#in a place where it will often snow in September | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

climbthemountain2020 · 8 months ago

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Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met

Part 1/? | Ao3

I was momentarily and violently possessed by the spirit of Taylor Swift to write this Feysand

Biggest thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher @cauldronblssd and @rosanna-writer for the best betas a gal could ask for!

[In a world where the Archerons never lost their fortune, fate finds Feyre on the night of a masquerade ball.]

The sun was setting low and bright over the horizon of the lake while Feyre brushed out her hair, her hips leaned casually against the side of the stone railing of the balcony to keep her balance. Before too long, the nights would begin to bring a chill into the air and it wouldn’t be as easy to stand out here and marvel at the colors in the sky. But here at the end of September, the breeze was still balmy enough to skirt over her exposed shoulders like a soft blanket.

The upper register of the sky was turning a deep navy, the stars already sparkling like diamonds. They felt familiar and comforting to her, as they always did. Lower, the blues bled into a menagerie of lavenders, periwinkles, and the lightest, brightest pinks. She wanted to paint the colors so badly, lay them one by one onto a canvas until they merged together seamlessly. The colors reminded her of the smooth interior of a seashell her father had brought home once from a trip. Feyre kept it on her dresser, touching the glossy bridge of it every so often, holding it up to her ear to hear the sounds of the waves lapping the shore, though she’d never actually been to a beach herself.

She sighed, letting the arm with the brush fall to her side and flipping her hair back over a freckled shoulder.

The moon was going to be large in the sky tonight–a good omen for the masquerade in honor of Elain’s twenty-first birthday. If Feyre leaned far enough over the edge of the balcony, she could see the twinkling lights that spread across the entryway to the estate, glowing brightly and welcoming the already-surging crowds of nobles. Though she couldn’t see them from where she was standing, she knew from careful preparation how magical the lights looked, reaching criss-crossed over the main pathway up to the massive oak front doors, though Feyre couldn’t see them from here.

Despite all the shining luster, she felt her elation ebbing like the tide in her chest.

These hosted events were nothing new, but Feyre had trouble getting excited for them anymore. Something about them felt so shallow and empty–forced laughter, fake smiles–it was always the same. The same people, the same conversations, and the same…nothingness that followed.

Elain and Nesta enjoyed them well enough, though you might not know it by Nesta’s face or attitude. The two were born and bred for high society. In theory, Feyre had been too, but something had always been different. She’d taken the same lessons, been born of the same bloodline, suffered the same teachers, and fumbled through the same etiquette courses. But, still, something felt different about her.

A half-wild beast.

Nesta’s favorite insult. Yet, in the quiet privacy of her room, Feyre wore it like a badge of honor.

She would sit on her balcony often, long after the manor was asleep, and stare up at those same smiling stars, dreaming about the stories in her books, and wondering if, in some other lifetime, she was the one slaying dragons, riding horses, and falling in love. She dreamed of wielding the weapons that the guards tossed around so effortlessly in the yard, her fists clenching and unclenching with the want to hold them in her hand. She dreamed of the bow and arrows so vividly that sometimes she woke up feeling as though her arm had been drawn back at the ready, the golden eyes of some animal in the snow flashing brightly in her mind.

But, at the end of the day, Feyre understood her role. She knew her place here, even if she hated it. She’d have gone down swinging and fighting if it weren’t for her sisters, but she knew she’d never forgive herself if she ruined their chances at a life they wanted for her own selfish wants.

So, she allowed the soft dress to be pulled up her body, the corset laced so tightly she could barely breathe. She let the long, golden tresses of her hair be pulled into a braid–nothing efficient or practical, but wispy and loose and lovely. She let them apply powder and blush to her cheekbones, only to roll her eyes to herself knowing she’d be wearing a mask anyway.

Her mask was a glittering mass of crystals inlaid on the softest navy fabric, the tops of the gems twinkling brightly as she turned it in the light. She’d seen the mask in a shop in town and couldn’t take her eyes off of it. It had reminded her of the silent nights spent outside, and she hadn’t been able to leave without it. She may have hated getting dressed and paraded for these events, but at least she’d have chosen one aspect of her presence this evening.

She slipped into the satin shoes, and she listened to them click, click, click down the stone and marble of the halls on her way to the foyer.

The manor smelled magical, the air filled with sweet, sharp, and savory spices from across the world. Her father always returned from his expeditions with barrels of the best foods, cans of spices, and wooden boxes of the loveliest, most exotic teas. Their house regularly smelled of some beautiful delicacy or another, but on nights where events like this took place, the whole manor was awash in the smells, and Feyre always liked that best.

The loud rise of voices became nearly deafening as she reached the massive set of stairs in the entryway.

As she looked down, she could see Elain and Nesta already socializing and doing their duty. Elain was floating like a butterfly around the room, twirling her skirts without even meaning to and catching the wandering eyes of every eligible–and ineligible–man in the room. Elain was effortlessly beautiful and charming–a perfect fit in this life–all soft, rounded edges and sweet sighs. Her mask was a soft, brushed suede in a light brown, the gems rounded up and shaped to mimic the face of a doe. Fitting, for every bit of Elain was that beautiful, gentle, cushioned etiquette that high society expected of her.

If Elain was the cushion, though, Nesta was the pin.

Nesta had dressed in black and red tonight, the ruby gemstones of her mask catching the light and reaching out like the wings of a great creature around her face. Her silver eyes cut across the room, daring any man to come closer. She looked as though she was ready for war, and in truth, she might be. The expectation weighed heavily on Nesta to marry, and soon.

Even Nesta’s calculated coldness couldn’t combat the pressures of society for much longer. She may be cold, but with money and a noble name came the burden of responsibility. Even with her reputation, the men had been lining up for her for nearly two years already. The time she had left was running out. While Feyre knew Nesta did not care one bit for the implications of being an unmarried noble, Nesta knew the consequences for her family and her name were she to be labeled as unmarriageable, and she wouldn’t dare harm Elain’s reputation in such a way. And, in addition, Elain had been breathing down her neck, anxious for her turn and knowing that she could not step forward for a marriage offer until Nesta had accepted one herself.

Feyre sighed as she reached the bottom of the steps, turning immediately to the back walls behind the circle of pillars surrounding the foyer and leading out into the main ballroom. The estate was absurdly large–so large, in fact, that as a child, Feyre had spent years discovering rooms she’d never even seen before. It was a gross misuse of money, from her point of view, but it’s not exactly like they could give rooms to the needy. She had suggested it once as a child, and her mother had their governess strike her for it. Their mother might be long dead, but her lessons lingered into their lives.

As Feyre passed the great doors, the strung-up lights again caught her eye, glowing against the backdrop of the now deep-black sky with the woods behind them. Something stirred within her.

Go. Go see.

But she’d long felt that pull to the woods. She’d also long learned to ignore it for the sake of propriety.

She ribbed at Nesta and Elain often for their expectations, but she knew someday they would fall to her, too. She was nineteen now, and once her sisters had been paired off, it would be her turn to find a nobleman who she’d be handed off to and expected to run his home and birth his children until she died.

The thought was almost enough to send her running to the woods.

Feyre could barely hold a conversation with any of the insufferable, pompous pricks for more than five minutes; she wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to warm one’s bed long term. But she saw her life for what it was: a gilded prison where her options had been predestined, planned, and chosen for her the minute she was placed as a squealing babe in her mother’s arms and declared a girl.

Feyre grabbed a drink from a passing server, sipping it delicately and letting the bubbles settle on her tongue and in her spirit, calming her as she walked into the wide open ballroom and began to skirt around the walls. She’d need to limit it to just the one–she had a tendency to drink too much at these events, and she notoriously could not handle her drink well.

If Feyre was honest with herself, she had wondered more than once what it might be like to meet a handsome young man who was more than the surface-level idiots of the rich families. Not that she was one for a vulnerable moment, but as beautiful as these parties were, they were just the same, old, tired faces again and again. In her bed in the dark, she’d thought more than once what it might be like for a handsome prince like the ones in the books she’d hid away from her governess by shoving them in her mattress to come and whisk her away for something more–something wonderful. Not just for the love story, but for the adventure, too. They’d run off arm in arm, him setting her on a horse by his side to roam the wide world beside him, never behind.

She continued along the curved wall, watching the crowd of twirling bodies embellished in jewels and brightly embroidered threads. She could be in her room, painting the colors swirling together across a canvas, instead of being here and watching it all pass her by.

Abruptly, Feyre stopped in her tracks, the air stolen from her lungs as though by force. She’d been hiding in the near-shadows as the others danced in the light. But across the room, almost entirely encased in shadows of his own, a pair of violet eyes met hers.

Feyre felt as though she’d been punched in the chest, her entire world narrowing in on the singular raised brow attached to those beautiful eyes, staring directly into her soul as though asking have we met? He seemed to hesitate, to recognize her almost, his hand raising nearly imperceptibly as though to wave.

Had she imagined it?

She could almost hear the voice now as she took a tentative step in that direction, closing the gap as she made her way around the room.

Come. Come see.

Silky and smooth and low, like warm honey in a cup of tea, like the burn of whiskey in the swigs she’d stolen in her father’s office. He pushed off the wall and walked towards her, looking quickly to the sides as though to check if anyone else was watching. His approach caused her heart to thunder wildly in her chest.

Come see.

As they approached each other, the gap closing with each step, she was taken aback by his overwhelming beauty. His hair was the color of raven’s wings, softly catching the light of the chandeliers above. The rest of him that wasn’t covered by his mask appeared to be carved out of stone, his chiseled features sharp, but kind. Those beautiful violet eyes up close sparked like they held a galaxy within them, the glittering reminding her of the patterns of the gems in her mask.

This is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

His lips arched up at the corners as though he’d heard her.

Impossible.

He looked familiar as he passed behind each of the marble pillars lining the room, the swirling and twirling of dancers in her periphery not breaking her focus for even a moment. She was a woman possessed, all her energy focused entirely on this beautiful stranger, only steps away. She felt a strangely familiar comfort as they closed the last few feet between them. She was sure she’d have remembered someone like him.

“Hello, darling.” His voice nearly knocked her breathless again as he took her hand in his, sketching a bow as he pressed his lips to her knuckles delicately. The touch of his skin to hers was electric, the currents coursing through her veins like lightning and fire and shooting straight to her chest where they swarmed and tore like bees in a nest.

