#like their paths could take negative or positive paths based on the Love you gave them. anddddd i saw that w em. and harding a bit

[emmriches]

emmrich’s personal choice quest holds a weight to it that i really feel like the others didn’t or tried and couldn’t

[lxmelle]

Gojo was once described by Gege as a “man of resignation”.

It is a facet of enlightenment - in which the concept of “non-attachment” is a big part of (attachment is viewed as the root of suffering).

We can interpret “resignation” in so many ways, as it explains so much about his immense capacity for love / acceptance, but also his tendency to... simply resign himself to an outcome / fate I guess - a form of passivity that can be either considered positive or negative, perhaps depending on outcome.

Going with the flow, neither chasing nor halting anything in particular with his immense might and potential. He swayed things to gently influence an outcome. Followed a designated path trying to rebuild the sorcerer world through being a teacher... which he couldn’t fully commit too either, because he had a role as a special grade who had to keep working.

That’s not to say he didn’t achieve anything - because of course he did. But nothing revolutionary. He said so himself to Geto: he didn’t see a point in it. There were just some things he didn’t think would change - someone else would replace the higher-ups.

And thus. Despite his massive strength, he never did ever manage to go all out. Perhaps this is symbolic of an inherently gentle/accepting nature? But there was indeed a monster inside him too - the one that thrived on the thrill of killing and defeating. It was a beast he seldom let out. It was a beast with a thirst.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll paraphrase: like a sprinter limited to go at 8kmph, like a singer who is only allowed to whisper her song, a painter unable to use any paints for their desired masterpiece - how dreadfully, painfully unfulfilling.

So of course it was FUN to have this final brawl with Sukuna - to give it his very best, especially when he also didn’t feel lonely anymore with a bunch of monsters he can pass the gauntlet (his body and his will) onto in the worst case scenario.

But of course Gojo doesn’t have the ability to predict the future, so how can anyone expect that he make decisions and judgements perfectly or accurately? All he can do is consider based on his own judgement. Alone. As the only other person who help him plug those holes in his judgement, Geto, had left him.

It is up to interpretation whether Geto was left behind first, but this really isn’t a competition or about assigning blame… because where do we even start?

One cannot hold Gojo totally accountable for things that happen around him or how others interpret his actions. He was born different to everyone else. Probably treated as if he had this role to fill where people had an idea of what they wanted or needed him to be, but never gave much thought over what it would feel like for him.

Gojo, Shoko, and those left behind have had to suffer the same resignation. After all: What else are you supposed to do but resign yourself, in the face of a reality where even to things you don’t wish to happen, have to happen? All you can do is what you can... and if you can, you wield it with all your might.

Geto tried it to the best of his ability.

He wasn’t Gojo, who could do it if he wanted to.

Understanding that Gojo wasn’t, and accepting that he (Geto) shouldn’t change that about him (Gojo), as he was likely more suited to be at the school - essentially following nanami’s words and “leaving it to him” as Gojo was in his element / thrived on it, but Geto couldn’t be complicit in the system that would lead them to watch their own kind die one by one — Geto left to follow his ideals.

Gojo was referred to as the only one who can take that curse into his own hands. I used to see it as “the only one to kill Geto” after he failed and almost lost his humanity for the sake of power (killing Yuta would go against his principles) but now it also has a new meaning: the only one who can take charge and pursue the ideals to actually change the world.

The curse is the sh*t that is in the world of sorcery in jjk. Gojo seemed to (imho) now feel the need to catch up and hold the reins this time.

It is the end of Resignation Man Gojo Satoru. The emergence of The Monster Gojo Satoru (who Geto assisted in helping Gojo keep at bay through being the “model of humanity” that Gojo could follow) who was then fully ready to take the stand. Like Geto on that stage.

Bye higher ups.

Before, despite his immense strength, he didn’t force his way through. Perhaps this was the outcome of having been forced to be born and live with no choice but to be the six eyes + limitless. You do not actually have freedom.

Unless, you’re willing to become a pariah. To wield these cards that were dealt to you and completely become the extraordinary.

And now, Yuta embraces the same resigned acceptance of becoming a monster. After all... only a few will be able and willing to turn into a Monster.

Out of love. A Monstrous love indeed.

Geto had monstrous motherhood in him. I guess this extends to others now too. To cast away humanity because nobody else will. Nobody else can. So they have to wield it. Become it.

Yuta represents both the old and new world... in some way, he is like Gojo and Geto combined... power / strength + sincerity / kindness. Of course, like the yin and yang, each half has a bit of the other in it - so Gojo and Geto had a combination of power and compassion, but they symbolically represent each,

Arguably, had Geto someone else by his side, things may have been different.

All of this mess… ugh.

It didn’t have to come to this, right? Nor did it have to be the extermination of humans, but it could’ve been a collaboration of the special grades (Yuki, Gojo, Geto) all trying to solve the 3 different factors to the problem: humans as the origin of curses (research), the old-fashioned higher ups + clans, and the elimination of the curses. There may be others, but you get my gist.

But alas, this is the jjk world.

Just some thoughts, I’ll end it here before it’s more word vom.

[scarletcomalies]

I have been obsessed with Sister Mary Eunice lately maybe you could write about reader and Sister Mary Eunice being childhood friends and then they met again and she is already practicing being a nun or sum'n. Forbidden love of sort?

rise of devotion

Sister Mary Eunice x Reader

Word count: 7,565

A/N: AAAHHH! Thank you for your request! I have always looked forward to write something related to my beloved Lily Rabe 💘 Sorry it took so long.

A/N II: I would like to clarify that I wrote this based 100% on the approach given to the concept of the "Devil" in AHS: Asylum. Therefore, my interpretations are purely for fictional purposes. Personally, I don't believe in a "devil" or a "God," but I do believe in the existence of various positive and negative forces that affect our world in mysterious ways, so I also wanted to offer that possibility in the story.

Warnings: Irreverence, mention of caning, devil possession, humiliation, exorcism, happy ending though!

Upon an unexpected reencounter, you and Sister Mary Eunice develop a forbidden connection.

By choosing to study psychiatry, you embarked on a path that definitely contradicted long-standing religious doctrines. People who used to greet you cheerfully and welcome you into their homes for a cup of tea now whispered and gave you disapproving looks, for your choice to delve into the complexities of the human mind through scientific standpoint was seen as a direct challenge to their faith-based understanding of mental health.

And above all, even your own family wondered why did you turn your back on God and defy the plans they had for you? You were supposed to find a good husband, get married and devote yourself to being the best housewife you could be... or else become a nun to serve God for the rest of your days.

In spite of everything, the town of Framingham was your home. You couldn't deny that it had its charm, such as Mr. and Mrs. Bowery's coffee shop, where you were served multiple cups of chocolate while the couple watched you spend countless hours at the same table, reading exaggeratedly thick books. Or, visiting the home of the few friends you counted on, those friends who also swam against the current and somehow it seemed like it was them and you against the world.

You always believed that the only opposition you were willing to put up with, would come from your own family. You assumed that when it came to matters of the heart, you would naturally be drawn to someone who shared your ideals, if not surpassed them. Little did you know that one day, you would reencounter a person who was your polar opposite.

As you sat in the coffee shop's tables, you submerged yourself in the pages of the DSM-I. If it wasn't because you took a pause to take another sip of your chocolate, you wouldn't have noticed someone's intense gaze fixed upon you. It was as if the weight of their stare could pierce through your very being. Initially, you dismissed it and continued reading, attempting to brush off the discomfort that grew within you.

But then, the line was crossed when the person who had been observing you boldly decided to approach you.

"We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5," her raspy voice came through.

"So nice that your faith provides solace and guidance for you," you replied, without even looking up.

"The Lord undertakes to save all those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18 says so," she insisted.

"I'm of the idea that science doesn't always have to fight with religion, but if you consider my field a threat to your unsubstantiated beliefs, I suggest you keep it to yourself, and don't bother me," you countered, and without being able to prevent it, you could notice yourself adopting a tone of irritation.

"You're neglecting the power of prayer and the healing it can bring to troubled souls. God's love is boundless, and it can provide true salvation," she replied.

The persistence of the woman who kept on imposing her religious views started to wear thin on your patience, so you closed your book and looked up in her direction, intending to firmly demand her to leave you alone.

Your eyes were first drawn to her attire, the unmistakable indication that she was a nun. It pretty much explained her intrusion. However, when your eyes locked with hers, your breath seemed to be caught in your chest.

Never before had you encountered eyes so captivatingly blue, and the perfect contrast of her golden hair, slightly peeking out from beneath her habit, and those lips, full and adorned with a delicate shade of pink. In that fleeting moment, your frustration and impatience were momentarily forgotten, overpowered by the undeniable attraction that she had awakened.

"You always reproached your parents for taking you to church, and you were never satisfied with God-related explanations in the face of certain phenomena," she commented, this time with a smile adorning her face. "I should have known you would end up like this, (Y/N)."

You frowned for a moment, but then, your eyes widened as you realized who was standing in front of you.

"Mary Eunice!" You exclaimed, nostalgia and disbelief evident in your tone.

Her smile grew wider as she heard you call out her name in recognition. The memories of your childhood friendship replayed back in your mind.

"It's been such a long time," she breathed out. "The last I heard, you had left town, and it's been..."

"Eight long years," you interjected, a proud smile forming on your lips. "I returned just a week ago. The welcoming nature from people was quite interesting, to say the least. But yours wins the first place," you added, subtly alluding to the judgment you were a victim of ever since you arrived, including hers.

"Well, I had to surprise you in a way," she shrugged.

"A 'hello' would have worked. That's the traditional way to approach someone," you replied, and gestured for her to sit in the chair across from you.

"Look who's talking about tradition," she laughed, sitting down across from you.

You raised your arms, letting her know she had caught you there, "Guilty."

She let out a laugh, and you found yourself immersed in appreciating how her nose wrinkled and lovely dimples formed in her cheeks. Old feelings were rising from within your heart, as if time had never passed for neither of you.

You immediately recalled a time where you were still a child, and innocently seeking guidance, you turned to your parents, questioning why you couldn't marry your best friend Mary Eunice when you both grew up.

Their response, explaining that marriage was based on mutual attraction and love between a man and a woman, only increased your confusion, which was eventually clarified during your teenage and adult years, filled with discovery and a long journey of acceptance.

To your young heart, the idea of loving someone simply due to a deep connection and admiration seemed perfectly natural. The limitations imposed on love perplexed you then, and even as an adult, the question lingered in your mind. Why should societal expectations dictate who you can and cannot love?

"I came to this place with the intention of finding you," she confessed, after going over in her mind how to tell you. "It took asking a few people, and they all said there was a high probability you were here."

As much as you wanted to avoid it, a blush formed on your cheeks, extremely flattered at the idea that Mary Eunice intended to meet you again.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Bowery really know how to make a place cozy," you agreed, laughing lightly. "Any particular reason?"

She shook her head, "My father passed away a few months ago. When I went to visit my home, my mother and I looked through old pictures, and there were several ones of me and you. It made me realize how much our friendship meant to me back then," she continued, taking a deep breath as she looked at me with her blue eyes filled with nostalgia. "When I heard you returned and opened your practice here, I felt... like it was a sign from our Lord."

You were transported back to the early years of your childhood. Mary Eunice, the girl who moved into the house across the street when you were only five years old. Your parents visited her family's new home, and she eagerly invited you to show you her enchanting dollhouse. As simple as that, a friendship blossomed for six years.

Sooner or later, life would lead you down different ways, as Mary Eunice's family relocated to the other end of town, and in consequence, the distance between you grew both geographically and emotionally, for her parents decided you were not a good influence on her, therefore you were forbidden to visit her.

The once-unbreakable bond began to fade into a distant memory, until she decided to tease you with Bible verses in a coffee shop when you were all grown up with very different chosen life paths.

"I'm glad you sought me out," you admitted sincerely. "I'm sorry for your loss. If you ever need to share your feelings, I'll be more than happy to offer you a shoulder to cry on."

"Thank you. Your kindness means more to me than words can express. I have found strength in prayer during these difficult times, and God has listened to me," a smile softly graced her lips, as her eyes brightened in appreciation.

Even if you didn't share the same strong beliefs as Mary Eunice, you always respected the power of faith and how it could provide comfort in certain individuals during times of hardship. If her faith in God gave her strength and helped her cope better with the unavoidable adversities of life, then you were glad she had that refuge.

You placed your hand over hers and you offered a reassuring squeeze, a silent gesture of understanding and support.

As your conversation continued, one piece at a time, you and Mary Eunice shared every detail of your lives, starting at age eleven, when circumstances forced you apart. You listened closely to her describe her journey as a nun, as it was the aspect of her life that made her the most proud.

"I felt a calling deep within my heart, urging me to dedicate my life to serving others and living a life of devotion. I knew becoming a nun was my path to fulfill that calling," she took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. "After much contemplation and prayer, I joined the order and then, the path led me to Briarcliff Manor, where I believed I could offer hope and healing to those in need."

"It's truly remarkable," you found yourself saying, your admiration towards her palpable in every syllable. "To have such a deep calling and to summon the courage to follow it through. It takes a lot of strength."

***

"Science cannot explain the evil that resides in this patient's soul. You're chasing shadows and ignoring the true path to salvation," Sister Jude retorted, throwing the patient's files at you in a dismissive manner.

It would have taken much less than that for you to grab your things and leave, except that Mary Eunice gave you a look that completely melted you. A look that denoted all the hope she had for you.

Two months had passed since your reunion with Mary Eunice. From time to time, you both would meet in the park or take walks around town. It wasn't until a week ago that she asked you to visit Briarcliff Manor to examine a patient who was clearly showing signs of schizophrenia.

There were many people with various conditions, of course, but this one, specifically, had to be put in solitary confinement after assaulting a guard.

"Um, excuse me, Sister Jude, but Dr. (Y/L/N) has, uh, dedicated to the study of the human mind," Mary Eunice interjected. "We may have different perspectives, but we share the commitment to helping others."

Both you and Sister Jude made no effort to hide your puzzlement. Mary Eunice was not the type to contradict others, much less someone as imposing as Jude Martin. You could only hope she didn't get caning after that.

Because you knew, no matter how much your dear friend wanted to hide it.

"Sister Mary, don't be fooled by this world of sin and deception," Jude responded as soon as she recomposed herself. "Your duty is to God, and so is mine. We must protect this institution from outside influences," she gave you another contemptuous glance, which caused you to roll your eyes.

"I understand, Sister Jude, but I also believe that God works in mysterious ways," Mary Eunice said, as if she had expected Jude’s response and had rehearsed her answer beforehand. "Perhaps Dr. (Y/L/N) was brought here for, uh, a reason. Let us not dismiss the possibility of divine guidance."

Sister Jude's expression softened, for the very first time ever, and she sighed.

"Remember, Dr. (Y/L/N), don't let your scientific pursuits lead you astray from the path of righteousness," she established, and headed to leave the room.

You smiled in amazement, and Mary Eunice mimicked your action, then let out a satisfied laugh. That allowed you to appreciate her beautiful dimples that added even more charm to her smile.

"What was that, Mary Eunice?!" you exclaimed, and walked over to her with your chair to sit next to her.

"I don't know," she said, looking just as surprised as you and Sister Jude. "I know how brilliant you are and... I just couldn't let her discredit you like that."

"I'm proud of you, but more than that, I'm grateful," you replied, taking her hands in yours. Her hands felt warm as always, and on her sleeves, you could notice traces of flour, an indicator that she may have been baking bread before this meeting.

"It's nothing," she shrugged, and looked into your eyes. You watched her blue orbs for a moment, and suddenly, you were in another world in just a second.

"It's everything," was all you could say. "It was for me."

She smiled slightly, and looked down. That caused you to grab her chin and cause her to look up at you.

"Thank you," you spoke again.

She nodded, "Sure, it was my pleasure, I mean..." she chuckled. "I have faith in these patients, and I couldn't imagine a better person for this task with Allan, not even the Monsignor."

You opened your eyes in surprise and let out a gasp.

"You don't know how much your words mean to me," you replied. "I promise I will give him the best of treatment."

"I know you will," she replied, rising from her seat. "I have to... go check on that bread I left baking, and I guess you have to get home."

You nodded slowly.

"Yes, I do," you sighed, rising from your chair as well.

"I'll see you around then, partner," she teased.

Mary Eunice never hesitated to give you a heartwarming hug whenever she bid you farewell.

You loved her hugs, because she was a tall woman, and with the heels she wore, she was even taller, so you always ended up being wrapped in her arms and could easily lay your head on her shoulder.

And this occasion specifically, you couldn't forget it. That memory would follow you into the grave, you knew.

When she reluctantly pulled apart, your faces unintentionally remained mere inches apart. You stared at her lips, believing that would be the only thing you could afford to do.

However, she was the first to make a move, it seemed that today she decided to take risks, and do everything that, perhaps, deep down, she wanted to do and never had the courage to do it.

You lips responded to the tender pressure, and her fingers were trembling as they touched your cheek before she drew back. The kiss lasted about five seconds, but in that moment, you corroborated the relativity of time, because for you, they were the most beautiful and eternal five seconds you ever experienced.

"Are you free tonight?" She whispered against your lips. You nodded in response. "Good, meet me at 10 p.m., at the secret spot I talked to you about, you remember?"

You nodded again.

A tender and forbidden connection blossomed between Sister Mary Eunice and you that day, something that you thought would only happened in your wildest dreams, was taking place. There were stolen moments that ignited a fire in your hearts, and they became a routine.

If Mary Eunice snuck out from Briarcliff to go to your apartment, she made sure to return extremely early, and if questioned, she always made sure to buy something at the market or bakery, and explained to Sister Jude that she got up early to go get the item in question.

And when you snuck into Briarcliff through the secret entrance that Mary knew about, you had to watch yourself as you left her room and slipped through the corridors so as not to be seen.

"I didn't see you come in," Sister Jude once remarked, maintaining that suspicious and accusatory demeanor you were so used to that you were not intimidated even if you were now actually committing illicit acts of some sort. "You're too early."

"Yes, I am indeed early," one thing you loved about being a psychiatrist, was that you had an uncanny ability to lie if you wanted to. They taught it to you so you learned how to detect it, not how to employ it, but well... "It's just, they're repairing water leaks in my building, so my washing machine isn't working. I was wondering if I could wash my clothes here."

You showed her the small bag of clothes in your hands, which contained the nightgown you used during the previous night inside the place.

Every time you snuck into Briarcliff, you brought a change of clothes to change into the next day, because you foresaw that eventually Sister Jude would discover you prowling the halls, and if she saw you in a nightgown, that would ruin everything.

She snatched said bag from you, and arched an eyebrow. "Just a nightgown?" She questioned.

You shrugged. "I didn't want to risk carrying a bag full of clothes, in case you refuse," you explained. "This is the only nightgown I need, in case they take a the whole day to fix the leak."

She nodded, and took the bag with her.

"No way! And did she really wash your nightgown?" Mary exclaimed, laughing, letting you see those dimples you were so crazy about.

You just laughed, which confirmed her question.

The evening of that same day, Mary was at your apartment. You were lying on her chest, and you could hear her heart beating, while her long fingers were massaging your scalp in circular motions.

"Do you know how much I love that intelligence of yours?" She asked, and took your chin delicately so you would look up at her. "Maybe it's wrong that I found it extremely attractive that you were so good at lying," she added, as she let out a giggle. You giggled alongside her.

Her fingers traced the contours of your face, and her mood seemed to change slightly. "And you know what else is wrong?" She whispered. "How much I want to kiss you right now."

You eagerly closed the distance between you both. Your lips met in a very passionate kiss, and you didn’t know how, but every single one that you shared managed to be better than the last one, and it never failed.

"Am I good at it?" She spoke when she pulled apart.

You frowned.

"Good at what?"

"Kissing. I just... I wonder if I'm any good at it. I've never had the chance to... practice," she avoided your gaze when she asked.

Your heart swelled with a tenderness that only she could evoke.

"Aww, my love," you exclaimed, pouting. "Your kisses are the best, not just because they’re so addictive, but also because they come from you," you said, as you booped the tip of her nose with your index finger. She wrinkled her nose as she smiled.

Life felt like a dream whenever you and Mary were immersed in the little world you created. Part of you wished you could display your affection like other couples, stealing kisses at the movies, holding hands while taking a walk in the moonlit streets, or taking those pictures in a photo booth, but you cherished your encounters with her, no matter if the places where you could have them was limited to two.

Three months have passed since that first kiss you shared. Until one day, you dressed up carefully, wearing what Mary had said was her favorite dress. You chose a new pair of shoes to add a different touch to the outfit that you hoped she would like.

She entered the office you occupied whenever you visited the place. She seemed to notice every single detail of what you were wearing as you rose from your seat.

But just as your lips were mere inches apart from hers, she spoke, "This is wrong," she stammered, her voice trembling.

"What's wrong?" You asked gently.

"I've been thinking... about us. About what we're doing," she murmured, avoiding your gaze at all times. "It's not... appropriate," she confessed, her words filled with guilt and sadness. "I've been thinking about my role as a nun, about my commitment to God and the vows I've taken. What we're doing... it goes against that. I'm betraying my faith."

And it felt like reality hit you for the very first time, and you realized that it was naive to think that this thing you had with Mary would last forever. It couldn’t, it simply couldn’t.

You reached out and gently cupped Mary's cheek, looking into her eyes with understanding.

"Mary, listen to me," you urged, you were desperate for her not to regret the precious moment you shared. "You know I respect your beliefs, but they are subduing and suffocating you," you harshly snapped, and she denied with her head quickly, as tears formed in her eyes. "Yes, Mary, The Bible can be interpreted in many ways. Love is a beautiful thing, and it's not something to be punished for."

"But it's a mental illness," she whispered, her voice heavy with guilt. "We're both wrong, according to our respective paths."

You shook your head gently, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Darling, you trust my experience, right? It might be considered so, but it's not. Love is a natural emotion, and it's not something to be ashamed of."

Mary cried even more, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"But it's forbidden," she choked out. "This desire is my burden to bear."

"You're not alone in this struggle," you replied, sadly. "We can… rewrite our own destinies, be pioneers of our own love story. Please, Mary, don’t regret this,” you pleaded, as you surrounded her waist with your arms. You really wouldn’t be able to bear the pain if she ever punished herself for what she had done.

But she pulled you away, and she shook her head, signaling you that she indeed would hate herself for something so innocent as the kisses you shared.

She stepped out of the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. You were left standing there, your heart heavy with several what if’s crossing your mind. What if, instead of staring at her lips, you simply pulled away from the hug like you always did? What if you didn’t hug her in the first place that day?

Because if only one of those options had happened, Mary Eunice would not have turned away from you. And the worry gnawed at you.

Likewise, every time you visited the institution in order to follow up with your assigned patient, you stayed a little longer and slipped through the corridors in the hope of running into her. Little did you know, however, that she intentionally locked in her room so as not to see you.

Days and weeks passed, until one day, she was shamelessly walking around with her head held high. She seemed to have had enough of hiding, and her demeanor somehow urged you to be the one to hide instead.

"Mary," you said, unable to help your smile.

It is well said that sometimes, by letting go of something you desire, you are bringing it closer to its arrival. Because, you stopped looking for her desperately as before about three weeks ago, and almost miraculously, she was right in front of you.

"Doctor," she said, with an arrogant air that you could detect with just one word.

You walked besides her in silence, waiting for her to say something, but not a single word came out. She even seemed to be walking alone and you simply followed her like a puppy. Somehow, you discovered that she was very aware of that fact, and it amused her.

You confirmed it when she indeed gave you a quick glance and scoffed mockingly.

"Uhm... how have you been?" you couldn't think of anything else to get the conversation flowing. It was almost pathetic.

"Wonderful," she said with a smile. Finally, you ended up at the door to her room.

You gave her a questioning look, asking her in a roundabout way if she wanted you to come in with her, or if she wanted you get the hell out.

You opted for the first option, and she didn't object at all. In fact, you would have preferred her to at least kick you out or insult you, something... just something that didn't show the cold disdain with which she was treating you.

"Mary, I... I understand that you might consider me a bad influence, for having somehow 'tempted' you to kiss you..." you paused, not knowing how to concretize the sentence you spent so much time going over for when you had her in front of you.

You put yourself in her shoes, maybe she considered you some sort of temptation and she hated herself for succumbing to it.

A sly smile curled upon her lips, as she responded, "Bad influence? Temptation?" She laughed, her tone filled with a mockery that was starting to make you feel irritated. "You do think I regret that?" She moved closer, her body language becoming subtly more alluring as she leaned in. "Regrets are a human quality, everyone has them. And as you can see," she gestured to herself with a sweep of her hand, "I'm far beyond such trivial concerns now."

You felt a tight knot forming in your throat, as you felt an unbearable regret take over your mind with every word spilled from the woman’s mouth. This was not the Mary you knew, the one whose innocence and kindness defined her character. What have you done? Had you participated in whatever event had led to this.

You had no time to answer, or even to organize your thoughts, when she led you to her bed and gently pushed you to sit down.

"Mary..." you tried to formulate.

"Shhhhh..." she put a finger over your lips. "I'm sick, sick of being me."

She began to remove the habit covering her head, revealing her silky blond hair. It seemed that was enough to stop your thoughts for a moment, so you could appreciate how beautiful she looked with her loose hair flying down in waves to just below her shoulders.

She seemed to notice, because the expression of victory on her face seemed to say more than a thousand words. It seemed that the power she had over you gave her strength to go through with whatever her plans with you were.

"Mary, I understand that you are tired of all the abuse you have experienced here and I am glad that you do not regret our… affair. In fact, I commend you for putting an end to it," you began, looking up. The fact that you were sitting and she was standing did not help your situation at all, as she towered over you, almost as if you were somehow assuring her that she was superior to you. Immediately you realized that and stood up, which made you feel slightly better, although the height difference was always considerable. "But you don’t have to go the other extreme. This, is not you."

She clenched her jaw together, making you sit down again.

"How adorable that you think you can understand me, that you believe you can see through to the heart of the matter," her fingers trailed lightly over the edge of your jawline, her presence being incredibly intoxicating. As much as you tried to remain strong, you unavoidably melted at her touch. "What's happening here goes far beyond your textbooks and analysis."

"I just know you hit rock bottom," you whispered, as soon as your faces were only inches apart, just like that one time. "And this is you rebelling yourself. Like a teenager."

Her blue eyes redirected to your lips, and ascended again to your eyes. The latter indicated that she decided not to lean in and kiss you just as she did weeks ago, but the reason was quite different.

“But it's hopeless, don't you think? You, a rational psychiatrist, and me, a devoted servant of God. Such a love story is laughable," she replied.

There you realized, she wanted you to beg for it, convince her that you were meant to be together despite the circumstances that seemed incredibly inconvenient for both of you.

"I know, and I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never expected to feel this way about…" you started.

"Oh, spare me the cheap excuses," she interrupted you. "Don't try and justify what you desire, what we both desire. It's only natural.”

You didn't know why, but that answer didn't give you any peace of mind. Yes, Mary may have decided to accept the fact that she was attracted to you, which would have thrilled you. But something didn't seem right. Something wasn't right.

And you confirmed it when, at your lack of response, she began to shed the rest of her attire, slowly revealing a red baby doll she was wearing underneath.

Your pulse quickened, and your eyes widened in such a way that you felt like they were going to shoot out of your skull.

It all happened so fast, or maybe it seemed that way since you were so immersed in a mental battle where you were searching for how to cope with this situation.

