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choicesficwriterscreations · 7 months ago

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May Creator of the Month: Saibug1022

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is @saibug1022! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

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Salem, Sai, or saibug are all good! They/he pronouns

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started playing Choices in 2017-ish, I don’t remember what my first book was for sure but I remember the first book I played that really drew me in and got me into the app was The Elementalists.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I don’t think I really joined the fandom until…a few weeks after that mass cancellation announcement where they announced they’d cancelled It Lives 3, Elementalists 2, Nightbound 2, Hero 2, and RoD 2.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

Originally it was a mashup of my dead name and a sweet nickname from my childhood, so when I came out I just changed it to incorporate my new name instead :)

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

It was a repost of this screenshot and honestly I was right and should say it. Also this question taught me the archive feature existed so thank you that’ll come in handy lmao

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction! I am trying to learn and practice art so who knows what could happen in the future. Oh and I also do lots of edits :)

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

If we’re talking my true origins I actually started writing by writing Supernatural x reader fics in like 2017, but I didn’t start writing the fics I write now until Sanders Sides in 2019 and then I finally got around to Choices in about 2022 lmao. 7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My favorite book is probably ILITW which is probably obvious, but as for my favorite book to CREATE for that’s tied between It Lives Within and BOLAS.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

My first fic was for Nightbound, called The Wrong Engagement. I still like it overall but I think I’d definitely change some things. When I first started writing for Choices I was so so focused on trying to keep MC as vague as possible while still giving them some character, so the stories often came across as bland or even boring.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

My absolute favorite fic is actually something I don’t think I ever posted, but my favorite I’ve posted has probably gotta be a classic which is Val’s Resurrection. There are definitely some things I’d probably change now but it’s the longest fic I’ve written, still really holds up, and I’m really proud of the characterizations in it.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

Walls of Regret is probably my biggest fic ever and let me tell you when I posted and wrote it I did not expect it to do as well as it did but I’m so glad it did. I can definitely think of some fics I think people would really like that didn’t get much love, including pretty much everything from the Windverse, but I gotta say Let The Shadows Fall Behind You, which is a fic/scene from my personal ongoing project, a Hero and Endless Summer Crossover

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Angst, wholeheartedly, no hesitation. Angst is not only my talent but kind of what I’m known for. I actually kind of struggle to write fluff and ESPECIALLY smut. I’ve only done it a few times and it took days of me staring at the page for days and getting out maybe one sentence an hour.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Oh all of them. Every single MC has a little piece of me, whether it’s my experiences or my personality or my style or my interests or even the way I talk.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

With smut at least I get ideas. I struggle so much with even getting ideas for fluff. My favorite things is to dive into the emotions and pain and trauma PB dance around, and finding the beauty in the dark things. I defer to the other amazing writers on this app for the fluff and I consume their fluff fics like a drowning man

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Two things off the top of my head. My concept for a Hero sequel which includes an Endless Summer crossover. I mentioned that earlier. The second is something fondly called Into the Rowan-verse which was where my two ILW MCs, Castor and Julian, get stuck hopping through the multiverse and meeting a bunch of other people’s MCs.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

It highly depends on the person and then from there I think I’d just show them my edits or character profiles because my fics you tend to need either full contextual knowledge or at least basic knowledge of the book.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

Published writers definitely Rick Riordan, he’s seriously influenced how I use character voices. But from the fandom my biggest inspirations right now are usually @aces-and-angels and @oh-so-you’re-a-nerd

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

If I saw Into the Windverse does that count as cheating? But otherwise I’d die for my version of the It Lives Anthology (including ILW and Into the Rowanverse) to be made into a tv show with my headcanons, changes, and MCs.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do! I have an entire book trilogy fully plotted out that I’m working on writing, plus just writing a bunch with my own OCs.

19 - What other hobbies do you have?

Pretty much just OC related things tbh. I watch tv a lot and YouTube, I play video games sometimes, and I listen to music ALL the time

#cfwc creator of the month #creator of the month #choices fic writers creations #saibug1022 #playchoices #choices stories you play

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mistkisbiggestfan · 2 years ago

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Pidge x reader | White Lion - Part I |

A/N: Okay so this has parts of dialogue of "Dangerously Yours", it'll have a part 2, and btw my requests are open! Word count: 2k

You were not ready for failure of any kind. As a white paladin of Voltron your soul mission was to protect other paladins and people around you. A medic was what you were, a brute by nature and a pacifist by force, all you could do was save, even if you tried to charge into battle you were quickly pushed off – back to the sidelines. “Y/N! Get out of here! It’s not a place for a medic!” They yelled. Voltron was fine by itself, no medic was required, you were a so-called “Plan B”, you were useless, healing pods were more handy than a medic. Everyone neglected you, not as a friend of course, but as a valuable fighter and defender of the universe.

The only one treating you fairly was your love, Pidge. She actually appreciated any kind of help she got from you during and out of battle, that was, to your dismay, cut short. As war with Galra raged on, everyone forgot about any other struggles disregarding the threat across the universe. Soon, Pidge began to share the view about you with other paladins, bit by bit. – You should be more careful! – She said, but quickly, those words turned into. – Just stay out of this Y/N! We don’t have time to waste!

Waste? You thought. Waste? Is that what they see my effort as? A waste..? And like that, the overthinking pursued. No one even noticed you staying out of conversations, blindly following orders, no one noticed because it was making everything easier – Who would have thought that disregarding your feelings would be so convenient? Nobody, that’s why no one realized something was wrong.

And there you were, in the middle of the ashes of a once proud planet, now left dying and naked of its natural beauty and resources. While the other paladins were fighting a Galra ship, basically above, you were left to seek refugees and help them. People shied away, some openly running out of your sight. You left your weapons hidden, leaving only a red, cross marking on your armor standing out. You looked forward, a camp stood out of the dead surrounding, a medical camp. You quickened your pace, rushing into the tent.

– Hello? – Everyone sulking in silence suddenly looked up at you in horror, some closing their eyes, as if you were there to collect their soul and send it away from this world. – I saw the crosses on the tent, do you need help? I’m a medic and—-- You were cut off by a few people gasping at your confession. An old, wise looking alien granny rushed over to your side and guided you inside. – We’re glad you came here, indeed we are, but there’s no time! We need to act quick, please, help us. – She looked at you with hope in her eyes, the medical staff, consisting of three other aliens, gazed at you. You just nodded in agreement.

– Y/N? What’s happening there? – You heard the confused voice of Pidge on your intercom, you muted your mic and popped off your helmet, pushing it into the corner of the medical camp. – Alright, let’s get to work. – You said quietly, no one said a word, they just led you into the other part of the tent.

In the next hour you operated on at least four people, crushed, stabbed, or just dying in general. You sighed and washed off the sweat from your forehead, you turned to another patient but before that, a middle-aged woman grabbed you by your shoulders. – Please, god, save her. I can’t do it without her, please, you kind people are the only hope we have left. Not even Voltron is here to guard us. – She said breaking down in front of you. – Where were they when we were dying? – She asked, and like that she fell to her knees as one of the other people inside took her away from the place you were operating in. You looked at the girl in front of you, her life was in your hands now. She turned to you and whispered – Don’t blame yourself if I don’t make it, if I- I actually won’t wake up tomorrow, tell that girl that I will watch above her… – She closed her eyes as you ran to save her.

The battle outside died down, you were sitting under a dimly lit light with a cup of strange coffee in front of you. And like that your mind wandered off. Your helmet beeping obnoxiously.

Beep. Voltron just missed this place? While they were fighting in the sky, innocent people were dying on land. We could have stopped this, they could have stopped this. Beep. What kind of heroes are we if we can’t even save the people we’re fighting for? Beep. What’s the point in this? Today, I helped more people than I ever did in Voltron… Did they even notice I was gone? Beep. Lord, all of those people had families, lovers, children, lifes to come back to after the war. Beep. You looked up, the beeping seemed to be more frequent then before, you sighed annoyed and turned your intercoms on. You heard a few familiar voices echoing through the mic, your tired and beaten down gaze softened.

– Y/N? Y/N? Are you there? – You heard the soft voice of Pidge, you smiled for a second at the thought of her. – Ugh, Pidge, come for your food! – Lance shouted in the background.

– Um, sure, just let me make this one message and—--

– Pidge! Come on, you know how the Mx. Lone Medic Wolf acts like, they’ll be back, please, what’s the worst that could’ve happened? They were on land, no battles you know.

– I- I guess you’re right, I’m just a bit worried.

– Have you forgotten? They’re not a fighter, it’s not like they could be hurt doing a pointless check up on land.

– Yeah… It doesn’t sit right with me though, the whole “creating a pointless task to get Y/N out of battle” thing, you know?

The rest of the conversation was muffled, you couldn’t keep up with the words leaving their mouths, the sentence left you numb to your surroundings. You heard Pidge shuffle around, presumably standing up and getting out of her room to get food. You stood there frozen, shocked, sitting still and aimlessly staring at the dark abyss in front of you. You felt tears flowing down your face, but you made no noise. Everything was too loud and too quiet at once. You silently took off your helmet and put it in front of you, sitting in the dimly lit room, with cold coffee as your company. Is that what they think about me? You thought.

Suddenly, someone walked in, their feet shuffling on the floor, you didn’t move, still staring numbly forward. – A- am I interrupting something? – You heard the person say, it was one of the medical staff you worked with today. You stiffened and spoke up. – No, not at all, but I must ask, why are you here? – You grabbed your mug and relaxed into your chair, the person walked in and sat slightly on the table in the small room.

– I just wanted to thank you for today, many great people were saved because of you. – The seemingly way older woman told you. Your head dropped to the table as you hid your face with your palms. She looked at you, worried.

– But too many were lost, tell me, what was this effort for? What did I change? – You said, your voice cracking. She walked over to you and put her hand on your shoulder.

– You saved lifes. – She said.

– Did I? How sure can I be that they’re going to make it to see the daylight?

– You can’t be sure, all you can do is wait. – That left you speechless, not out of rudeness, just purely out of things to say. It seemed like all the words you could muster out were said, but then, she spoke up again.

– I’m sorry but I came here to ask you something… – She said quietly, you nodded for her to go on. – Are you, by any chance, part of team Voltron?

– I- I’m, yeah, yeah I’m part of Voltron… – You said, almost ashamed. But why? You thought.

– I saw your reaction to that young lady breaking down in front of you, and I wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t go hard on yourself. – She said, almost like an older sister giving you great advice.

– What are you trying to tell me..? – You almost cried out, looking at her with your bloodshot eyes, gazing at her through the gaps between your fingers.

– There’s really no way of winning this, you know. You can't fight woth yourself forever. – She said, taking her hand off your shoulder, bitterly smiling at you, with such sympathy you haven’t seen in a while. – Take your time, kid.

The door shut behind you, the ear-splitting silence was killing you, your breathing stopped for a second when you heard Pidge’s voice on the intercom. I didn’t turn off my mic.

– Y/N..? – You heard heartbroken Pidge on the other side of the mic. – Y/N please… I know you’re there.

– Have you heard everything? – You asked, feeling drops of sweat rolling down your back, awaiting for an answer.

– I- I did, and did you..? – She asked with hope that you didn’t, your answer crushed the little hope she had left.

– Yes, I did.

– Look, Y/N, I’m sorry, please just listen, I- can explain—-

– No! I can read you like a book now, you're not so wise after all.

