a distorted, if not tinted lens. However, I’m by no means as artistically talented or reserved as Zelda, which brings us to….

Our little heiress, Violette. Now I’ll try not to get too deep into spoilers here, but Little Lottie and I definitely share some core tendencies. I, like her, despise being told what to do, and will usually become more stubborn or do the opposite simply because of what someone said (whether it’s well intentioned or not). I can also be gregarious, dramatic, and loud when I want to be, and enjoy being the center of attention. However, I think the Zelda in me tempers that so that I need to retreat back into my cave after a while, while Violette thrives on it. I was also raised an only child, so a lot of Lottie’s experience with loneliness and not knowing how to relate to other children is coming from my own childhood.

2. The easiest to write:

So oddly, I don’t think there’s a clear connection between the characters who are most like me and those I find easiest to write. Rather I think that comes from the historical situation that is currently inspiring me, which character fits into that inspiration the best, and how clear of a grasp I have on that character’s personality. This often comes in the form of scenes just appearing in my head, and as I write it’s like the sentences already exist? So there’s this natural understanding between the character and me, where I don’t really have to sort through thought rubble or force their perspective quite as much?

This answer is highly dependent on what part of the story we are currently in. As in, there have been times I have found a character easy to write, and then it will suddenly switch. Zelda is absolutely one of those characters, as her perspective came very naturally to me in parts of the 1910s and then again after motherhood. Now, I find it easier to write the characters surrounding her, and I’m sure it will switch again at some point in the future.

Currently? I find Josephine easiest to write (although she is not very similar to me at all, and her deep fear of commitment is something that I don’t share in the slightest), with Antoine coming in as a close second. Violette’s perspective in the 1940s has also kind of begun presenting itself to me, although at various points I would say that Adelia, Virginia, and Florence have all also been the easiest characters to write for, and those who’s voices have inspired me to come up with new scenes and plotlines.

3. Who even is she?

Now for the characters who are least like me? That one has gotta probably gotta go to Florence, Virginia, and Antoine. As much as I may want to be like Florence, I’m gunna be honest with y’all and say that is not the case. Starting with the fact that I strongly dislike the great outdoors. Farming? Nah. Camping? Absolutely not. Living of the land? What a pleasant dream. What can I say, I am absolutely a Rosella; I enjoy being fancy and comfortable, and Florence in some ways is the antithesis of this. She also embodies selfless generosity and a sort of steady love, which are not things that I would say I really relate to (I once again point you to answer 1 😅).

Now Virginia is a strange one. I was actually very concerned with writing her, because I share none of the righteousness or quickness to action that define her. Likewise, I don’t think that I am able to remain as steady and surefire in tragedy and trauma as she does. So when I first conceived her character I thought I would have great difficulty writing her, but as I mentioned above, despite the fact that she is probably the least similar to me of all the Darlingtons, I found her easy and almost natural to write once we began her storyline.

Which brings us to my baby boy. Sigh. I say this next because Antoine has easily been one of the most natural characters for me to write. I think this is because I had such a clear vision of him from the start that has really been able to grow through the story. So he’s remained who he is through it all, and why I still find him so easy to write.

Despite this, there is very little to none of me in his character, despite the fact that I maybe sorta have a thing for the broken artist stereotype (hello, hubs, I know you’re out there 😙). So there may be some ways in which I wrote my partner into his character’s talent and approach to the world around him, but he is heavily inspired by these ideas of “old fashioned masculinity”, of self-imposed stoicism and protection and fatherhood. These are feelings that I have to imagine rather than pull from experience, but somehow the more I write him the more real they become to me as well.

4. The ~struggle~

Hands down the hardest characters for me to write have been Oliver and Isaiah. I think that Oliver really suffered from the fact that he was my first gen heir, so I was at a place in the story and my writing process where I wasn’t as sure in what I was doing or as good at honing into what I wanted to do. Then by the time this became more clear to me, I had really begun to lean into writing Florence’s character and then his children. So he kind of became less of a focus, and the less I focused on him the harder it was for me to define his voice, which then became a cycle.

I think if I could go back, I would lean more into the connection that I see between him and the romantic poets, really kind of exploring that juxtaposition between idealized nature and reality. I also think his position as a pseudo-wealthy aristocratic and failed businessman had a lot of potential, but alas, you live and you learn.

Now onto the Forgotten Child. Y’all (and I) call him that for a reason, and I think next to his sisters it’s no secret that Isaiah received much less focus (I even have a post about him realizing this 😂). Part of this is just that he’s the youngest, so I really didn’t get much time to explore his adult life or even his teenage years. It’s also because trying to juggle six perspectives all at once means that some are going to suffer more than others.

Now that being said, I am happy with his storylines. However, they often felt more like I was exploring plots I had come up with rather than really viewing things through his perspective. I think this is the biggest challenge to me when having trouble writing a character: it’s that their voice is just for whatever reason not really clear in my mind. Even in the subsequent decades, our English Darlington updates are mostly going to come from Summer, because I still have never really gotten my finger on exactly who Isaiah is. For that reason, my poor forgotten baby boy is probably the most difficult character for me to write.

—

ALSO if you made it this far please know that turning your delightful questions into a multi-paragraph rant about myself is a very self absorbed and very Rosella/Violette thing to do so in the end…I think you have all the answer you need right there 🤣

[ladyathenawisdom]

Shattered / Harry Potter ❀ Pt. 3

"No, I don't like the color."

Rosella let out a loud groan, receiving shrewd and annoyed looks from the people and staff of the dress shop they had come too.

Luna sat next to the brunette who was glaring at Beatrice who had voiced her opinion out against the dress, she stood in front of the changing room she had just come out of. The dress was a long with a off shoulder design, the color was a blood red.

It reminded her of Gryffindor, and Harry, Ron and Hermione. It reminded her of Lily Potter's hair color, it reminded her of blood and all the times they had neglected her.

"It reminds me of Gryffindor," She says simply. She had nothing against the house, she was sure that Godric and Rowena got along in the past but she just didn't want to wear red.

"What about this?" Rosella said grabbing a pretty pink dress, it was quite beautiful but she didn't want to wear something so...babyish. Well, not babyish but pink really wasn't something she wanted to wear for Christmas.

"No. The color of pretty but I don't want to wear that."

Rosella scowls. "Your really picky, you know that? Come on, Luna and I also need to find a dress." She complained.

"Well, I can sit and watch you two and then we can a pick dress for me later." Beatrice told her softly.

Rosella stared at her for a few moments before nodding.

So, it began.

Luna tried only three dresses before deciding a baby blue color dress with long sleeves and ruffles. Rosella, however.....

"No."

"I don't like this one."

"It's too...green."

"This is too short,"

"Okay, this is pretty but I look like cotton candy."

"Wow, but this color is really horrible on me."

"Oh come on! This looks hideous on me."

Beatrice stared at Rosella, her face stoic but inside she was screaming. Tired is what described her, no, exhausted is what perceived her and Luna. They sat in front of the dressing room as their friend continued to try on dresses.

"Okay, I think this is the one." Rosella stepped out to reveal a shimmery purple dress with a sweetheart neckline and black designs on the chest.

Beatrice blinks. "Wow.... you look-"

"Beautiful and unique," Luna intercedes with a mesmerized smile.

"Great!" Rosella claps her hands. She turns to Beatrice with a narrowed gaze, "Now my dear B, it's your turn."

.............

They had no such luck.

The trio of girls had no such luck with finding Beatrice a dress, and that's what they were talking about when they arrived back at the castle, the snow falling gently down on him.

The sky was white, a beautiful pure Dove color, the color of a swan. The clouds were above them, snowflakes falling down on them with a shimmer. The whole castle was covered in snow, it looked like it was decorated with powdery sugar of goodness.

"You couldn't even find a dress!" Rosella's loud voice echoed around the quiet but large hallway of Hogwarts castle. "Who does that? Not one dress appeased you! What does that even mean?!"

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Sprout were walking towards them when they heard the voices growing near them.

"Not one dress! Who does that? Beatrice, you need a dress in two days. We'll go again tomorrow and go to a different store,"

"No. I won't fine a dress. I'd rather go in sweats,"

"The fuck you are!"

"Language, Miss Jones." Professor Sprout told her, the two teachers now in front of them. "That'll be two points from Ravenclaw."

"Oh, man!" Rosella groans out loud, swinging her arm in annoyance.

Professor Sprout shook her head in amusement. "I'll see you, Headmaster." she nods at him before moving forward and walking away from them.

Albus turned to the girls. "I'll see you ladies at the Yule Ball, won't I?" He asks, his eyes lingering on Beatrice.

The three girls nodded and he quickly walked away.

Beatrice watched him go with an intrigued gaze.

...........................

It was during Breakfast the next morning when it happened.

Hedwig was the Snowy owl of Beatrice Potter, Hagrid had gotten it for her. She was a beautiful blue eyed owl that Beatrice absolutely adored and cherished. Her own animal companion.

"Look!" A girl yells as Hegwig holds a large box and drops it before Beatrice and her friends, the owl then takes a seat next to it.

Beatrice looks at the box with furrowed eyebrows, unaware of the blue eyes watching her from the professor's table.

"Did you order something?" Rosella asked, picking apart and eating some green grapes, she popped a few in her mouth.

Beatrice only shakes her head before she stands up and starts opening the box up. She glances up to see most of the Ravenclaw girls glancing at her, she even sees Ron whisper to Harry before they turn to look at her.

She ignores them and opens the box, however when she does open it, a loud audible gasp escapes her.

Rosella jolts forward. "What? What is it?" Peeking in, her eyes widen. "No way!" She yells, grabbing most of the table's attention.

"What?" Luna asks also taking a peek. She then sees a beautiful silver sequined dress, shimmering gracefully, it was folded up nicely. There were also a pair of heels, along with a silver hair clip that had decorative silver flowers.

Luna blinks, a smile growing on her face. "Who sent it?" She asks immediately.

"What?" Beatrice mumbles in confusion, glancing at her best friend.

"Well, you didn't get it."

"Um, I'm not sure." Beatrice mumbles, can't containing the small smile breaking out on her face. She then sees a small note taped to the side.

She grabs it before showing it to the girls.

Dear, Ms. Potter

Hope you like the Dress, I matched it to your preferences.

From, A

Rosella blinks. "Oh my Merlin. Did A send a message to you?"

"What?" Beatrice furrows her brows. "Who's A?"

Rosella's shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, it's from a book series. I was joking." She then smirks mischievously. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer," she sings.

Beatrice blushed, clearing her throat. "Don't be ridiculous. A could be anyone. It could be the dressshop owner that sent me this, she may not like a girl not going with a dress. I hear she's very dedicated to her fashion skills,"

Rosella snorts. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,"

Luna shakes her head. "It's highly unlikely, Beatrice. Why would a seamstress send you a dress when she doesn't even know you, she doesn't even know of your owl much less your preferences. The dress is clearly from someone who knows you, and what you like. That or maybe someone followed you and spied on you to find out what you like,"

Rosella blinks. "Facts. Except the stalking part, that's a bit...creepy."

