#his unrelenting optimism as she fails over and over again

[baejax-the-great]

Zagreus

not as a boss fight ❌

not as a boon giver ❌

not as a companion summon ❌

but as Mel's incredibly proud narrator exaggerating all his little sister's accomplishments as she fails over and over again ✔

[cutegirlmayra]

Combining Prompts (To hopefully get through them all at last! DX lol)

"I play POLYMERIZATION! Taking these two prompts on my side of the inbox, I'll have them merge to combine and create..!"

"This-" Prompt:

“You’re nothing but a manipulator.”

The charismatic sound rattled Infinite to no end.

How could he continually disregard threat after threat? The abuse of Infinite’s words trying to sting a thousand deadly poisons about his friend’s shortcomings in the war rolling through his blood as though rain upon skin, not lasting… not affecting…

His spirit was unwavering and undaunted in the fact of his charading mask.

Infinite put a clawed hand up to it, his own insecurities shaking at Sonic’s optimism. Who taught this hero that? Was in just innate in him!?

‘His friends… are truly his power.’ He turned with a wide swish of his tail to the jail cell, also unrelenting, also unyielding.

His hands gripped the cage bars, “You have so much faith in your pathetic friends… the stench of their fear, after losing you, saturates the air even through the smog of burning smoke and ashes!” He shook the bars by accident, having thrusted himself up against the metal borders between freedom and entrapment.

Sonic, his arms folded, smirked with a side-eye back to Infinite’s attempt. “You’re the pathetic one. Shaking the cage instead of me.” He nonchalantly lifted a palm up towards the ceiling, as though shrugging. “My friends would never lose their cool.”

Unable to hold back a growl of distaste at failing to rile Sonic up or even get a reaction of misery out of him, Infinite, like a predator unable to feast on his prey’s sufferings, threw himself around and paced himself as though to walk away.

But no… It occurred to him, then… His one eye widening before slyly looking back at Sonic

He held a hand again to his mask, but this time, more poised than ever.

“I’m not sure what will convince you… besides, perhaps, an example?” He wanted to check to see if Sonic was now paying attention, he hadn’t exactly described a situation before. He had always, vividly, tried to paint a picture for Sonic of his friends falling back at his own power, at scurrying away in pain.

Describing injuries and their looks of fear and torment never seemed to phase Sonic, as though he knew his friends all too well…

“But this one…” He slightly tilted his body, wanting just a glance… a peek at his face. “Might surprise you.”

Sonic was still facing his back to him… ‘Alright… the games begin anew.’

More confident, Infinite turned away from looking slightly over his shoulder and continued his farce since of illusionary power…

“That one hedgehog, pink and frail, wielding a hammer not quite proportional to her size… Ring any bells?”

“She’d like me to hear bells.” Sonic scoffed, but it did mean he knew the very girl Infinite was speaking of…

He smirked under his mask. ‘I have you now… Sonic..!’

He paced to the side, showing he wasn’t going anywhere. “A spirited girl. Kinda reminds me of you, at times… Rallying her troops, raising their courage to fly the flag of resistance wherever they should so march… After all these months, though… I have come to find her weakness is rather… easy to exploit.” He raised a clawed hand, and curled it maliciously.

He took another peek.

A swift turn of Sonic’s quills showed he didn’t want to reveal his listening in…

‘Excellent… I’ve found your weakness as well.’ He swished only one beat of his tail, bringing it to his other side.

“It didn’t take long… You can read that one like a book. A picture book, even.” He lightly threw out some humor, mocking her. “Who knew a girl who’s fought robots all her life would get so shaken up by…”

He fully turned to face Sonic, folding his arms, “One…”

Sonic’s body twitched, before he repositioned his feet and seemed to regulate himself.

This was the first time Infinite was using an example about the little termite. She had holed herself away after an unfortunate setback… with Tails realizing both of them weren’t fit for combat.

Tails, with the loss of his best friend, and Amy dealing with loss by trying to stay active in hope and combat… only to be overthrown by her childhood trauma when faced with Metal Sonic Phantoms…

“My power grows stronger… thanks to her fear.” He dipped his chin down slightly, then walked with great, easy and relaxed strides as though he had all the time in the world to squeeze every last morsel of a delicious meal out of Sonic…

How he had longed to see the look of despair on that overconfident hedgehog’s face… a hero broken and defeated by Infinite’s own might and power..!

He tapped the metallic edge of his mask’s ‘nose’ against the metal bars. “Sonic? You still there?” He mockingly teased.

Sonic huffed out some air from his nose, scoffing at him.

“Want me to go on?” He was loving this.

Sonic? Silent?

“No remark at all, have you?”

“... You prattle on and on… just like Eggman.” Sonic’s words infuriated him.

He straightened up, stood more intimidatingly at the border of the cell, dropping his arms and forming fists. “What!?”

“Amy might have some small hammers…” He finally… turned around.

He walked to face Infinite’s trembling eye with his own, steady and steadfast, piercing emerald eye of his own.

“But she can also carry bigger ones… and it looks like you haven’t seen those yet.”

Infinite grunted to disregard Sonic’s bold stance and claim, flicking a hand up to dismiss his heroic defense of her.

“It’s no use, Infinite… You can’t shake me up.” Sonic smiled, leaning back. “Why not just quit already?”

“I can do whatever I please!!!” Infinite, losing his cool, slashed a claw across the bars as Sonic jumped back, landing on three limbs before smiling confidently once more, getting up to see Infinite breathing hard.

Infinite put a shaking hand to his throat… as Sonic tilted his head and chuckled to the side of himself.

“Right. Whatever you ‘can’ do… but without that mysterious power of yours… you’re nothing but the empty shell you wear on your head…” He swiped an arm out, as Infinite looked up, as though worried Sonic saw right through his ruse…

“You’ll pay for that… hedgehog.” He moved and lowered a lever, as Sonic’s face turned from joking to serious.

Another torturous arena battle, eh?

When would he learn…

Once rescued, Sonic immediately found out the source of Infinite’s power through some trial and error, but with the help of his friends, he also noticed…

At the final battle, Amy was avoiding the Metal Sonic’s…

His heart Infinite’s words, seeing that they must be true.

At first, he was relieved to hear Amy didn’t leave the base most of the time. Figuring all of Infinite’s spout out nonsense was just like his Phantom Ruby powers, make-believe that he convinced himself he was seeing.

It gave Infinite power to see others weak and helpless before him… he soaked in their expressions of fear as though a vampire to their bloodlust.

Amy’s face would shift when seeing a Metal Sonic coming at her, then turn to only find another in the opposite direction.

Her hammer stayed at her side, ready… but never launching itself towards its foes…

Sonic didn’t have much time… he needed to defeat this thing, the giant mecha Eggman had holed himself inside… but this… this needed to be addressed first.

Because, in truth, seeing even some of Infinite’s words proving true… was what truly made Sonic feel fear.

His heart trembled, yes.

But not in weakness…

In strength.

“Amy!”

Alarmed, Amy turned around to gasp, seeing Sonic leap over her and curl up to knock away a few more enemies, leaving–purposefully–the Metal Sonics as the only illusionary menaces still plaguing her flanks.

“W-What did you do that for? Come to help or selectively not hit the ones with your ‘somewhat’ face?” She teased, but as he put his back against her own, letting the Metal Sonic’s swarm and surround them, he could feel her body quake in fear…

He closed his eyes, trying to help his heart beat louder… Maybe, just maybe… Her heart might match its empathic pace.

It might guide her to the bravery he knew was always within her, even at her most lowest,... Amy wasn’t the kind of girl to quit.

“Amy…” He turned only some of his face over his shoulder, speaking indirectly to her as he opened his eyes to see the Metal Sonics raising their metallic claws, slowly taking steps to pin the two more and more against each other… squishing them into the center of their pre-pounced huddle.

“Remember what we said Infinite’s power runs on?” He eyed her behind him and then the Metal Sonics… they were growing larger… their red eyes blaring as though two twin lighthouses… not meant to instill safety, but distill it with the heat of battle, rising in growing doom.

“They don’t casts shadows…”

She looked down at the ground, seeing that.

“But in your mind… The more power you give them, the greater they become.”

Sonic’s words were like an anchor to her soul, and she took a deep breath, holding the Piko Piko Hammer, a trusted friend nowadays, with both hands… gripping it tightly and rubbing a twisting firmness to secure the lock they had on them.

She nodded, understanding.

“Banish that doubt, Amy… I’m here for you. I’ll be your strength… just like when it all first happened… I won’t leave you hanging for long.”

His voice was so gentle, so reassuring.

Her eyes blinked in recognition, remembering dangling by what felt like an iron thread, crying out in desperate cries to be let go… 

Sonic’s spin dash cut what felt like impossible bands to break, and once catching her footing, the binds of those ropes falling away, rushing into his arms, “Sooonnniccc…!!!”

Feeling that rush of gratitude like how she had felt back then, she smiled with peace finally lingering in her heart…

Her heart and his… steadily beating to the same drum.

“Thank you,... Sonic.” She teared up a little, “I missed you.”

He smiled, too. “Not for too long..! I hope…” He teased, but looked behind him and winked to her.

“Hehe, you’re such a charmer!” She played back, before swinging her hammer up over her head, “HHHHHHHEEE–” She wound up.

The Metal Sonic’s suddenly froze, looking at their bodies as they began to continually shrink in size.

“-HAHHHH!!!!” The Hammer grew in power, springing out puffs of what looked like cotton clouds to then reveal its enormous size..!

It swung down to completely flatten quite the regiment of Metal Sonics, now the size of nothing more than ants compared to her enlargened hammer.

The ‘Piko!’ Sound was deep, a low, heavy sound that amplified by the impact pulse and waves of air as rocks flew up in debris from the collison.

The echo made other Metal Sonics turn before lifting their arms to try and shield from the wind blast… but were taken out by the flying, large rocks that came hurdling at them.

Sonic flicked a thumb across the underbelly of his nose, proud of his friend conquering her fears, and realizing that was exactly why Infinite separated him from his friends.

The one thing that Infinite and Eggman did happen to see…

Was that Sonic… helped to dissipate fear from all those who trusted in him.

He was… Their beacon of everlasting Hope… and gave them the will to fight!

He took out the rest of the Metal Sonics in front of him, “I’ll take care of the rest!” He snickered, “And I don’t like my face that much, Amy! Come on!”

“Biggest lie I’ve heard today!” Amy cheerfully teased back.

“The nerve!” Sonic joked, but smiled and chuckled at seeing her thriving now on the battlefield…

Their rhythm aligned, their hearts were now synced, and with the same speed of delivery, Sonic and her continued to thrash the foes around them before he sped off with a kind wave goodbye, his eyes softened in a glaze of admiration of her.

She gave him a beautiful smile that freely warmed his heart with the light of hope she had once taught him to possess, and sped away to take on the big bad boss… once more… with a heart cleansed from doubt.

And certainly not holding on… to any more fears.

[windor-truffle]

How Asbel Threads Optimism and Realism: Observations from an Extremely Biased Dolphin

So I'm sure I've already covered the topic of Asbel's general optimism and hope and belief in others (like my recent post where i sob over a door) and how that's incredibly sexy of him BUT I'm gonna talk about it again >:) Further close reading of the text has given me enough evidence to say that yes, despite being a paragon, Asbel actually DOES exhibit the flaws and drawbacks of this typically heroic trait, namely blindness to reality through willing ignorance. Allow me to ramble under the cut:

What prompted me to start looking for the flaws in Asbel's character was this skit here, a follow up to the Cheria-Asbel relationship repair arc. When I saw that first cutscene where Cheria accuses Asbel of being disconnected from reality because he believes this strange girl is the dead Sophie they once knew, I sided with Asbel (of course you did), mainly because I already know that it really IS her, Asbel is right. I sympathized with Cheria of course because her viewpoint is very understandable; as one who was left behind with unrelenting loneliness after Asbel ran away from Lhant, it makes sense that she would see this as him chasing after an impossible dream again instead of acknowledging the reality of his loss. But because I the audience am already primed to believe that this is the same Sophie, it's also easy to believe that Asbel intuitively recognized her too (not sure that's true though; Asbel has very little intuition in these kinds of matters 😅).

The follow up skit really confirms his willing ignorance by having Asbel flat out agree with Cheria. He believed very strongly that this was the same Sophie, but he also is admitting that he *wanted* it to be her even though he saw her die right in front of him. It's worth considering that Asbel might be wrong about himself here, that he's assuming what Cheria said about him to be true because as he says, he "doesn't know [his] own thoughts very well." And ultimately it's easy to say "So what? He wasn't ignoring reality, he was the only one who was right about it." But just because it turned out to be true doesn't mean he was justified in believing it; after all, he didn't provide much evidence to support his belief other than her appearance and a gut feeling. Let's look at some more examples to further explore this pattern:

This is probably the most prominent example of Asbel denying reality. This skit takes place after Wallbridge, after Richard's behavior has started to shift, and we the audience know from Asbel's inner monologue and even some spoken dialogue with Sophie that he's starting to have some doubts about Richard's intentions. But in this skit with Cheria (side note but I like that she's always the one he's paired with for conversations of this nature, that she's the grounded one while he's lost in his ideals), Asbel firmly takes Richard's side. I know I like to dunk on Asbel's lack of observation skills but his moral compass is pretty steady, he DOES know that Richard was in the wrong, and he's also denying it. His counterargument to her is just a transparent attempt to convince himself. He's chiding her AND himself for failing to sympathize with Richard, that they must be understanding him wrong because Richard's a good guy, he wouldn't do something bad, right? He believes in Richard, and as a result, it takes him far too long to intervene when Richard gets worse.

It's not that Asbel failed to notice something was wrong; hell, he noticed the very second Lambda's power first took hold of Richard in Wallbridge. It's that he didn't *want* to believe it. He ignores Richard's violence in part because he has no way of knowing anything about Lambda yet, but also likely because it simply doesn't fit his understanding of Richard as a person. Once again he's right, this ISN'T Richard, at least not entirely. But so much of the plot might have been avoided if he had entertained the notion more, if he'd managed to confront Richard directly about this topic sooner. Richard may not have been in a state for talking it out of course, but even a conversation full of lies might have given him more clues to go off of and help Asbel reach the truth sooner. I take this as further evidence that this game is almost a tragedy, since what saves Richard in the end (Asbel believing in him) is also the flaw that enabled the situation to get so dire in the first place.

I do feel the need to interject with my personal opinion that Asbel isn't wrong for this exactly; imo it's better to trust and be betrayed than to be cynical and likely end up in a self-fulfilling prophecy of betrayal anyway. Definitely not trying to victim-blame here. But regardless, Asbel ends up being used, namely when Richard uses him as a momentary distraction while he attacks Lhant. His inability to acknowledge the possibility of betrayal is what allowed it to happen, and he struggles to come to terms with it afterward. Hubert sums it up well, if cruelly:

So these are the consequences of his blind trust, at least in the moment. In the end his virtue is rewarded of course, that by never giving up he's able to save two people who already had. That's why he's a paragon and not, say, a tragic hero. (side note but the best fanon take I've seen on turning Asbel's trust into an extreme flaw was in a lovely and deeply fucked explicit fic in which Asbel deludes himself into thinking that letting Richard have his way with him will save him somehow, completely denying the reality that his friend is just. Raping him.) But before I wrap up this essay I wanted to note some final observations on an adjacent topic, namely how Asbel reacts to the fact that Sophie might not be human:

Asbel gets surprisingly snappy when Pascal puts that suggestion out there, interpreting her words as practically insulting Sophie's existence. This seems to come out of nowhere, but it's probably just born out of his frustration of being unable to help her and his worry for her health (remember, with Asbel sadness = anger). One LPer I watched even speculated if Asbel wasn't just voicing his own intrusive thoughts, though I don't think that's quite true; Asbel has never shown any previous temptation to abandon any of his friends. It's possible that he's worried this is what his friends might be thinking already, though that shows he might not believe in them as much as he claims. He doesn't want to admit that she isn't human because that might mean that she is lesser somehow, which he firmly believes isn't true. It takes a kind reminder from Cheria to help him realize that Sophie not being human doesn't change how they feel about her:

Another win for Cheria :) moments like these actually help me understand this ship better, the dynamic of one who is driven and sometimes misdirected by his heart paired with someone more grounded but kind who has always admired his passion. ...I should probably put this in a Cheribel analysis post huh, oops 😅

Ok, one last thing and then I SWEAR I'm done 😅 On the topic of Asbel leaping to conclusions, I noticed how quick Asbel was to reassure Sophie that she'd be alright. A little too quick, maybe:

This is what he says after Pascal learns from the Amarcian archive in Sable Izole that it might be possible to get to Fodra. They have no idea what Sophie actually is yet, much less found a way to treat her, yet Asbel is feeding her these false hopes. It's perfectly in-character; he hates feeling useless, after all, and he wants more than anything for her to get better. So in order to do SOMETHING for her suffering, he's telling her reality as he wishes it was already. It's not the worst thing he could do, you don't want her to give up hope entirely, but this is just another example where being more grounded in reality might have been more reassuring than assuming they've already basically reached the desired outcome. Something more like "See, we learned something new already. We're one step closer to saving you, Sophie. So just hang in there, okay?"

In conclusion: Asbel wouldn't do very well in Persona 4 😅 That is, he has a tendency to avert his eyes from reality sometimes. He still ends up seeking out the truth, but only by believing that reality as it seems to be isn't how it should be, regardless of whether he has evidence for that. He does an interesting job of threading the line between belief and ignorance, and if the tone and message of this game were a little different, he might have reached a far worse outcome than what canon delivered. Just a little angsty food for thought :)

[crow-summoner]

Darklina Week Day 2: Role Reversal

Sun Summoner!Darkling and Shadow Summoner!Alina

Alina, a cartographer for the Ravken Army, undertakes a dangerous mission to stay by her only friend’s side. They must cross the Forge, a hellscape of intense heat and unrelenting light that has torn their country in two. Nothing can survive the Forge for long. Nothing but the monsters that call it home. Alina thinks she and Mal will make it as long as they’re together, but when their mission falls to pieces, Alina discovers something shocking about herself. She can banish light. Her powers draw the attention of the Golden General, a military leader who scares and intrigues Alina in equal measure. One thing’s for sure. Alina can’t go back to life of a mouse, and the General’s her best option to fight for something more. Can Alina save her world, or will she die trying?

Or, an AU where light powers aren’t necessarily good, and shadow powers get to be heroic. Content warning for some volcra expy related gore and some canon-consistent sprinkles of Malina at the beginning. There’s plenty of Darkles after that, now with extra sparkles.

Story under the jump

The Forge

Alina sits at the inn window, adding the last buttery yellow lines to her painting. For being such a blight against their nation, the Forge made a lovely landscape. She dons her fabrikator sunglasses, and turning her back to the unrelenting sunlight, she lifts her tented mirror up to compare her painting to the real thing. Her superior officers would kill her if they knew what she was using their equipment for, but the Forge is too bright to look at directly. Her superiors may not appreciate art, but if she’s going to risk her life for more supplies, she wants to leave a memorial for herself.

“It looks too much like a vacation spot,” Mal says, dragging up a chair so he can sit next to her. He’s already wearing his glasses and darkened veil, which will supposedly keep the Forge from boiling their eyes out and trap moisture near their faces. Alina would be happier if more than army issued fashion stood between her and certain death.

“You make a pretty bride, you know that?” Alina says instead of responding to the criticism. There were enough horrors in the Forge. She wanted make something pleasant. She places her canvas between the shelf and the wall, hoping that someone working at the inn will find it.

Mal huffs. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw the bags under my eyes. Don’t know how people sleep around here.”

Alina supposes people can get used to anything, even perpetual daylight. She secures her mirror and knives to her belt and dons her veil and gloves. She shimmies down the narrow walkway as if showing off the latest fashion. “What do you think?”

Mal makes a show of considering it, rubbing his chin under the veil. “I think the sveta will be too smitten to eat you.”

Alina tilts her head in mock coyness. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” She leaves it unspoken that she wishes someone else was smitten with her.

“Come on,” Mal says, taking her by the arm. “I want to be on time for once.”

By the time they reach the skiff, Alina and Mal are five minutes late. Thankfully, Alexei, her fellow cartographer, covered for her.

“You owe me,” he says, shoving her maps into her hands.

“I’ll bake you a cake,” Alina promises.

“You already owe me twelve cakes!”

“Then I’ll name my first born after you.”

Alexei snorts. “Like any of us are going to live long enough to have kids. We’re all going to be beef jerky in a few hours.”

“Squeak. Squeak, Alexei.” It’s the code their cartographers have for when Alexei’s boundless optimism is bringing them down.

Normally, Alexei would grumble but acquiesce. Today, he just stares at the skiff. “Do you really think the sveta are real?”

Alina shrugs. “What else could eat our men out there?” Admittedly, invisible creatures made of light sounded farfetched, but she’s seen the battle scars. Other soldiers had claw mark scars across their chest and spots where something inhuman had taken a bite out of them. The light could blister, burn and tan flesh, but it couldn’t do that.

“I dunno. Maybe him,” Alexei said, eyeing the golden carriage in the distance. “The Geldling.”

Alina quickly hushes him. General Kirigan tolerates others calling him the Golden General, but he does not take kindly to the Geldling. Sure, the epitaph was based on an old Kerch word for gold, but gelding is also what one did to a prized horse to keep it docile. It was as good as saying their leader is a ballless pet, and everyone knows it.  

Sure enough, one of the heartrenders lifts his veil and glares at them. He might have been handsome once, but his sour expression makes the lines on his face hard.

“Captain Herring may be rough, but he’s not a cannibal.” Alina hopes this is enough to cover over their mistake. The heartrender doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t fight them either. That suited Alina well enough.

“Watch what you say,” she whispers to Alexei. “We have to depend on these people to survive. Don’t make them mad.”

Alexei nods. “Sorry.”

Thankfully, the rest of their time at the dock goes smoothly. Soon, all the soldiers and Girsha gather inside the metal skiff, ready to take off. A tidemaker hoses them all down, making Alina feel like a drenched rat, but the water is important in such a hot place.

Alina makes sure to stand by Mal, gripping his arm for support as the skiff slides along the sand. There’s enough space to move around, but something about the lack of windows makes the room feel unbearably tight. It’s like one big coffin.

Squeak, squeak, Alina tells herself. No one’s going to die today.

The skiff rattles as they pass over marker zero. They’re officially in the Forge. The panels in the side of the skiff slide up. Rows of dark nets allow squallers to force air out without letting the light in. They’ll have to use the tinted mirrors along the sides of the skiff to direct it.

Alina fans herself, wishing the nets could ease the heat. She was drenched just minutes ago, but her uniform’s now bone dry. Sure, the tidemakers periodically release a mist from their fancy containers and push it around the cabin, but that’s like giving a starving man a single bite.

“I bet I can sweat more than you,” Mal jokes, and she’s sure it’s to help distract her. Even the dumbest man in their unit wouldn’t brag about that.

“No way. Sweat more than that heartrender over there, and you have a deal,” she whispers back. It was a hard challenge. The heartrender already smelled like he’d bathed in nothing but used socks for years.

Mal leans back in shock. “Yikes. Are you trying to kill me? I can’t beat that.”

Alexei sniffs beside them, rubbing under his veil. “My lids are scraping my eyeballs.”

Alina reaches over and slaps his hand the way she used to do with the younger kids at the orphanage. “Then stop picking at them.”

Alexei mumbles. He’s a good cartographer, but he also comes from money, and that didn’t always make for a good soldier. Alina wonders if she should have erased his name instead of Ruby’s. This mission called for two cartographers, and Ruby could withstand discomfort better than he could, but Alina wasn’t thinking rationally. Mal was going to go into the Forge by himself, and Alina needed to remove someone so she could forge her own name on the mission papers. Mal wouldn’t give Alexei a second glance, but Ruby had red hair and a slim figure. Alina couldn’t risk Mal having “glad we’re still alive” sex with her after the mission. It was petty, childish even, but Alina couldn’t help herself. If they all survive the skiff, she’ll woman up and tell Mal how she feels. Lord knows hanging in this middle ground wasn’t doing either of them any favors.  

The skiff shakes, and Alexei grabs the walls. “Saints! It’s the sveta.”

The squaller at the helm shushes him. “Just a bump. Don’t call attention to us.”

Alexei’s shoulders slump, but he retakes his position behind the squaller without another word.

Alina can’t help but lean around her squaller to peak in her mirror. She’d heard about calcified roots surviving the Forge long after the crops perished. The real thing must be prettier than the paintings. Instead of a root, Alina finds the fragments of a skull and the front of a skiff.

She steps back, her stomach sinking into her boots. It’s one thing to know the odds, but it’s another to stare the evidence in the face. Better men than them have failed to cross.

The crew stand in silence as the skiff passes the first marker. Alina gives her squaller the proper directions and distances, and soon they pass the second marker. The third. The fourth. Alina allows herself to hope. Just eleven more and they’re home free.

She scratches her arm, and flakes of dry skin come off. No wonder the skiff regulars look like leather. She’d rather go AWOL than do this again. Then again, she didn’t have be here this time either. She has no one to blame but herself.

The skiff rumbles and tilts. It’s just another bump, she assures herself, but something raps against the ceiling. The heartrenders tense up, and the squallers shift their positions.

Oh, no.

She checks on Mal just to be sure, but he’s clutching his gun tight, his head tilted up. It’s the same stance he took when he found that rabbit in a barren forest or when he was about to catch her during hide and seek. He’s sighted something, only this time, that something is stronger than them.

The squaller at the helm brings the skiff to a stop and signals for the shooters and heartrenders to take position. All the non-combat staff – cartographers included – must gather at the center. Alina takes out her knife and her tented mirror, praying she won’t have to use them.

“Protect yourselves if you must,” the squaller whispers, “but don’t get in anyone’s way.”

Alina’s never felt more useless in her life.

The skiff continues to shake, harder this time. Something whines above them. Something answers it’s call from somewhere in front of them. Another whine sounds from behind the skiff. From all sides. How many of them are out there? At least a dozen given the sheer number of cries. No one dares make a sound. The sveta are fierce, but they’re just as blind as a human in the Forge. Maybe if they don’t hear anything, they’ll get bored and hunt elsewhere.

The ceiling dents in with a clank, knocking the skiff to the right. One of the soldiers jumps at the sound, aiming where it came from. The squaller at the helm blows him away, but not in time. The shot blows a hole in the ceiling, letting the light in. The beam hits a tidemaker’s shoulders, carving a smoking black line through her kefta. She screams, tearing off the cloth to expose a blistering gash. A healer pulls her to the side as one her friends tries to stifle her screams with a damp cloth, but it’s too late. The sveta cries draw closer.

Something claws a large hole through the ceiling, the soldiers scrambling to avoid the new beams. Some squallers attempt to blow up a tarp to cover the open areas, but it stops in thin air. No. Not thin air. The tarp drapes over something Alina can’t see with her naked eye. Under the plastic, she can make out its large, pointed wings and snout.

“Blast it,” the squaller at the helm shouts, and the soldiers open fire on the creature. It whines, batting away the tarp, and then it’s gone.

For a moment, no one makes a move. The cabin is utterly silent. Then something flashes across Alina’s mirror, and the next thing she knows, the soldier beside her explodes in a splash of red. On the other side of the skiff, a healer’s hand disappears. He draws back, clutching his now bloody stump as one of the creatures screeches in triumph.

Alina backs up, though there’s nowhere left to go. Oh, saints. She should have never come here. She begs every saint she can think of to forgive whatever sin brought her to this horrible moment. Shooting her fellow man in combat. Wishing harm to the girls Mal so much as looked at. Disregarding Ana Kuya’s rules at every turn. Whatever it was, she repented. Just please don’t let her die at some monster’s hand.

The durasts burst dust in the air. It makes their own people cough, but it helps make the sveta more visible.

BAM!

Another chunk of ceiling caves in, forcing the crew to huddle along the perimeter to escape the light. Not all of them were quick enough. Several soldiers blister and peel, crying as the sveta tear off chunks of flesh from their bodies.

Alina can only stare. It’s too late for prayers. Too late to run. She should have talked Mal into fleeing while she had the chance, and now ... Alina holds out her mirror, a new hope setting in. They might not make it out, but she can at least die by Mal’s side. He has to know how she feels.

Alina slowly shifts through the chaos, dodging shots and beams of light. She finds him by the helm, taking deep breaths as he aims and shoots. Something heavy hits the floor, gurgling. Of course. Leave it to Mal to find the creatures without a mirror.

She shines her mirror in the direction the creature fell, hoping to avoid tripping its body, but to her surprise, she can just make out the sheen of its skin. The colors change as she tilts the mirror, first blue, then pink and maybe green. All the colors of the rainbow. It reminds her of looking through a prism. Not invisible then. The sveta are just reflective.

Alina giggles. Ana Kuya would be so proud of her, committing to her education even as she’s about to die. She keeps giggling over and over, knowing that if she stops, she’ll have to cry. There are just so many bodies around her. They used to be people, and now they’re meat.

Someone grabs her wrist, and a shot of energy courses through her, quieting the hysteria. Mal drags her beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, but he’s busy readying his next shot. “I lo – ” She doesn’t get any further. Another soldier’s bullet ricochets off the wall and hits Mal in the shoulder. He doubles over, his gun clattering to the floor.

Alina drops her mirror, pressing a palm against the wound. The blood seeps from between her fingers no matter how hard she tries to stop the flow.

Mal slides to the floor, Alina crouching beside him. The light streams against them, burning her chest and his back. The pain means nothing compared to the loss.

“No. Not like this,” she says, covering Mal’s body with her own.

The pain in her back only lasts a second. It occurs to her that this is not a good thing. It means her nerves have been eaten away, but she’s glad to do it if it means Mal can live.

Something rumbles in the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s going to burst, and she doesn’t have the strength to fight it.

All around her, the creatures cry and flap their wings erratically. She doesn’t have time think about it as the world goes dark, sinking her into a deep oblivion.

 *****************************

 Alina wakes, draped over someone’s shoulder, face buried in the red cloth of his kefta. She only lifts her head for one moment, but the light’s unbearable.

The light?

“Mal,” Alina shouts. She wiggles to free herself from the Grisha’s grip. The sveta will come back at any moment. She has to find Mal. Protect him. Where is he?

But they’re not on the skiff anymore. They’re back at the dock, the skiff a shredded husk. People rush every which way, some tending to the wounded and some salvaging the cargo from the hold. Mal could be anywhere among them. Then Alina catches sight of the ground. Oh, saints! So many people lay unmoving on the dock, and Grisha and First Army soldiers keep dragging out more. All these people she trained with. Ate with. Sung bawdy songs with when they’d all had too much kvas. Dead. They can’t all be gone. Right? Right?

Alina kicks at the Grisha. She needs to see for herself who made it out. Mal better be among them. Of course, he would be. He was the best tracker Ravka’s ever seen. He’d always find his way back home. Home to her.

The Grisha swears at her, trying to stop her feet with one arm. “Be still.” She recognizes him. The heartrender that had sneered at Alexei’s comment earlier. Alina drives a fist in the heartrender’s back. If Grisha like him had done more they wouldn’t be in the situation. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? He let their soldiers die because someone spoke against his leader. His pride meant more than the supplies they’d get from West Ravka. More than human life.

“Fine.” With a huff, the Grisha drops her flat on her butt, sand puffing in her face. She’s coughing too much to fight him off when the heartrender takes her by her bicep and drags her towards the camp. Another heartrender takes her other arm, his grip gentler than his coworker’s.

“Was that necessary, Ivan?” The second heartrender asked.

Ivan only grunts “Fedyor” as a warning in response. Fedyor shakes his head with what Alina would call fondness if she thought anyone could be fond of something as sour as Ivan.

“Where’s Mal?” Alina asks Fedyor, but he only lifts a brow. Of course, he wouldn’t recognize the name of a common solider. There were so many of them, and Grisha only concerned themselves with their own. “The boy I was with on the skiff.”

“Ah. Him,” Fedyor says. “The First Army tends to their own wounded. He’s in their care.”

Alina knows what that means. He’s laying outside the infirmary tent, waiting for his turn to have an undertrained medic pour alcohol in his wounds then pack them with mustard plaster. If he’s lucky, they’ll still have enough bandages for him to get his own. Having to use the scraps from old uniforms inevitably led to infection, and without supplies from the west, the camp outpost could not provide the steady diet of alcohol needed to survive that misery. Mal is popular, though. She’s sure someone will be willing to sacrifice their stash for his comfort.

Then it occurs to her that she’s not doing the same thing. She’d been horribly burned by the light, and yet her back doesn’t ache. Someone must have removed her jacket while Alina was unconscious, but her undershirt is scorched where the light hit it. Her chest is unusually red, but it’s not blistering or charred. The worst she can say is that she feels like she’s been awake for days.

“Why would someone heal me?” She’s heard it a thousand times before. Healers were too rare to waste on common soldiers. They were for Grisha and those wealthy enough to be a priority. She is neither, and yet when she looks up at Fedyor, he’s gazing down at her with some feeling she dares not define. It was the same look the Grisha gave the golden carriage when it barreled into the encampment. The same look the peasants near Keramzin gave the bones of Saint Felix on his day of worship. If she didn’t know better, she’d call it reverence.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity when he finally says, “We survived.” Alina doesn’t know what she has to do with that. It was luck. Pure and simple. But then Fedyor closes his eyes and whispers, “Thank you.”

A chill runs through Alina despite the heat. She looks at the tents, the people running around them, anywhere and everywhere but at Fedyor and that look, full of expectations she can never fill. They’ve long since passed the First Army section, but they’re now leaving the main Grisha area, heading up the northmost path. There’s nothing there except for the single yellow tent towering over the rest of the encampment.

Alina pulls back, but it does nothing to stop the heartrenders. “What does the General want with me?”

“Just answer his questions, so we call all get on with our day,” Ivan says.

“I don’t know anything! Let go of me!” She turns to look back at the First Army camp, too far away for anyone to see her let alone help. Not that they could do anything if they wanted to. No one says no to the General.

Fedyor grips the back of her neck, and her whole body turns to puddy. The heartrenders lean into her, holding her upright because her knees can no longer bear her weight. She’s too relaxed to move at all.

Ivan sniffs. “You weren’t supposed to do that for anyone but me.”

Fedyor grins. “Sorry, luv. Desperate times and all that.”

They march her straight into the lion’s den.

She doesn’t know what she expected to see. A jeweled throne and a menagerie of exotic animals like the ones she’d seen in the illustrated book of fairy tales back at the orphanage? Enemy soldiers kept in cages and chained otkazat’sya serving the Grisha like the Fjerdan pamphlet a traveler tried to give them before Ana Kuya kicked them off the duke’s property? But this place resembled the main tent for the First Army. Soldiers clustered together around a round table. A large map hung from a board, thread and pegs marking paths, places and interesting parties. And yet the General’s tent was larger than theirs, made of bulletproof core cloth while they had to make do with spun cotten. They must not need to ration oil either given the number of lamps lit, and the gathered Grisha shone like banners in their blue, red and purple keftas. No olive drab for them.

Most of the room turned to face them when the heartrenders dragged Alina in. Some now look at her with open curiosity and others with incredulous expressions. Soft mummers pass through the crowd until someone raises their hand, and the whole lot fall silent. Saints, Alina never heard a tent so quiet before. Even during lights out, at least one person snored.

Without needing to be told, the Grisha step back, parting down the center to make a path. A lone man strides forward, his telltale yellow kefta billowing around him. Notes of silver, white and gold weave through it, enough thread to stitch three tents of this size together, but he’s not wearing the jewelry she’d expect from his high rank, and his clothes are core cloth like any other Grisha. She’s never seen a high officer without any silk on, no matter how impractical it might be. After all, most never saw battle. Not like this one had.

