#no one ever sees my posts because I keep creating them at the witching hour :

[tendergraphite]

The Secret History Isn't purposely Queer.

(Richard Is Still Gay though, Here's Why!)

First of—I know Donna Tartt has explicitly stated The Secret History is not a love story, and well that's quite obvious isn't it? We may scrounge like the rats we are all we want for crumbs, but Donna chose to make her protagonist male on purpose—She feared the story wouldn't be taken for what it was, instead being buried under the sexist stereotype The Hunger Games sadly got dished under of "....The world's ending, but which boy am I going to kiss?''

There was also the fact these characters wouldn't have been so brutal around Richard if he'd been a woman—And Donna wanted the truest faces of these characters to be shown.

But well, that's never stopped us has it? The Manic Maenads. Who cares that this book brinks on plain psychological horror—Most of us here have watched Hannibal, we know what's up; We're queer, we're here, and so now we must get this damned show on the road.

[ Follow the links if you are confused on any of my statements ]

Now, I'm going to disprove my entire above statement. It will and does still hold true, as somehow—As human nature itself seems to instigate—both ideas are simultaneously true in my skull.

Richard hasn't shown the thinnest bit of admiration for the female form; As a woman lover myself, I find that appalling. Outside of Camilla (Charles stand in) Every other woman Richard encounters he presents as frustratingly annoying: Bunny's girlfriend Marion, who did nothing wrong; His ex-girlfriend back in California, never so much as named; And even Judy Poovey, who we all adore till this day.

John Richard Papen, ISN'T A LADY LIKER! He latches onto the basic ideals of what feminine beauty is for other men—And like every closeted gay man; clings onto them for dear life. It isn't natural, and it goes beyond sexism, he straight isn't straight, he doesn't like women, he likes men.

Richard wants to fuck Francis, marry Charles, and is truly, madly, deeply, inlove with Henry Winter.

Richard wants to fuck Francis—With literally no other character does he act this way. He focuses on Francis's ankles like a Victorian man seeing a lady's nude form for the first time. And that obsession with the crow jacket, good lord Richard, Majestic? You called it MAJESTIC? Are we never going to discus how Richard would duck into other hallways due to an ''inexplicit anxiety''? Acting like some blushing school girl whenever Francis brushed past his shoulder in the College hallway?!

Like, let me get this straight—The two go out on a nice evening on the gentle river, and when he leans in for a kiss... Richard instead of reacting with a startle, or even disgust, becomes flustered—He blushes. I could throttle him!

And then there's the elephant in the room—The two almost fucking. Now sadly, I cannot say this is proof of Richards gay man status, as that scene most definitely was attempted assault. It was just an example of how Francis tries to justify himself in taking advantage of pretty men. So we are skipping past that scene entirely! What more so I found intriguing was Richards reaction of embarrassment instead of betrayal towards Francis after the incident when he was sober.

When the very same attempt happened to Bunny for instance, he reacted very realistically. He distanced himself, was not comfortable being around Francis alone afterwards—Set clear "What the fuck is wrong with you?'' Boundaries. But instead, Richard felt his straight man status threatened; His main concern hadn't been that his friend just attempted to assault him, but that he'd think he was gay because of it.

He wants to Marry Charles; we all already know that anything he said about Camilla had in fact been about Charles in reality—We as a fandom, have accepted this as just being the simple truth.

Despite the moodboards, and the artworks, Camilla is boyish. She isn't a pretty girl girl, she looks like her brother and wears his clothes—It's why Richard feels safe being attracted to her, he in full essence is the following meme: [I couldn't find the original, so here's my re-enactment.] ''I like girls that look like boys, dress like boys, sound like boys, and are boys.''

Richard cherished Charles as if he were a newborn puppy, and considering he had taken his side instead of Camilla's during the last half of the book should be telling. Richard had been under Henrys thumb, manipulated beyond belief and yet he couldn't bring himself to betray Charles until his hand had been forced in the matter.

And after it all, he had professed his love for Camilla—Begged her to marry him before she used her dead boyfriend as an out, because come on we all knew he didn't want Camilla, he wanted Charles. He'd been the focus right before the proposal, like the shadow left behind from a neculer explosion.

Baby faced Charles, sweet kind gentle Charles who was kind to everyone; Who felt grief for the farmer he hadn't even known and Bunny who he couldn't prevent the death of. If Richard could've, he would've coddled Charles until their death beds.

Richard is inlove with Henry—It's not Francis nor Charles he has longing dreams about, years later—now is it? He didn't find Henry to be attractive at first, he mentioned how he would be handsome but if only his features were not so set. But that's the thing about love, it truly is blind.

It's harder to notice with Henry, because Charles and Francis had been so blatantly obvious to just about anyone—But the progression between these two had been slower. The smell of Henry's smoke, the setting of his jaw whenever he was stressed; The way he had told Richard he hid his past abuse so well. He slowly became a comfort, and once he rescued Richard he became indebted to him.

When he began to withdraw from Richard, we as an audience felt that as much as he did—And I remember pondering if Richard felt jealous at the fact Henry had run off with Camilla.

At the end of it all, Richard became an empty man without Henry—The worst part of it all was Richard believed that was his destiny, as being a Californian at birth he felt it was his true nature. He associated Hampton—Henry—with beauty, and California—Himself—With ugliness. Without the love of his life, he was a shell.

''Those are the two great things; Love and Death''

Of course when it comes to analysing any literature however, it's time period needs to be taken into account—Donna published the book in 1992, which was over 30 years ago. In interview, Donna stated although not now, she wished to write a love story in the future—That of course being The Goldfinch. The thing is, Donna didn't know how to write a love story because she didn't understand love as a whole quite yet, which is why she had not: And I believe that is why we find queer elements in The Secret History.

Beauty is Terror, whatever we call beautiful we quiver before.

At the end of the day, this story is about the relationships between the characters; Humans are fluid, so it only goes to say their relationships between one another would be too. Who cares if it's queer or not, at the end of the day their relationships hung heavy as Anubis scales between Richards shoulder blades.

The Goldfinch was the first book I read, so when I approached The Secret History I came at it with the lens the later published book had set for me; So personally, I can say with full confidence that I saw themes reappearing between the two—The first being unintentional and unrefined—And the later, refined and purposeful.

Like any writer she would've written from what she knew and understood at the time, so I feel a lot of queer elements unintentionally leaked threw whether she had meant it or not. Often writing takes on a whole life of it's own once it touches the public, and when it comes to the queer reading of the book I can see how that's happened.

By the way, this is Another analytical post inspired by something @bandaiddd said!

#the secret history #henry winter #richard papen #charles macaulay #dark academia #francis abernathy #Youtube #no one ever sees my posts because I keep creating them at the witching hour :/

[jrob64]

Silly Songs With Killian - a CS Modern AU One-shot

You can blame @sotangledupinit for this silly, but sweet, little story! She posted a prompt on Discord which caused my muse to jump to attention, and I wrote it in two days. If you're not familiar with the Veggie Tales videos, you'll still be able to enjoy this, but do yourself a favor and check out the songs on Spotify here. You don't have to be a kid to enjoy them and I guarantee they'll make you laugh!

Special thanks to Kit for making young Henry look even younger for the pic set, Mary for being my beta, and Krystal for being a second set of eyes for the Silly Songs lyrics and also for the pic set I created. It pays to have wonderful fandom friends!

Summary: After a frustrating and exhausting day, Emma Cassidy is relieved when her little boy, Henry, is entertained by a gorgeous musician at a restaurant, giving her a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music (and the view!) It gets even better when the singer, Killian, sings some of Henry’s favorite Silly Songs from his favorite videos, Veggie Tales. 

Rating: T

Words: 3946

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

*********

It’s been one hell of a day. It wasn’t supposed to be this exhausting, but of course my ex, Neal, had to complicate things.

I was looking forward to going wedding dress shopping with my future sister-in-law Mary Margaret and her other bridesmaids, sipping champagne and giving my input on each of the possibilities. It was going to be so much fun.

And then...remember the saying that was popular many years ago - shit happens? Well, Neal can be used interchangeably with shit - they’re one and the same.

It was his scheduled weekend with our three-year-old, Henry, which was one reason why Mary Margaret chose this day. Then on Friday, almost an hour after Neal was supposed to pick Henry up at my apartment, he sent me a text: Something came up. Can’t make it this weekend. Tell Henry I’m sorry.

Apparently he turned off his phone after sending it, because he didn’t answer any of my increasingly volatile texts - eighteen of them, to be exact - or phone calls. I had to sit Henry in front of the television so I could go into my bedroom to leave some choice words on Neal’s voicemail.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for my sweet little boy) Henry is used to being let down by his father. In the eighteen months since we called it quits, Neal has skipped out on more weekend visits than he’s kept. I guess being a lying piece of shit takes up way too much of his time and he can’t spare any for his son.

Also unfortunately, all of the people who usually babysit for Henry were unable to watch him. Most of them were included in the shopping trip, my brother David was busy because he was painting the living room of the house he and his fiancée just bought, and Ruby’s Granny was off bowhunting with her new beau. (Bowhunting with her beau has been a running joke ever since she left a week ago.)

So instead of enjoying a carefree day of shopping with Mary Margaret, Belle, Ruby and Elsa, I had to keep an active, inquisitive toddler entertained in one bridal shop after another. We were all relieved when he finally fell asleep in the third shop, until the manager woke him up by screeching about how he was going to drool on the green velvet upholstery. That cost her any business she might have had from us (though in all honesty, her gowns were all hideous and looked like something only the Wicked Witch of the West might wear.)

Eventually, Mary Margaret said ‘yes to the dress’ in the fifth shop late in the afternoon, then we all decided to get an early dinner at a nearby restaurant that serves kids’ meals and has outdoor seating. If Henry has to spend one more minute inside today, I think he might have a complete meltdown.

After placing my order and getting Henry situated with the provided coloring sheet and obligatory four crayons, I hear someone speaking into a microphone and look over to see a guy standing on a small stage with a guitar. A very, VERY attractive guy.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, and my jaw drops at the sound of his British accent. “My name is Killian and I hope you enjoy the music tonight. I do take requests. Feel free to sing along or dance in this nice, open area in front of me.”

“Oh, wow!” Belle gasps. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he, Emma?”

My jaw snaps shut and I turn to look at her. Seeing her sly smile, I teasingly say, “Why are you asking me? We all have eyes, you know.”

“Yes, but we all have significant others, too,” Ruby adds, which is completely unnecessary but, sadly, also completely true.

While my self pity begins to set in, the guy - Killian - strums his guitar and launches into the Eagles classic “Take it Easy”. Henry, who by this point has scribbled all over the coloring sheet, somehow managed to break his crayon into at least four pieces and, judging by the color of his teeth, took a bite of it as well, looks up with bright eyes. Since I allowed him to kneel on a chair instead of trying to strap him into a booster seat, he takes advantage of it and hops down.

Before I can chase after him, he makes a beeline for the open space in front of the admittedly gorgeous singer and begins jumping around in what passes for a three-year-old’s version of dancing. I sigh and start to get up, but Mary Margaret stops me with a hand on my arm. “Let him go. He’s been very good all day and deserves to burn off some energy. Besides, he’s only a few feet away and we can see him clearly from here.”

It doesn’t take much convincing for me to heed her advice. If someone else can entertain Henry for a while, I’m not going to complain.

When the song comes to an end, Killian acknowledges the smattering of applause and plays the extremely recognizable first chords of “All Right Now”. Henry doesn’t miss a beat, throwing himself around like a rag doll while all of us at our table, as well as most of the other diners, laugh delightedly at his exuberance.

By the time Killian is in the middle of his third song, “Old Time Rock and Roll”, our food arrives and I face the dreaded task of dragging my son back to the table to eat. I nibble at my fish and chips until the song ends, then dash to the makeshift dance floor to cajole Henry. When he shows the expected resistance, Killian chuckles and helpfully says, “Go with your mum, lad. I’ll play a slow song that’s not as much fun for dancing.”

True to his word, he croons the song “Everything I Do, I Do It For You” as Henry acquiesces and comes back to his seat to shove French fries into his mouth as fast as possible. It might not be a good song for Henry’s style of dancing, but Killian’s smooth voice singing the beautiful lyrics is sending pleasant chills down my spine.

Another song with a slow tempo follows, during which my little man polishes off his fries. But when Killian starts “Footloose”, all bets are off and Henry is back on the dance floor with a chicken nugget squeezed into both of his chubby fists.

After we finish our meals, Belle, Ruby and Elsa leave to spend the rest of the evening with their boyfriends. Mary Margaret lingers, telling me she’ll stay to keep me company, because she’d rather not have to help David clean up his painting mess. We don’t want to take up a table, so we move to some empty seats along the edge of the patio from where we can still see my little dancing king.

“You’d think his battery would run down soon,” Mary Margaret comments.

“Are you serious? That kid is like the Energizer bunny, plus he’s been cooped up in stuffy dress shops all day. My money is on the singer wearing out before Henry.”

She’s uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes. When she finally speaks, she says quietly, “He really is very handsome and seems like a nice guy.”

Her statement is out of left field and I’m confused. “Who?”

“The singer - Killian,” she clarifies.

I narrow my eyes at her. “What’s your point?”

“No point. I was just making a comment,” she shrugs, all innocence.

I don’t believe her. Mary Margaret is the queen of set-ups and wears the crown proudly. She introduced Belle to Will, Ruby to Jefferson and Elsa, well, she introduced Elsa to Victor, but that didn’t work out very well. Elsa met Graham on her own.

“I’m not looking for someone to date, Mary Margaret. I’m still dealing with my idiot ex and trying to concentrate on raising my son not to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“I understand, but…”

And it’s at this point I resign myself to the fact she’s going to spout some argument that’s going to weaken my resolve not to date.

“If Henry had a really good male role model in his life, it would help you in raising him to be a gentleman.”

“Seems to me David does a pretty good job of that, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know,” she sighs, “but between working, getting the house ready and planning the wedding, his time with Henry is very limited.”

“The house will be ready before you get married and the wedding is in less than five months. After the honeymoon, he’ll have more time.”

“Oh, but then we’ll have children of our own, and you know how much time that takes.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re pregnant, Mary Margaret?”

‘’What?” she gasps. “No! I’m just saying…”

“I know what you’re saying and I hear you. If the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t be opposed to dating him, but I’m not gonna try to force something to happen.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a date for the wedding, though?” she presses.

“Henry will be my date. He’ll be very dapper in his little tux.”

“But…”

“No buts, Mary Margaret. I don’t want to be set up with someone just so I don’t look pathetic at your wedding.”

We both fall silent as we watch Henry continue to dance in front of the bemused musician. Glancing at the time on my phone, I realize he’s been at it for well over an hour and isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. It’s beginning to get dark and I know I’ll have to wrangle him into the car before too much longer for his bath and bedtime.

I feel a little sorry for Killian, though. Nobody else has taken him up on his offer to dance, despite his repeated invitations. In fact, most of the diners aren’t paying attention to him at all. I hate to take his number one fan home, especially when I’m able to sit back and relax while listening to some seriously good music.

“I’m going to take a little break and then I’ll be back,” Killian announces, lifting the guitar strap over his head.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to take Henry home,” I say to Mary Margaret.

“I suppose so,” she agrees. “Let me say goodbye to him and then I have to be on my way, too. According to his text, David is anxious for me to see how the living room turned out.”

We both stand up and move toward the stage, but I stop in my tracks. Killian is squatting down in front of Henry, listening to him with a huge smile on his face. I don’t know what Henry is saying, and I’m not sure Killian will be able to understand it anyway. Henry has an extensive vocabulary for a three-year-old, but I listen to him with ‘mom ears’, which means I can actually decipher what he’s trying to say.

When we reach them, Killian looks up at us and whatever I was going to say flies right out of my head. From a distance, the man is handsome. Close up, he’s nothing short of breathtaking. Carefully trimmed scruff covers a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, his cheekbones would put every male model to shame, and his dark hair is swept back from his forehead with a few rogue strands hanging down enticingly. Even his slightly pointed ears are adorable.

But it’s his eyes that shut down the functioning part of my brain. To say they are blue is like saying the sun is a tad bit warm, and the way the waning light catches them makes them shine like sapphires. I’m aware that my mouth is hanging open like a fish on dry land, but I can’t seem to make it form actual words.

“Hello, Killian. We’ve been thoroughly enjoying your music tonight, even if we haven’t been showing it as much as this little guy.”

Thank God for the natural chattiness of Mary Margaret.

Killian reaches out to ruffle Henry’s sweaty hair, then stands up. “I’m very happy to hear that,” he says in that beautiful, lilting accent. “I was just telling young Henry here that I’ll play some special songs for him after the break.”

I finally find my tongue. “Oh, but I was coming to tell Henry it’s time to go home.”

My little con artist turns his baby browns on me. “Please, Mommy. I be a good boy, I pwomise.”

That’s just great. Now if I take him home, I’ll have to forfeit my Mom of the Year award.

Mary Margaret laughs. “Well, Henry and Emma may be able to stay, but I really have to go.”

Why did she emphasize my name so much? As if I don’t already know.

She hugs Henry and me, tells Killian goodbye, and winks at me as she passes by. Even without trying to set me up, she’s setting me up.

I look back at Killian, who finishes chugging a bottle of water and grins at me. Reaching out to take my hand, he shakes it and says, “It’s nice to meet you, Emma, and little Henry.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Killian. Thanks for entertaining my son tonight.”

“It’s been my pleasure. I love how uninhibited kids are, and how joyful.”

“Well, his day certainly didn’t start out joyfully at all.” I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m still boiling about what Neal did to his own son, especially when this stranger seems so happy to spend time with him.

“No?” Killian questions. “May I ask what happened?”

I glance down at Henry, not wanting to bash his no-good father in front of him. He’s happily lining up little stones he collected along the edge of the patio, oblivious to the conversation going on above him.

“He was supposed to be with his dad this weekend, but he canceled. Again. So Henry was stuck shopping for wedding dresses with us all day.”

“I see.” He ponders for a second. “Would that wedding dress be for the lovely lass who just left…or someone else?”

“Yeah, it’s for Mary Margaret. She’s engaged to my brother.”

“I’m very glad I was able to make Henry’s day better, because his dancing did the same for me.” We watch Henry play, babbling to himself. “He seems like a happy little lad,” Killian observes.

“I do my best, but as a single mom, I make a lot of mistakes.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Love. All parents make mistakes. It’s a good thing kids have perfect aunts and uncles,” he says with a smirk.

“So, are you an imperfect father or a perfect uncle?” Am I really flirting with him right now?

“I have two nieces, so that would make me the latter.”

“Do you get to see them very often?”

“Aye, they live just a few miles from me, so I spoil them as often as possible. They’re my brother Liam’s girls.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re originally from the U.S., if you don’t mind me saying.”

He chuckles again, rubbing his finger behind his right ear. “We were born in England and lived there until I was fourteen, then my father took a job here so we moved across the pond.”

“That explains the accent.”

He nods and checks his watch, blowing out a breath. “I should probably get back to my set. Will you allow young Henry to stay for a few more songs?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Sure. What’s another fifteen minutes in the grand scheme of things?”

A genuine smile splits his face. “Excellent! I think he’ll particularly like the next three or four songs I play.” He looks around and grabs a nearby chair from an empty table, setting it down beside me. “Won’t you please have a seat, Emma?”

“Such a gentleman,” I say, sinking onto the offered chair.

“Oh, I’m always a gentleman.”

Somehow I don’t mind him flirting with me.

He steps back on the stage, slips his guitar into place, and positions himself in front of the microphone. After giving me a wink, he announces in an overly accented, squeaky voice, “And now it’s time for Silly Songs with Killian. The part of the show where Killian comes out and sings…a silly song.”