Beatrice sighs and turns to look at the box, she smiles as she stares at it. She feels the material, staring at the shiny sequins that were glimmering and beaming. She's never been gifted a dress before, she was grateful for whomever gave her the beautiful material.

But who gave it to her? She frowns in confusion before holding the note up, staring at it.

"Oh, well. Atleast you have a dress now, you're going to be the center of attention at the ball now." Rosella sqeals happily, her eyes shining brightly.

Beatrice gave a tight lipped smile, her eyes darting all over the large room before looking at the dress in hand.

She really didn't want the attention, she always got bad attention which got her teased. But she loved the dress, she stared at it with a genuine smile, her eyes gleaming.

..........

"You know, I honestly thought it would be more entertaining."

Beatrice bit her bottom lip as she and her friends were sat in the stands for the Second Task. She frowns, a bit worried for them.

They had to save something under the water, the something was a person. Viktor had saved Hermione, which was totally surprising because she didn't honestly think the two would get together. And Fleur had failed to save her sister.

Which meant.....

"And there he is!"

Beatrice looked to see that Harry had saved both Ron and Gabrielle, Fleur's sister. Harry was wet with water, but Beatrice could still see the arrogant glint in his eyes. He gave a smile, exhausted but the crowd still cheered.

Beatrice sighs, well, atleast Harry was safe. He might have hated her but she still, kinda, cared about him.

Rosella rolls her eyes. "Big deal, blah, blah, blah."

Luna smiles, looking at the whole scene. "It seems as Cedric and Harry are friends," Watching as the two talked.

"Wow, Professor Dumbledore doesn't look happy." Rosella points out.

Beatrice looks at him and sees the headmaster arguing quietly with Barty Crouch, and the other man who was sponsoring the whole thing, she forgot his name. It must have been that the thing was a person.

He certainly didn't look happy. He looked angry, he looked scary when he was angry, and the Dumbledore she knew never really got angry. No one's ever seen Dumbledore angry.

And he looked absolutely scary, so dangerous. She quickly looked away, she watches as Harry tells Ron and Hermione something, causing them to frown.

Well, after this. The Yule Ball will happening, yay. Not to mention her birthday, she was turning 14 after Christmas. She was born a day after Christmas, on Christmas Eve.

That was what she was partly looking forward too. The last three years had been the best as Rosella and Luna always gave her an amazing birthday special surprise, she actually had friends who cared about her.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Beatrice could feel eyes on her as she enters the Great Hall, which had magically been transported into a beautiful venue for Winter.

Instead of the large long tables for the houses, there were small round tables in blue cloths, along with everything else. The theme was winter, so blue, white and silver. Her dress matched the theme.

Rosella had curled Beatrice's hair and put it in a high bun with a few strands falling out. The dress was beautiful on her, along with the silver heels and the clip on her head.

Luna was wearing a blue dress with her hair done while Rosella wore a pretty purple dress, her hair curled and in a ravishing braid.

Beatrice noticed many of the boys looking at her and frowns, she walks beside her friends as they take a seat at an empty table. Why were they staring at her? She looked at all of them, confused, with her furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh man, these aren't real nilla wafers." Rosella said with her mouth full, she looks down at the table where all the goodies like chocolate, biscuits and small cakes were placed.

Beatrice giggled.

Luna looks around the room dreamily, her eyes gleaming with amazement at how well put together everything was. It looked absolutely beautiful, like a true Winter Wonderland. "It's so beautiful," she says with a smile.

Beatrice sighs, looking around with a happy look on her face. "Yes, it really is "

"Oh look, it's Looney Lovegood." A Slytherin girl says walking over, her dress was a short but a puffy green color. Her makeup was dark and smokey, her heels atleast 8 inches or so. "Aww, and it's Boo hoo Potter."

That was another name since Beatrice was also seen as a cry baby.

"Oh look, you covered up your blemishes and pimples." The Slytherin said with a smirk.

Rosella sighs, annoyed. "Don't make me spill my juice on you," she gets up and holds her glass of cranberry juice. The Slytherins immediately back away.

Beatrice frowns. And here she wanted to enjoy a quiet night, a peaceful night where she could have fun. She looked at the front and saw that the dancing was about to begin.

"Come on," Rosella grabs her and Luna and the three walk through the crowd at the front. They all watch as the Champions and their dates get ready.

Beatrice blinks. Fleur was with a boy she didn't know of, Cedric was with Cho Cheng, Viktor Krum was with....Hermione?! Her lips part and she looks to see an angry Ron near the corner.

She looks to see Haryy with Padma, dancing rather, well, not so good. She then sees Ginny dancing with Neville, Beatrice frowns and looks away.

The first time she had met Ginny, she had been a bit cocky. But she was shy when she had seen Harry, she had a crush on him but Harry being him, couldn't see it.

She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

"Hmm, how romantic." Rosella sighs with a content smile. "I wish someone big and strong asked me to dance with him,"

Beatrice chuckles, she smiles as she looks at the dancing in front of them. Now all that was left was the Third Task and then the year would be over. She wished that it didn't, she didn't want to go home to her parents again.

She would be ignored all the way.

What was worse was that Sirius would be joining them. He had to be hidden until a fair trial was given to him, which would take a while since the Ministry was stupid and incompetent.

She sighs and looks around with a frown, bored. She thought it would more exciting, but it wasn't. Sure, people were now starting to dance and music was playing, the decorations were truly amazing but she thought it be more fun.

But it was getting boring. She looked to see Rosellea accept a hand of a shy Hufflepuff and the two start dancing gracefully together. She smiles.

She turns to Luna, but finds the platinum blonde walking away to the table and sit down, a book in her hands. She blinks, she had no idea where Luna had pulled that book out from but atleast she was enjoying herself.

Luna was in the year below them. While Rosella and Beatrice were in their fourth year, Luna was in her third year, same with Ginny Weasley.

"Ms. Potter. Care to dance?"

Beatrice heard gasps and whispers, but she ignored them and turned towards the familar voice. She swallows hard when she sees that Headmaster Dumbledore was staring at her, his hand outstretched for her to take.

He wore a dazzling gray three piece suit, looking more handsome than he was already was. His hair was pushed back in neat style and she could see he was growing a slight beard, however it didn't look like a beard, but she guessed he might have been growing one.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Beatrice blinks in surprise, looking around.

"Would you...?" He nods over at the dancing people. Beatrice stares at him for a few moments before slowly nodding, she places her small dainty hand in his large callused ones.

He leads her over to the main floor, and the two start dancing, Beatrice ignores the piercing stares that she was getting tired of. She glances over Dumbledore's shoulder to see Harry staring at her, his gaze looking between her and the headmaster.

She looks away to see Dumbledore looking at her, like he was analyzing her, his gaze was intense.

"What are you staring at?" Beatrice asks hesitantly, she looks around the ballroom. She sees Madem Maxime and Hagrid dancing together.

"I'm staring at a girl, a sister that your brother hasn't told me about."

Beatrice tenses. "Yeah, well, me and Harry aren't close." She shrugs, giggling nervously.

Albus stares at her, slowly nodding. "I can tell." He states, he frowns at her. "I notice that your particularly quiet, and unlike your brother, you don't meddle in stuff that's dangerous." He twirls her as one of Beatrice's favorite song is played.

And it was a muggle song. Surprisingly.

Two kids with their hearts on fire

Who's gonna save us now?

When we thought that we couldn't get higher

Things started looking down

I look at you and you look at me

Like nothing but strangers now

Two kids with their hearts on fire

Don't let it burn us out

Beatrice laughs. "Yeah, well, I guess I would if I took risks, but I don't. I guess I'm cautious and think things through, I am a Ravenclaw of course."

Albus smiles, nodding. "I guess you are. But you wouldn't help you brother?" He questions, although it came curiously.

Beatrice hesitates.

Think about what you believe in now

Am I someone you cannot live without?

'Cause I know I don't wanna live without you, yeah

Come on, let's turn this all around

Bring it all back to that bar downtown

When you wouldn't let me walk out on you, yeah

"Well," She says with her eyebrows furrowed, Her dress swishing beneath her. "I would, but Harry already has Hermione and Ron. Plus, I'm not special, not like him." She shakes her head, smiling sadly.

"Oh, on the contrary, I think your very special." Albus states rather calmly. "I think your special in your own ways, in more ways than one. Maybe more special than your brother," he states quietly.

Beatrice blinks, her lips parting.

You said, "Hey, whatcha doing for the rest of your life?"

And I said, "I don't even know what I'm doing tonight"

Went from one conversation to your lips on mine

And you said, "I never regretted the day that I called you mine"

So I call you mine

Can I call you mine? (Ooh)

And you said, "I never regretted the day that I called you mine"

"I-uh," Beatrice shakes her head. "Harry literally destroyed Voldermort three times, that's an achievement."

Albus stares at her. "Your not afraid to say his name, Ms. Potter." He notes with a smile.

"Fear of a name only increases the thing itself," Beatrice states, following her feet after his. He twirls her and brings her back to him, she yelps quietly when she meets his chest. She meets his gaze.

"Smart." Albus smiles.

Beatrice smiles back at him. She was actually enjoying herself, she looks around and sighs softly.

Albus stares at her, looking around the room with a contemplative expression on his face. "Don't let them get to you," he speaks up. "Don't let anyone but yourself have a opinion on yourself."

"What?"

"Don't let anyone but yourself have a opinion on yourself," Dumbledore states rather sternly, his gaze dark but also intense. "No one has an opinion on yourself but you. Let people think what they think, they don't define you, you yourself do. You define yourself,"

Beatrice swallows hard, moving to the rhythm.

Dumbledore shakes his head. "There is a reason why your brother is in Griffyndor, they may be brave but they can foolish. Looking for trouble is not the right way, the way Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger do." He sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"While they have a knack for saving people, they also have a knack for doing dangerous things and not thinking everything through." He pulls her closer, "My point, Ms. Potter is that you are special. You are just as special as your brother,"

Beatrice shakes her head. "But I've never done anything heroic, much less meet Voldermort." She frowns.

"You may not have, but I do think your very special. Define yourself. Stand up for yourself. Don't let others dicate what you want to do, what you wanna be, why let them? You are you, not them."

Beatrice bites her bottom lip, never thinking it that way and she was a Ravenclaw. She didn't think that she could be one when she didn't think like that, was she even intellectual? Sheblooks back at him.

"See you soon, Beatrice." Albus gives her a warm smile before pulling apart and walking away, she watched him go. His words rang in her mind, she had no idea what to say to that.

