#let her cry and live through it

[not-a-cheese-thief]

Marjan Marwani has my heart. She can have any of my organs actually. That lady can take her pick.

[todayisafridaynight]

tw // suicide

on twitter some ppl were talking about THAT jo scene from iw again and someone commented fucking "you know he was thinking about using that gun on himself" and im not sane anymore !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! added something something his faith in ichi kept him hopeful enough in the moment but then when he went to jail oh. ohhh !!!!!!!!!!!

nooo cause if That Jo Scene is the flashback scene with hoshino's death that really had to be SUUUCH a low point if not top five lowest points for him i wanted to throw up watching that <- replays it in my brain constantly

[henswilsons]

Worst News Ever: my friend has offered me her spare maisie peters ticket on the day of another friend's birthday. heartbreaking time for girlbosses everywhere </3

[neobisexual]

had a very intense semi lucid dream last night where i was the daughter/acolyte of an insane cult leader/my dad who performed non consenual surgery on me and molested and raped me. it inspired me to start writing a lil sci fi novella but also to clean out my closet and find my vibrator cuz i was desperate for it after waking up lmfao

[icterid-rubus]

😕

[softshuji]

y'know it's a night when hal sits and eats cereal in the dark room at 1.30am.

[the-hopeless-haze]

Ok I don’t care if it’s cliched and too on the nose the fact that Kimberly Perry is coming back and doing If I Die Young pt 2 13 years later, like… that’s huge… like The Band Perry was my emo phase before my emo phase and as a child who grew up with this music and listened to this song religiously and very much wanted to die through most of middle school… hearing her sing the words “now I know there’s no such thing as enough time” is monumental to me when I thought 11 years was enough time.

[fazcinatingblog]

More like IF I come back amirite, also stop making me feel guilty, also learn to spell (paralegal? Parallel? ...never mind doesn't parramatta), also like it's my fault she hires 53 accountants that can only do accounting and 1 admin person to send out the tax returns and invoices and

[lavender-femme]

.

[starikune]

Tag Dump Part 4.

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[memories-break-our-fall]

hey I don’t like being a smart gifted kid anymore. can I please be normal I’d much prefer that

[darthteeth]

URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!

(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL

I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:

"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.

My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.

My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.

My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.

Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."

taglist

@butchniqabi @xinakwans

@batekush

@appsa

@nerdyqueerr

@butchsunsetshimmer

@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy

@t4tvampireisms

@strangeauthor

@bryoria @shesnake

@legallybrunettedotcom

@lautakwah @sovietunion

@neechees @evillesbianvillain @antibioware

@akajustmerry @dizzymoods

@ree-duh @neptunerings

@explosionshark

@heritageposts

@ibtisams

@schoolteacher

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

[isaacathom]

had a dnd session and a subplot is set to resolve and im gonna go a little feral so :) hellow

Naielle Odelia is a warlock under the forgotten star Alcor. She formed this pact 20 years ago in pursuit of a specific knowledge, and was not entirely aware of what was being asked of her in return when she did this. Due to her pact, she was forced into exile from her home country (The Sylvian Empire), and has ultimately ended up here, on the quest of the campaign, opposing a mindflayer incursion in the Jade Sea. This was always Alcor's plan.

A few months ago in-game, Naielle took leave to return "home" to Yerovera to visit her fiancee, who had managed to make inter-planar contact. When she arrived, they learned that Naielle's younger sister, Mariela, was using the remains of her patron-granted research to potentially cause havoc. To prevent disaster, Naielle and the ship captured Mariela, and decided the best way to remove her from the equation was for Naielle to take her back with her to the Jade Sea.

When they arrived, Alcor looked at Mariela and assumed she had been brought there to serve as an acolyte of Naielle's. Another member of a long dead and now maybe resurgent cult of a star. He forced a warlock pact on her, and bound her to Naielle's will, such that attempting to harm Naielle would cause psychic backlash, and that she was bound to follow Naielle's orders and aid her in her crusade against mindflayers.

Naielle, having had 0 intention of this, opposes it categorically. Mariela didn't believe her.

They've been at loggerheads for a while. Naielle and her have never gotten on exceptionally, but realising what she's accidentally done to her sister caused Naielle to flip, to make it damn near her primary objective to free her sister of the pact. There's little the two could do for a long time.

Then, during a brief sojourn in the Plane of Fire, Mariela found a book about the Cult of Alcor, and the history therein.

Alcor once had a cult in the feywild, and when that plane began to tear itself apart structurally, disappearing into pockets of nothingness, he channeled his power through his chief priest, Aerenis, to guide the elves to safety - to Yerovera. In so doing, Aerenis ceased to be mortal, and ascended to serve as an aspect of Alcor.

This was Alcor's goal for Naielle. That she would embody his power against the mindflayer threat.

Naielle fears it. She managed to speak to Aerenis directly for his advice, to be assured his regret that it was coming to this. She was given options;

To forsake her pact entirely, practically erasing 20 years of acquired knowledge. Extremely bad idea

To transfer her 'priesthood' to her sister, sentencing her to that ascendant fate. Undesirable

To, with Mariela's help, declare their pact resolved in the moment of slaying a significant enemy - an Aboleth, more than likely - removing both of them from the pact. Dangerous

To Ascend. Deeply Undesirable.

