#but in the recycling part i just have to wait until its over .

[kristiliqua]

sneeg talking about vod watchers watching these twohickey vods without music or anything to focus on (like music) really made me realize how insane i am for watching this shit (like the two 11 hour vods of CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK DING CLICK CLICK CLICK DING) without playing any of my own music in the background or speeding it up to 2x or some shit .

[ceilidho]

fear of god

prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 2 masterlist

-

How am I hearing you?

That should be the first question out of your mouth, but instead what comes out is a meek trembling of words. “E-excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Asked if you could let me in, love. I’m a bit turned around.”

You pause for a moment to take stock of the situation. A programming that has served your species since the dawn of time quietly whispers something to you, its voice unintelligible but meaningful. The instinct to help kicks in with the man’s plea, but your own confusion stays its corresponding response. 

There’s a man outside the ship knocking on the window and you’ve never seen his face before. 

“Where did you—where did you even come from?” you ask. 

He waves a hand and it drifts slowly beside his helmet, encumbered by the lack of gravity. “Around. Lost contact with my crew and I’ve been trying to get some help ever since.”

His tone is too blasé for the situation. You’d expect fear or urgency, but he speaks as though reassuring you.

“Was there another ship nearby?” You don’t remember Graves mentioning any other ships in this sector of the solar system. With many funded by private corporations or individuals, the team might not be always privy to all ongoing missions, but the commander would have known if there was a ship within a lunar distance. 

“At some point,” he says, still smiling. Too friendly. 

It’s been months since you spoke to a man your age that you hadn’t seen drink their own piss via the ship’s recycled water filtration system. Not to shame anyone—you’re part of that statistic too—but you’ve realized in the past few weeks how far that knowledge has gone towards dampening any burgeoning attraction to anyone.  

But it occurs to you again—a thought burrowing into the recesses of your mind, like a phantom of itself, a loon call over a still lake—that you are hearing someone from outside the ship. Sound traveling through nothing; the very absence of sound. 

The thought is too big for your head, but it fits itself in anyway. It stretches uncomfortably because material reality usually wins in the end. What you can see and hear, you can trust. You know the world through what appears in front of you; that's always how it's been.

This time though, there's something you can't quite fit in your head.

“Wait, let me…let me get some help,” you tell him, taking a step away from the window. Your stomach clenches when he frowns, brows pulled together in concern.

“You sure, love? I can walk you through opening the doors if you need help. Same as my ship, I bet.” He chuckles nervously. “Been out here awhile now; not sure how much oxygen I’ve got left in the tank, if I’m honest.”

That almost gets you, but you remember protocol. For all your shortcomings, you’ve never not followed protocol. Opening the airlock and letting anyone in or out is a process strictly monitored by the commander, and you have no authority to grant anyone access without express permission. You know the access codes, of course, for security and safety reasons, but despite the sudden urgency in his voice, you haven’t been authorized to let him in. 

And then there’s the matter of—

Again, though his frame fills up most of the porthole, when you look out into the depths of space around him, you see nothing out there. You wonder if perhaps Graves purposefully omitted any mention of receiving a distress call from a ship with a lost crew member. 

It feels less than likely. 

“I’ll be back.” You take another step back, heart fluttering in your chest. “Just…wait. I’ll—”

The rest of your sentence never comes, tucked beneath your tongue. Your feet are already taking you away.

The metal floor clangs under your feet as you stumble away and down the hall towards the cargo hold. You can hear the man yell after you, his voice growing more and more distant the farther you run, until its echo lingers only in your head. 

Down the stairs and through the main corridor, you pass the medbay on your way to the cargo hold, the room at the far end of the spacecraft accessible only by descending below the orlop deck. You come galloping down the stairs so fast that you nearly trip over the last one. 

The doors to the hold slide open at your approach. Though the cargo hold on the ship isn’t as gargantuan as some you’ve seen before, it’s still big enough for your footsteps to echo across the room when you make your way inside. Crates holding the ship’s sampling gear and equipment are tied down to the floor by fiber-reinforced polymer straps and covered by heavy-duty nets. The smell of fuel and ozone is pungent, thick in the air. 

The temperature in the hold is a degree or two hotter than the rest of the ship, putting you instantly on edge. Irritable; uncomfortable. Heat clings to the grooves of your skin, sinking past the epidermis. You tug your collar out with a finger. 

“Hello?” you call out into the hold, voice reverberating off the walls.

No one responds. Perhaps Farah did come for her brother, as she mentioned earlier. It wouldn’t do for you to linger in the empty hold then, the man outside the ship still a pressing concern. 

The ceiling is banded by metal beams, ferrous pipes running up the walls to the rafters, gurgling and whistling as water passes through. You can see the shoddy workmanship in the exposed scaffolding, areas that should’ve long ago been covered up or hidden away behind walls. A pipe in a far corner overhead drips onto the concrete below. 

“Looking for someone?” a voice asks from directly behind you, and your heart jumps into your throat at the sudden sound. 

When you whirl around, Hadir stands in the middle of the cargo hold, shoulders slouched and hands stuffed in his pockets. He lifts an eyebrow at the look on your face. Though he shares some features in common with his sister, his build is entirely different; stockier, slightly softer. Round jaw to her sharp. The same widow’s peak though, and the same nose. 

“Yeah, hi—morning, by the way.” You gesture with your thumb towards the door. “I, just…this is going to sound wild, but I think I just…I think someone’s outside the ship.”

The easy look falls off his face in favor of a more serious expression. 

“Outside the ship?” he repeats in disbelief. 

“Yes, I know, but I swear. Can you just—” Frustration makes you curt. Partial embarrassment too because you know how it sounds. 

There shouldn’t be anyone outside the ship because you’re in the middle of nowhere with no other spaceships around for hundreds of thousands of miles. There shouldn’t be anything other than carbonaceous and silicate asteroids drifting outside the ship. Rubble as small as grains of sand.  

He frowns. “Did someone get locked out of the ship? Why didn’t you go get Graves?”

“It’s not—” Again, you can’t seem to find the words, the right one getting lost in translation. “It’s not someone from the crew.”

Something shifts across his face, a micro-expression that makes your throat tighten involuntarily, but he nods and follows you out of the hold. 

Nerves plague you on the walk back to the porthole. Since you lead the way, you can’t look back and gauge Hadir’s expression, but you can feel his eyes heavy on your back. Skepticism still thick in the air, so rich you can almost taste it. You can hardly blame him. Were it anyone else, you’d think them delusional too. 

The walk back feels twice as long somehow. At the top of the staircase, you breathe quietly out of your mouth in order to catch your breath without letting on how winded you are. Hadir’s footsteps echo yours, a beat off the entire walk back to the corridor you left just a few minutes ago. 

When the porthole finally comes into view, you freeze, causing him to nearly walk right into you. Any apology for the sudden halt doesn't get off the back of your tongue.

A dark, empty nothingness perforated by light in the far off reaches of space. Your throat goes dry at the sight. 

“There was someone outside,” you say. It comes out whispery thin. 

You almost don’t need him to walk up to the glass and look out, knowing already what he’ll see. It’s immediately evident, the porthole free of anyone or anything obscuring the hazy band of stars off in the distance.

There’s no way to see Hadir’s expression as anything other than concerned. He peers out of the porthole again, twisting his head to the right and left in order to see as far as the view extends. 

“I, uh…I don’t see anything out there,” he finally admits, a tad awkwardly. He has a hard time meeting your eyes. 

“Oh,” you reply, nonplussed.  

You step up to the window alongside him. Stars leak out of the blackness of space; eternal night. It’s a long way from anywhere out here. 

“He might’ve gone to another window.”

For a beat, Hadir doesn’t respond. You’re both thinking the same thing. It’s unlikely that if anyone were out stranded in the middle of space that they’d float aimlessly around their only means of salvation rather than just wait for help. 

“Maybe you just saw your own reflection,” Hadir suggests. "It happens. Freaks me out too sometimes."

The tone of voice he uses irks you; it’s vaguely placating, like he’s trying to reassure you as well as himself.

There’s nothing wrong with you though. You saw what you saw and heard what you heard. There was a man outside the porthole hovering in space and he spoke to you. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you say instead. 

You stare at the faint, runny outline of your own face in the window. No matter how hard you stare, you can’t imagine her suddenly opening her mouth and talking to you. 

When the two of you finally part ways, you head for the medbay on autopilot. The mug that was in your hand is long gone—probably accidentally put down when you went looking for Hadir in the cargo hold���and you regret not stopping by the galley for a refill. 

It bothers you that Hadir went the other way, towards the cockpit instead of back to the cargo hold. You wonder whether someone called him up before you found him. 

The medical unit on this ship is smaller than what you’re used to for interplanetary travel. They’ve supplied you with the equipment necessary for simple surgeries and nothing more; anything more complex is left to chance and divine intervention. The operating table in the center of the room comes equipped with a scanner capable of medical imaging and diagnosing. 

It’s an incredibly insular room on top of that, having been designed without windows. Not atypical for a medical bay. Though bigger than your personal quarters, you often find yourself on edge when spending any prolonged amount of time in your work station. 

For all of its flaws, the ship is equipped with a rudimentary form of artificial intelligence. It mainly assists with performing diagnostics, assisting with determining the best trajectory for the spacecraft, and enabling autonomous navigation, the latter function being temporarily suspended after the impact from the day before, but it has some use. You’re especially lucky that every computer on board gives you access to the AI, meaning that you can stay cooped up in the medical unit rather than venturing back to the cockpit where your inquiry might wind up drawing more attention to you than you’d like. 

You lean forward in your chair, a leg tucked into your chest as you flip a switch on the dashboard on the wall behind the computer and then a button on the keyword, the familiar blip letting you know to speak. 

“Ship, please scan the perimeter for any nearby foreign objects.”

Chewing your nails and staring at the computer, you watch it light up, words and symbols flashing across the screen, buttons flicking on and off on the dashboard behind it. The ship rumbles around you as it scans the surrounding vacuum of space for anything with mass. The foot still touching the ground taps, a restless twitch running through your leg. 

The blip of completion makes you jolt in your chair. 

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

You press the button again. “That’s—that’s not possible, Ship. I saw someone out the window.”

When you let go of the button again, the computer goes quiet, running through another round of calculations, performing the same diagnostic again. Another distended moment of anticipation. You hold your breath until the computer beeps, the perimeter inspection complete. 

Scan complete

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

The secondary confirmation makes your stomach sink. 

It’s difficult to articulate the feeling in your chest. Halfway between disbelief and unease. Perhaps a simple error in judgment, but you can’t simply look past the voice you heard from the astronaut outside the porthole. In your life, you’ve made plenty of mistakes and bad calls; you’ve run the gamut of mistakes, everything from going back to old flings to nearly misdiagnosing a patient. 

You have never seen things that weren’t there. 

Still, the reading on the screen doesn’t waver. You stare at it until your watering eyes force you to blink. 

You chew the nail of your middle finger until it tears. Sweat slicks the small of your back and the soft skin under your arms. 

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “Okay.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Love the temptation danny story so much! Can i have a follow up request where reader has to go home for vacation due to a family reunion while danny is off somewhere for testing and she tells danny that its ok that she goes alone since he is busy but he keeps insisting that they should go together but reader has already booked a flight and the next following days while the family reunion is going on danny just arrives and everyone gets so starstruck by him and he is so possessive of her while the reunion is going on, LOVE THE FICS BTW YOU ARE AN AWESOME WRITER

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {6}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff (two part request) WC: 3.4K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Wednesday “Honestly, it’s fine,” you reassured him for the seemingly hundredth time. 

Daniel’s suitcase was at the door beside yours except the planes you were leaving from in Nice were going in two very different directions.

“It’s not fine,” he muttered as he checked his Passport was in his back pocket before pulling you into his arms. “I was looking forward to seeing your family again. They’re going to be mine soon too.”

You smiled at the reminder and brushed your thumb over the engagement ring. “You’ll see them at Christmas.”

“Not everyone,” he pointed out. The Christmas get together was going to have both of your immediate family members, with his flying out from Australia. “I want to talk to your cousins.”

“What? Why?” You pulled back to see the mischievous look in his eyes and the smile that promised he was up to something.

“Cousins always tell the truth,” he chuckled. “And I want to know what you were really like as a kid.”

“I was a little angel.”

His hands roamed over your body to settle on your ass and he pulled you flush against him as he teased, “What happened?” 

You giggled as you rose on your tiptoes and grazed your nose along his throat before resting your lips on his jaw as you teased him right back, “I fell for a man with a wicked tongue.”

You could see the darkening in his eyes and his lips parted with a filthy suggestion on the tip of his tongue but the blaring of an alarm from his jeans drew a groan out instead. “I’m going to have blue balls for the flight now.”

“You should probably take care of that.”

“It’s a 30 minute drive to the airport, Kitten, you could take care of it along the way.”

It was a strange feeling returning to the town you had grown up in. The streets remained the same, trees lining the curb and kids playing in the front yards, but the faces were all unrecognisable. Like you, most of the people you knew had fled as soon as they finished high school, searching for something bigger than what this place could offer. 

Nearly every parking space on the street was taken by your extended family but your dad had saved one for you near the house with the recycling bin. It was a good thing too because Daniel had kind of spoiled you as he walked you to your boarding gate. He hadn’t been able to resist dragging you into the duty free shops in the terminal and now the extra baggage was missing the pair of hands that carried it for you. You had told him it was too much but he just kissed you until you forgot about arguing. It wasn’t fair, you could never win an argument when he cheated like that. 

You got the feeling everyone had been waiting for you because the moment your car door closed they all filed out of the house to come and help with your luggage.

“There’s the city-slicker, welcome home,” Vanessa greeted with a kiss on your cheek before pouting as she saw the empty front seat. “Damn, thought you were bringing the sugar daddy with you.”

“Don’t call him that, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you warned with a roll of your eyes but your cousin clearly wasn’t paying attention. “Daniel is with the Red Bull guys in Japan for some big event. He wishes he could come but they called in everyone: Scotty, Liam, Mad Mike, they all had to be there too. ”

Your dad took the suitcase from your hand and nodded understandingly. “That’s a shame, but at least my little girl has finally come home.”

Your bedroom hadn’t changed all that much since you left to go to university and you could see the pin pricks and faded lines in the wallpaper outlining where your posters used to be. 

“Ohh, this is gorgeous,” Nessa grinned as she helped herself to the garment bags, the tags still on the designer clothes Daniel had bought you. “So am I going to meet this not-your-sugar-daddy before the wedding?”

“You could come to Christmas if you want, and go ahead, try it on,” you sighed before flinching at the squeak she made before abandoning her clothes like you were still kids and stepping into the first dress. “Nice to see you haven’t outgrown stealing my clothes.”

“There’s a reason we are the same size, it's fate. Karma herself said, Nessa, you deserve to wear nice things too,” she joked as she turned around. “Do me up?”

“You are so full of shit,” you laughed as you zipped her up. “Am I going to get that back?”

“Do you have a sugar daddy?”

“No.”

“Well there's your answer.” 

Friday “Hey Kitten,” Daniel greeted with a bright smile when the video call connected. “How’s it going?”

You leaned the phone against your mirror so you could continue to apply your makeup and held up two shades of lipstick. “Just getting ready to go out with Nessa. How’s the event? I haven’t seen many pictures.”

“Left hand, and you won’t - they are keeping everything under wraps until they have finished filming. Think the Melbourne GP promo vid, but bigger…”

You opened the lipstick he chose, the one you knew he would since he always complimented the shade on you - and when it transferred to his skin too. He fell silent as he watched you lean closer into the mirror, leaving the swell of your breasts filling his screen.

“Kitten…I wish I was there,” he sighed when you pulled back and blew him a kiss to show the colour off. 

“I wish you were here too,” you admitted, taking the phone with you as you sat on the bed and hugged your pillow. “Two days down, four to go.”

“You’re still counting in days? I’m counting in hours, fuck it, minutes.” He sent you a screenshot and you saw the countdown timer on his homescreen, the hours and minutes slowly ticking away until you were reunited. “Where are you and Nessa going? Is Carter going too?”

You shook your head at the question. Vanessa’s brother was far too busy with his new girlfriend to want to go to the local bar. “He’s too cool to hang out with us at the Old Oak Inn.”

Daniel sat up a little straighter and didn’t appear too pleased at the news. “Is anyone going with you?”

“Ness.”

“You know what I mean,” he huffed, “who is going to look out for you two?”

“Everyone knows everyone here, baby, we’ll be fine.” You gave him a smile as your chest warmed with the same gooey feeling you got every time he worried about you. “I love you, my protective he-man.”

“I love you too, Kitten,” his face softened until he heard Max calling his name outside his hotel door. “Send me lots of pictures, baby, I wanna see my gorgeous girl having fun.”

Nessa burst into the room as you ended the call and ripped the pillow away from your arms. “Get up, bitch, the taxi is here.”

The bar had changed a lot since you last went, the atmosphere more akin to a club than a pub, and you narrowed your eyes at Nessa who just grinned back. “You said it was a chill night out.”

“I lied,” she said with a shrug. “We can go back if you’d rather get in a fight over monopoly?”

 You cringed at the thought so she dragged you through the busy room and straight to the bar. 

“Holy shit, we have royalty in the house,” an old school friend greeted as he tended to the bar. “Did Monaco get too busy?”

“Not quite, Mark, I’m just back for a family reunion.” He placed your old favourite drink down without having to ask and you quirked an eyebrow at it.

“I have a good memory, but it might taste better than it did in the old plastic cups we drank out of,” he laughed before pouring a bourbon for Nessa. “Milady.”

He wandered off to serve someone else and you turned to Nessa. “You and Mark?”

“A few times, you know, just a bit of fun,” she said as she winked at him when he glanced back. “Oh, head down, Andrew’s here.”

You ducked into her arms and kept your head down until she said you were safe and sighed with relief. “Jesus, everyone really does come here. Is there any other bar around?”

“If you want to catch an STD off the bar top, sure. Plus, your high school sweetheart will probably find his way to Ruby’s later anyway.”

“We dated for like four months, I wouldn’t call him my highschool sweetheart,” you scoffed. 

Nessa’s brow lifted. “Need I remind you he took your V Card? Your first always has a teeny tiny place in your heart.”

“Not mine, and Danny took my A Card so that trumps it.”

“A Card…?” she trailed off before her eyes widened in realisation. “Ew gross. Did it hurt?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Whatever, we both know how you get after a few drinks.” She grabbed your phone and held it up as she raised her glass and you clinked them together before tipping them back. “Perfect. And done.”

You barely caught your phone as she carelessly tossed it back and you saw she hadn’t sent it to Danny but uploaded it to Instagram. “Fucksake, Nessa, you left the location on.” 

You had learned quite quickly that most of the people that followed you only used it to see updates Daniel might not have posted himself, including using the locations of your posts thinking Daniel would be with you. It had led to a few scary situations before you learned to keep your location off or at least generalised - but she had tagged the Old Oak Inn.

Taking another photo with a pout, you posted it with the caption, ‘half of my soul is half a world away, miss you danielricciardo’ and hoped it would stop some people within driving distance from making the pointless journey hoping to see Danny.

You opened the photo again and zoomed in to see Andrew in the background, his eyes clearly looking at your ass when the camera snapped.

“What made you happy all of a sudden?” Nessa asked as she returned with fresh drinks.

“Danny’s on his way,” you giggled nervously as you clutched your phone to your chest.

“I thought he couldn’t come.”

“He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t, but I don’t think there’s anyone with the balls to stop him. He can be a little stubborn sometimes.” It was a severe understatement and if he wasn’t such a good driver you were certain he would have been fired for some of the escapades he found himself in because he got a little overprotective and possessive when he was away from you. “Christian Horner offered me a job just so I could be wherever Daniel was and keep him in line, but I think it was a joke.”

“You need to accept it, joke or not, your man is whipped for you.”

You took a sip of your drink before you spilled the truth about who really did the whipping and pondered the idea you had initially laughed off. You could still work a similar role with Red Bull, so maybe it shouldn’t have been brushed off so quickly. For tonight, you would focus on having fun with Nessa and catching up with old friends.

Saturday You groaned at the dawn light that brightened the room as the curtains were ripped aside and rolled over. “Nessa, piss off.”

“Something bothering you, kitten?”

You probably looked like a zombie coming to life as you threw your blankets back and rushed up to meet Daniel as he climbed onto the bed. The old frame creaked unused to the extra weight on it but you didn’t care if it collapsed, you weren’t letting go of Daniel once he was in your arms. 

“You’re actually here,” you murmured against his lips when you finally broke apart to breathe. You had kept looking over your shoulder all night expecting him to appear but when the bar closed and he still hadn’t arrived your hope had simmered down.

His smile was blinding as he brushed your messy hair back and buried his face in your neck with a deep inhale. He was a cat high on catnip the moment his nose brushed your racing pulse and he guided you back into the sheets as he caged you beneath him. “Told you I’d see you soon.”

“My parent’s room is next door,” you whispered as his hips settled between your legs and he teased you when he rolled them against you.

“Then I suggest you find something to bite,” he chuckled, his fingers slipping into your panties and feeling how your body had instantly reacted to his touch, “because I have missed you so much. I just need to feel you around me. right now.”

His lips parted and he sighed at the pretty sight as he dragged your panties down your legs. “There’s my pretty kitty,” he mused as he shuffled down the bed so he could settle between your legs, kissing your thighs softly as he reacquainted himself after three days apart. “Have you missed me?”

“Like crazy.”

“She thinks I’m talking to her,” he whispered and you felt the warmth of his breath on the sensitive spot he was confessing to. You giggled at the silly man and squirmed with the silent plea for him to stop talking and do more, the bed creaking with the movement. Daniel grabbed your hips and held them still so the bed fell silent before shaking his head with an amused smirk. “Impatient little minx.”

Rather than take the taste you knew he wanted, he flipped you onto your knees and pushed your head into the pillow to silence the sounds that spilled forth as he curled two fingers into your cunt. A few flicks of his wrist were the only preparation he gave your body before his shorts were halfway down his thighs and he replaced his fingers with his cock. 

Your pillow heated with the heavy moan that filled it and it grew damp as your teeth clamped down on the satin slip. It had only been three days but the burn of the stretch danced the fine line between pleasure and pain until he reached around your hip and found your clit. 

“Fuck you’re tight, kitten,” Daniel grunted, his lip almost bleeding as he bit it to keep quiet and pulled back a little so you could acclimate to his size again. “You okay, baby?”

You answered by pushing yourself back, needing him as much as he needed you, and you relished in the full feeling when your ass met his body. His heavy breathing broke the quiet morning and he covered your back, pressing his lips to your spine and following the line to your neck. 

“Lay down for me.”

Unwilling to part with you for a moment, he helped you onto your stomach and carefully shifted until his legs were outside of yours and your thighs pressed together. The pillow muffled your moans as the position increased the feeling of fullness and he rode you with long smooth strokes, keeping the bed from creaking.

“Three days was too much, kitten,” he confessed quietly as he kissed your shoulder. “I can’t go a day without you. Want you with me, always.”

Despite the exhaustion of the late night and early wake up, you weren’t able to get back to sleep, even with Daniel there to spoon you. A knock at your door had put an end to that plan and you were reminded that everyone was getting ready to go to the lake for a day out on the water.

Everyone except Vanessa were surprised to see Daniel joining you for breakfast and you got the best pick of the cooked meal while they all fawned over the celebrity.

“Alright, alright, leave him be,” you said as you moved them along and handed him a plate you had filled before sitting on his lap. Seats were in short supply with so many people coming and going that you were happy to share one. “I know he’s a bit weird but try to treat him normally.”

“Morning, Sugar,” Nessa teased quietly as she took the seat beside him.

“Ness…meet Daniel, officially,” you said, since she had seen him on a video call.

“We met this morning, didn’t we, Sugar? Who do you think let him in? We had a great chat about you.”

She was finding it too amusing and Daniel’s shoulder bounced with a laugh as he stuffed bacon into his mouth to avoid commenting. “I thought you were joking.”

“I told you, cousins always tell the truth,” he chuckled before kissing your cheek. “She didn’t tell me anything new though; I already knew you were smart and beautiful.”

“She was just saying that so she could keep the Givenchy dress she stole.”

“Pfft, not true, but I can totally play it up if you want to part with the Jimmy Choos too.” She turned her attention to Daniel who had been thoroughly enjoying the interaction while idly massaging your hip. “Did she tell you that she climbed up a tree to save a cat? The fire department gave her a medal for it. Or this one time she single-handedly stopped a bank robbery.”

“Oh my god,” you snorted at the absurdity.

“Don’t get me started on how she took down an international crime syndicate with a muscle car.”

“Who am I? Vin Diesel? Just shut up.”

“No, no, give me more,” Daniel encouraged. “I thought Lando was imaginative but this is next level.”

You could see the moment her train of thought was lost and a sly smile grew. “Think you could introduce me?”

“To Lando? No way, you would eat him alive.”

“Come on, I introduced you to Drew so you owe me.” You felt Danny’s hand stop the calming circles and wished she had kept her mouth shut as he asked who Drew was. “Andrew, her first boyfriend, well only boyfriend before you, I thought you would have known, my bad.”

Breakfast was fairly quiet after that and you knew Daniel had questions he was just waiting to ask when he got you alone. Fortunately, you could put them off for a few hours as you all set off to the lake, the distraction of you in a bikini enough to placate him in the meantime.

“So this Andrew…” he stated as he pulled you into his arms and waded out deeper into the warm water. “Why haven’t I heard about him?”

“Because it was years ago?”

“Did you love him?”

“I was 17, I didn’t know what love was,” you laughed as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” he scoffed, but it was clearly a lie.

“Baby, you’re the only man I have ever loved, and the only one I will ever love - with one exception.” His eyes narrowed and you giggled as you kissed his cheek. “If we have a kid someday and it’s a boy, then I would love him too.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled with the smile that split his face. “I suppose I could live with that.”

“Good, so forget about Andrew. You are everything I want and need.”

“So long as I don’t have to cross paths with the bastard that took your innocence.”

