roughly 650-700 hours in, and I just went through Gale's resurrection protocol for the very first time, on my tactician playthrough, and man....

...... it'll be incredibly difficult to make Mara's a Karlach romance.

not because I wouldn't actually want to romance her (GOD I wanna do it so bad), but my girl, she just.... has a mind of her own. and that mind, it's so, so very conflicted. and full of so many holes. her brain? not even like Swiss cheese, but moreso like some sort of weird fizzy drink, just... bubbling away in there.

everyone is so mean to her. even though she's trying so hard to be nice, everyone seems to either treat her like a curiosity ("oh, we rarely see your kind up here!") or spit the word "drow" as if it was a slur (even though she's only kind of aware of what that even really means), when trying to share her concerns most just dismiss her off the cuff, and Gale... god, Gale is just so icredibly NICE to her in comparison.

He explains everything so patiently. His approval of her is by far the highest, he says things like "excellent question! :D", even praises her, shares little personal anecdotes without prompting (it's not like he holds information behind a paywall of favors, or like you have to pull each and every word from between his teeth with pliers like some others), and even though he didn't understand why and/or grasp the magnitude of the compulsion, he seemed to kind of... at least understand that she's concerned???? instead of blowing her off completely and handwaving it away???? And, and, when he can't answer a question (because it's about a secret, or personal, or whatever), he doesn't get angry, or disapprove, or make her feel like she violated his privacy by simply asking, only says "sorry, can't tell you that right now, but in due time. :)".

he's just.... head in my fucking hands, of course she'd feel incredibly drawn to him from the first goddamn moment, he's like basically the first person who's been genuinely kind to- and understanding of her (even before the tadpole, tbqh), and all that without ulterior motives, or assuming that she's dangerous, stupid, or evil. (even if he probably should have assumed that, on that latter part.)

how and why do i keep making characters who all fall at least a little bit in love with Gale Fucking Dekarios of Waterdeep

(I swear to fucking god nobody dare answer that :c)

(side note, frankly I'm baffled on how many dialogue options there are that let you say shit that amounts more or less to “uuuughhh bringing you back to life was SUUUCH a chore. be glad i didn't sell your stupid scroll, dick”, but none where you can say something like “Gale!!!! Gods, are you alright!!!! You died!!!!!! You're back!!!!!! I was so worried for you!!!!!!!! Of course I brought you back, wtf!!!!!!!!”.

I'd also have liked one to just.... start crying, tbqh.

it would have made sense for Mara specifically, to go through the instructions and the protocols with as intense a panicked focus as she can manage [no easy task, with a thick blueberry shake for brains], and as he's thanking her, and tapping himself to reconfirm that he's corporeal, to just.... start bawling. and to crumple into his arms. Like, he's her friend!!!! her good friend Gale, whom she had known all of three days!!!!!!! he died!!!! and now he's alive!!!!! omg that was so scary; don't do that again you silly man!!!!!!)

(babygirl was so rattled, she even got the mephit's name wrong like twice. no it wasn't me being a dumbass, i was in character, shush.)

BNHA/MHA X READER (GIANTS AND TINIES): CHAPTER 5 - (Giant Deku x Y/N) Baby Bird

Info--------------------

Y/N- Age: 16, Hight: 5’7”, Gender: female, Quirk: Dark Phoenix, Affiliation: none

AU- Fantasy/Mythology AU, Fantasy fluff

Relationship background: You are a young Phoenix girl living a struggling life in your beautiful village set a drift on a cluster of floating islands, secluded in the clouds. Deku is a gentle giant with a deep respect and love for everything that flies.

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

It was midnight and everything in the village of Antikorrho seemed to be silent and peaceful despite the soft whistle of the strong breeze hoisting them through the sky. Though regardless of how things appeared, all was not silent, nor was it peaceful, and a life was in grave danger.

Her name was (Y/N) (L/N), she was no older than roughly sixteen years of age, and if she didn't hurry in a silent fashion, then odds were she wouldn't grow any more than that.

On cautious feet the youth darted between the numberless, quaint little homes clustered neatly on the formation of floating islands that drifted aimlessly along the skyline; each one seeming to hold a safe and happy family... something she lacked. Scared but determined eyes scanned the area around her before she made her next move. She was almost home free. If she could avoid the keen eyes of her unseen pursuer, then she would be able to get away from her village, but most importantly the one Phoenix-kind who had single handedly beaten, terrorized and hurt her her entire life, the one she should have been able to turn to for love and support, he who had betrayed her.

As she ran across the cobbled path to the edge of the main isle, she mustered up all the courage she could for what she was about to do next. (Y/N) had never attempted an escape before, and if this failed, well- she'd prefer not to go any further into that thought, but if she didn't she knew it'd be the end of the line for her.

Faster than she could have liked, the rocky, jagged ledge approached. The frightened harpy could feel the doubt creeping in swiftly, almost as fast as the upcoming drop, and in spite of her aching muscles, she pumped her legs harder, bare feet rocketing her forward with each step. There was no going back.

She jumped.

The trembling wings on the girl's back unfolded and caught the air in her hesitation, though she quickly tucked them back to her body, allowing herself to dive again toward the ocean of clouds below. The barrier beneath her served but one purpose, to keep Phoenix-borns from crossing to the undersky. It was a forbidden land that supposedly stretched beyond what the eye could see, a whole other world full of strange and diverse creatures. To go below the clouds was considered suicide as no one who did ever came back, but (Y/N) knew full well that it was the same to stay. So, stuck between a rock and a hard place, she opted to take her chances with the supposed world below the mist.

She didn't care to look up, not wanting to know whether or not he was following, only forcing herself to focus on what was ahead whilst she plunged through the swirling vapor. 

After falling for what felt like quite some time she emerged on the other side of the foggy veil. Below her was far more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. Despite the dark cloak of the evening she could easily make out rolling hills and jagged mountains peppered and sprayed with large trees and an occasional river. Excitedly now, (Y/N) stretched her iridescent purple wings out; enjoying the feeling of the wings tickling her as it laced and weaved between feathers and outstretched fingers.

As she surveyed her new realm, it dawned her that she had made it, she was free! What she would do with this freedom she still didn't know, she hadn't really gotten that far but that could all be settled later; it didn't stop the uncontrollable, overwhelming happiness bubbling up in her chest any less. For now it seemed she should find a good place to rest and hide till morning. There was obviously a reason people didn't return, she should still tread with caution.

The harpy then glided down to land on one of the tall pines that stretched up amongst others, the tip on which she perched bending ever so slightly to her weight before slowing to a soft sway. Fluttering her wings uneasily for a brief moment she tucked them to her back before looking about for a good safe place to seek shelter.

Looking about she was able to spot a strange hole in the mountain side emitting light. It looked to be the mouth of a cave, and the light from inside was dim but steady, enticing the curious escapee to come closer. So, with a powerful beat of her wings, she rose into the air once again before gliding down to the strange and inviting glimmer.

Upon reaching it she slowed her descent with fluttering feathers before touching softly onto the cold stone surface. The rock under her feet was smooth, and so were the other seemingly carved, gigantic boulders lining the entrance. Even more curious now than before, (Y/N) crept silently and cautiously forward. The entrance wasn't all that long, and immediately after there was a large drop.

Whatever was in the ginormous cavity, she couldn't see, save the singular, gigantic lantern that lay on a smooth surface a good ways ahead and below. Taking another look back at the way she had come in and the chilly night air outside, she debated on checking it out. Finally giving in to her impulses rather than her better judgement, (Y/N) glided down to the tall source of light. The surface she and it stood on appeared to be made of wood,  though she could figure nothing else about where she was. The lantern was warm nonetheless, and she was tired as the adrenaline from the night's events subsided. Maybe, just maybe, she'd sleep here... but just for tonight!!!! Tomorrow morning she'd wake up early  and get going.

Satisfied with her doomed self promise, the little harpy curled her wings around her as she bundled by the warm flame that burnt steadily on, lulling her into a soft, much needed sleep.

Deku awoke to the soft glow of sunrise lighting his bedroom alongside the ever changing song nature sung as it slowly awoke. Smiling softly, the giant sluggishly squirmed out of the clearly homemade, but cozy bed he had been resting in prior. It was a new day and he didn't really have any plans other than to simply relax, especially because over the week he had made sure to account for his chores and tasks so he could have the day to himself.

Straightening his room, the behemoth wasted no time in dawdling or idling about. As soon as the small, stone room was tidy, Deku skipped out and into another simple but quaint room he used as a kitchen. Much like the rest of the home, the walls were clearly that of some sort of cave, rough and jagged walls majestically running up to an equally uneven ceiling. Hand made furnishings of rustic wood and occasional scrap metal were placed about in a complementary fashion. Deku cut a warm slice of bread from the loaf he had baked just the night before, grabbed a large fruit and sat down at a simple wooden table to eat. Before he could even take the first bite, something on the table right in front of him caught his eye.

Lying by his burnt out lantern on the table was a wadded up ball of feathers that looked like some tiny critter crawled in and died. Panic stricken, the behemoth boy slid his food to the side to swiftly snatch up the fallen fluff ball to inspect it.

Tenderly taking the limp form in his hands, he began running careful fingers across its small and delicate body, trying to figure out what it was and just how bad of condition it was in. Now that he had the motionless thing spread in his hands, he was able to see that it was a minuscule person; a tiny lady with birdlike feet and purplish raven wings jutting from between her shoulder blades and similar tail feathers pluming from her lower back and under her shirt. Countless scrapes, cuts, and bruises adorned her skin, some fairly fresh, others faded into scars.

The greenete looked at the little angel with pity, poor thing looked like it had been to hell and back. Was it even still alive?? He wondered to himself as he turned the unconscious bird in his hands one last time. He could have sworn her eyes tiredly rolled open for a split second, but they were closed again before he could check. One thing was for sure, he should find out before he jumped to any other conclusions. Deku then tentatively held her up to his ear where he tried to listen for some sort of heartbeat or possible breathing. Still unable to hear anything, he gently pressed her up against himself, making a soft thumping audible.

The giant let out a relieved sigh as he set the little woman down back on the table. He wasn't sure when she'd wake up, but until she did he'd be patient and ready to tend to her should she need anything. And with that, he quickly finished his breakfast, setting aside a chunk of bread and a piece of fruit, for when she awoke, and placed them down nearby.

(Y/N) awoke well into the morning, she looked about, confused and disoriented, until she could recall what had happened the previous evening. Suddenly remembering, her eyes opened a little more and she quickly sat up.

Looking around, she quickly came to realize that the cave was far bigger than she had initially thought and that the floor did seem to be made of wood, though much of the place's structure and makeup lacked any sense to her.

Shaking the sleep from her still tired body, (Y/N) stretched and rubbed her eyes before she noticed the food beside her. "Woah!" She startled, not entirely sure she remembered it being there the night before. Carefully, she sniffed it, still slightly hesitant on what to do about it. The bread was easily as big as her head, and the fruit slice was definitely her height at least, if not, then taller. It looked as if it had been intentionally placed there, for her, and given that she had not had a good meal in far too long, the tempting offer was more than she could resist. Scooting closer, the Phoenix-kind ripped off a piece of the bread and tasted it. YUM!! Her eyes widened as the fluffy still warm dough met her tongue, and she swiftly took to scarfing the rest of it down.

After eating as much as she could without popping, the harpy girl lied back down satisfied as she allowed the food to settle. Looking up at the rough, stone ceiling, she studied it, eventually leading her to slowly prop herself up on her elbows, still looking about at the strange cavity. Come to think of it, the place looked kinda like a house- but- Ten times bigger... Wait-

(Y/N) pushed herself into a standing position. Looking around more, she rubbed her eyes. 'Was she dreaming?! It really did look as if she were standing in a gigantic house!!' More intrigued now than before, the Phoenix-born ran to the table's edge, scanning the room intently. If this was a giant house then surely its owner was of equal proportions. Then she saw him.

Sitting across the enormous room at a simple desk was the giant. He was easily 45-50ft tall, about 1371.6-1524cm tall if she had to guess. Surprisingly enough he actually looked to be about her age with soft, kind features, large green eyes, and matching curly hair. He sat hunched over a leather-bound journal and a number of large books.

Opening up her glimmering wings she took to the air before darting to a high shelf just above the desk where she dove behind a towering potted plant. She sat there for a brief moment, trying to calm her racing heart before peeking out and down at the behemoth. He didn't seem phased!! Whatever he was doing, he was into it! Cautiously once more, she fluttered down to the desk where she perched on a stack of closed books.

Still no response.

Whatever the green haired goliath was invested in doing must have been interesting, only furthering young (Y/N)'s desire to know. So, carefully, she climbed down the numerous volumes before dropping onto the smooth spruce. Then, with slow and sure steps, the winged youth crept forward till the tips of her toes brushed the thick leaves of the journal he sketched and wrote in. By some miracle it seemed he still didn't notice her, though it honestly didn't surprise her given that his nose was practically pressed to the paper, his thick pine green brows furrowed in his concentration.

(Y/N) began craning her neck to try and glimpse at what exactly he was doing, though she couldn't quite make out the difference between one thick pencil stroke and another. Not satisfied with this, she inched around his moving arms and hands. Once or twice he'd glance away from the book to study a page from another, causing the girl's heart to stop. Regardless, he never noticed her and would soon return his intense gaze to his work.

With a few chary steps she soon had her back to his stomach. His bent over form towered above her, quite literally as he moved and shifted, messing around with the items in front of him, still painfully oblivious to the little visitor who was now doing a study of her own, observing the illegible notes he had written. Though what really attracted her attention was the pictures that were drawn. decorating the parchment were countless and various sketches of her.

"Woah.." She let the appraised whisper slip from her mouth. Why were there so many drawings of her!? They were so good!! And what did the writing beside it say!? Wait- It was then that (Y/N) noticed that the enormous hands to the sides of her had stopped working and scribbling about, held motionlessly to the page. Her heart skipped a beat as she whirled to glance up before it stumbled and plummeted. Staring up, her eyes met with an equally wide but far larger pair, gazing back down with something that was nothing short of astonishment; a look she knew too well.

Quickly the boy realized he had better say something or risk her running off before cheering in a language she didn't understand, though his joyful tone and warm smile otherwise implied he meant no harm. "H-Huh??" The phoenix-born asked, flinching as he began to slowly move. The giant sat back and against the back of his chair, giving the small angel some room before trying another incomprehensible phrase that sounded like another language. Still unable to make out what he wanted she cocked her head though she didn't ease up at all, wings quivering as if ready to launch her through the air.

Furrowing his brows, Deku tried another... and another, and another and another. He seemed to be filtering through languages until he spoke one she was able to understand. "Do you speak Flackofain??" He inquired, finally finding something she could comprehend. It wasn't her native tongue, but it was one she was fluid in.

Flackofa were a type of friendly and sociable bird folk that lived nomadic and merchant lives, exploring the under sky and selling its goods to other winged beings above the clouds. They often set up their shops on tall mountain caps that broke the ocean of mist separating the two. Once or twice she had even managed to sneak away and attend some of their bazaars and auctions.

(Y/N) perked up immediately upon hearing a language she could understand. "Yeah!! I do!!" She chirped, straightening herself. "How did you learn it!?!" She inquired now immensely curious as to how he knew. The giant was equally pleased with his accomplishment, bringing his fists in excited little balls up to his chest. "I know them!! I actually trade with the Flackofa a lot, I'm very good friend's with their chief and many of their people!! One named Kacchan doesn't like me much though..." He laughed at his added comment. "Really!? That's amazing!! What are you anyway!?" The winged youth inquired, earning another warm snicker from her new companion. "I'm a behemoth!!" "Behemoth??" "We're better known as giants..." He scratched his neck, "Sorry I use a lot of big words..." Deku added his apology. "It's ok!! I don't mind!!" the girl giggled.

"What about you!? You don't look like any angel or harpy I've seen..." He commented, to which she enthusiastically answered, "I'm a phoenix-born!!" This response quickly got the giant excited, "WAIT FOR REAL!? A REAL PHOENIX?!" He inquired eagerly, swiftly bending down to be eye level with her, hands gripping the edge of the table with equal energy. (Y/N) startled, stumbling backwards a smidge, not expecting such a dramatic reaction. "Y-yeah!! Why?"

The giant quickly sat back up and against the back of his chair again, running his hands through his shaggy, messy mop of hair. "Well, no one ever sees your kind, not after the War of Worlds!! You guys have never come below the clouds since, so I just can't believe i finally get to meet a real phoenix born!!!" He guffawed, hands still plastered to his head, pinning the fluffy green tufts back.

The girl blinked in confusion, "War?? What war??" she didn't remember anything of the sort. "The War of Worlds?? The great war of your people against the elves and dwarves??" Izuku continued, "You've never heard of it??" "N-no...?." She drew out her reply. "Somewhere around 350 years ago your people had a conflict with the elves, there are lots of different accounts of what the conflict was but one thing stays the same, things went south. The elves called upon the dwarves for assistance and after a long battle that cost your people half their population, you guys went to a group of mages known as the Everskys and asked them to conjure up some sky islands to retreat to." He explains, "You guys swore you would return one day, far far into the future and take back what the elves had supposedly stolen from you, but until then you'd lurk in the mist." he finished, giving her a look as if he expected his little history lecture to spark some sort of hidden memory in her.

(Y/N) just stared, trying to comprehend the enormous load of information she had just been hit with. As weird and foreign the idea sounded, the story actually fit well with a lot of her culture and how the under sky was forbidden. "I- I have never heard this story..." The harpy girl admitted. "Really?! Then why don't you guys come down??" "We just know that it's forbidden, supposedly filled with strange and wondrous creatures who want only to rip us to shreds." The giant looked shocked by her answer. "Then why are you down here!?" He inquired with wide, curious eyes. The winged youth's demeanor became downcast and solemn, though bitterness laced her words, "I had to get away... I couldn't stay there anymore..." She spat quietly, eyes on the table beneath her.

Deku's expression softened as he found himself pitting the little angel. "Hey, hey! It's ok now! You escaped, and you found me!! I'll help keep you safe if you like!! I promise that I won't let anything hurt you okay?? Cheer up!!" Tentatively, he reached a singular finger forward to lift her chin gently to look at him. As her gaze met his, he gave her a warm, welcoming smile.

(Y/N) could feel her face light aglow, how could she refuse, she did come down here looking for a home didn't she?? "Yeah, I'd like that!"

A request for: AnimeMemeGoddess

I am sososososososo sorry this is so late!!! I meant to have this done around early June but then I went on a family vaca, had four different relatives I haven't seen in years at my house and now I'm moving like- tomorrow, and I've had a friend who's been struggling so I've been trying to be there for him as he is getting through some tough times right now!! Not to mention I rewrote this story at least five times!! So I really hope you like it!! I put a lot of love and effort into making sure it was perfect!! ALSO THIS IS NEW, BUT I'VE STATED THAT YOU CAN NOW ASK ME TO DO SEQUELS TO PREVIOUS ONE SHOTS!!!! MEANING IF YOU REALLY LIKE A SPECIFIC SCENARIO, YOU CAN GET A PART TWO AND SO ON!!!

Up next: ( ∆ requested, Ω inspiration)

∆~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - Dynamight!? More like Firecracker!!!

∆~ Shoto x Tiny YN - Baby It's Cold Outside

∆~ Giant Shinso x YN - Forest Spirits

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Crown Jewel

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Hickery Dickery Dock

Ω~ Bakugo x Tiny YN - Pest Control is For Pests

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - The Prize Fish

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - Baby Shark

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Big Bad Wolf

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Peter Rabbit

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - He's A Pop-Rockin Pixie

Ω~ Tiny Kirishima x YN - Dragon, not Lizard

Ω~ Deku x Tiny YN - The Innocence of a Child

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - I Fear No Man... But That Thing.... Scares Me

Ω~ Tiny Kirishima x YN - Crossing Worlds

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - A Figment of Imagination

Ω~ Tint Deku x YN - Shoulder Angel

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x YN - GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT!!!!!!!!!

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - One Heck of a Softy

Ω~ Deku x Giant YN - A Pure Soul

Ω~ Kirishima x Giant YN - Snakes Are Very Manly, Very Manly Indeed

Ω~ Giant Deku x YN - ~Blep~

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - Red on Black, Poison Lack

Ω~ Kirishima x Tiny Y/N - Feeding the Fish

Ω~ Tiny Deku x Y/N - Tamagotchi

Ω~ Bakugo x Tiny Y/N - An Exotic Edition to the Family

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x Y/N - Monsters Among Us

Ω~ Deku x Giant Y/N - A Diamond in the Rough

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x Y/N - The Duke of Goliathoria

Ω~ Giant Bakugo x Y/N - Hidden

Ω~ Giant Deku x Y/N - Gulliver's Travels

Ω~ Kirishima x Giant Y/N - Turned Tides

Let me know if you guys want some of these sooner than others, I will count it as a request and add it to queue, right now they are in the order of request to inspiration. Requests willl come before inspiration.

