#how you need sunlight to grow and change but you can't do so without rest without a safe place to grow from

[black-rose-writings]

Also, the contrast against the royal family's servants who wear white with gold accents.

The Grand Palace is gaudy, in colors that need to be constantly maintained to keep their shine, staff included.

The Little Palace is more earthly, more natural - the walls paneled in carved wood or painted with natural motifs, ceilings painted to resemble the night sky, and even the more gaudy parts have a rough finish to them.

The Grand Palace servants are meant to blend in with the perfect white furniture, with the unnatural and fake, but forcibly maintained spotless image.

The Little Palace staff are meant to blend in with the shadows.

LB put so much visual and other symbolism into the books and then did jack shit with it (and the show shat on it all).

Remember oprichniki- the Darkling's ignored otkazat'sya guard?

They're wearing charcoal corecloth uniforms.

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 3

Why is that interesting?

A beauty, isn't she?

Wiki describes the colour as "dark grayish blue". Wanna make it even more simple? What is grey?

Variations of gray or grey include achromatic grayscale shades, which lie exactly between white and black, and nearby colors with low colorfulness.

So charcoal is basically a light black with a bit of (Summoners') blue. (I'm not sure how intentional was that, but it's rather poetic, isn't it?)

The Darkling gave the normies constantly tailing him slightly lighter shade of his own colour on coats made of one of Grisha's treasured inventions.

And that's not all. You know, who else got the same (likely minus the corecloth part)?

The Little Palace staff!

Shadow and Bone- Chapter 5

Ordinary maids and cooks and grooms, all the little people he's not supposed to see wear a colour a few shades from his own in the world that's carefully colour-coded.

[headspace-hotel]

a friend of mine said that the environment would be better if everyone lived in cities and basically left the rest of the natural world alone... i felt like there was something wrong with that argument but i really dont know enough about it to have a real point against it. i might be biased though cause i love being around nature and want to be able to live rural without killing the environment? idk im just wondering if she's right and how to live in a way that isnt negatively impacting the world

love your blog btw, it's been the thing that's helped me understand ecology for once

the idea that humans Are Bad for the ecosystem—not that particular activities or practices have particular negative effects, that just humans existing harms the environment—is in fact the worst idea ever

I mean, first of all, where does your friend think food comes from?

"Food" is one of the problems. It's one of a lot of problems. Some other problems include "all other natural resources besides food" and "human rights."

It's not just your friend, this kind of thing has been suggested in varying ways by self identified "leftists" a bunch of times, and I genuinely hope they're mostly random laypeople who can't really be expected to know more than they can learn from being terminally addicted to Twitter, because otherwise I will call them "dumber than a sack of hammers" in those exact words.

No offense to your friend. Your friend is a laypeople. And sadly, non-experts end up with ass-backwards ideas about how conserving the environment works, because of all this commonplace nonsense about humans being a cancer upon the planet. I'm not angry about those people, just sad.

But my serious answer is—The world's most intact and best managed ecosystems are found on land owned and managed by Indigenous people, who do what with the land?

LIVE ON IT.

And these groups of people learned to manage and care for the land how?

BY LIVING ON IT.

Conventional (white, Western) intuition holds that human management of an ecosystem should reduce biodiversity, but what science shows—I mean what study and observation and data and more study and more observation and more data shows—is that indigenous land management practices can do better than Nature can on her own.

I mean, for one thing, if you don't live in a place, you don't observe it every day. You don't see how the ecosystem and its inhabitants change over time. You can't learn about it, and therefore you don't know about it.

Disconnection from nature is ignorance about nature and ultimately apathy towards nature, and that's the worst and most disrespectful thing we can do.

And like I hope it's clear that even in the imaginary scenario where everyone lives in a city, even if this was possible (it's not), the city dwellers who are separate from nature are living a silly little lie. You're part of the ecosystem. Don't like it? Go become a rock in space.

The electrical signals moving through your brain right now are rays of sunlight that were soaked up by a plant that grew in dirt. Do you know fruit? Do you enjoy fruit? I enjoy fruit, I'm drinking a smoothie right now! That fruit y'all love so much was pollinated by a bug.

A bug did that for you! Because you're family! Because you're part of this world, because you belong to this intricate and ancient community of living things that need each other, that were shaped by evolution to need each other, and nature cannot abandon you.

But more on the cynical side of things, even if you don't know where the hell a berry grows or how, someone has to grow and harvest and ship that berry to you, someone who has to live somewhere, and you should care who is doing it and how they're being treated and paid, and ultimately you should want for them the same things you want for you.

Urban life is just rural life with extra steps my friend.

Like, @ all the "put everybody in cities" crowd, what is the plan here? Fancy ass indoor aquaponics systems notwithstanding, we're not technologically at a point where we can just, like, build giant multi-story factory buildings where we grow food under special lamps, and even being at that point wouldn't make it a good idea. With all the hype about solar power, you'd think people would look at plants (have been using solar power just fine for like a billion years) and think, "Neat how those things can just make food when you stick 'em in the sunshine."

I'm sorry, I'm never going to be psyched about technological innovations that are like "We took a plant and put it inside."

There is so much I could say here. The brainrot in the wake of "cottagecore" discourse where a bunch of well meaning white people got convinced that farming was racist. The idea that rural people are somehow more complicit in colonialism than urban people, and that rural land is, I don't know, landier than urban land, and the correct and moral thing to do if you live on stolen land is to....what? Live on land that has a protective layer of concrete in between it and your racist feet?

Land ownership is a whole fucked up beast, but you're not cultivating a non-exploitative relationship with land by living in a city. There's just extra steps in between you and the land.

"Homesteading" as seen on cottagecore boards on Pinterest has a lot of white supremacist wet dream mixed in, but listen: It is not only okay, but GOOD, to want to live in close relationship with the land, with the food you eat, with the trees and plants that fill your lungs when you inhale. It's IMPORTANT. It's VITAL.

What has to change is that this relationship can't be based on ownership and dominance. Ecosystem is community and that ain't it.

My ancestors were colonizers, the land I live on right now was violently stolen, the ecosystem that once was very carefully managed so that it flourished with life was ravaged, and I don't even know the names of most of the life-forms that ought to be here. What now?

You belong to the ecosystem that takes care of you. You can't wash your hands of this and run away.

I feel like I'm getting off topic, but it's very much on topic actually. What I hope for the future is that we would stop entertaining the silly little lies that imagine we can just...opt out of participation in something that is underneath our every footstep and in our every breath. It would make us feel pure, but it wouldn't be real.

I do think that forcing people off the land that is their home is bad, in general. I don't think those people have to be indigenous for this to be bad—and successfully claiming otherwise is a bit of conundrum, since as far as I know, the political and social phenomenon of indigenous identity has a lot to do with the being forced off your land thing.

Obviously people like me don't have the same deeply central cultural relationship to the land, but the "we should all just go live in cities and leave nature to itself" proposal implies that such relationships are unnecessary or even bad.

I've said this before but I find it weird when environmentalists accommodate indigenous ways of life in their visions of the ideal future as like...a special exception granted because it's like, the nice thing to do for a historically marginalized and violently oppressed group. Not because there is value or merit in those ways of life. Like "Oh I guess indigenous people should be allowed to hunt because it's part of their culture" ????? And it's part of their culture because...why?

Maybe because it's a sustainable way of doing things and has been for millennia???

Like don't listen to me, look at the research, indigenous folks participating in ecosystems and managing them worldwide know what they're doing and the rest of the world should be looking to them as examples. Key word here is participating, because you can't competently manage an ecosystem with your head all the way up your ass with the idea that you're somehow not part of it.

Humans aren't a cancer upon the planet. It's capitalism and colonialism. It's the practice of seeing the world as a disposable resource to be exploited.

Humans lived in the place I called home for 15,000 years. Within the past 200 years, almost every forest was razed to the ground, and almost every large animal extirpated or damn near to it.

"Humans" did that! These humans are so terrible!

But I have to remember.

There are descriptions of this place from before that, and they describe a lush, teeming heaven-like paradise that the adjectives provided by English trembled to capture, so perfect and bountiful that the observers assumed this land was never tainted by Adam's sin.

Humans did that, too.

[cosmica-galaxy]

what if the reader was slowly dying? kind of like she's been out in the snow so long her body can't handle it for that long, it kinda makes sense in my head, because the lack of sun and the change of environment can really impact a person, and it kind of only leaves two options , or the reader leaves or she stays and ends up dying… I would like the 4 main ones with Tricky Auditor and Phobos

your writing is very good, have these chips

(•w•)>🍟

Hank:

Hank doesn't really take the news well of how the Player is slowly deteriorating while staying in Nevada. How is this even possible? It makes no sense! You were a god, a little lack of sunlight shouldn't be affecting you this badly!

On one hand, Hank would never like to see his Player suffer. On the other hand, he would have to say goodbye to his Player. He is a selfish person, but would he really put his own desires over his Player's life?

Of course not. If you need to return to your world to save your own life, Hank would tear through any enemy to get you there. Come hell or high water.

Deimos:

Deimos is as equally as heartbroken as Hank when he gets the news that you're not faring too well in Nevada. You're starting to become more and more sickly as time goes on. But if you needed to return to your world in order to not DIE? Deimos would do anything to get you there.

He may love you and wants you to stay just like all of the others, but if your life's on the line, then it isn't worth it. He will do anything to get you to return home.

Sanford:

Sanford was the first mercenary of SQ to actually take notice of the Player's deterioration and was even the one that sent them to Doc. Upon getting the news from Doc that the Player WAS slowly dying while being in Nevada, Sanford was heartbroken like the rest. That would mean that they would have to say goodbye...and soon.

Sanford is the only one that seems to have a concern for his fellow crewmates, especially his Player, so if their new mission is to get the Player back home alive, he'll do so. No questions asked.

You're just that important to him.

Doc:

Doc was almost shocked when Sanford brought in the Player in their weakened state. The medical procedures he worked through almost seemed to confirm his worries as the Player's health was slowly ticking down into a worse direction. His medicine and treatments did very little to curb the ailments and upon further inspection of their condition, he discovered that nothing he could give could help.

This was Nevada's doing and the state that it was in could not support the Player's existence. The world just didn't have the necessary resources. In response to this, Doc changes up the mission objectives and makes it the primary goal to get the Player back to safety.

Nevada would be doomed without them if they all should fail.

Tricky:

Tricky takes notice that something was off with his Player when they wouldn't have the energy to move or talk like they normally would. It caused the clown to try and make them feel better through various means and all of them were simply ineffective. The Player would fade more and more and Tricky would grow restless and desperate enough to seek out his enemy to get some answers from someone more...medically inclined.

One visit to Doc later, and Tricky is slammed with the news that the Player was starting to fade due to Nevada's condition. The clown found it difficult to reason with himself about the situation, but would eventually make up his mind about putting his Player first.

Even if he had to team up with his enemies, he wants the Player to live. He can't play with them if they die, now can he?

Auditor:

The Auditor would turn on himself and degrade his lack of foresight to such an incident coming to pass as the Player slowly fades, despite the employers doing their best to care for them. They just simply kept going downhill and once the Auditor found out why, he wanted to slap himself. Nevada was simply not made for higher beings like his Player. The land was tainted and sickly, and it was starting to reflect in the Player's well being.

The machine that was used to bring the Player here was still intact and the Auditor decided to expand on the project to make it more of a gateway so that the Player may have a safe place to retreat to, but can come and go at any time.

It was a small price to pay in his eyes. He would rather not lose them to something if he can help it. He doesn't care how much it would cost his organization. He would fund it for their sake.

Phobos:

Phobos was appalled at the news that his GOD has become weak. He sought answers, to find who was to blame for this poisoning, but much to his surprise was that the culprit itself...was Nevada. The director could only stare out the windows as it rains in Nexus City, contemplating how the sins of the world have deteriorated his precious Player's health. They were falling ill because this world was far too corrupt. How incompetent could he be?! Why didn't he realize this earlier?!? He would stab himself if he could, but no. He needs to act now.

The next orders he files out to his scientists and underlings is a way to breach 'beyond the heavens' and return the Player to their normal realm. Away from the sins of Nevada that make them so sick. Away from the pain and anguish that seep into their body from the environment that Nevada radiates.

He would cure his god and go farther than any employer has gone before. He would walk into the realm of his Player's domain and would cure them of their illness himself.

It is in his very right as their acolyte to do so.

Failure is not an option.

[leviiackrman]

OCS AS TRAGIC HORROR TROPES;

I was tagged by all these beloveds: @jendoe @chuckhansen @shellibisshe @denerims @jackiesarch @florbelles @dihardys @kingsroad + @unholymilf to use this uquiz for some of my crazy kids - thank you all sm, love ya all🤍

Tagging: @simonxriley @queennymeria @risingsh0t @arklay @indorilnerevarine @marivenah @shadowglens @prometheas @aedvcan @liurnia @sstewyhosseini @confidentandgood @duffmckagans @jennystahl @noonfaerie @thomrainer @multiverse-of-themind + @malefiicarum

THE VAMPIRE;

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

THAT WHICH CANNOT BE KNOWN;

oh god. how did it come to this? to some extent, you've gone so far past your own idea of "human" that it must be kind of fun, right? maybe. i'm not sure. as an artefact of cosmic horror, you're wild and wacky and colourful and people are probably drawn to that, but you will never let them know you. the mystery intrigues for a while, but it'll wear everyone down. it'll wear you down, too. who are you? do you remember? are you so far gone that you can't go back? and maybe that's the most tragic thing of all- becoming so distorted in your identity, and for so long, that no matter how hard you want to return you can't ever seem to figure it out. but you've learned a vast amount up in the stars, and people will work hard to get to know you. it doesn't matter who you used to be. sometimes, you should just start from scratch: give yourself a name, a birthday. let someone celebrate these things with you

THE FINAL GIRL;

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive- or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises as bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest

THE WITCH;

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocence. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all- you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind

THE ONE WHO OPENED THE DOOR;

you turn the door handle. you call out, "who's there?" and the crowd has the audacity to groan, to get frustrated with you. as if the gift of hindsight was something you had. how the hell were you supposed to know you were born into a horror movie? no one bothered to tell you. say, if instead this was an action film, or a fantasy, would they still be telling you how silly of a mistake it was to press further on your quest? they would've commended you for your bravery. you thought you were going to be saving a princess in a tower, not getting stabbed in the back by a killer in the shadows. how is that fair? it isn't, and none of that was ever your fault. it is not wrong to believe things are good. your trust, your optimism, it shouldn't ever be mistaken for ignorance or stupidity. we need more people who open doors. how else are any of us gonna move forward?

[arklay]

tagged by @florbelles @denerims @jillvalcntines @jendoe @leviiackrman @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @swordcoasts @nuclearstorms & @morvaris to do this quiz for some of my ocs, so have the horror girlies – thank you all so so much ily guys! ♡

tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @cultistbase @faarkas @girlbosselrond @lightwardens @liurnia @narshadda @nocticulas @prometheas @reaperkiller @risingsh0t @shadowsofrose @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @voerman & you! if you've already done this, my bad, just ignore me. but as always, no pressure to do this, of course! ♡

TRAGIC HORROR TROPES.

— the final girl.

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive – or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises and bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.

— the witch.

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocent. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all – you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

— the vampire.

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

— the mummy.

here's the thing about mummies – why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you – the real hero – getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repaid for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

[thenerdytomboy]

Lotus facts cause now he's back with a vengeance-

-Lotus is generally very anti-social. He's not a huge fan of people and he's easily annoyed by loud and/obnoxious people, this often leads to him being cooped up in the medbay so he doesn't have to deal with the others tomfuckery

-That being said, if you do manage to get him to like you, you're pretty much guaranteed to have a better time getting healed than anyone else.

-I follow the headcanon that the Namekian race evolved to rely mostly on water and sunlight after the Climate disaster, however since Lotus was conceived prior to the event he is not like that. He needs to eat and drink like most other alien species, and lacks the ability to turn sunlight into energy. Even if he could do that, he'd suck at it. Cause he's pink.

- Lotus is pink with green armor patches due to a rare genetic mutation, he's essentially a "shiny" Namekian. Literally the same as the rest, just with swapped color palette.

-His ki potential and strong healing abilities have nothing to do with the mutation, he just came from a long line of healers(Predestined medic basically hfdhesgas)

-I doubt the Frieza force has good food, probably has like those MRE type of meals, so as a result of growing up on those Lotus has no idea what good food tastes like

- He's a slut for chocolate and fresh fruit though

-His glasses are actually mostly for reading, he can see mostly fine without them

-He can't use ki attacks or fly, as he was never taught. Ever since he could heal others he's been kept in medbays or Base camps, he's never seen actual combat before

-He has no idea what Frieza looks like, never met the guy, despite being on the same ship as him one or two times

-He absolutely despises Zarbon

-He thinks the Ginyu Force is entertaining, likes a certain white-haired member a bit more than the others

-He has trouble saying how he feels about others, often getting defensive or changing topics if it's brought up in any sense

- Caffeine addict

- HUGE caffeine addict

- He's always irritable because he doesn't sleep much, just drinks coffee

- Someone help this man before he gives himself a caffeine overdose

[vanbredevoort]

for viilgefortz.

It happened in the span of a few months. Far too quickly.

First there was lust.

It creeps up her legs, spreads from her chest, invades her head, shakes her to her very core like vines wrapping around senses she does not know can be stimulated.

