#i have asks from march and drafts from may

[royalarms]

ok. i NEED to work on clearing up some inbox stuff and old drafts 😭

[jadevine]

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[3rachaslut]

SMUT ! MINORS DNI ! dom!changbin X sub!reader femme

cw: slapping, degradation, pet names (slut, whore etc), rough, choking, jealousy, dom/sub dynamic

this has been sat in my drafts for about 8 months lol (i’ve proof read about 4 times but i got bored so i’m sorry for any mistakes there may be)

EVERYTHING WRITEN IS CONSENSUAL ON BOTH PARTS

It was 11:45pm and you, Changbin, Chan and Jisung had been in the studio since 6:30pm. Mumbles could be heard in front of you, although you wasn’t really listening, sipping on your iced coffee to keep you awake. You never was any help work wise in the studio but your boyfriend Changbin and the boys loved having you around and you loved it too.

“Y/n” Jisung called over to you and you whipped your head to look at him. “Listen to this bridge, what do you think is missing?”. You made your way towards him, taking the headphones and sitting gently on his knee. Changbin shot daggers in yours and Jisung’s direction. His glare on the both of you caused a smirk to tug on your lips, although jisung didn’t notice.

You readjust yourself, grabbing onto the sides of the chair, lifting yourself up and gently back down onto his lap again. You listen to the recording, feigning innocence as you slowly push yourself backwards into Jisung’s lap, causing him to cough and attempting to hide the slight moan he just let out. You spin idly side to side on the chair and the friction from you moving over his crotch was causing a reaction from Jisung and you felt it straight away. You smirk as you turn your head from the recording to face Jisung and rais your eyebrows. He taps either side of your waist twice, indicating you to get off his lap. He clears his throat. “Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, I just need to use the bathroom. Two seconds”. He quickly walks out of the studio, praying his friends didn’t notice the tent forming in his joggers.

You briefly look Changbin’s way and his death glare on Jisung never left his eyes, only when he was out the door to the studio did he tilt his head to look at you. You shrug in faux confusion as he looks at you with narrow eyes, causing a sly smile to form on your lips.

“Okay so.. any ideas y/n?” Chan asks, looking at you with tired eyes and Changbin interjects. “Chan hyung, we’ve been at this for hours! I say we go home, get some rest and come back to it tomorrow with a clear mind”.

“Yeah okay, let’s call it a night” Chan begins to pack his stuff and you feel Changbin’s threatening eyes back on you. You make your way to the sofa and sip on your iced coffee, pulling out your phone.

“Night guys, I’ll text Ji and let him know we’re heading home so don’t wait up for him” Chan says, walking out the studio, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Changbin barely waits until the door was closed until he shoots up off his chair and marches over to you. Hearing his footsteps getting closer, a smirk makes its way on your lips.

“What the fuck was that y/n?!” He spits out as his form towers over you and his fierce aura makes you shift slightly in your seat.

“What?” You ask, faking innocence and still staring at your phone. “I don’t know what you mean”. You shake your head in confusion as you continue to look down, too scared to look at him.

“Don’t play fucking dumb y/n! You know exactly what you did! Acting like that much of a whore around my bandmates that Ji had to excuse himself. Fucking slut” He says with narrow eyes and a feigned disgusted look on his face.

“I’m talking to you y/n..” Changbin says sternly, grabbing your chin and forces you to look at him. “When I talk to you, you fucking look. at. me.” He emphasises his words with a slap across the face, causing you to whimper slightly at the sudden pain but you couldn’t ignore the way your clit throbbed from the sting on your cheek. You giggle at him, the brat in you loving this. He shakes his head at you in disapproval.

“Slut” he says, throwing you backwards onto the sofa. He towers over you and puts his hand around your throat, adding just enough pressure for you to let out a strained moan.

“Stupid girl… you would have thought you’d know better by now..” Your eyes rapidly scan his face sensing a ‘punishment’ was incoming, although Changbin’s punishments only ever had you internally begging for more.

Changbin roughly grabs both your legs and practically throws you sideways so you are lying down on the sofa. He yanks your skirt up towards your tummy and rips your panties off, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

“We won’t be needing them, will we doll?” He says with a chuckle. He forcefully parts your legs so your were spread out right in front of him, your breath hitching at the sudden air against your clit. You look away from him in shame at being so exposed when your boyfriend was still fully clothed.

“Such a pretty pussy” Changbin coos whilst his fingers brush over your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles and making you writhe in pleasure.

“Let’s see how red I can make it baby, hmm?” He laughs as your eyes widen, already knowing the punishment you were about to receive. His words were quickly followed by a firm slap to your pussy, making your whole body jolt. You let out a gasp from the sudden, intense stimulation. Changbin was always so brutal with this specific punishment, so you certainly knew the pain and pleasure you was about to endure.

“’m sorry sir! Didn’t mean to! I’ll be good!” you frantically beg. Changbin laughs and quickly dismisses your pleas by delivering another harsh slap to your pussy and you squirm underneath him. Your face contorts from the torment and you moan loudly.

“Not so fucking bold now, are you little girl?” He says with a sadistic look on his face, teasingly rubbing over your sensitive clit making you whine. “I expected you to know what happens when you act like a whore around my friends baby but clearly you don’t listen” He delivered a particularly harsh slap to your pussy that elicited a loud moan from you, practically verging on a scream.

“FUCK” you cry out as tears begin to fall from your eyes. You throw your head back in fear of the next slap you were about to receive.

“Language baby” Changbin shakes his head in disapproval and raises his hand again. You flinch and squeeze your eyes as you lay in expectation of the next blow. But it never came. Confused, you lift your head off the sofa armrest and saw Changbin staring at you with a mischievous grin.

“Aw… cute” He says smirking. Another slap landed on your sensitive pussy and you squeak in pain.

“You love this don’t you? Fucking whore” He says, a look of faux disgust on his face.

“No ssir… h- ’hurtss” you whimper, panting in between words as you try to catch your breath.

“Really? Are you sure?” He takes two fingers and eagerly thrusts them into your soaked cunt, making you gasp at the intrusion then moan in pleasure. “Because your pussy is telling me you’re lying darling” He slowly speeds up his movements in your cunt and your mouth falls open as he starts to curl his fingers inside you. Your legs begin to lift upwards and close together in an attempt to make his fingers go deeper inside you. You begin to writhe in your spot, moaning uncontrollably.

“Legs” Changbin barks, instructing you to keep your legs open wide and low.

You groan in frustration and your legs began to tremble involuntary as you whine from the pleasure.

“Such a naughty girl... You’re dripping all over my fingers from getting your little pussy abused.” He laughs. “What a fucking slut” He emphasises the last word with another brutal slap to your clit that was now pulsing more than ever. You cry out and your legs automatically close together from the sudden pain.

“Y/n I swear to god, if you don’t keep those fucking legs spread, I’ll take this belt off and whip that little clit with it so hard over and over again, you’ll be sobbing for hours. Now.. keep those legs OPEN!” You flinch at his raised voice and he grips your knee with his hand, pushing it down towards the sofa.

You squirm in place as you try your best to keep your legs spread however, you feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach and you know you’re close to squirting.

“Sir! M’ close!” you yell out, your eyes scrunching together. Changbin didn’t say a word back to you instead, his fingers speeding up inside your pussy. He smirks at the scene if front of him, admiring the state he’s put you in. He takes his fingers from his unoccupied hand and rubs little circles on your clit, smirking at the scene of your body writhing underneath him.

“oh, FUCK. Bin i’m gonna come”.

“Beg.” he instructs and you do. You want nothing more than to come undone underneath him and you were prepared to throw away all your dignity right now to get it.

“Please! Please let me come! I’ll be so good, i won’t flirt with your friends anymore- ah! Ever again just please! Fuck- please let me c- cu-“ Your body is jolting uncontrollably and you’re sure you looked a state. Changbin brings his face just inches away from yours, tantalising close.

“Come for me baby” He whispers.

You scream out a thank you as you squirted over his hand, your chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath.

“Oh baby, you made a mess all over my hand. What do you say?” He tuts, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry I made a mess sir” you say pouting.

“And?”

“Thank you for making me cum sir”

“Good girl” He says approvingly, kissing you and grabbing your panties from the floor beside you and wiping his hand clean with them. He cups your face with his hand and rubs at your cheek.

“My beautiful girl.. I’m so proud of you. Come here” He brings you into a warm hug and you melt into his arms, smiling. As much as you loved Changbin’s punishments, you also loved his affectionate aftercare that followed, making sure you’re okay.

“I knew flirting with your friends would get me in trouble. Clearly my plan worked..” You chuckle into his chest.

“Such a brat.” He smiles and shakes his head. “Are you okay? That wasn’t too much?”

“Binnie, it was amazing!” He lifts your face to look at him and brings you into a gentle kiss, pecking your lips over and over again.

“Come on baby, let’s go home”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You still don’t know what to call the man. Captain? Rogers? He’s just the man to you. The stranger who doesn’t speak. 

He doesn’t linger. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some game. If he’s playing with you. His stoicism is just another weapon against you. As he leaves, you sit, stunned and lost. Alone. 

The front door of the cabin shuts you in but you don’t know that you would have the courage to let yourself out. The man found you once; unbidden and unexpected, you’re certain he could do it again and again and again. So, you wait until you’re certain the house is empty before you get up. 

You fix the nightgown and hug yourself as you peek through the open bedroom door. You emerge warily and glance through to the bathroom. The front room once jars you further. You forgot how cozy, how normal it seams. 

You wander around the frayed rug and inspect every piece of furniture. A draft runs through the room, blowing in around the door. There’s an iron basket of split logs next to the fireplace. There’s something yellow on top.

You go over and open the packet; inside, a lighter and a little booklet on how to start a fire. Hm. There’s a bag of kindling next to the wood as well. Maybe later. 

You set the packet back down and turn to face the other doorway. The one you’ve not yet ventured through. The kitchen is small but tidy. On the table, there’s a small crate. Within, sorted neatly, are similar silver packets to the one he handed you in the bedroom. They are labeled alongside a large bag of quick oats. 

The oats simply read, ‘Breakfast’. The writing is jagged but legible. Each packet is labeled decisively; Day 1 – Dinner, Day 2 – Lunch... On and on. You turn and face the fridge. The only thing on it is another note. ‘Drink Water. Not Tap.’ Got it. After the complete absence of communication, it’s nice to have at least a little directive. 

You retreat to the bedroom and check the empty packet. Yep, Day 1 – Lunch. Amid the chaos of your abduction and the desolation of this place, the pieces of order stick out sorely. It all feels so fractured. 

You go to the armoir and try to open it. The doors don’t budge. You back up and cross your arms again. You’re really starting to get cold. You should get the fire going before your fingers go completely numb. 

You strip the flannel blanket from the bed and wrap it around your shoulders. You go back into the living room and hep the extra layer at your waist as you sit on your knees and try to figure out the fireplace. After several splinters and some sparks from the lighter, you get a flame struck. 

You stay close and hold up your hands as it begins to lick. You settle down on your butt and hug yourself under the blanket. You watch the flames swirl and your vision blurs with little orbs of colour.  

The questions don’t matter. The answers won’t make a difference. Why are you here? Where is here? No, it’s useless. Just like from the first moment you saw him. You know now, it wasn’t the first time he saw you. 

You hang your head and let it pour out of you. The fear throttles you so you’re choking on your sobs. Your body wracks and your skull throbs. You don’t want to live like this but you’re too afraid to die. 

You wade up from the dregs of your grief and the room comes clear again. You’re on your side before the glowing embers. You sit up and put another piece of wood on the pile then get up. You stagger around to the bedroom, your feet moving without your mind’s intent. 

You go to the corner. You stare at the shelf. The pictures, the stolen parts of your existence, the shank of hair... is gone? You saw him put it there. Oh well. Good riddance. 

You shudder and squint over the images. There’s one from over a year ago. The last time you saw your family. You shake your head and back up. No. No. You didn’t know for that long. Well, how could you expect something like this? 

You sniffle and leave the room. You can’t stay in there. Not with that shrine? Altar? You don’t even know what. 

You take a stiff pillow from the couch and lower yourself in front of the fireplace again. You close your eyes but you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep. There isn’t much else to do. 

Time skews into a haze. It’s dark, then light, and dark again. Your stomach gurgles but by the time you get the food warm, you’re too sick to eat more than a few bites. As the days wilt by, a stench roils from your body. 

The packets help you track the day, even as you miss some, you try to keep some order in your mind. On Day Four, you dare to try the faucet. The tub pours out steaming water. You adjust it before you sink in. It’s as close to peace as you’ve found. 

As the water stagnates around your body, you can’t help but think. When will he come back? Will he be back? You don’t think he’s out there having fun and frolicking. You could tell by his attire, by the marks of death on that shield. 

You let the water go cold then drain it. You pull the same nightgown on, even as it reeks. You just need something on. You reclaim the blanket and your perch before the fireplace. You wish you had something warm to drink. Coffee or tea. Nothing could ever make this place anything less than a prison, but you wouldn’t mind some comfort. 

[4dkellysworld]

After deciding 'it is done'

This is more of a manifestation themed post (it's a draft from March when I spontaneously felt like writing it but didn't post it) because I felt like it but I'd appreciate if I didn't get any asks about manifestation* (unless I change my mind later) cos I'll share what I can and there's a lot of material available already! You can see my past post on this topic here. For more posts on it, see @4dbarbie-archive and realisophie's posts here and here and there's also some over at @ndjournal in the experience sharing tag.

*Also because I don't want to send mixed messages to the readers of this blog. I see conscious manifestation as a way to challenge & break limitations and concepts from the mind, not to get things in the world (kinda like Neo learning to bend the spoon in the Matrix if you get me lol). The latter will only pull you deeper into ego and the world, which isn't conducive to self-realization (if that's your goal) if you're focused on satisfying ego and the worldly life. If that makes sense and you resonate and agree with that, then we are on the same page but not everyone is and that's okay too, just do what feels right to you. Just sharing my reasoning :)

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

I've been reading this book called Parallel Universes of Self because I read the author Frederick Dodson had an interesting reality shifting experience. I didn't expect to read info on manifestation but they are pretty much the same. I have a few books of his that I'm skimming through out of curiosity and there's some interesting stuff (I might share some other things later, he doesn't just talk about manifestation, but also consciousness, reality and even non-duality).