– You don’t know what you’re saying Y/N!

– You never loved me did you? You knew that I loved you and you used that!

– Y/N please, just listen to me!

– No! I'm done, you saw me as an useless waste of space, didn't you? – The silence after your sentence was deafening. You sighed tiredly into the intercom. – You want my heart to constrict with agony? My hands to shake? You want me to plead for my place in Voltron, you want to hear me beg for a chance to be useless trash laying around again? You want that so you can make a generous gesture and spare me..? – Your tone shifted drastically. – Sorry Pidge, I don’t seem to be in a mood for prayers tonight. – You bitterly smiled to yourself.

– I used to think that I was a Paladin just like you all, but now, the mere thought of it makes me ashamed. I should wish you good luck, shouldn't I, huh? I guess, this is a goodbye, isn't it Pidge..? – You said sadly, sighing once again. You brought your hand up and rested it on the mute button. – I- No, I don't have anything else to say. Don't look for me, Voltron won't be us welcomed here as you wish it to be.

– Y/N just please, wait! —- The conversation ended. You took a sip of your cold coffee and closed your eyes to recollect yourself. You rested your head on your hands and cried quietly, sobbing stopped only after you passed out from exhaustion that finally caught up to you.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron x reader #voltron pidge #pidge gunderson #pidge holt #pidge x reader #pidge gunderson x reader #pidge holt x reader #voltron pidge x reader

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devildevotee · 7 months ago

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hello! we hope this is ok to ask, it's totally fine if you don't answer- but we've recently become interested in satanism and demon work, but we know exactly nothing about it or where to start. we did some basic research with academic sources like wikipedia but have no idea where to go from there. we're hesitant to just dive in on our own because we know there are a lot of bad sources and groups to avoid but don't actually know what those things are.

anyways, we trust your opinion and recommendations so we wanted to ask if you had any suggestions on how to go about researching and learning about theistic satanism for an absolute beginner! recommended books or articles, groups to avoid, red flags, anything like that would be very appreciated 💚 thank you so much!

okay so, this may be a controversial opinion but in my opinion (KEY WORD OPINION) you actually shouldn't only stick to unproblematic and valid uwu authors, because i'll be honest (in terms of satanism and demonolatry), there ARE no pure and good authors out there. every author out there, especially if you're reading a text from a long time ago, is going to have something you disagree with. you need to practice some form of critical engagement, additionally, because engaging with a text critically and understanding why it is wrong is way more important than just shutting out the information altogether. you will not learn anything if you pretend that problematic texts do not exist. i'm not saying this to be harsh, but there is a reason we research a variety of texts and perspectives in high school english class. you need to continue that kind of method when researching anything.

now that is covered, i'll tell you what i have read personally. taking the above into consideration, there are no authors here that don't have something deeply wrong about their texts. i did read their works, and i came to my own conclusions on whether i'm going to dub them an authority on satanism, and i suggest you do the same. satanism is about knowledge and drawing your own, unique conclusions. just make sure what you do adopt doesn't throw any groups of people under the bus, because we're not here to read books and thoughtlessly believe whatever the book says, especially when the book can have misinformation, or offensive content. this is very common in satanism; as much as people love to treat it like it's revolutionary and all-accepting, it can be just as, or even more, discriminatory or outright hateful as christianity, especially in the texts.

the most easy-to-find material:

ars goetia > pretty basic info, but very handy and simple to read

the infernal gospel > probably my favourite book on this list

the complete book of demonolatry > i don't agree with the author, but i got this one in my early days before i knew anything about said author. it's got some useful information, but there's a lot of misinfo

book of the fallen > useful rituals if i remember correctly, i sold this book so i can't recheck

at satan's altar > also an interesting book

the goetia devils > has a lot of what i assume is upg... seems to conflict with what i've seen from other practitioners

the goetic hymns > second favourite book

the satanic philosopher > i found this one hard to read personally

esoterica > youtube channel with amazing information on demonolatry and its history, i suggest getting into this before doing anything else.

all of these websites.

and lastly, i also got like 50+ older texts i got as a bundle off etsy that i can't remember the names of. i wish i could give them to you, but i genuinely have lost every single text i got in the bundle due to me changing computers. i suggest looking on etsy for similar bundles on satanism and demonolatry if you want to get into the historical meat of things.

that being said, my actual last thing i want to say is not to get too entrenched into the theory. the texts are handy, sure! but the one thing i have found the most useful is by engaging with the community. most of my wealth of knowledge did NOT come from texts or media, it came from those around me talking about their experiences. if you want to learn, and i mean REALLY learn about demons and satan, get into the community hardcore and you will learn something new every day. talk to people, make friends, don't do this alone.

edit: okay one more thing. this does go against what i was saying to some degree but i do have a limit to that logic. avoid joy of satan. they're n/eonazis and come on this website regularly. avoid them, avoid them, avoid them.

#bun talks #theistic satanism #demonolatry #satanism #i wanted to write more but i'm admittedly on a time crunch :(

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ritualofcirice · 3 months ago

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Lucifer's Response (Letter One, a Lucifer x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Thank you so much Sycamore, my darling, for editing this! THANK YOU ♡🐑

You sent a love letter to Lucifer, and he responded.

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Love Letters, Fluff, Awkwardness, Gift Giving, Emotional Baggage, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person

This one is gifted to @jalicecookie! Thank you for supporting the series, it means the world to me to see people enjoying these ♡

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 719

Chapter 1

Letter One

When you wrote a letter to royalty, you expected to be royally disappointed. The expectation was that you would not receive anything back. Yet there you were holding a velvet drawstring pouch threaded with Lucifer’s sigil in gold.

Gold became your expectation too. Not only did the golden thread lace every seam, but it crawled from the pouch where it sat in a plaited bow to keep it sealed. Within it, you found a rectangular box that shared the same exuberant golden colour. The lid was held over the top with lace and a thin line of ribbon.

After sliding off the lace and lifting the lid, you were greeted with a scroll of parchment. Another lace slip held it in place with a seal to top it off. Careful not to break the wax, you slotted your nail beneath it and lifted. With a crackle, it peeled away from the lace which you pulled off the parchment.

You placed it to one side as you wanted to keep it, then you returned your attention to the letter.

Keeping a rolled scroll of paper open was difficult without it rolling back up on itself, so you ended up placing it down on your desk. A paperweight came in handy in pinning down one end. You used your hand to smooth down the other as you read.

‘To my Secret Admirer, I got your letter! That is the only way I would know your address to return one back, of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t. And now you know that I’m not some creepy stalker. Great! I’m so glad we’ve gotten that out of the way. Letters - you know I haven't sent one in ages? Yours was such a pleasant surprise that I ended up searching everywhere in the house to find my old writing kit. I got really worked up about it, so please tell me if this is too much. Is it too much? Since there wasn’t an envelope, I had to make a pouch instead. I'm flattered though, truly. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this to you. I wanted to make sure I said the right thing because it has been so long since I spoke to anyone in Hell. Usually I would avoid that. As you can tell. You wouldn't have sent your letter otherwise. But I wanted to let you know that I'm okay. Thank you for reaching out to me even though you don't know me. Or maybe you do! Maybe I have seen you. Maybe we haven't seen each other for a long time. I mean - I doubt that. I can tell, actually. You're not who came to mind, and that's okay. You're a wonderfully unique you! Rough around the edges if you're in Hell, but you’re polished enough that I can see the shine through the dirt. I don’t mean to sound rude. There is a reason Hell hasn’t seen me. Trust me when I say the are far, far too many more as well. Although, it isn’t appropriate for me to discuss in a letter to someone I haven’t gotten to know yet. Rest assured, none of those reasons are you. Truth be told, I’d like to know more about you if you're willing to share with me. I’m happy to answer any of your questions too! I have a question for you to get us started! I am not ignoring the fact that your letter was more romantically inclined. I hope so anyway. Not because I would jump at the first sign of any affection, I'm just curious. How could you call yourself my secret admirer when you haven't met me? I know that goes back to well have we - haven't we, I don't know. But I do know I haven't met anyone new in a long time, and those I do know would not keep it a secret. Nor do I recognise your address. My judgment tells me this isn't some sort of hoax either because why else would anyone send an anonymous letter to someone to check on how they are unless they genuinely did care. What if I'm not who you think I am? Why would you trouble yourself for someone who doesn't even know who you are? Yours sincerely, Lucifer M.’

♡ Letter two ♡

#Ritual_Of_Cirice fanfiction #x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer (hazbin hotel)#lucifer (hazbin hotel) x reader #fanfiction

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infernothechaosgod · 1 year ago

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Answearing @becacomum's questions about "any moment now" (my leosagi fic)

I hope you don't mind me making a post about it I just thought it would be easier to read it that way Than through the comments

What will Usagi's personality be like? Will it be like his series?

I did base usagi's personality and some of his morals on how he acts in the comics however here it is still quite different

Here usagi was quite sheltered from people growing up, therefore he has trouble expressing higher emotions even when he wants to, so he comes off to people as very quiet, blunt and even mean at times, the stories of him kicking people's asses in random battles don't help his image

However, despite seeming like a hard to get along person, he isn't one, he's very respectful of those around him, he Tries (and fails) to complement people and if you'll point out to him that what he said might have came off as mean in any way he'll immediately apologize and explain what he actually meant

So beasicly, he seems like an edgy mysterious shady asshole to everyone but in reality he's just akward as fuck

Will usagi's friends show up?

No, Not really but They will be a lot of easter eggs to them (I tried to put them in but it just didn't go well with some plot points, which is a shame because there great characters and deserve more love, I'll definitely put em in some one shots i'm writing when i'm bored though)

Will donnie be jealous of leo?

He's more worried for him than anything, he does not like usagi but it's less of jealousy thing and more of a protectiveness thing

I mean everywhere you go you'll hear a rumor about usagi, or a story of him absolutely wiping the floor with someone then disappearing and not talking to anyone

Then suddenly that guy starts talking with leo out of everyone, his (slightly stupid) dear brother that has abilities that could make him a target of bad people, and said brother doesn't even mention him and usagi are hanging out, they find out in a different way that I won't tell cuz it's a spoiler

Who wouldn't be worried?

But there is still some jealousy in donnie it's just in the background most of the time and not donnies main priority

Who will fall first?

Usagi, pretty hard too

Where will the story take place?

It will be mostly happening at the hidden city and new york However Usagi's previous place(s) of staying will be mentioned

Also I would like to point out Neo edo is a place made for Yuichi's series

This will be a bit confusing but the usagi I'm talking about is not Yuichi usagi, it's miyamoto usagi, they have quite different personalities and stories and I just thought that miyamoto usagi's fits a bit better both with my take (especially since it's based of comics) and leo's and his dynamic

Thank you so much for your questions, I hope I didn't give any confusing answers ^ ^

(Also I don't mind questions in the comments, but I would prefer for the them to go into the inbox, it would just be a bit more handy that way)

#rottmnt leosagi #rise leosagi #leosagi #rise usagi #rottmnt usagi #Leosagi #In fact not leoichi #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt fanfiction #Rottmnt fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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sercezgazety · 10 months ago

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The time is just after ten p.m., a bit early to be done with the dinner already, but it was nothing fancy, and the restaurant was awfully loud. They both agreed that there was no point getting dessert when there were much more fun ways of spending the evening.