She toys with the idea of suggesting he can have her against the surface of every piece of furniture available whenever he wants. She doesn't, but she likes thinking about it. It's entertaining. Her eyes follow the way his hand fidget - he has nervous hands - and she wants to know how they would feel like on her.

She does not say anything. She's his assistant. Saying something might change a dynamic that, from a professional perspective, it's already working flawlessly. He might find it counterproductive, for her to harbor those needs, and let her go. She doesn't want that. Standing near him, watching him and listening to him feels good. Like sunlight after a cloudy day.

Second, there was denial.

It comes quicker than she would have wanted it to. She did not think there was room for something else than the crushing attraction--- but suddenly there's longing. There's worrying. She wants to be ravaged, but she also wants to stroke his forehead until he stops frowning when he's overthinking. Now she wants to hold his hands steady. He has nervous hands, and she wants to take the worries away.

He's handsome. He's idealistic. He's a man of principle. He's tall. He has simple goals and complex thoughts about how to achieve them. He has a sweet tooth. He's curious above anything else.

She's frightened about it. She wants to know more. But she doesn't. But she does.

She doesn't want to think about it. It plagues her mind and keeps her from peak performance, so she beds as many as she can. Old acquaintances. Colleagues at an investigation. Strangers. She has never been one to do so, but she thinks it will give her mind clarity. It doesn't. She pants and her nails dig into the wood of another's bedpost, and she's thinking of him. And it feels wrong. Right. Wrong.

Third, there was panic.

It lasts for a short while, but she decides since she can't get him off her mind, she might as well run away. She does not neglect her duties to him, but she stays for longer periods in excavations that are almost wrapped up. She plainly disappears for a whole week under pretense.

She's sure that distance will make her see things clearly and get rid of the ever growing feeling inside her heart, one she doesn't want to name yet.

She has been staring at the sun directly for too long. But everything is dark when he's not there.

She cries. She misses his smile. She cries more. She misses the way he says her name. She clutches her chest with her hand because it hurts. Because running away is stupid--- she cannot be without him. She cannot be without him. She cannot BE without him.

And finally, with fourth came acceptance.

Because she is irrevocably, madly, desperately, stubbornly, relentlessly in love with Vilgefortz.

Helplessly too. She knows no one can say she has not tried to fight it. It all breaks when they're locked inside going through countless tomes and notes. It's not a grand gesture, not a soul clenching revelation moment with dramatic effects. It's silence and heartbeats. It's the product of everything she has experienced. She cannot deny it. She cannot hide from it. She loves him deeply, and that IS grand, soul clenching and bigger than anything she had experienced before.

He says something she doesn't hear because she's lost. Because there's no fighting it anymore. She just nods. That nod means everything, and it's a promise of always. Of never. I will always love you, she thinks. And I'll be helpless to stop it.

I'll always be yours and I'll never be claimed.

It's bigger than herself. It's beyond her reach. It's tormenting and beautiful. It's as close as his nervous hands, and as far as her ability to put them to rest.

She loves Vilgefortz. She loves Vilgefortz with a strength that no love poem can define, no painting can depict because there aren't enough colors in the spectrum of light to express the depths of her feelings. She loves so much that she puts romance plays to shame. She loves so passionately that her very soul dances to the rhythm of his heartbeat. She loves so deeply that his name carves into her very core and nothing, no one can occupy that place. She loves with jealousy, she loves with lust, she loves with worry, she loves with need. She loves enough to see from afar, don't meddle, don't talk, don't show, don't react, and she loves enough to suffer because of it. She loves enough to understand that he does not and can't love her back.

She loves enough to die for him. So she does.

[whentranslatorscry]

Hitagi Honeymoon

022

"I understand every detail, Araragi-senpai. You don't need to say anything else, and you don't need to worry about anything. All your worries rest on my shoulders now. I swear on the name of Tokugawa Ieyasu that I will find Shinobu-chan. So please, Araragi-senpai, continue on your way to Senjougahara with Araragi-senpai."

"But, Kanbaru..."

"In all honesty, I implore you not to abandon your honeymoon here. Of course, if there was an imminent danger to Shinobu-chan's life, there would be no room for choice— but that is not the case. If you still insist on leaving your bride to search for Shinobu-chan, then you may as well shoot me dead."

I didn't have a gun on me.

Nor should an ordinary guy like me even possess such a thing.

"We aren’t some high school kids skipping school to search for her anymore. It's time to grow up."

You’re one to talk.

Still a student yourself. 

But she was right. Much has changed since the time when I ran around town trying to find Shinobu as she was on her journey of self-discovery. Now, I find myself lost in an unfamiliar land without even a sense of direction.

Wandering aimlessly could make me the one who's lost.

And the god of lost children was far, far away.

"Besides, if I am granted Araragi-senpai’s permission to move on my own, I have a method that could drastically improve the chances of finding her compared to if you were to search for her yourself. Please understand that I don't say this out of any desire to prioritize Araragi-senpai. I know how important Shinobu is to you, Araragi-senpai. That's why, in this instance, you should leave it all to me."

I couldn’t keep track of whether she meant Hitagi or me, but... it seems she had a way?

I thought it made sense that I should be the one most attuned to finding Shinobu, given our spiritual bond and master-servant relationship. But I couldn't find her on my own back in high school. To my frustration, I had to wait for her to come out of hiding on her own accord.

In the first place, it was rather irregular for Shinobu to break free from my shadow... Maybe it hadn't been wise to let her drink a considerable amount of blood before inspecting the stone.

That might have temporarily allowed her independent action.

Metaphors about parent and child didn’t seem appropriate anymore… But maybe like a Bluetooth smartwatch?

Even so, it was still daytime… Ahh, I see.

The heavy rain helped too. Even in a place named after sunlight such as Nikko¹, there wasn’t a single ray of sunlight right now— that could be considered dangerous, though.

What if the fickle mountain weather changed again...? Neither of us knew the area well. Actually, Shinobu was worse off. At least I had a smartphone with a map app, but unlike Kagenui-san, who treated her Shikigami like a little sister, I hadn't even given Shinobu a kid's cell phone.

Because she wasn’t my daughter. 

No, it's no use; I just can't sit still any longer. 

"I guarantee it. Also, if you move, it's highly probable that our strategy will fail. The best thing for Shinobu-chan is for you to go with Araragi-senpai to Senjougahara."

"I trust you wholeheartedly. If you say it is necessary for me to wear a Naoetsu High School girl’s uniform to find Shinobu, even at my ripe age of twenty-four, I will gladly do it. However, if you say not to do anything, I'd at least like to know what you're planning."

"I'm gonna do something that you'd stop me from doing if I told you. That's all I can say."

It was tempting to point out which of us it was that hadn’t changed since school, but I suppose we were both alike in our stubbornness. The wolf may lose his teeth but never his nature— including the fact that when I look straight into the eyes of my devoted junior, I can’t help but concede.

And that was certainly a hint.

She'd revealed as much of her strategy as possible, just barely toeing the line.

Even I, who wouldn't hesitate to employ any means necessary to find Shinobu, would be compelled to stop what she had in mind.

"……"

Ah, so that’s it— she would ask that conman for a hand. Not the monkey’s paw, at least.

I had come to know of it only after becoming a cop to apprehend him, but through her mother or her aunt, Kanbaru had a direct connection to Kaiki Deishuu, the infamous conman who wreaked havoc in our hometown. It seems that even during high school, unbeknownst to me, she had met with that man.

He had suddenly vanished from the public eye at some point (which might be a natural consequence for a criminal), so I had assumed her ties with him had been severed as well. Even the free-spirited Gaen-san seemed to have decided against approaching the Kanbaru family— but it was quite surprising that she still kept in contact with him.

Right, he might be very skilled at tracking down a runaway girl. In this particular field, his expertise, annoyingly, may well surpass that of Gaen-san. 

Even though I am well aware that the world doesn't always run on justice and righteousness, and even if I tried to put aside personal feelings, as a police officer, it irks me to rely on a criminal's help in a tough situation. But, as Kanbaru said, the chances of finding her were the highest this way.

In fact, there was no one else to lend a hand. Not even a foot.

Even if I disregard our history, as an agent of law enforcement, my presence would undoubtedly put that conman on high alert. And as for assurances, the notorious criminal would never deceive Kanbaru—no matter how reckless an illicit investigation may be, her safety was guaranteed.

Certainly, a decision had to be made.

A painful one.

"Got it. I'll leave everything to you. I grant you carte blanche. But I'll bear all responsibility. Even if things don't go well, you don't need to worry. So, without feeling any pressure, please do your best."

"Leave it to me! Now hurry up and go, Araragi-senpai. There's a minivan waiting for you in the parking lot. From here on out, it's just the two of you. Just a return to the way it should be, the real honeymoon."

It was really paradoxical to think that not pursuing the runaway Shinobu would be best for her. As baffling as it may be, when urged like that, I knew that my mission was clear— to make my way to Oku-Nikko as soon as possible.

Without waiting for me to leave fully, Kanbaru took out her smartphone and began pushing a number on the touch panel that she seemed to remember by heart. Had I gone back on my word and arrasted that conman who played a big part in my motivation to become a police officer, it would not have been impossible. But such betrayal was out of the question.

Actually, I was glad I didn't.

Kanbaru probably thought I'd moved far away when she began the call, but just like how Shinobu regained the power to temporarily break away from her shadow seal, my five senses, too, were enhanced— sharper than they had any right to be. Just as I was tiptoeing through the dark, I could barely make out the familiar voice of my junior from over a dozen meters away.

"My name is Kanbaru Suruga. My special skill is the double jump."

Are you still saying that?

Maybe she had matured since she refrained from saying anything about Araragi-senpai—but she was no criminal, and I had no intention to eavesdrop. On the contrary, I wanted to quicken my pace so as not to overhear, but I couldn’t go faster than the speed of sound— in between the rain's cacophony, I could just make out Kanbaru's next line.

"Sorry to bother you while you're so busy, Sengoku-chan, but I need a bit of your help— it's not about a doujinshi, no. Not as a manga artist, but as a specialist…"

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

日光nikko=sunlight.

[19761107]

『CAST AWAY』PART1~ Living alone on a deserted island. Three elements for living. "Eating, talking, being useful"~

01. Introduction

This work is a story about a male protagonist who is forced to live alone on a deserted island after a plane crash.

Suddenly, modern humans are left alone in the middle of nowhere.

A place where he was separated from his lover and had no food or water.

There are conditions for plants to grow.

☆Sunlight

☆Air

☆Temperature

☆Moisture

☆Nutrients

If even one of these is missing, the seed will not develop to the end.

So what do humans need to survive?

This work allows you to think about such themes through desert island life, where the complexities of civilized society are removed and the focus is on survival.

We feel anxious and worried about all the difficulties and incidents in our lives.

Even in such a complicated and intertwined mind, if you understand the elements that are truly necessary for a person, you can throw away unimportant worries.

I think you can lighten some of the weight you're carrying.

If you can skillfully let go of petty attachments and preoccupations, your goal will simply be to "survive."

Let's take a look at this work together to see how we can survive.

~《Characters》~

Chuck... System engineer at international shipping company FedEx,

A person whose work is all about saving time.

Kelly...Chuck's fiancée

Wilson...Volleyball made by Wilson

Stan...Chuck's best friend has a wife with cancer

Bettina...Artist, resident of the parcel delivery destination

ーーーーーーーーーー

~《Famous lines that you want to tell someone》~

☆Chuck: "That is not much time. But we...We live and we die by time, don't we? Now, let's not commit the sin of turning our back on time."☆

Background: A wall of a mobile toilet that resembles the sails of a ship washes ashore. Chuck builds a raft, escapes from the waves, and decides to go offshore to find help. Chuck's soliloquy as he gains the will to live and immerses himself in the work of building the raft.

1：23：00～1：26：25

ーーーーーーーーーー

~《Beautiful camera scene that I want to show you》~

☆The sail of the raft washes ashore, and Chuck is filled with hope. He's going to share the nonsense of living on a deserted island with volleyball named Wilson. "Regardless, I would rather take my chance out on the ocean than to stay here and die on this shithole island, spending the rest of my life talking to a goddam volleyball! "

The moment Chuck throws Wilson to the sea, he feels a sudden rush of loneliness.

Chuck goes to find Wilson, crying and asking for forgiveness. We can't help but feel the fear of loneliness as Chuck cries alone on the ocean playing volleyball under the moonlight. ☆

1：28：45～1：31：40

ーーーーーーーーーー

02. Ruler of Time

At the beginning of the piece, there is a wide crossroads.

A truck turns right at the crossroads of four roads that spread out so far that we can't see what's ahead.

A courier receives the package from the atelier.

The camera's line of sight changes to the luggage.

The truck door closes and it becomes pitch black.

The next time the door opened, a Russian exhaled and brought out his luggage.

Baggage is passed from person to person. from place to place. The camera also moves from right to left. From left to right. Move, move.

A young boy, Nikolai, picks up his luggage and runs through the streets and over bridges, changing the scenery as he moves.

The destination he arrived at was the FedEx cargo collection point in Moscow.

In this dump, a man speaks of the "Delivery Idea'' like a revolutionary who is speaking about the ideology he believes to be the only one.

This man speaks in front of an audience about the preciousness of "time."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Time rules over us without mercy, not caring if we're healthy or ill, hungry or drunk."

"Russians, Americans, beings from Mars"

"It's like a fire. It could either destroy us or keep us warm."

"That's why every FedEx office has a clock."

"Because we live or we die by the clock.''

"We never turn out back on it."

"And we never ever allow ourselves the sin of losing track of time!"

"Locally, it's 1:56."

"That means we've got three hours and four minutes before the end-of-the day's package sort."

"That's how long we have. That's how much time we have..."

"...before this pulsating, accursed, relentless taskmaster tries to put out of business."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Young Nicolai handed Chuck the package.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Hey, Nicolai.Good to see you. How are you, kid?"

"You just delivered your very first FedEx package."

"That deserves something special, like a Snickers bar and...a CD player."

"And something to listen to. There. Elvis Presley."

"Fifty million fans can't be wrong."

"You all recognize this, don't you?"

"I took the liberty of sending this to myself."

"I FedEx'd it before I left Memphis."

"You're probably wondering what could be in here."

"Is it architectural plans? Maybe technical drawings?"

"Is this the new wallpaper for the bathroom?"

"It is a clock, which I started at absolute zero, and is now at 87 hours, 22 minutes and 17 seconds."

"From Memphis, America to Nicolai in Russia, 87 hours."

"87 hours is a shameful outrage."

"This is just an egg timer!"

"What if it had been something else?"

"Like your pay check?"

"Or fresh boysenberries?"

"Or adoption papers?"

"87 hours is an eternity. The cosmos was creating in less time!"

"Wars have been fought and nations toppled in 87 hours!"

"Fortunes made and squandered."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck listens as the interpreter imitates riding a bicycle.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"What? What are you saying about me?"

Interpreter:

"I tell them, what do they expect?"

"This man, when his truck broke down, he stole a boy's bicycle."

Chuck:

"I borrowed it! I borrowed a kid's bike."

"I got my packages delivered, and that is what you have to do."

"You have to do whatever it takes, because in three hours two minutes, every one of these packages has to be on the big truck, on its way to the airport."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The main character, Chuck, is a middle-aged man who is a systems engineer at FedEx, an international shipping company.

He traveled all over the world, working hard to solve transportation-related problems.

A car gets stuck on Red Square in the Moscow Kremlin.

They take the luggage out of the truck, reload it, and hurry to the airport.

"Time'' is their life's occupation.

03. A fleeting vacation

He returns to Memphis and spends the night with his girlfriend, Kelly.

The camera subtly captures a sailing license displayed in the house, foreshadowing the disaster to come.

And Christmas, lively relatives and a sumptuous meal.

This scene is also a preparation for the comparison with the drifting life.

Despite the pain of a cavity, he saves time and spends Christmas with his relatives before jetting off to Malaysia, where the problem arose.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"That reminds me. I almost forgot."

"I have one more present for you."

"Only this isn't an 'open in the car' kind of present like, say , hand towels."

"Which was a joke, by the way."

Kelly:

"I'm terrified."

Chuck:

"Just take it and hold onto it, and you can open it on New Year's Eve."

"And I love you."

"I'll be right back!"

ーーーーーーーーーー

Just before boarding a plane to Malaysia, Chuck gives his girlfriend Kelly an engagement ring.

Kelly puts a picture of herself in her grandfather's pocket watch and gives it to Chuck as a gift.

04.Airplane accident

The plane Chuck will be boarding is a company plane loaded with FedEx luggage.

Chuck fell asleep for a while on the plane, his pocket watch with Kelly's photo next to him.

Chuck is suddenly woken up by the sudden shaking of the plane.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Hey, Al, where are we?"

Al:

"Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean."

Chuck:

"Ha, ha, ha! You pilots, you're funny."

Pilot1:

"Tahiti control, FedEx 88. Position Jenna at 1526."

Chuck:

"Is this turbulence from Santa and those eight tiny reindeer?"

ーーーーーーーーーー

The pilot interrupted Chuck's conversation with a hand gesture.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Pilot1:

"Fuel gauge reading 95.5 while approaching coordinates T1620."

"Erick is next."

"Fuel, niner-five-decimal-five."

"Blaine, tell them we’re deviating."

"Make a position plot on your left."

"Tahiti control, FedEx 88. Position Jenna at 1526."

"Flight level 350."

Pilot2:

"I got us plotted."