The Golden General is younger than she’d expected given what others said about him. She’d seen a shriveled man with boney hands covered in warts in her mind’s eye, but this man barely had a decade on her, and his warm blonde hair and fair, flawless complexion were pleasing on the eyes. Too pleasing. Even the most beautiful boy back home had some freckle or ruddiness to his skin, but the General’s looks almost painted on. It’s eerie, and yet she can’t look away. He’s like the very embodiment of the light, except there’s a coldness in his gaze and calm comportment.

He may be light, but he’s not warmth.

That right, she tells herself. Ana Kuya warned her about such things before. One of the orphans she’d grown up with saw a gold coin glittering in some bushes under a hill. He’d climbed down for it, only to be rolled by some travelers. They took the buttons from his coat and the boots from his feet. He came home with nothing but his pants and a gash on his forehead. Ana Kuya warned them all then: not all that’s gold glitters. Sometimes, it burns instead. Gold tempts the desperate, but Alina is not blind. The General only looked like a man. He can boil someone’s insides. Make their flesh rot from their bone as if they were already dead.  Burn them with a glance. And here he is, looking straight at her.

The General stops a few feet away and clasps his hands behind his back. He looks her over, and she doesn’t know whether to be scared or grateful that she can’t read what conclusions he’s drawn. He nods at the heartrenders, and Fedyor rubs the back of Alina’s neck. Her limbs come back to life, panic rising from her core. She wants to run, but there’s no point.

The General stares at her, impassive, and then finally: “Is it true?”

For a moment, Alina believes the absurd. He’s read her thoughts and knows what she said about him being a monster. Then it occurs to her that he’s talking about the skiff. She closes her eyes. What does he want her to say? She was unconscious for most of what went down, and she can barely remember what she was present for. Flashes of her coworker’s blood and blistering arms intrude behind her closed lids, forcing them open again. Maybe it’s best she can’t remember.

She must have taken too long to answer because the General speaks again. “Is it true that you can banish the light?”

All Alina can do is blink. This has to be a joke, but the General’s expression is serious, and everyone around them is leaning in with anticipation. She knows better than to laugh in their faces and question their intelligence, so she makes do by stuttering, “No one can do that.” It takes a moment, but she remembers to add a quick “sir.” She’s not used to being around anyone important.

She braces herself for him to yell at her the way the generals in their army do, but he merely nods. “Then what did happen?”

Alina struggles for an answer. She tries to tell him that she doesn’t know how the sveta got in, or how their ship made it, but no matter what she says, she keeps returning to those burning soldiers. The General frowns, and she knows she needs to come up with something – anything – to appease him.

The General raises a hand to silence her, and when he speaks, his tone is smooth and calm. “It must have been scary out there. It’s one thing to read about the attacks, but it’s another to live it.”

Alina hadn’t expecting any sympathy, so she just nods.

“You must be exhausted.” When Alina nods again, the General continues. “It’s hard to make sense of anything when you hurt so much. I could help with that if you’ll let me.” He gestures beside him, inviting her closer.

He may have asked for permission, but Alina isn’t sure she really has a choice. Still, he’s been nothing but polite so far. She has nothing to lose by playing along.

Alina slowly closes the gap between them, and the closer she gets, the closer she wants to get. It’s like he’s a magnet, and she’s loose filigree coming together for the first time. She feels the warmth now, not in his continence, but all around him. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t tingle. It numbs the heaviness of her limbs and banishes the panic that’s haunted her since the skiff penetrated the Forge. Before she knows it, Alina’s pressed up against the General. She’s vaguely aware that it’s not appropriate to stand so close to a superior, and it’s definitely not safe to be within biting distance of a monster, but it feels right. She doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

The General doesn’t seem to mind either, staring deep into her eyes like he’s trapped, too. Her reflection stares back at her in his eyes. They’re just so bright and shiny. She has a hard time placing the color. It reminds her of one of the duke’s vases. The blown glass was iridescent and shimmered with every color around it. She and Mal had argued for years over what color it really was. He said purple. She said green. They finally settled things with a good arm wrestle. Green won, of course. Alina decides that the General’s eyes are green, too.

“May I?” He asks, and though she can’t see where he’s pointing, she answers his unspoken request, sliding her hand in his. His palms are rough from life on the road, but they’re warm, and his grip os gentler than Fedyor’s had been. She could hold his hand and stare into his eyes forever.

“What happened?” The General asks in a voice softer than silks.

The words spill out of Alina on their own. She tells him about forging her name on the staff list. The attack. Shielding Mal. The sveta descending on them, and then – “All I could look at was him, but I could feel the light getting sucked away. Everything went black, and then I woke up on the docks.”

The General says nothing, but his eyes briefly narrow. It’s not a threat as far as Alina can tell. Whatever she said seemed to confirm something for him. The General pushes up her sleeve with his free hand, never breaking her gaze. She doesn’t fight it. She’s curious, too. Something happened back on that skiff. It’s there lurking there in the back of her brain, begging to be revealed. She knows once it’s free, it can never be caged again. The thought simultaneously thrills her and makes her shiver.

The General trails one finger up her arm. Something inside her responds to act, rejoices in it. His finger stops and curls around her forearm. She notes that the nail on his thumb is longer than the others. Sharp. He drives that nail into her flesh, and it’s like a thousand arms stream out of her at once.

Darkness surrounds them, putting out the lights. No, the lamps are still on. She can feel their flames licking at the shadows just as easily as she can feel the General’s grip on her arm. All around them, the Grisha shout. She can’t see them so much as she feels where they are in the dark. It the strangest sensation, and yet it feels like home. Everything is darkness.

Everything but him.

The General glows, smiling down at her. A true lamp would illuminate the world around them, but there he stands, the sole bright spot in the blackness. Standing together, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Then the General lets go of her arm and the darkness withers, fading into the ground or retreating under Alina’s skin to fight another day.

Alina clutches her chest, suddenly empty inside. Her head swivels every which way, desperate to find that surety again, but it’s gone. The aches have returned, magnified tenfold. She can barely keep herself upright, and soon, she’s on her knees, her head swimming.

“A shadow summoner,” some squaller says, and it’s as if a dam broke in Alina’s mind. She stares at her rough, ruddy hands. They’re not the hands of a hero, and yet it’s true. It’s all true. She can banish the light. She saved the skiff from the Forge.

She’s … Grisha.

Alina frowns, remembering what Mal said when that Grisha girl made eyes at him from the General’s carriage. He doesn’t tumble witches. Alina was glad to hear it then. It meant less competition for her, and she and Mal had exchanged plenty of digs at the Grisha over the years. Surely, he wouldn’t think she’s like the rest of them just because she has powers. She didn’t grow up coddled and self-important like the rest of them. That had to count for something. He knew her. The real her. He wouldn’t be scared of her because of her shadows.

No matter how hard Alina tries, she can’t bring herself to believe it.

The General holds out his hand. Alina stares up at him, sure she should bat it away. She’s not one of his Grisha. She’s a mapmaker and an orphan and Mal’s best friend. But that may not be true anymore, and she’d be a fool to burn any bridges.

She takes his hand, letting the General lift her to her feet. He pulls her close again, so close she can feel his breath against her face. She should let go, but she clings to his hand like it’s the last safe ledge in a rockslide. He gives her a knowing smirk, and she wants to wipe it off his stupid face. She’s had a rough day. She would have clung to literally anybody, but then the General leans in, and she feels that warmth again. His lips brush her ear as he whispers, “You and I are going to change the world.”

Notes:

Whoo! This is my first Grishaverse fanfic. It may be a little late, but it’s here. One shot for now, but I might be interested in continuing this in the future. Hope you enjoyed!

[nexyra]

RWBY Analysis - Ozpin & Ruby, on the concept of leadership

In her song "Burned out", Dodie sings of her fans, how they look up to her and how uneasy that realization made her. For everyone is at the end of the day just as human as their neighbour; and having the hopes and expectations of others put upon you when you're just as lost as them can be a frightening thing. And this... made me think of Ruby & Ozpin.

On the subject of leadership, Ozpin tells Ruby the following : “Being a team leader isn't just a title you carry into battle, but a badge you wear constantly. If you are not always performing at your absolute best, then what reason do you give others to follow you?”

While I love this quote, I also have to analyze the drawbacks of this mentality and how they align with both Ozpin and Ruby. At the time, Ruby is a newly appointed leader and unsure of this reality. Ozpin's counsel give her the confidence needed to step up as a leader and take her duties more seriously, which in return appeases Weiss' and make their team all the more balanced. It is, in that context, good advice. A good leader should strive to lead by example and work hard to be worthy of the respect others give them, both in and outside of battle.

However there is one aspect that I find much more complex and that is... what does it mean to "always perform at your absolute best" and to have others follow you ? Note the use of follow, people letting you lead alone as opposed to "standing by your side" or a similar expression. It showcases in my opinion one of the biggest problem of Ozpin's leadership, but one that I feel has been inadvertently repeated by Ruby's.

- - - - - - - -

To cultivate hope and lies

When it comes to Ozpin's lies, I am of the firm belief that he had good intentions. Soo if you think he's the scorn of this earth, this might be a good time to tap out :D Now, this said I have a lot to say on the subject but I'll keep this short to stay on track (& make another unrelated post to develop my thoughts.)

In my opinion, at the core of his lies stand different beliefs. And on the subject of leadership, I think one stands out in particular and aligns with the advice he gave Ruby : the need to perform at your best to give others a reason to follow you.

Ozpin is the reincarnation of a centuries-old wizard and the headmaster of a school : what is one aspect almost every character agrees on upon meeting him ? "Oh, he's wise. He's knowledgeable. He has the answers. He has his shit together. He can tell us what to do."

Inherently, Ozpin's existence inspires respect and reassure. Just like to a child, a parent is all-knowing and unbreakable, Ozpin's status automatically give others the assumption that he knows what he's doing. And this, in my opinion, is one of the core problems of his leadership.

May it be with his inner circle, with RWBY, with ANYONE really; as soon as Ozpin reveals himself there are unspoken expectations that will chain him. He has the knowledge, he was here when it all began, he's the one calling the shots so he HAS to know exactly what to do. In that situation, breaking down and revealing to everyone how lost Ozpin is, how out of his depth... is unconceivable. And this is where Ozpin's conception of leadership becomes a problem as well. If you always perform "at your best" then you keep your doubts to yourself, you hide your sorrows and you put on a brave face. There are expectations in place that Ozpin wants (needs even) to meet. And thus the hopes of others and Ozpin's desire to fulfill them feed one another, as a perfect recipe for disaster. Because the more time Ozpin spends acting as if everything is under control, the more the expectations pile up... And coming clean about his humanity, the fact that he's just as powerless as the rest of them, becomes impossible.

And in that sense, breaking down the pedestal Ozpin had been put on was probably one of the best thing to do for his own mental health (though the method lacked a bit of compassion in my opinion xD)

The other part that somehow causes problem is how RELIANT on him his inner circle is. Despite their apparent friendship, Ozpin is the clear leader and as soon as he's out of comission, everything falls apart. Ironwood is the only one to call out Oz but in the end still wishes for the wizard to tell him what to do in period of stress. Qrow plays spy and takes order but doesn't seem really interested in stading at Ozpin's side as an equal. Glynda is stern but still defers to him etc...

All of them FOLLOW Ozpin but are just a few steps off from standing at his side. And this is something I see reflected in Ruby.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Following optimism up until it fails you

In Vol6, as secrets and lies are brought to the light, the loss of Hope that Ozpin feared so deeply happens. Is it worth it ? What are we even going to do with an immortal foe ? Maybe we should just go home. In that situation, Ruby is the simple soul who manages to keep her optimism, stand tall and say "No. We are taking the lamp to Atlas." And from then on her position as a leader and a bacon of light is reaffirmed. As Jaune put it in V4 "You gave us the courage to follow you."

Now is that, in itself, a problem ? Of course not. In fact I loved seeing Ruby come into herself and take the lead in Vol6. The problem in truth comes after, from the ramifications. From Vol6 onward, Ozpin has essentially been rid of his leader position and Ruby inherited it. And on a surface level sure, they are pretty different. Ruby is certainly closer to her partners : they're a family and they care about each other.

However, she is still clearly put at the lead. The others relied on Ruby's optimism and resilience to get to Atlas, and continue to do so. Setting foot in Ironwood's office, Blake tells Ruby "We'll follow your lead". They trust her, and whatever Ruby does... goes. They lie to Ironwood and Yang expresses some hesitations but eventually rally to Ruby's decision. And I emphasize this again : it is Ruby's decision. They did not pre-emptively discuss this as a group and then let Ruby be the spoke-person. Yang herself in Vol8 criticizes not their actions but Ruby's choices. Ruby calls the shots, Ruby is responsible for what happens, Ruby is their beacon of hope... Ruby is the new Ozpin.

Ruby has to be optimistic, and make the decisions and take risks because she's the leader. When Ruby leaves the room to break down, conversation & strategy stalls : the others don't take the lead. When things go south, it's Ruby's choices that led them here. Ever since Ruby has left Beacon, the only person who consistently encouraged Ruby to express the BAD, to share the negative has been Oscar. Even her silver eyes ask her to focus on only the happy memories to go off without a hitch ! The others comfort, they smile, they trust, they love even. But they don't want depressed Ruby finally grieving, they don't want honest "I don't know what to do" : they try to bring back confident and optimistic "we're gonna try" Ruby Rose. They want their earnest and happy but ultimately perfect leader that gives them reason to follow. In the end, even if they deeply care for her and have no shortage of warm coated reassurances for the teen, they still chain her down with their expectations. Ruby is NOT built for this. And I don't even say that in the "why is a kid calling the shots" sense, but "why is a kid put in a position where she's RESPONSIBLE for calling the shots ?"

Ruby is the youngest of the group apart from Oscar. The others should not rely on her this much to function. Blake telling Ruby that she looks up to her and that they'll follow her lead is admittedly sweet, but still builds up the pressure weighing her down. Blake calling out for Ruby's help when the teen has just been crashed to the ground by the Hound isn't even sweet anymore. They're all supposed to be equals. Blake is just as capable as Ruby. Calling out to your mind-controlled friend to bring them back from the edge is good. Calling out to your 17-old sister who's been beaten up because you need her to fight isn't.

They need to recognize that Ruby should not hold up the place alone. Because yes, they love her. But at the end of the day, Ruby is still the one bearing the weight of their decisions... Alone, even surrounded.

✦ ✦ BURNED OUT - DODIE ✦ ✦

He was certain; So was I There was comfort in her sighs

Dreams and ideas should not be the same thing You waited, smiling for this?

Oh, she'd want it, if she knew She could take it, I thought too Be careful, be cautious but you just wished harder You waited, smiling for this?

"But they love you!" Over and over, "they love you!" Thousands and thousands of eyes just like mine Aching to find who they are

"Oh, they love you!" Oh, you can feel how they love you ! Coated and warm but that's all they can do Words only get through if they're sharp

Oh, how fitting For one so fake Make me a fairy Whatever it takes

And just like a tale my dream was a scam You waited, smiling for this?

I am burnt out I smell of smoke It seeps through her cracks and so I start to choke Sentences sit in her mouth that are templated You waited, smiling for this?

Oh, maybe I'll talk about it... (maybe I'll talk about it) I can just talk about it... (I can just talk about it) I'll never talk about it... (I'll never talk about it) No, I cannot talk about it...

Don't build hope on something broken I am not cartoon. Cry for help, I am not joking I might just leave soon

[andromedasstarship]

faceless, nameless - chapter 2

photo credit - unknown 

pairing - kylo ren x reader

warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, torture, fighting, angst. 

summary - You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red.

blog rules

a/n - i dont claim any ownership over dialogue pulled directly from the films :) this chapt is like 3.5k so buckle up!!! 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

chapter 1 // next chapter 

-----

the stars

Present Day 

Starkiller Base. 

A few months ago, you had given everyone on base a lesson in First Order torture techniques. Personally, you thought it was a rather pointless activity, knowing full well that none of them would ever be even slightly capable of standing up against Ren. Poe blabbed on about ‘hope’ and ‘they need to be able to find comfort’ and other random ‘good guy’ optimism nonsense. At the end of your lesson you stressed that the best chance they had of keeping their mouth shut was to find a memory- a good one-, and latch onto it as tight as possible until the Order was finished with them. 

Poe was really glad he talked you into giving that lesson, seeing as your advice had helped him withstand the past few hours of near constant torture at the hands of the Order. Various troopers and officers had come and gone, all failing in their attempts to extract what he had done with the last piece of the map to Skywalker. 

Around hour three his body began to give out and all he could think about was how you certainly hadn’t been lying in your constant complaints about how cold Starkiller was. As he faded into unconsciousness, he silently prayed you weren’t having a full blown breakdown and that BB-8 had somehow managed to find you on Jakku. 

When he woke again, no clue how much time had passed, he was greeted with a deep modulated voice from the other end of the room. Ren. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” Ren stated, voice flat. “Comfortable? 

“Not really.” Poe responded, voice equally as flat. Behind his mask, Ren was staring quizzically down at him. Ren was more than used to the feelings of intense hatred that his prisoners projected towards him- if anything it was the expected response-, but there was something so different about the emotions Poe was projecting, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was so... personal. 

“I'm impressed, no one has been able to get out of you, what you did with the map.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know what was coming next. Not bothering to respond, Poe started to slip back away into his happy memory. In his mind, you were there, back turned to him but he could still hear you laughing as the two of you ran through the field by his childhood home 

He was forcibly removed from the memory when Ren reached outwards, slamming Poe back against the chair, with the Force. “I see.” Ren said darkly, twisting his hand ever so slightly, watching in enjoyment as Poe began to strain against the pressure building in his brain. 

Poe’s mind was panicked, trying in vain to hide the memory of you, but it was too late, as Ren had already caught the tail end of it. 

“Is it a girl that holds the last of the map Dameron?” Ren taunted, forcing his way deeper into Poe’s mind. 

Poe’s face was scrunched up in agony, desperate in his attempts to shield your identity from Ren. Ren mistook the admirable struggle as proof that it was this girl who held the key to the map, rather than Poe’s personal attempts at keeping you safe. Ren continued his mental assault, breaking down every mental wall Poe tried in vain to put up. 

A flash of your masked face. Ren was getting closer. 

Then there it was, you- unmasked, no disguise-, staring up at Poe in his memories. 

Poe in his panic started thinking of every single thing he could- what he ate for breakfast before he left, the color of his favorite shirt, the list of chores he had to do on base-, anything to try and divert Ren from you. 

It was like time stopped, the mental probe retreated only for an instance before Ren was back in Poe’s head with a new unrelenting force, pulling up Poe’s most recent and clear memory of you. 

“I don’t like the idea of this.” You said quietly.

“Have I ever let you down Princess?” Poe said with a grin. When that didn’t seem to amuse you, he put a hand on your cheek, angling your face up towards him. “Three days, I’ll see you on Jakku then. I promise.” 

And then the memory was gone. 

----

Jakku. 

It had been two years since Poe and blondie- you later learned his name was Leokai-, had stumbled upon you bleeding out in the sand. Adjusting to Resistance life had been difficult and for months you thought you’d never gain their trust. It wasn’t until you had accompanied Poe to a Resistance ‘recruitment’ meeting and noticed a First Order operative slinking around the crowded room. You had quite literally dragged Poe as far away from the building and off the planet in a matter of minutes, effectively saving him from giving a ‘we’re right here’ speech directly to the Order. After that, the general opinion about you among Resistance members turned positive. 

You still donned a disguise for their safety, lest their mind was ever blended up by Ren. It was incredibly simple, a well designed wig and different colored contacts. Natural enough that you’d never attract undue attention, but still enough that unless Ren had specific intel to look for this version of you, he’d never double check a fleeting memory that might include you; luckily no one had been unfortunate enough to test this theory. During any official Resistance business or battles you donned a plain white mask that wrapped securely around your face. 

When you first got the mask, you and Poe had had a field day with it, trying to figure out how much movement it could handle before falling off; Leia had actually caught the two of you trying to tie yourself to Poe’s X-Wing to see if that would finally get the thing to move. 

All in all, life with the Resistance was treating you pretty well. Except for right now, as you anxiously waited for Poe in a small nondescript ship on the outskirts of the Niima Outpost in Jakku. Poe, you had quickly learned, was one of the biggest idiots you had ever met. You weren’t exactly sure how he had talked you into splitting up for this mission. Splitting up was never a good idea, how had every horror HoloNet show not taught him that already? But Poe had made an undeniable point, the First Order- the Knights of Ren specifically-, were hot on his trail for the last piece of the map to Skywalker and you couldn’t risk being caught up in that fight. 

So, you agreed to split up. But Poe was late.  Late enough to warrant the uncontrollable worrying. Ever since ‘the incident’ you had developed a horrible case of ‘abandonment issues’; everyone reassured you it was a perfectly reasonable response, but you hated it, the complete lack of control over your own brain drove you nuts. You were pacing back and forth, doing your best to calm your nerves. Wherever Poe was, for his sake, you prayed he had a damn good reason for being late. Knowing that you were full of nerves,  Poe had even given himself a very wide arrival time so you wouldn’t worry. But here you were, worrying . 

Unable to wait around any longer, you decided to gear up and make your way to the outpost. If you were lucky, maybe someone had seen him or maybe you’d even find him yourself. You pulled your hair tight to the back of your head, clipping it in place, before sliding your mask on. As you headed out the doors of the ship you grabbed your staff, slinging it around your shoulder. A year ago, you managed to finally access funds that you had left behind on your home planet. Not only did it help purchase a lot of life saving supplies for the Resistance, it also meant you were able to buy and build a brand new staff for yourself. It wasn’t as advanced or sleek as the one you used in the Order, but it did the job just as well. 

The trek to the outpost would only take less than an hour, giving you adequate time to try and calm your nerves. You made a list as you walked, you made a lot of lists these days, having found it greatly helped in controlling your anxiety. 

Poe was just a bit lost, his sense of direction was never as good on the ground as it was in the air. 

Poe was being his charming self and chatted up someone a little too well and lost track of time. 

You still had your ship and if he wasn’t back by the end of the day you’d be going back to D’Qar and putting together an official search party. 

You struggled for a solid fourth item, but by then you were just reaching the outpost. It was loud and dirty and unlike anything you’d ever been to before. No one gave you a second glance, which you were grateful for. As you made your way through the many stalls you were growing more and more antsy, none of the people you saw being Poe. 

Nearly two hours had passed and you had thoroughly walked through the entirety of the outpost, not that there was much, at least ten times. Just as you were about to turn around and head back to the ship, a familiar shade of orange and beeping caught your attention. You almost fell to your knees in relief when you saw BB-8. Except he wasn’t with Poe, but rather a...scavenger girl? It was like BB-8 could feel your eyes on him, because he turned around to look at you and began beeping excitedly. The girl beside him turned to face you as well and without thinking you got a better grip on your staff and ran at her. 

The girl’s face morphed in confusion, but quickly put together what was happening and got her own staff into position, giving you one last look before she turned and started to run as well. Her hesitation and your own speed meant you easily caught up, swiping at her legs which sent her topping down. She hit the sand hard, not letting it stop her as she rolled to her back and instinctively pushed her staff upwards, expecting yours to come down. 

What she definitely didn’t expect was the electrical end of your staff, on and buzzing, pointed straight at her face. 

“You stole this droid.” You hissed. 

Before she had time to respond, BB-8 was rolling up to the two of you, beeping like hell. It was a funny mix of ‘I’m so excited to see you’ and ‘please don’t hurt this girl’ and ‘I’ve got so many stories to tell you’ and ‘I promise this girl did not steal me’ and other random beeps. He was talking so fast and your head was still clouded with adrenaline, so it took you longer to process what BB just said. As soon as you realized the girl hadn’t just not stolen him, but rather saved him, you turned the electrical current off and pulled your staff away from her face. 

You stuck your hand out, glad she was unable to see the look of pure embarrassment on your face. “I um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have chased you like that, I just saw BB and…,” you trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself. 

Luckily, the girl grasped your hand and lifted herself off the ground. “I would’ve done the same, I think.” She replied, giving you a tentative smile. 

You still had so many questions unanswered, but before you could say anything BB-8 started beeping like crazy again; saying something about how he could see a man up ahead-staring at the three of you-, that was wearing his master’s, Poe’s, jacket. 

Not bothering to apply any of the lessons you had just learned from storming the girl, you switched the electrical end of your staff back on. A quick look at the girl told you she had the same idea, both of you getting better grips on your staffs. Both of you took off in a sprint towards the man and you  almost  felt bad for him- you were clearly taking him by surprise, the way his eyes widened like saucers-, but he was wearing Poe’s jacket. 

His attempt at escaping was short-lived. The girl swung out in front of him, shoving him to the ground- quite similar to what you just did to her-, and you quickly took up the rear, positioning the electrical end right at his throat.  

Everyone was breathing heavily, no one had expected to do so much running today. You took a moment to examine this guy and that’s when it hit you, FN-2187, a stormtrooper was wearing Poe’s jacket and you could’ve sworn you saw red. You pressed the tip of your staff to his chest, not enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to send a shock through his body. 

“I’m only going to ask once,” you started, glaring up at him from behind the mask, “where, did you, get that jacket?” Punctuating each pause with the lightest of electrical taps. 

“Ow! Ow! Quit that! I’ve had a pretty messed up day, alright? I’d appreciate it if you stopped accusing me-” 

“Liar!” You yelled, putting the end back in his face. “You stole it from his master,” you said, tilting your head towards BB-8 who was beeping in agreement, “I’ll give you one more chance to answer honestly.” 

FN-2187 raised his hands up in surrender. You studied his face for a moment, searching for any signs of deception; there weren't any, but that explained nothing. “I swear! I swear, his name is Poe. That’s right? Poe Dameron.” 

At the sound of Poe’s name your shoulders relaxed a little bit, but the relaxation was short lived as you FN-2187 continued. 

“He was captured by the First Order.” 

No. 

“I helped him escape okay, but we crashed a little further out,” FN-2187 was silent for a moment, “Poe didn’t make it.” 

No No No No No No No No No. 

“You’re…, you’re lying.” You said angrily, unable to accept that as truth. When all FN-2187 did was give you a look full of  pity, you hit the switch on your staff, pulling it back to your body. “You’re lying…” You repeated, much weaker this time, glad that they were unable to see the tears forming behind the mask. 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” FN-2187 said quietly, in a voice that was just the right amount of sincere to be true. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw BB-8 start to roll away, you couldn’t let him get lost now. “If you even, think, about running away while I go get the droid, you won’t live to see another day.” You threatened, quickly turning on your heel to go catch up with BB. 

In your absence, the girl and FN-2187 were both still quite winded. At least you had gone into the outpost knowing there was potential for action, the two of them were completely caught off guard. 

“Are you with the Resistance too then?” The girl asked. 

A fleeting look of confusion appeared on FN-2187’s face before he jumped up and nodded. “Yes, yes I am. I am part of the Resistance. A Resistance member.” 

“I’ve never met a real Resistance member before. And now in one day, I’ve met two.” The girl replied, with a gentle smile on her face. 

By the time you managed to get BB and ‘drag’ him back to where the other two were standing, they had finished their conversation. FN-2187 tensed up when you reappeared, something you were okay with, not wanting him to feel too comfortable around you. 

No one had time to say anything before the sound of blaster fire diverted all of your attentions. A quick look up at the sky confirmed your one of your worst fears, the First Order was here. FN-2187 grabbed both of your hands and started pulling.

“Don’t grab my hand!” You and the girl both shouted out, but running alongside him anyway. The three of you weaved your way out of the Outpost, doing your best to avoid the unrelenting fire of bullets and bomber shots the Order was raining down on you. 

“They’re gunning for me!” FN-2187 screamed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“They’re gunning for all of us, especially the droid. Now keep up!” You yelled back. It didn’t take much mental strain to understand that if Poe had really been captured and had really crashed on Jakku after escaping, that the Order would’ve followed him here. Your feet pounded the sand, pushing yourself ahead of FN. 

“We can’t outrun them!” FN-2187 called out from behind you. 

The girl was ahead of you and she pointed out towards a quad jumper. “We might! In that quad jumper.” All of you running towards it as fast as you could. 

Of course, as soon as the words left her lips, the TIE fighter tailing you blew the thing to smithereens. All three of you seemed to pause for a moment before the girl started running towards a hunk of,- oh my god was that the Millenium Falcon-  junk to her left. 

“Hey! We still need a pilot!” FN-2187 screamed, still running a few paces behind you. 

“I can pilot anything!” You yelled out, not bothering to look at him over your shoulder. The three of you, plus BB, raced up the walkway of the ship, slamming the door shut behind you. 

“Gunning position is down there.” Rey said hurriedly, pointing at a set of stairs. She didn’t look back as she rushed ahead to the pilots seat. 

Just as FN-2187 got ready to mount the stairs you grabbed him by the back of Poe’s jacket and yanked him around to face you. 

“Not the time-”

“If you do anything down there to make me believe you’re still working for them, FN-2187, I won’t hesitate to come down here and gouge your eyeballs out myself.” You spat, relishing in the way his eyes widened at the use of his official call number. You didn’t give him the chance to reply, just let go of his jacket and made your way to the front of the ship to co-pilot. 

The girl was already pulling the ship into the air by the time you made it up there. You wasted no time, quickly throwing yourself into the chair beside her. Both of you fumbled to pull on headsets as you worked the controls. “Stay low.” You ordered. 

She gave you a confused look. “What?” 

“Stay low,” you said more urgently, “it confuses their tracking.” 

The girl went low and you were glad you were strapped in. You didn’t expect the smoothest of rides, but it was certainly  jerky . 

The constant sound and feel of blaster shots hitting the exterior of the ship were making it difficult to focus. “What are you doing down there!” You screamed into the headset. “Shoot back!” 

“I’m trying,” FN screamed back up, “are the shields up?” 

You blindly reached over and smacked a button. “Yes! Now shoot !” You yelled. 

Where FN-2187 was lacking, the girl was making up for it tenfold with her piloting ability; this girl was good. Internally, you knew you were being unreasonably hard on him; it wasn’t so far fetched to believe that someone would defect from the Order, hell you defected- even if it wasn’t necessarily your choice-, and your position and relationship to the Order had been much more intimate and substantial than a ‘trooper. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you focused on helping the girl pilot the ship. The two of you working in unison to attempt to shake the TIE’s trailing you.

“Hold on!” She shouted and in the background you could hear FN asking what for. The girl pulled on the steering hard and you went veering to the right before she rolled the ship around, giving FN the perfect shot at the last TIE. You internally promised yourself, that if he missed this fighter you’d be fulfilling your eye gouging promise. Luckily for all of you, but especially FN-2187, he blew the TIE fighter right out of the sky. 

“Wooo!” In the rush of the moment, you weren’t exactly sure who was whooping and hollering, it might as well have been all of you. 

Once you felt the ship was out of imminent danger and safely gliding through space, you relaxed back into your seat. Looking over at the girl you smiled, even though she couldn't see it, you hoped she was able to read the emotion from your eyes. You think she could, by the way she smiled real big back at you. 

She stuck her hand out and said, “My name is Rey. The guy downstairs said he’s Finn and he’s with the Resistance too.” 

-----

a/n - im having so much fun with this yall dont even know. likes/replies/reblogs always appreciated and if youd like to be tagged just ask! 

taglist: @egguuuu​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @clarizuliani10​ @kylorendrip​

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it. 

[mc-critical]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day

I have a question about mck. I haven't watched it but I've seen a lot of cuts from episodes on youtube and fan's discussions so I hoped you might explain something to me.

Everybody says that Kosem killed her sons only for power and it wasn't for the good of the country. Is that true? Was Murad a good ruler in the show? All I know is that he was harsh and in the end wanted to kill his brothers. What Ibrahim? In history he clearly made a very poor ruler. What about the show?

Hi!

Fans often have different interpretations of the subject matter and what is perceived on-screen, so some of them might say that Murat IV was a good ruler in the show and some might say that he isn't. Really depends on what you consider a good ruler - is it someone who goes on campaigns and wins wars for his country, is it someone who cares about the people, the janissary and their opinions above all else or is it someone who considers himself unquestionable authority and refuses to take any advice, even if they took the wrongest, most problematic decision ever?

To me, show!Murat is anything but a good ruler. He ascends the throne as a kid, with Kösem as a regent, and I feel that he never actually gained any experience in how to truly rule the state. And yet, when the time comes for him to actually take matters into his own hands, he is ecstatic to finally assert his will and dominance for everyone to see and learn. One of the key problems with him are that he not only wants his decisions to be completely unparalleled and undebated, he considers everything he does as right out of principle. He has the mindset that every single decision he takes is absolutely correct and is beneficial for the state, but not because it's actually correct or beneficial, but only because he's the padişah and "the shadow of God on Earth". And there are quite a lot of decisions that are problematic at best (forbidding alchohol and then you yourself drink it) and outright destructive and dangerous at worst. (leaving just like that, even it's after a traumatic event for you, caused a huge literal revolt!) And even if he realizes what he's doing isn't right, he ignores every kind of advice when people around him tell him to do the precise opposite. This guy is so drowned in his own ego and authority that he destroys everyone around him.

But then again, there's that side of things where, writing-wise, you understand where all that comes from - most of Murat's flaws as a ruler stem from the massive past trauma of Osman's death, which only caused irreparable damage to the mind of such a small kid. It created such unrelenting paranoia that Murat began to forever believe that he couldn't count to anyone but himself. This is what his "meeting" with Osman in E47 symbolizes, he hears both what he wants to hear and that part of Osman which could never accept Kösem's outside interference. That's also the episode where "one Murat went away, there comes the other" and there he began to go further into the abyss of his own beliefs. Murat has Süleiman's paranoia, but upped to eleven in a more offending form, because while with Süleiman this paranoia grew gradually and he could let it go more easily, because despite of all he knew how to rule a good state, with Murat it was always there from the very start, constantly preventing him from doing the right thing, especially due to the constant fear of being manipulated and deceived by someone else (just like Osman thought he was.) and always thinking he's in his mother's shadow.

Speaking of which, Kösem and Murat's dynamic is the central conflict of season 2 of MCK and that's not only an interpersonal character conflict, as it would seem at first glance to someone who's new to the franchise in example, it's a conflict of one newly established and another already established powers in the palace that would never back down and fight for what they think is right. Kösem and Murat have a different relationship with the state. The state for Kösem has a dynamic role - firstly, it was a role she had to accept for the greater good (her standing in front of the people in Ahmet's name in E07 of season 1.), then she saw herself engrained in it due to her strong sense of justice. (getting revenge for her father, trying to expose Fahrye, then Handan and Derviş and lastly, ''protecting the country" from Iskender.) By season 2 country and power are already synonymous to her due to her fully taking the responsibility of a regent and taking the country in her wing of protection, always keeping an eye on it and consistently representing it without a second thought. The state for Murat, however, is static - it is something given to him by God himself, it is something he takes for granted, without truly trying to improve it. The first steps he takes as a ruler is to seemingly "clear" his own path, to remove the traitors around him. And while that seems correct and valid at first glance, he never sees the bigger scheme of things, due to his paranoia. He doesn't see the people who actually conspire to remove him (which is why he never found out the true traitor in his palace and died, thinking this person was the most loyal man ever.), but sees what he wants to see, this shadow who is looming in for years. Murat thinks his mother is a problem, which is why the first step he takes, is to immediately remove her regency and then send Kemankeş to follow her around. These two forces clash with each other incessantly, with their opinion of a state at constant odds. There have been many times throughout the show where Murat does a problematic thing, Kösem tries to snap him out of it and fails, because he doesn't want to listen to her no longer. He's always felt that she overshadowed his own reign, even in her regency years (see the flashbacks in E56.) and he wants to believe that he's already a big man, a person who can do anything, even with a big lack of experience. So whoever tries to give him decent advice is immediately washed off and out of the question, because who are they, they don't know better, he's the only one who does. This mindset is reflected as totally wrong in the show with the people and the janissary despising him, with the numerous revolts (the season literally began with a revolt.), with the multiple traitors around him, with everyone (Atike and Farya aside) turning against him sooner or later. That of course isn't appreciated by Kösem, and she, being the self-and not-so- self- proclaimed representative of the state, tries to fix this all, even if it means acting behind Murat's back. She doesn't really wish her son harm only due to him eclipsing her own power, she just sees the genuine flaws of his rule and is willing to achieve everything to fix it. Later on she began to indeed consider him as unworthy due to all the mistakes he made, claiming that the country is able to defend itself and listing qualities that all padişahs should possess like virtue and justice. She saw how messy all of it became and instinctively began to search for solutions that even came to ending him. (her ordering the doctor to cease healing his illness.) The narrative doesn't actually condemn this choice, highlighted by Murat's last flashback with him reuniting with his mother.

