#it melted a part of my brain ill never get back and it destroyed any sense of trust and loyalty to media

[girl-bateman]

I wholeheartedly think I’d be a happier and more mentally sound individual if I had not shipped Destiel when I was 13

[lexosaurus]

Eldritch Ghosts

My piece for Day 4 of DP Side Hoes Week! Initially, I was kinda wary about writing this one just because I usually don’t really do a ton of world building in my fics, but I’m actually pretty happy with how this one came out!

Character: Clockwork Theme: Origin

---

Every ghost had an origin story, the tale of how they came to be. For most, they were created from a dying body, driven to existence through a deep sense of purpose. Perhaps a dying wish they never got to fulfill, or an especially traumatic death that resulted in an overexertion of brain matter in the last moments. For most, this was their origin story.

For other ghosts, they were created in the Zone. Most of that group were born from the procreation of two other ectoplasmic creatures. Not all ghosts had the capabilities of reproduction, but some of the more sentient, more powerful ghosts could find a way if they so pleased.

But for a small group, they were born from the Zone itself. From the deepest, most ancient parts of this vast expanse of ectoplasmic energy. There were only a few ghosts who developed this way, but those few possessed powers that other ghosts could only dream of.

They were called eldritch ghosts.

“So what about you?” Phantom asked. He had taken a liking to a particular stuffed armchair in Clockwork’s haunt, lounging with his back to one arm and his legs dangling over the other. He asked the question lazily, his eyes more focused on the ice shapes he was creating in his palm than on Clockwork himself. 

“How were you made?”

Clockwork shifted to his adult form. “I know you’re not a full fledged ghost, but even you should know the taboos of our culture.”

Phantom dissipated the ice crystals. “Oh come on, Clocky! You know how I got here.”

“I know how everyone got here. I am the master of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom shook his hand nonchalantly to the side. “Master of time, god of all past, present, and future, observer of all timelines and potential outcomes. I know, but even you have an origin story.”

“Not everyone has an exciting tale of origin, ghost child.”

“But you still came from somewhere.” 

Clockwork turned his attention back to a portal he was watching. It was of a young ghost child learning to ride a bike for the first time. Clockwork had seen this before, and he would see it again in the future. 

He sighed, shifting into his child form and wiping the portal to show a new landscape. It was dark, black. He waved his arm, zooming in further on the scene until a bright green orb of swirling ectoplasm came into view.

“Come, child.”

“Huh?” Phantom rose from the couch. “Oh, what’s that? Is that the zone?”

“Correct.”

Phantom peered closer to the scene until he was hovering just mere inches away from it. “I don’t get it. Where are all the doors?”

“There are no doors in this realm of the Ghost Zone. No portals to other lands, other timelines, or other worlds.”

“Oh. So then why are you showing me this?”

Clockwork pointed his metal staff towards the glowing green mass. “Do you see that?” 

“Yeah?”

“That’s the epicenter of the Zone. We all exist around it in an ever growing mass of ectoplasm and space. Everything in this plane originated from that core.”

“Wait, the Zone has a core? Like ghosts do?”

Clockwork nodded, his purple hood bobbing at the movement. “That is correct.”

“Does that mean…” Phantom’s face scrunched up. “Does that mean the Zone is a ghost?”

“Not exactly. The Zone is not sentient, it is merely an expanse of space that emits ectoplasmic energy, the thing that creates and sustains us. Without this core, the ectoplasm in the Zone would be unable to sustain itself, and the Zone as we know it would cease to exist, along with all of us.”

Phantom’s eyes shifted warily back to the screen. “That’s sort of dangerous, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“If the core is so important for us to stay alive, then why is it so...I don’t know, exposed? Couldn’t some insane ghost just go destroy it?”

“No,” Clockwork said. “That’s the biggest mystery of the Zone’s core. Anyone who’s ever tried to get near the core has never made it back in one piece. The core is so powerful that it incinerates any ghost who attempts to get close. Hence why there are no doors around it either.”

“What if someone just like accidentally stumbles across it? Like what if one day I’m flying, minding my own business, and I get too close to this core?”

“That wouldn’t happen. Ghosts can feel it.” He shifted to his elder form and waved his hand once more at the portal, zooming in even closer to the core until the duo could see all the individual swirling speckles of ectoplasm pulsating around the core.

Phantom was silent for a moment, staring up at the bright green core with childlike wonder. “It looks sort of like a sun.”

“It is like the sun. If we fly too close, we can feel it. But it’s not hot in the way a human sun is. It won’t burn or melt you if you get too close.”

“Then what happens?”

Clockwork took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It had been so long, an eternity even, but even he could never forget the way the Zone’s core felt. How it affected his core, how it directed the ambient ectoplasm around him, guiding him away from the ancient depths of the Zone.

Most ghosts would never get that lucky. Other ghosts would cease to exist. 

But not him.

“A ghost who gets too close would feel an intense amount of pressure. At first, it’s just a slight warning, but the closer the ghost gets, the more they would feel as if gravity itself is imploding around them. But if they get close enough, the core’s radiant ectoplasm would begin to interact with the ghost’s own core, and they’ll be driven insane by the Zone’s sheer power. The ghost’s core would become parasitic, and would force the ghost’s body forward until the Zone’s core can reach them. At that point, they’d simply dissolve.”

Danny shuttered. “Seems like a bad way to go.”

“It is.”

“So…” Danny started, his tone shifting into one of cautious curiosity. “Not that this isn’t cool and all, ‘cause it is, but why are you telling me all this?”

Clockwork shifted back into his childlike form. “You wanted to know my origin story, did you not?”

“Well, yeah. But I don’t see how the Zone’s core has anything to do with you specifically. Other than, you know, us being a ghost and needing the Zone’s core to exist and all that.”

Clockwork held his gloved hand up to eye level, watching as the miniature clocks adorning his wrists ticked away at their various times. “Every couple thousand years, the Zone’s core has too much radiant ectoplasm it needs to dispel. A human star does this much more often in the form of solar flares. But the Zone’s core is made of ectoplasm, and so it dispels its energy in the form of a new ghost.”

“So...you mean...you were born from the Zone’s core?” 

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And you’re still here?” Danny jumped up, swirling around Clockwork in alarm. “How? How did it not drive you insane and make you explode?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Child, I am the Zone’s child. Why would it kill its own creation so soon?”

“But you said the Zone wasn’t sentient.”

“That I did.” Clockwork hummed, shifting back into his adult form. He waved his staff once more at the portal, transforming the scene to a ghost wandering beyond where doors existed. If anything was amiss, the ghost paid no mind, traversing deeper into the empty landscape. 

In a few hours, the ghost would be no more.

“I’m sure if I tried to go near it now, I would end up like this poor soul. But upon my creation, the core was expending excess energy. It wouldn’t have wanted to take back the energy it just spent so much effort getting rid of.”

Phantom eyed the portal, looking ill.

"Remember, child." Clockwork swung his staff, morphing the scene back into the child riding a bike. “The Zone is full of mysteries. Ones that I myself do not even fully understand.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[starlightkenobi]

can i get a master anakin x Padawan reader and maybe the sexual tension between them has been growing and then he finally snaps he’s like 🥺 dominant and reader has a praise kink 🥺

😩💦💦💦 hell yes, dom anakin is my SHIT ! and praise kink ? fuck. me.

a/n: im actually really proud of this and i like it a lot,,,,if yall like this maybe ill go feral and make part two 🤫😉

update: i made a part 2 ! here it is :)

My Padawan // Anakin x Reader (Part 1)

rating: explicit

warnings: dom anakin, prasie kink, some subspace although it isnt explicitly mentioned

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Anakin Skywalker. Your master, the guy you were madly in love with, the only person that you felt truly saw you. He consumed your thoughts 24/7. Some of your thoughts were innocent, while others...not so much. You were in a constant turmoil over whether you wanted his mouth to softly press against yours or to devour you in between your legs. Right now, both seemed like appealing options. You wanted to be with him, wanted to really show him how much you care for and appreciate him. However, you were unsure if he was willing to break the Jedi code for you. Maybe, you thought, you would have a chance with with him in another universe. But here, you were bound by a code both you and your crush swore not to break. Even still, you longed for Anakin in any way you could have him. You longed for him to take you, to decide what he wants to do with your body. You wanted him to absolutely destroy you and then shower you with love afterwards. How could breaking the code be so bad anyways if-

“Hello?” Your head snapped up as you were dragged from your thoughts. “I was trying to compliment you, and here you are off in a different galaxy.” Your eyes cautiously met his, apologetic and embarrassed.

“Sorry, master. You know how I can get lost in my head sometimes.” You chuckled awkwardly, hoping he couldn’t sense how desperately you were craving him right now.

“Yeah, I know all too well.” Anakin laughed and your heart practically melted. His laughter was intoxicating, and his smile could change your mood in an instant. Damn, he’s so beautiful-

“Hey!” Anakin snapped his fingers. “Don’t let me lose you again. Anyways, what I was trying to say is that you did really well today and I’m very proud of you.” You smiled and blushed.

“Thank you, master.”

“I know this mission has been very tedious and hard on you, but you’ve really impressed me with how well you’ve handled it.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks even more somehow, and you cleared your throat. His praise would have been endearing, had it not been for the arousal stirring between your legs. You crossed them uncomfortably.

“T-thank you, master. It really was nothin-”

“I’m serious. You’ve become such a beautiful person, and I couldn’t be more proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re going to make an incredible Jedi master someday, far better than I could ever be.” Anakin smiled genuinely, and reached out to grab your hand.

Your mouth was open slightly in shock. You had no idea how to respond or if you should just accept the compliments. The wetness you could feel gathering between your legs also wasn’t helping. “I...don’t know what to say.”

Anakin chuckled. “You don’t have to say anything.” Suddenly, Obi Wan cleared his throat from across the room, startling both of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I assumed that you both would like to know that we’re almost back to Coruscant.” Obi Wan looked between you and Anakin, seeing your hand held tightly in his. He gave a disapproving glare before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

You felt his grip release your hand and looked back up towards him, your eyes glassy and pleading with him, some last desperate attempt to have his hand back on yours. As much as he wanted to do much more than just hold your hand, he was bound by the code. Still, deep down you knew that he could only keep his resolve for so long. Soon enough, he was going to break.

And hopefully, soon after that, he would break you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Again, you awoke in a sweat, desperate with your fists tangled in the sheets. You were dreaming of Anakin all over you, inside you. This wasn’t something new to you. You were used to the fragmented and constantly interrupted sleep that was plagued (or blessed...yeah, you decided to go with blessed) with vivid dreams of Anakin taking you apart piece by piece. They felt too real, too tangible to be just a dream. Maybe they were visions, you pondered. Then again, maybe that was just the hopeful side of your brain taking over. It didn’t matter right now. Either way, you were stuck, alone in your bed craving a man who took an oath to never take you.

A knock on your door startled you, and you stayed silent. Who would be knocking on your door at almost three in the morning anyways? Your question was answered soon enough.

“I know you’re awake, you know. I could here your thoughts all the way from my quarters.” Anakin spoke from the other side of your door. Well, this wasn’t ideal. He was probably referring to your dream, in fact, you were sure of it. Great, so he came to reprimand you for thoughts that you not only couldn’t control, but were extremely embarrassed by.

“If you’re going to scold me, then you can just leave.” You rolled over, prepared for the sound of his footsteps getting further from your door.

“Why would I do that? You’d much rather that I praise you, isn’t that right?” Your breath caught in your throat. Scolding is one thing, but mocking you? That was just downright cruel. “I’m not mocking you, little one.” Your walls shot up, immediately guarding him from what was in your mind. In your half asleep state, they were down. Clearly that was a mistake. On another note, Anakin wasn’t mocking you. That was a surprise.

“I’m coming in.” You sat up in your bed and saw the door swing open almost impatiently, his pale skin shone in the moonlight, and you were sure yours did as well considering the sheen of sweat you were still in. His eyes sparkled with adoration or lust, you weren’t quite sure, as he made strides to sit beside you on the bed. You waited patiently for him to say something or make a move. He appeared to be pondering his words very carefully, something that he didn’t often do.

“I can sense your fear.” He brought one of his hands to rest on your thigh, a thin sheet preventing you from feeling his large hand on your skin. “Fear of what will happen if we break the code, if the council finds out.” A short, dry laugh escaped his lips as he was clearly amused with what he was about to say. “Even fear that I didn’t want you.” Your eyes widened, maybe he really did want you. “Don’t ever think for a second that I don’t want to have every inch of you, because I do.” He could see you practically melting before him with every word that tumbled from his lips. His lips, they would feel so soft and warm pressed against yours. Your composure chipped away and it took every fiber of your being to not lunge at him and kiss him passionately.

The hand that rested on your thigh traveled to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm affectionately. The relief of skin to skin contact, it was divine. You wanted more, you craved more. You would take absolutely anything he gave you. “You’re so gorgeous, padawan. My padawan.” Before you could stop it, you moaned softly. It was a moan of relief and pure bliss. His voice, his touch, it was consuming you and you couldn’t do anything but let yourself be enveloped in the feeling.

“You like that, huh padawan? You like feeling smaller than your master.” He cooed shifting his body to position himself closer to you. “Maybe you just like being called mine. Because you are. You are mine in every sense of the word. Your mind, your body, everything you are working for and everything you have been taught belongs to me.” You were slipping, deep into a head space that you couldn’t escape. You wanted to give him everything you had just so that he could take care of you. You craved that feeling of belonging to him and only him. “In the same regard, I belong to you, my padawan. As your master, it is my duty to guide you, give you everything you need.” Anakin’s breath fanned over your lips and you shuddered, opening your eyes to see him inches from your face. “Do you need me, my padawan?” You nodded, too dazed and entranced to form words. “Use your words, little one. I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, master.” You mumbled, eyes half shut with lust.

“Good girl.” His lips crashed against yours.

[darkobssessions]

Oh my god I am tired.

And it can’t be fixed by a good nutrient dense meal. Several days of good nutrient dense meals. Good sleep. Animal organ supplements and cod liver oil.

Not eating sugar. Not spending a fuckton of time on facebook.

Having a course to go to (that on it’s own is EXHAUSTING ME).

Ticking items off my checklist isn’t helping. Sitting and doing nothing because I’m too tired isn’t helping. Being honest on social media isn’t helping because I get advice that literally makes me want to off myself. 

Speaking to support welfare people isn’t helping because no matter what I say I will still look like an alien with wildly gesticulating hands and I will still speak gibberish to them. They will not understand the struggle. They smile and nod with sympathy, or is it empathy? And the meeting ends and I have to leave and start again. Transitions terrify me. I tell them this and they need examples.

Where should I start? Changing a table in a restaurant sends me into a panic because I am now looking at an unknown patch of wall and even though it is the same beloved restaurant I cannot enjoy a bite of food because it feels like I am in a different ‘space?’

That I screenshot the position of my apps on my phone so I know where I had them if they get scrambled? And any change I instate I have to check I am used to it by switching back and forth between layouts to see how I feel with each one? That if change is just done without that buffer period I feel physically ill and cannot move on?

That every new job or change my partner makes to his routine is a change to my micro-routines and I spend a week or more in actual psychotic episodic stress, sobbing, melting down, with a building tension and despair, until suddenly I am okay with this new thing. Until it changes AGAIN and I am not. 

That I feel the micro differences between how things were and what they have changed into. In a way that no one else notices. If a hat gets crushed in my carry on (which my favourite new one did this weekend) and it is flattened I know it will never go back to being how it was when I bought it, even if I fidget with it, bend it and try to reshape it. It is not MY hate anymore. It is a different hat. And it will never feel the same on my head as it DID. It will probably not be a favourite item anymore after this. 

That I can tell the difference between the slight change in colour of a piece of clothing if something has spilled on it that won’t come out, or I am making art and I have second thoughts about using a certain product and then do it anyway and the end result is just a hairline difference from what it looked like before BUT I CAN TELL and forevermore that piece of art is ruined, even if I give it as a gift, I don’t LIKE it anymore and it will never be the same. When I add too much ink to some fine writing and it is ugly now. 

When something changes with my hair or my body, like going to the dentist and I am out f sorts for weeks feeling the new tooth shape in my mouth and crying and grieving over the parts that were lost. How do I tell these people this? How do I explain to them that I just cannot rest if such a change has happened without an adequate time to prepare or grieve? That in the same way a compulsion operates, I cannot complete a task if something is missing, or move on if I am not 100% okay with where I stand with regards to any one thing.

So really why would a meal help?

Or some seemingly friendly people listening (while not understanding a thing)?

Or tons of free time (I should be doing important tasks in) that I end up wasting in existential dread?

Why does it matter that my brain is a supercomputer if I can’t organise my life? If I am burned out and I DO NOT want to engage with courses that ask me to stretch myself beyond the reasonable limit of compulsions not a single one of the others has?

I am exhausted, burnt out and still every day, dancing the dance without the dopamine, and patting myself on the back for not going on a murder spree, choking up all the drugs, crying in bed all day, giving up, destroying my possessions and just screaming gutturally. 

In many ways I am destroying my life by not being able to care, have motivation or move forwards in a healthy way. 

Need this course for the visa so I can stay with my partner in his country who is the only person who really knows me and takes care of me. 

He works a full time job and I sit at home in existential dread knowing full well I should put in those job applications (for the 10 measly hours I am alloted to work weekly), catch up on university emails and work (I don’t care even though it is what has me in this country to begin with), set up my depop listings so I can get some living money...

Lists, lists, tasks, steps in order and priorities...

Or even to gather my poetry for a book. Or to write a story of my experiences. But can I do that either?

Battling with the stubborn ‘I’m not doing it’ attitude even though it IS for me, for US to move forwards.

Trying to get my stubborn brain to understand that there will only be more of this apathy, boredom and struggle UNLESS and only if I can survive through this difficult thing, make it work, and grow as a result. I’ve been through enough pain and difficulty that I cannot reasonably tell myself to just struggle with it because ‘it will be okay in the end’. It never has been before why is this time different?

