#post that only make sense to my most wonderful of mutuals

[crystallizedkingdoms]

tripposting is the blupjeans of 2025. like. shes dead shes gone. or is she? hes dying but he comes back. he dies and he is back again. throwing himself into endless cycles to find her find her find her. love and obsession so great he goes to the end of the world again for even a chance of seeing her. and also shes erased from the memory of all those who once knew her. hello is anybody hearing me

[sky-scribbles]

Next up on Things I Liked About Veilguard: the faction leaders. We all know some of the factions and their NPCs did not get anything like the amount of content and character that others did (Strife and Irelin I'm so sorry, I still love you), but sometimes I take a step back and realise how wonderful the stuff we did get was.

I mean - Evka and Antoine. Everything about them is so heartfelt. I hadn't read the supplemental material, but they barely needed to interact before I understood why this sweet, smart guy and this tough, smart woman loved each other. They affirm each other constantly. They respect each other so deeply. They have written letters for the other to take to their Callings: a cipher only Antoine could read. Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours.

I love how Myrna and Vorgoth are introduced, suddenly and unsettlingly there in the Lighthouse. I love Vorgoth speaking in all caps. I love the fact that nobody knows what they are. I love that they raised baby Ingellvar. I love how Myrna is calm and polished while every so often coming out with the absolute wildest shit. They're fun.

The Viper and Tarquin? Top tier. They might be my favourites, just because of how much they have going on. Each of them has a backstory, and you can see exactly how those backstories produced their personalities. Ashur has a secret identity you can piece together from notes and codexes (and it's the funniest identity possible). I love their argument over Ashur's paranoid investigation into Tarquin, because it shows that the world goes on when Rook is not in the room, and the NPCs have relationships that go through ups and downs.

I'm mildly insane over the level of devotion, with Tarquin's desperate letters to the Wardens if Ashur is blighted, begging for a cure Ashur won't take. Him standing over Ashur to defend him in the final mission, or else his devastating reaction if Ashur dies: 'It should have been me!' God, these NPCs are alive. (fun fact: I wrote most of this post, and then Sheryl Chee confirmed these two were written as being in love with each other and stupid about it. I'm so happy.)

Speaking of NPCs who love each other: Teia and Viago, my beloveds. Again, I was coming in without the supplemental material, and I was sold on them so fast. The way Viago tenderly cradles Teia from behind as they mourn Caterina. The way they're so involved in Lucanis's personal quests - they're his family, they're there for him, they love him. I love Teia's fierceness and her heart. I love their banter - so much mutual understanding, exasperation and affection mixed together. 'We know each other too well to be strangers.'

Isabela is as wonderful as she always is - I especially appreciate how her depiction in Veilguard makes it clear just how loving she is. But can we also talk about Rowan? (I don't know if she's technically considered a faction leader, but meh.) I love her poetic speech patterns; I love that she's a scholar who wrote a bunch of codex entires; I love her calm, soothing voice. I love getting to see a Rivani Seer at last. And I love how she'll suddenly turn around and say, still calm and soothing, 'Spirit of Determination: may your enemies die bitter and in pain.' Perfect, no notes.

Strife and Irelin, sadly, drew the shortest straw when it came to being fleshed out in-game. But what I do love about them is their relationships with your companions. I love the tiny detail of Irelin, Bellara's ex, helping her pack for the Lighthouse; I love how she writes to Bellara to beg her to take care of herself, because she still matters to her.

And while I am a profound Emmrook lover, I appreciate Emmrich/Strife so much too. I love their shared curiosity and sense of adventure; I love thinking that Emmrich might give Strife tenderness that his life has lacked, while Strife could help nudge Emmrich toward boldness. I love the idea of two older men who likely think love has passed them by suddenly going, oh. If the Veil Jumpers didn't get a deeper relationship with Rook, at least they got relationships with Rook's friends.

Dragon Age games always give us a fun roster of companions, but honestly? Veilguard got me invested in the non-companion NPCs more than any other game in the series. Yes, there should have been more - but what we got was so much fun.

tl;dr: Faction leaders, my beloveds.

[sjyuns]

WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT

BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?

or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),

CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic

WORDCOUNT! 5100

MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!

playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift

i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment

“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.

It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.

But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.

Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.

“You tingle my spidey senses.”

You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”

It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.

“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.

“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.

“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”

You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.

“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.

“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.

He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.

ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man

TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public

THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?

Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.

And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.

Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!

Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.

He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?

ii. man up, spidey-boy!

“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”

The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.

Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.

He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”

Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.

His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?

“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.

“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”

Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.

He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.

And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.

But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.

With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.

“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.

And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.

Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.

“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”

You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”

He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.

You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”

You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.

“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”

It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.

But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.

He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.

As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.

How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.

iii. in a sticky predicament

“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”

“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”

His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.

But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.

Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.

“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.

You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.

That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”

He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.

“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?

“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.

“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”

He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”

iv. tell him to grow a pair

Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.

“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.

“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”

“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”

“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”

He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.

You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.

Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.

And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.

Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.

After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.

“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”

“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.

“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”

The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.

But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”

You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.

You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.

The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.

Oh my god.

You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?

Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.

“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.

“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.

“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.

“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”

And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.

“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.

You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”

“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.

“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”

He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.

“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”

“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”

Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.

“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.

“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.

Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”

“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.

And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.

“I couldn’t be better.”

v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans

“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”

And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.

“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”

“Can I swing from building to building?”

“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”

“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”

But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.

“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”

“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”

“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.

You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.

“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”

You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.

Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.

“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”

He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.

“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”

“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”

You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.

uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )

hi dear yn,

i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope

chapter one part one : what i like about you

i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.

part two : why you should like me

i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.

will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and

(a bunch of scribbling)

forget it. you’ll never like me back.

dear mister sim jaeyun,

after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)

one. what i like about you

everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.

two. why you should like me

i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)

will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.

love you babe,

spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick

© SJYUNS

[coco-loco-nut]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Pairing: None

Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat

A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

_________

You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.

You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.

“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.

“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.

“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.

“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.

“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.

“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.

“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?

“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.

You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.

“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.

“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.

“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.

“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.

“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.

“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.

“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.

“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”

“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.

“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.

“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.

“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.

“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.

“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.

Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.

You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.

“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.

“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.

“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.

You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.

In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.

“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.

“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.

“Who’s afraid of little old me?”

[saintsenara]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I absolutely love your metas! You’re not only clearly a very talented writer but also blessed with such great insight into these characters that my dopamine levels always jump to absolute heights with every new post. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and being a real gem in this fandom ❤️

Also, because I couldn’t find any post (or did I miss it?) about specifically Harry/Snape (without a third person added to the mix) I would love to read your thoughts on it. Either romantically or gen, after the war, where Snape lives. Thank you so much for indulging me :)

thank you very much for the [exceptionally lovely] ask, anon!

snarry is definitely a popular request...

... so let's get into it!

[and let's also get out of the way that i do not back snamione as a pairing. you can find out why here.]

while they're by no means my otp - and while i'll admit to preferring both snape and harry paired up with lord voldemort - i have long dabbled in a bit of snarry, particularly because it's a ship which attracts astonishingly talented writers. and - in particular - astonishingly talented writers who think really subtly, intelligently, and creatively about life and love and all the questions therein. i'm always really struck by the nuance with which both snape and harry are treated in so many snarry fics, and i much prefer that to the more one-note treatment each character gets elsewhere in the fandom.

and - of course - why snarry works so well as a ship is because it has such a solid justification in both harry and snape's canon characterisation - and because this compatibility is made all the more interesting by the layer of conflict caused by snape and harry's mutually antagonistic relationship. harry adores the half-blood prince - looks up to him so much, in fact, that he genuinely wonders if the man was his father - because they're intellectually compatible, have similar senses of humour, have similarly self-serving aspects to their moral codes, and have a shared reactivity and emotional volatility. the text emphasises this frequently, most explicitly when hermione tells harry in half-blood prince that he doth protest too much:

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn’t notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn’t he use another guinea pig for a change? What’s Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff - " "Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

harry is also willing to acknowledge these similarities himself, sometimes. he empathises with - and even, occasionally, respects - snape well before the conclusion of deathly hallows, and - crucially - does this on his own terms. him refusing to dismiss his disgust at his father's treatment of snape in snape's worst memory in order not to make sirius or lupin feel awkward is incredibly impressive - and is something i don't think he gets enough credit for.

and since one of the things which makes me a member of both tomarrymort and snapemort nation is harry's instinctive understanding of how voldemort's childhood affected him and voldemort's understanding of how snape's childhood affected him, this is something i think provides a fascinating seam for authors to mine when writing about snape and harry together.

similarly, post-war, i think snarry is one of the best pairings for exploring how both harry and snape come to terms with the realisation that - no matter how well it all worked out in the end - they were both pawns in a larger game. i think that snape is, really, the only person in harry's life who could ever come close to appreciating what it means to have dumbledore send you out to [nearly] die - and i also think, because the man is always at the forefront of my mind, that snape is one of the few people in harry's life who can appreciate the fact that harry, as much as he also hated and feared him, was impressed by, sympathised with, and wanted to help voldemort.

snarry is also an incredibly compelling ship for thinking about power, and how both harry and snape understand it. i wouldn't care about the age difference, or the fact that snape and harry's acquaintance is established while harry is a child and snape is his teacher, even if the dynamic between them could only ever be heavily unbalanced in snape's favour, because these are fictional people. but i'm often struck by how interestingly snarry writers deal with snape being someone who views himself, inherently, as a supplicant - and who therefore ends up offering harry the upper hand in their dynamic [whether this is platonic or otherwise] despite the fact that he is the younger partner. snape's capacity for destructive devotion and self-subordination is one of his most fascinating canon characteristics - and snarry is one of the best vehicles for exploring this.

indeed, the canonical snape clearly regards harry as someone who possesses power over him. his complaints about harry being rich, spoiled, and arrogant make clear that he considers harry to be the second coming of the dynamic he had with james [with it never seeming to occur to him that this is an absurd thing for an adult teacher to think about their pupil], while his complaints about harry's fame are because he views harry as an inherent insider [someone with a pureblood surname and the money to prove it] to the wizarding world while he himself is an outcast. this can cause some exquisite toxicity - especially when snape, who tends to view every interaction he has though a win-lose lens and who becomes incredibly nasty in both victory and defeat, is proven right, having insisted to harry that the wizarding world won't like its golden hero getting railed by a tenuously-acquitted death eater.

but it can also result in something surprisingly beautiful. harry likes to save people, after all, and snape would - deep down - very much to be saved.

and one way he can do this is by offering snape the forgiveness for his role in lily's death which it's clear the canonical snape refuses to accept he might be entitled to. and, in doing this, the pairing draws out a theme which i am obsessed with - that there is a lost generation, whose ghosts haunt the characters alive in the canon timeline. no matter how negative his opinion on james and sirius and so on is, by virtue of knowing them, snape provides harry with a connection to a world he would be a stranger to otherwise, while harry provides snape with a mooring in the present which makes dealing with the weight of the past - and processing the fact that he's virtually the only person he knew as a teenager who's still alive - easier.

i also think that fucking your enemy's nephew is iconic, and snape and petunia meeting again in a scenario in which he's harry's boyfriend is a concept that sustains me.