She must have gasped, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, because his lovely twilight eyes locked on hers, a brow quirking up again as he stared at her. There was something unidentifiable in his expression–something so wide open and unguarded and vulnerable that didn’t match his raised brows or rakish smirk at all.

Underneath all that, there was something like wonder.

Every so often, his carefully curated expression would tic just the tiniest bit, a strain of his jaw, a twitch of his brow, and Feyre could see something different hiding beneath. Something almost nervous.

“Hello.” Her voice was a curious whisper, full of awe and jittery trepidation, but the smile she was granted in return was as bright as the full moon over the lake outside the manor, and it felt especially reserved for her.

“What’s your name?” His voice was deep and rumbling, the timbre of it shooting to her ribs and tugging briefly, so visceral and real that she nearly stepped forward with the ghost of it.

“Feyre.” There was no use playing coy. She wanted to hear her name off his lips–had never wanted anything more than she wanted it.

She swore she could hear his thoughts twirling the name around in his mind, likening it to the tolling of bells. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Feyre,” he murmured, eyes still full of stars and staring at her. “Fey-ruh,” he mouthed wordlessly this time, as though tasting it on his tongue and savoring it. She shivered to the tips of her toes, her eyes tracking the shape of his plush lips as they moved around the syllables.

“Yes,” she said, embarrassingly breathless. “What’s yours? I don’t recognize you.” The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. Feyre had never been good at the rules of high society, failing even the most basic points of etiquette repeatedly and fantastically. But he seemed delighted, and the thrill of it all kept her heart threatening to pound out of her chest.

“Rhysand. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Feyre.” She loved the way he said her name; she loved the way it fit with hers. Feyre and Rhysand.

Rhysand. Rhysand. Rhysand.

He still held her hand in his.

“Would you honor me with a dance, Feyre darling?” She nodded mutely, still struggling to find words in the wake of meeting this familiar stranger, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

He took her hand in his, his midnight black suit with silver embroidery glinting in the light and catching the reflections like beams of light. Rhysand. She tried the name in her mind over and over again until it felt like home on her tongue.

I could see myself calling him Rhys, warm on a couch, his lips on mine.

The thought came out of nowhere, startling her and making a blush race across her cheeks and up her ears. She must have physically flinched, because she could feel Rhysand almost shudder beneath her hand.

At long last, they reached the dance floor right as a new song queued up from the musicians, a light and sturdy waltz that would allow for space to talk between them. She placed her hands on his shoulder and arms, beginning the steps that she knew by heart. He kept time immediately, almost as though the dance was something he’d also grown up knowing.

“You’re not from around here.” Not a question.

“No, I am not.” He offered nothing more. She scrunched her nose, studying him, and he grinned down at her, his hair tumbling down across his forehead.

“Where are you from?”

“Somewhere further north of here. I’m here for business.” She wasn’t one to ask family names, lest she seem like she was throwing herself at his feet. But his words were so vague she couldn’t help but cock a brow at him. He smiled, a laugh on his lips.

“Hmm, family business. Sounds very serious.” The mocking in her voice was not lost on him, and his smile widened.

“It’s all a bit dicey right now. I’m a little out of my element.” She could surely understand what that felt like, nodding almost imperceptibly in agreement.

“Well, what part of business requires you attending a masquerade in the forest?” She couldn’t help but tease him. the words flit off her tongue before she could bite them down, but she relished his surprise. He seemed to enjoy the teasing.

“Just an errant invite to a nobleman passing through. I make it a habit to know the people in the important families when I travel. You never know what you may find.”

“Or whom.” The words were coy, and his eyes flashed momentarily with something akin to hunger before it cleared.

“This is your manor, is it not?” Perhaps he cared more for propriety than her.

“Yes. I’m Feyre, the youngest. The ball is for my sister, Elain. She just turned twenty-one.”

“Ah, and you?”

“Nineteen. Yourself?”

“A bit older, not in spirit, though.” His grin was heart-stopping, her breath catching in her chest at the sight of it. He was stunningly gorgeous, a work of art. Her fingers itched to paint his face embraced by the night sky, the stars humming and shooting past behind him as though they were alive…

Her thoughts were interrupted by his hands on her waist lifting her into the air as though she weighed nothing, her small yelp bringing yet another flush to her face. She’d lost her place in the dance while her thoughts had wandered, but he just chuckled lightly as he set her back down and they resumed. The music slowed to a quieter number and they readjusted their holds on each other to fit the new tempo, stepping close enough to feel his breath flit across her neck.

“You’re not at all how I imagined you’d be.”

“How you imagined?”

“Just the daughter of a noble family. You don’t act like them.”

She scoffed, then raised herself up a bit on her toes, arching her neck to place her lips closer to his ear, never breaking the slow rhythm of the dance. “Can I tell you a secret, Rhysand?” He shuddered lightly beneath her touch as they swayed.

“Anything.”

“I hate it here.” He laughed, something warm and welcoming blooming in her at the sound.

“I can see you somewhere different,” he said, voice still filled with amusement.

“Hmm, where?”

He pulled back a bit and pretended to think about it while she took in his face again, the mask doing nothing to hide the lovely strong jaw and high cheekbones, his dark golden skin nearly glowing beneath the chandelier lights. He looked like he belonged in the galaxies above them, flying through the night sky like some sort of Angel of Darkness in a painting. The thought brought a thrill to Feyre’s lower stomach that she’d only ever felt in the dark of her bedroom alone at night.

“I can see you outside, somewhere beneath the stars with a clear view of the sky.” Feyre could hear her own sharp intake of breath as she felt it, so she was sure he could too. Perhaps, it should be strange that someone she didn’t know at all could guess something so easily about her, something so intimate.

But instead of fear, the only feeling she could summon was comfort. Had anyone ever really known her? It was nice to be seen. It was nice to be known.

“I’d like that.”

The song came to an abrupt end, spooling immediately into another, more fast-paced dance. Feyre let the mischief flare to life behind her eyes as she grabbed his hand in hers.

“Can you keep up?”

His smile could rival the sun, and suddenly it was all she cared to see again.

He grabbed her hand, his skin warm and comforting against hers, and they launched into the steps for the dance, holding each other–perhaps a bit closer than was expected.

Song after song, dance after dance, the two twirled around the room. Feyre could sense time was passing, but she couldn’t find it in herself to track it or care, the world and people an inconsequential blur around them. They weren’t speaking with words, but it all felt like a conversation in and of itself, their bodies and minds somehow in step with each other, learning one another as his starry, violet eyes met blue. His smile crinkled around his lips, and left the smallest, almost unnoticeable dimples in its wake. Feyre grinned to behold it, and something told her it wasn’t a smile most were lucky enough to see.

She felt breathless, bubbly, intoxicated–and she knew that it was unrealistic to fall for someone so suddenly. It was something she expected of Elain, ever the romantic, but for the first time in her entire life, she imagined what it would be like if someone did make a bid for her hand.

For the first time, she thought about what it might be like to accept.

Please don’t be in love with someone else.

After what could have been hours, the songs began to slow again as the night began to wind down, the lights lower and the people quieter. Their hands regrettably dropped off the other, but Feyre wasn’t ready to let this go, not just yet. She leaned in almost imperceptibly, her whisper just barely a breath on her lips.

“Meet me in the garden? The back side of the house with the lake view.” Then, before she could view his expression or regret her actions, she walked off, very audibly complaining to her sisters that her feet hurt and she was off to bed.

Feyre sprinted down the halls, cutting corners so closely she almost slammed into the walls. She rushed across the marble floors, crashed into her bedroom doors, and flung them open and back shut with an intensity of which she didn’t believe herself capable. She shut and locked them behind her, kicking off her uncomfortable heels, ripping off the beautiful mask, and pushing her loose hair off her face as she strode to the balcony. She’d gone out this way in the night so many times it was like second nature to her now, the light breeze smelling of flowers and earth. She crept down the trellis, feet expertly catching on all the holds until she jumped the last few feet. Feyre skittered to the large stone wall to the garden, avoiding the gate in favor of scaling up the thick, twisted vines, swinging a leg over, and dropping wildly down to the other side.

Nesta’s words once again rang in her head, but if she could see Rhys again, even for a moment, then propriety be damned.

She turned to run but pulled up short with a gasp when she found him already there, nearly running into his chest.

“Hi.” The word was a breathy exhale on her tongue.

“I’ve been looking for you.” His words were soft and quiet in the night, a kind smile already on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners in what appeared to be delight. Without his mask, she could see his lovely face in full, somehow even more beautiful than before.

“Would you like to walk? I can show you the lake.” It was one of her favorite places on the property. Elain favored the gardens, Nesta the copse of old oak trees that were older than the manor itself, but Feyre had always loved the lake. More times than she could count, as a child and even older, she’d had to be dragged from its murky depths. She loved to play in it, the time slipping away as she swam around, played with the fish, and even laid on her back just watching the clouds. Nesta called her a swamp monster, but she hadn’t minded.

Under the light of the moon, she led Rhysand to her favorite lakeside view, a small stone bench beneath the curtain of a weeping willow. Here, she couldn’t be seen from the house, and it was often she’d come here to paint, or relax, or just be left alone.

“Is this your favorite spot then?” He asked coyly, almost as though he’d heard her think it, as she grabbed her skirts up and sat down.

“I like to be alone, more often than not, and it’s easy to come here and buy some time unseen.”

“Unseen, hmm.” He sat beside her, the warmth of his thigh brushing against her own. “Did you take me here to kill me then, Feyre?” A laugh burst out of Feyre before she could stop it, loud and unrestrained as she raised a hand to her mouth. He was so funny; men were never funny. She should have been embarrassed that she’d guffawed like a goat in front of him, but when she looked up, his face was lit with an intangible sense of joy that stopped her short.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” The words weighed heavy in the air around them, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “I hope to hear it again.”

“You could.” She wasn’t sure what had come over her, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them with any sense.

“If I make you laugh too often, I think they require a proposal in these parts.” A grin split his face, but something about his tone felt serious to Feyre.

“Would that be so terrible?” His responding smile was sad, almost pained, as he grabbed her hand in his.

“Please believe me, Feyre, when I tell you nothing would please me more than to ask for your hand in marriage this very second. If I was able, I would have already asked your father.” The words froze and ached in her chest, making it hard to swallow, but she couldn’t look away.

