#like this is supposed to be a horror story and it's just not horrifying enough

[vintagedean]

okay, because i won't leave reviews for these books on goodreads, i have to do it here, so i'm going to try and present some level-headed and sincere critiques of k. webster's "laska" (and her writing more generally)

k. webster clearly thinks incest is hot. she thinks rape is hot. she thinks age gaps are hot. i think 2 out of those 3 things are hot myself (FICTIONALLY OBVIOUSLY BUT JUST TO BE CLEAR). but my issue is that she doesn't seem to appreciate that any story, regardless of how shocking and taboo and smutty it's intended to be, benefits from build up. and taboo topics become more interesting, more complex, and more gratifying to get off to, if i'm gonna be so fucking for real about this, when you actually give them weight. the taboo being broken has to matter.

idk, maybe it's just me, but i would just prefer if a story like "laska" (which is quite short) still did more than it does to get at why these two brothers like to fuck, why they like to eat people, why they're corrupted in these particular ways. maybe there are people who, the fact of these things is enough to be arousing, but i just think that's boring. under the read more i'm including the last two pages because i think they give a good example of what has me rolling my eyes at this story. shock for shock's sake is just meh to me.

[light-wrath-paradise]

Me right now: "The Smitten is just like me for real."

Like???? I hope not??????

[phoenixcatch7]

Honestly I'd really like to see a mxtx3 story where wwx and xl work with Sqq to reveal sqq's true backstory and the system to lbh.

I mean, think about it!! One of the biggest problems with scum villain is how even though they get together, unlike the other couples bingqiu is still left with all these huge secrets that massively affect them both. Lbh is left believing he married his mercurial abuser, that his suffering passed some sort of indefinable test that proved him worthy of basic rights. That Sqq threw him in the abyss of his own volition. That Sqq was really sacrificing his life and not faking his death with intent to survive.

Sqq is left knowing all these things but unable to act on them, unable to tell his husband about his own past, unable to explain his actions, never able to fully let his guard down because he's supposed to be shen qingqiu. He can't even tell his own husband his original name!! If he could have, he would have, even if only in the extras!

But can you imagine???

A meeting of bingqiu, wangxian, Hualian, for whatever reason, and as the three (actual) protagonists chat and gossip and get to know each other, as they talk, Sqq is at ease enough to slip up and finds out he can talk about the system to anyone from outside pidw! Not just sqh!! Maybe not completely, but he can mention some, and the other two, concerned for their new friend, are clever enough to tease the rest out. They're horrified. Sqq is resigned but freshly hopeful.

And so begins Mission: Save Sqq's Marriage!

(Sqq would very much like to contend the title but he is out voted.)

I'd just love to see the three of them (with unquestioning aid from their husbands) get up to hijinks and face existential horrors on a quest to help bingqiu get the closure they need. And moshang too, I guess XD.

It'd also be very, very funny to have them all in the middle of the latest traumatic and/or mortifying scene look around at the other two like 'hey, aren't you supposed to be freaking out now? This is normally the part people start screaming' and the other two are like 'I mean I guess?? We've got things to do though' like kings of unflappable repression right there.

(and lbh and lwj having vinegar-offs while hc is sighing dreamily watching his husband make semi decent friends for once)

Like there's a bunch of crossovers but none really scratch that itch, you know? The main characters of all 3 mxtx?? There's so much potential for Truly Unhinged Shenanigans!! Wangxian visiting pidws wife plot filled world and disappearing into the wilderness for a full week, coming back with every single piece of clothing they brought ruined. Hualian go visit mdzs and and no one believes xl is a diety and hc chomping at the bit to kill them for the injustice. Bingqiu going to tgcf and lbh getting mistaken for a calamity, or Sqq falling into the one wife plot kidnapping or something intended for a diety.

But seriously imagine Sqq complaining about something and wwx and xl immediately going 'that's not right! You deserve better!!' and Sqq is like 'no it's fine I'm used to it' and the other two slam their fists on the table like 'no!!! If [husband] was forced to keep that kind of secret I'd hate it!! You two deserve to be properly happy!! Let us help! We can fix this!' and start working with zeal and vigor while Sqq trails along embarrassed half heartedly muttering 'it's not that bad >:/'.

And when it works (presumably some clever loophole they stumbled on) and bingqiu are tearfully kissing they share a low five without looking. Or that one meme where the person getting kissed holds their hand back and their wingman enthusiastically high fives it but there's two wingmen XD!

I don't knowww but it'd be such a good premise! Ripe for character interactions!! Fluff! Crack! Angst! Daytrips and pouring their hearts out to people who'd really understand! Xl wwx and Sqq bestie team up! Meeting moshang! Wwx info dumping about his monster index categorisation to an enthralled Sqq! Xl and Sqq bemoaning etiquette while wwx laughs at them! Xl and wwx having intense discussions about morality and righteousness! All three of them laughing at how oblivious they were about their husbands, each trying to one the other two for Dumb Moments They Should Have Realised (Sqq wins by horrifying the other two)!

Forget cross country kidnappings and being locked in a room! Where is my protagonist trio getting into trouble on a self imposed mission to help their friend! Let their magnetism for insanity shine!!

[bogkeep]

(For the morning)

I like books where characters struggle with autonomy ;0 I recently got into Queen’s Thief and I’m loving it, and I enjoy the Raven’s Tower a lot. Goblin Emperor is next on my list currently

ohohoho yesss one of the tastiest themes of all... the queen's thief is SO good!! i haven't heard of the raven's tower but i should look it up :3

- murderbot diaries by martha wells is the first thing that comes to mind. it's about a 'security unit' who has hacked its government module and has free will now. it mostly uses the free will to watch tv series while doing its job because it still exists within the hellscape of capitalism. most of the books are novellas and they're all so delightful. big hit among aroace and autistic audiences.

- the second book of the wayfarers series is also about a robot struggling with her newfound autonomy that she never asked or wished for. i love this whole series a lot - it's often described as a 'cozy sci-fi' that focuses on characters and personal struggles than the general fate of the universe. each book follows a different set of characters, but they usually have a connection to the previous characters and there is a bit of continuity. i've seen that becky chambers' work can often be a hit or miss for people, depending on whether they feel like the plot has stakes enough for them of if it's too saccharine and optimistic. (i personally think it hits just right, or at least it did when i read them. i feel like these books heralded the current 'cozy fantasy' trend, which i haven't really looked into but seems to be the subject of Discourse)

- if you like the goblin emperor, the lays of the hearth-fire series (hands of the emperor + at the feet of the sun) by victoria goddard has More Of That :3 it follows cliopher mdang, who has scraped his way to the top of the government despite all the doubts and naysayers and systems against him, to become the lord emperor's secretary and right hand man (well, both hands man, as the title implies). his lord emperor is so deeply bound by the taboos and traditions of his position he can't touch people, look them in the eye, or even eat fresh fruit, and it's slowly killing him from the inside. it all starts to change when cliopher invites the lord emperor to visit his faraway homeland for a vacation, something he's never had in all his years as the emperor. i just read these books and i'm obsessed haha

- some desperate glory by emily tesh is a sci-fi one-off about a warrior girl who grows up in a death cult that's supposed to avenge earth. despite being the best at warrioring, she gets assigned to the nursery so she can breed even gooder warriors, which is such a horrifying notion even she struggles to follow orders, and then many things unravel spectacularly. very much a book about clawing your way through the death cult programming, also the kind of book one might check the CWs for first (such as forced pregnancy, though the MC escapes it herself)

- all for the game by nora sakavic!! the original trilogy follows neil josten, who's been on the run from a criminal empire most of his life, but gets violently roped into playing college sports which is also the only thing he has ever cared about. the sport (exy) is made up, the whole plot is absolutely batshit bonkers (think sports anime but the yakuza is there), everything is super edgy, and i love this series so so much i think i've read it four or five times by now (and i will read it again). the author has recently started writing a sequel trilogy that follows jean moreau, a character that died in every original draft but stayed alive in the final story, and now has to deal with the horrors of that (cult deprogramming arc baybeeee). also the kind of series i can't recommend without a hefty dose of content warnings - it's got Everything, from SA and SH to non-consensual drug use to character death and violence.

- captive prince trilogy by c s pacat is another favourite series of mine. it's a fantasy court intrigue & romance, about a prince who's given as a slave to another prince who is Also a captive in many ways, and if they manage to ally together, maybe they can outmaneuver the forces against them... it's just too bad that the first prince killed the other prince's beloved brother so many years ago. big big content warning for SA as a recurring trauma theme in this series. i have read these books several times, i know exactly what happens next, but they keep me up reading late at night every single time while i kick my feetsies with delight.

anyway those are the books i can think of right now...!!! maybe i will add more later if i remember :3

[13leaguestories]

This came randomly to me after I understood all the characters and their personalities and stuff, buuutttt, how would they react if they went through the dream Roe had at the beginning of S1? The one they told the therapist? And how would they look or respond to Roe after being told that’s what happened to them?

I’m mostly curious about the main crew like Chris, Sydero, Bradley, Rahim etc.

(Absolutely loving superstition and your writing and I’m sitting here waiting for the rewrite like a child waiting to play games with their parent)

It's chugging along, Anon. Hopefully I can share more soon.

So, Chris actually knows about the dream. As he obviously knows why Roe is going to therapy. So canon is Chris does just think it's a dream and agrees with the therapist where they always say it was just a way to explain the trauma in a more child-like manner.

Going through it, Chris wouldn't have told anybody. He'd be traumatized to hell and back but he would have kept it all to himself and tried to rationalize it away.

I'm trying to remember if Sydero knows but I think she knows the gist but not all of it. Either way, she'd probably be able to understand Roe the best since going through her own childhood trauma in Hell with "The Box." Going through it I think she'd come out like how she came out of her own ordeal, traumatized and that trauma is absorbed into her personality.

Not doing Zillah cos he knows what happened and it's kind of hard to transfer someone who knows what happened to a T into something.

Interesting enough, Rahim didn't go through childhood trauma, not in the same way as Syd and Roe so I do think if he did go through Roe's dream then he'd be different but my gosh I can't even imagine how. As he is very much a momma's boy so what would her death + the horror of it do to him. Like, would he be more Sydero coded??

If Roe told him I think he'd try and give them some bullshit excuse or some sentiment that means nothing, mostly because of the angel's hand in everything. He's not good when it hits too close too home.

Amari is a good one because she would 100% be horrified if Roe told her and she would just be speechless. I think she would be horrified of shades after that and she would definitely start asking the important questions like "do all the reaper hybrid kids go through that" and "what would have happened if it worked out like it was supposed too."

She wouldn't survive it I think. I think if Amari lost her mother the same way as Roe, she would not be anything like she is now. She would be so much more of a shell, no bubbly personality or positive outlook.

Chanara doesn't know, doesn't even have an idea of what happens for the reaper hybrids. She knows they exist and Death needs them but that's about it. So, I do think if Chanara knew she would start questioning leadership. She's a good soldier but she's not great at hiding her thoughts when she doesn't agree with something, which is why she mostly tries to mind her own business.

If she went through it I think it would be similar to Roe but mix a bit of Winchester spirit in there. Chanara wouldn't have just chalked it up to a dream and would have doubted the "true story" until she learned of the supernatural and went on a revenge journey.

And lastly, Bradley would probably be like "damn, you too." I might even try to incorporate Roe telling him because I think that at the very least the OG crew (Syd, Chris, and Bradley) should know about it. If Bradley went through it then just add shades too the list of the beings he detests. If Bradley was Roe, Zillah wouldn't have made it because Bradley would have done everything he could too flip the tables and make Zillah pay and wipe him off the face of the planet.

[sebstanaddict]

Sebastian Takes IKEA

Sebastian Stan x Reader (Unhinged One Shot)

Summary : What happens when Sebastian visits IKEA with reader? Get ready for some unhinged, chaotic adventure with Sebastian who is an adorkable, chaotic, mess of a boyfriend but who is still cute of course ;)

Warning : None, this is just a hilarious, unhinged story born out of my stressed out mind XD

Word count : 7.9k

Read more Sebastian Stan one shot here

Important: This story is not sponsored nor affiliated with IKEA at all. The IKEA brand belongs to IKEA. No copyright infringement intended.

---

It was supposed to be a simple Sunday outing—nothing too wild, just a quick trip to IKEA to grab a new bookshelf, maybe grab some plants Y/n would inevitably forget to water, and head home. But Y/n should have known better than to think anything with Sebastian Stan could ever be simple. The man had the energy of a Labrador retriever that had just discovered tennis balls, and IKEA, with its endless possibilities, was his new playground.

"Princess," he whispered dramatically, his eyes wide and sparkling like a kid on Christmas morning. "Do you smell that?"

Y/n, already regretting her life choices, sniffed half-heartedly. "Cheap particleboard and desperation?"

"No," he gasped, clutching his chest like she'd just insulted his family honor. "Swedish meatballs. We're going to the restaurant first."

"Seb, we're here for a bookshelf."

"We're here for an experience," he corrected, already dragging her toward the heavenly smell of gravy and carbs.

By the time they reached the cafeteria, Sebastian had gone full kid-in-a-candy-store mode. He grabbed a tray, then another tray, and slapped them both onto the rail with the precision of someone auditioning for The Great British Bake Off.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asked, watching in disbelief as he started piling food onto the trays like he was feeding a family of twelve.

"Fuel, Princess," he said gravely, his hands steady as he loaded not one, but two family-sized plates of meatballs onto the tray. "We have a long journey ahead."

"I can't eat that many!" Y/n protested.

"Don't worry," he said, throwing in a side of mashed potatoes and some suspicious-looking lingonberry jam. "I'll eat yours if you can't finish. It's called being a gentleman."

"That's not what being a gentleman means—"

"Do you want dessert?" He grabbed two slices of Daim cake without waiting for her answer.

"Sebastian—"

"And cinnamon rolls! Oh my God, they have cinnamon rolls." He nearly dove over the counter.

By the time they sat down, their table looked like a Scandinavian buffet gone rogue. Y/n stared at the food in horror. "There are people in line behind us, you know."

"Relax, I left them some," Sebastian said, cracking his knuckles. He picked up his fork like he was entering a championship. "Now, Princess, let's talk strategy."

"Strategy?"

"Meatball-eating contest. Loser buys the first thing we see in the maze. Ready? Go!"

Y/n barely had time to blink before Sebastian started shoveling meatballs into his mouth like his life depended on it. It was both horrifying and mesmerizing, like watching a nature documentary about a bear gorging on salmon.

"Oh my God, chew!" Y/n yelled, fork halfway to her mouth.

Sebastian, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, held up one finger in defiance as he tried to speak. It sounded like, "Mmffh mmfhfh mmf," which Y/n assumed translated to, "I'm winning."

Then it happened.

The choke.

Sebastian froze mid-shovel, his eyes wide as he clutched his throat. For a horrifying second, Y/n thought he might actually be dying. She shot up, knocking her chair over.

"Seb, are you choking?!" she yelled, panic and exasperation flooding her voice in equal measure.

He waved her off dramatically, his face turning beet red. "I'm fine!" he wheezed, barely able to get the words out. "Just a—hiccup!"

"Hiccup?! You sound like a dying walrus!" She slapped his back hard enough to dislodge what she assumed was the offending meatball.

Sebastian erupted into a series of coughs so loud the entire restaurant turned to stare. An elderly woman at the next table gasped, clutching her pearls. A kid nearby whispered, "Is that Bucky Barnes?" to his dad, who shushed him while pulling out his phone to record.

"I'm—fine—cough—don't call 911!" Sebastian croaked between gasps, grinning like an idiot as he pounded his chest. "I just got overexcited."

"Overexcited?!" Y/n hissed, smacking him again for good measure. "You nearly died over a meatball."

"Not just any meatball," he corrected, his voice hoarse but triumphant. "A Swedish meatball."

"I'm leaving you here," she declared, grabbing her purse.

"You won't leave me," he said confidently, picking up his fork again as though nothing had happened. "You love me too much."

"Yeah, well, love has limits."

He grinned at her, his mouth full of meatball, and she groaned. "Princess," he said, still chewing, "if I go down, tell the world I died like a true Viking."

"You'll die a moron."

"And you'll miss me."

Y/n shoved one of her remaining meatballs into her mouth and rolled her eyes. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Does this mean I win?"

"You literally almost died. No, you don't win."

"Fine," he said dramatically, leaning back like he'd just fought in battle. "I'll let you have this one. But only because I'm feeling generous."

Y/n laughed despite herself. She knew this was just the warm-up. The real chaos was yet to come.

—

Once they survived the Great Meatball Incident of 2024, Y/n reluctantly allowed Sebastian to take the lead into IKEA's infamous maze. He strutted in like he was a Viking warrior entering Valhalla, with Y/n trailing behind, already bracing herself for whatever nonsense was about to unfold.

The maze stretched before them like an endless labyrinth of furniture possibilities. To Y/n, it was a practical place to pick up a bookshelf. To Sebastian, it was the ultimate playground.

