#i am trying to make sure that i’m being realistic and not being selfish

[spinsterennui]

Day off. Waiting for the vet to call back again. We might take Ollie in just to have them feel around his tummy, and also to discuss another medication that might help with discomfort, just until we can get a couple other issues under control. Then we’re going to make a plan for surgery.

[melpomenismask]

Revati, The Messiah.

I’m going to give you a look from the outside in, because I get what you guys feel about Revati naks. We are also watching ourselves in real time. We are aware of how strange it all is, ourselves, our lives, the world around us. But when you already know how things will go, are not confused by the basic existential concept of cause and effect, what the hell are we supposed to do with this big, long, messy trap everyone else calls life? When you can understand everything you see—given you can see yourself—how do you even life a life without knowing every step you take is not your own, but a part of a dance that starts from the womb and ends when you never come back?

Oh, and, everyone thinks you’re either the second coming of christ, or that other guy who shows up when it’s time to get a bit more silly.

Welcome to the Revati conundrum. We hate it here too. That’s why we’re laughing through it. You just don’t get the joke. You think all this stuff matters still. Sorry to see it. Let me know when you’re ready to chill out.

I am a Revati sun AMK in the 12th house and it is time for me to cook 🤓. I love being a Revati. We are everything and nothing. We are simultaneously in and out of the loop. We are the loop. We are the bridge between “reality” and the true order of things. And then there’s all this other stuff. …Yay…so..cool…

Revatis are fundamentally esoteric. We are magical and zany, and we only have to open our eyes to use it. This is no easy task, of course, but it is the only one that matters. Everything else is just noise. But, the noise is fun. Sure. Until everyone takes it far too seriously like that’s all there is to being a person. Then you judge us. Then we’re suddenly crazy, bizzare, unhinged, dangerous. We’re just bearded kids playing in this big, weirdly realistic sandbox. We’re not thinking of you. That’s our power and our flaw. We’re not thinking of you, we’re thinking of everything. If you can grasp that axiom, you will decode us very easily. We love and care deeply—so deeply we have to laugh at how awful everything is. How cruel and selfish and heartless everyone seems, and how it could be fixed if we just followed the obvious guiding signs.

But that’s the thing. They’re not very obvious, are they?

Well then, maybe I should tell everyone what they are!

People think what you’re saying is crazy, and there’s no proof. Maybe we are crazy?

Oh.

Maybe I am crazy.

Maybe I can make it fun.

Revatis usually get no mind nor sympathy when we are young. We are too different and confusing to even try to work with, and we understand things most don’t, but we aren’t sure either, so when no one else gets it, what else can we do other than laugh at the confusion of it all. Because maybe then you’ll let us hang around. Join in.

Right?

Crazy, Crazy Revati!

We literally don’t know what we’re doing. That’s another thing. They sound like the same, but they aren’t. Is that already too confusing? Boo hoo, welcome to Revati. As a Revati, I was born into the world with the sense that there was something bigger than what was around me going on, but with no proof and no sense of where to find it. So I just screwed around instead, and then I found out everyone hates fun Revati. And, I didn’t get any less ignorant than before, but I sure did walk all over everyone in the process!

It’s fair to not be pleased.

Fun Revati is weird. Fun Revati is laughing at jokes that are definitely at your expense. Fun Revati does not care if you feel bad, because it’s not about you, it’s about how you and everything are just so hilarious. Imagine waking up everyday walking over two left feet in “reality”, but with a bunch of mysterious spiritual gifts and esoteric knowledge that is oddly making things work out for us. Most people do not understand Revati while carrying its energy, so understand they are likely confused too, but trying to find the sense of things. It’s when they don’t want to admit they are wrong or have harmed others that the problems start. We look for rules, but the only rules we ultimately get is to have fun. Make the world brighter, happier. Laugh at yourself. Laugh at the world. Enjoy the world, you learn more when you explore. Try not to hurt people in the process. And be sure to smile. Smile, because everything is so sad. Smile, because everyone is so sad and lost. But we know where to go. We’re being led.

…Well, kinda.

Mostly?

I feel like there’s someone else better qualified than me to give you wisdom. I’m just Crazy Revati, remember?

Why are you all looking at me all of the sudden?

Revati, The Wise One.

I find it interesting how the planets resonate as motivations for nakshatra behavior. For my own analysis, I like to point out that mercury is a small, fast planet. We are on the outskirts because we are light years ahead of everyone around us without trying, it’s just what we were given. The downside of that power is that we are light years ahead of everyone without trying. Mercury is smart. It knows it’s smart because no one can keep up. But it is so small and everyone picks on it for being so smart. So it gets bitter. Jealous. Resentful. Hurt. Scared.

Stronger.

Mercury never has to stop. That is our curse. We are constantly moving and making things happen. But what is actually worth making happen. Why are you moving so much? What the hell is going on?

Revati stops.

Revati listens.

Revati, with time and support (and patience) understands.

We are all born children, and we all enter the world as if it is an blank canvas as for our own lives. For most other planets this becomes clearly not the case, but Mercury is too fast. Reality can’t even keep up with us. We’re so smart. We’re so clever and brilliant. We’re on top of the world. We deserve it. We should take everything for ourselves. No one ever considered us, so we should take everything we can get. It ours. It’s owed. We deserve to take the world, and we can. It’s justice, not greed. Don’t you know what I’ve been through?

Hello, Jyestha. Dodging therapy sessions, I see.

When you master the game of life, when you can conquer the world like you can wag your pinky, then it’s not that important anymore, is it? Unfortunately Jyesthas don’t figure that out until they destroy all they build, but Revatis slow down sooner. We are still in conflict. We’re so fast we start slowing down. Nothing is ever in perfect order. Nothing is ever “clear”. But that is the clarity.

Everything is as it should be.

That is the truth Revati natives live by. We follow the flow of existence as beat we can. We try to help the world get in tune with it too, hence our humanitarian and nerdy streaks. We want to find a way to make everyone understand, because we can feel how much the ignorance hurts. We see it hurting innocents who only committed the crime of having bad luck, we see it fueling those that are the root of the cause. We try to laugh. But it’s not a laughing matter. And at a certain point, it’s just not funny anymore, and we have to slow down to fall in tune with how out of order yet in order everything is for our own sanity and sensitive hearts.

Still, we are ever misunderstood.

If we are not jesters or fools, we are gods. Messianic. Heroes. We don’t think of ourselves that way if we’re well-adjusted. That’s the opposite of the Revati way. There is no pride, no ego, no leaders, no hierarchy. There is simply Being. We focus too much as Revati as a mere fish, but fish are a part of the whole. You forget, the ocean is one big soul. You forget the ocean of existence, of all things. After you conquer reality, the only thing left is to understand it. And to reach true knowledge, you must leave yourself behind.

Ironically, it is by doing this that Revati natives finally get what they always wanted. To be able to help, to be able to understand, to know what they’re doing. We are tour guides—inexperienced, but just give us minute—to this whole funny game called life. It is at this point Mercury finally slows down and can join in with everyone else; share what it has learned and gathered from all that running instead of keeping it for ourselves.

(Seriously, Jyestha. Therapy. It’s painful to watch you guys make messes. Literally get over yourself and your problems will “magically” disappear. With love, it’s genuinely stupid behavior if you’re so smart. Get over it all and watch the light come in. Obviously not all of you, but the ones who got personally offended. Doesn’t it ever get boring, the same old victim mentality?)

When Revatis finally come into themselves, we are finally able to help everyone else smile about life too, because we know where to find hope, where to find love, where to find certainty (spoiler: there is none). We think it’s obvious until we finally slow down and open ourselves up to our bigger, slower friends. Mercury is clever, but not exactly smart. That’s a whole other ballgame. But it is wise once it finds its way to stop running, and just start riding the waves, because it can show everyone else how to do it too.

As long as you don’t turn us away, that is.

The “ocean” of life is big and wide, unfamiliar, unpredictable, and Revatis are born native to it. We are moved by the waves. We connect with our friends while we wiggle our little fish butts all over the sea, trying to learn as much as we can. When you are one with the sea, you no longer have to fight it to get what you want, where you need to go. It’s not easy for us either.

But we see you. We see how much more lost you are. It surprises us, but we are soft people. We see you, and we want to help. And when we are done, we can finally join the ocean in its grand design, and leave the need to smile behind. It seems harmless, I know. There are worse things to cling to. But when you have all heart and no clarity, when one thing hurts, everything hurts. And we can truly feel everything. We can find joy in it. Even gratitude. Even power. Even freedom.

But we no longer need joy when we are at peace.

That’s what this is all about in the end.

I think.

Maybe.

From a friend. :)

[physalian]

So, I’ve written posts utterly baffled by writers who think tackling the intimate nuances and complexities of minorities/ disabilities/ neurodivergences that they don’t have based on ego and research is just easy and no one will notice. But like… there aren’t rules for any of these demographics. All aces don’t think the same way, that’s why there’s like 20 different specific labels under the ace/demi umbrella.

But the reason I don’t think anyone can get by on research alone if this character’s quirk (for simplicity’s sake) is the whole plot and their defining feature is this: There is no ‘default’ person and the 50s-esque model citizen was a caricature. Odds are somebody isn’t “perfectly normal” just with one little outlier trait. We’re all different mixes and blends so saying “I’m gonna write a gay dude, I read this one blog by a gay dude and I’m an expert” is just. No.

This is also assuming that it’s realistic for your character to be absolutely certain about themselves and can diagnose or label themselves with medical accuracy. We’re all just vibin’, you know? Some might, and kudos to them, still wierd to so confidently write something you researched like cramming the night before a final.

Like, if you tell me you wrote an ace, and you yourself are straight or simply not ace and have no ace friends or relatives and just thought it would be cool, but your book is an intense deep-dive into asexuality, I’d bet very good money that it is not, in fact, a deep dive into asexuality, just your extrapolation based on a modicum of research and your own biases.

You’re missing out on so much personal context. I’m ace. Also, possibly aro? But also unofficially diagnosed as autistic and I can’t get a real diagnosis because reasons. And everyone is different so I don’t know where the boundary lies between “this is an autistic thing” and “this is an ace thing” and “this is an aro” thing. You, intrepid author, can’t expect to articulate that if a real person living with it can’t.

