#anyway. just be careful of your wording when discussing parallels :\

[light-lanterne]

what the heck have i just read,,,

guys, there are a lot of similarities between all the members of the party. they all are outcasts of some kind, they all share some general traits (hence why they became friends in the first place), and they're all going through similar experiences as a result of their involvement with the upside down and all that.

but they're all unique individuals who all have their own struggles and character arcs and none of them exist purely to give depth to the other -_- parallels exist to add layers to certain aspects of the character's stories and the overall narrative, not to reduce an entire character's journey to those similarities and then proceed to ignore everything else about them. that is such a shallow way to consume the source material we all enjoy :|

it's okei to like certain characters more, and it's okei to point out all the little hints the duffs have left woven throughout the entire show to hint towards what's going to happen next with certain individuals and plot lines,,,

just don't reduce the entirety of one main character's existence to some very specific moments and traits in order to justify or enrich someone else's arc >:\

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

The Tiefling Bachelors Taking Care of Sick! Reader Getting Treatment

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts, finished months ago, but I guess I never posted it? Oh well, it’s here now! 

No one asked for this but it came to me as I was getting infused the other day. I really wanted Zevlor to manifest out of thin air and hold my hand  😔. Anyway, without further ado… Here we go!

Characters: Dammon/Reader; Rolan/Reader; Zevlor/Reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

TW: Brief discussions of illness, some fantasy medical talk

Dammon- 

Dammon is probably the most fussy of the trio. He’s bumbling around the tent, ensuring you have enough blankets and water. Or do you want tea? Juice? Whatever it is, love, name it and he will fetch it for you.

He means to be helpful although his nervous waiting on you does create an air of anxiety in the room. 

If he gets too manic, the healers have to send him out on an ‘errand’, so that he can collect his nerves and so you have time to yourself. 

When he returns, Dammon is much calmer, having been cornered and given a pep talk by one of the elder tieflings or your companions outside. 

He’ll sit across from you, and distract you by showing you his latest outlines/blueprints for swords and lathes and such. 

If you’re particularly stressed, or truly not feeling well due to the side-effects of the treatment, he might even show you his jewelry designs. Dammon was, of course, planning to give them to you as a present after you’d finished your treatment, but in the meantime, he’d like you to keep them in mind to have something forward to look to. 

If you’re sleepy, he’ll just stay at your side while you rest, sketching in his book or making idle chats with the healer. 

Dammon excels at ‘parallel play’ kind of dates. He quite enjoys it when the two of you are each doing their respective thing within a shared space. He’s more than comfortable amusing himself while you just chill out right next to him. 

Of course, before you leave, he asks the healers a million questions, scrambling down all their answers. How long will this last? What side effects should you look out for? What happens if things get worse? He wants to be prepared after they take their leave, and he sees it as his responsibility to take care of you as you recuperate. 

He’s really so sweet, like a little puppy dog. He’s not always the most helpful, and he has a tendency to get in the way, but his efforts never fail to lift your spirits at the end of the day.

Rolan-

Rolan is such a stickler for being an oppositional brat all the time. He gives everyone around him whiplash by turning into the most overbearing parental figure. You’d think he’d been possessed if it wasn’t for that trademark smirk of his. 

He’s constantly making you drink. No, he doesn’t care that you’re not thirsty, the healer said to stay hydrated throughout the process. And no, he doesn’t care that it means you have to get up to pee every 15 minutes. Urinary frequency is a small price to pay! Now be a good patient and drink your chamomile tea without any more complaining, yeah?

He watches the healers like a hawk, mentally recording their every word/move. He’s not a cleric or druid, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely naive to healing magic. He wants to make sure whatever spells or potions you’re being given are up to his standard. 

And if the healing isn’t magical in nature... Oh boy, he’s going to be even more of a pill about it. He still hovers of course. But he also makes the occasional ‘helpful’ suggestion like: ‘I know a spell that could do that faster’, ‘Herbs are nothing compared to the power of the Weave’. The healers just roll their eyes and work around him. 

If he gets really grouchy, you’re gonna have to put him in a time-out. If not for your sake, then for the poor healers who are just trying to do their job. Rolan argues for a moment, but ultimately agrees, leaving to gather himself. 

When he comes back you can tell either Cal or Lia have spoken some sense into him, since he’s calmed down a bit. Rolan will sit with you, read to you, hold your hand if you beg ask, he might even perform a few tricks for you if you’re feeling up to it. 

He ushers the healers away as soon as they're done, wanting to just be alone with you. He puts up a tough exterior, but deep down he’s afraid. He cares for you so much. You, Cal, and Lia are his family, he feels it's his job to protect you, but try as he might he cannot protect you from your illnesses, and that hurts him deeply. 

You’ll need to comfort him once all this is all over. It’s as much an ordeal for him as it is for you.

Zevlor-

Zevlor is a worry-wart, bless his old paladin heart. His mind is always racing with endless possibilities- about the tieflings, about the grove, about you… It can be a lot for the commander to handle. 

But because Zevlor is a paladin and former hellrider, he has a good amount of experience working under pressure. He knows how to keep a level head and act on what is good for those around him, unlike what seems easiest to accomplish. 

He’s a very disciplined man, and he tries to get that discipline extended to you as you heal. He sets up a regime, for diet, exercise, and socializing catered especially to your needs and current abilities. He wants you to utilize this time to maximize your healing, and just let yourself trust that you are doing all you can to take care of yourself. 

He trusts the healers implicitly, knowing their expertise is much better suited to you and your current priorities. He’ll cater his regime around their recommendations, taking into accommodation your current feelings/moods of course. 

He writes out instructions for you to read while he’s away, busy tending to his duties. In the event he’s especially worried about watching over you, he’ll send Tilly or another one of his soldiers to check in on you periodically. 

Zevlor would love nothing more than to spend the entire day with you, keeping you safe in his embrace, but he’s wise enough to understand that even amidst these kinds of things, life must go on. He cannot abandon his duties as leader and you cannot abandon your life. 

Zevlor tries to maintain the status quo as best as possible, he doesn’t want your illness and treatments to entirely define your life, just as he wishes Elterel will not solely define his. 

Once all is said and done, he comes to find you, a warm broth in his hands. He settles down next to you as you sip your meal slowly, his tail coiling around your waist keeping you close to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, you don’t need to. It’s clear to you what’s in Zevlor’s heart. 

The two of you just sit silently together, enjoying each other's company, as you brace yourselves for yet another new dawn. 

I hope you enjoyed! 

If you like my work, please consider Buying Me A Coffee!

And most importantly, please Like and REBLOG! 

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan elle september issue cover story Q&A

ELLE: During this rest period, do you think about things that happened on the set?

Xiao Zhan: Of course, I remember a few days after the filming was finished, I had a dream that we were still filming, and the director and I were still discussing how to say that word? How to handle that scene?

ELLE: Do you actually miss the atmosphere on the set?

Xiao Zhan: I like it very much, because I like the feeling of everyone creating together and working together to get something done.

ELLE: When you first entered the entertainment industry and your popularity grew rapidly, you said that it felt a bit unreal and magical, but now you seem to be quite relaxed. How did this change happen?

Xiao Zhan: Rather than saying it’s unreal or magical, after so many years I feel that I haven’t had time to adapt to the fast pace at that time, so when I wake up from sleep, where am I today? What am I doing? I think it’s a process, just like when you first enter the workplace, everyone is very excited, "I’m here to work, please take good care of me", "I’m here, everyone get out of the way", "I can do it, I can do it". (Laughs) But after experiencing a lot of things, I feel that everything needs to be planned for the long term.

ELLE: In several interviews you mentioned that you like to play roles that "can convey energy". Why do you have such a preference?

Xiao Zhan: Because I think it is the life of the character. The kind of energy I am talking about is not just a single positive energy in the general sense. I mean the nutrition that can be subtle and silent. I believe that every character has a complete story line in his heart. This is what I like very much. As long as you dig deep, you can move people. I don’t like to call the villain a "villain", as if it is defined as a bad character from the beginning, but it is not. He may have his own difficulties.

ELLE: It sounds like “transmitting energy” is just a general term. Is it actually about understanding different people through performance?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, if we break it down to each character, they all convey different things. But if we say they are “good guys” or “bad guys”, I think that’s meaningless.

ELLE: So do you think acting is a form of communication?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, you can say that. I think it’s great to say that (acting) is a bridge to communicate with the audience. Just like when a play is broadcast, I will read some of the audience’s comments and impressions, and feel that they have a rich feeling about the work. When I see some comments that are exactly the same as my thoughts when filming, I feel very magical, as if this bridge is really connected. We don’t know each other in life, and we haven’t communicated, but he suddenly got my thoughts at the time, and I felt that, oh, acting is a very beautiful and magical thing.

ELLE: Do you watch some science fiction movies, TV shows, and literary works?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, I used to like watching "The Three-Body Problem". I have watched some science fiction movies recently, the American TV series "The Stars", and recently I am watching "The Replica". They are all about infinite flow and parallel time and space. Because I think there may really be parallel time and space. Every choice you make will split into a different parallel time and space.

ELLE: Do you imagine Xiao Zhan in a parallel universe?

Xiao Zhan: I really wonder, for example, is he still an actor? Maybe, is he still filming now? Is he still singing now? Or is he still a designer? Is he working for others or is he his own boss? (Laughs) Really, I really wonder.

ELLE: What do you think the future will be like?

Xiao Zhan: Wow, I think the world might return to its original state at that time, and the world might become a better place, and people would return to the most basic communication with each other.

ELLE: This is very interesting. Why do you think so?

Xiao Zhan: Anyway, at least now I am a little disgusted with the ubiquitous Internet. When we were young, when there were no mobile phones, we would chat while eating, and we would call our friends downstairs to play hide-and-seek and various games. I think that time was very precious.

ELLE: Will the profession of actor still exist by then?

Xiao Zhan: I think there will be. I believe that as long as life goes on, drama will continue. Because everyone needs an output, needs emotional resonance and sustenance, whether it is images or sounds. So I think that even if the world is destroyed, as long as there are still people, drama will definitely exist.

-END.

source

[daistea]

the extra comics always serve a purpose in developing the world and characters, and im like 90% sure the canaries racism comic is formulated to get two main things across

- establishing elven attitudes towards race-related social issues: certain topics are taboo and there is existing social justice discourse in place, which has changed significantly in the past few decades

- establishing the repercussions of the main aspect of mithrun's desireless character, that he's out of touch from 1. no longer having the desire to keep up with changing norms and 2. the fact that he was literally in recovery for 20 years with no contact from society. and 3. that he simply doesn't have a filter anymore and very likely no longer has a place in mainstream elf society because of it

so like. the way people read that comic and ALL they get out of it is "mithrun racist" instead of all the worldbuilding implications and character implications of all the canaries as well (fleki's attitude towards this is also really interesting because you wouldn't expect her to be a keyboard warrior but it makes sense given her age?), is insane to me. ryoko kui literally wrote a background comic which establishes that you can almost exactly parallel her universe's equivalent of racism to current-day social discourse and y'all are dodging the point just to continue oversimplifying one of the most complex and intricately written side characters in the franchise

FOR REAL!!!!

there’s lots of sides to this discussion. Because I am sleepy, I can’t really describe it other than “some people do be silly” and ya know, jokes going too far, jokes becoming truth in some minds, and so on. As my friends know, I am enjoying the word ‘flanderization’ as of late. Am I using it accurately? Not sure. I just like the word.

Mithrun is fascinating honestly. I won’t claim to be an expert, but I do not understand how some don’t want to pick him apart and put him back together again like a Lego set. Yea sure take Mithrun at face value…… yeah sure walk right past the Sistine Chapel without a care in the world…. whatever

But anyway, yeah. Congrats! You have earned a Yeah

My final say on the subject (for now) is that fandom is made up of a lot of different personalities, and they’re never going to do exactly what’s accurate/right/preferable. I know that’s obvious, but idk it helps me a lot when dealing with bad takes. Make and enjoy your content, speak your truth, and use the block button liberally 👍

[illegiblewords]

Serious talk about meta under the cut.

I don't know who might need to hear it, but fwiw mental flexibility is a huge part of analysis (and interacting with other humans lol). You need to be able to account for multiple possibilities when examining a work, or understanding a social exchange. You need to be able to separate what is objective fact from your own subjective interpretation and judgment. The most negative interpretation is not automatically the most worthwhile or true. Someone throwing accusations around in-line with their own worst interpretations does not guarantee those accusations are warranted. You are not a bad or stupid person for disagreeing. Shit needs to withstand scrutiny. I don't always strike the right balance myself. I do the best I can but I'm definitely not perfect. Tbh I'm not beyond pettiness either--although I try to keep that out of actual analysis lol. There have been times I've griped to friends privately or blogged about how I felt (sans tags, with spoiler blocks so people can opt out). I've griped recently. I'm bound to gripe again in the future. Some level of griping is inevitable imo and I figure no one is 100% immune.

All that said, even if someone’s take isn't canon AND even if it's something I really dislike--I'd personally rather people follow their passions anyway. Hands down. I could be in the middle of a rant and my answer would still be that the subject of my frustration gets to exist. I'm not the boss and odds are we're going with different versions in our own heads. Discouraging another fan from creating due to my preferences or narrative approach would horrify me. I've seen fandoms where gatekeeping like that killed the creative community and it was fucking awful.

Not everyone is confident in their own judgment. Not everyone faced with a pissed off person trying to use lore and accusations like clubs will feel okay continuing with their own vision. Elitism and manipulation (especially through rhetoric) can be present within analysis. People are not being taught how to recognize those things properly. Analysts aren't always aware or invested enough to even be careful. It’s legit easy to get caught up in ideas or feelings to the point of forgetting about other people’s, and adjusting to account for alternate approaches takes some work. For me at least, I think having a 'no insults' policy and being super careful when it comes to absolute claims (assertions not qualified by 'I think' or 'it could be argued') helps.

Anyway. Just because a person calls something ‘meaningless’ doesn't make it meaningless. Someone pooh-poohing an observation you made doesn't make your observation less true or important. Employing a literary term doesn't mean that individual actually understands the term, how it works, or how to apply it. Which is to say nothing of romantic chemistry or whatever. I encourage readers to extrapolate on this. ‘Shallow’ could apply as much as ‘meaningless’. Denying parallels exist by itself doesn’t actually negate those parallels. Your version of a character may not be the same as the fan next to you’s and that difference doesn't have to detract. There's more I could say on the subject (I've edited out a lot) but basically--just because another fan isn't into what you're doing doesn't automatically make what you're doing wrong, immoral, shoddy, or otherwise less.

Seriously, vet shit. Question the entire premise an analyst tries to establish then decide for yourself if it holds water. Turn over word choices and assertions in your head before deciding if they're appropriate. Do it to me too. I don't care if someone is the holy goddamn emperor of analysts. Just because a person says something is good or bad, true or false, whatever the hell doesn't make it so. Just because a person uses a technical term doesn't mean they're discussing it effectively. Quality of argument matters beyond the packaging it’s wrapped in. It's important to protect yourself from people whose priority is enforcing their own preferences, including dismissing things they aren't partial to.

I just don't want anyone shamed silent man. Not even people whose takes drive me up the fucking wall. Neither I nor any other analyst is an authority here. And there are people who are absolutely ready to take advantage of other people’s insecurities to assert themselves. Might not even be malicious, just indifferent.

For me, analysis feels kind of like uncovering a dinosaur skeleton. I want to share the cool and exciting things I find with other people. Sometimes I might be sorting out what my own thoughts and feelings are. It's also possible to examine why you're uncomfortable with something, or why you love something another person hates, while making very clear what is YOUR READING and not THE READING. Offering a variety of possibilities is very different from presenting yourself as the only correct one. One note at the end when everything else was insulting and intolerant is like a band-aid over a wound.

EDIT: As a last point, that I'm throwing in just-in-case. If anyone reading this thinks they may have overreached and done stuff I've mentioned + feels shitty about it… that's still not the end of the world. It’s okay. This is hard stuff to learn and I really don't think anyone's perfect at it. Worth the effort though. Just gotta take a deep breath, acknowledge you're a fallible human same as everyone else, and do the best you can going forward. Life goes on.

[clarinartiste]

Character analysis: the gargoyles as a reflection of Quasimodo

[This is based on the interpretation that the gargoyles are Quasimodo’s imaginary friends, and that their traits can give us some insight into Quasimodo and his own mind and personality]

Part 1 - Victor

Victor is the first of the gargoyles and the most sensitive of the three. Right from the beginning, he shows an awareness for Quasimodo’s feelings, immediately noticing that his attitude is despondent. He alerts Hugo to this too, and they both discuss what might be troubling their friend.

In our first real introduction to Quasimodo, we see him taking care of a baby bird and encouraging it to fly. Right away, we get a sense of his gentleness and how receptive he is to the needs of others. Quasi has a wonderful capacity for compassion, and I think that Victor’s sensitivity and emotional alertness is a reflection of this part of Quasimodo. Quasimodo is so inherently selfless that he takes care of others with no expectation of reciprocity—he genuinely just wants to help.

There’s something especially heartbreaking about the gentle and caring way that Quasimodo treats the bird, when he himself has never known that kind of love. Like, he’s giving to others what he wishes he had. This is further emphasized when Laverne echoes his own words to the baby bird, “No one wants to stay cooped up here forever.”

I also believe that Victor is representative of Quasimodo’s strong desire to know more about other people, their lives, their traditions, and their culture. When encouraging Quasimodo to go the Feast of Fools, he suggests “you could learn to identify various regional cheeses!” and “study indigenous folk music.” He places emphasis on the learning value of joining the festival, saying, “It would be a veritable potpourri of educational experience.” (side note: I love the pope pun here haha, combined with the little wooden figure)

In “A Guy Like You,” he has strong ties to cultural icons like the statue of David (at least, I think that’s what the animators are parodying here) and he wears a bow tie as he plays the grand piano by candlelight as Laverne sings.

