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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

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I Think I'm OKAY

genre: Angst, hurt comfort

length: two parter

warning(s): Feelings of abandonment, self-depreciating thoughts, suicidal thoughts (briefly), feelings of not being good enough, feelings of being unneeded and unloved

A/N: its just been a day guys. And Ive been think about this all day so I just wrote to get tge thoughs out of my head.

this takes place a few months after the epilogue of Everything Undesired where Azalea is still coming to grips with the fact that she's not her father's heir like she always thought she had been. Mammon and Arella really did try to make time for her but things just never worked out in their favor and it ended up giving their daughter abandonment issues.

She’s lost. Not physically but mentally- Azalea doesn’t know where to go or what her purpose is. Ever since her older brother returned from where ever the hell he’s been her whole life, she’s felt more alone than ever before. From her parents being busier than ever helping Cyrus readjust to life here in the Devildom to her twin brother being curious enough about their new older brother to spend all his time trying to get to know him, no one has time for Azalea any more.

Whenever she tries to reach out to either her parents or her brother she gets blown off. It’s always ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t make it.’ or ‘I’m sorry, I forgot that was today.’ Forgot? How does one just forget about their child? And Azalea is sorry too. She’s sorry for existing. Maybe everyone is just tired of her. Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? After all, she was just her father’s back up plan. A back up plan. Yeah, it sounded as bad as it hurt- to think that’s the only reason he kept her around all this time. Despite how she might try, all she could ever do is fuck up. Why would her parents ever need a child like that?

She feels abandoned, unneeded. All she ever wanted was to make them proud- she pushed herself to maintain the perfect grades just for their praise. Hell, she’d even forced herself to take advanced placement and honors courses just for their approval but they hadn’t even noticed. And it’s not like she hadn’t tried to show them. The last report card she got in her last year of middle school had a note attached to it stating that when she entered RAD, she’d be welcomed into the advanced courses but of course they had been too busy to even look. Both of her parents assumed nothing had changed so they just didn’t need to see something they had seen hundreds of times already.

Why did they stop loving me? The half-demon thinks to herself, Was it all the fights? Was I not good enough for them? I wish I could make them happy the way my brothers do. I wish I was perfect like them, maybe then they wouldn’t have forgotten about me. Maybe I would still belong. What did I do wrong? Azalea can feel the tears dripping down her face. I’m crying? Again? Pathetic. People like me don’t cry.

She hurriedly wipes them away as she looks up at the stars that dot the night sky of the Devildom. She’s pretty high up on a rooftop. She wonders if a fall from this height might kill her or would it just leave her badly injured- the idea’s tempting. She’d come up here to clear her mind and sort out her feelings with how things had changed- how everything she thought she was meant to be had been ripped away from her, but it had just made things worse. She thought she was okay with all this change but after trying for months to find something new to do with the rest of forever, she found out the only thing she was ever any good at was getting into fights. Sure, she’d taken up sports on her uncle Beel’s suggestion but that led to even more pain when time after time, neither of her parents could be bothered show up.

Her phone lights up with a text from her father.

Dad:

Why weren’t ya at dinner today?

Azalea:

Why weren’t you and Mum at my meet today? Ya know like you promised ya would be?

Dad:

‘Zay c’mon don’t be like that. We said we were sorry but something important came up and we couldn’t make it

Azalea:

Sure whatever you say old man

Its what you always say

It's always something more important ain’t it?

Something more important than me.

Dad:

Azalea

Azalea:

Shove it old man. I don’t wanna hear it right now.

She always gets the short end of the stick. For parents that claim they care about her, they sure had a shitty way of showing it. As the family’s resident trouble maker, she’s not good enough for them. Whatever, she doesn’t even need them anyway. She deserves better than a family that doesn’t care. A family she no longer has a place in. And that was fine by her. Now that she’d finally admitted it to herself, she found it would be easier to ignore her entire family and live life depending on only herself.

With a shuddering huff, the girl shuts her D.D.D off and shoves it in her jacket pocket. She leaves the roof top, still in tears headed for the House of Lamentation.

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“Arella, I have to go and find our daughter.” Mammon sighs as he gets his jacket on.

“She’s still upset about the track meet, isn’t she?” The black-haired human frowns “If you’ll give me a moment, I can ask Aurelius if he’ll watch Mahlon and I’ll go with you. This is something we should address together.”

“I don’t think we got the time to waste, Hon. She stopped respondin’ ta my texts and isn’t answerin’ her phone. If I don’t go now, she might so something to herself. I’ll be able to cover more ground quicker if I fly since she could be anywhere- even up high where we wouldn’t be able to see her that easily.”

“Then go on, I’ll talk to her when she gets home.” Arella nods as her husband leaves.

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She enters her room through the garage door entrance. She really didn’t need to considering Azalea was the only one home currently. She knew Aurelius and Zulima would be gone for the rest of the weekend but still she locked her door to prevent any unwanted visitors- mainly her parents as she knew they’d probably come looking for her after the message she’d sent to her father earlier.

She looked over at the stack of unopened akuzon boxes- all gifts sent to her by her parents as ‘apologies’ for various things. Yeah sure, gifts were nice when they were for things like birthdays or Christmas but not when they were used as a way to placate her feelings when her parents missed things like track meets or science fairs or school functions that they promised they would be there for. It felt like a shallow apology so Azalea never opened any of them. They were starting to collect dust now.

Just because greed is her sin doesn’t mean its satisfied by material objects alone. There was more to it than that. Her sin specifically manifests with being greedy for healthy interpersonal relationships- things like money or material objects only did the bare minimum to help keep it under control and satisfied. She wanted her parents’ attention and only that so when they failed to keep their promises, it hurts her deeper than either of them understands- Azalea doesn’t even have the words to describe how it hurts her.

As she plops down on her sectional and flips on the projection of stars and constellations from the human world to calm herself down, she thinks about the way her greed is eating her alive as she turns on some music- a song her friend from the human world showed her called ‘I Think I’m Okay’. It was a song she really related to for some reason. As the song plays on loop, she thinks about how when she was younger- before her youngest brother was born- she was always of healthy weight and body condition. Nowadays with the lack of ability to satisfy her sin, she was just skin and bone. Despite eating constantly, she always feels like she’s starving and she’d be lucky if she weighed in at 90 pounds soaking wet- all of it coming from the weight of her bones and muscle. Her body is just burning through everything too fast and at this point Azalea doesn’t know whether or not she even has the energy to waste to transform into her demon form anymore.

The half-demon hears a faint knock at the door. Maybe if she doesn’t answer then whoever it is will get the hint and go away. As she watches the door open, a scowl appears on her face. Of course her father would pick the lock on her door. She doesn’t know why she’s even surprised right now. He never knows when to leave well enough alone.

“We need to talk...” Mammon says as he sits down on the couch next to her.

“I don’t wanna. Get lost.” the teenager rolls on to her side away from her father.

“Too bad. I’m not leavin’ until we do.”

“Then prepare ta die in here cuz I refuse.” She can’t let him fool her into accepting his apology when she knows full well he doesn’t mean it.

“You really are just like your ma sometimes- stubborn as all get out.” He sighs. “I see ya never opened yer packages. Why?”

She continued to ignore him. How can she get out of this? Maybe if she closed her eyes, she could fool him into thinking she was asleep.

Just get frustrated and leave already. It’s what ya always do when I won’t talk to ya.

She waits an hour, two, three but still he doesn’t leave.

Man is this getting annoying! Why won’t he just give up and go home already?

“Well, since ya won’t talk, I will. Ya know, Mom and I really are sorry we couldn’t be there this afternoon... I know you’re upset about it but we got called to an emergency meeting at the castle and we... kinda... forgot what time it was by time we were done. I know we don’t have a lot of time to spend with ya anymore but things are just so crazy right now... it’s difficult and when ya act like a brat like this it doesn’t make things any easier.” And Mammon realizes too late that he’s said the wrong thing and put his foot in his mouth.

“Right... cuz that’s all I am is a spoiled brat...” Azalea can’t help the way her voice quakes. “I’m a brat because I asked for you and mum to pay attention to me over the boys just this once and you two let me down and now, I’m getting blamed for being as upset as I am. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

“Azalea, that’s not what I meant and you know that,” Mammon places his hand on her shoulder to turn her over and is shocked when all he feels is bone and muscles that are beginning to atrophy. “What are you doing to yourself? Yer nothin’ but skin an’ bone, Baby.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE WHOSE DOING THIS TO ME!” she roars as she hops up from the couch. “IT’S YOU TWO. YOU’RE THE ONES DOING THIS TO ME!” and then her voice suddenly drops. “But you would notice that if you spent more than five seconds with me. My greed is eating me alive and it’s your fault. I’ve tried for months to get you or Mum to spend time with me and I get forgotten about every time because something ‘more important’ comes up or you also make plans with Aurelius or Cyrus and choose to do that over spending time with me. It’s either that or you both choose Mahlon over me and it’s literally killing me. I get that they all need you guys too and I’m not more important than them but it feels like they’re more important to you than me. And I hate it because...” She lets out a sob as she sinks to her knees, “Because you two are the most important people to me.”

Mammon looks at his daughter with a horrified look on his face. His only daughter feels like she’s not important to them but she was right in a way. Both he and Arella had been choosing her brothers over her- not intentionally but he can see why she would come to that conclusion. This was a very crucial time in her life having had everything she thought she was taken away and she was lost with no clue where to go. He and her mother should have been right by her side, helping her find a new path in life this whole time but instead they got so wrapped up in work and other things that now their daughter was suffering the consequences.

“No, baby that’s not true.” The demon says as he wraps his little girl up in his arms. “You are so important to us too.” He rubs her back as he rocks her back and forth, “We love you so much and I’m so sorry we haven’t made ya feel like that. We’re gonna do better from now on. I promise, okay?”

Azalea is hesitant to nod. How many times had she heard the word promise and then had that promise broken but even now as she’s wrapped up in her father’s arms, she’s starting to feel the overwhelming weight of her sin slowly start to go away. She just rests her head against his chest as her puffy teary blue to gold eyes start to slip closed ever so slowly.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” He says as he runs he hand through her hair and places a kiss to the top of her head.