You can’t articulate it, because I can’t articulate it, and I’m probably contradicting myself all over the place in a giant game of mental Twister. Like. Romance sounds great, but I’m also fiercely independent and am too used to doing everything alone to actually picture being a healthy team and not having to carry it like groupwork in high school. That image just does not compute.

Or, romance sounds great, but I can’t love you the way you expect and odds are I’m not going to want to sleep with you… but I’ll watch your favorite TV show with you and I’ll buy you that box of candy that you probably forgot you mentioned wistfully wanting last week and I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked with your favorite snack and I’ll do the driving and I’ll text you memes and funny pictures and song recommendations to make you smile and I’ll do 100 other things desperately trying to make up for the guilt of both wanting you to find me attractive, but not actually finding you attractive, but it's actually finding the effort I make and the choices within my power that I want you to find attractive and not 'nice ass' or whatever, of wanting you around and wanting love, but not wanting sex and I guess if you cheat but it's "just sex" I have to deal because you've got "needs" and you're "normal" and I'm lucky to have you around without putting out. While simultaneously daydreaming about an imaginary person who doesn't expect those 100 other things done from guilt, but I got bills to pay and can't be selfish and, well, that person doesn't exist.

But sure, your ace is gutwrechingly realistic because they're an android or an alien and are incapable of a sex drive anyway and not human because, what? All humans have a sex drive, you donut. You just haven't met the right person yet.

No one is just one thing in isolation and otherwise “perfectly normal”. The arrogance and naivety it takes from so many writers who think this can’t be shocked when the negative feedback comes in. Write inclusively. Do not write the deeply personal struggles of a life you did not live, that someone reading your book can look at and think, wow, I can’t believe how wrong they got it. Do I expect to read a perfect copy of myself in someone else's ace charcater? No. Every ace is different, but there's the "ace" flag for a reason.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Im not too sure if I am too late for the error and killer debate, but as someone who also thinks they'd get along I wanted to add my thoughts into the mix AKJSHD (as a hardcore error fan.... om btw sry for the wall of text). Even though error wants to destroy anomalies, he literally considers himself as the biggest anomaly (he even calls himself "#1 anomaly"). His entire shtick is being a hypocrite and he contradicts himself constantly. So while killer might be a huge anomaly in his eyes, if they'd meet under normal circumstances (aka error is not actively trying to destroy AU's) i think he'd just talk with Killer normally because yes Error is extremely lonely. And regarding errors emotional outbursts, those mostly happen when he is being extremely paranoid. Which might be an issue with killer on occasion? But I think error would realize that killer has no ulterior motives with him(i think?), which would calm him down for the most part. Either way, error is mostly calm though.

Also I think they are similar in ways too, that error, even though he wants his boundaries to be respected, has no idea how to treat other people and their boundaries (he literally kidnaps people and has no clue how to react to people who are also being emotional). Error is kind of rly selfish in that way lol. Not to mention, error most likely has schizophrenia/psychosis himself, considering he is delusional and hallucinates too (he literally "initiates" physical contact with his hallucination). Which is why I think, that once error would deal with his haphephobia and be more aware of his mental state, he would most likely be craving touch as well (because one he has been in isolation for a long time, and two to also make sure that the person he is talking to isn't just in his head).

Honestly for the most part, I like to imagine that they'd get along really well once they both kinda dealt with their major issues.UGH IDK THO??? (I rly have minimal knowledge of killer but lots of error sooo any more thoughts on this?).

Don’t worry, you aren’t too late. Anyone’s always welcome to add their insights whenever they want!

And I’m glad to hear your views on this, it sounds pretty reasonable and realistic. And the only time I can see Killer having any ulterior motives when interacting with Error specifically would be if Nightmare sends him to get something from Error, he gets bored and starts attempting to provoke Error just to see what happens, or possibly if he thinks Error could help him with his codes.

That last one, however, is something I feel is unlikely to actually happen even if Killer considers the notion a bit; simply because Killer would not want to ask for help from someone he hardly knows or trusts with something so vulnerable about himself. I’m sure he’s aware that Error is aware of his reprogrammed/altered codes, but I doubt he’d tolerate it being brought up outside of “you’re a fucked up little anomaly aren’t you?” type of thing.

I’m sure the two of them would have a lot of meta conversations that would make anyone else who overheard believe they’re absolutely insane and delusional. Voices? Players? Creators? It sounds insane to anyone who doesn’t know.

[morsartis]

i saw that you write for MHA i was wondering if you could write about one of the LOV (preferably shiggy or dabi) finding Eri before the heros did and raising her?

I loved this request so much I almost wanted to make it an au but I promised myself I wouldn’t do that unless I was gonna make an AO3 account. (A//N: I AM SO SORRY I MISINTERPRETED THIS AS HEADCANONS AND NOT STORY I WILL WRITE A SMALL DRABBLE FOR YOU AS SOON AS I FIND THE TIME AND I WILL TAG YOU I AM SO SORRY)

Honestly as wrapped up as Dabi has been in his quest to destroy his father I don’t think he would care much about Eri herself. 

Definitely would have her use her quirk on him to see what all the damage can be reversed and as an excuse to push himself even further. 

Like make no mistake I’m as big a fan of Dabi being a good brother as everyone else but realistically it won’t happen. 

I do think he would grow to care for Eri, however. 

In his own selfish way. 

Shigaraki, however, is another story. 

Listen, I 100% believe that Shigaraki would project his younger self onto Eri. 

However if this is pre getting his shit together by slipping further away from the light Shigaraki he would have no clue how to take care of someone else that isn’t himself. 

Definitely would shove her off into the hands of Kurogiri with an order to look after the girl. 

Which Kurogiri would complain about but still do very well! 

But if you want to shift the timeline around a bit for your bidding and have a more serious Shigaraki then he would take Eri on as AFO did for himself. 

Whether this is good or not is another story entirely and completely up for interpretation!

Shigaraki would see to it that Eri develops her powers and would definitely be feeding her some LOV propaganda about heroes (though let's be honest he has some genuine criticisms that I love to see addressed in the plot). 

Overall I don’t think he’d be a father figure to her so much as an older brother figure. 

He would tease and taunt her often, not always with any malicious intent but trying to mimic the relationship he once had with his sister. 

Kurogiri would be left to do the brunt of the actual raising when it comes to Eri and I full-heartedly believe he would do a fantastic job of it. Most likely he would categorize raising Eri as following Shigaraki’s orders and by extension the orders of AFO to look after Shigaraki’s development. 

Shigaraki can’t raise a child by himself and run the league, now could he? No. So obviously Kurogiri is doing his job!

I think Toga would be the most excited at the prospect of another girl in the league. Especially one that would be easy for her to befriend. Definitely put on babysitting duty often. 

Toga would be the one to introduce Eri to more girly things like painting nails and doing hair. Though Kurogiri would have to keep an eye on them to make sure Toga doesn’t get too carried away and try to take a little blood. 

Eri would definitely grow up to be a biter if she was raised by the league. 

You have to be just a little unhinged to survive there. Let's be real here.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Hello hello! It’s CMA again:)

Btw I didn’t tell my family anything about why I was late coming up lololol- I think they’re used to me keeping odd hours at this point haha

Also ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! I love that you answered my essay and that you had such an amazing response to it!!!!!

Okay I’m going through this- I feel like we’re writing letters where we each go through each point at a time when we write back in long chunks of text to one another, which I guess is essentially what we’re doing, but regardless I love it<3

I wonder if clover realizing that she’s being a hypocrite is going to extend to when she’s in love. Like we already know that she doesn’t recognize her own feelings as being feelings of love, but then I wonder if when she realizes it will change her belief system at all.

I mean I know that this has been hinted to- the contrast between her beliefs and reality/her own feelings- but I wonder if she will still think that most marriages are abusive and she and her friends are just lucky, or if she will have to confront the fact that she was wrong. Either way, I’m really looking forward to seeing how this plays out.

And re: the character flaws thing-

You’re totally right! I actually think that a major problem that I have with a lot of writing, including those in movies and stuff, is that the characters don’t have real flaws so they’re not really relatable. They’re good at everything they try: super smart, funny/witty, athletic, and morally inscrutable; we always know that they’re going to do the right thing and/or find a way to fix things.

We don’t get to see them make mistakes, or their flaws are just like ‘haha sometimes I’m TOO nice:)))’, or all their mistakes are completely selfless, like ‘I’m going to sacrifice myself even though there might be another way because I don’t want anyone else to get hurt’, which is completely noble and admirable, but not super realistic. Like you’re telling me that their only flaw is that they’re TOO good???

But in your stories they’re not perfect at everything. They’ve all got their fatal flaws that actually cause problems, but also cause them to grow and learn. They’re selfish sometimes and care too much or not at all; they’re real, they’re human. One thing I’m learning about myself is that I love media that portrays this, which is why I am so in love with your work.

Okay back to the story lol:

Ohhh okay phew I was worried about them moving to Italy lololol. I guess it would make sense that there’d be multiple, I just wasn’t sure lol.

I also feel like clover is the type to get hung up on small details when she draws. She’d be like ‘I have to draw the leaf in a PERFECT heart shape to convey the angle and how this makes it unique compared to other flowers’ and it would be this super small detail that absolutely nobody but her notices.

I like what you said about their relationship being equal. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the entire trope where it’s like balancing wanting to protect the people you love from information that will hurt them versus trusting them to make their own decisions and valuing honesty.

I feel like Anthony tends to lean towards the first option with both Cherie and Charlie because he has a more protective instinct and also like you said, struggles with control, but Ben knows that clover won’t trust him if he doesn’t trust her, and also that she really values him being honest. I think that it’s a really interesting distinction because my impression is that in his relationships that we’ve seen, Anthony wouldn’t tell either of them things that they don’t necessarily need to know, even if he’s struggling, or he would have a hard time sharing that, whereas Ben would want to share that with her.

I could be totally wrong on that though lol, but it’s the emphasis on equality that really stood out to me.