The place: the interior of Dan’s car, somewhere in the middle of the road between Arkham and Dunwich where Lana lives. She said the commute was not that long, though that was back when they were laughing, and the table was hiding the foot she had on Dan’s lap. Now, the drive seems unbearably long, and Dan grinds his teeth in order not to swear out loud. That certainly wouldn’t improve the situation.

Lana is sitting next to him, tight-lipped and sweating. A minute or so ago, Dan tried to tell a joke. Before he got to the punchline, she gave a shrill, terrified laugh that told him beyond any doubt the evening was not salvageable. So. No stopping by at her place. It would be really weird if it were any other way, to be honest. It’s a miracle Lana still hasn’t pepper-sprayed him the moment she noticed the blood stains.

How did Dan miss them, anyway? He was cleaning the upholstery just yesterday, specifically for the occasion, and he could have sworn he didn’t miss a spot. They must have sprung into existence overnight, unless.

Unless Herbert put something in the car, and then took it out before Dan came back. And yeah, now that he tries to discreetly glance at the door, there are claw marks next to the latch. Lana, judging by the way she’s clutching her purse, has already noticed them.

Dan told him he cleaned the car specifically because he was going out that night. He couldn’t just store whatever body part that was — probably something with fingernails, but in case of Herbert’s experiments, that doesn’t necessarily mean it was a hand. Couldn’t store it somewhere else just this once, could he. What a dick.

Dan decides to break the silence again by offering Lana some chewing gum. He really shouldn’t have done so because the moment he opens the glove compartment, he finds an ear in there. An honest to God, entire human ear, concha and all. It has piercings in it.

What a perfect place to store an ear. Easy to reach when the need for a severed body part arises. Very handy.

He smashes the compartment closed immediately, and he thinks Lana didn’t get a look, but that’s mostly because she’s not screaming. She just stares ahead, an unnaturally polite smile plastered on her face.

“I think—I think, uh. That’s where I jump off,” she tells him the very second they pass the sign saying they’ve entered Dunwich. Some lights are shining in the distance, but they’re pretty far away. On both sides of the road, there’s nothing but empty fields.

“You sure?” Dan tries, even though he knows he shouldn’t. “Seems like an awful long walk. You said you lived near the center, right?”

Calling a town like Dunwich something with a center is generous. So is calling it a town. But there sure is a difference between the part that has buildings and people in it, and the absolute middle of nowhere. There’s a hill a bit to the right, and there are some weird shapes on it. Dan remembers someone at Miskatonic telling him about those. Standing stones or something like that, probably pretty interesting when you’re into this sort of thing. But also creepy as shit, especially when it’s dark.

He still doesn’t stop the car. He feels terrible about this, but he’s not going to let Lana walk all the way to town in the middle of the night and in this kind of shoes. Granted, she’s terrified now, but it’s not like she’s facing any real danger. If he lets her into the night, she might be.

“Yeah,” she says, and she’s doing a poor job at hiding the tremor in her voice. “But I have a friend nearby, and can you believe it? I forgot I promised her I’d drop by tonight!”

Dan can’t believe it, but he’s not an asshole, so he just nods. The buildings are closer now, and in a minute, they are going to be somewhere that might actually have electric light.

“Okay, I can drop you off by her house,” he offers gallantly because he has no idea what else to say without actively acknowledging that the inside of his car looks like a murder scene. Then, he bares his teeth in the most reassuring smile he can muster.

“No!” Lana shrieks, and they both cringe at that. “No,” she repeats, this time much quieter, and then gives some sort of a bark that was probably supposed to be laughter. “That’s alright, really. You’ve already wasted enough time, you know. I can walk from here.”

The nearest building is a couple yards away. Dan would prefer to drive for a moment longer, just to make sure no one drags Lana into the darkness, screaming, but she’s already unbuckled her seatbelt. He stops with a heavy sigh, aware that if he didn’t, she might jump out of the moving vehicle.

She doesn’t say goodbye, just opens the door and leaves, the purse all but forgotten on the car seat. She doesn’t break into a sprint either, not right away at least. Dan thinks he saw her take off her shoes as he turned the car around and headed back to Arkham.

So now the time is a quarter to midnight. The place: Dan’s room, but only physically. Mentally, he’s somewhere else, not entirely certain where, but it sure as hell doesn’t smell of stale coffee and sheets he hasn’t changed in weeks. It’s this weird amalgam of numerous bedrooms he’s seen, or maybe a motel room, the details are hazy. It’s not like they’re important. The important thing is the body writhing underneath Dan’s as his hand speeds up, the large breasts that bounce nicely, a mouth that pants and cries out, legs that are long, slender, and wrapped around his waist. The facial features of his partner shift from one nurse to another, and there are some models and one really pretty patient of Dan’s thrown into the mix. No Lana, though. He’d feel way too guilty about it afterwards.

He bites into his cheek to keep the noises down. There’s a sharp knock, and before he can answer, Herbert is already pushing the door open, leaving Dan just enough time to curl up and bring the blanket to his chin.

“Fridge went out,” he informs Dan without any preamble. “The kidneys are of no use.”

“What— what kidneys?” Dan sputters before the proper indignation sets in. “And haven’t you heard of knocking?”

Herbert visibly frowns at that. “I knocked.”

“But didn’t wait for an answer!”

“Hm,” is all the apology Dan gets. Herbert is still standing in the doorway, squinting in Dan’s general direction, but it’s not going to take much longer for his eyes to accommodate to the dimness of the room. “Either way, we need to get an auxiliary generator. We can’t continue losing perfectly good tissue like that.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dan grunts. “Tomorrow.”

Herbert just keeps standing there. Hovering.

“Well, obviously. Everything’s closed. It’s the middle of the night, Dan.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. His dick gives a frustrating twitch instead of just going flaccid, and he would probably be asking himself what is wrong with him, were he not too busy wondering about what is wrong with his roommate. “Obviously.”

The infernal little man gives a curt nod, his head outlined by the light seeping in from the hallway. It doesn’t seem like he plans on leaving.

“Is that all?” Dan asks through gritted teeth.

Herbert, instead of taking a cue like any normal person would, takes two hesitant steps inside. “You’re home early,” he observes, and yeah, no shit. As if that wasn’t on him. “You said you’d be back in the morning.”

What else can Dan do but shrug, his hands still buried underneath the blanket. At this point, it would be just weird to take them out.

“I take it the date didn’t go well.” There’s not a hint of question in Herbert’s voice.

“Didn’t work out.”

“Odd,” he decides to comment instead of leaving. “She seemed your type.” He pauses, making a show of tapping a finger to his chin, trying to come up with anything to say about Lana. He settles on, “Had boobs.”

“Yeah, and I had a fucking human ear in the glove compartment,” Dan snaps back. “Care to explain how it landed itself there?”

“I haven’t got the faintest idea.”

Herbert is fidgeting, but sounds innocent. He never sounds innocent, unless he’s really trying to, and if he has to try, then, well…

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you.”

Herbert cocks his head to the side and carefully schools his features into confusion. “Did what on purpose?”

“Sabotage me like that! Cockblock, interfere, ruin the date, whatever you want to call it. You did it on purpose! Again!” Dan’s hands must have gotten free since he’s apparently waving them around in agitation. Thank God, the blanket remains where it was. “Do you get some sick pleasure out of it? Or do you just want me miserable so that you have someone to talk to?”

He should have seen it coming, but the click of the light switch still takes him by surprise. He blinks rapidly, and this way, Herbert, who was in a better-lit room just a minute ago, gets the upper hand. Well. Even more of it.

“Where is this coming from?” he asks, the very image of wounded innocence. Then, something shifts in his face, and for a second, it looks like he really is alarmed. “Dan, are you alright?” he asks, suddenly uncomfortably close. He does tend to pop up in unexpected places like a cat would. “You have a fever?”

Dan bats the hand away before Herbert manages to put it on his forehead. He was supposed to be feeling angry, not ashamed of himself.

It doesn’t stop Herbert from crouching down and staring into his face. They’re making eye contact. That’s what they’re doing now, that’s how the evening is apparently going.

“You’re flushed. Sweaty,” the man observes. “Your breathing’s labored. I’m not letting you near the lab in that state, you’re a walking health hazard. Are you experiencing any soreness? Did you contract something from that doxy?”

“Good, I wasn’t going to the la— wait, doxy? Seriously? What next, strumpet? Harlot?”

Herbert’s mouth forms a thin, bloodless line. “You’re right,” he agrees without even acknowledging what Dan actually said. “The incubation period is much longer, this must be something else. So what about the muscle soreness? Headache? Sore throat? Nausea?”

Dan can only shake his head, torn between screaming and bursting out with hysterical laughter, though granted, there is some nausea involved. When Herbert tries to take his pulse, he manages to wrangle his wrist away. From this close, he can see a speck of blood on his roommate’s cuff.

“I’m fine, Herbert.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“No, seriously.” The blush should have receded due to the mortification, and yet, Dan can feel it getting worse. At least he’s been able to get his breathing under control. “I’m fine.”

Herbert ignores him completely, fumbling through the pockets in order to produce a pen light, apparently intending to flash it right into Dan’s eyes.

“Herbert!”

Dan didn’t mean to shout, he really didn’t, but at least it gets the job done. West stops trying to pry his left eye open.

“Look. I’m fine. I’m not sick.” Dan gulps, unsure how to phrase it. “It’s all… natural. I just, uh. Need a couple more minutes to myself.”

Herbert freezes. He’d probably take a step back, had he not been crouching, but if Dan expected West to blush, he’d be disappointed. “Ah,” he just says, his face perfectly blank.

continue reading about Herbert making everything horribly awkward, and about Dan suffering in his very own personal hell here. there are puns! there are body parts!

