#b/c if i don't do it now

[gloriousmonsters]

love when you can ask the Narrator why the Princess is a Princess and he's like 'well i uhhhh YOU did that. maybe it's because uh... something something about her being above you... but still approachable... look i don't want to analyze or anthropomorphize your--' my guy. i am a primal being of Order and Eternity and Shaping. You're the one who convinced me I was some dude and were quite willing to take credit for shaping my view on the world through narration five seconds ago. Are you gonna look me in the eye and tell me the desire to interpret something worthy of adoration and more powerful than me as a dommy princess is written in the very nature of the universe or are you going to show me your browser history like a man

[tblsomedoodles]

Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[ask-spiderpool]

Dear mod. I just wanted to ask how you're doing atm? Are you eating good food and sleeping well?

Oh bless you, anon! Regrettably, neither of those things, no. My appetite has been very poor since my surgery, and I'm more than a little sleep deprived with all the jobs I'm juggling at the moment - buuut... I'm alive. My head is good. My work is good. Always manage to make everyone happy, oh, yes sir, but can't wait to pass out for a whole day and then hang out with some friends. It'll heal me.

[chaos0pikachu]

man some of y'all have never learned the home training of "keep your hate/critique out the main tags and on your own blog or in critical tags" and then wonder why ppl be vagueblogging or reblogging with disagreements like you didn't show up to the crochet lovers group telling everybody how crocheting was actually Not Fun At All and really hard and doesn't make sense to enjoy, or Problematic, actually instead of keeping it in the group chat with the haterella besties

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[andy-clutterbuck]

3x12 | Clear

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[triaelf9]

sees a post that's like "LOOK, LOOK AT ME I HAVE TERRIBLE MEDIA LITERACY LOOOOK AHAHA ISN'T THAT FUNNY"

Checks bio

"I'm 21"

Ah, yes. You're in the age group to have been hit by the resurgence of purity culture. I'm so sorry.

[spaciebabie]

socializing w/ppl when you have bucket loads of trauma from past abuse is so hard b/c has this person accidentally triggered me unknowingly and now I feel like I'm being backed into a corner or are they actually trying ta hurt me. they both feel the same and finding the rationality ta be like, "they misspoke or used language that they didn't know would hurt me" is extremely difficult!

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Cold Winter Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 凛冬之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Translation under the cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

[anika’s notes]: I do very very very highly recommend to watch the video for full immersion + absolute god-level voice acting + the gorgeous music pieces!!! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

—

【Prologue】

I behold  My homeland disappear in the daylight, and emerge in the night.  I behold  The everlasting power engrain within the vast blood of my people.  I behold  A snow-white rose bloom in the winter,   And I behold as it withers in the winter – each petal sailing across the ocean,  To a kingdom no one can reach. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 1】

As the night gradually deepens, the heavy curtains in front of the window are drawn by the attendants, veiling the silvery, meandering moonlight. 

I take a deep breath and push open the doors to the royal bedchamber engraved with a luxurious imperial coat of arms. 

Inside the bedchamber, my newly wedded husband, King Victor, is fast asleep. 

Not long ago, at the behest of my father, Duke William, I was betrothed to Victor.  

Regrettably, before the ceremony could be held, my parents died of ailing health. 

However, the wedding was not delayed due to the unexpected tragedy, and the ceremony proceeded as scheduled, with the Church as witness. 

After all, to those people, what mattered the most was not the protagonists of the wedding, but the wedding ceremony itself. 

–– That’s right, it’s not just me; even the king, Victor, is not held with significance in their eyes. 

After all, it’s known to everyone in the capital that the royal family’s influence is eroding with each passing year. And since Victor succeeded to the throne, he remains in a coma all year round and is merely a puppet in the hands of the Church and nothing more. 

The elusive fragrance of beeswax pervades the air in the room. I step on the soft woolen carpet and draw closer to the bedside. [1] 

Lately, the capital has been shrouded in a haze of doubts and suspicion regarding the disappearance cases, and it was not the appropriate time for grandeur. Therefore, after the hasty wedding, I was ushered into the imperial palace. 

And tonight marks the third night I’m spending alongside His Majesty, the King, who’s been in a state of perennial coma. 

Victor is still in a deep slumber. 

The light from a few candles illuminates one side of his profound features, while the lingering shadows dance across his face as if with fondness. 

Throughout the generations, the kings have always been in robust health. But during Victor’s reign, his health has been continuously plagued with illness. 

It seems even the gods cannot bear to be too cruel to him. His illness has only brought a touch of frailty but has not marred his looks. 

I inhale softly and sit on the edge of the bed, propping my chin up as I gaze at Victor in his slumber. 

MC: ...why are you still sleeping? 

I’ve already started to grow accustomed to this— the bedchamber echoing only my own whispered monologues. 

MC: I thought the Church was so wary of you because you had some secrets that were unknown to the outsiders.

MC: Now it seems your biggest secret is that you were born this good-looking. 

I crack a joke to myself, which also lightens my mood considerably. 

MC: When I think about it this way, being married to you is far better than being forced by the Church to marry one of those evil, rotten old men. 

In addition, within the palace, at least, there are no hypocritical relatives and those ever-watchful eyes— 

I have enough space to contemplate my plan for revenge. 

MC: Revenge... revenge...  MC: But how can I go about taking revenge on the Church... 

Clutching a corner of Victor’s blanket, I cover my face with it in anguish. 

The Church conspired to murder my parents. 

Because my father was a leader of the reformist faction, they extended their malicious hands targeting my family. 

And this marriage, which was arranged by my parents, is now being wielded as a means to threaten my life. 

As I ponder on this, the resentment in my heart swells. I heave a sigh, deciding to change my mood and say something interesting. 

