#every time I log in here everyone seems unhappy

[spectordameron]

*gently takes your hands* Tumblr is no better than Twitter. There is a swath of negativity, holier than thou, stuck up attitude on this website just like there is on Twitter. At least on Twitter, people like that are called what they are: trolls. Do not feed the trolls. There is literally no reason to log onto this website to feed the machine of doomerism and negativity, then pretend we're better than other sites because "we touch grass." I assure you, majority of the blogs in every tag you can imagine, are not touching grass.

[journel]

sept 30 2023

i have logged into tumblr for the first time in a while, simply because i needed to verify my account since i haven't been on here in years.

today i read my only entry on here, dated in 2017.

i am now 24 years old. i learn every day.

i sit in the sun, go on long walks, obsess over sudoku, struggle to get work done, think and talk nonsense (both alone and with my lovely friends), and i study the world.

the inescapable issue of being alive, what once felt like a daily battle and a crushing reminder of an inconsequential existence, now animates and orients my life. i'm hesitant to say that quality this gave me a 'purpose', but in a sense, my desire to interrogate what life is has kept me going.

while that statement seems contradictory, it is precisely that which i am grateful for: the things that, at one point, made me want to die are what kept me alive.

yet, at the time i wrote my last entry, i was 18 years old- just 7 days into being an adult, recently graduated high school. i was reflecting (as i usually did at the time) on my existence.

prior to making that post, i had only known what i didn't want– it was the life i knew so far because i felt that was all there was.

i will fill you in on some context: i had lost friends, made new ones, and repeated that cycle over and over as i moved around 4 places. i was uncomfortable in my body, in that community, and in this world.

existence, for me, was dominated by terrible feelings and experiences, amid permeating, unsolvable questions.

i was 5 years old when i felt this for the first time. i stayed up late a lot, and one night i asked myself what 'nothingness' felt like. for a brief moment, i laid in bed and felt the weight of this; it was terrifying and liberating.

growing up religious, mostly in a small community (i'm queer, mixed-race, and a leftist, hello tumblr community), i felt uncomfortable, but i didn't know why. i was poor, my friends were usually rich.

my mom mostly raised me, and was constantly ruled by statistics on 'children raised by single mothers'- god forbid an immigrant mother on top of that! my, at one point, separated-but-still-living-together parents would fight often and intensely. my relationship with my 'sometimes' emotionally abusive father was, and remains, complicated.

my parents didn't know how i could be unhappy. i felt like i was betraying them, but it also felt like no one wanted to listen.

i did a lot of drugs, drank, and lived recklessly. somehow, i also put pressure on myself in nearly every aspect of my life, even though i felt like i didn't care about anything. still, it felt like people wanted that from me and i knew at the very least that i cared about people (just not myself). i had a jam-packed schedule and stayed up at night smoking weed and making (really sad) art.

i hurt myself a lot – i battered, kicked, squeezed, and sliced parts of myself that i hated – because i wanted to feel something else. i think i was working up the courage to get used to embracing the scary and desirable feeling of 'nothingness' again. in my head, none of the pain truly mattered because all of this would be meaningless soon.

at the risk of sounding thankless, i understood, and understand now, how this was animated by occasional joys– sharing ideas, making art, taking care of my dog, or long walks in the woods, for example, made me feel good. i chased that, but it was never adequate. it seemed like everyone else was doing better.

so, what i knew then beyond botched interpretations of theory, the feedback loop of pro-ana forums, nihilist posts, comedowns, and the complicated inner voice of depression and inadequacy was that i was a) confused, and b) going to be 'sad' forever.

to be fair, i wasn't wrong: i think i have existential depression. if you've been on tumblr much, i want to note that this is not a harmful regression via self-diagnosis. instead, i don't feel like it's something i have to fight or maintain. i accept it as a part of me.

an inkling of who i am today was present then, however it couldn't be apprehended; it stayed dormant in the back of my mind. what limited me was my inability to see it, to explore it, engender it, and live a life without fragmenting myself.

without neglecting how 18 year old me was probably a fully-formed and constituted person, i was everyone and i was no one. i continued being like this for a bit, and to be honest, i still find myself fighting that feeling today.

that 18-year-old version of me didn't know i would move to a new city in autumn, and that things, would in fact, get pretty bad. i was left to my own devices (not a good idea). today i see that as a valuable experience, and i fight the feeling that it was wasted time.

it's simultaneously educational, sad, and comical, but here's a brief list of things that happened after high school:

moved to a new city where i basically knew no one

proceeded to not meet anyone (except weirdos 2x my age)

got a job that was emotionally and physically exerting

used this alientation to my benefit

at the apex of my eating disorder, lost 30-40 lbs

took 4-5 different types of depression medications

was cold, sick, and tired 24/7

lost my closest high school friends in a dramatic and terrible way

crashed a car that didn't belong to me, lost all my money

wept often and intensely (didn't lose that)

moved back home after admitting defeat

went off my SNRIs cold turkey (bad withdrawals)

worked as a marketing coordinator (???) at a car dealership (???) in a small town (???)

after 2 years, made some of my money back

decided to apply for university

moved to another city (where i am now)

life didn't immediately get better; it would be cheating to say i woke up one day and it was amazing. i did do a lot of work to heal though, plus started a new career and met pretty great people (external validation actually helps a lot).

since i moved, i have also encountered a lot of genuinely shitty stuff, but i feel like i needed to repeat mistakes and really struggle to keep going and realize i could actually live. it was survival mode for so long.

i had a breakthrough the other day in therapy, where i realized that my eating disorder and my perfectionist mentality kind of took me out of that sedentary depression. it's contradictory, again, to say this, but its in these aspects of things, things that were literally killing me, that i could be alive.

the concoction i ended up with from these ~formative~ experiences– that is of, confusion (a lot of questions about the world, my existence, etc.) and the desire to change, to push myself, and to struggle– mix together to form a version of me that wants to live and, in being alive, upset the damage my younger self accrued.

i'm still building up the courage to say i am actually doing quite well now. it feels wrong to admit, because right now i want to hold that 18 year old version of myself and just listen to her. i do listen, she was onto something– she just didn't have the words yet. she also didn't know what 'recovery' could look like.

this world can be described as terrible, great, wicked, scary, fun, boring, and every other adjective created in it.

it is in this ambiguousness that i find a strange bit of solace.

i realize that i made the right decision sticking it out.

sometimes you hate yourself, and you wish you didn't have to fight so hard. i can admit that this is the way i feel now in my (multiplicitous) use of the word 'recovery', and say i am doing pretty good. it still feels strange to say that here.

life is messy, chaotic, complex. it can feel arbitrary and stupid, happy and sad, but that doesn't mean it has to be over.

[shufflebuff-blog]

words

Well this is a weird time. I can't tell if I'm just manic or lonely these days. Lots of people who I CAN connect with, lots of people I SHOULD connect with, and the overwhelming unfathomable depth of people I don't connect with, despite that being the primary axiom these days.

So I write to the void, not for a pen pal but because I hope my words can give me some meaning when all seems upside down.

I invite myself own in the midst of mania, in the throws of struggle and I can't help but worry about who I may become. The human imagination is a limitless font of incredible beauty, but the risks dipping your toes in too deeply might make you see the youth in every direction. It doesn't always have to be a demon that's whispering into your ear, despite that's what you want it to be.

Instead of the negative kneejerk reactionisms, I'd rather move on to being slightly more enlightened. I think I am getting there slowly, but breakups break open who you were and leaves you to collect the pieces. Sometimes you don't always get put back together the right way, sometimes some extra pieces come along with, sometimes you're missing the edges and corners. But without a constraining edge, you can reach for new potentials, new limits, and opportunities to spread beyond the tapestry of who we felt we were destined to be.

I can't help but realize that I have been deeply unhappy for many years. The passion and the void, The obligated orgasms, the disappointing despair of a long that had long slipped through our fingers. It wasn't fair to you, but I never took the time I needed to be loved. There is nothing worse than the pillars you chain yourself to as the backbone of you penance, and baby, these pinnacles are piercing the heavens. Can I tear them down?

It's finally time to start taking agency in my own life, and my goodness Im doubling down on this hard. I can't help but worry that I won't land on my feet well, but I also wonder whether it's even worth the crisis of self worth. I know what I like, I know I can actually be happy with the world I've created and explored. I can have those vast deep conversations that rub the heartstrings in harmony. I can appreciate the suspended drops of dew amidst the the grass, the crystalline dessicated husks of life after the ice.

Despite all the shit, all the things that make you check under the bed at night, all the things that make you hope tomorrow never comes, I want to cut through my blackness, your darkness everyone's deep seated doubt. I want to hold your hand. And your hand (everyone gets a hand!). We're gonna step forward, not stand stationary, to experience this goddamn beautiful existence.

Take a look at the leaves and marvel at their immaculate perfection. Listen to the squabbled calls of the starlings, chirping and cawing a song from far away, made uniquely here. The log of a mighty oak, rotted and rooted, and even in its passing, life persists amidst it's decayed core, flourishing in uncountable denizens thankful for the shelter.

These chains of inadequacy, the tethers of doubt, this grip of a paralytic time will be shed, are being shed. Despite all this, I will rise and grow, even if it must be as an ephemeral amidst the concrete jungle. I will do good, we will do great, everyone will inspire and move

For if life has no meaning, that meaning is for us to define. The ties that bind and the joy that shines will carry us to the next season in this cycles of rebirth and decay. And in this next cycle, let's forge those chains, not that keep us tied down, but rather, tied together.

I miss this community, I miss every community left to rot, especially due not to our own actions. But rather the actions around us. Reach out. Find someone to talk to and tell them everything. It's the only way to get started in this next cycle. Much love from the Crunchy Granola Grandpa (TM).