I thought I'd share the below excerpt because it's explained really well and might help some others. It's also a nice succinct summary of what Ada and Soph talked about for materialization/manifestation as well. I can remember pretty much 95% of the things I've ever "manifested" were from when I acted the way he described after I had decided "it is done". It's easier to do this for things you don't care about because you just end up forgetting about it entirely and then it shows up and you're like 'oh yeah!! nice'.

In the hours, days and weeks after simply rest in the new viewpoint, rest in the fulfilled reality. This means that you don’t try to “make it happen” because you have already claimed it as real. You don’t affirm, visualize, repeat or wait for it. You don’t hope for it to come in some future. Because you have claimed it as already real you don’t even think about it much either. You don’t ask when, how, where it will show up. Instead you simply do what offers itself to you throughout the day, and this will involve commonplace activities. Daily life continues in a natural manner without neediness or lack. Once in awhile you may want to re-feel the body sense of the chosen reality, and enjoy what you have claimed as true, but often not even that is necessary. Furthermore you needn’t be “acting as if” the desired reality is manifest, for that still implies separation. Simply cease to behave in a way that presupposes that it is not already so. You may refuse to ascribe relevance or importance to any events that seem to contradict your newly chosen reality. From the new viewpoint such events may still exist and come up but they are no longer relevant enough to be reacted to and interacted with. They may be the way things are at the moment, but they are no longer the way you are. The corresponding physical manifestation will appear when you stop needing it, chasing after it, looking for it but are instead willingly and lovingly identified with it…not for the sake of “making it manifest” *, but for the sake of experiencing its joy in the here, now and today. *Because trying to make it happen/manifest reinforces the idea/belief that it isn't

This is the same as what 4dbarbie said about getting ego out of the way or as Lester Levenson said, let go and let God. Just let it happen and stop trying to control the process because the more you try, the more you reinforce the fact that it isn't already so. Basically stop putting in effort once you know it is true, just continue knowing with calm and ease that it is the way you want it. Ada also said here:

If you have thoughts like "I need to say my affirmations", "I need to check my state", you're not living in the end but still desiring. When you're able to look at the thing you desire as being something that was once a dream, but now only a memory - you've entered the state of the wish fulfilled. When desire turns into identity, you know you've succeeded in fulfilling yourself.

Yes we're conditioned to think we need to work hard and put effort to earn things in the world but when it comes to manifesting, this sort of mentality will only sabotage and hinder your success. You can literally just decide you have it and then never look back. This sort of mindset can take a bit of time and practice to get used to because it is not something we're used to but the more you practice, the easier it gets.

Here is an excerpt from an astral projection book (I think it's from The Illusion of Method?) I thought was really apt at describing this too. He's talking about AP but you can apply it to manifesting or pretty much anything as well.

Unless you are masochistic, I ask you to reconsider the painful idea of obsessing about time. Bear in mind that results will come whenever they have to, and counting the minutes won't make the outcome arrive faster. It's best if you just forget about it, and accept that it is something that you can't control. You must be patient—most of the time the desired results arrive immediately after giving up control of time. If you are frustrated and/or are afraid of failure, then it means you believe you are in control—and this translates into the feeling that you are responsible for both positive and negative results. Well then, stop thinking that way! Exempting yourself from responsibility is the best course of action there is. As seen in the previous chapter, those who project on command are the ones who couldn’t care less about AP. But the more you obfuscate yourself, the lesser your chances of success —and trust me, you won’t want to get trapped in that vicious cycle. Astral projection works when you stop worrying about failure because you trust that it will happen, whether you “do” something or not.

It’s the same thing: just in the same way that being hasty for sleep to occur keeps us wakeful and alert, being expectant over the OBE will keep us caged in the physical body. If the mind is constantly thinking about the goal, it can easily enter a state of expectancy* and impatience. In such state, the mind is no longer relaxed because expectancy is a state of unrest. This form of tension is what hinders the outcome—thus, the key to being relaxed (i.e., essentially lacking mental tension) is to forget about the goal entirely. If you don’t have the goal in mind you don’t enter a state of expectancy, and therefore you are free from mental tension. *expectancy is the same energy as trying to make something happen.. reinforcing the idea/belief that it isn't so

So, exempt yourself from responsibility means there's nothing more to do because ego is not in control and can do nothing.

[yuri-is-online]

Literally woke myself up in the middle of the night with this and had to scramble here like a being possessed by a spirit to ramble thoughts at you like some sort of divine offering but!!

You mentioned egocentric that you like to entertain the idea of a Mob Character from Scarabia developing a crush on Yuu after they save him form Azul's overblot, and of course following that is winter break and just his luck, Yuu's staying in Scarabia for it! Mob does his best with the opportunity falling into his lap especially with no Ace or Deuce to make any attempts of flirting awkward with their trying to join in the conversation (Deuce) or snide comments at his expense (Ace), so Mob always makes a note to sit with Yuu at the dorm meals, to show off during the desert marching by either how athletic he is or by offering Yuu his parasol. Hell, you're both kinda here against your will, you have so much in common! Yeah, he may have chased Yuu when they tried to escape, but orders are orders, you know? What's he gonna do, sock his Housewarden in the face infront of everyone for Yuu?

But ah, imagine his face when after the Octatrio stepped in to "help" Kalim "manage" his dorm, after Jamil's overblot, after the last party at the oasis, Ace and Deuce show up and Yuu's face just lights up after everything. No wonder people think there's something going on with them.

Is this anything? I feel like its something.

It is so much something that I have thought about this ask most every day since you sent it. I hate writing angst no comfort but poor Mob-Kun TᴖT The full flush of my original idea went something like Mob Kun, smitten with you as he is, gets ratted out to Azul by one of his friends and convinced to seek a consultation. That actually was in the first draft of Azul's long fic and a now scrapped Jade one since I felt like Azul wouldn't rush to capitalize on this little crush since there wouldn't be much of a profit. Mob Kun isn't super wealthy (his parents do well enough for themselves but he's no Kalim) and him getting together with Yuu doesn't really benefit Azul in the way he wants it to. Sure, love is a boon to those in the consulting business, but so is market research and Azul doesn't see this relationship having a great ROI.

He tries his best with the forced proximity he has with you to actually get close, you're on first name basis now! And you remember that you have class together! Hey, a shitty situation in their dorm is how you got close to Ace and Deuce, maybe something good will come out of this situation after all.

Maybe he volunteers to guard Yuu's room at night really thinking he is doing some good. He'd hate for something bad to happen to you, it's half the reason he chases after you when you escape. If he can just find you first, talk to you maybe? Remind you of how you saved him and beg to be allowed to save you too-

But he doesn't find you first, the Leech Twins do. He never gets the chance to explain himself, never gets to be seen as anything more than a face in the crowd. A soulless villain who Ace stares down and Deuce positions himself in between you and him.

What's he gonna do, sock his Housewarden in the face in front of everyone for Yuu?

He knew you were worth it, he just didn't know someone would. Maybe that's why he needed you to save him in the first place ha...

[which-item-poll-archive]

Archiving Which-Item-Poll

Submissions are now open. Please see more details here

Trigger tag list - at the moment outlines NSFW tags but will cover other tags soonish

Tag directory - A key to the tags I use as well as ways to browse by category or the month the poll was originally posted.

Please follow @pick-an-item-poll as they're continuing to post polls where you choose an item

If you want to follow the original blog's new poll blog, it's @hear-me-out-poll

What is this blog?

Basically I'm trying to (manually) reblog everything from their blog to this blog to create a more permanent archive once which-item-poll deactivates the original blog. I'm doing this because tumblr's search functions are notoriously useless for finding specific posts and many posts get entirely lost without a blog's archive page. Additionally, this preserves the tags that contain the information about the items, most notably the websites where they can/could be found.

Once the archive is complete and posted, we'll see where this goes from there.

@which-item-poll if you want me to delete a specific post or a couple that I re-blogged from you please ask me and I will. (Even after you've deleted the blog, since I know your main)

About the Archivist

You can call me Arc (not my name, but it works for now), I'm non-binary and my pronouns are she/they! I'm not the original owner of which-item-poll. I'm typically slow to respond to messages, but will take any suggestions into consideration even if I haven't responded to you yet.

Archive progress

Currently in the queue:

Nothing!

January 2025

Completed Months:

*January, *February, *March, *April, *May, June, *July, *August, *September,*October, *November and *December 2024

*January 2025

(* these months still need their category tags reviewed and possibly edited)

Needs to be queued/drafted:

Anything posted by OP before they deactivate.

Updates

Everything from the original blog as of 18 January 2025 EST has been posted! Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoyed the throwbacks.

I still need to adjust the category tags I added to posts for browsing to make sure that they're all accurate, but other than that the archiving is essentially complete.

So now that the archiving stage is completed, I'm going to potentially create a new version of the pinned/introduction post later on. The focus will be on correcting those tags and finalising the tag directory rather than a new intro post.

Submissions for new polls are now open. If thats the kind of thing you're interested in, see more details here.

Previous updates under the cut

Update: My autotagger wasn't working, which I found out about 1200 posts into this. Currently working on restoring tags to the posts already reblogged. I've managed to fix my autotagger but I had to clear the queue and drafts. (I didn't want to do it... but must to preserve my sanity.... and more importantly my wrist) Once I've got the tags back on the January posts (manually) I'll be able to fill the queue and drafts back up with the original tags intact.

Update: Everything that was posted had the tags added back on. Resuming queuing posts (and I've confirmed that the autotagger is copying the tags). Starting the queue again since there's enough in there to run while I sleep.

Update: I have been misspelling February in all of my tags. I will fix this and continue to fix this as they get posted from the queue.

Update: All the miss-spelt tags have been corrected

Update: I made the pinned post nicer to read! I also added some information.

Update 15/12/24 EST: If I run the queue at 50 posts a day, it will take 45 days to post everything from the original blog to this blog.

19/12/24 7pm EST - Taking a very short break from working on the archive as I have my final assignment due for a university course due tonight. (in about 10 hours in my local time). I should be back to doing stuff with it tomorrow. :)

Update 21/12/24: I'm back to it and working on adding tags to posts before making a directory again. For now, All current archival posts and ones that are in the queue now have the tag #which-item-poll-archive

Update: I have lost my draft about new submissions somewhere :(

Since it was a majority yes vote on the survey about new polls, I'm currently considering how I'd go about doing that.

NSFW items are on their way to the top of the queue. Here's a post about the tags to block if you don't wanna see them! :)

The tag directory is completed! It can be found at the top of this post! There's also a new survey about it. Is it too long?

I'm also going to try and post some things manually to get that time down, but can't guarantee that I can do this a lot due to things happening IRL.

Needs to be queued/drafted:

Any posts remaining in which-item-poll's queue or any other post made between time of update (4:47am on the 15th of December EST) and when OP decides to deactivate the blog.

Pretty close to queuing everything now. Going to include some of the repeat posts from the month of December that were meant to let people know the blog was deactivating ect. But I'm not going to include every single reblog of them. Just for the sake of slightly smoother browsing whilst still backing up the posts.

I found my draft about opening submissions :) Now I just need to edit it so it's coherent.

I've finished queuing and drafting existing posts and are now waiting to archive any future posts between now and when the blog is deactivated.

Everything is now in the queue!

17/01/25 EST - Days left until completed archive: 3 days at 50 posts a day.

The tag directory is completed! It can be found at the top of this post! Since it was a majority vote to not change it, I'm going to leave it as is for now. I'll run another survey on if it's too long once I've pretty much completed it.

[toasttt11]

hospital visits

March 6, 2021

Hayden was finishing putting on her purple converse after the game she just played and her team had won when her phone rung and she paused as she only has her notifications on for a few people so she quickly pulled out her phone immediately and frowned seeing Ellen calling.

“Hi?” Hayden spoke sounding confused as her family doesn’t usually call her this quick after a game.

“Hayden.” Ellen’s voice cracked slightly making Hayden sit up alarmed, “Luke was injured in his game and we’re taking him to hospital, it’s his foot we aren’t sure the damage but there’s a bad laceration.” Ellen told Hayden seriously, There was so much blood and it was making Ellen worried.

Hayden clenched her hand taking a deep breath, “I’ll be there in a few hours.” Hayden didn’t care if she had anything planned her baby brother was injured that is all that matters.

Ellen nodded and said her goodbyes.

Connor who noticed how worried Hayden was, “What do you need?” Connor immediately asked squeezing Hayden’s shoulder softly, not asking anything more just being there for Hayden.

“Can you watch Archie for me and tell the coaches i won’t be at practice tomorrow.” Hayden quickly asked Connor as she knows Lauren and Connor have a key to her house.

“Of course.“ Connor easily accepted not even asking what is wrong just letting Hayden grab her stuff and run out of the locker room.

Hayden quickly got into her car and started the quick drive to the airport.

Hayden immediately bought the next flight out to Michigan which with her luck was only minutes away and she rushed to the terminal and got onto the plane last.

She let out a long breath as she sat down and the plane was getting ready to takeoff.

Hayden knows lacerations are incredibly dangerous injuries and may seem small but can cause a lot of damage, she just hoped Luke would be okay and she hated he got injured but especially in his draft year.

It felt like the longest flight in the world for Hayden and she spent the entire time counting down the time until the plane landed.

Hayden booked it off the plane immediately and quickly got out of the airport and flagged down a cab and told the driver the address to the hospital her family is at.

She checked her phone and Quinn couldn’t come out yet as he had a game to play and Luke told him to stay and play. Jack would be here later tonight.

Hayden rushed into the hospital and to the front desk, “Luke Hughes.” Hayden immediately told the nurse and was told what room he was in.

Hayden rushed down the hallway and toward Luke’s room, she walked in letting out a sigh seeing Luke in the room and walked right to him.

Luke blinked seeing Hayden walk in and smile drowsily as he has had many pain killers, “Haydes.” Luke slurred out.

“Lu.” Hayden breathed out relived as she bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and rested her head on top of his head as Luke grabbed her hand and clung to her tightly.

“How is he?” Hayden asked looking up at Ellen and Jim quickly but keeping her full attention on Luke.

“It could’ve been a lot worse.” Jim told her honestly squeezing Ellen’s hand reassuringly, “He will need surgery to make sure everything is okay and heal the correct way but he will be okay.” Jim finished telling Hayden.

Luke was lucky it wasn’t a lot worse and his injury will be something he will be able to heal completely from.