"Mary, don’t," you exclaimed, grabbing the top of her tunic, which was resting on her elbows. "I understand that you're feeling some sort of adrenaline rush right now, but when this expires, you'll realize what crazy things you're doing," you said, as you tried and placed the tunic back on its place.

"Don't be a prude now," she spat, grabbing your wrists to stop you from touching her. The force with which she did so made you protest in pain. "I'm finally giving you a chance to fulfill those fantasies of yours, or what? Are you going to deny to me what you’ve done? You're a dirty whore," she screamed the last part. "Whenever we saw each other, the first thing you did after when you were alone again was go and pleasure yourself, imagining it was me fucking you hard right there. You're a sick woman, doctor. Maybe I should lock you in this place too."

You had no idea what to say. It was true what she said, but how did she know? Was she watching you? Or was it all just mere deduction?

The only thing you were sure of, was that you felt attacked, accused, pointed out, so it was only a matter of seconds before the palm of your hand hit hard against her cheek. It was with such force and rage, that your hand burned and began to tingle.

The next thing, left you completely shocked.

For a brief second, her gaze softened, subsequently showed puzzlement. Lastly, she started breathing heavily, almost having a panic attack.

"(Y/N)! I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to tell you all that! I just..." but she didn't continue, instead, she took a deep breath, and her gaze hardened again. "Ah, actually, I did want to, but as usual, I'm too weak of character to tell people their truths."

Not willing to waste any more time, you immediately retreated from the place as quickly as you could, and the last thing you heard was a loud mocking laugh from Mary.

Although you were drowning in nerves, and many things you could not explain, you were relieved, for that last incident made you conclude that Mary was suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder. It was more than obvious.

However, you couldn't explain how Mary seemed to be aware of what she was doing. Generally, the individual tends not to remember their actions during the dissociative state. You also couldn't explain how she knew what you were doing after seeing her, when there was no way for her to discover you.

The most logical thing was that perhaps this was a case of partial amnesia, and as for the latter, perhaps a person overheard you on one occasion and it happened to reach your friend's ears. Your neighbors were not the most discreet and the walls of the building you lived in were not the thickest ones either.

This led you to a mission, which was to understand her traumatic history and uncover the root causes of the disorder.

***

"Can I talk to Mary, please? Who am I talking to right now?"

It has been about one week ever since you last stepped into Briarcliff, and now you had a new case to address.

Sister Jude swore this was demonic possession, but you did nothing but laugh in her face and dismiss her foolish hypothesis. But you understood why she believed it, for the answer Mary gave you could give rise to such interpretations.

"You can call me whatever you like. Some call me the devil, others call me Satan," she replied, with that same tone of vanity that you had to face the last time you saw her.

"I see," you nodded, looking directly into her eyes. "And according to what I recall, you do what Mary doesn't have the courage to do, in order to protect her."

"Oh, Doctor, you misunderstand. I'm not here to protect Mary," she countered. "I'm here to embrace the darkness within her, to unleash the desires she represses, and to revel in the power I bring. I'm not a protector, I am the one who will vanish her.”

You were taken aback by that statement. This was indeed a strange case, and perhaps Mary hated herself a little too much more than you thought.

"Oh, and what desires could they be, that she's repressing?" You tried your best not to show any sign of surprise. But something deep down within you was alert, something that warned you that she could sense any feeling anyway, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

"The longing she feels for you, the desire to be close to you, to hold you, to kiss you," she explained, as if what you asked was the simplest question to answer. "The desire to take revenge on her 'friends' for humiliating her in the swimming pool that day, or that desire she has to beat Sister Jude to death with the same canes with which she punishes her," she continued. "No matter how much she has gone to confess her sins, or how many Our Fathers she has recited, she knows very well that all that will not leave her mind."

Mary was a noble soul, too noble that it was almost infuriating when it came to certain things like letting others take advantage of it… so this all made more and more sense to you.

"Oh, I... I understand," you sighed. "Well, I would like to talk to Mary. I want her to tell me how she feels," I insisted. "I can help her understand those feelings."

"I’m afraid she slumbers now, resting peacefully while I take the reins," she refused. "But, I bet you know, Doctor."

"I know," you affirmed. "From school to her everyday life in Briarcliff, she has faced such hostility and mistreatment. No wonder she developed these dissociative identities as a way to cope."

"I like to feed on those who are weak in spirit," she replied. "Even if she refuses to accept it, I am a shield against the pain and shame she couldn't bear to face. But it seems you're starting to understand her struggles, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," you answered simply. "Thanks for everything… Satan," you scoffed in amusement a little when calling her by that name.

Normally, with your other patients, you observed at least a slight process after a few weeks, but Mary Eunice's case, which at first seemed so easy to understand, was now the one that frustrated you the most.

You asked Mary's acquaintances, she never presented dissociations, nor behavioral changes, nor any symptoms of Multiple Personality Disorder. Not in her childhood, not in her adolescence, and certainly not in adulthood.

No matter what method or technique you used, you always left the room feeling humiliated and you could even say like a failure.

You never backed down from a challenge, and no matter how complex they were, you were confident in your abilities and understood that you were a human being, not some sort of all-powerful being who solved everything with a magic wand. However, seeing how the Mary you knew was fading more and more, made you hate yourself for not being one.

You reached a point of despair, where you never thought you would find yourself. You began to consider the —previously ridiculous— statements of Sister Jude and the Monsignor.

And this only gave rise to more questions.

If he was the devil, why did he allow me to question him as if he were really a personality invented by Mary? Why didn't he bother to prove to me the veracity of his existence, if he knew full well of my skepticism.

"That's what he wants," the Monsignor assured me. "He wants you not to believe he exists, so you give up, to doubt yourself and weaken your spirit."

You said it yourself. Religion did not have to fight with science.

There were certain phenomena that you couldn't explain to yourself, like that gut feeling that knew before you what was happening. You felt exposed even when you swore it was nothing more than a personality Mary had created... there was always something that made you feel this was something more.

And so, you were inside Mary’s dimly lit room. You never thought your presence would be approved for a ritual such as an exorcism, but the Monsignor said you were maybe the closest thing to a loved one Mary had. How could you ever refuse, if that was the case? You were more than moved.

You stood on the one side of the bed, listening to the Priest’s strong prayers, as you held a small crucifix in one hand and a vial of blessed water in the other. The demon that had taken hold of her seemed to mockingly glance through her eyes.

At the Priest’s signal, you took a deep breath, and addressed her, your voice firm yet filled with tenderness. "Mary, I want you to remember the moments we shared when we were kids. Remember when we went to the Bowerys’ bakery and they let us help them with the morning bread to sell? We were covered in flour," you chuckled softly, your voice occasionally trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. "We can share more of these memories together, if you keep fighting. I promise you won’t have to step into Briarcliff ever again, in fact, Lana Winters just got out of here, she will expose this place, burn it to the ground. I want us to celebrate that victory, Mary, please," you were pleading at this point. It was evident there was a desperate longing to break through her sorrow and reach the true Mary Eunice buried deep inside.

“I’m tired of fighting," you finally heard her voice, and you opened your eyes that were previously shut down as you sobbed. She was also sobbing desperately. "I want to rest."

"You are not your thoughts," you continued, speaking as firmly as you could. "You are not your hurtful experiences. You are not the sum of the pain they've caused."

Mary let out a small gasp, and a hint of a glimmer appeared in her eyes as a few tears escaped.

The Priest continued reciting his prayers, as strongly as he could. You, at the same time, recounted stories of your shared childhood, of the joy and comfort you brought to each other's lives.

While the Priest was in charge of expelling the demon inside her, you were in charge of helping Mary rise from among the darkness.

"Remember when we mowed the neighbors’ lawns? And with the money we earned, we went to the movies, and stuffed ourselves with food?" You continued. "Remember how we had a sugar rush and played Tag, you’re it at the back of my house for three hours straight? Remember how you screamed in the middle of the backyard it was the best day of your life? I do, it was the best day of my life as well," you wiped a few tears with the back of your sleeve, as you watched her scream desperately, and even though it pained you like a million stabs to see her in such a state, you were now sure she refused to give up now.

"Even though we parted ways, I got nothing but well wishes for you," you concluded. "And I’m never leaving again, never without you. It's never too late to come back to my side," you poured your heart into the words.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch beyond time itself, you saw it, a flicker of recognition, a spark of the person you knew and loved.

At the Priest’s sign, you raised the crucifix and splashed a few drops of holy water onto Mary Eunice. You repeated several words of encouragement, and the Priest repeated his prayers.

Her body tensed, a guttural sound escaping her lips. The demon's resistance was palpable, but you held your ground, the faith and love in your heart was what predominated every second.

"Mary, you are so close!" You urged. "You are stronger than this. You are one of the bravest, if not the bravest soul in this world!"

Her body arched, with a strangled cry piercing the air. And then, as abruptly as it had started, it was over.

It was over…

Mary’s once yellowish eyes cleared as if a veil had been lifted, bringing the beautiful ocean blue back to her irises.

She looked at you.

"Is that... you?" She whispered, the disbelief was noticeable in her face. But you knew, she was a warrior, and deep down she always knew as well, not for nothing she remained as kind as ever despite her unpleasant experiences.

With tears streaming down your face, you nodded. "Yes, Mary. It's me."

***

In the cozy cottage located on the outskirts of town, tranquility was the main thing that could be breathed in the air.

A year and a half had passed. Away from the now shut down Briarcliff, Mary Eunice decided to resign as a nun and take an indefinite break after the exhaustive event that had been her life. The journey had been one of pure healing, growth, and rediscovery for both of you, specially for your partner. But that was what you were there for, wasn’t it?

The sun generated warm rays across the kitchen where you stood. You were placing candles on a cake you took out from the fridge, which was adorned with frosting flowers. You woke up very early, and baked it yourself, with the help of the Bowerys through the other line of the telephone, of course, and it turned out better than you expected.

With the candles lit over the cake, you made your way to the small dining area, where Mary was taking the last bites of the pancakes you made her. Those were her favorites, you certainly had to make them for her on this special day.

"Happy birthday to you," you started singing. She looked up and her eyes lit with thrill, immediately, a wide grin spread all over her face. "Happy birthday, dear Mary. Happy birthday to you!"

Blowing out the candles, she turned to you with an appreciative expression in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly.

You leaned in, expecting a gentle kiss, but Mary surprised you by pulling you close, her lips meeting yours with a desire that caught you off guard, and left you breathless.

"Oh wow, is it your birthday or mine?" you teased her playfully.

She laughed, and it always made you feel like you won a contest. "Well, does it matter? Every day feels like a celebration with you, the only difference, today I get a cake!"

You chuckled, and nodded in agreement, as you quickly went back to the kitchen and grabbed a knife to cut the cake you had prepared with too much love for your beloved Mary Eunice.

The simple act of sharing a slice of cake felt insignificant to others, but only you knew how much struggle and resilience it had taken for this simple event to take place. And the awareness of that simple fact, was that made every day as special as this one, as your girlfriend said.

[silver-heller]

HI BESTIE!

So, I'm curious. What do you think about the Diable Mordecai was given and everything Serafine said? Do you truly think Mordecai is trapped in the illegal or bootlegging business because of this? Why or why not?

(Happy June btw! 🤍💚💛🖤)

Ooo, okay but I am in love with this question (AND HAPPY JUNE TO YOU TOO! 💛🤍💜🖤 )

So, I want to analyze the words Serafine specifically said along with the context clues she gave, since I think that's extremely important here in the context of the AU (and just really interesting in general). And, though this is discussing it as if these spirits are real within the story, to be clear, in the AU, it is neither confirmed nor denied.

God Dammit Atlas

First off, let's not miss the symbolism between this spirit and Atlas. A lot of the things Serafine says are how I write Mordecai's view on Atlas in the AU. A light in the darkness, someone that traps others into one path that is "in the shadows", and is a mysterious figure connected with the idea of danger.

His Direction?

But, getting to the point, Serafine refers to the path Maitre Carrefour put Mordecai on as "his direction". This isn't really specific, like, at all. We see Serafine make a few assumptions about that (which I will delve more into later), but I do think it's important to establish upfront we're discussing the desires of a rather powerful entity that could have who knows what intentions, and this is coming from Serafine, who is extremely over confident in her ability to understand this.

But, there is one thing we know for sure. If this entity does exist, within the context of the AU, it took mercy on lost and lonely minors twice. It put them within the care of questionable parental figures, which, on the outside, shows a leaning towards a criminal lifestyle for them both but, this is only a surface level viewing of the situation. This shows some sort of emotional care on the spirit's part, meaning it isn't completely off base to say it may factor in the emotional needs of those it leads.

So, considering all of this, let's explore which each path actually entailed for the two.

Before Mordecai was saved he was already involved in the illegal trade, specifically gambling, where he was constantly and physically abused. If this spirit only cared about keeping Mordecai (or anyone for that matter) in the illegal path, I think it would have pushed Mordecai to stay in the gambling business despite how miserable it made Mordecai.

But it didn't. It put Mordecai in the care of Atlas. Now, thinking about everything Mordecai went through because of this, though there are certainly negatives (and the bag of snakes that is Atlas), it's quite interesting to think of all the positives;

Mordecai no longer had to withstand physical abuse and was taught how to defend himself.

Mordecai was put in a comfortable financial situation, giving him the free time to explore more of his hobbies and take time for himself.

He entered a queer friendly environment (the Lackadaisy).

He met Viktor and Silver, both whom he fell in love with.

He meets Rocky, who soon becomes a best friend to him and a great asexual ally.

He ends up meeting Serafine, who understands his supernatural struggle and they become extremely close.

Serafine's story is extremely similar, as being led into this life actually had a lot of net benefits for her as well;

She was able to stay with her brother and developed a deep, platonic bond with him.

She was taught to be strong and free, something that greatly empowered her.

She felt a connection to nature and herself that has sprouted body positivity and an emotional genuineness within herself.

She started working for the Marigold and experiencing exactly the type of thrills she wanted.

She developed a community that supports her.

She ended up with enough of a rep and the budget to express her gender identity in anyway she pleases.

So really, looking at it, it could be argued the spirit's path is really all about power. Or, more of, giving people the power and connections needed to be safe and themselves in this, unfortunately, extremely cruel and unaccepting world.

In Favor Of The Spiritually Inclined

Considering the AU introduces a supernatural element as far as Mordecai is concerned, along with developing these for Serafine and Rocky, this can't be ignored either. In the AU, none of these characters necessarily have to do anything to be connected with the supernatural and its path. For all of them, in one way or another, it has just become a part of their day to day life. For Mordecai, it haunts his dreams constantly, for Serafine, it is her whole religion and life purpose, for Rocky, it has effected how he views the whole world and the people around him.

Looking at it, Mordecai, Rocky, and Serafine all had moments where someone came into their life to save them from becoming trapped in terrible situations. This is a very specific pattern that is (mostly) only specific to them, from situations that could have specifically led to death (shot, psychical abuse, starving to death), to being minors when these occurred, to the figures that saved them becoming very important familial figures in their life (Atlas, Freckle, Maman Eulalie).

So, another potential angle that could be argued is that these three are like children to the spirit due to their natural connection to the spiritual, which has caused them all to have its general favor regardless of what path they take.

The Plan To Rescue Silver

However, another angle that can't be ignored is how intertwined Mordecai's path is with Silver, and how that will (hopefully) ultimately lead to Silver finally having peace after all the trauma he has endured.

In a lot of ways, Mordecai is set up to have a good chance at a relationship with Silver. He's already there by the time Silver is rescued, conveniently both being one of the strange figures Atlas took an interest in (so much so to include both in the trio Atlas focuses on the most heavily), due to not being saved earlier he also has his own trauma and can sympathize, the personality he ended up developing due to being raised by Atlas works quite well with Silver's, along with being one more inclined towards privacy and secrecy, so on and so forth.

So, hey, maybe Mordecai was destined to become the knight in shining armor that would take Silver into the shadows where he could finally find peace. One never knows.

They're All Creeps, They're All Weirdos, WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY DOING HERE!?

So, this is the point where we really get into Serafine's language concerning the spirit. The most important lines that stuck out to me are these;

I think it's important to establish that what Serafine specifically says about leaving the spirit's path is, "You are obliged to him only, always. Or else you are lost again. Alone in de dark, not sure if you comin' or goin', dead or alive..." and "So don' cross him or he'll eat you from inside out."

In my opinion, none of this specifically details that Mordecai has to stay on whatever path this spirit may or may not have put him on. It would be preferable if he did, yes, but "death" isn't really a consequence here, in my opinion. The closest thing is Serafine's warning, but "crossing" someone, in my opinion, more entails actively screwing them over rather than disobeying them. So either way, I don't think that'd be the "end" for Mordecai.

"But you are where you suppose to be, here - where he wanted you, so we can take up de path together."

Yeah, you know my Mordecai x Serafine ass was going to bring up this line. In the AU Serafine and Mordecai's lives end up intertwining and greatly effecting each other, it's them against the world sort of vibes, and it could be argued any path with them together is the right path.

But, let's check off the sort of "requirements" for being in the "shadow" of this spirit.

"Off trodden paths, away from street light, where all's dim and dangerous."

"Where the strange animals are. Where people like us live."

People like us is very vague and I love that for the AU ngl.

Hm, well, who do I know who is constantly shown as strange throughout the AU, has been constantly ostracized for it, and, regardless of what they do, would probably lead a very private or strange life in the shadows? Who went off the intended path of their life, lives a murky existence, and is constantly in danger for one reason or another?

Oh right, literally every single member in the Lackacrew!

Yep, so this section was basically to say, all of that before? It doesn't freaking matter because, the fact the Lackadaisy, each other, and the illegal trade was in their paths to begin with means their past will always make them end up as strange little dudes in the shadows that will always be at risk of their illegal life coming back to bite them (okay, so, the other things still matter but...). They could literally do anything but still live within the spirit of secrecy and danger because that life has effected them permanently in ways that will never leave them, never.

Conclusion

In the AU, I would very much argue Mordecai becoming involved in bootlegging was indeed part of his journey, but it wasn't the end destination. I think Serafine is so adamant about seeing it that way because, for her, it really is. I think, overtime, she will become more open minded about what Mordecai's path might entail and why.

[aliceward]

Dream About Ebony

What Does it Mean to Dream About Ebony?

Dreaming of ebony can symbolize pessimism, and it’s often associated with wood.

Ebony wood is often associated with negative emotions because of the words typically used to describe it. For example, one might say they are “ebonized” when having a bad day or feeling low about themselves. Ebony indicates wanting something different than what others have and unreal expectations for people around them based on fear and insignificance.

Dream About Ebony

In this dream, you may have seen dark colors. You could’ve also noticed furniture made of ebony and heard the song ‘Ebony and Ivory’ playing all around you. Furthermore, it seems like there was something that required an ebony material to be created or built because not only did your mind wander towards such a thing, but perhaps someone else even suggested as much!

If you receive a gift made of ebony, it may be an indication that positive changes are in your future.

Detailed dream meaning

Ebony wood is known to be a symbol of truth and self-knowledge, so dreaming about it could mean you’re working out the secrets in your life. If there’s fake ebony furniture — like if everything went up for sale at IKEA or something — this would indicate that you were being false and materialistic with others.

A gift of ebony is a positive sign that someone trusts you and values your friendship. You should be grateful to the person who gives you this symbol because it means they hold good thoughts about you in waking life, too!

Ebony is a complex, dense wood that was used to make carvings. To whittle or carve something out of ebony indicates that you are stirring yourself up and turning your wheels in life - doing things needlessly without getting anywhere.

This is a dream in which ebony appears. It indicates that you are trying to get your feelings across. Still, the other party doesn’t understand it correctly. It isn’t taking any action on what they have been told or shown about themselves. In this case, try harder until there is an outcome that will be good for both parties involved.

Have someone look up to you or feel misunderstood by others. Then your dreams may be trying to tell you that something is not as it seems.

The input makes for an adequate summary. However, the output could provide more context and meaning behind why this dream occurs if given a further explanation of each associated scenario with its respective outcome.

The ebony dream left me feeling happy, kind, appreciative, and glad for all I have in life. It made me feel thankful to be alive and loved by others. While dreaming of ebony that night, it also gave me a sense of contentment - like everything was going to work out or how everything and everyone eventually ends up working their problems and differences out in one way or another. Either good or bad but still leading you onto the path you’re supposed to go on regardless if things don’t always turn out perfectly according to your vision/plan/idea at the given time.

Uncover Hidden Dream Meanings

Ebony furniture or ebony items are the most common types of ebony in a dream, however sometimes the color that ebony is can also be indicative to the dream interpretation. Some people may also look up “ebony” nights for a dream question.

Dreaming of ebony as anything other than the wood is a sign of looking at things in a pessimistic view.

The color and the phrases associated with the word are usually ones that are negative or filled with sadness. They indicate a loss to a person’s life or a sorrow based on fear and insignificance. The wood ebony indicates wanting something different, exotic fantasies of riches and wealth, and having unreal expectations of others.

In this dream you may have

Seen ebony colors.

Seen furniture made of ebony.

Heard the song, ‘Ebony and Ivory.’

Wanted something that was ebony.

Positive changes are afoot if

Someone gives you something made of ebony.

Detailed dream meaning

Dreaming of ebony wood in the home is a way of your psyche working out the facts of your life that are not true or ones that you hide from others. Fake colored ebony furniture is a sign of being false and materialistic.

Receiving something made of ebony is a good sign of trust in a friendship. It is also indicative of someone putting you in high regard. If you know the person who gives you the ebony gift then it is this person you see that thinks of you this way in your waking life.

Whittling or creating something out of ebony indicates that you are stirring yourself up or turning your wheels. It is an indication of doing something needlessly or pointlessly in your life.

Ebony is an uncommon present for others. When you offer ebony to someone else in the form of an item such as a box or trinket this is a sign of your own self opening up. You may be trying to get your own feelings to someone or open up to someone but you feel that they aren’t receptive. When you have a dream like this it tells you to try harder and the outcome will be good.

This dream is in association with the following scenarios in your life...

Being stuck in a rut.

Doing the same thing over and over again.

Having someone look up to you.

Being superficial or fake.

Hiding yourself from others.

Feeling like people don’t understand you.

Feelings that you may have encountered during a dream of ebony

Happy. Kind. Appreciative. Glad. Thankful. Loved. Cherished. Content. Impressed. Gratitude.

[naomi-in-japan]

6月5日 - Musashi University Visit 

Today we took a break from excursions to visit Musashi University in a quaint little neighborhood on the northwest side of Tokyo. It was a nice change of pace and gave us the opportunity to meet other university students!

•••

Musashi University 🏫📚

Although the campus was significantly smaller than the likes of the University of Florida, it was still a nice campus with many areas to look at. We attended a lecture for a secondary language acquisition course where we discussed with students how language could influence identity and the differences in mannerisms and social cues between the United States and Japan. I personally notice my own difference in mannerisms when I choose to speak in Japanese in opposition to when I decide to converse in my native tongue English. Overall the class discussion was really nice, and we spent a good hour (and a half????) analyzing our own experiences and seeing how they applied to the contents of the lecture. 

Lunch with Students 🍚🥢

After the class finished, we went out to have lunch with other Japanese students to get to know them more and connect. I made a new friend Yuki, who is very interested in cats, and Harry Potter and would love to one day live in America. So, of course, I had to make the connection and let her know that whenever she begins to plan to move or find time to visit the US, especially Orlando, Florida, to let me know, and I would more than love to be her guide and assist her in the process. We exchanged LINEs and ate at this cool rice bowl place until it was time to get a tour from one of the university's professors.

Tour of Musashi 🏫📚

As I mentioned earlier, Musashi University is a small university. However, the buildings and nature make up for it by far. The private college has a middle and high school attached to it, along with a goat pen! (Even though I am quite opposed to the smell of farm and zoo animals) I was bitten by many bugs on my legs, but the experience and tour were pleasant overall. The professor ended the tour by welcoming us back anytime to say we always have a home at Musashi. And with that, we were dismissed for the day.

•••

 It was a great experience to visit the campus of a Japanese university and attend a lecture to get a taste of what life is like for Japanese university students, staff, and professors. I am also happy with the new connections I have made, as you never know where connections can not only take you but also help further connect those in your connection. That being said, I am excited to see what direction my academic career path moves in because having the experience of coming abroad on an exchange tour around Tokyo and Kyoto has built new ideas that I would never have connected otherwise.

———

📚 Academic Reflection 📚

For the academic reflection, I will refer back and answer with my own thoughts and the conclusions our group came to for one of the activities we did in the lecture at Musashi University. Particularly, Group C on Internet use:

Will people spend more time online in the future, or will people decide it's time to disconnect?

Our group concluded that, based on current trends, people will spend more time online in the future. I believe that there will be some that do push for disconnection, but overall, more and more people will be utilizing the internet and being online.

Is it possible that people will create alternative societies online and conduct most of their daily activities on the internet?

We agreed as a group that there is a high possibility that people would pursue these alternative online societies, especially with so many already dedicating themselves to specific online communities, such as fandoms or political groups.

What effect will there be on human relationships? And on privacy?

This answer was mixed as a group determining whether the overall effect would be mostly positive or negative on human relationships. I personally think there will be more negativity in human relationships with the lack of face-to-face interpersonal interactions. It is important to be face-to-face to develop specific skills and nonverbal forms of communication to process, learn, and register. It would make younger generations, especially those growing up in a society where internet use/interaction trumps face-to-face interaction, more handicapped in learning those skills, perhaps even increasing feelings of loneliness. However, we all agreed that privacy would go down. 

Will it be possible to store our thoughts and memories in cyberspace? What will this mean for future generations?

We didn't get the chance to answer this question as a group, so I will answer it with my own thoughts. I am unsure that, with our current trend of technological innovation, it would be possible to store thoughts and memories in cyberspace. It sounds quite horrific. But in the scenario where this does become a thing, it may either hurt or benefit future generations regarding memory and cognition. I do think it would be helpful for those with diseases like dementia or alzheimer's. 

[waterfallswords]

Name: Samuel Cross

Age & Birthday: 37 years old, August 11th 1985

Gender/Pronouns: cis man he/him

Birthplace: Atlanta, GA

Time in Atlanta: 37 years

Neighborhood: Brookwood Hills

Association: Media, Government

Occupation: Director of Talk Atlanta FM, Political and Business Investor

Positive personality traits: Playful, Tolerant, Reliable

Negative personality traits: Hero Syndrome, Nosey, Entitled

Faceclaim: Chris Hemsworth

ABOUT:

Sam's childhood was spent in Center Hill, constantly wishing he could see the world beyond the trailer park. When his brother was born, Sam took it upon himself to carry the responsibility of their futures. Everything Sam did, he tried to stress the importance that Oliver did the same. They were like two peas in a pod, endearing to witness but the reality was desperation and grit to try and claw themselves into a new life.

Sam's every move was calculated and he was always looking over his shoulder to make sure Oliver was doing the same and was right behind him. When it was time for Sam to graduate high school and venture to college on a full scholarship, he still made sure Oliver was on the right path to be next. College was a crucial time for Sam who made sure he brushed shoulders with all the right people, befriending them based on their name or their families and their potential futures. He only dated women for the same reasons too, sometimes squandering true emotions for the sake of a brighter future.

His schmoozing earned him a good in with media productions and gave him a starting career at the Talk Atlanta radio show. He became a loyal employee and a radio host over time to ensure he was able to welcome Oliver not long after him. He continued to do the same thing until he climbed his way to the top, now settling as a director of the company. With plenty of spare cash, Sam has began investing it wisely opting for politics and businesses alike.