Interpreting Victor as an imaginary friend, reflecting the traits of Quasimodo’s mind, it feels natural that Quasi also appreciates art and music. He loves human expression. He wants to connect with other people and understand how their minds work, how they explore their feelings and beliefs through their creations.

(also, on the part with the statue, I want to point out Victor timidly peeking after he covers the statue’s member. In some ways, I feel like this is a parallel of Quasimodo’s own bashful nature)

(also, in “A Guy Like You,” when Hugo says “You’ve got a look, that’s all your own, kid,” he does a picture-frame gesture towards Quasimodo with his hands/hooves, and Quasimodo draws back slightly and raises up his own hand in a gentle protest, again showing his shyness and reluctance to draw attention to himself)

Anyway, back to the point about appreciating art and culture—we see Quasimodo expressing his own artistry, creativity, and self-expression through his wooden figurines. Constructing these figures and imagining himself among the people really demonstrates his potential for empathy and his desire for connection. With his figurines, he lives vicariously through this miniature model of the city, desperately seeking out that kind of companionship and longing to join the Parisians.

In “Out There,” he wistfully sings, “All my life I memorize their faces / Knowing them as they will never know me” and he expresses a powerful desire to connect with them. He is deeply interested in their lives, their interests, and their personalities, saying how he is “Hungry for the histories they show me” and taking a curious, compassionate interest in them.

Quasimodo has a wonderful capacity for creation. When he shows Esmeralda around the bell tower, she marvels at the decoration and asks, “Did you make all these things yourself?” and Quasi softly replies, “Most of them.” He’s very humble in his response, and he hides behind a pillar as he says this line, again not wanting to draw attention to himself. Even around Esmeralda, the person who, at this point, has shown him the most kindness out of anyone, he feels really self-conscious and he is reluctant to step out into view.

Part of it might be his crush on Esmeralda and the ensuing nervousness, but I definitely think that he is also acting this way because of how Frollo raised him, constantly repeating the idea that he is a “monster” and really damaging his self-esteem. He only runs out from behind the pillar in a flustered panic when Esmeralda pulls the cover off of his unfinished wooden figures. But as he gets more comfortable around her, he introduces her to the bells and leads the way.

He cares deeply for Esmeralda—his feelings for her are compassionate and pure. This makes it all the more stressful for him when he fears she might be in danger, especially while seeing Paris burn and not knowing her whereabouts.

As the gargoyles look out, Victor frets, “I’m beginning to fear the worst” and he tries his best to be “stone-faced” when Quasimodo walks in, not wanting to upset him any further. He’s also the first to crack under pressure and and burst into a very emotional, tearful display when Quasimodo asks, “Is there any sign of her?”

Although Quasimodo is not crying in this scene, I feel like Victor is a representation of his most extreme inner feelings at the moment—catastrophizing the situation and harboring fears for Esmeralda. He genuinely just cares about her that much, and he knows that he would be devastated if anything bad happened to her.

Quasimodo shows himself to be a deeply emotional person, and cries the most out of any character in the film—crying with joy when he is crowned the King of Fools, crying with sorrow and humiliation when the crowd tortures him, crying with heartbreak when he sees Esmeralda and Phoebus kiss, and crying with grief when he believes that Esmeralda is dead. He feels with his entire heart, loving fiercely and experiencing the world with very powerful emotions. And I think that’s a really beautiful quality about him. His sensitivity is part of what makes him so strong. And his empathy for other people is the emotional core of “Out There,” his desire to live among society and know them, to find community.

Seeking companionship and love, he makes up the gargoyles as imaginary friends in his mind. By extension, he imbues them with some of his own personality traits. Victor as an imaginary friend reflects Quasimodo’s sensitivity, artistry, shyness, empathy, and emotional nature :)

[braceletofteeth]

hello~ thank you for answering my question about the significance of sunflowers in relation to KluenDao! i had picked up on Kluen associating sunflowers with Dao because of the art assignments -which is an adorable detail and one i love about their shared history - but my confusion stems from why the showmakers, writers, and producers chose to make it sunflowers as opposed to some other symbol.

like they could've gone with a moon motif because it would've tied Dao (star/celestial body) and Kluen (waves/tides) very neatly, for example.

although i do still think the sunflower motif work because Dao has such a happy/sweetly bright disposition and personality (sun/sunshine) and the way Kluen looks at and orients himself towards Dao is very like a sunflower would. *u*

but anyway, yes, thank you for replying in the tags anyway!! i love reading about everyone's understanding and interpretation of the meaning of symbols and reasons behind character choices in shows. and SIMM is such a lovely series so i'm glad there's still people who care about it/have things to say about it! <3

Hi again!! 😊👋 I'm so happy we get to talk about this with each other. I also got to the fandom at a time when the series had already finished airing, so there were not many people around still interested/willing to discuss it on my turn either.

I like the interpretation of the sun/sunflower representing one of them. I didn't find the right space to mention it in the tags, but I have a side theory that, back in high school, Dao might have used the sunflower to represent himself...? Because of the way he would follow Khabkluen around, like he was his sun? He didn't know that Khabkluen did the same thing, so, naturally, he always thought of their relationship as one-sided—like a sunflower that is attracted to the sun, but is inconsequential to the sun in return.

I don't know why the creators chose a sunflower especifically—although I do like to think it's beacause of Dao's lively personality—, but I believe I can at least answer why they did not go for a moon motif, nor used a(nother) celestial being for symbolism.

That would be, I assume, because of his actual name: the North Star. Daonuea is already represented by one celestial being; two would feel like the creator is trying to relate him to too many different celestial beings at the same time. A moon and a star, despite being placed in the same category, are not that similar when it comes to what they represent/are usually used as a metaphor for. I do think a moon would have been a better counterpart to Kluen's waves/tides, but when the author chooses a star for a name, they have to stick to the star motif, no matter how perfect that moon/tides parallel would be.

And Dao and Kluen do have the star thing going on between them. Just from the top of my head: there is the shirt that Khabkluen paints for Dao, with a big star in it, and Dao pointing himself as the North Star that never changes its spot (will remain by Kluen's side; with unchanging feelings) in the last episode. And Kluen does call him “star”, which only a few selected people are allowed to, while everyone else has to call him Daonuea, or Nuea, for a nickname...

But the thing is—that's still his name. Well, part of his name, anyways, but the point is—anyone could make that association. The people making the association and using the word might be special to Dao, but the word itself—and what it symbolizes—is not particular at all.

I think the creators wanted to include something more subtle, more personal. More intimate. Something that is only for the two of them.

Daonuea is the North Star for the world; Dao is a star for his special ones; but he's Kluen's sunflower.

One of my favorites moments of them is this little bit from one of the Sky in Your Heart extras, in which Kluen calls Dao “Kluen's sunflower” when he brings Dao a birthday cake and is just the two of them. I think this moment is the best to demonstrate the distinction I'm making here. Because imagine if, instead of just them, it was a room full of people, friends and family, all gathered together to wish Daonuea a happy birthday. If they all exclaimed, for example, “Happy birthday, our star!”, that wouldn't be weird. Because Dao is known as (a/the) star by everyone; it comes with the name. But if instead they said, “Happy birthday, our sunflower!”, that wouldn't make sense. That's an exclusive reference, used by Kluen as a term of endearment, and that only has significance because and when it's from Kluen to Dao.

Even if others wanted to refer to Dao as such, they wouldn't be able to say “sunflower” only. They would have to say “Kluen's sunflower” (like his friend on episode 7, when he says “Here comes your sunflower”). That's how entangled and restrictive it is, thanks to its history.

I can't tell you why they chose this flower to represent Daonuea. All I know is that, if the creators had made the thing that Kluen associates with Daonuea related to the same thing that everybody else associates with him (stars/space), it might not have hit as hard as it did being related to something that only truly impacted the lives of the two of them.

Anyways. I might not be making much sense. Still, I hope I've provided at least one or half of a reasonable explanation for your doubt 😊

Welcome to the fandom 💛🌻

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 18-13: Among All of Nature (在萬物之中) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 18-11

♡———♡

On the small boat drifting with the current, I carefully polished a small piece of white jade with a carving knife. The water was calm, but somehow, my dizziness was becoming more frequent, sometimes even making it impossible to hold onto anything.

Just like now, the half-finished jade pendant rolled onto the deck. Sariel, who was standing at the bow, picked it up.

You: Thank you.

I hurriedly reached out to take it, but he didn't return it to me, just held it in his hand and examined it.

Sariel: If you're not feeling well, rest. Why have you been rushing to make this thing all this way?

You: I told you, it's a thank you gift for you, of course I have to finish it quickly.

Sariel: I also said, there's no need. Since I'm helping myself, what is there to thank?

You: That's not necessarily true.

I solemnly raised a finger, putting on a scholarly air.

You: Think about it, after this experience, one day you will return to your own time.

You: After many years, you see me again at some Grand Prix, you won't still be giving the cold shoulder to an old acquaintance, right?

Sariel: Am I giving you the cold shoulder now?

You: Uh... not really.

Sariel: If there is, there is. Is it for no reason?

I deeply regretted digging this hole for myself, but under his questioning gaze, I could only bite the bullet and explain.

You: It's just that I did some things that went against your philosophy.

You: For example, you said that practicing martial arts at any time will hurt the body, but I am the kind of person who doesn't care about the time.

Sariel gave a light hum, indicating understanding.

Sariel: Then there's no room for discussion, my choice and his would still be the same.

You: ... Anyway, what I mean is, people are shaped by their experiences, and of course, so are the spirit race.

You: If you have different experiences, you will become a different person.

You: Many things will change because of this, and maybe what you help is no longer just yourself.

Sariel: Are you talking about parallel universes?

Wow, what an incredible word to come out of his mouth.

You: You know this term?

Sariel: On the train radio, they were just talking about this, it's called the theory of crossing, right?

When talking about the train and the radio, Sariel's tone paused, as if he was still not used to it. In his time, there was no Ling Island, so naturally he didn't know how to get to the island.

I took him along the same path that the current Sariel had taken me, first the Qingyun Station, then the train, then Shaqing Town, and now the small boat.

General Qi wore a fox mask, no one could recognize him, as for his attire, Shaqing Town had no shortage of exotic clothing.

I bought a bottle of carbonated drink at the station's canteen and tried my best to persuade him to try it. Sariel drank it without knowing why, but his only comment was "sweet."

There was no surprised reaction as I had expected, and I was feeling disappointed, but in the second before I turned around, I caught a glimpse of his nose wrinkling imperceptibly.

He held the carbonated drink all the way onto the train, and only started drinking it again after the gas had dissipated, and he looked quite satisfied, which made one wonder if Sariel had also had a period of liking sweet things.

The train used to have a gramophone, but I don't know if it was recently updated to keep up with the times, and it was replaced with an internal radio broadcast, broadcasting some news from the human world, and we happened to encounter a science fiction special.

I was still thinking, it's a pity that he couldn't experience the joy of listening to music while watching the scenery. I didn't expect that he had already listened to the radio, remembered it, and even drew inferences from one another.

As expected of Sariel. I sighed and continued what I was saying.

You: Well, crossing is a popular term for your situation.

Sariel: But it also mentions many other types. How can you be sure that I won't be in those situations?

Other types... I vaguely remembered there were ones related to wormholes, cosmic strings, parallel universes, single universes, and so on.

Sariel: Maybe after I go back, I won't remember what happened here.

You: That's also true.

No one knew what would happen after General Qi returned. It would be strange if, as soon as he left, the Sariel here suddenly had an extra memory.

But, I blinked and naturally extended my hand towards him.

You: Then just consider it not a thank you gift. Take it as a souvenir, let me give it to you.

I smiled harmlessly at him. He seemed helpless against this kind of pleading and returned the jade to my hand.

Sariel: Is your head still dizzy?

You: It's not dizzy to the point of fainting, but my head hurts a little.

Sariel: It hurts?

I looked at the vast waters and the scenery that hadn't changed much since earlier, and looked at him with guilt.

You: Actually, you brought me here last time. I just fell asleep and arrived.

Sariel: So?

You: So, I thought the boat would find its own way, but now it seems that's not the case.

Sariel was silent for a moment, seeming to have gotten used to something.

Sariel: Where is your box with the map?

You: It's useless here...

Sariel pursed his lips, wanting to speak but stopping. In the end, he didn't say anything and walked straight to the bow.

The wind and water seemed to sense his movements, stopping for a second, and then starting to flow again. Sariel closed his eyes, the sunlight outlining his silhouette, making him appear almost transparent.

Sariel: I sense it, in this direction.

He shifted the tip of his foot, pointing in a direction. As soon as his voice fell, the boat started moving.

I didn't have time to observe the surroundings carefully last time, but this time I realized that there were many obstacles set up on the waterway. Every short distance, we would encounter fog, waves, or waterfalls.

Sariel was not hindered by them at all. He solved the mechanisms with a few breaths, and I couldn't help but feel curious.

You: Have you seen these mechanisms before?

Sariel: I haven't seen them. But I can understand how to use spiritual power to make them work.

Sariel: If it were me, I would probably design it this way.

You: Hmm... What do you think of the Qingyun Station we saw before? Just talking about its architecture.

Sariel pondered. A wave came, and he used his hand as a blade, lightly slashing in the air. The several-meter-high wall of water parted to both sides, making way for a passage.

Sariel: It suits my preferences.

It really was like that.

Qingyun Station was built by Sariel, so could these similarly evaluated mechanisms also be related to him?

It stands to reason that I already knew a lot about Sariel, and even his past self came to my side by chance to fill in the gaps for me.

But Sariel was an iceberg-like person. The closer you got to him, the more you knew, the more you would find that there was a more vast past beneath the surface.

It's not bad either. Thinking this, I leaned on the side of the boat. The outline of Ling Island had already appeared in the fog. Was it because of seasickness? Why did I feel my head getting more and more dizzy?

-

The small boat reached the shore. Sariel securely tied the rope to the wooden stake and reached out to pull me up. I had wanted to look cool and lend him a hand to leap over the edge, but then another wave of dizziness struck me. My feet slipped and my head and shoulder slammed into his armor.

You: Sorry. Have I been using my talent too much lately...?

I tried to stand up straight, but my legs were wobbly and trembling. My cheek rested against the ice-cold armor, rising and falling with Sariel's breathing.

He sighed, looking at the high steps in front of him, then at me.

Was it my imagination, or was the expression on his face strange? It was like he couldn't bear it, but also like he was reluctant.

Sariel: I'll carry you.

Sariel held my shoulders, slowly helping me stand up straight, leaning against the railing by the water. Then he turned around and squatted down.

His silver-white braid was casually brushed to one side. He didn't squat too high or too low. I only needed to lean forward slightly to lie on his back. How could it be so perfect, as if he was very familiar with this?

Sariel: Hurry up.

I was still in a daze when the urging came. I hesitated for a moment and hugged his neck.

I didn't even have the strength in my neck, so I had to rest my face on his shoulder. The armor here had a bit of leather material, which was softer. I vaguely recognized the pattern as a fox beast head.

I suddenly thought of something and couldn't help but ask him in a low voice.

You: Do you think there will be a mark on my face when I get down later?

Sariel had already stood up and carried me up two steps. His footsteps were steady, and the hem of his iron clothes rustled.

Hearing this, he stopped again, silently put me down to sit beside him, and took off the shoulder and chest armor that he never took off, even when sleeping.

When we set off again, several pieces of armor were strung together with thin ropes, which I held in my hands, hanging in front of his chest.

Only then did I realize that this armor was so light, swaying gently with his steps. The sun shone from behind, and our shadows were stretched long, extending far towards the top of the mountain.

A little longer, and maybe the shadows would reach our destination before us. I watched with interest and suddenly heard a soft voice.

Sariel: Give me the jade pendant you made.

You: So suddenly? I haven't finished it yet. I'll give it to you when it's done.

Sariel: I want to use it now.

He paused.

Sariel: Is that not okay?

Sariel tilted his face slightly, a touch of gilded light lingering in the corners of his narrow eyes.

Maybe it was his unusual urgency, or maybe I simply couldn't say no to those eyes. In short, I nodded generously and readily.

You: Okay, since you like it so much, I'll let you have it for a while.

I took out the jade pendant, which was still not very pleasing to the eye, from my bag.

You: Where do you want to wear it?

You: Why not hang it on the tip of your gun? There's only a red tassel there anyway.

Sariel: It will get stained with blood there, and it's easy to lose on the battlefield.

You: Then hang it on your waist? Just like those noble sons in costume dramas.

Sariel: ... I don't like to wear these jingling things on my body.

I pretended to be angry.

You: This is not okay, that is not okay, I'll do as I please.

But having said that, I still looked at the places he didn't refuse.

For example, his high ponytail.

This time I didn't ask, and gently tied the jade pendant to the top of his hair. There were a few strands of silver hair pressed by the mask strap, which I also pulled out.

Sariel should have felt it, but he didn't resist, letting me do as I pleased. I couldn't control my balance and my center of gravity was unstable, so the hand supporting my leg bent tightened a little.

You: Alright, a unique headdress. Sariel, do you think it looks good?

Sariel: Unless my eyes are floating in the air, I can't "feel it" right now.

He said so, but he still shook his head back and forth, as if feeling something.

Sariel: It can't be worse than waking up to find my head full of wildflowers.

You: Was that also done by your sister?

He didn't say anything, which meant yes.

And he seemed to regret telling me. I imagined the scene and couldn't help but laugh.

Sariel's footsteps slowed down a little, as if to listen to the echo of my laughter. I massaged his shoulders and back.

You: Are you tired? I'm much better. Shall I get down and walk by myself?

Sariel: ... What would you do?

