#it's on my birthday this year !! so looking forward to. birthday trauma among other things

[yxkanna]

hey so uhh any international moots wanna house me when we inevitably start civil war 2 electric boogaloo

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Hey people I love 🫀

I can't believe how sweet you all are, I think this is more birthday wishes than I've had in... years if ever. I've been scared of today after everything but you're making it beautiful so far. You don't know how thankful I am.

I know the day is going to be rough, I'd mostly just wanted to rest but my dad invited my sister and her husband over. (I have some trauma with them that would take far too long to explain but I'll leave it at them being the kind of bullies that make 'jokes' about me and situations from my past I have PTSD over and then tell me I'm too sensitive when I ask them not to. Among other things they've done 🙄) So I have to deal with that tonight. My parents love any excuse to have them over and they need to borrow money from my dad I guess so they needed to come over anyway. It's hard knowing my birthday has been reduced to a night for them but ah well. He sprung that on me last night and when I didn't know what food I wanted (if you know me at all you know I struggle with food severely) so he suggested something he knows 'everyone' likes- meaning them because I can't really eat what was mentioned (health reasons).

That's alright though because I know it makes my parents happy to have them over. I just hope I can handle the 'teasing' on top of everything else... At some point I'll get myself a cake I actually like though. I can celebrate myself at a time when they don't need something. It's amusing too because I haven't been able to figure out what I want from my parents so the only exchange of anything tonight will be them getting money on my birthday 🤣 It's comical how this shit works out. Honestly. I should be rocking Alanis Morissette right now.

I don't mean to complain or sound ungrateful, I just find it interesting my sister told me they can't do anything until later in the month the other day but now they need money and suddenly they can. I'm not upset, I'm glad my parents can have a good night and they'll all enjoy dinner, I guess I'm just tired.

But all this was just to say I wasn't looking forward to today, for obvious reasons I'm a little down but all of you have been so sweet and really cheered me up, thank you 🖤 I don't deserve you all. I love you! 🩷

[hualianff]

Distant Faces

The Lonely (Instrumental) – Christina Perri

After much deliberation, HC finally decides what to give XL on his birthday: a painted portrait of XL and his parents during Xianle’s most prosperous days. Even though HC tries his best not to remember his life during those times, he knows XL loved his parents despite how everything turned out. 

It’s been over 800 years, after all. 

XL had offhandedly mentioned he can’t even remember the details of his parents’ faces anymore. The way his mother’s eyes shone chocolate brown in the sunlight; the way his father scowled in disapproval but never in a malicious manner. The way his mother held him when he felt sad, let him cry on her shoulder. The way his father looked proudly upon XL as his son.

Admittedly, XL had a complex relationship with his father. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, especially towards Xianle’s inevitable deterioration. XL can cry because he misses his mother, but with his father, it’s more than that.

It’s regret.

It’s shame.

It’s anguish for the tension that kept his father at a distance that now seems insignificant.

But being the kind of person XL is, he’d rather remember the positive aspects of his relationship with his parents than the hardships.

Especially because he feels like he failed them in the end.

HC cannot relate to XL’s experience of having loving parents who genuinely cared for him, much less the loss of such parents. An abandoned child like himself had to bear the burden of living from a young age. HC did not grow up nurtured or fawned over; HC endured his cruel existence by looking after himself. 

After meeting XL again after his third ascension, HC now knows what it’s like to be loved–fiercely and unconditionally. To imagine losing XL gives HC a palpable semblance of what XL felt when he woke up completely alone on the day his parents passed. Over the decades, XL has briefly talked about that day, though never in full detail. Partially because XL’s mind has blocked out the trauma, but it is also simply too painful to remember.

Originally, HC heavily debated whether gifting his husband the portrait was even a good idea. The last thing he would want to do is upset or offend XL. HC wasn’t even sure he could properly replicate the king and queen’s faces.

Ultimately, HC decided to go through with his plan. He hopes that if anything, this painting can help XL recall his parents’ faces and the fond memories he had with them. Perhaps it could serve as an outlet for healing from the years XL suffered on his own. Everything HC does is for the happiness of his husband.  

After going through one of his earliest memories via his butterflies, HC spent days sketching, outlining, and painting the portrait. He miraculously managed to portray the details as accurately as possible—MQ and FX themselves confirmed. The two heavenly officials failed to hide their teary eyes, MQ abruptly turning away while FX furiously rubbed at his cheeks. It’s one of the few instances HC holds his tongue when around the two martial gods.

There is no shortage of people who celebrate XL’s birthday when it arrives—heavenly officials, Ghost City, and worshippers alike. HC spends the entire day by his husband’s side, visiting as many festivals to witness the joyous ceremonies. Worshippers place extra lavish offerings on their altars while XL’s friends personally deliver their gifts at Puqi Shrine. (The designated location for heavenly officials.)

Once it’s evening and the festivities have calmed down, only two remain inside Puqi Shrine. HC has taken the liberty to cook a quick meal for them to share. He ladles soup into XL’s bowl, then scoops rice topped with fried fish onto his plate. 

“Thank you for making us dinner, San Lang. It looks delicious,” XL says, eyes sparkling. HC smiles warmly.

“I would be a fool to not spoil Gege with wonderful food, regardless if it’s his birthday or not,” HC solemnly says. “Though I do hope he enjoys the fish and soup.”

“There are no doubts about that,” XL replies before eagerly spooning some broth into his mouth. His eyes visibly widen as he sputters a bit, spoon lowering back into the bowl. “Oh, that’s hot!”

“Careful, gege. Allow this dutiful husband to blow on it.”

They finish eating with satisfied slurps and chewing, keeping casual conversation between bites. Before XL can get up to clear off the table, HC snaps his fingers, every dish already washed and placed back in the cabinets. 

They are finally alone, energy spent and stomachs no longer empty. HC’s eyes shift to the corner of the room where a covered, flat object is propped against the wall. 

“Gege, I have one last present for you.”

“That’s been here this whole time? Wow, it’s so big!”

HC doubts himself even as he hands over the wrapped gift. He watches with bated breath as XL carefully works open the covering with nimble fingers to reveal what’s inside.

Once XL sees the entire painting in all its glory, his hand flies over his mouth. His initial excited smile upon tearing away the wrapping paper is replaced with a tense frown, the type when someone is trying their best not to cry. 

A ragged sob escapes his lips.

XL can’t stop staring at their faces—his parents’ faces—who he hasn’t seen in centuries. Who he never got to say goodbye to. He touches the canvas, paints dried and glossed over with a finishing product that gives the image a sleek sheen. He touches their familiar faces, pleasant smiles etched onto their lips, and then his own, placed between his father and mother, smiling widely: happy.

XL hugs the canvas to his body, closing his eyes, and cries his heart out.

HC’s heart shatters at the sight of XL breaking down, though it was almost a guaranteed reaction. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward to embrace his beloved from behind, nuzzling against XL’s temple as his smaller body trembles uncontrollably. But before HC can express his pitiful apology, he hears quiet, repetitive mumbling among XL’s broken sobs.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Gege-”

“Thank you.”

“-breathe, my love.”

“Thank you.”

Over and over again. Nearly nonsensical through ragged chokes and desperate gasps for air. HC shakes his head as tears wet his own cheeks, as if to say a thank you was not needed. He rubs up and down XL’s arm, occasionally pausing to massage his neck, anything to comfort him in his sorrow. XL suddenly grasps onto HC’s wrist, an anchor from the barrage of overwhelming emotions washed over him over the last few minutes.

HC eventually rasps out a remorseful, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what for exactly. For triggering XL’s tears. For the death of XL’s parents. For the loneliness and grief XL has experienced and never had the proper closure to.

XL continues weeping without a sound. For the fear of ruining the portrait with his tears, XL carefully places the painting on the table. He gives the painting one last lookover, lower lip wobbling. XL bites his lip to suppress the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat. 

How could he ever forgive himself?

“Me too,” a son whispers to his parents. 

Half an hour later, XL and HC are situated in their bed at Paradise Manor. Per XL’s request, HC skillfully hung the painting up next to their wedding portrait. Two pieces juxtapose two different eras; one, a window to the past; the other, a relic that will remain timeless.

Someday in the future, XL will have the strength to commemorate his parents with more than just a fleeting prayer. He will describe them with words and stories that do them justice. He will honor their legacy not by following in their footsteps (for they have long disappeared against the force of time), but by practicing the values they bestowed upon him while simultaneously learning from their faults and mistakes.

However, for tonight, HC wraps XL in a snug blanket burrito, holding XL from behind as the former prince mourns in silence. HC doesn’t push his beloved. He merely squeezes XL’s hand to remind him he has someone to listen to him. The last thing XL requests before falling asleep is another portrait of his parents, this time with both him and HC sat in the middle. 

“Father...Mother...if you could see me now...see how happy I am,” XL tiredly thinks, sleep beckoning him to surrender to the darkness. “You guys really...would have loved him.”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi and @iaintnosidekick for listening/helping)

(Inspiration)

[the-starryknight]

Today’s @thesleepiesthufflepuff‘s birthday, so to celebrate this lovely person, I’d like to share five of my favorite Bluefay fics.  Each of Fay’s fics have this soft, romantic feeling to them that leave me with a warm heart after each read.  I hope you’ll enjoy some of these wonderful fics and pieces of art!

🧶 The Way We Wind  { Drarry | E | 2020 | 47k }

After the war, Harry’s life falls to shambles. Each day revolves around an intense battle with his mental health, and there’s nothing that Ron or Hermione can do to help him. That is, until Hermione teaches Harry how to knit. Fast forward five years, and Harry is the proud owner of a renowned knitting shop in Diagon Alley, The Whomping Willow Woolery. Christmas season is upon him, and the shop is busier than ever. So, is it really a surprise that Draco Malfoy wanders in looking for a gift for his mother? Cue awkward meetings, fluffy knitting lessons, a truly horrible scarf, a cat named Stockinette who is readily obsessed with Draco, and falling in love with one’s worst enemy.

TWWW is a soft, lovely, and romantic fic that is all about healing and falling in love.  As Draco begins to heal and learn to knit, he finds so much joy and care in Harry’s shop and among his friends.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione have honest and direct conversations about mental health that feel genuine and beautiful.  Plus: a small kitten and all the plush knitwear you can imagine. You’ll fall in love too as you read along. 

🚗 Through the Night { Linny | T | 2021 | 3k }

Ginny tells herself that she's content with the way things are. Luna proves her otherwise.

Luna was softly humming along, and Ginny drank in the sound, not wanting the moment to end. If it was up to her, they would drive through the night, not stopping until they reached the edge of the world.

This fic feels so gentle.  Ginny is playing with the Holyhead Harpies, the loud and boisterous world of Quidditch and Luna is off doing her peaceful thing on her own on the edges of town. This is a delicate and at times painful telling of past trauma and how we can find love and beauty even as we keep going through it.  

💐 Nothing More Than That { Drarry | G | 2021 | 1k }

Harry goes to a florist on New Year’s Day to buy a bouquet for Molly. He leaves with an unexpected date.

“Nothing more than that” is exactly what Harry wants.  This lovely slice of life/getting together ficlet brings a smile to my face every time I reread it.  Fay has created a lovely little florist shop, and in it is the handsome florist Draco Malfoy and the tentative customer Harry.  Happy New Years to us, indeed, and may 2021 have some of the cheer this fic brings.

🧵 Long Tale Cast On { Wolfstar | T | 2019 | 25k }

When Sirius and Lily decide to start a craft night in the yarn store in an effort to draw in a younger crowd, they look to the bar across the street to provide refreshments. Sirius is taken with bar owner Remus from the start, but neither James nor Lily's encouragement is enough to bridge the chronic pain and anxiety that conspire to keep them apart. With time, effort, and some terrible knitting, Sirius and Remus eventually find that life has a strange way of working out.

"The thing you need to understand about Sirius is that he's very worried about making mistakes, about getting things wrong. When he's talking about knitting he's confident in his skills, so it comes easily. When he's talking to people about other things, especially with people that matter to him." Here she taps Remus' arm just lightly again. "His fear gets the better of him."

Queer joy, found family, and deep love are key to Long Tale Cast On.  With a dear Sirius who is effusive and anxious and incredibly kind and a Remus who is funny and charming, and Lily who is so loving, and Dorcas and Marlene (yes, Dorlene!!)... This fic is one that will make you fall in love with Wolfstar all over, and with what it means to care for one another even with all the hard stuff.  An iconic Bluefay fic!

📚 H. J. Granger’s Book Emporium  { Hermione | G | 2021 | Art }

Hermione buys a bookshop after the war.

As though Fay wasn’t already impressive enough with her writing, she has also offered us this lovely illustration.  Featuring a big and well-loved Crookshanks, a joyful Hermione, and the AU I didn’t know I needed, this piece is one that will certainly make you smile.  

[not-poignant]

hello! *peruses unasked flower asks* ummm, if you could give me a Canna, Cock’s Comb ehheeh, Common Boneset, Norwegian Angelica and Rosemallows please! :)

(Okay I love that little eheh at cock's comb tho)

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

*

I do! A giant 'RESIST' in capital letters down the inside of my right wrist, that I actually got long before any actual 'resist' movements over the past few years. I got it around my 21st birthday (actually like a year later) mostly to mark all the things that I'd already survived at that point, and how much of my life philosophy is based off a position of resistance - resisting wanting to kill myself, resisting the darkest paths, resisting my own body when it grows tumours, and so on.

As it's aged, its lost some of it's sharp corners and stuff, but I still like it, though I mostly forget its there now. I'd like to get more tattoos at some point, but money is a big barrier, they're not cheap! (Which is good, because hopefully it means tattoo artists are being paid well).

*

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

*

I don't really know. I use Times New Roman the most while writing (I know, I know), so I guess that's my favourite because I'm voluntarily staring at it for hours and hours every single day. I hate Calibri and often have to force-change documents to another font to be able to edit them, if they come to me in that font. But I also used to write in Calibri, until I had the revelation that I hated writing in Calibri, lmao.

When I was a teenager, and had far less fonts to choose from, I was a passionate fan of Courier New and that's still my favourite font to set poetry in, which I think is an 'old habits die rather hard' thing, lmao.

*

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

*

I'm looking forward to thunderstorms, whenever they next come.

I'm looking forward to going down south with my mother, though I'm apprehensive about it too, and hope it goes well. I expect it will be exhausting, and an experience, and worthwhile. That's the end of July.

I'm looking forward to a week to myself and I'm not sure when I'll get one.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow (at least right now).

I'm looking forward to the next time we go to Kumo and have more of those Japanese souffle pancakes because souffle pancakes.

I'm looking forward to going to bed tonight.

*

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

*

I've always had...an interesting relationship with my mother. Though it's very good now. But there are lots of long stories I'm going to cut short here and say that around 11 or 12 years ago I was fed up, and sent Mum a lengthy email (because I couldn't trust I'd be able to speak clearly in person without breaking down and crying) saying that if she didn't get on board with acknowledging the PTSD and where it came from, and didn't confront her own demons in that, I was going to walk away from her and our relationship for good, and I already had my estranged relationship with my father to prove that I wasn't bluffing.

In retrospect, this probably sounds like an incredibly cruel thing to do, but I can't describe to you the years before that, my childhood, the things that led to me making this decision. Only that when I made it, I didn't know what else to do.

But then the most amazing thing happened, and unlike about anyone else in my family at the time, Mum got therapy, and she got help, and she faced her demons, and she decided that she was going to learn about her child instead of doing what she'd been doing in the past. And from there we grew a real relationship. And quite a few years ago now, we started catching up once a week, every (usually) Friday morning.

She's one of my best friends now, I love her to pieces, her bravery and courage in being willing to face up to some hard truths (including - among others - that my father and her husband was abusive), as well as her sheer strength recently going through breast cancer with such humour and grace only a short period after I went through my own cancer journey, like, she's such a role model to me.

I could never have expected that. I loved my Mum growing up, but I never felt like she knew or saw me as a person, which I don't actually blame her for, she sure was Going Through It herself, in a way that I could not appreciate fully as a child, because she protected us from those realities that she experienced and suffered through as best as she could. And now I think she really does try, as I try to meet her where she is in turn. And we see each other as people, not as family roles, and that to me...has an ineffable, lovely quality. Which is, incidentally, why I'm taking her down south for her birthday, so we can spend even more time together.

*

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

*

I don't know that I have one. Oh wait, I think...I do, so let's just preface this first though.

The problem I have here is that I've had a life full of depression and PTSD (no literally, my post-trauma started showing in early childhood), and both things can actually cause memory loss or poor memory coherence (unless the memories are traumatic! Do not recommend).

However, I have a glimpse of a memory between me, Glen and Putu, shortly before Putu was bound to leave for Melbourne (for good, he hasn't come back except to visit), where we spent the whole day together, except a break in the afternoon for me to sleep, because true facts - I cannot get through a day without sleeping for several hours in the afternoon.

There was something so golden and perfect about that day. I remember startlingly for me, sitting on the couch and tired and sore (we'd spent the day going to dim sum and then later walking around Kings Park) basking in a feeling I couldn't recall having felt before, and then I think I turned to Putu and Glen and said with some amazement, 'I think I feel content.' And Putu and Glen were like '...yeah...and?' and later I had to admit to Glen I'd never felt the feeling before. Golden and soft, like a cloud.

I think I've felt it once more since then, but I don't remember when. And I don't think I'd felt it before then, either. I would not wish my brain chemistry on anyone. But I'm very glad I got to share that moment with Putu, who is a very close member of my chosen family, for all that I don't get to see him very often anymore.

I can't strongly recall the feeling of the emotion itself. I remember describing it to myself in my head, in complete sentences, and those are the sentences I'm sharing to you now, because my verbal memory is much better than my emotional memory (I have quite serious alexithymia, which would surprise no one, but it's better than it used to be).

And I am relieved that my brain did actually hang onto the moment, mostly because I chanted to myself like a prayer: please don't forget this please don't forget this please don't forget this remember your position on the couch remember where Putu is sitting remember where Glen is sitting remember what you said and remember the time of day and remember what came before.

And, now, I do.

*

From the flower asks meme!

[kiarcheo]

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now    6/?

To read on  Ao3 click here  (if lately you had the same problem with links on Tumblr as me, try removing the https://href.li/? part from the URL)

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

DISCLAIMER: In Plato’s words. I know that I know nothing. It doesn't stop me from writing. As always this is fiction and what I write is what suits the narrative I want.

Also I feel like there are a lot of expectations about this one…not sure I met them, but this is what I got.