And to the next point you wrote, I know you’ve mentioned wanting to distinguish the stories from one another, and I think that you’ve done that really impressively well. I wasn’t sure how a story set in the exact same setting/universe would be dramatically different but they totally are in a really good way. It really shows your capability as a writer and also the nuance of the time period instead of just the stereotypical narrative I tend to think about and read when it comes to regency fics.

Re: sprint vs marathon-

Back to enamored, I feel like cherie and Anthony learning to pace themselves was a huge part of their development, whereas in GoS it’s more like learning to appreciate that you are making progress, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.

Eek I’m so happy you liked the bit I wrote and that we can both fangirl over this story together!!! I love that so much, and I am SO flattered your feedback and praise!!

Actually me the entire time reading your reply -> 🥰🥰🥹

Hello my loveeee! ❤️❤️

Lolll my family is the same, they made their peace with the fact that my sleeping schedule is quite strange 😂❤️

I LOVE LETTERS SO MUCH 😍

Oooh that's a wonderful point! ❤️ I do believe she will have some of that thinking at the back of her mind even when she realizes she is in love with Benedict ❤️ I think she will think her and her friends are the lucky ones and most of the marriages are just not like theirs 💔 It won't be such a strict opinion like now, but I also don't think it will just go away because that thought came from years and years of trauma 💔

You are so sweet! ❤️ Yessss I totally agree with you, I look for character flaws in the books/media I consume and it's so nice to hear that I could reflect the flaws as actual flaws rather than something that'll only serve the plot or a boost to the likeability of the character❤️

Clover would so obsess over the tiniest detail of her own drawings yes! ❤️ Meanwhile everyone is like "Yeah that's a leaf" 😂

Oh I haven't seen that one actually but it makes so much sense! ❤️ Anthony would definitely be hesitant to tell Cherie he is struggling even if they are completely in love, and he would try to deal with it himself first before telling Cherie about it because it's a personality thing for him at this point💔 He wants to protect Cherie from anything unpleasant ❤️

Benedict would be more open about it! ❤️

That's such good news omg😍❤️ I'm so glad to hear that the two stories are totally different from each other! 😍

"learning to appreciate that you are making progress, even if it doesn't always feel like it" THIS IS SO TRUE FOR THEMMMM!

Darliiiiing ILYSM! ❤️❤️ I'm smiling at the screen rn! 🥰❤️❤️

[whoopsiexoxo]

I hate this.

I struggle with my sexuality, I’m pretty sure I’m asexual, yet I cannot imagine myself not loving someone. I mean I can, when I think of how my life will end up realistically I see myself all alone, no partner, no kids, no pets. Nothing except myself and my house, a small and clean one, away from all people.

I have grown up in a house with no “good” portrayal of love, i think that has caused me to be the way I am, I have zero tolerance for any type of behaviour from friends/partners. I remember a friend spoke about me negatively once and instead of making a scene I moved myself away, I am no longer friends with that person, I didn’t want her to ask why I moved away either. Life has hurt me too much for me to give leeway to peoples behaviour.

I look at the people my age, happy, in love, with someone. I am jealous of that. No one has ever pursued me romantically, I feel stupid and ugly. Everyone has told me that I’m pretty even my mother with ungodly standards yet, I don’t think Ill ever truly feel that way. It makes me feel unwanted, like I’m the most annoying person in the world, like no one will ever truly care for me.

One of my friends looked at me in the way where you know someone is in love. She smiled while looking at me and its like she couldn’t take her eyes off of me until she snapped out of it and called me ugly jokingly. Two problems arose from this; One, I ended up being happy that someone found me attractive not that I like or love\ her. I don’t. I have fantasised about her but I can never imagine myself in a relationship with her. Two; shes in a relationship since last November. I couldn’t and wont do anything with her or peruse her even for selfish reasons as I will not be able to live with myself if I do.

I hate myself for this, why can I just not fall for someone, let them off the hook once in a while, feel vulnerable without feeling like a burden to all. It feels like people don’t t care about you at all if you’re not like them.

I love her but only because I know she likes me, I will try my best to make her stay so I can feel wanted and she will never know about my feelings.

[thecoreypatrick]

Coffee

“Oh my god, is that the sun?”

Paul peeked over the couch, noticing how quickly dawn had come.

“Yeah, not sure what else it’d be.”

He was teasing, a poor attempt at ignoring the fact that Taylor had been there all night. Talking, just talking. How did this even happen? Before last night, there had barely been a word shared between them. Maybe a quick “hi” as they passed each other in the common room, or direct chats in their zoom classes but nothing like this. The only reason she stopped by was to give Paul the notes he missed in the tutorial. And now here they were, 6 hours later watching the sun come up as she rushed to get out the door.

“Sharon’s gonna kill me if I’m late, you know that.”

He chuckled softly, “She’s not the type to wait.”

Sharon was Taylor’s roommate, someone who took their studies far too seriously, in comparison to the rest of their residence population. If Taylor was late to their study session, Sharon would lose it.

Taylor used her fingers to comb through her hair, a messy attempt to make herself presentable. It had become a rat’s nest, her mascara raccoon-like from all the tears. God could he make her laugh, when was the last time she’d laughed that hard?

“Exactly, I gotta go—” she booked it to the door. “What time is it anyway?”

Paul hummed as he searched for his phone in the cushions, slipping it out and clicking the side button.

“Almost 7.”

“Shit--okay I gotta go…” Her hand hovered the knob, but the door stayed closed.

This had never happened with him. When Taylor first met Paul, it was like he barely noticed her. She wrote it off as him being stand-off-ish; he wasn’t quick to trust new people, Sharon had warned her of that. She really did need to go. Like, immediately.

Paul watched as she ran a thumb over the door knob. He should’ve lied. Said she had fifteen minutes left, that there was no need to rush. He didn’t want this to stop either.

“I finally got that Keurig, by the way.” He blurted.

Taylor smirked, “Okay… do you like it?”

Realizing how dumb it sounded, he laughed at himself. He never really knew what to say to her, for some reason he always had trouble with that.

“No I meant--God, I don’t know what I meant.”

She laughed with him, still patiently waiting at the door.

“I think what I meant to say was I’ve got coffee to spare. So--” He twiddled his thumbs as he thought, trying to find a way to ask without being so blatant.

“So?” She urged.

“---So, when you’re done with Sharon, you could always come back.”

She smiled, “You’re not sick of me yet?”

He returned her smile, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress it. He was feeling selfish this morning. Going so far as to stall for just a few minutes, just to get her for a little bit longer.

“Well, you spent the whole night here, what’s the rest of the morning?”

Rest of the morning, rest of the day, rest of the week he really felt like saying. But the morning would do for now, it wasn’t realistic to keep her all to himself. He was scared she wouldn’t come back. But he asked anyway. And now he searched for the answer somewhere in her eyes, as she looked at him from across the room.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take but… I can text you. When I’m coming back.”

He couldn’t stop himself from repeating her, “You’ll come back?”

“Yeah, I’ll come back.”

Her alarm broke the moment, 7 AM on the dot.

“Okay, now I really have to go.”

He laughed as she opened the door, “Go, go.”

She turned back before she left, a small wave sent in his direction.

“Bye Paul.”

He smiled at her fleeting frame, “See ya.”

[velvetporcelain]

today fucked my brain— so here we go, raw.

hi. 👋 It is Monday. I have listened to robbery at least a thousand times today.

I’m feeling loud today. I’m feeling chatty inside today. I feel a bit charismatic.

I know have a speaker in my break room. constant music — I love it — it’s the small things

I wore fishnet tights today and I felt like a mermaid, caught on land secretly missing her scales.

my boys tested my patience and use of “don’t fuck with me eyes” I couldn’t believe how difficult it was for them to sit still. the life runs hard through their veins and I respect that.

why do people go to church? I’d like to have the balls to talk to strangers about the darker possibilities of life. The dark side. I hate that the church and religion both have soft spots , soft spots which somehow make it a husk.

anyways. — today was beautiful, I was very productive and focused. I could have used a bit more emotional intelligence, but the lack there of has only made me wiser.

I am surely only a memory by now. I really am a dream girl. I understand now. a girl to fill your head with the most wonderful sexual fantasies that you’ve ever had. And no matter how much you try to change the woman’s face — it will always be mine. it will remain mine. that’s real power.

I had to look up the definition of superficial today. - I’ve heard it too many times and there were a few listed, dumbass English. —-

^^^ this one stood out. I don’t know how to apply but this has stuck with me. Like an added word into my daily vocabulary— and observations of existence around me.

I actually kind of thought of the entire American Dream being superficial.

twelve days ago I feel off the face of the planet. i am free floating in space at the moment— sorry I can’t come to the phone ☎️ I hate you.

— I need to remain soft. It’s what has been best. Ignore old habits - embrace new ones- retraining— something to make it all seem rewarding.

I miss grocery store man, not gonna lie. I’m in need some selfish dark psychology. in need of? No a lust. A desire. Sometimes I wish I could befriend him and I could truly get to know him, specifically because he is from Europe. Admittedly, I do want to use him, and I want to get away with it. I know. I know. He has this delicious energy about him. He would fuck me with emotion- he would fuck me deeply- he would hold me close when we fucked. I know it. He wants love and he thinks he’s going to use me to get it, I know exactly what he is doing, but I like the sacrifice.

I should fuck myself. — this is a more realistic and advantageous solution. The fucking good girl solution. 🙄

I want to be bad.

-x

[thebabblingbrookenook]

WHY DO YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS?!

This is only 1200 words but you still managed to pack a punch. You will now be forced to sit here and listen to me unravel.

Anthony and Benedict opening this chapter in discord was so realistic. You really leave your readers no choice but to adopt the stress of your characters. My blood pressure was immediately skyrocketing. The frustration and the helplessness just seep out of them. But it is so beautiful they way you have manifested that differently for each sibling. Benedict wants to help so badly but Anthony’s sense of duty won’t allow his brother to make any sacrifices on his behalf. I feel like there is a lot to unpack here. Pride plays a part, I’m sure, but there is a lot more going on here. Benedict needs to feel he is contributing something in order to be deserving of love. So when Anthony denies him the opportunity, it is a direct battleship hit of rejection for Benedict. And Anthony seeks his worth from what he can achieve. He needs to feel that he can fill the shoes of their father on his own. If he accepts Benedict’s help and lets his brother sacrifice a part of his own life to help Anthony, it translates as failure in his eyes. He is somehow less than. Selfish, with no honor. All of that is the perfect recipe for explosion between the two of them. But I loved how you rounded it out with Anthony extending an olive branch at the end.