The first half of his sentence was too soft, and I didn't hear it clearly.

You: What?

Sariel: If Sariel really died, what would you do?

Sariel: Would you still be like you are now?

I didn't have time to ask him why he suddenly said this. Death, the death of Sariel, no matter how many times I heard this word, it made my heart feel like it was being cut by a knife.

At first, this wound brought unbearable pain, but now, I could already hold back my tears.

Why, I thought, maybe it was because of the question he asked. I had also asked myself countless times during this time.

Sariel said that decaying plants would nurture new flowers. He also said that life and death is a cycle, we would eventually meet again. Being with him, I gradually learned to face death. I pressed my heart and slowly said.

You: I don't know if I can still be like now.

You: There were several times when I felt like I was about to lose him. I still clearly remember how I felt at that time.

You: Maybe it was from then on that I understood that no matter what, I couldn't let him leave.

General Qi didn't speak or move. The wind blew the shadows of the trees, casting fleeting patches of light and shadow on his face.

You: So, deep down in my heart, I actually decided this.

You: As long as he lives for one more day, I will spend one more day laughing with him, but if he dies---

You: I will also continue to find a way, until the last moment of my life.

I had never spoken those words so clearly, getting louder and louder towards the end, as if hoping that the person in the distance could also hear me. Sariel didn't respond for a long time, and I didn't want to face this silence.

You: How about you? If someone important to you... Sigh, this assumption isn't good, forget it, forget it.

He started walking again, and just when I thought the question and answer session was over---

Sariel: I'm the same as you.

-

Sariel stepped onto the last step, as if deliberately calculating it so that I wouldn't have the opportunity to ask him any more questions.

The familiar courtyard gate was right in front of us.

You: We're here...

On the stone table in the courtyard, a small lizard was lying there, seemingly disturbed from its sweet dreams by the sound of footsteps, groggily propping up its head.

Its eyes narrowed, its gaze falling on me and Sariel. In an instant, its expression was like it had seen a ghost.

Qishe: Lao, Lao Qi, why are you dressed like that?!

Qishe: Aren't you in the house, who's in the house? Oh my god---

He cried out miserably, probably because he saw a tall, thin figure walking out of the house.

Present-day Sariel was dressed in a white suit, his hair slightly messy and hanging down over his forehead.

He looked across the courtyard gate at the man in armor and mask. With just one glance, his eyes shifted to me.

I struggled slightly, signaling to General Qi that I wanted to get down, but he didn't let go, just looked straight ahead.

*In scenes where both Sariel's are present, I'll use General Qi to refer to the past-general, and Sariel to refer to present-day Sariel.

General Qi: Finally, I've met you.

Sariel must have sensed something, his hand reaching up to touch the end of his hair.

Sariel: Who are you?

General Qi: You'll know soon enough. I have something to say to you alone.

Wait a minute, finally, he had something to say? Wasn't it me who had something to say? And why did he have to say it alone? Did he have other things to do here?

Their conversation confused me, or rather, I was already dizzy. No matter how hard I tried to stay awake, I had reached my limit, and the drowsy darkness still descended.

-

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the unfamiliar yet familiar beams of the ceiling. Familiar because I had been here before, unfamiliar because it had been so long.

The feeling of weakness was still there, but my mind was exceptionally clear. I turned my head to see Sariel sitting at the table reading a book, a bean lamp flickering beside him.

The end of his hair softly touched his neck, with a furry edge in the candlelight. It was the Sariel of this era. Perhaps due to the warm light, there was even a little color in his face.

Tears flowed down involuntarily. I had been terribly worried all this time, but I didn't dare to think about it along the way. Now that I finally saw him, at least he was still sitting here properly.

I thought this kind of crying was silent, but Sariel still sensed it. He looked up, put down the book in his hand, and came to sit by the bed.

Sariel: Falling into a deep sleep as soon as you arrive, and crying like this after waking up, you really are getting stranger and stranger.

I propped myself up. There was a steaming porcelain basin on the bedside table. Sariel took out a bowl from it and handed it to me.

Sariel: Drink it.

I took it and gulped it down.

Sariel: Not even going to ask what this is?

You: If I ask, you'll say I have too many questions. Anyway, you won't harm me.

Sariel choked a little, his brows furrowed, staring at me as if he didn't recognize me. I quickly put on a well-behaved look.

You: Um... what is this?

Sariel: ...

I put on my most inquisitive look, which made Sariel turn his head away in disgust.

Sariel: Mr. Kui's prescription. He said there's nothing else wrong with you, just that you've exhausted your mental energy too much.

Sariel: Why is it that every time we don't see each other for a while, you manage to wear yourself out like this?

I pursed my lips on the edge of the bowl and muttered softly, but just loud enough for Sariel to hear.

You: Then you should see me more often, wouldn't that be better?

Then, without waiting for Sariel to answer, I pushed the remaining half bowl of medicine in front of him.

You: You drink it too.

Sariel: I don't need it.

You: You do. You have dark circles under your eyes. Have you been waiting for me for a long time?

Sariel snorted softly.

Sariel: If I had known you were going to sleep for two days, I definitely wouldn't have waited here.

??: What a joke.

A loud voice came from outside the door, accompanied by the crisp sound of a cane hitting the ground. An old man with a gray beard was standing there. I recognized him as Mr. Kui, whom I had met once before.

Mr. Kui: It's as if no one told you that she would sleep for at least two days.

You: Mr. Kui, thank you.

Hearing this, Mr. Kui glanced at me, then at Sariel's deliberately averted face, and seemed to be in a good mood.

But jokes aside, there were indeed faint dark circles under Sariel's eyes. I grabbed his sleeve, crumpling the small piece of fabric into a ball.

You: Sariel, you should go and rest.

You: Your body hasn't actually recovered, and it's still deteriorating, right?

Sariel: You know.

Sariel's reaction was calm, as if this was something we both knew, but only now were we talking about it. Strangely, it made me feel calm as well.

You: Yeah, I kind of guessed.

The undried tears were about to flow into my mouth, so Sariel handed me some tissues.

Sariel: Are you going to accuse me of hiding it from you now?

I wiped my face, remembering the time when he said he was going to resign, and the two of us had made a fuss in his office. I shook my head a little embarrassedly.

You: Not this time.

You: This time it's because I was so scared, I didn't even dare to ask you properly.

I smiled at him, and Sariel was stunned for a moment, a tiny curve appearing at the corner of his eyes. Now that everything in the past had been said, I was going to share the good news with him.

You: I found a way that might be able to cure you, to cure the deterioration.

Mr. Kui let out an "Oh?" and came closer to listen. This was the second time I had described NOVATEN Pharmaceuticals' research results, and I was much more proficient now.

When he heard about Factor A and Factor D, Mr. Kui was first bewildered, then wore a thoughtful expression. Could this mean that there were no similar research results on Ling Island yet?

You: So...

I looked around and suddenly realized that the most important person was missing.

You: Where is the person who came with me? Can we let him come over?

You: Sariel, I know this is unbelievable, but he and you--

Sariel: That person is gone.

Gone?

You: What do you mean gone? Will he be back later?

Sariel: No, he disappeared.

You: Disappeared? Where to?

The room was silent. Disappeared, there was originally no destination, and it was most likely an instantaneous thing, just like... when he came.

I had an answer in my heart. The Sariel of that era always had to return to that era. This was something destined from the beginning.

If that was the case, the scroll was already shattered, how could I call him over again?

Why at this time? I felt myself wavering between calmness and anxiety. The determination to be strong just a second ago seemed to be only because there was hope.

You: What can we do... It won't work without him.

Unconsciously, the edges of my nails dug arc-shaped marks into my palms. Sariel grabbed one of my wrists.

Sariel: Nothing won't work. There is more than one way to treat my deterioration.

You: But what else is there?

If there was, it should have been used long ago, right? I looked at him anxiously, and Sariel lowered his eyelids.

Sariel: There is a seal in my body, sealing a large amount of spiritual power.

Sariel: If I release them, I can live for a long time.

You: A seal? I've never heard you mention it. Who sealed that spiritual power?

Sariel: I don't know. Before the deterioration, I didn't think about it.

Sariel: But the Grand Elder knows how to undo the seal. I've already asked him to arrange the ritual.

Seal, ritual, all words I had never heard before, but things had taken a turn for the better. I looked around blankly and joyfully, and found a surprised look on Mr. Kui's face.

Mr. Kui: Sariel, have you decided?

Sariel: Yes.

Sariel answered quickly. His knuckles were still resting on my wrist, brushing over the blue veins of my pulse, lingering there for a moment, then intertwining with mine.

Sariel: Don't worry, I won't die so easily.

His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it was like something scorching hot, branding itself in my ears.

In contrast was the coolness of his palm.

It'll be alright, he had said similar things. Rather than a promise, it was more like a comfort. Now, something was different, but his positivity was undoubtedly a good thing.

Mr. Kui said that he still had something to discuss with the Grand Elder and left first. I temporarily put aside my chaotic thoughts, relaxed, leaned against the head of the bed and talked to Sariel.

You: Sariel, so before that person left, did you recognize him?

Sariel: Recognize what?

You: Oh, that silver-white hair, armor, and voice, don't you think it resembles someone?

Sariel: Resembles me. You can be more direct, or rather, it was me.

So he had also seen it. Could it be that General Qi disappeared because two identical people couldn't meet, even with a mask on?

You: Why don't you seem surprised?

Sariel: Being with you, there are too many bizarre things, I'm used to it.

You: Then do you have any other thoughts? For example, seeing your youthful self from a thousand years ago, do you feel nostalgic?

Sariel: No matter how young he is, he's still hundreds of years older than you.

Sariel seemed to remember something and paused.

Sariel: Was it you who tied that jade pendant on his head?

You: Yes, it was me. Does it look good?

Sariel: It's ugly. How come I don't remember being so easily manipulated before?

You: I also didn't know that you were so agreeable before.

You: Can you remember that feeling again?

I was looking forward to being able to manipulate him in the future. Sariel looked away.

Sariel: No. Since you're so satisfied with him, why don't you find a way to send yourself back to that time?

I blinked, and blinked again. No way, Sariel minded my attitude towards his past self? I wanted to laugh but didn't dare to, lowering my head and grabbing his arm.

You: I don't want to. I still have Pristine, and I still need you to teach me design.

You: I also want to enjoy the sense of accomplishment of successfully manipulating the current you -- Ouch.

My head was knocked.

Sariel: You should go back to that time. You're so noisy, I can't stand it.

I shook my head vigorously and held him tighter.

You: But I'm really thinking, if only I could have been born with you and lived with you until now.

You: Riding horses and practicing spearmanship with you must be very interesting.

Sariel: Riding horses and practicing spearmanship, it's not impossible now either.

Eh? I looked up in surprise. There wasn't a trace of jest in Sariel's eyes. He was serious.

You: Then it's settled, after you recover?

Sariel: Yes.

The feeling of being filled with anticipation for the future was probably what I was feeling right now. Overjoyed, I suddenly wondered if the spirit horse had gone back with General Qi, and also the words he had to say -- I looked at Sariel.

You: By the way, didn't he say he wanted to talk to you alone? What did you talk about? Did you reminisce about old times?

Sariel: What old times could I reminisce about with myself?

A gust of evening wind blew past, and the lamp in the room went out. Sariel got up to relight it, his voice coming from the darkness.

Sariel: Besides, he disappeared very quickly.

You: Hmm... Is that so? I thought he would tell you about what happened in these two days.

You: Then I'll have to do it myself.

Sariel had already forgotten whether he had answered "Okay" or not. All he knew was that when he sat back down by the bed, the girl had already started her story.

She spoke animatedly, gesticulating, full of strange adjectives. Sariel remembered teasing her about being able to be a screenwriter, which might not be unfounded.

There was just one thing, she spoke too meticulously. If it really were a script, it would definitely be a running account filled with inner thoughts, and the protagonist it pointed to was always only one person.

Sariel, Sariel, Sariel. The three words echoed repeatedly in his ears, giving him the illusion that it wasn't his own name.

The one who always pointed a spear at others shouldn't be him, and the one who bickered with children shouldn't be him either.

The one who didn't reveal a single truth, making her repeatedly ponder, shouldn't be him either.

As the girl spoke, she couldn't resist her drowsiness and fell asleep. Sariel was able to restrain his calm and indifferent expression, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his golden eyes were filled with confusion.

He had lied. The person from the past, before disappearing, had said many things, one of which was, "If you die, she will die. This is destined fate."

The summer insects in the courtyard were still chirping. When the autumn wind blew, they would die.

-

Is this fate? The life and death of everything in the world must always be connected to something. But, for this silly bird beside him, what he wanted was for her to be forever free.

Waking up, I felt the last bit of physical discomfort disappear. Mr. Kui brought news that the ritual would be held seven days later.

He also brought with him a kind of dark black herbal medicine. Sariel had to take the decoction made from it every day to prepare for the ritual.

But I didn't know that this preparation would be so agonizing. On the first day, except for the medicine, he didn't eat or drink. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he couldn't. Even if it was just water touching his lips, he would cough uncontrollably.

On the second day, his nails and skin were all cracked. When he blinked, his silver-white eyelashes easily fell off, landing on the pale red wounds on his arm.

On the third day, I didn't see him. He closed the door of the room, not letting me in, urging me to do my own things.

At midnight, I heard a slight bumping sound from the other side of the wall. I ran to the corner and squatted down, calling his name.

After calling many times, the bumping sound gradually stopped. After a while, there were three "tap, tap, tap" sounds on the wall. I knew it was him asking me why I hadn't gone to sleep yet.

On the fourth and fifth days, Sariel began to improve. Despite the ordeal, he still stood tall and straight when he was trimming the flowers and trees in the courtyard in the morning.

The scabs on his arms quickly fell off, replaced by curved and spreading black lines, forming complex totems.

I sat face to face with him at the stone table, which was only half left, and took a brush to trace these black lines, adding a few pairs of cute eyes and ears by the way. After I finished drawing, I was a little scared.

You: Sariel, do you think my random drawing will cause the ritual to fail?

Sariel: How could it cause the ritual to fail? Summon a...

Sariel carefully identified it.

Sariel: Is this four-dissimilar thing you drew a tiger?

I was amused by him and fetched water to wash away the ink.

-

After washing the ink off, when I went out to pour the water, I found a little spirit race boy lingering outside the courtyard gate, looking hesitant.

You: Who are you? Are you looking for someone?

He was startled by me and stammered when he spoke.

Little Guard: I, I'm a guard on the island... here to find General Qi.

My first reaction was that General Qi had already left, but seeing the little guard's appearance, he should be looking for Sariel.

I brought him into the courtyard. Sariel was putting down the sleeves I had rolled up and frowned slightly when he saw him come in.

Sariel: Are you the guard who was guarding the stone wall last time?

The little guard's eyes widened, filled with surprise and joy.

Little Guard: General Qi, you still remember me!

Sariel: I'm not a general. Just say what you have to say.

The little guard hurriedly untied the cloth bag he was carrying and spread it out on the table. Inside were all kinds of medicinal herbs, mixed with a fragrant aroma.

Little Guard: These are the herbs I usually gather from all over the island. They can, they can calm the mind and strengthen the body.

Little Guard: I, I want to thank you. You let me go for medicine last time, and now you're willing to come back to save us all.

Sariel: I'm not here to save you.

The little guard was stunned for a moment and hurriedly spoke.

Little Guard: But I heard the Grand Elder say that you're going to hold a ritual to restore your power --

Sariel: I'm holding the ritual just to survive, it has nothing to do with the spirit race.

Sariel: It's more like I'm using you.

Now even I was a little surprised. Although Sariel was always sharp-tongued, he rarely spoke with such intense emotions.

He glanced at the herbs on the table again, his expression indifferent.

Sariel: I see. Take these back. Don't bring things from Ling Island here.

The little guard's mouth deflated, as if to cheer himself up, he clenched his fists.

Little Guard: I won't take them back.

He raised his head, but still didn't dare to look at Sariel, only daring to stare at the buttons on his clothes.

Little Guard: General Qi, last time I couldn't beat you and was going to fall and get hurt, but you didn't let me get a single scratch.

Little Guard: Anyway, I won't take them back.

After saying that, he turned and ran out.

Leaving the two of us in the courtyard, speechless as we looked at the things on the table.

After staring at it for a long time, I suddenly noticed that there were small dark brown marks in the pattern of the cloth bag and on several herbs, like dried bloodstains.

You: Is this blood?

Sariel: Yes.

Sariel picked up an almost transparent flower and cupped his hand, blocking most of the sunlight. In the dimness, the petals emitted a soft halo.

Sariel: The places where these herbs grow are either on cliffs or in deep forests. He shouldn't have gone there.

You: But since he went, accepting these might actually make him happy.

Sariel: How do you know?

You: Put yourself in his shoes.

I smiled at him, but it was a little forced.

You: And, back in Wan Zhen, I thought you had already...

...already been able to naturally accept everyone's kindness.

I sighed inwardly and didn't say it out loud, but Sariel seemed to have already anticipated what I was thinking.

Sariel: It's different.

Sariel: Here, I can't save them, and I don't intend to, so I shouldn't give them hope.

I couldn't help but think of the night a few days ago, when the general in armor said to me, "What kind of general doesn't protect his people?"

He clearly had the same bright eyes and sharp jawline as before.

-

On the sixth day, the Grand Elder sent a message to say that the place for the ritual was ready. We went to have a look. To put it less formally, this was the so-called pre-exploration.

When the Grand Elder saw me, like Mr. Kui, he just glanced at me. I suspected that they still wanted to maintain the rule that humans couldn't enter Ling Island, so they had to pretend I didn't exist.

Behind him, deep in the dense forest, were mottled stone pillars and stone walls covered with symbols and totems, similar to those on Sariel's arms.