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This is my art and story, please do not repost or trace without my permission, feel free to reblog though, thanks!!!

Character huh? Seeing as we know the least about him, Saraj.

***

Wait.

What happened last night?

Suraj opened his eyes to a bleary view of a pearly blue ceiling. A sniff of the air told him told him he was in Aquacia though, admittedly, the potent scent of saltwater colliding with pristine freshwater was overtaken the slightest bit by the scent of sex in the room he was in.

“Wha – Ah, shit...” He sat up with a hand to his head, right between his horns and careful of his claws. Already with the hangover? “What did I do last night?”

From his left, the curvy body of a white-haired lamia girl slithered up close. “Mm..? What'sss wrong, baby?”

Suraj yawned, trying to reacquaint his addled mind with the fangs in his mouth, “Nothing, I--”

“Is everything alright?” That came from the mink-beastfolk girl on his right: her sleek black fur catching the room's limited light.

Suraj gave a slow nod, “Yeah, I'm --”

From behind the rakshasa, a dullahan held her head over his shoulder. “Did you need a little 'hair of the dog'?”

“No, no,” Suraj shook his head, “I just --”

From underneath the covers, right between Suraj's legs, a twink of an orc peeked out and grinned, “You wanna go one more time? For the road?”

Suraj only groaned again: memories of the previous night meshing with the post-orgy regret and the morning-after hangover.

Suraj, cleaned and showered, stumbled out of the hotel room. As fine as he looked, with everything cleaned, brushed, and swept, he was still being done up the ass sans lube from his hangover.

“Bye~!” The lamia, beastfolk girl, dullahan, and orc coquettishly waved him off as he spread those bat-like wings and started on his way.

Fuck, but the sounds of Aquacia's many waterways didn't do anything for his pounding head or his sour mouth. He huffed and kept flapping. “Wait, wait, wait!” He dragged to a stop in mid-air and fished around his pockets for something. “Come on... Come on!” It was a miracle he had made it this far without an incident. His entire body relaxed upon feeling them. In quick, practice motions he placed one in each ear and immediately felt at ease when all noise was snuffed out. “Okay.” He nodded, waiting for a large amphithere to sweep through the skies so he could catch the jet-stream it produced. Whatever he could do to make his trip to the ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis boundary-line, the better it would be for him.

There were certain... aspects to life in Dama Fristad that nonhumans knew about and embraced in silence while humans ignored and feigned their nonexistence. These aspects were typically in harder to reach venues of the six districts. If one really wanted to enjoy their wares, then they knew the ordeals they were putting themselves through.

The ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis boundary-line was such an ordeal. Suraj slowed his flight to a hover when he got close. Vines. Thick, corded, writhing. Some covered in thorns sharper than knives; others dotted in blooms that puffed out clouds of silvery pollen that, upon making contact with a beetle that had wandered too close, began to dissolve the creature's flesh instantly.

If it weren't for this hangover, Suraj would have just said 'fuck it' and headed back to 1685 Blightblossom Lane. As it was, the rakshasa counted under his breath, “Forty-seven. Forty-six.”

The vines wound themselves tighter.

“Twenty-five. Twenty-four.”

With a tilt of the head, one could make out the remains of some poor bastard who had wandered too close.

“Nine. Eight.”

Suraj feinted backwards from the giant blossom that surged out from the walls of vines: pollen and sap dripping from its fanged petals. Suraj took a deep breath. “Two... One.”

The blossom reared back and screeched into the air. Suraj was doubly thankful for the buds in his ears that were blocking all noise, both pleasant and harsh. Once the din subsided, the blossom opened itself up so wide that Suraj was able to see what lay upon the other side. He streaked forward, making it through in one swift go before the blossom could recollect itself and the vines could tighten back up.

Suraj heaved and panted. “I hate that wall.” He shook his head and kept flying. Not much further now. He could see it from where he was: aged walls of brick with layers of uneven paint, orange-tinted windows, and a simple shade covering the door.

Inside of this small restaurant, an old Yaksha was wiping down the counter: the demon's green skin sweaty from a rough morning of chasing inventory. He smoothed down the curls of his golden beard, waggling his claw in a goofy way as he walked past the window. He had almost past it completely when he noticed Suraj outside.

He blinked.

And then doubled-back to the counter where a radio was playing. He promptly cut it off.

Suraj let out a sigh of relief and removed the buds from his ears before walking in: the tile warm against his talons.

“Suraj!” The yaksha's claws clicked over the tiles as he walked around the corner to meet the young rakshasa in a bruising hug.

“Lohith.” Suraj winced from the loud noise and the fact that his hangover hadn't gone anywhere, “Kaise ho?”

“Eh.” Lohith hopped back behind the counter, “Business is slow so early in the mornings. It's usually when I go to the Halls of Judgments and Repence for the auctions, but I'm still full up from last week.”

Suraj sat on a stool, striped tail swishing lazily. “Things'll pick up, I'm sure. Like right now – Ah!” He held his head and grit his interlocking fangs together. Lohith hummed,

“Ah, I know that sound. You young people and your partying... Well, Lohith's Khed Rogan Josh will knock it right out of you!”

That's what Suraj was hoping to hear. He was still wincing from the headache but, when he looked up from his claws, he saw a rosy cup of Lassi in front of him. Suraj picked up the frosty glass and knocked some back: the taste of banana, yogurt, various spices, and blood washing over his forked tongue. He set the glass down in favor of looking at his phone.

Did he hear the horrific screams from the kitchen? The wet thud of a butcher's knife into flesh? Smell the sizzling fat melding with curry and ginger and other melodic spices? Of course.

“They're already calling me into work?” Suraj groaned, “Come on...”

Was he really in the mood for a bunch of old harpies who didn't understand what an area-code was?

“Ah..! Here we are!” Lohith came out of the kitchen carrying a tray laden with steaming rice, fresh naan bread, and a hearty bowl of fiery spice in the form of braised chunks of meat and a thick stew made from kashmiri, garlic, and ginger.

Suraj waited for the tray to be set in front of him. “You are a lifesaver, Lohith.”

“Eh.” Lohith shrugged, “Lifesaver, lifetaker; it all comes round to each other. Go on: eat!”

The rakshasa rolled his eyes but he picked up a spoon to ladle some of the Khed Rogan Josh onto the plate of rice. He got a hearty spoonful and pressed it past his lips. Oh. Oh, there it was. What was it about the flesh of humans that allowed for their final, greatest emotions to sweeten or spice them to that unlatched perfection?

Khed Rogan Josh... Regret Rogan Josh. Suraj tore a piece of naan and nibbled at it in-between bites of his main meal. Thankfully enough, though, with every bite that he took, he felt his pounding head and his sour mouth recede further and further into the abyss.

Suraj glanced into the kitchen. Lohith had stolen away to wash his claws: thin streaks of fading red leeching into the bowl of the sink.

Suraj shrugged and kept eating.

He did have to think, though... What came first in the grand dance? Nonhumans eating humans for pleasure and health? Or nonhumans eating humans in retaliation?

And, yet, for every hunter or anti-nonhumanite who would look at Suraj there, eating the braised flesh of a human, and call for the death of all nonhumans... Surely there was a witch who yearned for humanity's decline after the Witch's Winter? Or a dragon who bore the scars of the Great Dragon Exodus?

Suraj shook his head and returned to his food. He was just one creature in this wide, chaotic world. Why was he thinking on heavy topics like that? Nay, he should be thinking about what made him drink so much last night. Not to mention what made him so ready and willing to jump into bed with a horny quartet.

“Damn it,” He sighed, “I don't even remember who came first.” Suraj took another bite. The assortment of spices in both his food and the lassi reminded him of home, th –

Oh.

Right.

He didn't have a home anymore.

Suraj closed his eyes, chewing around his latest mouthfullllllllllllll of fire! Everything was burning! He saw everything on fire, but he couldn't stop. Even with all of the shouts around him, he just! Couldn't! Stop!

Suraj stole a breath and came back to the present.

He looked around himself. Restaurant. ShimmerGale/Ignis Fanis divide. The Khed Rogan Josh. Suraj pinched the bridge of his nose, slowing his chewing to a crawl.

If it weren't for his shift later, he would go back to whatever bar had managed to dull his memories and senses last night.

Lionheart’s Interactive KiriBaku Twitter Thread

Pro Heroes, Bed-Sharing, Fake Dating, Quirk Accident

Rating: T (for swearing & canon-typical violence)

At the end of each Twitter update was an overnight poll where our followers got to decide the direction of the plot or details about story elements!

Feel free to reply with your thoughts, predictions, or desires, and Head Mod ET and Social Media Mod Belle will do our best to incorporate your ideas! This is a thank you and a way for us all to collaborate together until application responses are sent out on April 5th.

🧡❤️💥⚙️💥❤️🧡

Three buildings were on fire, and it wasn’t Bakugou’s fault.

Blackened smokestacks billowed above the Tokyo cityscape as he and Kirishima raced toward the scene. Bakugou took to the skies while his partner swerved between sedans and work trucks parked bumper-to-bumper on the roadway. Bakugou’s boots skid on the rough gravel of rooftops as he blasted from one to the next, his scorching propellant warping the air behind him, leaving trails of Schlieren lines in his wake.

He crouched on the edge of a four-story building above the battle, glimpses of a hero battle raging beneath the haze of ash and concrete dust. Heroes with water-based quirks tried and failed to mitigate the damage of six gangly beams of red-hot light.

“Riot, you got eyes?” he asked into his earpiece.

“Not directly on the prize, but I’m getting intel now! Are you seeing how the beams flicker in and out?”

“Yeah. Probably low level of quirk control or erratic mentality. Or both.”

“The team leader on the ground says the villain’s in a donut hole of concrete. Rubble’s piled up on all sides, so no one can get to him.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Amateurs.” The villain probably got himself cornered in a pit of fallen debris and figured he could wait it out or cause enough damage to try to make a run for it. “Shock Diamond, then.”

“Now?! Finally?! Hell yeah, let's go!"

Bakugou felt the heat of the lasers as one shaved the side of his building. He sneered at the heroes doing a piss-poor job of containment and checked behind him for the extent of the damage. A singed line gouged into the wall of a parking garage, but it stopped with a blunted tip before it speared the next building. The lasers didn’t seem to work like Aoyama’s — they could only extend so far.

Not made out of light, then. Kiri will be fine.

Not that he was worried about his partner. Kirishima could handle himself.

Even if Bakugou did pack the idiot a lunch every day and nudge him to go to bed when he fell asleep on the couch. And bought him cold medicine when he stayed out late walking Mirko’s seventy-eight-year-old receptionist home on dark, rainy nights. And bleached and dyed his roots when they started growing out.

But he wasn’t worried. The fact that the beams must be a form of slow-moving energy just gave them a tactical advantage. It had nothing to do with the fact that Kirishima’s hardening was more sensitive to concentrated light attacks yet the hero would bulldoze his way in front of them anyway.

The idiot’s voice rang through Bakugou’s earpiece. “Greenlight, Dynamight!”

“No matter how many times you say it, the rhyme doesn’t get any catchier.” Like a swimmer, he gripped the edge of the roof, rose halfway from his crouch, and dove into the pool of ash and smoke head-first. 

Catching the current mid-air, he soared closer to where Kirishima was probably charging into the fray. Bakugou used the familiar shock of red hair as his signal and dropped feet-first, sending down a counterblast to stick the landing. 

As Dynamight set himself up directly behind Red Riot, they charged the villain in a single-file line. 

Without missing a beat, Kirishima extended his arms behind him at the same time Bakugou pushed his chest into the other man’s back. Kirishima’s arms locked onto Bakugou’s sides.

Bakugou tucked his chin, extended his hands behind him, and sent out a blinding explosion.

They rocketed forward — an unbreakable wall and a ballistic force. The perfect offense and defense. Explosion and Hardening. 

Dynamight and Red Riot: Shock Diamond.

As they smashed through the rubble, the devastating strength of Red Riot’s quirk wracked through Bakugou’s body, but Kirishima held him tightly against his back. The shock waves cleared from Bakugou’s spine, and he jumped into the rapidly-clearing fog of smoke and dust.

His eyes widened. He whipped his head from side to side. He stopped, listened.

The pit was empty.

Meeting his partner’s eyes, Bakugou could only think of one thing to say. “What the fuck?!”

But Red Riot was similarly dumbfounded, his brows furrowed and jaw hanging slack, glancing around the center of the crater.

Bakugou kicked at a fallen pebble, its mere presence offensive in the heat of his frustration. 

“Dynamight! Red Riot!” An aged hero with a sky blue costume ran toward them, waving his arms in ridiculous circles and spraying arcs of water through the air. “Good work out there!”

“We didn’t do shit! We just busted through a wall!”

"What Bakugou means to say is 'thank you', sir!”

“Well, the guy’s a problem for tomorrow’s heroes now. I’ve sent a team to scout the perimeter, and the police have his mugshot and quirk info. Another group is putting out the last of the fires. We’re lucky it’s a weekend — no one in those office buildings meant no casualties.” The older hero jiggled and sloshed as he rested his hands on his service belt, the edges of his existence just barely see-through as his costume molded to his mutation quirk. “For now, we need you two to handle some of the media coverage while we start to get a section of road opened back up.”

“No problem! Leave it to us!”

Flubber strode off, his boots leaving wet footprints on the asphalt.

Bakugou turned to his partner. “No.”

"Hey— where are you going?! You can't just leave the press to me all the time!"

Huffing, Bakugou slipped through an unblocked alleyway, brushing concrete crumbs off his shoulders as he took deep breaths. Normally he would feel some semblance of guilt about leaving a crime scene or abandoning Kirishima to fend off the harpies on his own, but the villain did escape. Bakugou might as well join the search of the perimeter.

A sharp scream had his feet slapping the pavement before his brain caught up.

Rounding the corner of an office park, the street opened up to allow for a municipal park one block long and one wide. Amidst swing sets and jungle gyms stood a proud maple tree. In one of its branches clung a girl no more than six years old.

Below her, a group of parents huddled in a crescent moon around the trunk, some gawking, some enjoying the entertainment, and others consoling one woman in the center of it all. Bakugou made a beeline for her.

She jumped at the hulking form of a grenade-adorned hero. He never tried very hard to work on his public image.

“Oh, Dynamight.” The whites of the woman’s eyes gaped in surprise, and she looked back and forth between the imposing hero and the girl high up in the tree. “She just— She feels more secure when she’s up high, and she got scared by all the noise and the lights, so she climbed into the tree, but now she can’t get back down and she’s too high for me to reach her, and I can’t climb up—”

“Stop.” The woman snapped her teeth closed with a click. “I’ll get her down.”

She didn’t look especially reassured. Shit. What would Kirishima do? Probably flash a smile and bang his fists together or some other cute-ass Kirishima-ism. Bakugou gave her a closed-mouth smile and a stiff pat on the shoulder instead. That’ll do.

Grasping a branch with one hand and placing the flat of his boot on the trunk, he hoisted himself into the tree. He climbed higher and higher, wary of the thinning branches. When he couldn’t fit on the remaining limbs, he lifted his arms out for the girl.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back to your mom.” His voice was soft, low, and practiced. The girl eyed him warily, but after catching a glimpse of her mom below, shuffled into Bakugou’s hold. “Good job. Just hold on to me like you did to the branch, okay?”

She nodded against his shoulder, and he began his climb back down.

“What’s your name?”

“Matatabi,” she mumbled.

“What were you doin’ that high up?”

“Wanted to catch it.”

He frowned, wondering what it was, but they had reached the bottom and he had reached his patience quota for the day. Especially when the girl threw a fit in his arms, hissing and wiggling, and pushing and scratching at him. “Oi!” He dropped her, and she scurried to her mom, leaving him with whiplash and three welts on his bicep.

“Oh. Oh, dear.” The mother looked like she was about to confess to murder. Great. “Did she scratch you?”

No shit. “Yes, but it’s completely understandable.”

“Ah, awe, thank you—” at least he got a smile out of that one “—but, um, there may be a bit of an issue?” Of course there is. “She seems to activate her quirk when she scratches or bites.” She grimaced, floundering for her next words.

He took a deep breath. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. “It’s fine. What should I expect with the effects?”

“Um. Cat?”

He blinked. “Cat?”

She nodded. “Cat.”

“Dynamight!”

They both looked up then to Red Riot’s jogging figure, dust and cement billowing behind his ass cape. 

“Everything alri-oh.” Kirishima was staring somewhere above Bakugou’s forehead, his mouth formed in the perfect ‘O’ shape.

“What are you looking at?!”

“Ears.”

Bakugou’s stomach fell into his butt. “What?”

“Bro… ears. You have… ears.”

“No.”

“Dude they look so soft.” Slow hands lifted higher and higher, above Bakugou’s face up to the top of his head. “Can I just—”

Bakugou slapped his hands away. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed.

Kirishima chortled— chortled! — and turned to the mother of the tree climbing, cat nabbing daughter.

Bakugou watched the exchange with clenched fists.

“I’m so sorry!” She bowed low, almost tipping her kid onto the ground. “Is she in trouble?”

“No, no!” Kirishima smiled at them. They seeped into it like a warm blanket on a cold day. “We’ll just get your contact information in case we have any further questions about the quirk—”

A sharp pain stung both of Bakugou’s palms. He hissed and checked his hands, tuning out the rest of Kirishima’s mediation.

Claws. He had ears and claws.

Well, at least he had another weapon now — that was pretty cool, actually. As soon as the thought passed through his head, the claws retracted into his nail beds, leaving behind his normal, blunt nails.

He felt his ears droop to the side of his head.

“So… do you want to head back to the agency?”

He looked up at his partner, giving him his best baleful glare with the ears and all. Kirishima just snorted. “There’s no way in Hell I’m going back there like this.”

“Awe, but you could be our new office mascot.” He reached forward to pet Bakugou’s ear again. He was unsuccessful. “Alright, alright,” he laughed, pulling out his phone, “let’s call Mirko and get our next orders, then.” The ringer blasted loud and clear, Kirishima holding his phone in selfie-mode.

“You little shit! She doesn’t need to see!”

They played a game of impromptu tag until their boss picked up. She, of course, immediately burst into guffaws of laughter. 

Bakugou was so ready for today to be over.

“Hey, boss! What, uh— What do you suggest we do here with uh, Cat...kugou?”

“I’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“Hell if I know, I’ve never needed flea prevention.” Bakugou balked. “Take him to the vet, I guess!”

“Yessir!” Kirishima hung up before Bakugou could even process the words that just came out of his boss’s mouth.

“I am not—” he huffed “—going—” huff “—to the fucking VET!”

🧡❤️💥⚙️💥❤️🧡

If All Might himself had told Bakugou that hero life would involve sitting on a metal exam table in a veterinarian’s office, he wouldn’t believe a word of it. Not because it was impossible. Just because Bakugou would never get himself into that kind of situation.

He craned his neck back, glaring at his reflection in the operating mirror hanging from the ceiling. Two ash blond ears twitched back at him.

He sighed, crossing his arms and adjusting his seat on the hard metal. If I grow a tail, I’m gonna scream.

After what felt like hours of waiting, twitching, and reading pamphlets about “What to do if you have a fat cat,” the vet finally strode through the door, Kirishima hot on her heels.

She turned, frowning. “Oh, I’m so sorry — I know you’re hero partners, but technically the exam room is family only."

Bakugou’s eyes flicked to Kirishima. His partner met his desperate glare head-on.

Beauty in Strength

Hey hey, here’s that Witcher fic, the scar-tracing idea came from @inconveniently-placed-cactus​. I hope y’all enjoy

(Also, I know Foltest's sister that had the striga child was named Adda and I don't think they ever said so in show/book (but who knows I have a bad memory lol), BUT if you play Witcher 1 you meet that striga girl again, a young woman now, and Foltest had creepily chosen to name her Adda as well. So that's why it's "Adda's scar" in the fic, instead of just "the scar from the striga girl." Also, she's nuts, lol. Tried to have me killed lol)

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship(s): Geraskier (Geralt/Jaskier)

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Geralt/Ler!Jaskier

Word Count: 2271 words

Summary: Jaskier's found a new game: brushing against scars and asking after them. If only it wasn't so ticklish when he did so.

[ao3 link]

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

The first touch startled Geralt.

He had stepped out of the bath and into his small clothes and had sat on the bed to dig through his bag for something at least somewhat clean (or, at least, not currently soaked in harpy guts and goop) when he heard Jaskier shuffle up behind him. He assumed the bard was simply preparing for bed himself, so he paid little mind to the sounds and the shifting of the bed. He very nearly lunged for his sword at the first feather-light touch on his shoulder, against an old scar.

