#its not a resolution i intend to keep but i would like to try and actively be fine with days where i just do nothing

[treeprince]

first day of a new year and i am not leaving this bed til 12 noon

[group-dynamic]

*SCREECHING*

I was watching this lovely, bittersweet edit highlighting the short, tragic friendship between Celebrimbor and Elrond as they're portrayed in the Rings of Power, and it got me reflecting (as many of us have) on the prophesy, "My father foresaw that one day Celebrimbor's life would be in my hands" and how it's too bad there wasn't anything that felt like a weighty resolution to that thread. Like, to have a prophesy directly from the foresight of Eärendil that's first mentioned in season one and invented for the show feels so significant to be used merely as a device to compound Elrond's failure, you know? The prophesy works well as foreshadowing and elevates the tragic impact of Elrond's role as commander and his inability to defend Eregion, but that feels so distant to the idiom "life in his hands." Especially since Elrond isn't even in sight of Celebrimbor's death, so how could his life really be so directly in his hands--

IT'S THE RING.

THE RINGS.

Elrond's only direct acts related to "saving" Celebrimbor on screen is trying to save his records and his city, aka the lore and legacy around him. And that fails. The records are burned, the city is reduced to rubble, the smith's greatest achievements are corrupted and certainly going to be twisted further to some evil purpose in Sauron's hands.

And Elrond's been so certain that those rings are corrupted, including the elven rings (which for a while are the only rings the Lindon elves know of in the show). But then suddenly those elven rings are all that's left of Celebrimbor's legacy and in the first and last episode of the season they're LITERALLY in Elrond's hands. When he jumps from the cliff trying to keep them from his friends, and when he finally picks one up and uses it for good--for its intended, healing purpose. I mean, Elrond future lore master has Celebrimbro's life story in his hands. He has Celebrimbor's life's work in his hands, and all the parts of himself and his craft he poured into those rings.

And one day Elrond will literally be one of the bearers and wielders of Celebrimbor's life work and legacy. Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhh==

"His life in his hands" indeed.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Implications, Possessive and aggressive behavior ) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: I will be going on a HIATUS for a few weeks. Work is switching over tech this week to new software I need to learn, and then next week is my one year anniversary with my husband. We are going to swim with dolphins at Discovery Cove in Florida! I’m excited, but I’ll be writing in my free time and banking chapters so everyone will have more regular Wednesday updates when I return. Until then, thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting up to this point. You all mean the world to me ❤️

Chapter 10: Bad Words, Bad Feelings

Noa

When she turned, the look in her eyes had him wanting to kneel on all fours in submission. Ridiculous. He was Master of Birds, he submitted to no one. Anaya did not have the same title as him, actively looking down and shuffling back a step. He would have teased him for it, for his submission to an Echo, if the next step she took did not have him questioning his own assurance. He fought his spine’s urge to bend, remaining upright by sheer will.

Her anger was somewhat confusing, but it became clearer as she demanded, “Is that what I am to you? A pest?”

Ah. That seemed to be the cause of her mood shift. He tried to explain the situation, hoping to calm her, “Humans are…considered pests…to my clan…they have never met…a good Echo…that could speak.”

Unfortunately, this did the opposite of what he had intended. She took another step towards him, hands balled into fists at her sides. He knew she was not foolish enough to try to fight him, let alone hit him, but the idea itself was amusing to think about. He recalled her nails digging into his shoulders a few days ago, that was probably the most pain she could inflict on him if she tried. Still, he had seen that look in her eyes once before. Only once, during a time in his life that seemed so long ago now. It was when Mae had killed Lightening, using her human weapon to save Soona. It was angry, it was resolute, and there was a trace of fear behind it all.

“If we’re such pests, and you had to convince your elders, then why even bring me?” She asked, shuffling in place as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to take another step forward or go back.

“I had…no choice,” he admitted. “You…saved my life…you..spend time with…Master of Birds…but do not…show yourself…makes apes…uneasy.”

“No choice…” she muttered, looking away from him and back towards the village.

He could see many expressions dance across her face, her eyes distant as she seemed to be thinking on his words. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he could not say. He noticed the muscle along her jaw become more prominent, before her head snapped back to him like a cobra strike, eyes holding heat worse than fire. This time, he did flinch back. It was scary, how Echos could be calm and docile, then turn like a wild animal ready to defend its existence. He did not understand it.

Her voice raised, louder than he had heard it before, “No choice? There’s always a choice! There should always be a choice. What frustrates me the most about this, is you say you didn’t have one, but I know that’s not true! You’re the Master of Birds, no one…higher than me, remember? You expect me to believe you didn’t have a choice?”

He could not meet her eye, casting his gaze downwards. He had a choice. Of course he did…though it really did not feel like one. He had responsibilities now, he was no longer a youngling. He could not keep running off with his Sunset Brother and Sister to visit a strange Echo as if his life had no purpose. The clan demanded more of him, they needed a leader who was present. Anaya and Soona deserved better from their leader too, having to assist him on days they did not see you to make up for the days they did. They each would hunt and gather food equal to three apes, while he tended to eagles and prepared for Big Climbs of this season’s apes.

Though she also assisted with gathering, there was only so much an Echo and three horses could carry. It would be better if he could bring a larger party, but that meant not seeing his Echo, or worse, scaring her. That is what it came down to. He was choosing her comfort- choosing her, over his clan. If she could just meet them, maybe even be accepted as part of his clan, then he would not have to choose. There would be no choice.

The elders of course, were the cause of this. They learned of his meetings with an Echo, smelling her on him when he returned from their visit to the library. They ‘advised’ him to either chase her away, to avoid further distraction, or present her to them so that they may learn her scent and know her. She was not a threat of course, so that should be no problem. The real problem was, if her first exposure to apes of the clan after everything she had been through was the elders, then she would never come back. The elders were…elders. They would not treat her with the respect she deserved immediately, if at all. They still did not care for Humans. Mae certainly had not helped his cause either. He thought his mother, the younglings, and a few apes only a season or two younger than him might be enough to sway her opinion in a positive favor towards his clan.

She scoffed, his continued silence stretching too long for her liking. “I knew it. And when we first met you accused me of being a liar.”

“I did not…lie.” He growled, gaze jumping back to hers. He made sure his canines were not bared, anger creeping up on him now as he confessed, “The other option…was not a choice…I had to…think of my clan.”

“Of course! Oh, and since we’re on the subject of choice,” she was quick to add. “Were you going to give me a choice? You didn’t think it might be important to tell me that you were blindly leading me to your village of apes?”

Shame burned the pit of his stomach, knowing he was untrue when it came to this. She was right, and oh, how he hated it. Still, he could only argue, “Thought…it would be better…if I did not…if you could…only meet apes.”

“I have met apes, Noa.” She hissed, teeth bared now as she paced towards him, stopping with only a few inches separating them.

Any other time, he would enjoy being this close, her scent becoming this familiar yet ever changing thing that he had memorized countless versions of. It brought comfort to him, certain scents of hers calling forth memories he had shared with her in private. He did not understand how or why her scent was not constant, but he decided he did not dislike it. At present, her being this close, hissing and baring her teeth? Her scent was an unwelcome distraction, forcing him to fight the natural instinct to bare his own canines and force her to yield to him. He did not like this feeling of having to defend himself from her. It was not natural, as an ape or as her companion.

“You know I’ve met apes before. You also know what they took from me, and what that has done to me.” She continued, voice lowering. It was softer in volume, but harder in tone, like it was coming from the back of her throat. It sounded hurt. “You know this, because I told you. I told you because I trusted you. I have never trusted an ape like I trusted you. That’s because you were never like them, Noa. Never. Not once.”

He felt his own rising anger cool and mellow, hearing her praise him even while hurt by his actions. She wasn’t done though, “Today was different…you were different. Instead of setting yourself apart like you always do, instead of being the Noa I’ve come to know…you took the choice away from me. You decided for me because you believed that you knew better. This is why I live alone, no one gets to make decisions for me. Especially not an ape.”

“Trying to fix…” He began, but she cut him off.

“You don’t get to argue this!” She said, raising a finger to point at him, “Just because I trusted you, doesn’t mean you suddenly get to make decisions for me. You’re trying to fix something that’s not broken! The way I react, the way I am, it’s what keeps me alive! But why am I surprised? This is the way apes are. With enough power and time, you and your clan will become just like them.”

The words stung, and he gritted his teeth, lips pulled down as far as he could over them, “Not..true.”

“No?” She questioned, “How are you any different? You and your clan already see humans as pests, something lesser than you, to be chased away. Do you think that’s any different from how they saw me?”

A part of him recoiled on the inside, remembering similar words he had spoken to Raka regarding Echos. He did not know then, but he knew now, and that is not how he saw her. “You are not lesser…but you are…alone…you do not have to be…apes in clan would…welcome you.”

“You think so?” She challenged.

“Know…they would.” He replied, “Anaya…and Soona did.”

Her eyes cut then to Anaya, who was swaying on his feet, arms tucked into his chest, taking in everything happening around him. He looked as if he wanted to leave, but also would not tear himself away from their Echo while she was upset. He had become strangely loyal to her…though maybe he was not the only one. Her gaze returned to him, something underlying in her tone as she argued, “Not every ape is like Anaya and Soona.”

“Come and…see for yourself.” He tried, grasping for her. His palm connected with hers, and he had just started to curl his fingers around her wrist, when she swiftly ripped her hand away. She avoided his touch, a first for them, and took several steps back, completely out of his reach. He saw her overlap both arms across her chest, hiding her hands away from him within the crook of her elbows.

It was another sting, but he refused to chase after her. “You said…did not give you…a choice…I chose…because I know…you would have…chosen to run…like you always do.”

Her eyes went almost comically wide before narrowing, “Excuse me?”

“You are…afraid.” He continued, thinking he could potentially goad her into following him. “Ridiculous…dumb…Eagle Clan…would not harm you…yet Echo is…scared…so scared…always scared…of apes…jumbled.”

With every word her breathing increased, hands clenching and jaw tightening. Anaya, seeing the same thing he did, grunted, “Noa…stop.”

He raised his arms, keeping them wide as he challenged, “Prove…wrong.”

She stood there, unblinking as she stared him down. He thought she would march back up the hill, so strong willed and stubborn when she wanted to be. A few more silent moments passed before she finally decided to respond. He could not have predicted the next words out of her mouth.

“No.” She said, no anger or malice in her tone. It was flat, emotionless. That scared him.

His arms bent, lowering slowly as he parroted, confused, “No?”

Her steps were strong, purposeful, her shoulders back and head raised as she devoured the distance she had placed between them. Though her movements were not threatening by any means, he tried to keep some space between them, feeling his breath become heavy in his chest when a tree suddenly met his back. There was something about her now, this new stance, that made his own mind jumbled. He forced himself to focus as she spoke, “No. I do not have to prove anything to you, I owe you absolutely nothing. Not my time, not my attention, not my life, and certainly not my trust.”

His brows furrowed, “You…would rather run away…than trust my clan…trust that I…would not let anything…happen to you?”

Her words were scathing as she answered. “Let me explain this to you in a way your chimp brain can understand. I want nothing to do with your clan…or you, Master of Birds.”

“Echo does not…mean that.” Anaya interjected, finally stepping forward and somewhat in between the two of them. “Echo is…upset…Noa is wrong.”

He huffed at that, “Echo thinks…but it is true…she will always…be afraid…if she runs now.”

She pivoted around Anaya as he attempted to edge her away from him. “What are you trying to accomplish here? Do you think I’ll meet your clan and just forget what happened to me? Or are you naïve enough to think your clan will suddenly accept an Echo pest because you told them to? I’m not an ape!”

“As good as,” he countered.

She scoffed, “Is that meant to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Only human…would think being called ape…is an insult.” He snorted, realizing how this was the first time in a very long while he referred to her as a human and not an Echo. When he had actually begun to separate the two terms, he was not sure. “Having the mark…will be enough…for most to…accept you.”

Her hand rose to her crown, eyes narrowing in what he believed was confusion, “The mark is enough? Why? Because there is no other ape who currently has it?”

