#i have since been told the eye in the wise symbol should be looking east

[aerequets]

she deserves a cropped blazer jacket I think

[squiddybeifong]

Polka Dot Dress

StephRae Weekend Day 3: Eggplant vs Amethyst

@ravensflockofrobins​

--

Steph let out a sigh as she gazed up at the cracked remains of the moon, its form still as dark as fresh blood. The sides of her vision were tinted with the blues and yellows and reds of the domes around them and she tilted her head as she tried to find the man on the moon but he was split in two, the edges of him fallen away to burnt craters. 

Her lips tilted down as she tried to remember the last time she properly saw him. The attacks happened while she was on patrol and the moon was the one bright spot in Gotham’s sky, overshadowing the bat-symbol that the commissioner flashed. Just how many days had it been since the launch? She’d lost count weeks ago. 

A tiny part of her wanted to ask her only solace in this world, but she didn’t want to pry. Especially not when things were finally calm enough that they could sleep the night uninterrupted. 

Raven stirred next to her, weakly sitting up and wiping the dried blood off her hands. Whether the last of her empathy allowed her to feel Steph’s worries or not, she let her temple rest against the blonde’s shoulder. The demoness took a deep breath, their physical contact enough for her to really feel Steph’s disquiet. She licked her dry lips, feeling a crack on the side of her mouth, “8 months, 3 weeks, 6 days and about 17 hours.” 

Violet eyes flicked to the sky, the corners of her mouth quirking down in a not-quite frown, “18 hours if we’re this close to sunrise.”

Steph let out a sigh at her words. She blindly reached for the mystic’s hand and tugged it to her face, kissing the pale knuckles. Raven softly hummed, closing her eyes as they sunk into silence. After a beat she spoke up, “Stephanie…”

The blonde kissed the cracked jewel in the Azarathian’s head, murmuring against her love’s skin, “You’re the only one who calls me that.”

Raven opened her eyes, “I’m the only one around.”

“Well, yeah,” A humorless laugh escaped and Steph sat up a bit straighter. Her fingers tightened between Raven’s, “But even before all this mess. Most called me Steph.”

“Most?”

“Alfred used to…” Her words trailed off into nothingness as the pain of her loss reared its head again. The mage bit the inside of her cheek and tugged on her lover’s shirt, bringing Steph down into her arms as they lazed on the grass. They sat in silence for a while under the dying pine’s branches, the moonlight flickering past the needles and lighting up their faces as the two took comfort in each other’s presence. 

Steph shifted, tucking her face into Raven’s neck as the ex-Titan broke the quiet, “I miss them.”

Her voice was raspier than usual. Sapphire eyes closed as the mage kept talking, “I’m glad you’re still here with me but I just--” Her face stayed stoic even as she squeezed her violet eyes shut, “I miss everyone so much.”

“8 months, 3 weeks, 6 days and 18 hours and you’re still not used to feeling this much, huh?” Steph went quiet after her own joke, her humorless chuckles fading in the air. Raven’s fingers brushed her knuckles and their hands slid together. The blonde fondly gazed to the east, where Gotham used to be. She knew that Raven was back to staring where the Titans set up their camp and murmured into the air, “Think they’d ever let us come back?”

Raven shifted, uncomfortable at the prospect, “Do you even want to?”

The back of Steph’s head pressed against the tree, “I’m not sure anymore.”

--

Raven was silent as she looked to the west, where the Titans patrolled. The blue dome was ominous as it contained the entirety of the western coast and the demoness desperately wondered how everyone was doing. Were the Titans getting along in their research on this situation, how the birds who roosted in her room’s window were doing, how her kids were fairing without her there. They loved Victor almost as much as they loved her, but her arms ached at not being able to carry them to bed after training. 

Her fingers curled into a fist at the thought of the Toddler Titans and she hastily urged her mind to more mystical ideas, like whether or not Zatanna in San Francisco when the attack happened and if Zachary had even been able to make contact with her. She thought about the rest of the Justice League and its allies, wondered if they were anywhere close to finding some breakthrough in who did this to their planet and how to reverse the shields that separated them.

Sighing, Raven tried to steady her breathing as she glanced at the sky. Steph hadn’t been gone more than half an hour but she still fretted. Even though she had no idea where their clearing was direction-wise, the Titan could pinpoint exactly where Jump CIty lay within that dome. She knew the Bats who had once called Steph family were directly opposite, but she couldn’t bear to look their way.

Not quite a Titan, not quite a Bat; abandoned, left for dead, their inclusion labeled a weakness despite whatever benefits they could have brought to their families’ attempts at survival; sure, the shields would’ve collapsed had they been let in, but with this unknown keeping everyone on edge the civilians couldn’t afford that kind of risk. Now they were just two peas in a pod, weren’t they?

Her fingers curled in and out of a fist. She felt blood slipping down her palm and Raven sadly stared down at the discoloration where hairline cuts hadn’t healed properly and mud had dried and flaked off her skin more times than she could count. She thought of Steph and the scrapes she would inevitably come back with and let her hand glow blue. 

Another prong of sadness; they’d lost so much, and yet the Titans refused to let her stay, refused to use what was left of her healing abilities if it meant she would be one of them. 

The demoness’ nose scrunched up and she shook her head. That was being too harsh. Sure, she certainly wouldn’t have hesitated at the cost of letting someone back in, especially when their powers were diminishing as steadily as hers were, but that didn’t mean their reasoning wasn’t sound. 

To them she was family and a valuable, integral member of the team, but what was her safety compared to the safety of the entire west coast?

Especially as her control on her father’s influence weakened, at least the shield would save most of the world from the immediate effects. Violet eyes shut at the thought and Raven pulled her knees up to her chest. With Steph by her side she could stave off her demons for a little while longer, but what would happen when they finally caught up to her? 

Her sixteenth birthday felt like ages ago, but that support system had been whittled down to just one. If Trigon returned, if he commanded her to destroy the already destroyed planet she called her home, what then?

Would Steph survive?

Raven bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. When a buried part of her tittered at the taste her eyes snapped open and she spat it out. Pulling some of the grass underneath her legs she chewed on a strand, keeping her mind and her every-increasing urges calm. 

That seemed to be getting harder and harder to do when she was alone. Raven swallowed the blade, let her shoulders slump and started munching on another one. She’d ruled out Trigon as the cause of this attack ages ago, but perhaps she could--

No. 

The voice in her head was her own, but it mimicked the all-too familiar tone of boundless confidence and righteous fury. The empath slowly closed her eyes at the thought of her favorite alien, her lips still warm and her ribs still healing from their last hug and their only kiss what seemed like decades ago. 

Violet eyes opened again. Kory had told her that they’d reunite one day and there was nothing Raven wanted more than to have Steph by her side when she did so. A derisive snort erupted out of her; to even consider dealing with her father was ludicrous. Kory wouldn’t approve, the other Titans wouldn’t, her kids wouldn’t and she was sure as hell her Bat wouldn’t either. 

Raven reclined back until her head rested against the scratchy bark of the tree. She hoped Steph would get back soon.

Because all she could think about was the one question that refused to leave her mind: if she sacrificed herself, would it even matter? The Bat needed her Titan as much as the Titan needed her Bat. 

An awful knot twisted in Raven’s stomach at the thought of leaving Steph alone; or worse, of Gotham taking her back after all this. She ran her hands over her short hair, her mind aimlessly wandering from one thought to the next as she considered whether or not she should just shave the choppiness off already. Anything to keep her mind off what her life used to be and bring her back to the few bits of happiness that she clung to.

Azar, what a fucking mess. 

--

Balancing to keep the textbooks and notecards from falling, Nightwing casually reclined on her bed. He pouted a bit as Raven held up a hand and gave him a look, “No.”

He let out a lazy laugh, hissing as it pulled at his bulletwound. Raven leaned over him, her hands glowing as he chuckled out, “I literally haven’t said a word.” She flicked another, deeper deadpan look his way and he tapped at her temple, “And emotions don’t count!”

The empath let out a snort at that and shoved the sleeve of her hoodie in his mouth, glad for the minute of silence as she took the bullet out. Focusing on closing him up, Raven drawled out the obvious, “You’re preparing to meddle.”

He shook his head, “I just happen to think y’all’d get along well.”

Raven blinked at him, absolutely refusing to respond to that contraction. Dick grinned and held up a finger, getting right to the thick of it, “You two both love waffles.”

When the goth’s head tilted he made a peace sign, “Aaaaaand you both have purple uniforms.”

A brow raised when he didn’t add anything else. Try as she might, it was hard to not break her stoicism as he held up his palms, their bond letting her know that he’d said what he thought was most important. Had her empathy not been busy holding back any pain from disturbing the bird, Raven could only imagine she’d enjoy whatever high he was on to think that that was enough. 

Her shoulders shook as she held back her amusement, “Really? That’s it?”

The mystic’s favorite acrobat stuck out his tongue at her tone. Dick put the back of his hand to his forehead and let out a mock-gasp, bemoaning to an imaginary audience, “How inconsiderate!”

