#like the edit looked absolutely awful until some magic happened and everything came together??

[zhoras-bitch]

Tyril and Imtura in our world.

[ghostmartyr]

So if you, like me, have nothing to do but wonder about the state of my inbox, you might rightfully be wondering how I plan to deal with the obscene backlog I have spent so many years failing to deal with.

If you have never wondered that, fear not, that doesn’t exclude you from finding out.

Today we’re just going to go through my entire slew of unanswered asks, and instead of answering them, I am going to provide excuses for why I didn’t do anything with them.

For added fun, several of the asks were in my Drafts.

I will not be cutting out the comments I started to make.

I will no doubt regret this.

Let’s have a time, shall we?

I don’t even know what year this is from. If I remember correctly, I didn’t get back to you because I thought about trying to reason out who would legitimately win, and there were too many points for both sides. I kept intending to come up with a proper answer, then time went by and this got buried.

Though the actual answer is probably “it depends on who gets the main character sticker at the time.”

...

..

.

Well.

I can tell you this is multiple years old.

We, as humans, aren’t equipped for time travel.

I didn’t answer this one because I didn’t feel like it was asking for one, and I’m only reproducing it here because it is really, really funny now.

Two years old. Plus change.

I think the entire reason I never replied to this one is that it cheered me up whenever I scrolled down enough to see it, so thank you.

You know, I entered the link at the time. Really, I did. But then came trying to come up with a comment and what can you really follow that with?

(Click the link.)

Okay then.

I still feel no need to respond to this, so that’s probably why I didn’t to start with.

Historia and literally anyone.

I don’t remember why I didn’t answer this, which usually means some combination of feeling tired and not being in the mood to scroll down to where it was.

Oops.

The thing is, this crosses dangerously close to being a fic idea. Fic ideas take time and effort. You can imagine the absolute dread I felt at having to engage with either concept.

It would have been a lot of fun to do, though. Hats off.

See, again. This is a very interesting concept that requires thought. I can tell you when I received it I was in no mood for anything that required anything of the sort.

I wrote a fic that is possibly never going to see the light of day now where they hang out in a kitchen with hot chocolate together and bond through unstated trauma and Frieda attempting to make things better.

That probably contributed to interfering with imagining how they would actually get along.

Anyway, I ship them slightly in that fic AU. Don’t @ me.

Oh dang. I remember this.

I actually really wanted to answer it, but the problem is that I wanted to come up with a good answer. Every character, tiered by their chances. A full Hunger Games edition of what went down and who killed who.

Then I didn’t.

Anyway, turns out the answer is that no one feels the need to chop of rocking chairs in a hurry, so she’d last a long time!

I didn’t answer this because I try to avoid responding with, “I don’t know.” My secondary answer would probably have been, “By being killed.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with those answers, but unless there’s been a tonal trend in asks, I assume that pithy answers that don’t actually have any meat behind them would not be appreciated.

I would stick to him probably being killed, though. But some signs do point to him being relatively immortal.

Hm.

Hmm.

I don’t know why I didn’t answer this, but I would guess it had something to do with me caring very little about Ymir’s thoughts on anything outside of her little clutch of people. And ongoing trauma of repeated dead/alive Ymir commentary killing off my desire to come up with a good answer.

Sorry?

I... have no idea why I didn’t answer this? Maybe I didn’t see it?

Anyway, yes.

There’s a longer version behind that yes, and I’m sure that might have contributed to never getting around to answering this. ...Assuming a past where I did actually see this one.

I have a confession.

I don’t really like crossovers.

There’s a sliding scale of degree, but that’s basically why this didn’t get a response.

Ah, we’ve landed on a recurring theme.

Sometimes, answers involve me thinking about the entire cast.

The usual consequence of that is I don’t have the energy for that, so nothing ever happens with these.

Oh, this one’s easy.

I had no fucking clue.

No ideas, head empty.

That didn’t seem like a good answer, so here we are, probably around a year later. I still have no clue. If I were forced to write a singing duo AU, I would probably just put some adjectives and nouns into a blender and flip a coin.

Names are hard.

I think I didn’t answer this one because I felt like I’d answered similar asks before. And I’m not really sure when this is from, but it’s possible canon complicated coming up with an answer that wasn’t distressed screeching.

Something something give Connie and Mikasa hugs, not partial about where they get them from.

Apparently not. Oops.

I can’t remember why I didn’t respond to this one. It’s possible the oodles of bad parenting proved too distracting to formulate such a post.

Sometimes I get an ask, and my immediate, gut reaction is, how the fuck should I know?

If I can move past that, the ask is answered.

If I can’t, the ask continues its descent through scroll hell.

I am sorry. There are no answers here.

Yeah, this is just the same as the above, just with I have no idea.

It’d probably be a Madoka Magic deal.

Huh. I don’t remember passing this one over. If I were to guess a timeline, I was probably too bitter over potential post-timeskip looks that I never got to be interested in focusing on the characters lucky enough to get good ones.

Go Connie for being less short, I suppose.

This clearly belonged to something that I was doing, but time has eroded the context, so I am simply left with failure and disappointment on all sides. Sorry.

Aw, we’re getting into the boring part of the inbox now, I think. Not because of the questions; you guys are always great. But I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t have answered this, which leads me to think that the reason was I was too tired to put words together.

That’s a boring reason, so maybe I should go into Drafts for the next few...

Yeah, still unfairly prejudiced against crossovers. I am no fun, etc. etc.

I have no memory of it, but I feel like I didn’t answer this because there was no way I could match this kindly anon’s enthusiasm.

You go, random internet person.

You have good ideas.

Oh no.

Uh.

See.

I know exactly why I didn’t answer this one.

I am so sorry, Anon.

I really didn’t care.

I am filled with affection for you because you clearly do, but uh.

...I basically put this on Read.

This has a very simple, ie boring, explanation. Any time someone asks about the cast as a whole, I want to think about the cast as a whole, and that takes a lot more thought than most of the asks I get. Cue putting it off. Cue it getting lost in scroll hell. On and on we go until we end up here.

Anything that opens with kilometers is something that requires more brain power than I have had in the past year.

Also I think I got this during a spoiler week, so I saw it, but I was trying not to look at it, and then it got lost in the post-chapter asks.

That happens a lot.

We might see it more soon.

If I can’t come up with words more than “-shrug-” I try not to answer.

...Good news, though!

The manga did my job for me!

I feel like I answered some variation of this. That might be why I didn’t answer this specific one.

The wiki does a better job keeping track of the timeline than I ever have. I probably didn’t answer this because it would involve trying to remember which volume actually name-dropped a number of weeks or months. Searching for lines I know a character said is pretty easy, but searching out lines I have a vague feeling of someone providing? That tends to hit the frustration button with the force of a truck.

But yeah, if you ever want to know how long something took, the wiki is absolutely your friend. They do good work.

Consider: “What if” questions are hard, and I am lazy.

This is actually one I really did mean to get to, sorry. It’s an interesting thought, and I miss Sasha.

...I clearly did a magnificent job answering your asks, friend.

Prediction asks are hard for me; I feel like I’m throwing darts randomly into the air and the dartboard is still deciding if it’s going to show up. So uh. I guess I just kept putting this off until it didn’t get answered.

This post is going to have so many apologies. Implied and otherwise.

I continue to be the No Fun Police who accidentally-on-purpose avoids crossover commentary.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one entirely because seeing it in my inbox gave me far too much joy to have it lost in a sea of posts.

This is what my inbox was made for.

I have no idea when this was from, but I see your emotions and appreciate them, Anon.

...Did I not see this one?

Hey, Anon who probably doesn’t remember sending this: This is a good ask and deserved some good attention, and I’m sorry I missed my shot at it. Good thoughts.

I didn’t answer this one entirely because I knew I couldn’t match the energy of it, and responding with anything less felt heretical.

That is one hell of a mood, Anon.

This is definitely from the era of, “Can’t think, brain empty.” Sorry about not getting back to you, I just really couldn’t organize my thoughts well enough to come up with an answer.

I feel like I didn’t know what this was continuing from and was too exhausted to ask.

LOOK YOU CAN SEE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE IT’S A DRAFT.

Too many things, Anon.

I liked so many things about all of that. Trying to turn that enthusiasm into words wasn’t agreeing with me, so I put it in Drafts and told myself one day I’d do the most awesome post detailing everything.

Intentions, huh?

Every time I tried to take a normal screenshot with formatting Tumblr just laughed at me, so that might have been a contributing factor.

Dang, I’m really sorry. This is another one of those cases where I wanted to take my time with a response, and I took too long.

I, uh.

Am guilty of not being too interested in pondering Ymir’s thoughts on Levi or Erwin.

That’s it, that’s the explanation.

Yeah, I just couldn’t come up with an answer here? Or someone else asked? Or several of my friends decided to be annoying about lists on Discord? I don’t even know.

Presumably there could be a list.

There is not.

Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out how to follow that starting sentence up. A thought exercise on Armin, Historia, gender, and themes sounded really interesting, and I put it in Drafts so as not to forget it being interesting.

Then, you know. This post sort of paints the picture.

Ah.

Man, I really was looking forward to putting some proper thought into this. That’s the problem with having so many things I love in one place, I guess. Symbolism? Historia and Ymir? Mikasa? So many good things! Where do I start!

With paralyzing indecision that results in not a lot. Sorry, Anon. This really did light up my day when I got it.

Here’s the thing about me and writing:

I often fail to.

(I love both these ideas, though.)

Yes.

Do I know why I didn’t get around to answering this?

Absolutely not.

But yes, I’d agree with that.

GOOD NEWS!

The manga actually gave us some of them together in the future.

I occasionally giggled over their shared distaste.

It was a good time.

And this is another one I just do not know why I didn’t answer, whoops.

This never got answered because I couldn’t come up with an answer.

Broad questions are scary because they can go just about anywhere and I didn’t know how to handle that level of commitment.

I think I didn’t answer this one, A), because words are hard, and B), because mostly I just wanted to listen to more of your wondering and less of mine.

I probably could have answered this by saying I don’t have any, but that seemed rude, so I didn’t respond to it at all.

Yep.

Frieda is worthy of my time and effort.

Landing this in Drafts instead of my inbox.

Where the lighting makes it more obvious that hope has gone there to die.

I think about it so much too.

I find the answers fundamentally upsetting.

That is probably why I did not provide an answer here.

That is a lot of kids to make up headcanons for.

So I didn’t.

She’s eaten by dogs before she develops a personality.

Since that seemed like the wrong thing to say, I said nothing, and into Drafts this went.

‘I have no earthly clue’ seemed similarly unhelpful.

At this point, we understand that there is no mystery to my backlog.

This one hurts.

-sees the 112 reference-

Wow does it hurt.

As I hope is obvious, I really, really loved this question, and kept meaning to carve out time to work on it specifically. What went sideways was trying to put words to how EMA functions. I knew the feel of what I wanted to express, but every time I tried to write it, it came out wonky.

I’m very sorry I couldn’t do anything for this, because I was thrilled to spend time with it.

I didn’t answer this because Fuck Marley.

It’s nothing against you. At the time, I simply wasn’t in any mood to consider any version of Marley. Even the canon version was too much for me, so giving it my time in a roleswap AU had me hissing.

Roleswaps in general are amazing, and I love them a lot. A dedicated person could make a fantastic one based around Marley and Paradis. I think it would probably be cool af.

But I was so tired of Marley when I got this, I just couldn’t make myself think about it. Sorry. It’s a fun idea.

I didn’t answer this one because I kept trying to extend my response past, “I think he just really likes baseball.”

I think he just really likes baseball.

My feelings on that as a quality answer are derogatory.

Mm. The ones where I actually tried to get something started hurts.

Ultimately, this ask was a larger demand than I could make my brain work through at the time. I made sure to write down the tl;dr version of Sasha’s, because I found that desperately important, and not something that people talk about much, but the additional weight of trying to think of themes for multiple characters made it hard to progress.

Me, looking at the prompts: Hi my brain left me.

Sorry, Anon. Too many gears were moving for me to get a proper feel for what I wanted to do with this one, so I ended up ditching it. ...I was planning to finish it, though. Eventually. See, I even put the quote in the Draft version as a reminder of what I was doing, so I could get back to it right away.

Yeeeeah, this is just one more to the “I will give this wonderful thing all the time it deserves!” pile.

The pile is stored in the Failure Corner.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

You guys really like crossovers.

I love that for you.

-spends two years ignoring you-

I mean, I just didn’t know what to do with the rainbows.

They sure are there.

They sure are pretty.

I sure couldn’t come up with a comment to add.

...I don’t know why I didn’t answer this. Possibly because I think it’s fine? I’m not too attached to it, and spent the whole manga period wanting to watch an anime version instead, then we got an anime version.

I’d guess that my general “meh” feelings interfered with responding here.

No idea why I didn’t answer this.

Yes, and good for you.

I support all thoughts on giving the Reiss kiddos personalities.

I think I didn’t get back to you on this because I wasn’t sure how to encourage you to keep going so I just sat awkwardly on my hands and felt weird about not saying anything.

...Thanks for sharing!

I love how it’s the little things that date these.

Unfortunately, we’re now at the point where 90% of the reason I didn’t answer was because I was too sick to muster up anything approaching enthusiasm.

Or because I’d just finished answering a bunch of chapter-specific things and was burnt out.

This felt pretty self-explanatory to me, so I felt like that gave me permission to ignore it.

Also, it mentions Marley.

I might be slightly petty.

Really though, I think what stopped me from giving a proper answer is that the question of what an author is trying to say throws me off a little. I work better thinking of it in terms of what the story is saying, with the author just happening to be the hands that wrote it all down.

I don’t know. This was probably another case of feeling like I should give this more of my time than I was able.

I couldn’t decide.

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

Everyone needs to give Mikasa a hug.

My blog title for a hug.

-the crossover snake hisses and consumes another-

I am so sorry.

This is fun.

I probably should have just gone with posting and saying so, because I am genuinely charmed by this. I tend to feel like I have to add something to asks to justify the post. That policy maybe didn’t need to be a thing.

I love my anons.

I want that to be clear.

Really, I do.

I especially love their willingness to embrace my crackpot logic.

Still.

Sometimes, the only response one can have to Schrodinger’s Ymir is to ignore its existence, find a pillow, and scream into it for the rest of time.

This replaces typing.

-looks at Armin-

-looks at Eren-

Yeah, don’t know why I didn’t answer this one, either. I blame tiredness? Sorry about that.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one because it felt like work.

This is where I start considering that making this post was a mistake.

I could have just agreed with you and gone about my day.

Probably should have.

Did not.

Another one for that, “had nothing to add so I just left it in a corner, abandoned and unloved,” pile.

There is an apology section at the end, but we’re not there yet.

This one I don’t think I noticed.

Alternatively, I did notice, and wasn’t sure “Yes,” would pass as a good enough answer.

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

Okay, time to really just get into it: I think for the remainder of my inbox, I didn’t answer because physically, I was just too damn exhausted, and I kept waiting for a point in time where I’d feel better. Sorry to put a limit on the personalization, but in the end, that’s all there was to it, and rephrasing it a dozen times will make me crazy.

And here we are.

Well.

Good grief, do you guys even have any clue how much I like all of you?

Obviously there’s a lot of guilt in the above, because I can’t tell you how much I wanted, each time, to give a great answer that would make you thrilled you messaged me. I am so sorry to all of these I didn’t get to. There were days when the alerts in my inbox were the best thing to happen to me, and I never wanted to let any of them go without acknowledgment.

I try to say thank you as often as I can in my responses, because that’s as close as I can get to reminding you all, constantly, that I am grateful for your participation. The only times I don’t say it is when I worry that it’ll look like it’s being done out of habit, not genuine gratitude. Or when I think you might take it the wrong way if I say thanks for a basic conversation. Because you provide me content and make me interested in things I might not normally look twice at.

There are so many instances of people saying hi, and thank you, and wishing everyone well here.

I haven’t been active in the larger fandom in two years, but I have always been so happy that you guys kept dropping by my space anyway.

You are a pleasure and light in my life, no matter how much snark I might throw about.

Thank you all.

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Scales pt. 4a //yan!bakusquad fantasy au//

a/n: im so fuckin sorr this took so long lol, it was actually written but life was too crazy to edit/post. i had to make this angsty so it wouldnt turn out horny

Pt. 5

warnings: swearing, mature themes? mentions of past abuse/trauma

Things felt weirdly normal when you woke up, and despite the memories that flashed through your head you kept your cool. You needed to be logical, it was the only way you’d be able to get out of here alive. Denki was in your arms when you finally opened your eyes, and a weight lifted from your chest. Oh thank gods you were together. That made things easier. The room was… undoubtedly luxurious, Shigaraki sure knew how to play nice when he wanted. Horror shot through you when you saw the iron collar clamped around Denki’s neck. Fuck, you knew what that was. you’d seen it used before, and Denki wasn’t going to be able to help with it on. You’d need a diamond to get it off, unless you could get the key. Fucking Shigaraki, he’d be here soon to gloat. The fucker loved nothing more than being validated for what he’d done.

“I didn’t appreciate your little stunt.” Shigaraki finally showed his face, and your eyes narrowed as you stared at him from the bed.

“If you were bored you should have just told me. I thought you liked the solitude while I was busy, but obviously I was wrong.” He took a seat next to you and your skin crawled, had he gotten crazier? “But that’s all in the past now, and you have your own pet to keep you entertained.” Oh yeah he absolutely lost it while you were gone. You stayed silent as you watched his fingers trail over your leg to Denki’s sleeping form next to you. The threat was clear despite him staying silent. If you tried anything, he’d take it out on Denki.

“Thank you.” You had to force the words out, any feelings you had right now didn’t matter. You just needed to keep Denki safe, and that meant keeping Shigaraki happy until you could get away. It worked, his chapped lips stretched into a grin as he made himself comfortable besides you, showing no intention of leaving any time soon.

“They did WHAT?” Katsuki flung his sword across the room, the metal sending up a puff of feathers when it hit the bed. He’d just gotten back from a war meeting, and this was the first thing he had to hear?

“How dare that dry ass motherfucker send his cronies here, I’ll get Y/n and Denki back myself.” He snarled, and Hanta had to jump on him before he could leave .

“Katsuki, calm down, if you go rushing in it’ll only make the situation worse.” Mina crouched down, making sure she was in the blondes line of sight so he had no choice but to listen.

“Yeah man, Izuku can help, right?” Hanta added, still pinning Katsuki down. 

“And Shoto too, we have allies Katsuki, we don’t have to just rush in.” Mina glanced at Kiri, who nodded in agreement despite the fact he wanted nothing more than to bolt to wherever you were. He just needed to make sure you were safe. At least Denki was with you, the two of you could take care of each other for the time being, and it would be enough that the bond wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Fine, get them here, now! We need to do this quickly!” Katsuki gave in with a snarl, the more people he had to crush that extra, the better.

Fingers tapping your thigh made you jump, and you dropped the book in your hands as you turned to Denki. He’d just been…dozing, barely waking up to eat and drink.

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Weird, kinda out of it… where are we?” Gold eyes darted around the room, horror growing in them with every passing second. “What happened to Mina?” Denki was starting to panic, and you had to grab his hand to make him look at you.

“She got away, I sent her back to Katsuki so she could get help.” You soothed, hand smoothing over his hair. “You know what they're like, I'm sure they're planning something right now.” He didn't look convinced, and you wondered how he hasn't noticed the iron around his neck.

“Why can't we just break out?”

“If there's a sure opportunity for us to escape I'll take it, but you can't fight with the collar on, and I can't get it off while we're here.” You grabbed his wrists to stop him tearing at it, there was no use.

“Don't try to use your powers, okay? I'm not sure what it'll do, but the ones I've had have never been good. Your powers will activate the selected gem, and depending on that the collar will do something. I don’t want to risk it.”

“How do you know all this?” Denki squinted at you, and you dropped his arms, hands folding in your lap as you thought about how to explain that.

“I um, always had a talent for magic, my teachers kept track and when I graduated Shigaraki noticed and I uh… didn’t exactly go along with him at first, so he chose a… harsher…? Way for me to learn and fit into his… role for me.” The words stuck in your throat on the way up, you never thought you’d have to tell anyone that.

“I know it might be… a lot, and I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get out of here, but you need to trust me, okay Denki?” You couldn't look at him, your whole plan needed him, you couldn’t leave him here alone.

“Okay Y/n, but I’ll hold you to that promise.” You couldn’t help startle when Denki surged forward, nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. This wasn’t the reaction you expected, he went along so easily?

“O-Okay, just follow my lead, he needs to let his guard down and I… know how to do that.”

“The meeting was awful, honestly that scum are lucky I have you to calm me down… so I don’t have to resort to more extreme methods.” You’d tuned out most of Shigaraki’s rant, Denki had fallen asleep and you didn’t see the point in waking him for this. The king had his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair with a familiarity you hated. Shigaraki turned so he was facing you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek and you were lucky he was delusional enough to think the shudder that ran through you was good.

“Hmm? What happened this time?” You forced the words out, pretending to care really fucking sucked. His answer was lost as Denki started to stir next to you, oh god why’d he have to wake up now? He was gonna say something bad and it’d be over for the both of you. Shigaraki was still mumbling on while your eyes were fixed on Denki, humming your acknowledgment at the appropriate intervals so he’d think you cared.

“I swear it’d be better if I just ripped their heads off, then I could just stay here with you.” These words were mumbled into your skin,, Shigaraki going from laying in your lap to straddling you and hiding his face in your neck before you could do anything to stop him. You hated when he got like this, it could last for days if he was feeling particularly insecure or clingy.

“But then you’d have nobody to do what needs to be done, and you’d be spending even less time here.” Denki spoke and your heart stopped, oh god oh god ohgod. Shigsraki pulled back to look at the blonde, eyebrows raised as he considered that option.

“You have a point.” The king shrugged before he went back to your neck as if nobody had spoken, lips brushing against your skin as he grew bolder. Unease surged through you at the contact, the force of it through the bond almost made Denki transform, but he remembered you needed him to be good so you could get them out of here, and so he settled for buying his face in your thighs. He really hoped you knew what you were doing, and that the others were planning something. A knock at the door had your heart jumping into your throat, and after a growled answer from Shigaraki, Dabi entered the room. His voice was bored as ever while he spoke, something about needing Shigaraki back in the war room because their scouts had spotted something. A grunt left the king as he started to get up, unable to stop himself nipping at your neck before he pulled away, the red already blooming had him satisfied enough to slink over to Dabi and, in turn, leave you and Denki alone again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry this is all my fault-“ your anxiety took over the second the door closed, throat clogging up and tears clouding your vision. Kiri should have just left you to die, then none of them would be in this mess.

“C’mon, you’re okay, come back to me now.” Denki pulled your chest to his, forcing your breathing to follow his as he focused on calming you down. Your eyes slowly came back into focus, gold was the only thing you could see for a moment before Denki pulled back.

“Is that better?” His hand brushed the tears off your face, a comforting smile on his face. How could he look so angelic in this situation?

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You wiped your nose, humiliation setting in as you realised how pathetic you must look, you needed to be stronger if you were going to get out of here alive.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, this is a tough situation.” Denki shrugged, he didn’t want to pressure you into talking about your past, but something big had obviously happened. Your unease was still flooding through the bond, easily alerting Denki to the fact you weren’t fine, worse, you were lying to him about it. He just wanted to help. Maybe he should try and distract you? Opting to cheer you up any way he could, Denki cuddled into your side, making sure he was monitoring how you felt though the bond. Your gaze shifted as the blonde rubbed over your skin, making a noise you could only describe as a croon while his face nuzzled against your neck. The noise was… weirdly comforting, and it wasn’t long before you felt some of the anxiety leaving you. Denki was over the moon, you were responding so well! His crooning picked up at how happy he was, and you let your head rest on his shoulder, your own hands finding his and intertwining with them. You were almost asleep when the door opening had you jumping awake, Denki slowly blinking as he figured out what had spooked you. Confusion was all that remained when you saw Dabi there, Shigaraki nowhere to be seen as he closed the door behind him.

“I talked to Shoto, I’m gonna help you out.”

“Dabi agreed to help us, but in return he wants Shigaraki alive, for himself. It’s the best chance we have, he’s the kings right hand.” Shoto deadpanned, completely unbothered by the snarling warrior being held back by Kirishima next to him.

“I wanna rip that bastard to shreds, fuck Dabi, we can do this without him.” Katsuki finally managed to get out after he’d been calmed down, a task that took several minutes.

“It’d take longer, you really want to sacrifice Y/n and Denki so you can kill someone?” Hanta had to help hold Katsuki back at that remark from Shoto.

“Katsu, Shoto’s right, our priority needs to be getting them quickly, not killing Shigaraki.” Mina placed her hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, the thing that finally calmed him down enough to mumble out a fine and get on with the actual planning.

“Finally, now what we’re going to do is cause a distraction on the battlefield, during which Dabi will knock out Shigaraki and get Denki and Yn to a safe destination we’ll go to after the battle. Now, onto the details…”

“You’re what? No way, it’s a trap right? Shigaraki is testing my loyalty? I’m not falling for something like this again.” You shook your head as you paced the room, Denki still sitting on the bed and Dabi lounging on a chair next to the desk. It was exactly the kind of thing that bastard would do.

“Bakugo told me to tell Denki about the dandelions.” Dabi ignored your rant, instead turning to Denki and raising his eyebrows at the blonde. Lower lip between his teeth, The blonde slunk over to you, grabbing your hand tightly before he spoke.

“It’s not a trap, Y/n, he’s telling the truth.”

“You don’t know that, what if they captured someone that told him?” You hissed, eyes darting over to the nonchalant figure in the chair.

“Hey, you asked me to trust you before, I need you to trust me now. Okay?” He presses a kiss to your cheek when he was finished, and despite your best efforts that smile got to you, made you relax and squeeze his hand.

“I-Fuck. Okay, I trust you.”

Taglist under the cut (let me know if there are any problems/you want to be added)

@averydrearydiana@wolfygecko@baby-snart@ssnaketongue@that-one-piece-oftrash@emilysimaginesblog@generousdigitalartartghost@slowly-gently@toffee1812@izzys-complete-insanity@sexisquid@icecreamguru03@tessamarie22@peculiar-faerie@lunaralpha270@max7500@graduatedmelon@everstrange1@saltytocrusade@dark-side-blog2@tinyspacesaurus@shimyshimyagustd@teacaku@shinethesensational@yooalicee@radnickeltoadbat@superrllama@trinshappyplaces@kai-iaa@mini-kunoichi-universe@estellegladiolus@kirapholia@lemonmaim@skylerstorm2@phantomfunguschild@naked-canadians@meaper112@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx @elektraeriseros@alpacalunches@a-mistake-tbh@evienorville@kirapholia@lemonmaim

@skylerstorm2@naked-canadians@degenerate-yandere@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx@artificially-chill@brbgettingchocolates@redvelevetdog@zaboomanyoom@alpacalunches@bad-boquet-of-emotions@tokyohealth@okthensherlock@imlosingmyshit@smallangrynerd@cherry-mariss@frostfox382

[humanmoodring-retired]

Two Truths and Another Truth || Nadia and Skylar

Edit: Never edit things in mobile 

Skylar and Nadia (if that’s really her name it’s a little up in the air at the moment) are both totally, completely, and absolutely findjalfjal;

@theskyeandsea

Nadia, if that was really her name, paced in her living room as she tried to figure out what was going on. The name thing was that big of a deal. Okay, it was actually a big deal, but she thought it’d get sorted fairly easily. Maybe. She occasionally looked down at her phone, then looked away from it. No, the thing she was most worried about was the lying curse. Because she didn’t realize how much she lied in a fucking day until she couldn’t. And now she just wanted to word vomit everything out, her fears, her insecurities, the fact that she hasn’t been fine in the twenty-seven years that she’s been alive. There’s only so much you could avoid before people got worried. Now she was without a crutch, and she felt like she was going to fall. There was a knock at the door, causing Rhiannon to raise her head from where she was dozing on the couch. Striding over to the door, she opened the door. “Hey, Skylar,” she said, a tired smile on her face.