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (2)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(a/n: a handful of people seemed to like this story so here’s part two! same as with the first chapter, if this one gets some interest then i’ll do part 3.)

~~~~~~~~~

Like every night of sleep here you woke up after what felt like no time at all. But at least you felt rested instead of tired still. Either way, it was time to get up and have some food before fixing up this village. Which was in dire need of it from what you saw the day before.

After eating some bread you got to work scoping out the village, jotting down in a book (with a damn QUILL) what problems needed to be fixed first and which could come later. Once that was done you started evening out the land so it wasn’t one hill after another with a ton of dark spots. 

Figuring out how to just make blocks and items disappear was weird. And seeing it happen in real life time was even weirder. You just put your hand on a block or anything not alive and with a twitch of your fingers the item just… ceased to be. All you got was a quick breaking sound followed by a particle effect that lasted a half a second, then nothing. 

You got used to it. You’d have to, that’s just what humans do. Adapt.

“Hmm.”

You’d been so focused on terraforming that you’d gotten a little spooked when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. After turning around you saw some villagers watching you. You blinked and after a couple seconds of silence you said,

“Hello.”

They just watched you and gave murmurs that didn’t sound like anything negative, and you didn’t wanna make things awkward so you just went back to doing what you were before. You chalked it up to them being curious about the new person in their village changing stuff. So you gave them a smile before getting back to work. 

They stayed and watched you for a bit longer before one by one leaving to do whatever it was they’d been doing before coming to scope out what you were up to.  You figured they were just checking to see if you were dangerous or not. Which was understandable so you paid them little mind.

You got lost in the zone after that, just working diligently to smooth out the land and fill in parts of the river so it wasn’t bisecting the village and making it hard to get from one side to the other. Hours passed without you realizing, you didn’t have a hunger bar so no growling stomach to snap you back into focus either.

In the back of your mind you noticed the sun had set because you had to pull out some torches to make seeing easier. But aside from that you were oblivious to the world around you. At least you had been until the sound of pained grunts made you look up from what you were doing for the first time in nearly 10 solid hours.

Your eyes widened when you saw a villager cornered between some hay bales and the side of a house, getting attacked by a zombie. Like in the game his whole body sorta flashed a red tint to show he was taking damage. You didn’t even really think before you reacted, you just saw someone getting hurt so you yelled loudly,

“HEY!”

To your surprise the zombie halted and turned to look at you. But then seemed to disregard you and started to turn back to its violent task, intent to ignore your call and you felt just enough outrage to start rushing over, yelling at the undead as you did. This caught both zombie and villager’s attention. 

The villager edged back as you came over and started smacking the zombie back, making him grunt and stumble slowly backwards. After you dealt him a couple hearts damage he turned and shuffled away from you both. With you hurling colorful commentary at him as he slowly feld. Once he was gone you turned to the blinking villager and put your hands on your hips and scolded him,

“What are you doing?? It’s night time! Get inside and go to bed!”

The villager looked alarmed as he rushed to hop up the short steps to the house he’d previously been wedged against, hurrying inside and slamming the door closed behind him. You sighed, a little annoyed with how hard your heart was beating from the adrenaline of having to essentially break up an attack. 

With one last huff you turned and headed back to your previous task. But half way there you stopped and glanced around the village before sighing again and deciding it wouldn’t hurt to check to make sure all the other villagers were safe inside right now. 

This would become a routine for you, making sure the villagers were safe indoors after sunset.

-0-

Days turned into weeks and before you knew it you’d terraformed the land the village was on into a much more manageable and easy to navigate space. You’d even started upgrading the villager’s houses and stuff. You did this mostly because all their houses were like 3x3 inside and looked beyond cramped. 

Also you disliked cobblestone when used in the construction of Minecraft houses. It just looked ugly in your opinion and stone looks way better. So you used that and different colored terracotta and pretty lamps instead of plain torches in some spots. It all gave the village a more cozy vibe you think. But either way your construction drew the villagers’ attention once more.

The villager whose house you started with hadn’t sounded happy when you built up and began to break the roof. He’d grunted and walked around watching you but stepped back when you called down and told him you were fixing the house and making it stronger and bigger for him. He hadn’t seemed fully convinced but he didn’t sound as upset so you continued.

It was when you were putting on the roof that you discovered that you didn’t take fall damage…

You’d stepped back to put the top point of the roof in place and miscalculated how much roof was left to stand on behind you and ended up slipping off. You barely had time to register what was happening, much less scream, before you were just… standing on the ground. You looked up and saw the unfinished underside of the roof’s edge…. a good 15 feet up in the air above you…

You looked down and mentally checked yourself over and you were fine? Not a scratch or ache anywhere in your legs. Which should be the bare minimum someone should have after falling off of a nearly 2 story roof. But you were perfectly okay, and honestly… sorta curious. And at this point you were more curious than cautious so you actually went back to the edge of the roof and just.. jumped off. You were incredibly lucky the first safe fall hadn’t been a fluke..

You landed nice and soft again this time. Only now you were able to watch what happened as you fell since you were looking down and not up (or having your brain lag in fear). You fell normally at first but once you got about 3 feet from the ground you slowed before landing about as hard as if you’d taken one step downward. The wind rushed past you and fluttered your clothes but aside from that you were unaffected by the high fall.

“Well…. I suppose that’s one less thing to worry about?” you sort of stated with a questioning tone because honestly you’re just trying to roll with the punches at this point.

-0-

You noticed there were only TWO profession blocks in the whole village, a farmer compositor and the weaponsmith’s grindstone. Which wasn’t great village wise you were sure. So you started to just… add professions to pre-existing houses. Like one house you converted into a two story with a balcony and added a library and lectern to it before bringing a villager over and showing them. 

Honestly you weren’t totally sure they would be interested but to your delight their clothes changed after they were surrounded by some green sparkles, signaling they’d taken up the role of ‘Librarian’! You clapped happily and said this was great, to which the villager responded with a happy sound. You left them to their studies and went to add more job site blocks!

-0-

You’re not sure how much time passed since you’d found this village. But you can say it definitely looked different these days, in a good way. You’d renovated (or outright remodeled) all the homes and now each villager had a job. Well, except for one who, for whatever reason, didn’t want any of the jobs. You’d tried showing him each option and he just gave unhappy grunts for each one. 

Finally you’d asked if he wanted a job and he gave a negative ‘hrm’. So you’d figured it was his choice at the end of the day so you shrugged and got rid of the career blocks and told him that was okay. You told him his job could be to Not have a job! And he seemed perfectly content with that so you just left his home a regular one and went about your day. So really, a happy ending for everyone.

And once the village was all set looking nice and prosperous you finally stopped and realized… you’d never made yourself a house? Though to be fair you’d sort of hyper focused on building up the village and all the villager’s professional skills so you’d not had much time to think about yourself. And now that you think about it.. you’re not sure when the last time you ate or slept was.. Like, at all! Which would be concerning if you were starving or about to pass out but you mostly felt normal? You could eat or go for a nap but you could also just.. not? And you’d be okay you think.

“This is all super weird.. I need to go to sleep I think…” you sort of mumbled to yourself.

You looked around and noted the time of day, which meant no sleep yet. Then you surveyed the large village and noticed a nice hill one of the four main crossroad paths in the village was leading towards. It was too far away for any more villager houses so you’d left it alone in your building spree. But now that you were walking around it you saw it would be a great spot for a place of your own! All you had to do was remove a couple trees, widen the top layer of dirt and move the path a little to the left and you’d be golden.

But you were pretty much sick of looking at oak logs, grey stone bricks, and terracotta so you decided to forgo using them in whatever design you settled on for your house. Instead you open your ‘expanded’ inventory of all the building blocks and began looking through them idly, searching for something nice looking that wasn’t too bland or contrary too flashy. Like sure a diamond block house SOUNDS cool and also very pretty but actually making a house out of diamond blocks seems like it’s just asking for trouble.

You couldn’t help the chuckle you let out at the thought of someone actually building a house of diamond then going mining or whatever and coming back to their whole house being gone save for their bed. But you pushed those silly thoughts away and finally ended up choosing some quartz stone for now. It was a good looking stone, nice and smooth. As you looked through the other blocks you thought about what your house should look like. You didn’t want to build any more of the standard villager houses at this point, you were sorta burnt out on that. 

Vaguely you recalled a handful of house and building tutorials you’d watched on youtube. But honestly it's been such a long time since you watched them that you really only remembered the final products. Although you reason that that shouldn’t stop you from trying anyways! Because what’s the worst that will happen? It’ll look ugly? Then you can just take it down and try try again! You’d start building slow and see what you liked and what looked cool. 

So with that decided you grabbed one of the quartz blocks and some stairs to match then got to work on your new house.

@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic​

[joshstambourine]

What Friends Do pt. 1

Warning: Cursing

Word count: 2854

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

“And that looks like time.” Danny sighs, eyes having glanced from the clock to the sound board that Josh and Jake were still fiddling with. “Let’s pack it up.” He tells the room with folded arms.

Josh began to shake his head, fingers pushing through his curls. “Am I gonna have to re-record that again?” He inquires looking at Jake with an annoyance in his eyes, seeming to have ignored Danny. Josh could really get into the zone when it came to his own portion in a song, nitpicking even the smallest thing he did wrong; this perfectionism of course came from a good place, Josh just wanted everything to be as he envisioned it.

Jake rubbed his chin, “I’m not sure… I don't know if it's you or maybe if Danny just started a touch too early there.” He mutters, “Maybe if we move this back a little?” He lightly asks, starting to fiddle with a few of the slides.

Sam chimed in as he stood up, “I think Josh will have to re-record it, I think it's just the inflection he used.” He simply points out, patting Jake on the back, “Anyways, we do actually have to leave on time today, guys…” Sam reminds them as he throws his jacket on, knowing that his brothers would stay hours over time if no one was behind them for recording.

“Oh shit… yeah I forgot that they have someone coming in today.” Jake muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll leave it for now. Maybe we’ll see if we can re-record that line again when we come in next.” He shrugs, it was frustrating but unfortunately all part of the job. Revisions were almost always going to need to be made, a track rarely came together on the first few tries of mixing. 

Josh lays his head back over the back of his chair, letting out a loud sigh, “God I just want this one to be done.” He groans loudly, his hand rubbing his eyes briefly before moving to get to his feet. “I feel like we’ve been stuck on it forever.”

Danny slipped his hands into his pockets starting towards the door, “I honestly think it’s fine, I don’t know if we really need to change it.” He admits, “I think you’ve just listened to it so much you’re getting in your own head about it.” As any artist could, when reading, staring, or in this case listening to something you’ve made for a long time you’ll always be on the lookout for something to correct… even if it's fine to begin with.

Josh shakes his head, “No we gotta change it.” He mutters, tucking his phone into his back pocket, “Sam’s right, it’s the inflection... it just doesn’t feel right there.” Josh simply admitted, unhappy that he would have to record this second yet again, but it had to be done.

Jake nodded as he began to put things back into their places, and grab their things they needed to bring with them. “We’ll fix it.” He simply sighs,

Josh had begun toward the door still shaking his head in disappointment, “God I just wish we didn’t have to fuck around with it more.”

Sam held the door open as the rest of the guys shuffled out of the room, “Just wait Josh we’ll have to screw around with the next one a lot more.” He informs with an exasperated laugh, knowing just how much of a mess the original takes were. The track was bad enough that they continuously pushed off working on it, not ready to take on the head ache quite yet. 

“Don’t!” Josh sternly says, “I really don't want to even think about that one yet.” He laughs weakly, a slight pain shown in his eyes just from the mention of the track. Josh’s fingers pulled back his curls loosely once again as he and the others stepped out of the room.

“I better go and talk to Mark to make sure we’re still booked to come in Wednesday.” Jake tells the others, as they had begun down the hallway. 

Mark was a partial owner of the studio and was also in charge of bookings, it became a ritual to make sure things hadn’t changed or been moved around for their next session. The others nodded, seeming to have expected as much, making their way to the office area of the building. They didn’t have to look for long as Mark, an older gentleman with a cleanly trimmed greying beard and a rather laid back style of dress, was standing in the main area chatting with his secretary.

“Uh, tell him I’ll call him in an hour, I have to head down to studio three and check and make sure things are running smoothly.” Mark says, before looking to the group of men and giving a warm smile. “Ah, I’ll be back in a little bit Angela, I gotta chat with these fellas.” He says respectfully. The woman simply nodded and returned to her desk, after giving the boys a friendly smile.

“Hello gentlemen!” Mark happily called, as he began over to them offering a handshake to each of them. “How are things going? Getting things figured out?”

Sam was one of the first to take the hand shake, “Not yet, this guy can’t quite get his bit right.” He laughed with a head nod to Josh,

Josh shook his head rather aggressively, “I dunno what it is man, I’ve tried it a million times and it just isn't fitting.”

Mark nods seeming to understand, “Eh, you guys will get it soon. You always do.” He muses, “I assume you guys need to be booked back in?”

Jake nods, “Yeah we’re supposed to be in on Wednesday, does that still work?” He asks,

Mark seems to think about it, “Hm… I’m not sure. I’d have to check the log,” he mutters, honestly not quite sure if he remembered to book them in the last time with things being so hectic. “Actually if you guys have a minute I’ve gotta head down to studio three anyways, I can check the log while I’m there for ya?”

Everyone seems to agree, they begin back down the hallways again. “Whose recording in there right now?” Josh asks curiously, knowing that they had recently signed a few more artists on at the studio.

“Oh yeah, is it that new guy? Uh… Kenneth?” Danny inquired, “He showed us a bit of what he was working on --- really talented guy.” He continued, Jake nodded in agreement knowing that Kenneth was also an excellent guitar player.

Mark quickly shook his head, “Nope, someone new, think she’s only been here a couple weeks now, she’s been working on her first EP.” Mark explains, turning another corner before stopping at the said studio room. 

Mark gives a small knock as he led the group into the room, as soon as they stepped in they could see a man sitting at the sound board with a headset on, he held a button, turning on the overhead mic for the studio room, “And you’re good to start again in three, two--” He lightly pointed toward the glass ahead of him, a cue to tell the artist to begin whatever section they were at. 

It was surprising, but the voice coming in overhead felt all too familiar to Josh. His brows furrowing as he looked to Jake, lightly pointing up as if to ask if he recognized it at all. The woman singing had an absolutely gorgeous voice, one anyone would envy upon hearing it. It was almost hypnotizing just how beautiful it was.

Mark smiled in a proud way as he looked into the studio room, “Clearly things are going smoothly in here.” He says to the man at the soundboard, the man nodded in agreement.

“You were right, she’s a natural.” He says with a smile, clearly making his job a lot easier.

The rest of the group carefully stepped into the room more, trying to peek into the studio room. As soon as Josh was able to see through the glass his eyes began to narrow; Jake too had a strong reaction as he looked wide eyed through the glass, he could only let out a small laugh in disbelief.

Mark waited a couple more seconds until the woman had finished the line to wave her to come out of the studio room. It only took a moment for the door to open and reveal a beautiful young woman, she was dressed in a business-like top with loose flowing pants. She didn’t seem to hold as much of a strong reaction to seeing Josh or Jake, just maintaining an almost cocky grin. 

Mark pointed to her from across the room, he beginning to look through the log book, “Boys this is---”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Josh says, eyes still narrowed.

The woman’s eyes were slightly hooded, adding to the air of cockiness she had, “It’s good to see you again, Kiszka.” (Y/N) cooed, in a slightly condescending tone. She clearly knew that her presence would get this kind of reaction from him. “Been a long time~” She continues.

“Oh?” Mark says with furrowed brows, “You two know each other?” He asks lightly,

Sam couldn’t help but start laughing, "They went to high school together.” he says with a clearly amused smile. 

(Y/N) clearly had changed a fair amount since they were in high school, as most people tend to do, but one very prominent thing that Jake could see was that she was much thinner than he remembered… but just as beautiful. Josh and (Y/N) were in many of the same classes during high school, and in every single one they shared they found something to be rivals over. Though they often bickered and called each other names they were really good friends and had been all throughout their time together.

“I wasn’t aware they accepted sirens at this label.” Josh says with a serious expression,

“Why wouldn’t they? They accepted a hobbit.” (Y/N) responds calmly, this making Josh smile rather widely and roll his eyes.

“It’s been too long, (Y/N).” He coos, moving to wrap an arm around her in a friendly way. 

(Y/N) returned the small hug as she glanced at the others, “It definitely has!” She softly responds, “Man, Sam you’ve certainly changed since I saw you last!” She quickly says after having pulled back from the hug. (Y/N) not long after graduation had moved away to go to college, which meant the last time she had seen Sam he would have been fifteen. 

Sam laughed a little, “Yeah… puberty does pretty wild things.” He mused, (Y/N) laughed at the response as she came to give him a small hug as well. It was strange but as soon as she came close Sam recognized her smell, it immediately brought back little memories. (Y/N) hung out at the Kiszka home rather regularly when she was still in Frankenmuth, Sam could clearly remember her helping him with his homework, playing card games with him and his brothers, and just her singing along to the music his parents would have playing in the home all the time.

(Y/N) looked to Danny and smiled politely, to which she soon offered him a hand to shake, “I don’t think we ever met. Danny right?” She inquires.

Danny smiled as he gently took her hand, giving it a small shake. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” He tells her in a warm tone of voice.

“The pleasure is mine!” (Y/N) hums, she finally looks at Jake in a gentle way. “You can’t escape it!” She tells him as she simply opens her arms for one last hug, Jake smiles a touch as he moves to hug her back. “Good to see you Jake.” She utters lightly to him. Like Sam, her smell brought back memories, some good… and some bad. Unfortunately it also brought up certain feelings, feelings that he was certain he buried in high school. 

“It’s good to see you too, (Y/N). You look…” Jake starts, seeming a little unsure how to finish the sentence, “...well?” He weakly finishes, with a crooked smile.

(Y/N) pulls back with a warm look in her eyes, “I would have accepted anything except fatter.” She muses lightly, seemingly able to tell that he had struggled to find a way to end the sentence. “Well from you at least.” She continued glancing back over at Josh in a knowing way,

“Hey, you know our mom taught us better than to make fun of a woman's weight!” Josh responds, before grinning, “Which is why it's perfectly fine, seeing as you aren’t a woman at all; rather you are nothing more than a she-devil!” Josh says pointing in something of an accusatory way.

(Y/N) snickered a little, suddenly remembering just how much she missed his antics. “Sounds sexy~” She hums, as she pushes her hand through her hair lightly, “Anyways! I should get back to it! But um… hey leave your numbers behind if you want. I’d love to get together and hang out again sometime. Catch up a bit?” (Y/N) said in a sure way.

Even Josh could tell that since her time away (Y/N) had become far more confident, it showed in the way she held herself and how her eyes looked over everyone. This fact made Josh smile a little, ‘Good for her.’ He thinks lightly to himself, knowing how much she had struggled with her self-confidence when they were young. “Can do!” He tells her, “I’ll make sure they use as much auto-tune as they can to keep your voice sounding so top notch.”  He continues with a thumbs up as she opens the door leading back to the studio.

(Y/N) just shakes her head with a smile, “See you guys!” She waved lightly.

Jake lightly lifted his hand to wave back but the door was already shutting behind her. Mark soon was at his side, “Well that certainly worked out nicely! I guess it is a small world.” He mused, “Anyways, you guys are booked in for Wednesday, the time is a little later than usual though, hopefully that's alright.”

Jake wasn’t really paying attention, he in the back of his mind was still pushing back the feelings he had done so well locking away. Josh chimed in on his twins behalf, “Yeah that's fine.” Josh tells him, “You got a pen? I’m gonna do as that harlot asks so she doesn’t burn my house down later.” 

Mark nods, handing one over as he walks back to the door. “I’ll see you boys later I’ve gotta check on a few more things still.” He says as he waved and exited swiftly.

Josh had already begun to scribble his number onto a napkin that had been sitting on one of the side tables in the room. As he finished he held up the pen to his brothers, though Danny took it before either of the other two could. “Hey now, what are you doing? She wanted our numbers?!” Sam laughed,  “She has no idea who you are.”

Danny simply raised his brows, “Perhaps… mine was the only number she actually wanted.” He says as he raised his brow in a teasing way, Sam knew full well that Danny was only giving his number as a friendly gesture. Sam quickly took the pen from him not long after.

Jake stayed watching as she returned to the mic, returning her headset to its place on her head, not really noticing as Josh came and wrapped an arm over his brother's shoulder, “Definitely still pretty, huh?” Josh mused quietly. Josh had always known that Jake had a crush on (Y/N), and felt it was his job to tease him as much as he could about it.

Jake quickly looked to Josh with furrowed brows and a small smile, “Yeah I guess so.” He lightly laughs, seeming surprised by the question.

“I guess so?” Josh asked quizzically, “I was expecting a resounding yes from you.” He mutters, giving him a small squeeze, as he pretends to look saddened by his answer. 

Jake lightly shrugged his arm off, “What can I say? Maybe she isn’t my type.” Jake says quietly, before going to take the pen from Sam. He considered not giving her his number, though it was brief as Jake didn’t want to make it seem like she had offended him or anything. With a small sigh, Jake wrote out his number and placed the napkin back on the table.

“Hey let her know where it is, would ya?” Josh asks the man on the soundboard who simply nodded.

With that the boys began to exit the room, Jake was the last to leave, he wanted to take one more look at her, taking this brief moment to give a small sad smile. ‘...I missed you.’ Jake thinks, before leaving the room.

[tact-and-impulse]

@shepherds-of-haven, thanks for the fun prompts! I’ll be collecting my fics on AO3 as well.

encounter

She really doesn’t belong here.

Her fingers nervously run over the extra card in her pocket, as she scans the undulating crowd for telltale ashen hair and displeased features. It’s difficult, with the rhythmically flashing lights overhead. She’s tried calling, but with the heavy bass tingling in her jaw, it’s no wonder that Prihine hasn’t picked up. What her roommate could be doing in this downtown club, she has no idea, but she also doesn’t know the other girl that well. Prihine is from a wealthy Norm family, she never cleans up after herself, and from her frequent complaints, she loathes that she’s living in an ancient and cramped freshman dorm with a scholarship student who never goes to parties. But if something unsavory has happened to her, that would be awful.

So, she renews her grip on Prihine’s student ID and heads further into the building. She keeps to the walls, which are speckled with colorful paint and feel slightly sticky. But with her back covered, it’s safer this way. At first. Someone is shoved out of the crush, their solid back colliding into her, and she instinctively freezes. The pressure is brief, but she doesn’t wait to hear an apology, before she’s scrambling for the first exit sign in sight. She hurtles into a side street, ignoring the protests of a draft, and turns the nearest corner before collapsing.

The night air is cold, and she inhales lungfuls, trying to calm down. Trying not to cry. She has to find Prihine soon, and then, she can go back to campus. Where her classes are. Where the Mage clubs are filled with people who all know each other from Capra, while she was homeschooled. Where the Hunter organizations talk around her, forgetting she can understand their conversations. She hasn’t felt truly alone in years, but right now-

She isn’t. There’s someone here. She lifts her head and at the end of the alley, only a few paces away, she can make out the silhouette of a Hunter. White hair, gray eyes, a couple of piercings glinting in one ear, tattoos running up and down his arms. He’s crouched and balanced on his heels, an unlit stick of charch between his fingers, as he stares at her. 

“You okay?” His voice is low and placid, like he’s just woken up. 

“I...I just need a minute. I’m not good with crowds in tight spaces.”

“Yeah, I hate it when people breathe on me.”

She vigorously nods in agreement, before realizing. “Then, why are you here?”

“Band has a gig tonight. What about you?”

“I’m looking for my roommate. She forgot her ID, she can’t get back to our dorm without it.”

He gives a skeptical look, tucking the cigarette behind his unpierced ear for safekeeping. “Are you sure she’s in this club?”

While she answers, she takes out her phone. “She hasn’t returned my texts or calls, but she has Instagram. One of her cousins is famous on there, I think, and my roommate’s competitive, so she posts a lot. It looks like she was here in her last one...oh.” She frowns at the website, blocked entirely by a notification. She never did download the app, only searching for clues via Prihine’s frequently used social media, and now she needs an account to continue viewing.

He stifles a laugh, but his expression is only mildly amused as he extends his open palm. “Can I log in and try?”

“Sure. Thank you.” She draws closer to him, passing her device over, and his hand envelops it entirely. His thumbs are almost comically oversized as he types.

“Haven freshman?”

“Yes. Are you an upperclassman?”

“I dropped out a couple years ago. I’m across the street, at the culinary school. Is this the post you mentioned?” He slants the image towards her and she recognizes Prihine’s selfie, taken while she was waiting in line.

“Ah, that’s it! Have you seen her?”

“No, but one of my friends might have. He helps with the band’s publicity, so he’s around. Mind if I ask him?”

“Please, you’d be really helpful. Thank you, um...” 

“Halek.” He supplies, as he dials another guy named Riel, judging by the brief greeting when the call goes through. 

The conversation is short, and she notices the roommate must be from Leore, but she focuses on locating Prihine for the time being, only speaking to provide information and her own name. Riel doesn’t remember seeing the other girl, but he’ll check with security and will call back when they find her. The line dies, and with her phone back in her hands, she hesitates.

Fortunately, Halek pats the adjacent pavement. “Feel free to wait with me. Band’s not on again for another hour, so I’m not leaving.”

Relief sweeps over her, and she sits down, inquiring. “What do you play?”

“None of the others can agree on a genre, but I’m on drums. We perform around town, sometimes on campus if you’ve heard us before.”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” She reflexively apologizes. “I don’t get out much.” Certainly, nowhere other than lecture auditoriums and the dining halls.

“What’s your major?”

“Biology, I’m pre-med.”

“Ah, that explains it. You’d get along with my twin brother, he’s currently applying and I don’t envy him. Everyone in our family’s invested in his acceptance, since somebody needs to live up to their standards. He’s not at Haven, but I can give you his number if you have questions.”

“I don’t want to bother him, if he’s stressed out.”

“He’s always stressed out though. That’s just how he is.” Nevertheless, his tone is fond.

“You must be close.” She draws her knees up, interlacing her fingers around them. “Your family doesn’t approve of your career?”

“They never did, they wanted me to be a politician.” He makes a disgusted expression. “No thanks. Too much work.”

“It definitely is. Signing papers, holding press conferences. A lot of people would be breathing on you.” She does her best to maintain a straight face.

“Exactly.” His gaze shifts to meet hers, and she’s not sure who breaks first, but in the next moment, they’re both laughing. Her hair’s fallen loose, and as she recovers her composure, she tucks it behind her ears. Not for the first time, he glances at the white streak, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he fishes in his back pocket, removing a small punch card that doubles as an advertisement. “Politics would mean quitting my job at the café too. It’s quiet, we have some Haven students like you.”

She accepts it, noting the offer of a free meal after five purchases. “What kind of food do you serve?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” He pulls up his Instagram, scrolling through vibrant pictures of their daily specials, each plate unique. It all seems appetizing, especially in the short cooking videos. In the clips, his steady fingers arrange sandwiches, work over pans of sizzling ingredients, and decorate confections.

There’s one motion in particular that intrigues her. “How’d you do that? Break an egg with one hand?”

“It’s just easier for me, keeps my other one available.”

“You make it look natural.” She attempts to figure out the trick, imagining an egg in her palm and flexing her knuckles.

“One of the waitresses can do it too.”

“So, is it a hiring requirement?”

He laughs again. “No, the other one breaks every egg she touches. You can meet them and see for yourself. You’d probably get along with them.” There’s a pause, as he gives a thoughtful expression. “Thanks.”

Too surprised, she stammers. “F-for what?”

“Usually, I’m too tired for these late night gigs, but right now, I feel fine. I can make it through tonight.”

“...Me too.” She softly says. Her earlier panic has been forgotten, and Halek’s presence is comforting. She’s having fun, just sitting out here and talking. Laughing, which she hasn’t in a long time. Already, she feels closer to him than anyone on campus.

Riel’s return call interrupts them, with the news that her roommate is currently detained at the club’s entrance and clearly unhappy by the screeching in the background. It’s her cue to go, and she hastily brushes herself off, thanking Halek again.

“No problem. Are you going back to your dorm?”

“I thought I would.” She hesitates for just a second, before venturing. “Or I can stay? And listen to your band’s performance?”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “If you want, I can let you in backstage. Take a nap, eat the snacks I brought. You don’t have to worry about crowds at all.”

Oh. That’s very kind of him. Her heart skips a beat, and she hopes she’s not blushing. “Okay then. I’d like that. See you soon?”

“See ya.”

Squaring her shoulders, she makes her way to the front. She braces for whatever abrasive words are in store, but she’s made up her mind. For the first time this semester, she’ll try to have an enjoyable college experience.

[rev-plays-nikki]

Alright here we go 🙃

I am extremely disappointed with the announcement of Heaven’s Favor, or Blessed Land, as it’s been officially named on this Nikki server, as our anniversary hell event. As many others have said, this hell event is beautiful, and I love the suits (although it is disappointing that none have dark skin tones and devs of our Nikki game and devs of the the Chinese server have not thought to add them after the fact), but for an anniversary of the game which many including myself feel is supposed to be the biggest celebration of the year, I was expecting a much larger and more expensive event, such as True Road or Four Gods.