She shakes her head, stood alone on the dance floor, with people surrounding her as they all danced gracefully.

Now, only the third task was left. And then the Triwizard Tournament would end and the winner would be announced. She wondered if it would Vikor, Fleur, Cedric or maybe even Harry. She just knew if her brother won it would definitely boost his ego, their parents would be more proud of him and everyone would love him more.

He would just become more famous, he did enter the tournament, he was only 14, it might have been an unknown accident but still, he was still Harry Potter.

Beatrice swallows hard, she wondered what would happen in the future. For some reason, she felt like something bad would happen, she shakes her head and walks away from the dance floor.

"What's wrong?" Rosella asks, walking towards her.

"I have a very bad feeling." Beatrice whispered.

Rosella only frowns.

⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*⑅୨୧⑅*

Her words were right.

He was back.

Cedric was dead.

Beatrice watched in frozen shock as Lily, James, Sirius and Remus ran towards Harry, who was crying over Cedric's body. She stares at them, tears growing in her eyes, she hesitatinly stands up on shaky legs.

She looks around, noticing everyone screaming and crying. She whimpers, covering her mouth as horror seeped in.

"HE'S BACK! HE'S BACK!" Harry cried out, clutching Cedric's body, not letting go even though Lily was trying to craddle him to her chest, tears streaming down his face. Remus was on his other side while Sirius and James were arguing with Dumbledore, and the other Professors.

"Beatrice!"

She turned to see a crying Rosella hurrying towards her, sniffling. "Did, did you hear?" She whispered.

Beatrice only swallows hard. "Yeah. I did. He's back." She whispered, knowing that her bad feeling had erupted.

[ruleremperors]

How come? So NIN FARTRIKA and Rosella’s ex classmate from INDIA came to torment and scam Rosella?

Arika including nin arika, Miharasan and other FEXL fantards from other countries must f**k away from Rosie’s vag.

Her Bombay Ex Classmate must move on, because she always leave Rosella in pain, she must leave Rosella alone and leave Rosella in peace.

Those ugly propagandist lives matter from other don’t deserve her luck. Those zero quality men turned mega rapists on Rosella, they want to marry because of she’s beautiful and they want to scam her. Those zero quality men wants to dominate not protecting her, of course I knew that, they pretend to be good guys for luring her for trapping her.

[twewyocs]

No! Fuck off heartless savages! Stay away from @rosellabascomacapinlac ! Because of you, the unsettling insecure bigot whores had came to @rosellabascomacapinlac and the house boy wants to rape @rosellabascomacapinlac even more since 2018 and the bigot insecure indian girl came to @rosellabascomacapinlac , it was so extremely rubbish! Isn't that you are a plagues!

You people shouldn't go near to @rosellabascomacapinlac and never EVER taking her artworks again! You are the caused of house boy who became very horny at her!! Almost fucked her and his sperm cells excited to get inside of her womb!! How dare you put love spells on @rosellabascomacapinlac !!! You dick people are the caused of bad luck!! The reasons why we are so suspicious about you since 2011!

You dick people are the caused of Sriram bronzo and kept poisoning @rosellabascomacapinlac's mind for not letting her block bullies and ignore the likes of sriram bronzo, interrupted her mood to block the dicks and interrupted her fight back self defenses! I wonder why those evil spirits i mean your imaginary are so powerful! Turning our friend into a preganable cow! Sririam bronzo is the wrongest friend for Rosella!!! Castlevania curses you turning Rosella into a masochist!!

You dicks are sick fuckers and assholes who never cares about your victim @rosellabascomacapinlac 's lives!! How could you fooled us all! You all sick fuckers wearing a beautiful masks to hid your hideous faces! Your schemes are to trapped us all!

Your stupid Yokai friend wants her uterus for your fortunes! Now fuck off ! Why would the dick ghosts are so powerful taking her body to turn her into a masochist pregnable cow whore! Like she let the fucking rubbish house boy black mail and you fucking dicks made her give all her money to that son of the bitch beggar house boy! So you wanted that hideous house boy to be a disgusting kisser, food stealer, money stealer asshole horny rapist dick to make rosella pregnant and overthrow Rosella and take all the riches! Why you dicks are defending the house boy swine because he is poor!? You dicks think Rosellla is a racist!? Fuck you and fuck off pieces of garbage shits! _l_

Meg don't deserve punish Rosella in the sexual way, I want Sanane and Nanase must dismembered and beheaded for good!!

ChobixPho attemtep to rape Rosella because Arika! Then Matt want to murder Rosella! If Rosella returned to what she should be that means she is safe!!

[thebreakerofchains]

k I know we're all happy w Midnight Sun coming out and all cause renaissance being fed, but...HOW THE FUCK IS MY GAY BRAIN GOING TO ASSIMILATE ALICE/BELLA IS NOT THE REAL COUPLE? OR ROSE/BELLA?

it won't.

[chaseadrian]

mirror on the ceiling - pt. 2

You have exactly one week to stop a big baddie and his entourage of others. Holed up in a hotel room in Vegas, you and Adrian are working undercover as a couple of doe-eyed honeymooners. And though you initially tried to have anyone else to fill the role of your faux-spouse, once you’re in the thick of it you find yourself surprised by him at every turn. (CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3)

pairing: adrian chase x f!reader tags: 18+ ONLY, explicit, fake relationship via undercover, canon typical violence, reader does kill people, feelings denial. word count: 6k a/n: okay so chapter 3 might be a bit delayed bc i’m actually moving across the country soon but i’ll try to get it up as soon as i can!!! 

You were barely wrenching your jeans on by the time Adrian was fully dressed. He’d taken your phone to send Harcourt a text to confirm that murder was, in fact, on the docket for tonight. 

Did you make a reservation? Or just gonna try your luck?

No reservation, meeting at 11:30 still. 

Okay, Stauder didn’t know that Rosella and Haas were in town yet. According to the files, he wasn’t expecting them to be in Vegas until tomorrow morning. Which meant, if you and Adrian played your cards right, Stauder would stay ignorant and start the day tomorrow feeling blown off. 

Adrian handed you the phone after reading the texts aloud, and you shoved it into your back pocket, yanking your sweatshirt down over your head. 

“Hey, uh, Adrian?” 

“Uh-huh.” He was rifling through his bag for the small throwing knives he’d usually had stuck to his ankle. 

“That was just a one time thing, right? I don’t want us to get distracted, and I was tense from what happened upstairs, and thankful to you and it just—it was a one time thing.” 

He looked up at you from the floor, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, mouth open in a slight pout of confusion and franticness. 

“Okay. I don’t know what you were thankful for, actually.” He’d flipped the knives a couple times in his hands before sliding them into the leather sheaths that were strapped underneath his jeans. 

You flipped open your luggage to pull out a sheathed knife, concealing it beneath your waistband. 

“For the…for upstairs, when you kissed me.” 

“That was you. I just pulled you down the hall, but all the lip locking was your sharp thinking.” He stood up from where he’d been crouching, and looked down at you, “I’ll accept the thanks anyway.” There was a smile on his face that lived somewhere between arrogance and joy, his eyes shone with an eagerness that you couldn’t place. In all likelihood it was excitement over the impending assassinations, but despite your better judgment, there was a part of you that wanted him to be thinking of what had happened earlier.

Even if it would only happen once, you wanted his mind to linger on the way it felt, and live with the poisonous need for it to happen again. 

“I—oh. Huh.” You shook yourself out from under your inability to remember the moment clearly. There were more important things to worry about, right now, and in the end it didn’t really matter who kissed who in that moment when hours later you were fucking each other with equal enthusiasm. “Whatever, it’s just not happening again. There’s too much at stake and we need to remain focu—”

Adrian waved a hand in the space between you, “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll fuck you when you ask me to and I won’t fuck you when you don’t ask me to. All good.” 

“What?” You cocked your head at him, trying to make heads and tails of just…him as a person. 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go kill some drug dealers!” He hopped over to the door, grabbing the ice bucket on the way and holding it up to you, “Ice machine on the 17th floor, let’s go babes!” 

You grabbed it from him, and he slid an arm around your waist, opening the door for you and letting you take the lead. 

The elevator ride was short, and you thanked the universe that there were several floors of space between Stauder’s room and the rooms where Ferreiro and Haas were staying. There would and could be no overlap here. 

The elevator stopped at the 14th floor, and when the doors opened you felt Adrian’s grip on your waist tighten. There was Simon Haas, dressed in a pinstriped suit that made him look like the world’s most obvious gangster. Thick rimmed glasses framed his face, fluorescents glinting off the raven strands of his slicked back hair. He offered the two of you a false smile, dead eyes shooting around your body and landing on the bit of collarbone that your sweatshirt didn’t cover. 

“18th Floor. Thanks. Honeymoon?” His speech was punctuated at every syllable, enunciated in a way that said he refused to be misunderstood. 

Adrian spoke up as you kept your eyes on Simon’s, reaching out for the “close doors” button before anyone else could make an entrance. 

“Yeah! The wifey and I are gonna make it big. That’s the only way to afford a down payment on a house in this day and age, right?” He laughed, and you let out a chuckle with him, patting his stomach when he drew you in closer, “You wanna go down to the lobby and do some gambling right now, babes?” 

His free hand reached around behind his back, faking an itch as he kept a thumb on the handle of his favorite knife. 

You’d been holding the ice bucket behind your backs, and you raised it up to where Adrian was scratching at his skin, waiting for an answer. You pressed the cool metal against his hand, forcing it into his fingers. “Nah, I’m kinda tired from the trip. Let’s wait till the casino has cleared out a bit, okay?” 

Adrian nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to your hairline. 

Simon’s eyes were on you the entire time, opening your body up in his mind, only leaving to watch the way Adrian pulled you closer every time his eyes lingered too long anywhere below your neck. 

The elevator dinged at the 17th floor, and Haas took a couple meager steps out of your way, making sure the space was tight enough that your body would still brush against his on the way out. 

“Good luck to you.” He gave you and Adrian a salute, and moved to stand in the center of the space as the doors closed. 

Adrian offered a wave over his shoulder, his hand leaving your waist to do it, and you walked closer to his side until he had you in his arms again. 

You shuddered, “God, what a fucking creep.” 

“You’re okay, right?” He stopped you in the hallway, hand moving from your waist to your shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You nodded, unable to meet Adrian’s eyes, “Let’s just get the fucking keys.” 

He pulled you in for a brief hug, and grabbed your hand, guiding you along the hallways until you found the ice machine. 

While he filled the bucket, you pivoted around to his other side, dropping to the air vent on the side of the machine and unscrewing the top two bolts. Taped on the back was a plastic bag with two key cards inside, you ripped it off and resecured the vent, shoving the bag in the pocket on your sweatshirt. 

