#i unfortunately am very much pilled on other characters but maybe ill think on her...

[tylorisgay]

this is just me being nitpicky about stuff when it got revealed johnny n claire got together n ppl decided to make it instead for brock n claire to get together but its like... ur just tossing her from man to man... like i dunno i wish to see more of claire not being written to be with a man tbh mu doesnt give her much to work with aside from hcs n orher things u could MAYBE infer from it but bweeeehhghhb

[threelivesthreeworlds]

Anonymous asked: Hello sorry if I was unclear. What I meant to say is that most people have a superficial view on intimacy of any sort, and so while I love Tang Qi's portrayal of romance, I hate most people's physicality-obsessed interpretations. Dunno if it's a western thing, but fanfiction is so out of alignment with canon romance themes that the characters are barely recognisable anymore. (1/4)

Secondly, Most readers/viewers do not give characters like Yehua or Lian Song a chance before making stereotypical assumptions about them. I love their real personalities, flaws and all, but I hate the sheer hyperexaggeration the fandom makes out of it (e.g. hating on Ji Heng). People just cannot see a character as a whole but put them into one category or the other. (2/4)

Thirdly, I just added that I relate to Lian Song(depression etc) because I kinda share his views on romance/love and don't really care for physical aspects that much. I'm aware he's a playboy, but he's also not a stereotypical one (which is unfortunately how most people interpret him) so it's a relief that your blog instead backs up my interpretation of him with facts. (3/4)

Lastly, I'm so sorry for ranting in the Q & A section. Making several points with a word limit really compromises what I'm trying to say 😆. But the bottom line was that fandoms' misinterpretations of your favourite characters makes it hard to see them in an objective light again. (4/4)  

(this 4th one came in after most of our answers were done, so we apologize if it comes off a little ??? we weren’t aware of the end goal for the anons received. We mean no ill-will in how we come across, just elaborating on things and we hope that’s alright with you. <3)

(Admin Lin): Hey! Thanks for sharing your opinions, though these anons are starting to get a little haughty for our own comfort to continue addressing. Both admins have our own grievances with the fandom / how it views particular characters (Ji Heng being a prime example here), however the fandom still offers plenty of good things from it. This is not only a western fandom “issue” (I say as this physicality isn’t necessarily an issue), it can be found in the eastern fandom as well for not only this series but others as well. Both admins are in fact western fandom despite Admin Ro being Asian.  

        As for when it comes down to interpretations - Peach Blossoms is written in first person and hard to find on the western side of the internet; Yehua has an extra from his perspective but that’s the only direct contact we get with him that isn’t through Bai Qian’s eyes. Qian isn’t a romantic person nor does she necessarily find what he does romantic, she’s been engaged to him for so long she kind of considered their engagement troublesome due to her past experience with his Uncle Sang Ji. When it comes to the drama’s take of Yehua, we get a clearer idea of him but at the same time it’s easy to see where others can’t grasp him in his entirety or simplify things when in a fanfiction. Or, for the likes of me, knows what he’s like but can’t formulate a more articulate summary or introspective version of him because of his extensive complexities and in some ways, the knowledge of a Chinese household of some fashion to express the intricacies of his upbringing. It’s merely harder. 

         In the case of Lian Song - the Western fandom doesn’t have access to the information that can be found on this blog as easily because Lotus Step is in the middle of a hiatus but will continue serializing by next year. So, it’s no one’s fault for misunderstanding what kind of playboy he is since that was only addressed in the fall of last year and the dramas both make it clear he’s a playboy / amorous person but never elaborates on it. So it’s an easy assumption to make that he may be a typical playboy by fans of the other available media because he’s not featured beyond Yehua’s uncle or Donghua’s best friend with touches here and there of his connection to Cheng Yu. It’s only in his novel that we get to see a different side of him that will ultimately have a shift at some point to what we see 50,000 years down the line. So, I’m not actually bothered by this myself, personally. It is bound to happen because no one on the western side of the fandom has as much access or want to read an untranslated novel. 

        With TQ’s stance on romance writing, I will say the concept of eternal love or a love that lasts 3,000 lifetimes is a very Chinese one that unless one digs through it with patience and interest in Buddhism / other Eastern religions, that it can be a harder nuance to grasp for those unfamiliar. 

(Admin Ro): We’re sorry you’ve had bad experiences with “fanon” material. We’re thankful that you like the content on this blog enough to comment on it! These are my opinions on the whole affair: as a Chinese woman who reads Chinese novels, from a perspective of writing tropes, hyper-exaggeration is already frequently utilized...in canon. And - from a personal standpoint, when the tropes hit right, I - don’t necessarily mind. Depth can be dug out of the text, but it’s understandable for people to simplify when they’re simply writing or analyzing for their enjoyment.  

        I’m ace, so maybe I understand, Nonny, when you say that you don’t care for the physical aspects of love.  I personally, in my life, don’t necessarily want or need that kind of intimacy, and I don’t find myself straying into the smut tag too often to read about it as it stretches my comfort limits. Granted, I am not sex-repulsed, and it takes a great deal to upset me - however, if everything is in layers and someone enjoys writing smut, then they simply enjoy that layer. Romance isn’t less good and interpretations aren’t less good if there’s a degree of physicality in it. Heck, Admin Lins and I have discussed extensively the physicality of these books - we keep it off the blog 80% of the time because tagging, but it’s a present theme. And, all of us enjoy different things. At the end of the day I think we can’t say the tropes aren’t good when the tropes are the lead-ins that drew us into the more extensive stories.

         Furthermore, a lot of what is on this blog is “read,”and I will never say my read of a character or a part of canon is “right” - or that it's “right”-er than someone else’s. Yes, there’s room for passionate debate as evidenced by many, many essays, but I’m not upset when I can’t change anyone’s mind. People are not automatically wrong when they disagree with me - even if there’s textual evidence, there is difference in interpretation of that textual evidence. I understand why fandom thinks the way it does - though, you’ll have to forgive me, my brain is 90% of the time focused on Pillow Book. Regardless, whether you walk out of a book thinking “this character has this much depth and this many flaws” or “this character is just a flat out antagonist” is very much dependent on you. Yes, we as a blog synthesize textual evidence to make that synthesis easier, but ultimately we are no better judges of anyone’s personality than anyone else out in the fandom.

         Rather, I think sometimes for the sake of finding reasons or understanding, or when we look for evidence fitting our own assumptions about characters sometimes we lean into a softer read, maybe entirely without realizing it. This is a big no in the world of analytical writing for the sake of, ironically “objectivity”  - but this is for enjoyment and not academia. There are times when textual evidence is untouched by the author's tone in terms of connotation and so when we take it for our reading and we have our pre-formed opinions we fall a little more between the lines. Admin Lins and I obviously differ in where this happens as we each have our own, minutely different vibes for characters in question. We know where our confirmation biases in interpretation might lie. Everyone has those. 

         Up till about February or March this year, I, like a lot of the rest of this fandom, wanted to roast Ji Heng on a spitfire. That is my bias. We are humans, and I think we are perhaps incapable of reading something and staying entirely objective to each character. I clawed my way out of my bias (I say ‘clawed’ because it was difficult), however, by looking at the book, looking at my own opinions, looking at other people’s opinions and asking myself: which parts of this is most likely to be true? I think the only way of striving toward objectivity in terms of portrayal is to consider other people’s portrayals, even if you don’t like them - and see if there’s any truth you can see past your bias. And to accept that truth, even if it’s a hard pill to swallow.

         I guess what I have been trying to say, for this entire time, is that we are not the authority on what is and isn’t objective, on what is and isn’t right in these characters, interpretations, and this blog. We are glad to be an interpretation you enjoy - but that doesn’t mean the rest of the fandom who have different opinions are wrong or misinterpretations. I realize we can come across like that sometimes because we make salty memes and because we write long paragraph essays when we have opinions, but ultimately, no one is wrong. Our bubble of enjoyment is our bubble, and no one has to agree with us.

[acim]

Burden, Labels, and Throwing the Towel In

I can vividly remember the exact moment that I tried to kill myself. I stood in my room at my dresser, with a bottle of pills, alone, crying, inconsolable. I had switched out the pills in a vitamin bottle with Tylenol PM, I didn’t want my mom to find out what I had done. As if she wouldn’t notice her dead son. But I didn’t think of that, I just wanted to waste away alone, never to be a burden again. And so I swallowed all of the pills in 6 mouthfuls, each one more painful than the next. I past out shortly after. I remember waking up on the bathroom floor, covered in vomit, my mother banging on the door, before I slipped away again. I finally woke up in a hospital bed and was transferred to a psych ward shortly thereafter.

Unsurprisingly, this was a difficult experience, but also a transformational one. I would not be who I am today if not for this dark moment. It was sobering. In the hospital, I saw stranger-peers in some of the greatest emotional pain I had ever seen; I heard stories that emptied me and made me feel absolutely hollow. I realized that although I have had a tough childhood, many - even those in my family - have had it much worse. This brought myself into a new perspective that has allowed me to forgive those that had failed me in my time of need, as I know they did so not out of spite, but out of inability or ignorance.

While in the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to comfort each of these people physically, through a hug, a handshake, a hand on the shoulder, something small but significant. But we were not allowed to connect physically unfortunately, out of the ward’s fear of bodily harm. So instead, we connected emotionally through our unity in labels, we were the mentally ill.

Specifically, I was “generally anxious” whatever that vague label means. I’ve never been comfortable with that label, and have always felt it as something I had to hide. I thought people would hate me or reject me if they knew that I was “weak”. And I’ve tried to unpack that and get down to the root cause of it, whether that be masculinity, shame, or saving face; I’m unsure. However, I do know that it partially comes down to never wanting to be a burden to anybody. Which is a very common worry of most people, but it’s such a weird thing to worry about when you really think about it. I love people “burdening” me in ways that I’d worry about. I love people venting to me and sharing with me things that they hold sensitively. But yet we all still worry about it.

“I should ask them to hang out, but I know they’re busy”

“I already texted him, I can’t double text him”

“I probably am boring to him”

And maybe partially this stems from the innate fear of rejection, especially by people we hold near and dear. We can never truly get away from that fear or rejection until we are truly connected with each other, as we cannot know what we are separate from. However, we can take action to try and get over this barrier; because in reality, by being a “burden” we are unburdening each other. We are helping them through bringing them closer to ourselves, and they are helping us by bring ourselves closer to them.

And that is a Miracle.

So be bold, be a burden.

Although my previous label of Generalized Anxiety brought negative emotions, my new label of ADHD has brought untold unity and connection. This is not only because of the physical effects of the medication, which allow me to obtain the clarity and motivation to think this deeply and write, but also because of the unity I find in the label. I find comfort that other people have felt this way before, that I am not insane, I am not alone. No one wants to feel alone and separate, wholly loveless. But yet we often push ourselves away from others through seeking ways to diminish this absence of love. We are self-sabotaging. One of my favorite quotes in the Course is about this:

“Yet the ego, though encouraging the search for love very actively, makes one proviso; do not find it. Its dictate, then, can be summed up simply as: “Seek and do not find.””

There is so much to unpack here between the futility of actively looking for Love -- when you can only receive what you give out -- to the temptation that seeking has over finding -- that’s the fun part we love to do after all; the grass is always greener on the other side. But, I want to focus in on how this quote relates to labels for me.

Labels, while they cannot create unity within a group, tend to also create disparity outside of a group. Although at our very core, we are all the same, we do have significant differences in our behaviors, actions, and thoughts. To find like-minded people is pure joy; it is like a breath of fresh air when you can talk to someone and really feel understood. And labels help us quickly see where those people may be, they help us Seek.

“Democrat” “Conservative” “Gay” “Christian” “SJW”

And this is not a bad thing at all, this gives us a quick way to bring each other closer, and that is never a bad thing. However, a fine balance, as always, is needed. Trekking too far into a label can create this “us vs. them” mentality. This happens particularly awfully when we start to identify more with the concept of the group than with the group itself, and this is where we give in to the ego and lose the ability to Find. We then begin to be closed-minded and the people and ideas that oppose your concepts are now hurtful because they also oppose you, as you have separated yourself and become the concept. You cannot be both the concept and the group, for one is self-centered while the other is selfless-centered. If, rather, you can identify as the group, then you can more easily accept conceptual dissonances and grow from that acceptance. You are then less likely to Attack and Judge others based on your ideology because you do not feel the need to guard it so vehemently, as it is not yourself.

So always remember that when you are connecting with people, you are not connecting with their ideas, but with them.

One specific label that has brought me a lot of agita over the past week or so is teacher. I think this is partially self-inflicted from me thinking I’m different than everyone else; and I’m trying to get into right-minded think in that regard, but uhh… we not there yet. At the same time, it is intrinsically true that I am not the concept of a teacher, although that doesn’t mean that I am not like teachers. Meaning, while the description of character and passions/desires of a teacher may not follow my own - I do not have passion for youth, or for creating great lessons, or for education in general - I am like my coworkers in that I do care for my students greatly. I can do this as a job temporarily, but I can not make it long-term. It is both a disservice to my students who deserve someone that can and will provide for their needs (especially for my students that have extreme needs that I cannot even begin to provide, as I am not whole). It is also a disservice to me for not following the path I have been set on, and for not prioritizing my mental health, which has struggled as a result of teaching the past few months.

I forced this new decision to become a teacher so hard. I knew this job was not for me, but I squashed that thought, I did not listen to Myself or God, both of which tried in vain to guide me. I also went into it for the wrong reasons: a desire to move on and not truly live in the present (Seek but do not find), a desire for a better schedule, a desire to be someone I’m not - I can lose myself in others that are close to me like I said - a desire for a “better” job. I will get on the right path again by leaving education quickly and going back into the medical field in some way. What way, I am unsure of yet. I am confident though that this is the correct step back onto my path.

This is a recurring theme for myself and many others as well: we force ourselves into who we think we are or who we want to be rather than allowing ourselves to be who we truly are. And that’s such a tricky problem to tackle, it’s so big and nebulous. But I think the best way to do this is to let go of the past - this frees us from who we think we are - and the future - this frees us from who we want to be - and focus on the present - this sets us up to be who we truly are. This is not to say that we should barrel forward like a bull through a china shop, never looking back or forward. But instead, we should be observant of our past actions, and try to understand the cause that underlies our non-harmonious actions through reflection. And that reflection is the keypiece that brings the past into the present and makes it so fundamentally different than the past.

[krystalreverb]

In Sickness and in Health

Sorta during Conquest-y? Iago's alive still, but maybe in the middle of it all while they're still using Castle Krakenburg as a home base? Perhaps it's a story outside of canon. But in my head I was thinking Conquest route.