“I wouldn’t say no.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to fight with himself over something. “In my current home, I am unable to make any propositions, and it would kill me to make you a promise I couldn’t fulfill. You deserve more than that. More than me.” It was the first true crack she’d seen in his mask, the first real show of that vulnerability that she’d sensed immediately. He huffed a mirthless laugh.

“What if I waited?” His eyes shot back to hers. “My sisters are not yet wed, and I cannot go before them anyway. What if we waited until your circumstances changed? We have time.” The hope and awe and wonder in his eyes was almost enough to unseat her entirely. His hand came to touch her jaw delicately, softly, as though she was something precious in his hands.

“I can’t ask you to–”

“I want to. Rhysand, I want to. This is crazy, I’m never this way. Truly, Nesta likens me to a beast more often than anything else. I don’t get along with others, but…” When she looked up again, he was staring at her like she’d hung the stars and moon. “You see me. I don’t know how I know, but I can tell. You see all that I am, here, now.” He nodded, brows deeply furrowed, as though thinking before he spoke.

“You would wait?”

“I would, unfailingly.” Something cracked wide open in her chest at the admission she hadn’t quite even felt herself deciding to make. Who was this man who had enthralled her so completely and utterly? And why did it feel more right than anything ever had before?

His eyes searched her face, as if looking for any reason to say no and failing.

“Would it be wildly improper of me to ask to kiss you?” His voice was as breathless as hers, as though they were speaking on sacred ground. She’d tipped forward a bit, leaning her face into his hand.

“It would, but do it anyway.”

“Can I kiss–” She didn’t let him finish as she surged up, pressing her lips to his.

The effect was immediate, sparks shooting off in her mind like a cracking piece of firewood. The tug in her chest became overwhelming as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his tongue moving against the seam of her lips as though asking for permission. She let him in, the smooth caress of his tongue against her own drawing a sound out of her that she’d never heard before. He smelled like jasmine and lilac as she ran her hands through his silky, inky hair, the motion drawing him closer as he ran his hands down her sides to hold her waist. It felt monumental, world-shifting, right.

The kiss deepened as he shifted her into his lap, his hands pulling, gripping, grabbing at every inch of her as they slid up her thighs to cup her ass. She ground down against him, feeling him against her and losing the fight against tipping her head back as his mouth left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. She gasped as she felt his teeth, feeling sharper and more dangerous than they were, skirting lightly over her pulse point, something deep and primal thrumming within her at the action.

He murmured against her, “Feyre, you’re my–” And she would have given him anything he asked of her in that moment. A kiss, herself, the entire world.

But, abruptly, the sound of laughter and shattering glass broke them apart. Someone at the party had dropped something on their way out, but Feyre and Rhysand stared at each other, eyes wide and wild, chests heaving for air as they broke free of the spell.

“Feyre.” The word was a prayer on his lips as he licked them, as though he were tasting her one more time.

She pressed another, more chaste, kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling as he sighed against her.

“Will you write to me, when your circumstances change?” She asked. His face was full of such wide, open hope. She would wait, and she’d do so happily if there was even a chance of this being the future that awaited her.

“Yes, of course. I’ll call on you when all is settled. I will see you again.” It sounded like a promise, an oath. She believed him as she felt the surge of joy and anticipation welling within her, the feelings stronger and more potent than she had ever felt before.

They stood, so unwilling to untangle their limbs and let go. He walked her back to the stone wall, offering to give her a hand and help her up. She sat atop it, gazing upon him a final time.

“I am very glad to have met you tonight, Rhysand.”

“Rhys.” He sketched a bow. “Call me Rhys. I was enchanted to meet you, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.” He smiled, and as she turned to quietly dismount the other side, she looked back a final time to find him already gone.

+++

Rhys stood on the stone wall surrounding the manor as the moon dipped low in the sky. The colors of the sun on the horizon would be coming soon, but he hadn’t been quite ready to go yet. Instead, he stood, shrouded in the dark, hands in his pockets and the entirety of his focus on a single balcony. The wall was large and sturdy, at least two feet across and spanning the entire estate.

Good, Rhys thought. There are predators here.

Through the balcony window, the gossamer curtains flowed in the breeze, the low, golden light inside highlighting the fuzzy shapes within. He could see movement, the motion he’d been waiting for since she left the lakeside bench. His breath caught in his chest as she appeared, her hair down from her braid, loosely flowing over her shoulders and back as she spun around the room in her nightgown.

Dancing. She was dancing.

For the first time in decades, Rhys felt something like tears burning behind his eyes. She was so incredibly beautiful there in the window, holding her arms out and mimicking the moves that they had completed together only hours before. He’d have stayed a lifetime if only to see her dance again, to see that beautiful smile light up her face when she looked at him.

He’d been a fool to accept her offer, but it had been so long since Rhys had felt hope. He’d been an idiot to come here in the first place, considering the circumstances, but he had to see her, touch her, know that there was something worth fighting for. If he was going to make it out alive, he needed hope.

Mate. My mate.

He’d heard her thoughts all night long, so open and honest and forthright, not even second guessing herself. She fit him so thoroughly, her thoughts often matching his as they flitted through his own mind.

She was perfect.

It had been years since the first time he’d seen her in his dreams, just snips and flashes of her running through the woods, sloshing through the lake, then more detailed pictures of her pranking her sisters and governess, painting the undersides of furniture and the trees of the forest so no one would see. It had been a particularly horrible day when he’d finally broken and gone to see her, the lights of the ball providing a convenient ruse.

He’d told himself to be aloof, just a visiting guest, only there to observe.

Then he saw her. The pull nearly painful and he was pushing off the walls to look for her the second their eyes met.

If he had suspected the mating bond before, he was certain now, the tether alive and glowing in his chest, though unsnapped. He wondered how it felt to her, a human, but they’d been sharing thoughts and emotions all night, to his great joy.

Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

Half of that promise he could fulfill–he would never love anyone but her, his mate, the female from his dreams. He would always belong to her, the visual of her pressed against his chest as they danced, her smile bright and warm and eyes happy to see him. There would never be anyone else for him but the human girl who was a dreamer, who wanted more for herself in this life than the pretentious, materialistic world of a nobleman’s daughter. He watched as she threw herself back onto her fluffy bed with a sigh, kicking her feet against it as he smiled.

It was time for him to go, to flee back beneath the mountain before Amarantha looked too closely into his absence. He wouldn’t risk Feyre, no matter how much his heart ached to be near her. Just this glimpse would get him through, get him one step closer, one move further into a future where he might fulfill his promise, might be able to come to her again. Might even be able to bring her back home with him. Home, to his family.

He gave her a final look, smelling that pear and lilac scent on the breeze and filling his lungs with it.

“I’ll come back for you. I promise.” And then he was gone.

#feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #acotar #acotar fics #feyre and rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met

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peachjagiya · 7 months ago

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This is for @blue703 2019. The one where JK made the bear snow globe and gave it to Tae. Watch it again and watch them closely. Tae seemed to be off at the first part of their trip with JK constantly looking at him. He was giving Tae space but he looked wary and his focus was mostly on Tae. When they were all making the snow globes, Suga even said to Taehyung "Taehyung, you should learn to let go or else you will lose even those you already have." In essence, that's what his message was. Seems like Suga was helping JK out to "make up" with Taehyung.

Few things to note about Winter Package in Finland as well:

They blurred the names of who they picked to give their snow globes too, and I have a hunch that it's because JK didn't give the globe to the one he is supposed to give it to and broke the "chain" by giving his to Tae. Hence, you have Hobi quickly "remedying" the situation at the end by giving the globe he made himself to himself coz "he love his self" LOL!

TK were giving eo space the first day there, JK wasn't able to get much footage of Tae for GCF coz he didn't approach Tae in the 1st day activity. He got his footage when they seemingly made up already the next day.

I don't know when they actually "made up", but there was a shift in that "giving space to eo" to then clinging to eo after when JK cried while reading his own letter. Tae went over to him and comforted him. After this "scene", they were around eo more often and we got pleeeenty of domestic and sweet TK moments: photoshoot of JK backhugging Tae, JK smelling Tae's hair looking so domestic if you took a photo of that moment, Jk saying Tae is so innocent and Tae getting flustered etc.

When they were writing on their "trip diaries", JK seemed to have wrote the first lines of Kim Dong Ryul's "Like a Child": "When you said you love and accepted my love....." VMinKook were horsing around writing on their diaries. JK and JM wrote on Tae's diary, there was a page full of smileys which led to a prompt on the diary "remind someone you loved one you love them" and those lyrics where what was written above. Now, the most intriguing part is when Tae was reading what JK and JM wrote. You can see the moment he gasped on camera and got visibly moved almost like choking on tears. This is a link to what was written: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYmYebHc/ And this link to when Tae read what was written on his diary: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYmFsjCy/

They were pretty much so cozy after they "made up". This was also when I notice a shift in JK being more "open" in his affections for Tae. Airport nape kiss, GDA Hug, Grammys clinging etc all happened after this trip.

They went to Finland in November 2019 for this. Another thing to note, the "Get out of your imagination" comment happened just days after TK made up and were so cozy, hence the "Tae put shippers into place" "He doesn't love Jungkook like that" comments don't make sense. He was literally being pampered and showered with love and affection by JK those days LOL!

I don't know what the cause of the "drama" was at first part of that trip. This was months (November) after JK and tattoo girl issue came out (September), they travelled to New Zealand (BV 4) when that news broke and TK seemed fine (but then they are filming so they must show they're fine BUT then clearly in Winter Package, Tae had no issue avoiding interactions with JK when they arrived in Finland so.... there's that too). What stood out to me tho is this trip happened a week after JK's minor car accident. He was apparently just few minutes away from Tae's house. I dont know if there's a connection to that and their lil "non-scenes" in Finland.

Oh also note that Tae must have stared writing Sweet Night around this time.

This has been too long now 😆 I'd love to read anyone's thoughts as well. 💜

Thanks @sweeteyestell!

For you, @blue703.

And a merry Christmas to us all.

#taekook #my asks

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gay-noodle-clan · 8 months ago

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Don’t know if anyone’s interested, but I want to introduce my DR self.