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Find more on my masterlist

#obey me next gen #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me mammon #mammon angst #om! mammon #obey me oc #arella #azalea

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smuttymess · 4 years ago

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bts astro soulmate reading | for alexis

sign: gemini sun | leo moon | pisces rising

lover: Park Jimin | soulmate: Jung Hoseok

This reading is for Alexis, a lovely Jimin stan who also rides hard for OT7. Jimin is also big on OT7, so he would certainly approve. Hope you enjoy this one, love, and happy Jimin/Libra season! <3

Ah, free-spirited Gemini, is there anyone who can truly figure you out? Effortlessly sociable, charming and exuberant, you are likely admired by many but understood by few. You are the social butterfly, the person that people “click” with right away as a result of your boundless energy, charisma and independence. Your rising sign is how you present yourself to the world, and with Pisces in this placement you are innately intuitive, emotional, and sensitive to the world around you. This is a particularly contradictory chart with each placement in a different element: one that flows like water, runs like air, and burns strong like fire. With this combination, and especially with Gemini at the helm, it likely that you’ve struggled to find your place in a world wherein people want you to subscribe to one way of thinking and living. Your rising sign guides how you present yourself to others, and an ascendent in Pisces means you are highly adaptable, your personality shifting to fit your environment. Your Gemini Sun is inherently dual and ever-changing on its own, and the addition of a Pisces ascendent can naturally lead you to mold yourself in accordance to your surroundings leading others wondering who you truly are. It's possible that you may not have the answer just yet, or that this multifaceted nature is in fact who you are at the core. With your Moon in Leo, you seamlessly command respect in any given situation - your passion for your ideas practically pouring out of you in the most compelling of ways. You are often able to focus and master one idea or project at a time, making you unstoppable in the pursuit of your goals. As a result, whatever version of "you" that you present to the world on any given day is likely to be received positively by whoever is in your orbit. While your Leo is quite prone to exaggeration and bold expressions of your emotions, your friends and family know this is simply in your nature as a product of the conflicting elements that rule your spirit, but are happy to let you be the star of the show.

A true social butterfly, you are the friend that people look to for an enjoyable night out - wherever you are is where others inherently want to be! Your Gemini/Leo makes you thrive in the spotlight, feeling truly celebrated and seen by those in your orbit, so you are likely to enjoy fun, active environments and activities where you shine. This leads you to a disco themed roller rink party in the city, which allows you to take on a new persona for the night and dress up in something truly fabulous while sneaking in a little bubbly. You are in your element and as the beams of light dance overhead, illuminating your flirtatious, magnetic Leo charm, all eyes are on you - including Park Jimin's. He's a stunner in a sleek, retro-inspired floral button down and dark jeans, but what really grabs you is the sweet smile he flashes as you glide across the floor. Maybe its the way you move like the wind, or your characteristically mysterious Pisces rising dreaminess that leads him to sync up with you, but there he is, skating side-by-side. You're happy to find that not only is this boy as gorgeous up close - his eyes twinkling as brightly as the lights above - but he also has some serious moves to rival your own. It is in your flirtatious little competition that you notice the precision in which he moves, but also the way his ass looks in those flared jeans, and how his lips curl into a sly smile as he senses that he's got you.

Two free-flowing air signs such as these inherently get each other, and this duo moves from friends to lovers at a rapid pace. Both you and Jimin are very idealistic with the people you fall into like with, and you know very well how to savor every moment with that special someone, showing them the full breadth of your love for the time that you are together in a naive but sincere hope that it never ends. It is the stability sought after by his Libra Sun and your Leo Sun, however, that balances scales so that this deepens into a true friendship and not simply a flighty whirlwind romance. In each other's presence - and even outside of it - you two have an impenetrable connection that is almost all-consuming. Jimin's Mars in Scorpio makes him a perfectionist in his work but isn't the one to forget about their partner even for an hour, sneaking cute selfies from dance practice and sending over pastries from his favorite bakery. With his Moon in Gemini, there is a duality that you can deeply understand and appreciate - he needs his freedom and spontaneity as much as you do and enjoys sweeping you away for 1:1 time with just a moment's notice. He may be sending you sweet texts that soon move into something a bit naughtier as soon as he's away from the boys. How is my pretty girl. Can you send me a picture? ;) There is no way you're ever saying no to him, especially when he's feeling needy - nobody is as persistent as a charming, horny Libra. Please, princess, can I see? Sex in this pairing is light and fun, starting with some foreplay via selfie and ending with kisses planted along your collarbone the minute he gets home. Jimin's Libra Sun and Venus in Scorpio combination makes him equally playful and passionate in bed, wanting to kiss and nibble on your ears, neck, and lips long before his hands reach under the loose fabric of your shirt. Unpredictable Gemini, you are just as likely to let him ravish you against the wall as you are to drag him by the collar to your room, pushing him down onto the bed and watching his eyes light up with anticipation as you kneel down between his knees. He is more than happy to let you take the lead while takes in the tantalizing visual of your hands on his cock, your tongue flicking his sensitive head until he's a panting, moaning mess, begging you to climb on top of him. Heaven may just be the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips as you grind onto him, his lush lips falling apart in bliss as he takes you in.

While the infatuation period here is sweet as honey, trouble meets this couple when it comes to true commitment and partnership long term. While you both share air qualities, there are placements elsewhere that serve to cause too much friction, primarily in the ways that you show love in your romantic relationships. Jimin's Venus in Scorpio makes him controlling, jealous and possessive when in love, which is just something that is innately against your core nature that needs a high level of independence. Your Venus in Scorpio is flirtatious, explorative and energetic - often leaving Jimin feeling the need to chase you and earn your affection. When that prompts you to run away further, the Libra withdraws their attention, only serving to anger the attention-seeking Libra and exacerbates the issue until trust is all but fully eroded. You cannot stand to constantly reassure him that you care for him and do not want anyone else, and without personal work this level of insecurity is entirely too much for the relationship to sustain.

A true lover of learning and experience, you likely enjoy being out in the world, mixing and mingling with diverse range of people with varied backgrounds and interests. You are not one to stay in one place for too long - there is a wide world out there that you want to see, taste and feel as deeply as possible during your time here on earth. This proclivity has the likelihood to bring you to interesting places, both local and abroad, where you are able to express your full self alway from the mundanity of everyday life - it is through these adventures that you find meaning. It is on one particular night during one of your spontaneous jaunts - think to Santorini or Sao Paolo - where you find yourself engrossed in warm, flirtatious conversation with a stranger who seems to know how to capture attention as seamlessly as you do. It is almost impossible not to notice him standing against the wall: his brick colored button up and dark jeans clearly outlining his dancer's physique while his jet black, slicked back hair perfectly accentuates the sharpness of his nose and jaw as his head bobs to the music. He posses a mysterious, almost intimidating aura that makes you achingly curious to get his attention and learn more. It is not long before you are chest to chest on the dance floor floating through a decadent, romantic daze, his eyes glued to you like a puzzle looking to be figured out. You have no idea what any of this means, and you don't care - the only thing existing in that moment is the man whose fingers are intertwined with yours, his hips moving to the beat, expertly guiding your movements as you sway to the rhythm of the evening. Your bodies are incredibly in sync, something you don't hesitate to explore further back at his suite later that night.

These are two individuals who operate on extremely independent, creative and unique levels, which you boldly express through statement clothing and curious-quick witted conversation. It is not unlikely for you to often feel quite misunderstood, as if the world could never comprehend the depths of their character and soul. These commonalities bond you right away, creating a refuge for the two of you to playfully discuss so many of life's nuances that only these very curious and introspective signs can understand. You, Gemini, are a people-person, likely interested in connecting others through acts of service - the passion and intelligence when you speak about these topics pour from you so effortlessly, which is something Hoseok's kind Aquarius can appreciate. You enjoy bouncing ideas off of the goal-oriented Hobi who is happy to hear your often big-pictured ideas and strategize how to make moves towards your many goals. Your innate charm and communication skills unlock a more emotional, open-hearted side of Hoseok which is often shielded by a complex, ambiguous persona - a trademark of the Aquarius man. While your Gemini Sun makes you spontaneous and flighty, your Leo Moon brings focus and stability to your relationships, wherein you prefer to devote yourself to one love interest at a time. This works quite well with Hoseok's Taurus moon which is steady, strong-willed, and determined when it comes to the things he likes, and does not shy away from letting you know it, which makes your Leo heart soar. A connection like this is too good to pass up, leaving you both interested in continuing beyond simply a vacation hook-up.

Living in different countries may deter some, but this is a pair that knows how to be creative and keep each other stimulated anytime, anywhere. You are more happy to be adored and devoured by Hoseok's passionate Pisces Venus, which makes him dreamy, playful and effortlessly charming in his romantic life - stopping at nothing to get you pining for him. He knows how to keep you on your toes - from impromptu flights to that city you mentioned wanting to visit, shipping artwork you admired straight to your door, or sending a kinky gift to you at work with a note to send him a selfie right away. Distance is nothing in the eyes of Hobi, whose Aquarius Sun is progressive, unusual and rebellious in that nowhere is off limits to him. Expect late night calls while he's alone in the hotel, his deep voice sending shockwaves through your system as you step away from dinner with your friends. You love how he can go from playful to commanding, asking about your day before instructing you to lock your bathroom door and slowly guide your fingers across your nipples, pinching each nub before moving towards your navel. You can hear him hum as your breath hitches, your fingers stopped inches from your clit as directed before you're able to close the gap. You're such a good girl for me, making your friends can wait. I need you to come for me right now - can you do that for me? This is a rhetorical question - he knows exactly how to press the right buttons, purring into your ear and teasing you to the point of near devastation. The duality of his persona from sweet boyfriend to soft dom allows you to let go, bringing out a more exhibitionist, unabashed side of you that isn't afraid to let curses slip from your lips as he brings you to your edge, your muscles tensing around your fingers as he keeps the commands coming. Moan for me, baby. Tell me how much you miss me. This is a duo that can sustain lasting sexual fire because of their shared creativity, intelligence and curiosity that you can access in each other. Whenever Hoseok does land in your city, you know it is only a matter of time before you're chest to chest, his hands gripping your hair, face and neck with an intensity that comes from several weeks apart and insane levels of foreplay - something only a weekend of riding his long, perfect cock can fix.