All the other side characters in this are bloody useless, I'm only using them as plot devices, they have no value other than to further Laslow and Xander's journey of love here.

In Sickness and in Health

Snow fell violently over Nohr's landscape. The darkness and silence was punctuated by wind and snow, piling up and freezing into thick sheets of white ice that blocked roads and forced many people into their homes for shelter. Laslow, with his slight frame, was buffeted by the wind as he traveled back from town to the castle, having picked up a few things in town that his lord had asked of him. The snow and wind hadn't been so bad when he first set out earlier in the day. Luckily, due to inclement weather, Xander had agreed to meet him halfway, and picked up Laslow on his horse to bring him home.

Xander managed to shut the door of the castle against the biting wind, and a few maids took the shopping bags off of Laslow and took them away.

“Laslow, get out of your wet clothes before you catch your death.” Xander said. Laslow stood shivering, wrapped up in the towel the maids brought to him.

He staggered towards his quarters, already feeling not quite right.

“Laslow, wait.” Xander sighed, catching up to him. “Let me help you. You look so helpless all wrapped up like that--”

Laslow interrupted him accidentally by means of a violent sneeze which shook him to his very core. Xander blinked.

“You've already caught your death, haven't you?”

“With all due respect, milord, if a chest cold is what kills me, I daresay that would be a rather anticlimactic way to die after all I've been through. Achoo! Agh....”

Xander took off his cloak and wrapped it around Laslow's shoulders, leading him deeper into the castle and into his own quarters. “I have a fireplace. Sit near it.” Xander, having been trained in magic just like his siblings as a child, flicked his hand and lit the fireplace before adding another couple of logs to it. Laslow cuddled up in a ball under the cloak, shivering as close to the fire as he could without being burned or set aflame. Xander took a moment to look at his retainer's condition and assess the situation. Laslow's lips and nose were slightly purple in color, as were his fingertips. His cheeks were burning bright red. He was definitely ill.

“You'll stay with me until you are recovered, am I clear?”

“Y-yes, milord-- achoo! Yes, sire.”

“I'll call the maids to bring you some hot soup. I'll... I'll call Flora. I'd rather not treat you for third degree burns as well as a chest cold.”

“Sounds like an apt plan, milord.” Laslow rasped. His throat was getting sore.

“I'll have her bring up some tea as well. Something to soothe your throat.”

Laslow simply nodded, and Xander left to go chase down Flora. When he returned, Laslow had slumped before the fire, passed out cold. Flora rushed in to check on him.

“He's having difficulty breathing. I suspect he may have pneumonia, Lord Xander. I'll call for a healer. In the meantime, I'll give him an herbal remedy to clear his airways.” Flora pulled out a small satchet and poured the contents down Laslow's throat, resting his head in her lap as she did so to keep his throat straight. Laslow had no response for a moment, then coughed violently and woke up, curling around Flora instinctively in pain.

“There we go. He can breathe again. For now, anyway. Give him the soup and the tea and try to keep his airways clear, alright, milord? If he starts wheezing, coughing excessively, or looks like he's about to faint, smack him on the back until his airways clear again.” She instructed.

“Very well. I'll endeavor to do so. You know, this wouldn't have happened if Felicia had just told me the weather report like she was told to do.”

“She was in the healer's ward being patched up from breaking another dish. I was not made aware of her instructions or I would have told you the report myself.” Flora responded.

“Fair enough.”

Flora left to go fetch a healer. Laslow whined when she went away, possibly missing the warmth of her body. Xander helped him up. “Stay by the fire, Laslow. You're very ill. Didn't I tell you to get rid of those cold, wet clothes?”

“I found it inappropriate to be clad in my smallclothes in my liege's bedchambers, milord.” Laslow rasped painfully.

“At this point, Laslow, my orders are my orders. You can borrow some of my bed clothes. They'll be too big but they're dry and warm. Here.” Xander went into his wardrobe and retrieved a set of bed clothes made of a tight fleecy material, made for keeping the cold out. “My washroom is right there. Go change.”

Laslow had to use Xander as a crutch to stand up, but then toddled into the washroom and changed his clothes.

“Leave the wet clothes in the hamper. The maids will take care of it.” Xander called through the door. Laslow emerged a few minutes later, fussing with the ties on the loose trousers to keep them from slipping down his hips. He flopped back down in front of the fire, and added another log.

“Is this how it ends? Pneumonia? After all I've done, all the life I've lived?” Laslow lamented, coughing.

“You're not dying, Laslow. Relax. You're just ill from the weather. It will pass.”

Xander put his cloak back around Laslow's shoulders and wrapped him up tightly. “Keep warm. Here. Flora brought you soup.” He put the tray down in front of Laslow and let him eat. Laslow had to wiggle his arms through the cloak to eat it, and his hands were shaking so violently he could barely get the spoon to his mouth. Xander sighed. “You're going to be wearing half of that soup at this rate. Give me the spoon.”

“Milord, I can't possibly ask you to feed me like a child. I'm ill, not infirm. I can still try to feed myself.”

“Must I repeat myself, Laslow?”

“....No, milord.” Laslow handed over the spoon and Xander sat beside him and began to spoon feed his shivering retainer soup. After a few awkward minutes of silence, Laslow spoke up.

“It's times like this I miss my mother. She used to sit where you sat and feed me when I was ill...I was often ill, back then. Mum on one side, Father on the other... my sister calling for healers in the background...” Laslow murmured.

“It sounds like you had a loving family.”

“I did.... until the war came.” Laslow stopped talking after that. Xander took it as a cue not to pry further, and simply continued to feed him quietly. Once the bowl was empty, Xander put it away and picked up the tea. It smelled strongly herbal, likely a blend to boost the immune system and help Laslow's body fight off the infection.

“So you had a sister?” Xander asked suddenly. “What was her name?”

“Lucy.” Laslow responded simply.

“And your parents?”

“Their names have been lost to time, I'm afraid. The most wonderful parents I could ever have asked for. Father was stern, but fair, and loved to laugh. Mum was a dancer, and her dances never failed to bring a smile to Father's face. They had a knight, Frederick, who worked for them and lived with us. He was essentially our nanny. If one of us got grounded, it was Frederick making us train as punishment. We were... a noble family.” It wasn't exactly a lie. Technically, royalty counted as nobility, no?

“What happened to them?”

“I'd very much like to change the subject now, if it''s all the same to you.”

“I understand. I won't pry further. Drink your tea, Laslow.”

Laslow obeyed, but made a face at the taste. “Ugh, this tastes like straight menthol. Do I have to drink this? It tastes like I'm chewing on a mint plant.”

“Yes, Laslow. You have to drink that. It's helping your system fight off the illness.”

“If I can fight off a dozen armed brigands without this cauldron slop, I'm sure I can fight off pneumonia.”

“Drink the tea, Laslow. Do not make me repeat myself.”

Laslow sighed (wheezily, mind you), and took another swig. It seemed he was trying to down it like a shot of whiskey to avoid the taste as much as he could. It still made him cringe. But orders were orders.

“Oh, Laslow. If I'd only known the forecast, I could have spared you this.”

“Don't worry yourself sick over me. Neither of us knew. It's fine. Really, milord, it was an unfortunate turn of events, not some imagined mishap on your part.” Laslow replied, intermittently coughing. “Things being as they are, I'm ill, and that's just something I have to deal with.”

Flora returned with an experienced healer in tow, who gave Laslow a cursory exam, confirmed the pneumonia diagnosis, and gave him a supply of medicine in little capsules that he was to take twice a day for the next ten days, regardless of whether or not his health improved before then.

“Take the entire regimen regardless. If you don't, the pneumonia will just bite back stronger.” The healer warned.

“Yes, ma'am.” Laslow agreed, taking the pills from her and downing the first dose with another cringe at the taste. “Gods above us, why does being sick have to be this miserable? Just being ill is bad enough, but everything used to treat it tastes like plants.”

Day Two was a little less miserable, as Laslow had accepted his fate of being doted on in Xander's bedchambers, wearing Xander's clothes. Camilla had come in, learned of the situation, and insisted on caring for Laslow so Xander could get work done. Truth be told, Laslow didn't mind Camilla doting on him one bit-- especially from this angle. He wasn't about to voice that opinion out loud, though. He was far too attached to his flesh. Yet Camilla, bless her, didn't seem to notice that her ample bosom was nearly squashing the poor retainer's head as she leaned over him to check his fever via pressing her lips gently to his forehead. Laslow felt quite feverish in that moment.

“You poor dear, your fever is quite high. Are you alright?”

“I do feel a bit warm, milady.”

“Let's get you out of that terrible shirt, you need blood flow to your head.”

“I'm yours to command, milady.”

“So dutiful. My brother really picked a good one. Here, dear, let me help you.”

And just like that, Camilla whipped the shirt off Laslow's back and discarded it in the laundry hamper. Laslow listed to the side feverishly and Camilla caught him about the shoulders and put him back in place. Xander, doing paperwork on the other side of the room, rolled his eyes. Only Laslow could take a legitimate illness and turn it into an excuse to flirt with Camilla. It truly boggled Xander's mind, just how much his wayward, flighty retainer truly honestly and completely did not give a fuck. Xander would have even accused Laslow of faking it, had he not seen how truly awful the man was feeling the night before.

Camilla continued to gently dote on Laslow, refilling his tea and helping him sit up so he could drink it. She noticed the odd lattice of scars littering Laslow's back and shoulders, as if he'd been whipped with a string of blades over and over, for at least a few weeks. “Goodness me, Laslow, where did you get all those scars on your back?”

Laslow froze. He'd forgotten they were even there. And he sputtered uselessly for a moment. “Th-th-they're old war wounds, milady, nothing to worry about. Years old, from when I was a teen. They're nothing.” His tone was a bit harsher than he'd intended, but Camilla seemed to get the message. Do not ask.

“....Alright, dear, if you say so.” She shared a pleading glance with Xander, who simply shrugged. He didn't know either, and Laslow's tone was very clear. Camilla seemed content to forget the exchange ever happened, as she spoon-fed soup to Laslow and continued to dote on him sweetly, but Laslow's enthusiasm was dampened, and he simply sunk back down into the sheets, curling into Xander's bedspread so tightly it looked as though he were trying to snuff himself out like a lit candle.

Later, when Laslow was sleeping, Camilla pulled Xander aside. “Those scars concern me, brother.”

“I as well. However, we shouldn't pry. I feel as though it's a stone we should rather leave unturned.”

“You want to look the other way? Xander, someone hurt him. Those scars were healed over a period of months, and some are older than others.”

“I know, Camilla, but we can't ask. Look at him. You heard him. He's clearly ashamed of them enough to not want to show them. Prying into his past will only upset him. I do so hate it when he's not smiling. It's... unnatural, somehow, for a frown to come across him. Not right.”

“I see... I'll respect his wishes, then. Oh, but thinking about who could have ever hurt him like that just fills me with such anger... I want to slowly separate whoever hurt Laslow from their wretched skin.”

“I know. But it's Laslow's life. And right now, Laslow doesn't need the added stress. His body is fighting off pneumonia. He needs rest and care, not stress.”

“You're right... so why do I feel so bad?”

Xander looked over at Laslow, sleeping quietly. His mouth was open to allow air, and he wheezed slightly as he slept. His chest was shiny with the herbal oils rubbed on it to help keep his airways clear, and the blanket slightly stuck to him as he shifted his weight in bed. All in all, it was a blissfully sounder sleep than last night, where Xander had to wake up multiple times to help Laslow stave off the wet, wheezy coughing.

Xander crumpled. “We'll ask when he wakes up. If the perpetrator is Nohrian, we'll have Beruka take care of it.”

“Very well. I think he's waking up now. I'll get him some more tea. Oh, Selena, darling, would you be a dear?” She called out the door for Selena to fetch some more tea for Laslow.

Selena brought it reluctantly, huffing, but she handed over the full teapot and a teacup on a tray. “So what's wrong with him?” she asked.

“He has pneumonia. A mild case but pneumonia nonetheless. He's quite miserable.” Camilla replied.

Laslow's eyes slowly fluttered open, and he groaned miserably, turning over onto his side and holding his head. “I feel as though my brain might explode.” He commented in such a raspy, guttural voice that Selena winced.

“Jeez, you really don't give a crap about your health, do you?” Selena asked him.

“Of course I do, you twit.” Laslow snapped rather harshly. “Sorry.... I didn't mean that. I've got a raging headache, is all.”

“Whatever. Get well soon or whatever, you big lump. You're a whiny mess when you're sick.” Selena left.

Camilla blinked. “Does she always talk to you like that?”

“Mm-hmm. It's fine, Selena and I are old childhood friends. Her mother was a pegasus knight in service to my father, a... high nobleman in our home country. We played together often. She's always been that abrasive.” Laslow rasped, still holding his skull as if it might crack open like an egg.

“Oh dear... let me go see if I can scare up any headache medicine. I'll be back.” Camilla trotted out of the room, and even with his skull about to crack, Laslow stole a look at her behind as she walked out the door. He hated seeing her go, but loved to watch her leave. Xander rolled his eyes.

“The least you could do is not stare at her rear while her older brother is in the room.” He said.

Laslow flushed and chuckled nervously. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough. I'll try to keep it in my trousers. Er...” Laslow looked down. “Your trousers.”

Xander had to laugh. “I'll send for your own belongings in the morning. I have the room basically quarantined for the next week, but I can have Camilla bring in some of your clothes from the wash.”

“I am slightly afraid the both of you will catch my disease.” Laslow said.

“Please. We're the Nohrian royal family. All of us have had all of the diseases at least once. If we catch something, I'm sure we can fight it off. My focus right now is getting you healthy. I can't have my retainer too ill to do his job.”

Laslow nodded. “Of course, sire.”

Xander sighed. “Camilla was very concerned about the scars on your back. I asked her not to pry, but she's out for blood. Can you shed a little light on those?”

Laslow groaned. “I was captured by enemy forces in the first war I fought in, back in my homeland. The war that took my parents away. I was contained, tortured for information, and repeatedly abused. I do not enjoy talking about it. The perpetrators of the crime are all very, very dead. I saw to that personally. Fashioning a shiv out of a brick isn't easy, but I had nothing but time in that cell. Can I stop talking about it now, milord?”

“Yes, Laslow. I'm sorry for prying.”

Laslow fell silent for a long moment. “It hurts, sometimes, hiding pain. When I was rescued, I had to pretend to be fine. People looked up to me for support. I couldn't let them down.” He murmured. “They wanted Laslow the Invincible, they wanted their lord of light, they.... I couldn't show how much I was hurting. How dare I, when the others had it just as bad if not worse than I did? How could I, when the war was still raging and we needed to keep up morale just to survive the wasteland? It just... sort of festered from within, what I endured. I... still think about it sometimes. All the smiles that were false, all the assurances that were lies... I feel almost as though I've lived a dishonest life. And that eats at me sometimes. Wouldn't it do the same for you?”