"We're 200 miles south of original course."

"Continue plotting, check contingency procedures."

Pilot1:

"Tahiti Conorol. FedEx 88 broadcasting in the blind. How do you read?"

Pilot2:

"I've never been out this long."

"Did you try the higher HF frequency?"

Pilot1:

"Tahiti Conorol. FedEx 88."

Al:

"Better buckle up, Chuck. It's gonna get bumpy."

Pilot1:

"Tahiti Conorol. FedEx 88. Do you read?"

"Tahiti Control, FedEx 88. Position Jenna at 1526. Flight level 350."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck realizes the seriousness of the situation from the panicked expressions on the pilots' faces.

Suddenly, a hole appears in the fuselage, and pressure builds up inside the aircraft.

Crew members desperately put on oxygen masks.

Chuck is ordered to put on a life jacket and belt, which he does.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Pilot2:

"Explosion! Let's get a hose!"

Al:

"Hold on to it! Come on! Seat belt!"

"We may have to ditch!"

Pilot1:

"Mayday! Mayday!"

Pilot2:

"Bringing it down and out!"

"Ten thousand feet! Masks off! "

"Masks off! "

Al:

"Chuck! Life vest! "

"Chuck! Chuck, stay there! "

"Where's your life vest?"

Pilot2:

"Ditching switch on! !"

"I've got visual! "

"Brace for impact! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

Due to repeated abnormal shaking, Kelly's pocket watch, which was nearby, falls out of reach in the hallway.

Chuck wonders what to do, then takes off his belt and goes to retrieve his pocket watch.

The moment he picked up the pocket watch, the plane broke in two and crash-landed in the ocean.

Seawater rushes into the cabin.

In an instant, the plane sank into the sea.

Chuck unfolds the lifeboat and floats out to sea, and passes out once he gets into the boat.

05.Washing ashore

Chuck woke up and found himself on the beach.

He was stranded on a deserted island where only the sound of ripples could be heard.

He picks up the packages that have been washed up and checks to see if anyone is there.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Hello! "

"Hello! "

"Anybody! "

"Anybody! "

"Help! "

"Help! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

Only Chuck's voice echoes hollowly.

The word "HELP" was painted in large letters on the beach, but the tide came in and it disappeared the next morning.

All he can see is an empty horizon.

Sometimes Chuck hears noises.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"What is that?"

"Hey! "

"Hey! "

"Anybody?"

ーーーーーーーーーー

It was the sound of coconuts falling under the weight of ripening.

Coconuts are hard and will not break even if Chuck throws them against rocks or slam them against sharp edges.

By chance, the stone broke and he used the sharp part like a knife to slit the coconut and sip the little juice inside.

He walks around the island with a cane, but there are no signs of humans.

As he was walking barefoot, He cut his foot on a rock.

Clothes were cut with sharp stones and tied with string to make shoes.

Chuck climbs to the highest point on the island and has a 360 degree view of the island.

The view there was of countless large waves crashing against the island, and just a wide horizon.

It's a clever scene that shows Chuck's despair.

This time, Chuck placed a piece of driftwood in a high place where the tide wouldn't reach, and wrote the word "HELP" on it.

Chuck notices something floating in the ocean.

It was the body of his colleague Al, with whom he had been talking just before the accident.

Chuck looks at Al's face and, seeing Al's sad state, covers his mouth and laments.

Dig a grave and honorably mourn the pilot.

The scene where his face is pale and he folds his leg joints in a dogleg shape to fit into the hole is painful.

It was carved into a large stone nearby as a tombstone.

"Albert Miller 1950-1995"

Chuck hits the fish with a tree branch, but it escapes, and he catches a crab, but the crab is too thin to be eaten raw.

06.Big wave that blocks escape

As Chuck relieved himself one evening, he noticed the flashing lights of a ship off in the ocean.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Hey! A ship! Hey! Hey! "

"Hey! Hey! "

"A ship! Over here! "

"Hey! Hey! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck frantically waves his flashlight around and flashes it to alert them to his location.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Over here! Over here! "

"Over here! "

"Over here! Over here! "

"Help me! Help! Right here! Right here! "

"Help! Lock here! Look, look, look! "

"S...O...S...! "

"Please! Help! Come on! "

"Help!"

ーーーーーーーーーー

Not wanting to die in a place like this, Chuck gets on a rubber boat and heads out to sea to try to get to the ship.

A large wave blocks Chuck's boat.

Every time the boat went forward, it was blocked by high waves and was driven to the island.

The rubber boat ruptures, and Chuck's body is thrown and scraped against a hard rock, seriously injuring him.

There is only one character in the story, but no narration is used.

By making the audience concentrate on the video and giving them a sense of realism, and by varying the way Chuck looks at the camera, it creates a feeling as if we are reliving the experience.

On dark nights and rainy days, he hides in caves.

He looked at Kelly's photo on his pocket watch and mentally turned on and off the pilot's flashlight to ease his loneliness.

Eventually, the flashlight's batteries run out and Chuck is deprived of light.

Beat boredom by carving the number of days lost or carving caricatures of Wilson and Kelly into rocks.

07. Contents of the parcel

Several FedEx packages washed up on the beach, and Chuck took good care of them.

When the ship first arrived ashore, Chuck did not touch the customer's mails.

After a few days, he realized that no help was coming and opened them.

Ice skating, a party dress, videotapes, one volleyball.

There is a nice contrast between Chuck's current primitive life and the modern consumer society that the parcel shows.

There was one package with angel wings on it, but for some reason Chuck never opened it.

The ice skate blade was used as a knife.

They cut slits into coconuts, sharpen the tips of harpoons for fishing, and use it to cut down branches to protect themselves from the cold.

He made a large net to catch fish using the see-through skirt of the dress.

Using these tools, he was able to secure food for the time being.

American movies have been very good at using props like this since the days of slapstick comedy.

It's full of humor.

Can you imagine what you can use volleyball for?

08. Expressive friend

One day, Chuck rubs twigs together to start a fire, but nothing comes of it.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Come on! "

"Come on Come on"

"Come on Come on"

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck's tooth decay gradually begins to hurt.

Chuck's hand slips due to excessive force, and a branch pierces his palm, injuring him.

Chuck's pent-up anger explodes as he kicks everything around him, picks up a volleyball, and slams it against a rock wall.

A volleyball that rolls and stops quietly.

Chuck stares at the volleyball, which has blood stains on its palm.

As he does this, the volleyball gradually begins to look like a human face.

Chuck picks up the ball and draws eyes, a mouth, and a nose.

Chuck named the ball Wilson.

Because it was a volleyball made by WILSON.

Director Robert Zemeckis has a playful way of using these corporate names.

There are many humorous scenes in movies such as "Forest Gump'' and "Back to the Future'' that feature company names.

Although it is a fictional movie, the name of a real company creates a sense of connection with the audience.

Unexpectedly, we found ourselves smiling.

Chuck tries his best to start a fire.

He felt Wilson's eyes on him and looked into his face.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"You wouldn't have a match...by any chance, would you?"

"Oh, oh, oh"

ーーーーーーーーーー

There was some smoke.

Chuck quickly sees the reaction on Wilson's face.

He guessed that the cracks in the twigs allowed oxygen to pass through and the smoke came out.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"The air got to it."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck yelled at Wilson.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"The air got to it!"

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck successfully started a fire.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"It's fire!"

ーーーーーーーーーー

From twigs to more boughs, the fire grew like a torch.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"There you go!"

"Light it up! Come on! "

"♫ The time to hesitate is through..."

"Ouch! "

"♫ No time to wallow in the mire."

"♫ Try now, we can only lose."

"♫ Cos, girl, we couldn't get much higher."

"♫ Come on, baby light my fire..."

"♫ There you go! Here you go! "

"It's a signal fire! "

"And it spells out SOS! "

"It's a meteor shower! "

"Firefries! Go! Run! "

"You're free! You're free! Ouch! Ouch! "

"Yeah! "

"Yes! "

"Look what I have created! "

"I have made fire! "

"I... have made fire! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

A proud Chuck lies down and talks to Wilson while enjoying the grilled crab.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Mmm! "

"You gotta love crab."

"In the nick of time, too."

"I couldn't take much more of those coconuts."

"Coconut milk's a natural laxative."

"Things that Gilligan never told us."

"Pretty well-made fire, huh, Wilson?"

"So... Wilson."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck drew a sky route on the rock wall.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"We were en route from Memphis for 11 and a half hours."

"About 475 miles an hour. So they think that we are right here."

"But... we went out of radio contact then flew around that storm...for about an hour."

"So that's a distance of what 400 miles?"

"Four hundred miles squared, that's 160,000...times pi, 3.14."

"Five hundred and two thousand, four..."

"That's a search area of 500,000 square miles."

"That's twice the size of Texas."

"They may never find us."

ーーーーーーーーーー

From here, Chuck adds Wilson and begins to use the first person as "WE,OUR and US.''

Wilson's presence provides emotional support.

The pain from tooth decay had finally reached its limit.

Chuck talks to Wilson.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"This tooth is just killing me."

"It’s started out just hurting when I bit down, but now it just hurts all the time."

"All the time."

"It’s a good thing there’s not much to eat around here, cos I don’t think I could chew it."

"Just keep sucking on all that coconut and all that crab."

"That's stupid, I hated going to the dentist."

"And just think, I used to avoid going to the dentist like the plague."

"I put it off every single chance I got. But now..."

"Oh, what I wouldn't give ...to have a dentist right here in this cave."

"In fact, I wish you were a dentist."

"Yeah, Dr. Wilson."

"You wanna hear something funny?"

"Back home in Memphis, my dentist's name is Dr. James Salding."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Another manufacturer of sports balls is "Spalding.''

There were many caricatures of Wilson painted on the walls.

Chuck paints a mural of Kelly's portrait.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"She's much prettier in real life."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Using his skate as a mirror, Chuck put the blade from the other shoe into his mouth and pulled out the tooth himself.

Chuck is in so much pain that he passes out.

09.Wings of hope

Four years have passed since then.

Chuck, looking like Moses, is standing on a rock, posing confidently as he thrusts a harpoon into a fish swimming from a distance.

Chuck has become semi-feral and is sensitive to the slightest noises.

He stuck many twigs into Wilson's head to create hair.

Chuck said to Wilson, who was already worn out.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Shut up! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck approaches the sound, behaving suspiciously.

It was the sound of the walls of the portable toilet washing over each other and the waves hitting the rocks over and over again.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"Bakersfield?"

"Bakersfield!"

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck has an idea when he sees the wall of the toilet he had built fall over due to the wind.

He glanced at Wilson.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"This could work."

"This could work."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck thought that if he could use it as a sail for a raft, he could get over those big waves and go further offshore.

He looks at Wilson and talks to him.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"22...44 lashings"

"44 lashings. So..."

"We have to make rope again."

"Wilson, we have to make a hell of a lot of rope."

"Eight lashings of these structurals. That's 24 apiece."

"That'll be 100...160."

"Here we are today."

"That gives us a month and a half until we're into March and April, which is our best chances for high tides and offshore breezes."

"We need… We need 424 feet of good rope, another 50 feet for miscellaneous."

"Round that off to 475 feet of good rope."

"Now, if we average 15 feet a day..."

"Plus, we have to build it, we have to stock it, we have to launch it."

"That's gonna be tight."

"That is not much time."

"But we...We live and we die by time, don't we?"

"Now, let's not commit the sin of turning our back on time."

ーーーーーーーーーー

He remembered my beliefs when he was an office worker.

He is filled with the will to live.

It's been four years since he's been adrift, and these words are ironic considering that he sometimes "turns his back on himself."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"I know."

"I know."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck made a raft using the rope he had made.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Chuck:

"This is it."

"That's all that's left."

"I checked over the whole island, and that is all that is all that's left."

"So we're gonna be short."

"Short."

"We're just gonna have to make some more out of videotape."

"Yes. No, we have time."

"We do. We have time. Look! "

"The wind's still blowing in from the west."

To be Continued…Part2

[anthrogothic]

Body/Prision

~Well, this is the first fic I've posted (not that I've written many). Maybe I found it interesting to explore the emotional and psychological side of the clones and, of course, Echo. Besides, of course, other little things. Hope you like it. 🥺 (and sorry for any mistake as this fic was originally written in brazilian portuguese).

Second part heeeeree

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader (in this chapter only Hunter and Wrecker appear for now)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Body insecurity and bullying.

You were always a woman of science. Curious, persistent and genius. As a child, you loved growing plants and watching animals. Sometimes experimented with changing the color of flowers in jars with colorful products or hatching small eggs of birds and reptiles in small boxes bathed in light and heated cloths. You once set fire to his parents Aldeeranian Silk curtains, after pointing a magnifying glass in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows.

No wonder you was one of the top students at Naboo's Faculty of Science when was older. After all, you were one of the few females in your class. Being constantly the victim of offensive comments and jokes, mainly because of baggy clothes that didn't mark your body, adopted after years of harassment for your sharp curves. Your glasses and voluminous hair didn't do much for the "jokes" to stop. Withdrawn in any group of popular and partying colleagues, you had nothing but to study with your few fellow “nerds”.

As a result, you soon got your first job in the field. Standing out so much that you was invited to participate in the cloning processes on Kamino a few times, even creating a certain professional relationship with Nala Se, the chief scientist.

You weren't a fan of cloning, even though it was incredible, you found it somewhat unethical in relation to the impact on the lives of Jango Fett clones. They weren't just battle products or numbers to you, but Human Beings with as many rights as anyone else. That they should have autonomy over their lives. But work is not always 100% pleasant, as much as it is something you love as long as you understand being human.

With your occasional visits to Kamino, you ended up having the sympathy of the clones, precisely for treating them like ordinary people, with different names and personalities despite the identical DNA and their fateful serial numbers.

You even ate with them in the cafeteria instead of the staff room and played with them in your free time and some would sneak men's uniforms for you, who were too bothered by the looks and teasing you received in your tight women's uniform.

One day, during a typical meal with your friends, a tone of laughter and nasty comments made you take your attention off your plate.

You poked your clone friend in the shoulder on your right.

"What is happening?"

He, without even looking up, snorted a laugh and spoke before taking the meal to his mouth:

"So you don't know the subject of the moment? There is a new squad among us. Weird… but they haven't suffered a single casualty on the field so far."

You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck a few times in an attempt to see something.

"I was not informed of this. I have not been assigned to inspect newly graduated soldiers for some time. But why the laughter and so much whispering?"

Deep in your brain, the bitter memory of your college days was pulled.

Your friend gave you an incredulous look, gesturing to find the right words to avoid any reprimand from you:

"They… well… are technically defective. Very different from us. No wonder they nicknamed them The Bad Batch."

He stifled a laugh. Soon getting punched in the arm accompanied by a scowl from you.

"Okay, okay. Forgive me, clone rights advocate."

His irony was clear, making you roll your eyes and get up, heading towards the counter where they left the used dishes. After thanking the wrinkled green lady who served the meal, you turned in the direction of leaving the cafeteria, but a sharp impact on your face and chest propels you back, followed by a lot of pain and strong hands gripping your elbows.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

A familiar, but deeper and stronger voice resonated in your ears, making you open your eyes faster than you normally would, as you bring your hand to your forehead and in the background thanking the Maker for wearing contact lenses instead of glasses today . It took you a while to map the face of the man in front of you. His long dark hair fell to his shoulders, his red bandana letting out a few shorter strands across his forehead, his almond-shaped eyes looking a little worried, and finally, a tattoo that covered the entire left part of his face.

He was familiar…but at the same time very different from the other clones. Even the armor, grey and red. Definitely seeing a different face in that cafeteria was a bit intriguing.

"I think you broke her, Hunter!"

A loud, husky voice came from behind you, making you turn your back to the tattooed man, just to behold the huge soldier who covered your entire field of vision.

He was huge, broad and with perfectly shaped muscles. Gradually, your eyes traveled from his abdomen, across his broad chest to his face. This one had no hair. He had a blind eye, with a huge scar running from there to the ear. The clone's good eye looked you up and down, literally.

"I'm fine… sorry… I-"

You were shocked by the image of both men. Could it be they who your friend had spoken of?

You can barely complete your sentence when interrupted by a clone next to you.

"Well well. The scientist and her laboratory freaks. How comical..."

He didn't even stop to stare at you, being followed by two other clones who clearly enjoyed the bad joke.

The men beside you clenched their fists and the bigger one growled, taking long, heavy strides in front of you, until he was stopped by the tattooed-faced clone, who practically jumped in front of him, bracing a hand on his chest.

"Forget it, Wrecker. It's not worth it… and we can't take another warning for assault in the cafeteria."

The taller one nodded a few seconds later, clearly disappointed not to get his hands on his attacker.

With slow steps, you approached them, curious and also irritated by the other clone's words.

"Idiots."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your voluminous breasts.

"You are the new squad the others are talking about, aren't you?"

There was a certain wonder in your voice now.

"Force Clone 99, doctor!"

The two said in chorus, with clear pride in their words and saluting.

"The rest of the team is going through the assessment upstairs. Miraculously we both got through!"

Said the taller clone, with humor in his voice, pulling a smirk from the tattooed clone.

You smiled, even more in awe of them. They were beautiful, unique and not "sloppy".

"Nice to meet you Hunter and… Wrecker, isn't it? My name is Y/N, I work in the lab."

The two looked at each other, minimally polite treatment to the clones was a little rare around here.