Murat is the one that killed Kasım and Bayezid in show, because he considers them a threat to his own power, first and foremost. Bayezid's the primary one, him being the eldest heir, with people wanting him on the throne from the get-go, when Murat was alive. Murat doesn't accept threat to his own power, and his brothers aren't exceptions, even though he told them certain times that he wouldn't put them in the kafes or take their life. Even though Bayezid became so much like his toxic mother (Gülby, I love you, but sorry.), prone to revenge, harsh actions and gaining questionable one-sided morality, his death was heartbreaking. As for Kasım, Murat took drastic measures, because Kösem thought Murat was dead and tried to calm down the people by bringing to them Kasım exactly as the next sultan. This was extremely harsh, because after all Kösem used it only as a desperate measure, to calm the people down and to apply the most optimal solution. Putting Kasım in the cafes when you once said that you wouldn't is honestly chief irony, reaching Süleiman's level, but worse.

Yes, Kösem was the one who ultimately sealed the pact to kill Ibrahim, but this was due to manipulation. Turhan Sultan wanted his death to pave the way for her little son and gain absolute power, so she indeed pushed Kösem's love and dedication to the country against her. She was put in a position where she had no other choice but to accept - we had a mentally ill Sultan as a ruler, one who could be reckless, one who could cause imbalance and instability and one who also doesn't really listen. So she decided his destiny and the theme of the loss of innocence, the core theme of the whole show, came full circle. She killed Ibrahim, but she wasn't happy with it, she was devastated and her conscience spoke so loudly, she couldn't unhear it. And that deed of hers made her give it all up - by the time of her death, she only wanted piece, nothing else, and she wasn't even interested in who gets the ring of power and she wasn't all that focused on her own death, either. Life was over for her.

Anyway, yeah, it all depends on interpretations of the events and characters and where your sympathies extend. MCK has really interesting and complex themes and I wholeheartedly recommend for you to watch it to drive your own conclusions. Thanks for the question and have a nice day!

[ephemerlskies]

lottery | pjm

⇢ pairing: reader x jimin

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, fluff, flufff, soulmate au, jimin is a dancer, strangers to kinda lovers to friends?? kinda? to ??? 

⇢ word count: 23.4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, excessive cheesiness and pining, slow burn (prepare yourself now)

⇢ summary: everyone was born with a soulmate and a ring. when your soulmate was alive, the ring would be green. when your soulmate was close to you, your ring would turn white. and when your soulmate was dead, it turned black. yours turned black at the age of 20. your soulmate had died along with your hope. but then, one fateful day, it turned green again. 

a/n: this story went, and i cannot stress this enough, in a compLETELY different direction lmao. i hope you enjoy!!! also it’s partially unedited so forgive any grammatical errors or typos <3

When you were four years old, your mother explained to you that there is a human with a heart and a soul that is tied permanently to yours. That person was your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky few that meets them, she said, then you can thank your lucky stars that the universe granted you this gift. Some people spend their entire lives searching, hoping that their soulmate unites with them, while others simply give up or lose faith that they’d ever find their soulmate. And eventually, they settle for someone and love them as much as they can to fill that void. You couldn’t imagine yourself ever becoming the latter of those two kinds of people.

“Mommy, I’m not going to find my soulmate. I think my soulmate will find me! I’m so cute!” You replied ever so hopeful and innocent. Your mother laughed in response to your bold declaration while stroking your hair lightly. Back then, you never hid your excitement for the idea of a soulmate, and your mother told you to hold on tight to your persistence.

“Love finds its way of sneaking into your life unexpectedly. And when it does, it’ll sweep you off your feet just like this!” Her hands pinched the sides of your torso to represent her description of love, and you erupted with a fit of giggles.

When Jimin was seven years old, he asked his father, “Why do you only get one?” The concept that only one person out of the billions of people that walked this earth could be your destined lover didn’t register as probable in his mind. 

“Why would you need more than one?” His father asked in return, to which Jimin huffed. He was young and couldn’t express with the proper words how he had felt. The desire that raged in his heart to plant himself and his love in as many people as he could was something that always plagued him. He carried that burden the moment he fell in love with his first grade crush; Jimin knew from then on that waiting for his soulmate was going to be impossible for him. He would fall in love a thousand times before he’d ever become close to meeting his soulmate.

When you were ten, you told your mother with firm inquisition, “Mommy, I want to find them now! It’s not fair I don’t know who it is. I wanna be in love forever!” Your pout, though cute, was a bit worrisome. She remembered when she was  beginning to grow impatient and frustrated with the idea that out of the billions of people, only one could be your soulmate. She tried to ease your newfound resistance to waiting for your soulmate by saying,

“Baby, what is meant to be will come to you. Your entitlement to love is written in the stars, and so you just have to wait. Promise me you’ll never lose hope?”, you nodded eagerly and held your pinky out with confidence. Your mother curled her pinky around yours. She smiled at the way your eyes pleaded with the universe to send you your soulmate and the way you grinned when offered words of encouragement. 

When Jimin was thirteen, he raced home and said with all the honesty his young heart could convey, “Dad, I fell in love today. I swear I’m going to marry her, I swear it.” His father glanced up from his book to Jimin then looked back down, a small grin surfacing on his face. Though he knew there was no way in the world that could be true, he believed one thing Jimin said. He was in fact in love.

“Be careful with your heart, Jimin. I know you love so hard but don’t forget to protect your heart.” This succinct and thoughtful warning was spoken through experience. He scrunched his nose and trudged off to his room, believing his dad only said that because he didn’t understand. He did, though. Jimin’s father, like Jimin, was in the same position as he was. He loved outrageously and abundantly. It took him many heartbreaks for him to learn to allot his love more carefully. And he wondered how many heartbreaks it would take Jimin. 

When you were seventeen, you gained a comprehensive understanding of the soulmates, and the rings, and the chances of you finding them. They were slim, which was a difficult conclusion to accept, but that didn’t stop your stubborn self from never becoming indifferent towards the idea of finding your soulmate. This unrelenting hope had been instilled into you ever since you were young, thanks to your mother. And every minute of every day, your eyes never failed to check that your ring was green. Each time you peered down, you hoped to see it white someday. But as long as it was green, you promised your mother you’d never lose hope. You did everything in your power to uphold that promise.

When Jimin was nineteen, he experienced the worst heartbreak of his life yet. The words his dad spoke to him years back finally made sense. He still loved, and that love never diminished but it simply was only to be granted to those he knew wouldn’t hurt him. 

Most of your friends and peers were cynical of their soulmate rings, along with most of society. Modern technology and media have desensitized finding your true soulmate with corny dating apps that “help you find the one” and reality television shows that depict the lives of those who have found their soulmates. It was disappointing how commercialized soulmates and soulmate rings had become. The romance that once surrounded the concept of the soulmate rings had been tarnished by the world’s hunger to capitalize of the profits of soulmates and rings. It was common to not believe and a bit expected to lose hope, tragically so.

Your best friend Wheein was one of the few people you trusted in telling your genuine faith of the soulmate ring, and she of course took every opportunity to tease you for it. Though, she always held a tremendous amount of admiration for your ability to maintain optimism. And when she looked into your eyes, she witnessed the same unadulterated longing that your mother had seen for your whole life, and she felt like crying, “You’re crazy but if anyone finds their soulmate it should be you.” She found beauty and purity and everything good that exists in this world, all bundled up in your heart. The way you loved was as infectious and uncontrollable as a wildfire.

At some point, she realized she too constantly checked your ring to make sure it still emanated green.

It was a week after your twentieth birthday. You woke up in the morning with the heaviest pressure residing in your chest. You had no idea what this feeling was or why it was happening, but there was some cloud of uneasiness settling in as the pain grew more and more prominent. It dawned on you a few minutes later, and you felt your heart drop. Your throat began to close as you frantically searched everywhere for your ring. You usually didn’t take it off but you remember removing it when writing thank you letters for everyone who came to your party because the friction of the ring had caused somewhat of a blister along your middle finger.

Your breathing grew short and rapid, and every ounce of you was trying to deny that this pain could only mean one thing.  

“No no no no.” you muttered lowly to yourself, and just as your body was about to become undone with fear, you ran to the dining table to find your ring, “that’s not possible… please. That would never happen.” You didn’t know what denying this would prove, or who you were trying to convince. Maybe yourself, or anyone who has ever belittled you for believing in that ring, or to your mother, or to the promise you made, planted heavily in your heart for all these years. You rushed over to it as your face rose in temperature and your heart accelerated to about 200 beats per minute; it was pounding against your chest so aggressively it felt as if it could have shattered your ribcage.

As you grabbed hold of the ring, there it was. The suffocating, abhorrent color.

Black.

It covered the ring with a piercing and unforgiving hue that drilled right through your heart. You instantly collapsed to the ground. The turbulence of your breath being the only thing making a sound. You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. Your eyes filled with tears and the wave of regret swarmed your mind; your eyes squeezed shut forcing the tears to flow even heavier.

Just as the ring was black, your entire world transformed and lost all color. All those years of pining over this stupid ring, all the work and endless nights of staring at that ring telling yourself that one day it would turn white or that it would stay green forever, amounted to the greatest defeat. And your belief in love had been violently dissevered from you.

Your soulmate was gone, forever.

All you could do was sulk in the cruel irony of loving the someone you have never met, never touched, or held or kissed.

Wheein was the one who found you lying in the same spot of the dining floor where you first discovered the ring. She couldn’t express how seeing you so hopeless made her feel. It wasn’t her loss, but her heart broke for you. She walked over to you and offered you a simple, loving embrace. She sat there with you for hours, unsure if she should be the one to speak first. The words didn’t come. All she could do was watch you turn the ring in your fingers over and over again.

You didn’t see it, but she cried the hardest she’d ever cried before, and wished she could take your pain away.

“What do I do now? How do I go on?” you whispered, a thick layer melancholy drowned in your voice. She felt relieved when you spoke then held you tighter.

“I don’t know, but I will love you a thousand times more than anyone ever could. Believe me, okay?” She planted soft kiss on your forehead and pressed your head into the nook of her neck. “This isn’t the end of your story.” You wept into her, and you believed her. You finally looked up at her, doing your best to regain your sensibility, and she noticed the blinding absence of hope; it used to be all she could see when she looked into your eyes. That was by far the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever witnessed. You had lost a piece of yourself that day, she knew that, and every day to come you will carry this in your heart forever.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but love exists in every life in countless ways. You just need to find the strength to begin searching in different places.” Your mom said.

 Two years later

 Life without the green of your ring had grown mundane.

Your existence had become a routine and instead of waiting to meet your soulmate, you were just waiting. Most days everything felt okay, especially when Wheein was around. She was one of the few people that sparked some livelihood into your heart. Despite there being a small part of you that couldn’t accept what happened, you lived your life as if you had.

Still, you kept the ring. That same part of you that couldn’t come to accept that your soulmate had died was the same part that couldn’t let go of the ring. So, you kept it but never wore it around your finger. You were ashamed, for some inexplicable reason, that it was black. Your mom would always remind you that it wasn’t your fault whenever she caught you staring grievously at the ring. You knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, but somehow you felt this sense of failure.

Eventually, you settled on putting it on a thin, gold chain and wearing it around your neck where you could tuck it into your shirt and keep it hidden from the world. It was a gift from your mother. She gave it to you about a month after it happened, disguising this gesture as a late birthday present. She knew you wouldn’t be able to part from the ring.

Today was one of those days when you couldn’t to rid thoughts of your soulmate. You often found yourself imagining what they smelled like, or if they liked the rain, or what they wore to the beach, or what their eyes looked like when they smiled.  

Your daydreaming, pensive and glum, were interrupted by a ringing. Your eyes found your phone which read, Wheein.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Are you lost already?” You chirped.

“Hey, people change! I’ve gotten, like, somewhat better at navigating.” She laughed, at first not wanting to admit that she was lost, “but on a totally different note, totally hypothetical question, where would you go if you were on 23rd avenue and needed to get to your apartment?” She questioned in sheepish confusion.

“Well, hypothetically, I’d take a right onto Ventura then turn onto 19th avenue and go straight until I got to my apartment.” You tried to hold back a chuckle about to escape from your mouth along with a boastful ‘I told you so’. “My apartment is on the left side of the street, by the way.”

“Yeah, me too, I’d do that too. I knew that, I was just testing you.” She replied, which counted as her special way of saying ‘thank you for helping me because I was in fact lost.’

“Okay, well, could you hurry? I’m starving and that new coffee shop has something like a cinnamon hazelnut latte that I want to try!” Your voice elevated in pitch just thinking about that cupful of sugar and caffeine. You’d like to consider yourself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur, you’d like to, but the reality of your coffee addiction was that you just loved sugary lattes.

Wheein fake gagged in response to hearing the drink you’d described, “___ that sounds so disgusting… You might as well eat spoonfuls of straight sugar.” Every time you expressed your cravings for sweet things, she couldn’t help but wince at the thought of it. You two were mildly opposite of each other which could credit why you never grew bored of one another.

“You say that as if I’ve never done that before.” You said with slight embarrassment, but Wheein laughed loudly upon remembering when you would sneak packets of sugar from diners and eat them in the car or at home. Wheein would quite literally slap the packets of sugar out of your hand while scolding you on how disgusting and unhealthy that was.

“Oh shit, how could I forget?”, she joked, “Also, I’m here. Open up!” You heard her voice outside your apartment and hung up while eagerly prancing to the door. You opened it and greeted her with a hug and she, unsurprisingly, did not reciprocate that hug.

“___, I literally saw you two days ago.” She laughed at how clingy you were, trying to pull away from you.

“Yeah but that was two days ago. Two days!” You rebutted as you stepped back and gestured for her to come in. You closed the door behind her and sat your couch while scrolling through route options to get to the café. “I can drive us, also we’re meeting Jackson there.”

Wheein nodded, “Yeah, cool.” You looked up at her and noticed she was pacing with a face that always indicated that she was contemplating something.

“What’s up?” You inquired with caution. She looked at you with a coy smile resting on her face. She didn’t have to say a word for you to know exactly what she was about to say.

“No…” You interfered before she got the chance to speak, “No, not again!”

“Come on! He’s really really nice and cute and funny! I promise he’s nothing like the last guy I set you up with.” She argued, walking towards you and sitting down next to you. She always had a few tricks up her sleeve when it came to persuade you to do something she wanted you to do. These include, but are not exclusive to, pouty lips, puppy eyes, and non-stop pestering. All of which she used right now. Wheein lifted her hands in front of her chest and interlocked her fingers together in a pleading manner. Your eyes were glued to how cutely her lip was protruded.

“Wheein…” You attempted to be stern with her, though there was no doubt in your mind that you’d give in eventually, “I’m not-“

“Busy?”, she interrupted, “Yeah, I’m aware.” She untangled her hands and flicked your forehead causing you to flinch and chuckle lightly.

“Hey!” You scoffed, unable to defend yourself, “I… I was going to say not interested.” You couldn’t help but laugh at her friendly jab, in admittance that she was right. She only answered with yet another puppy dog-eyed stare to which you groaned loudly. You then bitterly shot her a defeated look that spoke for itself and added yet another triumph to Wheein’s collection.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly, “Okay his name is Jimin. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about him! He’s the guy that I met during my first year of college and he fell over in front of the entire class when we were doing introductions. Holy shit, it was hilarious.” Wheein laughed to herself when she recalled this but then shook her head to refocus her train of thought, “Sorry. Anyway, he’s a dancer, one of those fancy contemporary ones that does all the flips and stuff. He’s honestly super cute and if I weren’t the gayest women to walk this earth then I would have hopped on that a long time ago.” You had an outburst of laughter when she said this.

“He’s blonde and kinda short but that’s okay because size doesn’t matter.” You were convinced she switched her brain off when she rambled on like that, yet you found her absurdity hilarious. Your eyes widened as she let that last comment slip from her subconscious.

“You’re so weird.” You scoffed back at her, suppressing your laughter and preventing what could have become a ten-minute speech on why yet another one of her bachelor’s she set you up with was ‘different from the last guy’ and worthy of a chance. She nudged you gently, trying to enliven some excitement from you about this date.

“It’s true, it’s how they use it!” She proceeded causing the both of you to burst in a fit of childlike giggles.

“Okay, jeez, I’m already going on the date! You can stop now.” You wiped your eyes and clutched your stomach as it began to ache from how hard you laughed. It was always like this with Wheein, and you loved her for it even when you didn’t show that, “But, in all fairness, you’re right.”

Wheein nodded proudly and smiled widely before rising to her feet and pulling you up off the couch by your arms. You huffed as she forced you from your comfortable spot and followed her as she walked to the door, “Text Jackson to let him know we’re on our way!” She called back to you as you hummed in response and fulfilled her request.

“He’s gonna throw a little fit that we’re late.” You smiled, staring at your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, he always does.”

A few days later, you stood in front of your mirror and stared at the muted pink colored, semi-casual dress you tried on. The pile of clothes scattered across your bed soon catching your attention, none of which occurred by your own doing, but by the same pest that was forcing you on this date tonight. Wheein walked in rambling on about something you didn’t pay much mind to, “So I couldn’t find your red lipstick but I found this pink one-“ She paused and gasped, eyeing you down in your new attire.

“___, I love it!” She smiled, looking ten times more excited about this night than you did. You smiled nervously turning back to the mirror and inspecting it once more.

“You like it? It’s not too much?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hands along the side of the dress.

“Too much? Please, never.” She came up behind you, held both your shoulders, and turned you around to face her, “Turn.” Wheein proceeded to apply the dusty rose lipstick, her eyes fixed on perfectly lining your lips. She always liked to visit you and assist you in getting ready for dates, knowing fully that you needed that push of encouragement. These kinds of things were always difficult for you, and she tried her best to distract you from that damn soulmate ring hanging around your neck.

“Why do you say turn when you’re just going to turn me anyway?” Your muffled joke was shushed by the girl who was still meticulously filling in your lips.

“Shh, you’re gonna make me smudge it.” Wheein whined and lifted your chin slightly to get a better angle. To this you simply rolled your eyes to sarcastically jab back, ‘God forbid.’

As she finished with your lipstick you spun back around to examine your makeup and hair one last time. You nodded in satisfaction and stepped away from the mirror, checking the time to assure you weren’t running late.

Twenty minutes until the date. Now that you were finished getting ready, there was nothing left to distract yourself from how anxious and a bit unmotivated you felt. You began to absentmindedly twirl your ring in your hand while your foot tapped rapidly against the floor. Wheein reached out to grab your hand, along with the ring which was enclosed in it.

“You don’t have to take it off, ___.” She consoled, softly running her thumb along the back of your hand. Your eyes landed on hers, then you shook your head discontentedly.

“Wouldn’t…” You paused, fighting your voice from cracking, “That would be weird, though, right?” Your eyes fell back to your ring, which reflected that haunting shade. Despite your nerves still being on edge, Wheein significantly managed to ease your anxiety.

“No, and besides who cares? Its your body, you do or wear what you want.” Wheein was always so headstrong, that characteristic often served as a solace to you. “And, if Jimin does say something then, I’ll kick his ass. I’ve got a baseball bat on hand one hundred percent of the time.” She offered nonchalantly, generating a soft chuckle from you. Upon seeing your smile, she continued, “Hey,” you looked up to her, “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s not that I don’t ever want to find love. I do, It’s just- knowing that I lost them…” You inhaled deeply in attempt to yield your tears, “I know I could never love someone as deeply and truly as I would have loved them. It’s just hard to be excited about these kinds of things, you know?” Wheein pressed her lips together and she stared at you empathetically. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed your eyes gently, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“As much as that is true,” She paused, folding over the tissue and drying your other eye, “that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to find love. And that doesn’t mean the love you will find won’t be just as real.” She tossed the tissue aside and wrapped her arm around you, kindly ushering your head to lay on her shoulder. “You love me and I’m not your soulmate.”

“That’s true.” You sighed, finally tucking the ring into the front of your dress, feeling the coolness of it dangle against your chest. “But you are my soulmate.” You lifted your hand to squeeze her cheeks lovingly. She laughed, only allowing you to do this because she was truly proud of you for going on this date.

“At least I know I will never experience a heartbreak so painful as that ever again.” That comment elicited a few tears to well in Wheein’s eyes.

She sat you up and hugged you tightly, running her hand against your back. In that moment, she wanted to tell you that you were so strong, but she remained silent. She then pulled you up from your seated position. Wheein steadied you by gripping your shoulders, softly.

“Hey! No tears, okay? You’re about to go on a date with a super hot dancer with the legs of a god.” She rocked you back and forth gently to loosen up.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” You groaned and smiled trying to release those sad feelings. Your reluctance to tonight was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what you thought about dating; deep down, you did want to fall in love even if that wasn’t with your soulmate. You couldn’t tell whether you were disappointed or relieved in your ability to consider settling.

“Okay, well it’s almost time to go! Text or call if you need anything. You remember our code word?” Wheein led you to the door before exchanging one last glance. Your code word was the word you texted her that signified you desperately needed an out from the date. Both you and Wheein have used this word various times for you often found yourselves rescuing each other from awkward, uncomfortable, or creepy dates. Your nerves began to ease even more upon remembering you could always count on Wheein.

“I will, and yes: candle.” You affirmed, then stepping out of the threshold of your door. “I’ll probably be back around 10:30ish? I’ll text you when I get there!” You called to her as you began to walk down the hallway. “Oh, and don’t burn my apartment down!”

She laughed and waved as you turned the corner.

You sat in your parked car for a bit. Your hands squeezing the wheel tightly just like the first time you’d ever driven. You focused on steadying your breathing and shut your eyes. “You got this. You can do this.” You chanted quietly to yourself, “It’s just a date.” You opened your eyes and let go of the wheel. Your heart raced, but not enough to be too noticeable. You developed a knack for hiding how nervous you were when you went on dates, not without practice, however.

As you walked into the restaurant, your eyes scanned the area searching for the man named Jimin. You then felt a hand gently place itself on the back of your shoulder to which you turned a little too quickly. Your eyes landed on a man, who was notably attractive, and a bit taken aback.

He was smiling. The creases around his eyes complimented him so well; that alone weakened your legs.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you!” He chuckled, his laugh was childlike and charismatic and light, “Are you ___?” His eyes were puffy in the cutest way and his hair framed him so fittingly he looked like a painting. Your eyes wandered down to notice he was wearing a simple, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of black, fitted slacks. This outfit accentuated the curvature his legs, which were admittedly ‘god like’ as Wheein described.

“Yes! You must be Jimin?” You held your hand out and he met yours with his. They were soft and warm which relaxed you for some reason. You glanced down to his fingers noticing he was wearing his soulmate ring that illuminated green. Something you hadn’t seen in a while. At first you felt a bit of sadness settle in, but then that was replaced with a bittersweet content. For some reason, you were happy he was wearing his ring. To you that meant he still believed which was oddly reassuring, but it also reminded you that he wasn’t your soulmate.

“That’s me!” His voice was cheerful and welcoming, you felt jealous at how natural and calm he’d been acting, “I already got us a table, wanna go sit?” His hand gestured towards the table and you nodded, leading the way to the table. He pulled out your chair, revealing his traditional gentlemanly tendencies. You thanked him as he found his seat across from yours.

“This is really fancy! I feel like we should talk about something sophisticated like the economy.” You joked, to which he laughed in response. You’d already started to love his laugh. It reminded you of beautiful music, which encouraged you to do or say things to provoke this laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we should order fancy wine too, except I have no what that would be.” He played along, “Can I have your most pretentiously expensive wine? Preferably something with a gentle, floral aftertaste.” He mocked the way those elitist folks would order their drinks. You, being a previous waitress, had to admit that his impression was accurate. You and he snickered at this, and you mind drifted away from the necklace and every worry you had before this date

“Anyone who swirls wine and sniffs it before drinking it makes me wanna vomit.” You spoke between giggles, “One time when I was working as a waitress, some guy demanded he had a crystal wine glass as if anyone can actually tell the difference.” Jimin laughed again, inspecting the glass that stood in front of his plate. He picked it up and held it in front of you.

“So, in your expertise, what would you say this is?” You then pretended to carefully analyze the contents of the glass, theatrically stroking your chin as if you were in deep thought.

“Well that is definitely…” You paused, “Empty, and what a waste to allow such a beautiful piece of crystal to not be filled with the finest, oldest, snootiest wine.” The two of you continued to laugh and joke until the waiter came to take your order.

You cleared your throat to compose yourself. Jimin covered his mouth attempting to stop laughing as the waiter pretended he didn’t see the way you guys had been joking.

“What can I get for you tonight?”

“You go first.” Jimin said, and you did.

This was easy; he was making this all too easy. You thought to yourself as you watched him slowly expose more and more of his true self. You too were beginning to reveal parts of yourself that weren’t usually shown. You wouldn’t describe yourself as a closed off person, but this was certainly much more open than you were on any other first date.

As the date went on, you found it growing more and more enjoyable than expected. You learned he had danced ever since he learned how to walk. And you told him how you’d spend hours and hours outside staring at the clouds for one art project that ended up not even being graded. You and him spoke about the big important details of your lives like your parents and where you lived and your dream careers, as well as the small things that gave you insight on each other’s personality like your favorite song to listen to when you were sad or if you preferred waffles or pancakes.

It was simple, and normal and sweet. You’d never imagined going on a date with anyone but your soulmate would feel this nice.

“So, what’s your thing?” He questioned in between bites of his food.

“My thing?” You paused in thought for a moment, “I really like drawing, obviously, since I help design art exhibits. But I have to say, I’ve got some dance moves up my sleeves.” You answered playfully, and he laughed. You smiled at his laugh as if you’d heard it a thousand times before and your fondness of it increased every time he did, especially if you were the reason for it.

“Oh, that’s intimidating. Are you trying to show me up, ___?” Jimin joined along with your jest.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You responded flatly despite the wide grin still plastered across your face.

“Hm, I don’t know, I think I gotta see these dance moves. Dinner and entertainment sounds nice.” He suggested, reaching out to lightly grasp your hand that was resting on the table. You wanted to ignore the fluttering that erupted in your stomach and traveled up to your fingertips and down to your feet, but it was too strong to ignore. Your face grew hot and you could tell your cheeks turned a bit flushed.

Jimin smiled cavalierly upon noticing your reaction to this move.

“Maybe some other time. We can’t let all these people know that we’re secretly children.” You laughed, avoiding eye contact with him. His confidence was magnetizing and intimidating all at once; you couldn’t keep track of how many times your eyes wandered everywhere except for his eyes because of this.

“So, does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” He construed from your comment to which you responded by snapping your focus to his eyes, finally. You were met with this affectionate glare, unable to prevent a nervous laugh to fall from your lips.

“And so if it was?” You responded and painted the best poker face you could manage, not wanting to give anything way quite yet. Part of you wanted him to confirm his interest in you, after all his ring was green, not black like yours. It was the giant elephant in the room, and you both were well aware you weren’t soulmates. However, neither of you dared to bring that up. You didn’t know how to interpret his soulmate ring, or the fact that he wore it tonight.

Was it just force of habit? Did he wear it in hopes you’d be the one? Is he put off by the fact that it’s still green and not white?

“Well, I’d be relieved to know you feel the same way as I do.” He said a bit hesitantly, “I definitely want to see you again.” Jimin tightened his grip on your hand, arousing even more butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

After dinner, you and Jimin decided that you didn’t want the date to end just yet. So, when Jimin suggested you two take a walk in the park across the street, you happily accepted the offer.

The night was warm, and when you looked up the clarity of the thousands of stars was overwhelming. Your eyes traced the silhouettes of the trees that towered over you and him, your stare fixed on how the stars danced between the spaces of the branches and leaves. The back of your hand would occasionally brush against his throughout your conversation and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

“Favorite movie to watch when it’s rainy?” Jimin asked.

“Princess Bride.” You replied.

“Magic Mike.” He said and you giggled, nudging him lightly with your arm. “I can appreciate attractive men.”

“What’s your pet peeve?” You interjected.

“When people wear flip flops in winter. No one needs to see that.”

“Ah, well then you’d be really annoyed with me.” He looked at you, puzzled and worried. You tried to keep a serious expression but a smile crept on your face. “Kidding.”

He nudged you this time. You didn’t notice that you had migrated closer, or perhaps he to you, and your shoulders bumped gently against each other.

“I hate when people make that gross noise with their mouth when they eat.”  

“Oh, like this?” Jimin leaned his head towards your ear to imitate that sound to which you dodged your head away. He laughed at your disgust. The way you scrunched your face at this sound made him forget about how his shirt itched against his neck, or how he had been a bit drowsy as it grew late into the night, or that he needed to pee, or anything else that would have made him want to go home. You were here, and it gave him every reason to stay.

As the conversation began to die down, he resourcefully brought up a subject that was commonly discussed on dates, “So, has your ring ever turned white?” His question, though heavy, had an innocent intent. Of course, you couldn’t blame him for asking. He had no idea.

“Um…” You cleared your throat for you were significantly caught off guard, “Actually, my ring is black.” Your reply was slow and bore such heartache that subsequently slashed into Jimin’s chest as well. Silence seeped in. You looked away from the sky, dragging your feet gently against the ground. “It happened two years ago.”

“Oh,” Jimin responded. He’d never met anyone personally with a black ring, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him, “I’m so sorry for your loss, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Jimin. Don’t worry about it.” Your tone revealed to him that it meant more to you than it did to most people, and he felt even guiltier now that this topic was of discussion. He cursed to himself regrettably, realizing how well the date had been going up to this point.

“No, for real. It was kind of a personal question.” He attempted to console you; his eyes never left you. “I guess I never really cared about the ring that much.” To be fair, his was still green so there was nothing much to worry about.

“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been cursed with a hopelessly romantic heart ever since I could remember. I blame it all on my mom. I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.” You smiled to yourself, reminiscing in the countless times you would tell your mom you swore your ring looked white just to make her happy. You knew it wasn’t white and so did she, but you hoped so hard that sometimes, it did look white. He hummed lightly in response to you. He didn’t want to speak because to him, hearing you talk, even if it was ridden with sadness, was unquestionably the most beautiful thing. More so than heavenly bells or calm tides that washed against the shore.

“I don’t think that’s a curse.” You looked at him when he said this, only to find he’d already been staring at you.

Why did he look at you like that, like he was reading every detail of your soul with such ease? And yet, for some reason, you didn’t mind that maybe you’d become entirely transparent to him. You were okay with being seen by him; and you liked the way he looked at you, warm and gentle and kind and caring.

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, like I said, I don’t think much of these rings.” He glanced down to his own, “I wear it because there’s no harm in it, but I’ve known people who end up miserable because they were never able to find their soulmate.” He looked back to you, noticing how your eyes were glazed with tears. Jimin chuckled softly, to which you, now, instinctively replied with a smile.

Please laugh. Laugh again and again and again for it seems to be the only think that makes the hurt not hurt as much. You spoke this prayer internally.

“You’re describing me to a tee.” You said quietly, feeling a bit ashamed of how many years of pining that amounted to such a heartbreaking end. He nodded with compassion.

“Exactly. I don’t want to invalidate your pain. I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but I want you to know you have every right to be upset over this. People are so desensitized to these rings, it’s a shame how lowly they are considered nowadays.” It was refreshing to hear such kind words. Every so often, you wished to care as little as everyone else. You could only wish.

“What about you?” You asked tentatively, “I know you say you don’t care much about the ring, but it must mean something to you for you to say that, right?” You tried your best not to sound accusatory but rather curious.

“Yeah. I do and I don’t care. I want you to know that part of me doesn’t care because um, I really like you.” He spoke genuinely and those damn butterflies kept pervading into your stomach, “But I have to admit I do care about it. A part of me thinks it would be nice to find them.” He paused, “I’ve grown to realize, though, that if I spend my entire life only searching for them, then that’s robbing me of so many life experiences. So of course, finding them would be nice, but not necessarily ideal. Soulmate or not, you can love someone. Just because they aren’t necessarily ‘the one’ doesn’t minimize the amount of happiness they bring into your life. Every day I find more and more that love never really runs out. You fall in love with a lot of things. Your best friend, or your dog, or your favorite book, or the way someone’s skin glows so beautifully against the moonlit sky.” He was quite obviously referring to you, and you had caught this. “And no matter how many things get added to that list, love never runs out.”

As he spoke, you pictured Wheein and your mom and the feeling you got when you finished an art piece you’d been working on for hours. There was no denying how incredibly happy that made you. Everything he had said was right.

“Not only that, there are the people who lost their soulmate and still find someone to love. So, if this is all possible, what good would it do to close myself off like that? And you’d never know if your love for your soulmate would actually be better than your love for someone else, right?”

“You’re absolutely right.” You said, and it was all you could say without crying your eyes out. Hearing someone express their ideas of love like that expanded your perception about the soulmate ring. Maybe you had been too quick to ward off any other chance of love that didn’t come from your soulmate. You’ve heard the speech a million times before, but when he said it, it resonated so deeply.

Walking in the park with Jimin that night, you really believed there was a way to love again. You missed that hopeful feeling. “Thank you. I don’t know how you knew, but that was something I needed to hear for a long time.”

Jimin gazed at you; your eyes were soft and sad. He felt this overwhelming impulse to grab your hand and profess that he’d never let anything hurt you like that black ring did. He, too, was a hopeless romantic but he kept that piece of him hidden. You were the one to effortlessly draw that side out form where it was kept safe from the world. He prospected it ironic, almost laughable, that you had no clue.

Be careful with your heart. He’d been repeating this phrase throughout the night but he felt his guard surrendering to you. He didn’t stop it either.

Every bone in his body was urging for him to keep his distance, to not cross the line yet, but his heart craved to kiss you.

You halted when he stepped close to you. You predicted what was about to happen, and the timing of it was exactly perfect, and imperfect; and it felt like it was supposed to happen. So, you let it because you wanted to allow yourself the chance at love again, even if it wasn’t with your soulmate. He leaned in with caution, allowing you to brace yourself as his lips became close to yours. You could feel so much warmth radiating from him. The crickets chirped and the wind stilled.

You closed your eyes as he was about to kiss you until you felt an extremely apparent shock in your chest. It wasn’t painful per say, but livening. You felt as if the part of you that had been dull for two years was suddenly revived. Your mind dared to wonder if what happened meant the impossible. You flinched and jumped back from Jimin, and his face grew worried.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, “Did I just read that situation completely wrong?” Jimin’s hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“No! No it wasn’t you, I just” You tried to reassemble your thoughts to form a proper sentence but you couldn’t focus on anything other than what that feeling in your chest meant. You knew it was no ordinary sensation. Its feeling held remarkable resemblance of that pain the day your ring turned black, but this time it wasn’t a heartbreak.

It could only be properly described as a surge of rejuvenation that rasped throughout your soul.