He puffed out air from his cheeks and rolled his eyes at that, “Echo is naïve…there has never been…anything other than ape…to wear the mark.”

“So, what?” She shrugged, “I’m the first Echo, that doesn’t change anything.”

“Changes everything!” He snarled, the fact she didn’t understand the importance of her situation frustrated him. “You are not only first Echo…but first outsider to wear it…only meant for apes…of the Eagle Clan...symbol of belonging...stronger than…my word as leader…cannot be undone…once honor has been granted…that is why…I did not want to give it…in the first place.”

There was silence, her body almost going slack, allowing Anaya to push her back a few steps with ease. She looked surprised, as if a tree limb had smacked her during a climb, one she did not see. He had seen that look many times before. Even Anaya, noticing her expression, simply let his hands rest on her arm. She was far enough away now not to be considered a challenge, his mind reeling before quickly righting itself. He knew better, with humans, they were more of a challenge when they were silent than when they spoke. He waited for another turn, for her to lash out when the shock wore off.

“That’s why Soona and Anaya…” she trailed off. “Why give it to me then? You didn’t want to, and it’s not as if I was aware of what it meant.”

Still, she did not understand! She was important to Anaya and Soona, and whether he liked it or not, she was important to him. She was not an ape and she was not part of his clan, but with her defense of them from the boar, she had earned it. There were witnesses, and Soona had called upon him as a worthy leader to bestow it. He had been unsure when both Soona and Anaya pushed for the honor to be bestowed. It was not as simple as it being against The Law, that would have made his argument easy, it had never been done before! He believed it impossible.

To make it possible, he had practically re-written The Law for her. His first true act as leader; not to present a new birth to the clan, or celebrate a completed bonding of ape and eagle, but to bestow the mark of Eagle Protector on an Echo! The elders passed must have felt great shame- it was completely against ape tradition. He was more ashamed that he was not more true when the time came. He tried, but when Anaya had asked him to vocalize the reason for his refusal, he could not. He was too afraid that to say she was not ape, would hurt her. Ridiculous. She was not, she said it herself just now.

It was his own jumbled spirit that lead to his decision to honor her. He had been terrified for her safety when she had taken his horse and engaged in battle with the boar. He felt helpless, Anaya and Soona too far away to coordinate with, and no trees for him to use to assist her if she needed it. He owed her his life already, but more than that, there was a fire inside of him that screamed out that she was his to protect, and he was hers. It had been a dull sound in the back of his mind since they met, which became louder the more time he spent with her. It had reached deafening heights when he saw her body hit the ground and then go still, blocking out everything else around him as he ran to her.

He had been so angry, and so relieved to see that she was mostly fine. He was more impressed by her display of capability, that he knew that to not honor her would be wrong. It had soothed that fire inside him, to see her wearing his mark, but that same screaming terror returned when he could not wake her later that night. The only thing he had been able to think about while she slept was what would have happened if she had been alone in the same situation. She was so smart, protecting and providing for herself, which was appealing, very admirable in an Echo alone. It was not suitable. She needed someone to take care of her, to provide for her, at least in times when she was sick or injured. She was more than worthy of a capable mate to live out her days with. Someone should take care of her.

“Noa!” She snapped, pulling him from his thoughts. He was no closer to understanding the right thing to say as she looked at him. Her eyes were full of hurt and betrayal, her body looking as if it was on the verge of collapse. “Answer me. Tell me why!”

“Sh-Shelter is not…home.” He began, carefully. He did not want to be at odds with her, and he did not want to hurt her. He needed her to understand, to know that what he did, he did with good intentions. “Echo would be…difficult to accept…apes do not trust…Echo for…good reason…but if Echo arrived…wearing mark of Eagle clan…mark of honor…then you would be welcomed as any other…clan member would.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You gave me the mark so they would know I’m trustworthy, that I’m not dangerous?”

“You are…dangerous.” He amended, “Mark…shows that…but to wear it…also shows that… you would…one day welcome…a place not only…amongst the three of us…but amongst the clan…a bond…belonging…a home.”

“I would never join your clan,” she spat quickly. She found her strength again, his careful wording seeming to cause that other turn he had been concerned about. She swatted Anaya’s hand away as he attempted to pull her back once more. “Stop touching me Anaya! What do you think I’m going to do to Noa?”

“Sorry,” Anaya grunted. “Not afraid…of what…you will do.”

Her brow raised at that turning from Anaya to him, “Really? Does that mean I should be afraid of what you will do, Noa?”

“Petty human,” he muttered, his instincts flaring once more at her obvious aggression.

“What was that?” She mocked, “I couldn’t hear you over your own pride!”

He was done holding back, she certainly was not. What good had it done him anyway? The more he tried to reason with her, the more she gnashed her teeth. Might as well be the brutish ape she was accusing him of being. He raised himself to his full height, pushing back from the tree and bridging the small distance Anaya had managed to put between them, baring his canines as he roared, “You are ungrateful…selfish…only care for yourself!”

She pushed her shoulders back, stepping forward to be toe to toe with him, not afraid to look him directly in the eye as she screamed back, “Ungrateful? Selfish? Are you sure that’s not you? I don’t care? You forget, I taught you how to read!”

She had him there, but something was wrong with his mind. He could not concede, he needed to win now. “Better off…thanks to apes…would not leave…your hole in the ground…without us!”

“Better off? Better off! I was just fine before you came into my life!” Her eyes were red, but there were no tears, not yet, and he had to wonder if Echo’s cried when they were angry too. “Can you say the same?”

“Yes!” He answered, without really thinking about it. “If Echo was not here…would make life…much easier!”

“If Echo was not here, you would be dead!” Her voice cracked as she screamed that final word.

There was silence for a few racing heartbeats. She seemed to be panting, and it was echoing in the forest around them. No, that was his own breaths. He was panting just as hard as she was, anger physically rolling off of them both. She would not bend, and he would not bend. He felt the fingers of his left hand twitch, something in him whispering that he should make her bend. His canines were pushed further into his gums then, he ground them in harshly, attempting to force that thought from his mind.

What she said was true, and that brought him pleasure as much as it brought him frustration. Those two emotions were mingling his thoughts together, and her scent-…it was different today. Past the bitter and sour smell of her anger, there was something else. It was the same smell as before. The one that made him want to get closer to her, made him lose the ability to speak, but this time it was…more. It was something he wanted to investigate, to understand. Where was it coming from? How much closer would he need to be to find it? She was practically on top of him now, and still he felt too…

Too close. He was too close.

He was breaking an unspoken promise right now, and if she were not so angry she would know that too. Angry…she was too angry. He was too jumbled to think clearly, and her scent was too enticing. He needed to get her away somehow. He would not touch her, fearing that would only make things worse between them. He could only speak a half truth now, hoping to push her away using his words like he had before.

“No longer…in danger,” he huffed. “Do not…need Echo…to be here…anymore.”

“Fine!” She growled, turning abruptly away from him, “Then I won’t be here! You don’t need anything from me, and I don’t need anything from you!”

“Noa…Echo please…stop.” Anaya pleaded, following alongside her, “Both are…untrue…bad words…from bad feelings…friends do not…mean it.”

She stopped, turning abruptly to Anaya, eyes searching for something in his features. Her brows furrowed and her face crumpled, “I wish I could believe that.”

Anaya visibly shrunk, releasing sorrowful hoots, looking helplessly between their Echo and him. He snorted through his nose, unwilling to back down. She was wrong. He was wrong too, but he believed he had more than earned her trust. She obviously did not trust either of them as much as she said she did. If she did, she would have agreed to go to the village. She turned then, eyeing him up and down before raising a shaking hand to her head.

Shaking? When did that start?

She removed his gift, hair sticking up in places as she gently pulled it away. She stared at it, thumb grazing over the eagle mark. He saw the sadness reflected in her gaze, before she tossed it at his feet. It landed in front of him with a dull thud, mocking him as a dirt cloud swirled up around it. He felt the anger and desire to win melt away from him, eyes seeking hers out as his jaw went slack. Something in his chest physically hurt now, feeling as if he was back in that burning tower, plummeting to the ground and unable to do anything to stop it.

“Echo…?” Anaya questioned, hesitating as he watched her. She turned to his Sunset brother, mournful smile obvious as she reached for his neck and brought her head forward to meet his. He heard her whisper something to Anaya, but could not tell what it was. As she pulled away, Anaya’s hand hovered over her arm, but he chose at the last second not to touch her. Anaya turned to him then, begging, “Noa…fix…please.”

He reached down to pick up the crown, straightening up and locking gazes with her once more. She was watching him, her anger seeming to have completely vanished. With his own mysteriously missing, all that was left now was regret and shame. He did not know what to say, how to stop this, or how to fix it. She visibly swallowed, tears clear in her eyes, “I don’t need it. I don’t belong to…your clan.”

He could not argue with her. Her words were true, but there was a strange ache in his chest that told him those were not the words she wished to say. Instead, he nodded. He thought he heard a high pitched noise, like a whimper from her, but it was so faint it could have been his imagination. He opened his mouth, but found words had deserted him again. They had fled to her, as she hummed, “It was nice while it lasted…goodbye, Noa.”

The words caused him to feel cold, an awful realization dawning on him. Did she mean forever? She turned and began to walk away. Was she leaving for good? He had to know! He called after her, first using the term Echo, but when she did not react, he called her name. Still, she did not stop.

He called her name again, “Stop…come back!”

He took several large steps to try to bridge the space between them, when she suddenly became a blur of movement. She had crouched to the ground, straightening up and spinning around at the same time, before he felt an intense pain in his jaw. His left hand came up to clutch his muzzle, hearing Anaya gasp and screech, jumping back a few paces.

He looked down, finding a stone at his feet. His movements were sluggish now, head turning up to see her arm raised, another matching stone resting in her palm. It was poised to be thrown. The surprise was so intense he could not find it within himself to react. She on the other hand, was still shaking, shifting from foot to foot, arm still raised. It shook too. Her breathing was shallow as she said, “I’m leaving. You can’t stop me, so don’t try to.”

He nodded again, huffing several times through his nose while backing away from her. Anaya shuffled over to stand next to him, looking just as shocked as he felt. Her shaking became less intense, but did not stop. She finally lowered her arm, eyes darting to the stone in her hand before shifting to the one on the ground. She looked distraught as she stared at it. Did she not know she had thrown it at him? Had she acted out of instinct?

One thing was for certain, she was leaving. She had dropped the rock in her hand and taken off in a full sprint before he could blink. She was soon out of their line of sight, and that seemed to finally shake Anaya out of his silence. He looked to Noa, confused and upset. He screeched, slamming his fists on the ground, before turning and racing back up the hill on all fours. He called out, much louder than he had heard him screech before, “Soona!…Soona!”

No matter how many seasons passed, he would be able to recognize that sound. By the way he was calling her name, by the tone of his voice, he knew that it would not lead to good things. He chased after Anaya, yelling, “Anaya…no…Anaya…stop!”

“Soona!” He screeched louder, creating even more distance between them as he ran. Anaya was still faster than him. He would never be able to catch him as he continued to call, “Soona…Soona…Echo gone!”

He was definitely in trouble.

…

Soona was screeching at him before he could even get a word in. Not for the first time, he cursed Anaya’s natural ability to run fast and speak faster when he wanted to.

“Why would you…say that…to her?” Soona asked, throwing an old piece of nesting at him.

He had brought them into the eagle tower, not wanting Anaya to panic half the village, or worse, alert the elders to her absence. Apes never needed privacy, but at the moment, he could not face any other after what he had done. He hung his head, whispering, “I do not…know…thought I could…convince her…she is usually…not like that.”

“Why was she?” Soona wondered, sitting down next to him, her own annoyance subdued. “I have…never seen her…angry…or upset.”

“Noa…knows.” Anaya accused, sitting away from him, crouched on the floor with his arms around his knees. The stance was a familiar one of mourning, and somehow this hit him harder than the Echo’s rock. Anaya refused to even look in his direction as he added, “Noa knows…about Echo…and apes…something not good.”