Before she’d left her apartment, Skylar had double and triple checked that her seal skin was kept hidden in the back of her closet, as tucked away as she could get it. But, after spending most of the day with it next to her, she felt… more on edge, more worn out, more tired. Even though she’d only just changed yesterday. It couldn’t have been a side effect, of turning, could it? Shaking her head as she walked up to the door, she let out a small sigh. Nope, she wasn’t going to think about that right now. She was going to talk to Nadia, meet her new kitten, and see if she could help her out with this magical… garbage situation. When the door swung open, Skylar smiled as brightly as she could muster. “Hi. I’d ask if you’re doing okay, but I kinda get the feeling that might… be a lot. So, um, thanks for having me.” She said as she stepped inside. Glancing over at the couch, she saw the fuzzy grey kitten sleeping on the edge and she smiled. “That’s your new little roommate, hm? Rhiannon, right?” She asked, hoping she’d pronounced it right. The name was a little awkward on her tongue.

Not Nadia could see that Skylar probably felt as bad as she did, even if she did try to put on a bright smile. But Skylar looked absolutely exhausted, and she couldn’t say that she wasn’t tired, but she was used to it. Or, as used to it as a person could get. Still, she laughed a bit as she let Skylar in. “If you asked if I was okay, I’d feel inclined to answer, I think. It’s harder to, like, reign in my thoughts and words in person. I can’t lie, and I don’t have a name, so it’s a gr- weird day.” She frowns as the word catches in her throat. “But I’m glad you came over.” She watches Rhiannon wake up a bit and look from her to Skylar. Hoping to communicate “DON’T BITE” telepathically, she smiled as Skylar said her name. “That’s her. Rhiannon. Little Shit. Asshole. All are names that suit her.”

“You can’t lie? Like… not even a little white lie?” Skylar asked, her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. She’d never heard of anything like that happening before. Granted, she didn’t know hardly anything about any of this, but when Winston had been all… ‘Not-Winston’ she didn’t think they had been unable to lie. “I’m really sorry, that sounds like an awful time. But, um, maybe I can help? Or at least, try to?” She offered. All Winston had told her was not to make any promises to Regan and that, while she wasn’t malicious, she should be careful around her. Glancing down at the kitten, she hesitated before reaching out with timid fingers to let Rhiannon smell her. That was how you were supposed to approach animals, right? “Aw. She seems really cute, but I’ll take your word on her being a handful.” She said with a nod. 

“I can’t lie, no,” Not Nadia said. “Not at all. I think I’ve been cursed, but I also could’ve been, like, drugged or truth serumed or who knows, really?” She rubbed at her arms a bit. She couldn’t really think about what she’d done in the past twenty-four hours (and it had to have been pretty fucking recent, given how much she’s noticed about not being able to lie) that would cause something like this to happen. She’d been to the beach, to the library, to the grocery store, and then back home. Not too much people interaction during that time, but she just didn’t know. “It’s not… Awful is a word that I’d probably use, yeah, but I’m,” she cut herself off, took a sharp breath, “alive. Always good to be alive. But, yeah, any help is better than no help. I think… I know what caused it. I’m just waiting, you know. For it to get fixed.” And it should. It should. She watched Rhiannon carefully as she sniffed Skylar’s fingers, waiting for the kitten to get up to something nefarious. Instead, all Rhiannon did was like Skylar’s fingers. And keep licking them. She frowned. “She’s pretty cute. Uh, if she bothers you, just let me know and I’ll put her in my room. But how are you? Seriously, this name business isn’t, like, the most pressing matter in my life, How’s… Are you good? Are you, you know, feeling all right?”

“Cursed..?” Skylar echoed, trying to make sense of that statement. How could Nadia be cursed? Was this like another part of the Fae magic thing? Or was it something else? Watching her body language, she listened intently to Nadia’s words. “What do you think caused it? And erm, do you mean the not lying thing or the no-name thing? Or were they both caused by the same thing?” She asked, a little confused. There was just so much about the situation that didn’t make any sense to her. As Rhiannon licked at her fingertips, Skylar squirmed a little, the sensation of the cat’s rough tongue uncomfortable on her skin. Withdrawing her hand, she stuck her hand in the pocket of her light jacket. “She’s very cute. Um, no, she’s fine. Rough things just feel weird to me.” She said off-handedly. Everyday little touches and scrapes always bothered her a little bit more than they did to most people-- just another aspect of being hard of hearing, she supposed. “I’m okay!” Skylar said with a nod, though the gnawing worry in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. Nope, she wasn’t going to think about her problems right now, she was here to help Nadia.

“Yeah, cursed or maybe something else, I really don’t know,” Not Nadia murmured. “I get that this is very weird, I’m a little weirded out myself, and this isn’t the weirdest thing ever. I don’t think the name thing and the truth thing are connected, though. I was telling the truth before I gave R- someone my name.” Her phone buzzed several times in a row. When she checked a group message with both her and Blanche in it, she remembered her name. “Oh. Okay, yeah. My name is Nadia. That’s,” she frowned a bit. “That felt weird.” Nadia walked over to where Skylar and Rhiannon were, sitting down and lightly rubbing the kitten’s back. She was rewarded with her hand being bitten, but lightly. “And I’m still feeling pretty truth-y, so now I definitely know they’re not related, which would’ve been better to explain. But don’t worry; I won’t let her, like lick you again.” Nadia’s frown grew as she looked over at Skylar, almost thinking that she could feel the other woman’s emotions. “Okay, see, I know I can’t lie, but I can definitely tell when I’m being told one. What’s up? Seriously, I’m fi-” The word gets stuck. “I want to know how you’re really doing.”

Skylar blinked in confusion, but nodded. Maybe nodding would trick her into thinking that this was all logical and normal and totally fine, like when you smile to make yourself feel happy. But, before she could comment, Nadia looked at her phone and seemed to go back to normal? “Wait, what? You’re, you know that you’re Nadia? What just happened?” Skylar asked, staring incredulously. Was there some kind of text ghost who was taking people’s names? She bit inside of her cheek while the other woman seemed to brush the incident off. “I-- okay. So the truth thing really wasn’t at all connected to the name thing. Did you talk to anyone else who’s erm… not entirely human about telling the truth?” She asked, not entirely sure how to frame things. Grimacing at her words, Skylar shook her head. No, no. She really didn’t want to talk about her feelings. If she did, she might burst into tears or explode or just lose it-- no, she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m okay.” She repeated, “I’m just… I’m here to help you right now.”

Nadia could practically feel Skylar’s confusion. “I’m… not doing a good job in explaining this. I’m sorry. It turns out that even when I’m spouting out the truth uncontrollably that it still doesn’t make sense. The… the person that took my name just texted me and gave it back. This person didn’t, exactly, mean to take my name, and I didn’t mean to give it to them when I did, but it just ended up happening. It’s, like, the pièce de résistance of my day. Really. Icing on top of the cake. But, it’s over, I have it back, and I didn’t really miss it that much to begin with.” She frowned. “Ignore that last bit. You know, actually, as far as I know, the other two people who have been affected by the truth thing are both human. I think. I’m not too sure about one of them.” She felt an overwhelming sadness, and she couldn’t think about what she was sad about. “Skylar, really, I’m fi-ungh. Okay, I’m not fine, but I haven’t been in, like, a long time. I mostly wanted you to come over to see how you were doing. You had me worried. Especially a few weeks ago when you told me that you didn’t want help. Which, this isn’t me offering, even though I really want to, because I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but… Yeah. I was worried. And I’m talking way too much.”

The continual flow of words was beginning to wear down on Skylar, but she kept her eyes focused on Nadia’s lips in an attempt to pick up the slight slack that her hearing aids just couldn’t pick up. The bit of French threw her off her rhythm for a moment, but when Nadia frowned and shrugged off the words, Skylar presumed it wasn’t all that important to have picked up. At least, she hoped it wasn’t. “Okay,” She said slowly with a nod. “As long as you’re okay with the whole name thing. I guess the truth thing will just… sort itself out? Maybe?” Watching as Nadia seemed to struggle with her words, she continued to frown. But as she kept on speaking, the conversation took a turn, away from Nadia’s situation and back towards her own. Her fingers tightened in the pocket of her jacket, her shoulders tensing. She didn’t-- she didn’t want Nadia to have to deal with her problems. “I took care of my situation. I took care of it, it’s fine, it’s done. It’s not a big deal, okay?” She insisted. “I don’t… I don’t want to be this way, but I am. And I’m figuring it out.”

It took Nadia far too long to understand Skylar’s confusion, but she eventually noticed the way the other girl was struggling to keep up. She felt like an ass. She was an ass. “And I’m such a fucking dick. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” She began to sign I’m sorry a couple of times, continuously making the clockwise motion. She wasn’t great in sign language, but she knew how to say sorry in multiple languages. She was always apologizing for something. She liked to have her bases covered. “I’m sorry,” she said out loud one more time, extracting her other hand from Rhiannon’s grip. This is usually the part where she’d cover her face with her hands, but instead she just leaned her head back against the couch. She let her eyes scan over Skylar, taking in her tense shoulders and defensive posture. “Oka-” the word got stuck again, but she’s not particularly surprised. “You don’t have to talk about it,” she tried again. “I’m glad you’re figuring things out. You don’t have to talk about it.” The last thing Nadia wanted to do was upset the other girl. Things like this could either go the sad route or the angry route, and she didn’t want Skylar to have come all the way over here just to be upset. 

Blinking as Nadia began to sign “sorry” in quick succession, Skylar shook her head, holding up her hands apologetically. “No, no, you’re okay. People forget, it’s okay.” She said with a strained smile. At Nadia’s words, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. All she wanted to do was help. That was it. And… it was honestly really kind of her to even offer. Rubbing her temples, Skylar mentally weighed her options. She didn’t want to talk about this, she really didn’t. But she also didn’t want to make Nadia feel bad about this-- she liked Nadia a lot and didn’t want her to think she was causing a problem. Ugh. Letting out a sigh, Skylar looked up at the ceiling of the apartment, not meeting Nadia’s eyes. “I changed on my own the other day. Into… you know,” Skylar made the sign for seal, grimacing as her hands clapped together, “And it went… fine. It just brought up more baggage for me to deal with, but it’s fine. I’m going to be fine.” She said.

“I--” Nadia paused. “Still. I don’t think it’s okay.” She watched as Skylar seemed to mull things over. She kind of hated that she was making the other woman think about this so hard. But she listened as Skylar spoke, though she cocked her head to the side for a bit trying to understand Skylar’s sign before it clicked that she meant seal. It was kind of a cute gesture. “Okay. It’s good that you did it on your own. When we were texting I was… I was worried you wouldn’t. But, I mean, if this is the first time, I can imagine it might be difficult.” She didn’t know what Skylar meant by more baggage. She didn’t know if she should ask. “What-- It’s-- You don’t have to be fine, you know? I mean, I’m not. Can’t even lie about it. And I don’t really know what you’re going through, but it’s not something you have to be fine with if you don’t want to.”

Slipping her hands out of her pockets, Skylar folded her arms across her stomach, hugging herself as she shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the ground. Mmmmm. Nadia was only trying to help, she was only trying to help, that’s what she kept repeating to herself. “It’s not exactly the first time. It’s just the first time I chose to do it for myself. That first time no one forced me into it. Or tricked me.” She mumbled shaking her head. The woman’s next words were what caught her attention. That it was okay to not be fine? That… that wasn’t true. She had to be okay, she had to be fine, because if she wasn’t, then things would just keep piling up and it would all just weigh down on her until she couldn’t handle it anymore. Sucking in a deep breath, Skylar glanced up to look Nadia in the eyes. “I know. I know that. But, if I keep telling myself I’ll be okay, maybe it’ll be true.” Swallowing, she shifted her gaze. “I’m sorry. I came here to help and now you’re trying to help me and… I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Nadia said. Alright, that was probably where the baggage came from. God, she couldn’t imagine that. Being lied to and tricked into doing something, even if it was to help you, couldn’t be good for your mental health. That had to put a bunch of fucked up strain on your ability to trust and… Nadia couldn’t imagine. She felt awful for Skylar. “Then it’s a first time. It’s good. That you made that choice for yourself.” When Skylar looked her in the eyes, Nadia felt her heart drop. Those words were too real, too personal, and she couldn’t even tell them to herself anymore. “I… hope that works for you. It hasn’t ever worked for me.” She thought about reaching out, putting her hand on Skylar’s shoulder, something. Nadia was incredibly touch starved, but she didn’t know how Skylar felt about it. She knew some people really hated being touched. “Hey, no, don’t, like, apologize. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s helped to, like, be around another person, honestly.”

Good wasn’t how Skylar would describe what she’d been through. Good wasn’t exactly how she would think of realizing that her parents had never told her the truth, that they’d allowed her to come so close to death every moment of her life. Good… wasn’t right. But, Nadia didn’t need to know about all her issues. So Skylar merely nodded “I made the choice, mhm. And that makes a difference. It really does.” Looking back at Nadia, she shrugged. “It’s kind of like the whole… “if you smile, you start to feel happy” thing. The more you do it, the easier it gets.” She said. Her lips pursed together in a slight smile, but she continued all the same. “Are you sure? You’ve been through… a lot. Just from what you’d told me about the whole… possession situation and now this truth thing? It’s a lot. You don’t need more on your plate.”

It didn’t quite sit right with Nadia, the way Skylar phrased her statement, but she wasn’t going to push it. It was enough that the other woman was acknowledging that she had the choice to decide what to do with what she was. Even if she didn’t have any positive experience around it, she could build them, if she wanted. Nadia wasn’t going to mention that now, though. So she nodded along with Skylar. She even laughed a bit at the smiling thing. “Yeah, I think there’s a scientific study behind that. Something about it tricking your brain? I wish.” She sighed a bit. “I’m sure that you’re helping, and I’m sure that you don’t have to apologize. Everything else is really kind of up in the air. The possession thing… happened. I am… learning to live with it. This truth thing is a major inconvenience, but it could be worse. I mean, if I solely focus on my own problems, I’m going to drive myself nuts because I--” Nadia frowned and clamped her jaw shut. No need to go there.

“Mhm, that’s the one.” Skylar said, relaxing at the way Nadia laughed at it. Laughing, laughing was good. And, on the brightside, the other woman didn’t seem to protest the change in conversation, which she was grateful for. She wanted to help her, she wanted to help Nadia. That’s why she’d come here, not to unload her own situation. Humming sympathetically, Skylar’s fingers relaxed at her sides, no longer hugging herself as tightly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. What do--” She stopped herself before she continued that thought. It wouldn’t be right of her to ask Nadia what she meant by that, not right now. “Okay. What if… what if we both try to help each other. So we’re not focusing on just ourselves. I can help you try and narrow down what might be causing this whole… truth thing. And you can help me,” Skylar swallowed, a lump forming in the back of her throat. “I don’t know… maybe you could help me figure out how to be more comfortable with all of this? This magic stuff? I don’t know, I’m just spitballing.”

Nadia tried to wave Skylar off. “It’s fi-- Ugh. I hate that word. I’m managing a lot better than I thought I would when I first woke up, let’s put it that way.” She watched the other woman ease up a bit. When she offered for the two of them to help each other out, Nadia could tell that it was all a bit much for Skylar, but she appreciated what the other woman was offering, and she truly did believe that they could help each other. “I think we can do that, yes. The truth thing… we should be able to figure that out. I’m not the only person afflicted, too, so this wouldn’t just be helping me, which means it’s actually beneficial.” She smiled comfortingly as Skylar. “And I can try to help with that. But I’ve got to warn you, I’m just a ghost-hacked human. There’s lots of other people in town that might be better with this. But I know what it’s like to be thrown into this shit without any clue what’s going on. So I can try.”

“That’s good, at least. It seems like you’re doing better than when I talked to you a couple weeks ago. The whole, um, not sleeping thing.” Skylar said with a slight wince. She wasn’t overstepping her bounds by mentioning it, was she? She wasn’t really sure what the etiquette on talking about possession was. “Okay. Mhm.” Skylar nodded. “Do you think someone directly caused this? I know you said they weren’t connected, but does it feel like when you lost your name, but it’s compelling you to tell the truth?” She asked. Maybe if Nadia could describe how it felt, that would narrow down possibilities? Ugh. She was grasping at straws, she didn’t know how any of this worked. “That’s true. But… you’re a friend. And I kinda need those more than I need people trying to tell me how to live my life.”

“I’m doing better, yeah. I usually sleep around six to eight hours, not necessarily consecutively, for every twenty-four hour period that I’m awake,” Nadia said, slightly wincing at her words. “Although I slept for an uninterrupted twelve hours after I went out for Valentine’s, which was nice.” She tried to think about what it felt like. “I can’t really tell, maybe? Not the same kind of person, though, I don’t think. I never made a promise, or verbally told someone I wouldn’t lie. It feels like… I go to say something, and, if it’s even a bit, like, false, I’m not saying it. My throat closes up, my hand stops typing correctly. And then I want to blurt shit out. Like, full frontal honesty.” Thinking about it more helped a bit, because she was beginning to tell that there was definitely magic involved. Not like the fae magic Regan used to take her name, or that weird feeling she’d gotten when she hadn’t been careful around the karkinoids. There was a difference to this. “I’ve never been cursed, so I can’t tell if this was, like, done by a person or a thing.” She smiled a bit brighter when Skylar called her a friend. She felt a bit stupid about it, like a child begging for attention, but she was happy all the same. “I see you as a friend as well. And I agree. I have no intention of telling you how to live your life. I’m not exactly in a position to give that kind of advice.”

Startled, Skylar stared at Nadia in shock. What? She’d been running on that little sleep this entire time? How was she still functioning? Granted, Skylar knew she slept more than the average person, particularly when things were bad for her. But, still. That couldn’t be normal. Pushing the thoughts from her head, Skylar focused her attention on the truth situation. She couldn’t really help Nadia with anything ghost related, but maybe she could help with this. “Hm. Okay... So it’s probably not related to a person. Which is kinda helpful, kinda isn’t. Mm.” Tapping her fingers against her side, Skylar quirked her lips. “Maybe… did you ever touch the chest? The chest, it was cursed too. But, not in any kind of truth telling kind of way. I, erm, I touched it and got like these horrible chills? And a couple of other people who’d touched it also felt the same way.” She said before shaking her head. But, they’d broken the curse when they’d opened the chest. And that awful eyeball thing had crawled out… “Thanks. I appreciate that a lot.”

Nadia tried to think back to when she, Beatrice, and Arthur had been near the chest. She’d never touched it, although she’d felt compelled to. Arthur was the only one that even sort of touched it by getting the charcoal etches. “No, I never touched it, although I did get gutted by a karkinoid trying to get to it.” Damn, that was probably a bit much. “I’m fine now,” she added quickly. “But, no, I didn’t touch it the other day when I went back either. You touched it? Christ, I’m glad you’re okay.” She thought about what she’d heard, about the awful coldness that came with the chest. She hadn’t felt as compelled to touch the horrible thing when she’d taken one of the coins the other day, but still. She hoped it couldn’t still do that to people. Impulsively, she reached out to pat Skylar on the shoulder. “Hey, dude. It’s no problem. Seriously.”

“Wait, you what?” Skylar blurted out, incredulous. Had she been stabbed like Remmy-- was Nadia a zombie too? But she slept and she’d actually managed to say that she was fine, unlike the other times in their conversation. “You’re sure you’re okay?” She asked, concerned. “No, I’m fine, I’m okay. It went away when we opened the chest and it went away for the other people who opened it too. But, I don’t… I’m not sure what else it could have been if it wasn’t the chest itself. Hrm.” She shook her head. When Nadia reached out to pat her shoulder, Skylar relaxed into the touch, more out of instinct than anything else. “I-- still. It means a lot to me, it really does.”

Flinching a bit, Nadia said, “I was, uh, like, snipped. I tripped, and one of the karkinoid’s claws caught my side pretty bad. But someone healed me; there’s not even a scar, so, besides a bit of psychological trauma over the fact that I had all but accepted my death in that one moment, I’m all good, physically.” There were also a few ruined articles of clothing, but those were insignificant. “Okay, that’s good. So, you were there? You were one of the ones that opened it?” Raising her eyebrows, Nadia thought back to the translation that she, Beatrice, and Arthur had managed to uncover. “So, you were one of the pure of heart, huh?” She grinned. “Makes sense.” When Skylar relaxed into her touch, Nadia felt herself relax a bit, too. She really went to long without physical contact, usually. “It means a lot to me that you’re helping with this, too, you know? You don’t have to, but I’m glad you are.”

Seeing the way Nadia reacted, Skylar winced. She shouldn’t have pried. Of course it was something that she was still dealing with. And the torrent of objective truth didn’t help either. “I--I shouldn’t have asked. I’m glad you’re okay now… at least, physically. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She said, wishing that she’d never asked. She didn’t want to put the other woman through that again. But, at the words pure of heart, it was her turn to twitch uncomfortably. “I guess so. It opened up when we worked together, so it wasn’t just me.” She said with an awkward shrug. “It’s just the right thing to do, you know? There’s… a lot of messed up stuff happening and I want to help people if I can.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Nadia said. “You’re not the first person I’ve told about it, and, with the way this truth thing is going, you probably won’t be the last. I’m just hoping I don’t end up telling someone who, like, isn’t going to believe me.” She felt bad that she’d made Skylar uncomfortable, but, hell, after going through all the trouble to translate that demonic gibberish, she was just glad it had been fruitful. “Well, you and whoever you worked with did a fucking awesome job. You helped a lot of people.” She smiled. “And I’m grateful you’re helping me.” She watched her phone light up, a notification from someone coming in, and saw the time. “It’s getting late. Do you need to get home? Do you want to stay here for the night?” 

“Still… Either way, I’m glad that it all worked out. No more fish rain, no more cold curse, no more weird creepy magic.” Skylar replied. The chest was gone, it was all over.  Or, at least, she hoped the chest was gone. She hadn’t exactly stuck around after the eyeball incident and she had no intention of going anywhere near the beach again. When Nadia checked her phone, Skylar glanced at her watch and blinked in surprise. It was that late? Already? “I had no idea it was that late-- I’ve got to get back home. Work tomorrow, I have to be up early.” She said with a grimace before making her way towards the door. “But, if I find out anything more about this whole truth situation, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Right,” Nadia agreed, though something didn’t set right in her stomach. Fuck, that chest had been weird. And it was still there, just sitting, open, surrounded by coins and shit. At least the karkinoids were gone, mostly. As Skylar said she needed to get home, Nadia nodded her head. “Be safe. It’s, well, it’s White Crest out there.” She tried to joke, but it probably fell flat. “And that sounds good. I’ll let you know if I find out anything, too. I’m hoping it’s just limited to the three of us, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this shit.” She watched Skylar leave and then sagged against the couch. Rhiannon crawled in her lap, purring. Nadia sighed. “Fuck.”

[peace-love-piper]

Before the Mugwumps Concert

Where: Borgin & Burke’s, Knockturn Alley

Who: Piper, Cass, Maeko, Oz

When: 29 December 2015

Summary: Before going to a concert (tickets provided by Flitterby Radio Station), two unusual new acquaintances learn some important information about each other.

[NOTE: This drabble is a collab with Kira - I will edit this if we decide to eventually add more to it!]

Cass couldn’t really believe that Piper lived in Knockturn Alley. He kept his head down, trying to avoid being seen- or rather, trying to avoid seeing the people he knew. A lot of donor addicts and shady, predatory vampires hung around there, their feeding habits were too destructive to go somewhere like Caro. Cass didn’t want to consider himself among them, so when he found Piper’s address he knocked on the door rather hastily, and didn’t really think about who had let him in until he was in the store.

“Well hello, scrumptious.” Cass frowned at the decidedly not-Piper’s voice, whirling around to find a dishevelled looking, half-naked wizard standing there, chin resting in his hand as he swept a gaze over Cass. Cass felt self-conscious being looked at. He dressed differently for gigs, all leather jackets, tight trousers and a pink button-up shirt that had a few too many buttons open. Cass even wore a large, ornate silver cross with some other chains. For cheek. 

“Erm, I think I’m in the wrong place… I’m here to see Piper.” Cass said awkwardly, stepping back to leave when he bumped into something, which immediately elicited a high pitched screaming sound. Cass squeaked, clamping his hands over his ears. “I’m sorry!”

It was truly mind-boggling, thought Oz, where Piper Oliver managed to find all the most delectably nervous little nerd boys. As if they flocked to her like bees in a fuckin hive. And maybe they did—Oz still didn’t really understand her whole Veela-thing. 

Not like he was complaining, though. The opposite; a stroke of brilliant luck him and Maeko had stumbled unknowingly into when Piper Oliver had waltzed through their front door, bringing not just her sunshiney good cheer (which was in dire need around these gloomy nooks of town) but also Loxley with his stupid-cute puppy and his floppy hair and his uncanny penchant for growing weed.

And this pale leather-clad gawky little snack. 

“Hmm, Piper…not ringin any bells m’afraid…” Oz drawled exaggeratedly, drumming his fingers on his facial hair facetiously, “…Mae, d’you know a ‘Piper?’” 

Maeko, who was sitting on the stairs and licking closed an absolutely impeccable spliff, shrugged her shoulders, playing along. Her bright blue eyes glinted wickedly as she said, “Pipe? I’m more of a papers-girl, myself…” before she stuck the spliff in her mouth indicatively and sparked the end of it with a snap of her fingers, blowing thick smoke rings toward their skittish visitor. Oz snickered loudly at the joke; he did love his half-sister’s wit. 

He moved closer to the boy, causing the other to knock into a hideous and honestly just a bit phallic oxblood-red statue that was standing up near the door, which promptly began to shriek and wail quite wretchedly. Oz exchanged a look with Maeko, dropping their Torment-the-Cute-Boy Act, and she stood up, her brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

Just then Piper appeared at the top of the stairs, a vision in distressed acid-washed bell-bottoms and an embroidered halter crop top, her hair feathered out gold like a disco goddess—actual gold, metallic that caught the light. Honestly if Oz were to ever entertain the notion of being with a woman, it would be Piper Oliver. She skipped down the stairs, frowning prettily and said, raising her voice to be heard over the mewling echoing sound, “What is—oh, hello Cass! What is that? Some sort of alarm?”

“Yeah…” Maeko said, handing Piper the lit spliff before walking closer to the statue to examine it. “…but it must be broken. Supposed to detect vampires.”

Maeko set the statue back right-side and it suddenly stopped wailing. And then all three of them—Piper, Maeko, and Oz—looked at Cass expectantly.

Cass looked down at the piece of parchment Piper had scribbled her address on and frowned, then looked up and between the two strange wix in the shady store. No way would someone as cool-looking as Piper live in a dump like this, anyway. “I-uh, I c-could’ve just got the wrong address. N-No worries.” He said hastily, shifting uncomfortably at the way Oz was looking at him. It reminded him rather oddly of the way vampires looked at some prey.

He was coughing from the sudden intrusion of smoke blown in his direction, waving his hand in front of his face, and trying to back away from the wizard when he bumped into it, and Cass was immediately overhwelmed, mostly by the screeching sound- which felt like it was aching right into his fucking core, a nail being pressed into his skull. Cass squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his hands down a little harder- he didn’t see or hear Piper’s arrival. HIs Dad had warned him about stuff like this. Vampire detection alarms, they kept people like him practically immobilised while hunters could go and grab their stakes… Panic seized Cass and he tried to turn, tried to run, but his head hurt so fucking much that even thinking about leaving hurt just a little more.