[sflow-er]

Henry and Simon’s dynamic over the three seasons

For YR Faves Fest 2024 organised by @youngroyals-events Prompts: 2. Favourite teen side character (+ 7. Favourite not-quite friendship)

In one of my replies to the recent side character ask game, I briefly mentioned being partial to the dynamic between these two. So for this Faves Fest, I decided to elaborate with an analysis post (featuring screenshots of variable quality)!

I want to preface this with a brief acknowledgment of Henry’s privilege and classism. It is not my intention to diminish them. I do, however, feel that it’s a bit apples-to-oranges to compare them to Simon’s views (citrus pun intended). 🍊 is politically active and has put in the effort to form his own beliefs, while 🍏 shows us time and again that he is ignorant of the world outside the elite bubble and not inclined towards deep reflection. He is largely a product of his upbringing and the (liberal conservative) values imparted by his parents.

While Henry doesn’t grow enough to change his core views and values in the canon timeline, he does change his views on Simon. This isn’t enough progress for them to become actual friends before we leave off (I doubt Simon could be friends with someone who only exempts him), but I would still argue that they end the show on amicable terms.

And yes, I mean that in a mutual sense, even if Simon doesn’t soften towards Henry quite as much as Henry softens towards him!

So, let’s dive in!

Dialogue taken from the English CC and [abbreviated or corrected].

1.01: the tax debate

Henry: “Take my dad’s estate, for example. They’re struggling to make ends meet because of the high taxes.” [Simon chuckles and explains his views] Simon: “Like your dad. [Do you know how much he gets in EU subsidies every year]”? Henry: “And what the fuck does your dad do?”

Like most viewers, I find it a lot easier to relate to Simon’s views than Henry’s here – but I do think Henry often gets judged quite harshly for insulting Simon at the end. His comment does not come out of nowhere (cf. Stella’s unprompted dirty look at Simon and Sara when she talks about welfare scamming).

Henry only knows that his father has said their estate is struggling, so of course he won’t take kindly to Simon suggesting that they are actually getting undeserved subsidies instead. It’s also important to note that this estate isn’t just any old farm. It was granted to one of his ancestors as a reward for their services to the Crown, which makes it a core part of his family history. As we learn in 1.04, Henry is a Society boy and very proud of his noble ancestry, and Simon’s comment likely feels like an insult to his entire family. So although his retort is unquestionably rude, it is understandable that he lashes out.

Also, Henry has no way of knowing that Micke is a deadbeat. He is just applying a common stereotype (and potentially making assumptions based on the views Simon just expressed on welfare).

1.02: parallel but separate experiences

Early in this episode, we see Simon side-eye Henry and Walter for the paid tutoring. He decides to follow their example, but as we know he can’t actually afford it, we can already guess it won’t go as well for him as it did for them.

Next, we see Henry in the group as the rowing team ignores Simon at morning training. The camera also pans to him and Walter when August gives that bizarre speech about Simon’s class journey.

These moments highlight how different life at Hillerska (and beyond) looks for Henry and Simon. They are technically coexisting and even doing the same things, but their experiences are nothing alike.

However, there is also some potential for development here. August’s words about rowing bringing people together (and also about the class journey) should absolutely be taken with a heap of salt, but as we no longer see any open animosity between Henry and Simon, we can still wonder if rowing played a part.

Being on the same sports team is an entirely new frame of reference for these guys. They are no longer just the sosse and aristocrat who have been going to school together since pre-canon and clashing over their views; they are crewmates. They may be able to ignore each other for most of the time, but they may also have to do some team activities or even cooperate on occasion. At the very least, they will be around each other several extra times a week from late September/early October to Christmas break. This could definitely help to put them on more neutral ground.

1.05: Henry pays attention to Wilmon

In this episode, Henry learns more about Wilmon than the average Hillerska student knows. He is present when August tells the Society that Wille and Simon “hang out”, and also when Wille changes the plan from Simon to Alexander.

What’s more, he actually looks fairly thoughtful leaving that last meeting. We don’t know if it’s just shock over Wille’s ruthlessness, if he’s thinking about the plan to set up Alexander, or if there’s something else on his mind.

Now, this may veer into overinterpretation, but for the sake of thoroughness, let’s also include the blink and you’ll miss it moment before the Lucia procession where Henry notices Wilmon texting each other. In this cropped screenshot, you can see him looking at Simon, who has just put his phone down and is looking over at Wille.

1.06: Henry shows restraint

As we know, Henry is the only classmate who tries to treat Wille normally after the video, asking if he “saw the match yesterday” (he absolutely knows Wille didn’t). What is perhaps less noticeable is that he also shows more restraint than most of his schoolmates when the rumour mill gets going.

In this scene, Henry is pretty dispassionate reminding Walter that Wilmon sat next to each other at movie night and the two of them talked about it. There is a stark contrast to Walter, who absolutely pounces on that bit of gossip.

This one quick scene could just be a coincidence, but the same thing happens again when Wilmon return to school. Instead of engaging with the others who are all eagerly talking and whispering, Henry is already sitting at his desk minding his own business when Wille arrives. His only reaction to Simon showing up is this quick look, which is immediately followed by his show of kindness to Wille:

So the restraint does look very intentional.

As an aristocrat, monarchist and Society boy, Henry is loyal to Wille, who he now knows has been carrying on with Simon for a while already. He also knows how far Wille went to protect Simon, despite the fact that Simon had actually supplied the drugs, so he is going to side with Wille.

What’s more, Henry’s behaviour in these scenes also confirms that he isn’t hostile to Simon. We can surmise he probably doesn’t think Simon is the most appropriate choice of partner for the crown prince, but he is willing to take his cues from Wille. We never see him sneer, joke, or say anything nasty about Wilmon as a couple (cf. Stella and Fredrika joking about surrogacy).

We are also shown his reaction to Wille hugging Simon before we move on to season two.

2.02: the floorball hug and walk-by

The first interaction between Henry and Simon in S2 is them celebrating a floorball goal with a spontaneous hug, as seen at the top of this post. What a difference a term makes!

Now, I don’t think this moment is meant to signify that they are friends all of a sudden, and I do feel it comes slightly out of the blue. I suspect it was included as a nod to those who already liked Henry after S1, but I for one would’ve preferred to actually see their reconciliation.

But then again, if their initial antagonism was always class conflict rather than personal beef, maybe there was no need for apologies…? Maybe each of them just accepted that the other was going to be around and decided to try and get along (potentially aided by their shared rowing team history)? Henry is following Wille’s lead as we already saw – and as for Simon, I doubt he would be hugging Henry even in the heat of a game if he held a grudge. Whether we saw it or not, they have moved on.

In the same episode, we also have the locker room scene.

Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t believe Henry actually overhears the entire conversation, but he may have still heard something about them having to wait two years (as Simon did raise his voice for that). It’s also possible he comes out of this scene assuming that Wilmon still “hang out” in secret. In any case, he probably assumes that Wille wants to keep the whole thing quiet, as per the usual “policy” on queer relationships among the upper classes. In addition to his monarchist ways, he also seems to be casually friendly with Wille in S2 (keeps inviting him to do stuff, from coffee to pranking Sprucewood). So it makes a lot of sense for him to keep whatever he overhears or suspects to himself.

2.03, 2.05 and 2.06: book report scenes

While Henry must be a nightmare to have in the group, he and Simon are nice to each other in all the book report scenes. This is further proof that they are in a place where they can talk civilly and even work together.

They start the project before the rowing race and only present it the day before the gun range scene, which means they had these group sessions for at least a few weeks (the timeline is a bit wonky here).

2.04: Henry snitches on Wille and Felice

The lunch scene at the start of the episode starts with this bit of vicarious interaction, as Henry and Simon (and Wille too) are amused by the nonsense Walter is spouting about girls:

Also, Walter's monologue feels more comphet every time rewatch it, but I digress.

As this post is focused on Henry and Simon, I’m not going to dig too deep into Henry’s role in spreading the story about Wille and Felice. Suffice it to say that he did tell his canonically gossipy bestie Walter, and it was recently pointed out to me that he seems to have let something slip to someone else as well. In the common room, Walter goes “det var du som sa till…” [you were the one who said to…] just as the focus shifts to Wille and Nils, which suggests that Henry either purposely told someone or misspoke without realising it. The latter would explain why he seems genuinely appalled when Wille confronts him, but it’s not a hill I’d be willing to die on!