Sam knew from a young age that everything in this world takes hard work but then he also learned that it's not what you know, it's who you know. He ensures his friendship circles are small but full of quality personalities, and he dots between them based on what he needs or what goals he has. He also is always checking in on his brother to ensure Oliver's success is never compromised.

Sam doesn't speak much about his upbringing, even though he loves his parents dearly and has given them a new home and life in Brookwood Hills too. If anyone points out the surname and resemblance to the other Cross brothers, Sam laughs it off and says "How strange."

[sepublic]

Amelia’s Alzheimer’s?

           From what Owen Dennis told us, Book 5 of Infinity Train would’ve been a movie, covering Amelia’s takeover of the train… Which, I don’t know if Book 5 would’ve gone over her takeover, AND her eventual arc post-Book 3, but; I believe the implication is that like Book 4, this movie would’ve been a pure prequel, set in the past. A good look and further contextualization of Amelia’s past sins and how she got into the headspace she now has, in order to set up for a future Book where she finally gets her proper arc.

           That leaves just three other books… One about Guilt, the next about Revenge, and the last of Acceptance. Book 5 is about Grief fittingly enough, and we know that Book 8 (Acceptance) would’ve delved into a passenger with alzheimer’s, whose condition would’ve kept them from engaging with the Infinity Train’s intended function properly. Owen Dennis mentioned how this final season would’ve been based on his own experiences with his grandfather, who had a similar issue in the past.

           It’s easy to assume that Book 8 would’ve been about a whole new character, which leaves either Books 6 or 7 for the resolution to Amelia’s arc- But what if that’s not the case? The Book 8 protagonist would be pretty old, presumably, so…

           …What if Amelia was the Book 8 protagonist? What if, by the end of the series, Amelia’s age would’ve caught up to her, and she’d start developing alzheimer’s- Further complicating her attempts to get her number down, especially when she can no longer remember Alrick like she used to!

           Think about it- Amelia as the final protagonist would be a neat book-end to the series, given how we began with her as the final antagonist of Book 1. The show starts and ends with Amelia, who alongside One-One and Samantha the Cat (and arguably Randall) are basically the core, central tenet characters of the entire show. The resolution of Infinity Train is the resolution of Amelia, who serves as the passenger most entwined with the train, having once been its conductor even!

           Not only that, but with how Amelia’s character serves as a means of criticizing and showing the fallibility of the Infinity Train, how she’s able to game the system, how she works in a place to criticize One-One’s direction with it… And her having to deal with alzheimer’s could continue that theme of Amelia’s character being a commentary on the flaws of the Infinity Train, if it can’t account for her memory loss!

           Amelia’s memory loss would be difficult to work with, if we’d only gotten to know her in just Book 8; But now we have Books 1, 3, 4, and 5 (at the very least!) to bring background and context to her life-story, and it’s a LONG one too! Setting up Amelia’s past in great detail, going into the intricacies across the entire show… It could be setting up the audience to remember all of this, when Amelia herself can’t- So we can get a better idea of her frustration, of how she ended up here when Amelia herself is confused, etc.! We gain a deep and intimate understanding of Amelia’s past for her, in preparation for the memory loss of Book 8.

           Owen talking about how Book 8 would’ve been based on his own experiences, watching his grandfather deal with amnesia- From a meta sense, the audience could serve Owen’s role! We’re the younger people, watching Amelia, our favorite old lady, grow across the series… We get attached to her, she’s basically like family, so naturally it hits harder to see her lose her memory. It’d be a meta way for Owen to really capture what he experienced in real life, by having the audience take his position when observing the character of Amelia.

           From an in-universe standpoint, perhaps Hazel could serve as the proxy for Owen! She’s more or less Amelia’s daughter in the technical and arguably figurative sense- We don’t know exactly how their relationship would progress, and the last time we had hopes of Found Family for Hazel, it didn’t quite work out… But regardless. Perhaps Hazel, as a kid with relation to the older Amelia, would’ve gotten to grow up with her surrogate caretaker, learn to value and appreciate her and vice-versa; And then we see from Hazel’s pained perspective, the loss of Amelia’s memories. Perhaps Amelia losing her memories of her times with Hazel, even!

           This could tie Amelia and Hazel’s stories together, especially with how linked the two are, with Hazel resulting from Amelia’s failed attempts to bring back Alrick! And Hazel has a few of Amelia’s memories- She remembers taking ballroom dance lessons, because Amelia was drawing upon those memories when trying to recreate Alrick. Hazel could serve as a young guide to comfort Amelia, a genuinely emotional connection, someone who remembers what Amelia can’t, in the absence of Alrick.

           Book 8 would’ve been about Acceptance- AKA the final part of the 5 stages of Grief, when dealing with the death of a loved one… And Grief is the theme of Book 5, Amelia’s origin story! Amelia would accept the death of Alrick at the end of Book 8, and perhaps Hazel could learn to accept the death of Tuba and another family member in Amelia… In the sense that yes, Amelia is leaving her too- But Hazel will learn to move past Tuba’s death, and perhaps her own experience can help Amelia as well. They can grieve for Amelia’s memories, for Alrick, etc.

           It’d also be an interesting and frustrating challenge for Amelia- As someone who no doubt has at least some pride in her intellect and mind, having her own mind start to degrade… It’d really put her into an interesting headspace, and force Amelia into that acceptance of what is inevitable, that some things she really can’t change. And of course, this could deal with theme of acceptance, of how Amelia clings to her past with Alrick; Having her memories of him start to fade could really shake this up, and force her to re-evaluate her life and values, her priorities… Perhaps decide to instead focus on the Now and Future, accepting that her past with Alrick is not only long-gone, but possibly due to be forgotten. That she can love and appreciate what it did for her, but Amelia has no choice but to move on- Even without those memories, without that past, she still has a future with Hazel and everyone else to keep living for.

           For all we know, Samantha the Cat could even come into play here! She’s someone with access to people’s tapes, among them none other than Amelia’s- And before she gave it to Simon, Samantha also had the ability to create new tapes from passengers on the go. Samantha is a long-lived denizen, at least about 150+ years old, she’s lived and seen the entirety of Amelia’s reign, and was likely there since the very beginning; Owen Dennis did allude to Samantha being present in Book 5… Specifically, he suggested that us seeing Samantha kill someone was a possibility, amidst One-One or Amelia committing murder instead; And that of course suggests that, regardless of whether or not the Cat kills someone in Book 5, she’d still be a prevalent character.

           Samantha having that past with Amelia, and her own conniving nature, could possibly lead to her conflicting with Hazel, perhaps recounting memories differently, or trying to tell them in a way that’d sway Amelia to her side, who knows? It’s also worth noting that she’s someone who has regret and loss in Simon… So perhaps if she served as a central cast member for Book 8 (befitting my point about Amelia being a book-ends kind of character), Samantha would’ve learned to accept the death of Simon, and/or help Hazel and Amelia move on as well. It’d be a fitting and appropriate farewell, I believe, to have Amelia and Samantha, two main-stays since the beginning, have their arc at the very end of the series.

           And Hazel? Hazel could be representative of a new generation, to step up and take the mantle passed down. One-One’s own input would be fascinating, because like Samantha and Hazel, he has quite the past with Amelia, and a lot of significance and understanding of her sins. And with his control of the Infinity Train, I can see him attempt to recreate Amelia’s destroyed tape, or even try to create a new tape for her, to try and get around Amelia’s memory loss. The Infinity Train selectively deciding which memories it only thinks are important could lead to disagreement with One-One and conflict, exposing the flaws of the system- And/or, the Infinity Train might come across a roadblock because it can’taccess Amelia’s memories anymore!

           This could be a culmination for One-One’s arc as well, as seeing his failure to account and accommodate Amelia’s alzheimer’s, leads him to decide to make MAJOR reforms to the Infinity Train as a result! Maybe he’ll even stop the whole process of kidnapping passengers (while still letting the denizens function and roam freely). Him and Amelia have an unusual, kind of at-odds but not really, sort of frenemy relationship; They’re working together, they’ve been enemies, they’ve collaborated, each was the reigning conductor at one point. We could have Samantha as someone with negative recollections of her time with Amelia, One-One with overall netural ones, and Hazel with positive associations! Three different people with different pasts and interactions with Amelia, to provide their own input on their time with her, and thus help her rediscover her past…

           …Or, at the very least- Come to terms and accept who she is, and finally move on. And, it goes without saying that Amelia’s dilemma with her huge number could be complicated by her Alzheimer’s, if she can’t remember things- And it’d be interesting to see how it might fluctuate, if at all. Perhaps Amelia’s progress actually gets pretty good, but THEN the memory loss begins to kick in, and that frustrates her. It’d teach the lesson that progress is not linear, that sometimes you might backtrack, you might think you’re so close, only to have retread the same path… And sometimes you’re tired of the journey and just want to get to the destination, to the final stop at the end of the railroad. We could have Amelia learn to accept help from others, to not try and seize control for herself as all-powerful Conductor, to gain some humility amidst her pride in her own ability and intellect…

           We could have Amelia awkwardly navigate the train without her memories, stumbling across and slowly figuring out what needs to be done in order to lower her number, with just the number’s movement as an indicator, and no memories to work off of! Her only hints are whenever her number moves to a certain situation, so Amelia really has to work backwards… Through trial and error, figure out what needs to be done; Perhaps a callback to Grace and Simon, who had no guidance and struggled with figuring out what their numbers expected of them.

          It’d be an interesting book-end to THAT point, especially since it was Amelia who unknowingly contributed to Grace misinterpreting the function of her number, so then having Amelia rectify this with herself, learning to properly figure out what her number means, and then accepting that without going into denial like Simon did… It’d really show the growth of her, but also the series, and of course the fact that Grace and Simon were literal kids, and Amelia is a seasoned adult. And of course, there’s the existential questions, if Amelia is a different person without her memories, if those sins still apply if she can’t remember them anymore, if she’s essentially disconnected and detached, etc.

          We might see Amelia operate without any memories of her grief with Alrick, see how she is without that- And it might concern and frustrate Amelia, because she could conflate moving past Alrick, as being the same as getting rid of him truly… And the memory loss certainly doesn’t help. Who is she without her memories? It could lead to an identity crisis that echoes back to Book 2’s themes. Amelia without memories might learn to rediscover herself by looking into her past, perhaps existing without recollection, just this number she slowly figures out how to lower. Perhaps having a new, more detached/objective look at her own past, from a perspective as someone who doesn’t remember them, so it feels like the recollections of a stranger- It might contribute to Amelia really coming to terms with happened, with herself, and finally Acceptance.

           It really could be the culmination of the series; With how the age of protagonists for each Book gets progressively older, Amelia’s elderly age and Alzheimer’s would’ve been the end of the line, the final stop/destination for the train. It’d make Amelia the central Passenger of the show, who we’ve been following since Book 1, watching her progress, in a sense seeing her grow up- And then finally seeing her grow old and suffer from Alzheimer’s. The journey of the Infinity Train could be the journey of Amelia, from her boarding the train, to the final destination, literally and figuratively. It could tie into the arcs of Hazel, Samantha, and One-One, and finally deconstruct the Infinity Train with an outsider who did exactly like that!

           What do you guys think? I think it’d be quite the experience to watch Amelia grow and struggle as a person, so it really does feel personal and intimate to us, when we know her memories, only for Amelia herself to lose them... A fascinating, bittersweet study and journey of Amelia, but one we accept, because the journey made the destination worthwhile.

[stories2you]

I’m Sorry (Modern!AU)

just my fantasy of having soft parents. not too strict, just tough love.

Pairing: Guizhong x daughter!reader x Zhongli Genre: Angst/Fluff TW: Self harm, verbal abuse, OOC Guizhong

Based on what happened last night.  The rest of the story is under the cut.

~~~~~~~

You were just laying down on your bed, resting after a long day of teaching kids at the nearby neighborhood. You looked around your room, seeing how messy it is.

‘I’ll clean it up after a nap.’ You thought.

Just as you were about to close your eyes, your mother, Guizhong the secretary for Liyue Company, knocked the door of your room and entered. She looked awfully tired after 2 days of overtime at work. She then started yelling at you,

“You-! What the hell have you been doing the whole day, young  lady?! Just because I only told you to do the laundry and dishes doesn’t mean that you can relax after! You have an obvious job to do;

Clean. Your. Room!”

Guizhong then started to trash around your room, sliding all the things on your study table harshly while screaming at you,

“Why is it so hard for you to listen to me?! Why is it so hard for you to listen to your father?! Why must it be us to put our trust in you, you horrible child?!” 

You stared at your items that had been thrashed around. Early in the morning, you had arranged your items on the table. You stared at your now, thrashed and messy hard work on the floor. You felt anger pooling in your chest, but decided to ignore it.

Knowing that she wont stop, you opened your messy wardrobe. You were planning to rearrange your clothes tonight anyway. You harshly pull out your clothes from the wardrobe. While doing so, your mother said again,

“Oh, so now your thrashing your own room? What an idiot you are,”

Pain.

You felt tears forming in your eyes.

But you once again, ignored it.

Guizhong continued rambling, screaming and yelling at you. She even yelled out cursed words at you. You, who chose to be apathetic, ignored her words. Because you knew yourself, what you were planning on to do with your room.

The regret you felt in yourself for taking a rest after a long day of teaching. 

‘Should’ve done more after returning home... should’ve done more before going to work....’ You thought to yourself.

About an hour later, your mother kept on silently cursing you, calling you names. Until she found your vision. She threw your vision on your face,

“You’re not worth of this vision! Who knows why the archon gave it to you when you’re useless! Had your father knew about this, he would’ve regretted his decisions to ask the archon to give this to you as a gift.”

You still kept silent until you heard the front door open, “I’m home.”

‘Father...’

Your chest tightens at the sound of his voice. Both of your parents are calm and loving, but when they’re angered... 

There’s no need to explain what had been going on the past hour.

Zhongli peeked into your room and sighed at the mess. He doesn’t say anything and walked off. Knowing him, he would be feeling deep shame for having a daughter like you.

Your mind was filled with negative thoughts. Your (element) vision, is rather a self destructive one. You knew that talking to them are futile, nor talking to others. No one would listen.

Despite your parents’ position at work, fellow peers view you as spoiled when you were never a spoiled child. You were independent. You knew how to manage your time. But due to college assignments and work, your time management has gone haywire. 

Upon the arrival of Zhongli, she smiled and left the room to talk to him. You finished up folding your clothes and rearranged them inside your wardrobe. It took you an additional hour to rearrange them. After doing so, you decided to wash up before getting proper rest.

You didn’t spare a glance to your parents and head your way to the bathroom. As soon as your turn the shower head on, you felt tears running down your face and you started scratching your arms with the effect of your (element) vision. Blood started to drip from your arms and you felt nothing but pleasure of pain. 

The overwhelming pain that you kept for so long; all the grudges, stress and your parents’ words to you. It finally started to leave your shoulders.

Few moments later, you had tried your best to clean the blood from your skin. As soon as you stepped out from the bathroom, you came face to face with Zhongli, your dear father.

His amber eyes widened at the sight of the dried blood and scars on you arm. You spare him a short glance and strode away to your room. Ignoring his concerned look. 

As you were dressing up for bed, you heard a knock on your door,

“Dear, are you okay?” You heard your father called out to you.

Silence.

You just couldn’t face him right now. You knew the moment you open the door, you would let out your tears. You had sworn to yourself to never let anyone see you cry. To you, crying in front everyone shows that you are weak. Crying to yourself is an assurance that you need to rest.

You continued to ignore him until he let himself in, “I’m coming in.” 

Zhongli saw you laying down in bed with your phone in hand. Your vision being tossed away off the bed. He picked up the vision and placed it beside you. He then took a seat on the chair beside the bed. He stared at you with great concern.

The bandages on your arms, the plasters on your neck. He carefully placed a big hand on the side of your head and caressed your hair gently. 

Feeling the warmth of his hand, you turned away from him. You once again felt tears streaming down. You then asked him,

“Am I a bad daughter? Do I embarrass you? Do you regret for giving me a vision? Am I not worth? Am I a total fool?  Do you hate me?”

Zhongli felt his chest tighten and said,

“You’re not a bad daughter, nor you have ever embarrassed me and your mother. I never regret for giving you a vision. Your own self as a child showed the expectations to own a vision. 

And who am I to hate my own child? It would be foolish for me to do so.”

You slowly took a peek at him to see his amber eyes filled with concern. He also had a gentle smile on his face, his hand still on the side of your head. His smile faded a little as her saw tear streaks on your face.

His hand dropped to your cheek and wiped the dried tears with his thumb gently. He then spoke again,

“Your mother didn’t mean to yell at you. Understand that she’s also working hard at work for us. It’s just that something happened back at the company that made her restless and uneasy. The stress took a toll on her. Come, I’ll bring you to her.” 

He gave you a hand to take so he could bring you to your dear mother. You hesitated, fearing that she would start screaming at you again. But with the assurance from your father’s warm smile, you took his hand as he walked you to his bedroom.

Guizhong had her face in her hands, her shoulder shaking. She was crying. It was silent, but you felt your heart clenched in pity and regret. You released your grip on your father’s hand and slowly walked towards your mother,

“Mother... I’m sorry. I failed as your daughter...” You said in a low voice.

She looked up to you, her eyes red with tears in them. She pulled you into a tight hug, whispering her apologies in your ear, 

“I’m so sorry... I really didn’t mean to let out my anger like that... You’re not a bad daughter, nor you have ever embarrassed me and your father. You made us so proud to be your parents. It doesn’t have to be your grades, your kindness and patience to others. Your pure heart. All those in you made us proud. 

I failed as a mother for raising my voice at you unnecessarily. You don’t deserve it. I should’ve called you out to your room and have our usual chit chat moments together. I’m so sorry, my dear (y/n).” 

You wrapped your arms around your mother and rested your head on her shoulder, “It’s okay. I understand.”

Zhongli smiled at the sight of his wife and child reconciling. He came closer and placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder with a smile on his face, 

“Come, let’s have some tea. We can have our moments together.” 

You and your mother looked up to him and nodded. You stood up with your mother’s hand in yours. You gave a smile to them, 

“I’ll cook a simple dinner for you, you both had a long day at work.” 

Oh how grateful both Zhongli and Guizhong are to have a daughter like you. 

~~~~~~~

I had a hard time cooling down after being verbally abused by my mother. She even threatened to kick me out of the house if I don’t do whatever she says. Simply, she doesn’t trust me anymore. 

She mentioned that she’ll kick me out if I fail to get my diploma. I got angry, but I kept my anger within. I can be both empathetic and apathetic. That night, I chose to be the latter. Thus, how I build up my anger; which includes all my inner stress that I felt at college and my situation at home.

Now, It’s not like I’m abusing Guizhong’s gentle character. How I see her when she gets angered may be equivalent to my mother’s. My mother isnt the type to get angry, she would just ignore it. After building up, she explodes, which include both verbally and attempted physical abuse.

Note, I’m a suicide survivor. I still suffer from heavy depression, social anxiety disorder and PTSD. I attempted suicide more than 5 times. I had treatment that eventually wipe out my childhood memory. The stress of having my memory wiped out is heavy and it will forever be.

I let out my feelings by portraying characters being out of character. The part of themselves that may be or not revealed. We all know Zhongli/Morax was ruthless, but Guizhong was gentle. 

Guizhong’s gentleness is indeed a wonderful sight, that’s why I wanted to know how she would react in anger when stressed.

To anyone who reads this, please don’t worry about me. I’m slowly standing up to walk towards the path of recovery. 

[ssaltbending]

Ok, guys, hear me out: Zuko is a Capricorn, Katara is a Cancer —and here’s why (it would be so poetic).

Part 1: Zuko

TW: explicit mentions of child abuse.

I know this statement might seem weird and out of place, but in the last couple weeks I’ve been digging a lot into astrology and, in order not to forget my roots, I thoroughly felt the need to combine both of my most recent obsessions in one post, given that this headcanon hasn’t been able to leave my mind ever since I came up with it: if we applied astrology to the Avatar world, I’m sure Cancer and Capricorn would be Katara and Zuko’s signs, respectively. And I don’t say this in a superficial way, just by looking at zodiac memes and associating Katara with the crybabies Cancers are portrayed as or saying Zuko is a Capricorn buzzkill as people who know astrology on a surface level would assume they are —those are some of the most common stereotypes about the signs. No, I’m saying that they embody those signs on an archetypal leve: in the way their stories, especially Zuko’s, resemble the myths that originate the zodiac signs and their respective traits.

Therefore, without further ado, let me explain.

The Capricorn archetype: the sins of the father...

As any casual astrology enthusiast may probably know, the sign of Capricorn is connected to qualities such as perseverance, integrity, resilience and ambition, typically treated as the CEO or boss of the zodiac. However, the sign itself has a richer and much more complex story as we look at the deities it is associated with as well as the planet that rules it: Saturn, linked to the Roman god of the same name and the greek gods Cronus, Zeus, Hestia and Pan. Some astrologers choose Cronus as Capricorn’s patron god and others prefer his children, but that can be explained very easily.

The myth goes like this: Cronus, a giant and father of what we would know as some of the main greek gods (Hestia, Demeter, Hades, Poseidon, Hera and Zeus), was actually the son of Uranos, who he subverted thanks to the advice of his mother Gaia to use an agricultural tool to kill him. But as time went by and Cronus had started having children with his partner, Rhea, the fear of his descendants becoming stronger than him and doing the same thing he had done to his father took over him, which led to his decision of swallowing them all whole. He started with Hestia all the way back to Zeus, whom he couldn’t swallow right after he was born, unlike his other children, because this time Rhea had hid him in the island of Crete to protect him from his father. To deceive him, Rhea then covered a rock in cloth to make it resemble a baby for Cronus to eat it, thinking that it was a newborn Zeus.

Time passed and Zeus grew stronger until he was ready to confront his father and save his siblings from his womb, and when he finally did it, he managed to force Cronus into disgorge them one by one, in the reverse order they had been swallowed —which left Hestia as the last sibling to be disgorged.

After that, Zeus was left with a prophecy, where he would also be possibly overthrown by a son of his. And after Métis, the woman he was told would bear said child, gave birth he swallowed the newborn whole just like Cronus had done with his brothers and sisters. The child in question, however, started giving him headaches as it grew older and bigger inside of him and would become the goddess we know as Athena. What Zeus did with her was the repetition of a cycle perpetuated by his forefathers, a cycle of abuse and trauma that seems inescapable. What this part of the duality of the Capricorn archetype shows one of the ways in which those ideas of tradition and legacy can be carried on (a very negative one, to be honest), but that’s not the only way they can manifest, which gives the archetype this… almost cinematic quality, in my opinion. (And if we take this into account, I might headcanon Azula as a Capricorn rising due not only to the archetypal coincidences but the overall mastermind outlook she has and how much of a natural, domineering and calculating leader she is, but that’s besides the point.)

Now, let’s talk about the other side of the archetype, which gives it this incredible dual quality: Hestia’s path. Unlike her brother Zeus, Hestia was the one who not only had been devoured by her father, but she had spent the most time inside him as well. This is often associated with the emotional isolation many Capricorns experience in their youth, the lack of warmth and love by one of their parents, along with the desire not to become the abusive parent they were exposed to. Hestia is the other side of the story, the unspoken leader of the Olympians, the one who broke the toxic cycle running in her family for generations, vowing to become an eternal virgin and protector of the earth. Besides, Hestia means “hearth”: the inner fire, the one that is never allowed to go out.

(art by @elisebrave​)

That is the soul of the Capricorn archetype: the crossroads of destiny, the moment when the child decides whether to become like their parents, or forge their own path like Hestia did. Do you guys see what I see now? Are the similarities clear enough?

As my dear friend @persephobeee​ points out in her Capricorn essay (a crucial source for this one): “The Capricorn archetype is a cycle of stuck parents putting stress on their children at such a young age so then their kid ends up making money in retaliation, but then treat their kids the same as well due to the lack of warmth and freedom they had in their own childhood. The intense pressure put onto them as a child [then] leads to isolation and depression. It’s a cycle. ‘I don’t want to be my parent, but also… how they have ruined me’. The chain can continue with Zeus (projecting sorrows and nightmares onto their own children) or it could break with Hestia (the path of love, light and protection).”

This is why Capricorn’s planetary ruler, Saturn, is also associated with ideas found in this myth: restriction, limitation, order, boundaries, leadership, responsibility… pretty much dad vibes, to be honest. Do you guys see what I see or do I have to dig deeper?

“But isn’t zuko a firebender?? Why would he be an earth sign??”, you may ask.

The way that I might be making headcanons about the Gaang’s western zodiac signs isn’t gonna be based on which element they bend, because that would be quite reductive and restrictive for me as an astrology junkie, but their similarities to each sign’s archetype and overall characteristics. And yes, I do see Zuko as an earth sun, but that wouldn’t be his only sign, there is also the moon and the rising sign, which also have an important impact on the individual. In my opinion, Zuko’s personality embodies the qualities of fire signs as well: competitiveness, drive, passion, impulsiveness and loyalty. But to me those qualities are better shown in his character through his moon sign: an Aries moon, to be specific. See those anger outbursts? The “I don’t need any [fucking] calming tea!!”? The “you never think these things through”? Aries moon behavior, right there. But I’m not going to focus on moon signs right now. Let’s get back to the behavior I am the most well-versed at: Capricorn behavior.

So, the sign of Capricorn is also a cardinal sign, a leader, since they are the ones that begin each season. In the Northern Hemisphere, Capricorn season starts right on the winter solstice, and the opposite happens in the South. However, since all the astrology lore comes from the North thanks to the Greeks, Babylonians and more, the seasonal connections are related to the seasons there. As a consequence, Capricorn is the cardinal sign that brings the coldest, darkest season of the year: winter. And incorporating that into Zuko’s character would be incredibly fitting, in my opinion, because of some stuff I’ve read here on Tumblr saying that making him being born during the coldest time of the year would make it a terrible omen for a firebender, worse in this case due to him being born into the royal family, symbols of the power and “supremacy” of the Fire Nation. The fact that he would be born in winter, if we follow this reasoning, would have made him seem as a disappointment to his father ever since birth. 

… or maybe I’m just cruel, guys.

Moreover, I think Zuko embodies many of the Capricorn qualities in the way he carries himself (because no, not all Capricorns are confident managers with the world in our hands) and how hard he has to work to earn everything he gets. A key part of what this sign represents is “the path of hardships the goat has to overcome in order to reach the top of the mountain”, which along with the myth I have described before, could easily be applied to Zuko. It describes values of endurance, hard work, discipline and drive in order to achieve your goals, something that can be seen in Zuko all throughout the series, but changes its focus as the seasons go by. Besides, uhm… have you guys seen “The Day of Black Sun, Part 2”? That is literally the positive outcome of the Capricorn myth made into animation: the confrontation between an abusive father figure and his abused child who has decided to part ways with him in order to become a better person.

On another note, I think it is important to highlight how the Capricorn in Zuko could be seen based on how the rest of the Gaang treats him as well when he changes sides and he’s accepted into the group. How?, you may be wondering: as a father figure, but in a positive way. In many scenes it can be noticed how he naturally takes a position of leadership within the group as well as he takes care of the younger members such as Aang and Toph but, especially in Aang’s case, tries to ground them and teach them. As examples, take the following: Zuko reminding Aang that soon he will have to face the fact that he might have to kill Ozai, him trying to get everyone to train when the comet is about to arrive; how when Aang gets lost, it is him the one people look to in order to lead the group, etc.