Suddenly, the sound was gone and Cass’ shoulders sagged with relief. He looked between the two wix with wide, nervous eyes, about to step back again to scramble away when he saw Piper standing there, staring at him. All three of them were staring at him, actually. Cass just stood there, folding his arms to squeeze his shoulders up. “Uh- um- it’s not… S’not broken. I can… I- I can go. Sorry.” 

He didn’t blame her for having one of them, really. People didn’t know what they didn’t know. Cass turned to leave, being very, very careful of the statue by the door, eyeing it carefully as he edged past it and towards the entry again.

Piper drew in an inaudible little gasp and the muscles in her body stiffened instinctually from where she was stood on the bottom step of the staircase. “Vampires?” she said in a small voice, her eyes wide, the smoke from the forgotten spliff in her hand twisting and writhing up toward the high ceilings. It was a silly reaction, Piper knew it was; she was an open-minded and loving person, who tried her very best to be accepting of all living things on earth—but that seed of mistrust had been planted in Piper’s brain so, so long ago, nurtured into persistent fear and wariness by her mother and her cousin and the tragedies that had befallen her kind at the hand of vampires and magical society in recent years, that the uneasiness came before Piper could stop it. 

Piper watched Cass stumble through some words and make to retreat from the house, her forehead dimpling in confusion; everything had happened fast and Piper was slow on the uptake, not immediately putting the pieces together. Maeko did, though, and a steely protective expression settled over her already harsh features. Being closest to the door, Maeko stepped in front of it, blocking Cass’ exit point, and she folded her arms in front of her chest; she was a wiry sort of thing, but something about her general presence exuded a formidable sense of power. Only a truly foolhardy idiot would try to cross Maeko Burke. 

Oz, unabashedly tactless as ever and with a near-compulsion to cut through obviously tense situations, looked at Cass and then at Piper and said with a grin, “Well twist my Irish nipples, Sugarplum—ya didn’t tell me your newest flavor was a vampire. The terms of your lease absolutely require that ya fuckin disclose any and all gorgeous vampy houseguests.” 

“I—I didn’t…” Piper stammered stupidly, looking between Oz and Maeko and then at Cass with an expression that was both apologetic and misunderstanding. Then, finally, she remembered. 

Cass wasn’t just Cass—he was Cassius Halestorm, well-known half-vampire, and Piper Oliver was the world’s most forgetful moron. She hadn’t avoided him when they were at Hogwarts, not intentionally—but Cass had always kept inside while restless energetic Piper explored every inch of the grounds. And even though he didn’t seem like a hugely loud or riotous person, Cass had been by association part of Tami’s out-and-proud social justice crowd, which Piper had purposefully avoided to protect her own secret. 

Everyone was looking at her very expectantly, and Piper turned several shades of dark distressed pink. She needed to say something, she was being extremely rude and looked very stupid and she knew that, it’s just that she’d been so caught off guard. And even though she didn’t want to think about it, the memories of that dark room in the Bureau of Secrets at the French Ministry flooded into her consciousness invasively, the predatory way that vampire had looked at her, turning Piper’s stomach with shame and terror and an uncomfortable, foreign sort of desire that she hadn’t been able to fight, cold and magnetic and unnatural…

“Piper?” Maeko said with sharp concern, and Piper snapped out of it. She shook her head forcefully; Cass was not the same vampire that Piper had met and she couldn’t carry on being paralyzed by her own fear and ingrained prejudice. So instead Piper focused on what she could control—the things she could know for certain, without any doubt. She concentrated on picking up the various energies that drifted through the room, discerning the familiar qualities of Oz’s and Maeko’s and then tuning those out to zero in on the one she didn’t know as well—Cass. Except for the smallest of irregularities that made it feel just a hint sharper when Piper took it in, it felt—normal, really. He was scared, too, and ashamed. Deep shame and disappointment and regret. 

Piper felt immediately awful and deeply embarrassed of herself. “Cass—wait! Don’t go…” she said hurriedly, rushing toward him and handing off the spliff to Oz as she passed him. “Please, we—we’re not like that, okay? You’re safe here and we…I don’t want you to go. Please?” She gave Cass an earnest, pleading look before looking past him to shoot a pointed glare at Maeko. Maeko held Piper’s look for a moment before rolling her eyes upwards, as if to say, Whatever, it’s your funeral, and then released the majority of her offensive stance and demeanor, while Oz muttered jokingly, “Fine by me if ya wanna stay forever....”

[kisstheashes]

👀👀👀 Got anything you can tell us about SP?

OH BOY! Alright. Since you didn’t ask for any particular chapter, you’re getting a SHITTON of info. *cracks knuckles* Let’s get started.

This ended up being long af so there needed to be a cut!

1) When I first had the idea for SP, I was heavily inspired not only by SAW in general but SAW II in particular. SAW II takes place in an abandoned house (SP takes place in an abandoned warehouse for the first 8 chapters), and every person had an individual trap made specifically for them (the first 8 chapters are split up by person, and Anti has unique methods for all of them).

2) SP was the first story I’ve planned out for years. And still YET, it’s not what it was supposed to be. The original ending for SP was basically…nearly everyone dies.

2.5) What almost became the real ending (not the original ending, a different idea) was something like this: Anti kills Chase and has Schneep, but that’s where the similarities end. (suicide TW ahead) Anti was supposed to take Marvin and make him a puppet. And Jackie, traumatized and desperate to find his brothers, leaves a barely functional JJ alone and without help. So JJ ends up killing himself with Chase’s old gun while Jackie is looking for Anti’s hideout. Jackie comes back and sees a dead JJ and loses it. He can’t cope. It was supposed to end with Jackie standing by JJ’s grave, feeling like an utter failure, and Anti approaches him, tells him that since there’s nothing left for him here, what’s he to lose by becoming a puppet? And Jackie goes with him. I can’t tell whether that’s more or less tragic than the real ending.

3) When I FIRST sat down to start writing the very first lines, I had no idea who my main character would be. It’s such a little moment, but I remember it so so clearly. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, just waiting to see who would wake up first (a la SAW style) and I actually recoiled when it was Marvin. I never paid him any attention before SP. And I just went “Ma…Marvin?? Are you sure brain?? MARVIN??” Yes, my brain was sure XD

4) First chapter. Everything happened as planned, which if you are a writer or know us, you know this is very rare. Everyone woke up, the narration was smooth, the characters were introduced so nicely, and their relationships with Anti were automatically all so different from each other. It went beautifully.

5) Chapter 2: Static Corruption. This chapter gave me issues. I originally wanted Anti to force Schneep to “operate” on one of his brothers, but the pieces weren’t moving in that direction. Then I was like ‘oh, I’ll still keep the operation table there because he’ll likely need it since Anti won’t want his puppets to die.’ That…was supposed to happen but didn’t. The operation table ended up being there simply to mock Schneep. I would 100% go back and redo how I did that so that would come across clearer, since I know it’s purpose was left very vague. 

5.5) I am so SO proud of Schneep’s corruption. To be honest, I had no fucking idea what I was doing. I was still learning about Anti and his powers, how he does things, and honestly I should go back and reread it because it came together so well. And Schneep was the first to go because he had already been corrupted, and weakened. He was an easy target, and Anti KNEW he needed Schneep because he can’t easily heal wounds. Anti’s smart like that.

6) Chapter 3 & 4: Burn Marks. Anti had to take out Marvin early. He knew this like he knew he needed Schneep. Marvin was not only powerful but he was hard to break. He was controlled. He wasn’t easily moved to rash decisions and as long as his breathing was steady, he was in control. Hence the collar in ch 3. Anti also knew that Marvin could not use as much magic if he didn’t have his wand, hence taking it from him in the beginning of the chapter. And he knew Marvin was scared of fire. 

6.5) Character analysis aside though, this chapter was my first true dive into torture. I’d never written torture before this chapter. Never. I surprised myself, honestly. When I wrote Anti sticking the raw blowtorch into the cauterized cut, I was floored. I kinda didn’t know it was happening until it did. XD And Anti forcing Marvin to eat his own flesh was…somehow logical to me? I was like ‘maybe since Anti eats flesh he thinks Marv will like it too.’ Which was wrong. He just wanted to torture my son. But these two chapters are everything to me, being my first delve into torture. Really, these chapters, and especially chapter four, started it all. I was really excited to write more gore. 

7) Ch 5: Consequences. Everyone hates this chapter. When I get new readers now, about half of them who ‘like’ every single chapter will skip ‘liking’ this chapter. Because I was ballsy and killed Chase. In front of his daughter. Not only did I kill Chase, I dismembered him and had Anti eat his organs. That’s ballsy as fuck, but at the time I had no idea it was so ballsy. What I did think might be too much and what I do regret is not killing Jasmine instantly and only making that an illusion. I’ve said this before. I still hate myself for it. I should have just outright killed her. I wrote it to showcase how awful Anti is. I took it out because I ws scared. I regretted it the moment I uploaded it, and that’s when I told myself I’d never censor my writing again. So I don’t. While that’s an awful moment in the series, I did learn a very valuable lesson that I will pass onto every writer I know. When it comes to awful deeds, don’t censor yourself.

8) Ch 6: Questionably Human. First of all, this chapter wasn’t supposed to exist, point blank, period. When I originally wrote SP, this chapter wasn’t there. I added it in because as I edited through and understood Marvin more, I knew Anti would understand he couldn’t leave Marvin alone through dealing with all of the other Septics. He’s too resilient. So I added this chapter in. And it was also my first true delve into psychological toture/manipulation with Anti. Which is very interesting with my Anti, because he can’t lie. Working an entire chapter around half truths and whole truths was tricky. It was a challenge. But y’know, I think it probably helped me be able to do other tricky dialogue, like with Maze. 

8.5) Because writing Schneep as a puppet deserves it’s own bullet. I had NO idea how I was going to do this. Because of how my Anti’s puppets work, I didn’t have a clue how to do this. Anti’s puppets keep their base personality so he can have them out in the world, undercover ect without anyone seeing anything weird. But they also don’t have thoughts of their own, or really wants of their own, besides very basic needs. This is a tricky combination when it comes to the stubborn, mood-swingy, irritable, mind of his own doctor. And honestly, I don’t know how I pulled it off. I can’t remember how I did this so well. It’s just a blank XD

9) Ch 7: Broken Toys. This is my personal favorite chapter. JJ’s chapter was unqiue in so many ways, because he had a legitimate past with Anti. Anti pretended to be his friend, then tortured him for days on end. So we have long flashbacks that portray this, and I was really nervous they weren’t blended well. They have a dialogue where JJ speaks only in his head, which is very unique. And in this chapter, I faced one of my squicks. I hate eye gore. Yet I braved it and took JJ’s eye out with a melonballer, then Anti ate it. That was fuckin gross, tbh. XD The ending of his chapter though. It changed 3 times. The original ending did make use of the operation table, but I hated it bc I didn’t know how to write puppet Schneep and scrapped it. I think the second ending was JJ bleeding out on the floor. The third ending is the meathook ending. Absolutely horrific ending, when you take into account 1) its fucking meathooks and 2) they had to be ripped out of healed muscle and skin. I went balls to the walls for this chapter as well, and it fucking payed off. 

10) Ch 8: Glitched Death. This is the start of the chapters that are like ‘I’m writing it but idk where it’s going.’ I had no idea any of it was going to happen, but damn I’m glad all of it did. And again with the ballsy moves, disabling Jackie was ballsy as fuck. It shocked a lot of people like nothing had before. Though my most proud moment of this chapter was the fight scene. The last time I’d written a fight scene was when I was ten. I didn’t do any research or nothing. I just DID. And I remember a comment was “I didn’t know you could write fight scenes!” I didn’t either. But I remember being really happy to write Marvin as such a badass :D To show that he was ready to kill Anti no matter the cost. The worst part of the chapter was writing Jackie pulling the meathooks out. I hated that. I hated it so much. Listen, I know JJ deserved better. And how many of you caught that Anti was very weak as this chapter ended? ;)

11) Ch. 9: Irrepareable Damage. This chapter was hard to write. I hadn’t jumped time like this for a long time. The first 8 chapters all take place in one night. Ch 9 took place over a month and a half, showcasing the immediate aftermath of what happened. Chase and his daughter were dead. Jackie was wheelchair bound. JJ had limited sight and mobility. Marvin’s panic disorder grew worse, and they all had night terrors. It was endlessly emotional. And then…you get to the end. And it hits you in the fucking gut. Anti carves his name into Marvin’s skin, while essentially having him drugged. And Marvin comes to, and sees the wound, and cries. He’s reaping what he sowed and he hates every minute of it.

12) Ch 10: Torn Stitches. I still don’t care for this chapter. It feels too dull. But you guys seemed to like it, so I guess that means its good, right? This chapter was special to me though, because I’d never touched on Marvin’s backstory much. And it was important to me that you all knew it, for some reason. Plus his old friends just fit into the narrative, so I indulged myself. And that’s the other thing. First chapters with OCs. I don’t care for Silas that much, but I really like Whitney. She’s fun. This chapter was necessary as well, so you could see all of the aftermath slowed down. See how damaged they are, and see the aftermath of the carving. Which I again smack ya’ll in the face with the end. 

13) As closing, this story is my baby. And i’ve got a lot more angst coming for it, even if only 2 chapters are left (supposedly). 42.5k words, 11 chapters, and we ain’t done yet. I’ve got huge plans for the next chapter, so watch out for it. ;)

Author Commentary?

[shadowream]

so i wrote something

Cause I love @phoenixqueene and she has been itching for a Voltron whump!fic lately.  I have in no way, shape, or form edited this.  It is garbage.  Especially the end cause I was being rushed to get to bed.  But here!  (Mostly just for easy access)  It’s kinda Klance-ish.  And it would have taken place at the end of S7.  Just be warned. :p

They were standing around the Bridge, all of them with worried expressions. How could they not be worried? Allura and Lotor were gone, vanished into the quintessence field like so many particles of space-dust. Lance scoffed under his breath. Even now, Lotor had him on edge. It wasn't even how close the new Emperor was with the Princess. There was something fishy going on. Lance knew it. But there was nothing he could do about it right now. They were already gone, beyond reach until they returned to this plane, this reality. So Lance stood, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, and stared at the viewing screens along with everyone else. He couldn't keep his hands still, though, not with his nerves so frayed. The fingers of his right hand, they fiddled. They twirled back and forth, moving the tiny white pill along each digit.

That pill. It was the last one. He was so screwed.

How he had managed to last this long was a miracle. He had been lucky that night, when this had all started. The night he had collected Hunk and gone out in search of Pidge. The mail had come earlier in the day, and he had stuffed the package into his jacket pocket without a second thought. And he had never bothered to take it out. How no one had heard all the rattling in their escape from the Garrison was anybody's guess. But Lance counted his blessings that they hadn't. His own laziness had probably saved his life.

These stupid headaches, they were awful. There was no reason for them. No doctor had ever been able to figure out the root cause. He just, had them. So he was given pills to try to keep them at bay. Three a day, the prescription read. That concept hadn't lasted very long. He figured out pretty quickly that he had to ration the pills out. First, he cut back to twice a day. Then one. He had suffered for it, too. There were so few days now when there wasn't a constant throb in his head. And no one had noticed.

Maybe that was because he hardly hung out with anyone anymore. Which was fine with him, really. He didn't want to be in the way. He was glad that his friends were all happy and enjoying what they were doing. He was glad no one had to see or hear him cry at night when the pain in his head got so bad that he couldn't sleep.

Back and forth, the pill twirled. Throb, throb, throb went his head. He was going to have to take the pill soon, before the pain got unmanageable. He needed to be able to function for when the Princess and Lotor returned.

Everyone's attention was caught by an alarm, and Lance looked with the others as they rounded on Coran. His hand stilled. He could hardly hear the words through the pounding of his own heartbeat through his skull. A ship? He followed the others to the hangar.

No one could see him. They were all in a rush. At the back of the pack, he slipped the little white pill from his pocket, and into his mouth. He swallowed it dry. They didn't need to know.

---

Was it the Quintessence? Was it the relief of the medication finallY taking effect? He didn't know. But he was certain that it had been many years since he had felt as good as he did while they fought inside of that Quintessence field.

---

It was over.  They made it.  They were alive.  How?  Lance wasn't all together sure.  It was a magic that he had been a part of, but by no means understood.  Lotor was gone.  The Castleship destroyed.  Shiro was alive.  Shiro was ALIVE!  How in the absolute QUIZNAK had everything gotten so turned around?!

Lance pondered it all as he sat at the edge of the cliff, looking out at the expanse of stars.  They were partially stranded, barely collecting themselves on a bare asteroid, reeling from their battle, scrambling to make plans.  Lance let them get about it.  They had never asked fro his input about that kind of thing before.  He doubted they would now.  Which was fine, because damn.  The adrenalin was fading.  And he had burned through his last pill.  He could barely keep his vision focused; the pain in his head was absurd.  So he never heard anyone approach.  And he jumped at the sudden voice right behind him. 

"Lance?"  It was Keith.  Why was he here?  "You okay?" What did he care? 

"Yeah," he answered automatically, plastering a smile to his face.  "Just taking in the sights before we leave."  Fuck, it hurt to keep the smile on.  He cursed in his mind as Keith took a seat beside him.  He didn't... he didn't want Keith to see him like this.  Lance was supposed to be stronger than this!

"It is beautiful, huh?"

"Yeah," Lance answered.  So what if it was a rhetorical question.  Fuck.  Were they really going to fade into small talk and awkward silence?  Lance shifted a bit, turning ever so slightly to hide a bit more of his face.  He couldn't keep up the smile.  But he couldn't bare to slip away from Keith either.

"You, uh..."  Lance looked to Keith from the corner of his eye.  Was that... was that a blush on his cheeks?  Or was it just the fading light?  "You did good, Lance.  With the fighting, I mean."  Why was Keith floundering for words?  "And uh, keeping the team together." 

Lance let out a huff of laughter.  "I didn't do much, really."

"What do you mean?"

Lance winced.  A crate had crashed behind them, the sound ringing in Lance's head.  It hurt.  "The team doesn't need me to keep it together anymore."

Lance could almost pretend that the grimace on his face was a smirk.  At least, he hoped it looked like that when he turned to look a bit more directly at Keith, because Lance could read Keith well enough now that that cute little quizzical look on his face meant that he was asking for Lance to elaborate.

"Hunk and Pidge are stuck at the hip.  Allura has grown above and beyond needing some flirtatious little problem like me hanging around, especially when she was busy working with Lotor.  Shiro... Shiro didn't need a right hand like me..."  It was getting hard to talk, the sound of his own voice increasing the pounding in his head.

"Lance what on earth are you saying?"  Lance flinched and looked away again.  "Of course the team needs you."

He lifted a hand, wiping at his eyes.  Maybe it would look like he was wiping away tears of emotion, rather than of pain.  Fuck.  His head always hurt worse when he cried.

"What the heck is going on in that pretty little head of yours?" Keith asked, lifting a hand to poke at Lance's temple.  He recoiled in shock when his fingertip touched sweat-slick skin, and Lance let out a cry of pain.  Whatever was going on with the others behind them stopped at the noise.  "Lance?  Lance what's wrong!"

Lance held his head in his hands, leaning over his knees and over the edge of the cliff, hunching in on himself.  It hurt!  Fuck, it hurt! Tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped off of his chin.  His breath whistled through clenched teeth.  Fuck!

The pain spiked when he heard Keith's yelling voice right beside him.  "I don't know!  I just- I touched his temple, that was it!"  It sounced like he was answering a question, but Lance had never heard one asked.  Then came the grating sound of boots on gravel, and three new hands on him.   He was being dragged backwards, away from the cliff-fuck, he hadn't realized how far forward he had leaned- and forced to lay upon the rough ground.  When a cool hand came to brush his bangs away from his forehead, another cry of pain pushed past his lips, and he flinched away.

"Lance, Lance what's wrong?"  The pitch of Pidge's voice pierced, sharp stabs into his mind.

Lance tried to open his eyes, but all he could see were knees.  He was on his side, his head in someone's armored lap, the cool metal helping the ache in his head.  "My head," he whined before closing his eyes again.

Hunk's voice came from somewhere overhead. "Shit!  Oh my god, how did I forget!  Shit, Lance!"

"What," Keith demanded.  He sounded so loud, so close.  Lance flinched again and pressed his palms into his eyes.  "Forget what!  What's wrong with him!"

"Lance gets migraines," Hunk explained.  Was his voice always so rough against his eardrums?  "He took pills for it at the Garrison, but then when all of Voltron happened..."  His voice trailed off, ashamed.

"How in the hell did he survive out here without them?" Pidge asked sharply.

"I don't know!"  Hunk sounded distressed.

"Does he have any felt?" Keith asked.  "Go- go check in Red!"  A beat of silence.  "She said she'll allow it.  Go see if he has any!"

A thundering of boots rushed off and faded.  Lance couldn't help the whimper that escaped.

"I don't know if he would even have any left, Keith," Pidge cautioned.  "If he managed to bring any out here with us, they're most likely gone by now.  We've been away from Earth for a really long time..."

"Well then what do you suggest we do!"  Hands were on Lance's head again, and part of him hated how he leaned into the touch.  His hair was slick with sweat, and the hands brushed it away from his face.

"May I?"  Never before had Lance hated the sound of Allura's voice so much.

No words were exchanged, but the rough hands playing with his hair vanished, replaced by delicate, slender fingers touching gently to his temples, forcing his face skyward to be able to reach their destination.  Lance howled in pain at the pressure, until a soothing coldness flooded his head.  It felt so good!

The breath of relief flooded out of Lance, and he opened his tear-filled eyes with gratitude.  Above him, he could see Allura, her eyes closed in concentration, her skin radiating a gentle blue glow.  Hovering to one side was a worried Pidge, thumb in her mouth.  To the other side, and much closer, was Keith, his eyes so round and scared.  Was he the one who was holding Lance's head in their lap?  Lance hoped so.

All too soon, the sweet, sweet relief started to face, and throbbing head flooded his mind once more.  He closed his eyes, seeking the shelter of the blackness of his eyelids, as the pressure of Allura's fingers vanished from the sides of his head.  An earthquake vibrated through his skull as Hunk returned.

"Did you find anything?"  It sounded like Keith was yelling into a megaphone.

"No, no I couldn't find anything-" Hunk was clearly out of breath from running, but he was still far too loud.  Lance tried to bury his face into Keith's lap.

"Then what are we going to do-"

"I could try to make something-"

"That's not gonna work-"

"There has to be something-!"

Everyone was talking at once, and it was too much!  Too much!  Lance clutched at his head, pulling at his hair, sobbing.

"He seemed fine when Allura was touching him-"

"What you expect Allura to just hold his head the entire trip back home?"

"Well no, but-"

"Hunk we need something realistic!"

"It wasn't me."  Under him, Lance could feel Keith freeze.

"Well if it wasn't you, then what was it!" Keith demanded. 

Silence.

"You've got to be kidding me." 

"I am afraid I am not.  The Quintessence from my crystal was what helped clear the pain from his head.  If he were to wear it..."

"Oh he is just gonna love this..."

He whined as Keith's rough hands forced his head up out of the other Paladin's lap.  Rough grating dug at ears as someone knelt down.

"It'll only be until we get to Earth.  Then we can get him some medication.  See if we can fix this."

"I understand."

Something slid over his head, settling delicately over his sweaty hair just above his ears.  And from his forehead poured more of that sweet, cool relief.  A gasp pulled at his lungs with how quickly the pain vanished.  It was a miracle.

His eyes blinked open once more, the last few tears of his pain vanishing past his temples to get lost in his hair.  Allura pulled her hands back, a bittersweet smile upon her face.

"Lance, is that better?" she asked.  She sounded so worried.

It took a moment for Lance to find his voice.  When he did, it was thick and hard to use.  "Y-yeah.  What-  What did you-"  His eyes flicked over her face.  Something was different.  She had said something about her crystal.

The golden circlet that had so beautifully adorned her head was gone.

One shaky hand rose to touch at his own head, and he felt cool metal beneath his fingertips.  Allura smiled.

"Well that's one way of doing it," Pidge muttered.  She was still biting her thumb.

Lance sat up, pulling out of Keith's grasp, and he looked up at his friends.  He felt like he was back in the Quintessence Field, the relief was so complete.  A hand came to steady him at his back, and Lance looked to see Keith, his violet eyes still worried.

"I'm- I'm okay!"  His voice broke with a grateful laugh.  "Oh God, I'm okay!"  This was amazing!  Without even thinking about it, Lance stood and gathered Allura in his arms, hugging her close.  "Thank you.  Thank you so much!"

The Princess was slightly taken aback, still not accustomed to how much Lance seemed to touch others.  After a moment, she returned the hug, and hid her face in Lance's shoulder.  "You are certainly welcome.  I am very glad we were able to find something to help you so quickly."

"Yeah, what the hell dude!"  And suddenly Hunk was barging in between them, demanding Lance's attention.  "Why didn't you ever say anything!  We could have figured something to help you out sooner!"

"Did you even have any of your medication with you?" Pidge asked?

"Yeah, I uh..."  Lance scratched at his chin in mild embarrassment.  "I've been rationing them.  I took the last one earlier, just before Keith returned..."

Pidge just stared at him for a moment, her expression an easy indicator as to just how done with this boy she was.  "And it didn't once cross your mind to give me a sample so we could, oh, I don't know, find a way to make you some more?!"

Lance froze.  No.  The idea had never even crossed his mind.  And the shocked look seemed to scream it to all of them.  "I, uh........"

Laughter rang out around him.

---

Keith was polishing his blade, sitting silently in front of the dying fire.  Everyone else was asleep.  It had certainly been one HELL of a day...

"Hey."  Keith smiled at the voice, not even surprised to find that Lance was awake.

"Hey," he replied.  Keith kept his eyes on the knife, cloth running over the sharp edge carefully.  There was some rustling, then some crunching, then a slight grunt as Lance came to sit beside him.

"I'm uh...  I'm sorry, about earlier."  Keith nodded.  "About, you know, not telling anyone about my migraines."  Another nod.  "And not asking Pidge and everyone for help."  And another.  "And for scaring everyone...."  And another.

It was Lance's heavy sigh that finally got Keith to turn and look at him.  He looked...  He looked ashamed.

"Hey," Keith whispered.  He lifted one hand and placed it gently upon Lance's shoulder.  "I'm just glad you're okay."

The wet laugh that came out of Lance's lips was enough to break Keith's heart all over again.  God, he had been so afraid.  He had barely touched Lance, and he had suddenly collapsed!  If Hunk hadn't remembered about his migraines, who knows how big the fallout would have been.

"Thanks," Lance answered, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

The fire glinted off of the gold band around Lance's head, and Keith found his eyes drawn to it.  The warm metal fit so nicely against his tanned skin.  It looked good on him.  Lance followed Keith's line of sight, and reached up to the circlet.

"It doesn't look too weird, does it?" Lance asked quietly.

"No.  It looks good on you."

"So," Lance smirked, "It looks good on my pretty little head?"

Quiznak, Keith should have never said that.

[nerdywrites]

I Knew You Were A Git But This Is A New Low

Pairing: Draco x Potter!reader

Request: I would love it to start out as Draco And harry's sister to not like each other and then theyll find themselves in a slightly compromising situation and they realise they are attracted to each other and sexy stuff happens. And then they become bf and gf and draco shows it off and Harry is absolutely livid

Requested by: @harrypizza-benecookiecumbercrumb

Warnings: Language, implied smut

A/N: I don’t write smut so I hope that's not a problem. Also, why does Tumblr keep quitting on me while I’m in the middle of a story so I have to rewrite everything? The world may never know.