“Is there something wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He noticed you were clutching your chest tightly. He stepped towards you in a concerned manner.

“No, I’m okay, I just, I think I have to go.” You half-mindedly glanced at him, and then down to his ring which glowed green. Your longing to see that color shine from your own ring again had never felt stronger than right now. It was alarming how certain you were that something felt different.

He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with his kind smile. “Okay, I, uh, I hope to hear from you soon.” You returned a smile unable to respond to him with words, then walked away to your car. You felt awful for the way you ended things so abruptly with Jimin, but now was not the time to worry over that.

There was only one thing on your mind.

Before driving, you slowly reached to grab the ring and pull it out from beneath your dress. Your hand clamped tightly around it, hesitant to check its color. 

There’s no way.

You waited a few moments, gathering the courage to look and placating your mind which was overflowing with confusion and wonderment. Finally, your eyes slowly trailed down to your hand, you could feel the heat rising throughout your entire body. Your heart raced at a violent speed, just as it did two years ago. Every thought and feeling that ran through your mind and heart was painfully familiar.

Your eyes rested in suspense on your knuckles, turned white from how hard you were holding onto that ring.

You unfolded your hands.

And the ring glowed green.

You were certain you had blacked out on the ride home, being that the next moment you grounded yourself back to reality was when you were gracelessly running up to your apartment. Your hands shook as you fiddled with your key to unlock the door, which became an almost impossible task.

When you finally opened the door, Wheein was waiting restlessly on your couch. She stood up with a bright smile, “How was it?” She then noticed how out of breath you were which was confusing, “Why are you breathing so hard, did you run home or something?”

You walked up to her without saying a word and lifted the necklace. She shot you a look as if you had lost your mind, then looked down at the ring. Her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth that hung open in awe.

“What. The. Fuck.” She uttered, her hand muffling her voice. You shook your head as you pulled the chain off then placed in her hand. She took it immediately and brought it close to her face. Wheein elongated her blinks to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

“Is that even possible?” She asked, her attention glued to the ring.

“I don’t know. At first, I thought maybe it was a glitch? But I felt this weird sensation in my chest. It felt like I was struck by lightening or something.” Your hand returned to where you felt the shock. Your memory of that feeling was strikingly vivid that you swore it’s aftershock still reverberated in your chest.

“___, I don’t think the universe or god, or whatever the fuck that conceived these rings, glitches.” Wheein laughed at your comment, “Thank god for the internet.” She said conclusively, as she motioned you to get your laptop.

You ran to your bedroom then returned with your laptop in hand. You then sat down at the table and Wheein quickly joined you. She placed the ring next to your laptop and leaned against the table with one hand while bending down until your computer screen was in eye-level. Suspense singed the air

Your fingers quickly typed into the search bar, ‘Can black rings turn green again?’

Wheein huffed as you scrolled through the extremely limited results, “It’s so annoying that you type actual questions into google.” You laughed at her impeccable ability to tease you.

“Is that so important right now? Of all times…” You shook your head, finding an article that seemed like a reliable source. “Okay, the Global Institute of Soulring Research says that there are extremely rare instances of blackened rings that returned to green. They’ve only received, uh,” You scrolled down the page, “14 reports of this occurrence?”

“Damn, 14? In the whole world?” Wheein commented with disbelief.

“These rare cases are exclusively due to heart transplants since it has been proven the rings are directly connected to the heart organ. However, there is no explanation as to why only a scarce 14 rings returned to green, while most rings remained black even after a successful heart transplant operation. Researchers theorized multiple explanations of this phenomenon, but none have shown sufficient data to prove why the color changed back. Studies are still being conducted by our laboratories stationed across the world, but scientists are unable to confirm the cause of these rare instances.”

“Holy shit. ___, does this mean that…” She hesitated, “You know.”

“My soulmate’s heart is in another person. That’s pretty much all we can assume at this point.” You said, your voice sounded deflated and unimpressed with the answer the article gave. You stood up and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

Wheein took the chair when you left and read another few articles and data sites, most of which had minimal information on this predicament, “All these articles are saying pretty much the same thing.” She sounded just as disappointed as you did.

You returned, taking long sips of your water. “So, basically this means nothing? Just that my soulmate’s heart is in someone who isn’t my soulmate.”

Wheein was surprised at your lack of effort to formulate a theory that proved you had another soulmate, “No, not necessarily. Think about it!” She paused momentarily, and upon observing you weren’t in any mood to entertain her demands she continued, “There’s a reason most rings don’t turn green again! It may not be explained but I think the fact that it’s so rare means that your ring turning green again has some significance, right?” Her words grew desperate. You wanted to give in, but this whole situation didn’t feel real.

“And what if it means nothing?” You snapped, your words were abrasive.

There had been so much pent up anger that you had to lose your soulmate. You, one of the few people who never allowed their faith in the ring falter until your soulmates heart stopped beating, were the one that had to lose them. It was so unfair and you never forgave the world for taking that away from you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just” You felt instant remorse for snapping at Wheein. Your eyes grew wet, but this crying wasn’t sorrowful. It was frustrated and demanded retribution.

“I died that day. I lost something that already meant the world to me.” You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself, “There’s no certainty that this new person would be anything close to my soulmate. I don’t think wouldn’t be the same even if I miraculously had another soulmate.” You rubbed your eyes to clear away the tears.

“I understand that but, it just doesn’t seem like a coincidence?” Wheein urged, her unwavering tenacity found its use now more than ever, “It’s almost like the universe gave you a second chance. A literal, second chance.” You smiled at her, agreeing whole-heartedly.

There was a long silence. She wasn’t saying anything you didn’t already believe; she was merely reminding that you could never stop chasing your soulmate. It wasn’t in your nature to give up like that.

“Maybe, I’m scared. But I know you’re right.” You sighed at your aggravating grit, “I could never be fully content knowing I didn’t try.” This brought a smile to Wheein’s face. “I made a promise to my mom years ago, I want to stay true to that.”

“That’s my girl!” She grabbed your ring and placed it back around your neck. You lowered your head to assist her and lifted it back up. It felt so light and warm, you’d almost forgotten that it wasn’t always cold and dark. Wheein picked up your phone and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you planning now, you evil mastermind.” You tried to see what she was doing but she quickly evaded this and shifted the phone away from your line of vision. You laughed lightly, “For real what are you doing?”

“Sh, I’m calling in sick to work for you.” She responded. You immediately reached out and snatched the phone from her hand before she could do anything of the sort.

“Um, absolutely not!” You held the phone behind your back and out of her reach. She instinctively pouted out her lip. “No! Don’t you use those puppy eyes at me!”

“But, this is a miracle! And that’s not even an exaggeration, this is a literal miracle! Mission: find ___’s soulmate is a-go!” You laughed loudly at this assertion, knowing it well-intentioned and wildly unrealistic.

“Now hold on, as tempting as that sounds, I can’t go rearranging my entire life for this soulmate. How about we save that for the weekends, deal?” Your eyebrows were raised hoping she would yield to your request.

“___, it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore!” She claimed in a joking, dramatic way. “Certainly, you’re not the same girl who stood up on the cafeteria table and screaming ‘if anyone here is my soulmate you better show yourself right now!’” Her voice raised in pitch as she mimicked your younger self and her restlessness to find her soulmate. Your hand rubbed the inner corners of your eyes upon recalling that day in second grade, along with the years of teasing from almost everyone in your class. Wheein walked over to your kitchen and you figured it was impossible protest that what she said was wrong.

You did change. You had to.

“Well, I’m 20 now and have responsibilities like paying rent, utilities, and buying food because someone always eats me out of house and home! Look at you, you’ve already found your way to my pantry.” You laughed, this had become a sort of ritual when Wheein would come over. She just waved you off, proceeding to look through your stash of snacks.

You didn’t want to get into the real reason you had changed. At some point during the long period of grieving after your ring turned black, you lost that hope. You lost every sliver of hope because it was unreasonable. You missed it dearly, like an old friend.

It felt like that old friend suddenly walked back into your life with no warning. It never asked for your permission or waited for you prepare. It barged in without knocking and claimed its rightful place.

But you wondered if it was the ring that reunited you with this feeling. If not the green ring than what? Or more fitting to ask, Who?

Wheein was about to pass out on the couch before asking, “Oh, how did the date go by the way?”

That question twisted your insides. Your every thought prior to this halted. Your time with Jimin nearly slipped your mind but his laugh rang in your head.

You wished you could hear it again.

“It was good. Really good.” You smiled softly to yourself, knowing damn well what an understatement that was. Wheein was going to interrogate you about this tomorrow for sure but she was already half asleep.

As you were trying to fall asleep, two things seemed to be at war over which would take precedence in your mind.

One was who your soulmate is, and how you knew there was nothing in this world that could deter you from finding them.

Two was the fact that Jimin had single-handedly made you question everything you once believed about soulmates and love.

The next day you woke up to Wheein making some sort of racket in your kitchen. Before you were able to fully awaken, you began to wonder how big of a mess you’d have to clean up after Wheein was finished. This was followed by an incessant need to call Jimin and apologize profusely for abandoning him in the midst of your date. The only thing you could credit yourself with was handling things very, very wrong.

You stood up and sluggishly waddled to your bathroom. When you met with the mirror, you immediately noticed the green ring hanging from your neck reflecting to you. You’d almost forgotten. Your hand raised to touch it and make sure it wasn’t your imagination. This had been too surreal.

Next thing you knew, Wheein barged into your room, “Wakey Wak- wait where are you?” She searched your bed only to find you weren’t even in your room. Wheein turned around to discover you already out from the bathroom and sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh! I made you breakfast! Even though you ruined the surprise and woke up before I could come get you.” Her passive-aggression made you smile. She joined you at the table where a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two baked potatoes with cheese were laid out neatly.

“I give your presentation an A, but the real test is how it tastes.” You said, then scooping a bite of the eggs into your mouth, “Mmm, B-, they’re runny.” You said jokingly. Wheein crumpled up her napkin and aimed it right at your forehead. “Hey!”

“I’ll take that as a thank you!” She laughed and began to eat the breakfast.

“So um…” You swallowed your food and took a long sip of your orange juice, trying to stall what you were about to say, “Can I have, uh, can you give me Jimin’s number?”

Wheein nearly spit out the giant bite of pancakes she just stuffed in her mouth, “Really?” She spoke with her mouth still full of food.

“I just want to apologize about last night!”

Last night.

“Oh my god, wait I didn’t even ask you what happened! Tell me every detail!” She demanded, still paying no mind to her mouth overflowing with pancake. You laughed and cleared your throat.

Those butterflies came again just thinking about the date. You wondered if that feeling was going to become habitual every time you thought of him.

“I will later, can I just have his number so I can explain to him I’m not a total bitch?” You held your phone waiting for her to read you the numbers.

After she gave you the number while whining that she didn’t like to be kept waiting, you shushed her as you dialed.

The phone rang about four times before he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hi!” Your voice came out louder than anticipated which startled Jimin into fully waking up, “Sorry! Were you still sleeping?” You lowered your voice to an appropriate level.

“Yeah I was, uh, who is this?” Jimin replied, his voice was low and raspy in the mornings. That trait was alluring to you, so much that your attention lingered on the sound of his voice. You then quickly snapped back to reality.

“It’s ___! Sorry to wake you but I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am for dipping last night. I swear it wasn’t anything you did. I had a great time.” Your hand nervously tapped against the side of your leg.

On the other side of the phone, you heard his laugh. You were lucky he was one to laugh a lot.

“Hey! Good morning, ___. Don’t worry about it. I’m not as fragile as I look!” He laughed again before continuing, “Are you all good? You had me kinda worried.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was probably just a panic attack or something.” You lied through your teeth. Your palm met your forehead in ridicule of that but you hoped it was believable enough to explain your actions.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’re doing better today.” His concerned response was comforting. Jimin sat up on his bed now fully invested in this conversation.

“I’m definitely better, thank you. I feel so bad though.”

“If you really feel bad then I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” He said with a slight upturn in his voice.

He was flirting. You had no success with resistance. Jimin’s charm was enigmatic and had you not only reciprocating his energy, but willingly flirting back.

“Well, I usually charge big bucks for this, but yes, I’ll give you free dance lessons.” You playfully responded, feeling proud when he chuckled gingerly at your offer.

“You read my mind.” He paused. A momentary lapse of conversation occurred causing Jimin to frantically search for any lame, surface level question to ask you so you wouldn’t end the call.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Well, I just woke up and I’m eating breakfast with Wheein. I think we’re planning on going to the mall later today. What about you?” Your fingers naturally started to twirl your hair. You felt like a giddy middle schooler when they would share a meaningless glance with their crush.

“I’ll probably go to the dance studio if it doesn’t rain today.”

“You should join us.” That response came a little too quickly and you swore you had no idea where or why you invited him.

All you were sure of was that you really wanted him to say yes.

“Are you sure? Last time I went shopping with Wheein she forced me to stop at the pet adoption and we stood there for an hour and a half while she swore to this one puppy she would come back and adopt it.” He recounted but was unable to explicitly say no to your offer.

“It’ll be fun!” You coerced, “Plus, we can eat delicious mall food.” You added with a sarcastic inflection.

“Alright, you convinced me. I’ll be there.” He never planned on saying no in the first place but utilized all the tricks in his book to prolong this conversation. “Only because that mall food sounds too good to pass up.”

You shook your fist excitedly in celebration and laughed at his repartee, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet up around two-ish, sound good?”

“Sounds great.” He said shortly prior to you ending the call.

Jimin held his phone against his chest and threw his head back onto his pillow. He chest heaved up and released a long sigh. Two o’clock couldn’t come sooner.

A month passed since your ring was green again. You continued to hang out with Jimin, however the romantic essence when you were together remained stagnant. He didn’t know what kept you at bay from ever moving things forward between you two, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. He always knew how to act around you even when there was something left unsaid. Your friendship did grow strong and quickly. Jimin felt like he knew you so well already, but yearned to learn more and more about you as the days came.

“Jimin, what’s that one piano guy that made the music for Swan Lake?” Wheein asked as she was scribbling some notes on her assignment.

“Piano guy? You mean Tchaikovsky?” He corrected.

“Oh yeah, great. Thanks!” She replied then mouthing the name Jimin had said while writing it down on the paper.

You returned from the kitchen with three sandwiches, “Here everyone! Gourmet pb and j’s made by yours truly.” You set them down one by one on the table where Jimin and Wheein were sitting.

The three of you had become somewhat of a team. Ever since the day at the mall, you guys made a habit of inviting Jimin along until it was a given that he would hang out with you. Wheein was already nicely acquainted with him and, now that his presence grew abundant in her life, she liked having him around. Not to mention that every time the three of you hung out it resulted in some of the fondest memories. Even though Wheein was just as close to Jimin as you were friendship wise, she was still a bit of a third wheel. She noticed how you two would exchange one too many glances and she’d constantly catch Jimin ogling at you while you were drawing or talking or doing pretty much anything.

Whenever you’d leave the room after a clear display of seemingly harmless flirting, Wheein would wiggle her eyebrows at Jimin and say, “You’ve got it bad.”

He wouldn’t say anything because there was no denying it was true.

“Do you have a band-aid I could use, Jimin? I accidentally cut myself with a knife.” You were looking down at your finger where a small cut resided. Wheein was confused but also quite amused with how that was even possible.

“___, you made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. How the hell did you cut yourself?” She asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I wanted to cut off the crusts and cut them into little triangles! It’s cuter that way.” You gestured to the sandwiches which were in fact crustless and cut into triangles.

Jimin thought it was cute how proud you were of your PB and J presentation. Before you noticed how his eyes fondly laid on you, he nodded and said, “Yeah there should be some in my room, lemme show you where they are.”

“Thank you!” You followed him to his bedroom. As soon as you entered, you noticed it smelled exactly like him. This prompting you to inhale on instinct; it resembled what home would smell like if it had a scent. You then walked up behind him and waited for the band aid. Though you’d been in his room plenty of times before, you never stopped admiring how nice it looked. Most men have bland walls and bedsheets and desks but not Jimin.

Posters of his favorite bands, paintings, music scores, and pictures were hung along each wall. Your favorite being the photo of the dance team he’d coached for a junior league dance competition. Even though it was completely cliché, thinking about him interacting with children made you swoon. Something about his gentle positivity gave you an inkling that he was great with kids.

A variety of trinkets were placed neatly on his desk and bedside table. When you first asked them what they were, he excitedly explained the origin story of each and every one. Not once did you grow bored of him, though Wheein’s attention was entrapped in her phone not long after he began talking. If you were listening, he didn’t mind.

Jimin turned around and held up a small band aid, “Ah ha! I knew it was in here.” You peaked over his shoulder to discover his drawer was filled with various random, unorganized household items. You laughed at this, sometimes forgetting he was still a man after all.

“Jimin, how do you find anything ever?” You teased. He ignored your carp and replaced the tissue paper you held against your finger with the band aid.

“You’re very welcome.” It impressed you how he’d always know how to dismiss you when you would playfully criticize him. His hands were soft, and it became incredibly apparent that he was touching you. He finished positioning the band aid and seemed to realize your hands were touching too; his heart jumped and before anything got too tense, he pulled his hand away quickly. You nodded and thanked him. Your focus was pulled away from that moment when you noticed a new thing sitting on his bed side table.

It was a framed picture of what you guessed was a young Jimin and his mother. You walked over to it excitedly, leaning down to get a better look at it. “Oh my god, Jimin, this is adorable! Is that your mom?”

“Yeah,” He was giving you that same fond stare. Jimin came to realize you were the type to notice small things like that and expressed interest. These small gestures could easily be overlooked by anyone else, and usually people don’t care enough to make anything of these little details, but not you. You always noticed. Perhaps he was overthinking this trait of yours, but it made Jimin feel special in your eyes.

“Aw, lil’ baby Jimin! Look at your tiny little arms!” You squealed with eyes squinted from smiling. “What’s this one’s story?”

“My mom gave it to me for my birthday.” To this, you spun around and hit him with your uncut hand on his shoulder, “Ow!”

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday? What the hell?” Your eyebrows were furrowed, positively astonished he would keep something like that from you.

“What? It’s not that big of a deal!” Jimin reasoned, rubbing the spot on his arm that you punched surprisingly hard.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I hate my birthday’ people.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. If you had known it was his birthday, you and Wheein would have certainly plotted the best surprise party of Jimin’s life.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” He looked away from you coyly, and you laughed. Jimin looked to the ground trying not to get too embarrassed, “It’s true though. I don’t know why but birthdays are so weird and uncomfortable to me.”

“How is getting a bunch of presents, having people tell you how grateful they are to have you in their lives, and getting an entire day dedicated to your existence weird? How could you not like that? I love that!” You shook your head, unable to comprehend how any sane person wouldn’t enjoy a birthday.

“Well, you make a good point but that doesn’t cancel the fact that, one, I hate cake, two, I don’t like people feeling obligated to get me a present, and three, people singing happy birthday to you is so awkward! Like what do you even do, where do you look?” He spoke passionately, making you laugh even harder at how devoted he was to argue this point.

“Okay you’re right. Making eye contact with someone while they serenade happy birthday to you is wildly uncomfortable.” He nodded triumphantly to your response.

“See I-” Jimin was interrupted by Wheein walking into the room and slumping onto Jimin’s bed. You and Jimin turned to her.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” She complained, sinking comfortably into the bed, “Were you guys making out in here or what.” Jimin’s face turned red and you scoffed at her insolence. You knew she was trying to fluster you both in revenge for making her wait.

“Jimin’s just told me his birthday passed, and we missed it and he didn’t tell us on purpose.” You snitched on him to change the subject as quickly as possible. Wheein sat up and widened her eyes in exaggerated shock.

“How could you? I’ve never felt more hurt in my life than right now.” She insisted as you smugly looked to Jimin. He remorsefully bowed his head the same way a child would when he was caught doing something he knew wasn’t supposed to.

“I am at a loss for words. Ladies, my deepest apologies.” Wheein laughed and looked back at you.

“Wheein and I will let it slide this time. We’ll make up for it when you least expect it.” You winked at Wheein then looked at Jimin with a mischievous smile.

“She’s right.” Wheein affirmed.

You loved this. You loved the way you felt around him. You never wanted things to change despite the glaringly obvious mishap of your green ring. You wanted there to be no need to tarnish that. Sadly, you knew that could never be the case.

You and Wheein were impatient, to put it simply. When the two of you wanted to get something done, you both had this now or never mindset. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, however this meant Jimin’s birthday celebration would undergo planning as soon as possible. You suggested the idea of a fun trip to the beach late at night when the crowds had cleared. Wheein loved this idea and expounded upon that by requesting there would be food, but not cake, candles, balloons, confetti, and a decorative set up for the three of you to enjoy.

It was around 10:00 pm by the time you were finished laying out a large beach blanket and a basket of food, along with the balloons that were held down by rocks you had found along the shore, candles placed on tiny dishes so it wouldn’t cause a fire hazard, and a mini speaker to play music.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this.” You took a few paces back to admire the finished product. Everything was decorated with extra detail being that you were an artist who preferred things to look aesthetically pleasing.

“We really knocked it out of the part with this one. We gotta take pictures when he gets here to remember all our hard work.” She stood beside you and joined in your reverence of Jimin’s surprise birthday picnic.

You received a text from the group chat that Wheein had made of the three of you.

“Oh, shit he’s almost here! Let’s get in position.” You bounced over to the front of the blanket, as well as Wheein, to hide the surprise from Jimin and picked up handfuls of confetti to toss when he arrived.

You could see his figure in the distance, now growing clearer as he approached the area you had set up. He tried to peak behind you both, curious of what you were standing in front. Before he could figure it out on his own, you and Wheein stepped aside and quickly threw the confetti up in the air. The small pieces of tissue flitted down ornately which tied the presentation together nicely.

“Surprise!” You said in unison with Wheein. Jimin threw his head back giggling and his hands crossed over his heart when he saw what you two had planned.

“You guys! What is this?” He took a few steps forward, bundling the two of you in a hug with each arm.

“It’s just our way of saying happy belated birthday.” Wheein answered, pulling you and him in tighter to the group hug.

Jimin pulled away and inspected the blanket and the items placed neatly over it. His hands cupped both his cheeks and he was so grateful that he’d almost forgotten how much he hated birthdays.

“I absolutely love it. Thank you, guys so so much.”

“Before you start worrying, there is no cake, there will be no singing, and this picnic is kinda our ‘gift’ so technically, no gifts!” You added, walking over to the blanket and seating yourself. You motioned for the other two to join you and they joyfully obliged.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of laughter, long talks, two emptied wine bottles as well as a plate now cleared of all its food, Wheein daring you to run into the water to which you refused adamantly, and exactly one corny speech from Jimin about how much he appreciated you and Wheein.

“A few months ago, I was so stressed and overwhelmed with life. I had this huge fight with my dance teacher and my boss told me she had to cut back my hours because we were overstaffed so I was worried about rent and stuff. If I’m being honest I wasn’t all that great mentally. I don’t know it was rough for a while. Then I met ___, and we all started hanging out and it made me really happy.” He looked down at his wine glass, trying not to get too emotional, “Anyway, I really appreciate you guys for being in my life.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, giving him a partial hug from the side. Wheein pretended to be disgusted with this, but you caught her tearing up while Jimin was talking.

“And we really appreciate you were born and didn’t get scared off by us when we forced you to become our friend.” You said before pulling Wheein into the hug.  

“This is the absolute worst timing but I have to pee…” Wheein huffed as she stood up contemplating what to do.

“The ocean’s right there.” Jimin said, holding his hand out to point to the shore.

“Absolutely not! Not in front of you!” She kicked him lightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll turn away!”

“No, I read this story once about how a worm swam up into someone’s – thing – when they peed in the ocean. I’m not about to have a parasite living with me, I’ve already got you two!” You nodded as this claim was irrefutable. Jimin laughed, never getting tired of Wheein’s hilarious quips.

“We can go back to my place?” You suggested.

“No no no, I haven’t even gotten to force you two to get into the water yet. And its only,” She paused to check her phone, “Twelve. Also, I thought we were gonna stay and watch the sunset!” She tapped her foot against the sand. “Okay, ___, give me your keys. I’m going to quickly drive to the gas station I saw a few blocks down and pee there. I promise I won’t abandon you guys here.” Wheein held out her hand to you, waiting for you to give her the keys. You fumbled in your purse and pulled them out.

As she ran to your car, Jimin shook his head still humored at what Wheein said, “She’s something else.”

“Definitely one of a kind.” You concurred. “On another note, I’m glad you enjoyed this. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry you would feel uncomfortable.”

“No, ___, this was perfect.” He said reassuringly. Jimin gazed at you every chance he got. You were looking at the sky and admiring the way the stars shined so brightly. To you, they always seemed to glow significantly more when it was you and Jimin underneath them. He revered the way you looked so in love with the stars, or how you looked so in love with life in general even after what you had been through, and felt his heart race at the sight of your hair flowing gently in the breeze. “You nailed this one, ___.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said confidently as you brushed your shoulders to display your pride. Jimin chuckled at your action.

His laugh. His damn laugh. You thought to yourself and if you could, if you had any ounce of courage, you’d ask him to never stop laughing.

The song “Moon River” began to play on the speaker; Audrey Hepburn’s exquisite voice filled the air. Jimin was aware about how fitting this song with to the ambiance of the night that now only belonged to the two of you. When Wheein left to go to the restroom, the platonic atmosphere followed.

“I actually do want a birthday present.” He spoke quietly. “Dance with me?” Jimin’s nervous laughter trailed his question.

You looked at him unsure of how to interpret this painstakingly romantic request. But, how could you say no when he smiled like that? You nodded without saying a word.

He stood up eagerly and lowered his hand to you. Your hand held his as he pulled you up and stepped close to you. Jimin’s free hand traveled to the small of your back, sparking light tingles that cascaded down your spine. Your free hand met his shoulder; originally your muscles were stiff but the way he swayed you had naturally relaxed you. Eventually your head rested on his opposite shoulder and you felt his head rest gently on yours. As the music played, you felt as if not just this moment, but the whole world belonged only to you and Jimin.

He could have confessed his love for you, but instead he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart raced.

“Thank you.” You said quietly after a short while. “You look beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. You two swayed along for another three songs in silence, and you and jimin would have danced forever if that were an option.

“At this point, you should just quit dancing because I’m clearing running circles around you, Jimin.” You pulled your head back to look at him, and you noticed it looked as if he’d been crying. However, you didn’t say anything about it because you knew why. You were terrifyingly aware and at the same time in denial about how surely you knew why.

“Yeah, you still never gave me those free dance lessons. I’m not letting that go.” He smiled brightly causing his eyes to squint. You scrunched your nose at him and looked down.

“That’s right. Maybe I should show you some moves right now?” You offered.

Jimin raised his eyebrows then swiftly spun you around and wrapped his arm around your lower back to dip you. You gasped and laughed in shock, your head falling back slightly as he held you in this position. When he pulled you up, you were both unable to let the smiles you had subside. He reached his hand to gently remove a strand of hair from your face, curling it delicately behind your ear.

He was seven years old again. His love raged again. This time it was you who planted themselves in his life and he wanted to give you all the water and nutrients and sunlight to grow in his heart forever.

The boy stepped away slowly and gestured for you to, as he put it, show him your moves.

“Okay hold on.” You retrieved your phone and scrolled through your music playlist to find a song that best suited what you were about to do, “Perfect!” An upbeat 80s disco song began to play.

You then contorted your body in a way to resemble a robot, “Check this out.” You lifted your arm and swung it to imitate a machine-like movement. Jimin found this too good to let it go to waste and secretly filmed on his phone what you were doing.

“I can see you’re taking a video and I’m only letting you do that because it’s your birthday.” You then proceeded the switch to a different dance move, “I like to call this the wave. I’m sure a rookie like you hasn’t heard of it.” You raised both of your arms to shoulder level and rolled them back and forth.

“Wow, your technique is absolutely immaculate!” He commended while laughing so hard he gripped his stomach and bent over. He soon joined you in dancing around in the sand.

“What are you two weirdos doing?!” You both turned around to find Wheein running over from the car with her hands cupped around her mouth as she called out.

“Dance party!” You yelled which was overlapped by Jimin’s voice.

“We’re dancing!”

Wheein laughed as she neared the two of you. “Last one in the water has to clean up our stuff!” She said while passing you and Jimin and heading straight for the water.

Jimin was quicker to react and chased after Wheein, pushing her lightly to throw her off track, soon followed by you racing to catch up. Though you swore you wouldn’t go into the water, you ran towards it with no hesitance. You’d follow them anywhere.

“No fair, you got a head start!” Soon all three of you crashed into the water. The waves were tame, but they still had a slight force that pushed the water as high as your waist.

Wheein pulled you in deeper and Jimin splashed the water at you two. You both screamed and laughed and played like children.

You wished that night would never end.

The minute you decided to tell him your ring was green again; you knew things would have to change and you dreaded it. It grew increasingly difficult to keep that from him and a part of you felt like you were misleading him by not telling him the truth.

“I owe it to him. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of us. I clearly think of him as more of than friend. I’m not denying that, but you know I can’t do anything about that, not with this.” You’d say as you held up your ring for reference.

“You don’t have you. You could just let things play out and hope for the best?” Wheein suggested knowing this wouldn’t suffice.

“I can tell he likes me more than a friend. I can see it every time he looks at me with those puppy eyes.” You gave her a disapproving look and she nodded.

“I know you’re right. I just don’t want Jimin to be too hurt, you know? The guy is a softie at heart.”

She was right. Jimin would act like nothing ever affected him, but out of the three of you, he was the most sensitive and experienced his feelings the most intensely. Just the idea of what his face would look like or how his smile would dwindle when you told him about your ring made your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way to avoid this, because like you said, you owe Jimin complete honesty and you refused to abstain anything less than what was best for him.

“I know, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for doing this.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He’s a softie, but so are you. ___, I’m worried about you too. Are you sure letting this go is the right decision? I can tell you’re already starting to miss him and you haven’t even let him go yet.” She placed her hand on your back to comfort you. Wheein knew you well enough that she didn’t have to ask how you were feeling.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this.” Anticipation began to seep through your veins. “Right? I mean my whole life I’ve been dedicated to ending up with my soulmate. I’ve ended things with so many guys before things got too serious. And I had no problem doing it then, but this time.” You began to tear up picturing Jimin, “It’s so much harder.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. That’s up for you to decide but I hope you know I will support your decision. Whichever it is.” Wheein pulled you into a hug, soft and reassuring. You propped your chin on her shoulder and ran your hands along her upper back.

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

As you pulled away, you looked down at your ring and for once, you didn’t feel that excitement upon seeing it green. Instead, it became burdensome that you felt this obligation to honor it. You were beginning to feel trapped. As if this decision wasn’t up to you anymore, but to this ring.

A few days later, you and Jimin were sitting out in the same park that you walked along on your first date together. The grass danced with the wind and the tree that loomed above the two of you provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun. Gentle rays of sunlight permeated among the leaves and their shadows danced along yours and Jimin’s bodies. The air felt clean and cool, giving perfect ambiance to spark inspiration for your artwork.

Jimin was laying down beside you, staring up at the sky while you two chatted nonsensically for hours.

“I’ll give you five bucks if you can guess what kind of bird just chirped.” He spoke lazily while his eyes trailed their way to you.

“Ostrich.” Your replied with a candid tone and your eyes transfixed on the page in front of you. Jimin chuckled lightly which diverted your attention to him as it always did.

“Just for that I’m eating the rest of your blueberries.” He shoved all of them in his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that adorable, and yet you played it off with a unimpressed glare.

“I was gonna eat those, butthead.”

These small exchanges would fill the silence every so often. But even when neither of you spoke, you felt no desire to say anything. Just sitting with him in that park was enough to delight you.

You stared at Jimin as his eyes traced the puffy clouds above. With your pencil in hand, inspiration struck. This scenery was so picturesque, it would be a crime to not capture every bit of joy it exuded.

You turned to a blank page in your sketchbook and started to outline the shape of Jimin’s face and body. Your pencil glided against the paper gently, that sound of charcoal running along the pages of your sketchbook grew fond to Jimin’s ears. He rarely looked at what you would draw because he knew your sketchbook functioned as your version of a diary; he simply loved that sound because it meant you were beside him.

You quickly sketched each curve of his body along with the bed of grass on which he lied and the tall tree behind him with as much precision as you could before he shifted positions. Then you began to add shading and small details that livened the drawing a bit more. Once you were finished, you held your finished work out to examine whether you were satisfied with it. You nodded to yourself then nudged Jimin.

He turned his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in substitution of a vocal acknowledgment.

“Look.” You gently tossed your book onto the grass near his head.

He quickly sat up and lifted the book with both hands. He rested it on his lap and gazed at it for quite a while. A smile slowly appeared on Jimin’s face and he thought to himself how beautifully accurate you were at being able to capture these moments in life. This moment was precious to him, along with every other moment he spent with you doing nothing.

And those nothing moments were everything to him. They were everything to you too.

“___, you never cease to blow me away.” Jimin spoke in a whisper because he only wanted you to hear. He wanted so desperately to kiss you.

Oh god, your conscious couldn’t handle keeping it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“So um, Jimin. I don’t know how to say this…” You laughed nervously due to how uncomfortable you were with this even before the conversation started.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, and before he could realize what was about to be said was going to be serious, he said, “I know what you’re going to say. You lied and totally didn’t watch the movie I recommended to you!”, earning a soft chuckle from you. It substantially lighted the mood. He tied with Wheein for always knowing how to ease your nerves without even trying.

But your face returned blank when you finally gathered the courage to blurt it out, “My ring turned green again.”

His smile vanished and it was an absolute tragedy you were the reason for that.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin.” He knew what this meant. He knew what you were going to say before you even said it. He stood up and paced around the area, prompting you to get up and trail behind him. He had a habit of lacking the ability to sit still when he was facing something that troubled him.

He struggled to figure out what he felt about this. Every emotion blurred and converged into one unsettling mess.

“I’m not going to pretend like this is easy for me because its not. I like you and spending time with you has made me so so happy, please believe me when I say that.” Your voice began to shake. Jimin hated when your voice sounded anything but cheerful.

“I know it sounds like bullshit, but I’m being honest, god, I can’t convey how much you mean to me. I know we only met months ago but I feel like what we have isn’t some fling. Like, you’re already one of my best friends.” Those words, though consoling in theory, pained Jimin so deeply. He wanted to be more than that.

“I don’t think of you as some back up to keep me from being lonely if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be damned before I let you believe that, but I can’t just ignore-” The hundreds of things you were practicing in your head had spilled out of your mouth in a jumbled mess. It was much more difficult to say these things to Jimin than your bathroom mirror or Wheein.

“Stop,” He spoke with such poise that you did nothing more but obey. His footsteps halted and You pressed your lips together in fear of what was about to be said. He was staring at the grass, the green color mocked him. Jimin hated green right now.

It pained you to see he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you.

He’s going to hate you forever. You thought to yourself and you tried to brace your heart for losing him forever. All because you lacked the backbone to be honest with him from the beginning.

He didn’t speak for a while, for what felt like an eternity. The wind that whipped against the leaves of the trees and blades of grass filling the silence you were once comfortable in.

Jimin suddenly turned around and wrapped his arms around you; your head was pressed tightly against his chest and his chin rested gently atop your head so perfectly. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, each tap synchronized with your heart.

“You idiot, why are you apologizing?” Your eyes closed to obstruct any tears that were about to form.

“You know why.” Your words were muffled, which Jimin found tortuously adorable. “You can hate me if you want.”

He laughed softly, that alone expressed more to you than any number of things he could say.

The sound of his laugh that you’d grown to miss on the days you hadn’t seen him never sounded so beautiful. When he laughed, he painted himself on a canvas for you to admire and with each stroke he added, you were able to learn every intricate detail of him.