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

For all the scenarios Katherine had thought of, her song putting a halt to the musical writing process had not been one of them. She doesn’t notice at first. Cathy’s song is the next one and she just assumes she is taking her time with it. She knows how careful the writer is when choosing her words (picky, Anne had teased her while telling them how long it took Cathy to decide on what to write on Kat’s birthday card). So it takes Kat a while to realise that Cathy never brings up the musical anymore. None of them do.

Their reactions to the song had been...strong. They have all come to care deeply about the youngest queen (and each other in general) and hearing what she went through...Rage does not do justice to what they felt...among many other feelings.

Catalina’s legs had given away beneath her halfway the first verse, a strangled noise alerting Anna, who had lunged forward and had barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground.  Then Catalina had literally used her friend’s body to support herself and climb back to her feet. Anna had not minded, the contact grounding her. Even somehow knowing what to expect, it did not make listening to it any easier. So she had stood there, an arm loosely around Catalina’s shaking frame, ready to hold her up if need be.

As Katherine concluded her song, all you could hear in the control room were muffled sobs from all the queens. Until the girl stood up.

‘Get yourself together.’ Catalina had hoarsely growled. ‘It’s not about you.’

Cathy had not been sure if she had been talking to them or to herself. If she had to be honest, she had not expected such a visceral reaction from her. From Kat’s cousins, maybe, but not from Catalina. And not because she cared less or anything like that. Anyone spending some time with them could easily tell that Catalina loved Kat. Just…in a different way compared to Anne or Jane or even herself and Anna. Almost…maternal. Which makes sense if Cathy thinks about it. Catalina had been the only one of them who got to be a mother. And Kat was the youngest queen, in the past and also now that they came back, even if not by much (Cathy herself was just a few years older). But the first queen had always strived to maintain a certain degree of composure, even around them, while Anne and Jane had been more open with their emotions. For Catalina to let go, to let them see her so raw and exposed…

As soon as Kat had stepped into the room, Catalina had engulfed her in a tight hug. When Anne had tried to step in, she had immediately recoiled at the glare she had received. But after a while, with no sign of Catalina letting Kat go any time soon, Anne had given up on waiting for her turn, and just decided to try her luck and join the hug. With no protest forthcoming, it quickly became a group hug.  

They had made sure to make crystal clear to Kat their support and willingness to listen or do anything she might need them to do. But what resulted was also an unsaid agreement among them not to bring up the topic unless Kat did it first. Which included not bringing up the musical since her song is all about that and what started everything.

Everyone took it hard, but nobody took it harder than Catalina. She knew 13-year-old Katherine. She remembers 13-year-old Katherine as if it was yesterday. To know what happened to her. Because she left her. Before, she had thought her death had indirectly led to Katherine’s marriage and consequently her death. But now…To know that as soon as she left her, everything bad started to happen to the girl she considers a daughter...The nightmares, which had petered off, come back with a vengeance.

That’s the main reason it takes a while for Kat to realise she hasn’t really thought or talked about the musical since she presented her song: all her focus and energy are on Catalina. She is back at spending her nights at her side, after arguing that she would be awake in her room anyway, so at least they can be awake together. It takes its toll on their days too. Not just because they are tired from sleepless nights. The only reason Catalina can still face Katherine is that she knows how hurt she would be if she were to go back at avoiding looking at her like when she first arrived. Catalina’s guilt is overwhelming and colours every interaction.

They are both aware of how it is affecting their relationship and decide to take remedial actions before it becomes too much and ruins it permanently: they are going to therapy.

It is not the first time the topic comes up. It had been one of the suggestions on the online forums they had looked at when Catalina had decided that it was time to start to deal with what they deemed, for the sake of brevity, ‘the Mary issue’. They had found some support groups for families of offenders. Among the advice on how to come to terms with a loved one committing terrible crimes, a common one was therapy. Except that Catalina could not exactly talk about her daughter burning people at stake for religious dissent without A) breaking the NDA she signed about not revealing her true identity to the public B) likely being considered deranged. That’s also why she never attended any group in person, limiting herself to research, reading and self-help with Katherine’s support.

But now, that is not enough, and Catalina is willing to try anything to save their relationship (and she thinks Katherine might benefit from talking about her trauma, properly…and with a professional). They decide to ask their ‘handlers’ for recommendations, taking advantage of their help as long as they can before potentially pissing them off with their musical. Considering the NDAs they had signed, it is likely in their interest that they don’t go to a random therapist and spill the beans. Indeed, they get a handful of names of approved professionals who are used to work with people not always able to fully disclose their past, or even their present (they didn’t get details, but their guess is something like witness protection or law enforcement) and thus won’t question weird gaps and omissions in patients’ histories.

They do some research and choose a practice with multiple therapists, all women, with different specialisations. The first meeting is with a senior partner who will get the laydown and decide whom, among the associates, refer them to.

‘My name is Doctor Sonya Newton, I’m going to ask you some questions to assess the issues and decide the best way to move forward, okay?’ the doctor starts after the prospective patients sit down. ‘It is important that you are as truthful and open as you can. If you don’t wish to answer, say so and we’ll move on, but please don’t lie. Lying will only, at best, undermine our efforts and at worst hurt them...or you. You are free to leave at any point, to decide that you don’t wish to continue, to look for another practice, again – I can’t stress this enough – at any point. We are here to help you, and if it’s not working for you…well, what is the point then?’

She waits for a response, and only after she gets a pair of tense nods, she moves on. ‘Now that ground rules are done. Let’s start with the basics. Can you tell me your name and your relationship with each other?’

‘My name is Katherine and I’m her-’ she hesitates.

‘Daughter. She is my daughter and I’m Catalina, her mother.’

The doctor scribbles something down. She didn’t miss the hesitation in Katherine’s answer nor the glance she sent the older woman, but neither she missed the elated look when Catalina took over and replied.

‘Who did decide to come?’ It’s the following question.

‘We both did.’ This time is Katherine who answers for both, Catalina nodding in agreement.

‘That’s good. When both parties are willing to put in the work…the first step is half the journey.’ Sonya smiles at them. ‘What are you hoping to get from these sessions?’

‘There are some...issues that are affecting our relationship and we realised we needed help to deal with them properly.’

‘That’s also good. Recognising there is a problem is the first step and doing something about it is the best second one.’ Catalina’s reply gets another approving nod from the doctor. ‘What do you think those issues are?’

They share a look, a response not coming as quickly as the previous ones.

‘Let me ask a different question. What do you hope the other will get from this?’

‘I hope she’ll realise that what happened to me was not her fault. She literally could not do anything about it. She feels guilty for stuff that was completely out of her control. I’ve never blamed her, not then, not now, and I wish she could see it.’

Sonya hums. She had not expected Katherine to take the lead. It is shaping up to be an interesting and perhaps rather unusual dynamic.

‘What about you?’

‘I know she feels guilty for me feeling guilty.’ It’s basically a self-feeding circle. Catalina feels guilty for what happened to Kat leading to nightmares and her instinctively trying to distance herself from the girl. Kat feels guilty that Catalina is suffering again from nightmares because of her, despite it not being her fault, and she is hurt because of the distancing. Which leads Catalina to feel even more guilty because she is hurting her. ‘But actually, the thing I really want is...for her to feel confident and secure in my love. Stop living in fear of disappointing me, in fear I’ll leave her-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know-’ Kat had not realised she knew. ‘I know you would not do that, I don’t want you to think that-’

‘I know. I got you back and I'm never letting you go. No matter what. There is nothing you could do that could make me love you any less. Especially not something that was not your fault. It just breaks my heart every time you look surprised at me being proud of you, or you second-guess calling yourself my daughter-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was hurting you, I-’ Katherine starts again.

‘That’s what I mean.’ Catalina interrupts her gently but addressing the doctor. Then she turns to Kat again. ‘You’re not responsible for my feelings. Just like you’re not responsible for my nightmares.’

‘I have some points I’d like you to elaborate a bit more on, if you don’t mind.’ Sonya says looking at her notes after waiting for some moments to be sure they don’t wish to say more on the matter. ‘But first. Do you agree with what the other said about you?’

She gets twin resigned sighs and nods.

‘Okay.’ She jots something down. ‘Now. You both referred to something that happened and you were not at fault for. Can you tell me what those things are?’

Catalina defers to Katherine with a look clearly saying ‘that’s your call’.

The girl swallows. ‘Sexual abuse.’

‘Child sexual abuse.’ Catalina growls.

The doctor looks down at her notepad. No matter how long you have been on the job and how much horrible stuff you hear, it never gets easier. She takes a moment to digest it, before moving on because she has a job to do. 'Do you blame yourself for that, Katherine?’

‘No. I know it was not my fault. I was a child and even later, I didn’t really have a choice.’

‘And you were still a child.’

‘Can I ask how old you were?’

‘It started when I was 13.’

The doctor nods. The girl looks in her early twenties at most, so that was not such a long time ago, especially if it went on for a while.

‘Do you feel or ever felt that your mother would think it was your fault?’

‘No. Not that. Just...that...she’d be…disappointed? Ashamed? Lots of people didn’t believe me, you know. Or thought I deserved what I got. Went looking for it.’ She gets lost in the memories for a few moments. ‘But I never thought she’d be one of them. But I also knew that it was not what she had hoped for me.’

‘Of course, it was not.’ Catalina almost spats out. ‘I would not wish that on my worst enemy, of course I would not wish that for my child.’

‘I always wanted to make her proud.’

‘You do.’

‘And I struggle to believe that. She is right.’ Katherine admits, referring to what Catalina listed as the main issue she hoped therapy would help her with. ‘It’s just that I’ve always looked up to her. I know she is not perfect. She doesn’t have to be. Not with me.’ She sends her a pointed look. ‘Look. I don’t know.’ Her tone is slightly defeated. ‘I’m generally quite confident in lots of things...but I just...feel like I don’t deserve her? After my mother died, she has been the only one who ever truly and genuinely loved me for myself without ulterior motives. Some days it’s just hard to believe that she did. Does. Since nobody else ever did.’

Catalina clears her throat. ‘I know four people who would argue about that...’

‘Until recently, I guess.’ Katherine corrects herself, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips.

Sonya hums. ‘You mentioned your mother dying?’

‘I adopted her after we....reunited.’

‘That’s a lot to unpack.’ The doctor mumbles almost to herself as she keeps writing quickly on her notepad. ‘Am I correct in saying that you feel guilty about not stopping the abuse from happening?’

Catalina nods while Katherine mutters ‘Literally impossible.’

‘Can you give me some background? How did you meet? What happened...’

‘After her mother died, she was in my care,’ they had gone over what they could share and what not. Saying that Kat was taking care of Catalina would be strange, but the opposite made more sense and was expected, and it could explain their bond just like the truth would. ‘Then I had to-’

‘Leave.’

Catalina swallows and nods. That’s a way to put it. But she is glad that Kat did it for her...and like that. Her death is still a difficult topic for her. At first it had been more about the circumstances in which she died, but now, knowing what happened after...it’s even worse.

Sonya raises an eyebrow, as if to let them know she is aware that they are not telling the full story, but she nonetheless motions for them to continue.

‘I was sent to stay with some relatives. That’s where it started.’

‘Did you choose to leave?’ The doctor addresses Catalina.

‘No! It was,’ she takes a breath, ‘circumstances beyond my control.’

Sonya nods. It is not uncommon to know something rationally but emotionally still feeling guilty. ‘What happened after? Things seem to be better now...’

‘We were...brought back together.’ They beam at each other. ‘I officially adopted her.’

‘The last years had been the best of my life.’

The doctor can’t help smiling at the obvious happiness and love they radiate while talking about each other being together again. ‘Is there a specific reason you have decided to seek counselling now or is it just...right time, circumstances, things coming to a head now...’ she wonders.

‘Up until recently I had not shared what happened. Like, she knew how it ended, they all did. But not everything that came before.’

‘That’s a very brave thing to do. Sharing is never easy. Especially if you have done so in the past and have not been believed. And considering your fear of losing her love.’ She adds since that’s specific to her case. ‘Also I commend you for reaching out and looking for help. Both of you. Often admitting that you need help is the hardest step.’

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

Therapy now joins Spanish, writing and creating a musical, and adoption in the list of things I wrote about in this fic I know very little of.

[shadow-sovereign]

1. So, here is another idea: The relationship between South Korea and Japan are bad, so one of the politicans comes up with an idea: a hunter exchange programm between Korea and Japan. Some hunters from Korea stay with the Drawn Sword Guild and some hunters form Japan stay with one of their guilds. Each hunter has a "mentor" in the guild they are staying. Jin-Woo is among the hunters who go to Japan and his mentor is Goto Ryuji who is not happy playing babysitter for an E-Rank hunter.

2. But he has to play nice because of politics. So Jin-Woo is living with Ryuji. Ryuji’s first impression of the Korean is: "weak but kind of cute" and "looks like a puppy". Of course Jin-Woo still goes into Gates (with other D and E rank hunters) and one day the dual-dungeon-incident happens. They suspect that he experienced a double awakening, but their magical power detector says otherwise. Ryuji is still suspicious because Jin-Woo feels different to his senses.

3. As if something about him has changed so he watches him. And every day he feels stronger than before, and suddenly he grows muscles over night. He is like a puzzle Ryuji can not resist solving. They get closer every day. But Jin-Woo’s time in Japan runs out and he has to return to Korea.

This would be a very interesting dynamic. Ryuji as a general rule does not respect Hunters that are weak. He would not have a very high opinion of Jin-Woo at first. Even his reasons for being a Hunter would just be baffling to him.

Putting his life on the line to keep his mother on life support? It would be one thing if it was for life-saving treatment, to actually make his mother better. He could understand making that kind of sacrifice for a parent if it would actually save the person. But to make an indefinite sacrifice for a parent that’s always going to be in a coma?

I see Ryuji as maybe being a dutiful son, but not being particularly close to them. Maybe they were the kind of parents who worked a lot and thought the way to make your kid happy was through material goods. He always had food, nice clothes, and plenty of gifts on his birthday and holidays. Did it really matter if they weren’t always home on time for dinner?

This has led to Ryuji to being distant in general and very self-sufficient. He doesn’t feel comfortable opening up to others or forming attachments to them. That distance from humanity led to feeling superiority to humanity. He convinced himself that he doesn’t need others, so he must be better than them.

Watching Jin-Woo constantly getting hurt for someone else’s sake doesn’t really change his mind, either. Maybe he’ll even try to talk Jin-Woo out of it, as an odd form of pity. He can at least respect how persist Jin-Woo is at working towards his goals, even if he thinks said goals are pointless.

The conversation doesn’t really go over well. E-rank Jin-Woo is kind of timid, but he’s absolutely livid at this self-absorbed rich asshole telling him to let his mother die….because it doesn’t benefit him?? Maybe he goes on a rant about all that his mother has done for him growing up and not wanting her to die is reason enough for his sacrifice.

It could possibly lead to them discussing different philosophies later, assuming I can figure out how to write that. At the very least, I want them to have a discussion about the inherent value of human lives and how people don’t have to be “useful”. It’ll at least make Ryuji introspective, but I don’t think he’s going to have a big change of heart right away. He’ll eventually learn how to care about people, but he’s always going to be a bit selfish.

Now, winding back to the start – how does Jin-Woo get selected for the exchange program? He’s the weakest Hunter there is. ‘Wouldn’t it look bad on Korea for me to get sent over?’, he asks. But the fact that he keeps working as a Hunter despite his weakness is exactly why they chose him.

Unlike Ryuji, other people are quite moved by his story. About how he risks his life every time he steps through a gate to pay his mother’s hospital bills. How he raised his sister after their mother fell into a coma, their father presumed killed in a gate. And how he’s raising money to put her through university.

In addition to what they normally pay him to go through Gates, they give him extra for every day he’s in Japan, plus they pay for his travel expenses. Plane ticket and a decent budget for food. With him staying with Ryuji, he at least doesn’t have to pay for housing in Japan, which is useful since he still has to pay the bills for his sister in Korea.

It’s difficult for him to be separated from her for so long. Perhaps the exchange program could be about a year long. In the beginning, Jin-Woo video calls her every day, but that gradually shifts into 2-3 times a week as they get used to the separation.

Ryuji’s not happy about having someone in his space, but he’s playing along with this situation for political reasons. He understands that public opinion is its own type of power, especially when it’ll determine who’s willing to do business with you.

When he gets Jin-Woo home, he lays out some basic ground rules. Like, no eating outside of the kitchen/dining area. He owns his own apartment on the top floor of some tall building. He doesn’t want his carpets getting stained or food spilled on his couches. But he doesn’t have expensive vases and statues laying around, waiting to give Jin-Woo a heart attack with one wrong move. (He does have some fancy artwork, but you’re a lot less likely to knock that off the wall than an expensive vase off a shelf.)

Basically, Ryuji is reasonable in the house rules he sets. He doesn’t try to intimidate Jin-Woo, but he’s not particularly friendly either. In the beginning, he’ll probably ignore Jin-Woo for the most part. But he keeps getting reports of how Jin-Woo was injured in this raid and that raid (healed before he gets back to Ryuji’s apartment. He’s going on raids with Ryuji’s guild and Ryuji always insists on a healer with every raid, low ranked or not. The healer fees are less expensive than the insurance payouts.)

Eventually, Ryuji gets curious about the way Jin-Woo thinks. How he can keep going on dangerous raids to pay for the hospital bills of a mother who’s never going to wake up. That’s when they start having more regular conversations, trying to understand the other’s point of view.

They’re not quite friends by the time Jin-Woo encounters the Double Dungeon, but they’re close enough that Ryuji visits him in the hospital. Maybe Ryuji realizes that he would be at least briefly upset if the kid died, which is more than he can say for most people.

He notices pretty quickly when Jin-Woo starts changing. Not only is he suddenly doing exercise every day, but he’s gaining muscles and height. The muscles could be hidden by clothes, but he’s not going to miss that the kid he’s been living with for months is suddenly taller.

They start spending more time together as Ryuji tries to figure out what’s going on. Jin-Woo deflects some of the questions, but doesn’t outright tell Ryuji it’s none of his business. Maybe Jin-Woo likes that he’s got more of Ryuji’s attention now. (Though if Ryuji had completely ignored him when he was weaker, he’d be ignoring Ryuji now. He won’t get closer to someone who’s only interested in him now that he’s stronger.)

As Jin-Woo becomes stronger, he becomes more confident as well. He’s more bold in how he states his opinion, no more stuttering or nervous fidgeting. The change makes a remarkable difference. Add that to his changing body and Ryuji realizes he’s starting to become attracted to Jin-Woo. (The real question is whether Jin-Woo will notice on his own. I headcanon him as not having much experience with romance before the Double Dungeon incident. He was too busy going on raids and taking care of his sister.)

