#only when it’s obvious i haven’t set it up well enough for them to figure it out and they can’t progress without it

[leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad]

so instead of trying to get everyone together to play dnd and commit to a night per month or something, i’m going to have my sister and nephew create characters and then design them a short, casual adventure. i never really intended to be dm, but i’m a writer and also i have the most time and energy to do the harder bit of the setup. it’s also nice and low-pressure with just the three of us playing, so i’m not stressed. i’m having ideas! it actually sounds really fun to create the game for them to explore and keep it balanced and fun for them. now i just have to do everything and wait for the right timing to play, which shouldn’t take long

[frvnkcastles]

WILL YOU LOVE ME FOREVER ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re feeling insecure and Frank wants to reassure you.

Warnings: Body image issues, weight gain, feminine nicknames, fluff, language

Word count: 900

Author’s note: I haven’t posted anything in a hot minute because university is keeping me SO busy but I’ve been feeling a little down about my weight lately so I decided to write a little something about it. I gained a lot of weight after I started antipsychotics and even though they probably saved my life I really wish I had my old body. Maybe some day. Anyway, I know for a fact that Frank would be accepting of all bodies and not give a fuck about weight. <3

A frown was set heavy on your face as you stared at your reflection in the full-body mirror in your bedroom, your hands gliding down your figure as you assessed the situation. You had just gotten out of a shower and started dressing up, but you hadn’t made it past your underwear when you had caught a glimpse in the mirror and felt something dreadful and anxious weigh down on your chest.

Frank noticed quick enough — he was on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands, but as minutes ticked by with you spinning back and forth in front of the mirror, his attention drifted from the words on the pages and over to you. He saw the downcast look on your face, the tension in your knitted eyebrows and the incessant picking at your limbs, as if they’d change eventually.

”You okay, sweetheart?” he cleared his throat, and flinching, you snapped out of your thoughts and gave him a guilty look.

”Oh, yeah”, you mumbled with heat slithering into your cheeks because of being caught. Still, as you moved back to your closet to dig around for a shirt, Frank didn’t return to his book but kept his eyes glued on you, and you could feel his gaze even with your back turned to him. It made you feel all the more insecure, and quietly, you spoke up. ”Stop staring, Frank.”

With a low chuckle, he put his book on the bedside table and inched his frame to the very edge of the bed so he was closer to you. ”I can’t look at my girlfriend?” he hummed, and with a slight scoff, you continued to look for a top, but nothing felt right.

”I dunno what you find so worth looking at”, you argued against your better judgment, knowing very well that Frank wasn’t going to ignore your self-conscious comment.

His heart broke a little, in fact. ”Hey”, he spoke gruffly, forcing you to stop rummaging through your closet, and begrudgingly, you turned around to face him. ”Where’s this comin’ from, huh? Talk to me”, he encouraged, his dark eyes full of worry, even more so when you subconsciously brought your hands in front of you to hide your body from his attention.

”You don’t have to act like you haven’t noticed”, you muttered, but he only stared at you in confusion, earning a frustrated sigh from you. ”I’ve gained a lot of weight, Frank. It’s obvious”, you gestured at your body with a sad look deep in your eyes, before folding your arms in front of yourself again to hide your stomach from him.

Frowning, Frank pulled at your arms to unravel them and allow him to take your hands in his. ”It ain’t a bad thing, sweetheart. You’re still just as beautiful as ever”, he pointed out, but he could tell you didn’t believe him.

”I already feel like you’re so out of my league, and now this…”, you added quietly, casting a look down at your conjoined hands to avoid his eyes piercing into yours.

At your words, though, he couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. ”Out of your league? You gotta know that ain’t true, pretty girl. You’re gorgeous, everythin’ ’bout you. And you really think I care about your weight? C’mon, sweetheart, you know me better than that”, he insisted, trying to tilt his head low so he could catch your gaze.

You didn’t seem convinced, so with a sigh, he reached for your hips and pulled you in closer. ”Hey, I mean it. I wouldn’t change a thing ’bout you. I love you. I love your body. You’re sexy as hell, darlin’. But you’re also soft and lovely in all the right ways and I—I can’t get enough of ya”, Frank rambled away, his grip on you tightening as he admired you from head to toe.

”Thank you”, you whispered before turning back to the mirror and trying to see yourself in a more positive light. Frank didn’t hesitate to stand up behind you, his figure hovering above yours as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head.

”My gorgeous girl. Could look at you all day. Shit, you make me feel things I hadn’t in a long time, y’know that? You’re so much more than a number on the scale. That shit don’t matter. I love all of this”, he went on, running his hands across your belly and your thighs before settling back on your hips.

”If you didn’t have to go to work, I’d take my time and show you just how much I’preciate you”, he spoke lowly in your ear, the timber of his voice sending a shiver down your spine, and noticing, Frank broke into a grin. He kissed your temple and you finally cracked a smile of your own, making him feel successful in his mission to make you feel better.

”Thanks, Frankie. I love you”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank spun you around so he could tip your jaw up and lean down to kiss you tenderly. His lips met yours and you let your eyes fall shut as he kissed the air out of your lungs, always so dizzying and enchanting.

”I love you too, sweetheart. And when you get home tonight, I’mma make sure you know just how much.”

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 27

Part 26

For as long as King Edward had reigned over this land, no one had known him to take a lover, or even show any interest in anyone. Some time ago, a council had been adamant about him officially choosing someone to rule by his side and procuring an heir. They had been shut down and in time, their posts had been given to newer members, and that old watch had died out. King Edward had seen no need for such things. His life was long lived and he still had many years yet.

There had been no need to pick someone simply for the purpose of securing a royal line. It was him and only him.

And then some prince came along and changed everything. 

-----------------------

Robin’s leg swung off the bed while waiting for Steve. With a huff, he finally walked out of the bathroom. With a groan, she stood up. 

“Finally. Let’s go.”

“Hey, perfection takes time”, Steve said as they left his room.

Robin gestured at his entire body. “And you call this perfection?”

“Rude”, Steve said, starting to mess with his hair again. “It’s not like I have much to work with in there.”

“What are you talking about? Eddie gave you a whole hair dresser’s kit and yet you’re still not satisfied? Spoiled prince indeed”, Robin teased, no heed given to whom might overhear.

“Yes, well, brushes and oils can only do so much when I can’t even set them up properly”, Steve said, giving up on getting his hair just right. “What I truly require is a vanity.”

“Oh, but of course”, Robin rolled her eyes. It was so laughable to her that he could lament over such a thing when it was obvious how smitten Eddie was with him already. It was such a laugh that she shared it with Eddie one evening after going over resource allocations for the arts.

“A vanity. You’d think it was life’s greatest treasure the way he talked about it”, she snorted over a glass of chilled wine. 

“A vanity…”, Eddie trailed off, easily falling into a vision of Steve sitting before one, his beauty aids all arranged just so, taking his time to make himself even more radiant than he already was. He thought about the room Steve was in right now, stuck on one end of the castle, far from the other rooms and barren except for the necessities. 

It certainly wasn’t a place for someone being pursued by the king.

“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”, Robin said.

“You should know you’ll have my full attention whenever the little prince is concerned. Now tell me more about his vanity-less woes.”

Courtships could go any sort of way. It all depended on the pursuant and their target. But anyone who meant to truly woo their intended listened to both them and those around them to figure out what the most impactful gifts would be. Steve knew that Eddie was this sort after the last gift. He had never said directly what he wanted and yet it appeared.

So he had a feeling a vanity was in his near future. Or at the very least a very good mirror. Something akin to that.

When Eddie approached during one of Lucas’ lesson, Steve didn’t care how spoiled he might appear, stopping in the middle and running right over to him.

“Am I right to assume you have something for me?”, he asked twirling his sword before sheathing it.

“Perhaps, sweetling. But it is one I have to show before I give it to you”, Eddie said.

And didn’t that intrigue Steve. “You have to show it first?”

Eddie nodded, then looked to Lucas. “Do you mind if I steal your instructor away?”

“Go for it”, Lucas permitted.

“You still have ten minutes left”, Steve said. “That’s just enough time for three laps around the training ring and some squats.”

With that, he left his sword belt on a table and walked arm in arm with Eddie. Steve didn’t know why this alone felt so intimate. Eddie had literally caught him in more revealing states. And yet this was different, this touch was different. He wanted to put his head against Eddie’s shoulder and let him lead wherever he wanted.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me somewhere without a chaperone.”

“Now what sort of trouble could we get into in a hallway?”, Eddie asked.

“In my experience, plenty”, Steve lowered his voice to tease and was both surprised and delighted at the redness that bloomed on Eddie’s cheeks. “Wait, have you never-”

“And here we are!”, Eddie shouted when they reached a door. 

A nice door, but a door all the same. Steve wondered what could be behind it and how it related to whatever Eddie was giving him. But then Eddie opened the door and it was a bedroom. A guest room that looked unused with how everything was perfectly in place. As if it had all been arranged in preparation for a new resident. It was a stark cry from the room he was in right now. 

That room was livable, but small. This room had enough space for a lavish bed, a writing desk, a floor to ceiling window that opened up to a small balcony. Across the bed was a door that led to a bathroom, surely nicer than the one he currently had, but that was when Steve saw it. He walked in to get a closer look.

A vanity, clear, ready to be covered in all he might need. He sat down in the chair before it, taking in his reflection in the smooth glass. Not a mirror covered in hard streaks and old dust that made it nearly impossible to make out much of anything. It reminded him of the one he had back home. How he’d sit in front of one, anticipating a night of dancing in the ballroom or a secret tryst with whatever lover he had at the time.

Eddie came up from behind and smiled. “Do you like it?”

“Is it really mine?”, Steve asked, looking up at him.

“All yours. And that is not the only perk it comes with.”

“Oh?”

Eddie cleared his throat and took a step back. “It just so happens that this prime real estate is just down the hall from my own rooms.”

“How generous of you”, Steve said, coming to stand up and move closer to Eddie. They were truly alone now, not in the hallway anymore. And he couldn’t miss the insinuation that came from knowing the king would be sleeping just a few doors down. “It has occurred to me that I have yet to give you a gift of my own.”

His eyes flicked to Eddie’s lips as he moved impossibly closer, their bodies chest to chest. His lips were just an inch away-

“Ew! Gross!”, Mike screeched when he came into the room.

Eddie jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet but managing to catch himself. “Blazes Wheeler! Did no one ever teach you to knock!?”

“The door was open!”, Mike shot back. “I just came to tell you guys lunch was ready. Goddamn!” Mike left before his eyes could be defiled any more than they already were.

Eddie called out before he got too far. “Tell the kitchens to prepare a picnic for me!” Then he turned back to Steve. “If you would be so kind to accompany me.” He offered his arm, feeling warm when Steve linked up with him.

“I would love to.”

Part 28

a bit more sweetness before the bitter returns

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[pinazee]

First season wrap up:

Okay, to start, i should mention my general opinion on first seasons for shows, especially cable shows, is not to read too much of it as canon. The writers, producers, actors- everyone- are all trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t, so i give them latitude, particularly when it conflicts with later seasons. That being said, i do enjoy jumping through the hoops to make it all fit haha

So heres a few leftover notes i had as i revisited the eps to rank them:

I bet part of Lassie was craving the father figure in Henry, since we find out later his own father passed away when he was quite young. I wonder if thats part of the reason why he became a cop, as they are portrayed as the protectors and in the 80’s they were mainly men (i don’t really remember if he states his reason later, i suspect he did and im just not remembering). So when Henry didn’t meet up to the expectation he had in his mind, i bet it hurt a little more as it reminded him of what he lost :/

I think the other reason Shawn plays dumb so much, besides hiding his genius so ppl believe hes psychic, or for laughs, is because its how he gets people talking. Like in Shawn vs. the red phantom, he purposely guessed the wrong room number so the boys would correct him. My apologies if someones pointed this out before, i haven’t combed through the internet for everyone’s theories 😬 i only now noticed. I’m not the quickest at picking these things up lol

If i had to guess, Shawn didn’t want to be a cop for halloween, he probably wanted to be something star wars related to go with Gus’s Lando. So i wonder at what age Shawn stopped trying to please his dad. But also, why didn’t his mother ever stand up for him?? I’ll come back to her later -_-

I somehow missed it the first time, but shawn clearly asked Gus to come to the dinner and Gus even points out that it was a big deal for henry to reach out. Soo, yeah, shawn obviously didn’t wanna be alone with his dad, and even henry seemed nervous about it as hes pretty drunk.