Soona turned her head, raising her brows, “Noa…?”

“Anaya…speaks true,” he said. Whether she returned or not, he decided that for the sake of understanding what went wrong, he would need to reveal her story. “We are not…the first apes…she has met.”

Soona was quiet next to him, but Anaya turned abruptly to face him. He still looked upset, but pushed himself to his feet, moving closer to Noa before asking, “Was…a pet?”

He was surprised by Anaya’s words, huffing, “How…do you know?”

“Guess,” Anaya said. “You are not…the only one…who speaks with her.”

He hesitated now, the statement catching him off guard. He knew that Anaya was close with her, but the moments he had shared with her, he wondered if she had shared similar moments with Anaya. When? When would they have had the opportunity? He recalled Anaya returning his arm band, not thinking anything of it when he mentioned finding their Echo by the water. He obviously did not know the whole story, but she must have trusted him with some of it, for Anaya to know the Echo’s meaning of that word.

Soona nudged him then, his original thoughts returning. “She told me…the night…after the boar attack…felt like a secret…so I did not speak of it after…she agreed that it was best…not to.”

“But you decided first,” Anaya grunted.

He felt his own brows furrow, “What…does that…matter?”

Anaya huffed, turning away, “Echo does not…like decisions being made…for her…yet you do…all the time.”

“I am…Master of Birds…need to decide things…sometimes.” He defended.

Soona shoved his shoulder, taking him off guard, “Still…dumb male…she is not…part of the clan…yet…you cannot…decide things for her…honor means…nothing.”

“Noa dumb,” Anaya agreed. “Echo…did not like…surprise…did not want to…be taken to village…Anaya said…so too.”

“I thought,” he defended. “If she did not…have time to…think about it…could see how…peaceful apes are…she would...be okay.”

“She met…apes before.” Soona asked, “That were not…peaceful…like…Proximus?”

He shuffled, arms folding around his own knees as he confessed, “I think…worse.”

[nataliaromanovasworld]

A Soul for a Soul

Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader oneshot

Summary: During the events of endgame, you traded your soul for the soul stone after losing everything, your girlfriend Wanda, in the blip. However, when the avengers won, not having you there destroyed Wanda. Until, Natasha decides to trade her soul.

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Vormir 2018

You stand at the edge of the cliff, the wind howling like a distant cry for help. Vormir is as desolate as the emptiness you've been living with for five years. Natasha stands beside you, her jaw tight, while Clint keeps his gaze locked on the horizon, as if looking away from you would somehow make what you're about to do hurt less.

The soul stone lies just beyond the precipice, its power hidden in that endless chasm, and the only thing standing between you and it is the cost. A soul for a soul.

You never thought this would be your fate. Then again, you never thought Thanos would win either. Or that you'd lose Wanda. After all, Wanda was your world, and when she disintegrated in the Snap, everything you cared about turned to dust with her. The drinking came easily after that, an old coping mechanism that, this time, no one - not even Natasha - could pull you out of.

Five years. Five years of surviving, but not living. A hollow existence that ended here, on Vormir. A fitting end, you thought. You hadn't done enough to save Wanda then, but you could now - by helping bring her, and half of the universe, back.

"Don't do this." Natasha's voice is tight, breaking slightly. She grips your arm with a fierceness that mirrors the bond you've shared since childhood.

"Let me go Nat," you say, quietly, trying to sound resolute, but your voice is weaker than you want it to be.

Clint glances at you, then to Natasha. "We can find another way," he insists. "There's always another way."

But you shake your head. "No," you reply, stepping closer to the edge. "I don't have anything left to lose."

Natasha's hand tightens around your arm. "That's not true."

"It is," you whisper, eyes dropping to the stone at your feet. "Wanda... She's gone, Nat. I lost her, and I couldn't... I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. I failed her. I failed all of you."

"You didn't fail anyone," Natasha hisses, her voice trembling. "You think this is what Wanda would've wanted? For you to-"

"She's not here to tell me what she wants!" You yell, harsher than intended. The words slip through your gritted teeth, the rage, the grief, the guilt that's been rotting you from the inside out finally spilling over. "But I am," you say, quieter now, stepping even closer to the edge. The abyss beckons, like it's been waiting for you all along. "And I'm choosing this."

Natasha's eyes glisten. "You don't have to."

You smile, a bittersweet thing. "Yes I do."

Before she can protest again, you gently pull yourself from her grasp, give Clint a nod, and leap.

The fall feels like freedom, like release. The last thing you hear before the world fades away is Natasha's anguished scream.

The Afterlife, 2024

Death is not what you expected.

In the afterlife, there's no grand reunion, no peace. There's just you - waiting in an endless expanse of white, devoid of time, suspended in a purgatory that doesn't feel much different from how you'd been living before.

You still feel everything. The sorrow, the regret, the memories of Wanda, of Natasha, of the war you couldn't win. It plays like an endless loop in your mind. You'd hoped for peace, for the pain to fade, but no... here, it's sharper than ever.

But then, one day - or whatever passes for days here - you hear her voice.

"Get up."

You blink, startled, your heart racing in disbelief. It can't be.

"Nat?" You whisper, pushing yourself to your feet. She stands before you, her red hair glowing against the white void. She looks the same as she always did - strong, determined - but there's a new weight to her gaze, something dark and sorrowful.

Your eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

Natasha sighs, running a hand through her hair. "The same thing you did."

A chill runs through you. "No."

"Yes."

You step forward, anger bubbling to the surface. "You traded your soul? Are you - are you out of your mind? Why the hell would you do that?"

"For her," Natasha says, her voice steady, but her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "For Wanda."

The mention of her name sends a jolt of pain through you. You turn away, fists clenched. "You shouldn't have done that. I'm the one who needed to-"

"You were dead," Natasha interrupts, stepping closer. "You weren't there to see what happened to her. She needed you, and I... I tried, but I couldn't save her. And now..." Her voice breaks. "Now she's lost, completely lost, and the only thing that can pull her back is you."

You freeze, your heart pounding. "What do you mean, lost?"

"She's... she's created a reality," Natasha explains, her voice low, shaky. "A place called Westview. It's all an illusion, a perfect world where you never died, where Pietro is still alive, and... and where she has everything she's lost. But it's tearing her apart. She's breaking, and I can't stop it. I couldn't reach her. Only you can."

Your chest tightens, emotions swirling inside you - fear, guilt, anger, love. "She's alive?"

Natasha nods. "But she's not herself, not anymore."

You stumble back, rubbing your hands over your face, trying to wrap your mind around it all. You died to bring everyone back, to give Wanda her life back - and now... this.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you snap, guilt seeping through your words. You can't believe it - Wanda, alive but trapped in her own grief, and you were just... here. Waiting.

Natasha looks at you with a mixture of pity and resolve. "Because I wasn't going to let you give up again. You need to fight for her now."

You stare at her, your mind spinning. "I... I can't. She won't even recognise me."

"Yes she will," Natasha insists. "She's been waiting for you."

You shake your head. "I'm dead Nat."

"Not anymore."

The air around you seems to shift, the whiteness swirling into shades of grey. Natasha steps closer, her hands on your shoulders. "I'm not coming back from this. You are."

Tears prick your eyes. "I can't... I can't lose you too."

She smiles sadly. "You already did sestra." Her hands tighten on your shoulders, grounding you. "I love you Nugget. Always have. But Wanda... Wanda's your family now. She needs you, more than I ever could."

You want to argue, to tell her she's wrong, that she's your sister, that you still need her, but the words get stuck in your throat. The light around her is dimming, her presence slipping away.

"Take care of her," Natasha whispers.

Before you can speak again, everything fades to black.

Westview, 2024

When you wake, it's in the middle of a street lined with quaint suburban houses. Westview.

The air hums with energy, with something unnatural, and as you rise to your feet, the first thing you feel is her.

Wanda.

She's close - closer than she's been in years. Your heart aches, your pulse quickening at the familiar sensation of her presence. The bond you once shared hasn't diminished with death; if anything, it's stronger now.

You take a deep breath and follow the pull, your legs moving on instinct. The town around you feels strange, almost too perfect, like you're walking through a TV set. People wave at you, smiling, going about their day as if nothing is wrong, but you can sense the cracks in the facade. The tension, the undercurrent of fear.

And then, you see her.

Wanda stands at the end of the street, cradling two small children in her arms. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, her face serene but... off, as though the smile she wears is too forced, too fragile.

Your breath catches in your throat as you step closer.

"Wanda?" you whisper.

Her head snaps up, and for a moment, she looks at you like she's seeing a ghost. Maybe she is. Her eyes widen, the children in her arms forgotten as they run off to play.

You take another step. "It's me."

Her lips part, trembling. "You..."

Tears fill her eyes, and she stumbles toward you, her hands reaching out like she needs to touch you to know you're real.

You catch her as she falls into you, her fingers gripping your jacket like a lifeline. "You're... you're dead. You died," she whispers, her voice trembling with disbelief and hope and fear all at once.

"I did," you murmur, wrapping your arms around her, holding her as tightly as you can. "But I'm here now."

Wanda pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her hands cupping your face, trembling. "How?"

You exhale slowly. "Natasha."

Her breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening with realisation, and then they close, her face contorting in pain. "No..." she whispers. "She didn't..."

"She did." You take her hands in yours, squeezing them gently. "A soul for a soul."

Wanda's tears spill over, and she shakes her head. "I didn't want this," she sobs, her voice breaking. "I just wanted you back."

"I know," you say softly. "I know."

She pulls away, pacing back and forth as her grief morphs into something darker, something more volatile. "I couldn't... I couldn't lose you again. I couldn't lose him again," she cries, her voice rising with each word. "Everything I loved was taken from me."

"I know, Wanda," You repeat, stepping toward her. "But this... this isn't the way."

Her magic flares, the scarlet energy crackling at her fingertips. "What am I supposed to do?" she demands, her voice desperate, eyes wild. "I had nothing left. I needed this - I needed you."

You take her hands again, ignoring the magic pulsing through her, and pull her into your arms. "You don't need to live in this world. Not anymore. I'm here now. I'm real. And I'm not going anywhere."

She buries her face in your chest,

her shoulders shaking with sobs. You hold her, whispering soft reassurances, letting her grief and pain flow through you. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming, but you don’t let go.

After a while, her magic begins to fade, the energy in the air softening. The illusion around you—the perfect world she created—starts to flicker.

"I can’t keep doing this," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

"You don’t have to," you murmur into her hair. "We’ll figure it out together."

She looks up at you, her red-rimmed eyes filled with so much sorrow, so much love. "Promise?"

You smile softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I promise."

And for the first time in years, you feel like you’re home.

[jennamoran]

The Far Roofs

So today I want to talk a bit about what this game wants to be. In particular, I'm going to go over its key technical and artistic goals.

The Far Roofs focuses on immersive hidden world fantasy adventure. It's intended to offer the experience of a grounded, emotionally real base world attached to an idealized, fantastic "hidden world" setting.

One might say, the streets and buildings and houses of the game's world are basically our own. Above us, though, is a stranger, more idealized, and more fantastic place. It's hard to get to. It's dangerous. It's less grounded. It's full of wonder.

Those are the Far Roofs.

This divide exists to make the game feel as real as possible, if you want to go that way. That's part of what hidden world fantasy is about, after all---the idea that magic is here. That it's not in some distant alien land or mythic future or past.

It's here, if you want to reach for it.

(Now, the game is flexible enough that you can play "protagonist" types instead of realer people, and many traditional gaming groups will probably prefer that, but that'll mean getting less of that immersive effect.)

The mood the game is interested in is that feeling you get when you take a huge risk---move to a new place; try a new thing. The feeling you get in those times in your life when everything is alienated and wondrous and terrifying but there's also so much more *hope* than there was in the still times before.

It's a mood of being swept up and called forward.

This is, among other things, meant to be a game for people who've been beaten down or exhausted by the ... everything ... to feel that sensation of moving forward again.