Perhaps he and Ryuji spar a few times before Jin-Woo has to go back to Korea? Ryuji obviously notices that Jin-Woo is stronger every time, wondering how this is possible and when Jin-Woo’s growth will stop. He’s both relieved and disappointed that he didn’t get to see Jin-Woo reach his own strength before he had to return home, almost looking forward to sparring with him as an equal.

I’m not sure about the timeline of everything. Perhaps Jin-Woo is in Japan for another two months after the Double Dungeon incident. He doesn’t go on raids during that time, focusing on getting stronger. He’s trying to avoid having his increased strength be noticed until he reaches S-rank.

Ryuji would probably help cover for him, saying that Jin-Woo is recovering from the trauma or something. He doesn’t have anything to gain by selling Jin-Woo out, especially not compared to having an S-rank Hunter as an ally.

So, Jin-Woo goes back to Korea, perhaps in time to save Yoo Jin-Ho’s life? The timeline’s probably going to be slightly off from canon to make everything work, but I’m not sure the Novel ever explained how fast things were happening anyway.

I think I’ll stop here. When I get around to writing this, then I’ll do more brainstorming. (Thank you for this suggestion, by the way. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me to have E-rank Jin-Woo interacting with Ryuji at all without this idea. But this Hunter Exchange program means that Ryuji will have no choice but to pay attention to him, when he would have otherwise ignored such a low level Hunter.)

And a reminder to my followers, feel free to send in any of your fic ideas! I’d love to see them. ^_^

[plantvenuss]

Avenging what we lost- [ Steve Rogers x Black! reader ] - 3

-

[A/N - To be added to the taglist just ask! 🍒💕! the summary may be the same for a few chapters or it might change!]

For previous chapters:  Part one, and here for  Part two 

WARNINGS : None

Summary: Following the release of the readers hospitalization, the reader tries to find out why and who was behind what happened on the 21st of September, 2013. But  will they you after the right person? and what happens when it becomes harder than you thought it would be?

-

-

-

1 year ago....

February, 8th 2013.

“You gonna be okay?” Melina, the woman who had been your caretaker for less than a year asked, rubbing your back as the yellow taxi parallel parked in front of you.

The streets were busy, the sound of honking, buzzing cars filled your ears. You breathed in the scent of DC and savored it, the smell of fresh air and soft winter breeze hitting a spot you’d never thought you’d feel again.

Everything felt new, your mind felt fresh- it felt like it somehow expanded and you were open to more knowledge that you could’ve never reached before. You named it the “post-accident high.” because you thought that everyone who had experienced such severe “accidents.” felt this way. That the trauma was so severe that it shook the core of the soul. And the body not knowing how to react to such drastic changes, made changes of its own to adapt: renewing the mind

You nodded as the driver loaded your things in the trunk. ”Although I don’t really remember some things.” you commented jokingly, which made the both of you giggle.

 You turned to her, the necklace she had given you on your birthday swinging with the movement of your body. You gave her a soft smile and placed your hand on top of her forearm.

“Are you?” You asked back, becoming serious, and she gave you a stunned look, her eyebrows furrowing, eyes looking around as if you had been talking to someone else before she gave an answer.

She opened her mouth but stopped, wrapping her arms around herself as the whisk cold air blew again. She smiled a sad smile, watching the cars drive by as she continued to stand there with her arms wrapped around herself.

She nodded after a while of silence, like she was appreciating the scene in front of her- the kind of nod you give when you’re satisfied with everything.

“Yeah. I am.”

Finally, she turned and placed her hand on top of yours and exhaled, a short breath enough for it to make the air that escaped her lips turn to fog and dissolve into the air.

You placed your hands on top of hers, the feeling that this moment would only last a short second sitting in the pit of the both of your stomachs.

Although you were not brave enough to admit it, you were going to miss parts you could remember about her. You were going to miss how she put up with your bullshit all of the time, how she would always come in with a brighter smile even after you yelled at her and told her to fuck off countless times. You never meant for all of that, the yelling, the cursing the temper tantrums, it was just that she reminded you so much of your brother, Marcus.

So well put together, so patient and tolerant with all of your shit, you were almost starting to believe that Marcus’ soul was put into the the body of this woman to taunt you.

And you couldn’t help but get angry. It wasn’t his fault, none of what happened that day was anybody’s fault but your own, and you had come to terms with that not too long ago. But you couldn’t dismiss the anger you felt. How could he just leave you here all alone like this? with scars etched all over your body, it disgusted you. You were supposed to protect each other, you were supposed to protect him.

But your pride was too high to admit that to her, how much she reminded you of your brother, even with all of the 3rd degree burns that were patched up and hidden away so the rest of the world couldn’t see you, or hear your stories.

“How about this.” You began, the idea of letting her go so soon breaking your heart. Not now, not when you had such a connection with her.

Slipping your hand away from hers you turned, the taxi driver impatiently seated in his car, waiting for you to say your goodbyes.

“how about we grab a coffee one of these days?” you asked, gulping, waiting to be disappointed.

She smiled brighter, her smile almost bringing the sun out, she nodded and you limped toward the taxi with her help, you said your goodbye’s and the taxi sped off, merging into the Washington traffic. But when you turned to look around, even after sitting in a queue of red lights and honking cars, she was still there, waiting.

-

June 20th, 2014.

Today....

-

“Any updates on the missing files?” Steve asked as he crouched over Natasha’s desk, she shook her head, no, as she continued to type at an impeccable speed, her eyes managing to keep up with whatever her fingers were feeding the computer with.

“I’m trying to hack their feed, trying to see if anyone was in that file room before you.” 

Steve nodded, fixing his posture and standing up right, grabbing one of the files he took from the base off of Natasha’s desk, skimming through it.

“Good. Let me know if you find anything.” turning on his heels Natasha’s words stopped him from moving any further, “I’m in.” she said, and Steve turned around faster than he’s ever done before.

“Whoever this is,” Natasha spoke after a while of static buzzed through the computers speakers. “meddled with the feed, so I can’t identify the face. Only the times they were in and out.”

Steve huffed, dropping the file back on top of the neat stack of files, Natasha turned towards him with her lips pressed tightly, the feeling of failure seeping into her veins. 

-

“We need to talk.” 

He peered over his shoulder and scoffed as the door clicked behind Steve, kicking his feet off of his desk he stood, in one swift motion, his back still turned on Steve.

Steve took this as a sign to move forward, he placed his shield on the couch that was placed in the center of the room and moved his way towards Fury’s desk, he took Fury’s silence as a notion to speak but he chose to remain silent.

“What is it, Rogers?” He asked, his dominant voice bouncing off of the walls. Steve exhaled through his nose, his stubbornness getting the best of him, he swayed on his feet before his eyes flicked up to meet the back of Fury’s head.

“We have missing files and you don’t seem to care.” He croaked out, Fury’s body suddenly turned to this accusation, almost like he jumped at the idea to argue.

“Did I say I didn’t care?” He bounced back, finally meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time since he stepped into the room.

“You’re not exactly acting like you do.” Steve sassed back, if there was ever a time to be sassy, the time was now. Those files were important to S.H.I.E.L.D and now that  they’ve been stolen, without any possible trace, the existence of S.H.I.E.L.D is at stake.

“So you’ve come to my office, to tell me how I should and shouldn’t give a damn?” 

“No-” Steve pursed his lips into a tight line and tucked his two thumbs into the hilt of his uniform. He turned his head towards fury, his blue eyes boring a sense of urgency behind them, he knows he could catch whoever took the files, hell he wanted to catch whoever did this, all he wanted was for Fury to feel the same. 

“All I’m asking is for you to help, send some agents, send a tech team- just send someone. It’s just me and Romanoff down there, and as much as I’d like to believe we can get it done on our own this time,” Steve raised his shoulders and Fury gave him a look of understanding and defeat after a moment.

-

It marked hour 3 when the loading bar successfully chimed, your head shot up from your desk and you rubbed your cold hands together. Wasting no time your hands moved towards the mouse and you began navigating what you could get your hands on.

“Come on, gimme something.” You urged on, your leg jittering up and down in anticipation. It took you months of planning to get your hands on these things, and you were hoping all of your good work was not put in for nothing.

Just when your hope was beginning to crack you came across a double file, which of course had its sets of passwords because it was S.H.I.E.L.D, but you had no problem getting past those, when you did your hands froze.

You pressed harder against the mouse, the beds of your fingers crushing the material under it, you grit your teeth, your heart beating faster than ever as you read the file over and over again just to make sure you were reading it correctly.

‘S.H.I.E.L.D INITIATIVE, PROJECT SEP 21ST-13 D.C’

‘There must’ve been some kind of file error, surely this couldn’t have been under the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D?’ you thought as you continued to hover the mouse over the file, your fingers shaking with anticipation. You shouldn’t feel this excited about knowing who was behind the attack against your family, but you can’t help it, you’ve finally been able to pin a face to this, after months.  And that face was S.H.I.E.L.D.S.

Pulling yourself together you opened the file and the screen glitched for a second,  the darkest black you’ve ever seen over-taking your screen as the sound of the computer increased to a piercing shriek, but it was over quicker then you could react. The screen lit up again, and your computer was bombarded with notes, weapon blueprints and potential “attack” dates, all written in some sort of code that you’d never come across before.

You did everything you could, tried to figure out the coding, tried to figure out any hidden features the weapons had, hell you even tried to figure out who triggered the launch for the bomb to go off in the first place, but after around half an hour, the file shut down and re-set its password.

You had figured out, a short while after you had failed to retrieve any useful information that would bring you to a lead, that whoever coded this file must have been the expert among experts, because they were able to hide the fact that after a specific time, you were locked out of each file, depending on the files importance.

Deciding to wrap it up for a day you pinned the hard-drive to your desktop when something caught your eye. This file stood out the most, instead of a mini folder as the image for the file itself it was a small, square bar with extremely small green coding against it, you thought nothing of it, deciding that it was probably a file about getting through HYDRA’S computer system, you decided to leave it alone, until your eyes came across the files name.

  ‘PROJEKT: [Y / N] [L / N] - 29203 SERUM # 5′

Turns out the night was going to be longer than you thought.

[curiositydooropened]

Movie Night

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

---

Read the rest on AO3 or keep reading.

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

Steve could still smell SS Butterscotch, still nursed the tear at his lip with a slick tongue, still heard Russian conversation ringing in his ears. With the new school year came study sessions for the nerds, who weren’t allowed to be out on school nights, and Steve found himself mostly alone in his room, haunted by plaid walls and the Flesh Monsters of his mind. He thought he’d be used to it by now. A nineteen year old guy shouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

And yet, he practically sprinted from his BMW to the Buckley’s front stoop. The wrap of his knuckles was answered by a stately woman in a power suit, clearly readying herself to be out the door as fast as he had entered. “Mr. Harrington,” the woman commented with a knowing smirk on red lips. She fastened a pearl stud to her earlobe. “I didn’t know we were expecting you.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve leaned awkwardly on the balls of his feet, unsure if he was permitted to enter or if he should just leave now. He never knew where he stood with the Robin’s parents.

Understandably, they believed Steve had pulled their daughter from a burning building. Robin was convinced her mom thought they were screwing, an uncomfortable tidbit that sent Steve’s cheek burning as he stared into the older woman’s eyes. Robin’s father was a military man, not around much, intimidating as hell.

“That’s quite alright, dear. What are you two up to tonight?” Again, the look.

Steve rocked back on his heels, running an awkward hand through his hair. “Oh I don’t know. I think watch a scary movie?”

“How exciting. I’m off to a book club night. I’ll be home late. Take of her, will you?” Mrs. Buckley shoved a book under her arm for emphasis, the cover was stained purple and atop it was a Fabio-haired man that reminded Steve a little too much of Billy Hargrove. He blanched.

“Mom, go!” Robin’s voice called from within the house.

Mrs. Buckley waved her off with a smile. “I’m going, I’m going! Lock up behind me. You kids have fun!” And she was off.

Robin stood atop the staircase, all legs under an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was a mess in a scrunchie atop her head, and she stood with one hand on her hip, the other gesturing for him to hurry his ass inside. It’s getting cold.

Steve did as instructed, slipping soggy sneakers onto the entry mat and shrugging off his red and white puffed jacket. Dustin had asked him where he’d gotten it. He didn’t share, figured he’d get it for the kid for his birthday coming up.

“I’m thinking Evil Dead,” Robin squawked her way around the corner and up the stairs, not bothering to make sure he had followed.

Steve groaned. “Again? It’s like I’ve befriended Jonathan Byers.”

“You have befriended Jonathan Byers.” Robin reminded him, stopping at the doorway to her bedroom to prove her point.

“Shared trauma does not make us friends.”

“Shared girlfriend might.”

“Fuck off.”

Robin grinned.

Robin’s bedroom was a hodge podge of nerdom and geekery. It wasn’t covered in Science crap like Dustin’s, but the Arts. There were hand painted Drama masks in one corner and a Saxophone stand in the other. She had a collection of video cassettes and vinyl records and everything was bright colors and black all at once. She’d carved sonnets into her headboard with a ball point pen. A small television stand stood opposite her bed, just beside a window. She climbed out that window one night, late August, and biked to his house. They stayed up for hours outside the pool, talking about Starcourt, talking about it all.

Unceremoniously, she plopped onto her bed, belly first, legs flopping behind her. She fluffed a pillow under her chest and patted the spot next to her for Steve to sit. At the foot of the bed, near her head, was a bowl of popcorn and a platter of assorted candies. The colorful gummies reminded Steve of topping sundaes and his head spun a little. Reluctantly, he slipped beside her, back to her headboard, socked feet near her shoulder.

“Keith said they’re hiring down at Family Video,” Robin offered, pulling a gummy worm between her teeth. She leaned forward for the remote and the bed shifted under her weight.

“Ugh, Keith?”

“A job’s a job, dingus. Do you want cash or not?”

Steve supposed she was right. Well, it was Robin, she was always right. But the idea of slinging video tapes next to Loud Mouth Buckley and Pizza Face didn’t seem ideal. Although, his dad had been on his ass again. The novelty of his traumatic incident had seemed to have worn off on the old man. Steve should suck it up.

“So how’s school?” Steve asked as Robin fast forwarded through the commercials.

She shrugged. “Weird. It’s almost like no one else fought a human flesh monster from another dimension.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s so bizarre.”

Robin rolled over to face him. “No really, though. It sucks. It’s like everyone just forgot.”

“Everyone that could,” Steve nodded. He picked at a pen mark on the lap of his jeans.

“Nancy’s doing well,” Robin prodded at him with a spindly finger.

“I didn’t ask.” Steve sighed.

“I know, but you loooooved her,” Robin cackled. He always forgot how juvenile she was.

“Yeah, well, I’m seeing that… Patsy girl, or whatever.” He’d taken a girl from high school on a couple of dates now. She was a senior too, a little geeky. They mostly made out in his car. She was a sloppy kisser and didn’t seem like she was going to put out, and she definitely wasn’t relationship material.

“Ugh,” Robin rolled her eyes. “I told you not to go there. She’s a lost cause.”

“Apparently that’s my type,” Steve sighed. “Are we going to watch this movie or what?”

Steve didn’t know how they did it, how they could through hours of prosthetic makeup and gore and horror, after what they’d been through. Maybe they were desensitized. Scary movies just weren’t scary anymore, they were almost comical. Bruce Campbell had no idea of the real horrors that were out there, that walked among us. The worst of it was, most of Steve’s nightmares weren’t even about the monsters he’d seen and killed, but about the humans, the ones that got away.

The film had ended and he wiped at tired eyes, propped up against his bent knee. Robin slurped the last few bubbles from her can of Coke and threw her head back against the headboard. “Dingus?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’re going to be fucked up forever?”

“Probably.” Steve sighed. The red thread had become to pull loose on the toe of his sock. “I used to think I could be normal if I just pretended. Like, if I just act like a normal teenager, I am a normal teenager, but I think that’s… bullshit.” He snorted.

“Yeah, it’s like, I want to do normal teenaged shit, like get stoned with my friends after band class, but I can’t because I’m terrified I’m going to let it all out, and then they’re going to just ditch me because I’ll be that freak girl who makes up monsters.”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess I never really thought of that. I always had Nancy, and then when I didn’t, I just channeled it into sports, I guess.”

“Ugh, sports,” Robin scoffed.

A moment passed between them.

“Dingus?”

“Yeah, Rob,” he closed his eyes, leaning his chin on his knee. He wondered if he had patience for more of her questions tonight. The lure of his bed at home seemed ever present, and sometimes he wanted to shut out the horror, to turn off his brain and think of sports and video games and the girls in magazines in his closet and not Hawkins and all of this shit.

“When I go to college, are you coming with me?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and he didn’t want to. The prospect of college felt far off, unwelcome, felt like something he wasn’t built to endure. He worried too much about his kids, his family, he had to take care of them now that Hopper was gone, and Joyce. He had to fill that void, subconsciously of course. “I don’t know, Rob. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“That’s fine,” she agreed. He was glad she knew he needed to take things slow. “I’m forcing you to apply for Family Video with me though.”

He groaned, flopping dramatically to the pillow beside her. She laughed and splayed a hand across his chest. “Think of the babes, Harrington.” She said softly. “Chicks love movies.”

Steve managed to slip out the door just as Mrs. Buckley was arriving home. The woman giggled her way up the stoop, slipping in heels, breath wine soaked. She gave Steve a kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick as she went, and he blushed as she grappled his arms for stability when she removed her shoes from her heels.

“Have a goodnight, Mrs. Buckley,” he managed, getting ready to close the door behind himself, but the woman stopped him with a slammed hand.

Her face went suddenly sober, eyes brimming with emotion. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”

He smiled softly and nodded. “Anytime, Mrs. Buckley,” and he meant it.

[tsaritza-mika]

Just some thoughts I have about things

So recently, this picture came across my dash, and while I can always appreciate a good joke at my personal expense, it also got me thinking: Why even should this be a joke pointed at myself and others like me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m still laughing about it, even now, but it still got me thinking about the subject it pokes fun at, and my overactive brain decided to analyze things a bit.

Now since this is the internet and it’s customary to overshare, I recently figured out that I’ve been in a deeply depressive state for... I wanna say about the last 5-7 years or so. How did I figure this out? Well, as the picture says, I fell in love with a fictional character. Like yeah, love. I get these huge, dopey as shit smiles on my face when he crosses my mind, the joy in my brain gets turned to the max, and I’m unbelievably happy knowing that even if he is considered to be ‘just a drawing’, that he exists, and despite it being obviously scripted, he loves me with all his fictional heart and soul.