This is Andi Grei Ruenhaert, fourth born child of Talsen Ruenhaert, king of Lelyra, and Shasta Indarain, queen of Lelyra and High Priestess of the Goddess of Fate.

- Andi’s pronouns are She / They.

- Andi is half kienrif, a species I created. Kienrif are shapeshifters that can only turn into one animal: tiger, lion, wolf, coyote, bear, hyena, leopard, jaguar, elk. Tigers are mostly extinct, but as the art shows, there is a tiger behind her. This is her other form.

- Andi is 6’9, due to being half kienrif through her father’s side, a species known for their height. She is actually unusually small for the species, due to her being only half. Her tiger form is also rather small, only the size of the average wolf.

- Andi is a quarter Wood Elf and a quarter Hummingbird Fae through her mother’s side, giving her an unusually long lifespan, pointed ears, and a rather quick but graceful step.

- Andi was born September 19, 1374 A.D. In most of my DRs, it is the year 1397 A.D., making Andi 23 years old.

- Andi lives in Miðrfold, but was born in the realm Tasmuidal. For reference, our reality / realm is Heltensrike. Miðrfold is another reality / realm that is connected to Heltensrike, and to Tasmuidal, and translates to the Middle Realm. Tasmuidal is the “final” realm / reality, and is considered unholy or dead lands.

- Tasmuidal has 2 countries, Auluiria and Lelyra. Andi is from Lelyra, a place that snows year-round. They rely heavily on trade for food and supplies, and often eat the northern Leopard Seal selkies so that they can avoid trade a bit more and not have to keep an eye out for hungry selkies stealing children.

- Andi is very soft spoken and sweet, but is able to stand up for herself when necessary. She is very well-liked, though, and is rumoured to be the next Sylvati, something akin to the magical leader of the realm.

- It varies who her romantic partner is, depending entirely on what DR I am in.

- The way Andi ends up in DRs is that she touches an auyura, or a magical fae’s gate, and it takes her to an unknown, uncharted place, the DR. For reference, she touches the gate, and ends up in My Hero Academia.

- Andi has plant-related magic due to being a quarter Wood Elf, and has the ability to understand animals if she learns their language. This is usually a common tongue amongst animals of an area—rabbits, bobcats, and squirrels would all speak the same rough common tongue in a northern pine forest where they live together, that an elf could learn. But the bobcats of different regions could understand each other through their own first language, but the elf would have to learn that language separately, because it is a different language from the pine forest’s common tongue… there’s a lot of different languages to learn. Most elves specialise in certain species or areas. Andi chooses to specialise in smaller woodland mammals. Whereas her grandmother, Svea, understands dragons, because she’s learned that language. It took Svea a couple hundred years, though.

- Andi knows 13 different languages: “Not too many. Icelandic, Germanic, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, Faroese, Estonian, Norwegian, Greek, Portuguese, Ukrainian, a bit of French, Japanese, Mandarin and Cantonese, Korean, Doric, and Elvish. It is embarrassingly little, unfortunately.” She has the life goal of learning as many languages as possible. Although she refuses to learn English, mostly out of spite for having found the language too difficult when she was younger.

- Andi is incredibly intelligent, but is usually in her own world. Good luck getting her to respond when she’s daydreaming.

And that’s my DR self! Yes I made her special, because it’s my DR, so why not? Andi is my DR self in all of my DRs (30+), except for 3.

There’s more about her, too, if anyone is ever interested. I don’t refer to myself as Andi because in this reality, that isn’t who I am. I’m Andi in another reality, and prefer to stay Noodlers in this reality.

However, please feel free to ask me about her if I missed anything!

#reality shifting #shifting #shifting realities #manifestation #loassumption #shifting antis dni #dr self #realities shifting #desired reality self #desired reality

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cheerleaderman · 1 year ago

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Astrid Primrose

A quite person who doesn’t want to stand out.Some-people think he’s hiding something deep given his curse but others see him as friendly and helpful.

Personality :

quite, reserved, socially awkward,only show true self with people their comfortable with, won’t say if he’s hurt, more Genuine with people they are comfortable with, pretty simple , Gracious

Twst : the enchanted rose

Basic Info

Age: 17

He/they

Voice claim: Langa- Sk8 the infinity (eng and Jp)

Birthday: September 18

Height: 174cm

class: 2-C

Dorm: Diasomnia

Nickname: koi fish (Floyd) ,Monsieur rose enchantèe(Rook) ,Ash

Dominant Hand: Right

favorite food: different kinds of bread, salad, chocolate and melon

Hobbies/likes: chess, cross word puzzles, puzzles, origami , snow, birds, architecture, stargazing

Dislikes: feeling trapped, moldy food, mold , dumpster diving

Club: Equestrian

Hometown : Briar Valley

Best subject: astrology

Talents: Completing puzzles quickly and reading maps

Unique magic/Curse : Beast of the guilty

He has no control of the curse but it seems like if he touches or direct eye contact for long enough. A shadow looking beast will surround a person in vine staring them down making them relive something they deeply regret and it could last for a day or two after being let go basically tormenting them with guilt. Astrid curse that will later become his UM.

For the selfish and the lairs

You must not feel pity

Because soon they will meet

The beast of the guilty

More info

-Wants to travel the world when they hit 21

-thinking of becoming an architect

- Astrid pretty goofy with people they are comfortable with and would do it with his resting expression having others if he’s serious

- Doesn’t talk much about their home or family when they do some say there is a kinda unsettling feeling/ look in his eyes

-Swears the horses like messing with him

-Part Fae but didn’t know until Sebek said something ( Malleus and Lilia thought he knew about it)

- is like 80% Fae 20% human [ he can Fly ,is super strong and poison doesn’t have the same effect on him as humans]

- believes they’re unlovable

-played against Leona in chess during a school club event and impressed Leona so now they play against each other often (Astrid got adopted )

-Friends with Jamil (they don’t have a label on their relationship) They met during joint classes in 1st year and would talk continue to talk. Would look Astrid in the eyes and miss the shot on purpose goofy stuff like that.

J-“what’s your obsession with bread?” A-“Bread was the only food that wasn’t stale or moldy that was given to me at the orphanage * goes back to eating bread*” J-*shocked*

-Managed to get Azul indebted to him with 2 favors and would always avoid his attempts saying “he doesn’t want anything from Azul” Azul can’t even blackmail since there isn’t much he can use besides basic info even then Astrid blocks the attempt.

-good at drawing manly buildings and interiors and has some sketchbooks filled of them

- Would carry Sliver back to the dorm if it’s late/ Sliver would sometimes fall asleep on them

-Sebek has never called Astrid human

More about Astrid

Outfits

(Astrid’s hair is covering his eye in lab wear just lazy to fix it)

Backstory

Astrid lived in an poor orphanage in Briar valley until they were 10. During their time there others would stay away or bully him because of his curse thinking he did it on purpose causing them to run away.Astrid would dumpster diving for food, doing best to survive when he teacher found them.

Being taken in Astrid reside in the west wing of the place.Given a place to stay and food to eat he was very grateful for finally finding a family so he thought. Even though his teacher showed him love and kindness the rest of her family didn’t seem to like him and didn’t understand why.

At 14 is when he finally understood sneaking out of the west wing. Walking around coming across room where Teacher and her husband were talking about no other than their cruse.

The cures was supposed to be used against his teacher.Due to the selfishness and betraying her old friend.

One day you will come across a child who will be your downfall.

By the time the child turns 21 you will pass as they will obtain the magic you prioritize so dearly.

But if you put away your selfishness and welcome the child into your arms truly loving them you may live to see another day.

He never heard such a venomous tone from his teacher but didn’t hear anymore running back to his room heartbroken.

“That why teacher family doesn’t like me”

“Were those accident everyone trying to get rid of me”

“Teacher doesn’t even like me, My parents didn’t want, The staff ignores me, no one wants to be around me”

“All because of this stupid curse! The only reason I’m here is for someone’s revenge”

“I’m I really that unlovable?”

After that day Astrid started to pretend to reciprocate the “love” their teacher gave them.Planning to leave at 20 which changed when he got excepted into NRC for when they graduate they’ll just never return home.

Divider

#twisted wonderland #art #twst #twst oc #twisted oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc art #oc #artists on tumblr #cheer!art #cheer!Astrid #oc lore #oc intro

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dailyanarchistposts · 9 months ago

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Introduction

Two aspects of animal life impressed me most during the journeys which I made in my youth in Eastern Siberia and Northern Manchuria. One of them was the extreme severity of the struggle for existence which most species of animals have to carry on against an inclement Nature; the enormous destruction of life which periodically results from natural agencies; and the consequent paucity of life over the vast territory which fell under my observation. And the other was, that even in those few spots where animal life teemed in abundance, I failed to find — although I was eagerly looking for it — that bitter struggle for the means of existence, among animals belonging to the same species, which was considered by most Darwinists (though not always by Darwin himself) as the dominant characteristic of struggle for life, and the main factor of evolution.

The terrible snow-storms which sweep over the northern portion of Eurasia in the later part of the winter, and the glazed frost that often follows them; the frosts and the snow-storms which return every year in the second half of May, when the trees are already in full blossom and insect life swarms everywhere; the early frosts and, occasionally, the heavy snowfalls in July and August, which suddenly destroy myriads of insects, as well as the second broods of the birds in the prairies; the torrential rains, due to the monsoons, which fall in more temperate regions in August and September — resulting in inundations on a scale which is only known in America and in Eastern Asia, and swamping, on the plateaus, areas as wide as European States; and finally, the heavy snowfalls, early in October, which eventually render a territory as large as France and Germany, absolutely impracticable for ruminants, and destroy them by the thousand — these were the conditions under which I saw animal life struggling in Northern Asia. They made me realize at an early date the overwhelming importance in Nature of what Darwin described as “the natural checks to over-multiplication,” in comparison to the struggle between individuals of the same species for the means of subsistence, which may go on here and there, to some limited extent, but never attains the importance of the former. Paucity of life, under-population — not over-population — being the distinctive feature of that immense part of the globe which we name Northern Asia, I conceived since then serious doubts — which subsequent study has only confirmed — as to the reality of that fearful competition for food and life within each species, which was an article of faith with most Darwinists, and, consequently, as to the dominant part which this sort of competition was supposed to play in the evolution of new species.