Shawn has a right to be afraid of pointy things, his dad hid his easter eggs under glass when he was 6! Not to mention he later gets stabbed 3 times! (Also its just a legitimate fear???)

So far the list of Shawns knowledge (things i wouldn’t expect an average person to know) includes (beyond the obvious observational skills, deductive reasoning, reading people (poker), and all things police (marksmanship, police codes, etc.)):

Incredible spatial and physical reasoning skills (knowing how much money could fit in the duffle bag, knowing to rotate the water pitcher to catch the reflection from the tv)

Kurt Vonnegut (well, I didn’t know who he was at least)

How to spell aggiornamento (and probably all words because of his photographic memory)

Handwriting expert

Casually spoke and understood german

Has every road he’s driven mapped in his brain, and likely all of Santa Barbara

Familiar with paint (enough to know to mix latex enamel for no messy drips)

Animal tracks (i went back and forth on this but ultimately decided he must have known what to look for)

And heres a list of Gus’s niche interests:

Forensics

Spelling bee

Safe cracking

Historic rifles

Comic books

Astronomy (even though he was going to the planetarium for the girl)

Law

Local tennis

Online poker

Lastly, Ive decided instead of ranking them, im putting them in tiers. I feel like too many of them are hitting at the same level and I can’t differentiate:

Sweetest, Juiciest Golden Pineapple Tier

Scary Sherry, Biancas toast (ohmygod i just got the biancas toast 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Blue Psych Logo Tier

Weekend warriors

Forget me not

From the earth to starbucks

Poker? I hardly know her! (Sorry @pineapple-psychic!)

Pepto Bismo Pink Tier

Spelling bee

Pilot

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me oops hes dead

Who ya gonna call?

Shawn vs the red phantom

Oops Canadian Flag Tier

Cloudy with a chance of murder

9 lives

Game set muuurder

Speak now or forever hold your piece

Woman seeking dead husband, smokers okay, no pets

[anonzentimes]

Hi there! I stumbled across your blog randomly, and I’m so glad I did. I’ve gotten into DR recently and I’ve been hooked on Nagito’s character for many of the reasons you are! I’ve already read a few of your analyses and I love them, it’s amazing getting more insight into one of my favorite DR characters from someone who really understands him!

I’m not sure if you’ve already done this, but if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you can do an analysis on just how fucking smart Nagito is? I think he’s one of the most intelligent and observant characters in DR2. I’m rewatching DR2 and bro lk carries the trials with his hints, a lot of times it seems he figured out the culprit before anyone else. That’s not even mentioning the entirety of Chapter 5!

Sorry if this is a weird ask, it’s an aspect of Nagito’s character that I personally don’t really see talked about too much (then again I haven’t been in the fandom for that long lol) I’d love to hear your thoughts! Thanks again for all your lovely analyses!

I’d just like to start this out by saying sorry it’s taken me a while to answer this, I like to articulate big stuff like this when I’m able to and less tired (at my best) so apologies for the wait!

Thank you so much! I’m really happy you enjoy my rambles, especially as someone who just got into the series! I’m honored to be told I understand him by so many people since he means so much to me. Your request actually hasn’t been asked before so don’t worry! I’ll try my best to express that Nagito is Really Smart, and god Is he Really smart.

I don’t know why he ended up so intelligent, but I like to believe that from thinking so much and forming his beliefs it caused him to be pretty smart. That paired with the obvious life experiences that his luck gives him, and just being born with that type of mind results in him being pretty smart. Honestly I want to say I think Nagito is a very emotionally strong character for going so much trauma and still at the end of the day being able to form a coping mechanism and live on, or if you want to put it into other words to be able hold onto hope despite everything. But of course, too much of anything is a bad thing and over time it becomes obsessive and unhealthy as we can see. He’s also extremely tragic in that sense as well. But anyways, that’s all just to say I think Nagito’s insane life experience helped him become smarter. He also seems to read as a hobby, given how there are an immense amount of books in his cottage. If I recall he also spends a lot of his time at the library on the island usually, but the books in his room are already enough to support the fact he reads anyways. This is to say I’m sure his intelligence is also helped by how he reads lots of books.

So far this has all been my thoughts on how Nagito became to be such a smart person, but now I want to talk about some of the things he actually does with it. For starters, I feel like there’s something to be said about how he through living his unfortunate life understands he has luck and uses it to his advantage. He views himself in a very negative way that isn’t entirely setting himself to the standard of the talentless, not that he’d ever be outright aggressive to the talentless, or with the talented to him he’s in this worthless middle ground. He’s low enough where he would criticize the talentless for being too bold or not being a stepping stone given the hierarchy be believes in, but he also isn’t entirely equivalent given he does have a talent. He just believes his talent is awful because it has given him so much trauma and more so killed everyone he’s ever loved, but even so he uses it to his advantage and uses it as “the one thing he’s capable at,” although he would never use it for selfish reasons given how selfless he is. This is all to say that he’s incredibly smart for not only recognizing this, but coming up with plans and ways to achieve his goals by using his own luck. It’s his thing, be believes it’s awful and by extension he is worthless himself, but it’s the thing he has and he uses it, trusts it, and relies on it whole heartedly. He’s able to achieve his goals by abusing his luck, and the plans he comes up with to use his luck to get an outcome he wants showcases just how Intelligent he really is constantly. In Danganronpa 3 when he wants to postpone the test because he wants everyone to be at their best, he comes up with an entire plan for multiple options if some of them fail to get what he wants to achieve. He knows due to his luck that he will get what he wants by following through with any of these plans, and thinks of possible ways he can get what he wants. In Chapter 1 of Danganronpa 2 he relies on his luck, figures out what to do, and plans everything out using his intelligence. His good luck directly impacts him while his bad luck usually impacts everybody else unless it has nobody to go after, so in that case his plan technically doesn’t work like how he hoped but he still got what he wanted in the end. Nagito is able to also entirely clear the final dead room easily with his intelligence, and again relies on his luck because he’s smart enough to understand how his own luck works to use it. The biggest display of intelligence probably is the entire suicide he plans out, I don’t think I even have to say much on it for the point to be conveyed that he’s INCREDIBLY smart for being able to come up with something so elaborate. Just like the things i’ve mentioned here, he trusts his luck in the process. But the way that his plan doesn’t work, the way that it fails unexpectedly is that Hajime despite being so conflicted is able to finally not put it aside and use his understanding of Nagito to put himself in his shoes, see the world how he thinks, and solve the case. He has to trust in Nagito’s luck like Nagito does, something that he couldn’t have accounted for, to solve the case. That’s one of the major reasons Chapter 5 is so amazing, we have to trust his luck just like he does to get to the bottom of things. Even so, all of these things are a testament to just how smart he really is. This isn’t even mentioning how he’s smart enough to know things about the case, help out, but not fully solve it for them because his goals center around seeing the ultimates shine and be more capable than he can be, at least he believes he can’t be as capable but his beliefs are what actually hold him back. He is incredibly smart and this is shown time and time again, he is a wonderful character and his intelligence is only one aspect that contributes to how amazing and interesting he is.

He’s incredibly observant as well. He’s more observant than he is able to fully grasp social cues, or more so due to his absolute beliefs it prevents him from fully grasping other people’s perspective and his trauma making him more numb results in difficulty coming off as he intends to mostly when he’s at his worst or coping. For this reason he is usually the outcast but doesn’t understand the true reason he is hated and just thinks it’s because of the factual hierarchy, his absolute beliefs, he doesn’t usually comprehend things that center around them not being believed or being factual and is conflicted or frustrated when things put them into question or go against it. I try to explain this and bring it up because he relies on observation of people’s reactions more than anything. He is extremely observant in general and he uses his observations especially in social situations to help himself. Even when he doesn’t understand the reason why or feels it is an out of place reaction because he doesn’t fully understand the other’s perspective, he can absolutely observe other people fully. This is mostly just an add on to everything else in my massive statement to express how smart he is, but I just want to mention how observant he is. It helps him with solving cases and social situations extremely often. It also is shown how absolute his beliefs are by how his observations sometimes confuse him or cause him to feel as if the hierarchy is proven right because he cannot see it as anything but fact because he is so far gone. Most people believe in the hierarchy subconsciously but he believes in it as fact and is more expressive and honest in general as a person. Anyway, again, just main point here is he’s incredibly observant.

Hopefully this is a good short summary or way to express how intelligent he is, if there’s anything more you’d like me to cover about his intelligence that you think I missed or didn’t summarize well enough let me know! Sorry again that this has taken a while. Side note: I’m just posting this without revising it much, so I may edit it later or remove typos but for the most part if there’s any weird wordings or typos sorry about that, haha! I don’t have the time to revise it at the moment.

Thank you for your ask!!! <3

[sylviesoothsayer22]

Well Matched - Chapter 2

Hyacinthus orientalis

Summary: Wei Wuxian spent the past year and a half terrorizing the cultivation world. Slowly cracking at the foundations until most of the clans were forced to give up chasing him. Only one person was mad enough to confront the newborn Calamity. Uncaring that Wei Wuxian simply wants to move on with his afterlife and pursue his new purpose in peace.

Link to Chapter One if you haven't read it yet: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviesoothsayer22/767249587576651776/well-matched-chapter-1?source=share

Author's Note: First off, I'd like to preface this chapter by stating that I have absolutely nothing against Jiang Cheng. I actually find him to be one of MXTX's most complex characters and his tragic story was excellently written. I re-read MDZS for this fic and took note of how JC constantly dogs WWX's steps like a man-possessed (after THIRTEEEN YEARS of processing), just so he can make WWX pay for his crimes. In this verse, it's only been around two years since WWX's death. So, it wouldn't make sense for JC to NOT try and confront WWX. Calamity or not. I haven't written a lot of angst in the past and my opinions on both JC and WWX's actions might have bled into this chapter. That being said, if you have a problem with the chapter or how it was written, please let me know in the comments so that I can improve in the future.

Jiang Cheng made another attempt to circulate his spiritual energy through his meridians.

He couldn’t feel the energy flow.

Why?! His meridians weren’t damaged in any way and he knew the bastard didn’t drain him. 

He gritted his teeth and, once more, thrashed against the bindings that secured him to a tree. Uncaring of the thorns digging into his already torn skin.

The sound of a twig snap echoed through the forest clearing. He opened his eyes and glared at the source.

Above him were unconscious Jiang disciples and hunting dogs hanging from the branches of the tree he was tied to. Green tinted mist swirled around the clearing and the figure at the centre of it all was looking back at him with an empty grin. 

“You….” Jiang Cheng breathed out, enraged. 

“Me.” His former martial brother responded. 

He carelessly dropped the immortal binding nets he was holding and set them on fire with a flick of his finger. 

Jiang Cheng gnashed his teeth at the ghost’s casual attitude. 

“Did you think that I was gonna fall for such an obvious trap?” Wei Wuxian tutted. “Haven’t all the other clans given up by now?”