She had half a mind to flick his wound but Nightwing dramatically slumped onto her bed, lamenting out before she could, “And here I was thinking about taking you to this new waffle-based food truck to meet her. But I guess not…”

Raven sighed. 

Two nights later she was on a rooftop, fiddling with her rings to keep her sane as she waited for the two Bats to show up. The night wasn’t too busy but the food truck across the street was and the empath wondered if she’d have time to meditate a bit. Before she could consider it, she felt the unmistakable pulse of Dick’s aura and turned to get a glimpse of him through the smoggy Gotham air, spotting an eggplant-colored cloak swinging by his side.  

He was excited as he waved at her and she clung to Spoiler’s somewhat calmer aura as they landed next to her perch. 

Nightwing’s smile was somehow wider than his arms as he spread to motion to his favorite half-demon, “And here she is!”

The teenagers dropped their hoods, their brows jumping as they got a good look at each other. Steph looked a bit starstruck at the sight of her and then very mortified as Dick wrapped an arm around her, loudly (read: obnoxiously, as only an older sibling could) smooched her temple, and introduced, “Spoiler, this is Raven. Raven, this is Spoiler.”

Raven didn’t feel the need to keep up her stoicism as she softly smiled at the blonde. That smile became the closest thing to a smirk as Dick waggled his fingers to get her to come closer and she rolled her eyes, “We can ignore him, if you’d like.”

Taking a relieved step forward, the fighter tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Thank god for that.” A lazy chuckle slipped out of her as she held out her hand, “Spoiler.”

Raven shook her glove and smiled wider at the emotions that bled through, not sure how much credit she’d give Dick when they did end up being friends. “Raven. I heard you wanted to try out this place too?”

“It’s a great place to make friends,” The acrobat piped up. He put his hands on his hips and rocked on his heels, quickly mumbling out the corner of his mouth, “Ormaybemoreifyoutwo’reintoit!!” 

The mystic flicked him with a zap of magic. Her pointed look was less pointed with the way Steph was watching, her bemusement seeping into the air and mingling with Raven’s own. A gray finger pointed at him, “Meddling.”

Nightwing pointed back, “I mean, you never know what might happen, right?” His brows jumped and Steph jerked a thumb over her shoulder to where the food truck’s crowd was dying down, her smile mischievous as she teased to the Titan, “Wanna ditch him?”

Dick sputtered out a “Hey!” and Raven laughed.

--

They’d found what must have been a lake. Rusted car skeletons and overgrown bushes surrounded the little oasis and the lack of trees could be as much as a detriment as an advantage, but neither of them cared. 

Their hearts were still frantic after the close call with that fire so both stayed quiet, going about their usual routine. Staying in eyesight, Raven went west and Steph went east. If there’s water, find a tree stump and tie off a net. If there’s any barrier of trees, scout them out and build small fire pits near their entrances. If there’s any usable remnants of society, scour through them. 

Once the area was secure, Steph found herself sitting on the lake’s edge. She heard but didn’t react to Raven quietly striding up next to her. Her eyes did snap open at the crinkle of a chip bag and she turned to stare at the demoness. A flabbergasted sound erupted out of her and for the first time in too long Steph threw her head back and laughed. 

The blonde slumped against Raven’s side, not even attempting to smother her incredulous giggles, “Where the hell did you find funyuns in the middle of the apocalypse?”

Raven tilted her chin towards the westernmost side of the clearing where the abandoned shed lay, “There’s a whole swath of them in the shed. The cans on the floor are banged up and some are leaking, but these were the only things on the shelves.” Her nose scrunched up as she munched another and offered the bag to her only friend, “They’re stale but edible.”

Steph hummed as she took one from the family sized bag. She got ten chips in before the insanity of everything got to her. Another laugh slipped out of her and she let her head fall back. The sunset was warm on her face as she murmured, “This is weird. I’m not going crazy, am I?”

Raven licked the onion dust off her fingers, “We both probably are.”

“Well,” Steph lazily rested her hands on Raven’s shoulder, nudging the Titan’s cheek with her nose. Raven turned to her and let their foreheads touch, her breath hitching as Steph spoke, their lips so close that they brushed, “At least I got someone to go crazy with.”

Her hand came up to cup Raven’s jaw, urging her down into a kiss that the mystic eagerly accepted. Letting the funyuns fall to the side, the mystic pulled Steph as close as she could, nearly toppling over as the blonde wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Giggling into their kiss Raven hugged her back, desperate for the barely-there tingle of emotions she could feel emanating off the Bat.

As her fingers tangled in the fighter’s long hair she knew this was wrong just as well as she knew that Steph knew. Admittedly, Raven could ignore the muddy shore they were sinking into but, empathy or not, she knew they were kidding themselves. Sighing, the demoness pulled back an inch, her breath washing over the blonde’s face, “We should stop.”

Steph nodded, surging forward for another kiss. She ran her fingers through the short inky hair and murmured against Raven’s lips, “We probably should.” 

Still, she sighed into the demon’s mouth and pulled her closer, tilting her head back as dark gray lips left hers to trail down to her jawline. Her fingers fluttered up and under the collar of the mage’s flannel, leisurely tracing the frayed bra strap underneath. The Bat hoped that would be the end of things but then Raven was noting from the column of her throat, “Everything’s all fucked up, isn’t it?”

Blue eyes closed. Steph let out a quiet moan as Raven pulled her into her lap, one hand steadying on her thighs and the other running through her hair. Pale fingers caught in the knotted mess of her blonde curls and the worry that she’d been keeping in her heart spilled out, “I don’t know whether or not we’re rebounds.”

Her words were quiet in the air. Raven’s mouth slowed and she started peppering butterfly kisses along Steph’s neck. The demoness let out a heavy sigh then leaned up to peck the blonde’s chin, “I think we are.”

Steph ran her fingers over the short hairs on the empath’s nape. Her sapphire eyes were worried yet incredibly calm, “Do you mind it?”

Raven tilted her head and kissed her again, sweeter than all the others before, “Not for now.”

--

Steph tugged the cloth firmer around her mouth, fighting the urge to rub at her eyes. She refused to look back towards Gotham, unsure if she could keep her face steady at the sight of the shield that kept her out, at the shine of the city that she had been pushed out of. 

A part of her understood their reasoning. But knowing her exclusion made sense was an entirely different matter from watching the rest of the Bats turn from her. Cass and Tim had been the most reluctant, but she knew they couldn’t risk it. 

Her throat was dry and her mind was clear. What was her safety compared to the safety of the entire east coast?

Sapphire eyes squeezed shut and Steph took a calming breath, trying to keep it together. The blood-orange dome over this section of the country was nowhere near as full of magic as the one over Gotham; it dangerously buzzed whenever she got more than a mile near it, but there were no cracks within its magic and the people stuck inside were huddled near the cities.  

Her fingers tugged on her hood to keep it steady over her face. The sunset was less than an hour away and she didn’t know where she’d stay the night; judging by her surroundings she’d gotten at least to Indiana, if not to its border with Illinois. That was good for now, especially if the great lakes were omitted from the attacks like the oceans seemed to be. 

As the sun sunk into the horizon Steph spotted a sign, its arrows leading her towards the abandoned parking lot for Charlestown State Park. The walk wouldn’t be too far and hopefully this park had a ranger’s station. Her knees nearly buckled at the idea of sleeping in an actual building in who knew how long but the Bat shook her head, keeping her wits about her as she forced herself into a jog. 

She’d yet to see any wild animals and most of the people outside the domes had probably already perished, but she couldn’t be too sure. All the tools she had left were a few batarangs and her grappling hook; Spoiler snickered to herself as she rounded the corner, she had more than enough.

There were a few trucks and a lot of minivans in the parking lot and she immediately set about breaking into the only one with a stick-figure family on the windshield. A goldmine awaited her: few water bottles, some long-stale but still edible fruit snacks, half a box of granola bars, a new box of Spongebob band-aids and a full bottle of hydrogen peroxide. 

Before she could capitalize a crack! sounded from the other end of the parking lot and the Bat instinctively dropped to the ground, crouching near the tires as she readied herself to fight. 

The shadows seemed to be darken around her, but that was probably the exhaustion playing tricks on her eyes. A quiet gasp preceded someone roughly calling out her alias, “Spoiler? SPOILER!!!”

Steph stood, two batarangs clenched tightly in her fists. Her fingers twitched as she stared at the cloaked person on the opposite side of the clearing; she knew that cape. Amethyst, so similar yet completely different from the tattered eggplant one she currently donned. 

Then the woman tossed her hood back and all suspicion was gone. 

A horrible, wonderful flood of relief surged in her stomach. The blonde’s lips trembled, “Raven?” 

--

They had skirted in between the two domes that bisected the midwest, taking the long way through Illinois and Wisconsin until there was an unnatural edge. Glancing back from where they’d travelled in the last few months, Raven sighed at the knowledge that the Chequamegon-Nicolet national forest was a solace that they couldn’t linger at long. 