“What’s this one from?” Jaskier said gently.

Geralt settled his nerves and cleared his throat. “Don’t know if I recall.”

“Come, now,” Jaskier said, a playful lilt to his for-once quiet voice. “Surely you must remember.”

His fingers traced around the raised skin before gently dancing along it, and continued to repeat that pattern. Geralt found the room suddenly oddly warm and was grateful, not for the first time, for the fact that witchers were unable to blush. There was also an odd fluttering feeling in his stomach that he knew he must’ve felt once or twice, what felt like lifetimes ago, but no longer had the name to describe.

“Must I?” Geralt asked, finally pulling a shirt from his bag.

Jaskier huffed and Geralt knew he was discontent. His fingers vanished briefly from his shoulder, but reappeared at the back of his ribs, tracing three long, raised scars. Geralt had to hold his breath to keep in his gasp, but he couldn’t stop the involuntary twitch of his skin under Jaskier’s ministrations. He fumbled and dropped the shirt.

“What about this one?”

Geralt cleared his throat again, worried he’d be unable to speak if he didn’t. “Werewolf. Few years back.”

Jaskier hummed. He dragged a single finger around each claw mark before laying his fingers over them in the shape of a claw once more and dragging his hand back and forth, back and forth. Geralt’s breath was coming out in quiet puffs and if Jaskier continued in that spot, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control himself. The urge to squirm, to give in and chuckle, was becoming overwhelming.

Luckily, Jaskier seemed satisfied with the information he got and his hand lifted from the scar. His hand then touched down low down on his back, just behind his hip, and Geralt couldn’t help the minute flinch at the unknowingly teasing touch. Jaskier traced the circular scar (mostly circular, at least. Nothing healed that perfectly) before spiralling into the center with a single finger, then spiralling back out.

“Kikimore,” Geralt said without being prompted, figuring the faster he spoke the faster Jaskier would move on and give him another brief moment to rebuild his defenses.

“There are different kinds, right?” Jaskier asked, not moving on.

Geralt tried to take a deep breath, but it kept puffing out. He locked his joints in place so as to not squirm and give himself away. “Yes. Workers, warriors, and the queen.”

Jaskier placed all his fingers in the center of the scar and slowly dragged them outwards to the edges, then repeated the motion going inwards. Geralt couldn’t help but gasp and jerk at that, one hand making an aborted movement to reach back and pull Jaskier away while the other went up to hover over his mouth in case he needed to muffle any more sounds.

“Which one did this?” Jaskier asked, a grin evident in his voice.

Geralt inwardly cursed. Jaskier knew exactly what he was doing.

“A-a warrior,” he managed, having to bring his hand away from his mouth to speak.

The hand granted him a brief moment of mercy, but not nearly long enough. It touched down again against his shoulder blade, a series of old puncture wounds. The fingers on the hand spread out so as to touch each of them and nails scratched gently at the centers.

“And here?”

Geralt took a shaky breath and resisted the urge to roll his shoulders. “Harpy. Like today.”

“How’d it do that?” Jaskier punctuated the question with a particularly sharp scratch that had Geralt gasping again, back arching.

“Got it’s talons into me and tried to fly off.”

Jaskier hummed sympathetically, taking a single finger to trace around each raised, uneven oval individually. “I assume it didn’t manage, or these would be much larger.”

Geralt hummed shakily, lungs spasming with repressed titters -- witchers didn’t titter.

Geralt tried not to jump as Jaskier’s head hooked over his shoulder, hands snaking around to hug him around his middle. Palms flat, they rubbed up and down his torso for a few moments and Geralt foolishly allowed himself to relax, even though he knew it wasn’t over.

Jaskier started out easy, a thin line on his pectoral. It wasn’t too terribly ticklish, but the tingles still spread out under his skin. He brushed a fingertip back and forth over it a few times before switching to lightly scraping his nail along it.

“Knife,” Geralt said softly.

Jaskier scritched briefly at his chest with four fingers, making Geralt twitch, before moving on. He decided on a knotted scar on Geralt’s side, right around his waistline. Geralt twitched and huffed, a smile sneaking onto his face. The already sensitive spot combined with the even-more-sensitive scar tissue made it very hard to keep his composure.

“What about here, darling?”

Geralt tried to remember, and then huffed out a quick breath of a laugh that had nothing to do with the ticklish touch. Jaskier must’ve sensed it too, because he stopped the teasing, just resting his fingers against the skin and looking at him curiously. Geralt couldn’t help the grin on his face.

“Eskel and I,” he said. “We were fucking around, and I tumbled out a window. Vesemir was pissed as all hell.”

Jaskier chuckled in the crook of his shoulder and neck. “Of course you were the Kaer Morhen troublemakers.”

Geralt opened his mouth to reply, but at that exact moment, Jaskier scribbled those calloused fingertipss against the scar and Geralt was too caught off-guard to keep himself composed. He barked out a laugh and jerked to the side, curving his waist in on one side and trying to twist away, but Jaskier followed him easily. 

The boys at Kaer Morhen played rough, even when doing something as silly and fun as tickling. It was all throwing each other to the ground and pinning each other into the floor and digging hands deep into weak points. They got away with playing by telling Vesemir it was teaching them where to defend themselves, since ticklish weak points were often directly correlated with places you did not want to get injured, like arteries and organs, but Geralt was sure he saw through that.

But experiencing it as such, Geralt wasn’t prepared for just how much such a gentle touch could tickle. It was unbearable, it was maddening. Geralt didn’t know how to handle it. And Jaskier never went deeper, never went harsher, just kept his touch feather-light tracing around and teasing his scars. It wasn’t a sensation he had any reference for to help his defense, so he was utterly helpless in the face of this caring bard with his gentle hands and soft smile.

Jaskier stayed in that spot for what felt like a while to Geralt, now that he finally found somewhere to make Geralt crack. He squeezed his hands into fists to avoid reaching for or swatting at Jaskier, not willing to ruin their little game. As embarrassing as it was, Geralt may have been having a little bit of fun, and he wasn’t quite willing to give it up so soon, even if he had lost at holding back his reactions.

After an eternity, Jaskier pulled his hand away. He gave Geralt almost no time before he moved to the next scar, meaning Geralt had no time to recover. He almost snorted as Jaskier’s fingers touched down and traced around a scar curving against his stomach. Then he traced his fingers in a line up and down the curve, leaving Geralt wiggling in place in a very embarrassing way, for someone who tried so hard to remain composed.

Geralt was so focused on trying to rebuild the dam to contain his snickers and being flustered over his squirming, that Jaskier played with the scar for over a minute before prompting Geralt with an evil grin against his neck.

“This one, dear heart?” He punctuated the question with a quick wiggle against the deepest part of the curve, and Geralt had to swallow a terrible squeal.

“D-devourer,” he struggled to get out.

“Oh, poor thing,” Jaskier cooed. “Ugly bastards, those ones. Nasty claws on them.”

At the word “claw” Jaskier formed a claw with his fingers and scratched up and down against various scars around Geralt’s stomach. Geralt’s choked snickers turned into full laughs as he squeezed his eyes shut. Doing that, however, only made things worse for him, because he couldn’t tell where Jaskier was moving next, so they immediately shot back open.

Then, Jaskier dropped one of the weaponized hands and dipped a finger into his bellybutton. This time, Geralt couldn’t quite successfully bite back the squeal that tried to escape, and it came out choked and giggly. He laughed and jerked, doubling over a little at the sensation.

“That’s not a scar!” He protested, but still didn’t pull Jaskier’s hand away.

Jaskier chuckled against his neck and vibrated the finger even deeper. “Sure it is! Remember where it came from?”

“My-- my birth!”

Jaskier pulled away, giving him a break. Geralt leaned over his legs, working to regain his breath through his leftover chuckles.

“Your giggles are so cute,” Jaskier said, nipping playfully at Geralt’s exposed shoulder and neck.

Geralt was so wound up that he even jerked away from that touch, feeling quite ticklish even though it didn’t usually bother him so much. “I don’t giggle.”

Jaskier fluttered his fingers against the knotted scar on his side once more, and Geralt burst into giggles. “I beg to differ, darling. They’re all deep and rumbling, nothing like my giggles, but giggles nonetheless. Your chuckles are quite a bit deeper, not quite so bouncy.”

“Quiet.”

Jaskier gasped, pulling his hands away. “As if I could ever!”

Before Geralt could retort with some sort of scathing or teasing remark, one of Jaskier’s hands made itself known on his thigh, tracing a long, deep scar. Geralt hadn’t had time to compose himself yet again, and immediately tumbled back into quiet laughter. His leg twitched, but Geralt refused to show enough weakness to let it squirm and bounce about like it wanted to, to escape the sensations.

“Cockatrice,” Geralt fought to get out through his laughter, knowing Jaskier was trying to draw out the playful torment before asking.

“Poor thing,” Jaskier murmured against the skin of his neck, lips and teeth tracing the scar that Adda had left there after he’d saved her from her striga curse, the bite marks having healed in quite the ugly fashion.

This time, Geralt did snort, trying to shrug up his shoulders and crane his neck so that Jaskier didn’t have access, but the man was stubborn. His hand also still fluttered away at Geralt’s thigh, finding other scars to trace briefly, but not asking after them.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaskier breathed.

Geralt didn’t reply, suddenly debating pulling away from Jaskier’s touch. Jaskier made the decision for him, pushing him down onto the bed and staring down at him, fingers tracing a few scars in a way that, for the first time since this little game started, weren’t meant to be ticklish. They still were, of course, but lightly enough that Geralt was able to actually focus.

“You are. Your scars don’t detract from that beauty.”

Geralt caught one of Jaskier’s wandering hands off his bicep and the other froze where it was on his chest. “I’m a mutant and a monster.”

Jaskier scowled at him. “Next time you say that, I’m going to tickle you until you have to gasp through your giggles about how good and wonderful a person you are, and how drop-dead handsome you are.”

“Jaskier.”

“Geralt.”

Left with no time to argue his point again, Jaskier’s hands touched down again, finding some of the more sensitive scars he had explored. One hand went to the knotted one on his side and scribbled away, the other slipped under him to the kikimore scar on his back and started up that maddening in-and-out dragging of fingers once more. Geralt tossed his head back in laughter, eyes squeezing shut.

“Or maybe,” Jaskier said, cheeky grin evident in his voice and mirth dancing around in his scent, “we’ll just do that now.”

Jaskier’s mouth attached to Adda’s scar once more and Geralt was lost. His hands danced between scar tissue, tormenting away, while his mouth pinpointed any scars in the vicinity of his neck, shoulders, and collarbones to nip and kiss at. Geralt wheezed and cackled and giggled, but he never made an effort to squirm away from the touch. He knew how to get out of it, after all, even if he believed saying it would be a lie. Besides, Witcher stamina was nothing to bat an eye at. So Geralt simply gripped Jaskier’s hips and let himself go, just this once, to have fun with his lover. Their laughter mingled together late into the night, causing them to have a much later start in the morning than they had originally planned. 

Geralt couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles: Another Sitch in Time-Part 26

They fought against the vicious robot women. As they kept onward towards the citadel, more and more of those women tenaciously came at them. But the group was able to persist against them, not letting even one of them or one group of them, for that matter, stand in their way. The fight through was a seemingly never ending cycle of fighting through those vicious women as they came in droves.

Soon enough, just before they were about to enter the citadel, they ran into Cassiopeia. She was atop a floating turret, awaiting their arrival. Cassiopeia: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the galaxy's favorite Lombaxes and their scrawny red-headed chimp? Come to rescue your little friend?" Kim: "Oh, no, not another one of you annoying, oversized harpies!" Azimuth: "Our quarrel isn't with you, Cassiopeia! Hand over Clank and we'll cause no more trouble."

Cassiopeia laughed out loud. Cassiopeia: "Cause no more trouble? Carina and Libra are dead thanks to you!" Kim: "Uh, that wasn't on us. It was either kill or be killed, so we really didn't have a choice there. They pretty much signed away their own lives."

Cassiopeia was greatly enraged as she growled out loud. Cassiopeia: "Why you snarky little…! Well no matter. We've gotten what we need from the caretaker and now his time has come. Valkyries, destroy the Lombaxes and the pretty little girl!" Ratchet: "Oh, it is so on!"

Cassiopeia flew off on her hover turret. Azimuth: "She's going to kill Clank! I'm going after her!"

Azimuth rushed off after Cassiopeia. Ratchet: "General, wait!"

Kim grabbed on to Ratchet by his wrist before he had the chance to rush off. Kim: "Ratchet! This way! We have to keep going!" Ratchet: "Yeah, you're right. Let's go."

They ran off towards the direct path. Everywhere, the Valkyries came at them almost indefinitely, attacking them constantly. The entire run through consisted of this. As they kept going further, they soon ran into the citadel's training course. There, Cassiopeia was awaiting their arrival. Cassiopeia: "Aw, you poor dears. You wandered into our training course. No organic being has ever survived. Farewell, at least you'll both take solace in the fact that you died together."

She departed from the room, the doors sealed shut and they were locked in. The room itself consisted on shock emitters below the floor that they were standing on. In the center of the room was a machine that dispersed bombs that can easily shatter the floor if they were allowed to blow up. Kim and Ratchet worked frantically and collectively to catch the bombs and toss them back into the machine. Once again, Kim's Centurion Armor was really put to good use for this.

As they continued on, they could listen in on Cassiopeia conversing with Dr. Nefarious via a transmitter. Dr. Nefarious: "Cassie? What is the status to Unnecessarily Evil Initiative Omega-91?" Cassiopeia: "In motion, my love. Those annoying creatures are trapped in an overly elaborate death scenario designed to torture them into a slow and painful doom." Dr. Nefarious: "That's Unnecessarily Evil Initiative Omega-96! I said 91! Does NO ONE read my memos!?" Cassiopeia: "Stop yelling at me! Our merit says we need to COMMUNICATE!" Dr. Nefarious: "(grunt) This coming from someone who does nothing but text me while I'm at work? You are smothering me! Now get it done!" Kim: "Geez, sounds like they have one rough relationship." Ratchet: "No kidding, I can't tell who to feel sorry for more."

They were eventually able to destroy the machine and shut down the shock emitters. Kim: "Call that a death trap? I've played lacrosse games more lethal than that."

The second door opened up, they ran through it and continued on through the citadel. To be expected, they were bombarded by more of the Valkyries. Although, from what was heard on the transmitters, the women were not doing very well against the group, including Azimuth; they were pretty much plowing through the lot of them.

Shortly afterwards, they ran into yet another overly elaborate death scenario. Cassiopeia had also been waiting for them there as well. Cassiopeia: "Still alive? Well, let's see how you 2 survive a silo of deadly nerve toxin."

She departed as they were sealed in. A machine within the center of the room emitted the deadly nerve toxin. On the floor were switches needed to shut off the machine, but they were shifted around the room as the floor consisted of 3 rotating platforms. Cassiopeia happily mocked them. Cassiopeia: "Don't forget to hold yer breaths!" Ratchet: "Kim! We have to clear out this toxin!" Kim: "Nough said."

Both of them rushed around the room diligently to reach the switches. They persisted without hesitating as they scrambled to shut off the machine. They managed to reach all of the switches. Dr. Nefarious: "Unacceptable! They should be smoldering squishy carcasses by now!" Cassiopeia: "Don't treat me like one of your subordinates! I'm not Courtney Gears!" Dr. Nefarious: "Nag, nag, nag! Change the channel, will ya? This is why office romances never work out!" Kim: "They're really going all out on each other." Ratchet: "Tell me about it, even this toxin is a lot less lethal than their arguing."

This scenario consisted of 3 phases, each one harder than the last. They were eventually able to clear the second death trap. The machine was destroyed and the second door opened for them. They exited out of it.

As they were rushing through, Azimuth contacted them again. Azimuth: "Ratchet, come in. I've been through 3 buildings and still no sign of Clank. They must have moved him into Cassiopeia's quarters." Ratchet: "We're tracking her right now, just hold off the rest of them." Kim: "We'll find him, Azimuth. I know we will." Azimuth: "I'm sorry, you 2. I should have known the Valkyries faked that distress call. It was foolish of me to suggest the assault." Kim: "We were all fooled, Azimuth. It happens to the best of us, really." Ratchet: "Kim's right. Besides, right now, all that matters is Clank." Kim: "We won't rest until we've found him. Count on it." Azimuth: "Huh! I hate to admit it, but I'm glad that you're here to support us, miss. You have a lot of spirit, for a human." Kim: "Uh, gee, thanks. Always a pleasure, old timer." Azimuth: "Alright, that's enough patting you on the back, little lady. Now get to it."

They severed communications with him. Kim: "Geez, even when he praises me, I still get put down by him." Ratchet: "I know. I don't like how he looks down on you. You never deserved to be treated like that, not by anyone. At least, I don't believe that you do."

Kim smiled at him, he smiled back. They continued forward.

They spent a brief period of time fighting off more of the Valkyries. They soon ran into a room with a glass floor. Ratchet: "Aw, man."

Of course, Cassiopeia was there awaiting their arrival. You should know by now what that means. Cassiopeia: "Hello, my pretties. I see…" Ratchet: "Yeah, I know. Time for another death trap." Kim: "So not the drama." Cassiopeia: "Hmph! Well, let's see if you consider falling to your doom to be "so not the drama", girlie!"

They were sealed in as the floor below the glass floor opened up. The glass below them began to crack. Robots appeared continuously, threatening to blow up and shatter the glass. However, there were also Battery Bots running about as well as outlets for each of the bots. They frantically went around the entire place, tossing each of the Battery Bots into the outlets. They kept at this until they were able to override the death trap. Kim: "Like I said, so not the drama." Ratchet: "These death traps are more annoying than they are terrifying."

The next door opened for them. They proceeded further as they fought off more of the Valkyries. Just then, they were approached by Rufus. Kim: "Rufus!" Ratchet: "Whoa, I didn't expect to see you here, little guy. What's the matter? Where's Clank?"

Rufus seemed very jittery and babbled a lot as he pointed in another direction. Kim: "I think he's trying to tell us where Clank is." Ratchet: "Lead the way, Rufus."

He scampered off as they followed him.

PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS:

Dominic Mulciber - Jeff Bridges

Current: Potioneer

Amelie Mulciber (nee Laurent) - Sally Field

Current: Housewife

Like many couples, their marriage was decided behind closed doors without either having any say in the matter. Formally, they’d only spoken in person a handful of times before their wedding. In the beginning, neither had any real interest in each other but did their best to present well in public the two operating more like roommates than a married couple. It took a few years before they announced the birth of their first child, Malachi’s father, Damian.  When all was said and done they would go one to have two more children together. 

Dominic is known to be a stern man who had high expectations for his sons and was not know to spare them. Even in his younger years, he was known for the cold manner in which he dealt with the people around him.  His regimented manner assisted him well in his career as a Potioneer. He now owns an apothecary and is still doing a lot of the brewing of his own products himself.  While his expectations are still very high he has softened in his older age and is known to favor Malachi despite having not spoken to Damian in years. 

Amelie grew up in the French countryside as the middle of three daughters with aspirations of owning a bakery at some point.  She is the youngest of three children and the only daughter. Her parents were French wandmakers.  Despite her agreeable nature it took her some time to warm up to the uncompromising man she’d married. Though she won him over rather quickly and is the apple of her husband's eye. Acts as the family mediator more often than not. 

Dominic and Alexander Rowle have been close friends from their time at Hogwarts together. And both couples are still known to spend time together quite frequently. 

While Amelie does not share her husband’s views on blood purity she values her family's reputation too much to voice such opinions.  

MATERNAL GRANDPARENTS:

Alexander Rowle - Mark Harmon 

Previous: Unspeakable & Head of the Department of Mysteries 

Current:  Member of the Wizengamot

Jacqueline Rowle (nee O’Grady) - Susan Sarandon

Previous: Professional Quidditch Player & Head Coach of the Holyhead Harpies

Current:  Bookshop Owner

Alexander Rowle was enamored with his eventual wife the moment he laid eyes on her. She was boisterous and extroverted which let the two to butt heads for all of the seven years they spent at Hogwarts together. While they did marry for love it was far from a fairytale. Their relationship started on the heels of a drunken kiss in the midst of a petty argument at a party when Jacqueline challenged the other. What followed was a whirlwind relationship that ended in Alexander purposing before his family had even that the time to consider suitors. While they weren’t thrilled with his choice, not believing her to refined enough, ultimately they stopped arguing with him because she came from an otherwise desirable background. The two went on to have two children together. 