#danbert #re-animator #reanimator #herbert west #dan cain #daniel cain #re animator #babe wake up it's my birthday go give it a pity read #the fic not the birthday I mean #fanfic

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thegeminisage · 7 months ago

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STAR TREK UPDATE TIME!!! thursday we watched tng's "emergence" and ds9's "crossover" (honorific)

emergence (tng):

I HATE HOLODECK EPISODES. i wanted season 7 to go out on a high note. nostalgia and time would have made me forget so many of tng's sins if it had gone out on a high note

girl, the enterprise CAME TO LIFE, had a baby, and then died, and nobody had anything to say about that except "ok let the baby fly into space hope it has a good life!"

the enterprise and moya from farscape could have raised their children together communally. like feral cats.

if kirk had been captain when the enterprise came to life he would NOT have let that baby fly into space. he would have gotten one of those little toddler leashes. he would have paid child support. he's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up

i honestly don't remember what else happened here because the following episode blew my tits clean off

oh yeah wait i think it was racist to make worf shovel the coal. shame on them. data's way stronger than worf he should have been doing it he would have been like yay i love a novel experience :) i can add this to my file on coal shoveling :)

crossover (ds9):

WORLD'S LONGEST YEAH BOY

no, i'm just going to abandon my bullet points. where do i even begin...you know, actually, let's begin at the beginning, which is the tos mirrorverse episode. i have a wider meta on this in me somewhre i bet but it wasn't always this way! i like, initially watched this, went, "huh! that was neat," and thought no more about it until i read a fanfic (don't ask for it i'm not telling, it was more like 2-3 fanfics honestly) and then i was like WAIT HOLD ON A SECOND. see, my fascination with mirrorverse comes primarily from the following hypothesis:

everyone always says that bones in mirrorverse and bones in the prime universe are the same guy and that makes him god's specialest princess, which i don't disagree with! but i think, deep down, EVERYONE is the same. i think mirrorverse (quite accidentally) provides a pretty compelling commentary on both nature vs nurture and the cycle of violence. kirk, who undoubtedly went to a much worse version of tarsus iv in the mirrorverse, becomes a guy slaughtering colonists by the thousands, because in his mind that's what power looks like and being powerful means being safe. spock, who is brought up to believe violence is logical instead of pacifism, follows that doctrine just as strictly as he sticks to his morals in the prime universe, and indulges in his emotions just as rarely, because in either case he is punished just as much, if not more, for going against vulcan and human social norms.

put the same guys in the opposite situation (ie a mirror) and they will turn out as their own twisted reflections every time. mirror kirk is just as driven to succeed, just at a different game. he has just as much of a temper, but without the apologies that come afterward. he's just and dangerous and as handy in a fight as prime kirk, but without the moral compass that has him pulling punches instead of a knife. he has that same desire for power, though it's to protect himself rather than to protect other people. mirror spock is just as sharp and calculating, he's just running different numbers, after different results. he's just as good at sussing out emotional motives because of his forced distance from them, but he has spent a lifetime being rewarded for exploiting the emotions of others instead of trying to understand them. he even shares the same preference for being the first officer instead of in command, though the two spocks have differing reasons for this. you could even argue that he has the same capacity for loyalty, inasmuch as it's safe or possible to be loyal in the mirrorverse; he avoids trying to kill kirk as much as he possibly can, and when he finds out "his" kirk is gone, immediately does everything in his power to see to getting him back where he belongs. the mirror characters aren't opposites; they're reflections, inversions. they started out as the same base thing. they were made ugly and evil by their circumstances.

we didn't get to see much of mirror kirk and none of mirror bones (to my eternal woe), but knowing mirror spock DID ultimately take action towards pacifism and reform is extremely damning evidence for this hypothesis, at least in my mind palace. our own spock is defined by his compassion and selflessness; he gave his life in the warp core because the needs of the many outweighed his own needs. mirror spock is running the calculation in the other direction; he is thinking of his own needs. yet he comes to the SAME CONCLUSION - it is important for people to be safe, because logically nothing else can hold.

i notice that they carefully avoided saying whether or not spock ACTUALLY killed kirk, and i love that, because i loved the open-ended nature of the original mirrorverse episode - i loved that we could imagine anything happening. kirk dying or becoming a better person or becoming a worse person. i'm a little sad to have finally lost that, but i love that we can still just as gleefully imagine spock shoving a pole through kirk's ribs (in the horny way) or them being little rebels with bones and fighting the system together. ooooh and you better BELIEVE i had to pause the episode and cover my face and take a moment to have my hysterics when they implied mirror spock may have killed mirror kirk bc our kirk asking mirror spock to kill his other self was one of the horniest things tos ever did, up there with amok time and that stupid bondage harness.

speaking of horny, let's get into the actual episode. this episode was so abjectly fucking horny it's ASTOUNDING. it's mind-blowing. i think lesbian kira-on-kira was ABSOLUTELY the way to go as far as introductions. and kira-on-kira PROVES MY HYPOTHESIS!!! mirror kira has the same sympathy for her human laborers (the downtrodden), just not extended further than she extends sympathy for herself. she is also, like our kira, into girls. AND she is seduced by the idea of giving power to a weak bajor. kira's love affair with herself was probably the best part of this episode, number one because women and number two because they understood each other SO well except mirror kira was just unstable enough to be scary. and kira being like a little scared of her and them still being gay was really problematic and horny of them. fun. god. like, BATH SCENE?? HELLO??? i hope nana visitor had the time of her fucking life

mirror garak is also basically the same guy. this is just pre-exile garak. he's so conniving and gay. he didn't even do any of that seductive shit to our kira. why? he's not into girls!

i'm so sorry odo and quark didn't get a better lot in this verse. they don't come back either i checked :( odo was kind of boring, unfortunately, except for3 points: firstly, him slapping julian like 3 times was also problematic but horny. secondly, the goop he exploded into. rip king. (and kira moruning him!! otp.) thirdly, this is odo's disdain and lack of understanding for humanity (humanoidanity?) multiplied by 1000x. this is not an odo who was forced to get to know us and saw that some of us needed the protection he had to live without and now had the power to give, this is an odo who was experimented on and probably killed dr mora on his way out of the facility, and is looking to dish some out instead of take it. FUN. our odo makes hands to touch people with. this odo makes hands to slap people with. rip to that guy and i was absolutely shocked that a do-no-harm DOCTOR killed him but honestly there's probably a net good in that for our julian.

quark running the metaphorical underground railroad out here also seems to echo him selling food to bajorans...also, his, outfit? it made him look like a good person. it's a wonder it took them so long to catch him. our quark is selfish because he sees it as a path to a good life. their quark is selfLESS for the same reason, see? also SCREAM that our kira was like yes we're BESTIES on the other side when she often tells him how much she despises him lmao

o'brien!!! god i wish we had seen more of him but i LOVED him and julian being besties here too. he was like youre NOT my friend and then 20 minutes later helping him escape. it's like he was a sleeper agent, he got one whiff or someone who could afford to have a moral compass and instantly he was like actually yeah humans deserve better than this! i love that julian was just gonna take him back and have two obrien besties and fuck starfleet if they didn't like it lol. obrien secretly also the same, and i'm really glad he got to at least escape w sisko to become a pirate or whatever.

HEY. BY THE WAY. PIRATE SISKO. SO FUN AND EDGY. he was really unhinged and kind of like a lunatic. cw for discussion of rape the rest of this paragraph. so i think there was a light implication via his body language and also "you charmed your way out of the mines" that he was NOT enjoying/consenting to the sex he was having with mirror kira, but very much enjoyed the opportunity to menace her counterpart, and other people, like obrien. again, like odo, he is tired of taking it and itching to dish soem out. UNLIKE odo, we see that he has people he loves! he says "i made the best of a bad life for my crew" and even shakes his head at one of his crew members who is about to do something that will get them hurt - he's also happy enough to take obrien, former target, under his wing on the way out, when he sees something worthy there. JUST LIKE OUR SISKO, he IS protective and he DOES value his people! i loved seeing that core of him, even though his outside was deranged in a fun evil way.

ok, to finally wrap this up, bashir giving away his plate of mush at mealtime because he's gonna get to go back to a nice cozy universe soon (or die) and these people won't is soooo. god. he's SO COMPASSIONATE......like i knew that objectively but we haven't really seen it in action much up until now. it fucking kills me. his compassion, inherent Good Universe vibes, has such a profound impact on mirror obrien in such a short time, but ultimately you CAN'T change this universe. you can affect single people in it, the way kirk got mirror spock, but the point of the mirrorverse is to be evil and edgy (and horny), so no matter WHAT the characters in it do, it is a LAW OF THAT UNIVERSE that powers beyond their comprehension will always reset the status quo to STAY evil and edgy (and horny). like at first i was like oh shit kirk really stepped in it nice job breaking it hero but like it simply CAN'T be fixed. if you try, you will fail. determinism in star trek. wild.

also, wait, sorry, julian coming back filthy head to toe and kira coming back in a ballgown when our sisko has been having kittens trying to locate his people.....iconic. mister privileged having to process ore like kira used to do and kira former ore processor wearing a fancy luxurious evening gown. talk about swapping places.

TONIGHT: tng's "preemptive strike" and ds9's "the collaborator." last non-finale episode of tng!!!

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #ds9 lb #one of these days i'll write a real mirrorverse meta #i miss 2021 when i was writing thousands of words of s*pernatural meta daily #would that i could do that for star trek. oh to be a professor once again etc etc

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thatdehydratedmedic · 2 months ago

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A new beginning

It's September. After many rough winds, the dust has settled. June, July and August brought with them uncertainty, but here I am now. I am now in Malaysia. There's only a few days left before registration. Although I'm scared, I'm also relieved. So much has been done and I am one step closer to my goal.

During my first week here, my dad stayed with me in Malaysia at a separate hotel. He helped shop for necessities and I helped him pick out gifts for the rest of our family. It was quite the hassle. I remember people telling me that moving to Malaysia would be easy because everyone speaks English. I've found this to be a lie. Most people, in fact, do not speak English. In this era though, it is not a boundary we cannot cross. Google translate came in handy. I remember hosting a Japanese kid at out place before. This was ages ago, before the age of Google Translate. She could not speak English and relied on a tablet-sized device for her translations. It was not easy.

The most difficult part so far has been adjusting to how quiet the place is in general. Since I'm staying at a 2 room apartment and my roommate has still not moved in, its so so so quiet. It gives me the creeps. That's why I've come downstairs to the lobby to write. There is absolutely no way I could stay in my room any longer before I go insane.

I also find that the food here is very different. With all due respect to Malaysian culture, I have found that the food is pretty oily and the taste profile is worlds apart from what I'm used to. There is a sharp, almost citrus-y note in almost everything. Although I imagine someone else might enjoy it, I can't say I do. I miss the plain rice, garudhiya and curry. Even more than that, I miss the mas'huni and roshi.

I've written a lot about how things have been in Malaysia. But I also want to talk about how work was back in Maldives. I met so many patients who made me want to keep pursuing medicine. While there were definitely instances where patients behaved aggressively towards me, I can't blame them or even bring myself to be upset at them. Their pain and frustration was the result of a bigger issue with the healthcare industry as whole. Moments of helplessness gave me increased motivation.

Of course there was also the times where I could be helpful. Moments like these were much more common and naturally, I remember them a lot more fondly. My favorite interaction with a patient was when they requested me to translate for them on their second visit after being satisfied with my service on their first. They had come back after about 4 months. When they first took my name on a small piece of paper I did not think much of it, but I realized how much I had impacted them when they asked for me after so many months. It was a greater joy to see that they were doing much better than before.

During my time working, I met many great doctors as well. Among them, some more than others. In this regard the neurosurgeon was exceptional. He was an example of kindness, patience and diligence. I had gone into work thinking I would like to become a doctor who did not have to spend so much time in the hospital. I thought I would prefer to be someone with a good work-llife balance. After working with the said doctor though, I changed my mind. I believed I would much prefer the busy life.

That's all I have to say for now. That and that I cannot wait for uni to start. I am so excited to make anki cards and revise them. Watch me take those words back when school actually begins. I also need to note I am no longer sleep deprived. I am still dehydrated though, perhaps more than before. See you next time!