"Princess," he whispered reverently, grabbing a store map like it was a treasure map. "This place... it's beautiful."

"It's just furniture, Seb."

He turned to her, scandalized. "Just furniture? This isn't just furniture, Y/n. It's a temple of design. A cathedral of self-assembly. A—oh my God, look at that couch!"

Before she could stop him, he sprinted toward a bright yellow sectional like a Labrador chasing a tennis ball.

"Sebastian, stop! You're going to get us kicked out!"

But it was too late. He flopped onto the couch dramatically, throwing his arms out wide. "It's perfect," he declared, tilting his head back like he was filming a commercial. "Imagine this in our living room. You, me, movie night. I'll make the popcorn."

Y/n crossed her arms, unimpressed. "It's five thousand dollars, and it's bright yellow. It looks like Big Bird got flattened."

Sebastian gasped like she'd insulted his ancestors. "How dare you. Big Bird wishes he could be this chic."

"Get up," she hissed, yanking him off the couch before an employee could notice.

But that was only the beginning.

—

An hour later, Y/n was sure they were lost. IKEA's maze was designed to confuse and trap, and Sebastian had taken every wrong turn possible while enthusiastically testing everything.

"Seb, I swear, if you sit in one more chair—"

"Princess, come here!" he shouted from across the showroom, cutting her off. He was perched on an egg-shaped hanging chair, swinging wildly. "This is it. This is the chair I want to die in."

"You're going to die in IKEA if you don't behave."

"Do you think they sell this in blue? It would match my eyes."

"Sebastian, it's eight hundred dollars, and we came here for a bookshelf!"

"Fine, fine." He sighed dramatically, hopping out of the chair. But not before it swung back and smacked into a display table, sending a stack of carefully placed catalogs crashing to the ground.

"SEBASTIAN!" Y/n whisper-yelled, frantically picking up the mess.

He grabbed a random catalog and held it up like evidence. "It's fine. I'll pay for it. It's not my fault they don't childproof their displays."

"You're the child!"

"I know." He grinned, unrepentant. "Let's find the bookshelf."

They eventually found their way to the storage section, where Y/n carefully measured and compared options. Meanwhile, Sebastian discovered the tiny model rooms and immediately began role-playing like a lunatic.

"Princess," he called from the corner, standing in a fake kitchen. He had a spatula in one hand and a fake orange in the other. "Welcome to Chef Sebastian's Bistro. Can I interest you in our specialty? Swedish meatballs."

Y/n didn't even look up. "You're not funny."

"Yes, I am." He grabbed a pretend pot and mimed stirring it. "I'll have dinner ready by eight. Don't forget to pick up our hypothetical kids from soccer practice."

"Seb, I'm serious, help me pick a bookshelf!"

"I AM helping," he said, plopping onto a nearby beanbag. "Emotional support is still support."

She shot him a glare so sharp it could have cut through plywood. Begrudgingly, he got up and began half-heartedly reading the product tags. "Ooh, this one's called Billy. Do we want a bookshelf with a name? Seems sketchy."

"I'm going to leave you here."

"You wouldn't dare."

She whipped around, pointing at him. "Try me."

Sebastian immediately straightened up and grabbed the first box he saw. "This one looks great! Let's get it."

"That's a TV stand."

"It holds things. Same difference."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

After a while Y/n found a sleek, modern shelf she liked. Sebastian, however, was drawn to a massive, overly ornate piece that looked like it belonged in a vampire castle.

"This one has character," he said, running his hand dramatically over the dark wood.

"This one has fifty shades of overkill," Y/n shot back.

"But imagine me standing in front of it, brooding like Dracula." He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with a mock cape flourish.

"Seb, we don't need Dracula energy in the apartment. We need something that won't fall apart when I stack three Harry Potters on it."

Reluctantly, he agreed to her choice, but not without pretending to sob dramatically into the yellow bag. Y/n ignored him and immediately made her way to the warehouse to pick up the flat-pack boxes with Sebastian following her reluctantly. But he soon forgot about the Dracula bookshelf as they entered the kids' section.

—-

The kids' section of IKEA was a chaotic symphony of bright colors, tiny furniture, and the occasional squeal of joy from little ones running wild. For most adults, it was a pit stop. For Sebastian Stan, it was the main event.

"Oh my God, Y/n, look at this!" Sebastian exclaimed, holding up a child-sized chair shaped like a ladybug. He plopped himself down on it, his long legs sticking out awkwardly as he wiggled back and forth. "It's so cozy! Imagine me working from home in this."

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms as she watched him. "Seb, that chair is for toddlers."

"Okay, but what if it's also for emotionally stunted adults?" he countered, giving her a cheeky grin.

"Then it's perfect for you," she quipped, walking over to a display of miniature wooden kitchens.

Sebastian was already on the move, spotting a stuffed shark that was practically as big as a small child. He grabbed it and held it up like a prized catch. "Princess, look! It's Bruce from "Finding Nemo"! We're adopting him."

"That's not Bruce," Y/n corrected with a laugh. "And we don't need another giant plushie. You already have a giant teddy bear back home."

"Bruce and Clark can bond," he said, referring to Clark, the giant teddy bear he got when they visited Harrods in London last year, clutching the shark protectively. "They'll be besties."

Y/n rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She'd learned long ago that Sebastian had a soft spot for anything ridiculous—and honestly, it was one of the things she loved about him.

"Y/n!" Sebastian exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a child-sized wooden train set on a low display table. "Look at this craftsmanship! This is... this is art!"

Before she could respond, he crouched down next to the table and grabbed the tiny train. With the fervor of a child on Christmas morning, he began pushing it around the track. "Choo-choo! Next stop: Tiny Town!"

Y/n stood over him with her arms crossed, already exhausted. "Seb, it's for kids."

"And I am thriving," he replied without missing a beat. He adjusted the tracks to send the train through a miniature tunnel. "This is an engineering marvel. Do you see this? I could do this all day."

"You can't do this all day," Y/n said, sighing. "We're supposed to be buying furniture."

"I'm multitasking!" He glanced up at her with a grin. "Look, this is a creative break. Helps the brain. You should try it."

Before she could retort, a little boy wandered over, clutching a stuffed giraffe under one arm. His eyes widened as he stared at Sebastian. "Can I play?" the boy asked softly.

Sebastian's face lit up like he'd been waiting for this exact moment. "Absolutely!" he said, handing the train over like he was bestowing an ancient treasure. "You're the new conductor. Take good care of Tiny Town."

The boy beamed, immediately engrossed in the tracks, while Sebastian crouched beside him, giving pointers. "Okay, careful on that turn—oh! Nice save. You've got skills, kid."

Y/n leaned against a nearby display, watching them. Her annoyance softened as she saw the boy giggle, his mom smiling warmly from a distance. Sebastian had this way of making everyone around him feel special, even total strangers.

When the boy's mom came to collect him, she gave Sebastian a grateful nod. "You're really good with kids."

Sebastian straightened up, puffing out his chest. "Thank you. I've been training my whole life for this."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Come on, Mr. Conductor. Let's—"

"WAIT," Sebastian shouted, already sprinting toward a pirate ship-themed bunk bed. "LOOK AT THIS."

Y/n groaned. "Oh no."

Before she could stop him, he grabbed a foam sword from the display and jumped onto the upper bunk. "Ahoy, mateys! Captain Sebastian of the IKEA Seas has arrived!" He waved the sword dramatically. "Who dares challenge me for my treasure?"

Two kids, no older than seven, squealed with glee and immediately ran to grab the other foam swords. Within seconds, Sebastian was locked in an epic sword fight, ducking under the bunk bed and shouting pirate jargon like, "Ye'll never take me gold!" and "To the plank with ye, scallywags!"

More kids joined in, grabbing toy swords and pretending to attack Captain Sebastian. He played along, expertly pretending to lose balance and stumble. "Oh no! You're too strong!" he shouted as a particularly determined five-year-old jabbed him in the leg.

The scene spiraled into chaos, with at least six kids laughing and chasing him around the bunk bed while their parents stood nearby, watching with amused smiles. Y/n tried to act annoyed, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Sebastian was laughing, fully immersed, his hair sticking out in all directions from being ambushed. The kids adored him, clinging to his arms, giggling uncontrollably as he let them "capture" him.

Her heart softened, warmth blooming in her chest. Despite his ridiculousness—or maybe because of it—Sebastian had this infectious joy about him. Watching him like this, surrounded by laughter and little faces full of glee, she couldn't help but imagine him one day playing with their own kids. The thought made her chest tighten in a way that was both terrifying and beautiful.

Eventually, Sebastian surrendered, dropping to the floor dramatically as the kids cheered. "You win, pirates! The treasure is yours!" He shot Y/n a cheeky grin as he lay there, surrounded by tiny conquerors. "You see this? I just made their day."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly fun," he corrected, standing up and brushing himself off. As the kids dispersed, he grabbed her hand, still grinning. "Alright, Princess, where to next?"

But Y/n didn't answer, her gaze fixed on a quiet corner of the section where a small crib was on display. It was simple, painted white, with soft blankets folded neatly inside. A tiny stuffed bear sat in one corner, its button eyes staring up at her.

Sebastian followed her gaze, his playful demeanor softening. "Hey," he said gently, stepping closer. "You okay?"

She turned to him, biting her lip. "Do you ever think about it? About... having kids someday?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but only for a moment. Then, a slow, warm smile spread across his face. "All the time," he admitted.

Her breath hitched. "You do?"

"Of course." He moved closer, resting a hand on her waist. "I mean, look at me. I've been practicing for years. Foam swords, train sets, pirate invasions—I'm ready."

She let out a soft laugh, her eyes dropping to the crib. "What if... What if it's not that simple? What if it's hard, or we're not good at it?"

"Then we figure it out," he said, his voice steady. He cupped her face, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "Y/n, we'll be chaotic, and messy, and maybe a little clueless sometimes. But I know we'll be great. Because we'll do it together."

Her eyes watered, but she smiled. "You're really serious about this."

"About you? Always," he said. Then, with a playful smirk, he added, "Besides, I'd be an amazing dad. Imagine the bedtime stories I'd come up with. They'd be epic."

She laughed, leaning into him. "Okay, fine. You win. You'll be a great dad someday."

"And you'll be the best mom," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in their little bubble, the world of IKEA fading away.

Then Sebastian broke the moment by whispering, "So... can we get the crib? You know, for 'future planning.'"

"Sebastian!"

"Okay, okay! No crib. But I'm keeping Bruce."

"Fine. Now let's go. We need to get to the warehouse." Y/n said, sighing as she dragged him with her but she couldn't help a smile from escaping her lips.

—

On their way to the warehouse they had to pass the marketplace section, and that was where Y/n's patience went to die. After surviving the maze of showrooms and kids' section, she'd naively thought the hardest part was over. She was wrong. Very wrong.

It started innocently enough. She was examining a set of glass jars when she turned around and froze.

"Sebastian, what the hell is that?"

Sebastian was standing proudly next to their cart, now loaded with an alarming array of items that had nothing to do with their original mission. Among the chaos was a giant fake plant, a rainbow-colored dish drying rack, a cheese grater shaped like a hedgehog, a set of tiny spoons and a plush banana that looked vaguely horrified.

"Princess, this is all essential," he said, as if that explained anything.

"A banana plushie is essential?"

"Yes." He held it up and shook it for emphasis. "He's my emotional support banana. Look at him. His name is Kevin."

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose. "Seb, we don't need Kevin."

"I need Kevin," he argued, dropping the banana into the cart anyway. "Bruce and Clark also need another friend in case they get into a fight with each other. And the hedgehog grater? Genius. Two of my favorite things in one."

"You don't even grate cheese."

"Because I've never had a hedgehog-shaped grater before! Do you see how this could change my life?"

Y/n stared at him, trying to figure out how this man could be so simultaneously adorable and infuriating. "What about the plant? We don't need another plant."

Sebastian gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Princess, how dare you? Her name is Fernanda, and she brings joy. Also, she's fake, so you can't kill her like the others."

"I didn't kill them," Y/n protested, crossing her arms. "They died from natural causes."

"Uh-huh." He patted Fernanda protectively, like she might be listening.

"And the dish rack?" she asked, pointing at the rainbow monstrosity. "We already have one."

"But this one's colorful! It's like a pride flag for our dishes. Imagine how happy they'll be."

"Our dishes?"

"Yes," he said solemnly. "They've been through a lot."

Y/n sighed deeply. She was losing this battle fast. "Okay, what about the set of tiny spoons?"

Sebastian grinned and held up the box. "For tiny desserts. Duh."

"We don't even eat tiny desserts."

"Not yet. But we could." His eyes sparkled with unrestrained excitement. "Princess, picture it: late at night, me, you, Kevin the banana, sharing a tiny dessert with our tiny spoons. It's the dream."

"I think I'm getting a migraine."

Sebastian leaned in, planting a kiss on her forehead. "That's just love overwhelming you."

"No, that's you giving me an aneurysm."

"Same thing." He plucked a package of tealight candles off a nearby shelf and tossed them into the cart. "These are essential too."

Y/n pointed accusingly. "Don't you dare start with the candles."

"I'm not starting! I'm building ambiance." He added another package. "And now we have twice the ambiance."

Y/n groaned, grabbing the side of the cart as if grounding herself might prevent her from losing her mind. "Seb, our cart is full, and we still have to get the bookshelf. Please stop grabbing things."

"I promise I'm done," he said solemnly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Swear on Kevin."

Sebastian hesitated. "...I swear on half of Kevin."

"Sebastian!"

"I'm kidding! Swear on full Kevin," he said quickly, clutching the banana to his chest like a baby. "Let's get the bookshelf."

As they walked toward the next section, Sebastian paused, his eyes lighting up as he spotted a display of colorful mixing bowls. He reached for one.

"Seb, no."

"But—"

"No."

He sighed dramatically, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Fine. But if I starve because I don't have a hedgehog grater and a mixing bowl, that's on you, Princess."

"You're not starving."

"I could be."

"Sebastian, we came for a bookshelf, and now our cart looks like a unicorn threw up in it."

"Yeah," he said proudly. "Isn't it beautiful?"

She stared at him, trying to stay mad, but his goofy grin and unrelenting enthusiasm made it impossible. "You're impossible."

"And yet," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "you love me."

Y/n sighed, laughing despite herself. "Unfortunately for me, I do."

Sebastian grinned, holding Kevin the banana up between them. "See, Kevin knew we'd all come around eventually."

Y/n shook her head, wondering how she'd ended up here. But as frustrating as Sebastian was, she couldn't imagine IKEA—or life—without him. Even if it did mean sharing her apartment with a plush banana, a plush shark and a fake plant named Fernanda.

—

After managing to get to the end of the marketplace section without Sebastian grabbing anything else, they finally arrived at the warehouse section. The warehouse section of IKEA was supposed to be straightforward. You find the aisle, grab your flat-pack box, and move on with your life. But Y/n should've known better. With Sebastian, nothing was ever straightforward.

They arrived at Aisle 32, Bay 4, where the shelf Y/n picked—a plain white, functional bookshelf she'd selected after enduring his dramatic antics in the marketplace—was waiting.

Except it wasn't waiting at ground level.

"Oh, great," Y/n muttered, looking up at the towering rack. The box was perched on the topmost shelf, taunting her like a smug, flat-packed cloud. "Of course it's up there."

Sebastian tilted his head, studying the rack like it was Mount Everest. "That's not a problem. I've got this."

"No, Seb. No you don't."

"Princess, relax," he said, cracking his knuckles. "I've scaled rock walls. This is nothing."

"This isn't a rock wall! It's a storage rack full of furniture boxes! Just ask an employee for help."

Sebastian scoffed, looking personally offended. "Ask for help? Y/n, I am the help."

Before she could stop him, he grabbed the edge of the rack and started climbing.

"Sebastian Stan, get down right now!" she hissed, her voice a mix of panic and exasperation.

"I'm fine!" he called, already halfway up. "I've done my own stunts! This is child's play."

"This is how you die in IKEA!"

Ignoring her protests, Sebastian continued his ascent, grabbing onto a lower rack, then hoisting himself up to the next. His face was set in determination, like he was reenacting a scene from an action movie. Unfortunately, the rack didn't share his enthusiasm and creaked ominously under his weight.

"Seb, I swear, if you break your neck—"

"Relax, Princess. It's stable!" he said confidently, just as the shelf he was holding onto wobbled slightly.

Y/n slapped a hand to her forehead. "This is going to be my 911 call. 'Yes, officer, my boyfriend climbed an IKEA shelf and is now trapped under three boxes of particleboard furniture.'"

"Stop worrying!" he said, reaching the top. "I see it! I've got it!"

He grabbed the flat-pack box, struggling to slide it off the shelf. The problem was, the box was heavier than he expected, and Sebastian, in his infinite wisdom, hadn't thought this through. As he yanked at the box, it tipped precariously, throwing him off balance.