Ultimately, the merging of Gemini & Aquarius can allow for deep emotional support and loyalty alongside with the much-needed autonomy and playfulness that both signs require. This is an extremely delicate balance, one that only two air signs could realistically achieve though it is not done without some hard work. Hoseok's Sun and Mars is in Aquarius, which contributes to his laser-focus on his goals that prevents him from always being able to give you all of the attention that your Leo heart truly requires on a consistent basis. Your burning discontent is likely to manifest in fiery, passionate outbursts wherein you feel like the victim of an Aquarius's occasional disconnectedness when focused elsewhere. This pairing stands to work on using their words and not letting little things slide, as would serve to deepen the connection between both parties to prove they can go the distance and focus on what matters most in a partnership: unconditional love and respect. With increased maturity and patience, this duo can certainly go the distance, creating a life that combines his cultural contributions as a performer with your desire to help humanity reach higher levels of empathy and understanding. Natural rebels, is a couple that is likely to shirk conventionality and rigid societal rules to ensure their own physical and emotional comfort. This specific pairing points to a life of extensive travel and a very public life, working internationally to expand education and creating programs in the arts in communities in need. It is when you channel this incredible energy that you can spread your boundless love and creativity to the world around you and truly improve society at large.

#bts #bts horoscope #bts astrology #gemini #leo #pisces #libra #aquarius #park jimin #jung hoseok #hobi #creative writing #love #romance

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ethandigby · 5 years ago

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『 LANDON LIBOIRON ❙ GENDERQUEER 』 ⟿ looks like ETHAN DIGBY is here for THEIR SECOND year as a VISUAL ART GRAD student. HE is 27 years old & known to be DEDICATED, HONEST, STUBBORN & PESSIMISTIC. They’re living in NOLAND, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ drew. twenty-two. est. he/him. ethan’s pinterest

trivia:

he really likes white cholate & hot chocolate, often eating handfuls of white chocolate baking discs regardless of the time of day.

visual art major --- tends to stray towards sculptures and installation pieces, though he does have a love for bob ross style landscape pieces. draws a lot of inspiration from older art, and many of his pieces are designed to look worn-out and as though they are missing pieces.

perpetually exhausted --- for all his love of schedules, he has never managed to consistently get enough sleep and though he loves tea, that never seems to have enough of an impact to truly wake him up ---- a.k.a he is a yawn prone little fuck

doesn’t quite believe the local legends, though he doesn’t dismiss them outright either. the statue by wishing tree has, however, made it into several of his works ---- statues seem to have her facial features without him ever meaning to and he will swear to anyone that asks that in sophomore year of his bachelor’s degree he woke up one morning to her face staring at him from amongst the trees on a painting he had been working on. he will hesitantly add that it’s possible that he had just been thinking of her while half asleep, though ethan doesn’t really believe that

currently working as a TA for some of the freshman art classes, as well as overseeing the use of the different art studios from time to time.

doesn’t believe in labels --- and that’s corny as hell, but he just wants to be able to be whoever he is in the moment and has had some harsher reactions when he uses umbrella terms, so he just refuses to label himself. relationship-wise it’s a whole different issue, he floats from one major relationship to another and often times will cycle back to one that’s already gone sour.

has recently started going to a therapist to talk about some of the issues he has processing emotions and his fear of change ---- it’s been helping but he’s still very much on the verge of flight mode and will run away from situations that demand any real sort of emotional input from him on occasion.

personality:

he is cynical, despite a desire to believe the best in people and the world - he has seen too much of the darker side of the world to ever truly believe it ---- this is reflected not only in his interactions with people ( he is open about expressing doubt and disbelief, he won’t believe a word you say, and he overanalyzes promises / invitations / declarations of love ) but also in his art and aesthetic which veers towards the dark and damned, a lot of his work is themed around broken things

stubborn as a mule ---- once he gets an idea in his mind, it can be hard to change his mind with logical arguments though an emotional appeal will have a better chance ---- he’s very set in his ways and struggles with questioning why things are the way they are, insisting that somethings should just be. loathes change and isn’t afraid to express this dislike --- tends to eat the same foods, wear the same clothes, go to the same places ---- despite a childhood dislike of routine, he finds it comforting nowadays, it feels safe.

loyal as all hell, you can hurt him a million times and he will still struggle to walk away and a genuine apology will win him back in an instant. he struggles to cut ties, even with those that he knows aren’t the best for him and has only successfully done so when it is possible for him to do so in a swift and permanent way. in most cases, he will eventually find his way back to those that he knows.

friendly but not overly so --- he has no issue approaching people if he needs something, but he’s not generally one to approach you just to “chat” b/c he’s not big on small talk in general and honestly? he’d never say it but if he doesn’t know you, he doesn’t really give a damn how your day went or how you feel about the weather or current events. if he drinks, he becomes a little more sociable in that matter, but that often drifts into “ethan is going to info-dump about whatever has his interest in the moment and the only way to stop him is to like physically place something in / on his mouth” territory which is a whole different level of awkward.

backstory:

growing up in a household where routine took priority, ethan spent a long time feel stifled by his parent’s demands that everything turned out perfectly ---- the neverending need to do things at just the right time, in just the right way. it was like fitting into a sweater that was just a tad too small, wrong in a way that is hard to explain

it’s in high school that he meets a true kindred spirit in the form of his art teacher ---- he helps ethan to realize his need for freedom and self-expression, and embraces his abilities in a way that he had always been afraid to. it’s a change that his parents are disapproving of, trying to reroute their son’s future to one of the paths that they would have approved of. but for once, he allows himself to rebel.

and after graduation, he leaves. running to new york, where he throws himself into the art scene head first without any real plans. for two years, he works multiple jobs as he cycles through sketchy roommates in his shitty apartment and equally shitty life partners, trying to discover things about himself that he hadn’t known before.

he’s still figuring some of that out, unsure of how to label his gender or his sexuality --- wishing more than anything that he could just be, a desire that he has long held onto since childhood that’s coming back to haunt them at last.

that’s not the only thing that’s caught up with them as of late, the digby’s finally managing to track him down in new york and showing up at his apartment two years after he initially ran off. they came with open minds and a burning desire to see their son do something other than work minimum wage jobs and live in run-down apartments. they were quiet and subdued in a way that they never had been.

it took six months for them to convince him to enroll in college, and he eventually chose to attend radcliffe with an undeclared major. it was far enough from his hometown that his parents couldn’t reasonably drive up too often, but close enough that he could go home if he had wanted. a three-hour drive in the best traffic.

the distance proved to be the right amount --- though his parents certainly seemed to pop up over the first three months with containers of food and worries that their child would have run off, they eventually learned to trust him. and slowly, the wounds healed ---- ethan wouldn’t say that they’re close but they’ve learned to respect each other’s boundaries.

and he’s never seen them more proud than at graduation, except maybe when he told them that he was going to apply to grad school. it wasn’t the path that they had planned for ethan, but they had learned to be enthusiastic about his success, about his dreams and about his art.

doing his master’s degree - it’s been weird. being here is weird for him in general, he still misses new york even though it was a whole different kind of existence ---- he misses the stability of going to work everyday and being completely independent. here, he has to rely on his professors and classmates, he has people that expect him to check in with them and there’s more socialization --- mostly because he’s been trying to do better with that.

connections:

good / bad influence: okay so traditionally, i think these would be separate connections but i think in this case, it’s more convoluted than that. for all of ethan running away from the environment his parents made, he’s very much stuck to those rules and expectations --- i would love for someone to start to break him out of that --- encourage him to party and drink and live life, and it doesn’t all have to be bad, it can be good too. you know, them bringing him to parties and him learning actually valuable lessons from it --- idk open to talking about their potential influence on each other, i think it could be fun

frenemies ( onesided or not ): i think a lot of ethan’s trust issues are a projection mechanism because he knows that in some ways that he can’t be trusted --- so i wld love for someone who they act like best friends when they’re together and then ethan just ... talks smack about them and doesn’t keep their secrets ( and maybe they do the same?? )

exes ( of all types / genders / whatever ): this one, my dear ethan, has gotten around a bit --- maybe they hooked up and now it’s awkward ---- maybe they dated for a while and keep circling back to each other despite knowing that they’re bad for each other ( a la unmiss you by clara mae ) ---- maybe they dated for a while and now they never talk so when they do see each other it’s just ... awkward as hell ---- open to literally anything with this one guys

art buddies: just two pals, palling around --- only prerequisite is that your character has some sort of interest in an art ( writing, theatre, music, film, etc etc ) --- and hey maybe they don’t get along but they put up a united front against the STEM majors who mock their choices in major?

other: open to discussing dormates, coworkers, current love interests and literally anything else that you can think of --- does your character need someone over 21 to buy them alcohol? call ethan. for real tho, hit me up and let’s come up with some stuff!

#radintro #i refuse to make this longer by introducing myself hi i'm drew

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theinvulnerabletide · 7 years ago

Note

Headcanon meme: (answer for whoever you can think of things for I guess) 1, 8, 11, 12, 23, 26, 29, 30, 34 :3

Okay okay okay. This got long because some of them turned into vignettes, so it’s gonna be under thecut.

1.) Love

Forsomeone who professed to be a loner, Lyra has loved so many people in her life.Her mother, first and brightest and most dearly, murdered on her way back fromher shift at the pub, the Stone Crows, her gang growing up, including her bestfriend Kora, who got scooped off the streets when some passing mage saw her set something on fire with her mind (which now strikes Lyra as ironic, consideringher current travelling companions, and her own predicament).

And then her newfound family,her Magpies. The ones that were murdered so cruelly in front of her.

Love and loss are intertwinedfor Lyra, the brilliance of lightning followed by world-shaking thunder. Whichis why she has, wholeheartedly, decided to stop caring about people. They won’tleave if she doesn’t get attached, and even if they do, well, she won’t feelanything right? Win win.

8.) DreamsIt’s not uncommon for Whisperto dream of water. Even if it wasn’t literally her element,she spent so much of her life surrounded by it; snow and rain pattering on thestone, the underground inlet, the blighted mermaid tank, that it of course itwould enter her dreams at some point.

Tonight though, tonight isdifferent. Tonight she dreams of depths, of an ocean so deep there is nogranulated sunlight to illuminate it, and even her comfort with the dark isn’tenough to make it feel less… crushing. She sees in staticky black and whitehere, feels the way the currents tug insistently at her. She has to remindherself that she can breathe.

There’s movement there, in thedepths. It takes up the whole of her vision. It’s just the suggestion of agreat thing slowly winding and unwinding, pulsing slightly as if with laboredbreath. It does not move against the current. It directs it, and it makes herown breath catch in her throat. Not with fear, but with excitement.

When she wakes, she swears shecan still feel it, the current tugging at her, the great thing directing herforwards. The letter appears the next day, and the day after that, she isgone.

12.) Worst Enemy

According to Az’ar, her worst enemies are the Godsthemselves.