#studyspo #medical student #medstudent #studyblr #studyblr community #study blog #maldives #dark academia #maldivian student #study #realistic studyblr #realistic medblr

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merchantarthurn · 1 month ago

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a lot can and has been said about miraculous and where it fails but truly i can only ever praise the writing choices behind marinette when it comes to the genuine emotional depth she has. i will be rambling. also about late season/new special spoilers cos goddamn

it's fun to be irreverent about this show because... well it's a fun kids show - it's irreverent about itself, just without the irony poisoning that often comes with that these days. but some of mlb's highs are... honestly so high... i'm feeling a lot about my girl this handy 4am so here's a ramble

with this new special im reminded again at the fantastic way marinette has been built up over the seasons and how her greatest strengths are simultaneously her flaws and that she's... complicated and messy in a way that captures how it feels to be a 14 yr old girl honestly. she IS a normal girl with a normal life in the sense that no, she isn't, but maybe you are or you will be in a few years and maybe it'll feel like this actually.

the way marinette tackles responsibilities when she has to be secretive is genuinely such an interesting and refreshing take for any piece of media let alone one that's aimed at kids!! the way that the flaws that come out in those moments are very heavily shown to not make her a bad person!! that the narrative sympathises with the way she fails. argh!!

like... honestly Gang Of Secrets (S4) showed it show clearly and im so happy to see it come up again (even if it pains me cos get her outta there!!!). defensiveness, anger, hyper independence, control. pushing away her support network because her civilian friends cannot know her secrets and that's basically like not being able to help, and eliminating them from her life means less variables to control for when she's planning how to keep paris safe. how much fear is behind her anger, how much desperation is clear in all aspects of production (did i mention the voice cast of this show actually is insane sometimes?? my god) and like... fuck me man she might have pulled herself out of the "maybe i should just be ladybug all the time, what's the point of being marinette right now" spiral pretty fast but that... hit something that felt really close to real, scary feelings i'll admit i think it came close to triggering me when I first saw it. and that was a weighty secret but there was at least an escape to it - ladybug pretty openly has secrets that most people respect, marinette cannot openly have that secret or it's as good as over.

then this fucking... season 5 finale and special... oh my god the escalation. and yet it's so. IN CHARACTER. control what people know, tell as few people as possible, defend your initial instincts. and now ladybug is part of the lie. she's lied to both her civilian boyfriend and the public and if at any point that slips... it's not just her who gets hurt! literally the worst case scenario: what she feared happens ten-fold to adrien because she lied about it and it doesn't even need to go public.

i've definitely seen people frustrated that she lied but fuckkk man she's 14. what happened in that basement triumph, realisation that there was no good way this would end, betrayal with an olive branch in hand, watching a person die (I do not care if he sucked as a father and tenfold with the secret stuff he was up to - relationships with abusive parents are not that simple and it was always going to be devastating to adrien and frankly good on mlb for keeping that door open as a potential thing to explore. also marinette is 14 and watching someone DIE), and having someone's last verbal wish be "please don't tell my son about this". i mean goddamn. at my ripe age of nearly 30 can say i'm not sure what i would have done with that.

i've already had several rants aloud about this and multiple zone outs so im going to cut myself off before i go... bonkers but... my god what an emotionally interesting place for season 6 to jump off of

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rowanaelinn · 2 years ago

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Right Where You Left Me - Chapter Two

Warnings: lots of bad words | Word Count: 5,000

Aelin threw the brown file on Ansel’s desk, startling her from whatever she was doing on the multiple computer screens she was staring at. She had long ago given up on trying to understand the miracles Ansel did thanks to the internet. It was too complicated for Aelin, too out of her range. Just like Ansel would be lost if she had to step in Aelin’s shoes for a moment.

“Find me everything you can about this woman, all the dirt you can find, I want it.”

“For when?” The red-haired woman asked, opening the file and her brows furrowing. “We have a new client?”

“Just me,” Aelin answered. “Private matter. And I want the results for tomorrow.”

Aelin’s friend nodded and turned to her computer, “You’ll get everything on your desk in an hour.”

A smile pulled up Aelin’s lips as she left Ansel’s office. People often thought—rightfully—that Aelin was cocky. And yet sometimes, she was crushed under the realization that some people were cockier than she was. Ansel being the prime example of that. Aelin’s mind often wished to turn it into a competition. But she had to remind herself that she was an adult now. Living in the adult world, with a fucking husband and fucking kids that depended on her.

“Where were you?” Elide asked, cocking her head to the side as she entered Aelin’s office less than two seconds after Aelin did.

“Lunch break.”

The brunette snorted, “I have never seen you take a lunch break before, and somehow, you’re starting now? And you left a meeting for what, a salad?”

Aelin sat deeper in her very comfortable chair. That was a good investment she made, truly. She cocked her head to the side, “Have I missed the memo about you becoming my boss?”

Elide’s eyes darkened, and she sat in front of Aelin with only the wooden desk separating them. “Keep the bullshit for the others who didn’t grow up with you. You didn’t leave for lunch, you had that look in your eyes when you left. Tell me what’s up.”

Irritated, Aelin looked to the side. Elide had known her for years, that was true. Ever since they were five, actually. And maybe it did make her legitimate to know when something’s up. “I have a private client.”

“Who?”

“The Glass House.”

There was a silence for a few seconds, and then Elide asked, “Are you dumping us? To go back to work for Whitethorn?”

“No,” Aelin snapped. “I don’t work for anyone. I’m simply doing my uncle a favor.”

Her friend eyed her for a few seconds, and then deemed her explanation good enough. “Alright. Good, your talents were wasted there. You’re better making a name of yourself.”

Aelin knew that, even if that wasn’t the reason she left. But people believed her so shallow, thought they knew her when they had no idea who she truly was, that they all believed her when she gave them that excuse. Only one hadn’t bought it.

---

“Why I am here already?” Fenrys asked, trailing beside her as they walked through the park. They were moving too quickly to seem like tourists, and she was sure that the sound of Aelin’s stilettos was enough to tell people this wasn’t a leisure walk. She should have changed shoes, walking on the little path designed for runners and walkers wasn’t comfortable in her shoes, especially because of the hundreds of tiny little stones all over the goddamn floor. If she didn’t trip, it was a miracle.

“I need someone to testify for me in case this little thing gets further than I wish it to,” she sighed. She didn’t think it would, but she had to be cautious. Even if she was good, excellent even, at anticipating how people would react, it wasn’t a science. She could never be sure.

Her friend was grinning beside her. Sometimes, he scared her. She’d never asked too many questions about what he saw when he served in the military, how war had affected him. Sometimes, his… tendencies came in handy. She never asked him to act on those, sometimes she rather he didn’t. But sometimes he broke his… abstinence and acted in a way that always worked in her favor.

She shook her head away from that train of thought. He’d ask her to turn her head away when we’d have to use his… talents to help her in her work. She did, even knowing how illegal these things were. Because, if she had to be honest, Aelin wasn’t a sticker for the rules. And the thought of seeing her friend in prison… She couldn’t. So, she turned a blind eye.

Aelin caught sight of her target then, and she prepared herself. She wasn’t fond of what she’d have to do, but if it was her one option to save him and his reputation, she wasn’t going to hesitate. She threw a look at Fenrys, and he nodded in understanding.

He pulled back a little but stayed close enough to listen as Aelin sat on the bench, beside Remelle Rosin. She was head buried in her phone, checking something Aelin couldn’t see. She was beautiful, and there was something ethereal about her. And yet, something felt off. Cold.

“I love these shoes,” Aelin started the conversation, slightly leaning closer to the blonde. “They’re from Feyre Archeron’s latest collection, aren’t they?”

Remelle turned an appreciative eye on Aelin, and she cocked her head to the side. “You know your thing.”

Aelin nodded, “I’m so jealous. I wanted a pair, but they were sold out the moment the shop’s doors opened.” That was a lie. Actually, Aelin had secured more than four pairs. Three in different colors, and then one lavender pair for Hayley’s birthday. But Aelin wanted Remelle to feel valued.

It was hard to keep her eyes from rolling as the pale woman said, “Oh, don’t be too sad! They wouldn’t suit your figure.”

Alright. Yes, on paper, she was President Whitethorn’s type. But after this… Aelin’s trust in his claim that nothing had ever happened strengthened. “I think you’re right,” she smiled. “But if you want a piece of my opinion as well, they wouldn’t look good on TV, either.”

Remelle’s shoulders straightened, and she threw a look of mistrust to both Aelin and Fenrys. “What do you want?”

“Why, simply giving each other friendly pieces of advice,” Aelin cocked her head to the side, her smile turning sweeter.

Aelin could see the woman’s guard built up. But the truth was, even with all the flattery in the world, Aelin couldn’t be the good guy there. She’d only used it as a way to build connection.

“Has he sent you?”

“Nobody sent me,” she lied. “I’m only looking out for you, Remelle. Things out there are dangerous, they really are. Whatever you think going public will achieve, you are wrong.”

Remelle huffed a laugh. “You know nothing.”

Aelin didn’t care about the jab. “It’s my job to know this. At worse, the media will call you a liar. They’ll use the three years you’ve worked in a private club against you. At best? You’ll get called a whore who was stupid enough to open her legs for a married man. You’ll never be the people’s friend, the one they’ll look up to. You will be the woman who is a distraction to their problem. Because if the Glass House is busy denying these claims you make, it’s needed resources that aren’t actively working for the welfare of the people. You think they will love that?”

Remelle’s hands were shaking as she told Aelin, “I’m promised a book deal.”

“Alright,” Aelin shrugged. “You’ll get some money, then what? You settle in, and your kids become the joke of the school because of what you did?” Aelin shook her head. “No, you’re not stupid, Mrs. Rosin. You can get your money in a much quieter, safer way.”

“I thought you weren’t working for him.”

“I’m not. I’m merely making sure you know all of your options. You can… retire somewhere in another state. I’ve heard Terrasen is terribly beautiful in the summer. You can have a stable, nice and enjoyable life. Or you take the risk. You become the media’s pet, their slut. You become the enemy of the Glass House and believe me when I say that nobody will have the courage to back you up and put themselves against the executive power, especially when you have no proof.”

No, because if she did, she would have already gone public, or the President would already have been asked for money. No, what Remelle had been doing these past few weeks was merely building herself a support system. People who would back her claims up. But that wasn’t enough.

“They won’t love you, Remelle. Seek this love with someone else, because you’ll be nothing for the audience. You’ll be more of a Camilla than a Diana, because you weren’t the wronged woman. You’re the one in the wrong.”

Her bottle lip was trembling as she looked at Aelin, silver lining in her eyes. “When have you sold your soul to the devil?”

Aelin’s smile was small as she responded, “A long time ago.”

“I want to see him.”

“You won’t,” Aelin answered, her voice firm. No, of course she wouldn’t. If anyone saw her, if she recorded the conversation… That would only give power to her claims. But, Aelin had to point out the effort. The woman truly wasn’t stupid.

She also knew her own candidate wouldn’t back her up. Not when Dorian Havillard had been selected Vice-President, even with his differences of opinions with the current president. It was a privilege for him to be where he was, and Aelin knew him enough to know he wouldn’t ruin that for an assistant.

“I want seven million,” Remelle said, tears clouding her voice.

“You’ll get three,” Aelin said, and at Remelle’s offended eyes, she added, “Which is more than generous for claims made with nothing to back them up.”

“Five.”

If she lowered so much, it only proved that she had nothing.

“Four, it is,” Aelin said, not in the mood to go lower. Her uncle had given her the permission to go as high as ten million, but the woman didn’t need to know that. Not when she claimed to have touched him, to have tasted him.

It wasn’t something she was proud of, but maybe the personal aspect of it all made it easier to sit beside this woman and throw these threats and insults at her.

“I’ll see you in Hell, Aelin Westfall.”

Aelin stood, grabbing her bag at the same time. She smiled at Remelle, “It’s Galathynius, actually. And it’ll be my pleasure.” She handed a card to Remelle. “We’ll stay in touch, for further… advice.”

She left, Fenrys on her heels. He blew up some air, “That was something, Aelin.”

