#Elderberry was too good for this world. This is what happens to good things when you dont protect them

[bonefall]

Ferncloud and Ashpaw kill Fury?!?

I think one of the best parts about running this blog is when one of the WIP reworks gets a fresh update and everyone's worried they missed something like "WAIT HANGON, BINGLECLAW NEW WAR CRIME??"

Yes though! Bingleclaw new war crime! Ferncloud and Ashpaw attacked and killed Fury after she worked with Willowpelt to sabotauge a boar hunt in an attempt to kill her political rival, Claw. Elderberry died saving Fury from her own botched assassination attempt, and in revenge, Ferncloud undid her sister's sacrifice by burying her in the same grave.

Ferncloud's Parting Patch 1.3 Notes: Girlie moment added

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 1 (Saudade)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gun-play, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Jay-Jay Johanson - Smoke

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

The crimson sun was hiding behind the horizon, the orange sky was clear of clouds, and a light mist filled the cool, crisp afternoon air. The ground was covered with a blanket of colors, the barbecue-red leaves hanging silently on the trees surrounding the old mansion. The muffled winds deadened all sound in the forest, slowing the bellow bells of nocturnal animals like forgotten laughters slobbering beneath elderberries. There was still some fire in the oak leaves, but only barely. Noosed by coils of dragon breath, fog-tinted fairy trees stood alone in fields.

Weak pitter-patters could be heard, but they weren't for the rain. Someone was walking up the stairs. All alone on the rooftop was a man with eyes as gloomy as the sky, filled with damnation and saudade. The cataclysm was coming, he knew.

The breeze tousled his blonde hair, coercing his body forward as if urging him to jump, to take the leap and plunge to his death.

You won't regret it.

The intrusive thought lingered on the tip of his fuming cigarette as he tapped the ashes down.

He didn't know what was happening to him. There was something—a feeling—simmering inside of him. Something he didn't dare to approach, something he didn't want to acknowledge. Banging on the doors of his heart, begging to be let out, it clawed at the cage he had trapped it in.

Every day.

Every fucking day felt like reliving the same nightmare. Falling apart, he would open his mouth to shout, fight, and swing his fists, but his vocal cords were cut, and his shoulders were heavy and weighed down by his sins. He was caught, and it was killing him.

Maybe there was no hope for him anymore.

He was tired. He was tired. He was tired. He was tired. He was tired. He was tired. He was tired. So tired and angry.

Staring at his feet, hands, and this thin rooftop ledge, he wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to fall to his knees. He wanted to curse the world for cursing him, torturing him, and taking away the only good thing he ever had. 

For quite some time now, he'd accepted that the only way out of this sleepless nightmare was to take a step forward. It would only take one more step for all problems to be solved. That was all. Yet somehow, he felt like crashing into rough stone pavement would not leave a pleasant sight, to say the least. Also, what if he didn't die right away? What if he miraculously survived the fall and was forced to lie there, bloodied and broken, waiting for his body to give out finally? Or what if his body refused to give out, and he had to live the rest of his life as a plant?

All regrettable.

Staring far away, he stroked the glowing stick with his thumb. The warmth in the air during the last month had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth. Well. It wasn't just the weather. There had been a lot of change since last month. He had lost a lot. A few pairs of clothes, a bottle of Bride wine, and some blue pockets of Skulls cigarettes were all he had now—his beloved's heritage.

His hands trembled slightly, followed by lips pressing together. Closed his eyes, he breathed in the scent of soil and dew, hoping to swallow down the vicious lump forming in his throat.

Stop thinking about him, Vash.

But the smoke of this cigar was all he needed to get transported back to when Nico was still breathing and smiling with a stupid strawberry lollipop stuck in his mouth. Huh! If Nic saw him smoking, what would he say? Especially since he was a pain in the black-haired man's ass to quit smoking.

So eager to die, Needle Noggin? Y'know there are faster ways. C'mon, take a step and meet me in hell. Easy peasy. Don't you miss me?

With a hint of a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a blank stare seeped into his face like a vat of acid. Raising his hand, he slipped the cigarette between his soft lips, longing for the lost bittersweet kisses.

His whiskey brown eyes, peeking at him with the sunrise. His blessed smiles, gifting him butterflies. His smooth skin, touching his body like a sin. His cinnamon smell, filling his nostrils well. His big feet, touching him under the sheet. His warm hands, conquering his body's lands. His pounding heart, feeling like a fine art. His endless desire, burning him like a wildfire. His tender touch, feeling like a fine Scotch. His cocky smirk, making him the biggest jerk. His rigid muscles, giving him rough hustles. His soft hair, becoming his fingers' lair. His overwhelmed sweats, pounding him for sets. His shy groans, getting lost in his loud moans. His spit on his hole, kisses around his mole. His throbbing length, taking away his strength. His whispers in his ear, shooing away his fear. His peace in his arms, pushing away all of the harms. His never-ending need, revealing his hidden deed. His endless meekness, turning into his greatest weakness. His prayer as a song, driving away every wrong. His peaceful dreams, hiding his painful screams. His contagious laughter, calling down every disaster. His goofy attitude, giving him latitude. His eye-blinding light, forcing his soul to ignite.

The tip of the cig was glowing, smoke getting in his eyes, but he couldn't care less. Having Nic's scent faded from his clothes, this coffin nail was all left to feel him around.

Fuck!

He swallowed down what he knew would kill him, but wasn't this a part of the torture of being left on earth when another was gone?

In this steady thrum that accompanied quiet, his mind was unkind to him. He thought too much. He felt, perhaps, far more than he should. To push these memories away, he clenched his fists until he felt pain. There was no point in remembering. He didn't want to think about those things anymore. He wanted to outrun his mind, his memories.

It was like his face was pressed up against a glass, watching a scene from far off, wishing and wanting to be a part of something he knew he'd never be able to experience again. He forgot sometimes, that there were people out there who still managed to smile every day, despite everything. Who knows, maybe they hadn't lost their anchor yet.

Sucking in a rush of air, he brought his hand to the base of his throat. It wasn't gloom at all in his expression. It was despair. It was the agony.

This must be what they meant by misery. He thought he was familiar with it. He thought he knew, with perfect clarity, what it felt like to be in pain, but now he finally understood.

Everything that happened before was child's play.

But this. This was suffering. This was pure, unadulterated torture. It felt like a truck had run over him, breaking every bone in his chest, and now he was stuck here, the weight of losing Nicholas crushing his lungs. Luckily, he knew who was to blame, which thrilled him to have a target to direct his anger.

He took a step back. It wasn't the right time to act all crazy. Not now. Not until he avenged his Nick's murder.

Taking a long drag, he gambled with the hope of getting numb as his shining gloomy eyes watched the fumes slowly drifting away, leaving a cloud of gray.

He was snapped out of his musings when he heard a throat clear.

"Boss?"

Ah! This voice. Vash didn't need to turn his head to recognize the man whose mere existence was enough to drain every last ounce of will to live from him. The brown nose of his brother, Legato Blusummers. He and his light blue, thinning hair matted on his forehead from sweat with a silver-colored shirt too loose on him.

Legato's eyes bounced between Vash and the edge of the rooftop he was standing on, emanating nervous energy yet with a disgusting type of delight. As far as this sewer rat was concerned, only one thing was standing between him and earning some value in the eyes of his master: this blond man, the little brother of Knives.

How pitiful.

Vash let out a sigh, not bothering to move, and let Legato be joyous with the thought of his brain splashing on the ground as he fell. After all, even this pathetic creature deserved a little pleasure in his miserable existence, didn't he?

The smoke burning its way out from his throat to his nostrils forced him to reconsider his choices.

As a kid, Rem forbade him from going near the ledge. It was, however, his favorite spot in the manor. The view was breathtaking, especially when the sun was about to set, and crows flew by the clouds. Soon, he recalled how he and Nic would sit here and drink whiskey on starry nights. Funny how motherfucker used to light a cigarette with another as if his life depended on it, only to make the sheets smell like ashtrays.

Well. Not anymore.

Dark shadows were casting over this lonely piece of land. He was standing one foot away from danger, life, and death, separated by a cemented ledge. Soon, it would disappear in the darkness of the night, and if he weren't careful, he would too.

Vash glanced over his shoulder at the man before the roof entrance. Seeing his expression through the smoke was hard, but Legato notched the disgust. "My household is off-limits to you," he seethed his teeth. "Scram, runt! Or I'm gonna knock you off the edge," he spoke in a cold, indifferent tone, even though he knew this would probably be a favor to this varmint.

Legato cowered a step back. His experience around the twins had taught him that they would never make empty promises, but he was ordered here to fulfill a purpose. He was a messenger. "Are you okay, Vash-sama?" Legato blurted out the words almost quietly. "You're still wearing black."

The last rays of the sun were setting in Vash's small golden earring, only to be absorbed by the tattoos adorning his neck. The corners of his mouth curled in distaste as he blew a puff of smoke out of his nose. A predatory gleam glinted in his eyes, a wicked smirk on his lips.

"No way!" he scorned. "You've got eyes like an eagle."

Irked by how this lowly human was taking his time, he patiently folded up his sleeves, cracking his neck in the meantime. "What is it? Need something from me?" he grumbled, growing increasingly annoyed. "Spit it out."

"I've got good news for you," Legato responded shortly, so sure and full of himself.

An expression of confusion washed over Vash's face for a moment, then a look of apathy replaced it. "If this is some foolish attempt at getting my attention, then I'd suggest you cut it out right now, boy," he said, releasing a tired sigh. "And don't get it twisted. I'm in no way interested in your news."

The breeze blew hard, swirling around them and stirring up their hair. Ashes flew with the wind, his seafoam eyes watching their successful escape. How lucky. A few locks of his hair fell over his eyes, and he flicked them away, taking a final inhale from his cigarette before crushing it with the sole of his boot.

Why was this dimwit still here? He needed to learn his place, and soon. Because the longer this went on, the more likely it was for Vash to have to "teach" him a lesson with the back of his hand.

The thoughts of finger-cutting and nail-pulling were almost causing his fists to ball up, but he took a deep breath and held it, counting to ten to clear his mind. He was so damn tired to deal with Legato right now. He could swear that if the man had a brain, it'd have left through the moron's ear by now. Ugh.

Seeing Legato trying to speak again, he put a hand up to silence him. "And now you're starting to bore—"

"The cargo is here," Legato said. "The one you told your men to bring."

Vash's heart stopped for five seconds before kicking into high gear and climbing up his throat. A flock of pigeons nearby were sent flying when he turned and unsheathed his signature .45 Long Colt so fast. The gun was aimed at Bluesummers, his forefinger on the trigger.

Looking around, it took Legato a moment to process the scene before him, and when he did, his golden-brown eyes widened into saucers. Seeing the intensity in Vash's eyes, he immediately halted and put up his hands, hoping to show his surrender and prevent him from making impulsive decisions. What else did he expect when he revealed something he shouldn't have known? "S-Sir," he muttered, his body trembling, his fingers digging into his palms.

With his gun still pointed at the scared man's head, Vash walked closer to him until he was just a few inches away. He grabbed him by the collar and raised the jacket right next to his throat, sneering down at him. "HOW DID YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THIS? WHO TOLD YOU?" he demanded, his voice dripping with anger as he took another step toward Legato and got right up in his face. "Who do you think you're spying on me?" He gritted his teeth.

Legato looked at him, his heart lodging in his throat when he saw Vash cocked the hammer on his gun, a clear indication that he meant serious business right now. At this moment, all he felt was terror. "N-n-no," he hardly mumbled. "Master Knives…He ordered me to inform you."

"WHAT?" Vash's pulse raced, and he breathed heavily, almost as if he were about to burst.

The poor man's shoulders were shaking. "Master took the cargo in before your men since he cared for your wellbeing. He said he would gift wrap it to surprise—" He didn't dare to look the Don in the eye. His face was white with fear, his hands trembling visibly, attempting to cover his face with them. It was clear that he was utterly terrified of Vash. And with good reason, too. It was well-known what this spiky-haired man could do when he was mad.

"I don't give a damn what my brother said!" Vash snapped, each word filled with rage and venom. He placed the tip of the gun against Legato's chin. "How this happened?" His muscles tensed, and he cracked his knuckles, his blood boiling. Money-hungry mercenaries. Indeed his brother had filled their pockets as their scales had leaned toward the heavier side.

This didn't come as a surprise. A million reasons made him hate Kni, but the cherry on top was when Nicholas D. Wolfwood was murdered. It had been more than four weeks since they found out about it. Both knew the culprit. Gasback's men killed Nick for crossing some lines he wasn't supposed to, and not only did they not return his body to be buried, but they kept all of his belongings, even his glasses and fucking lighter.

He wasn't allowed to lay a finger on Gasback since the war between the two Mafia families would weaken both of them against their rivals. And certainly, Kni wasn't willing to take such a risk just because someone had taken away his little brother's favorite doll. Fucker!

He probably would have spilled his twin's blood if they weren't brothers, but when you're stuck in the mud, family, and blood relatives are all you have.

Of course, Vash had no intention of stepping back. Despite unwritten rules prohibiting him from skinning Gasback alive and playing with his bones until he begged to die, no button man had ever followed them. That dirty thief would pay for what he'd taken away from him, so he definitely needed this cargo safe and untouched.

What a pain! This whole situation appeared to require his own ways. Crossing him had to be punished, but this was a problem for another to solve. Seeing Legato's lips move, his eyes narrowed.

"Bitch was walking toward her car in the parking—"

Legato's sentence was interrupted by a fist landing on his mouth, causing him to stumble a few steps back. "Call my cargo that again and you won't live long enough to take another breath!" He fought back the urge to pull the trigger and rip this man to shreds right here and now. "You would do well to watch your tongue in my presence," he growled at him. Somehow scaring the shit out of this man was bringing some kind of peace to him.

Because here, in the dark corners of his mind, he felt a strange relief. He was always welcome here, in his loneliness, in his sadness. In this abyss, there was a rhythm he remembered. This is what anguish does to some people. When others suffer too, they don't feel alone - Vash's new philosophy.

He guessed he had been this way all along, because you can't just grow up with Kni and not find pleasure in tormenting others. Good thing they were living in separate wings of the mansion now and only met each other to finish dirty work. Better this way. However, it shouldn't be misunderstood. There was no good or bad between the Saverem twins. They were like solar and lunar eclipses. Neither brought light, only darkness.

Legato watched as Vash closed the gap between them, his nose bleeding on his pale lips. The gunman's grip was tightened on the pistol, a snarl on his face, his eyes stabbing daggers.

Vash stood too close to him, breathing down into his ear. He placed a hand on the bleeding man's shoulder, the other pressing the nuzzle of his colt on the spot his little dick must be hiding. "Where is the girl?" he hissed in a low voice. "Tell. Me. Now." He shoved Legato to the ground, making this waste of space kneel before him.

"Master keeps her in the dungeon," Legato responded, gasping as if someone had strangled his throat.

Vash paused momentarily, but those words set him off like a bomb. Having been in that dungeon before, he knew what it meant. Growling in rage, he kicked Legato in the face with his knee. Then he lowered his face to his greasy hair, a sinister smirk appearing on his lips. "You're lucky it's not a bullet going inside that hollow head of yours, runt!" His back straightened as he landed another kick in the crotch.

White, hot rage.

It was all he knew now. From where he stood, the world seemed so black and white, so easy to demolish and destroy. This new anger. It was so raw, so potent, actually calming as if that wild feeling had finally found its place. Having stopped ripping out his gut, the monster in him sat comfortably in his bones, a powerful desire that he thought might consume him.

He was a monster.

He could do anything.

Anything.

And first things first, he was going to accept his dear brother's invitation. It would be rude not to attend the party, wouldn't it? He had to visit Kni personally and express his gratitude. It may be the time for Kni to learn the lesson he failed to grasp the first time.

Do. Not. Touch. My. Stuff.

This girl was his. She belonged to him. Skin to the bone, his revenge leverage, and no one else would get their hands on his toy. No one. This time, Kni and his goons made a grave mistake.

Turning back the gun in its holster, Vash approached the door, making his way to the dungeon—the playroom.

p.s: I hope you liked the first chapter. If you want to be on the tag list, please leave a comment.

[evaemiel]

The Kid

We sit high up in an elderberry bush, its trunk so thick it rivals many of the surrounding trees. Its clustered flowers make it look like we’re floating on a fluffy, creamy cloud. It’s peaceful up here. 

Away from the ground is safer, somehow.

For a long time, we just gaze up at the sky and imagine what it’s like up. What it would feel like to fly. 

Going somewhere far away. That must be nice.

Then you take my hand, and we’re off to our hideout between the bay trees and rhododendrons. The soil is always moist here but that doesn’t matter for real explorers of nature like us. We crouch down and watch some nearby birds intently, making sure they never spot us. 

Staying hidden is safer. Keeping secrets is how you survive.

We play a game where we’re in a secret magic society that obviously has to save the world, but we agree that’s like a “long-term goal.” We mostly need to do very secretive cool things and baffle anyone with our cleverness and sorcery. It involves complicated spells and rituals around an old tree trunk.  We also need to dress up as princesses; of course, there’s nothing better than flowy gowns and flower crowns. 

This world should be full of magic. Why isn’t it?

I braid your hair and decorate it with daisies. You give me a necklace made of long willow twigs. We huddle in the tent and draw intricate pictures of beautiful, adventurous ladies, one drawing scribbled over another, all in ballpoint pen. It’s a jumble of lines when we’re done — another secret only we can unravel. Stories that no one will ever know about.

You can only entrust yourself with the truth. And the darkness.

We play hide and seek; we run and laugh; we bike; we pet the animals at the nearby farm. We bask in the sun, but never long; there’s always something else to do, something else to see, somewhere else to be. Like in the ditch near the road! There’s so many wildflowers there, we pick a bouquet to take home.

If only we could go and discover the world without fear. There’s so much to see and learn.

Some afternoons should go on forever, and in my mind they do. But even the power of imagination can’t stop the real world from turning, so I’m forced to go back to my wanderings eventually. 

I hear someone call for dinner, so it’s best you go now. You say you don’t want to, but your growling tummy betrays you. You demand I stay longer; we could play more? I sadly shake my head and give you a long hug. I do need to tell you something before I go. 