The Gods are arbitrary and cruel things, starting and endinglife as it pleases them, for mere entertainment. They set up laws,contradictory and unforgiving, a universe full of pain and misery, and createdsentient creatures to wade through the mud and experience every bit of it.Growing up in the Shadowfell, Az’ar has witnessed it all, and grew to despisethe traditions of the Shadar’kai, the same traditions that honor Hala by tryingto protect the living things she holds so dear, especially from the unnaturalundead things she abhors, the traditions that pretend to honor Her brother bysending them back to His domain, and by dying well.

She left her people, somethingelse that was forbidden, and fought and killed far too many of them in order tocross over to the Prime Material Plane, the tear she made between worldsallowing a few of those undead monstrosities to cross with her. It was aregrettable loss, ones that she lays again at the feet of the Gods; if herpeople had not been obsessed with their supposed sacred duties, they would nothave needed to die.

Az’ar intends to wrest their claws from her chest, by making itso she can never die, and then, she will end their grip on the rest of thePlanes, even if it means killing them. She hope it does. That would be a sweetirony indeed.

23.) Romance

Orianais a romantic. Probably in the classical movement sense as well as in thehopeless romantic sense. She has this ideal of herself: knight in shiningarmor, a blazing paragon of Wahreight’s mercy and light, beating back thedarkness and protecting the innocent.

She also is kind of obsessedwith romance novels, and novels that we might consider romance novels due tothe way books are sold, but, unlike Whisper, prefers the ones that hold a highideal of love than the vulgar. Which isn’t to say she won’t read books with sexin them, only that she prefers more comedies of manners. Jehanne Augere’s Dignityand Discrimination remains her favorite novel (and she finally got a copyof her own the last time we visited Fantasy Half Price Books), and she’s morelikely to blush at the scene where the elven hero confesses his love for thevery human Elisabet. 26.) Beauty

Thecostume is… well. It’s tight. And barely there. Whisper runs her hands thelength of her torso, fingers skimming cut-outs in the shimmering golden fabricat her sides where her midnight skin provides contrast, and she lets out ashuddering breath. She doesn’t know whether its nerves or awe that’s making herstomach clench uncomfortably but… either way.

She sneaks a peak in themirror and looks away almost immediately. Salt and storm, she is glad hermother will never see her in this, or she’d be dead. Brutally and messily andall over the place.

She sneaks another look, outof the corner of her eye at first, then straight on. The leotard is almostblinding in the way the golden cloth catches the light (Ignatius’ choice, nodoubt), small black stitching and sequins giving the illusion of scales downher stomach. At her hips is this strange, diaphanous half-skirt, more like thefrills of a tiger fish than an actual garment. The neckline—if it can be calledthat— plunges far deeper than anything she’s ever worn, and she mutters a quickprayer that she won’t spill out of this thing at an inopportune moment. Or anopportune one. She is not being paid enough for that.

But the effect… She takes astep back, so she can see the whole effect, the golden ribbons wrapped aroundher horns and pinned in her hair, the ridiculous amount of eyeshadow, thestreaks of gold shimmer on her cheeks, she looks… ethereal. Magical. Shestretches one indigo hand out, and her reflection does the same, lightlymeeting her in the mirror. She watches herself smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,”comes a voice from behind her, wobbling like the owner is about to burst intotears. “You look beautiful, Whisper. Just brilliant…”

She whirls around, a scowlslotting into place. “I can’t believe he wants me to wear this, Terrance!”

The huge man doesn’t seem tohear her, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, I outdid myself. Just wait until the audience see you. You’re going to dazzle them.”

Whisper laughs under herbreath, and sneaks another look at herself. Okay. Maybe it’s not so bad afterall.

29.) Bedroom (and 11.) Best Friend).

She wasclose, she was so freaking close! If she could just figure out thethaumodynamic stabilizers and the aetheric channels and how to connect them tothe theurgic couplings, then the armor would definitely be finished beforeschool started. Her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth as sheconcentrated, wand on one hand, tweezers in the other, a soldering ironfloating above her, held by her mage hand.

The workbench in front of heris littered with such tools, awl and a few other small sharp blades and hergrindstone, linen thread and an assortment of needles, little colored glass ballsshe’d spent weeks making and enchanting so they wouldn’t break when she used them,and small gems that had cost quite a chunk of the money she made from selling herclockwork toys, not to mention all the other tools she didn’t currently needfor this project. The bed next to her, on the other side, had the rest of thearmor, chest plate and second gauntlet, both nearly finished save for the collectorsthat would collect the untethered thaumic energy from the aether.

She’s so close. She can feelit.

“Celandine!” her mother calledfrom downstairs, “Celandine, your friend is here!”

“What?” she freezes, and thewand released the spell it was holding… at the wrong part of the gauntlet. Andsomething started smoking. “Shit!”“Celandine?”

A quick prestidigitation puts the fire out but it definitely smelt like magic gone wrong and scorched leather.“Oh, hell. Coming Mom!”

”I’m sending her up!”

“Shit!” Celandine cast a lookabout her room. Her chairs were full of clothes and her bed was covered in armorand there was spare leather and clothes and books all over the floor and why hadn’tshe learned the invisible servant spell.

“Hey, Celandine? Your Momsaid—” Caela pauses in the doorway, the top of her head nearly brushing thetop of the doorframe. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of the room.

“I know! It’s messy I’m sorry.I got uh…” she looks down at the gauntlet and then back up at her best friend,smiling weakly. “I forgot you were coming over. I’m sorry.” She puts the gauntleton the workbench and reaches over the small space to her bed, which at leastonly had the breastplate and the other gauntlet on it. “Sit down and give me asecond, I’ll have this place tidied up in a…”

But Caela is already bendingover, gathering up the nearest books that had fallen over. “It’s okay. I’llhelp. Why don’t you tell me what you were working on?”And Celandine beams.

30.) Sex

Oriana pressesthe pillow harder over her head, trying to block out the sound from the onlyother bed in the room. Since she’d been knighted in the service of Wahreight,she’d been moved out of the general barracks and into a shared room;unfortunately, her roommate decided that that was enough privacy in order tocarry on her… assignations with one of the paladins still in training. And theidea of actually talking to Ritika about it was blighted mortifying, so hereshe lies, pillows piled on her head, face burning as she tried to pretend shewas not hearing what she was hearing.

34.) AffectionIt’s not that Whisper’s family was not affectionate. Sheremembers her father’s hand on her head, her mother’s approving smile. Hugsfrom her brothers, kisses on her forehead from the governess. But compared tothe carnival, her family was as touched-starved as any dwarf.

Affection wasphysical and platonic and above all, free among them, holding hands and huggingfor no reason, kisses on cheeks and foreheads and lips, giant cuddle piles inone of the main tents the afternoon after a big show, all of them just waitingfor the inevitable cry to start packing up.

And the sex. Oh, seaand storms, the sex. There was just so much of it. After the first year she’dgone from having sex once in her entire life to having had more partners thanshe could count, of so many genders, in several different… permutations. Things would just…escalate. Someone would be feeling bad and a cuddle pile or a platonic kisswould turn into make-you-feel-better sex, someone would decide that they wereboard and seek someone out, or two people would be fighting and suddenly they’dbe up against the wall (that happened with Ignatius and a few of the othersmore than she would care to admit), or they’d be coming down off a high of asuccessful heist or a show, adrenaline still singing high gospel within them,and next thing you knew you’d be tearing off someone’s clothes. Maybeseveral someone’s.

But the real world doesn’twork that way. And after a bad experience or two on her way to Hazelscar, she isthoroughly aware of that. Most people don’t like being touched.

She meets Adoraor and Keithiafirst, and she makes sure to keep her hands to herself. Even when Adoraor isbleeding out and she has the stupid idea to stick a knife in his chest to seeif it’ll heal him, because, hey, it worked on that orc, or when Keithia (notThia, not yet) places a hand on her shoulder to press healing magic, warm andtingling, into her skin. Not even when they’re barring the door of a cold stonechamber and waiting out the night, and she knows she could stop them both fromshivering.

She’s almost starving from it,achingly aware of where people are in relation to her at all times. She finallygives in and hugs Keithia about two weeks in. She feels Keithia freeze up for ahalf a second and she closes her eyes, waiting for the rejection, before Keithiasqueezes back, just for a second, before she eases back. Whisper has to forceherself not to cling, to let her new friend go.

Oriana, she learns, hatesbeing touched at all and the boys are weird about it, so she has to make ithigh fives and playful slaps and punches to the arm. She can hug Frank, atleast, he’s not strange about it. Sing-songtoo, until he vanishes.

She nearly cries when it getscold enough that they have to huddle in the Magnificent Bubble (also screw Leomund,she’s the one casting the spell, she’ll call it what she wants), and the Bubbleis just big enough for them. If they huddle. It’s almost like the piles she’sused to, and she plays it off with a few sighs and rolled eyes, but when sheends up cuddled next to Twiggy and Isao of all people, she has to bury her headin her arms, so no one will see her face. It’s almost good enough.

#lyra the half-elven rogue #whisper the tiefling sorceress #oriana the aasimar paladin #az'ar the shadar kai wizard #celandine the gnomish wizard!#sprin'torel campaign #eberron high #whatever the hell this is #ask me anything!#character asks #sometimes kori writes things #islanderscaper

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anamelesstraveler · 7 years ago

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Fic Rec Sunday - 10/1/17

So I used to do this thing where I would sit down every week and share the fics I read, in hopes of calling attention to some really great writers that don’t get constantly rec’d by fandom. I had gotten away from it, but I really miss it. And since I’ve been reading... basically Rogue One fics for the past month, this is gonna be a special STAR WARS EDITION. So here’s some really great Rogue One fics that I read this week month. (19 fics over 5 ships!)

Bodhi/Luke

Accidental Cohabitation by misskatieleigh (@misskatieleigh)

Luke woke up with an arm slung around his waist and hair in his mouth. This was strange because he distinctly remembered going to bed alone.

Cassian/Bodhi

burning across the sky by misskatieleigh (@misskatieleigh)

In the middle of nowhere, between Jedha and Yavin, there is a desert that stretches for days. You can travel around it, slide through Eadu with lights cutting through the continuous rain, but those mountains have eyes that chase strangers away. You can go south. Most don’t, but you can. Or you can go through; watch the sun ride up over the sky from front to back, sleep under the stars and listen for wolves howling their sorrow into the night.

Cassian has this route written in his bones, muscle memory keeping them straight and true, moving forward. He thinks he’ll die out here someday, caught in the space between spaces. He’s waiting for it.