To remember what it's like, why it's worth it, how to reach for it again.

It's meant---and I do understand that I am finite and flawed and this can only go so far---as a tonic and refreshment to the soul.

--

Rules

The Far Roofs uses a 5d6-based dice pool system for day-to-day task resolution. It's relatively traditional and optimized for fast, fun dice reading. There's a loose consensus I've seen in RPG design circles that dice are for when outcomes are uncertain and both options are interesting, and I don't disagree ... but there's also this thing where rolling dice to decide is intrinsically interesting and fun, where it's fuel for a certain part of the brain.

This game tries to get as much out of that side of dice as it can.

You'll also collect letter tiles and cards over the course of the game. This is for bigger-picture stuff:

To answer big questions and to complete big projects, you'll either assemble representative words out of those tiles, or, play a poker hand built out of those cards. Word and their nuances express ideas and shape how outcomes play out; poker hands, conversely, just give a qualitative measure of how much work you do or how well things will go.

In keeping with this, the campaign is represented principally in the form of questions or issues your words and hands can address. Player/GM-created campaigns would be the same.

--

Physical and Electronic Product

I wanted to put the print version within the range of as many people who might need that tonic as possible. That means that for this particular game, I wanted to cover the full territory that I'd normally cover in a two or three volume set (core rules, setting, and campaign) in a single 200-250-page volume.

In practice this means there's a guide and examples for constructing the setting, rather than a deep dive into a fully-detailed world; that there's a bit less in the way of whimsical digression and flourish than in the writing I'm known for; that there's minimal "flavor" text on abilities; and that the campaign presentation is pretty fast-paced.

Conversely, it means that the game should be easy to absorb and to share with other possible players, and, that the game and campaign in this one relatively small volume should provide enough content for five or six years of play.

The book will be 8.5"x11" with grayscale art, available in a limited hardcover print run and a print-on-demand softcover form.

--

On the Rats

You'll see a lot of talk from me and others about the talking rats in this game. They're one of the jewels of the experience, and I think they're probably a significant draw just for being talking rats that are core to the game.

... but I'm going to hold off for now, because, to be clear, this is not a game of playing talking rats. It's just a game where talking rats and probably one of the top three most important setting elements.

I couldn't get that feeling I wanted of ... the base world being grounded realism; of the hidden world pulling you up and out and into a world full of magic ... with your playing rats, with your playing something so distant from the typical player.

So this is not a game of playing them.

They're just ... I like rats, and so I made the rats in this game with love. They're great ... whatever the equivalent is to "psychopomps" is for a magical world instead of for death ... and a way of talking about how in the face of the world, we're all pretty small.

--

I'm really excited about this game; the playtest was lovely.

I hope you'll enjoy it as well!

[pinazee]

Daredevils!

Overall, not one of my favorite episodes but by far my favorite ending because oh boy what a gut punch of feelings!

First, look at how he set this up. There is no way shawn thought this would work so he 100% knows these kids are only there to see him crash into this kid. Also, im guessing the actor for gus was unavailable, but i like to think hes not there because he knew Shawn always intended to crash into him.

Lol what are you talking about henry? He’s got like 9 years of life here and a third of it was in diapers. Stfu

This is random, but is this the only time we’ve seen the pinball machine? I dont recall it being in later eps. I’ll have to keep an eye out now.

So far my favorite pineapple reveal. Should i start playing find the pineapple?

Shawn can read lips ✅

Probably the dumbest thing Shawns ever done. also, I’m guessing Vancouver roof tops were out of the question, cause that green screen be working real hard haha

The first time i watched this show i was in middle school, so all of the references, went completely ignored by me. Now im picking up on references ive never heard before. Like who Aldo nova is.

Gemcitabine and capecitabine are actually pancreatic cancer treatments and they even showed it correctly (the one being an IV the other a tablet) so major kudos to psych for the attention to detail.

As for the lassie sideplot. Eh. I can see what Vick was trying to say, but at the same time, if Lassie is getting complaints because he’s throwing little tantrums then Vick should have handled it instead of telling Juliet to. Plus, Lassie is the type to respect authority, so it would’ve meant more if it had come from her anyways. Though, i do find it funny that Vick told her to handle it, and Jules’ interpretation of that was “i gotta find him a date,” when she probably meant like, beat the sense into him haha i will say though, i liked the resolution of Lassie going from i don’t need your help, to please, i need your help. I think thats good growth for him, but i think it was a little sloppy in the execution. I think it could’ve been better if lassie actually did get in trouble with Vick and Lassie had to work on not letting his personal life affect work as much and make that the focus. OR, if you wanted to keep the relationship stuff, you could forgo Vick getting involved at all and keep it simple. Jules feels bad for lassie getting rejected again and tries to set him up the whole episode, then when they have that bit with the prostitute, thats when he accepts her help (because again he has terrible instincts. Like, how did he make it this far as a cop. Truly astounding.)

Wait i have the answer to this! Let me check my notes:

By this point in the series- 6

NOW ABOUT THAT ENDING! Ohmygod! First of all, one of the rare Psych ep’s that doesnt have an actual murderer or even victim. They just got swept up into a poor dying mans attempt at suicide. I love that Shawn doesn’t tell anyone and is honoring his right to die. I think thats a very bold message to make on a cable show. But i also love that hes actually really nervous because he does want to convince him not to go through with it. and then after he left, Its one of the few occasions where we can actually see him questioning if he made the right decision. You can see how much he hopes his words resonated with him enough that it saves his life. Plus it was so smart to keep the camera on Shawn to watch his reaction. It kept you in that tense moment with him so you can feel the relief shawn has when he landed the trick. Such a great scene and possibly one of my favorites in the series.

P.S this is my favorite bit lol Gus is so much funnier to me this watch. I think the first time i watched Psych i pitied him a lot, so that anytime he looked kind of foolish i just felt bad for him haha but damn, Dulé is so freaking funny

[neuroticbookworm]

FRIENDS. FRIENDS.

Cooking Crush is undoubtedly one of the best shows airing at the moment.

Today's episode gave me so much life that I don't even know where to begin, but I'm gonna try my best to pull two (2) coherent thoughts out of my melting brain.

1. The Three Must-Eat-eers Conflict and Resolution:

Last episode had set up such a perfect conflict that's rarely handled well in any media: the bruised feelings of the single friend when the rest of the gang gets into committed romantic relationships. Most of the time this scenario shows up in media, one party will be framed as selfish and/or jealous. None of that nonsense here; Cooking Crush has always taken the friendship of its characters very seriously, especially Prem, Dynamite and Samsee. Samsee’s feelings were hurt not just because of his own fears of being abandoned by his friends, he was also (rightfully) mad that he ended up as the only friend who was kept out of the loop of knowing that his best friends had boyfriends now. But Prem and Dynamite did not intend to do this, and they were also right to set their own pace in making their relationship public, but it’s just that the string of accidental reveals happened in an order that made Samsee feel like a third-wheeler in his own home, twice over.

Cooking Crush treats its characters with a lot of kindness and empathy and it shows. Prem and Dy wanting to keep their relationships under wraps for the time being is valid. Samsee feeling hurt and lost, and opting out of the competition is valid. This episode begins with the drama of the cooking competition and works its comedy (thank you for the chuckles, wildly gesticulating White Man) and romance (my poor heart swooned all over my rib cage when Ten helped Prem into his chef clothes). And when the time came for the big reconciliation, the show does not sweep away Samee’s very hurt feelings just because Prem and Dy struggled without Samsee for most of the first round of cooking. He apologizes for ditching them and Dy was having none of it.

(Dy, my perfect child, oh how I love you with my entire heart)

Perfect resolution. and a well-earned, most adorable group hug to bookend it. I truly could not be more in love with this show. Or can I?

2. Miscommunication? Nah.

Well, this episode also featured the Annoying Asshole Chef dude who’s determined to pursue Prem even though it is very clear that Prem is not interested and would reject his advances, if only he stuck around long enough to actually get rejected and not run away from him like a goddamn coward. I was furious when he positioned himself as an actual option for Prem to Ten in this episode, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment Ten chose to call him out on his bullshit.

But y’all. The very inappropriate hug. The well-deserved punch to his stupid face. The storm-off. All of it had me very concerned that this is all barrelling towards a classic miscommunication moment.

BUT NO.

THE SHOW SAID THERE WILL BE NO STUPID MISCOMMUNICATION.

NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

My problem with the miscommunication trope is that it ultimately positions the couple we are supposed to be rooting for as a weak team. Honest communication and vulnerability in a new-ish relationship is not easy, and it takes a lot of courage to take that step to be the one to spell out the facts, and trust that the other person likes them well enough to keep an open ear, and believe them when they say a meddling cowardly asshole is trying to get in the way of their relationship. Ten’s bravery was perfectly contrasted with the sliminess of the Annoying Cowardly Chef (I refuse to learn his name, he is not worth my braincells).

Oh but Ten wasn’t done yet!

I absolutely adore how he moves the conversation away from that pesky little pest of a human towards something that matters more: his desire to make things official with Prem. The Annoying Asshole Chef was not the focus of the conversation, Ten and Prem are. And it all culminates in an incredible kiss and a camera swoop that already has a permanent little shrine in my silly little head.

TAKE MY HEART, COOKING CRUSH. TREAT IT WELL.

[mysticode54]

I stumbled across a Japanese article where Fumito Ueda, Yoko Taro, and Keiichiro Toyama had a publicized discussion about their careers and the video game industry as whole. This discussion was organized primarily to celebrate ICO's 20th anniversary in late 2021. So the folks over at Den Faminico Gamer requested concept art from all across ICO's development cycle to present throughout the 3 pages of conversation. And I don't know who was responsible for the task of transferring that, but they gave them A Lot of concept art. Many of these sheets have not been shared by genDESIGN's twitter, or really seen on any other site to my knowledge. There's some exclusive stuff in here. And even if they were seen somewhere before, I still want to translate them to the best of my ability and share the info. So I'm going to guide you through the sheets I found the most interesting. I'll also try to provide context for any cut content and musings on the lore elements being spelled out on the page. [Spoilers for ICO under the cut]

CUT AREAS

Jail

[I've decided to leave the original page untouched in all my translation images, and keep all added text to the black bars at the sides. I'm also including plain Japanese text in dark grey, just so everyone is clear on how I am interpreting the handwritten notes.] This area is titled "Jail" or "Prison" and it was to be put on the second story of the East Arena. This means that, in early designs, the leftmost door was meant to be opened on arrival. It seems you would navigate the diagonal water slope, make it up to this area, and briefly move outside for the sake of slipping into one of these locked cells. After doing so, you move a shelf aside, find the sword, enter a fight, and then use the sword on the rope holding the far right arena door. Having a jail cell next to the arena is very intriguing from a narrative standpoint. Were the cells for those who broke the rules set in place by the arena's organizers? Or was the arena always intended to be sparring matches between criminals and outcasts? Why is the only way onto the balcony found through one of these cells?

Boatshed

[In the black bars, text relating directly to the contents of the sketch will have drawn elements next to them, so you can better see what translation is paired with what part of the drawing. If it ever gets confusing, shoot me an ask and I'll clarify/edit the post.] The day after drawing up the concept for the Jail area, the team sketched the Boatshed, which was also cut. This area is reflective of an earlier, less bombastic ending to ICO, which Ueda briefly mentioned during Sony's "Great Scene Sharing" campaign in 2011.

Also, to be honest we weren’t planning to have the castle collapse entirely like that. We were originally thinking to have the ending of ICO be much more modest, but somehow it didn’t give you a feeling of resolution that way. And so we decided “Ok, let’s make everything crumble into the sea then.” (laughs)

The most intriguing aspect of this cut concept is a kind of Idol Fence Gate that reacts to Yorda in the same way as the Idol Doors, only in this case it is powered by a mask. The mask's face shape is somewhere between a man and a bull, with the moderately sized horns completing the animal resemblance. There seems to be a gem or circular marking embedded into the forehead as well. The text makes mention that the gate 'listens' to the mask (assuming I'm translating that correctly), so perhaps it had a specific auditory or musical cue planned for when it reacts to Yorda? But perhaps not. A concept page like this would be the perfect place to write that idea in clear detail, after all.