By being challenged to do these things now technically it should lead to a change because we have set it up differently than it ever has been before. It could lead to becoming independent for the first time in my life. And maybe even enjoying it. Make my greeting cards and products that I have so much fun making but for lots more people than just family and friends.

Share some of my stories, writing and art.

Come out into the world as who I really am. Be a bit less afraid. Dress up how I would like to. Filter my words less.

Be in touch more with that ageless space within me from whence all this comes. Do the ancestors justice by making use of all the things they literally died to bring into the world. 

Stop being so paralysed with dread and guilt. 

Open up more.

And maybe I won’t feel happy, but I will be on my way towards fulfilled, and I have a suspicion that’s the only thing that will fill my cup

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

》Another chance 《

Author's note: I've recently started rewatching Winx club for some reason (mainly because I'm bored out of my mind) and season 3 has always been my favourite, but I've just recently rediscovered it and the chemistry between main protagonist and antagonist in the series aka Bloom and Valtor (some people call him Baltor but I've always called him Valtor and I'll continue to do so). So in honor of those two and the fact that there AREN'T ENOUGH works about them, I present you my take on that.

Pairing: Bloom x Valtor/Baltor aka Sparxshipping (Winx Club)

Warnings: some crude language.

Summary: Bloom didn't destroy Valtor at the end of season 3, instead she offered him a deal. Help and work with her and her friends or spend an eternity frozen in Omega dimension (if she doesn't kill him first).

(The art is not mine, I've found it on google images)

"It was bold of you to come here for sure, but what did you think you were going to archive?"

She bravely locked eyes with him and leveled him with the fiercest glare he had ever seen on her. "I'm here to offer you a deal."

"A deal?" His tone was mocking. "What kind of deal?"

She stood tall and confident. "I want you to make a choice!"

"Between what?" His eyes narrowed.

"Helping me and staying alive and relatively free, or spending another eternity in Omega." Her gaze didn't flutter, she was dead serious.

His eyes widened comically and the only thing that came out of his mouth was, "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to kill you."

Valtor always saw himself as a free man, despite the fact he was never free. The three witches were those that created him and they owned him. Weapon first, person second. And that had never been more apparent than that time when they turned him into a demon against his will. Fucking curse. And there was Bloom. Her and her pathetic friends somehow managed to free all the spells he had stolen over the course of few months. And he also hated to admit, Trix's betrayal hurt more than he had anticipated. And he was ready to face Bloom and destroy her on Andros, but somehow, fairy of the dragon flame, much like his own, convinced him to strike a deal.

Now Valtor would have liked to say he told her to go fuck herself and go out with a bang, but there was this slight problem. He's a coward, simple as that. He didn't want to die. He spent 17 years frozen in that ice block in Omega dimension, but he preferred that over being dead. She showed sympathy and he hated her for that. How come a daughter of his sworn enemies, people that were responsible for the said sentence in Omega, was able to somehow melt his frozen heart? She was everything he was not, but the difference that stung the most was that she was brave. Braver than Valtor has been and ever will be. She somehow managed to forgive him, despite the fact he was the reason her planet, her parents, her sister, her people were no more. He hated her for that.

But as she stood before him in her skimpy Enchantix outfit he found himself... moved by her care. She was smart, there was no denying that fact, and, he grumpily noted, she was beautiful. Long red hair, piercing blue eyes, long, slim legs... she was a vision. And that was the point Valtor really wanted to slap himself, but unfortunately he didn't think it would help his case if he suddenly appeared mentally unstable on top of everything else. So he bit his tongue and locked those thoughts in a remote part of his brain.

"And what would this 'help' consist of? Who exactly would I be helping?" His tone was suspicious and his eyes narrowed once again, giving him that fierce look he was known for.

The fairy of the dragon smirked, something he has never seen her do. It looked surprisingly evil on her. "I want to resurrect Domino." She said it with such a straight face, Valtor almost bursted out laughing. That was, however, until he caught the look in her eyes. My god, she was serious. She was fucking serious.

"You, ehem..." he cleared his throat, "you're serious." The surprise was obviously quite evident on his face and her smirk turned into a full blown grin, her pearly white, straight teeth on full display. "And you want MY help with that? The guy who was responsible for everything that happened?"

She lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow and said, "I thought that would be a perfect way to redeem yourself."

He gawked at her. "You do realize that the witches still have me under their control, right?" Surely she couldn't be serious. If witches decided to mess with him again, he could go nuts and kill them all. And to be honest, he never wanted to kill any of them. He just wanted them out of his way.

"I have a solution for that as well." She looked so smug and Valtor wanted nothing else but to wipe that stupidly attractive look form her perfect face. He shook out of his trance when she spoke again. "Fairy dust." Two simple words, and yet they meant the world to Valtor. He could finally be free.

"Isn't you Enchantix incomplete? Isn't that way you were unable to shrink yourself in the Golden kingdom? " he saw her flinch. Probably because it was his fault her Enchantix powers weren't complete. "And who's fault is that?" Apparently she felt the need to remind him that herself.

He averted his gaze but he could still see her smirking in his peripheral vision, an obvious sign she wasn't angry. "I'm here aren't I? I'm the only one that is as strong as you, maybe even stronger. So I say we give it a shot." He leveled her with glare that could have made stone cry but it only seemed to amuse her even more. He watched her trying and falling to suppress her giggles and with a shake of his head, he said, "Careful princess, your ego is showing." She giggled even more. He sighed. "So basically, correct me if I'm wrong, you want me to be your guinea pig? Right?"

She smiled sympathetically. "Kind of..." He raised and eyebrow and her shoulders dropped. "Ok, yes. I kinda want you to be a guinea pig." He shook his head but smirked non the less. "Ok fine. Do what you think you have to." Her eyes widened and she grinned confidently. "Didn't expect me to say yes?" She shrugged. "To be honest, no, I wasn't expecting a yes."

"Here we go then." He turned his gaze back on her to see her doing a familiar formation with her fairy dust pendant and his eyes widened slightly in fear when she flew above him to sprinkle the dust onto him. He suddenly felt like he was burning inside out but at the same time he felt lighter than he ever felt in his life. The burn wasn't unpleasant at the beginning but as seconds passed, it was getting more and more uncomfortable. He almost got to the point where he wanted to scream, but at that moment the burning stopped and all his vision went black.

He woke up to the sound of different voices, some of which were concerned and the others were slightly accusatory and disbelieving. He opened his eyes and he slightly panicked when he only saw black, but quickly regained his bearings when he realized he was lying on the ground face first. He groaned and rolled over and the voices got quiet. He could hear a faint sizzling of warm, light magic, meaning it was probably coming from Stella, fairy of the sun and moon. "Bloom..." he managed through his raspy throat that felt like it had been washed with sand. He propped himself on his elbows and turned his gaze to the redheaded fairy. She was surrounded by her friends and the specialists and the message they were sending was clear, if wanted Bloom he'd have to go through them all. Too bad Valtor had no ill intentions anymore towards them, especially Bloom. He smirked and locked eyes with her. "...let's not do that again."

To be continued...

[urmomification]

SWAG ANOTHER DREAM SMP AU FIC IDEA THAT ILL NEVER WRITE POG

this is a very long post please im so sorry my brain it just

(tw for like slight possession n shit)

(sorry its all jumbled i write all of these in discord to my friend and copy paste them here please if u have questions ask me im always willing to talk abt this shit please it haunts me)

(context: i saw a tiktok abt the hc that both dream and techno are gods of some sort bc theyre mentioned in the tales of the smp by karl a time traveller and my brain just ran w it)

going back to the techno and dream are gods thing right so dream is a vessel for the god dream xd (??? work in progress youll know what im talking about at some point its really funny tho uve def seen clips of it) and he was possessed?? by the god after the server started (when he started going from super friendly with everyone to control/power hungry) when he started sacrificing everything for power so no one could have power over him? that was the god making him do it bc the god was terrified of not being in control since theyd lost it all to techno in their past. thats why we never see dream and techno fight and why we see dream extend help and support to him at times as well as respecting his boundaries and such bc theyre scared of techno (again w the best of 10 duel reference, techno killed the god in a past life which is why the god has been forced to use a human vessel to get anything done on the mortal plane) but when something that powerful spends pretty much any amount of time in something mortal and mundane like a person, the host body starts to change (hence the mask) i like to think that the god would be akin to that of a biblically correct angel?? like the ones w multiple eyes n shit yk so after time things start to happen to normal dreams body he gets extra sets of eyes and he gets taller and overall his body seems just Too Small for whatevers inside of him and thats why he (hc) started wearing the mask in the first place he knew something was wrong w him but he didnt want anyone to know even tho they would most likely help him he was ashamed that he was different in the first place so he started wearing the mask once the other eyes showed up. and i think that the god would talk to dream similarly to how technos voices work yk? except its just the one voice instead of many many small ones. and again with the mask thing when he lost to tommy and they took him in, part of his mask broke to the point where u could see just a bit of the right side of his face but enough to see that it Wasnt Right there were two eyes where there shouldve been one and spots on his cheeks bright enough to resemble stars and where the color of his pupil should have been is just a sickeningly neon green with nothing else behind it. so they let him keep the mask even tho they already know something is wrong but it clearly makes him Very Distressed when asked to remove the mask or told to give it up. blah blah blah god harassing its host bc it got them caught and thrown in a prison and dream goes ever so slightly insane having to share a mind and body with a literal ancient god w a vendetta against everything hes built whos forced him to sacrifice everything he loved and cared for out of fear yk the usual prison shit and then techno comes a long and breaks him out or whatever but on their way back to his house he drops a really cryptic line abt how 'its nice to see an old friend again' and 'i thought i got rid of u for good last time' and dream is just ???? what are u talking about?? weve never been friends and youve never gotten rid of me? what. until techno spins around and just 'im not talking to you im talking to the thing inside u' or whatever and dreams eyes flash some brilliant gold or sumn and boom this is ur fellow god speaking how may i help you and dream xd (that feels so wrong to say but) and techno bond or well ig just talk abt how the past centuries have gone and ig while xd is fronting (??? i think itd kinda be like DID in a sense w multiple people being able to front yk?) dream is in a sort of semi conscious state but still hears everything going on around his own body until hes thrown back into the drivers seat (i think that xd would only be able to front for short periods of time due to the vessel n shit that makes sense right) and hes so confused someone please help him hes just a dude who happened to get possessed by a god someone help him so when they finally get back to technos house he sits dream down and explains the best he can without literally melting dreams brain. which would also play into the 'technoblade never dies' bc hes. literally a god. mortals cant kill him unless they have idk some sort of super weapon idk and blah blah blah xd gets what they want and finally has the ability to leave finally leaving dream literally the shell of a man with no home friends materials or anything with techno to basically take care of him until he reaches some semblance of stability again (which would take ages, realistically (wdym realistically) going from normal, to a god sharing a body with you and speaking in you brain living as a single being together and hearing their thoughts, to back to normal but with all the memories of what you did and what they made you do and also no more god speaking in ur head it would take a hot sec to recover from) so he lives with techno (whos, not to mention, another god) for a while until he can fend for himself again and after a good year or so passes and no one hears from dream they start to look for him and see what happened bc he went from the biggest threat on the server to just. gone. no one knows where he went after whatever he did and they want closure. is he dead?? who knows. so george and sap set out looking for him and decide to ask techno for help since hes good w directions n shit also he was the last person to see dream alive so he might have an idea of where he is and they walk up to his house and knock on his door and techno opens it and just stares at them he knows who they are, dreams talked about them before but hes never met them really so he talks to them, getting through the polite hellos how are yous before sap finally asks 'do you know what happened to dream? no one knows where he went and we just want closure' techno huffs and tells them to wait there he (this is the basement door im using his arctic tundra house in my head) goes down the ladder to the second basement, they can hear him talking to multiple people (ranboo phil dream) but cant tell who everyone is before coming back up the ladder, back to the door. he tells them to wait outside he needs to get something first (its dream hes getting dream) theyre standing out by carls stable when the door creaks open and dream steps out looking around for who the fuck could possibly be looking for them he betrayed everyone and most people thought he was dead who could possibly be here asking for himself and not ranboo or philza and when he steps out, his green hoodie (memento made by ranboo to help him cope w the loss of the voice in his head) catching the morning light off the snow and he was happy and then he saw them standing by the house hed grown to call home at least for now he breaks. he missed them so so much it hurt. he never expected to see them ever again much less them come looking to see him but hes scared he realizes he doesnt know what to say there is nothing to say he fucked them all over he ruined everything and then hes being hugged. they missed him too. they dont forgive him jsut yet but they missed him and thats enough for him right now. the three of them stand there just being in each others presences and techno creaks the door open to make sure they arent trying to kill each other and sighs and leans against the frame smiling. hes happy again and thats the best he can do for him. he invites them all in and offers to explain everything to them to try and ease the blame off of dream bc in all honesty it was his fault but xd made it far far worse that it should have been (a bit late but foot note abt xd i think that they would be an idle god until someone w intense feelings of powerlessness and insecurity like awoke them from their techno induced slumber and inhabited dream to help him fulfill his desires for power and control) and by the time he and dream are finished its late at night and sap and george are ??? so u were possessed by a god who techno killed centuries ago in a duel and it amplified ur feelings of insecurity and ur thirst for control to the point of isolating urself from us and destroying everything everyone cared abt?? also technos an ancient god who lusts for bloodshed but also makes turtle farms in his free time?? are we getting this right????? and techno and dream are just yea thats abt it glad this all made sense then they all go to bed (its a small house dream has a lil shack like ranboos and sap and george somehow slept over there for the night) and in the morning sap and george leave again but promise to come back, they still arent ready to forgive and forget bc even tho it wasnt all his fault his emotions getting away from him is what caused this all in the first place so they do need time to process now that they know he isnt dead and dream continues to live near techno in almost full independence and eventually moves back with his friends even tho many still hate him. hes happy and for now thats enough. another foot note; even after xd leaves his being, he still has the extra eyes, glowy freckles n is xtra tall n shit that cant just be reversed but now that hes himself again these things take their tolls on human bodies so i think hed have something at least similar to arthritis bc of how his bones were literally manipulated bc of how strong ethereal magic or whatever is. so he would still wear the broken mask but he takes it off now and is ok with it being off hes working on getting better now that hes himself again and everyone living w/by techno is helping him with that. also i think that he would get blinks of xd's memories like from when techno was killing them and have sumn like ptsd panic attacks from it and techno feels super guilty abt it but theres literally nothing he can do except apologize and after the first few times dream stopped him from apologizing bc it is his fault but he didnt do it to him so it doesnt matter to dream at least and they live in pretty much harmony until dream finally moves back in w george and sap the end. he also started wearing the mask in the first place bc of the extra eyes but he played it off as being uncomfortable around new people and not wanting them to know what he looked like until he trusted them (bc that literally makes sense irl how funky is that) so sap and george never pushed him and when they caught him without it on on the rare occasion they wouldnt pressure him to leave it off or anything even tho they already knew what he looked like (when they respect ur boundaries </3) they just assumed that it was insecurity (it was but also mans had like 3 eyes so) and just left him alone

[the--regenerating--degenerate]

Sol Invictus

A/N: Thanks go out to Selene Sokal and his fic, By Steel and Starlight, which helped inspire this work. If you haven't read it go give a look. It is really good. This fic is not a prequel to his, this is inspired by.

You may also be wondering about Blake's name; I wanted the Faunus to feel like they have their own culture, naming conventions and actually feel like a separate distinct people. Their naming convention is their Family Name first, followed by clan then given name. The 'Ist' in their name is their way of saying 'I am from' or 'Of this place.' Much like the German 'Von.'

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Chapter Two: The White Fang

Ruby Rose loved ships, she loved everything about them and every type. From three-man fighters and interceptors to the behemoth dreadnaughts and carriers. Ruby was never happier than when she was exploring, learning or working on a spacecraft.  It was exactly because of this love of ships she wished that she was allowed to explore every inch of the Muninn more often. 

Sadly, permission was a rare event and it was always begrudgingly given by Aunt Raven. 

Though it also wasn't often that Ruby did ask for permission. Nor did she ever approach her pirate aunt without Yang's, her older sister, supporting presence.

So Ruby had developed a love/hate relationship with the Muninn. 

She loved the ship for what it was. From the RSDC Series 2 power core, to her sleek Adel-Rolls R Series 450 sub-light engines, to the polished gleam of her black bulkheads, to the incredibly rare and expensive Luna-Shawcross DF2 Fold drive. The Muninn was an engineering marvel.

She hated the ship for what it was. A frigate-sized, but cramped ship, filled with people who went out of their way to avoid her; with Ruby’s only real friend being her older sister. Not even Aunt Raven cared to spend any time getting to know her ex-husband’s second daughter.

Ruby was used to the disparaging glares and sneers that she got from Raven and her crew. It wasn't all that different from the Royal Valian Naval Academy; were even the instructors did not particularly care to be in close proximity of the energetic brunette for long periods of time.

No, she avoided Raven more for the sense of potential violence which seemed to coalesce around Raven like a thick miasma.  

“Sorry, Rubes.” Yang would say, as the two sisters would walk back to their shared quarters. “Raven is… Well, she’s busy. Lots for us to do. Maybe next time.”

Ruby never asked Yang why she always referred to her mother as Raven. She wanted to. Desperately too. But it had been years since Yang had run away to join Raven in Wild Space; and the two of them had only recently reunited. 

Though the two young women had made great strides in reconciliation; to the point were sometimes it almost felt like they were back home on Port Patch, or on their father’s old freighter; they were still… hesitant over certain subjects.  

Raven being one of those. 

Yang’s gene-tailoring being another. 

Ruby sighed. She had been frightened when she had first finally reunited with her older sister planetside; before being brought onboard the Muninn. If it hadn’t been for the long, blonde hair and lilac coloured eyes, Ruby would have hardly recognized the hulking, almost brutish stranger who waited for her at the dock that day. 