On the other hand, wherever I saw animal life in abundance, as, for instance, on the lakes where scores of species and millions of individuals came together to rear their progeny; in the colonies of rodents; in the migrations of birds which took place at that time on a truly American scale along the Usuri; and especially in a migration of fallow-deer which I witnessed on the Amur, and during which scores of thousands of these intelligent animals came together from an immense territory, flying before the coming deep snow, in order to cross the Amur where it is narrowest — in all these scenes of animal life which passed before my eyes, I saw Mutual Aid and Mutual Support carried on to an extent which made me suspect in it a feature of the greatest importance for the maintenance of life, the preservation of each species, and its further evolution.

And finally, I saw among the semi-wild cattle and horses in Transbaikalia, among the wild ruminants everywhere, the squirrels, and so on, that when animals have to struggle against scarcity of food, in consequence of one of the above-mentioned causes, the whole of that portion of the species which is affected by the calamity, comes out of the ordeal so much impoverished in vigour and health, that no progressive evolution of the species can be based upon such periods of keen competition.

Consequently, when my attention was drawn, later on, to the relations between Darwinism and Sociology, I could agree with none of the works and pamphlets that had been written upon this important subject. They all endeavoured to prove that Man, owing to his higher intelligence and knowledge, may mitigate the harshness of the struggle for life between men; but they all recognized at the same time that the struggle for the means of existence, of every animal against all its congeners, and of every man against all other men, was “a law of Nature.” This view, however, I could not accept, because I was persuaded that to admit a pitiless inner war for life within each species, and to see in that war a condition of progress, was to admit something which not only had not yet been proved, but also lacked confirmation from direct observation.

On the contrary, a lecture “On the Law of Mutual Aid,” which was delivered at a Russian Congress of Naturalists, in January 1880, by the well-known zoologist, Professor Kessler, the then Dean of the St. Petersburg University, struck me as throwing a new light on the whole subject. Kessler’s idea was, that besides the law of Mutual Struggle there is in Nature the law of Mutual Aid, which, for the success of the struggle for life, and especially for the progressive evolution of the species, is far more important than the law of mutual contest. This suggestion — which was, in reality, nothing but a further development of the ideas expressed by Darwin himself in The Descent of Man — seemed to me so correct and of so great an importance, that since I became acquainted with it (in 1883) I began to collect materials for further developing the idea, which Kessler had only cursorily sketched in his lecture, but had not lived to develop. He died in 1881.

In one point only I could not entirely endorse Kessler’s views. Kessler alluded to “parental feeling” and care for progeny (see below, Chapter I) as to the source of mutual inclinations in animals. However, to determine how far these two feelings have really been at work in the evolution of sociable instincts, and how far other instincts have been at work in the same direction, seems to me a quite distinct and a very wide question, which we hardly can discuss yet. It will be only after we have well established the facts of mutual aid in different classes of animals, and their importance for evolution, that we shall be able to study what belongs in the evolution of sociable feelings, to parental feelings, and what to sociability proper — the latter having evidently its origin at the earliest stages of the evolution of the animal world, perhaps even at the “colony-stages.” I consequently directed my chief attention to establishing first of all, the importance of the Mutual Aid factor of evolution, leaving to ulterior research the task of discovering the origin of the Mutual Aid instinct in Nature.

The importance of the Mutual Aid factor — “if its generality could only be demonstrated” — did not escape the naturalist’s genius so manifest in Goethe. When Eckermann told once to Goethe — it was in 1827 — that two little wren-fledglings, which had run away from him, were found by him next day in the nest of robin redbreasts (Rothkehlchen), which fed the little ones, together with their own youngsters, Goethe grew quite excited about this fact. He saw in it a confirmation of his pantheistic views, and said: — “If it be true that this feeding of a stranger goes through all Nature as something having the character of a general law — then many an enigma would be solved. “He returned to this matter on the next day, and most earnestly entreated Eckermann (who was, as is known, a zoologist) to make a special study of the subject, adding that he would surely come “to quite invaluable treasuries of results” (Gespräche, edition of 1848, vol. iii. pp. 219, 221). Unfortunately, this study was never made, although it is very possible that Brehm, who has accumulated in his works such rich materials relative to mutual aid among animals, might have been inspired by Goethe’s remark.

Several works of importance were published in the years 1872–1886, dealing with the intelligence and the mental life of animals (they are mentioned in a footnote in Chapter I of this book), and three of them dealt more especially with the subject under consideration; namely, Les Sociétés animales [Animal Societies], by Espinas (Paris, 1877); La Lutte pour l’existence et l’association pout la lutte [The struggle for existence and the association for the struggle], a lecture by J.L. Lanessan (April 1881); and Louis Böchner’s book, Liebe und Liebes-Leben in der Thierwelt [Love and love life in the animal world], of which the first edition appeared in 1882 or 1883, and a second, much enlarged, in 1885. But excellent though each of these works is, they leave ample room for a work in which Mutual Aid would be considered, not only as an argument in favour of a pre-human origin of moral instincts, but also as a law of Nature and a factor of evolution. Espinas devoted his main attention to such animal societies (ants, bees) as are established upon a physiological division of labour, and though his work is full of admirable hints in all possible directions, it was written at a time when the evolution of human societies could not yet be treated with the knowledge we now possess. Lanessan’s lecture has more the character of a brilliantly laid-out general plan of a work, in which mutual support would be dealt with, beginning with rocks in the sea, and then passing in review the world of plants, of animals and men. As to Büchner’s work, suggestive though it is and rich in facts, I could not agree with its leading idea. The book begins with a hymn to Love, and nearly all its illustrations are intended to prove the existence of love and sympathy among animals. However, to reduce animal sociability to love and sympathy means to reduce its generality and its importance, just as human ethics based upon love and personal sympathy only have contributed to narrow the comprehension of the moral feeling as a whole. It is not love to my neighbour — whom I often do not know at all — which induces me to seize a pail of water and to rush towards his house when I see it on fire; it is a far wider, even though more vague feeling or instinct of human solidarity and sociability which moves me. So it is also with animals. It is not love, and not even sympathy (understood in its proper sense) which induces a herd of ruminants or of horses to form a ring in order to resist an attack of wolves; not love which induces wolves to form a pack for hunting; not love which induces kittens or lambs to play, or a dozen of species of young birds to spend their days together in the autumn; and it is neither love nor personal sympathy which induces many thousand fallow-deer scattered over a territory as large as France to form into a score of separate herds, all marching towards a given spot, in order to cross there a river. It is a feeling infinitely wider than love or personal sympathy — an instinct that has been slowly developed among animals and men in the course of an extremely long evolution, and which has taught animals and men alike the force they can borrow from the practice of mutual aid and support, and the joys they can find in social life.

The importance of this distinction will be easily appreciated by the student of animal psychology, and the more so by the student of human ethics. Love, sympathy and self-sacrifice certainly play an immense part in the progressive development of our moral feelings. But it is not love and not even sympathy upon which Society is based in mankind. It is the conscience — be it only at the stage of an instinct — of human solidarity. It is the unconscious recognition of the force that is borrowed by each man from the practice of mutual aid; of the close dependency of every one’s happiness upon the happiness of all; and of the sense of justice, or equity, which brings the individual to consider the rights of every other individual as equal to his own. Upon this broad and necessary foundation the still higher moral feelings are developed. But this subject lies outside the scope of the present work, and I shall only indicate here a lecture, “Justice and Morality” which I delivered in reply to Huxley’s Ethics, and in which the subject has been treated at some length.

Consequently I thought that a book, written on Mutual Aid as a Law of Nature and a factor of evolution, might fill an important gap. When Huxley issued, in 1888, his “Struggle-for-life” manifesto (Struggle for Existence and its Bearing upon Man), which to my appreciation was a very incorrect representation of the facts of Nature, as one sees them in the bush and in the forest, I communicated with the editor of the Nineteenth Century, asking him whether he would give the hospitality of his review to an elaborate reply to the views of one of the most prominent Darwinists; and Mr. James Knowles received the proposal with fullest sympathy. I also spoke of it to W. Bates. “Yes, certainly; that is true Darwinism,” was his reply. “It is horrible what ‘they’ have made of Darwin. Write these articles, and when they are printed, I will write to you a letter which you may publish.” Unfortunately, it took me nearly seven years to write these articles, and when the last was published, Bates was no longer living.

After having discussed the importance of mutual aid in various classes of animals, I was evidently bound to discuss the importance of the same factor in the evolution of Man. This was the more necessary as there are a number of evolutionists who may not refuse to admit the importance of mutual aid among animals, but who, like Herbert Spencer, will refuse to admit it for Man. For primitive Man — they maintain — war of each against all was the law of life. In how far this assertion, which has been too willingly repeated, without sufficient criticism, since the times of Hobbes, is supported by what we know about the early phases of human development, is discussed in the chapters given to the Savages and the Barbarians.

The number and importance of mutual-aid institutions which were developed by the creative genius of the savage and half-savage masses, during the earliest clan-period of mankind and still more during the next village-community period, and the immense influence which these early institutions have exercised upon the subsequent development of mankind, down to the present times, induced me to extend my researches to the later, historical periods as well; especially, to study that most interesting period — the free medieval city republics, of which the universality and influence upon our modern civilization have not yet been duly appreciated. And finally, I have tried to indicate in brief the immense importance which the mutual-support instincts, inherited by mankind from its extremely long evolution, play even now in our modern society, which is supposed to rest upon the principle: “every one for himself, and the State for all,” but which it never has succeeded, nor will succeed in realizing.

It may be objected to this book that both animals and men are represented in it under too favourable an aspect; that their sociable qualities are insisted upon, while their anti-social and self-asserting instincts are hardly touched upon. This was, however, unavoidable. We have heard so much lately of the “harsh, pitiless struggle for life,” which was said to be carried on by every animal against all other animals, every “savage” against all other “savages,” and every civilized man against all his co-citizens — and these assertions have so much become an article of faith — that it was necessary, first of all, to oppose to them a wide series of facts showing animal and human life under a quite different aspect. It was necessary to indicate the overwhelming importance which sociable habits play in Nature and in the progressive evolution of both the animal species and human beings: to prove that they secure to animals a better protection from their enemies, very often facilities for getting food and (winter provisions, migrations, etc.), longevity, therefore a greater facility for the development of intellectual faculties; and that they have given to men, in addition to the same advantages, the possibility of working out those institutions which have enabled mankind to survive in its hard struggle against Nature, and to progress, notwithstanding all the vicissitudes of its history. It is a book on the law of Mutual Aid, viewed at as one of the chief factors of evolution — not on all factors of evolution and their respective values; and this first book had to be written, before the latter could become possible.