A/N 2: I didn’t have much time to edit this, so there’s probably a few typos in here

“Look who it is, miss lightning head” (Y/n) knew exactly who said it. Draco fucking Malfoy.

“What are you, 2? Or is that just the level of thought you put into your insults?”

“So quick to shoot back. To bad your parents weren’t that way, maybe they’d still be he-” but he didn’t finish his sentence.

Magic wasn’t allowed in the corridors of Hogwarts, but (Y/n) Potter didn’t give any fucks in that moment. She cursed and jinxed him until he looked like nothing more than a bright green slug. 

(Y/n) was over the Moon about what just happened, until she heard footsteps that immediately twisted her mood. “Goodbye life” she muttered when she saw her transfiguration teacher round the corner. She quickly stepped in front of her masterpiece “Hello Professor, you’re looking lovely today.”

“Thank you Miss Potter, I must say-” a look of horror came across her face “What is that?“

“Draco Malfoy. He said some awful things about my parents, and I wasn’t going to let it slide.” she looked around the shocked woman to see her smirking brother, a red head who was trying not to laugh, and her bushy haired friend who gave a look of disappointment. But (Y/n) could see in Hermione’s eyes that the girl was secretly enjoying seeing Draco on the ground in this state. 

McGonagall turned to the trio “You three, take Mr. Malfoy up the hospital wing.” then she turned back to (Y/n) “You on the other hand are coming with me.”

As they walked down the hall, (Y/n) listened to the woman rant about the Weasley twins “I told those boys to stop teaching you things. I knew this happen from the minute they offered to let you blow up a toilet on your first day here-”

“Why in the bloody hell are you smiling (Y/n)? You could get detention with Umbridge. I get that you’re happy Malfoy is in trouble too, but-”

“Shut up Ronald, I’m ecstatic.” she didn’t even look up from the magical map she was looking at.

“I have to agree with Ron, this means that you have to spend three months with him.” Hermione put in.

Harry sighed “I’m proud of that sis, but I’ve never seen you so happy. Why-”

“Because Harold” he muttered ‘that’s not my name’ until she glared at him “McGonagall asked what it was. She didn’t say ‘Who?‘ or ‘Why does Malfoy look like that?’ She said what!” (Y/n) was laughing so hard, tears where escaping her eyes “That means that I made him look like a genuine pile of shit!”

“Would you really risk having three months with Umbridge though?”

“Yes Ronald, if that pink bitch wants me to write with my own blood again, I’ll do it. I would pay to have ‘I must not turn Malfoy into a slug again’ scarred on my hand.”

Hermione rolled her eyes “You still have to spend three months with him.”

“Totally worth it. Plus, I can just mess with him more.” 

When Monday came her detentions started, which turned out to be with Snape. But (Y/n) was to busy laughing at the sight of Malfoy to care. His skin still had a greenish tint to it, his hair looked like a highlighter, and his arms jiggled when he walked.

She gained an extra detention for laughing to hard, which didn’t stop until Hermione threw a pillow at her hissing “Shut up (Y/n)! It’s 4:30 in the morning!”

Over the course of the few weeks, (Y/n) ran out of small, magicless pranks. Snape never failed to take their wands away, which gave her a minor setback. 

She had long conversations with Fred and George about muggle pranks, and they even agreed to order some supplies. 

With a plan already laid out, she walked into the dungeons with a strut. Malfoy groaned at the sight of her confidence, which, in his experience, was never a good thing.

The Weasley twins had potions an hour before her detention started, and they somehow distracted Snape long enough to put a tripwire in the room. The plan was for (Y/n) to tap the wire when he was in a certain area of the room. What they didn’t expect was for Malfoy to trip over it, sending neon green slime all over it’s victim. Who was, of course, Snape.

“Malfoy! Potter!” The pair had never seen more anger in a man’s eyes then in that moment. They ran out of the class room, dodging innocent people in their way, until they reached an empty wall. It remained that way until (Y/n), who was slightly out of breath, commanded a place that no one could find them. Which the Room of Requirement was happy to offer.

Then Draco, who laughed slightly as he was joking, muttered “It’s not like we can come out until tomorrow anyway.”

But the door had already shut, and there was no way to reverse it. 

(Y/n) shook the knob frantically “God fucking dammit! You utter dipshit! It took you seriously! We are trapped in here, while Snape has our fucking wands. You fucking loser!” she ranted on and on as Draco watched her with a small smile. He realized what he was doing and changed his grin to a smirk.

She noticed his look quickly “Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? I will make you a slug again you big fucking git”

He put his hands up “I can think of a few ways to pass time” 

She looked at him curiously “As in what”

“We could count how many times you can say ‘fuck’ in one sentence”

She glared at him “What else?”

He smirked again as a bed appeared in the room. Steam could have come out her ears as she glared at him “You must be mistaken if you think for one fucking minute that I’m going to fuck you, you fucking pervert.”

“Well, that's a new record so far. Three times, congratulations.”

They spent the first hour ignoring each other, until both got bored and played games such as 20 questions and never have I ever. By 10 pm, both teens actually found themselves laughing and enjoying their time together. 

“Alright Potter, never have I ever messed up a potion on purpose.”

She put a down another finger “You’re so lame Malfoy. I messed mine and Ron’s potion up because he was being annoying, and because I could make it explode in Snape’s face by adding the last ingredient.”

He laughed “Is that what happened? I thought you genuinely screwed it up“ 

“Nope, I just added the worm heart right when he leaned over our cauldron.”

She didn’t notice that they had scooted together over the course of the game until now. His breath was hot on her face as his eyes flickered to her lips. When her’s did the same, he took the chance and kissed her slowly, until it got more and more passionate. 

“So, tell me” she said as they broke apart “does that earlier option still stand?”

When (Y/n) returned to the dormitories the next day, she used the excuse that she was hiding from Snape when she fell asleep, which they believed. She wasn’t ready to tell them that her and Malfoy were officially dating, scared of how they could react considering she was ready to curse his head off only 9 hours previously. 

But Malfoy didn’t know this. He was perfectly happy with the relationship, and planned to show her off as much as possible. 

As the four walked to lunch, (Y/n) was to busy listening to Hermione talk about a newly discovered jinx to notice Malfoy walking up to them. He gave her a quick kiss “Are we still on for tonight?”

(Y/n) nodded before nervously looking at her friends. Ron had the most confused look on his face that (Y/n) had ever seen. Hermione was downright shocked. But Harry, Harry was pissed. His face was red with anger as he glared daggers at Malfoy. 

“It was a long night” (Y/n) said in a small explanation. 

But Harry was still giving Draco the death glare. As if one push could send him over a cliff, which is exactly what happened when Malfoy winked and said “long but fantastic if you know what I mean.”

(Y/n) slapped his arm as Ron and Hermione held a struggling Harry back from beating him to the pulp. 

“You better fucking run, ferret. I knew you were a git but this is a new low.“

“Just like your sister with that language Potter. I definitely heard a lot on that last night.” 

This time she slapped him upside the head, but the prankster side of her had to make just a little worse. “Now behave Draco, or you won’t get any of that again tonight”

He laughed “Ok baby” and kissed her one more time before running off as (Y/n) now had to join in keeping her brother back.

[romcomathon2016]

A Christmas Prince (USA, 2017)

And now, a special bonus edition, not for any actual occasion, but just because we freaking felt like it. God bless you, Netflix, for this glorious season when all the worst Hallmark movies ever made arise out of the depths for easy streaming upon demand. Happy holidays, Romcomathon readership! (We will also be watching an equally terrible non-Netflix movie, it looks like, on actual Christmas. Prepare yourselves.)

Predictions: Alex, having read the description, knew that it was about a reporter and a prince, perhaps falling in love through a house of lies. Kat, not having read the description, predicted that Christmas was a place as well as a time, and perhaps the Prince of Christmas -- A CHRISTMAS PRINCE, IF YOU WILL -- was looking for a bride. At Christmastime. Perhaps the Kingdom of Christmas only merges with the regular world at Christmastime!!!! Who can say.

Plot: Uh… Kat was joking, but may not have been entirely mistaken. Whereas she was picturing some sort of seasonal magical fairy kingdom, Aldovia is instead a supposedly real country that crowns its monarchs at the Christmas Eve Ball???? But let's back up a bit and explain.

Rose McIver is a "junior editor," aka peon?? at a fashion magazine in "New York" (a whole variety of skylines were used here, though...huh), who inexplicably gets sent to a foreign country to cover the possible abdication of a playboy prince, Ben Lamb. Obviously he turns out to not really be a playboy; she assumes a fake identity by accident (is mistaken for the princess's soon-to-arrive new American tutor); and she immediately finds her way into both his good graces and those of his wayward, overprotected little sister -- who, by the way, has spina bifida AND is super sad about their father's death a year ago. There was literally not a heartstring that this movie did not attempt to tug, y’all; we are shocked that there wasn't a baby animal of some kind wearing a ribbon around its neck at a pivotal moment.

Anyway, Prince Ben Lamb just doesn't know if he wants to be king, guys. Can he handle it? Can he handle it?? No, kind of seems like he can't, tbh, but since his scheming cousin, next in line, seems like a truly terrible person, he should probably try. But wait! Plot twist! Rose McIver stumbles across an incredibly poorly-hidden secret compartment in the king's hunting lodge -- after having been rescued by Prince Ben Lamb from a wolf in the snowy woods, mind you (...yes) -- and discovers SECRET ADOPTION PAPERS. PRINCE BEN LAMB IS ADOPTED, AND NOBODY KNEW!!!! Well, except his parents, presumably.

Here we start a new paragraph specifically to ask HOW. HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT THE ROYAL FAMILY SOMEHOW ADOPTED A CHILD AND KEPT IT SECRET FROM EVERYONE. EVERYONE.

Naturally, Scheming Cousin and his lady friend (actually Prince Ben Lamb's former lady friend, but let's not get into it) discover this as well, because Rose McIver is the worst undercover reporter in the world, and they decide to keep this information under their fancy evil hats until the Right Moment. When is the Right Moment, you ask? Obviously, at the Christmas Eve Ball/coronation. Yes, two for the price of one. The Aldovian monarchy is v. practical and/or thrifty that way! They also have the Prime Minister do the ceremony (perhaps not wanting to spring for a priest), and he (perhaps having never before seen a coronation?!) runs the whole thing like a wedding. Does anyone object to the prince's crowning, he asks, or forever hold your peace?? Guess who doesn't hold their peace, guys -- lol, it's Scheming Cousin. THE PRINCE IS ADOPTED!!!!!!!!

Man, what unfortunate timing, now that Prince Ben Lamb has finally gotten his act together and agreed to be king. Also unfortunate: the scheming duo reveals the truth about Rose McIver's identity. WHAT IS EVEN LEFT FOR PRINCE BEN LAMB TO BELIEVE IN???? He doesn't know who Rose McIver is! HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO HE IS EITHER. Also, the Prime Minister clearly has no mind of his own, and the Queen somehow has no power???? (We suppose that makes sense, though, since this nation is apparently stuck in like the 1100s or something, because girls still can't inherit and the line skips right over Prince Ben Lamb’s sister??) Anyway, they're all just like, welp, it's Christmas Eve, so we couldn't possibly wait a day to reasonably discuss our nation’s future, and instead we absolutely must crown Scheming Cousin immediately. All is lost.

Rose McIver, meanwhile, is at the airport headed home, all dejected and stuff, when she has a sudden epiphany about the secret poem the prince showed her in the hunting lodge. (SO MUCH SECRET STUFF IN THIS HUNTING LODGE, YOU GUYS. WHAT WAS EVEN GOING ON WITH THE KING. WHY DID HE SHARE NOTHING WITH HIS QUEEN OR HIS COUNCIL????) She rushes back to the castle and breaks open the homemade acorn Christmas ornament that the dead king left for the queen (...yeah), and lo and behold, a secret decree naming his adopted son worthy to be king. The king even took care to mention that it wasn't about blood or anything, but rather about Prince Ben Lamb's good character, which incidentally, Prince Ben Lamb was worried about. HOW PRESCIENT OF HIM. (Though not as prescient as if he had done the normal thing and publicized this before his death and avoided this whole debacle. :|)

Rose McIver bursts into the SECOND coronation; the Prime Minister again has no trouble accepting this latest sudden, poorly-verified turn of events; and Prince Ben Lamb gets properly crowned. Rose McIver goes back home to “New York” and writes a very schmaltzy story about how great he is. Her editor, surprisingly, does not want to publish this CRAZY STORY that she paid for Rose McIver to get, so Rose McIver quits and starts a weirdly successful blog instead. Then, on New Year's Eve, King Ben Lamb turns up on the doorstep of her father's diner and proposes to her. YUP, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY, READER. THE KING OF A NATION PROPOSES TO A WOMAN HE KNEW FOR ONE WEEK UNDER AN ASSUMED IDENTITY. THE END.

Best Scene: It is impossible to choose, perhaps because there was not a single scene in this glorious Christmas masterpiece that did not seem like it had been ripped from another film and spliced into this one in iMovie. The number of lines that we predicted out loud before they were said on screen was, shall we say, astonishing, but then again, not astonishing at all.

Worst Scene: All of the best scenes were the worst scenes, and all of the worst scenes were the best scenes.

Best Line: "You haven't thought about this. I mean, we barely know each other." -- Rose McIver, saying what we are all thinking. I mean, who would marry this royal idiot?? HE HAS BAD JUDGMENT AND WILL SOON BE DEPOSED, AND THEN WHERE WILL YOU BE?? Points for having good sense for once, Rose McIver. Points lost for capitulating moments later.

Worst Line: "A palace is a lonely place for a king without a queen." -- King Ben Lamb, during his proposal speech, all of which was awful, just to be clear. Although we did enjoy how his answer to pretty much all her objections was, money can solve everything! I mean. He's not entirely wrong. The royal family is probably very rich from all the money they've saved on coronations.

Highlights of the Watching Experience: Ummmm, reading the article that Entertainment Weekly wrote about it?? This article, a journalistic tour de force of the sort Rose McIver could never compose, addresses all of the concerns that we could not fit in this blog post. It is accurate and hilarious. Read it here.

Also, this whole watching experience was a highlight of our year. Literally the tropiest film we've ever watched. Cannot believe how many different clichés they managed to cram into one movie.

How Many POC in the Film: Like...2-4? One of her two friends was black (the other was a gay man, of course), a jerk reporter at the magazine was also black, and there may or may not have been an Asian person or two sprinkled in in Aldovia, with hardly any lines. Not awesome, for 2017.

Alternate Scenes: So, how did Rose McIver end up needing to be rescued from a wolf, you ask? Well, it's because she stole a horse from the stables to stalk Prince Ben Lamb, and then it threw her and left her in the snow, à la Beauty and the Beast. Only this low-budget cinematic wonder could only afford one wolf, evidently. Excitingly, though, in the moment before this wolf came on screen, we were wondering if it was going to be a werewolf, and if this movie was REALLY going to take a turn. Truthfully, readers, we kind of wish that had happened. We would watch that alternate film. Possible titles -- iWerewolf? A Christmas Wolf?

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: BETTER. Now, we know we’ve suggested that no film could be better than this one, but this badly-photoshopped family holiday card is clearly the poster for a movie about the Prince of Hell, who rises out of his pentacle in a tower of flame to claim as his bride Rose McIver, who happens to love Christmas. Whereas of course the Prince of Hell hates Christmas, because it's Jesus’s birthday, and he is the Prince of Hell (duh). Hijinks ensue; eventually they overcome their differences, and maybe the Prince of Hell abdicates his hellish throne in order to live on Earth with Rose McIver. The final scene is, of course, them in their charming living room, enjoying Christmas. The Prince jokingly puts a devil-themed ornament on the Christmas tree (yes, they make those; we double-checked). "Oh, you!" says Rose McIver. They giggle together. Pan out into the snow.

Score: 4 out of 10 pasted-together-out-of-a-random-Hallmark-plot-generator smooches. Soooooo bad, you guys. Probably zero actual-movie smooches. But 10 out of 10 smooches in our still-laughing hearts!

Ranking: 72, out of the 109 movies we’ve seen so far. Sadly, we would rather rewatch this than a shocking number of other things. IT WASN'T GOOD, JUST TO BE CLEAR. NOT GOOD AT ALL. Yet...what a grand old time we had. This is the most perfect terrible movie we have ever watched or could ever imagine watching.

[rockhoochie]

No Apologies

(*Edit, previously titled “He Brings Me Sugar”)

Pairing: Dean/OFC

Warnings: Adult Content, Smut, Slow Burn, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Angst, Prescription Drug Abuse, Drinking, Knife play (very brief), Minor OC (sibling) Death, Language, Oral Sex (M/F receiving).

Summary: After losing her sister Anna to a demon, the Winchesters have taken Lexi under their wing. She studies and trains with them, tense friction quickly growing between her and Dean. When Sam and Castiel leave to take care of the demon that killed Anna without her, the levee of tension amidst Lexi and Dean breaks, flowing into something neither of them expected.

A/N: This is an edit of a fic I’ve posted previously. I meant to write a brief smutty one-shot and ended up developing the OFC a bit. Since the word count is 10K+, I decided to chapter it out. There may still be some errors, so please forgive me as I haven’t had this beta’d yet. Thank you for reading and as always, if you’d like to be tagged just send an ask!

**My work is not to be copied, altered, posted on other sites or otherwise used without my express written permission**

 Chapter 3

I had been living with Sam and Dean for about six months no, ever since my life had been turned completely and insanely upside down. Ever since my house had been burned down by a demon. Ever since that same demon had possessed my sister Anna and made her snap her own neck…

It had just been Anna and me. Our parents were gone, killed in a car accident almost two years ago. Anna had resolved to stay home with me after our parents’ funeral. They had left the house to us in their will – rather than try to deal with selling it, we moved in. Although sometimes painful, living in our childhood home again, surrounded by our parents’ possessions and essence was comforting in its own bittersweet way.

Sam had been only halfway through the exorcism when Anna was killed. Dean had been holding me from behind as I simply cried and screamed for my sister. I watched, helpless and confused and terrified as the demon glared me with eyes black as obsidian. It cackled with Anna’s voice, and unceremoniously twisted her head almost the whole way around. The demon left her then, in a thick black vine of smoke that reeked of sulfur, and making the most wretched squealing sound I had ever heard. Dean’s grip loosened on me as her body hit the floor. I had run over to Anna and held her, stroking her hair as my tears fell into her open, dead eyes, not caring that the flames licking the walls were gaining more and more strength. Sam had yelled repeatedly at Dean to get me out; Dean had to coax and scream and pry me away from my little sister. He had dragged me out of the burning house – literally kicking and screaming – as I watched Sam pour a copious amount of rock salt over Anna’s corpse.

Once Dean had gotten us a safe distance away and Sam had run out of the burning house, everything I had left in me vanished as I collapsed on the street. The brothers stayed with me the entire time, through the police and fireman interrogations, through the paramedic examination. The EMT’s kept telling me how lucky I was. I kept silently telling them to go fuck themselves.

Once the fire was out and Anna’s body had been wheeled away, all I could do was tremble, and repeatedly ask Sam and Dean what hell happened, what’s going on, what was that thing. They tried their best to calm me and explain. My head swam along with my tears as they told me that monsters were real, that they were hunters – the kind of hunters that kill the things that everyone else dismissed as fairy tales. They told me were demons real, angels were too, but God had left the building…and vampires and werewolves and even dragons absolutely existed outside of nightmares. At first, I thought they were insane, or that everything that had happened had caused me to go off the deep end.

They took me to their car, a black ’67 Impala, and showed me the contents of the trunk. Guns, knives, bullets, a goddamn machete. Dean reached for and opened a leather-bound journal, and flipping the pages slowly as I peered at them. They were full of hand drawn pictures of awful creatures, of handwritten information about each one – what is was, where it came from, and how to kill it.

Despite the obvious proof, I maintained the position that either I was losing my mind or they were certifiable lunatics.

Deep down I knew it was all true - nothing else could explain it. The weight of accepting that truth crushed anything that remained of my heart that night.

That demon had destroyed the only home and family had left. The only thing I was able to walk away with were the clothes on my back and the necklace I wore – a heart-shaped silver pendant with a single diamond embedded near the top, a single silver angel wing decorating the right side, and the words “Big Sister” engraved in simple print. Anna had one that matched – the only difference was the angel wing on the left side, and the engraved phrase “Little Sister”. We had found them in our mother’s closet, already wrapped in Christmas paper, tucked away amongst other gifts and boxes. Mom had always called us her angels on earth.

One of the EMTs had slipped Anna’s necklace into my hand. I slid the pendant off the chain, and joined it with my own. I silently promised my sister retribution. Whatever it took, wherever I had to go, I was going to destroy the thing that murdered her or die trying.

When Sam asked me if I had someone to call or someone I could stay with, I had shaken my head ‘no’. I had some friends out of state I could’ve called, but I couldn’t even bring myself to consider leaving. I needed answers about what had happened to Anna, and I was hellbent on revenge. I had told them I’d get a hotel for now, but Sam said he didn’t feel comfortable just leaving me alone. That demon was still out there somewhere, and chances were it was going to come after me.

That night they brought me to the bunker.

I sat at the library table in silence, watching Dean unpack his gear while Sam got a room ready for me.

“Hey,” Dean had said, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“Not hungry,” I mumbled.

“Not what I asked you.”

“I don’t know, sometime yesterday…”

Dean walked into the kitchen, leaving me to stare at the strange arsenal he had laid out in front of me - a sawed-off shotgun, several knives, bloody clothes and flasks – either full of holy water or whiskey.

He returned with a small plate and a fork, setting a piece of cherry pie in front of me.

“I’d rather have a drink,” I mumbled.

“Pie first.”

I cut a small piece, forcing myself to take one small bite after another until I finished it, trying to at least find some comfort in its sweetness. I licked the last of the thick filling off of my fork, and ran my finger along the sides of my lips to clean off any trace that may have remained.

When I looked up, I found Dean staring at me, his lips parted, his green eyes fixed on me.

“What is it?” I asked. “Is there some on my face?”

He blinked with a slight shake of his head and leaned back in his chair.

“No,” he said. “I just…I’m sorry for everything you went through tonight. I know how it is to lose family, and…”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Here,” he said, handing me a silver flask. “You can have that drink now”.

***

I had stayed in my room for three days after I got there, only leaving to use the bathroom. For the most part, Sam and Dean gave me my space. Sam would knock twice a day, come in and bring me food. Sometimes we would make small talk. Sometimes we would just sit there in silence, until he would put a movie on for me. He’d hold me while I cried, listen calmly when I screamed.

Dean had been present, but had kept himself fairly distant. On the morning of my third day at the bunker, I woke to find a pint of Jack Daniels and slice of cherry pie on my night stand. I knew that was from him. As great as Sam was about being attentive to my emotions, Dean knew what I didn’t know I really needed – sugar and booze. I washed down the pie with the whiskey, and spent the rest of the day getting blissfully drunk while watching old western movies.

On the fourth day, I finally came out of my room with a staggering hangover. That was the day I met Castiel, and experienced the glorious magic that was angelic healing. Cas had simply touched two fingers to my forehead, erasing the lingering physical pain I had from the night Anna died, healing the cuts and bruises covering my body. Even my hangover was gone. It was also the day I asked Sam and Dean to teach me everything they knew.

Sam read through lore and research with me, quizzing me on what the most common creatures were and how to kill them. He showed me the best places to look for the rare, odd things, and told me to who to call if I got stuck on something. I studied symbols, warding, summoning spells and credit card fraud. Sam was patient and warmhearted while he taught me, leading me to correct my own wrong answers and guiding me step-by-step as I practiced sketching Devil’s Traps. Sam quickly became like a big brother to me – that was the reason I picked him to take me to get the anti-possession tattoo on the back of my neck.

Dean led me in the more hands-on aspects of hunting. He taught me how to handle the guns, how to clean them, how to put them back together. He showed me the different bullets, the rock salt shells and the witch killers. He gave me a hunting knife, a lock-pick kit, and finally my own Glock.

We also spent time sparring, practicing hand to hand fighting. He never held back with me, saying that if I was going to have his or his little brother’s six, I’d better damn well know how to fight.

Dean was tough on me, critical, demanding perfection from everything he was trying to teach me. It only took about two weeks before started grating on each other. The more comfortable I got around him, the more he learned that not only could I take it, but I could dish it right back to him. That seemed to piss him off, and I found myself secretly enjoying it.

One particular day in the shooting range we really had it out. I was holding my Glock, trying to aim at the target and he would just not shut up. My stance was wrong, I wasn’t holding the gun the right way, what did I think this was, the goddamn movies? I finally cracked that day, screaming at him to get the fuck out of my face and back the hell off. I had stormed off, hiding myself in an archive room for the next several hours. When I finally returned to my room, there was a pint of Jack Daniels and a slice of pie sitting on my nightstand. By that time, I had learned how high pie was on Dean’s list of priorities. So, with a smile, I took the gesture as an apology and forgave him.

After a couple of months, I went out on some simple hunts with them – a spirit here, a poltergeist there. Sam was proud of me. Dean was impressed. I wanted to do more. Despite my insistence and protestations, they left me behind on the more difficult hunts - vampire nests, werewolf packs, things that hunted in twos, or anything demon-related.

Whenever they left me behind, I resigned myself to trying to track down the demon that killed Anna. I looked for patterns, strange sightings, any hint that the thing was still around. Sam and Dean tortured any demon they came across to get information before destroying or exoring them. Not one of them knew anything, or if they did, they weren’t talking. Dean had even summoned Crowley to interrogate him. After Crowley spent an eternity talking in circles and flirting with me, he insisted he knew nothing about my sister, or which one of his minions may have killed her. He did however, offer to make finding it out for me his top priority in exchange for my soul. Dean had cursed at him for that, charging at him with Ruby’s knife. Crowley vanished with a snap of his fingers before Dean could even get close to him.

I kept hunting, kept researching, kept hoping. I made it extremely clear to Sam and Dean that I was going to be the one to destroy that demon once it dared to show up again. They never protested, but never seemed too thrilled with the idea either.

It was comforting knowing I had people who had my back – hell, it was comforting to know that an actual angel had my back. Any time they left and hunted without me it filled me with dread. The Winchesters were the best at what they did, but if anything ever happened to them I’d be lost. I couldn’t imagine life without Sam, the brother I never had. I couldn’t even imagine life without Dean…the Dean I never had.

[lokifiction]

Caught in the Crossfire

The day the Battle of New York occurred was a fateful one, especially for Camryn, who was caught in the crossfire of a Chitauri weapon and Loki’s Tesseract-powered scepter, the blast sending her into a comatose state.

When Thor returns to Midgard to assist with rescue efforts, he finds her, unconscious and close to death, though emitting a strong magical trace. Puzzled by it, the prince brings her to Asgard for medical care- and observation.

Over time, the mystery of what salvation or destruction she will cause because of her magical abnormality becomes harder and harder to solve. As she begins to lose control of herself, she must seek help from the only person that can teach her how to harness her newfound power and the one who happens to hate her the most.

Loki.

Category: Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Notes: Hi, guys! I know I always apologize for late updates, but I felt particularly bad about this one. I planned to try to write a lot in my last month of summer, but I’m in the process of uploading the fics from this page onto ao3 (more info about that later), so that already caused some delays. Then rehearsals and my conditioning program for the year started, pushing my writing back even further. And then, when I finally finished the chapter, a bunch of busywork stuff came up, and I never had time to get it edited. Every night I couldn’t get this up I felt absolutely awful, and I’m so sorry! I hope this proves worth the wait for you guys!

Warnings: Some language and very mild mentions of sexual content in this one. Enjoy!