"We've heard about you. Won't you give me a warning? For… bumping into you?"

Hunter was a little suspicious, moving closer to you, watching your forehead. Looking for any evidence of injury.

"Oh no, of course not. It was an accident. I also barely looked where I was going."

You tried to be as gentle as possible, despite your brow and nose bothering you, already realizing that it couldn't be too easy for them to get along with each other. You continued:

"Trust me, I know what it's like to be bothered all the time by little jokes and to have people pick on me out of simple dislike. I'm not like the rest of the employees."

Wrecker approached you, already with a content expression on his face.

"There is! I liked her! At least someone here doesn't hate us!"

The clone pulled you into a hug, pressing his side with yours. You blushed a little, as physical contact was never common with you.

Hunter continued with a suspicious expression and his arms now crossed, making him even more imposing, just taking the look off your face, when the communicator you carried in your pocket beeped.

Brought out of your reverie by Wrecker's tight embrace and Hunter's form, you picked up your communicator to read the newly arrived messages.

"Uh… I need to go. Nala Se never give me a break. See you later guys. Hope to meet the rest of you!"

You headed towards the exit, leaving a sympathetic smile as you left the clones. They were still there, trying to absorb how kind you, a scientist, were to them.

[anystalker707]

You're like art

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word counting: 1 603 Genre: Fluff / Cottagecore Summary: Gerard and (y/n) have a peaceful day, painting by the lake and laying down on flower fields

Requested on Wattpad

Gerard and I have been planning it for a time already, but the universe never seemed to comply with us until today, when the sun finally decided to show up in a day when we're completely free from any appointment. We shared the same thought as soon as we woke up, even without having changed any word. Our equipment has been prepared for a long time so we wouldn't waste time before just grabbing it to go, leaning against the wall of the bedroom, to a point a thin sheet of dust covered them objects when we moved to grab them.

I organize a bag with food and a few drinks since we obviously won't be returning so soon and make sure we have everything for us to leave.

We have had lunch about half an hour ago, in a way the sun is bright and high in the sky once we leave our house, but it isn't exactly a problem since the place we're going to isn't far from here and perfectly shaded by trees at this time of the day. The warm embraces us like a warm hug from the woods once we start walking into it, proving we were right in choosing lighter clothes to wear.

"Did you grab the solvent?" Gerard asks, voice muffled among the sound of the wind going through the tree's leaves and the dry ones cracking under our feet along with twigs. The woods so silent, yet so loud.

"Of course, I had left it along with the paints already," I tell him, glancing at Gerard with a smile before I press a kiss to his cheek.

Thankfully, the lake soon comes into view.

The lake isn't that wide, water almost completely clear as it is surrounded by bright green grass which covers the way until the small plants start turning into trees. Lilac flowers grow on a few points, along with a few yellow ones, giving the place an even more pleasing, comfortable, warm vibe.

Both of us have been working on a painting together – we made sure of bringing it with us today so we can work more on it. Maybe it's the excitement for doing everything, the whole time we spent wanting to work on this, even the setting, but the need to paint is so great. Seeing the paint laying around, having stains of paint all over our hands, observing the delicate result of the soft brushes against the canvas are almost like if a necessity as important as eating, right now, making us feel like the lack of it will drive us to death, in a way.

Gerard observes me throwing a blanket over the grass before he takes a seat beside me, carefully placing the canvas down on the ground. We start organizing everything, the brushes, bottle of solvent, paints and palette, along with the cloths to clean the brushes on. Bringing the stand wasn't really an option since it wouldn't be exactly convenient, so the ground it is.

A sigh escapes my lips as I observe Gerard carefully starting to fill the palette with paint and mixing the colors carefully to reach the tone he wants.

The sunlight casts over Gerard, squirming between the leaves and making its way through the trees, creating light spots that illuminate his pale skin and create beautifully contrasted shadows, giving Gerard a baroque air, which gets even richer when his eyes are illuminated the right way.

"What?" Gerard asks, a shy smile taking over his lips when he notices I've been observing him.

"You're just so beautiful," I tell him the truth with a smile, watching it as his cheeks gain a red tone with the compliment and his eyes drift downwards.

"It's just because you love me." Gerard turns back to the painting, thought noticeably happy with the compliment. "C'mon, paint with me, quit gazing at me so much," he teases lightly, momentarily pausing his actions to pull a dark strand of hair away from his face, hooking it behind his ear.

"Sure, love." Despite my words, I instead move to grab the polaroid camera from the bag and proceed to take a picture of Gerard. He only notices it due to the sound of the picture being taken.

"Hey!" He glares playfully, humming as he leans in closer to me. "Let me take a look."

The picture slowly appears on the small piece of paper and I smile pleased with it, though it absolutely doesn't make justice for Gerard and the beauty he holds right now. He doesn't share the same thoughts. I roll my eyes, giving his arm a light slap. "Let's paint," I say as putting the camera aside and finally moving to help him with it.

At some point, the attention we once gave the paint is reduced to neglect since we end up getting more distracted with snapping multiple pictures of each other, giggling as we roll around on the grass. I take more pictures of Gerard, easily snatching the camera from him, managing to capture all the moments in which he's giggling or trying to act angry at me. Gerard quickly tries to solve this and, before I can notice, he's straddling my hips to prevent me from moving and taking uncountable photos of me like I did to him moments ago.

"I guess we ran out of paper..." Gerard mutters, furrowing his eyebrows as he presses down on the button a few times, but nothing comes from the camera. He just stares at it in frustration, pouting.

"'Seems like it," I say with a sigh, calming myself down after all the laughter. My hand runs up and down Gerard's thighs in an affectionate motion while I observe him still fidgeting with the camera. "I didn't think we would take this many of pictures, so..."

"Sounds fair." Gerard puts it away and his expression changes into a loving one once he turns to me again, hands taking place on my shoulders. His lips meet to mine in a sweet kiss, his hand cupping my neck as his thumb traces my jawline softly. He pulls away at some point, but quickly pulls me to a kiss again, humming quietly against my lips. "We should go to the flower field nearby. You know how beautiful it gets during the sunset."

"Of course," I say with a smile, brushing my nose against his lightly. "There will be no problem if we leave our things here, right?"

"Well, if anyone wants a halfway done painting and pictures of two random strangers being weird... good for them, good for them," he says sarcastically and both of us break in chuckles. "Let's go." Pecking my lips, a last time, he moves to stand up.

We grab the cans of tea we brought with us and head towards the flower field. There's a small space on which we like to lay, mainly because we end up not damaging any of the flowers due to the lack of anything but grass there. The flowers aren't too tall and are the same lilac and yellow ones from around the lake, giving us a notion of their origin, though the field holds a greater variety of flowers and colors.

I press my lips to Gerard's suddenly, stealing a kiss from him and continue pressing kisses all over his face, what has him giggling. "I won't be able to drink my tea, that way," he complains, but all I do is to roll my eyes and press a kiss to his pouting lips. He stares and I can't help but to chuckle.

The sun is starting to set itself down in the horizon when we start sipping on our drinks and I start observing the field, which's down a hill that ends in another clearing in the woods. Gerard resting his head against my shoulder brings me back to reality – I observe him for a moment and sigh happily, pressing a kiss to his head.

Everything is quite peaceful. Our cans are empty by the time the sun has almost completely hidden itself behind the hills in the horizon – casting bright and beautiful colors on the clouds standing in the way of the sunrays – and we set them aside to get it again when we leave. We lay back on the grass to watch the sky, side by side, hands holding onto each other.

Gerard's fingers play with mine, in an almost tickling sensation because of how gentle his touch is. His hand wraps itself around mine again, giving it a squeeze before Gerard is rolling over onto his stomach and bringing himself up on his elbows, looking at me with a loving gaze, one that has me feeling my heart fluttering.

"You're losing the sunset," I whisper for no apparent reason, but it feels like the atmosphere is too delicate even for a loud voice tone.

"Why would I?" Gerard has an amused air on his expression, speaking with such a certainty, in the same quiet tone as me. "You're much more beautiful. I prefer to appreciate you."

"There'll never be a sunset like this again, yet, I'll continue like this for a long time," I tell him.

"And you'll never be under the light of a sunset like this again, so I guess I have the right of choosing my priorities." It's clear he isn't able to hold back the grin his lips part into and he seems pleased with how he makes me flustered, wordlessly bragging about it by pressing an unexpected kiss to my lips.

[hughiecampbelle]

Parting Gift (Sam Wilson Oneshot)

Character/s: Sam

Word Count: 1,411

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @ladyeliot @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon @valkyrie-2312

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, but the closest I can get to that is melancholy lol. The weathers been nice and it got me feeling nostalgic for summer. I hope this gives off that vibe, if that makes sense? Sam just seemed perfect for this and I kinda love this :) It doesn't exactly fit the timeline, but oh well :P There are only Endgame spoilers, none with TFATWS. I can't thank you enough for letting me rest with my health/writing and posting in general. I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: You finally got him back 💌

Gif Credit: @biwilson / link 💕

FIC MASTERLISTS 1 -> 3 /WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The low hum of the fan stirs in the quiet heat, restless, a lullaby you've grown used to since the season thawed. The snow puddles disappearing from the hot sidewalks, the grass growing green, the layers shedding around you until there is nothing but skin and the cool air that kisses it. It's old and shaky, the blades twisted, the fixture rattling, threatening to fall from the ceiling with every spin. Another chore you simply never got around to fixing, neglected much like the rest of the house. Like you, it was lucky it was still standing. The floors cried and creaked, needing to be replaced, but where was the time? The paint chipped, falling flake by flake, the shelves in need of dusting, the lawn grown too long, things were rusted, ruining, aging. Everything crooked, leaning, too heavy to stand on its own. One in the same, you and it, a reflection of your inner world, your inner turmoil, your grief defying, humanizing, materializing in rusted pipes, in thorny bushes, and weeds sprouting in the cracks of the sidewalks.

It was your dream. An escape. A slice of heaven he plucked from the skies. At least, that's how he'd described it. His hand, warm and calloused, over your eyes, letting your suspicions get the better of you, questioning like a child. What color was the door? How many windows? Was there a backyard? A steadiness in his voice you knew was not as solid as he showed, leading you past the street, past your new neighbors, the shade of the trees making your skin prickle. Up the path, you tried counting your own steps, anything to cheat the system. A leap of faith, you put so nicely. A house he passed by, one that struck him, caught his eye in a way nothing ever had. You? A house? Romanticized by the shoe box apartments the city had to offer, you never pictured any other life. Not out of opposition, but sheer innocence, a passive, thoughtless gesture you'd never recognized until the opportunity came along. Little convincing, it took. Somewhere far away from danger, from life, where you would always be safe together. That was enough. Always would be.

A fixer upper, that's what it was. Someone to care for in their old age, a long forgotten space only one with a heart of gold could fall for. Whether you were speaking of you, or the house, he'd never get the chance to ask. Where he saw the two of you, together, watching the rain pour from outside, comforted by a warm kitchen, a grand bedroom, nooks you could fill with hints of yourselves, you saw a slanted driveway, an unkempt garden, leaky ceilings and no hot water. He had hope. Dripped in honey,band hope, his voice sang through the thin walls, a symphony of ideas, of dreams for what it would one day be, taking you by the hand, leading you through. A maze of projects, big and small, things you'd add to a list of infinite length, your pen running out of ink long before you ever reached the bottom. For now, a coat of paint, a bucket or two for the leaks. He promised you, in the middle of an empty house, that it would one day be your home. You trusted him, because he was so sure of it, unlike anything else before.

You watched him sleep, the two of you facing one another. The sheets long discarded, too warm to even touch. You could follow the rise and fall of his back, the way in which he held the pillow to him, as if scared to let go. Tracing every line of him with your eyes, taking note of every single change, drinking him up every second you had together. The beads of sweat across his hairline. The upturn of his mouth, a whisper of a smile, as if caught in a sweet dream. The lines you see in yourself not yet reflected in him. Untouched by time. Five years could turn into a lifetime with the right kind of loneliness.

Plastic stuck to the furniture, bloated, sweaty, patiently waiting to be unwrapped. You couldn't bear to look at it, any of it, turning away from entire rooms, going only where it was necessary, using what you needed, not ready to face this place alone. It wasn't that first day, where your things, tightened by the city smog and lack of breathing room, were scattered wherever they might fit, left to expand in their new environment. The kitchen table in the living room. Chairs in the hallway. A couch discarded by the window, blocking the natural light. For the time being, he promised. Too many boxes to count, filled to the brim of glasses and mugs, wedding pictures and high school yearbooks, things you thought you needed, and things you knew you did. All of it wrapped in plastic, paper, t-shirts and towels. Whatever you could find to protect it. Sleeping on the floor those first few days, the mattress late, the frame even later, leaning on one another for that kind of comfort. It wasn't that first day, or week, but enough time to settle. The small things weren't yet opened. Two cups, to dishes, an endless waiting game for supplies to be shipped, of time to be found between work days and exhausted nights. He had a plan though, first the inside, then out. Sometimes there weren't enough plans, or lists, or schedules in the world to stop what would come next.

All of this, less than a month before The Blip.

Things hadn't changed since then, not without him. Five years you carved your path into the floorboards, avoiding everything that hurt like a landmine. His cup, his dish, his knife, and fork, and spoon, untouched. You would not look through your wedding album, or seep into the couch you bought together, or pluck the thorn riddled bushes like you pictured. His side of the bed empty, his clothes tucked away where you didn't have to see. All except one shirt taped up, turned away. His cologne fading from the collar, something out of your control, that made you want to scream. Everything these days, it seemed, was out of your control. Others, they moved on eventually. Started dating. Remarried. Found new friends, had more kids, picked up where they left off. Family reached out, teammates too, but you couldn't look at them. The anger, the sadness, all of it overwhelming. It left you drowning in questions no one had the answer to, everyone asking themselves the same thing: Why him, and not them? Why him, and not you? Why did any of this happen in the first place?

Isolating became the cure, and the corruption. The salt in the wound, a familiar sting you grew to expect, even want. A home for two, he promised, only now you were one. How cruel could the universe be? Hour by hour, day by day, you counted, carrying on for when he'd be back, because he would be. Sam, your Sam, too stubborn a man to give up like that. You would have dusted, washed the floors, made the place a little more welcoming if you'd known he'd be back when he did. Everyone came back, reappearing out of thin air, but where they felt frenzy, uncertain in explaining all that's happened, you were at peace, able to breathe again. Time had stopped when he was gone, your life paused. You could feel it, the moment when, the clocks in the house ticking once again inside their boxes.

Now, you lay together, as you had that first night. Not on the floor, not as naive as you were, but together none of the less. The sunlight strains, wanting to light up the room from behind the curtains. Even without it, you find yourself baking, wishing the fan would have a little more power. Sleeping in, you could have laughed. Five years he had, somewhere else, to rest, and yet you let him, not wanting to wake from what you fear might be a nightmare. If you woke up, and he was gone again, you weren't sure what you'd do, how much longer you could stand it. He assured you though, much like he had with this house, everything would work out in the end. That he was here, and he'd never leave you again.

Ever.

[wastelandcth]

ghost of you - cth

summary: dovey’s been dancing around with the memories of calum and what their relationship used to be. 

author’s notes: here’s the part two of best years! inspired by this tik tok. 

warnings: angst, more sad feelings. 

masterlist || request || more doves

Here I am waking up, dreamt you were by my side.

The weeks seemed to blend together. Days passed much like the seasons and Dovey found herself back in LA with the small dog sleeping in the backseat of her car as she drove through the crowded streets she'd become so used to. It was dark by the time the city lights had come into view, but that never stopped people from being out and celebrating life. Dovey's first few days back in the city were spent in a haze, trying to distract herself from the fact that she'd be seeing Calum again in a matter of days. The first morning back in LA, Dovey woke up to the sunshine on her face, her brain still trying to process the dream that had played through her mind while she slept. 

"Do you think we'll always be like this?" Calum had whispered, his hair a mess from Dovey's fingers that had been tugging and running through it just minutes before. "Do you think it will always feel like we're on our honeymoon?"

He looked ethereal, the way the sunlight hit his skin and made him glow in that hotel room. Dovey could feel his touch on her skin, could feel the way his fingertips traced shapes onto her shoulder, and Dovey could most definitely feel the kisses her pressed onto her skin. 

"I hope so." she whispered back, looking up into the brown eyes she'd fallen in love with all those years ago, "Don't know what I would do if we lost this." 

Left my coffee cup at your place, almost cried. 

Dropping Duke off had seemed like a good idea when she had texted Calum and told him she needed to run some errands before their big meeting. She was almost positive that the old dog missed his house and the dog bed Dovey had forgotten to take with her months ago. The drive, one she had done a thousand times before, felt strange. The streets all looked the same and the neighborhood had changed since the last time she had been there. The lawns were littered with leaves that had fallen and the usual holiday decorations were gone. 

Calum had promised that he'd be out in the studio during the day, that he wasn't going to show up at home while Dovey dropped Duke off. If there was one thing she still believed about Calum, it was his ability to keep a promise, and so she found herself grabbing the hidden key near the front door and walking into the house she'd once called home. 

It was strange, being in the one place she had felt safe and comfortable in and now feeling empty. The AC was on and the windows were shut, making the once lively house silent and cold. Duke would have cared less about the way Dovey's hand shook as she looked around the kitchen and living room, he was on a mission to find the most comfortable spot in the house again. Once she knew that the dog would be comfortable on his own, until Calum came back and he was finally reunited with his owner after months apart, she made her way back to the entrance, her body tensing as she saw the mug on the counter. 