I sporadically recount some happy and entertaining anecdotes from the past, treating Victor as a well-behaved “sleeping beauty doll.”

MC: ...in autumn, you know, there wasn’t much to do. Winter, in comparison, was way more fun.  MC: When I was young, what I loved doing the most was building little snowmen in the courtyard of the duke’s mansion after it snowed. Look, I could make them this big— 

Of course, Victor can’t see any of this, and there’s no hope for a response either. After mustering the spirit to prattle on for a while, all I am left with is endless emptiness. 

I tug at the corners of my lips, forcing a smile, and as if driven by some strange impulse, I reach out and poke Victor’s face, wishing to get him to have the same expression as me. 

MC: Sigh, it’s no fun. I won’t say anything more.  ??(Victor): Why won’t you say anything more? 

An icy voice suddenly sounds in my ears, carrying with it the raspiness of just being awakened. 

I turn my head and nearly let out a scream. 

MC: Y-Your Majesty... when did you...! [2] 

I’m not sure when, but Victor has regained consciousness at some point. Leaning on a soft pillow, he rubs his temple with one hand.

Victor: I’m conscious, not revived back to life. 

MC: ... I’ll sincerely obey Your Majesty’s command! 

In a low voice, I respectfully offer him a curtsy. Victor seems to find my behavior amusing, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Victor: The term of address was “you” even just a moment ago. A certain someone changed her tune rather quickly. [3]    MC: I’m not “a certain someone,” I am...    Victor: I know, Duke William’s only daughter.    MC: [surprised] Eh...? 

Victor: At the age of seven, you received a scolding for building a snowman with the servants. When you were nine, you had a quarrel with a parrot and suffered a crushing defeat–– 

MC: Wait a minute, you... you heard all of that? 

Victor: You’re too noisy. It’d be hard not to hear, [breaks into a coughing fit] cough, cough... 

His words are cut off by a cough. I hastily pour a cup of water and offer it to him under his scrutinizing gaze, keeping silent. 

I can’t help but break into a cold sweat. 

Could it be that... all the past events I casually mentioned, all those self-deprecating remarks, and even... did he really listen to everything? 

But, two days ago, when I plucked up the courage to poke his face, he didn’t react at all... So, when did he actually become conscious? 

A vague, looming sense of oppression involuntarily makes me shrink my neck, and I tentatively open my mouth. 

MC: ...you know about everything regarding me? 

He tilts his jaw slightly upwards, studying my features. His eyes are submerged in the shadows cast by the candlelight, reminiscent of a predator in the dark night. 

A good while passes before he eventually accepts the cup, speaking in a tone that is neither amiable nor impassive. 

Victor: I do. 

I nod and, after a rapid mental calculation, make up my mind. I take a step forward, wearing a small smile on my face as I speak. 

MC: Including the fact that I was sent as a spy by the Church? 

Victor: [seemingly chokes on water] … 

Victor: Are you aware of what you’re saying?

MC: Yes, I’m aware. 

I wish to work together with the king to bring down the Church. 

And when working with a person like Victor, being transparent and honest is the first principle.

I crouch down at the edge of the bed, looking up at Victor from below. 

MC: Your Majesty, I don’t want to hide anything from you. 

MC: Prior to our nuptials, my parents were brutally attacked by the Church due to their advocacy for the reformation of the Church. 

MC: The Church, to exploit my worth, spared my life and assigned me to spy on you. 

Victor arches an eyebrow, clearly still assessing the credibility of my words. 

Victor: Continue. 

I press my lips together and lower my head, trying to convey my utmost sincerity. 

MC: ... I’m unsure of to what extent you know about me, but I’ve never once considered surrendering to the enemies who murdered my parents. 

MC: Now, in terms of both sentiment and reason, we are a family, and I cannot betray my husband. 

MC: So... Your Majesty, will you take me under your wings? 

I blink my eyes at him with a pitiful look, not knowing whether Victor would buy into it. 

Victor: … 

As if in need of a moment to compose himself, Victor seems to momentarily avert his eyes before he turns them back to me again. 

Victor: Family... you seem to have accepted your new identity quite readily. 

MC: Besides you, what else do I have to rely on? 

MC: On the contrary, even after hearing my confession, if you’re unwilling to help me, I don’t have anything to lose. 

I flutter my eyes at Victor. 

MC: Your Majesty, I’ve already got nothing left to lose. 

Victor holds a straight gaze on me. In his eyes, while there is finally a hint of recognition, it’s more as if he is peering into the past through me. 

Victor: ...I will help you. 

His well-defined hand sweeps my loose hair strands back for me. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief, the next second, my chin is cupped and pivoted to face him. 

Victor: The prerequisite is that you can offer sufficient value to me. 

His grip is surprisingly strong for someone who has just regained consciousness. As our eyes interlock, his penetrating gaze intently scrutinizes my innermost thoughts. 

Victor: In your eyes, your husband, whom you’d never met before, is nothing more than a puppet who remains in coma year-round, isn’t that right? 

Victor unfolds his hand to me, revealing a gem as vividly red as the human heart in his pallid palm, and then he encloses his hand— 

In the blink of an eye, the signs of illness are shed off his face, and a rosy hue colors his cheeks, and he seems to be bathed in a divine light. 

MC: This is... do you know witchcraft?! 

Victor places the gem back in its case, then casts a brief look in my direction, apparently turning a deaf ear to what I’ve said. 

Victor: This doesn’t concern you. 

He slowly curls his lips, and his pupils, akin to the deep sea in the darkness, are as profound and enigmatic. 

Victor: There’s a set of clothing on the bedside table. If you want to prove that you’re not just a noble canary— 

Victor: Tomorrow morning, change into it and accompany me out of the palace. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[1] Beeswax is often considered a symbol of “eternal love” in Eastern cultures. 