There were only two days left before you flew back to Monaco, what were the chances?

Click here for part seven.

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[clarepreed]

Micro-Story: Faulty

Story Content and Summary: 1,750 words. Micah's wife succumbs to a fault in a futuristic prosthetic heart. No EMS. On-site resuscitation.

--

Fuck!

The way she fell, first stiffening, then going boneless and collapsing in a heap before he could reach her. The way she fell, her face slack and her eyes rolling back. The way she fell pulled a silent curse from him, one he kept repeating as he skidded to his knees beside her, the accidental impact of his body rocking hers in the dirt.

“FUCK!” Micah finally shouted, losing control, his hands shaking as he reached for her, already knowing what was wrong as his fingers pressed into her neck.

Goddamn artificial heart. First mass-produced cardiac replacement piece of shit!

The artery beneath his fingers lay still, and her light eyes stared half-lidded up at him, even as her mouth slanted open and her lungs stuttered air.

Recalled.

He unzipped her coat and spread it wide, then dug in his pocket for his knife, flipping it open. Her hands curled, body shaking as her brain freaked the fuck out at the sudden lack of oxygenated blood. Micah sliced his blade through the collar of her t-shirt, then tossed his knife to the side and gripped her shirt with both hands. The shirt tore down to her navel and he spread the fabric wide open, reaching next for the small, rectangular lump just below her collarbone and above the cups of her lavender bra.

Recalled, and a fucking waiting list…

He pressed the center of the implant, just like he’d pantomimed with her before, when he’d printed the reset instructions from the manufacturer’s website. This time, he felt a button click, depressing firmly and then popping back up beneath his fingers.

“Come on, Gretchen,” he breathed, quiet now as he reached for the butterfly clasp of her bra. He popped it open as she gave another rattling agonal breath, quickly spreading the cups and sliding his fingers down to the tiny display implanted laterally. The miniature monitor glowed red, awakening with the activation of her reset button. He pressed the center of the glowing light three times, initiating the reset sequence.

Stay calm! the instructions had advised. The heart WILL restart!

“I’ve got you,” Micah gasped, his hands skimming over her chest and settling low on her sternum, along the line of her first surgery scar.

Okay. I have to be her heart and lungs until the device restarts. 

He linked his fingers, rolled his shoulders over his hands, and started pumping.

“One, two, three…”

His mind flashed back to the little practice mannequin he’d bought and subsequently worn out in the basement where she couldn’t see him desperately trying to learn. Terrified that one day, before she could get in to surgery, her replacement heart would glitch out and take Gretchen away from him forever. 

What good is a heart that resumes beating ten, twenty, forty-five minutes later if her brain is dead?

“…thirty!” Micah leaned down and quickly tipped her head back before pinching her nose closed and drawing a deep breath. Strands of her silken hair clung to her face and his fingers as he gripped her jaw with his other hand. He held her mouth open and covered her lips with his, exhaling, watching her chest rise out of the corner of his eye. Micah broke the seal and felt his recycled air waft over his face before giving her a second.

He returned to her chest, his voice shaking as he started counting. Gretchen’s ribcage sank and her breasts wobbled as he worked, the force rocking her head from side to side. Each time he pressed down, her navel popped up in a harsh seesaw motion. Her shoulders shrugged rhythmically, body bending to the force of his love.

“Huh, huh, huh…” Breathless sounds slipped from her parted lips as he reached thirty again.

Her soft mouth beneath his felt lifeless, already cool to the touch of his overheated skin. Another breath, her cheeks rounding out, neck swelling slightly as the breath made its way down her airway. Micah turned, quickly getting back into position for compressions, his hands skimming her smooth skin as he found his landmark.

“One, two, three…” Her breast felt soft under his fingers as the heel of his stacked hands thrust into her. Her nipples, erect in the cool autumn air, pointed briefly inward with each hard compression. Oblong tracks appeared in the dirt beneath her slim-fingered as her body danced to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“…twelve, thirteen…”

Her brainstem stopped trying to make her breathe as her eyes locked on nothing, already glassy with death. Shadows gathered beneath her eyes.

“…eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…”

A glance down toward her feet showed him that her entire body twitched with each thrust, legs rocking, toes drawing little circles in the air.

“Please, Gretchen!” he begged, before giving her another deep breath. Her breasts swelled once, twice. His eyes darted to the illuminated display in her side as he resumed chest compressions. One line, regular and jagged, represented his chest compressions. The second line, however, lay flat. Asystole.

“…nine, ten, eleven, twelve…”

Micah rocked into her chest, forcing himself to work as perfectly as he was capable, judging his compression depth with a critical eye and keeping the rhythm going as he counted. Each harsh thrust forced her sternum to squeeze blood from the useless artificial organ. As he pressed, her belly rounded against the waistband of her leggings, the hollow of her navel riding the crest of each wave. Sunlight stretching through the canopy dappled her body, leaves rustling as he shifted on his knees. A snoring sound abruptly emitted from Gretchen’s throat.

“…Christ! Thirty!” He sucked in a breath and covered her mouth with his, closing her nostrils just in time. Again, the air puffed out her cheeks and throat visibly. A thin string of saliva pulled between them as he broke the seal long enough to let her body exhale. Micah pressed his lips to hers again and gave her another breath. Then his hands slammed back into the center of her chest, fingers quickly linking. “One, two, three, four…”

“Hurk, huh, huh, hurk…”

“…nine, ten…” Her chest popped, the sensation crackling under his palm. He kept at it, watching her sternum and ribcage sink and bob beneath the strength of his pumping arms as he hoped, begged, that his effort was good enough.

“…sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…” Watching the wave of force ripple down her abdomen, eyes burning, he choked back the tears that threatened to fall.

Let this be enough. Let me be enough…

As he bent for mouth-to-mouth, he thought of her that morning, legs spread wide beneath him, mouth ripe for the taking, skin so soft as he stroked her. Now, she lay lifeless beneath him, her mouth slack and her eyes staring as he forced air into her silent lungs. The flat line on her prosthetic monitor haunted him as he shifted back over her bruised, motionless chest. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, even as the sensation of her body softening under his hands sent a wave of nausea rolling through him.

“…nine, please just start beating, fuck, come on! PLEASE! Fifteen, sixteen…” Micah worked desperately, letting his weight fall into his hands. She made abortive grunts as he thrust down into her chest, air escaping her lungs in harsh wheezes. “…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty—”

BEEEEEEEP! An artificial sound cut through his panic.

“Gretchen?!” Micah leaned closer, hands shifting to frame the heart prosthesis screen. The chest compression line disappeared, but beneath it, where the flatline had been…

A rhythm!

“Gretchen!” Micah lunged, planting his hands to either side of her head. Her face tipped slightly to the side, skin ashen, eyelids slightly lifted. He moved one hand to her face, patting her cheek gently at first, then harder. “Honey? Gretchen!” Micah’s eyes trailed over her mottled chest, looking for signs of life. Despite her beating heart, Gretchen remained completely still. 

He moved a hand over her mouth, suspicion leading him to feel for breath that apparently wasn’t coming. Fear made him shiver as he bent to open her airway and tip his ear close to her pale lips. He hovered there, silently counting out the seconds as the dead air spread between them. 

With a groan of anguish, Micah crashed his mouth into hers, the angle of his face blocking her nostrils as he filled her lungs, pressure forcing a buzz of air out of the corners of their mouths. He pulled back enough to feel the air drift across his face, remembering then to pinch her nose. His eyes grazed the display embedded into her side, reassuring himself that the artificial heart still beat. Then he gave her another breath, the fingers of his other hand gently stroking the soft skin of her throat as it expanded beneath his fingertips.

“Please, Gretchen…” His plea came out quiet and broken. “I was right here. I helped you. Please!”

Another breath. His mind filled with awful thoughts. Gretchen dead, Marcus forced to sign paperwork to remove the heart surgically prior to her burial. Gretchen in long-term care, unable to recognize him or care for herself. His Gretchen, dead as her body lived. His eyes grew wet as he exhaled a fourth breath. 

As he broke the seal, Gretchen flinched beneath him and sucked in a shallow, ragged breath. Micah gasped and cupped her face with both hands, watching as her eyelids fluttered. “That’s it, Gretchen! Just breathe! You’re okay. I love you, you’re okay!” He shook with relief, his eyes blurring with tears as she coughed and gasped and moved her hands weakly. She curled them onto her chest, covering the redness there and letting out a soft groan.

Micah brushed her hair back from her face and then covered her hands with his. “I’m sorry. I know you’re in pain. Just open your eyes for me so I know you’re alright.”

Gretchen complied, her eyelids peeling open. She blinked several times before her eyes focused, latching on to his own. “Micah,” she whispered, barely audible. 

Micah shuddered and curled over her, pressing his forehead to hers and choking out: “Thank you… Thank you! Oh, I love you…”

“Love you…” she wheezed. “S’okay…”

His fingers threading in her hair, Micah wept.

[faghubby]

Bachlor/Bachelorette party

I walked out of the bathroom in just a towel to see Kelly laying on her stomach. Her ass on display her thong disappearing between her juicy cheeks. I knelt down and parted her legs. Pulling the thin piece of material to the side burying my tounge into her ass. Kelly moaned but was still scrolling thru her phone. After a few minutes she lifted her ass giving me access to her pussy as well. I slid my fingers into her wet slit. And continued to eat her ass. She stopped me and rolled over. I removed her panties completely. And licked and sucked her clit.

"You are so good to me" she moaned then grabbed my head as she succumbed to an orgasm. After she just tossed my hair and headed to a shower herself. I got dressed my erection settling on its own. Kelly fully dressed found me in the garage breaking down all the cardboard boxes for recycling.

"Paul, I have an important question to ask you" Kelly said. I stopped for a moment as she bent down on her knee.

"Will you marry me" she asked. I was stunned. I was suppose to ask her. And here now. Not very romantic. She held a small box. I took it and opened it. There was a diamond ring. It wasn't something I normally would wear.

"Kelly, shouldn't I ask you?" I said helping her up.

"No, I don't want that type of marriage" she said cupping her hand to my face.

"Yes" I replied and she placed the ring on my finger. She then took my hand and led me inside.

"We should talk about some things before you commit to me" Kelly said sitting me down.

"I don't want an equal marriage" she said. Holding my hand. I was confused. "I will be head of household" she stated.

"I don't understand" I said.

"I want a 1930 marriage but with me taking the husband role" Kelly explained. "You will stay at home, your job will be to take care of the house and me. Cook, clean, do the laundry and of course look pretty for me.

"Kelly, what would people think?" I said stunned

"That you are my little plaything" Kelly smiled. I frowned.

"Paul, I love you. But you have alot of short comings" Kelly told me. I knew she made alit more money then I did. But that couldn't be it. I looked at her quetionly. She grabbed both my hands ,looked into my eyes.

"You have no ambition, you are indecisive always waiting for me to tell what to do, you have little will power, and sorry but you are lacking in" she said looking down to indicate my crotch. I almost burst into tears.

"I love you and want always in my life" Kelly stated. "But this is how it would have to be"

"I understand" I said getting up. I went outside to think. I sat in the backyard and stared at the ring on my finger. I had always thought Kelly out of my league. But as I looked back. She had asked me out first. She was right I always just went along with what she wanted. Would much change, I wouldn't have to go to work. I already liked to cook. It had been over an hour when I returned and found Kelly.

"Yes I would honored to be your husband" I stated. She kissed me then pushed me to my knees she spread her legs. She wore no panties under her dress. Pulling me to pussy. I sucked and liked until she came again. I moved thinking we would have sex.

"Stop" Kelly said flatly. "I told you that you are lacking you have never satisfied me that way, have you?" I lowered my eyes. I knew she was telling the truth. "We will come up with a system in which you can.... release the presure" she told me. Seeing my face she softened.

"Since it is a special occasion" she opened my shorts and rubbed me thru my underwear.

"Please" I whined

"Want me to stroke it?" She teased. I shook my head excitedly.

"But my hand will get all sticky, I will make you cum if you clean my hand with your tounge" Kelly stated. I was stunned but she took out my dick and stroked me quickly. I came even quicker. She raised her hand to my lips.

"Good husbands always clean up their mess" she cooed, I hesitated but then stuck out my tounge. Kelly shoved her whole hand to my mouth. Bathing my tounge in my own cum.

"I would love it if everytime you cum you lick it all up" Kelly told me. Kelly had never even sucked my dick in the 3 years we had been dating.

Kelly had me quit my job the very next day. Told all our friends and family about the engagement. And for the next few months Kelly slowly explained what she expected of me. She would inspect my cleaning correcting what she didn't like. Picked out the menu I was to make. Even told me what clothes to wear. Gave me a exercise routine I was to look good at all times but especially in public. Kelly quickly controlled everything. My video games where gone. Our sex life became intense. With me orally pleasing her almost everyday. And her denying me or forcing me to eat my own cum.

One night when we had a few friends over. Someone asked. How I had proposed. Kelly quickly corrected them saying she had asked me. And then stated I would take her last name. Everyone laughed. But I knew Kelly was serious. We had not talked about it but I didn't want to embarras her in front of our friends. But then Kelly made me show everyone my engagement ring. The guys all looked at me strange. Bit the girls cooed around me.

After everyone had left I was doing the dishes when Kelly came up behind me.

"I want to fuck you" she told me in a husky voice. I got excited immediately. "Like a husband fucks his wife" she continued grabbing my ass. "I have a toy, you will let me won't you?" I was terrified she intended on fucking me didn't she. She unbuckled my pants and pulled down my boxers. Her finger covered in something cool rubbed against my asshole.

"Kelly" I wimpered. She just pushed two fingers in.

"Umm" is all the noise I made as she started to work them in and out. She reached around my dick still hard.

"I knew you like this" she giggled. She bent me over the sink more and finger fucked me for several minutes. Before she let me stand up and fix my pants.

A few days later she came to bed wearing a dildo. That the other end was inside her pussy. She was forceful as she positioned me on my back and lubed my ass. Then shoved her cock into my ass. She fucked me with a passion and speed I had never witnessed. Not stopping until she had cum twice. My ass was sore when she pulled the toy out. I laid in bed and cried.

"All girls cry aliille when they lose their virginity" Kelly told me holding me tight.

In the morning my ass still sore Kelly was already up getting ready for work.

"Since you are a woman now" She told me. As she handed me a pair of panties. "These are much more fitting your status" I spent the whole day crying wondering what had become of me. But as soon as Kelly came home she rushed to fuck me again. After this she became even more controlling. Budgeting how much money I could spend. Even limiting how much time I spent on the phone.

A few weeks later it was my bachelor party. Kelly insisted I wear a cock cage she had bought just for the occasion. It felt odd but I was allowed to go out with some friends and celebrate. My friends took me to a private club. As we walked in there was Kelly on stage naked getting split roasted by my step brother and one of my old co workers. I wanted to cry but held it together as I was led to a front row seat. Only to see my best friend strip down and work his big cock into Kelly's ass. In the course of the next two hours I watched Kelly get fucked by two dozen of our friends. Then my best friend Alex led me on stage.

"Clean her up" he told me pushing my face into her used swollen cunt. He held me there until I gave in and started to lick up all of there sperm. Most had left by then. Kelly didn't let me stop until I had cleaned her ass as well. Kelly then took me home where she fucked me until I came in the cage.

Now on our 10 year wedding anniversary I am still locked in chastity and have been fir the past 5 years. I also wear a custom cage that only is 3/4 of an inch long. Kelly works as I raise our 3 children. Brad, James and Christine all named after their fathers.

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat (EP 1 – 4) : Music as backdrop theme to bring people together.

I'm going to be honest, I wanted to wait until all Mars members were back together to start this post. However, I feel like waiting would make me lose the opportunity to write another post about the dynamic of their found family. So in a way, it's better to start now writing about this topic before the band is united again.

The series is about Po, a budding director who finds a job at a big entertainment company to make a documentary about a famous boys band before its disband and their main leader goes to South Korea to start a solo career. Po found in Thame, the leader, a kindred soul who understand him better than he thought. He quickly realizes that behind the facade, Thame is hurting a lot. This is something they have in common: they've been hurt, despite this, they remain gentle people. Po is set on helping Thame reforming the band and along the way they will fall in love.

Obviously when you're making a story about a boys band, you'll have to tackle on different topics regarding the state of the entertainment industry, the bias against idols, the constant pressure of showing a perfect image when you're public figure, the loneliness of stardom, how attention/engagement is sometimes more important than talent and the misguidance you can experience when being surrounded by people who doesn't always want the best for you. The series is showing all of these at one point or another, as most of the band's misunderstanding comes from one of these issues. The villain of the story is easy to spot: it's the manipulative CEO and the incompetent manager. Their harm may be different, but they both hurt the band in one way or another. However, I don't really want to concentrate this post about this issues. I believe they may come back again later in the series and it'll be interesting to talk about later. Right now, I want to focus on music. We're talking about boys band and of course it's linked to music. Nowadays, boy bands have been expected to write or at least contribute in songs they are performing and there are higher expectations on them. So as you can see and without getting too deep into it, music plays a part in this series because most characters' job are linked to it.

Music in general is important for movies/series. It helps create an emotional connection and set the tone. That's why when you hear a music from the original soundtrack of a very famous movies/series you can associate them with a scenes that made you feel a deep emotion. Here, the main problem may be that BL series in general don't have enough budget to have an original soundtrack. You can find a great post by @troubled-mind (and other contributors) about how most of the production companies recycled the same music over and over. Thailand definitely has great compositors, but we know that the budget for Bls isn't exactly high so you have to get used to them using the same music. It's a shame to not have an original soundtrack when the series is centered around “music”, but even if the soundtrack are not that original, the songs are specifically made for this story and sang by the actors/singers featured in the series. It's them that serves the music identity of the story. So the series is using the members of the T-Pop group LYKN and they gave them another persona and another boy band's image to interpret the members of Mars, the fictional trendy band of ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat. I don't know how many songs they created for this series yet because we are still at the beginning, but they already presented some of them in the first four episodes. As for me, I hope that's not all of them because I believe the series is missing a love song ballad from William (Thame) to be played during his love moments with East's character Po. It would also be a great idea to sell an album as a merch for this series, just saying.

So as you can see, except for episode 3, we can have a variety of songs played in. I really like the fact they are changing the ending song since episode 3. I hope they will keep doing it! It was also very welcomed to hear a cover by William. I'm now expecting to hear more covers or new songs because it would sad if they didn't fully use their actors who are also real singers. Episode 4 was especially interesting as they use different genre of music. It was a way of giving a glimpse of the characters profiles and their connections. Rap freestyle was used because its linked to Dylan designated position within the group, but also frustration over his situation. The soothing and sweet ballad of Tui was used to show greater times from the past where the members were closer and how this feeling is missed by them. Finally, the cover song was used in two ways: firstly, it shows the dedication and work Thame is putting as a singer, and secondly the meaning of the song has romantic undertone (“You make the journey along the way more beautiful”) as Thame and Po's relationship is growing fonder. Music is the language of emotions and all our characters have a wide range of them. It also serves as a way of improving relationship and group cohesion. All Mars members have suffered from misunderstandings and music could be the way of tightening again their bond, the same way as it's helping Po and Thame becoming closer too. Songs stick in the mind better than basic narrative so for a series that focus on a boy band, I hope they will stay true to this idea until the end of the story.

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 63

Who cares about everything happening? There's cleaning that needs doing!

The end of the dungeon is surprisingly mundane.

Marcille's hair style this time pulls all her hair to a ponytail but has two braids coming out as well. Ever since she made her familiars, Marcille hasn't integrated braids as much.

That's adorable. Kensuke is trying to pull Laios toward the house.

Please keep your Izutsumi's indoors to protect the local wildlife.

Are these magic mirrors? Is Thistle aware that the Winged Lion feeds on desires and Thistle smashed all these mirrors to keep from being aware of his own desires? Or are these regular mirrors and Thistle can't stand to look at what he's become?

The broken spot in that central mirror makes this shot more creepy since it causes Laios's reflection to not have a head. It's like a threat to any intruders.

But my first thought was that Thistle is short and probably could still see his reflection in that mirror.

At first, I thought Kui recycled the same drawing in these two panels, but now that I see them side-by-side, it's clear these are actually two different drawings. The "WAH!!!" might be the same though.

I spotted the grape woman painting and the painting of Delgal's wedding on the right wall.

This one painting got my attention.

The left person is definitely the puppet at the table and the right person looks like they're wearing Yaad's clothes. So I think this is Yaad and his parents. So the people at the table are the kingdom royals. Delgal's body is here, but Yaad's father is missing. Does that mean the person from chapter 1 wasn't actually Delgal?

The actual Living Painting chapter never got to show us how inherently creepy they can be. We saw the one painting and then the rest of the chapter was Laios trying to steal food from them.

This scene really shows what it feels like to be in a room with these things. The only thing missing is muted laughing or incomprehensible mumbling coming from the pictures.

Senshi was really absent during the first part of this chapter. This is page 9 of the chapter. There have been 59 panels up to this point. Senshi appeared in 4 of them, and we never see his reaction to anything in the house. It makes him seem indifferent to all this.

It would be funny to see the phoenix trying to enter the house. It's attempts to enter through the fireplace were so disastrous that it actually died and had to resurrect itself once it got in.

I bet while the party was investigating the house, the phoenix was crashing into every window it found until it decided to divebomb into the chimney, broke its neck on impact, and its corpse rolled down the chute and made all that noise.

This isn't the phoenix being majestic. This is the phoenix trying to pretend that embarrassing entrance didn't happen.

I can't tell if Laios is proud or surprised that his plan worked.

Just like Senshi was missing for the first 9 pages, Izutsumi was missing for the next 10 pages. She doesn't appear at all during the phoenix fight. Kui does a good job making sure everyone is involved in the story, but this chapter is a little awkward because everyone is gathered together in a small space so not seeing them is more noticeable.

Side note: At this point, I had to save this post to drafts and go to school. While waiting for my class to start, I was telling a classmate about Dungeon Meshi and it led to me thinking about some of the earlier chapters. Remember how Senshi wanted to investigate what oil was used in the hot oil trap in chapter 5? What if the oil was olive oil because Senshi desired something he could cook with and the dungeon delivered?

I love Laios's face here. He would be over the moon if you gifted him a feather bed made with basilisk and cockatrice feathers.

Lazy cat. And she waited for Laios to change out the sheets before sleeping on the bed too.

The magic over the Kingdom has kept it in a general state of preservation. The castle and the castle town look like people haven't lived there in a while, but they look more like they were in use until recently, like maybe everyone abandoned the town a year ago.

The interior of this one building actually looks like it's been abandoned for a long time. The exterior looks new, but the interior looks like a house that has been abandoned and been decaying for at least thirty years. And of course, that one plate shattered just by touching it.

This house is a microcosm of the castle and castle town. Thistle wanted to preserve the kingdom and on the outside, it still looks great. But when you go into it, it's clear that the kingdom is abandoned, disorganized, and slowly decaying.

I wish I got a good look at Izutsumi's plate. The trimmings for that confit had mushrooms so I want to see if she has any mushrooms in hers.

What's really wrong here is that Laios and Senshi draped Delgal's arms over their shoulders. They are completely unbothered by this arrangement.

Oh no.

back

[ilikekidsshows]

My friend called me impatient for not wanting to wait until miraculous reach the point for Marinette get over her flaws, and I've seen some part of the fandom echoing this sentiment. "People are just impatient". but what they didn't understand is that I'm not impatient, I get a massive burn out for seeing Marinette doing the same thing over and over without feeling slightly guilty or remorse and she also never change, her character is so stagnant that is so boring and annoying. She doesn't even feel what she does is wrong, that's the problem!

Im a fans on DNAngel, manga that need almost 20 years to finally reach its conclusion because the mangaka keep having hiatuses. I'm also long term fans of Detective Conan, manga that still nowhere near the climax and I'm still waiting for it. When I'm a fan of a media, I'd waiting for it no matter how many years it need to reach the end as long as there's thing that worth waiting. Sure Detective Conan case seems to be recycle of the old case, it's always the same case but at least there's progress, the protagonist learn something, actively seeking the way to get out from his problem. Marinette do nothing about it, every single time it's always her whining and crying for whatever but do nothing to change. Protagonist who do nothing but expecting everything to be handed to her in silver plate doesn't worth watching for me.

If I must wait for 100++ episode for an arc to conclude, then at least give me something to root for, something to hype for, even a nice character development would be fine. Not whatever miraculous give me over the years.

Honestly I'm not even going to be surprises if miraculous end with Marinette waking up from her sleep, that all those seasons are just her dream, because it does feels like one.

---

The problem with Miraculous’ pacing is that, even if I believed that the writers were still going to have Marinette learn from her mistakes, which I don’t, stretching out a paper-thin arc through a series with several seasons is going to give this show very little substance. For all the writers bragged about how good they are at spicing up their formula in the London Special, they really aren’t. Marinette is still doing the same things in the last episode of season five that she did at the start of season one. Even after she started dating Adrien, she still kept going behind his back, whining about things that inconvenienced her and acting in a way that was charming nine years ago but has since then grown grating.

For all Astruc claims he’s only used 95% percent of his ideas and he could keep Miraculous going for 12 seasons, I just don’t see the show as being interesting for that long. We keep seeing the same Akumas with less and less interesting motivations, the side characters have been turned into an Adrinette-shipping hive mind and Marinette is still deceitful and self-centered despite being the fully graduated greatest Ladybug ever. Like, maybe things will change now that we’re getting a yet another retool and Marinette and Adrien are actually a couple; Marinette could finally talk to him like a normal person at the end of season five and no one is standing in their way so we could focus on something else with the romance stuff being more of a support plot. Or, season 6 will bring in Adrien’s grandparents to be Adrien’s new controlling guardians and Marinette will go back to sneaking around and scheming to get to spend time with Adrien. The season 6 preview already has her spying on him with binoculars. The more things change the more they stay the same, it seems.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: when you know you’re working with a multiple season timeline for your show, it’s good to include smaller arcs and themes to tackle during a season to give people something to chew on while they wait for bigger developments. Otherwise your audience should only watch the premieres and finales to get anything meaningful. Miraculous’ format is how you get people making lists of actually plot relevant episodes so that they can skip what they perceive to be “filler”. Like, I’m also familiar with Detective Conan and that series, as I recall, is a master of feeding the audience. The cast has gotten so big specifically because the mangaka brought in new characters that he then committed to exploring and developing. Miraculous has five seasons and very few of the characters have been developed. We have Marinette doing the same stuff but more, worse and for less moral reasons. Arguably Cat Noir “learned” to stop flirting with Ladybug but he also stopped being her partner and is just a boring yes-man. His character is just as streamlined as the rest of the cast “You have no interests of your own, support Marinette, nothing else matters”.