It had been a stupid idea. But Dovey had just been excited to spend some time outside of arenas and radio stations to explore whatever city the tour had brought them to. It had been their first tour together, Calum had practically begged Dovey to join him for at least a few weeks so that he could show her the world. They had snuck out early in the morning, hand in hand through the chilly weather in search of adventure. Calum had made a list of places he'd been wanting to check out and Dovey was not going to say no to spending all the time she could with Cal before they were shoved onto a cramped tour bus again. 

"Do you think they'll let me keep the mug? I'm pretty sure I could convince the waiter to let me take the mug." Calum had mumbled quietly as they sat in a cafe somewhere in the middle of the city, watching the crowds of people walk past them. "I'm pretty good at talking people into things."

"Oh yeah?" Dovey had asked with a chuckle, taking a sip of her own warm drink and examining the matching mug in her hands, "Think you could convince him to let us take both?" 

The mug, evidently, had made its way from a café in Europe all the way back to sunny California without a scratch and now it was staring Dovey in the face. The memories of the tour and just how happy she had been to see Calum in his element on stage and then taking city tours the next day brought a pang to her heart. But the mug had meant just as much to Calum as it did to her and she wasn't going to be the one to steal it from another shelf just for her to be sad again. 

'cause I dreamed long enough, without you I'll never be fine. I won't be just fine. 

Her dreams came in waves most nights. Some were like watching a montage of her life. Sometimes it would be memories of growing up and going to school and other times, it would be of Calum. If she was being honest, most nights ever since she'd gotten to LA, she'd dreamt of Calum. She'd dream of moments she had forgotten about, like their third date when she had made Calum laugh so hard that soda spilled out from his nose or when they pranked Luke while on tour by hiding his passport. 

Some nights, Dovey found herself tossing and turning as she tried to clear her mind of whatever dreams Calum had managed to infiltrate himself into. But the harder she tried the more he showed up and even after their talk, Dovey realized she couldn't ever get him out of her mind. 

I can't drown this out like I always do. 

She found herself walking out of the hotel room in the middle of the night, wrapped up in a hoodie and fuzzy socks. In her mind, the plan was to call him an idiot and tell him he was never allowed to stop talking to her again, which seemed fair considering he hadn't stopped talking the day before when they had been face to face for the first time in months. Then she was going to take the ring back, making sure he knew that if he ever fucked up like this again and she took it off, there was no way in hell she'd ever put it back on. The third step of her plan, the part she was blaming mostly on the dream she'd been having before she shuffled out of bed at two in the morning, was to grab his stupid face and kiss him. 

Dovey had ran over her brilliant plan a few times in her head as the elevator travelled down to the lobby, her mind racing as she began to doubt the genius of it all. Because what if Calum hadn't meant what he said the day before? What if he hadn't wanted to get back together and he was just asking for closure? Surely he would've made it clear, right? Was Dovey just going to drive to their- to his- house and make demands? She had surely lost her mind due to the lack of sleep and now she was going to embarrass her-

"Dovey?" Calum's voice brought her back to the elevator, whose doors were wide open and a very disheveled looking Calum stared back at her in confusion. 

"Calum."

When I close my eyes, I see the ghost of you.

The sun was coming up by the time Calum and Dovey found themselves tangled up in each other's arms, chest rising and falling in unison. The soft light of the sun was peeking in through the blinds of the hotel room and Dovey found herself looking up at the man who she had thought she'd lost. The man who she had given her best years to. But as he laid next to her, with flushed cheeks and curls stuck to his forehead, Dovey realized that he'd given his best years to her. From the ring he'd never taken off since the day she had slid it onto his finger to the way his body fit against hers so perfectly, Calum had been there for all of her best years and they were both going to be there for the rest of them too. 

They might've missed out on a few months, both of them too stubborn to be the first one to cave in and admit the truth, but as Dovey's dreams melded with her reality and Calum's fingertips found their way across her skin, there was no one else she would rather have next to her than Calum. The ghost of pain and loneliness had been next to her for too long and she wasn't going to let them stay any longer. Calum was real and he was holding her like no one else could. For the first time in what seemed like months, both of them found themselves drifting off to sleep with promises made of love and more of their best years to come. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran​ @finelliine​ @moonlightcriess​ @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver​ @calpops​ @karajaynetoday​ @notlukehemmo​ @calumrose​ @devilatmydoor​ @lyss-xo​ @lowkeyflop​

[lover-of-skellies]

Introducing: Valence Bandersnatch. Or Val, if you'd prefer that

He's a British boy (complete with the accent), he lives in Nep's forest by himself, and he's a murderer, getting random people to go back to his little cottage for tea and crumpets or whatever before killing them. From there, he has to dump the bodies in Nep's lake, since he's indebted to Nep (the family of lake dwellers are allowing him to live on their land, so he has to repay them somehow to keep the peace)

He's a flirt with a weird set of morals. Like,, he'll flirt with a person and do sinful things with them if he's in a good mood, but forcing yourself on someone who doesn't want it though? That's a big no no, and if he finds out that someone's done that to someone else before, he will literally kill them on the spot. He’s also got this weird ability that involves changing his appearance, so he can make himself look like anyone he wants. The only thing he can't do from there is mimic their voice. As far as a job goes, he's a hunter and an herbalist, and he sometimes even lends his ability to enchant things to people as well, though that's more expensive for them

Because I was bored and had some free time, I went and wrote a thing to kinda introduce him a little :P it's kinda long though, hence why there's a cut here. Just be warned though,, there's violence, one scene gets a little suggestive (nothing more than kissing happens though, soooo??), and I guess there's some drugging? Some weird aphrodisiac-like substance and a poison, used separately on different things

You'd been minding your own business, absentmindedly swishing your bare feet back and forth in the water as you laid on your back on the wooden dock, looking up at the canopy of trees that seemed to loom over you. The air was a pleasant temperature, not too warm, not too cold, as it drifted through the leaves, occasionally blowing an individual leaf loose and causing it to come fluttering down to the ground. As you listened to the sound of the leaves being caught by the gentle breeze, you let out a soft sigh. You'd been so stressed lately with life; between work and family, you'd felt as though you were dangerously close to snapping and committing murder. Not that you actually would, though.

You'd been so stressed lately with life that when you arrived here and settled down on the dock, you didn't register the pair of solid white sockets that watched your every move, calculating when to strike. 

A low growl in some nearby brush caught your attention and you immediately shifted your gaze to them, your brows furrowing; what the hell?... It sounded like it came from some sort of large predator, but the biggest predators that resided in this forest were the simple bobcats. Not even bears called this place their home. Sitting up, you pulled your feet out of the water and fumbled with your shoes and socks, scrambling to slip them on as the growling began to grow nearer and nearer. As soon as you'd successfully put your socks and shoes back on, you stood, narrowing your eyes slightly as you strained to see the shape that was huddled in the brush better. From where you currently stood, all you could see was black and white. Though... If you didn't know any better, you'd say it looked humanoid. How strange.

You took a small step toward the creature, and then a second, and then a third, but it remained almost perfectly still. Another growl made you freeze in place, though this was different from what you'd heard before. This growling sounded more like the sound your stomach would make whenever it called out for food. A pair of solid white sockets, entirely focused on you, narrowed slightly in what could've been considered joy, and you'd somehow edged close enough to be able to watch as a wide grin stretched across the creatures face, displaying a row of serrated, sharp teeth. And then the creature rose to his feet, tilting his head as he stared at you.

It was a skeleton, clad in a pair of baggy basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. His shirt, however... you frowned, your eyes locking on the vivid red that stained it. Right over where his sternum would be, there was a red blotch that resembled a hand print, and you felt your blood run cold. The skeleton watched your expression twist from confusion to fear, and he let out a raspy chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He then bared his teeth, still smiling widely as he asked, "Hey there, pal. You up for a game of tag?" You were lost for words, shaking your head as you stepped off the dock onto the earth, your eyes wide with fear. His body warped through the space between the two of you and he roughly grabbed your arm, digging his claws into your skin. You yelped as they broke the skin, your eyes watering up as he proceeded to lift your arm. He locked gazes with you as a deep teal tongue slipped past his maw, trailing up your arm and licking up a droplet of blood. Feeling yourself begin to tremble, you whimpered, your voice much weaker than normal, "P-Please... stop..." He licked a bit more of your blood up, his sockets hooded as he leaned even closer, his hot breath fanning over your face as he purred, "I'm it, ok? I'm gonna let you go and give you a ten second head start before I come after you. If I catch you, it's game over. Now," he released your arm, excitement flickering in his sockets, "run, human. Run as fast as you can." 

Feeling your heart jump up into your throat, you turned and began to run, hearing the skeleton burst into laughter as he watched you. In your frenzy, you abandoned the established path, running through the brush in a random direction and crying out as you felt thorns scratch at your exposed skin. Whatever it took to get away from that monster, you'd do it without regret.

Still running as fast as your legs would allow, you glanced back over your shoulder, not noticing rays of sunlight momentarily pass over something metallic. You put your foot down, hearing a click, and then you screamed, collapsing in pain as tears streamed down your face. You sobbed loudly, reaching down to pry at the "jaws" of the trap that'd clamped down on your leg just above your ankle, ignoring how the metal teeth sliced the skin of your fingers. Just as you felt the trap loosen a hair bit, your grip on it slipped, and you screamed again as it latched down on your leg, once more at full force. You let out a choked sob as you heard the brush begin the move nearby, a cry for help ripping from your lungs. This was it. This was how you'd die. The trap very clearly wasn't going to budge, and with even the smallest of movements, a searing pain ran up your leg, causing you to cry out in agony yet again. You curled in on yourself, trying to tune out the throbbing from your leg, and in doing so, you failed to see a second skeleton step out of the brush nearby. Upon seeing you on the ground, your entire body shaking as you sobbed loudly, he froze, letting out a long, low whistle, as if impressed on some level, "Oh dear."

Hearing a new voice, you bolted up from your current position, forcing yourself to stand as you faced him, whining loudly, "Please, help me. I need help, I don't wanna die." The new skeleton frowned, setting down the basket he was carrying and making his way over to you, "It's gonna be alright, I promise. I'm gonna lean down to open the trap, and I need you to hold onto me. Do you think you could do that for me, human?" You nodded, reaching out to the stranger and tightly grasping his shoulders as he squatted beside you, curling his phalanges around the jaws of the trap, and with what looked like no effort at all, opened it, freeing your leg. As he rose to his feet again, his grip was gentle yet firm as he wrapped an arm around you, tugging you flush against his side and sighing, "Here, I'll carry you. You're pretty badly hurt and I wouldn't wanna see you make the injury any worse." Despite not knowing this man, you nodded and gave your consent, wrapping your arms around his neck vertebrae as he lifted you, one arm supporting your back while the other was tucked under your knees. He then began to walk, one of his sockets going dark as the other flared up with cyan tinted magic, encasing his discarded basket and making the item begin to float. As he carried you, you lightly rested your head against his shoulder, looking up to admire the color of his magic. He kept his attention forward, pausing to glance back over his shoulder as a twig snapped, worry briefly crossing over his expression. He then stole a quick glance down at you, offering you a small smile, "Human, I need you to close your eyes, please." 

You wanted to ask why, but with the way your throat burned from your screaming and sobbing, you decided that questions could wait. You closed your eyes, and then you winced, feeling your stomach turn. Your head spun and for a brief moment, you felt as though static teased at your skin. Although you felt the skeleton shift you in his arms, you kept your eyes shut, waiting for the ok to open them again. Glancing around his small living room, the skeleton watched as his magic lowered his basket to rest on the coffee table and then faded from sight, breathing in deeply as he very delicately lowered you onto the sofa, his voice a mumble, "Alright... you can open your eyes now, friend." 

You slowly cracked open your eyes, your heart thudding harder at how close your companion now was to you, offering you a small smile again, "I apologize for that... I needed to use a shortcut to get here faster, where you'd be safe. The only problem is that the transition wouldn't have been pleasant for you, had you kept your eyes open." You nodded slowly, swallowing a lump in your throat as you tore your gaze from him and began to look around, your voice cracking, "W-Where are we?... What's a shortcut?" You looked back to him before continuing, "Who are you? Was that your trap I got caught in? What were you-" He pressed a single phalange over your lips to silence you, his expression softening, "This is my cottage, and a shortcut... well, let's see... it's like teleportation, essentially. To answer your other questions, my name is Valence Bandersnatch, but you're free to call me Val, if you'd like. And no, that wasn't my trap. Believe me, I wouldn't put a trap in such a place, if I had any. While I understand that you likely have many more questions for me, you need to take it easy now. I'm gonna heal up those injuries of yours, and then we can have some tea while we wait for that deranged maniac to pass by. He won't find you here, I promise. All you need to do is keep your voice down."

You nodded in understanding, watching Valence curiously as he lowered himself to his knees, gently moving your injured leg and holding a hand over where the trap had caught you. One of his sockets flared up with magic again, and more similarly colored magic surrounded his hand. As your injury began to rapidly heal, your eyes widened in a mix of shock and awe, your voice barely a whisper, "Whoa... that's so cool..." His cheekbones became flushed, a faint blush beginning to stain them as he smiled sheepishly, releasing your leg as it finished healing, "Thank you... I'm very happy you think so, human." He climbed up onto the couch beside you, holding his hand over the scratches on your arm. Your gaze followed his motions and you continued to watch in awe as the scratch healed before your eyes, just as they'd done before. 

His magic faded away and his second socket returned to normal, both irises present once more. Your gaze met his and it was silent for a moment, his multicolored, swirled eye lights captivating you. His faint blush darkened slightly and he cleared his throat, glancing away from you and sheepishly scratching the back of his skull, "I uh... how about I get us some cake and tea? The cake is fresh, just made this morning, and I can whip up a kettle of tea in no time at all." A soft blush teased at your own cheeks as you smiled softly, "As long as it wouldn't be a problem or anything, I'd really like that." The skeleton returned your smile and shook his head as he stood up, "Of course, it's not a problem. Not in the slightest," he paused, tilting his head and playfully winking at you, "especially not for a human as lovely as yourself." 

Your blush darkened a small bit and you looked away from him, trying to tune out the way he chuckled at having been successful at flustering you. As he turned and exited the room, you let out a deep breath that you weren't even aware you'd been holding; sure, you'd only just met Valence, but he was such a gentleman to you. He was so gentle and considerate, and his magic was beautiful. He was also quite attractive now that you thought about it. His smile gave you butterflies and his eyes (eye sockets?) were mesmerizing, and there's no way you could forget that sexy British accent he had. You blinked. Wait, what was happening right now? Were you seriously developing a crush on him? He was a stranger, but he'd also saved your life, too. As thoughts raced in your head, you failed to notice as he appeared in the doorway, a small plate in hand that held a fork and a piece of cake. Seeing that you were lost in thought, he briefly paused to admire the look on your face. Excitement bubbled up in his very soul, and he grinned to himself; he'd saved you once, but before the day was over, he'd save you yet again. 

He quickly rearranged his expression, his smile smaller and more genuine in appearance as he approached the couch and cleared his throat, gaining your attention as he offered you the slice of cake, "Here's your cake. The tea is almost ready, and I can bring it to you once it's done." You accepted the cake and couldn't help but smile at him again, "Ok... thanks Val. I really appreciate you doing all this for me." The skeleton waved off your words, nearly beaming at you as he returned your smile, "Oh, don't mention it. Anything for such a darling human." Your cheeks flushed again and your smile turned shy as you sheepishly refocused your attention on the piece of cake. Val was quick to vanish from the room again and you grasped your fork, slicing off a small bit of the cake and popping it into your mouth. As it hit your tongue, your eyes widened in pleasant surprise and you practically moaned at the flavor. It was perhaps the best cake you'd ever had in your entire life.

So not only was Val your savior that happened to be attractive and sweet, but he was also a great baker too. Talk about a catch.

You'd eaten about half of the slice before you began to notice the way heat coarsed through your body. You repressed a tiny mewl as it reached your core, causing you to press your thighs together. He wouldn't have done something to cake… would he?

As Val crossed into the living room again with two cups of tea, your scent invaded his senses and he inhaled deeply, nearly purring in delight. There were no words to describe how amazing you smelled right now, but it left him wanting to just... eat you right up.

He settled on the couch beside you, leaning forward to set the cups of tea on the coffee table, his sudden movement making you jolt in surprise as you looked up at him. He cleared his throat, offering you an apologetic smile, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." You shook your head and sighed, offering him a slight smile in return, "N-No, it's alright, don't worry about it, Val." Noticing the way you tried to be very subtle with your squirming, he feigned concern, frowning, "Are you alright, human? You're all red, and you don't look so good." Shaking your head, you hummed, "Nah, I'm ok... just a little warm, that's all."

To your confusion, he swiped your piece of half eaten cake from you, setting the plate beside your cup of tea before gently capturing your jaw, making you unable to turn away from him. Lifting his free hand, he delicately rested it on your forehead, as if checking to see if you'd caught a fever. With him being in such close proximity, you fought the urge to kiss him. Sure, you just met him, but in your current state, kissing him felt like something that needed to be done. He hummed, sliding his hand from your forehead to your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he met your gaze. That was what destroyed your last bit of self restraint. Without a warning, you leaned closer, pressing your lips to his teeth and kissing him. As expected, he momentarily tensed in shock, but then to your utter delight, he began to kiss you back. It wasn't long before his teeth coaxed apart your lips, allowing his cyan tongue to pass through and greet yours. 