They surrounded a similarly stone-made low platform. When the moon reached its zenith or the sun rose, the light would pass through the gaps in the dense forest and shine on the center of the low platform.

During the ritual, Sariel would sit quietly there, waiting for the runes around him to resonate with his body.

It was said that once the ritual began, the gaps between the stone pillars and stone walls would be filled with thick fog, and people outside would no longer be able to see inside.

Naturally, the people inside wouldn't be able to come out either, unless the ritual was completed or failed.

How long would it take? No one knew. I imagined Sariel staying inside alone.

You: Is there any way I can accompany you?

Sariel: No.

Sariel: You just stay at home. You can't get in anyway.

You: That won't do. At least I want to be the first person to welcome you out.

I held his little finger that was hanging down by his side and shook it a few times, as if making a promise with him. His knuckles were a little stiff. Perhaps because there was hope, it was inevitable that he would also feel anxious.

-

Back home, while Sariel was resting in the house, I asked the little lizard to find me a lot of flowers and plants of various colors.

Following the method Sariel had taught me before, the lizard and I worked all afternoon, preparing several kinds of pigments. Qishe wiped the non-existent sweat from his brow.

Qishe: Little sister, why don't you ask Lao Qi for help? He knows much more than me.

You: Do you even need to ask? Of course, I can't let Lao Qi know.

He pouted, looking very sad.

Qishe: Little sister, you've been with him for so long, you even speak like him now.

I laughed and subconsciously glanced at the house, lowering my voice.

You: Qishe, Sariel is going to undo the seal tomorrow. I want to cheer him up.

You: Do you have anything you want to say to him?

The little lizard tilted his head and thought for a moment.

Qishe: As for words, it's always the same old things. But there's one sentence I'm really embarrassed to say to his face.

You: What is it?

The little lizard looked at the railing of the courtyard. There was a scale placed on it at intervals, forming a shimmering line.

Qishe: Actually, I had already given up hope and just wanted to live out these days well.

Qishe: But seeing Lao Qi like this recently...

Qishe: I... kind of want to try and live on.

-

On the morning of the seventh day, before dawn, I stood by the stone wall, watching the Grand Elder and the guards bustling about.

There was only a thin layer of clouds in the sky, which would probably dissipate when the sun came out. It was going to be a good day.

Soft footsteps stopped beside me.

Sariel: When did you come here? You didn't even sleep?

I curled the paint stains on my fingers into my palm.

You: I'm a little nervous.

Sariel: Nervous about what?

You: I don't know if it will go smoothly.

You: Even if it does, I heard from the little lizard that there are many memories and powers of your past in the seal. I don't know what will happen afterwards.

Sariel: Afterwards, I'll take you horse riding and spear practicing. Didn't you say that yourself?

I turned my head and looked at Sariel blankly. The air in the forest in the morning was very cool. With every breath he took, there was a little white mist in front of him, blurring his golden eyes.

Sariel: What else could happen?

I nodded heavily. Yes, it had to be this way.

We stood quietly for a while. Soon, the Grand Elder dismissed the guards and announced the start of the ritual.

As expected, a thick fog rose around us, and Sariel's figure gradually disappeared into it. I waited for a while longer, then went around to a stone wall and sat down beside it.

You: You should have seen it by now...

I closed my eyes, my palm against the wall, trying to awaken my talent.

I felt it, Sariel's fingers, just a wall away from me, brushing against a mottled color on the stone wall.

Gradually, the scene he saw appeared before my eyes.

In all directions, not a single stone was spared, all filled with writing and drawings. I had arranged this overnight and asked the Grand Elder. As long as I didn't use spiritual power to scribble, it would be fine.

I wrote a lot of "good lucks", on the heads of cartoon little foxes, on the heads of cartoon little birds, in simple characters, in traditional characters, in Danish, and even drew a few hieroglyphs.

On the head of the cartoon little lizard were the words Qishe wanted to say, which I wrote down verbatim.

I drew horses, spears, endless grasslands, and the vast Kunlun Mountains. Sariel was very suitable for a small and exquisite studio, but after he recovered, I still wanted to go to these places with him again.

And the wall behind me was the closest to the center of the stone platform. I drew a big picture of myself on it, without writing any words, just smiling, looking at him.

Sariel looked at the drawings one by one, and finally stopped in front of the silly smiling "me", bending his knuckles and knocking on the forehead of the drawing, with a slight smile on his face.

Sariel: Silly.

Knocking on this too? I complained a little and sat down against the wall with satisfaction.

Anyway, now he knew that I would always find a way to be with him.

The faint sunlight shone through the only small hole above that was not covered by the thick fog, falling on the runes all over the room. Sariel sat quietly by the wall. We couldn't see each other, but we were back to back.

As if having absorbed enough sunlight, the sun had shifted from its original position, but the runes were still flickering.

These lights intertwined into lines, enveloping Sariel.

He closed his eyes, his expression calm, only his eyelashes trembling slightly.

I felt that my body could still hold on, maintaining my talent. I saw the light on the stone platform getting brighter and brighter, engulfing Sariel, leaving only a white light between heaven and earth.

When I came back to my senses, what I saw was no longer the stone room; Sariel was standing in a vast expanse of sand.

No, this was no ordinary wilderness, this was a battlefield. The wind rolled up a tattered flag, covered with layers of blood, obscuring the name of the army.

Where the flag fluttered, shadows fell on the rusted weapons and corpses all over the ground.

Sariel seemed to be very accustomed to such scenes. He just stood quietly for a while, then bent down.

The corpse at his feet had a feathered arrow stuck in its chest. Sariel picked up a dagger, cut open the armor there, and took out the arrowhead. His movements were very gentle, as if the person was still alive.

After doing this, he picked up the skeleton and placed it in the trench, filling the gully with handfuls of yellow sand.

He repeated this.

On the vast battlefield, he was the only living person. There were too many corpses, so many that the land couldn't hold them.

When the trenches were full, he picked up a rusty spear and dug a deep pit himself. The setting sun shone on his white clothes, making the whole picture both bleak and absurd.

As he placed a corpse into the pit, the armored soldier suddenly opened his eyes and spoke to him.

??: Because of you, I died.

Sariel: I know.

Sariel replied, his palm covering the soldier's eyelids, and the corpse stopped moving again.

At first, he dug quickly, but the more he dug, the slower he became. More and more corpses spoke to him, and he seemed to remember everyone.

He found their lost weapons and armor, and wiped the blood and dust from their faces.

Some of the dead were very thin, their skin clinging to their bones. He looked at them for a long time, spread his palms, and placed a bunch of wheat ears, which appeared from nowhere, on their faces.

In the distance, there was the outline of a city wall. Sariel would occasionally stop and look there. Beside him were rows of raised tombs, also like a city wall. The two cities faced each other.

A mark I had never seen before gradually appeared on his chest. Was that the seal? But he seemed unaware.

??: Because of you, I died.

Sariel: I know.

Lying in the dust was a young man. Sariel seemed to be particularly familiar with him.

A token with the character "one" appeared in his palm, along with a plum blossom. Both were placed on the young man's chest.

Sariel: Yongzhou won. What you did was not in vain, but it wasn't worth it for you to do this.

The moon rose and fell, and Sariel wandered on the battlefield. I didn't recognize most of the people he buried.

But there were also some that I did recognize, like Lao Zhong.

Lao Zhong: Old fox, because of you, I died.

Sariel: I know.

Sariel's movements didn't stop, just paused for a moment.

Sariel: I haven't told her yet. There's one less person to visit your grave.

And Qishe.

Qishe: Old Qi, I'm dead. It's your fault.

Sariel: I know.

No matter how they blamed him, Sariel only said this one sentence.

But I wanted to shout, that's not true! I wasn't sure about the others, but Lao Zhong wouldn't say such things, and neither would the lizard! And weren't they still alive!

Finally, there was only one corpse left.

It was me.

Perhaps because I had already had a premonition, I wasn't too surprised. Sariel's every move had already slowed to a stop.

"I" was smiling at him, but saying the same thing as those people.

??: I died because of you.

Sariel finally seemed to feel tired. He sat down, and feeling that it wasn't enough, he lay down on his back.

The bright moon hung high, and he seemed to be watching the moon side by side with "me".

After watching for a while, he turned his head, and for a moment, I felt like he met my gaze.

Sariel: I won't let you die.

My heart sank. I should have felt safe because of this promise, but Sariel's expression was full of sorrow...

...as if nothing else in the world existed except the person beside him.

And he, who had attached his whole life to her, would also die if she were gone.

The pattern that looked like a seal became clearer and clearer.

"My" eyes were open, but he didn't close them. I saw that look, it was the same painful look as mine now.

At this moment, I knew what the corpse was going to say, it was the same thing I wanted to say --

You: It shouldn't be like this.

The moment the words left my mouth, the light on Sariel's chest dimmed.

The earth trembled, the realm collapsed, the battlefield, the flags, the city walls, and the tombs all disappeared.

All that remained before my eyes was the darkened stone room. Sariel was still by the stone wall, his head slightly tilted, as if he had lost consciousness.

You: Oh no!

I stood up and ran towards the entrance he had used to enter. The Grand Elder was standing there.

Seeing my expression, he seemed to have understood something. I no longer cared about the pretense between humans and the spirit race and shouted loudly,

You: Grand Elder, the ritual---

Grand Elder: The ritual has failed, just as it has appeared on the stone wall.

Stone wall? This was the first time I'd heard this term, but there was no time to think about it. The thick fog dissipated, and I rushed onto the stone platform, discerning that shallow but steady breathing from the bird songs that were rising all around again.

-

After bringing Sariel back home, Mr. Kui checked him and said he was fine, just needed to rest. My mind was in turmoil, I just nodded. Looking out the window, I saw the Grand Elder standing there. I remembered what he had said earlier, so I went out.

You: Grand Elder, can you tell me what you meant by the stone wall?

The Grand Elder didn't look at me, as if talking to himself.

Grand Elder: The stone wall records a prophecy, pointing to the path to the revival of the spirit race.

Grand Elder: If it weren't for its guidance, Sariel would never have been able to save you at those times and places.

Grand Elder: And I, in holding the ritual for Sariel, was also following the instructions on the stone wall.

Grand Elder: I originally thought this ritual could help him release the talent in his body so that he could fight for us.

The spirit race was acting according to a prophecy on a stone wall to achieve revival? And Sariel was a very important part of this prophecy.

I thought about it carefully and couldn't help but find it bizarre. But Sariel's rescues at the Siyu intersection and the hospital... he shouldn't have had any reason to appear in those two places.

But what did the revival of the spirit race have to do with me, to record my safety on it as well? And the most important question --

Even if Sariel recovered his power, so what? It seemed that he didn't want to have anything to do with the spirit race at all. I looked at the Grand Elder.

You: Did that stone wall say how to make Sariel willing to fight for you?

Grand Elder: He will. For a person, even after thousands of years, there are always some things that remain the same.

Grand Elder: Don't you feel it?

You: I...

His profile when he said the word "protect", the phrase "I know", and his cold eyes towards the little guard alternately appeared in my mind. I... felt it.

You: But... there's another question.

You: Since this is a prophetic stone wall, and undoing the seal is a failed method...

You: Why write this method on it, and hide the fact that it will fail?

The Grand Elder was stunned for a moment and didn't answer anymore. I thought, if it said "failure" on it, maybe the Grand Elder wouldn't have tried this method for Sariel.

Suddenly, I had a strange feeling, as if compared to Sariel's power recovery, this stone wall or the person who wrote on the stone wall was more eager to see a certain result.

-

Sariel woke up exactly two days later. Although Mr. Kui said he was fine, I still stayed by his side, not leaving if I didn't have to.

It seemed that I understood his mood when we met again. It wasn't just because of worry --

You: I also wanted you to see me first when you woke up.

Sariel: What's the benefit of seeing you first?

I don't know if it was because I woke him up, but as soon as I finished speaking, Sariel opened his eyes, his voice very hoarse.

I hurriedly leaned closer with a smile.

You: Doesn't seeing my face feel very healing?

He didn't seem to be fully conscious yet. He reached out and stroked my face, and actually smiled softly.

Sariel: As long as it's not a tear-stained face, it's okay.

His hair was a little messy from sleep. I stared blankly, my heart seeming to turn into a ball of cotton.

Burying my head in his hand, I had just been praised, and I wanted to cry again. It wasn't just because of this smile, but also --

You: ... I'm sorry.

These two days, I kept thinking about that battlefield.

You: Did the seal fail to be undone because of me, because of what I said?

Sariel had been casually tapping my head with his fingertips, as if tapping a kitten.

Hearing this, his movements paused. It seemed that he understood that I had seen the same thing as him. He sighed, with an expression of "why are you bothering yourself with this".

Sariel: Something that hasn't been undone for thousands of years, it's impossible to undo it with an unknown ritual.

Sariel: Just think about it.

You: Yes.

I agreed. But the torment Sariel suffered during those three days, our agreement, his determination and expectation... I couldn't help but think about these things. In order not to reveal my emotions, I held it in until my shoulders trembled.

Sariel: Cry if you want to.

You: No, actually, when I came, I had already decided not to cry like before.

My chin was slightly lifted. Sariel's eyes reflected my strange expression.

Sariel: The first time you woke up and let me see you, you broke your own idea.

Sariel: And what's the difference between you now and crying?

Of course there was. I pounced on him and hugged him.

After a long while, Sariel raised his hand and hugged me back. He hugged me very loosely, as if I could break free if I just lowered myself a little.

You: Sariel, there must be other ways, right?

But I didn't move at all, as if asking him, and as if asking myself.

Turning my head, Sariel's silver-white eyelashes were very close to me, turning into many overlapping shadows, but in the end, that touch of gold jumped out, flickering with a little light.

Sariel: There will be.

Outside in the courtyard, the sound of the water clock echoed, long and drawn out.

We separated a little. Sariel coughed lightly, and a red mark appeared at the corner of his eyes under the candlelight.

Sariel: It's very late. Go to rest first. If there's a way, we'll think about it tomorrow.

I was about to nod when there was a rumbling sound outside. The ground beneath my feet shook, just like when the ritual failed!

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 18-15

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[keeperoftinyarmy]

I have two levels of thought, for JK as an individual and JK as an artist. I'm not trying to trash him but I'm just trying to get my thoughts straight and seek your opinion because I feel a bit betrayed.

Now as an artist, I've always thought JK has great potential as a soloist. However so far, all his three singles released during solo era are pretty generic. I think its fine to like them but I expected better from him. I mean I'd expect this sort of music from a BP band member, not someone from BTS. As for the payola, I personally don't care even though I'm shocked about the extent of payola he's getting. I just can't take his achievements that seriously because of them though. And other people might find it hard to digest because it goes against things BTS preached as a band.

The thing that gets is me mad is that if they have this much capacity then everything I saw during Face - forget paid radio spins but just sending the audio to radio, the splitting of the streams by Spotify, the issues with the D2C web store, the issues with Hanteo - were all wilfully ignored by Hybe. But that has nothing to do with JK.

So anyway his songs and his choice to go for payola - I think it's fair to criticize JK on that but they have nothing to do with Jimin.

But there's just one thing thats genuinely made me question what JK is doing as a friend to Jimin and as individual. And that is the extended parallels between elements of Like Crazy and Seven. I say parallels because I don't want to say the c-word but that's what it is. Why are the concept photos, outfits, styling, and dance moves so similar between two songs that have no relation to each other. When I saw the concept photos, I wrote it off as a coincidence, but now with the choreography I find it hard to do that again. And JK has seen the LC dance - he watched it right on live so I can't pretend the hybe choreographer just gave him this dance and he didn't know anything. I just can't reconcile it in my head. I feel sad.

I respect your opinion and thank you for sharing it with me. I’m going to assume this isn’t a shade attack on Kookie and respond.

I will honestly say Seven is the first JK solo song I’ve really liked….except for My You. And that’s totally fine, every song is not for every person. It doesn’t change how talented JK is or how much I want him to succeed.

Payola… that’s a loaded word and we don’t know that happened. What I see are deals and connections and different modes of marketing than BigHit has used in the past. I’ve thought since Like Crazy and PD Bang house hunting in LA that BigHit was set on fully understanding how to create a huge hit in the US market - for JK’s release but also for future BTS releases. This is a business…a business that wants to make money and expand …so figuring out how to get to the top of Billboard should be their priority. I think they had a plan for Seven and Face’s success surprised them. I don’t think they hated it because their stock rose but I do think they continued their plan for their western push. Was Jimin’s album a casualty of that? Seems like but I don’t know. I’m proud of Face still doing well despite the challenges. Jimin’s next project will probably get even more internal support because of it.

Now…the part about the concept similarities…

Going from years of evidence from video, articles and the guys’ mouths Jimin and Jungkook are really close. That means they are discussing their work with each other. That means that any similarities between Face and Seven are fully known and approved by the two of them. Because if Jimin had an issue with Seven’s concept he would have spoken up…and no way JK would have done it if Jimin were upset by it. And I’d bet all my money on that fact.

I don’t think it was copying I think it was a deliberate connection maybe even a collaboration of sorts. I feel like there’s a thread between the two purposely put there by the artists.

This should not be a surprise to anyone that follows BTS…jikook often match and have similar ideas.