It was true. Any cultivator who came close to the newborn ghost would be met with misfortune. Sometimes he drained their cores and broke their meridians to the point that they’ll never be able to cultivate again. Other times he would simply curse their spiritual weapon or had them outright destroyed. The most gruesome was when the ghost sent hired rogue cultivators back to their clients maimed, disfigured beyond recognition or in pieces.  

It didn’t stop at direct attacks either. Whenever the Calamity got particularly irritated, dizi music would start echoing near sect territories, followed by their properties mysteriously catching fire and an uptick in monster activity within the forests surrounding Golden Carp Tower, Impure Realm, Lotus Pier, and Cloud Recesses.

The minor sects had become reluctant to pursue the matter further, regardless of their superiors’ wishes. It was theorized that Wei Wuxian had also been in contact with many low-ranked cultivators, as talented disciples withdrew from their clans without explanation and there was a great decline in new recruits. No one with an ounce of self-preservation wanted to take up cultivation if it meant that they would come face-to-face with the Yiling Lazou at some point. The ghost had become an even bigger legend than before and people have bestowed him the title “Black Flute Summons Disasters". 

Jin Guangshan, through the urging of Jin Guangyao, withdrew his clan from the manhunt. Their argument? All the sects’ resources were stretched too thin and it’s best that they cut their losses. Also, they reasoned, the Yiling Lazou seems to only act out when provoked. It was next to impossible to track him down and he doesn’t seem to cause harm other than in self-defense. How long will he tolerate their actions before he snaps and goes on another rampage? It had almost been a thousand years since the cultivation world had to worry about a Calamity. This was beyond them. Leave it for the gods to decide. 

No one was brave enough to state the fact that the Jin clan was the one bearing the brunt of Wei Wuxian’s attacks. 

Lan Xichen supported Jin Guangyao’s actions by having the Lan clan withdraw as well, which forced the Nies to follow. Much to Lan Wangjie’s alleged protests and Nie Mingjue’s clear dissatisfaction over having a powerful spirit running amok. The Jiangs were the only clan that refused to drop the matter. 

They chased rumour after rumour. Anything that could give them a clue on the Yiling Lazuo’s whereabouts. Most were farfetched and few were credible. They eventually heard from a reliable source that Wei Wuxian had been prowling up and down a nameless mountain in the far south for nearly a week now. Longer than he would typically stay in one place. Jiang Cheng and his disciples went there and set up traps for the elusive ghost. 

Which is what led to the sect leader’s current predicament. 

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Hmm? Oh, don’t bother reaching for Zidian. The mist is blocking the flow in your meridians. Not to worry. The effects are temporary.” He gracelessly plops himself on a nearby boulder and drops his smile.

“Let’s talk. What do you want from me, Jiang Wanyin?”

Somehow, the way the question was phrased infuriated the sect leader. As if Wei Wuxian was the one who had been wronged! He barked out a harsh laugh and replied:

“I want back the lives you’ve stolen and to end Jin Ling’s torment, but you can’t give me that. I’ll just have to settle for you kneeling at my parents’ altar in penitence before ending you myself!” Wei Wuxian let out a snort at that.

“A ghost asking the dead for forgiveness? That’s a good one.”

Jiang Cheng felt his rage reach a boiling point.

All traces of cruel humour left Wei Wuxian’s face.

“What’s it going to take for you to leave me be? Haven’t I already repented with my death?” He asked, expressionlessly.

“Not even close. I lost everything because of you. One death hardly accounts for all the sins you’ve committed.” Jiang Cheng growled.

Not everything. Wei Ying thought. You still have her boy and yet here you are. Stuck in the past.

“Then what would you have me do? You’ve already denounced me from the Jiang Clan, you led the siege that resulted in my demise, you stabbed me and helped in the slaughter of the people I swore to protect. Is that not enough for you?” He pressed.

Just forget about me, Jiang Cheng. Please….

“You have the nerve to play the victim now?!”

Wei Wuxian felt his own frustrations rise to the surface. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

“The only one playing the victim here is you.” He retorted. “I’m well aware that the real victims are the ones who were forced to bear the consequences of my actions.”

“So, now you choose to acknowledge Jin Ling?”

“I wasn’t talking about Jin Ling. I was talking about the Wens under my protection.” He opened his eyes again, coldly staring at Jiang Chang.

“Remember Wen Qing? The one you owed a life debt to? You could have at least requested the other clans to grant her a more humane execution. And as for the others…. I know I warranted my own death after Nightless City. But why did the Wen Remnants have to die?” He hissed out the last question. Infuriated all over again at the mere thought.

Jiang Cheng could not believe Wei Wuxian’s sheer gall.

“Even in death…. you still have the nerve to defend those dogs?” He breathed out disbelievingly. Wei Wuxian felt himself snap.

Of course, his hatred of the Wens still hasn’t abated! What was I even thinking?!

“Dogs?” Wei Wuxian sneered. “Is it fair of you to call people who had no part in that fucking war, dogs? Is it fair of you to look at the suffering of the elderly, women and children and simply say they deserved it? To this day, the sects keep posturing about how righteous and just they are, but in the end, you’re all just a bunch of hypocrites who didn’t even blink at the death of a child!”

That startled Jiang Cheng.

“A child…?”

“I’m talking about A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian seethed. He pushed back the images of when he first found the boy’s corpse after the Siege and continued. “Remember him? Oh, right. I forgot. In your eyes, anyone named Wen is less than dirt. My mistake.” He stood up and took several steps back, taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down. Gods, he felt so tired.

“You threw your lot in with them and shacked up at the Burial Mounds. Even if you hadn’t slaughtered everyone in Nightless City, did you honestly think that you would’ve been left alone?! Was there a plan on how to protect the Wens or did you think all your problems would just go away on their own? The only person you have to blame is yourself!” Wei Wuxian tried not to react at his words.

Ah! Jiang Cheng.... You always knew where to hurt.

This ‘discussion’ wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Was he the idiot for hoping that they would find some kind of compromise?

“Is it even possible for you to let me go…?”

“….No.”

Wei Wuxian laughed harshly. He pulled out his flute and started to play a low and melodious tune. Wei Ying watched expressionlessly as Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in realization before they started bleeding. He struggled even more viciously against his bindings, but eventually his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His former shidi's head slumped forward as he fell unconscious.

Wei Ying lowered his flute and let out a sigh. He felt a familiar presence hovering next to him.

“What is it, Wen Qing?” He asked without looking at the woman’s direction.

A ghostly green firefly flew into his line of sight. It took on the vague apparition of a woman before solidifying into the doctor he knows. As a ghost, her clothes were dirtied by soot and ash. Her skin took on a greenish-grey hue typically found among average ghosts. The healer sported burn marks and blackened limbs. Most of the burns were on her lower abdomen and legs. She died from smoke inhalation before the fire spread to the rest of her body.

“Are we just going to leave them like this?” She asked softly. He shrugged in response.

“They’ll be knocked out for the next few days. When they wake up, we’ll be long gone.” Depending on their luck, they will have found the fabled Ghost City and will be let in or they’ll be occupying a new haunt. He changed the subject:

“Did you find the entrance?” She shook her head.

“It keeps reappearing and disappearing, but we’re sure it’s there. What do you think it means?”

“Maybe Crimson Rain is picky with his visitors?” Wei Ying mused aloud. “Either way, we still have two more days of the Zhongyuan Festival before Ghost Market closes.” She nodded and then asks the question he’d been dreading.

“What happens if we can’t get in?” Wei Wuxian felt himself tense before relaxing.

“Then…. we go with our second option.”

“But you don’t know if it will work.”

“I’ll make it work! I’ll protect you all this time. I promise.” Wen Qing gave him a look of concern.

“We believe you.” She reassured gently. “Just please.... don’t push yourself.”

Wei Ying offered her a tense smile before turning away.

“I’ll check on the others. Notify me immediately of any changes.” She nodded although he couldn’t see it. Wei Wuxian was about to leave when she said:

“Don’t let Jiang Wanyin’s words get to you. You did your best.”

He didn’t acknowledge her words and continued on his way.

I appreciate your kind words, Wen Qing. I really do. But you’re wrong about that.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his destination. A vast field of red spider lilies spread out before him. Soft and vibrant beneath the moonlight. Above the flora, many fireflies languidly flew around. Dipping and bobbing as they pleased. A few of the smaller fireflies appeared to be chasing each other in the air. Wei Ying felt himself relax at the sight. He sighed and flopped down on the flower field. Uncaring of the petals floating in the air because of his disturbance. He held out a finger and one of the smaller fireflies landed on it.

“Hi, A-Yuan.” He whispered softly. “Did you have fun with your friends while I was away?” The little firefly bobbed its body up and down enthusiastically.

He patiently listened to the ghost-child's chattering, before gently flicking him away and urging the little guy to go play with the others.

Feeling his eyelids becoming heavy, Wei Wuxian closed them. Just for a few minutes, he told himself.

I want my parents back…

Come back to Gusu with me…

A-Li…still waiting for you…

A-Xian, stop…. You have to stop first. Don’t… Don’t…

He could feel a strange light flicking back and forth through his closed lids. Wei Wuxian cracked them open. Vaguely aware that he cried in his sleep. He was met with the sight of a silver butterfly hovering above his face.

The strange creature gently landed on his nose.

Chapter End.

Further Notes:

*Timeline: It's now been two years since the Siege. WWX spent approximately six months reforming as a ghost and gaining followers at the Burial Mounds. He then spent the next year and a half doing what was mentioned in the chapter above.

*Hyacinthus orientalis: better known as purple hyacinth. The flower symbolizes deep sorrow, jealousy, grief and asking for forgiveness. I'd say it sums up the Yúnmèng brothers' relationship perfectly.

*Zhongyuan Festival: Ghost or Spirit Festival. In this verse, there's a myth that Ghost City's entrance only appears to newcomers during the festival and WWX decided to see if it's true for himself.

*WWX wasn't aware that JC DID in fact speak up for WQ.

*WWX decided to use subterfuge and fear tactics in order to buy time as he waits for the Zhongyuan Festival to come around. He didn't want to outright confront the sects, but he's not above messing around with them.

*In this verse, WWX is PISSED at the sects/clans (and himself) for the Wen massacre and how it was pushed under the rug. He vowed to leave that world behind and protect the Wens' spirits with everything that he has. Most of that drive stems from the trauma where he found A-Yuan's body after he became a ghost. I'll delve into that in later chapters. (Yes, I killed A-Yuan in this verse. Really sorry, but I couldn't stand him being separated from WWX).

Also, the Four Calamities are akin to semi-true folktales in this verse. Hence why the characters know some vague information about Ghost City, when did the last Calamity appear, etc.

There was just..... so much yelling in this chapter. Jiang Cheng is such a bitter and angry man. I hope I didn't make him too OOC. Hua Cheng will appear in the next chapter. Promise.

Hope you enjoyed it!

Many thanks~

[fiannalover]

bweirdOCtober day 7: Likes - Gardening

Exchanging her usual clothes for overalls and loose hair for a ponytail, Medeia calmly fixed the ground around her latest project. Ever her faithful companion, Argo laid down next to her, waiting patiently save for the occasional yip.

“Don't worry. I'm almost done.” She said, using her elbow to mess with him a bit, since her hands would get him dirtied by her gloves.

Eventually, a looming shadow announced someone else's presence. “So? What is this one?”

“Parsley. Just got some, so figured I might as well add it to my part of the garden.” Medeia explained.

“Your side is incredibly well-kept, given you have only been here for a couple months.” He remarked. “Aren't you taking this too seriously?”