Another thing that is well-known in Capricorns is our resilience and perseverance and, honestly: do I even need to explain that? When it comes to the guy who would get his ass beaten again and again and again for one season straight in order to get what he wanted which would also give him the approval of his father, what he craved most? It screams earth sign behavior to me, but with a heavy saturnian influence due to Zuko’s background which, to me, can be quite an interesting reflection of the Saturn/Cronus myth with his children. Said tenacity could also be exacerbated by the willpower and energy brought by the possibility of him having a fire moon, I don’t know, think about it. I stick to that headcanon.

That perseverance can also be seen when it comes to Zuko’s firebending, given how much he’s always trying to improve his skills. Although it could be argued that in reality he’s doing so due to the expectations put on him to be a proficient bender just like his sister in order to be accepted by his father, and his constant training to the point of exhaustion is just a manifestation of that toxic behavior. I am sorry to tell you, but that’s textbook Capricorn behavior, associated with the symbolism of the hardworking goat in general: working the hardest in order to get what you want is always on-brand when it comes to important Capricorn placements, and in my opinion Zuko is no exception.

Final thoughts.

Anyway, what I think would be most relevant is what I mentioned before about the Capricorn archetype and how it could tie in nicely to Zuko’s character arc with him as a representation of Hestia, who could grow out of the abuse she experienced and got a chance not to make her father’s mistakes and break that horrendous cycle she had been a victim of. I would go into this more deeply, but I think it has been enough for now. However, I’ll be back soon with a part two, talking about my water queen Katara. What do you think about this headcanon? Do you agree? If not, why? 

Thanks for coming to my weird-ass TedTalk at 1am. I needed to vent and I haven’t been able to put the computer down since 9pm, I literally only stopped to eat, lol.

See you soon, 

a Capricorn sun.

[ladyeliot]

Before we go (Part three)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your company has sent you to Boston to close a deal on the same day you have the most important date of your life at night in New York. Things get complicated, you can’t return to New York and you have to spend the night in Boston with a complete stranger.

Warning: Fluff and a bit angst.

Word count: 2341

Notes: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Over time life had made you learn many things, all of them based on bad choices that had led you down the wrong paths, yet inside you didn't regret any of them. You learned that when you love someone, or when you think you love them, you open the door to suffering, that was one of the sad truths you had found out. You assume that your heart may possibly end up breaking into a thousand pieces, or on the contrary, you may break that person's heart. Either way, you know that you will never be able to see yourself the same way again, because a new learning will stick with you. That is one of the risks that all of us who bet on love must take.

Perhaps things had not gone in the best possible way, but what you knew at that moment was that the banks of the Charles River created a magnificent scene, which you could spend hours contemplating. The night of a new day was before you, your walk was slow, there was no longer any hint of haste within you, only the reflection of a disappointment that you wanted to consciously erase.

Your companion took up his position next to you, who tried at all times to erase your negative thoughts from your mind by asking you noncommittal questions or telling you anecdotes that involved him in that city.

"Are you really telling me?" you asked, plucking a flower you had just picked.

"I promise, I promise," he insisted with a slightly embarrassed smile on his lips. "I was about seven years old when it happened."

You smiled and shook your head, dropping the flower completely stripped of its petals from your hands. Silence once again invaded your space, but it was no longer as comfortable as it had been at the beginning, nor did it last long, the riverside was a place where you could find anything. A warm composition of notes that connected perfectly reached your ears, coming from the inside of a saxophone, both of you could not avoid directing your gazes towards the man who was in charge of putting the soundtrack to the lives of the people who passed by.

Your footsteps paused for a moment, enjoying the surround sound, which was the perfect complement to the scenery, and even if it didn't seem so to you, to the scene you were living.Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a note, which he dropped onto the hat of the gentleman prostrate at his feet, who thanked him with a tilt of his chin.

"Small gifts Boston offers you," he said, returning to your side.

"I must agree with you," you smiled as you enjoyed your surroundings.

"Really?" he asked in surprise, eliciting a small chuckle from you. "Wow..."

Minutes enveloped you, but again you went on your way. Each of you was there for a specific situation, you had your own situation that was more than partly solved, but he was still by your side, not facing his own, which made you curious.

"Can I ask you a question?" you said cautiously.

"Please," he said.

"Can I ask you what happened?" your words sounded cautious. "With the girl."

You felt him catch his breath, surely he was expecting it, especially after we'd been together for more than three hours without you asking him about it.

"Lana," he began, "was a great childhood friend. We did everything together, hung out at each other's houses, you know." He paused. "Things started to evolve, we started dating, she had always supported me in the decisions I made, but one day everything changed." Chris walked looking straight ahead. "I guess new obligations came along, new plans for the future where we weren't connected and that led to each of us being on different levels," he shrugged. "Obviously these things happen, you can't always end up with your childhood sweetheart."

You expressed what you felt after listening to him through a wistful smile, connecting for a moment your gazes. His words professed that he still had feelings for this girl, it was completely evident to anyone who had listened. Sadly for you it felt as if there was some similarity in your stories, as if an outside force would not allow you to maintain a stable relationship with the one you loved.

"And tonight she''s having her engagement party," you reminded yourself.

"That's right," Chris let out another sigh.

"And you came all the way to Boston for nothing?" you subtly rebuked, not understanding what he was doing there with you and not showing up at that party to win back the love of his life.

"What do you mean?" he asked looking at you somewhat confused.

"I don't know, weren't you supposed to be a superhero? You told me that yourself at dinner," you said comically in a serious tone. "Do you think Captain America would let someone else take his girl?"

Your words drew a small chuckle from inside him, but then he shook his head.

"Are you suggesting that I should show up at the party, grab Lana in my arms and run out of there?" he suggested with an arched eyebrow, and you shrugged.

"I'm suggesting that if you're here for something, just ask yourself why and if you're going to regret not doing it later," those words came from deep inside you. "Don't let it slip away."

Perhaps it was those last words that hurt you the most, for you did it once, you let it slip away, not knowing what it would lead to until after a while, time evidently put all things in their place, and it put them in your place. Chris stopped his steps for a moment, you turned to him, he kept his life a little lost, but on his face shone a smile, he turned his gaze to yours and reached out his hand for you to take it.

"Come on," he said confidently.

"What?" a naive little laugh escaped your lips as you looked at his hand.

"Come on, let's go!"

The instant you took his hand you both broke into a sprint, dodging people, crossing the road without cars having stopped, keeping your heart rate at its maximum, running through alleyways to close the gap. You braked hard for a moment, "wait a minute," you brought your hands to your heels, undoing the heels that were preventing you from running faster, "are you crazy?" Chris hesitantly smiled and took the heels in his hands, "let's go!

You had no idea where you were headed, but what you did know was that it was one of the things you needed most, to feel the wind crashing against your face, to hear your breathing speed up next to his, to release all the adrenaline you had hidden inside you and to feel his fingers clinging to your hand tightly. That spirit that drove you to do things without warning, without thinking too much, to do crazy things came back after years hidden inside you.

"We... we're almost there," he said nearly breathlessly, causing you to give one last sprint. "Are you all right?"

You nodded without barely uttering a single word, for if you did you would surely lose what little air you held in your lungs. Federal style buildings accompanied you at all times, your surroundings seemed to slow down, it seemed as if you had drifted into a peaceful slumber, for in life you would have thought you would end up running with a stranger totally barefoot through the streets of Boston in the wee hours of the morning with barely a penny in your pocket and no idea where you were going.

Chris stopped in the middle of the pavement, in front of a large red brick building fully lit with antique lanterns that added a picturesque touch to the scene.

"This is it," he muttered to himself.

He turned to you and bent down to help you put on your heels, laughing at the situation on the soles of your feet.

"They've had worse," you said, downplaying the situation. "Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

"I think so," he said getting back to his feet.

You looked around, just behind you were small steps that offered the entrance to one of the Victorian style houses that complemented the Beacon Hill neighbourhood.

"Alright," you nodded offering him an encouraging smile. "I'll be waiting here if you need me."

"No," he frowned, shaking his face. "Come with me."

After his answer you arched your eyebrows and looked at your attire, it was practically 19 hours since you had left your house, the attire was formal enough for a work meeting, but not for a party of that style, besides you really needed a shower.

"I'd really rather wait for you here and..."

"You're the one who gave me the idea and prompted me to come, so you're coming with me," Chris approached you and grabbed your arm, begging you with his eyes to come inside. "I promise we won't be long. Besides, you look great."

You assumed that last compliment was an incentive for you to accompany him, but after analysing the look in his eyes, it was impossible for you not to accept his request. The atmosphere was exquisite, but the discomfort was present not only in you, but also in your companion whom you had seen like this before. The lift took you to the rooftop, where the festive atmosphere enveloped each of the people chatting and dancing entertainingly under the spotlights. Your hands connected again as you wove through the crowd, Chris trying to catch a glimpse of someone who looked familiar, but failing to do so on his own.

"Chris?!" a female voice came from behind you, causing him to turn around.

It was only a few seconds before you discovered in the blue eyes of your companion who the young woman who had appeared before you was, it was her, Lana.

"I thought you weren't coming!" the two of them embraced and you just offered them some distance, with a shy smile of joy. "It's so good to see you."

As if they hadn't seen each other for years they began a conversation in which they both never stopped smiling at any moment, you could barely hear them over the noise of the music, but you guessed what they were both saying to each other.

"This is Y/N," Chris said pulling you out of your thoughts, Lana smiled and you both kissed each other on the cheek.

"Nice to meet you," she said smiling.

" Nice to meet you too," you added, sharing her joyful expression.

The minutes passed and you waited curiously for Chris to present some option on the table that would make the two of you go and have a quiet chat somewhere out of the way, but the moment didn't come, as they said goodbye without further ado, leaving you a little confused. Just as you had come up, you found yourself in the lift going down, your nerves seemed to have faded, and your ears had exchanged the indie music for absolute silence. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, he seemed to be in a down mode, perhaps pensive, the worst thing is that you knew how he might be feeling right now, so you decided to give him his space.

Once again you found yourselves tackling the picturesque streets of Beacon Hill, with no apparent fixed direction, two people, side by side facing each other, moving at a slow pace. The last thing you wanted to do at that moment was to upset him, but you felt a little responsible for how he was feeling, since the bright idea of encouraging him to do this had been yours, but you didn't know what had happened to make him feel that way. Nor did you know how to act, until a unique opportunity presented itself before your eyes.

You stopped your steps, causing Chris to turn his face towards you, and made your way towards a pay phone just off the roadway. You took the receiver in your hands and gave him a glance with a raised eyebrow, finally catching a soft look of joy on his face, almost regretfully he approached you.

"What date would you like to call?" you said as if you were the one in charge of the phone dialling. "Maybe your six hours ago self to warn him of a very strange young lady he's going to meet at the train station and that he'd better not think of going near to talk to her?"

You caused Chris to look you intently in the eye and with a sigh he picked up the handset, dialed a few keys, you barely noticed what they were because you were lost in his gaze.

"Chris! Hey! It's me, you," he kept looking at you, "listen, tomorrow you're going to travel to Boston, you know why, Lana's engagement party, well, before you go, a series of events will happen, crazy events," he gave you a soft smile. "Well, you'll see Lana, you'll talk to her, you'll laugh with her and you'll say goodbye to her, that's all, in those moments you'll realize that the past is the past, she's happy and you're happy, that's... that’s all that matters."

Without taking his eyes off you, he took the receiver away from his ear and hung it up, releasing the air in his lungs. You both stared at each other in silence for a few moments, until you decided to offer him your hand as he had done before.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[honeycobie]

Ephemeral

part of the round the world tbz collab held by @ukiyoexo​ and @juyeonzz​

[teaser]

» pairing: sangyeon x reader 

» genre: fluff/angst, time travel au, historical au

» word count: 16.2k 

» a/n: uh hello...i’m back momentarily to post this fic that i put my blood, sweat and tears into and then i’m gonna disappear again :D i wrote on a google docs first and i wrote 36 pages ;;; yeah, i went overboard. anyways, hope y’all enjoy this! pls don’t flop or else i’ll cry because i spent so much time perfecting it and i’m still doubting my writing skills. goodbye for now (don’t worry, the angst isn’t that sad)!

» disclaimer:  the characters may be based on real-life historical figures but they are not real and are portrayed as needed for plot purposes. although i have done some extra research on the joseon dynasty, i do not have much knowledge on this topic so please excuse any mistakes on the history/events. 

» now playing: i swear i’ll never leave again by keshi

» round the world masterlist please please please check out all the other fics! they are all *chef’s kith* 

You step out into the sunshine, smiling brightly as you inhale deeply. “Doesn’t the air smell different here, too?” you ask, your suitcase trailing behind you. 

Your friend gives you a weird look. “Yeah, pollution,” she remarks sarcastically, sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

Ignoring her, you tilt your head to admire the bustling city of Seoul and the cloudless, vast sky. The pleasant weather felt like the city was welcoming you warmly with open arms.

“I’m so excited to visit all the tourist spots in Korea!” you exclaim, already running through the mental checklist of things you wanted to do.

“I can’t believe you made me come with you,” she begins, glancing at you grumpily. “I’m sure you could’ve survived on your own.”

“I know you’re looking forward to it too and besides there might be some cute boys around here,” you laugh, nudging her playfully in the ribs as you squint, looking around for any building that might resemble the hotel you were supposed to be staying at.

Your friend can’t help but smile at how enthusiastic you are, her mood brightening after a long flight. “Which hotel did you book?” she asks, slowing down her pace to peer at your phone.

“Four Seasons Hotel,” you respond, showing her the map. “I don’t see it though? It should be this street.” you furrow your eyebrows, confused as you try to navigate through the busy crowd of Seoul.

Groaning, she snatches your phone out of your hands, giving you a pointed look. “You’ve never been good with directions.” she chides, examining the map carefully.

Pouting, you don’t reply, turning your gaze to the towering skyscrapers and buildings of the city, the sunlight glinting off of glass, rendering it so blinding that you had to avert your eyes. The streets and sidewalk were busy, bustling with people and cars with their own destination. You take in another deep breath before your face screws up, feeling a cough rise in your throat, hacking when exhaust from the nearest car hits you. 

She was right, it did smell like pollution but there was something about Seoul, the way the city was teeming with life, swarming with both people and vehicles, making it special, different from any other big city. Time seemed to fly fast here, a blink of an eye and hours had already passed but at the same time, it slowed down when you took your time to take in your surroundings, to take a deep breath to ground yourself.

You jolt back into attention when your friend calls your name. “We should’ve made a turn on a street before. I take back my previous statement. You wouldn’t be able to survive here without me.” she grumbled, exasperation written all over her face.

Grinning, you hook your arm through hers, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. “And this is why I love you.” you coo, batting your eyelashes at her.

Shrugging off your arm, she feigns disgust, speeding up her pace so she was well ahead of you. “You can pay me back by treating me to dinner,” she calls, smiling cheekily.

You dash after her, your suitcase bumping wildly on the concrete of the sidewalk.“Wait a minute-” you start to argue with her, trying to negotiate as you know how much she could eat. That girl could eat a whole buffet if she set her mind on it. She just waves you off dismissively, ignoring your pleas as she hums to herself as if you weren’t next to her. 

»»————-　　————-««

Letting out a sigh, you shrug off your bag, flopping on the couch in your hotel room after indulging in delicious Korean cuisine. Staring at the ceiling, you shift into a comfortable position, closing your eyes as you were starting to feel sluggish, your limbs heavy and you had to fight to keep your eyes open. 

The moment you gave into the insistent pull of sleep, you were promptly interrupted by a pillow pelting  your side with a soft thump. Stretching languorously, you sit up, blinking the drowsiness away.

Sitting on the bed across from you, your friend scowls at you. “Don’t we have somewhere to go this evening? I remember you blabbering in my ear the entire time at the restaurant.”

Eyes widening, you sit up, your sleepiness vanishing in a flash. “Right! We’re visiting Gyeongbokgung Palace! It was the main imperial palace of the Joseon Dynasty.”

“You read up on it, huh?” she teases, giving you a cocky smirk.

Gasping, you place a hand on your chest, offended. “I did not! I’m just smart!” you retort. Okay, maybe you did but for the sake of your pride and dignity, a white lie wouldn’t hurt, right? 

“Just admit it, nerd.” she scoffs, jabbing you in the side. She knew you too well, seeing through the lie that only served as a flimsy barrier from the truth. 

Swatting her hand away, you stick your tongue out. “On that topic, we’ll be following a tour guide so we’ll be in a group with other tourists.” you utter, reclining back, your arms behind your head.

“What the hell? Why can’t we just explore on our own? What’s the fun in following a tour guide when we can be adventurous and spontaneous? It’s a vacation for god’s sake.” she complains, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Being too adventurous and spontaneous can result in us getting lost. Besides, it’s not like we know our way around Seoul. We’re just tourists too.” you remind her, rolling on your stomach so you could look her in the eye.

"You just had to go in the evening. If we went in broad daylight, I bet we wouldn't get lost. Who would even go for the nighttime viewing?" she whines, burying her face in the duvet.

“It’s only for an hour or so. Just suck it up. Besides, the palace will look even more stunning at night.” you reassure, rolling your eyes at the dramatic display she was putting on.

“Fine. What time is the tour?” she queried, giving up.

“It’s at 8 pm but we can always arrive early,” you state, smiling triumphantly. “It’ll be a good opportunity to take some photos,” you add, knowing that she loves photography, 

She perks up the moment you mention photos but she swiftly erases her excitement, replacing it with a facade of indifference. “Whatever.” she huffs, turning her back on you as she scrolls through social media.

You scoff, shaking your head,  knowing that you had piqued her interest before standing up, shuffling to the bathroom to start getting ready.

»»————-　　————-««

Passing through the main gate encircling the perimeter of the palace, you slow your pace to admire the architecture. You reach out to cautiously brush your fingertips over the dark crimson doors, marvelling at how gigantic they are. 

You refrain from peeking through the arched entrance as you wanted to see the grandeur of the palace when you arrived at the foot of the steps. Brushing your hand against the rough granite of the foundation, you try to picture the king and royal officials passing through the gate.

For some reason, you were holding your breath as you passed through the archway. Your gaze drifting upwards, your jaw drops at the sight of the palace in front of you as you take in the sheer beauty of it. Although you had seen pictures of the palace online, it barely did it justice as it looked even more majestic in real life.

A wide, paved path leads up to the stairs towards the palace and you notice the elegantly sloped roofs and intricate details with lotus flowers and characters carved into the wood. The use of vibrant green and red draws your eyes and although you would expect the colours to clash, they complement each other, creating a strangely soothing effect.

The evening sky adds to the etherealness of it all, the full moon glowing, shining on the path as a crisp breeze lifts your hair, stirring it into motion. 

Your friend strolls beside you, equally in awe, her eyes sparkling with amazement as she examines the palace. "Where are we waiting for the tourist group?" she questions, both hands gripping tightly on the straps of her backpack.

You suppress a sigh at the scornful tone of her voice, bitterness dripping as she purposefully put emphasis on the two words, “tourist group”. 

“Just at the entrance of the palace,” you reply, leafing through the pamphlet that was handed out amongst the crowd that mingled around the gate. 

There was a map on the back of the brochure and your eyes sparkled as you examined it. It could give you the opportunity to slip away and admire the palace as long as you desired without fearing that you'd get lost.

You and your friend look around for the tour guide, scanning the crowd for any sight of someone who might resemble one. Spotting the tour guide carrying a sign with the name of the company, you nudge your friend before dragging her towards the group. 

Huffing, she hefts her camera, adjusting the strap. You smile giddily to yourself, skipping like a child and you banished all the negative thoughts, allowing yourself to lower your guard, to forget that you were a mere tourist travelling in a foreign city with unknown dangers. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Of course everything had to go completely wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

First, you had bumped into a fellow tourist, causing you to fall gracelessly, landing on your backside, the pamphlet fluttering into a puddle of murky water as you hastily apologized.

To your utter dismay, the ink started to fade, washed away from the water and rendered the map useless. You could hardly interpret it so you didn't bother to pick it up. You ignored your friend's snickering as you accepted her helping hand.

Well, time to say goodbye to your plans to explore on your own. 

As if pushing your luck, you were now lost. You fought down the rising panic and racked your brain, trying to come up with solutions. Even worse, your phone was dead. You swore fate hated you, always wanting to tamper with your plans.

You squeezed through the crowd, aiming for the gaps in between to slip through,  squeaking out an apology when you accidentally step on someone's foot. Squinting, you peer for any sight of your friend as you hold your bag nervously, hands squeezing the strap. 

You stop at the end of the hallway, eyes shifting from the different corridors that open up from the end of it. You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet as you contemplate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

Left or right?

As if answering your question, the corridor to your right glowed brighter underneath the moonlight and you gaped, rubbing at your eyes, convinced that you were seeing things. You blinked a couple of times but it only seemed to make the walls of the corridor brighten, washing the walls in shimmering tones of silver and pewter. Despite your instincts screaming at you to walk down the corridor, you were reluctant, feeling foolish to follow your gut instincts and making a decision based on it when you ought to have analyzed thoroughly. Shrugging, you started down the path, eyes drifting on the walls, reaching out to aimlessly drag your fingers against the wall, rough plaster and concrete scraping against skin as you marvel at how it practically shines underneath the moon. 

Too busy admiring the architecture, you don’t notice the steps a few steps away until your foot comes in contact with space where the floor should’ve been. Eyes widening, you find yourself tripping, letting out a gasp into the silence as you screw your eyes shut.

Red floods your vision as the pain comes. It was worse than any other injury, sharp aches throbbing in your skull as you hit your head against the concrete. You open your eyes, attempting to sit up but stop as your vision starts to swim, black dots invading your vision as your head sways, only intensifying the pain. You hiss, closing your eyes and slowly counting to ten, trying to tamp down the panic and bile that rose in your throat. 

It’s no use, the panic rising and swallowing you whole as you feel your consciousness fading. The last thing you remember is the blurry visage of the corridor brightening, causing you to squint to shield your eyes.

»»————-　　————-««

Regaining consciousness, you sit up quickly, regretting it as your vision swims, blurring everything momentarily. You close your eyes, grimacing when a dull ache throbs in the back of your head. 

Right...you had lost footing and missed several steps, slamming your head on the concrete. You sigh as the memory surfaces and you press your hand against your hand gently, screwing your face up when it feels tender and sore to the touch. 

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with an unfamiliar room. Your brow furrowing, you observe your surroundings with keen eyes.

The room was fashioned from dark oak, with sliding doors made from white paper, sheer enough to see shadows moving from outside, but still providing enough privacy. Candles flickered jovially on the low tables and judging from the absence of natural light, you guessed that it was currently nighttime. Looking down, your eyes travelled the length of the pallet you were sitting on, noting the intricate embroideries curving through it. You reached out and gingerly ran your fingers against it. Judging from the material and the delicate ornamentations, it was probably very expensive. 

“My lady…you’re awake!” 

A rejoiced voice grabs your attention and you turn slowly to meet the owner of it. A girl, around your age kneels at your bed and sets down the bucket of water, dousing a clean cloth in it. You blink in confusion, realizing that she was wearing a hanbok, the traditional clothing of historical Korea. You exhaled softly, tense shoulders relaxing as you inferred that you were in one of the residences near the palace, where you were able to rent a hanbok and experience how ancient Korea used to be. The girl gently wipes the wound on the back of your head before undoing the gauzes, replacing it with new ones. 

“My lady, you mustn’t be so reckless while riding a horse.” she scolds lightly, shaking her head. 

“E-excuse me?” 

You didn’t remember anything about a horse. Momentarily, you wondered why the girl was being so formal with you before your thoughts started to wander. Toning out the girl’s rambling, you stared emptily at the nearest candle, flickering and jumping like it had a life of its own. 

Catching a section of her sentence, you come back to your senses. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Arranged marriage with the eldest son of King Sejong?” she repeats, brow creasing in concern. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“King Sejong?” you laughed hysterically, convinced that you had hit your head so hard that you were seeing and hearing things. “What is this? Joseon Dynasty?”

“Precisely, my lady.” she responded, concern creeping onto her features. 

“You’re awfully good at acting. Hollywood should recruit you.” you mumble, flopping back on the pallet with a groan, eyes tracing the wooden arches and pattern of the ceiling. 

“Hollywood..? I don’t think I understand, my lady.” 

Sighing, you sit back up, eyes heavy with fatigue. You were tired of arguing with her so you decided to play along. “Ok then, where am I right now?” 

“It is 1437 in Joseon, during the reign of King Sejong.”

You scoffed, disbelief written all over your face. “There’s no way.” Regardless, you stumble to your feet, ignoring the girl’s feeble attempt at stopping you. Stopping in front of the window, you eye the wooden shades before unlatching them. 

Expecting the soaring skyscrapers and buildings as well as milling groups of tourists and busy traffic in the streets, your heart almost stops when you see a rustic village, with people leading around horses, resembling nothing of Seoul. Seoul was a city of metal and glass, of advanced technology and modern inventions, yet here, the midnight sky was clear of dust and smoke and you swore you could see every star in the Milky Way.

Stout buildings made up this village, mainly made of wood and brick and the well-trodden dirt path was dimly lit by torches. It was quiet outside, with few people still wandering the streets, you assumed they were all inside, based on the amount of well-lit houses. Gradually, you realized that they were all wearing the traditional garment of historical Korea and although you frantically surveyed the landscape, your eyes scanning every single nook and cranny of the town, everything still remained unfamiliar and foreign.

Leaning forward, you feel the wind whisper its secrets in your ear. “There’s no way.” you whisper to yourself, dragging a hand down your face as you shut your eyes, hoping that this strange world would disappear, replaced by the comforting familiarity of Seoul.

It was not possible to travel back in time...right?

»»————-　　————-««

Numbly, you sit and let Eun-ji, the girl who was apparently your handmaiden, brush your hair. The wooden brush was methodically soothing against your scalp, but did nothing for your frazzled nerves. From listening to Eun-ji, you were Lady (Y/n), supposedly the daughter of a noble family in the Joseon Dynasty, about 6 centuries before your time. 

Blankly, you stare at the wall in front of you. As the only daughter of the family, you were supposed to be married off to a rich man to improve your family’s reputation and financial standing, proving how corrupt society was. 

However, your husband-to-be was the crown prince, which was a rare occurrence. You supposed that you were lucky, but you suspected that the prince was just another posh and spoiled jerk who was accustomed to the leisurely and luxurious ways of life. 

“Say...I can’t avoid the wedding right?” you chirp with false positivity, dislodging the brush from your hair as you turn around to stare at Eun-ji with hopeful eyes.

“A-absolutely not! My lady, this is unavoidable! Your father already agreed and gave out the dowry.” she stuttered, appalled at your question.

“Besides, you’re lucky to marry the crown prince! He’s really handsome, courageous and respectful. I heard a servant girl once fainted after seeing him smile at her.” Eun-ji gossips dreamily, clasping her hands together.

You shook your head. Of course the crown prince would act like that in public. How else would he work his propaganda and trick everyone into supporting him? You drift off, toning out the girl’s wistful fantasizing, anxious over the fact that you had travelled back in time, which shouldn’t be physically possible. With basically no experience or knowledge on the Joseon Dynasty, you doubted you’d be able to survive a second without getting tricked or lured into danger. Tuning back into the one-sided conversation, you manage to catch the last bit of Eun-ji’s sentence. 

“...travelling to the imperial palace tomorrow.”

Travelling to where now? 

“Everyone is so busy preparing tomorrow’s trip. We’re so excited that you’re getting married! And to royalty at that! Don’t worry, my lady, I’ll be accompanying you!” she declares, grinning sunnily at you, either purposely ignoring your apparent concern or she just didn’t notice.