Hayden let out a sigh of relief and brushed his hair out of his face and kissed his forehead again.

Ellen took a deep breath wiping her face of any tears as they had only gotten the good news about Luke minutes before Hayden came.

Ellen let go of Jim’s hand and grabbed a chair and dragged it to the side of Luke and that Hayden was standing on and pressed a kiss to her nieces cheek, “Sit Hayden.” Ellen gave her a stern glance seeing Hayden about to protest, “You just played a long game and was just on a flight.”

Hayden nodded listening to Ellen and sat down in the chair not letting go of Luke’s hand as she watched him slowly fall asleep.

Ellen and Jim started talking with Hayden quietly as Luke was fast asleep and wanted to hear about things going on in her life that they haven’t heard about yet and it was a good distraction for all three of them.

Hayden had been in the hospital for a few hours and it was getting extremely late when Jack came hurrying through the door and let out a long relieved breath seeing Luke alright.

Jack walked in right to Luke and kissed the top of a sleeping Luke’s head and let a breath out and the tension released from his shoulder.

Hayden stood up and Jack immediately turned to her and pulled her into a tight hug, “Hi Haydes.” Jack softly whispered resting his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Hi Jacky.” Hayden gently whispered back resting her chin on Jack’s head and hugged him back tightly.

The doctor came in a little later to take Luke to surgery and Luke luckily was still sleeping so he wouldn’t even realize and wouldn’t be anxious.

Hayden, Jack, Ellen and Jim all waited in the surgery waiting room as they called Quinn to update him on everything that was happening.

Hayden rested her head on top of Jack’s head as Jack used Hayden’s shoulder as a pillow as the two quietly talked to each other as they waited for Luke’s surgery to be finished.

Hayden was glad to be with most of her family but Quinn even if this isn’t a reason she wanted to have to be with her family because Luke is hurt.

March 7, 2021

After a few more hours of waiting and the sun was already starting to come back up Luke’s surgery was finally finished and everything went really well and they were allowed to go back to Luke’s room and wait till he woke back up. The doctors told them that his surgery went really well.

Ellen and Jim went to Luke’s side first and Ellen gripped Luke’s hand tightly and Jim pressed a kiss to his sleeping son’s cheek.

Hayden waited till they were done and walked over pressing a kiss to Luke’s forehead before sitting in the chair next to him letting Jack see Luke too.

They all waited around Luke’s bed for him to wake back up.

Luke groaned and his eyes squinted open seeing most of his family around his bed, “Hi?” Luke croaked out and Ellen grabbed a cup of water for Luke to drink.

“Hay!” Luke tiredly beamed realizing Hayden was still there and gripped her hand tighter.

“Okay we already know who the favorite is but come on!” Jack scoffed playfully as Luke didn’t even acknowledge him but he wasn’t surprised as he knows that everyone’s favorite sibling is Hayden.

Luke teasingly smirked back, “Hi Rowdy.”

Hayden laughed at the two as Ellen and Jim watched three of their four kids with a fond smile.

[viviennevermillion]

kisses with them

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: spontaneously decided to write this. i don't take requests but i do want to consider other people's faves so if you want to see content for a character, drop them in my inbox along with whether you want something romantic or platonic with them and i'll draft something up! I write for everyone (except for romantic stuff for the children)!

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: kiss from a rose — seal

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: luocha, dan heng

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: spoilers for recent main story update

Luocha's kisses felt earnest and loving. Although he was a man of many secrets, one thing was clear as day to everyone: he was unmistakably in love with you. There were things not everyone had to know about; especially when it came to that promise that had motivated him to come to the Xianzhou Luofu or what was in that coffin he carried around. But he knew very well how and why people might think that he was suspicious or up to no good. That awareness made him all the more mindful about making sure you'd never doubt his feelings for you.

"Aren't you going to trade with other merchants today? Work?", you asked, feeling him snuggle up to you and press a kiss to your cheek. "That's the good thing about being an independent travelling merchant", he spoke in a soothing tone and pulled you close, leaving a quick kiss on your lips that made your heart flutter, "I can afford to take a day off when the situation calls for it."

He smiled when he nuzzled your neck. "And this is a situation that calls for a day off?", you chuckled and ran your fingers through the soft blond hair falling messily over his shoulders. "What with all the trouble around the Luofu recently, I was busier than I hoped to be. I thought that now was as good a time as any to catch up on some quality time with my beloved", he gave you that charming smile that was reserved only for you, guiding your chin closer to his face until his lips met yours. He pecked at your lips, softly and lovingly; leaving you wanting to pull him in for another kiss. "I love you", he whispered quietly against your lips, his fingernails gently drawing circles on your shoulders.

Luocha may not have been privy to immortality as the Xianzhou natives were, but he was sure that he had found a love that could very well outlast the end of times.

As he looked around the Scalegorge Waterscape, Dan Heng felt unsteady and confused. Memories of times gone by flashed through his mind; ones that didn't really feel like they were his but ones he couldn't deny he experienced. He couldn't deny that he had considered the possibility of his past incarnation catching up to his current life one day; but the scale of it had still caught him off guard.

Was everything changing now? The thought of that made his stomach turn and he felt anxious.

As his eyes scanned his surroundings, they met yours. Dan Heng looked away; his heart beating rapidly as if he had been jump-scared. You hadn't had time to confront him about this new form and his past life yet; but he was worried about your reaction. What it would mean for the love you had. Perhaps you had seen the uncertainty and worry in his eyes; as you swiftly made your way over to him. He found it hard to look into your eyes now. "I...I just wanted to let you know; it's still me...despite all", he didn't know where to begin, awkwardly turning a strand of his now long hair in his fingers, "I know you probably have a lot of questions, but I promise-"

He didn't get any further before your lips crashed onto his; your hands cupping his cheeks and firmly holding him close to you as you kissed him like you hadn't seen him for a lifetime. "Once we're back on the express, I'll have to show you all the photos March took during our time on the Luofu!", you exclaimed with a smile, tears streaming down your face from the relief of holding him in your arms again. Dan Heng gave you a soft smile. You looked at him not as if he were a stranger, nor a distant shadow of the past; but as Dan Heng and in that moment he had no doubt that his future path was one that aligned with your journey.

Now it was his turn to pull you into a kiss. It was like the taste of your lips brought him back into the here and now and he had no idea how much he had needed that right now. A single tear ran down his cheek. "Thank you", he whispered against your lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

This journey to the past had left him unsteady and confused but now he was here with you. Now he was Dan Heng and he was loved and that was what mattered.

[insidemyrottenbrain]

Henry, meus cupitus - TSH

TW: gore, toxicity

Where do I even begin? I should start by mentioning that this little piece was inspired by multiple books including but not limited to: "The Meek One" by Dostoyevsky, "Lolita" by Nabokov, "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis and "The Iliad" by the one and only Homer.

This is the toned-down version. I felt that the original was much too explicit to post, but nevertheless it will continue to live in my drafts. Keep in mind, that this version may still be incredibly violent for a part of the audience. Read at your own risk.

Henry, meus cupitus, the last season of the year. My sin, my soul. Henry Winter marching down the banks with his umbrella and books.

He was Henry when we spent our weekends at Francis’ country house, rowing on the lake, finding out about the moon landing. Henry Winter was him, spreading around campus like a dark November mist or in Julian’s attentive green eyes. But he was and still is Henry Marchbanks Winter ever since my ears listened to the convoluted story of the scar; ever since he started forgetting the Latin diary in my sight; ever since our ἕνωσις.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what right have you to judge me? No one should speak of love in the third person, for it is intangible, running so differently through our bones, that it mimics our soul’s very rhythm and so drowns each of us with unique scents, extorted from the desire for which we spill blood. And yet, here it is, my poor heart standing trial for its depth. Little lords and gentlewomen of the jury, I urge you to be magnanimous and instead ask yourself: how will I ever stay behind all on my own? 

We met at Hampden. Our fates intertwined unexpectedly, gloriously, under the pressure of Julian’s classes and consequently under his guiding gaze. We were each other’s equal, neither of us possessing the ability to surpass the other. Though our views on matters weren’t, generally speaking, that different we still somehow managed to find little details so insignificant that the vast majority forget. What I believed in he stood against. What he stated I debated. A continuous chase between cat and mouse, except neither of us hid in walls. Oh, please, listen, how beautifully we were at each other’s throat with winged words whispered by Pallas Athene herself! With every class, my desire to stomp on his toes, to cut out his tongue and compare it to mine, to reduce him to absolute submission grew. As I’m sure did his. My only wish, which Zeus who drives the storm clouds later granted me, was to have him under my despotism. It was sickly divine and it consumed my insides raw. 

Fate is funny in its own sadistic way. And so, despite everything, despite every warning that I’m sure his precious guts gave him, he fell in stride with me. Dangerous, obsessive me. Slowly, with every argument we lost ourselves in the other’s carefully crafted web, our souls moving to do their twisted dance. We couldn’t stop and certainly, we did not want to stop mixing that which made us two. The knot of selves was but a mere preamble to the waltz of unification we performed under the influence of all the gods above. 

Now, most esteemed jury, that you understand the extent of our strange relationship, I can begin to narrate the following events: his demise (and the attempt of mine). I’ll tell it as I myself see fit and understand. That’s the horror of it for me, that I understand everything.

On October 11th of a certain year which I fail to recall, we were sitting against each other on the couch in his apartment, talking, quietly laughing, wasting our minds with wine as one does during the exam period. Take note, that Henry is reserved while his usual self, however, alcohol slightly enables the more emotive side of him. Through our conversation, he grew serious. I didn’t have to ask I knew he was going to tell me.

“You ruin me. You must know since you keep doing it.” Henry mumbled under his breath.  “You lurk through the darkest depths of my mind,” I looked at him, his expression a mirror of mine “I wander dazed, like Hades’ dead undead, unable to form a single coherent thought.” He scoffed. “You are my worst nightmare.” 

I remember closing my eyes for a moment. Knowing he was suffering because of me filled me with bliss. I could see that he was terribly irritated with his emotions, but I wasn’t going to soften anything. Oh no, on the contrary, seeing him in such a state made me deliberately want to intensify it. And then I opened my eyes only to find him, him, holding a knife to my throat.

“This has to stop.” He said solemnly, yet my gaze fell on his shaky hand. “I don’t want to plague my rationality further with you.”

I knew that all he had was his mind. And so, when I felt the sharp metal press against my neck; when I saw his determined, icy gaze I knew I had to twirl around him again. To prove to him that we are far from equals, that I am the sublime.

“You don’t have to love me.” I started out almost desperately, though it was only a trick, I assure you.  “Don’t answer me anything, don’t take any notice of me at all, and only let me look at you from the corner, turn me into your thing, into your little dog..” I whispered.

With his thumb, he wiped away the wetness falling from my eyes (not tears). He was distracted and so I gripped his arm turning it away from my throat and towards his chest. He reacted and used his force to push it in my face. I stopped it with my free hand just before the tempting edge deflated my round eye and all the liquid from it spilled on my face. However, doing so, Henry did severe my ring finger. It ripped from the last jagged skin and juicy flesh that held it tied to my stained hand, fell on the sofa and rolled down onto Henry’s oriental rug with a barely audible thump, all while leaving dark red stains behind. I got up and used my body to push him to the ground. I step on my lost finger. It lets out a crack. He drops the knife due to the force and I get my greedy hands on it. He hurried to get up but I straddled his hips and kissed him, pushing my wet tongue into his warm mouth. I lost myself in it and I only snapped out of my daze when I felt his thick blood staining my skin. Drip, drop, little ladybugs everywhere. 

I opened my eyes only to find his, or rather my, icy eyes still staring at me. What was left of my finger I dipped in blood and licked it. The glorious taste of his fluids mixed with mine exploded on my tongue and a voice whispered. And I believed it blindly, madly, terribly.

You all whom you believe yourself above me, pitiless hermaphrodites, inquire endlessly about the location of his body. It is not good manners to insist. Settle down, brutes, I’ll give you a clue just so you’ll leave me alone to mourn.

I listened to the voice that sang so sweetly in my ear. That is where his body is, in eternity with me.

Pass judgment on me, for that is why you’re here. However, you all are witnesses to my ‘crimes’, so judge yourself too, with the guidance of the Gods, for every accusation that leaves your wretched lips is a cast of your own dark depths. Answer if you are without sin: is it wrong to prove yourself to the one you love?

[kiwiana-writes]

2024 Writing Round Up

Thanks to @cha-melodius for the tag a couple of days ago—I put this in draft to wait for my Christmas gift fic to be published, even though I still have a couple of 2024 deadlines remaining. This is... a long fucking list, so under the cut it goes. I’m tagging everyone mentioned below abs anyone else who wants to play!!

JANUARY

None of my love will go to waste [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 5,306 words] Henry has made peace with the fact that he's in love with his straight roommate. When he walks in on said "straight" roommate with a man, though, he may need to re-evaluate. [A gift for @clottedcreamfudge]

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 5,895 words] Five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.

[PODFIC] Going Platinum [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2:11:26 long] Podfic of Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise

FEBRUARY

[PODFIC] but if you could see us from a distance, you’d know i’ve always been so close to you [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1:03:31 long] Podfic of but if you could see us from a distance, you’d know i’ve always been so close to you by @anincompletelist

A thousand dreams that would awake me [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 5,935 words] Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

MARCH

Pankakke [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 644 words] The first trickle of syrup that hits him is always the best. He gasps, opening up his batter bubbles to allow more in, writhing in pleasure as the maple tips his bottle until he's spent. Henry moans appreciatively as he absorbs the thick liquid, welcoming it in.

Thus may poor fools believe false teachers [RWRB; Oscar & Rafael; rated T; 1,808 words] Rafael's POV of the Dad's Way cancellation; a prequel to With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [a gift for @inexplicablymine]

APRIL

What a beautiful tone [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,345 words] First time rimming but make it really, really introspective.

Warm like the glow that you feel head to toe [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 5,131 words] Alex is a senator; Henry is a prince who knows exactly what he wants.