Not about the future. I know you have a million questions, but my answers won’t do you any good. You seem to understand. We’ve always had a good sense of what should remain unknowable. Mystery is important for a good story, after all.

So instead, I say that you should heed the warnings of the Ghosts, just as the Dreamer is the closest thing to an oracle you will ever meet, fortune tellers be damned. And the Artist is your friend; never forget! There’s going to be others too, but don’t worry about that; I’ll take care of them. Just like I will take care of you.

I guess that’s what I came here to say today. In this idyllic memory turned fantasy.  You no longer need to protect yourself from the world by hiding away. Everything you are, everything I was, and still am, I can hold that for us both now.  It’s weird to become an adult. Really weird, but also comforting. 

In a year, I’m going to be the same age our mother was when she had us. I have no idea how this happened, yet inside, it feels like I was supposed to be this age all along. Like I finally belong, like we finally belong. We’ve been 40 years old since the beginning.

You laugh as if I just told the world’s greatest joke. We hug again, you peck a kiss on my cheek, then you turn and run towards the old caravan. You stop to wave at me at least three times before you finally disappear from view. That stuff really runs in the family.

I blink away some tears and step out into the oncoming dusk. Someone else is calling me home.

[queerderpyturtle]

some old rambles about discord and starswirl that I dug up

I been thinkin. Bout Discord and Starswirl. And how they probably knew each other. And what their relationship could've been. And what that means for the rest of their arcs in the show.

From what we know (and what I remember) Discord came into power after Starswirl and the pillars were sent to Limbo, but Celestia and Luna started ruling Equestria sometime between those two events, because they were too young to remember or care about the other pillars, but they banished Discord.

We don't know a lot about Discord's past, but I imagine that when he first came to Equestria (at which point I assume he was fairly young by draconequus standards), he wasn't exactly given a warm welcome. Ponies were probably absolutely terrified of this horse-headed, bat-winged, lion-pawed, snake-tailed freak of nature, and there's a good chance they would've driven him out of town full force. His first taste of ponykind was rejection.

So, later, he tries again. He makes himself a pony disguise-- a handsome unicorn stallion named Atlas-- and sets off to learn more about Equestria. And it works! He's able to make friends, live amongst ponies, and study Equestria magic. He actually gets pretty good at doing through his unicorn horn, so much so that he manages to get into a prestigious magic school for gifted unicorns. "Atlas" is of course still a troublemaker, though. He pulls pranks, annoys his teachers, breaks the rules, and just generally has no respect for authority. And why should he? The entire society that Equestria is built on is corrupt beyond all belief, stuck in its ways, and downright hostile towards any creature outside of it. They didn't deserve his damn respect. Equestria itself was fairly new as well, and the ponies themselves were still getting used to each other. It was all one giant powderkeg, and Atlas was honestly excited to see what would happen when it went off. So he stuck around, if only to cause more chaos in this personal playpen country of his. If he wasn't the best student in all of his classes, his teachers probably would've strangled him after a day.

And then one day, he found himself in a class with the famous Odin Starswirl, a magically gifted unicorn with a penchant for proving others wrong and keeping a clear head while doing it. He was proper, eloquent, studious, respectable-- a perfect pony for Atlas to torment. Except it turns out that Odin is ridiculously, insufferably hard to annoy. When Atlas knocked over his books, or spilled water on his cloak, or made fun of his sloppy hornwriting, Odin simply responded with a sigh and a quick cantrip to fix whatever the stallion had ruined with his antics. This did not please Atlas at all. He spent more time hanging around Odin than he did hanging out with his more troublesome buddies, just to try and get a rise out of him. But he never could. If anything, they were becoming... friends. Atlas's biting remarks turned into light-hearted jabs and playful scoldings.

"Odin, for heaven's sake, if you don't take a break from studying to shave for once in your damn life, I'm going to have to start calling you Starswirl the Bearded!"

His destruction of property turned into casual acts of kindness.

"Yes, I brought your saddlebag. I knew you'd forget it, you scatterbrain. We're lucky you even remember to eat."

His contempt for Odin's huffy nature turned into giving the unicorn an easy out for boring social events hosted by his equally uppity parents.

"C'mon, Stars, let's get out of here. I know a place nearby that sells elderberry tea."

"You know I can't leave. This is an important party."

"Important to whom, exactly, my dear?"

"To my parents!"

"Your parents. Well, last time I checked, they weren't you."

"...Fine. Thirty minutes, and then you're bringing me back."

Before long, Odin was regularly sneaking off to join Atlas and his friends on their escapades. He found himself strangely drawn to the unicorn, in spite of-- or maybe because of his rebellious and carefree nature. He was so different from the ponies Odin was used to, so sure of himself, so headstrong. Odin would be a fool to say he wasn't slowly getting attached to the scoundrel.

Atlas noticed this, of course. He was honestly surprised! Who knew a straight-edged young scholar like Odin would be so willing to stray from the path of monotony? And that was all Atlas wanted. To cause a little chaos in Odin's life. It wasn't as if there were moments in which he looked at the unicorn and considered giving up his whole scheme to enjoy a happy life alongside his... friend? Companion? Fellow associate? Lord, what even where they? Atlas had never really had a friend that was interested in any part of him other than the chaotic part, and Discord hadn't had any friends at all. He took a leap of faith one day to ask Odin if they were, in fact, friends, and Odin responded with an aloof "Yes, I do believe so." And that was that, wasn't it? He had a friend. A real friend.

Over the next few years, Odin and Atlas became inseparable. It was a thing to see, the two of them trotting down the streets of Canterlot together. They couldn't have been more different, from the way they walked to the way they spoke, but they were as close as ponies could get. Odin gave Atlas a safe place to practice magic, study Equestrian history, and discuss the library's old scrolls and texts from ancient unicorns. Atlas gave Odin an out from his mundane life as a trophy child of the wealthy Starswirl family. When Odin started tutoring two unicorn fillies with promising skills in arcane magics, Atlas was the first of Odin's friends he introduced them to (the fillies lovingly started referring to the stallions as their honorary uncles). When Atlas accidentally used too much sticking potion in a prank and stuck one of his teachers to the side of the school for three days, Odin helped him sneak into the Starswirl mansion to hide, scolding him between laughs the whole way. They each saw more in each other than the average pony could ever see; Odin was more than a prodigy, and Atlas was more than an annoyance.

And if there were, perhaps, by some miracle, some hint of... romance beneath their friendship that neither side would admit to, well. That was their own business. If they enjoyed cuddling up on the couch to read from the same book, nopony needed to know. If they relished each "accidental" brush of hooves or tails when they walked together, nopony would be any the wiser. If Odin longed for the day when Atlas would use those strong forearms of his to pin the stallion against the nearest wall and just kiss him already, and felt more alive than he'd ever felt in his life when Atlas finally did...

Then maybe that was just fine. And for a while, it was. But there was always that itch at the back of Atlas's mind, that knowledge that their relationship was fleeting, because it was all, in truth, based on a lie. If Odin found out who Atlas really was, what Atlas really was, it would all crumble to pieces like a biscuit that had been left out in the sun. Atlas... no, Discord hated that the thought of losing Odin-- a simple pony whose life was a speck of dust in his immortal existence, who would be a pile of ashes in the ground before Discord had even had his second molt-- made him so unreasonably upset. He'd known going into this that becoming invested in the lives of the ponies in Equestria was foolish. He'd never meant for it to get this far. He'd come here to futz with the government a bit, maybe start a few riots or terrorize a few queens. He never wanted to find Odin. So why wasn't he willing to let him go?

Shit, he really was in too deep.

And yet, Atlas and Odin found themselves ever-so-slowly, but ever-so-surely falling in love.

But nothing gold can stay.

Odin had always known Atlas was a bit of an anarchist. It was one of the things he admired about the stallion-- his ability to let go of the norms that Equestria had built for itself and be his own pony. The problem was that Atlas seemed to have a problem with how Equestria treated creatures who weren't ponies. Griffons, yaks, kirin, and the like. Equestria had never been a big trading country, or a big socializing-with-other-nations country. They kept to themselves. Of course, this meant that xenophobia was rampant, and that the fear of the outside world was instilled into the hearts of almost every pony there. But why should Atlas care so much?

Odin asked him as much when the two stallions were studying together in Odin's room, and Atlas became noticeably more tense. He gave Odin a simple "I just think it's wrong," hoping to avoid the subject, but Odin pressed him for more details. Sure, Equestria was problematic, but all in all, it was a good country. Was there really anything so bad about wanting to keep it the way it was? Atlas tried to keep himself from snapping, tried to keep himself from saying something he'd regret, but hearing these things from a pony he loved hurt him deeply.

"It's not about tradition or preservation, Odin. It's about the fact that Equstria has never been willing to change. Before the unifications of the species, it was conflict between the pony species. After, it was conflict between the classes. Now, it's conflict between countries. Just because the problems are external doesn't mean they aren't there," Atlas told him.

"But it isn't exactly a pressing matter. It hardly effects us at all. I guess I just don't understand," Odin replied.

"Of course you don't."

It was said so quietly that Odin couldn't quite tell if he'd been meant to hear it, yet with such venom that he couldn't ignore it. He chanced a confused look and a "What?"

Atlas stood. "Of course you don't," he repeated. "You're the perfect example of a high-class, magically advanced, want-for-nothing unicorn pony. You're perfectly content to live in your little bubble of mediocrity, never trying to do anything to change the world around you. You think there's nothing you can do to help others, so you don't even try. You think they'll sort themselves out. You're complacent, Odin. You've always been."

"Complacent! And just what is wrong with that? I'm doing my best in my own life and I have no responsibility to try and fix the lives of others! Is it so wrong to focus on myself?"

"Of course not! But you can't just pretend that you're the only one with problems! I see it every day, Odin. You act like you're on top of the world, like you're above feeling sorry for others. You don't even care about them. About me!"

Odin looked hurt. "Atlas, I-- of course I care about you! You mean everything to me!"

"And just how much would it take to change that? Telling you my real name isn't Atlas? Telling you I'm not from Equestria? Telling you I look like this?!"

In a flash, Atlas removed all the disguise spells he had on himself, leaving him-- Discord-- in his true form. A long, sleek body covered in brown fur. The misshapen head of a goat, framed by a shaggy black mane and two short horns. Wings, legs, and a tail that had all been taken from different animals, stuck together like a gruesome collage. Odin's eyes trailed up the creature's body slowly, trying and failing to comprehend what he was seeing. He began to back up.

Discord could feel each step he took like knives driving into his heart. Odin was afraid.

The draconequus scoffed. "You're all the same."

"A-Atlas, I..."

"Discord. My name is Discord. I am a draconequus from the tribe of the western Badlands, sent to Equestria to study its magic. When I first came here, I was avoided like the plague. Ponies wanted nothing to do with me. They saw what they were told to see in me-- a monster. A hideous, murderous, blood-thirsty monster. They threw me out because I was different."

Odin was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled. "I think I n-need some time to... to process all of this. Alone."

Discord couldn't have stopped the pain he felt from showing on his face if he'd somehow managed to summon all the magic on the planet. He gritted his teeth, blinked back tears, and disappeared in a shower of sparks.

It was the last conversation he would have with Odin for a millennium.

That night, Odin lay in bed, his mind racing, working overtime to try and figure out what in Tartarus had just happened. Firstly, he and Atlas had just had their first real lovers' spat. Except that those typically didn't lead to one of the ponies involved revealing that he was a creature from a faraway land, but whatever. Secondly, "Atlas" was a draconequus named Discord. That would take some getting used to, of course, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Thirdly, Atlas-- who was actually Discord-- had stormed out in a huff without saying goodbye. Well, that's just how things were sometimes. Nothing to lose sleep over.

When he awoke the next morning, the first though this mind supplied him with was, "Oh sweet merciful heavens I've ruined everything." He rushed to school early, hoping to find his friend (Boyfriend? Lover? Shit, I love him and I just cast him out like an old dish towel), but the stallion was nowhere in sight. Odin asked around, tried everything to get into contact with Atlas/Discord, but nothing came up. He had disappeared off the face of the planet.

Instead of dealing with all the emotional turmoil that came with that situation, Odin threw himself into his studies. His magic grew stronger and stronger, fueled by rage and pain and sadness. He pushed Celestia and Luna to become powerful sorcerers like himself, pouring every hour that he didn't spend practicing magic himself into teaching them. He tried to forget about Discord entirely, and move on. He didn't need some handsome bad-boy keeping him sane to be successful. He only needed himself. That was all he would ever need. Odin was gone. There was only the great and honorable Starswirl the Bearded.

When the sirens invaded Equestria, he agreed to help defeat them. When Stygian came to him looking for friendship that Starswirl hadn't even offered to the other "pillars," he turned him away coldly. When he realized the only way to defeat the Pony of Shadows was by sending the seven of them into limbo, he refused, at least at first. But the citizens of Equestria persisted. He was the great Starswirl, he had a duty to protect them and keep Equestria safe. He tried to tell them that the consequences of the spell were too drastic, but they would not listen. Starswirl had no choice but to go through with it.

Discord, meanwhile, had been staying on the outskirts of Equestria, brooding and cursing Odin's name. When he found out that Odin had vanished, however, and the circumstances of his disappearance... well, he wasn't happy. Despite everything, he still loved the idiot, and he had never wanted something so terrible to happen to him. Odin would have never agreed to something like that without being pushed by the Equestrian citizens. What right did they have to decide who lived and who died? Why did they get to sacrifice their most beloved sorcerer for their own safety when there were other options? Was this the price they paid for harmony?

That wouldn't do. That simply wouldn't do at all. If these pitiful excuses for equines thought the pony of shadows was a threat to their delicate balance, he would show them true chaos. He dethroned the country's leader, took over, and made the ponies of Equestria suffer like he did.

And then Celestia and Luna came along. When had they gotten so big? So powerful? How had they grown wings? Were they seriously going to try and take him down? Lulu and Celly, the sweet little fillies who had once made him flower crowns and taught him songs and invited him to tea parties. They were going to try and make him surrender. How adorable. He wasn't going to fight them, of course-- he still held a great affection for them, no matter how long he'd been gone. He would let them do their little song and dance, and them send them on their way.

Of course it was hard for the sisters, too. They had looked up to Discord back in the day, he and Starswirl both. Now they were using the magic that Starswirl had taught them to defeat someone he had once loved. Someone he probably still loved. But freedom is never free, and the sisters were resigned to their fate. They harnessed the power of the elements of harmony, turned Discord to stone, and hoped silently that someday, somehow, he would return to them, and he and Starswirl would find each other again.

[arctic-fiction]

Chapter 3: The Lunar Pools

(Art via Dream by Wombo)

Masterlist

Summary: Visions from The White Lady

Rating: Teen

Warnings: depictions of (near) drowning, panic attacks and violence

Wordcount:

The next morning the same chipper Healer came to bring me breakfast, plain porridge and elderberry tea. It didn’t taste bad but I wasn’t hungry. I fiddled with the spoon in the bowl and chatted with the Healer instead.

“So what’s the plan for today?” I asked.

“The others are prepping the lunar pools for you right now. The High Priestess wants you back in action before the full moon you know. We wanted to wait until the full moon for the best results, but she insisted,” she said.

“I can see why. Sky- the Acolyte I’m friends with said she’s not that good at improvising her sermons,” I laughed. “Do the pools even work without the moon to power it?”

“The procedure will happen tonight. I can’t guarantee you will be completely the same afterwards. We don’t know the true extent of the damage done to you.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip. I couldn’t stand or lift my arms even a little. What if I could never climb or even walk again?

The Healer put his hand on my head. “Hey don’t worry your pretty little head about it okay? We’re gonna make sure this will work for you.” she smiled. “Eat up and I’ll see you later for lunch, alright?”

“H-hey wait, what should I call you?”

she tilted his head as she looked at me. “Call me? You already call me Healer don’t you?”

“Sorry, forget I said anything.” I sank back into my pillow. We didn’t get names when we were born, all we have is our title. Our place within the group, and that’s all that should matter. Healer, Timekeeper, Spiritmender, Acolyte. Names give you individuality, and individuality gives way to chaos.

“You need to be careful, Light-bearer. Even someone like you could still be branded as a Chaosbringer. I’ve lost too many friends over simple things like this,” the Healer said solemnly. “Give me a name if you want, but guard it with your life if you do.”

I nodded.

“How about… Tesni?”

she looked up to the ceiling for a second before smiling. “Tesni..I love it! Well if that’s everything for now I’ll come and pick you up after sundown.” Tesni stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Well aren’t you becoming my little agent of chaos,” The Dark One said after appearing out of nowhere.

“Where the hell did you even come from!?” I said.

“No need to shout, dear, you don’t want to alert your new friend do you? I wanted to give you a little privacy while you slept. So I hid in the shadows.”

“And before you get any ideas about me spreading chaos, I’m not. It’s one name, how much damage could that do?”

He chuckled. “It’s two, actually. And one spark is all that is necessary to set the world on fire.”

“I doubt it.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

The rest of the day was uneventful. Skye came in to bring me lunch, so I didn’t see Tesni until the sun had left us for the day. Tesni and two other Healers came into my room with a stretcher.

“I can walk you know?” I grumbled.

“No you can’t,” Tesni and The Dark One said in unison. They gently lifted me off the bed and onto the stretcher. I felt slits in the fabric along my upper back, so someone’s wings wouldn’t get in the way. Tesni led the way forward. Ceilings passed by me as they carried me from the infirmary through the hallways. They stopped in front of a door I had never seen before.

“Have you ever been to the lunar pools?” Tesni asked.

I shook my head. “Not that I can remember.”

“Don’t worry I’ll guide you through the entire process.”

She opened the door and we descended down a dimly lit staircase. As we went down, the soft rhythmic sound of running water came to my ears. I smelt salt in the air and a cool breeze brushed along my arms.

“Alright, we’re here. Do you wanna see it before we start?” Tesni said and I nodded. She carefully slid his hands under my back in order to lift me up.

“Woah,” I breathed.

The grotto was massive. A large hole let the moon bathe the room in her light and imposing stalactites decorated the ceiling. An ancient, sturdy tree with rosy leaves and flowers stood at the centre of the room, with waterfalls finding their ways down around her roots. The pool itself was lined with countless burning candles, but didn’t need it. The water glowed with an awe inspiring blue vigor, with the light reflecting off the walls around it. Waterlilies dotted its surface and seemed to dance.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” The Dark One mused with a hint of something I couldn’t place in his voice.