I burst out laughing at the very familiar words. Henry is addicted to Veggie Tales, the wacky shows featuring talking fruits and vegetables. I love them because they teach good moral values; he loves them because they’re hilarious. His favorite part of every video is Silly Songs with Larry the Cucumber, which we watch over and over and over again. Apparently he conveyed this obsession to Killian.

Killian closes his eyes, somberly strums his guitar, and sings, “Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh wherrrrrrrre…is my hairbrush?”

Henry is jumping up and down like a kangaroo on a pogo stick, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! It’s the Lawwy song! Keeyin is singin’ the Lawwy song!”

Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I look around at the half-dozen people at the tables, who are looking at the musician like he’s lost his damn mind. Bunch of sticks in the mud. Lighten up.

But Killian isn’t bothered by their response, or lack thereof. He smoothly transitions to another of Henry’s favorite silly songs. “Oh, everybody’s got a water buffalo. Yours is fast, but mine is slow. Oh, where’d we get them, I don’t know. But everybody’s got a water buffalo, oooooo.”

Henry is beside himself with excitement. He’s running around in a circle, waving his arms in the air in his best impression of a rabid chimpanzee.

Killian moves on to sing a few lines of “I Love My Lips” (I can’t help thinking I’m quite fond of them, too), followed by “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything”.

By this time, the diners have relaxed, laughing and clapping along with the crazy tunes. Meanwhile, my son has finally worn himself out, collapsing in a small heap in front of the stage, looking up at Killian adoringly.

“...and we’ve never been to Boston in the falllllll,” Killian concludes with a flourish and takes a deep, dramatic bow.

I dig into my purse and pull out a twenty dollar bill. I always try to watch my budget, but I’ll skip getting a chocolate caramel latte for a few days to compensate. It’s worth it for what Killian did for Henry tonight.

Walking up to the stage, I drop the bill into the tip jar, smiling up at the singer. He’s between songs, so I say, “Thank you so much, Killian. You’re my hero for entertaining Henry tonight. It was great and he loved it, didn’t you, kid?”

Henry jumps to his feet. “I weally did, Keeyin! I love Lawwy songs!”

“What do you tell him?” I prompt.

“Thank you, Keeyin,” he says obediently.

“You’re very welcome, lad. I play here again in three weeks. Perhaps you can stop in and see me again?” He’s talking to Henry, but he’s looking at me.

“Can we, Mommy?” Henry pleads.

I know we probably can’t. This restaurant is all the way across the city from where we live, plus it’s pretty expensive. Mary Margaret footed the bill today, but twelve bucks for a kid’s meal is a little steep and I won’t pay it. I don’t want to say any of this though, because my tired son is walking a thin line between lingering happiness and an emotional collapse. So I use the parental standard, “We’ll see.”

Taking Henry’s hand, I say, “Thanks, again, Killian. Have a good evening.”

Something that looks like slight panic flashes through those gorgeous eyes of his and he speaks into the microphone, “I’ll be back in five, folks.” He slides his guitar around to his back and steps off the stage, placing himself directly in front of me. “Emma, if I may be so bold, and if you’re not already dating someone, would you consider going out with me?”

“Wh-what?” Apparently, getting asked out by the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on renders me a bit stupid.

He lightly wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me further toward the side of the patio for some privacy. “Even though we just met, I would really like to get to know you better.”

“But…but you don’t even know my last name.”

“What is it?”

“Cassidy.”

“Mine is Jones, so now we know each other a little better already.”

I stare at him, trying to think of a single reason why I should say no to him. “I…we…um…Henry and I, we…uh…we come as a packaged set.” That’s the way, Emma. Use your kid to try to scare him off. And you did it so gracefully, too.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m really quite fond of your son. That’s not a deal breaker,” he states firmly. He still hasn’t let go of my wrist and now he’s rubbing his thumb over it. I find I don’t mind at all.

“I…”

“Mommy, potty!” Henry announces.

Oh, geez. Killian has to get back to his set and Henry has to pee. I’m running out of time.

Dropping Henry’s hand, I rummage through my purse, trying to find a pen. “Got a piece of paper?” I ask, mid-rummage.

Killian dashes to his guitar case and pulls out a piece of sheet music, returning with it just as I locate the elusive pen. He plants his foot on a chair and slaps the paper down on his knee so I can scribble my number on it.

When I finish, I lift Henry into my arms and take off to find a bathroom. Before disappearing inside the restaurant, I glance back at Killian. He’s still standing where I left him, a broad smile on his face as he grips the paper in his hand. Raising my free hand, I give him a little wave and he returns it.

After I’ve had time to think about it, I might regret giving him my number. Right now I just have to keep my kid from peeing down the front of my dress.

*********

A year ago, Killian Jones was my hero for giving me a chance to relax while he entertained my son. Five months later, he was once again my hero by being my date to Mary Margaret and David’s wedding. Today, he’s still my hero because he’s continuously proving that not all men are incomparable asses.

On the contrary, he’s everything I dreamed a man should be, once upon a time. Killian Jones is talented, intelligent, funny, considerate, masculine, caring, loving, passionate, and a great conversationalist, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous (if I didn’t mention that, it would be a crime.) He’s the total package and I’m head-over-heels in love with him.

Oh, and he’s a fantastic role model for my little boy. I usually hate to admit when Mary Margaret is right, but in this case, she was unequivocally correct. He and Henry absolutely adore each other and it makes my heart so happy. They do everything together - read books, play Star Wars with lightsabers, build block towers, climb trees, ride bikes, you name it.

And Henry loves singing silly songs with his soon-to-be stepfather. What more could a mother want for her son? Except, perhaps, a sibling.

Killian and I are working on that…and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.

*********

Thank you for reading. I hope it brightened your day!

Tagging: @hookedmom​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @cs-rylie​​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​​ @grimmswan​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @paradiselady19​​​​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​​​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​​​​​ @julesep3026​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​​​ @pawshapedheart​​​​​​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswan4life85​​​​​​ @bluewildcatfanatic​​​​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​​​​ @elfiola​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @julieenchanted-swans​​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​​ @andiirivera​​​​​​ @djlbg​​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @huntressandlioness1​​​​​​ @anmylica​​​​​​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​​​​​​ @pirateherokillian​​​​​​ @cocohook38​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​​​ @zaharadessert​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @yasbio2015​​​​​​ @lyssapup27​​​​​​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​​​​​​ @singersdd​​​​​​ @mie779​​​​​​ @undercaffinatednightmare​​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​​ @jackieorioncat​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @bdevereaux-blanche​​​​​​ @soniccat​​​​​​ @searchingwardrobes​​​​​​ @jarienn972​​​​​​ @apiratewhopines​​​​​​​ @softkilly​​​​​​​ @goforlaunchcee​​​​​​​ @kymbersmith-90​​​​​​​ @captainswan217-blog

#csff #silly songs with killian #cs modern Au #one shot #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #captain swan fanfic #henry is little #anti-neal #emma & neal are divorced #killian is a musician #cs fanfic #silly songs from veggie tales

[gierosajie]

Okay just dumping some genshin witch ideas, you don’t have to use them this is just for my autism. I apologize for the strange “natures”, I’m just fond of the stranger ones.

Zhongli Witch - Qinshihuang

The antique witch. His nature is torpor. Everything, no matter how seemingly indestructible will eventually become dust. That is something this witch is painfully aware of. Within his barrier, time does not pass and the many antiques and treasures within will remain gleaming forevermore. The witch detests any form of change as it is a sign that time will tick forward once more and threaten his collection. If he senses an intruder, he will stop at nothing to hunt them down and swiftly petrify them. When this witch perishes, everything in the barrier will become dust.

Rukkadevata - Uma

The witch of hanging gardens. Her nature is samudaya*. A benevolent and caring witch, she spends every waking hour building a paradise upon the ever growing tree that makes up her body. She collects knowledge via digging her roots into the subconscious minds of her victims and uses them to improve her heaven on earth, although leaving her victims husks if their former selves. If someone were to wander into her barrier, she would show them a dream tailored to the needs and wants of the person. Many people have willingly let themselves be painlessly consumed by this witch to eternally live in their specially made paradises.

Makoto - Ohirume

The witch of tempests. Her nature is nanakorobi-yaoki*. A witch who only has one goal planted in her head: make it back home. Despite the deathly storm that mercilessly ravages her barrier, this witch continues to trudge forward in the hollow hope that one day she will be able to return home. Her raincoat has thinned, her umbrella is just wires, and she is almost nothing but bones, but she continues to wander her stormy barrier for eternity fated to never find her way home. When the witch dies, the storm clears up and in the distance you can see the faint outline of a house.

*means “arising” and refers to the roots of suffering

*means to “fall seven times and get up eight”; perseverance

Anon I would kiss you if I could /p

The way torpor also has the meaning of apathy, and yet Zhongli clings onto so much that he'd try to destroy anything that would cause them to even slightly degrade through change

Also if you don't mind me adding on- I'm imagining him having familiars made from pressed flowers that keep the labyrinth in pristine condition, resembling the 3 people he couldn't protect and lost to witches (the 4/5 Yakshas aren't included because they're all as fine as they could be throughout the au <3)

Something about pressed flowers being dead flowers (or leaves in Retuo's case) being preserved

Oh and imagine if his labyrinth looks like a mix of the floating parts of Enkanomiya and the Floating Abode Serenitea Pot layout, but everything is completely frozen like the Orchard of Paridaeza. There'd be a bunch of trinkets and paintings but all are slightly warped in a way

(I can't draw)

Anyway, I could also see Rukkha's labyrinth also being made of pressed flowers and painted skeletonized leaves in the background while the entire "roof" is made from her hair with some hanging ornaments. Thinking about her witch form being almost as big, if not bigger than Venti's. She could also have her familiars being made from her own body like him, except she keeps expanding using hers while Venti slowly disintegrates when creating his

Honestly, the witches really feel like they could very much happen

Like, I've briefly considered Zhongli having a similar situation to Homura in this post instead of Istaroth. Not outright a witch but there are Signs and stuff. I could very much see him turning into Qinshihuang ngl

Rukkha could've become one either after Deshret died or if she hadn't gone through with her plan on destroying her soul gem while fighting Venti. The way Uma keeps building a paradise could be related to her wanting things to have gone differently with Deshret and Nabu, and if we go to the Venti route, it's her final thought about wanting her little sister Nahida to be born into a gentler world that affects her witch form.

She'd probably end up that way from exhausting all her magic in either situation. Like, the only reason she resorted to destroying her soul gem in the fight with Venti was to have enough power to kill every piece of his witch form through all the portals she has open in one shot.

As for Makoto, she could become one if Ei somehow dies again. I don't think she'd take it too well a second time. If we go by the events in the AU tho, it's more likely to happen if Venti hadn't killed her first. It's a slow build up from the week's events, like she literally watched Venti straight up drop dead in front of her, found out where witches came from, and had to force herself to keep it together while they dealt with the situation for days

Your description for her labyrinth and witch form made me imagine one made of tear stains and water damage and ink blots, perhaps even over a nonsensical map. Her obsession with going home could be her trying to get back to Ei. There's also faint whispers through the storm where one could hear faint murmurs about going home and "I'm all she has left"

Anyway yeah the AU brainworms sure is strong fjfgdjdvsnsx

#ask #anon #genshin impact au #genshin madoka au #long post

[fangirlforthewin]

I posted 1,743 times in 2022

221 posts created (13%)

1,522 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thestenchofcheeseandregrets

@bitofanerdingeneral

@aethersea

@runcibility

@flippityflapjack

I tagged 496 of my posts in 2022

#yashahime - 106 posts

#yashahime: princess half demon - 80 posts

#yashahime spoilers - 71 posts

#half demon princesses - 71 posts

#hanyou no yashahime - 69 posts

#half demon princess yashahime - 68 posts

#inuyasha - 66 posts

#yashahime season 2 - 65 posts

#princess half demon - 62 posts

#moroha - 45 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#and i never learned how to study because i didn't really need to up through high school

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Kirinmaru: In a few hours, Sesshomaru will likely perish Rin: Then I'll fight you Sesshomaru: *struggling to live* *eye twitches* God damnit

184 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

#4

Webtoon Recommendations

If you haven't already, I highly recommend downloading the webtoons app on your phone and then check out these amazing webtoons, some of which are coming out in books, which I am super stoked about.

If you have any suggestions or think I missed some really good ones, let me know! There are tons more that I read, but these are my top 20.

Ongoing Webtoons

Lore Olympus

Let's Play

Twilight Poem

I Love Yoo

The Witch and the Bull

The Remarried Empress

Like Wind on a Dry Branch

Wish You Were Dead

My In-Laws are Obsessed with Me

Happily Ever Afterwards

When Jasy Whistles

Brimstone and Roses

Midnight Poppy Land

Winds of Spring

SubZero

Monster Duke's Daughter

Another Love

Act Like You Love Me

Your Throne

No Marriage is Perfect

Completed Webtoons

Sirens Lament

A Good Day to be a Dog

Freaking Romance

My Dear Cold Blooded King

Age Matters

See the full post

237 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

#3

InuKag Family

280 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#2

See the full post

489 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I cannot get over how good the Forger family is together. Each one of them knows it's fake and temporary, but they are all willing to put their best foot forward and make it work. Because of this, they are all so understanding of each other and yet feel self conscious they're not doing enough because they know it won't last forever.

Knowing this is all a cover, they could seriously do the bare minimum, do enough in public to make it look like they are the perfect family. But Yor truly cares about making sure she's a good wife and pulling her weight, and she's come to really care about Anya and I do believe she sees herself as her mother. Loid, while usually always thinking of the mission to justify his decisions, does a lot for Anya and is always quick to reassure Yor. He goes above and beyond to make their family happy. Anya's just willing to do whatever she can to keep this family together.

Like I know I've said this before and other people have said this before, but I seriously can't get enough of this family. They're the fakest family but the best family.

1,725 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[mdhwrites]

Lost Love, Lost Year?

CW: Depression/Anxiety/Suicide I saw someone talking about how a show had managed to pull them out of a dark place and given them new energy and it reminded me of last year and especially last summer. The year where I spent a Summer helping fix up my parent’s house for my sister’s wedding. The year where I wrote somewhere close to FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND WORDS, three hundred thousand of went to a single story. Where at one point I was writing 2-5 chapters a day because I couldn’t stop being motivated to type. Where I was putting down Stellaris because one more turn was too long before getting back to creation. The year I fell in love with The Owl House. Late March I listened to “Little Miss Perfect” for the first time and found THE animatic that everyone knows (even if its creator effectively disowned it). It reintroduced me to Lumity and I started seeking out more. Comic compilations, art, and even considered writing some myself despite having not done fanfiction in over a year. Then I finished Season 1 and the questions I had INVIGORATED ME. Literally the first chapter of my behemoth of a first TOH fic, The Power of Love, was motivated by me wondering how the hell Luz’s magic was so strong in the finale and finding a fun, whimsical answer that fed into shipping possibilities and it just exploded from there. It was easily the most productive I had ever been. That first month included a minimum of 200k words written between one offs for TOH and Amphibia but most PoL. I loved what I was writing so much that I even started seeing if I could take those concepts and turn them into an original creation which is what eventually became “Little Miss Rich Witch” which was even named after the song that got me into the fandom. I even published the first two chapters to PoL just to share with them and to sneak peak at what I might be working on behind the scenes. A moment that led to one of the most sincerely suicidal moments of my life. Where I spent at least an hour just staring at a river, unable to think or feel much of anything as my legs both wanted to go and yet never move. A night I still can’t say much more about than this, even a year and a half later. But I didn’t blame people for their disinterest. I instead took down the chapters and moved on. I was still passionate and pretty much didn’t slow on my content creation for the story. It was still updating every day at that point I believe and I was still writing almost every day. Season 2 was also just around the corner and I was willing to be optimistic about Amazon’s new serialized storytelling platform, Kindle Vella. I would even go on to pour almost two thousand dollars of my savings into fanartists to get the promotional art that might make Little Miss Rich Witch be able to be seen this time and on a new platform to help me maybe finally find success as a writer, even while I continued TOH fiction. But then Vella was just... A failure. And the majority of artists I commissioned simply never posted the pictures. And all the while, I found myself seeing cracks and fissions within the show I loved. I started forming questions that weren’t met by possibilities but by simple laziness and plotholes, even before the half of the season affected by the shortening would arrive. And around that time is probably when I slowed down. When I started putting things on hiatus because I simply couldn’t keep up with any of my projects. All the ambition and confidence I used to have turned to ash. Turned to sludge that continued to try and pull me down. I didn’t stop creating, not entirely, but it became more sporadic. More of a shotgun than a focused stream until my serials were no longer updating, neither for my original works or my fanfiction. And with S2B and the new year, it really just got worse. Even shorter stories were harder for me to work on. What took two months or so to make (The Blight’s Ruff Secret/Their Ruff Secrets) now took half a year (Crises Girlfriends). The serials I knew were better for me, that gave me some of the validation I needed, continued/continue to sit abandoned, even after when they were supposed to stop being on hiatus. Focusing on them just hurt. Just like focusing on the show and trying to be happy with everyone else was. My mind was swiftly growing to hate the show, not helped by the fandom, who I was fully entrenched in now, having decided to claim I was a bigot and a pedophile for aged up fiction I wrote and the fact that I dared include sapphics in my original projects while being a straight white guy. Not even saying how my representation was bad, just that it was inherently immoral because of what I was. And all the while, my depression became ever more crushing. Where a year before, I could see my parents at least once a week and spend the whole day helping them, I would struggle against my anxiety to just go see them. Nowadays, I struggle to even go for a morning walk with them. The socializing on Twitter I’d done to try and make friends is no longer something I can do as even leaving comments can feel like a chore now when before I was happy to brighten anyone’s day with a headcanon about their piece or just telling them how wonderful it was. The confidence that told me I could work on multiple projects is now just a false nectar brought about by a manic phase that not even my psychiatrist will believe me about despite me having been diagnosed with bipolar for years.

I just... Plenty of the past year going wrong could just be my illnesses or the problems with the world at large but I can’t help but wonder how much losing TOH made me lose a part of myself. Where my joke of “If being analytical of literally everything you watch sounds like a terrible way to enjoy anything, you’re right” is actually robbing me of ANY sort of happiness. I don’t know. Even now my brain tells me I’m being dramatic. That I’m just a failure who had a couple good months when he’s used to only having bad ones. That if this could be the solution, I need to stop being such an asshole even as it itself won’t shut up and demand I think more about it all. And besides, if losing one hyper fixation ripped this much strength from me, what will happen when I lose the next one?

#Depression #Might Delete This #Sorry.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Sacrifices

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Character death, mentions of blood. Mild trigger warning for thoughts/talks of death (It’s canon typical with the Series Finale, but I wanna add this in there just in case.) 

Author’s Note: Welcome to day 3 of Angst week. This my darlings is the prequel to Temporary Spells. This piece was originally supposed to be posted last year, but as we all know things became chaotic and it was almost impossible to do so. But, it is here now and I am quickly working through my drafts! I’m actually below 20 Items and that doesn’t include the new 2021 requests that I’ve asked for. So I’m making a lot of progress!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. 

Klaus was ready to take the Hollow within him if it meant that Hope got to live a long life, even if it was without him there with her. Klaus knew that his siblings would be there to protect her and be by her side whenever she needed them. Hope would even have Y/N if she ever needed anything at all.

While Klaus had been dead set on this plan of his, Y/N hated it. She hated every part of this plan and she had made it known several times. But as the clock was ticking down for Hope, Klaus wasn’t going to listen to any of Y/N’s plans. The Hybrid’s thick skull was impenetrable once his mind had been set.

Y/N only had a few more hours before Hope would begin her first transition and the Hollow would be pulled from her. While Klaus believed that this was the only way, Y/N knew there had to be another. And the woman wasn’t going to stop until she had found an answer.

She poured through every book she had. Looking for anything and everything she could get her hands on that had been left behind by her family. Some spells couldn’t hold that kind of magic while others were darker than the Magic the Hollow provided, making it the very last resort. For if Y/N dabbled into the darker forms of magic, she knew she’d be lost to it as well.