Nature's infinite book of secrecy [RWRB; Alex/Henry, Oscar & Rafael; rated T; 1,981 words] Five times Rafael tried to figure out when Henry might propose and one time Oscar did something with that information; a sequel to With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [a gift for @cricketnationrise]

[PODFIC] …But My Boyfriend Is [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 0:16:40 long] Podfic of ...But My Boyfriend Is by @clottedcreamfudge

MAY

[PODFIC] kiss me like you love me [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 0:14:47 long] Podfic of kiss me like you love me by @getmehighonmagic

[PODFIC] You're So Attractive; How Did That Happen [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 0:15:28 long] Podfic of You're So Attractive; How Did That Happen by @sparklepocalypse

[PODFIC] I Hear It (When I Look at You) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; 0:37:45 long] Podfic of I Hear It (When I Look at You) by @affectionatelyrs

[PODFIC + LIVE READ WHILE BAKING] An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 0:38:29 long (podfic), 0:45:24 long (live read)] Podfic of An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat by @firenati0n

Like loving the stars themselves [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 7,219 words] Alex is a Time Lord, and time is complicated; Henry keeps meeting him out of order, and it's been a while.

Steep my senses in forgetfulness [The Pairing; Kit/Theo; rated G; 416 words] Theo can hear the way the ocean rolls up to the shore, lapping up over the beach before falling back, summoned into the chill of the Atlantic.

A Prince in the Pâtisserie [RWRB/The Pairing crossover; Alex/Henry, Kit/Theo; rated T; 588 words] “Parlez-vous anglais?” Alex Claremont-Diaz asks, his smile somehow even more blinding in person than it is on TV—and, yeah, maybe Kit only really started paying attention to US politics when Ellen Claremont was elected. Sue him. “I really hope so, cause I’m pretty sure Henry’s getting sick of translating for me.”

[PODFIC] No Ordinary Friend [The Pairing; Blond Calum/Ginger Calum; rated M; 0:22:25 long] Podfic of No Ordinary Friend by @cha-melodius

The wind in our free-flowing sails (and the liquor in our cocktails) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,889 words] Henry is a speakeasy bartender, and Alex is the surface for body shots. Then they fuck about it. That's the fic. [A gift for @sparklepocalypse]

When a man has fallen down upon his knees [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,886 words] Henry is a Broadway star, and Alex is his principal dresser. There are a LOT of quick changes. [A gift for @blueeyedgrlwrites]

A compass that fell silent at the sound of song [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,542 words] The golden age of piracy has come and gone, but every ending is a new beginning. [A gift for @cactusdragon517]

One day we'll be living in the stars [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; 1,262 words] Alex is a new settler on Mars, and Henry helps him settle in. So to speak. [A gift for @ashesfromashes]

JUNE

[PODFIC] Through His Stomach [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1:21:59 long] Podfic of Through His Stomach by @frostingway for @aroyallybigbangrwrb

With his educated eyes (and his head between my thighs) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,110 words] Savile Row tailors have spacious dressing rooms. [A gift for @sparklepocalypse]

Just let me get that, slick back [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,069 words] Henry's hair is long, and Alex feels extremely normal about it. Honest.

A midnight medication (just show me where it hurts) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 2,121 words] Henry became a paediatrician to help sick children—not to flirt with their adults. [A gift for @sail-not-drift]

JULY

Naturally adapted for bodily exertion [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,954 words] Alex and Henry are competitors in the Olympic Pentathlon... in 444BC. [A gift for @three-drink-amy]

Never want to live (or die) without you [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 9,999 words] Alex Claremont-Diaz is a pretty ordinary guy with a pretty ordinary life. He has a kinda shitty corporate law job, a nice apartment, and an incredibly sexy husband. It's a good life, overall. He's not anticipating any major changes to that life anytime soon. Major changes like, for example, eating some sketchy shellfish during a client lunch meeting and suddenly finding himself undead and with an irresistible craving for human flesh. You know. Hypothetically. (A Santa Clarita Diet AU)

I pictured you with other girls in love [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 5,187 words] Henry has an unfortunately physical reaction the first time he meets Alex... and it's not the one you're thinking of. [A gift for @sparklepocalypse]

AUGUST-SEPTEMBER

Brain break(down)

OCTOBER

SERIES: Kinktober 2024 [RWRB; various pairings; rated E; 40,000 words total]

Collars

Incubus/Succubus

Wax Play

Xenophilia

Somnophilia

Rough Sex

Nipple Orgasm [Alex/Nora]

Service Top

Tentacles

Cigar/Ash Play [Oscar/Rafael]

Hair Kink

Mutual Masturbation

Wing Kink

Magical Healing Dick

Boot Worship [Zahra/Shaan]

Biting

Hand/Finger Kink

Exhibitionism

Merpeople

Belly Bulge

Voice Kink

Fisting

Selfcest [39-year-old Henry/38-year-old Alex/19-year-old Alex]

Glory Hole

Double Penetration [June/Nora/Pez]

Orgasm Delay/Denial

Dry Humping

Dendrophilia

Omorashi, Humiliation [two prompts combined because I missed a day]

Sex Toys, Power Bottom, Knotting [all three prompts used for the last day of Kinktober!]

NOVEMBER

Someday your rainbow will come smiling through [Cinderella; trans man Cinderella/Cinderella's Prince; rated G; 3,108 words] A trans take on Cinderella [originally written as an original short story and shared on AO3 when it wasn't submitted for publication]

[WIP] Years of dreams just can't be wrong [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 13,330 words currently published] An Anastasia AU.

We gonna need some brand-new jeans [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 930 words] Finding a use for Thanksgiving leftovers. [Written for Smutsgiving 2024]

DECEMBER

Make heaven drowsy with the harmony [RWRB; Zahra/Shaan; rated M; 2,630 words] Zahra and Shaan's story before and alongside With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest). [A gift for @cricketnationrise for @fandomtrumpshate]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered [RWRB; Liam/Pez; rated E; 3,682 words] Five times Pez brings in something ridiculous to post to his friend in the States, and one time Liam has to put his foot down. [A gift for @onthewaytosomewhere for @fandomtrumpshate]

I only want you under my mistletoe [RWRB; Alex/Henry, Liam/Pez; rated E; 5,649 words] Pre-Christmas shopping is hell, but some retail workers make it more than bearable. [A gift for @everwitch-magiks]

[TBD by the end of the year] Inside you the time moves [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 10-20k] A gift for @amanita-fierce for @fandomtrumpshate

[TBD by the end of the year] All my promise and my pride (all my fear and all my fight) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 10-20k] A gift for @larkral for @fandomtrumpshate

[melrosing]

MBO Robert’s Rebellion: Season 2 Episode 3

what the fuck is this: it's me drafting a fake robert's rebellion tv show through a series of bullet points. there will be two seasons of ten episodes each when done

notes on this one: I’ve changed a couple (minor imo…) details just for my own purposes. first is that I’ve only sent two KG after Rhaegar, second is that I’ve had Aerys use wildfire on the Starks whereas I think in canon it’s just regular ole fire. whatever. humour me

also these are getting much longer lol

prev: 2.02

next: 2.04

title for this one: aerys’ bbq

Brandon and Rickard Stark march down the Kingsroad, arrive at the gates of KL with their men, and demand entry. The gates are opened readily for them, rousing some suspicion in the Stark men - but they continue on nonetheless

Aerys receiving word of this in the throne room that the Starks have arrived - Varys whispers the news in his ear. A slow zoom on. Aerys chewing on his fingernails, his eyes racing back and forth - fear battling it out with fury

~ Opening creds ~

Meanwhile!! Rhaegar and Lyanna have made camp in the woods. Rhaegar compliments Lyanna, saying she makes a fierce fire. Lyanna says she often used to hunt with her brothers - they were all hopeless at it. Lyanna asks where they are headed, anyway - feels like they’ve been wandering aimlessly. Rhaegar says there’s a place not far from here that his great uncle used to visit sometimes, with his wife Jenny. Lyanna like: Jenny of Oldstones? She likes that song. But why are they going there??? Rhaegar asks why Lyanna is following. Lyanna frowns, initially annoyed by the question, then tells him she didn’t want what waited for her at home. Rhaegar asks what does she want? Lyanna doesn’t know. Rhaegar asks what she sees in her dreams. Lyanna wants to know why he keeps asking about her damn dreams. But after a moment, she confesses that she saw him. Rhaegar at her, resolute

Back in KL. Brandon & Rickard are shown to the Red Keep, where they are greeted by the Hand of the King, Owen Merryweather. Rickard demands Rhaegar; Merryweather offers his apologies, however, Rhaegar is not here. The King will see them, however, and listen to their complaints. The Starks look suspicious, but follow Merryweather inside the Keep

Rickard murmurs to Brandon that he has heard the King has no great love for his son. Whatever the Prince may have done, they must make their case before the King, for Lyanna lies at the heart of it. Rickard’s voice breaks. She is his girl, his only girl. Brandon assures his father that they will find Lyanna, and she and Rickard will make amends for their quarrels together. And for whatever he has done to her, Brandon declares quietly that though Robert may never forgive him, he will kill Rhaegar himself

The Starks reach the throne room, where Aerys awaits them. Brandon and Rickard sense the tone shift as they approach the throne, the size of the thing becoming more apparent. Aerys speaks from atop it, he hears the Starks of Winterfell have been demanding words with him. Rickard states that they have received word that his son has taken Lyanna. Aerys asks if Lyanna is the horsey girl he saw in the stands? He’s sure he never knew what it was that Rhaegar saw in such a child, but it may well be that he has taken her. Princes do what they will. Rickard begins to object. Aerys interjects - but you northmen, mere servants, demanding words…… ‘you demand anything of your king?’ (Some dialogue for u) Just as B&R realise how far south this has sailed, all their men are killed around them. Brandon and Rickard are seized, and dragged in different directions

Catelyn stands at her father’s side in his solar, as he harshly dismisses Petyr Baelish from his service. Petyr is still harshly bruised, his arm in a sling. With poison in his eyes, he turns and leaves wordlessly. Hoster tells Cat that Lysa is childish to be so heartbroken over a feeble thing such as Petyr, and more foolish still to - he cuts himself off. Cat tells Hoster that Lysa is still only a girl, and she will grow and mature. Hoster tells Cat she has always been mature far beyond her years. Even now, when by all rights she should be the sister weeping in her room for fear, she stands here strong at his side. Cat tells Hoster she knows that Brandon will return, for doubtless he’d fear her lord father’s wrath if he did not. Hoster manages a small smile, but remains deeply uncertain. Whatever comes to pass, he says, ‘I will see to it that you are well matched’. Cat begins to realise the gravity of the situation. ‘And your sister, too, gods help her.’

In Jon Arryn’s solar with Ned and Bob. It’s obvious they’re spending most of their time here, awaiting news. Robert is unusually silent, whilst Ned tells Jon he needs to find his sister. Jon says Ned should wait here, and see what word comes from King’s Landing. Ned says Lyanna won’t be there: they’ve gone to the wrong place. Robert asks if Ned knows where she is then, because if he does then why doesn’t he damn well say? Ned says he doesn’t know. Robert says then they should leave it to his brother and his father. Ned is taken aback, but Robert doesn’t care just now. Lyanna is his

Arthur on the road with Oswell Whent. Oswell asks if Arthur does truly know where on earth they’re going. Arthur doesn’t answer. Whent asks Arthur if he thinks Rhaegar has done something to the Stark girl. Arthur says nothing. Whent says he wouldn’t have thought the man capable if he hadn’t two kids to show for it, and Elia’s beautiful enough so what’s he chasing after this northerner for, anyway. Arthur says they must be found. Whent like sure ok but it’s a needle in a haystack..… Arthur looks to the stars, then leads them in a new direction. Whent asks what the hell he thinks he’s seen, why are they heading this way. Arthur doesn’t reply

Elia in Maegor’s with Rhaella, the children around them; they’re being kept here during the Stark fracas. She tells the Queen she should like to return to Dorne, to keep the children safe during this time of tension. She would be happy to take Viserys, and Rhaella too if she’d like. They’ve not gotten to know each other much, yet she knows her mother loved Rhaella well, and her son would never let any harm come to she or her young son. Rhaella tells Elia they cannot leave - Aerys won’t allow it. Elia says that if she speaks with the King, he might change his mind. Rhaella implores her, you shouldn’t ask him. Do not ask him

Brandon in a black cell alone: he’s obviously been there many days. Suddenly, light; a gaoler has arrived with a pyromancer, but Brandon doesn’t recognise him as such. Brandon is told that his father has done the King great insult, but Aerys is merciful. He will allow a trial. Brandon says a trial for what - it’s their bloody Prince who ought to be on trial. They want to know where Lyanna is. The pyromancer continues regardless that Rickard has demanded trial by combat, and Aerys, in his magnanimity, has granted him this. He invites Brandon to watch

Jaime Lannister watches as wood is piled before him in the throne room. Utterly confused, he looks to Gerold Hightower, who won’t look back at him. Aerys watches the wood pile up with something stirring behind his eyes

Rickard is led in first, wearing fine armour. He demands to know who he is to fight. Next he is seized, and suspended above the wood, and Aerys informs him that fire is the champion of House Targaryen. Jaime whips round to look at Aerys, then Gerold, but no-one looks back, and no-one intervenes. Suddenly the doors open again, and Jaime watches as a strange contraption is wheeled in and placed before the fire

Brandon is led through the halls, all deadly silent. He senses something is terribly wrong, and has it confirmed when the doors open on the throne room. Rickard is suspended above a pyre, and Aerys looks on from on high. Rickard tells his son to leave him, to go find Lyanna and save her. Aerys says he could save his father instead - all he has to do is reach him. Brandon sees the contraption for the first time only as he is manhandled into it. Brandon, frantic, demands to know if this is all House Targaryen has left - a pile of logs in place of dragons? For a second Aerys looks perturbed by this comment, till he answers ‘a dragon sits before you, and his fire burns as hot’

A fire is lit beneath Rickard, and Brandon immediately strains forward to reach him. Feeling the noose tightening around his neck as he does so, he looks to Aerys, aghast. Aerys looks back, a small smile on his lips

The rest is a slow zoom on Jaime as he strains to mask his horror, the sounds of the Starks’ suffering fading into silence as he blocks it out. The room is bathed in an ever-growing green

Maegor’s holdfast: Princess Rhaenys wanders to the window, and is awed to see the windows of the throne room glowing green in the distance. Elia goes to see what her daughter is looking at, and is filled with disquiet - she leads Rhaenys away

Cut twenty mins later to the bodies of the Starks upon the floor of the throne room. The king strides past them to leave, Jonothor Darry and Gerold Hightower follow in his wake. Jaime stops beside the bodies and stares. Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder. It seems a gesture of comfort at first, until we see the look on Gerold Hightower’s face. It is stern and accusatory: “You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.”