Xander pondered it. “....Yes, I suppose it would. I suppose I can understand that. Being the Crown Prince meant I had to lead even in the worst situations.”

“Yes... Crown Princes often have to hold their tongues in times of hardship.” Laslow said cryptically, before falling silent again and reaching for the pot of tea.

Camilla came back in and shot a glance at Xander, who gave her a grim look in reply. Camilla quickly plastered on a smile and handed Laslow a headache remedy.

“Ah. Thank you, milady. Much appreciated.” Laslow downed the remedy and chased it with the tea.

“Oh, your voice is so hoarse... you poor thing. Let me reheat that tea for you.” Camilla shot a weak fire spell at the teapot to warm it back up to drinking temperature. “How are you feeling?”

“Once that headache remedy kicks in, I'm sure to be right as rain, milady.”

Camilla smiled and patted Laslow on the head. “You poor dear... you'll be just fine in no time. I swear it.”

Laslow smiled weakly and drank his tea quietly. He looked out the window. “It looks like my mother's homeland, if I squint. Snow and ice and the harshness of winter, but with a subtle, shimmering beauty that only the sunset on a snow bank can be.” He murmured. “An ethereal beauty, one born of violence. It's... stunning. Like the very wind is dancing a frenzied, bloodthirsty waltz with itself.”

Camilla almost teared up. That statement came from a place deep in Laslow's heart, the core of who he was.

“Sorry.... I should be quiet. My throat and all.” Laslow looked back down at his teacup.

Xander continued to stare out the window. This was frozen hell. How could Laslow find it beautiful? It made him ill and is piling up snow around every corner. Icicles hung from the windowsill, sharp and threatening. The sky was cloudy and dark. This was a blizzard, not a wonderland. Yet Laslow looked so sincere, and his words were so genuine.

“I think it's about time for everyone to head in for the night, no? I'll be back in the morning, Laslow.” Camilla broke the tense silence, and patted Laslow's cheek before leaving.

“I suppose I'll still be up for a while yet.” Laslow said.

“It is rather beautiful, if one looks hard enough.” Xander still had his attention focused on the snow. “It's wild and untamed, like an unbroken horse. It's bucking to a tune all it's own. I suspect much could be said of any storm.”

“I think my fever is making me say odd things, milord. Don't take me at face value.” Laslow replied, pouring himself another cup of that awful tea. “Gods, this is misery. I feel as though my body is made of lead. It's infuriating more than anything.”

“Alright, move over a touch, Laslow. It's getting late and I need to sleep too.”

Laslow obediently shuffled over in bed and allowed Xander entry. Laslow took the last swallow of his tea and put the cup on the endtable. On a coaster. He would not dare mar Xander's expensive solid mahogany endtable with his tea stains. “Milord?”

“Yes, Laslow?”

“I wish, sometimes, I could take you back to where I was born... so you could fully understand why I left.”

“Perhaps someday you can take me there. I would allow us leave for that.”

“It's impossible to get to from here. It's.... so very far away.” Laslow said regretfully. “I would have liked to have you meet my mother, so she could see what a fine lord I serve. But my mother is gone, and my father too, and the gods only know where my sister could be. Alas, I can only hope she's alright.”

Xander patted Laslow on the shoulder, and realized that Laslow's odd ramblings were the result of his fever spiking tremendously. “Oh... Oh gods, Laslow.”

“Hmm?”

“I'm going to get that healer. Your fever's dangerous.” Xander got back up out of bed and rushed out the door.

By the time Xander returned, Laslow had devolved into singing softly to himself, his eyes glazed over and glassy. “Laslow!”

“Like glitter and gold....”

“Laslow!”

The healer got to work immediately, pressing a cool cloth to Laslow's forehead and feeding him pills from a clay bottle.

“You should have gotten me sooner, my lord. This is a dangerous fever. If I can't break it, he may die.”

Xander almost exploded into confetti at the thought. “Do what you have to.” He gritted his teeth to speak without screaming. His heart was breaking. Laslow looked so small, so fragile, wrapped up in Xander's oversized clothes and blankets, like a sick child. Xander wished with all his might that Laslow's mother might appear before them and fix it like Laslow said she'd done time and time again. He prayed for his own mother, who took care of him as a young child, so many years ago.

The healer continued to cool the cloth with cold water and mild healing magic. She worked diligently, patiently, while Laslow deliriously hummed to himself, unresponsive.

“My lord, please hold him still. I can't work while he's dancing like that.”

Xander obeyed wordlessly, climbing up next to Laslow and wrapping his arms around his shoulders to hold him steady. The healer continued working, until finally Laslow slipped into sleep, slumping against Xander's chest.

“His fever is broken for now, but call us as soon as it returns. Lady Camilla had the right idea, removing his shirt. He may complain that he's cold but that's just the fever. If he shows any sign of a fever, call us please.”

“I will. I'm sorry to disturb you so late at night.”

“One's health is a 24-hour job, your highness. I am always on call, as are the rest of the clerics at the castle. The health and welfare of Nohr's citizens and soldiers is our first priority.” The healer insisted. “Please. Regardless of the hour, if you have need of us, call. We are at your command, my prince. In any case, he will not die tonight. If he can make it through tomorrow, his chances only continue to increase until he is recovered fully.” The healer left. Xander laid there, now utterly unable to sleep, still holding Laslow in his arms. Laslow was on the edge of death, his fever so high it threatened to bake his brains alive in his skull, and now here he was, gently sleeping in Xander's arms as if he were fine. Xander was full of adrenaline and fear, trembling slightly. He almost lost Laslow to something as banal as illness. It sickened him slightly, thinking about Laslow's mortality. Laslow was mortal, as were them all, and Laslow could die. Xander shook himself out of his head and closed his eyes in a vain attempt at sleep. Just shut your eyes, Xander, for eight straight hours, you'll be fine.

Laslow awoke the next morning to find himself wrapped tightly in Xander's arms. Xander looked down at him, and immediately retreated his arms, apologizing softly.

“S'fine.” Laslow  slurred, still tired. “You think I haven't been comforted through sickness in the arms of a man before? Please, milord, this is me we're talking about.” He said nonchalantly. “The man in question at the time was a prostitute, of course, but in my defense many prostitutes in those days took up second jobs as healers to support themselves as the war raged and caused terrible inflation in the price of resources...” he went on to mumble. “So really, it's not that strange when you think about it...”

Xander stifled a laugh. “Alright, Laslow, you've made your point. I'm exhausted and don't feel like arguing.”

“My poor lord, didn't you sleep at all?”

“...No. I was too worried for you. I couldn't sleep.”

Laslow smiled softly. “I'm feeling a bit better today. Perhaps you should get some sleep. I'll entertain myself for the time being. Get some sleep, milord.”

“I'll try, but only if you insist you'll be alright on your own until Camilla wakes up, and only if you promise to wake me if your fever returns. I.... I almost lost you, last night, you know. You were so delirious with fever the healer thought you might have died. Please. I lost my first retainers already. Do not make me repeat  the experience.”

“I'll do my best, milord. That's all I can give you is my very best.”

“Thank you.” Xander slid down into the covers and slipped into sleep. Laslow leaned over him to grab a book from Xander's side of the bed and began to read to pass the time. He also remembered to take those awful pills the healer gave him.

When Camilla came in, Laslow put the book down and put his finger to his lips to indicate that she should be quiet, and pointed down at Xander, sleeping. Camilla nodded. “Don't worry, dear, I can be quiet as a mouse.” She whispered, coming over to check his fever.

“The healer gave me an update. You poor thing. I'm simply glad you're alive. Xander would be so lost in this world without you.”

“For him, milady, I'd beat down Death in fisticuffs before I let him take me away like this.” Laslow smiled. “Milady, could you do me a great boon and--”

“Gather your clothes?” Camilla held up Laslow's regular uniform, cleaned and pressed. “Already done, dearie. Go get changed and I'll bring you a new pot of tea.”

Laslow took his clothes and slipped into the washroom to change. He came back out relieved to be in his own trousers again. Camilla ushered him back into bed and gave him a meal she had prepared. “Eat up, dearie. I made different tea today, it's a special Hoshidan blend. Don't ask how I got it.” Camilla giggled. “But it's made with dried cherries and hibiscus blossoms.” She handed him a cup of very pink, fragrant tea, and upon the first sip Laslow smiled.

“You know you don't have to go through such lengths for me, milady. It should be us retainers doting on you through sickness, no?”

“Oh, Laslow...” Camilla sighed. “My brother adores you. You're his only true, close friend. Without you he'd be lost, and he needs you. He acts like the big, tough crown prince, but he's still scared of things that go bump in the night. I'm happy to dote on you, because I know that under my care, you'll recover fully, and Xander won't worry so much anymore.” She said. “He adores you, Laslow.”

Laslow looked down at the sleeping Xander. In sleep, Xander's brow unfurrowed. His eyes softened and became gentle. “Does he truly?”

“Laslow... dearest Laslow. You really are a bit thick. No other servant or even friend would be allowed to stay in Xander's room. Especially if they're ill.”

“Milord phrased it as a matter of convenience at the time, milady.” Laslow murmured, not entirely convinced.

“Haven't you learned yet that Xander isn't good at expressing his feelings, Laslow? That's just how he talks.” Camilla sighed. “He'd be Nohr's most charismatic son if he only applied himself.”

“Well.... it's all very flattering, truly, but what am I meant to do about it? I can't just lie here and suffer while he watches over me. I nearly died last night according to him. How do I recover and do him proud?”

“Just let me play mama for a while longer, okay? I'm happy to dote on you.” Camilla replied, and leaned in to check his fever. “Your fever is going down. That's a good sign. Have you been taking your medicine?”

“Yes, ma'am. Twice a day as the healer prescribed.” Laslow replied. “Let it never be said that I'm not a man who follows orders.”

“Good boy! That means you're no longer contagious and you should be fully recovered in a few more days. But you still have to take the medicine until it's gone.”

“I'm glad to get this overwith, milady.”

Xander awoke a few hours later to the smell of lunch that Camilla brought in for them both. “Thank you, sister.”

“It's my pleasure, Xander. Laslow's doing much better today.”

“I'm glad.” Xander smiled over at Laslow.

“Look, milord, those pills are awful but they are helping, and therefore I'm going to continue taking them. I learned long, long ago not to argue with healers. One of my dear friends growing up was a priest, his name was Brady, and if you refused to stay still for a healing he'd whack you upside the head with the staff until you agreed to stay put. All whilst usually calling you a 'lousy bastard' and 'goddamn masochistic son of a bitch' in between whacks.”

“Sounds like Elise without the curse words.” Xander joked.

“I do often think that the two of them would get along. Brady was frightening to look at but he was very sweet deep down. He enjoyed tea parties and the violin. In fact, after the war he became a world-renowned violin player in our homeland. He was incredible.” Laslow smiled. “I do miss my friends sometimes, and my family. But... Nohr is my home now. I wouldn't dare leave it.”

A sinister knock came to the door.

“Damn, it's Iago. Laslow, quickly, into the washroom. Camilla, come and pretend you're taking care of me.” Laslow and Camilla obeyed immediately, and Xander purposefully snorted loudly to build up enough phlegm to make himself sound ill. “Come in.” He called, coughing.

Iago opened the door. “Your father has not seen hide nor hair of you in days, Prince Xander.”

“I'm ill with the flu. See?” Xander pointed to Laslow's pills on the nightstand, along with the tea and food. “The healers have me on bed rest for the next few days.”

“I see. Shall I confirm with the healers to ensure our crown prince is getting the proper care he needs?”

“Go right ahead. I'm tired, Iago, and I've been sick for days. Go tell that to my father.”

“Of course, milord.” Iago left, closing the door. As soon as it was shut, Camilla enchanted a note to fly out the window and down into the healer's ward, warning them of Xander's lie. The healers now had their instructions to confirm Xander's diagnosis and shoo Iago away, and to burn the note so Iago never finds it. Laslow came out of the washroom.

“Is it... perhaps... any form of treason to mention that I hate him?” Laslow asked tentatively.

“We hate him too.” Camilla and Xander said in unison.

“Okay, good. I didn't want to be the only one.”

“Oh, no, he's very slimy.” Xander said.

“He just has that face,” Camilla said, “That face that screams 'evil'. But what can we do? He's Father's retainer, and his high council. There's nothing any Nohrian can do to touch him.”

Laslow thought for a moment. “How powerful is Iago's magic?”

“Extremely, and he's a staff user as well.” Xander said. “Why?”

“Simple curiosity, I assure you. I haven't the chance to study the man. He does remind me eerily of a vicious zealot I once fought. Name of Validar. He was an assassin that seized power and became a monster. He had powerful magic on his side too, but we won the day in the end. It took a lot of hardship and sacrifice but we made it out alive in the end. Perhaps, I was thinking, we'll see the new dawn here too.” Laslow said, clambering back into bed with a yawn. He took his second dose of pills and drank the tea Camilla handed him.

Xander's expression softened. “You always have such hope in your voice.”

“Men are killed every day, milord, but hope will never die. And I may be just a man, but I will challenge my fate at every turn, and I can only hope my sins are forgiven in the end.” Laslow looked wistful, with a serene smile on his lips. “That's what my sister used to preach, and I have never doubted her. My sister was.... so very strong. I envied her sometimes. She took life by the horns and fought every day to ensure the rest of us would live. And we lost so many, but our friends survived to see the end. There was Brady, and Noire, and Yarne, and Cynthia.... Kjelle and even Gerome, that masked bastard... I do miss them all terribly, but Nohr is my home.” He assured.

Xander reached over and ran his hands through Laslow's hair. It was sweaty from his previous fever, but if Xander minded, he didn't show it. “Why Nohr, of all places?”

“You know, I don't know. Perhaps I felt a kinship when I looked upon this castle. Perhaps it's fate. I couldn't tell you for sure. But I know that now that I'm here... I'll be by your side until my dying breath, my prince. This I swear. And if I never go home....? Well, I'm sure I could live a happy life without my friends.” Laslow drank another cup of tea and laid down flat, staring at the ceiling.

“Your sister sounds like some sort of warrior princess.” Xander joked.