Yang had always been big, tough, strong. Now she looked like she could rival those who had grown up on high grav worlds. Her arms, legs, shoulders were thick with muscle and bone. The scaly ridges on Yang’s forehead, the slit pupil eyes and elongated, animalistic, fang-like canines, frightened her. If Ruby hadn’t known any better she would have sworn her sister was a Faunus. The sight had caused Ruby to doubt that Yang was really Yang anymore.  

But then as soon as Ruby stepped off the shuttle, Yang had run over and scooped her up in a tight, loving hug; and Ruby felt her doubts and fears melt away. Yang almost broke her younger sister’s ribs, as she embraced her for the first time in years. The two of them nearly crying in each other’s arms. 

The look of pure joy and happiness that had split Yang’s mouth into a wide smile. It was so obvious that Yang regretted splitting the two sisters up. Regretted leaving Ruby behind as she wandered off to explore the galaxy and find her mother. Ruby cried herself for doubting her big sister. So here they were. Comfortable with each other for the most part, but still having to walk delicately around one another.

Speaking of Yang, Ruby groaned irritably inward. Where is she? I’m booooooored!

She had been gone for several hours. At least according to the crono-sphere in their cabin. She had gone to take care of some business for Aunt Raven and had left Ruby with precious little to do in the meantime. 

Well… I could always clean Crescent Rose… Again… 

Ruby spared a sideways glance at her precious rifle. It was one of the very few things that Ruby had brought with her from the Academy. Crescent Rose was her baby. Her prized possession. A VA M29 designated marksman rifle; Ruby had been quick to tamper with, rebuild and customise every part from the upper to lower reciever, pistol grip, trigger assembly, fire selection and even the barrel. She had even given the rifle a red and black custom paint job, with a stylized rose right above the magazine well. 

Currently, her beloved weapon was laid out on Ruby and Yang's shared table. Ruby had stripped her down, laying each part out in a neat, meticulous order. From there Ruby had obsessively gone over each and every part until they shone brightly even in the dim light of Muninn.

To clean Crescent Rose again would be the height of redundancy.Not that Ruby wasn’t willing to do it. Nothing was too good for her baby.

Or… She could go out to find Yang. Maybe catch Aunt Raven in a good mood. A good enough mood that she would allow Ruby to wander through the belly of the Muninn? 

It was tempting. 

So that was her choice. Sit around, clean Crescent Rose for the seventh hundredth time. Or go and ask her Aunt. 

Besides Yang is there talking to her. It couldn’t hurt to ask. An eager, but nervous smile playing across her lips as she slipped on her bright red cloak and stepped out into the dim hall. 

-----------

The snapping of metal, the of breaking porcelain and the shattering of glass echoed in Raven's quarters, as Yang’s fist smashed through the incredibly expensive Mistral tea set and the crystal and gold inlay table it had once sat upon. 

Raven huffed irritability as Yang, it seemed was unsatisfied with merely breaking what had once been an extravagant tea set; decorated with painstakingly hand painted scenes of cherry trees in full bloom, their blossoms catching on the warm spring winds; and its equally masterworked table; and so continued to punch it until it was an unrecognizable mess of porcelain, crystal and broken shards of twisted metal.

 “Are you quite finished with your tantrum? Or do you wish to find something else worth more than a Mistralian frigate to smash?” Raven asked when Yang, panting heavily in deep, shuddering breaths finally stopped. 

Behind Yang stood the ever-faithful Vernal, her tattooed and kill-marked arms crossed above her chest; she bore a look of rare concern. Not that it was needed, but Raven still valued the loyalty. 

“Tantrum?” Yang bit back, “ you made me kill a man in cold blood! Then tell me I am throwing a tantrum?” 

“Because you are.” Raven never once raised her voice, but allowed a tinge of ice-cold anger to colour it. “I gave you a choice. You choose to follow through with it. Now you get to live with it.” 

“That bullshit again? You never gave me a choice. It was that or die.” Yang glared at her as she shook her head, “Dad never wanted me to come out here. Uncle Qrow told me to stay away from you. I couldn’t. I had to see who you are with my own eyes. Away from Dad’s nostalgia and Uncle Qrow’s cynicism.”    

“And have I lived up to your expectations? Your dreams, your fantasies?” Raven rolled her eyes, a hint of an ill patient frown forming. “This is who were are. We are the strong, so we take. I am the strongest, so I lead. That is all there is to it. If you thought that a pirate would be fun, adventure, steal from the rich for the needy then you are even more foolish than I ever thought. Your father’s influence no doubt.”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that!” Yang whirled on her, hands clenched into fists. “He was there. He raised me, never abandoned me to go off and play pirate-queen in some far off flung shit-hole in the galaxy.” 

“Yet here you are.” Raven smirked, “so eager for praise and so willing to do what I ask. You cannot blame me for the choices you make my daughter.”

Yang fell silent for a moment, staring at the remains of the tea set and crystal table. There was truth to that. She had done what Raven asked. She had been apart of boarding parties, seizing ships and killing the crew. But they had always been armed. They always had a way of fighting back. 

But was it any different?

Yang felt sick to her stomach just asking herself the question. Raven was right. It had been Yang’s choice. No matter what excuse she tried to come up with.

Yang took a long calming breath, lilac coloured eyes met Raven’s blood red. “I’m leaving Raven. I’m taking Ruby and I am leaving. I’m done with this, I’m done with you. We’re going back home.” 

“Are you now?” Raven asked with a hint of amusement. 

“Yes. You can’t stop me Raven.” Yang hissed, turning to leave. “Get out of my way Vernal.”

“I don’t need to do anything to stop you from leaving Yang. You’ve oh so helpfully put that collar around your own neck.”

Yang snorted as she reached for the door control. 

“What would Ruby think of her big sister painting the back wall with brains of an unarmed and helpless man?” Raven said, arching a delicate black eyebrow.

Yang froze. Her hand just over the control. If Ruby found out… it would destroy them. She was still haunted by Ruby’s fearful silver eyes when they had met at the docks. Ruby had been frightened, terrified by what her big sister had become. If Ruby found out she was a murderer, what little connection they had rebuilt would be gone. 

Yang would be alone. Truly alone. Just the thought of that sent chills down her spine. 

“You wouldn’t.” Yang’s voice barely registered above a whisper. 

“I would. You have a weakness, one that I can and will exploit. You are useful to this tribe and to this crew Yang. I don’t like to waste useful things.” Raven’s tone was bored and uninterested, as though discussing the weather. “Now, go see to the prisoner and get prepared for our guest. They should be arriving in the next three days or so. I want us to be prepared. You are dismissed, Yang.”

Before Yang could turn to leave, there was a hesitant knock on the door. 

“Cap’in Raven.” The man at the door nodded in respect as he entered,. “Forgive the interruption but we received a message from the buyer.”

“And you couldn’t call me on the com?” Raven asked, clearly annoyed. It was never particularly healthy to the life expectancy of the one she was annoyed at.

“It was marked specifically for you Cap’in. I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t.” The man held out a small disk, his hand shaking with nerves. 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Fine. Yang bring it here, and you, get out of my sight.”   

She took the disk from Yang, slotting it into the player. Soon a holographic woman appeared in the middle of the player. Long black hair, eyes hidden by a white mask of Grimm… and a pair of twitching cat ears on the top of her head. 

“Faunus.” Yang gasped in surprise. This was unexpected. It was rare to see the Faunus outside of the Menagerie Systems. 

“Captain Branwen Raven Ist Muninn.” The recording started with a nod of her head, “I am Belladonna Zech Blake Ist White Fang. I have been asked by our leader Brother-Commander Taurus Naut Adam Ist White Fang to open negotiations and confirm that the prisoner is indeed who you say she is. My ship and I will be arriving at the coordinates you gave him within the standard day. I look forward to speaking with such an ally.” 

The hologram gave another nod of her head, before flickering away. 

It was all Yang could do to retain her horror, keeping her head straight and expression unreadable. The White Fang? She's planning on selling the Schnee to the White Fang?

The White Fang were extremists, who thought the Faunus Uprising was still a war being fought. They were enemies of the Protectorate; while Yang was no fan of Atlas she knew what the White Fang would do if they got their hands on the Heir Apparent. 

Across from her, Raven met her eyes and smiled that cold, calculating smile of hers.

It would be war.        

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

Ruby ran. She needed to get back to their room. She needed time, time to think, time to process. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. 

She felt tears running down her cheek. 

No. No. 

It wasn’t possible. Yang was emotional, sure. She had a temper that was more than obvious. But she wasn’t a murderer. She couldn’t be.

The old Yang could have never had murdered someone. Another more cynical part of Ruby’s mind whispered, but what about this new one? The one who I haven’t seen in five years. 

Images of Yang staying up late reading her bedtime stories, bandaging skinned knees and packing her lunches for school, danced through her head. It was quashed brutally an instant later by a new hulking and unnatural monster. A monster wearing her sister’s face, whose lips were now curled into a slasher’s crazed grin. 

The door to their room slid open, as Ruby dashed inside, jumping onto her cot, taking in deep, calming breaths. 

Okay, okay. Breathe calm down. Did I hear what I thought I heard? Ruby closed her eyes, hearing Raven’s voice float through where Ruby had been listening at the door of Raven’s cabin. 

“What would Ruby think of her big sister painting the back wall with brains of an unarmed and helpless man?” 

And all Yang could respond with was a helpless whisper of “you wouldn’t.”

Ruby’s face fell. She had done it. Yang had murdered someone. 

And it broke Ruby’s heart. 

Yang had changed. The years had changed her. Every doubt, every fear that Ruby had felt when she saw what Yang had become. The mon…

Ruby’s eyes settled on the picture, hanging just above Yang’s bed. A crayon drawing. Simple, yellowing with age. A four-year-old’s picture; the vivid colours, too bright and gaudy to exist in reality, the simple lines and unproportioned autonomy of the two children and the mother and father, all of whom were far too big to fit in the small box simply labeled ‘house.’ Misspelled of course.

Yang had kept it all these years. Above her bed.

Yang wasn’t a monster. 

They would have a lot to talk about. Yang had left her, left her to go and wander the galaxy looking for Raven, looking for her mother. Despite what their dad had told them, despite what Uncle Qrow had warned them, Yang was so stubborn and so hot-headed she went anyway.

Yang had killed people. She had changed. Or had been changed.  

But despite everything, Yang still kept that picture, taped over her bed.

Ruby knew they would have a lot to say. She knew there would be anger, she knew there would be yelling. Not just from Yang, but from herself as well. But they could deal with that later. 

Yang needed her. Yang would never admit it, but she needed someone to rescue her. She was trapped on this pirate ship.

Ruby smiled as old memories of Yang walking her to school, making breakfast, scolding their comatose father after Summer had passed away. Teaching him how to be a father again once Qrow had snapped him out of his dressed stupor. 

Now it was Ruby’s turn to protect her sister. All she needed was a plan.

Ruby stood up and walked over to where Crescent Rose lay stripped on the table, she closed her eyes and began reassembling the rifle. 

--------

It was only a short while later when Yang burst into the room just as Ruby finished tightening Crescent Rose’s scope onto the top of the rail.

She barely got a word out in greeting, before Yang had picked her up and pulled her into a bone-cracking sisterly hug.

"Yang… can't breathe." Ruby managed to squeak before Yang gently put her down.

"Ruby… I'm sorry. I messed up. I've messed up." Yang blurted, as she rushed past her sister, grabbing a bag and shoving her belongings haphazardly into it. 

"Get your stuff ready to go.” Yang ordered firmly, “we're leaving."

"Leaving?" Ruby asked, brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t been expecting this. Ruby had thought it would be a massive fight to try and convince her sister to leave.  

Yang nodded, grabbing the crayon drawing and carefully folding it, before placing it gently in a breast pocket. 

"Leaving. You and me…" Yang hesitated, "... and the prisoner Raven has onboard."

Ruby nodded in relief. "Good."

She looked over at her completed rifle on the desk, her silver eyes then sliding to the pistol on Yang's hip. "You got a plan?" 

Yang smiled nervously. "No… You know me… I’ve never been one to sit around and think things through. But were going to need one soon The White Fang are coming to meet us in less than a day."

“The White Fang?” Ruby couldn’t believe what she was hearing, her sister was dealing with the White Fang of all people?

“Yes the White Fang. Which is why we need to get out of here as soon as we can.” Yang collapsed down on her cot, “some guarantor arriving first before the actual buyer. So we need to get out of here before the buyer actually arrives.”   

“Alright then,” Ruby pulled her chair close to her sister cot and sat down facing Yang. “So the guarantor is arriving before the actual buyer?” 

Yang nodded. “No idea how long before hand. Maybe a day at the most.” 

Ruby sat there quiet for several minutes, then she smiled, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. “Okay then. I have an idea…”

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

Weiss’s eyes snapped open as the door to the brig slid open with a hiss.  Dull artificial light from the lamps just outside the brig flooded her dark, cramped cell.. There was the smell of recyke and the heavy tread of boots belonging to that hulking genebred freak.

“I...brought you dinner.” 

The plate was placed gently on the floor, just in front of her cage. Weiss turned to look at her new guard. Yang, she thought she recalled; or something similar. 

The woman’s head was bowed, refusing to look Weiss in the eye, even as she placed a small canteen of water next to the tray.

“It's… mostly recyke, unfortunately. But I was able to grab a lump of ship bread too.” The woman, Yang, sounded almost apologetic; as she waved a hand at the lump of grey matter next to the bar of recyke. 

“So what?” Weiss finally spat, her voice rough from a lack of use over the past weeks. “Want me to thank you? Want me to bestow my gratitude onto a murderer?”

She sat up onto her knees, all the room that her cage barely allowed; before bowing at the waist to Yang. 

“Thank you oh my dear captor. Thank you for showing me some small mercy, after you shot my unarmed crewmember. I will remember this magnanimous show of grace from a murderer when I am finally released to whatever slave market, or small-time warlord, your oh so merciful Mistress deems fit for her purpose. Truly you have earned the favour of the Heir-Apparent of the Protectorate.” 

Weiss couldn’t help but grin as Yang’s eyes narrowed and her temper flared briefly at the sarcasm which dripped from the Heir-Apparent. Apparently struggling not to lash out and quash it as Yang’s body shook with anger. 

“I didn’t really have a choice.” Yang snarled, before taking another calming breath. “I’m not here for that anyway.”

“Oh? Then why? Here to gloat? Here to see the fall of grace of your better?” Weiss’s tone was as sharp as the Atlassian tundra wind in the deep of winter. “I didn’t give that woman before you the satisfaction. You can expect the same, brute.”

“Raven wants to sell you to the White Fang.” Yang cut in. Weiss noticed her fingers curling as though she was only a step away from wanting to strangle her. “They are going to be here in the next day or so.” 

That stopped Weiss cold. Any retort, or insult she had planned to throw at the gene-tailored blonde, was caught in her fear swollen throat. 

“The White Fang?” Weiss finally whispered unbelievably. “Why… that…”

Weiss paused, collected herself. “If your Captain turns me over to the White Fang… I’ll be executed.” 

Yang nodded. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Weiss snapped, before leaning back against the wall. “If the White Fang kills me, the Protectorate will have no choice but to go to war with Menagerie. It would be a slaughter...” 

“Which would drag in the other powers.” Yang finished for her. “Another Great War, billions dying, whole systems left to waste and to the mercy of pirates like Raven. Not to mention the Grimm.” 

Weiss looked up at her, somewhat in shock.

Yang shrugged with a barely concealed smug grin. “Just because I am some space pirate frontier bumpkin doesn’t mean I don’t have some grasp on the current state of the galaxy.”   

She took a quick look over the back of her shoulder before leaning in close to Weiss’s cage, her voice hushed and quick. “Look, there is a small group of them coming to see if you are who we say you are. That’s going to be our best chance. You, me and my sister, are going to take their ship and get out of here. This is going to be our only chance. I suggest you eat and regain some of your strength."

She pushed the tray closer to Weiss.

"I never wanted any of this. So I am going to do what is right."

Yang stood up and without another word walked out of the brig, leaving Weiss alone with the tray and the dark.

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

Belladonna Zech Blake Ist White Fang paced uneasily up and down the small bridge of the raider the Red Claw. Adam had trusted her with this task. His top lieutenant, his favourite amongst all his White Fang Brothers and Sisters. 

His best friend

His lover. 

And the one who would betray him. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. It would be her and the captive against several dozen pirates. Then Bake would need to kill her compatriots. Faunus she had spent the better part of several years serving with. Fighting on the frontier against slavers, pirates and raiders and then themselves becoming those same pirates, slavers and raiders.

When she was a girl, the White Fang were her heroes. The ones who had united the divided clans and families. The ones who had driven the Protectorate out of Menagerie. They had rebuilt Faunus culture, preserved their history. The ones who later fought against the slavers, pirates and raiders who descended on the system, like vultures to prey. 

It broke her heart to admit it, but the White Fang had changed.

Or maybe they hadn’t. 

Now she had seen what the White Fang truly was. This ship the Red Claw was part of that proof. It had been a human ship. A freighter making the runs from the Protectorate to the Vacuo Union, the White Fang had seized. The crew, at least those who weren’t useful, were disposed of. The rest were forced to teach the various White Fang members what skills they knew. They were kept alive only because they were useful. To be later disposed of when that usefulness wore out. 

Blake had only realized that recently. 

Then Adam had shared his grand plan with her; the new ally he had made in Wild Space. 

Blake shuddered. No. 

The White Fang, once a beacon for hope, a brighter future for the Faunus, was now a force so blinded by their own righteousness; it had become self-destructive. Not just for itself, but for Faunus kind.

“Sister-Lieutenant Belladonna.” A helmswoman wearing a heavy Ursa Grimm mask approached her, dragging Blake from her thoughts. “Preparations have been made, the Fold-Drive is online. We can make the Fold anytime on your orders.” 

Blake nodded. “Thank you Sister. Prepare to Fold on my mark.” 

She watched the tick of seconds on her the crono strapped to her wrist, counting allowed for the bridge crew to hear. “Four, three, Gods of Sanctuary Preserve. Mark.”

In an instant, thousands of billions of kilometres condensed and folded in on themselves; the Red Claw shot forward, towards a meeting with the last person Blake ever thought she would have to rescue. 