If Henry did spread the story on purpose, I assume it was because getting with Felice was considered a credit to Wille and also “fair game” to tell, unlike the relationship with Simon that Wille wanted to keep hidden.

Still, Henry and Simon are definitely on better terms in S2. Even though Henry inadvertently causes pain to Simon with his part in the Wille and Felice thing, they still keep working together on the book report without any animosity.

Insofar as Henry’s lacklustre effort can be called working. Simon is a bigger person than I am for not blowing up at him when he announces minutes before the presentation that he won’t be taking any questions.

3.01: background Henry

We start S3 off with this one-sided interaction where Henry reacts to Wilmon kissing with a mild smirk. No more waiting or secrets to keep.

3.02: double standards on the camping trip

It’s not entirely clear what Henry is thinking when he says the infamous line about gay couples being allowed to share but not straight ones. I think some people read it as him deliberately putting Wilmon on the spot, but personally, I doubt he even realises it’s going to make them uncomfortable. He’s just noticing the double standard and pointing it out to mess with the teacher.

While Simon is very clearly not pleased with Henry for the comment (glares at him while saying to Wille that people are going to think they plan to have sex), he does not seem to hold that against him. Because what we do see them doing soon?

Sitting next to each other by the fire, even though Henry could’ve easily sat with Walter and Simon with Wille:

Also, it seems Henry isn't new to camping, as he tells Wille that part of the fire is too hot to grill a sausage in.

The part where things get interesting is when Henry acts classist towards the Marieberg students.

Henry seems to be down with meeting Rosh and Ayub, who are there as Wille and Simon’s friends. But after Fredrika brings up New York, he agrees that the situation turned “stiff as fuck.” That stiffness was entirely Fredrika’s fault (I think she is at least semi-consciously trying to mark herself as the most compatible partner for Stella there), but Henry seems to feel it was more about Rosh and Ayub not fitting in.

He also sneers and makes nasty comments when the other Marieberg students get into an altercation with Malin, which elicits a frown from Simon.

And yet, Simon does not condemn Henry as strongly as he might have done in the past.

Importantly, Simon tells Wille “it wasn’t the right time for everyone to meet.” This indicates that he could’ve imagined them all getting along at a better time, and it’s pretty clear that also includes Henry. Furthermore, “you [meaning Wille and the others] don’t realise how privileged you are sometimes” is actually a pretty neutral way of putting it. Simon would have been entirely justified if he had said the others were classist pricks, but he blames their privilege and lack of understanding instead of their character.

All of this forms a backdrop for my interpretation of the scenes in the next episodes.

3.03: First of May

Simon: “You do know that you’re not off so you can party the day before, right?” Henry: “Uhh…what?” Simon: “It’s the First of May.” […] “The day of the labour movement?” Henry: “Okay, so what’s their style? How do they celebrate?” Simon, scoffing: “You don’t celebrate. You demonstrate.” [Henry and Walter share a chuckle]

This may be a controversial take, but I don’t think Henry is being particularly nasty to Simon here.

He actually looks and sounds quite sincere asking how the labour movement celebrates. When he and Walter laugh, it reads more as “there he goes again, our very own sosse, saying wacky things!” than the kind of disdain he expressed towards the Marieberg students in the last episode.

Simon also doesn’t take the laughter as an insult; he’s just stupefied by their ignorance. Also, note that he already scoffed at Henry’s question, marking the question as silly.

This exchange is immediately followed by Vincent attacking Simon for his beliefs, which feels like an intentional trick to create contrast between his and Walty’s treatment of Simon.

3.04: the lollipop

In this scene, Henry starts out asking quite nicely and seriously if Simon has another lollipop, as if they had that kind of rapport. Simon makes a face, but then he just shakes his head and nicely says no. It’s only then that Henry switches to offering money for the already half-eaten lollipop, to which Simon reacts with disbelief.

He does not, however, get snarky with Henry. He settles for exchanging a look with Wille as Walty go on to complain about the hunger strike. Only when Henry isn’t present anymore does he point out to Wille how ridiculous Henry was being.

In a sort of parallel to the lunch scene, Simon and Wille now share a chuckle at the wacky thing Henry said:

Feel free to disagree, but I actually wonder if this could be a common pattern between Simon and Henry. They have accepted that they aren’t going to see eye to eye on many things, but instead of getting into conflict, they just roll their eyes/laugh at how the other can seriously believe/say such things. Then they let the conversation move on to something else.

Which is a perfectly valid dynamic. They can acknowledge that their outlooks on life are wildly different without hating each other for it.

3:06: Henry includes Simon

Look, I dislike the library scene as much as the next person. The talk that Henry interrupts between Wilmon was so much more important than anything he could possibly say. It was just a moment of comic relief that didn’t add anything to the story.

Except… Now that we are tracing Henry and Simon’s “not-quite friendship” arc, this scene does give us a conclusion.

Henry: “Hi! Uh, what are you wearing tonight?” [He rambles on about clothes] Wille: “I don’t know if… If I’m coming.” Henry: “Okay…?” Simon: “I don’t know if I can come either.” Henry: “Oh come on, you two have to come!” [He rambles on about how much fun it will be] Simon: “Yeah, we��ll see. I have to go now.” Henry: “The point is that we have to be together! This is the only night we have together, maybe ever. [I mean, we are brothers!]”

In Swedish, Henry goes “vi är ju bröder” just as the music starts. This has been translated to “we are like brothers” in the English CC, which is already quite something, but the little word ju makes the original even stronger. It means that something is true, so instead of just saying they are like brothers, Henry is saying that is what they are.

(In the dub, there is an audible pause after like, so Henry is actually using it as a filler word. They should have put a comma in the CC to denote that.)

Given that Henry prefaces this ramble with “you two have to come” and barely stops to acknowledge Simon’s exit, there’s every reason to assume he is still talking about all of them. He is saying he considers himself, Wille, and also Simon part of the brotherhood that will be disbanded indefinitely come morning and wants them all to have one last night of fun together.

Simon never hears the brothers part and is of course frustrated with Henry for interrupting, but he still takes his leave on a casually friendly note. He gets that Henry wants him to come and have fun (Henry is unaware that Simon doesn’t drink when he tries to persuade them both by talking about the alcohol). Thus, Simon politely says “we will see” even though he has zero intention of going.

We do not see them interact at the party when Simon goes after all, but we do hear Henry being ushered away when Simon comes to talk to Wille. We don’t see it’s Henry, but someone insists that he wants to stay just as we see Walter and Alexander leave, and all three of them were there moments before:

I’m tempted to end this with a parallel to Wille’s initiation party.

Way back in 1.01, Henry and Simon were explicitly shown discussing the first party with their friends. They never talked about it with each other or interacted there – Henry attended as part of the in-crowd, and Simon only got to go because he supplied the alcohol. But for this last party, Henry was the one to get the alcohol, and he specifically invites Simon to come. They still don’t hang out as they are both there with their respective friends, i.e. in their own bubbles, but those bubbles do bump into/brush past one another without clashing.

Kind of like Henry and Simon’s lives.

Thank you for reading this marathon post! I hope my take on these two brings something to your next rewatch, whether you agree with me or not!

[deedeeznoots]

You’re? Correction! I’m Yours 

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, GN!Reader 

➺ Word Count: 900+ 

➺ Genre: Fluff

➺ Content: Non-Curse!AU, Nerd!Sukuna, Established Relationship (with some pre-relationship sprinkled in), Swearing

➺ A/N: Shout out to my wonderful mutual @heian-era-housewife for this post about Heian Era Sukuna doing poetry. If she’s reading this: I hope you don’t mind the tag but your post seriously inspired a huge chunk of these headcanons 🥹

➺ Synopsis: Headcanons of all the nerdy things Sukuna does because deep down inside that’s all he is and all he wishes to be ❤️

➺ At first glance he doesn’t read as someone who would be super nerdy or all that interested in learning. 

➺ I mean, can you blame anyone? No one really expects the dude constantly looking for a fight to pull up with some textbooks during his free time.

➺ Once you get to know him though, you realize that on the inside he is in fact a giant nerd about basically everything.

➺ It starts off subtly: at first you’d ask him questions and he’d be able to easily come up with answers without even giving it a second thought.

➺It could be a question about anything, regardless of the subject or perceived difficulty, and Sukuna would be able to explain it to you. Not only that, but he’d be able to explain it to you in a way that made it sound like the simplest thing in the world. 

➺ At one point you basically just started playing trivia and just started asking him stuff normal people didn’t know the answers for and he’d answer with ease, albeit he’d get really annoyed with your constant random questions.

➺ Sometimes if he’s really excited about a subject his explanations would turn into full lectures that’d put most college professors to shame.

➺ Although it was shocking at first, it started to make sense when you realized that the main reason why he takes time to learn about stuff is because he’s constantly bored and looking for new things to entertain him.

➺ He’s good at basically everything so long as it piques his curiosity, but his one and only love will forever be literature, mostly because of how infinite the possibilities are with the medium.

➺ He’s well versed in literature of all genres and different cultures, but he is the most drawn toward Japanese works (and let’s be honest, his favorites would probably come from the Heian Period).

➺ Ever since getting with you, he’s been leaning more toward the romance genre. Just in case he needs any inspiration on how to spice up your relationship, you know? 

➺ He’s taught himself multiple languages just for fun and to see how far he could go.

➺ He LOVES poetry, he both writes and reads it a lot and it’s his favorite hobby besides eating.

➺ Other than literature, he also has a huge fascination with art.

➺ He designed his own tattoos because he wanted to play with the idea of turning his body into a canvas. It also just so happened to make him look intimidating as hell which was a plus in his book.

➺ He also has a little journal that he carries around and he sketches a lot whenever he’s bored or sees something interesting.

➺ As for styles, he’s a really big fan of Sumi-e painting because he’s allergic to color but he basically just uses and does whatever he feels like at the moment. 