Jimin’s laughter spoke to you, you swore it. You clearly heard it tell you that he could never and would never hate you. Comfort and ease. You never felt anything less than comfort and ease in his arms.

“___, I know how much this means to you.” He planted a soft kiss against your head which felt like a goodbye. Not to you, but to the hope that he could ever take the place of your soulmate. The smell of your hair exuding off so gently, and he thought you smelled like vanilla and stardust. Jimin did everything he could to sound strong. He wanted nothing but to be happy for you, and if this meant he had to let you chase after your soulmate there was no way in the world he’d let his feelings stop you from doing that. “I’m already planning a want ad that will be posted on every building within a hundred-mile radius!” His voice rose in enthusiasm. You could tell it was all a façade.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.” Your head nestled against his chest.

“I am.” He quickly replied then repeated, “I am.”

If only he could have made this easier on you. If he would have gotten mad or yelled at you or said he would never forgive you then doing this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But he did none of that. He was ever so kind and understanding and selfless.

You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest as a cross between a sigh and a laugh released from you. He acted like he didn’t care that you had just “broken up” with him. Jimin was nothing if not selfless.

Your ring was green. You had another chance to find your soulmate; it was everything you’d ever hoped for your whole life. So, why did you feel like you’d just made a mistake?

“Jimin, I know I hurt you. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I just,” You huffed, “I just should have been honest. I’m sincerely sorry. You are the last person I want to hurt.” Jimin looked down at you and you stared up at him. He couldn’t stand when you frowned, which inclined him to use his thumbs to lift the sides of your mouth, so it looked like you were smiling. You laughed at this sweet gesture.

“This soulmate of yours better not be a dancer or we’ll have a problem.” He joked in attempt to evade how true what you said was. You threw your head back laughing again.

All Jimin really cared about was that you were always in his life. And even though it felt like you had ripped every root of yourself out of him, he knew he would keep that spot in his heart empty for you. 

For you, and every nothing moment. Nothing was everything with you,

You were completely drenched in sweat and jolted awake from your sleep. Your first instinct was to call Wheein, but you remembered she had an exam the next day.

You then picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You pressed the call button with your thumb and brought the phone to your ear.

The phone rang shortly before being picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.” You greeted her softly. Her voice was soothing and low.

“What’s wrong, honey?” She asked since it was late in the night and you calling her only meant it was fairly important.

“I just had this really weird dream.” You answered, still perplexed and trying to remember the details of it. You shut your eyes to picture the dream before it faded from your memory, “I was in art class and we were doing this activity where we had to close our eyes and draw something that made us happy. It was something to like exercise our skills of drawing with emotion rather than precision, something like that.” She hummed, listening intently to what you were describing.

“Okay, and so I did it and I wanted to draw what I imagined my soulmate would look like because duh, you know me.” You stood up and paced around your dark room.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” Your mother chuckled softly while she quipped back to you.

“Okay but when I opened my eyes you would not believe who I drew.” You stopped for a second envisioning the face that stared back to you. It made you tense just thinking about it.

“Who?”

“It was Jimin.”

“Jimin? That nice young man you’ve been hanging out with recently. I think you’re absolutely smitten, honey.” Your mom sounded so casual when saying this.

“But…” Your pacing began to speed up, “He’s not my soulmate. I- I don’t know what to think of this. Maybe it’s just my brain? It’s not like you can control what you dream.” You began to ramble in attempts to affirm this didn’t mean anything serious.

“I don’t know, ___. That is an oddly specific dream.” She sounded critical of your aversion to admit this. “Why not give him a chance?” She suggested hesitantly.

“What?” You scoffed in amazement, “I can’t believe you out of all people would say that.” You knew that she knew exactly where your confusion was coming from.

“I know.”

“So why would you say that? I mean, finding my soulmate was something both you and I wanted ever since I could remember?” You grew exhausted from your pacing and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Look. I wanted you to believe in your soulmate. You’re right in that, but it wasn’t just your soulmate I wanted you to believe in. All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to never give up love itself. This world has a way of breaking your heart countless times, and I’ve been around enough to see how empty people’s lives are if they live without love in it. I just wanted to teach you that living a loveless life was meaningless. I refused to allow you to live a meaningless life. I thought that your soulmate ring would act as a reminder that I loved you and I believe you deserved to be loved, but it grew into some dependence on finding your soulmate. ___, when your ring turned black, I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have glorified the ring as much as I did because ring, or no ring, soulmate, or no soulmate, there is no denying that you have feelings Jimin. I can hear it in your voice every time you talk about him. You’d be insane or oblivious to not pick up on that and I know you’re neither of those things.” Your mother waited for you to respond.

You remained silent and still. Your eyes had spaced out to glare at the corner of your room. Coming from anyone else, you would have disregarded their opinion on what you felt for Jimin; your mom, however, was an entirely different story. Hearing it out loud triggered a domino effect in your mind. You realized that your perception of what your mother had been trying to teach you was warped by your obsession with this ring. That hit you and crumbled you like a bulldozer broke down a brick wall. This left you wondering how you’d reconstruct yourself from this. You’d always thought that you were better than those who don’t care about your ring, but now you worried that your intense dedication to it burdened you for your entire life.

It wasn’t your mother to be blamed. You fed the fire more than anyone else could and you see that now.

“Wow.” You were speechless, “I’m an idiot.” You said as if that were some monumental revelation. “He’s not my soulmate and he still has his soulmate out there too.”

“Yes, but you love him. That trumps all reason and resistance. Love will always trump all of that.” A blunt rebuttal spoken with such softness from your mother. “I think you should talk to Jimin.” Your mother said in that classic mother knows best tone.

“I think I agree.”

You and Wheein sat against the back wall of the small dance practice room. Each wall was covered with large mirrors and you’d grown acquaint to this environment. Jimin had been rehearsing a routine for his next show; it was in two weeks and despite him saying that it was one of his less important performances, you insisted you’d be there in the front row cheering a little too loudly.

Your eyes would waver between your sketch book, then to Jimin, then to your book, and back to him. You did your best to portray his dancing as graceful as it was to see in person, but you found it impossible. There was no way to recreate such beauty; this was the one thing that your art could never quite achieve, for every imitation of his movements were inferior, pathetic almost, to the real thing.

Wheein, on the other hand, was far from invested in Jimin’s practicing which didn’t come to a surprise.

She wasn’t utterly in love with him.

She peeked over to your drawing followed by rolled eyes. She grabbed her phone and texted you with a disapproving expression.

Wheein: so are u going to ask him to marry u now or later?

The text notification caught your attention. You looked at her as if to ask why she would text you when you were sitting right next to her. She only nudged you in response to coax you to look at the text. When you finally read it, you shot her another look, this time it exemplified your annoyance.

She sent another text.

Wheein: ???

You tried your best to make this exchange as inconspicuous as possible. You began typing aggressively to release some frustration.

y/n: u suck :p

Wheein laughed and responded.

Wheein: that doensn’t answer my question ;)

y/n: ya we’re planning on a destination wedding

Wheein: lol have you guys talked one on one since that day??

y/n: no and I’m on edge bc I have no idea what he’s been feeling these past few days

Wheein: damn ___ its been a week and y’all haven’t talked yet

y/n: i know :/

Wheein: well just talk to him tonight before everyone else comes

Wheein and Jackson had planned to have a kickback before the new semester came into session. She convinced you to host it on the condition she would provide the snacks and drinks. Jackson and his girlfriend, Seokjin, Sana, Yeji, all friends of you met in college, Dahyun, the girl Wheein had been dating for a few weeks, and Jimin were all going to your place later that night.

y/n: lol… you think talking about how I’m secretly in love with him right before getting drunk with our friends is a good idea???

Wheein looked up from her phone and responded with an aloof shrug. You let out a suppressed snicker and looked back down at your phone.

y/n: you’re so annoying

Wheein: at least im not a pussy!

You only replied with a middle finger emoji. You and Wheein were so invested in your virtual conversation, neither one of you had realized Jimin had finished practicing. He walked over to the two of you unsuspectingly and sat down on the other side of you. You fumbled to lock your phone before he could see your conversation while simultaneously trying not to seem like you were hiding something from him.

“You did a great job! I can’t wait to see you perform that.��� You gave him an encouraging smile, slyly setting your phone on the floor.

“Thanks.” He said while panting lightly, “I kept messing up on a few steps though. I definitely need to polish up on that.” His hand ran through his hair. Your eyes watched this with the same concentration one would watch a football game coming to its last quarter. You couldn’t help how your gaze traveled down to the way his shirt clung against his chest.

Jimin pointed at your water bottle, “Do you mind?” This snapped you out of your trance.

You shook your head and stared at your sketchbook with such intensity, Jimin noticed how odd you were acting.

“What’s up?” His asked this casually but because you were hiding the fact that you were in literally love with him you felt like this was an interrogative question.

“I’m just,” You paused, beginning to touch up the sketches you had made of Jimin while he was dancing, “I’m not satisfied with how this turned out. Also, you danced well. I couldn’t even tell you messed up.” You did your best to sound distant and uncaring.

Jimin hid his smile by taking a sip of your water. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Wheein had witnessed all this occur right before her eyes. She was equally disgusted and embarrassed at how horridly tense that conversation had been. In a perfect world, she would have shoved both of your heads together to initiate a forced kiss because she knew damn well neither of you would ever be the first one to make that move, especially after everything that happened. All she could do was stand by and watch in agony.

“Whenever you two are finished, I’d like to shower before everyone comes over.” Wheein added a touch of retort in her words, hoping you would pick up on what she really wanted to say. “Jimin, you definitely need to shower too.”

You and Jimin laughed as you all stood up and began exiting the practice room. He threw his arm around Wheein in retaliation for her jab. “Oh, you don’t like my sweat?”

She cried out a loud ‘ew’ in disgust and forcefully shoved him away. You watched them bicker, and today was the first day since your ring turned green again that you hadn’t thought about your soulmate once.

Jackson and Nayeon arrived early to help set everything up. He also came to give a last-minute warning that he had invited a few of his friends from work over as well.

“I told him he shouldn’t, but when does he ever listen to me?” Nayeon scolded to which Jackson rolled his eyes. You laughed, appreciating her efforts in attempting to get Jackson not to do something he had his sights set on.

“It’s okay. You can just order something really expensive the next time he pays for dinner.” You said while grabbing an extra pack of red solo cups from your cabinet.

“I do that regardless.” She said with a loud laugh. Jackson nodded in admittance and kissed her cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You and Nayeon laughed at his sarcastic remark. She joined in helping you set up to compensate for the fact that Jackson didn’t apologize. You weren’t too upset, though; you knew him too well to believe him when he said he was only going to bring Nayeon tonight.

As the night went on and your apartment slowly filled with around thirteen people, some strangers and some friends, you were on the edge of being drunk to being really drunk. Everyone else was either at you level or a bit ahead of you. Wheein had already hopped on your couch to perform a ballad dedicated to how much she loved her friends.

“This one’s for YOU!” Her voiced boomed louder than the speaker and if you weren’t so intoxicated, you’d be worried about the neighbors filing a noise complaint. Wheein pointed at you then began pointing at everyone else in the room watching in amusement, “This ones for ALL of you! Even Jackson’s friends I don’t even know!”

This elicited a laugh from all of Jackson’s coworkers. One called out, “Do you remember my name?”

“Definitely not but I LOVE you!” She laughed turning red in the face then continuing with her heartfelt serenade to everyone in the apartment. “Dahyun, you’re the cutest girl in the whole wide world. It is very important that you know that! Hey! Everyone! I’m dating the cutest girl in the world!” Dahyun burst out bashfully in giggles, lifting her hands to shield her face.

Your eyes met with Jimin’s as you exchanged looks. He swayed his body from side to side with a bright smile as Wheein sang loudly off-key, and you lifted your shoulders and shook your head in astonishment at how hilarious and sappy Wheein was when she was drunk.

After Wheein’s display of affection, she plopped down on the couch and slouched while reaching for her drink to take a few sips. Things simmered down as the group began to drunkenly chat about something you didn’t pay any attention to. You walked over to Wheein, trying your best not to lose your balance, and sat down next to her.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You said through fits of giggling and she groaned at your unrelenting responsibility even when you were drunk. You snatched the cup out of her hand and chugged the last of the drink, “But I definitely haven’t.”

“Heyyyyyyy!” She slurred, “That was mine!”

“I’m doing you a favor.” You patted her head. “Also, I approve of Dahyun. But she’s not the cutest girl in the world, that title is already taken by you.” You nudged her lovingly and her head tossed around as she laughed.

“Shh, I love you. You’re the best friend ever.” Her words had slurred even more.

Wheein stood up suddenly and marched sloppily over to your bedroom door, “Pssst, I’m going to pass out now and wake up with a hangover tomorrow, so I bid you all a goodnight!” Dahyun led her to the bedroom and kissed her goodnight. She saluted then disappeared into your room.

“Looks like I’ll have to take care of that tomorrow.” Yeji and Sana laughed at this comment, knowing how whiny Wheein would get even if she had the slightest headache.

You, Namjoon, and Nayeon were looking at pictures of her and Jackson’s trip to the mountains last weekend. Although sober you would have been genuinely excited to hear about it, you found yourself struggling to focus your eyes on the pictures, only offering witless answers. Luckily, Namjoon was much better at holding his liquor and Nayeon was an even bigger extrovert when she was drunk which explained why she didn’t even notice you were barely paying attention.

“So, Jimin, how did your date with that girl go?” You heard your friend Seokjin ask.

This sobered you instantly and you found it eerie how your attention focused on what Jimin was going to say. He looked down at his cup trying to find the words to properly describe it.

“It was okay. She was cute and laughed at all my jokes which boosted my ego.” He smiled softly, but it was merely a condolence to the fact that he couldn’t have admitted he didn’t have as much interest in her as he hoped.

“Damn, you’re not that funny so she must have really liked you.” He jabbed with suggestive implications. Jimin laughed at this and nodded in agreement but his smile slowly faded when he scanned the room only to find that you’d been listening to the conversation.

Your intoxication wore away your ability to hide exactly what you were feeling, as a disgruntled expression lingered on your face. The second he looked at you, your head snapped away from his in humiliation as if he hadn’t already seen you were eavesdropping. 

The night came to an end which was a relief to you. You didn’t know how much longer you could put up a happy, carefree attitude. Whenever your mind almost wandered away from Jimin’s date, it swarmed back into your thoughts and focus and provoked irritation with no restraint.

One by one, your friends left. Jackson cleaned up the last few empty cups, tossed them in the trash, and wiped down your table and counter before he left, hoping that would make up for how he had encumbered your plans. Jimin was laying on the couch so you didn’t bother kicking him out. You guessed he was going to spend the night since he was too drunk to drive anyway.

Your legs moved in a staggered manner and you floundered around the kitchen trying to find your cups. You leaned on the counters for support groaning softly to yourself. Thinking about Jimin on a date, flirting the way he’d flirt with you, or laughing for someone else that wasn’t you was enraging. You couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol or the fuming envy that made you feel dizzy. It was realistically both those things.

You heard light footsteps approaching you, impeding on your pathetic sulking. You spun around quickly to see who it was which, in hindsight, was the worst possible thing you could do. Before you got the chance to give a face to the presence, your eyes began to see patches of black and your hand caressed your head to keep yourself from passing out on the floor.

“Woah.” You gasped trying to recollect your composure both mentally and physically. A few seconds later you felt two familiar arms wrap around your waist in assistance. The way those limbs delicately held you indicated exactly who it was.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was gentle as he was using his lower register, “You okay?” He was so close to you that you could feel his breath that smelled of liquor against your skin. Your hands wandered to rest against his chest, and you looked up at him. His cheeks tinted a soft pink color. Jimin grinned lightly when you made eye contact with him.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled under your breath, not wanting to speak too loudly because you felt your undigested food threaten to come back up your throat. You face inched dangerously close to his, and he didn’t stop you because of his drunken state. Your chest heaved erratically due to your nausea.

“I’m fine.” You sneered pushing him away with the little might that you had left.

“___, you’re still drunk.” He stumbled back and sounded disappointed which made you feel even angrier.

“Well you are too.” You accused feeling a bit demeaned by his tone. He didn’t say anything to this as his arms lazily returned to his side. “You went on a date? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know?” You were annoyed at his resistance towards you. “I’m your friend. Friends tell each other things like that. What? Did you think I would be mad at you?” You stepped forward feeling bold and confrontational, as a result of your drunkenness. He crossed his arms, refusing to yield to you.

“I never said that.” He looked down at the floor, fueling your agitation even more. You wanted him to look at you. “You don’t seem so happy about it, that’s for sure.”

You let out a groan that dragged out for a bit, “What are you talking about, I’m absolutely ecstatic for you.” You jabbed pettily as you walked past him to continue your search for a water glass. He rolled his eyes at your abnormally aggressive and childish attitude.

“You have no right to be mad.” Jimin grumbled while watching you struggle to find a glass. He reached for the correct cabinet and held out a cup to you. You begrudgingly took the cup from his hand and stumbled over to the sink, briefly losing your balance before catching yourself against the counter. He reflexively reached his arm out to catch you in case you fell.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat with your voice raised slightly, “You don’t think that I know you’re allowed to go on dates with other girls? You don’t think I want to be happy for you?” You started to get worked up and worried you would let something slip out that you would regret.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you’re trying at all.” Jimin walked to the other end of the kitchen and leaned back against the counter.

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Jimin responded sarcastically, “I kind of have a problem with you being mad at me after you were the one who turned me down.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered over your words.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He repeated what you said to confirm your audacious comment. “Oh, so, I imagined when you said you couldn’t be with me because of your soulmate ring?”

“Jimin, don’t.” You warned.

“No, I clearly remember that you said you weren’t interested. And as much as that hurt and I wanted to tell you that I wanted you to choose me I would never do that. At least I could be kind enough to not take that out on you. And now you’re mad at me for trying to get over you? I should have known not to fall for you. Fuck, I tried to tell myself I made up the connection we had to make me feel better about this. To make this,” He gestured to you and him, “whatever this was not real. I thought if I could convince myself our connection wasn’t real then maybe I could cope with the fact that I’d never get to be with you.”

You began to cry but your buzz was strong enough that all caution was thrown to the wind. You cried unconstrained.

“I’m mad because I know I have no reason to be mad but here I am!” You gestured vivaciously as your passion began to boil over. “I’m mad because-” You took a second to catch your breath, “I don’t know. I’m just mad and I’m sorry. Of course, it’s not your fault but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Right.” He said coldly, unimpressed with this answer.

“What do you know? You don’t know anything! You don’t know me or what I’m thinking.” This attack was meant to hurt him as much as it hurt you to say. You stomped over to him, spilling a bit of water on your hand and the floor.

Jimin stood up and stepped forward to counter you, causing you to stumble back a bit. His face was so close to yours once more and he could now clearly see your dampened eyes and the way they looked at him with frustration. You regained grounding and tried not to seem intimidated. He could be so gentle and light when he danced, but right now he looked so indestructible that not even a tank could move him

“I don’t know you?” Your skin tingled from the bitterness that stained his voice. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. Your eyes vigilantly watched him and your heart pumped at an unhuman rate. You prayed he couldn’t tell he had this power over you.

His eyes pierced back at you with such intensity that you wanted to cry harder. You wanted to tell him every bit of how you felt and how much you loved him. You wanted him to know that he’d changed you in the most unpredictable and drastic ways and it unhinged every bone in your body. You were scared because you once believed he would never satisfy you since he wasn’t your soulmate, but now you were scared that even a lifetime of efforts could never repay what he had given you. That all this time, you weren’t enough for him.

Jimin felt his urges get the best of him. Staring into your eyes absolved any resentment he held for you. He felt injected with life whenever he looked at you, even when you were staring daggers at him like you had been now. He didn’t know how long he could resist from kissing you, being that he was drunk and reckless.

You both stood there, silently. Jimin was waiting for you to shoot a drunken, unintelligible comment back and you were waiting for Jimin to rebuke you for lashing out at him. Neither of those things happened. You just remained speechless, as did he.

Eventually, you took a few steps away, breaking the longing stare that had transpired between you and Jimin for what felt like an hour.

“I’m going to bed.” That was the last thing you said before slumping out of the kitchen and entering into your bedroom. You were right in assuming Jimin would stay over since he was too drunk and emotional to drive himself home.

Jimin collapsed onto the couch and finally let himself cry. He hated the fact that things didn’t go back to how they were, and that they most likely never would. You were like water to him. He could experience you and feel you but whenever he tried to hold you in his hands no matter how tightly, you would slip through his fingers. He just wished he could have shared another one of those nothing-everything moments with you he’d foolishly taken for granted. When he closed his eyes, memories of you and him played in his mind until he dozed off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to a pressure headache that resided in the back of your head. This however was nothing compared to the feeling you got when you checked your phone and saw Jimin had sent you a text.

Jimin: I think I need some space

Jimin: I’m sorry

Before the tears had the chance to well, you stood up and trudged out to the living room to only find that Jimin had already left and Wheein was sitting on the couch flipping through the stations on the television.

“Look at this.” You tossed your phone on the cushion next to Wheein and walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Wheein picked up your phone and read the texts, sighing with disappointment. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ___.”

“We kind of had a fight last night.” You muttered, the memories of everything that had happened flooding back into your head. You said so many things you wish you hadn’t and regretted how rude you had allowed yourself to act.

“Yeah, I know. I heard.” Her lips were pressed together as she walked over to you.

“I really know how to fuck things up, don’t I?” You scoffed in mockery of your misbehavior.

Two weeks passed since you and Jimin had fought.

That petty argument stained your mind. That moment was everything. And for once, you wanted it to mean nothing.

Every time your phone alerted you, you reached for it eagerly and immediately in the slim chance that it was Jimin who was texting you. It never was, though, and you only had yourself to blame.

It had been two weeks of self-reprimand and regret.

Fourteen days of missing him and pitifully scrolling through photos and videos that you took of him.

Three hundred and thirty-six hours since saw his smile or scolded him for skipping practice to hang out with you or received a casual compliment from him that never failed to boost your mood when you were upset.

Or heard his laugh.

Coincidentally, tonight was his dance recital he’d been practicing for. You’d been waffling between going and not going for the entirety of those two weeks. Wheein would always reassure you that you should go and that he would appreciate you cared enough to support him.

“You know I can’t make it, its my mom’s birthday weekend. If not for you, go for me.” She pleaded.

It took a few more minutes of Wheein’s persuasion for you to finally decide on going. And you told yourself it was exclusively for Wheein. You told yourself that, but she knew, and you knew you just missed his so much.

You arrived early so you could snag a decent seat. To your dismay, it was already crowded which made you remember Jimin always downplayed his dancing events due to his humbleness. You found a seat slightly askew to the center of the stage, but close enough to get an adequate view. The lights dimmed and you set down your purse and the bouquet of red roses on the floor in front of your legs.

There were a few performers that preceded Jimin, all were talented and passionate but nothing like the way Jimin danced. Maybe it was because you were in love with him, but there was something exceptionally unmatched about his dancing abilities.

He finally walked out on stage and his eyes met with yours almost immediately. Jimin paused and contained his excitement to the best of his abilities. You weren’t fooled though; you could see it in his eyes that he was relieved you attended and you nodded at him to express physically that you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Jimin looked down as the music started playing, then began his performance. The way his arms flowed so precisely with the rhythm and the elegance he exuded as he leaped across the stage had the audience collectively in awe of his raw talent. His legs moved so delicately that anyone could tell he was the type of dancer that practiced until he couldn’t stand up anymore.

Your breathing was rather heavily but you ignored everything else when Jimin would dance. The intense beating of your heart, the audience, the walls and even the stage had faded away; he was the only thing detectable in your eyes in this moment.

Your presence granted him the motivation to exert every ounce of effort into every single movement. You pitied the unlucky person who had to follow him. Their dance would surely be put to shame by this beautiful, raw, flawless, emotional masterpiece.

When the dance ended, your body crashed back to reality and you realized every muscle in your body had been contracted. You loosened yourself by leaning back into your chair.

He received a standing ovation which didn’t come to a surprise. You stood up, still. Jimin’s eyes were glued to you. You gave him a teary smile and he held his hand to his heart and bowed. The audience had no idea that was for you and only you.

Jimin prayed that you saw it. The longing, the pure dedication, the heartbreak, and the change. You changed him. He wanted you to know that he always thought he’d fall in love countless times, but from the moment he met you that desire had faded. Now, he knew he’d only ever want to love you. 

The remainder of the recital had been a blur. Nothing could prevail in capturing your attention from Jimin. His movements simply replayed in your head until the showcase ended. You stood up and applauded, growing restless to run backstage to congratulate him.

Before you got the chance to greet him, an entire crowd of people swarmed any path that lead to where the dancers were. You grunted and settled on texting him.

y/n: meet me outside on the bridge across the street

Jimin: I’ll be there in about 10 minutes

You thought your heart couldn’t have raced any faster than it did while you were watching Jimin dance, but your body had proved you wrong. You paced up and down the bridge all the while mumbling what you planned on saying to Jimin. You bit your fingernails and leaned against the wooden railing that scaled along the bridge.

“Hey.” Jimin walked up next to you, looking out to the streaming water below the bridge. It was quiet, warm, and serene. The lantern that stood on the end of the bridge radiating a warm tone that accentuated Jimin’s honey skin.

“You did amazing. Just,” You paused, there were no words to do his performance justice, “if I went blind tomorrow, I’d be satisfied.”

Jimin chuckled at your comment, knowing you meant well.

He laughed for you. That beautiful sound echoed in your heart loudly. You missed it so much.

“These are for you.” You handed him the flowers, turning your body towards him. He grinned and cradled them in his arm.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I heard from Seokjin that you’re planning on making things official with the girl. What’s her name?” You said abruptly. Jimin visibly tensed when you said this.

“Nancy.” He replied.

“Nancy.” You repeated.

There was a long silence, and Jimin opened his mouth about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t be her boyfriend.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” You looked back out into the water before continuing, “I know you could never fully dedicate yourself to her like you would to me.” A scoff escaped you when you said it out loud, “I don’t care if that sounds arrogant because I know it’s true. I know because that’s how I’d feel about everyone else too.” You paused, “Even my soulmate.”

“___, do you- that- where is this coming from?” His eyes planted firmly on yours.

“I love you, Jimin.” You blurted it out. The hundred of ways you imagined yourself confessing this to him ultimately resulted in you ineloquently spouting it out. There was no denying your vigor could never diminish when it came to love, it simply was redirected.

“You love me.” He repeated in a stunned state. He just tenderly stared at you, hope and bewilderment bursting through him; he was trying to take it all in.

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute I met you and every minute of every day that I’ve known you. And I could never stop myself from loving you, and I was stupid to think that was possible. I’d always been so determined to find my soulmate. I pictured exactly what to say and how we would fall in love, but with you,” You laughed lightly, holding a hand to your heart. Hearing you say these things to him was everything he’d ever wished for, for the months you’d known each other. Needless to say he was fighting back tears.

“I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’ve ruined love for me because I know nothing will ever be as good as the way I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” These words struck you, hard. You didn’t know how to convince him, but dammit, you’d never give up trying.

“I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t let go of the way you laugh, you know I always go out of my way to make you laugh? because hearing it makes me so damn happy and I have no idea why. Or how when we look at each other and I can tell exactly what you’re thinking, and you can tell exactly what I’m thinking. Or how you always let me order my food first and pour water into my cup before you pour water into yours. Or the way you tease me for opening the banana on the ‘wrong side’. Or how your dancing is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And every moment you’re not dancing or laughing or teasing me I wish you were by my side doing all of those things.”

“I could never be him. I could never be that for you, you know this right?” He responded in short answers, unable to find the right words that would be a good enough just like when he was seven years old. But, Jimin was older now and held a firm belief nothing could ever express how strongly he feels.

“Good. I don’t want you to be him or anyone else other than you.”

“But what about-”

“No. There’s nothing else to consider. The point is I could never forgive myself if I gave you up for some theoretical opportunity of a soulmate. I found someone even better. I found you. I don’t care what the stars say, I don’t care that your ring is green and mine is green and that we’re technically not soulmates. I don’t care if I never meet my soulmate. What we have is real. Our connection was built by us. You’re real. And I love you so much that’s all I can say.” You stared intently at him becoming exhausted, yet alleviated from finally being able to tell him all this. “This ring had meant everything for me for all my life. When it was green it meant I had a soulmate, when it was black it meant I had no reason to believe in love. But with you, this ring means absolutely nothing. It’s green again and it has never felt so meaningless to me. Does that even make sense?”

“I love you.” He said after about five minutes of silence. He didn’t give you a second to respond because the next think you knew, he stepped towards you and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It’s true what they say about seeing fireworks when you kiss someone you love. These fireworks covered every inch of the sky and flared brightly, blindingly so, and flew so high in the air that you swore they reached outer space.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His cheeks softly brushed against yours and felt so warm. The softness of his lips could make you cry. Finally being able to kiss him and hold him and admit your love to him did make you cry. His hands caressed your face making you flush red, and his thumb glided against your cheeks to wipe away the hot tears he felt trickling from your eyes.

He pulled back but couldn’t pull too far because he felt some gravitational force drawing him to be near you. Your noses bumped against each other, “The minute you met me, huh?” You laughed, placing another chaste kiss on the side of his smile.

“I warned you I was a hopeless romantic.” You sniffed still recovering from that tearful, enchanting kiss.

He laced his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers, and strode slowly along the park path. You and he talked like you’d always had but now you loved him, and he knew that.

“Favorite cartoon as a kid?”

“Easy, Blue’s Clues.” Jimin said.

“Really? You think Blue’s Clues was the best when Sesame Street exists?”

“Big bird scared me! You just know he’s killed someone. you can see it in his cold, dead eyes.” Jimin argued.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least none of the characters had conversations with their furniture. Steve was one hundred percent insane.” You said, laughing.

“Steve is a legend, don’t say such things about him.” Jimin joined in your laughter, referring to the main character of Blue’s Clues. 

“Go to pick up line?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Wow, that was absolutely terrible I think we have to break up.” Jimin chuckled.

“Oh yeah, like you could do better.” You challenged.

“If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?” He said with eyes so dreamy you almost ignored the fact that this pick up like was just as horrendous as yours.

“How was that better than mine?”

“Trust me, it was.”

“I will. I will be your nothing.” He looked to you and kissed your cheek. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his touch.

“And I’ll be yours?” Jimin whispered against your cheek as if he were asking permission to be the one you choose. You nodded. Of course, he was.

You and him and this moment were nothing. Nothing to the passing strangers, nothing to the waiter that took your order on your first date, nothing to the generations to come, nothing to the universe and trees and grass and stars that surrounded you. Nothing at all.

And yet, to you and Jimin, it was everything. This nothing and everything moment marked the beginning of a lifetime of nothing and everything moments.

Somewhere along these nothing and everything moments, green became just another color to you and your ring was just another piece of jewelry. And nothing more.

Exactly 10 months after that night, you and Jimin planned to return to that bridge. You stood against the railing and looked over to Jimin.

“Uh, move over like two inches to the left.” You giggled, finding that your need for accuracy rubbed off on him.

“Are you sure that’s where I was standing? I could swear it was right here!” You argued, simply to get a rise out of him; you thought it was adorable.

“No, you were definitely standing two inches to the left.” He held his phone and aimed it at you. “Move it!” He ordered with a smile on his face.

“Yes sir!” You stepped to the side then looked at him for approval. He held his thumb up and took a few pictures while you posed.

Afterwards, he walked up to you and placed a kiss on your cheek before showing you the photos. Most of them were blurry and you teased him for his shoddy camera skills. “Wheein’s gonna hate these pictures.” You commented. He laughed and threw his arm across your shoulder as the two of you stared out into the water flowing peacefully downstream. Being here with him brought the memory of that night as if it had happened just yesterday.

“A friend once said to me: ‘it’s crazy that out of all the years and decades and countries we could have been born, we were born in this one, together’.” Jimin’s eyes were fixated on the water in reminiscence of the first time he’d met you, “I thought of what my friend said often when we were together. And it’s as if we were meant to find each other. The universe seems coincidental when it comes to picking soulmates, doesn’t it? At least we got to choose. And I think it purposefully granted us that choice knowing exactly what it would bring us. As if we were meant to bring every bit of love, warmth, and even heartbreak into each other’s lives. It’s kind of like a lottery when you think about it. To me, it feels like fate plucked us out like numbers on a ticket and placed us together.” Jimin looked over to you now, and when you stared into his eyes every one of your questions about love had been answered.

“Numbers are infinite.” You said softly.

“Yeah, and yet, we were picked. I understand now I won the lottery.” He replied and wished time would stop so he could cherish this nothing moment forever.

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind about doing this.” You said with sentiment. “Ready?”

“Ready.” He responded, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The two of you slipped the soulmate rings off your fingers and you gazed at it one last time.

“Count of three?”

Jimin nodded.

You started the countdown, “One.”

Jimin continued it, “Two.”

Three came in unison and you both threw your rings into the water which was now rushing rapidly.

When you felt the ring slip from your hand and watched as it dropped into the water, you wept. You wept out of pure relief and liberation; an enormous pressure had lifted from your chest and you were finally able to breathe. That ring could never cause you any more pain, nor did that ring replenish your hope you would find love. You didn’t need it anymore.

Because now, you had an endless supply of nothing moments.

and everything moments

and Jimin.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Woo-oo! Review! or From the Top

Hello all you happy people! And to those of you just joining this blog, welcome I review ducks, other animated shows and comics... and today’s review is special for me. For a number of reasons. For starters it’s a reminder how far i’ve come. See I always wanted to be a reviewer, ever since high school when a friend showed me a certain online reviewer whose now dead to me, and opened me up to a world of much better reviewers who i’m still fans of to this day, and ones who came after them , and after that and so on and so on. I so badly wanted a community to belong to I struggled to be a youtube reviewer but frankly lacked the talent or self confidence back then to try, so my attempts over the decade were a series of stops and starts. Of me starting to find my niche writing only to stop because I hated myself so much, and still struggle with that, i’d tell myself I could never do it, I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t funny enough and no one cared. I kept shutting myself down AGAIN AND AGAIN, for far too long. 

But that all changed a year ago next month: I’d long been a fan of the Ducktales Reboot. I was caustiously optimistic when it was announced. The optimism came from a deep abiding love of scrooge as a character despite not having dove into his comics that deep, I didn’t have an easy way at the time, thanks to life and times and what comics I had read, and was excited to see a fresh reboot closer to the comics with my eternal boy Donald Duck back in the main character. The caution.. came from the fact that at the time we’d gotten a string of bad to medicore reboots: Teen Titans GO, Powerpuff Girl, and Ben 10 which started pretty meh but has turned into alirght from some of the later episodes I saw. I wanted to be hyped to all hell but I had no proof this wasn’t going to be another dumbed down reboot. Then comic con came, the first teaser poster dropped, and my skepticism died.

It was perfect: a barksian art style with it’s own twists! Donald full on display! And best of all the triplets FINALLY had not only unique outfits but personalities! I’ve long went on in my reviews about how much that annoyed me and while it worked for the barks comics ever since then it’s just felt like a waste to have three characters there.. and not even the SLIGHTEST difference. 

My anticipation only grew with the full trailer, the promo posters as more and more info showed how good this series would be, how unique it’d be, and how much tw as taking what made the comics great, giving us a better distalation of that while still being very much it’s own beast. And once this episode dropped.. that faith was unfounded. Woo-oo! is without hyperbole, one of the best pilots i’ve seen, one that introduced the entire main cast perfectly, gets the series tone and mission statment out just right and in general set the stage for one of the best shows of the 2010′s (and 2020′s, even if it only lasted a year and some change). Wheras Teen Titans GO actively tried to take a dump on it’s source material, they thankfully have stopped that but it dosent’ make those early years any less grating, Ducktales was a breath of fresh air that honored the past while making i’ts own future. I tried talking about it but it was all in other failed attempts at reviewing: solo podcasts, my breif second video review career.. stuff no one rightly cared about and I just couldn’t get the hang of. 