[2+3] During her monologues in the 1st quarter of the date, MC was addressing Victor by “你” (informal ver. of ‘you’) pronoun. But the moment he butts in, i.e., gains consciousness, MC immediately switches to “您” (courteous/ respectful ver. of ‘you’) and the respectful address “Your Majesty,” which he teases her about here, haha. 

Point to be noted: MC doesn’t switch back to the informal terms of addresses until the 3rd chapter of the date, when they’re already in love and inseparable for the time being. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

While I’m still struggling with myself, Victor has already closed his eyes again. 

Victor: You can sleep anywhere you want; just don’t make any noise. 

MC: ...Yes, Your Majesty! 

The idea of having this mysterious and aloof king sleeping next to my pillow feels more chilling to me than freezing in the cold itself. 

I don’t hesitate at all. I swiftly grab a pillow from the bed and get prepared to spend the night on the sofa. 

But it turns out I actually overestimated my ability to withstand the cold. Before the clock hands have even moved a few notches, I quietly tiptoe back to the bed, hugging the pillow. 

MC: [to herself] It’s just that the weather is too cold. I just want to feel a bit nice and warm— 

With a huff, I murmur in a soft voice and gently lift the coverlet to slip inside. 

Once I’ve got my body settled comfortably, I cautiously look towards the person on the pillow next to me. 

Victor isn’t awakened by my movements. Even in the darkness of the night, his skin is luminously white, his features handsome— he is reminiscent of a sculpture crafted from snow. 

Considering this person’s track record of feigning sleep, I simply watch him quietly without making any more rash moves. 

As I continue watching like this, my mind inexplicably begins to wander. 

Although just moments ago, I kept addressing him as “my husband” repeatedly, when I look at Victor’s cold and handsome demeanor, I always find it difficult to connect him with that identity. 

In my impression, the image of a husband and wife is like that of my parents. So, in the future, will Victor and I also be joined at the hip and inseparable like that? 

Thinking about that reserved and unsmiling face, I can’t help but get chills. 

In his eyes, I seem to be nothing more than a “useful person.” But what value can I provide for him? 

The more I ponder, the more my head throbs, and it’s not until the horizon starts to turn slightly pale that I eventually drift into sleep. 

────���───── 

With the break of dawn, I promptly get out of bed and change my attire. Victor has woken up as well. 

Seemingly noticing the dark circles under my eyes, he arches an eyebrow, lifts his hand, and tosses a cloak over to me. 

Victor: It seems like while your courage is not at all small, your confidence sure is lacking. 

MC: I just don’t wish to unnecessarily show off in front of you. 

I fasten the cloak tightly and purposely straighten my neck. 

MC: Your Majesty, please lead the way. 

We exit the palace through a small gate, cross through the commoner’s district, and Victor leads me straight into a small house. 

────────── 

Going from the small house into the cellar, and after navigating through a labyrinth of winding pathways, the cramped field of view suddenly opens up to a wide panorama. 

Everyone: Your Majesties. 

I never anticipated that the entire hall would actually be filled with guards, all standing in a perfectly ordered formation. 

— To pull together an assembly of so many armed personnel, Victor must have spent a substantial amount of time, hasn’t he? 

I’m hardly able to restrain my inner shock as I think back to the frequent news in recent years of nobles associated with the close-knit sects being removed from power or inexplicably meeting tragic ends. Now, it seems... 

Every single person, myself included, severely underestimated this “dying” king standing before me. 

At this moment, Victor picks something up from the long table, and it’s only now do I notice that there are all kinds of torture equipment laid out on the table. 

The appearance of these torture instruments is menacing, and at their tips, dried blood remnants are still visible. 

Practically, the moment I get a good look at them, the reeking of blood and rust assaults my nostrils. I subconsciously cover my nose and mouth, tightly gripping the cuff of my sleeve. 

Subordinate: Reporting to Your Majesty, these are the “refining” equipment we found at the scene. 

Subordinate: But those people are as cautious as rats at dusk; we’ve only found these pieces of material evidence so far. The remains of the blood sacrifice are still being sought. 

Victor nods calmly, and once the arrangements are made, the guards depart in an orderly manner through various secret passageways. 

Victor and I are the only ones remaining in the large hall. I make a conscious effort to restrain myself from looking at those torture instruments, regulating the rhythm of my breathing. 

MC: Your Majesty, did you bring me here to witness something so horrifying to disclose some kind of truth to me? 

Victor: Face has turned pale, but still got some courage. 

A smile tinged with what appears to be praise appears on his face, as he takes out from his bosom the gem that resembles a human heart from last night. 

The crimson light radiating from the gem spreads across his cheeks, eerie yet bewitching. 

Victor: The purpose of all these blood sacrifices is to provide energy for this “Blood King Crystal.” 

My eyes widen in incredulity as I stare at the pulsating vivid red in his hand, sensing a faint inkling of what it might signify. 

MC: When you hold this Blood King Crystal, your complexion appear rosier, and you don’t cough as much... 

MC: Could it be that the Church officials want to extract energy from commoners to enhance their physical strength? 

Victor: Not the Church; it’s the Royal Family. 

Victor doesn’t shy away from nodding his head. He stares fixedly at the red gem that provides him with strength, but in his eyes, there is only icy coldness. 

Victor: The vitality and longevity of successive kings across the dynasties were all due to their possession of the “Blood King Crystals” that were assembled from the lives of countless ordinary people. 

Victor: The Church refines it, and the Royal Family uses it, thus resulting in the Royal Family being controlled by the Church from then on. 

Victor: And anyone who uncovers this secret will die. 