She shrugged, “That was just my job.”

Aelin rushed through the two wooden doors of her house, slamming them close in a hurry. She took her shoes off, throwing her back to the floor. She was late. Goddamn her. Couldn’t she have found an excuse to not go to this stupid gala? If it was only her, she would have cancelled last minute. But… It was already bad etiquette that Chaol hadn’t been invited before yesterday. He couldn’t miss this. It would only hurt his image.

“Mom!” Hayley, Aelin’s teenage daughter, called from the kitchen. Aelin rushed to that room, finding her three kids gathered there. Hayley was dressed, as usual, in her dark clothes. It was that moment of her teenage years when she was obsessed with black. Black clothes, black make-up, black bedsheets. Aelin had stopped her before she painted her bedroom walls black. Asper was in his pyjama, sitting around the kitchen island and nose buried into his phone. He only looked up to grin at her.

She didn’t take it personally. Instead, she had fun ruffling his hair before leaning in to kiss Helia’s forehead. At two years old, she changed every day, and got prettier day by day. Aelin went to embrace Hayley, but the teenager made a very sweet and loving gagging noise. Instead, she told her what she was in such a hurry to say. “Asper put coffee in his hot chocolate.”

Aelin’s nose wrinkled. She was usually supportive of her kids’ strange meals, but she had to admit. That one sounded… not good. “You do realize that defies the whole purpose of hot chocolate, right?”

“Which is?” He asked with sass.

“It’s to be the to-go drink for people who don’t drink coffee!” Hayley nearly screamed. She could get passionate sometimes.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I just need my caffeine.”

Hayley made another disgusted noise, and threw at his face a banana peel. Aelin said nothing, that one was quite deserved. “Don’t speak about my panties!”

“Just drink coffee then,” Aelin said.

“I don’t like coffee,” he said, as if it was obvious.

“Then just take fucking vitamins,” Hayley supplied. Next to her sitting in her highchair, Helia was babbling something. She knew how to speak well, at least as well as a two-years-old could speak. But when her siblings argued, it was like the little girl wanted to participate as well.

Aelin nearly told off her daughter about her swearing, but… It’d be hypocritical. Aelin’s mouth was foul.

“Coffee is healthier,” Asper said, his eyes rolling and then looked back at his phone. Aelin cringed, and Hayley made a noise of anger.

“Please, mom. Tell me he isn’t really my twin, tell me you found him in the trash.”

“You’re the trash,” he supplied.

Aelin cringe. As distracting as watching two teenagers fight was, she knew it was her moment to deescalate the thing. “You two have your father nose and my eyes, sorry but being trash isn’t part of our family motto.”

Hayley rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of your father, where is he?” She prayed he wasn’t home yet, or she’d never hear the end of it. He hated when she was late.

“Upstairs,” Hayley answered. “Complaining because you’re late.”

“Shit,” she swore, grabbing a glass of water. Tough luck for her. “Will you be okay on your own tonight? And for Helia too? I can stay home if you don’t feel like it.”

Hayley, again, rolled her eyes. “No. We’ll be fine. But, can I come? Please, please, please. I haven’t seen Willow in so long, and—”

“I’m not even sure Willow will be there, Hayley, and we only got two invitations.”

She sighed. “As if Rowan would say anything if you brought me over.”

Aelin cringed. He’d told her kids to use his first name when he met them a couple of years ago, and they had no shame to brag about being on a first name basis with the President.

“No, Hayley. Text Willow, and if she wants to come over one day, it’s alright. But I’m not taking you to a playdate at a work event.”

As Aelin got upstairs she was sure her daughter was using colorful names to describe her, but it was okay.

When they met during the campaign, Willow and Hayley got along immediately. And suddenly, Hayley visited Aelin more and more at work, asked to go on campaign related trips. It’d always been complicated for Hayley to make friends, so much that Aelin and Hayley’s father yielded to their daughter’s insistence to homeschool her a few years ago. She struggled to make friends, but it seemed easy for her to be friend with Willow.

Aelin couldn’t even complain. Willow Whitethorn was an amazing friend to her daughter, but for personal reasons, Aelin disliked everything that linked her family to the Whitethorn’s.

Again, she was very hypocritical, but at the very least she was self-aware.

The two teenage girls didn’t see each other often, and last Aelin had heard from Hayley, Willow got her phone taken as a punition for sneaking out. Hence Hayley’s insistence to join her parents to the gala.

She rushed upstairs, already unbuttoning her shirt. “I know, I know,” she said, entering the master bedroom. “I’m late.”

“Where were you?” Chaol’s voice came from the bathroom, and he came out with his hands trying to knot his tie around his neck.

“Work,” she answered, though she believed it was pretty obvious. Where else would she have been?

She didn’t ask him questions, only got herself ready in the silence of their room.

---

The place was… beautiful. Stars shone in her eyes as she looked around, waiting in line with Chaol’s hand on her back to greet the President and the first lady. The entire place’s decoration perfectly fit the theme White & Gold. Golden chandeliers hoovered over them; the waiters dressed in entirely full white suits. Only these two colors were showing in the room, except for the men. It was dull, really, how they were always dressed in black and white. But she had to admit, it suited some of them more than she cared to admit.

And as usual, Aelin attracted attention. She hadn’t thought about it too much when she picked the golden, ankle-length silk gown. She had to admit, the deep, naked back was rather audacious. But as everything, Aelin pulled it off. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, reaching her midback. But, she had let free two strands of her hair in the front, framing her face.

She hadn’t realized that… no other woman had decided on a fully golden gown. Some women wore dresses that perfectly married both colors, and sometimes one of the colors was only one part of their garment.

“See? We’re not that late,” Aelin said. Sure, the party had started but the presential couple were still greeting people, and Aelin and Chaol weren’t the last in line.

Chaol grunted, and she huffed a laugh. That was all the laughing she did in this marriage these past few years, ever since she found out. But she didn’t wish to think of that. She was over it.

“Senator Westfall, Aelin,” Lyria greeted them with a smile. “You look radiant tonight.”

“Thank you, Lyria,” Aelin smiled, hugging the woman. The gesture made her sick, but wasn’t it required between two friends. On the side, Chaol shook President Whitethorn’s hand. “You look very beautiful yourself.” Indeed, Lyria’s white dress with golden flowers embroiled on it was beautiful. And much more modest than Aelin’s. What a way to make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe she should have chosen another gown.

In turn, Chaol greeted Lyria as Aelin stood in front of him. His eyes were untelling, and she hopes hers were as well. “Mr. President.”

“Aelin,” he greeted her, grabbing her hand. She felt electricity run through her spine at the way his fingers felt against hers, and she nearly shuddered at the heat of the contact as he kissed the back of her hand. She mastered the rise and fall of her chest, even with the way her heart turned wild. “You do look beautiful.”

She blushed, though if anyone asked, she’d blame that physical reaction on the heat. “Thank you, Sir. You cleaned up nicely as well.”

He chuckled, his hand lingering against her a few more seconds before her hand fell to her side, purposeless without him near her.

“Enjoy your evening,” Lyria smiled at them, before Chaol’s hand made its way back to her back and led her into the room.

There were a lot of people. Nearly all senators were present, as well as a lot of journalists. Members of the President’s party, as well as the Vice president and his own circle there. Aelin noted the absence of Remelle Rosin. Good girl. She was better away from the president.

“I need champagne,” she breathed, and Chaol heard her. He made a sign with his hand, raising his fainter finger, and a waiter walked toward them. Her husband grabbed them two glasses of champagne, handing one to Aelin. “Stay right here,” she told the young waiter. He mustn’t be more than seventeen. She wondered how anxious and impressed he was. She drank her first glass of champagne in one go, ending up a tiny bit breathless. They did call it liquid courage. She winked at the boy and placed the empty glass on his plate and grabbed a full glass. “Thank you.”

He blushed and left, and she could feel Chaol’s burning glare on her skin. “Yes?”

“Do you wish to humiliate me?”

She cocked her head to the side, taking a sip of her drink. “I do wonder how my own chosen actions could affect someone else.” At his lack of answer, she clicked her tongue. “Breathe, your dear wife was just thirsty.”

He rolled his eyes but made no comment. He’d often made remarks about her consumption of alcohol which was too high for him. But he believed it was improper for everyone to drink, so she ignored all jabs.

“Is there anyone here you have to woo?” She asked. At the end of the day, that was what politics was. And she knew that as a newly elected senator, her husband still had to build his own little army. He was intelligent, and she was sure he’d do so easily. But everything played at even such as this one.

“Mostly Dorian Havillard Senior and Antoine Perrington.”

She cocked her head to the side, eyebrow furrowed in confusion. “Republicans.”

“Which I am as well.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “But you’re a republican, and they’re republicans.”

“They wish to see change in the party, and I’m ready to hear them out.”

“What kind of change? They have a running president from their own party, whose are not bad.”

He shrugged. “As you said, they’re republicans. He’s not.”

She shook her head. “It is madness to think either of them would be elected. They have been in this game for far too long, have made far too many mistakes. They’re too known as what a majority of Doranelle doesn’t wish to see.”

“Especially the reason why they wish for a new face.”

“You,” she breathed. “You cannot mean that. The President is your friend.”

He threw her an amused look. “Aelin, you’re a genius, and you know enough about this world to know friendship doesn’t matter.”

Of course, she knew enough. She had taught him everything, she had gotten him elected.

He leaned in, placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “And I’m hoping for my wife’s aid in this new project. We all know you’re the reason behind the latest election.”

Was he truly asking her such thing? To get him elected?

“I do not share these men’s values.”

He huffed a laugh. “You’re apolitical at best. You do not share Whitethorn’s values either, and yet you backed him up.”

“Because Rowan’s values do not mean he wishes for me and my daughters to have no importance other than being a wife,” she snapped, though not loudly.

“There is nothing wrong with wishing for a traditional family, and I agree with you. Their ideas aren’t the best. But it’s my chance, Aelin. My chance to be more than Senator.”

Was senator not enough? Was he truly wishing for the Glass House? This is a fight that you will not fight at my side, Chaol.”

He shook his head, “We’ll talk about it more at home, alright? Here is not the place.”

“Senator Westfall,” Lyria, on the arm of the president smiled. “How good to see you, we didn’t have to chance to meet since your election. Again, congratulation.”

He smiled brightly at her, “Thank you, Lyria. We must dine one evening.”

“Oh, for sure! We’ll have Elain set up a day that fits you.”

“How does Adarlan fares?” The president asks.

“Good, Sir, thank you for asking.”

A song started playing in the background, and Lyria’s smile brightened. “Oh! I do love this song. Would you do me the honor, Senator Westfall?” She asked, holding her hand to him.

He grabbed it, smiling at the woman. “It’d be my pleasure.” He kissed Aelin’s cheek and left, dancing with the first lady onto the slow song.

Rowan was still in front of her, and she tried her best to ignore him. Those glasses were very pretty, though Aelin’s was too empty. Maybe she needed a third one. She had three kids after all, third was her own magic number.

“Aelin,” he breathed.

And even if there was no power in his voice, she still felt compelled to look at him. His eyes were hopeful, and he held his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

And she couldn’t refuse. She slid her palm into his, and he led her onto the dancefloor.

Her breath hitched as his hand found her naked back, his other hand still holding hers. And the way his hold felt on her, it was as if he would never let go. They started swinging slowing onto the beat of the dance. “You look magnificent tonight,” he breathed, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I cannot take my eyes away from you.”