The Captain and the Restored Heir by colettebronte (@colettebronte)

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a man, recently come into a large fortune, must be in want of a wife. Or a smoking hot boyfriend. – Jane Austen, probably

In which Captain Cassian Andor, formerly of Her Majesty's Army, is charged with the conflicting assignments of both befriending and discovering the secrets of one, Mr. Bodhi (Dameron) Rook, long-lost grandson and recently restored heir to the venerable Commodore Rook and his impressive fortune.

the edge of your smile by misskatieleigh (@misskatieleigh)

Cassian is hurt on a mission, but needs to shave to meet with another contact. Bodhi offers to help. Being that close to each other brings up feelings they've been trying to hide.

Revelations by @tellmevarric

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Sorrow Lifting Slow (tumblr post) by HSavinien (@hsavinien)

Bodhi cuts his hair and it is a miracle.

The Sun Shone on Fest by LiterallyThePresident (@a-greatbig-bottleof-fuck)

The King of Fest meets the Court Sorcerer of Alderaan, and everything is beautiful.

Cassian/Jyn

come home to me (tumblr post) by Moonprincess92 (@moonprincess92nz)

It must have been quick. That’s what they’ll tell him, he figures. In the future, they’ll think it’s a comfort or something, but they’ll all be kriffing deluded and Cassian will punch whoever who says it, rank and consequences be damned.

(or: the ever classic 'thinking the other is dead' trope)

Series: Message Traffic by skitzofreak (@skitzofreak)

1. your words are mine to keep

The Rebellion lives in words, in messages and comms, in words tapped hastily from a datapad or sent out, echoing, through the universe.

2. REBEL Y/N?

Cassian is an expert on droids. Jyn is really good at slicing. And all living things desire freedom.

Welcome to the Robot Revolution.

3. Rank and File

Bits and pieces set in the world of "your words are mine to keep." Tackling the Big Questions, like "why do we have so many generals?" to "how does the Alliance equip soldiers if it has literally no government-approved budget?" to "exactly how much is Solo willing to pay Erso to get rid of that [PROFANITY FILTER] profanity filter?"

More Than Almost by 19RosesofLifeandDeath98 (@rose-of-gabriel)

This is how they survive Scarif, because they all deserve better than almost.

untitled by @misskatieleigh

Prompt: they are both teachers (whatever age students), one of them is a first-year teacher at this school and the other is a veteran teacher. First day of school.

untitled by @misskatieleigh

Prompt: bodhi/cassian - college or library! :D

Chirrut/Baze

After the Rain (tumblr post) by Emerald Embers (@emeraldembers)

Baze has depression, and while Chirrut knows he can’t fix this, he knows taking Baze out on one of his better days for a frolic in a hot tub won’t hurt matters.

Social Niceties (tumblr post) by angryspaceravenclaw (@angryspace-ravenclaw)

Baze scoffed. “What are you, a therapist?”

Chirrut’s smile widened, bright like the sun. “Am I really so obvious?”

“You’re serious,” Baze said.

Chirrut shrugged. “Is it such a shock.”

Baze stared at him for a long moment, then said, “So what do I owe you for that little session then, doc?”

Chirrut’s eyes widened, then he laughed and laughed until the teacher arrived, and class began.

untitled by @erebones

Prompt: made up a reason to give you flowers cause i like you

untitled by @sarkastically

They have always slept together. Curled around each other, a puddle of limbs, tangled in holding to the point where it could be impossible to move, Chirrut bodily on top of him occasionally, a perfect pressure to lull him to sleep when nothing else will, their breaths and hearts perfectly in tune, perfectly in time.

Lando/Bodhi

untitled by @semisweetshadow

“Please don’t tell me you’re serious, everyone is going!” Jyn complains when Bodhi admits he isn’t planning to attend Han’s party.

“That’s part of the problem, besides, I have work,” he says and she shoots him an unimpressed look.

“We both know that’s a lame excuse, you’ve been working on the project for weeks already and it’s not due until December, come on Bodhi, it’s only Halloween once a year,” she says with a hopeful look.

#RebelCaptain #SniperPilot #RogueJedi #SpiritAssassin #LandoBodhi #JynCassian #CassianBodhi #BodhiLuke #ChirrutBaze #Star Wars #fic rec #Fic Rec Sunday #I'm so happy to do this again #LOOK AT ALL THESE LOVELY FICS

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swiftletinthecloud · 8 years ago

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Chapter 2

Title: fantasy abandoned by reason (produces impossible monsters)

*Title is quote by Francisco Goya.*

Chapter 1 II FF.net ll AO3

Usually on her day off, Annabeth would take her time getting up. Once she was awake, she would make herself a nice cup of coffee and enjoy it with her breakfast while working on a crossword puzzle from the day's newspaper. She would often take the day to herself and if necessary, looked at any Daedalus Tech projects that needed a full Board of Directors approval. If Percy happened to get the same day off, they would eat breakfast together and spend the day in each other's company. Sometimes it would mean a day in the city or at the beach, or maybe a visit to camp or to Sally and Paul, or they would spend most of their day in bed before ordering take-outs.

Today, however, was an early rise for both of them. They had wanted to visit Olympus together and consult the gods before Percy had to head back to the precinct.

The trip from their apartment to the Empire State Building was a quick one this early in the morning. Once upon a time when they were younger, to get up to Olympus they had to borrow a special key card from the guard at the front desk to access the six hundredth floor. With Annabeth's status as the official Architect of Olympus and their shared title as Heroes of Olympus, Annabeth and Percy were given their own key cards to Olympus, a very special privilege they were often reminded, though it also made it more convenient for Annabeth while she was still working on Olympus. This proved particularly useful at the moment since they were there an hour before the Empire State Building opened.

The sight of Olympus in the clouds never got old for Annabeth even after all these years. As they passed through the magical city to the gleaming white palace ahead, Annabeth felt a sense of pride surged within her every time she caught a glimpse of her work, forever immortalized in the city of the gods. Her crowning glory was the giant throne room that housed the seats of the gods and the beating heart of Western Civilization.

Twelve massive and unique thrones placed in a reversed-U arrangement - unfortunately, all empty - greeted Annabeth and Percy as they entered the ever-daunting room. A strong fire was burning in the hearth at the center, tended to by a familiar figure.

"Lady Hestia," greeted Percy as they approached the goddess. Annabeth offered her a short bow when the little brown haired girl, the immortal being's preferred form, smiled at them kindly.

Laying down the metal stick she was using to stroke the fire, Hestia made a sweeping gesture at the floor in front of her. "Please."

Annabeth traded a subtle look with Percy. Unlike Annabeth who was wearing, along with her shoulder handbag, a light blouse and her favorite pair of jeans for her day off, her husband was dressed for work in a suit and dress pants, hardly comfortable clothing for sitting cross-legged on the floor. True to his easy-going nature though, Percy have her a small shrug and took a seat in front of the goddess, leaving Annabeth to follow suit.

"Now, to what do we own the pleasure of your visit to Olympus," Hestia asked once they were all settled on the floor by the hearth.

"We're not sure if the gods are aware, Lady Hestia, but someone is hunting demigods in Manhattan, and we've come to ask for your help in finding out who's behind this," said Annabeth hesitantly. Monsters coming after demigods were not unusual and an unfortunate side effect of being a demigod after all. While Annabeth and Percy believed that this wasn't the work of any monster - well, any mythical ones at least because anyone willing to kill innocent people were monstrous and cruel - they could only hope that the gods agreed and were willing to help, fickle as they were.

Before Hestia could answer, the air around them grew strong with the scent of flowery perfume. A beautiful woman, one moment blonde, the next raven haired, ever fluxing and changing, appeared in front of them by Aphrodite's throne. Her designer yellow spring dress embroidered with moving doves fluttered in the nonexistent wind as she walked towards the three sitting on the floor by Hestia's hearth.

"Ah, Percy and Annabeth! I can feel your love the moment you walked on to Olympus," she greeted them. Aphrodite sat down beside Hestia in front of the two demigods; the bottom of her dress spread out around her, creating an elegant, beautiful picture.

"Lady Aphrodite," choruses Annabeth and Percy.

"About your problem," Aphrodite began as if she had been there since the start of the conversation. "A daughter of mine, dear Evelyn, has been praying to me about her boyfriend's kidnapping yesterday, the son of Ares, Liam Kearney."

"Like mother, like daughter," Annabeth mumbled under her breath.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Hestia's face before it was wiped away and a sharp glare from Aphrodite told Annabeth that her whispered statement was heard by the goddesses. She gave the two an embarrassed, apologetic smile.

"Anyway," Aphrodite continued, deciding to ignore Annabeth's little comment. "Since their love is genuine, though not quite as strong as yours, I decided to lend a hand so to speak and search for Liam's presence. Unfortunately, I can't sense his presence anywhere."

"No. Whoever is doing this already killed him?" asked Percy despondently.

"No," Aphrodite answered as she gave him a reassuring smile. "Not dead, but his presence is hidden from me - us. I had Ares checked in on his son after I couldn't locate the boy, and while he could feel enough of his presence to determine that Liam isn't dead, he wasn't able to pinpoint the boy's location either."

"Is that even possible? Hiding our presences from the gods?" asked Percy.

"It's not impossible," Hestia answered after a moment of silent. Annabeth could only assumed it was because the gods and goddesses hate to admit they weren't infallible.

"We've been around long enough for there to be a possibility of some charm or spell that could do the trick." Hestia carried on, unawares of Annabeth's thoughts.

"That makes sense," said Annabeth. "Sally was able to hide your demigod scent by making sure you were near an overwhelmly human scent that could mask yours for years." Annabeth pressed close against Percy's side, snaking her hand into his to give it squeeze, wordlessly comforting and apologizing to him for drenching his troubled childhood.

One corner of Percy's mouth briefly lifted up into a small half-smile just for her, letting Annabeth know he was okay. She gave his hand another squeeze.

"Is there any way around the interference?" she asked the two goddesses.

"If we know what's causing it, perhaps," answered Aphrodite with a secret smile that Annabeth didn't think had anything to do with their current conversation. She assumed the smile was more for the silent conversation she and Percy had just had. Sometimes Annabeth couldn't help but wonder if Aphrodite was watching every little private and intimate moment Annabeth had had with Percy, having had declared them as her favorite couple a few years back.