Miraculous is like a badly written adult animated comedy. The status quo is maintained by the protagonist causing their own problems by acting like a moron, and being so allergic to self reflection that they won’t change their ways even when told point-blank that they’re the reason for their own misery. Marinette won’t change, because the paper thin plot and setup would collapse the instant she decided to act like an actually responsible hero. She never searched for Hawk Moth for this reason, she never tried to change any of the things causing her grief for this reason. She has more in-universe reason to tell Cat Noir about Hawk Moth than she has to not tell him, but she won’t, because the status quo demands Adrien not know, so she won’t tell Cat Noir either, despite not knowing they’re the same person.

I watched Naruto and Naruto Shippuuden, including some of the anime-only padding. I only skipped the arcs determined to be the most mind-numbing anime-only inclusions that contradicted the rest of the show, like Naruto’s shadow clones going on strike. I watched over 450 episodes, and I could do that, I could stick through that many episodes, because the series was divided into smaller arcs that made me feel like the characters were progressing and accomplishing things even when they didn’t win every arc. The original Naruto series is about as long as Miraculous is so far, and by the point we moved on to Shippuden we’d gotten:

Prologue: Introduction to the cast and their main goals, Naruto finding the first person to truly believe in him

Land of Waves: Naruto and Sasuke form their bond and Naruto finds his "way of the ninja"

Chunin Exams: We get introduced to a bunch of new supportive characters, Sasuke’s damnation arc beginning, and we get introduced to the second Jinchuuriki

Konoha Crush: the heroes fight off an invasion from a neighbour village, we get a proper introduction to the big bad Orochimaru and the death of the Hokage

Search for Tsunade: We get introduced to the Sannin ninjas and their pasts and motivations, we get a new Hokage

Sasuke Recovery Mission: Fleshing out some of the supportive characters, establishing Gaara’s proper redemption after Naruto defeated him in Konoha Crush, completing Sasuke’s damnation arc

I considered making a list like this for Miraculous, but then I realized that most of the developments in Miraculous are either taken back less than a season later, have such a miniscule effect on the grand scheme of things that they feel like nothing, or mostly things done in seasons 4 and 5. Like, the hero team gets put together and torn apart before it can accomplish anything and Chloé's arc just went back and forth until she was temporarily removed (Astruc's already revealed she'll be back again, undoubtedly in the exact same role as before). Alya learning Marinette's identity, Adrinette dating and Gabriel dying are the developments that haven't been walked back, and that's not a very impressive list.

[sealofarchives]

Misc mini-oneshot 1 (Mainly platonic)

Warnings: None

A/N: I didn't make any edits so if some of the dialogue feels wonky (I had to deal with some annoying real life stuff which sort of influenced to writing this)

This is probably shorter than what I usually write so, I don't want to jinx myself with other stuff while I'm busy with classes

The three turtles hovered over the softshell turtle's shoulders as Donnie looked over (Y/N)'s new phone and the phone case covering it.

"For something that's supposed to protect the phone, Raph doesn't get why it has to be close to 50 bucks..."

"Its mainly because of the phone case, also acting as a charging system for some wireless ports."

"I still don't believe its quote on quote 'made of recyclable material' from what the packaging box says."

Donnie hands back your phone to you as you sighed.

"I kind of got rushed to pick a case because apparently there's also a difference between the regular and pro versions."

"I didn't want to stick with a bland basic color one but, the other options were either really tacky stuff. Or just random flower decorations."

"I think the flowers look really nice!"

"We could surprise you with a different phone case for your birthday!"

You smiled back at Mikey as his brothers were slightly humored at the idea.

"No offense, still insane that you went a week and four days only using it for assignments."

"And when you spent an entire Sunday waiting on a replacement battery from the store. Only for it to be a waste of time, realizing how old the phone really is."

You winced looking at the new phone just as Raph lightly smacked Leo's forehead from his comment.

"The old phone was a gift from one of my aunts but, since it takes like an hour to get there. Including her being busy with work, where it took until this Monday where she finally got the transfer pin..."

"I don't want to drive the same bad luck at Donnie."

"I dunno you were pretty lucky that your teacher got your email about the sudden situation. And she didn't mind the small updates in case the phone battery got in the way of your assignments."

"Also you got to see an old favorite character of yours from an unexpecting place regarding this year's halloween theme."

"Donnie would have gone into mad scientist mode if he got stuck with the situation you were in."

Donnie furrowed his brows at the box shell turtle in annoyance as you quickly changed the subject.

"Part of me was kind of stubborn not wanting to start fresh with the new phone."

"Like I was realizing how much I saved a lot of goofy photos of stuff I like and eventually..."

"The good times we have hanging out together."

"I might have gone on my parents' nerves about it but, I don't regret making that decision. Even if it felt like a witch cursed me with the worst tech issues."

Gentle smiles brightened the lair as Donnie scoffed.

"A cybernetic witch is nothing compared to my superb tech ninpo!"

"She could not handle the arsensal of various weapons aimed at her or making the worst mistake of picking on (Y/N)!"

"Mikey was right about the mad scientist part, just under a different context."

Donnie then proceeded to chase after his siblings as Raph saw a glance of your phone's screen.

The alligator snapping turtle grinning at the same photo that finally made you part of their chaotic friend group. Almost squished together in a group hug with April but, you hugging back at them.

[yzafre]

who wore it better – 2003 v 2012 episode comparisons

I said I wanted to do this in my 2003 thoughts post, and I’m gonna. I've been picking away at this for a couple weeks now.

I’m focusing on places where they actually recycled a storyline rather than adapted general concepts.  Fugitoid and the space arc is an example of the second method – Robot Scientist with a connection to a Dangerous Machine is a shared concept, but the stories are different.

“Ohhh how did we end up here we’ve GOT to figure out how to get home, our Dad might still be in danger” versus “we HAVE to collect the McGuffins before the enemy or earth is going to EXPLODE. AGAIN.” You know?

Comparing those types of adaptations could be done, but it’s not what I’m interested in here.  I specifically want to look at the places that made me think “oh, 2012 just copied this” while I was watching 2003.

Now, obviously this is extremely subjective.  So take this as me defending my nominations for winner in these categories, rather than some sort of objective truth.  I am presenting my dinky power-point on why you should vote for my favorites.  Ect.  Your preferences may be different!

My ramblings on the episodes got long (should I have split this into parts? maybe! didn't though), so uhhhh...

tl;dr: Scoring got weird at 3.5 to 2003, 3 to 2012, and two draws.

Key takeaways: 2003 better matches my personal tastes, and what makes 2012 good is the stuff specific to its iteration, rather than copying 2003

With all that taken care of, here’s my opinions, in very messy order.

Meet Casey Jones vs The Good, The Bad and the Casey Jones

So, this was the very first episode that made me sit back and go: wait.  This is just.  The same thing? 

Raph loses a fight, loses his temper violently over it.  He then goes out to get some air and runs into Casey, getting into a fight.  Raph goes back and apologizes to his brother, and then they have to deal with the Casey situation.  Eventually they’re friends.

That being said, they do handle things a bit differently inside of those plot points, in a way that makes me very split on which one is better.

So, this episode is doing two things: introducing Casey (at least to the turtles, in 2012’s case), and spotlighting Raph’s anger issues, and the shows handle both of them differently.  So let's look at them:

Raph and his anger

I want to start with the positioning of the episode within the wider series.

This is the 4th episode of 2003.  At this point, they’re still setting up the characters and your understanding of them – so this is really here to say hey, our Raph has a temper, that’s going to be a thing going forward. (I'm watching '87 right now, and while I've heard Raph gets more of his anger late in the series, at the beginning he is... not that. So signaling this for people who might have watched the previous show is valid.)

After this, I don’t remember there being other episodes that are Explicitly About Raph’s anger issues?  That’s not to say there aren’t any – there very well could’ve been some that were just so boring I don’t remember them, which would be a whole other issue – but what I remember of him being, to quote the show, a “hot-head” is integrated into other stories.

For 2012, this is nearly halfway through season 2, and is one of 3 episodes I can think of off the top of my head that at least start out framed as a lesson on Raph’s anger issues.  (The one with the guy that turns into a spider mutant, this one, and…. Okay so I don’t remember the details but I’m Pretty Sure I remember there being another one post-space arc).

Now, in theory this is good – having a sort of long-term journey recurring throughout the series.  In practice… eh. 

This is very subjective, but from the way the topic was constantly put on the shelf until they wanted to use it for an episode, to the way it was all extremely surface level and used mostly for jokes, it didn’t do much for me.

That aside, let’s look at the content of the episode itself:

Raph's anger issues have two different tones here.

2003 Raph’s snapping at Mikey is framed a lot more seriously – and a lot more dangerously – than 2012 Raph going at Leo.  And, accordingly, ‘03 Raph is a lot more horrified at his actions, whereas ‘12 Raph is more petulant, unwilling to fully own up to his mistake.

That carries over to when they’re “getting some air” - ‘03 Raph is blatantly angry with himself, where ‘12 is complaining about his brother’s not getting it.  I do think some of that frustration with himself is buried underneath, but it's interesting to note the difference between how aware of it they are. (Of course, ‘12 also didn’t try to brain his brother over the head with a metal pipe.  So.)

The two different versions also shifted what they chose to have “spelled out” versus implied.  What I mean is.... okay, so ‘03 had Raph explicitly say “What is wrong with me” – that frustration with himself I mentioned earlier – where it’s kind of buried underneath for ‘12.

On the other hand, ‘12 Raph flat out says he wasn’t angry, just “determined to win,” when explaining himself to Splinter, whereas with ‘03 the reasoning comes from Raph’s “You think you’re better than me?” line during the fight (and a bit of Mikey’s taunting, the menace), allowing you to (very easily, let's be real, I don't know that you can really count this as subtext) connect the dots on how it escalated.

So, that leads to their fight with Casey – where they both get carried away, before coming to their senses and questioning what they’re doing (and subsequently getting surprise-attacked).  The difference here is that ‘03, upon calming down, went back to trying to talk some sense into Casey (using the lessons he’s obviously trying to absorb himself), while to me ‘12 Raph just kinda seemed disoriented by it all?

Which. Fair.

Next step: the apology.  VERY different receptions.  The ‘03 brothers greet Raph with worry and care, and take his apology quietly and warmly, whereas for ‘12 they act like this is another Tuesday, a bit dismissive, and tease and taunt him through his apology.  I’m not trying to disparage the ‘12 turtles here – not exactly – more so observing the difference in tone once more.

When people say the ‘03 turtles feel older, I think this is a huge part of it – the ‘12 turtles’ behavior feels very “stupid teenager”.  And I mean that in a genuine, fairly affectionate way.  I remember being that age, I was dumb.  You don’t know how to handle all these strong feelings, you have no impulse control. Also around 2012 I remember being genuine being deeply uncool, so. But ‘03 are demonstrating a higher level of emotional maturity, compared to that, and it does make them feel older.

Anyways, after that you get the reunion with Casey, having very different tones.  ‘03 purposefully tries to reach out and rehabilitate help Casey get himself under control, whereas ‘12 diverges into a surprise attack by the Foot where Raph and Casey bicker their way into teamwork.

Overall, ‘03 takes a more... introspective? Approach to Raph’s anger, where ‘12 flickers between being slightly emotional and using the situation for humor or cool action scenes – it feels like setup for an arc that I never felt we got satisfying payoff for.

For my tastes, I think I prefer ‘03 for the Raph part of the episode, if only because it remains thematically cohesive till the end.  From start to finish, Raph is trying to impart the lesson he wants to learn to Casey.  With 12, it feels like the “Raph’s anger issues” thread got a bit lost/abandoned in building up the Raph-Casey dynamic.

Speaking of...

Casey Jones

I think ‘12 is the better Casey intro episode.  There, I said it.

I know, I know!  It’s not technically where we meet Casey, we already saw him interacting with April (also scenes I like), but... although having finished 2003 I think ‘03 has the better overall Casey (mostly because they give him like. Actual personal connections to the world), ‘12 has the better initial burst of character, in my opinion.

His little intro monologue is so stupid, and I love it.  The skates and the little taser-gloves he obviously put together himself (and the fact that we only got one episode of Donnie and Casey bonding over this kind of engineering is criminal???).

The initiative to follow Raph down, his reactions to Splinter, the entire subway tunnel chase scene, where his and Raph’s rapport is building up... it’s good stuff!  I like it!  Maybe there’s a bit less depth in some places – we don’t get the personal connection with the Purple Dragons, how it ties back to his family – but his character voice, his initiative and impulsivity, and his creativity all come through.

It’s such a shame they didn’t do more to add to his character throughout the series in ‘12, because he had a fantastic early showing.  But then, that series didn’t seem interested in doing that for any of their characters, to me.  Sigh.

But... just looking at the episode itself, I'd give the Casey have to 2012.

So... draw?  Great way to start off, I know.

Shredder Strikes Back vs The Invasion (or: Leo gets thrown through a window)

So, this is a tough competition, we’re gonna have to take this point by point, I mean -

2012.  It’s 2012.  Are you kidding me.

Okay, look.  2012 already has an advantage just on moving this from halfway through season 1 to the season 2 finale, but, I mean... come on.

With 2003, there was barely any build up with the Shredder.  We’d seen him sort of being in charge of the various villains since early on – but the turtles didn’t see that!  For them, he showed up, tricked Leo, Splinter gave some back story, they fought and then Splinter seemingly killed him.  It just... wasn’t that dramatic? To me??

So when you have Leo thrown through the window, whispering “he’s back”, I was just like... I see no reason for this level of dread.  It doesn’t feel that personal, or important, or.... anything, really.  I know 2003 came first, but having watched 2012 beforehand this was kind of a letdown.  Didn’t feel earned.

Now, 2012 on the other hand....

Shredder has been a constant, ever-increasing threat since the moment he showed up in Season 1.  It was already personal with Splinter, yes, but then he also became a subject of looming dread for the turtles themselves.  And it doesn’t come out of nowhere. 

Like, yes, we, the viewers, were aware 2003 Shredder survived, but otherwise he was just hanging out off-screen, doing who knows what.  He wasn’t on the mind.  2012, on the other hand, showed the way Shredder was slowly amassing power, planning for something.

And then you add the Kraang on top of it.

Like, seriously, making this a two-prong threat is. Mwah!  The boys are falling apart, stressed by the time-limit of the upcoming Kraang invasion, disagreeing on how to handle it.  And then the argument gets cut short by their home being discovered – they don’t even get a chance to choose their path together, because they have to run, and everything’s chaos, and they’re still focused on the Kraang.

And that’s when the Shredder comes in.

This is insult on top of injury with everything going wrong that possibly could.  This is an immaculate payoff to the set-up they’ve been doing all season. This is fantastic.

And when Leo is thrown through the window, you feel it – the dread, the horror, the regret.  It really feels like the breaking point of “we can’t take any more” that leads to them retreating.  It has a weight to it that 2003’s version was sorely missing.

When it comes to Leo getting thrown through a window, 2012 takes the win, hands down.  The stakes, the drama, and my investment are all so much higher than they were in ‘03, no contest, it’s my favorite part of ‘12.

What comes after, on the other hand....

Tales of Leo + The Monster Hunter vs Season 3a (or, the Farmhouse Arc)

Maybe it’s unfair to compare 2 episodes to 8 episodes.  And maybe this is diverging from my “only episodes that are directly connected” rule I stated in the beginning, but I need to get this off my chest.  Because I just.  I’m not impressed by 2012’s farmhouse arc. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warning: rant ahead, this is VERY subjective and heavily based in my personal tastes.  Reminder that I do genuinely enjoy 2012, I just think the farmhouse arc is the lowest point in the whole series and is representative of what I find to be the weakest aspect of the series’ writing across the board.  That being said.

I see what 2012 was trying to do, by drawing out Leo’s recovery over all those episodes, giving the characters some space to breathe.  But they didn’t do it well in my opinion, and honestly the whole thing.  Flounders. 

2012’s best feature is its plot writing, how one episode tumbles into the next, Rube Goldberg machine-style, across an entire season.  But at the farmhouse, they’re removed from the greater plot, and that’s not doing the writing any favors.

And it’s not that the episode ideas are bad – I generally think they’re pretty interesting!  It’s just that without the inter-connected plot, they need something else to push them from “okay” to “exceptional”.  Usually, this would be where deeper characterization and relationship building would kick in instead, but uh.  I don’t personally think 2012 is great at that.

They under-cut the message of the episode with Big Foot, the Casey and Donnie friendship doesn’t really go anywhere after this, every other episode where inter-personal issues are only dealt with on a very surface level become even more obvious and a bit annoying without the greater plot to distract from it. Yes I know this is a kids show, but A:tlA had already finished airing at this point, also on Nickelodeon.

I think there’s a consistent issue with character writing in 2012 where they do what looks like set-up with no intent to ever give a meaningful pay-off or significantly change the status-quo, and that’s very much on display here.

And it’s not that there was nothing good in the season – I liked what they were doing with Raph, and how he was trying to help/encourage Leo, while somewhat bungling it in very realistic ways.  It was a fascinating look at what this Raph acting at his best as the Lancer trope could be, and I genuinely wish they leaned into it more later down the line.

Also, I’m always thrilled to see the Leo-April friendship get some focus, so Eyes of the Chimera was a favorite.  But across the board... the season didn’t wow me, and the longer it went on, the more I could see the cracks.

It all tops off with Vision Quest, which was my biggest disappointment in the entire series, the point at which I had to really stop and reset my expectations on what kind of story the writers were interested in telling.  The summary describes them having to go on a spiritual journey to really face themselves and their weaknesses, and I was so excited!  But then it was just.  Really surface level.  And occasionally confusing.

Raph needs to work on his temper, sure – but how is this any different than any of the other episodes about it?  Do we look at all at where his anger comes from?  A deeper way to handle it?  No, of course not.

Mikey needs to focus, stop getting distracted – I mean, yeah sure I guess.  Not a particularly interesting way of handling it, though.  Also, even if he manages it here, I know it's not going to pan out to the rest of the show, they’re not giving up their easy source of humor for the younger demographic.

And Donnie needs to... stand his ground? What?  I was so caught off guard.  It’s not that it’s completely out of touch, we see him coming up with complex paths to his goals, trying to think his way around of problems, ect, but... it was never really highlighted or presented as a real problem other than maybe the episode on instinct over thinking too hard?  It just felt really disconnected from anything else they were doing with him.  A genuinely interesting pay-off scene, with no solid set-up.

And Leo.  Oh jeez.  My friends.  WHAT is up with how they handled Leo’s knee injury?  The pain is just in my mind? It's not real??  Really???  No, thank you.

Like... I think this was supposed to be a riff on what Splinter says about ‘03 Leo’s coma, and him being trapped in his head due to fear – but because in ‘12 they tied it to an actual, specific physical injury, the execution falls apart. 

(Especially when they use the same flash-effect they used on Leo having issues with his knee of Splinter having issues later in the series but I probably shouldn't take that into account here.)

I mean, his quest is the closest to being satisfying, because they had lain interesting groundwork with his struggle with recovery and his insecurities in previous episodes, but then they just completely bungle it at the end! Argh!

I was so excited for Vision Quest, but this didn't tell me anything new about the characters or progress the characters in any meaningful way! It had no effect on how the characters are written going forward. So – other than some admittedly very cool fight choreography – what was the point?  Was there one??  It felt like putting on the trappings of an emotionally deep story without any of the actual, you know.  Depth.

I am clawing at the walls. Look at all the potential you wasted.

And yes, I’m aware this is all very subjective, and again part of a show for kids, but that’s how it hit me.

The 2003 farmhouse arc, on the other hand, was very short, and I think it benefited from that.  It had two episodes, and it knew what it was doing with both of them.  They felt purposeful, in the larger arc of the story.

First episode: they make their way to the farmhouse, Leo’s in a coma (according to Splinter, one driven by his fear), and his family tells stories of when he was brave/strong as a little kid to try and bring him out.

Wonderful, amazing, I love this episode.  So much character work – both in the past and present!  By going back to when they were kids, it helps us contextualize the turtles’ relationships by making them simpler.

In showing early memories that probably started cementing their views of each other, we see the core around which they developed.  By seeing which memory each brother chooses to present, we get some insight into how they each see Leo.  It gives us a point A to our current point B, which allows us to extrapolate the line between the two, how they developed.

And then you also get the little moments of how the brothers are handling this catastrophic event, how they react to the stress, to seeing their brother so hurt – Raph especially!  It’s pure character work and I love it.

After that, we get one episode of shenanigans, which is both representative of that “space to breathe” after Leo woke up, and also gives space for the B-plot (which is the truly arc-important plot) of Leo, now awake, dealing with his own handling of this stressful situation.

Is the A-plot of this episode quite as good as some of the ideas for the 2012 episodes?  Honestly, no, but just the fact that it’s carrying the Leo recovery story pushes it ahead.  We see Leo struggling with his failure, Raph stepping up to herd him back on the right track – the idea of physically remaking his swords to remake himself!  And, though we don’t know it yet, how hard Leo takes this is great foreshadowing to how he reacts going into his season 4 breakdown.

And then, having done the character work they wanted to accomplish, the writers go back to the main story.  The characterization here matters (and also is good) in a way that whatever is going on in the 2012 farmhouse arc just.  Isn’t. 

In my opinion.

Okay, rant over, winner is obvious, moving on.

Triceratons

Again, we’re not comparing most of the space arcs, as that’s apples to oranges, but there are two episodes that caught my attention:

Rogue in the House vs Dinosaur Seen in Sewers!

Here we've got two episodes where the turtles find a Very Confused Triceraton and trick him into helping them.

I like the 2003 one better.

Honestly, it comes down to the context of the episode.  Rogue in the House comes after the turtles have been in space and when they know more about who the Triceratons are.  2012 on the other hand is a sudden introduction to a new arc.

2003 also... questions the ethics of their decision more, by the end.  It’s a bit more empathetic?  And I appreciate that.

I will give 2012 credit that translating “we’ve been dropped into the middle of a war where both sides are bad” over to be attached to the Kraang, which they’ve built up already as a powerful alien threat, was clever.  It doesn’t have the same edge of commentary that “and one of these sides looks just like us humans” has, but it is clever use of their existing world-building, and I like it.

The Arena vs The Arena of Carnage

The most obvious connection in the 2012 space arc – the turtles get thrown into a gladiator arena.

Now, 2003 does have an unfair advantage in this comparison, as The Arena is heavily bolstered by the set-up work done in The Big House, giving you a sense of place, stakes, connection to the other characters...

That last bit is where my bias and personal taste shows: I really love the turtles making any kind of meaningful connection with other characters, and I find this more convincing in the 2003 version than the 2012 one.

But 2012 also weakens itself in its own right by doing some setup here with no long-term pay off.  You’ve got your fellow prisoner, who turns out to be a Triceraton who objected to the leadership's decisions... and after this episode, that means nothing!  Cool, okay.

Like I get that was a part of the episode they’re pulling from, but if they’re not planning on reusing that long-term story, then they really could have cut that aspect all together.  I know they have enough creativity in them to adapt the concept of “stuck in a gladiator arena” to do something more interesting, they’ve proved they have it in them.  They just... didn’t, and the plot point didn’t translate well.  Ah, well.

2003 also wins this one.

City at War vs... City at War?(???)

Look, I am only comparing these because they use the exact same name.  Otherwise, it’s nowhere near a fair comparison.  For 2012, this is actually part of a couple episodes where they talk about there being a power vacuum after the Shredder is out of the picture, but...

Can we be so real?  They don’t even get close to the scale of 2003.  Like with the farmhouse, it’s not that they don’t have any good ideas – I like the Don Visioso episode quite a bit – but it never gets to the depth or scale I want it to. 

Like, 2003 made it visually obvious that the city is falling apart, that things are really out of control, in a way you can feel. Though, honestly, I’m not even sure 2012 could reach the levels of 2003, because they never put as much effort into making their NYC feel... real?  I guess?

Also, the 2003 City at War arc is just.  It’s really good, guys.  It did such great work on Leo and Raph’s characterization, the danger in the city is palpable, the tension is thick, and then you add Karai on top of it all?

You’d think 2012 could push this, given the added dimensions to Karai and her connection to Shredder, but it ends up falling short.  Point again goes to 2003.

What a Croc! Vs It Came From the Depths (Leatherhead)

So. I am painfully biased, because It Came From the Depths is my favorite 2012 Mikey episode, and I thought What a Croc! was... just okay.

I frequently bemoan that 2012 didn’t lean more into long-form character arcs for their story, and this is one of the central episodes that defined my desire for Mikey’s arc.

The instant compassion and understanding he has for Leatherhead – the way he recognizes and is willing to work with his trauma responses, but also is childishly impatient with the process when it gets messy later on, showing he still has some maturing to do – it's great, and I love it.  I didn’t find the same kind of depth in the 2003 episode.

On the other hand, long-term I like Leatherhead better in 2003, just because he’s more present as ally, friend, or even family.  2012 Mikey’s always excited to see Leatherhead, but you don’t exactly see them hanging out.

But this is about the episode, and for that, I’ll give it to 2012.