Violet eyes fondly ran over the trees that had hid them and she reached to grab Steph’s hand, motioning to the two trails that would take them due west or due east, “I’m guessing that’s the way to Superior and Lake Michigan is over there.” 

The demoness tugged her Bat closer and pecked her temple, “Which one would you like?”

“Lake Superior’s bigger,” Steph’s voice and her face were hopeful at the idea. She tugged Raven down for a quick peck, knowing that her lover felt her relief at finally having a set plan, “Let’s try that.”

So, destination in mind, the pair set off; as usual, all they encountered were ghost towns and abandoned cars. Any wildlife stayed deathly silent as the two once-heroes made their way through, same as they had since the domes first appeared. However, the padlocked warehouse not a mile from the lake’s shore was an oddity.

Sapphire eyes blinked up at the building. Spoiler drummed her fingers on the tire iron tucked into her belt, “Think we’ll get lucky?”

Raven clicked her tongue and motioned for the blonde to go ahead, “Might as well find out.”

It took a few swings, but the padlock gave way and Steph let out an incredulous snort as she swung the doors open. Dust and cobwebs greeted them, showcasing unsteady aisles of plastic bins, waterproof tarps, some poorly made candles and metal bookshelves that somehow had yet to rust or collapse. 

Not quite a bunker and not quite a lightly-ransacked store, but it was more than enough. 

Steph put her hands on her lips, squinting at the dark corners. She took a few steps forward and got a proper look at the place, “We should split up. Check that no one’s around while there’s still light.”

She turned back to Raven as the demoness shrugged out, “Makes sense. I’ll go left.” She tugged on the end of Spoiler’s cloak, her lips quirking up at the corners. Steph raised a brow and Raven grabbed her hand, squeezing once, “Kiss for luck?”

The Bat tried to give her a deadpan look, but she supposed her smile was preventing it from working. Steph stepped up next to her and quickly pecked the empath’s cheek, “You dork.”

Raven stole a proper kiss, “Your dork.”

Her violet eyes were reassuring as she winked and started towards the left side of the warehouse. She called over her shoulder, “Shout if you need anything!” and smiled at the obnoxiously loud kiss that the blonde blew towards her back. Her attention easily slid to the maze of sealed bins in front of her and Raven eyed them as she stepped past. 

Relief flooded her at all the tools that she could pinpoint during her walkthrough: lanterns whose batteries had probably run out, seeds that may or may not still be plantable, wooden chairs, metal utensils, about ten cast iron pans.

A brow raised at the sight of a mountain of clothes left aside. Humming at the thought of mending their uniforms’ frayed patches, Raven crouched down to get a better look. Mothballs and dust were aplenty, but most were still wearable for at least a few more months. “Not a lot of clothes we can fit in here,” Raven quickly rummaged through the sides of the pile, her nose wrinkling at the sheer amount of denim jackets she was uncovering. 

Her head snapped up at Steph’s cry of “I found cans!” and she slipped, her head tilting as her palm landed on satin. Raven carefully pulled out a child’s sundress from the fray. The demoness softly ran her fingers over the soft material, smiling at the purple polka dots and the lacy bow around the waist. The pattern was nearly identical to Melvin’s favorite pair of pajamas and her heart twisted at the thought.

Raven jumped as Steph let out a snicker behind her, “Having fun?”

Violet eyes were a bit sheepish as she held the dress to her chest. The blonde plopped down next to her and hid a laugh with a kiss to the shoulder of Raven’s amethyst cloak, “We shopping now?”

“Maybe.” The once-Titan’s voice was wistful as she held the dress up again, a quiet sigh leaving her. Steph took a moment to watch her girlfriend, taking in the obvious shifts of emotion on her face. Regret, fondness, sadness, love, guilt, admiration; something undeniably maternal.

Sapphire eyes flicked to gray lips as Raven bit the inside of her cheek. An impossibly small smile formed and the empath turned to her, “You know what they remind me of?” 

The Bat slumped against her side, knowing that physical contact was probably the best course of action. Steph wrapped one hand around her lover’s arm and the other came up to pet the satin, her question floating into the air, “They?”

Raven perked up at the embrace and tapped one of the polka dots, “You remember that show Steven Universe? They look just like Amethyst’s gem.”

Steph let out a lazy chuckle, running a hand through her hair. The scent of the lake still clung to them, permeating through the dust; it reminded her of some of those family vacations Alfred planned and her stomach rumbled. Remembering what she found during her walkthrough, the blonde admitted, “I was thinking eggplant slices myself.”

Raven hummed, “I can see that.”

Taking the conversation where her hunger wanted it to go, Steph ducked her head and kissed the sliver of neck exposed from the rip in the demoness’ collar. The lightness in her voice came as naturally as breathing, especially at the way Raven cooed and inched closer, “Hey, did you know canned eggplant’s a thing, apparently? ‘Cause there’s like a year’s worth stuck under some empty gas containers over there.”

Quickly folding the dress, Raven pressed it to her chest. Feeling nostalgic, she pecked Steph’s forehead, “It’s been a while since we got to sit dinner, huh?”

--

“Steph...” Cass’ face was crumpled up as she got the hero’s attention, her eyes wide and worried as she stared out past the transparent dome. She thought about all that could be done and all that couldn’t, worried over the choice that she had made and agonized over how her best friend would fare.

Not knowing what to do, Cass let out a quiet, “I’m…” 

Steph closed her eyes as she waited, knowing that her far-off hope wasn’t going to come true. Mahogany eyes watched the despondence curl the blonde’s shoulders and the words rushed out, “I’m so sorry.”

She thought of the sheer amount of vulnerable civilians within and hugged her arms around herself. Spoiler crossed her arms, not wanting the dancer to beat herself up over this, “It’s okay.”

“That’s a lie.” 

Cass looked as if she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. The two stared at each other for a minute. When the silence became too much Steph brushed some of her curls back, letting out a humorless laugh, “The others aren’t even gonna say one last goodbye?”

With the way the Bat glanced to the left, she could only suppose at least Tim was nearby. And while it was nice to know that someone else was there it wasn’t good enough, not when she was getting abandoned like this. Frustrated at the situation and the glassiness of her eyes Steph roughly ran a hand through her hair. 

She took a calming breath and grunted out as nonchalantly as she could bear, “It’s getting dark. I gotta go soon. Find shelter, y’know?”

“Right.” Black Bat wrung her hands in front of her chest. Steph watched how the bat symbol rose up as she took a deep breath, “Please…” Cass opened her mouth then shut it. She took another breath, the air shakily rushing out with her pleading, “Don’t die.”

A lopsided smile curled her lips, “I’ll try. Just… just help B fix this shit as soon as possible, alright? It’s gonna be weird not having you around.” 

Steph’s sight flicked to just over the Bat’s shoulder. She put up her hood then smoothed the domino mask over her eyes as she gave her almost-girlfriend a warning, “Civilians coming in on your 7.” 

Black Bat slid her mask back on, the stitches’ frown covering her own. Her fingers hesitated for half a heartbeat then she signed a quick, I’ll miss you.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Steph closed her eyes, “I’ll miss you too. Make sure Tim doesn’t go crazy again, yeah?”

Nodding once, Cass put her hand against the shield. It’s magic hardened around her palm and crackled dangerously when Steph tried to mimic her. Spoiler forced a smile, knowing that it did nothing to keep the brunette from seeing the tears slipping down her cheeks, “I’ll see you soon?” 

Cass’ mask didn’t move. 

Steph quietly sighed and wiped at her cheeks, “Yeah. Figured so.”

--

The sky was an odd mix of sherbert above them and gravel in the distance. Pastel shined down on them as they sat in the warehouse’s wide open doorway and if she strained her ears and ignored the faraway crash of the waves on the shoreline, the demoness could just barely pick up on the approaching thunderstorm. It’d probably hit them within a day, but with the unknown effects of these domes on the environment that knowledge did little to calm her mind.

Instead, she focused on the three things that she desperately needed and seemed to finally have for good: stability, safety, and Steph. Her cheek rested on the blonde’s temple as they sat and her eyes closed, enjoying the last of the sunset’s rays. 

“We could stay here,” Raven quietly observed. Even with only an inkling of her powers she felt the wave of Joy as Steph let out an agreeing laugh, one that carried over the afternoon heat. It seemed that the empath was making her smile more and more the longer this apocalypse went on and both were really enjoying the fact.  

Under her Raven’s shoulders shook with her own titters, but neither could help it. 

As their laughter lessened to giggles, Steph laced her fingers through the mystic’s warm ones. She looked up at the taller woman and rested her chin on the edge of Raven’s shoulder, a small smile on her face. Despite how shitty this end-of-days was, the Bat knew that being this comfortable wasn’t simply a result of their isolation.

Her heart thundered as she spoke the words, but Steph wasn’t nervous as she spoke, “I love you.”