“Plants are an important ingredient to many potions and medicines, aren't they, uncle Jack?” She asked, flashing that smile she showcased when she knew she was right. “I have to make sure I take care of the root of my creations. In fact, I’m planning on using some of them as mulch to increase the quality of future harvests. That should make our work reach the utmost quality.”

“Careful. Don’t make a videogame loop out of your skills.” He warned.

She chuckled, but replied. “What? Aren’t you the one who says one must always seek further knowledge?” Unnoticeable to her, he grew a little quieter upon hearing that. “Plants settle down their roots, grow and bring their successors into the world as they feed us and die. I like helping them prosper, is all.”

“... Yeah. There is nothing wrong with that. But now, come on. It’s gonna be night before long. Let’s get back in, shall we?” The wizard suggested.

Agreeing, his niece got up, stretched and called forth her energetic corgi. “Alright! Come here, Argo! Let’s go, boy!”

-------

This place was secluded. Medeia wouldn’t have found it without a stroke of luck.

Golden apples, glowing softly under the sun, ethereal sight that required human hands to thrive. In this grotto purposefully hidden away from her sight and their garden, she saw remnants of mane, ore and other materials she had obtained for him.

Argo laid down by her side, steps tired. He still kept up with her wonderfully, but it was obvious it was growing tougher for her loyal companion to do so.

This was it, then.

“We have seen enough, haven’t we?” Squatting, the wizard’s niece opened her arms, letting her dog settle in. Getting up, she announced. “Come on. There is nothing for us here.”

-------

Lucas cautiously looked at the potted plants that had popped up at his new flat, sandy ears twitching in curiosity. “Hey, Medeia. What are those?”

Taking off her headphones, his roommate got up to see what he was talking about and replied. “Oh. Um, sage, lavender, jasmine. Sorry, I made sure not to pick anything you’re allergic to, but I still should have checked first. Are you okay with them?”

“Yeah! They’re pretty. I just didn’t know this was something you knew how to do.”

Confidently (some would say smugly), she announced. “A good potion maker gets her materials straight from the source whenever possible! Helps learn about their characteristics and also avoid taking them for granted. I actually have an agreement with the agriculture people to make use of their greenhouses, but I felt like getting some potted plants for home care.”

Watching them some more, Lucas asked. “Could you teach me the basics of, like, gardening?”

“Hum? I mean, you don’t have to. I can take care of them by myself no problem.”

“I know that. But, one must always learn more, right? Maybe this will be handy for me in the future.” He argued.

At that point, she smiled. “Well said, Lu. Come here. Let’s start with the matters of watering…”

-------

Exchanging her usual clothes for a brand new set of gardening gear the village tailor kindly made for her, Medeia calmly fixed the ground around her latest project.

“What are you doing?” The village's guardian asked her. His spear was always by his side, but his tone of voice and his body language, including his tail, left it clear that this visit was fueled by curiosity and nothing else.

“Hi, Vri! I decided I might as well take up gardening again. Just planted some rosemary.” She said, then, content with what she organized, got up, stretched, and proceeded to admit a thing or two. “I’ve been living a nomad lifestyle since I left college, pretty much, so I haven’t done this in a while. If I’m gonna be confined to this other realm, I might as well make the most of it.”

“That is how most newcomers here decide to see their situation. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Looking over the small plot of land she was caring after, he offered. “Would you want me to water them for you?”

“Water from a Rain Dragon? Now that would be a blessing upon the harvest.” Medeia exclaimed. “Are you sure that is fine? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It is perfectly fine. I do this for the farmers here quite often. Besides, consider this an investment. We have a partnership, don’t we, folk healer? I’m sure this will help the villagers plenty.” He friendly remarked.

“Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Very well, go ahead!”

Putting his spear in front of him, Vri focused his natural magic, coating his brown skin with a glow the same shade of blue as his hair and scaled tail. Soon, small raindrops condensed into the air ahead of him, softly falling to the ground.

This wasn’t half-bad, Medeia thought. Maybe someday she would settle down for good again.

-------

The years went by, and the potion maker stepped out of her house.

Her body didn’t quite agree with great adventures anymore, so retirement came at a good time. A small abode, decently near a village that could only very charitably be called a town, granting her that ‘weird grandma in the middle of the woods’ vibe that fit so perfectly on her.

Prepare the earth, spread the seeds, apply mulch. Alongside permanent residence, old hobbies returned to mind. She had seen much of the world. Now, it was time to sit down, settle roots and feed those who’d come after her. 

Checking the parts of her garden that were already blooming, she gathered a handful of thyme, and, humming softly, went back inside.

[itsnotjustgibberish]

Hello tumblr

I Infodumped about my D&D HMS/CCCC au, Also known as Dungeons and Darrells, in the CJFS so I might as well post it here too :]

The tag is #dungeons & darrells au

Anyways starting off with classes/races,

Heart is a Fallen Aasimar who's multiclassing as a Lunar Sorcerer and Oath of Vengeance Paladin.

Mind is an Envoy Warforged who's multiclassing as a Storm Sorcerer and Undying Light Warlock.

Soul is a Scourge Aasimar w/ warforged parts who's multiclassing as an Aberrant Mind Sorcerer and a Glamour bard

Whole is/was a Half-elf Valor Bard

LORE SUMMARY

Their memories seem rather blurry starting out. (Modify Memory my love…]

The trio knows they were once part of the same Whole. They also remember the fighting between Heart and Mind, and those tensions certainly haven’t been forgotten.

Soul tells the others he knows where Whole is, and they set off to find him, with already very obvious tensions and infighting developing.

…Is Whole a physical being that actually exists, or is this just a common goal Soul made up to stop- or at least detour- the other two from killing each other?

...Well anyways, they set off on their adventure.

Tensions are immediately high. Heart and Mind bicker constantly, and it doesn’t take long for the insults to get more and more personal as the rift in their core beliefs grows.

Soul is able to stop them by reminding them of their goal of finding Whole, and he continues to focus on trying to force them to understand eachother.

Weeks, and months pass and their fights continuously become more physical, which leads to Soul having to “mediate” through threats.

Heart and Mind both begin to believe Whole will be better off without the burden of the other, but while Mind tries to turn him complacent through insulting and berating him words, Heart wants to try a more physical, and permanent solution.

Heart prepares his bow, and leads Mind out away from Soul one night.

Juno was mad, he knew he’d been had, so he shot at Apollo with a bow… But listen to this-

There’s not much you can do when you roll a Nat 1.

Juno misses, horribly.

While passing through a town the trio had stolen a potion that allows the user to teleport, but the location and range they end up is randomized. Mind, in a mix of panic and rage, uses the potion on Heart by... literally just throwing it at him, and, oh- Funny how devastating it can be to roll a Nat 20.

(Eye injury)

The glass shatters over Heart's face, and quite unfortunate it now was that he took off his blindfold to try and help his aim. Sure, the thin cloth wouldn't have done all that much, but anything would be better than directly getting broken glass in your eyes.

The effects of the potion take place and Heart is teleported about a two weeks' journey away, as well.

Soul hears some of the commotion and witnesses Heart disappear, and is, obviously, very angry and concerned. Mind and Soul argue for a bit, before Mind is able to calm him down and explain what Heart tried to do.

Soul insists that they find Heart again. They find a higher level spellcaster to cast Scrying for them, and figure out where he is.

Failing so pathetically already would've made Heart feel powerless enough, but that immediately followed by isolation effects them even worse.

(Did you know that you actually only need to show consistent symptoms for two weeks before you can be diagnosed with depression?)

During those two weeks Mind is very confident and proud of itself for "Bringing justice to Heart."

{It takes everything in Soul not to rip out whatever mechanical bits let him speak}

Then they reunite with Heart, and Mind sees how truly devastating this isolation has been on him.

He feels- No, there's no reason he should be feeling guilty for them. Heart tried to kill him, and he got his karma for it... right?

Things between Heart and Mind are incredibly quiet for the next while.

They eventually start to talk more, but it usually leads to arguing or awkward tension. At least that means they're more comfortable with each other again, as Soul tries to convince himself.

Soul stays very protective over them both after All That, and is terrified to leave them alone together, which prevents them from truly getting the chance to try and fully talk anything out.

As they continue with their travels Heart and Mind continue to be forced to work together, and they start to bond. At some point they get temporarily separated from Soul and have a heart-to-uh, mind.

Things are fairly uneventful bonding/communication-wise, and there aren't many other huge events for some time, but the three of them continue to slowly build up their friendship, and put in the effort to understand one another.

Eventually they get to a point where they're all actually super close! Heart and Mind still bicker at times, but they're able to work it out, and it never gets too intense. If anything, the two of them are closer with eachother than with Soul, for once.

For once they're happy, they're getting along, and they're excited to finally meet and reform as Whole.

Until

0110110001101001011000010111001000101110

...They finally stop arguing and the group splits in two. Heart and Mind stay together, devastated and furious, and Soul goes off on his own.

Soul feels incredibly lost, it knows why the other two are angry at him- they should be, they have every right to. But no matter how much he knows he deserves this, that doesn't stop it from hurting.

So he does the only thing he knows in times like these; they put on a smile and plays his music.

He wanders aimlessly through a couple different towns as he plays. They often find a couple other bards, and they play together. Duets, quartets, small groups... He can never bring himself to play in a trio.

In one of the towns he plays a couple times as usual, but this time one of the members, a chicken aarakocra, starts talking with him outside of the shows.

Despite the cheerful mask Soul tries to put on, the chicken sees right through it, and he eventually drops the act. They start to open up to the other bard, who's name he learns is Darrell, and they're both able to find a lot of comfort in eachother. They get along super well, and become good friends quickly.

Soul still thinks about and feels super guilty over his other two friends, and with the encouragement of Darrell, they build up enough courage to search for them again. It's absolutely terrified of seeing the duo, it's terrified to have to see how he hurt them again, but through all his worries they never consider how, despite their pain, Heart and Mind never wanted to be angry at them.

During all this, Mind and Heart have spent a lot of time discussing their thoughts on Soul after everything. They take the time feel and and accept their anger, and agree to go find it again. They still really care about him, after all.

…

There's certainly more after this, and more I've left out between all the events mentioned here since I enjoy being cryptic, but for now, enjoy!

[cloud-somersault]

Hey, how are you doing? I hope you’re alright. 💕 I’ve been reading your status updates on Constellations and the Epilogue, and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing. Your writing is incredible and I love it. Your stories are so well thought out and the characters are ✨on point✨, and the plot is complex and detailed and aaahhh! It has me hooked! 🤩

And I understand how it hurts when you put so much effort and love into a story, only to post it and not see others be anywhere near as excited or invested as you are. I know how discouraging it can be. And it may be a little silly, but I do want to apologize for not commenting lately—life took some difficult turns for me healthwise around the end of last year and I haven’t been able to catch up! I’m still on Chapter 4 of Constellations! 😭 BUT Chapter 5 is open on my phone, and I am READY to read it as soon as I have the time (and mental energy, but that’s a whole ‘nother issue 😩). Don’t worry that your writing isn’t enough, or be discouraged if some readers don’t catch hints while others are figuring it all out seemingly too easily. Everybody reads and comprehends stuff differently, and it’s not a sign that your writing is bad if they don’t catch it! Honestly, I’m pretty bad at catching hints the first time I read a story unless they’re pretty darn obvious. I don’t usually notice subtle hints until the second, or third, or even seventh read-through, haha! (on the bright side, rereading stories and rewatching TV shows is always fun!) 😅

I guess what I really wanted to say is… don’t give up hope. Don’t lose your love and enthusiasm for your works, or feel like they aren’t worth writing because others don’t seem interested in them. At the heart of it all… at the end of the day… write because you love to. Because it makes you happy. And know that it doesn’t have to be “perfect”—the main goal should be that you enjoy it. That’s something I’m trying to teach myself, too. 💕

Thank you for taking the time to write this message and send it. I appreciate you're very kind words 💕I'm doing okay, I just had to take a step back for a bit from socials and stuff. I'm gonna keep that up for a while.