"Uh, Princess?" he called, a distinct edge of panic in his voice. "It's fine, but, uh—can you spot me?"

"Spot you?! You're fifteen feet in the air!" Y/n yelled, her heart practically leaping out of her chest. "I told you to wait for help!"

Sebastian tried to maneuver the box, but his grip slipped, and the entire rack swayed.

"Sebastian!" Y/n screamed as he teetered dramatically, clinging to the shelf like a scared cat. "Hold on!"

"I'm fine! I'm—whoa!" He lost his footing, and for a moment, she thought he was going to fall. By some miracle, he managed to grab the edge of the rack with one hand, dangling like a very poorly coordinated action hero.

"Get down!" Y/n shouted, torn between fury and terror. "I swear to God, Sebastian, if you die before you assemble this stupid bookshelf—"

"Never fear!" he interrupted, trying to sound calm despite the fact that his legs were flailing wildly. "I've got this under control."

"You are literally dangling, Seb!"

With one final burst of effort, he swung himself back onto the rack, grabbing the flat-pack box and awkwardly lowering it to a slightly safer position. Then, slowly and ungracefully, he climbed back down, landing on the floor with an exaggerated flourish.

He grinned, holding up the box triumphantly. "Ta-da!"

Y/n stared at him, her face a mixture of disbelief and rage. "You absolute idiot."

"But look, Princess!" He gestured at the box like it was a trophy. "Mission accomplished."

"Mission almost ended with me calling an ambulance!" She marched up to him, poking him hard in the chest. "Why couldn't you just ask for help? Why do you have to make everything a stunt?"

Sebastian pouted, clearly unrepentant. "I wanted to impress you."

"Impress me? Seb, I'm impressed when you remember to put the toilet seat down. You don't have to risk your life for a bookshelf!"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, still grinning like he hadn't just given her a heart attack. "Admit it, though. You were impressed by my skills."

"I'm about to be impressed by how fast you can carry this box to the cart," she snapped, pointing to the flat-pack. "Go."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a mock salute, hoisting the box and striding toward the cart. He turned back, winking at her. "But admit it. You love me for my adventurous spirit."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. "I love you despite your adventurous spirit, you lunatic."

Sebastian grinned, blowing her a kiss. "Same thing, Princess."

As he loaded the box onto the cart, Y/n silently vowed to never, ever bring him to IKEA again. At least not without signing him up for a babysitter first.

—

The checkout line was supposed to be the final hurdle—the finish line where Y/n could finally regain control of their chaotic shopping spree. The cart was already overflowing with unnecessary treasures, and she'd made Sebastian swear, on Kevin the emotional support banana, not to grab anything else.

But this was Sebastian Stan, and promises were apparently more like suggestions.

"Princess, stay with the cart," he said suddenly, a suspicious glint in his eye.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Uh... I just realized we don't have... batteries." He didn't even wait for her response before darting toward a nearby shelf stacked with random last-minute impulse buys.

"Sebastian, no! We don't need batteries!" she called after him, but he was already out of earshot, disappearing into the chaos of the IKEA checkout area like a rogue spy on a mission.

Y/n sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel the cashier's pitying stare as she pushed the overstuffed cart forward. Fernanda the fake plant was half-falling out, Kevin's plush banana face looked permanently distressed as it faced Bruce the shark and the rainbow dish rack was perched precariously on top like a crown.

The cashier scanned the first item—a set of tealight candles. "Having a good day?"

Y/n forced a tight smile. "Define 'good.'"

Before the cashier could respond, Sebastian reappeared, and Y/n's stomach dropped. His arms were full—full—of completely random items. A three-pack of giant chocolate bars. A fuzzy gray throw pillow shaped like a cloud. A box of LED fairy lights. And, inexplicably, a pack of child-sized aprons.

"Sebastian, what are you doing?" Y/n hissed, mortified as he dumped the pile onto the conveyor belt.

"Saving our future!" he declared dramatically, gesturing to the items as if they were a presentation board. "Look, the chocolate is essential for emergencies—what if we get snowed in? The fairy lights will add mood lighting to Fernanda's corner. And the aprons? Cooking together is romantic, Princess. Tiny aprons are adorable."

"We don't have kids!" she whisper-yelled, shoving the aprons to the side.

"Not yet," he said with a wink. "But we might want aprons someday."

Y/n groaned, grabbing the throw pillow. "And this? What's this supposed to be for?"

Sebastian gasped, clutching his chest like she'd just insulted his entire family. "Princess, this is Cloudy. He's Kevin's best friend."

"I'm not adopting another object, Sebastian!"

"You can't separate them," he said gravely, his voice full of mock heartbreak. "Look at Kevin. He's begging you."

Y/n glanced at Kevin the banana, whose stitched-on face did indeed look distressed, and let out a deep, soul-cleansing sigh. "Fine. But nothing else, do you hear me?"

Sebastian nodded, holding up three fingers like a Boy Scout. "Scout's honor."

The cashier, trying and failing to suppress laughter, scanned the new additions. "You two are quite the team."

"Oh, we're a team, all right," Y/n muttered, watching as Sebastian's eyes drifted toward a nearby bin of assorted impulse buys.

"No," she said firmly, catching him before he could move.

"But—"

"No. Don't even think about it."

"I was just—"

"Sebastian, I will leave you here. Alone. With no Kevin."

That seemed to work. Sebastian stayed put, though he did pout dramatically as the cashier finished scanning the last item. When the total came up on the screen, Y/n felt her jaw drop.

"Seb, this is twice what we budgeted!" she hissed.

"Twice the budget, twice the fun," he replied, pulling out his wallet and handing over his card like a man who had absolutely no regrets.

As they loaded up the cart, Y/n leaned over, glaring at him. "When we get home, you are putting all this together. Every single piece."

Sebastian grinned, tossing Kevin into the cart like a basketball. "Oh, Princess. You know I thrive under pressure."

Y/n didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or strangle him, so she settled for grabbing the receipt and muttering under her breath, "This isn't over."

With the receipt finally in hand, Y/n thought the nightmare was over. The cart was loaded with a precarious mountain of flat-pack furniture, random unnecessary knick-knacks, and, of course, Kevin the emotional support banana and Bruce the shark perched like kings on top. The exit was just within reach.

That's when Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks.

"Princess," he whispered, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. He pointed dramatically to the ice cream cone machine by the snack counter. "Look. Soft serve. We need it."

Y/n sighed, already regretting the day she agreed to this IKEA trip. "Seb, we don't need soft serve. We need to get this stuff into the car and go home."

"But it's only a dollar!" he protested, clutching her arm as if she might physically drag him away. "One single, beautiful, glorious dollar for a cone of happiness."

"You just ate 37 meatballs," she reminded him flatly.

"Princess, those were in a different category. This is dessert. It's like the epilogue of the meal. You can't skip the epilogue!"

Before she could respond, he was already steering their cart toward the snack counter like a man on a mission. Y/n trailed behind, muttering under her breath about impulsive boyfriends and their never-ending appetite.

Sebastian reached the counter, all wide-eyed excitement. "One ice cream cone, please," he announced to the cashier, then turned to Y/n with a satisfied grin. "See? Simple. Just one."

She crossed her arms. "You say that now, but—"

"Wait," he interrupted, spotting the shelf next to the register. His eyes zeroed in on a display of cinnamon buns, chocolate bars, and IKEA-branded cookies. "Whoa. What's that?"

"Sebastian, don't."

"I mean, we just have to get these cinnamon buns to bring home," he said, grabbing a six-pack and plopping it on the counter. "For breakfast tomorrow. And these chocolate bars? These are emergency rations."

"Emergency rations for what?" Y/n asked, exasperated.

"You never know, Princess. What if the apocalypse happens tonight, and we're sitting on our new bookshelf, wishing we had chocolate?"

"Apocalypse or not, you're going to eat all of it in the car."

"That's slanderous," he said, feigning offense. Then he added two packs of cookies to the growing pile. "Also, these are for Kevin, Bruce and Clark."

"They are plushies! They don't eat!"

"Not with that attitude," he muttered, handing his credit card to the cashier before Y/n could argue further.

The cashier, barely holding back laughter, processed the order and handed him the coin for the ice cream machine. "Just insert this into the machine, and it'll dispense the ice cream."

Sebastian held the coin up like it was the One Ring. "Wait a second. I get to activate the ice cream machine?"

The cashier blinked, unsure if he was joking. "Uh... yes?"

Sebastian turned to Y/n, his eyes wide. "Do you understand the power I hold right now?"

"It's literally a coin for a soft-serve machine, Seb," Y/n deadpanned.

"Not just a coin, Princess. This is the key to happiness," he said dramatically. Then, clutching it like it was precious cargo, he marched toward the machine. "Step back, everyone! Ice cream is about to happen."

Y/n sighed. "Seb, please just get the ice cream before someone calls security."

"I shall not rush the ritual!" he declared, raising the coin like it was Simba being presented to the Pride Lands.

He strode to the machine with the swagger of a man on a mission, clearing his throat dramatically. "And now, ladies and gentlemen," he announced to no one in particular, "a masterpiece in dairy engineering shall come to life before your very eyes!"

"Sebastian..." Y/n warned, already cringing as a family with two toddlers gave him side-eye.

"Hush, Princess," he said, waving her off as if he were royalty. "I must focus."

He inserted the token with theatrical precision, pausing for effect before stepping back as the machine whirred to life. The sound was nothing special, but Sebastian's face lit up like he was hearing a choir of angels.

"It's happening!" he cried, grabbing the cone and carefully placing it under the nozzle. "The soft-serve gods have blessed me!"

The ice cream began to swirl, and Sebastian guided it with the concentration of a neurosurgeon. "Look at that texture. That symmetry. It's... it's beautiful."

The swirl grew taller, and he crouched slightly, angling his head for a better look. "Should I stop it here? No, no. Go big or go home."

By the time the cone was fully loaded—teetering dangerously under the weight of his ambition—he stepped back, holding it high. "Behold! The perfect cone! A triumph of man and machine!"

Y/n crossed her arms, staring at him. "It's just ice cream, Seb."

"It's not just ice cream," he said, taking a triumphant lick. "It's a symbol of achievement. It's art. It's—"

Before he could finish, the precarious swirl tilted forward, wobbling. His eyes widened in panic. "Oh no—structural failure!"

Y/n stifled a laugh as he scrambled to right the cone, awkwardly licking the sides to prevent catastrophe.

"Crisis averted!" he announced proudly, his face now smudged with vanilla. "I saved it. I am a hero."

"You're a mess," Y/n said, shaking her head, but she couldn't hide her smile as she handed him a napkin.

"And yet," he said, grinning as he took another massive lick, "I've never been happier."

"This was supposed to be a quick stop," she said as they finally walked toward the exit.

"Quick stops don't bring joy," he replied, licking his ice cream. "This? This is pure joy."

"It's pure chaos," she muttered, shoving the cart forward. "I don't know why I let you out in public."

"You love it," he said around a mouthful of ice cream. Then he held up the cinnamon buns. "And tomorrow, when you wake up to warm, gooey breakfast happiness, you'll thank me."

"Warm? You don't even know where the microwave is half the time."

"I'll figure it out," he said confidently, taking another lick of ice cream. "I'm a man of many talents."

Y/n shot him a look but couldn't help the tiny smile tugging at her lips. As much as he drove her crazy, she knew Sebastian's chaotic charm was part of the package.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "But you are carrying all the snacks to the car."

Sebastian grinned. "Deal. Now, let's get home before the apocalypse starts. I have chocolate to protect."

—

By the time they got home, Y/n was already exhausted, and the real work hadn't even begun. She stood in their living room, glaring at the flat-pack box of the bookshelf she'd chosen—a plain, functional piece that had seemed like a good idea in the showroom. Now, it just felt like a cruel prank.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was full of energy, fueled by ice cream, the thrill of the snacks he'd stuffed into their kitchen, and the sheer confidence of a man who had no idea what he was doing.

"Okay, Princess," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's build this baby."

"Seb, maybe we should just wait until tomorrow," Y/n said, eyeing the box warily. "We've been through enough today."

"What? No way!" he replied, already ripping into the cardboard like a bear raiding a picnic. "This is the grand finale! The cherry on top! The...uh..." He frowned, pulling out a piece of wood and squinting at it. "What part is this?"

"That's a shelf," Y/n said flatly.

"Right. Of course. I knew that."

Y/n sighed and grabbed the instruction manual. She flipped it open, only to find a series of cryptic diagrams that looked more like hieroglyphics than instructions. "Oh, great. No words, just pictures."

"Pictures are better!" Sebastian said, already digging through the screws and bolts. "I'm a visual learner."

"You're a chaos learner," Y/n muttered, sitting on the floor next to him. "Okay, step one: separate all the pieces and make sure we have everything."

Sebastian immediately ignored her and started stacking wooden panels into a precarious tower. "Check it out! It's like Jenga, but Swedish."

"Sebastian, stop—"

The tower toppled over with a loud crash, scattering panels everywhere.

"Oops," he said, giving her an innocent grin. "No biggie. Let's keep going!"

Y/n groaned and picked up the instruction manual again. "Fine. Step two: attach the side panels to the base."

"Got it!" Sebastian said enthusiastically, grabbing the nearest panel and slapping it onto the base. He fumbled with a handful of screws, then grabbed the Allen wrench. "This thing is so tiny. It's like IKEA doesn't trust us with real tools."

"They shouldn't," Y/n muttered, watching as he jammed the wrench into a screw and started turning it the wrong way. "Seb, you're stripping the screw."

"No, I'm not! It's just...stubborn."

"Give me that," she said, taking the wrench from him. "You're going to ruin it before we even get started."

"Fine," he said, crossing his arms like a pouting child. "You do the boring stuff, and I'll do the creative parts."

"There are no creative parts! It's a bookshelf, not a craft project."

Sebastian ignored her and picked up two random wooden dowels. "Look! Drumsticks!" He started drumming on the panels, humming the intro to We Will Rock You.

"Sebastian!" Y/n snapped, snatching the dowels out of his hands. "Focus!"

"Okay, okay," he said, grabbing the manual. He studied it for a moment, then frowned. "Wait. Where's this little blob guy? He's pointing at something."

"That's not a blob guy; that's a hand," Y/n said, exasperated. "And it's showing you where to put the screw."

"Right. Got it. Blob-hand wants a screw here," he said, completely misinterpreting the diagram and attaching a panel backward.

"Sebastian!" Y/n shouted, waving her arms. "That's upside down!"

"No, it's modern. Like an abstract art bookshelf."

"It's wrong!"

"Or maybe it's right in a way no one else has ever thought of," he countered, winking at her.

Y/n grabbed the panel and yanked it off. "I swear, if you don't start taking this seriously—"

"Relax, Princess. This is fun!" he said, picking up a small bag of screws. He paused, looking concerned. "Wait...what are these tiny ones for? Did we get extra screws? Are these bonus screws? Is IKEA giving us a scavenger hunt?"

"They're not bonus screws!" Y/n shouted. "They're essential. And stop opening random bags!"

But it was too late. Sebastian had already torn into another bag, spilling washers and dowels across the floor. One dowel rolled under the couch, and Sebastian dropped to his stomach, crawling after it.

"Got it!" he announced triumphantly, holding up the dowel like a trophy.

"You're impossible," Y/n muttered, shaking her head.

"Impossible, or unstoppable?" he asked, grinning as he plopped back down beside her.

"Both."

After what felt like hours, the bookshelf finally started to resemble something functional. Y/n was sweaty, frustrated, and convinced she'd aged five years. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked as proud as if he'd built the Eiffel Tower from scratch.

"Ta-da!" he said, stepping back and admiring their work. "Look at that. We crushed it."

Y/n squinted at the bookshelf. It was leaning slightly to the left, and one shelf was installed upside down, but she was too tired to care. "It's...fine."

"Fine?" Sebastian gasped, offended. "It's a masterpiece."

"It's crooked."

"It has character."

Y/n gave him a tired smile, too exhausted to argue. "Okay, fine. It has character."

Sebastian grinned and wrapped an arm around her. "See? Teamwork makes the dream work."

"Teamwork nearly made me murder you."

"Tomato, tomahto," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Admit it, Princess. You couldn't do this without me."

Y/n looked at the leaning bookshelf, the mess of screws on the floor, Kevin the banana and Bruce the shark perched on a random shelf. She sighed. "You're right. No one else could've made this much of a disaster."

Sebastian laughed, pulling her closer. "And that's why you love me."

She rolled her eyes but leaned into him anyway. "Unfortunately for me, yeah. I do."

As they stood in the middle of the chaotic mess—Y/n rubbed her temples and sighed deeply. The leaning bookshelf stared back at her like it was mocking her existence.

Sebastian watched her, his grin fading into something softer. He knew he'd been a tornado of chaos today, and she'd been the one who kept them grounded, even if she had threatened to murder him a few times. She deserved something better than this disaster of a day.

"Alright, Princess," he said suddenly. "You've officially done your time in IKEA hell. Sit down."