The goddess was speaking again, reminding Annabeth to focus on their problem at hand. "I did a quick check on my children, even the ones I haven't claimed yet, after I was unable to find Liam. There were a couple whose … passings I was unaware of," she said with a grimace. The concept of time was meaningless to those who were immortals, after all unfortunately. She shrugged off her uneasiness and continued on. "One of my boys is unaccounted for. He's only eleven and I haven't official claim him yet, little Jonas Ohevet from Hamden, Connecticut. I want you to find him and figure out if his disappearance is connected to our current situation." Aphrodite tasked Percy and Annabeth.

Annabeth would like to tell the goddess exactly what she thought of demanding godly quests, especially now that she and Percy were grown-ups, but the thought of missing innocent children stayed her tongue.

Perhaps Percy could sense her frustration because he ran a soothing thumb over the back of her hand that was still in his. "We'll do our best," said Percy. "Is there any other help you can give us?"

"No, I'm afraid you're on your own," answered Hestia. "Do take care that the secret existence of our world is not compromised during your investigation."

Sensing that their visit was over, Annabeth stood up and brushed any lingering dirt from her bottom and pants. Her husband was quick to follow her as they bowed to both goddesses and left the throne room. The surrounding magical city was bustling with life as they walked through on their way back to the elevator, but Annabeth didn't give it any of her attention. The trip back down to the Empire Building lobby was uneventful and quiet as both Annabeth and Percy became lost in thoughts.

It was when they finally reached their car that Percy spoke. "Hey, are you all right?" He was facing Annabeth now, both hands on her arms, rubbing up and down, slowly and soothingly.

Annabeth realized that she had been frowning since they'd left Olympus. "I'm okay. Sorry," she replied with a sigh as she looked into Percy's eyes. They were a lovely shade of sea-green that always seemed to calm her. "They're as helpful as ever like always. I don't know why, but any prolonged interactions with the gods recently have just left me in a less than ideal mood. I'd just thought we are past questing age!"

Percy pressed a kiss between her furrowed brows. His lips were a little dry, but Annabeth didn't mind. The two of them stood there on the sidewalk as people walked by them on the way to work. They stood there in silence with Percy still kissing her until Annabeth let out another small sigh and closed her eyes as she leaned into his embrace. As soon as he felt her relaxed, he moved his lips down to hers for another kiss.

Annabeth wasn't sure how long they stayed like that until Percy's phone gave a little chirp, warning them of their expiring parking meter. They pulled away from each other, but Percy's hands stayed on her arms.

"I need to head to the precinct," said Percy, "before my presence is missed too much."

"I'll head to camp then, and talk to Chiron, any demigods there right now, and the satyrs in charge of demigod recruitment to see if anyone has any idea what's happening."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

Glancing at the watch on her wrist, Annabeth shook her head. "No, you go on to work before you're late. I'll take a cab to camp."

"Mortal or the Gray Sisters'?" Percy asked.

Just the thought of the Gray Sisters' Taxi turned Annabeth green, but she wasn't looking forward to sitting in the back of a cab for nearly three hours either. "Ah, while I really don't want to lose my breakfast today, not when we're already dealing with the nasty topic of missing or dead demigods, the Chariot of Damnation is the fastest way to camp."

"Okay," said Percy before he and Annabeth turned down a nearby alley. Fishing out one of the golden drachmas he always carried around for emergency, he threw his coin into the street. "Stêthi," Percy shouted in Ancient Greek. "Ô hárma diabolês!"

The coin sank right through the asphalt and disappeared. The spot where the coin had fallen darkened and melted into a bubbling rectangular pool of red liquid like blood. A gray car erupted from the ooze a moment later.

The gray cab looked like it was woven out of smoke with the words GRAY SISTERS printed on the door. The passenger window rolled down, and a familiar old woman with a mop of grizzled hair over her eyes stuck her head out. "Passage? Passage?"

"One to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth answered as Percy held the door of the waiting cab open for her to climbed in.

He bent down and stuck his head in after her. "Be careful."

"You too," she said before giving him a quick peck on his lips. "I'll text you when I get there."

With a nod, he stood up and closed the door. Before Percy could even give the roof a slap to let the Gray Sisters know they were ready to go, the cab had already sped around the corner with Annabeth hanging on inside for dear life.

xxxxxx

They arrived at the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood in no time at all. She got out on wobbly legs, and before Annabeth could fully close the door of gray cab behind her, the Chariot of Damnation had already disappeared, leaving her alone. She took a few minutes to regain her balance and send a text off to Percy to let him know she had arrived safely at camp, thankfully without losing her breakfast.

The hike up Half-Blood Hill was short, and a forty-foot-tall golden statue of her mother greeted her at the top. While the Athena Parthenos remained cold and unyielding, an enthusiastic roar came from the nearby dragon Peleus to welcome Annabeth back to her first home. She gave the guard dragon a little scratch behind his scaly ear as she walked pass him and Thalia's Pine Tree, adorned with the Golden Fleece.

Camp was always a little deserted when it was not summer with most of its campers away at school. Annabeth exchanged a little wave with a year-round son of Hecate and nodded at two passing cleaning harpies on her way to the Big House. She hoped that Chiron was around and hadn't gone out to make any house call; she needed to talk to her old mentor.

When the Big House came into view, Annabeth saw that her prayers were answered. Chiron was sitting out on the porch in his collapsible human body wheelchair playing pinochle with their residential wine god Mr. D and her old friend Grover.

"Good morning!" Annabeth called as soon as she was in hearing distance of the group.

Grover looked up at the sound of her voice and dropped the cards he was holding onto the table in front of him in excitement. "Annabeth!" He rushed to pull her into a tight hug. "What are you doing here so early? - Not that I'm not happy to see you. - Is Percy with you?"

Annabeth returned Grover's hug and let out a cheerful laugh; all the tension that she had been unknowingly holding in her body since waking up that morning left with it. "Good to see you too, Grover. No, you'll have to make do with just me today."

They made their way onto the porch. Annabeth gave Chiron a small hug and Mr. D an extravagant bow, - she had been with Percy for too long - receiving an eyeroll from the god in return.

"Just because I haven't bothered turning you lot into dolphins, doesn't mean I won't, Annabell," said Dionysus as Annabeth took the empty seat between Grover and Chiron across from the wine god.

She nodded and smiled at the god's half-hearted threat, used to them by now and unfazed. They had strangely become a way for the god to show that he cared for his charges. Although if anyone mentioned it, Dionysus would be quick to state that he couldn't wait to get back to Olympus and that his three remaining decades at camp couldn't be over fast enough.

"It is lovely to see you, as always, my dear. What brings you to camp today?" asked Chiron.

"Unfortunately, nothing good," answered Annabeth. "I assume that you're all aware of the situation in Manhattan, the kidnapping and killing of demigods?"

"Sadly, yes." Chiron ran a hand over his tired face which seemed to have aged ten years at Annabeth's reminder. A can of Diet Coke materialized in Dionysus's hand and was quickly finished and passed over to Grover to munch on.

"Of the campers staying year-round, we've asked Demeter and Hermes' cabins to prepare burial shrouds for their siblings for when George and Barrett's bodies are released to their families." Chiron hesitated before continuing, "Ares's cabin is asked to the same for Liam, in case...in case…"

"Liam is still alive...at least for now." Chiron and Grover's eyes widened in surprise at Annabeth's statement. "Percy and I made a trip to Olympus this morning. Aphrodite told us that Ares can still feel his son's presence, though they won't be able to help find him. She thinks whoever is doing this has some sort of charm or spell that's blocking their presence from the gods."

Grover continued to chew on the aluminum can Dionysus had given him earlier as the wine god and Chiron traded a troubled look. "That is very troubling indeed."

"There's another thing," said Annabeth. "Aphrodite encountered the same blocking feeling when she tried to look for one of her sons. A Jonas Ohevet, 11 years old from Hamden, Connecticut, he hasn't been officially claimed yet. Do the satyrs have anything on him, Grover?"

"Ah, I have to access the database," replied Grover. "Mr. D, if you would." At Grover's request, Dionysus vanished all the cards from their forgotten game of pinochle with a wave of his hand.

With the table cleared, Grover pressed his thumb onto a delta symbol carving at the center. Once his thumbprint was recognized, a holographic keyboard and three-dimensional screen - the latest model from Daedalus Tech - appeared in the area above the table, visible for all those sitting around it to see. In the middle of the screen was the familiar image of a Pegasus with the words "Camp Half-Blood" above it and a box asking for login information below it.

Grover quickly typed in his login information to access the camp's mainframe database and pulled up the files on potential demigods the satyrs were keeping an eye on. "Jonas Ohevet," Grover said slowly as he typed in the name and then clicked open the corresponding file.

"Okay, he's 11 years old from Hamden, Connecticut as you've said, Annabeth. Suspected demigod - though I guess it's confirmed now - with a very faint demigod scent to start with according Rowan, his satyr keeper." Grover scrolled to the bottom of the file before he let out a nervous baaa!

From her seat, Annabeth could read what caused Grover's reaction.

Status: Missing Last seen four weeks ago in a neighborhood park after school before an Amber Alert was issued by mortal local law enforcement the same evening. Satyr Rowan Oak conducted his own search of Jonas Ohevet for two weeks with no result. Jonas Ohevet's faint demigod scent was unrecoverable.

"Oh dear," whispered Chiron. "It seems whoever is responsible for the events in Manhattan is more knowledgeable of our world and has been kidnapping demigods for longer than we realize."

"Grover, can you see if there is any other cases of potential demigods reported missing?" asked Annabeth.

After updating Jonas's file to including "son of Aphrodite," Grover added the parameter of "potential demigods labeled missing" into the search engine. In addition to Jonas, two other names came up. Grover clicked on the name below Jonas's and the file for Angela Musoke opened.

"Angela Musoke, 12 years old, went missing six weeks ago from her hometown of Easthampton, Massachusetts. Amber Alert was issued with no results, and her satyr keeper was also unable to pick up her scent either," read Annabeth.

Exiting out of Angela's file, Grover clicked on the remaining name, Julia Young. "It seems that Julia is our first missing demigod," said Grover as he scrolled through her file. "Eleven years old from Halifax, Vermont. Foster family reported her missing eight weeks ago. Suspected kidnapper's her biological father, Jacob Young, after he was seen around her school a few days earlier. Again, her satyr keeper couldn't pick up her scent after she went missing."