I would have been thrilled with either of those events in truth, though as someone who loves Four Gods and has been wanting it for the last 3 and a half years, I was desperately hoping you would finally bring it to us. I was prepared to spend at least $300 and most likely more on diamonds, lucky bags, and other things, simply to show my support for the devs finally giving players what we have been asking for. The grandeur and expense of this event is puny compared with the other two options we could have been given. People complain sometimes when we get expensive events, yes, but usually that is a result of too many expensive events in a row. That issue does not exist this time, and the player base as a whole does want an occasional very expensive event, especially for an occasion as exciting and celebratory as the game’s anniversary. There will of course always be a few who complain no matter what, but in this case, players including myself are frustrated, angry, and tired of how we are treated by our server’s devs. This event announcement is yet another in a long line of things that have made it clear the only thing or server cares about is money grabbing.

Though this announcement has made me finally decide to stop spending on Love Nikki, it has not been the only thing I’ve been unhappy about. It has simply been ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ as they say. Our server’s devs have also made it clear they don’t care if we get the story in a way that makes sense either. We get the actual story chapters in order, and for the most part in a timely manner, yes, but there is a lot of the story and lore tidbits in other things like events (hell event as well as regular ones) and Dreamweaver stories. We do not get these in chronological order, which makes it confusing for everyone. I have to assume that our devs think we don’t care about the story, which I do think is largely true based on how many people tap through the story stages, but many of us still DO care about the story, so ignoring it and giving no thought to the order in which we receive story based events and Dreamweavers (both long-term “free” ones and ones that cost diamonds) is, frankly, a huge middle finger to that part of the player base.

The recharge lineup for this event is also extremely disappointing to say the least. And this can’t possibly be a surprise after the reaction from players when frost rose was brought back a while ago. We do NOT expect, and certainly do not WANT, return recharges for a hell event. Especially not for the hell event that is supposed to be our big anniversary celebration. Many were prepared to spend big for our anniversary, and now we will be spending nothing. This is yet another in a long history is giving us subpar recharge lineups that are either too expensive for a comparatively mediocre suit or contain too many expensive returning recharges for the same amount of money (or in a couple of instances, more, if someone had purchased parts of the suit in its original run and had to purchase the same again to complete it.) Personally I have purchased every recharge that became available since shortly after I started playing and have well surpassed V15 levels of spending, but I will be skipping these.

It is also shocking, as I noticed recently, that if a player does not claim their daily diamonds one day, the next day the number of daily diamonds left decreases regardless. This means if a player pays for a monthly recharge card, but cannot log in for one or more than one day for that amount of time, they simply lose some of the diamonds they paid for. While it is a “monthly” card, it promises a certain number of diamonds. It would deliver that number no matter what. Other games have systems in place to account for this. For instance, Time Princess, another dress up game, simply allows the player to collect their diamonds for whatever number of days they have not logged in. It works great and everyone stays happy and gets what they paid for. Maybe a similar system is not in place in Love Nikki and that’s fine. There are other ways to make sure people get what they paid for. The diamonds someone didn’t claim could be mailed to them for example, or daily diamonds could be made a permanent event like the daily login reward, and players could claim diamonds once a day as they choose. Another annoyance to players is that the permanent diamond pavilions still do not have a “confirm” pop up asking if players are sure they want to spend up to 1500 diamonds. This seems like such an easy fix and something players have wanted and asked for for some time.

Recharge suits should also come back for crafting. It seems as things have been going for the last four years that none come back for a long time, players complain about it and threaten to boycott, and a short time after, one relatively inexpensive suit will return in an attempt to satisfy players. Players then think this means recharge suits will return regularly, and are appeased for some time until the whole process repeats itself. This is very frustrating and tiresome. Every paid suit should ideally return for crafting, but my guess is that none of the highly expensive ones ever will. That is very sad to me, as I truly believe that every suit should eventually be made available to every player. I believe the same for the ranked suits, all of which I have, as well. It would be great if they came back but I understand for them why they will not far more than for recharge suits. As a paying player, the way I see it when I buy any suit is that I am paying to get it early, not that I am paying to get it at all. And I am more than happy to pay for that, and thrilled to know that every player will have the chance to get it eventually. I’m sure there are other paying players who don’t share my views, so I understand why devs are hesitant to bring back super expensive suits, but I do think they should return. Not only because on other servers recharge suits return for crafting far more frequently than on ours, but also because as time goes on the suits end up looking older and older and as such their value to players should decrease. The price of suits should go down when they return, not stay the same, and eventually every suit should be obtainable for any player.

Now, back to this hell event again, and more specifically Four Gods, because I’m selfish and I want it. Four Gods has been around for years. Those of us who have known about it from its original run on the original Chinese server have been expecting it to come to us ever since. Lore-wise, as I understand it, it was sort of an introduction to the main four Cloud families and their heads who feature prominently in some event and Dreamweaver stories, though not so much the main story yet. The event was sort of a prequel to Four Wars, and on the Chinese server Four Gods came first. I remember when we got the announcement for Four Wars for our server, and my utter shock. No one had expected or really been asking much for this hell and there were so many other, older events that would have made more sense to us at the time. This I think was the first truly egregious breach of lore order, at least that I can recall and that was so important to the story. When we got Four Wars most players had no idea who these characters were, so how were they supposed to care about them or the story? I think a large part of why many players don’t care about the story can be attributed to the devs not caring about it for us. If we were given events and story parts in chronological order so that it made sense, it would be much easier to follow and perhaps players wouldn’t give up on it so easily.

Since then however, years have passed and we still have not received Four Gods, or even been given the courtesy of being told why we haven’t gotten it. It hasn’t even been mentioned to us by our devs. Now there are rumors floating around the Love Nikki community about it that I think do no one any favors. There is the (I suspect true) rumor that the devs have for a long time intended to never give us this event. There is a rumor that there is some issue with converting the files from an older event to our newer server. There is a rumor that the reason we have not gotten Four Gods is that the devs do not want to give players the opportunity to get the 3000 free diamonds that originally came with the event. There are these and many other rumors, all of which highlight I think the most important issue with regards to our server, and that is communication.

Our server’s devs have always been, quite frankly, horrible at communicating with their player base. We get event announcements and teasers and all and that’s fine, those things are fun and exciting, but when it comes to larger issues in the game, like as an example darker skin tones and makeups that match them, and what the team is doing about it, we receive little to nothing. With this specific issue, and it’s not the only one, it seems players complain and complain and threaten to boycott as I’ve mentioned earlier, and the team eventually gives us the promise that they are working on it. These promises usually come far later than they should. And communication should be more than just promises once the team has finally decided to promise it. Communication should include the in-between phases. For instance, using this example, respond to players more quickly and tell us what the team is considering. We don’t always need promises, especially when the team can’t deliver what is wanted in a timely manner. We want to know what is going on. If the team is discussing something before deciding, let us know! It’s ok if nothing has been decided yet. We want to know what is going on, and if we know, we can give feedback and help the team in its discussions.

The game Time Princess again does this well. They offer frequent surveys that players can access the link to in-game, and they have almost weekly live chats in their Discord server where they answer questions, give hints and teasers about future events, give out extra redeem codes, and have players play fun trivia games with them regarding the game’s stories. If Love Nikki’s devs did something similar, it would greatly increase fan engagement with the game and the story, and show that our devs do care about us and what we want. After being more transparent with the community, and letting us know what’s going on, better decisions can be made, and better plans can be formed, instead of the team telling us nothing and letting us wonder and spread usually baseless rumors until we are given a promise. Even the promises are not always adequate either. With the dark skin tone makeups again, we were promised the team was working on it. And yes, we have received more dark skin makeups since, and that’s great, but it seems like we haven’t received that many recently, and when they come they are usually recipes that cost diamonds, and we only get a few makeups matching a few skin tones rather than one makeup for each.

My concern is that something similar will happen this time as well, and the team may well decide to continue not bringing us Four Gods without telling us a word about it or about why they have made such a decision. Supposedly now the team is talking about possibly bringing us Four Gods, but how do I know that? From the devs being open about their process and transparent with players about their plans and thinking? No, of course not. I know this because someone “close to Nikki'' told this to a well known player whom the rest of us know and trust as largely the only player who really knows what’s going on with the devs. And I doubt she even really does, but based on how little communication we get from the devs, it seems that way to the rest of us. And I of course do not mean this in any way to bash or throw negativity at Iri, I love her and she’s a wonderful person and member of our community! But it is a problem with our devs when someone telling one player something is the only way we can get some shred of an answer to our questions and desires.

Now, because I don’t want to be all negative and I don’t want to complain without offering solutions, here is a bullet point form list of things that could be changed in the game to greatly improve it and the players’ relationship with our devs. :)

- First and most importantly: communicate with players! Tell us what is going on with the team. Ask for feedback more often about more things than which door styles we prefer. Involve us in discussions! Transparency is paramount for any brand these days.

- Give us better “free” things. The Chinese server famously gets more free things like login rewards after server maintenance, etc.

- Add another recharge tier. The Chinese server has one more recharge tier than us ifI recall correctly, as well as their highest tier being more diamonds for less money. if that’s not possible for whatever reason, let us know and let us know why! And then make things less expensive. If that’s also impossible, give us better rewards. If that’s also impossible, at least let us know.

- Let people claim their daily dias even if they miss a day. Suggestions for this are already above in what I wrote.

- Add an “are you sure you want to do this?” button to all diamond pavs. Maybe with a checkmark for “don’t ask me again on this account.”

- Make sure darker skin tones and makeups come back in a timely manner. Maybe make a schedule for it and share that with players. Explain why it takes so long. Work on bringing poses for darker skin tones as well. If that’s not possible, explain to us why in detail.

- Give us four gods. Please and thank you. :) I promise plenty of us want it. If you can’t or won’t, tell us that, and tell us why. If you can’t tell us why due to a non disclosure agreement or something similar, tell us you aren’t able to tell us why. Whatever communication you can give us is far better than none.

I love and care about this game deeply. It has been a very important part of my gaming life through the past four years. I would not have bothered writing any of this if that weren’t true. I truly and genuinely hope that things change and get better in the future, but until then I will not be quitting, but I also will not be spending nearly as much time or money on it as I have in the past, which makes me sad. I wish everyone the best and I hope our devs will listen and improve their communication at the very least. Thank you.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Couples Retreat ~ KSJ [M] [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 6.1K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluff, smut (fluffy smut) mentions of cheating Namjoon, fluff, a TINY angst

↬↬↬Pairing: Seokjin x reader

↬↬↬A/n: Okay I had a lot of fun with this one and I normally don’t say that about fluff, I’ve been trying to work on my writing style so let me know what you think and I hope this is okay for you love

The small car that you were travelling in pulled into the snow-filled driveway and you were in 'awe' already of the small log cabin in front of you it was gorgeous and looked like something from a Christmas movie. It was pitch black outside since you'd come out in the dead of night but there were fairy lights lining the triangle roofing that was shining through despite being covered by snow you were sure that if it was snowing right now the scene would be something straight out of a snowglobe. 

"I'll get the bags, go inside," Jin said as he handed you a small silver key, by the bags he meant your bags because this was going to be a peaceful weekend alone for you. The bags were also filled with mostly his clothes and parts of yours he'd found around the dorms back home, you couldn't go back to get your own. Not after how you'd found the house. You were never going to go back there for as long as you lived, too many images and too many bad memories.

"Thanks again Jin this is- this is whoa." You whispered struggling to think of words on how to thank him for everything he was doing and everything he'd been doing since finding out the news about you and Namjoon or rather what Namjoon had done. 

"I told you it's what friends are for." You sighed, he'd been saying that the entire drive up but it didn't make any of it easier. You wanted to thank him properly for this it was supposed to be your weekend away with Namjoon but after what you walked in on him doing you doubted that there would ever be and you and Namjoon again. You flicked on the light switch inside the cabin and it lit everything up, the lounge and kitchen were joint together while the two bedrooms were split between a giant fireplace in the middle each with their own en-suite inside. It was like the perfect little getaway place. 

You'd had one of the worst days at work that you could have had, your boss had done nothing but hound you about some report that was due but it wasn't within your jurisdiction to write it. Instead, it was down to the intern that he was fucking to do but she was too busy getting her rocks off to even bother with it so it was passed down to you. All you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed beside Namjoon and sleep away until you could leave on your romantic getaway the next day, 

"What the-" The front door was locked which was odd because Namjoon only locked the door when he was going to the studio and he'd told you he wasn't going there today. That he was going to spend the day packing up your bags for the weekend away at Jin's family winter cabin. The keys in the door jingled with all of the keychains that you had on them and you frowned seeing Namjoon's coat and shoes by the front door so he was obviously home. You took your keys from the door and bent down to pick up the post as you shut the door behind you, 

"Namjoon? Are you home?" You called out to an empty apartment, you were about to head into the living room when you heard something bang upstairs from the bedroom. You dropped the keys into the bowl at the bottom of the stairs and kicked off your shoes as you flicked through the letters you had in your hand. 

"Namjoon I was thinking we could head up to Jin's early? I'm feeling really deflated from work." You laughed it off as you stared at all of the letters while opening the door. You hadn't even noticed at first until you heard a scream, you looked up to see him naked with another woman. 

"N-Namjoon?" Your voice broke and the letters dropped onto the floor as you came to the realisation of what they were doing in the bed together, you stumbled backwards into the door and tried to make a quick retreat out of the house. 

"Y/n wait!" Namjoon called trying to get out of the tangled sheets and come after you but you were already out into the street as he reached the front door. 

"Y/n!"

"Don't! Don't Namjoon," You turned around to see him standing there in nothing but a sheet, all you could see when you looked at him was him in the bed with her. In your bed where you should have been,

"Y/n please don't walk away from me," You scoffed at how he was acting, as if he was the hurt one in this situation. You opened up your car door right as the blonde he'd been with came to the door and shouted Namjoon to come back to her, you stared at him as if daring him to go back to her. You wanted to know what he was going to do, throw 5 years of a relationship away for some hookup or try to make it even remotely okay with you? His back slowly turning towards the door gave you the answer you'd been dreading and you got into the car. 

Tears filled your eyes as you pulled into Jin's driveway, you had no idea if he would even be home or if he'd be alone you just had to get out of the house and away from Namjoon. 

"Jin?!" You called out as you frantically banged on the door waiting for an answer but there was nothing. 

"Jin?" Your voice trembled as you finally succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you left your driveway that night. Everything about seeing him with her kept rushing back to your head when you tried to close your eyes, you just wanted to get the image out of there. But the way she called out his name when she stood at the door...as if she owned the place.

"Fuck," You sobbed rolling down the door and bringing your knees into your chest as your lip began to tremble you finally let out a shaky breath as you cried into your knees. 

"Y/n?" You heard Jin's voice call out, he'd heard you whimpering when he got out of his car and he found you curled up in a ball on his doorstep. 

"What are you doing here? Where's Nam-" He stood himself from asking that last question when he saw your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes. 

"Can...Can I come in?" He nodded and helped you up from the floor, walking behind you with his hand on the small of your back. You hadn't told him anything but he could tell whatever it was wasn't good. 

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom for you, and I think I had someone stock up the fridges and cupboards so you'll be okay for food," Jin said as the grand tour of the log cabin came to an end. Your arms were wrapped around you tightly, you were standing in one of his hoodies and some sweatpants of Jimin's. All of the clothes you were going to bring were back at the house and you'd begged Jin not to take you back there. Instead, he took you to the dorms to grab clothes from there and then drove you straight up into the mountains promising you it would help get your mind off things. If Namjoon had been the one to bring you up here - like he was supposed to - Jin wouldn't have needed to come but you'd never been and so he wanted to make sure you knew your way around. You knew it was going to mostly get away from the media that was going to be spread soon enough, there was no doubt in your mind that whoever it was that had been with Namjoon was going to tell everyone she knew that she'd been with him. 

"I feel bad if I send you home tonight Jin, it's late." You whispered to him as you noticed him getting his car keys from his pocket. It was 2 am and the roads were going to start getting icy, you didn't want to risk him getting hurt just because you needed the getaway. 

"I'll stay the night and then I'll leave you to it, I have to go and have words with him." You knew how Jin was feeling, he'd voiced his opinion the moment you told him what Namjoon was doing or rather who he was doing. He didn't want to leave you there alone though, he didn't want you to think that you had to go through all of this alone. He wanted you to be able to talk to him about anything without worrying about him going back to Namjoon and talking about you because he wouldn't do that.

"You should get some sleep, it's been a long day for you." He told you as he nodded over to the main room of the house, you'd already been inside when he gave you the tour. 

The room was huge and in the middle was a four-poster bed with red silk sheets on the top, 

"I put some of Yoongi's basketball shorts in for you to sleep in," Jin explained pointing at the suitcase that was by the end of the bed, you thanked him once again before saying goodnight to him, he shut the door on you and went to the other room to get some sleep.

You laid there awake for what felt like hours until you finally sat up, the sun was just starting to peek through all of the trees that were surrounding the house which meant it was probably around 6:30 in the morning and you hadn't slept a wink all night. You couldn't though, every time you closed your eyes it was like you were back in that room with them but it seemed to drag on forever in your mind. Every blink made you think of the way he looked at her, it was the way he used to look at you. You didn't think he was unhappy, as far as you knew everything was perfect between you and Namjoon until now then your mind wandered to how long this had been going on for behind your back, how long he and her had been laughing about everything you did. It was too much and you had to stop thinking about it. 

Sliding out from under the silk sheets you grabbed some shorts from the suitcase and another one of Jin's oversized hoodies and made a beeline for the en-suite, you'd been dying to use that shower with the jets since the moment you walked into the en-suite and saw them all sitting there.

The door to Jin's room opened and he grumbled something as he came out, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to wake himself up. 

"Morning, I made coffee. Do you want some breakfast?" He was shocked to hear you so cheerful this morning, he was sure he was going to come out and find you crying on the floor but you seemed to be putting on a good face. 

"I'll take a coffee for the road," You made an 'urm' sound as you tried to think of a way to tell him that he wouldn't go going anywhere anytime soon when he heard the radio talking in the background, 

''That's right folks if you're up there in the mountains expect to be snowed in for the weekend as there's a snowstorm coming this way. Keep your winter socks on and get settled in front of the fireplace as it's going to be a cold one." You turned back to look at Jin who nodded, he was used to being snowed in up here so it was no big deal to him. 

"Looks like I'm hijacking your weekend, I'm sorry." You shook your head at him promising him that it was fine. In a way, you were relieved not to have to go through this weekend alone and spend every waking moment wondering about Namjoon back home, you and Jin got along great so it would be just like hanging out with a friend. 

"I'll take breakfast, what are we having?" You softly smiled at him and shrugged your shoulders.

"What do you fancy?" You opened up the fridge, he wasn't kidding when he said someone had stopped by to stock it up. The only time you'd ever seen a fridge so full of food was whenever you went grocery shopping with Namjoon. 

"Whenever we had snow days as kids my mum would make pancakes." You grabbed milk and eggs from the fridge and went hunting for flour in the cupboards. 

"Why was I cursed with such tiny limbs?!" You cried out upon seeing the flour on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, Jin chuckled from behind you as he watched you struggling to climb onto the countertop and get the flour. 

"Want a hand?"

"I've got it, I've got it." You didn't have it, in fact, you were never going to have it because you couldn't even manage to get one leg onto the counter. Jin's presence was only let known when he stood really close to you and reached up to get it for you. 

"Thanks." You whispered turning around in his arms and taking the bag of flour from him, he smiled down at you just now noticing how your eyes seemed to highlight your face very well. 

"Anytime," His voice sounded like it could make the angels sing, it was a lot like his singing voice but you'd never noticed until you were this close to one another. You cleared your throat and went on to continue making the pancakes that he'd asked for. 

After the kitchen encounter, Jin tried to stay away from being that close to you again. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable with him being there but he wasn't going to lie to himself and say that having you right there wasn't nice. He kept imagining himself bending down to kiss you, pushing some of the hair from your face and holding you there while you made breakfast together, he shook his head trying to get the image out of his brain. You'd just broken up with Namjoon and he was supposed to be there for moral support instead of trying to kiss you.

"Jin!" He sat up from the sofa in a panic and dropped the book he was holding, you sounded scared and he was panicking thinking something had happened to you. He burst through the bedroom door to see you clinging onto one of the bedposts while pointing at the floor. 

"Spider!" He screamed jumping onto the bed beside you and holding onto the same bedpost, 

"What are you doing?! Get the spider!" You whined looking at it as it crawled along the floor towards the en-suite, you'd come in to get changed when you saw it chilling right next to your suitcase. 

"What if we just give it the log cabin as a sign of gratitude for not eating us!?" It didn't help that both of you were deathly afraid of all creepy bugs and that thing shouldn't even be classified as one, it was far too large to be classified as a bug. Might as well call it a pet.

"Could put a saddle on it and ride it down the mountain." A shiver ran up your spine as you spoke watching it walk into the en-suite, Jin watched as you carefully got down from the bed and shakily took a class from the bedside table, 

"What..What are you doing?" He stuttered out joining you back on the floor as you crept over to the bathroom door, 

"Saving us from burning the entire log cabin down." You whispered as if the spider could hear you both and somehow catch on to what you were about to do. 

"Deep breath," You whispered to yourself but Jin did one for you, 

"Not you stupid," You grumbled quickly pouncing onto the floor and placing the cup on top of the spider, 

"JIN PAPER QUICK!" You squealed watching as the poor guy tried to get out of the glass in your hand, Jin rushed around the room looking for something to use when he found some. 

"Thanks," He pushed himself against the wall as you carefully picked up the spider, cup and paper combo and walked out of the bedroom in the direction of the front door. You knew spiders couldn't survive in snow so you headed straight to the trees and place the combination of items onto it before running away and slamming the door shut behind you. 

"I didn't want to kill him...he could have had a family." Jin stared at the back of your head as you felt empathy for a spider, his facial expression softened as he watched you watching the cup for a couple of minutes before going back to your own room to do something else. He couldn't help but think about how cute you were when you did all of that, especially when he knew you were just afraid of all bugs like him. 

"What are you doing?" You questioned later in the night when you heard Jin clattering around in the kitchen, you turned away from the book you were holding to see him pan in his hand as well as trying to carry other ingredients. 

"Hot chocolate, come help." You closed the book you were reading and walked over to him to see what needed to be done, 

"Get me a gallon of milk from the fridge and then the cinnamon from the spice rack." You gave him a sarcastic salute before walking away to get the ingredients he'd asked you for. 

"Carefully pour the milk in here." He tapped the pot and watched you pour the huge bottle of milk right into the pan while he began weighing out everything else you needed, 

"Can you get the cocoa powder-" He stopped talking when he saw you staring at him blankly, 

"You're taller you get it." He smirked knowing you were still annoyed that everything you needed was on the higher shelves of the cabin, it was the same with the book you'd picked out to read. It had been on the tallest shelf and you couldn't get it down resulting in you waking Jin up from a nap to get it for you. 

"If we're making hot chocolate can we bake as well?" You questioned looking over his shoulder at the stocked cupboards, there was enough in there to make an entire army a bunch of cookies, cakes and still have room left over. 

"Sure, find a recipe online." You took out your phone and the smile from your face fell off. You had calls from Namjoon sitting there, texts and even alerts on twitter to tell you the latest news story updates. It was out in the world that you and Namjoon broke up, photos of him dressed in nothing but a sheet were splashed around the internet and while you felt bad that they were out there in a way he deserved it for what he'd done for you. 

"What is it- Oh." Jin's voice fell flat, he'd forgotten that the rest of the world even existed outside of the cabin with you and it was all coming back to him that you were one of his friend's ex-girlfriends and he was cosying up to you. 

"It's fine. I'm okay," And you were, spending time with Jin was starting to take your mind off of it all, you never thought it would like this but if this was what was helping to keep you distracted you would keep on at it. 

"Let's bake okay?" He told you poking your cheek with a spoon as he awaited more instructions on what you needed from the cupboard in order to make the best cookies he was ever going to have in his entire life.

"Nothing can beat my mum's cookies." He exclaimed as he began stirring the pot of milk to bring it to a boil, you scoffed at him. 

"You haven't tried mine yet."

You slapped his hand away as he reached for a cookie before the movie even started, 

"Kim Seokjin I will break that hand." You giggled at him as he tried to go for another cookie. Once the opening credits began on the Christmas film you'd selected - yes a Christmas film in November - you handed him one cookie staring at his face while you waited for him to bite into it. He looked at you in the corner of his eye, 

"Is this the part of the trip where you poison me?" You nodded dramatically and he bit into the cookie chewing on it. The outside was the perfect crunch but yet the inside had that classic chewy centre that had his mouthwatering and begging for more. You could already tell by the look on his face that he was enjoying them, 

"Told you mine were better." You teased giving him another cookie and directing your attention to the movie.

Jin's eyes kept dancing over to you whenever he heard you quoting the movie under your breath, it made him chuckle to hear you recite the lines back to the TV. 

"Merry Christmas ya filthy animal." You made the gun noises, 

"And a happy new year." He started chuckling and you looked at him to see what he was finding so funny when you came nose to nose with him, 

"S-Sorry, I know how annoying it is I'll stop-"

"No, don't, It's cute." You felt a warm feeling spread up the back of your neck and into your ears as he indirectly called you cute, you bit down on your lip eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes while the movie ran in the background.

"C-Cute?" You whispered and he nodded slowly at you as he leant in towards you, you leant up. Neither of you were thinking about anything and once your lips touched the rest of the world melted away. The movie faded into silence, Namjoon was out of your mind you were just there with Jin. His hands came up to cup your cheeks while yours worked their way onto the back of his neck moving closer to him until the plate that had been holding the cookies slipped from his lap and smashed onto the floor. You sprung apart from one another and he looked at the plate. 

"I'll clean it up," You nodded frantically trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart from the Earth-shattering kiss that had just happened between you both. 

"I'm...I'm going to go and er...I'm going to go and shower," You said nervously before leaving the living room and going straight into the en-suite within your room. You stared at yourself in the mirror, you'd just made out with Jin on the sofa. Jin who was your ex-boyfriend's best friend. Your ex-boyfriend who had cheated on you. You bent down splashing cold water onto your face as you tried not to think about the kiss but it was hard not to. It was one of the most amazing kisses you'd ever experienced in your life, you could still feel his touch on you as you stood up and stared at yourself once again. What were you thinking? He was Namjoon's best friend, you couldn't kiss him again...even though you really wanted to. Everyone would have something to say about it if they found out. 

The next day it was as if nothing had happened between you and Jin, you almost thought that maybe it was some kind of hyper-realistic dream that you'd had until you found the broken plate in the bin. You and Jin hadn't spoken all day, when he was in the living room you were hiding out in the bedroom and when he was in his room you were in the kitchen trying to eat before he came out. You didn't know how to act around someone you had just kissed you who you weren't supposed to kiss even if it did feel right to you both.

"What are you doing?" Jin asked when he watched you walk in from the snow and walk over to the fridge, you looked over at him. 

"Building a snowman." You held up the carrot in your hand and he stood up from the sofa, you'd thought he was still hiding out in his room which is why you'd come in from outside. 

"You didn't invite me," He pouted slipping on a coat and following you out into the front part of the cabin, sitting there next to his car were two snowmen that were wrapped in one of Jimin's scarfs and one of Jungkook's hat's that he'd brought along for you.

"He's handsome, is it me?" He joked following you over as you placed a carrot on each of the snowmen faces,

"Nah, not big-headed enough." You deadpanned and he faked a gasp bending down to retrieve some snow from the floor before balling it up and throwing it at you. 

"Oh no, you didn't!" You screamed bending down to grab some and launching it at him, 