This may be a stretch, but I am going to pose the theory that Benedict has maybe experienced the most loss out of all of them. He lost his father, and effectively his mother for the time being. And also a brother. All of them have. But in a way, he has also lost his best friend. Anthony and Benedict are so close in age and incredibly bonded. Anthony’s transformation into The Viscount has created another person for Benedict to grieve. I liked your illustration of that here. The distance has started to grow. Separating them by things unseen. “It made Benedict feel simultaneously small, frustrated and sad.” - 😥😥

It broke my heart to think about Daphne suffering in silence with her secret. I liked that Benedict even noted that this was an action so out of character for her. Her fear of upsetting her family just needed assuaged, and Benedict was the perfect person to provide that for her. She trusted his word when he promised not to be cross with her. At this point in his day, I think finding his sister in need was what HE needed to take the sting out of his row with Anthony. She gave him somewhere to direct his restless energy, and set him on a new purpose.

Their ENTIRE conversation was painful. Daphne is thoughtful in a similar way to Benedict, so he didn’t find her actions strange or take any offense to them. In a way, she is forcing him to process vicariously through her. You can FEEEEEL the build up in him, and his attempt to combat it all. His inner thoughts about this brought me to another “Fuck you, Eleanor” moment. “Benedict held her, stroking her hair. In truth, he wanted to break down too. There were too many things to feel all at once. The tenderness of Daphne’s plan, and her anguish at it failing. The reminder, right there in front of him, of precisely why and how his father had died so freakishly. The knowledge that there was no one in the house who would hold him like this if he did break down, not with his mother hiding away as she was.” NO ONE THERE TO HOLD HIM!!!! It physically hurts me to know this. And to know that HE KNOWS THIS. Oh God, I can’t. He’s terrified. It makes feel sick. 

“And so he just focused on Daphne.” - Typical Benedict. Distracting himself to avoid. 

His actions that followed were so selfless and brave. Facing the thing that they were all avoiding, just so he could try to bring some semblance of comfort to his little sister. And when Daphne saw him out there, it almost felt like he was giving her permission to take the first steps of moving on in her grief. He went first, taking on the burden to be an example for his siblings.

I'm almost afraid to move on to the next chapters lol. Especially the one with Violet. But I'm trusting you to get me through this 😂

A Brother's Love: Devotion

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton Rated: G, angst over grief/loss Word Count: 1.2k GIF by @greengableslover

Summary: Benedict gives Daphne a gift

Benedict slammed the drawing room door closed and leaned against it, fuming. Anthony was being entirely unreasonable. He hadn’t expected a row just for offering to help. His brother had already decided to take the upcoming year off from university while Benedict left to start at Cambridge. He hadn’t wanted them both to be away from the family under the new circumstances they found themselves in.

Benedict had thought his alternate plan was far preferable for everyone. Rather than Anthony taking a break halfway through his studies, he himself would delay his start for a year. He could stay behind to watch over the family and learn to act as a steward, sharing as many of the viscount’s duties as he could with his brother. The very notion of ‘sharing’ the role had set Anthony off into a bitter tirade about responsibilities, during which he forbade Benedict from postponing his education. They escalated into shouting at one another over which responsibilities took precedence, culminating in snide insults on both sides, before Benedict stormed out of the study.

He sighed as his anger started to dissipate. Anthony was developing a tone of voice that was very unlike the boy he had always known. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. He was, in fact, a new person now. Not just Anthony the brother, or Anthony the partner in crime, he was Viscount Lord Anthony Bridgerton, titled landowner and peer of the realm. It made Benedict feel simultaneously small, frustrated and sad.

A nearby whimper startled him. He hadn’t bothered to see if he was alone in the drawing room. One the other side of the sofas near one of the low cabinets stood Daphne, wiping tears from her eyes as she tried to straighten herself.

“Daph?” He walked over to her. “Are you alright?”

If she had wanted to hide that she was crying, she failed entirely. Her chin was trembling, and her eyes were red and swollen as she looked up at him. She gave him an unconvincing little nod.

Benedict saw behind her that the cabinet door was ajar. “What are you up to?” His tone was gentle, not accusatory. 

“I only…” Daphne sniffed, realizing she had been caught. “Will you promise not to be cross with me?”

Now Benedict was very curious. For Daphne to do anything covert, particularly anything that might be considered bad behavior, was exceptionally rare. So rare that this was the first time he was confronted by a secret that she held.

“I promise.”

With another whimper, she bent back to the cabinet, opened it and pulled out a polished wooden box. She set it atop the cabinet and slowly opened the lid.

Inside, Benedict saw three withered stems. Flowers that had browned, curled and shrunk in on themselves, leeched of any color. The spindly dark things looked like little more than twigs, but he knew from their shape that they had once been hyacinths. His heart felt like a stone.

“I kept these,” Daphne sighed, her voice thick with emotion. “Papa had been picking them for Mama and I when…”

She bit her lip and tears started to flow down her cheeks. Benedict wrapped an arm around her shoulders and blinked to hold back his own.

Daphne continued, “I think Mama and Anthony would be angry with me if they knew I had kept them. It’s just that I wanted to keep Papa’s gift, and then I wanted to show them to the baby.”

“What?” Benedict’s brow furrowed.

Daphne looked up at him. Despite her grief, her eyes still shone a bright blue, matching the shade of her dress. “Mama said that if the baby is a girl, she will name her Hyacinth.” Benedict’s stone heart lurched. He hadn’t known that.

“So I wanted to keep the flowers and show the baby where her name came from.” Benedict tightened his arm around his sister and nodded. Such a thoughtful gesture was precisely in her nature. Then her shoulders started to heave with sobs. “But they have all withered. I thought I could dry them like roses but…they have just died.” The last word was a pained whisper as she threw her arms around Benedict’s waist and buried her face against him, weeping freely.

Benedict held her, stroking her hair. In truth, he wanted to break down too. There were too many things to feel all at once. The tenderness of Daphne’s plan, and her anguish at it failing. The reminder, right there in front of him, of precisely why and how his father had died so freakishly. The knowledge that there was no one in the house who would hold him like this if he did break down, not with his mother hiding away as she was. 

And so he just focused on Daphne. Just let her cry herself out, and eventually, an idea struck him.

---

After seeing Daphne back to her room, Benedict spent the rest of the day outside. He knew he would not be disturbed on the front lawn. No one in the family had set foot through the front doors of Aubrey Hall since it had happened. They were all pointedly using other doorways, no matter how inconvenient. But the staff and the gardeners had kept everything beautifully maintained, and Benedict was on a mission.

He expected to feel terrified stepping across the threshold of the front doors. He had braced himself for a surge of nausea as he stepped onto the grass of the lawn. But while he had an initial burst of anxiety, it quickly faded, and he felt surprisingly comforted sitting in the grass near the flowerbeds. It was quiet, the sun was shining, and the blooms were fragrant. He felt close to his father somehow, and it brought him a great sense of ease. 

After a while, he called for a footman to bring him a chair. He took his tea outside while he focused on his task. The light was starting to fade when he heard a small voice calling his name.

“Benedict?” It was Daphne, peering warily out of the open front doors and across the lawn. He jumped up and started walking toward her. He wasn’t going to ask anyone else to join him where he was. Not until they felt ready. He met Daphne in the doorway and she surveyed him, clearly curious about where he had been, but she didn’t comment upon it.

“Anthony wants to speak with you before dinner,” she explained. “He said he wants to apologize, but I don’t know what about.”

A crooked grin crept across Benedict’s face. “Alright, I’ll go see him.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of the portfolio under his arm, the one he had been laboring over all afternoon, and handed it to her. “This is for you.”

Daphne’s eyes sparkled as she took the paper in her delicate fingers. It was a painting, a small watercolor of three perfect, purple hyacinths. She gasped and brought a hand to her mouth, tears starting to well in her eyes again.

“Thank you, Benedict,” she squeaked. 

Still grinning, he planted a kiss on her forehead, and then headed inside to see his brother.

Author's notes: At some point I asked the heartbreaking question: what would the family do with the hyacinths Edmund dropped? Daphne in the show has a lot of lines and story beats centered around flowers, so I gave them to her. Benedict and Daphne don't really have a relationship in the books or show, so it felt good giving them these moments.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @heeyyyou @faye-tale @hopepaigeturner

[moonlit-sunflower-books]

writing morally gray characters

[@/moonlit_sunflower_books on ig]

we all love a good morally gray character, from kaz brekker to helene aquila. but there are things that make them stand out and make the reader genuinely root for them, as well as ways to make them more realistic, that can really help when writing a morally gray character.

disclaimer: i’m not a professional, just a student who writes for fun, and anything written here is based on my personal experience and opinion. you should always do your own research as well, and i am open to respectful discourse!

give them boundaries

one of the most important aspects of any morally ambiguous character is that they aren't entirely unhinged. it's unlikely a character will be willing to murder someone they love, or that they would betray someone unless they are getting something in return. any character has their limits. the goal of your plot is to push them beyond that limit, break them, and force them to stitch themselves back together.

give them a moral compass

many people misunderstand "morally gray" and confuse it for "does whatever the hell they like". possibly because one of the first lines in six of crows is "kaz brekker didn't need a reason" and kaz is bookstagram's favourite example of a morally gray protagonist. but actually, everything that kaz does through the novels only proves that he always has reasons. for absolutely everything that he does.

the difference is that it's not for the Greater Good and Evil.

morally gray characters are often selfish, but will have their own idea of what is considered right and what is considered wrong. for example, helene aquila thinks that it is wrong to disobey one's country. that doesn't mean she thinks it's right to murder, it's just what is done. so she doesn't question it.

make them justify their own actions

any morally gray character should be sympathetic, and this is achieved by having them justify their actions.