Blake would have to save Weiss Schnee, Heir-Apparent of the Protectorate of Atlas, from not the Dread-Pirate Raven, but her own Brothers and Sisters of the White Fang. 

She had her work cut out for herself.

[emospritelet]

Never did this before, so hope I'm doing it right...DH Prompt 55: “ Shut up and kiss me already. ”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Part 26] [Part 27] [Part 28] [Part 29] [Part 30] [Part 31]

Prompts all come from this list.

AO3 link

Dinner at Granny’s was an enjoyable affair; Neal and Emma proclaimed the ribs to be among the best they’d eaten, and Henry ate his burger, half of Belle’s fries and somehow still had room for apple pie.  Once the plates had been cleared and coffees poured, Gideon dozed on his father’s lap while Henry flicked through his book, explaining some of the stories within to Gold.

“Wait, so Red Riding Hood is the wolf in this?” said Gold.  “A singular interpretation.”

“Yeah, and she’s so cool!” said Henry enthusiastically.  “She helps Snow White to hide from the Evil Queen!”

“Wasn’t it always the Huntsman who helped Snow White?”

“Oh, he does, but the Queen found out and took his heart,” said Henry.  “So now he has to do whatever she says. He was raised by wolves, and he loves the forest, but she keeps him trapped in the castle.”

“Well,” said Gold.  “She sounds very unpleasant.”

“Yeah,” agreed Henry.  “But I kinda feel sorry for her.  It’s like she thinks that destroying happy endings for everyone will make her happy, but it only makes her miserable.”

“I suspect there’s a moral in there somewhere,” remarked Gold, glancing at Belle.

“Yes,” she said firmly.  “Let yourself be happy, and don’t make decisions for other people.”

She smirked at him, and he sent her a tiny grin, kissing the top of Gideon’s head.

Gold had offered to cook dinner the next night, and so Belle spent her day at the flower shop with Gideon, closing up at four and heading home.  He was already preparing food when she arrived, and Belle lifted her nose and sniffed at the scent of chocolate wafting through the kitchen.

“I made a cake,” he said.  “It’s been awhile since I baked anything.  I enjoyed it.”

The cake was cooling on a wire rack, dark and rich, and she grinned as she went to inhale its scent.

“What are you going to put on it?” she asked.  “I could make some buttercream.”

“I have fresh cream, and some raspberries,” he said.  “There’s a little framboise in the liquor cupboard as well.  Might be nice to pour on the sponge. Henry can have coulis, save the booze for the rest of us.”

Belle spied a glass jar of thick, crimson sauce, and stuck a finger in it, licking off the taste of sweetened fresh raspberries.

“So, that’s dessert sorted,” she remarked.  “Delicious. What about the rest?”

“I thought we’d keep things simple,” he said.  “Pasta?”

“The cheesier the better,” she agreed, and he grinned.

He made macaroni cheese, with garlic bread and a crisp green salad to cut the richness, and by the time Emma, Neal and Henry arrived the pasta was bubbling in the oven, the cheese sauce thick and glistening, golden brown on the top.  There was cold white wine, sharp and fruity on the tongue, and the garlic bread was fragrant, making lips and fingers slick with melted butter.  There was silence for the first ten minutes as everyone ate, but then the conversation started up.  Emma and Neal spoke about places to visit in Boston, and which areas were the best, and the easiest routes to Belle’s university.

“We pulled a few all-nighters in the library, huh Belle?” said Emma, gesturing with her fork.

“Yeah.”  Belle took a sip of wine.  “Not sure I can do that anymore.  Since having Gideon I’ve decided I need to take my sleep where I can get it.”

“I don’t want you studying so hard you make yourself ill,” said Gold, and she shook her head, running a hand over his thigh.

“It was only around exam time,” she said.  “My study technique improved, so hopefully having a baby won’t mean I’ve forgotten everything I learned.”

“Finals are a bitch,” said Emma, with feeling.  “Can I get another glass of wine?”

“Of course.”

Gold poured her the wine, offering the bottle to Neal, who held out his glass.

“Thanks,” he said.  “This mac and cheese is awesome, by the way.”

“It’s so good,” agreed Henry.  “Why isn’t yours this good, Mom?”

“Gee, thanks,” said Emma, in a flat tone, and Henry grinned at her as he held out his plate for more.

“Your mac and cheese is awesome too, babe,” Neal assured her.

“Well, now you just sound like you have to say that,” she remarked, taking a drink.

“No, I just know what to say to get more of the good stuff,” he said, with a wicked grin.

“That a fact?”  She was smiling at him, her eyes sparkling.  "You always were a smooth talker, Cassidy.“

"Good thing you can read me like a book then, huh?” he said, winking at her.

“I know when I’m being thrown a line, yeah.”

“So are you biting?” he asked, and her grin widened.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

Neal leaned in to kiss her, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Henry made a gagging motion behind his hand, causing Gold to break into a wide smile as he reached for his wineglass.  He shared a grin with Belle, dark eyes twinkling, and clinked his glass against hers.  The wine was making her pleasantly light-headed, and she could feel herself relaxing with the comfort of good food and good company.  She kept her hand on Gold's thigh, enjoying the firm warmth of him, the closeness, and his eyes softened a little as he glanced at her, that smile still on his face.

Belle got the impression that Gold, the seasoned loner, was enjoying having guests in his house for dinner.  She realised that at the very heart of him was the soul of a person who wanted to care for others, the nurturing side that came out through the preparation of good food and wine, and the pleasure it gave him to share it.  The harshness of his earlier life, the lack of any kindness or love, had gotten in the way, creating barriers of cold stone, forbidding walls of spiked blackthorn. He had begun to break through that for Gideon, and for her, and for a moment, talking and laughing with her friends around the dinner table, she began to sense what life could be like for him, for their family, when he faced his demons and beat them.  She wondered if he felt it too; his eyes kept flicking to Neal, and to Henry, that tiny crease of puzzlement still between his brows, as though he couldn’t quite fathom how he had ended up there with a kitchen filled with chatter and laughter and the clink of glasses.

Henry had two helpings of the pasta, and after the plates had been cleared Gold handed around dishes of the chocolate cake, layered up with raspberries and cream and with raspberry liqueur soaking into the sponge.

“Dear God, that’s amazing,” said Emma, licking cream from her fork.  “I can see why you want to move in with this guy, Belle.”

“Cooking’s only the second most incredible thing he does with his hands,” said Belle, and giggled as Gold gave her a very level look.

“What’s the first?” asked Henry curiously, and Belle blushed.

“I also clean up afterwards,” said Gold blandly.

“Some nights that’s better than the other thing,” said Emma, and winked at him.

“What other thing?”

“Sleeping,” said Neal, ruffling his hair.  “Which is what you should be doing, buddy. You done with your cake?”

Henry scraped up the last of the cream and raspberry sauce, licking his spoon.

“I wanted to tell Mr Gold the story of Beauty and the Beast,” he said despondently.

“You can tell me next time,” said Gold.  “I have a feeling that story may resonate with me.”

He glanced across at Belle, reaching out to thread his fingers through hers, and she smiled at him, happy and warm and filled with contentment.  This was how their life could be. This was how it would be.

Her head ached a little the next day, the after-effects of too much wine, but she felt surprisingly well-rested, and joined Gold and Gideon in the kitchen for a breakfast of scrambled eggs with bacon and lots of hot tea.

“I think I’ll go to the shop today,” said Gold, hands cradling his cup.  “I want to go through the china inventory and polish the silver.”

“Not the most exciting job,” she remarked.  “You sure you don’t want to just chill out here with us?”

His mouth flattened a little, his fingers shifting restlessly on the white china.

“I’m feeling - I don’t know,” he mused.  “Agitated isn’t quite the right word. I feel the need to do something.  Something that won’t take too much brain power.”

“You could always do me,” she suggested innocently, and he grinned.

“Oh, later, most definitely.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

He was still grinning, his eyes twinkling, and she felt her belly lurch.

“How about Gid and I walk into town with you?” she said.  “I could pick us up some coffee from Granny’s, bring it back to the shop.”

“Sounds good.”

The day was pleasant, fat white clouds spreading across the blue of the sky, and Belle inhaled deeply as they walked along, Gold with one hand resting at the small of her back, his other wielding the cane.  The pawn shop was cool and dark, and the stroller’s wheels sounded loud on the wooden floor as she pushed it into the back room. Gold bent to unfasten Gideon’s straps, and she went back through to the shop to open the blinds, letting thin shafts of sunlight fan out across the floor.  She flipped the sign to Open, grinning to herself as she remembered Emma and Neal’s interruption.  Perhaps she could turn the lock at some point later that day and finish what she had started.

Gideon was seated on the floor when she went through to the back, solid plastic shapes in a variety of bright colours scattered on the rug in front of him. Gold had set down a hollow ball with holes to take the shapes, but Gideon was ignoring it.

“Seems more interested in chewing them than putting them through the holes,” he remarked, and Belle grinned.

“He’ll get there.”

“Undoubtedly.”

He was holding something, an old toy rabbit with a faded blue felt waistcoat, soft brown faux fur with a cream chest and shiny black beads for eyes.  She had seen it on the shelves many times, and had always felt that it looked out of place in amongst the trinkets and china and old books. She had never asked about it before, and he had never seemed to pay it any attention beyond keeping it free of dust, which made her wonder what had changed.

“What’s that?” she asked, and he looked down at the toy rabbit in his hands, as though he couldn’t remember holding it.

“Oh,” he said vaguely.  “It - it belonged to my son.  To Bailey.”

Belle bit her lip, empathy making her want to hug him.

“You kept it all this time?” she asked sadly, and he sent her a wry smile.

“It was his favourite toy,” he said.  “His mother left it behind when she took him.  I used to lie awake at night, wondering if he could sleep without it.  A stupid thing - I’m sure he found another toy to hug.”

“It’s not stupid,” she said gently, and he sighed, turning the rabbit over and over in his hands, brown ears flopping as it moved.

“Can’t bring myself to throw it out,” he said.  “This is all I have left of him, you see. No pictures.  She took those, too.”

“What - what brought this on?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted.  “Perhaps - perhaps meeting Henry.  All that bright enthusiasm, the innocence of youth.  It makes me think of what I’ve missed. Perhaps Bae has his own children now, and I’ll never know them.”

He was looking wistful, his fingers clutching the brown plush body of the rabbit, and Belle took a step closer, running her hands up his back to his shoulders.  Gold let his head roll back with a sigh.

“Well, self-pity doesn’t help,” he said, almost to himself.  “My son barely knew me before he was gone, and it’s likely I’ll never see him again.  I have to accept that.”

He stepped away from her, setting the toy rabbit back on the shelf, cream-padded feet sticking out in front of it and ears flopping over its black-bead eyes.  His hand tightened over the cane as he stepped back, and Belle ran a hand over his arm, wanting to touch him, to send him reassurance.

“Did you speak to Dr Hopper?” she asked, and he turned to her, one brow lifting with a hint of surprise.

“Actually, yes,” he said.  “I have an initial appointment with him next week.”

“Maybe he can help,” she said, and he shrugged.

“It has to be better than doing nothing, doesn’t it?” he said, and slid an arm around her, pulling her a little closer.  “I also spoke to my lawyer. She wants us to go to Boston, to go through the paperwork for Gideon. I thought we might look at some properties while we’re there, if you like.”

Belle nodded, twining her arms around his neck.

“I’m looking forward to making a home with you,” she said, a little shyly, and he smiled, kissing her forehead.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said softly.  “Home is wherever you and Gideon are. It’ll be wonderful whether it’s here or in Boston.”

She kissed him, rising up on her toes before settling back, a wide smile on her face.

“I’m glad you like Neal and Emma and Henry,” she said.  “When we move to Boston I expect we’ll have them over for dinner a lot.”

“Yes,” he said.  “Yes, I’d like that.  I’m glad you’ve made such good friends.”

Belle hesitated, unsure whether to voice the stray thought that had been creeping around in her mind since the previous night.  Curiosity won out.

“You - you seemed to watch Neal a lot,” she ventured.  “Like - like you were puzzled by something.”

Gold glanced at her, a smile twisting his mouth a little, and he stepped out of her arms, grounding the cane.

“You noticed,” he said dryly.  “Not much gets past you, does it?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she said.  “But since you just admitted it, what was up?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, his jaw working a little, eyes flicking to the floor and back up.

“It’s the strangest thing,” he said slowly.  “It’s - it’s almost as though we’ve met before.  I’m certain that we haven’t, at least not to my knowledge, but it’s like there’s this thought just - just scratching away at the back of my mind and it won’t stop.”

“What do you think it means?” she asked, and he pulled a face.

“Maybe we have met, and I just don’t remember it,” he said.  “Perhaps he was in the house when I went to serve a tenant with an eviction notice, or perhaps he served me in a bloody restaurant, I don’t know.  What does he do for a living?”

“Accountancy clerk,” said Belle, and Gold shrugged.

“So maybe it was that.  I don’t know. I don’t suppose it matters.”  He leaned in to kiss her forehead again. “Did you say something about coffee?”

“Yeah.”  She smiled up at him.  “I’ll take Gideon and make a run to Granny’s.  We might be able to catch Emma before she goes.”

“Give them my best, if you do,” said Gold.  “And see if Mrs Lucas has any of those excellent ginger cookies, would you?”

“On it.”

The sky had clouded over when she left the shop, the summer day unusually cool and fresh, and Belle walked quickly as she pushed the stroller up the street.  The diner was busy, and she smiled as she saw Neal, Emma and Henry seated at one of the tables, with empty plates in front of them and a guidebook resting on the table top.

“Oh, I’m glad I caught you,” she said, parking the stroller.  “I’m on a coffee run.”

“Well, sit down and have one with us,” said Emma, pulling out the chair next to her.  “Long drive ahead, so it’s caffeine all around. Except Henry.”

“I’m having cocoa with cinnamon,” put in Henry.

“We’ve decided to head up the coast, see some of the country,” added Neal. “Maybe three days or so. Thought we might drop by on the way back, if that’s okay.”

“Great!” said Belle, beaming as she lifted Gideon up.  “That would just about tie in with us travelling to Boston.  We’re going to look for an apartment there.”

“You can stay with us!” said Henry eagerly, and Emma chuckled.

“Not unless they want to sleep three to a bed, kid.”

“Yeah, I think we’ll be getting a hotel,” said Belle, with a grin.  “We can have dinner though, Henry.”

“I wanna take Mr Gold to the aquarium.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Belle, amused, bouncing Gideon on her knee.  “We went for Gideon’s birthday, remember?”

“We went for Dad’s birthday,” corrected Henry, in a dry tone.  “He just pretended it was for Gideon.”

“Yeah, well, only a day in it,” said Neal, shrugging, and tapped Gideon’s nose with a finger, making him giggle. “You almost shared a birthday with your Uncle Neal, kid.  We were looking at double celebrations if you could have just held out for a little longer. Maybe matching T-shirts, or something.”

“There’s more excuses for cake this way,” said Henry, and Belle grinned, smiling up at the waitress as coffee was poured for her.

“Well, when Gideon turns two, we’ll be in Boston,” she said.  “So we can all celebrate together.”

“Are you and Mr Gold gonna get married?” asked Henry suddenly.  “You could have more babies together. I bet Gideon would like a brother.  I’d like a brother.”

Neal and Emma exchanged an amused look.

“Well, I don’t know,” said Belle, trying not to grin.  “We’ll have to see how things go.”

Henry grumbled something under his breath about ‘we’ll see’ meaning ‘never’, and opened up his storybook. Neal picked up his coffee cup.

“He’s a fan of true love,” he remarked.

“It’s sweet,” said Belle, in an undertone.  “And honestly, remembering how I felt just a few short weeks ago - optimism is a good thing.  I want things to work out.”

“Sometimes that’s half the battle,” said Emma, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah,” said Belle slowly.  “I don’t think it’s gonna be easy, especially knowing some of the stuff Alex has to work through, but he’s getting therapy for that, and I know he wants to try.  I know he wants to do his best for us, and I need that. I want Gideon to grow up as part of a happy family, which includes his father.”

“At least he’s trying,” agreed Neal.  “More than my mother ever did.”

“What do you remember about your mother?” asked Belle, and Neal wrinkled his nose.

“Dark hair, and pretty, I guess,” he said.  “Kind of intense. I remember the last conversation I had with her, when she left me with Social Services.  She said she wouldn’t be gone long, she just needed a break. Begging me to understand, while I just couldn’t stop crying.  Never saw her again.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Belle sadly, and he shrugged.

“Yeah.  Kind of tried to forget her as I got older,” he said.  “Took every step I could think of to cut her out of my life, to make myself into someone else.”

“Was that hard?” she asked, and he pulled a face.

“Some things were easier to let go of than others,” he said.  “I mean - Bailey Bonny? Not really me, you know?”

Belle blinked.

“Bailey Bonny?” she said curiously, and he sent her a wry smile.

“One benefit of hanging out with the wrong crowd was being able to get a new identity, no questions asked,” he said.  “I changed my name. Became someone else.”

“I didn’t know,” said Belle, surprised.

“Like I said.”  He took another sip of coffee.  “Tried to forget.”

“Right,” she said.  “So, your original surname was Bonny?”

Neal set down his cup, licking his lips.

“Well, my mother’s surname,” he said.  “She used to say she shared the name of a famous pirate - Ann Bonny - and that she called me Bailey after a sailor she met once.  Always did love the sea. Guess I thought it was cool as a little kid. When she left - well, I soon figured I needed my own name.  Milah Bonny was the woman who abandoned me. Didn’t need the constant reminder.”

“Milah.”  Belle’s heart began to thump hard in her chest.  “That’s - an unusual name.”

Neal shrugged, wrinkling his nose.

“I guess.”

“Was she - was she Scottish?”

He shook his head.

“English.  My dad was Scottish, though.  Or so she said.”

“Right.”  Belle’s hands tightened around her cup.  “And - and what do you know about him?”