My thoughts go back to my parents, as well as the reformist cabinet ministers— could it be that they all had...? 

My heart immediately falls into a valley. 

I close my eyes for a moment, then fix my gaze firmly on the unwavering king before me, a king who has endured extreme hardships and made sacrifices to stand where he is now. [4] 

MC: Your Majesty, currently, there is a significant following of the Church among the populace. We must find the evidence of the blood sacrifices and bring it to light for everyone to see. 

MC: I will carry on my parents’ legacy and work alongside you to find evidence of the Church’s blood sacrifices. 

In those forever serene eyes of Victor’s, I see the glint of a smile. 

Victor: [assuredly with obvious happiness] It appears you’ve perfectly inherited the chivalry and wisdom of Duke William. 

MC: Well... it’s not entirely that. Whether in public or private matters, it’s only right that I stand by your side. 

I wink at him, half-jokingly breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere. 

MC: After all, I’m not only the daughter of Duke William. I am your wife and, more importantly, the queen of this country. 

Victor: Is that right? It doesn’t seem to me that a certain someone possesses the temperament of a queen. 

MC: Regarding that... I will work hard, so you can’t keep teasing me all the time. 

Victor laughs in spite of himself and reaches out his hand, gesturing for me to take his arm. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] Very well. My Queen, we should return now. 

────────── 

After coming out of the subterranean passageway, we follow the same path back. We were in a hurry when we came here. It’s only now do I take notice of the surroundings. 

In the nearby roadside, peddlers are selling fresh produce, while in the distant square, a group of less fortunate are circled around a fire, warming themselves and singing songs. 

The streets in the commoner’s district are intersected, narrow, poverty-stricken yet bustling with life, in stark contrast to the overwhelming dead silence of the royal palace. 

I hardly ever left the mansion, so I find myself unable to resist taking in the surroundings repeatedly. 

Victor: Does the Duke’s daughter find these things interesting? 

MC: ...no, no, I’m just looking around in passing, that’s all! 

Victor’s hand offhandedly adjusts a corner of my cloak. He takes a long stride, veering from the route back to the palace and heading in a different direction. 

Victor: That path is too narrow. Let’s stroll this way and get some fresh air. 

We slowly stroll along, taking in the surroundings as we walk. Not far ahead, there is a dilapidated small tavern. Victor gestures for me to take a look. 

Victor: I just suddenly recalled that you mentioned being curious when you were little and licking the snow with a fork. 

Victor: During winter, the iron cups in the tavern also have an element of sweetness. You should try it some other time. 

My scattered thoughts, fluttering around like wild and untamed grass, suddenly drop to the ground, and I can’t help but choke. 

MC: ...Your Majesty, are you teasing me? 

There is a slight curve at the tip of Victor’s brow as he gently curls the corners of his lips into a smile. 

Victor: [laughs softly] Perhaps I am, or perhaps, it is a sincere recommendation. 

MC: Could it be that you’ve drawn that conclusion after experiencing it firsthand? 

Victor: You could say that. 

Seeing him take the bait, a massive smile spreads across my face. 

MC: So, speaking of, does that mean that you’ve also stuck your tongue to an iron cup in the past? 

Victor seems to choke on his words for a moment. He shoots me a wordless look and walks forward, paying no mind to me. 

MC: [teasingly continues] So, did that really happen? Did it happen or not... 

We’ve almost circled the area surrounding the palace. Victor is tall and has long legs, but from the beginning, he has maintained a matching pace with me, making it so that I can always touch his shoulder by simply turning sideways. 

The weather is very cold today; my hands and feet are freezing, yet I deeply breathe in the bitingly chilly but liberating air. 

Even though I cannot purchase any dubious items to bring back to the palace, and even though I know the end of this path leads to the imperial palace that holds me captive— 

But perhaps because I have someone walking alongside me, I feel surprisingly at ease. 

In my sight, obscured by the chilling breeze, I see Victor squatting down and petting a skinny kitten at the corner of the alley. 

The cat stretches its body and lays down lazily under Victor’s hand, meowing. Victor smiles, and both of them then look at me together. 

Victor: [extremely softly] The winters in the future won’t be as chilling anymore. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[4] The idiom used here is “越王勾践,” which came to life from the true story of King Goujian. I’d encourage you guys to just even google and see the small wiki on him if you can. This idiom in and of itself is the essence of the date in terms of Victor’s perseverance, and how he imposes suffering on himself for the constant reminder of what it is he’s fighting for by refusing to use the “Blood King Crystal.” 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Victor soon announces the news of him regaining consciousness to the masses, sending waves of shock to everyone across the country. 

Amidst the reigning turmoil among the Church and the nobles, he proposes visiting the prominent noble households. 

In my capacity as the queen, I rightfully visit every noble residence with him, where we find numerous correspondences implicating the collusion between the nobles and the Church. 

The nobles kept the letters for the purpose of blackmailing the Church, both sides engaging in mutual exploitation, but they never once considered that there could be one day when they’d have to face the consequences. 

Using the letters as a starting point, a series of pivotal evidence regarding the Church’s blood sacrifice is unearthed through Victor’s thunderous methods. 

I, on the other hand, use my identity as an orphan of the reformers to help him win over the newly elevated nobles. More and more people begin to rally to our side... 

When a former subordinate of my father hands me a letter, as if in tacit agreement, both Victor and I simultaneously realize that the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. 

It’s about time for the verdict to be pronounced. 

────────── 

Tomorrow, Victor will convene a National Convention to expose the crimes of the Church to the masses. 

I can’t fall asleep, so I rise from the bed and pace around the bed chamber in my nightgown. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] If memory serves me right, the person set to address tomorrow is not the queen; it’s the king. 