In the Riverlands with Rhaegar and Lyanna. It’s the middle of the night as they reach High Heart. Lyanna is alarmed to see a figure amongst the weirwood stumps, but Rhaegar awaits the Ghost as she slowly makes for them. The Ghost becomes more perturbed the closer she gets, looking at Lyanna with a kind of horror in her eyes. She tells Lyanna she brings death: countless deaths, Rhaegar’s and her own. what a fucking greeting. The Ghost says they cannot stay here; she will not have them. Lyanna looks to Rhaegar to see if he has any take on this. Rhaegar does not. They ride onwards

[agentstarkid]

AN ETERNAL LOVE BULLSHIT ✦ DR3

Based on this ask

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 3.7K words (I tried to keep it short, oops)

✦ TRACK LIMITS: angst, self-doubt, crying, feelings of not being enough, heartbreak.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: I've had this on my drafts, ruminating on it for days, soooo I hope you guys like it. Vitto, Iza and Chloe are the real MVPs of this chapter! Queens uplifting another Queen 💅🏽💖 This was fun to write! Thank you so much nonnie for this idea! ilysm <3 p.s. can y'all spot the song references? 👀

This is set during Saudade. | Everything between "—" and italized are flashbacks.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

The end of April in California had days of clear skies, endless blue, and a gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The sun shone warmly, casting a golden glow over everything it touched, yet the cheerful weather felt almost mocking to her current state.

Her guitar lay across her lap, repurposed as a makeshift table for the notebook where she hastily scribbled words, each one an attempt to capture the storm of emotions swirling within her. The grass beneath her was cool and grounding, but it did little to tether her to the present. Every line she wrote was a desperate attempt to process the pain, to make sense of the abrupt void he had left behind. 

Life moved on around her with an indifferent rhythm, but her mind was still stuck replaying the scenes in a Bahraini hotel room on a fateful Friday morning in March. She was stuck, a relic in a world that had already moved on, trapped in the shadow of what once was. The ache in her heart was a constant companion, a reminder that she was still right where he left her, struggling to find a way back to herself.

Her pen moved frantically across the pages, as if the act of writing could somehow release the torment inside her. But each word, each lyric, only seemed to root her more firmly in the past. The guitar beneath her fingers, once a source of joy and creativity, now felt like a conduit for her sorrow. She was lost in her own words, hoping that somewhere in the tangled mess of emotions, she might find a way to heal.

But amidst the ache, she found solace in the unwavering support of her friends. 

Since landing in Los Angeles, her friends had been her rock. When days of isolation had left her feeling like a shell of herself, Vitto and Andrew had intervened, offering her refuge in their home outside the city. Their house, tucked away from the relentless glare of cameras and the whirlwind of drama, had become a sanctuary. The quiet of their surroundings was a balm for her frayed nerves.

Baby Iza, their little bundle of joy, at almost 1 year old, was a constant source of comfort. The child's tiny hands and infectious giggles seemed to have an almost magical ability to lift her spirits. It was as if Izabele could sense her sadness and made it her mission to shower her with love and affection. 

With the sun casting gentle rays through the window, the child would toddle into the room with her tiny feet pattering softly on the floor. Her face, a picture of innocent determination, was often lit up by a bright smile. She would clutch a small toy in her chubby hands—a plush animal or a colorful block—and make a beeline for her godmother, as if to say, “Here, play with me. Everything will be okay.”

Sitting down beside her, Iza would arrange her toys with meticulous care, her eyes occasionally glancing up to gauge her mood. They would sit together in quiet companionship, the simple act of play bringing a semblance of peace.

As the night fell and the room grew dim, she would make her way to her aunt's side once more, but this time with a special gesture. She would carry one of her favorite teddy bears, its soft fur worn from countless hugs—she recognized it as the one that Daniel had gifted Iza when she was born. 

Her sleepy eyes would barely stay open, and the pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth gave her a serene, dreamlike appearance. She would approach her aunt with the bear in tow, offering it with the sincerity only a child can muster. The gesture, simple yet profound, was Iza’s way of offering comfort and reassurance. The irony wasn’t lost on her, as the comfort offered by the bear was tied to the person who had broken her heart.

Despite the tangled emotions that the bear represented, she’d accept the gesture with a quiet grace. Each night, she would clutch the teddy bear tightly in her arms as she lay in bed, she would close her eyes and allow the bear’s presence to soothe her. It was a small, ironic comfort, a connection to a past she was still grappling with. She never spoke of it to anyone, keeping this bittersweet detail to herself. 

Vitto and Andrew's kindness, along with Baby Iza’s innocent charm, and Fio and Danna’s constant facetime calls—and impromptu visits—, were her anchors, grounding her in a time of turbulence.

Rumors had started circulating about Daniel moving on with Heidi, emerging just two weeks after their breakup. As she heard whispers and saw the headlines, she felt a deep internal conflict. One part of her mind tried to dismiss the rumors, knowing all too well how the business thrived on gossip and sensationalism. She had been in this world long enough to recognize how quickly false narratives could spread and how little they sometimes reflected the truth.

Yet, another part of her, the part that had been wounded by every argument they’d ever had about their future, couldn’t silence the inner voice that screamed she was a fool. It was the same voice that had questioned every promise, every declaration of eternal love Daniel had made. How could someone profess to love her, to call her the love of their life—a million times—, to talk about rings and cradles, and then, almost as soon as it was over, move on to someone new?

But a single text changed her entire world.

The moment she received confirmation from Chloe that the rumors were true, a wave of crushing disappointment and pain washed over her. It felt as if the ground beneath her had given way, leaving her in a freefall of disbelief and heartache. The confirmation struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her feeling hollow inside.

The betrayal was sharper than she could have ever imagined. Daniel, the person she had known better than herself, had indeed moved on after only two weeks. The image she had clung to, the person she had given the benefit of the doubt, shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. How could someone who had claimed to love her so deeply and had spoken of a future together move on so swiftly? The realization was a bitter, choking pill to swallow.

Her heart ached with a profound sense of loss, not just of the relationship but of the person she thought Daniel was. The trust she had placed in him, the dreams they had shared, all felt like a cruel joke. She felt duped, as if she had been sold a "get-love-quick" scheme by someone who never intended to follow through on his promises. The sense of being deceived cut deeply, leaving a wound that seemed impossible to heal.

She sat there, gripping her pen tightly, her mind swirling with the betrayal she felt so deeply. Without a moment’s pause, her pen began to race across the pages of her notebook, pouring out the raw, unfiltered emotions she could no longer contain. The lyrics flowed from her as if they were the only way to make sense of the chaos within:

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her the second that we called it quits? 

And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? 

Now it sure as hell don't look like it 

You betrayed me 

And I know that you'll never feel sorry 

For the way I hurt, yeah 

You'd talk to her 

When we were together 

Loved you at your worst 

But that didn't matter 

It took you two weeks 

To go off and date her 

Guess you didn't cheat 

But you're still a traitor

With each line, she felt the searing pain of his betrayal more acutely. How could he have moved on so quickly? The words “two weeks” echoed in her mind like a relentless drumbeat, reminding her of how little time it had taken for him to replace her. The sense of being betrayed, of having her trust shattered, was almost unbearable. She had loved him at his worst, given him everything, and yet it had taken him mere days to discard their love and move on to someone new.

The realization that she was right, that he had been talking to her while they were still together added salt to the wound. It made every moment they had shared feel tainted, every promise he had made feel like a lie. The anger and hurt intertwined, fueling the lyrics that poured out of her. He might not have cheated in the traditional sense, but the emotional betrayal was just as devastating, if not more so. To her, he was a traitor, someone who had violated the sacred trust of their relationship.

The pen in her hand paused for the first time in days, the words unable to flow as freely as before. The grief was too raw, too overwhelming to articulate. She felt an intense, suffocating sadness, mixed with anger and a sense of foolishness for believing in him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her chest tightened with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Her phone storage has been filled with voice notes for the past weeks, but the number has elevated exponentially since the news had hit. Her chat with her producer has been overflowing with “What do you think of this?”, demos shared between them back and forth. 

For moments, she was consumed by raw anger, her pen becoming a weapon as she furiously wrote songs that painted him as the villain he had become in her eyes. She felt the fierce determination to make him know—and if his treacherous heart allowed, to feel—her pain.

Each line dripped with venom and sorrow, a raw portrayal of the anguish he had inflicted upon her. The thought of him reading her words and realizing the depth of her suffering provided a fleeting sense of power and justice.

But after the anger came a deep, suffocating depression. The reality of his betrayal settled over her like a heavy, oppressive fog. Each day felt like a battle to simply get out of bed, and her once vibrant spirit seemed to wither under the weight of her grief. She found herself crying at the smallest things, her emotions a raw, open wound that refused to heal.

—

One night Vitto found her in bed, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes red and swollen, looking every bit as miserable as she felt inside. Without a word, Vitto quickly gathered her in her arms, holding her tightly as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. The weight of her friend’s pain pressed heavily on Vitto’s heart, but she held her close, whispering kind and reassuring words, trying to contain the pieces of her shattered glass heart.

In a voice barely above a whisper, filled with desperation and heartbreak, she asked the questions that had been gnawing at her soul. “Why can't it be me for once, Vitto? Why can't someone choose me?” Her voice cracked with the weight of the pain she felt. “Is it so hard to love me? What's so wrong with me that no one has the will to stay?”

Vitto's heart ached at the sight of her friend so broken, so lost in her despair. She tightened her hold, pulling her closer as if she could shield her from the cruel thoughts that plagued her mind. “There's nothing wrong with you,” Vitto whispered back, her voice gentle but firm. “You are so easy to love, fofinha, and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool.” She prayed that her friend would see the truth in her words. “You deserve someone who sees you for the amazing person you are and who will never let you go.”

Vitto rocked her gently, smoothing her hair and murmuring softly. “You’re strong,” she whispered. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

That night, after the tears had subsided, she found herself sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the vast, indifferent sky. The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest as she gazed at the stars, feeling more alone than ever. 

In the quiet darkness, she whispered her desperate plea to any entity that might be listening. She wasn’t asking for fame or fortune, but for something much simpler and infinitely more precious: love. A love that wasn’t for the artist she became on stage or the persona she put on for the cameras, but for her—the real her, with all her flaws, insecurities, and hidden depths.

She was on her knees, metaphorically, begging for someone to change her fate, to alter the prophecy that seemed to doom her to be always left behind. Why couldn’t someone love her as fiercely as she loved them—or even harder?. 

The question lingered in the air, a painful echo of her deepest fears. She longed for someone who would choose her, who wouldn’t toss her aside once the initial novelty wore off and someone else, shiny and new, came along.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside her. She closed her eyes, letting the silent tears fall, each one a small release of the pain she carried. 

She wasn’t asking for much, just someone who would love her, not for what she represented, but for who she truly was. Someone who would see her, really see her, and still choose to stay. The silence of the night offered no answers, but she hoped—prayed—that somewhere, someone would hear her and bring her the love she so desperately craved. The stars offered no answers, but in the quiet of the night, she found a sliver of solace in the act of voicing her deepest wish.

—

The phone rang late in the evening, its sound piercing the quiet of the room. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen. Chloe's name flashed across it, and a part of her almost didn’t want to pick up. But Chloe had been there for her in ways she hadn’t expected, turning from an acquaintance into one of her closest friends. With a deep breath, she answered.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hey, you,” Chloe replied, her tone gentle, almost cautious. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you holding up?”

There was a brief silence, the kind that stretches out when you’re trying to find the right words to explain a pain that feels impossible to describe. “I’m… surviving, I guess. It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice wavering.

Chloe sighed on the other end, a mix of empathy and frustration evident in her breath. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. And I hate that I had to be the one to confirm it. You deserve so much better.” 

Her heart ached at the sincerity in Chloe’s words. “I don’t even know what hurts more—the fact that he moved on so quickly, or that I still can’t hate him for it. I feel like such an idiot, holding on to the person I thought he was.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Chloe reassured her. “You loved him, and you believed in him. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you have to remember that this isn’t about you, it’s about him and his inability to recognize what he had.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you. It’s just… I keep asking myself how someone can move on so quickly. I thought what we had was real. We talked about a future, Chloe. The farm, rings, babies, all of it. And then, two weeks after we break up, he’s with someone else? It just… it doesn’t make sense.” she said, her voice cracking. “How could he say all those things to me, make all those promises, and then just... move on? Like I never mattered.”

Chloe hesitated, knowing that what she had to say might sting, but also feeling that honesty was necessary. “I know, and I wish I had the right words to make it better. I don’t understand it either. But people… they’re complicated, and sometimes they don’t even realize the damage they’re causing until it’s too late. Sometimes-” she let out a sigh, “Sometimes people make decisions that don’t make any sense, that hurt the ones they’re supposed to care about the most. But that’s on him, not you. You’re allowed to grieve, to be angry, to feel everything you’re feeling.”

“Do you think he ever really loved me?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted her since the confirmation of Daniel’s new relationship, and now it hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded with vulnerability.

Chloe paused, her heart aching for her friend. “I think… I think he loved you in the way he knew how, but maybe that wasn’t the way you deserved to be loved. And that’s not your fault. It’s his loss, really. You gave him everything, and he’s the one who couldn’t appreciate it.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. “It just hurts so much, you know? I keep thinking that if I had done something differently, if I had been better, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Chloe said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. You were yourself, and that should have been enough. He’s the one who couldn’t see what he had in front of him. But I see you, and so do the people who really care about you. You’re not alone in this.”

The girl swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for Chloe’s words, for her friendship. “Thank you, Chloe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, no matter what,” Chloe replied warmly. 

As the conversation between the girl and Chloe lingered, an uncomfortable question bubbled up within her. She hesitated, biting her lip before finally asking, “Chloe, how is Heidi? Is she… nice? She looks like she is.”

Chloe paused on the other end, considering her words carefully. “She is nice,” she admitted softly. “She’s kind and sweet, and she seems like a good person.”

The girl swallowed hard, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. “I figured as much,” she said, her voice tinged with a quiet resignation. “At the beginning, I wanted to tear her apart, you know? I wanted to pick out every flaw she had, convince myself she wasn’t good enough. But I couldn’t do that… because she just looks so nice and kind. It’s almost like it made everything worse, knowing that I couldn’t even hate her.”