You reluctantly recline back in your seat, shoulders screaming with how tense your muscles were, allowing Eun-ji to continue to brush and detangle your hair, trying to digest all the information your poor brain was just told. You wouldn’t be surprised if a war started next morning, with how bad your luck currently was. 

Closing your eyes, you channel all your strength into resisting the urge to punch a wall and let out a string of curses. Not only was it deemed un-ladylike, possibly earning you the disappointment of your parents, it could potentially draw suspicion and unwanted attention.

All you could do for now was to go along with flow and figure out an escape later, when you had milked all the answers and surprises out of Joseon.

»»————-　　————-««

You throw the windows open, frowning when you are met with the sight of ominous gray clouds gathering. It was as if the heavens themselves knew there was something wrong. You squint, trying to find any hint of the sun hidden behind the clouds, but to your dismay, it was dark and dismal, reflecting your mood. 

You wave away the maid hovering nearby, silently commanding her to give you some personal space. The moment you hear her light steps recede, you slouch, pulling a face. Today was the day you would be entering the palace, and a couple of days later, your marriage into the imperial family. 

You swallow thickly, gripping the material of your night robes nervously. You eyed the distance down from the window, wondering if you could jump down without breaking an ankle and run away from all your problems. Before you could seriously contemplate it, footsteps alert you of another’s presence and you hurriedly straighten your back, pulling your shoulders back into what you hoped was a confident and elegant poise. 

You turn around, meeting the gaze of your supposed mother. Although you felt uneasy addressing her as such, you felt comfort knowing that there was an older figure who could guide you and give advice.

“How are you feeling?” she asks quietly, standing close enough for her arm to brush against yours. You stiffen, making sure to give off an air of confidence. “I am feeling fine. After all, it is my job to bring honour to our family.” you replied, flashing a smile that weakens when she doesn’t return it, instead staring back at you with wise eyes. 

“(Y/n).” 

You tense, before giving a smile so forced, it felt like your lips were stretched too far. “Don’t worry, mother.” The word “mother” felt bitter on your tongue. It felt wrong to address this woman as your mother, even if she had similar qualities to your mom in your time.

The woman hesitated slightly before nodding curtly. “Then, you should start getting prepared.” She turned away, gesturing to the servants who were waiting with countless trays of jewelry and garments as well as combs and cosmetic products. 

Your mother’s trusted lady-in-waiting approaches you, an older woman with graying hair at her temples and lines around her eyes, tilting your chin up, frowning at your eye bags and dark circles. You offer a meek smile when she tsks, barking out orders to the waiting servants. They hustle around you, reminding you of bees buzzing busily around a blooming flower. Several girls work silently on coaxing your hair into an intricate updo while the rest observe your face and prepare the clothes and accessories. 

You sneeze when the lady-in-waiting pats powder on your face, earning another disapproving look. You slouch, letting them do whatever they want. The moment your hair and features are perfectly done, you’re dragged behind a screen as they strip you, folding your night robes neatly as they work to squeeze you into a lovely garment, shimmering silk of vivid amber and vermillion, plain yet exquisite, seen from the expertly sewn hems and edges and the gorgeous material. 

Squeaking, you straighten hurriedly as the lady-in-waiting tugs sharply on the ribbon, tying it into a delicate bow at the back. A mirror is thrust into your face and you hesitate slightly before taking it. Gasping, you peer at your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself, exuding an air of grace and elegance, your hair swept up as your features were flawlessly accentuated and the bold colours of your clothing brought out the life in your eyes and the ruby-red of your lips. You stare at your reflection, not missing the lady-in-waiting’s smug smirk as she dabs rose water on the sides of your neck.

They push you out the doors of your chamber and you stumble unceremoniously before regaining your balance. Outside, your mother awaits you, tears filling her pretty eyes as she takes you in, pride and affection lighting up her face. Stepping forward, she grabs your hands, tears slowly falling down and automatically, you brush them off with feather-light touches. 

“Are you ready?” she whispers, squeezing your hands. Your features soften when you notice the genuine concern in her eyes. You nod, smiling tenderly. Your father approaches you, a heavy hand falling on your shoulder. Although he seems indifferent, you can decipher love and satisfaction in his midnight-black eyes. Awkwardly, he pulls you into an embrace and you choke back a laugh, tears filling your own eyes. Even if they weren’t your parents, past (Y/n) was lucky to have them. 

“Bring honour to our family, (Y/n).” His thunderous voice rumbles through you and you sense the vulnerability in his tone before he pulls away, the proud smile on his face making your heart soar. 

Raising your chin, you match his smile with yours. “I will.”

»»————-　　————-««

You wait in the palanquin, your hands clenching the exquisite silk of your garment anxiously. Hearing giggling, you lift the screen obscuring the small window to your right, peering out into the sunshine.

"Do you think she'll survive in the palace?"

"I know she's not going to. Have you seen her? I bet she can’t even last a few days in the palace without embarrassing herself.” The taller girl sneers, lips curling in contempt.

You watch as the girls titter elegantly behind their fans, your anger simmering as your grasp tightens, knuckles whitening. Lifting your chin proudly, you vow to prove them wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

“Are you not excited to see your bride-to-be, Sangyeon?” 

The crown prince turns to see his brother smirking slyly at him, his gaze implying. “Don’t be immature, Sejo,” he replied rigidly, fixing his gaze on the horizon, jaw tense. 

“I heard she’s quite a pretty thing. I wouldn’t mind having her by my side.” Sejo continues,  inspecting the scenery nonchalantly. 

“Stop referring to her like she’s a plaything. Besides, you know there’s still Hwi-bin.” Sangyeon sighs, not even looking at his brother as he adjusts his robes carefully, palms smoothing over the navy silk and the slight scratchiness of the gold embroidered on it. 

Sejo rolls his eyes at the mention of Hwi-bin. “There are plenty of gorgeous and noblewomen clamouring to be with you, yet you’re still captivated by her.”

“I am not you. I am interested in having a stable and mutually loving relationship. After all, I am not the one going to pleasure houses in Hanseong.” Sangyeon retorts, and although he sounds aggravated, his eyes twinkle with amusement. 

A chuckle escapes from him when he hears Sejo mutter "boring" underneath his breath.

In response, his brother scoffs but a smile plays on his lips. Turning his gaze to observe the scenery, he becomes solemn, the smile disappearing. “You’re going to have to break things off with Hwi-bin, brother.” 

At the change of topic, Sangyeon groans, throwing back his head. "It's not as easy as it sounds." 

"You're going to have to do it, for the future of our country." Sejo reprimanded, uncharacteristically serious, unsettling the prince. 

“Now you’re starting to sound like father,” Sangyeon grumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers. Lately, he hadn’t been able to sleep well, evident by the dark circles under his eyes and his sunken cheeks. The lack of sleep clearly didn’t do wonders for the recurring migraines he had everyday, and all he wanted was to get the marriage over with, if only to stop his parents’ nagging. 

Sejo sighed dramatically, already opening his mouth to yap away but Sangyeon turned away, squinting into the horizon, seeing a palanquin in the distance, the tiny tassels dancing as the platform swayed rhythmically, the family crest held up proudly.

Squaring his shoulders, he inhaled sharply before vaulting himself on the horse, who nickered softly in greeting as the male stroked its nose. “They’re here.”

»»————-　　————-««

Hearing the door slide open, you turn around, seeing Sangyeon in the doorway.

You bow deeply, averting your gaze respectfully. Only when he acknowledges your presence do you straighten, the silk of your hanbok rustling softly. The journey here was nothing remarkable, and although you thought the riches of your home was extravagant enough, the furniture of the imperial palace was outrageously lavish, your home paling in comparison. You inch away from the jade vase you were gaping at previously, terrified of shattering it.

"What are you here for, Your Excellency?" you ask politely, your gaze settling on him.

"My father has commanded me to show you around Hanseong. He hopes for you to see the glory and learn the ways of the imperial city." the crown prince states, his voice void of any emotion as he studies you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

Hesitating, you nod, giving him a tiny smile. "I would love to."

"I shall call for a palanquin then," Sangyeon responds and although he turns away, you can see the flash of distaste on his face. When he steps towards the exit to leave, you call out, causing him to stop.

 What is it, Lady (Y/n)?" he turns around, raising an eyebrow.

You wince at the way he addresses you so formally. Although it served as a form of respect, it felt foreign and it made him feel even more distant.

"Is it alright if we could go by horse?" you dare to ask, anticipating his answer. After suffering through the whole journey to the imperial palace in such a suffocating space, you were determined to never experience it again.

When you notice the blank look on his face, you shake your head quickly. "Pretend I didn't say anything, Your Excellency." you hastily add, lowering your gaze. 

Sangyeon's lips part slightly as he considers. He has to admit; he was pleasantly shocked by your request. Many distinguished ladies such as yourself were quite comfortable inside a palanquin, shielded from the world and its dangers.

He preferred experiencing things first-hand, on the back of a horse, racing through golden fields of wheat and feeling the wind tousle his hair. It provided a sense of freedom before he returned to the restraining imperial palace. Sangyeon hated travelling in a palanquin as it reminded him of his royal status and how it prompted others to treat him differently.

"Of course. We will leave at dusk then," he says stiffly, before proceeding to leave, the dark lacquered floorboards creaking slightly under his footsteps. Raising your head, you watch his figure disappear from your sight, a relieved sigh escaping your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curl into a small smile.

Perhaps you weren't as dreadful as he thought.

»»————-　　————-««

Just as planned, you found Sangyeon waiting with two horses outside the gate, his sharp jawline accentuated by the coral rays of the setting sun. He didn’t notice you, his eyes trained on something you couldn’t see. Slowing your pace, you drag your feet in the soft mud, wondering if it was a mistake to refuse the offer of a palanquin. After all, you weren’t well accustomed with horses. You envisioned yourself falling off the horse mid-journey and shuddered, not eager to have a repeat of an incident. Clenching your jaw in determination, you told yourself that you were doing this to prove to the prince that you were different. Marching towards him briskly, you greeted him with a bow, with which he acknowledged stiffly. 

Sangyeon chuckled softly, seeing you stare doubtfully at the horse, offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. Hoisting you onto your stead, you struggled to regain balance for a few seconds, your heart hammering against your ribs. As if sensing your uncertainty, the horse snorts, tossing its head and you yelp, gripping the reins tightly, only causing the horse to angrily neigh, becoming even more restless.

“Relax, you’re only throwing the horse off.” he utters, seating himself on his stead with an easy air that came with constant practice. 

“I know that.” you shoot back, daring a glance at the prince. Sangyeon seems surprised at first, eyebrows arched in question, then laughing heartily, startling you. It was the first time you had seen him expressing mirth, instead of his usual intimidating stoic expression.

Before you can ride off, a shout is heard from behind you. Turning around in the saddle, you notice a guard dashing towards you, sweat matting his hair. “Your Excellency, you can’t just run off like that. Your Majesty has assigned me to assist you and Lady (Y/n).”

Sangyeon waves him off dismissively. “We don’t need a guard. But if it comes to it, I can protect us both.” At that, he pulls back his robe, revealing a lethal-looking dagger sheathed at his hip.

The guard opens his mouth, attempting to protest but Sangyeon gives him a stern look. “That’s an order.” You watch on quietly as the guard sullenly walks back at the prince’s words. Sangyeon turns his horse back around with a slight tug of the reins. “Let’s get going. It’s ideal to be back before nightfall.” 

You nod, tugging lightly on your reins. “Try to keep up.” he snickers, displaying an uncharacteristically playful and teasing side. You gasp, offended. Sure, you didn’t have much experience with horses, especially compared to him but you were certain you’d be able to pick it up quickly.

 “I am fully capable of keeping up, Your Excellency” you retorted, your pride stinging slightly. 

“We’ll see.” Sangyeon gives you a boyish smirk as he nudges at his horse’s flanks, settling into a steady pace.

»»————-　　————-««

It’s quiet in the forest and you are aware of the tense silence that hangs between you and Sangyeon. Clearing your throat, you start to think of conversation starters, desperate to try and befriend the prince. It would be better to make friends and allies instead of foes. Before you can speak, Sangeon beats you to it. 

“Just so you know, the marriage is tomorrow.”

You gape, clenching the reins so hard, your stead whinnies in protest. Relaxing your grip in apology, you turn to face Sangyeon. “So soon?” 

He nods, clearly dissatisfied. “It’s always best to marry young and my father is convinced it will help establish my power to prevent a coup d'état.”

You don’t respond, your body swaying to the rhythmic trotting of the horse. 

“You might not be aware, but I…” Sangyeon hesitates, struggling to find the correct words. You watch him curiously, waiting patiently for him to continue. 

“I already have a lover.” he continues, “unfortunately, you will not be getting the marriage you dreamed of, Lady (Y/n).”

You secretly celebrate in your mind, glad that the male felt the same way. Being forced into an arranged marriage to establish power and reputation was not something you had thought would happen anytime, yet it had happened anyway. You had miserably hoped that this feeling wasn’t one-sided and it seemed like the gods granted you this wish. 

“First of all, please drop the formalities. Just call me (Y/n).” you instruct, and amused, Sangyeon agrees and requests of you to do the same. If you were to be stuck in a marriage with him, you might as well seek out more information and become good friends. 

“Second, you don’t need to worry. I’m not exactly pleased to be in an arranged marriage, even if it’s with royalty, so I don’t care if you have another lover.” you laugh, and Sangyeon’s worry melts away, replaced by an easy smile.

“Thank god.” he mutters under his breath, clearly relieved. For some reason, you find it hilarious, bursting into uncontrollable laughter which he eventually joins in. With tears in your eyes, you catch your breath before getting thrown into another bout of laughter by his little dance of victory. Calming down, you turn to Sangyeon who was smiling brightly, admiring the way the dying sunlight reflected on his hair and danced in his eyes. He looked lively and carefree, with his rosy cheeks and tousled hair and you were sure you would’ve fallen in love with him if you had met him in your time. Alas, it was the wrong person and wrong time. 

“How about this?” you speak up, and he perks up at your question, eager to please. 

“I think we should be friends.” you beam at him, experiencing the most joy and freedom since arriving in Joseon. Screw arranged marriages, no one should get to decide who you marry and who you don’t! 

Sangyeon tilts his head, pretending to contemplate your offer before nudging his horse in your direction, pulling closer to you. Reaching out, he extends his hand, eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth.

Grinning, you accept it, shaking hands firmly. “Deal.”

»»————-　　————-««

A day later, you sit on the bed, itching to take off all the silk garments that were bound tightly against your body, suffocating you. The marriage flew by in a blur and all you could remember was watching Sangyeon ascend the steps, his regal face solemn and void of any emotion. When his gaze had connected with yours, his lips had quirked up slightly, as if reassuring you that it would be alright, before masked with seriousness once again. 

Shaking your head, laughter bubbles out your throat. Out of all the things you thought would happen in the past, getting married wasn’t anywhere in the list. At least, you could boast that you had gotten married first out of all your friends, although you doubted they would believe you.

Humming softly, you listened to the sound of the night; cicadas and crickets chirping and you could hear the distant sound of a bubbling creek. Nothing like the busy city of present-day Seoul, you mused. While fiddling with your fingers, nature’s melodies lull you into a sense of peace and you sigh softly, too much time on your hands. Then, it struck you. It was the wedding night.

Disgusted, you banished the horrifying thoughts before you looked around for something to defend yourself with, just in case. Silver blades gleam in the candlelight and you catch a glimpse of your scowling face as you reach out to grab the scissors. Although Sangyeon didn’t seem like it, if he tried to take advantage of you, he’d have multiple nasty stab wounds that you hoped to avoid inflicting. 

Speak of the devil.

The doors slide open, revealing Sangyeon, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold air, as well as a few drinks, you suspected. You watch him warily, like a lioness stalking its prey. He shrugs off the ceremonial robes, revealing the plain garment underneath. Finishing, he turns towards you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to sleep like that?” he questions, gesturing to the extravagant wedding hanbok. 

Smoothing over the creases in the silk, you trace the embroidered peonies on the crimson material. You shake your head, wincing when you feel the heavy headpiece shift, yanking at your hair. Although it was gorgeous, the material was restricting and weighted, with a ridiculous amount of layers, hindering your movements. Standing, you silently untie the bow, letting the silk pool around your waist as you work to take off the headpiece and release your hair from its torture. Sangyeon takes it and carefully places it on the table as you fold the ceremonial garment neatly, leaving it next to the ornamental headpiece. 

Standing in your night robe, you and Sangyeon stare at each other, his gaze flicking down to the scissors in your hand and understanding floods his face. When you don’t move, he sits on the pallet before reclining back. “I’m not going to do anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sangyeon says softly, eyes trained on your face. 

When you relax, he grins, the atmosphere becoming more light-hearted. “Do I really seem like that type of person?” he continues, scrunching his nose as he gave you a look of mock hurt that you ignored.

You place down the scissors before gracelessly flopping on the bed, jostling Sangyeon, causing him to yelp. You close your eyes, fatigue overcoming you. “Goodnight” you mumble, yawning widely as you turn on your side, making sure to keep a safe distance. 

When he doesn’t respond, you shift to face him, stifling laughter when you realize that he was already fast asleep, mouth ajar, chest rising and falling steadily. You watch him sleep for a while, his face serene and almost angelic before turning back on your side, closing your eyes. 

Mumbling in his sleep, he throws an arm over your waist and you freeze, before gingerly lifting his arm off, uncomfortable with such displays of physical affection. Closing your eyes, you’re overcome with a sudden nostalgia and longing for your present time and you sigh, praying that you would be able to return before your eyelids droop, slowly drifting off to dreamland. 

»»————-　　————-««

Over several days, you and Sangyeon have gotten to know each other well, thanks to late night conversations and going on adventures to escape the controlling grip of the imperial palace, where you felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a judging glance thrown your way. 

You would be lying if you didn’t find Sangyeon attractive. With his easy smile and the confident aura that he practically radiated, you cursed the gods for not creating such gorgeous men in your time. However, things have changed between you and him. Lately, you had caught him sneaking furtive glances at you and you had to admit that you had been doing the same, although you were sure you were more subtle. 

Last night, you and Sangyeon had laid together in the darkness, limbs tangled in the sheets, but no one made an effort to detangle themself from the material. Tentatively, you tested the waters and leaned against his arm. As expected, he slipped the arm out but to your surprise, he repositioned it around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body. 

“You awake?” 

You had whispered into the quietness of the room and he had hummed in response. In the shadows of the room, you barely saw him shift. “Is something wrong?” He had lowered his voice to match yours, as if sharing a sacred secret. 

You shook your head, but quickly realized he probably couldn’t see you. “I can’t sleep, that’s all.” You had felt his laughter, the vibration rumbling through his chest and travelling down to your bones. “What a coincidence, I can’t either.”

You thought for a while before asking him to tell you more about himself. Although you had spent the days getting to know each other, it was one-sided. Him, nodding and listening intently while you had blabbered about yourself and any entertaining story you could think of, leaving out the important detail about coming from the future. Compiling, Sangyeon had then started telling stories about his childhood and his daily life. 

Delighted, you had curled up in a ball, feeling drowsy as he continued to speak, his soothing voice lulling you to sleep. Sensing your tiredness from your lack of response, he stops abruptly and when you blearily ask him why he stopped, he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to sing the rich melody of an unfamiliar song and your eyes widen momentarily in amazement, before fluttering close. Sangyeon’s voice was mellifluous, warm and honeyed, reminding you of a pleasant spring day, warm sunshine filtering through a canopy of trees while birds sang their individual melodies, yet still harmonizing to create a beautiful orchestration. 

Before you succumb to the enticing pull of sleep, Sangyeon wishes you a good sleep and for a second, your muddled brain ponders if you imagined the feeling of his lips against your forehead.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the door sliding open until footsteps jolt you into attention. Looking up, you lock eyes with Hwi-bin, Sangyeon’s first love. 

Your eyes rove over her features and you can’t help but feel envious. You could tell why Sangyeon loved her so intensely. Big, doe eyes, flawless skin, plush rosebud-like lips and long, silky hair. Hwi-bin was so beautiful that she was practically a goddess and you were convinced that if she was in your time, she’d have all the boys clamouring for her attention. 

As she greeted you, you panicked, opening your mouth as the gears in your head furiously functioned, trying to patch together words. Hwi-bin giggled at your flustered display before grabbing your hands, passion and urgency burning in the deep pools of her eyes.

“My lady, I am here to talk about the crown prince.”

You gulp involuntarily, your mind still a jumbled mess. “L-listen-” 

Before you can piece together your sentence, she interrupts you. “I just want to know if you love him or not. I’ll understand if you say you do, and I promise I won’t interfere with your marriage.”

Frantically, you shake your head. “I don’t love him, I swear.” Jealousy was a poison, dangerous enough to taint the hearts of even the most innocent or kind people. You knew from experience and you hoped Hwi-bin wasn’t like the crazy female characters in kdramas vowing for revenge. 

Noticeably relieved, she lets go of your hands, gratitude shining in her eyes. “I’m glad, then.” Hwi-bin turns away and leaves with an apologetic smile, saying that she was busy, although she regretted not being able to gossip with you. You nod, already staring off in a distance, unfocused, gradually losing yourself in the lucid world of your imagination.

If you had cared to look closely, you would’ve seen the malevolent smirk on Hwi-bin’s face and the dark, vindictive glimmer in her eyes. 

Oh, what a fool.

»»————-　　————-««

As you’re about to pay your respects to the queen, you cross paths with the king’s favourite concubine.  She regards you stonily as you step into a bow, dipping your head respectfully. Although your eyes are fixed on the ground, you can feel her slowly circling you. Uncomfortable, you shift slightly, feeling like prey pinned underneath a predator’s deadly stare. 

“I don’t understand how you got chosen amongst the millions of women practically begging to be the prince’s consort.” she muses, halting in front of you. Her voice was husky and deep like she smoked tobacco every day. Although it wasn’t melodious or lovely, you understood the allure and sensuality of it. 

You flinch when she grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up roughly, her grip bruising as she examines your features. Eun-Ji gasps, opening her mouth to protest but a sharp glance from the concubine silences her. 

“You’re not exceptionally beautiful either, rather average.” she continues, before letting go of your face. “Perhaps it is because your family is rich.” 

Your eye twitches before you school your features into a serene expression, allowing her to continue to direct insults and jabs at you. You knew better than to give her what she wanted.

“Sadly, the prince won’t be giving you much attention. You’ll die alone here. Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.” she feigns a pitiful expression before laughing mockingly, the sound grating and unpleasant. You recoil slightly when she leans in, her face mere inches from yours.

“However, as long as I live, that scoundrel won’t be the successor to the throne and you won’t be there to help aid his ascent to power.” she spits, her voice venomous, a drastic change compared to her relaxed words a few seconds ago. 

“Don’t call him a scoundrel,” you shoot back, resisting the urge to strike her. Yes, you had originally thought he was just a pompous prince who was power-hungry but after spending time with him, you realized that Sangyeon wasn’t truly as bad as you imagined. He was respectful and kind, clearly valuing and putting others before himself. 

The moment the words are out your mouth, you know it’s over for you. Although you could get severely disciplined for talking back, you felt no regret, only sick satisfaction.

Her eyes flash with anger and her hand strikes out, slapping you across the face with so much force you lose your balance, falling on the ground. Eun-Ji cries out, kneeling next to you as she examines you for any injuries.

“That’ll teach you a lesson. Telling me to respect him? Learn your place first.” she hisses, crouching down to your level and wiping her hand on the full skirt of your hanbok, as if there was grime on her hand from touching your face.  “Aren’t you so pathetic? Apologize to me and I’ll think about forgiving you.” she croons, expecting your grovelling. 

You consider for a heartbeat, weighing the two options. “I’d rather die.” you growl, bristling. When her smug expression morphs into something akin to shock, you feel a surge of pride. Although you knew better than to go around provoking other ladies of the court who could bring upon your demise, you did not want to be meek, thrown and played around with, like a toy underneath the lethal claws of a feline. 

“You want to get punished, don’t you?” she utters, livid. “That’s fine, kneel until your precious little prince finds you and saves you, just like the hero you’ve dreamed of.” You bite back the urge to tell her that you didn’t need a man to save you. You were fully capable of saving yourself. You detested being treated as a damsel-in-distress, just waiting for someone to take pity on her. 

“I guarantee he won’t, he will be too infatuated with Hwi-bin to care about you.” she derides, lips curling in a contemptuous smile. 

You open your mouth to refute, but she has already glided away, the silk of her lavish garment rippling underneath the light as her entourage follows her, their heads bowed. You growl in frustration before attempting to get up but Eun-Ji stops you, shaking her head. 

“If you don’t heed her order, you could get thrown into the dungeon,” she whispers frantically, her eyes shifting as she holds on to your wrist tightly. 

You shake your head in disdain. “Are you seriously scared of her?” you ask, trying to pry her fingers off your sleeve, the material of your garment creasing underneath her grip. 

She nods, relaxing her grip. "She has more power than you think she does. She could order your death if she wanted to." 

You bite back the colourful string of curses that you wanted to spew. Surely, that wasn't what a lady of the court would do. So you forced yourself to calm down, taking deep breaths before shifting, raising yourself to kneel. 

Hours pass, the rays of sunlight growing weaker as more and more clouds collect but you refuse to lower your chin, head held high. You don't bother glancing at the servants and nobles who walk past, whispering behind their hands as they eye you. 

Even if humiliation caused the blood to rush to your face and your knees to shake, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of watching you break.

Rain starts to fall, gently at first, nothing but mist before the storm gray clouds roll in and suddenly it pours, pelting against the ground with so much force it causes the small puddles to ripple. You don't brush the raindrops away from your face, allowing them to continue cascading down. You already know your hair and garments are drenched and it sends chills through you. You clench your jaw, gritting your teeth to stop them chattering from the cold.

Where was Sangyeon?

»»————-　　————-««

You wake up, groaning as a panging headache hits you. Struggling, you sit up, eyes widening as you take in your surroundings, recognizing the familiar tapestries hanging on the wall and priceless decor that is placed in the room, lacquered floors shining, not even a hint of dust apparent. You tilted your head to the side, confused. You didn’t remember much from yesterday, except that you had made an enemy with the royal concubine and that she had told you to kneel as punishment for disrespecting her. 

You draw in a sharp breath. That could only mean one thing, right? Sangyeon had found you and safely returned you to your chambers. Which meant….

You shook your head, shaking off the smug triumph like a dog shaking off water. Still, you had to know it, had to hear it for yourself. 

Propping yourself up, you call for your lady-in-waiting. Eun-ji rushes to your aid, carrying a basin of water and a towel. With the speed of her pace, the water splashes against the sides of the basin, threatening to spill. 

She presses a hand against your forehead, concern creasing her brow when she feels the heat that practically radiates off of it. You smile when Eun-ji places the damp cloth on, your heart warming at how caring and considerate she is. 

"Why are you smiling, my lady?"

You recline on the propped cushions, eyes closed. "It's nothing. What happened?"

Eun-ji hesitates slightly before speaking up. “The queen came across your unconscious figure and ordered me to bring you home. She promised that she’d lift off the punishment that the concubine gave you.”

You turn, so quickly your head starts to spin and you feel faint. Groaning, you close your eyes for a heartbeat, focusing on your steady breathing and the warmth of her hands pushing your damp hair off your face. 

Footsteps hammer against the wooden floors and you twist around to peer at the door. Your heart soars when you see Sangyeon in the doorway, face flushed and breath strained as he pants, attempting to catch his breath. Despite his disordered appearance, he was handsome as always, dark, cocoa brown eyes sparkling in the sunshine, causing him to glow, features perfectly lit in the warm golden light. 