Raven’s brows jumped at the confession, but her face softened. She pulled their joined hands up to her mouth and pressed a kiss to Steph’s knuckles, being careful not to touch the dried blood that had yet to be washed off. 

The mage hadn’t been able to feel so freely before, at least not without a few electronics blowing up, but she absolutely knew what she felt. And what she felt for her Bat was as strong as any emotion she’d ever experienced before, “I love you too.”

Steph grinned and raised up until their noses touched. She was a bit breathless and very restless as she eagerly kissed the love of her life, “Yeah?”

She wrapped her arms around the mystic’s neck and all but bounced into her lap. Teetering, Raven cupped her cheeks and kissed her again, giddy as their foreheads rested together, “Yeah.” 

As they fell back onto the blanket, fully appreciating how a familiar dance had become so brand-new now that they knew, the sunset’s heat got weaker and weaker on the warehouse’s thin roof. Neither woman noticed; they’d grown accustomed to how quickly night fell with the shields blocking the light and tonight would be no different --not when they had far more pressing matters to experience together.

Later, the moon was the main attraction in the sky as the heroes lounged out on the blanket again. Giggling, naked and exhausted, they didn’t bother getting up from their spot in the doorway to watch as the stars fought to shine past the magical light pollution. 

One minute of silent, contented cuddling turned to two. Then ten, then half an hour had passed before the words bubbled up in the empath’s chest. 

"You've been quiet," Raven murmured. 

Steph closed her eyes even tighter and snuggled even closer. She wondered how much of her emotions her mage could feel but pushed the thought away. The blonde pecked just above where a mosquito had bitten the side of Raven’s neck, "Just thinking."

There was another few seconds of quiet and Steph knew that her body language must have given her away, empathy or not. Raven's sad little smile came out in her voice, "About love? Or Gotham?" 

Steph's lips trembled and her empath shifted to lay on her back, being careful as she moved so that their skin didn’t stop touching. Gray fingers ran through her messy curls, sliding easier than normal with how damp everything still was. Raven breathed in once, twice, "It's fine to think about family often. Azar knows I do too."

“I had a daughter, once." Steph didn't know what made her blurt that out. Before she could quickly --instinctively-- play it off as a joke Raven moved, but only to scratch at her scalp again, running her fingers through the length of her curls. At the silent gesture blue eyes closed and an unsteady sigh escaped. Her fingers drummed just under the curve of her demoness’ ribs, nervous. 

Years of worries threatened to bubble out; used to the feeling, the Bat pushed them down just enough to think them over before she spoke, "She'd be five, six now?” She hid her face and ran the pads of her fingers over the mage’s buzzcut. “I wonder if she’s still out there.”

Raven’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Steph heard her run her tongue over her teeth before she suggested, “We have that dress.”

“The one with the polka dots?”

“Yeah. The amethyst ones.”

Steph snorted, a tiny smile on her lips as she buried her face deeper in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck, “They’re eggplant, but continue.”

“Mmhmm, well,” Raven brushed aside her bangs and kissed her forehead, mindlessly wondering for not the first time how Steph survived with such long hair. “I’m sure she’d love it.”

“Bruce said she’d ‘never want for anything’ right before I gave her up. I don’t know if they’d be in Gotham, but not all of the cities were covered. If someone near an edgepoint took her in, then maybe--” 

Steph couldn’t finish her thought. Raven kissed her temple again, her eyes opening as she did so. Even without the sunlight, the dark clouds were obviously rolling in quicker than she first supposed. She let out a hum and murmured, “There’s looking to be a storm.”

She turned to half-spoon, half-pull the blonde on top of her. Raven kissed just under her earlobe, her fingertips following the tingle of goosebumps as they shivered down the Bat’s spine. The mystic smiled, “The lake might flood. If we start packing up now we could leave in the morning, try to track her down.”

Steph clicked her tongue. She raised up and kissed the demoness’ chin. Her hand cupped her face and as she ran her thumb over her cheeks Raven saw how the fighter was holding back her hope, “I don’t even know her name.”

The mage moved her fingers from the goosebumps to the curve of her lover’s lips. Reassurance filled her voice and brightened her smile as she reminded, “I didn’t know yours but I found you.”

She turned her head and kissed Steph’s palm. The blonde ducked her head, jumping to another train of thought before she could get charmed into having expectations. “You don’t seem the mom type.”

Violet eyes slowly blinked, “I’ve had some practice.” The thought of the Toddler Titans sent a bolt of ache through her chest, but Raven knew they were safe with her once-family. She tried to ignore her pain and focus on Steph, “Plus, I’d have you.”

Smiling down at her girlfriend, the Bat considered her idea. They’d need to think of a full plan later but the fact that there could be a plan was making her heart swell. Certainly she didn’t have any expectations just yet, but simply being able to talk about this, about her…

A happy, relieved, tiny sound bubbled out of the blonde, not quite a giggle but close enough. Steph half-crawled a few inches up to kiss her love, repeating the only constant she knew from these last few months, “And I’d have you.”

The air was damp and electric with the obvious warning of rain. It clung to their skin, tingled their injuries and energized the space between them. Their track record was encouraging; how likely was it that a depowered half-demon in California and a crime-fighter in New Jersey could find each other? Surely just as likely as them tracking down one little girl. 

And in that promising energy Raven could make one of the easiest guesses of her life. 

From the dyes in their cloaks to the polka dots on that dress, there was only one idea in her mind for what their daughter was probably called, knowing their luck. Raven loudly smooched her love’s cheek to keep her shit-eating grin from being too obvious, “I bet her name’s Violet.”

Steph let out a snort, palming the side of her face as she tried to keep her laughter at bay. She leaned back and pressed a kiss right above the demon’s heart, “Since when do you make jokes?”

[daemour]

Of Royalty and Family - Prologue

Jiah steps out of the carriage gracefully, skirt flowing behind her. Behind her, Johnny and Mark take off their helmets and hold them under their arms as is custom when in the presence of royalty. A young beta male is walking down the steps with grace. "Your majesty, please follow me to the throne room. King Namjoon and Queen Seokjin are waiting for your arrival. Some servants–" he gestures towards some attendants "–will take your belongings to your room." Jiah nods.

"Thank you. I do hope the King and Queen haven't been waiting too long." She follows the servant quietly. Johnny come along as Mark stays behind to help the servants.

As the two approach the ornate doors leading to the throne room, Jimin pulls open the doors, and announces, "Queen Lee Jiah of Miraneo is here, Your Highness." She steps in, and the first thing she notices is the King and Queen side by side. The changes in this kingdom have been different indeed. Before, since the queen was an omega, he would have been required to sit below the king. King Namjoon had changed the kingdom that many of the laws regarding omegas were null.

"Your Majesty." She bows slightly. Usually, one would curtsey, but as Jiah had been queen for longer than Namjoon had been king, she held a higher title than he. That didn't mean she shouldn't show respect, however.

"Please rise." Namjoon's deep timbre broke the silence, allowing Jiah to rise to her full stature. "We gratefully welcome you to our kingdom, and we hope you enjoy your stay."

She smiles and nods. "Yes, my brother and the kingdom are eternally thankful to you for allowing me to live here. We congratulate you and your queen on the wedding." As per custom, she has a present for the occasion. Johnny presents the gift, a stunning silk scarf embroidered with orange blossoms, symbolizing eternal love and marriage.

"We thank you." The response is dull, but you can see in their eyes that they're pleased. "Now, I'm sure your journey has been very tiring. Jimin will show you to your room. Your guards and servants will stay in the attendant wing closest to you." The servant from before, now known as Jimin, takes Jiah out of the elegant room.

As they go up some winding stairs, Jimin says, "I will be attending to you with your servants. If you require anything, please let me know." Jiah nods and continues her way.

The quarters are in the east wing, and they're quite large. Jiah's possessions have been brought up and set up. She hopes it wasn't Mark who had to unpack her undergarments. He would tease Jiah incessantly if he did. She dismisses Jimin, and Johnny tries to avoid giggling at her suddenly relaxed face. "Why is smiling all the time so damn hard?" Jiah runs a hand through her hair, taking off your crown.

"I don't know, Your Grace." Jiah knows Johnny is using her title to annoy her.

"Johnny, you can just call me Jiah when we're not in the presence of others," She says in fake annoyance. She's about to speak when there's a knock at the door. Jiah jams her crown onto her head as Johnny hurriedly goes to open the door.

"Hello! I'm Jung Hoseok, Captain of the Guard. I'm here to show your guard to where he'll be staying. You're free to walk around if you'd like. The garden is magnificent this time of the year, so if you'd like, I could show you the way." The tall man speaks with spirit, and Jiah can tell he's very cheerful.

She agrees and asks him to show Johnny his room first, as she changes into something more suitable. However, Jiah is still required to wear her jewels. Thankfully, they aren't too heavy, unlike the crown jewels back home. As she sets out behind the large captain of the guard, Jiah feels a presence behind her. However, she pays no mind. It's probably just a servant who wanted to see the queen of Miraneo.