“Not much,” he said wryly.  “They met in Glasgow. He worked a lot.  Too much, according to her. Never liked to have any fun, always the responsible one.  She made it sound like that was a bad thing. Where I got my brown eyes, too.”

“So - were you born over there, or over here?”

“Oh, I was born in northern England,” he said.  “Newcastle, would you believe? Although from what I can tell we moved around a lot in England and Scotland when I was a baby.  My mother said we came over here when I was like two, so I can’t say I remember anything of the old place. Living in the US is all I’ve ever known.  We were in Florida for awhile, I know that. Always moving, never settled. And then one day it was a trip to Social Services, and she was gone, and I was in the system.”

It was said lightly, as though he didn’t care, but Belle suspected it had affected him deeply.  Emma was chewing her lip, looking troubled, and Belle hesitated before speaking.

“So - you changed your name,” she said.  “And - and you don’t know your dad’s name?  Did you ever try to look for him?”

“Oh, sure!” he said immediately.  “Just as soon as I was old enough to realise what I needed to do and the kinds of questions I needed to ask.  Trouble was, I had no family other than my mother - and she never came back. So there was no one I could ask about my dad, and when I got my birth certificate there was no name on there, so…”  He shrugged. “Nothing. Don’t even know if the guy she told me about was really my dad.”

“Do you remember anything about him?” asked Belle, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Not really,” he admitted.  “Just - really vague sort of stuff.  Like memories of memories, if that makes sense.  Nothing solid. Nothing I could describe, anyway.”

“Right,” she said absently, and Emma drained her cup, setting it down.

“Come on guys, we’d better hit the road.”

Henry closed his book with a thump, and Belle stood up, bouncing Gideon in her arms.  Emma hugged her, and kissed Gideon’s head.

“We’ll call when we’re on the way back,” she said.

“Yeah, we’ll give you warning this time,” added Neal, with a grin.  “See if you can keep things PG in the shop, okay?”

Belle sent him a level look, and he grinned, hugging her and Gideon.

“Bye, Belle,” said Henry cheerfully, throwing his arms around her before picking up his book.

“Drive safely,” she called after them, and watched them leave, Neal’s arm resting around Henry’s shoulders.

Belle chewed her lip, thinking hard.  Coincidence.  It has to be coincidence.  It can’t be true, that would be crazy.  There must be hundreds of people called Milah.  With Scottish exes. Who took their sons away from their fathers around age two.

She shook her head, and set Gideon back in the stroller, making her way to the counter to order two takeout coffees and four stem ginger cookies.  Her mind was whirling, and she barely registered the coffees being set in front of her. The scent of the cookies in their brown paper bag brought her back to the present, and she paid, uttering thanks in an absent voice before turning back to the door.  She needed to talk to Gold.

She was chewing her lip thoughtfully as she walked, one hand on the stroller and the other carrying the cardboard tray with its coffee cups.  Gold appeared to spy her through the shop window, and strode quickly to the door, taking the coffees from her. Belle pushed the stroller through to the back room.

“Did you catch Emma?” he asked, and she bent to unbuckle Gideon, lifting him out to sit on the floor with his coloured blocks again.

“I did,” she said, straightening up.  “They’re heading up the coast. Coming back in a few days.  I said we could have dinner again before they head back to Boston.”

“Ah.”

He took a sip of coffee, wincing a little at the heat of it before setting it on his workbench, and Belle bent to retrieve the paper bag of cookies from the stroller.

“Tell me about your son,” she said.  “You said his name was Bailey. Did - did he have your last name?”

Gold gave her a wry smile.

“No.  Milah’s.  As I said, I was never named as his father.  Should have taken steps to change that, but alas…”

He shrugged resignedly, and she chewed her lower lip.

“So - what was her surname?”

“Bonny,” he said, and Belle swallowed.

“And - and you said you weren’t there when he was born,” she said.  “So was that in your hometown, or—”

“No, no, he was born in Newcastle, in the north of England,” said Gold, running a hand through his hair.  “I think she spent a year or so there, from what I remember her saying. Probably the longest she stayed anywhere.”

His tone was rueful.  Belle could feel her heart thudding in her chest.

“When was his birthday?” she asked.

“First of May,” he said immediately.

“The day after Gideon’s,” she said, under her breath.

“Yes,” he said, with a smile, and glanced at her.  “Why all the questions?”

She hesitated, but raised her chin.

“Because I think I might have found him.”

[hannahindie]

Breathe - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,200 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: Six months ago, Y/N runs into someone unexpected at the local bar while researching a case. For one night, she decides to forget and just try to be normal. Present day, Dean wants answers and Y/N isn’t sure how to explain herself. A/N: This is the fourth part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card series, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

It was beta’d by the ever fantastic and my writing soulmate @trexrambling: “ Don't we all. -happy sigh-”

My beautiful twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “oof...this would give me feelings to hear from the lips of Dean Winchester”

And my dear, sweet angel baby @masksandtruths: “Ughhhh. Yep I want to go cry in a corner now.”

Thanks to all three for helping a girl out so that her words make sense. I owe a lot to all of you.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

6 months earlier…

This bar is perfect. It's in the middle of nowhere, it's cheap, and so far not one person has tried to get my number or buy me a drink.

“Hey, sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?”

Never mind.

I take a deep breath then spin around to face the jackass that's ruining my perfect bar experience, “What makes you think-”

“Y/N?”

I should have recognized his voice, but I definitely recognize the green eyes sparkling in the dim light, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he realizes who he just tried to hit on.

“Dean?”

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” He looks like he’s trying to decide if he should do something, like give me a hug or a hearty pat on the arm, but ends up just jamming his hands into his pockets. I give him an awkward smile.

“Working a case, what about you?” I turn back to the bar and he slides onto the stool next to me.

“We just finished one, heard there might be something over this way so we figured we'd check it out before we went home.” He waves down the bartender and orders two more beers.

“I'm not even sure it is a case. Haven't been able to find much, I'm starting to think it's a thing for the locals to handle. I figure I'll do some more research in the morning, head out of it’s nothing.” I take a swig from my beer as he waves the bartender down. “We? Sam is here too?”

“Yea, he said he wanted to research and the bar would be too loud. The campus library is open late, so he's camping out there for the night.”

We fall silent, and I wish it didn't feel so awkward. There didn't used to be this...space. Now it feels like we are on two totally different tracks, speeding along next to each other but never actually crossing paths. Not even when we are sitting mere inches apart. I won't lie; the feeling sucks.

“It's been awhile. Why haven't you called?” I look over and he's fiddling with the label on his beer, pulling it off the bottle in tiny pieces like he's always done when he's nervous.

I shrug, “It’s been busy. Phones work two ways, you know.” I’ll just leave out the whole ‘cancer takes a lot of out of you’ part, and the bit where I shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with my pain medicine.

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat, “Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything...about Bobby, about what...what I said.” His voice is quiet, but the apology packs a punch. Dean isn’t usually one to apologize, at least not easily.

“You weren’t the only one that said shitty things, Dean. It’s not like I offered you a fresh glass of sweet tea and invited you to sit on the porch with me so we could talk about our feelings.”

He chuckles and I finish my beer, sliding it down the bar as I grab the one Dean just bought for me. “I guess that’s true.” He sighs, “What happened to us? We were...we were good, weren’t we? You, me, and Sammy...we were the best.”

I glance over and really look at him for the first time since he’s sat down. He looks tired, his face more haunted than it was the last time I saw him. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and, considering he’s a Winchester, that’s probably not too far from the truth. He’s still handsome though; age has been kind to him. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are more pronounced, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. I like it, other than it hides how strong his jawline is.

“You still are.”

He smiles sadly and shakes his head, “If you knew...I’m not the best, not anymore.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm and he looks up at me, “Life happened to us, Dean. And it’s not like one of the monsters that we can hunt down and destroy. Life sneaks up and picks and pulls you apart, and every once in awhile it gives you a little glimmer of hope, of what could be. If you’re lucky, the glimmer turns into something more, but for people like us...that’s all it is. A hope of what could be, not what’s going to happen. We save people, but we don’t save ourselves.”

I stare at my hand on his arm and remember what we used to be like; best friends, inseparable as soon as John put me in the backseat of the Impala. It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for Bobby’s death, but I had been angry and hurt. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one that lost their father that day, not until it was too late, anyway. “You are a good man who has given up everything so that others don’t have to. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to understand that before.”

Dean softly places his hand on top of mine and squeezes, “You’ve given up a lot, too.” He clears his throat and straightens up on the barstool, his hand moving from mine to his beer. “I think we need something a little stronger than beer. Still a whiskey girl?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” I respond with a smile, grateful that the familiar comfort I used to feel with Dean seems to have returned.

“D-do you remember that time we stole Bobby’s truck and went into town, I don’t even remember what we were lookin’ for, but we left and didn’t tell him?” I stumble slightly, and Dean catches my arm.

“How can you not remember what we were lookin’ for? You decided you wanted to go see Titanic, and you talked my stupid ass into it!”

I snort, “Pshtttt, you know you wanted to see some Kate Winslet boobies, don’t even pretend.”

“I had to pretend to be your brother so you could get in! Lemme just add that as much as I may have wanted to see Kate Winslet boobs, I by no means wanted to see them with you sitting next to me.”

“Listen, you loved that movie. I saw you cry.”

“Tha’s...tha’s bullshit. I don’t cry over chick flicks, ‘specially not when I’m with someone else in a public theater.” He gives his head an emphatic shake, as if that’s going to drive his point home.

“HA!” I stop and poke him in the chest, “You said ‘especially’, which means you’re not above doin’ it alone. Dean Winchester has feelings.”

“Oh, I had feelings, just wasn’t ‘bout the movie.”

“See! You have feelings, you just ad..mitt….wait, what?” My finger is still on his chest, and he smirks down at me.

“Y’heard me.” His eyes are sparkling, and the mischievous look he used to have when we were young is back. It makes him look like a kid again, and it’s enough to make me ignore how badly this could end. I forget that my decision has made this an impossibility, and I shift my hand so that it lays flat against his chest. He’s warm, God, he’s so warm and I can feel his heart beating against my palm.

“You had feelings?”

His hands land on my waist and he pulls me flush against him. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his proximity, but my face feels hot as I stare up at him. “I never said they stopped.”

“Oh,” I breathe out, his words fuzzy and sharp at the same time. “I...d’ya want...I mean, my hotel room is jus’-” I don’t get a chance to finish my question because his lips are on mine and it’s like my entire brain short circuits. I would be lying if I said I never wanted to find out what this felt like. I assume any woman that looks at Dean wonders what it would be like.

I can promise you, there are no words to describe how it feels.

I can try. I can tell you that his lips are soft, softer than I could have ever imagined. He smells like gun oil and leather, with a hint of whiskey from our time at the bar. It reminds me of home, of riding in the backs of cars and learning how to fight, and how to care for people. He’s warm, even through all his layers it's radiating from him like a heater, and I can’t help but let my hands roam across his chest and down to the small of his back.

He pulls back and laughs softly and I take a moment to catch my breath. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think this can continue in public.” He shifts, and I am made aware as to why we should probably vacate the busy sidewalk.

“Come on, I think I can remedy that.” I grab his hand and start walking down the street again.

“Where are we going?”

“My hotel room, duh.” He laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. For the first time in a long time, everything feels...normal.

I’m not dying. We aren’t fighting monsters and evil, and we aren’t saving the world. We’re drunk, and we’re letting ourselves feel what normal people get to feel. It might just be a beautiful lie that we’re telling ourselves for this one night, but I don’t care. Because for once...for once it can just be us, and I don’t have to remember that it’s going to be short lived.

We stop in front of my motel room and I drunkenly dig through my pocket, but it’s made difficult by Dean grabbing me by the waist and pressing me against the wall next to the door.

“Dean, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can’t…mmmm...I can’t get to my key.” His teeth graze my throat, right at my pulse, and I nearly melt. I can feel him smiling against me and I smack his arm. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” He pulls back and lets me finally pull the key free, watching in amusement as I fumble it into the lock. “Know what else I know?”

I look back at him as the door swings open, “What?”

“I’m damn lucky we decided to stop in Omaha.” He picks me up and carries me into the room, slamming the door shut behind us with his foot.

He isn't the only lucky one.

Now…

It's the beeping that gets me, the incessant dinging of machines, whirring sounds and footsteps, and the never ending barrage of announcements over the intercom system that finally pulls me out of what feels like a coma. Then the smell takes over; a suffocating cloud of cleaners and sanitizers that I only ever encounter in hospitals.

My eyes slowly open to see a blurry form sitting in the chair next to me, chin against his chest as he breathes slowly in and out, the cadence making it obvious he's asleep. Sunlight is creeping through the long, vertical blinds, and the television is turned to some daytime talk show rerun.

“Oh, you're awake!” I roll my head towards the door and see a smiling nurse walk through it and watch as she checks whatever machines I'm hooked to. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Sorry…” I don't know what else to say.

“Aww, honey, you don't need to be sorry. I'm just glad to see you're awake. I think he will be, too. He's refused to leave this entire time. Not even the threat of a security escort seemed to phase him.”

I look back over at Dean, who's shifted enough so that his head is tilted against the back of the chair, his mouth hanging open. “That sounds about right.” I struggle to sit up more, and she hurries over.

“Here, let me give you a hand. I'm going to call your doctor, she said she needs to have a little chat with you.” Her face falls slightly as she smooths out the blanket, then she clears her throat and suddenly the smile is back, “I'll be right back.”

“Wait…”

She turns to look at me, “Yes?”

“How long have I been out?”

Her smile disappears again and a crease appears between her brows, “Four days.” She disappears around the corner quickly as if she wants to avoid any other questions and I sigh. Four days.

I grab for the remote, but for a second it's like my hands forget how to do their job, like my brain isn't connected to them, so I juggle it for a second before it slips out of my hand and hits the floor with a crash. Dean jerks upright in his chair.

“What?! What the hell?” It takes a minute for his brain to register where he is and what made the noise, and I watch his eyes come into focus as he stares at me. “You're awake.”

“Yea…” I can feel tubing pressing against my nose and I reach up to pull it off. Dean leans over and puts his hand over mine, gently pushing my hand down to the bed.

“Leave it, they just got you stable enough to use that instead of a mask.” He leans back and watches me, but stays quiet. He looks like he’s thinking about what to say; I know he has a lot of questions, and I’m afraid of what he’ll ask first. I also wonder what he already knows, and how he’s managed to get in here and stay for such an extended amount of time.

“How’d you manage to not get kicked out?”

“Told ‘em we were married, that we were on our honeymoon.”

I would laugh, but I know it’s going to hurt. Judging by the look on his face, it probably isn’t wise anyway. “What about Sam?”

“Told ‘em he lives nearby and that we were visiting him. He’s getting coffee right now.” He crosses his arms, “It was a little harder to explain all the bruises, and why you were pumped full of painkillers before you got here. And the massive amount of blood you were coughing up, see that was the hardest one, because they just assume a husband would know his wife’s medical history.”

“Well, we aren’t actually married-”

“Nope, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and the look of betrayal on his face makes it incredibly hard to look him in the eye. “We are family, Y/N. I get that maybe I want more than that, and that you aren't ready for it. That's fine, but you are still my family. We are supposed to take care of each other. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and you lying about this...it could have gotten any of us killed. You realize this, right? I should have realized at the hotel something was wrong...I should know the difference between lipstick and blood.”

“Dean…”

“Listen, I’m not...I’m not angry. I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I just want to understand why you didn’t think you could trust me with this. Why did you not let us help you?”

“It’s difficult to explain-”

“Hello, Y/N.” I recognize the voice before I even turn to face whoever interrupted me.

“Hey, doc.”

She walks around to the end of the bed, clipboard in hand, and glances over at Dean, “This is your husband?” I swallow nervously; she knows I’m not married. It’s not been that long since I’ve seen her. The look in her eyes is a soft accusation, but when I nod in confirmation, she gives him a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you.” She looks down at the chart and when she looks back up, I can see it on her face. “I think you probably know what I’m going to tell you, but I’m guessing he’d like to know what’s going on, and I think you need to know exactly how bad this is.”

That’s the one thing about her that I like; she’s straightforward, no bullshit. She somehow knows that Dean has no idea what’s going on, and I’m simultaneously impressed and terrified. He was never supposed to know about this. I was going to go out hunter style, a blaze of bloody glory. I was alone. Why didn’t I just stay alone?

“Your cancer has spread. It’s no longer just in one lung and the lymph nodes on that side, it’s in both, which is why you began to cough up so much blood. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Your body is exhausted, and it’s starting to give up. Without treatment…” she trails off and looks at Dean, who looks like he’s about to be sick. “Even with treatment, it will simply be done to keep you comfortable, though it may prolong your life slightly. Without treatment, your time is very limited. I’m...I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but...I chose this. I knew what was going to happen.”

She nods, then gently pats my blanketed leg, “I’m going to go, give you some time to decide.” She looks at Dean one last time, then walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I drop my head back against the pillows and close my eyes. Shit.

“Cancer?” His voice is quiet, but rough with held back tears. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter; I can’t look at him.

“Dean, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Omaha...I didn’t…”

“What are you going to do?” I look at him sharply, but he’s looking down at his hands instead of me.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up, and his eyes are even brighter from the tears he’s fighting against. It hurts more than anything else he could even say. “Are you going to do treatment, or no?”

I swallow thickly, knowing he’s not going to like the answer. I don’t like the answer, but it’s for the best. “I’m tired, Dean. I’m tired and broken, and I can’t drag this out longer. I just can’t. I don’t want to waste away in some bed somewhere, knowing that I’m just putting off the inevitable. I want to go home...I want to spend time with you and Sam, I want to save as many people as I can before it’s over. I just...I wanna go home.”

He blinks, then rubs a palm roughly against his eyes as he stands up, “Okay, well, let’s bust you out of here then. I’m gonna go talk to the nurse. I’ll...I’ll be back to get you. If Sammy comes back while I’m gone, let him know where I went.” He walks out of the room without another word.

I lay back and close my eyes, and I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Read Part 5 HERE.