"What? Seb, there's still a mess—"

"Sit down." His tone was uncharacteristically firm, though his eyes twinkled with something mischievous. He gently guided her to the couch and plopped her down. "Now, stay."

She raised an eyebrow at him but was too tired to argue. "What are you up to?"

"You'll see." He winked and bounded into the kitchen, rummaging around loudly.

Y/n leaned back, watching him from the couch. A small part of her was bracing for another ridiculous stunt, but then she smelled something warm and sweet. Her stomach rumbled as Sebastian emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray. On it were two plates of slightly warmed IKEA cinnamon buns, a bar of IKEA milk chocolate broken into chunks, and two IKEA-branded sparkling waters.

He set the tray down on the coffee table like he was presenting a feast fit for royalty. "Your Highness," he said dramatically, bowing low. "Dinner is served."

She blinked, staring at the tray, then back at him. "This...is dinner?"

"Only the finest," he said, sitting beside her and grabbing a cinnamon bun. "After all, we're sophisticated people who dine exclusively on imported Swedish delicacies."

She couldn't help it—a laugh bubbled up, light and unexpected. She tried to suppress it, but then he gave her that goofy grin, and the absurdity of the entire day hit her all at once. Before she knew it, she was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

"Sebastian!" she gasped between giggles. "This is not how normal people recover from a stressful day."

"Normal is boring," he said, smiling softly at her. "And I kind of love that I made you laugh after everything I put you through. You deserve it."

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Ridiculous but charming," he said, nudging her shoulder. "And you love me for it."

"I do," she admitted, picking up a cinnamon bun. "Even though you nearly killed yourself twice, choking on meatballs and climbing an IKEA shelf as well as turned our living room into a disaster zone."

"That's just me keeping things interesting, Princess," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "But I promise I'll clean up the mess tomorrow. Tonight is about you."

Y/n looked at him, her heart softening. He might've been an absolute whirlwind, but he always had a way of making her feel like the center of his universe, even in their most chaotic moments.

"Okay," she said, taking a bite of the cinnamon bun. "I'll accept this dinner of 'imported delicacies.' But only if you promise to never climb anything in IKEA again."

He raised his hand solemnly. "Scout's honor."

They sat there, munching on cinnamon buns and chocolate, laughing about the events of the day. The leaning bookshelf stood in the corner, still a testament to their mismatched teamwork, but Y/n didn't care anymore.

It wasn't perfect, but neither were they—and that was okay. Because at the end of the day, Sebastian always found a way to make her laugh. And that was enough.

[whateverthedragonswant]

Rewatching 8x05 for writing reasons, which is just a brilliant episode, despite any reasons some might have to hate it, valid or invalid. Miguel Sapochnik is directing and you see his talent and epicness in every shot (that man deserves a freaking Emmy already, I said what I said) but also there are so many things being shown here that if you muted the episode after Daenerys makes her decision, during the battle scene, you would be able to tell exactly what each character is thinking and what's really going on in the story besides the surface action.

Which brings me to that one scene that a lot of people said the woman being attacked as a stand-in for Sansa in the episode for Jon. They are correct and here's how.

Jon is walking through the melee, only coming to life to defend himself when Lannister soldiers are trying to attack him. The Northerners aren't listening to him, they're attacking innocent civilians, Grey Worm is on a killing spree, Davos is trying to help people get away from the bloodshed, Dany is burning the city, Tyrion is off somewhere horrified, Cersei is watching in terror from the Red Keep... But during this scene, the sound is muted to a point where the sounds of battle happening all around Jon sound very far away. We're now seeing what Jon sees, we're in his shock fugue with him. We see on his left civilians, namely women, being brutalized by soldiers -> he keeps walking. We on his right a woman being knocked down to the ground while a child is watching in horror, blood spatter and bodies all around her (and obviously traumatized & also in danger herself since no one is left to protect her) -> he keeps walking. He then sees a Lanniser soldier telling people to run, something his soldiers should be doing (and something he himself should be doing like Davos) but he's not. While the sounds are still muted, Jon notices another Lannister soldier about to rush him and he goes into autopilot & fights the soldier off. He then looks around in horror.

This is not what he signed up for and he almost looks lost, like he doesn't know what to do. Then the sound comes back fully and he hears a scream. In all of the melee, chaos, and death around him, he hears this one woman above the rest and turns to see her being dragged into an alley to presumably be assaulted by one of his own men.

Sure enough, she's about to be and she is trying to crawl away when the man catches her again. Jon ends up saving her, threatening to run his sword through the man. When the latter tries to fight him off to go back to assault this woman, Jon kills him and tells the woman to hide.

So how is this woman standing in for Sansa besides the obvious?

Two ways.

1) Ramsay was the former Warden of the North, the former bastard of Roose Bolton who was a Northerner who "served" Robb Stark, the first King in the North, before betraying him to the Lannisters. The soldier Jon faces off with is a Northerner and is supposed to be under Jon's command as Warden of the North and the former second King in the North.

2) Sansa is who stirs Jon into action when he feels lost.

Every.

Time.

And the parallels between the gif above with Dany and the dagger to the Northern soldier that had Jon's sword run through him, and Jon's staring almost sadly at the man, realizing he had to kill one of his own are far from being coincidental.

Not only was this a precursor to what would occur in 8x06 (and why Jon would make the decision he did) but it also is symbolic of the dynamic between Jon and Sansa as a whole. She's the one who stirs him into action, no matter how terrified or traumatized or angry he might be in that moment (like the shock fugue). No matter how lost he might feel. She gives him direction and dare I say a purpose when he has none (after his death; after the WW are defeated & Dany has gone into tyrant mode).

No wonder we weren't allowed to see Sansa's (or Arya's) reaction to the news of his being a Targaryen.

No wonder Jon told Melisandre not to bring him back if he lost the Battle of the Bastards (after Sansa told him if he lost, she wouldn't be going back to Ramsay alive).

No wonder Jon was not happy with Sansa on the dock in 8x06.

She's always stirred him into action when he doesn't want to be or know how to do it himself (after his death).

He passed a woman he could have saved.

He passed a child he could have helped.

He saw someone on the other side helping and doing the right thing.

The only time he steps in to help someone else is the woman about to be assaulted.

(x) "You are the shield that guards the realms of men. You've always tried to do the right thing. No matter the cost. You've tried to protect people. Who's the greatest threat to the people now?" (no reaction)

"Do you think I'm the last man she'll execute? Who is more dangerous than the rightful heir to the Iron Throne?" (no reaction)

"And your sisters? Do you see them bending the knee?" (a little bit of a reaction)

"Why do you think Sansa told me the truth about you? Because she doesn't want Dany to be queen." (more of a reaction)

"No, but you do. And you have to choose now." (he hesitatingly goes to confront Dany and then 🗡️)

It's not just about her being his "sister" or because she's Lady Stark or family or because they were the last two Starks once upon a time. She literally stirs him into action and gives him purpose. Her pushing to go back to Winterfell led to him caring about the WW invasion again. Her being the one he chooses to protect ended a tyrant and changed history, leading for her to become the first Queen in the North and regain Northern Independence, where she can be forever safe.

It was always Sansa for him, starting in 6x04.

[gazelles-gazelles]

Adora and perfection

Perfection has been demanded of women for ages, not just as an adjunct, but as a price we pay for existing. We’re supposed to fill our predetermined roles to the fullest, with no hesitation and no error. It can take many forms across history (e.g. the angle in the house) but they all echo the same idea: a woman’s value must be tied to unattainable ideals. A perpetual feeling of worthlessness. It’s a tool of oppression, a mechanism of power.

before we connect all that with Adora, let’s settle on a specific definition of what perfection is, according to aristotle:

1. which is complete — which contains all the requisite parts.

2. which is so good that nothing of the kind could be better.

3. which has attained its purpose.

Adora embodies every single one of these. (1) She’s been conditioned through childhood to always be complete, competent, flawless, errorless, perfect. (2) And not just that, not just to be good, not to be better, but to be the best, no one should come before her, the first place is the only place where she can reside, losing is simply unimaginable. (3) And finally, she had always been used to attain a purpose, or in the show’s language, a destiny. Whether as a horde soldier or as she-ra, whether by shadow weaver or by light hope.

Adora is perfection incarnate! Or rather, supposed to be, in every facet.

Beauty: to me, the original first-ones-made she-ra form can be used as a metaphor for the impossibly unrealistic beauty standards that had always shackled women. She’s warrior, yes, but she must also be beautiful. (1) She’s in gold, the most precious of metals, and too heavy for armour to ever be made purely out of it, she wears white, the color of pure and clean, even when she’s in battlefield, even when there’s dirt and blood to stain, her hair is free and unbound and desirable, she glows, inhumanly so, like a star, not a person. (2) And even with all that, the worst thing is that she’s so clearly not Adora, not a reflection of Adora’s authentic self, but an exaggerated contortists image of what she must look like, she’s not Adora.

Skill: women have to be great to be good, in every room, and Adora was always expected to be great. Since she’s a soldier, it translates into military settings: she’s supposed to be the strongest in the room, the smartest in the room, the simple undoubtable best. Every attack must be calculated to the point, devoid of error or mistakes, every plan must work, every hit must land, every simulation must be won, every enemy defeated, every power mastered, every lesson, every training, everything she does, must be perfect.

Behaviour: double binds. A woman must be pretty but not too pretty, nice but not too nice (sound familiar?). Adora spent the entire show being squashed by dualities that contradict each other, she must be powerful to defeat her enemies but not powerful enough to usurp her superiors, smart to be successful but not smart enough to realise her abuse, kind to save the world but not kind enough to foster her own relationship, she must be strong but obedient, a leader but also a follower, a weapon and a shield.

Of course this is all horrifying. No one can live like this, Adora tried, but the mental and physical damage she suffered from would’ve destroyed her if it weren’t for her support system.

Adora’s story is cautionary tale about the horrors of perfection. No human is perfect, so the demand of perfection is literally dehumanisation. Adora is dehumanised, objectified, used as a tool(s) to achieve other people’s goals. And for the longest time, she didn’t even realise it, she has been abused and conditioned into truly believing that perfection is the price she must pay to exist, until she doesn’t! Until the unconditional love of catra and glimmer and bow allows her simply just exist.

[lakesbian]

it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

[ruvviks]

– Observation.

Characters >> Caleb Richter (oc) Total >> 792 words Warnings >> Body horror Context >> Excerpt of a chapter of The Alpha Protocol, an original story that takes place in my original universe known as the Fractured Anthology! CALAMITY’s Team Alpha is deployed in special facility Harbinger in Loveless, Montana, after a few Subjects have breached containment in the lower levels. In this excerpt, team leader Caleb Richter is on the premises to assess the situation

‘Over this way, sir.’

Caleb followed Nelly out of the main hallway through a heavy biometrically locked sliding door to an old maintenance elevator, bringing them one floor below ground to the observation deck of Harbinger. The facility’s hallways were flooded with personnel, with the lower levels now out of commission; though only a handful of agents actually acknowledged Caleb’s presence with a firm nod or a quickly lowered head.

‘We managed to recapture one after the second breach,’ Nelly said, tapping in a four digit code of which Caleb only caught the last two numbers, allowing them access to observation room B6. ‘Johannes, he’s called. Don’t think you’ll like him much– quite the interesting fellow.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Caleb asked, giving a quick nod in the direction of the two agents stationed at the security desk, his eyes slowly trailing the room to the interior of the holding cell– and his heart immediately nearly ripped a hole in his chest when he noticed the speculum only inches away from the glass he himself was stood right in front of.

‘Think of your blood pressure, Richter,’ Christian casually remarked in his earpiece.

‘Jesus– I see.’

Caleb exhaled sharply, straightening his shoulders as he quickly regained his balance from stepping backwards a little too fast. ‘That’s ugly. Good grief.’

‘Don’t be mean.’ Nelly gestured for the two agents keeping watch to leave the room, leaving only the two of them behind, and she watched Caleb nervously glance back at the holding cell. ‘Don’t worry, sir– it’s a mirror on the other end. He likes looking at himself.’

Caleb could not really see why.

He hesitantly stepped a little closer, eyes rapidly scanning the speculum from head to toe. He’d heard of them, of course, but had never seen one in the flesh before– a humanoid, standing about as tall as himself, ridden of any sort of body hair and seemingly devoid of any genitals too, with elongated limbs that on any human would be severely broken but on this creature seemed to simply just be bent that way.

It was far from textureless, though, its skin almost akin to jute that had been cut open and torn apart by a serrated knife. Caleb could easily count seven, eight, nine large slits running vertically up the speculum’s skeletal body, the openings just about wide enough to show an unnervingly deep darkness inside.

Parts of its skin appeared horribly twisted around itself, wrinkled up into an almost maelstrom-esque design– puncture wounds, he’d assume, though with CALAMITY’s safety precautions he wouldn’t entirely know how the Subject could have injured itself so badly and with how settled and aged into the speculum’s body they seemed to be, it was unlikely to have happened in any of the recent breaches either.

It stood so still. Caleb had to get up close to notice it was breathing– bony shoulders rising and falling just enough to know he was looking at something real, and not simply a projection or cardboard cut-out of the thing. It was uncomfortable, uncanny to a degree, and he knew that no matter how many times he’d come face to face with Subjects he was never going to get used to it.

And really, as unnerving as the body of the creature looked, nothing about it came even close to the horrifying appearance of its face.

Longer than a human’s head, almost tilted inward towards the neck and lacking a proper chin; its mouth was sunken into where the jaw was supposed to be, a thin and narrow strip curling just above the first crease of its neck with the corners reaching nearly all the way up to the ears. Both the ears as well as the nose were nothing more than holes, smoothing out the surface as if the speculum’s head was caving in, actively curling in on itself.

The only part that stuck out was whatever the bulge on its forehead was supposed to be– its texture more like that of a rotten, moldy fruit, thin veins crawling over the protruding egg-shaped sore as if they were the only thing holding it in place. It was sagging; any further and it would start drooping over the speculum’s face.

Caleb’s gaze finished on Johannes’ eyes; two milky, cloudy white near-perfectly round irisless orbs bulging out of flattened sockets, with beady little black pupils right in their centers. An almost comical finish to the grotesque display; a Subject known for its mimicry of humans attempting so very hard to present as one, eyes akin to what Caleb could only classify as big, overly realistic googly eyes.

But as comical as it sounded in theory, it did not remotely bring a smile to his face.

[tinjap]

3rd Life Renchanting robot au

This was made for Lamplight server's soulmate au creation event thingy, my server soulmate ended up being the wonderful @the-wegg You can find their post of the same au here with some nice drawings

Summary and short fic under the read more!!

Usually 3rd Life AUs have decided to take more of a medieval route so we decided to go the opposite way! The world in this one is more modern and futuristic with a lot of cool technology and stuff. While this is supposed to have more of an real life feeling to it there is still the death game aspect to it and everyone gets 3 lives and all that stuff

Here’s the story simplified!

Martyn and Ren have an enchanting shop together. They both have skills in enhancing weapons and armour using technology and magic called enchanting which makes everything work (basically electricity). Their lives have been going nicely without bigger problems except now Grian and Scar have decided that they want to get their shop closed. At first it was annoying bothering but they have started to go too far with it and hid a small explosive in their front door which took the lives of Ren (and Skizz and Jimmy, I guess they could be like customers or friends as they were present). Now Ren has decided that they have taken enough of their bullying and wants to go red so they could go take revenge. He makes Martyn decapitate him with one of their axes which makes Martyn really nervous and he doesn’t want to do it but Ren manages to convince him. Everything goes horribly wrong and Martyn cannot understand why as Ren doesn’t seem to come back alive as he should and Martyn starts to panic badly. He doesn’t know what to do but doesn’t want to lose his closest friend so he uses his skills to turn Ren into a robot and then brings him to life using enchanting magic. Renbot ends up being a bit blood thirsty and very dramatic about everything (as he is now a red life but also missing his humanity) and he declares a “war” against the desert guys (Please notice that they aren’t leaders of any country in this, they are just guys having a business together) Martyn is badly shocked about killing his bestie and then bringing him back, he isn’t really sure is Renbot actually Ren enough. He feels so very horribly guilty all the time so he just follows Renbot around as his right-hand man in their scuffle against the desert guys. In the end they are somewhere having a fight against them and Martyn sees Renbot getting shot absolutely horrified of having to witness Ren die again but this time he feels a smidge of hope as he knows that he has the skills to bring him back alive and then Martyn gets immediately shot too and they both die, the end <3

And here's a little story I wrote based on it, I also started another one that I hopefully won't abandon and actually finish it some day! (Not guaranteed)

[some-pers0n]

Memoir of an Albatross

Chapter 1 - The Legacy of a Monster

[1] [2] [3] [4]

(Art by Loquatic)

Chapter Description: Turtle and the Jade Winglet have decided to spend a night at the long forgotten Island Palace. Turtle is petrified. This is where Albatross, the mass murdering animus, had killed dozens. But, late into the night, he spots something strange.