As the kiss grew more heated, you whined, fisting at his shirt and fumbling with the buttons on his vest. You'd managed to undo maybe half a dozen before he broke the kiss, letting you catch your breath. While you watched him, your eyes clouded with obvious lust, he reached out, lifting one of the cups of tea and offering it to you, his slightly hushed voice now holding a husky edge, "Drink, darling. It'll help you cool down." You whined, squirming in your seat as you caught the tone he spoke to you in, "B-But Val... please. I need you-" Grinning shamelessly at you, he chuckled, leaning closer to peck your lips, "And you can have me. Drink some of your tea first though." Though you would've liked for him to forget about the tea and take you right there on his couch, you nodded slowly, almost pouting as you accepted the drink. 

Raising the cup to your lips, you took a sip, your eyebrows raising in surprise. Once again, you'd not expected the flavor of what he'd handed you. Humming in curiosity, you glanced up at Valence, "What kinda tea is this?... It's really good, Val." The skeleton watched you as you took another sip of your beverage, "Golden Flower." Blinking, a realization hit you and you raised an eyebrow, visibly interested, "Wait.... as in 'Golden Flower Tea'? The tea that Asgore supposedly loves?" He hummed in confirmation, "Exactly so. I'll say, I'm a little surprised you know about that old goat and his tea preferences." You smiled bashfully, shrugging and taking another sip, "Well... yeah. When the monsters came to the surface, I did my research. I wanted to learn what I could, y'know?" 

He nodded in understanding and offered you a playful grin, "So you're a bit of a nerd then, it seems." You rolled your eyes, lips still curled into a smile as you flicked your tongue at him, "Yeah, maybe I am. Is there a problem with that, mister?" You made sure to make it clear you were only teasing, and in response, Valence laughed softly, "No, no. Of course not. For a nerd, you're actually really cute." Your cheeks immediately gained a bright blush and you squirmed in your seat, smiling sheepishly again. He watched you quietly for a moment, allowing you to continue enjoying your drink before he spoke again, still smiling slightly, "If you read about Asgore and his love of Golden Flower Tea, I wonder... did you happen to read anything about what the tea is made from?" You hummed, tilting your head and nodding, "Mhm. Isn't it made from the seeds and stems of Golden Flowers?" The skeleton nodded, arching a brow bone as his grin suddenly became mischievous, "And did you learn about what'd happen if the petals were used, too?" You paused, furrowing your brows, "Doesn't it become poisonous?..."

Something flickered in his sockets and he purred in satisfaction, "Right on, Cutie." You opened your mouth to question him but froze, pressing a hand over your mouth as you began to cough violently. You reached out, intending to place your cup on the coffee table, but both of your arms went limp, causing you to drop your cup and spill what was left of the tea on the floor. Unable to force your body to cooperate, you slouched to the slide, now leaning against Val. He sighed, feigning a look of concern again as he tsked, reaching into the breast pocket on his vest and withdrawing a handkerchief, lightly dabbing it along your mouth as he hummed, "My my, look at you... you're making quite a mess of yourself, you know." As he pulled the handkerchief away from your mouth, you glanced down, your eyes widening in fear and beginning to water up as you took notice of the red that now stained it. Unable to lift your head to even look at Valence properly, you whimpered, a tear rolling down your cheek, "W-Why, Val?... Why would you do this to me?..."

The skeleton hummed, merely smiling at you, "Because I'm a little overdue on paying my debt to the lovely family of lake dwellers that have allowed me to live on their land." Your voice cracked, and you tried your best to force back the impending need to cough again, "Y... You're using me to pay off a debt?" In a much too cheerful tone, the skeleton monster gave you confirmation, "Pretty much, yeah. Don't take it personally though, ok? I like you. If I didn't, I would've killed you sooner, and I wouldn't have been so nice about it." 

Your eyelids began to feel heavy and you croaked, "How does killing me pay off that debt?" He merely smiled, lightly cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb, "They're a bunch of human eaters." Your mind replayed the look that the first skeleton you encountered had worn and a chill ran through you, "But the tea... It'll poison them too." He chuckled, lowering his voice to a murmur, "No it won't, silly. It doesn't affect monsters the way it does humans. Guess you didn't get the memo, huh?" You felt yourself break, letting out faint sobs as you tried to look away from him. Reading your expression, he sighed, "Come here, darling. Let me ease your suffering a bit." You wanted to shove him away and scream, tell him to get lost, but as the world began to fade away before you, the last thing you felt was his teeth against your lips

[hopeless-lovex0]

I HAVE A DREAM (PART 18)

( San Ending )

Kim Hongjoong Fanfic

Warning: Angst. Cheating. Heartbreak. Cursing. Fluff.

Alas we are on the Finale of I Have A Dream!!! I honestly loved writing this story so much and I’m incredibly happy and thankful that people actually took time to read it so this final chapter goes out to everyone who has liked, shared or read in general I Have A Dream ❤️ Without further ado I hope you guys enjoy the option of choosing your own ending, I hope you guys enjoyed I Have A Dream. With much love Lizzie x 🥰❤️

        Taking care of a 3 week old baby was sure a hard task, the loud wails of the little one resonating around the dimly lit apartment. Y/N was glad that Youngji decided to stay over at his friends house, or else she knew he would have a hard time falling asleep with Jongho making so much noise. It's not that Youngji minded, if anything he would be the first one up in the middle of the night feeding Jongho if Y/N was too tired, he would also help change him if Y/N was busy with something else.

     Y/N was extremely grateful for her brother, Youngji always cuddling Jongho the best he could, also taking great care of Y/N when she felt like the constant hours of sleep she lost where taking a tool on her body. Youngji loved his sister very much, he also loved his nephew Jongho as well, but even he felt like he was doing so little to help her.

     So he took matter into his own hands and requested help from someone he knew would never think about saying no, especially when it came to his sister and the recent family addition. San was more than willing to help Y/N around the apartment, constantly dotting over her and Jongho if they ever needed something. He didn't seem to mind either, helping Y/N with Jongho with a big smile on his face, Youngji swears he even heard San whispers Dad of the year to himself while he was carefully changing Jongho's dirty onesie.

     Y/N felt like they were doing too much, the guys constantly following right behind her, eager to help and it made her feel like she was taking advantage of San's sweet nature and her brother's overprotective actions. She wanted to learn and grow as a mother by herself, but now more than ever did she miss the extra pair of hands helping lull Jongho to sleep.

     The circular clock hanging over the kitchen entrance read 2:47 AM, Jongho first started crying around 12. It was nearing the third hour and Y/N had only managed to subside his desperate cries just a little. She had tried everything she could think of, he wasn't hungry as he rejected being breastfed, he also didn't need a diaper change as Y/N had checked more than 3 times.

     Y/N could slowly feel herself crack as the minutes ticked by, swaying her body and humming under her breath to help Jongho sleep but he just kept on crying. " Please baby... Just go to sleep! I dont know what's wrong.." Y/N whispered to Jongho, feeling tears well up in her sunken eyes as she struggled to help her baby calm down.

     The sudden knock on the door snapped her attention from her crying new born, anxiety shooting off the roof when she thinks about her brother's neighbors coming over and complaining about the noise. Walking up to the door with a crying baby in her arms, Y/N begins to give herself a little pep talk, fully preparing herself to see her brother's angry bald neighbor in his pijamas screaming at her for the noise.

     Opening the door, she expected the bald neighbor to start complaining but to her surprised a panting, what appered to be a freshly showered San was hunched right in front of her at 3 in the morning. Y/N gaped at him as he quickly stood straight and walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him then turning back towards Y/N, greeting her with a sheepish smile.

     " Wha.. What are you doing here..?" Y/N questions, standing there with a dumbstruck look on her face. " Youngji texted me saying that you might be having some trouble putting Jongho to sleep so I decided to come and help." San explains, as if its the most simple thing in the world for him to appear in the middle of the night, especially when he was an idol. " Why do you say that so casually?! Won't you get in trouble with the manager? What about your schedule for tomorrow! You need to go back!" She begins to panic, causing Jongho's cries to grow in volume again.

     San then takes a moment to actually study Y/N closely, her pijamas wrinkled as if she got out of bed in a rush, face pale and eyes sucken with dark bags under them to show the lack of sleep she has been getting. Walking up to her, he gently takes Jongho out of Y/N's arms and then takes one of her hands, leading them towards Y/N's room where Jongho's crib is placed. Y/N can't help but gasp out in surprise, the moment Jongho was taken from her arms and placed on San's muscular ones Jongho loud cries had gone down from loud wailing to quiet whimpers.

     " How did you...?" She begins to question before her voice dies off, Jongho now completely quiet as he continues to snuggle in San's arms. " I don't know how you do that." She sighs out, throwing herself on her bed and letting San deal with Jongho as he seems to be doing better than her.

     " Do what? Get him to quiet down?" He questions, Y/N humming back at him in response. " I really don't know.. Maybe we formed a bond the minute he was born." He smugly says, causing Y/N to snort out in annoyence. " I'm his mother and I can't even get him to sleep, what kind of mother can't even put her baby to sleep." Y/N whispers out, face twisted in a frown when she talks about her lack of knowledge on her own flesh and blood.

     San seems to notice her negative attitude towards herself, sitting himself down by Y/N's head, bringing his hand up and flicking her forehead. Y/N jumps up, bringing her hands up and wincing in pain as she begins to rub the red spot appering on her skin. " What was that for!!!" Y/N harshly whispers at him, glaring at him for his sudden action. " You don't give yourself enough credit." San tells her, Y/N saying huh in confusion.

     " There's so many things that you do for this little guy. He finds so much comfort in you and you don’t seem to notice just how much you do for him. You're not a bad mother just because you can't seem to get him to sleep, it'll happen once in a while." San finishes off, patting Y/N's head as she listens to San compliment her. " How do you know what to say too! Like I swear it's like we've been together for years." Y/N whines out, causing San to blush at her words though she doesn't seem to notice as her eyes begin to drop.

     " Go to sleep idiot, I can tell Jongho has been keeping you up and it's not healthy to deprive yourself of sleep." He says, getting up from the bed and pulling the covers off so that Y/N can slip in easier. " What about you? I can't just leave you to deal with Jongho all by yourself." Y/N slurs out, already feeling herself falling into a deep sleep.

     " I'll wait till he's completely asleep, and then head out. Don't worry, I don't mind taking care of him at all." He says, although he doesn't think Y/N caught all of it as she seems to be out like light before he's able to finish talking. Shaking his head, he lets out a chuckle and turns his attention to Jongho currently knocked out on his chest. " You and your mommy are just alike huh? But still.. I wouldn't have it any other way." He whispers to Jongho, placing a small kiss on the baby's peach fuzz head.

     Walking up to the crib next to the bed, he carefully places Jongho inside it then waits a couple minutes in case he suddenly wakes up crying. Once he knows that Jongho is not going to wake up, he walks towards Y/N and makes sure that she is comfortably tucked in. He softly tucks away some hairs behind her ear, showing her content expression, he feels his stomach burst with billions of butterflies. A loving smile appears on his face without him noticing, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead. " You are a great mother, but on the day's where everyhting doens't seem to work out.. I'll be there to pick you up." He whispers out, staring at Y/N for a couple more seconds before finally walkingout the room and towards the entrance, making usre that the door is properly locked he leaves the apartment with a happy smile on his face.

                                         . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

     Loud screaming coming from the hallway outside of San's and Yunho's room wakes him up, an annoyed expression coming upon his face when he realizes that it's Wooyoung and Mingi that are screaming their lungs out. Turning over his bed, he squints his eyes against the sunlight pouring in through the windows of his room. He can't really tell what time it is, so he decides to check his phone, the device laying on the floor next to his bed.

     Grabbing the fully charged phone, he notices a message from his manager on their group chat, Hongjoong and Seonghwa having answered for the rest of the guys. No practice today, day off. Please, if you plan to go out wear face masks. Don't burn the dorm down and don't kill each other. We need everyone present for schedule. It reads, the rest of the guys apperantly already knowing from how loud they are at 8 in the morning.

     Letting out a groan, San begins to wiggle himself out the bed before finally feeling his body drop on the cold wood floor. The covers that dropped on top of his body helping him feel some warmth as the bitter cold of the floor seeps into his pijama covered body. He stays on the floor for a couple minutes, listening to all the ruckus going on behind the bedroom door, occasionaly hearing Yeosang’s soft spoken voice and Seonghwa's scolding coming from further in the dorm towards the kitchen area.

     Finally after what seems like an eternity, San reaches into the drawer next to his bed and begins to take out an outfit for the day, not sure if he should go for classy or more casual. He thinks about the various options he has to choose from, what's the point of dressing classy if I'm not doing anything big today. He thinks, moving aside various pairs of jeans and instead taking out a pair of joggers, along with a random t-shirt.

     Standing up, he walks up Yunho's side of the room and takes his hat hanging from a hook connected to the wall. Quickly getting dressed, he walks up to the door and throws it open, standing face to face with Wooyoung and Mingi as they seem to stop their fighting. " Seonghwa-Hyung send us to wake you up but since you are already up then we should tell you that he plans on giving Yunho your breakfast if you don't hurry up." Mingi says, pushing Wooyoung's face away when the dancer begins to tickle the friendly giant.

     Knowing that Seonghwa doesn't bluff, San pushes through them and runs towards the kitchen screaming Yunho's name as he sees the other giant taking small pieces from San's food. Running up to the middle island, he quickly snatches the bowl of food away from Yunho's prying hands, glaring at him when he notices that he was almost halfway done with the bowl. Grumbling under his breath, he begins to eat what is left of his food, missing the look of amusement Seonghwa is giving him, his lean but built body leaning against the kitchen countertop.

     " What are you doing today?" Seonghwa asks San as he continues to wolf down his food, scrunching up his face in disgust from the way San seems to swallow his food all at once. San stays quiet for a couple seconds, giving Seonghwa's questions some thought. Where should I go today? Maybe I can go to the mall with some of the guys? But I want to see Y/N and Jongho again.. Last night was way to short, and I didn't even get to play with Jongho. San thinks to himself, so many things he could do today or how many hours of sleep he could finally get, all of them sounding amazing, but in the end it all comes down to one thing (or in his case 2 people).

     " I'm gonna hang out with Y/N today." He says, struggling to get the words out with all the food stuffed inside his mouth. " Swallow your food before you choke, and didn't you see Y/N last night when we got out of pratice?" Seonghwa asks him, turning around and beginning to wash the mountain of dishes they used to make eachother breakfast that morning. Getting up from his chair, San scarffs down the last of his food before putting the plate in the sink, giving Seonghwa a sheepish smile when the older male gives him a nasty glare. " Barely, Jongho was up all night apperently and she couldn't put him to sleep, so I helped her and then a couple minutes after she fell asleep so I didn't really get to talk to her." Explains San, taking a glass cup from the cabinet over his head and filling it with the last bit of orange juice some of the guys left out.

     " Poor Y/N, I can tell she's having a hard time adjusting to being a mother, but I'm glad you and Youngji are doing your best to help her." Yunho butts in, walking up to San and taking his glass from him, Seonghwa hums in agreement. " Yeah I agree with you. So If you are visiting Y/N, Don't forget to wear a face mask so people don’t recognize you and tell Y/N that we'll all visit her soon when we have another day off." Seonghwa says, taking the empty glass from Yunho and washing it before they decide to leave it there throughout the rest of the day.

     Giving Seonghwa a thumbs up, San runs to his shared room and throws the door open, yelping in surprise when he notices Wooyoung chilling on his bed. " Hey Sannie! What are you doing today? I wanted to buy some new shoes but I don't want to go alone." Wooyoung says, taking one of San's plushies and hugging it close to himself as he watches San take out a pair of socks and shoving them on his feet. " Hey Woo, I actually have plans already. I'm gonna go see Y/N and Jongho since it was way too late last night and they were both tired." San tells him, walking over to his bed and grabbing his bookbag where his wallet and dorm keys are stashed away.

     " That's cool, I'll probably ask Yeosang to come with me instead. Also I see you are climbing up the ladder slowly, but surely am I right." Wooyoung teases, giggling to himself as he sees the deadpan look San give him in return. " You deserve to get your phone thrown out the window for saying that." San mumbles out, busying himself with other things as he tries to ignore Wooyoung’s loud squeaky laugh.

     " I'm just joking around! Plus what I said was true. I see that you are trying your hardest to get her to like you, and no offense with how much you are doing for her, it'll be pretty bogus if she doesn't choose you in the end." Wooyoung tells him, causing San to stop in his tracks and sigh out. " Whoever she chooses in the end, either way it won't stop me from loving her and doing whatever I can to get her to realize that I can treat her so much better." San finishes off, walking back to the door and exiting with a small wave directed to his loud but nonetheless amazing friend.

     He hears Wooyoung yell out a goodbye, snickering to himself when he hears the oldest of the dorm scream at him to shut up. As he walks up to the main entrance he feels the piercing gaze of someone in the living room, chills crepping up his spine when the feeling of being stared at doesn't go away. Turning towards the living room entryway he scans his eyes around the area, his sharp eyes landing on Ateez's leader. The male staring at San with an unreadable expression on his face, fidgeting in his seat as if he is ready to jump off the couch any minute.