Masterlist

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Chapter Fifteen

           Despite our heartfelt declarations and our supposed new relationship, hardly anything changed in Loki’s and my routine, and the only thing altered in our behavior towards each other was the addition of painful awkwardness. Loki had no more outbursts of hatred towards me and I stopped fearing they would happen, but we still weren’t in sync. We would share luncheon, served by Gerd and Inge (Toril had been mysteriously absent ever since the kiss), have a training session, then eat dinner together before retiring to our respective chambers. The only thing that would mark us out as being in a relationship were the hesitant touches and pecks we would share upon greeting and goodbyes. In fact, we had never been together anywhere outside of my chambers, and I hadn’t even seen his.

            Admittedly, the removal of prevalent fear in our dynamic helped me make excellent progress in my training, and I soon reached the point where I hardly ever had difficulties controlling my power. Loki, glowing with pride, had said that as far as my physical prowess, the containment training was nearly finished, and soon we would be able to move on to actually applying my abilities. The enormous hug he gave me the day I had no reaction to the most intense triggers he could summon was the most natural moment between us since the kiss, while every other gesture of affection, while genuine, seemed forced. I began to reflect on how little time we had actually known each other and began to wonder if we rushed into things too soon.

           I expressed as much to the girls as I was eating breakfast a week and a half after Loki and I kissed and had our reckoning, responding to Gerd’s question of why I seemed so jittery.

           “Well, he didn’t give you much of a choice,” Brenna commented, biting into a fig. I didn’t require check-ups after my lessons anymore, and wouldn’t again until we got to the stamina portion of my training, so she often came to take breakfast with me to keep in touch. “He took you and kissed you. Hard, from the way I hear it. You couldn’t just go back to normal after that. He threw any notion of a properly developing relationship out the window.”

           “I know, but we had such chemistry before,” I argued. “While it’s not completely gone, it’s considerably diminished. We’re not passionate now, yet we were when we still hated each other. Now we’re like two preteens in their first relationship.”

           “It s a completely new dynamic, and the two of you are just figuring it out.” Gerd topped off my tea, placing a comforting pat on my back before pouring herself a cup and settling into the chair next to Brenna. “Give it time.”

           “I just fear…” I broke off, staring at my hands. “I’ve just been thinking of how little we really know each other. I can count our interactions before the kiss on my fingers. I worry that our attraction for each other was just us reacting to extreme stressors and new situations, and that it’s not really there. I wish we would have had time to riddle that out before becoming entirely romantically involved.”

           “I agree with Gerd,” Inge put in, reclining in her seat. “Give it time. The two of you made a mistake by rushing into it, so just don’t let it happen again. Don’t force anything, and let it happen naturally. If it’s meant to be, it will all work itself out.”

           I nodded as I reached for my fork to finally devour the plate of delicious food that had made me queasy not a minute before, the churning in my stomach quelled a bit by their advice and reassurance. Around a bite of warm, spiced fig, I looked around at the women seated before me, my heart swelling with thanks that I was able to come across such a wonderful support group. Though, as I studied Gerd and Inge, I realized just how long it had been since I saw their third member.

           “Where has Toril been the past week?” I asked, attempting to sound casual. “I haven’t seen her since the night Loki and I kissed.”

           “She fell ill the next day, and has been in bed ever since,” Inge replied, blowing on her cup of hot cider.

           I cocked an eyebrow. “Suspicious timing.”

           “I thought so, too, until she didn’t get any better. She’s been locked in her room this entire time, and refuses to let anyone see her. Today she departed for a leave of absence to her mother’s house in the countryside until she recovers.”

           Brenna furrowed her brow. “If she’s so ill, why did she never come to the healers? Usually Eir has to give her permission for a member of staff to take a sick leave. We never even knew Toril was afflicted with anything.”

           Inge shrugged. “I’m just getting this all from Edill.”

           Brenna scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Edill is Toril’s lackey. I wouldn’t trust a word she says.”

           “I don’t entirely, but I did see Toril leaving the palace today.” Inge looked pointedly at me. “If she’s not sick, she’s up to something. I would be on your guard, Camryn. Part of the reason why Loki never kept his lovers for long was because Toril always got involved if they were around any longer than two weeks. She can be vicious.”

           I gulped, my food becoming unappetizing yet again. I had refrained from asking Loki about Toril thus far, but Inge’s information made me realize that I had to at the earliest opportunity. I needed to find out what was really going on, and why Toril felt the need to sabotage our first outing and hurt all of Loki’s past lovers, for my own safety. Surely he’d understand my fear and tell me for that reason.

           Though, an awful voice in my head crooned, if he doesn’t, it could ruin everything.

 ***

           “Good afternoon, Camryn.”

           “Good afternoon to you, Loki.” I stepped out of the doorframe to make room for him. “Come on in.”

           Loki entered the room with a smile and a tender brush on my upper arm. “How are you today?”

           “I’m good. And yourself?” I grit my teeth at how congenial we were being. We were like strangers on the street. No heat burned between us any longer, whether that heat be hatred or love.

           “I’m well. I’m eager to start your training today. It’s going to be an entirely new unit, so I’m anxious to see how it goes.”

           “Well, come and sit down for lunch so we can get started all the sooner.” I went to direct him to his chair, but at the same time he made to pull mine out for me, so we ended up gently colliding en route. With pressed giggles, we went to our own respective chairs and sat with our gazes trained on our plates.

           “I have somewhat exciting news,” Loki eventually announced, draping his napkin across his lap. “I thought that after our lesson, we might finally have our palace tour. I’ve made sure that there will be no interruptions this time.”

           My stomach knotted with nerves, but I knew I couldn’t pass up such a perfect opportunity.

           “So you heard about Toril’s illness, then? And that she left the palace?”

           “I heard about her leaving, though I doubt it’s from illness.” He snorted, raising his wine glass to his lips. “It’s probably best that she’s away for a while. There will likely be hell to pay when she returns, and this way we’ll have more time to prepare ourselves.”

           My breath hitched in my throat and I drew my trembling hands into tight fists. “Loki, I- can you...I was wondering…” I broke off with a frustrated sigh before blurting, “What’s your relationship with Toril?”

           “That…” He set his goblet down with an arduous movement that made me want to scream. “Is a long story. I suppose I should start from the beginning.

           “I was about four hundred and sixty-five years old when she came to the palace. By that point, I already had a reputation of being a womanizer, but I had yet to do the deed. Until she came along, that is.”

           Oh no, I inwardly moaned. Toril took his virginity, didn’t she?

           “Because of her low status, she was assigned to be a scullery maid upon her arrival. Usually, they work out of sight in the nobility, but in my youth I was always thinking of creative ways to evade my family and tutors, so I often crossed paths with them, anyway. I noticed her out of the corner of my eye a few times, and after a week or so I realized she was watching me.

           “One evening before bed, I was informed that the maid that usually tended to my fires in the middle of the night had sprained her ankle, and a substitute would be provided until she healed. I suspect that Toril injured my usual nighttime maid herself, and convinced the head of housekeeping to allow her to fill in.

           “I often stayed up until the early hours of the morning or didn’t sleep at all, and the idea of an unfamiliar person in my room whilst I was sleeping made me uneasy, so that night I sat in my armchair, tearing up a mystery novel my mother had gifted me that morning. I was there when Toril walked through the front door, and all she did was say ‘Good evening, Your Highness,” before abandoning her tools, coming over to straddle me, and kissing me deeply.

           “Now, Toril was a couple hundred years older than me, and her mother was a whore. They don’t like having children living in brothels, so I suspect she was put to work for her room the moment she was able. Though, Toril is the twisted type of person that actually enjoys that sort of work, and was very talented at what she did. All that experience drew me in, and the pleasure made me her prisoner. I remember her whispering to me, right after she strippped me bare, ‘Before I do this, promise me that you’ll put in a good word to your mother about me.’ I was so aroused at that point that I would’ve agreed to anything, so of course I said yes.

           “We were together that night and many others. I helped her rise through the ranks to become Mother’s handmaid, and she taught me everything I know. However, I was not one to be tied down at the time, and we never established any sort of relationship outside of sex, so after a few weeks I began pursuing other girls again. She didn’t like it, but tolerated the one-night-stands. However, if it went on for any longer than that, she became testy.

           “She learned that when I was truly interested in a girl, I would pursue them for longer. I wouldn’t jump right in and take them to bed, but I would romance them for a week or so, and often keep them around for about a moon. She picked up on this behavior, and she started doing things about it.

           “First, the girls would mysteriously fall ill or become injured before I could take them to bed a second time. Then it would happen before I could do it in the first place. I picked up on the act when girls started handing in their immediate resignations only a couple of days after I started pursuing them. I realized that, while I had no feelings for Toril other than lust, she had formed her own twisted kind of love for me. It was out of control.

          “Due to Toril’s eventual high status as my Mother’s handmaiden, we kept our ‘relationship’ a secret, so when she convinced me to stop pursuing other girls and Mother noticed that the stream of chambermaids and healers-in-training stumbling from my rooms in the morning had ended, it was decided that I was to have a betrothed- a Vana named Sigyn. Toril grew cold and refused to see me during the courting stage, but when Sigyn and her family came to stay in the palace as guests, they were only there three days before one night I was roused by Sigyn’s hysterical screams. I rushed to her chambers to see what was the matter, and through sobs she begged me not to come near her. Her party left before dawn the next morning, and they haven’t set foot on Asgard since. That night, however, Toril came to my chambers, and made me hers again.

           “Ever since, I’ve never courted anyone else, yet Toril has always just been the one I fucked. It’s quite sad, really, because when I think about it, I realize that I’ve lived a life devoid of loving someone outside of my own family. I came to her when I was upset, angry, frustrated, confused, happy, or just simply wanting it. There have never been any feelings from my side of it,  she was simply…”

           “She was your own hand, in a way,” I giggled, hoping the joke would distract me from my fear that he was lying about not really having feelings for her. The history the two had, even if it was just sex, was something I couldn’t ever hope to compete with.

           Loki chuckled. “That’s a particularly vulgar way to put it, but our relationship was vulgar, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

           I bit my lip hard, screwing my eyes shut and bunching the fabric of the gown in my fists. “And…have you been with her since we...since you started training me?”

           Loki reached across the table, running his fingers down my arm and around my elbow until I surrendered my hand to him, and he held it tightly.

           “I haven’t been with her in at least three years, though she’s made her advances. I’ve tenaciously refused every one, which I must admit, makes her come back with more vigor. But I made my decision long ago. Whatever strange relationship we had is over,” he assured. “You have nothing to worry about as far as infidelity through her. When she comes back to the palace, though, there will be backlash, but we’ll be ready for it, and I’ll make certain that no harm comes to you.” He squeezed my palm reassuringly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile. I could only reply with a shaking breath, the edges of my lips twitching upward as I averted my eyes to the table. Loki’s brow furrowed in thought, and as he rubbed his thumb along the top of my hand, I realized that I was too distressed to realize that we were finally having a tender moment with no awkwardness.

           “I’ll tell you what,” he proposed. “Since you’ve been out of your cell, you haven’t had a day off from your training. You’ve made such good progress, so let’s not do the session today. What do you say we go straight out and have our tour, hm?”

           I raised my head and mustered a small, genuine smile, giving a single nod.

           So Loki and I set off, arm-in-arm and sharing light conversation, mostly composed of him telling stories, both personal and historical, about nearly every nook and cranny of the palace. It made me realize just how long he had lived, that he had so much to say and so many tidbits about a mind-bogglingly enormous building. He took me into ballrooms and galleries and dining rooms and throne rooms (apparently the one I had been in was used only for court), and by the time we reached the top floor of hundreds, the shadows were growing long and my stomach rumbled audibly. Loki chuckled at the sound.

           “Perhaps we should stop for the day, and go get you something to eat.”

           I looked up at him with an incredulous expression, inwardly noting that the tour had helped relieve even more of the discomfort between us.

           “‘For the day’?” I echoed. “What do you mean by that?”

           “Well, the tour is far from over,” Loki said theatrically. “I’ve merely shown you how to find your way around! There’s still so many rooms to take you into, and the secret passageways, and you haven’t even seen the grounds, except for the enclosed courtyards! And not to mention that once we’ve exhausted the palace, I have to show you the city, and then all the rest of Asgard.”

           I laughed, patting his bicep. “Well, I suppose we have our date night activity set for the next, what, ten years?”

           I waited for his joking reply, but he merely went stiff, eyes trained on something ahead of us. I followed his gaze to the end of the lengthy hall and noticed a relatively young man with chestnut waves, sporting luxurious goldspun robes, walking our direction. He didn’t notice us, however, for he was deep in conversation with an older man dressed in the dark colors of a personal servant.

           “Damn,” Loki muttered. “I forgot that I told everyone you were a visiting diplomat from Alfheim.”

           “What does that mean?” I whispered, sensing that this was a situation where I should keep my voice down.

           Loki broke our contact and stood in front of me, shielding me from view, scanning my face before reaching out and freeing the hair that I had absentmindedly tucked behind my ears at some point, rearranging and patting it down so that it thoroughly covered them.

           “You may look elvish in the face, but your ears are a dead giveaway. I meant to give them a glamour, but I never quite got around to it,” he explained. “Keep them hidden.”

           “Oh. Alright.” Stiff in my frazzled state, I merely watched as Loki manipulated me like a puppet into our previous position, completing it just as the robed man sent his servant away and focused his attention on us.

           “Good evening, Your Majesty. My lady,” he greeted, coming to a halt before us with a pompous, if not slightly smug, expression. His build was short and stocky, but he was still conventionally handsome, with sun-browned skin contrasting his light blue eyes.

           “Councilman Olaf.” Loki tipped his chin curtly. “Lady Camryn, may I present Olaf Umunson, a member of the High Council. Councilman Olaf, I introduce-”

           “The elven diplomat everyone’s speaking of,” Olaf interrupted, an unsettling gleam in his yes. “Camryn, you said your name was? How odd. That’s not an elvish name, rather, it sounds quite... Midgardian.”

           My heart leapt to my throat, and though Loki betrayed nothing in his expression or stance, a hard squeeze on my hand relayed his fear. Councilman Olaf knew something, but I sensed that Loki was silently urging me to find out the extent of his knowledge before revealing anything.

           “My parents simply wanted something different,” I improvised. “They were quite creative, and simply made it up.”

           “Hm.” Olaf pressed his lips together, thinly suppressing a smirk. “Alfheim certainly is a beautiful realm. What region are you from?”

           Before I could panic, a familiar voice echoed in my head, one I recognized as the Tesseract feeding me information.

           The elves that have dark hair and eyes like you usually come from the forests in the south, it whispered.

           “The south,” I piped up, feeling Loki ever-so-slightly relax next to me. “Near the forests.”

           “The most beautiful part of Alfheim, in my opinion.” Olaf rocked back and forth on his heels. “Forgive me, but I’m quite out of the loop of the current events of Alfheim. Who’s the king right now?”

           As the Tesseract fed me the answer, it became clear just how extensively Olaf was testing me. I raised my chin defiantly, puffing my chest up proudly.

           “Actually, there’s a queen on the throne right now.” It was my turn to smirk. “Queen Euraviel.”

           “Your Midgardian is educated quite well, my king,” Olaf chuckled darkly, and my smile vanished. “Did you school her up on Alfheim, or was that the Tesseract talking?”

           “Pardon?” I choked out.

           Olaf reached out and pushed my hair away from my ears. “Those aren’t the ears of a light elf. This little girl is a mortal, come here because she has power from the Tesseract.”

           “How do you know that?” Loki spat, drawing me closer to his side to prevent Olaf from touching me again.

           “There are a large handful of guards that have dealt with her when she’s been in the midst of dangerous states.” Olaf shrugged. “Men are as gossipy as women, you know.”

           “I know it wasn’t one of the guards.” Loki’s voice was dangerously low. “I and Queen Frigga before me put a spell on everyone that dealt with Camryn and did not have our unconditional trust. If they tried to speak of her, their voices would not work. If they tried to write things about her, their hands would be stilled. Gods, even if they tried to act things out, their bodies would become petrified. I will ask once more: who told you?”

           “A concerned citizen that wishes to remain anonymous.” Olaf remained nonplussed. “One that told the High Council that this mortal is very, very dangerous.”

           “I’m training her to control her power,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t have outbursts anymore, and now I’m teaching her how to apply her abilities.”

           “Then she will know how to use this incredibly dangerous force, and it could mean terrible things if she turned against Asgard.” Olaf began to walk away from us. “I’m not trying to anger you, Your Majesty. I’m just passing along the message that the Council wishes to meet with her tomorrow. Just the usual, simple inspection like we do for all unplanned guests; nothing to worry about.”

           Once Olaf was out of earshot, Loki broke away from me and swore in a different tongue, and though I didn’t know the direct translation, I could tell it was blistering.

           “Loki…” I began in a voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to provoke him further. “You know it was Toril that told him, right?”

           “Of course I know it was Toril.” Though Loki’s tone was sharp and biting, it was clear that his anger wasn’t directed towards me, and that he was only raging at the situation. “It doesn’t surprise me that it was Olaf she used, either. He’s the only one on the Council that’s not a shriveled old man. She likely gave him information and then fucked him to convince him to tell his peers and call the meeting. That’s exactly why I tried so hard to hide you: to keep the lecherous Council from interfering.”

           “What’s so awful about the Council?” I dared to question.

           Loki, who had been furiously pacing through our conversation, suddenly stilled, voice calming. “They’re the only beings on Asgard that have more power than I do.”

           “How can that be?”

           “Well, perhaps not on all counts. In most aspects, they’re a royal council like one you would see on Midgard. They’re the king’s chief advisers, and each of them are masters of certain aspects of Asgard. For example, Olaf is Master of Agriculture. There’s one Councilman for each of the nine districts of Asgard, and they serve lifelong terms. They’re selected by a popular vote from their district, because the motto of the High Council is to keep the interests of the people as their priority, and prevent them from having a tyrannical leader. If the vote between the nine of them is unanimous, they can overrule or nullify any laws or commands, and they can even remove a king from the throne.”

           “What if the Council just doesn’t like a king, or they’re the ones that are corrupt and tyrannical?” I questioned.

           “That’s why they’ve never been popular with the royalty. If a king tries to overrule the Council or remove one of its members, he’s instantly branded as a tyrant and the Council removes him.” Loki smiled bitterly. “That’s why I didn’t want them, more than everybody else in the palace, knowing who you really are. If they deem you a threat to Asgard and its people, they can override everything Frigga and I have done and take action to remove you.”

           “Something in your voice tells me that I don’t want to find out what removing me would consist of,” I whimpered. Loki, clearly not wanting me to be upset any longer, softened his expression and took his face in my hands. I was suddenly entirely distracted from my fear, for it was the most natural and passionate thing to happen between us since our first kiss, and my heart began to pound in my chest.

           “I’m sorry. I’m overreacting. You needn’t worry about them.” He dragged his thumbs along my cheekbones. “I’ll convince them that you’re harmless, and they’ll leave us alone. They don’t call me Silvertongue for nothing.”

           I closed my eyes and laughed once, savoring the feeling of his cool fingers drawing soothing lines on my skin and the tenderness with which he cradled my head. “I didn’t know they called you that.”

           “It won’t be long before you find out why.” He leaned in and kissed me briefly, playfully running his tongue along my lips before pulling away. It was a simple, quick thing, but it was enough to cause me to throw my hands up in surprise and leave me flushed and breathless. I suppose our problem with not having heat is officially a thing of the past, I thought, my head swimming.

           “Now, you were hungry, weren’t you?” Loki wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me down from my daze. “Let’s go get you something to eat, hm?”

           And so we returned to my chambers and shared a meal with easy conversation suiting new lovers, filled with laughter and gentle touches, all the while our feet playfully rubbing against each other under the table.

           “Let’s change things up a bit,” Loki suggested as I walked him to the door at the end of the evening. “Would you like to come to my chambers for breakfast tomorrow?”

           I grinned. “I would love to.”

           “Wonderful. Good night, Camryn.” He leaned in and gave me a parting kiss, tender yet long. When he walked away, I felt as if I could float right after him, my toes tingling and my heart beating irregularly.

           “That certainly didn’t seem awkward,” Inge commented as she cleaned away the dishes. “What changed?”

           “We were angry and scared together. We have a common cause that’s drawing us closer,” I answered in a thin, dreamy voice, but as I slid down the door and hugged my knees to my chest, my mind couldn’t be further from Toril and the Council. All I could think of was Loki, and all I could do was count the seconds until I could have my lips on his again.

Next Chapter

[smallpressdistribution]

Feast your eyes and your shelves on October’s

SPD Recommends *Backlist*,

ten still-so-relevant titles selected by our very own Matthew Hedley!

1. Cold Genius - Aaron Kunin

Have you heard Aaron Kunin get excited about Milton yet? In love with things that are funny because he loves them, like Milton’s bible fan fiction, or Chiquita banana, or language meaning a particular thing. Is it fair to say Kunin’s quote clusters are a joke, a reflexive reassurance, a kindness that doesn’t force words down your throat, a presentation, a kindness, so that his book feels deeply kind. I appreciate the Ben Lerner blurb – “it occurs to me often to be grateful for his work.” Because I am, also, deeply grateful. Reviewers seem to delight in calling him a genius – because it’s in the title, maybe – but this book is so much more interesting than that. He’s a genius, who cares, “genius” is really a silly thing, don’t you think? It’s a brand, maybe, or something a lover says and is misunderstood and misunderstood until he figures in a Kunin poem.

2. Trances of the Blast - Mary Ruefle

This book of Ruefle poems is an odd gem. Its title is given the lie by the duration of its gaze. A stanza for the thing, a stanza for the feeling about the thing, a stanza for life after living with the thing. Remember Inception? That movie all the memes come from? This book has all the immediacy of an explosion in that movie, as time dilates wider and wider, until we’ve forgotten we were running from an explosion in the first place. What was that movie about? Or – wait, what’s this book about? It’s not exactly still, since there’s so much life ahead to get to, and it has pace, some yearning to be turned on, left on, but its movement comes from turnabout, the unwieldy and furry shift of a person looming in the midst of a poem. 

And so I have had to deal with wild intractable people all my days and have been led astray in a world of shattered moonlight and beasts and trees where no one ever curtsies anymore or has an understudy. So I have gone up to the little room in my face, I am making something out of a jar of freckles and a jar of glue 

I hated childhood. I hate adulthood. And I love being alive.

3. Monk Eats an Afro - Yolanda Wisher

This book is embodied poetry, the talked about but rarely seen kind. It’s important that the book is anachronistic in its sensitivity – Cry of Jazz came out in 1959, Monk Eats an Afro in 2014 – but Wisher loves jazz, and is good at it. The Sonia Sanchez blurb should be a giveaway of how in scene this book is to Philadelphia, to Philly jazz, to clubs where Sonia still holds court at a central table, with similar tables around, Wisher at another, someone, maybe Dawn Evans holds down a third, there aren’t that many tables but they’re mostly full, with men and women who make Philly great. Sure, I’m being overly romantic, because this is a literal memory I have, being in that room, being in my hometown, sometimes it feels like it might disappear, also – this book is romantic. Its romance poems are downright sexy, and god, when Wisher swings into a rhyme at the end of a stanza it rings out. There’s a body at risk here, recounting personal experience with a heady sense of its own cultural touchpoints. There’s something conservative about a jazz fanatic in this day and age – to go through every day hearing what the radio does while still pulling back to Monk and fam takes work, a love of the way things were – which, in context with the rest of this list, makes a deep commentary on how conservative poetry as a whole really is. Because this book feels novel and standout amidst the others of the list for how separate its references are. No other book on this list is more than one degree of separation (in terms of debt owed) from John Ashbery, and this book might be two, and that makes all the difference. It’s not that it’s “anti-academic,” because that term posits the academy as the thing, and everything else as lying in opposition. But I remember a creative writing professor ask a creative writing graduate student what she could possibly talk to a slam poet about. Monk Eats an Afro is incommunicable with that sort of thinking. Not opposition – a powerful voice, sure in her self.

4. Stories in the Worst Way - Gary Lutz

This book makes me want to write better. Lutz’ style should be ponderous -- the whole text appears at a glance almost as marginalia, like liner notes on liner notes, but nothing is frantic. Somehow it feels calm, even, impossibly, focused. Which can be a little frustrating -- the game of the title STORIES IN THE WORST WAY always cycling through my mind as I am shocked by the talent.  Because they are really well written and make you jealous and more than a little productive. Lutz makes me write. Because he really can write, and his overcrowded margin of a text feels absolutely effortless and easy for him, which is also impossible, and also untrue, and it’s – god, it’s frustrating! But if I didn’t have this book around, what other book could I use to make myself write. I admit, I throw this book around a lot. It’s a really nice weight and size to be thrown, and then picked up, mumble a bit, read the same story again, somehow write four pages, go for a walk, turn around mid-walk, come home and read the same story, write some more. It’s a book I love and picked from thousands of titles here at SPD -- and if you can’t handle being jealous and productive, I just don’t even know you.

5. Videogames for Humans: Twine Authors in Conversation - edited by merritt kopas

This book of playthroughs, essays, contexts, games and game-ified writing is unique and complex. Twine as a digital platform stands alongside all my other distant dreams of choice mediums for preventing academia and the state from incorporating language and work into their narrative. But, unfortunately, the space remains uncurated in meaningful ways to further that vision, which, as Wikipedia will tell you (by omission or deletion mill), perpetuates the same power structures as the world outside. So: CRY$TAL WARRIOR KE$HA (made pre-$ removal) is on the sample page today (looking absolutely amazing), while the most recent review is some undergraduate freshboy’s takedown of its writing structure. Which is to say that the academy is always uncomfortably present in the history and training of creators, players, readers – and even in the essays in VIDEOGAMES FOR HUMANS. The tension in the book’s movement back and forth between Kesha and undergraduate with a grudge is what makes the book so incredibly worthwhile. Beyond just a book for digital language nerds like myself, this collection feels so important for asking questions of how to create positive art spaces. Teenaged entertainment proposes an answer, negated in the misogyny of Lil Yachty, reconstituted in the queer narratives of Twine, complicated in the reactionary nature of write-ups… How will any of us make art in a time where to be an instrument of the state is such a bald-faced violence? But magic and a joy in loving self-sabotage shows a glimmer of hope: 

“There’s this assumption that if you stray from The Scientific Method into actually caring about things like lying on the floor of your room in the middle of the afternoon with black canvas hung over the curtains to keep the sun out with a single candle burning, wearing lipstick—even though you pretty much don’t wear lipstick any other time in your life—sort of meditating and sort of tripping off sensory deprivation and sort of falling asleep, that you had better take that weird stuff just as seriously and humorously as scientists are supposed to take science. Like basically magic can’t be weird or fun or fucked up or stupid on purpose. Which is wrong!”

6. Event Factory - Renee Gladman

Event Factory – There’s a setpiece of science fiction where worldbuilding, forced to include some cultural background for the book, treats us to speculative songs and poetry that are, let’s be honest, always awful. The cantina songs, the God-Whispers of Han Qing-Jao, the water songs of the Fremen – let’s be real, these are painful moments. Even Delany – sorry. But then you have Gladman, a luminary poet, writing her Ravicka novels, and suddenly, writing becomes speculative in parsing and content. There’s all the textured concentration and phrasing her talent begets, combined with a character-driven, engaging and difficult science fiction novel. So that our transportation occurs on every level – not escapism, because the density of idea and descriptor doesn’t admit such an easy movement – as we are other before it. It’s a deeply disturbing book, to be sure. The disassociative trip of finding things already happening to yourself makes the book a Ketamine nightmare in its darkest, half-sexual, half-prone. That’s a warning, I suppose, or as much of a warning as I can give for a book I’d like you to read. It’s a book of recollections, and it often recalls the worst. Go read it.