[overfedvenison]

Deltarune: I saw some people speculating on The Knight There’s a candidate people often do not seem to take seriously. Discussions are dominated with ideas like, “Kris is the Knight,” or “Papyrus is the Knight.” But, when replaying chapter 1 a while back, I noticed something: I think it’s Alphys:

Alphys is rather insistent that Kris and Susie, in particular, go off to get the chalk. She notably ignores Noelle offering to go in favour of sending those two off together. This might be fairly normal - Maybe Alphys has picked up on Noelle’s transparently blatant crush and has made the executive decision to not send them to the closet during school hours, for example. Except... First, she teaches the class anyways. If she sent someone else, or went in to the closet after you, wouldn’t that person also have also fallen into the Dark World? How did she get chalk? Did she ever even need chalk? We even see Susie standing next to the door the entire time - When did chalk change hands? Second: Right after you enter in to that dark world, the closet is shut behind you. If you return to it at the end of the chapter, it’s locked. Alphys, as faculty, has access to the key to it; it seems like it’s a small enough school to not have a principal or anything, so the only people involved seem to be Alphys, Toriel, and the now-deceased Gerson. Aphys would have a key - and would know you are in the Dark World Third: So far, we have seen four people have entered the Dark World. Each time, in a group of two. Each group of two is a team working on the school project. Consider that both are places Alphys sent those groups, as well - Noelle and Berdly are the ace students, and regularly go to the library because Noelle dislikes going to her home and Berdly has a job there. In other words, as her teacher, Alphys would very well have known that Noelle and Berdly would have gone to the library and and thus had every ability to sent them to their own Dark World. That same day, Alphys has crashed her bike. This is more speculative, but it’s possible she got in, got out and made herself scarce. Suppose she was more distracted, as she needed to flee the scene after a Dark Fountain was opened?

But lets consider more deeply - Alphy’s role in Undertale

Characters in Deltarune “Rhyme” with their iterations in Undetale. Asgore is still divorced, and has flowers that he tends too. Toriel takes care of children and is a school teacher. Undine is the head of the police, analogous to a royal guard. And so on. So, what is Alphys? Alphys is a brilliant scientist wrapped with dark tendencies as she knows she has done things which may well be unforgivable. She is obsessed with anime, and has a deep desire for acceptance. She, among other things, has build Mettaton’s body, took over the mantle of royal scientist from Gaster and continued his experiments, and delved into experiments into the injection of determination. These aspects are all very hidden from the outside world, which perceives her as a somewhat-ineffectual scientist who is obsessed with anime, and does not consider these darker aspects Right now, in Deltarune? Alphys is your amusing home-room teacher, obsessed with anime and out-of-touch. So awkward that she always seems nervous just doing her job, and she has a somewhat pathetic presentation - doing things like hanging out in alleys and putting out milk for a cat that does not exist. So, that’s a parallel. But it’s only a part of a parallel to how she was in Undertale. The other half? Well... Let me list a few things:

Spamton Neo was noted to have been drawn up by a Lighter and then abandoned. Spamton sought out that body manifested into it, in a parallel to Mettaton. Spamton is also obsessed with phones - and the mysterious voice on the other end of it. Who’s the one character heavily associated with phones? Alphys, who upgrades your phone. Not only that, but Alphys guides you along her plans through the entire chapter that focus on her in Undertale, using her phone. And, who built Mettaton’s body? That’s also Alphys. It’s also worth mentioning Alphys’ experiments into determination, carrying on from Gaster. What is the framing device of Deltarune? It’s a survey program set up by Gaster - some great experiment. And, in order to create a Dark World, one must thrust their determination into the ground. In other words: If Alphys is the Knight, then she is STILL doing dark experiments into Determination. She’s still carrying on Gaster’s work! There’s even how the infamous Entry 17 refers to two people - Like how each project group in in pairs. Next: A major hole in this theory is that Alphys seems to express concern for us, and seems ignorant to what is really going on. Except that’s not actually a contradiction, because this behaviour is EXACTLY what we see through her entire chapter in Undertale. Alphys is not only capable of lying to our face in order to keep herself seeming like an innocent - she has done it all before and it would be consistent with her past behavior.

And, seen above, she spends her time hanging out in an alley - one notably decorated with flowers from Asgore, with graffiti of the Everyman seen in Reaper Bird’s attack, and taking care of a “Pet.” Surely, that is an allusion to her role in Undertale (The Everyman is also interesting - We see it only here, in Dark Worlds, and in the True Lab; if she IS the knight, all of those places are connected, specifically, with her. ) And, aside from that, Alphys has every reason to want a world with more magic in it. Alphys is a teacher, and not even a very effective one, who is easily able to be pushed around by the bullies in her own class. She is desperate for the affection of kids 10 years her junior, putting up anime reviews at the “Teen Zone” and insisting that she is the “Cool Teacher.” She raises a cat she only -imagines- exists, and is, as always, obsessed with anime. Unlike in Undertale, she has no relationship with Undine, and no status as a royal scientist either. So, at the moment, her life is framed as kind of pathetic, and her interests are in that of fantasy - Of anime, video games, and cartoons - which is exactly what the Dark World might provide. So she has the motive. She has the ability. And she has done things just like this in the past - albeit in a different timeline. 

[thatartiststudios]

Another fic update for y'all

The group settled around the table, the glow of the magical lamps casting an ambient light over the deck. After a hearty dinner and a moment of shared silence, they collectively decided it was time to address the unsettling events that had transpired.

Callum took a deep breath and began, “So, Rayla and I were in Xadia when something spooked our shadowpaw. We ended up tumbling off a cleft.”

Carter raised an eyebrow, noting the similarity, “That’s weirdly similar to how our gryphon, Freak, got startled, causing Sadie and me to fall out of the reed boat.” The eerie parallel didn’t escape anyone’s notice, and they exchanged thoughtful glances.

Rayla spoke up, “Are these events orchestrated, or is it just a strange coincidence?”

The conversation then shifted to The Collector’s cryptic words and the ominous threats made towards Leo. Piper voiced her concern, “He mentioned ‘His Champions.’ What does that even mean?”

Jason added, “And what about ‘The Game’? Why is it so specific about who enters?”

Callum leaned forward, his expression grave, “And Leo, what did he mean by ‘collateral damage’? We need to understand what we’re dealing with here.”

Just as Leo was about to speak, the holographic device, left unattended on the table, whirred to life. The Collector’s image materialized, shorter this time due to the device being on the table instead of the deck.

Sadie’s temper flared as she addressed the holographic image of The Collector, “Is this just some sick game to you?”

The Collector chuckled, “Oh, was it too much for you? I thought it was wonderful!”

Sadie’s eyes narrowed, “Wonderful?”

The Collector continued, seemingly unfazed, “Yes, I’ve always been one for dramatic flair. But, anyway, you’re ready for your next clue, are you not? ‘A Colossus of past entertainment’ in Rome. I wish you good luck!”

The hologram flickered off, leaving the group in an uneasy silence. The hologram flickered, and The Collector disappeared. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the encounter sinking in. Leo was the first to break the silence.

“That dude gives me the creeps,” Leo muttered, his eyes fixated on the dormant hologram device.

Piper frowned, “A Colossus of past entertainment in Rome? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rayla shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never heard of Rome, let alone been there.”

Carter leaned back, his expression contemplative, “Maybe The Colosseum?”

Piper nodded slowly, “That sounds like it’d fit the bill.”

Callum sighed, “I just hope it doesn’t involve more illusions. That was... unsettling.”

Sadie nodded, still fuming a bit from their encounter with The Collector, “Agreed. Let’s be prepared for anything, though. This ‘Game’ of his seems to have a twisted sense of entertainment.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Rayla started, “but didn’t he say that we would all have to face a past trial in each of our places? I think that means that this won’t be the last time you use that spell during this.”

Callum winced, realizing she was right, “Yeah, forgot about that.”

Jason, who had been quiet for most of the discussion, finally spoke up, “And what about Leo? The Collector made it clear that he’s not part of the chosen Champions. What does that mean for him?”

Leo scratched his head, “I’m just here to fly the ship, man. I didn’t sign up for any Champion business.”

Callum looked at Leo sympathetically, “He mentioned something about The Game not liking it when others enter. We should be careful.”

Piper glanced at the hologram device, “And what if we decide not to play this Game of his?”

The device flickered, and The Collector’s voice echoed, “You can try, but remember, there are consequences for defying the rules. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Sadie muttered under her breath, “Consequences my foot.”

With a collective sigh, they realized they were in too deep. The hologram device remained silent, its eerie glow a constant reminder of the challenges they faced.

The heroes dispersed, heading to their rooms to rest before their next destination. Callum and Rayla strolled side by side, the ship’s gentle rocking beneath them.

“Hey, you’ll be okay with traveling over water, right?” Callum asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Rayla smiled softly, “Callum, it’s not like I haven’t been on a boat before. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Callum nodded, “I know, but I just want to make sure. If you need anything, just tell me, alright?”

Rayla rolled her eyes playfully, “I’m not helpless, you know. But, sure, I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Callum grinned, “Good enough for me. But, you know I’ll worry anyway.”

Rayla chuckled, “Stubborn mage. Fine, worry all you want.” She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good night, Callum.”

“Good night, Rayla,” Callum replied, a warm smile on his face as they headed to their respective rooms. The Argo II continued its journey, sailing across the night-shrouded sea toward Rome, and the looming challenge that awaited them in The Colosseum.

—

The next morning unfolded in a rather uneventful manner, with the team casually mingling on deck and deepening their camaraderie. This continued until Jason, positioned at the top of the steps leading to the stern, noticed a peculiar sight in the distance.

“Hey, guys?” Jason gestured towards a growing speck on the horizon, “I think we’re being followed.”

Piper joined him, squinting to get a better view of the approaching vessel. “That doesn’t look like any ship we’ve seen around here. What do you think?”

Jason shook his head, “Definitely not a Greek or Roman warship. And it doesn’t fit the profile of a modern ship either.”

“Nor does it resemble any Egyptian vessels,” added Carter, who had joined them at the back railing, squinting as the ship approached, “It’s not like anything we’re accustomed to.”

The mysterious ship cut through the waves, its tattered sails appearing to function despite extensive damage. An eerie fog enveloped its deck, obscuring any sight of the crew.

“It’s not sitting well with me,” admitted Rayla, her unease palpable, “Something feels off.”

Leo, ever mischievous, eyed approaching rock formations with a grin, “Let’s try some evasive maneuvers. Maybe we can lose our uninvited guests.”

Leo expertly guided the Argo II through intricate maneuvers, attempting to shake off the pursuing ship. However, the ghostly vessel remained relentless, undeterred by Leo’s skillful navigation.

As the ship continued its pursuit, the agile movements of the Argo II jostled its passengers. Sadie, recovering from a slide into the railing, winced at the pain in her side. Rayla, struggling with seasickness, sought support from Callum.

“Is all this moving really necessary?” Rayla asked, her voice queasy.

Despite Leo’s evasive actions, the ghostly ship persisted, a haunting specter on the horizon, steadily closing the gap between them.

After a moment of thought, a spell came to Callum’s mind.

“Hey, Leo, you think you could steady the ship? I have an idea.”

Leo halted their maneuvers, responding to Callum’s request. As he released Rayla, Callum stood, clutching his staff with determination. He drew a swirling blue rune in the air and uttered, “Lapis Caeli,” inhaling a massive gust of air from the pursuing ship like a vacuum.

With a swift closure of his mouth, he ended the spell, sending a shockwave of air echoing from his staff. The sails of the ghost ship rippled once before freezing in stillness, bringing it to an abrupt stop.

Exhaling sharply as a thick wisp of air exited from his mouth, Callum collapsed, his staff slipping from his grasp. Rayla moved swiftly, catching him as he slumped back. Kneeling beside him, she braced his back, his arm around her shoulder as Callum took quick and worryingly shallow breaths. Rayla placed her free hand on Callum’s chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart. The others exchanged worried glances, not that Rayla noticed, Callum being her sole center of attention and concern.

Piper, breaking the silence, voiced the question on everyone’s mind, “Is… he going to be okay?”

Rayla, with a confidence that seemed more for herself than the others, responded, “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Leo, scratching his head, looked at the now still ship, gradually fading from view. “I… I don’t understand. What did he do?” Puzzled, he turned his gaze back to Rayla and Callum. As Callum’s breathing slowed to a more manageable rate, Rayla explained with evident concern, “He took their wind away.”

The others glanced at each other in astonishment as they realized the true extent of what Callum had done. As the tension lifted, Callum’s breathing gradually slowed, and with Rayla’s support, he managed to stand. His eyes opened, the first question on his lips directed at Rayla, “Did it work?”

Rayla, her hand drifting from his chest to his face, couldn’t help but scoff. The onlookers wisely chose to give them some space.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” she retorted.

Callum pressed on, “Well?”

“Yes, dumb mage, it worked, but that’s not my point,” Rayla replied, her voice soft but carrying an underlying concern. As Callum looked into her eyes, he sensed that the fear for him hadn’t fully dissipated.

“I’m sorry, I worried you,” he admitted, releasing his arm from around her to hold both of her hands.

Rayla’s response was equally soft, “It hurts me to see you like that.”

Callum gently rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do anything like that for the rest of this. I promise you, Ray. I-” His words were interrupted by her lips on his.

When she pulled away, she said, “We always catch each other, don’t we?”

Callum smiled at her, “Yeah, we do.”

—

Rayla found herself on the dark and foreboding deck of Sea Legs, the cursed ship that bore witness to the trials and tribulations of their journey to find Aaravos’s prison. The air was thick with tension, reminiscent of the haunting memories that clung to every plank of the vessel. In her dream, she had successfully picked the lock on her cuffs, a fleeting sense of triumph giving her courage.

Armed with two stolen spears, Rayla prepared to confront Finnegrin. The malevolent elf captain stood before her, his presence emanating a sinister aura that sent shivers down her spine. As she lunged at him, determination etched on her face, he anticipated her every move with an eerie precision.

Finnegrin swiftly drew a mysterious rune in the air, uttering an incantation that echoed through the night, “Veinus Frigardis.”

A cold, blue wave crawled across Rayla’s skin, and her blood turned to an unnatural chill in her veins. The once triumphant spirit of rebellion now screamed in searing pain, dropping the stolen weapons as her body convulsed on the unforgiving deck.

But the nightmare took a sinister turn. Where she expected Callum’s reassuring presence, there was only an eerie silence. The anguish in his eyes, the warmth of his touch—absent. Rayla writhed in pain, her pleas for rescue echoing unheard in the hollow night.

As the spell tightened its grip, she awoke with a gasp, the phantom pain still lingering. The dream had left her breathless, a chilling reminder of the trials they had faced, and a harbinger of the darkness that continued to shadow their every step.

—

Callum jolted awake at the sound of Rayla’s distressed voice echoing through the ship. Worry etched across his face, he hurriedly made his way to her room, driven by the urgency of her call.

“Rayla! What’s wrong?” Callum burst into her room, finding her tangled in the remnants of her nightmare. Without hesitation, he rushed to her side, enveloping her in a comforting embrace.

“Did... did I say something?” she asked, slightly confused.

“You called out my name. I was worried,” Callum reassured her, his voice a soothing balm.

Rayla’s eyes widened with embarrassment, “Oh no, I didn’t wake anyone else, did I?”

Callum gently stroked her back, “Shh, don’t worry about it. I just told them you had nightmares, and they understood.”

“But-” Rayla attempted to voice her worry, yet Callum shushed her gently once more.

“Just breathe, Ray. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” It was only then that Rayla realized she had been crying. She buried her face in the crook of Callum’s neck, in the soft knit of his scarf, clutching the back of his jacket as if he might vanish from her grip at any moment.

“Shh, shh, I’m here, A mhuirnín.” he repeated, his voice a steady anchor in the sea of her emotions, “I’m always here.” In the cocoon of his comforting presence, the remnants of the nightmare began to fade, replaced by the reassurance that she was not alone in facing the shadows that haunted her dreams.

After a few moments of soothing, Callum gently pulled back enough to look at Rayla’s face. Concern filled his eyes as he asked, “What was your dream about?”

Rayla’s words faltered as she began to describe the haunting vision that had gripped her during sleep, reaching its peak with his unexpected absence.

As she spoke, Callum’s eyes widened, and a pained expression crossed his face. Without hesitation, he put his forehead against hers, a silent reassurance that he was there and would always be there for her. Rayla felt the warmth of his presence and the steady beat of his heart against her own, grounding her in the reality that the nightmare was just a fleeting shadow in the night.

“I’m here, Rayla,” Callum whispered, his voice a gentle murmur. “I won’t leave you, not in dreams or in reality. You’re not alone.” The intimacy of their connection lingered in the quiet room, a shared understanding that transcended words.

And that wraps up Chapter 5! Stay tuned for Chapter 6!

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi everyone! And welcome to the last chapter of this fic! It's been a ride and I want to thank all of you for the kudos and sweet comments you have all left.

Now I want to warn you there is heavy survivor's guilt in this on Sarah's part and it does go in depth. So please be careful when reading. And this won't have the happy ending everyone is hoping for. But remember there is still time in the series. This is not the end. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoy it!

My song recs for this chapter Heaven's not too Far and Lifeline by We Three and Five More Minutes by Scotty McCreery

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary:  Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.  

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, depictions of violence, inaccurate medical procedures, and implied/references a canonical character death and in depth survivors’ guilt 

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Hold On, I Still Want You Ch. 5

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping was back, only it sounded more steady? And her body…her limbs still felt sluggish and heavy. But the weight of Justin’s body was gone. Groaning quietly, Sarah noticed she couldn’t move her head as she tried to open her eyes. 

“Am I dyin’?” She questioned after she got her eyes open and the blurry image of Teddy Courtney hovered over her. Looking every bit the parallel image of his older sister in the ambulance.

“Why the hell would you ask that?” Teddy asked, sounding agonized as she blinked and now he was slowly starting to come into focus. 

“Because you’re here,” her voice sounded hoarse and she almost didn’t recognize it. It felt awkward to talk to like her mouth wasn’t really moving but Sarah knew it was, “And when you’re here, usually that means something bad has happened because you really don’t like Chicago and only really come back to the city if something has happened. And from what I’ve gathered in the last few minutes based on my surroundings, I’m in a hospital bed. So two plus two equals me dyin’.”  