He is lying in bed with drowsy eyes. Turning towards me, he speaks in a low, raspy voice, infused with a teasing tone. 

MC: ...I didn’t realize I’d wake you up despite the carpet being so thick. I guess I’ll just go outside and sleep elsewhere. 

As I drape on my outer garment and am about to head outside the chamber, my wrist is suddenly gripped from behind, pulling me back onto the bed. 

Victor: [in an overwhelmingly sensual tone] You’re the queen. Where do you plan on sleeping when you look like this? 

Tangled up in my thoughts, I have tousled my hair, causing it to become disheveled. Victor sighs, who then picks up a comb and sits behind me. 

Victor: [switches to an overwhelmingly tender tone] Dummy. What is there to be nervous about? 

The moderate pressure on my hair pacifies my restless heart. I rub my ears, which have heated up, trying to shift the topic of conversation to conceal my shyness. 

MC: In the past, when my father would go to visit the king, my mother would become anxious like this and often wouldn’t even be able to eat anything. 

Victor: So, what would happen next? I’m afraid the duke probably wouldn’t let his duchess remain in a constant state of worry. 

MC: Mm-hmm. Whenever this kind of situation arose, my father would always hold my mother’s hand... 

As I speak, I immediately begin to regret it a little. It feels like I’m sending a rather awkward hint. 

Without waiting for me to dwell on more embarrassing thoughts, Victor’s hand has already enveloped mine, and the warmth from his palm flows to my icy fingertips. 

His temperature is reminiscent of dandelions in a garden, floating gently, landing on my face and neck. 

We are the puppet king and queen, husband and wife in name only. Even though we reside together in the same bedchamber, we’ve never been this intimate. 

I feel a sensation as if a feather quill is caressing my throat, making it impossible for me to conceal the true feelings harbored in my heart. 

Reflexively, I tighten my grip on Victor’s hand and turn to face him. 

MC: Victor, to be honest, even though I never mentioned it before, I used to think you were quite unfeeling. 

Victor: There was no need to say it; it was written all over your face. 

Victor: Also, not addressing me as “Your Majesty” anymore? 

MC: In any case, you are not going to hold it against me now, will you? 

MC: During this period of time that I’ve spent with you, running here and there together, I’ve come to realize in every passing moment that I hardly knew anything about you before. 

MC: For instance, in the case of those Church henchmen, according to the old laws, their families should have been exterminated, but you chose to exercise your discretion and grant amnesty to those who were unaware. 

MC: And regarding the commoners who have fallen victim to the blood sacrifice, you’ve been supporting their families with long-term financial aid. 

MC: You always project an image of keeping people at a thousand-mile distance, but in reality, there is also a tender side to you. 

A flicker of astonishment crosses Victor’s eyes, but he simply tightens his grip on my hand. 

Victor: [with a very evident hesitation in his tone] It sounds like... getting to know me is something that brings you joy? 

MC: Yes, it does. I wish to know you even better— the past you, the present you, and the future you. 

I gaze deeply into his eyes. 

MC: But you’re so encumbered by everything. I can only utilize the little time you set aside for me each day to learn about you amidst the calls of the people. 

Victor: ...MC. 

Victor’s eyes tighten, and a heartfelt and regretful emotion swirls within them. 

MC: I don’t wish to rob you of your time because of my selfish desires. 

MC: So, after the National Convention concludes, and when you’re no longer so busy... 

I draw in a breath, low and slow. And like that, just like the first time I met him, I lay bare all my yearnings and affections before him. 

MC: Reserve some time for me, will you? Not in your role as the king, but as my husband. Share your stories with me. 

MC: Will you, Victor? 

All my thoughts translate into clumsy words, pouring out like the way winter grass eagerly awaits spring rain, confessing everything I have in me. 

Victor continues gazing at me like this, until that gaze of his becomes infused with almost sorrow and a reluctance to part. 

Before I can decipher those cryptic code words, he has already cast his eyes downward, veiling the emotions within. 

Is this a silent rejection? I exert myself to force a smile, intending to crack a joke to ease the situation, but then he speaks first. 

Victor: [if a person’s voice alone could shatter one’s heart, I swear this would be it] There’s no need to wait till later. Let’s do it now. 

In astonishment and jubilation, I look up, locking eyes with his sincere gaze. 

On the night before the pivotal moment in destiny, I finally witness Victor’s wordless confession. 

────────── 

The following day, the National Convention proceeds as scheduled. 

Attired in royal robes, Victor stands at the forefront. Below the platform, countless eyes, some treacherous and others devout, are all converged on him. 

Victor: In my capacity as the king, I stand here only to declare one thing. 

Victor: The mysterious disappearances in the capital over the years have all been caused by the Church. 

The earth-shattering statement stirs up a commotion among the people, and the followers of the Church appear visibly unsettled. 

Victor: The Church extracts energy for the “Blood King Crystal” through the massacre of civilians in blood sacrifice rituals. 

Victor: As for the particulars, I will leave it to the Knight Commander to elucidate. 

The attendants toss numerous sheets of paper into the crowd off the platform, each containing records of clear and unmistakable evidence. 

In a matter of moments, the crowd transitions from initial silence to restlessness, ultimately erupting into an agitated uproar. 

It turns out that the matter of the true culprit behind the disappearance cases has been an enduring emotional anchor for the people, completely overturning everyone’s cognition. 

Some hurling curses, some wailing, and some even charging to express their scorn at the Church... 

Amidst the chaos, only Victor’s voice, his calm and powerful words, continues forward with a steady resolve. 

Crowd: Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! 

As the chants and shouts cease and amid the furious uproar of the crowd, the Pope, who is ringed, calmly casts a glance in Victor’s direction. 

The Pope: Silence. Dear Compatriots. 