So this is where we loop back to last year: I decided to finally try and cover it one more time, not realizing this would be my last chance as it came out anyway, and since I was doing text reviews but my output had slid in the new year, I decided to review Season 3 as it came out. If it bottomed out I could always stop.... and I just never did. I kept going, eventually finding new fans, a patreon (The other one’s an old friend of mine), and not only got paid doing what I love.. but found some peace.  I reviewed other shows as they came out, covered things i’d wanted to cover for years like life and times, scott pilgrim and x-men,. I covered other shows as they came out, found people willing to talk over my opinions and found my niche at long last. 

So that’s why the long speech folks: After almost a year of reviewing i’m properly covering the start of something that made me happier than I had been in a long time and gave me hope during one of the worst periods of ALL our lives. Something i’ve wanted to cover since I finally got started last year, and something truly amazing. So i’d be honored if you’d join me under the cut as I talk about the genesis of one of the best series Disney has ever put out. 

Behind the Scenes Stuff:  Most details I could find were sparse. it took going back to the first month the show came out and looking at a LOT of unrelated questions to finally find out Frank and Matt outright pitched the show. This dosen’t suprise me as both are huge ducktales fans with Matt having drawn his own duck comics as a kid and Frank taking it an extra mile having sang the theme song in his first grade talent show, worked it into his vows and got his first daughter’s first word to be “Woo-oo”. It’s very clear this show as a labor of love for them something they dreamed of Disney made possible. 

Otherwise I don’t have much on the genisis of the show: It was in the earliest ideas going to be a revivial but Frank and Matt both decided against it , deciding it’d be unfair to expect kids from 30 years after the original to know the source material, and instead just starting it over outright, which was the right call especailly with Alan Young’s passing. 

Design wise I found quite a bit of concept art thanks to one website, and it’s incredibly intresting. This is why i’ve really gotten into art books: I like seeing this early stuff what characters used to be, figuring out or outright hearing from the creators mouths why they changed it that sort of thing. 

Starting off we have some early designs for Donald, with him wearing the sailor suit as a kid but his Quackshot outfit as an adult, something I honestly wish they’d kept but get why they changed it: The iconic sailor suit both helps contrast him with della and fits his reluctance to adventure in season 1 more. I still wish that they worked the Quackshot outfit in somewhere, but they worked in so damn much, it’s hard to complain> Though I probably will make a list of “things I wished they’d worked” in at some point and i’d be lying inf I siad my mind wasn’t currently turning the gears to figure out how to work this into a fanfic. Oohhh maybe as Dewey’s outfit as an adult but blue, obviously. 

Next we have Donald settled more into his final apperance as well as the boy’s first outfits.  As you can tell from both of these the show originally went more with the classic art style before getting the one we’re familiar with now, one I love by the way and was made to combine a classic cartoon style with the visual of the comics. Donald originally had his classic outfit before they transitioned to the more barks style one, a good call.  

The interesting bit though is obviously the boys original outfits which i’m honestly bummed didn’t make it for Huey and Louie, not so much Dewey minus the visor. I do get the changes though: The hoodie Dewey had fit WAY beter on Louie, and the lumberjack shirt didn’t quite fit the nerdier huey. Still look nice. Dewey’s is okay, but only the visor is something I really gregret them removing same with louie’s fedora. It would’ve been neat ot keep the hat thing, but have each hat be unique. Likely they simplified things to make animation easier and simply removed the hats for some reason, but it’s nice ot see these more detailed original drafts and it is VERY interesting to find that differentiating the triplets was something planned from the earliest concept art. Though given Matt and Frank said in interviews they wanted a more natural family feel, it’s not a huge surprise. 

Scrooge like everyone BUT the boys thus far, naturally also had his original outfit at first, but like he ended up doing in the series rotated a bit, if not as much in the final product. We also see a protoype for his final design, the old coat but with a jacket over it in the last image. I also notice Donald seemed a lot more like his old comics self in the concept art with quackshot!donald. 

Like everyone else, Webby and Launchapd were originally their 87 deisgns, though Launchpad’s slightly diffrent jacket and green scarf were changed from the start. Webby is the closest to her 87 design, and as shown in the previous Lena concept art from my “Spies Like Us and Dime after Dime” double feature, she still had her new personality. More on that in a bit. 

Finally we have Flintheart, whose design is a bit diffrent from 87: He was a chub from day one it appears, though they’d exagerate it, and his beard was a bit longer at first like his other incarnations. 

Beakly is largely unchanged form 87, only given a coat, which would gradually be mofidied, much liekt he boys into her current outfit. 

As you can tell Beakly, Webby and Launchpad were all there from day one as they wanted them from the original ducktales just updated. 

Production wise they wanted to go handrawn, chose the style they did to have something close to the comics that felt classicly aniamteda t the same time, I feel they succeeded and wanted a show that felt like the original. I do think this show has it’s own feel but it does feel ducktales. I badly hope for an artbook at some point though as this show probably hada  LOT more intresting concept art. Seriously Disney I will PAY YOU to look at your neat art. Please. 

So they created a fully formed world and put the characters in it, wanting it to feel like the world had existed before and had throughly been explored and letting our young heroes be the watson to Donald and Scrooge’s holmes. 

Finally Della was indeed part of the initial pitch and a core idea from day one as every family has secrets and Della felt like one that had been lurking around the fringes of the story for 80 years. The rest of the production stuff i’ll weave in as we go but first one last stop, the STELLAR voice cast, none of whom outsideo f Tony i’ve talked about before sooooo...

The All Star Cast

The casting was outstanding here, with Matt admitting the cast brought a LOT to the characters, especially Ben Schwartz whose taken on Dewey was so unique and intresting they actually rewrote some of his dialouge for the pilot to fit this version better. This is far and away one of the best casts in western animation, most coming from comedy backgrounds and one or two coming from a voice acting background, but all bringing their absolute best. And since our main 8 are all in the pilot let’s run them down along with Keith Ferguson shall we?

Playing everyone’s faviorite billionare scotsman  and one of the very few to ever do so, we have David Fucking Tennant. David was their “First and only choice” and for good reason: David is a talented actor with a MASSIVE amount of stage, tv and audio drama credits. His biggest and best known role is playing the 10th Doctor on Doctor Who, which while not my faviorite (That’d be matt smith, as he’s both the one I came in on and hte one who got me hooked) he’s still  VERY close second and damn talented and I need to watch more of his tenure. Outside of that just to condense it to his ongoing roles on stuff and bigger roles: Filmwise he’s had starring roles in the Fright Night remake, You, Me and Him, Fish Without Bicycles and Bad Samartains, and is set to do a voice for the upcoming Loud House Movie, which excites me to no end. 

TV wise where most of his roles have been he got his first big starring role on the Telly with the BBC Mini series Taking Over the Asylum in the late 90′s. He’d go on to make a career out of doing mini’s for a while, also taking part in He Knew He Was Right, The Quatermass Experiment Remake, Casanova, Secret Smile.. and Blackpool. I saved Blackpool for last before we move into the Who era as if you’ve never heard of it.. it’s REALY fucking weird. It’s a jukebox musical about a man who wants to make Blackpool, a real city, into the new vegas and Tennat plays a cop investigating a case around the guy and also trying to get with his wife because they used to date and because our lead is philandering jackass. That’s already kinda nuts.. but then you get to the fact the songs are sung OVER the original songs instead of making a new version of them. It’s surreal to be sure but if you can find it it’s worth it for the handful of good numbers and how weird it looks and you can find clips of the songs on youtube if your intrested. Here’s a starter. 

Your also welcome. He’d go on to play Detective Alec Hardy in Broadchurch to critical aclaim as well as be a part of it’s short lived american remake, would play the Fugitoid in tmnt 2007, Kilgrave in Jessica Jones, one of his few post who roles i’ve seen or heard besides Scrooge and easily some of his best work he NAILS that purple bastard perfectly, would make his own show Staged about a fictional version of himself putting on a Stage play that’s still ongoing, and is currently , along with Ducktales as it wraps up, the voice of Lord Commander on Final Space, with the character returning this season judging by the trailers to fan delight and terror. He’s a VERY talented actor and voice actor and I do hope he goes on to do more and more voice work in years to come as, with his background in radio, he was born for it. 

He was also born for this roll, playing Scrooge perfectly and easily matching Alan Young in quality, not a small feat and i’ts VERY obvious why he was their one and only choice. 

Next up is another legend, Tony Anselmo who we’ve talked about before when I covered legend of the Three Cablleros: He’s been Donald’s voice since shortly before Ducktales, hasn’t done much else but given he’s THE voice for the character and this show let him show off one hell of a range with teh voice, he dosen’t really need other credits. The man is a treasure and I fear loosing him one day and fear for whoever replaces him as they have a LOT to live up to. 

Getting into the triplets, we’re going by age so starting off we have Huey, voiced by Danny Pudi. Like most of this cast aside from Toks Ogladyve and Beck Bennet (Who I probably HAD seen on SNL but didn’t really know or look out for him on there till after Ducktales), I not only knew Danny but was a huge fan of his going in. This is due to his breakout role on the glorious sitcom Community, which sadly only had a handful of i’ts cast show up on this show. I mean you got Lin Manuel Miranda I’m sure Donald Glover would’ve said yes too. He grew up with Ducktales. Regardless his role as meta guy Abed was easily the best of the cast on that show, with Glover as troy a very close second and the two working at their best as a duo. Outside of that he’s had a few roles being a regular on Powerless, which I forgot existed and currently on Mythic Quest: Raven’s Banquet, and shockingly hasn’t done a ton of voice work. And given his performance as huey was one of the best parts of this show he REALLY, REALLY SHOULD. Please Danny. He’s also a loving husband, father and surprisingly a marathon runner. Never would’ve guessed.

Next up is SNL Alumn of 9 years, Bobby Monynihan. Bobby is naturally best known for that, my faviorite role of his being Ass Dan. That’s right bitch you know he’s going to live fore..

ASS DAN 1981-2021

He’ll be back. Outside of SNL he’s done a bunch of minor roles. He’s currently on the tragically mediocre sitcom Mr. Mayor, and voiced Panda on We Bare Bears. Hopefully he keeps up the good work as he deserves better than he’s gotten and Ducktales proves it. 

Finally for the triplets we have a rising star in voice acting, Ben Schrwartz. At the time Ducktales launched, I was a fan of his from his roll on parks and Rec as Jen Ralphio, aka older scummier Dewey. 

Outside of his historic recurring role here he played a main role on House of Lies, a show I need to go back to, and has done other live action rolls but has REALLY hit his stride in voice acting. He started with voicing Randy Cunningham in Randy Cunningham 9th grade ninja and since then has hit the ground running: He was Rutabega on Bojack, Josh on Bob’s Burgers, and went on to complete the trifecta of blue nostalgic characters after voicing dewey by voicing Leo in Rise of the TMNT (and having one of the most unique and intresting versions of the character to play) and reprised the roll for the upcoming film. And of course he hit it HUGE by playing Sonic in the suprsingly fantastic Sonic the Hedgehog movie, and will do so again for the sequel and might even take up the roll for the games now Roger Craig Smith has retired. We shall see. Point is this guy’s at the top of his game and Dewey is part of that. Like with his brothers I can’t picture anyone else playing him. 

Rounding out the kids is Webby, played by the wonderous Kate Micucci. Kate is a lovely talented woman who mostly showed up in smaller parts, was part of the musical duo garfunkel and oates which even got their own tv show, and is currently a fairly prolific voice actor with this being her best known roll. I also had a bit of a crush on her once can you tell? Regardless besides absolutely nailing it as Webby she’s voiced Julie Kane in the crimnally short and even more crimnally not on Disney+ Motorcity, “Irma” in the 2012 TMNT cartoon, and the fact that “Irma” is in quotes should tell you how big a waste I felt it was having her NOT actually be Irma, despite Kate’s massive talent, the fact that Irma hadn’t been in anything since the 87 cartoon, and the fact that for added “Fuck you audience points” her krang form was voiced by Gilbert Godfried, who I love but whose casting feels like they wanted to make the twist as grating as possible. Good job there. 

Anyways her second biggest voice gig was as Sadie on Steven Universe, which took WAY too long to show off her absolutely tremendous singing voice. She started voicing Velma Dinkley in the mid-2010′s and has since, voiced Milo’s sister Sarah on Milo Murphy’s Law, Dr. Fox on Unikitty, and most recently voiced a sentient present on close enough who did this. 

So yeah quite the career and like Ben she probably has a long and storied career in Voice Acting ahead. 

Next up is Beck Bennet as everyone’s friend Launchpad where he excels. He’s best known as a castmember on SNL outside of this, and shockingly hasn’t done a ton of voice work. The only other time i’ve caught him is in the same season of Close Enough as Luc, aka dude-bro satan. But like eveyrone else here who hasn’t done a lot of voice work so far or has been more selective I defintely hope he keeps going with it as he’s amazing. He and Ben will be co-starring on MODOK in May so i’m excited for that. 

Last up for the main cast is Beakly, voiced by  Toks Olagundoye, who I hadn’t heard of before this show and hasn’t done a lot outside of the two season sitcom the neighbors, the aliens one not the really terrible looking one, and a stint on Castle, but like everyone here deserves much more and if Beakly is any indication, really should stick with voice acting. 

Last up is Keith Ferguson as only he could as FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, whose a staple in the voice acting community ever since 2000, and has had a TON of roles some of which I was unaware with him. Given Frank worked with him on Wonder Over Yonder, where he voiced Lord Hater to perfection, the two clearly have a close working relationship. He also has a close working relationship with Wonder creator Craig McCracken and has worked on all of his post-powerpuff girls show, voicing Bloo as his first major role, something I never would’ve guessed, and currently voicing Papa G on Kid Cosmic. 

Outside of Craig and Frank, he played both Karate Kid and Nemisis Kid on Legion of Super Heroes (Which really needs to come to HBO Max), Deputy Durland on Gravity Falls,  and Thunderbolt Ross on Avengers Earth’s Mighteist Heroes. He’s damn good and deserves the world for Glomgold alone and i’m glad Craig rung him up again as so far through my watch of Kid Cosmic he’s great. 

So with our cast in place, our past in place and you all likely ready to get on with it already let’s dive into the episode:

THE EPISODE: Part one Woo-Ooo!

We begin with a shot of a seagull flying overseagulls, a nice way to establish how this world works and how it bends expectations. They’d have to wait till season 3 to get a duck next to ducks but given that gag is one of the best of the series, it was worth it. 

Inside a house boat we meet Donald, Huey and Louie and get a sense of their personalities: Donald is panicked trying to get to a job interview and insists the boys wear life vests, showing his overprotectiveness and responsibility exclusive to this version. Louie stresses that Donald wear a suit instead of his normal clothes to properly impress the interviewer, showing his skill at people reading and manipulation, and Huey is making a nice, if messy, breakfast with a heartwarming message showing his heart and dedication. After finding out said Babysitter was sent to the wrong address, the boys TRY to hustle him out to stay alone.. only for Dewey to blow the scheme by starting the boat too early, letting Donald know he’s been had. Huey’s attempt to lie about it is of course the classic “Who’s Dewey?” Dewey’s caught wiring the boat and Donald throws them in the car, with Donald livid and the boys upset as their chafing at his constant overprotectiveness. 

Both sides aren’t wrong. tThe boys DID do something reckless, putting an old woman in the desert and risking their home just to go on a joyride. What they did was wrong.. but the boys AREN’T wrong for getting annoyed that he won’t let them DO anything and overly hovering over them when they CAN handle themselves as we’ll see. WE now know why: he lost their mother and his sister to her and scrooge’s recklesness. While he got therapy for his anger it’s clear he never properly got help about Della, and thus overcompensates by trying to keep what he has left of her alive. He means well.. but to them it comes off as him being manically overprotective with no good reason. They get into trouble because it’s the only way to DO anything away from him. He’s trying so hard not to loose them he almost has by the time hte series starts, and it’s telling that when they get context in Last Crash, they appricate him more from then on. They do love him, but their frustration is understandable even if what their doing is pretty damn stupid. But their also 10 and Donald’s the grown adult in therapy who should’ve dealt with this or tried to at least by now.

So with no other options Donald sets a course for McDuck manor which excites the boys who have heard of Scrooge McDuck and his exploits, each rattling off something they heard him do that fits their personality (Dewey picks him fighting a stone monster, Huey picks him uncovering a hoax and Louie picks his swimming in money. ) As Donald tries to get them to simmer down, they wonder what he’s up to

He’s up toooo.. depression. He’s in a room with his board, watching them with utter hate and sadness as they talk about cutting the invention and aviation departments. This scene plays ENTIRELY differently after the final two episodes of the season. Before it still plays well as Scrooge clearly resenting being stuck in a boring board meeting, having lost everything that made him him and just having lost his passion for life. Now? It plays as a man utterly disdainful of the men who made him give up on his daughter. While as far as he knows they did it to save his employees from his company collapsing, we know better now... and seriously where IS the rest of the board they just vanished after the Season 3 premiere.

I don’t mind only one being fleshed out, unlike the triplets we only NEED the one I mind that they just never explained it and still haven’t. Hopefully the finale will. 

But back on the plot, it now plays as Scooge just full of hatred for them, knowing they had to do what they did, even if they weren’t emebzlling but still hating them and himself. He’s likely not even paying attention anymore because he just dosen’t CARE: he has all the money int he world.. and it couldn’t bring him his daughter back. As he sadly puts the coins he was fiddling with back and says see you tommorow he can’t even close the vault without a struggle. As we’ll see later the strength never left, it’s not like he stopped execrising.. but he has nothing left to fight for. Nothing left to care about. He could adventure agian so far.. but without Della or Donald, as we’d learn two seasons later the reason he enjoyed it again... what’s the point? He has nothing left except his money. 

This is also a nice parallel to the final Chapter of LIfe and Times. I always felt the first half of woo-ooo was a spiritual adaptation of chapter 12 of that: Scrooge meets the boys for the first time and with their help, and Donalds in the story< Webby and Launchpad here, he regains his passion and more importantly his family after driving them away> The how is very different: he did in life and times due to sinking to his lowest point morally, then cruelly dismissing his family when they tried to welcome him home and bury the hatchet despite what he’d done. Here.. he made a HORRIBLE mistake, one that wasn’t entirely on him but still cost him everything and spent the decade instead of stewing or making more money trying desperately to undo it. The end result is the same, a dried out husk of a man with nothing left to loose and no will to gain anything.

This husk has launchpad though whose introduced as his driver and while good with subs and planes.. isn’t great on the road. After that though Donald pulls up hoping to drop the kids off before Scrooge arrives. Naturally this being a cartoon and Donald having tempted fate with that Scrooge shows up telling him to jettison that Jallopy at once. And finding out who it is, apart from asking how Donald is and Donald doing the same, dosen’t sway him. The boys however freak out after finding out Scrooge is Donald’s and there uncle, with my faivriote bit of that being Dewey exiting the car via a window and rolling across the roof back in. Amazing bit of animation. Wish I had a gif of that. 

Donald makes the situation plane and angry and asks “Can you do that without LOOSING THEM”. And scrooge is so painfully disarmed by his reminder of his past mistakes and the fact his surrogate son still resents him, that he agrees before realizing “Shit I have to watch children now don’t I” as Donald drives off. As you probably guessed, this is another scene that plays differently in hindsight, if not by much: It still plays as two men too stubborn and bitter to reconcile.. but now we know the why behind both their rages it feels even sadder. They both lost the person they cared about most but as it sadly happens in real life both have dug in their heels to reconcile, both feeling their right when neither completely is. While Donald was right to be upset at scrooge and della for what happened, and is mostly taking it out on scrooge because he’s the one left... he’s held onto his anger for 10 years instead of going to help when he’s unemployed, living in a dilapidated houseboat and trying ot raise three children alone and could’ve used what help scrooge would give. Scrooge is right to be upset that Donald is just selectively ignoring everything he’s done to save Della, but is too stubborn and prideful to apologize for what he DID do wrong and feels that’s enough to make up for it when , while it is enough that donald should forgive him, still dosen’t mean he dosen’t have a lot to apologize for. Both are just too angry and too much alike, as much as it woudln’t seem so, to settle with each other and see too much of what they lost. 

So the kids follow Scrooge.. who forgets to open the door, and Beakly lets them in. It’s a nice subtle bit. After some silence, Bentina TRIES to get her old friend and now employer to talk to them, but he naturally refuses and they do the talking, asking tons of questions.. and Dewey ends the conversation by accidently pressing the “imply he USED to be something rather than is something right now “ button

So Scrooge throws them in the twins old room, and Beakly gives them some marbles. You will give them b ack they will be counted. But another subtle touch I missed the first time is there... her sad look. She clearly doesn’t want to do this, but she has to play this carefully or else he might get mad and fire her on the spur of the moment. He’d obviously hire her back, where else is he going to get an ex spy who will both clean for him AND be his bodyguard and security. It’s a very small pool. Mostly because Beakly probably killed most of the other people who’d of fit that description during her spy days. 

Scrooge meanwhile is still rattled by Dewey’s statment, wondering if he really is a “used to be” instead of a “never left”. The fire is starting to spark again.. he just needs more kindling. And more kin. 

Meanwhile Louie and Huey marvel at Dewey’s “Brilliant’ breakout plan: hit the door knob with the sack of marbles til lit breaks. To be fair, they’ve known dewey as long as they’ve been alive and even by season 3 after he’s taken several levels in badass and cunning.. he still crashed a plane because his brother well-meaningly called him basic, and thought being nearly sacrificed the most times was an accomplishment. This is the best he could do and you all know it. It also works, so they can’t fault him for that... though he’s quickly kidnapped as are they. They wake up after the commerical break in a room with pure darkness, hung from the celing with a mystery person asking who they are and who they work for before Louie calls out for “uncle scrooge”... so she claps the lights back on and..

Well close. But it is Webby, who cuts them down, fangirls over meeting the nephews and asks who the evil triplet is. They all point to Louie who shrugs it off. I mean it was funny enough the first time but at this point I know he’s running several fradulent charites, almost all scamming his uncle. He’s earned that title. Webby puts them on the big board and then when asked they find out she’s Webby, her granny Beakly is housekeeper.  She then asks the big questons “Are we friends now?” “If we say yes will you let us live?” “Ha good one new best friend”

She then explains she dosen’t get to leave or anything even eat a hamburger. The boys are moved by this and Louie asks what she does for fun. She leads them to the vents and while Huey and Louie are a bit relcutant, Dewey naturally goes first pointing out it’s better than the marble room. They agree and are on their way. 

Okay unpinning that pin, the crew conciously updated Webby and Beakly as neither really had a lot of purpose in the original. It was also to conciously add more actiony females to the main family lineup, as both creators, both being fathers, preferred someone their daughters could look up to and would enjoy watching. Not someone perfect but someone intresting instead of someone who often got Kidnapped and whose main charactrisitcs were “Sweet and GIRL STEROTYPE” So cleverly they KEPT her being girly, having a skirt, liking ponies. .but also gave her all the training and skill of one Cassandra Cain, a sheltered background and an adorable personality that kept the sweetness but added her probably having killed a man at some point. It worked as Webby is one of the best parts of the show. 

Likewise Beakly was upgraded from fuddy duddy housekeeper, to badass former secret agent whose also a housekeeper, and bodyguard and confidant to scrooge. Demonstrated by her talk with him as he tries to put on his diving suit and go after the jewel of atlantis, having spotted the signs to go after it in the paper.. and wanting to prove a child wrong. Beakly points out the flaws in this, and tries to get him to connect to his family. Having lost hers, it’s easy to see why.. though the how’s a mystery.. for now i’m guess. We’ll see in the finale. But she’s Scrooge’s concisence and the one who can easiest reign him in, to the point two episodes directly have our heroes have to NOT call her or else the plot was end, but have that worked into the plot so it works. She’s the calm in his storm and hte one person he needs more than anyone else even if he dosen’t always realize it. He calls family “nothing but trouble” just as Dewey passes overhead. 

So naturally as Webby shows off Scrooge’s old treasures in a mysterious room, while the other Siblings are rightfully impressed, Dewey dismisses it as “fake” because he’s being a little shit, and they agree after seeing Donald, not knowing his reputation. The cutaway to him struggling with a stapler does not help> it’s only when Webby accidnetly uneleashes Captain Peghook, a vengeful ghost after scrooge, who gets his hand on a ghostly sword do they realize this time the monsters are real. Huey also accidently wakes up Manny, the headless manhorse! 

Things somehow get WORSE as Scrooge finds them.. but is in no state to argue and as our heroes duck and Huey tries to divise a plan.. Scrooge get’s his spark back once agian.. it’s starting to become an ember now... and he charges in despite Dewey’s cries of “No come back your old!”. It then gets VERY badass Scrooge: Oi! Beastie! What's it gonna take to shuffle you off to the afterlife? Captain Peg-Hook: The head of Scrooge McDuck! Scrooge: [cracks his neck, flips his cane around to wield like a sword] Would you settle for his hat?

Now that is how you show how badass Scrooge is in a few lines and gestures. HE proceeds to take both out, as they’ve now teamed up, easily, tricking peghook into cutting off the head of a statue of him in the area, throwinng it at him and finsihing the ghosts buisnesss (”I should’ve been more specifiiiicccccc”) and then giving Manny the head, earning him a loyal employee for life. So our days saved, the kids have faith.. and Scrooge is still pissed. He also reveals this isn’t a treasure room but the garage in what’s easily the best gag of the first half, possibly the whole special but one iconic moment is very close in that one. Webby concedes what about the stack of old magazines or the hose or.. okay he’s probably right. He berates them only for the kids to fire back, pointing out he threw them in a room, they just wanted to spend time with him... but it’s only Dewey throwing his words back in his face that pisses him off. Scrooge bellows at them to get out, clearly having internalized everything with donald into rage and trying to justify pushing eveyrone away instead of working at it... but this dosen’t have time to actually work, nor would Beakly actually throw three children out on the curb, as he hits a mystic gong.. the third time it’s been hit. And after realizing it’s already been hit twice Scrooge is faced with Pixu, the gold hutning dragon! And guess who has a giant bin of it wanting to snack on? Scrooge naturally climbs on the thing and the kids naturally want to follow, with Webby getting her first development by proudly announcing “I’m going to eat a hamburger” then explains the metaphor. They just need a pilto.. and as Launchpad has been saying but I forgot to add in “I’m a pilot”

So we get a GORGEOUS bit of Scrooge riding the dragon over the city, getting banged up as he does before finally being thrown off.. only for the kids to catch him with the planes help and try and come up with a plan. Scrooge overcomes his anger at them not staying put, especailly since Webby brings up the right weakness: as a wise man once said...

So they need some.. like say the Medusa Gauntlet Scrooge had in the garage.. that Louie naturally stole. Huey and Webby eyeroll him but they have what they need.. and Huey brought the hose and quickly comes up with a plan, tying scrooge in, and swinging him to Pixu. The kids hold on tight, Dewey calls his family awesome and our heroes win the day as Scrooge turns the dragon to stone, slips and falls.. and then GRACEFULLY dives into hte bin, showing off his diving skills and his badassery. The day is saved, the gauntlet and the dragon go in the bin for safe keeping and Scrooge calls the kids trouble.. and chuckles fondly. “Curse me kilts how i’ve missed trouble”

He’s impressed: Huey’s quick thinking, Louie’s pickpocketing, Dewey’s drive, and Webby’s magical knowledge all saved them. For once. .he’s happy again. And for the second time in life it took his family to remind him why he does this and show him the true fun of adventure: Getting to share it with those he love. And he finally has people to love again. He has family back, kids who look up to him and want to learn from him again, a REASON to adventure. Money and treasure and eveyrthig couldn’t bring della back.. but he at least sees now that whiel they certianly couldn’t.. they can bring him closely with what he has left. She’s gone, for now.. but she left behind three great kids who could use a mentor and Beakly brought him a fourth. And he just found out he has a pilot. The ember.. is now a raging flame. Scrooge is back. Because i’ts not the money or the glory.. it’s the thrill of it, the discovery.. and the family that makes adventuring worth while and he’s learned that lesson again. So he calls Beakly to clear his schedule.. forgetting she you know PUT A FUCKING PIN INTHE WALL the last time he asked her to play scretary and the onlyr eason she dind’t drive over the choke him to death, is that she’s probably happy he’s back on track.

Back at the interview Donald is stapled to the wall and gets the job.. not as an accountant mind but his employer needs a sailor.. and his employer is FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. Oh boy. 

Part 2: Escape To/From Atlantis First the last bit of background I saved: Originally, Fenton and Gyro were supposed to show up here, starting a gag of Fenton showing up but not being named until “Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System!”, setting up the sub. But the crew decided this took too much away from the focus on the duck family. The not naming him gag was also dropped, and I have two reasons why: Their given reason, which is it’d take up too much time and a logistical reason: While they gave a heartfelt pitch to Lin-Manuel Miranda, as frank wanted a strong Latino superhero to combat the lack of them on film, Frank and Matt probably thought they woudln’t get such a huge name or at least prepared for it.. and were delightfully suprised when Lin happily and tearfully agreed. So they likely scrapped it so they could properly promote the biggest name in their voice cast. Honestly it was for the best and they still go to do the idea with Drake in “The Duck Knight Returns!”, where it worked much better than it probably would have with Fenton. 

We open with the Glomgold Industries Employee Training Video! Encourging IP Theft, making things cheaper and general scumbaggery, and claming your the world’s most beloved scottish billionare. IN short the perfect introduction to everyone’s favorite insane, fake-scottish, scheming, egotistical , short sighted billionaire. As i’ve made transparent before, I fucking love the reboot version of Glomgold and he’s easily one of my favorite parts of the reboot. They clearly needded to find a new place for Glomgold in the grand scheme of things as the show was more about globetrotting adventure and family and less about getting contracts or bets about whose bigger money and more about family. While they DID do a classic bet storyline with season 2, it’s clear the old glomgold was just a bit too stiff to properly fit into this new zanier and deeper universe. 

So they instead remolded him as a half insane, knockoff scrooge, someone who PURPOSFULLY modeled himself after the guy to try and one up him, and instead of being a fairly low pitched schemer, was a bombastic idiot whose schemes were half baked, whose name was on everything he made, and whose only thing bigger than scrooge was his glorious ego. In short he was perfect for this series and perfect to show up way more often as a bumbling thorn in Scrooge’s side.. but one who COULD be effective in the right circumstances, as to not make him completely pointless. Keith was likewise the only person I could see in the roll now as with Hater he had a history of playing bombastic, egosticial morons, and made Glomgold into the enjoyable ball of ego, bombs, sharks and shouting we know and love. Some people didn’t take to this version after a while... I’m not one of those. I loved him here, I love him now, and he’s every bit as good in season 3 as he was at the start. He’s also wearing a kilt mcduck A KILT. A bit that’st STILL funny four years and 70 some episodes later. 

So we meet Gabby McStabberson and the Smashnikovs as they and Donald file in, though Donald is busy wrapping up a call with Scrooge, who assures them he has a low key day planned.. while in the sub getting ready to go to atlantis. And nearly drowning when Dewey tells Launchpad to dive while he and Scrooge are still up top. Cue credits. 

So on the sub we get our setup for the two main plots for the episode: While the main thrust of everything is Scrooge taking them to Atlantis, each leads to a diffrent plot. Louie talks to Donald and lies entirely about their day, worrying Webby.. who then reveals she just didn’t tell Beakly she took off or where she was going and encourages her to call and lie. To save time, i’m going to cover this subplot now minus the conclusion as it’s pretty simple and this review is already a day behind. Louie wants her to lie so she dosen’t worry, which is oddly sweet.. still a bit greasy, but it’s clear he means well and it shows in his own way the boy cares about Donald: Sure he’ll lie to the guy, and set up a fradulent charity to scam him.. but he also knows not to worry his dad-uncle and kows Donald is better off thinking their safe than knowing the truth. Granted it also prevents consequences for Louie.. but he’s not playing here here. He gets nothing out of Beakly not knowing the truth or helping some girl he just met, he’s just being NICE in his own twisty way. It’s a nice show of his depths: While louie will lie, cheat and steal Eddie Gurrero style, he does have a caring side underneath hit. He can read people well and while he primarily uses it to manipulate people, we’ll see time and time again that he can use it for good too and to help those he cares about. He’s nothing but supportive the whole plot, and even when he says “you can’t back that up” it’s more worrying about her and having a bit of crack than actually being a dick. 

So Webby tries lying, but is about as good as Huey is at it, saying “I’m at a friends house nothing, then makes up a clearly fake name, then says their only talking in swedish for a grandpa. Launchpad DOES help, but only by accident and snake venom. We’ll get to that. As I said this wasn’t the most complex plot. 

The main plot is our focus episode for dewey. In theory each of the kids was supposed to have one in the first five episodes: Dewey here, Webby in Daytrip of Doom, Louie in Great Dime Chase and Huey in Impossible Summit of Mt. Nevverest!. Given the last one was horribly delayed, he instead got Terror of the Terra Firmians, which in hindsight wasn’t the best spotlight episode for him. But it’s a good system; Introduce them all in the first half of the pilot then slowly focus on each one.  So now Idoloizing Scrooge, Dewey is desperate to be his sidekick and be seen as an equal and is in deep denial as scrooge instead has them all buckle up for a 17 hour ride and when Dewey questions the route, which skips the direct path.. but is clearly marked with monsters, Scrooge just snaps at him and shuts him down and disapoints the boy who only wants to prove himself to Scrooge. 

Naturally though, telling someone with that kind of need for attention and validation to wait goes poorly as he redirects the map while Launchapd is distracted.. and we find out WHY the trip is 17 hours as the direct route nearly gets them killed by mer-ducks, krakens and some sort of storm elemental. Dewey is bummed it didn’t work and annoyed to realize he’s just lumping them all together like Huey pointed out earlier. Huey is also delightful here, having brought travel bingo and sea shanties, clearly used to trips with his other uncle. And adorably taking after him. 

But Dewey’s deversion has done more than make him even MORE determined to prove himself to Scrooge whose just trying to NOT loose the son of the daughter he lost...

The Merducks have taken up residence in the bathroom, so they have to make a pitstop. Scrooge, CLEARLY forgetting how to take a trip with children, wasn’t prepared for this but they find a frieghter and make a stop. Naturally it’s GLOMGOLD’S freighter, where his sub took off from, and he and his minons including Donald find Scrooge using the bathroom.. and the boys to Donald’s rage. Unfortunately saying ‘I’ll kill him” to a raging sociopath who takes that as a sign to kill ALL of them, isn’t a smart move. 

So while Donald tries to plan to keep his family alive, said family arrives in Atlantis with a great bit of Scrooge trying to give a big speech only for them to see it first and ooh and ah. They touch down in the city.. which is flip turned upside down. Scrooge notes hti is odd but is able to read the hieroglypchs even upside downa nd notes there’s tones of deadly traps and that they shoudl stay back and..

Huey: Dewey ran in as soon as you said traps. 

So while Scrooge tries to prevent dewey loosing his head, Donald prevents launchpad loosing his and makes up an excuse about “if their dead now we can’t tourture them later” to cover his ass. Glomgold is impressed.  Dewey is Dewcipointed that the traps are upside down, though he does trigger some snakes that get launchpad. He’s fine just delirious. And possibly slowly dying but the fact he’s lived this long is a miracle. Maybe that’s why he’s missing for most of season 3 part 2, the snake venom caught up to him and drake and fenton need to find the cure. Anyways the rest of the party stays behind while Scrooge chases after Dewey, who naturally runs ahead AGAIN. 