Please don't apologize for not commenting or taking your time reading. Your health always comes first, and I'm sorry if I came off as childish or needy, that wasn't my intention. Two things just happened that set me off and the timing of it was incredibly poor 😓

Please take your time reading; none of it is going anywhere, and don't feel obligated to leave comments either. i'm realizing that, even if chapters are short or long, finding the time to finish things is difficult, and everyone lives different lives. And I'm sorry about all the spoilers on this blog, I'll tag that better from now on.

But I really do think I got confused or disjointed in my perceptions; everyone here knows so much because i've been asked questions and given answers and people have interacted, so people following me here have more context than the average ao3 user. But I've kinda been expecting everyone to be on the same page, which will never be true.

I'm also the same way where it takes me a while to pick up on hints. I actually changed my writing style to prevent this. I got tired of reading books in college where you had to dive into every little thing. the hints and clues weren't obvious to me. I decided then that, when I wrote, I wanted things to be bold, obvious, but beautiful. I didn't want to make readers feel like they're missing something. I wanted them to trust that every answer, every clue would be answered in time. I made that promise to myself a decade ago, and being reminded of how different people interpret things just...made me remember.

I take writing really seriously, probably too seriously, but I've been doing it for so long and I love doing it. I want to be good at it. When it feels like I've gone back on that promise to myself, I get frustrated. I think of ways I could've fixed things. But I also remember that those books and those writing styles just weren't for me. I wasn't the target audience.

Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I wanted to explain why I got upset. I still love Constellations and I'm posting it on ao3 out of convenience, really. It's easier to reference and search there in one "Entire Work" than to have 5 documents open. The fact that others can see and read and have fun is a bonus. But I'm committed to telling this story, and I'm gonna finish with a bang.

Thank you, I won't forget why I'm doing this and that my thoughts/feelings come first! 😤I hope your health concerns are taken care of soon. Take it easy, and thanks again! 💕

[crystallizedday]

Quest – Rekindled (Part 1 of 5)

Level 31 – Easy

How did he end up like this?

Demongo rested atop one of these many KND-branded crates, letting his legs swing aimlessly as he surveyed the rest of the Huntor’s Crest campsite. For weeks, the only company he had were the various monkey minions that decided to make this area their little shelter, a sanctuary safe from the prying eyes of those DexLabs dolts. At the time, Demongo felt genuine relief to be in the company of those who saw him as a “fellow villain” rather than someone to apprehend or destroy.

Ugh…

He should have figured this place would be discovered eventually and by that accursed samurai as well.

As much as he appreciated not having his head immediately chopped off his shoulders, Demongo still felt disheartened to form such an uneasy alliance with these so-called “heroes.” Before he knew it, several SACT agents had made themselves comfortable at the campsite, setting up shops for any young soldiers in need of supplies. Of course, this attracted plenty of those irritating teenage nuisances, and now Demongo had to deal with them on the daily.

The demon was almost disappointed the samurai did not end him when he had the chance, because he could not stand having these children constantly come to him for something to do or to act as mindless messengers for Jack.

To see literal children gaze upon his weakened state with amusement or pity made Demongo so unbelievably enraged, even if he could not express it without raising concern from his “peers.” Sure, he still adorned his flowing cape, and he had just enough power to manifest the skulls that decorated his body. Even so, it was obvious something was wrong with how his usual burning blue flame had almost completely died out. Only a small tint of blue could be seen from the wave of smoke emitting from his head.

He felt colder

Weaker

Vulnerable

And he hated it.

Hopefully, it would not be long until his doppelgänger is finally caught and destroyed. He could not wait to regain his powers, retreat from this place, and never have to deal with these insufferable meat bags ever again. He relished the thought of soaring the skies again, finally free of this humiliation and torture.

He just needed to wait a little longer, surely…

He flinched as he heard footsteps coming his way, almost falling off the crate below him. He turned, relaxing as soon as he saw where those footsteps came from.

It was one of the soldiers… sort of.

This one was certainly no squabbling brat like the others. He was much older, and rather burly too. Faint scars adored his face, yet his expression remained patient and relaxed. In his arms were two pairs of large insect wings, the chitin festering with fusion matter.

The human let out a quiet chuckle. “And I thought the mosquitos from the Wilds were bad enough. It’s a miracle these things haven’t caused you guys any problems so far.”

Demongo was silent, not expecting this mere soldier to start such a casual conversation with him. He readjusted himself, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap. “Well, from my observations, these monsters are more territorial than anything. As long as we do not directly disturb them, they will have no reason to attack this camp.”

The human looked intrigued by that fact. “Huh. You know, that actually explains a lot. What else do you know about these things?”

Demongo smirked, amused by that question. “Oh, now where is the fun in telling you everything? It is much more satisfying seeing you humans learn how formidable these beasts are the hard way.” He snickered to himself.

The human did not seem to care about that remark. “Naw, I don’t wanna know that stuff for combat reasons.” He set the wings aside, letting them rest on top of one of the other crates. “I just like learning neat facts.”

Demongo rested his chin against the back of his hand. “Sure, you do…”

The human brushed any excess fusion matter off his arm sleeves. “It’s a good thing these suits protect against this stuff. I’ve seen what this ooze can do to a person. It is not pretty.” He crossed his arms. “By the way, how are you going to use those wings to fly? I’m not sure if handling that stuff is all that safe.”

Demongo pouted. “I’m insulted you think a being like me would be affected by this material. As a creature of fire, no toxins can harm me. Besides, fusion matter itself has unique properties I can harness. I am sure you have seen how large objects coated in this substance tend to float or sway in the air.”

“Huh,” the human uttered. “I always thought that was just… magic or something.”

“HAH!!” The demon shook his head. “I know magic when I see it. What you see in those infected zones is not magic. This substance is alien, unbound by any laws or science that dictate the properties of everything on this planet. It is no wonder that one so-called genius of a child sought my assistance in researching this material. Such a narrow-minded fool.”

The human thought to himself for a moment, lightly tapping his chin. His expression quickly lit up. “Ah! Is that why nanos float too?”

Demongo lightly clapped, his sarcastic demeanor still very much apparent. “Very good, human! You can make basic logical inferences! How impressive!”

The human was completely unfazed by the demon’s attempts to belittle him. “Huh. That’s pretty neat! That definitely explains why those skull bashers right next door from here can just nonchalantly float like they do. I always wondered how that worked. I’m guessing it’s the same for these wings?” He gestured to the insect wings he had placed down earlier.

To say Demongo was baffled to see such a blatant insult not even bother this human in the slightest would be an understatement. He had to ask. “How are you unbothered?! It is genuinely off-putting.”

The human just shrugged. “Eh. I’ve worked with a lot of villains during this whole invasion. Insults are kind of just how a lot of them communicate, probably because they can’t stomach being forced to work with others. I get it. Besides, as long as they’re not planning on hurting anyone, they all deserve some help now and again, like you.”

Demongo was at a loss for words. He could not understand why a human would go out of their way to help some of the most infamous criminals in the entire continent.

The human smirked, his tone shifting to match the demon’s snarky behavior from earlier. “Thought I was helping you just for the money and fusion matter, huh?”

“I…” Demongo tried to utter a rebuttal but could not think of anything clever to say. What could he say? The human already proved spouting any insult would simply be futile. He also did not seem to be as stupid as the demon once assumed judging from that drastic shift in tone. Why was he doing this? What could he possibly gain for this?

The demon had so many questions but ultimately chose one to commit to.

“What is your name?”

The human beamed, excited to answer. “I’m Damien! Damien Aster!” He held out his hand as a friendly gesture. “I already know about you, so there’s no need for an introduction unless you wanna do one.”

Demongo stared at Damien’s hand for a moment. He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Well, I sure hope you would know who I am! I have made quite the name for myself!” He stood, snatching up the large insect wings from one of the nearby crates Damien originally placed them on. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have much work to do. These wings need some extensive modifications if I am to use them.”

Damien nodded. “That’s fair. If you need anything else, I’m always happy to help!”

Demongo clung to the wings just a little bit tighter. “I shall… keep that in mind. I have left the promised taros and fusion matter by the crate I rested on if you still wish to take them.”

Damien waved a dismissive hand at that offer. “Naw. Keep them. I’m good on taros anyway, and I’m in no rush to get any fusion matter for myself.” He turned, walking off toward the Firepits east of the campsite. “See you soon!” He dismounted what looked to be a fuse dissipator rifle from his back holster, readying it for whatever would greet him in the Firepits.

Demongo watched Damien walk away, pondering to himself about everything the human told him. He still had so many questions…

Bah!

He could afford to worry about all that nonsense later. He had work to do! These wings were not going to reconfigure themselves after all. He walked over to one of the many tents at the campsite, swiftly entering it so he could get to work right away.

He hoped these efforts would be worth it.

[newgenog]

REVENGE

Notes: This is NOT part one of chapter seven. As a reminder, we've switched to weekly teasers for each chapter.

If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading chapter one. 

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Ryan Wilder had just about everything taken from her when we met her, and she was doing her best to get it back. In this version of the story, that means taking some people down along the way. And, she's definitely no hero.

Hopefully you're recovered from chapter 6, and ready for our season finale. I'll try to hold you over with out of sequence and context teasers while I wrap this up. See you next Friday for teaser 2 for chapter 7.

CHAPTER SEVEN SNEAK PEEK

TUESDAY, JULY 10TH, 8:00 PM, THE HOLD UP

Ryan made it through her second day back to work after the holiday that became a regressive spiral into feelings she thought she’d buried, after Angelique put a Crow in a coma, after Luke was attacked by another Crow and hospitalized, and of course after Sophie found out who she was and Ryan crushed her when she admitted she never intended to tell her the truth. In reality, going to work was probably Ryan’s best option, because being left to her own devices at a time like this could result in literal bombs being placed and set everywhere her enemies frequented. But that kind of quick ending wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as ensuring the plan she’d spent years devising came to fruition, nor would it be fitting enough justice for them. They didn’t deserve quick endings. They needed to experience complete loss and total destruction. They needed to see her thriving in spite of everything they took from her. The only way that would happen was if she got her house in order. 

Fortunately, Sophie did still help, as she'd promised, and at least a couple of Ryan’s obstacles were now less threatening. She hadn’t spoken to Angelique in almost two days, and figured she too was barely keeping it together, wondering when the next Crow would jump out and try to take her down. So, Ryan goes to The Hold Up to give Angelique the news that Sophie had shared with her earlier that morning. She can’t deny that knowing with confidence Sophie won’t be there, because she’s currently on her shift with Luke, has influenced her timing. 

She walks up to the bar and a very worried Jordan greets her. 

Jordan: “Hey, Robyn…how are you holding up?” 

Ryan: “I’ve definitely been a lot better than this, but I’ve also been worse. So…”

Jordan: “I hear that. Well, have you eaten anything?”

Ryan: “A little…earlier…haven’t been super hungry.” 

Jordan: “Not surprising, considering. Why don’t I at least put some of your favorite fries in front of you, and we can see what happens?” 

Ryan: “Look at you, taking care of me…”

Jordan: “I might be concerned about Luke, but you were there…I can’t even imagine what that was like. And, I’m going to guess you’re not leaning on my sister right now… So, yeah, anything I can do.” 

Ryan: “That obvious, huh?” 

Jordan: “Oh yeah…but I’m not worried about you two.”

Jordan winks at Ryan, and she smiles back gingerly, appreciating the hope.

Ryan: “Are you here alone?” 