However, when her phone rang hours later with Elijah’s phone call, she knew she had been too late. Klaus had taken the Hollow into himself and with the help of Hope he and Elijah had been able to bring Klaus back to New Orleans before he could finish the task of killing himself. While one timer reached its end, there was another one that was beginning it’s countdown.

“There has to be something.” Hope said as she watched Y/N flip through the pages of her grimoire.

“I’m trying as best as I can to find something.” Y/N promised.

Even after Freya had tried convincing Hope that there was no amount of magic in the world that could slow the Hollow from taking over Klaus completely, Y/N refused to give up. She refused to believe that there was nothing else they hadn’t tried. When Hope came in and saw that she hadn’t quit like her Aunt had, Hope could only hang on to the sliver of hope that Y/N would find something.

As Y/N continued to flip through one book, Hope’s eyes looked over at the other opened book on the table. The design of it had been foreign to Hope. Even as she read the words along the page, she was curious about it.

“What is this one?” She asked as she looked up at Y/N.

Y/N looked over at Hope and sighed as she took in the page. “It’s a grieving spell. One that my grandmother had created for my grandfather right before she passed.” Her eyes moved back to the pages in front of her as she continued to explain. “One that would grant the person grieving a chance to see their loved one after they’ve passed. It’s temporary in the terms of once the person has stopped grieving, they stop seeing them.”

Hope’s eyes moved back to the page as she ran her fingers over it. “Why do you have it open to this page?”

“A back up plan.” Y/N said with a nod. “Because if your Aunt is right, I think that spell would be best for you.”

Hope’s eyes watered at that. Her lips had tried their hardest not to tremble. “Let’s hope that it doesn’t get to that point.”

_____

Y/N heard Klaus’s footsteps as he entered the room. He could easily hear as her heart sped up for a single moment before it returned to normal. And as he entered the room, she never once looked up at him. Her eyes were still trained on the pages before her. From what he heard, she hadn’t moved from that spot for over a twenty-four hour period.

“Y/N/N,” He began as he came to a stop just a few feet away from the very bed they had shared.

“Don’t.” She said as she quickly shook her head. “Don’t you dare ask me to stop looking because I am not ready to give up.”

“No one is asking you to.” He said softly as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, careful to not disturb the organized mess that has taken over the top of it. “But we should talk before the night ends.”

“You didn’t want to listen before you left.” She said as she finally tore her eyes away from the book to look over at him. “I asked you-no, begged-for you to let me find a way that didn’t involve us saying goodbye.” Her bottom lip began to tremble. “But you wanted it done your way. And I’m not ready to let you go.”

Klaus quickly took her hands in his as he brought the other one up to rest on her cheek. “We both know there was no other way around this, love. I couldn’t stand by and watch my daughter die from this.”

“I understand, I really do.” And Y/N had. But the thought of Klaus not being around to be with his daughter after all this time of them being a part, Y/N hated the idea. While Hope was her step daughter and Y/N would do anything to keep her safe, Hope needed Klaus more. “But she needs you. She just lost her mother and you are willing to take your own life. How is that fair to her?”

“It isn’t.” Klaus agreed. “But what other choice do we have now?” His eyes moved towards the books before looking back over at her. “We’ve come to the end of this and I have come to terms with what is needed to be done. And I know you will be there for Hope. To care for her and protect her. I couldn’t ask for a better partner to be there for her.”

Y/N bit down on her lip as she tried to blink back the tears that were wanting to spill. She was determined not to break when there was still that thought of hope to keep him from wanting to end his life.

“Would you stop me if I found a way?” She asked cautiously as she looked him in the eye.

A smile pulled at his lips as he took in her words. “If you find something and come swooping in at the last second, I wouldn’t stop you.”

She chuckled at that. “We both know I’m great with timing.”

His hand that rested along her cheek moved down to the side of her neck. “That you are. It is one of the reasons I love you.”

Her eyes watered at his words. “Don’t start saying goodbye.”

“I would never.” He promised. “We both know I’m not particularly fond of emotional goodbyes. I’d rather our last conversation not be filled with words that we say out of sadness.”

“And what would you want our conversation to be?” She asked as her eyes scanned his face. She could see the emotions that were hidden behind his eyes. The ones that he refused to speak of.

As Klaus has stated, he hated emotional goodbyes. He hated the emotions that he’d feel with them or even the hurt that was forced upon the other person. That was something Klaus didn’t want to see on Y/N. He knew his decision hurt her in ways that he’d never be able to fully understand. But for right now, with his time ticking down, he wanted her to be happy.

“How much I love you.” A tug of a smile pulled at his lips. “How much the last several years has meant to me. You kept me sane in my time of need. Especially after visiting Elijah. You managed to make sure I wouldn’t lose myself completely.”

“I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” She said with a nod. “And that is coming from a witch that promised she wouldn’t get herself involved in vampire business.”

“You just couldn’t resist my charms.” He said with a chuckle that made her laugh in return. “There’s my favorite laugh.”

“It’s usually only you that hears it anyway.” She said with a smile.

“Then I am very lucky, aren’t I?” A bit of a smirk pulled at his lips. “I’ll let you get back to your books.”

Her face fell at that as he began to move away from her. Her chest filled with an emotion that was close to breaking out of her. She couldn’t stop herself from putting the book to the side and following Klaus off the bed until she is standing in front of him.

They looked at each other, words no longer needing to be said between them. They could easily decipher the emotions that were surrounding them. Their eyes held on to each other for only a moment before Klaus closed the distance between them and brought his lips down to hers.

The kiss between them shared everything they had refused to say in that moment. The goodbye that neither of them actually wanted to say. The feelings of fear, love and even the grief that had surrounded them had been conveyed through the kiss. And it wasn’t long before Klaus broke away from her, leaving Y/N completely alone in the room.

_____

Klaus, Y/N, Elijah and Rebekah stood in the streets of the French Quarter. The walk to let Klaus do as he intended had felt the longest. While the others had finally gotten Klaus to agree to a ‘funeral’ as his last few hours, the laughter and fun they had was nothing in comparison to what they felt now.

With a rather quick goodbye for Rebekah and promise of the cure for immortality in the future, Rebekah had left knowing that she couldn’t say goodbye to her brother. Y/N had known, just as the siblings had, that Elijah wanted to take his life with Klaus. It was why he had stayed put instead of leaving as Rebekah had.

Y/N on the other hand knew that this wasn’t going to end as any of them had planned. The time between Klaus leaving her room and the last meal with family, she had found a way around this. She found a way for Klaus to be able to stay with his siblings, with Hope and not have to be the one to sacrifice his life. She had just yet to say anything to anyone.

As Klaus began to walk away from Y/N and Elijah, Elijah moved to take a step after his brother. Y/N reached out and placed her hand on Elijah’s arm, as if to stop him for only a moment. Elijah looked over at Y/N confused by her actions.

“I know your intention is to die with him,” she began. “but it won’t be necessary.”

“This is my decision.” Elijah noted as he took in her words.

“Your death would be pointless seeing as Klaus will not die tonight.” Her words caused Elijah to still for a moment, taking in what she said. “He will not be the one to die tonight. And if your intentions are to go out with him, it will only be you that does.”

Elijah’s eyes quickly moved from her to his brother who had still been walking away from them, unbothered by the conversation they were having. “He can’t hear us.”

She shook her head. “No.” She took a deep breath trying to get her thoughts in order quickly. There wasn’t much time left now. “This evening, I performed a spell unbeknownst to Klaus. One that would tie his death and only the action of his death, with another. He will survive tonight, and Hollow will be gone.”

“If that is true, why not tell him of your plan?” Elijah asked. “Having someone take my brother’s place is a better plan than any.”

“Because in order for someone to take Klaus’s place it needed to be someone that was willing to take his place. No one wants to die, not with that kind of darkness within them. While Klaus is hellbent on taking his own life to ensure Hope’s safety, we both know that girl needs her father in her life.”

As Elijah continued to take in her words, realization formed within him. His eyes searched her face for any proof that he had been wrong. But there was nothing that showed his thoughts had been wrong. And it was as he looked down to where Y/N’s hand had been on his arm, that his thoughts had been proven correct.

Where the dark veins had been climbing up his wrist some time before, they no longer did. For as they moved down, they climbed up Y/N’s wrist. She had been taking the smallest piece of the Hollow that he had within himself.

“A willing participant.” He repeated a moment later. “And what am I to tell my brother when he finds out?”

“I’d be able to tell him.” She said with a nod of her head. “There is a temporary spell put in place that I’d be able to speak with him. To explain my side of things.”

“You should be with him.” Elijah said as his eyes looked over her face, but she had already been shaking her head.

“By the time I got there, it’d be too late.” She explained. Just as she had, she felt blood fall from her nose. Her hand instinctively moved to wipe it. “A human can’t hold that dark magic for long. You should be the one that’s by his side when he finds out. I can already feel the spell working. The hollow is slowly being transferred to me.”

“Y/N,” Elijah began but stopped himself as he watched as her eyes changed from the color he had been so used to seeing turn to a bright blue for only a moment. Once her eyes returned to normal, blood began to spill from the corner of her eyes. “It’s killing you.”

“As planned.” She said with a nod. “Now go, he’s going to need you. Especially after he learns that I did this.”

Elijah only nodded his head before he was gone from her sight. It seemed like only a second had passed before a pain filled her chest. One that told her that Klaus had shoved the white oak stake into his chest.

A cry of pain passed her lips as she fell to the ground. Despite the pain that was filling her body, she felt at peace. Her actions saved not only the man she loved, but saved a child from becoming an orphan. From the moment her eyes landed on the spell, Y/N knew she would go through with it. And as darkness began to take over her senses, she wondered what true peace was like in the afterlife.

The last thing she heard had been the sound of Klaus calling out her name as he tried making his way back to her before the darkness consumed her completely.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy

Hybrid Tag:

@xxsovereignsarayaxx​

The Originals Tag: 

@zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @mikaelson-emma

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#the orginals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #tw:thoughts of death #tw:dark thoughts #reader insert #Klaus Mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson imagine #Prequel to Temporary spell #Temporary Spells #Angst week #Angst day 3 #TVD #To

[professorrw]

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Two (The End)

Warnings: FLUFF, smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows

A/N: It’s the last chapter!!!! This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever posted on anything and I can’t believe how well it’s done! I also just hit 100 followers on here too! Thank you to everyone that’s read this series, I genuinely hope you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be tagged in future works message me or comment what franchise or character you want to be tagged in and I’ll add you!

As the winter holidays arrived, the castle found itself empty. Students departed to be with family, leaving only a handful behind with the teachers. Snow covered the castle and it's grounds, creating a winter wonderland for those that remained. The weather was extremely cold, although beautiful at the same time. Most stayed inside though, relaxing near a fire while drinking from hot mugs.

Students and teachers alike switched to casual attire for the holidays. Everyone in the castle was wrapped up in thick sweaters, trying to keep cozy. On Christmas night the Great Hall was lit with hundreds of candles, illuminating the room with a warm glow. Christmas trees, decorated with ornaments and garlands, lined the walls. For the few people that remained, a feast of turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, and other enticing items appeared on the tables.

Teachers ditched formalities and moved to sit with the students, who had all joined at the Gryffindor table. Since Voldemort's death, dislike and prejudice between houses had dwindled. Many of the former Death Eaters' children didn't return to school so most Slytherins were innocent students that just happened to be placed there. You, Remus, and Minerva chatted with Luna, who was going on about the new things her father had planned for the Quibbler.

Hermione and Ginny both decided to go to the Burrow to celebrate the holidays. Like you, they were both in new relationships. Just as you predicted, Harry and Ginny got back together, and Hermione and Ron finally confessed their feelings for one another. A while after the battle Hermione informed you of the impromptu kiss between her and Ron which caused them to realize their mutual feelings.

Harry and Ron were both starting their training to become Aurors, which made Hermione feel better that they weren't attending school. Things were moving forward in the blink of an eye. The battle felt like it was just yesterday, yet it had been more than half a year. It was nearly foreign to you that things could be calm for this long, but this was the new normal.

Remus squeezed your hand under the table. You smiled fondly at him as he began to stroke the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation made your whole body go fuzzy, that was the effect Remus had on you, even now. Over a year ago you both departed from the Burrow to be safe. Who would have known things would end up like this?

Even with the small crowd, dinner lasted longer than usual. Almost everyone was spending more time socializing than actually trying to eat. There was no need to be in a hurry, so you and your fellow teachers enjoyed the company of each other and the students.

Over an hour after the feast started, people began to leave the Great Hall and head to wherever they pleased. You and Remus were the last remaining in the Hall. You were about to leave as well when Remus stopped you, tugging on your hand to get your attention.

"Let's go on a walk."

It was lightly snowing outside and was getting dark, but the street lamps of Hogsmeade were wrapped in twinkling lights. The shops were open, allowing lone witches and wizards to stop by for something to drink and someone to talk to on Christmas. You had added gloves and a scarf to your already warm outfit and Remus had done the same. No matter how beautiful it was, you didn't want to catch a cold out there.

You and Remus strolled past the storefronts and stopped a little ways away from the end of the path. The light from the street lamps created a soft glow on Remus' face as he gazed at you. Your fingers of one of your hands were intertwined with Remus' and he brought that hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against your gloved knuckles.

You couldn't help but notice how quiet he was being. He didn't speak too much normally but as you walked he didn't talk and he still wasn't.

"Remus are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"I've been through a lot in my life yet, I would go through it all again if this were the outcome. Being with you... is all I could ever wish for. You are the light in my dark life. I have lost so much, so many people. Never again will I waste the time I have with the people I love. Y/N I know we haven't been together long, but you are everything to me. I would be a fool to not do this."

Remus stops talking and gets down on his knee. You're filled with emotions as you realize what's happening. He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and opens it in front of you. Inside lies the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

"Y/N Y/L/N, I promise to always be by your side, no matter the circumstances. I want to be yours for the rest of time. I will cherish every moment spent with you as if it were my last. Will you marry me?"

You sink on your knees and wrap your arms around Remus. Tears stream from your eyes as he returns the embrace. "Of course I will."

He gives you a long kiss before taking your hand in his. He pulls the glove off your hand and slips the ring on your finger. Everything felt so perfect. Nothing could possibly make this moment more special. No words could describe the pure joy you felt.

......

The next few months leading up to your wedding was a whirlwind. You and Mrs. Weasley corresponded daily making arrangements leading up to the wedding in June. You and Remus agreed you wanted to get married as soon as possible.

You sat in your bedroom with Hermione and Ginny, your maids of honor. They were dressed in beautiful champagne colored dresses that you picked out together. Your stomach was doing flips inside of you. In just a few minutes you would walk down the aisle, Remus at the end of it. The thought made your heart flutter.

There was a light knock on the door. Mr. Weasley poked his head in, "The music is starting girls. Harry and Ron are waiting at the door for you two."

Harry was Remus' best man and Ron was his groomsman. You walked down the hall and to the double doors that led to your backyard. In front of you Harry and Ginny linked arms and began to walk out. Trailing after them was Hermione and Ron. Mr. Weasley held his arm out for you to take and looked over at you.

"You've grown so much. Your parents would be proud."

You replied with a warm smile. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were like your second parents. Being close to their kids caused it. During the holidays you and your parents would go to the Burrow to celebrate with the Weasleys. It felt like ages since the last time you spent Christmas all together. You were all very close, so it felt right to have Mr. Weasley walk you down the aisle. He was glad to do it too.

You and Arthur walked out of the doorway together and began to walk. A few yards away was Remus, tears glistening in his eyes. He looked magnificent in his suit and tie. As the distance between you was closed, your eyes never left Remus'. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. The nerves you felt before dissipated. As you got to the end of the path, Remus took your hands in his.

You both listened and got through vows and the wedding ring exchange as rehearsed.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Remus and Y/N Lupin. May now kiss the bride." The officiator steps out of the way and a camera flashes as you kiss. The small crowd of yours and Remus' friends cheered and stood as you both walked back down the rose petal covered path to the house. Looking around you saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Bill, Fleur, and Victoire in the second row. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes as she clapped. George gave you a thumbs up, which made you laugh.

You made it through the double doors and back into the house. You cupped Remus' cheek as you kissed him again, more passionately this time. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered, "Mrs. Lupin.?"

"Mr. Lupin?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." You kissed Lupin on the cheek and then went back outside to find that your backyard had been transformed. In the center was a dance floor and off to the sides were tables so everyone could eat. Beige drapes hung on posts over the dance floor. Twinkling lights were wrapped around the trees and hung from their branches. Garlands were placed in the center of the tables along with white roses in vases.

All the Weasleys, Luna and her father, Harry, Hermione, Minerva, Hagrid, Kingsley, and Tonks were seated, awaiting you both to return.

The music started again and Remus pulled you onto the dance floor for your first dance. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around your waist. You pressed your cheek to his chest as your arms went around his neck.

You sighed, thinking about everything you went through to get to this point. Remus sensed your unease.

"What's wrong dear?"

"It's just... we've been through so much. We've lost so many people along the way."

"I know darling. There's nothing that can bring them back, but gaining you is a blessing I won't take for granted."

It was true. They had faced enough pain and loss to last lifetimes. In the past two decades Remus had lost his best friends. In the past two years Y/N lost her parents and one of her best friends. Nothing could bring them back but being together would heal so many other wounds. Together, you could mend the holes that had been left behind.

As you two swayed in time with the music and gazed into each others' eyes, anyone could see that you were looking at your universes. Because no matter what, nothing could break the bond that had flourished between you.

......

Nine months later you would welcome a new life into the world, your son, Farris Lupin, who was named after your father. You and Remus were both granted leave from teaching until the new school semester so you had plenty of uninterrupted time to spend with Farris.

One night, a few months after he was born, you went into Farris' bedroom. Sitting in a large leather chair was Remus and Farris. Farris was laying on Remus' chest, sleeping soundlessly. Remus too was asleep, the book he was reading to him lying in his lap.

Extra: (this happened at your wedding)

As the night began to wind down, you were sitting with George at a table. You both sipped out of your glasses, reminiscing on your adventures at Hogwarts.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah Georgie?"

"Me and Fred had a bet."

"Oh really?" You were surprised George was freely talking about Fred. After his death, George broke down for weeks. Anything related to Fred was a sore topic for you both. You three were best friends all through school, and even past it. So close in fact, that Mrs. Weasley secretly thought you would marry one of them.

"Yeah. I just won it today." George looked down at his fire whiskey and tossed it back, downing it in one gulp.

"What... What was it about?"

"I promised Fred I wouldn't tell you." George would never break that promise, and it was possibly for the better. The bet was made in their fourth year, and would stay a secret for the rest of time.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

#remus lupin #remus #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #professorrw #professor lupin #professorrwstory #professor #transfiguration professor #weddings and engagements #proposal #wedding #child #remus lupin's kid #remus lupin as a father #pregnancy #pregnant #all i want #harrypotterandthedeathlyhallows #alliwantstory #alliwanttumblr #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #happy ending #end #end of all i want #fanfiction #fanfiction with smut #myfanfiction #fluff

[ashesandhackles]

Harry and Tom: Parents, Love and Death

Ever since I read re-read HBP earlier this month, I wanted to explore parental rejection/abandonment as concepts related to Voldemort and his subsequent relationship with death vs Harry's. It was also sparked off by Ralph Fiennes saying he wanted to play Voldemort as a very "human evil" with "rage against the world" as opposed to an idea of evil. Fiennes also noted that when his nephew took the role of young Voldemort, he sensed a "loneliness" about him and he wanted to be able to play that. So to tap into the humanity of Voldemort, I wanted to chart his idea of his parents vs Harry's.