But anyway, back to the oversharing part of this, because what’s a good internet story without some trauma, right? A little over five years ago, I spent my 30th birthday getting drunk on the front porch of my parents house in Southern California, knowing that when I was done I was going to go back to their back house and continue my then two years, post-divorced status, and attempting to rebuild my life without someone at my side for the first time in roughly ten years. Before then, my joys in life came from just about anything artistic. I drew my favorite characters, I watched a ton of cartoons and anime because since I was four, I wanted nothing more than to be an animator. I also played video games and hung out with friends regularly.

Well, after the divorce, a lot of that went away. Now, I knew I was upset. I could point that out without issue, but the longer time went, the drive and creativity that had been with me my whole life didn’t seem to come back the same way it had. Sure, I’d still draw, still made some pictures I could be proud of, but rather than taking maybe a few hours to a day or so, maybe a single picture from inception to completion would take a few weeks. If it ever got completed at all, of course. Instead, I buried myself in my video games. I didn’t have to think or process anything I was personally feeling when I played them, because it was always reflective of the feelings of the games’ main character/chosen toon I played at the time.

Then, on a whim, a few months ago when America’s West Coast decided to burn, I decided to listen to my best friend and download a mobile dating game. I’d played dating games before, I’m no stranger to tropes and anything else that pops up in them. Hell, one of my favorite dating games is Monster Prom, and yes, my favorite is Damien because let’s face it, he’s deliciously destructive and handsome as fuck. But I digress, it wasn’t Damien that really made me feel this way. It was Julian.

I should probably say here too that I’ve been this way my whole life, you know, before I get too much further into this. My first fictional crush was, like many my age, Chiba Mamoru, better known to some as Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon. Even now I’ll still swoon at the right line and the right picture at the right time. Because I mean, let’s face it, he’s hot as fuck. Since then, there have been others: Heero Yui, Tamahome, Inuyasha, Sousuke Sagara, Kurz Weber, Kyo Sohma, to name only a few. And that’s just the anime side of things. However, none of these loves/crushes, have ever negatively impacted my ability to love someone real. I’ve had boyfriends, and even been married, and they’d never felt threatened or stated anything wrong with these feelings what-so-ever.

Yet there are still those out there who will roll their eyes at this and try to convince me that ‘you’re not in love’, or ‘it’s not real because he’s not real’, and whatever other bullshit they feel like saying at the time. But here’s my rebuttal to that: What makes my love for this fictional character any less valid than say, someone with a celebrity/musician crush? Chances are those people will never even manage to be in the same room as that celebrity, and even if they are, there’s never a guarantee they’d feel anything in particular for them anyway if they managed to get close. But, when they smile, when they do something admirable, when you learn something new about them, doesn’t that happiness feel the same? I was one of those people too, except my walls were plastered with every poster imaginable of Johnathan Taylor Thomas. Because it was the 90s bitches. I knew I’d never get anywhere near him or anything, but when he laughed, I smiled. When he was upset, I was upset for him.

My depression left me with essentially nothing but an empty shell for so long, and because I’d only ever heard of symptoms from more severe cases than my own, I mistakenly thought that maybe that part of my life was just over, and that it was something I had to get through and find something else to make me happy. But then I played a game, I ‘met’ Julian, I spent time with him, got to know him and how much of a dramatic disaster he is himself. Yes, he was written and coded to make someone like me happy, but because, like so many others before, pieces of him resonated so deeply inside me, I fell for him and all of his flaws.

He can drink too much, is very depressed and in need of some actual sleep, he’s altruistic to the point of masochism, he has a pain/BDSM kink, he’s practically if not literally addicted to coffee, he’s had trouble letting go of bitter feelings regarding his ex and how it ended, he has regrets about how he’s handled things in his life, he doesn’t believe he deserves to be happy when he’s made so many perceived mistakes. But... he’s also incredibly smart, loves a good dramatic entrance, making those around him feel special, performing in some fashion, he’s studied hard to become the best damn doctor he could be because he wanted to help people, he loves his sister dearly and wants her to be happy, among so many other things and quirks I can’t say it all.

This fictional man makes me so fucking happy, I have art ideas again for the first time in almost ten years. I want to save up and get a new tablet so I can contribute to the fandom he’s a part of with animatics and animations. I want to make so many pictures, I want to write more, I want to animate, and a part of me has even been considering the thought of looking into some kind of musical instrument for the first time since I was twelve and learning the saxophone. And above everything else, I can recognize the depression I was in, and can move forward from it. I can still love everything I used to and be happy with them again. So what if all of these things are coming from my mental and emotional love for a fictional man. It doesn’t make these feelings any less real, nor the happiness that’s come as a result of it.

And whenever I meet someone for real, I will love them with the same fire from when I loved, and still will love Julian, and they won’t even be able to tell the difference. Because love is love, in all it’s forms.

[crvmsdecorum]

"ɪ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ."

( nina dobrev, 28, female, she/her) Have you seen MILENA WASHINGTON around ?  I hear they’re an CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATOR who can sometimes be VINDICTIVE & DEVIOUS. But I also heard they can be DIPLOMATIC & VENTURESOME, if you catch them on a good day. They’re usually hanging around THE PINT in their spare time. I sure hope they’re alright ! ( emma. )

tw: mentions of rape, tw: rape, tw: death, tw: torture, tw: murder, tw: blood. 

Meet Milena Zariyah Dashkov ; you and the citizens of Chicago know her as Milena Zariyah Dashkov Washington, I know mouthful but when someone addressees her by last name it is by her adopted surname. 

She was brought into the world on January 1st in the year 1992 to Evangelia Dashkov (nee Anderiko) and her husband Alexei Dashkov. Milena was their second born child and first born daughter. 

Due to her parents she is a mixture of both Bulgarian and Russian ancestry with being Jewish from both side of the family. Though her mother practiced the religion more so than Alexei did.   

The Dashkov family was a loving family. They had a white picket fence, various flowers blooming from Mrs. Dashkov’s garden, and occasionally the kids would be playing a sport out in the front. Sure they lived in the rough parts of Bulgaria but they wouldn’t trade it for the world. They did what they had to in order to make the small cabin a home. 

Though not long after turning five is when tragedy struck the family home. The ball hadn’t been dropped long into the New Year and Milena was already tucked into her bed for the night when gun shots were heard outside. She doesn’t remember much, but Milena remembered be in her pregnant mother’s arms as she watched her older brother, Adrian (9) and their father assemble what little weapons that was stashed throughout the house. 

Evangelia had faith in her family and that faith in her God that they will survive even though her gut said otherwise. She ended up tucking Milena safely away in an air vent that gave her the perfect view of her little family with her mother ordering the young girl to stay quiet no matter what. Just as she was going to ask her mother if it’s safe to get out is when the front door got busted down by a small group of milita members (three) from the Bulgarian People’s Army -- or at least former members. 

She watched as they shot Adrian point blank with no warning before tearing through the house. It took two of the men to disarm her father who put up to a fight. They ended up tying him to the chair after they’ve stripped him of his shirt and Evangelia? What they were about to do to her was far worse. 

Milena watched in horror as the three took turns in harming her mother, violating her in front of Alexei. Whenever her father would yell or anything one of the men would end up shutting him up with a hard punch though it kept on to the point they began to use other means in shutting him up. One of them ended up embedding a blade into Alexei’s thigh for ‘disrupting the pleasure’. 

‘Moeto Sladko’, is what Evangelia kept muttering through out it all before saying each time close your eyes. The men thought she was referring to Alexei but oh no, she was speaking soothing words to her daughter one last time. 

It was too late though for what Milena had witnesses is something that will stick with her for as long as she can remember. By the time the sun rose the men were gun and her family? They were dead. 

It wasn’t until about two days later when a Priest with some grave diggers came into the family home. Milena recognized him and ran straight to the man of God. He held onto the orphan and didn’t care she was stained in the blood of her fallen loved ones. Not long after the Priest had brought Milena to safe grounds he placed the orphan up for adoption with the Nuns looking after her. 

Let me tell you it was a long and hard year for Milena. Food was scarce among the children and rations at one point for a while went down to only once a day. The orphans she was among were like Milena -- war orphans. She didn’t think she would open up to others after what she went through, but many of them had went through similar things and they all bonded over it. In time the three Milena became closest too were like family to her. 

One day that all changed. It was a sunny warm afternoon and all the children were playing outside and of course all of them were on their best behavior as they heard several couples from America were looking to adopt. This was the Priest way of protecting the children and give them a future outside of the country. Milena? She honestly didn’t care for she had her own little family with three other wayward orphans. 

As if fate were to have it though, Milena caught the eyes of a very wealthy couple that hailed from Chicago: Mr. & Mrs. Washington. How you ask? Simple. They watched the woman trample a school yard bully for stealing her ‘younger brother’s’ rations and became heartfelt even more so when they witness her give the younger orphan her ration as well. That is what they wanted in a child and they got her.

Oh let me tell you the transition from Bulgaria to America was harsh on Milena and to make it worse she knew very little English. When arriving to the Washington home she met several other children there. Milena didn’t know how to act in this new country and often kept telling herself their language was funny. She tried her best to learn the language on her own but eventually the frustration of it and the tutor the family hired made it only worse for her which pushed Milena to grow increasingly quiet. So quiet she basically went fell blown mute. 

It wasn’t until about four months into this is when Sloan one day sat down with the wayward orphan and tried to talk to the confused little girl. She even went so far as in buying a Bulgarian dictionary and butchered Milena’s native tongue by asking if she can teach her English. What was her response you say? The way she spoke it made Milena giggle -- an actual one and it beyond shocked Sloan. She told the oldest Washington she would like that before saying leave the Bulgarian language to the professionals. 

This was the first time Milena welcomed anyone of her new family into her heart and it would be a while before she did again. 

Fast forward to a few years later to where Milena is 9 years old and Zoe had recently become adopted into the family. She was still quiet though she would hold small conversations in English but Milena still had a long way to go in learning it. 

Many believe it was Zoe that made Milena open up more and fully embrace learning the English language which part of that is true, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Since she adoption the Bulgarian had been sending letters to the Priest that rescued her (of course writing in Bulgarian) and as if it were a coincidence, a letter arrived a week after the new kid and the Man of God held up a promise he made to Milena that night. Her family’s murderers were dead and now properly her family can be at peace. This...this right here is what lead to Milena fully opening up to her new family. Eventually she became Zoe’s partner in crime and oh the trouble those two got in together all while Zoe helped Sloan teach the full English language. 

Over the next few years Milena had blossomed into an intelligent young woman who had a thing for parties but managed to keep straight A’s throughout it all. When it came time to graduation she made not only the top ten percent but Valedictorian as well. On the night of her speech she did something unethical but it had to be done.  “This paper lantern you see here before you all is for the Seniors who tragically passed away back in December. It is also for those who cannot be here with the graduates today to see this milestone in our lives such as my own biological family who suffered a terrible fate when I was but a child. This paper lantern is for all of them.” Many people were shocked that she had done something like this for she ended up having a reputation of a party girl with a forever resting bitch face. Milena showed to her class that she did have a heart despite it being buried under the thick ice she grew from the things she went through.

After graduation Milena decided to attend Harvard where she gotten an acceptance letter from the school. She didn’t want to leave home but Milena made a promise to keep in touch with all the Washingtons.

Let us flash forward to Milena being about to become 21 years old and having the time of her life. It’s a New Years Eve party on campus and she was beyond drunk. How can she not? It was about to be her birthday and like her fifth birthday this one will be one she won’t forget and it isn’t because she is now legal to drink. Milena became a victim of a date rape drug (GHB). She doesn’t remember much of that night which amnesia is a side effect of it sadly. Not wanting to stain the Washington name and feel like a burden, Milena kept quiet about the whole ordeal when she went home not long after. 

While she was with her family Milena came through and remembered who it was behind this horrible fate. Ending her trip early in seeing her family the Bulgarian flew back to her college and she waited. During all of this she switched her career and went into their Criminal Justice program and oh how she thrived in there. It is what lead her to becoming a CSI Investigator. Through this and learning how to cover her tracks Milena used her connections in Bulgaria thanks to the Priest and a week prior to her graduating the man responsible suffered a ‘terrible’ fate. 

Despite all the trauma she endured, Milena still did her best to look on the bright side of things but its hard. To the world and those who isn’t in her heart nor family are lead to believe she is a cold hearted person with sarcastic remarks -- that’s only the half of her personality. With her family she will do anything for them and risk it all.

After graduating college with a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice, Milena wanted to excel even more and starting studying aboard in Barcelona where eventually she got a Masters. She ended up landing a job as a CSI and during her time there she went back to school to earn an associates degree in Linguistics. She might as well get paid for the languages she has come to learn. 

Unknown to her at the time Milena caught the eye of two government agencies: CIA & FBI. They both wanted her to come on board for them and be a Special Agent in Linguistics and even sweeten the deal when she claimed she enjoyed her work in Science even more so. She thought long and hard about the deal, I won’t lie and Milena honestly thought about taking the deal until one night she had a horrible nightmare. The nightmare involved the Washingtons dying a bloody death much like her biological family. This made her pack up her bags in Barcelona, decline both offers and bought a one way ticket to Chicago. 

Personality;; Milena can be a cold person and in fact she is especially with her RBF, but she can be a caring and kind person also. Though to see that side? You’d have to be someone that is a Washington or someone she cares about and that circle is very small. You can usually find Milena giving sarcastic comments and at times be a smart ass, she doesn’t even feel sorry about it. She can also be very blunt and most of the times it comes off harsh. 

Fun Facts;; Milena is fluent in several languages (Bulgarian, English, French, Spanish, Russian and Italian). She learned Bulgarian and Russian from her parents, French and English from the Washingtons, and learned the other two languages during her time in Spain. Though she is still learning Italian. 

Wanted Connections;; enemies, former flings, friends, law enforcement buddies, former flame(s), etc. If you think Milena fits it then I am down!

[thelittlestcheshire]

Hello! I’m Katie, and this is my muse Ches. If any of you were in Luxor over the summer, you know this pain in the ass so I’m probably gonna do a quick “here’s where this brat was” recap at the bottom, along with anything I’ve changed between that Ches and this Ches! I’m really excited to be back, and I’m really looking forward to roleplaying with everyone.

I also have the habit of writing crazy long bios when I do bother to write them so there’s a tl;dr for that, also some wanted connections at the bottom. I love plotting so if you ever have any ideas, feel free to come excited scream with me here or on Discord! So without further ado ♥

TWs:  Gun Violence / Murder / Death (not by Ches), Blood, Abuse (Relationship), Cheating, Mental Illnesses, Drugs/Alcohol, Overdoses (also not by Ches / did not result in death)

Is that HAILEY CHESHIRE “CHES” ELSWOOD? Wow, they do look a lot like KATHERINE MCNAMARA. I hear SHE is a SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN year old SENIOR who originally attended CARNIFEX Academy. Word is they are an ARISTOCRAT student. You should watch out because they can be IMPULSIVE and STUBBORN, but on the bright side they can also be ENERGENIC and LOYAL. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself. [KATIE, 23, EST, SHE/HERS]

Last Edit: 8/26/2020

♥ basics; Full Name: Hailey Cheshire “Ches” Elswood Preferred Name: Ches Elswood Age: 18 Birthday: July 19th, 2002 at 03:22 am Sexual Orientation: Biromantic bisexual Relationship Status: It’s complicated ( @ Elliot ) Occupation: Student Nationality: American [with French dual citizenship] Ches’s Car

♥ classes;

Anthropology

Shakespearean Studies

Linguistics

Latin

Music

Advanced Sociology

Advanced Psychology

World History

♥ extracurriculars;

National Honor Society

Theater Club (Actor)

Concert Band (Piano)

♥ background; Place of Birth: Paris, France Hometown: Manhattan, New York, New York Health Issues: Borderline Personality Disorder and PTSD, not that she likes to admit to it, however. She’s also highly allergic to the Perciformes family of fish (tuna, mackrel, perch , and bass). While she’s okay with the  salmoniformes (Salmon and Trout), she really doesn’t touch fish outside of... literally salmon she makes herself since that’s all she trusts ok. ((Shellfish is fine though) Traumas: Watching her mother die (mugging gone wrong/shot to death)

♥ physical; Face Claim: Katherine McNamara Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Red Height: 5′3 ½” (not at fc height quick side note) Weight: 115 lbs Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: Mole above her belly button, a few moles on her thighs, freckles and face moles. (Face Ref 1, Face Ref 2,  Body Ref 1, Body Ref 2) . She also has a tattoo now.

♥ zodiac;

Tropical

Sun: Cancer Moon: Scorpio Mercury: Cancer Venus: Virgo Mars: Leo Jupiter: Cancer Saturn: Gemini Uranus:  Aquarius Neptune: Aquarius Pluto: Sagittarius Lilith: Aries N Node: Gemini

Placidus Orb

I ASC: Gemini II: Cancer III: Cancer IV: Leo V: Virgo VI: Libra VII: Sagittarius VIII:  Capricorn IX: Capricorn X MC: Aquarius XI: Pisces XII: Aries

♥ relatives;

Father’s Full Name: Edward Valentine Elswood Father’s Status: Alive Father’s Occupation: CEO/Owner of a multi-billion dollar luxury goods conglomerate  (net worth of 50+ Billion in fact - in turn, Elswood kids do NOT bat an eyelash at prices) Mother’s Full Name: Julia Andrieux Elswood Mother’s Status: Deceased [shot by a mugger on the twin’s 8th birthday] Future Step-Mother: Rebekah Carroll (soon to be Elswood, watch this space lol) Step-Mother’s Occupation:  Siblings: 6 brothers and sisters (family page here) Elswood-Carroll Children Oldest to Youngest:

Logan Elswood (24)

Jamie Elswood (22)

Emmett Elswood (19)

Cade Carroll (19)

Jonah / Ches Elswood (TWINS)

Flynn Carroll (16)

Effie Elswood (14)

Ella Elswood (10)

She also has a niece named Isabella (Belle) who’s now almost 8 months (DOB: 07/10/2019). Belle belongs to her oldest brother, Logan (and Belle’s mother isn’t in the picture).

This is a link to the Elswood family page if you’d like to know more about her family.

♥ relationships; Ex-Significant Other(s): Probably a handful of people tbh, hit me up if you want this as a WC Reason for Separation: Stuff not working out, Ches getting bored before she got attached, so on - she’s a flirt tbh, it takes her wanting to get invested for her to stay Current Significant Other: N/A

♥ misc;

Hobbies and Talents: Ches’s main hobbies are playing piano and archery (she forever misses her bow and arrow while she’s at school), as these are also the two things that are best at calming her down. She has an intense love for acting, so it’s not uncommon for her to be one of the first people to sign up for auditions, and she tends to sing a lot so musicals are truly her shit. It’s not uncommon to see her in the library, reading a book late a night.