Jordan: “My mom’s in the kitchen, even though she should probably be heading home soon. But, it’s our TikTok queen’s night off, and with Soph so occupied right now…I mean, it’s hella dead in here, anyway. So it's not like she’s working hard.” 

Ryan: “Wait, who’s your TikTok queen?”

Jordan: “Oh, you didn’t see…?”

Ryan: “I’m not really on socials like that…” 

Jordan grabs her phone, taps it a few times, and then slides it over.

Jordan: “I’m going to go put your order in. Enjoy the show!”

As Jordan walks away, Ryan watches Angelique and another woman feed each other shots, what looks like for the third time based on the empty glasses nearby them. Then she tongues the girl down. As she pulls away, she snatches a panda hat off of her lipstick lover's head, placing it atop her own, and dances away to loud hip-hop music playing throughout the bar. The clip, taken on a customer's phone, has over fifty thousand likes, which is a lot for Gotham. The Hold Up is tagged as the location.

Ryan puts the phone down on the bar, completely furious. What about that was laying low or sticking to her routine? 

Ryan: “Hey, Jordan! Can I get those fries to go? Think I’m just going to head to bed early.” 

Ryan's night is actually about to get a lot longer.

~~~~~

To be continued…

We finish season one and chapter seven in August. Let's do this!

Follow #SaveBatwoman on all socials please! Support the Writer and Actor strikes.

#wgastrike #sagaftrastrike #StopCancellingDiverseShows

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 10

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: The moment we've been waiting for! I hope everyone is as happy with this ending as I am. Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story. It's been a lot of work, but the end result is something I am proud of. They say to write the story you want to read, and I'm definitely looking forward to reading this all the way through now that it's finally finished. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as much as I do! Let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

Ages 24 and 25 August 2004

“That’s… You… I’m…” Dean trailed off, unable to complete a thought. His eyes kept darting back and forth between my eyes and his name. He took a deep, calming breath. “Really?” He questioned like he couldn’t quite believe it. Like he thought he read it wrong or I’d drawn his name on myself in sharpie or something.

 I dropped my shirt and shrugged, not entirely sure how to interpret his reaction. Was showing him a mistake after all?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.

“What, you mean like ‘Hey, Dean. As you know, I turned 16 today, and guess who’s name showed up? Yours! I hope that’s not weird since you turned 16 over a year ago and haven’t said anything to me, so even though you’re my soulmate, I must not be yours?’”

“What? You think-” Dean sat on the bed and began unlacing his left boot. I watched, confused.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. He yanked his boot off, pushed his sock down and pulled the leg of his jeans up a little.

“You thought this was one sided?” He asked incredulously. He lifted his foot onto the bed, showing me his ankle. 

My breath caught when I saw my name there. This was real, then. I really did belong to him the way he belonged to me. He didn’t have a different soulmate and my gut feeling that we were meant to be together was right, not just the product of longing for someone I could never have. 

“You really thought that there was a possibility I could ever have anyone other than you as my soulmate?”

“Well, to be honest I kind of assumed you knew. Maybe not about the soulmate part,” I clarified when he scoffed and raised his eyebrows. “But at least how much I like you.”

He was still staring at me with a mixture of shock and exasperation, so I nervously barreled on.

“I mean, it seems like everywhere we go people immediately pick up on it. And I tried to hide it, but apparently I haven’t done a very good job. So I figured you must know and were just being nice enough not to say anything about it. Besides, you never looked twice at me. What was I supposed to think?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the only one I ever looked at.”

“Tell that to all the girls you’ve been with,” I countered. “And look, I realize we weren’t together so you had the right to be with anyone you wanted. But don’t tell me you only had eyes for me.”

“It’s true,” he argued. I scoffed and he clenched his jaw. “The only reason I ever paid any attention to any of them is because I didn’t think I could have you, the one person I really wanted. And I seem to recall you going on a few dates yourself,” he answered.

“You might also remember that I only went on dates when friends set me up. I usually wasn’t thrilled about it and it never went past the first date. And that’s not even the point.”

“Then what is?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “You knew for a year and a half longer than I did. Why didn’t you say something?” Dean sighed.

“You know, when we were growing up, everywhere we went people knew how I felt about you. At every school the guys would tell me how whipped I was and the girls were always asking if we were dating. It shocked me how I was apparently so obvious and yet you could still be so clueless about it. I mean, you know me better than anyone. How could you of all people not see it? Even now you look surprised to hear it.”

I realized that while I was listening to Dean talk, my eyebrows had wrinkled together. 

“Yeah, well. You were protective I guess. But that’s just who you are. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I know you think so,” Dean said. “But everyone else saw it for what it really meant.”

“This doesn’t really answer why-”

“Because,” he interrupted. “I’ve always known I’m not good enough for you, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to be with me because of the soulmate thing. And when you turned 16 and never said anything to me… I figured you just weren’t interested.”

“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know where to start. Uh…” I said, sorting through all the things I wanted to say to pick the most important. “Ok. So what you’re telling me is you knew we were soulmates the whole time?”

“Yeah. Do you know how rare it is for soulmates not to match up? Honestly, I kind of think it’s impossible. I think when that happens it’s just people falling in love with someone with the right name, but it’s the wrong person. It never even crossed my mind that your soulmate could be someone else,” he said.

“Then why did you seem so shocked when you saw my tattoo?” I asked pointedly.  

“Oh, right,” Dean said, reminded of how this whole conversation had started. He grabbed the discarded med kit and gestured for me to lift my shirt.

“Dean.” I wasn’t in the mood for him to try avoiding things. We needed to talk about this.

“I’m not ignoring you. I really need to get you fixed up.” I looked at him doubtfully. “I am capable of talking at the same time,” he said.

I looked at him for a few more seconds, weighing the honesty behind the words. I decided he was just as eager to have this discussion as I was. I walked over to stand beside where he was sitting on the bed and lifted my shirt for him. 

“So?” I asked. “Why did you seem surprised?”

Dean gently rubbed his thumb over the letters of his name, his eyes soft and a small smile on his lips. I shivered at the contact. Then he got to work on cleaning and stitching my side.

“I wasn’t surprised, exactly,” he told me as he worked. “Although I suppose it was a bit of a shock, seeing it for the first time. Knowing in your mind that something must be true and actually seeing it are two different things.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed, wincing at the first poke of the needle. At least this conversation was as good of a distraction as I could ask for.

 “And I just figured if we’ve gone this long without ever seeing or talking about our tattoos, you letting me see it now must mean something.”

“It’s kind of hard to hide it right now,” I pointed out.

“You could’ve kept it hidden if you wanted to. It really wouldn’t have been difficult. Which is why I knew you wanted me to see it. And I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t want me to see it if you weren’t interested.”

I asked my next question. “You honestly thought I wasn’t interested in you?”

“After you turned 16 you never treated me any different,” he shrugged. “I figured there must be a reason for that.”

“There was,” I told him through gritted teeth. I really hated getting stitches. “It was because I was already so in love with you that finding out you were my soulmate didn’t really change things for me.”

He paused his work and looked up at me. 

“You’re serious,” he said. “Really? That long?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” I smiled.

He looked away and continued stitching. He was almost done now.

“Why show me now?” He asked.

“Honestly? I was still nervous about it. If I was right about you having a different soulmate, I didn’t want things to be weird between us,” I told him.

“What changed your mind all of a sudden then?”

“What you said. About why you kissed me. It sounded so much like what I would have said if the situations were reversed that for the first time I let myself really consider the possibility that I was your soulmate too.”

I reached out with my right hand and threaded my fingers through his hair. I loved the feel of it. I loved how soft it was and that I was able to touch him like this. 

“I don’t know when it happened. I don’t even know when I realized it. I just know I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t in love with you,” I told him. It felt kind of weird to admit it out loud, but also really nice. There was no point in hiding it now anyway. Might as well get it all out.

Dean finished with my side and I dropped my shirt as he stood up, forcing my other hand to fall from his hair. He was a full head taller than me and we were standing so close that I had to crane my neck to look at him.

“I guess that’s a good thing,” he said, putting a hand on my cheek. “It makes me feel better about the fact that I can’t remember ever not being in love with you.” Then he leaned down and kissed me.

This time I was a lot more prepared. This time I wasn’t so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even enjoy it. This time I felt everything. I felt how soft his lips were. I felt the way they moved with mine. I felt when his hand moved from my cheek to my neck and his other hand found its way to my back. I felt it when he leaned a little closer and deepened the kiss.

I lifted my arms up to wrap around his neck and winced at the slight pain it caused in my left side. I was fully prepared to ignore it, too caught up in the whole experience to care, but Dean noticed and immediately started to pull away.

“It’s fine,” I told him. I used my hands around his neck to keep him close and try to reconnect our lips.

“Jenna,” he warned gently. Our foreheads were pressed together and I could feel his warm breath brush over my face. “If you want me to keep kissing you, you’re going to have to keep that arm down.”

I just tried to catch his lips again.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You being in pain is a pretty big turn off.”

“You worry too much,” I huffed. But I obediently and dramatically removed my left arm from his neck. “Happy?”

“Smartass,” he said fondly. He slowly leaned in again. Very slowly. My heart raced in anticipation. Just before his lips touched mine, he pulled back.

“Dean,” I whined. He smiled and finally kissed me. 

He moved the hand that had been around my neck to join the other at my back. I moved my left arm to his bicep, loving the strength I could feel there. We found a rhythm quickly, our mouths moving in sync. It was so easy to lose myself in him. In his kiss, in his touch, in the warmth of his body. I would gladly stay here forever.

The kiss was starting to get a little more heated, tongues brushing and Dean lightly nipping at my lower lip once, when his phone rang. He pulled back just the slightest bit, our lips nearly touching. He hesitated for a second, deciding whether or not to answer the phone I guessed. He gave me one last, quick kiss before letting go of me and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open and briefly glanced at the screen before answering.

“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted.

Disappointed about the interruption and slightly out of breath, I sat on the bed, leaning against the wall and listening to Dean’s side of the conversation. He filled Bobby in on everything that had happened. Well. Not everything. But everything regarding finishing the case.

“Alright, Bobby. Yeah, we’ll stop by next time we’re headed your way,” Dean said before hanging up the phone. He sat beside me on the bed. “Well that was good timing,” he grumbled.

“You didn’t have to answer it,” I pointed out. I decided it was probably a good thing we’d been interrupted anyway. We still had a lot to talk about.

“What if someone was dying?” He asked, half joking, half serious. 

“Then they should have called an ambulance. You’re not exactly a doctor,” I said.

“Hey, I managed to stitch you up just fine.” 

“That wasn’t life or death. You’re good for patching up, but you can’t do everything, Superman.”

“Next time I’ll just let it ring, then.” He held his arm up for me. I accepted the invitation and leaned into his side. His arm settled around me and I let out a content sigh.

“You know it’s been almost a decade since the last time we did this,” I said.

“Did what?” Dean was resting his chin on top of my head. My ear was pressed against his chest and I could feel its slight vibration when he spoke.

“Sat together like this.” I thought back to those days I’d been sick and how much I’d enjoyed being so close to him. Then I remembered what he said about that time during the dumb favorite memory game. “Did you mean what you said? At the hotel?” I turned my face up to look at him.

“Which part?” He asked, looking back at me. I gently elbowed him in the side. He knew what I was asking about.

“Ow!” He protested despite the fact that I definitely hadn’t hurt him. I gave him a look and he chuckled.

“I meant it. I think about it a lot. How good it felt to be able to hold you like that. Like this,” he said, briefly squeezing his arm tighter around me for emphasis. “How right it felt to have you in my arms. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. Well,” he smiled mischievously, “it was. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that kissing you is even better.”

“I won’t disagree with that,” I grinned. My neck was getting tired from the angle I was turned at to see Dean, so I looked away and rested my head back against his chest. I reverted back to an old habit, absentmindedly twisting the bracelet on my wrist as I thought through everything.

“What are you thinking?” Dean asked.

 “I’m having a hard time believing this is real. I’m kind of still wrapping my head around that first kiss. Not to mention everything else,” I admitted.

“You know, the way you froze up at the hotel when I kissed you… I thought I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life. I was worried you were pissed at me for crossing that line and that you might want to leave when we finished the hunt,” he told me.

“More like it happened so quickly and took me so much by surprise that my brain stopped working.”

“Freezing up isn’t really a quality you want in a hunting partner. Maybe I should ditch you,” he teased.

“Maybe you should,” I agreed. “But good luck explaining to Bobby how you left me in Idaho to fend for myself. With an injury.”

“Mm, good point. Guess that means I’m stuck with you.”

“Guess so,” I smiled.

We talked for a couple of hours. Up until our stomachs were grumbling and we couldn’t ignore the need for food anymore. We went out to eat and when we got back we curled up together again and stayed up well into the night, mostly talking, but trading a few kisses as well. When I fell asleep that night, I knew I could never be happier than I was at that moment. I finally had everything I’d ever wanted, and it was even better than I could have imagined.