➺ He’s the type of person who draws what he sees, but he would especially enjoy drawing nature. 

➺ He would go out on hikes whenever he felt the need to draw and would walk until he found something interesting. 

➺ He’s really into meditation while he draws and he uses sketching as a way to keep himself level headed during particularly annoying days.

➺ He isn’t too fond of drawing people, but you’d be the exception. 

➺ He would 1000% draw you while you sleep. It’s the perfect time since you’d be still for most of it. 

➺ Sukuna is able to write really good cursive and also does calligraphy because he got bored one time (shocker) and so decided to see if he was able to do it well and to no one’s surprise, he was eventually able to.

➺ The reason why he leans towards the humanities so much is because they’re both subjects no one can really “master”. With both art and literature, there isn’t a point where someone knows absolutely everything about either subject. Since Sukuna loves a challenge, he wants to be the first person to go “Fuck you, I DO know everything about this”.

➺ One of the little things he does every day includes writing you short little romantic poems on a post it note and leaving them in out random spots for you to find. 

➺ Sometimes they would be in your pocket or other times on the bathroom mirror, wherever it is they would make you smile. 

➺ Though, sometimes he would stick them onto such odd spots that you’d wonder just how he did it?

➺ He has TONS of pride in his writing (to be fair, he’s prideful about basically anything he does) and he always appreciates it when you mention his little notes and complement the work he put into writing them.

➺ Sometimes when the both of you are talking together he’d say some of the most poetic sentences that you’ve ever heard like it’s nothing. 

➺ When you gasp he just goes “What? Why are you staring at me like that?” as if he didn’t randomly drop lines that sounded like they came from straight out of a novel.

➺ He’s a dick when it comes to spelling and grammar, especially during petty arguments.

➺ “How many times do I have to tell you, if your going to the restroom put the damn seat down afterwards” ➺ “It’s YOU’RE*, actually” ➺ “Fine, YOU'RE** a piece of shit Ryomen!”

➺ Don’t fret though, because while Ryomen Sukuna wants to know anything and everything there is to know about the world, he knows deep down inside that the best thing the world could have ever offered him was you.

-

➺ Edit: Okay I made this story quite a while ago but I HAVE ANOTHER HEADCANON TO ADD! I think his observation skills are super on point which is how he’s able to understand things so easily

A/N: Everyone list what you think Sukuna’s favorite book(s) would be 🗣️

A/N: If you enjoyed my thoughts on Sukuna, you’d love this story I also wrote paired with some headcanons! 

[sgiandubh]

Yes. Toddlers are 3 and below. However this doesn't mean Sam doesn't know her as a friend nor mean he hasn't met her son, as they are friends, not dating. We all know they had lunch as friends, he cheered her at event as friend. Photos and video prove this. The park story is a story, no photos, no proof of any of it being real. Before you go there, yes video he and Caitriona had some hug/peck at a concert, but still no proof of marriage, nor romantic anything or intoxication. Believe what you want, beliefs aren't truths.

Dear Beliefs Aren't Truths Anon,

Congratulations, you have won the Weekly Audio bingo, since I am now speaking with more ease:

Excuse me, but... you accuse me of lying?

With such desperate arguments?

A question in return for you, Anon: did you, by any chance, grow up with a single/divorced parent?

I did. And while I have discussed at great length Sarah H's irresponsible ways of exposing her underage son to Internet's predatory scrutiny (and potentially worse), I can assure you:

No single/divorced mother would bring along her son for Hogmanay at some vague, single, male friend's house.

No single/divorced mother would send her son for a walk in the park, on a Sunday early (and chilly) morning with that same vague, single, male friend of hers.

Unless they date. Which we both agree they weren't.

The above are simply not done. Not ever, not in any culture on Earth.

So, if they are friends (as you say), that means you guys spent literally months in a row in empty, mendacious speculation about Nothing At All, triggered by the fanfic written by a troll. I mean, just WOW, Anon. I have no words: mature women, who have a life, peeking into a stranger's whereabouts. I hope you are proud of yourself!

And doll - I happen to believe they were mutually beneficial acquaintances, for a very clear purpose (more followers for her and a naive diversion from his real life, aka the Elephant in the Room, for him). That is all. Things have noticeably chilled since she overexposed her son on the Web, yet she might make a cameo later on the timeline, if desperation requires it. Happened before, you see.

And yes, I will always go back 'there', Anon, simply because I know what I saw with my own eyes (and I am not the only one). Also, you seem to fail making the logical difference between being intoxicated with alcohol (one of your side's most pathetic, ludicrous 'arguments' ever ) and being infatuated with someone. That is how I know your English vocabulary is as poor as your logic or common sense, Anon. And I am sorry, so fucking sorry to bother you, buttercup, but that Taylor Swift kiss was caught on video alright.

Thank you for confirming toddlers are aged 3 and below, in the meanwhile. And thank you for confirming that basically three months after I finally published that Park Anon I was sent (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/751391542332325888/i-always-read-the-comments-on-sams-posts-because), you are still as unsettled by it as on Day 1.

Now you tell me what that means, in your book, Anon. Because in mine that surely smells of slow burning despair.

[Later Edit, not on audio]: ah, yes, that friendly, ripe with innuendo London lunch. So long for that poor convenient imbecile, the Brazilian Journo, eh? She thought Sarah was his lover and here you are, Anon, bursting her post-teenage inacceptable bubble.

Wasn't she explaining with great impertinence that shippers were in need of immediate medical attention? I wonder what she would do if she'd meet me in an official capacity, really. Probably go hide and cry.

But this is great, Anon, I mean wow - you surely KNOW stuff, eh?

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part one

⭑ part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 1.4k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, modern au!ellie, feelings of angst, sexual themes on like the verge of smut, some swearing

a/n: hey lovelies!!!! this my first time posting a fic so plz enjoy. feedback is appreciated as long as it is constructive. im new to all of this, and still learning. i plan on making this into a series so expect more coming soon. sorry if this chapter is very reader-centric. once reader gets to know ellie better, i’ll write more about her perspective. this will be a slow burn despite part 1 already having sexual themes (lol sorry, couldn't help it), but do expect eventual real smut <3 <3 (p.s: lets b mutuals, message me!!)

As you packed the last of your belongings into your parents' 2008 Toyota, excitement was the last thing you were feeling. When speaking about college, most people explained this coming of age experience with phrases like “change”, “hard work”, and “no sleep”. These pessimistic descriptions made the big move that much harder. Unlike your friends from high school, you were crossing multiple states to attend your dream school. You would’ve been stuck in your home state too if it wasn’t for your impressive art portfolio which earned you a full-ride. Art school is where you know you’re meant to be, but the anxiety of doing it alone lingered.

Of course you were happy to be escaping the grapples of your small Republican town, but you couldn’t help but wonder if 1,500+ miles would really be the solution to all your problems.

                                          ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“God where is she??” you grunt to yourself. The brown swivel chair provided as dorm furniture was your only source of entertainment. You spun around in circles, checking your phone every few minutes. You were anticipating a text from Ellie Williams. Through the cracked screen your phone read 11:03pm and the notification wall was empty.

Ellie is supposed to be your roommate. The two of you had met through the university's online roommate matching system. Your interactions were limited to the few texts sent back and forth about move-in times and who’s bringing what. Ellie was supposed to show up 5 hours ago to move in her stuff but she never arrived. You consider messaging her to check-in but Ellie’s previous texts wreaked of un-interest so you thought it best to leave her alone. You knew nothing about the girl, or even what she looked like, but with her stand-offish demeanor and your overthinking, a friendship didn’t seem in the cards.

Another half-hour passes before the sound of keys rattling pulls you out of your trance. Realizing you’re about to be face-to-face with your new college roommate, you snap up from your slouched position and push your hair behind your ears in preparation.

The slender door lazily swings open and your gaze quickly shifts to the faux wood floors. There was a sense of hesitancy, like you weren’t ready to see your fate just yet. A pair of dirty, black converse covered in writing sulk into your line of sight, triggering you to look up. As you did, your eyes were met with the most jaw-droppingly beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Peeking through her messy auburn locks were piercing jade green eyes and an angular nose scattered with freckles.

It was Ellie Williams, and she was the epitome of “cool girl". Your head spun with all kinds of thoughts as your physical body went idle. You sat before Ellie gawking until she broke the awkward silence that had gone unnoticed by you. 

“Uh, hi… I’m sorry for coming in so late… some stuff came up. But uh, I’m Ellie Williams.” She held her right hand out towards you to shake it. It took you a second, but you snapped out of her spell and quickly shook her hand in return.

“Shit- Ellie, hey, it’s uh, nice to finally meet you.” You stumbled through your words as nerves overpowered your usual confidence.  There was an obvious awkward tension between the two of you. A typical feeling when moving in with a complete stranger.

Silence loomed in the air as Ellie took a stationary tour around the small, 12 x 20 ft. dorm. She surveyed your side of the room, taking note of any items that could hint towards who you are as a person. Her eyes stopped on a band poster you had hung up just hours ago. 

“You listen to Sleater-Kinney?” she inquired. 

“Hell yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands. Honestly anything in the riot grrrl music scene is right up my alley. Do you listen?” you replied with more enthusiasm and less nerves than before. 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Ellie answered nonchalantly. You took note of her answer realizing what it could mean. Sleater-Kinney was like the gayest band ever, and Ellie definitely knew that. Maybe she just likes them for their music, but it's possible she also found the lyrics laced with sapphic pining to be relatable. Selfishly, you were dying to know her sexual orientation. Ellie seemed like too much of a stranger to ask her outright and so the game of reading between the lines began. Little did you know, Ellie was wondering the exact same thing about you. 

It was getting late and Ellie decided to save unpacking for the morning when she wasn’t so tired. You climbed onto your stiff dorm mattress and fluffed your pillows for sleep. Ellie did the same in her bed. 