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[themanicdepressivelesbian]

It's honestly just surreal. Waking up in a different bed. Starting a whole new routine after mastering one. Your life gets flipped upside down, turned inside out. Change is an awful thing most of the time. But the best thing you can do I learned, is just pick up the pieces and move on. Dwelling too long on things can destroy you.

The hardest part about living with a mental illness is being and becoming destructive. Dealing with manic episodes, depressive episodes. Dissociation probably has to be the worst. Or maybe it's actually when you just can't feel literally anything. Actually, I take that back. Hurting those you care about is the worst. Being so capable of so many feelings and being so empathetic. When you hurt those you care about, you tend to hurt yourself just as much. This doesn't make it okay though. Nothing could. The thing about mental illnesses and destructive disorders, is you genuinely have to learn how to handle them. If you don't take the time to master the art of preventative care, then you're going to be in a constant downward spiral. You need to learn to pick and choose who needs to be in your life, keeping the good ones around; cutting loose those who have earned no right to be there. You need to prepare a supportive ring of positive people around you. People who are willing to help you change, and people who are ready to take on whatever it is you might throw at them. Depression, manic disorders, anxiety disorders, and personality disorders.. When you put then all together it's a ticking time bomb. One that rapidly heals itself and prepares to counter every decision you make. One minute you can be on top of the world and ready to take every challenge head on. The next though? You might have no way of knowing.

An important thing to do with mental illness is seek help. It might not get better with out help from those around you. And it's important to know that sometimes you will need help, or have to help yourself. So be careful who you build those walls around and between.

Communication with your disorder(s) is the hardest thing to accomplish, if you want me to be honest. Once you learn those little cues that tell you a shift is about to happen (this took me months to even get close to predicting, but I vividly remember the first time I predicted, reacted and prevented.) You need to be able to tell those around you. It's as simple as saying "hey, I feel an episode coming on, so I'm going to go do *insert distraction or self treatment to help yourself through it*." Or "hey, you know what? I'm not feeling well, I'm going to go lay down."

Sometimes self treating and preventing is as simple as meditating, or blasting a song that brings back good memories. Sometimes you might need to scream into a pillow or just burst into tears. And sometimes, you just need to be held, or surrounded by people who empower you. But it's important to learn how to prevent these things. It's also important to take responsibility for when your demons win the battle inside your mind. This is where your empathy plays a big part. If you're an empathetic person, it's a lot easier to hold yourself responsible for how you treat others. I've come a long way in terms of empathy. I've always been empathetic, but dissociation can make it hard to hold on to your empathetic quality. My biggest policy has also always been honesty is a necessity. Because it is. Little white lies, even as simple as saying you're fine, when you're not can destroy you. It can make people distance themselves from you and close up because they learn to distrust you, fear you. Or even think you distrust or fear them. Bottling up your feelings is another thing you need to toss aside. When you bottle them up, you burst. You don't get to control when that happens either. The last thing you should do is hurt those around you because you're hurting. It's so hard to master the ability to prevent it from happening.

Another extremely important thing to remember is that asking for or needing extra help does not make you weak. Not everyone can do this on their own. You aren't weak if you have to take a pill. You're sick, your body functions and works different than healthy people. Think of medication like a vitamin. Some people have calcium or iron deficiency, so what do they do? They Take vitamins, medications. Cancer patients get treatments such as chemotherapy. Your pills or therapist does not make you weak. In fact, it's the opposite. You made the decision to win this. To become bigger than yourself and the demons in your head. That's another thing. You need to choose help. Help does not always just fall into your lap.

The biggest complaint people like us have is that no one cares until it's too late. Five hundred people will come together to grieve over your loss, but no one will send you that text first or call to make sure you're okay. But think about that. That doesn't make them a bad person. How far and how well have you become at hiding your emotions? Wearing that fake smile and having that giggle and uplifting tone when you say you're fine. No one can read your mind. You need to choose to let people in. It's going to hurt at first, especially because you’re going to realize a lot of people may not be able to, or want to be there to help you. But that’s okay. That’s what I touched on earlier, those are the ones you need to cut out, or at the very least distance yourself from. Just remember to let people in, and not shut them out. It’s hard, it’s terrifying. But it is so damned worth it. You’re worth it.

Self love is another incredibly important thing. This also touches in line with getting rid of people who are toxic and have no place in your life. Self love is one of the hardest things to do for people like us. Our mind constantly poisons us with the thought that we aren’t worth it, we aren’t beautiful. Especially when and if you have scars. Self love can also be terrifying. Trying to change the view you have of yourself is oh so easy though. It seems difficult at first, but once you learn how to control your thoughts, your emotions.. God does it come easy. 

I hate to sound cliché because one of the lines people like me hate the most is when people tell you to get out and exercise or just go do something you enjoy. However, this is another thing that is so important. If you have any of the mental illnesses I do, your brain has an incredibly difficult time producing certain chemicals. Exercise can release endorphins that help you feel better. Medication can help you produce serotonin. Therapy can you understand yourself better. It doesn’t have to be professional therapy, it might be as much as discussing something with a close friend. Just remember, you are not their sole responsibility and they have themselves to look after as well. So you need to make sure you don’t rely solely on people who have their own stuff to deal with. Also remember that other peoples thoughts and lives can be just as difficult as yours is. So don’t be put down if they don’t respond right away, can’t help or don’t know what to say. Everyone’s life is different. You never know what someone might be going through. 

“None of us can make everyone better, all we can hope for is that we positively influence anyone who crosses our path.” 

Let that sink in for a moment. Especially if you’re new to self help, or any aspect of this. You yourself can be so hurt or put down by the littlest things, you know how terrible it feels. Why would you ever wish that on someone else? Or maybe you’re reading this because you know someone who struggles like I do, and in that case? You see how negatively people like me can be influenced by certain things. It might hurt you to see someone feel like I do. Yes, sometimes it’s over stupid things, and no you shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells. If you hurt someone over something you did not think would have that negative effect on by doing something, be empathetic. Sometimes all you have to say is “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would hurt you that way.” Words can go such a damned long way. So can taking responsibility for your words. Try to always be uplifting and positive. Some days that might seem impossible, but honestly? There is already so much negativity in this world. Don’t be another downer. You can only dig down so far until you hit the core and melt away, or you succumb to pressure. But lifting up? Some people say the sky is the limit. It’s not. Another thing to remember, no matter which side of this situation you are in, is that space is important. Some people need more than others. You need to learn to respect peoples boundaries and needs. This can be challenging at first, but the things that come the hardest are always worth the most. Challenges can be so rewarding. They may be difficult, but a lot of things are. 

Bottom line is remember to take care of yourself. Try your best to think about things before you do them. Stop letting the demons in your head control your thoughts. At the end of the day, you may need a lot of outside influence to get better. But YOU need to choose that path. 

Smile, let the sun shine. Even on your darkest days, the sun will still rise. Do not let your own life bring you down. In death, we remember everything we wanted to live for. So do not let yourself get to that deep dark pit. The journey is exhausting. But it is SO worth it. 

Be strong. Be uplifting. Become the things that this world needs to become a better place, especially for yourself. 

[hanzi83]

It is an interesting time for me in this season of the year and it scares me. It is often a mistake to give out the updates of your mental health, when you live in a world of vultures who want to destroy you and play with your mental illness like it is their toy. But I don’t wear my flaws as a badge of honor but rather as a shield to fend off people who are paid to fuck with people online or in real life. It is that time of the year where my depression reaches a darker level and because I never wanted to take it seriously and being a flawed and mentally ill person seemed to be cool because it leaves people talking and it is more interesting because of the train wreck feature that exists for people’s amusement so you tend to play to that more often and so much so that people think that is what you are and low and behold that is what you become, especially when someone such as myself had such an empty existence prior mentally and struggling with this mental illness and I thought I had it taken care of and never took it seriously because there is such a stigma with mental illness, even when we are preaching that people need to admit they have a problem, none of these spokespeople want to acknowledge what has helped cause this and that is where it becomes “You don’t want to take responsibility, you just want to blame others” and the common consensus is that the person complaining about people in charge or people at top they are deemed crazy and when something happens to them later, they will pat themselves on the back on how they tried to show compassion and they wished things would be better. That right there is a extreme mental illness in that.

You don’t know how many times I envision telling people off, people who tell me that their business is none of my business, yet they secretly have me monitored and are up to date with what I am doing and who I am talking to, and they have the audacity to question me on why I should know what is happening. When you become a part of the Stern show, you are pegged to have an interesting life. In my opinion, your life becomes chaotic and full of a false reality, and as the years have gone by it has become clearer this is a program I have been secretly enlisted to. I am so monitored, people in the system can only limit their conversation with me and play dumb about what is happening, but will still leave subtle hints that they want the best for me and refer to it as “We want what is best for you’ like I am some kind of pet project that a whole team has been recruited to experiment on. Even if things were revealed and I was magically vindicated for everything I have been through, seemingly, because officially it is my delusion of grandeur, as my friend would like to put it, and that anything I think is not a fact, it is just a stupid conspiracy, but even if I was somehow vindicated from all of this, I would not be able to recover. It has been too much. I was already a pussy to begin with.

I feel I have contributed more than what is lead on and have helped people in my life, beneath the surface, and if I wasn’t a valuable commodity to the people above, they wouldn’t let me be here. They have secretly exploited me and others and others have been beaten into submission so badly they can’t even talk about it because people will chastise them. It might come across like people who are just reacting, but with the internet it has become easier to become a target of people who possess a power and can harass you nonstop and with the narcissistic generation of needing the constant attention, especially for someone like me, who has no other use but being someone who became famous, when everyone now a days has become a famous or have connection with important people. I have been exploited mentally, and it makes it worse that others have profited off it secretly and still have the audacity to pretend they live regular lives.

And I feel the need to write this during this season to melt the anger away, but the lack of reaction will make me angrier, because I know people are aware of what I am doing and when I am writing. They won’t just see this when it is officially posted, it will be seen as I am typing it, because even when I type out my thoughts in this personal journal on my technology they move my cursor all over the place and make their presence known. I have gone to media outlets to talk about this and no one will touch it. These people won’t investigate it because they are all controlled, they know what kind of power Howard Stern has. Yeah he isn’t relevant in pop culture anymore, but make no mistake that someone like him has a lot of fucking power behind the scenes, enough to ruin people’s lives and play with their mental illness.

I am constantly being told I am being watched and that people are having meetings about me etc. Now you will say these people are just assholes making it up, and maybe they are right, but these people are still paid to put out that paranoia towards me. They feel no compassion. The scary part is this could be people I know, it could people in the industry, because these people are immature and with the secret groups that people have online in various amounts of forums, it becomes easier to spy on someone. It makes me think people in the system have a license to commit misconduct and are allowed to do illegal stuff and even if I contacted people in power, they would be bought off. People like me are experiments. No one will believe it and I should expect that, because I have misbehaved and said some of the most vile things because of my mental illness and just lashing out, so why would anyone believe me and the people who do, won’t do anything because they don’t have any power in this system, or if they do, they certainly don’t care enough.

They even withhold me seeing a therapist after pressuring me to see one. They are making it worse for me and making my condition worse. I have become immune to this stuff but every now and then I reflect if I am being played and are people pissing me off on purpose and then envisioning future arguments because people will try to take anything I have and people from my past do have vengeance on their mind because they will never get over me not reaching out and I can tell they can’t be trusted because they just lie to me about everything and try to downplay what they have gotten to do, and it makes me think if that is done because if something good happens, they will inject themselves into my business, after having the luxury of getting to do whatever they want and being able to go backstage at events while I have been mentally tortured.

It is just bad when I complain about this so openly because it makes me look entitled, when there were secret emails and messages exchanged as part of an agreement with others of what they get if they cosign something or they call into a show or help produce a segment etc, and I did those things without realizing there is value because once you are a part of the Stern world, you have some kind of value in the system but because they don’t explain the hidden rules, that officially don’t exist, you just think people who complain are entitled, when the system itself has been entitled by getting free content out of characters for their show and then leaving them with nothing but scraps while their pockets have been lined up nice and their elitist friends just laugh at these pieces of shits because we are the leeches of society, and not the ones who are so rich and luxurious who can do good things, but choose it to fuck with people’s mental health.

I am all over the place, but this is how scatter brained I am because I have these constant thoughts in my head constantly and I am having imaginary arguments with myself and how I would handle future events and how these people have used me to distract me. It feels good temporarily to be invited places, but when it isn’t being done for genuine reasons and being done to distract me from being in certain places, it hurts and it hurts  bad and by putting this out there, it will probably make it worse because these people can secretly still fuck with me and no one will believe me or will never want to believe me, because they don’t want to piss off people with real power, but if I dare complain about any of this, they will get their revenge on me.

It makes me wonder, especially during this season, why I am still alive on this planet. This thought is so redundant and tired, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it constantly. People will always want to get revenge on me and I will feel the need to become a darker person because that is how the world is and instead of becoming what I hate in this world, I would rather just die and be left alone. People will say I am being crazy for thinking that, but these same people want me to live so they can continuously lie to me about certain things and what connections they have. I am not as close with people I used to know and when I am around socially, I feel I have nothing to talk about. And “Remember when” is a lowest form of conversation, and that is what half of my conversation is like because I only have my memories with these people, and the last decade or so, I have just been in this basement while everyone else has gotten to do cool shit and they have to keep it from me. I just don’t see the point.

People tell me subtly that people need me here, and it makes it seem like there is no genuine care there, it is just because I bring some kind of value to this world, it makes everyone situation a little better, but I have to be the pariah that makes people sympathize with others who are the ones responsible for the way I am. It might not be official or acknowledged, but I haven’t just been some useless asshole in his mom’s basement. I didn’t sell my soul in 2011 and didn’t want to be a propaganda tool and be limited with what can be said, I didn’t want to be complicit in bad behavior, and assumed ALL of it was evil, even though there are elements of good,  and that is why the old guard is being baited out with these sex scandals and rape cases etc, if there was no good in the world, these things wouldn’t be exposed at all, even if the narratives are limited, but I didn’t want to be someone who lied about stuff at other people’s expense and knowing about future events that will take place and not being able to say anything, and it fucked with so much I basically threw it all away that the system had no choice but to just hype me up as someone who is a mentally ill pot head in his mom’s basement and I am so mentally ill, that people in the system who have it good, are pointing out and bullying mentally ill people. I am either a mentally ill person not to be taken seriously, or I am someone of importance when all these resources are being thrown together to fuck with my reality and fuck with my head.

I wonder what will need to happen for people in the media to actually investigate all of this, or be open minded to what could be happening. It feels like people sense something will go down because the trolling has been much more aggressive lately and these people don’t plan on stopping. They will bombard any platform I am on with their comments and admitting they are being paid to do this but no one takes it seriously because they can just say they are joking. It is sad because it is like they are pushing me to do something violent to someone else or me. It really disturbs me how evil people can be and seem so normal on the surface. They have their normal lives with a wife and kid; they don’t even talk to them for the most part, but give the illusion of a normal existence, when most of these people are communicating within secret groups to organize online attacks.

I need to get some of this off my chest because we are reaching a darker time in my mental illness, this is the beginning of when I am so much more prone to this dark behavior and it continues until March or so, but even as much as spring and summer should make you feel more joyous, it doesn’t feel that way for me, because this depression is all year round and it always starts from here and people I know or the trolls who are just Stern’s subservient assholes, will keep pounding on me mentally and they won’t be happy until I attempt something. They spread rumors about me, whether its me being dead, or being gay. They push that gay stuff on me, because they feel ashamed that they live in the closet, and that some of them had to do gay stuff behind the scenes, and because I expose that forced homoerotic type of ritualistic shit, they try to push it on me like I am hiding something. Instead of dealing with their own, they decided to marry in a straight marriage and then think it won’t fuck with them, because look at how much mentally ill stuff they are involved with to fuck with people.

It wouldn’t bother me nearly as much if these people weren’t paid to do this, and that their point system of what they receive behind the scenes relied upon getting a reaction from people. I react they win, I don’t react, it gives them more authority to beat me down even more mentally. I just want transparency and people to admit they are doing this. It is such cowardice if its people who are known or who actually know me personally do partake in this and then pretend they are nice people who would never do such thing. You want me to trust these people in the future? My own family and friends have disdain for me and it seems like they don’t even care about how much more mentally ill I will become.

I never know if I am invited because people genuinely want me out there and still repeat the same bullshit or is it to cover their bases for when something cool happens to me. I don’t want to be here and I will never have interest. I will never forgive them for making me the step child of this fucking world and that poor them for having to deal with me, and if that is the case they shouldn’t need me here. Come on you can kill me, you can do it subtly and no one would know because I live such an unhealthy life and I am also crazy. You people win regardless. Why do you need me here? I know they love to make you think life is random and that is to rid themselves of guilt of knowing this world is designed to be chaotic and be system sacrifices and that we really don’t have the power we think we do.

I didn’t break any ground in this blog but time to time I need to write it out instead of stuttering it out on periscope and I get quite grossed out by looking at my ugly face. I hope with me expressing it, it helps these people actually have a conscience but I don’t think these people have any kind of soul and they just want to harass you and because I point it out to get it off my chest, they will continue with their transparency plus secrecy and will know I can’t say anything because if I say something slight off, they will use my mental illness against me, anything to take away any of the blame on them because they are perfect human beings and everyone thinks they are the greatest friend and greatest humanitarian that has ever lived, and they get to have the connections to hang out with whoever they want. Then make it seem it is in my own head, and they wouldn’t have any of it if it weren’t for me, and since they know I am valuable to the system, they do me small favors to make it seem like they are being good out of the goodness of their heart, when they do it because they will use it against me. They have gotten to experience so much luxurious shit and they hide it because if I ever get a shot at it, they can intercept it with their bullshit.