However, a talent she doesn’t exactly own up to often is her talent for forgeries and lockpicking. While she doesn’t use these skills as they’re intended for often, she does tend to practice them a lot, so she’s not rusty for when they are actually useful.

Pinterest Section // Musings Tag // Playlist (it’s an in general Ches playlist tho)

Ches speaks English and French fluently, her mother was born and raised in Paris so she learnt them both at the same time

DO NOT CALL HER HAILEY unless you really want to end up on her shit list, it’s her biggest pet peeve, she will glare at you for hours.

She’s the mom friend if your mom friend also goes “I HAVE THE BEST IDEA” and drags you into trouble. Literally, the one who frets over you and proceeds to get you into trouble.

This muse does what she wants, I just write it down I apologize always for her

Doesn’t really... seriously date too much because of past situations (Her older brother slept with the first person she truly loved) and she tries to avoid falling in love

That being said platonic I love yous are her shit, she loves her friends a LOT

Ches is very serious about her studying (and wanting to be among the best of the best because - this girl has Ivy league college dreams and she has no intents on fucking those up), so like expect her to do shit like read an entire textbook at the start of school and study at midnight when her insomnia is kicking her ass.

She’s a bit of a closet nerd - if you look under her bed she has a chest of comic books, she’ll just lie if you ask her about them

Ches left Luxor due to a family emergency in October, it was a really hard decision (and it was a really hard decision to come back). She is just now coming back to school.

She got her tattoo while she was away from school, using a forged note of parental consent in New Jersey.

♥ bio;

TWs: Gun Violence, Murder, Death, Blood, Abuse (Relationship), Cheating, Mental Illnesses

Growing up as an Elswood means two things, you have a lot of siblings and a lot of money. Her parents had decided to raise their children in Manhattan, New York, where they could keep a close eye on their multi-billion dollar conglomerate. Her mother, Julia, would take them on trips constantly too - when she wanted to get the children away from the hustle and bustle of the city they’d go to their vacation home upstate, or their private island, or even to visit their family in Paris. At that point in life, Ches was happy. She had a solid group of friends, she had the best friend she could ever imagine having in the form of her twin brother, she had a loving and warm family, and she had a parent who would tell her no.

When she thinks back to her life before the incident, it feels like a completely different story. A fairytale even, perfect and happy in every way compared to her life now. However, it wouldn’t last, after all, fairy tales didn’t exist and reality was a much crueler mistress. One could say Lin-Manuel Miranda described it best; “life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It takes and it takes and it takes.”

Everything changed on her eighth birthday when her mother took her out shopping to get a present for twin brother Jonah at Palisades Mall. A man came up with a gun while they were in the parking lot and asked for all of their money. Julia Elswood compiled but she made one mistake, the simple utterance of “Cours, Ches” as she gave the man her purse.

Ches might have gotten out of the event alive, but not she was not unscathed. Julia Elswood was pronounced dead when medics finally arrived on the scene, her blood coating her daughter’s hands and clothing from Ches’s attempts to stop the bleeding. She might have survived the event without physical harm but she was never the same child she was before after that.

One day she had an intact family, the next day the Elswoods were in ruin. Her father completely shut himself out from the family, only coming out for birthdays and holidays. Her oldest brother stepped up as their parental figure, first starting out with homeschooling before he eventually dropped out to ensure his siblings were getting as much of his time as they possibly could. He tried his hardest to make the loss of their mother easier on the younger girls especially, given how young they were at the time. She helped him with the girls as much as she could (and overtime she slowly started filling the role as their second parent). Because of how busy the younger Elswood children kept him, sometimes Logan didn’t have the time to comfort Ches when she woke up in the middle of the night, haunted by their mother.

That was when Emmett stepped in. It wasn’t uncommon for him to sleep on her floor so he’d be there when she woke up terrified out of her mind, and he was there when she just eventually stopped sleeping like people tended to. Over time she realized that Jonah and her weren’t truly two peas in a pod the way they used to be, that Emmett was the only Elswood who truly got her. He wasn’t perfectly normal either, his thoughts and feelings were flawed like hers.

In a family that made her feel so broken at times, Emmett was a saving grace - a reminder she wasn’t alone.

Going to school in Carnifex was an easy decision when you felt so alone at home, at school she found a close group of people she loved and cared about - she felt less alone and less like her family were judging her, and when the feeling came up - she could always toss herself back into her schoolwork and pretend that maybe, just maybe, she was just a normal kid living a normal boring life. Family issues easily bred vulnerability though, and it was that vulnerability that was exploited not long before she was set to start Carnifex.

Long-distance relationships weren't’ supposed to be easy, but when she fell in love for the first time. At the time, she had thought she was as fucked up as she could ever be, that at this point she was just focused on healing the wounds her mother’s death had left in therapy and after that, everything would be fine. James Ruth quickly showed her how mistaken she had been, even now she doesn’t like thinking about everything he had done to her. She doesn’t discuss everything he had put her through in the time they were together nor does she have any intentions on truly discussing the worst of the abuse she endured while dating him and she was home - even in therapy. It did, however, have an effect on her, it made her terrified of truly falling in love with somebody again.  (Note: James is also a massive reason why she doesn't get along with her brother Jamie, the two Elswood siblings never recovered from Jamie sleeping with Ches’s boyfriend. It causes a good deal of tension in the Elswood home but Ches can’t just forgive him, her brother never even apologized for his actions, she wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t hurt her because her father wanted them to get along for his own sake. They were on the rocks before this and afterward, the tension just got a whole lot worse.)

Going back to Carnifex her sophomore year was a key factor in helping Ches get away from her relationship, and it became as much of a home for her than her actual home was the longer she attended. Sure, she still misses her younger sisters, she misses Emmett and Camellia, and she misses her friends in the city. She also dislikes just how restricted she truly is when it comes to Instagram and trying to grow her influence while she attends Carnifex. Networking had to wait until she was home and sometimes she questions why she decided boarding school was a good idea. And then Ches looks at her friends, at the education she’s receiving, and all the fond memories she’s developing. Carnifex, and now Luxor, was well worth the fear of missing out she feels. 

If you had asked her at the start of this school year, she would have told you nothing could have gotten her to leave school for any amount of time her senior year, she had spent the whole summer at Luxor (even after hearing about her baby niece, that meant a lot) - she finally settled in, she couldn’t imagine anything happening that would cause her to leave the academy. And then, on October 16th at two am in the morning, she got a phone call from Ella. Their oldest brother, Logan, had overdosed. While his drug addiction had never been a secret to the family, his relapse had been a surprise to Ches. Her brother had sworn up and down he was fine, that everything at home was okay. Going back to New York was a no brainer, her family needed her - and she needed them.

Logan, who’d been the closest thing to a parent she had since her mother died, almost died - she almost lost all the parental figures she ever knew. It was hard, getting adjusted back to New York City, she threw herself into her school work and did her best to fill the shoes Logan left open as he went through rehab, and then, adjusted back to being home. While she stayed in touch with the people she had at Luxor, she wouldn’t come back until her brother way okay - until she felt safe about leaving him with his daughter and their siblings without her as a backup. Coming back to school this time was really hard on her, the homesickness is worse than ever and she’s constantly trying to check in on her siblings (because mom!Ches is truly in full force and she’s trying to get it back down) but she’s glad to be back. She’s missed being at Luxor, a lot, so she’s glad to be back.

TLDR / quick important notes bio recap for rereads:

Ches’s mother was murdered on her 8th birthday in front of her

She was raised by her oldest brother, Logan, and is NOT close to her father really. She also helped raise her younger sisters and is very protective of them.

The Elswood she is closest to is Emmett, Jonah and her grew apart after her mother’s death.

Ches’s first real love was James (an NPC), they dated (entire)Freshman-(mid)Sophomore years, it was abusive (much more than Ches will ever discuss unless she gets majorly close to someone and they HAVE to know (cough still hasn’t happened though cough)) and Ches is now terrified of falling in love again. Her messy as fuck relationships & exes all start after this point.

Ches’s history at Luxor is pretty much in-tact, changes will be below in another section!

Ches left Luxor because of her oldest brother, Logan, overdosing. He is alive but she stayed in NYC until he was out of rehab / stabilized in order to take care of her younger siblings and her niece, Belle.

Notable Luxor Notes:

Anything relating to Thomas (for those of you who know what I mean) really hasn’t occurred, so if you mention it she’ll just be like “who?” This seems like the easiest course of action given how things were left off

Other muses of note I’m not going to account for are: Asher (more will be added as needed).

Ches isn’t a member of the Churchill Circle (I’m leaning towards was never one either just because the reasons she joined are no longer a factor so... she probably wouldn’t have ever joined)

If anyone wants to change history and/or keep it intact, feel free to dm me to let me know and I’ll update this accordingly. 

Wanted Connections:

Exes (when Ches dates it’s not for long, but she’s definitely the type to be like “I’ll go out with you” if asked and then... dump you if she thinks she’s getting too attached. So her exes are either on good terms, neutral terms, or they probably dislike her a lot)

Former friends with benefits - while Ches is no longer taking on new ones because of Elliot (and is starting to wean off her current ones), I’m always willing to headcanon past things!

FRIENDSHIPS  (I am weak af for a good friendship plot, never be afraid to be like “hey can our muses be friends” the answer is legit always yes)

Enemies (Ches can... be a lot so it’s not unlikely she’s pissed people off ok)

[salmonthestoryteller]

All About Isobel

I’ll admit Isobel is my fav character.  I honestly didn’t expect that to happen.  She definitely wasn’t among my fav in the OG series, nor at the start of the book series. (Though, like RNM the book series version seems to be winning me over.)  Somewhere along the line, though, I was like - yah, nope, everybody else move a slot down, Isobel is claiming my top character spot.

If there’s one thing I love about Isobel it is how important Max and Michael are to her.  It seems to be why some people hate her.  To me, though, it’s one of the reasons I adore her character.  These are her brothers and if you hurt them she will end you.  The world can freakin’ burn, she is going to protect these two with all she has in her.

It isn’t surprising either, and I want to back up and look at her backstory first, especially with everything we learned in the last two episodes of the season.  So, yes, considering her plot involving both the Drifter and Noah, fair warning that some of the content may be triggering.

So there is at least two instances where Isobel is able to call out to Michael, one shared with Max, while completely unconscious.  We know Max and Isobel have their twin connection which Max describes as a “warm presence” with him all the time.  But the fact that she called to Michael twice shows that at some level she has to be telepathically connected to him as well.

They emerge from the pods at age seven, and are found by the highway.  From there they end up in a group home. Now, to my understanding a group home is not a foster family.  It is the modern day equivalent to an orphanage, with several adults looking after a group of children.  From there they are adopted by the Evans almost right away.  They still aren’t even speaking yet when they go with them. Max and their mother discuss the fact that it took them months to talk. And that when they did, they did so immediately with no trouble.  As if they’d been waiting to learn the whole language before speaking.

Michael, as we know, is left behind and doesn’t return to their lives until they are eleven.  However, Isobel probably could sense that he was missing the whole time.  She couldn’t say who was missing, because they hadn’t had words or names when they were separated.  She couldn’t say “Michael is missing” - she just knew someone was.  This is probably where Isobel’s fear of losing those she cares about first stems from.  An experience she couldn’t even fully explain at the time.

I have no doubt that when they found each other again at eleven, it was one of the best days of their lives to Isobel.  Because, to her, Michael is her brother. There’s no ifs in that to Isobel.  Michael says they aren’t family, Max tells Michael he isn’t his family in a moment of anger, but to Isobel the fact that Michael is her brother is indisputable. It’s plain fact.  It’s there in the way she treats him, in how she is willing to rely on him and trust him, and even how she speaks.  Not even the big statements like, “We’re a family.”  In small ways like how she refers to Max in 1x03 as “Our brother.”

Fast forward a few years.  (In 1x06 I thought it was their thirteenth birthday as it was 2004 and they are said to be 17 in 2008, but in 1x12 Max says Isobel was fourteen so I guess if their “birthday” was summer it's three years later?)  It seems like - compared to Max - Michael protected Isobel much more from the abuse he was suffering.  It doesn’t seem as if she has an understanding of just how bad things were.  The look on her face when he tells her the story of always going to Foster Homestead Ranch and his reasons why are further proof.  Isobel knew he wasn’t as lucky as them, but she was at a loss at how bad he truly had it.  How alone he truly felt.  Which I think was on purpose on Michael’s part.  It’s also why she’s probably closer to their mother than Max was.  She doesn’t seem to harbor the same resentment to their parents that Max felt for them not taking Michael in.  I think she’s closer to Ann because when she thinks she’s dying she tells Max, “We should call Mom.”  Not their parents. “Mom.”

However, Ann still says they both kept her at arms length to Max.  That they, not him but they, didn’t let her be a mom.  I don’t think this was true as much when they were younger.  I’m guessing the separation for Isobel and Ann occured when Isobel hit puberty.  Because - think about this for a moment - Isobel is an alien.  She knows this.  She knows she has powers others don’t.  That her biology isn’t quite the same. (Acetone, hello.)  And she had to go through puberty with not only no grown woman to talk to it about, but not even another girl her own age.  She couldn’t ask her mom if certain things happening were normal or not - because there was no way of knowing what was alien “normal.”  And if it turned out it wasn't human normal, and she brought it up she risked exposing them. Puberty is a pretty sucky thing already, and Isobel probably felt twice as isolated during it because she just damn didn’t know what was or wasn’t normal for their species.  In that Max and Michael at least had each other.  I doubt Isobel felt comfortable talking to her brothers about periods, cramps, etc.

And in the middle of this whole very isolating confusing time for her comes the Drifter.  It’s pretty clear what his intentions were when he grabbed her, though it is not made clear how far he got.  Isobel is still clothed, so I don’t think he raped her, but I have no doubt he touched her before Max and Michael got here.  And remember something else - Isobel is a telepath.  A telepath who they already knew could make others do things.  If she at all tried to touch the Drifter’s mind there’s no saying what was said in Mindspace to her.

Worse, this is when her telepathic scream brings her to Noah’s attention. Between the Drifter’s attack and witnessing Max kill him, Isobel shuts down.  The trauma is too much for her to handle, and she retreats inside her mind.  Noah takes the opportunity to connect to her that night, and he never lets go of that connection until his death.  Max said that she continued to have black outs after the attack, and Noah mentions how that allowed him to see through her eyes.  How soon he was able to start to use her body to move around is unclear.  And we are also unclear on what all influences Noah had on her otherwise.

Noah speaks of their connection several times.  We know he can control her actions when she is unconscious or withdrawn into her mind, but how deep did that connection run?  Max is concerned about Liz’s ability to consent when his mark is on her.  Noah has had his mind connected to Isobel’s since she was fourteen.  We cannot say how much that affected her - if she ever had complete autonomy after that night or if a part of her was always affected by Noah’s feelings and desires.

However, one thing is very much true - and that’s that after that night Isobel didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t Max or Michael for years.  There was never a time when the people around her weren’t listed as “potentially dangerous”.  We see that in how she reacts to everything, both in her teen years and even as an adult.  She kept everyone else at arms length.  Through barbs; through a mask of perfection.  The reason Isobel didn’t care about using her powers as a teen?

Because as long as other people were doing what she wanted she was safe.

This is someone who never feels safe.  Hasn’t been able to regain that feeling since that night in the desert.  The only place she felt remotely at ease was around Max and MIchael.  Isobel is clearly supposed to be the Queen Bee in high school, yet she goes to prom with her brothers.  Why?  Because Isobel didn't trust anyone else.  It’s why she kept withdrawing into herself and having blackouts as graduation approached.  If Max and Michael left - how was she ever going to feel safe? She had devoted her life to her brothers, because she knew she could trust them.  They would protect her, no matter what.  They’d already proven it.  Everybody else was suspect.

Only now her brother were becoming suspect.  If they were going to leave her to fend for herself, what did she have left? It’s clear from her lash out, “What am I supposed to do?” that Isobel had no plans right then for her future.  She doesn’t know what she’s going to do once Michael and Max leave - she never once mentions college herself.  And, actually, it seems her brothers have no idea either.  During the argument all Max says is “Live your life.”  There’s nothing there about anything Isobel might want or suggested she would do after graduation.  If Max and Michael had this argument, that line would have involved, “What are you talking about? You’re leaving for Albuquerque/You’re running off to Europe.”  For Isobel the best Max has to offer is “Live your life"?

This is actually where the fact that Roswell is supposed to be a small town probably plays a big part.  Because Isobel is the only girl among the three aliens.  It’s not surprising that in a small town Isobel’s lack of plans to go to college or pursue a career is never brought up.  The notion of girls staying home with the parents, working local jobs or simply getting married is still quite common.  From what we’ve seen, it’s actually what happens to Isobel after graduation, though that hasn’t completely been made clear yet.

One big thing did happen first, though. The murders.  Things change that night for Isobel in a very big way.  Until now Isobel has relied on her brother’s for protection.  After the cover up Isobel finds herself in a new role - One of protector.

To her, Michael may have killed Rosa, Jasmin, and Kate - but he is very much not to blame for it.  Think of the story Michael tells her.  He got into a fight and his hand was smashed.  He says he got drunk, but it's not like Michael could have gone to a hospital.  What is the only painkiller they have? Acetone.  To her, Michael was medicating himself because he had no way to receive the care he needed.  Then, drunk on the acetone, he ran into the other car and lost control of his powers.  He was drunk and in pain and alone and he lashed out to protect himself.  She may believe Michael killed them, but she doesn’t blame him.  If anything, she probably blames herself for blacking out and not being there when he needed her.

Then, a few days later, Max starts talking about telling Liz the truth.  Think about what this looks like from Isobel’s perspective.  Max is choosing some crush over Michael.  Michael, who buried the Drifter for him and kept his secret all these years.  He’s literally going to get Michael arrested, maybe even get them all killed if they find out what he is, because he cares about some girl more than their brother.  Is it any wonder she decides to go into Liz’s mind and tell her to stay away from Max?

However, I feel it's hinted at that Max kinda broke down after Liz left.  Isobel mentions something that sounds like a reference in a conversation with Michael in 1x02:

“Max is shutting me out. I thought maybe you could talk to him.  Something is wrong with him, Michael. And when that happened the last time, you were the only one he would open up to.”