The Island Palace was quite possibly the last place Turtle wanted to visit. Why would he? It remains as a scar on Pyrrhia, a reminder of the dangerous potential of animus magic. A stain on the Sea Kingdom's history of what happens when animus magic goes unchecked.

Albatross was not a dragon Fathom wanted to be. A mad dragon. A terrifying murderer. An animus who could not control his own magic. Simply thinking about him made his stomach churn. Knowing that it was a possibility he could end up like Albatross horrified him. He would be better than that monster.

So, hearing that the Jade Winglet wanted to spend a night at the Island Palace was definitely something he was not interested in doing. 

Unfortunately, Qibli and Kinkajou were firm in their decision to do just that.

"Oh come on," Qibli said, "it's only one night!"

"We shouldn't...be here," Turtle mumbled. "Isn't this disrespectful? I mean, we are just going to run around in a place where so...so many dragons lost their lives."

"And? It's not like they're alive to see it. They've been dead for a long, long, LONG time," Kinkajou called out. "Who cares? It's going to be fun! Trust us."

"It's supposed to be scary anyway. It's Faust's Hallow. Wouldn't it be a little fun to spend it at some creepy old palace? We rarely get together nowadays, and besides, didn't Queen Coral give us permission for this? Turtle, this is our one chance!"

Turtle reluctantly looked at her, sighing. "If you say so..."

He was never fond of Faust's Hallow. It was a biannual "celebration" of one of the forgotten brother of Imperial, Oracle, and Perception. As the NightWing legend goes, while the other dragons ascended into the night sky to become the moons, Faust remained. He was tied to the world with his earthly connections. Thus, becoming the first-ever spirit. It was the basis for SandWing spirituality, so to say that Qibli was interested in it was most definitely an understatement.

Turtle on the other talon? Well, all he could think about was death and horror. His older brothers took joy in dressing up as ghosts and scaring the living daylights out of the younger ones. Not to also mention the constant imagery of skeletons and mourning, with Coral always having a memorial for her lost daughters.

Then, of course, Albatross himself. The reason they were coming here. A legend was that Albatross's spirit had never passed on. That his soul remained at the Island Palace, restless and still just as mad as the day he died. There had been stories of overly curious and confident dragonets running home after an encounter with Albatross at the Island Palace. But, those were just silly rumours. Little myths. That's what it is, certainly. 

Albatross wasn't there. How could he be? Well, the story of Faust was based on him wandering the continent for eternity. Perhaps, maybe- no. It's a made-up story. Turtle wasn't going to fall for some sort of story his brothers would tell to scare him. He already had enough sleepless nights, filled with anxiety and worry over the concept of Albatross still being around.

He's not. He's dead. This was just going to be a nice, if a bit restless, night out in the ruins of the abandoned Island Palace. He will not be scared.

They touched down on the beach around it. If Turtle remembered correctly, this was the Sunrise Beach. It was empty, completely devoid of any sort of life. The palace in front of them was crumbling and tattered. The lavish white walls were discoloured and washed out from weathering an impossible amount of storms. It was covered in moss and sea flora, with barnacles growing on the base of the palace. The light of the setting sun basked the palace in an ominous glow of oranges and purples.

A deep, horrible feeling persisted within Turtle. It made him aware of the light sensation in his claws. The tiny burning from within. Only a little ways away, tragedy had taken place. Two thousand years ago, Albatross, his great-grandfather, slaughtered twenty dragons. He carries the same power he does. Even right now, he could kill all of his friends. One stray thought and who knows what would happen.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Kinkajou bounced ahead. "We've got a whole palace to explore! I call looking on the upper floors with Moon!"

"Wh- me? Uh...okay then?" She stepped forward, following after her. "See you, I guess?" She waved to Qibli and Turtle before disappearing off into the courtyard.

"So, that just leaves me and you." Qibli rested his wing on Turtle, pulling him closer.

"Hurray..."

"Where you wanna go? If they're going up, let's check out the ground floor. Gardens. See some cool old statues that've been crumbling from age."

"What fun..."

Qibli frowned. "Hey, look. I know you're a bit freaked out. You didn't really want to come here. I'm sorry for dragging you along. But, I promise it'll be fun! There's nothing here to hurt any of us. Even if Albatross is still floating around somewhere, I'll be there protecting all of you." He raised his tail, showing off his obsidian-black barb.

Turtle awkwardly chuckled. "I don't think you can really stab a spirit."

"Are you saying I've never fought a spirit before?" the SandWing grinned confidently. "I'll have you know that, as Queen Thorn's personal guard and adoptive son, I had to fend off armies of spirits. Vengeful ghosts of dragons. Such is the way of being queen, I suppose. Anyways, I just need to fight them. Give them the ol' one-two. Beat 'em off with a stick." He swung his arm, mimicking hitting something.

He laughed, feeling his anxieties melt away. Qibli looked back at him, a soft, genuine smile on his face. "Feel a bit better?" He patted him on the back. "Right, let's go exploring."

The experience was dampened by Turtle's constant anxiety, but even then he couldn't doubt the majesty of the palace. Despite its decaying state, it was beautiful. Quiet, with only the sounds of waves crashing in the distance and the gentle trill of the breeze blowing through. Roaming the vast, empty halls was an experience to say the least. 

It made him picture the nights that happened in this palace. Legends say that it was originally used for diplomats to rest, but also for parties and special occasions. Turtle, having the soul of a writer, felt his mind wander as he imagined the sorts of stories that would've spawned from such a place. The balls and weddings. The ceremonies and speeches.

...then, of course, there's the massacre, but Turtle would still rather not think about that.

After a long while of exploring through forgotten gardens, they reached the main gathering room. It was central to the rest of the palace, with several collapsed balconies around it. Dried-up ponds and steams littered the floor. In the middle of it all was a large, grand statue of a SeaWing. Despite the ruin around it all, the statue remained somewhat intact. Turtle could even make out the royal blue of which it used to be.

Off to the side was a large archway leading out onto the other beach. The setting sun was just about on the cusp of the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant oranges and yellows. The sapphire blue ocean pulled in and out rhythmically. It was as though it was the sea's own heartbeat.

"Woah..." he whispered, awestruck.

"Sure don't see places like this too often." Qibli walked ahead, eyes glazing over every detail.

"Hey!" a voice called from ahead. Turtle looked up, seeing Moon and Kinkajou on a balcony.

"What did you find?" Kinkajou asked.

"Not much. Bunch of gardens. Cool statues in them though," Qibli said. "How about you?"

"Bunch of old bedrooms," Moon replied. "Kinkajou thought she could find some treasure still. Checked all over. Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like it," Qibli said, "palace has been picked clean for centuries. Any chance for any sort of gems are probably all lost."

"Yeah..." Turtle quietly said. "Is anybody else feeling a little tired? Like they don't want to explore a big ruined palace that a bunch of dragons died in anymore and just sleep?"

The SandWing laughed. "I don't know about that."

"I'm feeling a little tired myself," said Moon. "It's been a long day of flying. I can probably lay down with Turtle if you don't mind."

"Oh come onnnn guys!" Kinkajou wined. "This is supposed to be a cool adventure for us! Sleep? Bleh! Gross! I want to stay up all night and look for all of these ghosts. It'll be fun!"

"I know, but...I just want to rest. Besides, this was all mostly for you two anyways." Moon opened her wings, flying down to the ground floor. "Sorry for being disappointingly boring..."

"No, no! It's all good." Qibli waved them off. "It's fine, really. Kinkajou and I can stay up and face those spirits ourselves. Buuutttt if you hear us screaming and calling out for help as we're being chased by a very scary old murderer dragon, you wouldn't mind helping us out, right?"

Moon and Turtle chuckled. "No, not at all." She turned her attention to Turtle. "I guess we can settle down here. I doubt we'll find a blanket of some kind."

"Ah, so we have to lie on the cold, hard floor."

"Yes, probably."

"Hey, if it'll make it up to you, I could try and find something. There's gotta be a stash of blankets that are still around," Qibli said, lifting himself into the air.

"Even after two thousand years?" Turtle asked.

"Worth a shot!" He shrugged, flying up to Kinkajou. "See ya around." He dipped his head before wandering back into the palace with the RainWing, leaving them both to themselves.

"Well, see you in the morning." Moon walked in a circle, patting the ground before lying down.

"Hey, quick question," Turtle said, "do you feel scared?"

Moon tapped her claws. "A little."

"You aren't just saying that to make me feel better, right?"

"Of course! It's just that, you know, being alone in a big palace. Makes me think about Darkstalker and that whole...thing." She sighed. "I know you're freaked out too."

"It's nothing, really. I'm just a little anxious over nothing. Spirits don't last forever, right? They move on. Pass onto some new stage of life we can't even comprehend. I doubt that he would still be here."

"He isn't, and, well, if he is, then we'll do everything to protect you."

Turtle glanced at his talons. There was a gentle tingling within them, a feeling he had only noticed when his magic was briefly taken away. "You shouldn't need to protect me."

"Hm?"

"I have magic, don't I? I should be able to protect myself. I should be the one protecting you in case something goes wrong."

"Nothing's going to happen though."

"I know, but, I still feel like I should be using it in case things happen. Stop being so scared of it. But..."

"But you don't want to end up like Albatross?" Moon asked.

He smacked his lips. "Yeah, pretty much."

She exhaled. "I'm sorry. But, it'll be a nice night, I'm sure. We can just sit and sleep if that makes you happy. The night will pass and we can listen to Kinkajou and Qibli and their adventures in the morning."

"That sounds nice." Turtle laid down next to her, yawning before resting his head against the marble floor. It'll be fine. He just has to sleep. When morning breaks, it'll all be over. When morning comes, Albatross will be gone.

He didn't know what time it was when he woke up. All he knew was that it was dark. Pitch black. Turtle blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the night around him.

He didn't wake up from some nightmare or anything. He didn't dream much these days. Instead, he felt a presence around him. A shift in the air. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was uncomfortable enough to drag him out of his sleep.

Around him were the rest of the group. Kinkajou and Moon were huddled together while Qibli held his wing over Turtle. Looks like the hunt for a ghost didn't turn out so well if they were all asleep here.

He wiggled out from under there, slowly rising to his feet. He looked around, trying to see if it was just his paranoid imagination or if there was really something amiss.

Then, off in the distance, he noticed something. A dim light. A faint glow out by the ocean up ahead.

Immediately, Turtle's stomach dropped. His mind instantly went to the worst thing possible. It was him. He was here and he was going to kill them all. Why would there be glowing right there if not for being the aura of some spirit?

No, no... It's fine. Deep breaths. It's all okay. It's probably a moonlight jellyfish. They glow in the dark. Maybe it washed up on the shore. He could help it out a little. If he did that, then maybe he'd realize there was nothing to be scared of. That there is no ghost. No dangerous, vengeful spirit of a long-dead murderer.

He steadied himself as he walked forward. He repeated to himself over and over that he's got nothing to worry about. It's all okay. He walked up to the edge of the archway, right before his talons would touch the sand.

It was a glowing dragon with a massive spear plunged right through its neck.

His weight slipped beneath his talons and he fell forward. He tried to quickly turn around and fly, but, clumsy as he was, he tumbled and was now barreling towards it. He rolled along the sand like the most terrified armadillo to walk this continent before finally stopping. He froze completely. Paralyzed. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to comprehend what to do.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting for an attack that never came, he sheepishly looked up.

Gazing back at him were two eyes, darker than the night around them. Their scales were a sickening pale grey. The most eye-catching thing of all was the silver spear that was lodged in his throat. Its hilt was stinking out one end, with the blade poking out the other. Faded stains of blood were dotted around his body, the most being around where the spear had hit him. Outlining the body was a gentle blue light that flicked like a lit candle.

The two stayed like that, staring. Turtle did not dare to blink, fearing that one small movement would instantly set him off. This was him. This was Albatross.

"Fathom?" the spirit asked. His voice was calm, if rather confused and surprised. "No, you can't be him. Fathom must have died ages ago. You're someone new. Someone in his likeness."

"...please don't kill me..." Turtle squeaked. He wanted to say something with more meaning. Cast a spell or anything. Yet, he was trapped in his fear. He couldn't think.

Albatross's expression dimmed. "Right. You must be terrified of me. I was so distracted by you looking like my grandson that I forgot about that horrible, horrible night. That night which made me what I am now." He tapped the spear. "Though, I do think you're the one to last the longest when seeing me. Most run. Maybe they'll throw something at me or try attacking me. Never works. Can't exactly kill a ghost, now can you?" He quietly laughed.

Turtle tried speaking again, but all that came out were mere whimpers.

"Goodness, you're petrified of me. I mean, anybody would. I haven't left the palace since the day I died, but I know enough to understand. I've been there when visitors come around. They steal the things out of my own house, cursing me and what I've done. It's upsetting to know what I am remembered as, but I don't blame you for being scared. I don't blame anybody. I should be condemned for what happened."

He finally shut his mouth. The more Turtle looked at Albatross, slowly, the less fearful he was. Granted, he was still very much horrified, but there was an air to the way the spirit spoke that resonated with him. That he was being genuine.

This wasn't what he expected. He pictured Albatross, the mad animus, as a being of chaos that the world has never seen. Some dark, twisted dragon who could barely control himself. He was imagining him to be vicious, bloodthirsty, and wanting nothing more than to kill.

Instead, he seemed mournful. He spoke warmly. There was reason and understanding in his body language. Even if it was idiotic, Turtle let his guard down somewhat.

"How...what..." he stammered.

"How am I here? I couldn't tell you myself. I've never read that much on spirituality and ghosts. But, I'm the only one left here. The rest have all gone away. Yet, I remain. I'm bound to this palace. I can't leave. If there was a way, I would've found it years ago. Then maybe I wouldn't be here, scaring you."

"You sound...sad," Turtle blurted out.

Albatross snorted. "Pff, do I really? I didn't know I sounded so melancholic. I haven't had anybody to talk to in ages. You're good company. Thank you for listening to an old sea dragon ramble, even if you're still scared. I know it's not much to you, but I promise I mean no harm. I've never meant harm. Ever. It's just..." He glanced away, breaking eye contact. "I was emotional. I had no excuse. I let my own instincts and desires take over my own better wishes. Despite doing everything right and trying my hardest to avoid it, it still happened."

He looked back at Turtle. "I'm sorry for what I've done for our tribe. You can run away now. I'll just be happy I had somebody to talk to, even if it was a one-way conversation." He smiled a crinkly, awkward smile.

Turtle stared. Then, he made what should've been the stupidest decision of his life:

He stood up but did not flee. He sat there. "My name is Turtle," he said quietly.

"Turtle?" he echoed. "You aren't flying away screaming?"

"Not unless you give me a reason to, I guess?"

"Isn't looking at a dragon who's killed dozens of dragons in one night enough of a reason?"

"It...should be, but I'm not that scared of you. You seem too sad to hurt me."

"Hurt you? I'd never do that! My magic is limited. I can't do much besides lift some rocks and play around with the water." He waved his talons. Behind him, a small amount of water rose into the air, shaping and twisting into the shape of a bird. A seagull.

"Even if I could do more, I wouldn't dare to hurt another soul. I've already done enough damage," he continued.

"You confused me for Fathom earlier. Your grandson, right?"

"Yes, Fathom." Albatross's eyes narrowed. "You have the wing patterns. You're royalty as well?"

He nodded. "...and I am also an animus."

He barked a laugh. "Really? I've never believed in reincarnation, but you're the spitting image of Fathom if I've ever seen it."

Turtle shuffled his talons. "Thanks. I got that once before."

"Hm? By who?"

"A big evil NightWing who wanted to kill the entire IceWing tribe. He was friends with Fathom as well. How did I meet him if he was alive two thousand years ago? It's a long story."

"Don't we all have long stories to tell." Albatross turned his back to Turtle, staring back at the ocean. "If you don't mind, may you sit next to me? I enjoy watching the sea."

Turtle hesitated, but he followed. He joined the spirit.

It was a tranquil night. A clear sky, the moons beaming down in their full glory. The cool salty breeze brushed against Turtle. Strangely enough, he felt at peace. He never would've thought in a million years he'd say that when right beside him is the ghost of Albatross, but what can you do?

"I'm sorry if this is selfish," Albatross began, "but do you have the time to listen to an old dragon's story?"

"Huh?"

"You seem like a wonderful dragon, Turtle. You're far too sweet than what I deserve. I apologize if it's a bit much, considering how I am still a murderer in your eyes, but could you listen to me tell my story?"

"Your story?"

"My life. Nobody ever heard about it. They only see me as a monster. I am, but I can't help but want something else. I want to tell at least one dragon about it. Set it all straight. Pour my heart out if only to get everything that's been festering inside me out into the world."

"That'd be alright. I like stories."

"It's not a very happy story. There's a lot of tragedy. Too much, now that I think about it. I'm sorry."