<six of crows spoilers ahead> if we saw kaz rip out someone's eyeball or drop someone out of a lighthouse window into a harbour without context, we'd probably think of him as completely unhinged /hyp. but the reader justifies his actions in their mind because kaz's narration justifies the action to himself: he is getting vengeance for inej. <six of crows spoilers end>

essentially, the character's narration should justify their own actions. they murdered someone? it was for revenge. they stole something? they've been starving for weeks. they lost their temper? the blow-up is the culmination of decades of internalised anger. make sure that the reader sympathises with your character by justifying their actions.

don't make them dark haired and brooding

okay okay yes i am a simp for dark-haired morally gray white boys but you know what? sometimes it'd be refreshing to see someone else be morally gray!

give me a morally ambiguous black girl or mother figure or indian character. the world has enough kaz brekkers and severin montagnet-alaires and cardan greenbriars (although i will say that i love all three of them from the bottom of my heart)

but helene aquila was a very pleasant change from all of them!

show them being Good

there is a difference between "morally gray character" and "villain whose actions are justified by the fandom" *cough* the darkling *cough* and it's really important to show that a morally gray character can be objectively good - or at least have pure intentions

for example, jude duarte murders people - Bad. but then in the next chapter, she'll go and have a picnic with her sister or try to save a human girl trapped into slavery - Good.

a morally gray character is not a character who gets a redemption arc, but rather a character whose actions blur the line between good and evil. their character development will not necessarily be going from bad to good, but going from unhinged to self-aware or from revenge-driven to loving.

[castielcommunism]

could you maybe elaborate on why you changed your mind about endverse cas? im having a hard time trying to understand ben edlunds vision and why people love that version of cas so much

Yeah for sure! I’ll preface this by saying that the execution of endverse Cas leaves something to be desired imo (like the whole hippy vibes are a bit much, the orgies are over the top), but thematically I think it’s a very natural and logical way for Cas to develop, especially in a worst case scenario like the world ending. So I like the thematic elements of endverse Cas and the concept of it, not necessarily all the specific details included in the episode, if that makes sense. Celebrating the spirit of it rather than the literal execution.

So to start, I think one of the most important internal motivations for Cas is hedonism. He is curious and pleasure-seeking (those two things are heavily linked), and generally wants to feel good. I think people tend to read Dean as a hedonist, but I don’t actually think that’s the case - he substitutes short term pleasure for long term happiness, and pleasure functions as an easy form of comfort for him, but the thing he wants is happiness and comfort, not pleasure directly. But with Cas I think he just enjoys feeling pleasure in all kinds of forms and is actively curious about it. Not only does it function to make him feel good, but it’s also a knowledge-building activity. He wants to understand things, and he doubly wants to understand things that feel good to him. Pleasure is a site of discovery for him, and he actively wants to engage in that as much as possible.

But Cas is also heavily restrained in that regard. I don’t think he’s naturally a restrained person at all, but through circumstance and his relationship with Dean, he’s had to learn a great deal of restraint. And I think Cas has a complex about it, like I think he believes himself noble for being so inhibited when really all he wants to do is have a good time. But like realistically a starved glutton isn’t a noble one, they’re just a restrained one. Cas would do a lot of pretty fucked up stuff if it meant getting what he wants, especially if that includes “getting” Dean. And on some level he knows that about himself, but it’s easy to ignore when the question of “having Dean” is purely theoretical. I think this is much more true of early seasons Cas than later seasons, where he’s mellowed out and become more adjusted to life on Earth (although not entirely - “I’m going to watch you murder the world” in s10 is demonstrative of what I’m talking about), but endverse is early seasons so I think this all makes sense.

And I’m not saying this as a “bad” thing per se. Everyone is selfish to some degree, but I think one of Cas’ shortcomings is that he doesn’t realise he’s selfish. That one Metatron line about draping himself in the flag of Heaven when really he’s only doing this for one guy (Dean) is, again, a good example. I think Metatron is right! I think on some level Cas styles himself a martyr, a noble fool whose biggest crime was loving too much, and woe is him for choosing to love a man who won’t return his favour. But if someone seriously approached him and said hey, there is a way to get Dean to love you back, there is a way for you to have him in every way possible, what do you think he would do to get that? Or maybe a better question is, what do you think he would consider too extreme in the course of pursuing that goal? What wouldn’t he do?

Cas IS selfless and altruistic in a lot of ways, don’t get me wrong, but I think that he’s got a streak of narcissism in him, the kind that people who deeply hate themselves have. He’s not getting validation from anyone else, so he may as well give it to himself, but the way he does that is, again, couched in self-hatred. He’s prideful of his own failures and congratulates himself for being humble about it. I fucked up but I did it for the greater good, I love but am not loved, etc etc. It’s a pitiable position, but it’s a principled and noble one, which is how Cas styles himself. I think it’s also a way for him to contend with how little he’s allowed to indulge in his own desire for pleasure. He’s just too good of a guy to put that on anyone (read: Dean) so he settles for crumbs.

So you’ve got Cas with a martyr complex and a hugely repressed hedonistic streak, and then you couple that with a deep nihilism about the world ending. Cas has lost his grace and become fully human, and his disobedience on Earth is partially responsible for the world literally ending. He no longer has any real cause to follow or goals to pursue aside from following the orders Dean gives him and protecting what few people are left, so I think by that point he realises there’s no reason to not seek out pleasure whenever it becomes available to him. Now he’s also trying to fill a void inside him by doing that (his guilt, his loss of identity, his inability to be with Dean, the end of all life on Earth), but he still enjoys pleasure for the sake of it. He is masking his grief and anger and pain with physical and chemical pleasure, but he’s also indulging himself in a way he never was able to before, so that’s the silver lining.

So at least for me personally, I think endverse Cas crystallises a lot of those important character traits in him and helps to clarify the perspective Cas is coming from. He’s a pretty straightforward person in a lot of ways, but the fact that he’s never allowed to be straightforward has caused him a lot of issues and problems. And I think the dual impulse of both wanting to straightforwardly “do the right thing” while also constantly questioning what the right thing actually is causes him a lot of grief already. He wants to be righteous and certain because that’s what angels are and that’s what’s easy, but he fundamentally rejects easy authority. And then on top of that he’s been conditioned into repressing that curiosity, so now you have a guy who doesn’t know what the right thing is anymore and has little recourse to discover it. So at that point doing drugs and having sex all day sounds like the best course of action. If he can’t indulge his curiosity in larger ways like “what does it mean to be good?”, then he may as well indulge it in immediate, simple, controllable ways. I think this is also partially why godstiel was another very natural conclusion to his character, because Cas was taking that curiosity to its most extreme end, which is trying to fundamentally reorganise the way Heaven was structured in order to have a definitive answer to “what is the right thing to do?”. Like, make Heaven good and then the question of what good means will flow easily from it. If he can’t feel good he can at least feel righteous.

Anyway sorry lol this is veering off topic but, those are my thoughts on the matter. Like with a lot of things in spn, the concept slaps even if the execution is insufficient in some way.

[mknightgrant]

i just finished reading silence and i'm absolutely HEARTBROKEN 😭 i saw you mentioned earlier you weren't sure about whether you should make part 2 sad or happy, and honestly, the realistic part of me says sad but the "bandaid over the wound" part of me is praying for happy. maybe two short alternate endings if you're playing with a couple ideas rn?

BUT WAIT YES N E WAYS i loved the way you wrote out their relationship. i've been in this exact scenario before and i love how it's so realistic and all the characters are mature, heartbroken, kind of giving into their selfishness but also reminding themselves that they love this person and want what's best for them. steven not knowing what to do when dealt with conflicting feelings, steven being in love with two people at the same time, marc probably wanting to snitch and that's why steven kept him away 🤧

ngl the first thing i thought of was the 80-20 theory of why people cheat. the person you love fulfills 80% of what you've always wanted in a partner, but you go out yearning for the missing piece. eventually you find someone who fills up that 20%, and since you have two, that 100% is fulfilled. eventually, the 80 finds out about the 20 and leaves, and now you're left with 20 instead of 80, and feeling emptier than before.

First of all, thank you SO SO much!! I’m so glad you guys like it so much! I honestly didn’t think it would end up this well-received, so it really does mean a lot 🥹

And YES! Part 2 is officially in the works, but I’m still debating on what kind of fic it’ll be, since my draft is currently just a bunch of concepts and ideas. There still isn’t a clear distinction regarding whether it’ll be angsty or happy, but I am considering writing two alternate endings! We’ll see 😂

Omg I really hope you were able to cope well! And I did try to make it as realistic as possible, despite not having any experience whatsoever about being in a relationship 💀 it was a thought that lingered in my head for too long and I couldn’t wait for someone to write it out so I had to tend to my own thoughts before I went insane. I’m glad I was able to portray it as well as you say I did 🥺🫶🏼

and oh my god?? Okay. That just made things a whole lot sadder, and that kinda gave me an idea but 🥺 AHHHH I’m really conflicted!! Part of me wants more angst, but Steven deserves to be happy too 😭

let me know if you have any ideas that you want me to incorporate though!!

Read silence here!

[syndxlla]

Part eleven of the More To Love series

Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.

Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol

Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).

i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!

PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.

part ten

Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.

Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.

“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.

“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.

“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.

She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.

Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.

“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.

“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.

“We miss you.”

“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.

“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.

“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not coming…”

“What? Why?”

“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.

You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.

“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”

Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.

She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.

“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.

“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”

“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”

“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.

“But what?”

You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”

You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.

This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”

“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”

“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.

“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”

“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”

You feel defeated.

“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.

“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”

Did you?

You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.

Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.

“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”

You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.

Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.

“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”

“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.

Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.

“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.

“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.

“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.

“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.

“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.

“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.

“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”

“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.

“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.

“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”

“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.

“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.

“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?

“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?

“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.

“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans

“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.

“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.

“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.

You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?

“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.

“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.

Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.

“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.

“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.

“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.

“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.

“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.

“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.

“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.

“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.

“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.

You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.

“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.

“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.

“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.

This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.

A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.

Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.

——————————————

“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.

“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”

“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.

“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.

“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.

“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.

All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.

After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.

An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.

Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?

You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.

“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.

“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.

Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.

“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”

Koska doesn’t answer.

“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.

“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“

“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.

“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.

“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.