The elderly Pope walks slowly to the center of the platform, an inscrutable and chilling smile playing on the layers of wrinkles on his face. 

The Pope: His Majesty speaks the truth. The Church does indeed extract energy for the “Blood King Crystal,” and the blood sacrifice of civilians has truly occurred. 

The Pope: However, all these casualties and deaths stemmed from the demands of the royal family! 

The Pope: Throughout history, every king has relied on the “Blood King Crystal” to survive, and even our righteous and dignified king, His Majesty, is using it at this very moment! 

The Pope: The very purpose of the “Blood King Crystal’s” existence is to secure the longevity of the king. Without a king, who will lead the country? How can the kingdom have a future? 

The Pope raises the scepter high, directing it towards Victor. 

The Pope: Your Majesty, the Church has been faithful and devoted to the Crown for all these years. As you pronounce judgment on the Church’s sins today, do you not feel a sense of guilt? 

The wrath of the masses below the platform has no outlet after his manipulative and distorted speech, and their eyes shift to Victor. 

Silent inquiries and judgments flood the eyes of the crowd, prepared to tear everything to shreds at any second. 

The noble king, however, has maintained his impassive demeanor from the beginning. He lapses into a moment of silence, gazing into my eyes. 

Amid the scrutiny of the spectators below, I lock my eyes with him, and in that gaze, I see the very same expression of unwillingness to part that I wasn’t able to discern last night. 

But at this moment, I seem to understand its meaning. 

Holding back the bitterness in my eyes, I take a step forward and speak in a loud voice. 

MC: What the Pope said is true. The kings of the previous dynasties colluded with the Church for their personal gains, resulting in the slaughtering of civilians. 

MC: However, the Blood King Crystal has never been a precious treasure, but rather a curse. 

MC: As each king became more reliant on it, the health of the royal descendants suffered increasing repercussions, which led to an even deeper dependence on the Church. 

MC: His Majesty has been working tirelessly to put an end to these nefarious activities, solely for the sake of the future of this country. 

MC: As for the Blood King Crystal... 

I close my eyes, my eloquent speech coming to an abrupt halt. This elicits puzzled murmurs from the crowd off the platform.  

At this time, Victor walks to the forefront of the stage. 

He retrieves the vivid red gem from his bosom, and the blinding luster falls on his chest, projecting an image as if blood were coursing through. 

Victor: Behold, the Blood King Crystal. 

Before anyone can comprehend, Victor swiftly exerts a slight force with his fingertips, and the Blood King Crystal instantly disintegrates into fine fragments in his hand. 

Pope: You...!! 

Countless crimson red powder, reminiscent of blood, streams out from between his fingers, and his complexion has already turned a shade of pallor. 

The elixir of immortality, amassed from the sacrifice of countless human lives across generations of kings, the venomous sac upon which the Church depends for survival, has been completely eradicated before the eyes of everyone. 

Victor: Those deserving of being brought to reckoning, not a single person will be spared. 

Victor: That includes the Church, as well as the Royal family. 

He unfurls the hand that holds the Blood King Crystal. His palm now only holds a thin layer of gemstone powder, and he allows it to be carried away by the northern breeze. 

Victor: Henceforth, dust will return to the earth, and blood will be bestowed upon the people. 

Victor: I shall personally redeem the filth that has accumulated for far too long. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

In the wake of the National Convention, Victor instigates a series of reform policies to root out corruption, setting off a massive surge across the country. 

He works tirelessly day and night, paying no heed to my attempts to dissuade him. There is an urgency in him that I don’t want to understand, a rush that drives him to get everything in order. 

Throughout this time, I’ve been seeking out renowned physicians from everywhere, but all I’ve received are negative answers filled with a mix of dread and despair. 

Until one day, he slips back into a coma again, and even the duration of his coma seems to be stretching longer and longer as the days elapse. 

And all I can do, or more accurately, want to do, is simply to remain by his side. 

With his eyelashes hanging low, a gentle shadow falls upon that beautiful yet pallid face, and it seems even his breathing has become very light. 

As I gaze at Victor’s side profile in deep slumber, I can no longer find the same relaxed and carefree state of mind I had when I first stepped into the royal bedchamber. 

He is no longer someone who could have confined me, the husband I had never met before, but rather my beloved with whom I have been through thick and thin together. 

My only wish is for him to open his eyes and look at me, share some dry jokes, and then walk with me through the streets and alleys again and observe how people are living nowadays... 

Victor’s life began wither away the instant the Blood King Crystal was shattered. All he can do now is expend every ounce of the remaining warmth. 

He knew the consequences better than anyone else, yet he still orchestrated his own ending with his own two hands. 

I remain by the bedside, tightly holding onto his hand. I can’t tell whether I’m trying to comfort him or myself. 

MC: [sobbing] Victor... 

Tears well up and stream down my eyes. A hand reaches up to caress my cheek, gently wiping away those tears. 

Victor: Why are you crying? 

Victor has woken up at some point without my notice and is now frowning as he looks at me. 

Quickly, I wipe away the tears in a haphazard manner, the corners of my eyes stinging from the abrasion of my forceful fingertips. 

MC: I’m alright. Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? 

Victor doesn’t answer. Instead, his gaze passes over my shoulder and settles on the view outside the window. 

Victor: It’s snowing. 

It’s only now do I take notice that the imperial palace courtyard has already been blanketed in snow, transforming into an expanse of pristine white. 

Victor: Weren’t you most fond of building snowmen when you were a child? Why not give it a try now? 

MC: But your health... 

Victor: [in an even tender and heart-wrenchingly weaker tone] It’s just building a snowman. 

I press my lips together. The truth is, I have long grown to despise winter, and I don’t like building snowmen anymore. 