~~~~~

A couple days later we drove out to Bobby’s house. We decided to make a trip out there to see him like Dean had promised before we started looking for a new case. We wanted a few days off to just enjoy our new relationship before we got back into things and we only planned to stay at Bobby’s for the day.

We made it to his house just after noon. The old hunter was happy to see us of course. He hugged us both and then invited us in. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much around for food. I’ve been meaning to make a run to the store,” he said apologetically.

“No problem,” I said, holding up a grocery bag. “We came prepared.” 

Bobby wasn’t exactly known for having a well stocked fridge. We knew it was possible he wouldn’t have much around, and we didn’t want to drop in without warning and just expect him to feed us.

“Of course you did. I guess I should expect that from you by now, shouldn’t I?” Bobby said to me. 

“C’mon Bobby,” I teased as I headed for the kitchen. “You live in the midwest. You know you can’t just show up to someone’s house at meal time without bringing food.”

“Well, c’mon now,” Bobby said, shooing me out of the way. “You’re the guest and you brought the food. The least I can do is get it ready.”

He unpacked the buns, hamburger, sloppy joe sauce, macaroni salad, and potato chips we’d stopped to buy on our way into town. The three of us chatted while Bobby made the hamburger, just catching up on things since the last time we saw each other. 

Over lunch Dean and I told Bobby about some of the more interesting cases we’d been on recently. Bobby told us about the research he was doing for another hunter and about how some guy named Rufus was harassing him to help him on a hunt.

We finished lunch and were heading out to the porch to enjoy some beers when Bobby’s phone rang. 

“You two go on and I’ll join you when I’m done,” Bobby instructed. 

Dean carried the cooler out and I opened the screen door for him. Bobby had left the main door open to let in some fresh air. It was a beautiful day. The temperature was sitting in the mid 60s, the sun was shining and there was nothing more than a light breeze occasionally drifting through the air. 

Dean and I sat together on the rickety old porch swing, leaving the chair for Bobby. Dean put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into his side, enjoying the weather and the gentle rocking of the swing.

“Do you remember the summer our dads dropped us off here for a month?” Dean asked after a couple minutes of peaceful quiet.

“Yeah. Sam was obsessed with magic and spent most of his time trying to learn new tricks,” I recalled. “And you basically spent the whole month elbows deep in whatever car you could get your hands on.”

“And you,” he said accusingly, “did not make it easy for me to concentrate.”

“What?” I asked, pulling away from his side so I could look at him. “What did I do?”

“Nothing in particular. You didn’t have to. It was just the way you would sit close by and watch me work while you sang along to the radio. Or I’d look up and see you sitting right here,” he said, patting the swing, “reading a book. It didn’t matter what you were doing. I just remember thinking how beautiful and distracting you were.”

I blushed a little at the words and wondered how long it would take for that to stop.

“And all I really wanted to do,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Was this.”

He leaned in and caught my lips in a sweet kiss. I smiled into it.

“Well it’s about damn time,” Bobby drawled from the doorway. Dean and I jerked apart, startled by his sudden appearance. “A man could grow old and die waiting for you two idjits to get it together,” he said as he opened the screen door and stepped outside. His voice was as gruff as usual, but there was a twinkle in his eye and a small smile on his mouth.

“Wait, you knew?” I asked. My heart was still racing.

“‘Course I did. I don’t think there’s anybody that’s seen the two of you together and doesn’t know.”

I wanted to object, but then I thought back on all the times people had picked up on my feelings for Dean. And how he had apparently experienced the same thing. 

“So I guess we were just the last ones to know,” Dean said a little frustratedly.

“Looks like it,” Bobby smiled. “Congratulations you two. I’m happy for you,” he said.

“Thanks Bobby,” I answered.

He reached into the cooler and pulled out three beers, popping the caps off and handing us each one.

“Here’s to the happy couple,” Bobby said, clinking his bottle against both of ours.

I smiled and took a sip along with the two men.

Here’s to a long and happy life with the man I’m lucky enough to call my soulmate, I thought.

Ages 24 and 25 October 18, 2004

“Do you remember the day we met?” Dean asked one afternoon. We were driving down an empty highway, two hours into a five hour trip.

“Of course,” I answered. I’d been 9 years old. Dean was 11. Dad and John were planning on finishing their hunt that day. They’d already had a little bit of trouble with the police and they wanted us in the same place so they could make a quick getaway when they were done if necessary. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it,” he shrugged. Then, after a second he smiled. “You were so nervous.”

“Yeah, well my dad had never just randomly dropped me off with strangers before. I wasn’t sure what was going on,” I defended.

“I remember seeing you just standing there all shy, staring at your feet. And I thought, ‘Who is this girl? Why is Dad leaving her with us? She’s just another person for me to have to protect if something finds us.’”

I felt a mix of pride and sorrow rush through me at this new piece of information. At the insight it gave into the man Dean was, and really, had always been. Even at such a young age, his first thought was about protecting others. 

“But then we played a few rounds of slap jack and I realized how competitive you are. And I figured there must be more to you than the defenseless girl I thought you were.”

I laughed, remembering exactly how that had gone. Dean had started out going easy. I could tell he was trying to make me more comfortable, but I wasn’t having it. If I was going to win the game, it was going to be because I’d actually earned it. So when the next jack was laid down and Dean waited a second before going for it, I waited with him. The second I saw his hand start to move, not quite as fast as he could’ve, I moved too.

As I took the pile of cards I looked up into his wide eyes and smiled. “If you’re just going to let me win, don’t bother playing.”

“Then I saw how sweet you were with Sam,” Dean continued. “And I found out you knew about hunting which is something I could never talk about since Sam didn’t know yet. It was nice to have someone else around who knew.”

He was quiet for a minute, but I could tell he wasn’t done talking yet. I waited for him to sort his thoughts.

“I’ve been trying to figure out when I realized. And I think it was then. The day that I met you, I knew what you were to me,” he said. “Not consciously, of course. But there was a part of me that knew. It’s why I felt so protective of you so quickly. And why I was excited the next time we saw each other. Even though I barely knew you.”

I smiled at him, my heart feeling full enough to burst. 

“I love you,” I told him.

“What?” He asked.

“I love you,” I repeated, amused at the surprise in his voice. Not at the words, but that that had been my reply.

“What makes you say that?”

“What makes you say any of the things you just did?” I answered.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about it and I wanted you to know,” he said.

“And I just wanted you to know,” I said. “I spent a lot of time not able to say it. Now that I can… well. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dean glanced at me, eyes soft and smile bright. He held his arm out in invitation. I scooted to the middle seat and leaned into his side as he put his arm around my shoulder. 

“Jenna,” he said. I turned my face in his direction and he leaned in for a short kiss. “I love you too.”

Epilogue

[heimeldat]

I think all the fics I've read by you are very cool, but as the Seventh Doctor and Ace fan that I am, you know I would love to hear your Director's Cut about those XD ❤️

Ooh let’s see...I guess I only have 3 with them so far.

Incendarine Contamination was kind of an accident. I hadn’t really planned to write anything with Seven, at least not until I’d refreshed my memory on some of his serials. But someone had given me an “accidental baby acquisition” prompt for an entirely different Doctor (I think it was Twelve) and this image just popped into my head of Seven carrying around some sort of ugly tentacly baby that had physically latched onto him, while Ace stared in dismay. So I kind of laughed and started writing a description of the scene, and next thing I knew I’d written 8 thousand words and fallen in love with Seven all over again.

Crystal, Fuse, and Mask was based on a prompt I snagged from some exchange I wasn’t part of, so I set out to fulfil as many of the prompter’s tags as possible, and that really guided the plot. I didn’t write this one all at once, though; I posted each chapter as I finished it and then figured out later how to resolve whatever problem I’d just created. This one is notable for introducing me to Doctor Nyarlathotep. I always liked the more eldritch mental-powers side of the Doctor’s character, but I didn’t know it was a Thing. I think it was actually you, Dyo, who mentioned Nyarla in the comments and prompted me to look up what that meant. Never coming back from that rabbit hole! Btw I do still intend to continued this story; it’s going to be a trilogy, each installment about the same length as this first one. I just haven’t gotten around to writing it yet.

Cold and Hot was inspired by a list of Whumptober prompts. I knew I wasn’t going to do more than a couple stories in October, so I crammed as many of the prompts as possible into one story. (Well, I probably could have managed more than eight, but that felt like enough.) I’d already been wanting to do a shipwreck story, and my first thought was to use Eight and Charley; they felt like the obvious choice for the romanticized adventure tropes associated with wrecks. But I’d been writing a lot of Eight/Charley and wanted a change, and I also didn’t feel like dealing with the frustration and anger that Charley often feels when the Doctor gets all self-sacrificial. Ace is much more likely to take that type of plot in stride; she gets triggered by secrets, not sacrifice. I’m glad I went that route; in this case, it was more fun exploring Time Lord biology (especially since I’d just finished writing my biological essay) than dealing with Charley’s emotions.

[youmissedone]

“Maybe you’re right and I do know why,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and gently pressing the keychain into his palm. “If it was anyone else, they would’ve thrown it away and moved on to someone new. Carlos… you make me feel real. I don’t know who Ada Wong is, but the keychain, the letters, the compact — it’s proof that she existed. It’s proof that she exists. That’s the difference between me and Carla Radames: I have you. She didn’t.”

Carlos was Ada’s alibi, in a way. He was the only person who could testify that something deeper existed beneath her carefully crafted and well-worn mask. He was the only person who saw that she was more than just the one facet she projected to the world, and that both terrified and thrilled Ada.

“It’s going to be hard for me,” she admitted, her voice thick with emotion, “to figure out who Ada is. Who I am. Carla made me realize that I have to know who that is. I don’t remember the girl I was when this all started, and I don’t know if I am who I believe I am. But I want to figure that out.”

Carlos would be by her side for all of it. She didn’t need to ask him for confirmation on that fact because he’d always stood by her. Even after she betrayed him time and time again, he still argued that she was a good person who deserved good things.

Ada embraced Carlos. She took a shaky breath, allowing herself to stay in his arms for a few moments before pulling away. Her fingers found the scar on his shoulder, and she lightly traced it, remembering the night when he’d gotten it. Ada had a scar in the same place. Maybe it was evidence that they’d made it this far. Maybe it was a story. Maybe it was something else entirely.