Renet (Time Travails + Return of the Savanti Vs Turtles in Time + Tale of the Yokai)

I’ll be real with you, 2003 gains points with me just because this is another example of 2012 poorly shoving in romance. I would like to make it clear – I don’t have an objective issue with the turtles being in romantic relationships.  It’s just... don’t put it in there if the writing's going to be so... bad. And boring. And unnecessary.

Additionally, this particular example put me off a bit more because... hm. Okay, the episode starts with Mikey going “I'm never gonna get caught up in all that!" Only for the show to do the writing equivalent of saying "of course you will, as soon as the right person comes along. And here she is!"

And uhm.  Okay, so, I’m asexual with a big ? when it comes to romance.  So that framing is..... nghghghgh I don't like it. Like I get the joke, but it still gave me the ick.

Also it was another infatuation-at-first-sight situation like Donnie which. Is a romantic trope that is So Stupid, you CANNOT tell me that's how it actually works, I don't believe you, and also it makes for stupid, boring writing. So there.

Ahem.

Once you get past that, there’s points to be made for both episodes.  The way the 2003 turtles find Renet just kind of tiring but can’t help going along with her anyways is very funny to me, but 2012 lets them do Tales of the Yokai, and I enjoy the concept of them getting to see what Actually Happened Back Then, rather than just hearing subjective stories of it.  Adds some texture.

I dunno on this one – if it’s Time Travails vs Turtles in Time, 2003 wins, but once you move on to Tale of the Yokai I give it to 2012.  Call it a draw?

Loosely inspired by

Okay. So. These are things where I can’t say “Oh, they were just doing this story again”, but where I think there might have been some heavy inspiration.  Your mileage may very on these, and you could think I’m completely wrong, but I thought they’d be interested to talk about.

Even if they are from Back to the Sewers.

The Engagement Ring to The Power Within Her

April gets magic jewelry that possesses her, goes on a rampage?  Admittedly, the set-up is very different, as is the tone, but... well, you have to wonder.

I thought The Engagement Ring was one of the better episodes of Back to the Sewers, but as entertaining as it was, I’m still going to give this to 2012, I think.  I like things that have more build-up to them, and they did pretty good at setting up this episode ahead of time, building up that dread.  And it just did more with the concept, you know?

Also, it fit well into my interpretation/re-write of April’s character, so.

Identity Crisis to Brain Worms

I mean.  Turtles get brain-washed by the Foot, have to be broken out of it by being reminded of memories/who they were.  Methodology of the brainwashing is very different, admittedly, which is why I put this down here rather than in the main section!  But it’s similar enough for me to connect them.

This is another situation where I think 2012 took a concept and further developed it.  The brain worms are fantastically gruesome, and really treated like the existential horror it should be.  The amount of fics I’ve seen expanding on the brain-worms concept is proof of how it hooks in people’s brains.

Another point to 2012.

Conclusion

So let’s run a tally.

I'm not sure the two Back to the Sewer episodes count, but I also maybe have broken my rule on the farmhouse arc... I guess we could count those as half points?

Casey Intro: Draw

Window: point 2012

Farmhouse: half-point 2003

Lost triceraton: point 2003

Gladiator arena: Point 2003

City at War: point 2003

Leatherhead intro: point 2012

Renet: Draw

Losely inspired: cumulative point 2012

So that's... 3.5 for 2003, 3 for 2012, and two draws? Pretty close.

Realistically, I think these should be the two takeaways from my opinions:

First, 2003 better matches my personal tastes. I'm a character arc girly, and 2003 gave a lot more attention to that aspect of their writing than 2012 did, and that affects my opinions. See: the Vision Quest rant.

Second, what makes 2012 good is the stuff that’s specific to its iteration.

The way they adapted the Hamato Yoshi backstory from 2003 to be about Splinter and Shredder, making Karai Splinter’s stolen daughter, and how that whole plot line plays out.  The way they make the Kraang a whole organization, and their alliance with Shredder.  The full season, Rube-Goldberg machine buildup of plot.  These are all the thing that make it excel.

So... yeah. That's my thoughts. Your opinions might be different, and - if you're nice about it, please - I would love to hear your thoughts on what I've said, which episodes you like better, and why you like them! Shows hit different people, well, differently!

[irondadfics]

Hi! I recently read really great fics by JolinarJackson (Can't Take The Sky series + And If You Can't Remember A Better Time) and I was wondering if you knew of any other fics that have a similar premise. Tony finds out that people (SHIELD, Hydra, etc) with bad intentions are looking for Peter (he's an escape asset or they think of him as a weapon and want their hands on him, etc) and Tony + Avengers keep him safe so they can't get to him. Or maybe Peter does get captured and has to get rescued. Thank you!

Could these be close to what you are looking for?

Archetype by Bean_reads_fanfic

Tony knows something is up when the research of ex-Hydra agents gets recycled in an underground Oscorp lab… what he doesn’t expect is the boy in a hospital gown sticking to the ceiling; or, how said boy proceeds to imprint on him like a baby duckling (a poor decision on his part, really). Did he mention he wasn’t intending on bringing home a kid that day?

History has Its Eyes on You by AziOfHearts

The Spider’s world crumbled apart the moment the door opened. All order and discipline and structure was thrown into the fire that was crawling up the walls of the facility. He scaled the wall and hovered over the door, waiting for someone to walk through. An instructor, a guard, a doctor, an Avenger (which he just knew were the ones who started the fire), absolutely anyone. But no one walked in. … “Let us go!” The metal encased man shouted from inside the cage. The Spider spoke no English, so he didn’t understand a word that they said. But the instructor and handler seemed to. “Why should we? I could always set Паук on you and see how he deals with the all mighty Avengers.” The instructor’s voice was notably calm, even with the flames licking at the door jamb. The Spider watched as all eyes turned to him.

weapons never weep by McSquishee

“Let me make something clear, insect. You are a freak of nature that serves no purpose outside of science and war, and you do not have nor deserve the luxury of human rights. I gave you the opportunity to make this easy on yourself, but if you must be difficult, I will have no qualms over forcing you into submission by any means necessary.”  The man looked over to him, his expression unwavering and offering no guilt or remorse.  “You are naught but a weapon, and I will treat you as such. Don’t forget that.” -or- On a mission gone haywire, Peter is abducted by HYDRA, and they will do whatever it takes to harness his biology for their benefit.

The Missing 92 Days by YellowDistress

Peter wakes, ripping through the surface of the bath water, surrounded by the bodies of Hydra Agents. Their blood is on his hands.

Broken Thoughts (I Remember Everything) by blackwatchandromeda (avenris)

"Peter, who am I?" He hesitates. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know."  - Peter Parker has been missing for thirty-six days. When Tony Stark finally finds him, he's wandering around New York with no memories, unaware of where and who he is. The missing month is a mystery, and nobody knows what happened to him - least of all the kid himself. Peter, meanwhile, is trying to piece together who he was. What doesn't help is the big secret he's sure Tony is keeping from him, or the way the man is avoiding him. Nobody notices how the missing month is catching up to them until everything goes wrong.

[floatingcatacombs]

Clear Card Crit

12 Days of Aniblogging 2024, Day 9

I've been waiting to go hater mode on this manga for years, but they just kept pushing back when it would end again and again. Only now that it's over can I properly lay it to rest. Full spoilers, of course.

Veteran Floating Catacombs readers should be well aware that Cardcaptor Sakura is my favorite CLAMP series, with a truly classic anime adaptation to boot. A couple of years ago I underwent a chronological readthrough of their works, and collected my takes in a series of essays titled "Why Is CLAMP Like This". My big takeaway was that they’re shoujo libertines, but it's also true that on some level, CLAMP defies categorization entirely. Unfortunately, their post-TsubasaHolic output has largely consisted of retreading old ground, with an endless progression of rehashes, sequels, and callbacks. Sure, there have been crossovers since the days of the CLAMP School, but it’s felt extra blatant this past decade and a half. We’ve gotten 2010s sequels to Wish, Legal Drug, xxxHolic, Tsubasa, and, of course, Cardcaptor Sakura.

How could they resist? Cardcaptor Sakura is CLAMP's most famous work by far, and its 20th anniversary was coming up in 2017. With promises of an anime adaptation and plenty of merchandising in tow, CLAMP got to work on the Clear Card Arc.

First things first: that anime is a terrible way to experience the Clear Card Arc, and Cardcaptor Sakura in general. A surprisingly weak effort from Studio Madhouse, the anime adaptation of Clear Card Arc has middling production values, a washed-out aesthetic with far too much bloom, and bland designs. Something's wrong with all of the eyes. I do appreciate the continuity changes to reflect the original's anime-only arcs – Meiling is back! However, this adaptation suffers from a staggering amount of filler. Even the manga-adapted parts play out at a dreadfully slow pace, as if they’re just stalling for time and padding out a dearth of chapters. I like even the most aimless parts of the 1998 anime, but here it just doesn’t sit right. Also, the new soundtrack is so bad that they start recycling the original OST halfway through the production.

The Clear Card Arc anime ends in a truly terrible fashion. By the final episode, we still know nothing about the main conflict, just that a handful of characters, including Syaoran, are deliberately keeping Sakura in the dark. We're left with only Sakura’s cryptic nightmares and a friend's ominous butler as clues. Ten minutes before the show ends, we’re still fucking around and baking sweets, until finally Sakura has an encounter with the presumed main villain that results in a timeline reset. The first few minutes of the first episode play out again, except everything feels a little wrong now.

Writing this out, this sounds almost kind of cool. Surreal, even. But for such a mediocre show, it's not that in the slightest! No resolution, no foreshadowing, just all of the plodding events from the past 21 episodes fully undone, as if the show is mocking and taunting the viewer. “How’s that for wasting your time?”

The Clear Card manga at least knows what it wants to be – a plot-driven mystery doubling down on the series lore. The first few volumes of the manga act as something of a smokescreen for the eventual plot developments, much like how xxxHolic Rei began as a continuation of the original before revealing itself to be an alternate timeline and getting plotty. Of course, this being the only stuff that the anime adapts explains exactly why it felt so vague and formless – it’s supposed to be an aimless rehash! You see, Sakura’s powers are now growing at such an unchecked pace that she’s able to create new cards unconsciously. Through recalling old memories she’s been unknowingly manifesting remixes of old CCS scenarios into reality, capturing cards that are largely simulacra of the originals.

I’ve gone back and forth on the merits of this plot twist, but having now read the whole thing, it’s one of the better tricks in this manga’s repertoire. It’s a bit of a meta jab at nostalgia – Sakura is simply going through the emotions because that’s what’s expected of her, to the point where the past is literally being summoned into the present, preventing any character growth or development on her part. I wish it had been the main narrative conflict, to be honest.

Of course, I can’t give them too much credit, because a lot of Clear Card’s problems can be blamed on CLAMP simply playing it safe with their characters. I went into it expecting to see cute moments of Sakura and Syaoran early on in their relationship, having confessed at the end of the original manga and again in the second movie. But it often feels as if they’re right back where they were before, fully unable to convey their emotions to one another and relying on friends and circumstances to mediate. Characters like Yukito and Toya don’t get any meaningful or sweet moments, instead showing up only to move the plot forward when their abilities or connections are necessary. And don’t even get me started on Tomoyo. Sure, she’s around plenty. But when plot comes to shove, she’s narratively set aside every single time, hardly even getting to dress Sakura in cute outfits. You can’t keep that from her!!! She needs her dressup time to live!!! Though in the end, I’m almost willing to forgive it all for Frogcaptor Sakura. Almost.

Anyways, as I said earlier the initial episodic format gives way to mysterious plot development after mysterious plot development. A lot of the card capturing is from here on out is largely incidental. Of course, the in-universe explanation is that Sakura is just manifesting cards left and right at this point in ways that don’t really require card abilities to be used, since she’s not being tested like in the original. But also, if we’re tapering down the fun card usage and the cute slice of life scenes, how much is really left?

Well, there’s a powerful sorcerer named Yuna D. Kaito who’s manipulating events behind the scenes. His goal, it seems, is to try and put pressure on Sakura in such a specific way that she manifests the exact card that he needs. What card is that? Why? What should be a straightforward scheme is drip-fed so slowly that it’s easy to lose the narrative thread. At least he has a cunty little rabbit who acts as his Kero-chan type guardian. She’s fun, although her role in the plot ends up oddly convoluted.

Kaito is the butler and sole guardian of a young girl named Akiho, who is Sakura’s age and gradually becomes more and more similar to her in both personality and demeanor as the series goes on. Unfortunately, neither of these new characters are a particularly exciting addition to this world. A more introverted Sakura without her existing social ties is fairly uninteresting, and it’s obvious from the very first appearance that the butler is scheming and going to be our Eriol-style villain.

Except Eriol wasn’t really that bad of a guy, was he? So one gets the feeling that Kaito’s villainy will give way to sympathetic motivations and a bittersweet resolution. This process somehow takes the entire manga. Sixteen volumes is an unbearably long length for the story actually being told here. For reference, the original Cardcaptor Sakura is only twelve volumes, and Eriol doesn’t even show up until halfway through. In the meantime, new characters are steadily introduced, and secret aspects of existing characters are gradually revealed, so it never feels stale. In comparison, Clear Card Arc has an incredibly small pool of new characters and concepts to work with, and it has to stretch them out soooooo much further than the original ever did. This means that Sakura as well as reader are constantly kept in the dark, and plot payoff happens so infrequently and is so carefully measured out that it just never feels good. The result is a truly meandering plot instead of anything resembling “narrative arcs”. 

It’s maddening. It’s lunacy. This is all pretty similar to the rest of CLAMP’s modern sequels – take the existing setting and add a few new characters, layer on the intrigue, provide some additional backstory, and see what happens. Drug & Drop and xxxHolic Rei are both like this, but they’re only a few volumes long apiece! Once again, sixteen volumes of drastically less substance than the original, is ridiculous. After the initial fakeout (which, to repeat, encompasses the entire Clear Card anime), the manga has a noticeable aversion to returning to the original’s vibes, except there’s nothing to replace it.

CLAMP’s modern artstyle, developed in the Tsubasa shounen mines, has noticeably thicker lines than their spindly compositions of old. It comes off as a bit simplistic in the early chapters, but as CLAMP drops all of their other series and begins to work at a slower pace, the drawings reach an impressive fidelity. Card Arc is a timeloop narrative with a lot of fairytale elements, so they went with steampunk and Alice in Wonderland as the primary motifs, neither of which are aesthetics that I'm particularly a fan of. At least they do go hard on them.

I’ve been putting it off, but I’m going have to actually summarize the later plot beats. Kaito keeps rewinding time for the sake of his Schemes, and curses Syaoran so that he can’t talk to Sakura about it. Great! He straight-up cast a spell of Narrative Contrivance. This will surely make things fun to read. Anyways, all of the time magic is taking a toll on Kaito, and he starts dying about it before we even know what’s going on or why. Sakura continues to get impossibly powerful, but it kind of stops being of concern to the plot? It’s is a shame because I was hoping they’d do a thing where someone dear to her has to try and put her down to keep the world from breaking.

CLAMP does finally detonate the setting in the last few volumes. We go full clockwork calamity, with every aspect of the narrative colliding such that the entire Tomoeda school puts on a steampunk fair revolving around a play titled “Alice in Clockland”, which was originally a magical book that nobody but Akiho read because she's the one who manifested it. Still on track? Okay, by putting on the play, Sakura and Akhio get sucked into the world of this book, but Syaoran (dressed as a steampunk catboy, for reasons) is able to dash in to help at the last second thanks to… Touya gaining the ability to stop time for a few seconds out of nowhere? Why are we stealing classic Jojo asspulls for Cardcaptor Sakura, of all things?

From here on out the manga aims to speedrun Tsubasa levels of Plot Bullshit. Syaoran has to fight his NPC doppelganger (also a catboy) because he wasn’t expected to make it into the narrative that Sakura and Akiho got sucked into. That whole mess ends with Kaito swapping Sakura and Akiho’s roles in the play, setting of a cascading chain of events that resets the timeline one last time and recasts Akiho as Sakura’s twin sister. That was Kaito’s plan all along. He needed to remove the magic from within her and place her under the protection of the Kinomoto family, so that evil British wizards wouldn’t seek her out and do fucked-up experiments to try and draw out her magical potential. That’s it! Why did this scheme need to be slow-rolled over the entirety of the manga? It’d be fine if it showed up late like Eriol in the original, but as a grand overarching justification for Clear Card Arc existing, it’s so shallow.

This timeline reset means that the opening of the manga rolls AGAIN, this time with Sakura and Akiho as bestie sisters. At least it explains why Kaito and the plot in general were so invested in making Sakura and Akiho converge on having nearly the same personality. Also, three or four separate characters take the time to call Sakura a siscon, including Tomoyo, who must be eating her own organs while saying that. I cannot fathom why they would take the time to brand her as such. I had to guess, it’s because stepsiblings are the one kind of ~scandalous relationship~ missing from the original CCS, and they wanted to finally get around to it decades later. But why is this coming up eight chapters before the end, only to be fully undone alongside the rest of this particular timeline in the finale? What did you mean by that, CLAMP?

Since everyone’s clued in on the time-loop bullshit at this point, Sakura and company are able to use the Clow Cards to record messages that can persist through loops, allowing them to break the cycle once and for all and travel to space in order to rescue the dying Kaito, who has… turned into a dragon and been imprisoned inside an illusory moon?

Look, nothing makes sense at this point, but at least this is compatible with my take on Touhou that any plot revolving around the moon is destined to become incredibly convoluted. Sometimes you gotta pull a quick Imperishable Night! The closest thing we have to a final boss at this point is an automated meteor spell set up by those damn offscreen British magicians, which Sakura does manage to disarm using her nascent demiurge powers. With one last reset, everyone gets their happy ending. Akiho can hang out with Sakura and friends and take care of Kaito as they figure out how to cure his time dragon illness, and she never has to worry about wizards hunting her down ever again. End manga.

Who is this for? Demographic crossovers have always been a strong point for CLAMP. They’ve got plenty of shoujo that can just as easily be appreciated by boys, and shounen and seinen that draw in all kinds. Combined with their unique aesthetics and atmosphere, CLAMP's best manga has something for everyone.

But Clear Card Arc is, comparatively, a funnel. You have to be a diehard fan of Cardcaptor Sakura to understand it in the first place, and you also have to be deeply invested in its lore and magic system. I don’t know about you, but those are just not what I come to this series for. Groups who will be disappointed include: Sakura x Syaoran shippers, slice of life enjoyers, acolytes of Tomoyo (patron saint of pining lesbians), people who like the nonmagical extended cast, and fans of the original anime who appreciate quality adaptations.

Clear Card Arc is a curious, yet ultimately meaningless, exercise in nostalgia. It mostly fails as a throwback, and decidedly fails as a soft reboot for pulling new fans in. Its priorities would interest almost no one except for CLAMP themselves, and its few novel ideas are stretched so thin that the whole thing feels like a well-drawn exercise in meaninglessness. CLAMP’s clearly been running out of steam these past fifteen years, shelving most of their projects in favor of ever-safer investments. Cardcaptor Sakura was the logical endpoint for this endeavor. And while they did enough obligate rehashing in the first few volumes to script the anime and stock the gashapon machines, one wonders who the rest is for. Were these sixteen volumes a passion project, borne out of total creative freedom, or was it stretched the way it was out of contractual and financial obligation? Both answers are dire.

Now that Clear Card is over, CLAMP plans to resume xxxHolic Rei, and while I liked that one, I hope more than anything that they’re able to take a good, long, break. CLAMP’s members are starting to grow old, and they've been working near-nonstop since early adulthood. Hopefully the royalties are good enough that they can take a break and get those creative juices flowing again, or even retire for good! I wouldn’t begrudge them one bit. They’re fascinating and accomplished mangaka, even if they also did Chobits.

One more rating, for old time’s sake.

CLAMP BULLSHIT-O-METER: 4/5

OVERALL RATING: 2/5

[cowboylament]

“With 50 years behind us…” Lucien said, his eyes looking at my lips. I let mine look at his for the first time in many years. That first night I’d seen him I noticed them. He didn’t even glance, didn’t even look in my direction or notice me until he found me with Eris. I’d felt so young, so childish, wanting to be under his gaze. Now I was no different, or entirely different. I wanted to know what they felt like, if they too were warm. 

“And what about real life?” I asked.

“What about it?”

“When things return to normal, as they will, you'll feel differently.”

“And?”

“And I will be left to want what I have never wanted before.”

Lucien smiled, there was a flicker of amusement but his brows mirrored the confusion mine had only just displayed. I knew that our real life was too close, always waiting to take us back to the places where we existed, where these things shared did not reign or govern anything.

or

Y/N doesn't know what Lucien meant Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Bonus, Ao3

I slept for the first three days. One by one my court, save Amren, kept me company in my room. Cassian joined me for dinner and Rhys was always there for breakfast. Morr laid in bed with me late into the afternoon gossiping about one thing or another. Azriel too, who had arrived late into the evening, returned over and over I think with a guilty conscience for not having been there from the start. 

The only other absent party was Lucien. 

I waited for him that first day. Even with the visits of others, their chatter, my mind was half in the silence of elsewhere. The house remained quiet, absent of life. There was no extra noise, no recurring sounds. He’d said we’d go back and we had. The future would look the same but in Velaris. 

On the fourth day, sleep did not appeal any longer, though sitting idle wasn’t much better. I couldn’t keep my attention on any book for longer than half a page, so I took long stretches by staring out the window. The fall breeze had begun to sweep through rattling the glass. I could see the chill like it were as real as the sun, the houses, like the air temperature took a realized shape on the horizon. 

“I brought this for you.” 

Morr had stopped knocking, not that I had much to hide. In her hands was a heaping plate of food, twin to her own. 

The talking points had not changed, we recycled the same topics even as they grew stale. Despite what she’d wanted to know the first night back she had not again brought up Lucien and when she did it was always in passing. Something about him staying in his room or the glares that had passed between him and Rhysand while I was being stitched up. She lingered over no topic, looked without longing to understand the events that had led to our arrival at the townhouse. 

“I saw Lucien on my way up.”

The scrape and clink of our silverware was the only noise. A false casualness, a feigned indifference.

“He emerged from his room then.”

“He joins us for meals now, sometimes I see him go into the library.”

When the days got long and boring, and night swept in before I could grow tired with it, I imagined his reason for not coming upstairs was because he’d left. I couldn’t imagine him anywhere in Velaris particularly, which frightened me. I could only imagine him existing in places we’d already been. In the Day Court library, in Adriata. If he left this city there was no coming back. I could do nothing for him.

 I don’t know if this reality was worse, but with similar ease in wounding him, he could bother me just the same as ever. We’d each saved the other's life so we were even. He owed me no visits, I needed no explanation. The fact that he could bother me just by not being here led me to believe it was better he not come at all. 

“Well,” I said, discarding my plate to my nightstand. Its clatter was the loudest noise to hit the house in the last few days. Everyone had taken to the same quietness as the wraiths. “He can be social when he wants to be.”

Morr pushed some food around. She wanted to know still, I made no mistake in that. Whether she’d been wanting to be polite or was waiting for me to broach the topic again was unclear. Even now, however, she said nothing. She moved to topics of dinner at the house of wind.

“He said he wants to talk to you first though.”

“About?”

“Well, I could venture a guess,” Morr said, relaxing into the usual conversations again. She threw herself into the pillows on the other side of my bed and buried herself into them. “I imagine he wants to get an idea of how you’re feeling about it all now that some time has passed.”

“He thinks I’d change my mind? I woke up and wanted Lucien dead?”

She sighed, “no, I think he just knows that night was intense and emotions were high.”

He acted this way with no one else, asking more than once if they meant it, what they wanted, or what they’d said. For all its well intentions I wondered if he found me so fickle, weak. It didn’t matter that words were the only thing I had, the thing I felt good at. It was distinctly brother, all other second-guessing came in the form of strategy, came from a High Lord. For as rare as it occurred, it evoked also the rare moment of doubt, questions if I weren’t in part given this job for the sake of having one.

“We can’t go back,” I said. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know but we can’t.”

Morr leaned up onto her elbow and retreated into the routine casualty we’d spent most of our lives sharing secrets with like there was nothing new about this. “If you wanted to take it back you could.”

“It's not that I wish to take it back, it's just different.”

“I found him here you know, that morning after.”

I had assumed he’d left on his own. After staying up all night he’d become too tired to sit any longer or he’d fallen asleep and it began to hurt his neck. I assumed he wandered downstairs and never came back. If he’d said anything, of why we were there, Morr didn’t reveal it and she’d get no words from me either. Silence passed. I checked my bandages, they were in place as I knew they were. I pressed down my collar, brushed my hair back, winced with the effort. I returned her stare only after I felt sufficient time had passed. 

“All these years you said he didn’t care about you. What is this I’m seeing now?” She asked.

“Emotions were high you said as much. He certainly hasn’t been particularly warm since.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“How do you feel?” The words at last burst from her, she couldn’t wait any longer. 

I threw my hands up with an exasperated sigh. There was no way to say it, I feel like I went to one world and woke up back in my own. And it all looks the same, but nothing is. I have to operate now, with the feelings of this one and the knowledge of the other and they can’t intertwine. 

Morr let out an equally frustrated laugh. Her’s was less malicious, but I felt the annoyance nonetheless. She just wanted to know, as she knew everything else before this. She was used to having my feelings and thoughts available to her. The males of ages ago at the time of their occurrence held little weight. It meant nothing to talk of them, their ends were understood and guaranteed. We’d spend hours in this very room, this very bed, going over every little detail. Now she wanted words for something that words did not exist for. 

“You told me about everyone else.” She stood from the bed and made to grab her plate. When she looked back at me, saw the look on my face, my stare, all annoyance had vanished. I half hoped Lucien was suffering my own brooding, though I had not felt much of his. She gave a half smile before rolling her eyes.“He’s different then.”

“I’m different.”

***

The following morning Rhysand brought with him no breakfast. I stretched at the knock he gave my door and the pain, though it was sitting beneath the skin, did not linger as long as it had before. When I called him in he remained in the hall.