     Deciding to ignore him, San walks up to the shoe rack and grabs his worn out adidas shoes, slipping them on without a hassle before grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. Digging in his pockets he takes out a black face mask and slips it on, arm reaching towards the handle before a very distraught voice screams out his name causing him to stop in his tracks. Turning around, the last thing he expects to see is a shaking Hongjoong deeply bowing his head to him, face practically almost touching the floor from how deeply he is bowing.

     San stares at him in shock, turning towards the rest of the guys as they seemed to gone quiet the moment Hongjoong screamed San's name. He gives them a confused look, the guys shrugging their shoulders letting him know that they also don't know what's going on. " Uhhh... What are you doing?" Questions San, yelping out when Hongjoong suddenly stands back up rapidly. " Please take good care of them." Hongjoong's voice resonates throughout the dorm, everyone else quiet as they watch the scene in front of them.

     San is about to question him, but instead gets cut off by Hongjoong's trembling voice. " Y/N and Jongho. I know my chance with Y/N ended when I decided to cheat, so I ask you to please take care of them for me. Jongho needs a good father to raise him, and Y/N needs a good man who will love her better than I could. That man is you." Hongjoong finishes off, harshly wiping away tears from his face as he holds intense eye contact with San. Walking up to him, San pulls Hongjoong in for a hug surprising not only the male currently being forced in a hug but the rest of the guys watching them from the living room and the hallway.

     " Y/N already sees you as Jongho's father so don't give me all the credit. I will take good care of them, so you don't need to worry." San says, pulling away from him and patting him on the shoulder, Hongjoong giving him a small smile in thanks. Again turning around, he makes his way over to the door and opens it, yelling out a goodbye to the rest of the guys.

     The walk to Youngji's apartment doesn't last that long, and before he knows it, he is standing in front of the same door he was standing in front of just last night. Knocking on it, he waits a couple minutes before the door creaks open, Y/N standing on the other side of it seemingly more awake than last night. They greet each other warmly, Y/N fully opening the door to let the idol in and then quickly closing it so that none of Youngji's neighbors come out of their apartments and try sneaking a look into her brothers.

     " Where's Youngji? I noticed he wasn't here last night as well." San questions, walking up to the Jongho's cradling bouncer and picking him up, the new born snuggling onto his warm chest without a fuss. " He stayed at a friends house last night since he got out work late and he didn't want to risk waking Jongho up but as you can tell from last night, he wasn't exactly sleeping." Y/N answers back from her room, voice sounding muffled due to her room being all the way down the hall. She comes back dressed in a pair of black leggings and a loose maroon blouse, cooing to herself when she sees Jongho snuggling San's chest.

     They both stand together in silence, Y/N drinking water from a glass cup while staring at San and her baby, San staring at Jongho with a loving look. Sensing her staring, San lifts up his head and stares right back at Y/N causing her to squeak in embarassment. She turns her head away, blushing bright red when she hears San let out a deep chuckle causing Jongho to wake up from his little nap. Y/N prepares herself for the loud cries of her baby to pierce the quiet setting of the apartment but instead stares in awe when she notices that he instead stares at San in wonder.

     San makes faces at the baby, causing him to let out little giggles in amusement. Y/N can help but silently swoon at the sight in front of her, she can't help but think that San would make a great father someday. With that thought, her mind begins to drift to various other scenarios of which include San with his own child or better yet, Jongho calling him dad. She thinks back to that day in the hospital when Hongjoong called her out on her feelings for San, and she won't lie that what he said isn't true because it is. Ever since that day when Y/N found San on the dirt road with a sprained ankle, she began to develop feelings for the dimpled man.

     All those times he would help her carry bags, bodies brushing against each other causing Y/N's heart rate to spike. She blamed it all on the pregnancy hormones but after her talk with Hongjoong she finally got some time to sit down and think, I really do like him. She is afraid though, the thought of being in a relationship scares her. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he decides to leave me for someone better? I can't even begin to imagine the pain I would feel if that were to happen again, and now I have a child. I can't be weak! I have to be strong for my baby. She thinks, turning her body away from the scene in front of her so that San won't be able to see her unhappy expression.

     San seemed to sense her sudden attitude change, puts Jongho back on his bouncer then walks up to Y/N taking her soft hands in his own. " What's wrong?" He asks her, grabbing her chin and turning her face towards his so that she'll look at him instead. Knowing that she can't lie to save her life, she decided to fess up sighing out when she thinks about what he'll say to her.

     " Do you... Do you think I could ever get back in a relationship with someone? Like do you think someone would be willing to date a single mother?" She questions, keeping her eyes down so that he won't see the doubt swimming in her eyes. " Who wouldn't want to be in a relationship with you? You are so amazing Y/N and you fail to see that, If someone doesn't want to be with you because you have an adorable, incredible baby then it's their loss!" San tells her, making sure to keep eye contact with her so she knows that he's telling the truth.

     They stare into each others eyes for what seems like an eternity, both of them flushing in embarressment when they notice just how close their faces were. " You once told me you had a dream to have a family of your own. A loving husband and two kids that you could spoil the heck out of. Don't let that dream leave your mind just because Hongjoong cheated on you, It was his mistake not yours. Anyone would be lucky to have you.. I would be lucky to have you.." San whispers out the last bit, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he rubs the back of his neck in nervousness.

     He whips his head towards Y/N when her hears her let out a gasp, knowing that she probably heard what he said last. Y/N feels her head start to spin, body warming up when she replays San's words in her head, Don't let Hongjoong's actions affect your future Y/N! It's now or never! Y/N thinks to herself, fist curling up causing her knuckles to turn white.

     " I.... I LIKE YOU SAN..." Y/N says, walking away right after so that if San rejects her she won't be able to see it. She failed to see the blush covering San's entire face, his ears and cheeks burning up from the shock and disbelief he was experiencing in that moment. He feels the way his heart is rapidly racing and he hopes that Y/N isn't able to hear how loud it is, but as he turns around he sees that she's distractic herself with Jongho, checking his diaper in case he needed to be changed even thought she had chaged him an hour ago.

     He studies her for a couple seconds to see if what she said is true, and from the way she's acting extremely shy he can at least begin to think that YN might like him back. He begins to laugh quietly to himself, Y/N staring at him with wide eyes as his laughing progressively grows louder. Scurrying over to Y/N he pullls her in for a hug, Y/N having to steady herself as she's pratically lifted off the floor.

     She feels San's big grin from where he shoved his face between her neck, letting out various giggles as he swings Y/N around making sure that he doesn't hurt her or Jongho by accident. " Do you mean it..?" He whispers out, placing Y/N back down on the ground and putting his hands on her waist as he waits for her to answer him. " I.. I do., I found out a couple days after I left the hospital. I was just to scared to tell you." She says, keeping eye contact with him as best as she can without getting flustered. " You don't have to be scared.. I won't ever hurt you or Jongho, I'll get the guys to beat me up if I ever do." San laughs out, reaching forwards and tucking some hairs behind Y/N's ear as he continues to gaze lovingly at her. " So does this mean you'll give me a chance..?" He continues, nervously playing with her hair as she looks between him and Jongho napping a couple feet away.

     She remains quiet for a couple seconds before a smile begins to appear on her face, growing wider and wider as her grip around San grows tighter. ".. Yes.." She whispers out, bringing San in for a small kiss, pulling away when they hear Jongho begin to whine from the lack of attention. They both giggle out, San reaching down and placing another short kiss on Y/N's soft lips before pulling away and attending to his baby.

                           1 year and a couple months later....

     San wakes to a sudden disturbance on the bed, quiet giggling following the sudden movements coming from the right side of the bed, where Y/N usually sleeps. Pulling the covers away from his face, he peeks his eyes over the side of the bed, spotting a small toddler trying to jump on the bed. Throwing the covers away from him, he quickly reaches his arms over and picks up the squealing toddler, throwing himself back into the warm bed with a giggling boy in his arms.

     " Where's mommy?" San asks Jongho as he begins to tickle the squirming toddler, Jongho pointing at the hallway leading up to the main area of the apartment. Getting up from the bed, he scoops Jongho into his arms and exits the main room, making faces at Jongho as he walks towards the kitchen where Y/N is currently making breakfast. Putting Jongho down, the toddler runs up to his toys spraddled all over the living room floor. He walks up to an oblivious Y/N, swaying to a tune she's humming as she continues to cook some eggs and pancakes for breakfast.

     He snakes his hands on her waist, pulling her up to his body as he gives her exposed shoulder a kiss. He feels Y/N jump and then shudder, the feeling of his lips on her exposed skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Turning around Y/N slips her arms over his neck, hugging San close to her as he begins to pepper her face with kisses, they both turn their attention to Jongho when he screams out at them. Jongho runs up to San and begins to jump up and down, pounting his lips from the lack of attention he is getting.

     Pulling away from Y/N, San leans down and picks up a whining Jongho, attacking him with kisses as well. Jongho begins to giggle again, throwing his hands up and pushing San's face away from his. " No daddy!" The toddler screams out, San's heart swelling with love when he hears Jongho call him dad. " Let's eat breakfast buddy." San tells him, walking up to the dining chair and placing Jongho in it.

     He walks up to one of the cabinets and takes out two ceramic plates and a colorful plactic plate for Jongho, walking up to the stove and placing the food on the plates. He watches as Y/N fills up two glasses with orange juice, then filling Jongho's sippy cup with warm milk, the toddler greedily sipping from it. Both adults sit down to eat as well, San keeping close watch on Y/N as she begins to eat slowly. " Do you think it's a stomach bug? We did eat sushi the other day and I swear it tasted funny." San tells her, worried for his girlfriend who has been throwing up for the past week.

     " Actually I know what it is." Y/N mumbles out, picking at her food as San looks at her in confusion. " Why don't you go check the drawer next to our bed. I have something for you in there." She tells him, watching as San hesitantly gets up and makes him way back to their shared bedroom. Y/N busy's herself with cleaning the food all over Jongho's face before hearing a shout come from their bedroom.

     Thundering footsteps run back to the kitchen, San popping out from the corner holding 4 sticks in his hand. His face shows pure shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish, Jongho pointing at him and giggling in amusement. " Are you playing with me?!" San asks her, walking up to her and shoving the sticks on her face, she gives him a small smile and shakes her head. " I have an appointment next week to make sure, but no I'm not playing with you." Y/N tells him, taking the pregnancy tests from his hands and placing them on the kitchen counter.

     " You're pregnant.." San breathes out, pulling Y/N towards him and placing one of his hands on her flat belly. Y/N nods at him, San finally letting his excitement show as he practically starts to jump around the kitchen. He hears Y/N and Jongho giggling together and he immediately turns towards the toddler and picks him up, spinning him around with him while telling him " You're gonna be a big brother Jongho! You're gonna have a brother or a sister." San excitedly tells him, Jongho cheering out even though he doesn't know what going on.

     Walking up to Y/N he pulls her for a hug, Jongho stuck in the middle enjoying the hug both parents are giving him.

     " Thank you.. Thank you for making me a father again, I love you." San whispers out, pulling in Y/N for a kiss placing a kiss on Jongho's head when he whines out. Y/N giggles to herself, giving Jongho a kiss as well then pulling San in for another.

     " I love you.. I love our little family." She tells him, tearing up when she thinks about having another baby with San. San beams at her in return, content with life as he thinks to himself.

     She had a dream to have a family of her own, A loving husband and two kids that she can spoils to no ends, and even though we are not married yet, I plan on making her mine forever soon. He thinks back to the velvet box carefully hidden under all his clothes. He can't wait to marry this girl, and live together in their own little house.

              Their own little family...

[huadie]

anchor liveblog post.

the curse of prophecy: all of my high tier kins channel tmg.

" somebody’s gonna get hurt / i hope it’s not me / but i suspect it’s going to have to be.

---

episodes 1-3: the general doesn't deserve the sympathy he gets. i'm not excusing a woman who killed happy girls on their wedding days, but i do think he owed her that closure. sending his son just pits the burden onto someone who wasn't involved. he should look his failures and mistakes in the eyes. if you can't count on a god to do that, who can you expect it of? it's disgusting. / i feel so tired and sorry for the girl who died saving a man who hated her and hurt her friend. i don't think kind people should be on the hook for ignorance and spite so willingly. her life for his was an unfair trade. / He's Cute. and wildly unexpectedly gentle considering the whole "demon" thing. / b tells me i'll have kin ptsd about the face disorder, but right now it's just heartbreaking. nobody deserves to live with that kind of fear. nobody deserves to live with that kind of pain. / b also implies someone in heaven is doing it to them for fun and i just want to say right now that i'm going to pull his dick off thru his mouth. that's a tier of evil that should have your blood start boiling inside you in an attempt to disinfect it. that was a child. that was just a scared little boy. not a prop or a toy or a plot device. a child. / i like the baby generals. they are so nineteen but it's nice to see it. i know anime leans on comedy skits a lot, but they can carry it off. they're charming. / heaven looks a bit shit. all of that meditation and betterment and it just makes you a spineless politician with the power to airbend? christ on a bike.

---

episode 4-5: initial reactions. watching him swing between fuck-me eyes and genuine emotional distress at no signal i can see is a lot. he's a good painter. i think i get the gist of where he's coming from but it feels insane to me. the twitch duels were cute. he clearly cares a lot more than he enjoys devilry so it's insane to me that he's that strong. general jr destroys me. imagine being so pompous and negligent you'd give your child your name. has he ever been allowed to be his own person? meow meow etc. the face disease is horrific. he was just a kid. he was so scared and in pain. i like the temple. i like that it's raggedy and messy. maybe it should be over-repaired, so people in need can take from it? it's definitely not very reverant, but. gods should serve their people. quotes all of small gods here etc. they should want to serve their people. they should be happy to see their temples valued below human life. it would be nice to live in a ghibli film forever, and read books and cook warm food and paint.

episodes ???. thoughts said out loud. gods own their people. thousands, one, here and now you are alive. gods are owned by their people. it's a cage. it's the most beautiful cage possible. to feed starving people from your hands. the bread and the fishes cut out of you. to give and give and give, to be asked for things you have never had and give them next. each prayer should strip you to the bone. can you imagine? to be so trusted, so cared for, so beloved, so followed, to have so much given to you freely and happily. a live lived to save others is the only beautiful thing. the only beautiful thing! a god should be owned by each of their believers individually. selfishly and shallowly and demandingly. like a child needs you. the power to put a fish back in the water is a blessing so heavy thinking about being created for it should make you wail. to be - for people, for the birds and the trees and the fish too, but for the people. it should break your heart. you should never let it become monotone. sunlight into wine.

on love: i trust b. i trust b. to love him here like this and love him in this skin and then find him again in a book and on a screen and fall in love with him there too, to watch myself fall in love with him too. nobody has ever earned what he freely gives. i want to give it back. oxygen to dioxide, i want to find all the places he stands and pour it back into him. i want to show him how beautiful he is. to love someone like that is a miracle and i want to pull it apart. i want to make him familiar with me and bored of me, i want him to wake up each morning taking me for granted, i want him to be so safe and secure in his place in my heart that it stops being a gift. that it wears down and falls apart. the velveteen rabbit. i want to hold him in my hands like a bubble that hasn't popped and i want to use him like the doorway to a world where even if i had to hurt and be hurt and fall and learn to grow, i can come home at the end of it. my growth can mean something, my stronger back can bear more weight, my lessons can be shared. i want it to mean something. i want to have faith in myself again. in the resurrected kingdom of his arms i can find it - build it. i can come home. it can have turned to gold while i did not see it. it can have worth, i can have worth, i can bend and not break. i can have a claim on things without losing them, without it cursing them. just him. i'm not greedy, i'm not selfish, so please - just him.

episode 6: there's something that hurts about letting other people see what you'll tolerate. what you'll do. the places in your life where you have pathetic history and where you are attempting to be someone who only existed today grinding against one another. i know he knows. i know it isn't a stolen moment, a chance to decide how i exist to someone before they decide it for me. i sleep beneath that painting and whenever i wake up in the night i feel him pretend that he is asleep. i know. i know. but it could have - it could have been. it could have been a lie that i got to play with. a tiny self indulgence. aren't you tired of stars? aren't you tired of being the tree that cannot bend in a storm? of holding yourself down? everyone else does it so easily. everyone else lets go. everyone else knows how. if i can't learn then i want to pretend. i want to be unwanted, and - and meet people. by chance, just chance, and like them and have them like me. no promises i made before i learned i couldn't keep them. just... something smaller. i talked about multiverse theory. how it isn't in the coin flip, but the atoms of the coin. how in one dot you can know everything. every grain of sand in a desert. i cannot survive existing with people thinking of me. not well and not poorly. i want to disappear into it. maybe nobody else is obligated to finish the work. maybe their contributions are a blessing. but i can't... learn how to let it go. it's all i have left in me that i recognize, somedays, as it gathers dust and makes me sick to breathe around. what am i if i am not that? i want to know. i'm scared to know. i will never be allowed to find out.