Adrian shook the ice bucket, “All good. What’s next, up or down?” 

You grabbed his hand and led him out of the room just as another hotel patron walked in to stare at the vending machine. 

“Down.” 

You two made your way back into the elevator, hitting the button for the 14th floor and pulling out your phone.

How many tickets did John get for the show? 

Your phone buzzed just as the doors opened. 

Seven. Three are on the floor, and four are on the balcony.  

You showed your phone to Adrian, and he nodded before stepping out of the space, your hand in his. 

“We just can’t let them get word to their friends upstairs, okay?” 

He nodded again as you pulled out the key card for this floor. 

The room was just around the corner, dangerously close to the elevator and potential witnesses. But you let yourselves into the adjacent room anyway, sidling up against the wall with the connecting door. 

You stilled yourself with a deep inhale, letting the breath out slowly and cautiously as Adrian caught your eyes.

“I feel naked without my mask.” He whispered, offering a smile. 

You smiled back but put a finger to your lips, pressing your ear closer to the wall to try and hear the guards inside. 

All you heard was the noise of the television, and the occasional snort after a bout of canned laughter. 

“Okay. You stay here.” You whispered to Adrian, “I’m going to go around the front of their room. Wait until you hear their door opening, okay?” 

He nodded, and you crept away from the adjoining door, out of the room, into the hallway. 

You stayed close to the wall, one hand tight on the handle of your knife, the other reaching out to knock on the door. The TV quieted, loud boots coming closer until they stilled for a moment, only to recede right after. You knocked again, and the steps were heavier as the door swung open. 

“You better stop fucking ar—” The bodyguard’s voice was cut off by the knife that you’d stuck in the side of his throat, the weight of your body pushing him back into the room before he was able to bleed on the hallway carpet. 

You threw yourself against him, foot kicking his legs out from underneath him, and he fell sideways on the bathroom floor with a thud. His head cracked on the tile, hands clawing at the wound in his neck, blood choking his windpipe as his breaths turned to desperate gurgles. 

Deeper into the room, Adrian had crept in amidst the commotion, the two remaining bodyguards jolting upright when they saw their third tumbling backwards. The guard closest to the adjoining door was barely out of his seat when Adrian pressed his own knife into the front of the man’s throat, ripping vocal chords and arteries as he yanked it out sideways and flicked his hand. 

The knife flew from one guard to the last, and landed squarely in the side of his head. They both fell within seconds of each other, Adrian’s knife twisting out of the guard’s head as his body bounced against the bed and rolled onto the floor. 

You stepped backwards as the pool of blood from your guard’s neck inched closer to your feet. There was blood spray on your face, but nothing that couldn’t be washed off. Adrian, on the other hand, had spots littering his shirt. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll throw on a robe.” He smiled at you when he noticed your eyes darting around his red freckled face. He walked over to one of the bodies to grab his knife, sliding each side against the dead man’s clothed stomach until it was clear of blood and sheathing it. 

“Get rid of that, too.” You pointed at the hand that was still holding the ice bucket, and he laughed at you. 

“Kinda impressive I held onto it all this time, though, right?” He set it down on the coffee table, grabbing an ice chip and tossing it into his mouth.

As he rifled through the closets trying to find a hotel robe, you thanked your lucky stars that the bathroom was split in two. Shower and jacuzzi tub on one side, sink and toilet on the other. The guard’s blood was pooling against the edge of the tub, and you watched in the mirror as his body gave out a few last twitches before stilling forever. 

Adrian appeared in the doorway behind you, holding out two robes that he hung on a hook before joining you at the sink, splashing water on his bloodied face and scrubbing until it was once again clear. He’d set his glasses down on the counter, and you ran them under the faucet for him until the water ran clear, drying the lenses with your spotless sweatshirt. 

He took them from you when offered, blinking a few times to readjust his eyes. 

“Thanks. I figured we could match.” Adrian went back to the robes, throwing one at you and slipping into the other. 

“Would be kinda weird for only one of us to wear it.” You slid the sheath around to the front of your waistband, leaving the robe tied loosely around you. 

The sound of static in the main room grabbed your attention, and you both quieted to hear the voice on the other end. 

“Confirm the reservation and secure the room for Ferreiro. She’ll be staying with me tonight.” 

Lithe, enunciated syllables, and the bookend of each sentence punctuated with a blatant pause.

There was a prolonged pause in which you and Adrian looked at each other, trying to come up with a cover. A voice cut your thoughts in half, a woman’s. 

“Get off your asses. I know the animal planet is riveting, but I’m not paying you to watch lions fuck.” Her voice was thick, lined with disdain. 

You looked over at Adrian, nodding your head towards the sound, “You have to say something.” You whispered, and he darted over to the walkie talkie on the floor. 

He fumbled with the talk button, loud beeps followed by static followed by more beeping and more static as he reached for the remote to turn the TV back on. The sound blared through the walkie for a moment, before Ferreiro responded. 

“You three are fucking morons. Just do your jobs. Out.” 

Adrian looked at you and shrugged, throwing the walkie on the bed and strolling over to where you were standing. 

“Guess they’re going to dinner?” He said, shoving his hands in the robe pockets. “We gonna wait it out here or what?” 

You turned from him, pacing back and forth in the front hallway. 

“Harcourt said there are four people on the 18th floor, I’m assuming two bodyguards, plus Simon and Rosella. We could take the bodyguards out while they’re at dinner, assuming they don’t go with them. I’d have to check with Economos. Speaking of…”

You pulled out your phone. 

Floor seats sound good. You don’t think we’d get on camera, right? You know I’m camera shy, lol. 

No, definitely not, don’t worry. 

Okay, great, so the hotel cameras hadn’t caught you literally murdering a guy twenty minutes prior. 

Phew. Adrian and I are heading out for dinner soon, table for two or four? 

Four. 

“No dice. Bodyguards are going to dinner. We’re waiting it out here.” 

Adrian flopped onto the couch, “Okay, good with me.” 

You surveyed the room, looking at the bodies on the floor. 

“Take off your robe, we need to move these bodies so Simon and Rosella don’t immediately know they’re walking into a trap.” You shucked off the soft loungewear, hanging it up in the bathroom and crossing the hall to scoot the dead guard closer to the tub. 

Adrian appeared in the doorway, and you motioned towards the dead man’s legs. 

“Alright, into the tub, one, two, three.” The two of you strained to lift him up, he was a tall, broad man, but with a little effort you were able to drop him in. 

Adrian stared at the body, hands on his hips, “This guy is giant, good take down! Reminds me of the time Economos killed a gorilla. We told you that story right?” 

“Yes, every time we go out together someone tells the gorilla story.” 

He nodded, turning to leave the bathroom, “What are we doing with these ones?” 

“We’re gonna stick 'em in these chairs and turn the TV on. Hopefully it’ll look like they conked out watching stuff.” 

You both moved the guard with the torn neck, positioning him so that the gashed skin was facing away from the door. The blood on the side of the other guard’s face had dried, blending in with his dark hair, but you propped his head against the flared back of the seat anyway, just in case. 

Adrian clapped his hands together as if he was wiping dust off, “That was easy enough! Now we just gotta sit here with these bodies, I guess.” 

You stood between the two chairs, eyeing your handiwork and mapping out how the two of you would take on not just two more guards, but two certified criminal kingpins. 

“I’m thinking I can hide in the bathroom, when they come in it’s likely that the guards will wanna do a sweep of the room before Haas and Ferreiro make it past the hallway. I can take out the guard that checks the bathroom, while you get the other. Then it’s a fair fight.” 

“Okay.” He shot you a thumbs up, and strolled over to the empty couch to plop down. “Hey, you should tell Harcourt the plan.” 

“Oh, shit, right, Economos’ll know when they’re coming back up.” 

Waiting in the room till you’re ready. Let us know when you’re on your way.

She sent back a thumbs up, and you plopped right next to Adrian. 

“We’re halfway there, Vig, halfway there.” 

He visibly straightened his posture when you called him that, “Yeah. What are we supposed to do tomorrow now? I blocked the whole day out for killing these dicks.” 

“Well, figured we’d grab some brunch. Make sure Stauder actually does believe he was stood up. Harcourt has some low level agents coming to clean up our mess late tonight, make sure word doesn’t get out.” 

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna traumatize the cleaners.” 

You nodded, letting your head fall onto Adrian’s shoulder. He adjusted his position, leaning towards you and flipping a small throwing knife, his eyes following the blade as it spun in the air. 

“So we just…sit here till we get word from Economos and Harcourt?” 

“Yep.” 

“At least we already ate.” 

You laughed, thinking back on where you were just a few hours ago. Adrian’s dick inside you, his lips on yours, his hands roaming where they liked, the intensity with which he’d stared at you as you came. You were adamant that nothing like that would happen again as long as you were in Vegas, probably as long as you were alive. It was too much of a risk, involving yourself with a fellow agent. 

You’d seen it with Harcourt and Chris. The way he had her back a little more than the rest of you, the way she tried and failed to keep her distance. Harcourt had never led you astray, but you worried how well she was leading herself. 

Chris and Adrian were both cut from the same cloth, grew up together and enabled each other in a way that made them a little more dangerous, a little more unhinged, all impulse and adrenaline and high fives in the aftermath. Chris and Emilia weren’t official, but the connection wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t love, that was certain, but it was something different from the camaraderie that she shared with you or Leota. It was hands that lingered during the passing of a gun, it was knowing each other’s favorite beer and trying new ones together, it was Harcourt rolling her eyes with a smile. 

You wondered what that could be like, with Adrian. If he’d wondered the same, if he was letting you rest on his shoulder because he wanted you there or because you were his friend and he’d never shied from being close to his friends. Even though touch was never something he sought out, just something he knew others needed. You were aware of the handful of threesomes he’d had with Chris, he’d almost jumped at the chance to brag that he was Chris’ go to wingman. So in the moments where your knees knocked together, or he welcomed your head on his shoulder, you wondered if it was more than simply accepting your need for touch, if he’d found himself wanting it too. 

The thoughts came and went every time you and Adrian worked together alone. When you watched him navigate the mission better than anyone on the team thought he could. He was constantly overturning everyone’s expectations, but the casual way with which he bounced back after the work was done had turned into a sort of camouflage. He immediately slid into typical Adrian behavior, and with all the recon time in between being out in the field, it was easy for the team to forget that the man held it down when things got rocky. 

That was expected of all of you, but Adrian and Economos were the only ones who regularly came through in the moment. They set the bar without ever being expected to meet it. 

Fucking Adrian was almost a moment of weakness. You’d never entertained the thought of him before the kiss in the hallway, but once it happened it was like a dam breaking. Rushing water took hold of your lungs, sending a burning need through your whole body until he fucked it out of you. You were focused on the mission, but even now you couldn’t stop lingering on the way the knife flicked out of his hand, the way his fingers tapped against the side of his thigh. 