“You’re not dying,” Teddy said with a roll of his eyes lined with eyeliner, “And when you get out of the hospital we’re going to have a discussion about your scary math skills.” 

Sarah grinned drowsily at him, despite herself. Her pseudo-brother still looked unimpressed. Till she asked, “Do I still have my shadow?”

In response to the callback to their childhood, he made an exaggerated appearance of checking her over with a tiny smirk on his lips, “Yup, shadow’s still there.”

“Good,” she yawned, eyes drifting shut. Just that small interaction had taken a lot of energy. 

“You scared the shit out of Erin. When your boyfriend comes back, I’m gonna go call her, let her and Voight know you woke up.” Teddy said offhandedly as he sat back down in the seat by Sarah’s bedside. (Sarah didn’t see it because her eyes were shut. But her pseudo-brother was frowning worriedly at her. She was acting like the Sarah he knew, but she had only been awake for a minute or two. Was it bad that she was already tired? Maybe he should find her doctor.) 

Brown eyes snapped open instantly. Boyfriend? She didn’t have a boyfriend. Sarah stared at Erin’s brother in confusion. When she spoke, every word felt like she was moving cotton around in her mouth. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? I don’t have a boyfriend?”

Teddy rolled his eyeliner-lined eyes. “Then you might want to have a conversation with him when he gets back from the bathroom. Because he’s been here since I got in this morning. I think he might’ve been here before that too because he was sleeping here when a nurse brought me up.”

“Who?” She croaked. 

“Um,” Teddy turned around and pointed a finger. When Sarah followed it, she saw he was pointing to Will Halstead walking out of a room across the hallway. But he was engaged to Natalie. Why would he-  “Not him but about his height and build. But a little broader? With dark hair and he has a more grown-out beard. Connor something.” 

Oh. That both made more sense and didn’t all at the same time. Connor had stayed? With her? Why? But no sooner than the questions came to her, Connor appeared in the doorway, like he had heard his name. 

“Hi. There are those brown eyes I’ve been wanting to see,” he said, his voice soft when he saw she was awake. If not for the beeping and the smell of disinfectant, Sarah could close her eyes and she would be back in Connor’s apartment.

Seeing the other man, Teddy stood up slowly. It seemed like they needed a little space. Then with a light squeeze to her arm, he said: “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, get something to eat, and call Erin. I’ll be back in a little while, okay?” 

Sarah couldn’t nod with her neck being immobilized, so she shot her pseudo-brother a tired grin…Well, she hoped it was a grin. But Teddy still looked worried. So she slurred out, “Don’t take my shadow.” 

That seemed to loosen him up a little. Teddy rolled his eyes fondly, “We already established your shadow is still firmly attached to you. It’s not going anywhere, Wendy-lady.” 

Then he made his way out of her hospital room, pausing briefly to speak to Connor in a low undertone that Sarah couldn’t make out the words being said. She narrowed her eyes as her…lover?  Was that the adept word to use when she described what the dark-haired, broad-shouldered surgeon was to her? Honestly even that seemed too intimate because Connor wasn’t in love with her. Sure he probably cared about her to some extent because they were sleeping together. But…If the brunette could shake her head, she would. (She should not be having this discussion with herself in her drowsy, hazy pain medicated state) Connor nodded and Teddy left. 

Leaving her with her…something. Every word seemed inadequate to describe what Connor was to her and the term boyfriend was off-limits because Connor Rhodes wasn’t her boyfriend. Guys like him didn’t fall for girls like her. They had more than a friendship, but less than a relationship and Sarah wasn’t about to make it more than what it was.

 (Little did she know, it was more than what she thought it was. And Connor was going to make that perfectly clear to her fairly soon) 

Sarah opened her mouth as if to ask him a question, but her voice was still horse and a sudden coughing fit took over so the only noise that came out of her mouth was croaky or coughing. Connor moved quickly. Pouring a cup of water for her. Then placing a straw in the cup, he made his way back over to Sarah. 

“Small sips,” he told her, raising her bed so she was in a slightly upward position. He held the straw up to her mouth. While she sipped at her water, the brunette eyed the double-certified surgeon. His mused hair, bloodshot eyes, and rumpled clothing were reminiscent of the Connor Rhodes that walked through Med during Dr. Downey’s final days or when Robin had been in the hospital before they knew about her tumor and after when she was in recovery, Sarah thought Teddy might be right. Connor had stayed with her. 

“Good?” He asked her a few minutes later and she drew back a little in answer. So Connor took the cup away. Those powerful back muscles were on display to her, but she couldn’t properly enjoy the view like she usually would in a non-hazy state. Not with the questions swirling around in her head and her medicated state.

“You stayed with me,” her statement came out in the form of a question. Connor turned back to her, nodding as he made his way back to her. “Yeah,” 

“Why?” 

“Because I was worried and I didn’t want you to wake up by yourself.” He said his tone soft before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The familiar feeling of his lips against her skin was soothing in a way Sarah didn’t know she had needed till now. Apparently, the feeling was mutual because he lingered and breathed deeply as if he were taking her in. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

Then he pulled away, but he didn’t stray very far as he took the seat, opposite where Teddy had been by her bedside. Grabbing her hand in both of his, the former trauma surgeon asked, “How are you feeling? Any pain?”

Sarah blinked, noticing for the first time how small her hand looked in his. Then she realized he was waiting for her to answer. She yawned, “No, no pain. They must have me on good pain medication though.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because I can’t feel a thing and I’m high as a kite,” she yawned again and when she saw his look of confusion, she grinned lazily, “How many times have you held my hand in yours for any reason?”

“A lot?” Connor said in a confused tone. 

Sarah gave him a grin that was tinged with exhaustion, then she asked with a slight slur to her words as the medication started to pull her back under, “And I’m just now noticing how small my hand is sandwiched between yours.” 

Connor snorted. Her grin grew broader as she opened and shut her eyes slowly, “Don’t worry. I just sleep when I’m high and oh, I get real honest,”

Now he raised an eyebrow at her, “And you know this, how?”

“A story for another time,” she said, words still feeling foreign, and the story of her first and only experience with edibles was not one she needed to tell while feeling floaty on medication.

She blinked long and slow again as he brought her hand up to his lips. A sense of secondhand déjà vu hit her and she wasn’t sure why. But she knew she had seen Connor do this before with someone else, but Sarah couldn’t remember who. She knew it wasn’t her though. Her eyes fell closed. 

“I’m learning you have a lot of stories that you’ve been saving for another time,” he murmured against her skin and Sarah’s eyes drifted open once more to stare at him.

“Huh?” 

Connor sighed heavily, dropping her hand gingerly as he ran his hands through his hair. Now Sarah could see the pent-up tension that hid in his shoulders. “You know I was the doctor they paged for you?”

There had to be a reason Connor was telling her this but as she blinked again, longer and slower than before, she couldn’t see it. 

“Choi took Voight’s son-” Justin. Oh. Guilt manifested in her like a second itchy layer of skin that Sarah couldn’t scratch. She hadn’t thought to ask how Justin was once since she woke up. But her…Connor was continuing before she could ask if her best friend was okay. 

“-But Maggie paged me to work on you.”

Sarah's brow furrowed, “So you’re the one that took the bullet out of my neck?”

Her something laughed, but it was a sarcastic, harsh sound. “Bullets. Two of them. And God, no. I don’t think I could’ve been that strong. But Ava, for all her faults and ability to bust my balls, never let it get that far. She was the one who took those bullets out of you. In fact, she was pushing me back to the elevator so I wouldn’t see it was you. I didn’t even know you two were friends, something I feel like I should've known.” 

There had to be a reason why Connor was telling her all of this. So she asked him. 

 “You being wheeled in on that gurney made me realize that I don’t know anything about you. Not really. Not the small detail stuff at least. Will knew you were close with Detective Lindsay but that’s another thing I didn’t know. In all of our six months together, I don’t know anything about your past.”

Were you supposed to know that kind of stuff about an extended booty call?

“You really think that’s all you are to me?” Connor questioned in that low, serious tone of his. The tone he took when explaining treatment to a patient. The brunette realized that instead of keeping that question inside her head, she had spoken it out loud. By the tone and his body language, he was waiting for her to deny that’s what she thought. But Sarah’s voice was starting to hurt worse than when she woke up and she didn’t want to lie to him. So she blinked at him instead. 

“You are not an extended booty call,” Connor told her firmly after her beat of silence, but his tone was gentle, as his hand carded soothingly through her curls that had seen better days for sure. Then he huffed.

“We have a lot to talk about when you feel up to it. But baby,” and it wasn’t the pet name that made a shiver run down her spine because he had called her that before. Although that was part of that, but it was the tender way he spoke that really got her. The way his lips formed that gentle caress of words, “You are so much more to me than an extended booty call. So much more.”

Sarah went to respond but an owlish blink and the yawn that followed, told Connor just how much she was struggling to stay awake. He pressed another kiss to her hand, “Sleep baby. We can talk later. When you’re feeling better because I’m not going anywhere.”

Still, the curly-haired brunette continued to fight off sleep. Connor sighed softly, reaching up, he pressed the button so her bed was laying back once more. Then he allowed his thumb to rub soothing circles into her forehead. “Baby, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up. Rest right now. You need it.”

She puckered her lips to him, waiting like usual for the kiss from him before she went to sleep. Huffing a small laugh, he raised an eyebrow at her. “If I kiss you, will you stop trying to fight falling asleep?” 

Sarah just blinked those doe-like eyes at him, continuing to wait for him to kiss her. Those eyes that had him wrapped her little finger. Her apparently high as a kite brown eyes. He had even said it himself. Connor chastised himself while he stood up and hovered over her slightly as he kissed her slowly and gently. His lips a whisper against hers.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He told her quietly when he pulled away. Usually, after he’d kiss her like this, Connor would run his nose down the length of her neck, breathing her in. She always seemed to smell like apples and vanilla. But that wasn’t an option with the hospital bed rails in the way. So he sat back down and grabbed her hand again. With one last long blink of her chocolate irises, her eyes finally drifted closed and stayed that way.

An extended booty call? Really? That’s all she thought she was to him? Nice going, Rhodes. He chastised himself as looked down at the woman in the hospital bed, who held his heart in her hands. This was his fault; he never even tried to put a label on what they were. He was too apprehensive after his relationship with Robin. 

In his head, he heard his sister saying she had told him so.

“Should we be concerned that just talking took that much out of her?” Teddy asked, ten minutes later when he came back and saw Sarah was sleeping once more, “Because it feels like we should be worried.”

“No, this is only her first time waking up. There are many factors for her exhaustion right now. Her body is still processing everything. Adrenaline and shock from the injury might be wearing off. Plus there’s the shock of waking up in the hospital. That’s a real thing. Plus she has the medication too that might be making her drowsy. And where her wound is located, talking could actually be causing some of her exhaustion because her wound is being agitated by her vocal cords.” Connor explained to the other man. 

“So this is normal?” Teddy asked, his eyes flicking back to Sarah. In this state, she seemed so small that she reminded him of the five-year-old she was, when they first met many years ago. He wanted to hug her tight and wrap her in bubble wrap.

“Yeah, it’s normal as she regains her strength and the injury heals. Now if we don’t see any improvement in about a month. Then we’ll be concerned. But right now, we’ll just be glad she woke up in no pain.” 

Speaking of…

“Thank you by the way.” When Sarah’s boyfriend or whatever he was looking confused, Sarah’s pseudo-brother continued, “For not telling her about Justin. I just thought it’d be better coming from someone else, his wife, my sister, or even Voight.”

“You aren’t close? Your sister said you were.” Connor asked as Sarah mumbled incoherently. Teddy’s eyes flicked up, thinking she had heard him but her eyes remained closed. The trauma surgeon shushed her gently as he ran a hand up and down her arm to soothe her.

“We were before I went away for a while…I ran away when I was thirteen. Sarah was eleven. Then we didn’t see each other again till last year. It’s been getting better but we still aren’t where we were.” 

“You’ve known Sarah since she was eleven?” Lindsay had said she knew Sarah for a long time, but since they were kids? Sure he had known Russell since he was fourteen but that was because of the store…

“Longer than that. Her dad brought her down here from New York when she was five. My mom and her dad were friends, I guess. They stayed with us for a while.” 

Five years old…But something else had also caught his attention.

“Sarah’s never mentioned her dad.” Connor thought aloud. Suddenly Teddy looked as if he said too much. Playing with his pierced lip, the blond-headed man reached behind him to rub his neck with a manicured hand, “She might not have thought it was important. As far as I know she hasn’t seen him since she was a kid. He kind of bailed out not long after that. In and out mostly. But I really think that’s more of a story that Sarah needs to tell you.”

Connor nodded a little dejectedly. He understood that. He would want to hear it from his lover’s lips anyway. 

“But wait…I thought Voight was her father? When he was here yesterday, he was talking to Sarah and he said he couldn’t imagine losing one kid, let alone two.” The surgeon said when he remembered Voight showing up yesterday. 

“Voight… has filled that father figure role in Sarah’s life for a long time now... I’m sure the next time she’s awake, you could ask her and she’d tell you Hank is her dad. But I think that’s all I’m going to say about that because it’s another story Sarah should be telling you.”

Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.

“Now can I ask you a question?” The other man asked Connor, breaking his thought. He nodded. “Why did Sarah tell me she didn’t have a boyfriend when I mentioned you had been here?”

“Miscommunication and a misunderstanding. When she can keep her eyes open for more than thirty minutes, I’ll make it perfectly clear where I want to stand with her.” 

“Ooh, is Sarah going to be in trouble?” Teddy grinned at him and he snorted. The double-certified surgeon shook his head as he said, “More like I’m in trouble because the misunderstanding and communication was my fault and I’m too relieved she’s going to be okay for her to be in trouble for thinking what she was to me in this miscommunication.”

“That’s Sarah. Always taking on a view of pessimism, even when she was a kid.” Teddy told him with a slight huff of laughter, “Erin and I called her Eeyore all the time. It drove her nuts.” 

“Everyone who has visited her has said she’s been unflinchingly kind to them though. That’s not something you typically see in a person with pessimism.” Connor mentioned, thinking of Mulcalley. The floater paramedic was always seen with a different partner when he brought a patient to the ED because no one could stand under the dark cloud he cast for too long.  

The blond man shrugged, “What’s that saying about people who have never been shown kindness? They’re usually the kindest people around. And I think that the resident that committed suicide in her first year affected her.”

Did he mean Wheeler? He knew Sarah had blamed herself for his death to some extent but did she really internalize it that much?

“When she told me about it, she said you never knew what someone was going through. What could be the action that pushed a person over the edge and pulled them back from making that choice. So she was making a conscious effort to be the thing that pulls them away from that edge.”

Connor felt a surge of affection swell up inside of him. Once upon a time, he had told Sarah she couldn’t jump in and save everyone. But she was trying to prove him wrong.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Hank Voight, Erin Lindsay, Olive, and the rest of the intelligence unit arrived together half an hour later. 

“I’ll go ahead and give you some time as a family,” Connor said, seeing the police unit hang back in the ward. 

“Hey man,” Jay Halstead called when the other man made his way out of the room, stopping by the nurses' station. He wanted to see if now that Sarah had woken up and wasn’t showing signs of restlessness, they could remove her neck brace. But he needed Ava’s okay first.

“Hey,” the surgeon said before he caught one of the nurses’ attention, “Can you page Dr. Bekker for me and ask her to come up to the ICU when she has a chance?”

“Of course, Dr. Rhodes.”  

“How’s she doing, Doc?” Attwater asked. Connor shrugged making his way over to the group, “I’m not her doctor but I’d say about as good as can be expected. She woke up with no pain and was a little hazy but mostly lucid and coherent. Seemed to know what happened and had no confusion. That’s why I’m having them page Dr. Bekker. I want to see if we can take the neck brace off of her...What about you? Tell me you have this guy.” 

“This asshat is sneaky. But we have his picture out everywhere. So it’s only a matter of time.” Ruzek told him. 

“We also have our tech guy running down all his last known addresses. Plus with Reese awake now, we can have a positive ID instead of just circumstantial evidence of this crime. Help our case even more.” Jay explained and moved his hands. A glance down saw the younger Halstead was holding a yellow folder.

“Would she have to testify with that though?” Connor asked in concern. 

“If Voight even lets it get that far,” Ruzek mumbled and Connor was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“Kid,” Olinksy said. He didn’t say anything else, but Connor thought could hear a warning in the other man’s voice. 

“What? You saw him today Al,” the officer was trying to quiet, but Ruzek wasn’t known for talking in whispers. “Everyone in our unit knows it’s probably not a far leap from that.”

“Kid,” now the warning was clear. No mistaking it, “Stop talking.”

There was a noise from behind them and the surgeon turned with the rest of the unit. Sarah was awake and was shaking her head, at least she was trying to as she kept forming one word. Connor wasn’t close enough to hear her, but he could tell from the context of her body language what she was saying. 

No.

“They just told her about Justin,” Antonio Dawson observed softly. 

“Yeah,” Alvin sighed while Connor watched with the rest of them as Sarah broke down in tears, still shaking her head as best as she could in her neck brace. Hank Voight gripped her head in both of his hands, his palms coming to rest over both her ears. He was saying something and then he hugged her as she continued to cry. A yearning stirred in him as he watched his lover sob into the police sergeant's shoulder. A yearning to rush in and fix everything for her. But there was nothing for him to fix. 

Death was one thing no one could fix.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah woke up to a warm hand on her forehead. She almost thought it was Connor but he had a more warm citrus kind of smell to him and the smell that wafted into her nose wasn’t that. Instead, the smell of burning wood mixed with a lingering scent of gunpowder reminded her of the security that she associated with home. She peeled an eye open to see Hank standing there. 