“This is a dream,” I whispered.

Tesni lowered me back down and giggled. “I’ve never heard that before. Let’s get you ready.”

The Healers placed me on a wooden table and pulled the stretcher out from under me.

“You need to be bare when you enter the pool, so we’re gonna cut your dress off you and remove your bandages okay?” Tesni began.

“Okay.” She grabbed a small knife and cut the dress in two. The other Healers began to unwrap my arms and legs. I looked down at my own body for the first time since I woke up.

“Oh god,” I sobbed as tears started to form in my eyes. My skin was cracked and charred. Deep black cuts ran along my muscles. My fingers appeared as if only the bones remained.

“Hey, don’t cry. I know it looks bad right now, but that’s why we're here.” Tesni moved to wipe my tears away. I turned my head to see The Dark One but he had his back turned to me. Tesni put the knife back on the table beside me and grabbed a seashell.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

She moved her hand so I could see inside the shell. There was dark blue paint in it. “We’re only working with the first quarter, not the full moon,” she pointed at the hole in the ceiling, “I’m going to highlight the energy paths along your body to guide the light.”

she pressed two fingers into the paint and delicately ran them over my body. Down my throat, sternum and stomach. Stopping at my pubic bone and continuing on my thighs and shins. When she reached my feet she came back up to draw over my heart, shoulders, arms and hands. Lastly she dragged them over my forehead, nose and chin.

“Should we do the back as well?” one of the Healers spoke.

“Yes, please lay her down on her stomach for me,” Tesni answered.

When they turned me over she moved my hair out the way and continued down my neck, along my spine, stopping at my tailbone. Lastly she drew lines down the back of my thighs and my calves.

“You are ready to embrace the waters now,” Tesni said and hoisted me into her arms. When she reached the edge of the pool, she spread out her wings and flew to the middle of it.

“I can’t touch the water, or it will be tainted. I’m gonna have to drop you into it, understand?”

“Yes,”

“I want you to remember to keep breathing. The water is special; it will let you breathe. If you panic it will reject you and throw you out, okay”

“Okay”

“Alright then, on three.”

One.

Two .

Three.

Where am I? Who am I? Why is it so cold here?

Tesni said to keep breathing but who is Tesni? Why is it so dark here?

Keep breathing

In Out

In Out

In Out

I felt weightless. Is this what flying was like? But I’m not flying am I? I’m falling. No, that's not the right word either. I’m sinking! I’m sinking, I’m underwater! I need to get back up but..but I’m safe here.

I slowly opened my eyes. The surface seemed miles away from me, as did the light of the moon. My own body was all I had to ward off the darkness. No sound came to my ears. How deep could this pool be? Should I go look for the bottom?

I flipped myself over. Instead of the inviting light of the surface, I saw an endless dark abyss. I swam down. Deeper, deeper and deeper. The water got colder and darker as I went, and still no floor.

And then I saw it. A brightly glowing yellow crystal nested between the jagged rocks. The lines Tesni drew on me started to shine with a matching intensity. When I reached out to touch it, a hot red light welled up in my chest. I pulled my hand back to my chest, the light persisted.

“Two souls, one body” a voice whispered. It wasn’t The Dark One, it was too light. Was it the crystal? I braced myself and pressed my hand against it.

The crystal shattered and a rush of energy surged through my body, enveloping me in a blinding light. When it reached my chest, the red light swirled along with it.

“My poor child,” The same voice as before called out, and the light formed the silhouette of a woman, “What happened to you?”

I moved to speak but no sound came.

“You’ve suffered so much in so little time, and so much more has yet to cross your path. My heart bleeds for you. Follow your twin soul, Light-bearer.”

From the red light came the shape of a man who grabbed my right hand. “Come home to me, little one,” he said as he pulled me closer.

My lungs burned when I hit the surface. Tesni stretched out her arm towards me from the edge of the water. I hung on to him for dear life as she pulled me out of the water. I collapsed on the floor, heaving and retching. I heard Tesni shout at the other two Healers in the room with us. Someone wrapped a large towel around my body. The Dark One kneeled in front of me.

“Deep breaths, little one, you will be okay.”

Little one

My head shot up and I looked at him with wide eyes. It can’t be. Tesni started to slowly pull me from the ground and towards a mirror I hadn’t spotted before. My eyes scanned my reflection. The black, cracked skin had disappeared, but.

”I got scars,” I croaked. The surface of my arms, torso and right leg was covered with bronze tree branch-like patterns, making my skin resemble that of cracked porcelain.

I turned to Tesni with pleading eyes, “You-you can fix this right?”

she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but this is permanent. I wish the circumstances had been different. There’s nothing we can do now. Come, you’ve had a long day and you need to rest. Do you think you can walk by yourself?”

“I don’t know,” I said flatly.

“I’ll take you back.”

I wrapped the towel tighter around my body and shuffled on behind her. When we reached the infirmary she handed me a new dress and bid me goodnight. I crawled under the blanket and didn’t stop crying until I fell asleep.

Loud knocking woke me up the next morning. I rolled over and tried to ignore them. The knocking persisted.

“You might want to get that,” The Dark One suggested.

“Shut up and go back to the shadows,” I murmured into my pillow. It was too early to deal with anything. The sun had barely begun to rise.

“Light-bearer,” Tesni’s voice was muffled, “I need to go through your final check up and then you can leave.”

I groaned. “Fine.”

I followed Tesni to the observation room down the halway. There she checked my reflexes, my nerve sensitivity, and the strength of my regenerated muscles.

“You seem to have limited mobility and strength in your arms.” she said.

“Oh,” I frowned.

“Hey, don’t be upset now. This is just a minor setback. Your body got a big hit to it, and it just needs some help to get it back to what it used to be.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“See that’s the spirit. You’ve seen enough of this place, so I’ll come and fetch you later this week when I have a plan for you. Go find your friend. I bet he misses you.”

I slid off the examination table and waved to Tesni as I walked out. The sun beamed through the tall windows and bathed the hallways in an orange glow. I only heard my dragging footsteps and singing birds outside. The halls were deserted, where was everyone?

As if on cue, I heard someone call out my name. I collided against someone as they pulled me up into an embrace. My toes barely grazed against the polished stone floor.

“Careful! Careful! I'm fragile," I laughed.

"I missed you," Skye murmured into my hair.

"You say that as if you didn't see me yesterday!"

"Yeah well I still do. So that's your problem now." He squeezed me tighter. "How do you feel?"

I shrugged. "They did what they could, but I don't really feel like myself. For now, I'm hungry and I want a bath."

Skye stayed quiet, but his eyes glided over my arms, following the pattern of my scars. Over his shoulder I saw The Dark One glare at me.

"Meet me in two hours on the roof of the sanctum, alright? I need to talk to you about something."

He nodded and let go of me. He turned on his heels and walked away. I continued to head to my room.

My room looked the same as I had left it. The curtains were drawn, my sheets were a mess at the foot of my bedroll, and dirty laundry had been kicked into the left back corner. I let out a sigh and opened the curtains and the window, letting the fresh morning dew wave away the stale air. I moved to the small washstand and mirror and pulled the rickety stool out from underneath. I grabbed my hairbrush and started undoing the knots from the silver strands. In the mirror I saw The Dark One still glaring at me.

“Well you’re awfully quiet,” I said, “I expected you to have made some snide remark by now.”

“What are you going to tell him?” He asked.

“The truth.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” I turned around to face him.

“I mean you are going to keep your pretty little mouth shut about me, or you’re going to regret ever opening it.”

“He deserves to know.”

“That boy doesn’t deserve anything. If you tell him the truth he will run straight to your High Priestess, like the good doggie they raised him to be. I’ve come too far to let your sentimentality ruin everything.”

“Well then I'd like to see you try and stop me!”

He grabbed me by my throat and thrusted me against the bedroom door. The wood creaked from the sudden force against it. His touch burnt like hot metal on my skin as he squeezed tighter and tighter. My lungs screamed for fresh air. My hands clawed at his hand and my feet kicked in the air in a desperate attempt to find solid ground. Tears started to stream down my face and my vision started to blur.

“H-How?”

He laughed and pulled me close to his face. “You don’t think I’ve been idly watching how you go on your merry way now, do you? You can’t tell me you’re that naïve.”

“I-”

“Think hard, darling. Did you think I wanted to stay a spirit? No, I want my body back, and I will do anything to get it. Just because I can’t kill you, doesn’t mean I can’t make you suffer.”

“M-Monster”

His face fell and so did I. I gasped for breath on my hands and knees, shaking against the door. He stepped away and turned his back to me. “You’re a fool to think you can trust him or any of them.”

I scrambled onto my feet and ran out the room, not even daring to look back at him. My feet pounded against the hard stone. The hallways zoomed past me. Faces blurred together. If running could make everything disappear, I would run to the edge of the world. Run until there were no gods, no stars, no chaos and no darkness. Run until all that was left was me. I ran onto the roof and collapsed into a ball. I wanted to scream but I had no voice. I wanted to move but my body was stone. I wanted to breathe but my lungs were filled with lead. My world was barreling towards the abyss and all I could do was sit there and watch.

“Light-bearer?” Skye. I looked up to him through my lashes. He knelled down in front of me and reached out his hand. I flinched and he pulled back. I tried to speak but only strained sobs came from my mouth. He wiped the tears from my face and shushed me. His eyes glided down over my throat where graying bruises were already forming.

“Who did this to you?” he asked quietly.

I bit my lip. The Dark One’s words echoed in my head. You’re a fool to think you can trust him.

“I-” I hesitated, “You have to promise not to tell.”

“Of course! I’d do anything for you.”

“It was The Dark One.”

“What!?” Skye’s eyes widened, “How?”

“I kept hearing this voice and I followed it into the ruins. I got hit by lightning and suddenly he was just there. He’s been following me around since I woke up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“He didn’t want me to. He got so angry when I wanted to tell you.”

“Is he here now?”

I looked around me and shook my head.

“What are you gonna do now?”

“I can’t go back there. I don’t know if he’s waiting there for me.”

“Well then you’re staying with me. Go to my room, I’ll pick up your stuff and then we’ll go from there.”

“But-”

“No buts. No god is going to stop me from caring about you.”

And that's it for chapter three! I hope you enjoyed :) I spent a good 20 minutes trying to figure out how to convey Light-bearer's panicked thoughts on Tumblr, cus you can't change the way text is outlined. As always, comments are appreciated, and I will see you guys in the next chapter.

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Sick Day (NOS4A2 Drabble)

A/N: Holy shit! I actually wrote something?! Well, unfortunately, this is probably gonna be my only fic for a while since I’m gonna be so busy. But I hope you all enjoy some Charlie fluff! It helped to let my creative muse out amongst my stress! (Also, I own a Totoro like the toy pictured above) ;)

Sick Day

NOS4A2 Drabble

By: Bunny Louise Grimes

That Friday, the stretches of farmland rolled along beside the Wraith as we went for a leisurely drive. The clouds were grey, the spring air was cool, and dew covered the windows. We took a rest outside of a beautiful and abandoned hospital to eat our fries and crack each other up. Nearby, a park sat where Charlie pushed me on the swings. But by the time we decided to head back home and order a pizza, I noticed I was feeling a bit tired. While ordering the pizza, I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. The only interesting (and scary) thing on was a news segment discussing how a shooter at a restaurant two towns over had threatened to kill people (something like an altercation with his girlfriend who was a waitress perhaps?), and he was still at large.

“Well, that explains the helicopters we’ve been seeing and hearing,” I said.

“Indeed,” Charlie nodded. “We’ll have to be careful tonight and make sure everything is locked up so that he doesn’t try to hide here, especially since this house is the perfect place to hide. Out in the middle of nowhere, miles of forest to run, the mountains... good thing my Wraith has a mind of her own, because if he thinks about hiding there, he’ll be ran over.”

After I ordered the pizzas from my laptop, we went out for another small drive in the grey skies to retrieve them. By then, my tiredness had gotten worse, and I noticed my body had a dull ache. I wrapped myself up in my yellow sweater tighter. Besides that, I was wearing green floral leggings, green socks, and black Mary Janes. It was already a cool afternoon, but it wasn’t this freezing, so why was I so cold? I thanked the fact my hair was done in a pair of long fluffy puppytails held together by my green ribbons so that I had an extra layer of warmth.

“I’m concerned I might be coming down with something,” I told Charlie. “I’m starting to feel real tired, cold, and achy.”

“Well, we’ll see how you feel,” he said. “If you start to feel really sick, we’ll have our answer and we’ll give you medicine.”

After coming home and eating our pizza, my tiredness, alongside my full stomach, overtook me, and I fell asleep. When I woke up from a bizarre dream, I realized how cold, achy, and tired I was. Charlie felt my head and observed that I was feeling very hot. He took into consideration how cold his body temperature was and placed the tympanic thermometer from the bathroom into my ear. I was 100 degrees Fahrenheit on the dot, a definite fever.

He presented me with medicine and he carried me upstairs, where I fell asleep once more. When I woke up from even more odd dreams, my fever had increased to almost 103 degrees. I had developed a headache and chest discomfort. I went to the bathroom due to an odd sensation in my stomach, and I realized what it was once I was done.

“Charlie,” I called weakly to the hallway. “I have diarrhea too!”

“Well, all of this is most unfortunate,” Charlie sighed. “We should call the doctor and he can figure out what’s wrong.”

He got on the landline and contacted the local doctor. I ended up with an appointment that day at three. Charlie helped me change into the clothes I wore yesterday, and he helped me rebraid my hair. When we arrived 30 minutes later, there was only a few other people in the doctor’s office. I was the second person to be called. After a quick checkup and a quick talk with the nurse about my symptoms, the doctor walked in five minutes later and concluded I had the flu.

“Flu season’s in fall and winter,” he said. “It peaks between December and February, but it can run even as late as now. It happens sometimes, someone has it and you just catch it. It’s pesky influenza, you can get it at anytime.” He turned to Charlie. “That elderberry medicine was good thinking. Keep giving her that so it will help her immune system. I also recommend Vitamin C, so orange juice is a good drink idea. Here’s an antiviral prescription.” He gave the paper to Charlie. “I’ll call the pharmacy, you’ll be able to pick it up in a few hours.” He turned back to me. “In the meantime, you just take lots of rest and stay hydrated, especially with your diarrhea. Since your stomach might be upset, you should eat lighter things like crackers.” He chuckled and smiled, saying, “I assume you know all this, however, given you are in the medical field yourself.”

I nodded, laughing as best I could. “I don’t work as a nurse now since moving here, but at anytime, if I do need to work, I think this would be a good place.”

He beamed. “Absolutely! I’m glad you think so! You seem like the person we’d like on board. But you focus on your health first.”

After leaving, Charlie took me home, where I switched into my pajamas and cuddled up with some of my ponies (Razzaroo, Minty, Wysteria, Sweetberry, Cotton Candy, Sunny Daze, Sparkleworks, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Kimono), Kuchi Kopi (who glowed a comforting green), and my stuffed Totoro on the couch.

“I’ll make you some soup,” Charlie said. “You want some Progresso rice soup with Taco Bell sauce?”

“Just like when I was a kid,” I smiled. “Yes. Can you put in A Charming Birthday so I can watch something small for a little bit?”

He put in the pony VHS tape and went into the kitchen. The soup was done and I had adjusted myself on the couch. He also presented me with orange juice in a glass and ice. I ate my soup and drank my OJ carefully while Charlie turned on the news again once the twenty minute short was over. The culprit from yesterday had been caught, so there was no need to worry about him on the loose anymore. Other than that, the news became annoying, so I asked Charlie if we could watch a movie.

“Could we watch My Neighbor Totoro?” I asked.

“What is that?” He looked puzzled.

“It’s one of the movies I brought. It’s from the 80’s, animated, and from Japan.”

He looked at the clock. “Let me get your medicine. I’ll have to get it in about fifteen minutes, and you know it takes ten minutes to get to town. Finish your soup while I’m gone and I’ll make you some hot chocolate upon my return.”

I nodded, changed the channel to Two Broke Girls, and we exchanged a kiss before he left once more. I had finished my soup almost ten minutes later and my stomach felt slightly upset (not the fault of the food, it had to have just been my stomach being in the state it was in). I weakly stumbled upstairs, chills hitting my aching body without my blanket, and did my business in some discomfort. I did my best to clean myself up with painfilled muscles. I felt clean and wrapped up what I needed to do. The lilac smell of the soap and the warm water I was using to clean my hands up smelled and felt refreshingly pleasant on my ill body.

I snuggled with my toys when I returned downstairs and chuckled at Caroline and Max’s antics to get more money until Charlie returned home. I took my medicine (including the elderberry medicine he gave me yesterday) and he made me hot chocolate, alongside a plate of crackers. He put in the Totoro DVD and I anticipated seeing the serene and beautiful world associated with Studio Ghibli movies. I was snuggled up with Charlie and had my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked.

“Physically, no, but emotionally, yes.”

“I’ve never seen this movie before. How good is it?”

“Very. It’s comforting, light hearted, and filled with lots of innocence and imagination.”

He smiled. “Hmm, seems like it’s right up my alley. I’m intrigued.” He picked up the case. “What is a Totoro?”

“He’s a forest spirit. He’s a mix between a cat, owl, and raccoon. You’ll like him, he’s a gentle giant.”

We watched the entire movie, the two of us making side comments every now and then, and Charlie loved every minute of it. By the time the famous ending credits serenaded, I was ready for a nap. Charlie turned it to Ghost Adventures reruns. I desperately wanted to stay awake, but I knew by then I couldn’t. I didn’t mind too much because I knew I had all of their episodes on DVD. I warned Charlie I might fall asleep.

“That’s fine,” he said, kissing my forehead. “This is just so you have something you like to lull you to sleep. I might take a nap myself.”

Within minutes, I fell asleep and had vivid dreams inspired by the movie (something about it raining and Totoro roaring and flying in the night sky while I was roaming around a gorgeous forest). When I woke up, I needed water. I went into the kitchen and downed as much as I could. Charlie woke up a few minutes later. I had to go to the bathroom again and Charlie helped me this time.