I should certainly be the last to underrate the part which the self-assertion of the individual has played in the evolution of mankind. However, this subject requires, I believe, a much deeper treatment than the one it has hitherto received. In the history of mankind, individual self-assertion has often been, and continually is, something quite different from, and far larger and deeper than, the petty, unintelligent narrow-mindedness, which, with a large class of writers, goes for “individualism” and “self-assertion.” Nor have history-making individuals been limited to those whom historians have represented as heroes. My intention, consequently, is, if circumstances permit it, to discuss separately the part taken by the self-assertion of the individual in the progressive evolution of mankind. I can only make in this place the following general remark: — When the Mutual Aid institutions — the tribe, the village community, the guilds, the medieval city — began, in the course of history, to lose their primitive character, to be invaded by parasitic growths, and thus to become hindrances to progress, the revolt of individuals against these institutions took always two different aspects. Part of those who rose up strove to purify the old institutions, or to work out a higher form of commonwealth, based upon the same Mutual Aid principles; they tried, for instance, to introduce the principle of “compensation,” instead of the lex talionis [The law of retaliation], and later on, the pardon of offences, or a still higher ideal of equality before the human conscience, in lieu of “compensation,” according to class-value. But at the very same time, another portion of the same individual rebels endeavoured to break down the protective institutions of mutual support, with no other intention but to increase their own wealth and their own powers. In this three-cornered contest, between the two classes of revolted individuals and the supporters of what existed, lies the real tragedy of history. But to delineate that contest, and honestly to study the part played in the evolution of mankind by each one of these three forces, would require at least as many years as it took me to write this book.

Of works dealing with nearly the same subject, which have been published since the publication of my articles on Mutual Aid among Animals, I must mention The Lowell Lectures on the Ascent of Man, by Henry Drummond (London, 1894), and The Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, by A. Sutherland (London, 1898). Both are constructed chiefly on the lines taken in Büchner’s Love, and in the second work the parental and familial feeling as the sole influence at work in the development of the moral feelings has been dealt with at some length. A third work dealing with man and written on similar lines is The Principles of Sociology, by Prof. F.A. Giddings, the first edition of which was published in 1896 at New York and London, and the leading ideas of which were sketched by the author in a pamphlet in 1894. I must leave, however, to literary critics the task of discussing the points of contact, resemblance, or divergence between these works and mine.

The different chapters of this book were published first in the Nineteenth Century (“Mutual Aid among Animals,” in September and November 1890; “Mutual Aid among Savages,” in April 1891; “Mutual Aid among the Barbarians,” in January 1892; “Mutual Aid in the Mediæval City,” in August and September 1894; and “Mutual Aid amongst Modern Men,” in January and June 1896). In bringing them out in a book form my first intention was to embody in an Appendix the mass of materials, as well as the discussion of several secondary points, which had to be omitted in the review articles. It appeared, however, that the Appendix would double the size of the book, and I was compelled to abandon, or, at least, to postpone its publication. The present Appendix includes the discussion of only a few points which have been the matter of scientific controversy during the last few years; and into the text I have introduced only such matter as could be introduced without altering the structure of the work.

I am glad of this opportunity for expressing to the editor of the Nineteenth Century, Mr. James Knowles, my very best thanks, both for the kind hospitality which he offered to these papers in his review, as soon as he knew their general idea, and the permission he kindly gave me to reprint them.

Bromley, Kent, 1902.

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 year ago

Text

Rob Rogers

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 13, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JAN 14, 2024

Last night a woman and two children drowned in the Rio Grande that marks the border between the U.S. and Mexico near Eagle Pass, Texas.

U.S. Border Patrol agents knew that a group of six migrants were in distress in the river but could not try to save them, as they normally would, because troops from the Texas National Guard and the Texas Military Department prevented the Border Patrol agents from entering the area where they were struggling: Shelby Park, a 47-acre public park that offers access to a frequently traveled part of the river and is a place where Border Patrol agents often encounter migrants crossing the border illegally.

They could not enter because two days ago, on Thursday, Texas governor Greg Abbott sent armed Texas National Guard soldiers and soldiers from the Texas Military Department to take control of Shelby Park. Rolando Salinas, the mayor of Eagle Pass, posted a video on Facebook showing the troops and saying that a state official had told him that state troops were taking “full control” over Shelby Park “indefinitely.” Salinas made it clear that “[t]his is not something that we wanted. This is not something that we asked for as a city.”

The Texas forces have denied United States Border Patrol officials entry into the park to perform their duties, asserting that Texas officials have power over U.S. officials.

On December 18, Abbott signed into law S.B. 4, a measure that attempts to take into state hands the power over immigration the Constitution gives to the federal government. Courts have repeatedly reinforced that immigration is the responsibility of federal, not state, government, but now, according to Uriel J. García of the Texas Tribune, “some Texas Republicans have said they hope the new law will push the issue back before a U.S. Supreme Court that is more conservative since three appointees of former President Donald Trump joined it.”

On January 3 the Department of Justice filed a lawsuit against the new law, saying: “Texas cannot run its own immigration system. Its efforts, through S.B. 4, intrude on the federal government’s exclusive authority to regulate the entry and removal of noncitizens, frustrate the United States’ immigration operations and proceedings, and interfere with U.S. foreign relations.”

Abbott and MAGA Republicans are teeing up the issue of immigration as a key line of attack on President Joe Biden in 2024, but while they are insisting the issue is so important they will not agree to fund Ukraine’s resistance to Russia’s 2022 invasion until it is solved, they are also unwilling to participate in discussions to fund more border officers or immigration courts. Today, once again, Biden reminded reporters that he has asked Congress to pass new border measures since he took office, but rather than pass new laws, Republicans appear to be doubling down on pushing the idea that migrants threaten American society and that an individual state—Texas, in this case—can override federal authority.

Abbott has spent more than $100 million of Texas tax dollars to send migrants to cities led by Democrats. These migrants have applied for asylum and are waiting for a hearing; they are in the U.S. legally. In September 2023, Texas stopped coordinating with nonprofits in those cities that prepared for migrant arrivals.

Yesterday, Illinois governor J.B. Pritzker wrote to Abbott, calling him out for choosing “to sow chaos in an attempt to score political points.” Pritzker noted that Abbott is “sending asylum seekers from Texas to the Upper Midwest in the middle of winter—many without coats, without shoes to protect them from the snow—to a city whose shelters are already overfilled with migrants you sent here.” Chicago’s temperatures are set to drop below zero this weekend, Pritzker wrote, and he “strongly urge[d]” Abbott to stop sending people to Illinois in these conditions. “You are dropping off asylum seekers without alerting us to their arrivals, at improper locations at all hours of the night.”

Pritzker wrote that he supports bipartisan immigration reform but “[w]hile action is pending at the federal level, I plead with you for mercy for the thousands of people who are powerless to speak for themselves. Please, while winter is threatening vulnerable people’s lives, suspend your transports and do not send more people to our state. We are asking you to help prevent additional deaths. We should be able to come together in a bipartisan fashion to urge Congress to act. But right now, we are talking about human beings and their survival. I hope we can at least agree on saving lives right now.”

Speaking on the right-wing Dana Loesch Show last week, Abbott said, “The only thing that we’re not doing is we’re not shooting people who come across the border, because of course the Biden administration would charge us with murder.”

On January 13, 1833, President Andrew Jackson wrote to Vice President–elect Martin van Buren to explain his position on South Carolina’s recent assertion that sovereign states could overrule federal laws. “Was this to be permitted the government would lose the confidence of its citizens and it would induce disunion everywhere. No my friend, the crisis must be now met with firmness, our citizens protected, and the modern doctrine of nullification and secession put down forever…. [N]othing must be permitted to weaken our government at home or abroad,” he wrote.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Immigration #migrants #migration #Texas #history #Federal Law #vulnerable people #J.B. Pritzker #Abbot

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sroloc--elbisivni · 1 year ago

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Ok you win! You win, I read your amazing RotTMNT AU and now I want to know more about Usagi Yojimbo!!! Do you have any recommendations and also I would love to read your bibliography for that fic 😭🙏 your writing is ~superb~ it's so poetic and evocative aaaagh

GOT ANOTHER ONE, BOYS

welcome!! welcome!! come on in. Usagi canon isn't actually as intimidating as it looks--and I'm not saying this in the way often applicable to comics where that means 'only one flowchart is required to understand the reading order.' i think. There's only one major continuity, and two spinoffs in Space Usagi and Senso,* neither of which is required to understand the main order. Each issue is often overwhelmingly self-contained, so you can really pick up anything and start reading. The split comes in where the series being published at like. four different companies over the years. means that there are different publishing rights that change the way stuff comes out. technically we're at 38 trade volumes. thinking of it like that is the way madness lies.

The bulk of the series is collected in The Usagi Yojimbo Saga, a 10-volume set published out of Dark Horse. Each one is about as thick as a phonebook. This is not the beginning of the series, it technically starts with the overall series' volume 8, Shades of Death, but the first book of the Saga has a 4-page intro comic at the beginning that does very well setting the scene. This is where I started. I still think it's a great place to start because it's fun to go back to the origins with all the knowledge of the later books behind them. (Books 1-9 are in sequence; Usagi Yojimbo: Legends collects Senso, Space Usagi, and Yokai)

If you want to start at the very beginning, you need to look for Usagi Yojimbo, vol. 1: The Ronin. After Volume 7, Gen's Story, everything's published in the Saga.

The beginnings of the series are also collected in Usagi Yojimbo: Origins, which is a recent republishing of the early comics in full color. They've got four volumes--Volume 1,** Wanderer's Road, The Dragon Bellow Conspiracy, and Lone Goat and Kid. If you start here, you'll be switching over to series Vol. 6, Circles, after LGaK.

Once you get through the Saga, you're into IDW publishing territory, which so far has 5 trade volumes--Bunraku and Other Stories, Homecoming, Tengu War!, Crossroads, and The Green Dragon. That brings you up to the Ice and Snow issues, which just started publishing in September.