“See, the funny thing was, she essentially was. She was our leader, and with the royal family dead as doornails, we all sort of elected her to be our leader. In a sense, she was the new Queen to us. But she never wanted to be treated like royalty. She was just Lucy, and she fought like Lucy. And Lucy fought like a demon. I know I never wanted to be on opposite ends with her. I remember I once tried to cut up an apple with her sword, the sword she got from Father upon his death. She damn near killed me, it was hilarious in retrospect.” Laslow's smile grew. “She had so much to live for, and she didn't waste a single second. We challenged our fates and won.”

Xander continued to run his fingers through Laslow's hair. “I wish I could take you back if only for a moment, just to meet all these wonderful people you talk about.”

“It was a wasteland, milord. You wouldn't enjoy it there.”

“Perhaps I'd like to be the judge of that for myself.”

“Milord, I do not often beg for my viewpoint to be seen. But I am begging you not to make me go back there.”

“Point taken. I won't bring it up again. But didn't you tell me you wished I could go, if only to see why you left?”

“I was delirious with fever. You found me singing old tavern songs to myself. I wasn't exactly in my sound mind, milord.”

“What's so bad about your homeland that you don't want to go back?”

“Have you perhaps read the biblical depiction of Hell, milord?”

“Fire and brimstone, the screaming souls of the damned?”

“Well, that's my homeland, or what's left of it after the war.”

“......Oh.”

“Mm.”

Xander fell quiet and Camilla winced.

“Well, that's quite enough about me.” Laslow got up to sit closer to the fire. “Milord, you had to review those troop orders, did you not?”

“I did. I'll get to work.” Xander got up and went to his desk, pulling out the paperwork. He deliberately made a bit of a show of sitting down and beginning to work, to prove to Laslow he wouldn't bother him about his homeland again. Camilla sighed and checked Laslow's fever again, just to have something to do.

“You poor dear....” she murmured again. “I wish we could have spared you that life.”

“There was nothing you could do if you were there, milady. Have you ever fought a dragon the size of a country? Have you ever seen it open its massive maw and spew a breath of pure destruction, an exhalation of expiration so vile that it caused the very ground beneath you to blight and fail? It took down buildings, it was this angry God above us, picking us off like rats. We were children, the youngest among us was Nah, she was only thirteen years old when the dragon struck., and she was a member of a very, very long-lived race called the Manakete. She was only 13, and she still had thousands of years left ahead of her. It was nearly impossible just to escape and survive and yet here I am, alive and well. There's nothing to be done. That world is gone, and there's nothing we could do to stop it. Please, milady.... those were dark times. We were only children. Child soldiers, because we had to be. Please. Please.”

“I'm sorry, Laslow. I didn't mean to keep prying... I just want to find this dragon and slowly remove his skin for hurting you.”

“The thought is appreciated, I assure you. But like I said... there's nothing to be done.” Laslow fell quiet. There was nothing left to be said. He picked up his teacup instead.

Xander flickered a page as he turned it, almost a silent plea for Camilla to stop. Camilla got the message and quieted down, but still handed Laslow his medicine and turned around to the fireplace to cook something atop the roaring flame for her brother and his retainer. “Brother, would you like some melted cow's cheese on your sandwich? I'd be ever so happy to make you something.”

“Sure, Camilla. That sounds lovely, thank you.”

“I'll make one for Laslow too.”

“Cow's cheese, really?” Laslow said with a bright smile. “I grew up with sheep's cheese, actually. Never liked it, it always tasted of dirt to me. I... Have I ever even had cow's cheese? I don't believe I have.”

“Well, this will be a special treat for you then! Cow's cheese is much better than sheep's cheese. Cow's cheese is sweeter and carries a more complex flavor, especially if you've let it age and cultured it properly. Blue cheese is wonderful, I'll use that. It's a bit sharper and more tart, but it'll pair wonderfully with the sweet bread I use for sandwiches.” Camilla got up and left the room to gather ingredients for food.

She came back a few minutes later, carrying a loaf of bread, various thinly-sliced meats, and a wheel of cow's cheese wrapped in a wax coating. She got to work grilling up sandwiches over the fire. A fireplace wasn't as good as a campfire for cooking, but it did the job. Camilla served up two plates. “I'll leave you boys alone for a while. I have a feeling I've overstayed my welcome. I'll be back tonight to ensure Laslow takes his medicine.”

“I'm perfectly capable of making sure I take my medicine on my own, milady. Not that I'm complaining, your care has been wonderful in helping my recovery. I'm not asking you to stop. I'm just saying I'm sure that if I don't remember, I'm sure Lord Xander will remind me.”

Xander grunted in acknowledgment, focused on his paperwork, and Camilla trotted out with her heels clicking on the floor. Reviewing troop orders was dull, but necessary to ensure the army had its orders and knew how to execute those orders. Right now Xander was going through the background checks of several new recruits. Two wyvern fighters, fifteen infantrymen and women, and a single falicorn rider. “The Dark Falcon brigade has been getting less and less recruits as of late...” He murmured. “Why?”

“Likely because falicorns remind them of pegasi and nobody in Nohr wants to be a pegasus rider. They all want to carry arms or be a wyvern knight.” Laslow said.

“That could be true. Still, they do trickle in slowly from time to time. I have an order here for one who just joined, apparently her background check states she's always wanted to be a falicorn rider for the army.”

“I hope she does well, it seems like a noble goal.” Laslow looked over Xander's shoulder at the page. “Interesting, it doesn't state her country of origin.”

“Well, if my track record with unknown mysterious folk from other countries is anything to look at, I think she'll do fine.” Xander replied.

“This is true. After all, trusting a mysterious stranger from another land is the entire reason I'm currently sniffling away in your bedchamber in your bed.”

“I trust you with my life, Laslow, and that's not something I take lightly. I know you, I trust you, I've seen you at your best and your worst and I know how capable you are. You're a drunken lout sometimes, a flirt, you've got more blood in your cock than your brain half the time, but you're efficient, on time, always prepared, and always ready, and your smile, I'll admit, keeps me sane out there on the battlefield. It's when you're not smiling that I know something has gone wrong. You frowning on the battlefield? It sets off my retreat response, because when you frown, it means it's not a good situation. Do you understand?”

“I think so. I have my faults, but I'm also needed and cared for, yes?”

“Precisely. I need you, Laslow, in working condition. I care about your safety and wellbeing. That's why I have you here, in my own personal chambers, rather than stay distant and let you recover on your own. Perhaps call me overprotective, but I lost two retainers once before. I don't want to repeat the experience. Losing you to something like this... it made my stomach turn, last night. My heart was breaking, seeing you sweating and glassy-eyed and unresponsive like that. It frightened me, Laslow, to see you like that.”

“My dear lord, I never meant to frighten you.”

“No, I know you didn't, and that's why it was so frightening. You didn't even know what was happening to you. But I did, and I stood there paralyzed with fear, believing I was losing you. Laslow... I.... I care about you. So much. You keep me from going mad in this world. And I thought I would have to deliver your body back home, and face the shame and wrath both from myself, and whoever it was that came to claim your body. And I would have to explain to that person that you caught pneumonia while out doing my errands in the snow. And perhaps they would forgive me. But I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.”

Laslow tilted his head. “Milord, put down the quill for a moment and come down here, just for a moment?”

Xander did so, putting the quill back into the inkwell and bending down in his seat, only to be dragged into a tight hug.

“Milord, I promise I'm not going anywhere. I'm too attached to my flesh to die, and too fearful of breaking your heart to leave. I will be here to protect and serve you for the rest of my days, until my dying breath.” Laslow vowed, pulling Xander closer. Xander's arms came up around Laslow's waist, and the two stayed there for a long, poignant moment. Xander pulled away for just a moment, and cupped Laslow's cheeks with his hands.

“Thank you, my friend. Now. How are you feeling?”

“After that lovely lunch Lady Camilla made, I'm feeling right as rain. I might even be able to get some training in or start moving about a bit more. I'm almost at the home stretch there, milord. I'm going to make it just fine.”

Xander finally dropped his hands, satisfied with that answer. “Thank you, Laslow. Thank you.”

The next day, Laslow was able to get up and start working the soreness from his limbs. Wearing the mask the healers gave him to protect his throat from the biting cold and prevent him from getting sick again, they made their way to the training grounds. Luckily, Leo had installed a magical field that kept the grounds in working condition despite the weather. Xander supervised Laslow to ensure he was doing better. Laslow was a bit sore and stiff, but his movements were good, and his speed was up to snuff. Laslow had always been very quick on his feet. It was almost a dance, the way Laslow fought. Weaving in and out of an enemy's range while striking them little by little... it wasn't a terribly efficient way to kill a man, but it was enough. Laslow had an immense amount of skill, likely honed over most of his tormented lifetime. Even through the thick utilitarian-style mask, Xander could see Laslow was smiling, glad to be back out in the world. It must have felt like a small exile to him, locked up in Xander's bedroom.

Laslow's quick motions with his sword were just as fluid as ever, his wrist rotating smoothly to deliver the killing blow to the training dummy set up in front of him. With a mighty snicker-snack, the dummy's head came rolling off, chopped cleanly at its wooden neck. “I think I'm all right, milord!” Laslow announced cheerfully, if slightly muffled. Suddenly, a loud cry and a crash came from behind them. They looked over to find a poor Dark Falcon crashed into a tree, her falicorn bucking and rearing angrily on the ground below.

“Oooooohhh.... perhaps I should help her.” Laslow stepped forward and helped get the distressed girl down from the tree. “There we are, lovely. Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah... I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm still very new to this.” The girl replied, slightly muffled through her crooked helmet. She adjusted the helmet on her head. Xander went over to calm down the spooked falicorn, and soon had it under control.

“That's understandable, lass.” Laslow chuckled. “Come on, let's get you back to the brigade.”

Laslow gently took the girl back, and she was so grateful for his help that she gave him a hug and a little nervous giggle at one of his terrible pick-up lines. She tottered away with the falicorn under control, and Laslow went trotting back, clearly smug.

“Oh, don't look at me like that.” Xander grumbled. “She's new, she doesn't know you yet.”

“Ah, but yes, I made her laugh. And then she'll fall madly in love with me, you'll see.”

“You currently have pneumonia and you're still thinking with your cock instead of your brains. You never even saw her face. Come on, back inside, Laslow. Best not to keep you outdoors too long, or you'll end up in my bedchambers for another week. Three more days and the healers said you can go back into your own quarters.” Xander swept Laslow back inside and into bed before the healers found out.

Laslow took the mask off and took a deep breath. “You know, milord... once I'm recovered and the winds die down, I think I spotted a frozen lake from the training grounds. Would you happen to know how to ice skate?”

“No, Laslow. I do not, why, did you want to go?”

“Can we, milord? I'll wear this mask, I'll take an extra dose of that awful medicine. Please? I haven't been ice skating in so long, and it'll be good to get us both outdoors and moving.”

“You make a good point, Laslow. I'll see what I can do. Let's see how you're feeling in the morning.”

“Oh, thank you, milord, thank you! I'll even teach you, it'll be lovely, I promise.”

They found themselves on that frozen lakeside the next day, Laslow still wearing his protective mask. He'd somehow managed to get a hold of a pair of ice skates that would fit Xander. Xander seemed both impressed and horrified.

“How did you get these while in bedrest in my chambers?”

“Milord. Honestly. I used Niles, he's everywhere.” Laslow replied matter-of-factly. “I had him smuggle in a pair late last night after you'd gone to sleep. You honestly sleep like the dead, milord, it's actually rather impressive. Now come on, let me teach you some basics.”

Xander found himself even struggling to keep upright on skates, clinging to Laslow's arms desperately to avoid falling flat on his nose on the frozen lake. Laslow simply chuckled. “Milord, you're carrying too much weight in your shoulders. You need to drop your center of gravity. About crotch-level. That'll keep you more grounded. Bend your knees, like this.” And Laslow gently showed him how to crouch and stay more stable. “That's it. Spread your legs a little wider, distribute your weight more evenly-- there we go. You've got it, milord.” Soon Xander was tottering about on his own like a child learning to walk, and Laslow found it terribly adorable how his liege was struggling.

“Let's see how you do, then.” Xander huffed eventually. “Show me something.”

“O-oh, I-- I couldn't, milord, really, I--” Suddenly Laslow was very uncomfortable. “It's true, I have a background in music and dancing but... I'm not really comfortable with people watching....”

“You were the one who dragged me out here at an unholy hour of the morning. I think I deserve something for my patience.” Xander said, pouting. Huffing, really, that he had to totter about like a child while Laslow seemed to have it so easy.

“Oh.... alright, but.... please, I'm not as good as you might think. I'll never match up to my mother's skill....” Laslow agreed, albeit reluctantly. He sat Xander down on a log frozen into the lake, and began to dance around. There was no music, but it was mesmerizing all the same. Laslow flipped and spun in the air, landed perfectly on his feet, and swirled like some sort of ethereal ice nymph, his body flexible in ways Xander hadn't even known were possible. He seemed so perfectly balanced, and his dancing had nuance and intricacies so minute it was impossible to see if one wasn't looking for it.

Xander was hooked immediately through the chest, his heartstrings twanging in his ribcage like a drumline to a frenzied dance. And Laslow finished beautifully, in a final pose of effortless strength and life.

“How was that?” Laslow asked, tentative and nervous.

Xander simply nodded at first, before he found his voice. “That was... phenomenal. You have so, so much potential, and so much skill. Why not pursue this? Why not make this your career, instead of a mercenary?”

“Honestly, milord, I was always better at fighting than dancing. It was how I grew up and how I live now. I enjoy my job, you know I do. You're a wonderful man to work for. You care for us and give us as many accommodations as anyone could ask for. Besides... like I said, I'll never match my mother's skill. I'll never reinvigorate troops or captivate hearts. I'm... just me. And that's all I can be. I hope you understand, milord. I'm not comfortable dancing where people can see me.”

“But you.... were so beautiful.”

“Flattering, milord, and thank you, but that was but childish flailing compared to my mother. I... I'll never be that good. I'm content with shaking my hips for the ladies but I don't see dancing as a career path in my future, milord.”

“Every move was so fluid and strong... it was like watching music come to life in front of me.”

“Again, milord, you're very kind. But please.... you're embarrassing me.”

Xander thought for a moment. “Teach me how to dance as you do.”

“Excuse me???”

“Need I repeat myself? I want to learn. I want to experience music the same way you do. Please. Teach me how to dance.”

“Am I to understand that the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Nohr does not know how to dance?” Laslow asked incredulously.

“See, my father cared more about military strength than diplomacy. There was no need for me to learn when I was young.” Xander grumbled.

“Ah, true. Mine was a diplomat himself, not a particularly eloquent one, but he got his point across all the same.” Laslow replied. “Sure. I'll teach you, milord, but you have to promise it'll be just you and me. I... I would be too scared to dance in front of your family.”