Naielle relayed these to Mariela, who used the fact she was a political prisoner to have coded messages sent home. Naielle, and then-Commodore Vandervest did not know what the messages contained, but Naielle insisted they be untampered with (and Mariela, apparently, convinced Vandervest to honour this).

Vandervest recieved word on the matter, but due to his failing health, decided to leave much of the matter to be dealt with by his successor, only informing Naielle of a political decision - that, due to the lengths the Sylvian Empire had gone to secure Mariela's correspondance, it had been ordered by his superiors that Mariela either be completely locked down for future use as a bargaining chip, or be killed.

He had recieved an answer from the Empire on the matter.

His successor, Acting-Commodore Marius Aubert, once he became aware of the matter, summoned Naielle to his office and said that the code contained suggested an affirmative answer, and that he wished to talk to Mariela about what question she had asked. Naielle, not being entirely confident, agreed to this.

When they got to her, she says she would rather not explain it with Naielle present. Naielle asks, just one question - does it involve me, or her? both. Naielle goes back above deck.

Mariela explains to Marius privately. In the Empire, warlock pacts are forbidden. She had requested special dispensation to seek that power. When pressed further, she explains that Naielle had 'often expressed that she finds her pact burdensome', and that she would relieve it.

Marius hands her the response from her government, and states that while her people may give her permission, he can't allow harm to come to Naielle.

She requests to talk to her, and Marius goes above deck to fetch her, though takes the short opportunity to pre-warn her of what Mariela appears to be asking for. Naielle descends below deck already on the verge of tears.

They talk. Mariela calls her Kiir, her childhood name. They gave her permission to take the pact. Naielle can only ask her if she's sure, over and over again. Are you sure? Do you understand what you ask for? Mariela is thrown by the question, but says yes - she can do better than Naielle did. Naielle believes her! It wouldn't be hard! But does she know what she asks? Does she understand how easy it would be fuck up the same as she did?

Which is when Mariela reveals part of what has driven the strife between them.

She can't stay in Naielle's shadow.

Their mother is a strict woman, at all times aware that her position is fragile and her family is in danger, that the imperial regime could at any moment deem them obstacles and wipe them out. She lived through the empire's bloody rise, and watched her father's execution.

She criticises. She measures her children, against the world and each other, and finds them wanting.

Naielle didn't notice it, so much. She had the wholehearted support of her father, shared in his field of expertise and his passion for history. If mother found her wanting, her father didn't.

Mariela noticed. Mariela noticed as she was compared unfavourably to her academic sister, a more talented student with a natural gift. Her mother still compares to two, as Naielle's exile looms over the family like a ghost.

Naielle didn't know. These aren't the sort of things she heard. She knew her twin brother had found their separation difficult, that Mariela had remained 'cruel' on the topic of Naielle, had sometimes caused arguments with their brother on the topic. Naielle didn't know that she wasn't just a cudgel by a sister proud and patriotic, but a mother critical of all the efforts her children make.

If Mariela could take Naielle's failings - the research she'd been exiled over - and turn it into an asset for the empire, she would escape that legacy. She'd finally succeed over her sister. She could turn failure into success.

They hug. They laugh. How the fuck did they get here, crying below the decks of a pirate ship?

Mariela had wanted to kill her. To get revenge for the pact Naielle had foisted upon her (regardless of her lack of intent), to remove her shadow from the Odelia's halls. She had wanted to seize their patrons power and use it to imperial ends, and succeed where Naielle failed.

Did she understand what that power meant? And this time she listens when Naielle explains that. That to ascend is not just to be handed power, freely wielded and beyond recourse. It is to leave the material plane and exist as part of the divine, alone and separate.

Mariela absorbs it for a moment. How did Naielle bear the weight of that over her? Ha! Ha... That is all Naielle can say.

Mariela doesn't want Naielle to go.

There remains an option that lets them both have a chance to go home! They kill an Aboleth together, they declare it done. Option 3. And then Naielle will take her home, and she can spin any story she likes that would satisfy the Empire, say she overpowered Naielle and stole her research, that she was bound and coerced and bided her time until Naielle dropped her guard. Naielle will take her home, and she'll return to the sea, and then, in the future -

Naielle will come home, in a disguise? Naielle laughs at that. Perhaps not. But they can surely find a way to stay in contact, perhaps through Naielle's wife, or some other means, until Naielle is safe to come home.

Mariela agrees with the plan. She'll pack her things, and return with Naielle and Marius to the front they rapidly approach, and help Naielle fight the Aboleth. And she'll go home.

And Naielle's chances of coming back from the final fight change. Her death is no longer a guarantee, whether at the hands of dark forces or wrapped in the light of the celestial. Maybe she has doomed the fleet by forsaking the divine, made it more likely none of them come home. But Naielle considers herself a consummate coward, and selfish, and she can't pick anything else.

Doesn't she have orders to hold or kill Mariela? Well, didn't Mariela have orders to take celestial power and kill Naielle? Neither sister will follow what the highers say. Maybe they'll make a show of it on both ends, and live content in their treasons, and dodge the consequences and live to know they spared the other, in a manner of speaking.