Heroine Room Connection

This is not exactly a cut area, but it is certainly a heavily altered one. This spot would later become the floor of Spiral Staircase, where Yorda is held prisoner in the first act of the game. We can see this intention by its proximity to 'The Heroine's Room' and the series of Idol Doors set up as the introduction to Yorda's unique power. (There's even a sketch detailing how this arrangement of four idols are supposed to part when opened, and it matches up with the movement of the idols in Spiral exactly.) The most notable feature of this area seems to be a set of stairs leading up into a small room with a trench in it. In the trench is a box and a small crevice in the wall. The crevice is labelled 'Heroine', which, to me, implies that Ico might have been able to see or hear Yorda through this crack in the wall. But since this room is a dead end, I imagine you use the box in some way to activate the other set of stairs, which seem to have both a upward and downward status depending on whether you've solved the puzzle or not. This is very similar in concept to a puzzle presented elsewhere in the final game. At either ends of the room are two doorways. One direction is labelled 'Ko Building', which we will discuss later in this post. But the entrance to this room is through the Ritual Room... which we also have concept art for!

Ritual Room

Similarly to the last sheet, this sketch depicts elements that would end up placed elsewhere, but the overall design of this room was cut. The Ritual Room was seemingly designed before the team had come up with the final design of the Altar Room. The Ritual Room bears many of its elements, but has a much larger scope and seems to serve as a junction between several parts of the building.

Common elements include:

The floor raising and lowering to open a path to the Stage 13 Elevator. The notes even clarify that this will only occur in the game's "2nd act". In this version of the mechanism, a handrail rises up when the floor lowers.

Capsules in which to place sacrifices. Though they aren't clearly depicted, they seem to be embedded into the ground, rather than standing up.

Restricted access to the high up Idol Doors. In the final game, they lead to The Queen's throne room. Here it leads to Proto, the earliest room designed in the game. It's unclear how you earn access to the doors, but the 'OFF' label indicates that the stairs must rise, or else it remains a vertical wall.

But one big difference that stands out is the palanquin-like structure at the center, which reminds me of the structure that surrounds The Queen's throne. Given the title of the room, we can infer this was meant to be the spot where the Queen's ritual would be held.

Notes in the margins indicate two innocuous, but fascinating things: - The note regarding what might open the Idol Doors for the village men likely marks the conception of The Queen's Sword. - Yorda's voice was meant to be heard from this room, and she would've been singing. She doesn't get to sing to herself in the finished product, though I think that characteristic fits her well.

Flowchart of the Second Half

Once it became clear to Ueda that the ending had to be more resolute and bombastic, they devised the Main Gate Event and laid out a plan for all the places you would traverse on your journey to the throne room. You might notice that locations like Cliff Cage, Cogwheel, and Pipe have different prototype names and some visual differences. The first location on the journey back, later known as Cage, is titled 'Ruins'. It seems to feature a series of overhang structures jutting out from the cliff-side. Presumably, these would catch Ico after his fall. The titular cages of the present incarnation seem to be absent, but we can see them close by, in the area that will become known as Cogwheel. Instead named 'Subterranean Lake' in this document, Cogwheel seems to lack any of its characteristic mechanisms. In this sketch, one of the cages seems to have fallen from the ceiling into the water below. In the final game, we move from Cogwheel to the outer edge of the island, where Ico clings tightly to the ridges of the cliff-side. But in this concept art, all of that distance is spent on a new area, completely cut from the final release, called 'Trolley Jump'. It seems the trolley would make a second appearance in the game's puzzle design and Ico would have to build up momentum to make it over a huge gap in the tracks. The Pipe area is named 'Ravine' instead. And the metallic platform is set far lower than it is in the final game, where you can just walk across it to make it to the elevator. Here, you must descend onto it and then climb up into a cavern, once you make it to the other side. You might've also seen that the the Old Bridge is titled 'ICO Bridge' in this document. This is especially interesting to me, as the name ICO seems to serve a different purpose here than you would expect.

What is “ICO (イコ)”, really?

Kenji Kaido has stated in the Japanese Guidebook for the game that the name 'ICO' was just the title, and initially, was never attributed to the boy protagonist (Page 82). He was nameless and only referred to as 'Boy', much like the protagonist of The Last Guardian is currently. The game's filenames, the concept art, and even Kaido's own presentation of the E3 2000 demo to PlayStation Underground, back this sentiment. The term 'ICO' is never attached to the boy before June or July of 2000, when US gaming publications reporting on E3 2000's demo started conflating the title with the protagonist's name. Seeing as this is dated in March of 2000, it's safe to say the use of 'ICO' here has nothing to do with the boy. So what is it about? Ueda did also say that the name was a shortening of the term ICON... but I have additional evidence suggesting that in this specific instance, it was not serving as an abbreviation for 'ICON Bridge'. Take a look at this rough overview sketch from the margins of a different concept art page.

Aside from the points that indicate land and sea, the labels that plainly stick out are "イ棟" and "コ棟".

"I Building" and "Ko Building". We saw that last label earlier in the Heroine Room Connection section.

Knowing this, we can safely infer that it's called イコ Bridge because it connects the イ and コ buildings... But then why are they split in that way and labelled イ and コ? I still don't have an answer for this, though I do feel like the divide is related to the separation of class. The イ building is dedicated to The Queen. It contains both her daughter and the sacrifices she needs to complete her ritual. It's where her throne is. It's where she resides and does her work. Meanwhile, everything on the other side of this bridge seems to have been built for a larger populous.

Benches, recreational areas, spectated arena matches, a waterfall, a courtyard, a ballroom with a massive chandelier! You don't build a front gate and a bridge to the mainland if you never wanted people to enter... This place undeniably once had people who lived and worked here. They were all designated under the コ building. I have to imagine this is why a distinction is being made, but beyond that, the reasoning for the titles remains a mystery. If someone has further insight into Japanese linguistics or culture, and have additional guesses as to why, please let me know.

Cut Boss Fight

In the West Arena (labelled 'R' for 'Right' in early development), there was going to be another raised cage event. Only this time it would take the form of a boss fight with a massive shadow that overtakes the floor and splays black tendrils through the air. Interestingly, there is already an overhead bridge in this image, but rather than magically appearing in stone segments, it's instead an ordinarily constructed wooden bridge. Here, the notes detail a different kind of puzzle element: Wire. Which, unlike ropes, cannot be cut by the sword. The same note indicates that wire is holding the left and right doors in place. While the concept art doesn't detail it plainly, I believe the only way past this room would be to pull on the "Idol Handle" that the boss is covering. Wire is also presumably being used for the zip-line running across the arena, which is an interesting component to say the least. The vision I'm gathering is that you'd ride the zip-line, hit X at the right time to drop down onto the overhead bridge, run over to the balcony where the 'Cage Switch' is labelled, and activate it to impede the boss. How it is then defeated is less clear. It's also unclear where Yorda would have been throughout this encounter, or if there would be additional enemies trying to drag her into a nest. Its possible the boss itself would be programmed to capture her with a tendril, and itself act as a nest by dragging her into the depths of itself. But we have no evidence one way or the other. [Ok, that's all the stuff I have to present for now. Keep in mind that there's more to see and translate in the article I linked at the very start. This post was only scratching the surface, despite the amount of material we covered. With that in mind, thank you for making it this far.]

Support

Now is as good a time as any to mention I've started up a Ko-Fi, so people can choose to support the work I do to uncover and present obscure info like this. There is, of course, no obligation to give me anything. The tips just help me get a bit of financial security in return for my efforts.

[theregencywriter]

(2) A Gentleman's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

My Dearest Readers,

It is with great delight that I bring to you the latest scoop from the glittering world of the Ton. The Bridgerton household, known for its scandalous affairs and captivating dramas, is currently hosting a young lady who has turned the heads of not just one, but two dashing Bridgerton brothers.

Yes, dear readers, I am talking about none other than Miss Y/N, a captivating beauty who recently crossed paths with Colin Bridgerton during his adventurous travels abroad. It appears that their encounter left quite an impression on the young man, for he has extended an invitation for Miss Y/N to stay with the Bridgerton family upon her return to London.

However, what adds a pinch of excitement to this already intriguing tale is the unexpected inclusion of Benedict Bridgerton, who seems to have taken a keen interest in Miss Y/N as well. Rumors have spread like wildfire that the artistic and free-spirited Benedict finds himself captivated by Miss Y/N's charm and intelligence.

As the head of the Bridgerton family, Anthony holds the responsibility of finding a suitable wife to fulfil his role in society. Yet, whispers have reached my ears suggesting that he too has been caught off guard by the captivating presence of Miss Y/N.

As fate would have it, the first ball of the season is scheduled for tonight, and the atmosphere is thick with anticipation. Oh, dear readers, could it be that Miss Y/N has become the object of desire for not one, not two, but three Bridgerton brothers? The ball tonight shall undoubtedly provide an intriguing backdrop for Anthony to assess the qualities that make Miss Y/N so enchanting. Will she manage to sway the steadfast Anthony Bridgerton from his search for a wife? Only time will reveal the answer.

Dear readers, keep your opera glasses at the ready, for the unfolding of this captivating story promises to be a thrilling spectacle. As always, I shall keep my eagle-eyed watch on this romantic rivalry and bring you every bit of scandalous detail that ensues.

Yours ever faithfully,

Lady Whistledown

“Such tat she writes these days” Eloise spoke as she read the newest paper. “When had Anthony ever considered to take on a wife? Has he ever shown any intent to wed?”

“I intend to wed” Anthony spoke as he entered the room, causing Eloise to roll her eyes and continue on her reading. Violet advanced towards Anthony and sat him down. "Anthony," she said gently, "may I hazard a guess that Miss Y/N's presence in our household might have influenced your sudden resolution?" She looked over to Eloise as they both shared a glance of acknowledgement.

Anthony's eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly. "Mother, you know I have been contemplating this for some time. It has nothing to do with Miss Y/N's arrival."

Violet's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Oh, my dear boy, you may try to deny it, but a mother knows when her son's heart is stirred. I saw the way you watched Miss Y/N when she spoke yesterday, how your eyes light up when she entered the room. You cannot hide such things from me."

Anthony's expression softened, his gaze drifting towards the window as he collected his thoughts. "Mother, I cannot deny that Miss Y/N possesses a certain charm and intelligence. But to say that she is the sole reason for my decision to marry would be a vast oversimplification."

Violet nodded, her eyes filled with both understanding and a touch of mischief. "Of course, my dear. Matters of the heart are complex, and it would be unfair to attribute your desires to a single person. However, do not discount the impact Miss Y/N's presence has had on your thoughts and aspirations."

Anthony sighed, a mixture of annoyance and affection evident in his voice. "Mother, you have a way of seeing through me like no one else. But I assure you, my intentions to marry have been brewing long before Miss Y/N was set to arrive. I am simply ready to take on the responsibilities of a husband and further my role as the man of the household."

Violet's smile grew, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Anthony's arm. "My dear son, I believe you. But do remember that love has a way of finding us when we least expect it. Perhaps Miss Y/N's arrival is a sign of destiny guiding you towards a future filled with happiness."

Anthony glanced at his mother, a mixture of uncertainty and hope in his eyes. "Perhaps, Mother. Only time will tell. For now, let us focus on the upcoming ball and the potential matches that await us there. Love or not, I am resolved to find a wife this year."

As the Anthony got up and left to attend to business Violet stayed sat, thinking. ‘love or not’, such a foolish statement she thought. She could only hope that all of her children could find happiness to the scale that her and Edmund had once shared, however fleeting.

-----

Later on in the day, as y/n passed through the hallways of the Bridgerton house she saw a gaggle of maids leaving Eloise’s room followed in short succession by a hearty cry of anger. Concern etched on her face, Y/N entered the room and approached Eloise, her voice filled with genuine care. "Eloise, what's the matter?"