He stumbles towards you and Eun-ji quietly leaves as he catches your face with both hands, the heat of them seeping into your skin as he examines your face for any hint of injury or discomfort. Frowning, he speaks as he inspects the faint red on your check. 

“I heard what happened and I came as quickly as I could-”

"You were with her, weren't you?" you interrupt, voice quiet but it sounds loud to your ringing ears, echoing in the otherwise silent room. 

Sangyeon hesitates, clearly reluctant. "Answer me." you snap and you're in awe of your own boldness. An attitude like this could doom you, as seen with the incident that happened only a couple of hours ago. 

You figured you had nothing to lose, anyways. 

"...Yes." 

You sigh, dropping yourself right back on the futon, hair messily splayed out. You didn’t dare admit that it bothered you more than you’d like. After all, you were the one married to Sangyeon. Not Hwi-bin, not someone else, but you.  Not to mention he was awfully handsome and charming, confident, sweet and--

You broke off the train of thoughts, directing your focus somewhere else. You rubbed your temples, feeling an oncoming migraine and you furiously willed it to go away. "Listen Sangyeon," you began, meeting the gaze of the male next to you. 

"If you want to convince everyone that we're madly in love, you're going to have to act like it."

At your statement, Sangyeon tilts his head like a lost puppy. “What do you mean?”

For a crown prince who supposedly was a high-class scholar, excelling in both studies and skills, he could be so dim. You suppress the sigh that threatened to escape, instead meeting his gaze squarely to try and prove your point. “They can’t know we’re not in love, you idiot. The queen recently told me she was looking forward to becoming a grandmother, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed, shaking your fists in exasperation, trying to emphasize your point and get it through his thick skull. 

Sangyeon looked absolutely horrified, mouth hanging open, and you almost laughed at how comical his face looked before your heart dropped. Was it that terrifying to be in a marriage with you? You conceal your hurt, instead sitting up, the duvet pooling around your waist. You struggle with the silk, frowning at how restraining the material was. 

Shaking his head, he lifts his hands to grip your shoulders, ceasing your movements. You stall, heat blossoming in your face at how close he is. Sangyeon’s face is close to yours and you can feel every breath he takes. Turning away, you try to distract yourself from his lips, merely inches from yours and the way his breath tickled your cheek. Your mind was shrieking like a crushing schoolgirl about to have her first kiss and you divert your attention elsewhere, ashamed of your bold thoughts.

“Is it that bad, being in an arranged marriage with me?” you tease weakly, loosening his grip on your shoulders as you clear your throat, bumping your shoulder against his playfully, trying to lighten the serious mood.

Suddenly, Sangyeon avoids your eyes, cheeks reddening. “It really isn’t.” he whispers, puffing his cheeks out. “It’s not what you think.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I care more than you think.” Sangyeon admits, and immediately buries his face into his hands, already dreading his decision to tell you. You stared at him, stunned. Was this...a confession? When you stay silent, he peeks through his fingers, only to be met with your face, centimeters from his. Eyes widening almost comically, he tries to shy away but you lean in closer to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Sangyeon’s blush deepens and he instantly interprets your hidden message in the display of affection. 

Silence ensues, but it’s not awkward, rather the opposite. Hesitantly, he picks up your hand and plays with your fingers, gaze dropping bashfully to his lap. The room seems to brighten, becoming more colourful and vivid. Pale and washed-out colours of misery and despair are replaced by the spirited and vigorous colours of yellow irises and peach blossoms. 

Suddenly, Sangyeon pulls you, mindful of your feverish body, but with enough force so that you land in his lap. Laughing, you prop your chin on his shoulder and run your hands through his hair as his arms snake around your waist, snuggling into the crook of your neck. 

“What about Hwi-bin?” you ask timidly and your question seems to partially dissipate the whimsical mood. Pulling away, Sangyeon considers your question as he twirls a lock of your hair around his finger. 

“I’ll have to tell her.” he says firmly, “It’s not right to keep this from her. But our relationship is technically public because we are married.” With his last statement, he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you shove him away playfully, pulling a disgusted face. 

“You’re making me regret reciprocating your feelings.” 

Sangyeon gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest. “How could you say that?” 

He lunges forward, capturing you in his arms as he tries to tickle you but you block him with your hands, grappling for control until you finally latch onto his wrists, obstructing his movements. Sangyeon presses his forehead against yours before frowning, pulling back. 

“You’re feverish, (Y/n).” he tells you gently, turning to grab the abandoned cloth that had fallen off, submerging it in the cool water before placing it back on your forehead. You’re about to make a snarky remark but Sangyeon shushes you, your smirk disappearing, replaced with a pout.

“I’ve got paperwork to do so I’ll leave you to rest. Get better, (Y/n).” 

You nod, closing your eyes, a smile settling on your lips as you listen to his soft footsteps recede into the distance and when you sink into sleep, not even one nightmare plagues it.

 »»————-　　————-««

Laughter fills the shadows of the forest as you dart away from Sangyeon’s reach, sticking your tongue out childishly. “Try and catch me!” you call, nothing but adrenaline and joy running through your veins, fueling you to feel foolishly carefree, like you were drunk on the finest alcohol. Running away, you spread your arms out like the wings of an eagle, tilting your head back, enjoying the feeling of the wind caressing your face. 

Your eyes widen when you notice something white from a distance. You fall prey to your curiosity as you meander along, picking your way carefully amongst the fallen leaves and large roots of ancient trees that snake through the dirt of the forest floor. 

Heart pounding, you reach the mysterious object, inhaling sharply when you realize that it’s a lovely young woman asleep on the floor, gossamer robes covering her frame. Shaking her shoulder, you attempt to rouse her, eyes roving over her face and body to search for telltale signs of injury. Noticing none, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Turning away, you attempt to call out to Sangyeon, but a hand slaps over your mouth, muffling your cry.

Turning around, you realize the woman is awake and fear strikes you when you note the glimmer of menace in her black, pitless eyes. “(Y/n) (L/n),” she begins, and as she speaks, her robes shift, revealing nine tails, pure as snow. Her hand lifts off your mouth but her eyes tell you that if you were to scream she wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence. 

Briefly, you remember the tale of the nine-tailed fox before terror erases it, all reason leaving you in an instant. You couldn’t tell if the woman was trying to give you a friendly greeting or if she’d pull a knife on you in a heartbeat. “H-have we met?” you stammer, laughing nervously to mask your fear. You struggle against her iron grip but your strength is no match for her overpowering one. 

“You come from the future, yes? You are looking for a way to return back to your time and I believe I can aid you with that.” she continues calmly, and you go limp, struggling to find the right words. 

How did she know?

“How I know is none of your business.” she adds sharply, as if she could read your mind. “However...I can tell you how to get back to your time.”

“In exchange for what?” you question warily, finally finding your voice. Staying in Joseon,, you knew better than to accept someone’s offer without finding out what price you had to pay. 

Throwing back her head, the woman lets out a laugh that echoes sharply and you survey your surroundings cautiously to try and detect any lingering eavesdroppers. “Smart girl,” The nine-tailed fox leans back with a smug smile, arms crossed over her chest. “Quite fortunate for you, I demand no price. Whether you accept or not, you must leave as you are interfering with the history of Joseon.” 

“Listen closely, for you won’t have another chance.” says the nine-tailed fox, her voice dropping to a whisper, forcing you to lean in closer, straining to hear her.

“Exactly a week later, the planets will align, creating a rare phenomenon and a celestial light will appear, creating an opening where you can escape back to your time. You may have experienced this when you accidentally travelled here.”

You nod, everything slowly connecting and making sense. The corridor in the palace had glowed brighter and you predicted that it was the same celestial light that had allowed you to travel back in time. “How are you sure this will work?” you ask, doubtful.

The woman seems taken aback by your question, then offended. “You have to trust me. It’s your only chance and it is a rare occurrence so it will only happen many centuries later. I doubt a mere mortal like you could live that long.” At that, she barks a laugh before sobering, suddenly grasping your hands with her cold ones.

“You were wrong to fall in love. Joseon does not need you here. You must break ties with your prince and leave before you alter the history, ultimately changing the way your world works as well.” she states, urgency dripping from her voice as she stares into your eyes, any sign of the previous mockery and mirth gone. 

You incline your head in understanding. “I understand,” you breathe. “Although...where am I supposed to find this celestial light?”

Suddenly, the sound of fallen leaves crunching alert you of another presence and the woman whips her head in the direction, eyes narrowing. “Look for an open space. The best area would be the bridge that passes over the river.”

“(Y/n)?” 

You startle, recognizing Sangyeon’s voice. Discerning the worry in his voice, you try to pull away from the nine-tailed fox but she tugs on your hands. “Good luck. Your fate is in your hands. No one can change it but you.” 

She disappears, leaving you dazed, kneeling on the ground amidst the autumn leaves. You pick up the closest leaf, staring numbly at the vibrant scarlet colour as you try to decipher the information. Hearing Sangyeon call your name again, you respond, listening to his footsteps gradually increasing in volume.

Scooping you up into his embrace, Sangyeon buries his face into the crook of your face, inhaling your scent. “Where were you? You scared me.” he whines, uncharacteristically pouty.

You laugh shakily, reaching up to squeeze his face, pulling at his cheeks. “Sorry. I got distracted by a fox.” You felt bad lying to him but at least you were technically telling the truth. You did see a fox...just not the type Sangyeon would expect.

“Let’s get out of the forest. It’s starting to get dark.” he answers, not even noticing your lie, despite how your voice trembled. Sangyeon tore his gaze away from you, eyeing the forest. The sun was almost completely set, mist creeping into the forest as a chill descended, creating an eerie atmosphere. You couldn’t help but jump several times when you noticed a shadow slinking near you, shaken from the encounter with the peculiar woman. 

Hiking out of the forest, you huffed, swiping at the sweat that collected on your forehead. It was already evening, the stars and moon already coming out of hiding, shining brightly on you and Sangyeon, your hand clasped tightly in his and you couldn’t help but chuckle amusedly. It was like he was afraid of losing sight of you. Struggling slightly, you shake off his hand, ignoring his protests. 

Trudging to the meadow, you plop down on the grass, stretching your legs out as you sighed in relief, tilting your head back to gaze lazily at the sky.

Patting the space next to you, you beamed at Sangyeon, whose eyes crinkled endearingly as he reciprocated it before settling down in the grass next to you. Absentmindedly, you hum, running your fingers through the blades of grass, raindrops collecting on your fingertips. 

Your thoughts drift away to the encounter with the nine-tailed fox but you push them away, choosing to instead savour the few moments you had alone with Sangyeon. You lower yourself until you’re lying in the grass, lifting a hand to study the stars, silhouetted against the dark night sky and you marvel at how clear it is compared to the sky in your present time, swirls of midnight and navy blue embellished with bands of gold and silver stars that twinkle mysteriously down at you, nothing shielding its pure beauty. 

Fabric rustles as Sangyeon does the same, lying next to you. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body and it lulls you into a sense of safety. Turning your head slightly, you admire him, eyes roving over his sharp features shamelessly, memorizing every slant and curve, tucking it away in your memories. Shifting onto your side, you let your hand reach out, finger gently running along the bridge of his nose before gently tapping it twice. Sangyeon’s lips twitch as he fights back a smile but his eyes flutter close as his hand snaps out to grasp your wrist, lowering it as he brings it to his mouth, softly kissing it before letting go. 

It feels bittersweet, knowing that you had fallen in love with Sangyeon. It was the right person, but the wrong time. Although you didn’t believe in destiny, it felt like you and him were destined to meet, to provide a paradise for the both of you, even if it didn’t last for long.

What was the word again? 

Ephemeral. 

Your relationship with him was ephemeral. Fleeting, short-lived. Something that would last for a short time before you left for good. You closed your eyes as a weight crushed your chest, the reminder that you would leave him behind to a world where things seemed more complicated, especially not with Sangyeon by your side. 

“You alright?”

His soft yet deep voice rouses you out of your thoughts and you can’t help but shudder slightly at how sensuous it sounds. You nod, not trusting yourself enough to form words without stuttering or blurting out something embarrassing. He twists to face you and your palm instinctively moves to cup his face, running feather-light fingertips along his jawline, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Sangyeon’s eyes flutter close at your touch and his lips curve before he turns to press another kiss to your palm, nuzzling his nose into your hand before he allows you to continue to cradle his face. He exhales shakily. Never in his life has Sangyeon ever felt so free and his heart has never felt so full for someone. Time seemed to stop as you lay on the grass, eyes tracing over the constellations, sparkling like they approved. 

In this moment, titles and responsibilities were stripped away, leaving only vulnerability and fragility behind. Sangyeon wasn’t a crown prince and you weren’t from the future, five hundred years later. In this moment, he was just a normal boy and you were just a girl, exposing yourselves to a beautiful blooming love and throwing yourself recklessly into its embrace. Everything felt magical and just right.

»»————-　　————-««

You blink at Hwi-bin. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t know! You were flirting with Prince Sejo right in public, without shame! How could you? You are married to Prince Sangyeon, the crown prince!” 

You winced at her shrill voice grating on your senses. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.” you repeat calmly, holding up your hands to try and placate her. You had originally thought Hwi-bin was a sweet girl who wouldn’t swear vengeance but it seemed like your first impression of others was generally incorrect as she was less of a princess, now more like the envious lady in every fairytale who tried to plot the doom of the protagonist.

She huffed, whirling around to face the royal concubine. “My lady, you witnessed it as well!”

The female smirks, leaning forward, her finger tracing over the rim of the porcelain cup in her hand. “How shameful, a noble lady of the court, already married to the crown prince she still flirts and seduces another prince.”

You glare at her, not even trying to mask your hatred for her. “I was simply having a civil conversation with Prince Sejo, my lady. Do I not have the right to speak to other males besides the crown prince?”

“Oh you do.” drawled the concubine, dragging out the words as she stretched out languorously on her seat while you knelt at her feet. “However…” 

She leaned forward, a malicious grin surfacing, reminding you of a hungry hyena ready to attack unexpecting prey. “Romancing another man while you are married to another is punishable by death.”

You crossed your arms, defiant. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh? We’ll have to see what the crown prince says about this.” she laughed and dread formed in your stomach at the sinister tone in her voice. As if on cue, Sangyeon enters, hands folded behind his back.

Hope rises, like doves that fly when the sun rises. A radiant smile spreads on your face, only to be diminished quickly, like a blown out candle. Sangyeon’s face was unreadable, his dark eyes stormy and calculating as he beheld you. You go rigid as he doesn’t acknowledge you, instead turning to lower his head and say something to the concubine. 

He twirls the dagger in his hand, examining it idly, not even bothering to look at you. “Is what she says true?” he asks, finally acknowledging you as he stares at you with pitless, emotionless eyes. You could hardly recognize the man in front of you. Where was the gentle and sweet Sangyeon you had spent all your days with?

You shake your head frantically, trying to calmly reason with him. “Sangyeon, you know I would never do this.” 

“Really?” Sangyeon lifts a brow. “There were people witnessing you trying to seduce my brother and convince him to elope with you, though.”

Heart leaping into your throat, dread forms in your stomach. Everything was going terribly wrong. He was supposed to believe you but he seemed to have morphed into an entirely different person overnight. Sangyeon looked down at you in disdain, as if you were something that was merely wasting his precious time. The captivating feelings of love that had blossomed were now wilting before your very eyes, smooth ruby petals falling, falling and falling, till they reached the ground, shriveled and black like the ugly hatred gathering in your heart. 

The royal concubine spoke up, leaning forward. “What should we do with her, Your Excellency?”

“You can do whatever you want with her.” Sangyeon turned to look you straight in the eyes. “I never loved her anyway. She was just a toy, a mere plaything to me.”

It was the apathetic tone of his words that finally broke you. Saccharine eyes that once beheld you like you were his entire world, now harsh and bitter as they stared at you piercingly, stripping you of your dignity and strength, leaving you vulnerable. Like a dam barely holding up under the sheer pressure of the river, it broke, and all your emotions came pouring in. 

You stare at Sangyeon in shock, betrayal evident on your face. “Please tell me this isn't true. Sangyeon...please!” you beg, tears filling your eyes as your bottom lip quivers. “You love me right? You know I wouldn’t ever do this!” 

You felt pathetic and unwanted, kneeling at their feet as they looked on, clearly uninterested. Yet you were still in denial, hoping that Sangyeon would come to his senses miraculously and help you out of this mess. 

To your horror, he stares at you challengingly before pressing a kiss against Hwi-bin’s lips,  mirrored smirks on both their faces as Sangyeon turns to face you, without breaking eye contact. “Is that enough proof? Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

You lowered your head, vision blurring as you stared at the floor, tears cascading down your face and dripping onto the floorboards, creating a small puddle of sorrow and anguish, nothing compared to your fragile heart, shattered and left on display for all to see.  

The royal concubine cackles, adding to your humiliation and shame, burning bright on your cheeks. “I told you the crown prince would always choose Hwi-bin over you.” she crows triumphantly. “Guards, take her away to the dungeon. I’m sick of her dramatic display.”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you look up, tears falling freely, shining like crystals as you desperately try to seek out Sangyeon, but he’s already turned away, walking away with Hwi-bin by his side. Sangyeon looks at her lovingly, like she’s the only person that matters and your heart crumbles, knowing that he once looked at you like that too. Slumping, you let the guards roughly pull you to your feet, your head lolling to the side in defeat as they drag you towards your awaited fate.

»»————-　　————-««

You sat in the cell, legs tucked neatly underneath you, the rich material of your hanbok soiled beyond repair but you paid it no heed, eyes fixed on the iron bars that separated you from the rest of the castle. Your legs were aching from being pressed into the firm and coarse floor, the thin layer of filthy hay doing nothing to soften it. A chipped bowl of rice and water sat in front of you but it was untouched. 

Hearing footsteps echo on the stone of the floors, you straighten, chin raised in defiance. Did the royal concubine come to taunt you? Hwi-bin? Or was it time for torture? 

You blanch when you realize who's standing in front of you. The crown prince himself. For several heartbeats you stare at him, nothing but betrayal and sorrow on your features before they harden into a cold mask, your eyes betraying nothing. 

Seconds pass, bleeding into minutes. You grit your teeth, feeling like several agonizing hours had passed while Sangyeon stood there, merely observing you. Feeling the need to break the ice that was thickening between you, you opened your mouth. 

“Did you even care about me? Am I just a pawn to be used?” you asked, your voice oddly quiet as you stared at him with a terrifying calmness, like the calm before a great storm. Sangyeon watched you, his expression inscrutable as he clasped his hands behind his back. Your breath hitches as you remember the royal consort’s words.

“Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.”

You could almost hear her cackle, echoing in your head as if she already knew the result. “Have you ever seen me… as more than something to take advantage of?” you continue when he doesn’t respond and you finally break, the wall you had constructed finally cracking, nothing but remnants of it left. You dig your fingers into your palm, a familiar prickling sensation in your eyes as tears start to swell, your bottom lip quivering.

His words from yesterday resurface. “Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

Sangyeon still doesn’t say anything, his indifferent expression infuriating you. You felt like you were fighting a one-sided battle, as if you were struggling against the strong waves of the ocean that tugged insistently at you, dunking you under over and over again. 

"I was so naive...I thought I'd be able to compete with Hwi-bin but we were never on the same level, to begin with. She was your first, first love, first kiss, first everything. You prioritize her over me because she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Every single time, you'll continue to return back to her.” you laugh bitterly, fingers digging into your scalp, tugging roughly at the unbound strands of your hair. 

The image of love, of romance, was different now. Your relationship with him had started off shakily and although insecurity and doubt swallowed you, you let yourself look ahead, fix your eyes on the light that had appeared at the seemingly never-ending tunnel. It was hope. 

Love...could be compared to a rose in full bloom, lovely with its soft and vermilion petals swaying gently in the wind, carrying over its fragrant and enticing scent, luring you closer until your hands reached out to cup it in your hands, under the charm of its seemingly harmless beauty. The longer you allow yourself to fall underneath its charm, lingering feelings turned into tentative and fleeting kisses, then tangled in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings as the moon continues its steady climb in the sky. 

Now that it’s in your possession, you become greedy, wanting more. Your hands slide to its stem, maneuvering it so you can pick it. You’re so captivated that you don’t notice the thorns that gleam menacingly underneath the sunlight until it’s too late, the tender skin of your fingertips breaking as they sink into it, rivulets of scarlet blood cascading down. 

The spell crumbling, you regain your senses and you’re aware of the stinging pain of the wound, You snatch your hand away but the damage is already done. There are two choices: attempt to pick the rose again and let yourself succumb to the pain, numbing your senses as blood continues to trickle or discard it and let yourself heal. 

You had chosen the latter. Entering the imperial palace, you had firmly told yourself to not fall for love’s traps and tricks but here you were, like some kind of lovestruck fool, vying for Sangyeon’s affection. It was time to shut him out, deny him any entrance to your heart and instead, focus on getting back to your true home, five hundred years later. 

Immersed in your brooding thoughts, you don’t notice Sangyeon moving closer to you, the dirty hay shifting underneath his feet. “(Y/n).” he breathes and at the sound of his voice, your heart aches, longing to be in his arms, to be able to feel the smooth skin of his face beneath your palms. You glare at him, backing up to place more distance in between you, pushing the wistful thoughts away. They were like poison, able to muddy your thoughts and cause you to act differently. 

Despite your retreat and clear unwillingness, Sangyeon continues to advance until your back hits the rough and grimy wall of the prison cell. Before you can open your mouth to unleash the lengthy counter that you’ve been holding in, his lips are on yours. Involuntarily, you inhale sharply, a gasp that sounded noisy within the hushed cell, the sound swallowed by his mouth as your fingers instantly tangle themselves in his hair. The familiarity of his soft lips on yours causes electricity to tingle through your entire body and you felt euphoric like you were on cloud nine. 

Your hands fall to the side as Sangyeon presses you roughly against the wall, one hand supporting himself as he deepens the kiss, causing you to feel dizzy. Your knees weaken, turning into jelly as he nips at your lip, teasing it with a graze of his teeth. His free hand finds yours, clasping yours in his with a gentleness that contrasts with the unrelenting pressure of his mouth on yours. 

The kiss is searing, it burns away your worries and problems for the time being, the passion racing through your veins like a fire swallowing a forest. It melts away the ice freezing your heart and you let yourself submit to it and lay yourself bare, becoming vulnerable. 

You swear you feel Sangyeon pass something to you, the cool metal biting into the heated palm of your hand but all thoughts are gone as he parts, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your unoccupied hand curls into a fist and you know you shouldn't let yourself get carried away. 

After all, Sangyeon was the rose, he was dangerously charming, drawing you so close that your head spun, lessening your chances of returning back to your rightful home. 

Keeping the advice the nine-tailed fox told you in mind, your hand raises to press against his chest, firmly pushing him away and effectively dislodging his lips from yours. 

Sangyeon eyes you, your lips no doubt matching the swollen state of his. He leans in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. 

"Tomorrow at dawn, at the back gates." he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. Your eyes open and they flash with anger as your hand connects with his face and you ignore the stinging of your palm as you withdraw it. 

"Don't tell me what to do." you seethe, gaze locking with his. You glimpse the pink blossoming on the side of Sangyeon's face and you almost feel guilty but you remind yourself that this was all his fault. You had your own plans and you were not going to fail. 

Sangyeon has the audacity to smirk at you as his hand lifts to touch his cheek, eyes dark with desire but they soften when he notices how your hands clench, knuckles whitening. 

You don't look up but you can feel Sangyeon's lingering gaze. He turns on his heel and leaves, bringing the warmth with him, the cell turning back into a bleak gray. Although he's gone, you can still feel his presence.

You move to press the heels of your hands against your brow but the clang of something hitting the ground startles you. Whirling, you peer at the floor and amidst the hay, something gold winking up at you. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around it. A key…? Your eyes widen as you remember Sangyeon pressing something into your palm, flushing when you also remember how...preoccupied you were. 

You savour the feeling of the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of your skin as you play with it, your mind racing and calculating. The nine-tailed fox had told you that tomorrow at midnight, all eight major planets in the Solar System would align, which was a rare occurrence that would allow you to travel back to your time. 

During your short time here, you had already taken note of when the guards would rotate into different shifts. That would give you the time to escape to the bridge but with none to spare. If something went wrong...you shook your head. Now was not the time to dwell on if you would fail or not. Lifting your head, you stared at the crescent moon outside of the narrow gap in the wall that served as a window, watching the clouds drift by, blocking the moonlight momentarily.

You could only bide your time and wait.

You called sweetly out to the guard outside your cell, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to request paper and ink. For now, you’ll write a letter to say goodbye to Sangyeon. You felt hollow, dreading the final goodbye but it was inevitable. He belonged here and you belonged in your own time. 

»»————-　　————-««

You didn’t remember much of the next day. After sealing the letter to Sangyeon, you had somehow gotten the guard to cooperate and deliver it to him. All you could do was wait, legs cramping from kneeling on the floor the entire time. You hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep and you felt exhausted, but you were determined to not let the golden opportunity slip from your grasp.

You had spent the day watching the rotations of guards and you noted that the rotation was the same, as if you weren’t worth guarding. You scoff, scorn burning in your veins. You’d show them by escaping. They might have expected a meek girl who couldn’t do anything but merely watch with tears in her eyes and wait for her shining knight in armour to save her but you didn’t need a saviour. You would create your chance and leave this wretched place. 

The sound of heavy footsteps startling you, you recognize the familiar jangling of the keyring paired with off-key whistling, presumably from the nightguard. Shifting, you grip the brick in your hand. You had pried the loose brick from the wall, in hopes of wielding it as a weapon if you got caught. Drops of sweat slither down the back of your neck as you listen to the sound of footsteps recede as the guard hummed merrily, clearly in a good mood after finishing his shift. Knowing you didn’t have time to spare, you rummaged through the make-shift pouch for the key of the cell. Although you hated to ruin such beautiful silk, the long material hindered your movements and you had no choice but to tear it off, exposing your calves and providing freedom of movement. 

Heart pounding, you find the key, almost dropping it due to your clammy hands. Holding it between your clammy fingers, you allow a second to collect yourself before advancing to the door, reaching through the bars. Straining, you miss the keyhole a couple of times before it slips in. Twisting it, your ears perk up when you hear the click and it unlocks, swinging open with a creak. Venturing out, you pause, listening for any footsteps. 

Hearing none, you pad quietly out before settling into a sprint, making sure to tread lightly to avoid unwanted noise. Pressing against a wall, you hold your breath as you wait for the guard pass, narrowly escaping. It wouldn’t be long until someone noticed the cell was empty. The moment he’s gone, you peel yourself away, and dart into the woods, hurrying towards the bridge. 

You slow your pace the moment the bridge comes into sight, the river serene and calm as it winds through the countryside, moonlight causing the water to sparkle. Taking a moment to survey the surroundings for any unwanted intruders, you exhale heavily. Finally, you were only a step away from achieving your heart’s desire: returning to your rightful time. 

Yet…..why did your heart feel so heavy? 

Your brain and heart were in turmoil, disagreeing with what each had to say. While your brain argued that it was only correct to return, your heart begged tearfully to stay and you knew exactly what, no who, was still tying you to this wretched place, with its malicious dangers and traps disguised as sunshine and freedom: Sangyeon.