Infancy

Voldemort's mother died an hour after she gave birth to him. His father obviously neither knew nor cared what happened to him. The child who is born is essentially abandoned and rejected by both his parents. In stark contrast, Harry spends a year fiercely loved not only by his parents who died for him, but their friends too. All of this affects your brain development.

At age 11

While Voldemort is conscious of his powers and has, for his age, immense control over them, Harry is usually on spot for accidental magic. Voldemort shows instincts for power, control, and uses his powers to bully and terrify other kids in orphanage. He has no trouble believing he is "special". Harry, on the other hand, is almost always using powers for self preservation and quite accidentally. Aunt Petunia gave him a bad haircut? Hair grows back. Aunt Petunia giving him a horrible jumper? It magically shrinks until it no longer fits him. Dudley chasing him? He is somehow on the school roof. Dudley elbows him aside in zoo? The glass vanishes and boa constrictor is free. In fact, I believe Harry's instinct for fighting his way out of tight corners, as Snape puts it, comes from here - a decade of escaping or hiding from his cousin, his uncle, and being quick to react to protect himself (because no one else will). Therefore, Voldemort's response to his environment is to seek wider control, while Harry's is for simple self preservation. Harry, of course, can't believe he is a wizard so quickly.

Belonging and Friends

Harry points out in DH that Voldemort would have seen having an account in Gringotts as a "symbol of belonging to wizarding world". This is something Voldemort covets.Him coveting trophies with magical histories and hiding them in places like this is a sign he understands desire. His own personal history is a vast disappointment, so he will create his own. Again, in contrast, Harry's sense of belonging is validated with the gold his parents left him. They both think of Hogwarts as home. Harry immediately makes friends, while Voldemort, a self hating bully, would attract people because of his immense power.

Fascination with parentage

Both Voldemort and Harry are fascinated with their parentage as teenagers. Harry's is, of course, fueled by the knowledge that his parents died protecting him whereas Voldemort has no idea about his father and believes his mother can't possibly be a witch because she died. Voldemort keeps his father's name, even though he dislikes it because it's too common, until he finds out that his father was a Muggle. This comes after a lot of painstaking search for his father in school records. After accepting that his father may not be the magical one, he finally looks into the ancestry of the woman he thought was weak - his mother. I think these are the beginnings of his relationship and understanding of death. As a child, I wonder if his mother's death constituted as rejection for him. I wonder if his fear of death and his painstaking steps for immortality is also a way to make himself different from his "weak" mother. Both of his parents disappointed him in different ways and Voldemort sought himself to make himself different from both : rejecting his father by shedding his name, playing up his mother's ancestry and rejecting his mother by attempting and "going further than anybody" for immortality.

This is, again, huge contrast to Harry who is repeatedly shown to have longing to meet his dead parents. Harry has the knowledge he is loved, and Voldemort doesn't and I wonder if it contributes to his inability to understand it. Harry expresses desire for Resurrection Stone and scared Hermione and Ron with his talk of living with dead people. He has a guilty desire in Book 3 to hear his parents voices and he has to really get a grip on himself to learn Patronuses. He visits Mirror of Erised until Dumbledore stops him. He and Luna were also among the few who could hear voices beyond the Veil in Book 5 - and I wonder if it means that Harry believes he will see the people he loved again, or believes in a certain kind of afterlife. It seems to be why he was comforted by Luna at end of Book 5 saying that "they were just hiding, lurking out of sight, you heard them". This is why, when Harry drops the Resurrection Stone in the forest - his biggest longing and temptation - it's a huge deal for his character who is haunted by the loss of people he loves. Harry is not only accepting his own death, but also of the people who died defending and loving him the most. Voldemort rejects and fears death. It is an unknown he cannot control.

The fathers

Both Harry and Voldemort looked to their fathers first, as young orphans looking for a masculine ideal to emulate in life. However, when Harry's ideal of his father is dashed, Harry , through his father's friends and his father's own death to protect him, is able to reconcile with the idea that his father is imperfect. Most of Harry's father and mentor figures are put off their pedestals and Harry learns to reconcile their humanity with his own projections of them. In short, he grows up.

Voldemort, on the other hand, learns more of his father from his uncle. And whatever version of the story his uncle told him, Voldemort seems to have believed. As he says to Harry in GOF - he believes his father abandoned his mother after he found out that she was a witch ("He doesn't like magic, my father"). Which, as we know, is not the true story. For Voldemort, however, coupled with his rage of being abandoned and rejected, his father essentially left him to rot in an orphanage. His Muggle ancestry is just one strike too many. He killed his father and his family, his source of rage and shame. He sheds his father's name, and becomes someone else, only known by his "special" magical lineage - cutting off that undesirable part of himself.

Harry, in contrast, finds his father "inside himself" through his Patronus. ("Prongs rode again last night" as Dumbledore eloquently put it). Tom sought inanimate objects and notorious titles in wizarding history in order to reject his "ordinary" self and magnify his self importance while Harry sought connections in friends, and created found families with his father's friends to connect with his own personal history and move forward.

There are many other subjects to explore with two of them - especially with how they deal with a sense of aloneness, trust and secrecy. But this is a big enough post for now.

#harry james potter #tom riddle #tom riddle jr #Voldemort #merope gaunt #tom riddle sr #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter #deathly hallows #master of death #james potter #lily potter #mirror of erised #resurrection stone #veil of death #patronus #prongs

[fuji09]

Where, besides Tumblr, can people find you doing fannish things? (Obviously only mention sites and usernames you actually want to be found at. Don’t expose your secret identities on my account.)

What other names have you gone by on these platforms, including Tumblr, if any?

When did you join the IT fandom? And what got you into fandom, to begin with?

What are your favorite ships, or characters, if any, and why? What do they mean to you?

In what ways do you participate in fandom? (ex. Posting memes, reblogging/commenting on content, writing fanfic, making fanart, creating fanmixes, etc.)

Do you have any in-fandom inspirations? Other members of the community that drive you? (And if you have the time/energy, in what ways do they inspire you?)

Name and link some of your favorite works, please!

Do you have any works of your own that you feel particularly proud of, or wish more people would’ve consumed? Please provide links if possible.

Have you ever participated in a fannish event (ie. IT Week, a fic Big Bang) or applied to be a part of a fanzine? If so, which ones, and can you please link them?

Without any form of bashing or lashing out, what is something you feel this fandom is missing?

1. Twitter fujin09 and sometimes Instagram fuji09 oh and tik tok fuji09

2. I have always gone by Fuji, my usernames are usually fuji09 and and that's taken its fuji2009. Although Twitter had to be fujin09 but oh well lol

3. I guess when IT chapter 1 came out in 2017 although I had read the book and watched the miniseries already. I'm terrified of clowns and almost didn't see IT Chapter 1! That movie really started my love and obsession for the losers club.

4. Reddie is my favorite but I also love PatRichie, Kaspstetter, and HenPat. Eddie, Richie, and Patrick are my most favorite characters. I relate to Eddie, Richie is who I wish I was more like and attracted to, I am somewhat like him but I'm 100% Eddie lol Patrick is the bad boy I love even though I shouldn't lol thank you Owen Teague for fueling that.

They all mean the world to me and I love them.

5. I write fics, reblog posts, talk to others in the fandom, and theorize.

6. @blood-ichor is amazing and such a good friend. My confidence to write darker works came from them and I met a lot of amazing people through them that I will forever call my friends.

@tonyofthetrees I can't even begin to describe how much I love this dude. He's talented like none other, funny, sweet, and his art has given me so many ideas I want to write.

@nblesbianbenhanscom the IT fandom brought me this amazing person and I'm forever thankful because they are seriously one of the greatest people I have ever met, they are encouraging and kind.

@flowersonmymind1016 was the first person in the IT fandom I started talking to and she is so sweet. She has been a beta reader for me, she has been so helpful to my writing, and reading her works always inspired me to get better at my own writing.

@tozierpunks is just so talented and amazing and maybe one day I'll actually get the courage to send a message lol for real though, amazing writer!

@punkyiggy omg such an amazing artist! Fanart is perfection and totally my style, I love all the piercings Richie and Eddie always have. 😍

There are seriously so many others, I'd be here all day if I mentioned everyone.

7. Eager To Be Held by @blood-ichor

Scars and Splinters by essellair on ao3 (I don't know if they have a tumblr)

Twilight Lied and I Have Receipts by @tozierpunks

everything you and I have got (it takes so long to find) by reddieforlove on ao3 (I don't know I'd they have a tumblr)

i don't know how to tell you (and you wouldn't understand) by starcat on ao3 (I don't think they have a tumblr)

First Fires by @thatmalu

Lover, You'll Leave A Beautiful Corpse by @rea-du-soleil

One More Time, With Feeling by @ghostnebula

Predicament Bondage by @dgalerab

8. What A Wild Ride This Will Be was my first reddie fic and I finished it!

9. Yes! I participated in @blood-ichor and @richieblows Labor Day Book Quote Challege (2020) with my fic Like A Leech To Flesh

And in @thatmalu HallowRen's Spooktacular IT Project with This Is The Witching Hour

10. I feel like the fandom is missing a sense of unity. People go against each other for liking different things when we are all here for the fandom we all love.

I am so sorry this took so long and I ended up posting it too soon so I had to keep adding the rest right quick lol

#fuji rants #reddie #fandom #writing

[adurowrites]

A Percy Weasley Snippet

The lecture hall was quiet, but not perfectly silent. Percy could hear the scratching of quill on parchment, the creak of wooden chairs, and every now and again, a hard exhale as someone met a question they weren’t prepared to answer. 

There were twenty test-takers in the room, Percy included. One proctor sat at the front of the room, the other took slow laps about the room, sometimes muttering revealing charms to ensure no one was cheating. The soft footfalls paused somewhere in the back of the room. To the left, a witch coughed, hoarse and rough and momentarily distracting. Some of the test-takers had put silencing bubbles around their desks, wanting absolute quiet to focus on the exam. Percy preferred the ambient noise of the room. It made him think of Hogwarts, of taking his NEWTs in the Great Hall with the rest of his year. 

For as much as he hadn’t been particularly popular, or even well-liked, Percy had enjoyed his time at Hogwarts. He’d gotten along well-enough with his housemates, but he had found true camaraderie in the Ravenclaws of his year. He’d often wondered why the Hat hadn’t put him in Ravenclaw. He’d asked for it at his Sorting, even though he’d be breaking a family tradition and the thought of disappointing his parents terrified him. But it was the logical choice, and so he’d politely asked to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Apparently it was that request, and his bravery to buck tradition, that had the Hat put him into Gryffindor instead. 

But he was too studious for most of his house, and he’d spent most of his time studying with the Ravenclaws. There wasn’t much conversation, just quiet focus and the sense of belonging. Percy had missed that comfortable atmosphere as he’d been studying for the barrister’s exam. His flat, as cozy as it was, had the tendency to make him feel lonely. He enjoyed peace and quiet, but he also enjoyed company. Rather than sit alone, he’d done most of his studying in the Ministry library, keeping company with the various interns, undersecretaries, and paralegals.

He came to the end of the exam and glanced at the clock. There were four hours allowed for completion, and he’d hoped to save an hour and a half for review. He was behind by fifteen minutes. He grimaced and turned back to the start of the test. 

Just before the three-hour mark, a wizard got up and strode towards the proctor at the front. He handed his parchment over and left with a self-satisfied smile. A witch followed a few minutes later, looking a bit disgruntled. Percy figured she had wanted to be the first to complete the exam. He used play such games with his classmates at Hogwarts. Who was the first to finish? Who could write a paper the fastest? He used to think that finishing first was a sign of intelligence. But as he’d gotten older, he’d realized that taking his time with his work was a sign of maturity and wisdom. After all, the quality of the work was far more important than winning a silly race. 

So Percy stayed in his seat and reviewed his answers with the time remaining. There were only a few others that stayed to the end with him, although they appeared to have lingered out of necessity rather than patience. One witch looked disheveled, her hands twisting at her hair, and another wizard appeared damp with sweat. Or tears, Percy couldn’t tell. They filtered out into the hall where the other test-takers were waiting. The two who had finished first were arguing over a couple of questions, and they’d created quite a debate. 

Percy didn’t join. Instead he grabbed his portfolio from the locker and checked it for any messages. The Ministry knew he was taking his test today, but there were still a couple of work-related messages that had appeared inside - questions about the Minister’s meeting with the court, a few requests for paperwork, and a couple of messages wishing him luck, including one from Minister Fudge himself. 

Percy felt a flush of pleasure at the notice. (Yes, his name was spelled wrong, but Fudge was notoriously bad at names.) The personal note meant that Fudge was indeed considering him for position of Assistant. Now, all Percy needed, was just to have passed the bar. 

He took a seat on the benches along the wall and responded to what questions he could while he waited for the proctors to tally the scores. it only took half-an-hour, and then the door to the lecture hall opened. There was a rush and a minor traffic jam as the other test-takers raced inside. The results would be posted on the blackboard, and Percy felt a wave of nervousness. What if he hadn’t passed? What if the Minister had wished him well, only for Percy to have to re-take it? There was no harm in retaking the exam, of course. Plenty of barristers and government officials did. But Percy had never failed a test in his life.

....Divination didn’t count. 

He got up, hands clutching his portfolio to his chest and slowly walked into the room. He logically understood that he hadn’t failed. He logically knew he’d done well, very well in fact. But what if he’d somehow mixed up his answers? What if he’d forgotten to put his name on the test? What if - ?

The other wizards and witches were crowded around the parchment posted on the board. Some of them were celebrating. Some of them were swearing. All of them turned as he approached, and he saw a myriad of emotions cross their faces as they looked at him. Some were openly envious. Others looked impressed. Some gave him congratulatory smiles. 

“There he is!” the proctor said, stepping forward, his hand outstretched. “It’s not every year we have someone achieve a perfect score. Congratulations, Mr. Weasley.”

Percy automatically shook his hand, his eyes going to the parchment, and there it was. His name at the top, and beside it, a 500, a perfect score. He felt a relieved, incredulous, proud smile spread over his face. 

“With that score, you’ll have your pick of law firms,” the proctor said. “Might you consider Bolgers and Fawcett?” A card was slipped into his hand.

“He’s not going into law,” one of the test-takers said. “He’s in government. Senior Assistant to the Secretary.”

“I know,” said the proctor. He gave Percy a sly sort of smile. “Just in case you’re looking for something more lucrative.”

Bolgers and Fawcett was one of the wealthiest, most powerful law firms in the Wizarding UK. Percy knew the starting salary was easily triple what he was making now. 

He shook his head. “I’m quite satisfied with my current position, thank you.”

“Not if you’re taking the bar,” the proctor said. “You’ve got your sights set a bit higher. Well, when you tire of life as a public servant, let us know.”

“Thank you.”

The proctor left and Percy accepted more congratulations from the test-takers, some given more graciously than others. He responded with his own, and then once he was able, he slipped away, back to the Ministry. He still had work to do. 

He did divert by the Ministry’s owlry to jot down a quick message. I passed the barrister’s. A perfect score!

At another time he might have written more. He might have written about how rare a perfect score was, and that less than a hundred people had ever achieved a perfect 500 in the history of the exam. He might have written about the proctor trying to poach him for Bolgers and Fawcett, or about the test-takers recognizing him. But he knew by now that such additions would only be taken as arrogance. It seemed unfair to him, that only his boastings were considered prideful. In truth, Percy may have been boastful as a child, but he’d been forced to speak out about his achievements because no one else seemed to recognize them, or understand how significant they were. He’d grown up insisting on his own merit, celebrating his own accomplishments, and because of it, he’d been labeled prideful. He’d tried to be quieter about it lately, but it seemed even small comments on his success was enough to considered bragging. 

“Where shall I send it, sir?” the postmaster asked.

“The Bur -,” Percy cut himself off. He remembered the last time he shared such news with his parents. They ignored the message. They were unimpressed. No, worse than unimpressed. They were disapproving. 

His siblings had been happy for him though - they’d gotten him a gift for his office. And his parents had seemed apologetic over Christmas. He could try to reach out again, see if the fences had been mended. 

But if they hadn’t... Percy swallowed hard. It had hurt, when no one knew about his promotion, when his mother and father had kept it secret, like they were ashamed of him. It had felt like he’d done something wrong. It had felt like he didn’t belong. If it happened again... Percy didn’t think he could bear it. 

“Charles Weasley,” Percy said instead. “The Dragon’s Repast, Romania.”

“Very good, sir.”

Percy left, feeling slightly easier at his decision. Charlie wouldn’t ignore the missive. Charlie wouldn’t disapprove. Percy could imagine him, getting the owl and reading the message, and letting out a big whoop of joy for him. Charlie might even tell his friends about it - how his younger brother had gotten a perfect score on the bar exam. And the next time he came to visit, he’d insist on taking Percy out to celebrate. 

Percy nodded. That was enough. As long as he had Charlie, it would be enough. 

-----

(So, I have more head-canon about Percy, but it doesn’t really fit into my fic. I thought I’d plot a bit here on tumblr because I didn’t think it was hefty enough for Ao3, and it was just meant to be a little drabble, a tidbit, a snippet. But it doubled in length and then turned a little angsty at the end. So I may have to put it up on Ao3. 

For those folks confused, this is my interpretation of Percy Weasley from my fanfic series The Code, found on Ao3 and FFN. It’s not really about Percy, but Draco Malfoy and Bill Weasley.)

#percy weasley #hp fanfic #the code #harry potter #head canon #fic #it was really supposed to be short #drabble #not a drabble #charlie weasley is the best

[pleasereadmeok]

A Goode Year? Review of 2020

Can’t believe it’s that time again.  What a weird year.  Despite Covid and Lockdowns we have actually seen quite a lot of Matthew Goode this year - so this is a long post to save for when you are bored of eating over the holidays!    I’m not adding links to vids, etc. like previous years because tumblr doesn’t like them anymore [Grr] but all of them are still available and I’ll signpost them. 

In January Matthew was finishing filming A Discovery of Witches Season 2 in Turin and we had some glimpses of his leather clad bod in some Teresa Palmer instastories - 

...and in Sky’s ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ Excellent sneak peek. 

... and Joshua’s uncle Lee gave us a few gorgeous pics ...

In February we saw Matthew and Sophie having fun at the Pre - BAFTA party 

[Pics - Dave Benett] 

The rest of that month was all about Leap Year’s 10 year anniversary and we drooled over Declan all over again ....

In March Matthew was finishing filming Silent Night with Keira Knightley when the world changed.  We were introduced to ‘social distancing’.    We had to keep a full Matthew Goode length away from other people - a handy reference is below to remind you -

[Pic - Ellen Von Unwerth]   On the upside the news broke that Matthew would be playing Keira’s husband in Silent Night (as we suspected) and that they had finished filming before lockdown in the UK.  

In April Matthew had his 42nd birthday.  Check out all of the fabulous birthday tributes posted on here around 3rd April.  As a special birthday present Sky released ‘Four Kids and It’ on their cinema channel on the same day with Matthew playing the role of slightly harassed parent David.  It was a goode family movie and just what we needed in lockdown. 

[Pics - Sky Cinema] 

In May we got our first glimpse of Matthew in lockdown when he made a poignant contribution to Bletchley Park’s VE Day celebrations - 

[Vid available on Bletchley Park You Tube] 

It was perfectly judged - just Matthew filming himself on his phone, in his garden, complete with birdsong.  

“This is your finest hour.”

According to James Purefoy and Joe Fattorini Matthew shaved off his hair with the dog clippers in lockdown so he looked a bit different the next time we saw him in June!  

Matthew appeared via zoom on ‘Dan Nicholls Really Likes Wine’ show - ‘Drinking the Goode Stuff’.  It was great seeing these old friends bantering away and drinking wine.  Of course Goode fans immediately campaigned to get Matthew on The Wine Show @ Home and we got our wish a few weeks later when Joe and Matthew had a virtual wine tasting on zoom - 

The whole session was hilarious.  Matthew was completely adorable and funny as usual.  Amongst other things Matthew told us that Sophie had gone off pork (not a euphemism) and we got another peek at his beautiful home with Sophie’s interior design skills on show.   This is also still available on The Wine Show @Home You Tube. 