“So why are you here, then?”

You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.

But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.

Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.

“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.

“You did.” She groans in response.

“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.

Koska is the one not to answer this time.

It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.

The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.

You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?

Was he?

Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.

“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.

“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.

“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.

“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“

“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.

“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.

“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.

“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.

“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.

Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.

You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.

While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.

Separation Anxiety.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.

His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.

“Princess!” He bows.

“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.

“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”

“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”

He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.

“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.

“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”

“Did you know her?”

“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”

“Are you… second in line?”

“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.

“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.

“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”

“The what?” You cluelessly ask.

“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.

“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”

“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.

He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”

“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.

“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.

“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.

“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.

Hugo forces a kiss on you.

Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.

“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.

“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.

“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”

No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.

When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.

You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.

You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.

Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.

Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.

You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...

—

authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE

Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @softly-sad @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol l @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandomistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child

“if you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

part twelve

[beauty-and-passion]

A (not so) brief post about my favourite Sanders Sides ships

It all started with this ask:

I just wanted to write a short answer, I swear. Just a short answer with a tiny little explanation about why I like these ships in particular.

But then I got a bit carried away, my explanations became longer and so here I am, writing a full post.

One small clarification before starting: ships don’t have a place in my analyses. If I talk about connections between Sides, these connections are always in terms of friendships, cooperation or familial relationships. The romantic aspect is something different and I may joke about it sometimes, but it’s just a joke.

There is a time and space for romantic relationships - and it looks like that time has come. 

______________________________

Janus and Patton

I've always liked the canonical ship, in (almost) every fandom. So of course I like the canonical ship of this fandom as well :P

Jokes aside, this ship is incredibly mature, very interesting and terribly hard to talk about. The nature of these two characters, their roles and the episodes that had them involved proved how these two speak the same language, work in the same field and, ultimately, need each other.

* More similar that we think

If we look at them on a superficial level, Janus and Patton are completely opposites: one is cynical and cold, the other is a ball of sunshine. One is dark and suave, the other is goofy and bright. Janus' moral is "step on others and only care about yourself", Patton's moral is "help others because they are more important than you".

These differences became clearer over time, the more we learned about Janus and compared him with Patton. However, along these differences, some similarities started to emerge. Some qualities.

Janus and Patton want what's good for Thomas. They are humble enough to recognize their mistakes (the latest example was POF). They have a strong empathy. They’re kind. They’re mature adults (even if Patton doesn’t show it too often). And they both love and use puns.

But that’s not all. Along with these qualities, we found out that these two have similar flaws: they are both liars. They are incredibly persuasive to the point of manipulation. They have a huge influence over the mind (and the other Sides). They both deal with denial.

And this isn't just important, but it's a fundamental point for their character growth. Why? Because if they have similar flaws, if they are both liars and manipulators, then they cannot deceive each other.

And this is HUGE, especially for Patton! By his own admission, Patton lied multiple times, especially about his feelings (the Nostalgia episodes) and his thoughts (the most recent wedding/callback saga).

He always got away with it, because he was lying to other Sides and Thomas. But what would the point be, to lie to the literal embodiment of lies? Janus already knows what of his words are lies and what not, so it would be absolutely useless to do it.

Therefore, if Patton cannot lie to Janus, he cannot pretend everything is alright when it's not or hide his thoughts on a certain topic. He cannot shift the attention somewhere else or let a conversation drop. That means Patton cannot avoid confrontation about his thoughts/feelings and oh boy if he really needs to talk about them - especially with someone mature like Janus.

And yes, having someone who is able to see past your lies means being a lot vulnerable... but also a lot freerer. With Janus, Patton won’t have to pretend to be the strongest one: he can allow himself to be weak and confused, because if he doesn’t have an answer or if the weight of decisions is too much to carry, he has Janus with whom he can share it.

* A foundation of mutual respect

This point has never been fully addressed, but it was very well implied by their words/behaviours since Janus’ first appearance.

The first proof we have is CLBG: after Deceit revealed himself and disappeared, all the Sides and Thomas went through various degrees of shock, frustration and anger. Patton, on the other hand, was the only one who showed a pretty calm demeanor.

He should've been the angriest, considering that Janus took HIS place and pretended to be HIM the whole time. And yet, not only Patton didn't show any resentment, but he didn't talk bad about Janus (even if he had all the reasons to) and he even justified the other Side’s actions to Thomas:

[Patton]: Kiddo, simply put, Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self-preservation.

Patton could’ve said anything, to make Janus appear as the worst. And his words could've had a lot of influence on Thomas, considering they were coming from his heart.

However, Patton didn't say anything too bad about Janus - not even in the following episodes.

Then we reach POF: Patton's monologue about his morals went so dramatically bad, he turned into a giant frog with abs and Janus had to sweep in to save Thomas.

In that moment, he could've said ANYTHING to make Patton appear as the worst Side ever. He had his chance on a silver plate: Patton was wrong, he had been wrong the whole time, he was literally ready to fight Thomas.

And yet, Janus took Patton's defense:

[Deceit]: He didn't mislead you on purpose, Thomas. I don't think the little guy... or... the big frog is capable of that sort of thing.

In addition to that, let’s consider Janus' whole attitude towards Patton in SvS: he basically spent an entire episode trying to make Patton understand his point.

[Deceit]: You can defend him all you like... But you can't change the facts. Is Thomas an innocent little lamb? Let's let them be the judge of that.

Why did he insist so much on this? Why not tricking Patton like he did with Roman or ignoring him like he did with Logan?

Because Janus knows how important Patton's role is and his whole behaviour shows respect towards the other Side. Unlike the others, who tend to diminish/forget Patton’s importance, Janus never did and always tried to reach him in the most honest, difficult way: through dialogue and confrontation.

And when he failed, instead of disregarding Patton’s importance, he just kept trying again, until his message finally reached the other Side.

* The perfect working partner

POF proved Patton can't bear the weight of the decision-making process all by himself. He needs another Side who can help him and Janus perfectly fills this role.

But why Janus? Why not Logan? Logan is a very mature Side, he can deal with a lot of stress, he's extremely organized and knows a lot. Surely he can help Patton with the decision-making process, right?

Not exactly. For his own admission, morals and ethics are not Logan's area of expertise (as it should be: logic can’t be influenced by what’s considered “good” or “bad”: logic is neutral). Secondly, Logic isn't an emotional-driven Side: logic is way less affected by emotions than other Sides - especially compared to Patton, who is the embodiment of emotions.

What Patton needs is a mature Side with a grey mentality, humble enough to respect him/not diminish his role, from his same area of expertise and enough emotional-driven to connect with him on an emotional/empathetic level.

And Janus is the only one who fills all those points. Even the latter, as we saw in the last part of POF:

[Patton]: Janus... Do you think there's a limit... on how many times someone can say sorry... before you have to admit... that they're just bad for you? [Janus]: Oh, definitely not. I'd love for someone to ruin Thomas' entire life one apology at a time. [Patton]: Okay. [Janus]: (After seeing Patton's reaction)The reality is that... it depends.

Janus' answer changed, the moment he realized Patton didn't get his sarcasm, by switching from ironic to honest. This is the kind of emotional connection Patton needs, something that doesn’t require words, but a small gesture that says more than a thousand words (yes, I’m also talking about that gaze and the small nod in the end card).

If we add to all of that the detail that Janus can nullify Patton's excuses and see past his lies, we have the perfect partner to help him grow up.

But this cooperation isn’t just one-sided: Janus needs Patton just as much as Patton needs him.

Why? First of all, to have a seat at the table. After years hiding, Janus can finally talk to Thomas, introduce his cynical mentality, make Thomas a little more selfish and help him grow up.

Secondly, by cooperating with Patton, Janus will become a better Side: he will learn to compromise, to work together and, most importantly, to trust Patton. And this is a particularly important point because, as I said in my analysis of POF, Janus isn’t used to trust others and he doesn’t want them to see past his barriers. Working with Patton might be exactly what he needs to trust the other Sides and lower these barriers, even a tiny bit.

* The romantic possibility

Considering all of the above points, the idea that their cooperation could evolve into something romantic-driven isn't so strange. The elements are all here, there's nothing weird to add nor need to bend canon, in order to make the ship happen. Their mutual acceptance can easily become need, learning more about each other can easily evolve into desiring each other and friendship could grow into passion.

And, of course, let's not forget marriage. These two can only end up in marriage. I mean, one is a dad, the other is a mom witch, so they are a perfect match XD

My point is: this ship isn't just a “cute couple being cute”. It's about dialogues. Conversations about themselves, their different points of view, their morals, their cooperation, how to help Thomas and the other Sides. It's based on listening to each other, on knowing each other a little more every day. On being silly together, working and failing together, going down and getting up, because there is someone by your side to lend a helping hand.

This is what makes Janus and Patton the most realistic, mature couple. And that's probably why it's so hard to perfectly nail it.

______________________________

Logan and Remus

Here it is, the couple that blew up after one episode and was confirmed in the most recent Aside.

But seriously, these two have a huge potential - first as friends/working partners, then as romantic partners. Logan and Remus need each other and the reasons are pretty clear:

- Having an interlocutor

Remus is Unleashed Creativity, a volcano of ideas in constant need of new stimuli, no matter if they are considered good or bad. After all "good and bad are all made up nonsense", as he said.

Logan is a walking encyclopedia in search of someone who wants to listen to him. He's pure, undiluted knowledge because that's what logic should be. No morals about what's good and what's bad, no emotions, nothing but neutral knowledge.

Considering that, it’s pretty clear these two have to come into contact. But what would they gain?

Well, Remus would have the stimuli he desperately craves. And Logan?

Logan would gain an incredibly smart interlocutor. And I’m not saying it because I am biased towards Remus, but because the canonical episodes showed us how smart he is. In both DWIT and WTIT Remus proved to be a quick thinker, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper eye. He's silly and over the top, but he's not an idiot and he uses everything he has for his own creative needs, no matter how small it is.

Just imagine this cleverness applied to everything Logan might say to him. Remus wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from it, but the whole creative process and, ultimately, Thomas himself, who will have better, richer ideas.