“Is it cool if I turn out the lights now?” you asked, still navigating the new social dynamic as roommates. Ellie replied with a gentle hum and you hit the switch turning the room pitch black. As you lay in bed all you can think of is Ellie and the future. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew she was special, and you yearned to understand her. With these thoughts in mind, your eyes slowly begin to droop and you slip into a deep slumber. 

The next thing you know Ellie is sitting at the foot of your bed staring straight into your soul. Her beautiful green eyes felt especially intense as the rest of her face was shadowed from the dark room. 

“Ellie- I-” you could barely get out 2 words as you sat up from bed flustered. You felt like prey and she was the hunter… and you liked it. Ellie slowly inched her way toward you, crawling on hands and knees. She didn’t have to say anything, you knew what she wanted.

Your plush thighs sat between her knees and her crotch hovered over yours, heat being exchanged. You wanted her so bad. You needed her. Ellie took your chin in her hand and pulled you in close. You exchanged breaths as her lips brushed up against yours. She couldn’t wait any longer and pressed her face into yours, capturing your lips which she so longingly desired for. You fell back onto your pillows and she followed intently.

Her body lay pressed against yours and she desperately shoved her wet tongue into your supple mouth. It was ravenous and you wanted more. You knew she did too as you began to feel the rotation of her hips digging into your pelvis. The heavy breaths coming from her swollen lips were in sync with the fervent grinding. You bucked your hips towards her in a frenzy. Ellie took her veiny hand and ran it along your waistband. As she began to slip it into your pants... you woke up to discover your own hands cupping the heat below and Ellie nowhere to be found. 

“What the fuck.” is all you could say. You pulled your hand from your pants and stared at the slick spider-webbing between your fingers. God this was humiliating. You climbed out of bed to wash your hands and glanced at the clock. It was 7:15am and Ellie was already gone. That seemed kinda odd for a 19 year old college student. You wondered where she had disappeared to so early in the morning.

Soon, the over-thinker took over and you began to grapple with the possibility that you said something out loud during your naughty wet dream. What if Ellie heard you? God what if you moaned her name?? What would you even say if she brought it up? Before you could formulate a hypothetical response, Ellie walked right through the door.

“AHh-” you yelped, startled by her presence. Ellie backed into the doorway holding a coffee in each hand. 

“God, sorry, you scared me.” you explained. Ellie shuffled back inside, twiddling her thumbs trying to decide what to say.

“Sorry, I just left to grab some coffee early this morning. I couldn’t sleep.” She continued, “I brought you one too. As an apology, for any trouble I might have caused by showing up at almost midnight to move in…”. Your cheeks flushed with color and you hoped she didn’t notice.

“Oh, thanks Ellie, that's nice. I promise there was no harm done.” you answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Seemingly enough, this news meant she was awake while you were, ya know... dreaming. Ellie definitely wouldn’t bring a pervert coffee though. Right? Either way, you knew one thing for sure, you've got to have her.

  ← masterlist ⭑ part 2 →

[helluvathings]

Random observation, but I've seen a lot of posts in this fandom that begin something like "I know everyone has been hating on (insert either Blitzø or Stolas), and it's unfair because..." And it's funny, because I remember a poll a while back asking who's in the right, and something like 70+ percent of respondents said they were both part of the problem. The vast majority is neutral.

I mean, obviously it's human nature where if you have a favorite, and people are writing essays against your favorite, it feels like that character is being attacked from all sides. But I wonder if part of the perception that either everyone is against Stolas, or everyone is against Blitzø, doesn't also have to do with the way feedback toward each tends to appear.

This is just experiential so take it with a grain of salt, but the comments on the episodes, as well as reaction videos, tend to be biased for Stolas. Which makes sense. He's more openly vulnerable. Seeing his pain is easier, and his mistakes are subtler. He expresses love, grief, and sorrow like a Disney princess, through song and romantic gestures. Since his mistakes are typically subtle and only really reacted to by Blitzø (bristly, temperamental) or Octavia (so-called angtsy teenager), they stand out less on a first watch.

Blitzø's mistakes are bigger, volatile. His pain manifests in an uglier way. On first watch, reactors tend to dismiss him as a jerk/idiot/or even a villain. But further analysis, context, deeper thought, add complexity to his character, and the more you consider Blitzø's perspective, the more serious Stolas's (accidental) missteps feel. In light of that, seeing all the initial positive responses to Stolas can be frustrating, because it's like no one is looking deeper: so essays/videos show up detailing all the reasons that yes, Stolas is wrong too, almost as a reaction to the more positive initial Stolas takes.

I do think there are more in-depth 'Stolas messed up' essays than Blitzø ones, because everyone knows Blitzø messed up. The show makes it clear. Stolas is less obvious. His issues haven't been strongly addressed in his character arc, and sometimes get glossed over by casual reactions/analyses. And that can get frustrating to people who want to see both sides.

At the same time, if you're a Stolas fan looking for reactions, the abundance of 'this is why Stolas isn't great' content probably does get discouraging. People sort of take his sympathetic qualities for granted, and dig into his flaws. While people take Blitzø's flaws for granted and dig into his sympathetic qualities.

At least that's my two-cents for why some fans seem to feel everyone is favoring one side or another, when it seems like most the fandom does recognize mutual fault.

[iceclew]

SO IN CASE ANYBODY WONDERED..

here is my take on Jesper and Keith without mask/helmet.

AND SOME DOODLES

shit I fell HARD for them...

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters, neither is this by any means canon, it's just my take on what I feel I would like them to look like. Characters belong to Skyrim Tales, entirely.

*phew* it was only when I chatted with fellow simp/mutual that I realized, it would have made MUCH more sense for them to have long hair... it would fit way better in the skyrim law .........But, BEFORE I thought about that, those faces came to my mind.. Keith should have ..more northern-like traits, but ended up...weirdly roman? I have not lived down men with goatees just yet....

And Jesper is said to be not North, so i kinda played around a bit and ... yeah, whatever it is that came up to me, at this point, why am I trying to justify this, I felt locks and freckles and let's be real here I bottomed him hard in this.. like.. is there anything I forgot that would scream even more "Bottom" to you?

*silence*

...

OK so because this post IS NOT LONG ENOUGH YET DOWN BELOW ARE SOME OF MY HEADCANONS:

(Sorry for horrible spelling and grammar)

Jesper is actually a quite anxious person and copes with not taking off his helmet. Even when off-duty, or singing. Almost no one in Whiterun saw his face so far.

He is so used to wear the guard's uniform ever since childhood, everything else let's him feel right out exposed to the world. Like all of his flaws and weaknesses are presented on the plate to be played with and take advantage of by everybody around him. His face is totally fine btw, nothing unuasual but a few freckles spread across it (cause i love freckles).

The uniform and helmet is a huge confidence boost for him, and he himself is feeling much more authorical with it. Not like - gettin' into macho mansplaining mode, but rather like feeling like a normal decent human. And by now he kinda takes it to an extreme, meaning, if he was ever about to take it off in front of others, he'd just be super nervous about it, and can't keep eye contact, so he heavily tries to avoid those situations.

He believes exposing his face in conversation would make him extra vulnerable, since he is a rather touchy soul, constantly wearing his emotions on his face and he's aware of that..(can you describe it like that? idk) He got bullied a lot from young age, and with helmet on, people cannot respond to his expression and will not confront him about it as much. He is still kinda expressive and easy to read even WITH helmet on - voice and postur giving away a lot - but still mot that obvious. He still gets bullied by his collegues, but feels like it could be worse).

He loves singing, but it's like - the prime example of his problem - so he's not daring to quit being a guard, take of his helmet and become a professional singer. There are some bard festivals around, he would love to visit, but never dared to, because he would only get sad from not being able to join the singers for good.

Keith is not fond of showing his face around either. But this solemly because of his profession. But he has a rather distinctive birthmark, where people would recognize him immediatelly if seen, so mask it is.

I feel Keith would be around 5 years older or smth? And since he is kind of a night owl by profession, plus up at daytime as well, he must have the most horrible eye bags of doom, one can imagine.

yeah, that's all I got for now... I know.. I'm a lot here already....

I have so many ideas, I hope I find more time and inspiration for stuff here, I'd love to draw them together, plus the whole crew as well, I really loved today's 3am vid. <3

[ageravena]

You know what, the Fairly OddParents fandom has been quite tame. Let's spice things up a little bit.

Doesn't anybody else get that silly feeling when you see fanart of Peri being like a father to Dev, like... where's the rest of you 😍? Don't be shy, show us where Dale is. Or are you too scared? (I wouldn't blame you, I was too at first)

Small warning: this post includes slight swearing and many brain-numbing headcanons. I'm not responsible for any mental anguish you may experience

I would like to quickly apologize to the 6 people shipping Peri with Dale. I thought I was the only one but it seems like I've finally found my people. Anyways, back to the topic.

Now that you're here, I may as well show some more art of these two goobers +some silly headcanons. These are my AUed* versions of the two in my odd semi-realistic style that I completely ditch whenever I don't have the patience to draw faces (I often suck at drawing them. No wonder all my OCs are furries)

Note: him being slightly chubby and him having mobility issues are both headcanons I have shamelessly borrowed from others in the fandom. Also am I the only one who thinks Peri WOULDN'T be 6 ft tall? In the series he's like 5 apples tall, so wouldn't it make sense for him to be a bit short?

Note: there's like a bunch of lore explaining the reason why Dale looks so fucked up in my version. I scarred him for life, oopsie! But at least he has Peri now who "forces" him to go to therapy 😍. I may need to make a seperate post where I only talk about him and his past if I have the motivation.

I know a lot of you don't even know the pain of trying to convert a stylized character into a realistic style and still making them look good and kinda recognizable. I envy you who have less realistic art styles.