“I feel very sweaty and gross,” I sighed.

“You want a warm bubble bath?” He asked.

“You’d give me one?”

“Of course.”

I slipped my pajamas off and he filled the clawfoot bathtub with warm water and and sparkly white bubbles. He made it smell like two soaps called Cosmic RainbowBerries and Old Fashioned Flowers. Once again, my cold, achy body felt exposed, but stepping into the soapy water melted it away. The scent was amazing, and his firm and gentle hands cleaning my weak body made me sigh in pure content. He unbraided my hair and I embraced every moment of his nails and fingers working their way through my scalp. All the while, he was softly humming “Put Your Head On My Shoulder.”

Once I was all clean, he wrapped me in a soft towel as quick as he could so I would not freeze while he dealt with the tub. I picked out a long and soft nightgown with strawberries on it and thigh high flowered socks. I wandered back into the bathroom so he could blow dry my hair and rebraid it.

“Why look at you! You smell as clean as a spring flower! Perhaps the first rose in the meadow? Fitting for your name, dear!”

I laughed and hugged him. “I certainly feel like one thanks to you.”

When we returned downstairs, he began making chili for me, and I decided to play some Call of Duty Zombies. I took more medicine before I played and drank more water as I did. After eating it, talking with Charlie about various things, and snuggling up with him while playing, sleepiness took over again. By the time I went down from running out of options and being surrounded by the undead, I was about to fall asleep on Charlie’s lap, controller still in hand.

“I think, my darling, it’s time for you to find a more comfortable place for your head,” he coyly teased. “And as I would consider myself a gentleman first and foremost, I would certainly rather have my lady comfortable in a bed rather than my lap.”

I lifted up and rubbed my eyes. “Ugh, you’re right, my fever might be getting a tiny bit high again because it’s night. Sorry, baby.”

He kissed my cheek. “No, no, it’s quite alright. You are correct your fever might be higher now. Let’s head to bed.”

We turned everything off, I put my ponies (with the exception of a random three of Minty, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash) and Totoro back where they belonged, but I held onto Kuchi Kopi. He carried me to bed as I snuggled with my toys and blanket in his arms. I set my ponies and Kuchi Kopi near the lamp on my side of the bed. I brushed my teeth, went to the bathroom one more time (but not to deal with my stomach, luckily, that would maybe be saved for the morning), cleaned off my glasses, and hopped into bed. Charlie has brought up my glass of water and set it near my lamp as well. He turned off the light and left us with the comforting white hallway light and Kuchi Kopi from beside me. We snuggled into bed under the covers and I held onto him.

“Thank you for taking care of me today and helping me every step of the way,” I kissed him on the cheek.

“Of course, my dear, anything for you. I know you’d do the same for me... well, if I could get sick, but I don’t, hence why I was able to take care of you to the extent I could without fearing exposure. But even if I wasn’t a vampire and could get ill, I’d still take care of you.”

“Awww, sugarpop ,” I kissed him again. “I wouldn’t want you to get sick. I wouldn’t force you to do it. I’m not even forcing you now.”

“I would anyways, and you know this.” He rested his chin on my scalp.

“You are the sweetest man alive, you know that?”

“And you are the sweetest girl alive. Once you are feeling better, would you like to visit the children? I am sure they would love to see their stepmother all healthy and well.”

“I’d love that, and we could make pillow forts, eat cookies and oatmeal, drink hot cocoa and watch Totoro together...” My eyes fluttered just at the thought and my body sunk into his.

“They would love that deeply,” he agreed. “I admit, in some ways, those two little girls in that movie remind me of my own Millie and Lorrie. I think they’d relate to their sisterly bond.”

“Mmmhmmm...” I snuggled closer to him, about to drift off.

“Good night, mignon,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“Good night... I love you too...” I mumbled.

We both fell into deep sleep. It had been a rough two days feeling as ill as I did, and I knew the next few days would be the same, but I had Charlie by my side to help take care of me. And that would make all the difference.

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

A wooden axe

Synopsis: Vanya spends some time with Helga and Floki and finds something out.

Warning: Angst, forced marriage, dark thoughts, Ivar, fluff

Tagged: (hopefully they will work now, I always copy and paste the begging and that’s why the tags didn’t work. I am sorry and I hope it works)

@shannygoatgruff​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @heavenly1927​ @lol-haha-joke​ @queenbeeta​ @didiintheblog​

P.S. Everything in cursive is in Old Norse. Flashback are in bold and cursive.

(From now on there will be probably big time jumps to hurry the story along a bit... There will be min. 5 chapters before we reach season 4B)

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it.

It's official. Vanya hates pregnancy. At first, she liked not having her monthly blood, but then came then she started eating like Hvitserk, then the vomiting, then the aching bones, then the tiredness. Now she must make water all the time, and it is so annoying. Everything is really, even the way Bjorn breaths at during meals is driving her insane.

Ivar has been very overprotective, which in turn makes Vanya very angry. No matter how much Aslaug and Torvi reassure her it's normal, Vanya is pretty sure her hair will go gray by the time the child is born.

To ease the tension, Ubbe asked Helga and Floki if they would spend some time with her, while he took Ivar hunting. Bless that boy, because that's what the married couple needed, some breathing space very far away from each other.

And the Saxon liked Helga, she had not seen the nice woman in a long time, and her only company nowadays was the Queen, the Ragnarssons and Brynja. The poor girl was threatened by Ivar, who always trailed them whenever Vanya wanted fresh air, that if anything happened to his wife, Brynja would pay for it with her life. He was being overdramatic, like always. But she still cared for him nonetheless.

So now here she is picking berries with Helga, while Bjorn and Floki talked about ships outside. The oldest Ragnarsson was ordered to go with her by Ivar, to keep her safe. As if somebody might attack her on her way here. "Are these poisonous or not?"

"No, those are alright. It's the red ones that are bad. Do you not have Fläders in England?" Helga asked her with her hands full of berries. She dumped the small dark blue fruit into the basket, set down by Vanya's feet.

Vanya plucked the blue berries from the low hanging branches. "We do. I am sure I saw them in the gardens. I just never ate them. But we call them Elderberries." The ginger explained to the Viking, the sounds of the wild calming her headache instantly. Maybe she just needed some time away from the Great Hall, as Ubbe said.

The blonde woman them walked towards Vanya and showed her a weird root and mint leaves. "Ivar said you get sick in the mornings. Maka tea out of these, and it will help. Peel the ginger and cut it into small pieces, and then pour warm water on both."

Vanya looked at the kind blonde in adoration; she was truly godsent. The redhead thanked her before they took the full basket and moved back to Helga's and Floki's hut.  They could hear the boatbuilder and Ragnarsson talking near the fire while the two women walked around the kitchen. Helga showed her all sorts of remedies made from plants. It was so fascinating for the Princess to see how much meaning every plant really held. Every plant was of use and help, even the poisonous ones, if you thought about it.

The ginger was delighted with learning so much from the woman Ivar saw as a second mother. She was so kind-hearted and shy; it reminded a little bit of herself. Maybe Vanya and Ivar are the second coming of Helga and Floki.  The two slightly crazy Vikings, who love the Norse Gods with all their heart, and the two kind women who love them nonetheless no matter how much pain they might bring them.

Vanya froze in the middle of cutting carrots for a stew. Did she love Ivar? Until now, the redhead liked him and cared for him, yet never did she call it love. Vanya loved the way he was around her, the sweet, caring man who worried for her and their child, even if he went overboard with it at times. She loved the way she felt safe in his arms, but sometimes she feared him because of his temper.

But she felt stupid. Ivar was cruel and angry, but never did he threaten to hurt her. The only time he was mad at her was because of her faith. Well, her father's faith. She didn't believe in God, but she clung to the stories she was taught as a child. He couldn't expect her to forget everything so fast. She didn't pray like a Christian anymore, she spoke to the Norse Gods now, asking them to keep her child safe.

He cared for her too, not because he had to, but because he chose to. And she loved that as well. But did Vanya love Ivar himself? Not just the safety and the child he gave her? Could she truly fall for a man that fast?

Helga looked up from the pot of stew when the chopping noises stopped and looked at the ginger. The said Girl stared blankly at the wall, too deep in thoughts to hear Helga call her name. "Vanya? Vanya, are you alright?"

The Saxon shook her head to clear her thoughts and smiled at her in reassurance. "Sorry, I was thinking. That's all." Helga nodded with her own little smile on her lips and returned to her work as the sound of careful and slow chopping of carrots continued behind her. She stirred the pot, smelling the aroma of her cooking; she lifted the wooden spoon to her lips to taste the stew. "How do you know so much about children, Helga?" The spoon fell from the blonde's hands and hit the floor.

Vanya ran to her side and apologized frantically, thinking she said something wrong. "It's alright..." Helga said softly, picking the spoon up. She inspected the utensil in silence before she looked at the worried blue eyes of Ivar's wife. "I had a daughter. Angrboda. A fever took here when she was three."

"I am so sorry, Helga. I didn't know. I am so sorry." Vanya apologized as tears gathered in the older woman's eyes. She should have kept her mouth shut; it tore at her heart to see such a gentle person suffer.

Yet Helga shook her head and wiped her tears away, smiling a sad smile. "I do miss her, but it is not your fault." The brave Viking stood back up and brightened her smile; she looked like the sun, so bright and warm. "I am sure you will be a great mother, Vanya."

The Saxon shook her head and walked back to the table, but all the carrots were finished. So she couldn't hide behind a meaningless task. "I don't know what a good mother looks like. Expect you. And the Queen."

Helga chuckled and put her hand on Vanya's shoulder. "That means you will have help. And you are a good person, with lots of love in her heart. A person like that can't be a bad mother." The reassurance was a nice thing, yet Vanya wasn't so sure she could be a good mother. Her own was distant and turned a blind eye to anything that displeased her.

"Stop dreaming, child. You are of royal blood. Love was never an opinion. You don't have to love that man. All you have to do is stand by his side, smiling and carry and raise his children. You never have to love him. Only love your children. In that, you will have no choice."

Did Queen Siflæd love her children, or did she just say it to make her shut up? It was a wonder if a woman like her ever knew love. She was married off at sixteen to an older man; she bore him a son because she had to. But she said she used to love him until he slept with another woman—a servant when Silas was four and Siflæd too sick from pregnancy to satisfy him herself. She grew to resent him, and after Vanya was born, she resented both her children also. Now all Siflæd cares about is looking her best while enjoying the freedom to sleep with whoever the Queen wanted to. And the church, for a woman of her past she is a devoted Christian.

Did she ever love anyone? Truly? Blindly? She didn't mourn her husband; she ignored her children and changed her suitors too fast to truly love them. Vanya didn't want to be anything like her. Her mother was wrong. She loves Ivar! She loves everything about him, inside and out. Vanya doesn't have to be the best mother, as long as she will be better than Siflæd.

"I am sure my child will be very loved. So many people love it already, and it is not even born yet. Queen Aslaug is very excited; sometimes, she is worse than Ivar. A few days ago, she wouldn't let me see the orphan children, said they could bump into my belly and could lose my child." Vanya explained remembering Aslaug's nervous attitude anytime Vanya stood up from the table and wanted to move somewhere.

Helga chuckled at the explanation as she made Vanya taste the stew. "She is very eager to have a babe in her arms again. She didn't want to have anymore after Ivar was born so that she could care for him. And now that he will be the first to give her a grandchild, she must be overjoyed."

The two women carried the pot outside and called Floki and Bjorn over to eat. They ate in partial silence, sometimes breaking it to talk of Bjorn's plans. He seemed so determined to explore that foreign place it made her excited with him. She hopes he will be successful on his raid and see the world.

"I got a gift for you, Christian." Floki suddenly said, standing up and walking away. Vanya looked at Bjorn in question, but the tall Viking only shrugged. Helga smiled as Floki walked back with something wrapped in a cloth.

She took the bundle from his hands and slowly opened it, scared of what she might find. Floki still wasn't that fond of her after Ivar told him he caught her praying. Inside the cloth laid a small wooden axe with beautiful carvings on it. On one side of the blunt wooden blade were Odin's two wolves Geri and Freki, while on the other was the Lothbrok raven. A serpent was carved around the handle, its jaws swallowing the axes head. Vanya looked up from the breathtaking craft to look at the giddy Viking. "This is beautiful, Floki. A piece of art."

"It is my gift for the child, a toy. Every man should have an ax. Especially if your father is so fond of them."

"And what if it will be a girl?"

Floki scoffed at that and pointed at the ax again. "Girl or not, she can fight. She will need a real one if she wants to be around boys one day. To fend off Ivar away from killing them." He giggled, happy that the ginger liked the gift he made with a lot of care.

Vanya ran her fingers over the wood, appreciating the masterpiece that laid in her hands. Never could she think that a weapon could look so pretty. She tested the grip on it, noting the lightness of it. It felt good to hold it in her hand, so different from what she imagined a weapon to be like. Maybe it's the fact that it's only toy changed it. Or it was something else. Perhaps all her prayers to be a brave Viking were coming true. She looked up at Floki and thanked him a thousand times till he halfheartedly told her to shut up.

[raisingsupergirl]

My Life With COVID-19: Week 1--Say Goodbye to Food

I never thought being a statistic would come with so much baggage. It's not that I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, I thought it already had happened to me. A couple of times. And maybe it did. But none of them were like this. I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can (you know, for science and future generations), but bear with me. COVID brain is definitely a thing.

I guess this story starts on 12/12/20. That's the day that my dear friend passed away. We were supposed to start a Dungeons & Dragons campaign together soon. Him, me, and three other good friends. But that Saturday, I got the text that he had passed away the previous night (not related to COVID, as far as I'm aware). Well, that following evening, those three other friends and I got together to remember him, to process some emotions, and to drink whiskey. The next day I woke up feeling… less than perfect. Of course, I thought it was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, but it was weird. I didn't drink that much. Not to feel that bad. And there were some weird things, too. My eyeballs hurt (really bad) like I had a fever, but I didn't have a fever. And my fatigue level was through the roof. Other than that, normal body aches and lack of appetite that come with over-indulgence, so I didn't think much of it. Even when I woke up on Monday with persistent symptoms, I just assumed I was getting REALLY old and should never drink again. Yeah, I'm kind of dumb sometimes.

Monday and Tuesday could be characterized by general lack of energy, some mild congestion, and those danged achy eyeballs. And the only food that appealed to me was soup, and only in small amounts. "Just a little cold," I told myself. Even still, I had the good sense to be extra-cautious with my hand washing and mask wearing procedures. Unfortunately, I didn't have the good sense to get tested at that time. Mostly because my insurance doesn't cover testing (which is $150/swab), but also because I was in denial. I needed to work. My patients needed treatment. I was important… irreplaceable. And, of course, I didn't want to have to call my friends and tell them I'd exposed them Saturday night.

Wednesday was more of the same, but I felt even more fatigued. Then, someone else I'd come into contact with the previous week let me know that they'd tested positive. Crap. That's when the pieces started falling into place. And the last one fell as I was drinking a glass of alcohol (elderberry tincture, actually. Which I'd made myself as a COVID preventative… guess I should have started drinking it earlier…). While I sipped, I was actually hanging out with those same Saturday friends, but this time virtually. We were playing computer games. And about halfway through the glass of elderberry goodnes, I noticed that it wasn't nearly as floral or alcoholic tasting as it should have been. I assumed it was getting watered down, but suspicion started creeping up my spine. And by the end of the glass, it tasted like straight water (which tastes like nothing…). Like some infected dummy straight out of a zombie movie, I told no one and went to bed, hoping against hope that I would wake up to the smell of bacon (or anything).

When my alarm went off the next morning, I popped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. First thing I did? Took a long whiff of my deodorant stick. Nothing. I stuck the toothpaste up to my nose. Still nothing. Brushed my teeth. Foamy nothing. Went to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing. And then it was time to go downstairs, face my wife, and finally say it out loud. "I can't smell anything. It's completely gone." And that's the moment that it became real. No turning back. One rapid test later, and my fate was sealed. My boss started clearing my schedule for the next week, and my mind started racing with all of the people I needed to call. All the things I needed to do. What my life would look like for the next ten days. Even now, I don't know if the virus was effecting my cognition and emotions or not, but I do know that I was a mess.

By the time I got home, my world was spinning. I was angry, ashamed, confused, defeated, and overwhelmed. Mostly overwhelmed. I made sure my wife had pulled our daughter from school, and then I went up to my room. Not because I was quarantining from them, but because I couldn't handle being around anyone, even those whom I loved most (I mean, I'd be spending plenty of time with them over the next week anyway, right?).

Over the next hour, I felt like someone with an STD contacting all of my past… well, you know. I texted, I messaged, I called. Everyone was incredibly understanding. They all wanted to know how I was doing. And it felt almost shameful saying that I felt fine. "Just a little fatigued, eyeballs hurt a little, some congestion. And the no smell thing." It's funny how that didn't dawn on me yet. In the flurry of confusion, I hadn't stopped to consider what life without smell would be like. That revelation would come later. No, right now I was focused on the bigger things. I wouldn't be able to attend my friend's funeral this Saturday. I wouldn't be able to host Portmas (an annual Christmas celebration with those same friends) that night. I wouldn't be able to go to work for over a week. The days would feel like months… Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a work-a-holic? Yeah, well, there was a BIG part of me right then that thought, "God did this. I wouldn't slow down. I wouldn't quit working. Even when I was sick, I was too dumb to take a step back. So God took my smell away. It's my fault for being so stubborn. And God finally stepped in." Yeah, those are some thoughts that I'll continue to unpack over the next couple of weeks, but for now it's enough to say that my thoughts and emotions were about as confused as my senses.

Speaking of which, my lovely wife made me a can of chicken-n-noodle soup for lunch. And it felt great. Warm, soothing, and satisfying. But with each bite, reality settled in the pit of my broth-laden stomach. It wasn't that I couldn't taste ANYTHING. There was something there. A touch of saltiness and a hint of umami (look it up). My tongue wasn't completely dead… but my nose was. And so, another cascade of confused emotions. More anger. More fear. Google said "most" patients got their smell back in a week or two, but for some it could take up to a year. And a small percentage never got it back. NEVER!? And at best, I didn't know if I could handle two weeks. Honestly, I didn't.