“You’ve been given leave to haunt the rest of the house and not just your room.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome.” I threw the blankets off and with the most careful of movements rose out of bed. It took me less time than it had these past few days, but it was clear the wound still caused issues. Rhys walked over to put his arm out for assistance after I was up.

“Please, try to reel it in, your bedside manner is suffocating.”

“If you want to be treated like a baby you should have asked me to send Cassian.”

Rhys on our walk downstairs told of all the inhabitants of the townhouse. Lucien’s name remained absent in the reports of the latest comings and goings. As we made it down the stairs I half expected, even with the house empty, some sound would have returned to the world. That because I could leave my room the city outside the walls would slip in, that life reverted back to its ways with us. No, the world remained eerily quiet. 

In further disarray, my brother turned us left into the office rather than toward the dining room. I could smell the food beyond the threshold. When I saw the plates waiting, the tea, I stopped. Our arms slipped out from each other and he turned to see the issue.

“It's just breakfast,” he said when he saw the weariness of my posture.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, that's too bad. I have your favorites.”

We were both lying. It was not just breakfast and I was certainly hungry, he knew that and I knew that. The sound of my hunger could likely have been heard the moment he took that first step upstairs. Just as the sight of his office alone tipped me off on what this was really about. I wasn’t sure I could give him what he wanted. He, like Morr, was impossibly settled in some old way of thinking, of acting, that no longer was of any use to me here. He hesitated though, throwing his hands in his pocket, looking around the room with all the nonchalance of someone guilty.

“Morr said you want to know how I’m feeling about all this.”

“I might, but it's possible that I might also want to enjoy some quality time with my sister you know.”

“It's possible though unlikely.”

His eyes narrowed at me and though they remained playful, I sensed that a High Lord lay beyond them. Our game was coming to a close and an order was waiting.

“Things are a little time-sensitive right now, but we can talk about whatever you can talk about and then if we need to come back to it we’ll come back to it.”

When my brother had said we’d talk later it occurred to me that while I had made it out of the woods, Lucien had not. Part of him was still dangling there, or in between, running. He was safe but only within the confines of specific formulas. What terrible things happened to those who broke bargains. I’d avoided death of a terrible kind, what would be made of me if I didn’t uphold my end? It made my palms sweat, how easily this membrane could break, and how fast all that flooded it would end what had barely begun. 

“Ever the negotiator.”

Rhys heaved a sigh of relief. I knew he understood that I wanted to, to tell them of what was going on, but he couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t. Nevertheless, an easygoing smile returned to his face, but I didn’t take it for mockery. He said, “part of the job.”

We ate breakfast from the two armchairs. It was just the same as we had the mornings before, where what lacked in formality allowed the relaxation of family and the sharing of private jokes. The normalcy of it, of knowing what to say and how to make him smile, was of some comfort. When I leaned back against my seat, full, all that had once been terrifying in its abstract had moved into sharper clarity.

“Alright. Let's get it over with,” I said.

“We can begin wherever you see fit.”

I half expected some resistance, some confrontation, but when he said that it was obvious he wouldn’t be that way. It was my choice, and it had always been my choice. Even when he’d found out I was mated he’d lectured on my safety, but in the end, there had been some understanding that whatever I wished would be allowed. Things now were more complex but it was a good feeling, and an open one, the confidence of knowing someone was ready to listen to you rather than thinking I’d argue with a wall. 

“Everything I said still stands. I haven’t changed my mind or rethought it, and it's not because I was injured that I said it. This isn’t his fault, what they did.”

I didn’t have to say who. To name Lucien implied a level of tolerance I did not have. The bargain had been made and the mating bond existed and something in me wound tightly with the strings of fate had pulled me this way.

“How do  you visualize him here, in Velaris?”

“I don’t, I can’t, but I don’t think that means he won’t do well. He’s unfortunately good at what he does.” I relaxed into that statement just a bit, letting my eyes close on the images of us in the very same rooms over the years. People spoke warmly of him, even to me.

Rhys raised a brow, “you’d work with him?”

“It's not as if we haven’t already. If anything I’d see less of him. I’d speak to whoever they send from Autumn now. Somewhat ideal.”

“But you’d still see him, in this city. And if I made him part of the court, would the close proximity make you...”

“Explosive?” I offered.

“Rash.”

If we could avoid each other in a single house, moving through rooms seamlessly, how little we’d see each other when we’d have free reign of all the rest. Who was to say though, how we’d be now. That remained the most important factor of all, and it was entirely unknown. It doesn’t have to be this way forever. Though forever seemed bent out of shape, half submerged, hidden from view. My pursuit was aimless, not the least without having seen him again, seen how he’d be. Maybe it was this that was different, the level of our tempers and the deepness of the crease in our brow. Or maybe it was some other thing entirely, we knew something we had never known, of that impossible distance in death. He could indeed stray too far from me. 

“I don’t think it will be an issue,” was all I said.

Rhys huffed a laugh, but I watched his thoughts carry him away. I pulled at a loose thread of my pants, letting the fabric run in two directions, the thin line curving around the thigh. 

“I can’t tell you much else.” I began, “not even because you’re my brother I just don’t know what to say. It cannot be undone, whatever happened out there. But I can’t have the pressure also of having to prove to you something you don’t really desire to believe.”

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t trust him.”

Rhys winced, “well I don’t know his intentions.”

“That's why you had Azriel’s shadows in my room then, when he was there.” It was not like the shadow of death, what had shaken the chandelier. And despite the wind of the past few days, no draft had been strong enough to repeat it. It took me about two days of watching the window to work it out.

��I wanted to know if he was telling the truth.”

“And?” I didn’t think Lucien was lying but the certainty would be an added relief, to know what he thought. The mortification of their intrusion had already subsided after a few sleeps. It wasn’t worth the argument, I realized honestly that it only bolstered mine. He was not his family. Their watching had relieved a pressure, rather than adding to it for once. 

“Well if you’re going to fall for a few cheap lines..”

It didn’t matter to me that he was joking, a sharp pain spread across my chest like a shattering glass. Wherever Lucien was I’m sure he’d be feeling it. This might even have been the first thing he’d felt from me since we’d arrived. 

“Don’t be cruel.”

Rhys leaned forward as if he could backtrack, “I’m just saying. He’s from Autumn.”

“For a court that praises itself on making a new world, you’re awfully content to go with your old way of thinking when this new world shows up.” This struck him, truly, I could see it in the way he straightened, how his familiar posture turned more formal, considerate. “If you don’t intend to change then I have intentions too and I won’t waste my time. I’m too tired.”

The wind let out two howls, then another, before he released something from him that had been lingering, a tension or a breath.

“You trust him?”

“Yes.”

“And you like him?” 

I put a hand out, “let's not get ahead of ourselves.” 

He and I laughed, really laughed then for the first time in days. Not even because it was particularly funny, but for what it released. I think what had gone from him was that momentous weight of something so small as almost, almost losing the last family you have left. Almost not making it back, a minute too late, a mile too far, far too many almosts had been in place. But everything had happened as it did and I was here and at least to him, I was more or less the same. 

“I was worried your mate’s habits were rubbing off on you. You’ve become so serious.”

“I was just bored. How many times can I listen to you or Cassian talk about the time you had to walk up all 10,000 steps to the house of wind? At least my mate offers me some different entertainment.”

“So I heard,” Rhys smiled.

“Cassian’s a loudmouth.” 

“Oh no, you outed yourself that night. It's a quiet house and if I hadn’t nearly killed Lucien for the laugh he got when he heard I might have joined in when you’d admitted it. I’m not surprised though, you always liked to choose the males I hated.”

I rolled my eyes, “You’re insufferable and you’d probably like Lucien given that his jokes are always at my expense.”

“Well if he joins this court he’ll fit right in.” I met his stare, the amusement there and I knew he was making an offer to me as my brother first. “I’ll claim your mate.”

I wanted to feel better than I did, wanted to feel I’d done something, but nothing came of those words. It wouldn’t be as easy as sending a letter, Beron would take pleasure in the torment of it all, as he always did, as he always does. He’d want something.

“Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be happy,” he said.

“So did I.” 

Nothing had really been resolved. I still knew nothing. I had no frame of reference for the future or even the previous understanding of the deal we’d made of the bond with its rules and obligations. Everything was hinging on something else, and the thought that everyone in this court would be watching, wouldn’t even be able to help themselves by meddling in it, made my stomach hurt.

I closed my eyes, a lethargy overtaking me. “It doesn’t help much, having five people watch you mortify yourself.”

I could feel his amusement without looking. He didn’t get it though. I always knew what was going to happen, the stakes were low. No matter how I said it or showed it, that this was different, they didn’t get it. Lucien could be given refuge, could hear of our claiming, and decide to go anyway. The bond which had suddenly added so much weight to our world was still worth almost nothing. And they’d watch it happen, all the while meddling and probably making me look even less capable of having any power in this life at all.

“I’ll leave your business to you to work out.”

I opened my eyes just a bit, to reveal the slightest skepticism. 

He relented, “I can’t say what everyone else has planned.”

I groaned, sitting up straighter but found all the same I could laugh. I raised my glass to him, “Well let's at least hope we all find some entertainment.”

He raised his glass back and we sipped. I had no doubt it would be, this court always managed it. They probably already had a bet between them all going on how long it would take Lucien to move out. 

“Now.” Rhys sighed. “I need you to show me what happened that night.”

Presenting the memory to my brother didn’t bother me half as much as I thought it would, and it seemed twice as fast. Regardless he said nothing when he pulled himself from my mind, but he was rigid, eyes glazed over with thought. I asked him to walk me to the garden if only to rid him of the ailment. Just as soon as we walked into the hall, however, Lucien appeared on the other side. Rhysand took no small amusement in making himself scarce. He vanished completely behind his office door with some false excuse, the bastard. 

Lucien looked the same. I don’t know what I thought he’d look like, but I expected something palpable for me to hold onto. Something that would signal to me that he was telling the truth, that it didn’t have to be this way forever. In a way, what I really wanted, was for this to be easy, was for the change to arrive fully formed and realized, but that was rarely ever the case. 

“Surprised you’re still here,” I said crossing my arms. 

“Not as if I can leave.” He said taking a similar defensive stance. Even through the sweater he was wearing, I felt the presence of his skin, the warmth of his body. There were many things I couldn’t forget even as we appeared back in our usual place. 

“You’ve been busy then?” I asked, “Haven’t had the time to walk yourself upstairs to my room again?”

He was mad, “I hadn’t realized you wanted to see me.” 

“I assumed you’d be curious as to how I was doing.”

“You assumed wrong.”

A door shut somewhere in the house, but besides that the world was motionless. I couldn’t even see his breath, his blinks, and if I were doing so I didn’t notice or feel it. It was immovable, the circumstances, like a locked jaw, grinding teeth, we could only press further into ourselves or stay where we were.

Lucien cleared his throat, “big emotions this morning.”

My fists clenched on their own accord, “it hasn’t been easy.” 

Each word seemed abrasive compared to the silence around us. In contrast, however, a tautness softened in me where Lucien’s feelings had been. He cared, cared for what I’d felt. My body returned the sentiment in answer. I dropped my hands and softened back. For all this, however, he remained tall, as firm-faced as I was. What interior emotions, these years, had been lost to our shields?

“You could have asked for me,” he offered.

“I’ve certainly had the time to work that out.” 

His throat bobbed, something like exasperation with sorrow or maybe it was a guarded amusement because he knew that I could not ask him to come, the embarrassment of it. There was no winning. He’d laughed at me before, over any hint I’d been looking for him, but he found this self-preservation just as amusing. Even when he himself was just as guilty, he had offered nothing substantial that I myself did not give first. 

I felt it though, his hesitating, the strain of something, and he made to step forward.

“I don’t suppose Y/N has informed you of the news?” Rhys said appearing just when we might have grown not to need him. The silence of the hallway and all its tension had slipped beneath the door to his office and he must have taken that to mean we needed him. His arrival was enough for me to understand that though he’d offered me the privacy to deal with this on my own, he would still let it be known when he’d have done something differently. I don’t think he could move without at least two motives.

“No, she was so preoccupied with our warm hellos I suppose she didn’t think of it.”

I mirrored his dryness, “welcome to the Night Court.”

A surge of gratitude, relief, and grief, struck me square in the chest. I might have staggered backward, its intensity unannounced in every regard. He didn’t crumble even slightly at its weight, so I felt responsible not to give him away and remained where I stood. 

The relief made me relieved, the grief too I mourned. They were intertwined, and even if I wanted to I could never untangle them. Even if we were different, if we were mates who liked each other he had lost something I could never replace. We would both have to live with that. 

“Thank you, I know this isn’t an easy task. I appreciate the risk.”

Rhys shrugged, “you’ve risked more for less. It's time to see what we might make of this new life.”

My brother looked toward me and I reddened. Among the citizens of Velaris, we were known for our character, our real character. Beyond we were that terrible Night Court from the Hewn City. Lucien didn’t know of our dreams, of our aspirations, what we tried to do. To think that he might understand what was secretly spoken of, our hope for the new world, turned my stomach.

“I’m at your disposal,” Lucien said to Rhys though his eyes remained fixed on me.

“Good. Then you won’t mind taking my sister to the garden for fresh air and exercise.”

“Rhys,” I said but he was already walking away from us.

“Madja’s orders. After that, please, the both of you, try to settle in.” The doors to his study closed once more like he had work to do and I could practically hear him biting back laughter on the other side of the door. I’d have to ask what he thought it meant, letting me deal with my business. His only plans were probably to winnow to drinks with Amren and Morr. He had the time. When I turned back toward my mate he raised his brow.

I took a seat in one of the chairs sitting in the sun. I hissed, a tugging at my side sent a burning pain into my ribs. Lucien flinched forward but resisted. All I could do was laugh. When I showed him the way, for the first time in a long time, I noted he was uncomfortable. It amused me the way it might have before. I could tell, unlike Rhys, he wasn’t sure if he should offer me his arm or leave it and he seemed internally to be arguing with the two options. His eyes darted to my side, my elbow, and lifting his hand like a flinch he eventually let it settle between us untouched. If Lucien saw my pleasure or felt it he didn’t say.

“Can’t bear to be decent?” I said once he’d settled back from his intuitive desire. 

“I’ve never known you to want help with anything. Your ego would suffer.”

“How well you know me,” I said pressing my face up toward the sun. “Tell me what else have you picked up in your old age?” 

Lucien didn’t take the bait, “Rhys said you had to exercise.”

“Rhys is a busybody.”

“Well, he’ll soon be my High Lord.”

“And he’s already my brother,” I said, opening my eyes to meet his. We were once again at an impasse. A breeze hit the courtyard rustling the leaves and I felt it blow through my shirt with a slight chill. If it weren't for the sunlight I might have shivered. 

“Please,” Lucien said with great reluctance. Outside the city became him. It was clearer, not totally, but less obscure this idea of how to picture him in the city. I could see him moving along the Sydra, could even see him walking through the square. I tried to push him into places, the house of wind or Starfall, but those remained flimsy. For having seen him at so many parties, in so many dining rooms, those remained off-limits to me.

A spike of anxiety met me so I stood. 

We paced around the courtyard, lapping five times without another word. Neither of us looked at each other or even so much as accidentally brushed arms. When I began to lightly stretch, however, it became less simple. I tried to see the range of movement I had at first, twisting, reaching my hands, but it only took one over-estimation, one recoil, for Lucien at last to close the distance and grab my arm to steady me. 

He did not let up right away. It was no more a whisper of a touch, but he burned with embarrassment. I craned my neck, following the long expanse of his arm where heat radiated at his palm. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a remark which never came. The pain subsided, though it was not emotional pain, he seemed to feel it nonetheless. 

Just as soon as it dampened and I could breathe again Lucien said, “don’t hurt yourself.”

“What's it matter to you?”

He dropped me from his grip and stepped away. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Well aren’t you two getting cozy.” Cassian’s voice rang through the sunny space from his spying from the doorway. I moved too quick and winced again, but Lucien barely flinched—barely, but I saw. I corrected my posture but we’d already been caught, and regardless of guilt, how it looked left the Illyrian amused. 

“Not every male is as repellent to females as you,” I said. 

Cassian crossed the small distance and threw an arm around me, looking toward Lucien with a grin I knew well, the kind he liked to use before he demolished any sense of peace. 

“Has she told you she’s scared away every suitor in Velaris?”

I shrugged his arm off feigning my annoyance because something in me warmed that he was treating this situation as equally prosperous. A moment in which, by teasing me, I suspected he was attempting as he promised to welcome Lucien. He carved real space, smiled real smiles, in the direction of my mate. 

Lucien let his attention drift over to me just barely. “What don’t they like? Her stubborn attitude or her perpetual scowl?”

Admiration came down the bond. It shocked me, enough that I had no reply. Why it hadn’t occurred to me that he would do well here evaded me. I’d always thought if we’d been tolerable I’d have to leave this city, but now the other possibility seemed far more likely. He had the natural wit for it, to win them all over, even perhaps me. They didn’t need him in Autumn, didn’t want him. Here I just had to be sure they let him tease without shattering him.

“You know,” I said composing myself as Cassian bit back his laughter. “You should ask yourself why you let yourself believe that lie. Last I checked, this shirt doesn’t have holes for wings.” Cassian’s eyes drifted to my shoulder blades in confirmation. “Maybe I’m not as scary as you think. Or better, maybe you aren’t as scary as you think. You Rhys, and Azriel were all here when that male left without it.”

Cassian took it with good humor and a part of me thought, even anticipated, jealousy to dig itself out from my ribs. That's how it was supposed to be, primal and intrusive, annoying and vengeful, but not a ripple or a whisper moved within me. Instead, Lucien was smiling, more than he had been before. If I didn’t feel what he felt I might have mistaken the look for pride. 

Cassian switched the subject just as fast. “Lucien, I’ve learned you’ll be part of the Night Court now. Tell me, have you heard yet of a place called Rita’s?”

The following two days fell into routine. Lucien would find me after breakfast and we’d spend an hour in the garden, pacing and stretching. What he did after that remained a mystery. I didn’t ask and Lucien didn’t tell. Nor did he reveal his commitment or thought to the words we’d exchanged when we’d arrived. Instead, we became more like our old selves than ever, at each other's necks about everything.

“You got the okay this morning I hear.”

“Yes. Stitches come out next week.”

Lucien nodded then glanced toward my shirt. Yesterday the house was truly empty, and even then it was as if the whole structure was leaning in to listen, even the doors were at a slant.

“Back to your own clothes.”

“For a little. I like to visit the Illyrian village every so often.” He was less amused at that than when I’d joked the same with Cassian. A flicker of jealousy I hadn’t intended to unearth pulled between us, like it were meant to physically push us together. Had his words meant this, that our arrangement made those years ago would be what changed? My mouth curved up, turning away but letting him see me smile just enough to feel the intensity heighten within. At least I had some sense of control over him, this mating bond wasn’t utterly useless. I added, just to see, “If you wanted me to keep to myself you should have said so.”

“You think too highly of yourself. I’d take you to the Illyrians you love so much myself if it meant I could be rid of you.”

His door slammed with such force the whole house righted. It took all afternoon for the tightness in my chest to lessen. If he’d even show up today to take me to the garden I wasn’t sure. 

Azriel was the only one downstairs when I came to eat. He’d been busy after my conversation with Rhys, looking for information on Autumn Court. He didn’t report much to me, if anything. And he didn’t mention if his work led him to ask anything of Lucien. He was always good at that, breaking the illusion, ending the joke, that I was liked in consequence, that I was a byproduct of duty. Though he was a friend of Rhysands, he was my friend too and when we spoke he almost always picked our friendship first. 

“I can only assume everyone is handling our new guest with the utmost tact.”

“Cassian especially.”

“Has he told the story about the winter you spent at the cabin?”

“No, because he knows I have a story about him from the last summer solstice.”  

 “Care to share?” Azriel smiled 

“When the time is right.”

He laughed and stood from the table. I could see from the windows the wind pushing its way through the trees with equal mix of splendor and violence. Autumn was arriving swiftly over the mountains. It seemed almost a disservice, really, to keep Lucien from the city. This was my favorite season, long before I met him. A trick of the Cauldron, a premonition I couldn’t shake. It pained me to miss it now. Did he feel the same?

“Where’s your brother?”

“House of wind. He’s bringing something up for dinner tonight. Amren probably requested her usual.”

The Shadow Singer nodded and made his way to the door. I followed behind him to look for the wraiths who I kept finding spying on Lucien. They were quite taken with him apparently. When I felt the sting of jealousy I fought the urge to shield. He hadn’t so I wouldn’t. There was no prize now for caring the least. We had power together and over each other. What one could do the other was just as capable. 

Since last seeing him I’d scarcely even felt him down the bond. I half expected to discover he was shielding himself, but every so often curiosity or amusement sometimes even endearment would give way to fear in my chest. I didn’t want to intrude upon his adjustment, but I’d stop what it was I was doing when that happened and try to think of what he could be doing to cause such a thing. I’d try to hear him in the house. It pleased me to find so little despair, to think of him wanting to know this place more fully.

The two quiet females were talking amongst themselves in the kitchen. I informed them that the dinner we were going to be having was formal and asked if they’d help prepare. They agreed, before delivering a message with amused glances back and forth.

“Lucien said he’d meet you in the garden.” 

I would have stared longer but he felt me there, in the doorway. Not the least maybe, for the strain with which seeing him look out at Velaris from the roof had managed to put on me. The autumnal colors behind him, along the hills in peak, brightened his face. The scene was becoming of him in the late morning light, he looked handsome, more handsome than before. 

I wanted to go back. That’s what I hated, what hurt. I wanted to go back to the night we’d arrived when I was brave, when I said the things and did the things I’d never have done. 

Worst of all, I wanted it even after he turned, and delivered without care, “took you long enough.” 

I began to pace without him, ducking behind a row of bushes that had opened a few weeks ago. The blooms scattered mostly at my feet now I stepped through them. Lucien had taken the single order of Rhysand’s to be law, take me to the garden. So he would. 

He fell in step with me once I made to pass him. The wind had changed, no longer a relief across the skin it arrived with hints of chill and, if it went on long enough, left a shiver in its wake. I wasn’t dressed properly, my shirt billowing open I crossed my arms to try and retain whatever heat I had which wasn’t much.  

“Do you always write in your books?” 

He wasn’t hostile, not even a little, despite what he’d first said. That wasn’t surprising anymore, how quickly the air between two people changed, mostly I was surprised by the fact that he knew my handwriting well enough to ask after it.

“Yes.”

He hummed, but we weren’t far enough from ourselves for him to reveal why he wanted to know. Morr had said he’d spent time in the library, he must have happened upon one book with ink in its margins. 

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Folktales of Velaris.”

The last time I’d read that I hadn’t yet met him, let alone been mated. I must have been just barely 30, young. It’s hard to imagine what could be permanently inked into that book, I’d known so little then, next to nothing. Another cool breeze helped soothe the heat blooming on my face. We returned to silence, walking the garden twice before Lucien found cause to break it again.

“You like to read?”

“Yes. As do you?”

“Yes.”

Stilted conversation for someone I knew was capable of finding the precise words to be entertaining and an annoyance. I hadn’t even had to ask if he liked reading, going to the library seemed confirmation enough. Why he was asking, what it offered him, wasn’t clear. 

“Not everything has ulterior motive.”

I must have turned too fast. The question of how he’d known what I was thinking, which had been forming in my mouth, was overpowered by the sharp inhale. The autumn air pushed it back down to a point of insignificance, to the place where it no longer mattered. The startle of the pain brought with it shadows forming around us. Magic, all mine. 

Deep in my side a wave of burning pressed forward until it overwhelmed the place just below the skin. I couldn’t release it, couldn’t let the flame out, or turn into the shade and hope the darkness would smother it.

I bent forward. When my hand met the pain, another was already there. Not my own, warmer, larger. It was pulling me in, forcing me up.

“Stand up.” Lucien said and though his body held the heat of autumn under the skin his voice was cold with a familiar demand. If the pain had been less intense I’d never have listened. The tone alone was enough to give cause for a fight, but I elongated my spine, half by the force with which he pulled me into him and half with trusted intention to do as he said. My frame curved into his easily, taking his shape, like wax to flame. 

“You have to stretch,” Lucien said his mouth tucked so close to my ear his words passed through my hair and slid over the skin. His hand that I’d rested atop moved leaving my own behind, moving up my side. He applied pressure at my ribs. No cotton between his fingers and me, just skin, just his hand under my shirt. With each place he touched the pain diminished in size like he was moving it back toward the point of impact. His voice was disconnected from him, it told me to take a deep breath and I don’t know if I listened. Not at least on purpose, when I felt the air pass into my lungs. The burning vanished. 

I kept breathing, pressing our chests closer together then pulling them back apart. The pain seemed to linger nearby, like the moment we let go and moved it would come back. I was sure it would, and my fingers dug themselves deeper into Lucien’s clothes. I hadn’t even opened my eyes, couldn’t allow my consciousness to drift to the entirety of our position, all my focus was taken and I didn’t want to know how it felt to be this close. I wanted really for him to drop me before I could.

“Good girl,” he said.

I shoved out of his arms. 

He was already laughing before I could move away. The mixture of my embarrassment and his satisfaction doubled when he’d seen the blush that had formed on my face. He leaned against the railing, smiling smugly. 

All I managed to get out was, “pig.” 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever done as I said, thought it warranted a little praise,” He mused on the moments of the past, squinting his eyes like the memories we shared would appear before him and confirm his suspicions. “And I had a feeling you weren’t ever going to let go without encouragement.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I did.”

I wasn’t used to this version of him, this idea. This was not our game, our routine. He’d called me a thousand things and good had never accompanied any of them. He’d shattered everything, all that normalcy we’d found in coming up here, in being our worst selves. 

“So this is your famous charm. I’m unimpressed.” I said finally.

He laughed, his usual arrogant laugh and I wanted to latch to it. If I could I’d have thrown it over the moment like a sheet. “Lucky for me I’ve never desired your good opinion.” Yes, back to the familiar. He would not make desire from our old lives, I wouldn’t let him. He added, “from what I remember you’ve bestowed it rather foolishly in the past.”