"Snowball fight!" He yelled you darted behind his car and skidded along the floor as you tried to make as many snowballs as fast as you could. 

"You're going down Kim!" You cried out as you came out from the car and threw as many as fast as you could before kneeling back down to reload.  

"Oh yeah!? Going down am I?!" You squealed as he came over with snowballs hitting you in the legs before knocking you down onto the floor on your back, he was straddling your lap as you looked up at him giggling as he tickled your sides through the thick coat you were wearing.

"I yield!" You yelled and he finally stopped tickling you laughing as you stared up at him covered in snowflakes as he began snowing around you both. It really was something out of a snowglobe scene, 

"Come on, before we get sick." He chuckled helping you onto your feet and walking you towards the cabin, 

"Go and have a shower, I'll make food and put the fire on." He told you as he stripped you from the coat and went to hang it up somewhere to dry, you looked at him as he did all of it. You wanted to kiss him again and again and again. The whole time he had you pinned down to the floor you wanted him to kiss you like they did in the movies but life wasn't like the movies.

After eating together you were sat in front of the fire trying to warm up, maybe a snowball fight wasn't the best idea when the only thing to keep you warm was a fireplace. The cabin hadn't been kitted out with radiators just yet so you were left to try and warm up here. 

"Go and get the covers from your room and the pillows," Jin whispered when he noticed how tired you were getting. Your eyes were struggling to stay open but you nodded and sleepily made your way into your room to drag the giant cover from the bed along with the pillows. Coming back into the living room you saw Jin was laying his down on the floor in front of the fireplace, 

"Pillows," You threw the pillows to him and he laid them down so you would be at one end while he was at the other. It didn't appeal to you though, you wanted to snuggle up next to him in front of the fire but you understood that it would probably make him uncomfortable since you were Namjoon's ex. 

"You're shivering." He mumbled an hour later, you'd both been trying to sleep but you couldn't drift off because of how cold you were. 

"Here," He moved over and patted the space in front of him, you shifted around to him and laid down so he was right behind you. 

"I'll be able to warm you up quicker." His breath was right on your neck and it send shivers down your spine to have him this close, you could feel his heart racing as you tried to relax against him but it was hard.

"Your heart is beating a thousand times a second," You whispered turning around to look up at him, he swallowed nervously and looked down into your eyes, you somehow looked more beautiful by firelight than ever before and he couldn't help but reach out and run his hand over your cheek, you leant your face into his hand to let him know that you wanted him to do it again. Without thinking he kissed you again, your hands were on the back of his neck pulling him closer to you, you both smiled into the kiss as he pulled you closer by your waist. The sudden closeness made everything around you feel warm, the fire having nothing to do with it. Jin swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you parted your lips for him allowing him to snake his tongue against yours. You whined as you felt him grow larger next to you and ground himself into you. He broke the kiss as he pulled back to make sure you were okay with this, 

"I'm okay," You whispered and he chuckled picking you up so you were straddling his lap. You could feel the tension building between you both so you leant forward to kiss him once again, it was soft and slow as his hands ran up your thighs and onto your waist where they stayed. You let out a giggle as he dug his thumb into you and he chuckled as you did so, 

"Cute," He whispered before kissing you once again, he turned you over so you were back on the floor again and he began kissing down your neck, softly leaving small love bites on the way. None that would leave too much of a mark. You both knew where this was going but he looked at you to make sure you were still okay with everything going on and you nodded at him. His hands slowly tugged down the shorts you were wearing making the heat between your legs grow. He returned to kissing on your neck, sucking on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue sighing in content as you let out a whine of his name, 

"That's so hot." He breathed out and you smiled at him before kissing him and hooking your arms around the back of his neck. His hands slowly traced the inside of your thighs and you whimpered him as you felt your wetness only grow for him. 

"Jin," He smirked up at you know what you wanted so he placed a small kiss on your lips before it turned into a loving make out session on the floor.

"Please Jin," You begged as his fingers ran along your folds soaking them in your arousal, you were dripping for him and desperate for him to just touch you. 

"I want to taste you," You nervously nodded at him and he shuffled down the floor lifting your right leg over his shoulder as he looked up at you. He blew cold air onto your clit and you whimpered legs shaking and he hadn't even touched you yet. 

"You sure?" He questioned and you nodded at him, you'd never been so sure about something else in your life. His mouth attached to your core and you let out a gasp gripping onto the sheets as you felt his tongue begin to flick against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand went into his hair pulling at the strands to silently tell him to keep going, 

"F-Fuck!!" You cried out letting go of his hair as he continued to suck and pull on your clit, he pushed two of his fingers into you and you whimpered, you were already close from his mouth and this was pushing you over the edge. 

"I'm close." You mumbled as you looked down at him, he hummed at your core and the vibrations pushed you further to your edge. 

"Jin!" You whimpered as the warm sensation took over your body, your vision began to have black dots in it as your orgasm washed over you. Jin continued to eat you out through your orgasm but the sensitivity was too much and you jutted away from him. He chuckled at you as you took a couple of seconds to get your breathing back to normal, 

"You okay?" Your breathing was still harsh but you nodded as you panted to him, 

"Fine just a little intense." He chuckled and that was when you spotted the tent in his sweatpants, you were instantly filled with energy and you went to sit up, 

"Do you need a minute-"

"Need you." You whispered and he chuckled at your desperation laying you back down on the floor, then the realisation hit you both, 

"I don't have any-"

"Me neither but I've got an IUD," You told him and he nodded at you, he knew you were clean. He kicked off his sweatpants and lined himself up at your entrance. Rubbing himself up and down in your folds to coat himself up, 

"Jin please," You begged and he kissed you as he slowly slipped into you, you moaned into the kiss at the feeling of him stretching you out around him sending a feeling of intense ecstasy through your body.

"Shit you feel so good," He grunted holding himself in place and placing his head in the crook of your neck to stop himself from ravishing you. 

"Y-You can move." You whimpered wanting to feel him move, he hooked your leg over his shoulder once again and he began to roll his hips into you, kissing you as he fucked into you. 

"Jin," You moaned out encouraging him to go a little faster. His hips continued thrusting into you and you could feel his tip hitting that one part of you that had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back. Jin could tell by the look on your face that you were close yet again and he loved it. 

"You're so tight, fuck you have no idea how amazing you feel." He moaned out as his hand held onto your waist so he could keep you in place. you tightened around at him at his words and he picked up the pace a little more, angling himself so he could reach deeper into you. 

"Shit right there!" You cried out back arching off the floor as he hit you in just the right spot that turned your version blurry. His free hand travelled down to your core where he began rubbing your clit in fast circles making you whimper and cry out his name over and over again. Pleasure ripping through you as you felt your second orgasm hitting you of the night, 

"Jin!" You cried out riding out your high as he released into you grunting out your name heavily as he held himself in place. 

The next morning you woke up tangled in Jin's arms and you smiled looking up at him, the sun was shining through the window directly on him and he looked like an angel sent from above. 

"Cute," You whispered kissing his cheek getting up to go and have a quick shower before he woke up, you had no idea what was going to happen the moment you left the cabin but right here and now you didn't care. All you cared about was the magical night that you and Jin had spent together, come to think of it the whole weekend had been amazing considering it was supposed to be. A weekend away with Namjoon, turned into a weekend away alone turned to a weekend away with your ex-boyfriend's best friend who you'd just slept with. There was one thing for sure in your mind, you didn't regret sleeping with him at all and you didn't think you were ever going to. Being with Jin felt right and you didn't care if it was wrong in anyone else's eyes. 

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

[zevlors-tail]

Hi. I'm going to be moving all of my works to AO3 within the week and deleting most, if not all of them, here, and the blog itself.

I feel I have overstayed my welcome on tumblr and recently I've been getting some really nasty anon hate, and I'm tired of blocking them.

I don't feel like it's safe or healthy for me to be here as a creator anymore and all this blog does is make me feel guilty. Guilty because I didn't fulfill requests that have been sitting in my ask box, guilty because I didn't respond to messages, guilty because I can never seem to find time or energy to write anymore.

My comfort characters aren't comforting anymore and instead of helping, my brain tries to self sabotage and turn the idea of them against me. I can't stand to look at my writing most days and I can't focus enough to add on to it when I can. My sense of self feels warped. I don't even remember the last time I enjoyed logging on to here.

I feel like I've failed. And if being here is making me feel that miserable, then I don't want to be here.

To the anon who called me a self centered fatass, fuck you. Fuck you and your fatphobia. I don't get bothered by things easily but you specifically came into my ask box with malicious intent knowing my circumstances and what I struggle with and then chose to make that comment when you knew I was already triggered.

I've had it here. I am so unhappy with the person I've become and though Sweater was a really cool alias for a while, now I just cringe every time I hear it. I cringe every time I come here.

I don't think I'm going to find what I'm looking for here. I think it's time for me to leave, at least for now. It feels stupid to even be writing this. I don't have another solution and I've been wanting to deactivate for a while.

I'm keeping my other sfw blog up, at least for now, to interact with mutuals and keep in touch with those that I want to. If I interacted with you at all as a mutual, that means you.

Idk what else to say. Maybe I'm being dramatic. I'm not sure of anything anymore. I feel like a faceless void with empty static in my head and I fucking hate it. I was so sure when I started this blog, and now I have no idea. I can never settle on one idea, can never get one theme down, can never fucking do what I tell everyone I'm going to do.

Sorry.

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.24: This Side of Paradise

AKA Yet Another Creepy Utopia Planet

Our episode begins with the Enterprise heading in to orbit around an Earthy-looking planet named Omicron Ceti 3. Omicon Ceti is a real star, by the way—also known as Mira or Mira A, it’s a red giant and part of a binary star system with its sister Mira B. It’s not a real likely place to go looking for such a nice homey sort of planet, though, because Mira is a pulsating variable star, which means its size and brightness is constantly fluctuating, and it’s hard to evolve life when your sun keeps flickering like a neon sign in a noir movie all the time.

Uhura reports to Kirk that she’s been transmitting a contact signal every five minutes just as he ordered, but she’s only getting dead air in response.  Kirk tells her to keep it up until they get into orbit, then moves on to talk to Spock. “There were one hundred fifty men, women and children in that colony,” he says. “What are the chances of survivors?”

Looks like the chances are, uh...not great. And by ‘not great’ I mean ‘nonexistent’. Spock explains that ‘Bertold rays’ are a recent enough discovery that there’s still a lot not known about them, but one thing that is for sure known is that exposure to these rays causes living animal tissue to disintegrate. Nasty. Evidently this planet is heavily exposed to these rays, because a group of colonists-- “Sandoval’s group”-- came here only three years ago and Spock says there’s no possibility they could have survived. Well why the heck would anyone build a colony in such a place? All Spock can say is “They knew there was a risk.”

Kirk questions whether they can risk sending a landing party down under such conditions, but Spock says the disintegration doesn’t start immediately, so they’ll be alright if they don’t stick around too long. The helmsman reports that they’ve successfully established orbit, and he’s found a settlement—or at least, something that was a settlement at one point. Kirk tells Spock to equip a landing party of five to accompany him down there, including a biologist and McCoy. That’s gonna be a fun mission briefing. “Yes, we're beaming down to a planet bombarded with deadly radiation, but no need to worry, crew, your tissues will probably only disintegrate a little bit."

Sometime later, the landing party—Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Sulu, a blueshirt and a goldshirt—materialize into a meadow near a dirt path and a picket fence. They’ve thoughtfully arranged themselves into a nice alternating pattern.

[ID: A shot of a sunny meadow with a dirt road, a few trees and a white picket fence in the background. Newly beamed down are six Enterprise crewmembers standing in two rows: in the front are Kirk and Spock, in the back are McCoy, a goldshirt, a blueshirt, and Sulu.]

The goldshirt, incidentally, is DeSalle, who we last saw back in The Squire of Gothos. The character was originally written for this story as Lt. Timothy Fletcher, but was changed to DeSalle after the production crew realized they’d cast an actor who had already appeared in the series. Yes, really. AGAIN. The blueshirt is Kelowitz, who showed up briefly in The Galileo Seven and Arena, and likewise started out as another character but was renamed after being cast. I don’t know how this situation managed to happen so often on TOS, but apparently it did. At least they both seem to have managed to hold onto more or less the same positions that they had the last time we saw them, a rare feat for any minor TOS crewmember.

The group walks forward towards some nearby farm buildings arranged around a dirt yard, with a horse-drawn cart sitting out in front of one of them. But there’s no horse to be seen, and no people either. They wander through the yard and over toward what looks like a paddock, but without any animals in it. Everything seems quite thoroughly deserted.

Kirk leans on the paddock fence and glumly muses, “Another dream that failed. There’s nothing sadder. It took these people a year to make the trip from Earth. They came all that way...and died.” Hold on, it took them a year? What, do they not give colony ships warp drives? Did they have to hitchhike here?

“Hardly that, sir,” someone says, and suddenly we see three men in green jumpsuits standing at the edge of the yard, looking very relaxed and also very not dead.

As the landing party all turn around to stare in shock the man in front strides forward and says, “Welcome to Omicron Ceti 3. I’m Elias Sandoval.” McCoy looks like he’s getting ready to spray the dude with holy water.

After the titles, we get a brief captain’s log to sum things up, just in case everyone forgot what happened during the commercial break:

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 3417.3. We thought our mission to Omicron Ceti 3 would be an unhappy one. We had expected to find no survivors of the agricultural colony there. Apparently, our information was incorrect.”

The colonists start happily shaking hands with the landing party—but happily as in “oh, it’s so nice to meet you” not “oh thank god you came to rescue us we’re all on the brink of death”. Sandoval says they haven’t seen anyone outside the colony since they left Earth four years ago, although they’ve been expecting someone to come by for a while. Apparently their subspace radio didn’t work right and they don’t have anyone who could “master its intricacies”. Now, I’m no expert on establishing colonies on alien planets, but ‘person who can work our only communication device’ does rather seem like a position you would want to make sure was filled before you left.

Kirk has to explain that they haven’t come to visit because of the dead radio. He does not explain why they did decide to come when they did. Spock’s comment about the colonists knowing there was a risk indicates that whether or not Bertold rays specifically were known about before the colonists left, they at least had reason to believe there was something dangerous about the planet. So why’d the Federation let them go and then wait another three years before sending anyone to check up on them? Eh, probably just another failing of twenty-third century space bureaucracy.

Sandoval’s not bothered about it, though. He tells Kirk that it doesn’t make much difference—the important thing is the party is here now and the colonists are happy to see them. Then he invites them on a tour of the settlement and casually strolls off, leaving the landing party to stand there and try to process what the hell they just witnessed.

“Pure speculation, just an educated guess...I’d say that man is alive,” McCoy says. Thanks Bones.

Spock says that his scans show that the planet is getting ray’d just as their reports indicated, so that’s not the issue. Under this intensity, the landing party could safely hang out here for a week if necessary, as per the usual Star Trek rule that you can be exposed to a deadly thing and be just fine up until the exact moment it kills you, but there’s a mighty big difference between a week and three years. Or as Kirk succinctly puts it, “These people shouldn’t be alive.”

“Is it possible they’re not?” Sulu asks. Great out of the box thinking there Sulu, love it.

Kirk takes a moment to consider that, which is fair—compared to the kind of weird shit they’ve encountered so far, the walking dead wouldn’t even stand out that much. But McCoy points out that when they shook hands with Sandoval, “His flesh was warm. He’s alive. There’s no doubt about that.” Spock fires back with a reminder that, “There’s no miracle connected with [Bertold rays], doctor, you know that. No cures, no serums, no antidotes. If a man is exposed long enough, he dies.” Okay dude, calm down, all McCoy said was “he’s alive” not “my god! Bertold rays have been fake all along! wake up sheeple!"

As Kirk points out, this whole debate is pretty pointless anyway for the moment—they’re arguing in a vacuum, and they’ll need more answers if they want to get anywhere. So they go to follow Sandoval, who leads them towards a nearby farm house, while a few colonists do various farm chores nearby. Sandoval explains that the colonists split into three groups, with forty-five people at this settlement and two more settlements elsewhere on the planet. Apparently they thought that arrangement would give each group a better chance for growth, since if some disaster struck one group the other two would probably still be alright.

“Omicron is an ideal agricultural planet,” he says. “We determined not to suffer the fate of the expeditions that went before us.” It’s rather vague what expeditions he’s referring to here, since at no other point in the episode are any previous attempts at settling Omicron Ceti 3 mentioned. But given that Sandoval specifically mentions the possibility of disease afflicting one group as a reason to split up, and Spock earlier said that Bertold rays were a recent discovery—and that the colonists knew coming to Omicron Ceti 3 was risky-- it seems possible that previous groups tried to settle the planet and, without knowing about the Bertold rays, mistook their effects for some kind of disease native to the planet. Of course that doesn’t explain why this group of colonists decided it would be a good idea to try to settle here again anyway, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few months, it’s that not everyone sees the possibility of dying to a terrible disease as a compelling reason to change their plans in any way.

As they stand in the farmhouse talking about this, a woman steps forward from another room in the house. She’s in soft focus, just in case we might forget she’s a woman, and instead of the green jumpsuit all the male colonists are wearing, she’s wearing green overalls over a lavender shirt, a combination that somehow manages to be an even worse fashion disaster than the jumpsuits themselves. She starts to say something to Sandoval, then stops in surprise as she sees the landing party. But for once the romance-o-vision isn’t for Kirk—it’s Spock that the camera zooms in on as the woman stares at him.

“Layla, come meet our guests,” Sandoval says cheerfully, oblivious to the wistfully romantic background music. He introduces her as Layla Colomi, their botanist. Layla says that she and Spock have met before, but “It’s been a long time.” Kirk gives Spock a bit of a side-eye for that, but Spock offers no details.

Well, all romantic tension aside, they do still have a mission to attend to here, as Kirk reminds Sandoval. Sandoval tells them to go ahead with any examinations or tests they want. “I think you’ll find our settlement an interesting one. Our philosophy is a simple one: that men should return to a less complicated life. We have few mechanical things here, no vehicles, no weapons. We have harmony here. Complete peace.” Oh yeah, that bodes well. Remember the last place we saw complete harmony and peace? At least that explains why everyone on this farm is using equipment straight out of Stardew Valley, which is presumably not the most advanced agricultural technology available by the twenty-third century. I’m not sure why Sandoval’s idea of a simpler lifestyle excludes vehicles, though. They’re not exactly the most recent thing on the timeline of human technological advancements.

Sandoval tells the landing party to make themselves at home, and they all head off. All except for Spock, who lingers just a few seconds more to give Layla a completely neutral look before walking away as well.

Everyone goes off to conduct their respective investigations. Sulu and Kelowitz wander through a yard over towards another farm building. Kelowitz isn’t sure what exactly they should be looking for, though. “Whatever doesn’t look right—whatever that is,” Sulu replies, climbing up to sit on a railing on the building’s porch. “When it comes to farms, I wouldn’t know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me.” I hope you enjoyed that line, because “didn’t grow up on a farm” is about all the backstory TOS is going to give us for Sulu until the movies.

[ID: Three screenshots showing Sulu pulling himself up to sit on the railing of an old-fashioned farmhouse as he says, "When it comes to farms, I wouldn't know what looked right or wrong if it were two feet from me." Growing up from the ground nearby are two large plants with thick brownish-purple stems and large pink flowers on top.]

Hey Sulu, what's that about two feet from you? Oh well, I'm sure it's not important.

Kelowitz opens up a nearby barn and notes that there’s no cows there—in fact, the barn isn’t even built for cows, just for storage, and indeed it only looks big enough to be useful for holding cow, singular. Having a storage barn isn’t itself that weird, although the fact that there is nothing currently stored in the storage barn is a bit strange. But also, as Sulu points out, come to think of it, they haven’t seen any animals here, native or imported. No cows, no horses, no pigs, not even a dog. Which is a bit odd for an agricultural colony. They must have had or expected to have animals at some point—otherwise what was pulling that cart?

Back in the house, Sandoval is asking Layla about Spock (once again referred to as a ‘Vulcanian’). She says that she knew Spock on Earth, six years ago. Sandoval, apparently having noticed the dreamy background music by now, asks if Layla loved Spock. She says that if she did, “it was important only to myself...Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me. It is said he has none to give.”

“Would you like him to stay with us now? To be one of us?” Sandoval asks. Layla smiles at him. “There is no choice, Elias,” she says. “He will stay.”

Elsewhere in the house, McCoy is scanning a colonist. He doesn’t look exactly happy with the tricorder result he gets, but all he says is, “That’ll be all, thank you very much,” and the colonist leaves, passing Kirk coming in. Incidentally, I can’t help but note that this room contains two paintings on the wall and what appears to be a cabinet full of china. I suppose the paintings could have been done by a colonist, but the china could surely only have been brought there. Who decided to pack fancy china on a year-long space voyage to an agricultural colony?

[ID: A shot of the interior of a farmhouse with blue walls, with a large wooden table in the middle of the room, a cabinet with china and glassware in the corner, a wooden desk with a copper tea kettle and some other kitchen items on it against the back wall, and a painting hanging on the wall showing some blurry trees. Sandoval, a middle-aged white man with short brown hair wearing a green jumpsuit, walks past the camera as he says, "Oh, captain, I've been looking for you."]

Kirk asks if McCoy’s found anything yet. McCoy replies that he’s surveyed nine men so far, ranging in age from twenty-three to fifty-nine. And they’re all in perfect condition. Not just healthy—perfect. Textbook responses across the board, from all of them. “If there are many more of them,” McCoy muses, “I can throw away my shingle.”

At that point Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s Spock, calling in from one of the crop fields. He’s made the same observation as Sulu—there’s no life on the planet aside from the colonists and the plants. No animals, no insects. Spock doesn’t have any explanation yet, so Kirk tells him to carry on with his investigation and hangs up.

McCoy notes the absence of animals as peculiar, and Kirk says it’s especially so because the expedition records show that they did bring animals with them to raise for food. And pull their carts, presumably. But it seems none of them are still around. McCoy says he’d like to see the expedition’s medical records, a request Kirk has apparently anticipated because he’s got the floppy disc on hand with him.

Sandoval comes in and says that he’d like to take the two of them on a tour of the fields, to show off what the colony’s accomplished. McCoy says he’ll have to bow out, since he’s still working on the medical examinations. “However, if I find everyone else’s health to be as perfect as yours...”

“You’ll find no weaklings here,” Sandoval says, which uh, sure is a hell of a way to phrase that. “No weaklings! None of those miserable, pathetic sods with imperfect health! Only the strong survive! THE SLIGHTEST BLEMISH SHALL BE CAUSE FOR EXILE!”

Leaving McCoy behind, Kirk and Sandoval head out to the fields, where Sandoval gushes to Kirk about how great this place is: they’ve got moderate climate, moderate rains all year round, and the soil will grow anything they stick in it. Which is pretty miraculous, considering there’s no such thing as growing conditions that are perfect for every plant. But as we’re about to see, that’s not the only weird thing going on with their farming practices.

The conversation is interrupted by DeSalle arriving to give Kirk the biology report. Sandoval excuses himself to attend to work elsewhere, leaving Kirk and DeSalle alone to discuss the report. At first, it seems to be just as Sandoval said: they’ve got a variety of crops growing here successfully. The weird thing is that they don’t actually have very many of those crops. There’s enough to keep the colony going at the size it currently is, but barely more than that. Which tracks with what we’ve seen of the place so far: a couple of tiny fields that look more about the size for someone’s backyard garden than for a prosperous farm, tended by the occasional person idly scratching at the ground with a hoe. For a supposedly bounteous agricultural colony, that’s pretty weird. What have they been doing all this time?

“It’s like a jigsaw puzzle all one color,” Kirk muses, taking a moment to stroll a few steps away so he can say this dramatically in the distance instead of actually talking to DeSalle. “No key to where the pieces fit in. Why?”

Kirk’s communicator goes off. It’s McCoy, saying Kirk had better get back over there. “Trouble?” “No, but I’d like you to see this for yourself.” Of course. No one can ever just explain something over the phone, can they.

So Kirk heads back to the house, where the thing that Kirk just absolutely has to see for himself turns out to be McCoy just telling him what he’s found out, but he definitely couldn't do that over the communicator for, uh, reasons. What he’s found out is pretty interesting, though: McCoy checked up on Sandoval’s medical records from right before the colonists had left, which said that Sandoval had had an appendectomy, and had scar tissue on his lungs from childhood pneumonia (the weakling!). Yet when McCoy scanned Sandoval himself today, the results came back just as perfect as all the other colonists’. Kirk’s first thought is instrument failure, but McCoy says no, he thought of that and tested it by scanning himself, and it recorded him just fine, down to “those two broken ribs I had once.” Which sounds like an interesting story. But Sandoval’s scan? No scar tissue, and one healthy appendix. That’s right, Sandoval’s apparently managed to regrow an entire organ. Do you think you would notice that happening? Like, would it itch?

While Kirk and McCoy try to figure that out, Spock is hanging out in a field scanning with his own tricorder, while Layla stands nearby smiling ominously at him. Spock muses that there’s “Nothing. Not even insects. Yet your plants grow, and you’ve survived exposure to Bertold rays.” Yeah, how are those plants growing without insects? Presumably the native plants have evolved some way around that, but the ones the colonists have brought from Earth would need some help. Are the colonists just manually pollinating everything? Maybe that’s why they haven’t grown very much.

Layla says this can be explained, but when asked to do so, she just says, “Later.” Spock looks annoyed and remarks, “I have never understood the female capacity to avoid a direct answer to any question.” Hey! Cut that bullshit out. No one on this colony has directly answered a question since you got here, there’s no call to go ragging on a whole gender for it. Besides, just saying “Later,” is hardly a stunningly deft diversion, it’s not like she threw a smoke bomb down and disappeared.

“And I never understood you,” Layla says, walking over and placing a hand on his chest. “Until now. There was always a place in here where no one could come. There was only the face you allow people to see. Only one side you’d allow them to know.”

[ID: Three screenshots of Spock and Layla, a white woman with a lot of long blonde hair wearing a lilac shirt and green overalls, standing outside in a field with a large tree in the background. Layla, seen from behind, is pressing her hand to Spock's upper chest and saying, "There was always a place in here where no one could come." Spock replies "you know that's not where my heart is right".]

If Layla was hoping this little speech would prompt Spock to cry out that yes, she’s figured him out, he does love her but has never been able to show it! she’s disappointed, because he just looks uncomfortable and steps away. He tries to steer the conversation back onto the mystery of the colonists. “If I tell you how we survive,” she asks, “will you try to understand how we feel about our life here? About each other?”

That’s a pretty vague thing to make a promise about, so Spock deflects by saying that emotions are alien to him; he’s a SCIENTIST. “Someone else might believe that—your shipmates, your captain—but not me,” Layla says. Oh sure! Obviously none of the people who have lived, worked, and risked death alongside Spock can be expected to know anything about Spock. Only you are the Spock Expert, gifted with incredible insight by virtue of having a crush on him.

“Come,” she says, sauntering off through the field with her hand outstretched to him. Spock rather pointedly folds his hands behind his back instead and follows her.

Back in the house, Kirk and McCoy are struggling to have a conversation with Sandoval. Kirk tells Sandoval that he’s received orders from Starfleet Command to evacuate everyone on the colony, since, y’know, deadly rays and all that. He expects Sandoval to start making preparations. But Sandoval, calmly, casually, says, “No.” It’s not necessary, he insists—they’re in no danger.

But...but the Bertold rays. Sandoval is unmoved,  pointing out that as McCoy’s own instruments show, the colonists are in perfect health and there have been no deaths. Okay, what about all those animals? What happened to them? “We’re vegetarians,” Sandoval says blithely. Which, as Kirk points out, does absolutely nothing to answer the question. Actually it raises further questions.

Sandoval remains thoroughly unbothered and thoroughly unhelpful. “Captain, you stress very unimportant matters. We will not leave,” he says, and goes back to gazing out the window, evidently considering the conversation over.

Elsewhere, Spock and Layla are still walking, and Spock is getting annoyed that Layla still hasn’t explained just what it is they’re going to see. “Its basic properties and elements are not important,” Layla says helpfully. “What is important is that it gives life, peace, love.” Oh boy.

Spock is dubious, but Layla pulls him forward, over towards another one of those large pink flowers. “I was one of the first to find them,” Layla says. “The spores.”

[ID: A gif of Spock approaching a large pinkish-purple flower and saying, "Spores?" The flower then sprays a cloud of white spores all over his face and torso while Spock recoils.]

For a moment Spock just looks startled, but then he starts clutching his head and falling onto his knees in the grass, dropping his tricorder and gasping, “No--” For the first time all episode, Layla’s absolute serenity starts to fracture slightly. Over Spock’s agonized protests, she insists that it shouldn’t hurt—it didn’t hurt any of them. But, as Spock gasps out, he’s not like them. Whoops, did the biologist forget to account for biological differences before handing out a facefull of spores? I bet you didn’t even check if he had any allergies first, did you?

Just as it’s looking like this might put actually put a crack in Layla’s blissed-out impassivity, Spock stops thrashing about and starts seeming less anguished and more confused. Layla’s concern vanishes once again, and she goes back to smiling happily while stroking his face. “Now...now you belong to all of us...and we to you. There’s no need to hide your inner face any longer. We understand.”

Spock still seems unsure, but then he takes Layla’s hand in his and smiles. Not the slight hint of a smile or sardonic quirk of the lips you’d expect to see from Spock, but a huge, broad grin from ear to ear. “I love you...I can love you,” he says, and then he kisses her.

Hoo boy.

After the break, we get a quick Captain’s Log to recap:

“Captain’s Log, supplemental. We have been ordered by Starfleet Command to evacuate the colony on Omicron 3. However, the colony leader, Elias Sandoval, has refused all cooperation and will not listen to any arguments.”

Sure enough, we see Sandoval exiting the farmhouse, followed by McCoy and an extremely frustrated Kirk. “Captain, your arguments are very valid, but do they not apply to us,” Sandoval says, as calm as ever. He tries to walk off, but Kirk grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“My orders are to remove all the colonists,” he says, “and that’s exactly what I intend to do with or without your help.”

“Without, I should think,” Sandoval says, and strolls off, leaving Kirk standing there fuming.

Sulu and Kelowitz come walking up to report that they’ve checked out everything and it all seems normal, except for the missing animals. Of course, they also both said they had no idea what to look for in the first place, so maybe take that with a grain of salt. Kirk tells them about the evacuation orders, and says he wants landing parties to start gathering the colonists and preparing them to leave. And by the way, where did Spock and DeSalle go? Sulu says they haven’t seen either one in some time, but McCoy says DeSalle was going to examine some native plants he found. Native plants, huh? I think we can guess what happened to DeSalle.

Since Spock still hasn’t reported in, Kirk gives him a call. Or tries to, at least—Spock doesn’t pick up. On the other end of the line, we see why that is: Spock's communicator is laying abandoned on the ground, while Spock himself, now dressed in the same horrible green jumpsuit as the colonists, is stretched out on the grass with Layla, watching clouds. The communicator beeps away while Spock happily describes how one of the clouds looks like a dragon. "I've never seen a dragon," Layla says. BEEP BEEP. "I have." BEEP BEEP. "On Barengarius 7." BEEP BEEP. "But I've never stopped to look at clouds before." BEEP BEEP. "Or rainbows." BEEP BEEP. "You know, I can tell you exactly why one appears in the sky, but considering its beauty has always been out of the question." BEEP BEEP.

"Not here," Layla says (beep beep), and they smile dreamily at each other before going into another makeout session. Meanwhile, Kirk is still on the line, and not getting any happier about it. Layla finally picks up the communicator and holds it up for Spock, who takes a break from kissin' to say, "Yes, what did you want?"

Naturally, this throws both Kirk and McCoy for a loop. While McCoy stands there with a "what the fuck" look on his face, Kirk takes a moment to recover and then demands, "Spock, is that you?"

"Yes, captain, what did you want?"

"Where are you?"

"...I don't believe I want to tell you."

[ID: Three shots of Kirk and McCoy standing in front of the farmhouse, Kirk holding his communicator while McCoy looks on. Kirk has a stunned expression on his face and looks around with his mouth open, trying to figure out what to say.]

Kirk plows on ahead, telling Spock that, whatever the hell he thinks he's doing, he's got orders: they're getting the colonists out, and Spock is to meet back at the settlement in ten minutes.

"No, I don't think so," Spock says casually. "You don't think so, what?" "I don't think so, sir."

Kirk has to take a moment after that one. It's rather amazing that McCoy's made it this far into the conversation without saying anything himself. Presumably he's just in shock. Eventually Kirk tells Spock to report in immediately, but by now Spock and Layla have gone back to kissing, leaving the communicator open but abandoned in the grass once more.

"That didn't sound at all like Spock, Jim," McCoy says, putting in his bid for the Enterprise’s bi-weekly Massive Understatement contest.

"No, it--I thought you said you might like him if he mellowed a little."

"I didn't say that!"

"You said that."

"Not exactly,” McCoy protests, and then somewhat grudgingly adds, “He might be in trouble.”

I'm sure McCoy did say that, or something like it, but "I hope Spock has his brain taken over by alien spores" was presumably not where he was going with it. He obviously sees this sudden change of behavior as something to be concerned about--even moreso than Kirk, who seems more irritated than anything. But then, it's only been a couple episodes since McCoy had his own run-in with an alien influence making people act a lot more mellow than usual, and he didn't enjoy that experience at all, so it's not surprising that "trouble" is his first thought here.

Kirk tells McCoy to take over the landing party detail and start getting the colonists up to the ship, and to make sure the party works in teams of two, with nobody being left alone. Meanwhile, Kirk himself takes Sulu and Kelowitz and heads off to find Spock, using the open frequency from Spock's communicator as a homing signal. They follow a dirt path out of the main settlement and soon find said communicator, laying open and abandoned in the grass just off the path. As Kirk picks it up, they hear laughter nearby, and Sulu points in astonishment further down the path, where Layla is watching Spock dangle upside-down from a tree branch like a kid on a jungle gym.

[ID: A shot of Spock and Layla among some trees at the end of a dirt path. Layla is standing on the ground and holding hands with Spock, who is hanging upside-down by his knees from a large tree branch, laughing.]

For a moment all Kirk can do is stare weakly at this weird spectacle. Then he collects himself with a stern AHEM and marches over like a principal about to deliver some very serious detention.

Meanwhile, back at the main hub of the colony, the landing party seems to have gotten well underway with preparations for departure, with several colonists and crewmen piling up luggage and equipment in the middle of a field while McCoy stands nearby overseeing everything, a job I’m sure he’s enjoying since we all know administrative work is McCoy’s favorite thing. Then DeSalle arrives, carrying a couple of the spore flowers and tells McCoy to take “a good, close look” at them, because they’re very interesting. McCoy steps forward to check them out right before the scene cuts away again, leaving us with little doubt as to what’s about to happen next.

During that little interim, Kirk and his crew have made it over to where Spock and Layla are cavorting. Spock just grins happily at Kirk, clearly not bothered one bit, even as Kirk asks if Spock’s out of his mind. He didn’t report to Kirk, he says, because...he didn’t want to.

Kirk glances back and forth between Spock and Layla, who’s standing there smiling rather smugly, and tells Layla that she’ll need to come get ready to evacuate with the rest of the colonists. Spock cheerfully says that there’s not going to be any evacuation. “But perhaps,” he adds, “we should go and get you straightened out.”

That really doesn’t bode well, but rather than ask just what Spock means by that, Kirk tells Sulu that Spock is under arrest in Sulu’s custody until they get back to the ship. Which will certainly work out well because it’s not like Spock is strong enough to chuck Sulu all the way across the field barehanded or anything. Not that Spock seems especially perturbed about being under arrest; instead he just shrugs, drops down from the tree, and says, “Very well. Come with me,” before heading off across the field, leaving else to follow in confusion. That’s how you arrest someone, right?

Of course, Spock leads them right to another group of spore flowers, which the group stops and stares at obligingly for a moment. Then the flowers explode a bunch of spores at them. Somehow, even though he’s standing right next to Sulu and Kelowitz, Kirk manages to totally avoid getting any spores up his sinuses, while the other two are immediately affected. “Yes...I see now,” Sulu says blissfully, with that trademark Very High grin that George Takei does so well. “Of course we can’t remove the colony. It’d be wrong.”

Kirk grabs him by the shoulders—Kirk’s go-to method for snapping people out of it--but when this somehow fails to bring Sulu back to his right mind, all Kirk can do is say that he doesn’t know what these plants are or how they work, but “you’re all going back to the settlement with me, and those colonists are going aboard the ship.” This stern proclamation has absolutely no effect on anyone. The whole group just stands there happily watching Kirk stomp back toward the colony. “I can see the captain is going to be difficult,” Spock remarks.

Kirk’s day isn’t about to get any better, because upon making it back to the colony he’s greeted by McCoy, who we can immediately tell is under the influence as well because his accent is absolutely out of control. It’s so thick even the subtitles pick up on it.

[ID: A screenshot of McCoy walking through a meadow with his communicator out, saying, "Sho’nuf."]

“Hiya, Jimmy boy!” McCoy very happily says to a very unhappy Kirk. “Hey, I’ve taken care of everything. Now all y’all gotta do is just relax. Doctor’s orders!” With a very resigned look, Kirk asks how many plants McCoy’s beamed up to the ship, and McCoy says it must be going on a hundred by now.

So Kirk beams up to the ship and heads right to the bridge, where he tells Uhura to put him through to Admiral Komak at Starfleet, though what he expects Komak to do about all this I don't know. But it’s too late. Uhura turns around to show that she’s smiling as happily as everyone else, and says, “Oh, I’m sorry Dave, I mean, captain. I can’t do that.” She’s short-circuited all the ship’s communications, except for ship-to-surface, since they’ll need that for a little while yet. Then she leaves, pausing in the door of the lift to tell Kirk that it’s really all for the best.

Kirk stands there seething for a moment, then stomps over to grab a plant that’s been left in Spock’s chair. He throws it across the bridge, and the camera lingers ominously on it as Kirk heads back into the lift.

Things aren’t any better on the rest of the ship. Kirk soon finds a long line of crewmembers of all different shirt colors, patiently waiting to transport down to join the colony. Out of what I can only assume is some desperate futile hope that someone will follow his orders if he just keeps trying, Kirk orders them all to go back to their stations at once. Unsurprisingly, they all ignore him. Kirk points out to one of the redshirts that this is MUTINY! but it doesn't get him very far.

[ID: A gif showing a young white man with brown hair wearing a redshirt as he says, "Yes, sir, it is." The camera then zooms in very dramatically on Kirk's stunned face.]

So...they’re all going down to join the colony? All four hundred thirty of them? Or four hundred twenty-nine, I guess, if Kirk refuses to join the fun. That’s almost ten times the amount of people the colony currently has in it. That seems like it could present a bit of a problem, because if you’ll recall DeSalle told Kirk earlier that right now the colony’s growing enough food to feed their current population, with little left over. How are they going to handle such a large and sudden influx into their population? Do they have housing for all these people? Or are they just all going to eat dirt and sleep on the ground because they’re all too high to notice anyway?

After we’ve had a commercial break to contemplate this shocking turn of events, Kirk takes some time out to give vent to his feelings in a captain’s log:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.5. The pod plants have spread spores throughout the ship, carried by the ventilation system. Under their influence, my crew is deserting to join the Omicron colony, and I can't stop them. I don't know why I have not been infected, nor can I get Doctor McCoy to explain the physical, psychological aspects of the infection."

And indeed, just in case we had any doubt, we then see McCoy strolling through the field and happily telling Kirk, “I’m not interested in any physical, psychological aspects, Jim-boy. We all perfectly healthy down here.” Kirk grumbles about how much he’s been hearing about things being perfect lately. “I bet you’ve even grown your tonsils back.” “Sho’nuf!”

Kirk tries desperately to get McCoy to do something to figure these spores out—run a blood test, take a scan, type the symptoms into WebMD, something, anything—but McCoy is more interested in rambling on about mint juleps.  Meanwhile, back in the farmhouse, Sandoval’s having tea with Spock while they talk about how nearly everyone’s beamed down from the ship and things are “proceeding quite well.” Kirk storms in and demands to know where McCoy’s gotten to, and Spock says he went off to make that mint julep. Which could prove quite difficult unless this tiny half-assed farm colony has somehow managed to set up a working distillery around here somewhere, but Kirk’s got bigger concerns right now than where McCoy’s going to get his bourbon.

Sandoval wants to know why Kirk won’t join them in their private, spore-sponsored paradise. Kirk asks where these spores came from, anyway, and Spock exposits that there’s no way to know—they just drifted through space until they arrived at this planet, which is perfect for them because it turns out they actually thrive on Bertold rays. The plants act as a repository for the spores until they can find a human—or half-Vulcan—body to inhabit. No explanation is forthcoming as to how Spock knows any of this.

Spock and Sandoval insist that the planet is “a true Eden” with belonging and love and no needs or wants for anyone, but Kirk is skeptical. “No wants, no needs. We weren’t meant for that. None of us. Man stagnates if he has no ambition, no desire to be more than he is.” Of all the things wrong with this situation I’m not sure “BEING TOO HAPPY IS BAD FOR YOU” is the take I would go with, but okay. Spock says that Kirk doesn’t understand, but he’ll come around...sooner or later.

Kirk, disgusted with this whole conversation, goes back to the ship. The bridge is dark, silent, and utterly empty. We get a slow pan of the blinking lights and displays of the consoles, with no one left to man them. Kirk walks over to his chair, hits the intercom, and starts calling one part of the ship after another, with no response from any of them. With nothing else left to do, he sits down in his chair and starts glumly recording a captain’s log so angsty it could be a LiveJournal entry:

"Captain's Log, Stardate 3417.7. Except for myself, all crew personnel have transported to the surface of the planet. Mutinied. Lieutenant Uhura has effectively sabotaged the communications station. I can only contact the surface of the planet. The ship...can be maintained in orbit for several months, but even with automatic controls, I cannot pilot her alone. In effect, I am marooned here. I'm beginning to realize...just how big this ship really is, how quiet. I don't know how to get my crew back, how to counteract the effect of the spores. I don't know what I can offer against...paradise."

Hold on hold on HOLD ON what do you MEAN the ship can be maintained in orbit for several months? Every time someone takes their hands off the controls for five seconds we get told that the orbit is decaying and they’re gonna plummet into some hapless planet within a few hours at most but now all of a sudden it’s fine to hang out up there for several months? MAKE UP YOUR MIND.

Kirk gets up to go sit at the helm, just to get a change of scenery mid-mope, and as he finishes his log/rant the camera slowly pans down to reveal the spore flower that he chucked across the bridge earlier. Which is weird because we just got a wide shot of the bridge and that flower definitely wasn’t there then.

[ID: Two shots. The first is a wide shot showing Kirk alone on the empty, darkened bridge, preparing to sit down at the helm. There is nothing in on the floor in front of the helm. The second shot is a closer shot of Kirk sitting at the helm with his chin in one hand, now with a large spore flower poking up in the front of shot.]

The flower promptly shoots Kirk in the face, and for a moment he just continues to sit there with spores in his hair and a “yeah, this might as well happen” expression. But then he slowly starts to smile, suddenly as happy as everyone else. Exactly why Kirk’s been unaffected by the spores up until now, even after hanging out for quite a while on a ship that’s supposedly been thoroughly contaminated by them, is never really explained. Maybe he's just on a lot of Zyrtec. But it seems even Kirk’s determination to not be happy can’t hold out against a point-blank spray in the face. He calls Spock to say that he finally understands now, which Spock is happy to hear. Kirk says he’ll be down just as soon as he packs up a few things, so Spock says he and Layla will wait for him at the beamdown point.

So Kirk goes off to his quarters to pack up a suitcase, the contents of which seem to mostly consist of uniform shirts. Apparently paradise for Kirk does not include one of those green jumpsuits, which, really, who can blame him. He opens a small vault by his bed and pulls out a couple of black cases, one of which he opens to reveal a medal. This seems to stir some sense of conflict because he sits down and stares at it for a long moment, but then puts it aside and heads to the transporter room, where he puts the suitcase on the platform and then prepares to set the controls.

But then Kirk hesitates, and stands there for a moment looking conflicted. Possibly he’s still having feelings about those medals, or maybe he’s having second thoughts about whether he packed enough shirts. In any case, he eventually exclaims, “No...No! I...can’t...LEAVE!” Then he punches the console for good measure.

Apparently this little emotional outburst is all it takes to cure the spores, because Kirk gasps a little, looks momentarily confused, and then seems to be back to his old self. “Emotions...violent emotions. Needs...anger,” he tells the empty room. “Captain’s log, supplemental. I think I’ve discovered the answer...but to carry out my plan entails considerable risk. Mr. Spock is much stronger than the ordinary human being.” Then he treats us to this remarkable line:

[ID: A shot of Kirk in profile at the transporter controls as he says, "Aroused, his great physical strength could kill."]

um

Down on the planet, Spock and Layla are still waiting at the beamdown point when Kirk calls Spock up and says he’s realized there’s some equipment on the ship that they’ll need for the colony, and he needs Spock’s help to get it all beamed down. Really, you’d think there’d be quite a lot of equipment on the Enterprise that a farming colony could make good use of, but I guess they’re really determined to stick to the whole no-technology approach. Despite this, Spock cheerfully accepts the explanation, gives Layla a quick smooch, and beams up.

But upon materializing, Spock is greeted not with a smiling Kirk ready to go move some equipment with his bro, but Kirk standing there holding some nonspecific heavy metal rod thing that he’s smacking threatening against his hand. “All right, you mutinous, disloyal, computerized half-breed,” he says, “we’ll see about you deserting my ship.”

Spock reacts to this bar-brawl-starter with nothing more than a nonplussed expression and polite correcting Kirk on his syntax. Kirk, determination unshaken, continues laying into him with a stream of insults that would have made that fucker from Balance of Terror go, “Whoa, hold on there a minute.” Undeterred by not being able to use any actual expletives, he compares Spock both to a machine and to various fairy-tale creatures, makes fun of his ears, and rounds it all off by having a go at the entire Vulcan race. He even insults Spock’s parents.

[ID: 1. A shot of Spock standing in the transporter room looking perplexed as Kirk, off-camera, says, "Whose father was a computer and his mother an encyclopedia?" 2. A gif from Monty Python and the Holy Grail of John Cleese as the French knight on the battlements yelling, "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"]

Spock stands there taking it all stoically for quite a while, even as the background music gets increasingly tense. He finally starts to crack when Kirk goes after Spock’s relationship with Layla, and when Kirk keeps going despite Spock angrily telling him, “That’s enough,” Spock finally flips out big time. You know what that means, it’s time for a STAR TREK FIGHT SCENE! This one’s got it all: close-up shots of the actors intercut with long shots of very obvious stunt doubles; cardboard props getting punched; even people picking up random unidentifiable bits of starship equipment that may or may not have ever been there before to use as weapons. The only thing we’re missing is Kirk doing some kind of weird wrestling move.

[ID: Three gifs showing a fight scene between Kirk and Spock. First we see a long shot where Kirk and Spock are clearly being played by stunt doubles, as Spock punches a metal rod Kirk is holding, bending it in half. He then punches Kirk in the jaw, sending him careening into the wall. Then a close-up of Nimoy and Shatner as Spock advances on Kirk and throws a punch but misses, denting the control panel in the wall behind Kirk. Kirk dodges out of the way towards the console, and Spock throws another punch that hits the side of the console. Then back to a long view with the stunt doubles as Spock throws Kirk into the opposite wall, which Kirk careens off of, falling on his back on the floor, while Spock picks up something resembling a square metal stool or stepladder and raises it over his head. Finally, we see Nimoy and Shatner again as Kirk lays on the floor looking up at Spock, raising the thing he's carrying over his head.]

We dramatically cut to black as Spock stands poised above Kirk, raising whatever-the-hell-that-thing-is over his head threateningly. Apparently the ad break gives him enough time to cool down, though, because instead of bringing the thing down on Kirk’s skull, he hesitates.

“Had enough?” Kirk asks. “I didn’t realize what it took to get under that thick hide of yours.”

Spock slowly lowers the thing, looking a bit regretful about having to do so. Kirk says he doesn’t know what Spock’s so mad about, anyway. “It isn’t every first officer who gets to belt his captain...several times.” Dude, you just stood there and unleashed a screed of personal and racial insults at your best friend here. A “sorry” probably wouldn’t go amiss here.

“You did that to me deliberately,” Spock realizes, and then realizes that the spores are gone. “I don’t belong anymore.” Kirk explains that since the spores are “benevolent and peaceful,” violent emotions overwhelm and destroy them—that’s the answer. Which...definitely makes sense, chemically speaking. Sure.

Spock, still looking pretty glum about all this, points out that Kirk’s method might have worked out alright for curing one person, but they’ve got over five hundred infected people down there, and trying to pick a fight with all of them probably isn’t going to go so well. But no worries, Kirk’s got another plan. He wants Spock to rig up a subsonic transmitter that they can hook up to the ship’s communications system and then broadcast to all the communicators. Spock says he can do that, but hesitates as Kirk turns to leave. “Captain. Striking a fellow officer is a court martial offense,” he points out.

Kirk mulls over that one for a moment. “We-ll...if we’re both in the brig, who’s gonna build the subsonic transmitter?” he says, and Spock concedes the point. Besides, it’s a bit late to be worrying about striking fellow officers now.

[ID: A gif from The Naked Time of Kirk and Spock standing in an Enterprise conference room. Kirk slaps Spock across the face, and Spock retaliates by backhanding Kirk so hard he is thrown across the table in the center of the room and falls onto the floor on the other side.]

But what with the insults and the punching and de-sporing and everything, it seems that something has clean slipped Spock’s mind: Layla’s still down there waiting for him to come back. As she stands around the field, McCoy wanders over and asks what’s up. When she tells him that she’s been out here for some time now waiting for Spock and Kirk to come back, he gentlemanly offers to fix that for her and calls the ship. Spock picks up, and Layla asks if everything’s okay up there.

With obvious discomfort, Spock tells her that yes, he’s...quite well. Layla, oblivious to anything being wrong, asks if she can come up there, because she wants to talk to him, and besides, “I’ve never seen a starship before.” Wait a minute, never seen a starship before? You’re on a planetary colony! What, did you drive here?

Spock asks if she’s still at the beamdown point, and if McCoy’s there. Layla says yes to both, so Spock tells her to give the communicator back to McCoy, since she won’t need it to transport, and he’ll have her beamed up in a few minutes. One might think that at this point they might take this easy opportunity to also beam up McCoy and get him cured (it shouldn’t be hard, McCoy is already 85% comprised of negative emotions to begin with), so he can start investigating these spores, just in case Operation Go For the Eardrums doesn’t work. But they don’t. Kirk awkwardly asks Spock if he’s sure about talking to Layla while she’s still spore’d, but Spock just nods and heads to the transporter room.

He beams Layla up, and she happily runs over to give him a hug—they’ve been parted ever so long, after all—but when he just stands there stiffly, not reacting at all, she slowly pulls back and says, “You’re no longer with us, are you?”

Spock says it was necessary. Layla begs him to come back to the planet and belong again, but he says he can’t. She starts crying and saying she loves him. "I said that six years ago, and I can't seem to stop repeating myself. On Earth, you couldn't give anything of yourself. You couldn't even put your arms around me. We couldn't have anything together there. We couldn't have anything together anyplace else. But we're happy here. I can't lose you now, Mr. Spock, I can't." Look, if the only time the relationship you want can possibly work out is when the other person is being mind-controlled by alien spores, I think it may be time to consider whether this is really a relationship you should be pursuing in the first place.

“I have a responsibility to this ship...to that man on the bridge,” Spock gently tells her. “I am what I am, Layla. And if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else’s.”

Layla soon realizes that all this anguish has resulted in her getting de-spore’d as well, and she’s not happy about it. “And this is for my own good?” she demands angrily. Well...yes, I mean, it is, but Spock doesn’t say that. Nor does he respond when she asks, “Do you mind if I say I still love you?” but she hugs him again anyway.

[ID: Layla tearfully embraces Spock and says, "You never told me if you had another name, Mr. Spock." Spock replies, "You couldn't pronounce it."]

ROMANCE

We’re obviously supposed to read this little story arc as the tragic tale of true love destined never to be, because Spock is only able to express his feelings for Layla under the influence of the spores. He has experienced paradise, but alas, he cannot linger there, and so on. It’s never set all that well with me, though. The problem is we never really get Spock’s side of the story and so it leaves open the question of how much he actually did want this relationship in the first place. Layla said earlier that “Mr. Spock’s feelings were never expressed to me” so evidently he never outright said “I love you but I can’t be with you” or anything of that sort to her. When they’re alone in the field before Spock gets spore’d he seems stiff, standoffish, awkward, and deflects all of her overtures with what appears to be discomfort, even annoyance. He clearly has no interest in talking about whatever history they had together, even when they’re all alone. For all that Layla goes on about how she can see a side of Spock that his crewmates don’t, we see interactions with those crewmates multiple times throughout the show that prove that Spock is perfectly capable of showing people that he cares about them, even if the ways he does it are usually a bit atypical. We don’t see any of that in his initial interactions with Layla.

If we accept the premise that the spores only make people act as they would if they had no inhibitions or fears holding them back, then yes, Spock saying he loves Layla after he’s been spore’d would indicate that he did secretly love her all along. The problem is that we know the spores make people do things that they would not ordinarily want to do. You think all of those four hundred thirty people on the Enterprise secretly longed for a quiet life among the soil but all chose to instead join the space navy for some reason? Should we believe Scotty is actually deep down perfectly okay with abandoning his beloved ship to a slowly decaying orbit? I doubt that Kirk has always harbored a subconscious desire to give up exploring the final frontier to pursue a peaceful agrarian lifestyle, but he very nearly does do just that. So the question of how much a relationship with Layla is what Spock “really” wanted seems to be a bit hazy.

Mind, I’m not saying this makes Layla an evil person who deliberately drugged Spock so she could have a relationship with him or anything like that. It’s clear throughout the episode that the spores induce those who are infected by them to spread them around to anyone nearby who’s not in the spore fandom yet, so there’s no reason to believe Layla would act as she did if she wasn’t under the influence herself. I just personally find it hard to buy into the tragic romance of a star-crossed relationship when the thing crossing the stars is that one of the participants is only enthusiastic about the whole thing when they’re not fully sober. It makes me question how much of their previous relationship really was Spock having feelings for Layla but being unable to express them, versus Layla projecting a lot of feelings onto him and writing off his disinterest or discomfort as denial.

Kirk and Spock go back to working on the signal, while Layla deals with her heartbreak by disappearing into thin air for the rest of the episode. Spock says that the sound they’re going to send out is on a frequency that won’t be heard so much as felt, but apparently it will be felt quite emphatically. Kirk compares it to putting itching powder on someone. Which may seem like another silly technobabble deus ex machina, but speaking from personal experience, driving someone into a frantic frustrated fit by playing an obnoxious noise just on the edge of hearing sounds totally legit. All they need to complete the sensory overload meltdown experience is find a way to simulate some flickering florescent lights and put tags on the backs of the uniform shirts.

And indeed, as the device starts to work, we see Sulu and DeSalle working in one of the fields—for a certain value of ‘working,’ anyway, they’re kind of just digging around aimlessly—when Sulu accidentally elbows DeSalle in the back. He apologizes, but DeSalle shoves him back, and before long they’re having a full-on brawl right there in the field, which can't be good for the crops. As the device on the ship hums away, two more crewmembers start their own fight over by the farmhouse, and when a third tries to break them up he promptly gets dragged into it as well.

The effects haven’t quite reached everyone just yet, though, as we see McCoy chillaxing under a tree with some unspecified concoction. Sandoval strolls up and says that he’s been thinking about what sort of work he could assign McCoy to. When McCoy protests that he does one kind of work and that’s doctorin’, Sandoval says that he’s not a doctor anymore—they don’t need any doctors here.

This does not go over well.

[ID: A gif showing McCoy reclining against a tree in a grassy meadow, a stalk of grass in one hand and a grass of something brown with several leafy stalks in it. Sandoval is standing over him. McCoy says, "Oh, no?" and then slowly stands up, tosses his grass stalk aside, looks Sandoval in the eye and says, "Would you like to see just how fast I can put you in a hospital?"]

Undeterred, Sandoval says that he’s the leader and he’ll be assigning McCoy whatever work he wants to, but when he tries to walk away McCoy pulls him back and snarls, “You’d better make me a mechanic. Then I can treat little tin gods like you.” Sandoval throws a punch at him, but McCoy dodges and whacks Sandoval in the stomach, putting him out flat on the ground. See, I told you it wouldn’t be hard to cure McCoy. Everyone else on the Enterprise was perfectly happy to give up their careers to go do a bit of light farming, but tell McCoy he can’t be a doctor anymore and no amount of spores are going to save you.

While Sandoval is busy rolling around on the ground, McCoy stands there looking confused for a moment, then—presumably having only just now noticed that instead of a mint julep he’s actually been drinking a coke with a bunch of cilantro in it—throws his drink aside and admits that he’s not sure why he just clobbered Sandoval. But Sandoval has other concerns for the moment. With a look of dawning horror familiar to all us chronic procrastinators, he abruptly realizes that they haven’t actually been doing anything all this time. “No accomplishments, no progress. Three years wasted. We wanted to make this planet a garden...”

McCoy points out that the colonists really will have to leave—they can’t survive here without the spores handling all that radiation for them. But the dream’s not over; the colonists could be relocated to start again somewhere a bit less deadly, if that’s what they want.

“I think I’d...I think we’d like to get some work done,” Sandoval muses. “The work we set out to do.”

McCoy calls Spock and says that Sandoval wants to talk to Kirk. Spock notes to Kirk that the crew are all starting to rather sheepishly call in by now. Sandoval tells Kirk that the colonists will fully cooperate with the evacuation now, and Kirk tells him to start making the preparations. Real ones, this time.

Sometime later, everyone’s back on the bridge getting ready to head out. McCoy reports that he’s examined all the colonists and they all remain in perfect health. “A fringe benefit left over by the spores.”

One would think that this would have been quite the eventful afternoon for the medical sciences, given that they just discovered spores with such incredible healing powers that they can make people regrow organs, and McCoy just confirmed that anything healed by the spores stays healed after the spores are gone. Sure, they’ve got some side effects, but Kirk’s already discovered a simple way to get rid of the things once they’re no longer needed. Strap someone to a bed, give em a facemask full of spores, let them lay there for a while having a nice buzz while they heal their cancer or whatever, then play an irritating noise at them until they sneeze the spores back out again. Boom. Done. You’ve solved medicine. Or, y’know, we could vacate the planet and never speak of it ever again, that works too.

Notably unmentioned by anybody during this little denouement is the fate of the other two settlements on the planet that Sandoval mentioned back near the beginning of the episode. The length of the timeskip isn’t specified, so it’s possible that the crew went and collected them as well in the interim, but we never get any details as to how that little adventure went, assuming that it did happen and that the Enterprise isn’t about to get halfway to the next starbase before Kirk realizes he forgot something.

As they watch the planet diminish behind them on the viewscreen, McCoy muses that this was “the second time man’s been thrown out of paradise.” Kirk disagrees. "No, no, Bones, this time we walked out on our own. Maybe we weren't meant for paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through--struggle, claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can't stroll to the music of the lute. We must march to the sound of drums."

Spock remains unimpressed by this bit of philosophizing. “Poetry, Captain. Nonregulation.” Kirk notes that they haven’t heard anything from Spock about this whole ordeal, since, y’know, that definitely seems like something Spock would want to talk about. He says he’s got little to say about Omicron Ceti 3.

[ID: A close-up of Spock on the bridge as he says, "Except that for the first time in my life...I was happy."]

oh my god someone needs therapy

On that INCREDIBLY CHEERFUL note, the Enterprise flies away and the episode ends.