I think seeing how using her powers on Liz affected Max really drove home what her powers were capable of to Isobel.  She’d never used her powers against her brothers in such a way.  I don’t think she ever used her powers to negatively affect those she cared about.  Others were free game, but anything that could hurt those she loved was off limits. And this is Max, her person as she calls him to Noah, and her using her powers has hurt him.  She tells Michael, “I don’t do that anymore.”   While it’s unclear when she stopped, my guess is that it was after she used them on Liz.

Then, while we can’t be certain how soon it happened, she met Noah.  She probably felt an instant trust in him because - hello - Noah was in her literal head.  She didn’t know why she felt safe with him, but he was the first person aside from Max and Michael who made her feel that way.  So she dated him, fell in love, got married.

All of this is disturbing enough, because essentially Noah has been grooming Isobel since she was fourteen and then he seeks her out physically and marries her once he gets out of the pod.  But what also bothers me is we don’t see any hint that Isobel is romantically with anyone else in the past.  She teases Max about Tess, Michael mentions dates limiting options, but Isobel is not shown with anyone.  The only feelings of desire Isobel experiences that we are shown is Noah’s for Rosa through her flashbacks, and her and Noah’s relationship.  There is literally nobody else that is even mentioned.  Every other character we get some mention of an ex or potential love interest, even Rosa.  But Isobel has only Noah.

Over the same time period, she witnessed Max and Michael’s friendship fall apart with no idea why.  She didn’t understand what was happening between them.  This was her family and now they were barely speaking.  She had her new position, though, and she wasn’t going to let them down.  She was going to be the one who was strong; the one who protected them and looked after them.  She devoted herself to that, and despite some bumps along the way, I don’t think she felt she failed at it.  She never knew Max was unhappy - he didn’t seem to show that to her after he got his act together.  She says as much to Noah in 1x03.  She thought Michael let his life fall apart because he’d killed three girls and couldn’t forget.  She tried to be there for him - she never cut him out of her life.  She had no idea how to make things better, but she made sure she was there if he needed her. We know this because Noah doesn’t just list Max when Isobel says she had something to take care of - he lists Michael too.

Then Liz comes back into town, and everything changes.  It’s little wonder she views Liz as a threat. Remember, Isobel never feels safe - everyone is a threat.  Liz most of all - Max almost turned on Michael and her for Liz once before.  Max was devastated after losing her the first time and now it's going to happen again. And while people like to say Isobel is overprotective and out of line for constantly lecturing Max about her - is she wrong?  Liz is using Max’s feelings because she’s searching for the truth, Liz does want revenge for Rosa. Liz's history doesn't look like someone she would trust with her brother's happiness. 

Isobel isn’t just using her powers for kicks.  She goes after Liz to protect her family.  She practices at Maria’s bar because she thinks she needs to strengthen her abilities.  If she fails - how will she ever keep Michael safe now that Liz knows an alien killed Rosa?  She isn’t thinking there’s some big secret to why Maria hates her - she probably thinks the reason is small and petty. She doesn’t know Maria.  Then everything becomes strange - because why did Rosa hate her?  Rosa was two years older than them - she was long gone from high school by the time Isobel would have been the head of Roswell High’s Mean Girls.  It makes no sense - she almost never  interacted with her.  Why would someone hate her she didn’t even know?

It’s no wonder the “truth” about the murders affects Isobel so deeply.  She’s spent ten years viewing the deaths as a terrible accident. Now they are murders - actual murders - that she herself committed.  And she doesn’t know why. She does know that for some reason Rosa hated her. But Rosa, Kate, and Jasmin weren't even a blip on her radar before the murders. Why would she suddenly kill them? She's spent her whole life afraid of others and now she can't even trust herself.

Then the flashbacks start after the cure. She has no reason to doubt them - they're her own memories. What's more is that they probably make sense to her.  There were probably days she was sick of the front she put on to keep others at a distance.  And here are these flashbacks saying she let down that guard with someone - with Rosa. And it seems like it was a wonderful thing - Rosa didn't let her down.  She was safe.  Maybe she even loved her? It's everything teen Isobel always wanted. She and Michael discuss it:

"I used to look in the sky when we were kids, and hope something up there would save me."

"I used to look around at the people of this town and hope for the same thing."

She feels invested in this now.  She had a close friend, the only truly close female friend she ever had as far as we see, maybe she even had a secret romance.  Then she finds out the horrifying truth that it was never her at all. She never had that friendship, and what's worse? Noah used her to attack an innocent girl. Just like she was attacked when she was fourteen. Only Rosa didn't have Max and Michael to save her.

Isobel's face off with Noah is painful because it truly is the worst betrayal imaginable.  Isobel doesn't let people close. Isobel doesn't trust. She did with Noah, when the truth is she never should have.  He was the one she should have been protecting herself from.

I am glad they gave us her final Mindscape conversation with Noah.  It may be a lie that she never loved him, but what truly mattered wasn't whether she loved him or not.  What mattered was facing him and letting him know he no longer had control of her.  She was done with him.

The season ends with Isobel exploding the picture frame with her mind. And while I'm excited to see her expand her powers, I am concerned for her in s2. The truth about Noah has already taken away one of her shelters. Losing Max? That is literally one of her greatest fears come to life.

In pursuit of feeling safe again - in protecting what she has left? There's really no saying what path Isobel might take.

[mysticsparklewings]

Blue Java Bananya

Well here's something I wasn't planning on making at all! This year certainly started off with a bang!, and not a good one, what with my drawing tablet going kaput on me. But at the very least, thanks to my brother I have a temporary solution. He was able to get his hands on a Surface Pro 3 through work, and after acquiring a stylus I've been working on adapting to it for the time being. It's taking a lot of getting used to, but I'd rather have to get used to this than have nothing at all until next century when I can afford a more proper replacement. Anyway. That whole fiasco just depressed and stressed me out to no end, among other life things. For my birthday, I was gifted a DVD of Bananya, a show about, you guessed it--banana cats like the one I've drawn here. I watched the whole thing (about 40 minutes, the episodes are pretty short) in one sitting, and for that time I was able to forget about everything that was worrying me and just enjoy some cute fruit kitties and simple fun. No over-the-top, save-the-world plot, no complicated character dynamics, no overcoming past trauma, just fun and cute. I knew about Bananya for a while, as a couple of years ago I got my hands on a couple of plushies before I even knew the show existed; I just thought the concept of cat-bananas with velcro peels was adorable. It was only later when I was wondering where they originated from that I found out there was a show, and subsequently that the only way to watch the English dub was on the DVD. (No offense to anyone that prefers subs over dubs; I just have a really hard time splitting my attention between what's happening and who's saying what and trying to read the text. Plus I have a hard time sitting down and just watching a show and doing nothing else; dubbed makes it possible for me to do other things and not have to stare at the screen and hope I can read fast enough.) Since I had bananas on the brain after that and it's a really simple and cute art style, I decided to test out getting accustomed to the Surface Pro that I'd draw a little Bananya OC of sorts. In the show, the bananyas are named more so for the cat part of their appearance, usually, but I wanted mine to stand out a bit more and I'm pretty sure that if they aren't already that eventually, all the default cat-pattern names are going to be canonically taken. So I went and I looked up strange/different types of bananas and discovered the blue java or "ice cream" banana, which has a bluish tint to the peel when it's young, and because of it's vanilla taste and creamy texture, it's actually offered as a healthier alternative to ice cream in areas where it's more commonly found (hence the nickname). And now I really want to try one but I haven't the foggiest idea where I'd find them here in the states. My other option was a red/pink variety and the show already has at least 2 bananyas with pink peels and one with pink on her head, so I took the blue banana and ran with it. (Although upon further inspection, I think the newer bananya episodes they're currently working on that haven't been dubbed yet feature one with a blue banana peel so I may still not be completely unique here despite my efforts.) I went with more of a teal/greenish-blue as opposed to a more "true" blue, since even in pictures while the blue java is definitely blue compared to the average banana, it's not blue like a blue raspberry candy is blue. They're actually a pretty pastel kind of almost mint color-- And suddenly, as I'm typing this I think I better understand why vanilla Tootsie Rolls come in a blue wrapper...are they based on these bananas?? Does anybody know?? --*ahem* As I was saying... The bananas, from what I understand, also lose/fade that blue color as they mature. Which would explain why I couldn't seem to find a picture of a peeled Blue Java banana that had that same pastel-colored peel. But I went with it anyway. (This is a show about banana cats, I don't think we have to be 100% scientifically accurate here.) I also added some black spots to the cat part of my bananya, as I haven't seen a white-with-black-spots one in canon material and I have a bit of soft spot for black-and-white kitties in particular. And while I have had second thoughts that maybe her name should be "ice cream bananya" instead (for the reasons I went over earlier about the real bananas), I ultimately when with Blue Java Bannaya, as it very on-the-nose like the other bananya names, and in a way I think the "java" part fits with the black spots. But that's mostly just because java makes me think of "java chip frappucino" from Starbucks, which makes me think of chocolate chips, which are usually dark spots in cookies...see where I'm going with this? Though on the other hand, the black and white also kinda makes me think of Oreos, which would tie-in with the ice cream thing because usually Cookies n Cream ice cream is made with Oreos or knock-off Oreos, so I suppose it would've been equally fair to name her "Cookie Bananya" or something... Eh, for now, she stays as Blue Java. Or just "Java" for short. It was pretty straight forward to draw her, as I mentioned that the bananya style is pretty simple. Dare I say minimal? The main struggles I had boiled down to the learning curve with the Surface Pro and the new stylus. The pen pressure, maybe obviously, isn't as good as I'm used to, and the disparity between the tip of the pen and where the cursor actually is is different, and I think there's a little bit of lag when I'm drawing but that might be more to do with me having the stabilizer turned up a bit higher than normal in trying to compensate for the other issues. Still, I was at least able to manage for something as simple as this. I am admittedly horrified at the prospect of one of my usual, more complex digital drawings though...learning curves and baby steps... I'm not happy about the tablet situation, but at least the bananya is cute so I can focus on that instead. I do sincerely hope I'm very wrong about how long I'm going to be using this new set-up for though, because the way things are going it's going to be a very long time before I have the option of a better alternative... ____ Artwork/Character © me, MysticSparkleWings I do not own Bananya ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[xdaughter-of-bloodyfacex]

Time knows no bounds

The summer before Elizabeth turned sixteen she reluctantly agreed to visit this family of hers in New Orleans. This Coven of witches in which until a year ago she had no idea she was part. After a few tests of Divination, Pyrokinesis, and Concilium, her distant cousin and Supreme Fiona Goode insisted that she come to their academy at least for the summer.

The idea of leaving Derry filled her with a heavy heart most of all there was a particular boy that could hardly remember a night in which they didn’t climb into one another’s windows to spend the night.

Stanley had been her best friend for years. The only person she found herself letting into the warped and tormented memories and trauma of her past. Yet, he didn’t leave. She might have been young but she knew she loved him. It was just hard for her to say - everyone she loved always hurt her in the end. Maybe that’s the reason she never told him about that summer and why she couldn’t tell him that the Coven had plans for her; what she could do? He knew she could heal minor cuts and invoke nasty blood curses on those who tried to hurt her friends, but she kept it at a minimum. He was too much of a rationalist to absorb everything that she was - the last thing she wanted was for him to be afraid of her.

That summer had changed her and opened her eyes to a world that most people couldn’t comprehend, and the things they were having her do. Testing her even though she was younger than most of the girls. She still woke up in cold sweat screaming from those times Fiona had her perform and test her for the seven wonders. Descensum was one of those so-called wonders, and even though she made it out from the netherworld, she remembers her hell so vividly it was like she was there again. Standing beside her father in their basement as he hands her the knife, urging her to cut into the flesh of a terrified tied up woman.

‘I’m not doing it...’ She’d protest only to have her father chuckle at her like she was five years old. It’s not bad after the first cut - then it feels good.’ As he proceeds to take her hand in his hand slice it through the unknown woman’s flesh. Seeing the light leave her eyes - she screamed while the voice of Oliver Thredson next to her mused You are my daughter. My legacy...’

When she was back home in Derry it was hard to explain to Stan why she woke like that every time. Not one to seek comfort or pity, she took it as a feat - here she was fifteen years old and was able to survive the most dangerous of the seven wonders. She had mastered how to find her way through hell and purgatory to reunite her spirit with her body. A few older ones weren’t so lucky and perished before her eyes.

While Robichaux was a place in which she found herself around others that have gifts like her. She found out that there had been many witches that made history - Anne Boleyn, Empress Josephine Bonaparte, Lilith, Morgan Le Faye, among others. She found out Marie Laveau was very much still alive and that the so-called White Witch was real and actually a member of a very famous seventies band. Then, there were times when even then she knew that she wasn’t like the rest. Not really; and her father wasn’t the only reason. The way that Fiona and Myrtle looked at her when she found a crushed hawk on the ground as they took a walk through the woods. Thinking of Stan and how much seeing this beautiful bird dead, the white-haired girl cradled it in her arms and just willed that its bones would heal, that its heart would beat and the blood would flow through its veins. Elizabeth hadn’t realized what she even did until she felt it peck at her fingers and she looked at it with a gaping mouth - it wasn’t just healed - she completely undid the damage that was done.

Then came the ability that had brought her to this current moment. Tempus Infinituum - Myrtle watched her in classes from the shadows with a look that she could only describe as fascination. One day after class which involves turning the color of a flower to what you willed, the red-haired matron pulled her aside. “Elizabeth, you have been excelling in every task we throw at you...” The words came casually. “It’s a pity we can’t convince you to stay here where you belong, with people who understand you...”

‘You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all...’ she thought but gave the woman a smile “Thanks but - I can’t - I can’t leave Derry...there’s...I won’t leave the family I made there...(I won’t leave Stan...)”

“Ah yes, that rather nice foster family...” Myrtle gave her a knowing look that only made her frown. “In any case, that’s not the reason I came to pester you, dear, I have been watching you and the things you have done. I believe your gift might involve the manipulation of time...”

Effie looked at her like she was crazy “Like being able to time travel - that doesn’t even sound real, even after everything I’ve witnessed here in this past month...”

“Technically it hasn’t ever been proven. It was an old Salem myth that proceeded back to a time I don’t know when. Those who have tried have died-“

Died. Well, that was a very forward way of putting things to the girl. Still, Elizabeth has never been one to care about taking risks that could get her killed. Stan was that voice of reason she listened to and he wasn’t there. “So I’m your test dummy?” The white-haired girl crossed her arms over her chest with an amused look on her face. Before Myrtle could sputter an excuse, Effie held up a hand “I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t something that Effie was sure she regretted or was glad that she did. Sitting in a bathtub fully clothed in candlelight while Myrtle chanted the words “Balneum Infinitum. Dona salui conductus...Tempus Infinituum" Over and over again until the water started to bubble and she was plunged into another time. A place the older witch wanted her to go. A mission to stop something that had happened nearly a hundred years ago. A cellar - a language she didn’t understand and a family about to be massacred. Young Anastasia Romanov crouched in the corner desperately trying to perform a protection spell on her and her family. Given the task of saving a fellow witch from the firing squad which only ended in failure and the girl emerging from the water screaming, blood pouring from her eyes and nose. She couldn’t leave them to die - she had to go back. She failed.

That’s not how myrtle saw it though and in secret this was performed many times. So much blood and pain and her body felt the after-effects but still, she persisted because failure wasn’t in her nature.

Soon enough it was time for school to begin in Derry and her sixteenth birthday. Coming back it was hard to separate what she had endured from the normal life she tried to lead there. She was haunted by what she wasn’t able to achieve as well as the words that Myrtle said the day she left.

“Fiona is growing weaker. It means a new Supreme is coming into her power - I wouldn’t get too comfortable with that life you have in Maine dear - we are positive the next Supreme is you...”

Not sure what the words meant, Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach and trapped in some sort of destiny she didn’t want a part of. Not if it meant leaving the only person she let herself love after her father.

In the presence of the losers, she was her old self if not a bit more reckless. The one person who really knew what went on in New Orleans was Richie who was basically the male version of herself. When she told him of what they made her do, especially the time travel - the boy was eager to see her do it.

One night when they were hanging out, he took her aside while the others were busy playing a game “You should show me that time travel thing you can do.”

“What? Why? I’d get all wet and it’s freezing outside.” The girl pointed out as the fall had flown by and they were in the midst of a freezing Maine winter.

“I want you to see what I’m going to be when I’m older like older. If I get the hell out of here...”

“Rich... I’ve only gone back in time - never in the future.”

The boy just shrugged “I think you can do it and if something happens I’ll pull you out okay?”

Glancing at the others who didn’t even realize they were gone, she looked back to the tall, gangly boy “With everyone here? What if something happens and they walk in and on I don’t know to see me doing a spell.”

Richie thought for a moment “Doesn’t Stan know?”

“Yeah, only a little bit. He doesn’t know everything I can do. You know he wouldn’t be able to process it and the others surely wouldn’t either.”

“Well it’s fucking hard for me to as well and to keep my mouth shut at the fact that one of my best friends is this powerful witch - it’s like your a superhero.”

“And they keep their identities secret. Besides word gets around - there’s already rumors from what I did to Greta...”

“That cunt deserved it...”

“Yeah, but you don’t think these backward old-timers weren’t thinking it strange how she started throwing up blood and convulsing at my feet? Yeah, it’s the 90’s but this place - Who knows if there would be a lynching squad...and I don’t want people looking at me like that...”

“Like what?”

“Terrified...”

After some more pleading, she reluctantly agreed and they snuck off upstairs; Richie with an arm full of candles from his parents' bedroom in his hands. Effie, taking one last glance at Stan who seemed to be looking around for her.

While Richie lit the candles, Elizabeth turned the water on and filled the bathtub, adding some ingredients she kept in her messenger bag into the water.

“Uh, you don’t have to ...like get naked do you?” He asked awkwardly.

“Fuck no.”. She retorted “Fully clothed, once again another misconception about witches - we don’t all strip naked and dance under the full moon.”

“Well, I didn’t fucking know...” Effie put a hand up to shush him as she took off her shoes and stepped into the tub, sitting down and crossing her arms pharaoh style against herself.

When the candles were lit, Richie turns the lights off and stood at the door. “Now what?”

“shh, I have to take myself to another place mentally.” Which caused the boy to roll his eyes. Then she began to chant the same chant Myrtle taught her “Balneum infinitum. Dona salui conductus...Tempus Infinituum" It didn’t take long this time for the air to change in the room and the candles to flicker wildly out of control. Out of instinct, Richie took a step towards her “Jesus fuck...”

She focused on the future and the friend standing lookout. Thinking of him as older, probably not wiser - older - like their parents' age. That was when the water began to boil and the candle flame intensified like kerosene was poured on them.