If you haven't lost your sense of smell, I'm sure you think I was overreacting. I would have, too, before it happened to me (Yes, I'm aware of the irony of my blog post a couple of weeks ago). But I want to try and explain the seriousness of this situation to you. Maybe fore some it's not so bad—those who are suffering REAL COVID symptoms. Those fighting for breath and for life. But for those of use who feel otherwise "normal," it's a panic-inducing affliction. For example, I'm a fledgling home brewer. Do you know what all beer tastes like when you have no smell? Like water with a ghost of bitterness on both sides of the tongue. Do you know what straight whiskey tastes like? Exactly the same with just a slight warmth in the chest. And so, my brewing hobby is done. Just done. And cooking? There's no point. Everything might as well be raw cucumbers and unseasoned French fries. Texture and temperature. That's literally the only variation. Well… almost literally.

In my panic, I NEEDED to know what my limits were. I needed to know if I could find any enjoyment from food. And so, I went to the extremes. Cloves, even when eaten straight, had absolutely no flavor. Straight salt registered a little on the tip and back of my tongue. Sugar felt kind of thick on my tongue, and if I tried imagining it, I thought I could taste it a little. Cayenne pepper was a little tingly in the back of my throat, but nothing more. Horseradish did nothing at first and only a little tingling on the top of my mouth afterward (mind you, I ate enough of all of these things to kill an elephant). And finally, I took a bite of a lime. Whoa! That about knocked me over. Imagine not tasting anything for 24 hours and then suddenly biting into a lime. That's exactly what it tasted like. Okay, well, I couldn't actually taste any lime characteristics, but that SOUR sensation registered off the charts. The sensation was both hopeful and frustrating, and those two emotions fit in perfectly with my general disposition.

That night, I was mean. Cranky toward my wife. She made dinner, and I was bitter about it. Airfried shrimp and tater tots with cucumbers on the side. She was TRYING to satisfy my texture and temperature requirements. And she did well. But it was still ash in my mouth, cotton balls in my stomach. And no one seemed to understand my frustration and fear.

But that night, I realized there was something I hadn't considered, too. My family is close. We hug and kiss. We cuddle. And so, there didn't seem to be any reason for me to start quarantining from them now. Besides, both of my daughters already had the sniffles, so the likelihood was high that they already had the virus. And my wife thought that she'd already had it a few weeks before. But… if she hadn't. If she was still susceptible. I wasn't worried about her safety, so much. She's healthy. She works out, eats right, and nurtures her already strong immune system. But, if she lost her smell, too…

Okay, hear me out. This isn't just about food enjoyment or fart detection (yes, my wife giggled at the dinner table because she farted right next to me without me knowing…). It's about safety. Have you ever considered how dangerous it would be to live in a house with a gas stove if no one could smell? I mean, presumably the kids might notice something, but would they understand enough to let us know? I'm honestly not sure I would take that gamble. So here's hoping my wife keeps smelling, because I really don't want to move out.

Oh, speaking of my wife smelling, there's one last revelation I had about anosmia (lack of smell). For an anosmic person to take a shower is truly a selfless act. Think about it.

Anyway, by the time I post this (12/23/20), my quarantine will officially be over. I will have spent a week at home. So I'll definitely have more to tell. But these first few days are enough for now. Stay safe, friends. And don't forget to stop and smell the hot cocoa before you miss your chance.

[agentstarkbarnes]

Three days. That's how long she has been running. From Johnsonville.

Princess Julia Katina-Rose Johnson was the only heir of the Johnson family. The crown princess of Johnsonville. The glorious child of King Grant and Queen Daisy. The highly respected and beloved royalty of her vast, diverse country. "Our savior" the people called her affectionately. Her parents ruled the land in all fairness, and Princess Julia was no different from them. She understood the people, and was idolized by many. "The perfect queen" as the court said.

The king and queen had chosen her to be the queen.Even though she didn't have a husband. She had suitors lined up, for all good reasons. She was the most beautiful princess, according to messengers, spies and the princes who came to ask her hand in marriage. She didn't like them, it was that simple. Some of them got drawn back when they found out she talked for herself, some did not like the attitude she displayed. Arrogant, they called her. But anyone could see it as intelligence. That was her. She was the smartest person in any room. Speaks up for herself, confident and brave. Her parents never once told her off. They let her be herself. And here she is, the fiercest, smartest and the prettiest face in the land, and the chosen queen. They were yet to break the happy news to the people.

With all good news lined up, what went wrong? Why was the beloved princess on the run? Good question. Princess Julia was adored by everyone, therefore she had a lot of enemies within the court. The ministers whom she outsmarted, the corrupt chancellors she exposed. The list grew. As she did noble deeds to the people, she gathered the hate of those who weren't happy with the deeds done. The princess knew she had haters, but never once expected it to be from her family. Christian. The king's brother. Her uncle. Uncle Chin, she affectionately called. He was two faced. He pretended to be noble to the subjects and loyal to the family. In the darkness of the night, he turned his back on them. Contract killers, that's what they are called. He had smuggled them into the castle, led them into the king and the queen's room. A passage only the royal family knew. Christian used the trust to backstab his brother Grant and the queen Daisy. They were killed that night. The princess heard the sounds. She rushed to her parents' room. Saw her uncle grinning over her parents' corpse. The killers gathering near Christian, also grinning.

"Why?" was the only thing she could whisper, her eyes boring deep into his. "Vengeance. Your father took the throne from me. I wanted it back. After all these years of waiting, I wouldn't let it be given to you, a brittle princess" Christian spoke. Venom laced his words. "The savior. The perfect queen. Many endearing terms. You won the hearts of the people. I didn't. What could I do other than this, to get what's rightfully mine?" he smiled coldly. "The throne was never yours" Julia said in a brave tone, showing that she is not intimidated by him.

"Finish her" Christian said. The killers approached her. Julia was smarter. She kicked some of the killers' kneecaps. This gave her time to run. So she did.

Day 1. She ran to the village. Seeking help or shelter from the people she helped. The people gave her food. Bread, fruits, biscuits, water. Whatever was left of them. Christian ordered the men to search the kingdom for Julia. Wanted her dead at sight. So the search began. Julia had a temporary hideout in a paddy field. When the search was over, she learnt. She learnt that the people who defended her were killed. That's when they stopped. Stopped helping her. Pretended they didn't hear her. She was a ghost. She took the message and moved on.

Day 2. The forest. That was the only place left. Christian crowned himself. The people of Johnsonville accepted him as their king. They knew they were wrong. They knew they should have protected the princess. After everything she has done for them. But they couldn't. They accepted the tyrant. Anyone who spoke against him were whipped. In front of everyone. And that was just his first day as king. No one said anything.

Day 3. Julia had almost crossed the boundaries of Johnsonville. She looked back one more time. She looked at her parents' summer house in fire. Christian did it. Erasing the memories of the previous king and queen. The people who made the golden time of Johnsonville happen. In ruins. The place she had called home. The place she was willing to serve. She couldn't call it home anymore. She had nobody there. Everyone turned blind to her. Her uncle, the royalty, the people who had once sworn to protect her, the people she had sworn to protect.

And here she is. Barefoot. Her foot aching with the burden of running for days. She knew she had to return to Johnsonville. It was her home after all. She wasn't the one to give up. She is a fighter. And she will fight. Fight for once what her home was.

Food had run out yesterday. She picked some fruits by the bushes. Mint leaves. Elderberry. Ate whatever she could gather. Sleep was a luxury now. She knew that her uncle wouldn't let her live. Moving as far as she can was the only choice.

It's been hours. She began her journey this afternoon. It was evening. She was on the outskirts of Rogersburg. A peaceful kingdom, she thought. Just like Johnsonville was. She winced at the was. Anyway, she didn't have time nor the energy to think more about it. She would only worry herself. She decided to move on. Go wherever her legs take her.

She moved a little more. That's it. 3 days of running has finally got to her. She laid by a tree and closed her eyes. Praying Christian wouldn't send men to Rogersburg to find her. Her thoughts slowly faded as she slowly started to sleep.

She woke up from her sleep. Looked around. She was not in a forest anymore. Soft velvet blankets placed upon her. She was surprised. Surprised that her feet weren't hurting. She looked down at her feet. They were healed. Medicines were placed on the nightstand. Did she end up in Johnsonville again? No. The sunset looked different. Did I sleep for almost a day? She wondered. She grabbed the brass vase by the nightstand and looked at the door. She decided to stay armed until she knows what's going on.

The doors opened. She quietly saw the person. Muscular figure. Blond hair. Blue eyes. A kind body language. Any person would immediately trust him. Not Julia. Even though she wanted to trust him. He sat on the edge of the bed. "Why am I here?" she asked as she put the vase down. That's when she realized that her voice had gone raspy. Looks like he did too. He reached for water and helped her drink.

"I found you in the forest. I recognised you immediately. The smartest, bravest and the prettiest princess in all land" he said, his cheeks tinting pink. "Anyway, I wouldn't let someone on the forest like that. I brought you back here and asked the maids to take care of you." Julia smiled lightly. "Where are my manners?" he scolded himself. "I'm Prince Steven Rogers of Rogersburg. Call me Steve" he extended his hand. A permanent smile stayed on his face. A sincere smile. "I know.Princess Julia Johnson of Johnsonville" she returned the smile.

"I've heard about you." Steve said. Even though he knew her. But neither of them said a thing. He handed her a plate of food. Biscuits, tea, sandwiches. She ate them slowly. "I know. You said that moments ago" she said softly, savoring the food she got. He rubbed the back of his neck, hiding his blush. She smiled. It's been days since she smiled naturally. "I know about you too. Steven Grant Rogers. Crown prince of Rogersburg. Chivalrous, meek, smart. Not afraid to help anyone. Not a perfect soldier but a good man" she said. They exchanged smiles. An instant connection, a spark. Both could feel it.

"Why didn't you come ask my hand in marriage? We are neighboring countries. Just curious" she asked, pouring her tea into a cup. Stir stir stir. She dropped a sugar cube. The sugar dissolved as she stirred. She looked at him for an answer. He then slowly opened his mouth. "I did not want to marry you without you knowing me. I mean.." he tapped his fingers on his knees. Tap tap. Tap tap tap. She noticed the pattern he tapped. His nervousness. "I've seen kings and queens in a loveless marriage. I wanted to know you and love you, before marrying you. I wanted to meet you but you were always fighting, holding court or serving your country. I didn't want to bother your noble work" he looked at his feet. "We've met" Julia echoed in the room. He nodded. He remembers too. It was a fine spring day. The gathering of the Johnsons and the Rogers. Blossoms on every tree. Steve and Julia talked all day. About nothing and everything. At the end of the day, both liked how the other person thinks and acts. Their character. Their sense of service. It was a spark. But neither talked about it. Steve left for his palace, so did Julia. Until now.

Clink. Julia placed the cup on the table and looked at him. "So.." she began to talk. Steve didn't let her. His lips crashed on hers. She accepted it. He wasn't urgent or desperate. He was slow, loving. She pulled him closer. He kissed her just right. He withdrew slowly and looked at her. His eyes were soft. Nervous, almost. She nodded her head. Wanted him to know it was okay. He helped her sit right against the wall. Propped pillows around her. He looked at her. It was her turn. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lovingly. Steve took her cheek in his palm and held her gently. They kissed. They kissed as if they had all the time in the world.

Withdrawing, they cuddled. It was comforting. Breaking the silence surrounding the cuddle, Steve softly talked. "We know what happened to Johnsonville". Julia nodded slowly, letting tears fall from her face for the first time since it happened. They rolled down her cheeks. Steve immediately brought his hand and wiped them. "We are going against them. An assassination as father calls it. Our family loved yours very much. My parents had an enormous respect for them. We shall never hurt anyone from the family." he said. She nodded again. "I promise you. Innocents will be spared. Christian will be the only casualty. Christian and his men." he kissed her cheek. She smiled at him. She knew Johnsonville was secure. Their castle was more secure. "I can help" she muttered, holding his arms around her. "Okay, if you want to" he smiled.

It's been seven months. Three months since she came to Rogersburg. Prince Steve and Princess Julia had developed a romance. A romance that should've happened way earlier. But who cares? They are together now. That's the way. Soulmates always find a way to each other. The Rogers family kept her a secret. The assassination was planned over these months. Just one night away. And Johnsonville should return back to the old self. The prosperous, happy and lush country. The place which she once called home. She will get to call it again. She knew she will. Steve promised her. The Rogers promised her. She knew about their loyalty. They always helped countries get back to happiness. Plus, they were like a family to her now. The bond has been created. A bond so strong, she felt like one of them.

This is the night. The night where she finally gets her country back. The assassins were sent. Julia helped them. King Rogers was vigilant all night. Steve and Julia laid on the velvet couch. None of them were sleepy. It was 2 in the morning and neither of them slept. Steve read books to her while they cuddled under a blanket. Julia read to him too. They talked. They kept awake all night. Steve said he'll marry her after this. If she agreed to it. Julia said yes. They celebrated this happy moment within themselves. Steve made a makeshift ring from the vine from the plant beside him. She laughed as she let him put the vine/ring on her finger. They kissed for a while. They kissed because it was official. They made their love public and official. They kissed because they were willing to get into anything. Together. They would face anything with each other. They had love. They were in love. They loved each other. The news came in. Christian was dead.

Julia walked back to Johnsonville again. Her home. She was glad to call it her home again. She was crowned. All the corrupt officials were gotten rid of. It was only a matter of months to get this job done. She had the help of Rogersburg. Together, they brought back Johnsonville to it's old form. The people apologized for their behavior. Julia knew they meant the apology. She was the bigger person, she always is. So, she forgave them. They were grateful for her. She was their savior after all. She restored their summer home. The one which Christian burnt. She turned it into a park. A memorial for Grant and Daisy. After almost a year, Steve and Julia got married. She was now Julia Katina-Rose Rogers. They ruled Johnsonville and Rogersburg. People saw them as the next Grant and Daisy. They were happy under them. Guess what? Maybe happily ever after exists after all.

[daraanna]

“Arranged Love”- Part six „Guest”

She woke up with a terrible pain in her neck. When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a scroll on her lap. She and her husband spent most of the night searching the library for documents about the land of the moon and the Otsutsuki clan. Unfortunately, their search did not bring them much new information. Despite this, she had to admit that she was impressed with the knowledge Boruto possessed. During the days she spent in the imperial palace, she never saw him take any particular interest in politics. However, yesterday he was very helpful. She looked at the blonde who was sleeping next to her, he also spent all night on the couch in a position even less natural to sleep than hers. Trying not to wake him up, she slowly got up and placed his head on the pillow, slightly correcting his posture and covered him with a blanket. Then she went to their bedroom to change her clothes. Ready, she go to find Shizune. The woman was dispensing a potion in hers cabinet. After the greeting, their conversation quickly turned to the mystery patient.

“His condition is stable, but he has a high fever, most likely pneumonia caused by choking on water, also he has polyuria ...

Sarada blinked twice. Her medical abilities were far from perfect, but the last symptom did not match the patient's clinical picture.

"You wrote down too much nettle and elderberry in the medicine that was given to him yesterday," explained the doctor, seeing her confusion. Young Uchiha immediately blushed ashamed. “It's not that bad, it's good that you corrected the prescription, the first thing you wrote could kill him ...”

Somehow it didn't cheer her up.

“But when it comes to resuscitation, you did a great job, the boy probably owes you his life.”

The last words made her heart warm. Until she remembered what they had discovered about the boy's identity the night before. Thanking Shizune for everything and saying goodbye to her, she ran to his room. The black-haired boy laid on the ground motionless. His chest rose and fell slowly. His face was flushed, by a fever that was consuming his body. Getting closer, she dipped a cloth in water and placed it on his forehead. Up close, you could see that his hair was not entirely black, there was a shorter-cut blonde hair at his temples. Apart from this, he had the number IX tattooed on his cheek. It wasn't the only tattoo, there was a black square on his left hand, it was quite strange. Suddenly she felt a sharp tug. Before she had time to react the boy's hands were on her neck, pressing her body to the floor.

“Who are you!?” She heard his hoarse voice. However, she was unable to make any sound. She tried to remove his hands, but the boy was much stronger than her. She started losing consciousness when someone pushed the boy away from her. Her body reacted immediately she take a deep breath and cough. She sat up to see Boruto slap her attacker in the face and then press him to the ground.

“S-stop it" she stammered as loudly as she could. The blond halted and looked at her.

The stranger moved away from him and looked at them in shock.

“Who are you!? What is this place!?” He shouted without letting go of his guard.

“Bastard! You don't even know with who you...

“We are the owners of this clinic” the black-haired girl replied interrupting her husband, who looked at her in surprise “ Inhabitants of Naka found you unconscious on the river bank, they brought you here ...”

The boy flinched slightly, but still remained wary.

“It means where?”

“In the Konoha Prefecture” she replied, but seeing that the boy still does not understand, she added ”In the land of fire.”

The stranger immediately relaxed, making an undefined sound, he bowed and uttered a silent sorry.

"I thought ... I took you for someone else ... My behavior was unforgivable" he added.

“Exactly” said Boruto slowly lowering his guard “And who are you !?”

“My name is Kawaki. I am ... Nobody ... Wanderer? This is probably the best word to use…”

There was silence for a moment, broken again by the stranger.

"Thank you for your hospitality, unfortunately I have nothing to repay it ... It would be best for me to go," he replied, heading for the door when he start coughing heavily.

"No way!" Sarada replied, walking him back to the bed. "In such a state you cannot leave the infirmary!"

As soon as Kawaki laid down, Boruto led her out of the room, and then ordered the guards who came with him from the castle to observe the boy.

Going through the corridor leading to the residential part, he embraced her around the waist, a little more too hard than she would have liked. At the same time being so close she could feel how tensed his body was. Her husband was angry with her. She understood that she was acting irresponsibly. Still, her pride did not allow her to admit it.

When they reached her room, the heir to the throne finally spoke.

"What were you thinking?!" He asked, releasing her.

"I went to examine the sick man," she replied, trying to remain calm.

“Without me?! Without a guard or at least an accompanying person?! Are you crazy?!” He growled, walking around the room.

“I can take care of myself!”

“Yeah, you showed it already!”

“He surprised me!!!”