I just want out of here. Even if these thoughts are invalid and I am just some delusional idiot who concocted all of this out of nowhere, why would you want someone like this existing? Why would you even want me around my nephews or my friends kids at all, I am a disturbed individual and obviously a bad person because I feel I have been so fucked mentally I am not allowed to do anything and if I am allowed to do anything, I have to have people accompany me places, especially comedy related. These people have already concocted and politic a planned fan base so it makes it seem like I need them. It is disturbing and it is like they are trying to get in on anything I do. I just want to be on my own. I work better on my own, I don’t like having to cater to what others want because they secretly want to fuck them, guy or girl.  I just want to be gone from here and if I have to live, let me go as far away as possible so I never have to interact with anyone. People in general don’t like me for real, they never will. I have to accept it and I have to remind myself, because there are moments of good times.

I wouldn’t want to be with any chick because I don’t want to put my mental illness on all of these women, or just a woman, I can’t imagine many women would want to be with this, unless I could do something for them, but it’s okay. It is for the best, I would wonder fucked up shit like who she fucked, does she have diseases etc, and it would drive me crazy. I am best on my own and as lonely and sad as it gets it is for the better, because I just think I am not a pleasant person and there are better people than me that should be alive instead of me. I am just a waste to this planet. I am not putting myself down for the sympathy, I just want to show you this is who I am when my mental illness kicks in and you people still want this person alive? Why? You get a kick out of someone being this fucked up that you can play with? Fuck you and anyone who has done this to another person and then blame them solely because you know that people will not believe that person. It is so fucking gross. I guess these independent media outlets who claim they aren’t like mainstream media are waiting for something to actually happen to me before they can start covering how I am the victim of gang stalking and how they enlist people who are mentally ill and are conspiracy type people into these programs to stalk and make their lives uncomfortable. No one feels bad about it whatsoever and people will get away with it scot free. It will take something fucked up to happen to me before it will get notice.

Howard can get away with anything, so much so, none of the industry types who have deemed him a feminist etc would speak up on the mentally ill shit he has done and what kind of fucked up things he will continue to do and then play dumb about it, and no one can even mention how he is really a Trump supporter and contributor because he had people fooled with being a Hilary supporter. He will go at Trump a little, but will not get as crazy as he did in the past with politics in general and now claims he doesn’t really have an opinion. It seems sketchy but he has even fooled his fan base with him being PC and that is why he is horrible human being now, that is how fucked the narrative is. Obviously this is hitting someone hard because as I type this, my cursor keeps moving around. I can’t prove it because I never know when they will do it or when they won’t do it. It is disturbing. I can’t even write my own thoughts in private without feeling like I am being watched.

Again it is probably all in my head and I am the sole reason any of this is happening, it is all randomness and I am just making excuses so never believe anything I have ever done. Forgive me to people who know me for all the conspiracy theorist shit i say and spew constantly, I am the one who is a nobody and think I am some important person in this world, I am just a delusional shit head and it is even more reason why you should just end me and you can be open about what you are doing, instead of just plotting behind the scenes to assure yourselves protection and keeping me out of commission 

[hellsbellssinclub]

Across the Stars. Part 15

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11/ Part 12/ Part 13/ Part 14/ Part 15/ Ao3

I left you guys on a cliffhanger for a month. I am so sorry for that. That was mean. This last month has been hectic but I will be going back to my once a week updates from now on.

Obi-Wan cried out in fear as the droid moved fast towards him. He scrambled back against the hard ground, scraping his palms and arms as he tried to get away; the pain barely registering in his terror.

The droid was fast, skittering closer and closer, no matter how much distance he tried to put between them. He could hear Donna’s frantic shout and The Doctor calling his name but that quickly disappeared under the panicked beatings of his heart that thudded loudly in his ears.

The droid was barely a centimetre away from his foot when it suddenly seemed to stop and crumble down on itself. A shadow fell over him and there was The Doctor standing over him, the sonic screwdriver he had used on their wristbands pointed at the droid.

“Obi-Wan!” Donna cried, rushing to his side and pulling him up off the ground. “Are you alright?!”

Obi-Wan gave a shaky nod and let himself be hugged by her. Oh Force, that was close. He just froze up and he almost let himself be hurt because of it.

“What the hell is that thing?” He asked, looking up at The Doctor. The older man was frowning at the droid in slight confusion.

“Well, by the looks of its design, I would say it Lumence Droid.” The Doctor said, tilting his head. “Though, this one has definitely been heavily modified.”

“Lu-mence?” Obi-Wan frowned. “Weren’t they apparently used for mind control?”

The Doctor looked down at Obi-Wan and grinned at him. “Yep. And they were all destroyed. But, there were rumours someone got their hands on a couple old prototypes before they were melted down.”

“Great.” Donna let go of Obi-Wan and glared down at the droid that was still frozen in a rearing position. “Mind control robots. Can’t we go anywhere without something like this happening?” She sighed.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and walked over to the droid and knelt down beside it. “This one is rather odd looking, if you ask me.”

“No one asked you, Doctor.” Donna said, walking cautiously up besides the man. Obi-Wan followed, rubbing the scraps on his hands and absently sending a small amount of healing energy to the wounds like he had been taught by his Masters.

“Why is it odd looking?” Obi-Wan asked. “From what I remember reading, this looks a standard Lumence droid.”

The Doctor gave Obi-Wan a large smile and gestured to the droid. “A standard Lumence droid does not have these.” He pointed at the very sharp and long needles. “Standard Lumence droids don’t bother with drugs when they take over you. They jump on your head and pierce your ears with these two legs.” The Doctor pointed to the two legs that were up in the air. “The legs carry the nanobots that take over the person’s brain.”

Donna looked slightly green at the explanation and Obi-Wan shivered. He was extremely thankful that The Doctor had stopped the droid (though he has no freaking idea how The Doctor managed it. Obi-Wan is so going to figure out how that sonic screwdriver thing works).

“Okay, so why drug people if you don’t need to drug them?” Donna asked, stepping away from the droid. “And seriously, what the hell is going on with this place? There are no people, food is rotting everywhere and those guards are really bloody creepy.”

Rubbing his chin, The Doctor gave a low hum and stood. “My guess is that we stumbled onto the front of some kind of people snatching operation. Or experimentations. Either way there were at least five other people who went into the park before us. Not to mention those two Twi’leks and their missing siblings.” The Doctor looked at them both. “We need to find these people and stop whatever is going on.”

Donna sighed and nodded while Obi-Wan bit his lip and looked at the droid. He was worried about what was going on. He knew from his classes that the nanobots can be destroyed without any ill effects and that the Lumence droids themselves can be destroyed simply by hitting them with a blunt object; but like The Doctor said. These were not standard Lumence droids. And they could be standing on the front of a huge underground operation.

What could the three of them do to help?

Obi-Wan looked up at his new guardians and clenched his jaw. “What are we going to do?” He asked, wishing quietly that he has his lightsaber with him. Training Saber or not, it was still strong enough to deflect blaster bolts and give some serious burns. It would have been comforting to have.

The Doctor clapped his hands and grinned. “Well, this little bugger will no doubt be connected to whoever or whatever is doing all of this.” He gave a sweeping gesture with his hand. “I say we use it to track down the source of all this.”

Obi-Wan gave a determined nod. That sounds like a good plan…. Except…

“How can we use it to track down the source?” He asked in confusion.

The Doctor merely pulled out the sonic screwdriver and smirked. Obi-Wan had a feeling that the damned screwdriver was going to make a continuous appearance on every adventure they go on.

(But seriously though, what in the Force was that thing? Because most sonic screwdrivers Obi-Wan was familiar with are mainly used when fixing hyperdrives that have unstable cores. He has never, ever heard of one that could one: disable trackers, two: literally freeze a droid somehow or three: somehow track down a control source from a droid?

Seriously, what the hell? He is so going to take that damned thing apart and figure it out.)

Obi-Wan looked at Donna who gave him an understanding look. At least someone seems to understand his confusion.

“Trust me on this, Obi-Wan.” Donna said as the three of them circled around the droid. “It is best to not ask how he is going to use that bloody thing to track the source. The headache is not worth it.”

“Hey!” The Doctor gave Donna an offended look and held the screwdriver to his chest. “This bloody thing has saved our lives so many times you know!”

“Yes, yes. It’s such a shame that it doesn’t work on wood though. It could have saved us a week of being locked in a dungeon because you insulted a queen!” Donna pulled a rather odd face and put her hands on her hips. Obi-Wan shook his head. His guardians were so strange and expressive. Their emotions rolled off them so easily and the emotions seemed to flow into the air around them.

It wasn’t overwhelming or suffocating. It was almost a comfort, like being back in the creche again with the other younglings.

“That wasn’t my fault!” The Doctor protested, giving an exaggerated pout as he waved the sonic screwdriver. “How was I supposed to know she was married?”

“Honestly! I can’t go anywhere with you.” Donna shook her head and rolled her eyes at Obi-Wan, a sly smile on her face. While the whole situation they were in was serious and no doubt dangerous, Obi-Wan could not help but relax slightly at the bickering that went over his head. It made him feel like they were in control of everything and that they were ready for everything that may come their way.

Even if logic was telling him that the three of them may be out of the depths and that they could possibly be about to face an unknown danger; Obi-Wan felt safe. If The Doctor and Donna can bicker at a time like this, if they could joke and talk about memories and be light hearted; then Obi-Wan knows that everything will be alright.

He was safe with The Doctor and Donna.

[1wngdngl]

Daily Reviews - Thor: Ragnarok

I finally mustered up the courage and saw “Thor: Ragnarok”, with my parents, aunt, and uncle.

I don’t know if I’ll sleep tonight.

The movie was just so intense. So many questions answered, so many questions raised, so much death, so much special effects, so much: “How do they say that with a straight face?!”, so much irreverent humor, so many times the movie turned to the fandom’s expectations and said, “Nope! This is how it happens!” The general tone is a bit lighter than the other Thor movies, more like “Guardians of the Galaxy”. (I wonder who directed it?)

It’s a very fun movie, and it will be seared on my brain forever, for good or ill. Sorry, but I’m spoiler-tagging the rest. 😉

(all stuff below is based on memory after one viewing, including quotes. So don’t expect 100% accuracy!)

Based on the previews and stuff, I’d been having a hard time figuring out the role of various characters like Hela, the Grandmaster, etc. and how they all tied in, and what order all the events happened in. But now I can provide a basic synopsis:

(First, you know how theatres play those little videos about ‘please turn off your phone before the movie’? They did one of those, but it was written so that Loki is watching Thor’s gladiatorial match, and Loki’s cell goes off, and Thor yells at him for ruining the moment. Why Loki would even have a cell phone, who knows... >.>)

The movie proper starts in media res, with Thor fighting Surtur (I thought that’s who that fiery demon guy in the promos was). Thor defeats him pretty easily and brings back the prize, Surtur’s helmet, to Asgard. It’s revealed that ever since his “vision” in “Age of Ultron” when Thor saw Asgard being destroyed, he’s been cruising the Nine Realms looking to vanquish any possible threats.

Anyway, Thor goes back to Asgard. Heimdall has been replaced as Gatekeeper by Skurge from the comics. I couldn’t recall what had happened to Heimdall at the end of “The Dark World”, but I guess he was banished or something. Thor’s friends seem to be free and well in “Ragnarok” though.

We get to finally see what Loki had been up to during his four years ruling Asgard as “Odin”. And apparently, he didn’t do a horrible job. The damage from the dark elves’ attack is cleaned up, everything is running smoothly. The craziest thing he’s done as Odin is have a giant statue of his ‘son’, Loki, commissioned. In fact, Odin goes so far as to deliver a sort of eulogy regarding Loki’s ‘sacrifice’ in “The Dark World”. And the eulogy is, it’s...I don’t even...

You know that scene in “The Dark World”, where Loki is seemingly dying on the sands of Svartalfheim, with Thor cradling him and murmuring: “It’s okay, it’s okay”?

That scene that showed that Loki was capable of doing something good at the last, a final moment of vulnerability in him, a moment of raw honesty between the brothers?

Of course, even “The Dark World” showed that Loki hadn’t really died, but the fans still debated whether the whole death was a ruse, or whether he simply survived when it wasn’t expected. Whether his ‘last words’ to Thor had been his true feelings.

Well, in Odin’s eulogy/memorial in “Ragnarok”, that ‘death scene’ is played on a big screen, in front of a huge crowd, with every moment exaggerated to comedic levels. Loki-on-the-screen easily confesses to everything he’s ever done (”Sorry for that thing with the Tesseract, and for trying to kill you, and being an incorrigible traitor.”), while Thor-on-the-screen easily forgives him (”Don’t worry about it! I know you didn’t mean any harm.”). When Loki-on-the-screen finally ‘dies’, Thor lets out a truly over-the-top, wailing, “Noooo!”.

Part of me wonders whether the scene was meant as a subtle “Take that” toward the fans that thought there might have been anything genuine in that ‘death scene’ (or about Loki in general).

Anyway, after the ‘video’, Loki-as-Odin gives a little speech that makes it sound as though Loki was a hero who conquered the dark elf menace single-handedly, all for the greater good. One line of “Odin’s” struck me, something like: “I never imagined when I took in that little blue icicle that he’d be the one to melt my heart.” Obviously it’s horribly cheesy and not something Odin would actually say, but it did hit me - that Loki here is casually admitting to where he had come from. Is that something that the Asgardians had even known about before? They don’t seem shocked by the line, so maybe word of Loki’s origins had gotten around after his initial “death” off the Bifrost, or after Loki had been brought back to Asgard as a prisoner.

Anyway, Thor arrives just in time to witness the ‘memorial service’. Loki doesn’t notice him at first, but when he does, he’s less than thrilled at Thor’s presence. I don’t know if it’s because he just doesn’t like Thor being around, or because the eulogy was not something Thor was meant to hear. Even if Odin could have had a way of knowing what had happened between Thor and Loki during the ‘death scene’, the fact is that Loki mis-represents that scene to make himself look better, something Odin would have had no reason to do.

So Thor gets suspicious, and he starts threatening “Odin” until Loki is forced to reveal himself, to the shock and horror of the Asgardians standing around. Thor forces Loki to come with him to Earth so they can find the real Odin and bring him back to Asgard. Now, I remember around the time of “The Dark World”, some interview had stated that Loki hadn’t actually killed Odin (though who knows why not, when it would have been simpler). Apparently, Loki stuck him in some retirement home on Earth, while also either putting him in a coma or removing his memories, I don’t remember which. Which is pretty horrible when you think of it, but Loki’s hatred of Odin shouldn’t really be a surprise at this point. (Why didn’t he just kill him, though?)

Well, Odin’s not at “Shady Acres” or wherever anymore, so the two go to Doctor Strange for help in finding him. And this is where that stinger from the “Doctor Strange” movie comes in, with Strange reluctantly agreeing to help if it gets Thor off the planet faster. We also get to see what Loki was up to while Thor and Strange had their conversation. I’d thought he was maybe waiting outside, or looking for Odin elsewhere, but instead: “I’ve been falling for thirty minutes.” Loki and Strange don’t get along at all in their brief interaction - Loki is indignant that a mere mortal dares call himself a sorcerer, while Strange treats Loki like a buffoon.

They find Odin in Norway or somewhere like that, but he’s not doing too well. Partly from age, partly from the still-raw pain of losing Frigga a few years earlier, partly from whatever spell Loki had used on him (about which Thor derisively commented, “Mother would be so proud”. Did Frigga actually teach Loki spells to manipulate thought/memory, or did he find that in a book somewhere?)

Odin is accepting toward his own pending death, but he’s worried about a forthcoming danger to the realms. As his last wish, he bids, “My sons, you must protect Asgard.” He says “My sons,” plural. As though he can’t even muster the energy to be angry at Loki’s treatment of him. Then he dies, and it’s a solemn moment, for a few seconds. Until Thor turns to Loki, enraged at his causing Odin’s death. Before a fight can break out, however, Hela appears.

[I’m really pleased that Odin got a proper send-off in this movie, when I wasn’t sure if he’d appear at all. You can tell he has a lasting legacy that affects the plot and the fates of the other characters.]

I’d known Hela was in this movie, and I wasn’t sure what kind of role it would be for her. I was happy to see that, despite her being shown as attractive and dangerous, she wasn’t dressed skimpily nor portrayed as a femme fatale who used her “womanly wiles” to get her way. She’s more just violent and power-hungry, and could kill everyone herself if it pleased her. She’s probably the only character in the movie (excepting maybe Odin), who’s portrayed completely dark and seriously.

Her backstory has been changed quite a bit from the myths and Marvel comics. In “Ragnarok” she is not related to Thanos in any way and is not his “mistress of death”. Nor is she shown to be Loki’s daughter or any other relation to him - she’s actually older than him. Rather, she is the sister of Thor and Odin’s firstborn child.

Apparently, back before Odin was the wise, peace-loving ruler Thor knew, Odin led many bloody wars against the other realms to place them under Asgard’s rule. Hela was his powerful heir, his sword arm against their opponents. But then Odin developed a change of heart, and decided to seek more peaceable relationships with the other realms. Hela didn’t want to give up the fight, so Odin eventually imprisoned her to keep the realms safe.

But now that Odin’s dead, the seal on Hela’s prison is broken, and she heads back to Asgard to claim her right of rulership there. Thor and Loki try to go after her, but due to some kind of wormhole/portal craziness, end up on the far end of the universe on the planet of Sakaar.

Thor wakes to find himself alone on a trash heap, and before he can fully orient himself, he is taken prisoner by a woman named...uh, what was her name? I think it’s Brunhilde, though I don’t know if they actually say it in the movie. Anyway, she’s basically like a slave trader, selling the ones she captures to the Grandmaster, who forces them to compete in his deadly games for fun and profit.

Thor is desperate to escape imprisonment and go back to Asgard at once to stop Hela’s reign. You see, she’s not the nicest ruler, and when the Asgardians refuse to accept her - apparently because she’s unstable and violent, and wants to lead them on a new bloody conquest of the universe - she starts killing people without discretion. That’s including the Warriors Three, which makes me sad :( . She even revives a bunch of people to be zombie warriors for her. That Skurge guy decides to ally with her, making her sort of fill the role of the Enchantress.