“I'll respect that.” Xander replied.

“Well, if we're sharing talents... shall I sing as well? I can do that.”

“Can you?”

“Well, of course. As well as a dancer, my mother had the most angelic voice. I'll sing something she used to sing around the house. I never really understood it, but it struck me in my memory all the same.” Laslow sat beside Xander on the log and thought for a moment.

“A man walks down the street, he says 'why am I soft in the middle now? Why am I soft in the middle when the rest of my life is so hard? I need an opportunity, I need a shot at redemption, I don't want to end up as the dead in an old-school graveyard, bonedigger, bonedigger, dogs in the moonlight, far away, my well-lit door. Mister beerbelly, beerbelly, get these mutts away from me, you know, I don't find this stuff amusing anymore.' And if you'd be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal, and if I can call you Betty, then Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al....”

Laslow interspersed his singing with bouts of melodic whistling and tapping the log with his hands to simulate a drum beat. Xander found himself actually singing along, in a voice he hadn't known he possessed. It was... fun, listening to Laslow sing. Xander had forgotten entirely what fun felt like. And just like Elise wanting to play constantly, Xander found himself unwilling to stop. He found that the longer Laslow sang and danced, the more Xander could sit here on this freezing log and listen and watch him, all day long.

Laslow looked wistful as he looked into the midday sky. The sky was clear, and the storm was over. The sun shone through the scant clouds. “They say the sun never rises in Nohr.” He said, looking sweetly into the blue sky. “They were truly wrong. The sun does shine here... and it reminds me so much of the sun shimmering over my homeland. It's beautiful out here. Would that I could sit here and watch the sky forever.”

“We should get back before we're missed.”

“I'm sure that slimy Iago will come looking for us either way. Let's get back to learning. You're never going to get any better unless you practice.” Laslow hopped off the log and offered his hands, and Xander hopped down to catch them and hold steady.

By the time Iago found them, Xander was skating more or less at a beginner's level, on his own but very unsteady.

“I thought you were ill, my prince.”

Xander slipped and fell. “I was, two days ago when you bothered me. I've since recovered.”

Laslow couldn't slip away this time. Iago's sinister gaze locked on him. “And what need of you for a retainer, out here by yourself, my prince?”

“Laslow is teaching me. I thought a new skill set was required to round out my experience as Prince, and I asked Laslow to teach me. He agreed, of course, and we came out here early this morning. Are you interrogating me on my leisure practices now?” Xander sounded unhappy.

“Of course not, my Prince. It's just, your father was ever so concerned with his eldest son's health, you see. His Majesty bid me come find you and wish you well.”

Laslow bit down hard on his tongue to keep himself from saying what he desperately wished to. Even as he felt blood wash down his throat, he kept his mouth shut.

“Well, tell him I'm fine. And what I choose to pursue and discover is no one's business but my own.”

“Of course, my prince.” Iago dissolved into the shadows, an illusion.

“I hate him.” Laslow spat, blood trailing from his lips. “Oh, Gods above, I hate him!”

“I do too. Did you injure yourself? Your mouth is bleeding.”

“I bit my tongue, quite literally. I would have called him some choice names, had I not.” Laslow spat out more blood, which froze immediately to the surface of the lake. “Shall we continue?”

“We should go back. I'm getting rather hungry and there's no lunch out here.” Xander said, tottering back to the lakeside to switch boots.

“Alright, if you insist. You were doing quite well, milord. I'm impressed. You're already getting there quickly. Most children who learn fall down a lot more than that.” Laslow slid over easily and switched his boots back as well. They walked back to the castle together.

“I'm very glad to see you're recovering so well, Laslow.” Xander said.

“I'm glad to be recovering, milord, truly. Being ill is miserable, it's like being locked in a cage of your own bed for a week. Except in this case it was your bed. Not that spending time with you is a bad thing, because it isn't, but sometimes I can only take my luxuries in moderation.”

“I can understand that. I know I can be difficult to sleep with. Leo and I shared a bedroom as children, he can attest to that.”

“May I be blunt, milord?”

“You may.”

“You snore and if I have to take another knee to the kidney at 2am I may just defect to Hoshido.” Laslow deadpanned, and Xander snorted and almost dropped his skates on his foot. “I don't mean literally. But I perhaps would write you a strongly-worded letter.” Laslow finished.

“The point is taken, Laslow. I'll let you sleep in your own chambers tonight, under the condition that you report to me when you've taken your medication and alert me immediately if your fever returns, understand?”

“Absolutely, milord. Consider it done. It's quite a fair deal.” Laslow replied with a bright smile that made Xander's heart stop in his chest for a moment. Laslow looked up at him with shining eyes, a bright smile, with his cheeks and nose tinted red by the cold, and in that moment Xander couldn't imagine a single moment without this man by his side. If Laslow left or died.... Xander would truly be broken, for all time.

“.....Excellent.”

“Is something the matter, milord? You look quite flushed. Ohhhh, no, did you catch my pneumonia? Oh gods above, I knew it would spread, keeping me cooped up with you... I'll fetch a healer--”

“No. I'm not ill.... it's nothing, I'm fine. At ease, Laslow.”

Laslow stopped fretting, and simply looked up at him with concern in his eyes. “Perhaps you just need to eat, milord. Physical exercise can deplete your body of vital nutrients. Come on, let's get you fed, milord.”

Peri was at lunch, and she perked up upon seeing Xander and Laslow enter. “Milooooord! Peri has been so worried! Lady Camilla won't let Peri in!”

“At ease, Peri. Laslow has been ill. I've simply had him quarantined for a few days, that's all. You can relax. As you can see, he's fine now.”

“Oh, good. Peri was worried someone had hurt Lazzy. Then Peri was gonna find them and stab them real good!” Peri sunk her knife into her slab of meat she was currently eating with a sickening wet thud of steel into seared, seasoned flesh.

“No stabbing required, Peri. Really.” Laslow said. “I'm alright. Just a bit of a cold, it's alright. See? Still got all my limbs, I'm alright.”

“Good. Good. Don't go away like that again.” Peri warned, pouting. “And you gotta help Peri make cookies on Saturday.”

“I can do that, Peri.”

Peri seemed satisfied with that answer, and continued eating, humming merrily to herself as she took big bites of meat, still rare and leaking juice from the inside. Laslow gathered lunch for Xander before himself, and Xander thanked him accordingly.

Laslow took the opportunity to watch Xander quietly. The man was so elegant, even when eating. He seemed poised at all times, but Laslow knew he was still the man who had held him when he was delirious with fever, who took care of him and let him tell his stories and his tales. Laslow couldn't imagine anything better. Sure, being ill was miserable, but Xander cared. He looked after him, doted on him... it felt like someone was finally actually invested in his happiness and comfort, after all these years. He had protected him from Iago's slithering, persistent questions.

And Gods, he was beautiful. Golden curls hung around his shoulders neatly, wine-red eyes that appeared as garnets in the moonlight, shimmering and wild, with his circlet neatly on his head, perfect as always. But Laslow had seen him red-eyed with sleep deprivation, bored stiff by his work, and looking at him with admiration and awe in his eyes back on the lake. Laslow had seen Xander's stunned expression as Laslow performed a quadruple flip and landed perfectly intact.

And somehow, Xander knew that. His eyes rose, and Laslow's shot down, pretending to be interested in his meal. Xander noticed, but said nothing.

Laslow went back to Xander's bedchambers with him to collect his things, including a small bag of clothes collected over four days, Laslow's medicine, teapot, and the book Xander had let him borrow. But then he looked at Xander, stoic as ever, but with a pain in his eyes.

“I'm not entirely sure I want to leave.” Laslow admitted first, softly.

“I'm not entirely sure I want you to.” Xander responded, just as gently.

“Perhaps one more night.”

“Perhaps?”

“One more. Then I'll go.” Laslow promised more to himself... and put his items back where they were on the floor where he'd left them. And then Xander crossed the floor between them.

“One more night...”

“Perhaps two, if I'm sufficiently convinced.”

“I think I can handle that.” Xander reached behind Laslow, clicked the door shut, locked it, and then their lips met. Laslow immediately melted in, feeling a swell in his chest and his spirit lifting considerably. “How's that for convincing?” Xander murmured against Laslow's lips.

“I think you can do better than that, milord.” Laslow teased softly, a smile dancing across his lips.

“I don't know, you're starting to feel a little warm. If your fever's coming back, perhaps I should put you to bed.” Xander replied. Laslow snorted.

“That was the worst pick-up line I've ever heard, and I know terrible pick up lines.” Laslow chuckled.

“Did it work, though?”

“Milord, I don't think I've ever been more attracted to another human being in my life.” Laslow answered earnestly, and the two thunked against the door as the kiss began anew, passionate and deep. Wrapped up in each other, they didn't notice the shadow peering through the window. The shadow quickly vanished, unnoticed by the men currently exploring each other's mouths against the door. A knock came to the door.

“Not now!” Xander snapped harshly through the door.

“My lord, I simply wished to inquire--” Iago's voice came from the other side.

“Leave me!” Xander almost roared, and the quick footfalls outside told him that Iago had scurried away like the slimy cockroach he was.

Laslow groaned. “Ugh, use that voice on me instead.” He asked softly, tugging at Xander's shirt in a desperate, scrambling attempt to get it off of him. Xander complied with a feral grin.

“Oh? Then perhaps I should order you to get on your knees.”

Laslow's eyes almost rolled back in their sockets with arousal, and he dropped down on command to pull at the belt keeping Xander's trousers painfully on. Xander pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side before helping a frantic Laslow get his belt off.

As soon as his cock was freed, Laslow had it in his hot, slick mouth, sucking it down as though it were his job, and Xander's knees felt weak as pleasure washed over him. Gods above, it had been far too long. And Laslow was very good. Xander briefly wondered where Laslow had gotten the experience in this, but decided it was better not to ask. Then his brain was fried again briefly as Laslow swallowed hard around his cock, squeezing it for just a moment, just long enough for all the synapses in Xander's brain to short-circuit and his cock to almost burst with need.

“L-Laslow... if you keep that up, I won't last. Up.” He said sharply, and Laslow was on his feet again, wrapping Xander up in his arms to kiss him again. Xander pulled him back, away from the door, and the two tumbled into bed with Xander tearing at Laslow's clothing with fiery abandon.

Laslow's cock was just as hard and starting to weep with translucent fluid. Xander sat back for a moment, admiring his flushed, panting retainer, his cock on full display beneath him. Laslow flushed harder and looked away. “S-stop staring!” He squeaked embarrassedly.

“Sorry, Laslow. I can't help it. You're beautiful.”

“S-stop it! You're such a sap.” Laslow huffed. Xander chuckled.

“I'm not allowed to admire you? All that lean strength, your long legs, your broad shoulders... I'm not allowed to find you beautiful?” Xander asked playfully, running his hands down Laslow's chest. Laslow shivered and leaned into his touch, whining with pleasure and desire. “That's what I thought.”

Xander reached down and took hold of Laslow's cock, and Laslow squeaked above him and bit his lip in an attempt to stifle his cries. Xander stroked Laslow's cock slowly, and Laslow's hips bucked to feel more.

“P-please...” Laslow breathed. “More?”

“I'll give you all you could desire, Laslow.”

Xander waved a hand, and a shimmering mirror-like wall shot up to block the door.

“Why, Milord Xander, is that a Silence field? I thought only staff users were able to use that kind of magic.” Laslow asked.

“I don't need Iago bothering us again.” Xander said simply. “I was trained in all manner of magic as a child. I just don't use it often as an adult.”

“That's amazing. So no one outside can hear us?”

“Not a soul.”

“Ohhhh, good.” Laslow grinned, and Xander decided on pressing two of his fingers into Laslow's waiting mouth, where Laslow lavished his tongue across them and got them good and wet. He even nipped at Xander's forefinger teasingly, not enough to hurt but enough to make him jump and make his cock twitch in anticipation.

Xander used those slick fingers to press into Laslow's body, and Laslow immediately cried out and clenched around him. Xander quickly pulled one finger back out.

“Too much?”

“Just a t-touch.... ouch.”

“Laslow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“No, it's fine. Really. I think we just need a better lube besides saliva.” Laslow said, relaxing again.

“I think I have something. I must, somewhere.” Xander began digging through his side table drawer for anything. He came up with a tube of lube, mostly full. Xander didn't indulge himself often. “I knew I had some. Here, let's try this now.”

Xander slicked up his fingers properly and entered Laslow again, more slowly this time. This time, Laslow sighed in pleasure and opened his legs a little wider. “There we are.” Xander murmured soothingly.

“Yes, m-much better... mmm....”

“How about a little more?” Xander rocked his fingers and curled them just right, and Laslow nearly shot straight upright as fire suddenly spread up his spine and cooked his brain as he let out the neediest, most horribly attractive cry Xander had ever heard.

“R-right there!” Laslow begged breathily, and Xander obeyed, pressing his fingers into Laslow again and again. Laslow shivered and bucked his hips to match the rhythm. “P-please, Lord Xander, take me....” He asked, pleaded really.

“No titles in bed, Laslow. I don't want to be Lord Xander here. Please.”

“....Your wish is my command... Xander.”

“Excellent.” Xander took up the bottle of lube again and slicked up his cock almost excessively. He wasn't about to hurt Laslow again. Slowly, so slowly, he pressed in, feeling Laslow's walls open up around him, squeezing him so tightly it felt like he would burst. Just as slowly, he began to move, and Laslow's legs lifted and hooked around Xander's waist.

The rhythm didn't stay slow and gentle for long, rapidly getting faster and more needy as pleasure washed over them both. Soon, Laslow was crying out Xander's name as he came. Laslow's orgasm, complete with the twitching and clenching of his hole, sent Xander over the edge and he cried out with his orgasm as well.

The two laid there, naked and satiated, panting to catch their breath and dripping with sweat and fluids.

“Mmph... we are filthy.” Laslow commented idly.

“How's that for convincing you to stay?” Xander murmured with a smile.

“I am feeling sufficiently convinced, milord-- Xander.”

“Good. Let's get bathed and changed and I'll call someone to bring us dinner.”

“Xander.... I--” Laslow sat up. “This... isn't a one-time thing, right?”

Xander blinked. “Of course not. Why, did you think it was?”

“No. I was hoping it wasn't.”

“Laslow, I've very recently come to discover how much I care about you. How utterly shattered I would be if you weren't by my side. I love you. And I love you too much to push you away.”

Laslow smiled. “I love you too... and I'm proud to be by your side. Forever and ever... I'll be here.”

The Silence field went down, and they laid together for some time.

“Laslow, someday, I do wish to visit your world. I know you begged me not to, but I want to know the land that put you by my side.”