Eloise let out a heavy sigh, her usually bright eyes clouded with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I just... I feel like I can never live up to Daphne's shadow," she admitted, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

A hit of sympathy hit within Y/N's heart as she realized the weight that her new friend had been carrying. With a gentle touch, Y/N took Eloise's hands in her own, offering a comforting squeeze. "Oh, Eloise, you are a remarkable person in your own right. Comparing yourself to Daphne, who has already found her place in society, is an unfair standard to hold yourself to."

Eloise's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she let out a small, bittersweet laugh. "I know, Y/N. It's just... everyone expects so much from me, especially with Daphne's marriage to the Duke and her shining reputation. I feel like I'm constantly falling short."

Y/N's touch became more tender as she gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind Eloise's ear, a soft, understanding smile gracing her lips. "You are a force to be reckoned with, Eloise Bridgerton. Your intelligence, wit, and determination are unparalleled. Society may have its expectations, but it's up to you to define your own path and shine in your own unique way."

Eloise's eyes widened with a glimmer of hope, her doubts momentarily replaced by a flicker of possibility. "You truly believe that?"

"Without a doubt," Y/N replied. Eloise looked at Y/N, her friend's unwavering support providing her with a newfound strength. "Thank you, Y/N. Your belief in me means more than you know." Y/N enveloped Eloise in a comforting hug. "You're never alone in this, Eloise. Together, we can face anything that comes our way."

As they continued their preparations for the ball, the atmosphere in the room transformed. A renewed sense of purpose filled the air, the bond between Y/N and Eloise growing stronger with each passing moment. With Y/N's assistance Eloise finished getting ready for the ball and the two made their way downstairs. “Mother, where is everyone?” Eloise asked as she caught on to the soured look upon Violets face. “They have left, and we are late” she looked at y/n “Thank you for help, now come on you to. We must make haste!”

------

Y/N and Eloise descended the grand staircase of the Bridgerton house, their gowns shimmering in the light . The soft rustle of their skirts filled the air as they made their way to the ballroom, where excitement and anticipation hung palpably.

As they reached the landing of the staircase, Y/N couldn't help but notice the three Bridgerton brothers—Anthony, Colin, and Benedict—standing together, their gazes fixed on her in awe. Their jaws practically dropped, their eyes widened as they took in her beauty.

Eloise, catching the surprised expressions on her brothers' faces, turned to follow their line of sight. A mischievous smile took over her lips as she realized the effect her friend had on them. With a playful nudge, she whispered to Y/N, "Seems like you've left the Bridgerton brothers speechless, my dear friend."

Y/N blushed at the attention, feeling a mixture of delight and self-consciousness. She glanced at Anthony, whose usual composed demeanor faltered for only a moment, his eyes lingering on her form with a hint of admiration. Colin's expression mirrored surprise and intrigue, while Benedict's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Shall we continue, ladies?" Colin finally broke the spell, recovering his composure and offering his arm to Eloise. Benedict and Anthony swiftly followed suit, extending their arms to Y/N.

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her composure and allowing herself to bask in the moment. She placed her hand delicately on Anthony's arm, her heart skipping a beat as their eyes briefly met. With a shared understanding between friends, she and Eloise stepped forward, intertwining their lives with the Bridgertons, ready to embrace the onslaught of suitors for the evening.

As they descended the rest of the staircase, the murmurs and whispers of the assembled guests filled the air. Y/N's presence, the epitome of grace and charm, had become a focal point of intrigue and admiration. The ballroom, with its shimmering lights and majestic atmosphere, seemed to come alive with a renewed energy.

The Bridgerton brothers, still captivated by Y/N's presence, exchanged glances, their amazement evident. It was as if a mysterious enchantment had woven itself around Y/N, captivating their attention and piquing their curiosity. Y/N, humbled by the attention, maintained her poise and grace, meeting the gazes of the Bridgerton brothers with a warm smile. In that moment, a silent understanding passed between them—a recognition of the undeniable allure that had drawn them all closer together.

[bustybounty]

A wife concerned her husband isn't eating enough feeds him the entire planet.

He's been working so hard he even skipped a lunch the last Friday at work-- he must be starving all the time, oh, what will she do? She worries her thick, 220lbs man is going to keep eating less and less...he only put on 5 pounds last week! She decides that desperate times call for very desperate measures.

She straps him to his desk chair and starts feeding him massive orders from every local restaurant, fast food place, even ordering bags of chips and other meals from supermarket take-aways, from how desperate she was!

As he ate, his desk and all his work got knocked over by his swelling, gurgling, hungry, glutton of a belly that beckoned for more while he tried (and failed) to complain about the table breaking due to all the food being shoved down his mouth.

He couldn't deny he loved it when his wife fed him and rubbed his belly, especially to a degree where he went beyond full, but she didn't understand why she was going so far this time around!...Well, somehow, he got so full, so stuffed, that his belly did a full circle (pun intended) and sounded like it was starving again!

Hearing this, the detemined wife was resolute in feeding him anything at hand, even things that shouldn't be edible were beginning to be sucked down by his voracious maw that would stop at nothing to satisfy both his and his wife's urges. He had long since broken out of the chair, with his massive fattened up booty, legs that outsized the thickest tree trunks, and even blobby arms, but he didn't try to move or waddle out of the way, instead he only allowed the feeding to be easier, using hoses or whatever means necessary to make him bigger.

Making sure he had a drinking source, she got a hose directly connected to a river to give him a plentiful source of water... though soon enough, the river and the ocean it ultimately ran towards were running out, as he was drinking everything, eating everything, to the point where the barren planet itself would become just a crunchy meal for this galactic glutton.

His wife, still stubborn as ever, assumed that he still had room for dessert, and once he opened his mouth to sound out a large burp that wobbled and rumbled his enormously fat body around its cosmic surroundings, he had the Moon for a lovely dessert, that'd bwomph him up several more sizes, his belly dominating his figure, followed by impressively, outrageously blubbery, round, perky moobs, and an ass that'd make a fertility goddess blush.

"I hope I fed you enough honey..." She laid down on his cheek rolls and planted kisses all over him, her love for him being as big as he now was. <3

[egittae]

bambi and the old stag - lambert & dimitri

Starter for @blaiddllodi (riding+1)

With one last double check on his equipment, Lambert nodded with satisfaction once he made sure all was set. Though this was a great opportunity to simply bond and get a breather with a nice and calm horse ride, as a teacher that was still an expedition and so he needed to be sure he was ready for anything that could possibly happen- both good and bad. 

Even more since he had been assigned a house leader on top of it all. Not that he’d be less prepared if it were a regular student, no- but house leaders did demand extra care. If anything happened to them it could be bad for everyone, particularly the Church’s image…and he didn’t even want to think about what damage it could do to the Abyss and its people.

The process itself was kind of odd, however- starting with the very student Lambert had been assigned to. As he was a professor of the Ashen Wolves Lambert naturally assumed that if he were to be assigned a house leader, then it would be Yuri since he was already a student of his, while the other house leaders would be each assigned to other professors from their respective affiliations for obvious reasons. The face he was met with, while a familiar one, wasn’t that of his keen-eyed house leader.

Dimitri, prince of Faerghus and leader of Blue Lions. That was the student that had been assigned to him for whatever reason…which was why he was double checking everything. Lambert already intended to be careful with whatever kid was allowed under his wing, but the prince of the very land he hailed from…it did add a little more pressure on his shoulders for this to go all right. It was one thing to give that boy a lesson or two within the Academy, and it was another to be the sole responsible for his safety outside of the campus grounds.

Not to mention, he hadn’t forgotten. Lambert knew better than to bring it up, but his heart remembered the cold ache from the realization that the boy’s voice and appearance- his eyes, felt almost like a claw trying to tear and shred through the fog in his mind, violently searching for something within it. The ominous realization of something he didn’t even begin to feel ready enough to think about let alone let it settle. It wasn’t fear nor disgust, much less displeasure. Lambert held no ill feelings towards that boy.

If anything, he was more afraid of what the truth behind that boy’s identity could do to him. Would it treat his heart like a pride of lions would a gazelle in the wilderness? Would it twist, crush and shred it apart violently- driven by survival and the need to make things right? Or would it cradle it gently, with love and the softness of resolution?

It felt wrong to sew his hopes onto someone else, but the phantom tugging his mind around while keeping him in the dark was restless.

He didn’t want to think about it. Not now- later, much later perhaps, but not now. Now he was just a teacher, preparing an expedition for a student and that was it.

A deep breath, eyes meeting the Goddess’ in the sky, and reality stood by his side. 

“Greetings, boy. Dimitri, was it? Are you ready to go or do you need more time to prepare your gear?” Arms crossed over his chest offered a comfort only he could understand. “We are scheduled to follow a trail into the forest and end up in a glade of sorts. This is no camping mission and I know there is Faerghan blood in your veins, but winter is coming. Do not underestimate the mountain’s winds.” He offered a gentle warning, taking the chance to also analyze what the student was bringing.

“Also, do not forget treats for your horse. They are hard workers and could use some extra appreciation too.” The man blinked before climbing up to the saddle, looking down at the prince.

[cringefailvox]

15, 17, 19 for the meme! Dealer’s choice! You can do the same fic for all three or you can do different ones, whichever is the most interesting. (Aka I can’t pick… you have so many tasty fics.)

15. talk about the characters' struggles & how you decided on those.

sometimes you scrape and sink so low

this fic let me dig my teeth into husk for the first (and hopefully not the last) time!! a missing scene post-ep5 because i've been thinking about the hallway scene ever since i watched it and feeling CRAZY. i earnestly believe that husk and alastor consider each other friends of a sort, even despite the soul ownership, and so this fic delves into husk struggling with the aftermath of alastor betraying him like that -- he thought he'd known the rules, known how to play the game, and here alastor goes overturning the board on him in a way he never had before. it was a profound breach in the status quo between them that leaves husk rattled and hurt. but alastor doesn't want that either; he wants husk to respect him, but he doesn't want husk to genuinely fear him, at least not in any personal sense -- being afraid of the radio demon mythos is one thing, but he truly doesn't want husk to take the hallway incident as their new normal.

i'm so endlessly fascinated by their dynamic mostly because of how ooc that scene feels. as in, neither of them are at their best: alastor is stressed and irritated out of his mind already from lucifer's presence + husk does what he does best and instantly zeroes in on someone's sorest spot to drive his point home = alastor violently lashing out at him in a way we've never seen him do before. it sucks! husk was just trying to look out for him! but we knew that conversation was never going to go well. this fic was definitely a lot of wish-fulfillment for me skjfghjkfd i really wish we'd gotten some kind of resolution with them in canon.

17. talk about the fic's ending. why did you end it where you did?

The Diving Bell

after a sweet and sappy closing scene, vaggie ends with a note of defeatism -- she'll tell charlie the truth about what she is someday, if charlie ever asks, but until then, she'll savor what she has until it's inevitably taken away from her. it's a bummer sentiment but it felt true to vaggie's character; she hates herself so deeply and so strongly that she's convinced charlie would hate her too if she knew the Truth -- the big, ugly truth at the core of her that makes her unworthy of anything but being useful to charlie. she knows it's inevitable that the truth will get out someday, but she isn't optimistic about how it'll go. so i wanted to end this fic on that feeling of mixed happiness/dread, where vaggie thinks she knows how this story will end, but intends to cherish what she has while she's allowed to keep it. girl let's get you so much therapy.

19. while editing, did you kill any darlings? what were they?

dragging its tail in the sea

i had to rewrite one section of this like three times to make it flow well and sadly had to cut this hilarious line:

it was just a touch too bitchy for the melancholy tone and i couldn't get it to connect to the rest of the scene, but man it still makes me giggle. and who knows, someday you all might get to see it given a new home in static shock since i gave bird custody

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 69

Steve returned with Dr. Cho and quietly positioned himself in the far corner of the room, his presence almost ghost-like as he watched her examine me. Dr. Cho’s touch was gentle but clinical as she assessed my condition. "Your super serum is working its magic," she said, her tone reassuring yet firm. "I want to keep you here for one more night, just to be sure, and then you'll be free to go." She offered a small, professional smile before slipping out of the room, the door closing softly behind her with a final click.