It’s somewhat baffling to me that of all the quite reasonable objections available to the whole situation with the spores, the main problem that Kirk—and by extension, the episode—seems to have is that “the spores make things too EASY and mankind was meant to STRUGGLE!!!” I mean, effectively what we had going on here was people being drugged without their consent into a state that overwrote their own desires, ambitions, emotions and much of their individual personalities and replaced them with bland, happy conformity to a goal and lifestyle none of them actually chose. That seems a bit worse to me than “people weren’t working hard enough.” Kirk goes on and on about how the spores made things too easy, but what they really did was make people apathetic to whether they succeeded at anything or not. Sandoval’s horrified when he’s cured of the spores because the colonists had much different plans for their colony; far from making those plans easier, the spores made them impossible. The dreams and desires of the Enterprise crew for a life of exploration among the stars would have been forever unmet if they had permanently joined the colony, they just wouldn’t have been able to care. Kirk seems to believe that the ultimate evil of the spores is that they deprive people of ambition; to me it seems that the worse evil is that they deprive people of their individuality and their autonomy.

Then there’s the fact that while the spores make people happy and friendly, they also make them remarkably blasé about the well-being of anyone who isn’t part of their collective. They have to be—caring about whether someone else is upset or hurt would make them unhappy, after all. Spock and McCoy are completely unconcerned with the mounting distress of their best friend, and beyond peer pressuring him to get with the program and take the spores like everyone else, they don’t seem to much care if he remains the only unhappy person on the planet. The colonists seem completely unbothered by the fact that all the animals they brought with them died a rather grueling death by radiation poisoning. Everyone on the Enterprise is happy to abandon the ship and join the colony with no message left behind for Starfleet, with apparently not a thought to spare for any friends and family back home, who would only ever know that their loved ones disappeared into space never to be seen again.

Or at least, they would if things actually went according to plan, which they probably wouldn’t, because the spores also made everyone cheerfully oblivious to the idea that anything could potentially cause a problem or pose a threat to them. After all, if Kirk hadn’t had a recovery at the last minute, the Enterprise would have been left unmanned in orbit around the planet, with no way for anyone in the colony to get back onboard. Uhura also goes out of her way to make sure that they no longer have any off-planet communication. So it’s probably not going to be long before Starfleet notices that one of their prize starships has abruptly gone incommunicado, and I’m willing to bet they’d be a bit quicker on that investigation than they were about checking on a tiny backwater colony (although it is Starfleet, so who knows, really). And since they know exactly where the ship was headed on its last recorded mission, it probably won’t take them long to find it. If Starfleet sends another ship along to investigate quickly enough, they’ll find the abandoned Enterprise hanging out in orbit around the planet, and Kirk’s log clearly lays out what happened, so all the other ship has to do is figure out how to neutralize the spores and everyone’s going to get rescued from Omicron Ceti 3 pretty quickly whether they want to be or not.

If Starfleet doesn’t show up in time...Kirk says the ship can be “maintained in orbit” for several months, but then what? It can’t stay up there forever. Sooner or later, the orbit will decay and the ship’s going to crash into the planet, and if it crashes anywhere near one of the colonies, their magic healing powers are going to be put to the test. Also their magic agriculture powers--rich soil and mild weather is all well and good, but is that going to be enough to carry all those crops through the ensuing environmental effects of an impact that big? Especially since, as already mentioned, the colony has enough to feed them and that’s about it—so they really can’t afford to lose any crops for very long.

Sure, maybe the Enterprise wouldn’t crash close enough to any of the colonies to ruin them, but why take the risk? All they had to do was have a helmsman set it on a course out of orbit, then take a shuttlecraft back to the planet. Doesn’t occur to anyone, evidently. Nor do we see anyone bothering to bring any supplies or equipment from the ship to the colony, even though there’s gotta be lots of stuff up there that would be useful. All in all, it seems quite likely that Paradise would have eventually collapsed in on itself simply because the spores make people unable to pay attention to any potential threats or obstacles long enough to do anything about them.

So what’s the moral here? ‘Society can’t survive if everyone is stoned all of the time’? I mean, okay? Sure? Cool? Glad we sorted all that out.

That said, despite having ranted for the past nine hundred words about the weird moral, I’m not saying this episode is bad. As a serious point about human nature I don’t find it especially compelling—YMMV, but I just personally tend to side-eye stories that center around the idea of “wouldn’t it be awful if we all had it too easy??”--but as fifty minutes of extremely Star Trek-y silliness it’s glorious. We’ve got Spock hanging from a tree and talking about dragons while making out in the grass, McCoy going full Georgia and wandering about with something he thinks is a mint julep, Kirk stomping around in increasing agitation as he tries to get some sense out of somebody and then making emo log entries while he sits on the bridge alone...it’s great.

The original draft of this episode apparently had the romantic subplot be for Sulu, who would have been motivated to stay with Layla after having been diagnosed with a serious medical condition that was cured by the spores, kind of like the eventual plot with McCoy in For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky. D.C. Fontana rewrote the story to focus on Spock, since if you have an episode about something that causes a strong emotional reaction, throwing Spock and his ever-present internal conflict into the mix is kind of the most immediately obvious way to generate some pathos and drama. The spores originally granted those affected with them telepathic abilities, enabling them to link with everyone else who’d been spore’d and form a hivemind. There are some traces of this in the final episode with spore’d people talking about “joining us” and “being one of us” and so on, but without the telepathy part it just kind of makes it sound like they’re in a cult. Also, the cure for the spores would have been consuming alcohol, so presumably in that draft McCoy never got infected.

For the purposes of the Trek Tally I’m going to count the spores as a Space Disease, which might be broadening the umbrella of that term a bit but hey, close enough. Next time we’ll be looking for life, Jim, but not as we know it, in The Devil in the Dark.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Apostate 1

Warnings: violence, further tags to be added in next chapter.

This is dark!(hydra!)Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You notice something about Steve.

Note: Okey dokey. Here’s the long awaited Hydra Steve! There will be a second part and this will be reblogged with tags as well. Thanks to everyone for the encouragement. If y’all want the inspo for this one, here it is. Thank you. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It started with a look. Funny how the eyes could betray so much; elation, devastation, knowing. The dilation of a pupil, the glare of an iris as it caught the light, the dullness that could mute feigned surprise. 

Steve was a bad actor, or perhaps it was an unusual slip. Perhaps there was more to the performance; a secret harboured so long it grew light and easy. That it no longer took great effort to carry.

Or maybe you just looked over at the right moment. Or the wrong, depending on your perspective. He blinked and nodded as he turned back to Tony. He pretended to listen intently as the man stood in his broken armor and recounted his struggle. Hydra agents had destroyed the vault before he could secure it. Your mission was both successful and catastrophic.

While you might have cut another head off the snake, it’s venom remained. All you achieved was the ruin of a city block. The collateral of property and even people. None had died but many were wounded. 

You shook your head as Tony told of how the operative slammed the door closed and the muffled explosion saw to the erasure of thousands of documents. Those which could see the decapitation of Hydra and cauterise the necks before they could heal. But he was too late. You all were. It was as if they knew. As if they expected you.

You hung your head as the image of the golden avenger lingered in your head. He didn’t look very disappointed, only indifferent. You thought of the mission, his hair still askew and the dust still stained all of you as it mingled with your sweat. 

You recalled how Steve appeared so conveniently from behind a pillar after your singular struggle with an enemy. Almost as if he had been watching. As if he were awaiting the outcome before he made his entrance. As if either way it unfolded, it would be a victory for him. 

You must’ve been crazy. You were tired and the adrenaline hazed your mind. The win laced with such loss was hard to swallow. You were desperate for a reason and you could have pinned it on any in the room. It was always hard to accept that it just hadn’t gone to plan.

You peeked at him again. He rubbed his forehead and yawned. The lines deepened below his hairline and around his eyes. No, you must’ve imagined his apathy. It was so unlike him. It was your own subconscious telling you you hadn’t done enough. Your own doubts aimed at another to avoid your own culpability.

“Sorry, am I boring our resident centenarian?” Tony turned on Steve as he closed his mouth. “Where were you? I was calling for you.”

“I was doing my job, same as you,” Steve stood straight and regained his couple inches over Tony. “Seeing to my team, as I always do.” He looked to you. “Isn’t that right?”

You were caught by surprise. You gulped and looked around. Bruce and Clint were worn and barely seemed awake as they stood against the wall, Natasha shook her head and grumbled. “Tony, come on.”

“Come on what?” Tony spat. “He’s standing here like nothing happened. You need to lay down, old man?”

“Tony, it was all of us down there. We all came up short.” Natasha argued. “Hydra… they always have an exit plan. At least, we cut out part of the infection.”

Tony nodded and shook his head. He turned his back on the team and scoffed. “With nothing to show for it.”

“With no lives lost,” She insisted. “With an awareness that they are infiltrating our major cities. With an idea of where to look next.”

“Chicago? Boston? Los Angeles?” He sniffed and pushed his hair back. “Where do we start, Romanoff? There’s six of us and how many of them?”

“Fury will--”

“Fury will complain about paperwork, about marching blindly against an unseen enemy,” Tony barked as he spun back. “Fury isn’t what he used to be. Maybe if we had the files, he’d budge but without them, we got nothing but breath.”

“Tony, she’s right,” Steve intoned. “We know where to look now. We’re not blind.”

“Where do we look, Cap?” Tony turned on him. “Hmm?”

“Right in front of us.” Steve’s jaw twitched. “They’ll be scattering, here in New York. We keep an eye out at the airports. See who’s trying to run and where. We go from there.”

Tony clamped his lips together and sighed. He shrugged and dismissed all of you with a flick of his hand as he crossed to the door. His metal suit retracted all at once and revealed the sweaty black clothes beneath. Showed him to be the man he was; exhausted and wilting.

“Keep your eye out then, Steve,” He snarled. “If you can keep ‘em open long enough.”

You all stood and watched him go silently. When the door slammed you glanced at each other. Tony’s frustration had mounted in the past months. As cells were uncovered in his city, you all witnessed his growing hopelessness. This was just another dent in his armour. Perhaps the deepest.

It was just as the myth went, you cut off one head and another grew. Soon enough, you’d find yourself in the teeth of one or the other.

💀

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out of place. Most of all, you couldn’t push away the thought that it was Steve. You kept replaying the scene in your head. A whole week later and it flashed behind your eyes every time they met his. 

He hadn’t been concerned to find you sprawled across the ground with scraps of concrete and metal around you. A dead man draped over you as his life bled out. And you thought of the yawn that riled Tony. Even as the accusations flew, Steve wasn’t bothered. Not enough to get defensive, just enough to try to coax Tony onward. Past this blip. Past this misstep.

So you got in your head to follow him. At first, you kept to his movement in the Tower. His meetings with Fury, with Stark, his little run-ins with his respective colleagues, his training. The usual. Nothing to fuel your suspicions, only to further dismantle your paranoia. 

Yet it lingered.

Then he left for a mission. You couldn’t follow him there, you had your own work. So you passed the days he was gone in paperwork and reconnaissance around the city. Your thoughts of the first avenger faded and a semblance of normality returned until he did. 

You saw him in the halls with Fury. The General was visibly unhappy, not that he was ever overtly cheerful. You turned the corner before you could reach them and listened. Even when the matters should be private, Fury’s anger often precluded him from a hushed conversation. Neither men seemed concerned of being overheard.

“This is all you have to show? It’s nonsense.” Fury said.

“It’s coded,” Steve replied dully. “Don’t you have a team that can crack it? You’re telling me Tony in all his genius can’t decipher a few backwards letters.”

“It’s a single sentence, Rogers,” Fury snorted. “Maybe even half of one. This isn’t a cryptogram.”

“It’s what I got,” Steve huffed. “You sent me in alone, what did you expect?”

“You’ve marched into worse on your own,” Fury growled. “And done more than a single fucking slip of paper.”

“Rich.” Steve retorted. “Tony watches as a whole vault of intelligence is nuked and I bring you back something, anything, and I get lectured like a child.”

“Tony called for back-up, several times, we have the logs, Captain,” Fury sneered. “Including those of your radio silence.”

The air was still as neither man spoke. You could barely breathe. 

“I wasn’t the only one out there,” Steve said quietly. “I wasn’t the only one with a radio. I’m not the only one who lost.”

“But you’re their leader,” Fury returned. “So you need to start acting like it and get your shit together.”

The words were punctuated by sudden footsteps. Fury’s boots clicked away as a shadow neared you. You slid along the wall and dipped into a closet as Steve’s soles scuffed closer. You pulled the door closed quietly and watched through the crack as he passed. He swore under his breath as he punched his own hand.

He stopped, just beyond your door and his steps came to a stop. You heard a soft rustle and swallowed as you listened. The faint ring of a line trying to connect. It stopped and Steve’s voice startled you as it cut through the air.

“Chicago.” Was the only word he said. 

Your brows drew together and the low hum a voice replying in a single syllable was followed by the bloop of the call ending. Steve let out another heavy breath and continued down the hall. Your heart raced as you waited several minutes before emerging. 

What the fuck was that?

💀

Steve once told you not to bring your work home with you. You thought it was laughable coming from him and it still was. You stood across the street from his building. You followed him there from the tower. It was difficult to tail a target trained to look over his shoulder at all times.

You hid in the mouth of the alley, pressed to the wall as you stared at the front doors. What were you going to do? Watch them all night? Wait until the morning when he left? It seemed all a bit preposterous now that you stood there. This was Steve Rogers. A war hero. The first avenger. The saviour of the world.

As the streetlights flipped on, you checked the time and resigned yourself to fleeing with tail tucked. You shouldn’t have followed him. You were being silly. You let your imagination get the best of you. Read into a yawn and a slight tic. Maybe you were due for a vacation.

Then the doors opened and you fell back into shadows. Steve wore a plain grey hoodie and track pants. He stretched his legs before he hopped down the steps. You watched as he bounced in place before setting off in a jog. He was that type. Running around after dark to clear his head. 

You waited until he reached the end of the street before you stepped up to the curb. You stared after him as he disappeared around the corner and you crossed between the cars parked along the road. You strolled up the stairs to the front door of the apartment and swept through the door. You scrolled through the buzzer directory until you found him. Not so obvious as the rest; the initials S.R. beamed back at you on the screen. You took note of the apartment number and walked back out.

You checked your phone as you came around to the fire escape. You figured at least twenty minutes before he returned, likely longer. Closer to an hour, if anything. You took a running start and hopped up to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. You hauled yourself onto the metal platform and started up the steps. You stopped at the first empty apartment.

You tapped on the window and waited. Nothing. You tried the window but it was locked. You took out your pocket knife and poked along the frame. You jammed it between the wood and heard the metal clasp snap. You slid it up carefully and slipped inside, closing it quietly behind you.

You found your way to the door and into the hall. Another floor up and several apartments away. You raced up the stairwell and came out on the next level. You counted your way to his door and listened through the wood. You stirred around in your purse and pulled out the multi tool gifted you by Tony. 

Don’t take your work home with you, the words echoed again.

You glanced around before you picked the lock swiftly. You eased the door open, careful not to grind the aged hinges. You walked lightly down the short hall to the living room. Frame pictures along the wall placed precisely, a leather chair and patterned couch more suited to another era. No television, only a shelf of books and aged magazines.

You stopped. What exactly were you looking for? You edged around the coffee table and examined every inch of the room. Nothing out of place. You passed by the kitchen and down the hall that led to the bathroom and bedroom respectively. The glow of a screen came from the latter. You frowned. The laptop shone beside the small lamp on the desk.

You looked back into the living room and took a breath. You tapped your toe softly before you entered. You went to the desk and clicked the touch pad. The screensaver washed away and you stared at a plain desktop. Not even a password. It felt all too obvious. Too easy.

The hairs on your neck stood. You peeked over your shoulder. Nothing. You turned back to the laptop and opened the explorer. The files revealed nothing but encrypted Shield docs. You clicked out as a notification popped up in the corner. An email with no sender. You opened it before you could think.

It was gibberish. Coded words. You shook your head and brought up the camera on your phone. You took a picture of the message and and marked it unread before you closed it. You held onto your cell and retreated. 

You left the way you came, mindful to lock the door in your stead. You took a breath before you headed down the stairs and wove your way to the rear exit. You came out by a dumpster and set off behind the row of brick buildings. You dialed your phone as you turned into the alley that led to the next street. It went to voicemail and you tsked.

“Fury. We should talk. Call me as soon as you can.” You didn’t know what else to say so you hung up. 

You looked to the front of the alley, the few dark figures that passed by. You would head home and wait for the call. You suspected your night was far from over. You started forward and your phone vibrated. You kept your step and lifted the screen to answer. 

You were suddenly off your feet as an arm wrapped around you and a hand batted your phone to the ground. You were spun against the brick wall and crushed by an unyielding weight behind you, a knee against your thigh.

“Find anything good?” Steve asked and you tried to turn your head. He caught it and slammed it into the wall, sending stars through your vision. “Too bad you won’t get to share it.”

His thick arm snaked around your throat and he squeezed. You kicked out as you struggled and pushed both of you away from the wall. He barely stumbled as he kept you locked in and your head began to pound.

“S-Steve…” You rasped out.

“I told you, don’t take your work home with you…” His hot breath was the last thing you felt as your vision went black.

[curiosityunsated]

I’m it even sure what this is. I just kind of needed some hurt/comfort and my Fíli-Muse always seems to be down for that ♥️

Please be aware there is injury in this one shot, and referenced violence. If these are triggers for you, I want you to know before you read further. But everyone is okay, no lasting damage.

The room was silent.

Time hung around them in quiet suspense, and Poppy wasn’t sure how long she had stood there. Her stone sense had been getting better, having lived in Erebor since its reclamation- but it was failing her. It couldn’t have been more than a few moments at most, but it felt as though this age could have come and gone around them. The fireplace, though it remained lit, didn’t pop and crackle as it normally did; it was as though the logs had sensed the tension and were so inclined to be cowed by it.

Poppy felt rooted to her spot, one hand clutched around her bedpost to steady her as she kept weight off her ankle. She could feel fresh blood seeping out of the corner of her mouth. She didn’t want to know what the rest of her looked like, feeling it was enough. The sharp stabs of pain in her ribs that throbbed with every quiet, careful breath; and the chill on her shoulder where her shirt had been torn at the seam.

No, she didn’t want to know what she looked like. She knew she must have looked frightful, and that made this all the worse.

She watched from her place at the end of the bed as Fíli remained stock still in the doorway, eyes carefully cataloguing and assessing each injury and affront. If he was breathing, Poppy couldn’t see it. She had only ever seen him this quiet in the moments just before going after his target- a deer, orcs, it didn’t matter. Fíli was very good hunting.

Never before had she been on the receiving end of this particular brand of his scrutiny. She couldn’t say she enjoyed it very much.

And then he moved. One, two- five carefully measured steps until he was right in front of her.

He cradled her jaw between both hands, and her eyes burned at the familiar gentleness. When he rubbed away the blood from the corner of her mouth with a thumb, something inside her broke.

She closed her eyes against the tears, breath hitching. Fíli immediately began moving once more, wrapping her into a hug and humming at her. She buried her face into the thick fur of his jacket and let him press kisses into her hair.

It was a little while longer before she had calmed enough to look back up at him again.

“Who did this to you, ghivashel?” He asked. His words weren’t unkind, but they were determined. On the hunt, indeed.

So she told him everything she had told Oin while he had wrapped up her ankle and prodded her ribs. Everything she had told Dwalin while he was taking her statement.

A dwarf, unhappy with she and Bilbo’s installation within the Royal Family, had caught her alone at the top of the battlement staircase (here, Fíli made a noise of disgruntlement- she knew very well he didn’t like her up there, and he knew very well she needed to come out from under their rock every once in a while), and after sneering at her had backhanded her and tried to make a grab at her braid. She had jerked away from him, only to stumble and fall down the stairs.

Her braid had remained unscathed, though the rest of her was a little worse for wear.

Fíli’s eyes darkened with every word until they were molten with anger.

“He won’t get away with this.” He promised sharply, turning as if to storm off and apprehend the dwarf singlehandedly.

Poppy grabbed at his arm, swaying on her good foot. He was immediately focused on her once more, steadying her.

“Stay. Just, please stay.” She whispered, not wanting to think about the pain or the hostile dwarf. Fíli hesitated, and Poppy watched the internal battle echo in his eyes- to find the dwarf responsible, or stay and comfort her?

He stayed.

The rest of the evening was spent bundled in fur, tucked against her lion and visiting with whatever concerned well wishers came by. Bombur and his small brood were especially welcome, as Poppy found it very hard to be sad or worried under a (gentle) cuddle pile of pebbles.

She pitied the dwarf who had attacked her, really. She wasn’t sure there’d be enough of him left to prosecute once the Company was finished.

[annhellsing]

Your Shape.

notes: never in my life thought i’d write an original thing again, but i had a lot of fun!!! i was feeling super overwhelmed and decided to put my maladaptive daydream about a meet-cute with a mysterious entity in a forest into words. rating: teen, we stay tame in these woods pairing: mysterious entity boyfriend idk / reader word count: 3,286

The shape in the forest wants to know if you are warm enough. Moonlight falls over the crown of your head, so yellow and full as to be a parody of sunshine. This late in September, with the harvest coming soon, it is easy to confuse the two.

But the shape does not ask, he does not want to scare you. Your shoulders are slouched, cheeks pressed to your palms to hide tears and sobs. He wants to know if you are unhappy, too. He imagines you have already given him a fair answer, despite not having spoken at all.

A dirt-caked hand curls around the trunk of a tree. The shape leans out of the dark, eyes aglow and horns in danger of bumping on a branch overhead. He ducks a bit, takes a careful step forward. If he were anyone else, the twig under his foot might have snapped and made a sound. But there is an understanding between them, an old promise. The only noise in the night is of your crying.

“It’s too much,” you whisper, half-wailing around the air being pushed from your lungs. You press a hand over your mouth and for a moment, all is quiet. 

The shape decides he does not like that at all. You are unhappy, he’s sure of it, so why not express it?

“What is?” he asks, compelled to speak when before he had stayed silent. You were not crying before, he rations. You did not need help then as you do now.

You turn at the sound of his voice, it is as cold and as full as the moon in the sky. It belongs there, that voice, between the trees. You peer into the dark, not afraid of what might be speaking, but why. Creatures are not uncommon, it is their motivations you have been taught to fear.

A breeze picks up, pushing cool air at your hot cheeks. The feeling is almost pleasant, it’s accompanied by the sound of rustling leaves. Or perhaps of footsteps from your newfound companion. 

He does not walk as a human might, though he is shaped like one. With the grass, too, he has an understanding and his gait is as noiseless and natural as the way that he speaks. You stare up, up, up at him, craning your neck until you find his face.

It is a handsome face, which does not immediately set you at ease. You see the outline of his head and shoulders, framed by two horns extending back against the starlit sky. But the rest of him is a mystery. It disappears into the shadows that knit in a circle around the glade.

“Everything,” you answer with honesty, for it is the best policy.

“I can understand, then, why you are upset,” he replies. 

Your sweater scratches your cheeks as you wipe away tears. But you are very careful to keep one eye open and fixed on the shape, the visitor. It is not very smart to do more than blink in their company.

Still, you make noise. Soft sounds of life, of breath as you try to stifle sobs. Crying gets you nowhere, you remember, especially not with an audience.

“How long have you been watching me?” you ask, careful not to sound accusatory. You are not accusing him of anything, you are only curious.

“I did not mean to infringe on your privacy,” he returns.

“This forest is your home,” you reason. The shape gives a slow shake of his horned head.

“It is home to everyone,” he says, “especially to those who need somewhere safe to cry.”

“Thank you,” you nod, “but have not answered me.”

“Longer than you would be comfortable with,” he replies, “I am sorry.”

“That’s a little vague,” you say.

“Not to me,” he says, “I have seen you here before. Not often, but I have.”

“Oh,” you pass your sleeve over your left eye once more, “I meant tonight, but I appreciate the truth.”

It’s becoming easier to control the way your chest moves. The compulsive need to breathe quickly slows with your heart rate. You are not calm, but you are managing.

“You looked happy before,” he says, “the last time you were here.”

“The last time I was here, things were---” you sigh, dropping your hand and your head. Though you remember very suddenly the dangers of doing so. But when your eyes return quickly to the shape’s again, you notice no change in his appearance. “They were different.”

“They were better?” he asks. Defeated, you nod.

“I am so tired,” you let out a slow breath.

“If you slept here,” he begins, “no one else would bother you. That is a promise.”

“And you keep your promises,” you state, knowing better than to insult him by phrasing that as a question.

“I do,” he says, “the grass is comfortable, the trees keep out most of the rain. Every night I have known life, I have spent it on the floor of a forest.”

“That sounds nice,” you admit. But you are not so foolish as to blindly trust visitors. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Is it very difficult to be there?” he cocks his head to the side, the moonlight falling on a sharp cheekbone. A shadow pools there, you stare with more curiosity than perhaps you ought. The shape doesn’t seem to mind.

“It is,” you reply, “it’s quite lonely, too. Even when I’m spoken to, I feel alone.”

The visitor hums, the sound like the wind against tree boughs. Could he understand?

“I am here,” he says, “for what it is worth.”

You pause, considering his eyes that have not left yours once. Not even to blink. They are a strange colour, glassy but focused very intently on the curve of your face. They look, you consider, like the yellow moon that hangs so close to the edge of the forest.

Round and wide and curious, he stares at you. Not as one might stare at an insect, but as an interesting person.

“So am I,” you reply. And a hesitant smile of your own joins his.

“You have family,” he says, “friends who love you?” and the question at the end cuts like a knife.

“I have nobody,” you say, “though a few would likely search for me. It would be out of habit.”

“Habit?” he asks.

“Because I would do the same for them,” you explain, “my friends and I look after each other. But we’re not very close.”

“You need not be afraid of me,” he says. And that otherworldly smile returns, but it does little to dissuade the butterflies in your stomach.

The shape moves a bit closer, until only his horns are silhouetted against the inky sky. You can see him a bit better, though his lower body still remains a mystery.

You find yourself looking closely at his hands, searching the dirt and grass stains for signs of blood or cruelty. You find neither.

“I am not afraid,” you say, following a shiver.

“Yes, you are,” he says, “I am sorry. I frighten people, I know. But you need not reassure me that you shall be looked for.”

“Force of habit,” you say, “I’ve been told stories all my life, advised to be careful about what I say to visitors.”

“I understand. It is wise for you to follow that advice, but I will not hurt you,” he says.

“And you keep your promises,” you repeat, the smile once again curling on the corners of your mouth.

He surprises you with a laugh, the sound fills your chest even by proxy. As full and soft as his voice, the shape’s laugh makes you feel whole. It isn’t cold any more, you realize. A familiarity blooms in the way he speaks to you already. Perhaps he truly does understand the need for companionship.

You shift a little on the log, deciding to believe him. Not trust, not yet, but to believe.

“I am afraid, but I’m not scared of you,” you say, “would you sit?”

“Can you be both at the same time?” he asks, though he starts forward towards where you are. You’ve straightened up, your cheeks have dried. That pleases him. 

“I am afraid of what would hurt me, of the stories I’ve been told. But you are not like the stories, are you?” you ask. The shape slowly shakes his head. He sinks down beside you, with not a creak from the wood beneath.

“I try not to be,” he admits.

“The woods are lovely,” you say, “I cannot blame visitors for wishing to protect them. It should be protected.”

“But not from you,” he replies, “remember, this is also your home.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you confess.

“Perhaps not, but you do choose to come here every so often. Why?” he cocks his head to the side again, a strand of dark hair falls over his shoulder, having come loose from where it was gathered into a low plait at the back of his neck.

“No one knows me here,” you say, “except for you. And don’t apologize, I don’t dislike that.”

“You do not?” he straightens his neck again. His eyes widen a fraction, as does your smile.

“I forgive you for watching me. I know you meant no harm,” and the visitor nods. “I come here because I am unknown, I can be myself. I have no obligations here. The sounds and sights are never too much, the moonlight is never too bright.”

“Elsewhere you feel overwhelmed,” the shape summarizes. You nod.

“Precisely. And I sit on that feeling until I have no choice but to cry,” it is harder to admit out loud than you like. But in his bright, yellow eyes you find some form of agreement.

He really is quite handsome, you note the longer you’re allowed to look. And though you are less worried about when to blink around him, you find no evidence to suggest he is changing his shape. You suppose that a visitor with ill intent, looking to ensnare a foolish human would choose a less challenging mask.

The visitor is not quite right, unearthly as his beauty may be. His unbroken stare is a colour no mortal thing could ever have. His hair is braided, yes, but this close you can tell a brush has never touched it. What you can see of his ears is sharply triangular at the ends, rather than rounded. Dirt and dust are caked under his fingernails, you wonder if he might be a gravedigger.

But no blood, nor memory of blood pools at the corners of his thin mouth. His lips are not tinged with pale blue the way corpses are. While he is wan and waxy, he does not carry the chill that wraps around you. He may not be fully separate from the night, but he does not seem to belong to it.

“Who are you?” you ask. You’ve spoken at length about your sadness, but it has never felt so far away as it does now. The shape’s smile falters for just a moment.

“I am not certain,” he replies.

“You and me both,” you try to find his grin again, giving him your own so that he will not worry. “I only ask because---”

“Because there is something sinister about me,” he finishes. And he nods, as if he has heard it before. His head dips a fraction, turning from you. All the better see the horns that sprout from it.

They are long and black as his hair, arching back from his brow. They curve, just once and end in a delicate point. And yet he moves as if they are barely a hindrance, with grace that would accompany experience.