How many times had your heart leapt at the sight of him? At the mere sound of his name, of his voice? Despite his betrayal and change of heart, you still loved him and you held onto the tiny shred of hope, like the light at the end of a pitch-black tunnel, that he still loved you as well. After all, Sangyeon had presented you the opportunity to escape by giving you the key. 

You shook your head, clearing the treacherous thoughts that threatened to take over your logic. No, whether your heart agreed or not, whether you would eventually regret it or not, you had to return home. You shuddered, imagining spending another day in Joseon, without your family or any of your friends. 

Advancing towards the bridge, you watch your flickering shadow pass on the wooden planks, the wood creaking slightly in protest under your weight. Leaning on the railing, you gazed at the lone fish darting underneath lily pads, its scales silver underneath the moonlight. Raising your head, you squinted at the sky. As if in response, it glowed brighter and you watched, astounded, as the clouds broke apart and light shone through, like an angel was descending to Earth. 

It shined down upon you, and you basked in it, your eyes barely open due to the sheer glare of the light, joy flooded your face as you rejoiced, as you awaited your return. Looking down, you gasped when you realized that you were slowly disappearing, your hands shimmering ghostly and when you tried to grip the railing of the bridge, your hands passed through. You guessed it meant that the nine-tailed fox was correct, and that it would effectively bring you back to the future.

Pounding footsteps alert you of another presence and you whirl around, the strands of your hair dancing wildly in the breeze. Your eyes meet Sangyeon’s and your heart plummets, raising your hands shakily to keep him away from the light. You couldn’t risk him altering history and travelling to the future with you, even if it sounded tempting.

 “What are you doing here?” you shout, panic rising, shaking your head repeatedly as he tries to take a step closer. 

“Your letter.” Sangyeon stated simply, voice trembling, full of emotion, of denial, fear and sorrow, as his eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. A letter is clenched in his fist, familiar handwriting scrawled hastily on the faded surface.

“You’re joking right? From the future? You can’t be serious…” he whispers, hope ablaze in his eyes as he stops in his tracks, and your heart cries out, singing for him, for his touch, for his warmth to surround you once again. 

You don’t respond, gazing at him solemnly and the hope fades, like the final rays of the sun before twilight takes over. Sangyeon’s shoulders sag, defeated. “This is goodbye then?”  

“You know, I always thought you were acting weird. The (Y/n) I knew was haughty, snobbish and power-hungry but you were nothing like what the rumours said. At this point, I’m not even surprised you’re from the future.” he laughs bitterly, running his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he starts pacing in tight circles, distraught. 

Glancing down at your body, you notice that you’re almost transparent, the light erasing you from this world that you were never supposed to even be in. “Sangyeon.” you call, ceasing his pacing as you beckon for him, longing to hold his face in your hands and take in his breathtaking beauty, shining so brightly that you were positive you would never forget, even when you were wrinkled and gray from age. 

“I love you.” you tell him sincerely, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks but they pass through, and Sangyeon’s eyes widen in alarm when you start fading. 

“Wait!” he screams, lunging towards you to hold you, to do anything to stop you from leaving, but you’re already disappearing, your face blurring as you smile at him, fighting back tears. Just as suddenly as it appears, the odd light disappears back into the clouds, like it was never there. Sangyeon expects you to still be standing there, to embrace him and grace him with that lovely smile but you’re gone. Sangyeon is left by himself, standing still on the bridge, the wind tousling his hair, each strand dancing individually as he slumps, heartbroken.

Suddenly, it was like the world was drained of its colours. The sky was no longer a hopeful image of promising love and dreams, instead a mocking gray filled with dull stars that didn’t sparkle as brightly like they did when he saw them with you. Collapsing on the bridge, he cries, tears falling freely as he hugs himself, chest heaving as he tries to breathe steadily, his whole body racking with the painful sobs that threaten to rip him apart, broken apologies and pleas falling from his trembling lips.

“I love you too.” 

He repeats the phrase over and over again, as if it alone, would bring you back to his side and fill the emptiness in his heart. 

This was never supposed to happen. 

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n). (Y/n!)”

Distantly, you hear a faraway voice, desperate and fearful, calling out to you. Regaining consciousness, your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar surroundings. Recognizing the corridor, you sigh, relieved. Turning your head, you notice your friend, kneeling at your side. 

“Are you alright?” she gasps, lifting your head gently to check for any wounds. When she finds none, she smiles faintly, glad, before her gaze travels down to examine your face. “Have you been crying?” she questions, bewildered.

Your eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, cheeks blotchy and she could see the remnants of tears dried on them. You ignore her question, heart aching again as you remember Sangyeon’s panicked and distraught face as he reached out to you, only to grasp empty air. You accept her helping hand, groaning when the world spins and you clutch onto your head, closing your eyes for a moment to stabilize yourself. 

You slowly walk out of the corridor, taking wobbly steps to reunite with your group. Your face lights up when you notice the familiar group of tourists, and you quicken your pace, ignoring your friend’s attempts of slowing you down. Gasping, you bump into someone’s back, almost throwing you off balance until you’re steadied by him, large hands supporting you. Looking up, the apology dies in your throat as you’re met with a familiar face.

Sangyeon?

Recognition floods you as your eyes rove over the slopes and angles of the male’s face.  He looked eerily similar to Sangyeon and you almost laughed at the coincidence. Life just kept on surprising you when you least expected it.

In front of you, the man apologizes and offers you a smile. “Have we met?” he questions, tilting his head, and your heart soars at the familiarity of it.

You hide your smile, looking down at your feet as memories surfaced, of kisses stolen in corridors and sweet nothings whispered at night, when Sangyeon had thought you were asleep.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m (Y/n).” you state, offering your hand.

“Sangyeon.” he grins, eyes crinkling adorably as he grips your hand, shaking it firmly and your cheeks involuntarily flush at the warmth of his hand enveloping yours.

Even if your love had happened almost 600 years ago, somehow life had bound you together again and you swore you saw a glimpse of the delicate red string that encircled your pinky, connecting yours with his before it disappeared. You listen to him talk, nodding along absentmindedly. Perhaps you were soulmates. 

At that, the clouds break apart, revealing the moon, illuminating the area, washing the stone in silvery tones, as if showing its approval. 

»»————-　　————-««

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[hitbythunder]

Chandrilan Moons - 1

A Kylo Ren x Reader story with much angst, possessiveness and dark themes (warnings will be updated as the story progresses) –> Read also on AO3

Summary: Growing up under the loving care of your foster-mother, Leia Organa, there had been nothing for you and Rey to want for. Though not of kin, you loved Rey as your sister and spent a happy childhood with her on Chandrila. But when the boiling galactic politics demanded for Leia to take action, for the Resistance to rise and fight, the girls could no longer evade the cruelty of the world. Kylo Ren sought a map as a key to revenge, to freedom, and had no use for a force-unsensitive young girl like you. You were simply a means to an end. Until his darkness latched onto you, drawn in by your light as you were by the demon that is Kylo Ren - inevitably gravitating towards each other, bound to be one. Like the Chandrilan moons.

****

____________________________xXx____________________________ 1- Prologue

+On board the Finalizer, orbiting Jakku+

The echo of heavy footsteps, determined and ominous in their approach, were enough of an announcement to have each trooper filled with dread. While the prison sector of the Finalizer had rarely been a much frequented place, the imminent presence of the Commander had the corridors wiped clear of any living soul having lost their way here. Except, of course, for the poor sods assigned to guard the occupied cells, frozen in place as their superior rounded the corner. In a cloud of pitch-black cloth he moved, his long cape and flowing robes billowing in the wake of his powerful strides, almost seamlessly melting into the surrounding's black walls and floor. Only the stainless steel details of his helmet gave him away, glistening in the dim light. Like a demon, a creature born of darkness, he seemed to glide like an ominous shadow along the hallway, swallowing everything in his path. Even morphed into the blackness of clothes and interior, he was imposing in a frightful way and with the hood drawn deep over his unique helmet, the Commander appeared like a giant walking among men.

For many he was indeed an otherworldly creature, the heir of darkness as the direct descendant of the legendary Darth Vader and exceptional force-user, Klyo Ren. His name alone having grown men tremble in fear, striking terror among both enemy and his own men. Because no one was safe from his violent tantrums and unabashedly display of power. Though not even a handful of (living) people were acquainted with the scope of his abilities.

Kylo didn't acknowledge the troopers at the door, not beyond how one tolerates the presence of a fly but just barely so, and entered the prison cell holding the Resistance pilot. He too was just an insect to Kylo, a vessel which had no use apart from the memory-cells its brain possessed. Said brain cells held a clue to Skywalker's whereabouts, a vital piece of information which Kylo longed to obtain. To find his uncle, to confront him with all the hatred and rage Kylo had harnessed against him over the years since the fateful night at the temple, and to kill him slowly and painfully once in his clutches. Sweet and alluring, the prospect of revenge had been whispered to him in lonely moments, promising so much more power once the cursed Jedi ceased to exist. And Kylo craved that power, which would enable him to surpass and free him from his own master - a sadistic and foul creature that used Kylo like a trained dog, at his beck and call, while keeping his powers from further development. Although it had been Snoke who had led and taught him in the ways of the dark side, Kylo couldn't shake the feeling that his master had become envious of his capabilities as a force-user, thus putting any progress on hold. Apparently, a useful weapon ought to be powerful but not threateningly so, as to keep it under control and so that it didn't surpass its usefulness.

But Kylo had enough of it, growing hatred simmering in the core of his mind and blending so neatly with the cacophony of negative emotions there, that Snoke had not the slightest idea of his apprentice's developing enmity. The brunt of Kylo's hate translated into raw violence on missions, a welcome outlet whenever it all became too much for him.

Patience was a key to success in this case and so Kylo bode his time, gathering strength through his own training and through spilling blood in the name of the dark side. There wasn't a more beautiful color than the red liquid of life, bright and vibrant as it flowed freely, turning almost black when seeping into the earth. Just like Skywalker's blood would, once Kylo got hold of him and the anticipation thereof thrilled him to a point of barely restrained impatience. Translating in an even shorter temper and unpredictable moods these days. As well as zero tolerance for insects that dared to waste his time, like the pilot currently restrained in front of him.

"I will get the information I want." Kylo growled through the voice-coder of his helmet, a rasping and sinister tone in the otherwise quiet cell, and increased the onslaught on the pilot's mind without mercy. "Even if it means to pick your brain apart."

Unable to uphold the playful bravery, Poe Dameron's excruciating screams bled through the durasteel walls onto the hallway.

+++ +Two days earlier - Resistance Base on D'Qar+

"Rey, wait up! Rey!" I called across the hangar area, running towards a particular X-wing starfighter and its ready-to-board pilot. Heads turned as I passed them, but ignoring their perplexed stares, I made a zig-zag through the small crowd in my way. Rey turned to find me in front of her, slightly panting and cheeks flushed from the sprint.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were practicing the harpiton." Rey surprised us both at how reprimanding that came out and we bristled in unison at the notion of her sounding like our foster-mother. Rey seemed very excited, perhaps even nervous, about her very first flight in an X-wing starfighter, type 406-G with upgraded shoot-assistant and improved hyper-drive, based on carbo -

"D'Qar to Rey! Hello, is anybody home in there?" I waved her hand in front of Rey's face, far too long for her liking. She gently swatted my hand away, replied:

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"Stars, I guess I don't even want to know where you always drift off to." I sighed, but then continued with a fond smile. "I came to wish you good luck for your flight and to remind you to make me a holo-gram of the stars up there."

"Thanks and don't worry, little sis, soon you'll fly among the stars too." Rey replied as we hugged, then beamed with barely contained joy. "See you later, sis!"

I slowly made my way back to the entrance of the underground-base, one last look over my shoulder confirming that Rey had taken off for her flight-lesson into space - being among the stars literally! To play the harpithon (a mixture of a harp and a hang) seemed bland, if not ridiculous, in comparison and I highly doubted that my playing skills would be of any use in the war.

What a world it would be if music could bring peace., I mused as I strolled through the hallways of the ever bustling base, soon reaching the more quieter area where the private quarters lay. We girls shared a room, spacious enough to get along but still rather stuffy, especially with the unwieldy harpiton in the middle. I began to practice, my fingers gliding along the strings and drumming against the round metallic corpus at the bottom. Soon I lost myself in the soft tunes, for it always reminded me of my home-world Chandrila and of the many childhood-years I had spent there along with Rey - always with Rey. Though we were not blood-related, we had grown up together and became as close as sisters could be - perhaps even more so because we shared unknown origins - under the gentle care of our foster-mother Leia Organa.

Back then, when Leia had been a senator, she had participated in a charity-program for orphans and had taken us girls in. Little Rey had been about 3 years and I still a new-born then. Leia's position as senator had provided well for us, without wanting for anything, though Leia had never spoiled us. We had had a happy childhood, with all the ups and downs of family-life that made it worthwhile. And although we had learned rather early not to be of the same kin, we had grown to love Leia like a mother.

With Leia's husband, Han Solo, it had been quite a different story. We had rarely seen him, because of his occupation as smuggler Han tended not to remain in one place for long - and also, as we had always suspected, he had never approved of Leia's decision to adopt us. He didn't say so himself and Leia would never admit it, but the distinctly reserved manner in which he behaved around us - not unkind but also far from loving - which was often paired with an almost painful expression, made us doubt his affection towards us. Although Rey in her youthful optimism had always tried to reach out to him (thus perhaps her affinity for technology and ships), Han refused to become the father-figure we longed for. It was only us girls, Leia and her handmaid Gemma in a small but luxurious estate in Hanna City (capitol city of Chandrila).

Much later, when I was about 15 years old and Rey 17, we learned that there had been a child before us, a son of Leia' and Han's blood. The son whose loss - Leia never told us what had happened - had torn the parents apart and suddenly we understood both Han's reticence towards us and Leia's wish to save us orphans from an unknown future.

At about that time, the former Imperialists had spread the rumor that Lea was Darth Vader's daughter and further she had some affiliation towards Kylo Ren - the rising apprentice of the dark side - was her son. Leia had neither confirmed nor denied any of it and kept her secrets close, always avoiding our questions regarding that matter so that eventually it became a taboo among those surrounding her. But the rumors remained. Of course, these accusations - though unproven and doubted by many - had harmed Leia's position in the senate, enough to force her to resign her seat as senator. Ultimately, she decided to leave our home and travel around the galaxy in order to form the Resistance. Still teenagers at that time, we weren't involved at all and remained on Chandrila. It had been three difficult and sometimes lonely years for us girls, at the prime of our puberty. We both tried to find distractions for missing Leia: Rey in her training with the Force and an interest in technology; and I in acquiring a broad knowledge of the galaxy and its history, languages and customs, which in included the ways of the Jedi as well as their sinister opposite the Sith. Though the sources of information available to me at that time had been limited and always supervised by Gemma with a watchful eye. It had required quite some finesse of me to sneak even grains of info about Darth Vader or Kylo Ren past her.

Essentially we tried to be good daughters Leia would be proud of and when she finally allowed us join her here on D'Qar, we were happy beyond the moon. That was 4 months ago and while D'Qar didn't feel like home, I was just glad to be with Leia and Rey, my family.

Engrossed in both play and thought, I hadn't noted the knock on the door, nor the swishing noise as it opened and was rather surprised when Leia sat down on the bed to my left.

"You play very lovely, dearest." she said, a fond smile on her faintly highlighted lips. Despite her rank as General, Leia had always kept the regal posture and an excellent choice of clothes that stemmed from her royal upbringing. And in times as these, a tough but wise leader was exactly what the Resistance needed.

"Thanks, it's a song I've composed myself." I replied as I shifted my chair backwards, away from the harpiton, in order to turn my body fully to Leia. "Though I was wondering if ..." my eyes dropped to my lap, to the ceiling, anywhere but Leia's intense brown eyes. "...if there aren't more useful skills for me to obtain."

"___________..." Leia sighed, knowing even without the Force where this was leading.

"I could become a pilot - not of a starfighter but perhaps a freighter? Or I could-"

"We've had this discussion many times before, dear, and my answer hasn't changed." Leia put in with finality, not wanting to draw this out (yet again).

"But it's not... I feel miserable sitting here while Rey is up there-" I pointed to the ceiling, imagining Rey having the best time of her life while flying "-becoming an even better pilot than Poe." I huffed in annoyance, continued though with a calm yet sad expression: "I know I'm not as good as her at combat or piloting but there must be something I can do to help our cause!"

Leia regarded me for a moment, silently waiting for me to regain my composure and return to a sensible mind-state before she answered:

"Don't compete with your sister, dearest. Your capabilities might not be obviously useful as of now, but trust me they are of great value and one day the Resistance will need a smart, well-educated lady just like you."

"Mhm..." I nodded solemnly, unsatisfied by the answer given but unwilling to continue a lost discussion. As kind as Leia's words were, they only sugar-coated the fact that I would never be like Rey. Rey who was athletic and agile in her movements, cunning and brave during fights while also having a knack for mechanics and technology. And as if that wasn't enough, every-body's darling Rey was a decent Force-wielder too.

Since early child-hood, Leia had always watched out for signs that we may be connected to the Force, having us forgo some simple tests once in a while, and at the age of 13 Rey's powers had finally awakened. Well, no such luck for me though, because the Force seemed to shun me despite my best efforts to connect with it. Resulting in another shortcoming on my part in comparison to Rey and excluding me from the special bond Rey and Leia therefore built.

Leia's famous brother, Luke Skywalker, had already vanished into his self-imposed exile to stars-knew where. So in lack of a proper teacher, Leia had to manage not only her role as senator in a rather turbulent political period, but also her new responsibility to educate Rey in the ways of the Force. They had spent countless hours together and sometimes I had joined them to at least understand the theory of the matter, albeit unable to perform the practical parts. We learned of the eternal conflict between light and darkness in the Force, as well as about the Jedi order and its fight against the former Empire - a substantial part of galactic history which many thought of as legends nowadays. And although I knew that it wasn't anybody's fault but pure chance, I had always envied Rey and deep down wished to be just like her. Knowing that it never would be.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E86 (Nov. 26, 2019)

And we’re off! Tonight’s guests are the long-awaited Ashley Johnson and Matt Mercer! “Tonight, Ashley’s back, Ashley’s back, and Ashley’s back... we’ll break it all down tonight with my guest, Ashley.”

Announcements: Pretty new dice and pinup calendar now in the store! The recording of the Austin live show (The Adventures of the Darrington Brigade!) will be streaming on Twitch on Friday at 7 PM Pacific, and the VOD will be available on YouTube on Sunday! The fundraising campaign with OSD is still live! There will be no episode of Critical Role this week and no episode of Talks Machina next week because of the holiday.

Even a brief Meat Loaf digression can’t stop us, so it’s time for...

Episode 86: The Cathedral

Stats for this week’s episode: Yasha was under Obann’s control for 59 days. Obann is Yasha’s 14th HDYWTDT. Caleb set the campaign record for most damage dealt in a single turn: 449 damage. Matt rolled his 120th Natural 20 this campaign against Cad’s Blight spell on the caedogeist.

While Ashley was away, there were a few different paths that could’ve dictated how things would’ve gone while she was away: being under Obann’s sway meant she mostly got updates from Matt about what was happening, and Ashley would give her reactions to those experiences (Matt references the Purple Man in Jessica Jones for how twisted her perception was). Ashley: “Matt gave me a breakdown of things that have been happening in our world, Obann and the caedogeist and the Laughing Hand and Yasha. It’s heavy, but I feel like it really was the best way to leave the campaign, it felt a little bit more organic than even the last time, with Pike.” Matt and Ashley both emphasize that there’s a connection between Obann and Yasha pre-campaign.

Matt knew from the beginning that there would be a Tharizdun-based narrative, but he let the tie-ins to this particular story evolve naturally. “I knew there would be an aspect of Tharizdun essentially catfishing a bunch of other cults.”

How aware was Yasha of what she was doing? “I believe she was fully aware, just no control of her body or the things that she was doing.” But having Obann as her only companion for so long was definitely a factor. Matt: “It wasn’t like he took control of you and was like, do my bidding. He was very, trying to talk her up. ‘You’re chosen for a reason, you’re special, you’re one of the harbingers chosen for the angel...’ It’s a very fucked-up relationship.”

Based on who the group spoke to in Zadash, they could’ve had some help from the Gentleman, Dolan, the High Richter... but things happened to throw down in Pumat’s shop. “You know, he’s already been pulled into this fray a bit. I already have the minis painted...” Dani points out that his presence brought some much-needed levity. Until the end of the episode, at least...

Whose reactions are Yasha most worried about? Beau, after the way the fight went. “That was one of the most stressful moments I’ve ever had in a game.” Ashley texted Brian in the middle of the game: “If I’d killed Beau I’d have just killed myself.” Especially after what happened with her wife, and all the lives she’s taken, that would have been the last straw. She’s also aware that there’s tension with Fjord. “I think even before there was some distrust that Fjord had with Yasha a bit. But I think still with everybody, it’s knowing what she’s done at this point, and just playing against them and fighting them. She’ll deal with the weight of that for a while, and just be like, how can I make it up to you?” Ashley does want to find a way to turn it around to make Yasha a little bit happy in there. “I was just like, oh, I’ve made something very sad!”

The dispel wasn’t a sure thing by any means. “I had set it as a fifth-level domination effect for the purposes of dispelling. There was a chance that they were going to succeed and destroy the shackle and continue on to wherever the next one would be, in which case Yasha would carry on with them.” In that case, Ashley could’ve played an ancillary character in the meantime. Even if Obann had been killed, that connection would’ve remained, but his fear at the end of his life was the Chained Oblivion’s punishment awaiting: the removal of his fiendish form.

Cosplay of the Week! Ashley sings a new theme song: “Sew it all together! (deadpan) Take a picture.” This week’s winner was an amazing Vax, WittyWyndi on Twitter!

“I think, of course, being herself again and being in control of all of her actions, I think there is an element of wanting to run because you’re not wanting to deal with the problems, but I think she’s been doing it for so long... I think she’s very afraid to be alone. And that was one of the things that kept coming up in all the games and things Matt was telling me. Man, if I think about the future of this character, and if she comes out of this, what would you feel, being under someone’s influence and then being around your family? I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to be alone.” Brian: “Isolation is an incubator that turns mistakes into habits.” Ashley: “I feel like I relate to that, because as a hermit and a very introverted person, I feel like my go-to is to run away or say I’m not going to deal with this. So maybe that’s a little therapy in the game, can I sit in this and still be with people who are upset with me? Obviously it’s being in a community and dealing with people, that’s a much better way than to deal with something alone. I’m going to try to tackle that in the game and see. Who knows, she might freak out and just run.”

Ashley, on coming back to the west coast for good: “I feel like I’ve been away at sea.” Brian: “Yeah, NBC.”

Gods are more present in this campaign only because there are much more deity-connected characters. Matt tries to avoid too much divine influence in his campaigns to make sure players still have the majority of the agency and don’t tend to use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card. 

Comcast is installing fiber in my neighborhood and brief service outages may occur. This fun fact brought to you by the little spinning wheel that just interrupted Matt for a minute. Thanks, Comcast.

More gods in a campaign means more complications on Matt’s end. “There are a lot of deities in the Pantheon, and there are lesser idols in the world, entities that aren’t gods per se but that hold elements of some divine power. Playing in that space is fun, but I don’t want to overcrowd it necessarily.”

On getting the kill on Obann: “It was just so exciting to come back to the table, and you love the HDYWTDT moment from Matt, but I think for Yasha there’s a lot of weirdness to it. Just because you kill the thing that has been torturing you doesn’t mean you’re free from that trauma. I don’t think she’s satisfied yet.” But it was super satisfying for Ashley as a player!

There was a part of Matt that wanted Obann to survive a little longer, because there was “more shit he could do.” If he’d managed to get four people into place, it would’ve immediately started the ritual, those four would have been paralyzed and their AC would have been dramatically boosted, and the M9 would have had one round to try to stop it by killing one of the people in the square before everyone involved in the ritual would have been instantly killed. Brian: “You’re a sick and twisted and terrible man and I want to kiss you.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing Yasha in the cathedral by Neverdraws on Twitter!

If the party had revealed who Obann was really working for (he was unaware up until the very end), that was potentially a different direction things could have gone. Ashley: “Yasha doesn’t know yet.” Matt: “The only thing Yasha knows about the Angel of Irons is what it did to Obann.”

Ashley asked Matt whether Yasha would know whether the other members of the party were controlled, and Matt had her roll to see what she picked up on. Matt: “It may come out in the game.”

The description of the new breastplate was just to emphasize that Obann had kitted her out to help her be a stronger ally for him. Whether she keeps it is up to her.

Which of the changes in the M9 are going to take the most getting used to? “This feels a little bit like me coming home, where it’s like you’re away for a while, then you’re like, things are so different. I think it’s just adjusting. She’ll see the relationships, the tattoos, Fjord’s-- the accent thing we didn’t get into in game the other night, but Yasha noticed. We’ll see how it plays out in game and how everyone treats Yasha and how everyone responds to that, whether it’s positive reinforcement or negative. I feel like the positive reinforcement’s going to be tougher.”

On people getting emotionally attached to NPCs: “It catches me off-guard sometimes. I’m just excited that people are as invested in them as I am. With that particular Pumat moment, it made me excited that everyone else was as OH GOD NO at the table as I was.”

[littlemisssquiggles]

So I have SEVERAL feelings over the gif and am super worried over Ruby's expression, her being separated from her team in the snow, the fact that Oscar's taking her place at the head of RWBY, and the fact that Ruby is aligned with Yang who is mentioned to be "suspicious" AND I AM NOT READY

Hiya Miki-chan. Weirdly enough, despite what the intro GIF teased, this squiggle meister took a more light-hearted reaction to it, to be honest.

I know some folks are assuming that Oscar taking Ruby’s place alongside WBY as a stance on him replacing Ruby as leading the group and…I for one, didn’t really see it that way.

For me, I looked at it as a sign that perhaps Oscar may take a more supportive stance besides Ruby; not necessarily taking her place as leader but more as being a right hand to her---y’know like an advisor to aid her in these troubling times when tensions are high and the overall trust within the team is suffering because of it. For me, I took this as us potentially seeing Oscar help Ruby to mend the broken bonds within their team, thus restoring what they once had.

It made me think back to the Little Prince and the lesson he learnt from the fox---a lesson about love and responsibility. About one being responsible for what you tame. The Fox told the Prince that he was responsible for his rose as he was the one who cared for her, and that what’s made her the most unique to him in a world full of roses.

It is because of this why I always latched onto the concept of Oscar being a support for Ruby and strangely enough, we’ve seen Oscar take a helpful role towards Ruby in the past.

We saw him take this position back during the dojo moment in V5 when Ruby wasn’t being honest regarding her repressed emotions over the events of the Fall of Beacon. We saw Oscar take this stance again in V6 in Argus when Ren questioned the room of a proper plan of action to stop Salem and we see Oscar look to Ruby, who appeared distraught as she had no answer to give. From there, we then saw Oscar try to speak up in a move that gave the impression that he was trying to emulate Ruby in that moment---trying to be a voice of reason and optimism while simultaneously diverting all the negative attention that Ruby was receiving onto himself in a sense.

Consecutively, this is later followed up by Oscar attempting to reassure Ruby of their plan back in Argus when she appeared troubled over Qrow’s behaviour.

Basically what I’m getting at is that, I’ve always liked the thought of Oscar being a “fuel to Ruby’s spark”. Since the forces of evil have threatened to break Ruby’s indomitable spirit and snuff out that light of hers, I liked the idea of Oscar becoming someone who makes it his duty to keep Ruby’s spark alive.