Steve remained where he was, his posture tense, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared down at the floor, lost in his thoughts. A heavy weight settled in my chest as I watched him, guilt gnawing at me. I hadn't meant what I'd said earlier, not really. I didn’t regret my decision to stay, but frustration had gotten the better of me, and I lashed out, hitting right where I knew it would hurt. I was fully aware of his insecurities about Bucky, and my words had cut deep, much deeper than I'd intended. The silence between us grew thicker with every passing second, amplifying the remorse that coiled inside me.

I sighed, biting my lip as I wrestled with my emotions, desperately searching for the right words to bridge the chasm I’d created. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I stared down at my lap, too ashamed to meet his gaze. The words felt heavy on my tongue, but I forced them out, hoping they would somehow bridge the gap between us.

Steve scoffed, a bitter sound that made me flinch. "But you still said it," he replied, his voice laced with hurt and frustration. "You said it even though you knew exactly how much it would hurt me."

I parted my lips to speak, to somehow take back the damage I’d done, but before I could find the words, he cut me off. "It’s not your fault that I feel this way," he said, his tone softening just a fraction, but the pain was still there, raw and real. "These are my insecurities, and I have to own that. But... I don’t think I can move forward with this relationship, with the idea of having a family with you, without working on my issues first."

His words hung between us, heavy and final, the future we had envisioned together suddenly seeming so fragile, so uncertain. My lip quivered as his words began to sink in, each one striking like a blow, but I couldn’t—no, I didn’t want to—believe it. "So, what are you saying?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady as my fingers fidgeted anxiously with the edge of the blanket, a weak attempt to keep myself from falling apart.

Steve moved slowly, deliberately, crossing the room with the weight of a man carrying an unbearable burden. He sat at the edge of my bed, his back turning to me as if facing me would make this all too real. The silence between us was deafening, filled with everything we weren’t saying.

"Maybe we should take a break," he said at last, the words heavy with resignation. "Figure out who we are on our own." His voice was measured, but I could hear the crack beneath the surface, the hint of pain he was trying so hard to conceal. Finally, he turned his head to look at me, his eyes meeting mine with sorrow and determination. "Figure out who you really want," he added, the finality in his voice echoing in the space between us.

He had already made up his mind.

I shook my head vigorously, disbelief washing over me like a cold wave. "I want YOU. I love YOU. You can't just break up with me." My voice wavered, a mixture of shock and desperation. The idea of losing him over a moment of frustration felt unbearable like the ground was crumbling beneath me.

Steve turned to face me fully, his expression pained but resolute. "It’s just a break," he insisted, his voice gentle but firm. "I love you—that will never change. But maybe this will be good for us, give us both the space to figure things out."

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only deepened the ache in my chest. The idea of being apart, even temporarily, felt like an unspoken goodbye, a step toward an uncertain future I wasn’t ready to face. "On Clint’s farm, we talked about having a family, about getting married, and now you want a break? Why, Steve? Why would you do this?" My voice rose, almost a yell, the emotions I’d been holding back now spilling over. The memories of those conversations, filled with hope and dreams for our future, made his sudden decision feel like a betrayal.

He met my gaze, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and frustration that caught me off guard. "Because I wasn’t the one whose name you called out when I thought you were dying."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of my anger. I froze my mouth agape as the realization set in. The name I had whispered in a moment of fear, of vulnerability, wasn’t his. All the fight drained out of me as I sat there, stunned into silence. The air between us grew thick and heavy, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down as the seconds dragged on, feeling like an eternity.

"You were in my arms, and I was begging you to hold on," Steve’s voice trembled, each word heavy with the pain he’d been carrying. "Your blood was everywhere, and I thought... I thought this was it. That I had lost you. But maybe... maybe you were never mine to begin with."

His voice cracked as he laid his heart bare, his vulnerability cutting through the distance between us. "Steve..." I tried to speak, to reach out to him, but he continued as if he hadn’t even heard me.

"You kept calling his name... over and over..." His gaze was distant, unfocused as if he was no longer in the room with me but back in that terrifying moment, reliving the horror all over again. He wasn’t even looking at me anymore, lost in the memory of that day. The anguish in his voice, and the rawness of his emotions, made it clear that this wasn’t just about what I had said—it was about what I had revealed in my most vulnerable state.

At that moment, I realized the depth of the wound I had unknowingly inflicted, a wound that might not be easily healed. I reached out, desperate to bridge the growing chasm between us, and intertwined our fingers, hoping to find some solace in the familiar warmth of his touch. But after a brief hesitation, Steve gently pulled his hand back, leaving mine empty and cold.

"But I love you, Steve... please don’t do this," I pleaded, my voice breaking as tears welled up in my eyes. The thought of losing him felt unbearable like a piece of my heart was being torn away.

His eyes, rimmed with unshed tears, met mine, and for a moment, I saw the depth of his pain reflected there. But even though the love we shared was evident in his gaze, he remained resolute. He didn’t budge, the distance between us growing more palpable, and I realized that this was a battle I might not be able to win.

Steve took a deep breath, the sound heavy in the quiet room, and looked away, his jaw clenched as if he was trying to keep himself together. I could see the conflict in his eyes—the love he still felt for me, the pain he was trying to bury, and the resolve he was struggling to maintain.

"I wish things were different," he finally said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. "I wish I could just forget what happened and move on like it didn’t matter. But it does, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t."

A sudden knock on the door startled both of us, the sound slicing through the thick tension in the room. We flinched, turning our heads in unison toward the door as a familiar voice called out, "It’s me, Nat. Can I come in?"

Panic shot through me. I quickly wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself. Steve rose from the bed, his movements stiff, the weight of our conversation still hanging heavy between us.

"Come in," I called out, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. I glanced at Steve, his expression mirroring the distress that was still etched into every line of his face. His eyes, usually so calm and determined, were clouded with a mix of emotions that I could only begin to understand.

The door opened slowly, and Natasha stepped inside, her sharp eyes instantly assessing the situation. She paused for a moment, taking in the tension that still lingered in the air, the way Steve’s hands were clenched at his sides, and the way I tried to keep my face neutral, even though the tears weren’t completely gone.

"Am I interrupting something?" Natasha asked, her voice carefully neutral, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes as she looked between the two of us.

Steve shook his head slightly, though he avoided looking directly at her. "No, Nat," he said, his voice low and strained. "We were just... finishing up."

She nodded, but her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, as if she could see the storm raging beneath his calm exterior. Then she turned to me, her expression softening just a bit. "I came to check on you. How are you holding up?"

I forced a small smile, though it felt like a fragile thing, ready to crumble at any moment. "I’m okay," I lied, hoping she wouldn’t press too hard. But Natasha was too perceptive for that, and I could tell she didn’t buy it for a second.

Still, she didn’t push. Instead, she offered me a small nod, acknowledging the unspoken pain between us. "Good. I’m here if you need anything." There was an unspoken promise in her words, a reassurance that she was ready to be there for me, no matter what.

Steve took a step toward the door, his movements deliberate but hesitant. "I should go," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. He paused, glancing at me one last time as if searching for something he wasn’t sure he would find.

"Steve..." I started, but the words died on my lips. What was there left to say?

He shook his head slightly, offering a small, sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’ll come by when they discharge you tomorrow," he said softly, his voice tinged with a sense of conclusion. With that, he slipped past Natasha and out the door, the latch clicking shut behind him with a gentle, definitive click.

I lost all my composure the moment Natasha sat down beside me and began to gently stroke my back. "What happened?" she asked quietly, her voice soothing and filled with concern.

I didn’t have the strength to hold back any longer. The dam I had carefully maintained through the pain gave way, and I broke down in her arms, tears streaming down my face as I clung to her for support.

Tags: @capswife

Next Chapter

[emilysidhe]

I just finished A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine, the sequel to A Memory Called Empire, and I *loved* them both, but I’m still going to point out a few nit-picks I have with it, in order of petty to significant:

I do love and appreciate Mahit’s prioritizing her need to keep her sense of self as non-Teixcalaanli by refusing to live in the City until she’s certain that her love of its culture won’t consume her. Nevertheless, as a reader I continue to be more stressed out than the text wants me to be about how and when the Stationers’ visa applications are being processed when their sole-ambassador-who-has-no-staff is two months’ space travel away from her office on Teixcalaan. The one line about having her mail forwarded did not help!

A high-tech space empire typified by massive bureaucracy and high education standards that’s made first contact with aliens at least once before *must* have actual, qualified xeno-linguists somewhere in its government or academia. Three Seagrass assigning herself and Mahit to the task of deciphering an unknown alien language basically because she’s bored at her desk job and wants an excuse to see Mahit again is a way bigger deal than the characters or the text ever acknowledge. They are already having a border war with this species and the stakes of figuring out how to talk to them are so high, and Three Seagrass is like, “Well, as a poet, I’m really good at my own language and Mahit must be good at figuring out foreign languages and cultures since she understands ours so well, so that’s basically the same as being an actual linguist right?” No. I understand that taking someone with official qualifications along would have added another original character to an already expanded cast, and undercut Three Seagrass’s already flimsy excuses to drag Mahit into this, and created a third wheel to get in the way of developing Three Seagrass’ and Mahit’s relationship, but if the author wasn’t going to do it, there should have been either a stronger in-universe justification for Three Seagrass and Mahit to have at least no worse chance of success than a real language specialist like the Fleet requested, or a greater acknowledgement of how huge a dereliction of duty deciding to take an unqualified crack at this herself actually was.

Avoiding explicit spoilers, I didn’t like the resolution to the Darj Tarats subplot. Him being present in the final scene felt very contrived and also pointless. I kept wondering why, from a story perspective, he was even there - right up until his final line, which was like, “well, I guess I know why he had to be here for the story now, but I’m not sure this justifies him adding nothing to that whole previous scene.”

Also, why was he there from a character perspective? Like, he tells Dekakel Onchu that he’s going to do something, and then he doesn’t really seem to try to do that, he just - yells at Mahit in front of the Teixcalaanlitzlim like he thinks if he just berates her harshly enough she’ll make the battle go how he wants with - idk, magic I guess? - even though the general he wants her to manipulate is standing right there listening to all this. I get that he’s supposed to be a ruthless and power-abusing man who has spent so long obsessing over one idea for a master plan that he’s lost sight not only of the moral ramifications but also practical questions about whether it would even work the way he envisioned even if his agents obeyed him completely and has nothing left but to take it out on them when they don’t and it doesn’t, but I’m not sure that he’s intended to come off quite as foolish and shortsighted as he ultimately does.

Anyway, despite what it sounds like, I did genuinely love both of these books (somehow it’s easier to list problems than to genuinely enthuse about all the things I loved!), and I’m really looking forward to rereading them in the context of what I now know from having read them and to seeing what else the author writes in this universe.

[sailxrmxrs]

i truly underestimated the sheer amount of brainrot watching trigun stampede would give me but here we go. this is the culmination of many nights spent scrolling vash fanart and letting the thoughts run wild. circumstances mean there's a gunfight happening and vash is there by your side trying to protect you but oops a bullet scraped past you and now he's taking you to safety asap to patch you up and fret over your wellbeing. protective vash being soft and flustered hits me directly in a weak spot he's just so.....y'know. love that little man.

Surviving in a hellish desert in the throes of summer was already an arduous task in its own right. Settlements and towns were miles upon miles apart, the distance feeling even longer when the horizon was a vast pool of sand as far as the eyes could see. Not to mention the perpetual thirst and hunger that ailed your body at any given time of day. The relief that coming across some semblance of civilisation brought was beyond words. However, enjoying such a sight was too often spoiled by hostile hosts or unsavoury groups. Travelling with Vash the Stampede meant there was never a boring moment, even if he did draw trouble like a magnet. Today was no different, under the unrelenting summer sun was the sound of gunfire. It had been like any other day until someone had recognised Vash and all hell broke loose. As soon as the gunfire started, you both dived for cover shortly before Vash charged off without a second thought to try and take care of things by himself. He always tried to insist that you remained out of danger despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Not once had you let Vash fight alone nor did you intend to start now. Pistol in hand, you held your own, immobilising anyone who came close enough. Never enough to fatally harm them, just enough to leave them unable or unwilling to keep fighting. Vash had been adamant that neither of you would be killers and you were more than happy to comply. Peaceful resolutions were few and far between but that didn't mean lives had to be lost for the sake of some gun fight over a money reward.