He noticed you staring and caught the knife once more, sliding it out of sight. 

“Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

He shrugged, “Being distracted, I know we should focus but it’s not like there’s much to occupy our time.” 

“Oh, no. You’re…fine. And you’re right, all we can do is wait.” 

Adrian pulled the knife out again and started flipping it, humming to himself. 

You zoned out again, eyes following the blade as it rotated in the air and landed in Adrian’s hand, over and over. 

“Aren’t you scared at all?” You looked up at Adrian, and he let the knife drop flat on his lap, body tensing until he realized the blade didn’t get him. “Oh, shit, sorry.” 

He waved a dismissive hand, “Ah, whatever. But no, I’m not scared or worried or even nervous at all.” 

“How do you do that?” 

He raised his shoulders and muttered an “I dunno,” before meeting your eyes, “Why? Are you scared?” 

You broke eye contact, nodding, “Well, yeah. I’m always a little on edge during missions. I thought all of us were.” 

Adrian’s lips parted into a small pout, and he put an arm around your shoulders, “Not me. But you wanna know a secret?” He waited until you looked up at him and nodded, “Chris cries after every mission.” 

You pulled away in shock, but kept yourself close enough so his arm was still around your shoulders, “Really?” 

Adrian started laughing, “Yeah. He’s very in touch with his emotions, I guess.” 

Laughing along with him, you watched the dimples that deepened in his cheeks, the way his glasses sat askew on his nose, and you reached up to adjust them. 

He’d stopped laughing, and you jerked your hand back, “Oh, sorry, they were just—” 

You cut yourself off, checking your watch, hands falling into your lap when you saw that it was just past eleven. A little over twelve hours until the brunch with Stauder. 

“Are you still scared?”

“I mean, yeah. But I feel better, anyway. Thanks, Adrian.” 

Adrian squeezed your shoulder, “Anything for my wife.” 

The word tugged at your chest. Was married life even a possibility in this line of work? Adebayo and her wife seemed to make it work, but you’d seen firsthand how much of a toll the job took on them. There were several occasions in which you’d caught Adebayo crying in the bathroom, or been a little early to meetings and watched her through the window as she rolled up a sleeping bag to toss into one of the closets. And it wasn’t like you didn’t understand where Keeya was coming from, it couldn’t be easy watching your partner head off every day, vulnerable in a world full of powerful aliens and superhuman monsters. 

It wasn’t even just Adrian that you thought of when you wondered how feasible a marriage would be. If anything, a marriage to a fellow agent was likely to be the best case scenario. Someone who didn’t know the work��who only knew that it was dangerous and that you might never come home—had far more reason to hold a grudge than someone who knew the ins and outs of what you did every day. 

You eked out a laugh in response to Adrian, and before you could lose yourself further in the train of thought that was running out of tracks, your phone buzzed. 

On our way.

You and Adrian both hopped off the couch at the same moment, running to your respective hiding places. Him, against the wall at the end of the hallway and you right against the edge of the entrance to the bathroom. You were diagonal from each other, and Adrian raised a hand to sign “You’re okay.” followed by a thumbs up before pivoting away from you to keep out of view. 

Holding in a deep breath, you did the same, not releasing the breath until you heard the locking mechanism on the door whir. 

Amidst the loud TV, you heard the two voices from the walkie floating into the space, paused by the door. A guard passed by the open bathroom doorway, gun in his hand, eyes fixed on the main part of the room. There were footsteps across the hall where the sink was, dulled as the second guard crossed the space between the separated bathroom.

A gruff voice came from the guard that had passed the doorway, “You fuckers, what did they tell you about—”

Right as the second guard took his first steps into the bathroom, he whipped his head backwards at the sound of a knife meeting flesh. You took the opportunity to shove your own piece into the guard’s ear, flesh squelching and blood dribbling out as he flailed with the gun in hand. You grabbed his wrist and knocked it against your knee, the gun clattering onto the tile as you did your best to guide his body down rather than just letting it thud. 

By the time you looked out the doorway, Simon and Rosella had found cover across the hall. You caught Adrian’s eyes as he was pulling the knife from the other guard’s skull, right where his jaw met his ear. He’d taken the gun from the man and was bracing himself against the hallway wall. 

You reached for the gun that you’d knocked out of the man’s hand, hearing the sharp whiz of a silenced bullet above your head. Plaster crumbled on top of you, and you stayed low, hazarding a look out of the bathroom entrance. Just as quickly, you darted out of view when the dead gaze of Simon peered out from their doorway. 

“This is not a smart idea.” His voice cut through the air, and another bullet busted through the wall. 

“Why not?” It was Adrian who responded, and all you could do was listen as you stayed low and close to the wall. 

“This is how you want to die? In a hotel bathroom in Vegas? Even Elvis’ death was more dignified, he passed at home.” Rosella spoke up, a lilt of comedy in her tone, almost teasing you. 

You could see Adrian inching closer to the entrance across the hall, white knuckling the handgun, but breathing steady as ever. 

There was a coarse laugh from Simon, and it was cut off by the abrupt bang of Adrian’s gun. He’d announced his entrance in the doorway with that gunshot, and leapt into the bathroom with you before Simon’s body could slump all the way to the floor.

“Yeah, well, we’re not fucking Elvis!” He shouted, facing you from the other side of the doorway, eyebrows furrowed in anger. “Your partner is a fucking pussy, Ferreiro.” He spat the words at her, “Sorry. Was.” 

Adrian nodded for you to take a look, and you did just in time to see Rosella ducking out of view at the end of the hallway. You motioned for Adrian to stay there, and he listened, but stood up when you did, gun held tight at his hip. 

You darted across the hall to the toilet, kneeling beside Simon’s body and pressing two fingers to his neck. No pulse. Granted, there was a hole in his head, but you’d seen targets survive worse. 

“Your partner is dead, Rose.” You shouted, standing back up and peering around the corner. 

“No fucking shit, bitch.” She yelled back, and you placed her on the right side of the room. You motioned for Adrian to move across the hall, and he did, sidling right up behind you. 

His warm breath on your neck only stirred you to get this over with quicker, the collected way he approached this inspired you to finish the job in a similar way. As you stepped out of the doorway to creep down the hall, you heard the distinct sound of a door opening, and you quickened your step a bit to catch Rosella before she made it through the adjoining door. 

You peered out of the hallway and saw the door click shut, silently cursing yourself for being too slow.

Adrian stepped in front of you, hopping over to the door, gun still in hand. 

You watched him hit the floor as Rosella kicked his feet out from under him. His head smacked hard on the carpeted floor, and his grip on the gun loosened, sending it flying against the headboard with a loud thud. She leapt onto the bed to grab it, but you were faster on your feet and had already run into the room, darting towards her hands and jamming your gun hard against her wrist as she aimed at Adrian. 

Rosella yelped and lost her grasp on the gun, but she reached out with her free hand and knocked you in the cheekbone. You recoiled from the strike, scrambling onto the bed, and smashing her in the face with the gun. Her nose broke with a loud crack, blood seeping out from her nostrils as you hit her again, and again until she fell back onto the pillows, spitting teeth and swallowing the blood that ran down her throat. 

“Tell Elvis we said hi, bitch.” You jammed the gun into her mouth and pulled the trigger. Brain matter and bone fragments sprayed in all manner of directions, and you threw the gun onto her body. 

You crawled on your knees off the bed, towards Adrian, who was groaning as he sat up. You placed a hand on the back of his head, feeling for blood. Nothing, at least you were lucky in that regard. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me. You okay?” You put a hand on the side of his face, waiting until his eyes met yours. 

He offered you a goofy smile, “Yeah. All good. I will have a headache though.”

“You could have a concussion, Adrian.” 

He waved you off, “Nah, trust me, I’m fine.” 

Helping him up, you walked over to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet, running the sink and soaking your hands to wipe off the blood that speckled his face. You did the same for yourself before grabbing the robes you’d hung up earlier and handing one off to Adrian. 

He perked up, standing to wrap himself in the comfy cotton, “We need to leave just in case someone heard those gunshots.” 

You tied up the robe and slid a hand into his, “Trust me, I don’t want to be in this room any longer than necessary.” 

The two of you made your way back into the main room, looking back at your carnage before leaving the room via the adjoining door.

In the darkness of this room, you both fell against the wall with a heavy sigh, eyes meeting and exhausted laughs escaping your lips. 

“They were embarrassingly easy to kill.” Adrian remarked, and you let out a snort. 

You stayed there for a minute or two, letting the adrenaline drain from your bodies and catching your breath in the stillness of the darkened room. As his breathing cooled, Adrian lifted a hand for a high five, and you slapped yours against it. 

He threw an arm around your shoulder and led you out of the room, all the way to the elevator. 

When the doors shut, he slid the hand that was around your shoulder to the back of your head, guiding you to the back wall of the space and leaning over you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips, and you just nodded. 

“Yeah?” He questioned, and you pulled him down by the lapels of his robe into a kiss. 

Adrian pressed his body into you, swallowing you with each kiss, his tongue twisting with yours as you kissed hungrier and wetter and lazier. The elevator dinged, and you both broke away from the kiss. 

As you wiped the saliva from your mouth, a yawn overtook you and your eyelids started feeling heavier. Adrian pulled you by the hand to the room, and you put a hand on his chest to still him when he leaned in for another kiss against the door. 

“Hey I’m…I’m tired. And I meant what I said about earlier being a one time deal. There’s just too much at stake.” You pulled the room key from your back pocket and held it against the locking mechanism, gears whirring and chirping as the light turned green. 

“Oh, okay. Understood.” Adrian spoke while you had your back turned, following you into the room and undressing on his way to the bathroom. He shut the door and the muffled sound of the shower came soon after. 

You shucked off your robe and the rest of your clothes, sticking your knives into Adrian’s backpack. A shower sounded nice, but with how fast sleep was overtaking you, waiting for Adrian to get out of the bathroom just seemed like too big a chore. You settled instead for a change of underwear and a worn t-shirt, slumping over to the bed to gather the blankets from the floor and toss them on the mattress. 

They were cool and soft when you slipped underneath, the comfort of the bed working out the tension in your body. 

As your eyes were sliding shut, the buzzing of your phone jolted you awake. 

“Fuck.” You forgot to text Harcourt. 

Adrian came out of the bathroom just as you were working yourself up to leave the warmth of the blankets, a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Adrian,” You muttered. 

He looked back at you, “Yeah.” 

“You mind texting Harcourt? I’m on the verge of sleep right now.” You were fighting sleep even as you spoke, though the sight of his body stirred something within you. 

“Sure.” He walked over to your jeans, pulling the phone out of your pocket and banging out a text. He threw the phone over to you on the bed, “There ya go.” 