But quite honestly, given that the overall premise of the series is 'watch this man wander around the early Edo period experiencing Problems,' I really do think you can start anywhere in the grand tradition of 'what's at the library/comic shop' and have a good idea of the series.*** Have fun!

*Technically Chibi Usagi is a separate continuity, but I feel disingenuous putting it in the same category as Senso.

**No, it doesn't have a name. Yes, really.

***tbh between stories that are told As Flashbacks and how only about half the stories have things that squarely indicate exactly what the previous story was, I tend to assume that it goes in non-chronological order unless a story contains evidence otherwise. this opinion has gotten me booed. but i stand by it.

#thank you for your nice words!!!! i wanted to do something for the anniversary of sorrow so i'll put the bibliography in a separate post #usagi yojimbo #uy reading order #letsgetempirical #talky talk

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queenoffishingandcookies · 3 months ago

Text

Thinking of Noctis is Tenebrae.

Specially, when he was in Tenebrae.

Noctis was born on August 30th, and was eight years old during his time in Tenebrae.

Lunafreya, who was born on September 4th, was twelve.

Considering the main game generally takes place over the course of a year (I think? Don’t quote me on this, all I know canonically is that it starts May), in the year of M.E 756 and he visited twelve years prior:

M.E 744.

I’d guess very late winter, early spring. Possibly late January through February - maybe to early or mid March, at the latest.

Why so early in the year?

In the Kingsglaive movie, the prologue when we see the fall of Tenebrae and Queen Sylva’s murder, several characters are wearing clothes that seem suited to chilly weather - namely Ravus, Lunafreya, and Noctis.

Ravus and Noctis are, respectively, wearing a padded jacket or padded vest. The puffy sort you wear when it’s getting cold out, but not big-puffy full blown winter coats.

Also, Lunafreya is wearing a shawl or capelet with a hood, and it looks like it has a fur collar(?). Her dress looks, at least to me, like a thick fabric - wool, maybe. She’s not wearing stocking or leggings (or maybe she is and I didn’t notice), so again, it’s not winter-levels of cold.

There’s no snow either, which means either it’s before winter has fallen or afterwards - and I am inclined to believe the latter.

(That’s dependent on the general climate of Tenebrae, though)

We don’t know when Noctis was attacked, except that it was after he turned eight years old - in other words, some point after august. Possibly early September 743 at the earliest, and March - July 744 at the latest, since he was out catching fireflies, which usually appear most often in spring and summer.

We know he was comatose for a period of time following the attack, but not how long.

He possibly had been afflicted by the starscourge in canon (I don’t know if this was ever confirmed).

We also know he was paralyzed, or his body was still recovering from his injuries to the point where he was still wheelchair bound in Tenebrae.

My idea is this:

Noctis is attacked some time in late M.E 743. He is rushed into emergency surgery in an attempt to save his life, no doubt after Regis had used his magic to keep the Prince alive on the way to the nearest hospital (he’d probably be transferred to the Citadel later? He woke up in the citadel in Brotherhood, at least).

Noctis is possibly comatose for a month, maybe two. As a result of lack of movement, his muscles - on top of the damage done to back and legs - begin to atrophy.

(The symptoms of starscourge infection are stymied, because starscourge adapts differently to the body of a Lucis Caelum, and makes Noct effectively asymptomatic for a time).

When he wakes up, and probably even before that, immediate therapy begins. When possible, rehabilitation in regards to spinal cord injuries begin as soon as possible, I believed.

For a time, I think it would be…not okay, not happy, but workable. Regis would be there every step of the way, and if not him - a team of nurses and doctors ever on standby.

But at some point during his rehabilitation, from the Acute and Sub-Acute phases which will stretch over into the new year, which can generally (and I mean this broadly, every spinal injury and situation is different) take around six to eight months, he begins to show signs of the starscourge.

Regis can’t do anything to help with the appearance of the scourge, and then the realization that it must have been there for a while, that this was why Noctis’ healing was so slow - even, and especially, compared to a normal person.

The crystal, the LC magic, would have been straining to heal him - but it was almost sluggish, unfocused, as it coursed through Noctis’ body.

Regis could feed Noctis magic, take the burden of how it pulled at one’s lifeforce so that his son already so close to death did not have to.

He couldn’t take away the scourge which corrupted his son’s magic, which was just as much as the family’s magic eating away at his son’s life. The doctor’s could give estimations and exams and exercises on how to help Noctis walk again, if he ever could, and even an inability to do so was not an impossible fact - not in the long history of the bloodline -

But the starscourge?

Sooner or later, it was fatal. Regis knew of no known member in the bloodline who had gotten it - most who died to daemons died outright in battle, or as a result of injuries, long before the scourge could set in and take them - but no one had ever survived the scourge.

And only one bloodline could do anything against it.

The House of Fleuret, The Oracle.

And that meant heading to Tenebrae. Even if it was an autonomous ‘kingdom’, Tenebrae had long since been annexed by Niflheim - just like Accordo.

To bring Noctis there would be like to deliver all of Lucis into the jaws of a snarling best.

If it had simply been Noctis’ back and legs maybe, maybe Regis wouldn’t have done it. It’s a big maybe, considering how much he loves his son, but maybe.

Starscourge, though?

Hell no, it’s off to Tenebrae. They have to fucking go. It doesn’t matter how dangerous it is, to go through imperial Territory. Noctis might die either way.

A route to reach Tenebrae has to be made, means for the two of them to leave the wall unknown, then travel to Tenebrae still unknown, also having Lucis ruled well - all the while, trying to keep Noctis as stable as possible? Things like that take time.

So, they arrive in Tenebrae some point in early 744. My personal headcanon is that the two are there for maybe a few months, around March, and then Niflheim strikes and everything subsequently goes to hell. It has to be before his ninth birthday.

#ffxv #random timeline thoughts #(this was actually from months ago and I just never posted it)

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fuckyeahtx · 1 year ago

Text

January 13, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JAN 14

Last night a woman and two children drowned in the Rio Grande that marks the border between the U.S. and Mexico near Eagle Pass, Texas.

The Texas forces have denied United States Border Patrol officials entry into the park to perform their duties, asserting that Texas officials have power over U.S. officials.

#abbott is satan

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meimi-haneoka · 1 year ago

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Thank you Cinzia! I seriously need to check my notifications more. I didn't even realise that you had answered my ask. Loved your timeline and fanfics. I completely get what you are saying about writing fanfic. It kind of just flows out when you are that invested in a pairing. Also, that CCS in Public domain ask.... if I am not wrong, Japan seems to have a different approach to it. I mean I have seen doujinshis and light novels being sold legally featuring (and being advertised with) CCS characters. I am not sure but it seems that is legal in Japan? Not sure of all this but I assure you that I have come across some R18 doujinshis featuring Junior High aged SyaoSaku. The horror...... Also, I didn't realise that Akiho and Sakura had lived together as sisters for 5 months post Alice in Clockland. I mean, they all don't look much different (I kind of presumed that it had been just a bunch of weeks, like autumn is over and winter has begun). Frankly, they should be nearer to the heights in the final chapter of OG CCS manga if the second year is about to begin (since Sakura and Syaoran were reunited in the beginning of the second year of JHS in the OG manga). Oh well, I will just chalk it down to art style change.

Thank you so much for reading my drabbles and finally check my timeline, Aubretia!! 😁I'm glad in the end it worked for you! ✨

About the doujinshi matter, hehe, it's not that simple. From what I know, doujinshi are considered 二次創作, "derivative works", and as such technically they aren't legal, if they don't have the authorization of the author. Often fanartists who produce doujinshi also produce what we call "fan merch", like printing their art on acrylic keychains, stickers, acrylic stands and such. Those fall into the category too. However, in the industry there is an unspoken agreement that such works are "tolerated" by copyright holders as long as the price they're sold at can be proven as a mere "reimbursement of the cost" to produce such merch (like the printing cost for the doujinshi/anthologies and the manufacturing cost for other items). Basically, the fanartists don't have to earn money from this (or I guess the don't have to earn too much). Usually artists print a definite amount of copies to sell at conventions and a definite amount to sell online, so it doesn't "become too much" and attracts "too much attention" from the copyright holders. These are tolerated only because it turns into further promotion for the IP, so of course the fanartists need to know their place and not overdo it. So it's not legal, but it is common practice to "close an eye" on it (and yes, this means that there's literally anything, as you pointed out, out there).

For Akiho and Sakura living together, yeah it's more or less from 4 to 5 months! I calculated this from the fact that when the play started, they had barely changed into their winter uniform at school, and usually that happens on a set date in Japan, on October 1st. Now, in the chapter of the play (63) you can see lots of people attending the school festival, and many of them wear short sleeves, while other wear mid or long sleeves. This definitely made me think that there were still quite nice temperatures so it probably wasn't in late October but rather at the beginning of it (I even thought it might have been September and they changed uniforms early). When Kaito activated the forbidden magic, things continued exactly from where they were left off before he brought Sakura and Akiho to Clockland, so when we come back in chapter 70 it's still everything on the same day of the play. And then, when we see how things are going for them in chapter 71, we see everyone wearing the "super winter uniform", as I jokingly call it, along with coats, scarves, gloves, it's even snowing at some point! And they also say that "soon" Sakura is going to become a second year student at Tomoeda Middle school, so I had already pinpointed the month when all of this was happening as end of February. When the last chapter dropped, turns out I was right, because just 4 days after the "last battle" Akiho says she would've left Tomoeda one month later, and when we see her and Kaito on their departure day, cherry blossoms are starting to bloom, so that means that they are at the end of March. So, in short, Sakura and Akiho spent as sisters an indefinite part of October, all of November, December, January and all of February together before they realized what the heck was happening. Yeah, it's all a matter of looking around you and observing "the silent hints" (isn't all of Clear Card like that, after all?) and you can get a lot of the context. 😉👍

And oh, I absolutely don't suggest to take any of the OG manga panels as a reference for the heights and such because back then CLAMP's style was very different. They tended to make their characters so tall (and their legs so long!) especially when they had to indicate that kids had grown up. Their chins were more pointy, the shoulders wider (I always laugh when I look back to Syaoran with those wide shoulders)...yeah it was something completely different. Now Mokona sensei respects body proportions a lot more and I also have to say that the poses of her characters are more natural and not "stiff" as they were before. I also love how more expressive they've become. I do agree though that if she could make them a tiny bit taller it would be better. This is something that I've constantly "complained" about during the serialization.