June also gave us the new trailer for ‘The King’s Man’.  We heard Matthew’s unmistakable voice as the Scots bad guy and there were some tantalising peeks of his character’s mysterious alter ego ‘Shepherd’ - 

In July we finally got to see one of Matthew’s Q & A sessions for actors in training at Bow Street Academy in Dublin that he had recorded in May - 

Matthew gave frank, funny and very practical advice on auditions, preparation for roles and demonstrated how to be scary with a knife! 

August was a bit quiet - we got news that A Discovery of Witches Season 2 would now be aired in January 2021 but a new promo image helped soften the blow of that delay. - 

[Pic - Sky]

Kingsman was delayed yet again....  but at least we got some new promo images of Matthew’s character - Captain Maximillian Morton.  (Morton? Hmm - someone on here (not me!)  spotted the relation to Roxy!]

[Pics - Total Film/Empire]

In September Matthew’s new movie ‘The Duke’ received glowing reviews at the Venice Film Festival and we got confirmation of my speculation that he would play barrister Jeremy Hutchinson.  

Tantalisingly goode info about Matthew’s up coming movie Silent Night came from Baz Bamigboye from the Daily Mail as he called it ‘the most astonishing Christmas movie ever made’ - hopefully he meant it in a goode way!  We had fun spotting Matthew’s body parts in the pictures accompanying the article ...  

[Pic Daily Mail] 

Production on A Discovery of Witches season 3 started under strict Covid rules and Matthew was seen filming for ADOW Season 3 in Bristol - 

[Anthony Ward]

October was a very goode month!  

It kicked off with The Wine Show Season 3 teaser - 

Matthew ‘sub-section’ Goode joined in with the ADOW cast Q & A.  He was a funny and engaging as ever including an unforgettable impression of a ‘wafter’ and a hasty exit at the end!  

We had the official ‘first look’ trailer for season 2 of A Discovery of Witches - 

[pic - my edit]

The Wine Show season 3 landed on Amazon Prime in the UK and it is SO goode even tho’ there is less Matthew than usual due to filming clashes with ADOW.  Matthew was still his adorably goofy self and gave us the usual interesting fashion choices and jokes.  

[My Edit] 

October also brought us a new tie in cover for Shadow of Night - 

[Pic - Deborah Harkness Twitter]

And as if that wasn’t enough excitement for October we got the official news that there will be another Downton Abbey movie - starting to film in March 2021. Hopefully we will see more of him in this one! 

[Pic - Carnival]

Matthew usually keeps his charity projects private but in November we saw him donating his ADOW ‘wedding day’ boots to be auctioned for the Small Steps Project ....

...complete with on mud from the set.  Some lucky person is probably stroking that suede as I write this! 

[Pics - Small Steps project] 

Matthew also recorded some charming contributions to the #SaveJenny campaign.  He evicted the dog from her favourite chair by the radiator in the kitchen and sat there to read the opening chapter of Wind in the Willows - 

and later ‘The Night before Christmas’ poem complete with music! 

You can still see these contributions and most importantly DONATE  - links are listed below - 

December has been all about A Discovery of Witches season 2 - with a stunning second trailer and plenty of teasers and pictures from Sky and Bad Wolf - there are too many to include but here’s a few - 

[Pics my edit / sky/badwolf]

So what of next year?  So many goode things to look forward to.  I’ll do ‘Goode Things coming in 2021′ a bit earlier next year because January is gonna be BUSY for Goode fans!   

Thank you SO MUCH for making time to read this blog.  And a big thank you to Goode fans who create content to share with others on here and on matthew-goode.net.  We really appreciate the effort that everyone puts in to sharing the Goode Stuff.  

Lastly I have to thank Matthew Goode who patiently tolerates the fan nonsense while he tries to pretend that he doesn’t actually have any fans anyway!  

Cheers Matthew! 

#matthew goode #matthewgoode #a discovery of witches #adow #the wine show #downton abbey #the duke #silent night #Kingsman

[pompadourpink]

hi mom, after several very bad experiences i think im really not made to work in an office and i want to my own boss like u. there is something i'm very good at so i think i could make a living out of it. do you have any advice?

Hello dear,

I can't fully answer because you haven't said if you would be selling things or services, which create very different needs (office, employees, bank loan, boxes, business cards, packing peanuts, suppliers, ink, paper, paint, fabric, accountant, etc.). Also, each country has its own rules, and I doubt you're French!

I think the biggest question is this one: why do you really want to do this? There are hundreds of thousands of companies, it's unlikely that you will be coming up with a new concept and therefore will have the monopoly of that thing on the market. So how is your take on an old concept better? What do you bring to the table that other brands don't have? If you don't have an answer to this, you're going to sink.

A few scary things first: you'll have to pay VAT (20-25% of your income), deadlines and taxes are stressful, getting noticed is hard, you can't take time off for holidays or bad health without renouncing to income, you never know when customers will decide they don't need you anymore, you'll occasionally meet time wasters and scammers, you might lose a friend or two, if you run out of anything your reputation is threatened, you'll get ghosted, if you don't earn a certain amount annually you'll have to close down, retirement is a big question mark (!!!), etc.

I'm up at 7/8 every single day, and on my computer until 11pm - I usually answer messages within an hour, emails within a half-day and questions within a half-week (because they require a lot of research and I don't want to botch it). And then there are lessons (giving them and prepping), blogposts, personal research, Latin learning, Youtube, Discord, the website, doing my billing once a month, and once in a while getting in touch with my editor and my web developer. And then there's cleaning, working out, cooking, socialising, taking care of myself, etc. I haven't had a day off since the beginning of the pandemic or left the country since 2018.

I realise I sound pessimistic but I think I would have preferred to hear those things before I started. Let's remember I started this blog in the summer of 2016 and finally made money off it in March of 2020 because of the pandemic! I had tried to offer lessons before and no one ever contacted me about it, so all that time I had been doing all that work for likes and comments.

That being said, I'm making it work, I have a lot of projects for the future, and I've hands down never been happier. I work from my couch, with my cat (which students will confirm because he's part Ferrari), lessons are a lot of fun, I get to binge-watch Sabrina the teenage witch as I write posts and answer questions, my commute is five seconds long, I've never felt so creative at work, and being able to see the impact my hard work is having is very rewarding.

If I have to be transparent, earlier this year I was feeling guilty about being happy and having so much fun at work, to the point that I got in touch with my therapist and ended up realising I was just sad because I realised how absolutely miserable I used to be at work, being the type of moron who was doing the job of three people while being paid a ridiculous amount of money and treated like crap, and that now that I didn't have people walking over me, my life long depression had disappeared, never to be seen again. It took me a while to be able to rationalize this new position I was in and all the good things that came with it.

What I would recommend since you haven't started: keep a regular job on the side (the type where you don't bring work home), part-time if you can afford it, and declutter your monthly expenses. You can be a diva when you're rich (I don't even have Netflix anymore!) but now you need frugality. Then, write down a plan: what is it exactly that you want to do? What would your ideal day look like? Does it require an office, going places, creating things with your hands, etc.?

Make prototype after prototype until you are so satisfied with what you've made that you would proudly send one/offer your services to your favourite celebrity without feeling an ounce of embarrassment. Once you like your product, network to oblivion, hand freebies, go to local events and see if you can get a few sales, etc. The service is as important as the product: let's say you paint and send me a gorgeous piece of art, if you don't communicate with me on whatever website we used and I receive the art wrapped in old cardboard, I'm not ordering again.

Do a lot of thinking before you launch. You don't get a second impression.

Hope this helps! x

#ask #malks

[a-womans-rhetoric]

Natalie Wynn's "J.K. Rowling" and Disruptive use of Women's Rhetorical Tropes: A Defiant Reply to Transmisogyny

ContraPoints, surrounded by an opulent, candle-lit set and adorned in witch's garb, leisurely pours champagne into her glass — she's ready to breach the internet's hottest topic of January, 2021: her childhood idol being outed as a transphobe (link here). The video itself being over an hour and a half long, I would be hard-pressed to claim that I could ever hope to cover its entirety, comprehensively, in a single post. So to save-face, I'll be dedicating this space only to breaking down her most frequently used rhetorical tropes, one by one.

Irreverence

"Joanne, I wanna talk to you, Joanne! [Fans herself with a rainbow paper fan with the word "BIOLOGICAL" written across it] What is it about Joannes? I can't catch a break from these people" (00:23-00:29, emphasis added).

Wynn's introductory lines immediately open a dialogue with J.K. Rowling — however, this invitation of discourse is defiantly "irreverent" (reminiscent of Nomy Lamm's punk-feminist style in "It’s a Big Fat Revolution” (1995)). Contrapoints, herself a transgender woman, is aware that her very existence is considered in opposition to the TERF-ideology that Rowling subscribes to. Thus, she's rather playful — even openly disrespectful — with her diction: calling the British author by her first name in a mocking-tone and flaunting her own trans identity to the camera (in a way that would likely offend the fragile sensibilities of a transphobe). Her personal tone (with ample use of the pronoun "I") servers a duplicitous purpose: a simultaneous message of "sit down and listen" and a fair degree of "I don't care if you can't accept me."

"So, now that 2020 is finally over, I think we can let the record conclusively show that it was a year whomst is bad. And on top of everything else going on, truly the last thing we needed was the author of Harry Potter coming forward to announce there's two things she can't stand: bigotry, and the transgenders. (00:31 - 00:50, emphasis added).

Finally broaching the subject at hand directly, Wynn employs kairos alongside her irreverence. Kairos, or the rhetorical use of an "opportune moment," holds incredible weight in the first month after 2020: the year in which the whole world fell into a stasis. Characterizing Rowling's transphobia as a collective "the last thing we needed," is also rather dismissive — she unites herself with her audience with the pronoun "we" and invites us all to groan at the exasperating nature of Rowling's bigotry.

Claiming the Right to Speak / Personal Experience

"This is a painful topic for me all around because, as a transgender woman, I am honestly really hurt by a lot of the things Joanne has said in the last year. But I also know what it's like to be the target of a Twitter mob" (01:36-01:47).

As she begins to touch on the topic, Natalie Wynn claims the right to speak on the issue of Rowling's transphobia — a type of bigotry that directly effects her. However, Wynn also situates herself partially with Rowling in her acknowledgement that receiving Twitter backlash is a terrifying experience (an experience, she argues, that the human brain is not prepared to handle the scale of, 01:49-02:39). In treating her subject with such dignity — and adding her own deeply personal account— ContraPoints creates a credible ethos in the beginning of her video essay. The audience is inclined to listen to someone who has been directly effected by the subject of Rowling's controversy (transphobia) and someone who is, rather compassionately, willing to empathize with those who would wish her harm. Although the generally sassy, glamorous, and irreverent tone of the video still appears soon after (see: the above image), her opening up for this somber moment garners a fair degree pathos in the viewer — we, as human beings, are inclined to sympathize with people who are open about being hurt.

Metis (Embodied Rhetoric)

[The following ContraPoints quote is addressing the above J.K. Rowling tweet, content warning for transmisogyny] "Transphobes love to play this game where they pretend that trans people just don't understand basic biology, that's our problem! As if I didn't start taking female hormones because I'm acutely aware that my body is not the same as a cis woman's body, that sex is real. "[Fictional TERF character] You will never be a woman, Nathan. Every cell in your body is male and has a Y chromosome." Really? That's crazy. How you'd you learn so much about science? You know I don't really feel the need to have a second X chromosome, I get by with only one, I make it work. I actually like the Y chromosome, I think it's a little more dainty, you know, it's little softer, a little more petite. The X chromosome has a lot of extra appendages, and don't you think? I don't need anymore of those, thanks. No trans person thinks it's possible to change chromosomal sex and to pretend otherwise is to argue in bad faith" (08:47-09:34).

If you can excuse my gargantuan quote, I hope you'll agree that the dialogue ContraPoints builds here was just too good to cut short. Within this excerpt, we see Wynn's use of irreverance and personal experience blended seamlessly together. For this YouTuber, the personal is perpetually political — especially when her own identity is constantly taken as an ideological stance. She uses her own expertise in trans issues to pick apart just how disingenuous Rowling's assertions are — even accusing her of "argue[ing] in bad faith" with her reductive claims (later, taking specific issue with how Rowling treats trans-ness as a costume). But, here, she also directly invokes another rhetorical trope: that of metis, or embodied rhetoric. Natalie Wynn specifically references her transgender body as a sort of counterpoint to the condescending "sex is real" claims by TERFs. She cites her intrinsic desire to pursue hormonal therapy as evidence that she — and other trans people like her — are all "acutely aware" that there are chromosomal differences between themselves and cis women. With this salient statement, she then follows with some humor: which, again, utilizes her trans body in her rhetoric. Her characterization of the Y chromosome as "more petite" and playful declaration of not needing "extra appendages" lightens up the often dark tone that arguing for trans rights and liberation can take. The clever points she makes are by no means weakened by her humor — if anything, the audience is more willing to listen to someone who can "joke about themselves" (so to speak) while still arguing an incredibly important message.

Naming and Defining Issues

"When I see Joanne tweeting about how trans people think sex isn't real and they're erasing same-sex attraction and they're silencing women, alarm bells are ringing because I recognize these as familiar transphobic talking points, specifically TERF talking points. "TERF" means trans exclusionary radical feminism. God are we still talking about this? I promise this is the last time. So TERFism is a hate movement that disguises transphobia as feminism. ... The fundamental problem with TERFs is not that they're mean. It's that they're politically reactionary, they want to reverse the progress of trans liberation." (14:05-16:02)

In her definition of TERF rhetoric, Natalie Wynn outlines some dog-whistles that are obvious to her, as a trans woman. She calmly explains to the viewer that, oftentimes in the present-day, rhetorics of exclusion are thoroughly disguised; TERFs, specifically, hide their rampant transphobia as a form of feminism. However, she further clarifies that the specific "danger" that TERFs pose is not from their cruelty — it's from their fervent dedication to strip away trans rights through political means. By specifying this danger, Natalie Wynn shifts the conversation away from empty discussion of offensiveness/terminology, to issues which directly affect the lives of trans people every day.

[This portion addresses the picture above] Also an act of naming and defining, ContraPoints makes a distinction between "Direct" and "Indirect Bigotry." She argues that many people envision bigotry as a festering, public, frothing-at-the-mouth hatred — a phenomenon she dubs "the Westboro Baptist Church theory of bigotry" (20:06). In bringing attention to the human tendency to think of people as exclusively practicing "direct bigotry" — envisioning them as a sort of delusional "other" — she then forces the audience to contemplate the relative omni-presence of the more covert (and possibly alluring) "indirect bigotry." This definition, crucially, requires introspection. By allowing ourselves to think of bigots not exclusively as "Westboros," we're made to adopt a much more nuanced view of subjects (most) generally prefer to keep black-and-white. Natalie Wynn uses her J.K. Rowling case study to complicate this 2D view of "The Bigot," inviting others to more carefully examine how politically reactionary views develop.

Phew, this was probably the longest post I've ever typed up on tumblr! Hopefully, I succeeded in demystifying (or at least adding clarity to) some of the specific tropes ContraPoints uses (that are common to women's rhetorics as a whole). Thanks for reading if you stuck around this long, and my ask box is always open!

#contrapoints #tw transphobia #tw transmysoginy

[drummergirl231-2]

It’d be so much easier to get hyped if we had more speculation fodder.

In the hiatus between “The Rumble for Ragnarok!” and “The Phantom and the Sorceress!” I did a similar post about how none of my speculations had changed after the first seven episodes of the season because nothing had really happened with regards to the main plot yet. 

Now we’ve had eleven more episodes... twelve if you count “Let’s Get Dangerous!” as two since it was an hour-long special. A lot happened in those episodes, especially regarding the main plot. The family knows F.O.W.L. is after them, Beakley and Scrooge (who know better than anyone else what F.O.W.L. is capable of) are freaking out, we’ve learned a lot about Bradford’s motivations (reining in chaos, trying to control everything and maintain order, etc.), and Huey’s had some more character development.

Still, I’m trying to figure out just what it is about this season that’s so different. During Season 2 we were all abuzz with speculations. “Oh my gosh, how’s Scrooge going to handle Louie turning to Goldie as a mentor? No, how’s Della going to handle Louie turning to Goldie as a maternal figure?”

We were a little off the mark about what was to come, but still, there were things in the episodes we got before going on hiatus that hinted at what was to come. Louie called Goldie and asked her to mentor him at the end of an episode. He seemed to struggle the most bonding with his mother after her return. We were able to piece some things together and speculate.

Why isn’t that happening this time? Well... a lot of these episodes end with what seem like character arcs getting neatly wrapped up. This is the last season, and the writers have a lot of side characters whose story arcs need to conclude.

“The Phantom and the Sorceress!” - Lena learns to control her powers and owns her status as a good witch. Also the episode ends with that classic cartoon let’s-all-laugh-when-nothing-was-funny-until-the-credits-roll bit which feels very much like a conclusion to anyone who’s grown up watching a lot of cartoons.

“They Put a Moonlander on the Earth!” - Penny decides to stay on Earth and take apart her rocket. She is now comfortable knowing she can live out her savior complex by saving people on Earth instead of the Moon, and she’s becoming more social. Apparently Sam King said this would be the last episode to feature Penny. Arc complete.

“The Forbidden Fountain of the Foreverglades!” - We finally see Goldie and Scrooge kiss and it seems like they’re back together...? I think? But at any rate, Goldie having the character development to not leave without saying goodbye and to put Scrooge’s needs ahead of her wants (throwing away her youth to save him) feels like the character development in Goldie we were waiting for.

“Let’s Get Dangerous!” - Setup for a spinoff.

A few episodes hint at things to come. “Escape from the Impossibin!” lets us know that F.O.W.L. stole all the Missing Mysteries. “The Split Sword of Swanstantine!” ends with Black Heron letting Bradford know she’d obtained a feather, presumably from Scrooge. 

I was curious to know what Bradford wanted with the Missing Mysteries, but “The First Adventure!” kind of answered that. He wanted the Papyrus of Binding, not to use it himself (though he eventually did), but to keep it from falling into anyone else’s hands. His whole purpose of founding F.O.W.L. was to take control of the world for control’s sake. He wants to rein in chaos, not make more of it. So it makes perfect sense he’d be after the Missing Mysteries. Also, we see this is when he learned (from Heron) to wait for Scrooge to find something and then take it when he’s not looking - a strategy he used in the present day to obtain the Missing Mysteries. 

As for the feather... now that’s a mystery. But what other theories could there be besides cloning someone, or genetically engineering the ultimate spy (which @alliterative-albatross already talked about)? 

One mystery we have yet to solve is Webby’s origins, and while this season will surely address this, one thing I know would certainly make me more hyped for the answer is knowing what Webby knows/thinks about her parents/origins so far. Does she believe an outright lie about them that Beakley told her? Or did Beakley tell her a half-truth? Did Webby even have parents, or was she created? Has she ever asked Beakley about why she doesn’t have a mom and dad? Did Beakley tell her anything, or did she just say it’s hard for her to talk about and then tell Webby to run along and play?

Donald had told the boys their mother was “gone.” We knew early on in Dewey’s season what they’d been told about their mother, and it wasn’t much. We’re more than two thirds of the way through the final season now and we have no clue what Webby knows or thinks or what she’s been told in the past, and she doesn’t seem at all curious to know about her parents. And with no new hints at her origin story in this last batch of episodes, I don’t know about all of you, but things feel a little stagnant. 

We also haven’t been getting any hints from Frank here on Tumblr. Maybe it’s because the series is ending in a big way and he doesn’t want to spoil a thing, or maybe 2020 just did a number on him like the rest of us. Can’t blame him for that. Can’t blame him for either, really. 