7. In the Time of the Blue Ball - Manuela Draeger, translated by Brian Evenson

This is the only book on this list I didn’t know beforehand, but god DAMN. It reminds me of Kathryn Davis, but with a different set of idiosyncrasies. Or Monica Furlong’s deeply strange cousin. Or it’s not really like another person, but an outstanding talent all to itself that speaks in an unusual voice, with a style and focus all her own. Still, it’s hard not to try to put it in context, because I hadn’t heard of Draeger previously. Shelley Jackson wrote the back cover blurb, and if you’re not down with Shelley Jackson, there’s nothing I can say to convince you to read this.

“I’m warning you, Potemkine,” said the tiger. “Now, here we are together in too small of a space. It’d be better if you didn’t wiggle in front of me. In the darkness, I could imagine that you were running.”

“I don’t look like a wharf rat,” I said.

“When someone starts running in front of me, it’s too late for distinctions between species,” said Gershwin.

Half-accessible, half-mystic fantasy that flirts with various reading levels, IN THE TIME OF THE BLUE BALL is a gorgeous book of fiction. With thanks to Brian Evenson for a stellar translation.

8. This Lamentable City - Polina Barskova, translated by Ilya Kaminsky

He lies naked on something white, She laughs above She covers him With her pearl, her body her Star, her body her snow, her body On top of the word “strange,” On top of the word “fright.”

Barskova wanders the city and chronicles, and edits, and edits, and edits what she sees. This book is beautifully refined, calm, sure.

“In our village where small animals live slowly And humans jump on them.”

I’d like to do this little feature with only quotes, quotes and gasps afterward. The above a reaction to finding the scattered remains of snails in the lane. I hope it snows where you read this, in the evening.

9. The Feel Trio - Fred Moten

Fred Moten. Glory, Fred Moten. One of the most talented writers of a generation who makes the balance of phrasing and legibility feel effortless. Not that every line is beach-read-legible, but that his word clusters are drop-dead gorgeous, and always feel intentioned and deserved. Throughout his published works, Moten remains a cheat-sheet for debut writers – “how do I get away with putting this really fabulous but loud phrase in my writing” – but THE FEEL TRIO is a monstrosity of confidence, even for him.

           “this a service on the surface for frank wilderness and carl flippant.            my absolute beauty studies feelings in an open afterlife. I hold him            and I’ve lost and I feel it in my hands and the sharp distance of his            little bother, explosive flower of I’m not ready and don’t want to.”

10. That They Were at the Beach - Leslie Scalapino

My favorite book of poetry has somehow never been on a previous SPD Recommends Backlist. The narrator of the book fascinates me – defensive in language, insecure in relative positions, honest in gaze – in her movements between mechanism and pathos. The formalization of language, centered around the em dash – pretending to be a device of clarity – reminds me of coding languages, its Turing-complete, it’s a half step from language, but in this case not towards clarity but something else, something that masquerades as clarity but is poetry. Which isn’t an opposite of clarity, but it’s not the same thing either. I find it impossible not to copy this book’s phrasing for months after I reread it, so I’m trying to be good here. It’s the book that made me love poetry.

[gilbertandanne]

Third installment to the Serendipity/Amaranthine universe. How far would you go in order to protect someone you love? WARNING: as with the first two parts in the series, there is an overall trigger warning for abuse (physical, mental, emotional). That, combined with the adult themes in this fic (alcohol, language, situations, etc), are the reason for the rating. Primarily Rucas.

Rating: M

Soundtrack (not at all in order and will be edited as the story progresses)

Word count: 8,935

A/N: I should have read this over one more time in it’s entirety, but I didn’t because I’m really struggling with a lot of insecurity right now (not to mention the numerous rewrites I’ve done to this chapter), so I’m sorry if this is God awful and makes no sense.

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine |

                                                Elysian

Chapter Nine: The Moirai

The Moirai were the three goddesses of fate in Greek Mythology. They controlled the mother thread of life of every mortal from birth to death. They were independent, at the helm of necessity, directed fate, and watched that the fate assigned to every being by eternal laws might take its course without obstruction.

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

It was a question Riley asked herself a lot when she applied to various colleges during her senior year of high school.  She even had to answer that question a few times as she filled out her essays.  Every single one of them contained this well crafted answer that encompassed all of her professional goals.  She wanted to act.  Broadway, she supposed, would be the ultimate accomplishment, but she would be more than happy if she could find steady work doing what she loved.  Her ten year planned consisted of four years of undergraduate studies, several internships at various theaters in the city (if she was lucky), which would lead to being cast in the chorus or perhaps a minor role in a production.  She anticipated being in the background for a while, but that maybe, perhaps, with a little talent and a lot of luck, she may eventually get a starring role sometime.

That was the dream, anyway.

As she reflected on the past week, she realized that not once, in all of those essays and considerations, did she think about what her personal life would be like in ten years.  Yes, she had dreamt of a life with Lucas and their three hypothetical children, but in all of her conscious planning, she never planned for their actual future.  He was always just there, by her side.

Until now.

Until she realized why she never discussed their future with him and why she never even considered answering that question about her personal life.  

For a week, she subconsciously did what Jessica asked her to.  She watched him.  She watched every single emotion that graced his face.  And now, here she was—sitting alone on their hill while everyone else peacefully slept at the house.

The party had lasted all night, just as Lucas predicted.  Everyone finally crashed around dawn, around the time Pappy Joe was just getting up for the day.

Riley tried to sleep.  She knew that maybe if she slept, she wouldn’t feel quite as off kilter as she felt all night.  Two hours later, she was up and wandering around the property.  Sleep didn’t help her at all.  She couldn’t turn her brain off from everything Jessica had told her.  It was as if Lucas’s ex-girlfriend had pulled back this veil Riley had thrown over her entire relationship with him.  Had she been wandering around in a dream world for the last two years?  Was that her way of trying to protect their relationship from the world around them?  They had finally found one another again—after Charlie, after the issue with her father, after the fight with Farkle—after all of that, they had chosen one to be with one another.  They loved one another.  They were right for one another.  They made each other better.  With him, she never felt more like herself.  She had learned how to forgive and move on because of him.  She learned how to trust again because of him.  She wasn’t weighed down by the past anymore.  He gave all of that to her.

But now, she realized, overcoming the past didn’t automatically mean that their future together was set in stone.

She felt the color drain from her face as she watched the water ripple across the lake.  She knew she needed to have this conversation with herself before she had it with him.  She had to face this reality before she could attempt to put all of it into words.

She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes.  The first image she saw was the smile on his face when he talked about those piglets.  As much as she loved him, and as much as she loved that smile, she knew what that smile meant.  It meant that this was his happy place.  This was his home.  This was where he felt free.  This place, this beautiful farm, his incredible family—all of it—helped to make him who he was now.  She had never seen him as happy as he appeared to be this week.  

She slowly laid down before she opened her eyes.  He had helped her find her salvation—her way out of the darkness that had strangled her for months.  He had always been there for her, even after she pushed him away.  

He loved her.

She loved him.

She knew that he would deny the fact that they had a problem.  She knew that he would insist that he would be more than happy to follow her to the ends of the earth if she wanted him to.

But, that was just it.

She didn’t want him to.

She wanted him to be happy.  She wanted him to always feel as happy and as free as he seemed to be this summer.  She wanted him to continue to rebuild his relationship with his father.  She wanted him to be able to be near his family in case Pappy Joe needed him.  She wanted him to be able to take care of the farm if Pappy Joe was ever unable to.  She didn’t want him to compromise any of his dreams for her.

She knew that Lucas would never ask her to give up her dreams to move here.  As Riley looked up at the crystal clear blue sky above her, she knew that she would never ask him to do the same.  In fact, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he ended up exactly where he was meant to be.  

Even if Charlie was being paroled at that very minute, even if the thought of him wandering around as a free man scared her, it was nothing compared to the fear that washed over her at the thought of Lucas being pulled back into that world.  After all, it wasn’t a matter of if Charlie was going to be released; it was only a matter of when.  Some day, maybe today, he would be released, and according to Lucas, he would happily seek him out in a misguided attempt at revenge.

Had Lucas changed in the last four years?  Absolutely.  But, it wasn’t as if he was magically cured from all the anger that he once held.  Yes, he had let go of a lot of his rage, but Riley knew that part of who he used to be would always be contained within him.  Had he learned how to control it?  Absolutely, but when Maya brought up Charlie, Riley could see that unresolved anger flash in his eyes.  She could practically feel it roll off of him.  He had let go of a lot of things over the last four years, but Charlie was still an unsettled issue for him—one in which Riley knew wouldn’t be resolved in the same way as it was done with Lucas’s father.  

Charlie wasn’t worth it.  Riley knew it, but Lucas was still completely unreasonable with it came to the subject of Riley’s ex-boyfriend.  If she couldn’t convince him to let go of his hatred, then the least she could do is protect him from it.  He had always protected her and she had always protected him—even if it meant protecting him from himself.

The thought of Lucas going from blissfully happy to murderously angry made her skin crawl.  She couldn’t do that to him.  Charlie was never his problem.  

So, no matter when it happened, whether it was today or whether it was seven years from now, she knew that she would do everything in her power to shield Lucas from diving back into the world they managed to walk away from.

As she wandered back toward the main house, she was nowhere closer to figuring anything out.  All she knew was that her future was in New York.  Her family was there.  Her friends were there.  Her, hopeful, career was there.  His future was here.  His family lived here.  Most of his friends lived here.  He was happy here.

What were they supposed to do?  For as long as she could remember, she was taught that love could help overcome anything, but this—she wasn’t sure how it could overcome something like this.  What kind of life would they be able to have if one of them gave up their dreams for the sake of the other?  Jessica was right.  They would grow to resent one another. Something like this, she couldn’t hide from him.  It hurt too much to think about.  She had happily remained in denial land for years now, but after last night—after the last week—she owed it to herself and to him to talk about it.  They hadn’t discussed their future at all, but now, it was all she could think about.  She didn’t even think about Charlie as much as she thought she would because even that seemed to pale in comparison to this.

They had no future together.

She spent the entire week trying not to think about it and the entire night last night coming up with a hundred different possible scenarios about their future, but not one of them ended in a ‘happily ever after’.  They all involved one of them making some kind of sacrifice for the other.

She knew that she needed to talk to him about it.  She knew that this was something too important to discuss over the phone when she got back.  If she waited until he returned to the city, she knew that it would completely consume her.  She was already barely speaking to him because of Charlie.  This was something she wasn’t even sure she could keep to herself.  At the same time, how could she even begin to bring this up?  She knew what it would lead to.  She knew what opening her mouth would do to them, but wasn’t the whole point of bringing it up now was so they could somehow figure out what their next step was—if there was even a next step they could take?

God, there had to be something.  There had to be some kind of way for each of them to get what they wanted out of life without having to sacrifice each other.  Surely they didn’t go through everything they did in high school just to fall apart due to forces beyond their control?  They were stronger than that, weren’t they?  Couldn’t the love they shared for one another overcome any obstacle—even their own conflicting dreams for the future?

She felt nauseous.  She felt like she was going to pass out.  As she walked by the stables, she briefly wondered if this was it—if this was the last time she would see this farm, these stables.  Would tonight be her last time on the hill with him?  

It couldn’t be.  No, that wasn’t a possibility.  They had survived so much.  It couldn’t just end.  Could it?

It was already mid-afternoon before the others woke up.  By the time Riley had arrived back from her hours long walk around the property, everyone else had just gotten ready for the day—what was left of it anyway.

The moment she entered the house, Lucas could tell that something was wrong.  Truthfully, he noticed that she seemed preoccupied the previous night, but had managed to convince himself that she must have just been tired.  They had a really long day yesterday and staying up all night probably didn’t help anything.  He realized that his own exhaustion from the previous night must have clouded his judgment, because after being able to sleep for about eight hours, he immediately sensed the heaviness that surrounded his normally cheerful girlfriend.  This was different than how she had been for the last month.  She seemed more out of sync, more contemplative, depressed even. He had never seen her look like that before—even when she went through the ordeal with Charlie, even when she saw him at his absolute worst when he got into that fight with Farkle.  This was something completely different, and it scared the shit out of him.

One look at her boyfriend, and she knew she was going to fall apart.  She felt the tears immediately sting the back of her eyes as they looked at one another.  She knew her face had already given herself away.  Charlie she could hide from him, but this?  This was something else entirely.

He wanted to go to her.  He needed to find out what had happened, but he was petrified to say anything.  His legs felt like lead as he stood in the middle of his grandfather’s living room.

Someone had to say something.  Someone had to ask the obvious.  Someone had to make some kind of move.

“So, Chubbie’s for our last night here, right,” Maya asked as she breezed into the living room.

“I’m down for that,” Zay responded as he entered the living room from the boys’ room.

Riley was the first to break eye contact as she forced herself to glance at her best friend.  “Y-Yeah,” she stammered before she cleared her throat.  “It’s…tradition…for the last night.”

“Did someone say ‘Chubbie’s’,” Farkle asked as he entered the living room.

Maya laughed.  “Anxious to dive into another plate of ribs?”

“Well, you know, it’ll be the last time I can get them for awhile, so I might as well, right?”  He glanced at Lucas.  “What time do they open?”

“Around 4,” he absentmindedly answered as he continued to stare at his girlfriend.  That one look from her had completely changed his entire mood.  Something was very, very wrong, and while he knew he needed to know what it was, he dreaded hearing the answer.

“It’s nearly 3:30 already,” Maya noted.  “Geez, time flies when you sleep all day.”

“Yeah, I hate that we slept most of the day,” Zay began as he sat down on the couch, “but last night was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Maya laughed as she sat down next to him.  “I have to admit that it was probably the best 4th of July celebration I’ve ever been to…and it wasn’t even the 4th.”

“Yeah,” Zay nodded, “It’s a pretty awesome tradition.  I’m glad you guys were able to experience that—at least once anyway.”

Maya glanced at Riley.  “Are you about ready to go get something to eat?”

“Sure,” she answered with a small smile.  “Are you guys?”

“Absolutely,” Farkle answered.

Riley barely touched her food.  She merely spent thirty minutes pushing it around on her plate so the others would think that she had eaten something.  

Lucas wasn’t fooled.  His gaze never wandered very far away from Riley ever since she came back from her walk.  With every passing second, he became more and more concerned. He had tried to be patient and wait for her to come to him, but his patience was non-existent now.  There was no way she was going to get on that plane tomorrow without telling him what was going on.  It wasn’t fair to him.  It wasn’t fair that he had to watch her pretend that nothing was wrong when in reality, it looked like the entire world had ended.

He didn’t eat.  He couldn’t even pretend to eat.  Every single thought he had revolved around her.  He knew that she wouldn’t say a word about it around the others and not while they were out in public.  He also knew that they were going to sit around a campfire later on, and if he had a chance of talking to her alone, that would be time to try to get her alone.  They had only spent one night stargazing since she had arrived.  He didn’t really question it until now, but as he stared at her, he knew that it was more than just fatigue that kept her away.

She was pushing him away.

He had to know why.

He deserved to know why.

“It’s a million degrees out here,” Maya whined as she watched Lucas and Zay stoke the fire in front of them.  “Is the fire really necessary?”

“It’s starting to cool off a little,” Riley told her.  “Besides, we wouldn’t have been able to make smores without it.”

“And you didn’t even eat one of them,” Lucas muttered before he stood up.  Riley loved smores.  They were one of her favorite things about campfires.  It was one reason why campfires became a last night in Texas tradition for them.  She could devour a whole bag of marshmallows on her own.  Like with dinner, Lucas had watched her slide marshmallow after marshmallow on her stick.  She went through the motions of placing it on the graham cracker with a piece of chocolate on top, but whenever it came to actually consuming the treat, she would look at it for a long moment before tossing it into the trash bag.  He knew that none of the others had noticed--all too absorbed in their conversation about the past week—but he had noticed.

Riley furrowed her eyebrows as she watched him walked a few feet away from them.  He had his back turned to the group as he crossed his arms over his chest.  She was certain that the others hadn’t heard him, but she had.  He knew something was wrong and she knew that there was no way she would be able to avoid the conversation she had spent the last hour trying to talk herself out of having with him.

“They’re messy, but they sure are delicious.” Zay pulled out the nearly empty bag of marshmallows from behind Maya.  He turned to Farkle.  “Want another one?”

Farkle’s stomach lurched.  “No, I’m ok.  I think I ate enough tonight to last me for the next month.”

“Are you feeling ok,” Maya asked him when she noticed how pale he seemed.

“No, I—“ his stomach rumbled.  “I…better go.  I don’t feel so good.”  He clutched his stomach as he stood up.  “I’m…sorry.”  He didn’t wait for anyone to respond to him before he made a beeline back to the house.  He swore to himself at that very moment that no matter how delicious they seemed, he was never going to consume another rib for as long as he lived.

“Good night,” Zay called out as he watched Farkle sprint toward the house.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him run that fast.”

“Poor Farkle.” Maya took a bite of her marshmallow.  “Some people just can’t handle three racks of ribs.”

“I’m not sure where he puts it,” Zay chuckled.

“I’m not so sure he was able to put it anywhere,” she pointed out.  “I think that’s why he’s halfway back to the house now.”

While Zay and Maya resumed their discussion about the best part of their week, Riley’s gaze shifted back to her boyfriend.  Through the light the campfire emitted, she could see the tension between his shoulders as his arms remained folded across his chest.  His head was slightly bowed, which meant his gaze was fixated on the ground rather than anything off in the distance.

She wasn’t how long he stood there before he suddenly spun around to face the group once more.

He took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto his girlfriend’s.  “Do you want to go on a walk with me?”

Riley glanced at Maya and Zay for a moment before she turned back to Lucas. “Uh…yeah.”  She swallowed before she stood up.  A wave of panic slowly rolled through her as she walked toward him.

Maya and Zay silently watched the couple leave.  

“Is something wrong with Riley,” Zay asked.  He wasn’t the most perceptive person in their group of friends, so he knew that if he had sensed the obvious tension between the couple, then there must be something to it.  “She’s seemed…off this week.”

Maya laid her stick down next to her as she tried to think of some excuse to give Zay that wouldn’t exactly be a lie.  “She’s just…stressed right now.  She doesn’t want it to ruin the trip, so she’s trying not to think about it.”  There.  Let Zay come to his own conclusion about what it was.  She knew that he would probably assume that it was the apartment search, after all, they all knew how stressed the brunette had been about it.

Zay sat his stick down next to Maya’s.  “Well, hopefully this week helped clear her head a little bit.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, content enough to watch the flames flicker in front of them.  Maya bit her bottom lip as she looked at Zay out of the corner of her eye.  She knew that this would be a completely off the wall question, but she wanted his honest opinion and perhaps the best way to get it would be to take him by surprise.  “Can I ask you something?”

He turned toward her.  “Sure.”

She took a deep breath.  Was she actually about to bring up something that happened in high school?  Before she could second-guess herself, she continued.  “It’s something I’ve been wondering about lately. I know it’s ridiculous, but I can ask you anything, right?”

What on earth could it possibly be that she had to preface it like that?  “Yeah.  Of course.”

“Ok…so…um…when we were in high school…when Lucas first came…he…he said that you used to refer to me as ‘the blonde beauty’.”  She cleared her throat.  “Um…what did that mean exactly?”

Zay chuckled nervously.  “Still remember that, huh?”  He had hoped that time would have been on his side and she would have completely forgotten about it by now, but of course she didn’t.  He wasn’t that lucky.  

“Well, it’s a little hard to forget.”  She clasped her hands together as she felt a wave of anxiety flow through her.  “Did that mean that it was all I had going for me?”

Zay’s smile faltered.  “No.  No.  Maya, I never meant for you to take it like that.”  It was quite the opposite actually.  Lucas had only told the group one thing he said about Maya.  Lucas, thankfully, never told the group everything Zay had confessed about the blonde who currently sat next to him.

“I’m not so sure how else to take it, Zay.”

“Maya, you’re beautiful…yes…but you’re so much more than that.  I told Lucas that when I first met you guys.  Ever since then I’ve…” he sighed as he felt his heart begin to race.  “You’re one of the smartest people I know.  You can turn a blank canvas into a masterpiece.  You would do anything for your friends…you even proved that when everything happened between Lucas and Riley in high school.  You have more talent in one finger than anyone else has in their entire body.  God, I feel like I could listen to you talk about paint drying and be completely enraptured…” he let his words hang in the air as he watched Maya lift her eyebrows in surprised.  Oh God.  What had he just done?  “I…might have said too much.”

Maya bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling.  “Was it…true?”  Did he really see her like that?  Was she really more than just a face to him?  Did he really think that she was smart and talented?

He nodded.  “Of course it’s true.  It was true then…and it’s still true now, but…”

“But?”

He took a deep breath.  He wasn’t at all prepared to have this conversation with her.  “I’ve always…had a crush on you,” he confessed.  “Even when you were dating one of my best friends.  I hated myself for it, but it never…went away.”

“Really?”  She couldn’t believe it.  He had a crush on her?  And it never went away?  Did that mean that he, maybe, still had a crush on her now?

“Yeah.  Why do you ask?”  He hoped that this wouldn’t make things awkward between them.  He had gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings for her—especially after she started to date Farkle.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.  “I feel like…like maybe we’ve gotten closer over the last few years.”  She wasn’t sure what it was, or how it really happened, but while the entire group recovered from everything that happened in high school, she found herself spending more time with Zay.  He had turned into her art museum buddy and in return, she went with him to various dance performances in the city.  They had really bonded over their mutual love of the arts.  She found herself looking forward to spending time with him, and if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she knew that she was going to miss him a lot over the next month.

“Yeah.  Me too.”  She wasn’t completely freaked out by his confession?  Was he dreaming?

“Do you…still like me?”

He looked into her eyes for a long moment.  “Yeah.  I think that’s the only thing that hasn’t—“

He was unable to finish the rest of his sentence as Maya pressed her lips against his.  He ran his hand through her blonde curls as he softly caressed her cheek.  He must have dreamt of kissing Maya Hart off and on for the last seven years.  Now, here he was, kissing the girl of his dreams.

Only, there was still the very real issue of Farkle Minkus that immediately came to his mind.  He slowly pulled away from her.  He knew he couldn’t do this.

“What,” she asked as she slowly opened her eyes.  She was completely confused.  That was easily one of the best first kisses she had ever had.  Did he not feel the same way?  “Was it…not…”

“No,” he shook his head.  “That was…incredible.  I just…what about Farkle?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s throwing up in the bathroom and swearing that he’ll never eat ribs again.  Why?”

“You and he dated for a really long time.”

“We dated in high school, Zay.”

“Yeah, and do you remember what happened when you guys broke up?”  It was two and a half years ago, but Zay knew he’d never forget the aftermath of that breakup.  He was the one who was there for Farkle after the fight with Lucas.  He was the one who listened as Farkle went over every detail of his relationship with Maya as he tried to make sense of where he went wrong.  As much as he liked Maya, Zay knew that he had to take Farkle’s feelings into consideration.

Maya sighed.  “He doesn’t…he isn’t…he doesn’t like me like that anymore.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true, Maya.  I see the way he looks at you.”

She frowned.  “So, because my ex-boyfriend looks at me…it means that I can’t…we can’t…maybe go out on a date or something?”

Zay shook his head.  “We’re finally all ok after what happened senior year.  I can’t risk that.”

Maya looked down as she watched the fire slowly die down in front of them.  He had a point.  She wouldn’t want to risk her friendship with Farkle, but at the same time, she felt something when she kissed Zay.  “Yeah.  Maybe you’re right.”  She slowly looked back up at him.  “But…you know how they say ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?’”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think that it could work for any destination…like say…Austin, Texas…by a romantic campfire under thousands of stars?”

He swallowed.  “You’re not making this easy.”

“All I’m saying is that…I felt something.  In a five second kiss, I felt something and I’m not sure what it is, but we’re both adults.  Who knows?  It could just be a physical attraction.”

“What do you propose?”

“It’s my last night here.  Riley and Lucas are off on a walk…probably at the hill.  Farkle is…back at the house.  All I know right now is that I want to spend my last night here with you.  You’re going to be here for the next month.  Maybe we can get this out of our system now…and not wonder ‘what if’…and by the time you come back to the city, we can just continue being friends.”  She placed her hand on his knee.  She had never proposed anything like this before, but there was something about all of this that felt right.  Was it just the setting?  She wasn’t sure, but she knew that she needed to find out.  “Zay, come on.  We’ve all dated around.  What’s so different about this?”

Yes, they had dated around, but this was different.  He knew that if he went down this path, Maya Penelope Hart would take up a permanent residence in his heart.  They were by a romantic campfire, under a million stars, and he knew the moment his brown eyes met her blue ones that he wouldn’t be able to deny her anything she asked of him.

“I feel bad just leaving them back there,” Riley began as she sat down at the very spot she spent most of the day at, “but I definitely wanted to get a little more of this view before I leave tomorrow.”  Small talk.  Small talk was good.  Small talk could cut down on the tension that had been building between them over the last few hours.

“You really love this place, don’t you?” He released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he sat down behind her and wrapped his arms around her.  Maybe he had been wrong?  Maybe she was just stressed about everything going on back in New York.  He knew that she didn’t eat much when she was stressed.  Maybe he had overreacted?  

“So do you,” she answered solemnly as she looked up at the same sky that always seemed to give her strength.  It seemed fitting that the clouds above them had prevented her from seeing the countless stars that normally hung overhead.  She closed her eyes when she felt his lips brush against her shoulder.  He wasn’t making this easy, but she knew that she had to say something.  They had to talk about this before she left because not knowing what to do was slowly destroying her.  “Do you…do you think you could see yourself here in a few years…once you graduate?”

He smiled against her shoulder before he placed another kiss against it. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly as he lifted his head to rest his chin on her shoulder.  “I haven’t really thought about it.”  He looked at the scenery around them.  It would be easy to picture them sitting in this very spot in fifty years.  “I love Texas, but I want to be wherever you are.”

“That’s just it, Lucas.”  She craned her neck to look at him.  This was it.  Everything she had been thinking, feeling, and denying was about to come out.  “What if where I want to be and where you want to be places us on opposite sides of the country?”

Lucas frowned.  Where was any of this coming from?  They had just finished their sophomore year in college.  They had plenty of time to figure out where they were going to live.  Was this what had been on her mind?  He nearly sighed in relief as he buried his head in her neck.  He waited a brief moment before he placed a gently kiss at the base of it.  “Riley, I want to be with you.”  He lifted his head as he tightened his grip on her in a non-verbal attempt to reassure her.  “I don’t care if I have to live in a cardboard box in a dark and damp alley for the rest of my life…as long as I can be with you, ok?”  He kissed the top of her head.  “All of this means nothing to me unless you’re here too.”

Riley slowly inhaled before she pulled away from him.  She turned her head back so she could look him in the eyes.  Everything he had said so far was exactly what she knew he would say.  It only strengthened her resolve to continue this discussion.  “What about your career?  Lucas, I can’t let you give all that up for me.”

“Who says I’m giving it up?  There are veterinarians in the city.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Riley, where is this coming from?”  The moment she pulled away from him, Lucas knew that this wasn’t some moment of panic about where they would end up in two years.  This was something that she had spent considerable time questioning.  

As she watched the seriousness of their conversation slowly dawn on him, she knew that she had to get this out while she still had any kind of strength to.  “It’s coming from the place inside of me that knows that we want to share our lives together, but at the same time, when you really think about it…one of us is going to have to sacrifice what we want in order to do it.”  She swallowed.  She wasn’t sure if she was making any kind of sense, but she knew she had to keep going.  “I love acting.  Tisch has offered me the chance of a lifetime to get my foot in the door so I can really pursue this.  I can’t…I don’t know.”  She sounded completely selfish, and maybe she was.  Maybe she was scared that this whole time he assumed she would move to Texas because she was ‘just an actress’ and that career path wasn’t nearly as significant as being a veterinarian.