"No no! It's alright. I do want to hear it. What life was like for you," he said.

Albatross cracked another smile. "Thank you..." He sounded as though he was fighting back tears.

He waved his talons, the water rising once more. "I suppose I should start it when it all went wrong." The water slowly began to shift into the form of a dragon. "The day when I discovered my magic." 

[redlikerozez]

In this darkness, which you know you cannot fight - Chapter 1

by RedLikeRozez

Summary: Shi Qingxuan has never been one closely acquainted with the sea, especially not after nearly drowning as a child. The locals in Fu Gu may chalk it up to superstition, but she knows the truth—there’s something lurking in the waters off the coast, something horrifying and potentially ancient. It saved her life once, though no one believes her story; not her brother, not his friends, and not even the town’s weathered and wistfully ignorant locals. The only one willing to listen is He Xuan, a brooding, outcast fisherman who grew up in Fu Gu but has never truly belonged. Their partnership, at first a thrilling summer romance, soon morphs into a terrifying alliance when she realizes the creature in the depths may not be the only thing hiding monstrous secrets. As they plunge deeper into the mystery, Shi Qingxuan uncovers a horrifying truth that might finally fully awaken the creature beneath the waves.

Content warnings/tags: Modern AU, Inspired by HP Lovecraft, TransFem!Shi Qingxuan, descriptions of drowning, eldritch horror, cosmic horror, unraveling the mystery beneath the waves, alcoholism, protective!Shi Wudu, sea monsters

Word Count: about 7k words

Author’s Note: 

Loosely inspired by the songs “The Music of the Night” and “The Point of No Return” from Phantom of the Opera and also Dredge the fishing horror video game (which is a wild combination lemme tell you that).

SPOOKINKY EVENT 2024!!! @tsukimefuku

Vaultworks 2024 submission (didn't get fully funded rip)

Betaed by the amazing @sandsorghum and the fantastic @parameciam

PART 2, PART 3

Chapter 1: Floating, Falling

Shi Qingxuan let out a long, melodramatic sigh full of discontent as she asked her brother one last time, “Why do I have to go with you again?”

“I already told you at least seven times already, Qingxuan. Quit whining and get your things. We’re supposed to be in the air in two hours,” her brother replied coldly.

“I’m not whining, I’m complaining! If you want to hear me whine—”

“No. I don’t want to hear any of your nonsense– whining, complaining, grouching, bitching, moaning, none of it. Get your things and let’s go. I don’t want to be late to the airport because of you. We are not going to miss this flight.”

Shi Wudu was waiting impatiently in the kitchen next to his suitcase and duffle bag. He was leaning on the counter, scrolling on his phone.

“But why did you have to pick somewhere so dreadful?! You know I hate the water, ge! And we’re gonna be surrounded by it!” she complained further, crossing her arms childishly. “So just one more time, tell me why I have to go to that stupid, boring, old town and get on that stupid, boring, old boat everyday with your stupid, boring, dumb friends?” 

Well, maybe Ling Wen didn’t really count as stupid, but she was definitely boring.

Shi Wudu didn’t even look up from his phone or acknowledge her in any way.

She continued, “It’s my vacation, too, you know! You’re dragging me along with you to your dream summer trip and said no to mine? Tell me how that’s fair?! I’m just gonna complain the entire time if you make me go. You might even hear me whine! So indulge me, ge.”

She pawed the phone away from his face when he made no moves and he scowled up at her.

“Make it make sense, ‘cuz so far, I’m only seeing more reasons to complain. You really should just let me stay here,” she insisted. “I will make this trip a waking nightmare for you if you make me go.”

Shi Wudu sighed just as dramatically and started massaging his temples with his free hand.

“Like I said the first time, it’s so I can keep an eye on you. For all I know, you’d drink yourself into a coma if I let you stay here or, god forbid, go to the capital alone,” he explained for the nth time. “I don’t trust you enough to go anywhere by yourself.”

“I’m not a child anymore, ge. You don’t have to—”

“Oh, I don’t have to take care of you anymore, do I? News to me!” he interrupted. “If you’re so independent, then why don’t you move out, hand over your credit cards that I pay for every month, and go get a real job?”

She rolled her eyes. Ouch. That one hurt.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he grumbled, going back to staring at his screen. “If you’re still freeloading, you’re still my little sibling and I am still in charge of you. Until you actually make something of your life, we’ll do things my way, since I’m the only responsible adult here. So we’re going on vacation where I want to go and you’re going to have a great time spending some quality time with gege and his friends, alright? You’re gonna be nice and smile and nod and not be a pain in gege’s ass, yes?”

“You’re the worst.”

He slammed his phone down on the thigh of his designer sweatpants.

“Qingxuan, do you think I want to be taking you with me?” he spat back at her petty remark. “Believe me, this isn’t my ideal scenario, either. If you showed me I could actually trust you, maybe I’d let you go where you want, but until then, we’re both stuck with each other for the entire summer. So please. For my sanity, just go get your things and let’s get this flight over with. I already requested our taxi.”

“I’d rather drink myself into a coma than listen to Pei Ming and Xuan Ji make out the entire summer on some stupid boat…” she muttered.

“Ling Wen will be there, so I doubt she’ll tolerate their PDA for very long,” he replied, going back to his phone again. “And Pei Xiu is coming with us, so maybe you can get to know him better. He’s a nice kid. You might hit it off, who knows? Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she could feel a bit of bile rise up in the back of her throat she had to swallow down. “If you’re trying to set me up with Pei Xiu, please know that I’d rather drown again than date anyone remotely related to that absolute scoundrel you call your best friend.”

“Stop being so dramatic, my friends aren’t that bad.”

“Your friends are the worst, ge. You have that in common, it seems.”

He just pointed to her bedroom, not looking up from his smartphone with the flight itinerary pulled up.

“Whatever,” she resigned in defeat, finally giving in and going to grab her suitcase. “Maybe there’ll be a super hot, tall and muscular, sexy lifeguard or a member of the coast guard to save me from drowning instead of a sea monster!”

“You’re not gonna drown. That was so long ago. Get over it,” he sneered. “And there was never any sea monster. How are you still on about that? Grow up.”

She started feigning some strained gurgling sounds, screaming melodramatically, “Save me! Save me!” 

As she thrashed wildly in the hallway, she almost knocked over an old family photo on the wall. One of the only ones with all four of them in it before their parents died. She rescued the picture at the last second before it could crash to the hardwood floors, and held it to her chest melodramatically. Shi Wudu only looked up when he heard the collision.

“Hey, watch it. Be careful with that.”

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me, Mr. Sexy Lifeguard. Oh my, did you give me mouth to mouth? That was my first kiss, how could you! Oh no! My bikini top came undone! Oh, Mr. Sexy Lifeguard, we can’t do this here! Someone will see!” 

She threw the picture back on the hallway table, not bothering to hang it back up, and started moaning loudly as she walked into her bedroom just to piss off her brother. She pulled up the suitcase handle with a quick pop and dragged it over the hardwood floors as loudly as possible into the kitchen, next to his.

Shi Wudu was trying desperately not to have an aneurysm at her infernal screeching. He tried to ignore her stupid antics and focused instead on reading the terms and conditions of the taxi app he downloaded in his desperation.

Shi Qingxuan gave him an overly fake smile and cried, “You know, maybe I will have some fun, after all!”

“This is going to be a long trip…” Shi Wudu muttered under his breath, head in his hands.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Get over it, he said, she grumbled to herself whilst leaning against the airplane window, looking out to watch the clouds. Yeah right. You can’t just erase trauma like that in the blink of an eye. 

Shi Wudu didn’t know what it was like, almost drowning. He’d always loved swimming since he was a kid, and he was on the swim team in high school. Had a personal best of 29.41 seconds for the 50 meter butterfly and bragged about it nonstop. 

How could he know what it was like? It was like he was made to be around the water. 

Every summer when their parents were still alive, he’d beg them to take him out on the boat in that same stupid coastal town, despite her harrowing trist on said boat. They hadn’t been back to Fu Gu since the accident. Their parents never gave into Shi Wudu’s demands, and after they died, there wasn’t much point going on family vacations. (Until now, it seemed.)

Shi Qingxuan, however, never shared her older brother’s hydrophilic tendencies. No, she always preferred the company of the sand, shore, shells, and seagulls, as well as that amazing ocean breeze, rather than the murky depths of the fathomless ocean. She shivered just thinking about it.

She’d been afraid of the water even before her accident. Not that her brother seemed to care. He was currently leaning back in his first class seat with a satin eye mask over his face, resting peacefully as she recounted her painful memories. 

Shi Qingxuan silently vowed to be eternally pissy and awful the whole summer for sweet vengeance sake.

She hated that town, and rightfully so. But another, maybe more masochistic, part of herself wanted to uncover the truth about what really happened that day she almost drowned. Maybe finally coming back would give her some much needed closure about the whole ordeal and she would be able to move past it. Maybe she could even learn to not hate the ocean, who knows!

There was one thing that wasn’t so horrible about that vacation, though… She’d briefly met a weird boy with the same name as her and his little sister on the beach all those years ago. She could never put on a finger on why they’d made such a strong impression on her, but she found herself thinking about them from time to time.

She wondered if they ever thought about her, too.

Doubt it… she thought, dismissing the crazy notion.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Fu Gu was a perfectly picturesque little seaside town. In the past, it was a bustling fishing hamlet no one ever bothered to visit, but slowly people started flocking to the town because of the historical lighthouse, pristine beaches, and charming atmosphere. Popular tourist activities included flying kites on the beach, renting sailboats or other vessels, climbing up the stairs of the lighthouse, and sampling the local seafood.

Back during the summer of the accident, their mother and father had rented a bungalow and boat for the summer in the supposedly quaint coastal town of Fu Gu. The Shi family had some business ties with Fu Gu due to the oil pipes running along the ocean floor that lead to a rig many kilometers out past the coastline, so they got a good deal on the trip.

Little A-Xuan had kicked and screamed the whole way, not wanting to go, despite gege’s and her parents insisting they would all have a great time by the ocean. She was incredibly insistent, though. Wailing and crying all the way to the docks, little A-Xuan vehemently refused to get on the boat that first day. Her mother ended up having to stay on the shore while her husband and son got to enjoy the boat for the first time.

Even on the beach, A-Xuan was causing quite the commotion. Her terribly embarrassed mother was trying to dip her little toes into the incredibly safe shallows to show her that it wouldn’t hurt, but A-Xuan just kept screaming bloody murder every time the foamy tide came running up towards her. 

It was only until some little boy about her age ran over and invited her to play in the sand that she stopped her tantrum. The little boy led her over to his little sister who was dutifully helping her big bro build an elaborate sandcastle. 

Finally able to relax, her mother sprawled out in a lounge chair under a big umbrella a little ways away with some alcoholic drink that wasn’t nearly strong enough for her ruined outing. She watched the three kids play while she waited for her husband and son to come back from the probably much more invigorating boating trip along the coast.

“The water isn’t scary,” the little boy said late into the construction of their joint sandcastle, taking a big scoop of sand into a colorful plastic pale. “It’s nice.”

“It’s scary,” A-Xuan insisted, a deep frown on her face. She had found several little cowrie shells along the beach and was sticking them into the outer walls of their compound.

“No, it’s not,” he said with a severe brow for someone so young.

“Yes, it is!” She put her hands on her hips to punctuate her sentence.

He gazed out to the horizon, his gaze softening instantly. “The ocean will be nice to you if you’re nice to it, right meimei?”

“Mn!” the little toddler sounded, nodding vigorously.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” A-Xuan pouted. “The ocean isn’t a person. It doesn’t have feelings.”

“If you keep saying that, it’ll get mad at you,” he warned, furrowing his brows with an intense golden gaze.

“That’s silly.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, pouring out the pale to make a new section of the increasingly elaborate sandcastle. “Can you swim?” he asked, changing topics.

“No! And I don’t want to know!”

“No wonder it���s scary. Even meimei can swim. And she’s three.”

“Can Daiyu-er go swimming with gege?” she asked, tugging on the side of his swim shirt. 

He shook his head. “Not right now. We have to finish the fortress together.”

“No, it’s scary because it’s scary. Not because I can’t swim. I don’t want to swim because it's scary,” A-Xuan continued.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he countered. “Scary things are scary because they make you afraid, not because they’re scary. Scary things are different from person to person.”

“Nuh-uh! Everyone’s scared of sharks. Sharks are scary.”

“I’m not afraid of sharks. They’re cool.”

“Cool?! They eat people!”

“They don’t want to hurt people. They mistake the people for food and then the humans make movies about sharks and start killing them ‘cuz they’re afraid. It’s not fair to the sharks. They just made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment before A-Xuan finally deduced, “You’re weird.”

“You’re weird,” he retorted back immediately.

“Gege’s weird!” Daiyu-er echoed happily.

The boy was about to argue with his little sister before A-Xuan stood up and dusted the sand off her legs.

“I’m gonna go get some more shells,” she said. “Does your sister wanna come with me?”

“No, we’ll keep working on the foundations of the fortress.”

“Oh yeah, her name is Daiyu-er, right? So what’s your name, weirdo? I’m–”

“A-Xuan!” called out her mother from under the shady umbrella.

Both older kids’ attention snapped over to see who was calling their name. Daiyu-er kept slapping her chubby little fingers against the sides of the outer walls, making sure they wouldn’t fall.

“YES?” they called out in unison.

Bright emerald green eyes locked onto stern golden brown ones.

“I’m A-Xuan,” they both said at the same time.

“Wait, what? No, you’re not. I’m A-Xuan,” A-Xuan insisted, pointing to herself. She was in a cute little green and white sailor outfit with her chestnut colored hair in tiny, curly pigtails.

“No, I’m A-Xuan,” the second A-Xuan said, in black swim trunks with a big shark mouth on one leg and a matching swim shirt. His inky black hair gently jostled about in the ocean breeze. He hadn’t gone back in the ocean for a while, but he was still dripping wet. Daiyu-er, too.

“A-Xuan?” her mother called out again.

“COMING!” they both yelled.

“Hey! Stop! That’s my name! You’re copying me!” she demanded, pushing him in the arm.

“No, it’s my name. Stop it!”

They started batting at each other like cats until A-Xuan’s mom finally came over to break them up. Daiyu-er was clapping happily, in a fit of giggles over their bickering.

“A-Xuan, stop that!” she called, horrified her child was hitting another kid.

“He started it!” “She started it!” they called out in unison, pointing accusatory fingers at the other.

“Mama, he says his name is A-Xuan, but that’s my name! Make him stop!”

“My name is A-Xuan! He Xuan!”

“A-Xuan gege!” Daiyu-er confirmed, pointing at her brother. “And A-Xuan jiejie!” She pointed to the other A-Xuan.

Her mom started laughing and said, “Oh, I see. There are two A-Xuan! Qingxuan, isn’t that something?”

“Two A-Xuan?” she asked, looking wildly affronted by the boy who dared to share her name. Thick tears started welling up in her eyes and she began absolutely wailing, screaming how she wanted to be the only A-Xuan.

“Fine, then I’ll be Xuan-er,” the boy finally huffed. “Xuan-er and Daiyu-er.”

“No, you don’t have to—” her mother tried to interject.

“Okay,” A-Xuan sniffed, instantly shutting off the tears. “A-Xuan and Xuan-er.”

“Xuan-er gege!” Daiyu-er accepted easily.

Her mother slapped a hand to her slightly red forehead. What am I gonna do with this stubborn, spoiled child? She should be an actress at this rate…

(She was so stubborn, in fact, that one day a couple of years before this vacation-turned-nightmare, A-Xuan had insisted that she was a little girl instead of a boy and there was nothing any of her family could do except just accept that A-Xuan was their daughter now. 

They took her to a pediatrician and a child behavioral therapist, both of which couldn’t find anything clinically wrong, other than gender dysphoria. When she got older, they’d have to make some tough decisions, but before puberty, the best prescription was really just going along with it. Her family thought it wouldn’t be too long before she got bored of being a girl, but it had been nearly two years at this point and she showed zero signs of stopping anytime soon.)

“Anyways, A-Xuan, Baba and Gege are back from the boat! Let’s go meet them on the docks.”

Little A-Xuan looked back at the boy and said, “We didn’t finish the palace. Mama, can I come back to play with Xuan-er and Daiyu-er again tomorrow?”

“We’ll be here tomorrow if you wanna keep building the Nether Water Manor,” confirmed Xuan-er with a slight smirk.

“That’s not its name! It’s called the Palace of Wind and Water, not the stupid ‘Nether Water Manor’!”

Her mother cut in before her daughter could start another fight with the boy. “We promised your brother we’d try going back on the boat tomorrow, remember?” (A-Xuan definitely never made any such promises.)

She looked her mother dead in the eyes and stated plainly, “I'm not getting on that boat, Mama. I’ll scream the whole time if you make me. The ocean is mean and scary and there are sharks. I wanna finish building the sandcastle with Xuan-er.”