“Oh, milord... I love you too much to subject you to that wasteland. But if it'll make you happy, I'll see what I can do.”

Xander's smile brightened. “It would make me the happiest man in Nohr.”

“Then I'll try to see to it. For now, I need some rest. And those awful pills, I'm supposed to keep taking them...” Laslow reached for the pills, and the two settled into a comfortable, cuddly silence.

The snow outside was beginning to melt, and the sun shone through the clouds. A new dawn in Nohr, and Xander had never been happier. Laslow smiled as he rested comfortably in Xander's arms, and soon Xander drifted into a daytime nap as well. All was well.

[artificialqueens]

Shea's Shitty Sickness (Sashea) - :/

Hello everybody! I have arrived with a Sashea for all of you thirsty anons who needed one! It isn’t smut but it IS a sickfic, because I couldn’t write smut if Shea’s AS3 crown depended on it. They both start with an S though so there is practically no difference! Have fun with this one y'all, I had a blast writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Summary: Shea gets sick. That is it, it is angsty and fluffy! Enjoy!

Shea woke up early in the morning with a flaming headache and a throbbing throat. She tiredly looked at the still sleeping figure that lay next to her. Shea thought Sasha looked positively adorable when she slept, only giving her more reasons to love her. She uncovered herself from the sweaty sheets, reminding herself that she would have to take care of that later.

After making the decision to push past her raging headache, she sat up a tad bit too fast, a wave of dizziness and nausea rushing to her all at once. She just barely managed to rush to the bathroom before hurling up last night’s dinner into the once clean toilet. Shea dry-heaved a few times before confirming that nothing else was going to come up.

She wiped her mouth on a paper towel and flushed the toilet, grabbing some cleaning supplies to make it look and smell like nothing had happened. She slowly left the room and went downstairs, searching through their cluttered medicine cabinet for one of the ten bottles of Advil that they had. Once she managed to grasp one she popped a couple of pills out and swallowed them, washing them down with water.

She looked at the calendar and cursed herself when she saw she had a show today, she really didn’t want to do it in this state. Nevertheless, she had fans to please, and the day when she lets them down is the day Raven wins a season of drag race. She went back upstairs and into her shared room, Sasha still sleeping soundly. She grabbed some day clothes and went to their bathroom to go change.

She looked over herself to make sure she didn’t look too sick because if Sasha found out that she wasn’t on top of the world, she would instantly go into mother hen mode and not let Shea do anything more than use the restroom. She grabbed the thermometer they keep inside the bathroom mirror and did the standard stick under the mouth shtick. When the annoying contraption beeped she looked at the bright green numbers that flashed on the screen.

“101.6 eh? Well, at least it could be worse.” Shea thought to herself, rinsing the end of the thermometer off and putting it back. She washed her face off to look at least a bit more normal. When she left, she saw that Sasha was already up and about, already being changed out of her pajamas. She looked over at Shea and a smile instantly adorned her face as she strolled over and hugged. well more like squeezed, the sick queen.

“Morning Shea, how did you sleep last night?” Sasha inquired, and Shea was silently relieved that the brainy queen didn’t kiss her, she didn’t want Sasha getting whatever bug she unfortunately grabbed.

“Like a log, and you?” Shea subtly pushed Sasha, and she thanked whatever god is out there that she didn’t catch onto what Shea was pulling.

“I slept great too. Oh, yea, I am going to go downstairs and make some coffee, you want a cup?” Sasha had one foot already out of the door when she asked, making this question.

“No thanks, I am not really tired.” That was a flat out lie, but in reality, the sound of coffee made her gag, her damn cold getting in the way of not being tired.

“That’s odd, you never say no to coffee, are you alright?” Sasha backtracked and looked at Shea, a mix of worry and disbelief actively present on her face. She took a few steps towards Shea before she quickly tried to dispute her worry.

“Sasha I am fine! I am just not in the mood for coffee this morning, now you go down and wake yourself up gorl, though I am not sure that you need it very much.”

Sasha let out her signature laugh that Shea fell in love with, though Shea still caught a trace of worry, and went downstairs to make a cup of coffee and maybe even breakfast. Shea sighed and plopped down on the bed, the sickness being as annoying as that one prick in class who never shuts the fuck up ever, even during a test.

The day passed on as normal, Shea being able to mask her illness from Sasha long enough to reach the night of her performance. She wasn’t doing anything abnormal that night, it was just supposed to be a normal performance with a normal meet and greet. But of course, luck was just not on Shea’s side that night.

Sasha accompanied her to the nightclub she was performing too, seeing as she was also booked there and it would be silly not to show up. While the nightclub was being set up for the night, Sasha and Shea were busy getting beat for the gods. Shea felt the fever slowly edging back, and checked her bag for a bottle of Advil. Seeing that it wasn’t there, Shea let out another long, yet quiet, sigh. Of course she would leave a bottle of Advil at home, she only has like, 10 of them.

An hour or two later, the fans had piled in and the performances were about to start. Sasha went first, walking on the stage and lip-syncing to Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” She killed it as always, absolutely no surprise there, and then it was Shea’s turn to perform.

She felt quite dizzy walking out onto that stage, but she knew it wasn’t nerves. She started off super strong, lip-syncing to “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga. During the middle of the performance, however, little black dots began to eat away at the edges of her vision. She tried to shake it off and stay in character, but she just couldn’t hold it off. Shea felt her knees buckle, and the last thing she heard before she blacked out were the fan’s shocked screams, and somebody running towards her.

When Shea woke up again, she was oddly enough back in her own bed, a cold washcloth laid on her head, the blankets pulled up all the way to her chin, and a very worried Sasha Velour sitting right next to her. When Sasha noticed she was awake, she instantly started on a worried rant.

“What were you thinking Shea! You probably knew you were sick and you still went on that stage to perform! You should have told me, or anybody at the club! We wouldn’t have made you perform if we knew you weren’t feeling well! And-”

Somewhere during the middle of this rant, Sasha got up and started pacing around the room, her hands tightly grasping the other. Shea smiled at this sight, Sasha always got so worried about everything, and Shea loved that about her. Scratch that, Shea loves absolutely everything about Sasha, her bald head, her deep voice, her ability to care so greatly about everything, and every other obscure detail that any other person would miss completely.

“-Your fever was at 103.2 when you went on stage! What made you think that it was ok to perform under those conditions?” Shea completely spaced out while thinking about Sasha, so that last bit definitely snapped her back into reality.

“My fever was at 103? Shit, last I checked it was only 101.” Shea finally spoke, her voice surprisingly raspy. Sasha looked over at Shea with a look of utmost anger, yet it wasn’t an angry anger, it was more of a concern anger.

“You KNEW? You actively knew you weren’t feeling well and you still went up? Did you know how worried I was? Do you know how terrifying it is to see the person you love collapse on stage?” Sasha looked at Shea with a look of sadness, and Shea instantly felt a wave of regret.

“Sasha, I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just couldn’t let our fans down.” Sasha stared at Shea for a few moments after, thinking about what she was going to say.

“I forgive you, just don’t do that again, please. Your health is more important than your fans, and they will completely understand if you can’t perform.”

“Of course, I promise you that this situa-” Shea was suddenly cut off by a fit of coughs, she was practically hacking her lungs out. Sasha sat Shea up so it was a bit easier for her to get everything out.

“Great, now that this is settled, we are going to snuggle. Before you cut me off, yes, I know full well the risks, but those are risks I am more than willing to take. Now scoot over bitch.” Sasha slipped next to Shea, nestling up to her. Not strong enough to protest, Shea drifted back off to sleep. Sasha watched Shea’s chest rise and fall, taking her turn to be completely enamored by the gorgeous human being lying next to her. Sasha happily drifted off to sleep, cuddled up next to the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

[timclymer]

Breast Cancer and Battlestar Galactica

In October of last year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and rushed into surgery three days later. Thus began a journey that would change my perceptions of what’s important, and the strange realization that life is a fragile miracle not to be taken for granted. It made me more determined to hang on to life, something I saw on a science fiction show called Battlestar Galactica.

President Laura Roslin is a character on the show, who’s steely resolve to deal with a larger catastrophe comes partially from her private battle with breast cancer. When faced with the eventuality of her demise, many things she used to be afraid of seem suddenly trivial. It was what allowed this reserved, 43rd in line for the presidency, schoolteacher to step into the role of President of the Colonies with hardly a shiver after they are attacked by merciless machine creatures and their homeworlds are destroyed.

The story revolves around taking control of your life, on both a personal and larger level and it came along during a period when I felt completely out of control. This science fiction epic has seen me through to the cancer survivor I am today. It’s so very much about taking control, but also taking time for yourself, taking care of yourself and the consequences of ignoring your body and spirit in pursuit of success, money and power. Roslin, prior to be diagnosed, was a workaholic. Her transformation is startling, as is anyone’s who realizes they are mortal and their time on this plain is finite.

How The Idea of Breast Cancer, Science Fiction & Battlestar Galactica combined into a website, writing, blogging and a really fun hobby… Breast cancer and Battlestar Galactica caught me totally off-guard and sealed my allegiance to this complex science fiction television show. The fact that the President of the Colonies had cancer on a SciFi show was an odd combination to propose, but Ron Moore put it out there and thus into our reality. President Laura Roslin is diagnosed early on in the series with the deadly disease, and told that her options are few and her chances slim to none. In the midst of this personal tragedy, she is thrust into an immediate fight for her life and has to assume the mantel of presidency while keeping secret her other silent enemy. Publicly, she works with Commander Adama for the betterment of humanity as they flee Caprica; privately, she battles the betrayal of her body as the cancer spreads. She has to be devastated, but like many of us, she rises to the immediate challenge – getting the remains of civilization to safety – fighting privately with her fears and demons.

Three operations and too many frakkin cancer treatments later, I have emerged a breast cancer survivor and a woman acutely aware of how little time God gives us. The oncologist shook my hand a couple weeks ago, bid me good luck and told me to make an appointment for 30 days out, three months out and so forth. She handed me a prescription for hormonal therapy pills, a number to call if I got upset and a business card if I had any questions. I was burned, in pain, peeling, wearing a wig, and recovering. Life was supposed to continue on as usual, right? I felt like I’d been beat up by a bunch of Cylons. I wasn’t the same person who went to the doctor in October, so that was impossible? I think this is the same with anybody who’s survived a life-threatening illness.

What you do with that change is what makes the difference in your world. Roslin has taken on leading the people to Earth as her personal quest while stealing a few moments of private time and holding the political structure together. We see bits and pieces of that with the President, in between fighting with Adama and fending off Tom Zarek – she reads, practices some form of candle therapy and seeks counsel from a spiritual person. She is also being ravaged by the medications and pain killers; and, we are left to wonder if she’s chosen the right path. She didn’t want to die like her mother; will she die anyway?

As a survivor, it’s a question I ask myself often. I’ve taken all of the advice, made a choice, survived a course of treatment. Was it enough? Will it come back and kill me in six months, a year, two years? Unlike Roslin, I caught mine earlier on. Like Roslin, I have no choice but to live my life to the fullest with whatever time I have left. Thank God, I’m not Roslin, because she has to spend the bulk of her time running from the Cylons. I just need to please my boss for eight hours and drive home. Somehow, amidst all that chaos, she manages to snatch a couple minutes for herself. And, that’s what’ it’s all about. She borrowed one of Cmdr. Adama’s books, so we can presume she spent a bit of time reading it. That’s time for herself, and that’s so extraordinarily important.

Breast Cancer and Science Fiction – Whole Again! If you’ve been where I’ve been, and maybe you’re still there, take heart and take flight. Let them do what they must to save your life, but don’t let them steal your joy. As they work on your body, take your mind to the next level, an alternative universe, a parallel dimension, to a battlestar or starship and beyond. That’s what science fiction and fantasy will do, take a person out of the doldrums and allow them to soar on the wings of imagination.

When things get rough, focus instead on your love of science fiction or whatever is your passion. Like sitting in a hot tub, it will relax you enough so that when your attention returns to the problem, it’s more manageable. While I was sick, it became breast cancer versus science fiction. I have always loved Star Trek: TOS, TNG, DS9, Voyager & Enterprise, and I rapidly got hooked on the new SciFi channel offering, Stargate Atlantis, and because they addressed something I was in the midst of fighting – breast cancer – was fascinated by Battlestar Galactica.

I lived for Friday night; they weren’t going to treat me again for two days, and Stargate and Stargate Atlantis were coming on. Then, in January 2005, the much-hyped Battlestar Galactica series joined my mix. What would happen to the President? She was dealing with it and functioning. She was still alive and so was I. When I was too sick to move, I’d watch these shows and remember what I used to adore. – writing fan fiction, reading and watching science fiction and fantasy on television and in the movies and dreaming about distant galaxies. It’s been that way since I was five. And, I realized that I had put that on the “back burner” for years as I worked and lived, that is, until I was invited into hell through cancer.

I pondered what could I do that really meant something to me. There was nothing I could do about what the treatments except think about something else. — something fun, different – something I had a passion for that would replace the misery. Without passion for a subject, any subject, life quickly becomes an endless march towards death. And, I definitely didn’t want that. I had become a work-a-holic. I suspect that Laura Roslin was one as well. I have no idea how that happened, but with that knowledge, I had the power to change it. If you see yourself in this boat, you have the power to get out before it sinks with you in it.

My new philosophy is, “Do what you need to do to sustain your existence, then live to do what you enjoy to live your life.”

Take the clarity I’d gained with breast cancer, combine it with my love of science fiction, and – presto, magic – step into a lifestyle that includes time for oneself, loads of laughter and a boatload of merriment. Unfortunately, our stalwart Battlestar president doesn’t have this luxury. She can only snatch a few minutes here and there, but she does that. If, in the middle of a run for her existence, the President in Galactica can take a few moments for herself, what’s our problem?

Science fiction fans with cancer – take heart!

I know there are many science fiction fans out there who are cancer survivors. They say you are a survivor from the moment of diagnosis. There are 10 million cancer survivors today, so you’re not alone. Even if only one other fan reads this and enjoys my website, blog or piece of fan fiction, I will have accomplished my goal. To make you laugh; make you think; encourage you to do something that’s not about making money and business, something you would work at even if you’re never got paid a cent for doing it, something to take you mind off whatever ails ya!

My passion is science fiction and fantasy and my wish is to share that with others who may be suffering and need a break.