“Quite the opposite,” you reply, “I have never heard of anyone like you.”

“I am not a gravedigger,” he replies, “and I am not a monster.”

“No,” you agree, “you don’t eat people, living or dead?”

He curls his lip in disgust rather than answering, it makes you choke on a small giggle. The shape turns back to you, as confused by the sound as you were when he laughed. There is similar awe in his face.

“Then you could be a forest spirit,” you try, “that would make sense.”

“It is possible,” he concedes, “but I do not know. I have been alone for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s so sad,” you speak without thinking, usually a dangerous game. But the shape is unoffended by the obvious pity in your voice. You’ve given him plenty to pity you for, after all. “Do you speak to other people in the forest very often?”

“I have, but never frequently,” he replies. You still do not trust him, but his slight anxiety appears to match your own. As much as he belongs here, it appears he is not sure if he belongs here with you.

He stays a safe distance from you on the log, you shift a little closer. Though your cheeks still sting and the whites of your eyes are still red, you feel less lost in your misery. Less alone.

“I wish I never had to leave,” you sigh, “I could sit in this glade and watch the sky move forever and ever.”

“I have done so,” he says, “it is a very good way to spend one’s time. I enjoy it.”

You trust that to be right, at least. Still, for all his flawless strangeness and otherworldly beauty, he seems very lonely. He’s unhappy.

“I wish---” you start, but cut yourself off. 

“I could steal you,” he says, so suddenly that you wonder how long he’s been holding it back.

“Steal me?” you ask, turing to the shape with an arched brow. But you do not, in fact, sound repulsed.

“You would not have to return home if I did. You could stay here,” he reasons. Taken aback, you smile for the confusion.

“Have you stolen many people?” you ask.

“No,” he says with a firm shake of his head.

“Is it a great honour?” a teasing tone creeps into your voice, your smile turning impish. The visitor smiles too, as if your joy gives him joy by proxy.

“I think it would be my honour, as you would be my guest,” he explains. 

“But why take me?” you ask, resisting the urge to dismiss this completely as some sort of joke.

“So that you will not cry,” he says. And the faraway solemness in his voice stuns you to silence for a moment. 

“Lots of people cry, lots of people are afraid,” you try. He shakes his head.

“But you are here, I am here. Your home is here,” he says. You make a sound, like a sob but softer and more amused. Bewildered.

“Is it allowed?” you know the rules in part, never to accept food from visitors or stay too long. But he isn’t like the creatures in your grandmother’s stories. And if he is, you might be willing to take the risk. Going home with this exchange behind you feels wrong.

“I do not know, I have never offered before,” he admits. You give a slow sigh.

“Are you afraid? There may be consequences,” you try to rationalize why it could never be, and the way his face falls is heartbreaking.

“I am lonely,” he confirms, “nothing else.”

“I was worried you were,” you say. You look at him, horns and all in the moonlight. You dip your head and try to catch his big, yellow eyes. He looks back with no hesitation, like he was hoping for you.

“So, will you stay with me?” your visitor asks. His face softens, more vulnerable now than you’ve seen before. And you thought you had known it all. If this is a lie, you might like to be lied to.

“Right here?” you say, foolishly. His reedy laugh fills your chest again.

“Perhaps not only here, not all the time,” he replies, still looking happy. “I could take you to the places that I like best.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying in the forest,” you consider, pulling your eyes away. The circle of woods around you feels far bigger than before, more free and ready to explore. There is excitement under your tongue. 

Your visitor hears it, he leans in just a bit with your back turned. He couldn’t help it if he wanted to, his mind is already pushing against the confines of his skull. It’s such an old mind, such an old skull. And it has been too long since another voice occupied it the way that yours does.

When you look back to him, you are not afraid. He watches your face very intently, ready to see fear or watery sadness return. He dreads both,  he cannot stop himself from saying,

“And I would not mind your staying, say that you will,” your visitor does not know if he has breath the way humans do, but you have taken his. It will be so hard to part with if you decline. 

To his immortal joy, you lean in a little closer as well. Your shoulders slouch, you relax.

“Where is your most favourite place?” you ask, distracting him from the clutter of his desperation for a moment. 

“Along the bank of the mirror pond, it is not far due east from here,” he replies. It is hard not to smile when thinking of it. The perfect circle of still water, flanked by willow trees and daisy clusters. You might like it there.

“I haven’t been swimming since I was a little girl,” you admit. It’s almost sheepish, embarrassed that such a mundane joy has evaded you.

“You could again,” he suggests, brightening further. Until your visitor’s enthusiasm is dulled by his own hand, worried at reminding you of whatever dreadful situation you’ve come from. “But I would not make you.”

“Do you promise?” you cock your head to the side this time, tilting your head back a fraction to appreciate the full length of his horns.

“I do,” he insists. He would like to have an understanding with you, to understand you. The grass can keep his promises, but it never speaks back.

Your visitor looks so hopeful, you’re shocked by the realization that it may be mirrored on your own face. You are just as desperate, searching for a reason you could say yes. It’s right there, hiding just at the back of your throat. Another word from him and it will come.

He is made of smoke, you’re sure. Of dirt and red clay. Of pine needles and the daisies that you saw when you tried to get thoroughly lost in the woods. And of a kind thought or ten. He is so very sweet, it seems right.

“If you offer and I accept, is that still stealing?” you state your question, the final one before you answer. You’ve decided on that.

You reach into his lap, over thin knees that appear under heavy fabric. You did not see it before for the shadows, but he wears a cloak of green canvas--- so dark as to be almost mistaken for black. His dirt-caked hand, boney and cold from the night air rests against his thigh until you pick it up.

He fits his palm to yours as best he can, it is good enough. 

He smiles, showing his small fangs. You give his hand a squeeze, hoping to warm him. But, you remember, you will have a while to do so. Slowly, you stand and he follows.

“I have no idea,” your shape says.

[livingouttheworsttimeline]

Why am I so tired all the time?

4:30 am: youngest child wakes up after wetting the bed. change child, change bedsheets, replace drinks, turn night time music back on, convince youngest child that it is in fact still night time. Climb back into bed a 4:55.

5:00 am: eldest child comes to tell me that youngest child wants to play. I am aware, because I have heard her loudly declaring such since I left their room. Tell oldest child to go back to bed. Pray that, somehow, for the very first time, they will put themselves back to sleep. 

5:05 am: give up on hopeless prayers. Get up and take both children to the living room. Change the youngest into underwear. Log into tablets and override the “do not turn on until 6 am” setting. Wait for coffee to finish brewing.

5:23 am: extract self from underneath 2 children and a dog to pour first cup of coffee. It’s half caff, because spouse has a heart condition. Remind self that I can have several cups with impunity.

5:45 am: Eldest child is unhappy with the pre-made breakfast provided for him the night before. When asked what he would like to eat, he responds, “bacon, chinese food, or pizza.” Explain, again, that we need a variety of foods for our bodies to grow strong. Spend 15 minutes convincing him to eat $5 worth of blackberries as a compromise.

6:12 am: Finish 2nd cup of coffee, realize that eldest child’s night time pull up is overflowing with poop. Usher him to the bathroom for a bath. Feel humbled when I realize that I spent 10 years in grad school, and yet I am still reduced to wiping shit off another person. Calmly remind eldest child that he is capable of using the potty, and that I have confidence in him. 

6:30 am: Spouse awakes, complains that he slept poorly. Roll eyes and go back to drinking 3rd cup of coffee, in between being elbowed in the stomach and explaining that no, I do not know how to work the video game you just downloaded 15 seconds ago. Remind self that I am their physical and mental safe place, which is worth the literal bruises and mental stress. 

6:45 am: extract self from pile of children and dog by physically lifting each dependent off my lap. Verify that spouse is up for supervision duties, collect running clothes, and start treadmill.

6:47 am: stop treadmill because youngest child has entered the room and decided that I will not run today because it’s not fair. Remind self that arguing fairness with a 3 year old is the definition of futility. Gently remind her that I love her, she is a big girl, and she can play independently while I run. 

6:49 am: start treadmill again. Nagging calf pain seems to be back. Scale back workout, remind self that value of the run is not the distance. Do extra core workout to compensate.

7:30 am: shower. Mediate 2 sibling fights from shower. Fortunately, children are camped out in the bathroom with me, so I don’t have to leave a trail of water through the house to interact.

7:35 am: Marvel at the thought that spouse takes a 45 min shower. EVERY DAY. Note gratitude that I am working from home, and no longer have to style hair and makeup. 

7:36 am: Refill kid drink cups for the 3rd time today. Spend 30 minutes convincing, cajoling, and bribing kids to put on clean underwear. We no longer try for clothes. 

8:06 am: turn on work computer. Respond to a weekend full of emails. Handle 5 pressing tasks for side hustle, reasoning that if I get them out of the way, I can push the rest of that to do list to after working hours.

8:45 am: Answer persistent pounding on locked office door. refill drinks and provide snack. Reassure youngest child that mommy is still here, but she needs to work. 

9:03 am: debate whether going to the bathroom is worth leaving the office and the begging that ensues. Make wrong choice either way. 

9:15 am: morning meetings get shuffled later, because childless coworkers “are running late this morning.” Marvel at the concept of 9:15 am being early.

9:30 am: solid wall of meetings until noon. Update team on status at end of last week, despite not remembering what you just ate for breakfast. Realize that you haven’t eaten breakfast. Run training and introduction for new team member. You are the only woman on the team,  so you get do the training because “you’re so good at explaining things.” 

12:00 pm: Call youngest child’s preschool, make sure you can bring by her supplies and still adhere to Covid protocols. Preschool is also side hustle, so cram a parent and employee meeting into a single hour. Explain that new registration system will, in fact, be more efficient than old paper system. Remind preschool staff that we committed to going paperless. Make small talk with preschool teachers until the hour is up. Hop in the car and speed home.

1:00 pm: children adhere to my side the second I walk in the door. Spouse is in the shower. Children have eaten approximately 3 bites of their pb&j sandwiches, and demand different lunch. Remember that you have not eaten lunch yet. Refill drinks for 4th time, provide reasonable lunch alternatives. 

1:25 pm: Remember that you scheduled a meeting for 1:30, and. you need to be present. Calculate that extraction from children is not possible in 5 minutes, and take meeting with youngest child on lap. Despite having weaned 1.5 years ago, youngest child decides that you’re still nursing, and pulls down top on video call. Spend most of call switching on and off mute. Catch every 3rd word. 

1:45 pm: apologize to team, promise to reschedule a follow up with more focus. Hang up, extract youngest child’s arm from shirt. Refill drinks for the 5th time. Bribe children to get in bed for a nap with the promise of a visit to nana and pop this afternoon. 

1:48 pm: children’s beds have been stripped, due to accidents last night, but spouse “doesn’t know where the clean sheets are”, and so hasn’t remade beds. Children petition to nap on the floor. Explain floor is not comfortable. Find clean sheets, make 2 beds, take everyone to the potty, tuck both children in. 

2:20 pm: Realize that you have 40 minutes of actual work time left today, outside of meetings. Try to prioritize, with the knowledge that whatever you get done will not be enough. Deny request for drink refill.

3:00 pm: kick off afternoon meeting block. Try frantically to make the 40 minutes that you did get to work sound like a whole lot more. Wake children up during bathroom break so that they’ll be able to sleep tonight. Refill drinks for 5th time. 

3:45 pm: Curse the fact that youngest child has inherited your distaste for waking up. Gently coax her awake in between meetings.

4:00 pm: Wrap up last task from meetings, make list of all new tasks. Realize that today you have checked off one task, and received 7 new ones. Promise self that you’ll get your work laptop back out after the kids are in bed. Ignore the sense of despair that threatens to overtake you.

4:20 pm: Bribe children into putting on clothes with promise of fruit snacks at grandparent’s house. Feel mildly guilty as you put on your second round of workout gear. Load children in double jogging stroller, jog to grandparent’s house. 

5:00 pm: collect children to head home for dinner. 

5:10 pm: threaten no more fruit snacks if children don’t put on their shoes. Grandparents go get them more fruit snacks. 

5:23 pm: explain that the sun is going down in 24 minutes, and that we have to leave now to get home before it gets dark. Remember that time is immaterial. Wish for that blissful sense of ignorance.

5:37 pm: push 100 lbs of toddler and stroller up giant, hilly driveway. Spouse greets us with “what’s for dinner?” Politely remind him that he promised to plan and make dinner while we were gone. Grit teeth at his “I didn’t know what to make” response. Quickly run through available, easy, acceptable options and make dinner.

6:15 pm: serve dinner. Eat own dinner in 2.5 minutes, then spend rest of meal refilling drinks and plates, heating up or cooling down, and cajoling children to eat anything at all.

6:45 pm: Announce that tonight we don’t need to take a bath. Youngest child immediately melts down, because she wanted to take a bath. Eldest child melts down because, even thought he didn’t want to take a bath, he wanted to taunt his sister while she was in the bath. 

6:53 pm: Loose temper for 1st time today, scream that children need to brush their teeth. Step away to calm down. Spouse gets upset because “You can’t handle the children without yelling.” Bite tongue all the way through to avoid snarky reply.

7:10 pm: read 2 story books. Read one more. Explain again, that mommy cannot read anymore, and daddy will come read for a little while. Extract self from pile of children, and tuck both in. Hugs, kisses, and fist bumps. Twice. Then once more, after you’ve left the room.

7:15 pm: contemplate second shower. Decide that you didn’t really get that sweaty on the walk, and it’s not like you’re going out. Collapse on sofa with phone and mindless tv.

7:25 pm: spouse comes into the living room after harrowing duty of reading for 10 minutes. Hand over the remote, pull out side hustle lap top and finalize tasks for the day.

8:30 pm: remember that you promised to do main job work. Bring out that laptop to run some code while you continue side hustle work.

9:15 pm: Finish side hustle work, give up on main job work for the evening. Mentally apologize to team for not making more progress, promise to self that you’ll be more focused tomorrow.

9:30 pm: tell spouse that you need to go to bed. Endure his eye roll and disappointed face. Apologize for needing to go to sleep so early, and reassure him that you’re doing the best you can.

10:15 pm: eldest child has night terror. Comfort eldest child until he’s calm. Comfort youngest child, who is upset at brother’s screams. Realize that spouse is still watching tv in the living room while you comfort children. 

11:00 pm: listen to youngest child cry for 10 minutes until spouse begrudgingly tends to her. Remind self that it is not solely my job to comfort our children. Try to go back to sleep. 

3 am: eldest child wakes up with question about mushrooms that is vitally important. Answer to best of middle-of-the-night ability, acknowledge that you appreciate his curiosity, but that there are times when questions are not appropriate. Get him back to sleep.

4:30 am: youngest child wakes up.

[asian-hero]

The Tempest King and his Maid (1)

A/N: So, it’s been a while since I’ve posted an actual story, huh? Sorry about that, I’ve been both in a serious writers block and in a funk about whether or not my writing is actually good. But, I digress, here’s the first part of the Dimitri/Maid!Reader fic that I posted a couple months back, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: After running away from your father in the Adrestian Empire and your mother dying, you found yourself stealing in order to keep yourself alive. However, your fate seems to change when a kind angel dressed in the Kingdom’s maid attire extends her hand.

Words: 7,536

The first time you’ve seen snow was at the border leading to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus from the Adrestian Empire. At the young age of four, you and your mother had fled the empire to seek a better life within the cold walls of the kingdom after your father had used you as a bartering chip to earn quick money. Before you could even grasp the concept of complete sentences and coherent thoughts, you knew to never trust anyone, and that everyone would want something of you eventually, no matter how sweetly the words were twisted. 

From ages four to eight you lived most of your life in a tavern, silently watching your mother work as a bar wench, serving less-than-savory customers who’d slur advances towards her, under the guise of drunkenness. It was here which you learned how quickly supposed “secrets” could be so easily bought with a swig of alcohol, and how simple it was to take from a drunk. The first time you stole was when a man got too close to your mother. Per usual, she’d rejected any advances made at her, simply stating she was here to do her job. One man in particular was unhappy about it, and rather than accepting rejection in a dignified manner, forcefully grabbed her arm and berated her in front of the entire bar. It was clear to anyone in a five mile radius that he was extremely drunk and wasn’t in complete control of his actions, but that didn’t stop the hot tears from prickling at your mother’s eyes, or the slight tremble of her lip. As a young lady of seven, you’d never felt as much rage in your small frame as you had witnessing a complete stranger speak to your mother as if she were an idiot. So as the man had been pulled away from her, you quietly swooped in, grabbing the poorly placed sack of coins from his belt and shrinking away to behind the counter. When the man was finally leaving to pay, he was confused to find his money missing and, with a blanched face, meekly left the tavern, but not before being confronted by the owner. You never saw him again after that.

When you and your mother had finally retired for the night you gleefully showed her your spoils. Instead of seeing her kind smile, you were met with a tired sigh and a deep frown. Kneeling down to meet your eyes, she told you it wasn’t right to take from anyone without asking.

“No matter what’s happened, it’s never okay to steal, even if you feel it’s rightly yours.”

After that, you apologized, agreeing to never steal again. 

That was, until age ten. 

The winter’s in Faerghus were unbearable, even if you were better off. So, for the poor, winter’s were horrendous. There was enough snow to make it up to your knees, and in those few patches where snow wasn’t, ice made sure to form. Although your body wasn’t used to the bitter cold, you could deal with it. The slight heat from your small fireplace had made it bearable, not comfortable, but bearable. Your mother, however, could not handle it. No matter how many logs you put in the fireplace, or however many blankets you threw across her small frame, she fell ill, and with no money to pay for a decent healer, she’d soon met her fate. You were sure that the Goddess had shunned you, as spring had came the next day, with the sun finally peaking through the windows, casting a warm glow on a rather dreary sight. You never did get to give your mother a proper burial, and you hoped that she would forgive you for that.

———

You hoped that your mother would forgive your for many things after her death. For the next few years, you would steal anything you could to survive. Some nights you only ate one small loaf, while on others you could snag a few apples along with the mix. You also found abandoned homes to sleep in, shielding you from the cold of the night. It wasn’t your preferred way of living, but it kept you alive, and the Goddess be damned if you died without fighting Death themself. 

Things were starting to look up when you’d bumped into a castle maid at the market at age twelve. By this time you’d grown from stealing food to valuables that could earn you a profit from selling them. The market was the perfect space for you, as it was crowded enough where no one would catch you, but not so much to where you couldn’t see where you were going. As you were walking through the market, you noticed a rather frail woman walking through, wearing a uniform issued from the royal family of Fhirdiad. Where she came from didn’t interest you as much as the golden emblem that was attached to her skirt, you could practically see the coins piling into your hands from the profit you’d make from it. Quietly, you approached the maid, making sure to not seem too suspicious, and when you finally approached her, you reached out for the emblem and tugged.

Unfortunately for you, the emblem was secured rather tightly onto the dress, which caught you off guard. So there you stood, with one hand wrapped around the maid’s emblem, tugging at her skirt, trying to not make eye contact. Before you could release it and run, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder. Steeling yourself, you meekly looked up at the older woman, who, rather than glaring down at you, was smiling. Gently, she pried your hand from her skirt and kneeled down to meet your eyes.

“What’s a girl like you doing running all by yourself?”

You didn’t respond, frozen from fear the maid would report you. When you didn’t speak up, the woman sighed, taking in your stillness.

“I’m not going to report you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she glanced around the market, a curious look forming, “Where are your parents?”

When you looked down at the ground with a frown, she understood. With a contemplating look on her face, the woman stood up and reached toward you with an open hand. You looked back up at her quizzically. She only smiled.

“Come along then, little one. Let’s finish our shopping and get back to the castle.”

You must’ve looked horrified when she spoke because shortly after she laughed, a wondrous sound that reminded you of your mother. “I already said I’m not going to report you, but I refuse to let you stay here any longer.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, you slowly reached for her hand, squeezing it. You allowed yourself to be tugged along, listening to the older lady ramble on about what items she needed to grab, why she needed it, and why she was shopping in the outskirts of Fhirdiad. When the both of you were finally leaving the market and heading towards the castle, you finally spoke:

“Why?”

She looked back towards you, a pleasant smile on her face. “Hmm?”

“Why are you helping me?”

She seemed caught off guard for a moment, before knelling down once again, brushing away stands of hair from your face.

“Every child deserves chance at life, so why would I take that away from you?”

And that was the end of that.

———

Once you had finally arrived at the castle, the maid, whom you’d learned was named Lucy, led you to the servant’s quarters, where she walked you to her quarter’s and told you to stay while she went to speak to the head mistress. Left to your own devices, you wandered around her room, looking at the minimal decor she had. Walking towards her bed, your hands wandered across the bed spread, admiring how soft the blankets were, and how durable they’d be during the cold winter months. Hoisting yourself up, you sat on top of the bed, your feet dangling from beneath you. You took in your surroundings, the softness from beneath you, the warmth that filled the room, and the smell of freshly bloomed flowers that wafted in from Goddess knows where. It was much nicer than any place you stayed, but that wasn’t really saying much, since you slept just about anywhere that’d keep you safe for the night. 

A few moments turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and soon enough, you couldn’t fight off the sweet embrace of sleep that had begun to creep upon you. Slowly, you laid down on the bed, curling into a ball to make yourself as small as possible, and drifted off to sleep.

You didn’t know how long you slept, or whether anything you had just experienced was a dream, however when you woke up a thick blue blanket was thrown across your frame, and your head was positioned to lay on the pillow above you. Blearily blinking the sleep from your eyes, you lifted your head up, noting the lit candle sitting on the table beside you. 

“Ah, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?”

Your head whipped toward the sound, taking comfort when faced with Lucy, the dear maid who brought you here. Calming yourself, you nodded your head, moving to sit up. She hummed softly, her features exuding a motherly aura. “Well, I spoke to the head mistress, and I believe that we can make some room for you to stay here, with us.”

A wave of excitement rushed through your body, and Lucy could probably tell from the way you gasped slightly, with your hands tightly bunching the blue blanket together and the way your face grew hopeful. You could see the crinkles form at the corners of her eyes, but before you could relay any of your gratitude, she spoke:

“However, there is a catch,” She held her breath for a moment before continuing, “If you’re to stay here, then you must also help around the castle.”

You felt the excitement from before begin to simmer. It wasn’t that you weren’t willing to help around the castle, in fact, you knew that there’d be a trade off in order for you to stay. But you didn’t know even know how to properly clean a house, let alone a castle made for the royal family.

As if sensing your worries, Lucy placed a hand over yours, lending you some comfort. “Do not worry, we’ll teach you all you need to know about serving the Kingdom.”

Although her words gave you seldom comfort in your abilities, you could only nod in agreement, if only to give yourself a second chance at life. 

———

After the first year of serving as a maid for the royal family of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus you had adapted fairly well, or, to your dear Lucy, exceedingly well considering the circumstances. 

You’d learned the secret art of correctly polishing any decorative pieces, making them rival the shine of the stars in the night sky. You also learned, but had not yet practiced due to your limited time being there, how to properly set the table for the Blaiddyd family, and how to serve any meal with efficiency and poise. Along with this, Lucy had taught you how to read and write, stating that everyone needed to learn someday. However, the most wonderful treat to the other maids and butlers was the way you were able to quickly mend broken weapons and make them almost as good as new. It wasn’t a skill you thought would be put to use within the safety of the castle, but it proved to be quite useful. 

The first time your skill had been put to use was when Lucy was giving you a tour of all the unrestricted areas within the castle. You two had finally reached the training grounds, which she told you to be cautious when walking around there. When you had turned the corner, a fragment of a training lance hit you square in the face. Blinking, you raised one hand to cover your forehead, while the other went to go and retrieve the broken piece from the ground. You couldn’t even get a word out before you were bombarded by noise.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” Lucy’s voice cut through the commotion, her hand coming down to caress your head.

You nodded your head, smiling slightly, before noticing four other children hesitantly coming closer. The first one, a boy with long blonde hair, whom you recognized as Prince Dimitri, seemed to look the most guilty, along with the raven haired boy next to him. The third child, a blonde girl, who could pass for the prince’s sister if not for her striking green eyes followed close behind, a scowl on her face. The fourth child looked slightly older than the rest, his fiery red hair flopping about as he bounced from one foot to the next, a nervous tick.

“Are you okay?” The prince asked, genuine worry etched into his face.

The second boy scoffed, but you could tell he felt guilt as well, “It’s not like the pointy end got her,”

The blonde girl seemed furious after that statement, moving to pinch both boys. “Felix, don’t be so rude, and Dimitri, you need to learn to control your strength!”

The older boy sighed, but there was a ghost of a smile gracing his features. “Don’t be so harsh, Ingrid, they were just practicing,”

Ingrid whipped around, her fury directed toward him. “Sylvain—“

“I’m alright.” You interrupted, not wanting to prolong the fighting any longer than it needed to. 

As if remembering something, you froze in your spot, before bowing politely towards the prince. It was one of the first things you were taught, to always show respect towards the royal family. Once you finally stood, you shifted your facial features to become more pleasant.

“If you’d like, I could fix that for you,” You stated quietly, holding out your piece of the broken lance and then pointing to the broken one in the prince’s hands.

The group silenced after that, looking towards you, then the lance, and then back to you. With a sheepish look, Dimitri held out the remains of his training lance.

“That would be wonderful, father would be disappointed if her knew I broke another one so quickly,”

You took the remaining pieces and bowed your head before silently returning to Lucy’s side, asking her to bring you back to the maid’s quarters so you could have a head start to your first project.

Within two days, the wooden training lance was put back on the weapons shelf, sporting a new bandage around the middle where it split. Although it seemed perilous, the repair proved to be worth it, as it only broke when handled by Prince Dimitri, who still needed to learn to control his strength.

Months later, you were still repairing weapons destroyed by the prince, although instead of wooden ones, they were soon replaced by iron. Still, your repairs were unmatched, and it was a rather good investment for the Kingdom, who only need to buy half of what they used to in replacements. However complacent you were in repairing lance after lance, you couldn’t help but wonder how inept the prince was if he was continuously breaking weapons like this. Wooden ones you could understand, but iron? He was no older than you, and you knew it took much longer for you to break wood, let alone iron. 

Eventually, you grew a distain for repairing weapons, and a slight distain for the prince himself. Not that you’d tell anyone, but his repeated offensives were starting to irritate you, and although you weren’t expected anything in return, you at least would appreciate an apology for breaking so many weapons within a month. Of course, you knew better than to hold your breath for one, so instead you stayed complacent, mending the broken weapons in a continuous cycle. 

Once you had finished your mending for the day, you walked yourself over to the training grounds, taking extra care to not drop any of them. You quickly went to the weapon’s rack and started to arrange them accordingly. Just as you were about to leave you heard loud chatter coming from the hall. 

From around the corner came Prince Dimitri and his friend, Felix, seemingly in an engaging conversation. Once the two noticed you they came to a halt, their conversation paused. Bowing, your eyes met with the prince’s feet.

“Your Highness, I’ve fixed your lance,” standing up to your full height, you nodded your head in acknowledgement, “I will be taking my leave.”

As you left you could hear the prince and his friend mumbling about something, but you couldn’t be bothered to eavesdrop. 

You were barely out of the training grounds when you heard the familiar snapping of iron, along with a quiet “oh goddess.” Sighing, you rubbed your face, groaning lightly. With growing annoyance, you turned around and walked back into the training room. You were met with the embarrassed face of the prince and the thinly veiled amusement of his friend, trying his hardest to not laugh at him. Gently, you took the broken weapon from his hands, not meeting his gaze. 

“Apologies, your majesty. I should’ve made sure this lance was sturdy enough, I’ll have this repaired in a couple days.”

With that, you bowed once more, before leaving again. 

You truly couldn’t fathom how strong and boorish the young prince was, and it was a thought that both annoyed and intrigued you.

———

A week later the iron lance was back in action and you were back to your regular duties. You mostly worked in the laundry room, as it was one of the least desirable jobs to do, and as the newest member you did any job that no one wanted to do. 

It wasn’t the worst job, in fact, you rather enjoyed it. You were able to work by yourself, with no one else bothering you, especially the nobles. Now, you didn’t have a problem with them, per se, but you couldn’t understand how some of them could be so rude to the people who serve them. For all they knew, you could kill them in an instant, whether it be poison in their soups or smothering their faces with a pillow when you came to wake them in the morning. You knew it was awful for you to think this way, but you couldn’t help it, so it was probably good for both you and the general public that you were assigned to laundry duty. 

It had taken you nearly three hours to finish washing and drying all the servants uniforms. By the time you’d finished your hands had pruned up and small cuts were embedded in your fingertips. Unfortunately for you, the time in-between laundry duty and supper was slight, meaning that you usually didn’t have a lot of time to change your clothes. Rushing down the halls, you hoped you’d make it to supper on time, but you knew it’d be a close call.

Before you turned the corner to your quarters, you heard a few familiar voices:

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to sneak in here, we could be in big trouble if we’re found out.” Felix.

A loud slap could be heard reverberating against the walls, presumably from a clap on the shoulder. “No one’s going to find out, and if anyone saw us, we have Dimitri with us, remember?” Sylvain. 

The prince didn’t even have a chance to respond, as you stepped out from your “hiding” space.

“Your Highness?”

The young blonde seemed to jump out of his skin. Turning towards you, you noticed the rather sheepish look on his face. Your gaze dropping a bit lower, you noticed a small white box in his hands. Shifting your gaze to your right, you noticed Sylvain holding a bundle of flowers. Lily of the valley, perhaps? Tilting your head to the side, you focused your attention back to the prince.