After a long moment, her mother just sighed and said, “I’ll think about it. We came all this way to enjoy the ocean, A-Xuan. Mama wants to be with Baba and Gege on the boat. Don’t you wanna be with Gege and have fun together?”

She shook her head violently back and forth and crossed her arms, puffing her cheeks out a bit. Xuan-er started snickering lightly at her. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you hear how fun it was,” her mother said, hoping and praying for her stubborn child to change her mind, knowing deep down that it was useless.

“Bye bye! I’ll see ya tomorrow, Xuan-er! See you Daiyu-er!”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Bye bye, A-Xuan jiejie!” Daiyu-er called back, waving excitedly.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A-Xuan never showed up to build sandcastles the next day.

“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” she shrieked, flailing and struggling out of her father’s strong grip. “I WON’T GO! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”

“If you keep struggling and I drop you, you could fall in,” Baba said, the picture of calm, as he tried to wrangle her onto the anchored boat, still docked at the pier.

She gulped audibly, eyes going wide and she instantly went rigid like a piece of driftwood in his arms. Tears started welling up in her eyes as Baba set her down on the seating area of the speedboat.

“See, it’s not so scary!” Shi Wudu said, rushing to her side.

Except, it was very scary. She stared out into the endless horizon and all she could see was blue. Horrifying, dreadful, unknown ocean, as far as her eyes could see. She wanted to dash off the boat, run as far away as her legs could take her, and go back to the safety of the beach. Xuan-er and Daiyu-er were waiting for her to finish the sandcastle! But she was too terrified to even move from the bench. Her fingers turned into claws as she tried to ground herself deeper into the plastic-feeling leather upholstery.

“I wanna go back!” she cried, bursting into sobs. 

Mama appeared at her side, holding two life jackets. She passed one over to Shi Wudu.

“Do I have to, Mama? I’m really good at swimming,” he protested.

“Yes, put it on,” she replied. “Just in case.”

Shi Wudu who buckled it around his torso reluctantly. He gave A-Xuan a quick but comforting pat on the shoulder and went to ask Baba if he needed any help with the boat.

A-Xuan kept crying and trying to fight Mama who was only trying to buckle the life jacket around her torso.

“I wanna go back! I wanna get off! I don’t wanna go on the boat!” she wailed, trying to swat Mama’s arms away.

“Do you want to fall in and drown?” Mama asked, already getting frustrated. A-Xuan stopped fighting her for a moment as that thought consumed her mind. She fervently shook her head. “Then let me put this on you.”

Mama huffed and sat down next to her once it was secured. A-Xuan clung to her mother’s arms, digging her tiny fingernails into her arm and continued weeping.

“It’s going to be fun! Look how Gege’s not afraid, yeah? Baba’s not afraid and neither am I,” she tried to soothe. “If there was really something scary out there, we would be scared, but we’re not. So it’s going to be fine!”

Mama made a fair point. Shi Wudu and Baba weren't scared of anything, but Mama was a scaredy cat like her. If everyone wasn’t scared, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad…? 

Except, right as she had that thought, Baba started up the engine of the boat. With a wicked lurch, they started a rather bumpy journey taxiing out into the open ocean.

A-Xuan practically jumped into Mama’s arms and hid her face into her armpit, screaming bloody murder from the sudden change in speed.

“I wanna go back! I don’t wanna go! Don’t take me out there!” Her sobs were muffled from the motor and by shouting directly into Mama’s arm.

“It’ll be alright, A-Xuan,” Mama said, tracing smooth circles on her arm since the life jacket covered up most of her back. “Come on, it’ll be okay. It’s really not so scary, I promise. The ocean is really pretty today. It’s nice and calm. The weather’s nice. We’re gonna have a lot of fun, yeah?”

“NO! I WANNA GO BACK! TAKE ME BACK!” She lifted her head and screamed directly into Mama’s face, her terror mingling with rage when they made no motions to turn around and take her back to shore.

And from such a wild motion of her head, combined with the jostling of the boat from the ocean waves, a wave of nausea picked up in her throat. It just made her cry even harder, scream even louder.

Mama was about to lose it. “A-Xuan! Stop screaming!”

“NO!”

Mama eventually pushed her out of her lap if she was just going to keep yelling directly into her ears. 

“Mama, wait! No! Don’t go! I—” she tried to say, but Mama wasn’t listening. Her pleas died in her throat as another lurch of the boat made her screech in terror.

With Mama as her anchor gone, this left poor A-Xuan clinging desperately to the bench below her for purchase with every toss and turn of the boat in the waves.

“Wudu, tell your sister to stop screaming,” Mama ordered her older, more sensible son. A-Xuan actually listened to him. Maybe he could calm her down. Or else, this was going to be a very long day.

Shi Wudu sighed and did his best to try and comfort her, but at this point, A-Xuan was so angry and so thoroughly upset and helpless to do anything, that she was content to just keep wailing and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Her family thought that if A-Xuan had been set loose in the Monster’s Inc. universe, she would’ve supplied enough scream power to last for decades. Centuries even.

Mama resorted to drinking, as she usually did, just to cope with the noise. Baba felt sorry for A-Xuan and wanted to go comfort her, but he was the only one who knew how to drive the boat. Shi Wudu was trying to avoid his little sister because he was also growing irritated from her astronomical tantrum. Thank god, it was a fairly sizable speed boat, comfortable for the family to spread out in while her father raced around, chasing the waves at the insistence of Shi Wudu who wanted to feel the boat jostle and shake, much to A-Xuan’s absolute horror.

“Baba…” she cried out (softer this time), holding her hands out for him. “I wanna go back. Can we go back now?” She sniffled and whimpered her big, teary, emerald eyes at him.

Fuck, her puppy dog eyes were really good. A lethal weapon. Baba stopped the boat for a moment and went to go grab her. He pulled her into his lap in the cabin with the steering wheel.

“We can’t go back yet, but if you’re really scared, you can stay here with Baba, okay?” he compromised. “I’ll keep you safe. It’s better here than outside, anyway.”

She bristled in his arms, not fully satisfied with this arrangement since they were still out on the ocean, but she eventually conceded. She was already exhausted from crying so much. Her face and throat ached. She curled up into his chest and wept silently for a while. Baba helped her unbuckle her life jacket so she could snuggle up closer and discarded it on the floor of the cabin.

A-Xuan yelped and cried out whenever a particularly big wave or hard turn jostled her a little more than expected, but she found it really wasn’t so bad in Baba’s lap. She didn’t have to see the outside and she couldn’t get flung off in here.

“Baba, my tummy feels weird,” she croaked out. “I don’t like it out here. Can we go back? Please?”

He gave her one of the nasty tasting anti-nausea and sea sickness tablets Mama had stocked up on, but made no mention of turning the boat around. 

That was the final straw. 

She wasn’t getting what she wanted, her stomach felt awful, they weren’t taking her back, and the pill tasted like ash as it dissolved on her tongue.

“I wanna go back!” she screamed, hitting Baba's chest with her fists. It didn’t really have any strength behind it. “Take me back! I hate it here! I hate you for taking me out here!” 

“If you’re gonna scream and hit me, I’m gonna have to kick you out, Princess,” Baba explained patiently. “I gotta keep driving the boat safely. I can’t do that with you hitting me.”

She screamed again and started flailing her limbs in his lap, even more enraged he wasn’t giving into her demands.

Mama had to come in and help wrangle her out of the cabin, kicking and screaming while Baba continued driving the boat. A-Xuan didn’t stop screaming for about two hours after that. Literal. Nonstop. Constant. Screaming. Her mother was already way past a tolerable amount of drunk just to cope. Shi Wudu was hanging onto the front railing of the boat with his bright orange life jacket tied loosely around his torso while Baba weaved and sped around trying to catch the biggest waves. They all tried to collectively ignore her, but wow, was she making it impossible.

“Stop that!” she demanded. “It’s too scary! I’ll fly out! Stop it and take me back! Right now!”

“Do it again, Baba!” Shi Wudu encouraged.

“NO!”

She hated seeing them ignore her and continue to have fun on the objectively horrible boating experience. It only encouraged her to scream and cry more.

With copious amounts of alcohol loosening her tongue, Mama finally lost her tempter.

“A-Xuan, shut up! Just shut up! Please, for the love of GOD, SHUT UP! Cry all you want as long as you do it quietly, I don’t care!” her Mama yelled, absolutely over it. “We’re not going anywhere! We’re staying here on the boat and you’re going to deal with it! We’re supposed to be having fun and you’re ruining it! This tantrum is not going to give you your way!”

In response, she just continued to scream and cry even louder and more desperate than before. But now instead of just her face and her throat, her little heart ached. Mama was always really mean when she drank.

Mama made her own loud, frustrated noise and stormed over to the cabin. She was already starting to feel sick from having a few too many drinks, and the rough ride coupled with her growing migraine from A-Xuan wasn’t exactly helping. She got up momentarily to go pop an extra anti-nausea and sea sickness pill in the interior cabin.

After a particularly nasty turn that only fed Shi Wudu’s adrenaline rush and left a huge spray of sea water in his face, he whipped his head around and started jumping up and down, begging his father to do it again. 

It was only then that the screaming finally stopped. 

Mama felt like it was music to her ears. She hoped that FINALLY A-Xuan and tired herself out and quit her infernal fussing.

She came tumbling out of the cabin interior, looking pale, “Do NOT do that again!”

“Come on, Mama! Just one more, please!”

“No, you’re gonna terrify your sister even more than she already is,” she said, not caring to mention that she was definitely going to hurl for sure if they kept this up.

“No, she loved it, didn’t you, meimei?” Shi Wudu called out to the back of the boat.

There was no response.

“Meimei, you loved it, right?” he asked again.

More blissful silence.

When no one replied, three heads immediately turned to look at the back of the boat. Much to everyone’s immediate horror, there was no little A-Xuan sitting on the bench. 

“A-Xuan!” her mother called out, suddenly very sober. “A-Xuan?!”

She ran into the cabin again, but A-Xuan was not there, only a discarded, orange life jacket. Six frantic eyes searched the horizon, searching for any sign of the little girl.

“There! Baba, she’s over there! She’s in the water! She fell in!” Shi Wudu called out, hand pointing out in the exact opposite direction the boat was currently speeding in. A tiny flailing figure was struggling in the water.

“Oh my god,” Mama said, putting a horrified hand over her mouth. “Turn around right now, turn around! She can’t swim! Oh my god!”

“I am!” Baba insisted, already spinning the wheel in a 180.

Mama ran over to the edge of the boat and gripped the tiny orange life jacket like it was her anchor as her eyes stayed locked on the form of her daughter splashing helplessly in the ocean. This was exactly why she was so scared to get on the boat in the first place!

“Did she jump? Did she fall off? I didn’t see what happened!” Mama asked frantically. “Oh my god…”

“I don’t know, Mama,” Shi Wudu admitted.

“Why weren’t you looking after her?!” she spat at her eldest son, despite the fact that it was definitely not his responsibility to do that. “You should always be looking after her! That’s your job as her older brother!”

Shi Wudu’s eyes widened and he swallowed uncomfortably. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s not his fault,” Baba piped up, racing the boat over to where they’d seen A-Xuan as quickly as possible. “I’m the one that let her take off the life jacket…”

Poor little A-Xuan, who was still screaming her head off several dozen meters away, had gotten flung off the boat before she could realize what had happened. She tried her darndest to keep her head above the water, but the water felt like it was trying to swallow her whole. She couldn’t seem to kick hard enough and her arms were too busy flailing around to help keep her afloat. She immediately regretted unbuckling the life jacket her mother had tried to put on her torso.

She kept kicking and kicking and screaming and screaming as she watched her family’s boat get further and further away. Hot, panicked tears raced down her cheeks as she watched her only lifeline speed away. 

Mama doesn’t wanna come back for me! was her first terrible thought. They hate me, they want me to drown! They took me out here to get rid of me!

It was too much work, all the screaming and splashing and kicking. The dark waters around her seem to grow rougher as waves began relentlessly pounding against her face, spilling salt water into her lungs. Every time she opened her mouth to gurgle and spit it out, another wave was there to flood her scratchy throat and aching lungs with more water. 

It hurts! It burns! Everything hurts! I can’t keep… I don’t wanna…

She tried to redouble her efforts to keep her head above the water, but her entire body felt like it was on fire from her valiant struggle. She just couldn’t figure out a harmonious rhythm to keep in time with the waltz of waves slowly trying to overtake her. 

One last hoarse scream ripped from her raw lungs as a particularly tall and powerful wave finally bullied her underneath the surface.

“Where did she go?” Mama searched frantically, running all over the boat, trying to see any shapes under the water. “She was around here somewhere! A-Xuan! A-Xuan!! Oh my god, I can’t see her! She’s wearing a green swimsuit! I can’t see her! Oh my god! A-Xuan!”

“I can go look for her, Mama!” Shi Wudu offered, already moving to jump off the edge of the boat.

Luckily Baba caught him by the scruff of his life jacket before he had the chance to do anything so foolish.

“No, stay here in case you see her,” he ordered, throwing his shirt on the deck. “I’ll find her.”

Mama caught hold of Shi Wudu, who was already going back to the edge of the boat to jump in after Baba, and hugged him tightly as they watched in bone-chilling suspense.

Baba didn’t resurface for a while, but when he did, he was empty handed. He immediately went back down after taking a gulp of fresh air to try and search a different direction.

The seconds of waiting turned into agonizing minutes. Still he couldn’t see her.

I have to find her. I have to find her. Where did she go? This is all my fault!

Mama was holding back sobs and Shi Wudu was practically vibrating in her arms, wanting to break free for the chance to search for his sister.

Flailing more than ever now that she was underwater, trying desperately to breach the surface again, A-Xuan undulated and squirmed all over and eventually lost her bearings. She couldn’t tell which way was the surface in her confusion. Her little lungs couldn’t hold much air to begin with, and with so much physical movement going into hopelessly trying not to drown, she had exhausted herself before a minute even passed.

I… I don’t want to die!

A-Xuan choked and sputtered, inhaling a huge mouthful of saltwater as her vision started darkening underneath the waves, trying desperately to scream for help. Water flooded her mouth and lungs, burning and choking her already shot throat and burning lungs. She looked up at the last rays of sunlight peeking through the waves as tears filled her eyes and washed away into the ocean current. Her body felt like the heaviest lead as she slowly sunk deeper and deeper into the darkness. Her ears felt like they were going to explode from the pressure.

Please… Someone! Baba, please! she begged, praying to anything. I don’t want to die!

She thought about how she had been so excited to go back to school after summer break and brag to classmates about where her family went for vacation. 

I still want to be a fashion designer…! I can’t… this can’t be it! Please, someone!

Mama was only just now teaching her how to hand sew bigger things. She had already sewn some buttons on her clothes all by herself. When she was older, Mama promised to teach her how to use the sewing machine. She scrawled into her sketchbook different designs for skirts and dresses and cute ruffled shirts she wanted to make.

A soundless scream bubbled out of her throat when she thought about her family. She still needed to make Shi Wudu proud of her. She wanted to impress him with her accomplishments so he could tell her that she did a good job. He was already so good at everything. She wanted to be just like him. 

She wanted to snuggle into Baba’s chest one last time and hear him read a story to her at night even though she was way too old for bedtime stories. She wanted to walk in on him in his study late at night and grab ice cream from the kitchen as he whispered, “Don’t tell Mama!”

Her eyes started stinging and going cloudy from the added darkness and pressure.

Please…! I just… I want to live!

She thought of that serious weirdo boy she met yesterday and his little sister. She promised them! She promised she’d come back and finish the Palace of Wind and Water. She wanted to be his friend. There was something about him…

She wondered if they’d forget about her if she never showed up.

I’m sorry I hit you, Xuan-er…

There was no one. There was nothing she could see other than emptiness. She closed her eyes as a stray tear bled into the fathomless saltwater trying to devour her, helpless to stop it.

And then, a rush of cold water jostled her a little to the side. She startled, eyes shooting open in terror. A black shadow darted underneath her.

Oh god, please don’t be a shark!

Something lithe and slimy grabbed hold of her foot and began climbing up her body. She opened her mouth to scream, but that slimy something reached a large, bony, webbed hand up and covered her mouth.

Suddenly, A-Xuan was face to face with a creature darker than ink with eyes even more golden than the sun. Its bioluminescent eyes glowered fiercely at her through furrowed brows as it held onto her shoulder with one hand and covered her mouth with another. 

It was definitely not a shark, that was for certain. 

A-Xuan tried to thrash and fight to break away, but her rapidly fading consciousness didn’t make for much of a fight. She squirmed her mouth away from the creature and tried to scream again, but in her panic, she just ended up swallowing more sea water into her already burning lungs. And coughing was little salve to her oxygen-deprived lungs when submerged underwater. The creature tried again and firmly slapped its hand over her mouth. The texture alone of its skin was enough to make her want to throw up.