“Hey kid,” his gravelly voice was soft and gentle. She tried to smile up at him, before lifting her arm that still felt as if it were asleep to push the button so her bed was sitting up more. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m a little-” she started to explain before a movement to her right caught her eye. She shifted her eyes since she couldn’t move her head in the neck brace. Teddy was still there, but now Erin and Olive were there as well. 

“Hey,” she shifted her body up on shaky limbs. Her hazy state sobered and zeroed in on Olive, “How’s Justin? I thought you’d be with him.” 

Instantly, Sarah felt something in the room shift. Her pseudo-sister, whose eyes were red and bloodshot, glanced at Olive, who had silent tears running down her cheeks. And Erin’s little brother wasn’t meeting her eyes. Unease crept inside her stomach and settled there.

“Is Justin going to be okay?” She asked, shifting her eyes to meet Hank’s again. He looked sad and weary. 

“Sarah,” Hank sighed heavily as if what he was about to say was too much to bear. If only Sarah knew how much that was true before he had to utter the words.  “…We-we pulled Justin off of life support yesterday. He passed…away not long after that.”

“No, no, no,” Sarah heard her own voice and it was still unrecognizable to her, but not like it had been earlier. Though it still was hoarse, there was now a steeliness to it. Conviction. Because Justin wasn’t dead. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Not when it was her that was always meant to be living on borrowed time. 

“When he was shot, it caused a catastrophic brain injury. They said he wasn’t going to wake up again,” Olive hiccupped as she tried to wipe away her tears, “He wouldn’t recognize us; he wouldn’t be able to talk to us and he’d be on feeding tubes and a ventilator the rest of his life. You know he wouldn’t have wanted that.”  

They were already talking about her best friend in the past tense. But he wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be. She started to shake her head. Or tried to. It was difficult with the neck brace she wore. And that’s when her tears and sobs started to come.

“No.” This was all her fault. If she hadn’t been there then maybe Justin could’ve run or…or if she had just listened-

“Sarah Athena,” her pseudo-father rumbled out her name. Then she felt his hands come to rest over her ears. Her teary-eyed gaze found his serious one. “Now you listen to me and you listen good. This is not your fault. None of this.” 

How could he say that when his son was gone and she was the one who survived? 

“No,” she sobbed again and that’s when he hugged her. Her wails were muffled against his shoulder. Hank shushed her, running his hand over the top of her head. 

“I know,” he told her quietly every time her shoulders shook. “I know. But the fact of it is that whether you were there or not…it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Sarah sobbed harder.

“You being there with him…I know you were hurt too, Sarah. But at least he wasn’t by himself when it happened. Small mercies and all that.” Olive's wavering voice floated somewhere close to her ear. 

But Justin was still gone. Why was nobody blaming her for what happened but her? Couldn’t they see she was the reason Justin was dead? Why were they comforting her? She asked herself as her shoulders continued to shake. She didn’t deserve it. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Eventually, her tears slowed and stopped completely and when she pulled away from Hank, she just sat there feeling numb. Her family talked around her, to her. She was sure of it. But Sarah couldn’t tell anyone what was being said if she was asked. Or her detached responses. Everything was quiet and blurry to her. People-her patients-had compared being numb to time not moving. That wasn’t it though. Time was moving around her, but it was her that was still. 

A soft knock pulled her back to reality a little. Jay Halstead was in the room while the rest of the intelligence unit and Connor hung back by the door. Everyone that looked at her seemed sad or worried. She avoided their eyes in favor of staring at the wall. Then Jay was speaking, but Sarah couldn’t make out what was being said. It was like she was underwater. 

“Sarah?” Erin’s hand on her shoulder was soft and it broke the surface of the water keeping her under. Sarah looked at her pseudo-sister. 

Her face was calm and suddenly the curly-haired brunette was five-years-old again, crying for her Dad after a bad dream. But he hadn’t come. Instead, Erin did. Erin, who was only nine at the time, climbed into a bed too small for her and held Sarah. Had told her stories and calmed her down until Sarah fell back asleep. 

Erin’s tone even reminded her of those nights, “You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know. But a positive ID would do nothing but help us.” 

A photo array was placed in front of her. The man was there so she pointed to him. Erin, Hank, and Jay glanced between each other. Then Hank nodded, a look in his eyes that she had only seen once before. “Bingham. Let’s bring him in.” 

A look that did not bode well in her pseudo-father. The unit started to move, walking away from her room.

“Hank,” she tried to call him back. But he kept moving. She tried again, “Hank!”

He still kept going. The space grew more and more between them so she choked out the one word that was guaranteed to get him to turn around. Sarah had only used it a handful of times in the time she had known him. 

“Dad,” 

Her father figure stopped walking abruptly and stilled before he turned around to face her. As did everyone else following him. But the brunette was only looking at Hank. “Don’t let the world blow up. You’ve always said you’re with me till the world blows up. So, please. Do not go over the edge. I know it’s so easy too. I know it’s Justin... But please, this guy isn’t worth it. He’s not. Please. Do this the right way.”

Hank licked his lips as he considered her words before he said, “I’ll be back later. After we close this case. I promise.”

He still had that damned look in his eyes as he turned and stalked off; Erin following behind him as she called his name. So she turned to Alvin and Antonio for help. 

“Don’t let him go over the edge.” At her words, both men sighed sadly and glanced at each other. 

“Please,” she pressed. Antonio spoke first, “I think we’ve already gone past that point Sarah.”

“Bingham shot you and Justin.” Justin is dead, went unsaid as he continued, “Left you both in the trunk of that car. Hank isn’t just going to forget that. Speaking as a father, I wouldn’t.” 

Al told her all of this in that soft voice of his. But she could hear the sympathy in his tone.

“I wouldn’t either,” Antonio admitted quietly. Their words which were probably meant to comfort her, did nothing of the sort. Her eyes started to water again, but she swiped at her eyes stubbornly. 

“We’re sorry, kid,” Al told her. Antonio nodded, “We know it’s not what you want to hear.”

They left soon after. Antonio with a sympathetic look. He started to say, “I hope you feel-” Better.

But the detective stopped abruptly and fell silent. He looked guilty for a moment as if to suggest such a thing after what happened. Sarah didn’t hold it against Dawson though. It’s just what you said when someone was in the hospital. Then he sighed, “I’m sure you’ll get through this.”

Nodding at her, the detective made his way out of her room. Olinsky, who had known her since Erin became Hank’s C.I. ruffled her hair. Like he used to do when she was a kid. 

“It’ll work itself out, kid. Just maybe not the way anyone wants it to.” Then he turned and nodded at both Olive and Teddy and followed behind Antonio.

The silence was back and she could take that. But what she couldn’t take were sad eyes that still lingered. She didn’t deserve sadness and comfort. She deserved anger. Anger that should be directed at her because Justin had stood in front of her and now he was… She inhaled shakily.

Sitting up even more up so she could turn her body to face her pseudo-brother and sister-in-law; she told them, “You two should go home,”

Both of them started to protest but she held up her hand. She looked at Teddy first. “You said you’ve been here since this morning and I know you don’t sleep on public transportation. You have keys to all over our places. Use them and find somewhere to sleep. I’m-” 

The brunette almost said she was okay. But that wasn’t right. She cleared her throat, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Four hours minimum won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes shifted to Olive, “Who has the little monster right now?”

“Tucker,” Justin’s best friend since middle school.

“Oh, I bet Autumn is having a field day with that.” Sarah huffed a barely there laugh, despite why they were having this conversation and Olive laughed watery, nodding her head. Then sobered as quickly as the laughter has come.

“We haven’t told her about anything yet, he wants to find a way to explain it that is age appropriate. Right now she thinks it’s just a very long play-date. Tuck said he’d keep him till I got back and then he’d be by to see you after Autumn went to sleep later tonight.”  

“Go and be with Danny. He’s probably confused.” She told Olive softly, “He’s not used to being away from either of you for more than a day right? He’s going to need you now more than ever.”

“We don’t want you by yourself, Sarah. Stop trying to isolate yourself.” Teddy said after sharing a look with Justin’s wife. From the look also in Olive’s eyes, she knew what Sarah was trying to do too. 

“I’m just sitting here. There’s really nothing you can do.” Sarah continued to protest as Connor said from his place in the doorway, “I’ll be here with her. She won’t be by herself.”

They shared another look and Teddy nodded with a small shrug. Justin’s wife met her eyes once more and she nodded. Then she reached down and squeezed the brunette’s hand. “Okay, we’ll leave. But we know what you’re doing and Sarah, no one blames you for what happened.”

Except for herself.

“This isn’t your fault. Come on, Teddy, if you want you can come with me.”

“And can you tell Tucker that tonight isn’t the best time to visit me? I’m just…a little overwhelmed and not the best company right now.”

The frown on Olive’s face deepened a little at Sarah’s words but nodded her reluctant acceptance without any protest as she and Teddy made their way out of the hospital room. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Then it was just her, the numbing silence, and Connor. She broke the silence in a quiet, almost inaudible voice, “You really don’t have to stay. I’m sure I can occupy myself for a while. You can go home or go back to work.”

“You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Teddy is right and you’re trying to push everyone out of here.” His voice was trying to be light but it missed its mark because that’s what she was trying to do. She was trying to isolate herself.

“I want to and besides everyone, myself included, don't think you should be alone right now. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.” 

“I’m-” Fine. She cut herself off, grinding her teeth together as she fisted the fabric of her hospital blanket. Sarah was about to say she was fine but that wasn’t true. There was a hole in the side of her neck and her best friend was gone. She looked down at her lap. It was her fault. No matter what anyone said Justin was gone because of her.

Connor remained silent and waited because he didn’t want to push her. All he could do was remain there and remind her that he was there for her.

“Connor, they said you requested they page me? Is something wrong?” Ava entered the room in a hurry, breaking the mournful silence, and then brightened when she saw her patient was awake, “Reese, it’s good to see you awake.” 

Then why didn’t it feel like it? Sarah questioned in her head as she resisted the urge to pull the covers back over her head like she did this…Wait. Yesterday morning. It was yesterday morning because she had slept through the day yesterday. Teddy had said he had only gotten there this morning. Guilt pooled once more in her stomach at the thought of Justin passing and her blissfully unaware. Her fists were almost white as the hospital blanket she had in her grip.

When Reese didn’t respond, Ava looked at Connor, who studied his lover for a moment. His gaze moved to look at the blonde, who was imploring him silently for some information. He mouthed the word: Justin. Her eyes widened as he cleared his throat and explained why he had her paged. Ava nodded, sliding her doctor mask back into place, “Okay, thanks. Sarah, I’m going to check you out again. Now that you’re awake and can let me know if you have any concerns then we can remove the neck brace.”

“Rhodes,” the surgeon addressed him snarkily, “Go get a cup of coffee or something.” 

Connor held back a slight chuckle. He knew what she was doing. His partner in the field was trying to give his lover a sense of normalcy and Ava was busting his balls. That was normal. 

And there was also the fact that now that they knew Sarah was going to be okay, Ava’s kind of truce with him was over and Ava’s regular sarcastic and snarky attitude toward him was back in full force. He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but it was a welcome change. Ava being back to normal with him meant his Sarah was on the upswing. 

Still, he looked at the curly-haired brunette in the hospital bed. Though he knew why his colleague was shooing him from the room, that didn’t make his reluctance to leave any easier. Especially with Sarah being so quiet and withdrawn now. He understood why she acting this way, but That didn’t mean he had to like it. Unclenching her fists from the blanket as gently as he could; he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back.”   

He left and came back thirty minutes later with an energy drink in hand, stopping just by the nurse’s station when he saw Ava still there. But Sarah no longer had her neck brace and the female heart surgeon looked to be just about done. She was raising the bed rail as she told the curly-haired brunette, “You don’t even have to finish it. I just want you to attempt a smoothie. See how it goes.”

When her patient remained silent, Connor heard Ava sigh and give an ultimatum. “I don’t want to Reese, but you said all you had yesterday was half a protein bar for breakfast. I understand you’re not hungry and can even understand it. But you know your body needs nutrients to heal. It’s either you try a smoothie or I hook you up to an IV. I won’t have you getting dehydrated.”

“Okay.” Sarah agreed in a quiet voice. Ava continued in a softer voice, “And I’ll send a nurse in with something to put on your wrists to help with the itching so they don’t get more irritated.”

His lover nodded mutely. Ava made to leave, but Connor saw her turn back at the last minute and heard her speak quietly, and sincerely. “I am sorry about Justin Voight, Sarah.” 

Sarah looked back up, tears gathering in her eyes. “Me too.” 

Ava left the room and caught sight of him standing by the nurses' station. Making her way over to him she sighed quietly. “She’s claiming she’s not hungry, but she hasn’t eaten in a day, almost two now. And not much at that.”

Connor nodded because knew the protein bars Sarah was so fond of for breakfast. He had taken to keeping them in stock for her in his kitchen. On a good day, she ate two back-to-back to fill herself up because they really weren’t that big, to begin with. 

Ava continued, “And I know they couldn’t keep it from her. She has a right to know. Justin Voight is dead. But I just wished I had gotten here sooner to put something on her stomach before her grief had a chance to set in. Her body needs the sustenance to help her heal.”

“I’ll try to get her to drink the smoothie when it’s brought up,” Connor reassured her. The blonde nodded, “It’s either that or I have give her an IV and I figure you’ll apply the ointment to her wrists too.”

“Aloe Vera with lidocaine for the pain?” He asked. It’s what he would give Sarah. She nodded once more, “I can’t wrap them. They’re too agitated to bandage. A wound like that needs to breathe.”

“Anything else I need to know before I go back in there?”

Ava shrugged. “She asked if we could switch her medication? Something to make her feel less floaty? Her words, not mine. I’m going to look into it, but I’m not sure what else to give her that would subside the pain as well as the one she’s on now. I also redressed the bandage on her neck.”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah had her arms wrapped around her knees and her forehead pressed to them when he came back. Touching her back softly, he pointed out to her gently. “You’re going to agitate your wound if you sit like that too long.” 

The brunette inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath before she allowed him to coax her to lean back against the bed properly. There were tears in her eyes, but she rubbed at her face roughly. As if sheer force would be enough to remove any evidence of her crying. 

But Connor didn't understand why she was fighting her feelings. He bit back a sigh. There was a reason he was a surgeon and not a psychiatrist. Still, he found himself saying, “Sarah, I know-”

“No you don’t.” She mumbled. He nodded as he fell silent, not wanting to push her but he squeezed her hand. A silent offer. Rubbing at her nose, she started to explain. 

“It was supposed to be me. I was always meant to be the one living on borrowed time. Not Justin.”  At his alarmed expression, she raised a hand to stop the concerns he was bound to have from how quickly his mouth opened. “I know how that sounds okay? Just let me try to explain okay?” 

An uneasy look settled in his blue eyes, but Connor nodded hesitantly. She continued, “Hank and his wife took Erin and me in when we were kids. I was eleven. Before that my childhood was rough and I know you’ll have more questions later, but for now, we’ll just leave it at that. Rough. Rough enough that on my first day in their house, I was angry and scared. Angry because I was too young to know that the guy, Erin and I had been staying with previously was a scumbag. And scared because I thought this was my last stop before Erin and I were split up. I thought I was putting up a good front though.”

She paused slightly while her eyes moved to look at her lap. “Justin though…he saw right through me.  He told me his parents, his Dad would keep me safe. And I told him…” 

A humorless laugh passed through her lips, “I told him it wouldn’t matter, because being the cynical eleven-year-old I was, I thought I wouldn’t live past my sixteenth birthday. I was just living on borrowed time and being safe for a week, maybe two wouldn’t make a difference.” 

“Oh, Sarah,” Connor whispered, not quite believing what he was hearing. But his heartbreaking all the same. Sarah shook her head as he moved so he was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. Reaching out, he cupped her face and rubbed her cheeks soothingly as her tears fell silently. 

“I know it’s fucked up. I knew it was fucked up to begin with, because what eleven year doesn’t think they’ll live to see their sixteenth birthday? But it’s how I felt at the time. Do you know what I thought when the gun was pointed at me? When the safety clicked off?”

Connor didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to but that’s okay because it was a rhetorical question. 

I thought that I had been right. I was just living on borrowed time, I just got when I was going to die wrong.  And now, with Justin gone, I have that damned conversation stuck in my head. On repeat, because I was the one who said I was living on borrowed time. Not him. Not when he just had a kid and was in a really good place. It was supposed to be me and the only damn reason it wasn’t…is because he tried to protect me.”

“Baby,” he whispered, still rubbing at her cheeks soothingly. He didn’t tell her anything was going to be okay. It’s not what she needed right now and Connor didn’t think she’d hear him anyways.  

“It was supposed to be me,” she sobbed and he dropped his hands from her face in favor of moving farther up the bed. Careful not to agitate her wounds or any of the wires attached to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Curling himself very delicately into her good side, he hugged her tight as he was willing to with her injuries.

“It was supposed to be me,” she repeated the sob, turning her head into his neck. With each wail of sadness, his body shook. But Connor endured it because Sarah needed him to be her rock right now. She needed someone to just be there. So Connor would be that for her right now. That unmovable force.

“It was supposed to be me,” she sobbed over and over, breaking his heart a little more each time. Still, he held her, whispering soothing nonsense in her ear. But never telling her it would be okay or anything close to it. It would be with time of course, but she didn’t need to hear that right now. 

Right now, she just needed him to just hold her and be her rock. Everything else could wait for later.

[eneiryu]

Hi! as an avid and long-time reader of your fics, i have noticed that there's a pattern in the way you make Thiam kiss for the first time. From what I've read, they usually don't discuss their feelings at all, until one of them kisses the other out of the blue, very spontaneously, brutally and confidently that the other reciprocates

I've always wondered what is it you like about writing them like that and how it ties into your characterization of them, that they always kiss each other that way? (hope i'm being clear, english is not my first language)

A very intriguing question!