“You will never go there again !!!” the blond screamed and then both of them fell silent. They looked at each other for a moment. They had never argued before. The situation was new, yet none of them wanted to lost.

"What is this, an order?", She asked, nervous about the answer she might get. She knew that if the answer was yes, she would not only get more angry, but also hurt. Probably more than she would like. The boy flinched at her words and thought about the answer for a long time. He ran his hand through his hair before, a bit calmer, replied, "No ... but understand, he could have killed you”

She felt a strange pang in her heart. She didn't think the boy could just be worried about her. It embarrassed her, and at the same time she was strangely happy about it. He cares about her as a person.

"I'm sorry," she replied, coming up to him. "It was irresponsible. I won't get close to him again ... Alone ...”

The blonde was clearly not pleased with the last word she added, but he did not protest. He just gently touched her shoulder.

“And maybe you need training?” he added with smirk.

She looked at him in shock.

"I don't understand," she replied, looking into his eyes.

"You wouldn’t like to practice sword fighting with me, maybe you are a bit rusty?" She stood for a moment opening and closing her mouth trying to say something. It is not possible that he meant it.

"I'm a woman, I don't know much about combat," she replied, trying to sound sincere.

“From what you showed you know more than me, but even I know that such knowledge cannot be drawn from observation ...” resigned, she hung her head. She knew perfectly well how the majority of the world reacted to a woman using a sword. But once again her husband surprised her with his behavior “ So maybe this time you will teach me something?” he asked, smiling warmly, this time without a teasing tone.

.....................................

Standing with her own katana in front of Boruto, she didn't know what to expect. Observing his previous training, she was able to draw conclusions about his fighting style, or rather the lack of it. This time, however, she could not count on the element of surprise. Not to mention what could happen if someone caught them sparring. After all, there were now a lot of people from Konoha in Naka.

Their second fight didn't last much longer than the first one. Although the blonde surprised her with the strength with which he attacked, a few tactical movements were enough for the heir to the imperial throne to find himself on the ground with the blade just above his head.

Uzumaki looked at her in disbelief, to smile widely shortly after.

“Soooo? Who was teaching you? “He asked and sit cross-legged as she pushed the weapon away from him.

"My father," she replied sighing, "Master Kakashi also helped a little ..."

“Oi, Uncle Kakashi also trained you too? It's not fair, why am I so lame?”

“Maybe it's because you didn't listen to him? You completely lack the basics, even the best-trained body will do you nothing if you lose your balance “ she replied, giving him a hand. The boy grabbed her and stood up.

"Then we will continue training?", He asked, not letting go of her hand. For a moment she was too focused on how close they were, so it takes her some time to understand the meaning of his words, she snorted.

“You want me to train you?”

The boy nodded.

"Do you realize it is illegal?" He looked at her in consternation.

"What? " All she could do was roll her eyes. Did he really not realize that what they were doing was not at all socially acceptable? It doesn’t bother him?

"You're annoying," she answered, moving back home in hurry to hide blush on her cheeks.

...........................................................................................

To say that I’m not satisfied with how this chapter is look like is like to say nothing... But after hours of rewriting, translating and then rewriting this again I came to conclusion that I can’t write this any better. I will do everything to write next chapter better, but I have no idea how long it will take, unfortunately I really struggle to find any good inspiration lately :(  

<<first part                                                                           next part>

[dogbearinggifts]

I find your metas on Vanya and Luther and their reaction to trauma enlightening. You bring an interesting perspective I don’t hear a lot. I am curious as to your thoughts on Five and how he reacts to trauma and his family. Thanks 😄

Thank you! I love writing them. 

Five, I think, is impatient with his family because he believes he survived worse. And, in some ways, he has a point: He ran away too young and found himself in a world far harsher than anything he’d been taught to prepare for. He was the last person alive, so there was no one he could ask for help. There would’ve been stores to loot for canned goods and nonperishables in the beginning, but even canned food goes bad eventually (and botulism poisoning would’ve been a danger with any cans that were dented or otherwise damaged) so he would’ve had to learn to hunt and forage. The latter skill especially is difficult to master, because there are so many plants that look edible but aren’t—water hemlock looks like wild parsnips, fool’s parsley looks like regular parsley, and that’s not even getting into things like elderberries which are edible, but only if cooked or prepared properly. I imagine Five finding a book on edible plants and another on plants to avoid, poring over the pictures for hours so he’ll be able to tell an edible mushroom from a poisonous one, only to give up and go hungry because he wasn’t 100 percent sure. He would have had to purify his own water, set up shelters in a way that shielded him from the elements and any wild animals that happened by, and he would’ve had to do all of this perfectly because nature doesn’t give a shit whether you live or die. One mistake would’ve meant death. 

So he’s definitely earned bragging rights, to say the least. But I don’t think he’s earned the right to look down on his siblings, because they didn’t have it better than he did. Oh, sure, they had easy access to food and shelter and would’ve been able to ask others for help if they needed it, but they were also under the thumb of a cruel man who saw them as nothing more than tools in his experiment. They had to undergo experimentation, dangerous missions (or, in Vanya’s case, being told they weren’t good enough to go on missions) and constant mind games from the man they called Dad. They all endured the trauma of Ben’s death. Five was off fighting his own battles, but there were thousands more battles raging at the Academy. 

However, his impatience with his family is…complicated. I think he sees them as lagging behind, like they’re caught up in petty things that don’t matter while he’s survived the apocalypse; but he also cares deeply about their safety. He held onto that copy of Vanya’s autobiography for decades because it was his last link to his siblings. He remained alive for forty-five years after his disastrous jump because he thought he could find a way to get back to them. Think about that: He was the last man on Earth; he’d seen his siblings’ bodies and found a book confirming that yep, even Ben had died some years back; he’s completely alone and without help; no one will notice if he lives or dies. I’d be surprised if he didn’t contemplate (or even attempt) suicide more than once. But he stayed alive, because he had that slim hope of getting back to them. As someone who has battled depression in far less dire circumstances, I’m in awe of that perseverance. 

He calls his siblings emotionally stunted, excluding himself from that categorization even as he acknowledges that their circumstances are what led to them being the way they are. That’s a pretty complex view to hold of his own family, but it conveniently ignores the fact that he too is emotionally stunted—just in a different way. Instead of breaking down when he learns the apocalypse is going to happen after all, he immediately latches onto anything that might help him stop it (which works out well when he decides to time-travel with his siblings, but not so well when he follows the Handler’s lure). He’s no drug addict, but there are many clues that point toward alcoholism. Instead of flying off the handle when his siblings do something that pushes his buttons, he seems to withdraw, tossing off a few parting shots before returning to whatever he deems more important. And he not only seems allergic to asking for help; he outright refuses to accept it until Luther literally threatens him into accepting. I mean, Luther gets a lot of flak in that scene for dangling Delores out a window, but Five was about to go off and kill a random gardener because the math said it might maybe hopefully prevent the apocalypse. It’s not a matter of “Five right, Luther wrong;” at this point, we’re looking at who was wrong and who was less wrong. (It’s Luther. Luther was less wrong. Five was more wrong.) He might not have the same flawed outlooks and toxic coping mechanisms as his siblings, but that doesn’t mean he lacks them entirely. 

I think his appearance also plays a role in how he behaves toward his siblings. He’s a 58-year-old man in a teenager’s body, but that’s a pretty spot-on metaphor for people who left abusive homes, and not just at a young age. You leave home, you have to survive in a world your parents didn’t prepare you for (either because they were neglectful or because they wanted to keep you dependent) and you make do. Maybe you even thrive. You grow up fast and overcome challenges you didn’t even know existed…but when you return home, your family sees you as the same dumb little kid they remember. At that point, you have two choices: Grin and bear it, or overcompensate. Five chose the latter. 

[baenxietydad]

16th Anniversary Of The Best Day Ever || The Baes

Summary: Nemo’s 16th birthday!!!

Dated: October 9th, 2019

@justkeepdancing-nemo​

MARLIN

Best day of the year, best day of the year! October 9th was Mu-yeol’s favorite holiday. Not because of Ecuadorian Independence Day, or Leif Erikson Day, but because it was the 16th Anniversary of the Best Day of His Life. Or, if you want to be boring, Nam-min’s 16th birthday. 

He didn’t care for his own birthday, but his son’s was special. On October 9th, 2003, Nam-min came into the world a little over a month early, giving his parents a scare, but they both immediately adored him. He was the child they tried for three years just to conceive, and from his first breath was their entire world. Now with just himself, Mu-yeol had to love him enough for two people. 

And he did. He sometimes got all choked up just thinking about how much he loved his son and how wonderful and beautiful his baby boy had become. 

He loved him so damn much. That’s why he treated his birthday like a national holiday. 

Like every year he got up early to make seaweed soup and to place his presents on the table. Once that was ready, he crept into Nemo’s room and slipped under his covers for the yearly birthday waking up ritual. 

“Nam-min ah. Nam-miiiin, wake up,” he said gently as he pulled Nemo in for snuggles. He played with his hair as he kept coaxing him awake. “Wake up, you know what day it is. It’s the best day! It’s your birthday! My baby is sixteen already.”

“Wake up,” Mu-yeol said, kissing his forehead and snuggling him closer. “So I can annoy you with my love.”

NEMO: 

Nemo had always loved his birthday. A whole day dedicated to him? Who wouldn’t love that? But he loved it not so much because he got presents, or because of yummy seaweed soup, or the nut-cake, or the fact he got to decide everything that happened on his birthday--

He loved it cuz Appa loved it. He loved it cuz Appa was always in such a good mood. No nightmares, no grouchiness, no extra paranoia. Just him, just Appa. 

And this year, his birthday meant the end of Nemo’s grounding. So it was the best day ever.

Despite that, Nemo was solid as a rock in bed that morning, his covers pulled over his head. It’d started gettin’ chilly like it always did, and a little chill always made it harder to get up in the mornings, even for someone like Nemo who was gogogo. His toes curled under his blankets and he fisted the blanket too, holding it tighter at the creaking of his door. Oooo, there’s Appa, he thought to himself, barely stifling a smile, as he pretended to still be sleeping deeply.

Part of that was cuz….well-- no sixteen-year-old should want cuddles from his Appa.

But Nemo still did. 

So he pretended. And when Appa dragged him close, he played at a groan and wiggled half-heartedly. “Appaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” he groaned with sleepiness. “Wahhhhh, gerroff!” he wiggled more.

MARLIN

“Nope, not allowed. It’s the sixteenth anniversary of the best day of my life, so that’s forbidden.” Mu-yeol said to letting go of Nemo. 

He carded his fingers through Nemo’s hair and smiled down at him all gross and affectionate as Nemo refused to open his eyes. Rude— how are they going to celebrate his birthday if he’s asleep? Ah, kids. Occasionally he’d press another soft kiss to the top of his head. 

“Do you want to skip school for your birthday?” He asked quietly as he continued to play with Nemo’s hair. “Or do you want to be stuck hanging out with your dumb embarrassing dad one of your weekend days instead?”

Playfully, he poked Nemo’s side where he was ticklish. 

NEMO: 

Skip school? He could do that?!

Nemo’s eyes finally opened, blinking all the tired outta them as he looked up at his dad incredulously, like he was waitin’ for him to change his mind. Plus, didn’t his Appa have to work? It was Grow-day, not to mention still a couple of days before the Full Moon Dance, which meant the Hollow fluttered, flittered, twittered, and buzzed with all sorts of activity. Though Nemo didn’t have talent class this week cuz all the fast-flying talents were getting ready for the Windy Day Race on October 13. 

So… he didn’t have talent class. And he didn’t have dance on Wednesdays either…

Unless!

“Wh-- this isn’t a test, is it?” he squinted at his Appa suspiciously. “I can actually skip school if I want?”

MARLIN

“아니 (ani). I wouldn’t set a trap. Mm, not on your birthday anyway. 그냥 (keunyang)...I just wanted to hangout with you on your birthday like we always do. And since you’re in school now that would take up your entire day.” And anyway, Mu-yeol knew he wouldn’t be in this good of a mood come the weekend. It was Nemo’s birthday not his birthweek that always (almost) restores him to him old self. 

He smiled down at Nemo in his arms as he narrowed his eyes at him. “You can skip school. Only when I offer it though; if I get a call you’re absent without my permission you’re gonna die.”

Mu-yeol punctuated the death threat with his warmest smile. 

“Aigoo, my baby’s growing up. You won’t need me anymore pretty soon.”

 It was a bittersweet thought. Nam-min not needing him anymore meant he wouldn’t have anything left to silence the worst thoughts in the back of his brain; live to take care of Nam-min didn’t apply once his baby boy became an adult, and it was the only thing keeping him breathing most days. It was the only thing that was enough and that terrified him. 

Most days, anyway, it terrified him. But on October 9th, nothing ever mattered but the fact that X number of years ago, his son was born on that day, and it was the one truly good day of the year. 

“You were so small.” He sighed, patting the space between his shoulder blades. “You came earlier than we thought, you dramatic jerk.”

NEMO: 

Wow, he really was gonna get to miss school. 

Which meant-- his friends.

Nemo hadn’t expected the sharp, quick stab of yearning, nor what followed after: guilt. Cuz he obviously couldn’t tell Appa that maybe he did wanna go to school after all. First of all, that was stupid. What kid wanted to go to school on his birthday? Sure, he’d get to see his mates and they’d all tell him happy birthday, but he’d only get a couple of minutes before class, and then lunch, and then that was really all…and in between, he’d sit through awful French and confusing History and didn’t he have a quiz in English which he didn’t study for? 

And wasn’t his birthday kinda his and Appa’s...thing? 

Yeah.

Nemo swallowed down that feeling then, cuz goin’ to school just wasn’t a real option, and did what he did every year as Marlin started in on his tirade. He grooooooooaned and wiggled some more, finally pushing Marlin off and sitting up. “Heeeeere we go again, next you’ll tell me about Eomma counting all my fingers and toes and fighting the healing-talents to hold me just five more minutes--” and though he was acting annoyed at the Same Old Story, the one Marlin told Every Single Year, he was grinning. 

Cuz he liked it. He wanted to hear it. 

MARLIN

“And if I do?” Mu-yeol challenged, reaching up to poke Nemo’s forehead. 

He hummed and sat up next to Nemo, wincing as sunlight got him right in the eyeballs. “She punched one of them, you know. Your mother was scary and always ready to...throw hands? Is that what it is? Especially when it was about you.”

He didn’t tell him how she had to take an exam at university the day after giving birth— and yes, she did go and ace that exam, and when her professor found out he scolded Mu-yeol for ‘letting your wife do that.’ But So-yeon did whatever the hell So-yeon wanted to do, Always. There was no allowing, forbidding, or talking her out of anything. She was determined to finish her masters’ on time to shut up all of the men in the program who talked about how STEM was no place for a wife and mother and said she should drop out and raise her child. 

Not for the first time, he wanted to tell him. 

“She always said having you was the best decision we ever made.” He said instead. “So the verdict on skipping school? If you really want to go we can do your birthday on Sunday.”

He hopped out of Nemo’s bed. “There’s seaweed soup ready, with pickled shriiiimps.”

NEMO: 

He only really had a couple of birthdays left before he really would be too old to celebrate with Appa and let him baby Nemo like this. This could even be the last one. Nemo would be well into his apprenticeship when next October swung around, after all. Who knew what his life was gonna be like then? What he’d be training in, what kinda time he’d have? 

Maybe he was already too old for this stuff now but… 

He wanted at least one more. 

So Nemo grinned. “Skipping, definitely!” he rolled out of bed too and then scampered past Appa. “SEAWEED SOOOOOOUP!” He called, giggling. 

MARLIN 

He felt tension he didn’t even know he was holding in his shoulders ease. What a relief it was that his baby hadn’t outgrown him just yet! Even if Nam-min was away from him more this year, he still wanted to hangout with his dad. That was enough. 

“Eat as much as you want,” Mu-yeol said as a laddled out a bowl for Nemo. “You have to eat a lot if you hope to grow any taller.”

NEMO:  Nemo plopped down in his chair, drawing up both his legs so he was criss-cross, then reached for his spoon. Course before he even got a spoonful, he shot a look at Appa, sour as elderberries. Because yeah, Nemo was small-- even for a pixie he was small, and especially for a fast-flying talent. Fast-flyers were usually some of the taller talents around actually, cept for maybe scout talents. Nemo was small the way a pollen-talent fairy was normally small-- or a bee-herding-talent was small. 

“Aish,” he sucked his teeth at his Appa and shook his head. “I’m not that small! I mean, I got long legs y’know,” he added hotly. And that was true. Nemo was nearly all legs, which helped with his lines in dance. (It didn’t do much for fast-flying though.) 

He scooped some soup into his mouth, and then grabbed the bowl and lifted the whole thing to his lips. “Here, I’ll eat the whole thing, so you can’t have any!” 

And he slurped half his bowl down to prove it. 

MARLIN

Mu-yeol playfully stuck his tongue out at Nam-min as he slid him a cup of elderflower juice. “It's not your fault, your mother’s human-size height was only 162 cm. She was the tiniest fast-flying fairy in both Hollows we’d lived in. Blame her for those genes.”

He barely stifled a snort as Nemo slurped his soup up like it was room temperature water and not hot soup.

“알았어, 알았어 (arasseo, arasseo). Go ahead, eo? I’m full watching you eat anyway.” He said, though he quickly ate a few spoonfuls himself in case Nemo swiped his bowl. Because he would. 

“What’s on the birthday festivities agenda?” Mu-yeol asked, spooning some kimchi onto some rice. “We can do whatever you want except hard drugs. Cocaine might be negotiable-- no, wait. That’s the last thing you need.”

NEMO: 

First, Nemo just gargled through his soup, still slurping it down. It really was kinda too hot to do so, but Nemo had already started so it meant he had to commit to it. And commit he did, until it was all done and he let out an “Ahhhhh,” plopping his bowl down and smirking at Appa. He said he’d do it. And Nemo could never resist a challenge. 

He rolled his eyes next though. “Appa, you’re really not funny,” he told him, shaking his head. Appa and his dad jokes. “Mmmm can we…. Oooooh, Appa, can we go dragonfly racing? Please. Pleeeeeeeeeeease, it’s my birthday! I’m 16, that’s plenty old enough!”  