Jacqueline Rowle was the firstborn to a large family that resided just outside of Dublin. She’d grown up working hard either at home or in the bookshop her parents owned. Regardless of their best efforts, she was always a bit rough around the edges.  Her natural curiosity helped her excel during her time at Hogwarts despite the posh Englishman who seemed to make her life miserable. After graduation, she went on to play professional quidditch first for the Kenmare Kestrels, and then later for the Holyhead Harpies. After the birth of her second child and a string of injuries, she moved on to coaching which she did until a few years ago when she retired from Quidditch all together. Jacqueline is a very outspoken witch who had a hard time transitioning to type of life her husband was born into. She is a very capable witch who was regarded for her spell casting prowess. She currently runs her family bookstore in Dublin which many Irish families preferring to purchase their school materials there. 

Alexander was always rather particular. As a young boy, he was known to do things repeatedly until they were up to whatever standard he’d placed upon himself. During his school years, he was as meticulous as ever. His work always well researched and perfectly written. So being view as comparable to someone as crude as a girl who called herself Jac drove him up a wall. With many of the men in his family being career politicians, it was unsurprising when he took a position within the ministry. While politics weren’t his focus he has been a lifelong ministry employee working as an Unspeakable and heading the department all together before his retirement. He’s been a member of the  Wizengamot for the last ten years. 

PARENTS:

Damian Mulciber - Jeffery Dean Morgan

Previous: Dragon Killer

Current: Head of the Beast Division

Eleanor Muciber (nee Rowle) - Elizabeth Hurley

Current: Housewife

The announcement of their engagement was a shock, to say the least. With the Rowle’s love story, it was expected their children would have the ability to do the same. The two had grown up together with Eleanor being one of the few able to break the young wizard self-imposed isolation at times. Nonetheless, it was safe the say the two hated each other. Despite his friendship with her brother Damian tormented the poor witch well into their time at Hogwarts. Even with their dislike of each other being common knowledge they were wed less than a year after her graduation. While Eleanor made continuous attempts to be the wife Damian wanted and expected their household was far from happy. Malachi is their only child together, and was born after years of being pressured by their families about children. Early in his childhood, Eleanor began locking herself in Malachi’s room at night as a way to keep them safe from his father. The two have slept separately since then. 

Damian Mulciber grew up in a house that was initially as warm as it was grim. In his early years, his mother doted on him incessantly. While his father didn’t find it becoming he allowed it as to not rob his wife of her experience as a first-time mother. However, by the birth of their third son, Dominic had no patience for his heir being coddled. While he was hard on all of his children the focus of his ire was largely on Damian. In turn, the young boy chose to isolate himself save a friendship with the Rowle’s son. The two would bond over similar conditions and quiet penchant for violence which would lead both of them to an association with Tom Riddle in the school years. His obsession with Eleanor began as jealously; he found her to be spoiled, sheltered, and vain. Though no fault of her own she became the embodiment of everything he felt was out of his reach and was determined to show her just how miserable the world was. In spite of his father’s protest, he took a position as a Dragon Killer straight out of Hogwarts. It was far from glamourous but Damian proved to be almost too good at it. He is one of Lord Voldemort’s earliest followers joining as soon as he was approached, believing firmly in the cause. He is currently the head of the Beast Divison and has been for the last four years. 

Eleanor was her parent's pride and joy. The young woman growing up well protected and pampered for the moment she was brought home from St. Mungo’s. Her mother had been so excited to finally bring home a baby girl. While the standards were still very high in their household she excelled easily in the areas her brother struggled. Animosity grew quickly between the pair with their parents happy to pit them against one another. Matters weren’t helped with the torment she received at the hands of Damian being facilitated by her own flesh and blood. During her time at school, she did everything to set herself up to start the life she’d dreamed of. Unfortunately, all of that came to an end during the Christmas holiday of her seventh year when she was informed of her engagement to Damian. Admittedly she was devastated, but attempted to accept her circumstances graciously. While it’s not common knowledge, but Eleanor left Damian right before she found out she was pregnant with Malachi. After making the mistake of telling her mother of that fact Damian tracked her down using a barrage of threats to bring her home. While she loves her son his birth was the worst thing that has ever happened to her. 

Kota Chapter 29: The Cat’s Out of the Bag

Chloe, somehow, managed to convince Alix to come over to her place to work on their project.

Alix had skating practice right after school, so Chloe and Lacy had the first hour or so to themselves. This very quickly turned into a makeover. Chloe was just finishing up some touches to Lacy's hair when Alix arrived. She looked horrified at the sight of all the makeup and hair products.

"I thought we were doing homework," Alix said.

"We were waiting on you," Lacy replied. She stood up and tiptoed around all the supplies to greet Alix. "We should probably move to a different part of the room."

The three of them set up a work station next to Chloe's huge tv, and got to work. They managed to stay focused for a whole two hours, and were starting to wrap up when Sabrina arrived.

"Chloe, you look so pretty!" She squealed.

Chloe huffed. "Don't I always?"

"I didn't know you invited Sabrina," Alix commented.

"I didn't," Chloe replied. "I don't have to."

"If I'm interrupting something-" Sabrina started.

"Nonsense," Chloe interrupted. "You're always welcome here. Same with you." She nudged Lacy's knee with her foot.

"What about me?" Alix challenged.

Chloe made a face and a so-so motion with her hand.

"That's fair," Alix agreed.

Chloe's butler brought them snacks and drinks, and the four of them sat around and chatted for about half an hour.

"Oh, did you hear Alya was contacted by that big-name researcher about something she posted on the Ladyblog?" Sabrina asked, when the topic of the superheroes came up.

"Yeah," Alix replied. "It was about that video she did on potential past wielders. My dad was also contacted."

"Good for her," Lacy commented.

"She's really starting to become a good reporter," Alix noted. "Much better than when she started, with all that speculation and gossip and stuff. Ooh, speaking of my dad, I have a present for you, Lace." Alix dug into her backpack and pulled out a book.

"A book?" Lacy questioned.

"Not just any book," Alix said, handing it to Lacy. "It's a series of photographs by some of the best photographers in the world."

"Cool."

Lacy skimmed through the pages quickly, already enraptured by the photography. "Thanks!"

.

That evening, Lacy headed out on her balcony with her book and a small light and started through the book.

As she scanned the photos, Lacy caught herself twisting her fingers through her hair. Chloe has redone it in a loose side ponytail, and it hung over her shoulder in just the right position for fidgeting.

Lacy was so occupied with her book that she didn't notice the akuma until it was practically on top of her.

The massive creature had perched on the roof of Lacy's apartment. At first, Lacy could only make out it's size - it was huge - but after a few seconds, she could tell what it was.

Lacy's blood ran cold. A drakon.

- there was a drakon and -

- I swear it was -

- died a hero, that's -

Lacy took a shuddered breath. She shut her eyes and tried to force the memory out.

- so sorry, Lacy, but there was nothing -

- braver than I ever gave her -

- rumors that she was a spy -

"Lacy?"

Lacy jerked up when she felt a hand on her arm.

Her dad was sitting next to her, concern on his face.

"Come on, let's get inside and away from the akuma."

.

Alya slid into the seat next to Lacy.

"Hey, did you see the photos from the akuma last night?" She asked, pushing her phone towards Lacy. "It was a classical studies professor who got mad after a student called her class boring. She transformed into a bunch of Greek monsters. It was really cool!"

Lacy scrolled through the photos. The akuma had transformed into a satyr, chimera, harpy, centaur, and then there was the photo of the drakon on Lacy's buildings.

- biggest monster I've ever seen -

- and Silena just charged in -

- she and Luke had always been close, I mean, are you really surprised? You know how -

"Lace?"

"Hm?"

"You zoned out on me, girl," Alya said.

"Sorry, just thinking," Lacy replied. "The akuma got a little too close to my apartment last night."

"Oh, is your family okay?" Alya asked.

"Yeah, we're fine, just a bit of a scare." Lacy tucked a loose strand behind her ear and turned back to her notebook. Since class hadn't even started yet, there was nothing there to pretend to look at.

"You okay?" Alya questioned.

Lacy shrugged.

"If you need to see the nurse or the counselor, I could tell Bustier what happened," Alya offered.

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

When Alix arrived, she kicked Alya out of her seat. Lacy gave her a half-hearted smile, and Alix shot her a concerned look.

"Rough night?" Alix asked.

"Didn't sleep," Lacy admitted.

Alix rubbed Lacy's arm in sympathy.

Marinette, Nino, and Adrien entered the classroom, Nino and Adrien in an intense discussion and Marinette looking as dead tired as Lacy felt. Alya pounced on them immediately, talking about the akuma the night before.

Bustier cleared her throat, and class began.

And Lacy really, truly did try to stay awake.

Alix still had to elbow her awake a couple of times, and Lacy caught Bustier shooting her concerned looks throughout class.

She just hoped she would be more awake for science class. Mendeleev was not as forgiving.

.

It was about halfway through the first period of the class when Lacy had to leave.

Bustier was going over some scary poem that had Juleka and a few other students interested and the rest of the class creeped out. Alix was moving around a lot as she took notes, as one of the class's horror lovers, which was helping keep Lacy awake.

And then Bustier said something about death and suddenly Lacy couldn't breathe.

- dead before they could find a medic -

- traitor, but Clarisse -

- pass as Clarisse, I mean -

- looked so scared -

Alix put her hand on Lacy's shoulder, helping her ground herself back in the classroom. Lacy could feel eyes of some of her classmates on her, but Bustier continued with her lesson unaware. Lacy took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. It helped. A little.

But there was no way she was going to be able to handle this lesson.

"Miss Bustier," Lacy called. "I need to go the bathroom, it's an emergency."

"All right," Bustier said, and Lacy was out the door.

She didn't make it to the bathroom. Instead, she stopped in the hallway, grabbing onto the rails and looking down at the courtyard before.

Breathe.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

It took several breaths, but Lacy finally felt herself calm down.

"Well, hello there."

Lacy stiffened at the voice. Drew - no, Lila approached her, grinning.

- she didn't do the rite of passage -

- got what she deserved -

"Not in the mood," Lacy snapped.

"Oh, but it's been so long since we talked," Dre - Lila said. "How are you doing?"

Her voice sounded so much like Drew's. Lacy tightened her hands around the railing, reminding herself she was at school, not back at camp.

She's a traitor, Drew had yelled. She never cared for us. Stop acting like she's a hero when she betrayed all of us!

"Horrible," Lacy replied. "Go away."

Lila flinched. "Wow. You are in a bad mood."

Lacy scoffed.

She wasn't sure when Lila left, but at some point it was Alix standing next to her instead.

"Feeling any better?" Alix asked.

"A little," Lacy admitted.

"Bustier switched to a different poet," Alix said. "If you want to try to go back in."

Lacy shrugged. "I'll try. Thanks."

.

Somehow, Lacy made it through the day.

Many of her classmates asked her if she was feeling okay, and Mendeleev even pulled her aside after class to check on her, and Lacy just told them the same thing she told Alix earlier.

"Neither did I," Marinette admitted. "Stayed up all night working on an emergency commission for Jagged Stone." She yawned, proving her point.

"You two need better sleep schedules," Alya commented.

"I need caffeine," Marinette responded.

By the end of the day, Lacy managed to convince most of her class that she was fine, just a little tired. Alix and Nathaniel weren't convinced, but neither prodded.

Alix did insist on them walking home with her after school.

"Just so you don't fall asleep in the middle of the road," Alix explained.

No one attempted conversation as they walked - well, as Lacy and Nathaniel walked and Alix skated circles around them. Lacy was too tired to talk, Nathaniel was listening to something on his phone, and Alix was content with skating.

"Thanks," Lacy said when they arrived at her apartment.

"Anytime," Alix replied.

They turned to leave, but Lacy stopped them.

"I - do you mind staying a while? I don't really want to be alone."

"I can't," Nathaniel said. "I promised my sister I'd help her with something. Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I'll stay," Alix offered.

.

Lacy knew she was a poor host, but she found she didn't care.

Alix made them both sandwiches and stared at Lacy until she ate hers. After that, Lacy ended up laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, while Alix listened to her podcast and paged through a book on graffiti.

Eventually, Lacy got up and washed her face off.

"Thanks," she said, sitting back down next to Alix. "I didn't want to be alone."

"Not a problem," Alix replied. "Feeling better?"

"A little," Lacy replied. "A good night's sleep will help a lot." She yawned. "And I think I'll sleep well tonight."

Hopefully without nightmares, too.

"Well, if you need someone to talk to tonight, Marinette's usually awake," Alix offered.

Lacy chuckled. "True."

When Lacy didn't talk anymore, Alix resumed her podcast.

Lacy undid her hair and started finger combing it, thinking through the events of the day. She managed fine, but if something like this happened again -

"Hey, Alix, can I tell you something?" Lacy asked.

"Yeah." Alix removed her headphones and turned towards Lacy.

Lacy opened her mouth, but found she had no clue how to say what she wanted to say.

"Um, well, it's about - well. Do you believe in magic?"

Alix stared at her blankly. "Have you seen the news?"

"Right, yeah, obvious question." Lacy chuckled nervously. "But like, outside of the miraculous and Hawkmoth and everything."

"Of course," Alix replied. "There's no reason to assume that the miraculous are the only source of magic. And studying some of the old mythologies and stuff, like the stuff my dad does - well, sometimes I think that Jalil's mom must have had some kind of magic, but because I didn't inherit it, they won't tell me. So yeah, I believe in it. Why?"

"Because, well - would you believe me if I said my mother is -" a goddess. For some reason, Lacy couldn't say the words.

What am I doing? She's going to think I'm insane or pranking her or something.

"Mother is a what?" Alix questioned. When Lacy hesitated, she elbowed her. "I can handle it."

Alix was genuine - Lacy could see it in her expression. So she took a deep breath, and said it.

"My mother is a goddess."

"Seriously?" Alix asked. "That's cool! Which one?"

"You believe me?" Lacy asked.

"Of course I do!" Alix said. "I've seen weirder stuff - everyone in Paris has. Besides, you wouldn't lie about this."

Lacy smiled. "Okay."

"So which one is she?" Alix asked.

"Aphrodite," Lacy replied. "Greek goddess of beauty and love."

"Oh." Alix didn't look enthused. Beauty-related stuff was never her thing, but she forced a smile anyways.

"Yeah, she's not one of the cool ones like Athena or Nike," Lacy said, having a gut feeling those were Alix's favorite Greek goddesses.

"So, are there a lot of you?" Alix asked.

"Yeah," Lach answered. "Aphrodite gets around a lot, even by Greek mythological standards. I think I have about twenty siblings I know of right now - that are alive, at least." Which reminded her of why she was having this conversation.

Alix must have noticed her mood drop, because she put a hand on her shoulder. "Did something happen?"

Lacy nodded. "There was a big war, and one of my sisters - actually, several of my sisters died. But Silena, she - I was really close to her, so when she -" Lacy broke off. "Anyways, something last night reminded me of everything with her and - and I guess it's followed me through today too."

"I'm sorry," Alix said. "I've never lost someone like that, but I remember when Jalil did, and I know how much it sucks."

"It does," Lacy agreed. "She died a hero - or at least, that's what everybody keeps telling me."

Nora said that she was the spy, Cecil whispered to her one night. But Clarisse won't let anyone say it. And the Stolls say Percy is getting defensive over it too.

"What happened?"

"She - uh, there was an argument between two of us, and the Ares campers were refusing to fight, so Silena dressed up as their leader, Clarisse, to convince them to fight."

The drakon was destined to be killed by a child of Ares, Chris explained, after the battle. If Silena hadn't done what she did, then -

"She was killed in the process," Lacy finished. And then revealed she was the spy.

"That's... harsh," Alix finally said.

Lacy shrugged. "I guess. I - it's been a while now, I don't know why I keep thinking about it."

"Well, you're the daughter of a therapist," Alix said. "You tell me."

Lacy chewed her lip, thinking. The obvious answer was obvious - she was close to Silena, had looked up to her, and losing her hurt. Especially since Silena wasn't there to help Lacy through losing her other siblings. No one from her cabin had died in the previous battles - they weren't warriors. Silena has left her when she needed her the most.

Was she... mad at Silena?

She's a traitor, Drew had yelled. She never cared for us. Stop acting like she's a hero when she betrayed all of us!

No one ever talked about it, outside of hushed rumors the days after it happened. Clarisse would yell at whoever said the s word. Percy and Annabeth weren't much better. Everyone's emotions were high, with grief and relief and victory and shock, and no one said the s word because Silena had died a hero.

She betrayed her camp because she had a crush on a guy - and yeah, okay, Luke was good looking and as a soon of Hermès he was naturally charming, but it still hurt. And in the end, she had kept it secret to protect her boyfriend.

Demigod siblings weren't close the way mortal siblings were, but it still hurt.

"She betrayed us," Lacy eventually said. It felt good to say it, finally. "She liked one of the guys on the other side, and he abused that and had her be his spy. When she started dating someone else, he threatened her boyfriend to keep her silent. Then, he died and only then did she say anything. As she was dying. And I guess I never got to process that, because she died a hero and the only one who seemed to think different was Drew, who I hate agreeing with. But, Silena still did all of that. And it hurt."

"I'm sorry," Alix said.

"It feels good to say it, you know?" Lacy said. "I never really got to say it - Silena betrayed us, she was a traitor, even if she died a hero. Both things can coexist, and they both hurt."

Especially after meeting Piper. Piper, who seemed to value lives other than her current love interest. She always seemed to put her father first, above anything, and her friendship with Valdez or Annabeth always had as much weight to it as her romance with Jason. And she always made time for her cabin, except for the whole away-on-a-quest-overseas thing she did.

Piper made their cabin mean more than just romantic love and beauty tips. Lacy realized that just made her more angry at Silena.

"It's okay to be angry," Alix said. "I'm mad at Jalil a lot - I still haven't forgiven him for the whole aliens-built-the-pyramid thing he did! It doesn't mean I don't love him, as obnoxious as he is."

"I know," Lacy said.

"You can be mad at your sister," Alix said. "Even if she's your sister, or even if she's dead. The more you bottle up those emotions, the stronger they'll get."

"I know that," Lacy said. "Dad tells me that all the time, especially now with the akumas."

"Have you told your dad about all this?" Alix questioned.

"I've told him some, but, I don't know. It's hard to talk about." Lacy sighed. "But you're really easy to talk to."

Alix shrugged. "I don't judge. For most people, that's enough."

"You get lots of people telling you secrets?" Lacy probed.

Alix chuckled. "Maybe. Mostly I figure them out by myself."

"Oh? And what other secrets do I have to figure out?" Lacy challenged.

"Hmm... You're a pretty open book, so not many. Though I had no clue about the demigod thing, so maybe I'm not as good as I thought."

Lacy chuckled. "It's a pretty far-fetched thing to come up with on its own, so I'd say you're okay."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Alix replied. "Hey, do you want to see this hilarious video Kim was showing me earlier?"

"Of course," Lacy said. "Kim always finds the best stuff."

Alix brought out her phone, and Lacy leaned in.

She was still tired, and that night she ended up going to bed way earlier than normal, but she felt much better. Sometimes, things just needed to be said out loud.

Summersea’s GoT Season 6 Tumblr Spoiled First Time Watch 2019: Part 1

So I was going to rename this a “hatewatch” now that I’ve gotten to a whole season I hadn’t seen before, but let’s be honest. If you’ve seen me reblogging things from later seasons, it was never going to be that. There are things that I knew I was going to enjoy VERY MUCH, and I wasn’t wrong. There were also things that, if I let them, would have had me frothing a the mouth in rage. 

But then I reminded myself that I’m vacationing in Castle Not Giving a Shit while I watch the back half of the show, and things were much better after that. I’ve mostly left my in the moment reaction except where I’d had too much wine to be coherent.

Season 6

Hot on the heels of season 5 i still have a third of a bottle of Chardonnay left let’s DO THIS

6x01

1. Lol it’s still in the credits so they continue to pretend like they care about Dorne????

2. Ghost howling 😢😢😢

3. So Davos went straight from staning one dour person to another... he has a type.

4. Some dude in the night’s watch re Melisandre: who’s she? Davos: oh just some lady Who spat a shadow out of her vag once LETS TRUST HER

5. Wow Olly aged a lot over the past five minutes since he killed Jon!

6. Edd please don’t die here. I don’t remember how you go but don’t let it be here

7. Boo hoo poor little psychopath lost his gf. No one cares, Ramsay. Myranda deserved what she got AND SO WILL YOU

8. My soul left my body like three times during that chase scene where Theon and Sansa are running from the Bolton men. POOR COLD BBS

9. That hug where they’re just CLINGING TO EACH OTHER THIS SHOULD NOT MAKE ME SHIP IT BUT HERE WE ARE

10. THEON SHOWING HIMSELF TO TRY TO KEEP HER SAFE I CANNOT HE KNOWS WHAT IT MEANS IF THEY CATCH HIM AND HE DOES IT ANYWAY SO SHE MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE 

11. IT’S BRIENNE OF MF-ING TARTH OMG YAY

12. Also go Theon killing that dude

13. UGH THE SWEARING FEALTY SCENE WITH SANSA AND BRIENNE AND ALL OF THEIR FACES AND SANSA LOOKING TO THEON BEFORE ACCEPTING AND POD REMINDING HER OF THE WORDS IT IS PERFECT 

14. Give me the AU where Theon lives and stays at Winterfell because he wants to be near her and they understand each other and Brienne is in her Queensgiard I AM NOT ASKING MUCH

15. Meanwhile in other trauma hi Cersei

16. UGH LOOK HOW SHE RUNS ACROSS THE COURTYARD TO SEE HER DAUGHTER

17. So... that scene with Jaime and Cersei where they talked about seeing Joanna’s dead body and she... Doesn’t blame him??? For Myrcella? Like I thought she would??? And she tells him about the prophecy??? And they hug??? Yeah that’s in contention for my fav Lannister twin scene ever? Top five at the very least. (And another member of the “Jaime writes his siblings’ dialogue” club.)