“Is there anything I can help you with, my lord?”

“Ah,” He spoke, seemingly caught off guard, “Well, there’s one thing,”

You waited patiently, or, as patiently as you could, as you knew you were already late to supper. Prince Dimitri took at few steps toward you before extending his arms out, the white box in front of you. You looked down at the box, then back at the prince, who seemed to be grasping for words.

“This is for you,” As if remembering something, he turned around and grabbed the flowers from Sylvain’s hold, “And these as well!”

Cautiously, you took the box and flowers out of the prince’s hands. “May I ask what occasion?”

“As a thank you, for repairing so many lances for me. I know it must be tiring,”

Putting on a smile, you shook your head. “Not at all, Your Highness. It’s my job, after all,”

The prince seemed skeptical about your answer, but smiled regardless. It was the first time you really saw him smile. You had to admit, it was a rather cute sight, with his golden locks covering a portion of his face, hiding his rosy cheeks and his bashful smile. If you stared too long, you felt you may have been stuck in an entranced state, so you bowed your head, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Thank you very much for the gifts. I’ll take my leave.”

With that, the boys all nodded, heading back towards the main area of the castle, as to not cause any trouble. Looking down at the gifts in front of you, you felt confused. You had thought the prince was a brat, like many of the noble’s you had the unfortunate luck of meeting, but seeing him in front of you, with a bright smile and bright red flush, you couldn’t help but think of him as any other kid. It made you feel slightly guilty to just write him off as inept, without really knowing him. It was also troubling that the prince was rather cute, and you couldn’t deny it.

Deciding to not deal with these thoughts, you rushed into your room and quickly changed, throwing the box and flowers on your bed before running out of the room, in hopes to make it to the end of dinner at least. 

You barely made it in time, and Lucy scolded you about overworking yourself, but at least you got to eat.

———

Once you had made it back to your room for the night, you walked over towards your bed, staring down at the small white box that seemed to be looking back up at you. Sitting down, you set the box into your lap, cautiously opening it.

Inside sat a small brooch, seemingly made of silver, and engraved in it was a lion. It was small enough to be inconspicuous, lest you get into trouble with the other maids, but big enough for you to see the lion in its full glory. You reached for the brooch, gently brushing against the face of it, a small smile growing on your lips. Glancing towards your side, you noticed a card sticking out of your flowers. Setting the brooch down, you pulled the note from the flowers, bringing it up to your face to read it:

(Y/N),

Thank you for fixing all the weapons I’ve broken since you’ve been here. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to, but thank you for your help.

I also wanted to apologize for the amount of things I’ve broken. I meant to say it earlier, but I couldn’t get the words out.

I hope you enjoy your gift.

Dimitri

Your fingers absentmindedly dragged across each word, only stopping when you crossed the prince’s name. Eyes wide, you thrusted the note down, feeling your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. You threw the letter on your nightstand, burying yourself within your blanket, hoping to hide away from the growing feeling of, whatever the opposite of contempt may be. 

You couldn’t help but think back to the letter, though, and you wondered if you’d been a little harsh in your earlier feelings towards the prince, after all, he was just a kid, such as yourself. Although you’d like it if he didn’t break things as frequently as he did, he was still young, and you couldn’t hold him to such a high standard. 

Groaning, you flipped over, your face buried in your pillows. You weren’t having a crisis over the inept but rather sweet prince, no, you just needed some sleep.

There’s no way you’d be thinking about him. Not at all.

———

It was around six in the morning when you felt yourself being shaken. You opened your eyes groggily, trying to shake off your tiredness. 

“Wake up, dear, we have to get ready.”

Lucy’s sweet voice was what woke you up. Sitting up, you cocked your head to the side, curiosity overtaking your sleepiness.

“Why?”

Lucy didn’t turn towards you, too occupied with grabbing the cleanest uniform you had from your dresser. “One of the maid’s is sick, so we need someone to cover for breakfast,” she handed you the outfit, a small smile decorating her face, “We figured that since you’ve been training long enough, you should have a go at serving the king and prince for breakfast.”

That certainly got you up. Hopping out of bed, you looked at Lucy with a mortified gaze. She seemed to understand what you were getting at, because she set her hand on your shoulder, a firm but loving gesture. “You’ll be fine, just listen to the head mistress and everything will be okay.”

You hesitantly nodded, still unsure of your abilities but you didn’t want to disappoint her. Once you grabbed your uniform, Lucy gave you one last smile, before leaving you to get dressed. Left to your own devices, you quickly threw on the dress, taking extra time to make sure nothing looked crooked or unkempt. You then pulled your hair back into a bun, making sure that no strand of hair wasn’t unintentionally out of line. It took you about three tries before you were satisfied with the way it looked, and even then you were still worried about getting your hair into their food.

Just as you were about to put on your shoes and run out the door, you noticed something shiny on your nightstand. It was the brooch the prince had given you the day before. Running your fingers over the decorative design, you contemplated on whether or not you should wear it. You would be seeing the prince after all, so maybe you could show your, “forgiveness”, for his habit of breaking weapons. 

Before you could go back and forth any further, you heard a knock at the door, followed by Lucy’s soft “Are you ready?” You jumped a bit, startled. Racing out of the room you took the brooch from your nightstand and pinned it above your heart.

You barely remembered to put on your shoes before you hurried to Lucy, who took you to the kitchen, where you were greeted by the staff and then left with the head mistress. She was a kind lady, if not a bit strict. The head mistress, whom you learned to call her “Miss Maria”, had instructed you that you would be helping to set the table and to deliver the food to His Majesty and His Highness when they came down.

Walking over to the table, you began to set the napkins and silverware in the places you’d been taught to put them in. It was practically engraved in your head after how many times you were forced to practice. You were thankful that it was for breakfast, one of the simpler table sets to do. 

Once you were finished, you headed back over to Miss Maria to get your next instructions. She had made sure that everything on the table was in order before telling one of the older maids to go and fetch the King and the prince for their breakfast. Glancing back down at you, she nodded her head toward the kitchen. “Go in and get ready to serve, I’ll let you know when to come out.”

Not wanting to disappoint, you walked to the kitchen, politely waving at one of your fellow maid’s to help you with what to grab. Your tray was piled with bread, fruits from various parts of Fodlan, and oats, grown from Faerghus itself. You were rather surprised anything could grow in Faerghus, but you didn’t say anything. Glancing out the small opening, you noticed King Lambert walking in, a warm smile greeting all of the servants. Behind him was Prince Dimitri, who shared a similar smile with his father, although it was much more subtle and, a bit shy. 

As soon as they took their seats Miss Maria turned towards you and gave a small nod, signaling you to enter. Holding the tray with both hands, you took a deep breath, before leaving with your partner. You put on a reserved smile, not quite as beaming as the King, nor as small as the Prince’s. Once you reached the table, your companion went first, pouring their drinks for them, then bowing and stepping beside you. You walked over slowly, steadily as you moved to plate their breakfast. First was the King, and although he was an intimidating man, he had a warmth about him that made you feel more at ease. Moving over to the prince, you couldn’t ignore the quiet intake of air that came from him. Glancing up from your duties, you noticed his gaze was on your brooch, perhaps a little shocked that you were actually wearing it. You had to bite the inside of your cheek as to not giggle at the prince’s shocked face.

You bowed as soon as you were finished, walking back to the kitchen with your partner, making sure not to trip and make a fool of yourself on the way back. On your way back you could hear the faint sound of the King and Prince’s conversation, occasionally hearing a booming laugh. When you finally reached the kitchen, you made your way over to the small opening, not necessarily for work, but mainly to look at the royal family. You couldn’t help the faint blush that appeared on your cheeks when you stared at the Prince a little too long. Your companion must’ve noticed, as she walked over to you, a smirk plastered on her face. Clearing her throat, she spoke: “Looking for something?”

You felt your cheeks turn even warmer than you thought possible. Snapping your head towards her, you huffed. “Nothing in particular,”

Your answer only seemed to make her even more smug. “‘Nothing in particular’? Are you sure you weren’t just admiring a certain someone?”

You looked at her as if she’d grown three extra heads. 

“Admiring? Who would I even—“

“You were looking at the prince as if you were a lost puppy!” “I was not!” You hissed, wanting to escape this conversation as fast as possible. 

The other maid seemed to sense your uncomfortableness, so she relented. But you could still see the hint of a smirk resting on her face for the rest of the morning.

———

You and the rest of the breakfast group had finished cleaning up around ten, allowing you to get back to your duties. For today, your job was to clean the main foyer. That included dusting, mopping, and polishing anything that may need some help. You used to have an extra person to help you, but most of the staff felt you were old enough to handle your tasks on your own. So here you were, all by yourself in a gigantic foyer room that seemed to be mocking you. Shaking your head, you started by dusting off the shelves. You made sure to be extra careful around the precious heirlooms, not wanting to accidentally knock one of them off.

When trying to dust the great, daunting bookshelves, you found yourself to be just a bit short to be able to reach the top. So, in order to compensate for it, you went and grabbed a wooden stool, placing it in front of the shelf. Once you were able to reach the top, you began humming while dusting, hoping that some singing would help to speed up the monotonous process of cleaning. 

Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t noticed a certain prince walking up behind you. 

“(Y/N), hello!”

A small squeak escaped from your mouth, causing your hand to fly up to your face in a poor attempt to stop the sound. From beneath you, you felt the stool begin to wobble, but before anything could fall, you felt a hand at your back, holding you still as you readjusted yourself. After taking a deep breath, you turned around, only to be face with the prince of Faerghus himself. You felt momentarily stunned for a moment, before collecting yourself enough to give a small bow.

“Your Highness, is there anything I can do for you?”

Prince Dimitri smiled, shaking his head. “No, I just saw you over here and thought I’d say hello,” his face suddenly grew embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shook your hands frantically, your feather duster swaying back and forth. “It’s alright, I should’ve been more attentive.”

He shook his head, but said nothing. As he walked around the room you couldn’t help but grow curious as to why he was here with you, instead of hanging around his friends. 

“Why aren’t you spending time with your friends?” Your eyes widened as soon as the words left your mouth. One day your big mouth was going to get you in big trouble.

You didn’t seem to offend the prince, however, as he just smiled sadly at you. “They’ve gone back to their homes,”

A small “ah” fell from your lips, suddenly out of any commentary. You realized how lonely it must be for the prince, with all of his friends gone. There weren’t many others within the castle borders that were the same age as him, aside from yourself, so he must be rather bored whenever he had free time. You almost saw yourself within him, just a lonely kid who wanted human contact. 

Swallowing a knot in your throat that you didn’t know was there in the first place, you spoke, “Well, you’re welcome to stay here while I clean,” you trailed off, looking a little unsure, “Although I don’t know how much company I’ll be.”

You swore that you heard him breathe out a sigh of relief, but you didn’t focus too much on the little details. He mumbled out a “thank you” before sitting down on one of the couches. Deciding that you couldn’t handle both cleaning and knowing that the prince was just staring at you, you chose to just focus all of your energy on your task at hand, letting a comfortable silence fill the room.

Once you had finished with the bookshelves, you moved to grab your polishing rags and went to town on the little trinkets that littered the entire room. The thought of starting up a conversation with the prince had crossed your mind, but you didn’t trust your mouth to not say anything inappropriate, so you kept it shut. He didn’t seem to mind either, instead he just opted to watch you as you were cleaning. While it was unnerving, you had to admit that it was nice to have another person with you while you cleaned. It reminded you of your first few weeks of working at the castle, with Lucy watching and making sure that you were doing everything correctly. It was also nice to know that the prince had no idea how things were supposed to be “properly” cleaned, since he wasn’t trained, therefore lifting another weight off of your shoulders. 

When you had moved towards the large paintings on the walls, Prince Dimitri seemed to noticed your prolonged staring, as he stood from his seat, walking towards you.

“That’s my mother,” he stated, an unreadable expression on his face.

You looked towards him, then back up at the painting. She was a rather pretty lady, with her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, and her brown eyes that exuded warmth. She almost looked as if she were from one of the fairy tales your mother had told you about when you were younger. Although Dimitri had definitely taken his looks from his father, you could see the same warmth within him as his mother. 

“She’s beautiful,” You commented, looking towards the prince, who had a sad, distant look on his face.

“She was,” he started, looking away from the painting, “I’m sure she was even more radiant in person.”

You looked over at him, about to ask him what he meant, before it hit you: his mother had died after he was born. Lucy had told you about it before, mostly to tell you to never mention it, as it wasn’t necessarily public knowledge. Only the castle staff knew about the tragic ending that met the Queen. Before you could let out any consoling words, Prince Dimitri put a smile back on his face, though you could tell it was a bit forced.

“What about you?”

You blinked, confused as to what he meant. He seemed to have caught on, as he continued:

“What about your mother?”

A wave of sadness and guilt rushed through you, as if the mention of her had broken down the wall you built up. Looking to the floor for comfort, you answered.

“She died a few years back,”

When you glanced back up, you could practically see the gears turning in the young prince’s head, grasping at straws for a sufficient answer. 

“It’s alright. I’ve grown used to living without her presence, so you don’t—“

A warm hand on your shoulder halted your sentence. You were practically dying internally. Was it alright for the prince to be touching you? After all, you were just the staff and he—

“I’m sorry for your loss,” He started, his blue eyes piercing into you, “I lost my mother before I even knew her, and even after that I had my step-mother, so I can’t imagine how painful it was for you.”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, willing your tears to dry up, after all, you had done a damn good job at keeping them away before. “There’s no need to be sorry, Your Highness. It’s apart of life,” You hoped your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

His hand still stayed on your shoulder, and you were sure that if he moved it now you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself as put-together as you were now. Looking up at the ceiling, you closed your eyes, and took a deep breath in. 

Finally, you turned to face him, with his hand gently falling off of your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of taken up all of your time like that. You’re welcome to stay, but I must finish my duties.”

Once you had turned back towards the vases you were to polish, you heard the prince’s footsteps retreating back to the sofa, where you heard a soft thud. There was a little part of you that was happy he stayed with you, mainly so you didn’t have to be alone after that talk of your mom. Even though it had been years since she’d passed, you couldn’t help but freeze up whenever you thought of her. You wondered if she would be proud of you, if she’d be proud of the choices you made in life so far. 

The rest of your time with the prince was spent in silence, but you were grateful for the company nonetheless.

———

Ever since your little, heart-to-heart with Prince Dimitri in the foyer, he seemed to make himself a permanent fixture in your life. Whenever he’d see you around the castle, doing whatever you were assigned for the day, he’d make his way over to you, a cheerful smile accompanying a friendly “hello”. 

You were always courteous with him, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the company. At first, you were rather quiet, not wanting to somehow offend the prince with your words. Silence would fill the air as he sat next to you in silence, while you tending to whatever you needed to do. If you were off to clean and organize the library, he’d be sitting at a desk nearby. If it was your turn to do laundry, although you weren’t sure how he snuck down, he’d be sitting off to the side, seemingly content with just sitting there. 

Eventually you got tired of the silence and began asking questions. With his permission, of course. You didn’t want to be kicked out of the castle from just from asking something stupid. It’d range from serious topics such as “how does your crest grant you such super strength?” or “how long have you been practicing with combat weapons?”, to rather silly questions, such as “can you lift that table?” 

He was always happy to answer your questions, even if they were a bit ridiculous. You soon grew more and more comfortable around the prince, realizing that he was just like any other kid you met, minus the status, and, well, god-like strength. All he wanted was someone to keep him company, since he was the only child, and his father was always working. Before you even knew what was happening, you started to consider him as a friend, rather than just a royal brat. When you first realized it, it came as a shock. Shocking that your resentment turned into bashfulness and happiness. Although, you knew that you were starting to feel that way the minute you saw him bringing gifts to your room that one day, you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

As the days went on, you started looking forward to seeing Prince Dimitri. You were excited for the conversations the two of you would share, for what topics you might share with one another. Soon days turned into months, and then before you even knew it, the new year had passed, landing you in 1176, a year that you hoped would be as prosperous as the year before for the royal family. You were quite shocked that the prince still went out of his way to speak to you, even if it was just for a few moments. 

However, today was different. The two of you had found each other when you had just finished wrapping up laundry duty for the day. As you were just about to go back to your room to relax for a bit, you heard him call for you. When you turned to ask what he needed, he simply whisked you off for some relaxation and chatting. As you two had approached the balcony you both deemed as “your spot”, you could see a few maids you recognized, tending to the gardens. Although you weren’t one for castle gossip, it was rather fun to talk about which of the staff members you two thought were “secretly in love”. These ladies weren’t susceptible to your little game.

“I think that Helene is in love with Lilith,” You said, a sense of conviction ringing through your voice. 

It was known around the entire maid staff that Helene had a soft spot for women. She had a habit of staring just a bit too long at the ladies in King Lambert’s court. Helene also had a habit of stumbling her way in a conversation whenever it came to beautiful women.

Below the balcony, the two of you could see a few maids, who were currently tending to the gardens. One of them was obviously Helene, with her bright blue scarf billowing in the wind. The other two, you were currently arguing on who Helene was in love with.

Prince Dimitri shook his head, a smile growing on his face. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Lady (Y/N),” He’d taken to calling you that, enjoying the slight rush of heat that grew on your face, “Helene is in love with Delilah.”

You gasped, as if he’d said something sacrilegious. Huffing, you pointing towards the maids. “Your Highness, Helene is standing much closer to Lilith, and she keeps looking at her when she thinks she isn’t watching!”

The prince still shook his head, gesturing to the third maid, who was standing next to Lilith. “She’s trying to look at Delilah, Lilith just happens to be standing there.”

You scoffed, trying your best to keep your laughter contained. How many times had you two argued about something so trivial? You couldn’t keep track, but it sure was a fun way to pass the time.

It was rather unfortunate that this peaceful time couldn’t have lasted longer.

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 2

Zero and @eternalfarnham are Looseleaf and Saelhen du Fishercrown, a mothfolk animist and a half-elf conwoman. A botched heist forces Saelhen to keep up her fake identity and embark on a quest to places unknown, with Looseleaf to keep a watchful compound eye on her. This time, they prepare to set out for the jungle city of Thunderbrush.

[Campaign log]

It's less than a week after the incident with the pit under Yoshimimoto Plaza. Looseleaf returns to school with Saelhen in tow, and Looseleaf's roommate Oyobi spends some time training them up in basic monster self-defense- the two of them are now level 2! Saelhen gains a Cunning Action, and Looseleaf embarks on the Path of the Mutable Spirit. (There's no combat this session, so more on that later.)

In spending some time with Looseleaf's roommate, Saelhen picks up on... certain nuances.

looseleaf: what you know about your roommate is that she is very friendly and outgoing. the reason she's barely home most of the time is that she's always out partying or fighting or otherwise living it up on campus, and she's pretty well-known and popular amongst the student body. she's technically Martial Arts but takes a few Natural Arts classes, including your archaeology class. she wants to be an adventurer and join the Deathseekers' Guild, and she's taking multiple periods of Severe Zoology to learn to fight monsters. she thinks you in particular are adorable and has probably invited you to various social gatherings. she seems kind of spacey and unreliable, though, and doesn't seem to take you seriously.

saelhen, what you know about looseleaf's roommate is that she a freak nobody else seems to pick up on this, since there's not a lot of other elves at Blacksky, but you can tell from the way she wears her clothes and how she interacts with strangers to the uninformed observer, her fashion sense is sort of rugged and sporty and normal to an elf, her usual outfits are the equivalent of going around dressed in torn booty shorts, a spiked choker, and an ahegao t-shirt she is very obviously making a statement, and that statement is "i can do whatever i want, and if you have a problem with that you can [insert grossly offensive euphemism here]" her super-smiley friendly attitude is clearly part of this- she is breaking every single rule in the elf book, going right for the friendship throat in every social interaction and ignoring every single nicety that's supposed to precede friendly contact she acts a little different around you- like, she expects you to be in on the joke she's playing on everyone around her. she'll say something seemingly innocuous that's a actually a horrendous boundary violation in Kanzentokai, and then look at you with an expectant smile, to see if you appreciated the hilarious prank she just pulled. being around her is like being in the studio audience for a cringe comedy sitcom

Why are we learning so much about Oyobi? Well, partially because I can't help but overthink every single bit character, but also for reasons that'll become clear shortly.

After a few days, Saelhen and Looseleaf are invited to the Provost's office, up at the top of Blacksky Tower. (Ominous sort of place, for a faculty building- hewn out of a single chunk of sparkling black stone, oldest building on campus.) They are not invited to sit- the office contains no chairs.

Provost Hamori Los has good news for them! The people she's had secretly monitoring Saelhen for the past few days- did she forget to mention that?- have determined, by triangulation, that the arrow on Saelhen's bracer is currently pointing in the direction of Thunderbrush, deep in the giant-spider-infested jungle. So that where they'll be going, on a fun field trip!

Looseleaf could not be happier about this. Or less happy. She's really got precisely the amount of unhappiness that she's obligated to feel about giant spiders, being a giant moth.

Luckily, they won't have to trek through the jungle- Hamori has arranged for transportation via the ferry at the town of Cauterdale, which should allow them to bypass a treacherous trek into the depths of the Remoline Rainforest. They'll each be provided 100gp as funding for this academic enterprise- and Headmaster Goodcrest of Thunderbrush Metropolitan University has agreed to provide lodging for them on arrival. Everything is handled for them- so there shouldn't be any problems!

There is one more thing, though- all the different schools want in on this trip, so one school doesn't get all the credit. They're required to bring along a representative from the School of Arcane Arts and the School of Martial Arts, on top of Looseleaf from Natural Arts. And on top of... the representative from the School of Restricted Arts.

This dude is named Vayen, and he's not much for conversation. Or explaining what he's even doing here. Or doing anything besides skulking a careful distance away from the party, staring and listening. What does the School of Restricted Arts even study, again?

Anyway, Looseleaf has someone in mind from Martial Arts, so she leads the party to the School of Arcane Arts to do some recruiting! After being chewed out by Two-Brains for trying to post notices outside the official student notice board, she puts up her ad:

It's not long before she gets a bite!

Orluthe Chokorov is a cleric-in-training, under Diamode, the Goddess of Family. He's been enrolled in Arcane Arts at the insistence of his family... but he seems to think he's a "fake", and is desperate to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it means he passes his classes without having to actually... be able to do whatever it is he's taking classes in. He says he can fight, though- in fact, he's eager to fight! He once beat Bud Chestplate, did you know?

There are perhaps less delinquent candidates they could go with, but there's something nice about a party member with secrets Saelhen could use as blackmail.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...rest assured that I shall be the soul of discretion. As will Looseleaf." "Though I fear that deception of this sort does not come easily to me..." Looseleaf: "Noeru, if he doesn't want to get into it, he doesn't have to- oh my god."

Having recruited Orluthe, the party heads back to Looseleaf's dorm to ask Oyobi about the Martial Arts students- maybe she has some idea as to who would make a good candidate for the trip!

(This isn't me foisting her on the players, though I did suggest it- after the party of two squishies got wiped in the first encounter, I offered them the chance to put together two NPCs who they'd get to control in combat. Their character sheets were more or less created by the players, and I matched their mechanical requirements to NPCs. We may end up having multiple characters per PC, later- this is sort of a trial run.)

With a cleric(?) and a ranger on the team, plus whatever Vayen is that he won't tell them, they're feeling ready to hit the road- right after a shopping trip.

Saelhen buys...

1x bag of 1000 ball bearings

1x traveler's clothes

1x hooded lantern

15x doses of insect repellent salve (much to Looseleaf's great offense)

2x uses of sealing wax

1x tinderbox

fuck it, 4x more bags of 1000 ball bearings

Zero: 'what are you going to do with five thousand ball bearings' 'when the time comes, i'll know'

Looseleaf buys...

1x pint of oil

1x bag of 1000 ball bearings also

5x healer's kits, to distribute to the party

1x pouch of various plant seeds

1x map

Notably absent is any food, since they have Oyobi in their party- she's a ranger with the Goodberry spell. (I've reflavored it to just mean she's good at foraging and always has rations on hand, because holy crap, Goodberry rules-as-written is totally worldbreaking- why would farms exist?)

During their shopping trip, Saelhen manages to get Oyobi alone, without the rest of the party. Oyobi's shtick has been fun, for her, as someone with very little regard for elven rules of politeness, but... it's still a little much. She asks Oyobi to tone it down.

Oyobi Yamatake: "I mean, I thought you had to no-sell it to keep up the fake noble act- I didn't think it was actually getting you!" "That's priceless, oh my god." "What's there to take a 'break' from, anyway? What's wrong with just living?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Primarily, the fact that I really need not to twitch in front of the Provost's silent murder goon." Saelhen jerks a thumb over her shoulder, then belatedly checks to make sure that Vayen is not in fact literally right behind her. Benedict I. (GM): Make a Perception roll? Saelhen du Fishercrown: aw, hell, he definitely is, isn't he

She rolls a 13, and no one in particular rolls a 17. So, everything is fine. They keep their voices down, anyway.

Oyobi Yamatake: "I mean, is it really a problem? Can you really not keep a straight face?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I mean, I can." Saelhen sweeps a hand over her face and is the picture of serenity. "Why should the lady Noeru de la Surplus concern herself with small lapses such as these?" "Surely someone shall find it in their hearts to forgive all trespasses." Oyobi Yamatake: She snorts. "Okay, I get your point." "But really, don't you think it's weirder for an elven noblewoman not to react?" "You don't think he thinks it's suspicious that you take it all in stride?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The character is admittedly kind of a freak. I'm making allowances. I mean, this is fun and all, but if no one sees through the bit at all and I'm stuck in it long-term, which it seems like I am, it's like..." "Just being back in Kanzentokai, except worse, because no one is making me." "And drow catch a lot of crap anyway. They don't need me to teach them that elves can be assholes." Oyobi Yamatake: She frowns. "You can't make me try to keep up with the rules, y'know. I'm not going to put up with that garbage ever again." "But I can tone it down with the..." "Y'know, the stuff I'm going out of my way to do, if that helps." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The wink-and-nudge, yeah. That would help." Oyobi Yamatake: She sighs. She seems a little put out by all this, but pretty quickly puts her happy face back on.

Meanwhile, Looseleaf and Orluthe seem to have lost track of Vayen. It doesn't take them long to find out where he went (well, after Looseleaf rolls a nat 1 on investigation and accidentally pisses off an old lady she mistook for Vayen). Turns out... he's hiding behind a statue of Ccorde, spying on Saelhen and Oyobi.

Looseleaf doesn't buy his crappy excuses, but also... she isn't altogether opposed to the concept of spying on "Lady Noeru de la Surplus", who really ought to have someone keeping an eye on her. So, she just hands him a medical kit- a kit she happens to have used her animist class feature Soul Link on, so she knows where it is at all times. (She's done the same to the bracer.)

Now, with the shopping done, it's time to hit the road! They have a couple options: go on foot, or requisition some giraffes.

(In this world, they domesticated giraffes instead of horses. Why? Because it's a fantasy world and why not?)

The city's main giraffe rental is run by the Ecumene of Understanding, based out of the Temple of Andra. You can rent giraffes for free, as long as you're willing to serve as a courier for the Ecumene- their convoluted legal system requires them to send mail between cities frequently, and they've only got so many clerics on hand. So, anyone wanting to travel the roads can receive a delivery quest from the Ecumene, and rent mounts for free in exchange!

They meet with the Bishop of Understanding of Oyashio, Sarat Aerens.

Aerens has a simple request for them: in addition to visiting Thunderbrush's Temple of Andra with a mail delivery, they're to bring back a report from said temple on the whereabouts of the Siren's Arraignment, a ship that departed from Oyashio and never arrived at its next destination, Snowhold. There's suspicion that the Siren's Arraignment never departed from its supposed origin of Thunderbrush to begin with, either- so the Ecumene put some clerics on the job to investigate, and the party's job is just to relay their message.

With that, they're given giraffe passes, and directed down to the stables, where they find the stablehand, Updraft, having some difficulties.

Benedict I. (GM):There's no one at the pickup window, but there's a sparrow aarakocra just behind, trying to get a giraffe several times her height to get up and out of the damn water trough. Updraft: "...not a bath, ye stubborn git!" "Ye drink from that, lackbrains!" "Y'really want t'be tastin' yer arse?" Looseleaf: OH I CAN HELP WITH THIS FINALLY, A PLACE WHERE I CAN APPLY MY ADVANTAGE ON ANIMAL HANDLING

Looseleaf uses her Soul Read ability to tune in to the giraffe's feelings and recent history, and discovers that someone fed it a hot pepper and it's in, um, anal distress.

Orluthe volunteers to do some healing to the giraffe, with his Lay On Hands ability. Is... that a cleric thing? Do clerics do that? Probably. In this world, clerics perform magic by inviting their god directly into their mind to borrow their brainpower and work miracles directly, and it sure looks like he does that when he does his healing. He channels a god, for sure!

Benedict I. (GM): As he touches the giraffe, you see his body begin to glow, and his facial features are overlaid with another face. "...A giraffe?" "A waste, I suppose, but... perhaps it'll win us some favor." The voice he speaks in sounds more feminine, somehow.

Some religion checks reveal that this doesn't seem quite right for a cleric of Diamode, the goddess of Family. But hey, healing's healing, right?

With that, they're able to get their giraffes no problem- and next time, they'll be on the road to Thunderbrush!