Dragonfly racing was, of course, when fairies skittered across the Kohaku River on the back of dragonflies. Appa always forbid Nemo because dragonflies could be a bit, er, moody-- prone to 360-degree spins, or dipping real close to the water. He’d always been terrified Nemo would fall off and drown. 

Why was Nemo even asking? Well! He asked at least once a year, and a 16th birthday felt like a good time when Appa might not be able to say no. 

“We can go toooogetheer,” Nemo sing-songed. 

MARLIN

“Watch your mouth before I glue it shut, you little brat,” Mu-yeol said in response to being told he wasn’t a comedic genius, of course while pinching Nemo’s cheek while calling him a little brat. “What’s the number one lesson of life? Always laugh when your dad, your employer, or father-in-law makes a joke.”

Another spoonful of soup had almost made it to his mouth when Nemo made his birthday proposal, and the spoon fell from his hand, landing in the bowl with a plonk! Dragonfly racing!? Let him repeat, DRAGONFLY RACING!?!?

Was he trying to make sure this was his last birthday?

Mu-yeol clasped his hands in his lap to keep from wildly gesturing. In the spirit of Nemo’s birthday, he wasn’t going to give an immediate hard no. Today, and today only, he would hear him out about dragonfly racing. Maybe even say yes, and deal with the panic in his chest the entire time.

He taught Nemo to swim in Atlantis Lake in human size, without wings that couldn’t get wet, of course. Logically he knew that Nemo could probably tread water with wet wings long enough to drift toward an aquatic plant to hold onto until he could be pulled out of the river by a fairy with dry wings. It was still risky.

And yet, at Nemo’s age, Mu-yeol had been dragonfly racing for years. His dongsaeng-dul* would compete with him and the other fairies their age for prizes of anything from found objects teenage fairies used for bartering, to ₩5,000 notes the kids whose parents had human jobs would throw in the prize pot.

*reader’s note: dongsaeng = younger sibling; -dul is a particle to add to make any noun plural 

His last two logical brain cells reminded him that he was much more stupid than Nemo at his age, and that he survived. His father wasn’t half as protective as he was, so of course Nemo would be fine.

The other hundred billion weren’t half as reasonable.

“Nam-min…” before he could say no though, he cleared his throat to stop himself. He was gonna give him a chance, remember? “Only if you can tell me the procedure for if you fall off. Repeat it to me three times, then we will seriously consider it.”

NEMO: 

Appa didn’t say no right away. Whoa.

This was already a win. It was also not completely expected, and so Nemo found himself wide-eyed and leaning forward. “Really?” he responded at first. He had to absorb that Appa hadn’t immediately laughed off the idea like he had done all of Nemo’s life, before patting Nemo on the head and saying something about how hilarious Nemo was with that persistent death wish of his! And did he want to give his dear old Appa a heart attack?!

Maybe sixteen really did make the difference.

Maybe sixteen was going to be his year, after all. 

Nemo swallowed and leaned back, adjusting in his seat and then crackling his knuckles as he prepared to answer Appa’s test. He was pretty sure he knew about the procedures...even if he’d never really gotten to try them out. All the other fast-flying-talents though talked about dragonfly racing all the time (it’s why he wanted to do it so badly.) 

“Number 1--” he held up a finger, “--don’t panic. Number 2, get your head above water and your feet under you, so your wings don’t drag you down. Number 3, tread water in direction of the current toward the shore! Don’t fight the current, cuz you’ll get too tired too fast.” 

That was right...right? Right! 

MARLIN

Mu-yeol watched Nemo carefully as he ran through the DON'T DROWN protocols. Careful to eye him for any signs of bullshitting or hesitation, and satisfied when he found none that his son actually understood how to not drown, he supposed he now had to actually consider dragonfly racing. 

Maybe if he let Nemo do this once, let him have this one thing, he won’t do things like sneaking out with that awful kid Louie. This is exactly why he didn’t want to send Nemo to school, he knew he’d be too preoccupied with looking cool and being popular to actually care about school. He knew he wouldn’t understand that what mattered was finding your group of friends and being cool to them. It was the same for fairies in school, and fairies like Mu-yeol who didn’t go to school. Why couldn’t Nemo be like his mother was and only care what her friends thought of her?

Nemo was like him. Insecure and soft. 

Maybe dragonfly racing and the panic attack he’d be pushing down the entire time would be worth it. Maybe Nemo would take the victory and be satisfied. 

“Good. So...dragonfly racing. Are you sure there’s...nothing else?”

[bee-kathony]

UPDATED WITH CHAPTER 4 | Reminiscing

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander (TV), Outlander & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie/Roger MacKenzie Wakefield Characters: Claire Beauchamp, Jamie Fraser, Adso (Outlander), Roger MacKenzie Wakefield, Brianna Randall Fraser MacKenzie, Jem MacKenzie Additional Tags: Canon Related, Voyager spoilers, Domestic Bliss, the fiery cross spoilers, Drums of Autumn Spoilers, Fraser's Ridge Series: Part 1 of Tales From Fraser's Ridge Summary:

This is a collection of tales about characters that live on Fraser's Ridge in North Carolina. Most stories are set after or during the book 'Drums of Autumn' by Diana Gabaldon. Missing moments I thought would fit in nicely, mostly a look into the domestic simple days of our favorite characters, it's the little things isn't it?

Claire asks Bree to go with her to gather herbs from deep within the forest. They end up talking more about the life Claire lived with Jamie before she returned to the future.

The last of the snow had finally melted and I was itching to restock my dwindling supplies of fresh herbs. Since we lived in the mountains that meant no traveling during the winter while the snow was surrounding us, blocking every path to come or go. I went to my surgery to grab my basket that I used for gathering herbs and other plants in the forest just past the Big House.

“Lavender, Peppermint, Ginseng and elderberries.” I said, making note of which things I would like to pick up.

I heard a soft knock on the door and turned to see who it was and what they needed.

“Hi Mama,” Bree smiled and walked in the surgery, “Were you going out to gather some more weeds?” She smirked.

“Herbs…” I corrected with a grin, “but yes I was, did you want to come with me? Unless Jem needs you?” I hadn’t spent much time with Bree alone ever since Jem had come into our lives and while I loved Jem dearly, I did miss spending time with my daughter very much.

“Sure Mama, I just fed Jem and put him down for a nap and Roger is there with him writing his next sermon for Sunday.” She said and picked up the basket I was going to use. “I’ll carry it Mama. Do you think we’ll find much? Since the snow only just melted and all.” I picked up my knife laying on the counter to cut the more stubborn roots and walked towards the door.

“I know I most likely won’t get everything I need today but it will be nice just to be outside instead of cooped up in the house for another second.” As much as I loved cozying up to Jamie on cold dark nights, I was craving fresh air and something more to occupy myself with than cook and clean.

I led the way to the area of forest I knew grew most of what I needed and Bree walked in step beside me. We were quiet, not saying much as we walked deeper in, simply enjoying the other’s company and the peace of the woods around us.

I pointed out to Bree the peppermint leaves growing and she began picking them off and putting them in the basket.

“Mama,” Bree said to me while I was cutting mushrooms from around a tree, “When you first told me about Da… I know that you told me of when you first met and everything that led up to you having to go back through the stones but I was so…” she searched for the right words and looked at me, “angry at you. I really didn’t pay attention to what you were saying.”

I set the mushrooms aside in the basket and went over to her, placing one hand on her arm and looked into her eyes, so much like Jamie’s. “Bree, I shouldn’t have told you all of that, it- it was probably too much for you to take in, telling you that Jamie was your father and I suppose once I started talking about him, well I couldn’t stop.” I gave a weak smile and peered down at the ground between us. I often still felt guilty for the way I handled telling Bree about Jamie but now she was here with us and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

“Mama, I don’t blame you for telling me all of that then, I only wondered if you would tell me some of those stories again? Since the first time I really could have cared less.” She laughed and went to sit on a rock by the stream that ran through the woods.

I looked at her, surprised and sat down next to her on the rock, “Yes darling, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” My heart filled with joy; Bree grew up believing that Frank was her Father and while it was true that Frank helped raise her and he did love her dearly… Jamie was her real Father. The man who gave her the gorgeous red hair I now touched and ran my fingers through, the man who gave her the brightest smile I had ever seen. Jamie was a part of Bree, a part she was still discovering ever since she came through the stones only three years ago.

“Tell me about your wedding day then.” Bree held my hand in hers as much to steady me as her.

“Well, let’s see,” I thought back about the day I married Jamie, the day my life changed forever, "it was quite unexpected and If I’m being honest, I don’t remember the whole day.” I blushed and mimed drinking a glass. “I was scared!” Bree looked at me then and started to speak but I spoke before she could.

“Not of Jamie! Of course, he was the only thing keeping me upright. But I was already married, to Frank, and I felt I would never return to the stones on Craig Na Dun. Jamie would be able to tell you in more detail of that day; I do remember that night though.” I pressed my lips together and dared a glance at Bree, there was no possible way I was going to talk about my wedding night with Bree.

“It’s okay Mama,” she pressed me to continue, “you don’t have to tell me all the gory details but I want to know what it was like between you two.” She laughed and gave my hand a squeeze of encouragement.

“That night was a night I will never forget. Not because of that…” I laughed, “but because it was when I first began to love Jamie. I had held my true feelings back and didn’t even admit that I loved him until weeks, almost months after we were married. Your Father, Jamie,” I looked Bree in the eyes then, “is a good man. He married me to protect me, to keep me safe.”

“I know this is difficult for you to hear… but Jamie is the love of my life.” Tears threatened to spill over my cheeks, “He showed me a part of myself I never knew and he gave me you, our brilliant, beautiful daughter.” Bree pulled me close and hugged me, wrapping both arms around my back and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“I love you Mama,” Bree sniffed from my shoulder, “Seeing you with Da… the way he looks at you and you at him. Daddy… Frank, never looked at you that way. I know now why you told me about Da.” She sat up to look at me, “This is the happiest I have ever seen you Mama, I’ve never seen you smile so much!” Bree’s fingers traced along my cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“I only wish Bree, that I could have been the Mother you deserved… more present in your life.” I said.

“Oh Mama… you were a good Mother to me, still are. Where do you think I learned how to be a Mother to Jem? I learned from you, how to care for him, how to love him even when I don’t feel like it. I may have two dads,” we both laughed at that, “but I only have one Mother and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” I pulled Bree back to me and this time I laid my head against her shoulder.

We sat there, holding each other; years of regret lifted off my shoulders and I held my daughter, Jamie’s daughter, in my arms and knew every decision I had made that had kept me from Jamie for those twenty years was worth it, she was worth it.

“So what other stories about you and Da can you tell me.” Bree straightened her skirt and brushed  out loose leaves that had fallen in her hair while we had been sitting there.

“There was one time when Jamie had to hide under the water, holding his breath for almost two minutes and when he finally came up for air, he was stark naked!” I burst out laughing remembering the first time Jamie had brought me to Lallybroch. “The stone mill by Lallybroch was broken and so of course he had to fix it and I’m sure he was showing off. So he dives under the water and then four red coats come trotting along.” I told her story after story of the time I had spent with Jamie, days and weeks spent lying under the stars in the Highlands, holding each other for warmth. Our short time in Paris, where we had lost our first child Faith. Remembering the few years I had spent with Jamie, the many painful things that happened while we were together, made me appreciate what we had now, while it wasn’t a life free of trouble and there was an ever present threat of war, it was a life we had earned and fought hard for.

We talked until we noticed the light grow darker around us and we gathered the few herbs we managed to pick and set off in the direction of our home. “Thank you Mama, for telling me about you and Da. When you tell me about him, I see him through your eyes, I see him as the man who never gave up and who fights every day for the ones he loves.” Bree kissed my cheek and we walked the rest of the way back in silence, holding on to one another like we never had before.

[overwatchgayness]

The Demon’s Love 7

(Now it’s like im writing a whole book, i am sorry) Chapter 7: incidents

               Genji sighed, watching him walk away. He turned to Zenyatta. “I still don’t trust you, you’re a demon, demons should never be trusted.”

               “But you trust your brother, don’t you? He’s a demon. Hanzo seems to trust me enough to help, so why not you?” Zenyatta tried to pet the dragon again, the blue being huffing heavily but otherwise sat through the hand going through his fur and gently touching his scales.

               “I’ve known my brother all my life, he’s a human, not a monster like you.” Genji growled, his hand clenching on the ball he was holding. His dragon watched, confusion in its eyes before feeling the anger and hate, his fur standing on end before moving to growl at Zenyatta. “Monsters like you want nothing more than to kill people, you take away the people we love and cared about and leave us to defend ourselves against worse things. I will never forgive your kind for taking away the only thing that kept me and Hanzo happy.”

               Zenyatta blinked slowly, watching the other get upset. “If this is about your mother again, I sincerely don’t know what happened. Most humans who give their souls up for a favor end up in my realm, which means your mother is probably just a soulless demon walking around in the underrealm.” Zenyatta stated, steady gaze upon the boy. “hardly any human would do such a thing in fear of becoming a demon, which is why your family has caught my family’s attention. Not only has your mother and brother summoned a demon, but at least one in every generation.” He shifted on the ground.

“I only know this through names though, I have no idea why anyone in your family has summoned a demon or where they are at now. We do not keep records like that. But if we continue with this plan, maybe one day your mother could come back. She would still be a demon, as your brother will always be one but it is something to strive for instead of letting the past hurt you like this.” His gaze shifted to almost a caring one. “It’s a pain and a burden, I know. But if you continue to let this hinder you, it could lead to disaster for both you and Hanzo.”

The anger ebbed, pure logic hitting him hard as the other talked. Looking down at the ball he let it drop from his hand, the appendage moving up to his chest. “What did my brother do?” He asked, worried for the answer.

“Human’s say that a soul is what makes a person unique, but it isn’t true. A soul is what keeps you alive, the souls humans have are extremely capable of healing and mending to an extent. That’s why they are needed for our world, we don’t have souls and the more we collect, the more we learn how to use it to heal broken things, like Spirit. Spirit is the real thing that keeps you as you. Us demons are unable to take away a Spirit.” Genji had moved a bit closer, wanting to know more. “A Spirit is what makes you, you. Your Spirit’s name is Genji, and Genji is protective, loving, and headstrong. Spirit Hanzo, as he still is, is strong willed, vengeful, loving, and tactically smart. My spirit, as Zenyatta is harmonious, powerful, diligent, and medically smart. It takes years to earn the fourth sense, some work up to their fifth sense, a strong idle that makes you stronger than ever.”

Genji sat, his shoulders slumping. “But, what did he do, I shouldn’t be alive.” He whispered, looking at his hands.

“What he did, is give you his soul so you could live. I, have your soul, but it is extremely damaged and would shatter if a human held it.” He gently pulled out a small bag, nettle and palm leaves wrapped with elderberry vines. “I keep it here, it is my first soul, a precious one at that. I wish to find out a way to repair souls like yours. I strive to be able to heal it and return it to your body without it rejecting. But of course, this will take time.” He gently opens it, leaning over to show genji the inside, the small soul having cracks and small pieces missing. “This, is your soul.”

Genji looked, seeing how small it was and how fragile it looked. “You, you want to repair it? I thought, I thought you like, eat them or something for power.”

Zenyatta snorted, laughing as he gently pulled the soul back, securing it on his belt. “No, no. We use souls for their healing property! If a demon was to consume it, it would be because they were in a horrible battle and needed extreme care. It’s a blessing to us when a human gives us their soul. One soul could save two hundred lives.” He looked back up to Genji. “The only reason why a human who has sold their soul leaves is because they are unwilling to learn the ways of being one of us. Most humans think we are monsters, and we get that, but it’s not true. We are a lot like you, we live, we cry, we smile. We hurt deeply when we lose someone close to us.” He looked down, shoulders slumping as he thought of his brother.

Genji had the urge to comfort him, the sadness in the demon’s white eyes seeming to hurt him. “We lost our mother, it hurt Hanzo more than me but it was something I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I try.” He watched the demon. “Who did you lose?”

Zenyatta’s hand moved to his bracelet, fidgeting with it lovingly. “My older brother. He was an activist for peace between the human and demon realms.” He squeezed the object. “He was assassinated during a seminar.” His voice cracked. “He was the only one who wanted me to be me. He wanted me to continue with my practices, become a healer instead of head of the clan, he wanted me to be happy and to never let others tell me what to do. I cared for him more than I cared for myself. I want nothing more than to finish what he started, to make sure his legacy never dies.” Tears dripped from his face slowly. “I don’t want my brother’s death to be all for nothing.” He whispered.

Genji didn’t know he was crying until he had to sniffle. He wiped his eyes before moving to Zenyatta. “I won’t forgive your kind, but for you, I think I can make an acceptation. I would never be able to do anything without my brother. He is my everything, he’s all I got.” Genji whispered, his hand moving to rest on Zenyatta’s knee. “I’m sorry you lost him. But, you are still here to tell his story.” He smiled gently, looking over at the demon. “I know it’s still early, but maybe one day, this will all come together. You could start a home remedy business here, we could all live together in this weird house and you could be part of our weird family.”

Zenyatta smiled a little, looking to the younger Shimada, the gold coming back slowly to his eyes. “You have no idea how much that would mean to me.” He swallowed hard, Soba climbing into the demons lap and playing with a ball that hung around the others neck, biting at it gently. Zenyatta gently pet the dragon, taking comfort in the soft fur and playful bites.

“What the hell did I miss?” Hanzo was walking out in only a pair of jeans, his hair dripping in his human form, the short length of it a strange sight to Genji. It was the most, beautifully erotic thing he has ever seen, his body agreed, his mind telling him to cover his lower half quickly before the older man saw.

“I well, We were talking and it got all sad and weird and I guess, I guess we’re friends now.” Genji stumbled over words, his face red with embarrassment.

Hanzo raised his brows, toweling his hair before going over and grabbing the mask on the table. “You ready to go out? We need to get some food for this place and herbs for some things.” He had already made a list, holding it up. “I have a steady amount of money to last us a few years, but I’d like to keep our splurging to a minimum in case we have to move.” Hanzo handed the mask to Genji. “Will you be okay on your own here Zen?” He looked to the demon, Soba was already making friends with him, circling around as Zenyatta played with them.