“You can’t give up all of that hard work just to come live here.  Riley, I’m not asking you to.”  He knew that they had all the time in the world to figure this out, but as he watched the tears slowly form in her eyes, he knew that she had already spent a considerable amount of time doing just that.  Judging by the look on her face and the growing pit in his stomach, he knew that she had already made up her mind about it.

She slowly looked up into his eyes as the first few tears slid down her cheeks.  “I’m not asking you to stay in the city.”

“You don’t have to ask.”  His voice felt raw as he tried to decipher everything she wasn’t telling him just yet.  The look of defeat in her eyes was more than enough to shatter the protective wall they had built over the last two years to keep the world—and all of its attempts to pull them apart—away from them.

She had to press on.  She had to make him see that they had a problem—a very real one—that couldn’t be resolved in a five-minute conversation.  She had already tried to figure it out on her own, and she couldn’t find a single alternative that didn’t end in at least one of them hating the other.  “What about school?  You can’t study veterinarian medicine in the city.”

He knew that.  He had done the research.  He knew that he would have to go away for that part of his education, but he always thought she understood that.  He thought that she would be ok with having to pursue a long distance relationship for a while.  After everything they had been through, surely distance would be the last thing to ruin them.  “Riley,” his voice slightly quivered, “do you want to break up?”

Riley shook her head despite the fact that tears were freely flowing down her cheeks.  That was why she wanted to talk to him about it.  She didn’t want to break up.  She didn’t want to give this up.  She needed his help to figure all of it out.  “No!  I just…maybe this is why I haven’t…why we haven’t talked about our future.  The next two years seem perfect, but after that, no matter what scenario I try to consider, we end up in different cities, and I’m not sure how we’ll ever live in the same city.”  Verbalizing it, admitting that their future seemed cloudy at best made it all seem real—too real.  

He looked at her in complete and utter disbelief.  The hopelessness in her tone only drove home the fact that she had already given up on them.  “Are you saying that we have an expiration date?”

Her bottom lip trembled at the mere suggestion that someday, everything with him would end.  “I’m saying that…that…maybe I was wrong.  Maybe we don’t need to talk about this now.”  She wiped her eyes as her eyes fell to the ground next to her.  “All I want to do is lay here with you and look at this sky and memorize every single second of it because…because this is what’s going to carry me through until you come back next month.”  She shouldn’t have said anything to him.  She should have kept it bottled in until she had some sort of plan figured out.  

This whole conversation had taken him completely by surprise.  How long had she thought about all of this?  Why hadn’t she talked to him about it before now?  Why did this feel more like an ending rather than some small bump that they would figure out together?  He slowly stood up.  He had to move around.  He couldn’t sit still any longer.  All he wanted to do at that moment was run away—from the hill, from her, from a future that apparently didn’t include her.  “You’re saying we have an expiration date.”

Riley watched as he paced in front of her.  She wanted to lie to him and tell him that it wasn’t what she meant at all, but now that it was out there, she couldn’t take it back.  “Lucas, I don’t know.”

It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach.  He stopped pacing as he tried to absorb what the woman he loved was trying to tell him.  She didn’t know if they were going to last?  After everything they had been through, after everything he had told her, after every touch, every kiss, she didn’t know if they were worth fighting for?  “Is this why you’ve been distant from me this summer?”

Her eyes fell to the ground.  She couldn’t tell him about Charlie—not now.  Not when she didn’t know what had happened at his hearing earlier in the day and not while they were still trying to figure this out.  “I’ve been in New York and you’ve been here.  I think it stands to reason that we’ve been distant.”

Lucas scoffed as he placed his hands on his hips.  He looked up to the sky for a long moment before he glanced down at her once more.  “Don’t,” his voice was deep, pained.  He noticed her flinch at the heaviness of it. “Don’t play it off.  We both know that you’ve been pulling away from me.  I knew you were hiding something.”  He shook his head.  He wasn’t prepared to accept the reality of their conversation.  “I just didn’t think it was something like this.”

“Lucas, all I’m saying is that maybe…maybe we’ve been avoiding talking about it because it’s…it’s a big decision that we have to make.  I think that maybe…now that it’s out there…that it’s something we need to start thinking about.”

He fell to his knees as he found himself a few shallow breaths away from begging for her to reconsider everything she had just told him.  He cupped her face in his hands as he looked into her bloodshot eyes.  He wiped away a few of her tears as he silently begged her to tell him that everything was going to be ok—that this was all some test, just another little bump in the road to their happily ever after.  “What is there to think about,” he asked softly as he continued to brush her tears away.  “I want to be with you.  Anywhere.  Always.”  What else mattered?  They needed to fight for this.  They needed to figure it out—together.  God, he’d literally go to hell if it meant they would be able to be with one another.  How could she not understand that they could get through anything as long as they were together?  

She closed her eyes when she saw the desperation in his eyes.  She knew that was exactly how she must have looked last night after her conversation with Jessica.  As much as she wanted to reassure him that everything was going to be ok, she wasn’t convinced that it would be.  It wasn’t an easy fix.  It wasn’t something that could be resolved in one conversation.  It was going to take time and a lot of soul searching to figure it all out.  When she opened her eyes, she noticed that his eyes had filled with his own tears.  “I want to be with you, too,” she began as she desperately tried to bite back a sob, “but Lucas, this is…I don’t know what to do.”

He leaned forward as he pressed his lips to her forehead.  “Please stay,” he softly pleaded as he rested his forehead against hers.  “We can figure this out.  Please stay.  Please.  One month.  Riley, please.”  

“I can’t,” she bit out.  “Lucas, please.  Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

He leaned back from her.  “What can I do?  Riley, please tell me what I need to do.”

She wiped her eyes before she ran her fingers through her hair.  “I think…I think that we both just need to…to take some time and think about this.” Her voice shook as she looked up at the sky.  “I think that maybe we…we take the next month and…think about it…apart from one a-another.”

“W-What?”  His heart dropped at her words.  What did that even mean ‘think about it apart from one another’?  Two thousand miles apart wasn’t enough?  She wanted more space?

“I don’t know,” she finally cried out before she forced herself to stand up.  “I thought that maybe since you’re here and I’m there that it would be a…a good time…to just…take the next month and…and maybe not talk to one another.  M-Maybe we can figure out…what we really want…and maybe figure out a way to get it.”

“A break?”  He stood up before he closed the space between them.  “You want a break from us?”

“We need to figure out what we want.”

“But I know what I want.”  He cupped her face in his hands once more.  “I want you, Riley.  Nothing else matters if I don’t have you.”  He lowered his head as he brushed his lips against hers.  The moment he felt her kiss him back, his opened his mouth as he quickly deepened their kiss.  He was more than desperate for her to know just how much he needed her.  They didn’t need a break.  They only needed each other.

It would be easy to give in.  God, how she wanted to forget it all and give into this.  They could spend the next two years avoiding this entire conversation, but she knew it would be pointless.  “Lucas,” she gasped as she pulled back from him.  She gently nudged him back from her.  They had to talk about this.  They couldn’t just ignore it.

His desperation and despair slowly turned into anger.  How could she dismiss their relationship when he had given everything to her?  He was prepared to give it all up—everything he had dreamt for himself—just to be with her and she wanted a break from him?  “Fine,” he said as he turned away from her.

She could feel the anger rolling off of him, but he had to understand.  “Lucas, I just want us to figure out what we want apart from one another.  Maybe then we can figure out—“

“Nah, I get it,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he turned back around to face her.  “But what’s the point in waiting?”

Riley frowned.  Waiting?  This wasn’t waiting.  This was a break so they could figure out what they wanted outside of their relationship.  “What do you mean?”

“I don’t understand the point in waiting for a month.”  His voice shook, but he only saw one resolution.  “You’re right.  It would be easier to do this now…while I’m here and while you’re in New York.  I’ll be gone for four more weeks, and…I think you’ve already made up your mind.  I don’t think a month is going to change anything.  You’ve clearly been thinking about this for a while now…what’s a month of not speaking to one another really going to do other than to delay the inevitable?”  He swallowed.  “We’re already having this conversation, so why not finish it now?  Why wait?”  What the hell was he even saying?  Did he just tell her that he wanted to break up with her?  He didn’t want to break up with her.  He didn’t want a break from her at all!  Less than 24 hours ago, he was begging her to stay and spend the rest of the summer with him.  God, he couldn’t imagine a few weeks without her, let alone forever.

Riley felt the air around her completely evaporate as her mouth fell open in shock.  “Are you…are you breaking up with me?”

“Haven’t you already broken up with me,” he challenged as he finally allowed his anger to control his emotions.  It was easier this way.  It was easier to hide behind the fact that she had made this decision for them.  Waiting a month would only delay the inevitable.  He knew that.  She knew that.  “I feel like you’ve been thinking about this for awhile,” he added as he ran a hand through his hair.  “What’s one month of not communicating going to do?  We’ll be right back here…having this same conversation again.  Why not rip the Band-Aid off now?”

Her throat ran dry. This wasn’t what she wanted!  “I thought…I thought I could tell you anything and that you would…that it would…that we would…”

“That we would what? You’re right, Riley.  We don’t know what’s going to happen after we graduate, so it’s better to just…save ourselves the trouble of wasting two more years on something that’s…that’s always been doomed.”  God, it hurt.  Everything hurt.  His head hurt.  His chest hurt.  His whole body ached, but none of it compared to how badly everything felt on the inside.  It was all crumbling around him.  Everything he had worked for.  Everything they had survived.  It was all in vain.  All of it was for nothing.  He loved her.  He loved her more than he would ever love anything.  That’s why the thought of being in limbo for a month—of being scared every single day that his worst nightmare would become a reality—would be too much for him.  He couldn’t live like that for another month.  He had already been living like that for most of the summer.  He loved her.  He’d do anything in the world for her—even if that meant letting her go.  He had done it once, he could do it again, although this time it was ten times harder—because he was at least ten times more in love with her than he was back then.  “I’m giving you want you want,” he paused as he stared at the patch of grass next to her feet.  “What you really want, but are too nice to actually say.  You…don’t have to worry about it anymore.”  He cleared his throat.  “You can go back to New York and just focus on getting your apartment with Maya.  You don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

Tears cascaded down the brunette’s cheeks as she stared at the ground.  “Good thing I’m leaving tomorrow then, huh?”  Was this actually happening?  Some part of her knew that this would be inevitable, but did the inevitable have to happen now?  Everything around her felt like a dream—a complete and utter nightmare.  Would she wake up soon?  God, she hoped so.  She couldn’t stand the thought of having to exist in a world where they weren’t together.  

He knew that if he looked up at her, whatever fragments of his heart that remained would completely shatter.  Always a glutton for punishment, he forced himself to slowly look up at the only woman he knew he would ever love.  Seeing the tears in her eyes and hearing the quiver in her voice made him want to take back every single word, but he knew he couldn’t.  Was this what she had been thinking about for the last month?  Was this what she had kept from him?  It sounded like she had made her decision long before she even asked him about it.  What was the point in waiting?  What was the point in torturing himself for the next month—the next two years—about it?  God, this was it.  This was what she had been hiding from him all along.

She wasn’t sure how long they stared at one another in complete silence.  All she knew was that everything around her seemed thick—so thick that she had a hard time even breathing.  She could hear her heart beat throb in her ears.  This used to be her safe place.  It was where she first told Lucas everything that happened to her that night at the ski lodge.  It was where they decided to be together.  It was where he took her almost every night she was in Austin over the last few summers.  It was their place.  It was their oasis.

But not anymore.  The fairytale had ended.  The magical spell of the hill had been broken, because while it’s nice to think that there such a thing as a safe place in the world, the truth is that there isn’t.  At any given moment, your entire world could crumble and all you’re left holding are the fragments of a world you used to know.  Her eyes fell to the grass once more.  “I knew something bad was going to happen,” she murmured.

“What?”  He heard her, but he wasn’t the one who did this.  She was the one who had decided their entire future, or lack of one, without him.  That hurt more than anything.  She had decided that there was nothing to be done.  She had chosen this.  He was just the one who had the guts to pull the trigger.  She wanted them to think about this for the next month, but as he stared at her, he knew—he knew that wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Nothing.  I…um…better go…pack.  It’s going to be morning…soon…and I don’t want to…to…umm…bye.”  She wasn’t even sure if she had made any sense as the rush of words that poured from her.  She took approximately five steps away from him before she paused.  She took a deep breath before she turned back to look at him.  She wanted to stop everything—rewind time and ignore everything she had been feeling—but she couldn’t.  She slowly turned back around before she quickly left him behind as she began to navigate the path back to the main house.  If this had happened two years ago, she knew she would’ve gotten lost in the darkness, but the path from the house to the hill was one Riley now knew by heart.  ‘This might be the last time I’m here,’ she thought as tears continued to stream down her cheeks.  

She didn’t want this.  She didn’t want to break up.  She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but it certainly wasn’t this.  This was why she didn’t want to talk about their future at all.  She wasn’t sure where it would lead, if anywhere.  Apparently, he didn’t even want to try to work through it.  Maybe he knew all along that they were simply a dead end.

Lucas slowly sat down as he replayed their conversation.  It was over.  Just like that, the last four years were gone.  He knew he had made the right decision by ending it now instead of waiting until he got back to the city.  He knew that the distance would help him adjust to this new world he was now forced to live in.  He knew he couldn’t wait another month just to go back and have the same conversation with the same resolution.  She was right to force him to face their reality instead of getting swept up in their feelings for one another.  Even if they had tabled the entire conversation, what would happen in two years?  He was prepared to follow her anywhere she wanted to go, no matter where that was, but she didn’t want him to do that.  She wanted to live her life and she want him to live his life, and for some reason, their professional dreams seemed to be on completely different paths, at least according to her.  

Was there another reason why she brought all of this up now?  

Was there someone else?

God, he couldn’t even think about that right now.  His heart had already been pulverized.  If he knew there was some other guy waiting for her in New York, he might not ever leave Texas.

[daveeddiggsit]

Celebrity Crush - Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Note: It took me so long to finally get this out, but I honestly think it was worth the wait. :) Thanks @adothoe for proofreading. <3

Word Count: 2910

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: nada. just extreme amounts of fluff

The song you wrote with Daveed ended up becoming the first single you released from your album. When you released it just a month after you wrote it, the media went absolutely nuts. People loved the song and it wasn’t long before it became a hit. ‘Good for You’ being in the top charts meant one thing for you and Daveed: you needed to shoot a music video.

Now, this didn’t sound like it was a big deal at first, but the more you thought about it, the bigger deal it was. The song was…more on the sexy side of music than it was to anything else, which meant that your music video would have to mirror that.

You didn’t know what to expect the day of the shoot, but on the way there, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

“It’s Daveed, Y/N. You know, the guy you’re like– in love with? If I were you, I’d do a sexy music video with him any day.” Your manager told you on the car ride there.

“I’m not in love with him…” You mumbled, staring out the window. “It’s just– I don’t want it to get awkward or anything. Like, I don’t even know what our director’s gonna have us do.”

“I do,” your manager smirked.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.

“Well, I was supposed to tell you, but I didn’t want you to back out, so I decided that I wasn’t going to tell you until now.”

“Gee, thanks.” You mumbled.

“It gets pretty steamy.” She shot you a suggestive look. “There’s a bed involved at some point…and maybe a little bit of undres– ”

“Are you serious?” You asked in disbelief. Your heart started beating a little faster as you thought about what you had gotten yourself into.

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N. You’re just shooting a simple, easy peasy music video. It can’t be worse than that one photoshoot you did a while back.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I mean, it’s not like everyone’s gonna be watching us while this happens. Oh wait, that’s not true. You know why? Because the entire crew is going to be watching us.” You rambled off sarcastically, sending a slight glare in the direction of your manager.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m sure you’ve dreamt about moments like this with Mr. I-wanna-date-Y/N-but-she’s-been-too-busy-to-notice anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at her as the car pulled up to the house you were shooting the video at.

With it’s modern architecture extremely appealing to the eye, the house looked as if someone cut it out of a billionaire realtor magazine. Behind it laid a huge swimming pool with a waterfall flowing into it and a stone pathway that lead to a private beach.

When you got out of the car, you realized that the crew was already outside, ready to start filming. You quickly met with your director, Steven, to briefly talk before you were redirected to a room in the house in which they had turned into a dressing room.

You were told to change into a beautiful flowy charcoal dress before your hair and makeup crew did their magic flawlessly.

While being ushered back outside to begin filming, you saw Daveed looking as handsome as ever in a maroon suit that fit him perfectly and honestly made you want to stare at him for eternity. He was already filming his part, rapping in front of the camera, or cameras, and listening to everything Steven had to say after each take.

Daveed was so elegant in everything he did whether he knew it or not. He just had a certain aspect to him that made him fit perfectly into the scene that was being portrayed. You admired the way Daveed worked in front of the camera.

“Hey, sorry we started filming without you on set. We just want to get this done as soon as possible so we can start editing. We need to have it out on Vevo before next Friday if we want to qualify for a Grammy or VMA nomination.” One of the producers explained to you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. I appreciate you all for starting early. You guys always look out for me.” You sent her a grin.

You spent the next hour or so shooting scenes in front of the camera by yourself, doing similar things that Daveed did when he shot his scenes before you. One scene you’d be walking towards the camera, the next you’d be walking away. The wind blew, making your hair and dress flow perfectly behind you, creating a gorgeous, dramatic, and cinematic image for not only the camera, but everyone watching as well. Daveed watched you from behind your director in complete awe of your beauty.

It wasn’t long until your director moved onto a new scene that involved both you and Daveed.

“Okay, so this is how this is going to work. Daveed, you’re going to walk towards her and Y/N is just going to stand there. When you get to her, you need to both act enamored and get touchy feely, blah blah blah etcetera. Sound good?”

“Yessir,” you and Daveed chorused.

And you both did exactly what your director said. Daveed walked towards you and you stayed put, making eye contact with him as he approached you. You couldn’t help but blush and smile under his gaze, causing him to grin back at you. When he finally reached you, his arms w–

“Cut!” Steven yelled, making you both jump apart. “Do it again, but no smiles this time. I’m picky, I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”

You and Daveed sighed, but nodded in acknowledgement before Daveed moved back to the place marker 20 feet away. It was hard to hide your smile, but somehow you succeeded as he approached you again once the cameras began rolling. When he was directly in front of you for the second time, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you put your hands on his chest before you tilted your head back to look up at him. He was so close you could smell his cologne; you were closer to him than you’d ever been before. You lowered your gaze from his and leaned your forehead on his chest, moving your arms to wrap around his torso. You felt Daveed’s chin rest on your head as you embraced in front of the cameras.

Touchy feely, right? Surely this was good enough for your director.

“Perfect! Well done.” You heard Steven say. “We’re going to take a little break from filming before we move onto the next scene which will take place in the bedroom. Meet you all there in 10.”

After your director’s words, you tried to move out of Daveed’s embrace, but failed miserably as his arms wrapped you in a huge bear hug.

“Diggs, let go of me.” You laughed, trying to push him away unsuccessfully.

“Mm, you’re too huggable.” You heard his voice deep in his chest as your were pulled tightly to him. “Plus, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s only been two weeks since we had lunch at that cafe downtown.”

“Still too long,” he mumbled into your hair.

“Daveed,” you dragged, “at least let me see something other than your chest when I’m talking to you.”

“Fine,” he gave in, releasing his hold on you before looking down at you with a cheeky grin. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You rolled your eyes with a light chuckle.

You both headed inside of the gorgeous house with the rest of the crew, making a beeline to the large kitchen where refreshments were stationed at. Daveed leaned on the island while you leaned on the counter across from him after you each grabbed a water bottle.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Daveed spoke up.

“You know they’re gonna make us kiss, right?” He asked, his shy persona slightly seeping into his voice.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, I figured.”

He was quick to reply. “Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sure we can find a– ”

“No, I want to,” you stopped him with a breathy laugh, “trust me.”

He grinned back, but then furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “It’s just– they’re all gonna be watching us. And I know it shouldn’t matter, but it puts more pressure on us…and it’ll be our first kiss and– ”

“Well, I mean, it doesn’t have to be our first kiss…” Daveed trailed off, setting his water bottle on the counter next to him.

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. “What are you implying?”

He pushed himself off of the island and sauntered in your direction, now towering over you.

“I’m implying,” his hand slowly came up to cup your cheek before he tilted your chin up towards him, “that we could have our first kiss right now.”

Your heart began beating twice as fast as before as his head slightly dipped down towards yours.

“Just so we’re not worried about having it in front of the crew.” His voice had dropped significantly lower than it had been a few minutes before.

You nodded slightly, before you felt his lips just barely brush against yours–

“Hey, save that for the camera!”

Both you and Daveed immediately jumped apart just like you had when you were interrupted outside by your director. You turned to your left to see your manager grinning mischievously at both of you from the entrance of the kitchen.

“Steven wants you guys upstairs now. He uttered something about you two taking too long.”

Daveed sighed, taking a step back and rubbing at his stubble. “To be continued…”

Nodding in agreement, you started to head up the stairs with Daveed trailing behind you. You were nervous. You knew these next couple of scenes were going to be the scenes that would get steamy; you just didn’t know exactly how steamy they would get.

You’d find out sooner than later.

As soon as you and Daveed entered the bedroom, Steven greeted you both.

“Ah, you finally arrived! Hope your less than ten minute break was fun, now it’s time to get back to work.” He said, clapping his hands together. “Now, undress each other.”

Your head snapped in his direction.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“This next scene involves the two of you slowly undressing each other, or at least unbuttoning and unzipping each other’s clothes. After that, then we’ll switch scenes to the bed.” Your director stated.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out a nervous laugh, slapping a hand on your face.

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, turning you around.

“Hey, it’ll be fine. We’ve both been theatre folk at one point, this type of shit is normal for us.” Daveed reassured you with a grin.

You returned his smile, grateful for his effort to make you feel comfortable. “Alright.”

When the camera started rolling, you reached out to undo Daveed’s tie. Once you were successful, you dropped it to the ground before moving to undo the buttons on his white shirt. Daveed pulled you against him with his hand flat on your back so he could pull down the zipper on your dress. With Daveed’s lips pressing a tender kiss to your jaw, you pushed his suit jacket and button-up off his shoulders in one move. Not even a second later, your dress had pooled down around your ankles.

After your director told you that was good enough, the scene was cut and you and Daveed were sent to the bed in nothing but your undergarments.

While the cameras and crew repositioned themselves for the next scene, the two of you slipped underneath the covers of the bed.

Daveed turned to his side, facing you and propping his head up with his elbow.

“Hi.” He grinned cheekily.

Amused, you raised an eyebrow. “What up, Diggs?”

“Oh, you know. Just layin’ in bed with my favorite girl.” He stated casually.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his bicep. “Stop it.”

He laughed heartily, causing you to crack a smile. After a few seconds, he calmed down and gazed down at you.

“You ready for whatever comes next?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

Your nervousness from before had almost completely vanished. Having Daveed next to you calmed you down a great amount and helped you feel almost completely at ease.

You nodded, still smiling up at him. “I think so.”

“Good– ”

He was cut off once again by, you guessed it, your disruptive director.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Steven’s voice boomed over all the commotion that was going on during the mini-break, effectively silencing the room. “Since the only noise in this music video is your song playing, I am going to be telling you guys what to do while we’re rolling; that way we can do most of this in one take. Make it natural. Most of this will be improv, and I think you both will do just fine, but just know your boundaries.”

Daveed and you both nodded before “Start rolling the cameras, aaand action!” was yelled out.

You moved to straddle Daveed, making the covers slip off your upper body to pool around your waist, revealing both you and Daveed’s upper body to the cameras above and surrounding you.

“Act like you’re in love or whatever.”

“I don’t think they’re acting…” A quiet voice came from beside Steven.

Daveed was completely entranced by you as you gazed down at him. You could feel his breaths as they became increasingly irregular the longer you looked at him. His mouth was slightly parted and his eyes fluttered when you brushed your fingers against his stubbly jawline.

“Kiss him.”

And you did. Your lips met softly for the first time, gliding over each other smoothly. It was everything you could have imagined in a kiss with Daveed. Nobody else in the world existed except you two.

Daveed’s hand cupped your face to bring you closer to him, trying to minimize any and all space in between you. Because he wasn’t satisfied, he rolled over so he hovered over you, deepening the kiss while doing so. His tongue found its way into your mouth, tangling with yours heatedly.

You reached up to feel his abs against you before he grabbed your left hand, intertwining your fingers and raising it to rest above your head. Daveed broke the kiss to trail warm kisses across your collarbone. A pleasurable sigh emitted itself from your mouth as he buried his face into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the skin there.

Nearly panting, you pulled Daveed’s lips back up to yours by holding his jaw. This kiss was much slower and sweeter than the first. Sometime during the kiss, you and Daveed began to grin widely, causing you to pause a bit in between kisses. It was as if you both realized something at the exact same time.

You both reluctantly pulled away, breathing hard as Steven yelled “cut!” Still grinning, Daveed moved off of you to sit on the bed and pulled you up to do the same with the hand that was still interlaced with his.

“That’s a wrap everyone! Good work today! You all can get ready to head home.” Steven announced, causing the crew members in the room to start wrapping everything up.

You and Daveed were handed robes by two assistants who you thanked before you let go of each other’s hand and stood up, slipping the soft material on.

The next thing you knew, you were running down the stairs hand in hand and giggling with Daveed, beelining for your makeshift dressing room. As soon as you closed the door, you and Daveed were on each other again, attaching your mouth to his as you let him press you against the door to the room. You moved to remove his robe when his hands grabbed yours, preventing you from doing so.

“Wait wait wait,” he breathed. “Are you busy?”

“What kind of question is that, Diggs? We kinda both are at the moment.” You laughed, pulling his lips back to yours.

Daveed melted into the kiss before he tried to speak in between pecks. “No– I mean– like– ”

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “Other than this. Are you busy? Do you have plans or a busy schedule in the near future? Is there somewhere you need to be?”

You didn’t know why he was asking this, but you answered anyway. “No, I guess not, why?” You asked, curiosity seeping into your tone.

“Date me.”

“What?”

He was smiling widely now. “You said on your interview with Ellen that if you weren’t busy, then you’d date me. So..?”

Your heart fluttered and a smile grew on your face. “You still remember that?”

He nodded promptly, making some of his curls bounce.

“Yes, I’ll date you, you dork.” You answered, bringing his face back to yours to attach your lips to his.

Daveed sighed happily into the kiss.

“It’s about damn time,” he breathed against your lips.

And that’s how you began to date your celebrity crush.

[apirateandaprincess]

Why tonights episode was amazing and Hook is still a Hero

Okay, so I am a bit tipsy, and will probably be editing the spelling errors in this tomorrow, but I have been without internet for the last 5 hours, and HAVE been desperate to talk to my fellow Captain Swan fans, and more importantly in relation to tonight’s context KILLIAN fans about what all went down. 

Let me first start off by saying a few REAL things in regards to my own reaction tonight.

1. I LOVE THE THE FIRST 55 MINUTES OF THIS EPISODE lol. I’ll get to why I deep deep down love the last five minutes as well, but I have to say that was one of the best bromance episodes we could have asked for. I mean lets be honest, the captain charming Bromance is great, but we’ve been craving for some very straight forward acknowledgement on dave’s part and some actual upfront proper gif worthy touching/contact in regards to Killian and Charming for a long while. I mean the shoulder lean AHHH. That blessing scene GAHH. It was beyond perfect. 

2. I had a gut feeling they were going to have Killian be the one to do that. If you had a nervous nellie in your inbox asking if YOU thought it would happen. Hello, hi, nice to meet you. That was probably me. Did I let others calm me and did a large part of me think maybe he wouldn’t be the one to do that? Yes. Did I become even more convinced of that idea while watching? Yes. Did that make it sting that much worse? Absolutely of course.