18. For all of his false kindness and gentleness the High Sparrow is just as bad as any of them, and When I’m not seething with anger I can appreciate how nuanced Jonathan Pryce’s performance is.

19. Wtf Ellaria and Tyene murdering Doran.

20. OMG TRYSTANE and I call Sand Snake Character Assassination here they are just SO BITCHY and without honor and the Dorneish are SO HONOR OBSESSED ugh why I hate it Also was that Myrcellas ship? Are there two bitchy Sand snakes just chilling in king’s landing now?? 

21. Tyrion and Varys among the people is kind of fascinating. Also what’s up with that Red Priest? Another who thinks the lord of light chose Dany?

22. Oh no the ships... Varys and Tyrion running TOWARD trouble says a lot about them.

23. Did the showrunners... forget Jorah would know the word Khalasar? Why would he say horde?

24. At least the Khals believe Dany is Drogo’s widow?

25. Ok so the waif is fascinating and her movements are just so... Succinct. A++ physical acting or whatever the word is.

26. Whoa that’s Melisandre without the necklace?? Cool story bro but why did she choose then to take it off? What does that tell us about her as a character or her powers? Just wanted to show some crone boobs? IDEK that was a weird ending.

6x02

1. The trailer reminds us that BRAN IS IN THIS SHOW

2. Remember this kid? He’s a Stark! He’s VERY IMPORTANT! He’s GONNA BE KING, but he wasn’t in all of season 5. He matters WE PROMISE.

3. The older generation of Starklings!!! I would be lying if I didn’t say seeing Lyanna and Brandon and Ned and Benejen And Nan and bb Hodor didn’t give me a LOT of feelings. (Also Bloodraven is the Worst Ghost of Christmas Past Ever.)

4. Cross fandom wish: I want to see Hodor, Groot, and Rocket have a conversation where everyone understands every word.

5. So... Meera and Summer have been hunting so that they all stay alive, right?? Otherwise WHAT ARE THEY EATING

6. Ok I take back what I said about them only having the Children once, but that was WEAK. “Help Bran, Meera. Because I said so and I’m a creepy magical person whose motivations are unclear”

7. YEAAAAAH WUN WUN SMASH THOSE TRAITORS. Good on you too Edd for taking charge.

8. Ugh every bar has one like that asshole talking about Cersei. And I don’t think he’s long for this world

9. I LOVE BEING RIGHT HI GREGOR

10. Why would Tommen keep Cersei away from Myrcella’s funeral. OH GODS HE WAS TRYING TO PROTECT HER.

11. Ugh Jaime is tired of keeping vigil over his dead family members GIVE HIM A BREAK

12. Also Jaime promising never to let Cersei be in a cell again while he’s there AAAAHHH YES 🦁 ❤️

13. There’s nothing more dangerous than a fanatic who fears nothing, Jaime. But him threatening the High Sparrow was made of sex.

14. SEVEN HELLS did Tommen just give Cersei the idea to blow up the sept

15. Dany’s council meeting in absentia is kind of neat. I was wondering how those crazy kids were doing. 

16. Lol I drink and I know things is ABOUT TYRION KNOWING ABOUT DRAGONS 🐉 I DID NOT KNOW THAT AND I LOVE IT

17. Tyrion being like “please DO NOT EAT THE ALLIES (me)” to Viserion and Rhaegal is amazing

18. Viserion is all ME TOO LET ME GO HERE’S THE CHAIN SMALL HUMAN when he shows Tyrion his neck.

19. That was a rough test Jaqen

20. Yes Ramsay please march North I dare you

21. Roose KNOWS what Ramsay is and tries to steer him out of it but I don’t think he truly understands how deep the crazy goes

22. HOLY SHIT RAMSAY JUST STABBED HIS DAD and everyone either is too scared of Ramsay to do anything about it or was in on it. LOOKING AT YOU KARSTARK ASSHOLE

23. Oh Walda you sweet trusting soul he is going to feed you and your baby to those dogs isn’t he. I DON’T like being right. Have I mentioned that?

24. Brienne recognizing Sansa’s choices were hard ❤️❤️

25. Ugh Theon talking about all the things he’s done and Sansa hugging him anyway aaaaah my soul

26. It’s hard to hear someone else say they forgive you you when you don’t think you deserve forgiveness, and he’s definitely not ready to hear it from Jon. (But he’s ready to hear it from Sansa because of what they’ve been through together? I like that explanation and I’m sticking to it.)

27. Oh right Pyke exists the show doesn’t remember that unless it’s convenient.

28. HOW DARE YOU REFERENCE THAT PINECONES LINE SHOW YOU HAVE NOT EARNED THAT

29. Ok at least Yara cares about her people and we get to see it.

30. OMG Euron? He’s the one who kills Balon?

31. ...and he’s kind of got delusions of Grandeur? “I am the drowned god” wtf sir.

32. Gotta admit Iron Islands burial customs are kinda neat

33. We get the Kingsmoot? I’m listening, show... you’re on notice but I’m listening.

34. Depressed Melisandre is depressed. Wait... has she never done the raising from the dead thing? SEVEN HELLS SHE HASN’T.

35. A pep talk from Davos might snap me out of my crisis of faith too.

36. Thoros can do this in the language of Westeros, but I guess if Valyrian works for you...

37. I love Tormund peacing out of the room with Mostly Dead Jon like “I have had enough of this south of the wall bullshit”

38. Did Melisandre reach the lord of lights answering machine and it took him a while to get back? “If you would like to leave a resurrection request for R’hllor, please press one...”

39. Ghost’s eyes open AND SO DO JON’S hey bro

6x03 this episode is called Oathbreaker ARE WE ABOUT TO GET TO SEE THE FLASHBACK TO JAIME KILLING AERYS PLZ TELL ME

1. He liiiives! Poor Jon... what did you see while you were gone I wonder?

2. Oh jeez it was nothing. At least he has the most comforting sensible person in this series to help him through.

3. I like that Jon gets to come downstairs and HUG TWO OF HIS FRIENDS and none of the nights watch or the wildlings bat an eye or seem to think less of him for it. LET MEN HUG. 

4. Oh jeez Sam’s taking Gilly and the baby to Horn Hill? Do we get to meet his mom? (No one cares about Randylll but I think we might get to meet him too?)

5. BB Sam is SO CUTE HE HAS HAIR NOW.

6. Wait is Gilly pregnant again?

7. That is the Tower of Joy and I AM NOT READY

8. HOLY SHIT HOWLAND REED KILLED ARTHUR DAYNE?

9. Sword of the morning indeed WHAT A BADASS (somewhere in my soul Jaime is waving an “Arthur Dayne Rocks” banner) there’s no way Ned could have won that fight without help and now Bran knows that??? I don’t really have anything interesting to say here I just love the idea of a kid getting to see the truth of a family story that’s radically different from what he thought he knew.

10. Past Ned HEARD BRAN? FASCINATING?

11. Oh right Dany is about to meet all of the other widows of the Khals this could be cool but knowing d and d it won’t be because it would involve treating WoC with nuance.

12. Not impressed so far.

13. So this girl Varys is meeting with is in league with the Sons of the Harpy? Good my memory is intact.

14. all this with Varys actually TRYING to take care of Meereen is fun...

15. Tyrion being like OMG I AM BORED PLZ TALK ABOUT SOMETHING to Grey Worm and Missandei is the most him thing ever. I feel you Bro. He’s a people person deep down and just wants to be friends so badly.

16. Qyburn with all of Varys’ little birds and making kids’ abusive parents disappear is PRECIOUS.

17. Don’t poke the Mountain, Jaime

18. LANNISTER MUSICAL CHAIRS PART 2 also Jaime is ON THE SMALL COUNCIL NOW??? Who gave book!Cersei three wishes??? Him actually being in her corner and working with her as a team must be like a wish come true...

19. “Grand Maester Pycelle would you sanction that starement?” 😂 Lena’s delivery of that line made me laugh so hard we had to rewind to hear the dialogue.

20. No no don’t leave the three of them together they’ll plan murder. Well, Cersei and Jaime will. Gregor will nod.

21. Tommen confronting the high sparrow fascinated me. He has some of the I WILL KILL YOU family traits on display here but it’s understandable given what his family has gone through at the high sparrows hand. I’d be threatening murder too if I were him.

22. What are you playing at mr high Sparrow? Because I don’t trust you farther than I can throw you, and I don’t even have a good arm.

23. The Hound was not on her list any more 😢 that whole scene with Arya recounting her life and learning to fight blind is NEAT.

24. Wait faceless men are immune to the poison in the water?? Cool.

25. Is that supposed to be Greatjon Umber’s son who refuses Jon? What an ass.

26. My wife adds, “THESE LOSERS are the people Sansa is supposed to be queen of?”

27. OH SHIT OSHA AND RICKON AND SHAGGYDOG HOW DID THAT EVEN HAPPEN? (Please let Sansa Find out who did that and who helped and give them what they deserve... there’s no way anyone took down that wolf alone.) I HATE THAT WE ARE NEVER GOING TO GET CLOSURE ON THAT PROBABLY.

28. Oh shit Jon has to hang the traitors that’s gonna be hard on him.

29. At least Alliser is consistent.

30. Jon did what he had to do... just like Ned in the first ep.

31. Wait WHAT did you just hang those men and then LEAVE? Isn’t leaving just as damaging to the order as killing the lord commander? That seemed overly quick and weird but ok????

32. Guess Jon was the Oathbreaker.

6x04

1. If anyone deserved an I JUST DIED crisis, it’s Jon. Also, the vows say, “it will not end until my death...” so technically...

2. Brienne got them up to the Wall QUICK. She is nothing if not efficient.

3. Sansa and Jon are like, “so... how cool are we going to play this? NOT COOL AT ALL LETS HUG” so sweet.

4. “Where will WE go?” Yes stay together Starklings because family is important certainly don’t scatter to the four winds or anything 🙄

5. I kind of love that Sansa’s the one who insists on taking back Winterfell and is all “help me or not I’m doing it”

6. I’m Brienne of Tarth and I HAVE A LONG FUCKING MEMORY. Wait... wrong show. (She DOES, though...) 

7. Wow Petyr lying about Sansa being forced to Marry Ramsay... he’s playing the lords of the Vale like a fiddle.

8. That’s a lovely bird he got Robin. What a pretty boy.

9. Missandei staring daggers at Tyrion is Excellent Content. The “Tyrion tries to be a little more diplomatic but this involves dealing with slavers” problem is... a bit oversimplified, but at least they’re addressing it? Still not great. 

10. Jorah and Daario are off on a secret mission and I cant stop hearing the Galavant song.

11. The older widow of the Dosh Khaleen is more interesting than the show will let her be.

12. Is that Lazareen widow Dutch from Killjoys? IT IS!!!!

13. Guess what high Sparrow NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR SELF RIGHTEOUS CONVERSION STORY LEAST OF ALL ME (guess who has some issues with organized religion it’s meeeee)

14. Way to act your heart out, though, Jonathan Pryce.

15. So idk if I’ve made a big deal about this but I’m SUPER QUEER and seeing Loras broken like that made my heart stop for a second.

16. “Not setting off” fanatics, huh Pycelle? I think Cersei has other ideas 😈 🔥

17. Tommen is TALLER THAN CERSEI NOW

18. Cersei and Jaime trying to get Olenna and Kevan on their side against the High Sparrow is... smarter than I thought it was going to be when they walked into that room. They had a united front, they were clearly working together... WHAT IS THIS I LIKE IT

19. Theon looks like a ghost of himself. :( And Pyke looks all creepy.

20. Jeez Yarra go easy on your little brother his psyche still has cracks in it. I guess it’s understandable that she’s pissed given the failed rescue and the timing of his arrival. I kept just waiting for him to say “I want to be home,” when she yelled WHAT DO YOU WANT but he didn’t and that makes me sad. (Home should have been Winterfell or wherever Sansa was just saying.)

21. Oh Osha don’t try it... shit. Well, you tried

22. And Tormund’s epic crush on Brienne begiiiiiins

23. SHIT RAMSAY TELLS JON HE HAS RICKON

24. Sansa insisting on reading the rest of the letter from Ramsay is... made of steel. I’m here for her being the driving force behind this attempted rescue.

25. I didn’t realize that so many Dothraki knew about how Dany lost the baby and Drogo.

26. DID DANY JUST KILL ALL OF THE KHALS? Girl knows how to make an entrance? The optics here are sooooo problematic but she looks DAMNED impressive the plan in and of itself is sound - gets rid of the men who don’t respect her and shows herself to be indestructible in one power move...

6x05 OH NO THIS IS CALLED THE DOOR I THINK I KNOW WHAT IS COMING

1. Is it just me or are d and d writing more and more episodes themselves?

2. Sansa has had enough of Littlefinger’s bullshit. Making him face up to what HE LEFT HER TO WHEN HE MARRIED HER TO RAMSAY AND ABANDONED HER YES GOOD.

3. When he says “did he cut you” and Sansa talking about Ramsay not caring as long as she could give him an heir... does that mean what I think it does? FGM? I hate that I even wonder. (Still not sure about this, but I don’t put it past them to imply something horrific like that and then not come back to it.)

4. The more I see the waif fight, the cooler she gets.

5. Faceless men founded Braavos? Right I KNEW that.

6. Ok the play is fun... complete with sound effects. So interesting to see what people in Braavos think of everything that happened.

7. So... I would Lady Crane’s voice anywhere. Hi Phryne!

8. Oh wow look at all the CotF

9. THEY MADE THE WHITE WALKERS I did not know that and for YEARS before this season came out we had an au idea where that was true and I AM SCREAMING

10. AND THEY DID IT TO DEFEND AGAINST THE ANDALS AND WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO THE TREES

11. Yara’s speech was lovely, Theon supporting her was sweet, but Yara shouldn’t have needed a dude’s support to get that reaction from the crowd. She’s been on Pyke and being badass ALL HER LIFE. That being said, I like to think Yara would have been Queen in this version of things if Euron hadn’t showed up. What a Dick.

12. How does Euron go from wanting to marry Dany to allying with Cersei? I guess I’m about to find out.

13. Damphair knows cpr, idiot showrunners. don’t just let Euron lie there.

14. YES GET AWAY YARA AND THEON AND... a lot of the fleet? Good on them.

15. Jorah trying to leave Dany and her not letting him and commanding him to find a cure aaaahhhhh my feelings 😢

16. In the real world Tyrion would have been a great campaign manager.

17. If they wanted someone local... why get a red priestess from Volantis? Is this supposed to be the same woman? Do any of the people of Meereen even follow the faith of R’Hollor?

18. Varys having no time for the red faith’s bullshit is SO GOOD. It’s ok Varys you’re probably the most famous eunuch in the world right now. And whoop de doo a sorceress knows a story about a sorcerer it’s a small magical world don’t let her cow you.

19. ...whatcha doing, Bran???

20. Well that’s not creepy at all. Soooo many wights. Were there only... four white walkers including the night king? I’m so confused.

21. “The Umbers gave Rickon to Ramsay they can hang” YES SANSA

22. Why did she lie about getting info from Petyr? (And GOOD ON BRIENNE calling her on it)

23. Brienne calling Jon “a bit brooding” is the most hilarious thing ever. Somewhere Jaime Lannister is laughing his ass off. 

24. Yes wolfy clothes for everyone.

25. Awww Edd forgetting he’s acting lord commander is hilarious.

26. SO MANY WIGHTS DON’T DIE MIRA

27. Why are the children and the white walkers on opposite sides? Are these just about rogue CotF? EXPLAIN SHOW EXPLAIN

28. Cool visuals though... the night king walking through that fire was AWESOME.

29. Rickard LOOKS like a stark in that flashback.

30. RIP Bloodraven... glad you didn’t have to see how pointless all of this was.

31. Wait wait plain old wights can KILL THE CHILDREN? Dumb.

32. SUMMER NO I AM NOT OK WITH ANY OF THIS not Leaf either she’s a nice little tree person even if her motivations are unclear.

33. So Bran warging into Hodor in the present and in the past at the same time is what messed him up? Or something about the time folding and Bran BEING THERE?

34. That was upsetting as fuck about Hodor and I AM SAD EVEN THOUGH I KNEW IT WAS COMING

And... tumblr won’t let me post the whole thing. I had A LOT to say about some later episodes. Remember when I was going to keep this to three bullet points for each episode? Yeah me neither. 

Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles: Another Sitch in Time-Part 26

They fought against the vicious robot women. As they kept onward towards the citadel, more and more of those women tenaciously came at them. But the group was able to persist against them, not letting even one of them or one group of them, for that matter, stand in their way. The fight through was a seemingly never ending cycle of fighting through those vicious women as they came in droves.

Soon enough, just before they were about to enter the citadel, they ran into Cassiopeia. She was atop a floating turret, awaiting their arrival. Cassiopeia: “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the galaxy’s favorite Lombaxes and their scrawny red-headed chimp? Come to rescue your little friend?” Kim: “Oh, no, not another one of you annoying, oversized harpies!” Azimuth: “Our quarrel isn’t with you, Cassiopeia! Hand over Clank and we’ll cause no more trouble.”

Cassiopeia laughed out loud. Cassiopeia: “Cause no more trouble? Carina and Libra are dead thanks to you!” Kim: “Uh, that wasn’t on us. It was either kill or be killed, so we really didn’t have a choice there. They pretty much signed away their own lives.”

Cassiopeia was greatly enraged as she growled out loud. Cassiopeia: “Why you snarky little…! Well no matter. We’ve gotten what we need from the caretaker and now his time has come. Valkyries, destroy the Lombaxes and the pretty little girl!” Ratchet: “Oh, it is so on!”

Cassiopeia flew off on her hover turret. Azimuth: “She’s going to kill Clank! I’m going after her!”

Azimuth rushed off after Cassiopeia. Ratchet: “General, wait!”

Kim grabbed on to Ratchet by his wrist before he had the chance to rush off. Kim: “Ratchet! This way! We have to keep going!” Ratchet: “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

They ran off towards the direct path. Everywhere, the Valkyries came at them almost indefinitely, attacking them constantly. The entire run through consisted of this. As they kept going further, they soon ran into the citadel’s training course. There, Cassiopeia was awaiting their arrival. Cassiopeia: “Aw, you poor dears. You wandered into our training course. No organic being has ever survived. Farewell, at least you’ll both take solace in the fact that you died together.”

She departed from the room, the doors sealed shut and they were locked in. The room itself consisted on shock emitters below the floor that they were standing on. In the center of the room was a machine that dispersed bombs that can easily shatter the floor if they were allowed to blow up. Kim and Ratchet worked frantically and collectively to catch the bombs and toss them back into the machine. Once again, Kim’s Centurion Armor was really put to good use for this.

As they continued on, they could listen in on Cassiopeia conversing with Dr. Nefarious via a transmitter. Dr. Nefarious: “Cassie? What is the status to Unnecessarily Evil Initiative Omega-91?” Cassiopeia: “In motion, my love. Those annoying creatures are trapped in an overly elaborate death scenario designed to torture them into a slow and painful doom.” Dr. Nefarious: “That’s Unnecessarily Evil Initiative Omega-96! I said 91! Does NO ONE read my memos!?” Cassiopeia: “Stop yelling at me! Our merit says we need to COMMUNICATE!” Dr. Nefarious: “(grunt) This coming from someone who does nothing but text me while I’m at work? You are smothering me! Now get it done!” Kim: “Geez, sounds like they have one rough relationship.” Ratchet: “No kidding, I can’t tell who to feel sorry for more.”

They were eventually able to destroy the machine and shut down the shock emitters. Kim: “Call that a death trap? I’ve played lacrosse games more lethal than that.”

The second door opened up, they ran through it and continued on through the citadel. To be expected, they were bombarded by more of the Valkyries. Although, from what was heard on the transmitters, the women were not doing very well against the group, including Azimuth; they were pretty much plowing through the lot of them.