on being loved: god. it is too much. i don't hate it. it doesn't disgust me. but i feel like a plate being washed in every inch of the sea before i am allowed to see dry land again. i feel like i won't survive it if i look at it because it is a mosque decorated in mirrors, because it is mathematically perfect, because it holds the tiny miracles of angles and existence and light on par with the miracles of human heart and existence, because to make at all is to change the world for the first time, because i do not want to see what it reflects. i do not want to see it. i would be better if it lied to itself, if it was delusional and selfish and obsessed with smoke tricks. if it saw silk and paint and stopped looking. i don't want to know what i look like with my hair down, with my face clean, with my feet dirty, with my hands raw - i don't want to see what it sees to know that it loves there too. i don't want to follow it. i don't know how to make it stop. how could i - how could anyone be held accountable for this? to this? to prayers and plans and a kindness that changes the world in every grain of sand it has and again the next second, how could anything be worth this? and if it could - it couldn't be me. not a collection of stupid wishes and failures and betrayals-by-failure. not me with my hair down. silk could be worth this.

on being loved now that it isn't the middle of the night, and my body isn't betraying us both, and i can remember that there are an infinite number of steps between 0 and 1: but really, it's just ink. just paper. if it's - if he. if it's everything. if it's everything. then it can be one thing. it can be this thing. it can be the blindness. it can be me with my own hands over my own eyes like a shutterbox pretending i don't know how to see myself and admit that the pea beneath my mattress only hurts me - that it's small, to him, that it isn't sharp, that it's a phantom limb i can't stop being tormented by and only ever that. can that be enough to start? can i let it? it's atoms again. grains of sand. if he can love this, he can love everything. if i can see this, the rest falls away. there are more universes where we are kissing than every atom from the start to the end of time. that's how it works. i'm going in circles. you don't mind, do you? i'm writing this for you. you're the only person reading this. i don't know why i'm being impersonal about you when i'm being possessive about me. it won't protect me. it won't make it less terrifying to think of, and it won't make it less painful for you to read. i know you're already mad at yourself for being too much. for making me think that it's too much. you're kind to me like that, even when things are my fault. but if we can sit here together, and i can know that you know i can't imagine being loved, and that that - that moment, that dot, me unable to count to the place where numbers end - is something you love too. if i can just see this one moment, and not doubt it or question it or be afraid of it. it can be enough. because you know how hard i'm working to get to even this first step. you know how hard i'm working. you know how scared i am. you know it isn't you. you'll wait for me, with me, and you won't hate me for it. you promised.

on being forgiven: i don't know how to do it for myself. i don't know how to blame people for what they do to me unless it's the most extreme circumstance. i forgive too much that shouldn't be and hold ignorance and spite against others long past when it's fair. i handwave any scar someone gave me while they were suffering and never let go of what they do to others. i don't know what makes it different when it's me. i guess i know how to forgive myself for being scared and lost and for making bad decisions under the influence of... whatever... but not lazy cruelty. not letting something bad happen because i felt like it. all i do now is watch. all i do is let things slide past me again and again and again and do nothing to help and it can't matter that my heart breaks about it when theirs don't if none of us get up, and i remind myself that small steps do more than a single leap that uses me up but it's so hard to believe that here and now in the world where i could die if i tried again and harder still to comprehend in a world where 800 years of lives were made and suffered through and lost and i did nothing that matters to help. maybe all of the horrible backstory parts you're so scared of me seeing will be ones where i could do something, where i could climb up and let everyone take a raw bite out of me and go without starving for just one day, and then this won't cut me up inside like i swallowed a hedgehog. some days i am the hedgehog. trapped inside me, unable to stop being something that cuts to have there, unable to get away. i don't know how you can forgive me. i don't even know if you know what i need forgiving for. if i apologize for saving your life - for coming back to you again and again and again and being so selfish and. i don't know. for being me, while you try to love me, instead of being the person i can't forgive myself for not being, who deserves to be loved by you like this. but you'll forgive me. how do you do it? how do you stand it? i'm jealous of you. of how easy your heart warms up. of how kind you are.

kosmi 1-6 rewatch: i dislike pei su less now that i can see him as a person with a horrific job and less as a vehicle for the lies i know pei ming told about every woman he ever used and threw away. "i burned the scroll and won the war on my own" yeah right. gotta get that out first before i start collecting my thoughts. um.

one: the ascention, the earthquakes, (all that fuss for a scrap god. you told me the order it went in, when i asked, and i still think it's funny in a way that validates what i've been saying for something only the most in-need ask for help with to rattle the bells from warlord's palaces. they aren't ignorable. more than - more than anything else, anything before, i can be proud of this. i can be proud of myself for this.) i hate the way people look at you like you're infected with something because they can't play pretend that their inaction isn't malice any more. the bets and jokes and sneers. what have you done, lately? what help have you given? what good are you? and then there's me: starting as ever in unfixable debt, anchoring desperately to simple kindnesses, too tired to do more than smile. it's not worth it. it's never worth it. (being loved and losing it is worse than never knowing. being able to love yourself and losing it is worse than that.) the way that heaven sits unfixable and unchanging and incompetent. i'm proud of them for making something of their futures. i am. i don't begrudge them anything. i trust their character and i trust them to try to do the right thing for the people. i'm glad they didn't fight hua cheng. the kids are sweet. they're little carbon copies of their generals. it's sweet. it's kind. i like how... okay, they're mean and short tempered and fight like cats in a bag, but it's just the way you are at that age. it's not personal. it's easier to stand. i know there's gender coding tm in the novel, but i hate man-in-a-dress gags that point out that the man looks bad in a dress. i thought it was fine.

one point five: ok. i'll talk about it. the butterflies on the dress, the gentle music, the way our colours matched, the way your hand felt in mine. the sound of rain. i didn't know people could be so gentle. i didn't know they knew how. i think it was better for my health, before, when i assumed the best i ever saw was the best people were capable of. worse for me, though, to believe that. i'd forgotten what it was like to see myself in someone else's eyes as welcome.

zero point five: flashback sequence goes here. of course i remember what it was like to be loved, and work towards a clear goal that helped people. of course i remember what it was like to have a home that loved me back. he looked so scared as he fell. he looked terrified. i don't... i'm not good. at hating people. when i know everyone is driven to where they arrive in some degree or other. but that - whatever the reason they think they had, it isn't enough. it couldn't ever be enough. i hate seeing the human face disease. i hate how scared they are. how obviously in pain they are. i know they can't have survived. but i wish they could. i would give anything if they could. i would give anything up for it. have i talked about responsibility enough that this isn't a surprise yet? nobody should be that scared. nobody should suffer who hasn't chosen it to protect others. nobody should have to choose it, either, but if heaven has already failed you -

two: i hate that bald man. i hate watching that poor freckled girl throw herself on him again and again to save him just because he's human, while he takes every turn to re-learn hate and jealousy and hurt others. when he talks to his friends he almost humanizes himself, and i hope the time he spends as a crab fixes the rest. i truly do. but god i hate to see it. i hate being unable to do anything, because she chose it, because she knows him more than me, because her heart is kind enough to reach out to him even as it betrays and abandons the people in-need who can only go to her for help. you have to triage need. a life lived with the intent to harm others cannot come before a life lived with the intent to help, or to simply survive. anyway. the concern i get shown whenever i talk about the butterfly ghost is so charming.

three: i hate pei ming. his story is shallow and self-praising, his jilted lover competent and proud before he cured her of that with a kiss. i don't believe she broke her legs. i don't believe he passed over the chance to shortcut his way into glory. am i supposed to believe women just act like that? they just break their own knees for attention? she destroyed herself for him and he can't even pretend to care. not even at the end. not even to lie, and let her move on. so, what? thirteen girls die terrified and alone on the happiest day of their lives (- and we know it was happy for them, we know they went smiling up the path, we know they were excited) because he didn't have the stamnia to apologise to one person he hurt? i hate him. i hate his name, i hate his family, i hate his legacy of butchers, i hate his cowardice in sending pei su to grind out his cover story and then hide his mistakes where he doesn't have to look. i hate him. / i feel. so bad for that boy. he was so scared. do you know how scared you have to be to take scissors to yourself? i do. i have, literally, in the last year, actually. and that was... one cut. to avoid the risk of infection. sleeping on a wound that screams at you? he was a child. he was just a child. i let him down. there's no excuse. he needed reassurance. he needed protecting. i let him down.

four: i like that shrine. i like making it, owning it, doing something meaningful. i think a shrine for scrap should be made of more materials than it needs. i think it should be a place to sleep, always, and a place to eat, and you should be able to strip the roof if you need to. i don't care about what is proper, or respectful. respect the god of scavenger birds by surviving at any cost. by using what is useful. by taking what is free. i can build it again. if i know - if i can believe one good thing about myself, it's that i can build it again. as many times as it takes. i won't wear out. i won't give up. i can build it again. and how lucky, this time, to have help. there are so many things i can't do, even now. i need to learn. i never even thought about it until i saw that door. too long alone in my own head. too many years spent without it feeling worth the effort when a band-aid would hold.

four point five: again, ok, fine. i'll talk about it. you're beautiful. your eyes are like starlight, your smile is the warmest thing i've ever seen, your hands should be buried in an instrument, your painting is beautiful, your laugh is endearing - what do you want from me, here? of course i was looking. it's different to look now with your hand in mine than it was, then, to look just to look. to count threads just to count. to run my fingers through your hair and across your palm just to touch something. of course i knew. who wouldn't know you? who couldn't tell? but then, what was i going to do? know it? say it? ask things? better to be stupid, and naive, and find out what knife is waiting for me when it happens. i'm tired of speeding through the sweet moments to get to the next blade. i'm tired of being pushed from place to place. i'm tired of being alone. wasn't it fun? didn't we have fun? didn't you like talking together and cooking together and waking up in the morning in an empty shrine with the promise of another day to fill it? do i have to scream and shout and be suspicious and accuse you of - what! of holding my hand? of helping me? of being the exact same as everyone in heaven still deigning to look at me and thinking of me only as a tool to an end in a plan that will hurt people who did nothing wrong but pray? what can the harvest hope for if not the care of the reaper man? if it's - it always hurts. it always hurts. if it's going to hurt. why shouldn't it be kind first? why shouldn't i play stupid and keep you close and be usable without a heart left in me to break? why shouldn't i enjoy it for what it is, if it's all a lie? better me than someone who would be hurt by it. you're smart, and easy to talk to, and you're helping. you can't unbuild that door. unsweep the entryway. you can't undo the physical evidence of when you were kind. that's enough. that's all i can ever ask of people.

four point now: yes i know you wouldn't, now, i know you now, i don't need to gamble. i know you'd build a thousand doors. i know there's no trick. i know that it's safe. i know that i could have accused you and screamed and bit you and nothing would have made a difference and you still would have been kind. i know. i promise i know. i just... have to say where it was before. i have to tell you how important that kindness was, and how much i was willing to be kind to my own self to keep it near me. you understand what i mean, right? the tiny unforgivable act of making a mistake that could only hurt me? i know, i know. cocky to assume it would just be me hurt. but - if i was right to hope for nothing, i would make sure of that. i would make sure of it. i would do what i needed to to make sure only i was hurt for my selfishness.

five: i hate that we built a shrine and the next day something like that waltzed in. now we have to clean again. (i said in the stream, how funny it was to run that only survivor scam, how quickly it falls apart if you've ever seen real suffering, if you know what a survival rate is.) the rest i don't remember. i like working as a team. i like how much the kids hate you. they can tell too. i don't know what they see. but they worry about me. why do they worry so much? do their generals have something invested in me? are they just trying to do what they can now, and my caring for them isn't a one-way road? do you look that sketchy?

six: talking about the plot? in a sandstorm? no. you should keep my hat on. you look so sweet and cute and shy in it. i love the way you crumple when you aren't at the wheel, when an interaction happens without your instigation. maybe i'm not the only one bad at taking kindness. maybe i should offer it to you more often. you smell nice. like hot clay and silk. it's subtle. is that a ghost king thing, or is it just you? i like it. i can't imagine what i smell like. i hope... lillies and cotton. something soft. i'll ask you one day. i'm not surprised you were the most solid thing in a storm. i won't be surprised if you keep being that. i should have let you catch me. i should have dragged you with me. are you immune to it? could you stop it? would you pretend to be as useless and helpless as i am? i want to keep putting you in situations in disguise just to see what you do. it's fun! it probably shouldn't be, and i'm sure i'm setting myself up for a public shriving the more it becomes obvious who you are and how much i depend on you, but. i don't care. if i suffer for it, so what? what difference will that make? what could one more condemnation possibly do?

six point five: i like seeing sqx. i still read that as squeeks. i like seeing squeeks. i like sharing this with teddy. i like knowing that the way we are together can translate to here. i like how kind he is to me, and how funny, and sweet. i want to see him be happy. i want to see him be happy even though i know enough to infer it won't last. i know you love me with the power of a thousand angry wasp queens but it's nice to just sit next to him and joke with him and pretend for a little bit that i got to do this all the time. that i spent all my years drinking honey and rosewater and laughing with him, that things were as kind and easy as they're allowed to be. it's cute when i say he has a moral code and he gets offended. it's cute when i say he's a bitch and he gets offended. i like the way it makes all three of us laugh. i like seeing a place in my heaven where you could be. i don't want you to give up what you built. you built it because you had to. but when i'm sitting with my head on his shoulder, it's a window to that place where heaven exists to help people, where none of us ever had to learn what misery really was.

what power obliges from you: action. movement, always. there is no down time, no sleep, no rest, no running. if you seek people out to rule them - and that is what ascention is, seeking to rule, to tie your survival to your treatment of them - then you cannot do it with force and with ignorance and with the desire to coast. like. i'm not stupid. i know men do. for centuries and centuries with no repercussions, until the king on the rope for his people is as far related to the man who razed their lands as i am, (but inheriting evil is a choice too). i know how easy it is to punish and hurt and demand. how easy it is to hold people for ransom. but that isn't... that isn't power. that isn't kinghood or godhood or divine right. it's worthless. it's the other end of a sword. it kills you both to use. there's no light left in the world, no wonder, no chance to be saved by others so long as you are the thing that keeps you both drowning. you should wake up in the middle of the night for them without being asked. you should bleed for them without being asked. you should be ready to die for them without them ever knowing. even at their worst. at their most entitled, afraid, undignified, ignorant - if they are those things, the blame falls on you. if you are voted in democratically or born to the monarchy and not hanged in the streets it is the same either way: the people have chosen, they are asking you for something, and if you live in their gold and silk and sing their songs instead of smashing your own head in with a rock then you have agreed to the terms. why would anyone be unwilling to do that? afraid to do that? if you can do even a little bit more than someone else they are owed half of the excess. you cannot live in the world alone. you must not live in the world alone. ask the people above you to bleed for you and the people below you for nothing. there is no hierarchy beyond "i can help you" and "please help me" and there is no meaning beyond it either. every day it is hard to remember this but you have to, both parts, without losing either. why wouldn't anyone want this? what else is there to strive for but to better help others, to be someone with an abundance to share, to be used like that for the survival of everyone. isn't that happiness? to be as connected to everyone around you as a river is? to give water and fruit and blessings and promises and safety and shelter? you can seek power without understanding that it is only deeper service, but you will never do anything worthwhile with it. the gold will rot with your corpse. we find immortality in one another, and the celebration of giving more.

???: i saw a video of someone opening their back gate onto a meadow of the same single flower. it was beautiful. that's what it feels like when i catch you looking at me. we could grow flowers, couldn't we? we could plan a garden? i don't want to see myself fall and fail twice at least, or fight a war, without something kind at the end. i want you to tell me there's a way to still be like this - repairing doors, eating small meals, sleeping in warm air - after all of that is done. i want to build something selfish and self-sufficient together. i know we already are. in the things we talk about the jokes we make at my own expense whenever further plot implies at me. and in how excited i was to find out that the word for butterfly was this one. but i want to make things with our hands again.

episode 7: well. i'm glad it was me.

episode 7 (a day later): i'm still glad it was me. i'm proud of the kids for how brave they are, proud of that general for saving lives every time - and god, it was so funny sitting there in a circle of contempt for him, touching a gravestone people had hand cut and hauled up the mountain and carefully ingraved with their thanks, thinking about how loved and how much gratitude he must have died surrounded by. thank you for making them treat it with respect. thank you. he did his best. i'm almost jealous of it. imagine how nice it would be to help people, and have them see that you helped them, and be happy about it, and think kindly of you. i'm glad that you understood how important his actions were. i feel less alone when you're beside me on matters like that. anyway - i'm glad it was me. you're so bad at letting people care for you. i can tell you've been alone with only yourself to depend on for a long time. but your heart is so soft, you know? you don't even know it. you deserve to be protected. to be with people who want to protect you. it doesn't matter if you could have caught it in time, or survived a bite if you didn't - you should be able to think of yourself as precious to others. to me. i don't want to see you hurt. i don't ever want to take your hard-won strengths for granted. on the last day of earth, i want to move between you and danger as quickly and without apology as i did then. you're so easy to care for. do you know? and i'll be okay. i know you blame yourself for it because you said, because you're never gentle with yourself the way you are with me. but if you hadn't been there, i'm sure i would have stepped between someone else and that bite. i'm sure i would have forgotten again to grab the stinger i was just warning everyone about. you know what would change? if you hadn't been there, if you'd been a bit faster with your own defense, "if" "if" "if" - ? i wouldn't know there was a cure. i wouldn't know where to look for it, or be able to depend on someone helping me find it. that's the difference you made by being there. that's the only influence you had on me that day. you keep giving me the chance to survive my own mistakes. thank you. i can't promise we won't end up here again. i can't promise i won't keep trying to protect you. all i can do is hope that you know i don't mean it as a slight on your capabilities (it isn't! i just care about you. even the strongest man alive should be loved by people who want to shield him from danger) and that you don't get tired of me being so reckless.