And as she looked up, she was nearly chocked by the heat in his eyes. “Don’t look at me that way.”

He smiled, her heartbeat quickening.

“Stop,” she breathed. “Your wife is seven feet from us.”

He threw a look to the side, where she knew they were. “She looks busy laughing with your husband.”

Aelin tried to look away, but it was as if he was a magnet. She couldn’t. “Stop, somebody is going to see you.”

“Nobody is paying attention.”

“Someone always pays attention to you,” she answered. “You’re the President.”

“Do you pay attention to me? When you’re in that office, at the other side of town?”

A smile pulled at her lips. “You have hundreds of people working for you. You have no need for my attention.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

He made her twirl, nota allowing her to process what he’d just say. She needed to find something, anything, that would distract her from the way his hand felt on her back. She yearned to feel his fingers on every inch of her skin, eliciting the most private of noises of her.

“Be careful,” she said, a little breathless. “Not your whole party is on your side.”

His eyebrow furrowed, but his steps didn’t falter. “What do you mean?”

She swallowed, hating herself for it. She was betraying her husband. Differences or not, he should have her loyalty. But in truth, she wanted Rowan to know. Not only because she worked her ass off to have him elected, but because… Because she couldn’t keep such a thing from him.

“Havillard Senior and Perrington are talking to… potential candidates for the primaries in two years.”

Something in his jaw twitched, and he asked, “Do you think Dorian knows of this?”

Dorian, Havillard Senior’s son, was Rowan’s vice president. The fact that Rowan asked for her advice… It made her feel valuable. “We can never know. But he’s made a point to stay away from his father’s politics and ideas. I’d say, don’t think of him as an enemy too quickly.”

“If they don’t pick Dorian as a candidate, then who?”

Aelin adverted her eyes away from him, and they were close enough that she felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. “That husband of yours is getting rather annoying,” he said, his voice dropping an octave lower. “Though I suppose backstabbing me isn’t the worst thing he’s done.”

“Stop it,” she breathed.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“And I don’t like it.”

She snorted, “Tough luck, big guy.”

He laughed, and the noise warmed her all over. “Thank you. For telling me.”

“Yes, well,” she sighed. “I didn’t work that hard for you to only complete one term. I expect a reelection in three years, Mr. President.”

He chuckled, “If it’s all I can do for the lady.”

“Well,” she sighed. “You could give your daughter her phone back, so my own daughter stops harassing me to take her to the glass house.”

His eyes shone in amusement. She lost herself in the green of those irises. “Well, why should I? It’ll just give you a reason to visit to me more.”

She was going to answer something snarky when her uncle arrived by their side, kissing her cheek and leaning in to speak into Rowan’s ear. She saw his brow furrowed, and she knew he’d leave the party right away. Those were the duties of a leader, she supposed.

“Sorry for cutting in,” her uncle apologized again, and she waved him off.

“I need to leave,” Rowan warned her, regret showing in his eyes. She wondered what troubled him so much. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she answered, mourning his touch as his hand felt her back and let go of her palm. But he leaned in to kiss her cheek and whispered into her ear, “Come visit me in my office before this party ends, I’ll be waiting for you.”

And he felt, leaving her on the dancefloor. She shook her head and left, grabbing another glass of champagne on her way. She had no idea of what to do, and regretted that everything in her told her to leave and join him, to see what he wished to tell her about.

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows s // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn // @psychopath-at-heart // @ginnyweasley06 // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowan and aelin #right where you left me

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lucindaspartnerrealandtrue · 7 months ago

Text

This post was supposed to be made months ago. But. I may or may not have forgotten.

I do not know how this happened. Where this idea came from. But it happened. And now it exists. And I am sorry for how incoherent in may be at times, I really tried to articulate this post as much as I could. Yeah, so, basically, when Aph and the boys meet him for the first time our man's a pirate.

He didn't want to become a pirate, he always wished to become a guard, but after the incident, he didn't really have the possibility. Well. Actually. Let's take it from the start(<- using it as an excuse to rant about Dante in general.)

His main backstory remained kind of the same so feel free to skip a bit ahead until you see pink. Also just the heads up, cw for a slight mention of decapitation and minor(?) character death.

When he was little, he used to hang around his brother a LOT. Gene was his role model and everything he wished to become, after all. And why wouldn't he? His brother was great! Gene kind of had to take care of Dante because well. Their mother could do only so much as a single parent who had to work a LOT.

They weren't the wealthiest, so when he somehow gained the post of head guard(quite early in his life, quite suspicious, but not impossible) in Boboros, it really came in handy. Yeah, well, we all know this didn't last too long as Dante found out about Gene's plans regarding the Lord's daughter and ended up telling the guards, leading to Gene getting executed through decapitation.

Now.

After erasing everyone's memories of Dante,(and also murdering the Lord and his daughter) leaving the kid completely alone, Gene left for the Nether, as we know.

Dante tried to remain in the village at first. Because where could he possibly go? He was like. 10-11-ish at the time and quite literally didn't know anyone who could help him that wouldn't have been his mother or brother. And neither of them were an option anymore as it seems! The villagers weren't mean to him. They just didn't know who he was. And so assumed he was just an orphan. Somehow, that was even more cruel to him. Because all these people he knew, including his own MOTHER, just...didn't acknowledge the fact they've known him ever since he was a baby quite frankly(as it was a small village- so imagine everyone kind of knew everyone), and once cared for him.

Eventually, he made the decision to leave Boboros, as it seemed to be the best option for him, as there was nothing left here.

Maybe he'd end up somewhere in Bright Port, i'm thinking, and hang around the merchants that would come and go in, obviously, the port. He'd help around where he can, and in exchange, he'd get food/gold. Eventually, he ended up getting picked up by some nice people who gave him a place to stay and meals in exchange for him cleaning the ship sometimes!!

Yeah, those guys were pirates. It took him a bit to realise that, though. They didn't really fit the image he had in his head about them, you know? But again, he did hear of stories about them through Gene, and he was kind of second doubting everything that man ever told him at this point.

The idea of becoming a guard kind of died down to him, but the wish to help people did not.

I think as he got older, he did join the crew. As an. Actual pirate. Which yeah. Obviously. Pirate Dante!

His crew ended up on the frozen sea of Ru'an, the ship getting stuck in the ice. So they were forced to find a way to solve it while on foot. And then they got captured by the Eastern Wolf Tribe. And from there, again, it kind of happens what it happened in the canon. Dante manages to save Donna and gets her to the Southern Wolf Tribe.

And he decides to go back with Aphmau to save Logan, and also his crew.

They end up in Malachi's Castle, he meets Garroth and Laurance too eventually. I don't think they'd trust him too much at first.

They get imprisoned together. And I suppose they do get talking a bit, him and the boys while Aphmau is out transformed as a werewolf.

Andddd then he sticks around a bit too much because he ends up wanting to help them with the whole Pikoro missing lord situation.

He just wanted to be helpful!

The moment when Aphmau asks him if he'd like to come back with them, as a guard, takes place a few weeks later, perhaps even months(2 of them). Because no way this whole think took only a few days.

I think it would make more logic to ask him after MONTHS then DAYS if he wants to come with em. And he'd still have the same answer of course, which is that he'd think about it. Because, at the same time he wouldn't want to abandon the ship, but at the same time he's felt home with these three, even after still a very short period of time. He doesn't feel like abandoning what has been his home for like. A bit over 10 years for three people he just met but...

Okay. Okay. There is a whole arc that is very. Not completed in my head over here. And it takes a few more months in which. They bond. Ok? I'm not sure who i'm trying to convince over here. And after that, he does return with them three. Well. Four. Nicole's there, too!

The only moment that I have in my mind for this kind of completely non canon arc is Laurance realising that Dante is younger than him. He full heartily believed Dante was older. Perhaps the same age as Garroth? But definitely not younger than them.

And he comes back to Phoenix Drops. Not as a guard, though! That wasn't his intention. But he did get in that armour to help them with the war. And he did remain in it for 15 years.

Because he kind of felt like it was the least he could do for these people who offered him a home, a new stable one. And it was to protect them. Protect his new village and the people he loved. And, of course, wait for the ones who were stuck in the Irene dimension. Wait for Aphmau! Wait for Garroth! Wait for Laurance!

Look, the ship was cool and all but. To him!! It doesn't compare with an actual home in a safe place(like he had when he was young).

A few other concepts I have for this is that maybe Dante DID say that he was out of the guard academy at first and that he was a new guard because he thought that like that he'd be more trustworthy?

Nonetheless to say Aphmau didn't care about that, not before she found out and not afterwards. She was just slightly confused of why he felt the need to lie.

Laurance would make comments about how he doesn't have proper weapons, like in canon, or how he fights very differently. But things wouldn't really start making sense until later.

Garroth figured him out quite fast but didn't see it fit to say anything as they were kind of in the middle of something more important.

Also I think the idea of both Dante AND Laurance mentioning a man named Gene who just happened to be a shadow Knight but neither of them realise it's the same guy for a while a bit funny in a tragic way?

This idea is very silly to me in a /pos and I am not entirely sure WHAT I will do with it but here it is.

I think that's kind of all that I have to say at the moment? If anyone wants to add anything, feel free to do so.

Maybe I'll draw him soon...

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choirstaidhiona · 1 year ago

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This Barbie Cries In Public, or I Wish I Could Show My Mum The Barbie Movie

Like everyone else in the world, I recently saw the Barbie Movie! I also saw Oppenheimer, in the cursed double bill of the century, and it's taken me days to process both of them and all the BigFeelingsTM That have come up from both, so in my first actual considered and proper blog post on this website since I was the world's angriest teenager, I'll be sharing them, alongside some thoughts about grief and gender and all that really fun and not miserable at all stuff.

Part 1. Barbie Girl

I was born in 1996, a weirdly large baby constantly dressed in pink and lace and frills, as my mum would say, "a proper girl". I loved dolls; baby dolls, Barbie dolls, Bratz dolls, doll house dolls, paper garland dolls I made whenever i had a sheet of printer paper handy for years of my life, Polly Pockets, those weird off-brand dolls you'd get in corner shops and chemists for some reason, all of them. I loved dolls. I still love dolls. I made a film last year where i painted dolls and animated them and it was sad and about childhood and death and memory. I used to film my Barbie Princess and The Pauper dolls singing together and I made a music video of it on my Karaoke machine, rigged up to my pink TV. I was, in short, A Barbie Girl.

When Bratz appeared in the supermarkets of Greenock, I remember the shift happening really clearly. I was in Primary 5 or 6 and my Grandad had died, Baby's First Big Death, and I drew everyone pictures of the outfits I'd dreamed up for my Bratz dolls, transfixed by their big mouths and big eyes and the way their clothes sat on their bodies. Drawing pictures for people made them happy. Drawing pictures for people made them tell me I was clever. Drawing pictures for people gave me a task and gave me a focus. I loved Bratz dolls because Barbie was too boring. I was getting too old for fairies and princesses (note: I have since regressed), Mattel's fixation of the era, since Barbie had already been a Doctor and a President long before I met her, and I didn't know she had all these cool talents and past careers. To me, she was part of a personal era I was moving on from. Bratz dolls didn't have jobs, they were like Ken from the Barbie movie, but their job wasn't Beach, it was Gorgeous. I don't think it's a coincidence that this was the era I'd been told specifically that there was something wrong with me by other girls for the first time.