Shortly afterwards, they ran into yet another overly elaborate death scenario. Cassiopeia had also been waiting for them there as well. Cassiopeia: “Still alive? Well, let’s see how you 2 survive a silo of deadly nerve toxin.”

She departed as they were sealed in. A machine within the center of the room emitted the deadly nerve toxin. On the floor were switches needed to shut off the machine, but they were shifted around the room as the floor consisted of 3 rotating platforms. Cassiopeia happily mocked them. Cassiopeia: “Don’t forget to hold yer breaths!” Ratchet: “Kim! We have to clear out this toxin!” Kim: “Nough said.”

Both of them rushed around the room diligently to reach the switches. They persisted without hesitating as they scrambled to shut off the machine. They managed to reach all of the switches. Dr. Nefarious: “Unacceptable! They should be smoldering squishy carcasses by now!” Cassiopeia: “Don’t treat me like one of your subordinates! I’m not Courtney Gears!” Dr. Nefarious: “Nag, nag, nag! Change the channel, will ya? This is why office romances never work out!” Kim: “They’re really going all out on each other.” Ratchet: “Tell me about it, even this toxin is a lot less lethal than their arguing.”

This scenario consisted of 3 phases, each one harder than the last. They were eventually able to clear the second death trap. The machine was destroyed and the second door opened for them. They exited out of it.

As they were rushing through, Azimuth contacted them again. Azimuth: “Ratchet, come in. I’ve been through 3 buildings and still no sign of Clank. They must have moved him into Cassiopeia’s quarters.” Ratchet: “We’re tracking her right now, just hold off the rest of them.” Kim: “We’ll find him, Azimuth. I know we will.” Azimuth: “I’m sorry, you 2. I should have known the Valkyries faked that distress call. It was foolish of me to suggest the assault.” Kim: “We were all fooled, Azimuth. It happens to the best of us, really.” Ratchet: “Kim’s right. Besides, right now, all that matters is Clank.” Kim: “We won’t rest until we’ve found him. Count on it.” Azimuth: “Huh! I hate to admit it, but I’m glad that you’re here to support us, miss. You have a lot of spirit, for a human.” Kim: “Uh, gee, thanks. Always a pleasure, old timer.” Azimuth: “Alright, that’s enough patting you on the back, little lady. Now get to it.”

They severed communications with him. Kim: “Geez, even when he praises me, I still get put down by him.” Ratchet: “I know. I don’t like how he looks down on you. You never deserved to be treated like that, not by anyone. At least, I don’t believe that you do.”

Kim smiled at him, he smiled back. They continued forward.

They spent a brief period of time fighting off more of the Valkyries. They soon ran into a room with a glass floor. Ratchet: “Aw, man.”

Of course, Cassiopeia was there awaiting their arrival. You should know by now what that means. Cassiopeia: “Hello, my pretties. I see…” Ratchet: “Yeah, I know. Time for another death trap.” Kim: “So not the drama.” Cassiopeia: “Hmph! Well, let’s see if you consider falling to your doom to be "so not the drama”, girlie!“

They were sealed in as the floor below the glass floor opened up. The glass below them began to crack. Robots appeared continuously, threatening to blow up and shatter the glass. However, there were also Battery Bots running about as well as outlets for each of the bots. They frantically went around the entire place, tossing each of the Battery Bots into the outlets. They kept at this until they were able to override the death trap. Kim: "Like I said, so not the drama.” Ratchet: “These death traps are more annoying than they are terrifying.”

The next door opened for them. They proceeded further as they fought off more of the Valkyries. Just then, they were approached by Rufus. Kim: “Rufus!” Ratchet: “Whoa, I didn’t expect to see you here, little guy. What’s the matter? Where’s Clank?”

Rufus seemed very jittery and babbled a lot as he pointed in another direction. Kim: “I think he’s trying to tell us where Clank is.” Ratchet: “Lead the way, Rufus.”

He scampered off as they followed him.

Human Con

It’s Autumn, time for Human Con.

In their little pathetic world humans, pretend to be fantasy/fairytale/non-real creatures. Here, in our world, we pretend to be “ordinary humans”. It is fun. I am a venomous Gorgon-Medusa, which means if I decide not to turn anyone to stone, my snakes can bite them and kill them with poison; and I am going to be a “house wife”, my boyfriend is a Mountain Werewolf, to differ from the other kinds werewolves, the mountain ones were mostly in light gray to black shades, with more rough fur, to prevent the cold wind; and he is going to be a “garbage man”.

At the entry was full of “humans”. I saw one of my best friends, he was “school teacher”/Blood Demon, the one you sacrifice a virgin to, or promise your first born, or simply bleed to promise your future bloodline to, if you want something of him of course/. His sister /Succubus/, also girlfriend, because that is what demons do, was a “Britney Spears”, with sparkling short dress, and a microphone; and he was with an old light brown coat, black pants, glasses, and papers in hand, constantly asking around, if everyone present their homework in time. I saw a Warlock, dressed like a scientist, holding a sign “magic doesn’t exist”; there was one of the winged ones, dressed like “Castiel” from “Supernatural”, with a huge coat, to cover the wings; as he was asked where are his wings, and he answered with “Castiel has no wings, most of the time, he is looking like human, so do I”; his girlfriend was like “Hawkgirl” from “Justice League”.

-        Poor them, they cannot hide their wings, but at least they look dashing.

-        Any garbage to throw away? Or broken plates, or horrible dinner?

-        Hey, I cook very well.

-        I know – he whispered – I am still alive, aren’t I?

-        Bad dog!

-        Lizard!

We entered the main hall. So many humans, it felt like we were In their world. There wore some of the Larp/ Live action role-playing/ division: humans oriented – mostly shapeshifters, or shapeless creatures, wearing charms to look like humans, they were our personal spies, entering the humans world, to see what are they up to, does they believe in us, are they close to discover our world, or does they lure someone of us to enter theirs. They learned most used human language and customs. They constantly looked and acted like humans, it was amazing, but a little creepy.

A Tele-Mater, duplicate itself in all genders and ages, and cosplayed a “human family”, starting with the grandparents, their son and daughter, their significant others, with their parents and younger siblings as well, and the little children of them all … they were around 20 pieces. All arguing with each other, the little ones whining and screaming, it was a fuzz … walking disaster, humans cannot control their offspring, it is known, but it was quite fun.

Another Succubus was dressed like “crazy old cat lady”, she was indeed followed by bunch of cats. There were some small dragon dressed like the Gargoyles on the human churches.

Some of the eternal spirits took the shape of “atheists”, walking around saying “God doesn’t exist”, wearing white shirts and black skirts. While they were walking around, repeating this, they saw Cthulhu in his “human form”, tall slim boy, long black hair, pale skin, blue and black eye, and very charming smile, He was with his girlfriend Idh-Yaa, also in human form, with short dark red hair and green eyes. They were also dressed like “atheists”. After the shock at first, because not every day one meets an Ancient Gods awaken from their slumber, the spirits joined them, “preaching” others about the lack of existence of gods in general. I could tell the Elder Gods had a lot of fun proclaiming how they do not actually exist.

After lunch, was the cosplay show. Everyone, wo wanted and made the arrangement of course, go on stage, show their costume, some played a little performance. The “crazy old cat lady” counted her cats, they were one short, and she started yelling who stole her cat. A Soul eater, who was dressed as a school girl, cried because she didn’t score perfect on the test. The Warlock, explained some human science theories revealing that magic doesn’t exist and can be proved by science.

After the show we manage to take some pictures with the Ancient Ones, also with the “human family”.

The first price won the warlock, he was a high rang one, for his “magic doesn’t exist” - best costume idea and performance /the Ancient Ones, does not participate in the contest, as the eternal entities, because they would have won/. For most extravagant cosplay, won the “human family”. Best with the original one - the “school teacher”/the blood demon/. Some of the audience asked of it is possible to give their homework tomorrow, he joked that, if they sacrifice something their heart holds dear to a blood demon, an arrangement would be possible.

I took a picture with the Gargoyles, you know – flake power! Also some of the harpies volunteer to take pictures with me too, also with the winged ones. They were themselves, but looked cool too.

The Ancient Ones were in good mood, taking pictures and “blessing” stuff. All the magical creatures went to pay their respects, especially the shapeshifters, they were the biggest fans possible. I took some amazing pictures with some Mermaids too. They were dressed like “hairstylists”, and the Sirens were like “ugly girls”.

While traveling back home, I was beyond exhausted, but super thrilled by the experience. It was my first time attending Human Con with a costume. My boyfriend was a basic slut in this one, attending for 6 years straight. He knew almost everyone there. Like a legend!

-        I want to go again next Autumn!

-        It’s going to be next Spring. You know next Autumn is the Awaking of the Shadows.

-        Ah, yes. So next Spring then.

-        We are going to the Awaking right.

-        Of course, don’t be ridiculous. I want a picture with Cthulhu in his real form.

-        I bet you envy Idh-Yaa.

-        Who doesn’t?

-        She is an Ancient God as well, you know.

-        Yeah, yeah! But he was created first! No, he created himself, then he created her, to be perfect.

-        And she was.

-        I would’ve been very mad, if you weren’t talking about an Ancient Goddess. – we both laughed.

We make this little cons to mock human race, in a way. We did not quite hate the humans; we simply know them better than we would like to, as in “know your enemy”. We are not in war, but piece is not possible either, let us just say we are prepared, in case they invade us some day.

______________

@diyunho @rhina988 @nikkitasevoli @auntiemama1 @wolfgirl1074 @sookieblack12 @lady-grinning-soul-k

We Need Diverse Books: Black History Month Edition                                          *Books by black authors and/or have black protagonists

How It Went Down - Kekla Magoon //  When sixteen-year-old Tariq Johnson dies from two gunshot wounds, his community is thrown into an uproar. Tariq was black. The shooter, Jack Franklin, is white. In the aftermath of Tariq's death, everyone has something to say, but no two accounts of the events line up. Day by day, new twists further obscure the truth. Tariq's friends, family, and community struggle to make sense of the tragedy, and to cope with the hole left behind when a life is cut short. 

X - Ilyasah Shabazz & Kekla Magoon //  Cowritten by Malcolm X’s daughter, this riveting and revealing novel follows the formative years of the man whose words and actions shook the world. X follows Malcolm from his childhood to his imprisonment for theft at age twenty, when he found the faith that would lead him to forge a new path and command a voice that still resonates today.

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas // Sixteen-year-old Starr lives in two worlds: the poor neighbourhood where she was born and raised and her posh high school in the suburbs. The uneasy balance between them is shattered when Starr is the only witness to the fatal shooting of her unarmed best friend, Khalil, by a police officer. Now what Starr says could destroy her community. It could also get her killed.  

The Women of Brewster Place - Gloria Naylor //  We follow the stories of seven women living in Brewster Place, a bleak inner-city sanctuary, creating a powerful, moving portrait of the strengths, struggles, and hopes of black women in America. Vulnerable and resilient, openhanded and open-hearted, these women forge their lives in a place that in turn threatens and protects—a common prison and a shared home. 

Piecing Me Together - Renée Watson //  Jade believes she must get out of her neighborhood if she’s ever going to succeed. Her mother says she has to take every opportunity. She has. She accepted a scholarship to a mostly-white private school and even Saturday morning test prep opportunities. But some opportunities feel more demeaning than helpful. Like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for “at-risk” girls. Except really, it’s for black girls. From “bad” neighborhoods. 

Shadowshaper - Daniel José Older //  Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra's near-comatose abuelo begins to say "No importa" over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep.... Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

The Rock and The River - Kekla Magoon //  Set in 1968 Chicago, Thirteen -year-old Sam realizes it's not easy being the son of known civil rights activist Roland Childs. Especially when his older (and best friend), Stick, begins to drift away from him for no apparent reason. And then it happens: Sam finds something that changes everything forever. Sam has always had faith in his father, but when he finds literature about the Black Panthers under Stick's bed, he's not sure who to believe: his father or his best friend. Suddenly, nothing feels certain anymore. 

Monster - Walter Dean Myers //    Sixteen-year-old Steve Harmon is on trial for murder. A Harlem drugstore owner was shot and killed in his store, and the word is that Steve served as the lookout. Guilty or innocent, Steve becomes a pawn in the hands of "the system," cluttered with cynical authority figures and unscrupulous inmates, who will turn in anyone to shorten their own sentences. For the first time, Steve is forced to think about who he is as he faces prison, where he may spend all the tomorrows of his life. 

This Side of Home - Renée Watson //  Identical twins Nikki and Maya have been on the same page for everything—friends, school, boys and starting off their adult lives at a historically African-American college. But as their neighborhood goes from rough-and-tumble to up-and-coming, suddenly filled with pretty coffee shops and boutiques, Nikki is thrilled while Maya feels like their home is slipping away. Suddenly, the sisters who had always shared everything must confront their dissenting feelings on the importance of their ethnic and cultural identities and, in the process, learn to separate themselves from the long shadow of their identity as twins. 

Brown Girl Dreaming - Jacqueline Woodson //  Raised in South Carolina and New York, Woodson always felt halfway home in each place. In vivid poems, she shares what it was like to grow up as an African American in the 1960s and 1970s, living with the remnants of Jim Crow and her growing awareness of the Civil Rights movement. Touching and powerful, each poem is both accessible and emotionally charged, each line a glimpse into a child’s soul as she searches for her place in the world.  

Promise of Shadows - Justine Ireland //  Zephyr Mourning has never been very good at being a Harpy. She’d rather watch reality TV than learn forty-seven ways to kill a man, and she pretty much sucks at wielding magic. Zephyr was ready for a future pretending to be a normal human instead of a half-god assassin. But all that changes when her sister is murdered—and she uses a forbidden dark power to save herself from the same fate. 

Fake ID - Lamara Giles //   My name isn’t really Nick Pearson. I shouldn’t tell you where I’m from or why my family moved to Stepton, Virginia. I shouldn’t tell you who I really am, or my hair, eye, and skin color. And I definitely shouldn’t tell you about my friend Eli Cruz and the major conspiracy he was about to uncover when he died—right after I moved to town. About how I had to choose between solving his murder with his hot sister, Reya, and “staying low-key” like the Program has taught me. About how moving to Stepon changed my life forever. But I’m going to 

Endangered - Lamar Giles //  The one secret she cares about keeping—her identity—is about to be exposed. Unless Lauren "Panda" Daniels—an anonymous photoblogger who specializes in busting classmates and teachers in compromising positions—plays along with her blackmailer's little game of Dare or . . . Dare. But when the game turns deadly, Panda doesn't know what to do. And she may need to step out of the shadows to save herself . . . and everyone else on the Admirer's hit list. 

Don’t Fail Me Now - Una LaMarche //  Michelle and Leah only have one thing in common: Buck Devereaux, the biological father who abandoned them when they were little. After news trickles back to them that Buck is dying, they make the uneasy decision to drive across country to his hospice in California. Leah hopes for closure; Michelle just wants to give him a piece of her mind. Five people in a failing, old station wagon, living off free samples at food courts across America, and the most pressing question on Michelle’s mind is: Who will break down first--herself or the car? 

Flygirl - Sherri L Smith //  Ida Mae Jones dreams of flight. Her daddy was a pilot and being black didn't stop him from fulfilling his dreams. But her daddy's gone now, and being a woman, and being black, are two strikes against her. When America enters the war with Germany and Japan, the Army creates the WASP, the Women Airforce Service Pilots - and Ida suddenly sees a way to fly as well as do something significant to help her brother stationed in the Pacific. But even the WASP won't accept her as a black woman, forcing Ida Mae to make a difficult choice of "passing," of pretending to be white to be accepted into the program. Hiding one's racial heritage, denying one's family, denying one's self is a heavy burden. And while Ida Mae chases her dream, she must also decide who it is she really wants to be. 

Mare’s War - Tanita S Davis //  Meet Mare, a World War II veteran and a grandmother like no other. She was once a willful teenager who escaped her less than perfect life in the deep South and lied about her age to join the African American Battalion of the Women's Army Corps. Now she is driving her granddaughters—two willful teenagers in their own rite—on a cross-country road trip. The girls are initially skeptical of Mare's flippy wigs and stilletos, but they soon find themselves entranced by the story she has to tell, and readers will be too. 

Not Otherwise Specified - Hannah Mockowitz //  Etta is tired of dealing with all of the labels and categories that seem so important to everyone else in her small Nebraska hometown. Everywhere she turns, someone feels she's too fringe for the fringe. Not gay enough for the Dykes, her ex-clique, thanks to a recent relationship with a boy; not tiny and white enough for ballet, her first passion; and not sick enough to look anorexic (partially thanks to recovery). Etta doesn’t fit anywhere— until she meets Bianca, the straight, white, Christian, and seriously sick girl in Etta’s therapy group. Both girls are auditioning for Brentwood, a prestigious New York theater academy that is so not Nebraska. Bianca seems like Etta’s salvation, but how can Etta be saved by a girl who needs saving herself? 

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler //  When unattended environmental and economic crises lead to social chaos, not even gated communities are safe. In a night of fire and death Lauren Olamina, a minister's young daughter, loses her family and home and ventures out into the unprotected American landscape. But what begins as a flight for survival soon leads to something much more: a startling vision of human destiny... and the birth of a new faith. 

The Sun is Also a Star-Nicola Yoon //  Follow Natasha, a girl who believes in science and facts, as she meets Daniel, a dutiful son and dreamer, as they spend a single day together in New York - and try to stop Natasha’s family from being deported to Jamacia.

Everything, Everything - Nicola Yoon //  My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla. But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. His name is Olly. Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster 

Pointe - Brandy Colbert //  Theo is better now. She's eating again, dating guys who are almost appropriate, and well on her way to becoming an elite ballet dancer. But when her oldest friend, Donovan, returns home after spending four long years with his kidnapper, Theo starts reliving memories about his abduction—and his abductor. Donovan isn't talking about what happened, and even though Theo knows she didn't do anything wrong, telling the truth would put everything she's been living for at risk. But keeping quiet might be worse. 

The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl - Issa Rae //  Being an introvert in a world that glorifies cool isn’t easy. But  Rae covers everything from cybersexing in the early days of the Internet to deflecting unsolicited comments on weight gain, from navigating the perils of eating out alone and public displays of affection to learning to accept yourself—natural hair and all.

Tiny Pretty Things - Dhonielle Clayton & Sona Charaipotra //  Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama. Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever. When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best. 

Liar-Justine Larbalestier //  Micah will freely admit that she’s a compulsive liar, but that may be the one honest thing she’ll ever tell you. Over the years she’s duped her classmates, her teachers, and even her parents, and she’s always managed to stay one step ahead of her lies. That is, until her boyfriend dies under brutal circumstances and her dishonesty begins to catch up with her. But is it possible to tell the truth when lying comes as naturally as breathing? 

Hidden Figures - Margot Lee Shatterly //  Before John Glenn orbited the earth or Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, a group of dedicated female mathematicians known as “human computers” used pencils, slide rules, and adding machines to calculate the numbers that would launch rockets, and astronauts, into space. This book brings to life the stories of Dorothy Vaughan, Mary Jackson, Katherine Johnson, and Christine Darden, four African-American women who lived through the Civil Rights era, the Space Race, the Cold War, and the movement for gender equality, and whose work forever changed the face of NASA and the country. 

The Color Purple - Alice Walker //  Taking place mostly in rural Georgia, the story focuses on the life of women of color in the southern United States in the 1930s, addressing numerous issues including their exceedingly low position in American social culture. The novel has been the frequent target of censors and appears on the American Library Association list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 2000-2009 at number seventeen because of the sometimes explicit content, particularly in terms of violence. 

Sister Citizen- Melissa Harris Perry //  Not a traditional political science work concerned with office-seeking, voting, or ideology, Sister Citizen instead explores how African American women understand themselves as citizens and what they expect from political organizing. Harris-Perry shows that the shared struggle to preserve an authentic self and secure recognition as a citizen links together black women in America, from the anonymous survivors of Hurricane Katrina to the former First Lady of the United States. 

The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond - Brenda Woods //  Violet is a smart, funny, brown-eyed, brown-haired girl in a family of blonds. Her mom is white, and her dad, who died before she was born, was black. She attends a mostly white school where she sometimes feels like a brown leaf on a pile of snow. She’s tired of people asking if she’s adopted. Now that Violet’s eleven, she decides it’s time to learn about her African American heritage. And despite getting off to a rocky start trying to reclaim her dad’s side of the family, she can feel her confidence growing as the puzzle pieces of her life finally start coming together. 