Chloe sighed, understanding the conflict in her friend’s heart. “It’s natural to feel that way, to want to protect yourself by finding reasons to dislike her. But you’re also showing so much strength by acknowledging that she’s not the enemy. It’s okay to feel conflicted.”

The girl nodded, though her throat tightened. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much, Chloe. I wish I could be happy for him, for them. But it’s hard when it feels like I’ve been discarded, replaced by someone who seems perfect in every way.”

“Listen,” Chloe said, her voice firm yet gentle, “you’re human, and it’s okay to feel hurt and conflicted. But don’t let those feelings define you. You’re more than what he made you feel, and you deserve someone who will see all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between”

“I know,” she whispered, though the knowledge didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. “It’s just hard to accept sometimes.”

“It is,” Chloe agreed. “But you’ll get there. One step at a time. And remember, just because she’s nice doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. You’re allowed to grieve what you’ve lost, even if it’s complicated.”

—

Slowly, the depression began to give way to a semblance of acceptance—or something that resembled it. It wasn’t forgiveness, nor was it forgetting, but a grudging acknowledgment that clinging to the pain and anger would only prolong her agony.

She continued to write, but the tone of her lyrics shifted. They were still tinged with sadness and loss, but there was also a hint of desperation and sometimes hope.

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

[...]

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies.

[...]

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

Acceptance came in small, painful increments. It was in the quiet moments when Baby Iza’s tiny hand rested on her cheek, or when Vitto and Andrew’s unwavering support reminded her that she was not alone. It was in the act of writing itself, where she could pour out her heart and begin to untangle the threads of grief and loss.

As she sat on the grass, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around her, she realized that while Daniel’s betrayal had broken her, it had not destroyed her. She would rebuild herself, piece by piece, word by word, until she was whole again. Despite everything, she was still standing.

Through the anger, the depression, and the acceptance, she learned that she had the strength to endure. The scars from this heartbreak would always be there, but they would also be a testament to her resilience and her capacity to heal. And in those moments of writing, she knew she would emerge from this experience stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.

[shirefantasies]

I wanna kiss Feren and comb his hair while he relaxes after a long day 😞 he looks so tired of everything (Love Thranduil but I would be on my last strand of sanity if I worked for him too)

I also feel like he greatly adores cats, like he's definitely snuck a kitten into work because he couldn't leave it all alone

You know what? Yes. Also, ✨two posts✨ from drafts this week because this one is so small (gif by @lokidlaufeyson, will delete from here if asked to!)

Breathe You In- Feren x Elf!Reader Drabble

Not an uncommon sight was it to catch Feren with a look of exasperation or even exhaustion upon his face. The king may have been fair, not quick to inflict harsh punishments upon his people, but that did not preclude him from making streams of demands, words which sent Feren this way and that, often after to inquire after or warn the prince. Certainly it came about due to Thranduil’s trust of your beloved-a status you were unsure the woodland king was even aware of- but sometimes you just wished you could march up to the great throne and tell him to quit treating such a wonderful and capable soul like an errand boy.

As he sat upon the bed, Feren breathed quite the sigh, shaking his head. “I must have ran across the entire kingdom and back today.”

Hands falling to his shoulders, you ran them lightly down, applying a bit of pressure and feeling tension melt from his muscles beneath it. With a look of bliss, he turned his head to meet your eyes, and the both of you shut your eyes and melted together into a kiss the moment gazes locked. Your hand slide down to run along his toned chest, his breaths coming slowly and languidly as your long kiss.

Feren held you against his forehead with a hand as you disconnected, both of you drawing a longer breath in unison. Clear as it was by his sudden grip what Feren's desire was, there you remained, hand over his heart and lungs filling with his air as it mingled with yours.

Finally, you broke the silence. "Turn around, my love."

Obeying, Feren rotated, shifting to accommodate you as you loosened his cape and set it aside, taking instead his flowing locks of brown hair and draping them like a long, silky curtain along the line of his spine. You felt a slight tense of protest beneath his tunic when your hands lifted from his body completely, but they returned posthaste, an ivory comb in hand. Fingers running delicately through his soft hair, you pursued each motion with the teeth of the comb, one never catching the other before another lock was taken in hand. Once again, you felt your beloved's body melt against you.

"Tell me more about your day," you encouraged, voice soft, "unless you would rather not."

You feel Feren sigh before you hear it. "Oh," he waved a hand, "so first I am sent to speak on behalf of the king to some suppliers of some sort-"

Smiling softly, you shook your head a bit, reaching over to the nightstand to dab some oil on your hands and humming disapprovingly at the obstinate shipmen. Your home was never short of stories, that was certain, you reflected as you worked the oil through Feren's hair.

"...But it was all worth it to come home to you, my darling."

"Oh, you flatterer."

"No," taking your face in his hands, Feren shook his head, his dark eyes fixed firmly upon yours, "verily. I mean it, that were I not so lucky in your companionship, your unyielding love and care, I am quite sure Thranduil would have driven me mad by now. Thank you for loving me."

"It is the easiest thing on this earth to do," you whispered back, leaning in closer and pecking his lips, "but you are more than welcome, my dear."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Thirty-Nine

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Family.

Previous Chapters - Masterlist

A/N: And here is the second and final part of the date. Meep! I just wanted to say thank you so much for sticking with this story for so long. I appreciate and adore every single one of you. Thank you for your reblogs, shares, hearts, and comments. They mean so much to me.

After the unplanned, yet refreshing nap, the two teenagers were ready to continue with the rest of their date.

"So have you planned anything for the day?" Orora asked as they walked towards the small town that also served as a marketplace for the visiting patrons. Zuko had pulled on his hood again, to avoid anyone recognizing him. It would be easy to spot him in the crowd should she loose him. Though that would be impossible since he was holding on to her hand like he never wanted to let go.

"It's a rough draft. And a work in process." He replied honestly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Not like I've done anything like this before." The Prince added, allowing some of the nervousness he felt to slip into his tone as he continued. "I should warn you, because I don't want you to be disappointed." He paused in their walk so he could face her. "Don't expect to be swept off your feet or anything. That's not how I do things."

Zuko didn't believe in grand gestures. Whenever he had the chance to encounter anyone who would go up and beyond to please the person they loved, he figured they were making up for some mistake they had made, or compensating for something.

Letting out a rather unattractive snort of laughter, which Zuko admitted to himself he found adorable, Orora reached under his hood to ruffle his hair. "You don't have to worry about that Zuko. Because what I do know, is that whatever you have planned, or will plan in the future." She gently tapped his shirt, the area under which his heart was beating, steady and sure. "It'll come from here."

Smiling and pressing a fond kiss to his scar, the Waterbender began to walk down the path. Unaware of the effect she had on her boyfriend, who stared at her with just the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

He may have the advantage of making her blush when he flirted with her, Orora, however, had the power to make leave him flustered and unsure, in a good way, about what to do next, with her faith and belief in him.

It took a few more steps before Orora realized her boyfriend wasn't following her. With a playful roll of her eyes, she marched back, grabbed his hand and began to tug him forward. "Come on! I'm starving! Those candies and fire flakes were hours ago."

With a smile that could only be described as smitten playing about his face, Zuko followed her lead.

                                          ————————–

Since the usual time for dinners at restaurants started after sunset, and the two of them were more then an hour early, they got the best seats. Right by a window, overlooking the beach. "You know I had only ever been to a restaurant twice before I left the Water Tribe." Orora commented, once they had given their orders to the polite server. She was looking around at the beautiful decorations that made up the interior of the restaurant. Sitting on the floor across from her, Zuko raised an eyebrow. "Because the Water Tribe didn't have many restaurants?" He teased, prompting Orora to shoot him an annoyed look, which he grinned at.

"No." She defended. "More like the women in our family were meant to stay home like the good obedient wives and daughters they were meant to be." The anger in her voice was evident, as was the glimmer of it in her ice blue eyes. Thinking that maybe having her talk a little about it would help her let go of her anger, Zuko decided to prod further. "And what were the two occasions when you went out to a restaurant?"

The girl shrugged. "One was an invitation from the Chief himself. A celebration for some achievement my oldest brother attained." The dismissive tone had Zuko smiling slightly as he pictured Orora trying to get through a dinner by having to be polite and quiet. The arrival of their drinks had both teenagers pausing briefly in their conversation. Orora took a refreshing sip of the mango juice she had ordered, smiling at the sweet taste coating her mouth. Smacking her lips, she set her glass down and turned her gaze back to Zuko who was still sipping on his watermelon juice.

"And the second was when my father secured a marriage proposal for me."

Her revelation had Zuko inhaling sharply while he drank, prompting him to cough, the juice getting caught at the back of his throat. Orora winced as she leaned forward, the concern obvious in her eyes as she said. "Are you alright?" With one final thump to his own chest, and another sip to help settle his throat, Zuko nodded. "I'm fine." He replied, his voice a little hoarse as he wiped the corner of his eyes where they had started to water from coughing so hard. "I forget you were almost engaged to someone." He admitted, a dark frown creasing his brow, as if the very thought of Orora being with someone before he had even met her offended him.

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "It's not as if anything came of it. I ran away before the official betrothal necklace was given to me, so technically, I wasn't engaged to him." And a good thing too. Orora had no desire to have any links to her past, because lets face it, there was nothing there that appealed to her.

Well, maybe except her Mother. Only because she felt pity for her, and not out of the love she had for her.

Not like Zuko, she thought to herself, casting her boyfriend a look that had him raising an eyebrow in question. She shrugged. "Nothing, I guess I'm just a little envious of relationship you had with your Mother." She admitted. "I figured you weren't close to her." Zuko said, thinking back on how she barely mentioned the woman. "Was it because she forced you to follow the rules, or something else?" Unconsciously, his hand slid across the table to cover hers in a comforting grip.

Orora pursed her lips. "More like, she stood by and did nothing." The girl sighed, a sad lilt in her voice as she continued. "My grandmother, my mother's mother, used to say I reminded her of her daughter when she was younger. That I had the same fire she had. But I never saw that. I only ever saw a woman who would bow her head and quietly obey whatever her husband and sons demanded of her." Her gaze flitted to the view outside the window, where the sun had begun to set, casting the it's light across the ocean as the waves broke against the beach. "I guess." She continued, her voice soft and low. "Whatever spirit she had left was leeched out of her, a long time ago by my Father."

Silence followed her words, as they both sat there, staring out of the window, their minds racing, thinking and pondering on just how different and yet similar their family lives had been. The one thing they had bonded over so long ago beside that lake, during their time as refugees.

"You know, considering the family you had, it's amazing you turned out the way you did." Zuko commented, to which Orora scoffed and rolled her eyes. "If we're going to do that comparison, then you win in the depraved and demented family department. Minus, yourself, your Mother and Iroh, of course."

The mention of his Uncle, had Zuko's heart twinging with guilt as he retracted his hand from Orora's and clenched them in fists. "I'm still so ashamed for what I did to him in Ba Sing Se. And the things I said to him when he was in prison." He admitted, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

The length of the table between them was an empty space she didn't like. She was too far away from him. Which was why Orora rose from her place, and in two strides, was sitting down cross-legged beside Zuko. She took his hand, much like he had taken hers a few minutes ago and tilted her head down so she could meet his gaze from where he had his head bowed in shame.

"You made a mistake Zuko. That's all it was. And you made up for it by turning against your family and your entire Nation to help us fight the war. And since you've been with us, you've done so much. You've helped Aang with his firebending. You helped Sokka rescue his Father and Soulmate from prison. You helped Katara finally come to terms with her Mother's death. And you're the perfect victim when it comes to Toph's teasing." The last one had an involuntary laugh falling from his lips, as he tilted his head upwards to, unable to help the smile she coaxed out of him.

"Besides." She continued. "Once we win this war, you and I can go on a little trip ourselves and try to find him. I'm sure Aang will let us borrow Appa." Zuko squeezed her hand, drawing comfort from the warm softness. "That's what scares me. What if we find him, and he doesn't forgive me for what I did. Not that I deserve it." He muttered the last part to himself, which earned him an eye roll from his girlfriend.

As well as a slap to the back of his head. "Hey!" He protested, his hand lifting to rub the tender area. He turned to shoot her a look, but thought better of it when he caught her glaring at him instead. "You even think of going down that self-pitying, 'oh I'm worthless and never to be forgiven for what I did' road, and I swear Zuko I will leave you here right now." She claimed, already pushing herself on her knees to stand up.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I won't go there." Zuko mirrored her movement, placing his hands on her shoulders and gently guiding her to sit back down. The girl crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "Do you really think your Uncle won't forgive you? I've only known him a few months Zuko, and I know that he loves you so much that he wouldn't even have to think about it."

Silence followed her little proclamation. Zuko sat there, his heart feeling light for the first time in weeks. All because of what she had just said. Somehow, so far, whatever Orora had claimed and deduced about him, had always been true.

She was still glaring at him. And no matter how much he liked seeing her riled up, with that glint in her ice blue eyes, and the way she looked like she would have no qualms about hitting him again, Zuko had no desire to be beat up by his girlfriend in public.

"I did think that, but I'll take your word for it and hope that he forgives me." He finally said, watching as Orora nodded in satisfaction. "Good to see your skull isn't as thick as it was when I met you." She playfully knocked against the side of his head with her knuckles. Chuckling, Zuko pushed away her hand, the remnant dark clouds hanging around his head dissipating as he smiled at her.

Suddenly, Orora laughed softly, prompting Zuko to look at her quizzically. "What?" He asked smiling, though he had no qualms about her laughing because in his opinion she didn't laugh enough. The girl shook her head. "Nothing. It's just.......this morning, I was thinking how we already knew one another's trauma and demons and we wouldn't have to go into all that bad stuff, and yet here we are." She gestured between them. Zuko shrugged. "At least we're never bored." He offered as a positive to which Orora nodded. "No." She admitted. "And I doubt we will ever be bored and tired of each other."

No, he thought silently to himself, his warm gaze never once wavering from her pretty face. Reaching out, he pushed back a loose tendril of her white hair, tracing the shape of her ear with the tip of his finger as he did. "I know I won't ever get tired of looking at you." He admitted, watching as her eyes widened in happy surprise, as a shy smile pulled at her lips. Her lips parted, as if she were about to say something, but she paused.