I grew up in Gàidhlig Medium Education, a sectioned-off and sheltered part of the Scottish Education System that I owe my life to, I would not have survived, weirdness and spirit intact, in any other school, and I know that for a fact. I'd entered GME at 2 and 10 months old and left school at 18, having only known classrooms where everyone was a bit different because we belonged to this sort of movement of cultural reclamation. My only prolonged interactions with "The English" (the rest of our classmates from the English speaking part of our primary school, the ones not in the Gaelic unit) came at the end of primary school, when we started learning French together as a whole year group. It's not an exaggeration to say that GME kids were bullied appallingly by "The English", including a lot of the old-school teachers. I'll go into this properly another time, but I do think that I saw in Bratz the kind of aspirational teenhood I hoped would be beyond my late primary school experience of being othered- being edgy, wearing cool outfits, having boobs, and most of all, working at gorgeous.

Part 2. Oppenheimer Teen

Think of the most catastrophically annoying and angry kid you knew growing up, that was me. And I lived here, on Tumblr, blogging my early teens away - being not like other girls, then being radicalised by third wave feminism. Learning about queerness, and realising I wasn't just the best ally of life, I actually fancied by best friend. Discovering that the square root of happiness was hunger, (i mean this ironically, it's very much not) and documenting my ever growing thigh gap... all of it. I wanted to tear everything down. I gave this section the title of Oppenheimer Teen because I thought it would be funny, but honestly, I was more like the atomic bomb.

I'd long since been informed that playing with dolls wasn't okay anymore, it was embarrassing and for babies, and the only femininity I was happy to take part in was a half-understood Kinderwhore version of it. Everything i embodied in this era was based on Courtney Love's babydoll dresses, red lips, and bleached hair. The first time I bleached mine, it broke my mum's heart. She had breast cancer and was losing her shiny brown hair, while I was turning mine into custard-coloured chewing gum with 40 vol at the bathroom sink. I didn't want to be pretty because I didn't know how to be without being ridiculed for trying, I was hurt, and I was scared, and my mum was sick and my boyfriend was evil, and Jesus, I was so hungry all the time. Eventually, after about two years of starting fights I couldn't finish, and drinking 70cls of straight vodka while looking men (teenage boys) in the eye, and reading the communist manifesto on the 6am Gourock train home after parties I'm still processing in therapy, my mum got the all-clear. I dumped the boy who was abusing me, who by this time was a grown man, I dyed my hair pink, and green, and blue... and I met the first of the girls who would start to save my life, while we were drawing pictures and dressing up at art camp.

3. Actually Talking About The Barbie Movie

Every year that I haven't been a teenager has been better than the one before, this is something I've told every teenage girl who has ever told me she's worried about growing up, and I've seen a wave of calm wash over her face every time. I really saw myself in the angry, clever, moody group of teenagers Barbie meets in the school canteen when she arrives in our world. Sasha, who I think we've all realised/read by now was named for the Bratz doll along with her friends, tells her she doesn't represent her, she's let her down, she's old news!! This was how pink and sparkly girlishness felt to me at that age, I didn't look like Barbie anymore, and the girls who did were making my life hell. I had acne, and my period lasted three weeks at a time, and being a girl wasn't fun anymore. Everyone just cared about which Ken they were getting off with, meanwhile I'd just realised that death existed, and one day would come back and finish the job and take my mum away, what the fuck was Barbie fucking grinning about?

Her spiralling existential crisis throughout the film was truly jarring, only because I remember those exact moments of girlhood. I remember being 11, lying on the floor and crying and feeling like it would never stop. I remember being 8 and noticing my belly was rounder than the other girls at ballet. I remember sweating after a game of rounders at 10 and realising I stank and feeling like I was malfunctioning. I remember being so angry for a whole year when I was 9 that I wanted to bite people. I remember every time I wasn't being a "proper girl", and how I saw on everyone's face that they felt it too. I remember every time I realised that I wasn't perfect anymore, just like Barbie does, and that I just wasn't the way I was made anymore. And they still feel like fresh wounds, fresh failures, despite what 2012 Tumblr feminism taught me.

I've seen Tiktoks from the current generation of internet teens discussing how the film wasn't radical enough in its feminism, and I get it, to an extent. When you've been an Oppenheimer Teen - fighting boys about how they treat their girlfriends that you're secretly a bit in love with, spending your whole life placing your value in your intelligence and your rage so as not to be someone's Barbie, making online friends all over the world because no one gets you, reading feminist lit while your classmates are excited about YA Fiction - Gloria's monologue, the climax of the film's mission statement, feels like "okay, and??" And as I said, I was Sasha, eviscerating femininity for what it had done to me. But as I grow up, not a (Barbie) Girl, not yet at all a woman (I'm non binary, knowing that is vital to understanding that joke), but also no longer an Oppenheimer Teen, I see the spaces that the powerful, vengeful feminism of my youth is missing.

Every time my friends are mistreated by men who are supposed to love them, there is a beat before they remember who they are where they think they deserve it. We constantly wonder if we're over reacting to our own trauma. We lose weight through grief and are told we look great and we say thank you, and sometimes we mean it. We fear taking up space even though we can't help it. We wonder if we should go for jobs that we aren't technically qualified for, even though we have degrees and years of experience to contradict our gut feelings of inadequacy. We are clever, bright, talented people, but those of us who have a girlhood in our pasts have a unique never-quite-healed injury. It's like a broken ankle from falling off a trampoline when you were 10 that aches in cold weather even now, the ankle you always go over when you're drunk in heels. I didn't know I'd grow up and get less angry. I didn't know I'd pick my battles eventually like everyone kept telling me to at 15, instead of waging war on everyone. I didn't know there would be a day that life would figure out how to make me small. I thought I had shut up the Barbie Girl I once was by outsmarting her, but my heart is still baby pink, strawberry scented, and covered in sparkles, and it always will be.

When i sat there, bathed in pink light, surrounded by mums and daughters, best friends, sisters, queers who never got to be Barbie Girls but desperately wanted to be, grannies, and aunties, and tiny girls who have no idea how much their hearts are about to be broken, I held my friend Isla's hand and i kissed it and wiped tears off my cheeks, because we were all there, together, in the middle of the afternoon on a Monday, living not in a Barbie world, but the real one. The really shit one. And the biggest cinematic event of our lives was telling us we were right, and it wasn't our fault, and we didn't make it all up for attention, we weren't rude or bossy or difficult, we were traumatised and hurt and tired. The children we were who played with dolls, cutting off their hair before we were allowed to mess up our own, had been let down.

4. Still Talking About The Barbie Movie, But Also Talking About My Mum.

Nearly a month ago, my mum died. She had a brain tumour, diagnosed a decade after she had the all clear from breast cancer. These two acts of evil by the universe were unrelated, it wasn't a secondary tumour related to her first one, it was just bad luck. She had been sick for years, and before that she was sick in different ways for years, so it wasn't a shock, but it has forced me into a new era of my life in a way I wasn't ready for. Just like growing up.

My mum was born in poverty in the 1960s in the West of Scotland, and by the time I came along her life was a dreamscape compared to what she had once known. We had a standard, comfortable-enough, but still working-class life, but we lived in her Barbie Dream House. I got my love of clothes and dressing up from her, the colour palette of my life from her, and my internal monologue from her. We spent most of our time together until I moved to Glasgow at 19, even when I was raging and destructive, because she was sick, and because she knew I wasn't going to be that way forever. She had been a wee girl once, too. She knew why I wanted to bite people.

The moment in the Barbie Movie where Ruth Handler says "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they've come” launched into my chest like a fist and winded me. I was holding my friend Isla's hand at this point, too, she knew why I was crying and she cried too. I know this line was likely intended to be about career and the choices afforded to older women in the past, and the choices afforded now to mothers vs fathers, about the sacrifices of mothers and the love they send their creations, us, off into the world knowing, but my mum's own stillness was suddenly phrased in a new way, and it hurt. I don't want to look back on photos and videos to see where I left her, I want her to be dressed up in pink and glitter to go to the cinema with me. I wanted to cry with her and tell her I loved her for everything she did for me growing up, for putting up with me when I ruined by hair and dressed like a maniac and cost her a fortune in black eyeliner. I wanted to thank her for laughing and agreeing when i told her I wanted to bite people, I wanted to thank her for understanding my hormones were making me shouty and introverted and weird, not my intentions. I don't want to see how far I've come without her, she was supposed to be here.

I wish I could have discussed Gloria's point of view with her, watching her daughter grow up and away from her, in reference to our relationship. I wish we could have agreed we were so glad we got to the other side of that, and that every year I wasn't a teenager was better than the last for her, too. We would have laughed at Weird Barbie because all my dolls looked like her too. She would have remembered stories about my girlhood i'd never heard, she always did when we watched films together, often in her bed while the rain poured outside. The strangest part of losing my mum, has been losing the only witness to my entire life, because no one knows you the way the person who made you, lost you, and got you back knows you.

5. The End

Greta Gerwig has made me cry a lot, mostly about being a daughter to a mum, and growing up, and I love that this film fits solidly into her library, while standing out as an offering to a world that doesn't seek this kind of epiphany out. Barbie's mission as a doll was supposed to be about empowering women and girls, giving girls a role model when women didn't have space in the world to make globally successful films about how brilliant and capable and hurt and injured women are.

It's easy to look back after seeing the film, especially with all the history lessons included, and decide that Ruth Handler won the day with this mission, but I think The Barbie Movie will be the true closing chapter to this objective for Mattel. Isla (my friend whose hands I kept kissing and crying on in the cinema) and I were talking after the film about how kids now aren't growing up with the Barbie we had. They're not getting glamazon, can't stand up for the size of her boobs Barbie, with her yellow hair and a princess dress. They're getting flat footed, representative of them Barbie. She looks like she eats her dinners and she could actually do all the activities she's dressed to do, she's modern, and that's class, it's the next step in the evolution. That means that this film won't give the wee girls we were sat among in the cinema the same gut punches and feelings of nostalgia for girlhood when they grow up that it gave us. Their Barbies are just dolls, pals, they aren't trying to prove anything. There's no "please go further than I ever did, please" in the marketing, we all know we can be whatever we want to be in theory, we've heard it all and we're constantly under pressure to actualise it, like Gloria was talking about.

We've finally caught up to Barbie, we can, in theory, have our own homes and careers, we have the right to our own bank account, we don't, in theory, have to have families if we don't want them, we can be whatever we want, it just really, really fucking hurts trying to get there. And so we meet Barbie, all of us able to actually stand without a giant hand supporting us, Birkenstock to Birkenstock, looking out at what's to come. What's to come, is more of what's been, because we don't have equality, or anything close to it. We are still aching and being traumatised by our world. By the end of the film, Barbie is a real woman, a symbol of this new era Isla and I were talking about. She chose death and cellulite and misogyny over their absences because to feel, and to be real, and to stand with the girls who grew up loving her, is more noble.

I will say though, if there's a vacancy in Barbieland now she's in LA, I have really bad cramp and I'm tired of crying for my mum, so I'll send my CV over if anyone has an in x

#barbie #barbie movie #queer #gaidhlig #barbie 2023 #barbie greta gerwig #the barbie movie #gaelic #barbie girl #bratz #childhood #inner child

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