Miraneo and Bangtan had always had an alliance. However, the previous king's ruler kept most personal visits extremely rare. Taeyong usually visited as he was an alpha, and Jiah was an omega. The king before Namjoon saw omegas as objects, and if she had gone to the kingdom, she would have been in terrible danger. Taeyong was a safer choice to send, and even he would have been at risk. Jiah had never set foot in Bangtan before now, and she had hoped with all her life that it wouldn't be the last. "We're here, your highness." Jiah looks up, snapped out of her thoughts. A beautiful scene of rose bushes, flowers, and an elegant fountain stood before her.

"You're dismissed if you'd like." Jiah smiles gently at Hoseok, and he beams and runs off. As she walks through the grass, she hears a loud sneeze.

"Ah, excuse me." It seemed the young man was talking to himself, and Jiah silently chuckles before answering.

"That's quite all right." The man's head snaps to look at her indecorously before laughing.

"Oh, I didn't even see you there, sorry." He breaks out into a boxy grin. "I'm Lord Kim Taehyung of the Tan province. I advise the king along with his brother."

"I'm Queen Lee Jiah of Miraneo." Jiah smiles back, bowing her head slightly.

Taehyung's jaw dropped. "Oh. Oh! Deepest apologies, I didn't recognize you." He dips into a bow, and she laughs.

"That's quite all right. I only just arrived today." Taehyung nods with a look of knowing.

"I had heard about that. I guess it just didn't click yet." Taehyung reaches up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You have a crown on, too."

"Ah, this is easy to miss." Jiah gestures towards her crown.

"That would be a little more embarrassing," Taehyung agrees.

The two chat for a little more, and as the sun slowly comes down, a young man with smiley eyes approaches them. "Queen Jiah, Their Majesties have invited you to dinner with them and their council," he says confidently. "Dinner will be served at six."

"Of course. May I have your name?"

"I'm Huening Kai, your grace." Jiah dismisses him.

"All right, well, I should be off now. Will I see you at the dinner, Lord Taehyung?"

"Probably, if my other duties don't call to me first," Taehyung says, winking.

Jiah giggles a little, slightly flustered. "Well, only time will tell." Jiah heads off back towards her room to change. Being a queen required her to wear appropriate outfits at all times, so she often changed at least three or four times a day. Jiah slips into an evening gown that isn't too over the top or underdressed. She doesn't worry about accessories because the required crown and necklace will be enough. A knock on the door causes her to startle, and she opens the door.

"Good evening, your majesty. I was sent here to help you get dressed, but it seems you've got that down." Jiah laughs a little at Jimin's forwardness. "Please follow me to the dining hall."

As they walk down, Jiah asks, "Do you know who will be at the dinner?"

Jimin glances at her, then replies. "The King and Queen will be there, as they are the host. Lord Kim Taehyung and Prince Min Yoongi are attending, and so is Lord Kwan Beomjin."

"Lord Kwan Beomjin?"

"He was the previous ruler's brother in law." Jiah nods in understanding. "We're here."

As Jimin announces her, Jiah steps into the hall. She sits to the right of the royal couple, as she is a Queen as well. Across from her is who she presumes to be the Prince, and to his right is Beomjin. Jiah's seated next to Taehyung. "We thank you all for coming," the Queen and King say, smiling. "May we have a bountiful meal." As soon as the two sit down, everyone is permitted to eat.

As the servants place the appetizers in front of everyone, Beomjin speaks up. "So, when will you ever introduce me to this charming omega in front of me?" Jiah bristles, but keeps composed. She can feel Taehyung tense up, and the King and Queen hide their shock well.

"I'm Queen Lee Jiah of Miraneo. Who are you, if I may ask?" She offers Beomjin a cold smile and a slight tilt of the head. He looks surprised, but it vanishes quickly.

"I'm Lord Kwan Beomjin!" He smiles proudly. "You must have heard of me! I was Lord Kyungsoo's brother in law. I've met your brother when he visited once or twice."

Taeyong had indeed met Lord Beomjin and told Jiah about him. He's certainly living up the stories her older brother told her. Pompous, loud, and self-assured is true. Taeyong will be happy to know he is right. Jiah realizes Beomjin is awaiting a reply. "Yes, my brother has spoken of you." She spares him the details. "A pleasure to meet you." Not really.

The King and Queen quickly attempt to relieve the tension. "So, Queen Jiah, how is your family? Last time I saw your brother, he was twenty-one and newly presented."

"My family is on vacation, so it's just me and my brother ruling right now. Taeil is set to return in a week so that Taeyong will not have to be alone for too long."

"Taeil is your advisor, correct?" Beomjin asks, and Jiah nods. "Isn't he your cousin?"

"Stepbrother." Jiah corrects quietly. "He was my father's first wife's child."

"Ah, yes. That's why your brother shared his crown with you, correct? And Moon Taeil–" he says the name with disgust "–didn't get it?"

"I'm sure you are aware of royal hierarchy, considering you were the former King of Bangtan's brother in law. As Moon Taeil was not born a royal, he is not in line for the crown until much later." You wisely don't comment on his comment about how you and your brother's shared crown was technically Taeyong's. It wasn't.

Seokjin and Namjoon change the subject subtly to avoid confrontation during the heated conversation. "Ah speaking of Taeil, how is the rest of your family?"

Jiah nods and smiles, silently thanking them for the topic shift. "My cousin Chittaphon has recently been promoted to Captain of the Guard. My other cousins Yukhei and Kun have also recently joined the Royal Guard."

After Jiah talks about the rest of her family, the dinner ends in silence. As she excuses herself and heads out, Seokjin asks Jiah to accompany him on a walk through the gardens. "I would like to apologize for Beomjin's behavior from earlier." He speaks a little after the two enter the rose maze. "He has always followed in his brother's footsteps, so he doesn't understand how to act."

Jiah sighs, running a hand through her brown hair. "I was a little on edge as well. I apologize." Seokjin shakes his head with a smile.

"No, no, I understand. You were defending your family. Neither Namjoon nor I hold you against it." Seokjin giggles, looking straight ahead. "When I first met Namjoon, I told him he looked like an overgrown koala."

"I'm sorry, what?" Jiah's mouth drops open in shock.

Seokjin laughs, a sound similar to wiping glass. "Thankfully, Namjoon really was an overgrown koala and was too shy to snitch on me." He pauses, glancing at Jiah. "Don't worry too much. As long as you don't call Beomjin an overgrown koala, you should be fine. I think your visit will be quite bearrific." He cackles at his pun.

"That is not very comforting, but thank you." Jiah giggles and grins at Seokjin. "You're....beary kind, Queen Seokjin." Seokjin cracks up at her attempted pun.

"Nice try, but leave the puns to me. Yours are not very bearable." And the two queens start giggling like maniacs.

"Is everything all right?" An alpha male peeks out from one of the hedges. He's quite young, with doe eyes and a worried face. Jiah stares at him keenly. He looks familiar, but Jiah shakes it off before he could notice her staring.

"Yes, thank you, Jungkook. We were laughing about some puns." Seokjin waves him off. Jungguk bows and turns to leave. "Oh wait, I don't think you've met Queen Jiah yet."

Jiah offers a nod, and Jungkook bows deeply. "I have not, yet I've heard a lot about her. It is an honor," he says, voice quiet.

"All good things, I hope." Jiah jokes lightly and allows a smile. Jungkook loosens up a little and beams back. His teeth are similar to bunny teeth, giving him a cute smile. His eyes crinkle as well, like her father's. Jiah shakes her head slightly to get these thoughts out.

"Yes, of course." Jungkook smiles. "Captain Hoseok and Jimin enjoy your company. Johnny and Mark have also told me a lot about you." His innocent smile morphs into a sly grin, and Jiah pales. "For example the time with the rain da–"

Jiah leaps forward and covers his mouth with her hand. "Ah, yes, thank you," she seethes, and Seokjin snorts. Jungguk grins–she can tell because his eyes and nose crinkle–and licks her hand. "What the f–"

"Do I want to know what happened here?" A voice cuts her curse off and before her stands Prince Yoongi in all his short glory. She looks over in embarrassment, but he wears a smile on his face. "Probably not. Let me guess. Jungguk annoyed you somehow, and as a result, you covered his mouth. Then he attempted to lick you, or he succeeded. Am I right?"

Jiah discreetly wipes her hand onto Jungguk, who makes a sound of protest. "Has this happened to you before? Your prediction was very accurate."

Yoongi scoffs. "I don't have enough fingers to count the amount of times he did so. How did he find out your deepest darkest secrets?" He asks alongside finger quotes.

"He asked my guards about it. Speaking of which, remind me to have a chat with Mark and Johnny." Jiah addresses the last sentence at Jungguk. He snorts but quiets when she directs her scowl at him.

"Your majesty, please let me go. You're scary." Jungguk pleads with a pout.

"If you thought I was scary, you shouldn't have teased me," Jiah counters. She lets Jungguk go nevertheless. He giggles again, and Jiah lunges for him, but he dodges out of the way.