As sad as it is that the series is coming to a close, I hope we don’t have to wait too long to find out this incredible ending the crew can’t wait for us to see.

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales season 3 #ducktales webby #ducktales bradford #ducktales #i might add gifs to this later #but i gotta go to bed... i work early

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide: Tenth Voyage (Ch. 10)

Pairing : Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Action, Fantasy, Smut, Fluff

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death, Slow Burn, Happy Ending Endgame

Chapter Specific Tags:  Repeated Main Character Death, Reincarnation, Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Graphic Blood and Violence, Brief Mentions of Mental Health Concerns

Chapter WC: 10k+

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag.

**A/N: Thank you Riza @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ for helping me out with the tarot card readings, ilysm

Taglist moved to the bottom of the work. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post. AO3

Taglist

← Last Voyage  Next Voyage →

The sound of Seonghwa’s screams from that night still haunts the crew.

They’re fortunate, Yunho thinks.

Though, he’d never say it aloud and Geb is kind enough not to call him out on the bitter, spiteful thoughts when they arise.

Anyway, the crew was fortunate.

Most of them are lucky that all they heard was the screams of their First Mate- no -their new Captain. The crewmembers below the deck and the ones unconscious didn’t have to deal with the sight of their captain, the one who held them all together, breaking down.

The fear on his face. The defeat. The pain. The terrified, yet resolute tone in his voice.

All that haunted them was the screams of the ex prince, which, coupled by an explosion of ice, creating a fortress of frost around them, was a beacon in the night for what had happened.

Yunho had to drag him out of the ocean. Nearly got stabbed doing so. It took an hour of Seonghwa diving into the depths, freezing everything around him and reaching fruitlessly before Yunho snatched him back to the surface.

He’d nearly been frozen and stabbed for his efforts and the crew watched on as Yunho pinned Seonghwa to the deck, thick vines keeping him still as he screamed and thrashed.

Just behind him, Mingi stood back with an unconscious San in his arms. Wooyoung was at his side, eyes wide as tears rolled down his cheeks while Yeosang leaned over the taffrail, emptying the contents of the dinner he’d worked hard to make into the ocean. Jongho still lay unconscious under the broken planks of wood in the hold, sea water soaking his clothes and Whiro noticeably absent from his skin for once.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG!” Seonghwa screamed, his voice raw and cracking as he thrashed in Yunho’s arms.

None of them had ever seen the level headed ex prince fall apart like this. He bore his teeth at him, trying to wrestle his way free, freezing parts of his body to try and get Yunho to let him go. The sight of the raven-haired immortal coming apart at the seams broke everyone’s heart and Geb gently whispered into Yunho’s ear so he could settle Seonghwa down the hard way.

They weren’t getting anywhere like this.

So Yunho sighed and created a small flower near Seonghwa’s head, tears slipping down his cheeks. Seonghwa looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying.

“H-Hong-”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Small spores wafted out of the flower and slowly Seonghwa’s thrashing slowed down. He felt his body grow heavy as Yunho put his head in his lap, crying quietly as Seonghwa’s pitch black hair slowly went back to it’s natural blonde color.

“N...o...Hongjoong...putois…”

Yunho wished all that haunted him was the screams, and not the guilt of not being strong or fast enough to keep him from disappearing. That Hongjoong’s quivering, terrified voice didn’t knock around his head as much as the anguished howls of Seonghwa.

Unfortunately, that was all it was. Wishful thinking.

-x-

- I finally get what you've been saying

Now that we're knee deep side by side

The storm clouds are circling above us

As we struggle against the tide-

-x-

There are intricacies that come with warfare, the king knew these well.

Though, even he may admit that this was an... unfortunate miscalculation.

Getting to a point in Hongjoong’s mind where he was distracted enough for him to actually affect his powers was leagues more difficult than he’d ever let anyone know. For as much as he antagonized the pirate, the dragon inside would admit he had much more mental fortitude than he originally gave him credit for.

Stupid mortals and their useless sense of ‘love’.

Though, technically, he wasn’t a mortal anymore.

Whatever.

Regardless of what the little captain was classified as, the fight with the one called ‘Priscilla’ had left him in such a panic that the dragon was able to break through, tap into the core of their-no, his -powers, and snatch it from under him while he was fighting for everyone’s lives.

Disgusting.

He figured he’d distract the foolish captain long enough for him to kill him mentally and rid himself of the beast.

Oh, and sink that damned ship and rip it’s crew to pieces. For fun.

He’d never expected a curse to be placed on him because of his intervention. Not only did the she beast strip the captain of all of his knowledge of who he was and his crew, she had inadvertently banished the dragon to the farthest recesses of the captain’s mind.

As the king stood, he couldn’t see light in either direction.

He had to get back to the front so he could take control. He had to break out before the captain remembered and broke the curse. He could handle Pricilla later.

With a scoff, he turned into his dragon form and snorted.

A minor misstep. He could outsmart some stupid immortal wannabes and that grotesque bastard child.

Then, he’d create havoc.

For fun.

And revenge.

But mostly fun.

-x-

-I feel your grip firm on my shoulder,

But this fear in my head won’t subside,

They patiently circle around us,

As we hold out… -

-x-

“Do you see those men there? They hold your entire fate in their hands.”

Hongjoong panted, blood running into his eyes as his hair was pulled back roughly. On the other side of a clear glass bubble, he could see seven men in a room. There was a tall blonde man pacing. Every time his boot touched the floor, it would freeze before the ice melted.

There was a taller man holding onto two smaller men who were crying.

Something was said and the blonde turned suddenly, his body rigid. A buffer man stood between him and the group, reaching for something on his person. The blonde man crossed the room and took his hand, the tips of his fingers frosting around the man’s wrist as he glared at him, saying something.

Hongjoong couldn’t hear a word either of them were saying, nor did he care. He pivoted on his heel, elbowing the monstrous woman behind him in the face before he broke off into a run.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he figured if he ran far enough, screamed loud enough-

Something hard slammed into his back, knocking him forward. He rolled, his clothing soaked by the water as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. When he looked up, a rabid dog was staring him down.

He screamed in terror and backed away, eyes wide.

Who was she? Why was she doing this to him? Where even was he?

Fangs sunk into his thigh before he was dragged back towards the woman, kicking and screaming.

A dark smile came to her face.

“Get real comfortable, little pirate. With how your sorry crew looks, you’ll be stuck here with me forever and ever~ You’re here because of them, at the very least, you should know that they’re the reason you’re here.”

-x-

- Oh, father why have they forsaken me?

You warned me that they would,

The curse is passing down the bloodline,

Misspoken and misunderstood.-

-x-

“Seonghwa, all I’m saying is we can try it out-”

“We’re not calling that woman!”

Jongho pursed his lips, annoyed at the older immortal raising his voice at him, while Wooyoung flinched and whined behind him, sitting with Yeosang in Yunho’s arms as the two of them cried.

“What else are we going to do? How else do we start? We don’t even know what happened to Hongjoong fully or where that witch took him!” the Maori man snapped back.

Seonghwa paced like a caged animal, but eventually scoffed, admitting temporary defeat.

“Fine. Call her.” He hissed. Jongho eyed him for a moment before reaching for the feather dangling from his hip. Whiro curiously shifted along his skin, but Jongho focused on the feather, holding it out in front of him.

“Hyuna!”

Seonghwa and the others stood and waited.

And waited.

And waited….

And...waited….

“Why...isn't she coming?”

Seonghwa’s nostrils flared in anger before he barked out a laugh.

“Oh, look at that. She’s not coming . You wait around for her and we’ll never find Hongjoong. Right now, we can start by finding out who fucking stole that fucking staff.” He hissed.

The temperature in the room drastically lowered as ice cold grey eyes scanned over everyone in the group.

They lingered on some more than others.

“It wasn’t me. Don’t stare at me like that.” Mingi’s voice was hurt as he looked down at the floor. Seonghwa’s jaw ticked.

“I didn’t say it was you.” He stiffly informed him.

“You didn’t have to. I was raised around Bella Rose, I know an accusatory look when I see it. It wasn’t me.” He muttered, his voice quieter. San noticed the clench of his fists and the tears welling up in the boatswain’s eyes and moved to place a hand on his back. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, keeping his eyes on the duo. Yeosang began to hiccup through his sobs in Yunho’s arms, so the man stood, catching Seonghwa’s attention.

“I don’t...think that should be our top priority. Not right now.”

“I disagree. One of you stole the staff, and Hongjoong is gone now. That seems pretty damn important. Which one of you did it?” He spat, malice dripping from his voice. Even Jongho flinched back, his brows pulled together. Whiro shifted along his skin and tutted before lifting upwards.

Jongho moved to reel him in, but he was met with more than the usual amount of resistance and Whiro’s voice in his head.

‘For once, trust me, kid.’

Jongho pursed his lips and let Whiro form into a mirror image of himself aside from the blonde hair, red eyes, and ta moko. He rolled his shoulders and looked at Seonghwa, who looked unimpressed and fed up before anything even left the fragmented god’s mouth.

“If you’re going to talk shit, save-”

“Nah, you’ve said enough the past few days. Shut up and listen for once, prince.”

Seonghwa snarled, but Whiro ignored him, keeping his thick arms crossed as he spoke. Even Jongho looked on curiously as Whiro continued.

“What exactly are you gonna do with that information? Hm? Hurt one of them? Kick them out? Is that what the old captain would have wanted?”

Seonghwa looked taken aback-and he wasn’t the only one.

Seven pairs of eyes watched Whiro in shock.

“Whoever stole it doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is whether you like it or not, you’re the captain now. From what I understand after Jongho and I got knocked the fuck out, you were told to protect this ship and it’s crew. Last time I checked, this temper tantrum you’re throwing isn’t protecting shit, not even yourself.”

“Am I not allowed my hurt? My anger? Hongjoong was...Hongjoong was my first love, he saved my life-”

Whiro rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I’m stuck here in this body for all of eternity and I feel what he feels,” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of a shocked Jongho before he kept talking. “Get your shit together. Stop your sniveling, and start being the leader the shortstack knows you can be. The kid is strong. He may have lost this, but at one point, he had eight spirits inside of him and didn’t fall completely to ruin. Instead of doing the exact opposite of what he said to do and tear this crew apart, wipe your nose, wash your face for fuck’s sake, and go find the shortstack. He needs you, all of you. It’s been a week and we’re still in Greece. I’ll give you a day or so longer to get those tears out before I expect all fucking seven of you to quit bitchin’ and start searchin’. Do I make myself clear?”

Seonghwa blinked before he ran a hand through his hair.

“Gods, is it that bad that the literal God of Evil is trying to help?”

“Yes, actually.” Whiro responded without missing a beat, drawing an involuntary laugh out of some of them.

“I’m stuck to Jongho for all of eternity. I’d rather not to deal with all of these stupid ass gushy ass emotions normally, but since I have no choice now, I’d rather we pull ourselves together. Oh, and when I get my hands on that serpentine bitch, you can all step aside. I’ll take care of her myself.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but turned to the group, sighing as he bowed himself down.

“I...I’m sorry.” There was more sitting on his tongue, but that was all he said for the time being, turning to leave. Once the sound of his boots on the wood retreated down the hall and out of earshot, everyone let out a relieved sigh, turning to look over at Whiro.

“Holy shit. You helped us.” San muttered.

Whiro cocked a brow.

“Helped you? Please. I’m just tired of the back and forth and even ol’ Jongie boy here is getting affected by all this more than I’d like, for us to share a body. I helped myself, nothing more.” It was a lie, and all of them knew that much, but no one called him on it. Before he disappeared into Jongho’s skin, however, he did have something else to add.

“Though, my words will only light the fire under his ass and distract him for so long. You all seem content not knowing who took it, and that’s strange to me, but whatever. I suggest you all find the pipsqueak captain before blondie starts getting in his own head again. I can’t assure you all I can step out of Jongho every time Seonghwa becomes overwhelmed with anguish. I put these emotions in the world, I know their power. You don’t want the ice prince coming after you because most of you won’t be able to stop the rage that kid has inside from this. So find him. And quit feelin’ so damn sorry for yourselves.” With that, Whiro settled back onto the skin of Jongho’s arms.

Everyone glanced at each other before standing to go to their own respective rooms except Yunho, since they had gathered in his room.

As one of them left, his shoulders slumped lower than the others, his heart thundering in his chest.

‘I’m sorry I took it...I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...I didn’t know it would be this way, please forgive me, I just-’

-x-

-We're losing light

And strength of will

The darkened depths beckoning still

And we hold on

Against the tide-

-x-

Dawn pursed his lips.

“The pirates called for you. Should we get going?”

Hyuna lifted her head from the tub of water she was mostly submerged in.

“Can’t. They’re in Greece. If I stepped foot in Greco-Roman territory again, Zeus would surely come down from Olympus himself to strike me down. He’s still bitter I didn’t just accept my role as the harbinger of evil to mankind and then die off like the toy he created me to be. Whatever the boys need me for, I’ll just apologize next time they call on me. I’m  sure it’s nothing. Besides, the last time they called me, I got my ass kicked. They’ll live if I just take a rain check this once.” Hyuna pouted from the tub before sinking back into the water, her inky hair making the water seem like it was pitch black.

Dawn watched her for a moment before humming and turning to sharpen his sickles.

Maybe she had a point.

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

When Lloyd answered the door that one cold night in January, he wasn’t expecting his son on the other side of the door. His lips parted in surprise.

“Jesus it's cold, Lloyd, why is the door op-YUNHO!”

Yunho laughed through his tears as Robin shot out from behind Lloyd, nearly knocking him down as he hugged him tight. His dreads, though graying, were much longer than the last time Yunho saw him, and he couldn’t help the big smile that crossed his face as the sound of thundering footsteps followed by excited screams pierced through the night air.

The smell of sapodilla and of Barbados lilies flooded his nose with the smell of cerasee clinging to Robin’s clothes.

Before he knew it, he was crying, relieved to see all four of his parents in good health.

Lloyd observed them with a small smile on his face, before he noticed the men standing just off behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Lloyd, one of Yunho’s fathers. My partners will introduce themselves once they’re finished hugging the daylights out of our poor son...though...there seems to be more of you than last time, and I don’t see the captain…?”

Yunho tensed immediately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his parents. Mei pulled away first, noticing the wobble of Yunho’s lip and Valeria cupped his cheeks.

“Ay, lad...what’s wrong baby?”

“I’m...I’m the captain now.” Seonghwa spoke, though he didn’t meet any of their eyes. Robin pulled away, as well, and Yunho sighed, rubbing his arm.

“I...I came home because we need some help.” He murmured.

All four of them exchanged a look before Lloyd stepped aside.

“Come inside from the cold, boys. Mei will brew some tea, and you can explain what happened.”

-20 years Later-

Mingi sat in silence as he sat in a cathedral. He had taken some time away from Yunho’s island to visit another, picking up a few books to read from a shop on curses and the like. Was it the most ideal place to be reading something like this? Most likely not, but he had to do what he needed to.

The crew had stayed near the Caribbean Islands, doing their absolute best to find somewhere, anywhere to start.

It was stifling, with tensions so high. Some members from the original crew had either moved on or passed away trying to help Seonghwa and the others locate Hongjoong, and the blonde captain had been adamant about not bringing new members in.

There...was no love lost between the seven of them, Mingi liked to think, but he’d be lying if he said Seonghha hadn’t put up a wall between all of them and himself. After Whiro put him in his place, he seemed to mask his true anguish and hurt, and they all could tell it was taking a toll on him, though he always put on and front when he was around them.

He was the leader. The captain. He had to keep himself together, lest they all fall apart. Hongjoong trusted him to do this much. To protect them. If that meant suppressing his own emotions for the betterment of the crew, so be it. It wasn’t like it was something he didn’t know how to do already.

He was raised as royalty, next up for the throne and title of a king. Kings couldn’t show any cowardice and weakness. Seonghwa could hide away his emotions well enough.

Though, that was a lie. They could all see it. The chips in his icy exterior. The tremble in his lips when he kissed them. The slight, barely there crack in his voice when he went to reassure them. Seonghwa was falling apart and masking it with layers of ice, but none of them had the heart to call him out.

Not when they were falling apart too.

An air of failure and guilt clung to them and no amount of sweet words from Yunho’s parents could hold it back for too long.

Speaking of parents...

Mingi’s fingers trembled on the page. Right. He had to return to the island soon. Lloyd had passed away of natural causes from his old age and they would be having a celebration of life for him tonight.

The four of them all but put a pause on their work to help out with locating Hongjoong, studying everything from mythology, to curses themselves.

For two decades, they tirelessly helped them, and Mingi was forever grateful. Honestly, it was all four of them that kept the boys from completely losing hope. From the Irish, foul-mouthed tongue lashings they (lovingly) got from Valeria, to Robin taking their mind off of it with teaching them capoeira, to Mei gently telling them Korean folktales over cups of tea when the stress was too high, and finally, old Lloyd teaching all of them the way of herbal medicine and always lending an ear when they needed to vent.

The four of them had all but become the in-laws to the group, and Mingi was forever grateful.

“You look troubled.”

Mingi jolted, closing his book as a nun walked up to him. Mingi scooted over as she sat beside him, placing her hands on her lap as she looked forward past the pews to stare at the beautiful organ at the forefront of the hall.

He subtly hid the book behind his thigh, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere quiet to read and-”

“You’ve been staring at that page for half an hour. Either that passage is really good, or you’re troubled.” She laughed lightly. Mingi stared at the side of her face. His brow furrowed.

Why did she seem so familiar…?

“Would you like someone to lend an ear? We have a confessional, or I could just listen.” She offered, kind brown eyes staring into his own. He lowered his gaze to his hands and sighed.

“I’m just...looking for someone close to me. They were taken away and I don’t know if I can find them or where to start.” he muttered. The nun tilted her head before crossing her feet at the ankle, sitting up straighter.

Mingi expected her to mention God, they were in a place of worship, after all.

“I think you should take time to clear your heart and your mind. You’re very troubled and you won’t be able to focus on your objective when you are so conflicted. Life...throws lots of hurdles at you. Take time to catch your breath and don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can be surprised how asking different people for advice will steer you in the right direction. Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at it from a different angle. Remember that, and I hope you find your friend.” She smiled and stood up, waving to Mingi as she turned to leave.

“Wait!”

She paused.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry if this is...a weird question, but what is your name, Sister?” He inquired. She blinked in surprise before sending him a kind name.

“Mine? My name is Sister Gracie.”

-x-

Seonghwa stood in front of a mirror, looking at his reflection. His jaw was clenched tight as he wiped his eyes. He had to pull himself together. Two decades and they haven’t found him yet.

He looked into his own grey eyes, his voice tense.

“I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll find you, mon petit putois.” he muttered, adjusting the buttons to his shirt.

What he couldn’t tell, in a plane beyond the one he was standing in, was Hongjoong was looking back at him.

Panicked fists slammed against the invisible aquatic wall that separated the two of them.

“Hey! Hey!! I’m screaming at you, please!” Hongjoong looked behind him, finding something slithering in the depths of water behind him. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he screamed louder, his voice getting raw as he reached desperately for the vision of the blonde man. He pressed his palm to the man’s image, tears in his eyes.

“ Please! I’m screaming, I’m begging! Why, why can’t you hear me?! Help me!”

A thick tentacle wrapped around his waist, pulling him roughly. Hongjoong scrambled, pressing both hands to the barrier. A laugh echoed from behind him before he was snatched back, away from the image of the blonde man.

In the guest room, Seonghwa placed a palm on the cool mirror, eyes downcast.

“I’ll find you. No matter how far you are, Hongjoong.”

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

He can feel it. Every time he dies. Every time he’s reborn and has a different name.

~1668, the first death after the curse was placed on him, he’s  trampled by a horse.

1690, he can feel his throat closing after a fatal allergic reaction.