- Gaining a place

At this moment in time (just after WTIT) Remus has not been fully accepted yet. He is tolerated and his presence is a nuisance, but he’s neither wanted, nor banished. He’s just here and he has no voice on any matter.

Also because no one wants to give him a chance to prove how useful and worthy he can be. Thomas barely tolerates him, Patton does his best to ignore him, Roman doesn’t even want to see him and Virgil would rather not have any of the Others present.

The only Core Side who accepts Remus’ presence and is willing to give him a chance is Logan. He spent the entire DWIT to explain why Remus is useful for Thomas and shouldn’t be ignored, while in WTIT, he said: "There will be a time and place for you" - thus implying that, one day, Remus will finally be able to show how worthy he can be.

This is exactly what Remus needs: a Core Side who doesn’t see him as a nuisance or a villain, but as a fundamental part of Thomas that can be helpful, in his own way. Someone willing to give him a seat at the table (at least in the future). And, most importantly, someone who is powerful enough to control him.

Remus is and will always be a force of nature. He will never rest or stop being chaotic. This is why he needs someone strong by his side, someone who can’t be overcomed by his dark thoughts and that can put him back on track if necessary. And Logan proved to be perfect for this role not once, but twice.

- Understanding on a deeper level

However this cooperation won’t be beneficial just for Remus. As I said before, Remus could be a clever interlocutor for Logan. And this cleverness isn’t just related to creativity, but also to emotional understanding.

The Core Sides have known Logan for almost thirty years and yet, they have no idea of the inner turmoil raging inside him. They keep ignoring and dismissing him, clearly thinking everything is fine.

It took Remus one single day to realize what Logan’s problem is, how deeply frustrated he is and how much he’s actually angry at Thomas. Less than 24 hours and Remus knows Logan better than his long time friends.

That’s exactly what Logan needs. Someone sharp enough to notice his behaviour, find out the root of the problem and make Logan face it, instead of dismissing it because who cares (yes, Roman, I am talking about you and your “You'll be fine, Rome didn't fall in a day.”)

- The romantic possibility

I think almost all the fandom agrees that these two would have a great sex life. After all, Remus is the embodiment of Thomas' sexual urges, so he would definitely go for a very physical relationship.

But having a good sex life implies a lot of other great things: good chemistry, no comunication issues, great stability and greater trust. And, even more important, the desire to try new things together. Logan and Remus are both very curious Sides, they both want to know new things and experience them: so their relationship would probably be based on discussing new ideas, testing them and finding out together if they are good or not.

And this doesn't apply to just the sexual aspect: even just the romantic aspect or the working aspect of their relationship could have these characteristics. Logan and Remus can motivate each other, learn from one another and find new things together. They are clever enough to stimulate each other's mind, curious enough to do stuff together to learn something new and honest enough to not withdraw their opinions on any matter.

______________________________

Roman and Virgil

I am just recently starting to warm up to this couple, so I will keep this part short.

Just as it was for the previous two couples, these two can work together because canon made them work. The first part of their whole relationship is already all canonically established: at first Roman saw Virgil as a villain, then he slowly realized he could be a friend. Now moving from friends to lovers isn’t so difficult.

^ No need to demonstrate

Roman needs someone like Virgil, because Virgil is on his same level. Sure, Virgil’s mentality is way more gray-ish, but he still has a lot to learn, just like Roman.

Having someone on his side, who is on his same level is a huge relief: with Virgil, Roman doesn't have to pretend, nor to show off, nor to be dashing and perfect all the time. He knows Virgil won't care less, so he can relax. And for someone who is used to working all the time, having a moment of quiet with someone who has zero espectations is exactly what Roman needs.

Same goes for Virgil: he knows Roman won't care if he's gloomy and dark, because Roman already saw that side of him and appreciates him anyway. So no need to pretend to be different. He can relax too. And, because of his anxious nature, relaxing is exactly what he also needs.

So if they both need to relax, that implies they also need time to do it. And without expectations, without feeling like the other “is better than me and I’m slowing him down”, they can really take all the time they need, to grow at their own pace.

^ Growing together

Virgil and Roman’s is not a one-sided relationship, in which one knows more than the other and helps the other reach his level: since they are on the same level, if one of them learns something new, then it’s a victory for them both, because the other will be motivated to do more/learn more as well.

This isn’t just something I think, but something we saw in canon. During AA-part 2, Roman clearly stated that Virgil “make us... better”, thus implying that Virgil acted as a motivator for him.

Then we had FWSA and here we saw this sentence applied the other way around: Roman was the motivator and, thanks to him, Virgil overcame his own anxiety to push Thomas towards Nico. The final result was a victory for them both: Roman got the romance he’s desperately craving, Virgil found out a new aspect of himself: his bravery.

^ The romantic possibility

These two are a walking “enemies to friends to lovers” trope, so I don’t think there’s anything else to add XD

Only that they would both be quite passionate. One is Thomas’ romantic side, the other is heavily influenced by emotions: if the good one takes Virgil, he would probably be a very passionate partner.

______________________________

Two couples I understand

Janus and Remus -> I understand the appeal of this one and it would kinda make sense, especially from Remus’ point of view. Remus has (probably) sexual fantasies about anything, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he has a whole collection of sexual fantasies about the Side who is closest to him.

But also, I see them too much like father and son/bestest friends to imagine them having a romantic relationship.

So my take is more like that: Remus has sexual fantasies about Janus, just like he has sexual fantasies about anyone. They are his way to show his affection, how much he cares about Janus and wants to protect him.

But Remus is Remus and he's prone to lose control. That's why, since he reached adolescence and started to develop the sexual aspect, Janus put clear limits that give Remus enough space to express his fantasies, but never past a certain point.

So Remus can be very touchy (because, well, he's Remus) and extremely physical in showing his affections, but never go below a certain point. He can talk in full details about all his sexual fantasies to Janus, but never try to sexually force him. He can try to seduce him or propose sexual things, but never pretend he will accept.

And so, over time, it became a sort of internal joke between them: Remus tells his fantasies at the breakfast table, while Janus rolls his eyes with a "very interesting", they have a laugh, they keep going with their day. Remus wants to cuddle, Janus will cuddle. Remus proposes sex, Janus will just laugh and give him a forehead kiss.

In other words, they are the kind of friends who you can find sprawled on a couch, one on top of the other and imagine they're a couple, while that's just how they read a book together.

Logan and Roman -> This couple isn’t bad at all and I really like the idea of these two having a sorta-romantic crush on each other. It can lead to a lot of poetic/romantic possibilities.

The only problem is: Logan is logic, therefore he would destroy all the romance with one sentence XD and the romantic, poetic scene evoked would turn into these two arguing like madmen.

So, well, maybe the hate-sex would be great, but they would definitely spend too much time arguing. Still, I am very curious about it, so I will keep searching for stuff about them.

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter five.

chapter four // chapter six

As the days merged into weeks, a routine settled in.

Aelin alternated between college, her work as TA, homework, cheer practice, her work at the bar and she didn’t have a moment to herself. She liked it that way. She knew how to manage many things at once, has been doing it for years, but she didn’t know how to handle boredom. These moments where you did nothing and you started thinking about everything in your life? Aelin didn’t know how to handle that.

For the first time in a month, Aelin had a night to herself. And instead of spending it to sleep as her body begged her to, she and Lysandra organized a party. Nothing too much, just some of their friends, music, and alcohol.

She was in the kitchen, pouring herself a drink as she talked with Chaol and Dorian. They had brought their roommate but Aelin had no idea where he was, and to be honest she didn’t really care. “I’m not joking, she knocked at our door at two in the morning.”

Aelin laughed at the situation Dorian was describing. “Well, you got to give her points for her determination.” She poured a drink to Chaol and he smiled warmly at her.

“So, how’s life here?” Dorian asked and Aelin shrugged. They had spent a lot of time together lately, they just didn’t speak much.

“Nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?” Lysandra joined them, sitting on the kitchen counter. “What about that roommate of yours, Rowan?”

“Please,” Lysandra huffed. “They’ve been giving each other the silent treatment for a month now. It’s even worse than when they yelled at each other.”

“That bad?” Dorian laughed and Aelin rolled her eyes.

“I remember a year ago, we were partying and suddenly everyone heard you scream. I turned around to see where you were and you threw your drink at his face.” Chaol laughed and she did too, remembering that night.

“You complained when we always argued and now you complain because we ignore each other. You’re so annoying.”

“It’d be okay if you were just ignoring each other. But if looks could kill, you would have killed each other long ago. I hope you realize that everyone notices.”

“What are you even doing here? Stop sleeping with my cousin.” Aelin said and Lysandra barked a laugh. She winked and wiggled her brows and Aelin had to stop thinking about them. Lysandra always had a crush on Aedion, Aelin knew that. But she wasn’t used to seeing Lysandra hanging out in this house, not to be with her but because she was with Aedion. Well, technically they weren’t together. They slept together and both of them were stupid enough not to realize the other’s feelings.

Fenrys came behind Aelin and put an arm around her shoulder. She tried to get out of his grip but he was too strong. “You four, stop isolating yourself and come play with us.”

“Depends, I’m too drunk for Twister.” It was an understatement, she barely could keep her legs from falling. She was too drunk for everything, but she liked it. With the right number of drinks, her brain stopped processing things, that’s exactly what she needed.

“Being drunk is what makes Twister worthy, Ace. But no, what about seven minutes in heaven?” He wiggled his brows and Aelin was ecstatic.

“I love seven-minute in heaven!” She almost screamed and Fenrys laughed at her enthusiasm.

“I would know,” Dorian said and she stuck her tongue at her friend, it just made them laugh harder.

“That was an awful first kiss.”

“You’re joking? We found you making out again an hour after the game.” Lysandra laughed. It had happened when they were fifteen and Aelin didn’t have a lot of memories of that night. Actually, she didn’t have a lot of memories from her teenage years.

“That’s a story I want to hear,” Fenrys said, always curious about everyone’s life.

“That’s nothing, wait until I tell you about that time she played with Rhys-”

“Stop!” Aelin screamed, throwing a spoon at her friend for him to shut up. She didn’t know what he wanted to say and that’s what worried her. She decided her brain made her forget for a reason other than alcohol, as stupid as it was.