Donald ducks out to use the bathroom, as Dewey tries the old dance through the laser grid routine.. but forgets the part where your supposed to actually avoid it, leaving it to an unseen Donald to stop the fire traps from barbqueing his boy. IT’s a really awesome sequence that shows off Donald’s still got it even if he dosen’t want it.  Scrooge naturally works smarter not harder and simply ziplines above like a badass and berates Dewey when he tells him he took “The easy way”

“Why would you want to take the hard way?” The argument that’s been brewing all episode bubbles up and once again both sides have a point: Scrooge rightfully points out Dewey’s being reckless, has no experince and needs to listen to Scrooge and learn something. Dewey claps back that Scrooge isn’t TEACHING them, just teling them to get behind him while he does things instead of trying to actively mentor them. He outright told them he was going to teach them so while Dewey’s been a wee bit overbearing, he’s right in being disappointed that Scrooge instead just wants them to be safe. I see it as his subconscious acting up: He wants and needs the kids along and is right ot keep them safe.. but is too scared to properly mentor them after what happened to Della and is just trying not to loose anybody. His methods have been right, to keep them safe.. he’s just been so determined to save them, he can’t properly TEACH them so he won’t have to forever or explain WHY. And given the First Adventure shows that while protective he did eventually let Della and Donald pull their weight.. but here he lost so much between adventures.. he just can’e bear loosing them. Dewey also rightfully points out he just lumps them together which in any other version wouldn’t be an issue, until the reboot I had no idea which one was which here? They have distinct outfits and personalities and you had 17 hours to actually get to know them. Probably less given the shortcut but still, several hours at a minimum. It’s things like this that make the series work: while there’s plenty of internal conflicts, at their best their nuanced ones, where if one character is clearly in the wrong they have a reason, and if both are right both are also a bit wrong, versus the original where it’d be scrooge or the boys grabbing the asshole ball at times (Not always mind you but when they did it was insufferable. 

However they don’t have time to argue as the bridge goes out and Glomgold finds donald.. and another way around as a result and gets to the treasure first. Scrooge notices they have donald but once again Dewey charges in 

“Unhand my uncle” “No” “Okay wasn’t prepared for that”

Naturally both sides are a bit livid, Donald for dragging his boys into danger after being part of the reason his sister is on the moon right now, and Scrooge for working with one of his greatest eneimies.. though Scrooge has less ground to stand on because as Donald points out “I can’t keep track of ALL of your sworn enemies” I mean he has lived like .. 200 years. That’s a long enemies list and Glomgold, while the most persistent, isn’t exactly the most dangerous they probably encountered. Given the guy’s an artist with Bombs and Sharks that does say a lot about how badass Scrooge is.. and how incompitent glomgold usually is. He’s just having an on day today I guess. 

Glomgold naturally holds Donald hostage, takes what is suppsidley the jewel and leaves them to drown to death, hitting a wall to let it start leaking. HIs minons run into the rest of the heroes and a fight breaks out while naturally Donald, after even more naturally getting his ass stuck in a hole, literally, rails out at Scrooge for doing this telling him “I knew I couldn’t trust you and” “This is the spear of selene all over again”

Scrooge’s only response is “I was not responsible for the Spear of Selene!”

Dude you still paid for the rocket. While Della shoulders most of the blame, SHE choose to take an untested rocket, SHE choose not to come back during the turbulence YOU still built it and hid it from donald and didn’t make sure she couldn’t just take off in it. Your both to blame. And as I mentioned earlier to the least extent but still an extent, so was Donald telling his grown, adult sister whose as stubborn as she is what she could and couldn’t do. He had the right idea and was the only person trying to be an adult here in this situation.. but he still took the wrong approach with stopping her. Still he got far more ground to stand on than Scrooge, who also took his nephews out. Dewey stops both by pointing out that while yes Scrooge took them on an adventure he’s been doing NTOHING but keeping him safe and most of it was his fault which disarms donald a bit. Though Dewey is quickly distracted.. but for once by an obersvation: the gem glowing above thaem that glowed when they entered... and since the city got flipped turned upside down.. THAT’S the real jewel. Dewey asks Donald ot let it flood so they can get it and begs his uncle to trust him despite his doubts which he does. They get it and everyone’s okay and even more when they reunite with the others they find they’ve handily beaten them. To me this is where donalds walls go down a bit: he realizes he’s been smothering the kids, and that while he may hate his uncle for good reason... he’s not going to make the same mistake with them and while he lied.. Don probably realized if Scrooge had been honest Donald would never have let them go. He can trust him.. and he can trust his kids will be alright without him. 

So Glomgold naturally leaves his minions to die, but our heroes manage to make it to the sub, and Gabby asks if they can bum a ride. Not wanting to do any murders they agree. On the surface Glomgold is showing off his jewel, only for Scrooge to upstage him second’s later with the real jewel, and point out his is “nice but defintly cursed”... and right on cue Glomgold gets dragged off with an octopus and let’s off his first “Curse you mcduck!”. Scrooge offers clean water and power thorugh it, for a price because of course he does, and has offically made his grand comeback. 

We get back to Webby’s subplot, as she’s confronted by Beakly.. who naturally being a former spy easily figured it out immieditely but is only upset her grandaughter lied to her. And even at that she dosen’t raise her voice or anything about the matter, knowing it’d only make her feel worse and getting that her grandaughter needs to see the world and that much like donald, she walled her up to prevent loosing what little she had left. And since being with Scrooge is safe as with her, she can go with him anytime just tell her first kay? They hug. Awwww. 

Donald likewise apologizes, admitting that whatever has passed, he misjudged his uncle here and while not forgiving him yet, is at least willing to let him back into his life and into the boys.. on holidays and stuff at least. But fate forces his hand.. or rather his 10 year old nephew-son having left the engine on and neither having turned it off, meaning his boat goes boom and is in no liveable condition. But Scrooge has the space in his heart and mansion for them.

So as we close the kids help move the artifacts all around the house instead of just the garage while Launchapd drops the boat. While clearing out Dewey notices the painting from earlier.. and finds part of it was flipped over...

“Mom?!” 

Now keep in mind, while nowadays Della’s inclusion in the show is one of the most famous and treasured parts of the show.. back then this was a fucking shock. Disney never really cared about the boys mother and outside of one comics story never really went into what happened. So the fact she was not only an actual important part of the plot but we’d find out was a HUGE wham moment and left my jaw dropped after seeing the episode. Like I would with the finales I had read no spoilers and had no idea this was coming but damn was it a huge and welcome suprise and how far they’d take it and how much they’d flesh her out was an even bigger one. Easily one of the best big reveals i’ve ever seen. The only better one I can think of from this series itself... is the end of season 2. But that’s for another time. 

Final Thoughts on Woo-Ooo!:

This two parter/hour long special.. is still one of the episodes best and easily one of the best pilots. It does slow down a bit in pacing in the second half, but otherwise is just an immaculate , beautiful pilot movie that introduces and fleshes out all 8 main characters, maybe Launchpad the least but enough to still work, gives us some big mysteries to work out, and even throws in Glomgold’s first apperance. It sets the tone, reverent and adventuerous but also with it’s own weird and wacky sense of humor and world building, and universe perfectly. I .. don’t have much else to say really it’s just THAT good and really worth checking out. If you somehow haven’t seen it go watch it and if you haven’t seen it in a while might be worth a rewatch before the finale. The absolutely perfect start to an amazing ride. 

Next on the Della Arc: Dewey and Webby try to figure out where Della is while Louie learns a valuable life lesson and  pisses off a killer robot along the way.

Next on the Blog: Amphibia Season 2 is back! 

Until then if you liked this review follow for more and if you could please support me on patreon. Even a buck a month helps and juicy stretch goals give you na incentive to contirbute. We’re 5 bucks away from 20 dollars a month which means a review of super ducktales and a Darkwing Duck review EVERY. MONTH. So contribute now! Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure. 

[kingreywrites]

Smell The Ashes

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 4434

Rapunzel Appreciation Week Day Five: Life As A Princess

Summary: Let go, let go, let go Rapunzel pleaded, tears falling from her eyes, and without a conscious thought, she raised her hands towards the sky and let the power escape her grasp.

Or what if, in Plus Est En Vous, Rapunzel hadn't managed to finish the incantation after bringing Cassandra back?

Read on ao3

@s-vnshiine

It took focus, to hold the power of the entire universe in her hands - but Rapunzel had plenty of it. Cassandra died. Cassandra died protecting the kingdom, and helping her defeat Zhan Tiri, and Rapunzel knew she had to save her, knew that their story couldn't end like this. There was still too much unsaid, too many discussions to have, too… Too… much everything.

Cassandra died, and Rapunzel had only one thought in her mind: bringing her back.

That was why, perhaps, she couldn't stop herself from looking in her best friend's direction when she heard her nickname be whispered. Rapunzel turned her head, and saw Cassandra awake, and breathing, and alive and the only thing she felt suddenly was relief. Rapunzel breathed again, and in her overwhelming feeling of joy, she forgot something.

She lost her focus on the incantation. She lost her focus on the stone.

Suddenly, that powerful energy that was gently pulsating through her body became a burning pain, starting from her hands and spreading through her skin like fire. Rapunzel tried to hold on, to find her equilibrium again, but the pain was unrelenting, as if the stone couldn't accept her as a bearer anymore. Rapunzel thought she made a noise, but the pain was too encompassing for her to know - and suddenly, all she could think about was let go.

Let go, let go, let go she pleaded, tears falling from her eyes, and without a conscious thought, she raised her hands towards the sky and let the power escape her grasp.

The next thing she knew, she was on her knees breathing harshly, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her palms buzzing with pain and, when she looked down, she could see the red and raw patch of skin left behind - they were burnt. Not too badly, but enough to hurt.

"Raps?" Cassandra repeated, and Rapunzel turned enough to see her friend standing, looking down at her worriedly.

Cassandra seemed hesitant to get closer, but Rapunzel didn't even think - she scrambled to get up and threw herself at her, nearly crying with relief. She had thought- she had thought- Cassandra had been dead. And now she was hugging her back, whispering that she was fine and Rapunzel could only squeeze tighter, eyes closed and heart still beating too fast in her chest. She had done it. She had saved her friend and… And…

When Rapunzel opened her eyes again, the only thing she could see was Eugene, still lying on the ground a few feet back.

The overwhelming relief she was feeling turned into cold dread in mere seconds. Rapunzel let her arms fall from around Cassandra, body thrumming with anxiety as she looked back towards the castle's patio. Her friends, her family, her subjects- for a moment, she had forgotten. For a moment, she had been so focused on Cassandra, and on what she was herself feeling, that she forgot how hurt everyone else was. They were all lying on the ground, stuck under Zhan Tiri's rocks and-

Rapunzel had brought Cassandra back, but she had failed her kingdom.

She wrangled back the guilt that was threatening to submerge her, because the "what if" scenarios could wait. What couldn't wait was the people she loved, being hurt and weak and in need of help. Rapunzel ran to Eugene's side, and kneeled beside him quickly, hands trembling above his head. If he wasn't okay- he had talked earlier, he had told her not to take the stone, so that must mean he was fine, right? He had to be fine, because Rapunzel could already feel herself unravelling and if he wasn't here-

Thankfully, Eugene twitched and raised his head. "Sunshine," he whispered softly, relief evident in his tone, "I'm so glad you're okay."

Rapunzel laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. His face was a mess. She had noticed it when she first saw him on the ground, but without the lighting of the eclipse, his black eye was all the more evident. She couldn't see most of his skin, hidden away by his Captain uniform, but there was already so many bruises on his face and around his neck that she couldn't even imagine what the rest of his body looked like. In comparison, most of her and Cassandra's aches had been soothed by the stone's power - but they were the only ones lucky enough to be in its radius.

Eugene groaned, and she noticed suddenly that he was trying to get up. She hesitated, not sure if she should force him to stay down or if she should try to help him, but he was already halfway up so she didn't truly have a choice in this. When her arms went around his waist, she noticed the pained moan he couldn't quite contain, and she wanted to cry all over again.

"What happened to you?" she asked instead, once he was on his knees too, leaning heavily on her.

"Let's just say that, uh, Adira packs a mean punch?" he smiled, but she couldn't find it in herself to find this funny.

He was hurt and if… If she had been more focused, if she had finished the incantation, then none of this would be happening. He would be fine, and the kingdom would be fine, and it was all her fault that they weren't.

"Hey," Eugene whispered, his gloved hand coming to brush out a tear from her eyes. "You did a good job, Rapunzel."

It was a simple sentence. He didn't even use a nickname, didn't try to imply anymore than what was said. His eyes were half-lidded from the exhaustion, but still looking at her softly, full of love and tenderness. It was a simple, honest sentence, but the words felt like a punch to her already unstable emotional state because- she didn't do a good job. She failed him, failed her friends, failed her kingdom, because she was so focused on her friend that she forgot her responsibility as a Princess. You did a good job, Rapunzel, Eugene said, and Rapunzel broke down right here and now, because she was tired and there was still so much to fix. She hid her face in his neck, hot tears slipping from her eyes, and she could feel him hug her, the pressure weaker than it usually was. Eugene was hurt, and- and-

She felt him shift a little, one hand leaving her back, and before she could wonder about what he was doing, Cassandra was here behind her, hugging them both too. She was alive, and warm, when Rapunzel remembered feeling her limp body under her hands only some minutes prior. Maybe- maybe she should have done more, yes, but Cassandra was alive. Eugene was hurt, but alive. Same for the Coronans. She might have not succeeded in healing them magically but they could still heal - Cassandra wouldn't have had this possibility.

She knew Eugene had done this on purpose; had reminded her of what she had accomplished, because he knew her well enough to guess the guilt that was eating at her. Despite everything, Eugene always put her first, always made sure that she was fine - and now, it was her turn to be strong for others.

Rapunzel dried her tears, and got up, feeling both Eugene's and Cassandra's gaze on her. She surveyed her kingdom - saw how the rock prisons seemed to be fraying already without the stone to power them; saw how some people, notably members of the brotherhood, were slowly getting up by themselves - and she knew that the next part of their lives was going to be difficult. Sometimes, healing had to take more than magic, but she would be their to help her people along.

She would be the Princess they needed.

And when she looked back at Eugene and Cassandra, they were both standing, Eugene leaning a little on Cassandra for help. Most importantly, they were looking at her confidently, certain that she would make the best decisions - and the pressure she might have felt from this trust once upon a time was muffled now.

"Come on," she smiled, voice still scratchy from her previous tears, "we've still got a kingdom to save."

------

Fixing the damages from Zhan Tiri's takeover was hard work. Rapunzel knew, going in, that it would take time, and that she might have to maintain her optimism even when things were bleak because her kingdom was counting on her - but knowing it and doing it were two different things.

She was tired.

The decaying incantation had severely weakened a lot of people. Thankfully, they quickly understood that the further away people had been from Zhan Tiri, the less they had been affected by the spell - which meant that the Coronans who didn't participate in the battle came forward to help in the clean up.

It was… better than nothing. Rapunzel was grateful for all the help they could get.

One week later, most people that had been right in the center of the events were still confined to bed rest. They were not dying, thankfully, but their health was frail and they needed more time to recover. There were three exceptions to this: first, Adira and Hector, who didn't like the idea of being stuck in Corona, and had decided to go heal somewhere else. Rapunzel had tried to convince them to change their minds, worried, but in Adira's words, they were not meant to stay in one place for too long, and they had to clear some things up together anyway. She hoped they were fine, and she had offered them a place to stay in the castle if they ever needed one.

The last exception was Eugene, who had been powering through since day one, and had quickly resumed his activities as Captain. Rapunzel was more grateful than she could ever put into words - he had been dealing with protecting Corona, making sure that security was still tight despite the kingdom lacking more than half of its guards. He had also helped organise the medical assistance given to the citizens, and the giant infirmary Rapunzel had insisted on opening in the castle, because she wanted to make sure that everyone would have access to the help they needed. She didn't know what she would have done if Eugene hadn't been managing the logistics so well, hadn't gotten that weight off her shoulders.

With her parents still bedridden, Rapunzel was effectively acting as Queen, more or less stuck with smoothing out some ruffled feathers across the continent. Some kingdoms were angry, to say the least, that Corona had nearly let an all-powerful demon destroy the world. Some tried to take advantage of their weakened position to make outrageous demands, and Rapunzel had to squash them immediately before they became too big of a problem. Between requests of new unfavourable trade deals, discussions of Corona paying for damages that they had nothing to do with and even the proposition of an alliance through a marriage, Rapunzel's headache was a well-fed, ever-growing monster.

(To be fair, the marriage proposal had made her laugh, until she understood the seriousness of the letter. Then, it was all a game of saying no without actually offending the other party.)

So, optimism was hard to maintain. Though, there were positives: a lot of kingdoms had also came forward to help, and sent in medical assistance and food. Equis, especially, had been a greater help than she had dared hope for when she asked - King Trevor was still as eccentric as ever, but his fondness for her mom and his animosity towards her dad made him want them both to be okay, so they could go on with that weird dynamics of theirs. Rapunzel wasn't about to say no. Another positive was that Corona's crops were not as affected as she had first feared. Most of the damage actually focused on infrastructure, so the animals and the plants were mostly okay, as were the people who hadn't faced Zhan Tiri directly.

No one had died and, for that, Rapunzel would be eternally grateful. Her mistake was still eating at her, even though numerous people had told her she had done her best - but she knew she could have done more. She was trying to be the Princess Corona deserved, trying to be strong for everyone in their time of need, but she didn't know what she might have done if she had learnt that her letting go had resulted in someone passing away.

Things weren't too bad, overall. Stressful, yes, but she knew they could heal from this.

There was, however, one last thing that worsened her constant headache.

"Your Highness," one council member said, condescension dripping from his tone, "you can't expect us to let Miss Cassandra go without any consequences simply because she is your friend, I hope you know that?"

The room exploded in half-yelled arguments as Rapunzel pinched her nose, already exhausted. In barely a week, they had had this conversation approximately twice a day. The council was a bunch of old, wealthy men who didn't have much power at all - but in time of crisis, they suddenly appeared to give their opinions on everything. Rapunzel actually quite liked the idea of a council, and hadn't seen anything wrong with them helping her deal with the fallout of Zhan Tiri, but it quickly became clear that these men knew nothing about the hardships Coronans faced. It needed a serious reform, if she ever hoped it could be of any help, but now was not the time for it, and so, she was stuck with dealing with them for the time being.

"And I hope you know," Rapunzel said lowly, commanding silence across the room, "esteemed council-member, that I do not take dearly in being accused of playing favourites."

"The people need someone to blame-"

"The people are smarter than that," she glared in his direction, "and if it is truly a need, then you'll find in the ancient demon Zhan Tiri the perfect subject of your ire."

"But still-"

"Enough." She hadn't yelled, but in that moment, no one would have dared going against her. Raising herself up on her chair, she exuded confidence and royalty. "We had this conversation already, but let me make it clear one last time: I will not send Cassandra to prison. We have punished criminals before, and it only served to push them further down on their paths, making them bitter and resentful."

Her tone was still even but the images of Varian flashing through her mind nearly made her waver - she took a deep breath, and kept talking.

"Cassandra showed that she was ready to give up everything for this kingdom," she explained, tightening her still bandaged fists under the table. "I need- We need to encourage her in this direction, and we also need everyone that faces our justice to know that redemption is worth it. That, if they strive to do better, they will find a helping hand in our kingdom, and not a punishing stick. As your Princess, and your future Queen, I know that this is the only possible direction Corona can take to better its juridical system."

For the first time since she met them, none of the men of the council had anything to answer to that. In her heart, she wanted to keep going, and tell them how Cassandra had died for them; how she had then helped gather the wounded with her, how she had tried to make amends with those she wronged, how she was still helping rebuild and making herself useful. Rapunzel wanted to defend her best friend, because she was persuaded that Cassandra didn't deserve the anger of the council - but Princess Rapunzel knew that her personal reasons were not of interest here. She couldn't think about it in terms of what Cassandra deserved, but in terms of what any Coronans, and even foreign criminals would deserve if they had committed the same crimes.

She didn't want to be the leader of a country where someone could be hanged for stealing, and she had spent more than enough time accepting the situation as is.

And the more she had thought of it, since they vanquished Zhan Tiri, the more she was sure that there were other people - people like Lady Cain, the Saporians, or even the Stabbingtons - that she had wronged by not giving them the chance they deserved. She didn't know if she would ever find the solution for all of these problems, but the first step was to try.

"Thus, Cassandra will not be going to jail, and I will not accept another argument about it," Rapunzel finally sighed. "I think that it's enough for today's session anyway," she said and, soon, the councilmen were going their own way, whispering frantically between themselves.

Once she was alone, Rapunzel stretched tiredly, realising that it would soon be lunch and that she hadn't even gone to town to survey the reconstruction like she did everyday. Being a Princess meant that she had to deal with plenty of debates, and plenty of bureaucratic arguments, but she refused to stay confined to the castle all day. She wanted Coronans to see that she was here for them and, by going to see with her own eyes the state of things, she knew she was forcing the most unprincipled people to do the best work they could. She wouldn't stand for houses to be badly fixed because some people wanted to make money out of others' misery.

"Uh, Princ- I mean, your Highness?" a shy voice said, interrupting her thoughts. She turned and saw that it was a young guard, probably a little inexperienced with his current position since Eugene had to shift things around so the castle's security was assured.

"Yes?" she answered as gently as she could, because she knew her current bad mood was no reason to spook a well-meaning guard.

"I- uhm, I didn't want to barge in earlier, so I waited because… Well, uh, I'm here because… TheCaptainmighthavepassedout?" he blurted out, voice high and incomprehensible.

"I'm sorry what?" Rapunzel blinked.

"The Captain has, uh, passed out earlier-"

"Where is he?" she interrupted, her heart already beating too fast.

"Your bedroom, but, your Highness-"

Rapunzel didn't hear what he had to say, because she was already rushing through the castle. Her bedroom was so faraway, and Eugene had passed out - she knew he was pushing himself too hard, she should have known it would happen but no, she was so grateful for his help that she didn't even stop to think. What a good Princess she made, she thought bitterly, when she wasn't even able to make sure the love of her life got rest. Eugene had been right with everyone when Zhan Tiri used the decay incantation, and she knew that, even before this, he got kicked around by the mind controlled brotherhood. And yet, she had let him ignore his health - had let herself ignore his health. Rushing up the stairs, Rapunzel was cursing herself out for believing everything was fine with him, because what if- what if-

When she barged into her bedroom, she startled both a -thankfully- awake Eugene and his doctor, in the middle of what seemed to be an argument. Eugene was sitting at the edge of the bed, looking ready to get up any seconds, and the doctor seemed about to try and push him back.

Eugene was also shirtless, and the bruises littering his skin felt like they took the breath away from Rapunzel. She had seen them already, but Eugene had made sure that it was always in the middle of the night, where the darkness on his skin blended with the room quite easily.

"Princess!" the doctor exclaimed, once he regained his composure. "Please tell the Captain that he can't get up again."

"Sunshine," Eugene said, annoyance clear for everyone to see as he threw a death glare at the other man, "please tell the doctor that not only am I fine, but I also have a lot of work to do and I've already lost enough time as it is."

He glanced her way when she didn't answer, obviously looking for support, and she saw how his eyebrows immediately creased with concern at her appearance. She was still breathing heavily, one of her bandaged hand holding the other near her chest, and she knew her hair had been mussed up from the run here. She was a mess, and he- Eugene thought-

"Doctor," she said, ignoring Eugene for the time being, "what is wrong with Eugene?"

"Oh," he smiled awkwardly, pushing his glasses back, "well, the most concerning thing is that the Captain is running a fever-"

"-a low fever-"

"-that still made him pass out, so I'd say it's high enough," the doctor answered loudly, making Eugene frown. "He's also been ignoring my advice to rest. It's not as much of an advice as it is an order, considering that the effects of the incantation, his cracked ribs and the numerous hits his body sustained all need time before he can be recovered. Running around-"

"-helping people!"

"Even if it's to help, this is putting too much strain on your body, Captain," the doctor insisted, fully turned back towards Eugene. "The fever and the fainting spells are signs your body is sending to tell you that you need rest, if I were you, I would listen to them."

"I'm fine," Eugene laughed.

"For now. But your fever is already concerning enough, and if you don't rest now, your body will force you to."

"Come on-"

"Eugene," Rapunzel whispered, but it was enough to silence both of them. She had heard enough. She was still looking at him, at his torso covered in deep purple bruises and yellowing ones, at his still half-closed eyes and at the blush on his cheeks that she knew now was from a fever and - she knew it was enough. "Thank you, doctor," she said simply, "I'll take care of him now."

The dismissal couldn't be more obvious and, since seeing the Princess in anything but a good mood was enough to freak out every Coronans that knew her, the doctor didn't wait around more. Soon, it was only her and Eugene, both looking at the other silently. He opened his mouth, trying to come up with an explanation, or an excuse, or anything but, before he could talk, she walked in front of him and put her hand on his forehead.

He was burning up.

"Low fever, yeah right," she muttered. "How long have you been running it?"

"I- what do you mean?" Eugene grinned, before sighing under her gaze. "Two days, but it's nothing!"

"Noth-" Rapunzel stopped herself, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

She was stressed. She knew she was still annoyed by the meeting, and that trying to get everything back to normal these last few days had been exhausting, but Eugene didn't deserve to get yelled at because of it. He was only trying to help her, but he still hadn't understood that she couldn't- it wouldn't help her if he was sick. It wouldn't help her to worry about him every minutes she wasn't at his side, wondering if her mistake cost him his life again.

"Oh Sunshine no, I'm sorry," Eugene breathed, and Rapunzel realised that she was crying, holding on tightly to his shoulders as she blinked quickly. She didn't mean for her tears to fall, but it was all too much, and Eugene had passed out - he had been unconscious, because of a fever he was ignoring to be there for her, and all of this wouldn't have happened if only she had focused for a moment longer.

"I can't do this alone," she exhaled through her tears, lowering her head until it was resting on Eugene's. "This- This is so hard, and I'm trying to be strong but I can't-"

"You won't be alone," Eugene assured, pushing her hair away as helped her in his lap. "You'll have me, and your family, and all your friends-"

"But today, most of them are hurt, and I still have to be the Princess Corona needs."

"And you're doing wonderfully!" he exclaimed, and she lifted her head only to see the brilliant smile he was shooting her way. "I know it all feels like too much, but in barely a week, you've given everyone hope, and purpose, and- you're incredible, Sunshine. You are the Princess Corona needs."

He looked so convinced that Rapunzel had to chuckle tiredly. "Then, if I'm able to do such good work by myself, will you rest?"

Eugene grimaced, but she saw immediately that he wasn’t going to protest. He had backed himself into a corner. Which meant that she gently managed to force him into lying down fully on the bed, because "rest" was starting now. Once he was under the cover, she hesitated for a moment, before deciding that her trip in town could wait until the afternoon, and that she could sit at his side for the time being.

"I need to tell Henry that he has to act as Captain," Eugene thought aloud, shifting a little.

"I'll do it," she shushed him, "resting implies not thinking about work."

Eugene pouted, but Rapunzel started to stroke his hair and he didn't feel like being annoyed after that. Slowly, she twirled the strands with her fingers, knowing that these motions never failed to sooth him. That, his fever and his obvious exhaustion quickly got the better of him. One moment he was mumbling something incoherently, eyes nearly closed, and the next, he was snoring softly, finally looking peaceful and relaxed.

Rapunzel kept her hand in his hair anyway, looking down at him fondly. She had visited her parents and her hurt friends multiple times since everything had happened, and none of them had seemed able do more than one activity a day before falling back asleep. Adira and Hector had been exceptions, but Eugene had never even stopped moving since he got up that first time.

He was an idiot, and she was a little peeved that he would play with his health like this but… She loved him, for always being willing to go beyond everything for her.

She knew the life of a Princess wasn't easy, and that of a Queen even less so, but as long as she had Eugene at her side, she knew she would be fine.

[newgeht]

6 Will Never Be 9

Position 97. Shining Another piece in the Kama Sutra works for Fairy Tail on AO3. NS//FW under the cut

Summary: Sting’s constant chasing would never stray, stubborn in his own right. Coming face to face with the battle that raged in his conscious -finding Minerva. Pairing: Stinerva Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Minerva Orlando, Rogue Cheney Words: 2.5k Rating: M AO3 | FFNet

It was an awful day; he knew it and she knew it. Every puff and stride Minerva took welling the frustrations he felt himself. “C’mon, baby. We have tomorrow. Sit down with me.” 

He patted the mattress, better than the ones he took with Rogue; Minerva never accepting of the best. The top brands, clothes, shoes, status -but what was it all worth in the end? If they kept chasing circles like this an answer would never be found. And at this point he knew it wasn’t about the mission. 

“Baby -just look at yourself. What the hell was that?” The silk of her dress matched her state of mind. Unrelentlessly pacing the expanse of their suite, coming back and forth through the door. 

Sting laid back on the bed, pursing his lips. A shower would soothe his troubles but Minerva would go back if left alone. Those they had been pursuing stealing his own competence in the midst of battle. Damned fairies. One small fluke and everything had been lost. The thoughts he had curling around the brilliance he was building -they were building. 

He tried again. “Don’t be so gloom, Minnie.” In her tracks she turned into a board, stiffened straight. It brought back their earliest memories and it lifted his frown; the nickname dancing across his tongue. Every syllable ephemeral to his senses, wishing that it was the same for Minerva. 

Everything serene taken from her sheer abrasiveness, “Sting, don’t do this now.” 

But he sang it aloud, with jubilation as he chanted the childhood name. “My little mouse, your ears have become loose. Let me fix them.” 

Unrelenting and frigid as she stared him down, only worsening his sly teasing. Minerva wouldn't do anything; for she secretly loved it. Loved the memories they had shared behind her father's back. He ruminated on his way over, maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to approach her. 

"You saved our asses out there, y'know." Gently prying open her folded arms, fingers sliding over the broken silk. Almost electrifying as he passed over her olive skin. 

She glowered, "Tell me something I don't know." Her hands settling in his chest -holding back a whimper as her thumbs rubbed over the scars. A final warning, "I will find myself another room. It's over, for now."

His hands still managing to creep up into her obsidian locks. Tension subsiding from her jaw, down to her shoulders as he pulled through. Careful not to disturb her small buns as he combed through every knot. As every bump was smoothed, they descended to the floor. Minerva falling into his arms. 

Exhaustion finally consuming her being. "Tomorrow. We'll be on our way home tomorrow." 

"They're already out of the woods," scoffing at his optimism. His fingers playing with the two knots settled on her head. Decrowning her of the title he'd bestowed, all traces of a mouse gone. 

Sting wasn't sure if there was anything else to say. Only one other way to soothe her doubts, fearing for himself as he crooned down. His lips doting on the crown of her hair. "Sting…," her eyes swimming as she looked up, "Don't make a mistake." 

But this was his girlfriend. His lips diving on the her cupid's bow, savoring the chalky red lipstick. Holding her chin as he pressed into her, ready to give what Minerva wanted. She pulled away for a brief moment, only to be covered by his once more. He needed this. "Please," he whimpered. 

Swelling with joy as she turned swiftly, falling into each other. The comforter pulled from the bed as Sting haphazardly placed it on the floor, afraid to release the tigress within his hands. He inched toward the zipper on her back, Minerva's bosom arching into him. His hesitation dissipating as he disrobed her, descending upon her curves as they laid on the floor. A beautiful escape. 

Each heady mewl and clawful of his skin, encouraging his ministrations. Biting down her breasts and taut stomach, marking her bruises with hickies in place. Spots that should have already been filled with sincerity. Encroaching onto what he held himself back from for so long. Rasping as he loomed above her dark patch, "Nobody will ever lay a finger on you." 

Gripping her waist as he delved into her folds, laughter mixed with the offset of pleasure. “And what of magic? Titania?” 

He merely peered up to wink, whispering into her thighs. “Nothing, nothing. Forget about that bitch.” 

Plush peaks wrapping enveloping him; now his own protection. He lapped at her arousal but stilled. Minerva’s fingers close to ridding his pants, coyly pressing against the pearl he had longed to rid of. The slightest of tremors working their way as Sting ripped through the turmoils he raved over nightly. A great rift the games created closing within a matter of seconds as every light touch made him regret keeping to his fragile tempts. 

“Minerva-” Cut off by tenderness. Softly petting the part he couldn’t stand, circling around and nipping. Gasping from pure devotion she sought to give. 

And down went his boxers and Sting mewled as he lay on his side. Unable to see the passionate glint in the hazel eyes he knew so well. “It’s a two-way street,” Minerva blowing softly as her finger mused against his folds; unhesitant to push in. 

Returning to the honeyed crests of the space between her thighs. Flattening his tongue against the dark muscle; Minerva biting down on the bundle of nerves. Just how he liked it. Her digits only distracting him as they pumped inside. Crying out as Sting delved into her pulsing lips. It wouldn't be plausible for his lady to give him the release, spearing his tongue into her heat. 

Her plush thighs tightening around his head -a good sign. Giving her darkened folds open-mouthed kisses; heat that pooled in his stomach, falling between Minerva’s fingers. Into her mouth. Sting already on the onset of a climax, clutching her bottom. Sidling closer to the virtues of his woman, careening Minerva into the highest glory. Just as she did for himself. 

Every muscle in his legs spasming as she continued to piston her fingers. A low grumble as prodded her swollen button with his tongue. Not ready to lose, not this time. 

“Miner-” Not a peep as he growled the rest of her name. Playfully pulling her waist, tracing her stomach with petty kisses. “The bed, now.” 

Her eyes piercing as she rolled over, sprawling onto the floor. “You’re the one who choose the floor.” 

Unrelenting as his kisses traced the hardened muscles of her back. Her curtain of hair pulled over her shoulders as he continued to the nape of her neck. A quiet giggle as he blew; the only ticklish spot she had. “I’ll pull you up there if I have to.” 

Her small musing erupting into a chuckle. “Tomorrow is a new day, Sting. To which you need to be well-rested.” 

Sting stalled as he hovered. What exactly was she implying? They had shared a bed before, too many times to count. “We don’t have to continue…” 

“Remember Jiemma?” Not even addressed as father. “I will see you tomorrow.” 

“But, Minnie,” his eyes watering. Fumbling as she wiggled away from him. “Don’t go,” he griped and commanded. 

Her chuckle only worsening. “My dress, baby.” The nickname littered with regret yet love. 

Stiff as his fingers listened. Even righting the small wrinkles in the embroidered silk. “Tomorrow?” 

She merely nodded. One last kiss placed against his lips before she stood. Still beautiful. Still hardened and cold. And Sting still lingering as he gripped her hand. Still as he watched her go. Only for him to be left on the golden bedspread. Holding tight as her scent lingered, her lips, her entire being. 