Source by Judith Brandy

from Home Solutions Forev https://homesolutionsforev.com/breast-cancer-and-battlestar-galactica/ via Home Solutions on WordPress from Home Solutions FOREV https://homesolutionsforev.tumblr.com/post/187035442310 via Tim Clymer on Wordpress

[homesolutionsforev]

Breast Cancer and Battlestar Galactica

In October of last year, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and rushed into surgery three days later. Thus began a journey that would change my perceptions of what’s important, and the strange realization that life is a fragile miracle not to be taken for granted. It made me more determined to hang on to life, something I saw on a science fiction show called Battlestar Galactica.

President Laura Roslin is a character on the show, who’s steely resolve to deal with a larger catastrophe comes partially from her private battle with breast cancer. When faced with the eventuality of her demise, many things she used to be afraid of seem suddenly trivial. It was what allowed this reserved, 43rd in line for the presidency, schoolteacher to step into the role of President of the Colonies with hardly a shiver after they are attacked by merciless machine creatures and their homeworlds are destroyed.

The story revolves around taking control of your life, on both a personal and larger level and it came along during a period when I felt completely out of control. This science fiction epic has seen me through to the cancer survivor I am today. It’s so very much about taking control, but also taking time for yourself, taking care of yourself and the consequences of ignoring your body and spirit in pursuit of success, money and power. Roslin, prior to be diagnosed, was a workaholic. Her transformation is startling, as is anyone’s who realizes they are mortal and their time on this plain is finite.

How The Idea of Breast Cancer, Science Fiction & Battlestar Galactica combined into a website, writing, blogging and a really fun hobby… Breast cancer and Battlestar Galactica caught me totally off-guard and sealed my allegiance to this complex science fiction television show. The fact that the President of the Colonies had cancer on a SciFi show was an odd combination to propose, but Ron Moore put it out there and thus into our reality. President Laura Roslin is diagnosed early on in the series with the deadly disease, and told that her options are few and her chances slim to none. In the midst of this personal tragedy, she is thrust into an immediate fight for her life and has to assume the mantel of presidency while keeping secret her other silent enemy. Publicly, she works with Commander Adama for the betterment of humanity as they flee Caprica; privately, she battles the betrayal of her body as the cancer spreads. She has to be devastated, but like many of us, she rises to the immediate challenge – getting the remains of civilization to safety – fighting privately with her fears and demons.

Three operations and too many frakkin cancer treatments later, I have emerged a breast cancer survivor and a woman acutely aware of how little time God gives us. The oncologist shook my hand a couple weeks ago, bid me good luck and told me to make an appointment for 30 days out, three months out and so forth. She handed me a prescription for hormonal therapy pills, a number to call if I got upset and a business card if I had any questions. I was burned, in pain, peeling, wearing a wig, and recovering. Life was supposed to continue on as usual, right? I felt like I’d been beat up by a bunch of Cylons. I wasn’t the same person who went to the doctor in October, so that was impossible? I think this is the same with anybody who’s survived a life-threatening illness.

What you do with that change is what makes the difference in your world. Roslin has taken on leading the people to Earth as her personal quest while stealing a few moments of private time and holding the political structure together. We see bits and pieces of that with the President, in between fighting with Adama and fending off Tom Zarek – she reads, practices some form of candle therapy and seeks counsel from a spiritual person. She is also being ravaged by the medications and pain killers; and, we are left to wonder if she’s chosen the right path. She didn’t want to die like her mother; will she die anyway?

As a survivor, it’s a question I ask myself often. I’ve taken all of the advice, made a choice, survived a course of treatment. Was it enough? Will it come back and kill me in six months, a year, two years? Unlike Roslin, I caught mine earlier on. Like Roslin, I have no choice but to live my life to the fullest with whatever time I have left. Thank God, I’m not Roslin, because she has to spend the bulk of her time running from the Cylons. I just need to please my boss for eight hours and drive home. Somehow, amidst all that chaos, she manages to snatch a couple minutes for herself. And, that’s what’ it’s all about. She borrowed one of Cmdr. Adama’s books, so we can presume she spent a bit of time reading it. That’s time for herself, and that’s so extraordinarily important.

Breast Cancer and Science Fiction – Whole Again! If you’ve been where I’ve been, and maybe you’re still there, take heart and take flight. Let them do what they must to save your life, but don’t let them steal your joy. As they work on your body, take your mind to the next level, an alternative universe, a parallel dimension, to a battlestar or starship and beyond. That’s what science fiction and fantasy will do, take a person out of the doldrums and allow them to soar on the wings of imagination.

When things get rough, focus instead on your love of science fiction or whatever is your passion. Like sitting in a hot tub, it will relax you enough so that when your attention returns to the problem, it’s more manageable. While I was sick, it became breast cancer versus science fiction. I have always loved Star Trek: TOS, TNG, DS9, Voyager & Enterprise, and I rapidly got hooked on the new SciFi channel offering, Stargate Atlantis, and because they addressed something I was in the midst of fighting – breast cancer – was fascinated by Battlestar Galactica.

I lived for Friday night; they weren’t going to treat me again for two days, and Stargate and Stargate Atlantis were coming on. Then, in January 2005, the much-hyped Battlestar Galactica series joined my mix. What would happen to the President? She was dealing with it and functioning. She was still alive and so was I. When I was too sick to move, I’d watch these shows and remember what I used to adore. – writing fan fiction, reading and watching science fiction and fantasy on television and in the movies and dreaming about distant galaxies. It’s been that way since I was five. And, I realized that I had put that on the “back burner” for years as I worked and lived, that is, until I was invited into hell through cancer.

I pondered what could I do that really meant something to me. There was nothing I could do about what the treatments except think about something else. — something fun, different – something I had a passion for that would replace the misery. Without passion for a subject, any subject, life quickly becomes an endless march towards death. And, I definitely didn’t want that. I had become a work-a-holic. I suspect that Laura Roslin was one as well. I have no idea how that happened, but with that knowledge, I had the power to change it. If you see yourself in this boat, you have the power to get out before it sinks with you in it.

My new philosophy is, “Do what you need to do to sustain your existence, then live to do what you enjoy to live your life.”

Take the clarity I’d gained with breast cancer, combine it with my love of science fiction, and – presto, magic – step into a lifestyle that includes time for oneself, loads of laughter and a boatload of merriment. Unfortunately, our stalwart Battlestar president doesn’t have this luxury. She can only snatch a few minutes here and there, but she does that. If, in the middle of a run for her existence, the President in Galactica can take a few moments for herself, what’s our problem?

Science fiction fans with cancer – take heart!

I know there are many science fiction fans out there who are cancer survivors. They say you are a survivor from the moment of diagnosis. There are 10 million cancer survivors today, so you’re not alone. Even if only one other fan reads this and enjoys my website, blog or piece of fan fiction, I will have accomplished my goal. To make you laugh; make you think; encourage you to do something that’s not about making money and business, something you would work at even if you’re never got paid a cent for doing it, something to take you mind off whatever ails ya!

My passion is science fiction and fantasy and my wish is to share that with others who may be suffering and need a break.

Source by Judith Brandy

from Home Solutions Forev https://homesolutionsforev.com/breast-cancer-and-battlestar-galactica/ via Home Solutions on WordPress

[whyittsy-blog]

FULL DOCUMENT

 link to the original document which includes screenshots

Document titled:  WHY LEX (AKA CATASTROPHICUR) IS SUCH A CATASTROPHE

Text:

Let me first say that I did NOT want to do this and that although I’ve more than countless reasons to do a call-out post to drag someone (well-deserving of it) through the dirt, I will not because that isn’t who I am. However, I believe after all this time (precisely since Sept 5th) that I deserve to have a voice. There are plenty of you who have only been hearing one side of the story and begin to assume the situation. I’ve known Lex for a year and a half (precisely beginning March 27th, 2016).

They utilize the name catastrophicur, formerly known as moraldysplasia, whom consists of the character (or muse), Jude. I, on the other hand, played on the blog popokki and roleplayed a character named Gale. Now this is an important piece because a lot of problems derived from a media that was only meant to be and is ever meant to be utilized for entertainment. My rule of thumb is, if you aren’t having fun then something is wrong and you ought to fix it. And if it can’t be fixed, then there are ways to discontinue it by blocking/ignoring/etc. But most people are here to write, not everyone is here to make friends or something more than that. After writing with Lex for several months, we could see that there was a spark in our characters and began to ship them. Through the summertime in 2016, they had gone through treacherous occurrences dealing with a demigod, Gale being expelled from high school, Gale’s best friend/potential girlfriend went into a coma, Gale was ill with a plague, Jude and Gale ventured into the mountains to get a cure, only for Gale’s caretaker to wind up dead and his barn to be burned to smithereens by people that were after Jude, Jude disappeared for a time—and that leads me into saying that Lex had also disappeared for a time. They had left for approximately 3 months, between the time of September-December and I had patiently awaited their return without ever a single complaint. I merely understood that Lex is human and tumblr is just a medium for entertainment. So despite us having agreed that Gale and Jude were already a pairing, I did not let it affect me personally. Now, December 2016 rolled around and Gale was building bonds with another muse, Archer. Lo and behold, Lex returned with the intent to drive this new muse (Archer) apart from Gale. I didn’t think of it as a big deal because it added excitement to the roleplay, and this is just a roleplay, right? Wrong.

[screenshots referred to in this document available within the link above. Additionally, this post is rebloggable]

It’s 2017 now, me and Lex were talking frequently. And I mean on a daily basis. Lex often joked boldly, being flirty and I just laughed and played along. I personally did not know whether I was heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual, asexual, or pansexual. I’m a 25-year old woman who has never had a serious relationship with anyone because I never felt chemistry to bring me to want to be closer with someone in that way. I’ve always been focused on my career, my family, and friends.  (author note: She;s priming readers to sympathize with her even while the situation you’re about to read impacts her the least. Framing.)There was a time I didn’t even want to date because of my parents’ divorce/situation. But there were also many years where I dated around, had a single date and let the person know I was not interested within the next few days/weeks but I never made someone wait on me longer than a month. So I’m sure you can see where this is going. At the end of summer 2017, Lex is speaking freely to their family about potentially liking me – but every time Lex talks to me about it they said things like: “You might not like me”, “Once you see me, you’ll see I’m a gremlin and you won’t like me anymore”, and on voice call I clearly remember Lex saying to their family “We won’t know if we like each other until after we meet”. Now I wasn’t sure if I liked Lex either, I was curious and I reassured them that I’m not a shallow person. I wouldn’t just wind up not liking them due to appearance or something of that sort. I thought I knew their personality well enough and that would be enough for me. What I didn’t know is what my sexual orientation is and that it’s not that simple as telling myself to love someone. But I truly believed that there was potential, I truly believed that there was a spark, and I truly believed that we could perhaps one day live together. I spoke many times to one of my best friends that I’ve known since I was 12 (who doesn’t RP on tumblr), Grace, and let them know that I was thinking of this. I told them that I would be buying Lex’s ticket and they could come see me for a week so that we can really decipher if this is for us. But moreover, MOST importantly, *I didn’t want this to be all about judgement. I wanted me and Lex to have fun.* I wanted this to be a memory they could cherish and appreciate the idea of moving away from their family someday, to let them know that there’s so much more out there in this world than the one they currently live in. Why? Because every week there was always, always something wrong in their household. Whether it was the fact that Lex continues to struggle to get into college (because their mother won’t do the paperwork), because they struggled to get a job, got a job but it was through their mother and now they’ve to work with a shitty/creepy boss all the time,

( Sidenote: There are many mentions of other people throughout this but I’m going to take a minute to speak about Cami. Cami was another friend of mine that I cherished dearly and spoke with everyday. We’ve wrote since before me and Lex. We had so many great times together, I can’t even begin to count. We loved to watch movies/shows/etc together and the endless calls while I was driving were some of the best. Sadly, spring 2017 things fell apart between us. Cami had gone through a rough patch in life, in which I tried to help support them almost daily through the struggles they were going through even if it was only advice that I could provide. One day, they had said they were going to take more pills after I had said that I wasn’t feeling mentally OK to help them through what they were going through that day… and it was then, that I explained from my POV what was going on and that it was not OK for Cami to do that. It was push/pull from thereon and eventually, Cami had said she did not wish to be friends with me anymore. I said that was OK. A week or so later, Cami apologized and I was forgiving because I wanted to still be friends with them, I wanted to move past this rough patch and to go back to how things once were. But despite their apology, they let me know that it will take THEM time to mend before they can speak to me again. I was confused because… I was the one who was hurt by this. I later figured it was because they didn’t want to hurt me again, but I still found is peculiar that I would have to wait for them to get better before I could speak with them as friends again. People don’t often wait for that, people naturally move on as time goes on. But I waited, I waited three months to hear from Cami again and it wasn’t because she merely wanted to rebuild our bond… but we’ll get into that later. This screencap expresses that I wasn’t on the best terms with Cami but there were PLENTY of times when I would ask Lex, “why hasn’t Cami spoken to me again yet…? I just don’t understand…” because I truly did wish to be friends again. Anyway, moving on--)

Also they’ve a sibling that is potentially dangerous to the entire family from time to time, and the feeling of being STUCK despite being 23 years old. So yes, I took the time/effort/money into buying Lex an airplane ticket.

To tell you the truth the trip was fantastic. I always make it my mission to make it memorable and plan every day out—just as I did with Grace when she came to visit me in 2017 January. I had a lot of fun, I planned that we go see almost EVERY dog park that we could potentially go to because I know Lex’s passion for dogs. We went hiking and to lakes, we traversed/toured through MKE and really just had a great time. But there was undoubtedly that unspoken tension of whether or not we’d like one another. Unfortunately, the kind of chemistry that I was hoping to feel wasn’t there. Now yes, you’re probably thinking—“ love doesn’t happen at first sight”. I agree with that but for me, I needed some kind of pull or some kind of attraction. I didn’t know what it was and I was severely frustrated with myself. To further that notion, *I have severe anxiety (as does Lex). This however, plays into a major factor here that I am not bold and I’m very reserved, I can almost come off as shy to people who meet me in real life. I try very hard to keep so many people in my life and to keep everyone happy (not very realistic of me, I know), I do not want anyone to ever hurt especially because of me or because of simple/stupid mistakes, thus I’m careful about how I approach subjects/matters/situations. This apparently was unsettling for Lex**

once they returned on Sept 5th from visiting me. Lex returned Sept 5th and from there on, kept saying ‘something is off’.

I didn’t initially know what they meant because I figured that if we carried on, maybe JUST maybe we could continue to be friends without anything changing. It was a false hope. By the time they kept pressuring and stating day after day, something is off:

(This is potentially when Lex was already trying to get information out of me but I was just giving them solid advice/information that if they thought they could move TOMORROW, that wasn’t realistic. I had a couple relatives pass away that were close to me, I got a dog that caused us to have to move, and I am still living with my mother/supporting her. So it’s not exactly easy and so I got real with them about that in this snippet.)