For me, it definitely ties in to how I see them. As anyone who has read at least one of my fics can tell you, I write my Theo self-sabotaging and sure of everything but Liam, and how Liam feels about him. But at the same time, so helplessly tangled up in Liam and everything Liam represents for him, that it’s this constant push-pull type dynamic, where Theo is always at once drawn to him, while at the same time I think scared all to hell at the depths of his feelings for Liam, the kind of power that that might give someone (including Liam) over him. And that’s not even mentioning the guilt, since I write Theo as so guilt-ridden and sure that he’s unforgivable, that having something as deep and meaningful as the kind of relationship he could have with Liam is just—something he doesn’t think he’s allowed to have.

And for Liam, I think it’s a parallel, but different, dynamic. Liam isn’t guilty, he isn’t scared of his own feelings (inasmuch as they’re not his anger, and the way that makes him lose control), but I think he is scared of doing something “wrong,” and hurting someone with his supernatural strength. I also think Liam is aware of how young he is, and potentially how naive, and that there’s a lot about the world—especially the darker parts of it—that he doesn’t or struggles to understand. And so when it comes to Theo, I think he knows (as is obvious) that Theo has a lot of baggage, Theo is not naive, and that while he’s drawn to Theo, there’s a lot about him that he doesn’t understand. And I think he’s scared of somehow being the next thing that does Theo damage, even unintentionally?

And so for me, when they get to those first kisses in a lot of my stories, I think in about 50% they’ve gone through so much together through the course of whatever plot I just wrote, that the kiss is almost…punctuation? There’s no need to talk about it, because they’ve just spend 50-100k words showing each other how much they care. Talking about it would be superfluous—they already know, and in a way much deeper than talking could prove. After all, if nothing else, Theo is an extremely talented liar—I doubt he’d trust much of what could be said in advance, but being shown? That’ll work with him.

And then in the other 50%, I think it’s actually that one of the other is absolutely unsure of the kind of reaction they’re going to get, but they’re just kind of so—bursting at the seams with feelings or energy or whatever, that they can’t hold it in anymore. And at least with a kiss, they’ll know. There’s no more hemming or hawing, no more “does the other person like me or not”—if the kiss goes well, great! And if it doesn’t, at least they’d know. And sometimes the relief that offers is worth more than the risk.

Anyway! An extremely long-winded answer, apologies. Hope that made any kind of sense whatsoever? 😬

[phlve]

IT(N) — Introverted Thinking supported by Intuition

Analytical, interested primarily in the underlying principles, organized in relation to concepts and imagination. Perceptive, not dominating, decisiveness of thinking only shows within intellectual matters. Quiet, reserved, detached and usually aloof. Inclined towards shyness. Won't be convinced by anything except intellect - reasoning, explanation and theoretical logic. Serious and usually focused on the dark, sad side of life. Pessimism can achieve a state of reactive depression. the idea of working in a slowed. in conversations almost does not participate. occasionally interiects. serious mood. serious ethical position. Passivity in activities related to the charges seriously, timidity, indecisiveness, no carelessness and gaiety, a strong perception of heavy experiences, sometimes tearfulness. A sense of inferiority, fluctuations in the choice of fields of activity, passive in life, calm, apathetic, lack of energy and activity, honesty, kindness, slowness, clumsiness, not laughs heartily, neat clothing, difficulty in making decisions. Tries to see and create from everything a system of some core level natural laws and patterns, frameworks and structures of directed thinking, impersonal rationality. Has many interests and much knowledge, but don't like to advertise this fact and be in the center of attention. In their essence, they are precise and pedantic, not only in the way of thinking but also in how they relate to the world around them. You will scarcely meet a person believing in miracles and trusting in luck among representatives of this type. Consistency, reliability, ability to stick to their word - all of these are typical of representatives of this type. Generally excessively extensive knowledge of most philosophical principles, mathematical logic and theories, formulas etc. He knows how to dig to the essence of things, to reveal their internal structure. He sets for himself very high requirements, specific orders and devotion to an idea or a set of rules, varies on manifestation. Unless somebody else takes care of him, he can easily drive himself to starvation. Usually he even does not notice the quality of his clothing. He does not tolerate orders. He does not show much initiative, is reclusive and silent. "Sorry, I'm too scattered to learn about politics. I just learn about math/engineering.". This type often carries around a childish, autistic personality. "The world is the way I see it. If you have evidence that it's not the way I see it, too bad for the world. Anyway it is not my business; just keep your opinion to yourself. I think the world should be exactly how I see it".

Many idiosyncrasies, distinct lack of emotional maturity; he can only love or hate, his feeling doesn't come with nuances. Fails to understand social interactions, disconnected from ambients - social ineptitude. Eccentric, may have problems understanding the law, the common sense. Some manifestations of the type are more immature, more bizarre. Can be stubborn, won't stand being interrupted, hates when people argue with each other, can't live in a place where people are always discussing. "I won't perform plebeian tasks such as driving!"; extremely "anti-social" in a sense. Doesn't realize at all how he affects other people, thinks that he is always right, that he has a right to do what he might do. Assumes things about people, accuses people and expresses "anti-mainstream" preferences. Geeky, nerdy, not very adult, more like a teenager or a kid. Uses difficult, complicated language, tries to explain things in very solid and tangible terms, tries to show the structures and principles, oriented to dissect all multiplicities; creator of concepts, philosophical, a person of many ideas, theories. Carries with him personal conclusions able to explain and analyse the world. His logic is one of identifying order in apparent chaos, a parallel, polymorphic, multi-leveled logic, logic of contradictions and paradoxes, explaining the complicated. Justifications and assumptions from different viewpoints. Points out differences and inconsistencies in everything. Anxious, paranoid indecisiveness, prone to overthinking. Intolerance of uncertainty, black and white thinking. Focuses on probability, tries to isolate, abstract, the pure substance of things; won't accept changes in his behaviour or world. He sharply reacts to reprimands, but sometimes hides his irritation under an artificial smile. Does not second-guess, his decisions aren't based on intuitions, tries to avoid using faith. Uses premises. intellect, a set of forms of reasonings, logic. "My state is always adequate to the external world, and my inner person is standard." "Why bother studying your inner self if building a world of harmony is so much more interesting and acute?", he typically chooses one of his standard states and dwells in it most of the time. The "inner core" is made by ethical norms and principles, which secure the integrity of their internal world. Likes puzzles and riddles, axiomatic work. Many manifestations of this type will seem robotic, have problems with social adaptation, social relationships, sexual relations and intimacy. Fears human contact, struggles with duty and jobs, washes his hands as often as he can, out of phobia concerned with sensations. Worried about the food he eats, wonders if something's healthy or not. Very inclined to hypochondriasis or immoderation; he doesn't know how much to eat, needs to rely on logic and systematization.

His deficiency Is human relationships, which sometimes results in uncertainty and sadness in emotional evaluations o other people. This becomes especially evident in unfamiliar circumstances. Watching others, he tries to understand what is accepted in this company, what is favored, and what is rejected. But he cannot always adapt to other people and to new social situations. He may be cheerful or sullen out of place. Due to his weakness in differentiating emotional nuances, representatives of this type often see people in black and white colors: good or bad, kind or unkind, friend or foe. They are also sometimes viewed as stubborn and hard to persuade. They cannot stand untruth and falsity, and can be very firm and solid like a rock in matters of principle to them. Some versions may have a lack of genuine identity - they do not know themselves, everything "depends". Context is always important, they need all the details and information. Would answer 'neutral' or 'I do not know many times if asked about his own personality and character. "I understand everything better than others" - some manifestations think too much of themselves, egomaniac, may argue about intelligence (IQ, mathematics etc) and demonstrate to people his intellect, "intellectual superiority", tries to correct people's illogical behaviour. He loves positive emotions of other people, as if they charged. Moves towards the reigning "most positive" emotions, positive emotions and avoid places of high concentration of negative. He dislikes situations of intrigue, scandal-mongering, since in such a situation can become a victim of their own. Therefore it is always bad refers to the "whispering a secret", seeing it as evil intentions. The relationship people always have to be open, honest, kind. Word about the relationship must always coincide with the chores, or - there is something wrong. Saying that you love a person - this has to be seen and, in fact, and if in fact it is not visible - it means it's not true. Very suspicious in regard to himself and others, suspecting some "zapodlo", even if it's some tiny little thing, already strives either immediately break off relations, or exclude a person from the number of "friends", relatives of people currently, reducing contact with him to a minimum. Therefore, it may sometimes be known as a traitor, finding those who belong to it better is out there and to relocate, considering it is a strong argument for changing the "range". It may become a victim of "sycophants".

[ciaran]

ok ok ok i told myself i was gonna write this so im going to write it even htough its not going to make any sense and i am not actually doing anything and everything sucks. but we live in a shitsuck world so i am gonna write my dumb little thoughts down.

mo du spoilers ahead and discussions of triggering topics

anyway so. the thing abt the last book of mo du which is a v recognisable thing to happen and i Get It as an author like i truly do despite the longest thing ive ever written having been 50k of unhinged word vomit about feeling profoundly isolated from reality. i am the shit king of things that are too complicated and simple and that make no sense and plot is not my strong point as an author and i could not have done better. but i truly believed that priest could. anyway the thing that happened is that the last book was just not good lmao and it was not good for a few very particular reasons that were EASILY rectified by having a team of good alpha readers who are willing to slap you over the head and tell you to make a damn decision.

the thing is that before that mo du IS good and my idea for what should have happened in the last arc WAS SET UP BY THE NARRATIVE! i was not an idiot for thinking that that was what would happen! its just that she refused to go there for two critical reasons

she felt like she wouldnt have enough time to resolve this plot point

she didnt want to introduce a new major trauma before the end

she didnt trust her characters to get through it

she had set up a moral system in which once u commit murder u are irretrievable from The Abyss (as proven by that one dead cop's daughter idr her name but she killed a cop by accident)

that's more than 2 but i am a lit crit bitch not a numbers bitch. moving on.

she WOULD have had time to resolve this plot point if she had simplified her plot by a few threads. that cult shit was not necessary. the fact that the mysterious organization had someone within working to bring about its downfall was a great touch that didnt go far enough. there was a parallel between fan siyuan and fei du that was never fully explored and that was a waste of both their characters.

fei du needed to Go Through Something and he just did not. he needed to suffer a major moral injury in order for that arc to work - he needed to kill his father, or be mindbroken by being submerged in the abyss. the abyss needed to affect him. instead he is untouched which is awful. where are The Horrors of finding yourself at home among monsters! where is the Relief of not needing to mask, and wondering if this might just be better, if its not a little joyous to not care about morality and goodness. where is the Fear and the Self-Hate and the moral conflict between wanting to become your worst self and wanting to slip back into a comfortable orbit. where is the CRISIS OF FAITH!

but that's the thing, she didn't trust luo wenzhou to be able to handle fei du like that. she knows lwz can handle fd when he's being like "im gonna atticwife you shixiong" while clearly being a wet bedraggled catboy but she doesnt know if lwz could handle fd while hes laughing maniacally and trying to decide between killing his father, zhou chunliang, and fan siyuan. not that fd can handle a gun's recoil but that's not the relevant part. she didn't know if lwz could see fd at his worst and still love him but he CAN! he's a little crazy too let him find it kinda hot when fd struts around masterminding complicated criminal plots.

i truly think that showdown should have had lwz as a captive audience so fd experiences terrible feelings. OR fd should have actually HAD TO kill his father, no take-backs, no last minute outs. murder that vegetable. pull the fucking PLUG piglet. he should have to live with patricide even if he's never going to be charged with anything. lwz should have to live with loving a guy who was forced to have blood on his hands. let him have nightmares for the rest of his life about the closure he craved for so long.

but this goes back to priest's issue with MORALITY. the morality of the mo du universe is very clearly slanted into people being either GOOD or BAD and once you cross the line you can NEVER COME BACK. there is no complexity offered to the characters and there SHOULD HAVE BEEN! fan siyuan was a horrible person but what if he felt like he didnt have a choice? what if he was just like fei du and HIS lwz died? u cant tell me that fan siyuan wasnt in love w that one guy whose photo he was trying to see in his last moments. show me the beauty under the rot. what if fei du was pushed over the line? could he still be allowed to have some light? could lwz LET HIM? and i truly think lwz can, it's fd who cant let himself have that. but fd needed some confounding factors in his worldview.

call me a whump lover but i love when theres major trauma at the end of a book but it's still slanting to a happy ending. i like a hint of bitterness, a hint of "it will never be okay but at least we have each other." it's good.

anyway when mac and i were talking about this mac also suggested that fd walking into the abyss could have been very effective as a trust fall, a sign that he KNOWS that lwz will come for him and pull him out and not let him get lost in the evilsauce. and i agree w that being hot but i also have a personal preference for fd having a crisis of faith and lwz having a crisis of faith and both of them realizing in the end that they did choose each other and they still have each other

but priest chickened out of Challenging her Characters at the end and that just meant the whole thing rang soooo hollow. big grief. mz priest i will give u one dollar and my heart if u write an alt ending

get rid of that cult shit, get rid of the moral black and whiteness, let fei du sink into hell and kill his dad and be pulled out and dusted off and loved anyway. forgive some of the people who wandered into it without meaning to. let lang qiao and xiao haiyang kiss. The End

[urdinosaurs]

Hi, so on your miles thing, (idk what else to call it because I am still learning english, feel free to ignore this)

I honestly feel like that anon about being a little controlling has a good point, a bit of a personal experience, when someone i was close with died due to neglecting health on their own part. I started to become rather 'obsessed' with making sure others were healthy, which has now calmed down now that I have realized health isn't always predictable and it isn't healthy.

but the full on toxic fics I have read, there is a difference between trying to progress grief and just being full on toxic/abusive.

of course everybody griefs in a different way, but it just feels so weird when people try to justify abusive behavior on grief.

Anyways sorry for the rant and if I repeated things a lot-

(I honestly love how you explained everything and things, you are really good with words)

Sorry for the late reply. My life has been really hectic and crazy, but thank you, and don't worry, your English is really good.

I know people have dropped the topic, but I still want to put in my opinion because I totally get what your saying, and that wasn't really something I discussed on my last rant, so let me do it here because you have an excellent point. I talked about toxic fics in general and pertaining to Miles's character, but I forgot about his grief in my explanation.

So, to elaborate, yes, you are right. When going through something as traumatic as Miles did and losing someone that close to you can prompt many types of coping mechanisms. (the most I believe would ever happen is him being emotionally unavailable/neglectful because of what he went through, and at that point, he wouldn't even be in a relationship because of it, but that's my theory, so it doesn't apply to this.)

But being toxic because of his grief is a no-go. See the fics I've read, Miles is toxic because of how much he cares or how little he does, not that it makes it any more right, but it's not a coping mechanism, just a part of who he is and the fact that people are trying to say grief is responsible abuse is crazy. It's an incredibly sensitive topic when people go there, and it takes the conversation to another level.

We shouldn't be treating this like it's normal.

That's where people need to educate themselves if they are so far in their own bubble that they can't see what's wrong with that. And with so many people writing him like this, it normalizes abuse (not even going to say toxic because we are beyond that point), and that's not at all okay by any stretch of the imagination.

I haven't seen any fics on Toxic!Miles (actually toxic, not hard abuse) where it's because of his grief, so there is only so much I can add.

I think it seems like he's so emotionally unavailable by the little reactions or mannerisms he displayed in the movie. I am not trying to justify it, but with the little of him we see is so cold and appearing apathetic, it's easy to make the correlation he's like that in all aspects of his life, which, for all we know, he is.

Though I see many arguments that e-42 and e-1610 are parallel universes or that the Miles we know would never do that, why would this version of him be that way? To which I say nothing is confirmed, and you shouldn't spread misinformation because it never once said he was in a parallel universe. The book, which doesn't count because the information is not in the movie, so it's an unreliable source, says he comes from an alternate dimension. We know that not every version of one person is the same across universes.

But really, it boils down to writers not realizing what's wrong with this. Lack of exposure to this kind of content or over-exposure to content where this is normalized is responsible for it. So I genuinely think that newer writers or younger writers just don't see the harm in it because either they've never experienced it, or it's normalized to the point where it's seen as romantic, which divides many of us. Younger audiences aren't experienced enough to see how harmful this actually is, and that's why they are getting so possessive over their work because, to them, they did nothing wrong, and you're just being too sensitive.

(don't even get me started on the 18+ writers who write "toxic!Miles" when it's really just him being emotionally abusive. In your grown age, you should know better and put such warnings that this is not okay.)

Also, there is a line that people often cross and get carried away with in writing toxic characters. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TOXIC CHARACTERS AND CHARACTERS THAT ARE TOXIC.

Toxic!characters are an AU or Canon divergence. Characters that are toxic are what you genuinely believe they're like. See, I don't have much of a problem with toxic!Characters, it's an AU; you know this is wrong and not legitimately what they're like and acknowledge that this behavior is harmful and label it as such. I enjoy a good toxic AU or touching on toxic behavior occasionally, too.

Headcanoning characters, on the other hand, is what has people in such a fit. This is harmful, and you are treading on a line so thin you should take ten steps back, especially with a character who is a minor. Writers who so flippantly make him emotionally neglectful or controlling are a little weird.

The cause of this, or what I believe it is, is the glamorization of emotional abuse, controlling, possessiveness, etc... Media has a lot to do with this (TV shows and movies) where this is accepted as a desirable thing to happen and desensitization to the content blurs the line or right and wrong and is often the cause fantasies to made from this topic.

So, in conclusion, I don't think people realize what they are doing is wrong, and social media and films are often the cause of this. Bringing awareness to the subject and how it is harmful is vital, and this whole controversy is definitely an eye-opener for many people. It's good we are discussing this because that way, writers can know better and be better educated in the future.

Anyways, thanks for listening to my 925 word rant. :)