Unable to find the words, and not liking the way how his eyes were glowing with the triumph over the fact that he her rendered her speechless, Orora playfully pushed him away with a shove to his chest. He caught himself before he fell, laughing as he did.

Luckily, the food arrived before he could retaliate, which averted both their attention as they dug in.

During the remainder of her meal, Orora didn't return to her seat across the table.

                                          ————————–

The rest of the dinner was spent conversing over lighter topics and eating their fill. Halfway through the spice had started to get to Orora, prompting her to order two more mango drinks. She was getting used to the spice though. Zuko was actually proud of her for trying the broth he had ordered for himself. It was extra spicy, and she only took a few spoonfuls of it.

By the time they emerged from the restaurant, the sun had set, and the lamps were lit all along the streets. People were walking around, the shops were still open, and the scent of the food various vendors were cooking masked the smell of the ocean nearby. Not that Orora minded that smell.

"So, where to next?" Orora asked, watching Zuko adjust the hood of his cloak from where it had begun to slip. He had worn it throughout their dinner. She wished they could go somewhere he could take the hood off, so she could see his face properly.

Zuko smiled, tugging at her hand, which he had taken the moment they'd stepped out of the restaurant. "There's this traveling performers who put up plays, and I heard they're doing Love Amongst the Dragons tonight." He told her, trying his best not to let his own excitement show. Orora nodded as she smiled. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I have an expert on that play as my boyfriend who can explain it to me if I get lost." She teased him, to which he rolled his eyes at her. "Come on. If we get there early, we'll get good seats."

"Oh yes. You-I mean I wouldn't want to miss a single word by sitting in the back."

And they did get good seats, right in the center of the small temporary set up that served as the seating area in front of the stage. It wasn't a grand set up by any means, but the play made up for it in more ways then one.

From the moment the lights dimmed, the chatter fell away, and the first actor stepped on stage, Orora was entranced. The story played out just as Zuko had told it the previous day, yet the actors brought the characters to life in ways she had never thought possible.

She barely uttered a word as the play progressed, emotions rising and falling like the waves she loved to watch so much. Zuko, who had seen the play in the past on several occasions, found his gaze torn between what was happening on stage, and the plethora of emotions that was playing out across Orora's face as the play progressed. Though she was more open with what she was feeling then in the past, Zuko always found her to be too guarded at times.

This was the first time in a long while there was no metaphorical veil for her to hide behind. Her emotions were free and unrestrained, just like his feelings for her, he thought to himself as he smiled.

Orora wasn't ashamed to admit that she teared up when the two lovers reunited in the end. Neither did she object to Zuko wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close halfway through the play.

As the two lovers embraced one final time, the audience rose to applaud the performance, with the two Soulmates joining along.

"I enjoyed it more then I thought I would." Orora stated, sounding a little surprised herself. Honestly, she had thought it wouldn't catch her attention, but in the end the actors, the story and the characters captivated her just as much as ice sculpting did.

Zuko, glad that she had enjoyed it just as much as he had, smiled. "Well your boyfriend has good taste." He stated, sounding a little too smug for her liking. "More like an obsession." She muttered, before darting out from his range as he tried to pinch her in retaliation.

"Alright now that we've done an activity you liked-"

"Which you also enjoyed."

"-yes, yes. Which I also enjoyed. It's my turn!"

"What did you have in mind?"

                                          ————————–

The bush rustled as it spoke.

"Move over! I can't see!" In a distinctly feminine voice.

"You don't need to see." The bush responded to itself, now in a masculine voice. "You're blind!"

"I meant move your feet." The female voice came again. The voice was followed by two heads popping out of the bush, hair full of loose leaves and twigs.

"Would you two stop fighting." Aang appeared beside Sokka and Toph. "I can't hear them!" He trained his ear in a general direction, using his airbending to pick up familiar voices.

Katara's head poked out beside Aang. "I think I heard them say something about a game as they passed earlier." She said, eager to share her knowledge.

Suki, who was the last to emerge from their leafy hideout, raised an eyebrow at Katara. "I thought you said we shouldn't do this."

Never one to let an opportunity to berate his sister go, mostly because she did it to him on a daily basis, Sokka nodded. "Yeah! And now you're the one more invested then all of us."

Rolling her eyes, Katara picked a few leaves from her hair. "Well call me curious or nosy, I don't care. I'm just hoping they finally kiss and stop mopping about it."

Her brother shuddered. "And stop giving each other those disgusting looks. Bleh." He gagged.

Toph poked him painfully in the shoulder to get his attention. "You do realize that will only increase after they kiss?" She reminded him, while Aang nodded.

"Not to mention we'll probably catch them kissing more then once." He added, his grey eyes flitting to his Soulmate almost unconsciously before he went back to try and listen in on the conversation happening several feet away.

"Argh! Why can't they just be in love and not kiss?" Sokka pouted, crossing his arms over his chest as he did. Suki gave him a look. "Really? So would you not want to kiss me then?"

While the other three giggled at Sokka's obvious slip up, the Water Tribe boy turned to his girlfriend with a panicked expression. "I didn't say that!" He exclaimed.

Aang, who had suddenly caught wind of two very familiar voices, panicked. "Monkey Feathers! Hide!"

Heads popped back into the bush, minus Sokka who was looking around confused.

"Wha-why? AH!" He was pulled into the bushes by an annoyed sister and disgruntled Soulmate.

                                          ————————–

"How long have they been following us?" Zuko asked casually, throwing the ball in the air and catching it as the two of them began to walk down the path again. Orora giggled, her peripheral vision allowing her to see Sokka and Aang duck out of sight behind a stall of watermelons. "Since the play. I'm surprised they didn't find us earlier." She said, walking a few paces ahead and holding her hands out, indicating Zuko to throw the ball at her.

He did, smiling when she caught it deftly and began to juggle it from one hand to the other. They'd stopped at a little game stall, where Orora had cheated the already cheating vendor by using her waterbending to knock down the water containers that were nailed to the floor. The aim of the game was to hit them with a ball to make them fall and since that wasn't about to happen, Orora had decided to take slightly drastic measures.

Especially when she had seen a little girl on the verge of tears after loosing twice.

She'd won the girl a doll, and had taken another prize. A ball that she'd given to Zuko with a grin.

"I have a way we can loose them." Zuko suggested, approaching Orora and ignoring how Katara, Suki and Toph were trying their best to hide behind a stand of jewellery, just a few feet away from them.

Orora grinned. "What did you have in mind?" She asked.

Zuko grinned.

                                          ————————–

"Why are they separating?" Suki muttered to Aang as the two of them huddled behind a flyer that barely hid them. The boy peaked over the paper, eyes following the retreating figures of Orora and Zuko.

As they walked off in the opposite directions.

Katara, who had taken to wearing a mask she'd purchased from a vendor, frowned. "I thought the date was going well." She mused, glancing in her brother's direction, who was also supporting a mask. Albeit one that was utterly ridiculous and drew attention rather then make him discrete. "Let's split up and follow them." Aang suggested as Toph joined their little impromptu meeting, supporting two sticks of meat in each hand, not even bothering to hide herself.

Sokka grabbed Suki's hand and raced off after Orora, while Katara and Aang decided Zuko's trail.

Toph, feeling them walk away, sighed before shaking her head.

Turning where she stood, the girl made her way to the final destination she knew they would reach.

And sure enough, at the very edge of the town, Toph sat atop a boulder and enjoyed the food she'd bought. The first to arrive, were Katara and Aang. The two stubbornly idiotic Soulmates stared at Toph. "What're you doing here? Where's Zuko?" Katara asked, looking around as Aang checked behind the boulder to make sure they had covered all their basics.

"They were on to us Sugar Queen." Toph revealed, just as Sokka and Suki joined them. "I heard Zuko tell Orora about the hidden paths they could take and give you guys the slip." She finished off her food, unaware of the annoyed and disgruntled looks her friends were giving her.

"You could've told us." Aang muttered under his breath, annoyed at having the fun cut short. He'd been enjoying spying a little too much.

Toph grinned. "What? And miss the expressions on your face?"

"You can't even see!"

"A minor detail."

                                          ————————–

Laughing as they raced down the well hidden path that led them into the wilderness of the island, the two Soulmates came to a halt.

"I think we lost them." Orora gasped out, her lips pulled into a wide smile as she glanced over her shoulder. Zuko shook his head. "This is their first time on the Island. They'll never be able to find this path." He reassured her, adjusting his hood, missing the way Orora's blue gaze traced the outline of the offending item with disdain.

She frowned. "So you're saying, not a lot of people know about this path?" She asked, to which he nodded. "The locals do, and even they barely come along here." He admitted.

That was all the assurance Orora needed.

In a stride she was standing in front of her boyfriend and was untying the hood from where it was fastened just under his chin.

A little taken aback by her close proximity, the Prince blinked. "Wh-what're y-" He didn't get the chance to voice his question, as Orora pushed the cloak from his shoulders, the hood of it slipping from his head and falling to the ground with a dull thud.

At the sight of his face, unobstructed by the shadow of the hood, Orora smiled. "That's better." She spoke softly, fingers running through his always messy hair. "I missed seeing your face." The girl admitted, her expression just as tender as her voice, the fingers trailing down from his hair to trace his cheek and jaw.

If she saw the blush that suddenly streaked across his face, Orora made no comment of it.

They just stood there for awhile, lost in one another. Blue against amber.

"I want to show you something." Zuko said, finally finding the words he'd been lacking as he gently took her hand, not noticing the way their strings tangled together, glowing bright and steady. He began to lead, with Orora following his request.

The trust that burned in her heart, was unlike any she had ever felt.

And for someone who had to rely on herself, it was a rather nice feeling.

An understatement, but then in that moment, as she followed Zuko deeper into the wilderness, nothing else came to mind.

                                          ————————–

The last time he had walked along this path was when he had come with his family. The small discovery had been one of pure chance, and was one meant to be shared with the world.

And yet he never mentioned it to anyone.

He'd come back to it several times as a child, but this would be the first time he would be coming back to the location.

He hoped he still remembered the way.

"Where are we going?" Orora asked, a little confused to see the determined expression on her boyfriend's face. He came to a halt, his eyes focusing on a rather familiar looking rock formation. "This is it." He smiled, his ears picking up the sound that had become so familiar to him all those years ago. "Come on!"

"Zuko, what...."

Whatever she had been about to question her Soulmate was lost as the rounded the rocky structure and were met with a truly gorgeous sight.

The clearing was surrounded by towering palm trees and other manner of tropical foliage. But all that was nothing compared to the several small waterfalls pouring out from the rock formation, trickling down into the pond that snaked away into the trees somewhere. Several smooth rocks were jutting out of the water, looking as if they were stepping stones, leading to the waterfalls themselves.

The clear waters seemed to shine under the light of the moon, and the sound of the falling water was soothing, almost like a gentle hum a mother would sing to her baby to help go to sleep.

"What is this place?" Orora whispered, afraid she would break the tranquility of the moment if she spoke loudly. Standing next to her and watching her react exactly how he had hoped, Zuko smiled, slowly leading her towards the edge of the pond. "I found it when I was a kid. I guess it's one of the places that are still undiscovered on this island."

Still mesmerized by the sight that was in front of her, Orora missed the way Zuko's amber gaze spotted something. He dropped her hand to pick it, before returning to her side.

He tapped her on the shoulder, prompting the girl to turn to him with a smile, only to gasp in delight at what he held out for her.

"I realized I've never given you one." He admitted, smiling softly as he watched her take the Fire Lily from his fingers, and bring it to her nose to inhale the sweet scent. "Thank you." She said, her gaze turned up towards him. After a moment, the girl placed the flower behind her left ear.

Unbeknownst to either of them, when someone placed a flower behind their left ear, it was to indicate that the person was taken.

And in that moment, Orora had never been more taken by Zuko.

"It looks beautiful." Zuko said, tucking the flower more securely, allowing his hand to linger in her hair as his eyes glowed with the feelings he had for his Soulmate.

"You're beautiful." He admitted, his voice just as ardent as he regarded her with a look that had her stepping even closer then she already was. "When we were separated." She said, referring to those months of pain and suffering they had both spent. "I had a dream about you once, promising me that you would come back to me."

His eyes widened in slight shock, lips parting to voice his surprise, but she continued. "I didn't believe the dream, because I didn't want to give myself false hope." She admitted, her voice trembling slightly as she closed her eyes, trying to push away the thoughts of sheer sadness and despair that had filled her not long ago, and yet it felt like it had been years since that time.

"But I'm glad I was wrong." Lifting her head from where she had pressed it against his chest, unable to meet his eyes, until now. Now, though, she looked at him with a kind of fervency that had him wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her even close.

"Because then I wouldn't have been able to do this."

Was this it?

Were they about to share their first kiss?

Zuko seemed to think so, as his head leaned towards her, slowly closing the distance between their lips, his eyes closing.

Where he had been expecting something completely different, the young Prince felt something cold and wet hit the side of his head. As he sputtered and rubbed his eyes to get the water out, his clothes soaked through, he heard Orora laughing in delight as she pulled out of his embrace, and skated along the length of the pond, stopping in the middle atop a floating disc of ice.

"You look surprised Zuko. Were you expecting something else?" She called to him, trying to keep up an innocent expression. Only to burst out laughing as she watched the steam rise from his shoulders where the water began to evaporate as he glared at her.

She may have the advantage of being in her element, but Zuko had the upper hand when it came to speed. A little too busy laughing, Orora didn't notice him leaping from one stepping stone to the other. Only when he was one leap away did she notice. A squeak of surprise cut her mid laughter, as she tried to skate out of his range.

A little too late, as Zuko managed to catch her by the elbow, his jump and her attempt to escape him, throwing them both off balance, and straight into the pond. It was only a few feet deep, though the dip was enough for the both of them to be thoroughly soaked. Zuko emerged from the watery depths first, followed by Orora. And when the boy made to grab her once again, she retaliated by splashing him with the water she'd scooped up in her mouth.

Sputtering and giggling, the girl quickly swam out of his reach once more, with Zuko hot on her tail.

And so began a playful game of keep away, with Orora doing her best to dodge Zuko's attempts to pin her, by either simply dancing or swimming away, or using her waterbending to her advantage. For his part, Zuko was relentless and stubborn. He had never been one to give up easily, and the little game they played only solidified that aspect of his personality.