(Ana was their ex-gf.)

I began to fret over the fact I didn’t feel any chemistry with them and I knew that was the reason that something was off. However, I wanted to have feelings for them but I knew I couldn’t control that, the idea of telling them that I didn’t scared me because I was afraid of losing them as a friend altogether. I was not only afraid of losing them but hurting them at all. I told myself, it was too soon to let them know what was ‘off’ when it had only been a day or two days from their visit (notice the dates in the previous screenshots). I knew if I had they would wonder to themselves ‘what did I do wrong?’, ‘was it my looks?’, ‘could I have done something different?’

Unfortunately, I admit that I let it drag on longer than I originally intended as it happened to be a week and a half from their visit. Which again, I do not believe is horrendous but it was through a bad method where I had posted a meme about myself on tumblr. A meme that expressed that I was ‘single4life, and that I didn’t like anyone romantically atm’. Now mind you, this was ONLY after Lex was beginning to say things that rubbed me the wrong way. There was mentions of Jude not liking that Gavriel (another muse of mine) was having interest in another muse, Shion played by Lettie. Mind you, Jude’s plotline did not at all align with Gavriel or Shion: (It starts out small but this begins to be a big problem in the future, where Lex starts to try to get in between Gavriel and Shion simply because they felt jealousy and were afraid of losing me.)

(But then I also noticed that Lex was implementing Jude into RPs with not only Shion in an almost aggressive approach, but Sy’s muse Myles. They claim to this day that Myles was not ill-intended but if Shion’s was ill-intended, then I still don’t know how to feel about Myles.) Below you get to see something else that rubbed me the wrong way:

Now I need to say what was going on in my daily life before I dive into the nitty gritty of the fall out of our friendship. Sept 5th was when Lex came to visit, I had 2 week off from work because I just got a new job at the American Red Cross and was going to start on Sept 11th. On the first week they had me drive 2 hours away from home and stay in a hotel with awful internet service, I lost my credit card so I had to figure out how to pay for gas/meals/etc by constantly driving out to a bank to withdraw money, I was homesick, I originally thought it was only for 2 days but they had me out there for 4 and no one actually knew what my true schedule was. Natheless, getting a career I could appreciate was a big milestone for me and as an introvert, I need alone time to recuperate/recharge my social battery but here ever since Lex got home I was spoke to them Sept 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, AND 10th. Not only was I starting my job but my childhood friend Tess, from IRL, was having her bridal shower Sept 16th. I didn’t have much money due to the gap in jobs and I wanted it to be the best for her. Tess also had her bachelorette party two weeks after that, on Sept 30th. And then her wedding weekend on October 15th. This is all important because these are weekends where I’m incredibly busy attending/focusing on people immediately in the same state as me and trying to cope with daily-life struggles. Now of course, I know Lex had IRL struggles, too, but I KNEW THIS and didn’t push them one way or another. I merely supported them as a friend.

It was when I sent them a snapshot on Sept 14th of my dogs reuniting after I had been on a work trip. I said specifically in the snap “Marley missed Gideon more than me!!” and Lex felt it was necessary to say “Don’t worry Marley, me too me too”. It was an obvious jab at me. It could have been joking, except that I expressed that it kind of hurt and even after I did that, they didn’t even care to apologize. Feeling somewhat upset over it, I regretted my latter action of posting a mun meme. Now when I posted this, I told myself that “we did not establish anything” and we didn’t. Couples verbalize when they are dating OR they make out OR they have sex multitudes of times… there has to be something to let both partners know that they are in a relationship. You can’t just assume that you’re in a relationship with someone ESPECIALLY when it was both clear before the trip that we weren’t sure if there would be any chemistry between us. Of course, I still do not agree with the fact I put it in a meme:

Now mind you, I had apologized for my actions and this does NOT measure up to the amount of things Lex does following this to intentionally hurt me. The truth of me not liking Lex unravels when they find out through the meme that I said I was single and not romantically interested in anyone on Sept 14th.

This is the entirety of the conversation:

(This screen capture shows the end of the night, leading into Sept. 17th.)

As you see here, I admitted my wrongdoings already. I admitted that I didn’t like Lex romantically but I wanted to continue being friends IF they still wanted that, too. They said that they did wish to be and so we went from there. It’d been awhile since we did anything fun together and I was hoping that we could smooth things over by doing some of the stuff we did before as friends; watching animes/shows, plotting, etc. So on Sept 17th this happened:

I want to make emphasis on the fact that here I mentioned I am not direct or bold. I would never hide from people or hide things from them. But I also WON’T TELL PEOPLE THINGS THAT DON’T INVOLVE THEM. It’s not everyone’s business to know what is going on in my life. I am not OBLIGATED to tell anyone ANYTHING unless if they are family, OR if I happened to be in a romantic relationship with them. On Sept 14th I had clearly put a meme out that I was single and not interested in anyone, Sept 17th I had clearly voiced my thoughts/feelings about Lex and from thereon, I don’t need to tell them what my sexual orientation is, or if I might try a dating app. I don’t need to tell them that I’m going to a wedding for my friend or that my sister had a baby, I don’t need to tell them anything that I don’t feel like telling. So don’t make this out like I cheated on you. Back to the timeline.

It’s clear that it was much too soon for me to be enthusiastic and hope that we could still be friends. I really did encourage that we did something together. When I was invited to a cah game, I got excited but it was all BNHA fandom… and I was really out of the loop. It was with a bunch of Lex’s fandom friends and I was awkwardly trying to get through the puns/jokes that I didn’t get just to hang out with Lex.

At this point in time, Lex went on to make a new muse – Stain. Now I knew this was to get some fresh air from Jude’s blog and I could appreciate that. Nor did I ask for them to tell me about it and I wouldn’t have minded if I had never known about it. Even to this day, I haven’t had a single interaction with their muse Stain or their other muse that’s a doctor (or something).

I do want to point out that after a certain time, Lex almost felt BLIND to my problems and only voiced their own. I gratefully took them on, trying to give advice and trying to be supportive with everything they encountered.

Around this time, Lex decidedly makes a group chat between me, Lettie, and themselves. This group chat was solely for the purpose of trying to get Jude in between Gavriel and Shion. Lex has openly admitted that in the future after I noticed something was fishy and I had genuinely stated that we should have split verses for Shion. This created an uproar from Lex. Now mind you, I had every reason to do this because . Read the following content at your own discretion and know that none of it is edited. I’m to tired for any of this and to be downright honest, this makes me think I’m in high school all over again (except it’s worse). I’ll say snippets on each portion but otherwise take what you seI also received snippets of Lex going behind my back, speaking with other people I wrote with or knew. Muhu, Lettie, Cami, and Sy. Now I hardly know Sy but the other three I knew well enough to feel uncomfortablee in for yourself. I have said to Lex before, no one is at fault. I truly believed that until their continued ill-intent was impossible to get passed and after we had our fall out where I originally blocked them for a day and they posted a call-out post of me – they then later apologized for it and said they wanted to talk it through? Well great, I unblocked them and talked it through. Even despite the crumby feeling of them going behind my back, talking shit about me to other people – going as far as to say that they were trying to figure out a way to be mean to me, as if devising plots to hurt me. I don’t understand or see how they’re getting away with just sitting over there playing pityparty all day long. Only I can see it because I’ve been quiet, silent and keeping it BETWEEN me and Lex. I only spoke to people I knew wouldn’t go blabbing to Lex or anyone else about it. I spoke with people I knew weren’t even on tumblr to vent, because I do believe in venting. But I didn’t mislead people or try to get them into the middle of it. And continue to do to this day. As it’s proven by both Cami and Muhu, who have gone behind my back to share information about my life to Lex. This should NOT involve other people but I see that continuing to twiddle my thumbs behind a gd screen and hoping people will be logical is not doing me any good. Here is when Lex admitted they were having inferiority complexes and this was the night before the bachelorette party (9/22):

Here is when I noticed that Lex was trying to get in between my muse and Lettie’s. And if not between our muses, he was going to play on the idea of Jude getting with Shion and/or Myles in replacement of Gale, as if I should be bothered by it. AKA they were looking for a reaction (10/05):

It was also (10/05) later that same day that Lex felt they needed to say something. This was them expressing that they felt things weren’t getting any better and by now, I’m hearing things from third parties of what Lex is doing behind my back. Things that are harsh and volatile. Things that are MEANT to hurt me. But despite my greater efforts to be friends with Lex and hoping they will heal from knowing I don’t like them that way (a month ago), they come to me saying this:

(I want to note that Lex is clearly expressing they are frustrated that I’m not giving them enough attention/speaking with them daily? Even though I shouldn’t have to feel obligated to do that. Nor should a friend feel as though I have to speak with them daily just to be friends. I knew that they were still hurting from hearing that I didn’t like them, so I did want to give them the space that THEY asked for but I got to hear more that… ultimately made my next decision.) However, on 10/08, I saw evidence through screenshare that Lex was speaking behind my back to people that I wrote with on tumblr rather closely and it wasn’t just one person but multiple people. It was then that I decided that I needed to step away from it all a few days later. That something wasn’t right and things weren’t improving despite it being a whole month since we last saw each other. So I made a decision that I believed would be most healthy for both of us and would be the most adult like decision. Instead of calling them out or going and venting to people that I know are close to Lex/would have them have second thoughts about Lex, I spoke with them directly (excuse the highlights, I had to use the ‘search’ key to find it on discord):

So here’s the call out post they made about me after I blocked them (10/10):

And then when they admitted that they were wrong:

*And then more proof that they weren’t really just obsessed with me but obsessed with my character more than ever, that I just felt like I didn’t matter:*

It was then that Cami who I haven’t spoke to in MONTHS came into my messenger and demanded answers from me. I again, don’t owe anyone anything. We, too, have had hardships and I have been hoping for many months that Cami would come speak with me. So that we could smooth things out, so we could rebuild our friendship and make it something stable again. So why, why do you believe that you had the right to come to me and demand that I speak with you about Lex? It was clear to me you were only concerned about Lex and that anything I said to you, would travel to Lex. More third-party crap and I didn’t want to be like that, I didn’t want to be like Lex where I was telling the whole fucking world about our problems. I wanted US to fix it. I want US to be friends again.

 No thanks to Cami butting in, but I originally felt bad. I am human and I wanted to give them another chance to be FRIENDS with me. Now mind you, my trust has been violated and broken by them countless times at this point. Just because I let them back into my life again did not mean I was friends with them once more. We had to work on rebuilding that trust still, we had to mend our broken bridges, and that takes time. But that also means there’s no way in the world that I’m going to tell you about my daily life, my social life, my work life, my family, and other friends, etc. I’m probably just going to try to have fun with you in the present by playing games, watching movies, plotting/writing, and not sharing my personal life with you anymore. Why? Because we aren’t dating, we were hardly friends, and we were basically acquaintances—or worse, ex friends trying to be friends again. So what in your right mind makes you think I’m going to tell you about the fact that I’ve made new friends IRL? And that one of those people I’ve developed a crush on, and he’s got NOTHING to do with you. (anon note: withholding this information isn’t bad. Whitholding information that allows people to make informed decisions and then reacting to their uninformed decisions as if they should have known information deliberately witheld is what creates problems)

Now before I dive into that subject, I have to mention the one that happened RIGHT before another drama shitstorm happens. This one involves me having a hard time pulling my muse together and writing on Gale or Gavriel in tumblr (within good reason after the many months of bologna). I have been working on another muse for a time that’s away from all the drama, away from people that unfortunately tire me tf out. That’s not abnormal. That’s why Lex made Stain or their other muse doctor, person. Which they had to smudge in my face that Cami was making themes for them, which they did say that it was only because they weren’t talking to me but rather sleeping while Cami made them a theme. Doesn’t matter, it makes me cringe because they said things like this about Cami:

 And I can’t be entirely faultless either as I’ve played into it some but within reason of my relationship with Cami being so shaky. Me wanting to talk to them but instead they would only be talking to Lex. And I would just hear on occasion that Cami wanted to come speak with me but still hadn’t. It was frustrating and I was sad at the time whenever I heard it. Moving on, I asked Cami after we DID start talking again if they wanted to make me a theme for my new muse. I did approach it as a business, not as friends since I knew we still had to build bridges. Thus, I had offered a good sum of money. They still declined and added that they only make themes for friends, not for money. So I was basically shut down, which was fine, I brushed it off. Until they went behind my back to tell Lex. Again, not something that Lex needed to know—not something I was obligated to tell them when we were still working on our friendship to begin with. And it’s not like I told Tess my childhood friend that I was making a new blog, I didn’t tell ALL my other friends on tumblr that I was making a new blog either, just the people I was getting along with for some space and hopefully you can understand that at this point why (11/12):

So in this, we find out that Cami was the one that leaked information to Lex about my new blog and that set Lex going off on me when I told them I wanted to take a break from Gale & Gavriel. And I finally decided after all this craziness, that we’re in our mid twenties and we’re fighting like children. We’re all TIRED but I’m more tired of the fact everyone has only seen the story through one lenses. I went to Cami afterward to tell them not to share my conversations with other people that do not need to be involved (11/12):

Anyway enough of that evidence. I found out that I really do like a guy (this sounds sudden doesn’t it? it sounds like it shouldn’t be related to this entire problem, should it? well…). That’s right. On PRECISELY Sept 28th, I decided to try my bumble app again. I opened it up and while I was passing through a city, a particular guy piqued my interest. Now, when you first meet someone you aren’t automatically dating. We didn’t establish anything EVEN TO THIS DAY but after last weekend, I’m sure that we’re at least both romantically interested in each other. And I can FINALLY say after the month of October (not even September), that I know I’m heterosexual. Weekend after weekend after going to Tess’s wedding on Oct 14th, I was hanging out with this guy and his friends. I didn’t know if we were friends or something more until last weekend (Nov 11th). That’s TWO WHOLE MONTHS from when I let Lex know that I was not interested in them romantically.

So I don’t know why Muhu felt it was necessary to expel this to Lex (11/13):

Or why they felt they could write a novel on me when they only know half (if it’s even half the truth) of the story (11/13):

Oh BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE. So on top of Muhu feeling it was within their hands/morals to tell Lex something that really didn’t matter after we already spoke and blocked another. I get ANOTHER message from Cami demanding for information. Well fine. Here. Have it. I’m done trying to keep my mouth closed and protect peoples’ feelings.

(And you know what Cami? All that I can remember or think about is that you sound JUST like Forza.)

SO NOW that everyone has gotten their share of thought/side of the story/pov across. I know who my real friends are. I know who I can trust. Unfortunately, I can’t trust you. So goodbye.