“Holy shit...” was the last words she heard- before she said the final “Tempus Infinituum...” and went under.

It was night time and she found herself standing outside of the Chinese restaurant in Derry. Time had passed - cars looked a lot cooler, but it didn’t give her much insight as to what she wanted Richie to find. If she was in Derry still, did that mean he got stuck here? Fuck - that would blow to tell him that. Then suddenly a group of people practically ran from the Jade in shock and fear. Her heart tugged at the sight of them because she knew - it was them. It was her friends. Snapping to her senses, Elizabeth ran and hid behind a car within the hearing range. They were upset and freaking out - It had come back. It was feeding again, killing. They didn’t want to be there but they made a promise. The white-haired girl heard the words “what the fuck does guess Stan couldn’t cut it mean?” and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She didn’t need to hear anymore - the drop in her stomach was apparent - Stan, her amazing Stan wasn’t in the realm of the living anymore. Feeling sick to her stomach, Effie poked her head up to look at the six and then she noticed it. Eddie - the neighbor boy who was the brother she needed to protect - he had a hazed halo surrounding him. Death was near and Eddie would soon join the boy she loved.

Suddenly the horror turned to anger and before she could control herself using transmutation, the white-haired girl found herself standing in the water of the barrens. “Come out here and show yourself you son of a bitch...” she yelled, hands clenching and unclenching in fury. She could feel the fire at her fingertips. ‘ It killed Stan, it killed Stan... Eddie...Georgie...all those children.”

She knew it was watching her, stupidly thinking she was prey.

“I call forth on the witches from the shade, those who came before me and died so that I may live and rise to power.” The wind began to pick up and that’s when she saw the clown standing on the water.

“You think you can stop me?” The drool dripped down its chin as it looked at her hungrily. “I am the eater of worlds and of children and what are you?”

“The witch who is going to end you for killing the only person I love...” Effie spat.

“Oh, You mean Stan? He was so weak and easy - just a little push and poof! He takes a bath and slits his wrists cause he knows he can’t beat me.”

The words stung and she faltered for a moment, then the anger rose up again as she began chanting “Turpis et infernos in terris pariunt. Et furniture verba haec locutus sum vobis...”

With her eyes didn’t leave the creature she could sense the fear it had in which she was doing so on instinct It lunged after her only to be burned when Elizabeth raised her hands turning the water into fire instantaneously.

It scampered back away from her “You...you wield the power of nature...it’s not fair it’s not so ...”

“You god damn right I am, and I’m coming back for you and you're going to burn in hellfire, so remember my name Elizabeth, descendant of Salem and child of Gaia, of Artemis, and Lilith will be the one to destroy you...”

She could feel herself fading back - she knew what her mission was. What she’d use her gifts for and she’d do it again and make it right - all if it meant she’d save him - save them all.

“What the hell is going on Richie?” She could hear Stan yelling but that was cut off as emerged from the water screaming bloody murder, her socks kept sliding but she couldn’t get out of that tub fast enough. Looking up at Stan and Richie, she could tell by the paled expression on their faces that blood was running from her eyes and nose. She was confused and incoherent and god did she feel like she was going to pass out, but hearing Stan’s voice, she looked up at him all she could think about was the fact that he was going to die. Not now, but that son of a bitch of a clown that tormented him for years would do him in. Not seeing his face, or his smile, his laugh. For the first time, she could recall she started crying as she practically leaped into his arms. She couldn’t tell him what was wrong and the way she clung to him for days afterward which was something that Stan definitely wasn’t used to.

All she could think about is that she needed to stop this. She had to warn him but not now, not at this age. She also had to kill that clown.

That was when she decided death or not she was going to go into the future again, this time before anyone got hurt and take care of it then and there.

(This is - well i don’t know what this is. It’s been in my head for days and I had to write it out)

That’s how she got here. Elizabeth didn’t necessarily have a guide book for doing this spell this way so when she found herself in a warmer climate that wasn’t Derry, she was beyond confused. Eventually, though, the white-haired girl found that she was in Atlanta, Georgia. It was a bit too close to Robichaux but at that point, she didn’t care. She was sent to this city for a reason. It was the beginning of 2017 which meant that she had time. She had to figure out what to do in the meantime so Elizabeth did the only logical thing. She went undercover and became a typical seventeen-year-old girl in 2017. It was a lot easier with magic in the mix. She went by Lizzie and aside from her mission, things weren’t that bad. Her father was long dead and there weren’t any witches coming to take her away to run their stupid coven.

It was a month and a half into her steak-out and honestly she still wasn’t sure as to how she was going to even tell an adult Stan that it would be coming back and that he’d be contacted by one of the other losers to go back. To tell him not to harm himself or to leave this place. That she’d kill it.

She figured he forgot all about her by now, for all she knew Fiona probably croaked and now she was heading the academy but someone else’s will but her own. Probably married with kids and some kind of job that totally fits him. That feeling left a hole in her stomach and even though she was a kid - she never thought of being away from him. It was part of the reason she didn’t go searching and instead tried to distract herself with this life she was playing currently.

It was one day in March that she was leaving the high school she went to downtown (because she had to blend in ergo school was a must), that she decided to wander down to the business section for the hell of it. It wasn’t like she wanted to go back to the motel she stayed in anyways. Her eyes were lowered to this newest gadget called an iPhone. Who would have known the future has such cool devices. Then there was this thing called youtube that she found herself obsessed with and these things called apps. That was when she bumped into someone and caught her phone just before it hit the ground. “Fuck, sorry man.” She replied but as she looked up her eyes widened in shock. There he was - only he was older and had reading glasses on. It was Stan. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew exactly who she was when he saw her. Everything seemed frozen at that moment and she wasn’t sure what to say. Did she tell him now and leave? It was still too soon, the moment wasn’t right. Elizabeth wasn’t sure when the last time he even has seen her. Was it the night she decided to perform Tempus Infinituum and come here to stop him?

Ignoring her feelings and how weird everything felt she blurted out the words “Look, if you get a call from Derry - don’t answer it and don’t do anything.”

@glassmenagerieofmuses

[defendersofaurita]

Title: Retrace III: Subjugation 

Author/Artist: AnchoredTether

Rating: M [graphic depictions of violence, major character death, dark themes]

Pairings: Plance [Pikelavar], Kallura [Thunderyun]

Series: Defenders of Aurita

Chapter: 14/?

Summary: Meklavar has a formidable secret. Pike has an objective for which he’s willing to kill. Despite their odds, they might have a chance of realizing their seemingly impossible desires if they fight for them together. Revelations are brought to light, quests align, and their hope lies in the power of a common cause.

Aurita is on the brink of desolation and it will require more than courage and sacrifice to save what is left. As the stakes continue to rise, what was once a fight for restoring a broken kingdom turns into a war far more sinister.

CH14 :: RETRACE III : SUBJUGATION

][ CHAPTER WARNINGS ][ This flashback chapter is all about Pike's family during their time in slavery. As to be expected, this chapter has very dark themes including subjugation, violence, abuse, death, and implied/referenced nonconsensual sex. With that in mind, the rating for this chapter is still M.

][ music ][

The worst part of it all was that she heard it coming.

And she was powerless to stop it.

In the middle of a warm summer night, Sapphira heard the footsteps of their intruders, the incantations of their spells, the screaming of her children. She heard the frantic beating of their terrified hearts as the nightmare unfolded and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Magic was a powerful thing, especially when it was mana-based used against a race that couldn't wield or even sense mana. They were slaves to the spells long before they were ever shackled and sold. Their resistance was in vain, the magic holding them down or even shocking them when they fought back. She wanted to continue fighting but at some point she lost the energy. It became too painful to struggle and she didn't want to cause further harm to her unborn child. 

The dark carriage ride felt like an eternity with her shaking children huddled around her, her husband's presence close and shielding them from whatever harm would arrive next. When they reached their destination, hands yanked them onto their feet and led them to the last place they would ever truly all be together. 

It was upon a stage, chained and shackled in front of a crowd of people wanting to buy them.

She will never forget the moment her two eldest sons were torn away from her and she was likely to never see them again. As the destruction of her family rent its course, Sapphira could do nothing but watch in frozen horror. She watched numbly as her husband screamed and fought against his chains, his collar shocking him for his retaliation as he crumpled to the ground, her sons sobbing and screaming as they were pulled off the stage. The price paid for her children was a mockery. It caused the blood to boil in her veins and for the numbness to subside as she clenched her fangs.

"The next khaliit is a girl of six years, blue eyes, strength rating four, intelligence six, health eight. Starting wage: 80,000 gold."

Veronica. She was priced far higher than her older brothers and Sapphira had to wonder if it was merely because she was a girl or because she inherited her blue eyes - a trait considered "exotic" among their kind. Both considerations made her sick to her stomach, the nausea beginning to rise up in her throat like a snake. Sapphira dreaded how much she would be sold for considering she had blue eyes, red markings, and both stripes and spots in her markings - three separate rarities in khaliit genetics. Veronica may have had blue eyes but she had common brown stripes like her father. 

The bets were laid, wealthy men and women shouting against their odds and Veronica was sold to a man for 110,000 gold. Before they yanked her away, she looked back to her mother and it was in that moment of locking terrified gazes when Sapphira passed the stage of absolute shock at their predicament and finally broke down in tears.

Her next daughter Rae was sold for hardly 7,000 gold to a different master than Veronica's or their older brothers'. Sapphira figured it was because Rae was only three-years-old and she had common amber eyes and brown stripes, but it still broke her heart that her daughter would forever feel her worth was significantly less. She was old enough to understand numbers. She was old enough to understand that was what the world thought of her: nothing more than cheap labor. 

Sapphira was granted a small shred of hope when her husband was sold for 130,000 to the same master as Veronica. At least she can grow up with her father... at least two of my children will have one of their parents with them. Even if she was torn from her entire family she had the minuscule peace of mind that she couldn't be separated from her unborn son. Lionel and Merik had each other and now Veronica had her father Kahedin. Her heart still ached for Rae, the one who would grow up never knowing any of her family...

"The mother is thirty years old, expecting a boy, blue eyes, exotic markings, strength rating seven, intelligence eight, health nine. Starting wage: 200,000 gold."

Sapphira felt her heart skip a beat. She was not expecting to be worth that much, so much more than her husband who was far stronger and more capable for slave work... but then she remembered she was exotic and she was carrying a son who would grow to be like his father and possibly inherit her features. Not all slaves are bought for the purpose of manual labor... she realized as the room began to spin more violently.

She watched her fate bounce from bidder to bidder, her future lying solely on the measure of wealth and greed. Her joined hands in front of her clenched within her cuffs and she could feel her son kicking restlessly inside her, almost as if he felt just as terrified and uncertain. She unclenched her fits and moved her hands reassuringly over her protruding stomach to try and calm her child. Tears spilled from her face as she thought about her son who would grow up never knowing about the freedoms his siblings had enjoyed, however brief. Her grief overtook her senses to the point that she didn't even notice the bids or hear what her final selling price surmounted to, instead focusing on the tiny heartbeat inside her.

It wasn't until the chains connected to her wrist cuffs yanked her hands forward, did she realize she was being dragged towards the same man who bought her husband and Veronica. She felt a slice of guilt at the joy that blossomed in her chest since she still lost over half her family, but a part of her was relieved with the knowledge that Pike would now have a father, and Veronica a mother. At least she could continue to raise two of her children as much as the constraints of slavery would allow her.

She sobbed for the duration of their ride to their new prison, feeling broken and hollow as she held Veronica close and Kahedin embraced them both within the darkness.

 ][ --- ][

  ][ music ][

Harkon Volkihar was a wealthy elf desperate to win the affections of a woman whom his money could never buy. In his numerous vain attempts to court Amara, the servants suffered the brunt of his disappointment. It was easy to place the blame upon the slaves and that it was their shortcomings which caused the woman to not show any interest in him; if only the fine china was better shined, or his coat more intricately tailored, or the food served at a hotter temperature, then things would have surely gone better by now.

It was easy to take out his frustrations with reprimands and physical violence. It was easy to send an ounce of mana to their collars and give them a wave of excruciating pain. It was easy to remove all his accountability and place such a burden on someone else.

Harkon Volkihar lived an easy life and would never change his ways.

Pike Cimclan lived a life of hardship and never understood the concept of hope.

When Pike accidentally knocked over a crate of fine wine at the age of four, Volkihar in his anger told him a poison that seeped into his bones and became a hardened truth:

"Once a slave, always a slave. You will never amount to anything more than the animal you are. You were born a slave and you shall die as one."

And that's what Pike believed.

His father died only a year prior and he was just waiting for the inevitable day when his mother or sister would die as well. Slaves didn't live very long from the hard labor and trauma so he knew his days were numbered. He saw what happened to his family when they rebelled or resisted or even hesitated to do what they were told. Pike grew up knowing nothing beyond submissiveness and fear. 

Sapphira did all she could to try and help him see differently despite their dark circumstances. It was her constant struggle as a mother to encourage her son that he was more than a tool, more than an animal, more than a number.

"Why'd you make me a cake?" Pike asked on his fifth birthday. He sounded confused, one of his ears swiveled back.

Sapphira let out a small laugh despite the concern that churned in her stomach. "Because it's your birthday, Pike. We need to celebrate."

He asked the classic question of all children, his head tilting. "Why?"

She bit her lower lip for a moment as she tried to piece together a response that would get through to him, but luckily Veronica was in the kitchen as well and piped up from her workstation. "Everyone celebrates their birthdays, Pike." 

"But we're slaves," he explained as if it weren't obvious. "Slaves don't celebrate birthdays."

"If the master told you that, it is only his opinion and not fact," Sapphira countered soothingly. "Everyone has the right to celebrate their birthday, and you should not feel ashamed for eating a treat that was made for you, meant for you."

Pike still looked uncertain, his eyes lowering and his head following with flattened ears. His voice was barely above a whisper. "But what if you get in trouble?"

Her expression softened and she crouched down so she could be on eye level with her son, her hands finding place on his small shoulders. "Pike... a mother must always do what's best for her children. I would suffer through whatever pains it took to make you happy." She moved a hand to lift his chin up and his blue hues eventually followed to meet hers. "Alright? It's okay to have some cake. I even made your favorite, three-milk."

His ears perked forward excitedly. "Three-milk?"

"Yep!" She ruffled his hair and stood up to dish out the cake for them to eat. She felt her worry ease when she saw a glimpse of happiness in her son's face as he ate. It was nothing compared to the ideal childhood she dreamed of giving him, spent with days playing by the river and earnest hard work on the farm. But to see his eyes shine and his tail curl up was enough to keep her going. After a moment of silence between all of them, Sapphira prodded softly, "Pike?"

"...yes?" he answered mid-chew, his body stilling as he sensed the seriousness in his mother's tone. 

"Don't... don't allow your self-worth to be defined by the dictations of man. By their rules, you will always be sold short. You are so much more valuable than they could ever bargain for." She gave him a sad smile. "You understand?"

Pike blinked a few times but nodded, returning his attention to the cake. She wasn't sure if he truly took it to heart but she decided in that moment that she would remind him of that truth every night for as long as she had him. Every night before they went to bed she would remind him, to the point where he would say it along with her:

"You matter. You are priceless. And there will always be someone in this world who loves you."

 ][ --- ][

 Pike was eleven the first time his master went somewhere and took only him. He was confused about why he didn't take Veronica or even his mother. Veronica was older and better for carrying things and making suggestions on what would make Amara happy. He never took Pike anywhere unless his mother or sister came too but he didn't dare inquire his master about it.

They snuck through alleys and secret passageways within bars and Pike had an inkling of where they were headed. Dread suddenly consumed him with the thought that his master was going to sell him. What had he done wrong? What could he have done better? What was the last thing he said to his mother and sister?

They ended up in a physician's office and Pike's fear only solidified deep in his stomach like a stone. They were here to have a doctor evaluate his physicality so Volkihar would have a price estimate. Pike was shaking and it took the elvish female doctor's soothing words and occasionally the command of his master to get him to do what was asked. It was a very basic checkup where the doctor tested his senses, listened to his heartbeat, and let a small amount of blood which she quickly healed with magic.

"Sir, I'm going to take his collar off real quick," the elf said more as a precaution than asking for permission. When she bended the mana to release the gold band around his neck, Pike exhaled a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding and felt himself relax. The collar was never too tight around his neck but it still felt oddly liberating to have the familiar presence removed. The only times in his life where the weight didn't lie around his neck were the rare moments it malfunctioned or needed to be adjusted as he grew. He felt the strange desire to find a mirror so he could examine the severity of the scars he knew were branched there.

The doctor felt along his neck and told him to swallow and then deeply inhale and exhale a few times. His breadth of freedom was short lived when the collar was once again clasped around his neck, and Pike felt a strange reassurance at having the weight returned.

The checkup seemed pretty standard until the doctor requested he take off all his clothes. When Pike hesitated, still trying to process that the doctor did in fact just ask him to strip down, she offered to do it for him but Volkihar cut in and ordered him to obey. Pike slowly peeled off his layers, not daring to make eye contact with either of the elves. Choosing not to look at them somehow made his complete nudity more bearable.

Despite the extensive embarrassment, Pike found it odd that he was feeling more self-conscious about his stripes than anything else. He wasn't sure why - both the elves had markings that also adorned their skin. In addition to the standard elvish markings by the eyes, Volkihar's were a deep purple that curved around his forearms while the woman had a bright orange that marked up her collarbone and the backs of her hands. Perhaps it was because the only markings of his that were ever visible were the ones on his face, occasionally the ones on his upper arms. Perhaps it was because his markings were exotic and he assumed they were eyeing him like a rare work of art. Perhaps it was simply because he felt like his wild stripes gave more validity to the notion that he was just a cat compared to the elves' elegant designs.

As the elf looked him over he thought his discomfort would consume him but there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. At least in the midst of the sluggish torture, he learned something new.

"You can discern a lot about a khaliit's health just by looking at their claws," the doctor explained to Volkihar as she held one of Pike's feet, forcing the claws from his toes with some pressure. "When they're nice and clear like this that means they're getting all the nutrients they need."

Pike made a mental note to check his mother and Veronica's claws.

When she was finally done and he was told he could put his clothes back on, relief flooded his chest temporarily. He froze while pulling on his shirt when the doctor asked something he wasn't expecting.

"He seems perfectly sound. Has he gone into heat yet?"

"Yes, his first time was about two weeks ago," Volkihar replied.