You caught the phone, turned on several alarms for the morning, and slapped it onto the nightstand. 

Adrian let the towel fall from his waist, crouching down to grab a pair of boxer briefs and yank them up his dewy legs. 

When he slid into the bed next to you, it took a lot of willpower not to crawl into his arms or straddle his lap. 

“Hey, Adrian.” You grumbled. 

“Hm?” He was laying on his back with his eyes closed, one hand resting on his stomach and the other tucked underneath the pillow. 

“We did a good job tonight.” You slid as close as you could get without actually touching his skin. 

He responded by turning to face you, eyes still closed but arms tucked underneath his head, muscles flexing in this position, “Yeah. We did. Good job, wifey.” His lips turned up in a smile. 

You let out a laugh, and fell halfway into sleep, careful not to move when you felt Adrian’s arm wrap around you. He tucked his head into the side of your neck, pursing his lips to give you a kiss on the shoulder. 

Warmth shot through your body at the touch. There was your confirmation, in the dark blue noise of Vegas, in the space where he thought you wouldn’t know. 

He did want this. 

taglist: @tinalbion, @welcome–back, @miss-whiddlesmort, @vlkyriesgf, @silverdisable, @carlsonione32, @aunty-venom, @redpool, @myguiltypleasures21, @dallasvakarian​, @freyafriggafrey​ as always, if you’d like to be added for future works, please feel free to ask!!

[n7viper]

What's At Your Core?

I was tagged by @commander-krios to do this uquiz for my OCs 💖 ty bb!

Tagging with no pressure: @hawkeshep | @plisuu | @blarrghe | @rosella-writes | @melisusthewee | @sulky-valkyrie | @moss-flesh | @kirkwalls-dumbest | @indoctrinates | @datsonyat

Mihri Lavellan

benign culpability

everyone hates you because you are a facetious lying bitch. …kidding, i think. seriously, though! you try way too hard to look like a picturesque example of class and responsibility, but you use your position as a social butterfly to take advantage of those weaker than you. it’s rare for anything not to be your fault, and everyone thinks you’re crying wolf when you actually HAVEN’T done anything. it gets kind of tiring to have everyone on your dick all the time, but it’s less interesting to actually behave. good luck with the therapy?

Azaelia 'Lia' Rey Shepard

flightless bird

the thought of your found family is what motivates you in your own little world. you touch the clouds, and the soil gives way under your footprints… this is utopia. if you were to erase one thing, it would be your memory. experience is important, but ignorance is bliss. identity, in heaven, should give way to happiness. you'd give anything just to sit by the swings and eat ice cream, but this isn't that kind of world. you have to get up and wash the dirt off of your scraped knees. i think you have an escapism problem.

[sidhelives]

I meant to post yesterday, but I then I forgot.

Oops.

WILL A MURDEROUS JESTER MAKE UP FOR IT?

We are in full swing on Chapter 10 of my Skyrim fic Listen Closely. Cicero is a bit banged up, but doing his best.

His side burned, hot and stinging cold at the same time. He pressed his hand tighter to the wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood which pumped from his veins and stained his red garments redder still.

Not as toothless as he seems.

Cicero winced, lungs aching as he gulped down air, he leaned heavily against the sealed black door. Arnbjorn couldn't get in, didn't know the phrase, and with any luck he would be bleeding out on the snow strewn beach. Safe. At least for a moment.

He had been foolish and reckless. It was so easy to see in hindsight. Slipping and letting his long festering disdain ignight into explosive action. But what is a Keeper to do when someone speaks about his mother so?

Dried up harlot. I expect she'd make excellent kindling should the Sanctuary get too chilly.

He growled, the anger which had drawn his blade back in Falkreath rising again.

Astrid, the shrieking harpy, was unfit to serve Sithis, unfit to do anything but die. If Cicero had only been more cautious in his approach, if the lizard had not stepped into his path, if the hound had not come at his heels…

The pain flared again and Cicero clenched his eyes tightly shut.

If, if, if. Dwelling on mistakes until another comes to take their place.

He needed to move. Needed to go to ground, to burrow. Astrid would not be content to drive him out. No, no, no. She would send another after him to finish the job her drooling lapdog had begun.

And Cicero had a very good idea who he should expect to come calling.

The pain didn't seem as bad when compared to the possibility of being caught wounded and vulnerable by the Listener.

Tagging: @kittynomsdeplume @frostyfelassan @jrastegar @piecesofsolaswriting @the-cryptographer @fiannans @rosella-writes @crown-laurel @noire-pandora & anyone else who has something to share

[darethshirl]

OC Interview: Lyanna Lavellan

Thank you so much to @noire-pandora and @morganlefaye79 for tagging me for such a fun OC game! I had a blast writing this. 💜💜 I’m tagging in turn @rosella-writes, @melisusthewee, @cleverblackcat, @thevikingwoman, @ammocharis, @in-arlathan, @dreadfutures and anyone else who wants to do it!

Introduction

This event was organized a few weeks prior to the Winter Palace ball. Ambassador Josephine Montilyet had invited a few Orlesian journalists to Skyhold to interview the newly appointed Inquisitor.

Can you introduce yourself?

She looks at the speaker with a clear and steady gaze. “I am Lyanna vir Lavellan.”

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

She tilts her head. “I don’t believe in labels, or constraints. I’m attracted to people first, not particular identities. And as for my relationship status...” She gives a coy smile. “Let’s just say I’m not searching right now.”

Where and when were you born?

"In my clan, somewhere in the Free Marches, 30 summers ago.”

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

"Bow and arrow, and my one trusty dagger. I prefer picking out enemies from a distance, one by one, and going unnoticed during battle... but if I’m forced into close combat I have no problems getting my hands bloody. Also, ever since I became the Inquisitor I’ve received extra training on being stealthy.” Her eyes twinkle. “Not that I needed it.”

And finally, are you happy?

“Yes, I am. I have many things in my life to be grateful for.”

Family and friends

What is your family like? What is your relationship like with them?

She sighs, and looks slightly at the distance. “It’s a long story, and I won’t share the details, but my mother died when I was young and my father was never in the picture. I was raised by my aunt alongside my cousin Syranna.” She turns back to the speaker with a smile. “I’m very grateful for the family I have, and I love them both dearly. I wish I could see them more often than I do.”

Have you ever run away from home?

“I never needed to! Whenever I was feeling antsy as a teenager - or even older - my Keeper would always give me permission to visit other clans, or would just give me a mission that took me far enough away for the restlessness to dissipate.”

"Would you want to get married or have children?

"No.” She doesn’t elaborate.

Do you secretly hate any of your friends?

She raises a single eyebrow. “If I hated them, then they wouldn’t be my friends.”

What friend knows everything about you?

"I think all my friends know things about me. They all have pieces of my soul with them, and together, they all comprise me.”

Asked by fans

Can you read and write? Did you go to school?

"I learned to write and read elven runes by my hahrens, as all children of my clan did. As for human letters, I admit those give me more trouble. I had to learn as an adult, and in some ways I am still learning.”

The scariest prediction you made that later came true?

"I don’t actually think about the future. I don’t think I’ve ever made a prediction, true or otherwise.”

What is something you embarrassingly realised too late?

"Well...” She shifts. “When I was a child, I was convinced I’d eventually display my own magic. My cousin and aunt both had magic, so why wouldn’t I?” She shrugs with a self-deprecating smile. “It took me too long to realise that it wasn’t meant to be, for me.”

Do you have mental or physical problems?

“No, none for now.”

What's your main goal right now?

Her expression turns smooth and neutral. “To defeat Corypheus.”

Choices

Drink or eat?

“Food, definitely.” She suddenly chuckles. “Don’t tell Varric, but I don’t actually like the taste of alcohol.”

Cats or dogs?

She thinks about this with surprising seriousness, frowning for a long time. “...Cats, I think. It’s a hard choice, but at least cats are more independent.”

Optimist or pessimist?

"There are certain people who consider me a pessimist. But if you ask me, I’m simply a realist.”

Sassy or sarcastic?

She quirks a smile. “Aren’t those the same thing? Anyway, I’d like to think I’m neither.”

HAVE YOU EVER:

Been caught sneaking out?

Her eyes twinkle with humour. “Didn’t I tell you before? I’m good at sneaking.”

Broken a bone?

"No, but it was pure luck that I didn’t!”

Did you get flowers?

"My cousin and I used to gift each other flowers - or other pretty trinkets - regularly as children. As an adult, I’m usually the one giving flowers rather than receiving them.”

Ghosting someone?

"Right now? No.” Her gaze is cool and steady. “But I can, if I have to.”

You pretended to laugh at a joke you did not get?

“I’ve never pretended, but if someone laughs at their own joke I tend to laugh with them.” Her smile turns warm. “I just find it endearing.”

[magdasabs]

She will play against Spain

by the method of elimination I've concluded this is about rosella

well good luck to her and she'll surely be glad she's not a defender for that one...

[queertwilight]

Rosella: Port Angeles

“Get in the car. Now.” There was no hesitation in her voice and i sprinted in without a thought

From the front seat I could see her, her blonde curls wispy in the wind. Her face was set in a sneer I knew all too well from biology and her hands were fists at her sides.

I couldn’t hear what was being said but it wasn’t more than a minute later that she hopped into the BMW and backed up before doing a quick U- turn.

My fingers were glued to the insides of my thighs and my mouth was gaping open( I probably looked half dead but I didn’t care

“How- how did you know where to find me?”

Her face was closed off but just as exquisite as always. Her golden eyes trained on the road and her long fingers tightened in the wheel.

“Are you okay?” I pressed. Her shoulders were practically up to her ears and I could feel her rage as if it were directly targeted at me.

She laughed then. A harsh, cutting laugh that could’ve cut glass. But still her head tilted back just so and the long column of her neck was exposed for a brief second.

God, this wasn’t the time to be gay I had almost died and here I was debating if her neck smelled as good as her breath

I could feel my face beating up, and just as my luck would have it, she turned to looks at me right then

“You almost got attacked by those…,” she curled her lips in a snarl. “Those excuse for human beings and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

Her tone was incredulous but surprised. Her full lips finished in a half pout and I willed myself to not look at them.

“I’m sorry-“

“And now you’re apologizing? Seriously Bella, where is your self-preservation? They could’ve killed you. Do you get that?” Her voice rose as she built up steam and I couldn’t help but unleash my own rage

“Of course I know that, Rosalie! I’m not stupid much to your disbelief. I know what could’ve happened. I was remembering self defense moves when you showed up out of nowhere!”

“And you’re angry with me. For saving you.” She stared it so matter of fact that I debated pulling out my hair in frustration

“Stop being so condescending! I’m not angry you saved me! I’m thankful. Really. But if you really just saved me to belittle me and not explain how you knew where I was then really you should’ve let me handle it on my own.”