I scoffed, “And you’re any better? How's Tamlin?”

His gaze was more piercing than it used to be. I shifted under it, squirming, with the sensation that he understood me even better now than he used to, and even before he was impressive. There was rarely ever a time when he didn’t know which male I would go after at an engagement, what kind of mood I was in, and why.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, his voice taking on that mean taunting tone he had when he wanted to get a rise at me, when he knew he’d held the right words in his mind. “How long did it take for you to break our deal? I can’t be too bad a claim if you saw fit to tell everyone we were mates.”

“25 years and I was drunk.”

He hummed, nodding along. He was enjoying himself. The circumstances didn’t matter and they never did. I could be crying and he’d still laugh, in fact, once in Winter Court he had. His gaze dipped down and then up once, the joy he’d gotten seemed to lessen with my admission. 

“Ilyrians are known to stomach unpleasantness, it's good you’ve found them.” He said pushing off the wall and standing just before me. Indifference settled into displeasure readily on him. I preferred this to everything, with such moods I could wound him like nothing. He thought he was shielding himself but I could read him just as easily if he was telling me his every thought down the bond.

“Is that all that matters to you Autumn males? That your partner is pleasant to look at?”

“I never said you weren’t pleasant to look at.”

Lucien said it like it were nothing. He even smiled like the displeasure never happened. He watched his words land and even I could admit that he had played the hand between us well. For him to admit something like that, then, now. I was envious. He’d gotten the upper hand and he’d never relinquished it, even when I thought we’d leveled out. He’d won and he knew, taking for himself one single prize, letting his eyes fall to my lips. 

I went to speak, but if there hadn’t been words before there was little chance of them appearing now. While he had never called me good, he’d also never given any suggestion that I was attractive. He avoided my appearance altogether with clear and cutting attacks.  I was always wretched, lousy, irritating, unskilled, or some other pinpointed insult that he had, for 50 years, wielded against me. Never though, ever, had he alluded to my appearance. 

“Your personality however could use some work,” He finished. 

Words returned and stumbled out of my mouth, but even with the force of snapping between us they didn’t have the desired effect. “Feel free to waste your miserable life out of my company.”

He bowed in mockery, pointing toward the door, “There's the exit.” 

I was already leaving. I passed Morr at the top of the stairs. She was walking with Azriel. Neither said anything, but they were, the pair of them, sharing twin smiles.

***

When I caught myself in the mirror I was embarrassed by my own lifelessness. Though death, in the end, had lost it still seemed to take with it souvenirs I imagined would be returned to me at a later date—some youth I had lost and could never get back. My skin seemed to drag down my face like its being there was a reluctant favor. My coloring had gone sallow, everything was limp. Even my hair seemed tired falling with great weight. I needed a proper rinse rather than the half bathing I had been allowed the week before.

I dipped below the water and closed my eyes, willing myself to feel the warmth of the tub within. I could think of no other remedy to bring it back, life reached toward warmth. It seemed to work, the longer I sat there the more real I began to feel, emptying the room-temperature water every so often and replacing it with something more scathing. 

Regardless, however, of my intention to return to myself the recurring thoughts always seemed to cycle through me with glaring direction toward Lucien. He’d bothered me before, but there was something infinitely worse about this version which seemed to be talking with a subtext I myself was unaware of or could not read the same as I had. We were different now, I’d have to learn all over again what I’d once instinctively understood. 

We used to be so good at it, understanding what the other meant, circling each other like wolves. It had been fun to do it, to wield something fatal like words and to know just the same that they’d never kill, they were actually anticipating the attack all along. For what it was worth I liked seeing him at a table, liked that it meant someone was there who could be counted on for a challenge. He’d look at me and I’d know precisely what each nod of his head meant, each gesture. We’d laugh all the while anger without violence, joy for the sake of pain. I loved hating him and I loved that he hated me, but looking back the fun of it seems to diminish in quality, vanishing almost entirely the further I looked to the past. 

All these years he found me pleasant to look at while I found him handsome and yet neither of us had ever said so. We were, perhaps, more transparent than we thought. We’d said more by omission than any other verbal demolition. Now even words were obscured by their meaning, by the direction his eyes faced when he said them. I knew nothing. Where was that universe we’d been to, where it had been seamless, easy even to slip into our sincerity? How do I get back? I didn’t want to be brave and yet with each day he didn’t return to me, I realized I would have to be. 

The wraiths combed out my hair, it was too painful to twist and reach back still. They did so with great care talking and laughing of the recent events and with each venture into the business of my mate I narrowly avoided them. I closed my eyes and dreamed of their gentleness when it had come from other people and other places. I returned endlessly to the night in that very room. When the brush got too close to my temple I recalled, against my will, the feeling of his fingers brushing the hair from my face. I rested my forehead against my knees. The two females grew quiet, talking only with each other eventually, one stringing in long thin strands of gold with ornate stars. It matched the dress. I looked like the night sky. 

Rhys had come halfway through to check when I’d be done, noting, that I was holding everyone up. When I got downstairs no one was there but him, smiling, in a suit that matched me. He had wine waiting. 

“Which is it, are you abandoning me or forcing me to spend time with you?” 

“I abandon you when it’s warranted.” 

“It was you who said you’d stay out of my business,” I said sipping the wine. Rhys’ agenda remained veiled. I don’t know what he got out of any of it, but regardless it was of little benefit.

“I said, I’d let you deal with your affairs. How am I to do that if you won’t even be in the same room as each other?”

I opened my mouth to reply but to do so incriminated me. Either we’d been together and he didn’t know about it which he’d tease me on or I’d admit he was right and therefore he had indeed needed to force us together. Worse, I’d have to pretend it didn’t bother me, that Lucien was always missing. Regardless he relieved me of having to do either. 

“How is it going with your mate.” 

“He’s even more charming up close.”

Rhys snorted. “You should have seen the glee Morr had in reporting to me of your fight in the garden.”

“No one shows any allegiance to my cause.”

“And what precisely is your cause, moping in your room? Not quite as captivating as mine.”

“And yours would be?” 

Rhys smiled and took a sip of his wine, shrugging like it were as equally unknown to him as it was me. I don’t know why I’d believed him in his office. It shouldn’t be of much shock that his letting me deal with this involved his own agenda. I could only imagine the entertainment he got in trying to parse out what was true, what he believed me to feel, or what all these years I’d told him. It didn’t matter that the time before was different and disconnected from the time now, so long as eventually what he said came true he’d feel he’d won.  

“I’m figuring it out, no thanks to you.” 

“All thanks to me. What do you think we’re all dressed up for?” 

He was even more nosy and self-important than I imagined. Forcing us all into a dinner with fine clothes just so what exactly, Lucien would have to sit next to me at dinner? “And suddenly you’ve got a keen liking for him. Weren’t you the one scolding me three days ago?”

“I’ve seen more of him than you, so there’s an argument to be made for me at least. Plus you looked worse today than you did when you arrived a week ago, it’s not hard to do the math.” 

“You don’t know what I want.”

He raised a brow at me, and I’d known then I’d been giving myself away. When he came in to see me as I was getting dressed I bet it was plain as anything the quiet of the room, one look from the wraiths.

I dropped my illusions, rubbing at my forehead. “Well, I wouldn’t even know if your guess was right, so stay out of it. You’re not helping me figure it out.”

“That would ruin our fun.” I glared at him, knowing he meant the court myself excluded, but he continued “I’ve placed a few bets and I’m interested to see if I’m right, especially tonight.”

“What bets?” 

Rhys moved toward the living room and spoke so even I could barely hear him. “Don’t let him get away with his behavior because he bats his eyes at you.”

“I can’t stand you.” 

“Good luck.” 

I went to get the last word in but when I turned, Lucien had been making his way into the foyer. Rhys ducked into the sitting room and as soon as he moved out of my sight the walls seemed to turn inward toward us.

He was still in borrowed clothes, but he was there. The hearth of the adjacent room was our only cover from curious ears. The logs shifted and cracked under the heat. It covered everything with a film of half-silence. Even his breathing, if he were, was masked by it. We were in nearly identical positions as we’d been just a few days previous, but instead of the tension pulling between us something light entered the room. I thought I heard a sigh of relief. 

“You look well,” He said stepping forward.

“I feel well,” the words left me with unintended softness, like the moment required it and on instinct, I played along. He pointed to the bottle of wine at the table and made it the rest of the way across the room.

“Is this for everyone?”

“Yes,” I extended him my glass, and in the light, I saw the imprint of my lips. I was so used to it, letting Morr or anyone finish what I could not commit to. He saw it too and as I went to pull back his hand fast, gentle, enclosed my wrist and took it from me.

“Thank you,” he said with the sincerity you have to whisper, and staring at the rim brought the mark of my lips to his own. Through the glass I watched them touch. They became indistinguishable from one another, where I had been and where he now was. A heat, not of embarrassment but some other kind I couldn’t name rose from the ground up, clouding my head. I watched it all. Even when he pulled away I kept my eyes where his lips had only just been. 

“Did you want a glass?” 

I nodded even though I didn’t. I had no words to explain something even as simple as the lack of a craving. He poured it anyway. The relief of the cool glass made it worth it and when I shifted so followed suit of everything else. You wouldn’t have even noticed that the world was off kilter had you not seen what I did, a kiss that hadn’t really happened. 

“I’ve never seen you in Night Court colors.”

“Females must honor, by dress, the court they’re visiting unless they’re married.” He’d not been to the Hewn City, not at least while I was there. He wouldn’t have realized it either, even with our years between us, it wouldn’t have mattered before. We were too busy with our disgust.

“I find it convenient,” I said sipping from my glass, “that you’re suddenly remembering your manners now that I’m pretty again.”

“You’re too smart to believe something so stupid as that.”

“What should I believe?”

He looked out the window, holding the glass up to his mouth but not drinking, not yet. “Whatever you wish as long as it’s not that.” Then he pressed his mouth to the same place he’d done before, and met my eye. A playful thread wrapped around his features and tugged. Even as he sippied I watched the indent at his mouth sharpen. Now that I'd admitted he was handsome it was as if no other word existed half the time for anything. Everything fell under its terms and yet nothing quite so specifically captured its beauty. Not at least, besides Lucien.

“You told me I couldn’t brood and you spent the greater part of the afternoon stewing. Care to share?”

Outside there was still no sign of the rest of our court. Rhys, if he was alone in that sitting room, had nothing to distract him from our conversation. Even had I wanted to admit to Lucien that I’d spent the greater part of the afternoon sitting in the bath thinking of him I couldn’t with my brother so close. 

“Not in the slightest.”

He hummed, “you think I won’t work it out?”

“I think you’re busy. You don’t need to waste time with my feelings when you have your own. And I wouldn’t even be able to tell you because I don’t remember every fleeting emotion and its cause.” 

“I do. There was some curiosity, a little regret, followed by periodic and yet endless somberness,” Lucien said groaning as if the feeling was truly endless and the weight of it had been unbearable even just in memory. 

“Next time it happens you could come and ask me.”

“Yes, next time then. I was busy today, spending my miserable life away from you.”

My small amusement could have been concealed but a breath of it caught the wine in my glass and some splashed onto my face so I was forced to wipe it away. Lucien said nothing. The bond warmed. 

 “And you?” I said finally when no taunt came. “Are you well?”

Despite how strained my chest became with my own desperation I hoped no matter how it struck, how much I wanted him to be enjoying Velaris, Lucien would still answer honestly. If he were to lie just to spare me I don’t know if I could forgive him. 

“Yes, in part.”

“Which part?” 

“The part that’s glad to see you at home and safe.”

“And the other, the one that’s not well?”

“The same as you, the piece that remains unwell.” 

Lucien’s gaze dropped to my side and beneath the skin, the cut ached like it knew he was looking. The part of him that lived within me strained with echoing ache, they recognized each other. The cut and the tether, like calling to like. I wanted to touch the pieces of him I found beneath my skin and soothe them, even if it were useless work. He’d be unwell until I wasn’t.

“If you can manage to fit it between your moments of somber,” he continued, “I was hoping you might show me Velaris.” 

“You’ve not gone and seen the city yet?” 

“No.” He said shifting on his feet a little, his eyes staring down into his glass without taking a sip. “It's yours. You should be the one to show me.”

Down the bond, something relaxed, serene, and it almost convinced me to join in on the feelings. He’d said this with a sense that there was nothing strange about it, while it seemed to me the opposite. He waited for me. He had never once waited for me. 

I wiped the sweat from my palms on my dress.“I’ll think of some places.”

“When you do, try to remember right now and not this afternoon in the garden.” 

“Why, you think I’ll take you somewhere seedy?” 

“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got a gang of Illyrians in your honor waiting around some corner for me.” 

I let out a laugh. It burst from me and I made to cover my mouth. He watched me, something brightening on his face. I don’t know if I had ever done such a thing with him, or even around him—laughed like this. The real true laughter I had at home was reserved for private moments, so as to be polite for all the rest. I shook my head, attempting to stifle it, to recover. “None care for me so much.” 

Then he did something he does often, which was easy to miss if you didn’t know it. He looked at me. Not the kind of the past, eyes narrowed, waiting to strike, but a different one I’d seen him use before. Even as I hated him I’d know the first time I saw his face take on the look of intention, that he was seeing me truly and entirely. The first time it happened was the night before the bond snapped. We’d been standing in the hall, outside our rooms. 

“Your good blood is wasted,” he said the sky just barely dark enough to sleep. I could see the way the words showed up on his face, how he’d meant it. He laughed, “I don’t know anyone who’d have you.”

“Plenty of things exist regardless of your not knowing them.”

The blankets behind me rustled with movement and the Cauldron laughed. He glanced behind me but said nothing. He could surprise me even then. Instead, he looked at me as he was in the foyer, with something so intent on seeing the whole I was sure he really was. I let him. I waited for the moment where shame, fear, or even violation crept through the world where I was standing in my pajamas with so little grace. The longer I waited the less sure I was it would arrive. 

Even without the bond, I knew his curiosity as if it were in me too. 

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Lucien,” I said without thinking too long on the words or the fact we’d never said them, they were too polite and well intended. I closed the door and watched the blankets rise and fall where Kallias lay in a beam of light that wasn’t even half night, maybe only a quarter. 

The next day, despite the cold civility of our endings we’d returned twice as short with one another. But I couldn’t forget what had happened and never did. How could you? That something like that exists and you can tell the difference. When someone is looking with the acknowledgment of your person as unique rather than what they had categorized you out to be. Whatever he discovered that night I didn’t know, but something new had taken shape in his mind and replaced what had been there before. I understood after that some looks existed as witness, and the rest as nothing at all. 

He’d done this so much over the years that I let out a sigh of relief, to at last understand him again, if only in the smallest way. Now instead of walking away between us, something tightened. I gestured toward the sitting room to divert us, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea he’d say what he saw, what he thought, but Lucien too had extended his hand.

Our glasses hit. The lip of them clinked together while my knuckles roughly scraped along his. I knew where we’d collided, where one move ended and mine began from the short warmth I got in our touch. I might not have known what had happened were it not for that small difference between us. 

Despite our collective efforts to right our drinks, they fumbled in our fingers. Two heaps of wine lay between us, splattered on the ground. Lucien was already walking down the hall toward the kitchen before I could speak, apologizing repeatedly. His empty glass abandoned on the table. 

“It's nothing,” I said following behind him. 

Behind us, Cassian, Morr, and Azriel entered with precise timing. Someone let out a low whistle and Morr yelled for no one in particular asking what had happened. They were gone though, in another room and it might as well have been another life. Lucien asked where the rags were and I existed for a single moment in his question and his alone. It was an ordinary accident, to do what we did, but it was rare too that the graces of immortality failed twice. I wanted all my attention on the mundanity of him and me cleaning. I found I could not actually pull my focus away. Where he had been leading, he waited and turned back before I replaced him. We pulled two clean rags from their place, and made down the hall, my shoulder fell with each step into the soft fabric at his arm.

“Sorry,” Lucien said, rolling up his sleeves and looking toward the sitting room. I could feel the foreign embarrassment in my chest, “sorry.”

“I do it all the time.”

I knelt and began to sop up the spill. Despite my attention, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him directly, to see him in the way one is when they’re at home, undone. I’d want it too much I knew, I’d try for a hundred more messes just to see him roll his sleeves up. I couldn’t let myself hunger anymore. I already wanted that which came with notes of despairity. Instead, as I wiped in circles on the floor I let his body periodically move into my field of vision as he cleaned the other half. The shirt tucked in on itself, exposed his forearm. You didn’t get to do this anywhere else, not really, you didn’t get to be at home. I should know this arm, this person it was attached to, I’d seen it plenty before but all the while his embarrassment was foreign, and so too his movements were unpredictable and routine. 

“I should have known to avoid the area, you talk with your hands,” he said once the floor was clear and we were back on our feet. He was smiling ever so slightly when he said it, fixing his shirt back into proper place. I couldn’t bring myself to mirror the move, to right what the minor chaos had undone. 

“It’s funny,” I said instead while his body slipped back into itself. “I used to be able to tell what you were thinking. I thought the bond, exposing it, would make everything easier, but I think I know less than I did before. I can never figure out what you mean, never know how anything will end.”

I finally allowed myself to look at him truly as the cuff of his sleeve at last dropped to cover his wrist. I felt him, his staring at me with the slightest wrinkle in his brow and also the reason for that single imperfection being there. Again, unexpected, sorrow deep-rooted but new climbed beneath my skin like a vine. He opened his mouth and I hoped it would tear the growing thing but we were interrupted again.

“Shall we?” Cassian said appearing from nothing. It was no struggle to look away, I wasn’t brave enough to face the consequences of myself. I wanted the sadness to end there in that moment, I wanted not to know that look of small unintentional demolition. 

“You’re flying with Cassian. Unfortunately Lucien is with me” Rhys said avoiding the male’s eyes. 

“Flying?” Lucien asked.

I tapped my shoulder, letting my mask fall into place on the amusement of his impending discomfort, “half Illyrian.”

“I’d take you if I could,” Morr said. “But you can’t winnow in. You could take the stairs but I suspect Amren will be waiting and she’s better with a group.” 

Lucien seemed barely to follow the thread on new information, stuck on the fact we’d be flying and that Rhys apparently was taking him. That even a High Lord couldn’t winnow himself into a place in his own court must have been strange when Beron had wielded absolute power however he could.

Standing in the streets of Velaris and hearing the current of the Sydra had the same effect as sitting in the warm bath water. There was a returning power within me. I was stronger, could feel that good humor circling around my mind as it settled in waiting to be used again. I walked more surely, following behind Cassian who looked out at the water. Just hearing it, the sounds of the city and its people enjoying their evening or the river pressing onward in its pursuit was of some comfort. I knew the world wasn’t waiting for my return and I liked it that way, that these things could be counted on regardless of the universe we found outside the door. 

The warrior turned, his frame blocked out the lights across the river. I’m sure on a battlefield, in the village, such a display might startle those who knew him only barely. He’d never intimidated me. As if he knew I’d been thinking this, he leaned down so we were eye level. 

“I won’t be easy on you.”

“You’re all talk.” 

He smiled conspiratorially. From behind I knew Rhys was watching, listening. The new sense of strength made me eager, I slid into his mind, testing for any pain, and found only a slight cramping. It was enough that I managed at least to say, it’s been a while since we’ve given them a real show. 

Cassian smiled, I’ve been thinking precisely the same. 

Before he could pull me into his arms I looked back at Lucien who was watching uneasily. 

“You’ve delivered me to the Illyrians just as you promised.”

In quick procession, I was pulled into Cassian’s arms, who held me with all the care in the world. I latched onto him before looking toward our court. Rhys began to move toward us, hand outstretched in objection.   

“Don’t—“ 

But we were airborne before the command could be heard enough to qualify as disobedience. The wind pushed through my hair and I laughed, really laughed. Now I remembered how. The lights of the houses fell like stars behind us. I twisted with little resistance, he was fast, we were already far too high. The Sydra appeared like a murky ink spill down a map. 

“Ready?” Cassian yelled over the wind. 

I held tighter in confirmation and just like that we were plummeting back toward the cobbled world. Cassian let out a loud cry, as if announcing us and our amusement. I echoed with my own. The joy seemed to pierce the night in half, making light with it. From the ground, our court managed to make themselves heard like our happiness was contagious even at a distance. With the water closing in we pulled up just in time for me to dangle one hand along the surface and skim the river with my finger. I could just tell how cold it was, not touching it enough to withdraw, but was in its proximity. We lifted again and they watched us loop, climb, fall, and twist.

 It was only when we got close enough Rhys yelled, “Get to the house of wind before I sic Amren on you.” A very real warning, and Cassian knew as much. He danced past the court once more before climbing up the altitude and slowing his pace. 

“They can’t handle that we’re more fun than them.”

“We have a shared aptitude for chaos,” Cassian agreed.

Buildings passed beneath us and a sense of peace swathed in. I surrendered myself to it. I was never sure how long those moments would last. I closed my eyes, and imagined Lucien now on his way to the house of wind, standing on the balcony in the Autumn air. Unlike him, his being here required his introduction to my real life, the true one which was hidden for many years. His home, the intimacy of his day-to-day life remained back in a court with which I would likely never again return to. 

And he was here, making his way to the house we’d had all those dinners in, seeing the streets of a city that reverberated with decades of my joy. I bet you could still hear it there, eroding the stones. I was made here. That itself was an intimacy and he was not so foolish as to miss it. I was exposed by default. The bond between him and I was a tether, but it wouldn’t surprise me if on his end it felt like water, if it felt like the Sydra.

“Thank you, for what you did the other night,” Cassian said. He, more than anyone, managed to find the words to say what had not been said. He had suddenly that look of contemplation that made him more serious than he normally was. It always followed a sense of care or duty on his part. Whatever his reason, his need to speak had yet to reveal itself. “Rhys told me what you said, about the new world. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about him, but I’m glad you forced our hand a bit. I don’t think any of that was easy.”

He didn’t have to elaborate, or say who he meant. I knew now. “Not as hard as you think. Not at least when you know the people you’re talking to.”

“That night was a disaster waiting to happen,” he shook his head. “You were being brave whether or not you will say and I wanted you to know. Plus I’m not averse to admitting when I’m wrong. Your mate is already proving to be very entertaining.” 

The small discomfort of those rare moments of total sincerity slipped away and we both let it. I was grateful for all of it even when at times the vulnerability made me itch beneath my skin. I had no reply but luckily he dropped the subject, adding only one last thought. 

“I know Rhys and Morr have cornered you but if you ever want to talk about what happened.”

“There are no words. Not yet anyway.”

Whatever qualms I had with my court, their allegiance to Rhys vs. their friendship with me, there was something irreplaceable in the world we shared between each other. No two were identical, and they arrived when I needed them. Cassian had a rare ability, I think given where he came from, to listen to someone talk without imposing his own worldview on the subject. In the right moods, he was always there without judgment, open to what I thought. To him, I was an equal, and he took me and my ideas very seriously. I would always love him for that. 

The balcony to the house of wind came into view. I could see the court there waiting. We apparently took the scenic route. I turned to him and smiled, “Rhys is gonna eat us alive.” 

As soon as we were in earshot I could hear the beginning of his reprimand. We landed softly and Cassian placed me in front of the frustrated High Lord. 

“What if you’d split your stitches? That’s dangerous even when you’re not injured.”

I passed by him and patted his shoulder. “Noted.”

I could hear his teeth grinding. “Keep it up and Madja will be removing those stitches at a 6 am training session.” 

I sneered if only to make him feel the threat was legitimate, but I doubted his making good on those comments. I walked straight to Lucien whom Morr had taken into conversation. 

“Unlike your brother, we found the show very entertaining.”

“Cassian and I should consider alternative employment, a traveling band maybe,” I said looking over my shoulder toward the male who looked for all the world like his normal self again. His smile was easy, his eyes bright. 

A hand clamped down on my other side, however, and Azriel’s voice drew everyone’s attention.“You’d need to be employed for there to be an alternative.”

I let them have it, their laugh, if only because Lucien laughed too. It was without malice and I could handle the same tired jokes for that sake. 

Any comment I had ready slipped away from importance but I said, only to keep up appearances, “I like you better gone.”

The others took their joy indoors. Flying had actually hurt my side and I let them go ahead to avoid Rhys catching me limping. I wouldn’t be fast enough to evade one of his lectures. I found the railing of the balcony and looked out over the city as their voices faded, tucked beneath a gust of wind then gone altogether. 

“Is it like this all the time where you��re from?”

I knew he was there. He’d gotten in the habit of waiting for me now twice. Whenever the Cauldron decided to pull that thread between two hearts, from that point on, I suspect, I began to know the difference from the air alone of what rooms he was and wasn’t in. 

The windows below dimmed and grew in brightness. It was the city’s pulse, it told me this place was living. I was always acutely aware of the lights, what it meant that another person was there in those houses, those rooms. At times it overwhelmed me, that within a few hundred windows lived people who, like me, had their own worries, duties, their own hearts. They were at the mercy of the same Cauldron, they wanted things and didn’t get them, and tried to understand that which could never be understood. 

Lucien pressed his hands into the cool stone railing and watched just as I watched. 

“Sometimes,” he said. I wanted to go into his memories. I could see how his mind went further than I could see or know. “The best time of year is really at the end of summer or just before. I like to sleep with the windows open then, wake to the cold.”

“Do you?”

He nodded, “I like the cold.”

“It's too bad this isn’t Winter Court.”

He huffed a laugh, “not that kind and not too much. By midday, the wind might be cool but the sunlight is warm, that's really it. I like a cold I can chase away.”

A breeze came up over the edge and I folded into myself, trying to preserve what little heat was left from flying with Cassian. Lucien turned and I followed. Any longer alone and I wasn’t sure we’d manage to make it out of dinner without being at the end of every joke.

“Do you have wings?”

I shook my head. “No. I spent plenty of time in the air though.”