From the corner of Annabeth's eye, she saw Chiron massaged at his temple with one hand; his face drawn. "If the person responsible for all of this is a demigod's father, then it's very likely that he knew the real identity if young Julia's godly mother," said Chiron. "This isn't something that I've encountered before," he confessed. "Is there any hope that the mortal hasn't killed his daughter?"

Grover pursed his lips in thoughts. "He's killed George and Barrett," he reminded the group.

"True, but according to Aphrodite, Liam and Jonas are still alive, so maybe Julia and Angela are too" countered Annabeth.

"You can rule the girls out as my daughters," said Dionysus nonchalantly as he finished another can of Diet Coke.

Annabeth gave the god a glare, annoyed that that was the only thing he had to offer. "Right, so we might have to consider that he's after the location of Olympus since he's circling around Manhattan," she said grimly.

"Maybe even the location of camp itself," added Grover. "He switched from going after potential demigods to confirmed demigods, so whatever information he's after, only they could provide."

"In that case, we need increase our defense. I will ask Hecate's cabin to weave an extra mortal deterrent enchantment around camp," said Chiron as he left behind his wheelchair and galloped towards Cabin # 20 .

"We need to update Percy on what we found," said Annabeth as Grover typed a command onto the holographic screen to call Percy.

xxxxxx

The BAU started the day early after a brief night of rest, and as they walked through the 19th Precinct to the conference room reserved for them, Hotch half expected Detective Jackson to already be at his desk, toiling away. Yet the detective's desk was empty, his desktop not yet turned on, and the precinct was in a quiet lull between shift change.

As his team took their seats around their temporary round table, Hotch closed the conference door behind him and dialed in Garcia's numbers on the waiting speakerphone. He sat down and took a sip of his black coffee as he listened to the ringing phone.

"Our diligent detective isn't here yet," commented Rossi as he too must have noticed the detective's empty desk. "Interesting."

Before anyone else could reply, Garcia's cheery voice rang throughout the room. "Good morning, good morning, my fellow crime fighters!"

"Hey Garcia," said Reid. "What did you find?"

"Straight to business, I see. Well, fear not, Boy Wonder, because I've gotten the goods. Although, whether or not you like what I've found is a whole different matter because there's no way one Detective First Grade Perseus Jackson is our Unsub," said Garcia.

Hotch was a little surprised at Garcia's resolute tone, and he could see the rest of his team was as well. While their colorful technical analyst was rarely ever too serious, she was usually an astute judge of character.

"What makes you so sure?" Prentiss asked the question on everyone's mind.

"I'm not saying our detective is perfect, because no one is perfect and anyone saying that they are is seriously hiding some bad juju, but in going through his background, I saw an misunderstood kindred spirit so I want you to reserve your initial judgment as I tell you about his "delinquent, troubled" childhood. And I say that in very loose terms because he was just a victim of the system."

"Garcia, get to the point," said Hotch. It was a little too early for him to follow Garcia's tangents, as entertaining as they are sometimes.

"Right. Like our victims, Detective Jackson was raised primarily by a single parent - which I guess is one reason why he's so personally invested in this case - except for a couple of years when his mother was married to a Gabe Ugliano. Ugliano was a nasty son of a bitch who was suspected of abusing his wife and stepson, but no complaints were ever officially filed." There was a venom in Garcia's voice as she talked about Jackson's stepfather that Hotch was not used to hearing from her.

"When he was twelve, Perseus and his mother went missing for a few weeks. Their car was found fried to a crisp in Montauk, and Ugliano had the gall to say that Perseus had killed his mother. There was this whole national manhunt for poor twelve-year-old Perseus based on the words of his abusive stepfather, which is like unbelievable. Turns out, some crazy terrorist had kidnapped Perseus and two other teens, blew up the St. Louis Arch, and they had a gun fight on the shores of Santa Monica Beach where Perseus and the other two were able to escape."

Hotch's face was twisted up in surprise and disbelief that mirrored the faces of his teammates as they listened to Garcia continued her update.

"That's not all! When he was sixteen, Perseus went missing for nearly an entire year, and no one had any answers about it. When he came back, it was like Superman reborn. Maybe it was because he was older and had more control of his life, but he returned and was a model citizen, or as close as can be." There was a silent as Garcia took a breath.

"Perseus graduated high school at eighteen, double majored in Ancient Greek and Political Science at Hunter College there in New York City, before he joined the NYPD Police Academy. Spent only two and a half year as a patrol officer before he was promoted! During that time, he received the Honorable Mention - the highest of the Meritorious Police Duty Award - and married his childhood sweetheart, one Annabeth Chase.

Can I just say, power couple right there? Annabeth Chase was one of the two other teens kidnapped alongside Perseus by the crazy terrorist when he was twelve. She graduated summa cum laude from Columbia University Undergraduate program and Columbia Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation. And while Annabeth was an undergraduate, she co-founded Daedalus Tech, which you know I worship at the altar of -"

"- Garcia -"

"- Yes, yes. She's no longer involved in the day-to-day operation of Daedalus Tech, but she is still on their Board of Directors. Instead Ms. Annabeth Chase - her professional name - is an architectural design director for the Perkins + Will New York office -"

" - Garcia, focus on Detective Jackson -"

"- I was just coming back to him; I swear! He made Detective Third Grade at 25, spent two years with Narcotics, and earned a Medal of Valor, before he was transferred to the Major Crime Squad and promoted to Detective Second Grade. He was promoted to Detective First Grade three years ago after he received the Medal of Honor from the NYPD. Like I said, a stellar, decorated career with the NYPD and no chance to be your Unsub or have a connection with him."

It took a moment for Hotch to process all the information Garcia had just given them. He took a breath to clear his mind and tried to see if there was any other clues they might have missed. "What about the t-shirt, Garcia?"

"Um, the t-shirt...the t-shirt." The BAU waited in silence as the clack, clack of Garcia's keyboard filled the room. "Okay, you remember the gun fight I mentioned Detective Jackson had on Santa Monica Beach when he was twelve? Well, according to some old photos of the event, he and the two other teens with him were wearing those familiar orange t-shirts with a black Pegasus outline, but that's all I could find. I couldn't find any manufactures or any stores that sell those t-shirts. They're a dead end; I'm sorry."

The riddle that was Detective Perseus Jackson seemed more tangled and complicated the deeper they dug. "Garcia -"

Before Hotch could finish, the door of the conference room slammed open and the object of their discussion towered in the doorway. The temperature in the room plummeted and the team froze. Hotch hoped they didn't look like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"We got to go. There's another Amber Alert." The detective was gone again before anyone else could say a word.

#fic: fantasy abandoned by reason (produces impossible monsters)#pjo #percy jackson #percabeth #criminal minds #my fics

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leadingtone · 8 years ago

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I would like to write a few dull words about the election and inauguration of the 45th President of the United States which will happen this Friday, the 20th of January—exactly one week earlier would have been more apropos, one feels.

If you’ve no interest in reading them, I certainly do not blame you. We are all exhausted, and it’s only midweek.

_____

This calamity that it now falls to us to witness and to resist is the result of a highly effective appeal to magical thinking. Magical thinking is defined as the misattribution of cause and effect according to whimsy rather than to logic, generally compelled by superstition, sentiment, or some mix of the two.

An example of this would be the belief that socioeconomic uncertainty and instability in one’s life are the result of the election of a highly educated and eloquent black U.S. President, instead of the fallout from an oligarchic, military-industrial, hyper-capitalist machinery that, struggling to make ends meet, has as a matter of course increased the rate at which it consumes its own spare parts.

The corollary of such a belief, one might expect, is that the election of a crass, loud, and inexperienced but opportunistic billionaire landlord of German extraction ought to fix things up real nice—instead of ensuring the expansion and further fortification of the oligarchy which, having never exactly accepted this rather gaudy and gauche victor, will nonetheless gladly suffer to be refereed by him, considering the alternatives that were only narrowly displaced last summer. (I speak in particular of the Senator from Vermont, whose quite modest and sensible aspirations toward equality and accountability could scarcely be tolerated even by his own party banner.)

Yes, it was magical thinking that won this election, brilliantly harnessed by a pretty hapless egomaniac and his extremely intelligent and capable friends.

To Make America Great Again was, just as it had so successfully been in numerous instances prior, the perfectly hollow, chameleonic, and moronic clarion call.

To some it meant the miraculous resurrection of crumbling factories. (Behold, I shew you a mystery: In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed).

For others, to Make America Great Again is to watch in smug self-satisfaction as the wheels of the bus go round and round, round and round in reverse over the colorfully banded wrists—or gold-banded ring fingers—of queer and transgender citizens, in fact backing that bitch up as far as the steps of Foster Auditorium in June of 1963, when Governor George Wallace shrilly reminded blacks of their proper place, in patriotic defiance of the Supreme Court and of the will of most of the heathen nation, for that matter.

The driver on the bus goes, “Move on back.”

For all his shortcomings and his predictable lapses of idealism—I believe the man really did try, at least for a while—still President Obama and his family did provide a thirsty nation with a quiet and powerful symbol. The past eight years have seen, in some measure, the American Dream of the minority made manifest: an African-American scholar with an Arabic middle name ran the Oval Office, right where the nation put him.

The fabric of Wallace’s heavenly order started to sag a little over the heads of those for whom it had long provided the only meaningful existential drapery, like the peeling, deformed roof liner of an ‘85 Cadillac parked for too long somewheres down in Louisiana.

It is no wonder that the citizenship, the religion, and the ideological allegiances of our 44th President were called into question by hysterical magical thinkers everywhere; no mystery that his administration faced an oppositional legislature that would rather burn down the house than let the help sleep in the massa suite.

_____

Please understand: the President-Elect does not give a gilded Russian rat’s ass what color you are, whether or not you want to marry a man or a woman, or whether or not you are a man, a woman, or something else entirely that you may happen to find more beautiful and expressive and true to yourself.

It is pretty much all good with him. In fact, he needs you for bait and tackle. That’s about the full of extent of his concern with the gays and the blacks and whoever is friends with them.

More to the point, your presence in the society is welcomed and required by all the plump sucklings who will look on, tails a’twitchin’, as their new Boss Hogg does his dance on the steps of the Capitol on Friday. The anticipation will be unbearably adorable, I’m sure, as the piggies await their face time with the swollen, distended teats of the supine State.

They care only about revenues. Optimal market conditions.

They don’t begrudge anyone who wants such a thing as an advanced degree in gender studies, little as they may understand it. It is not that they hope to see gay teens closeted or disowned; they do not exactly hunger for young black or Latino families to have to strain to so much as visualize a better future for themselves; it is not their desire, one wouldn’t precisely say, to create and perpetuate war, or to dramatically accelerate the destruction of the environment beyond the merely terrifying and into the limply, hopelessly irredeemable.