I turned to stare out the window, my arms crossed over my chest. I noticed that we were turning down my street and debating glancing at the speedometer before thinking I’d had enough adrenaline for one day

She parked her car in front of Charlie’s but I stayed exactly where I sat. My embarrassment for being so upfront about my anger and my curiosity to know her, trapping me.

I heard a sigh come from her before I felt her tap my shoulder.

“I’m not leaving until you explain this to me. All of this. I’m tired of this. You can’t save me one day and then act as if I’m nothing the next. I deserve better.”

But my voice was wavering and as she gently tucked her fingered glove under my chin to look at her I could feel my heart skip a beat, she was so beautiful it hurt to look at

“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes were open and honest and I could feel every part of my body aching to move closer.

To tell her to let me in. To beg her to give me a chance.

“We’re in front of your house. I’ll tell you my story Bella, and I’ll answer every question as honestly as I can. But,” she looked down as she moved her hand from my chin to my hand that now laid on my lap.

“But?” I prompted.

“But I wish someone was there for me to give me the option to walk away. So if this ever becomes too much to handle, you’re free to go inside your home. I won’t hold it against you or be angry or treat you unfairly.” She squeezed my hand slightly.

I looked down at our hands, barely touching. I looked up to see her watching me intently and held my breath as I nodded in understanding.

“I want you to know I don’t want to run from this.” I gulped as I took her hand in both of mine. “Thank you for giving me an option, i hope you know that it goes both ways.”

I took the glove and pinched it from the tip of her middle finger, I could hear our breaths hitch as I tugged it off.

We were wary of each other. Her eyes glancing down at my hand then at me and vice versa, as our hands seemed to act on their own.

I could barely breathe as her icy palm pressed against my clammy one.

As our fingers threaded together, I looked up and gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”

She laughed then. A real loud pearly laughter that made her teeth shine in the dark and her eyes brighten into a canary yellow. “Trust me, it’s for your benefit as much as mine.” She squeezed gently.

“You’re beautiful.” The words tumbled out before I could think them and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks in horror

If Angela and Jess knew … “oh shit! Angela and Jessica! We left them at the restaurant!”

Rosalie’s eyes, which had grown wide before becoming soft at my earlier outburst looked at me with a tenderness that made me almost scream screw Jess and Ange I’d tell them later

“They’re well aware you’re with me. Alice - I’ll explain later -“ she said at my confusion at the mention of her sister, “is with them gossiping away.”

“Oh,” was my brilliant reply.

We both knew where this conversation was headed. In so many ways I’d declared myself and she had as well but this made it official

“You’re the most exquisite girl I’ve ever seen,” she whispered as she squeezed my hand a little tighter. “You’ve changed my world in so many ways and you don’t know it.”

“But I want to.” I interjected quickly. Afraid she’d changed her mind about being honest.

“I know,” she replied solemnly. She gave a soft smile before looking away.

“Now where to begin?”

[warsraging-a]

19 + rosella & amy

kiss meme  |  @amcrvincit  | selectively accepting19 - for luck

"wait! wait!!” her voice echoes across the hallway as amy rushes out of her dorm room. her hair is a mess of golden curls, an oversized shirt lazily thrown on, just so any fellow tennants don’t see any more than they should. still, amy cares very little for their attention, none of the girls around managing to peel her eyes away from rosella.

she giggles once she reaches her girlfriend, arms wrapped around her neck. “you can’t just leave for your big exam without telling me!” granted, maybe rosella did attempt to wake her before stepping out of her dorm; she should know by now that any communication while amy’s still asleep is pointless, though. “here, for good luck.” she pulls rosella in, their lips crashing eagerly as her fingers get lost in her hair.

amy lingers for just a moment, before pulling away and flashing the other a bright grin. “knock ‘em dead, ella.”

[malleedesign]

New Post has been published on https://malleedesign.com.au/why-are-birds-not-visiting-my-bird-bath/

Why are birds not visiting my bird bath?

There are a number of reasons for not seeing birds in a birdbath. You may not have allowed enough time for birds to find your birdbath, birds may actually be coming but you don’t see them or cats may be disrupting an array of local species. Placement of the birdbath as well as the type of habitat provided in your garden are essential to note as well. This article explains the typical problems people have with attracting birds to their garden and how to position a birdbath amongst native plant species so that birdlife has the opportunity to thrive.

A White-plummed Honeyeater visits a birdbath beneath Eucalyptus erythrocorys and a Grevillea ‘Elegance’

Birds may take between a few days and a few weeks to discover and start visiting the birdbath, it will be quicker if you’ve had a source of water in your garden before. If your birdbath is the first source of water to be introduced to the garden then it may take a few weeks for birds to find the water. Sometimes they come almost immediately, sometimes they wait for the bright copper to discolour and become less reflective.

Many birds will visit at dawn and dusk and will avoid times when human activity is present. A cheap wildlife trap camera, such as the one shown below, is an excellent way to get a record of birds visiting whilst no one is looking. Or you may want to raise from bed early one morning to try witness the dawn chorus!

A wildlife trap camera (such as the Bushnell shown here) will be triggered when movement is detected on the birdbath.

Another common reason for the absence of birds is neighbourhood cats. Cats can leave a scent that birds will detect and avoid and if there is too much foliage around a birdbath cats can also hide and then pounce on bird species at close range. We find that wildlife trap cameras will often capture visiting cats, especially at night. To avoid cat predation try to raise your birdbath as much as possible and position it in an area of your garden not frequented by cats. Raising your bath to at leat one metre is recommended if you know cats are present in your area.

Cats are one of the biggest threats to birds across Australia

There are various other strategies that one can try to keep cats away; a quick google search reveals a few different strategies. We scatter human hair in key places around. It is difficult to judge how effective this is.

You may also struggle to see birds if the birdbath is exposed to full sun or in an exposed postion, without any local tree cover or local planting. Birds like to land in nearby trees and bushes to survey the area for any threats before committing to a bath or drink. Small birds in particular are unlikely to frequent a birdbath without any nearby shelter. Overhanging plants protect them from the larger predatory birds that might swoop in and attempt an attack. Only the larger, more confident birds (like the currawongs) tend to visit an exposed bath.

Another thing to note about exposed birdbaths is that the temperature of the water inside them will warm up throughout the day. Shading the bath will make the water cooler and more refreshing for the birds to drink from on those hot days.

Birdbaths in full sun are less appealing to native birdlife

Perch points are another important aspect of setting up a birdbath as birds need somewhere to access the water from and may like to examine the depth of the water before jumping in. It’s a good idea to place a rock in the centre of the bath as another perching point. Overhanging branches and adjacent shrubs will also improve bird accessibility.

This rock in the middle of the birdbath gives a Little Wattlebird greater access to the water in the birdbath

Once you’ve setup your birdbath in an appropriate location think about the types of birds you want to attract. One of the best ways to attract more birds to the garden is to plant bird-attracting plants; plants that offer food. With food close-by birds will be able to feast and drink close together. Here’s a list of plants that with bird-attracting flowers: http://malleedesign.com.au/category/bird-attracting/.

With the right planting it is possible to attract specific species of birds. For example, if you wanted to attract Satin Bowerbirds you could plant the native lily, Dianella caerulea, which produces a succulent blue fruit.

Dinanella caerulea

Bowerbirds use the fruit to decorate their bowers and are also one of several native birds that feed on the fruits. What’s more is the dense leafage of the lily provides shelter for small birds like wrens or thornbills to hang out in: http://malleedesign.com.au/bush-tucker-under-dog/

A Satin Bowerbird leans over a birdbath underneath and Banksia tree.

Before going all-out with planting native species it’s important to think about the kinds of birds you want to attract. Different groups of birds prefer different habitats and food sources. Keep in mind that many birds will visit seasonally, in line with when their food sources are available. If they are a migratory species you may only see them if they are stopping to rest in your area.

If you aren’t seeing a particular bird in your garden it might be a good idea to check BirdLife Australia’s website for more details on its geographic distribution, feeding habits and seasonality: https://birdlife.org.au/all-about-birds/australias-birds

Musk Lorikeets follow the trail of nectar-filled flowers and fruits throughout the seasons

One way of thinking about birds is in the following five groups:

Insectivorous birds, like Superb Fairy Wrens and many of the smaller birds, will be attracted to a garden that has insect-attracting plants e.g. wattles (Acacias) and tea trees (Leptospermum). They tend to prefer spiky habitat shrubs, which offer refuge and shelter from predators.

Parrots, like the Crimson Rosellas and Rainbow Lorikeets are seed-eating birds but will also prey on insects and sometimes drink nectar too. Their beaks are designed for prying open nuts and seeds from native species.

Crimson Rosellas are parrots with beaks for breaking open nuts and seeds

Honeyeaters love those wonderful, nectar-filled flowers iconic to eucalypts, Melaleucas and Callistemons. One examples is Angophora hispida, a small tree with blossoming white flowers in Summer that attract Little Wattlebirds. http://malleedesign.com.au/perfect-small-feature-tree-angophora-hispida/

Angophora hispida

Carnivorous birds, including the Kookaburras, butcherbirds and magpies tend to be bolder birds, which aren’t as concerned about whether the birdbath is sheltered or not. They may take larger prey such as lizards and skinks from your garden as well as smaller insects. Many of them are generalist feeders.

Larger birds, also tend to be bold and may dominate a garden if there isn’t enough habitat protection around for the smaller birds. They also include cockatoos like our beautiful Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo, which like to feed on large Banksia and Casuarina seeds.

A magpie’s pointed beak allows pierce insect and reptilian prey

The following resource by Birdlife Australia has extra tips on how to attract different groups of birds: https://birdlife.org.au/images/uploads/education_sheets/INFO-Attracting-birds-to-garden.pdf

If you’re still having difficulty attracting birds to your garden after considering these factors then try moving your birdbath to a different part of your garden. Maybe the birds just don’t like the fengshui of the spot that it’s in at the moment!

Good luck with your birdbath and happy birdwatching,

The Mallee Team

[nozomifoxxrp]

"Well.... we get the honor to be on the first page sometimes" Helga replied and her tone wasn't pleased.

Their eyes followed Yerik when he rose from his chair. Oh the enthusiasm in his his eyes. Adorable.

Mar snickered

"Yep! Jamie-chan, Ro-chan, and Doc-chan are devil fruit users! Doc-chan isn't here tho" It seemed she had a habit of calling people with nicknames. She then urged Jeremy and Rosella "show him! show him!"

Jeremy just laughed nervously while Rosella smiled.

"Not here~"

Bjorn was prolly the only one who laughed at that. The rest was neutral or rolled their eyes.

"We don't like that nane. It was so uncreative! Why can't it be sth cool like roaring dragon!?" Mar whined

"Again. We have nothing associated with dragons" Yamini spoke up "the worst part is they assume you're captain so we're named after you"

Mar the Jinx pouted

"One day I will make them change mine and our name..."