1712, an accident while trying to help create the first working steam engine.~

Hongjoong feels it all. It doesn’t help, the she-beast likes to toy with him. Sometimes she lets him roam free, in the vast expanse of...wherever he was trapped in. He had no concept of the passage of time anymore while he was in here. Everything felt...stalled and floaty. The woman told him he had been there for almost a century, in her clutches, but he paid it no mind.

That was absurd.

~1734, flash, then it’s gone with a lightning strike.

1756, huddled up for warmth, only to die by the morning from exposure getting lost in the mountains.

1778, blood loss from a carpenter accident. He was a careless man in this particular life.~

Sometimes she leaves him alone. For very long periods of time. He doesn’t know if he prefers that or not. On one hand, her torture was agonizing, between the way she’d wound him, leaving him on the brink of what surely should have been death, but unlike his selves on the outside, he couldn’t die in here.

No, he had to slowly power through the pain, slowly heal in this god forsaken place, and then she’d come back, and start all over.

He envied the other ‘hims’ on the outside. They got to live lives, all of which unfulfilling and mostly in poverty, but they still got to live them, and then they all died on November 7th, only for the piece of his soul to be cast away to another part of the world, into a newborn and reborn once again.

Then the cycle continued. He watched it all from this space. His lives, his deaths, over and over again.

The woman never called him anything other than cruel names and ‘Captain’, though he had no idea of what anymore.

Hell, he was pretty sure he’d forgotten his own name while trapped in here.

~1800, a casualty in the Quasi War.

1822, a fall from a moving locomotive.

1844, a fatal encounter with a wild boar.

1866, a mine shaft collapse.~

When he’s alone for decades at a time, he feels a bit of his sanity slip. Like he’ll never get out of this place. Like he’ll be here for all of eternity. Sometimes, he lays on his back, with his eyes closed for as long as he can, and waits.

Nothing ever happens, but sometimes it's easier to just...exist. Rest his eyes and his tired body. He hasn’t given up. Not yet, anyway, but sometimes it's better for him to just... be.

He’ll never admit to that woman that sometimes he looks forward to her arrival when she comes back from leaving him for so long, just because her presence grounds him into reality.

Or, rather, whatever hellish reality he’s found himself in at her hands.

At her hands, and as he looks out at the bubble she forces him to look at, finding those same seven men. Or, rather, two of them, this time.

They’re in Paris, the one with the dimples has an arm around the other one’s waist, muttering something into his ear. He nudges him before a tender smile comes to his lips and the two share a kiss before disappearing into a hotel room.

The brunette looked away, not sure why he was made to follow these people along though his time here. She always sneered in his ear that they were to blame, that they were the key to getting him out, that they were all happier without him and had forgotten him at this point.

She never showed him the seven of them tirelessly searching for him. He didn’t even know how hard they were working. She carefully picked out the rare moments they took time to themselves to catch their breaths and try and stabilize themselves, painting them as people who didn��t have any sense of urgency or care in the world.

The cook who made large meals with a big smile on his face. The inseparable duo, always attached at the hip, in each other’s space, bringing love and comfort to one another. The tall man with his nose in the books, glasses perched on his nose as he spent days engrossed in his books. The other tall one, filling out his notebooks with whatever hasty, nearly illegible sprawlings came to him as he sat amongst plants. The rugged one with the curious markings on his arms and legs that sometimes shifted and formed some dark being. Hongjoong would be surprised, but he had an aquatic beast breathing down his neck with tentacles for legs and rabid dog heads extending from her waist, so he would be lying if he said he was truly surprised.

The only one that never looked like he was relaxed was the blonde. Pricilla didn’t show him for long, but whenever he was in the background of those visions she’d hand picked for him, he looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. An air of guilt and anguish always settled underneath whatever expression he happened to have on his face, and it always made Hongjoong tilt his head and gave him a small flicker of hope.

~1888, a fall during the construction of a new building.

1910, a stage accident during the production of a play.

1932, burned alive saving a child from a fire.

1954, starvation.

1976, a hostage, taken out in an unsuccessful negotiation.~

He’s exhausted. He wonders if Pricilla is too. Doesn’t it get exhausting to do this to someone? Was what happened that led him to this point really that bad?

He watched his soul go into another body, sitting down and watching this one grow up. Quite the rebellious one, this version of himself. From his mullet, to the dark makeup around his eyes and the piercings littering his ears.

The trapped man watched him, grateful Pricilla had chosen to leave him alone for the time being.

He looked at a calendar on the wall behind the other him as he walked by one day, spotting the ‘1997’ on the wall.

Ah, only a year left until he’d die and another incarnation of him would come.

One day, as the other him is looking in the mirror, the trapped soul stands and stares at him. He knows he looks like hell, though he’s grateful Pricilla never showed him what he looked like. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure if these versions of ‘himself’ were really him, or if it was all just an elaborate lie.

“I’m right here. I’ve been right here. You’re lucky, living on the outside. You don’t even know I’m here, do you? You can’t see me, they never can.” He muttered bitterly.

The man on the other end paused the application of his makeup, his cut brow twitching.

“I can hear you. I liked it better when you were just some weird, fucked up version of myself in my dreams, though. I have enough on my plate without worrying about if I need to see a shrink for voices in my head.”

He froze.

“You can hear me?! You can hear me, really?!”

The other him narrowed his eyes.

“Jesus, you’re loud. Yes, I can hear you.”

He stared wide eyed at himself and for the first time in centuries, he had a flicker of hope. He wasn’t sure what changed, but for once, he got the fire in his whole body to get up and fight with his whole body once more.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“You still haven’t forgotten the pirate from Delphi?”

Grey-ish blue eyes opened slowly and looked up at a pair that were identical.

“I could have done something, Tem.”

A small hum came from her lips as she crossed her legs and stared at him. She reached over, smoothing down his blonde hair before she pulled him into a hug.

“Why do you cling onto that immortal? He was only with you for but so long.”

“He made an impression. The way he spoke of his family and his crew, it was honestly the most genuine and pure emotions I’ve seen in centuries, and still, I haven’t quite seen anything like it.” he muttered.

He was met with a small hum.

“So, centuries later, several incarnations of him later, and you still want to step in and help? Is it because of Hyacinthus?”

He pursed his lips, looking down at her collar, biting his lip.

“I-”

“He’s gone, Apollo. But I see this means a lot to you. Father and Uncle have their hands tied with their...ugh...escapades, so I doubt you’d find much resistance. I can...I can try and help you. I hate to see my brother like this.”

Blue eyes widened and he pulled back.

“Artemis-”

“I said I can try . You and I, there is only but so much that we can do. This may even require you to step out from Olympus, out from our domain, and into the domain of other deities. Some of them may not be too privy to actually help out. Our father hasn’t left the greatest of impressions on the other sky deities and they tend to run the show. But, I will try for you.” She kissed the top of his head and sat back.

“We should get started. We should look into this curse a bit more. If it was our...darling cousin that put the curse on the man, I wouldn’t be surprised if she put in some hidden stipulations.”

He stood, eyes determined.

“Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

Artemis smiled and led him out of the room.

“Let's start by talking to the Fates. Maybe they can tell us where we can start.”

-x-

-We're slowly losing ground

And hope is harder to maintain

When all the prayers we've prayed

Feel lost like tears in the rain-

-x-

The king snarled, exhaustion pulling at his form.

Really, how fucking long had he been there? Was he even going in the right direction? Which way was up or down?

The heavens themselves wouldn’t save that damn beast of a woman when he got to the front of the pathetic pirate’s mind. He swore it on his own pride and honor, he would revel in breaking her in half.

Then those incompetent ass pirates. He was certain if they had gotten to the kid sooner and broke whatever curse was inflicted, he would’ve already been at the forefront of the captain’s mind once more.

Instead, he was here, swimming in the inky blackness of this idiot’s mind, unsure if he was even-

“-member me?”

He blinked, hearing an echo. His scaled head snapped up, pausing momentarily.

Was that…?

“I have dreams, yes. Of past ‘mes’, I guess. You’re really kind of persistent.”

“I’m sorry, I just...I need you to remember fully who you are, who we are. You’re the first one of me that can see and hear me. I think maybe...Maybe we can break the curse?”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

The king’s fangs glinted as he looked towards the sound of the voices.

“F i n a l l y.”

-x-

-The waters pulling down

The moon's eclipsing the sun

The ending that we knew would come

Has finally begun-

-x-

Joong wasn’t much.

He lived his life poor and disinterested in life. His only friend was a fortune-telling, self proclaimed sun witch, and his only real interest in life was his motorcycle.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The dreams that plagued him since he was a child, of past lives and their subsequent deaths, none of it interested him.

They, like this persistent voice in his head for the past year, harping on a ‘curse’ or whatever, were just an inconvenience. He hadn’t heard from the ‘other him’ in a while, so maybe it was just an illusion from staying up late too many nights or something.

Either way, all this talk of mythical creatures and curses was truly a bother.

“Ah, you’re here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

He ducked under the beaded curtain of the fortune telling shop, sitting across from a gorgeous woman with feline eyes.

“I told you I’d come, Siyeon. It is your birthday.”

Siyeon smiled softly and reached for his hands, gently rubbing her thumbs along the back of them.

“Yeah, but you never let me read your cards.”

Joong shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his sandy brown mullet.

“Yeah, well. Happy birthday, how do you want me to do this?” He inquired. She laughed and pulled out a beautiful deck of tarot cards.

“You can shuffle the cards. Pull three of them and place them in a triangle formation and flip them one by one for me, okay?” the witch seemed excited about him participating, so he sent her a small, kind smile. He didn’t quite believe in any of this, but Siyeon was someone incredibly important to him, so just this once, he would go along with it.

He shuffled the cards, humming a birthday song to Siyeon while he did so before he followed her instructions and plucked three of the cards from three different sections of the deck, placing them in front of him in the shape of a triangle.

“Okay, flip them.”

Joong nodded and flipped the cards one by one.

Siyeon’s smile immediately fell.

A Reversed Emperor, The Tower, and the Three of Swords.

“Well that doesn’t look pleasant.” Joong tried to tease, but Siyeon’s expression didn’t crack. She looked up at him, brows pinched together. Joong shifted in his chair, the chains attached to his leather pants jingling from the move.

“Well? You gonna tell me what my fortune is, Si?”

“Right...right. Um...First is the Reversed Emperor. This is normally a symbol of power and being the king of kings, of sorts but um...reversed, there seems to be a lot of turmoil within you. You don’t have as much control as you’d like to believe you do, and it’s left you with a fake sense of safety and security.” She stared at the card before looking towards the second one.

“The Tower...there is chaos brewing for you, Joong. Chaos and destruction, and soon, something will happen that will absolutely turn your whole world upside down. The last, the Three of Swords, means heartbreak of some form is coming. It can be interpreted as something to do with the relationships you have, but it also can be in reference to some kind of terrible pain and suffering.”

“Well, that sounds welcoming.” Joong hummed, shrugging a shoulder. Siyeon looked at him, her face conflicted.

“I-”

“Hey, it's alright. Maybe your cards just don’t like me today.” He teased. Siyeon opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t how it worked, but he put a hand over hers, sending her a disarming smile.

“Hey, it’s your birthday. Don’t worry so much about this stuff right now. I finally let you read my cards, so let’s go out to eat or something.” He offered. Siyeon resisted the urge to scold him and tell him to take what she had read more seriously, to caution himself, but instead, she only nodded and stood from her table.

“You’re taking me to the Latin place down the street, right?”

“Only the best for my best witch. See what I did there?”

“Because I’m a witch, hardy harr, let’s go nerd.”

-x-

“What do you mean there was a curse placed on him?! How long was it gonna take before you found me?!”

“We tried days after it happened! You didn’t respond!”

Hyuna paused, staring at Yeosang in surprise before she squinted.

“Wait...in Greece…?”

“Yes!”

“HE’S BEEN GONE FOR THAT-” a hand covered her mouth and she nearly bit San, eyes narrowing at him. He sent her a dirty look, wiping his hand off on his jeans before he looked at Dawn.

He was the calmer of the two of them, so they’d get answers from him.

“Hyuna can’t step foot in the Greco-Roman territories. Zeus would skin her alive. Since you all were in Greece when you called on her, she didn’t come for her own safety. And I imagine because of her not responding that time, none of you called on us again until right now?” the weasel spirit inquired.

Wooyoung, San, and Mingi shook their heads. The three of them had stuck together this time.

Somewhere at the turn of the 20th century, Seonghwa had suggested they start splitting up to try and find Hongjoong, since all seven of them looking in the same spot in such a vast and ever changing world was...impractical, at best. Downright idiotic at worst.

It made sense, but all of them knew that was the kindest way Seonghwa could tell them he couldn’t stand looking at some of them as much as he could anymore. They had begun to see the cracks once more. The barely concealed tick of his jaw when he thought no one was looking. The way he sometimes scanned their group when they were together, silently hoping whoever took it would come forward.

At the very least, he needed to know who did it. Whiro be damned.

Speaking of, he and Jongho had become exceptional trackers, which came as no surprise to the group. After all, Jongho had tracked down Hongjoong with the minimal information and tech that he had from before, so this was progressively getting easier.

He just needed to be faster. He’d found Hongjoong once, the last time, but by time he got to the city he felt Hongjoong was in, he could only stand by in wide-eyed shock as the sound of a gunshot rang out into the night.

He didn’t tell the others that part. He and Whiro would bear that one alone.

Regardless of their failures, they often grouped up on the 22nd year, to try to fruitlessly put together the pieces they needed to find him this time before his birthday passed and they inevitably lost their opportunity once more.

It was 1998 now. The 22nd year. He’s birthday was in a week and he’d die once more if they didn’t find him.

Hyuna frowned and looked at her box on her hip.

“I don’t have any spirits for searching, but I can find some. For...y’know, the next time.” She cringed. The boys did as well before hearing the door to the loft they were temporarily staying in open.

Seonghwa must have come home.

Hyuna gauged the looks on their faces and cringed.

“Right, then. I imagine this won’t be a good look for me to be here if that’s how all of you are looking at me. Dawn and I will go and I’ll get back to you as soon as I find a dog spirit suited for the job. I’m...I’m sorry.” She bowed her head down and the two of them disappeared as soon as the door opened.

Seonghwa stared at the trio for a moment before pointing behind him, his voice having lost nearly all of it’s usual sass and coyness.

“Come, I brought food.”

The three of them exchanged a look before trudging out of the room.

-x-

“Apollo, you really are impressive.”

Alistair, or rather, Apollo, wiped sweat from his brow and looked up from his spot on the floor before Hera, blood running down his temple as he tossed the head of some beast at her feet.

“Will you help me?”

“I haven’t seen you so determined to do anything since Hyacinthus’ death. And even Kaliopel is helping out-”

“I spoke with the Fates, I’ve spoken to Aunt Persephone and convinced Uncle Hades to offer up assistance in locating where the soul goes...even Nana Styx offered to pacify my father. I just need your help this once.”

Hera arched a perfectly curved brow.

“And if I say no?”

“I assure you, I can find someone else who will help me in my plight. This could be your chance to get rid of me, but if not-”

“I’m listening.”

Apollo exhaled, looking at the sun disk charm in his palm. He had retrieved it from the sea shortly after Hongjoong disappeared into the depths all those moons ago.

“I offer up half of my godhood for your assistance. All I ask is your assistance in distracting my father and for your aid in my wife and I finding him. It’s too late this time for us to intervene, but I think a soul toiling around in this cycle without the acceptance of the gods is already means enough for someone to step in. If he is out of our domain, I shall go to him. I just ask that you help me, this once. You’ll never see me again afterwards.”

Hera looked at him in genuine surprise.

“All this running, and it’s not for another consort?”

“No. It’s to break the curse no one authorized my cousin to make. Even Uncle Poisiden doesn’t seem to recall giving Scylla permission to do such a thing. It has caused conflict between him and Uncle Hades.”

Hera stared at him for a long while, looking at the offering he’d so graciously tossed at her feet. She tutted and stood, her sandaled feet being the only sound in the room as she descended the stairs to her throne. She plucked a peacock feather from her robe and pressed it to Apollo’s forehead.

“Get up off of your knees. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your words and determination have appealed to me. I shall take part of your godhood in exchange for my assistance, but it shall be restored in full if you can complete your task. I will only help you once. If he dies again, you’re on your own.” She warned him before humming.

“I’ll even see about getting you some extra assistance.”

Apollo perked.

“Extra?”

“Don’t get too excited. It won’t be easy. We’ll see how determined you are. Go speak to Mnemosyne and her daughter Klio and refresh yourself with what you have missed. Then go.”

Apollo nodded and stood, a resolute look on his face.

“Thank you, Hera.”

“Tell anyone I was kind to you and I’ll find a way to kill you myself. Now go.”

Without another word, the Sun God turned on his heel and left, looking at the sun disk in his palm.

There was a lot of work to be done.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

It's finally begun

You're reaping what you've sown

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“JOONG! JOONG HOLD ON, PLEASE!”

The biker looked towards the sky, his body growing numb as he felt Siyeon’s hands shakily cup his face. Somewhere off to the side, his motorcycle lay in pieces.

So this was it? A car collision?

Ugh.

“Joong! Joong please!”

He knows Siyeon is yelling, but all he can hear is static. Above her head, he can see the sad reflection of himself, looking down at him.

Oh, so that’s where he was.

He stared at it for a long time before blinking slowly, letting out a terse laugh.

“Don’t have such a horrible look on your face. It’s only another life, right? You looked so hopeful. Find yourself again.”

Siyeon’s brows pinched together in confusion, but the other him’s eyes grew.

‘Find yourself again.’

In the depths of the eighth sea, between the planes of this world and the next, the captain grits his teeth and nods, swimming away from his dying form.

He couldn’t give up. It was a slow time coming, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t let her win. Hell, he had even made a breakthrough with himself, something he couldn’t fathom happening before.

He was close. He was close to doing... something .

The king was also getting closer.

‘Pricilla’ had chosen to leave him alone for the first few years of his next life, it was nothing extraordinary. He was an orphan, lonely just like he had been for all sixteen of his lives before this one.

Everything changed in 2008.

“Melody, look!”

He swam to the edge, peering out.

What is this? Someone noticed him in the orphanage?

No one ever noticed him before.

“Hey there, buddy. Do you wanna come home with us? You and your siblings?”

The child frowned and looked at his feet, a small beret hiding most of his hair.

“I don’t have siblings.”

The massive man sent him a smile, tucking his hair behind his ear and as the spirit watched on, he could see he had lots of tattoos.

“You do now. If you’d like to come with us, Hongjoong.” He offered. The ten year old blinked.

“My name..isn’t…”

“George is a bit boring, don’t you think? I like Hongjoong better. It means you’re the center of the whole world, y’know.”

Hongjoong looked up at him, then the woman standing behind him who sent him a gentle smile as three other children clung to her dress, staring at him in anticipation. They looked desperate to get out of the orphanage and have a family.

A happy family.

Hongjoong smiled shyly and walked up to the grey-ish blue eyed man, gently squeezing the little harbor seal plushie he kept with him at all times. He stepped in front of the man, shifting from foot to foot.

“You won’t...you won’t throw me away, will you, mister? Not me and my friend Angel, will you?” He inquired, hugging the seal tighter. The man shook his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hongjoong. Do you accept? Will you come with us?”

Hongjoong paused for only a second longer before he nodded, all but jumping into his arms with a wide smile.

The tall man’s arms closed around him and he smiled, picking him up before picking up one of the other children.

She stared at Hongjoong with wide eyes before smiling softly, her hair up in a ponytail.

“My name is Suzuka. I guess you’re my little brother now?”

Hongjoong nodded eagerly.

“Yes! My name is George-ah no...d-dad said my name is Hongjoong!”

The spirit of the captain watched on with tears in his eyes and disbelief.

Even he didn’t remember his name anymore, but somehow, when this man appeared, he felt a familiar sense of home and warmth when he uttered the name to the child.