Pike didn't hear the rest of their conversation as he sat there wondering why they would start discussing his heat cycles. He put the rest of his clothes back on with trembling hands as worry began to consume his thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to go home and part of him was tempted to curl up somewhere in the corner. The closest thing he could do for comfort was wrapping his arms around his waist. When the nurse asked about his price, his ears finally trained back towards their discussion.

"How much was he worth?"

"His mother was pregnant with him when I bought her for 275,000."

"Hmm... judging by his markings and coloring I'd say he'd be worth at least 175,000 or even as much as 250. Even if an offspring only received half his traits you'd probably be able to get around 60 for each kit, easily. Exotic slaves are hard to find and in high demand."

Wait, so the master isn't selling me? What is this talk about kits??

"Would it be easier to pay for a dam or just buy a female khaliit?"

"With your income, it'd be safer to just buy your own. You wouldn't have to split the earnings with the owner of the dam. The kits would also be healthier and therefore worth more if they lived in the presence of both the dam and sire."

"Is Renella and Tasimir the better place for buying right now?"

"Tasimir would have more interest in khaliit at the moment."

Pike didn't notice the rest of their conversation, his brows furrowed as he pieced together the exactness of his master's plan. He was smart enough to know Volkihar was using breeding terms. He could connect the dots. Why the master needed even more money was beyond him, but he figured Volkihar could make easy money by forcing him to have children to sell and all because of his markings and blue eyes. The thought made him sick and he hadn't even reached the horrific realization about what he'd be forced to do with a female khaliit stranger. 

Although he wasn't expecting any kind of conversation on the trip back home since the master only saw him as a tool (or a horse, apparently), Pike still felt an uneasiness in his stomach and a need to yell or cry or break something. He knew that if he did anything to reflect the emotional turmoil welled up inside him he'd receive a nasty shock from his collar and he didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. He kept his tears back by biting his lower lip and focused on the blur of trees outside the carriage window as he anxiously sunk his nails into the flesh of his arm.

As soon as he reached the kitchen he ran to his mother's side and clung to her as he sobbed into her apron. She was covered in flour but he didn't care.

"Pike honey, what happened? Did the master hit you??" She tried to pry him off of her to examine his face but when he shook his head against her stomach she gently pressed, "Where did he take you?"

"The master took me to see a physician," he mumbled.

Sapphira's spine grew cold. Owners never took in their slaves for physical checkups unless they were taking them in to be evaluated, which could only mean one of two things. "What did they say?"

"I'm healthy," he moaned as if it were a death sentence.

"I knew that much, sweetie." She chuckled softly to lighten the mood as she stroked his head to try and ease him through his sobs. "Do you know why?"

Pike didn't want to answer.

 ][ --- ][

 ][ music ][

"Master, permission to speak freely?"

Volkihar let out an annoyed sigh from his desk where he sat. "Yes, what is it?"

Sapphira fully entered the master chambers and stood at the side of his desk. "Why are you breeding Pike? What could you possibly need that much money for?"

"That is none of your concern-"

"My son is my concern! There is nothing more you can give Amara that money can buy! Don't you see that?"

"What would you know about winning the affection of the upper class?" Volkihar's hand twitched, a habitual tick which Sapphira learned had meant he was considering giving her a zap. "Besides, I'm doing this as a favor to Kallis. He had his eyes set on buying you, but out of the generosity of my heart, I told him I could instead give him a khaliit with a likeness to you, in turn keeping you with your son."

"...Kallis wanted to buy me?" A shudder ran through her spine, causing her tail to flick. She had seen the man at parties - he would have used her solely for entertainment and pleasure. This information changed her perception of the situation but she still felt disturbed. She didn't like the idea of Pike becoming a father to a child he would never see again who would only know a life of suffering. She realized with a bitter taste in her mouth that there was nothing she could do about it and that such a dismal future was the only one her son could ever know.

"He was persistent. In his desperation, he even tried buying Veronica... but she's much too useful to me to give away."

Sapphira felt her claws itch to unsheathe at the way Volkihar spoke of her daughter as if she were a pretty hammer only to be used on golden nails. "So you think breeding Pike is a better alternative? It'll be years before the child is... of any use to Kallis. It would be better for him to just go and buy his own damn khaliit sex slave!"

"Kallis prides himself on obtaining only the finest." He frowned. "He's convinced there's no better combination than your specific markings and eye color, and your son is an exact replica of that."

"So it all comes down to what's considered exotic..." she growled. Sapphira was considered a beauty among her own kind and she had many suitors, but that had nothing to do with the color of her eyes or stripes. Most khaliit didn't care about markings - it was akin to a human getting excited over how many freckles another had. It seemed pointless to her. A part of her wanted to offer that the master sells her to Kallis in hopes of sparing Pike of such a fate, but Sapphira reckoned Volkihar would eventually breed her son anyways and then he wouldn't have his mother anymore. She regrettably had to admit she was grateful Volkihar had insisted on keeping her. "Can... Sir, if I may request it, can you at least wait until Pike is a bit older? He may be capable of reproducing now but that certainly doesn't mean he's ready."

Volkihar was quiet a moment and her heart fluttered at the idea that he could be considering her proposal. "You said so yourself," he began darkly, "it'll be years before the child is of any use to Kallis. Logically, starting sooner would be better than later. Especially considering it might take a few tries until an offspring inherits an exact resemblance." 

Her ears drooped, her gaze falling to the floor. The master would force Pike to breed with a stranger until one looked exactly like him. None of her children looked exactly like her until Pike and he was her fifth child. "You were going to do this to him regardless of Kallis, weren't you..." It was less a question and more a resentful accusation.

"I am a businessman, Sapphira," he said simply. "Of course I'm going to invest in obviously advantageous assets."

Despite the fact she wanted to scream that her son wasn't an asset to exploit, her tone was still vile. "You have enough money. What more could you possibly want?"

"You should know what I want," he said coolly.

Her expression changed from a controlled anger to a dissatisfied glare. "Sir, with all due respect this will not help you charm Amara. The reason you can't win her love is because you are giving her something in which you have an abundance. True genuine love comes from sacrifice, and you aren't sacrificing anything for her."

She was surprised when Volkihar lowered his dark brows and actually looked her in the eyes with a pained expression. He seemed reluctant to ask the question but his curiosity got the better of him. "Since you know so much, then what would you suggest I... sacrifice... for her?"

"The one thing that is limited for everyone: time." Her face softened but it wasn't quite sympathetic. "For the longest time I thought my husband was just like everyone else, trying to win me with all these displays and gifts that suitors presented me, but I eventually learned that... he worked so hard to make or obtain those gifts for me. He had nothing to give but he gave it all anyways." Even the ring he proposed to her was nothing but a tied up piece of a reed stalk, but she knew Kahedin spent days getting it for her. The reed was a magical plant that was a vibrant red during the day but glowed a faint cyan at night. She learned that he had spent days traveling to find it since they were so hard to find. His humble proposal meant more to her than the worth of any kind of precious gems.

"Master, you can't buy Amara, no matter how good your intentions may be. You have to earn her love, and that comes from work, patience, and sacrifice. You've clearly got the patience part down, but you need to work a little harder and find something more valuable than your gold to give her. Something more meaningful."

His expression softened as he soaked in her words and she could never recall her master looking so vulnerable. He seemed to realize this pretty quickly when he rapidly blinked and the familiar hardness returned to his sharp features. "Very well. I will think on your words." Before Sapphira could so much as open her mouth to respond, he cut her off with a lifted hand and a blood-curdling command.

"You will return to my chambers tonight. Perhaps then, you can further persuade me."

She felt a bile churn in her stomach, the forced words feeling heavy as they left her lips and bound her more strongly than the collar around her neck.

"If it's good by my master."

 ][ --- ][

 Pike had never felt more dread in his life than when he first met Nyma. Even though his mother said she had a word with the master it seemed it changed nothing. Volkihar came home with a blonde khaliit girl a few years older than Pike, and he would admit she was pretty but that barely eased the knots in his stomach or made the situation any less disparaging.

"I thought you spoke with the master!" he blurted when he was alone in the kitchen with his mother.

"I did, but..." Sapphira took a shaky breath. "He never agreed to anything... but I was so certain my words got through to him. Yet it still wasn't enough... I'm so sorry honey..." She moved to pull Pike into an embrace, her angry tears flowing as he felt the powerlessness of being unable to protect her family.

He closed his eyes and buried his face into his mother's shoulder. "What's..." He started to shake as he tried to voice his fears. "What's going to happen now?"

She was quiet a moment as she tried to console him with gentle strokes on his head. "You're... going to have to get really close with Nyma, I'm afraid..."

His tears began to turn into something more akin to anger as well. "But I don't want to. I don't want anything to do with her! I don't want- I can't do it. I can't, mom..."

She knew her son didn't have a choice. Even if he and Nyma resisted to fulfill the master's wishes, he would punish them until they complied. Pike was old enough to understand what disobedience to the master meant. He remembers the day with painful clarity even if he didn't fully understand what was happening.

He saw that such resistance resulted in his father's death.

 ][ --- ][ 

 When Volkihar's mansion was under siege, Pike thought it was some lucid dream. Men and women in suits of armor swarmed the building, shouting commands and throwing spells. Only when he realized that they weren't attacking the slaves did he notice they were royal guards of the king. When a khariit approached his family in the kitchen, she took off her helmet and lifted her hand for some kind of signal. An elven guard cast magic with his hands, causing Pike's collar and the collars around his family and Nyma to unlatch with a resounding clack. 

"We have arrested Lord Volkihar for his crimes, thus you are all free to go," the khariit explained. 

Pike pulled off the two halves of his collar and held them in his hands in disbelief. He looked up at the guard's sincere brown eyes and asked skeptically, "What do you mean?" He was waiting for some kind of catch or for her to say they were being transferred to a different master or something more believable than that they were simply free.

"Harkon Volkihar bought and owned slaves and that's illegal in Aurita," she answered. "I'm surprised he's gone this long under the radar, but alas, Aurita is a large country, he lives in a secluded mansion up in the mountains, and many guards, unfortunately, are persuaded by gold."

"If you couldn't find us for twelve years, how were you able to find us now?" Sapphira asked, her tone only curious.

"The one who sold the blonde girl," the khariit flicked her wolfish tail towards Nyma, "was actually a double agent. Even had a tracking spell on her."

"That explains why he was so nice to me..." Nyma muttered in awe.

Sapphira suddenly fell to her knees, bending over completely as she buried her face into her hands and sobbed, her collar falling off with a loud clatter to the floor. Pike and Veronica were on either side of her and locked worried gazes as each of them held onto her. "Mom...?" Veronica inquired softly. After a moment she sat up enough to pull in both her kids for an embrace, her tear-stained cheeks a sign of relief and peace. Pike eventually sighed and yanked Nyma in for the group hug since it felt awkward excluding her.

The guards left them to have a moment as they searched the rest of the mansion for any more illegal dealings. Sapphira and Veronica left the kitchen to find the khariit woman while Pike and Nyma stayed behind. Pike was wondering what he should take with him but he was lost. It all felt too surreal. Would they still live here? Where would they go? He knew nothing beyond the mansion's walls. He didn't exactly own anything - everything he had was technically the master's. He kept returning to the golden collar which sat on his bed. It was the only thing that was truly his, and the only thing he would take.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked hollowly to the girl across from him. 

"I... I don't know," Nyma admitted, her blue eyes falling to the floor. "I don't know a life outside of this, either."

They were quiet for a long time, but the silence was never awkward between them. Pike and Nyma had learned to endure awkward silences well. She too, was born into slavery but Pike had to count his blessings. He at least stayed with part of his family and remained in a fairly stable situation despite his master's cruelty. Nyma had been bought and sold to so many different masters she had lost count. She didn't know the meaning of family. Despite the strange situation of their circumstances, Pike wanted to offer to her that they could become her family - in a way far different than what their master ever intended. 

"You could stay with us if you want," he offered, his tone somber. A part of him rejoiced at the thought of never having to see Nyma again, but deep in his heart he also ached for her and wanted to offer some semblance of a better life than the hell she endured. The freedom alone should have provided that but he felt the aching need to extend an invitation. He didn't want to be another in the long line of people in Nyma's life who had completely forgotten her. He was willing to live with the constant reminder of better-forgotten memories if it meant making her life a little less painful. He diverted his gaze from her, his chest feeling tight. "But... I understand if you want to leave. I don't know what my family will do but I just... I don't want you to feel like you're being abandoned again. You can stay with us. You and I can start over... if that's what you'd like. Because you do matter. You are priceless. And there will always be someone in this world who loves you."

A sniffle caused him to look up and see Nyma was crying, her face a pained expression. "Thank you, Pike. That is..." she took a shaky breath, "That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I'm not sure what I'll do but... I will definitely consider it."

He offered her a nod with a pained smile, leaving her to her thoughts.

As soon as Sapphira found the khariit guard, she blurted the question that burned into her mind. "Is it possible for you to find the rest of my family?"

"Oh no... you were separated?" she asked with creased brows.

"I have two sons who went to a different master and a daughter who went to another." She lifted her hands and closed her eyes a moment. "I know - I know it's asking a lot, but if there is even a chance that you could-"

"I will find them," she cut in decisively.

Sapphira blinked her eyes open, her ears flicking in surprise. "You...what?"

The khariit held out her hand. "You may call me Olia. I am the best tracker under King Samuel's guard, and I swear to you on my life I will find the rest of your children."

She grasped Olia's hand with both her own but quickly pulled her in for a tight hug, throwing the khariit off by surprise. "Thank you. You have already done more than you can possibly imagine."

"You are more than welcome," Olia replied while returning the embrace.

 ][ --- ][

 ][ music ][

"How is this any different than what we did last time?"

"This is an orange cake, the last was lemon. Honestly Pike, I thought you were more observant." Sapphira chuckled.

"No I mean..." He sounded hesitant. "How we used to live."

She stopped, blinking a few times before she set down her icing pipe to properly look at her son across from her. "You mean serving Lord Volkihar verses the Telcontars?"

He nodded.

"You don't get beaten when you're not perfect, that's certainly a big difference." The bitterness left her tone as the emotion hit her. She shook her head softly as troubled tears started to glisten in her eyes. "The difference is that we're free."

"We're still doing kitchen work though. And other housework."

"That is true. But we're doing it as servants, not slaves. It's..." She frowned slightly as she tried to piece together her words in a way her twelve-year-old son could understand. She moved around the table and stood next to Pike, lifting her hands to hold his face, her thumbs stroking the markings on his cheeks. "The difference, Pike, besides a much nicer, kinder way of living, is that you could run away from here, past those castle walls and live whatever life you'd like without a collar killing you." She paused and let out a soft laugh, adding, "Please don't actually do that though." She didn't want him to get any irrational ideas but she also wanted him to understand that he was not restricted to live within the walls of their new home.

"You are not the Telcontars' property. You belong to no one. We work here because we want to, not because we're being forced. The fact that we're still doing kitchen work is simply because that's what I'm good at. We could work at a small bakery or even a restaurant, but wouldn't you rather make cakes for a king? We live a good life here, sweety, and it's not because of the abundance of food or the lavish commodities. It's because we're free." She raised a hand to gently rub one of his oversized ears (he'd grow into them eventually), a sad smile forming on her lips. "The greatest difference we could ever ask for is our freedom. Do you understand?"

"... I think so." Pike purred in agreement. "It is much nicer here."

Sapphira laughed. "I would hope you'd at least notice that difference! It's definitely much more obvious than lemons to oranges." She released her hands and returned to her side of the table where she continued piping the cake. She blinked back tears, her gaze troubled. "I'm sorry your childhood was robbed from you... if there was anything I could have done to change everything, I... I would have done it."

Pike had returned to peeling oranges, his brows furrowed. "I don't think there's anything you could have done, mom. The collars prevented us from doing anything against our master. And it's not like we could use mana to release it. The only thing you could have done... was probably kill our master... which would have been impossible." 

"... I tried," she admitted, causing Pike's ears to perk in surprise. "I nearly poisoned them all one night. The asphyxiation would have kept them from shocking any of our collars... but he had a greater tolerance than I anticipated..."

"...Mom?" He was hesitant as he saw his mother's arms begin to shake. She set down the icing and pressed her hands into the table. Pike moved around and held one of her trembling hands with both his own. His mother just admitted to attempted murder and he didn't know what to think. "Mom... why? He could have killed you for doing tha-"

"Because I love you, Pike." Hot tears followed along the lines of her crimson markings. "I was helpless to watch your father die... I couldn't bear - to lose you or your sister too." She sniffled, letting out a heavy exhale. "Sometimes... sometimes the impossible, such as taking a life, becomes easy... if it's for the ones you love." 

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Were you scared?"

"Terrified." She had gained control of her shaking and stood up straight. "But that didn't weaken my resolve. However... I couldn't attempt it anymore because Volkihar was on to me and he bought Rolo. I couldn't murder the taste tester, a fellow slave who suffered the same as us. So I did whatever else I could to make you and your sister happy."

"...I appreciate that," he answered heavily. "I can't imagine what it might have been like without you there, or worse, to have neither you or Veronica..."

"You thinking about Rae?"

He nodded. "I don't even know her, have never even seen her and I still... I miss her. I feel like she should be here. Instead she's completely alone... she doesn't have you or a sister or a brother to endure through things with..."

Sapphira moved her arm to wrap around his shoulders. "We'll find the rest of your siblings one day. Olia and King Samuel personally made it a promise to me. I know Olia and her troops are out there looking for slaves to free and I'm certain she'll find them because she found us. Volkihar was the most cautious about hiding his slaves. If she found us, she can find anyone."

"I hope you're right," he said, a part of him coming to the dark realization: if they're not already dead.

 ][ --- ][

 Pike ran and ran.

He ran past people who called out to him, wondering why a random castle kitchen boy was running through the town. He ran through crowds of people in the market streets, too many colorful sights and sounds he had to ignore. He ran past the gate and beyond, as far from the castle as he could get without stopping for breath. When he reached the top of a hill panting, he turned to look out at the glorious expanse of the city of Arus laid before him and fell to his knees and sobbed. 

You could run away from here, past those castle walls and live whatever life you'd like without a collar killing you.

He had to see it for himself. 

He had to feel it. 

He didn't realize how something he had never known he could suddenly feel so strongly. It was the relief of a burden far heavier than the collar he once wore, something he could never understand was there until it was gone. He felt like a new creature with infinite paths laid before him. He wasn't born a slave and destined to die as one. He was born a slave but would die however he well pleased. 

Pike looked at the glistening white castle and felt a yearning in his heart he had never experienced before. He felt at peace as the tears fell down his face and he came to realize a beautiful truth that was now part of his life.

He was free.

This was his home.

And there, his family truly lived.