After the death of my parents, the attendants who had been my companions from childhood to adulthood were all substituted with the informants from the Church, and the duke’s mansion became eerily cold and desolate. 

The winter season I once loved became increasingly colder as time went on, and I no longer had the desire to go out. Warmer seasons began to become more likable to me. 

But none of these are worth mentioning to Victor. Because this winter— it is marked by the moment I met him. 

I nod. 

MC: Of course. 

MC: In that case, I must show you the snowmen-building skills I’ve honed since childhood! 

I force a smile and step outside with Victor after donning our outer garments. He tucks my hand into his cloak. 

Victor: A certain someone was shivering in the cold during the last outing, and she still forgot to bring her gloves this time. 

MC: I did it intentionally. Otherwise, how could I get Your Majesty to help warm my hands? 

With this said, I slip my chin into my cloak, and the smile at the corner of my mouth instantly fades away. 

Victor’s hand is much colder than mine. Taking a deep breath, I grip his hand even tighter, and together, we step into this pure white world. 

────────── 

The chilly breeze howls as Victor and I tread through the snow, neither of us uttering a word. [5] 

Reminiscent of a wanderer losing its way, the mist hangs over the frigid ground and eventually dissipates into the pale grayish expanse above. 

Victor suddenly loosens his hold on my hand. 

Victor: Didn’t you want to showcase your skills to me? Why aren’t you going yet? 

I cast a brief glance at the mounds of snow under the trees, nod in silence, and reluctantly let go of his hand despite my heart breaking. [6] 

MC: Well, Your Majesty, please wait for just a short while. 

I tighten Victor’s cloak for him, then dash to the snowdrifts and begin building a snowman. 

My hands move at a blazing pace. There is only a single thought circling in my mind right now, and that is to swiftly end this time-wasting game and return to his side as fast as possible. 

To add to my woes, the newly fallen snow proves challenging to shape, much like bleached wool. Despite my vigorous efforts to press the snow together time and again, the snowballs continue to fall apart, each and every time. 

A mix of vexation and restlessness churns in my heart. I have nearly exhausted all the strength left in my body to mold the snowballs, and both my hands are now aching from the cold. 

Victor: [with endless helplessness] Dummy, no one is competing with you for first place. There’s no need to be in such a rush. 

Subconsciously, I pause in my movements, turn my head, and find him gazing at me with a serene expression. 

The urgency and anxiety in my heart seem to find equilibrium, and my hands unconsciously settle into a steadier motion. 

Regrettably, the snowman I end up crafting doesn’t even qualify to be described as “adorable.” Even so, Victor earnestly lowers his head, observing it with the bearing of a connoisseur appreciating a gem. 

Victor: To create this shape without it falling apart is indeed a testament to skill. 

His teasing remark elicits a chuckle from me. I pick up a twig and walk over to him. 

MC: There’s still one last step, but it requires Your Majesty and me to complete it together. 

Placing the twig in his hand, I then hold onto his hand, and together, we draw eyes and a mouth on the snowman’s face. 

Victor chuckles softly, and conversely, he grasps my hand, guiding it to make strokes. 

Victor: You’re holding so tightly; its eyes are all crooked now. 

Looking at the snowman with its enlarged eyes due to our modifications, I’m just about to crack a few jokes when I notice a touch of weariness on Victor’s face. 

MC: We’ve almost completed the snowman. Would you like to rest for a while? 

Victor: I know a tavern. Come with me. 

We’ve arrived at the alley where we met that kitten before. It has undergone a complete transformation, and the newly opened tavern is bustling with patrons. 

It’s a snowy day, and the tavern is filled to capacity. I initially thought that there would be no seats available. However, the owner leads us straight into a room. 

MC: Huh? Did you reserve the room with the owner in advance? But you weren’t... 

Victor brushes away the snowflakes off my head, seeing through my puzzlement. 

Victor: I arranged it in advance, yes. 

Victor: Since I didn’t know when I would be awake, I told the owner beforehand that I would have this room reserved for as long as it snows. 

The fire in the hearth produces a crackling sound. Victor’s facial features are enveloped in the cloud of heat, his eyes gentle. 

Victor: I just thought that one day, I would take you out to see the snow. 

We sit on the terrace, sipping the warm wine. Amidst the aroma of wine wafting in the air, he speaks in a soft tone. 

Victor: I did stick my tongue to a cup in the past. It happened when I was five years old and had a taste of my father, the king’s red wine in secret. My mother, the queen, had gotten quite the shock. 

MC: Eh? What are you talking about... 

Victor: Dummy, aren’t you always clamoring about wanting to hear my stories? 

He says it as if it were the most natural thing, as if this were merely an ordinary winter day, as if we were an ordinary married couple offhandedly conversing about our everyday life while enjoying a drink and keeping ourselves warm by the fire. 

The north breeze makes my eyes sting, but I still force myself to smile as I look at him. 

MC: So, it turns out that His Majesty was a dummy, too, when he was five years old. How about when you were six? What was it like? 

Victor: When I was six... 

In the back-and-forth questions and answers, more than twenty years of Victor’s life have become etched in my mind. 

I dare not listen. I can’t help but feel as if once I’ve heard everything, he will leave me. And yet, I listen carefully to every single word. 

I listen to the way he speaks each word— the way his teeth collide, the way his two lips meet, the way the nuances of his trailing notes alter between closing and releasing. 

Victor: Next, it’s the day when I got married to a certain someone. 

MC: ...there’s no need to tell the next part of the story. After all, the stories related to me have only begun. 

Victor pauses, but doesn’t follow up my words with a playful remark.

MC: ...Victor? 

Victor: What’s wrong? 

I shake my head, and when I open my mouth again, the name that has been lingering on the edge of my lips and weighing on my heart spills out involuntarily. 