The captain watched the child and his family (that word felt so new to him. Family. He hadn’t had a family in ages) grow together. He expected the worst. Expected the tattooed man and his wife to be demons. That had to be it, there was no way he’d have a happy life when the sixteen leading up to this point were so miserable.

They...never treated the four of them with anything other than the purest form of respect and love the captain can remember. He watched on, as the mother sang lullabies and told them stories before bed. As their father taught them how to play music, tattooed fingers working over a guitar, or the keys to a piano.

This...was honestly such a happy and energetic life.

He had friends and family. He smiled every day, got to perform on stages.

Hongjoong...was happy. For the first time in centuries, he was truly happy.

Years later, Pricilla returned, wrapping her limbs around him.

No, no, no, he couldn’t let it end. He couldn’t let the best version of himself die again.

So he turned and fought with all his might. He clawed and scratched and bit down on whatever he could.

No more, he was tired. He wanted to live, he just wanted to live!

“Captain! What’s gotten into you, hm? I haven’t seen such fight in your eyes in a while~”

He’d fight. Harder than ever before. He couldn’t let her win.

Hongjoong thrashes, slamming his fists against the wall. He can see himself, just beyond the water, blissfully unaware.

He’s laughing with his friends, celebrating new years as the calendar rolls over from 2019 to 2020. The captain feels his throat close slightly. This was the 22nd year. He was going to lose again, wasn’t he? He was going to lose his life again if the curse wouldn’t be broken.

Sometimes he screams at his own reflection, hoping somehow he can hear himself. The last one, the biker named Joong, heard his voice. So maybe if he could get through to this one…

He needs to know, he has to find out who he is.

“Hello!? Can you hear me?! Hello!” He screams out to the college student.

“Remember them, remember yourself!” He shouts. It's almost funny in a tragic way. He in spirit can’t even remember the names of the men that held his fate in his hands. The seven men from before. He needed them to help unlock his memories. They were the key as much as he was, he thinks.

Golden eyes watch him, impressed. A clawed hand snakes around his body and squeezes his face so hard it hurts. He glares at the woman, his lips curled up into a scowl. She tuts at him, shaking her head.

“You’ve been fighting for so long, Captain. Wouldn’t it be easier to give up? They look close to calling it quits. How could they not? Centuries without their precious leader, their precious lover-” She spits the word out like a curse, but Hongjoong only pushes past her, swimming to the opposite side of the vast space. He can see the men, six instead of seven this time.

“You want to give up on him?!” Seonghwa snarled. Mingi’s nostrils flared in anger as he stood nearly chest to chest with the ex prince.

“I didn’t say that! I’m saying you need to slow the fuck down and breathe for a bit. None of us have gotten anywhere like this. We’re tearing ourselves apart like this!” He hissed. Seonghwa grit his teeth, ice frosting over his fingers as he glared at him.

“None of this would even be happening if-” He stopped himself short, clenching his fists. Mingi glared at him.

“If what? If someone didn’t steal the staff? You keep bringing it up, you keep looking at me different than the others. You still think it’s me!”

Seonghwa lowered his gaze, but didn’t deny the accusation. Mingi clenched his fists so hard it hurt, before he raised his voice.

“I didn’t do it! How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t steal it?! Even if I did, do you think I wouldn’t have come clean by now?!”

“I never said you did steal it!” Seonghwa barked.

“You didn’t have to!”

The two of them began to argue and Jongho stood, letting out a sigh.

“Fuck this, we’re going for a walk.” He grumbled, sliding on a leather jacket. Yeosang watched him in concern before standing to retreat into the kitchen, five fox tails swaying behind him as he began cooking. Yunho sighed and laid on the floor out of the way. He was too tired for this today. Geb rumbled in silent agreement while Wooyoung shook in San’s grip.

“Cheese, c’mon boy.” Jongho beckoned and a black and tan Jindo ran up to him, nuzzling his thigh and letting him put a harness on before he walked out, slamming the door with a bit of force behind him.

Whiro rumbled in his head.

“You got the cloth for the dog, right?”

“Never leave home without it.” Jongho held out a small cloth, dangling it under Cheese’s nose. The dog was given to them by Hyuna as a search dog for Hongjoong. He was still young, but with a bit more training, Jongho was sure he’d be a good supernatural sniffing dog.

At least, he hoped he could sniff Hongjoong out before November. They were running out of time.

Seonghwa and Mingi continued arguing and the captain screamed from beyond the invisible walls, pounding on the wall desperately.

“What are you doing?! Stop it! Stop arguing!! Please!!!! Find him! Find me!”  He screams, watching Seonghwa and Mingi argue. San and Wooyoung are holding each other, eyes downcast. Yeosang is busying himself in the kitchen, distracting himself from the argument. Yunho is curled up on the floor, an arm over his eyes as he keeps himself from intervening.

Hongjoong felt his heart sink, biting his lip as he watched the men. The hand comes back, fingers wrapping around his ankle as she pulls him down like she’d done time and time before.

Deeper, deeper into the eighth sea, the sea of time itself.

Deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Hongjoong reaches out at the wall, tears rolling out of his eyes and washing away with the salt water.

“Please, don’t give up on me.”

-x-

-This sorrow weighs down on my shoulders

This fear is getting harder to hide

You’ll leave me alone in this darkness

Left to hold out

Against the tide-

-x-

Jongho sighs as he bundles up. It was March, so the chill of winter still clung to the air in South Korea. Whiro stretched across his skin under his jacket, providing an extra layer of insulation that none of the locals could see.

Amazing how close the two of them had become.

Cheese tugged at the leash, barking once before pulling him forward. Jongho blinked before jolting in surprise at how persistent the dog was.

“Cheese, what the hell-”

Cheese ignored his protests and pulled the Maori man into a crowd of people. He was about to scold him when he heard a voice.

His heart stopped.

“People want it

People dream about it

It can be different to every individual

It can complete us

Or it can destroy us

And it can change the world

People call it 'treasure'”

Jongho’s lips parted in surprise as he watched a man walk forward on a stage, his hair a sandy brown color in a mullet. He held a microphone to his lips as a few other people and even some kids moved around behind him. It seemed to be a street performance of some kind.

Jongho had his eyes focused on the small brunette the whole time.

“The sound of wind blowing from the horizon

The warmth of the sun hitting the ocean waves

The vibration of sand beating like the hearts of youth

We're at the starting point of this long journey”

“Holy fucking shit, kid.” Whiro’s voice snapped him back into focus as he tugged at his hand. “Get the phone, Jongho! Close your mouth and get the phone!”

Jongho shakily plucked his phone from his pocket and held it up, eyes wide as he recorded, nearly dropping it.

On the stage, the brunette dressed in modern clothing that was clearly supposed to resemble pirate attire, walked around the stage, smiling at some of the kids and some of the other five adults on stage.

“The freezing winds may make us shiver

The heat of the sun may make us thirsty

The vibrations of the sand may swallow us

But we'll never stop.”

The group grew closer to him, and Jongho watched a woman with feline features raise her microphone next, posing prettily.

“Gold~”

A man with piercings through his eyebrow and bottom lip put an arm on her shoulder, speaking into his own microphone.

“Eternal life~”

A blonde man with a distinct accent put an arm around the brunette’s shoulder, grinning at him before he winked at the crowd, sending them a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

“Honor~”

A slightly shorter man with a deeper voice wiggled under the blonde’s arm and grabbed his mic, his accent matching his as he chimed out his own line in a deep baritone.

“Love~”

A person with pink hair with yellow and blue chalk highlights eagerly bounded up behind them, all but throwing themselves onto the brunette’s back in the center, their long legs stretching outward.

“Fame!”

The six of them laughed before the brunette in the center held his microphone up to his lips.

“It doesn't matter what you dream for,

So let me ask you

What.is.your.treasure?” he extended a hand out and for the first time in centuries, as the sound of people clapping around him echoed through his ears, tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Hong...joong…?”

“Will you join us?”

------------Taglist-

@kimnamshiks​ @angel0taiyo​ @atiny-dazzlinglight​ @phasephoenix​ @eversionic​ @itsatinyworld​ @prettyjoongs​ @unatempesta-dipensieri​ @lonely10vely​ @yunhosblackgf​ @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ @moonmin-miya​ @girlcarma​ @kpopthingzsblog​ @delphinium3000​ @just-a-starfruit​ @mireyth​ @skmoonchild​ @queen-of-himbos​ @allthestarsrcloser​ @sneaky-ash​ @im-what-iam​ @thereal-smolchild​ @arohatiny​ @smallfrye​ @atinyteez​ @takitaro​ @hunnibxbe​ 

#fie writes #against the tide #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopuniversenet #atzinc #kconnet #AtT Ch.10 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ot8 #ateez ot8 #member x member #ateez ot8 fic #polyteez #hey look i posted and its not 3am look at that pls reblog if you like it thx ily

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter Seventeen

God, are you out there? Oh, right, that’s me.

Summary: Allanah connects you with Nathan, a man who might have the answers you seek, but will he be wiling to share that information with you?

A/N: I completely lost interest in this series, and had no real intentions of picking it back up because I didn't think anyone would actually care to read it. Its my least popular series after all. Then, recently, it started to gain a bit of traction, and i got a request to finish it. so I re-read what I've already posted and after cringing and laughing a bit at my past self, I started working on an ending to it. This is the start to that ending. Thank you to @hannahcoursey for the push to finish this. It definitely needed closure. This chapter is a bit slow paced, but only so that I could tie up some loose ends and get back into the groove of this series.

Warnings: cursing, some angst, much suspense,

W/C: 2.3k

Standing on the roof of a desolate parking garage as you wait for Dan, you’re safe from the worst of the storm for now. As the day fades into night, the waters start to calm and you keep your eyes on the streets that have turned to small rivers. With your arms bundled tightly against your wet body, your jaw chatters from the cold.

Everything up until this moment had been moving so fast. It had been one thing after another, not allowing you any time to think, let alone process any thoughts that did manage to slip through. And the ones that do sneak past your guards crush you. Back on Earth you reach out in your most desperate moments for a God that, should he exist, doesn’t know or care about your existence, much like you hadn’t known about the exist of those praying for your help.

Ignoring Sam and Allanah as they mumble behind you, you keep your attention on the mostly wiped out town, and you can’t help but to feel responsible for it all. You were the one to create it in the first place. How could you be so selfish as to create a world and neglect it for thousands of years?

Now, though, as you stand still, just waiting in the near silence, your mind roams to the darkest and apparently the loudest parts of these thoughts. They write themselves on your face, broadcasting to those around you just how destroyed you feel.

Sam removes his jacket, draping it around your shoulders and nods at his brother. Dean, now at your side, wraps his arm around you and you lean into him, accepting the embrace without removing your eyes from the damage that surrounds you. However, the more you think about the town’s ruination, the less of it you can see. Through blurred vision, you take your eyes off the town and turn to Dean.

He pulls you completely into him, staying silent as he wraps his arms tightly around you. The comfort he provides you with is all you needed in order to let go. Tears fall quietly as he rubs your back, cooing and shushing you. A third hand rubs a soft circle on your back and between your shoulder blades and you turn around to see Allanah. Standing behind her is Dan and Nathan. They talk amongst each other in hushed tones. After a short moment, they turn to face you, taking slow steps over.

”Allanah, good to see you,” he says with a nod. Your eyes squint as you look over at her tight smile, and you make a mental note to ask her how they knew each other prior to this wretched day if her instructions had been to not intervene. “Y/N, Sam, Dean, this is Nathan,” he says, palm up, gesturing to the old man. “Nathan, these are the people I was telling you about.”

Nathan nods somberly, and to your annoyance, speaks slowly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, taking in a deep and heavy breath as he glances around, “although unfortunate for the circumstances.” If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you might have missed his smirk. He looks at Dan, clearing his throat, “uh, Dan says you have some questions for me?”

You walk towards him, standing only a few feet away, “sorry to cut to the chase here, but I want to know what you meant when you told Tullie that ‘you never know who is listening’.”

His eyebrows furrow. You suppose Dan left that part out when talking with him prior. “How - how,” he starts looking over at Dan, then back at you, “how do you know about that? That was a private conversation.”

“These are the creators,” Allanah says softly, pointing at you and Dean before moving to stand by your side, “well, not exactly them per se, but their souls,” she sighs, “it’s a long story.”

You try your best to remain calm, but the more time that passes means the less time you have to save the people you came here for to begin with. A knot ties in your chest, and your heart thumps rapidly.

“Well, all right,” Nathan says slowly. “Look, I’m not sure what your intentions were in building or creating this world, but,” he sighs, shaking his head, “things haven’t gone right for a while. The separation between regions has become bloody, and that’s not even the worst of it. People in Ira are fighting for their lives. Their hospitals are overcrowded, and not equipped enough to handle what’s happening. Nor are the others!” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air.

Despite your reservations about the man, you can understand why he’s so frustrated. Before you knew this world existed you questioned whether or not God on Earth is real, and if he is, how could he let such horrible things happen? Has he forgotten about Earth the way you and Dean forgot about Teraw and the other regions? Or has he moved on all together, starting anew?

“By the sounds of it, they never were,” you sigh. “I’m very sorry for the state of this world, and I’m incredibly embarrassed that something I created has turned into a place that fosters such evil, but we don’t have time to be talking about the history of this hell like we’re at a fucking tea party,” you say, voice elevating. “If I had it my way, this whole world would never have been created in the first place, but past me was a selfish bitch, and I’m here to correct her wrongs. Luna, Ana, Tullie and two men are currently tied to chairs in Mr. Grant’s house, and we’re here talking formalities. In fact,” you say, “hours have already passed, so we may not even know where they are now,” the words scratch your throat on their way out.

“With all due respect, Nathan,” Allanah starts, “she has a point. Time is of the essence here,” she pleads, “at a later time I’m sure we’ll be able to discuss what needs fixing here, but our top priority needs to be finding them.”

“If it’s because you’re worried he’s going to hear you,” you say in a calmer voice, “it’s all over. It won’t even matter once I get my hands on him.”

“Fine,” Nathan sighs, “it’s not exactly a secret,” he scoffs. “I mean, half the town knows that he spies on us.”

“What do you mean by spying? Hidden cameras, recorders, people undercover, voodoo? I mean, what?” Dean impatiently spits, nearing your level of irritation.

“Spells,” he says, “location spells, peeping spells, the like.”

Sam’s eyes squint, ever the observant one, he says, “why are you so hesitant to share with us? What are you so afraid of?”

Nathan steps closer, “I have a family to protect!” He shouts.

“So do we!“ you say, matching the ferocity in his tone, “and we’re here to save them, and through that, we could save yours.”

He shakes his head, “you don’t know him like I do.”

“Enlighten us, then,” Dean shrugs.

”By doing so, I would be committing a crime comparable to no others,” he says, eyes focused on the ground, “I just can’t divulge any further information. I’m sorry,” he says, turning to walk away.

“What does he have on you?” Sam shouts after him.

“What does it matter?” You glare. “Do you know where he lives, Nathan?” You ask.

He turns to face you, and you notice the hesitation on his face. Asking again, more aggressively, he nods.

“Take us there,” you say, taking a step only to be stopped by Dean throwing his arm in front of you.

“Y/N, wait,” he interjects, gripping onto your arm. “He saw us there, he’ll know we’re coming. We need to be smart about this, come up with a plan,” he says in a low whisper.

“That’s the only advantage he has,“ you frown, “since we have been there, we’ll know where to hide until we’re ready to attack. Then, once we have them, we’ll be able to take him down from there. Sounds like a fine plan to me,” you shrug.

Allanah steps in, her hand resting gently on your shoulder, “I’m afraid Dean is right.” She turns her body towards you, gesturing towards the ledge to step away from the group, “a moment, please.”

Following her over, you fold your arms in front of you. With soft eyes, and a soft smile, Allanah sets her hand on your forearm. “Y/N, I hate to sound blunt here, but you’re acting a bit like your late partner.”

Your eyes widen at the comparison, and you drop your arms to your side, “what?”

“You’re bloodthirsty and I completely understand why, but it’s blinding you. We all want nothing more than to save them, but this abrasive and zealous nature you’ve taken on is likely to get us all killed if you don’t take a step back and realize that.”

Rolling your eyes, you look away to glance at the purple sky, remembering the night for what seems like the millionth time. You remember the way you pleaded with Jolie to wait until you had more people, a better plan, but her desire to gain revenge in the name of her son is what took her life. You want to hate Allanah for speaking truth, for reminding you yet again of such a painful memory, but you can only blame yourself for letting this get the better of you.

Witch a sigh, you relax your body, “fine. You’re right,” you concede.

“I know,” she smiles somberly, her hand finding its way back onto your arm. “Listen, we’re going to get them back safe, I promise you that. But to be honest, I think it’s time to reunite them with our world,” she says. “It’s ultimately a decision for you and Dean to make, but I believe that it’s time to bring this world to its end. It was created in vein, and I empathize with your mindset at the time of creation, however due to these circumstances, I’m afraid the foundation is rocky, and these things, no matter who is here, will keep happening until we put a stop to it for good.”

Pausing for a moment, you soak in this information, “how do we do that?” You ask.

"I'm not sure, yet," she says, letting her eyes fall to the concrete you stand on. "I'd have to think back on what you two did to create it and try to reverse that somehow, but with no powers here, I'm afraid that's going to be easier said than done."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you look around at the falling sky and swimming infrastructure. Shaking your head, you look back at Allanah, “I can’t give up on this place. Not like Earth’s God did,” you sigh. “In a last ditch effort to save lives,” you say, tilting your head, “I’ll entertain the idea, but for now… I have to try and do right by the people here and fix what I started.”

Allanah nods, “I understand,“ she says with a smile. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

After a brief moment of thought, you question the events leading up to this moment, much like you had earlier, and before you could stop it, you blurt out, “can I ask you something?”

Allanah nods, “anything.”

"Why did you take me from my family?" you utter, grateful for the cutting wind that prevents the tears from falling.

She sighs, “honey, I never wanted to come clean about this as to not taint your view of your father, but,” she sighs again, “Mary wasn’t the only one in the Winchester’s circle to make a deal with Yellow Eyes. Your father, he,” she pauses, looking away, “he couldn’t have known what was to come. You know how sly and manipulative demons can be, and Yellow Eyes,” she shakes her head, her eyes meeting back with yours, “he was by far the worst I’d encountered. I had already begun my operation to build a coven, and despite what you may think I never took children from the clutches of loving families, but rather, like in your case, saved them from evil. Soon after your birth, he kidnapped you, and once I caught wind of it, I’d already begun to gain memories of this world. I absolutely knew I had to save you. It cost me a great deal of trouble, but I would stop at nothing in order to keep you safe.”

You scoff, crossing your arms, “if that were true, why were you so vicious when you had me? The memories you forced me to see all over again, the way you talked about the Winchester’s. You made me question my entire life,” you spit.

In an effort to gain control of the conversation, Allanah steps closer to you, “I know it’s unforgivable, but I needed to make sure you would stay away from him until we were ready. It was absolutely the wrong way to go about it, and I understand that now, but I was trying to make sure you remembered your powers, how to access them.”

“You had me shaking in anger! What would you have done if I killed him?” You shout, never minding how the guys look over in worry.

Allanah, however, does notice, and smiles at them before lowering her tone to a soft whisper, “I knew you wouldn’t. The bond you two share, as you know, goes beyond and deeper than a single lifetime. But, if it had gotten to that point, I’d have intervened.”

The lies are endless, and right now, you can’t even bare to look at her. Glancing back at the others, you’re immediately distracted by the disappearance of Nathan and Dan. “Hey!” you shout at Dean, “where the hell did he go?”

Dean shrugs as you storm over, “I tried to stop them,” he says breathlessly, “before I could get my hands on him, the bastard zapped outta here.”

“Shit,” you harshly whisper, throwing your hands onto your face, and pressing firmly as you bring them down your chin.

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