“Rhys like Rhysand Night?” Fenrys asked, surprised.

“Yeah, Dorian and I have been friends with him and his brothers for ages now.”

Their parents all knew each other and the five of them kept meeting at parties. And while Dorian and Aelin tried to avoid the spotlight as much as they could since they turned eighteen, the three brothers left for Velaris and became either musicians or actors. Gods, she hadn’t seen them in ages now. She missed these idiots.

“You’re coming to play?” Fenrys asked and they all joined him in the living room. There weren't enough seats so Aelin just sat on Dorian’s lap. Aedion sent them a furious look but didn't comment, Aelin just rolled her eyes. Lysandra made the bottle turn and of course, it fell on Aedion. Aelin decided not to read too much on the look in her cousin’s eyes and just took another shot, ignoring them.

“Ten bucks we find them half-naked,” Lorcan said and Aelin laughed, remembering another time when she had a similar bet about her cousin. She turned her head but Lysandra wasn’t there, neither was the others. Her heart clenched at this feeling of loneliness even if she was in a room full of people.

Instead of thinking too much into it, she took another shot. When she looked in front of her, Rowan Whitethorn was watching her, a disapproving frown on his face.

------

Rowan wondered why he was still looking at her when she drowned a third shot. This time her eyes didn’t leave his as she drank and she winked, leaning more into Dorian Havillard’s embrace.

He didn’t know why he had to clench his fist to avoid shaking, why seeing her now made him so angry. He had been angry all the time since that conversation a month ago, and not at her. He was sure he would wake up the morning after by Lysandra stabbing him, but none of that.

Aelin didn’t tell anyone what happened in the bathroom, and it made him so angry at her.

It made him angry that she didn’t cry to her friend and cousin the day after, asking them to defend her, like Rowan thought she would. No, the morning after she looked nothing like the woman he found in the bathroom, she didn’t look half-dead as she did the night before. No signs of the breakdown.

It made a small part of his head wonder how many times she had been in this state and nobody ever noticed. But he liked to ignore this part of him and focus on the anger.

He was glad of it as he watched Dorian’s arm curl around her waist and her arm around his shoulders. They both laughed as he held his drink to her lips, making her drink everything. Rowan finished his first drink, clearly not as drunk as the two in front of him were.

He had no idea what they were for each other, they acted like friends. Close friends, yes, but still friends. But Rowan had heard too much these past four weeks. Heard how there wasn’t any actual work every time he came here to study.

He hated her for it, hated her for being selfish and not caring about the noise. He also hated himself for noticing Dorian came here to study every time Rowan could see Aelin’s eyes lined with silver, see how her smile was a little too forced, or how her hands shook. Things that didn’t seem to be noticed by anyone else.

He hated himself for noticing, even though he tried not to, that there was no pleasure on her part. But he was probably reading too much into it, why would she keep doing it, then?

When he finally looked away from her, he found Lorcan looking at him, a weird look in his eyes. Rowan arched a brow in a silent question but his friend just looked away and joined a conversation with Fenrys.

When Aedion and Lysandra got out of the closet after Vaughan knocked on the door, Rowan fought a grin on his face at the look on Aedion’s face. He silently waved his pants so that he noticed that his zipper was open. The smile on Aedion's face did not falter as he fixed it, Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Your turn, Ace,” Lysandra said as she sat down next to her friend. Rowan found his new drink more interesting than the blonde girl turning a bottle.

“Fuck,” Dorian said.

“You’re kidding me,” it was Lorcan’s turn to speak.

Rowan looked up when Fenrys burst out laughing and his heart stopped. That fucking bottle pointed toward him. What had he done to the Gods for them to hate him so much? “do it again” He groaned. Why did he even agree to play this stupid game? He thought the worst that could happen would be being stuck with Fenrys, totally forgetting about her.

“Scared to spend time with me, Whitethorn?” Aelin arched a brow, a small smirk on her face. Rowan suddenly hated that part of him that was too proud to back down from a challenge.

“Get in that damn closet already,” He said, standing up and walking toward it, not caring if she followed or not.

When she closed the door after her, Rowan started counting in his head. Surely, seven minutes wasn't that long.

The closer was way too small for Rowan’s taste, he could feel her body brushing his in many places. “I didn’t know being so close to me disgusted you, Whitethorn.” She said after thirty-six seconds.

“So you speak, now?”

“What? You missed me?” She asked, voice full of fake sweetness. The dim light let him see her eyes fixed on him, he fought a shudder at the intensity of her gaze.

He huffed a laugh. “You wish, princess. This past month has been better than the last two years.”

“I know, living right next to me is such a delight.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge of groaning at her for the way she twisted his words. She laughed softly, her breath tickling the skin of his throat. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?” It was better to attack her with his words than to focus on his body’s reaction to her proximity.

She made a low noise as if she was thinking very hard about her answer. “I am not, just realistic. Have you seen me? I’m amazing.”

“I don’t even think you believe that yourself,” he stated and it was true. You just had to try to see more than the facade she kept in front of everyone to see it. Rowan was surprised no one had made comments on it. He wondered if everyone noticed and decided to not say anything, as Rowan did, or if they really were that blind.

“You know nothing about me.”

“You are not hard to figure out, princess.” Lie, Rowan was a liar. It was so damn hard to find a reason for everything she did, to explain why she hid everything about her real emotions.

“Is that why you hate me so much? Because I am so easy to read?”

“You’re not important enough for me to hate you,” He said, voice low as he looked at her eyes. They were objectively beautiful, everyone would agree on that. The ring of gold around her pupil always seemed to catch fire whenever she was angry, it was his favorite part about her eyes.

What the hell happened to him? He didn’t have any favorite part of her.

She laughed softly, shifting to be more comfortable but it just brought her closer to him. He couldn’t keep his groan to himself this time, apparently for Aelin’s delight.

“You know what I think?” She asked, raising herself on her tiptoes. “You can’t stop thinking about me.” She was almost as tall as him this way, she put her hands on his shoulders to stay stable, and even if he should have brushed her hands away, he didn’t. “I think you want me, and it’s not me you hate, but yourself for wanting me.” Her thumb brushed his neck and held in the noise that threatened to come out at that touch. “I think that maybe it even makes you feel a little bit dirty to want me, and you both love and hate it.”

He pushed her to the wall, putting both of his hands on the wall on both sides of her head, blocking her from any movement. He lowered himself slightly, his lips close to her ear. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something whispered that she was right, but he ignored it. Focusing on his anger, that’s how he had always kept people at bay these past ten years. “Tell me Aelin,” he started using one of his hands to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, brushing with the tip of his fingers the sensitive spot of her skin right behind it. “Why would I want a coward?” Her whole body tensed at this and he was happy with himself.

“Shut up.”

He laughed softly, still murmuring in her ear. “Don’t like that word? Because that’s what you are, Aelin. A coward. You always run away the second it becomes hard.” He had seen Aedion take his car and go pick her up from wherever she called for help too many times. He remembered Aedion having to drive out of the damn city because she had left, and it didn’t happen only once either.

Before he could say what was in his mind she pushed him off her, with more strength than he knew she had. “Fuck you.”

“You’re just proving me right.”

“I have nothing to prove to a bastard like you.” She spat and left, slamming the door behind her. Rowan took a minute to sigh, thinking about what he said. That was true, she always ran away, but he wasn’t better. And he noticed how she struggled, he might as well have kicked a man already down.

------------

Aelin smiled at Dorian as she came back, hiding the fire inside of her. Everyone arched a brow, she knew it had been less than seven minutes but she would have killed him if she had stayed one more minute with that bastard.

“Will we find his dead body in the closet?” Lorcan asked, and surprisingly enough that sounded like… a joke. She might have answered in the same tone as him, might have joked with him, had Rowan not ruined her mood for the night.

“Want to be next?” She arched a brow and didn’t wait for an answer, taking Dorian’s hand and making him stand up. She didn’t comment to anyone as she dragged him up the stairs and pushed his back on the wall, not wanting to kiss him.

She needed to feel something other than that consuming rage, and needed the distraction. Dorian didn’t wait before kissing her back hungrily. His hands found her ass and pressed her closer to him. He didn’t need to bother with soft, loving, touch. It wasn’t a part of their agreement, it was just sex. Nothing else.

They had slept together twice in their teenage years even if she didn’t remember it, too high and drunk to remember anything, but they had started again three months ago. He had gotten mad at her for sleeping with however she could, telling her it was unsafe. But even if she never told him why she did it, Aelin was sure he understood. So he had told her to sleep with him instead.

It was his own way to help her, knowing he couldn’t do much else. If Aelin thought about it long enough she would cry of shame and fondness for her friend, but she didn’t think about it. It was the whole point of it, not thinking.

“Shit, sorry,” a voice interrupted them and Aelin looked surprised at Dorian and Chaol’s roommate. “I was looking for the bathroom but I couldn’t find it.”

“Downstairs,” Aelin said, breathless. “There’s only my room and my roommate’s room here.” She said but the mention of him just relieved the flame in her. The flame that begged to burn everything she tried to keep safe inside her. He nodded and smiled, walking past them.

“I’m not going home tonight, Chaol will drive you back. Is it okay with you, Cairn?” Dorian asked and when Cairn nodded and left, Dorian kissed her again.

As he took off her clothes, she focused on the feeling of him, Dorian, her friend, on her.

When his fingers found her core and started getting her ready for him, she fought against the voices in her head. You are a coward.

And as Dorian took a condom and entered her, she closed her eyes. He thrust into her hard, the way she liked it. He kissed her neck, breast, and lips. Trust me, Aelin, you will like it. She bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to hear him. She moaned Dorian’s name as he gave her a particularly hard thrust. Let me show you what a real man can do. She shut everything out, moaning too loudly to hear anything else.

As she and Dorian climaxed, they were both breathless. He disposed of the condom and fell on the bed next to her, not hugging her but staying close to her. After a while, Dorian’s breathing calmed and she knew he fell asleep.

Aelin stood up and took a long, hot, shower. Washing away the touch of anyone on her skin. And as she often did, she wondered how long she would keep living that way. She had given up the hope of recovery a long time ago. but she still hoped that one day the pain would ease.

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