I based it off of this analogy I shared back in my musings from V5. Ruby is often described as possessing an unquantifiable spark. A spark is type of a flame. A flame that burns brightly to ignite the way and guide those lost to the darkness like a beacon in the night. However even the brightest of flames cannot burn forever. Eventually that flames grows weary---starts to dim until eventually its burnt out.

But do you know what is often used to keep a fire going? Wood.

Oscar’s last name is Pine and pine is a type of wood. Therefore, should Ruby’s spark start to dim. Should her spirit slowly start to break from all the pressures placed on her, I love the concept of Oscar being the one to reignite it---providing Ruby with that same burst of inspiration that she’s always provided him. Therefore Oscar becomes someone of great importance to Ruby as he becomes a source of motivation for her. Someone to keep her going and be a beacon of hope to her when she starts to go astray and feel her spark dwindling. A fuel to a spark powered by an unyielding heart of loyalty love and bathed in a golden light as bright as the sun.

That what’s I’m picturing Oscar to become for Ruby in terms of his significance to her. Even if romance isn’t in the cards for the rosebuds, I’d still love for Oscar’s relationship with Ruby to be meaningful and unique to them; just like the bond between the prince and his true rose.

And let’s not forget that…Oscar has already acknowledged Ruby’s vulnerability and understands it. What I mean by this is that that despite Ruby being christened as the voice of hope and encouragement within her group---the one everyone turns to for leadership, Oscar has already realized that this also means that Ruby has a lot of pressure placed on her because of the badge of leadership that’s been put on her by those around. Hence the comment he made to Ozpin back in V5CH5.

“…She really is remarkable, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She must’ve been one of these best huntresses at Beacon, huh?”

“In some ways yes but in many others, no. She has her quirks. Her faults, just like everyone else. But she also possesses something unquantifiable. A spark that can inspire others even in the darkest of times.”

“…This must be really hard on her too.”

“It’s most assuredly is.”

In the beginning, Oscar reacts the Ruby the same way others who grow to admire her usual do. He is enamoured by her remarkability, as Oz put it. However the instant Oz goes even further into giving his own impression of Ruby and mentions that she is a person of inspiration to others, Oscar’s impression of her changes a little as he took Ruby’s role as leader as her also having a lot of expectations placed on her (like him) and he gets it immediately.

And that’s another reason why I loved the V5 dojo scene. It says so much about Oscar without saying a lot and it’s great.

Ironically enough, it’s AFTER this brief conversation with Oz where I noticed Oscar taking up a more dedicated approach towards Ruby---immediately being one of the first few people to run to her side after she’s hurt by Emerald during the Battle of Haven. Defying  even Ozpin---his other half essentially--- and fighting against him to possible protect Ruby from Oz when the ole soul’s desperation to prevent Ruby from using the lamp to uncover the truth got the better of him. And the list can go on.

Oscar understands the weight that Ruby feels and probably will feel even more now as she is basically placed in the same position that Oz was back during the events of V6. When the group turned on Oz, Oscar was pretty much the one to feel the brunt of the ole soul’s emotions after he chose to isolate himself. That being said, I can see Oscar not wishing to see the same thing happen to Ruby so like I said, I’m hoping his position in the opening will hint at him becoming an advisor or crutch to Ruby, standing by her side and working with her to mend everything.

That being said, I’m not saying I’m expecting Oscar to be a blind follower of Ruby, choosing to “follow her lead”. One thing I love about Oscar’s character is that while he may appear apprehensive at times, he’s never afraid to speak his mind and let others know exactly what he’s thinking and he’s not one to sugar coat either.

Oscar is rather blunt but still articulate in the way he expresses himself. It’s never vague with Oscar. He’s quite upfront about his thoughts and fears. While it may take him some time to open up, whenever he does get the courage to speak up, he always does so in a manner that commands the room or practically demands that his voice is heard by those around him.

And another trait I admire about Oscar is that he isn’t afraid to share his opinions even when he outright disagrees with someone’s stance on a particular subject. If he feels as if someone’s actions are wrong or may lead to issues, Oscar doesn’t withhold those feelings. He lets them know as highlighted when he was the first character to oppose Ruby’s decision to deceive the General. He was also quite upfront about his disagreement with the General’s actions towards the People of Mantle and progression of Amity Tower. Oscar even tried to warn the General of the path he was taking and while things still ended poorly, you still have to admire Oscar’s character in these moments.

To me, this is one of the moments that highlighted why I would consider Oscar to be our SECOND smaller, more honest soul next to Ruby. This is why I want to see him step up and be a voice of comfort and wisdom to Ruby in these times. Whether or not Ruby choses to heed his words isn’t really the factor here. I just want to see this dynamic done since this could provide an amazing opportunity to see the friendship that’s been slowly building between the rosebuds for the past few seasons truly start to flourish.

V8 could spark the moment when the Rosegarden bond fully blooms into a beautiful relationship---be it a really great friendship built on trust and understanding or perhaps something more.

Oscar is loyal to Ruby, yes. And he believes in her, yes. He also trusts her wholeheartedly, yes. However if he fears that her actions are leading her down a dark path, he will tell her so. And unlike other characters, Oscar will tell Ruby this to her face---not in a manner that condescends or belittles her---but in his own way. Firm yet understanding (like how we saw back in V5CH5).

Basically what I’m saying here is that I can trust Oscar to always being upfront with Ruby about his concerns and opinions on her actions and decisions which…is something I would like to say for the rest of her team but…I can’t. Not really.

Weiss and Blake may have their feelings and concerns but in the end, they are more or less written off as sheep perfectly content with following the herd led by Ruby as their shepherd (even if that headship ultimately winds them in a den of wolves). And while Yang had been highlighted to not be entirely complacent with her sister’s leadership (as we saw during the events of V7), it still bugs me how Yang went behind Ruby’s back the way she did last season.

It almost felt…uncharacteristic for her to do this considering that Yang has been described as someone who has always looked out for Ruby as both the older sibling and surrogate parent to her. So why have Yang go behind, not just Ruby’s back, but the whole hero team to be an informant to Robyn Hill and then…NOT disclose this info to the rest of the her teammates. Only Blake knew and like I said, Blake is a sheep, fine with following Yang’s lead despite not doing anything herself to inform the others of what the Bees did together.

In reviewing the episode where this essentially took place---V7CH7: Worse Case Scenario---Yang is the one who basically gave Blake the go ahead to inform Robyn of the truth behind Amity when the two cornered her in the alleyway. Yang was even the first to talk and tell Robyn of Ironwood’s plans to send the Ace Ops to detain her.

“…If Ironwood wants me, he’ll have to send more than a couple of kids.”

“He is. Stopping the trucks alerted the Ace Ops. We don’t have long before they arrive so please listen to us.”

Yang spoke first. There is an even a shot in that very episode where Blake goes to spill the beans to Robyn but looks to Yang first for validation and it’s only when Yang nods in agreement when Blake finally shares. Although Blake is the one who told Robyn about the plans for Amity, it was Yang who practically gave her the go-ahead.

So while Blake is an accomplice, I’m going to place full responsibility for this tactic on Yang since she made the first call and also encouraged Blake to reveal the truth. Ruby’s choice to deceive was bad, yes but we cannot ignore Yang’s own choices to deceive in this mix which is also very problematic and could prove more dangerous than one might realize.

And given how there seems to be this talk in the FNDM about Yang being the one to apprehend Ruby for her actions inV7….I'm going to be blunt with you, Miki-chan. If the show does what you think they're gonna do by having Yang be the one who either calls Ruby out for the mistakes she made from her decisions or have Yang be the voice of doubt against Ruby, basically placing her in the same role as she did with Oz back in V6, I'm honestly going to hate it.

Let me explain why I REALLY don’t like this angle. I said this before back in V6 and I'll say it again here, Yang Xiao Long has no right calling anyone out for their deceit or secrets when she is NO innocent party.

May I remind everyone that the only reason that the group ended up needing to transport the Lamp of Knowledge to Atlas in the first place was because Yang boldly told Raven Branwen---the Spring Maiden to leave her with the Relic allowing Salem to come after her and the others as opposed to advising her to seal the lamp back into its respective vault.

“…Yeah I’m scared but I’m still standing here. I’m not like you. I won’t run which is why you’re going to give me the relic.”

“And why would I ---“ “Because you’re afraid of Salem! And if you thought having maiden powers will put a target on your back, imagine what she would do if she finds out that you have a relic. She will come after you with everything she has. Or she can come after me and I’ll be standing there, waiting for her.”

“You don’t want to do this.” “Nope but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

As noble as this was of Yang to do in the moment, it was still HER decision to have Salem target the hero group for the Relic instead of her mother. It was a choice she made of her own accord and it’s a choice she hasn’t disclosed to anyone since the impression after V5 is that beyond Raven disappearing again, Yang hasn’t told anyone else of what was said and revealed down in the Vault of the Spring Maiden. Even when Qrow asked her about it during the V5 finale, she basically told him…well…a half-truth.

“…What happened?” “I don’t know exactly. When I got down there, Cinder was gone and Vernal was dead.” “And Raven?” “Gone.”

The half-truth is that Raven did leave but not before Yang figured out that she was the Spring Maiden and not before Yang told her to leave the lamp in her possession instead of sealing the lamp back in its vault. May I remind everyone that Yang also didn't tell anyone that Raven---her mother---is the Spring Maiden?

And may I also remind everyone that Yang (along with Blake) was the one who went behind the group's back and told Robyn Hill about Amity. A detail that neither she nor Blake disclosed to the rest of the team.

“…This isn’t over yet. We’re with you.” “Are you with me?” “Sir?” “…How did Robyn know about the Global Communications Project?” “We told her. The night of the ambush.”

At least with Ruby, everyone was aware that Ruby made the call to lie to Ironwood about Salem including Oscar who basically sorted that out for Ruby (even though it SHOULD have been Ruby herself taking responsibility for her own actions in my opinion). However no one knew what Yang had done with Blake with Robyn which was why they all seemed pleasantly surprised when Ironwood brought it up. Blake and Yang were the only two members of RWBY who knew about this detail and note that Ironwood didn’t bring up the group deceiving him about Salem.

Again, that part was ironed out thanks to Oscar. But the part about Robyn, that part James didn’t know about. And unfortunately for our heroes, neither did they.

Yet…Yang phrased it as if RWBY had told Robyn when in fact, it was just Yang and Blake who made that call while Ruby and Weiss were clearly in the dark as evidenced by their troubled expressions at the Aces’ and Ironwood’s reactions to the news.

You're seeing my issue with Yang being the one to call Ruby out? If Yang ends up being the one doubtful of Ruby or "suspicious" of her actions/decisions, it'll pretty much be a rehash of V7.

Most of us thought it was mighty hypocritical for Ruby to be deemed in the right for choosing to lie to Ironwood following the group's chastising of Oz for withholding important information (the same info mind you) from them.

So wouldn't it be ultra mega hypocritical of Yang to be the one to doubt Ruby's actions and leadership based on her decisions and mistakes when...technically it was Yang's actions---an action she didn't tell her team---that provided the other end of the final straw that ultimately broke Ironwood and caused him to turn against the hero team.

While what Ruby did started it, what Yang did ended it in a sense because as I’ll point out again, AT LEAST Ironwood knew about what Ruby did, thanks to Oscar. But no one knew what Yang did. Except for Blake.

But her own sister. Their  own aforementioned leader didn't know and I'm sorry, THAT needs to be addressed.

While I'm fine with Ruby being called out, Yang needs to be called out too. I will be so mad if Yang is treated as being in the right again while her own actions go unscathed.

It upset me when Yang had the gall to call out Oz for his lies and secrets while sitting on her own and it would bother me to know ends if it is done again for Ruby.

Yang cannot be the "good cop" or sheriff to bring Ruby to justice for her actions. She's got her own skeletons to be unearthed and thrown on the floor, exposed and raw for all to judge and I honestly hope this happens for V8 finally. 

Let it be a western style dual. Let both parties draw fire to take out each other. Let it be a case where both Ruby and Yang start to mirror Oz and Ironwood’s dynamic from way back in V2. Both parties don't agree with each other's decisions despite being close allies. Both parties have their own methods of helping the people and believe them to be in the right when in actuality they both end up being the catalysts to further cause more problems within their team; dividing them even further.

Instead of Yang being planted on some high horse and made to be the judge that hangs Ruby for her mistakes while continuing to hide her own, I want BOTH SISTERS be held accountable for driving a deeper wedge between their group only for Oscar Pine to end up having to be the middleman to come in and help repair it all.

And I say Oscar of all characters, not just because I’m a Pinehead and want to see more development for my favourite little prince but mainly because like it or not, Oscar HAS to be the one to be in the middle of this shitstorm since...in essence, this all started with Ozma and was prolonged by Ozpin.

And as Ozma's current heir succeeding Oz, Oscar will probably see it as his own duty to fix everything sparked by his predecessors.

Oscar already has faith in Ruby and if him spending time with Yang down in Mantle could lend to him learning to have faith in her too then this could ultimately lend to him desiring to quell the tension between both sisters that’s slowly affecting their faction, henceforth working to reconcile everything with everyone.

I’ve expressed how much I would like to see Oscar mend the broken bonds within his team and I still want that above anything else to be part of his arc for this coming season. 

The hero team dynamic needs a reboot; with everyone being cleared of their past false actions so that they can start anew with everyone on a clean page with one another and a better willingness to trust each other now that they've all experienced what deceit and secrecy amongst allies can do.

I want this so much and I want Oscar to play a big part in making it happen. 

I don’t wanna hear “Ruby is our protagonist and she has to fix everything” or “Yang will be our stan queen for V8 to call Ruby out”.  NO! 

Both girls have fucked up! Everyone has fucked up!

Including my boy. The difference is that at least Oscar knows he’s fucked up. He is AT LEAST aware of his fuckery unlike Yang and Ruby and the rest of the hero team which is why I need Oscar to be the one to pull everyone up for their shit.

Since who better to do it than the person whose shares a body with the man whose made more mistakes than any man, women and child on Remnant, am I right? 

 Even now as we head into V8, I don’t think Ruby and Yang are aware of the consequences of their own mistakes. None of them seem to be. All the more reason why I think they require the wisdom and guidance of another smaller, more honest soul---one whose seen it from BOTH sides of the coin and can now make a call to better help everyone as a whole.

That's what I'd like to see. Not sure if this changes how you feel Miki-chan but that's how I see it.

P.S. On another note, if it’s any further consolation, I’m not ready for V8 either 8V 

Like it still hasn’t quite hit me as yet even when the episode is literally tomorrow. All I will say is that I NEED to see that opening. Based on how things are staged from the teaser, that opening and the visuals that tells what we’ll see for that season will be what gets me into V8.

But we’ll see XD 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[pastel9girlbunny000die]

Age Gap... AU

Part 1

One Piece The Monster trio~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA and nakedness, smoking and drinking

***

Monkey D. Luffy🍖

🍖Dating a younger s/o has never really been a problem or something bad for Luffy

🍖Cause his more of a child than you are.

🍖People outside of your friend group always assumed that you guys are good friends or relatives.

🍖When Luffy's friends found out you two where dating, they we're really supportive and made you feel part of a great social group... better than the poeple you hang out at school

🍖Same with Luffy's family. They accepted you as part of the family without hesitation, but still trying to wrap their heads around how you two even started dating???

🍖Umm ugh... Your family not so much... Your parents weren't very happy about you dating an older guy like Luffy.

🍖It made them worry

🍖But! You did reinsurer them it's was all fine. He has a decent job makes enough to support a family has a nice cozy home and a loving personality.

🍖it got them off your back for a while~

🍖Buttttttt~😏

🍖when it comes to Luffy's looks, he looks pretty young for his age already reaching his late twenties.

🍖When telling others that your in fact dating doing all the sweet loving couples stuff, they believe you since he looks like an older classmate from your school.

🍖But when you tell then his infact an working adult... they don't believe you, they just take it as a bad joke.

🍖You never ask your meat brain for help with homework cause you might start fooling around instead of doing it, if his presence is around you during school work or studying.

🍖Luffy doesn't really care about age since he loves you for who you are rather than what age gender or colours you are.

🍖And he does it unconditionally.

🍖He loves it when you cook a big meat feast for a king! or you randomly give him cuddles or cheeks kisses. It makes his heart beat exstra fast and butterfly's fluttering all around in his stomach.

🍖Luffy introduced you to a lot of new food and you love most of the dishes. But also found a few new food allergies you never knew you had.

🍖Let's just say you know the hospital staff pretty well now.

🍖Small loving touches like these matters a lot to him like all the little things you do for him. It makes him extremely happy.

🍖PDA 😏*Public display of affection*

🍖Luffy doesn't mind holding hands or little pecks here and there in public.

🍖But holding his hand comes with consequences... be prepared to be dragged from placed to place in a public shopping mall or market cause he won't let go when he runs from food course to food course.

🍖But when it comes to PDA kissing, he only allows the quick peck on the lips or cheeks he doesn't do the long make out session. His not one to sit still in one place for too long.

🍖His your man child after all.

Roronoa Zoro ⚔

⚔Zoro doesn't care.

⚔He dates you cause you are you.

⚔He has never been really the one to judge based on looks but when he met you he saw nothing but the most beautiful thing in the world.

⚔He has a really direct personality and isn't really the one to talk much or too clingy.

⚔Zoro doesn't have a solid job he switches from part time to part time, and one of his joba is the reason he met his s/o.

⚔He got lost on his way too your school and ended up bumping into you, literally.

⚔He nicely asked for directions and you gladly let him tag along with you, even though he sometimes turns the wrong way.

⚔It turned out he applied as a substitute teacher for a month at the boys kendo club.

⚔So you had a lot of time getting to know each other 😏~

⚔Other than that he hit it off pretty well with his s/o. From hanging out at school during lunch, to after school and weekends.

⚔That's how you ended up asking him out on a date.

(Definitely demanding to pick him up!!!)

⚔Than started dating. You later on met his group of friends which surprised you though to him not being a kind of person to hang out with a loud bunch but thier his life long friends and good people, you ended up liking them quicker than your school friends.

⚔Zoro's parents have already passed away and his is the only child so it was sad that you didn't get to meet his family and thank them for making this hard working lovable idiot.

⚔It took you awhile to work up the courage to let your family meet Zoro. It's not that you care about if they liked him or not all you wanted to know if they'll let you be with him and keep loving your marimo.

⚔Their reactions where priceless. But they were okay with it. Since they knew the swordsman from high school and he wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt you.

⚔Telling others that you and Zoro are indeed a couple is weird to them he has a bleak personality and a horrible attitude along with him being in his late 20s.

⚔You on the other hand are sunshine and rainbows all the time full of energy and always positive.

⚔How does that mix?

⚔In public you guys always gets mistaken for father and daughter/Son. But you brush it off and claiming your a couple.

⚔Which surprised them but they don't push further though to Zoro sending them glares.

⚔One thing you love about Zoro is taking little naps together. Anywhere the couch, bed, floor, bath tub anywhere you start cuddling him he'll fall asleep on you a few minutes after you'd follow.

⚔He tought you Kendo. And let's say you got a new hobby.

⚔You once asked him to help you with homework. Next day you came in with the excuse, "Ma'am my dog ate my homework."

⚔Zoro loves you with all his heart sometimes he can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve you or his holding you back?

⚔But you reinsurer him with him is the happiest you have felt in you life.

⚔PDA 😳*Public display of affection*

⚔His not really good with affection but he doesn't push you off when you want a hug or two maybe even kisses he will allow it.

⚔His also not clinging kind of guy. So waking around in public he won't hold your hand but he will put an arm around your neck.

⚔And in return one of your hands slips into the back pocket of his jeans giving you the opportunity to squeeze his ass whenever you desire.

⚔He let's it slide. With a tiny blush.

⚔While walking around in any public place you always keep an exstra eye on him (like a parent making sure not to lose thier kid in a large place).

⚔Your more relaxed when his arm is around you meaning you'll be near him at all times. But when his not your six sense activate to mama bear mode all eyes on him at every second.

⚔In one day at the mall you caught him almost mindlessly walking off in a random direction or out the store.

⚔You had to chase after him.

⚔PDA Kissing😚~ Like I said he doesn't mind it but when he gets a little drunk he full on gets you sucked into a full blown make out session he doesn't care where. In public, at home, in you home, out with his/your friends even near your parents. Nothing gets in his ways of what he wants.

⚔Not even your embarrassment.

⚔After all your stuck with your Marimo.

Sanji Vinsmoke 🚬

🚬Sanji is a complete different case than the other two mentioned above.

🚬He's a hopeless romantic.

🚬First time you met him he was dress as a okama. A first expression you'll never forget, For awhile you wonder who that woman was and thought you'll never cross paths again

🚬Destiny proofed you wrong.

🚬You met him again at the Baratie one of the most famous restaurants in town.

🚬In the end you guys talked the night away, you probably interacted with him more than the poeple you came with.

🚬Later on he invites you for a free homemade meal, personally made by him.

🚬He also gave you his number~ 😚😏

🚬That's how you met.

🚬And later on you two became closer there was just this unique thing about Sanji that made you like him more.

🚬Yes he treats woman with the at most respect and kindness, randomly complements any woman he comes across.

🚬Like a true gentleman.

🚬But in his eyes you felt different. He flirts more with you, he does small sweet things for you.

🚬And don't forget the mouthwatering lunch boxes you get to take school.

🚬Sanji spoils his s/o with a lot of affection he can't go a day without a hug or kiss, if he doesn't get either one of them he will genuinely worry.

🚬Sanji thinks it's cute that your younger than him, it gives him more of a responsibility vibe when his near you.

🚬He practically treats his young s/o like the rightful queen/King they are.

🚬But that doesn't mean his a little negative when it came to his age, his not that old reaching his late 20s, he has his doubts.

🚬But when he has these bad thoughts you can see it on his face, it made you sad that he thinks you'd leave him for someone younger.

🚬Your response is making him some nice relaxing hot tea and cuddle him in a blanket whispering sweet words of love to him

🚬It lights his mood a bit.

🚬From time to time, Sanji's s/o gets jealous by the way he treats other women, you could be a little selfish just wanting him to only look at you in that way.

🚬You weren't surprised when you met his friends they care about Sanji as much as you did, they also loved you, finally happy that he got a lover so they could stop hearing his complaints about his single life.

🚬And they kinda use him for free meals. Especially Luffy the leader of their little friends group he always whines for meat, it kinda cute.

🚬You can't really ask Sanji for help in school work/homework, his a high school dropout. And the only thing he can actually help with is cooking classes which you hate. But at least your grades picked up in that class

🚬Sanji never let's you meet his biological family, he forbids the topic and avoids it at all cost. But couldn't wait for you to meet Zeff his adopted father, he literally dragged you to his childhood home to meet the old geezer.

🚬Zeff took you in the moment he met you and treated you like his own daughter/son, he also said "Finally I can rest in peace knowing you won't die alone." At Sanji.

🚬Which result in a small argument.

🚬Like Sanji you refuse to let him meet your parents, afraid they won't accept the relationship and force you apart. So you always give him the excuse that you want to wait or not ready yet.

🚬He respect your decision, and won't interfere or go behind your back. If you can wait so will he.

🚬Buttttttttt😱

🚬One night your Dad/Father decided that the family should go out to eat, give your mom/mother a little break from cooking.

🚬You agree to go aswell. Without knowing which restaurant.

🚬Guess where you went😏

🚬Yes... The Baratie!!!

🚬Your soul left your body. I mean Sanji should be off right ? Right ? Its weekend.

🚬But it got worse when you saw a glimpse of him in the kitchen and your eyes meet.

🚬What go worst that your Mom/Mother took a seat in Sanji's section of the restaurant.

🚬Meaning he will serve you.

🚬At this point you give up and just let it be, tonight your life as well as your relationship will come crashing down.

🚬Mindlessly sitting down, at that moment Sanji came bursting through the kitchen doors like a tornado heading towards you

🚬Wrapped his arms around you kissing you all over your face, right in front of your family.

🚬They where far beyond shock.

🚬By the time Sanji let's go of you, you looked like a morning person who just got out of bed, hair messy clothes messy and a blank look on your face.

🚬It didn't take long for them to start drowning you with questions.

🚬In the end you made sure to tell them,

"Mom/Mother Dad/Father, this is Sanji his the head chef of the Baratie, his also m-my boyfriend."

🚬Your mom/Mother got offended that your dating a professional cook, that is most likely better at cooking than her.

🚬Your Dad got offended that your dating someone older close to his age. (He can't really give the if you hurt my little girl/boy I will end you speech, the blonde must've heard it for a long time and just wouldn't be treated by it.)

🚬But they saw how worried you looked holding Sanji's hand tightly, the blonde seemed ready to start a argument if they would be against you two.

🚬In the end they smiled and nodded.

🚬Sanji and his s/o couldn't be more happy as instant took over and you two kissed passionately and long.

🚬Your Dad/Father had to clear his throat reminding you where you are.

🚬You broke apart blushing.

🚬It all ended up happy.

🚬Telling your parents weren't easy but now that you know that thier okay with your relationship made it easier to tell others.

🚬Let me tell you, Yes Sanji is older than you and everyone can tell that by his looks, so they just assume you guys are relatives or brothers/brother and sister.

🚬Sanji always corrects them, Your his lover not family member.

🚬That's when they turn to you asking if his black mailing you.

🚬You just simply say "No."

🚬You don't need to give others an explanation, knowing you two love each other very much.

🚬Despise Sanji's appearance you ignore his good looking hot abs and body and turn to his eyebrows and personally others make fun of how unnatural they are but they are the most lovable features on him that you like the most.

🚬Sanji smokes, and yes you know that. You never complain or ask him to stop, but you did ask him why he does, he simply just said "I started to smoke to piss off the geezer, I was just a stupid teenager at the time."

🚬You don't like cooking so that kinda got Sanji down, but you didn't mind helping out once in awhile.

🚬You love make overs dressing up and looking pretty. Which made him happy that he can share his okama side with you, you love doing his make up. aswell as styling his blonde wig.

🚬That's how he brought you to meet Iva one of his friends at the kamabakka night club.

🚬You really enjoyed it there and all the others you met.

🚬It was really fun seeing Sanji in his more feminine side and dress as a girl.

🚬It made you happy that he even share his most inner self with you.

🚬Sanji is really happy that you accept and love him for who he is.

🚬PDA *Public display of affection*

🚬Sanji is all over you hand holding, kissing, hugging even making out.

🚬He let's you hold hands and doesn't mind random kisses on his cheeks but he personally prefers his mouth over his cheeks.

🚬PDA kissing 😏~ One thing he loves is being taller than you, so when you want to give affection by kissing you have to stand on you tip toes and only able to reach his jawline.

🚬So you just kiss him from his jaw to his collarbone. Secretly leaving a mark😏~

🚬But when you go out with him dress as a Okama he doesn't let you kiss him much or hold hands but he doesn't mind locking arms with you.

🚬Just to know you're near, and save.

🚬He has one hell of a kick, You found out that out when you guys went out to a bar with Iva and some of his other friends (You didn't drink, being a minor and all but you did have a glass of soda or water).

🚬At some point Sanji got up to use the bathroom. And when he got back he saw a drunk guy harassing his s/o

🚬So with one hit he kicked the living hell out of the guy. (It didn't ended well for that guy, must've hurt more with the high heels boots Sanji's was wearing kicked him😵)

🚬And Sanji angrily dragged his s/o home early.

🚬It surprised you since Sanji wasn't really violent around you much, but knowing he'd even get into a fight to protect you. Made you happy and felt loved. He is the blonde cook you fell in love with after all.

***