3. If you were screaming during those last few minutes, don’t worry. I was over here in Florida, doing the same. You. Were. Not. Alone. 

4. Do I think they have Killian atone for his sins too much? Yes. But we all know dark dangerous captain hook is a thing many people enjoy watching, and if we don’t want present hook to show those behavior traits anymore, the only way to still see and enjoy those things is from seeing flashbacks of his darker past. So am I personally done with the atonement? Yes. But I also know that’s because A. I just want him to be happy. B. It’s not realistic to never see these dark sins of the past because dark gritty hook is entertaining AF and C. His atonement and redemption is why I fell in love with him to begin with. 

SO THESE THINGS ABOVE were the very visceral, very real things I wanted to get through before I tell you my after thoughts, and that’s not only more important, but it’s where the good stuffs at. 

So why was this episode awesome, and yes, even those last few bloody moments. 

1. First and foremost THAT BROMANCE YA’LL.

I mean we were given everything we wanted for those first 55 minutes on a silver fucking platter. I have yet to browse Tumblr. I got internet and came straight to writing this post but I expect 100,000 gifs after I’m finished here, of pure amazing moments. I mean they literally kneeled with each other. Charming literally put his head on Killian’s shoulder. They turned around in a dorky circle together and did magic as bros. Charming saw the good in him, and verbally fucking acknowledged it to Killian’s face all while being a little cheeky and telling him he was good enough for his daughter. I mean shit. Jane. Is. A. Fucking. God. for that scene.  

2. It surprised us

I know this may seem a bit transparent but let’s admit a few things to ourselves (and I’m generalizing a bit here). First, we want the best for our faves. Of course we don’t want Killian to be burdened and sad for things he did in his past when he is someone we watch the show for, relate to, love, or all three. It makes sense for us to want good things for him and more specifically for us to want him to have the opportunity to enjoy that feeling of acceptance and change that we saw him really acknowledge from David and even as a whole tonight. This is why our guts turned in the last few minutes. Because we knew he would hurt in response. Because we know what’s coming. And what’s coming is this: Good old fashioned angst on our favorite pirate’s part. A bit of loathing topped with a sprinkle of doubt in regards to his self worth. And it hurts us. But while we are admitting these things, let us admit another. We are some lucky ducks. We have gotten an amazing redemption arc and we are spoiled, by...well... spoilers. Once Upon A Time, at least for me, is not something I’m really shocked by anymore. I see things coming from a mile away. Being THIS into the fandom, allows me to do so. But tonight. I was legitimately surprised. Now I know I mentioned that I believed he would be the one to kill Charming’s dad. That is still true. But holy shit did this episode not direct me away from that thinking for the first fifty five minutes. I mean up until August drove up to Hook on the front steps, I had no bone in my body that still believed it would go that way. THEY DID AN AMAZING JOB at directing our beliefs elsewhere. And for the first time in a long time OUAT surprised me again. And surprising your viewers, is part of, at least in my opinion, what makes you not only still relevant but GOOD at your job. So, CLAP CLAP CLAP for Jane.

3. REGINA’S PAST

I wanted to make a quick post about Regina’ vs Killian because I know it’s going to be a topic of conversation at this point. Let me preface this by saying I know a lot of you know I’m not a fan too much of Regina at the current moment. I used to be. But these days it’s weighing more towards the opposite side. How does this relate to this episode? Well let me tell you. When I first got finished watching this episode one of the few things I thought of was how this (as in Hook killing Charming’s dad) was going to be used by the anti’s for why Killian is a horrible person. And in having that thought and thinking about the episode at the same time it reminded me even more so WHERE IT IS THEY DIFFER. My issue with Regina has never been what she’s done in the past, but how she handles what she’s done in the past in the present. It’s my personal opinion that Killian redemption arc has felt more authentic and true. We have seen him make real amends and strides towards being a better person. It’s more concrete for me. And while I think it’s the writers intentions to do the same for Regina and at the end of the day I do agree she’s changed, I just think characterization and writing wise the redemption arc for killian has been exponentially stronger and more believable/tangible. Again I’m bringing this up because this episode was a HUGE REMINDER that my issue with Regina isn’t WHO she was AND what she’s done BUT how she handles WHO SHE WAS and WHAT SHE’S DONE. So for all the nervous nellies wondering how can they root for Killian still... well...

This brings me to my next point

4. IF THIS SHOCKED YOU,???

Now don’t get me wrong. When I say shock I don’t mean surprise. Surprise at the writers making this decision. Surprise at them going this route. Surprise at the reveal. This isn’t where my ??? (CONFUSION) comes into play. What I’m a bit confused about his how people are shocked that Killian could have done this. He has admitted, to us, and to Emma that he has killed people and done awful things. He was a villain. If you like a villain on this show, odds are they killed someone and were a bit of a dick in the process and this killing/dickishness is somehow entangled with the born and bred heroes of the show. So while I want to say first and foremost to everyone reading, I am in NO WAY telling you how to feel. I do have to say if this caused you TO GIVE UP ON KILLIAN JONES as a character, than I’m not sure you were quite aware of who you liked to begin with. He WAS a villain. He’s done awful things. This is something we should all know by now. 

5. REACTION

So this episode was amazing, and yes even those gut churning last few seconds, because it is truly going to test the reactions of those around him. What happens when you have a literal blessing from those who used to think all you were was a pirate? What happens when just two seconds ago you knew you were a man of change and the world around you looked bright? What happens when you’re the only one who knows the ugly truth? What happens when the woman you love says she is okay with your past and all that matters is who you will be TODAY/NOW? What happens when the woman who says these things is the one you now want to marry? This REVEAL, as shitty as it may feel to many of us, is going to show us the true colors of those around us once again only this time it will matter more because the wedding is coming. And it’s going to be grand. 

We’re going to see the EMMA SWAN WE LOVE. The one who believes in her pirate and KNOWS he’s changed and roots for him outwardly despite his past. We’re going to see her believe in him, forgive him, and move on from the worst of the worst of his past and we will have the most solid example that as husband and wife they can make it through any ghost that pops up because they made it through THIS. 

We’re going to see David, who just accepted Killian (with no personal reasons not to) accept him once more but this time ITS GOING TO MEAN MORE. It will mean more because now when he ACCEPTS him and acknowledges that he’s changed it will be after also acknowledging that that change is from someone who did something that harmed him in the past as well. It’s easier to believe in someone’s redemption when the wrong they did didn’t directly affect you. It’s a lot more powerful to do so when it has. 

We’re going to see Snow do the same.

We might even see Regina relate to Killian’s past and current attempts to be a better person and support him as a result. 

Now don’t get me wrong. Will i think a few characters will be quite hurt/shocked. Yes. Some, namely David, more than others. But do I doubt they’ll move past it? Nope. Not at all. 

6. REEVALUATION. HOLY SHIT THIS POINT HERE IS WHY WHAT HAPPENED IS WRITING GOLD. 

Okay so i have a feeling most if not all of us CS/CC fans watched this with the same thought. OMG this friendship has come so far. OMG this is the most perfect episode. OMG look at how our pirate has grown and become a real hero. We watched this episode and we saw two REAL friends. We saw acceptance, and growth, and felt pride in Killian being seen as a HERO by not only Dave but by himself and in the larger SCHEME of the show. And after feeling all those amazing things... 

STAB.

Right. In. The. Stomach. The knife was planted and turned. And this is where the genius comes in.

Because after feeling all that we felt, we we’re hit with a dirty awful deed of our pirates past. Only this time it leaves us with a burning question. 

Is all the good erased because something already set in stone and engraved in history was brought to light? 

Is a person’s redemption no longer real in current time because you now know of something they once did? 

Do all the feeling that you felt up until those last few minutes disappear because something from the past was brought to light?

OR DOES HOW YOU HANDLE YOUR PAST AND WHO YOU ARE TRYING TO BE NOW STILL REALLY MATTER?

WE ...JUST LIKE THE CHARACTERS WILL BE, are forced to look back on everything good that just happened with new eyes. And this right here is some powerful shit. Because I’m hoping most of us know and can see/acknowledge/learn from this that what you did in the past DOES NOT INVALIDATE THE GOOD YOU ARE DOING NOW. Who you once were does not invalidate who you are trying to be. It is how you handle your mistakes that matter at the end of it.

Essentially we have all talked the talk. We have all admitted that the reason we love Killian Jones is because we have seen him change and make up for the wrongs he has done. And now, much like the characters, we can either continue to be people of our words or we can admit that all we’ve done is just talk. 

So at the end of it all I know that it hurt. And I’m not going to lie and say if I had to choose I would have wanted this. I wouldn’t have. I would have much rather it stayed happy and not have the gut hurting knife feeling stabby stabby pain that those last few minutes caused me. But i’m not also going to lie and say I didn’t see the creative genius in how this was all done or why it was done. I root for Killian Jones because the idea of redemption and becoming a hero is not only something I can relate to and enjoy watching but it’s also something Killian Jones has done exponentially well throughout this story.

 I know this pirates past and I’m not clueless to the wrong he’s done. Just as I’m not clueless to Rumple or Regina’s past wrongs. But it isn’t this past I care about or the past that has made me fall in love with this character and how it was written. No. I fell in love with the story of redemption. See It’s the man he’s trying to be now that makes me root for Killian Jones. It’s the way he has tried to redeem himself that has made me root for Killian Jones. And it’s Killian Jones that I will be most proud of at the end of this arc.

See This episode was an amazing story of bromance and change and forgiveness and redemption between two men that started as adversaries. It is something that I am sure I will be reblogging for years. It left me giddy for nearly the entire time.  

I have no doubt we will see after the initial feelings of his, the man we all love come forward and do what he’s always done. Admitted to his wrongs and try to make amends.

I also don’t doubt that after the initial reactions of others like David and Emma we will also see them do what they always do. Admit that people change and that it’s who you are NOW that matters. 

Having this happen at the end of the episode and before the wedding is going to make not only US people of our words but it’s going to make the characters people of their words and its going to be a strong concrete example that no matter what awful thing from the past comes up, these characters know eachother, know how they’ve changed, and will always decide to move forward and believe in one another as they do. 

TLDR: Killian Jones was a villain. He has murdered people. This is not shocking. We know this. But it’s not who he was that matters. It’s who he is. And who he is at the end of the day is someone who always ends up acknowledging his wrongs and making the proper steps to amend for them. And his redemption is always something I will get behind because it’s what made me fall in love with his character to begin with. Sure the characters AND the viewers, might react in a visceral way at first, some more than others, but at the end of the day they and we can either do one of two things. 

1. We can show that we/the characters are people of our words. That they/we truly do believe change is real and important that what matters most is who we are trying to be. What matters IS NOT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE THAT MAKES YOU REDEEMABLE AND A HERO, IT’S WHAT YOU CHOSE TO DO NOW. HERE. IN THE FACE OF HARD TIMES AND EVEN IN THE FACE OF YOUR WRONGS.

Or

2. We can admit we lied. 

[emalynde]

D&D Soap Opera Synopsis 9/10: Emalynde Edition

((The following is the report “required” of Emalynde, a courtesan/contracted intelligencer, for lead intelligence agent Thalandril Van’drys--her lover and Chelyse’s now rather estranged lifemate.  Emalynde is well aware that the secretary who requested the “official document” simply wants a sordid play-by-play of her adventure and that any guise that the record is necessary is just that--a guise. This entry starts at the fourth day’s account, the prior three chronicling her journey from Evermeet to the Fae Wilds to Nexus City, then several days spent in the company of Savid Velikov.  Jhanys, the receptionist in question, is positively enamored with the giant dusk elf.))

DAY FOUR: It was this day that I met the remainder of the group in question, namely the House Dawnbloom’s youngest children and their sha’quessir, along with a rather pretty human.  We broke our fasts together whilst planning to attend some sort of festivity.  You would not believe the sheer variety of creatures that occupy the region, Jhanys.  For instance, the pretty human threw mashed potatoes at this group of young elves and the plate happened to belong to a fire giant seated nearby, who was none-too-pleased at the use of his breakfast as a projectile.  The beast was the largest sentient being I’ve ever seen! I must admit to having giggled, but apparently it caused somewhat of a fuss.  The enormous creature thought it purchased the human?  I think?  I could not understand the exchange.  Speaking only elvish in this sea of species was rather limiting.  Either way, Chelyse was forced to intervene, which was likely quite necessary at that point.  Slavery is such an awful thing, and a rather enormous miscommunication to have.  The brute actually listened to her, though.  After that, your darling Savid and the youngest Dawnbloom, Adryssa, decided that the three of us needed new attire for the occasion.  Although the lot of them were wildly unprepared to attend such a celebration.  They had not even secured tickets!  And it was for the very same evening!

Wilson, the guild’s doorman of sorts--perhaps butler is a better term?--refused to permit me entry into the evidence room to secure the copy of the invitation we needed.  The idea was to produce enough to gain admission to the gala.  The man was veritably immune to my charms, which is ever so vexing, as you might imagine.  Adryssa was able to secure entrance, as she was a guild member, and we found out that the document in question had been checked out by one Ricatavio.  The girl knew him, so we paid the man a visit.  I shall have to take you on my next trip, Jhanys, as this Ricatavio was no man, but an eladrin.  Positively beautiful.  You would have adored him.  His cheekiness rivals your own.  And he is lovelier than I, if such a thing were possible. Unfortunately, and I am still unsure how, the eladrin knew of my identity as well as my association with Thalandril.  There were a few frightening moments in which I thought myself compromised, but he only wished to be privy to Thalandril’s information on Evermeet.  Can you imagine?  By Hanali.  Of course, I gave him nothing.  Betraying Thalandril would be my last action in this life--either he would have my head should I speak or I would lay down my own life rather than surrender his.  In order to attain the mentioned invitations, we had to reach an agreement as to the trade of information--but it is only at Thalandril’s whim.  Yes, I have already discussed the details with him.  No, you needn’t any paperwork on it; it’s off the books. You shall be happy to know that I sated your curiosity.  Not only did my abilities have no effect on Ricatavio in the least, but he desired my companionship despite my failed charms.  He agreed to make the invitations, but that I should also bed him.  The notion was premised on the fact that Thalandril must keep me around for some purpose, which I only assume was intended to be a slight to my skill of reconnaissance.  Not that I could contest as much at that point, but I had no qualms putting the eladrin in his place within the bedroom.  The only complication was that the poor Dawnbloom child got entangled in some sort of bondage device of Ricatavio’s whilst looking about.  He freed her, after having a laugh, and bade her return in several hours for the mentioned invitations. ((Emalynde gives a detailed account of her rendezvous with Ricatavio, sparing Jhanys, who often lives vicariously through the redheaded enchantress, no detail.  Think middle-aged, sassy secretary who’s into ‘Magic Mike’ and might be dealing with a mid-life crisis.))  I might have actually expanded my repertoire--with the eladrin’s help.  So Savid will have to be only one on your list of pursuits within Nexus, Jhanys.  I do highly recommend him, although be wary of the biting wit and general condescension.  Ricatavio thinks quite highly of himself, but his animal companion, a great beast of a cat, will happily put him back in his place for you if need be.  Mr. Kittums might be the only individual that can curb the eladrin’s narcissism. We decided to have Chelyse and her dusk elf consort secure the invitations when the ranger had finished with them, so that the three of us--Savid, Adryssa, and myself--could find something to wear.  At breakfast, we had discussed the need for Adryssa to find a date to the engagement, as she witnessed Savid request my company for the evening.  We took her flying carriage--although think of it as the metallic union of a wagon and a boat--that’s apparently powered by a fire elemental.  I am unsure why the elementals remained caged thusly, but perhaps I am not privy to the agreements reached.  Or perhaps the world works differently here than in Evermeet. The ride was exhilarating.  Have you ever flown?  We soared about the city and the view was absolutely breathtaking.  Everything is so much more varied in design and architecture here than Evermeet, where the uniformity and elegance of our fair city are key.  We soon arrived at the home of whomever Adryssa wished to take to the evening’s activity--a rather artistic area of town.  I jest you not, Jhanys, the individual in question was a demon!  The spawn of one, at least.  If my education serves, the race is referred to as Tieflings?  House Dawnbloom would be devastated to know that their youngest progeny was consorting with such creatures, much less on a romantic level.  I wonder if Thalandril plans to utilize that knowledge to his ends.  T’would not surprise me.

Although I could understand nothing that was said unless Savid chose to translate, Temerity--as she was called--seemed peaceful enough.  I must admit to being rather wary, but neither your darling Savid, nor Adryssa, seemed to bat an eye at the presence of such a being.  It--or she, I should say--appeared to be an artist, rather morbidly erotic paintings displayed throughout.  The shop itself reminded me of a vampyr’s residence: all blood-colored velvet contrasted with black accents and furnishings.  The same coloring as the tiefling, now that I think about it.  But I digress.  Judging by facial expression and body language, the tiefling assented to attend alongside Adryssa.    We then ventured to the Dawnbloom girl’s shop, as she designs and tailors attire through the use of fabrication magic--or so she explained to me.  The girl had requested that Savid and I showcase her newest line at the dance to spread awareness of her wizarding brand.  We, of course, assented.  Oh!  I do hope you enjoyed the dress I promised you from Lamruil Teth’Sol, on the subject of custom-made garments.  Please let Thalandril know if you’ve any trouble using my name on the order.  But no matter, I must admit that the child is rather talented; I’ll be sure to show you the gown she created next time I stop by the office.  If it does not drop your jaw, and at least Dellanor’s trousers, I will owe you dinner.  Agreed? But I am sure you’re much more concerned with Savid’s attire.  He always wears these fitted, leather pants that I am sure need no further description.  His shirt was partially sheer, resulting in more clothing than the enormous elf normally wears, seeing as his rule of thumb is typically to only don what I dare say is the same, singular pair of trousers.  The giant of an elf was disappointed that our garments did not match, but the Temerity woman wished to wear leather and so I, of course, could not.  After Adryssa created the appropriate accessories to accompany her work, we relocated to the brand’s atelier to ready ourselves for the evening.  You would giggle.  Savid spends more time at the mirror than I do.  I was forced to apply my make-up in a side mirror as he would not share the prominent dressing one. At the designated time, we met the remainder of the group at the location specified upon the invitations, information that Kasimir relayed to the little Dawnbloom girl through the use of their magical talents.  The venue was atop a looming tower, but built of stone and masonry.  It was so drab and lifeless compared to Evermeet’s living structures wrought of crystalline sharding and trees.  Rowhouses dotted the rooftop--and we knew not where to enter until Adryssa alerted the lot of us to an invisible doorman he managed to spy.  It was really rather fascinating, although the entity also was revealed to be a horned devil, so I was wise in remaining close to Savid’s side.  I gave my ticket to the dusk elf to offer up in my stead and the parchment sizzled to a crisp as it was proffered toward the empty space where it supposedly stood. I was confused as we filed through, one by one, into the foyer.  It was entirely empty--no patrons, no drinking, no music.  Nothing at all.  I think it was Savid who noticed it, but there seemed to be some sort of film over the far end of the hallway.  He stepped right into it without a second thought--and since our hands were entwined, the barbarian pulled me right along with him.  It was only after passing through that barrier that the area came to life.  Jhanys, it was like nothing I had ever seen.  The room was black but illuminated somehow; colors seemed to glow and were bright in a manner that I have never witnessed.  Attendees had bands of these glowing, bright-colored lights about their bodies and some brought around trays of little pebble-looking edibles.   Savid took one of the morsels, as did the pretty human.  Maybe he had two; I cannot recall.  Each became somewhat... intoxicated.  That is the closest I can describe their resulting behavior; it seemed as if they were enjoying themselves much more than they were only seconds prior.  Temerity and Adryssa began dancing, and so Savid drew me into the crowd along with them.  You know I can never pass up an opportunity to showcase my talents, and so I gave those gathered an exhibition of my many years of practice in the art.  For as large as he is and despite his condition, the dusk elf was rather nimble.  He managed to keep up with me and even could halfway engage in several of the movements native to Evermeet.  I was mildly impressed.   We whiled away the evening dancing, mostly.  The masses moved together to the music playing, almost as if they were flowers swaying in a breeze.  It was hypnotizing.  I think the scholar and paladin--along with the tiny one--went to investigate something during our frolicking.  I am unsure.  Perhaps they desired the more quiet seating upstairs.  Nevertheless, our festivities ended somewhat abruptly when a pair of those devil spawned creatures let their gazes linger on my person.  Apparently, Savid thought the duration too long and became defensive.  He confronted one, but it was more physical than verbal.  He just slapped the creature right across the face, knocking the tiefling to the ground.  It was certainly uncalled for.  Utterly so.  But I could not reason with Savid; he would not listen, despite my pleadings.   I finally goaded him back to Adryssa and Temerity, but the other sharply-dressed ndividual approached after several moments.  Just as I calmed the giant of an elf, as luck would have it.  Whatever he ingested was doing nothing to temper his emotions.  In fact, I am quite certain it exacerbated them.  The individual’s boss wished to see him, Savid translated.  The request set off numerous red flags, but the barbarian sauntered off all the same.  I accompanied him to hold the dusk elf in check, as did the pretty human.  We were led to the chambers of some two-headed beast, Jhanys.  Both heads spoke and it even wore a little jacket.  It wasn’t quite as big as the fire giant from that morning, but it looked surlier.  The brute asked to purchase me, which--as you can imagine--sent your sweet Savid right into another fit. Thank Hanali for the effectiveness of my spells that day.  Blowing a sweet scent to intoxicate the ettin, he no longer posed a threat and I summarily coaxed Savid from the place.  We had no business there, not with creatures of such a sort--and I wished for us to be free of conflict.  Such a concept was not in our immediate future, it seemed, as Savid--and I do apologize for the graphic nature of this, my friend--smashed the head of the remaining tiefling guard against the wall as we passed.  Without provocation.  I have never feared for my wellbeing more than at that moment.  Our fair city sees little violence, if any at all, and I have been privileged to lead a passive, carefree existence.  I was not prepared to watch a man die that day. After watching a creature’s snuff out like a sputtering flame, it was necessary to retreat and reflect on the situation I had put myself in.   I sat upstairs at one of the tables where some aristocrats seemed to be mingling.  Thalandril would be livid with me when he discovered the degree of danger I was immersed in.   The barkeep came over to assumedly offer a beverage, but we could not communicate, so he left.  Savid, of whom I was certainly tentative at this point, sat down with me, bringing two bottles of what I assumed to be wine.  He drank one as if it were naught but water, but he became sick soon into his drink and I was forced to cry out for Kasimir as the enormous elf became startlingly pale.  The paladin accompanied him and veritably saved Savid’s life.  You have Corellon to thank for your dusk elf, Jhanys.  Chelyse requested that I stay and watch him, as they were embroiled in trouble of their own, but Savid would not have it.  He said he could not protect me in his state and thus the paladin insisted that stay safely in her company.  I did not argue. Kasimir and Chelyse hefted the enormous elf’s weight between them and to another corridor, where the others were waiting amid a rather grisly scene.  Forms lay splayed upon the floor like morbid decoration--hooded and menacing, but unmoving.  Apparently there had been some sort of disagreement or fight.  I knew not.  And had no need or desire to know more than what I did.  A creature with the head of a serpent was bound nearby, an unsettling sight by all interpretations of the term.  I stayed near Savid, who had been sat within a plush armchair, as the adventuring party investigated the premises, which looked to me to be some sort of office.  They were not conversing in elvish, so I knew not of which they spoke.  But everyone looked stoic, intent in their current tasks.  I worried as to what we might have stumbled upon. Suddenly, Chelyse began speaking aloud in our tongue, communicating with Adryssa from what I could tell.  She and Temerity had been left downstairs during all the commotion and at some point, the club itself had detached from where we were currently.  Some sort of dimensional door, given that the youngest Dawnbloom reported being in an entirely different part of the city now.  The paladin instructed the pair to be careful and to meet us back at the guild hall.  The festivities were obviously over.  Someone slung the snakeman over a shoulder and we returned to the group’s home.  Thankfully, Adryssa and the devil girl were well, having been spared both confrontations.   They wished to continue their celebrations, a notion that I could not argue with as I required a rather stiff drink at this point.  But not before Adryssa pulled me aside and informed me that not only had she watched Ricatavio and myself make love previously, but that she somehow reported to Thalandril--through some ungodly means--the aforementioned liaison and was concerned that the eladrin and myself were plotting against Evermeet?   It was then I knew my fate was sealed.  Savid also moved over to interrupt her, apologizing for his violent outbursts, citing the influence of the substances he ingested.  I was so overcome with the Dawnbloom girl’s news that I couldn’t even afford much attention to the giant elf, nodding at him blankly.  It was only because she mentioned that you had expressed your regards that I knew Thalandril would not disown me as soon as I stepped back into Evermeet. We did go out on the town soon enough, to a smaller establishment that felt much like those taverns near the harbor.  Knowing it was my last night in Nexus, I did drink rather heavily, spending the last hours of the day dancing with Savid and even managing to get Kasimir on his feet.  It was a concerted effort, I shalln’t take all the credit.  Savid made for Chelyse, encouraging her to take the floor with him, whilst I plied my admittedly drunken wiles on the scholar.  He was amused, if only just so, and acquiesced to my insistence--but likely only because Chelyse had been swept up with the barbarian.  When the number was finished, Savid and I made use of the coat closet before being corralled home by the paladin, who apparently plays the part of mother hen for the group. I would be remiss to not mention that apparently the demon girl and Adryssa expressed their intent to bind.  The House Dawnbloom shall go up in a sea of flames should the Senator become aware of this ordeal, to be sure.  How the pair shall manage to successfully engage in such a union is both beyond me and none of my business.  Lineage is such a touchy subject with the nobles.  I left Savid in his room upon our return--as he was likely exhausted and still recovering from the day’s events--and went to secure any loose ends with Ricatavio.  It was perhaps 2 or 3 in the morning, but it was necessary to be sure of our arrangements lest I anger Thalandril additionally by being sloppy in my dealings. The eladrin answered the door in suited sleepwear decorated with tiny renditions of his saber-toothed cat.  Of course, my inebriated self was very much bemused by the sight.  It did not take long to review the parameters of our agreement, but it was a necessary step.  Such matters cannot be treated lightly.  As I was about to leave, Ricatavio casually mentioned that he wished to share my bed once more, citing the fact that we might as well given that I had woken him, but the great feline forbade as much.  Tickled that Mr. Kittums dictated Ricatavio’s partners, I ultimately did as I pleased if for no other reason than to spite the great cat.  ‘No’ is a word I hardly know the meaning of.  I was surprised, following our intimacy, to learn that the ranger preferred the company of men.  But apparently not when superior skills are in play, it would seem.   Having only a few hours until the conch-like craft arrived, the vehicle that was to carry me back to Evermeet, I wrote your dusk elf a quick note before gathering my things.  I probably should have bid him farewell in a more personable manner, but I had not the courage for it.  I was worried about Thalandril’s reaction, now that he was aware of my excursion, and was still somewhat uneasy around the enormous dusk elf.  My trip home was much less uneventful than the journey there.  I did not see the herd of centaur that had ferried me to the Fae Wilds’ guild hall initially, which was a disappointment.  They were such interesting companions; I should have liked to learn more about them. I hope you enjoyed the tale, my friend, although next time you wish for such a telling, you needn’t disguise it as a statement mandated by the agency.  I would be happy to tell you whatever you wished of my adventures, if you should just ask.  Even the torrid bits.  Especially the torrid bits.  If you’re reading this at the office, give Thalandril my love and I will not forget to include you on my next journey to Nexus, should such an endeavor occur.  I will most certainly put in a good word for you with Savid, I promise.