The Summer of Chasing Mermaids - Sarah Ockler //  The youngest of six talented sisters, Elyse d'Abreau was destined for stardom - until a boating accident took everything from her. Now, the most beautiful singer in Tobago can't sing. She can't even speak. Seeking quiet solitude, Elyse accepts a friend's invitation to Atargatis Cove. Named for the mythical first mermaid, the Oregon seaside town is everything Elyse's home in the Caribbean isn't: an ocean too cold for swimming, parties too tame for singing, and people too polite to pry - except for one.

Black Boy White School - Brian F Walker  //  Anthony “Ant” Jones has never been outside his rough East Cleveland neighborhood when he’s given a scholarship to Belton Academy, an elite prep school in Maine.But at Belton things are far from perfect. Everyone calls him “Tony,” assumes he’s from Brooklyn, expects him to play basketball, and yet acts shocked when he fights back. As Anthony tries to adapt to a world that will never fully accept him, he’s in for a rude awakening: Home is becoming a place where he no longer belongs.

​Jane Porter Descends Into the Underworld: A Movement in Six Parts || Part 5: Evil Pleasures of the Mind

Part 1: Prelude Part 2: Sorrow Part 3: Interlude—Mother Part 4: The Harpies Part 5: Evil Pleasures of the Mind

Hotel California - The Eagles

You can check out any time you like But you can never leave

House of the Rising Sun - cover by Lauren O’Connell

It’s been the ruin of many a poor girl And God, I know I’m one

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - cover by Emily Browning

Who am I to disagree?

Gods and Monsters - Lana del Rey

Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly. Put your hands on my waist, do it softly. Me and God we don’t get along, so now I sing: No one’s gonna take my soul away .. Fuck yeah, give it to me, this is what I truly want

A/N: Sorta borrowed two characters for this one. They aren’t real though, it’s those Hell illusions so it’s more like impressions of people not the actual characters forgive me it’s def not in character for either of them, it’s just Hell--just wanted to clarify eeeeep

[TW: very, very explicit sex mentions, a general rape-y vibe--anyway be warned with this one]

Jane looked up as they flew, the wind blowing through her hair. She wondered what was above them now—rocks? Molten lava? A stormy sky?

All she saw was blackness, though, a dark void.

She wondered how it was all set up. The area of the Lustful had been pitch black as well, but the Swamp had been an eerie greenish-yellow and the paths had been light enough for her to see where she was going. Was there a moon? A sun? Or just a vast void of emptiness above them?

She gripped tighter on the harpy’s back, feeling the powerful wings beat against the dark, endless sky.

The wall was higher than she could have imagined, but eventually, the harpy soared above it and Jane looked down at the city that unfolded beneath them.

The harpy began to dive and Jane held on tight, her hair whipped behind her, the wind stinging at the open wound on her arm.

They landed on a rooftop, the outstretched talons of the harpy scraping against the cement. Jane took a moment to catch her breath, then slid off of the harpy’s back. She took a step, facing the harpy, then bowed her head towards her.

“Thank you,” she said.

The harpy looked her straight in the eye.

“One more challenge, you face,” she said. “Hardest.” Then she dipped her head low. “Farewell, human.”

And beating her great wings, she took off into the sky.

Jane craned her head back watching the harpy and then scanned the horizon.

In front of her was a city, towers and buildings, all crooked and ramshackle, buildings that looked sleek and modern, buildings that looked like they were built out of clay and straw, crumbling buildings that looked like they could have housed emperors once, buildings that looked like black, burned husks.

It was night, it seemed, the only light a flat grey from an unseen moon.

The rooftop Jane was standing on was flat, grey concrete, nondescript. There was a doorway and Jane reached for the handle, revealing a staircase that descended into the dark. She took a deep breath. She could hear the city around her, a loud cacophony of sirens and screaming and laughter that sent chills down her spine.

She stepped down.

It was quieter here, she heard only her footsteps, which echoed with each step. She kept a hand on the railing, feeling the rust break off beneath her fingers and dropping into the darkness. She counted the steps. 1…15…45…89…

The stairway ended in a barren room, the only light from the window, from the lights of the city, neon and white and flashing. The walls were a dull grey, the floor the same colour, everything in concrete, hard.

“Jane?”

She turned her head and standing across the room to her left was—Paul.

She could not see much of him, he was in the shadows, but she could see his smile. He started to walk towards her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice breathless.

“I ran after you,” he said. “You asked me if I would run, yeah?”

“No—I—I asked if you’d run after Perdita,” she said, but she walked towards him. Now that he was in the light of the window, she could see he was disheveled, shirt torn, blood streaked across his face, a heavy gash on his arm. Her heart lurched and she darted towards him, reaching down to rip another piece of fabric from her skirt. She pressed it against his wound, the blood warm beneath her fingers.

Tears crept into her eyes and her fingers fumbled as she tried to wrap the fabric.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said, not looking at him. “Who’s going to take care of Patch?”

Paul didn’t say anything; he cupped a hand on her cheek, tilting her head up towards him. She felt her heartbeat in her throat.

She had memories of this—of Paul looking at her the way he was looking at her now, his lips slightly parted. It made her head a little spinny, her fingers fumbled again.

“Come back, Jane,” he said, softly. “Come back—be with us. Me and Patch. We need you. I need you. We can be a family, yeah?”

Jane opened her mouth slightly as Paul dipped his head closer.

No-no-no-no---

Suddenly, they weren’t in that grey room anymore, but in front of a fireplace. And Jane’s clothes were clean and there was not a gash on Paul’s arm, but he still held her face tenderly. The fire crackled. Jane smelled fresh bread, she smelled broth, she heard—

She heard footsteps and laughter and she turned her head and there was Patch, only Patch looked about five now and he ran towards them, arms outstretched, grabbing them both around the legs.

“Mummy!” he said. “Daddy!”

Paul laughed, leaning down to ruffle his hair, then scooped him up.

“Let’s get some dinner now,” he said, then leaned quickly to press his lips to Jane’s cheek.

He pulled away and Jane saw that he wasn’t wearing a tunic and sandals, but a jumper and jeans. Normal clothes. She blinked, looking at the surroundings. There were family pictures over the mantelpiece—Jane, Paul, and Patch, all smiling.

Jane wrapped an arm around herself and—

She looked down, gasping slight, at her bulging stomach, which curved in the way only pregnancy could.

She was due in two months. It was going to be a girl. They were going to name her Ellie.

In a daze, she walked towards the dining table, where dinner was set out, fresh bread and soup.

“Mummy, you look funny,” said Patch, with a giggle.

“Mummy had a long day at work. Her gallery’s having a big show next week. Remember, we’ve got you that nice little suit?”

Jane sat, staring straight ahead, her head spinning still.

She worked at a gallery—she was the head curator. They were having a show, they were having a show, and she had a gorgeous green dress which hung loosely over her pregnant stomach. She was going to have a little girl. They had painted the nursery already, her and Paul, they’d picked out the first books for her library.

(She dipped a spoon in the broth).

They had bought lots of plush animals. The walls were yellow. Patch was excited about having a sister—

The spoon clattered to the bowl.

No. Patch already had a sister. He had a sister and he had a mother and she was not that mother and—

Jane stood up.

“This is a lie,” she shouted.

Paul looked at her, only she knew it wasn’t Paul, his eyes were too dark and there was a twist in his lips that she knew would never be there.

“Isn’t this what you want, Jane?” he asked, and his voice was velvet, did not sound like Paul. “You’re a mother. You’re loved. You have an art gallery.”

“No—this isn’t what I want—“

The minute she said that, she was no longer standing at a dining table.

She was standing, back pressed against a brick wall, wearing a short skirt, a top that plunged low. There was loud music coming from somewhere.Everything was bathed in a reddish-pink light, bright neno. She smelled smoke. She smelled sweat and sex.

“Is this what you want?” and it was Paul again, leaning against the wall as well, facing towards her, a hand on her hip, his thumb stroking the bare bit of skin on her waist.

“Don’t you miss it?”

It was another voice this time, from behind her, and she knew who it was without looking, was familiar with the warmth pressed against her back, the lips that kissed the corner of her neck.

“Don’t you miss me?” Tom said, whispering in her ear, his breath tickling the one little spot that sent shivers down her spine.

“’course she does,” said another voice and it was Hades walking towards her.

As soon as he reached her, he curved a hand around her throat, closing his fingers ‘round it and let out a dry laugh.

“She misses it rough,” he said, tightening his grip, and Jane gasped a little for air, and the three men around her laughed. She pressed her legs together, heartbeat quickening.

“Y’know, she used to have me tie her up,” said Tom, whose hand had slid down to her ass. “Had all these silk ties, ropes sometimes.” He slapped her. “Had me spank her sometimes.” With his other hand, he yanked Jane’s hair back so that she could look at him.

She felt her breathing get faster.

She hadn’t seen Tom face-to-face in years.

She could kiss him now—let him fuck her against this wall, she wanted to feel him inside her again, wanted Hades’s hand around her throat, looking Paul right in the eye--

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Tom said, lip curling up. “Liked taking it from behind and liked it when I pulled on your hair?”

“She wants it again,” said Paul and his hand slipped from her waist to her thigh, creeping between her legs.  “Misses that.”

“I told her,” said Hades, crocking up an eyebrow. “That professor of hers doesn’t fuck her like she deserves, the slut.”

Professor—

Jane’s breaths were ragged. She looked Hades right in the eye (it was not Hades, it was this place, this place playing tricks on her) and she spat on him.

“I don’t WANT this!” she yelled, kicking back, hitting Tom (not Tom, Tom was in San Francisco, Tom wasn’t here, could not be here) in the groin.

She flailed her arms and then she ran.

Everything was blurry—all lights, fleeting, fast, she didn’t know where she was going, just kept running, until she tripped, falling forward, hands scraping against a cold, hard floor. Jane blinked. The floor was grey concrete, the only light from a window. She was wearing sandals again, a long Grecian tunic.

She was back in the room.

Jane pressed her hands against the cold floor. She choked back a sob. She tried to count her breaths, her heartbeats. She got up. She walked straight forward and out the door.

The Abyss

It was dark, with an enfolding blackness that pressed on Lyra's eyes so heavily that she almost felt the weight of the thousands of tons of rock above them. The only light they had came from the luminous tail of the Lady Salmakia's dragonfly, and even that was fading; for the poor insects had found no food in the world of the dead, and the Chevalier's had died not long before. So while Tialys sat on Will's shoulder, Lyra held the Lady's dragonfly in her hands as the Lady soothed it and whispered to the trembling creature, feeding it first on crumbs of biscuit and then on her own blood. If Lyra had seen her do that, she would have offered hers, since there was more of it; but it was all she could do to concentrate on placing her feet safely and avoiding the lowest parts of the rock above. No-Name the harpy had led them into a system of caves that would bring them, she said, to the nearest point in the world of the dead from which they could open a window to another world. Behind them came the endless column of ghosts. The tunnel was full of whispers, as the foremost encouraged those behind, as the brave urged on the fainthearted, as the old gave hope to the young. "Is it much farther, No-Name?" said Lyra quietly. "Because this poor dragonfly's dying, and then his light'll go out." The harpy stopped and turned to say: "Just follow. If you can't see, listen. If you can't hear, feel." Her eyes shone fierce in the gloom. Lyra nodded and said, "Yes, I will, but I'm not as strong as I used to be, and I'm not brave, not very anyway. Please don't stop. I'll follow you - we all will. Please keep going, No-Name." The harpy turned back and moved on. The dragonfly shine was getting dimmer by the minute, and Lyra knew it would soon be completely gone. But as she stumbled forward, a voice spoke just beside her - a familiar voice. "Lyra - Lyra, child..." And she turned in delight. "Mr. Scoresby! Oh, I'm so glad to hear you! And it is you - I can see, just - oh, I wish I could touch you!" In the faint, faint light she made out the lean form and the sardonic smile of the Texan aeronaut, and her hand reached forward of its own accord, in vain. "Me too, honey. But listen to me - they're working some trouble out there, and it's aimed at you - don't ask me how. Is this the boy with the knife?" Will had been looking at him, eager to see this old companion of Lyra's; but now his eyes went right past Lee to look at the ghost beside him. Lyra saw at once who it was, and marveled at this grown-up vision of Will - the same jutting jaw, the same way of holding his head. Will was speechless, but his father said: "Listen - there's no time to talk about this - just do exactly as I say. Take the knife now and find a place where a lock has been cut from Lyra's hair." His tone was urgent, and Will didn't waste time asking why. Lyra, her eyes wide with alarm, held up the dragonfly with one hand and felt her hair with the other. "No," said Will, "take your hand away - I can't see." And in the faint gleam, he could see it: just above her left temple, there was a little patch of hair that was shorter than the rest. "Who did that?" said Lyra. "And - " "Hush," said Will, and asked his father's ghost, "What must I do?" "Cut the short hair off right down to her scalp. Collect it carefully, every single hair. Don't miss even one. Then open another world - any will do - and put the hair through into it, and then close it again. Do it now, at once." The harpy was watching, the ghosts behind were crowding close. Lyra could see their faint faces in the dimness. Frightened and bewildered, she stood biting her lip while Will did as his father told him, his face close up to the knifepoint in the paling dragonfly light. He cut a little hollow space in the rock of another world, put all the tiny golden hairs into it, and replaced the rock before closing the window. And then the ground began to shake. From somewhere very deep came a growling, grinding noise, as if the whole center of the earth were turning on itself like a vast millwheel, and little fragments of stone began to fall from the roof of the tunnel. The ground lurched suddenly to one side. Will seized Lyra's arm, and they clung together as the rock under their feet began to shift and slide, and loose pieces of stone came tumbling past, bruising their legs and feet - The two children, sheltering the Gallivespians, crouched down with their arms over their heads; and then in a horrible sliding movement they found themselves being borne away down to the left, and they held each other fiercely, too breathless and shaken even to cry out. Their ears were filled with the roar of thousands of tons of rock tumbling and rolling down with them. Finally their movement stopped, though all around them smaller rocks were still tumbling and bounding down a slope that hadn't been there a minute before. Lyra was lying on Will's left arm. With his right hand he felt for the knife; it was still there at his belt. "Tialys? Salmakia?" said Will shakily. "Both here, both alive," said the Chevalier's voice near his ear. The air was full of dust, and of the cordite smell of smashed rock. It was hard to breathe, and impossible to see: the dragonfly was dead. "Mr. Scoresby?" said Lyra. "We can't see anything... What happened?" "I'm here," said Lee, close by. "I guess the bomb went off, and I guess it missed." "Bomb?" said Lyra, frightened; but then she said, "Roger - are you there?" "Yeah," came the little whisper. "Mr. Parry, he saved me. I was going to fall, and he caught hold." "Look," said the ghost of John Parry. "But hold still to the rock, and don't move." The dust was clearing, and from somewhere there was light: a strange faint golden glimmer, like a luminous misty rain falling all around them. It was enough to strike their hearts ablaze with fear, for it lit up what lay to their left, the place into which it was all falling - or flowing, like a river over the edge of a waterfall. It was a vast black emptiness, like a shaft into the deepest darkness. The golden light flowed into it and died. They could see the other side, but it was much farther away than Will could have thrown a stone. To their right, a slope of rough stones, loose and precariously balanced, rose high into the dusty gloom. The children and their companions were clinging to what was not even a ledge - just some lucky hand¨C and footholds - on the edge of that abyss, and there was no way out except forward, along the slope, among the shattered rocks and the teetering boulders, which, it seemed, the slightest touch would send hurtling down below. And behind them, as the dust cleared, more and more of the ghosts were gazing in horror at the abyss. They were crouching on the slope, too frightened to move. Only the harpies were unafraid; they took to their wings and soared above, scanning backward and forward, flying back to reassure those still in the tunnel, flying ahead to search for the way out. Lyra checked: at least the alethiometer was safe. Suppressing her fear, she looked around, found Roger's little face, and said: "Come on, then, we're all still here, we en't been hurt. And we can see now, at least. So just keep going, just keep on moving. We can't go any other way than round the edge of this..." She gestured at the abyss. "So we just got to keep going ahead. I swear Will and me'll just keep on till we do. So don't be scared, don't give up, don't lag behind. Tell the others. I can't look back all the time because I got to watch where I'm going, so I got to trust you to come on steady after us, all right?" The little ghost nodded. And so, in a shocked silence, the column of the dead began their journey along the edge of the abyss. How long it took, neither Lyra nor Will could guess; how fearful and dangerous it was, they were never able to forget. The darkness below was so profound that it seemed to pull the eyesight down into it, and a ghastly dizziness swam over their minds when they looked. Whenever they could, they looked ahead of them fixedly, on this rock, that foothold, this projection, that loose slope of gravel, and kept their eyes from the gulf; but it pulled, it tempted, and they couldn't help glancing into it, only to feel their balance tilting and their eyesight swimming and a dreadful nausea gripping their throats. From time to time the living ones looked back and saw the infinite line of the dead winding out of the crack they'd come through: mothers pressing their infants' faces to their breasts, aged fathers clambering slowly, little children clutching the skirts of the person in front, young boys and girls of Roger's age keeping staunch and careful, so many of them... And all following Will and Lyra, so they still hoped, toward the open air. But some didn't trust them. They crowded close behind, and both children felt cold hands on their hearts and their entrails, and they heard vicious whispers: "Where is the upper world? How much farther?" "We're frightened here!" "We should never have come - at least back in the world of the dead we had a little light and a little company - this is far worse!" "You did a wrong thing when you came to our land! You should have stayed in your own world and waited to die before you came down to disturb us!" "By what right are you leading us? You are only children! Who gave you the authority?" Will wanted to turn and denounce them, but Lyra held his arm; they were unhappy and frightened, she said. Then the Lady Salmakia spoke, and her clear, calm voice carried a long way in the great emptiness. "Friends, be brave! Stay together and keep going! The way is hard, but Lyra can find it. Be patient and cheerful and we'll lead you out, don't fear!" Lyra felt herself strengthened by hearing this, and that was really the Lady's intention. And so they toiled on, with painful effort. "Will," said Lyra after some minutes, "can you hear that wind?" "Yes, I can," said Will. "But I can't feel it at all. And I tell you something about that hole down there. It's the same kind of thing as when I cut a window. The same kind of edge. There's something special about that kind of edge; once you've felt it you never forget it. And I can see it there, just where the rock falls away into the dark. But that big space down there, that's not another world like all the others. It's different. I don't like it. I wish I could close it up." "You haven't closed every window you've made." "No, because I couldn't, some of them. But I know I should. Things go wrong if they're left open. And one that big..." He gestured downward, not wanting to look. "It's wrong. Something bad will happen." While they were talking together, another conversation had been taking place a little way off: the Chevalier Tialys was talking quietly with the ghosts of Lee Scoresby and John Parry. "So what are you saying, John?" said Lee. "You're saying we ought not to go out into the open air? Man, every single part of me is aching to join the rest of the living universe again!" "Yes, and so am I," said Will's father. "But I believe that if those of us who are used to fighting could manage to hold ourselves back, we might be able to throw ourselves into the battle on Asriel's side. And if it came at the right moment, it might make all the difference." "Ghosts?" said Tialys, trying to hold the skepticism from his voice, and failing. "How could you fight?" "We couldn't hurt living creatures, that's quite true. But Asriel's army is going to contend with other kinds of being as well." "Those Specters," said Lee. "Just what I was thinking. They make for the daemon, don't they? And our daemons are long gone. It's worth a try, Lee." "Well, I'm with you, my friend." "And you, sir," said John Parry's ghost to the Chevalier: "I have spoken to the ghosts of your people. Will you live long enough to see the world again, before you die and come back as a ghost?" "It's true, our lives are short compared to yours. I have a few days more to live," said Tialys, "and the Lady Salmakia a little longer, perhaps. But thanks to what those children are doing, our exile as ghosts will not be permanent. I have been proud to help them." They moved on. And that abominable fall yawned all the time, and one little slip, one footstep on a loose rock, one careless handhold, would send you down forever and ever, thought Lyra, so far down you'd die of starvation before you ever hit the bottom, and then your poor ghost would go on falling and falling into an infinite gulf, with no one to help, no hands to reach down and lift you out, forever conscious and forever falling... Oh, that would be far worse than the gray, silent world they were leaving, wouldn't it? A strange thing happened to her mind then. The thought of falling induced a kind of vertigo in Lyra, and she swayed. Will was ahead of her, just too far to reach, or she might have taken his hand; but at that moment she was more conscious of Roger, and a little flicker of vanity blazed up for a moment in her heart. There'd been an occasion once on Jordan College roof when just to frighten him, she'd defied her vertigo and walked along the edge of the stone gutter. She looked back to remind him of it now. She was Roger's Lyra, full of grace and daring; she didn't need to creep along like an insect. But the little boy's whispering voice said, "Lyra, be careful  - remember, you en't dead like us - " And it seemed to happen so slowly, but there was nothing she could do: her weight shifted, the stones moved under her feet, and helplessly she began to slide. In the first moment it was annoying, and then it was comic: How silly! she thought. But as she utterly failed to hold on to anything, as the stones rolled and tumbled beneath her, as she slid down toward the edge, gathering speed, the horror of it slammed into her. She was going to fall. There was nothing to stop her. It was already too late. Her body convulsed with terror. She wasn't aware of the ghosts who flung themselves down to try and catch her, only to find her hurtling through them like a stone through mist; she didn't know that Will was yelling her name so loudly that the abyss resounded with it. Instead, her whole being was a vortex of roaring fear. Faster and faster she tumbled, down and down, and some ghosts couldn't bear to watch; they hid their eyes and cried aloud. Will felt electric with fear. He watched in anguish as Lyra slid farther and farther, knowing he could do nothing, and knowing he had to watch. He couldn't hear the desperate wail he was uttering any more than she could. Another two seconds - another second - she was at the edge, she couldn't stop, she was there, she was falling - And out of the dark swooped that creature whose claws had raked her scalp not long before, No-Name the harpy, woman-faced, bird-winged, and those same claws closed tight around the girl's wrist. Together they plunged on down, the extra weight almost too much for the harpy's strong wings, but they beat and beat and beat, and her claws held firm, and slowly, heavily, slowly, heavily, the harpy carried the child up and up out of the gulf and brought her limp and fainting to Will's reaching arms. He held her tight, pressing her to his chest, feeling the wild beat of her heart against his ribs. She wasn't Lyra just then, and he wasn't Will; she wasn't a girl, and he wasn't a boy. They were the only two human beings in that vast gulf of death. They clung together, and the ghosts clustered around, whispering comfort, blessing the harpy. Closest at hand were Will's father and Lee Scoresby, and how they longed to hold her, too; and Tialys and Salmakia spoke to No-Name, praising her, calling her the savior of them all, generous one, blessing her kindness. As soon as Lyra could move, she reached out trembling for the harpy and put her arms around her neck, kissing and kissing her ravaged face. She couldn't speak. All the words, all the confidence, all the vanity had been shaken out of her. They lay still for some minutes. Once the terror had begun to subside, they set off again, Will holding Lyra's hand tightly in his good one. They crept forward, testing each spot before they put any weight on it, a process so slow and wearisome that they thought they might die of fatigue; but they couldn't rest, they couldn't stop. How could anyone rest, with that fearful gulf below them? And after another hour of toil, he said to her: "Look ahead. I think there's a way out..." It was true: the slope was getting easier, and it was even possible to climb slightly, up and away from the edge. And ahead: wasn't that a fold in the wall of the cliff? Could that really be a way out? Lyra looked into Will's brilliant, strong eyes and smiled. They clambered on, up and farther up, with every step moving farther from the abyss. And as they climbed, they found the ground firmer, the handholds more secure, the footholds less liable to roll and twist their ankles. "We must have climbed a fair way now," Will said. "I could try the knife and see what I find." "Not yet," said the harpy. "Farther to go yet. This is a bad place to open. Better place higher up." They carried on quietly, hand, foot, weight, move, test, hand, foot... Their fingers were raw, their knees and hips were trembling with the effort, their heads ached and rang with exhaustion. They climbed the last few feet up to the foot of the cliff, where a narrow defile led a little way into the shadow. Lyra watched with aching eyes as Will took the knife and began to search the air, touching, withdrawing, searching, touching again. "Ah," he said. "You found an open space?" "I think so..." "Will," said his father's ghost, "stop a moment. Listen to me." Will put down the knife and turned. In all the effort he hadn't been able to think of his father, but it was good to know he was there. Suddenly he realized that they were going to part for the last time. "What will happen when you go outside?" Will said. "Will you just vanish?" "Not yet. Mr. Scoresby and I have an idea. Some of us will remain here for a little while, and we shall need you to let us into Lord Asriel's world, because he might need our help. What's more," he went on somberly, looking at Lyra, "you'll need to travel there yourselves, if you want to find your daemons again. Because that's where they've gone." "But Mr. Parry," said Lyra, "how do you know our daemons have gone into my father's world?" "I was a shaman when I was alive. I learned how to see things. Ask your alethiometer - it'll confirm what I say. But remember this about daemons," he said, and his voice was intense and emphatic. "The man you knew as Sir Charles Latrom had to return to his own world periodically; he could not live permanently in mine. The philosophers of the Guild of the Torre degli Angeli, who traveled between worlds for three hundred years or more, found the same thing to be true, and gradually their world weakened and decayed as a result. "And then there is what happened to me. I was a soldier; I was an officer in the Marines, and then I earned my living as an explorer; I was as fit and healthy as it's possible for a human to be. Then I walked out of my own world by accident, and couldn't find the way back. I did many things and learned a great deal in the world I found myself in, but ten years after I arrived there, I was mortally sick. "And this is the reason for all those things: your daemon can only live its full life in the world it was born in. Elsewhere it will eventually sicken and die. We can travel, if there are openings into other worlds, but we can only live in our own. Lord Asriel's great enterprise will fail in the end for the same reason: we have to build the Republic of Heaven where we are, because for us there is no elsewhere. "Will, my boy, you and Lyra can go out now for a brief rest; you need that, and you deserve it; but then you must come back into the dark with me and Mr. Scoresby for one last journey." Will and Lyra exchanged a look. Then he cut a window, and it was the sweetest thing they had ever seen. The night air filled their lungs, fresh and clean and cool; their eyes took in a canopy of dazzling stars, and the shine of water somewhere below, and here and there groves of great trees, as high as castles, dotting the wide savanna. Will enlarged the window as wide as he could, moving across the grass to left and right, making it big enough for six, seven, eight to walk through abreast, out of the land of the dead. The first ghosts trembled with hope, and their excitement passed back like a ripple over the long line behind them, young children and aged parents alike looking up and ahead with delight and wonder as the first stars they had seen for centuries shone through into their poor starved eyes. The first ghost to leave the world of the dead was Roger. He took a step forward, and turned to look back at Lyra, and laughed in surprise as he found himself turning into the night, the starlight, the air... and then he was gone, leaving behind such a vivid little burst of happiness that Will was reminded of the bubbles in a glass of champagne. The other ghosts followed Roger, and Will and Lyra fell exhausted on the dew-laden grass, every nerve in their bodies blessing the sweetness of the good soil, the night air, the stars.