Surveying the area, you caught sight of Vash's familiar red coat. He artfully dodged a bullet flying his way, rolling behind a broken-down car for a momentary shelter. A perfect opening to make your way to him. Survival in numbers was always the winning move. You aimed your pistol, shooting at your assailant's feet and sending them off balance. It gave you enough time to jump to Vash's side, ducking just fast enough to dodge the bullet intended for you.

"What are you doing?! You never listen when I tell you to stay out of trouble," Vash complained, pouting as you caught your breath. It was almost impressive how he could sound so casual right in the middle of a direct attack on his life. He reloaded his bullets, lips still downturned though you knew he was secretly grateful for the backup. Even if Vash preferred to keep you out of harm's way, he never once doubted your ability to keep up with him.

"And let you have all the fun? No thanks." More gunshots struck the body of the car, swiftly ending any attempts at conversation. There would be time to talk things over later. First you had to get out with your lives in tact. You and Vash shared a look, silently communicating the usual plan of action and within an instant you were jumping back into the fray. In any other instance, being outnumbered would be cause for worry but with Vash at your side you knew that you would prevail. He hadn't earned his infamous reputation for nothing. Even if he was secretly far softer and much less prone to violence than the wanted posters suggested, his skill with a gun was on another level—though a decent helping of luck no doubt factored into his survival. Vash shouted over the cacophony of sounds, only just audible as he checked in with you. Even in the midst of battle Vash was as attentive as the situation allowed him to be. Every time you'd shout back that you were fine, that he should worry about himself but it did little to quell his worries.

The distant sound of cars approaching sounded from the deserted town centre. Whoever was leading this gang had called for backup and soon you and Vash were going to be surrounded. Your attackers were focused on Vash, intent on taking down the Humanoid Typhoon before worrying about the unnamed partner he'd found himself. He was worth a lot more in their eyes, which gave the perfect opportunity to slip away and take care of the threat before it became an even bigger problem. Usually you'd like to let Vash know if you were disappearing off somewhere but circumstance didn't allow it and you just had to hope he'd be able to find you once it was all over. You sprinted down past an old bar, its windows once boarded up but now littered with bullet holes. The place was certainly a ghost town. There had been no sign of life until a suspicious looking individual had emerged from the shadows asking who Vash was. There was no telling what troubles they'd caused here to clear out the townsfolk. Still, you couldn't dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What mattered here was getting out safely. And maybe finding some salvageable food and water to sustain you and Vash on the next leg of your journey.

Peeking out from an abandoned home, you caught sight of five men standing in what used to be the town centre. Whoever these people were they were no amateurs, at least judging by the size of their guns anyway. This could end poorly if you weren't careful. A more defensive approach was in order; sticking to the shadows to conceal your whereabouts was likely the only way you'd come out of this alive. You climbed through the broken window to the empty building beside you, making your way upstairs and onto the balcony. The wood of the balcony seemed to be holding together well enough to keep you mostly hidden from view with a few stray cracks and holes to keep an eye on your targets. It was the perfect spot to line up your gun and take aim without getting yourself caught too soon. You just had to hope the wooden barrier was enough to keep you from harm until you'd taken enough of them down. Your sight was limited, but even a few misses could suffice as warning shots to deter them from getting involved. On many occasions you'd watched grown men run screaming when a bullet struck metres away from their feet. All bark and no bite. Though something told you these men wouldn't go down quite so easily. Your intuitions proved accurate, the blind shots doing little to scare them off.

Within a few shots, your position was compromised and your targets had begun their own onslaught of bullets. A number of bullets struck the balcony though you still remained out of sight for the time being, the few hits you'd managed to land working in your favour to skew their aim. Judging by the speed at which they shot, you'd need to make a move. And fast. If one of them decided to make a run for the house you'd be without a solid escape route. Then, a bullet came flying, striking a wood panel beside you and giving your attackers a direct chance to shoot. You leapt up from your spot, running back into the house to make your escape. Footsteps thundered up the stairs leaving you no choice but to engage. Despite his imposing size, the man was not well-trained in close combat. His moves were predictable and clumsy, leaving one too many openings for you to take advantage of and send him crashing down unconscious. One threat down meant only four more to take care of. Then there was Vash and whatever chaos he was involved in right now. You couldn't let your concern for him cloud you judgement, pushing those fears aside as you made your way down and back out of the window you'd climbed in from. Gunshots were firing at an alarming rate though there was little strategy in it. They didn't know where you were just yet. Waiting behind the wall to the house, you let them edge closer before ambushing them with a fresh round of bullets. Now that you were on ground level, you could see two of the assailants holding back, no weapons in sight—though there was no counting on them being unarmed.

As shots fired, you tried to manoeuvre around the onslaught of ammunition but without sufficient cover you couldn't escape the scrapes of a few bullets. Cursing under your breath as one shot past your cheek and split the skin, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Vash. He was running like a fire had been lit inside of him. There was an intensity upon his face that you rarely ever saw. Even in the most dangerous and dire of situations, Vash always managed to send you a beaming smile. He was truly the embodiment of sunshine. But right now he was the eye of a storm crashing over all in its wake. He was ruthless with his shots, each one striking true and sending your attackers to the ground. Still alive, but perhaps wishing they weren't. The two men who had been hanging back and watching remained out of Vash's line of sight and, for the time being, out of danger. Not if you could help it. Raising your gun, you set onto the two remaining assailants. They were quick to return fire as they backed towards their car.

"Let them go. We need to get out of here," Vash called, making his way over to you. "Are you oka—" Vash halted mid-sentence, spotting the slow drip of blood down your cheek. Without another word, he was scooping you into his arms and running despite your protests. It was a minor injury, not one to panic over. But Vash didn't seem to think so. He carried you off to the other side of town, making for one of the abandoned homes still in good enough shape to act as sufficient shelter. He sat you down on an old leather couch, the material torn up and worn, as he rummaged through drawers in the neighbouring kitchen to look for something to clean the wound with.

"Can I trust you to stay there while I go back to our car? Assuming it's still in one piece, that is," Vash asked, eyeing up with caution. Worried knitted his brows as he contemplated leaving you here alone and unprotected.

"I can walk, you know? It's just a little scratch."

Vash shook his head, blonde hair as animated as his expression. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"Am now. Stay there." Vash made for the doorway before turning back to add, "I'm glad you're okay."

When he returned with some supplies, Vash set to cleaning your wound. The bleeding had long since stopped but he was adamant that it required his utmost attention. His movements were gentle as he wiped away the dried blood with a dampened rag of fabric while his other hand softly holding your chin in place. He always touched you with a delicate sense of care, but this felt almost as if he were scared to break you any further. Despite his tenderness, something darker seemed to linger in Vash's face. As if he felt guilty for not being there just that little bit sooner. None of this was his fault. There was no way to predict such an attack would happen. It was simply the way of the land. Whether Vash viewed it that way or not was another matter entirely. Once he deemed you cleaned up and devoid of any other injuries, Vash tossed aside the cloth and leaned forward in his seat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, usually full of energy after making a safe escape from a fight.

"Vash?" Your voice was low, tentative so as not to startle him. "Please don't blame yourself for what happened out there. I'm fine, see?"

His eyes remained fixed on a hole in the flooring as he responded. "They came after us because of me. You got hurt because I wasn't fast enough."

"No." You immediately denied his admissions of guilt, edging closer to place your hands on his cheeks. They were as soft as usual, tinted pink from sun exposure. His eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill down those rosy cheeks. "This isn't your fault, Vash."

"I was so scared. I thought I'd taken care of the last of them then I turn and see you're gone. I heard gunshots and—" He paused, voice cracking. "You don't know how I relieved I was to see you still alive."

Your heart ached, knowing all too well the fear that had likely stricken him in that moment. "I promised that we were in this together, didn't I? Can't go breaking it just yet." You smiled, heart fluttering at the sight of Vash mirroring the action. Your thumb swiped at a stray tear as you left a soft kiss on the bridge of Vash's nose. His cheeks warmed a deeper shade as he tried to pull away. He flustered easily but still tried to hide it every time to no avail.

"Think we're good here for the night? We could do with sleeping in an actual bed for once. One more night in the car might actually kill me."

Vash nodded, hands finding yours as he pulled you up from your spot on the couch. "Practice for the future, hm? All cosy in a little house. Could be nice. So long as you don't mind the bounty, that is."

"It's worth it if it's you." Vash's hold on your hands dropped, his hands moving to cover his bright, blushing face. Your laugh chimed with the sound of his whining complaints. What the future held in store for you and Vash was unknown, but you were certain that so long as he was smiling, all would be well.

[saderplate7]

LONG POST TIME: SONGWRITING WITH SADER

in honor of it officially being 2025, i would like to state that i SUCCESSFULLY followed my 2024 new year's resolution: to write a song per month so i'd have 12 by the end of the year. it is now 2025 and i am happy to announce:

I WROTE SIXTEEN SONGS IN 2024 AND NOW I'M GOING TO TALK ABOUT THEM!

JANUARY: -pass me a note. originally intended to be the theme music for someone else's podcast. then i changed my mind about that so i made it into a good omens song.

FEBRUARY: -twin-sized coffin. for sure my best production of the year, also some of my best lyrics. the only song of the year to have harmonies. it's about moral orel!

MARCH: -joy ride. (not kesha's, i swear.) my second and more successful attempt to write theme music for the aforementioned podcast. it was also my first ever song that i heard somebody else sing! (they did not use my voice for the podcast)

APRIL: -not today. my cop-out song. i had no motivation so i wrote about that. it's only about a minute and a half long.

MAY: -are you having fun yet? had an absolute nightmare of a time trying to record this one, and in fact i still do not have a good recording of it. it's my own fault though. it's about the stanley parable!

JUNE: -common threads. my best song of 2024. best combination of lyrics and music. i'm a little bit obsessed with the bridge of this one also.

JULY (songwriting summer!): -nice things. i tried to make it jonathan-larson-esque. i really like its chorus. i wrote it after the gaiman allegations and that's all i'll say about that -descendants song. i cannot shut up about this descendants song (i have a whole tag for it, check it out if you want). and soon it will be performed by real life people and i'm very very excited. -if you were into it. definitely does not count as a completed song but i would be remiss if i didn't include it. it was a fraction of a song, written for a very old wip that i probably won't return to for a While, if at all. but i had a lot of fun with it.

AUGUST: -along the way. i wrote this one on a very frustrated, upset, exhausted day. in fact i was so exhausted that it doesn't have an instrumental, it's just me hitting the table in lieu of percussion.

SEPTEMBER: -million-dollar smile. the frustration continues! i was very stressed out and not very happy when i wrote this one, but i am a fan of its chorus.

OCTOBER: -the way iamb. i really like this one- it makes me very happy. part of it is in iambic pentameter. it will possibly eventually be a part of a Larger Project. we shall see.

NOVEMBER: -unsure of myself. very very short piece, honestly barely even counts, but it was my only ukulele accompaniment and i thought it was cute. -want you to want me. i wrote THIS one about a play nobody has ever heard of! has some pretty decent melodies in it.

DECEMBER: -hashbrown hanukkah. i wrote this one when i was extraordinarily sad. -you need jesus. i was so sad after writing the previous one that i wrote this one in the SAME NIGHT. i had never written two songs in a day before. this one was not sad. it was a LOT of fun. for the same possible project as the october song.

IN CONCLUSION i'm going to try to keep this up!!! and if you actually read all of this, you must not have anything to do right now! and i hope you enjoyed!!!