Much to her continued horror, the creature then opened its maw, revealing rows and rows of razor sharp teeth and forced her face closer to its own, despite her pitiful attempts at resisting.

This was even worse than drowning, she realized, too terrified and exhausted to fight back anymore as the edges of her vision began enveloping her in the calm darkness. But she was so, so scared and trying to cling to any shred of consciousness left, but she also didn’t want to be awake for her inevitable demise. A-Xuan scrunched her eyes shut, waiting to finally asphyxiate and drown or have her face ripped off by this monster. 

No, please! Not like this! I just wanted… to finish the sandcastle with Xuan-er…!

Except, the creature neither attacked, nor did she suffocate.

She couldn’t say what exactly that creature did, but it must’ve been something akin to mouth-to-mouth. Smooth, slimy lips attached to her mouth. It held her face close, webbed hand on either side for support. Saltwater streamed out of her mouth and lungs in swathes, and the creature just gulped it all down. Once all the saltwater was gone, it breathed in precious air, filling her aching lungs. 

A-Xuan opened her eyes only to behold these eerie but determined golden orbs with a slitted pupil beaming directly at her bright emerald eyes. They looked a bit like lightbulbs or like the dangly bit on an angler fish in the darkness. The creature had a vaguely humanoid face amidst the inky black scales dotting its face. 

This was nothing like the sea monsters from the movie Luca. Those were nice sea monsters with pretty colors and not terrifying teeth. This was something much more grotesque and horrifying, but also exceptionally beautiful.

Fully taking it all in, she determined it really was the most stunningly beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The scaly skin reflected off dancing and undulating rainbows like an oil spill, completely mesmerizing her by the way it dazzled underneath the waves. 

She blinked several times, brain trying to put a name to the creature, but it was nothing like she’d ever heard of or seen. And the creature blinked back at her, slits turning softer and rounder the longer they held her gaze.

Finally detaching from her lips after the last big breath of air that rattled around her lungs, the creature covered her mouth with its hand. Instinctively, she flinched away from the slimy touch, so instead the creature grabbed her own hand and placed it over her mouth. After a moment of staring at each other, the creature blinked at her with that same determined gaze and pointed a clawed finger up towards the surface. He gently wrapped an arm around her waist, and started escorting her up to the surface. 

A-Xuan couldn’t rip her eyes away from her strange savior. Its assemblage of fins, legs, and maybe even a few tentacles if her eyes were seeing correctly, glided effortlessly and gracefully through the water. She wanted desperately to open her mouth in shock, but she kept her mouth closed with her hand covering it for good measure.

Once they breached the surface, she immediately started coughing and taking in gulps of fresh air to her exhausted lungs. Her head whirled around trying to get her bearings in the unfamiliar ocean. A firm push to the small of her back had her floating over to a small boat bobbing in the water a couple meters away.

“Wait!” she called out, finding her voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. She kept trying to swim back as its murky visage under the water disappeared. “THANK YOU!” she screamed out to it, feeling like her throat was going to tear open.

“A-Xuan!” Mama called, crying tears of relief. “A-Xuan!!”

Mama nearly jumped in after her when she spotted her, but luckily Baba swooped in immediately underneath and grabbed hold of her waist, clutching her tightly to his chest to keep her head above the water. But she struggled weakly in her Baba’s grip, straining her head to look underneath the waves to catch a glimpse of the creature that helped her.

“Did you see it, Baba? Where did it go?”

“See what?” he asked, breathless from all the tireless searching.

“The monster! With the eyes!” she said, like it was obvious. “It saved me!”

But Baba hadn’t seen anything. No one had. 

Maybe she hallucinated it after all…

~~~

PART 2, PART 3

End Notes:

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[arcane-ish]

To expand a bit more on the whole "is redemption by death a proper arc for Jinx" bit which is gonna devolve a little bit in "who is the main character of Arcane season 2".

Not all Deaths are Created Equal

In my experience, there's usually a "hierachy" of deaths and bad deeds in a tv show. where for example no name characters count less than main characters, death we viscerally see matter more than deaths that not very graphic.

And as a rule the show usually gives us hints about how we should feel about something. If characters react horrified, it means we are supposed to take something seriously. If the characters don't take it seriously, we get the message we are not supposed to take it seriously either.

A good example if Ekko in season 1 expressing moral outrage over Jinx or Silco's actions. A counter example is nobody giving that much of a damn that Warwick just ripped apart a lot of people.

Yes, Warwick attacking people leads to Ambessa and Caitlyn taking it seriously by tracking him down, but there's not a ton of oomph behind it. We don't see anything that humanizes the dead, like let's say somebody dropping a picture of a family member, or Caitlyn having to comfort the loves ones of one of the dead enforcers, or among the dead being somebody like Caitlyn had a friendly interaction with, we don't get to see them humanized by the show showing us the fear on their faces as Warwick comes, we don't see the nitty gritty of how he tears them apart.

That doesn't mean that those deaths don't count at all, but the show certainly muted those deaths, because otherwise we might have had much more mixed feelings about getting to enjoy the hug between Warwick and the sisters.

A good example is Jinx's attack on the enforcers. They are slightly humanized by having faces and lines they exchange with Cait. We see their fear. We see a major character react to it in horror.

Who is the main character in season 2?

IMO, in season 1 it was very obvious to me that Vi was the main character. And yes, I realize some people will fight me on this, but imo it was very classic. Vi is the one on a journey, she did the heist, she fucked it up, she tried to make up for it, she tried to save Vander and watched him die, she hurt powder, she is sprung out of jail and goes on a journey to retrieve Powder and reacts to all the things that Jinx does.

Yes, many characters also had lots of personality, complex journey and moved a lot of action, but imo season 1 fairly traditionally revolved around Vi. She fucked up, she has to face her greatest nightmare in Powder hating her.

Now, in season 2, I would argue that that is no longer the case. IMO Vi no longer acts as the main character. You can argue that she is still the heart of the show or the connective tissue but but imo she no longer is the main character the way she was in season 1.

She has become much more of a spectator of others, rather than having her own goals and arcs.

I would argue:

Caitlyn is the main character of Act 1

Jinx is the main character of Act 2

Jinx is generally very nice-i-fied in season 2. Even in Act 1 when she is hunted, she barely has a death count and not against Caitlyn. Her pranks are non deadly.

And then in Act 2, I would say she is officially the main character, she has the emotional journey, she gets a character just for her to bond with and the climax of Act is that character dying and it being all about how that will affect Jinx. Simliarly, she is the active part of the Warwick story, she encounters him first, she understands him, she proactively seeks out Vi, she has all the special knowledge on him, she reads his letter, she is the one he jumps in to defend in the final fight.

This does not mean that Vi doesn't have emotions and character movement in Act 2 (ie her mini arc is whether she will trust Jinx enough to follow her advice or trust Cait against Ambessa). If the Warwick story had been about Vi, I think the show would structured it very differently. Like maybe Vi thinking being the first one to sense his presence or using the whole pitfight Vi stuff to have her remember Vander and what he taught her, or somebody taking her aside and telling her she fights like Vander.

The fact that Jinx is starting to get nice and semi nice characters (Sevika, Warwick, Isha and maybe Ekko) supporting her and protecting her that again signals to the audience that we should care and share their opinion on her.

IMO Jinx dying might have made some more sense if this was still strictly a Vi centered story. If it was like Vi still going to bat for Jinx and trying to save her and being rejected and it ends as "Vi's biggest nightmare" or "Vi has to learn to let both Vi and Powder go". Now I think that would still be a pretty depressing and shit story, but that might structurally made more sense. But since they took Vi's role as THE main character away from her it just fits a lot less.

What about Cassandra

Now Jinx is a character killed by Jinx who was named, good enough and a main character cares about it. IMO the way they wrote it still makes it fairly muted. Again, we don't see her fear and the gore of her death. We see Caitlyn's grief for her but it not really used to humanize Cassandra much. Yeah, she gets used as an exposition machine, but we don't let's say get Cassandra playing with a young Caitlyn or having fun with her husband (who is muted out by Caitlyn in her grief and is not present in Act 2 at all).

By focusing so much on Cait's grief it makes it feel more like Cait's grief is the problem and she needs to get over it rather than the focus being that Cassandra was a worthy innocent person whose life got snuffed out.

So in conclusion, the way season 2 is written a redemption death would just feel off.

Maybe there's a version of the story where Vi kept being the protag, ie where she more actively fought Caitlyn after Cassandra's death and was the one who tracked down Warwick on her own and who kept trying to reach Jinx as Jinx keeps doing messed up violent things, where Vi would befriend an Isha and maybe Jinx would be responsible for Isha's death. And maybe there it would make slightly more sense. (though to me that sounds like way too much Vi misery porn to be a fun story either)

[thewollfgang]

On the “should werewolves have tails?” Thing, it’s very much a vibes thing, what are the werewolves doing in the story.

Cause my favorite HORROR werewolf is this thing

Varcolac from Resident Evil village.

It’s still got it’s human clothes on, it’s mouth is a bloody mangled mess, it still has thumbs, and when you actually look at it’s face you realize it’s still a human face, but the skull shape has changed so it looks like someone pulled a human mask over a canine skull.

This is purely an antagonist/enemy, it’s supposed to make your stomach upset, it’s supposed to look like an affront to nature and god. You’re supposed to panic and cry when this thing chases you then cry even harder when you get a proper look and realize what it once was.

It also, doesn’t have a tail. Because putting a tail on this thing would: 1) ruin the silhouette. 2) add something familiar that our brain immediately recognizes giving the viewer a “frame of reference”. Sure you’ve never ever seen something like that before, but you’ve seen a tail before, which means even though it’s a big scary monster, that little bit of familiarity is enough to have you subconsciously categorize it closer to “animal” (known threat) and not monster (unknown threat)

Tails are also a way dogs/wolves express emotion, and most humans have a vague idea as to what tail motions in dogs mean, so adding a tail also makes the monster more “readable” and thus more predictable

So, in the case of world building, I’m “Tails if you want the audience to sympathize with the werewolf” “No tails of you want the audience to fear it.”

But then again, you could always subvert the examples.

Have you ever seen The Thing? Because the dog in that movie is genuinely unnerving, and it’s in large part because he never wags his tail. Movie dogs usually wag, and that’s either cut out through framing or even in post, if it’s cut out at all. But Jed just… never wags his tail… and it makes it seem like there’s intent in every movement, like this Thing really is an intelligent alien hiding in plain sight.

I have never seen those things before and I love them oh my god. Absolutely horrifying 10/10. And yes! You've made some EXCELLENT points. In this silly au I'm worldbuilding, creatures and monsters exist (mostly) in plain sight. The werewolves are largely sympathetic, but like any culture/people they have things that foreign cultures will struggle to understand/seem terrible and strange.

The werewolves of this world are highly family oriented. Some packs and families have long, carefully traced pedigree (think like the Kennedys) but other packs eschew this mentality and are willing to take in strays and other non-wolves. Regardless, all werewolves have a respect for nature and the world and believe themselves guardians of it, even if they go about protecting it in different ways. Bachelor packs and lone wolves tend to get in more fights than alphas in charge of packs, but fights to dethrone an alpha do happen from time to time (and they can be to the death). They largely lead human-like lives, and are fairly easy to relate to. So...probably tails and ears for these kinds guys.

However, they are not human, and there are moments you do not want to face off with a werewolf, so I need to think of some ways to get that across without sacrificing their relatability. I'm still waffling over whether they're bipedal or quadripedal, or if they can gait change between the two.

[blood-orange-juice]

I promised a "Furina is Jesus" post. It's kind of a shitpost but also it's not.

The theatre of the courtroom

I'll first have to note that law is a peculiar thing. It is created through practicing it.

It's not just the written rules, it's how we apply them, and who gets to write and rewrite them, and there's no solid foundation underneath.

It's supposed to be treated as immutable until it's suddenly not. Until an insurgence turns into a revolution or the divine right of kings becomes a symbolic relic of the past. In the mildest scenario a bunch of old farts just gather and vote for new rules. Sometimes the very same rules that give those old farts the right to decide rules.

A law remains a law as long as enough people agree to believe and enforce it. How much is "enough" is also debatable (often depends on the size of your army).

It is very much like theatre. Humans like it when the world is molded into coherent stories so they happily participate.

Furina making a show out of trials is not a perversion of law, it shows she understands its very nature.

Transgression and transcendence

Now back to Christianity. The essense of Christianity is transgression. No, seriously.

It's as punk as a religion can get. A god hanging out with publicans and harlots? Killing a god in the most humiliating way possible and being forgiven for it? Symbolically eating a god?

It's insane.

Such practices are usually reserved for small communities of a very special sort (*ahem* left-hand path tantrics*ahem*). It's the only religion I know that gleefully and unashamedly incorporates such things into rituals meant for the lay public.

(this is probably a good time to mention that I'm not Christian and it's a look of an outsider fascinated with philosophy of religion in general)

It's actually one of the real reasons a lot of pagans rejected Christianity so fiercely: it's spectacularly nonchalant in dealing with things that would be considered "unclean" by most archaic cultures.

Now this is important.

As post-structuralist theories state, any attempt to establish a power structure, to set rules or to define self will also produce things that would seem unclean. Impure. Things that should be cast off. It's in the nature of our psyche. The concept of uncleanliness is one of the core mechanisms that allow our mind to function.

(I'll redirect you to Julia Kristeva and the concept she names abjection if you want to dive into it.

I also want to note that abjection and horror go side by side and it makes a lot of sense that Fontaine is also the Lovecraftian expansion)

And what did Christianity do? It subtly removed the importance of "cleanliness". The gravity of it. It established as the norm that norms can be redefined and transcended. That the outcasts and the sinners are not to be forgotten.

It fucking changed the rules of how human psyche and society function. Added an extra possible move.

A sin can be forgiven. A criminal executed in the most ignominious way can turn out to be a god. You never truly know. And also anything can be made clean.

(yay)

(and yes, I know a lot of modern Christians practice the opposite of what I describe. I'm not a fan of these folks too. doesn't matter. the possibility is there. it's glorious. also horrifying and a bit disgusting)

That dude from two thousand years ago

What about him.

I often see people calling a "Jesus figure" anyone who is sacrificed to save others. Or anyone who is reborn. The thing is, this is not how it works.

A god dying and being reborn is the oldest myth on this planet. Last time I checked it was connected to the sun worship, day/night cycle and winter solstice rituals (although it could have changed and also I didn't check very thoroughly). In any way, it predates Christianity by millennia.

Sacrificing all kinds of things and beings to get something in return or to offer gods something else in your stead is also pretty old and very much not Christian.

The unique beauty of that story is that a supreme being, ultimately more worthy than any human, wilfully chose to sacrifice himself for lowly mortals. Actually, allowed them to betray and kill him. And then forgave them.

Do you see how it ties to the previous section? It defied the previoisly established world order (where gods were incomparably more important than humans). It created a paradox. It broke the rules, or rather it destroyed the rules.

Theological debates aside, on a symbolic level it pretty much destroyed the old concept of sin and the idea of a fundamental difference between a god and a human. Everything a paradox touches stops being fully real and needs to be redefined (ceci n'est pas une pipe).

'Sin' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, and 'god' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, even 'death' means a different thing now. The world just starts to function differently after a story like that happens or is told.

(since it only needs to mess up the symbolic order it doesn't even need to happen, only to be told and believed)

And there we have it. A Jesus figure should establish new rules. Preferably better ones. It's someone who fundamentally changes the world with their sacrifice.

That's also where we get back to "law is established by practice". That was the process of establishing a new law.

(this is also why I dislike the idea of Childe as a Jesus figure. he is not a supreme being, he's not the type to sacrifice himself for people he perceives as lower than him, and he is not integrated into society enough for his death to establish new rules. he can still die and be reborn in a new quality, he can even change the world in some way but that would be a different type of story)

Our precious girlfailure

So. Furina.

Fontaine's prophecy speaks of all Fontainians being born with some kind of 'sin'. And the way Neuvilette is talking to the pool of primordial water in 4.1 implies that its ability to dissolve Fontainians is not some kind of natural law but an intentional wrathful act.

And Varunada Lazurite (we know that ascension materials contain the final lines of the archon quest) says this:

"My ideals have no stains. I must correct you. People here bear no sins in the eyes of the gods... Only laws and the Tribunal can judge someone. They can judge even me. So praise my magnificence and purity."

I assume the solution will not be simply killing the eldritch whale or "cleansing" the sin or locking the sea away.

I think Furina will in some way redefine what is considered a sin, or how it should be judged, or who gets to administer judgement. She will create new rules for the world. Probably by dying in some way (temporarily or symbolically) to create a paradox.

(maybe we'll also get to learn that death in Teyvat is not true death)

As I said at the beginning, she understands the law and the very nature of law very well, probably better than Neuvilette. Who else would be better suited for this task.

And no one will notice the beauty and insanity of her gesture, like no one really noticed with that guy two thousand years ago. They'll just think things got fixed because they sacrificed Someone Important.

But that's all right. She'll forgive them.