*And yes, I did say AU. More specifically I'm talking about the "Missionaries of Eden AU" (by me). I'm not gonna go into detail now, but basically it's a semi-biblical and more serious take on FOP, where the fairies are angels, anti-fairies are demons and pixies... I think they can stay as pixies, or maybe they're ghosts, bees? (There's a lot of things I still need to figure out) Their tasks are to work as missionaries on the planets of Eden (planets where life exists). There's a bunch of other lore (some of which I've explained on my casual/personal account on Instagram), but it's best I leave it for another time.

Btw: if you've seen me talk about a "Below the Stars AU", "Bible AU", "Ager DLC" or something else, it's all just the same thing. I just had a hard time coming up with a good name for it lol.

Also speaking of which, I have another post coming up (hopefully) where I explain my reasons for shipping Peri and Dale. It can honestly, out of context, seem like a toxic yaoi crack ship, but believe it or not but I managed to make it the opposite; plausible AND healthy. I want to enlighten you all plus I really want to yap about them.

It feels super funny to ship such a underrated ship. I'm used to shipping semi-popular ships, so to now be all alone feels kinda fun! They have so much potential and so few are seeing the vision?? Though to be fair I'm also glad it's not that famous lmao.

Ps. Ignore the fact I haven't posted anything here for at least half-a-year. All my mutuals are on Instagram, so I don't have a need to post here, though now I've decided to dedicate this account to hyperfixation slop so maybe you'll be hearing from me much sooner.

Ps. Ps. I currently have a 22-page-long google doc filled with lore and info about almost everything I've thought of for the AU, but it's 80% in Finnish so sharing it is useless.

Man, I love writing unnecessary long posts knowing I'm the only one reading them❤️😍 though if you HAVE gotten this far, here's a little treat:

My body refuses to draw Dale in his original outfit. I like to pretend Peri helped him change a bit (most notably taking off his goddamn shoes, though they do have some lore that I've created. GGHHRRAAA EVERYTHING HAS LORE ATTACHED TO IT GRRRR). Also Dev isn't actually grumpy, he just likes to act tough.

My art style looks probably so inconsistent❤️

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Twelve: All in Blue Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 21.2k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: frenemies dynamic, PTSD, nightmares, guilt, shame, Bridd isn't doing very well mentally, bickering, I loved Lily, Lily is such a stupid jerk and I love her for it, near death experience, flashbacks, minor character deaths, violence, blood, strong language, everyone at this point needs a hug, homesickness, illness, major character injured, trauma bonding, they definitely have a big-sis-little-sis dynamic going on, sarcasm, everyone in the fic has my sense of humor and I'm sorry I'm not funnier, fire magic, this is one of the more "boring" chapters depending on who you ask, mostly traveling and small arguments, until something changes, I just really like their dynamic and wanted to showcase it a lot, psychosis, learning more about Lustra's history, dumb bird jokes because why not?, I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I'm super ahead for TTW right now, and because of the long hiatus I thought posting an extra chapter before the year was over was a great present to those who love this story as much as I do.

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The days blurred together as we trudged through the forest. I couldn't tell when one ended and the next began—just this constant rhythm of exhaustion as we pushed on toward the mountains. The trees stretched high above us, thick and ancient, their branches weaving into a dark canopy that barely let in any light. Everything below was muted in mossy green, an eerie half-light that felt alive.

Every step felt heavier than the last, the path twisting in ways that kept us on edge, making every mile harder to bear. The silence between Lily and me only made it worse. It was a silence filled with tension, our brief moments of peace fragile enough to break—and sometimes they did. We’d snap at each other, sharp and heated, until there was nothing left but the hollow feeling that came after a fight. Then we’d go back to walking, simmering with everything we hadn’t said, unable to let it go.

Lily was a hurricane. Fierce, chin high, baby blue eyes blazing—she threw words like knives when she was mad enough. Never below the belt, but always enough to sting. And I was no better. I met her glare for glare, word for word, each exchange becoming a contest we both needed to win. It was like striking a flint, both of us desperate to spark something—just to feel anything besides the numbness that the blurred days brought us. But when the arguments faded, I’d catch a glimpse of something softer in her.

If I had a cough, she’d make me tea from whatever plants and herbs she could find. When I was tired, she’d insist we stop and rest. If I got stuck, eyes glazed over, flames and screams dancing across my vision like I was back home, she’d ask me what color the sky was, and we’d play I-Spy for a few hours.

It wasn’t all bad, but I could say with almost complete certainty that we were two hotheads trying our best to bite our tongues before we started another round of bickering.

The forest only made the tension worse. Shadows seemed to shift around us, almost as if they were laughing at our arguments, at our hopeless journey. I’d wondered a few times if it was the fae and their games. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for them, and very few were able to come out of the Hollow Below without first being summoned. The thought of them laughing at us only made me angrier, and my irritation would rise.

Unfortunately for me, Lily was far better at quick-witted insults, and I’d end up stewing alone, back to the campfire, pretending to sleep.

Each night, we’d set up camp with an invisible line drawn between us, both unwilling to cross it. The fire would flicker in the gap between us—warm, but never enough to thaw the wall we’d built. Yet, in those rare moments, when she looked at me without the bite in her eyes, it felt different. Softer. Like maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

I’d never asked her how old she was, but the few strands of silver in her black hair, the smile lines, and crow's feet told me she might be around Yoona or Thelma’s age. All of us lived long lives, witches the longest of the three, but I’d heard hybrids and shapeshifters had similar lifespans. Hybrids lived slightly longer since shifting took so much energy and strength.

I hoped that made Jimin and me evenly matched. I couldn’t imagine living a single second longer than him, and I was certain if I went first, he’d follow me soon after. Wolves couldn’t live without their mates. The thought of Jimin dying made me far more upset than I already was, so I pushed that thought to the back of my mind.

Finally, after days of endless trees and winding trails, the Ozryn Mountains appeared, jagged and dark against the horizon—so close, but still so far. Progress.

I looked over at Lily and found her already smiling back at me. Her smile softened her face, making her look so much younger. Her dimples shone prettily in the light, the diamond studs a soft baby pink. Her gold teeth hit the sun, and my eyes immediately locked on the two ruby gems on the other side of her mouth. Lily said she got them done as repayment for helping a jeweler’s family get their supplies back from a couple of thieves in Whopping. Reds and pinks were her favorite colors, and I thought they looked nice. She was a beautiful woman despite her scarring and less-than-appealing attitude.

“We won’t have much cover going through the desert,” she told me, her voice raspy. “We’ll need to stay vigilant. Keld’s Landing will be the next forest before we’re in the tundra.”

I nodded. “We’ll make it.”

Lily hummed and continued walking.

One afternoon, we came to a fork in the road, the trail splitting into two narrow paths. Lily glanced down one and nodded, her voice crisp and unwavering. “We take the left,” she said, pointing toward the path that disappeared into a curve. Her tone was clipped, like it wasn’t up for debate.

“No,” I said, feeling the familiar frustration build. I pulled out the map, unfolding it with more force than necessary. “The right leads straight to the mountains.” The paper crinkled loudly as I jabbed a finger at the marked trail.

The sun was beaming down, scorching the back of my neck. The desert wasn’t like the ones I’d heard of in Idris—not blisteringly hot, but with tall rocky cliffs, massive hills we had to climb through and around, and most of the paths covered in thick layers of red dirt and sand. We’d found the current path using the map in my hands, and it made Lily’s stubbornness even more frustrating. The map was obviously useful.

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. “I’ve been this way before,” she said, her voice cold, dismissive. “The left is safer. Trust me.”

“And I’ve got the map,” I shot back, shaking it slightly for emphasis. We stood there, a silent standoff brewing between us, neither of us willing to back down.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “The right is quicker. We’ll save time.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe, but it’s a mess of dead ends and loose rocks. Do you want to make this harder? Don’t be naive, Y/N.”

My heart pounded, and my breathing grew shallow. I was going to explode if she kept this up. I wasn’t stupid.

“You were fine with the map before,” I argued.

“Because we weren’t sure where we were. I am now. The right trail is slightly faster, but there are rock warnings posted everywhere, and we’ll end up having to cut through even more dangerous areas trying to avoid the cliffs.”

I looked down at the map, doubt gnawing at the edges of my resolve. The lines blurred, exhaustion clouding my vision, and I glanced back at her, at her determined expression, her jaw set as if daring me to challenge her. Reluctantly, I felt my resolve waver.

“Fine,” I muttered, tucking the map away with a sigh. “We’ll go left. But if we get lost, it’s on you.”

A hint of satisfaction flickered in her eyes, and her tone softened. “We won’t get lost.”

The path was steep, lined with large, dead trees that closed in tighter as we moved. The silence still hung between us, but I could tell Lily was trying to soften me. She’d offer a hand when the trail got rough, and her voice lost a bit of its bite when she passed me a piece of bread. It didn’t help soften my resolve.

Call it pride or stubbornness, but I didn’t like being talked down to.

One night, we stopped to camp under a sky full of stars, the fire casting flickering shadows across the clearing. The cavern was still, the quiet wrapping around us, but for once, it didn’t feel heavy. We sat across from each other, tired and sore, but the silence didn’t press down on us the way it usually did.

The firelight danced in Lily’s eyes, and for a brief moment, there was no hardness, no anger—just the two of us, two people stuck together on a journey neither of us could make alone. It was strange, almost surreal, like some part of me had been waiting for this moment, for the quiet to settle between us without all the tension.

Lily’s voice broke the silence, softer than I was used to. “I can’t believe I’m doing this all over again,” she muttered, her hands busy stacking more firewood. There was something weary in her tone, a softness that hadn’t been there before.

I leaned back, feeling the ache of the day’s travel settle into my bones. “You’re better at it than I am,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

She shot me a look, her eyes narrowing, but there was a glimmer of humor there. “Flattery won’t get you out of it next time,” she said, tossing a log onto the fire. The flames crackled, sending warmth into the cold night air.