One idea spurring the rest of the night. An entirety of an ordeal as he plotted against their guild master. But as his plan worked, it didn’t keep the treasure. Their lady hit the ground running after their humiliating defeat. So much for the promises of a new day. 

~~~~~

Magnolia was rutted within the depths of hell, every building for miles to see crumbled within ruin. Fires of the highest degree surrounding the allied guilds as they fought against the latest enemy: Tartaros. Cringing every moment another drop of iron was spent, spilling from the innocent. A fucking mess. 

Exhaustion his second end only after the faintest essence of nostalgia passed him. Sting careful not to tell a single soul of what he was really after. His right hand just as belligerent as he came to be as the passed through demon after demon. Rogue the only person who has the faintest sense of what he was after. 

He screamed as heat seared past his side. Stumbling through the rubble as he grew closer to the darkened heavenly scent of orchids. 

"We have to go back," Rogue hissed. The slayer commandeering as ever. "Our allies-" 

Sting growled, pressing his hands against his abdomen. His vigor draining as he wheezed, "Our friend has more importance, don't you think?" 

Another whimper as Rogue's arms hoisted him up. Any sense or reason failing to reach Sting as he rambled on about their newfound duties to the guild alliance but he was Sabertooth's guild master, not Rogue! 

"Enough," inhaling for a timeless minute, "she's here. Somewhere. I can handle this, go back." 

Sting's dismissal untaken as his right hand sniffed the blotted air. Neither of their heightened senses peaking in the state of disarray. Though they were managing under the circumstances. 

He just wanted to call her name but feared Minerva would run. The usual dance they had played since she first took off. 

"Listen," Rogue echoed. The grip he held around his own shoulders tightening.

All he could identify was the roaring of fire. Raucous explosions caused by magic or the curse of that one blonde demon. None of those wretched spawn having the chance to fall to the good's knees. Each stringent infiltrating what he was truly reaching for -breathing. Sting closed his eyes, unsure of what to focus on. Training his ears to the most minute of noises; pebbles of wreckage tumbling from a nearby building. 

And in that fold, was the cress of labored breaths. All welling from an injured bodice, inching his nose as he realized it was exactly what he'd scrounged for. 

Ripping away from Rogue's side, he tumbled through cement and broken walls to the wreckage of battle. The loser laying in a bed of steely metal and dust.

"Minnie," Sting croaked. Tears welling from his eyes as he looked upon her battered form.

He had changed but so had she. 

Twisted horns sprouting from her head, in conjunction with the raven patch that sat over her eye. Claws scathed and pointed from the tips of her fingers. Each limb wrapped in an unfathomable purple fabric, a monster. What had they done to her? 

Her nickname going unacknowledged as he kneeled next to her. Anger burning through the tears that threatened to spill. Barely glossing over the bruises and burns that marred her olive skin. Just where to begin with first aid was mind boggling. The smallest idea of killing whoever did this to Minerva sprouting. 

Her breathing became more narrowed, Sting only becoming more frenzied. Pressing his forehead against her own, "Wake up." Letting his fingers entangle within her knotted tresses as he begged. "Pleasepleaseplease… We all make bad choices. We've both been through it," hoarse as he continued, "and- and we've all been forgiven. Just give yourself the chance." 

The long moment growing as he bore down. His tears streaking down her sharp cheekbones in lines of gray. 

Just give yourself the chance. 

Hope dwindling as Minerva's chest heaved less and less. The eerie presence of Rogue unsettling as Sting lay there with her. 

"She needs treatment," obvious advice coming from his partner. 

He shook his head, knowing she would be condemned if they brought her to Fairy Tail's makeshift medical tent. Struggling to think as her lifeless body lay under him. Only one thought pervading: his own curse of light. Growing ever more tiresome as his hands lined up over her abdomen, a long winded force of magic scorching through his fingers. 

"Insanity," Rogue belted, "Your magic can't heal." And he was right. Sting wasn't going to let that small rule stop him, it was his last resort. 

A pure rune widening as he muttered the Latin verse. One that promised gave an unveiled promise of protection of evil, though only those vain enough could pertain the blessing. Sting hoped his sheer will could surpass the demonic blood that pumped through Minerva. The crest of the seal beginning to burn into her abdomen, curling around the dark scrawl of Tartaros's mark. 

As the amble pressed forth, every expanse of deterred space filled with the blinding rays of the spell. Just the beginning as the real purge welled, dark spirals springing from every inch of her pale skin. Gaining the reaction Sting wished for moments earlier. 

Racked with turmoil, Minerva’s scream pierced his own eardrums; leaving them ringing as he held her down. He couldn’t drop the incantation now, nearing the end of the verse. Keeping his eyes closed, hoping to the gods that she would still. 

Sting knew that the purification would hurt like hell. Minerva just had to hold on for a little bit longer. Hoping that she could feel his love as he pressed on. Come back -the ethernano he pulled on bringing her to life with every second. 

She heaved forward, Minerva’s nails dragging into his skin. Sting reeling from the contact, burning from her painful touch. The last of the demonic presence draining from her hazel orbs. The exhaustion he felt before opening ten fold as he held onto her, panting in the stale air. All three of them struggling to breathe as he finished the spell. 

Damned if he couldn’t heal but he was the salvant. The sanctuary he always wished to be as his forehead stepped low, brushing against Minerva’s sillowed bangs. 

Strangled as she cried, “Sting…” 

He hushed her, clasping his hand behind her head. Every suppressed emotion revealed as his own cries were unleashed. “I’m here, Minnie,” falling at the name, “I always have been.” 

And he always will be. 

“You ready to go home?” The barest smile riding on his lips. 

An unheeded answer as Minerva’s tears fell onward. Unknowing of the final battles that raged as Rogue followed him down the path of Magnolia. Checking out at his own notice. 

Never did they unravel as they curled into each other’s arms. The new dawn stretching whence upon the two, a cusp of the light they were to develop once more. One kiss was lain on her brow, standing amidst the damage of a pervading evil. In time it would end as all things do. The only fruition making Sabertooth stronger. 

[marriedandttc]

This is going to be a lot of technical discussion, but it’s all really important information. I’m always learning, and I hope you are too! We have additional information about our last cycle and framework in place for our next.

Our RE called a special meeting to go over our case in detail and get into what is happening.

We know the following

1) I have great ovarian reserve (lots of eggs) and my ovaries respond grandiosely to stimulation medication. Because of this we had over maturation problems with our first cycle.

2) While Stephen does have low sperm count his motility is ideal after his surgery (60%+) and the sperm DNA testing shows that he has average fragmentation so the quality of the DNA within the sperm is in order.

3) After collection my eggs have been graded by their visible health. On a scale of 1-10 they grade what they can see from the outside as far as egg health. 1 is ideal, and basically unattainable. 10 is horrendous and eggs they won’t work with. My eggs score 2-3 across the board. We couldn’t ask for better.

4) Despite all of the above working in our favor our fertilized eggs are incredibly weak and have sluggish development. Out of 21 fertilized eggs we got 3 morulas and 1 early stage blastocyst. This signals to egg quality issues more than likely.

So, where do we go from here?

Egg grading by visual cues is very subjective and not completely reliable. There are many factors that can’t be tested without a biopsy so while my eggs look great they can be weak or damaged on a genetic level.

Up to this stage we have done what is called an antagonist protocol.

We stimulate with FSH and LH and when far enough into the cycle we add in an additional medication. This medication is used to hold back my ovaries’ natural production of hormones to prevent premature ovulation.

This course allows my body to take part in the stimulation naturally and requires less medication. Because of this side effects like over stimulation and OHSS (ovarian hyper stimulation syndrome) are less likely, keeping me out of danger and out of the hospital.

What may happen here is with very active ovaries they may begin signaling the body to produce higher levels of LH earlier. LH being present at higher levels, or an earlier stage, may not only cause ovulation... it can also cause damage to the egg making it physically weaker and unable to create a healthy growth place for an embryo.

To test if this theory is accurate we will be doing a protagonist protocol (long Lupron protocol).

This means that I will be adding in an extra 2-3 weeks of daily injections, in the hopes of eliminating my natural hormone production.

Lupron works by eventually disabling the communication between my ovaries and my brain. During the entire IVF cycle my hormones will be completely controlled by injections and not at all by my natural reproductive system.

This would eliminate the risk of my body altering the ideal environment by reacting so violently to the medications.

The drawback here is that we will require much more medication to produce follicles since we have to replace the hormones missing from my body’s production. This type of administration increases the risk of over stimulation (like our first cycle) and makes me more susceptible to OHSS.

It’s scary, but it’s a risk we have to take.

It was explained to me that we have the science down - we have successfully made my body work and my husband’s. We now need to work on the finesse to make it work in the optimal manner.

This isn’t a medical diagnosis or concern that would have come up outside of using injectable medications. It’s simply that my ovaries are young and active, they’re impeding on the treatments.

While we hope that one more shot is all that we would need, we know that it may take more. Since the hormones will be completely artificial it may take lots of adjustments to find the amount that makes numerous follicles without creating too many, or maturing them too quickly.

We are going through a marathon, not a race.

We have transferred four embryos and none have stuck. The current thought is that they didn’t stick because they weren’t strong enough. Our embryos weren’t developing as they should and did not have the ability to mature enough to implant without being naturally destroyed.

If we can get healthy embryos we can begin to look at implantation, if they implant, and testing why if they don’t.

Finally, the weight problem has been put to bed.

After our last failed cycle the doctor really pushed for me to lose 50 pounds. It was a task that while I knew I could do, was daunting to imagine. Our second cycle came up quicker than anticipated in the end and she let that limit slide.

I brought it up again to confirm what I have to do. She’d like to see me down 15 pounds and doesn’t care about the rest. With two failed cycles using what they consider visually perfect eggs and naturally balanced hormone levels we have a complicated situation, and my weight isn’t the culprit.

The weight loss goal isn’t about fertility or eggs, it’s for peace of mind with pregnancy. As long as my health is good and I continue to show no symptoms of unrelated health conditions a large weight loss is not a part of our treatment plan any longer.

I am finally free of the blame and self doubt that a lifetime of being an overweight woman has ruined my chances at being a mother. It’s unrelated and will not be the key. I am not at fault.

[incognitoman1-2-3-4]

Empty Room - A K18 One-Shot

A/N: Hello! This is the latest story from my K18 series, “A Perfect Love.” Enjoy :) 

Legions of opaque dust particles graciously hovered around the empty room. Any traces of previous inhibition was certainly sparse. It was almost ghostly; a vacant space filled with countless memories

Marron discerned the conflict which had been wrestling restlessly from within her. Today should've been a joyous occasion; she, along with her family were finally ready to move into their own place. A place the Chestnuts could call their own.

They had all immediately fallen in love with the house; the interior design of the kitchen oozed with sophistication and class, as well as the living room, which possessed a spaciously intimate quality about it. The wide glass doors led to a picturesque garden, brimming with all kinds of blossoming flowers and plants.

All of the bedrooms were perfectly sized; no longer would they be forced to stumble into their rooms to get their beds. They even had a spare room, giving the family plenty of options on what they could add to the house. Krillin was adamant of turning the room into a home gym, despite Eighteen's stern objections. One thing they knew for certain, the house met all their wants and needs; it was simply perfect for them.

Consequently, as the day of moving into their new place rapidly gathered pace, Marron came closer to the unwanted reality that she would have to leave behind the place she had always known as her home.

As her eyes peered at the window, the walls of Marron's mind swiftly became invaded by the bittersweet memories of her and family playing together by the shore of Kame House. A small smirk appeared; how she would miss the hours spent in the scorching sun, drawing her pictures as she blissfully hummed along to the music being blared out of her parents' stereo. She looked away from the window in disappointment; those days were now wistfully coming to an end.

It didn't help that for the past several weeks, Marron had to endure the arduous labours of packing. Each day seemed to blur into the next; she had officially grown tired of being interrogated on a daily basis with questions such as, "Do you want to keep this or can we throw it away?"

And thanks to all of the chaos caused by the packing, she felt as if her voice wasn't being heard. Her parents, particularly her father, had become so involved with the move that any unrelated conversations she'd bring up would be overlooked. She knew they didn't do it on purpose, but it would have been nice to have spent some time together before they departed to live in the city.

Her train of thought suddenly halted at the sound of a familiar, yet chirpy voice being echoed from the entrance of the room, "Are you okay, Marron?"

"Oh! Hey, Dad." She responded, instantly recognising her father's voice, "What are you doing up here?"

"I noticed that you haven't been downstairs in a while and I wanted to see what you were doing." Krillin assuredly reported, meeting her at the centre of the room. Krillin gingerly knelt down to Marron's line of sight, acknowledging her attempts to disguise her sadness with silence.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He enquired with growing concern.

"Yeah! Of course!" Marron's answer failed to match up with the saddened glare which watered her eyes.

"Marron, I need you to be honest with me," Krillin stated with a comforting firmness, "Is there something you're not telling me?

"I-I don't know, Daddy." She began to explain, "I used to be really excited about the thought of us moving, especially since it would be just you, me and Mommy living together. But, lately, I've been thinking about just how much I'm gonna miss this living here and miss playing in this room. I also haven't really seen you that much because of all the packing. I guess I just want things to be normal again."

Krillin's eyes broadened at his daughter's confessions, "Oh, Marron. I had no idea just how much this move has been affecting you." He perceived with a sense of regret.

"It's okay, Daddy. I understand that you've been busy." Marron calmly reassured her father. However, he wasn't letting himself get off the hook so easily,

"No, it's not. I've been so caught up getting us ready for the move that I haven't given you the attention you've needed."

Krillin couldn't deny that he had been like a machine these past few weeks. He shook his head as the sound of his wife's previous warnings circled around his head. "You need to take a break," and, "Stop rushing so much," had become prevalent proverbs of her's. He knew the reason as to why he had been hurrying to complete the move,

"To be honest, Marron, I'm gonna miss living here too."

"Really?" Marron answered with a surprised timbre, "How so?"

"Well, for starters, Kame House has been my home for pretty much my whole life. Whenever I look down on the shore, I envision myself as a young boy, training with your uncle Goku. Day and night, we used to train under the guidance of Master Roshi, who has helped me so much over the course of my life. I mean, if it wasn't for this little place in the middle of nowhere, your mother and I wouldn't have gotten to know each other, fall in love, and receive the greatest gift in the whole world."

"What gift was it, Daddy?" Marron naively enquired. Krillin briefly paused to chuckle at his daughter's adorable ignorance, before proclaiming proudly,

"It's you, sweetie!"

An overwhelming tide of joy swept over Marron's heart. Her delight manifested itself in a stream of tears. Krillin gave his precious child a warming embrace, trying to hold back tears of his own. It wasn't easy for him to reveal how much Kame House had meant to him. He absolutely adored this place and everything it had provided to him.

They promptly broke apart from each other, rapidly erasing any evidence of sadness from their faces.

"So, what are you gonna miss about living here?" Krillin asked out of curiosity. Taking no time at all to think of her answers, Marron gleefully listed along with her fingers,

"I'm really gonna miss building my sandcastles, playing with Turtle, and watching Mommy beat up Master Roshi!"

Krillin couldn't help but let out a small burst of laughter; Marron could really come out with the most bizarrely innocent, yet truthful responses imaginable. Marron too joined in with the giggles, adding along to her list,

"I'm also gonna miss the view of the ocean from my bedroom, as well scaring Oolong in the dark!"

"Oh, I'm sure you will!" Krillin returned, fully aware of Oolong's distaste of Marron's cheeky pranks. He then arose from the floor and made his way over to the windowsill. As he gazed upon the vast horizon ahead of him, he developed an enthusiastic confidence. Marron followed her father, mimicking his peaceful expression as she stood on the tips of her toes.

"You know, Marron," Krillin gladly declared, "because of our little chat, I think I'm more excited for our future now than I was when we first bought our new house. Through our reminiscing, I'm finally prepared for all the new memories our family are gonna create together. It's gonna be awesome and I wouldn't wanna share with anyone other than you and your mother."

Krillin's newfound optimism naturally spread unto his daughter, "I'm excited too, Daddy." She hugged her father's left leg tightly; today had finally become the joyous occasion it should have been all along.

"Thank you." She sincerely added. Her father beamed down at her, giving her hair a little tussle before replying,

"No worries, my little firefly."

"There you are!" Another familiar voice announced with relief. Krillin and Marron turned around to find Eighteen standing by the bedroom door "I was wondering where you two had disappeared off to. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Momma!" Marron answered with her typical exuberance. She then made a run for it down the stairs; Marron was going to make sure she enjoyed her last few moments as a Kame House resident to the fullest. Her parents watched in bemusement as she vanished down the staircase.

"She seems much happier now." Eighteen remarked, scratching the top of her head.

"We actually had quite the heart-to-heart just now." Krillin returned with an affectionate smile. Eighteen gently closed the door behind her as she approached her husband standing by the windowsill. She keenly noticed the more relaxed demeanour her husband was displaying,

"I can see it do you some good." It certainly helped that she had slid her arms around his waist.

"Hmm. It did indeed." He confirmed contently as he willingly got lost in the unexpected kiss he found himself in. Sure, Krillin was certainly going to miss living in Kame House and he would always be grateful to what this place had done for him. But as he broke apart from his wife's tender lips and watched his daughter race around on the beach below, he couldn't wait to see what the future had in store for him and his family.

Eighteen took Krillin by his soft hand and led him to the bedroom door. She pushed the door open, guiding him away from the empty room. As Krillin looked back at the room behind, a satisfied sigh followed him out the door. His time in Kame House was finally over. With that, he silently closed the door, let go of the rusty handle, and walked away with a comforting thought; the best days were yet to come.

THE END

[c-e-c-e-r-o]

On Love's Tail, Part 15

The usually quiet wood is filled with the sound of shifting dirt, clacking rocks, and frenzied grunts of exertion. Sær digs furiously, using the remaining broken half of his sword. After so long underground, it's become rusted and brittle, snapping in half soon after Sær started digging. A large mound of earth lies next to him, rising as the sun lowers. Sweat pours off his face in rivulets, dropping down into the loose earth as he works.

He is close to unearthing the buried man, so, tossing his sword away, he begins to shift the soft dirt with his hands. The going is slow, and by the time the few beams of light that can be seen are shining straight down, he is only just unearthing the man's helm. With renewed strength, Sær picks up his broken sword, using it to scrape away the earth, revealing a tangle of pulsing roots. They shift and writhe upon being uncovered, and one with draws itself from the man's chest, lunging forth. Sær's eyes glint, and he lets it peirce his shoulder, wrapping his arm around it and heaving, ripping it out of the ground as it emits an eerie screech. The root falls to the floor in a spray of blood, writhing and wriggling before going still.

Sær sets to work, mercilessly grabbing and chopping the parasitic plants. In a cascade of earth, the knight tumbles from the dirt, gasping his first breath in an impossibly long time.

"HO HO!" The man belts out, causing Sær to jump back, startled. The knight stands on shaky legs, then clasps his shoulders. "My friend! I cannot express my gratitude sufficiently! For so long I was trapped in this ghastly wood..." He shudders. "I, Solaire of Astora, pledge my leal service to you!"

"That's alright," Sær says, put off by the man's boisterousness. Optimism is the last thing he wants; it feels like a crime for happiness to exist while Priscilla still sleeps. He disentangles himself from Solaire. "Truth be told, my reasons are selfish. I need aid."

Solaire chortles. "Whatever you ask of me, you shall have it. I am at your whims!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sun sets on the third day of Sær's awakening as the group gathers for supper. The company had grown exponentially quite quickly; dig up one person, and they dig up another, and the manpower is doubled. Within the few days since they first began, they had unearthed hundreds of trapped travelers, each with their own skills and an unrelenting eagerness to aid the man responsible for freeing them; Sær.

The group gathers around a small clearing, each eating while they chatter about their respective duties. Andre the blacksmith forges shovels and axes to aid in the rescue effort, Cale maps the forest as it's cleared, Rosabeth would light fires and burn paths with her pyromancy, and Vengarl educated the group on battle tactics and stories of old. Vengarl and Sær had become fast friends; Sær brazenly told him not to get 'a head' of himself, and that gave him the hardest laugh of his life. The entirety of the company would avoid mentioning the fact that he was naught but a head and helm, and he respected Sær for being so straightforward.

Vengarl takes a deep breath, free from the smell of earth, a scent he had to suffer for decades. The only company to be had in that miserable dirt was the occasional mole or burrowing snake; many an argument had ended with a hiss and a bite. He's happy just to talk to someone with thumbs.

"Not long now," Sær ponders beside him.

"'til we unearth your wife?"

"Not married just yet," he replies.

"If she is as fair as you claim, then you would do well to keep a close eye on her. To hear you speak, one would think that she is a veritable goddess."

"Well, she is half goddess."

"Truly?" Vengarl raises an eyebrow. "Big lass, is she?"

"You could say that. Tall, long fair hair, pristine white fur..." Sær sighs.

"White fur? Such opulence is only afforded to royalty."

"Her father's a Duke."

"A Duke?!" Vengarl's eyebrows raise even higher. "What dark sacrifice did you have to make to marry a goddess and a noble's daughter!? I call bull-shite. No man- Especially a lowly undead vagrant- could be so lucky."

"You would eat your words upon meeting her, if you had a stomach." Sær sighs, saddened by the thought of Priscilla in her earthen prison.

"Cease your incessant suspiring, Sigh-ær." Vengarl growls.

"So long as you cease your incessant barking, Ven-growl."

The two are silent, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the wood as the rescued company work to aid their savior.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

On the night of the first moon since Sær's awakening, the group gathers in a large clearing by Priscilla's tree. The company is five hundred strong now, with another hundred sent into the depths of the forest to rescue more unlucky souls.

The forest teems with light now, lanterns lining the bridges that run through the trees. Houses, kitchens, and even staircases have been carved into the massive trees, making massive, interconnected towers that are lit up like a starry sky. The dozen or so children that had been rescued run fearlessly along the bridges, swinging on vines and carving slides into the stairs.

Below, the pavillion is abuzz with chatter as axes and shovels are dispensed among the crowd. Solaire, sporting his typical flair for theatrics, climbs the carved steps overlooking the crowd.

"My friends! Before we begin, I bid thee all to rise your arms and praise the-" Several apples, two gauntlets and a book are promptly thrown, the apples hitting their mark and splattering against Solaire's tunic.

"Get on wif' it!"

"Stick your praise where your sun don't shine!"

"If you were my sun, you'd get a right wallopin'!"

Solaire sweeps the chunks of apple off of his shirt, used to their disdain of his obsession. "Yes, well... The time has come to free the lady Priscilla from her earthen prison! Take it a day or a year, we shall not rest until Master Sær's betrothed is free!"

A roar erupts from the crowd as they all hurry to grab their tools, eager to repay their savior. Solaire walks over to Sær, who had stood against the wall listening quietly. He claps his hand upon Sær's shoulder, only for it to emit a growl. "SUN ABOVE!" He jumps back in fright.

"Watch yourself, sun," Vengarl says, for indeed it is him. His helm (and head, for they are one) is fastened to Sær's left shoulder like a pauldron, glaring at Solaire through the mouth of his helm.

Solaire composes himself and turns to Sær. "You must be quite thrilled, eh? To see your lovely lady once again, after such a tragic parting! How romantic!" His arms swing in exaggerated motions. Sær cringes. "I cannot wait to meet her!"

"I, as well," Vengarl adds. "I have seen many things, but never a perfect woman, which she is, if you are to be believed."

Sær chuckles. "I think you two will be suprised, regardless..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A day into the rescue effort, and significant progress has been made. It is made slow going by the precautions taken so that Priscilla may not be harmed, however. holes must be carefully chisled to make sure it is safe to swing an axe, while the tunnels beneath have to be perfectly supported so as not to collapse the great tree. Sær had attempted to aid in the rescue, but could not bring himself to sink an axe into the tree, convinced it would hit Priscilla. Instead he would pace about the treetop villa, nearly wearing a hole in the floorboards.

On the eve of the second day, Sær is snapped out of his reverie by numerous shouts. Flying down the slide the children had carved, he jumps off and hits the ground running. As he approaches the tree, he sees it. A tuft of white fur.

With a yell and a teary smile, he snatches up a chisel and starts furiously chipping the wood away, wood flying. The rest of the villagers join him, careful to leave support for the tree. Soon, the forest floor is littered with wood shavings, and Priscilla tumbles out of the great tree. Sær quickly hacks at the writhing roots as the rest of the company stare in stunned silence. They all gather around the giant beauty, bewitched.

Priscilla's tail twitches and her eyes slowly open. Her slit pupils dilate, exposed to light for the first time in decades. Sær gently stokes the thin fur on her cheek. "Priscilla? Darling? Can you hear me?"

"Mmmmh... Tired..." She wraps her arms around him, nuzzling his chest. Vengarl lets out a suprised shout and Priscilla flings Sær away, scuttling back against the tree, now wide awake. "Wh-what is that monstrous growth upon your shoulder?!"

"I'm monstrous?!" Vengarl says incredulously. He drops his voice to an angry whisper, muttering to Sær. "You failed to mention that your fiancé is thrice your size," he hisses. "A little warning might have been useful!"

"Two and a half times my size," Sær corrects him. "Isn't she great?!" He beams.

Vengarl would shake his head in disbelief, if he could. And they say I have lost my head.

Once the village recovers from their initial shock, They quickly take to Priscilla like wrinkles on a hollow. They watch on in awe an no small amount of embarrassment as the two lovers cuddle, feeding each other. It takes some getting used to; it's difficult for the men to fathom having such a large partner. It becomes a strange fascination to the village, and Sær and Priscilla quickly gain celebrity status due to their pairing and Sær's rescue of most everyone there.

Priscilla isn't coping to well. This is the first time in her life she has had to interact, or even be around a group. Sær has to shoo away the crowds at least twice a day while Priscilla cowers adorably behind her tail.

"Darling." Priscilla speaks softly to him on the last day of their first week together again. She lays on a large pillow, sewn by a team of seamstresses and filled with down feathers by a team of hunters. They lay warm and comfortable inside the great tree, it's now-hollowed trunk serving as a luxurious tower for the two. The walls are covered in ornate carvings, courtesy of admiring sculptors in the village. The pair had become de facto royalty, if only in name. Grateful villagers would come bearing gifts at all times of day, and they scarcely had room to store them.

"Hm?" Sær hums.

"When shall we continue our quest?" I understand the need to rest after this ordeal, but my aunt- I mean, uncle Gwyndolin will be even weaker now. After so much time trapped, we can't afford to be as lazy as you are." She pokes his forehead admonishingly. "I begin to grow worried about my future husband's idleness. I won't be shouldered with all the housework will you sleep," she says, vigorously poking his head.

Sær winces, burrowing into her chest to evade her assault. "As soon as the scouts return," he yawns. "Your mother said we can't have help, but a little information doesn't count, right?"

"I won't tell if you won't."

Said information was not long off. The next morning, the two are visited by a courier hauling a comically large scroll, so made so Priscilla can read it. She scans it as Sær stretches, still groggy. "Darling, about the artifact we need to obtain..."

"The sword?"

"Yes. The wolf gaurding it-"

"Are you really that worried about one wolf? Art thou turning craven, milady? One kick and he'll be sent across the-"

Priscilla reaches out a hand and clamps his jaw shut. "The wolf's name is Sif, the very same wolf from the legends. One he may be, but that poses a problem when he is as big as me." Sær's eyes widen.

"Oh," she says, releasing his jaw. "And he doesn't guard the sword. He uses it." She smirks. "But since I am a craven, I shall leave him to you."

[fancymuffinparty]

Allies

Rating: T

Pairing: Eren Jaeger/Annie Leonhart

Summary: For Day Three of Ereannie Week 2018! Option A: War. Canonverse. Angst. Post-Crystal Breach. (Which better happen soon!)

She’s made the world her enemy. He’s been deemed the enemy of the world. Though they may have separate causes, they’re left with a sensible solution. The past may unite them, but Eren has already envisioned a future.

Word Count: 1334

A/N: My first contribution is finished! :O Phew! I just want these two to interact again! Nicely, of course! lol

He’s not fifteen anymore.

He’s not the same lovelorn boy who had begged her to come down the stairs into the underground, pleading with her to prove she wasn’t a traitor. Perhaps he’d been blinded by denial then, or maybe what Mikasa had insinuated was true.

He had special feelings for Annie Leonhart.

But Eren Jaeger has long since abandoned his juvenile crush.

And now, as he levels his gaze to the prisoner in the dilapidated cell before him, he wonders if she means anything to him at all.

His memories may be clouded by those of the previous holders of his power, but it’s nearly impossible to forget what she had taught him.

It was Annie who trained him in her unique fighting style, ultimately aiding in his many encounters with various foes.

Her included.

It was Annie who pointed out the flaws and contradictions within the military; something he felt foolish for not having come to realize himself.

Yet she went right along with it, played the system, and joined the MPs.

And finally, it was through Annie’s betrayal that he learned the world truly was a cruel place, forcing him to accept the horrifying truth and battle her in Stohess.

The opportunity to end it all couldn’t have been more advantageous. Annie’s titan had been subjugated, her human form made vulnerable and easy for consumption.

But Eren stopped himself from fulfilling the act. The sight of her had him frozen in an instant, as if to remind him he wasn’t fighting a monster.

It was Annie.  

It had been her all along.

He thinks if he could go back in time, he wouldn’t have held back.

But he’s lying to himself if he genuinely believes that.

His thoughts are interrupted when the prisoner tilts her head up and looks in his direction, eyes blinking emptily.

Eren’s not here to plead with her. He vows never to revert to his naïve ways; to never allow himself to be fooled again.

Rather, he’s here to extend a proposition. He reasons with himself that he’d prefer to have as many allies as possible in the war to come with Marley. The war to come with the world.

That’s all. That’s all Annie Leonhart is at this point.

A potential asset for their military.

“It’s just me,” Eren says after Annie peers suspiciously around, as though wary of others nearby. “For now.”

Annie stays seated in an old wooden chair, chains bound to her hands and feet. There’s enough slack for her to walk up and speak to him from the cell’s bars, but she opts to remain right where she’s at, unsure what to expect.

She skips the formalities completely.

“Why am I being kept alive?” she asks. She’s killed enough of their soldiers, therefore certain her breach from the crystal would have resulted in immediate execution. When it didn’t, however, she could only assume her death was an eventuality- but why the delay?

Eren’s blood turns cold.

Four years. It’s been four years since they’d last spoken, and this is how their little reunion is unfolding.

Heartwarming.

“Annie,” Eren finally says, voice clear and concise. “Join me.”

It’s not a question, nor a plea. It’s a command, and a firm one at that.

Annie narrows her gaze. “You? As in the Survey Corps?” As in Paradis?

Eren shakes his head slowly. “Any efforts to make amends with the SC would be futile,” he explains. “But you haven’t exhausted all of your options.”

“Options? For what?” Annie tries but fails to follow his proposition.

“We can still be allies,” comes his answer, resolute and determined. “You and I.”

The preposterous notion is what convinces Annie to rise from her seat and approach the bars of her cell, the sounds of harsh clacking from her chains following behind her.

She stares at him in disbelief. The silent anger molded on her face indicates she needs further justification.

“You…” she trails off, fingers curling around the bars. “And… me?”

Eren nods, stepping forward to meet her. “We have a common enemy. A common goal,” he tells her in a manner far different than the boy she remembers.

Young Eren would never have been this calm, this patient, this willing.

Annie wonders how much information they’ve gathered about Marley and the outside world. How much do they know regarding her true origins? Her upbringing? Her past?

More than she’d anticipated, it seems.

“You’ve made the world your enemy,” Eren says as he approaches her. “And I’ve been made the enemy of the world.”

Annie’s mind flashes to her father, utterly staggering her. Her mouth is agape and her icy blues widen in shock.

“We have more reason to unite as allies, than to fight as rivals,” Eren insists.

He looks so different… Annie thinks in silent observation. But he’s still Eren.

He’s someone she can trust- if not the only person she can trust.

It has to be so; otherwise she wouldn’t even be in this place.

Nor would he have bothered to speak with her in private.

There’s no doubt in her mind the SC is incapable of forgiving her for her actions. More than likely, Eren was the one who orchestrated this meeting. But was it solely for the purpose of getting her on their side? Or his side, as he puts it?

Annie tests the turbulent waters, diving head first into the storm. “How do I know the SC won’t have me executed as soon as I’m released?” The concern is hardly evident in her tone. She won’t get her hopes up- not that optimism was ever a part of her cold and aloof personality.

Eren maintains his firm demeanor, unyielding in his intentions. “That won’t happen,” he asserts, voice low and rough. “Because I won’t let it happen.”  

He might not be the same lovelorn, hopelessly naïve boy from all those years ago.

But he’s not fooling anyone.

The admiration, the respect, the personal sentiments he’s had for her have never wavered.

Or else she’d be dead.

Eren waits for her response, fully prepared for either outcome.

But she stuns him with a question of her own.

“Before I answer,” Annie begins, “I just need to know one thing.”

Eren nods, granting her permission.

“Back in Stohess…” She pauses, mulling over the last clear memory she has prior to waking up. “Why didn’t you end it? What stopped you from…” She shakes her head. “You hesitated, and gave me an out. Why?”

The subject would’ve been brought up eventually. Luckily, this conversation was exclusive to them, devoid of any eavesdroppers.

Yet Eren had to spare her the truth.

Why? he thinks. Because I was foolish.

Because he loved her.

After a few beats of silence, he’s finally procured a way to articulate an elusive reply.

“Because I saw you,” he says, averting his eyes. “And I was reminded that it was you all along.”

Annie’s conflicted state dissolves upon hearing his answer. Her hands slightly tremble.

“You’re not my enemy, Annie. You never were.”

And that is the unrelenting truth.

Silence intervenes once again, but when it’s broken shortly after, it ultimately cements what Eren has believed from the beginning.

“Then… we’re allies,” Annie says in agreement, thinking on the promise she made to her father. Accepting this offer would be the only way to get back to him- and she’d be doing so of her own volition.

In spite of himself, Eren half-smiles. There’s so much she has yet to learn; four years’ worth of catching up to do.

But the hard part has effectively been dealt with.

More importantly, she’s back- and she’s on his side. Nothing else matters in this brief moment of reprieve.

“You and me…” Eren repeats, remembering how he felt looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs four years earlier in contrast to now. It’s all come to this...

“Against the world.”

[rosethornewrites]

Tuesday & Wednesday NR, E, & M reading

The usual

Finished

Mature:

Sunlight wrapped in your arms, by luckymoonly (8 chapters)

The train was still moving fast, making Wei Wuxian wobble slightly. He grabbed a seat just to be sure that he was not going to fall or knock himself over the head, when as he neared the doll, he saw the black hoodie in which it was wrapped move.

Or: WWX finds a baby on the train to Gusu.

Unfinished

Not Rated:

The Kids Are Okay (I Think), by GossamerGlint

Wei Ying, in a twist of fate, finds himself on the streets once more, betrayed by cultivators

Meng Yao's mother dies early, betrayed by cultivators.

Xue Yang loses his finger with his optimism, betrayed by cultivators.

Yet none of them will be left alone, if this mysterious ghost with an equally hazy past has anything to say about it. And so what if these boys are her distant grandchildren? She'll adopt them all the same! Now... if only they wouldn't get into any trouble because of their inheritance...

Explicit:

the woods are lovely, dark and deep, by sassybluee

Lan Wangji’s gaze is too piercing, too openly intrigued. Bright, unrelenting—Wei Wuxian almost feels shy to be under it, which is a strange feeling for him. Not even Wen Qing’s most scrupulous gaze can shake him.

But then again, she has never looked at him quite like this.

Mature:

(Un)Hidden truth, by Sarah_R

After watching his husband; his son; nephew; brother and little radishes dying in front of him one by one because of a source of resentful energy; Wei WuXian dies too as he destroys it.

But instead of darkness; he finds himself back in the past when he had just gotten kicked out of the cloud recess and everything looks so peaceful he can’t stand it. No…no no no he really can’t go through this hell again. Not again. Not after everything was supposed to be over.

Not knowing that Lan WangJi has been thrown back in time as well; he tries; and fails at taking his own life by slitting his throat open in the middle of lotus pier and so; he decides to show everyone the future. If he’s going to live this hell again; he’s going to change it and if these people are suddenly so determined to keep him alive; then he’s not going to let them die either.

It doesn’t matter if they end up hating him just as much as he hates himself.

(Or; another time travel fix-it which happens to be a watching the show fic as well! With our favorite baby boy and his husband; all their ducklings and their very much alive family and friends from the past.)