"Oh, do me a favor and make them revoke my bounty, will you?" Yamini was being her sarcastic self.

Talking about bounties in public wouldn't be a good idea as the staff in the cafe were looking at them

On the back, one of them called Marines. Jinx Pirates had bad lucks following them as their name suggested.

Red head idols: First meet

[pointy-eared-muse]

Graham... what have you done?

Quick poll, show of hands.  How many of my fellow King’s Questers were emotional wrecks by the end of Chapter 5 of King’s Quest 2015, thinking about how sad and beautiful and right-in-the-feels it was?  Most of you?  OK, that’s totally fair and reasonable.  You can put your hands down.  Now, how many of you, at the end of Chapter 5, were staring at your screen in dawning abject horror because you realized that Graham’s final act may have destabilized the political futures of multiple countries?  ...is it just me?  Maybe one person there in the back?  Anyone else?  OK, let me explain.  Spoilers ahead.

Now, I’m going to preface all this by saying I genuinely believe that Graham’s final decision was well-intentioned and motivated by love.  I think he saw a great deal of himself in Gwendolyn and honestly thought that she would make an excellent queen.  And, I do agree.  I think Gwendolyn has the potential to be a great ruler one day.

Key phrase there:  one day.

Because Graham literally just left his entire kingdom in the hands of a ten-year-old. (OK, I don’t actually know how old Gwendolyn is, but ten seems like a reasonable estimate.)

Now, I don’t doubt that Gwendolyn would be as well-supported as possible in her new role as queen.  I don’t doubt that Valanice, Rosella, her parents, and pretty much everyone in the Daventry castle would be right there to help her.  But still.  She is a young girl.  She has not yet developed the experience and maturity to be in that position.  Both her father and grandfather were pretty young when they each became kings, and she is roughly half the age they were at the time.  Look, I have a child about Gwendolyn’s age and I wouldn’t leave him in charge of breakfast, let alone a kingdom, and that’s under the best of circumstances.  Well-intentioned as it may be, the chances of this ending well for Daventry aren’t very good, even with help.  Somebody somewhere is bound to try and take advantage of her.  But it’s more complicated than that.

See, the game strongly implies that both Gart and Gwendolyn are only children and don’t have any siblings.  And if that is true, well, now, we have a problem.  Because, with Gwendolyn becoming queen of Daventry... the Land of the Green Isles no longer has an heir-apparent.  Whoops.

OK, I know what you’re thinking.  Why not just have Gart and Gwendolyn swap places?  She becomes queen of Daventry, and he becomes the future King of the Green Isles.  Problem solved, right?  Eh... maybe.  Because that’s definitely going to make an uphill fight for the both of them.  It’s unclear how much Gwendolyn has been coached at this point to lead a kingdom, but Gart has been being trained practically since birth to lead Daventry as the clear heir-apparent.  He knows Daventry well, can easily identify addendums by number, understands the people, history, geography, dangers, and culture of Daventry.  It’s his home.  But chances are, he doesn’t know all that much about the Green Isles---it’s unfamiliar territory at best and bound to be a culture shock.  And, to be honest, Gwendolyn will probably face similar struggles adapting to the Daventry way of life.  But, here is a key difference between the two realms:  on the whole, Daventry has been pretty chill about welcoming outsiders (goblins and evil wizards not withstanding).  Land of the Green Isles, though?  Land that is xenophobic enough that, by the request of its prior leaders, many maps either actively deny its existence or else deliberately misplace it so it is nearly impossible to find?  Land where almost any ship that attempts to sail there and actually finds it ends up wrecked?  Land of every island prepared to inventively kill any stranger who attempts to walk more than 5 feet inland from the shore? (If you’re wondering if I died a lot playing KQ6 as a kid, the answer is yes.  Yes, I did.)  Yeah...  Even in the best possible circumstances, Gart’s going to need a lot of luck if he’s going have any hope of succeeding as the next heir to the Green Isles, assuming he even gets the position.

But wait, you say, during KQ6 wasn’t there a lot of instability and turmoil going on because of Alhazred’s meddling?  And hasn’t he been gone for 30-ish years?  You are correct, but that still doesn’t change the fact that the Green Isles is pretty inherently hostile to outsiders.  Maybe some of that has changed under Alexander-Gwydion’s reign, but that kind of widespread cultural change is difficult to accomplish in one generation.  Xenophobia and mistrust rarely ever truly go away---they’re more likely to just go underground for a while and then pop back up at the first favorable opportunity.  And we actually don’t know how effective a ruler Alexander-Gwydion is.  Yes, he earned the respect of the various island leaders during his adventuring there, but he wasn’t brought up being taught how to govern.  It’s far more likely that Cassima is the true power on the throne of the Green Isles with Alexander-Gwydion being more of a figurehead.  We like to assume that the two of them ushered in a new era of peace and prosperity for the Green Isles... but what if they didn’t? What if the situation there is still politically precarious?

Because, see, as previously noted, there are some conspicuous and unexplained absences in the newest King’s Quest game.  One of them is Queen Cassima herself, and while we don’t actually know where she is or why,  my guess is that she stayed behind in the Green Isles instead of following her family to Daventry because things may well fall apart without her maintaining a presence.  And now, thanks to Graham, it’s just her there.  With Gwendolyn being queen of Daventry, we don’t know when or if Alexander-Gwydion will return to the Green Isles (I’m thinking more likely “when,” but it could take a while, be it weeks, months or even years).  And if the other islands perceive weakness or instability in the leadership of the Isle of the Crown, I’m pretty sure peaceful co-existence is not going to be the order of the day.  Whether this means each island becomes more insular, or the bickering and in-fighting between them flares up and intensifies, or there are threats of an all-out coup, I don’t know, but all in all, more than likely, things aren’t going to be smooth and peaceful.

And then there’s Edgar, also conspicuously missing with no explanation as to where he is or why, or even a definitive canon answer as to whether or not he’s a part of the Cracker family tree.  But for argument’s sake, let’s go with the generally-assumed belief that he is Gart’s father.  That would mean Gart would have as much (and probably more, actually) claim to being part of the Etherian court as he would that of the Green Isles, since there he’s a direct descendant of the ruling family, rather than just the king’s nephew.  And if you thought Green Isles politics and culture shock were hard... welcome to Faerie.

Now, the good news is that Oberon and Titania are effectively immortal, so the chances of Gart ever actually inheriting the throne and/or needing to lead are pretty small.  If he did find his place in the Etherian court, it’d most likely be as a courtier, a liaison, an ambassador or something like that.  At least, once he’s an adult.  As a kid, especially, though, probably every fairy and their dragonet is going to want to get their grabby little hands on Gart, especially the dark ones.  Because fairies are just weirdly obsessed with children in general, it’s far from the first time that wicked Etherians have tried to strike at Oberon and Titania through a child of their bloodline, and I still think it would be incredibly naive to assume that Lolotte and Malicia are the only threats to ever come out of Etherian society.

Again, we don’t actually know what happened to Edgar, but of the various theories I came up with, the one I like best is that Edgar has voluntarily (and heart-wrenchingly) separated from Rosella and Gart in an effort to keep them safe from the more dangerous factions of Etherian society.  I firmly believe that Edgar is motivated by the desire to Do The Right Thing, but growing up under Lolotte and being brainwashed by Malicia have left their mark on him.  He’s learned that the ends justify the means, he’s learned how to manipulate and deceive, how to plot and carry out plans in secret, how to literally get away with murder, and, most importantly, he’s learned how dark fairies generally think and behave. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, and he hates it, but he can’t think of a better solution to protect the people he loves most, so, while they stay in Daventry, he returns to Eldritch and Etheria, and at first, he tries lying.  He denies he still has feelings for Rosella, denies that they have a child together.  They can’t hurt his son if they don’t know he exists, after all.  But Edgar’s more the type to deceive through misdirection and omission, and outright lies don’t spin easily off his tongue; he stammers and falters when he tries.  Not to mention that any fairy with sufficient means, skill and determination can use Daventry’s cherished Magic Mirror as a window into the kingdom (if Genesta could, surely there are others, after all).  Rumors spread quickly among fairies, and the idea of a precious half-human prince who doesn’t realize what he’s capable of and being poised to lead a kingdom one day is a terribly tempting target.  Imagine what they could do with that impressionable mind, that untapped power...  And if this sweet little prince could be taken...  Etheria remembers the chaos that followed in the wake of losing their own Prince Edgar---how would Daventry handle the disappearance of its own heir?  King Graham is growing older and fears dark magic...  Goblins have been able to throw Daventry into disarray, and, overall, they’re downright primitive compared to the dark fairies of Etheria.  If the forces of dark magic took their prince, there would be war, surely.  And the humans would be no match against the fairies.  Daventry would become theirs.

So, now Edgar has to switch tactics, because simple denial is pointless.  It becomes a cat-and-mouse game, where the best defense is a good offense. It’s his fault that Daventry is at risk, so it’s his duty to prevent both personal tragedy and war between the realms.  He’s on the proverbial front lines, rooting out the places where evil flourishes, doing all he can to quash the ambitions of those who would hurt Gart or Rosella and/or cause a war.  Once in a while, maybe, he slips away to visit Daventry, to catch a glimpse of his son and his beloved Rosella.  Quietly, he encourages sending Gart on adventures, to keep him away from the Magic Mirror where he might be spied upon, to hone the skills of survival, resourcefulness and handling adversity, because he will need them one day.  Maybe out in the wilds, the magic in him will awaken, and he can practice it away from Graham’s potential worry and disapproval.  Perhaps, just perhaps, it is Edgar who fervently pleads with Graham in hushed corners to not let Gart grow up too soon, to let him be a boy, to keep him sheltered from too much public attention.  Don’t let him become king until he is too old to tempt those who would corrupt him.  And Graham doesn’t---he ends up choosing his other grandchild to succeed him.

Meanwhile, Gart is being raised human.  It’s a bittersweet prospect in Edgar’s eyes, having known what it’s like to grow up not knowing the truth of what you are, but, for now, it’s for the best.  Gart doesn’t yet understand the sacrifices his father is making on his behalf, or the power that lies sleeping in his veins.  He grows to believe that Daventry is his birthright, not realizing that someday his father’s battles may become his own.  One day, he will understand, but that day may come sooner than expected with his younger cousin now the acting queen.  There’s a chance the dark fairies may try to use her to get to Gart, appealing to her youth, her innocence, her own fascination with magic. 

Daventry has never been more vulnerable in living human memory.  And two other nations may be on the brink of open conflict because of it.

...long story short, if there’s a follow-up game to this, I really hope it’s about Gwendolyn and Gart trying to navigate the political hellscape they’ve just inherited.