I sighed, settling onto my bedroll as the warmth of the fire seeped into me. The sounds of the forest surrounded us—leaves rustling, faint calls in the distance, and bugs chirping. It felt almost peaceful.

“Can I be honest with you for a moment?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the ire from my voice. That always meant she was going to say something that pissed me off. And she knew it. It was why she always tried to pretend it was in the name of honesty.

Really, it was her catch-all phrase for saying whatever she felt like and then acting all high and mighty when I got angry.

“Why ask?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice, no matter how hard I tried. “It’s never stopped you before.”

Lily’s voice came again, hesitant, in a way that caught me off guard. “Look, I don’t like arguing with you any more than you do,” she said, her gaze fixed on the flames. “We’re stuck together, whether we like it or not. So... I’ll try to cool it. But I need you to work with me.”

I scoffed, the words coming out before I could stop them. “You act like I’m the one who always starts it,” I snapped, irritation flaring up again. “Or should I remind you about how you caused this entire attitude issue you’re so mad about?”

Lily raised an eyebrow, folding her arms as her face hardened. “Oh, really?” she said, her tone thick with disbelief. “Care to explain that one?”

I felt the sting of her words, sharper than I wanted to admit. “You called me stupid,” I threw back, the memory still fresh and bitter. “I was trying to help, and you just... dismissed me. Didn’t even bother to apologize.”

She rolled her eyes, her voice sliding into that condescending edge that always got under my skin. “I did not call you stupid. I called you naive. There’s a difference. You’re out of your depth, and you’re too stubborn to admit it. If you’d just listen to me—”

“Naive, stupid—what’s the difference?” I shot back, getting to my feet, anger bubbling up. “You act like I don’t know anything, like I haven’t seen things, lived through things. You’ve known me for what, two weeks? You don’t know anything about me.”

For a split second, something shifted in her expression. The firelight flickered across her face, and her eyes softened, the harshness slipping away. “Then tell me,” she said quietly. “I can’t know if you don’t tell me.”

Her words lingered, raw and open, hovering between us. And for a second, I almost told her. Almost let it all spill out—the fears, the doubts, the parts of me I kept locked away. But the words tangled in my throat, too heavy, too real. I looked away, feeling the anger drain out of me, leaving only a dull ache behind.

“I need some air,” I muttered, turning before she could stop me, before she could ask me anything else.

“Wait,” she called after me, but I was already slipping into the darkness beyond the firelight, letting the shadows of the cliffs close around me.

A few minutes later, I was flying.

The days that followed were rough, each one feeling heavier than the last. Every step through that desert felt harder than the one before. We barely spoke, and when we did, the words were clipped, bordering on shouting each time we opened our mouths. Silence was easier than trying to find the right words—easier than pretending we were more than just two people stuck together out of necessity. It felt like a chasm had opened between us, growing wider each day.

But even in the silence, there were still those small moments that showed we still cared, even if we refused to say it. When the path got rough and I stumbled, her hand would still reach out, steadying me before I fell. When a fallen branch blocked our way, I’d offer my hand to help her over it. These moments were rare, but they were good reminders that we were still in this together. Whether we liked it or not.

The desert slowly began to give way, sand turning to dirt and mud, dying grass making way for glimpses of the Ozryn Mountains in the distance. They loomed closer, their dark, jagged peaks stark against the sky. We were getting closer, and I could already begin to smell the pine in the distance. We’d reach Keld’s Landing first, and then we’d finally be in the danger zone.

I was just as terrified as I was relieved.

Of course, the peace couldn’t last long. As we walked through the ever-thickening forest, I was thrown by the twists and turns the paths took—paths my map couldn’t always account for. I knew they were old, but how old didn’t really hit me until I found myself relying more on Lily’s judgment than the piece of parchment in my hands.

Then, we finally found a path that did line up with my map, and I was more than happy to jump at the chance to be useful. I stopped walking, looking up from the map. The path split into two directions, winding off into thicker areas of forest. We were still just barely on the outskirts, the aspens few and far between, many of them missing their pines. Lily stopped, studying the paths, her eyes narrowed.

I had a feeling we were about to have another argument and prepared myself to be willing to back off. Lily had been the bigger person during our last real spat, and I needed to learn to calm things down, too.

“Right,” she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for debate.

I took out the map, already feeling the tension coil between us. “This says left.”

She crossed her arms, her tone challenging. “I’ve been here before. The right path is safer.”

It only took a second for the argument to erupt, our voices bouncing off the trees, sharp and heated. But as we argued, something else crept in, a realization that was harder to ignore. We were fighting over nothing. I knew this map wasn’t the most reliable, and truthfully, Lily wasn’t saying anything to warrant my bad attitude. She was just trying to guide us—the only reason we were even traveling together. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold back the worst of my temper, even though I wanted nothing more than to tell her how right I was and how wrong she was.

Not to mention, we’d just had this fight a week ago.

“Fine,” I said, forcing the word out, each syllable heavy. “We’ll go right.”

She looked at me, surprise flickering across her face. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper.

We kept moving, the path winding through the ever-thickening forest. The grass was becoming greener, the trees fuller and more closely packed together. We were still a few miles out of Keld’s Landing, but I had a feeling we would get through it soon enough. If we were lucky, we could stay inside the forest long into the mountains, as it crossed throughout the southern regions of Ozryn. We’d have to cut across and start heading southeast eventually, but the trees would help protect us from the harshest winds the mountains had to offer.

That night, we made camp as stars began to prick through the deepening dusk. The silence between us wasn’t tense or uncomfortable; it was just... quiet. The fight from earlier was forgotten, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy or the desire to rehash it. We were adults—we needed to start acting like it. Liking each other was secondary to our mission. The fire cast warm light over us, softening Lily’s face. She looked more tired than I remembered, and a pang of guilt settled in my chest for the way I’d acted sometimes. Especially when it really didn’t matter who was right or wrong.

We were both going to the same place, and she was right—I was being naive and stupid if I thought I knew everything about surviving out here.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, each word carrying more weight than I intended.

“What for?”

I turned to look at her, her eyes staring into the flames. I wondered what she saw in them. I knew what they did to me. Some nights, I’d have to sleep as far away from the smoke as I could or else I couldn’t sleep. Cordelia would visit me in those moments, her eyes far away, that awful look on her face. Then I’d start to smell blood, and I’d need to get as far away from camp as I could without worrying Lily. I hoped nothing as horrible as that haunted her.

With the way she spoke about Duke, though, I wasn’t so sure.

“For putting up with me,” I sighed. “I’ve always been difficult and hard-headed. I’m just sorry you’re the one who has to deal with it.”

She glanced up at me, her eyes warm, a soft smile spreading across her face. “You don’t have to thank me. Let’s just get through this. Together.”

I nodded, and in that moment, something shifted inside me—a tiny ember of hope, barely there but undeniably real. It wasn’t much, but right now, it was enough.

“No need to apologize either,” she rasped, turning her gaze back to the fire. “I’m responsible for my own behavior, and I know I’m not the most accommodating. We’ll learn to get used to each other.”

“Don’t think we really have a choice.”

We both laughed softly.

The fire burned low, casting long shadows, and the forest around us was quiet, a peace settling over it that matched the calm between us. As Lily drifted off to sleep, I stayed by the fire, watching the embers glow in the darkness.

I thought of home, the wet grass and how it tickled my feet in the spring. The first time I met Yoongi. He was so small and tiny back then. A late bloomer, Aldara had called him. I couldn’t have been more than six at the time, and Yoongi was eight or nine. He’s only two years younger than Wendy and Jin, but at the time you’d have sworn we were the same age.

His hair was long, almost to his mid-back, puffing up in frizzy waves that floated everywhere. He was always shyer than me, but I remember the moment we locked eyes and how quickly I knew he’d be in my life forever. I chuckled to myself.

I had liked him when we were younger, but between Wendy and Nixie, I knew I didn’t want to push the boundaries of our friendship. The older I got, the more I saw him as a brother—the same way I saw Jin. Jimin’s reappearance in my life helped too. It was impossible to be in love with anyone else when those eyes locked on mine for the first time since that Yule night.

Yoongi knew, of course. Yoongi always knew everything. We talked about my crush and both came to the same conclusions. It was easy to fall in love with someone when you didn’t have any other options. That’s when he first told me about him and Delta. I never would’ve guessed Yoongi liked boys, but I also never would’ve thought he’d sneak around with Wendy’s sister behind her back.

God, the entire circle was so messed up. I hoped everyone was alright. I always kept them in check, and without that balance, I worried about how Jin would handle things.

Staring at the sky, I rolled my eyes. That boy…

He was like my little brother despite being four years older. We met when Hyolin came to the house to introduce herself to me. Jin always treated me like a pest back then, but that changed after I brought Wendy around a few years later. Things started with him using me to get closer to Wendy, but our friendship became more genuine than any other relationship he had. He had a bullying streak with Yoongi at the best of times due to his jealousy, and he was known to be selfish and immature even when he swore he wasn’t.

Wendy brought out the worst in him.

She always said it’s why she couldn’t stand being his girlfriend for more than a few weeks. He was suffocating and so hyper-fixated on the past that he couldn’t see what they had. When we were younger, in our teens, I laughed in her face and told her there wasn’t a past if she was still in love with Yoongi. Now, I felt for her more than I ever thought I could. They were both insanely selfish and put Yoongi in the middle of everything, but Wendy had always been clear and firm when it came to Seokjin. He just didn’t know when to quit, and she went out with him because it was easier than breaking his heart.

Love always had its way of complicating even the strongest of friend groups, and ours was no exception. It was a shame, really. We were always so good with one another back then...

When I left, it seemed like things were better between them this time around, but I knew things neither of them did. Things that would tear everything apart if they even heard the slightest whisper of it.