MC: Victor.  

Victor: Mm, I’m here. 

He tacitly acquiesces to my almost naïvely foolish behavior, responding to my call of his name over and over again. It feels as though, if only I can keep confirming like this, the hole in my heart would be filled. 

MC: ...Victor. 

This time, he doesn’t speak. The silence forces me to stop. 

MC: [sobbing] I just want to know... what can I do to make you stay... [7] 

Victor sighs softly and beckons to me. 

I lean over and nestle in his frigid arms. 

As if he can no longer support the weight of his long, ink-black eyelashes, he casts his gaze downward. His nearly translucent skin appears as if it’s about to blend with the sunlight. 

Victor reaches out and touches my cheek, his finger pads caressing the contours of my face with utmost gentleness, as if sketching my features. 

His fingertips carry with them the chill of death, making me shiver involuntarily. 

Slowly and stiffly, I weave my words together, but the sentences that come out of my mouth are still shakily out of tune. 

MC: [teary-eyed x1] Victor, do you find it a little chilly? Maybe your cloak is too thin? 

MC: [x2] The fire is obviously burning so strongly, and the mead is also very warm... [8] 

MC: [x3] Look, there’s a kitten on the eaves over there. Isn’t it the one we met that day? 

MC: [x4] It looks so lively today. Seems like its frame of mind is as cheerful as ours. 

When I utter the last sentence, I hear his gentle sigh. 

At the same time, the laughter of playful children chasing each other, the chatter of young people, and the sighs of emotions of the elderly can be heard amidst the wind and snow. 

Victor: Hear that, the sounds outside. 

The sunlight seeps through the terrace, haloing and enveloping the surroundings with a layer of warm and bright haze. 

Bathed in that glow, my body’s consciousness returns little by little. I tightly clutch his hand, no longer shaking. 

MC: [x5] I can hear it. It’s almost New Year, and the streets are bustling and serene. 

Victor: The snowfall this year is promising. So, the harvest will be abundant next year. 

MC: [x6] Yes, people will become more affluent and happier. 

Victor: You will be a part of it all, too, and that’s really good. 

I bury myself in his chest, silently listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, one beat after another. 

The heartbeat in my ears, following its rapid pace, begins to grow increasingly feeble. A realization dawns on me, and I force myself to lift my head and look at him. 

He is akin to a wan rose, wilting before my desperate eyes that seek to make him stay, withering within my outstretched arms as I reach out to hold on. 

From limbs to blood, to the light in his eyes— bit by bit, the luster fades. 

My king entrusts the future of this country to me, and then he steps out of time, heading toward eternal peace. 

I gently incline my body, kissing his peacefully closed eyes. 

MC: ...good night. 

This time, I don’t receive any response from him, but the snowstorm suddenly ceases. 

The curtain of the evening has already descended, and the vermillion sun sinks below the horizon. The final ray of the splendid afterglow thaws the ice and snow of the land. 

MC: Victor, I will take you to witness the tomorrow of this kingdom. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[5] The exact phrase here actually was “冷风呜呜作响,” which literally means “the chilly breeze is producing a mournful sound”-- the “呜呜” used here is the onomatopoetic word for “sobbing/ wailing.” wanted to include this note as an example to gush about the brilliant atmospheric descriptions LZY writers use, e.g., the picture painted here echoes that even the nature is mourning at this slow, rather unfair, transition, mirroring the heroine’s and LZY’s pain of parting. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

[6] The expression used here is “依依不舍,” one of my favorite phrases and hated ones to translate LOL. You’d usually see this phrase being translated as “reluctant/unwilling,” but it doesn’t even come close to expressing the depth of its meaning. The phrase means “reluctance to part with sb you love/ being broken-hearted at having to leave,” with an underlying tone of “wanting to be with that person regardless,” -- and I tried to retain the OG meaning without being too wordy haha~ 

[7] Not sure how much of the sentiment I could make it come across in the translation—the term (留住) MC uses here literally means “ask sb to stay/ keep sb for the night/ ask them to wait.” the beauty of it lies in the fact that it expresses such a multitude of emotions— desperately wanting to keep sb in your life despite knowing it’s not up to either of you so you want to know if they can wait for you even though you know it’s not possible~ ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ   

[8] Mead (蜂蜜酒), also known as honey wine, is a type of alcoholic beverage made by fermenting honey mixed with water and other fruits. You can google it to know about it in detail if you want LOL.

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 

[poeticsandaliens]

Honestly... I fucking love the romance in TMA. It made me let my guard down, even though I knew I shouldn't. The tenderness of it made the horror more visceral. And the ending so much more heart-wrenching because despite the fact that these two people have changed so much since we met them - enough to love each other - they're ruined by the same human flaws they've had since the outset. That Jon's betrayal isn't a descent into madness; it's just the guilt-ridden control freak that he's been since the very first episode. The flawed human that we've all come to love.

It's not perfect, but I think it enacts a similar technique to what Phoebe Waller-Bridge describes in her work (particularly Fleabag). That she uses the comedy to get her audience's guard down so that when the drama comes crashing in, we bear the full weight of it. The romance made me a more vulnerable audience, and I think the open ending felt both more hopeful and more tragic than if we'd never been given that tenderness to begin with.

I think... if I'd gotten balls-to-the-wall full-send avatar Jon, or a total descent into madness, I would have felt spared.

[recurring-polynya]

hey guess what happened last week

[daisywords]

\

[congregation-of-the-spiral]

thinking about writing a jmart fic inspired by my original story. would y'all read it or nah

[unopenablebox]

congratulate me it's the 6 year anniversary of the time i apologized to 🌸 for wronging them by having experienced a desire to kiss them