"All right, all right. Stop fighting. Yeonjun isn't going to like it if you mess up his maze," Seokjin says, but his smile shows he's not serious.

Jiah sighs, but smiles. "Yes, the roses are very delicate. However, I must excuse myself." Seokjin and Yoongi nods, and Jungguk bows again.

As she leaves the maze, Jungguk runs to catch up with her. "Your Majesty, have you seen Jimin?" Jiah shakes her head.

"Sorry, but I have not. Why?" He shrugs, but Jiah sees the longing in his eyes. "Ah, you two are courting?"

Jungguk stammers, but at Jiah's look, he sighs. "Somewhat. I'm going to ask him."

Jiah smiles. "Well, good luck. I do not know him very well, but I'm sure he is suited for you. Maybe he'll help you learn not to blackmail me."

"Oh, he helped me." At Jiah's outraged face, Jungguk snorts. "How else would I find your guards?"

Jiah sighs. "Well, I guess I should expect you and Jimin to uncover my secrets."

Jungguk nods empathetically. "Watch out. We're coming for you," he says while looking around. "We're here."

Jiah looks up, and her room is indeed in front of her. "Ah, yes. Thank you for walking me back. Now go find Jimin and achieve your dreams." Jungguk giggles and runs off, waving.

Jiah sighs and smiles at him when– "What are you smiling at?" Jiah jerks back to see Mark grinning at her.

"Wishing a good friend luck. Now." Jiah frowns slightly, crosses her arms, and stands straight. "Mark, would you like to explain to me why you and Johnny were spilling all of my secrets to Jungguk?"

Mark gaped and squawked. "How'd you find out? Did Jungguk tell? He promised he wouldn't!" Jiah raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't answer my question, Lee Minhyuk."

"She used your full name! You're in trouble!" Johnny crows from behind Jiah.

"Johnny Seo, I would shut your trap before I shut it for you," Jiah says playfully.

Johnny snickers but doesn't say anything. Jiah sighs at Mark, who is still grinning. "I'm going to bed. If you spill any more of my secrets, there will be hell to pay."

Mark nods, and Johnny grabs him by the arm and drags him down the hall to their quarters. Jiah sighs, but smiles. Those two are the crackheads they've always been, but they're sweet and always willing to lend a hand. Jiah chuckles and heads into her room, as someone watches from the shadows.

----

I actually don't like writing A/B/O but it works best for this story plot. Please let me know if I make a mistake. thanks.

[writerspink]

K-12 Words

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6.1

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6.2

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

7.2

evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

8.1

apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

8.2

exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

9.1

stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

9.2

feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

10.1

install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

[vardasvapors]

Wait, that wasn't a short phrase or word! Sorry! "That's LIKE a dog, though..."

Andreth expected to find Finrod sitting on the bench in the clearing around the old well, with his hands clasped over his knees, or failing that, trying to see down the well, but certainly not lying on the grass playing with a—

“My lord?”

“Andreth! It has been too long. How is your family? What news have you? Do you have any matters of import to discuss?”

“Is that a wolf pup?”

The wolf pup in question wriggled its plump furry body in excitement and chewed on Finrod’s ear with gusto. He absently put a hand over its muzzle and rolled onto his stomach in a tangle of blond hair.

“Apologies for my state. Of clothing, and other…states. Yes! ‘Tis a wolf pup. I killed the mother so I took her with me and intend to raise her as a dog.”

“A dog.”

“Yes!”

“A dog. Which is not a wolf. Yet that is.”

“Too true, and to that I shall say: that’s like a dog, though…” He trailed off significantly, as if expecting, or insisting, that his sentence would be, or ought to be, finished by another, and looked at Andreth from the corner of his eyes.

Andreth pursed her lips, walked to the well, took a drink from the dipper, and then sat heavily down on its edge. “Very well. I had thought that you might have a concern or a theory of the states of the creatures of Arda that you wished to propose to me, but it seems I am mistaken. Allow me to ask of your wisdom a question then: how is a wolf like a dog?”

Finrod broke into a brilliant toothy grin before schooling his features and kneeling up with a look of great intrigue and earnestness. “Why Andreth, do you not know how dogs came to be?”

“I know of dogs quite well. I live in a house with many.”

“On the Great Journey, my grandfathers and grandmothers were beset by creatures of Morgoth, including wolves, many times, but slew them. Many orphaned pups followed them toward the sea, and at the end some were taken to Aman by the kindest and most stubborn of elves, for the pups were small and helpless, and did not greatly resemble their cruel sires. And lo! When they grew to adulthood, they were gentle and beautiful, and their children still more so, and lived long and were our friends.”

“Indeed?”

“It is true as far as I know it.”

“Why, I believe I see your intent.” Andreth leaned forward, elbow on one knee, to bring her face close to Finrod’s. “The Enemy has now marred much that was once fair, yet these dogs were born of marred creatures and were made fair in your Valinor. One might guess it was done by Valinor, yet—”

“Yes?”

“Yet we have dogs here in these lands as well, even in the east. So it is not Valinor that is needed to raise creatures that are whole from ones that are marred.”

“Yes!” Finrod sat cross-legged and drew the wolf pup into his lap. He looked at Andreth expectantly.

Andreth sighed.

“It is as elves and orcs are, you mean, my lord. Though it seems, in reverse as well.”

“Indeed I do, are orcs not all marring? Not only elves who are marred, but they are the marring in itself, and the elf is set aside.”

“So you propose by this, that some marrings may be undone, perhaps, and so the course of the world and all its life and creatures may yet slope upwards if the tides and practices of its peoples align all aright.”

“In theory, perhaps, but perhaps yet the opposite. I doubt this upwards slope for I feel I am in error, but do not yet see by what means I erred. Though the planes of our imaginings in this sphere of thought are fraught. Our words cleave to our memories and trace the shapes of those cross-sections that occur when another thing intersects us, and not the thing itself. These shapes and these words, which are in the mind, and which are twined and have always been twined since our awakening with a world marred, and so what is may not be what is true, nor what it was meant to be, nor what it should be. Wolves we say are marring, marred, and a marring, all at once, and yet what were wolves in the beginning, and what were they meant to be? We have never seen their true forms. Dogs? But dogs are only what results when the wolves become the beasts of Man and Elf and share their lives, and so true wolves surely cannot be dogs — dogs are not a creature with essence independent, and solely of themselves. Yet are dogs closer to what was the truth of wolves in the beginning? Or farther, and yet fairer nonetheless?”

He paused for breath. Then paused for more.

“I see you have started without me and skipped forward to the exciting part.”

“No I did not, these words grew even as I spoke, forgive me. Andreth, what are dogs to your people, and what are your people to dogs — dogs as they are now, as you know them in your house?”

“What they are now? Friends and hunters, whose bark means danger and yet is more trusted and more of a comfort than any sound, for it means that though danger is all around and for all time, we are not alone with it in the dark. And I presume that we, to them, are whom they beckon when danger comes, though they know not what we might do against it. The danger may be wolves or not, yet they bark to summon or warn us, wolf or no, for they know that the danger is the marring, and not the wolf.”

“Memories of what things were in the beginning are not your domain, but to seek what lies behind a thing is? Saelind! Your words are the essence of your people.”

“I have heard that flattery will lead one round and round on paths one never wished to take and constrain one to pile one’s tongue with words of fools, my lord, so as to appear at least consistent.” Andreth handed him the dipper and crossed her legs. She frowned down at the wolf pup, docile and content with all its adult form’s sharp lean edges blunted.

“If you told all this to your wolf pup, would she grow wise? Or if you told it to the dogs, would they care why they bark? A grown wolf then, or an orc? Shall they listen?”

Finrod sighed. “No I suppose not. It was a study of thoughts and words, and the word “if” most of all.” He settled on his back on the sunlit grass, arms behind his head and eyes closed. “Yet how came dogs to be what they are to Men, Andreth? By what tales do your people know what they know of them?”

Andreth raised an eyebrow at the elf and the wolf pup curled at her feet, and grinned unseen.

“Our tales say we bestowed upon them names, of course. Of our own choosing, of words that fit their attributes as we saw them.”

“Indeed! Names are the first among all spoken words, most of all for those dear and well-known.”

Andreth shook her head. She would wait.

“We learned from watching and working with them much wisdom, of things we knew not about the world, and their abilities beyond our ken saved our lives times innumerable.”

“The wisdom of wild creatures, yes. It is likewise with elves and our horses.”

He still did not notice. Andreth slid down to kneel next to him, and spoke a little more loudly, and slowly.

“And some of the prideful among us believe that perhaps through us, they could turn their purpose to something other than their own survival, and become creatures unbound to the whims of the world around them, through our deliverance, lord.”

“A symbiotic relationship in your early days, by which you lifted yourselves out of the darkness, certainly!”

Andreth grinned wider and sat back on her heels. “And in the earliest meetings, they were the only creature who approached our fire, and were not repelled by it as other creatures were, and so by this we knew them as a friend!”