“I was right, you know. In Spain. The years have been kind to us, and we haven’t changed at all. You told me that you needed me to decide what I am to you, and I’ve decided.” Ada’s gaze flickered between Carlos’ deep brown doe eyes and his lips. She took his hand in hers. The slight shaking and sweatiness weren’t initially obvious, but Carlos might’ve noticed them. “I’m still not a good person, but I think we deserve this after the hell we’ve been through. A happy ending. I tied up all my loose ends, and I’m done being a spy. You only ever wanted me to stay, and I don’t want to lose what I have with you, so… I’m staying.”

With that, Ada stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Carlos’ forehead.

_________

Carlos knew his sentimentality set him apart from others in his line of work, but he didn’t see it as a weakness. Instead, he thought it was especially important to keep his heart going amidst everything, and to make sure he didn’t lose his humanity in the process. Seeing the way Ada had reacted to him keeping the keychain she’d given him gave Carlos a warm feeling in his chest. Not only was he keeping his own heart alive, but maybe he’d managed to thaw out a bit of Ada’s as well. He wanted to do that, if he could, as much for himself as for her.

He knew she was scared about what she felt for him, and about what he might be feeling for her. Carlos hoped she could hold on, though, and just let it happen. Allow it, he wanted to say. Let it happen as it will, and maybe it won’t end up as badly as you’re afraid it will... That was the question, though, whether or not Ada would ever stick around long enough to give him a real chance. To give them a chance.

He nodded as she spoke of figuring out who Ada really was. He wanted that for her as well, and if she’d let him, he’d be right there to support her through the process. Regardless, though, he hoped that one day she would be able to understand herself better, outside of work or anything she’d built herself up into for the sake of infiltrating and spying. There were few worse private hells in this world, he knew, than not fully understanding oneself. Did she know that he’d be there for her through it all? He hoped so.

The embrace was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Carlos was just surprised that she’d do such a thing, since she very often kept him quite literally at arm’s length. Nevertheless, he returned the favor, wrapping his arms gently around her. He couldn’t help but smile as her fingers traced the scar on his shoulder. It was a meaningful one, and part of the whole story of this dance they’d been doing with each other for a long time now.

Suddenly he was aware of how... nervous she seemed. His brow furrowed, wondering why, but he didn’t have to for long. Soon, she was telling him that she’d finally decided what she was to him, and he honestly found himself growing a bit nervous. What if this was goodbye? What if this whole thing was just to thank him, bid him well, and walk away? He’d let her go, of course, as he always had in the past, but... somehow he felt like it’d hurt a bit more this time than it had all the other times. 

A lot had happened to them, and they deserved better. Both of us, Carlos thought, for he really didn’t see Ada as a bad person the way she always said she was. Facts were facts, and as far as he was concerned, it was a hard, solid fact that they both deserved some relief, some happiness, and some comfort, given all that they’d suffered throughout their lives and more recently.

And when she finally said those words Carlos longed to hear, that she was staying, a warm smile came to his lips as he watched her eyes. His own eyes closed when she kissed his forehead, and when they opened, they looked down at her hand holding his before flicking up to hers once more. A very vulnerable whisper of, “Thank you,” escaped him, and he lifted his other hand to her cheek, slowly leaving his own kiss on her forehead. Then his lips lowered to hers, grazing them softly, wondering if she’d allow him to give her a proper kiss now...

[chocolate-terminal]

You Only Live Twice

Really really cool thing as promised. Honestly, I think figuring that one out is part of the reason we met and had this crazy online correspondence.

Check it out even if you’re mad at me, this is a magic key for the rest of your life! (or at least toward understanding its full potential)

Knowledge can be rewritten! Bilocation At Last!

It’s Easy!

See, when I first figured out the split-solution from earlier, it actually came to me as ‘Knowledge can be rewritten’ but I couldn’t make quite make sense of it and ended up thinking I merely confused knowledge with memories.

Well, NOT ANYMORE! (Can I get a GG?)

The secret to living multiple lives at once? Multithreading!

See, when you look at a computer, it appears to be running multiple tasks at once. But that’s an illusion! In reality, it allocates processing power only to the task at hand, rapidly cycling between tasks. That’s the secret!

But see here the thing: The Processor is actually giving it’s processing power to each task. In living gent terms: The Person is actually processing both experiences!

Now you might wonder: But Darling, Man of My Dreams, Stealer of Nights, we are not computers, we are humans! Such a split experience would end up a confusing jumble of sounds and image, A doorway into insanity!

And to this I answer: Yes. 

But only if you have poor memory management.

See, from inside each context (’task’), you could simply experience no recollection of the previous context.

Still, this is imperfect right? Because while you could be with two person at once, for their greatest pleasure, you wouldn’t know it, and so would be locked inside each knowledge set, each part of you never knowing this part of itself. And so would they. Each thread never knowing the other, never knowing themselves. Spending half of forever as One, and yet strangers - Alienation.

Constantly missing the other, parched in the knowledge of them.

Well, that’s solved too! E.Z.

All you gotta do is recall your experience with the other person at some frequency. What matter is that you actually experienced being with them - YOU WERE THERE! - so it’s not fake, it’s not just a memory.

But wouldn’t this sort of obvious “magic” be disruptive to the way I experience my life?

Not necessarily

Recall can be every morning after you wake up or (much less disruptive) once at the end of your life. But there no need to wait that long for knowledge either. There can be conscious recall and unconscious recall.

I actually figured out multi-threading earlier but didn’t know how to handle the rapid-switching seamlessly, and more importantly, figured it would result in split-time, and so, not being able to give forever. And so rejected it. 

Because I thought in selfish selflessness that I could divide myself between those I love. What kind of love (whether inflowing or outgoing) would say yes to that?

I shall not split babes! 

You haven’t to worry, these shadowy fantasies matter little - You are here. We did not walk down that dark path.

Because even though half of endless time is still endless time, I thought it was still short of giving everything. Because it’s everything slower. A cut-rate everything. Always lagging.

Now I know that sometimes, to be with someone is not to be with them. That this is how we can give them the opportunity to discover all that they are - and even if they don’t need that per se - perhaps we need that - and that is how we give them the opportunity to connect with us in this way rather than according to some pretty picture of how we (or they) think we ought to be.

Because back then I was foolish enough to believe that a love divided in time meant a love divided; Period. Because I thought that love was within rather than between.

Only the knowledge of love is within.

We are not merely what we know ourselves to be. I know that now. So... let’s find out!?

[accustiv]

i took a breath, trying to stop the humourless laugh that threatened to escape. behavioural sciences, psychology, it was close, but it wasn’t right. it didn’t take into account casper’s actual personality, how easily alex bled into him, more and more towards the end, how the strain of living three separate lives at once had broken him first, and then me. calling him impatient wasn’t right, it was oversimplified and missed the mark completely. but i supposed that it was a good thing.

“ yeah, he was angry. ” i didn’t elaborate, i couldn’t elaborate with any truth, he never took out his anger on me, and i did everything to stop him from needing to - desperate, always, for him to look at me like he loved me again. “ frustrated, that probably describes it better. but once we knew we could hide it… he calmed down. he’s - look, the ghost is complicated. people can spend years with him and not understand him at all, your guys aren’t gonna figure him out from a couple of paintings. and there’s no guarantee they’re analysing behaviour that’s his and doesn’t belong to someone else in the network if they’re looking at… other… cases. ” i cleared my throat, and looked down at the table, the ghost was violent, everyone knew that. but casper wasn’t evil. stupid and selfish and ruthless, yes, but not evil.

i felt sick. i shifted, awkwardly, in my seat. none of this was right, none of this was worth a promise bishop hadn’t even made yet - but casper wasn’t going to die alone, i’d made that decision, no matter what warnings i got, no matter how long it had been since anyone had seen him, i didn’t forgive him, but he didn’t deserve that, he wasn’t the terrifying grim reaper people seemed to imagine, he was just casper - beautiful and clever and… the kind of person that threw you into prison and burned your name just so he didn’t have to break up with you.

my gaze lifted, slowly, as bishop finally agreed to ask for the release. i expected it to feel better, to feel like i was free, but turning informant felt more like a prison sentence than prison itself. i nodded, mutely, and was vaguely aware i should ask for a lawyer, or set up better terms. but then he asked a question that stole the air right out of my lungs. ‘ are you being targeted? ’ i didn’t know how to answer that, i wasn’t even sure if i knew the answer. kit knew who i was, that much was obvious, but my motives? that was still in question, unless jack had told them what my relationship had actually been with cas. even then, that would assume kit could understand not immediately wanting to murder him - which, given how they had reacted to alex not being real… i didn’t know. i didn’t know enough about them, i’d kept my distance from the start on purpose.

“ honestly? ” i said, very quietly, “ i have no idea. ” i paused. “ i won’t lie and say no one will come after me, rats aren’t exactly well-loved… and… i could have caught some people’s attention when i broke out, so, they might be looking at me, but… ” i shrugged, weakly, “ i haven’t been threatened, if that’s what you mean. and… i don’t think anyone in the network will come after me.” it sounded robotic, but it was as close to the truth as i could get - the only person that could order that was eman, and i just couldn’t picture him doing it, not if jack told him i was trying to find cas… he could hate him all he wanted… but i knew he still cared. kit, on the other hand… “ but i can’t be sure. ”

a silence hangs in the stillness between them. bishop is near breathless.

beau is still withholding things, he knows, pushing bishop further away from the whole picture as if the details will reveal a much bigger truth, but for some reason that doesn't seem to matter. bishop usually prides himself on picking apart con artists and their tricks, knowing when to fold before they can ever play their aces, and despite his record, beau still surprises him. it doesn't quite feel like beau is ready to play an ace. he is merely dismaying at a handful of jokers and twos.

oftentimes, witnesses and accomplices change their reactions upon each visit, jumping from afraid and vulnerable, to hard and unshakeable the next. at that point, the usual tactic is to switch gears and question their story, but all bishop needs is one unyielding emotion. something he can read, something human and real.

beau carnegie is afraid, and that consistent fear, unfortunately, tells him everything.

"and how did he react when you almost ruined the painting?" he asks, cutting through the silence. "you said he was under pressure. we have extensive evidence that suggests the ghost is not only methodical, but … what's the word i'm looking for? i guess rather spiteful, i suppose. we had the behavioral science unit look into a case or two, and they suggested that he might be the impatient type. a perfectionist, likes routine, hates seeing it broken, that sort of thing? was he angry with you?"

there are other things the behavioral science unit proposed, most of which he doesn't understand. he isn't fully certain how they picked apart his psyche from a single forgery, implying things that can apply to just about anyone, such as parental figure issues, to mental health issues, depression. someone even suggested mania. to bishop, their predictions sound more like a fortune teller or a psychic with a crystal ball than hard-based fact, but methodical and impatient, he can visibly attest.

"okay," agent bishop says, straightening up in his seat. "okay. for the sake of this mysterious someone you care about, and the opportunity to find the ghost, i will do what i can. i am not saying i can get you out. i don't even know what my limitations are, or what the repercussions might be if i even bring up the possibility of releasing you into my custody, but i am willing to ask on your behalf. you have already given us more than what we need, and that's certainly something. i thank you for confessing to the forgery as well."

bishop sighs, observing beau closely, and frowns. "and just for my own ease of mind, is there anything i need to worry about right now? are you being targeted, or will you be targeted if you're released? by the ghost or his associates, i mean. this is important."

he doesn't know what he will say to the asac to let beau into his custody, especially given her most recent remarks and pokes to the ribs about the possibility of the ghost not even being a real person, that the case had only moved an inch in the last seven years, and that he was dealing with a well-organized syndicate and nothing more. but she hasn't seen the bodies. she hasn't seen the retribution and forms of justice, and she certainly hasn't met beau. the last thing he needs is blood on his hands for ever letting him out.