“I think I’ll be just fine, your dragons like me and I’m sure they’ll keep me safe.” He smiles up at the two, his gold streaks brighter than before.

Hanzo nodded, turning to genji. “Come here, I’ll help.” Genji nodded, turning around and holding the mask to his face, Hanzo tying it in the back so it wouldn’t fall off. “I have to say, it looks good on you, Genji.” The soft smile was enough to make Genji’s stomach flip.

They headed out, locking the door to the house so no one would be tempted to get in. Hand in hand, they went to the market. They watched birds, kids screaming while masked women hushed and cooed the children quietly. The market was small, but had everything they needed; meats, vegetables, herbs, fish and other needed items for their home. But on their way back, Hanzo held too much in his arms to see the pot hole, his leg twisting and his whole body going down with force. A curse left his mouth but no searing pain, just startled movement as he hit the ground, making him drop the bags he held.

Genji had rushed over, placing his items down before helping his brother back up. A bent and a few snapped pieces of metal fell from his pant leg, hitting the ground with a soft ting. He tried to put weight on it, the leg useless and crumbling under him. “Crap, Genji, I can’t walk on it anymore, it’s too damaged.” Hanzo growled, looking to the bags. “Grab me a stick so I can use it to get home, you need to carry the bags though, I’ll take anything with handles.” He grumbled, being lowered to the ground again so Genji could find a sturdy stick.

[shianhygge-imagines]

{The Difference} Chapter 5: Uma [A Witcher Story]

The curiosity in the two men came back, “W’ho are you look’in for?”

Jazz bit her bottom lip nervously before answering, “The White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia.”

|Masterlist|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And what business would you have with the man?” A booming voice inquired with the opening of the wooden door. All three heads turned at the sudden intrusion, each face with a varied degree of expression. Gav, hilariously, went wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights. Todd seemed annoyed for the slightest of moments before his face went impassive, not wanting to give the newcomer a reason to reprimand him. And Jazz was a strange mix of exasperation and shock, as if she didn’t know if the sudden intruder in the conversation was welcomed or not.

But sure enough, the Bloody Baron strolled into the room, acting like he owned the place (which he did), glaring at Todd and Gav, “I thought I told you two to tell me when she woke!” Todd and Gav turned the slightest bit pale at being reprimanded, and Jazz’s gaze turned into a glare at the Baron’s tone. She was rather quickly growing fond of the two soldiers.

Jazz didn’t know what she expected when she was finally able to meet the Baron. Perhaps she expected a carbon copy of the man from the Wild Hunt game back on Earth. The tall northern man with salt and pepper colored hair decorating his head and his beard. The rotund man with a swollen face and blotchy red skin. And indeed, the Bloody Baron that entered the room was similar in some ways to the character from the game. Although instead of the blotchy red that decorated his face, it was a light pink blotchiness, and the beard, which was larger and fuller than the game, was more gray than black. His brows, thick, untrimmed, were large enough to nearly overshadow his small beady eyes. The northerners might have considered Philip Strenger handsome at some point in his life, but Jazz found him and his stench, undesirable.

He’s not a terrible man, by far. Soft on women, but he was still an alcoholic if the swelling of his body was anything to go by. Jazz sniffed noticeably and glared down at herself. Actually… I need a bath. How many days has it been? A sour smell was coming off of her body, pits especially, and Jazz found it amazing that Todd and Gav hadn’t passed out from the sheer intensity of the odor.

The Baron must have noticed Jazz’s sudden realization, and merely gave a jolly and good natured laugh, “Ah, but answers can wait until after you’ve had a bath, young lady.” The Baron opened the door and gave a mighty bellow down the hallway, “MAIDS! DRAW A BATH FOR OUR GUEST!” The lord of Crow’s Perch lumbered out of the room, “WELL? Quickly now!”

“Yes, my lord!” came several meek cries before feet were heard pattering up and down the halls.

Jazz moved to stand, the blankets falling off her body, and revealing that she had only been clad in her small clothes the entire time. Black boy shorts and black bra was all that covered Jazz, yet while Gav and Todd scrambled to cover their eyes, Jazz could hardly care less. “Oh?” the nearly naked woman gave a teasing smile. “Haven’t either of you seen a woman’s body before?”

“IT’S NOT DECENT!” Gav screeched from his seat, trying to scramble away from Jazz. “HAVE SOME DIGNITY!”

“My name is Jazz.” the woman snickered adoring the red blush that spread along both men’s faces under their hands. “And I’m to take a bath, so let’s go.” Jazz, feeling an uncommon confidence, sauntered with swaying hips towards the door.

“NO!” Jazz jumped at the shout from right behind, and suddenly she was wrapped in the bed sheets and lifted into armor clad arms. Brown eyes turned to look up, and Jazz was surprised to see that it was Todd carrying her out of the room, his green eyes decidedly locked on anything but her.

“AGAIN?” Gav cried out from the room, once again the one who wasn’t able to carry Jazz like a bride. “YOU SAID IT WAS MY TURN!”

“You’re too slow.” Todd teased, a smirk lighting up his normally grim face. But when he saw Jazz gazing up at him fondly, the smirk disappeared and he huffed.

Oh? Jazz mused in interest at Todd’s strange turn in behavior. Something eating at him. Interesting. I wanna know more. But Jazz left it be, knowing how annoying it was for people to pick at matters buried deep within, instead focusing on examining her surroundings as Todd carried her into the bathroom, where several maids were working on filling the bathtub with a mixture of boiling hot water from the fire in the corner and cold water being carried in from a source outside the manor.

With a clear of his throat, Todd had cleared all the maids and servants from the room. And when the door to the steaming chamber was firmly closed, only then did he gently set his charge down, careful to subtly make sure that Jazz had stable footing before letting go of his hold. The subtleness of his actions allowed them to go unnoticed by Jazz as she dropped the bed sheet and started to walk around the bathroom.

When you play a game like the Witcher, you never really pay attention to the insignificant details. You don’t really care where the bathrooms are, where the kitchen is, where the dining room is… Because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. Jazz thought, stopping to observe the lit candles on a small vanity. When you’re Geralt of Rivia… the White Wolf…  the only things that mattered were staying alive, killing harmful monsters, and finding Ciri. Romance and helping people were side quests usually. Mundane things were unimportant. A self-deprecating chuckle. If you live an exciting life, all you wish for is the mundane.

“The bars on the vanity are different scented soaps.” Jazz’s head turned so fast that she nearly got whiplash. Todd merely eyed the silent woman for a short moment before turning to leave the bathroom. "Everyone is going to lunch, I’ll go save some food for you.” He paused just as he was about to close the door, “No one should bother you, but just in case, there’s a knife in the cabinet. Your clothes were washed and are folded on the shelf.” And then he was gone.

Jazz waited until the footsteps had retreated before turning to the vanity once more, picking up the various soaps to sniff. It took several whiffs, but a dark purple colored soap appealed to Jazz the most, scented elderberries and blackberries. Staring into the mirror, despite the slight blurriness to her vision, Jazz could see the filth that caked her body and hair, causing her to frown, not liking that she’d have to sit in whatever filth came off her.

And then, from the side, Jazz recognized  a wooden seat and bucket next to a nozzle and pipe. Humming in curiosity, Jazz silently made her way towards the pipe, where she turned the nozzle. A rumble and rattle as the pipe shook before water spewed from the spout and into the floor drain. Pleased that there was a form of a shower, Jazz slipped off her undergarments and sat on the wooden stool, bending her head under the nozzle to soak her long black locks. Then, once she was satisfied that her head had been wet enough, Jazz went about scrubbing her scalp, using her fingernails to get the dirt. And she scrubbed until the water started to drain clear again before moving on to her face and body, getting as much dirt off as possible before turning off the water and standing up, the water running down her body and chilling her.

Finally satisfied that she wouldn’t be sitting in her own filth, Jazz carefully made her way back to the vanity to grab the berry scented soap, trying not to slip on the wet floor, before moving towards the bathtub and gingerly dipping her right leg in to test the temperature. When she found that the water was pleasantly hot, Jazz allowed herself to submerge her body in the water before kneeling to lather up her body with the soap. Being a woman from another world and time all together, Jazz took extra care to scrub her more intimate areas, knowing that such areas should be kept clean as often as possible. Once she had finished with her body did she move on to lather up her hair, wanting to clean the locks of the oils that clung to the strands.

When every part of her was cleaned to her satisfaction, Jazz allowed herself to lay back in the tub of soapy warm water, the water reaching her chin, and soap covering her body. In the silence on the bathroom, Jazz finally felt comfortable enough to sing again.

“Shizuka ni sora ni kaeru anata no sugata wo…. Namida ga kareru made zutto mitsumeteita… afureru kanashimi wa kesenai kizuato ni….. wasure wa shinai to chikatta… oreta tsubasa wo habatakase subete wo keshite miseyou….itsu no hi ka owari wo mukaeru saigo no kane ga nari yamu made…” it was really one of the only songs that Jazz could remember the lyrics properly off the top of her head. One of her favorite songs actually. The first Japanese song she’d ever learned to sing completely…. Jazz closed her eyes and hummed the guitar rift, sinking in the warm water a little more so that it covered over her mouth.

“Ummmmaaaaa.”

Brown eyes snapped open, and bubbles littered the water’s surface as Jazz let out a silent scream, sitting upright in the tub, the griffin medallion shaking from its place on her neck. She stared at the cursed man standing next to the bathtub for a few moments in shock, trying to calm her racing heart. And then she groaned and slid into the water again, eyes still focused on Uma. It was then that Jazz noticed the food splattered all over Uma, and she scrunched her face at his filthy appearance.

In her head, Jazz rationalized that as a jester for the Baron, it wasn’t surprising that they threw food at the cursed Aen Elle sage. And yet… Jazz narrowed her eyes at Uma, who hadn’t stopped staring at her, his eyes holding the intelligence that he had as Avallac’h before briefly fading away… And suddenly, Jazz felt bad, terribly so, that Avallac’h, even when cursed with nearly everything distorted, could understand every single thing that happened to him. And Jazz visibly winced and shifted her eyes away, holding onto the trembling medallion, How horrible it must have been for a sage of the Aen Elle to be humiliated in such a way. All to help the ancestor of a woman he once loved. Because Eredin wanted to humiliate Avallac’h.

Inwardly berating herself, Jazz rose from the cover of the bathtub and slowly got out, skin growing goosebumps from the sudden cold. Turning towards Uma, and not really caring that the sage was seeing her naked, Jazz held a hand out and whispered lowly, “Come, Crevan, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Yet Uma gave no indication of recognizing Jazz’s use of his real name, bumbling along and following Jazz’s motions purely by blind instinct. And Jazz could only sigh in disappointment, wanting some way to communicate with Avallac’h. Shaking her head, she brought it upon herself to clean the cursed Aen Elle, humming to herself softly. “If I told you this was only gonna hurt… If I warned you that the fire’s gonna burn… Would you walk in?... Would let me do it first?... Do it all in the name of love…”

[Twenty minutes later]

After cleaning Uma, and getting both him and herself dressed, Jazz gently took Uma’s hand and led him out of the bathroom, not having as much trouble as most people would… what with Jazz being a mere five feet tall. “Come, I know you don’t eat much, but you should attempt to eat something with me.”

As Jazz dragged the cursed elf along with her, she received various odd looks from the servants. Whether it be from her strange attire, the fact that she was walking around barefoot, or that her companion was a proper abomination. And quite honestly, Jazz didn’t care for the opinions of others. Besides, this was the closest to getting home that Jazz has been in more than a week.

It still didn’t stop Todd and Gav from screaming profanities when she walked back into her room with Uma though…

“WOT ARE YOU DOIN?”

“JAZZ! YOU CAN’T KIDNAP BEASTLY MIDGETS!”

“But he’s my friend!” Jazz chirped, kneeling down and throwing her arms around Uma in a hug that the cursed being surprisingly accepted.

Todd smacked a hand to his face and groaned. “Gav was already a handful, now I have to deal with you?”

“You know you love us!” Gav and Jazz chimed in with shit-eating grins on their face.

“UMMAAAA!” to Todd’s annoyance the cursed Aen Elle seemed to shriek his answer as well.

[jeantmelton]

Coronavirus: Keeping Yourself Well

* If you are a patient, you are able to order the products recommended below through your Fullscript account. If you are not a patient, you may be prompted to create a Fullscript account.

I’ve been getting a lot of questions from patients about coronavirus lately and it’s certainly been the topic of conversation among my family and friends. Everyone is wondering how worried they should be, how to support and protect their immune system and what supplies they need to gather. 

I’m going to give you some practical tips for both supporting your body and preparing at home. First, let’s cover some basics. 

What is coronavirus?

Coronavirus revers to a group of common viruses that can cause respiratory symptoms. Certain coronaviruses may cause the common cold, more seriously MERS (Middle East Respiratory Syndrome) or SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) and now COVID-19. COVID-19 refers to the respiratory disease caused by 2019 novel coronavirus, called “novel” because it is new and we don’t know a lot about it. 

COVID-19 is receiving a lot of press lately because it appears to spread more easily and cause more fatalities than other coronaviruses. COVID-19 originated in China and has now spread to over 141 countries with China, Spain, Iran and Italy reporting the most cases. At the time I wrote this article (March 17, 2020), there are 1,678 confirmed cases in the United States and 41 deaths according to the World Health Organization (WHO).

COVID-19 spreads from person-to-person through close contact, through respiratory droplets produced by coughing or sneezing and through contact with a contaminated surface. 

The most common symptoms are a fever and dry cough. In some, the disease can progress to pneumonia, and like other respiratory illnesses, the elderly and those who are immune-compromised are most at risk of complications and death. Luckily, COVID-19 appears to be quite mild in children. 

The Immune System

If you should happen to come in contact with COVID-19, a strong and healthy immune system is going to be your best defense. Your immune system is your body’s protective army. It has the ability to distinguish between what is “self” and what is “non-self,” such as a virus. When a virus is detected, the body makes antibodies to the virus. The body works to kill the virus by increasing body temperature (fever) and sending immune cells to attack the virus. Often, the symptoms you experience from a virus are from your own immune system doing what it is supposed to do. 

The immune system can be weakened by many common lifestyle choices including:

A diet high in refined sugar and processed food

Alcohol

Lack of sleep

Sedentary lifestyle 

Stress

Dehydration 

Smoking

Weak microbiome 

Nutrient deficiencies 

How To Boost Immunity, Naturally

The immune system can be strengthened by many of the root cause health behaviors that functional medicine relies on. To prepare your body for COVID-19 and to maintain good health in general, I recommend the following:

Eat a whole-food diet rich in colorful produce, nutritious fats and quality protein. This will help to cool inflammation and provide all of the nutrition your body needs for a healthy immune response. 

Skip the sugar. Sugar suppresses the immune system and can make you more susceptible to viral infections. 

Prioritize sleep. Now is a good time to practice a regular bedtime. If you have trouble falling and staying asleep, begin a relaxing nighttime ritual that includes turning off the screens for 1 hour before bed. Shoot for 8 hours per night. 

Stay hydrated. COVID-19 appears to like it when you are dry. Hydrating your body also hydrates the mucus membranes, which are your first line of defense for a virus entering your body. 

Move your body. If you are feeling well, keep exercising. Be careful that over exercise can also depress the immune response as it acts as a stressor to the body. 

De-stress. I certainly understand how anxiety-provoking a viral pandemic can be, however, too much stress and worry is not good for the immune system. Practice meditation, yoga, reading and other forms of stress management. Take a break from the media if needed. 

Quit smoking and limit or eliminate alcohol. Both are not going to do you any favors when it comes to respiratory illness.

Wash your hands. When washing hands, do so for a minimum of 30 seconds.

Keep hands away from the face. The mucous membranes of your face are easy entry points for bacteria.

Add in immune supportive supplements. Here are some of my favorite immune-building supplements that I recommend taking as prevention: 

Probiotics – Your microbiome is intricately linked to your immune system and healthy gut flora is key. Probiotic 50B from Pure Encapsulations is a potent formula helpful for immune support. 

Vitamin D – Dose according to lab work to ensure blood levels of vitamin D remain between 50-60 ng/mL. I like Liqua-D from Apex Energetics. 

Elderberry Syrup – A gentle, and powerful immune supportive herb that can be taken consistently to build immunity and dosed higher to shorten the duration of a viral illness. I recommend Sambucus Black Elderberry Syrup by Integrative Therapeutics. 

Once you click to purchase, you will be redirected to the dispensary sign up make and will be required to make an individual account to order.

Since prevention is truly the best medicine, please don’t underestimate the power of washing your hands! Because of how COVID-19 spreads this is especially important before eating and after touching public surfaces (door handles, touch screens, railings). Wash hands with soap in warm water for 30 seconds or if you are away from a sink, use a hand sanitizer with 60% alcohol.

Because COVID-19 is more harmful to the elderly and those with weakened immune systems, it might be worth rethinking travel (especially flying and cruise ships) and taking measures to isolate from public spaces if you fall into this category.  

Preparing Your Home

Because of the nature of COVID-19, people who are sick are asked to stay home as to not spread the virus to others. It can be helpful to plan ahead a little and make sure you have enough food and supplies should you need to quarantine for a couple of weeks. This doesn’t have to be extreme at all, but here are some things you might put on your list:

Frozen meat and fish

Frozen veggies and berries

Bone broth

Staples such as dry grains and dry or canned beans

Immune supportive herbs such as garlic and ginger

Herbal tea

Natural respiratory support (cough drops, herbal cough syrup, respiratory support, etc.)

Trizomal Glutathione to this for helping boost the immune system

Zarbee’s Natural Cough Syrup Immune

Any supplements or medications you regularly take

While we can’t be certain how far and wide coronavirus will spread, instead of sitting in stress and worry, be prepared. Prepare your immune system with gentle and nurturing lifestyle choices, be a little more vigilant with hand washing and get set up for a little staycation at home, should you need to. If you have elderly or immune compromised people in your life, you can help them do the same. Really, these are simple and practical things that we can do all of the time and now is the perfect opportunity to increase awareness and build some new health habits!

If you begin to feel sick, contact your primary care physician, but do not go in to your doctor or hospital. You doctor will be able to provide you with the next steps.

References

https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/situation-reports/

https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/index.html

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK279364/

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