“A most understandable meeting, commonalities and symbols of meaning between diff—”

Finrod’s eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright. “Hold, wait just a minute you—!”

But Andreth had already swept out of the clearing with the wolf pup at her heels, leaving laughter scattering in her wake.

[home-is-where-the-tardis-takes-u]

Sherrinford as the Subconscious, Eurus as the It and Sexuality; or: John is not the only one who has repressed his sexuality Sherlock did it, too but for Holmes reasons. Quite literally, for science (and thinking).

I’ve just finished rewatching (no idea how many times I did. I’ve lost count) The Final Problem.

While I still most definitely adhere to the EMP theory (I mean, come ON!), I’d like to add my two cents about it all. 

It’s not orderly because they’re just my thoughts as I was watching the episode.  But I imagine anyone who’ll read them is suffiently acquainted with the episode to know to which moments correspond this or that particular thought.

'the man you are today is your memory of Eurus'... Memory... Something to do with the brain, then. SUBCONSCIOUS

'after that he was different (...) they took her away'... Heteronormative stuck up society made Sherlock get rid of 'Eurus'

East Wind. EAST. Exotic. What is 'exotic'? Anything that does not adhere to societal norms. Stuffed his homosexuality down in a prison 'since early childhood'.

'shot John during a session' Interesting. VERY interesting.

Could be a metaphorical bloodstain at John’s therapist’s office. That of John's heterosexuality.

'Six. Six. Six. The number of the beast' ... Homosexuality is still considered sinful...

The flat exploding.... Both Sherlock and John coming out as partners to Mycroft who did NOT realise they were. John's previous Not Gay stance literally thrown out the window.

Sherlock and John storming a pirate boat... Well, to be together some homosexuals had to use devious methods. Schemes. Pretend (hello again, Oscar.)

'headed for the rocks' the captain says....there's danger if we're caught.

'this man stole my boat'... // 'whatever shakes your boat' (ASiP)

'I don't even know who he is' ; John looks, surprised, at Mycroft. He REALLY was not expecting John to play in that team.

And pirates were all cool with crewmates being couples, captains often married them.

John is not... At ease. His hands are... Moving. Fingers twitching (in the scene after Mycroft’s reveal of his fisherman disguise)

'did you bring my hairband' Hairband, accessory to change one's appearance.

And we all know that John's hand twitches (reaching for his gun) when he's upset/emotional.

(or to keep things 'in check'? Use a hairband to put around your attraction?)

'I never know if it's beautiful only that it's right' (talking about music)...often they're the same thing - if they're not always the same thing what's the point in beauty? //poetry or truth - many would say they're the same thing.

The look on Eurus' face when Sherlock starts playing 'him'...... Remember. She said. 'no, not Bach clearly you don't understand him. Play you.' not 'yourself' but 'you' there's something at work, here. So, Sherlock's acknowledged and embraced his sexuality which he kept repressed because they're dangerous/sinful what have you hence Eurus having been able to escape. Why not before.....

'one of the nurses got careless' /John is a doctor.

And her Christmas present....... Moriarty is clearly the embodiment of Sherlock's sexuality in the outside world. Eurus (psychological representation) and Moriarty (physical representation) together..... Collided. At LAST.

The tender smile at the end of the scene. She's proud of him. Happy to see him after so long. As she is. Not in a disguise. (next scene) John's worried of the storm breaking outside/worried over others' reaction? Over how Sherlock feels about them knowing? Symbol of Sherlock's inner agitation?

'She was never the same after that Christmas' //'after that he was different' HALF AN HOUR after. They're repeating themselves. Tut-tut.

'touch the glass and I'll tell you the truth' The glass is supposedly keeping her in - but the truth is she's not really. Like Moriarty in TRF she's there because she chose to.

Right. She chose to go back.

Because Sherlock chose to put her  Because all of their friends don't... Quite agree? But still visit now and then (and there's nothing that says that she comes for a visit). The meeting with the whole family... Sherlock's coming out - they have to be exposed on a regular basis to understand and accept?

He's being 'the adult one'. By sacrificing himself again. He does not reject that part of himself (his visits... To stay sane, too and not go on a sociopathic murderous spree as Moriarty did? Remember, Moriarty was an actor pretending to be an actor. First time he 'accidentally' met Sherlock he was disguised as a gay man. And 'a disguise is always a self portrait') but he chose to put it back until it was 100% safe

'You're a celebrity these days Sherlock you can't afford a drug habit' (TEH)... You're a celebrity Sherlock, you can't afford being gay? That's not as frowned upon but...... But prejudiced people who would have come to him for help would not have done so had had he not been in the closet. (thinking of the US ambassador in TRF)

Also... The time line.

‘5 years ago.’ Sherlock might not have fallen for John immediately after meeting him (even though it certainly rattled something inside him) but...

18 months for series 1+2 

Two years gap, Sherlock being dead and John grieving him.

 Series 3 seems to span over a little less than a year (November-May/the wedding then Christmas and New Year/HLV) 

TAB Sherlock's auto analysis and Mary's pregnant as an elephant (in the room). something like a year for series 4. Also, Sherlock and John met on 29th January. Not exactly Christmas date-wise but close enough.  Besides it doesn't even say Christmas day. It says '5 years ago'

‘I want to break free’ That one does not even need any analysis, self explanatory.

Doesn't add up. 'so am I under arrest again?' er, that was 5 years ago. Assuming there's been a two years gap between TLD and TFP... Doesn't add up.

Moriarty has been under arrest as in Sherlock put him behind bars because he was starting to get promiscuous.

('am I under arrest again' references on an obvious level THB... But they've taught us to read between the lines haven't they...)

I mean 'she's noted your interest in the activities of my little brother' Said little brother thinks metaphorical and exterior sexuality and feelings should meet because things with John... Upset him and he doesn't understand (you're falling for him and you want him, you complete moron)

An event in Sherlock's childhood that made him aware that he liked boys? While not conscious it's far from being unlikely that a genius would not become mature earlier than his peers.

He might have rejected it because 'Ew, involves feelings. Messy. I'd rather stay focussed and logical.' Not homosexuality, but sexuality as a whole.

Noticed that Eurus meeting with Moriarty shifts into John opening his eyes.

Sherlock telling Mycroft to 'shut up, dear' shows how serious he is. Doesn't want to engage in banter. With his family. This is a serious matter.

He's 'met his sister', after all.

About the trials... 'it has to be your brother or your friend'... 'focus on moral conflicts'.... Deciding?

What if the time line in Sherrinford is skewed as well? Most of it happens 'five years ago' and in the end he does choose for Eurus to get back to the prison - but he will visit her and not forget his complete identity until time proves to be right.

'today we have to be soldiers' Important sentence, Sherlock looks up to watch John say it. Coming out even to oneself is a battle hence the soldier part.

The Garridebs is about sight. That's the most important clue. Sherlock's turning an inner eye on himself.

The coffin is about feelings of love. Save love. Don't let it die

'It's not a game. I need you to help me.' //'for God's sake Sherlock, it's not a game!' (TLD)

Molly not only is a John mirror she also (here) is the representation of Love. (Mike Stamford is the representation of Cupid)

And Eurus is emotional over it. 'look what you did to yourself'.

Kinda killed Love without having it really utterly die.

He's not ready (let's assume it's all 5 years ago. Would have been hard for the make up department to unage them all after all)

He refuses to make a choice - John or Mycroft.

'You shame the family name'......

‘Connection, connection, connection, there must be a connection.’

Well... John/sexuality/emotions vs Mycroft/reason/not- heteronormativity-but- close Holmes don't do these things. Because sex is base (as in ‘interferes with thinking’) And Holmes who pride themselves in their brain will hold that as the most important of all. Hence the 'you shame the family name' and Holmes reaction when Watson told him 'you are flesh and bones you have - you must have impulses' -  Not because it was Watson but because he does have impulses that interfere with thinking

'Just turbulence'....... Coming to a conclusion....? Or starting to.

'I am lost without your live save me soul seek my room' // I want to break free... And I want you to acknowledge me.

So by TSOT Sherlock's deduced himself in love with John but series 4 is about him and John coming to terms with their sexuality.

'locked him in her old cell (...) not as strong as he thinks he is' // Mycroft's repressing his own sexuality, too (also, back to the film he was watching at the beginning of the episode) 'I'm not lonely, Sherlock. - how would you know?'

(that film was a guilty pleasure. Because indulging in er, sensations. Couldn't show porn, could they.)

Sherlock and john rebuilding 221b. Phoenix rises from its ashes. (I know Ash!)

'who you really are, it doesn't matter. It's all about the adventures'

It doesn't matter, shouldn't matter to society because its YOU who come first. You and your adventures. It is YOUR life.

[teachanarchy]

We can all play a role in helping defuse even the most bitter conflicts. Veteran negotiator William Ury shares his hard-won insights.