Besides, I always understood that Sakura and Syaoran were in their first year at Tomoeda Middle school, at the end of the OG manga? Cause Sakura says "my brother is going to poke fun at me oversleeping even though I've become a middle schooler!" so it suggests that the change had just happened? Well, Clear Card is its sequel and it starts exactly like the last pages of volume 12, with an "extended version" of the finale, so I think that the kids being in 1st year of middle school is what CLAMP had always intended since 2000.

#reply #clear card arc #ccsakura

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coolitsriver · 1 year ago

Text

the hardest goodbye | self.

when: helping hands care home

where: september 15th, 2023, at 7:15 pm

triggers: death, mentions the word 'hospital' once

description: river says goodbye to his favourite resident at helping hands care home.

River's alarm clock blinked at 6:30 AM, and he groaned as he forced himself out of bed. It was another work day at the Helping Hands Care Home, and as much as River would rather stay home with his girlfriend and their animals, he was ready to tackle today's shift. He had been working at Helping Hands for a few years now, it was a job that he'd always planned to be temporary. He'd stay for a summer and then find something else. However, months turned into years. River fell in love with the rewards of the job and its residents but there was one resident in particular who had captured his heart—Poppy.

Poppy, an 88-year-old woman with snow-white dreads and a mischievous glint in her eyes, had been at Helping Hands for as long as River could remember. She had a vivacity that seemed out of place in a care home. River often said she was a timeless beauty, and she teased him about his endless charm. Their bond was more than just caregiver and resident; it was a genuine friendship. River had never had a motherly figure in his life and Poppy had never been given the opportunity to bear children. In a way. they fulfilled positions in one another's lives. If you asked Poppy, she'd tell you she had a son. Just not a blood-related one.

It was bright and early when River started making his rounds. He always left Poppy til last so that he could spend extra time with her without worrying about other residents needing his help. He smiled to himself when he made it to her room, knocking once before entering. She was in the same place as always, her rocking chair by the window - glasses on and a newspaper in hand. "Morning, flower."

Poppy looked up from her crossword puzzle, her eyes twinkling. "Ah, River, my handsome boy. Come, help me with this tricky word."

As they spent the morning wrestling with crossword clues and sharing stories, River couldn't help but admire Poppy's spirit. She had lived a full life, filled with adventures, love, and heartbreak. Her resilience had become an inspiration to him, and he was grateful for every moment they spent together. River would often sit with Poppy, reading her favourite novels or playing her cherished old records. Sometimes, they would take strolls in the beautifully landscaped gardens around Helping Hands, and Poppy would share tales of her youth—dancing under the stars, traveling the world, and falling in love. He'd tell her about what was going on in his life. About his family, his friends - she was the first person he'd told when he realised he'd fallen in love with Cleo. Poppy had even gotten him birthday cards to give to his family and friends - remembering every person who meant something to River. For, in a way, they now meant something to her.

River wished he'd met Poppy earlier in his life, for maybe things could've been different for him if he had. Still, he reminds himself that everything he'd gone through had led them to meet. However, he still wished he had. For he would've been able to have more time with Poppy. Because, life has its seasons, and as autumn leaves fell, so did Poppy's health. Her visits to the hospital became more frequent, and River was by her side through it all, holding her hand during those long nights, and offering comfort with a reassuring smile.

It was a cold September evening when River was on shift. He was where he always was - in Poppy's room with her Mighty Sparrow record on. She'd always embraced her Trini culture and River loved to learn more. Thus, how they found themselves here, River and Poppy dancing together.

"My boy, I don't know how you learned to move your hips like this. Even in my 20s, men couldn't move that freely."

"I have a pretty good teacher, what can I say?"

"Well, your girlfriend is very lucky."

"Oi, down girl."

They both laughed at that before it was abruptly cut off by the sound of Poppy's coughs - stopping their dance as she struggled to keep standing. All sense of joy left the room, River quickly wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her bed. As soon as he was sure she was safely in, he went to turn off the record player.

"Well, didn't that just kill the damn mood?" Poppy tried to joke through her coughs. River made his way to her side, picking up a glass of water for her to help her drink.

"That's alright. We can try again tomorrow." River said confidently, almost as if he was avoiding the decline in her health recently. Avoiding the truth that tomorrow for them wasn't promised. Still, he chose to avoid that thought because he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to be without her.

Poppy smiled, though it didn't meet her eyes. Almost as if she knew. "I suppose." She got out, letting her body relax and lying propped up in bed. She settled, glancing over at her favourite helper. "River, you've brought so much light into my life. And I've lived a long, beautiful life, so, that's saying something." She teased while looking lovingly at the young man. "I adore you, you know that?"

"Course I do." River smiled, taking her hand into his to gently squeeze. "Where's all this coming from?"

"I just wanted to say it," Poppy admitted. Usually, she'd have some playful quip to say in response. But, not today. Again, it's like she knew they wouldn't have tomorrow. "You've been my rock, my confidant, and my friend. You deserve the world, my boy. I know you don't want to be at this home forever. You have your movies to make and a life to live. I just want you to live a long and beautiful life like I did."

"I'll have plenty of time to make movies. I'm not leaving while you're still here." He kissed the back of her hand. "This is where I wanna be right now. I promise."

Poppy smiled sadly, she had learned that about River over the time she'd gotten to know him. He had a habit of putting everyone before himself. She hoped one day, he'd do something purely for himself. "Put yourself first for once, you idiot." She teased him before shaking her head. She motioned to her bedside table, "Well, as you're here, make yourself useful. I've got $15 in there - can you go to the store to get me a lottery ticket?"

River rolled his eyes, opening the drawer to take out the money. "88 years old and still doing the lottery. Shameful." He teased before he got up properly. "But, of course. You want anything else?"

"Just that, thanks." She watched as River walked to the doorway. She grinned, "I want you to bring back all of my change, you hear? Not a penny less."

"Yes ma'am." He teased, winking at her for the final time before he walked out towards the staff room to grab his jacket and car keys. He wasn't really meant to do secret store visits for residents but Poppy was always the exception.

It wasn't more than 20 minutes later that River made it back to Helping Hands. Quickly jumping out of the car, he made his way inside - wanting to deliver Poppy her lottery ticket before his supervisor or any one of his colleagues realised he was gone. Making his descent down to Poppy's room, he was shocked to find several employees and his supervisor outside Poppy's room and in her doorway. The sight of it scared him, his pace picking up.

"What's going on?" River asked worried. There was only one reason why he'd ever seen everyone gathered like this outside of a resident's room before and it wasn't for any good reason. His supervisor, Kim, walked out of Poppy's room at the same time he asked. The look on her face said it all.

"River," Kim started, "I'm really sorry. I'm not sure how to tell you this." She started, watching the colour draining from River's face with every word she spoke. "One of the nurses went to check on Poppy to give her evening meds and she was ... gone by the time they came in. She's passed away, Riv."

"N-No. No, that can't be. I-I was just with her. She was fine! She was tired but she was fine!" River knew his tone was getting louder, he really hadn't meant it to. But, all he felt at this moment was panic and disbelief. "Are you sure-"

"The home's doctor called it. Workers from the medical center are coming within the hour to take her to the mortuary." Kim and everyone at Helping Hands knew just how devastating this news was going to be for River. Everyone knew just how special the bond River and Poppy had. And everyone also knew how devastated he'd be that he wasn't with her when she passed. "Do you want to spend some time with her? I'll get everyone to clear out so you can have some space. Say your ... goodbyes."

He still couldn't believe this was happening. "I-uh-" He stuttered, a rare moment of River McGrath being completely speechless. "... Y-yes." was all he could get out. He watched in slow motion as Kim ushered everyone away, leaving him standing next to the open doorway of Poppy's room. He was scared, truthfully. To walk inside and see her so lifeless. However, he knew he had no choice in the matter. He had to say goodbye, to deliver her lottery ticket one last time. He took a deep breath and made his way inside.

The silence was eerie. All her belongings and items were left as he'd last seen them. His eyes finally made it to her bed, Poppy lying in bed peacefully above the covers with her eyes closed. She looked like she was sleeping, but the closer he got to her, the more he realised she'd lost all life and colour already.

"You couldn't have waited til I got back, huh?" He teased, feeling the shock transform slowly into sadness and grief. "I brought back all your change. $3.50. Not a penny less, like you said. What if this is finally the time you win the lottery and you die? You have the worst timing."

He placed the lottery ticket and change on her bedside table before he sat next to her. "You would've laughed at that." He uttered like a whisper. "Please laugh." His voice broke. The reality started to settle in and River, vowing to always hold back his tears, let the floodgates loose.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here." He sobbed quietly, taking her frail hand into his own. "I'm not ready to lose you, Pop. I feel like I have so much more I had to learn from you. I had so much I wanted to say." He rambled, "I just ... I wish we had more time. I wish you were in my life sooner. You've been the mother I've never had. I'm never gonna be able to thank you enough for that."

He sniffled, "I love you. I know you wouldn't want me to be sad but fuck, I'm gonna miss you terribly." He let out a chuckle through his tears. "Your strength and grace will always leave me in awe. You were such a bright person and I really do hope there's some sort of afterlife cause I don't wanna believe I'll never see you again." He kissed the back of her hand, letting himself lean down to rest his head against her body. He held her, sobbed, and allowed himself to grieve the loss of a remarkable woman. He knew there was no future for him at Helping Hands after this, having meant what he said that he wasn't going anywhere if she was still here.

"This is the worst fucking pain I've ever felt in my life but it's worth it from having you in my life even for a short amount of time." He whispered gently to her. "You'll never understand how much our bond meant to me. I hope I did the same for you, flower."

As River sobbed, sobbed, and sobbed, he came to understand that Poppy's gift to him was not just their friendship but the realization that love and compassion have the power to transcend generations. And in the heart of the Helping Hands Care Home, a river of compassion continued to flow, connecting lives, memories, and the enduring legacy of a remarkable woman named Poppy.

#self;#tw: death #|| aaaaaaa this is so sad yall ||#|| but I had it planned for ages - it had to happen ||

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