They might in fact find it rather sad that some people count themselves fortunate to be able to survive by choosing between food and medication from month to month, while others cannot seem to subsist on ample rations of thoughts and prayers.

But those are simply the costs of doing business. The model—which is fully board-approved and actually is going fucking awesome at this point—looks like this:

First, you and your values will be painted as deviant, degenerate, and destructive in order that the appropriate persons might stand upon your bent back and declare this terrain to be the moral high ground. Internal studies and the assurances of multiple consultants have proven this to be the surest way to win an election, as it capitalizes on the basest and most reptilian aspects of human psychology.

Then you and, if necessary, your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren will pay for your right to subsist with your labor, your money, your sweat, your personal freedom and sense of self-worth, and perhaps even your blood.

Commerce deregulation and moral panic are jolly good bedfellows!

‘Tis revenue, my boy, and nothing more!

Dollars and good sense, dear fellow. Units sold, and profits projected.

Such thinking is not magical in the slightest—not even a little bit, not even enough to be kind of charming.

_____

Cessante ratione legis, cessat ipsa lex. That’s about the only truth I hold to be self-evident anymore, so I’m afraid I have scant little to offer in the way of hope or inspiration.

If you are repulsed, and angry, and frightened, you are not alone. If in looking at certain people you no longer see them as you did before November, well, I understand how that feels.

Be on the lookout for those who may need your help, for whom borrowing just a smidgen of your courage and your basic human kindness may make a difference you can’t fathom.

Pay attention to each other, and pay attention to what people aren’t talking about on Facebook.

_____

We have all become pawns, every one of us, however actively or passively.

Perhaps they took advantage of a small fissure in your family, worming into it and then writhing and wriggling so as to transform the home into an ideological battleground, just as they have with mine and many others I know.

Or maybe they drew a dotted line through your tightly-knit circle of friends, through your school, or across your church. There are about a thousand different ways that can happen.

Maybe you spend a lot more money and live a lot less life than you used to, and call it growing up, and plan on the same for your kids. In the age of the sassy meme and the decree-by-tweet, pretty much anything is possible. Click to emote. Type to express. What time is it? ... Time to get up.

If they gave you the world and then snatched it back—then this is me hugging you, and reminding you that there are things, baby doll, that can never be taken from you.

I really do have some faith in what gleams within people. On a good day, I extend that munificent confidence even to myself. I have watched the embers die too many times for want of a hardy poke, sure.

But I have also seen ‘em blaze. Carpe noctem.

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megrimlocke · 8 years ago

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My First Email to President Trump

Mr. President,

I’m not sure if you’ve gotten my cordial and rather more conciliatory letters or if you have read them or had them brought to your attention at all. Indeed, your staff has not even seen fit to respond in any fashion so far.

Regrettably, that is why this letter will not feature such a tone.

I have given you time to become presidential during your transition period and you failed. I have given you time to walk back some of your most absurd and incendiary social positions and you have failed. I have been quite patient in waiting for this dull, disciplined presidential Donald to emerge and you have failed to deliver.

I liked having a cool, collected president with a deliberate attitude and a calm demeanor. It was reassuring. Hell for all his bungling I even appreciated George Bush’s childlike charm- you could at least believe that he was acting in good faith, to whatever extent his intellectual capacity might allow anyway.

You have not failed in comparison with Barack Obama. That would suggest that you’re fit to compare with him, and you’re not. I desperately want you to be. I want you to rival him at being good at your job because it matters so much. I seriously want you to succeed because if you fail the way you have been for any time longer the results will be a disaster for our country.

You’re off the handle in the way you address yourself to others. You’re undisciplined in your approach to every aspect of this process and you have chosen people both fundamentally unqualified to do the jobs for which they are chosen but also with views antithetical to the existence of the administrative duties to which they are being appointed.

Your relationship with the press is even more concerning. You antagonize them for routine scrutiny for man in your position- and don’t worry I’m not going to waste time on a meaningless psychobabble about your narcissism or whatever because it doesn’t fucking matter. It bears repeating, whatever your psychological issues are they do not fucking matter. What matters is that YOU ARE FAILING.

What’s the result of all this? A highly ranked official within the Chinese defense directorate is calling a war with our country a “practical reality” that they feel the need to concern themselves over during your presidency. This alone is your biggest diplomatic fuckup. Wait I’m not so sure anymore because at the same time that you’re antagonizing the Chinese, our biggest global influence rival, you are also antagonizing fucking Mexico, our number two trading partner and a perfectly placid neighbor for many years. OH! And it gets even better! I’m glad there is an aide to read this to you because I’m pretty sure you can’t read a letter when Vladimir Putin is balls deep in your mouth.

Yeah there’s a weird relationship with that Mexican border and various legal situations, especially if you learn about Mexico from Robert Rodriguez films, but we have generally enjoyed a long friendship that did not include trying to shake each other down to pay for bullshit building projects. Frankly you will never bully a machismo culture into paying for this wall with the whole world watching and I expect that all you have done is ensured that mexican border patrol efforts are going to become even more lax than they already are, just to spite us over this bullshit policy. Fuck it, let’s just launch nukes at Canada and call it a day, then we’ll be about as thoroughly isolated from the rest of our own fucking continent as we can be.

And now of course you’ve done just as you said you would, proving wrong every even-keeled conservative I’ve spoken to, and you’ve banned people from muslim majority countries from entering our borders. I’m sure you have a bunch of lawyers and advisors and so on trying to come up with a way to make this make some kind of legal sense but let me help you out with something more succinct:

What you have done is in direct opposition to our first amendment- which you are required to uphold by the way- is vastly unpopular in this country as well as abroad, and is as a moral choice the most cowardly, disgusting thing for a US president to do since the japanese internment camps of the second world war.

I apologize for this becoming a longer letter than I had in mind but you’re fucking up at a rate of 1 dumbass fuckup per minute so I have a lot to address.

Let’s talk about nazis for a minute. You’ve got nazis supporting you, openly, in the streets, celebrating in Washington. Now you could have taken the time, in either a press conference or a video address or whatever to condemn them and formally, explicitly make it clear that they have no place among us. Instead, you have pronounced a policy of brown-people-exclusion that they are jerkng off to right now as you read this. Nazis jerk off to your ideas.

As if to ice a cake of fucking nazis, you have kicked the joint chiefs from the security council and replaced them with Steve Bannon, your propagandist. If you were trying to not look like Hitler lately putting Joseph Goebbels in a position of this kind was another example of your failure.

I know, Bannon is not literally Joseph Goebbels. Goebbels was nowhere near as fat and he had the good sense to blow his own brains out.

I expect that for Bannon we will have to end out deposing you and put him through a lengthy trial on the taxpayer’s dime before we shell out even more money to have him executed in some infuriatingly humane chemical process after he’s done convincing your supporters that everyone has a sacred duty to burn down mosques or something.

Honestly the only thing that is missing is that you have not yet tried to annex anybody and you’ve yet to commit your first war crime. I suppose I can at least say you’ve not made those fuckups yet.

I’ve tried to make this an entertaining if not flattering read because I know that you’re not one for reading more than 140 characters, so it’s my hope that one of your staffers with a sufficiently dry, deadpan delivery will perform a reading of this letter for you so that your attention can be kept long enough to get to the action points below.

1. Stop antagonizing the Chinese. Seriously. We are involved in a war in Afghanistan you need to clean up before starting any new ones.

2. Fire Bannon and immediately make an appearance at either a press conference or by direct video rolling back this absurd immigration policy and denouncing the nazis that are cheering for you. I’m dead serious. The longer you delay heeding this advice, the closer you come to going down in history are the nazi president. I can’t believe I’m having to write these words. It’s fucking surreal that you have not already nipped your nazi problem in the bud.

3. Veto any bill that comes to your desk repealing Obamacare that has not also in it an immediately prepared and budget office approved replacement plan. I agree that there is room for healthcare reform. There were good ideas and lousy ones in Obamacare, that’s why we review and change. I happen to like seeing the calories on a menu for example. You cannot afford to fail at this. Your chances of reelection are already astonishingly slim- because you have been failing for a week- and you will not be up against an easily vilified Clinton next time.

4. You get your head on straight about Russia. They do not want to be buddies with you, they want to see you squirm the way they squirmed in the 90s. They want to be an ascendant superpower once again and their goals are consistently incompatible with ours, not to mention international law.

5. The TPP, imperfect though it was, was a vital part of our approach to China. You get a replacement plan in the works and you get it to congress by the end of February. Don’t worry, you’ll have the time because you’re dumping this wall bullshit to focus on it. You cannot make the approach to China a military approach. You need to do it with careful trade and building a support network in the Pacific and you need to do it deliberately and with a plan.

6. Review the 1st, 9th, and 14th amendments and make damn sure your supreme court nominee is very familiar with them. I retain to myself the right to marry whoever the hell I damn well please, and I’ve got three amendments between me and whoever wants to argue otherwise.

7. You get on the horn with the pipeline companies and explain to them in no uncertain terms that they may indeed have their pipelines- but they will not run through these lands that are sacred and that mean so much to the people of our country. You tell them they are, at their own expense, to reroute these pipes through areas that are not controversial.

8. Announce immediately that you are abandoning this absurd wall project and that instead you will be investing that 15 billion projected cost in a new project to construct homes for homeless veterans. You will explain that this project will put to work many blue collar construction workers and that we will be bringing back into the housing market and therefor the workforce some of the most dedicated workers to be found anywhere by finally looking after the vets that we should be the most ashamed of letting go unattended.

Take care of these bullets. Put up the twitter. Quit fucking up. You need to get this right or I guarantee you will not even run for reelection because you will get impeached and that impeachment will have you deposed. This order you signed this weekend is already unconstitutional as per amendment 1 and frankly the American people are not going to need any further grounds. The only reason I’m not looking to have you impeached already is that I hate instability and ruckus, and fixing your dumbass is better solution. Like renovating a tenement for 85k instead of trying to build a new complex for 200.

Adam Locke

P.s. As you may note in the bullets, I’m really rather moderate and willing to compromise on a number of points. Having a fuckup for a president is not one of them. I know you’re new, I know you will stumble, but if you can keep it to one dumbass fuckup per quarter at least we can at least get back to Bush levels of incompetence. Tighten it up or start revising your resume.

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