The small clearing echoed with the sound of splashing water, shrieks, shouts of triumph that turned to groans of disappointment, and laughter that was both mirthful and mischievous.

Stepping behind the waterfall, underneath an overhanging rock, she watched Zuko approach her, pausing just beyond the gently cascading water. He could make out her figure standing there just a step or two away. And though he wanted to continue the game, Zuko felt the shift in the air between them as their gazes met through the water.

He held out a hand in silent surrender and plea, smiling when she took it. Stepping back, Zuko watched as his Soulmate emerged from behind the waterfall, soaked through and looking disheveled. And yet, with that gentle smile on her lips, and the warmth and laughter that shone in her eyes, she had never looked more beautiful.

It was rare to see Zuko act so freely and laugh as if he had no care in the world. Too much weighed on his shoulders, and Orora's heart clenched with happiness at seeing him so happy. Water dripped from his hair, prompting her to reach up and caress his forehead, pushing the strands away from his eyes.

And that level of affection, that simple gesture of caring, was all it took for Zuko to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her body against his. Orora responded by intertwining the fingers of the hand that already held his. Her head was tilted back slightly as her gaze turned shy, though she didn't look away. Truthfully, she was unable to. Because the way Zuko was looking at her in that moment, as if she were more precious to him then anything in the world, it was something she wanted to remember forever.

Whatever laughter they had shared, whatever teasing moments they had had just a few moments ago melted away like ice under the sun. All that mattered to Zuko was that he finally had her, and he would never let her go.

This time, Orora was the one to lean up, slowly closing the distance between their lips, using the hand that was resting against his cheek, to angle his head. He'd been the first to kiss her last time. He'd taken the chance to show her that she meant something to him.

This time, she would take that step. Orora wanted him to know she cared and adored him just as much as he did her. Perhaps more.

Their eyes slid close as their noses brushed for a heartbeat.

A pause.

One last, agonizing pause.

Before their lips finally met in a fervent embrace.

Their hearts beat as one. Their breaths mingled. Their souls sang.

And their strings?

They flared with color.

Bright and incandescent.

Hers red.

His blue.

The world had fallen away.

There was only him.

There was only her.

Just as Fate had meant for them to be.

Together.

The sound of multiple cheers was what brought them back to reality.

Reluctantly, Orora pulled away, her eyes fluttering open, heart melting at the expression on Zuko's face. One of complete and utter tranquility.

The shouting and cheering seemed to crescendo as he opened his eyes. Not wanting to pull away just yet, Zuko pressed his forehead against hers, sharing her breath.

"Is playing in the water gonna be a foreplay thing for you guys?" Came Sokka's voice amidst the cheers. Suki thunked her boyfriend on the head, though her attempt to punish him was halfhearted as she grinned at her friend. Toph was smiling from ear to ear. "Don't let me catch the two of you in secluded spots like these two!" She jerked a thumb in Suki and Sokka's direction, the latter of whom protested loudly.

Aang's gaze drifted from the embracing couple to Katara, who seemed to be glowing with happiness at the prospect of her sister getting her happy ending. He hoped, one day, she would look at him, the way Orora was looking at Zuko. He turned his attention back to the couple still standing in the water, completely missing the way Katara's gaze slid in his direction, hope and yearning evident in her blue eyes.

Across the pond, Zuko couldn't help but sigh in disappointment at having the moment being cut off quickly. Orora soothed him with a quick kiss to his lips.

"The first of many." She promised him, before pulling away. The Prince nodded, raising the hand that still held hers and brush his lips against her knuckles.

"The first of many."

With that mutual promise, the two teenagers stepped out of their little bubble to the relentless teasing of their little family.

                                             ————————–

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[pharaohbean]

invitation

original upload: june 22nd 2024 on ao3

summary: "'Dan Heng knew the dark well. Dan Heng did not like the dark. And so Dan Heng screamed out into the void for someone to save him.' Dan Heng's thirst for knowledge (and duty as the Archivist of the Astral Express) gets him into tough situations that even he can't pull himself out of. However, they will always be a shooting star nearby."

tags: Dan Heng/Boothill, Dan Heng/Trailblazer, March 7th/Stelle | Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Inspired By Poetry, Pre-Relationship, I Wrote This Instead Of Sleeping

warnings: none

author's note: "i churned this out at 1am all of a sudden after three separate drafts. what the f--- inspired by a poem (did you know literature is my worst subject)"

Dan Heng was not unfamiliar with the dark. However, he wished that that wasn't the case.

Years, decades, maybe even a century—his time spent in the Shackling Prison had not been kind to him even in the simplest of things like keeping time—spent in captivity, even before he emerged from his egg, had made the former High Elder harshly familiar with the darkness and the horrors it brought. Perhaps only because of the pain he’d suffered at the beginning of his life could he now stay calm in his current situation.

He dragged himself off of the stone brick ground, moss covering the Eras-weathered pathway, with Cloud Piercer rammed into the ground and acted as his pillar. His memories were muddled as he desperately tried to remember how he’d gotten in such a position—why unconscious (dead? Unsure, it was dark) bodies were scattered behind him, why no one from the Express was with him, why—

A flash of bioluminescent sea green had him whipping his head around. Bright blue-green serpentine eyes, dozens of pairs of them, crawled out of the abyss and lit up as they approached him.

They did not look friendly. They were not friendly, Dan Heng remembered that much. It was one against an army, and well—

The Imbibitor Lunae was infamously known for not going down without a fight.

As Archivist of the Astral Express, it was Dan Heng’s duty to make sure that any and all info in the Data Bank was as up-to-date as possible. With some worlds like Jarlio-VI, that simply wasn’t possible—the Space Anchors may have been deactivated due to unuse, or never existed in the first place. But if Dan Heng could fact-check it himself, he would.

It was on one of these solo expeditions—to a low-end yet vibrant planet named Alladonia, an entry just needing some brushing up on—when Dan Heng heard something that caught his interest.

Four men were planning an expedition to a nearby set of ruins—only revealed to them through a cryptic message delivered by an even more cryptic member of the Garden of Recollection—and were talking about hiring a Pathstrider to guard them. Apparently only one of them was a Pathstrider and a Pathstrider of Harmony in your group wasn’t very useful if none of you could fight.

His curiosity piqued, Dan Heng approached the group and asked them about their expedition. Their leader revealed that during their day-to-day life, the Garden of Recollection gave him a very strange… poem? Riddle? And that it would lead him to immeasurable power if they got there first. Dan Heng sighed inside—of course it did—but his thirst for knowledge would not be deterred. So he offered his services, simply wanting to document anything he found there and maybe a little money to cover lodgings and whatnot. The men, overjoyed, agreed.

The journey to the abandoned city was long but mostly uneventful; soon, the group had arrived at their location. Upon reciting the riddle (Dan Heng was half convinced it was a poem with the leader’s emphasized pauses at odd moments) the large stone doors cleverly disguised as mere sides of a cliff opened wide, casting light down into the city carved into two sides of a ravine, but still not enough to illuminate its lower levels.

The five of them had ventured down and down, exploring every little nook and cranny for any info they could find. The riddle/poem was not very helpful in what came next, so they brainstormed on a large platform in the side of the ravine—a town square of sorts, Dan Heng surmised. A large stone bridge crossed the ravine, where a dark river sat gently flowing.

And then the large glowing lizards appeared suddenly, soundless in the dark and attacked their near-defenseless group group and—

Oh. Dan Heng was falling off the bridge now into the river below.

It was warm and cold.

He felt like he was back inside of his egg, tightly insulated from the outside world, and yet the biting cold of the Shackling Prison(?) still seeped through, stabbing him in places he could not reach.

He tried to move his body, open his eyes, do something , but nothing responded to his calls. He screamed and yelled and begged and nothing escaped his lips; tears would fall, never to be seen since they could not be freed.

Then, in his mind’s eye, he saw a shooting star come rushing towards him—a blazing sign of hope and promises. It reminded him of the sight in Penacony, when those people from all over the galaxy had been called together just to provide a moment’s disturbance for the fatal counter-strike.

Dan Heng knew the dark well. Dan Heng did not like the dark. And so Dan Heng screamed out into the void for someone to save him.

When he finally managed to stir, he took into account all five of his sense at once:

Wrapped around his body was a thick, slightly scratchy blanket that made him feel tightly secure—like his egg or his bed at the Express. He could feel flickering heat near him, its warmth caressing his face.

Saltwater (or polluted water, unsure) hung on his tongue; he swallowed on reflex, trying to clear the mildly disgusting taste from his mouth.

The scent of fish wafted into his nose, bringing back memories of times before—good and bad, from hauntings of the Luofu to photographs of the Express.

The crackling of a burning fire filled the empty silence, reminding him of the whirring of the Archives; soon, the fire was joined by the rustle and jangle of metal shifting around and click-clacking across stone bricks to be by his side.

Finally, Dan Heng peeked his eyes open to be met by the warm, hazy glow of the fire and a body crouched next to his. Metal body, no shirt, black and white hair, and eyes that were always targeting someone or something .

“Boot… hill?” Dan Heng mumbled, brow furrowing. His vision blurred and his head swam as he tried to sit up. “Where…?”

“Take it easy there, partner,” Boothill’s mechanical voice said, a hand on Dan Heng’s chest coaxing him back down. “You’ve had quite the adventure, judging by your state.”

Dan Heng tried to think for a moment, but was knocked off his train of thought by a cup of water at his lips. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of drinking the river’s water, and Boothill’s laugh echoed through the place.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it! It’s not from that dirty old river,” the Galaxy Ranger reassured him. Dan Heng hummed hoarsely, then gratefully gulped down the offered cup—slowly, with each long gulp, his mental processes returned to him one by one.

Once the cup was finished, Dan Heng watched as Boothill rifled through a bag on the side, then looked around his surroundings. It seemed that Boothill had set up camp in one of the many lifeless homes, nondescript outside of their unique carvings on the walls.

“What happened?” Dan Heng asked quietly, his eyes flicking back to Boothill. The cyborg looked at him with a wide-eyed expression and something akin to a frown before shrugging.

“Got me beat, partner—I only just got here.”

“Why are you here?” Dan Heng immediately asked, then winced at the bite in his question. The Galaxy Ranger moved to sit next to him, watching carefully as Dan Heng sat up slowly. He pulled a cooked fish off of where it sat near the fire, and the Vidyadhara accepted the food graciously.

Boothill hummed, staring off into space for a few moments. Then, he began to speak:

“Yer a High Elder, aren’t you? Of the Vidyadhara.”

Dan Heng paused mid-chew, anxiety and panic flooding through systems. He quickly swallowed the torn piece and stammered out, “H-how did you know?”

Boothill looked back to him, and his gaze softened to one of… pity, almost. “We’re both Pathstriders of The Hunt. I’d be foolish to not recognize someone like me.”

Dan Heng looked down to the food in his hands, battling against the flood of memories that tried to breach his defenses. He had fought that battle against Dan Feng back while they were still on the Luofu; he was uninterested in fighting it again. “…I gave up the title of Imbibitor Lunae many centuries ago. At least… I tried to.”

Boothill hummed for a moment. “We’re both Pathstriders of The Hunt… and I heard someone like us crying out in despair.”

“Then we need to help them;” Dan Heng went to stand up, ignoring the throbbing in his entire body, “they could still need out help—“

He was halted by Boothill’s hand on his cheek, stilling his movements. The metal plates were cool against his warming cheeks, but not bitingly cold. The cool of a fan on a hot summer's day. Without realizing it, he’d leaned into it ever so slightly.

“I heard you ,” Boothill murmured. “I heard you begging for someone to save you and I came as fast as I could.”

“—Why?” Dan Heng blurted out after a beat, his mind muddling with every passing second. He couldn’t keep up with everything he was learning today. The thought of the motionless bodies of the other men crept into his mind, and then the lizards and the fight and the fall and the coldness—

Dan Heng was swept into Boothill’s arms suddenly; the blanket around him was left behind and his head rested on the junction between his neck and his head. Only then did Dan Heng realize he was shaking.

“You were amazin’ in that dream, y’know? Both of them. You put up a fantastic show for your friends and everyone else and even had me enraptured in your part of the show. It had me fooled, I’ll admit.

“But it’s over,” Boothill’s voice dropped to a mere comforting murmur. “It’s all okay. You can rest now.”

Dan Heng just sat there, petrified in the confusion of emotions flooding him. The cool grasp around him squeezed just a little tighter, and that was all it took for Dan Heng to bury himself into Boothill further.

Dan Heng did not like the darkness—in fact, Dan Heng hated the darkness, fearful of it even.

“It was too dark,” Dan Heng muttered into Boothill’s neck, his voice rising in hysterics as he continued to speak. “Reminded me too much of back then. It was cold, too cold, and too dark and I couldn’t do anything and—“

“Shh.” Boothill tugged the half-sobbing dragon into him ( if that was even possible, Dan Heng’s mind faintly commented). “You’re okay now. No more darkness or cold.”

“…I saw a shooting star. Near the end. It- it reminded me of when you summoned all those Galaxy Rangers in Penacony.”

“I guess the speed at which I flew over here could be compared to a shooting star,” Boothill commented, making Dan Heng snort a little in reply.

Silence lapsed between the two of them before the dragon breathed: “…I’m tired.”

“Well, your Express friends are on their way. You can get some rest before you go back with them.” The cyborg replaced Dan Heng back in the little sleeping bag he’d put him in; Dan Heng rolled himself into a cocoon immediately, much to the Ranger’s confusion and amusement.

Dan Heng glanced at him one more time, his eyes sparkling (with tears? just from relief?) as he quietly asked:

“Will you stay with me?”

Boothill understood immediately. The unspoken words between two Pathstriders of the same Path. Two hunters with too much in their pasts that always came back to them.

“As long as you want me.”

Dan Heng smiled weakly, humming in response to a hand ruffling his hair, then dozed off—not truly sleeping, but letting his mind shut down. Somewhere down the line, behind blurred and foggy memories, he felt arms pick him up and carry him a long way, never letting go until they’d arrived at the Express. Once he felt the familiar aura of the Express encircle him once more, Dan Heng truly allowed himself to fall asleep.

Dan Heng was not unfamiliar with the darkness. He did not like the darkness and was always afraid of returning to it.

But this time, no matter where he went in his dreams, a shooting star was always following after him.

And that— and he— lit up the darkness.