“I could’ve guessed.” 

He smiled at me then. The kind of smile you give someone when you’ve first met them and it's selfish really, but all you want is for them to find you funny or charming, or anything good. We were in that place, the other place that felt like another world. We’d found our way back to something and I wanted to keep it very carefully in my hands, but I wasn’t sure of its dimensions. I was only sure I would crush it.

We passed into the house and it warmed me to my bones. I waited for the threshold to bring with it the real world waiting, but the one we’d found remained firmly in place. I couldn’t explain it, how I knew, I just understood it the way I had used to understand him. I knew the rules without having to be told, that what happened here happened only here. So I could be brave.

“You haven’t come to see me. I thought you would, after we spoke.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited but didn’t put his arm out. “I told you, I’m at your disposal.”

“You told that to Rhys.”

“I was talking to you.”

I wiped my palms again, then grabbed for the railing. We moved slowly for the pain but Lucien didn’t act as if we were doing anything out of the ordinary. You’d have thought he lived with leisure, that we’d always taken our time with each other. 

“Is it not enough for you then, to know I’ve been waiting?” 

“You haven’t asked for me.”

A cool draft reached my back, brushing around my ankle. I shivered, and within the same instant my ankle gave way and I stumbled on it down the next stair. Lucien was already there, arms open like he knew it was going to happen. We said nothing, not as I waited a moment in the warmth that seeped through his clothes, or when we began walking again, his arm a ghost around my waist for support. 

“It's not so simple.”

“What’s it like then?” 

We reached a small landing. I could hear the smattering of laughter spilling out from the dining room down the hall. Over his shoulder I spied the ornate walls, the decoration of the house. It was reminiscent, in the slightest of ways, of the Autumn house. Something over the top, something old about it. Though it was darker than night court there. Colder too. Did he have something like Velaris? Some place he could be himself?

“You don’t feel it?” I said, the way we went in and out of these places where we could and couldn’t be as we’d been. One room we’re on each other just as we always used to be and then we take the stairs and suddenly an arm is tucked beneath you in favor, from someone who’d sooner laughed if you’d admitted you were in pain. 

“Feel what?”

The universe began to recede on that point and I no longer had the courage. I thought we came here together but it wasn’t true, I was alone. Lucien stepped with me. We moved in silence. I know he felt my disappointment straining near his heart and pushing into it. I knew when he’d been overtaken by it, my own feelings grew twofold. 

At the bottom of the stairs, I forced down the feeling, and did the only thing I could think to recover the easiness and joy of the night. 

“Watch out for Amren, she bites,” I joked.

Lucien gave nothing away, his lips didn’t pull in any direction and his forehead was creaseless. His disappointment remained. When he set his eyes on me there was such an intensity I knew he wouldn’t let me get away with any of it. He never did. 

“I’ve been waiting for you too.”

Everyone was huddled together, wine in hand, already at ease. I went ahead of Lucien his disappointment in me unearthing the need to act as a shield. As we got in, however, I found only softness seemed to be waiting. Laughter, warmth, food at the table, and the turn of a few heads in our direction in greeting. You’d think we’d done it all before, a thousand times, you’d think Lucien had always been here. I felt my mate’s curiosity replace the heaviness and I let that relieve me just enough to get through dinner. There would be a time to answer his question, he’d be sure to ask again, but for now, we would eat. 

 It was Morr who acknowledged us first, and I knew from her words our absence was not totally unchecked.

“Finally.” 

There she was, the not-quiet fae. Her black hair, dark as night, turned to reveal her cutting face. Amren said nothing and approached with ease, preternatural elegance that even for a Fae looked somewhat too perfect, too serene. The fierceness, to me who knew her, managed though to soften on the edges like dawn.

“With all that blood you shed, girl, you’d have been better use coming to me.”

“And when all my blood made you sick you’d curse me in death too,” I said. Lucien stilled behind me, unsure of the danger, of what Amren was. “Still holding a grudge over the wine I spilled on you last Starfall?”

“I’m truly immortal. We do not forgive.” Her eyes darted toward Lucien who didn’t show any sort of reserve now, even as she grew more serious and the air around us shifted to accommodate her. “They said they asked for the lares.” 

At that word, we all went just as still as Amren. It was a pristine instant, broken only by the nod of my head in confirmation. Lucien, to his credit, took a step toward me, his presence unflinching, his protection instinctual. It didn’t matter that Amren had that aura to her, the kind that upon first meeting could unsettle you because there was something about her that you couldn’t place.

She turned her attention toward the male and looked up at him, “so, it was you who managed to get her back to Velaris?”

He was his usual self, indifference bordering on cold, “in part.”

“And how was that?”

I doubt Lucien wasn’t aware of how much his answer would offer. Everyone was waiting to hear what he’d say and though I said I wanted them to be nice, this would settle a dust he’d kicked up in his arrival here. He looked more fully toward me now and his brows rose. “She’s put me through worse.” 

Of all those who gathered, the last person I suspected would offer their good opinion was Amren. The small dangerous thing before me relaxed her mouth in the most mute way. She only smiled when it was her own doing, but tonight, I saw that slight uptick. If you’d asked me which was more likely, this or the world-shattering into pieces I’d have chosen the latter. 

“Why did you never mention your mate was handsome?”

I didn’t get the chance to think on the impossibility before she was talking to me again. I recovered the emissary of parties past. The usual dryness came back with that usual flat voice like it never left. 

“Because he isn’t.”

Rhys came up and clapped Lucien on the shoulder, the most I’d ever seen him do for any male I brought around, and said, “we, more than anyone, have the greatest sympathy for you.” Then he handed him a glass of wine. Lucien took a celebratory sip. He’d passed the test and Rhys was right, he fit right in.

“Is that why Cassian wished me luck?” Lucien asked. 

Morr looked between them, “luck with what?”

“He said I’d need it with her given she’s a bit of a—“

“Well I didn’t say that exactly.” Cassian interrupted.

Lucien probably recognized the look better than anyone, the face of someone unimpressed, even as he felt the entertainment I let simmer beneath the surface of my face. “Do explain then, what precisely you said.”

Though Cassian’s mouth opened and closed not one word came out. I bet I could guess what he’d said, she’s a bit of a handful. He’d know, before I’d perfected the art of sneaking males in and out, he’d found me tip toeing out the door or hiding in the cabin several times. Took years to recover any Illyrian's trust that we would not be caught together. Everyone looked on at him waiting to see how he’d dig his way out, but no remedy came to mind. The more he stuttered the further our mouths stretched with amusement. 

“Cassian can explain over dinner,” Rhysand said, sparing him. 

As the male walked up to me all smiles, arms outstretched for reconciliation, I sent my fist into his bicep. He acted like it hurt. Cassian led me away going on about how he’d only said it as a joke and because he wanted to welcome my mate. I wasn’t really interested, I was preoccupied with my brother's attention still remaining on Lucien. I couldn’t hear what Rhys said, but I could feel it. I couldn’t pretend not to notice that fullness warming between my ribs. The pair of them were smiling, they shared some sort of camaraderie. I could see it, even at a distance, he actually liked Lucien. 

Cassian pulled out my chair and I sat, the same spot I’d sat in a thousand times. I watched my brother who had the same face, the same gesture of talking as he would with any of us, but now it was directed at someone who, a week ago, he almost killed. 

I tried not to smile or eavesdrop as I let them share something, whatever it was that could develop in so short a time. Rhys had said there was a case to be made, his sudden regard. I didn’t need to know what had changed for him, not yet anyway. In that well of anxiety I had for Lucien, I felt another part empty. 

Different or the same, that was how the world functioned now. What was different and what was the same. Maybe everything had changed at the same time in the same way and therefore I couldn’t tell the difference. I could go the rest of my life uncovering what those little things are. No, these things are never so easy. 

The chair beside me moved and I turned expecting Morr, but as I looked I saw her on the other side of the table. In her place I found Lucien. He hesitated, looking around for somewhere else to sit but all the rest of the places had been taken, with Rhys falling into the chair at the head, smirking. 

He wouldn’t know, couldn’t, that all of this was out of the ordinary. We’d sat in the same spots for years. Rhys must have known I was about to reprimand him, regardless of using magic or not, because he shielded his mind and turned away from me to speak with Amren. I rubbed at my side. At the very least, however, my cousin seemed to take pity on him. I’m sure he’d have liked to be anywhere else after our conversation in the hall. 

“Have you been yet to walk along the Sydra?” 

He shook his head, sipped from his glass. I felt a tightness, almost sickly, of the casualness he had there in that spot. His every move was reminiscent of a routine he couldn’t have. He passed dishes, poured water, and spoke with Morr like an old friend we’d not seen in too long. He didn’t acknowledge me or my watching, but he rubbed at his chest where the bond must be. I forced myself to relax, to turn and speak with Azriel on my other side. 

“The moment I’m healed I think we need to go out.” 

“Is that so?” He feigned the air of not wanting to go. He didn’t even look up as he piled vegetables on one side of his plate and passed me the warm dish. I knew he was interested though, if Cassian and I as a pair could be chaotic, Azriel and I managed to be dangerous. 

I leaned in whispering, “think of all the fun we have at dawn flying home. I could wing woman you too.”

“ I don’t recall you being very effective the last time you promised that.”

“She was a real dud and what I don’t recall is you being so skeptical of me the dozen other times you left the place arm and arm with someone.”

He smiled, “2henever you’re ready to be back in Madja’s care we’ll go. 

I don’t know when that night would come around, if it were the kind of plans you make with an air of understanding that they will likely reside for a while in your dreamland. It might end up being the topic of many diners beginning with, we should, we have to, or when are we... If it did happen, however, wherever my life was at that point I knew Azriel would demand nothing of me in explanation. It would be nice, to feel for a moment I wasn’t avoiding something. And if I felt the need to say something he might impart some passing wisdom or just listen. 

Azriel leaned in closer to me, murmuring, “don’t invite Cassian though. With him and your brother around I don’t want their lack to rub off on me.”

“You two are making plans,” Cassian said pointing his fork at us. “Am I invited?” 

“Depends,” I said.

“On?” 

“If you get Rhys to come or not.” 

Upon hearing his name, he halted his conversation with Amren and looked our way, brow lifted as indication that he was prepared to hear our offer. Cassian cleared his throat with a sense of formality, “we’re in need of a proper night out.” 

“Fall is almost in full swing,” Morr added joining the cause. “We’ve barely caused a ruckus.”

“Barely is pretty generous,” Azriel said.

I knocked him with my foot and he laughed under his breath. Rhysand’s eyes scanned the room. Somewhere, you’d think, a reason not to do it was waiting and I was sure he’d find it. Our night out all together would remain a whimsical ideal. We’d bother him for several months, over too many dinners, a hundred courses, just to hear him finally say yes when none of us were around to partake in it. 

“Any thoughts Amren?”

“I certainly have energy to expel.” She said but this was always true. “Whether we go or not it shall come out.”

“Easy there. You scare more males than Y/N does,” Cassian said.

She faced off with the warrior without a blink. “With good reason.”

Rhys gave no hint as to what he would rule which usually meant no. I rolled my eyes and slumped back in my chair. He had screwed his face into such neutrality I was sure he would say we had too much work to do, that dealing with Beron was taking up all his time. 

“And you?” 

Lucien seemed just as caught out by the consideration, sitting upright having not anticipated the attention.“What about me?”

“I won’t carry dead weight. Do they have fun over in Autumn Court or are you as sad as I always believed?”

He’d never seen him as I had seen him. Hungover at breakfast, sneaking sips of wine from his cup to recover or the wickedness of his smile as he’d tower over some female and move to whisper something in her ear. Insults got wielded so easily the later the night went on. Promises to meet after hours to finish a fight were exchanged so readily. Even if he did often brood, Lucien was no stranger to the fun of other courts.

“I’ll manage,” Lucien said like he couldn’t care less, but his eyes slipped over to me and I knew Rhys had seen. After the show I’d made with Cassian and the conversation we’d had in the foyer if he thought everyone was getting together on my account, it would do us no favors.

But Rhys offered up the usual conditions of such a night, “first one to turn in has to pay the tab.” 

So, he remembered how to have fun. Rhys raised his glass in my direction and I returned the gesture. Conversations picked up, but I felt a shift in my mind. I froze. My shields has fallen. I hadn’t noticed him arrive, didn’t know what thoughts he had or hadn’t heard.

You think so poorly of me. He didn’t seem too put out by my assessment.

With good reason. 

C’mon, you used to be so much more fun!

I could say the same to you. You’re so dull these days.

Lucien spoke animatedly with Cassian. Rhys and I looked between them and without any words I knew we both were registering how dangerous the pair would be together. They’d need to meet their match eventually. My brother and I could be that. We were likely the most wretched children in all of Prythian and we were, usually, a united force. For all his worth, all his poking his nose in and needing to be High Lord, he was just as often my willing accomplice. 

We’ll have to give your mate a proper welcome.

From across the table, Rhys ate as if we weren’t plotting revenge. I smiled, and I think Cassian too should pay the price for his comments tonight. 

I could not agree more. 

It will be a night to remember I’m sure. 

I hope it is. I can’t stand to imagine you forgetting that every so often I like to return to the job of being your very mischievous older brother.

With that, I was alone in my thoughts. Rhys was right though, it was good to remember I could count on him. I’d spent how long dealing with their nosiness, I could let myself be both annoyed and endeared that they cared enough, that for some reason they saw Lucien fit enough despite all those years, to try and welcome.

I waited for the conversation to drift my way, watching the same pairs break off and reform but nothing, not even a side comment or reference was pointed in my direction. In fact, after a while, it occurred to me that no one was even looking toward this part of the table. Morr was fixed on Cassian, Rhys too, kept his careful attention on Amren, and I saw only the back of Azriel’s head. It might have meant nothing, but the more I noticed, the more I thought, the less certain I was of each coincidence. 

I clenched my jaw and looked toward my brother who, just as I met his face, reengaged with Amren. Not a shield, but just as good. He was giving me no choice. He’d revealed his plans, he had no reason to be coy, and he wanted us to work our business out. This was apparently where he best thought to do it. 

I kept my head down and ate. I would’ve been more annoyed had I felt, at my chest, the anxiety of someone who like me was searching for something to say. Lucien though did no such thing. He was just as satisfied as I was to keep to himself. They didn’t get it, the sureness we shared at one time, or how it felt now sitting tying us together. And the funny thing is, I might have had so much to say, might have pulled him in on whatever stories they were telling across the table and tried to get what we had back, the understanding I used to have. The forced circumstances only managed to obliterate what had been in my head besides the last real thing we’d said to each other.

I’ve been waiting for you too.

I’d made it clear, I know I had, that I wanted him around. He still waited. All that power we’d given one another to use and I don’t know if we were using it at all. A few passing comments, veiled acknowledgments that we were feeling the other nearly all the time. We were pretending to use that vulnerability under the guise of jokes we’d have made before all of this, but really we were doing nothing. We’ll figure things out just as we always have. But we hadn’t and we had to soon, Rhys was right.

“Madja said,” my brother began when his attempts to get us to talk proved fruitless. “That you should get out and walk for an hour each day starting tomorrow.”

I looked at him, a brow raised. He didn’t know that he didn’t have to do this anymore. I had already decided to change, regardless of the universe we found ourselves in after dinner. I could have my fun too, then, because even if he was right I’d already won. 

 “Did she? I don’t remember her saying so,” I said. “She told me privately.”

He was shameless. If Lucien didn’t notice our exile from other conversations he’d at least see this. As I expected, Rhys turned to my mate who’d stopped eating when the healer had been mentioned. 

“Lucien, you wouldn’t mind going with her would you?”

The only real noise was the creak of Lucien’s chair as he shifted back. Everyone was listening. No one offered themselves in Lucien’s place or volunteered shifts as they had when I was bedridden. I knew they wouldn’t and part of me still thought someone would come to my aid, would know somehow that I got it now.

“No I don’t mind,” he said.

“Then it’s settled!” Cassian said clapping his hands together, “maybe if she’s up to it she can tell you about the winter she spent at the cabin.”

“I think I will,” I smiled. “After I tell them about the building you smashed to rubble in Summer Court.” 

I took a sip of my wine and watched over the rim, the faces dropping around the table. Any noise that had been lingering from before vanished and an even more perfected quiet was left in the wake of my revelation. Of all the faces, Amren in particular seemed the least amused. 

“Excuse me?” Rhys said.

“Hm?” I deflected the storytelling to the male himself.

Cassian had to have been waiting for this since it happened. He continued to cut at his food, taking a bite before he sat back in his chair. The words seemed to formulate in front of him like the story itself was so complex he had to seek out the perfect way to tell it. 

He swallowed first, “It wasn’t even an important building.”

Azriel allowed himself a breathy laugh and nodded to me in approval. If ever there were a time to share it now was it.

“Why hasn’t Tarquin said anything to me?” Rhys asked.

“Y/N asked him not to.”

A betrayal for a betrayal. All eyes turned back to me. For someone who had just said he could be mischievous, Rhys found little amusement in the story and even less appreciation that I handled the situation entirely. A reprimand swished in his mouth like the first taste of wine you have before ordering the bottle. 

“You make it seem as though I asked him not to tattle on you. I stayed one extra day and we had dinner and I apologized and smoothed it over.” I said before he could yell. 

“And?”

“Cassian is, unfortunately, not allowed back to Adriata.”

“Well I am I just have to pay them back for the building, but they wanted a ridiculous price.” 

My brother seemed to deflate, “how much?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Accepting this at face value, he sighed. “Any other confessions I should consider?”

“Of what nature? I know quite a few secrets I’ve been dying to tell.” Amren asked having found the humor in it all just the same as the rest of us. Her eyes slid toward Azriel and he looked away, but the interest immediately stuck with us all. 

“Do I want to know?” Rhys said and I could tell he did. Amren wouldn’t keep anything truly bad to herself too long. 

“Azriel has been known to enjoy himself at Summer Court as well.”

“Amren,” Azriel said in warning. “I know just as much about you from our trip as you know about me.”

She grew serious and crossed her arms. “See if I care boy.” Though it was obvious she did. She sipped her wine and revealed nothing. 

To my surprise, however, a familiar taunting voice struck the room from beside me. “That wouldn’t happen to have been the trip you got locked out of Cressida’s room, nude, would it Azriel?”

In all my time of knowing Lucien, he had surprised me, both with his wretchedness and his behavior in other courts. One thing that I knew as well as I knew myself, however, was he was a good emissary. He could talk himself into any place he went, and so it should have been no surprise that he was just as amiable, but I felt so anyway. It was obvious now, between what I’d said to Rhys and then this, he fit in. Not just when the court welcomed him, but long before he’d ever known of this place to begin with.

Cassian for all the world looked like he had been told the greatest news of his life. He pressed his hands into his face and laughed tipping his head back into the air with such exertion I thought he might fall backward in his chair. Azriel didn’t seem at all phased by the revelation much less that it was Lucien who’d said it.

“Yeah and if I recall when you’d found me you were arm and arm with her mother.”

Rhys had to break then. All his anger relinquished itself the fact his court was foolish, and he loved them, especially when he was reminded just how foolish they could be. 

I didn’t get the chance to laugh though, a burning struck my side. Before the next confession could be wielded, a quick sheet of darkness fell around me and pooled beneath the table. It was just longer than a blink, and in the quiet burning realization of what had happened, there was only the sound of clinking. Overhead the chandelier swung haphazardly, something had knocked it. I clutched at my side. 

Cassian smirked. “Are you jealous Y/N?”

Lucien turned to me, a dangerous pair these two would be indeed, and smirked as if waiting for my confirmation of it. He could feel it no doubt, lashing around in his ribs trying to strike. Regardless of these perfect circumstances, what existed in the bond between us was truly unspoken. 

“Why shouldn’t she be?” Morr said before I could take the heat and as soon as I heard her voice I felt my stomach in my throat. “After she saw him all those years ago she developed quite the crush.”

“You said you’d never tell!” 

Morr smiled, she knew I had no other option than to confirm what she’d said. Not only that, but she was one of the few of us who remained unscathed by this sudden honesty hour. “I said no such thing. I promised you could tell me.”

Lucien sucked in his cheeks and suppressed the laughter in the way the rest of my court did not. I’d had a crush on him for all of one night, not even. It was shortly after Rhys became High Lord, when things were feeling normal again, but he’d wanted everyone at our first engagement just in case. We’d been informed Beron’s sons would be there, but they didn’t know which. 

“Any combination will be particularly wretched, so Cassian will be with you,” Rhys said as we walked into the garden they’d gathered us into. Tarquin was hosting, and in the heat and promise of perpetual summer, everyone was full of life, mingling. They’d strung up these lights which emitted the warmest glow, like daylight or the closest thing to it I have ever seen against a night sky. I stared at them when we walked in, as Rhys gave out the orders. They looked almost romantic to me, something like love in a bottle. He’d been standing beside Tamlin, Lucien was the first person I saw when I finally looked at the place, really looked. He was laughing.

I don’t know how long I was staring, but I could feel the look on my face. Infatuation personified, Morr had said and whenever I remembered those words together I was viscerally back in that moment, watching him laugh, not caring who he was because I knew from that first look.

“Do you like him?” Morr asked pulling me aside. 

I looked over my shoulder and saw him approach someone for a dance. There was an instant desperation, a pressure sitting in me that I had to let it out somehow.

“You won’t tell?”

It was a short-lived opinion, however. All night I stood there, my first party, and no one asked me to dance. Though I couldn’t say for certain if it was reputation, Cassian did not help remedy any nerves. 

“Who are you?” Eris had said when Cassian had slipped away to get us a drink. The night was half over but for a moment I thought it could be beginning. From context clues, it wasn’t so difficult to work out who he was either, but I didn’t care, I was just glad for the attention. I didn’t let that show. Even before Lucien, it was a dry business, talking to Autumn Court males.

“We shouldn’t be speaking.”

“Why's that?”

“I’m Night Court, we’re not exactly meant to mingle.”

It made him laugh, one of the few times I managed it, and it made me feel reckless, more confident than I should have been. “I should have guessed. Rhysand’s infamous sister.”

“Please.”

“I’m serious, I’d never feed the ego of any of you for no reason.”

“What's your reason now?”

He shrugged, “I think it’ll be funny to see that Illyrian’s face when he returns and sees who you deign to talk to.”

I turned to see if Cassian was on his way back, but he was nowhere to be found. “He won’t care.”

“Why.”

“Because I already decided I would lie if he showed up.”

Eris was handsome and I knew that as he stood there before me, his own cruelty was a distant future. I wouldn’t see him for 25 years after that night and even then it was sparse. It was Lucien after that, always Lucien. To the point that the only way I got Eris to laugh after was by doing so at his brother’s expense. 

“I’ll have to do something undeniable then.”

“Like?’

“Ask you to dance.”

I was silent. It wasn’t that I thought he was kidding, I knew he wasn’t. I didn’t know if I would say yes and if I didn’t say yes I wasn’t sure what I’d say instead. Against the warmth of the lights, he hadn’t seemed so terrible as they’d made him out to be. So I thought, apparently for too long, because someone else had gathered their opinion and was ready to share it. 

“You wouldn’t.” From behind Eris, Lucien was standing within earshot. Even for all I liked him that night, the way I had been drawn to him, I hadn’t noticed his arrival. The moment Eris looked back at me, however, I felt the diminishing sureness of my place in the world. I wanted Cassian to come back and I didn’t know when he would. “The only thing you have going for you besides your future as a High Lord is you never sully yourself, not even with her.”

His reaction was visceral, even I felt it. I was disgusting to him. Enough that just acknowledging me repulsed him. Though it was not the last insult he’d ever say to me, it was the only compliment I ever heard him make to his brother. 

Eris laughed, it was false, malicious now, and turned toward his brother. “Who would have thought, you of all people.”

The two walked off. I slipped behind a shrub and wiped at my eyes. No one else spoke to me. It was the only birthday I ever cried.

Lucien must have remembered just as much as I did of that night, because where he’d felt a kind of fondness it quickly dissolved into a wave of shame. I didn’t like to think about it, though his opinion seemed almost violent he’d never had such a reaction to me again. Late on I said it was our duty. When we met again we observed a century-long tradition of hating one another, but it was never so volatile as that first time. 

“I knew it,” Rhys said with such vindication it pulled us from the memory. I’d worked years and years, dodging their remarks with sincerity. They knew, they said, that secretly beneath all that hate and annoyance was something secretly fond. Morr would join in but I’d considered her more of an ally to me all this time. But what a coincidence, that she chose to reveal it only once Lucien had sat down at our table. 

“What did she say? Dear diary,” Cassian began writing on a phantom paper. “I met the most beautiful male tonight.”

“The little 100-year-old fae with a crush on a big bad male,” Rhys said.

My brother seemed too content having, apparently, nothing to share of his own embarrassment in all these years. He harbored all the arrogance in the world, believing he was invincible. How quickly he forgot of his sister who knew him just as well as he knew her. I could tell he’d realized just what I had ready to share. The very thing that this court had spent a century and a half trying to confirm.

“And what can be said for the High Lord who was caught fucking our tutor in the hall closet by our mother.”

More than the whole room I think really the world paused, before, at long last, everyone let out a roar of laughter. If there were more secrets to be shared no one said them.

***

After dinner we all stood around for a long time, finishing our wine and talking. All tensions faded with our individual triumphs and satisfactions and peace descended like mist over the hills. Every so often the thing in my chest with which Lucien was connected buzzed with emotions that the male did well of hiding. Flickers of undiagnosed sadness, pleasure, and even for some reason moments of endearment carved their way into my chest like I was receiving a second heart. I wasn’t sure what was strong enough to make its way to him, if he felt always my emotions as the echo of his own. 

That sound of the room took on that quality it does when you realize someone is close to announcing they’re going home. The night had worn itself down. I went to find Lucien, to pull him aside, but sometime between two big feelings, he’d gotten away. He wasn’t there. I scanned as unsuspecting as possible the areas I could see. He was nowhere, not in the hallway or down the stairs. I listened, tuning everyone out, but even then he remained lost. 