Hela takes a moment to explain to Skurge and the audience how she used to be esteemed by Odin until he became “soft”. This discussion takes place next to an interesting mural that depicts Odin’s interactions with the other realms. As an example of Odin’s “going soft”, Hela points at an illustration of Odin and Laufey making a treaty to end the Asgard-Jotunheim war. Hela acts as though she is familiar with this war and treaty, which means that Thor and Loki would have been young children when she was sealed away.

[Having Hela be related to Thor, having her be a relic of Odin’s dark past, really adds a lot to complicate Thor’s view of Asgard and his father. He never knew he had a sister, and now he has to kill her, poor guy. I wonder if Hela’s mother is meant to be Frigga? I don’t think the movie said.]

In order for Thor to get out of Sakaar, though, and get back to Asgard to stop Hela, he must survive his match against the Grandmaster’s reigning champion.

Meanwhile, Loki has also ended up on Sakaar, a few weeks before Thor somehow? He’s used that time to try to ingratiate himself to the Grandmaster, hoping it’ll help him make his way in this weird new world. He has a conversation with Thor via astral projection, reminding me of the convo between Loki and Frigga in “The Dark World”. It’s a good thing Loki isn’t physically present, because Thor might have punched him otherwise. He blames Loki for Odin’s death and the freeing of Hela. Regarding Thor being displaced as Odin’s true heir: “It hurts, doesn’t it?” Loki says. “Thinking you’re one thing and then finding out you’re not?” More tense words are exchanged, but then it’s time for Thor’s match in the arena. [sorry if I’m getting any events out of order!]

It turns out that Thor’s opponent is the Hulk. [Loki is watching the match from the balcony, and his reaction when the Hulk appears is, “I need to get off this planet. o.0″] At first Thor is happy to see his old buddy from the Avengers, his bash brother. But Hulk isn’t as receptive toward Thor. Turns out that Bruce was kidnapped along with the Quinjet right at the end of “Age of Ultron”, so he’s been stuck in Hulk form in the arena for the past two years, and doesn’t remember much from before that. So Thor is forced to fight him for real. He’s hampered a bit by his lack of Mjolnir, just using two short swords instead. Thor does show a brief display of being able to use electricity without Mjolnir, which confounds him. [spirit!Odin eventually explains that Thor had the power all along, and that Mjolnir was just a focus for that power.]

The match ends with both of them still alive, and they spend time afterward healing up, with Thor trying to get through to Banner. Eventually the two of them escape the arena complex together, and begin planning a way to get off the planet.

The Grandmaster isn’t happy about losing two of his strongest fighters, so he asks Loki (his newest ‘employee’) and Brunhilde to go retrieve them - for a hefty prize, of course. Brunhilde finds Thor first. She reveals that she’s had a change of heart and she wants to help him escape. You see, she used to be a Valkyrie - an elite female warrior of Asgard - but when all the rest of the Valkyrie were slaughtered by Hela, she fled, eventually ending up on Sakaar. She says she wants to regain some honor, and get revenge on Hela.

Thor, Hulk, and Brunhilde go and pick up Loki - whom Brunhilde had basically tied up in a closet - and then go to steal the Grandmaster’s spaceship and escape. But just as Thor is about to board, he stops, and suggests that Loki should stay on Sakaar. “We’re different people, and our paths diverged long ago. This world is lawless, chaotic - you’d fit in just fine here.” Plus there’s the fact that, now that Loki’s masquerading as Odin was revealed, the Asgardians might not be keen to welcome him back. Plus plus, going to Asgard means facing Hela, who will quite likely kill any who challenge her.

So it looks like Loki is going to stay on Sakaar, with Thor’s blessing - but then Loki reveals that he never actually gave up on capturing Thor. The prize money from that would set him up quite comfortably, he explains. I don’t know why this betrayal surprised me. It shouldn’t, it shouldn’t. But that’s the kind of duality Loki presents - you know you can’t trust him, he exudes an aura of suspiciousness; yet, like Thor in “The Dark World”, you wish you could trust him, to believe that you can make an ally of him, and benefit from his humor, and knowledge, and connections.

I’d claim that Loki’s constant betrayals show that he holds no loyalty to any other person and is acting out of simple self-interest, but many times his betrayals end up hurting himself in rather predictable ways. The way Thor treats it, it’s like Loki has a compulsion for betrayals, one which Loki and Thor are both aware of. Thor basically predicted that Loki would betray him in “Ragnarok”, and reacts with more disappointment than anger.

Even as he subdues Loki, Thor makes a simple but memorable observation: “Isn’t this all getting a little same-y? We team up, you betray me, I retaliate. Don’t you think there’s some room for change, for growth? I know you’ll always be the “God of Mischief” - but you could be something more.” Thor boards the ship and leaves Loki behind, and Thor and his two allies speed along toward Asgard.

Speaking of Asgard, Heimdall has come back from exile to try to help the Asgardians escape to another world via Bifrost. Hela isn’t too keen on that, though, and sends her zombie army to stop them. But then Thor arrives! He fights Hela’s army of undead, but Hela herself is too much for him. She even blinds one of his eyes!

Just then, however, Loki also arrives in another ship with some other escapees. I don’t remember the reasoning Loki gave for why he bothered to come back. Maybe he took to heart Thor’s challenge to do something brave, or at least unpredictable. While Heimdall hurries all the Asgardians onto the spaceship, Thor and the others try to figure out how to destroy Hela, who is clearly more powerful than any of them.

Eventually, Thor realizes that they will have to destroy Asgard with Hela on it, so she doesn’t escape to any of the other realms. The best way to do that is to summon Surtur - that demon Thor fought at the beginning of the movie - and doing that requires combining Surtur’s crown with the Eternal Flame that’s in the Vault.

Loki gets drafted to go activate this “Self-destruct” mechanism in the Vault (because they think he’s the fastest, or the best one at remaining unseen, who knows), while Thor and the others distract Hela. There’s a part where Loki runs right past the Tesseract in the Vault, before stopping to give it a long look. The scene cuts away then, but you just know he took it and put it in his dimensional pocket. After all, the Tesseract is one of the Infinity Gems, so it has to appear in the “Infinity War” movie. ;) (I wonder if he snagged any other relics while he was there, like the Casket of Ancient Winters, which I thought had fallen into the abyss when the Bifrost was destroyed?)

Anyway, Loki summons Surtur, who makes short work of Hela, before destroying the rest of Asgard. So in essence, Thor and Loki cause Ragnarok in order to defeat Hela.

The group of Asgardians that survived huddle together on the spaceship, their new home. Thor is now king of a new “Asgard”, one that is not a fixed world, but a migrant group of people. Loki, despite being at ground zero when Surtur was summoned, manages to escape onto the spaceship as well (maybe he used the Tesseract to make a quick getaway?).

In the stinger, Thor and Loki discuss where the ship should travel to next. Thor wants to visit Earth (maybe to set up a colony there?). But then some sort of other, gigantic spaceship appears right in front of them, looming menacingly… [Does Thanos have a spaceship?]

 Sorry for the longest summary ever. Here’s a few more general thoughts that didn’t go anywhere else:

Loki is like the butt-monkey of “Ragnarok”. Other characters share this role sometime, and Loki certainly provided comedic value in other movies, but in something like “The Dark World”, there was also a dangerous, angry aspect to him, and a thirst for revenge. In “Ragnarok”, he’s at the end of many jokes, loses most of his battles, and isn’t treated as a threat by anyone. Maybe spending four years as “Odin” without any battle practice made him get sloppy?

In “The Dark World”, Thor and Loki try for a bit to maintain a cool professional relationship (”We’re pursuing the same enemy, that’s all.”), before that attitude tumbles down. In “Ragnarok” they don’t even try to pretend at distance. They were brothers for a thousand years, and stored in their shared memory is every fight, every insult, every silly moment, every childhood fear, every catchphrase, every quirk and whim. The question in “Ragnarok” is whether they have any future together, or whether they’ve grown too far apart and should stay apart.

A couple of offhand comments mentioned that Loki once turned Thor into a frog, and himself into a snake (not at the same time, thankfully). In the first Thor movie, the most he seemed able to do was make duplicates. In “The Dark World” he can change his and Thor’s appearance using illusion magic, but that’s all it seemed to be – illusion with no substance. While saying he’s able to actually turn people into animals isn’t contradictory with past movies, it does make you wonder why this ability hasn’t shown up before. For instance, when he was fighting Kurse, why didn’t Loki just zap him and turn him into a mouse? Fanon can probably assist here. Maybe that sort of full transformation takes a lot of setup and isn’t suited for the battlefield. It might require the target to stand motionless for some time, or to be fed a special potion.

This movie seems to uphold the stance that “Loki doesn’t have children”. They made Hela be Odin’s child rather than his, the wolf Fenrir/Fenris was Hela’s familiar from before Loki was born. And I think Sleipnir has shown up during Odin’s battle against Jotunheim, so Loki couldn’t be his parent either. (Wonder what happened to Sleipnir – did he die when Asgard got destroyed?)

I don’t think Sif was in “Ragnarok” at all. Jane was mentioned briefly, with the comment that she had broken up with Thor. Maybe to make Thor available to pursue Brunhilde? I’m not so surprised Jane and Thor might not work out – they’re very different people, Thor has a much longer lifespan, he was always busy travelling the realms and couldn’t see her much. Too bad though, when much of “The Dark World” focused on keeping Jane safe, plus Thor gave up the throne then partly so he could be with Jane. Oh well, we’ll see what happens in the future.

I like that Bruce/the Hulk had a pretty big role in this movie, not just a cameo. There were loads of other callbacks to previous movies, quotes, music, etc., such that you’d need to see both other Thor movies and Avengers movies to get them all. Things like “A wise king must always be ready for war”, a song from the Thor I soundtrack, Odin’s Weapons Vault, Stan Lee making an appearance, Thor getting an eyepatch like Odin’s, Tony calling Thor “Pointbreak”, and so on.

One thing that struck me was how much fun Thor and Loki’s actors seemed to have in reprising their roles. I wonder what it was like for them filming together again after several years?

Now that I’ve finally seen Ragnarok, I can go back and start catching up on fanfic for it. I like fanfic. It fills in the gaps, provides explanation for confusing things, records your favorite quotes, and helps you make connections between movies.

Oh, and I should also check out that “Infinity War” trailer. Has the identity/location of the Soul Stone ever been revealed in the MCU? That’s the only Infinity Stone I can’t account for. >.>

I should also get a hold of the “Ragnarok: Prelude” book, to see if it helps explain anything further…

[houstonlocalus-blog]

Holistic Tips for Surviving Without Healthcare

  Good health is something all people strive for. But unfortunately, in today’s world, access to adequate healthcare to make said good health possible is often just out of reach. Even with Obamacare, which will perhaps not be along for very much longer if the Viagra-popping white walkers of the GOP get their way, premiums are still far too high. It goes without saying that the entire American healthcare system needs a massive reboot, but don’t hold your breath because that’s probably never going to happen. Maybe the best option for all of us is to just forgo traditional healthcare altogether and embrace the many natural medicines for better health that our dear flat earth offers us.

Not to mention, in the age of groundbreaking Internet publications like Goop, traditional healthcare is becoming so passé. Who needs to see a gynecologist when you can just store an energy realigning jade egg in your vagina? And who needs to see a psychiatrist when you can just realign your body’s energy frequency with wearable stickers that promote positivity and healing? Hell, who needs physical therapy when you can just wear a shirt with a positive affirmation on it?

It’s high time for all of us to say goodbye to the American healthcare system for good and embrace Hollywood’s trendy holistic approach to health maintenance. Forget Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders, it’s time to join the Kardashians!

Here are some tips for maintaining your health the NATURAL way, at least until your body is destroyed beyond repair in a geopolitical conflict brought on by the effects of climate change.

  A Crystal A Day Keeps the Doctor Away:

For thousands of years people have been using crystals, which work through resonance and vibrations, to treat all kinds of illnesses. Crystals work by helping release spiritual, physical and mental blockages that cause ailments like testicular cancer, dementia and ALS. Every crystal vibrates at its own frequency and has its own unique healing attributes, so why not forgo health insurance altogether and turn the rock and mineral show into your new pharmacy?

I’ve been using quartz crystals, which help clear the mind, to treat my Bipolar Disorder for years, and it’s been working miracles on my delicate psyche! All I do is lube up a quartz crystal with coconut oil every morning and shove it up my anus, where it stays for the remainder of the day (also helps treat IBS). It goes without saying that it’s super hard to have a mood swing when you’re focusing all of your mental and physical energy on clinching your butthole tight enough to prevent the crystal you have shoved up your ass from falling to the floor and shattering into a million little pieces (Note: Do not put it back in if this happens).

Do you have Sickle Cell Anemia? Have you tried treating it with bloodstone, which can be worn around your neck as an amulet, instead of dangerous and unnatural big pharma-produced medications? Bloodstone works by helping to purify your blood, which ensures that your life force remains strong and healthy. This crystal is also a powerful energizer, so even if it doesn’t end up curing your disease it will at least give you the strength and enthusiasm to power through it!

Before you start using crystals to treat the many ailments caused by your inability to access adequate healthcare, it’s important to read up on how to appropriately charge them under the light of the moon. Every time there is a full moon, I place my assortment of medicinal crystals and stones in a bath of organic almond milk and let the moon do its magic to them. If almond milk isn’t your thing, you can also let your crystals soak in a vat of menstrual blood (no vegan option) or artisanal, small-batch kombucha. I’ve also heard of people treating gonorrhea (and super gonorrhea) by slathering their crystals in their discharge and then setting them out to soak up the moon’s healthful beams.

  The Healing Power of Turmeric:

A host of scientific studies have shown that turmeric is just about one of the healthiest things you can put into your system, and that’s why I put turmeric in absolutely everything. And by everything, I mean everything — eye drops, bandaids, enemas, tampons, contact solution, etc. There is literally nothing that a turmeric and apple cider vinegar cocktail cannot fix. Have makeup-induced acne? Try making a foundation out of turmeric and equal parts LaCroix (coconut flavor works best). Not only will you say goodbye to your acne, but you’ll get a healthy, sun-kissed glow to your skin that even Donald Trump will be jealous of. Want to take off that makeup at the end of the day (before inserting your favorite crystal into your butt for some deep REM sleep)? Just make your own makeup remover with equal parts rubbing alcohol and turmeric.

Turmeric can also be used for an amazing full-body cleanse to help with weight maintenance. I’ve only consumed turmeric mixed with natural spring water for the past two months and I’ve lost an astonishing 40 pounds. It works, believe me! I’m so skinny and waif-like now that the only clothes in my closet that I can still wear are my ohm-sign-printed drawstring yoga pants and a t-shirt I stole from an American Girl doll.

Turmeric, as a spice, can also be mixed with any type of food you can imagine. Getting bored with the strawberry chia pudding you eat for breakfast every morning? Try mixing a couple of tablespoons of turmeric into it. Are you totally over the orange and mango smoothie you drink every day at noon for a quick pick-me-up? Try throwing a cup of turmeric into and you’ll never want to miss a day without it again.

Turmeric is the Mother Teresa of spices — albeit without the coerced deathbed conversions — and absolutely everyone could use a bit more of it in their life.

  Coconut Oil For Every Ailment:

I remember watching the presidential election results trickle in on election day last November and wondering the whole time why liberals hadn’t gone out en masse the night before and rubbed coconut oil all over the damn polling stations. Coconut oil fixes everything! But they didn’t do that, hence we’re still here today with a shitty healthcare system and an increase in people being diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

Coconut oil can be used to treat a variety of ailments, including arthritis and diabetes. If you’re a diabetic, or know someone who is, you probably know that insulin is ridiculously expensive. One cost-saving measure is to cut your insulin with melted coconut oil. Not only will doing so allow you to stretch out your insulin supply, it will also give your pancreas a healthy glow (although you won’t be able to see it because it’s deep inside your body).

Everyone knows about the benefits of oil pulling, but have you tried oil pulling with your butt? I have, and it’s made my butthole much more pink and supple. All you do is douche with some melted coconut oil and then jump around your house for 20 minutes while trying to hold it in. It’s best to start with five minute sessions at the beginning, then start gradually increasing your hold time as your sphincter muscles start to bulk up.

Coconut oil can also be used to treat just about any skin condition under the sun. I suffer from eczema from time to time and treat it by coating my entire body in coconut oil then wrapping myself like a mummy in strips of hemp cloth. And hey, if it’s Halloween no one will even know why you’re doing it!

  The Ancient Art Of Smudging:

Everyone knows that smudging with sage is one of the best ways to rid your home of evil spirits and negative energy, but did you know you can use the method to treat your body as well? Inhaling massive quantities of sage smoke has actually been proven to help treat a variety of respiratory illnesses, including asthma and bronchitis.

And guess what? Sage smoke can also be used to help you quit smoking cigarettes. It actually works! Instead of smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, I now just clambake under a hemp blanket with a burning sprig of sage every day for a couple of hours. Not only is this great for your lungs, it also helps you rid yourself of addictive behavior. And according to an article I read in an online anti-vaxxer publication, this is also one of the best way to cure small pox in small children.

Not convinced? You can’t knock it until you try it yourself!

  Nature Is the Best Medicine:

Nature truly is the best medicine. Everyone struggles with depression from time to time, but people often don’t realize that deep, spiraling depression can actually be cured by just walking in a park for about 20 minutes a day. Who want’s to feel sad when there are so many flowers to pick and squirrels to become friends with? Squirrels are so silly and cute to watch! Not to mention, it’s been scientifically proven that looking at trees for at least 10 minutes a day can help rebalance the serotonin levels in your brain. Are you in need of knee replacement surgery? Have you tried just going on a brisk jog every day by a picturesque lake? Have arthritis in your hands? Maybe you should just try painting landscapes every day in a natural forest for a week or so. I’m positive that will fix the problem!

We live in such a big and beautiful world, and it’s a damn shame that sick and housebound people don’t go outside more often to smell the roses. The whole earth is basically a giant Bob Ross painting, so why not go out and explore it more. It’s good for you!

    DISCLAIMER:  This is a satirical article. That being so, please do not attempt any of the actions listed in it. 

Holistic Tips for Surviving Without Healthcare this is a repost