annoyed at first sight: the saga

note: some salt for rachel @madcatassassin to keep you company on the plane. consider it the public declaration of love you asked for on twitter. 

           Lea was so, so, so annoying.

           He'd thought he was making a good decision, for once, starting to come to the little café halfway between his apartment and the law firm. And then it turned out his next-door neighbor owned the place, and everything went downhill from there.

           First things first, she was not a good neighbor.

           She cooked at all hours, which was understandable, because she did run a café, but when you're cramming for the third exam in a row­, you do not need somebody banging pots and pans and slamming cabinet doors and then making ridiculously delicious smells appear like spirits mocking all of his sad peanut-butter-and-nothing lunches. And then she took up the only elevator with her grocery runs, making him wait forever with his armloads of files and textbooks. Plus she sang in the shower, terribly, right next to his bedroom.

           Secondly, going to her café was overall just a weird experience. She was so chipper in the mornings when she worked the register, which he considered an affront to anyone who, like himself, did not like mornings. It felt like a personal attack to have a blue-haired girl yelping "Hi! How are you? I'm fantastic!" in his face, when he barely felt alive. And okay, he'd gotten used to seeing Safiya Waheed, harpy editor of monster fashion magazine Sublimity, draped in her Hermés scarves and sipping veal bone broth in a china teacup, and he'd even gotten over seeing the leshy Rabbi Roland Gish stopping by for his daily breakfast-in-a-muffin and strawberry rhubarb salad to-go. Still he did not really like getting offered blood-red velvet milkshakes, or crybaby-back rib sandwiches.

           ("There isn't any human meat in any of our dishes," Lea had assured him. He was not quite so sure, still, because Arnold Gustavsson the ice giant really, really liked those crybaby-back ribs.)

           He didn't understand why he kept going. Or why everything in him went electric when Lea was working front of the house.

           It had nothing to do with how she seemed to smile with the entirety of her being, looking like summer itself in a sundress with a smear of flour on her cheek and wet strands of teal hair sticking to the side of her neck.

           It was probably hatred.

~

           Julius was so, so, so annoying.

           It was awful to think badly of a customer, and ordinarily Lea would absolutely never, but he was also her neighbor, and that made things different.

           Firstly, he stayed up just as late as she did, but he stayed up late studying instead of cooking, and apparently had to have absolute silence in the entire building or something when he studied. Yet he somehow was perfectly happy to rev up his motorcycle at any and all hours. There was no way she was the only one bothered about that, but no, she put up with it, but he complained all the time about the sounds of her cooking. She'd tried to smooth things over by showing up at his doorstep with some pastries, once.

           It turned out he was allergic to them.

           Or just to joy.

           Secondly, he complained about the café. Granted, Buyan was a little eccentric, just like her. But he didn't have to tell her that her overnight oats looked like sludge in a to-go cup (even if they did–that was a very short phase), or tell her that the peanut-butter-celery tarts sounded disgusting (even if she had really not anticipated that sticky stringy texture), or make faces every time somebody ordered a blood-red velvet milkshake (those were actually really good, excuse him). It alienated other customers. Besides, last year during Ice Cream Flavor Fest, he'd come in and surveyed the list of flavors–it had been cereal themed last year, and Cinnamon Toast Crunch had been the top contender–and then ordered a plain vanilla after some particularly judgmental faces, and that meant he was really boring. And he was definitely a werewolf, but he never wanted to try any of her werewolf specials.

           Also, Julius hadn't responded to her friend request on Snapchat, and then deleted his account three weeks later. And she couldn't find him on Instagram.

           Which was a combination of rude and downright suspicious.

           She didn't understand why he kept coming. Or why she couldn't stop looking towards the door every morning until he walked through it.

           It had nothing to do with how he had the most thoughtful eyes of anyone she'd ever met, with his tie loosened and his cuffs rolled up to his elbows cramming for dear life at one of her tables while sloshing through his morning coffee.

           It was probably hatred.

~

           The thing about hatred is that over time, it needs fuel.

           In which case, they had plenty, but most notable were two incidences in particular.

 The Cabbage Incident

           Julius was sick of eating ramen and peanut butter.

           (Separately. Not together. Though once he had almost been tempted.)

           He'd gone to the grocery store late at night after realizing he had been reading the same chapter in one of his many textbooks over and over again. He needed some kind of sustenance. Real sustenance. The kind that would make him feel more like a capable working adult with his life together, and only something green and leafy would do.

           He was starting to feel better about himself, pushing his empty cart down the empty aisles, like a real person who ate real meals, until he caught sight of a familiar head of damp teal hair.

~

           After many, many offerings of homemade mochis and her own specially mixed chili oil in mason jars, after so much begging, Lea had finally gotten Brandon's grandmother's secret recipe for lionhead soup, and she had to try it out immediately.

           She would not be able to rest until she had.

           And to do that she needed her own ground pork meatballs­–a pinch to make, ever since that one exclusively handmade pasta phase she went through–and vermicelli noodles, and ginger, and sesame oil, and soy sauce.

           Oh, and one head of Napa cabbage.

           It was kind of a nuisance that it was the last one left, because it was not quite the perfect head of cabbage, but it was late and she would forgive this little grocery store because they were at least open. And it would do.

           Until a tall shadow loomed overhead.

~

           "Oh, um, hey, Lea. Um. I kinda need that cabbage."

           "What? No. Julius, I need this cabbage. It's really important, haha."

           "No, you don't understand. I really, really need that cabbage. Tonight."

           "No, you don't understand. I really need this cabbage. Tonight."

           "What do you need the cabbage for? It's not like you can use one head of cabbage to feed an entire café."

           "I'm testing out recipes so I could potentially feed an entire café, okay? It's important! It's how I make my living!"

           "You could cook something else! You have plenty of weird ideas all the time! You change your menus like every other day! I'm going to eat this cabbage for my actual meals. I am literally going to be living off of it."

           "It's every other week, jackass! Which you would notice if you didn't spend all of your time judging everything in the place! Also, you could eat literally anything else!"

           "Like what, like all the other things you could be cooking?"

           "ATTENTION, ALL CUSTOMERS: WE ARE CLOSING IN FIVE MINUTES. THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING."

           "Lea. That cabbage is so beat up. You don't want it."

           "Then why would you want it?"

           "I'm not testing out recipes! I'm just a poor law student. Your results are going to be skewed with this sad cabbage."

           "It's fine! I'll get the basic idea and see if the recipe is easy enough to do on a large scale! I can perfect the taste later!"

           "Much later, if those peanut-butter-and-celery tarts were anything to go by."

           "Nobody forced you to buy one!"

           "Yeah, um, you did."

           "Yeah, obviously I did. How could I possibly force you to buy something?"

           "You ... it was your face!"

           "My face?!?"

~

           "Ma'am. Sir. I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you from our store for disturbing the other customers."

           "WHAT OTHER CUSTOMERS?"

           "SHE STARTED IT!"

 The Not-Date Incident

           There were a lot of things Julius hated about his workplace: the corruption, the astonishing amount of ignorance, and the strange animosity towards Starbucks, just to name a few.

           Oh, and Kyle from upstairs.

           Kyle, with his hand-tailored suits, his fraternity ring practically implanted into his finger, and his continuous bragging about that one time the Laurents had some issue arise while they were on vacation and had him specially flown to their lake house to discuss it. Luckily Kyle never spoke to him, because Kyle didn't know he existed, because Kyle didn't pay attention to anyone who couldn't potentially weigh in on his paycheck. Kyle only descended to their floor to request paperwork or something, but usually ended up boasting about starting to be assigned to some Laurent Industries property or something.

           Normally when one of the Laurent Industries lackeys came down he tried to eavesdrop on their conversations, just to feel like he was making headway into his investigation on them. But he'd long since learned to tune out Kyle.

           So when Kyle started yelping as usual about taking some café owner to dinner, complete with some jokes about sharp fangs and liking it rough, he completely ignored it.

~

           There were a lot of things Lea was willing to risk for Buyan. The café was her dream-child, her personal project. She poured money and time and effort into it all the time.

           She did not expect to be risking her dignity like this when she started it, though.

           But she really needed Laurent Industries' sympathies and backing, especially as one of the few monster-serving cafés in this part of town, and especially because Buyan was new and still in need of some economic babysitting.

           So when Kyle, her Laurent Industries representative who had the sex appeal of a moldy potato, asked her to dinner to discuss the property, she put on a cute blouse and a floral print skirt and let him take her to a nice Italian restaurant downtown.

~

           It had not been his idea to go to Mangia's that night. He'd gotten a gift card from a coworker, and he'd done well on that torts midterm, and it was nice, okay, it was nice to have a real dinner for once. Sure, it was kind of weird to go to a restaurant that had clearly cornered the romantic Italian angle, with the soft dim golden lighting and violins playing gently, but he could handle it.

           But then he looked over at the couple being seated next to him.

           There was Kyle, atrocious salmon-colored bermuda shorts flashing in all of their hideous glory as he pulled out a chair for a woman who seemed bent on haunting Julius wherever he went.

           “I meant to tell you earlier that you look beautiful tonight, Lea,” Kyle is saying.

           Yeah. She does.

~

           It should not interest her that Julius is at a relatively romantic Italian restaurant all by himself.

           She should not be wondering whether or not it’s because he’s waiting on a date.

           Kyle is talking about the time he saw the Laurents’ vacation home because of some pressing legal issue. At first she thought it would be a great opportunity to segue into them funding Buyan, but it becomes increasingly obvious Kyle is only really interested in talking about himself.

           “No homo, but I definitely saw Damien and Elena lounging by the pool. It was like a GQ photoshoot over there.”

           Lea stirs her ravioli – truffle oil, porcini mushrooms, some cheese that she is feeling way more chemistry with than Kyle – and definitely does not gaze over Kyle’s shoulder at Julius.

           His date, if it is a date, has not arrived yet, and he's already received his entree. She wonders, as Kyle muses about Véra Laurent's supermodel past, if they're going to give him free dessert. If he was at Buyan, she would have.

           Then again, she cannot really imagine anyone Julius would be having a date with at Buyan.

~

           It was one thing to see Lea on a date. She had a life. It made sense that people should be interested in her. Not that he was, of course, but he could see why. It was just an entirely different thing to see her with Kyle, of all people.

           He hadn’t even asked her about her café. Not once. Or anything else that she liked. Not even her food. The only sign of his remembering that he was supposed to be on a date was the occasional cheesy one-liner he tossed Lea’s way the same way he would toss a used toothpick.

          Julius crumpled his linen napkin in his fist under the table.

~

          She was trying. She really was. She listened to Kyle’s inane stories and made noises of awe or agreement when she was supposed to, and she patiently waited until finally, as the waiter was clearing their plates, she snapped.

           “So, Kyle, this has been really nice, but about Buyan–”

            “Oh my god,” Kyle burst out. “Do you never think about anything else? I mean, I’m breaking my back over here, pulling out all the stops, and you want to talk about your café?”

            She froze. “I, um – excuse me?”

            “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, Lea, but I’m trying really hard over here, but it’s hard to keep accommodating you. This is supposed to be a reciprocal arrangement, and if you’re putting in any effort, I can’t tell. I can’t. Lea, I think I’m going to leave.”

           “What?”

            He got out of his chair. People were starting to stare. Julius was most definitely in that number.

            “Kyle, I, um –”

             He held up a hand. “–Lea, you’re nice and all, but I can’t handle someone who is constantly thinking about their own interests.”

             And then he just left. Walked right out, leaving her sputtering and presumably with their check.

             She was trying to process what had just happened, when a voice piped up:

           “Wow, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

~

             He had no idea why he said it. It just happened before he could stop himself.

             In either which case, Lea whipped her gaze over at him, steely as only Lea could be in a floral print. “Excuse me?”

            “I just meant –”

            “Yeah, go ahead, share your enlightening commentary, Julius.”

            “It’s just,” he said, plunging on despite her icy glare, “Kyle? Really? Of all people?”

           “Wow, Julius. Wow. And here I was starting to feel sorry for you.”

           He bristled.  “Sorry for me? Why?”

          “Gee, I wonder! Who’s the one sitting in a romantic restaurant all by themselves, so lonely that they have to listen in on somebody else’s dinner?”

           “I didn’t have to listen in! That dinner was so agonizingly obnoxious, I’m surprised nobody else here said anything!”

          “You,” she said, pointing, “have no right to sit there and judge me.”

          “And you don’t have any right to point your finger at me.”

          Lea rose out of her chair like – well, a kraken seemed an inappropriate simile, but it was what he thought of, when her chair scraped back and her skirt billowed with the motion. “Well, prepare yourself, because I’m about to point another one –”

          “–Ma’am. Sir.” The manager, the maitre’d hovering at his side nervously, rushed to Lea’s side with some pretty spectacular timing. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the restaurant. You are no longer welcome in this establishment.”

~

          “I can’t believe you got us kicked out of one of the best Italian restaurants in town!”

           Lea had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Right, like you had nothing to do with it.”

           He stared straight ahead of them, gesturing to the rest of the parking lot. “I have a gift card! A gift card! What am I going to do with it now?”

           “That’s what you’re worried about?” She meant to sound dry, and funny, but what happened instead was a snort. She coughed to cover it up.  “You can use it on to-go.”

           “It’s the principle that matters.”

           Julius looked so emphatic, so serious, so hell-bent on glowering at that poor beat-up pickup truck in the corner, that she absolutely lost it.

~

           “Stop laughing, it’s not funny,” Julius snapped impatiently when he turned around to find her, doubled-over in the parking lot.

           “It – kind of  – your face,” she gasped out between gales of laughter, hugging herself. “When the manager came –”

           “Okay, that,” he couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up, because her giggles were infectious, “that was pretty good –”

           “And Kyle’s shorts–”

           “–Oh my god, I thought I was going to be blinded. I’m surprised you didn’t get kicked out right away for that.”

           Lea covered her face with a groan. “That was the worst date of my life.”

           She looked so almost-sad about that, or what he thought was sad, on Lea, anyway, because he’d never really seen her sad. He reached out to pat her on the shoulder and immediately thought better of it, jerking his hand away. “Hey, it’ll be okay. There’ll be better ones.”

           “I hope so,” she replied, her voice dry as a bone.

           “I think so,” he said, hands firmly in his pockets, trying not to sound hesitant. “I’m sure of it.”

           She turned to him with a smile he couldn’t read. “Yeah?”

           “Yeah.” Sure. Why not.

~

           The next morning he came in for his normal coffee, and Lea made sure to be there.

           “You know,” she said, writing his name on the cup with a flourish, “you’re not that bad.”

           “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julius harrumphed. “Do you mean, not as bad as those peanut-butter celery tarts?”