“Go,” Rhys said. 

I looked at my glass, half of it left and the thought of drinking it turned my stomach.“Are you scheming?” 

“Not this time.” He smiled holding his hand out for the cup to finish it. I downed the wine myself and let its bitter dry flavor burn. 

I wandered the hall first, the library downstairs could draw him in just as the one at home. How often he would peruse Helion’s. Or the other rooms he’d yet to see. I leaned against the railing, the banister cold compared to his body on mine as he helped me down the stairs. It was only when I stopped thinking that I understood. 

I strained at the process of taking each small step upward. It didn’t occur to me that I would need the help. After flying and the accidental use of magic each step took great effort. The bond tipped him off. After the first half of the stairs, he found me instead. He moved with an urgency he hadn’t had earlier, down to meet me with his arm outstretched. 

It had become chillier outside, cooler than when we’d arrived. Tonight, when all of us went to sleep, would he open that window and think of home? The blankets be up to his chin and the tip of his nose colder than all the rest, from an autumn tinted by winter. We’d just made it to the balcony, the fabric of my clothes snagging on the stone, when Lucien finally spoke. 

“There was a reason I was rarely at home,” he said, as if the tether between us relayed words just as well as feelings. I waited for his grief, his pain, to find its way to my chest, the memories of home, but they did not come. He had never wanted to stay, or else had never imagined it. Yet there was fondness just the same. “You though, this is where you should be.”

Doubt. It struck before I could confess as much myself. His face softened and I knew he felt what I’d revealed. It would have been fine if we’d been in the other place, the one that we didn’t mention. The rules of secrecy felt more secure. I knew he wouldn’t tell, I think I just wanted the easy thing. 

“You understand, yes?” 

“I do.”

The eventual fallacy of the place that made you, that you grow older, that other places make you over again and you can’t go back. I didn’t want to leave the way he wanted to leave, but there was a terrifying thought that had settled long before the night Lucien came. I belonged here, but I could belong somewhere else too. I was not like them even if we’d been made of the same thing. 

It was a faraway thought and I didn’t give it much power over me. I took comfort in the fact that no one could make me go, not anymore. Not Beron or marriage to some male across the continent. That power resided with me entirely. 

“I don’t know why it never occurred to me how well you’d do here.”

“Am I doing well?”

“You don’t think so?”

He was closer than when we’d first arrived tonight, his shoulder rubbing mine when he shrugged. He didn’t see it, not as I did, what was happening. Tonight was probably the first time he realized that they were accepting him. 

“They like you,” I said staring at my shoes. Lucien moved just a fraction closer, sidestepping, and I saw. I was waiting for that seam in the world to slip over us so I could say the last part, but this was the same universe, the same Lucien. “I like you here.”

He leaned against the railing, as I’d seen him do a hundred times before, though it was the first time he’d ever so casually done so with me. He looked just as cool as he always seemed. When I let out my breath, it was shaky. He knew it, he heard it. Yet even in that small turn, the opening of his body to my own I felt braver. If I wanted to I could close the distance so easily. No one was here to see it, no one was coming to interrupt.

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked for you.”

“Y/N—” he began but I stopped him. 

“It's rare, for me to apologize to you, so just take it.”

A deep breathy laugh rose from far in his chest. I was met with the warmth of his face as he smiled at me in a way he never had before. It wasn’t even familiar at a distance, from catching him slyly approaching females from across a room. I held my head in my palm, leaning toward him like we were in some corner of a party and no one else mattered. Not that anyone else did anyway, even if they were here. The whole of Velaris was at our fingertips, my family downstairs and likely soon approaching, and none of it mattered in the slightest.

“What did you mean when you said it didn’t have to be the same forever?”

“You asked me if things would be back to normal in the morning. I didn’t really have a vision of the future, I just knew I didn’t want to go back.”

“But we did.”

He nodded, “Yes. When we were together briefly it felt like real life had taken over. I tried to figure out a way to get back to the ease we’d found when you brought me here, but it wasn’t so easy. And—”

So he had known, he felt it, that place we’d go to. His acknowledgment of it forced its return. The universe manifested around us like a reward for the hard thing we’d already done by being brave without its certainties. 

“And?”

Laughter broke open the atmosphere from far below. Did all of Velaris seek out their friends and family on nights like tonight? A connection, running through the very foundation of this city, leaving us all tethered to each other by love. 

“I didn’t want to lose everything entirely either.”

That dynamic I’d found so entertaining all these years, if we woke the following morning and had reinvented our existence beside one another entirely I’m sure I’d miss it too. I didn’t even consider it, that it was something we could lose.

“I don’t know if it's in our nature to be at peace and agreeable too long with each other.”

“I’ve worked as much out.”

“What gave it away?”

“The garden.”

A breeze folded up over the city and pushed my hair over my shoulders. I shivered at its delivery. Lucien noticed with an instinct that I didn’t want to call primal. It would diminish the intention of it, that he had done so with good manners and care. He pulled me against his body and turned us away so that he blocked most of the wind.

“Do you know now, how you’d want things to be different?” I asked. 

“Mostly.”

“You’ll visit me then?”

“Yes.”

“And?” I said. We were guessing, terrified and guessing all of the time. He’d become better at knowing what I meant and I was beginning to understand him again in small ways, but we were both equally unsure. No doubt we were equally afraid.

“You’ll laugh.” His palm met my cheek. His large hand spread across my face leaving nothing but warmth. The fire in him, in his blood, made sure to chase away the cold.

“I won’t. I promise,” I said, meeting his softness with my own. “Not when you managed to spare me after you learned of my crush.”

I expected to find softness on his features but instead, he looked more stern, stoic as usual. He almost even looked confused, but he relaxed quickly and he brushed the hair from my face. I had no entry to his mind, no free reign, to know what occupied his thoughts so fully. Even if I did, however, I wouldn’t use it. So instead I waited to see if he would reveal it on his own. 

“Why should I, when I only just admitted I’d always found you beautiful.”

My heart pressed against my ribcage like Lucien had pulled at it. Always. Not now, or 50 years ago, always always always. Even when he’d said what he’d said to Eris about me, he thought it then and he thought it now. He wasn’t being kind to me because I was pretty again, because I’d always been pretty. 

“I never thought…” I began, but the words ceased to exist. I leaned my forehead into his chest like the warmth would revive my mind as the water had that afternoon to my body. 

“Because I wouldn’t let you.”

 For the first time in all my life, I felt afraid of what would happen if I looked at him the way he had at me. I wanted to hide exactly nothing, not the blush at my cheeks or the question in my brow. And it scared me, the intensity with which I wanted to see him and be seen in return because I knew that we would. It would be mutual now, in a way that had once only belonged to him. There was no undoing it if I lifted my head. So I did. 

“How much time have we wasted?” I asked, unsure of what I really meant by it entirely. Lucien thought on it, refusing to answer right away.

“Just enough I should think.”

“I don’t wish to rush.”

“With 50 years behind us…” Lucien said, his eyes looking at my lips. I let mine look at his for the first time in many years. That first night I’d seen him I noticed them. He didn’t even glance, didn’t even look in my direction or notice me until he found me with Eris. I’d felt so young, so childish, wanting to be under his gaze. Now I was no different, or entirely different. I wanted to know what they felt like, if they too were warm. 

“And what about real life?” I asked.

“What about it?”

“When things return to normal, as they will, you'll feel differently.”

“And?”

“And I will be left to want what I have never wanted before.”

Lucien smiled, there was a flicker of amusement but his brows mirrored the confusion mine had only just displayed. I knew that our real life was too close, always waiting to take us back to the places where we existed, where these things shared did not reign or govern anything.

“How do you mean?” He said.

“Every night since you came to my room I’ve held my own hands to fall asleep.”

If it weren’t for the bond I’d have felt I’d said something wrong, something that made him sad or hurt his feelings by the way his face suddenly held no emotion at all. Instead, though he let go of me, pulled away, and braced himself against the railing looking out at the city. I’d have asked why, would have acted out, had the sound of approaching laughter not reached me first. A moment later everyone was up on the terrace with us. 

“Shall we?” Cassian said with a smile as he grabbed my shoulder. This interruption was far less welcome. I couldn’t exactly say what or how Cassian knew but he seemed to be aware of just what was being interrupted. I hoped one day to return the favor. I nodded, repeating the same routine amusement I had when Lucien had stood awkwardly with Rhys outside the townhouse before Cassian lifted me into his arms and we were gone. 

At home, just as the house quieted and I had lifted the covers to my bed I heard a soft knock at the door. I almost would have thought it was the floorboards and windows settling but I checked anyway. Opening the door, the moonlight falling in sheets behind me, I saw in its glow Lucien. He had kept the stony face he’d taken on at the house of wind, hiding what down the bond I could still feel. In the faint light I saw it now, his cheeks flushed pink. In my chest too, I felt the embers of something like attraction. I would have gone to get a sweater, asked him to wait so I might cover up, had he not spoken first. 

“Give me your hand.” 

Letting go of the door forced it open more and I knew now he saw me even more clearly, but I tried not to care. I tried to remind myself what had already been revealed. I gave him my hand and he took it gently, like he was scared even of being too hard and was overcompensating by barely holding on at all. He flipped it over in his, exposing the palm, and raised it just enough so he could bow his head and meet my skin with his lips. I watched him linger, felt the warmth along the sensitive skin, and tried to memorize how his mouth felt so I could try, tonight, to recreate the touch in other places. 

“What was that for?” I said as he pulled away and let go.

“To give you a hunger I could satisfy.” 

[corrodedcoughin]

anna, i’m gonna chuck a thought at you and i want you to bear with me because it’s got the silly vibes i think u fucking adore so ✋😳🤚 bear with me!

ok but business time by flight of the conchords (if you haven’t heard it. stop. go listen RN) is exactly the type of song that eddie makes up and serenades to steve when stevie’s cooking dinner for em both- like eddie’s got one legs propped up on the couch, guitar in hand, and alright, it’s not quite adlibbed he’s sorta had the lyrics in his brain for a bit and in the beginning steve is like nodding along with the strumming up until eddie starts singing, “tonight we’re gonna make love- you know how i know? because it’s wednesday. and wednesday night is the night we usually make love,”

and steve is hiding a snort behind his hand, stirring the pot and eddie’s just still going, “then we’re in the bathroom, brushing our teeth… it’s all part of the foreplay, i love foreplay,” and doing The Most in his fuckin performance and steve is got that fond exasperation as he tries not to giggle at his boyfriends antics cos eddie is singing this just like a gooey love song despite his lyrics “then you sort out the recycling… that isn’t part of the foreplay process but it’s still very important,” and he gets as far as “i remove my clothes very very clumsily, tripping sensually over my pants” before steve is like jesus CHRIST shut up, grinning and all, and eddie pours because he doesn’t even get to the do the chorus a second time around :((

RUBY!!!! RUBY !!!!!! I !!!! FOTC!!!! YOU ARE A GODSEND!!!!!

LISTEN LISTEN THAT IS ABSOLUTELY EDWARD MUNSON TO A T!!!! I CAN SEE HIM!!! GOD business socks but also Boom?? can we just imagine for a second

'oh my god, she's so hot, she's so flipping hot she's like a curry. i want to tell her how hot she is but she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist. bitch!' and it's jut a straight narration of everything STEVE is doing PLEASE!!! Steve doing the most MUNDANE thing and Eddie is in the back like 'you like boom and i like boom' and he just gets SO INTO his own thing and ends up losing track with it all and straight up vibing and Steve just looking on like 'hey I thought this was abt me????'

WAIT BUT THIS TOO!! Eddie trying to romance Steve before they get together and trying not to be obvious about it so he comes up with this full song when he's at a party Robin throws. He's trialing the song out with corroded coffin and they KNOW they all KNOW who he's talking about but trying to play his feelings down and its 'the most beautiful girl in the room'

LIKE??? PLEASE imagine cringe fail antibiotic resistant slay bbg eddie singing this to his friends

'you're so beautiful you could be a waitress! you could be a part time model in the 60s' and it just goes on to be an imagined retelling of the most BORING night

'i can't believe that I'm sharing a kebab with the most beautiful girl i have ever seen with a kebab. why don't we leave? let's go to your house and we can feel each other up on the couch' and its SO BAD and he is just SO INTO IT and revealing things about himself like

'ooh, you're like one of those girls I've definitely been chatting to in the chat rooms wild slut angel 22 at yahoo, you're so beautiful like a tree!'

and it ends with 'oooh you're spending part of your time modeling and part of your time next to ME eh hee eh hee!!!'

and he's out of breath and closed eyes and stares at cc after like 'so, what do you guys think :D' and the cc boys are just staring at him like oh! oh um yeah! sure!

And Jeff is the only brave one of the group so looks Eddie dead in the eye and says 'it’s shit. But i think Steve would like it' And Eddie the wet fish that he is throws himself on the floor and mumbles 'he can't ever know' and Gareth just pats him on the head 'terrible song dude’

[ifbench]

PMD Eternal Shadows Chapter 2: Lost and Found

Overcast Village

???

I looked over the billboard, full with missing posters, lit by the sunlight that made its way through the clouds above. It’s depressing how small our town has gotten. I recognized Treecko, Sneasel, Morpeko, Orbeetle, Flapple, even Leon. I heard the whole Kecleon clan was looking for him. I haven’t seen Kecky at all since he disappeared. At least my own family isn’t among the missing.

One missing poster in particular caught my eye, struggling to stay attached to the billboard against the breeze, depicting a Chikorita with an autumn-red leaf. That was Saltriv! I hadn’t seen them since school ended for the year. Their family helped run the item shop whenever one of the Kecleon brothers was out, though these days they run it full-time.

I needed to do something. So many people were going missing, and so few were being found. Many of those that were found were shadowy, and had to be taken out of town to get better.

Maybe I could go look for Saltriv. They were the one up there that I knew the best. They were pretty young compared to most of the others on the billboard; if they had gone shadowy, I could probably take them on, especially with today’s fire-type V-Wave.

I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though.

I nodded to myself. It was decided, then. I’d go look for Saltriv.

I had to do this in secret. There was no way I could find two other people who would agree to making a search party with me. Aron and Rockruff were both still tired after yesterday, and Helioptile was several towns over. Even if that weren’t the case, I doubt they’d be up for a full-time commitment like that. Plus, if Dad or the police ever learned what I was doing, I’d never hear the end of it.

I headed over to the nearest deposit box to get everything I’d need, putting it all in my bag. Apple in case I get hungry, check! Max ether in case I get exhausted, check! A slumber wand to incapacitate Saltriv if they’ve gone shadowy, check! Two oran berries in case I get hurt, check! A tiny reviver seed just in case, check! Connection orb to find where Saltriv was, check! I still had my pecha scarf and looplet on in case they were in a Mystery Dungeon. I was all ready.

I walked out of the main square and off the path to a small stone slab behind the house Flapple lived in before he disappeared. I took out the connection orb and threw it down at the ground. SMASH! The connection orb shattered into tiny pieces on the ground. Hopefully no one heard that. I’ll have to ask PNS-NT later to Recycle it.

I emerged from behind the house and reentered the square. I could see all sorts of lines connecting the Pokemon around the square, some faint, some bold, some green, some orange. The connection orb was already working. I headed towards the Kecleon shop, where Mrs. Meganium and Mr. Torterra were talking to a [random]Wooper ||| Tyrogue[/random] I didn’t recognize—who soon left with a cheri berry. The pink line between the two was strong, and a blue line just as strong was behind each, both heading in the direction of the forest. Those must be the lines connecting them and Saltriv.

I waited until another customer approached the two. When they weren’t looking, I left the square and followed the blue lines towards the forest. Luckily, it wasn’t too far away.

Eventually, the lines converged, entering a gap in the treeline. Twig Woodland. A Mystery Dungeon. I’d been in one before, though never alone.

Deep breaths. In, and out. Let my tail flame grow, then die down. Burn the stress away.

I could do this. I could do this. I already helped find Patrat. I did it before. I could do it again.

Saltriv was in there somewhere, and I would find them.

As the clouds parted, letting the sun fully shine down, I entered the Mystery Dungeon.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t be the next one missing.

================

Twig Woodland Clearing  

Gen

The sound of trees swaying in the breeze reached my ears. Blades of grass pushed up against me as they were buffeted by a gale. I felt a leaf brush against my face as it was carried away by a gust of wind. My eyes opened slowly as I struggled to full awareness.

As I stood up, I noticed that things were very different than they were on that platform surrounded by a psychedelic abyss. The ground seemed to continue quite a ways away, and was uneven, unlike the perfectly flat ground of that platform. There were trees around, and through the openings in their branches, I saw a bright blue sky with clouds strewn about. Twigs were scattered everywhere.

Oddly, these trees seemed much taller than the ones near home. Probably just a different kind. I realized I was in a patch of tall grass. I needed to get out of here before I was attacked by a wild Pokemon. The ground seemed a lot closer than normal, too…

Wait a minute.

Something wasn’t right here.

I took a step forward, only to stumble and lose my balance. I waved my arms wildly as I face-planted into the ground. They felt a lot shorter than they did before, somehow. My legs felt much shorter as well, as if they were barely there at all. Actually, come to think of it, my whole body felt strange.

What had happened to me?!

I moved my arms in front of my face and barely held back a scream. They were short, furry, and ended in nubs.

Those were Oshawott arms. Just like in that reflection in that place.

What.

How did this happen. Why did this happen.

“What the heck is happening?!” I yelled towards the sky.

“Where...am I?”

I froze. I recognized that voice. That was the Chikorita that fell with me after...whatever that hand thing was shattered the platform.

I turned around towards the voice, and saw that same Chikorita as before—the same red leaf and everything. They looked much larger now, though.

They turned towards me, and asked, “Who are you?”

It was still startling to see a Pokemon actually talking, so much so that it was a few seconds before I remembered to respond. “Uh, Gen. You?”

“I’m Saltriv!” A concerned look appeared on their face. “Do you know where we are?”

“Not at all,” I responded, a bit quicker than before.

“Wonder how I got here, then…” they said as they looked around.

I sighed. I was stuck who-knows-where as an Oshawott with a talking Chikorita, with no idea what was going on, and it didn’t seem like they knew, either.

Actually, did they?

Maybe they knew something that could help me figure things out. Or, at least, let me figure out what was going on with them.

“What do you last remember?” I asked them.

Saltriv turned back towards me. “I was walking down the path to visit Burhalla. The next thing I knew, I woke up in this strange place with a weird sky, and there was this tall thing that looked just like the humans of legends! They approached me, and I asked who they were. Then...for some reason I couldn’t move anymore. The human looked up, then grabbed me and ran, just as something smashed down where we were. Then I woke up here. I think that human saved me! Or maybe it was just a dream,” they said, before pausing.

“What do you last remember?” they echoed back.

What do I say? That I was that human? They probably wouldn’t believe me. They were already partly convinced that the whole thing was a dream. I probably would be, too, if I hadn’t tested to see if it was.

Maybe they would believe me, though. Maybe, somehow, they’d believe me, even though I looked nothing like a human anymore.

I opened my mouth, about to tell Saltriv, before I heard a loud SNAP!

I jumped in surprise and heard a startled yelp from Saltriv.

What was that?! Did something find us? I had no idea how to defend myself!

Through an opening in the trees, an orange figure approached, lighting up the forest around him as he drew near. Soon, that light was recognizable as a fire on the tip of a tail. A Charmander. He wore a pink scarf around his neck and had a bag slung around his shoulder. On his wrist was some sort of strange bracelet, with a purple gemstone, and two indentations in the same shape as that gemstone.

I was about to ask who he was when Saltriv ran straight towards the Charmander. “Burhalla!”

Burhalla ran towards Saltriv and tackled them in a hug. “Saltriv! You’re ok!”

Another talking Pokemon? Could all the Pokemon here talk?! Or...was it just because I’m an Oshawott now? How did I hear Saltriv back there, then?

I decided to let the two be as I pondered what had happened.

“Where are we?”asked Saltriv.

This made no sense whatsoever. First, there was whatever that place I woke up in where I met Saltriv, and I could somehow understand them, then the entire platform got shattered by that giant hand thing, and now I was here, in—

“Twig Woodland,” Burhalla answered.

—Twig Woodland, apparently, as an Oshawott, and I had no idea why I was like this. Did that hand do this? Was it me falling into that abyss? Did my friends and family know where I was?

“Isn’t that a Mystery Dungeon? How did I get here?”

Wait, a Mystery Dungeon? What was that?

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain it all when we’re back home.”

Before I could ask what a Mystery Dungeon was, Burhalla seemed to have noticed my presence and was now facing me.

“Sorry I didn’t notice ya. Who are you?” he asked. I could faintly notice small droplets in his eyes. Were those tears? I didn’t know fire-types could cr—

“Hello? You there?” he said, waving a hand in front of my face.

“Right. Gen,” I hastily responded. I had to make sure to pay attention to him.

“How’d you get here?” he asked.

I answered, “I have no idea.” Well, besides maybe falling into that abyss, but I doubted he’d believe that.

“Figures. Where are you from? I don’t remember seeing any Oshawotts around town,” Burhalla questioned.

I froze. What do I say? My hometown? He’d be even less likely than Saltriv to believe that I was a human, since he wasn’t in that weird place. Also, apparently, humans were legends here. I didn’t really have time to process that before, but now...it’s unlikely that my hometown exists here. Even if they did believe me if I said that I was a human from another world, what if they started asking me questions about my world? I doubted they’d react well to knowing about how Pokemon like them were usually treated in my world.

“You still there?” Crap, crap, need to think of something quick!

“I don’t remember,” I blurted out. That was a complete lie, but I had to roll with it now.

The other two were visually shocked. “You don’t remember? Not at all?” Saltriv asked.

I shook my head. “Nope,” I lied through my teeth.

“What do you remember?” Burhalla asked, concern evident on his face.

“Just my name and how to do some things,” I said. I was digging myself deeper and deeper. I hoped they’d lay off the questioning soon,  then I could worry about getting back home. .

“...this is very concerning. Saltriv and I were about to head back to Overcast Village. You should come too. Maybe the mayor will be able to help!”

I began to sweat. Maybe I should just come clean now? No, then nobody here would trust me. And apparently Pokemon in this world lived in towns?

I was about to ask about Overcast Village, when Burhalla reached into his bag, seeming to be searching for something, before his expression paled. “...I forgot to bring an escape orb.”

Was that like an escape rope? Whatever it was, it seemed important, as Saltriv’s expression also paled.

Burhalla chuckled nervously. “Looks like we’ll have to go back through the dungeon. Hope you still remember your moves at least, Gen.”

This was really getting out of hand. I had no idea how to defend myself, and I had no idea what this “dungeon” entailed. I looked towards the two, and saw that they were already exiting the clearing in the same direction Burhalla entered it in. If I didn’t hurry up, I’d be all alone!

“Wait up!” I yelled after Saltriv and Burhalla, as I followed them down into the depths of the dungeon.

[avisperocustom]

Let's talk about how I see manifestation, after a year of being in the game (subject to change as I continue my journey in this thing)

babe if you're posting "if he wanted to he would" kinda content it's a symptom of you still being on them shallow waters of manifestation. We still in "high vibration" land honey we still in "waaa he treats me like an option" state baby

See babe, you're a piece of consciousness in the collective unconscious. You're in one dimension of many, the one where I'm talking to you right now from, which is the one that happens to have my bra that's nude colored instead of full of permanent black patches of dye. It's also where I didn't get into an accident, and I can walk just fine with no limp. It's also the one where I'm slightly shorter than I used to be, but taller than the dimension I hopped to for a while.

You, honey, are part of the huge web of dimensions and perspectives. You were born as a part of god, therefore you're able to create and manifest things. You're also born with the ability of travel through dimensions. When you manifest, you start moving through dimensions, one looking so similar to the other you don't truly notice, but you keep doing it over and over until when you look back you realize just how much you've actually moved from the first time you noticed. You're always moving, from when you wake up till you die. (And since I believe in reincarnation, I believe you don't stop moving at all cause you get recycled back again into whatever the hell your soul needs to go through now)

So, back to Tyler. What is he? You, as a part of God and a traveler, have met Tyler at some point in your travels. Tyler is a shadow of yourself, and at the same time another traveler.

"wait what???" You may be asking yourself. shh, im getting there

What you're seeing from Tyler, is not his traveler self. You won't ever meet that part of him. Hell, you won't even realize your OWN power on its full capacity most of the time, sweetheart. You've met one shadow he's left behind in a dimension, an imprint, a thing I jokingly call a puppet in some posts here. From the moment you met that imprint, you formed an assumption, based on said shadow. From then on, the shadow reflects what you assume about him, and about yourself, as it interacts with you.

Remember when I said you're part of a huge web of dimensions and perspectives?

Well. If you don't like the imprint you met in one dimension, there are endless others to choose from. They're not any less real than your own very hot and amazing body, they're just lacking the ability of creation, as wherever YOU, CREATOR, are, there are no other creators, just yourself. You're seeing a time lagged version of everyone around you. (And there's actual scientific proof for that last bit I just said!)

If you can fathom the idea of Tyler being nice to you, that means there's an imprint of yourself that has made contact with another imprint of Tyler, where you two are in a loving relationship. You, CREATOR, can access every single imprint you've left behind. Hell, you can access that one for a second and then access the one next to it the other.

If you can imagine it, without relying on fictional material or replaying step by step something else, you've experienced it babey!

"But I'm making it up!" Darling, the spirit is amazingly powerful. More powerful than ANYTHING. However, it's also incredibly lazy, and most of the times when imagining stuff it just puts together shit it's seen before. If you can even muster up the idea of Tyler being nice to you, your lazy ass brain has just borrowed the memory of another imprint of yourself.

It's just a matter of borrowing the memory enough times that your spirit will just roll its eyes and move to the dimension you keep insisting on accessing. To it, everything is neutral, so it doesn't really care. Your ego, the part that wakes up and develops on each iteration of your body, is the one demanding shit. Your subconscious just goes "yeah sure, whatever"

Get it?