My passion in life is helping people and societies to move from no to yes. As a negotiator, mediator and cofounder of the Program on Negotiation at Harvard University, I’ve spent more than four decades traveling the world and getting involved in some of the most difficult conflicts of our time, from the Cold War to the Middle East.

One of my favorite negotiation stories is about a man who leaves his herd of 17 camels to his three sons as their inheritance. To the first son, he leaves half the camels; to the middle son, he leaves a third of the camels; and to the youngest son, he leaves a ninth of the camels. The three sons get into an intense negotiation over who should get how many, because 17 doesn’t divide by two, or by three, or by nine. Tempers become strained, so in desperation they consult a wise, old woman. She listens to their problem and says, “Well, I don’t know if I can help you, but if you want, at least you can have my camel.” Now they have 18 camels, so the first son takes half of them, or nine camels; the middle son takes his third, or six camels; and the youngest son takes his ninth, or two camels. Nine plus six plus two adds up to a total of 17 camels. There is one camel left over, so the brothers give it back to the woman.

Many of our negotiations and conflicts today are like those 17 camels — they seem impossible to resolve, with no apparent solution in sight. What we need to do is step back from the situation, look at it through a fresh lens, and come up with an 18th camel. Finding that 18th camel in the world’s conflicts has been my life’s work.

If you think about the human predicament today, we are a bit like those three brothers, because we are one human family. Thanks to technology, all the tribes on the planet can, for the first time, get in touch with each other. And the big question facing us is: How do we deal with our deepest differences, given the human propensity for conflict and the human ability to devise weapons of enormous destruction?

We tend to see conflict as two-sided, and we frequently fail to see there is always a third side.

Almost 30 years ago, I was invited to South Africa to do negotiation work. I decided to take an extra month to spend time with the San Bushmen of the Kalahari to study how they resolve conflicts. I was interested in them because, until not long before, they’d lived as hunters and gatherers, the way of life humans had followed for 99 percent of our history. For hunting, the San use deadly poison arrows. So what do they do when tempers rise and conflict threatens to turn destructive? As I saw for myself, someone first goes and hides the poison arrows. Then everyone sits down in a circle and begin to talk and to listen, often for days on end. They don’t rest until together they’ve reached a resolution or, better yet, reconciliation. And if tempers are still hot, one of the parties is sent off to visit relatives for a few months to cool down.

I call this mechanism of community engagement in conflict the “third side,” and this system, I believe, is probably what has kept our species alive. We tend to see conflict as two-sided: labor versus management, husband versus wife, or Republicans versus Democrats. And what we frequently fail to see is there is always a third side: it’s us, the surrounding community, the friends, allies, family members, neighbors. When I returned to my work in South Africa after being with the San Bushmen, I saw with new eyes the third side in the bitter and violent conflict dividing that country. Business leaders, religious leaders, labor unions, women’s groups — in other words, the community — were working to transform the conflict. Nelson Mandela himself could be understood not just as a leader of one side, but as a third-side leader who also stood for the whole, who was fighting, as he expressed it so eloquently, for the freedom of the whites as well as the blacks. From the outside, the political transformation in South Africa seemed almost miraculous. Everyone was expecting bloodshed to continue forever, and the secret was the activation of the third side.

The most fundamental way in which the third side can help is to remind the parties of what’s really at stake. When we are locked in conflict, it can be easy to lose perspective and simply react. Human beings are reaction machines, and as the saying goes, when you’re angry, you will make the very best speech you will ever regret. The third side can remind the arguing parties to go to a place of perspective — I call it the “balcony” — by reminding them to stop fighting and start talking, whether it’s for the sake of the children or the family or our community or the future.

There’s an old saying that some conflicts are so difficult, they can only be healed with a story.

Back in the mid ’90s, I was facilitating talks between the top leaders of Russia and the top leaders of Chechnya, who were fighting a war. We met in the Hague in the Peace Palace, where the Yugoslav war-crimes tribunal was taking place at the time. Our talks got off to a rocky start as the vice president of Chechnya began attacking the Russians: “You should stay here in your seats, because you’ll be next on trial for war crimes!“ And he turned to me and said, “And you’re an American. Look at what you Americans are doing to the people of Puerto Rico!”

My mind started racing: ”Puerto Rico? What do I know about Puerto Rico?” But I remembered just in time to get back to the balcony. So when he paused and everyone looked at me for a response, I thanked him for his remarks. Then I said, “I appreciate your criticism of my country, and I take it as a sign that we’re among friends and can speak candidly to one another. And what we’re here to do is not to talk about Puerto Rico or the past. We’re here to see if we can figure out a way to stop the suffering and the bloodshed in Chechnya.” The conversations got back on track.

Most people wonder whether every conflict has a third side — surely, in the seemingly unresolvable conflicts in Middle East, there is no third side, right? I’d argue that there is. While I don’t claim to have the ultimate answer to conflict in the Middle East, I do have a first step to suggest: to take a literal first step. By understanding the story of the Middle East, we can figure out the third side. In short, the origin story goes like this: 4,000 years ago, a man and his family walked across the Middle East, and the world has never been the same since. That man was Abraham, or Ibrahim as he is known in much of the region. His basic message was of unity and of interconnectedness, and his primary value was kindness toward strangers. That’s probably what he’s best known for: his hospitality. In this sense, he’s the symbolic third side of the Middle East, because he’s the one who can remind us that we’re all part of a greater whole.

There’s an old saying that some conflicts are so difficult, they can be healed only through a story. To use Abraham’s story as a vaccine against religious and ethnic intolerance, we need to bring it to life. A simple way to do that is to go for a walk in his footsteps. There’s something very special and powerful about going for a walk together. You’re usually side-by-side, moving in the same direction. Whoever fought while they walked? Maybe that’s why, in tough negotiations, sometimes the parties go for walks, like the famous walk in the woods during US-Soviet talks in 1982. Walks can lead to breakthroughs — they are a way to go to the balcony and get some perspective.

A struggle is going on between our technological genius for destruction and our social genius for cooperation and coexistence.

This led me to the idea of opening up the ancient path of Abraham — creating a cultural route through the Middle East a bit like the Silk Road or the Camino de Santiago — that could serve as an unlikely and transformative meeting place for humanity. I told people, and many of them thought it was a crazy idea, of course. We studied the possibilities and logistics at Harvard for a year or two, and then, in 2006, a group of us from ten different countries and many different backgrounds decided to try it out — to retrace Abraham’s ancient journey from womb to tomb. We started in Urfa, in southern Turkey (formerly northern Mesopotamia), which is where people believe Abraham was born, and journeyed together to Harran, where, according to the ancient scriptures, he set off on his journey. Then we went to Aleppo, which, it turns out, takes its name from Abraham’s milking his goat to give to the poor, and then to Damascus, which has a long history associated with Abraham. We traveled next through the highlands of northern Jordan to Jerusalem and Bethlehem and, finally, to Hebron, the place where he was buried. It was an extraordinary and moving journey.

As we discovered when we walked through these communities in the Middle East, Abraham is not just a figure out of a book — he’s a living presence, a symbol of hospitality. “In the name of Father Ibrahim, let me offer you some food” was a phrase that we heard. In places where you might expect hostility, we received the most amazing hospitality. No matter what divides us, we saw that what unites us is far greater. That’s the meaning of the Abraham Path. Since that first journey, over 1,000 miles of walking trails along the Abraham Path have been mapped out and developed. Thousands of people are walking, from local schoolchildren to expatriates to visitors from around the world. As unlikely as it may sound, with the wars in the region, more and more people are walking parts of the path every year. In a world where fear of strangers is on the rise, that’s what this most unlikely of paths is all about: building human connection and transforming fear into hope. And it’s not just people’s psychology that has been altered by walking the path; it’s economics as well. As people walk, they help create livelihoods for those who live on or near the path. That’s the long-term potential of the Abraham Path: to shift our view of the Middle East, to change the image we have from hostility to hospitality, from terrorism to tourism. It can become a global symbol of hope and unity.

The world today is going through a period of intense polarization and political conflict, driven in part by the dizzying pace of globalization and the people who feel left behind. Whether it’s the bitter political divisions in the US or Brexit in Europe or the wars in the Middle East, conflict seems to be on the rise. In a larger sense, a struggle is going on between our technological genius for destruction and our social genius for cooperation and coexistence. What we need now is to awaken and mobilize our most ancient system for dealing constructively with conflict, the third side.

Perhaps we could create a platform that allows everyone to become a peacemaker, a third-sider. After all, technological platforms like Airbnb permit anyone with an apartment or house to become an innkeeper; Uber enables anyone with a car to become a taxi-driver. Think of the third side as a social immune system that can swarm conflicts, just as our immune systems deploy T-cells to swarm infections. Third-siders could listen with empathy, and then bring people to the balcony so they can act appropriately to contain, resolve and prevent destructive arguments. The secret to peace is us, and each of us can take a single step to bring the world a step closer to peace. There’s an old African proverb that goes: “When spider webs unite, they can halt even a lion.” It’s time for us to bring our webs together.