I didn’t know if Wendy could forgive Yoongi and me for keeping it from her, and I knew Jin would pick her side if it meant keeping her around. Nixie’s marriage could be at risk since many humans still held to the tradition of a woman being a virgin when wed, and Delta would be in a tight spot if word got out about him being gay. If it got back to his father, he’d risk losing his home.

Syrena was one of the least progressive parts of the magical world next to Foxglove. Even Viridi Gramine had more progress, and wolves were known for being as misogynistic and homophobic as they come. I hoped Yoongi was staying safe.

And Jimin, and Taehyung, and Callisto, and Mi-Jeong, and Hoseok, and Hyuna; and Yoona, and Enver, and Thelma; and...

I sighed, turning on my side. I needed to stretch my wings. My head was too crowded right now.

As the sky deepened into purples and golds, I got to my feet, drifting away from the fire until the shadows of the forest swallowed me up. I glanced back once, just to be sure—Lily was already asleep, her breathing steady, her shoulders rising and falling in a calm rhythm that was, oddly, comforting. A small smile tugged at my lips—part relief, part guilt. It was better this way, safer for her not to see this part of me.

It wasn’t that I thought she’d run off into the forest screaming, but I knew if she saw what I could do, she’d figure out what I was immediately. I was supposed to be dead, if the whispers from our time in those small human towns throughout Clarcton were anything to go by, and I wasn’t sure what an enemy would be able to get out of her if we were separated. I wasn’t ready to risk that. She didn’t need to know yet.

Maybe later, when things were calmer and we were closer to the mountains, I’d let her know. Out here, I was too afraid of who or what might see us together. Even if I didn’t particularly care for her, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her either. Secrets were safer. I think she’d understand. I was sure she had a few of her own.

With the moon high in the sky, I walked further and further away from camp. My heart felt heavy, and I didn’t really feel like doing much of anything, but I hoped feeling the breeze against my feathers would help soothe my growing headache. Finally, when I looked back and found that I could no longer see Lily, I relaxed and closed my eyes.

The transformation started slowly, like a ripple through my bones, a tingling that spread over my skin, a strange sensation that felt both sharp and ticklish. My bones felt like they were hollowing out, my skin prickling as feathers began to push through, soft and light, spreading across my arms as they stretched out into wings. My senses sharpened—the night seemed to grow brighter, the scent of the forest more vivid, the air more alive around me. The world grew bigger as I felt myself shrinking.

It felt so gentle and soft compared to the torturous process it used to be. It felt freeing.

Then, in an instant, I shifted—wings stretched wide, reaching into the night, ready to lift me. With one strong push, I took flight. The wind rushed past me, cool and crisp, and I kawed loudly into the silent night sky. So far, we hadn’t seen many birds in this area, and I wasn’t in the mood for socializing.

The first few flaps were exhilarating, my wings catching the air as I ascended higher, the forest below shrinking until the trees looked like tiny clusters of dark green. I let out a long whistle of joy, the sound escaping me unbidden, a sound so colorful and filled with so many different calls and notes that I wasn’t sure any passing bird could understand what was happening. The moon hung above me, round and silver, lighting my path, and I felt weightless, the cool night air rushing over my feathers as I twisted and turned. The stars above seemed close enough to touch, like a blanket of glittering diamonds spread across the sky, and I reveled in the vastness of it all.

I swooped low, skimming the treetops, the tips of my wings brushing the highest branches, sending a few leaves fluttering to the ground below. I darted upward again, spiraling in a lazy circle, my wings catching the wind and carrying me higher, spinning until the world blurred beneath me in shades of green and silver. There was a wildness in my heart that matched the thrill of the wind beneath my wings, a giddy kind of joy that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I raced the wind, diving down, then soaring up again. I glided over a small clearing, the grass glowing faintly under the moonlight. The air was cool, carrying with it the scent of pine and damp earth, and I breathed it in deeply, filling my lungs, feeling the cold in my hollow bones.

It didn’t bother me. This body could handle the chill better than my human one. I whistled again and dove down.

I darted between the trees, my wings folding close as I twisted through narrow gaps. There was nothing like this—nothing like the rush of the air against me, the world opening up beneath me, limitless and wide. I spun and twirled, playing with the wind, my heart soaring with every beat of my wings. For this moment, nothing else mattered. I was alive, and the world was mine.

Then, without warning, I glanced back up at the moon and thought of silver hair, and all that joy began to ebb.

My thoughts began to drift, unbidden, to Jimin. I could almost see his face in my mind—his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, that soft smile that always seemed to hold so much warmth. I thought of the way he’d hold me, his arms strong and comforting, his voice low as he whispered dreams of a future that now felt so far away.

The ache was sharp and hollow, and as the wind carried me higher, it seemed to grow, pressing into my chest until it was all I could feel. I missed him—missed him so much it hurt. I missed the quiet moments, the simple comfort of just being by his side. I let out a cry, sharp and raspy, swallowed by the wind as I banked, gliding above the treetops. I wished, with every part of me, that I could turn back to him, fly straight into his arms, tell him I loved him one more time.

But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not while there was still so much to be done. I thought of the others—of my family and friends who I had left behind without much thought on that night. They had trusted me to take this path, to do what needed to be done, and I could only hope they understood—that they didn’t see my absence as abandonment. I was sure Yoongi and Wendy would understand. The elders as well. It was Jin and Taehyung I worried most about. They were both too sensitive and took most things to heart—even when they didn’t need to.

Jin would grow angry and revert back to that childish and angry boy I knew when I was fifteen. Taehyung… it was difficult to say. I knew him well enough, but I didn’t think anyone would allow him to wallow and cry for very long. It was unbecoming for their new Chief, and I had to imagine how frustrated and alone he would feel.

His mate went behind his back. His friend left him without much of a goodbye. The only reason people wanted him to come back was to make Sol happy. There was much on his plate, and I worried no one was there to hold him up. At least, no one he would really want to be there for him right now.

I hoped, at the very least, he and Namjoon were able to make up.

My wings beat steadily, carrying me over the dark expanse of the forest, the grass stretching endlessly below. I flew on, my heart heavy, the weight of longing pressing down on me. And yet, even in the sadness, there was something else—fierce determination. I would find my way back. One day, I would fly not just for the joy of it, but to return home, to the people who meant everything to me.

That one day came closer with each step we took towards those mountains.

With a sigh, I turned, folding my wings and gliding back toward our camp. The ground rose up to meet me, and I landed softly, feeling the transformation reverse itself—feathers vanishing, bones solidifying, skin reforming. I took a deep breath, letting it settle. But as I straightened up, I froze.

Lily was standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at me, her eyes wide. For a second, neither of us moved, the forest around us holding its breath. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and something else I couldn’t name.

“You’re... a Bridd?” she whispered, her voice barely a murmur, filled with a mix of disbelief and wonder.

I swallowed, panic clawing at my throat, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Yes,” I said quietly, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s fine,” she whispered back, her eyes still wide. Her hair was down now, her hood tossed aside, exposing her ears. Looking at them now, it felt silly to keep this part of my life away from her. Even if she was captured—the elves would be more excited about her death than mine. I was a threat because of my magic. Lily was an abomination of nature according to their laws. Guilt ate away at me like a rabid dog. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? This is…”

She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

“It’s... not something I share easily. Or ever. Everyone I’ve ever known was aware. It didn’t feel all that important,” Then, because I knew I was partially lying, I threw in the real reason. “And I was nervous about one of us being captured. Didn’t think it would be good for you to see me.”

There was a silence, thick and heavy. My heart was lodged somewhere in my throat as I waited, bracing for whatever reaction might come. I couldn’t help but notice the way Lily’s black fox ears twitched, peeking out from beneath her hair, her big, fluffy burnt orange tail slowly unfurling behind her as she processed what I had said. Her eyes, wide with a mix of awe and curiosity, never left mine.

Her expression softened, awe giving way to something else—something almost... respectful. She took a step closer, her tail swishing slightly, her gaze unwavering.

“That’s... incredible,” she said, her voice filled with genuine wonder. Her ears perked up, her usual guarded demeanor slipping away, replaced by something far more open and intrigued. She moved a little closer, her curiosity evident.

“How does it work?” she asked, her tone brightening with interest. “Can you just... shift whenever you want?”

I exhaled, letting go of some of the tension that had built up inside me. Her ears twitched as she waited for my answer, her tail swaying in slow, steady arcs. “Yes,” I replied. “It wasn’t always like that, but... yeah, I can shift whenever.”

Lily nodded, her ears tilting slightly as she took in my words. She seemed thoughtful, her eyes still wide with wonder. “But…How? When?” She shook her head, stepping closer to me, her tail wagging. “How?”

“It’s a long story,” I scratched the back of my neck, moving towards the fire. It was cold out here, and I no longer had feathers to insulate my body. “But the shortened version is I died and came back to life.”

“I can’t imagine…,” she murmured, her gaze softening. Her fox tail brushed against her leg, the fur catching the moonlight as she shifted her weight. “You had to be desperate. Are you alright now?”

I looked away, feeling a tightness in my chest as the words slipped out before I could stop them. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “I can admit I don’t know much about being normal, but I’m trying. I apologize for being a bad partner. It’s hard to trust someone who isn’t being honest.”

Lily was quiet for a moment, her ears flicking slightly, her gaze fixed on the ground. Then she looked up, her eyes meeting mine, steady and sincere. “I get it,” she said softly. “I don’t know if I’d have reacted well before. I-” She paused, her voice growing even softer, almost gentle. “Thanks for trusting me now.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, small but genuine. “Thanks for not freaking out,” I said, my voice carrying a note of humor.

She laughed quietly, her fox ears flattening slightly with amusement, her tail giving a small flick. The sound was a soothing balm to my frayed nerves, easing the tension I hadn’t even realized I was still holding. “Freaking out’s usually my first instinct,” she admitted, a hint of laughter in her eyes. “But... I think I’m getting better at this whole ‘not panicking’ thing.”

Her honesty made me laugh too, the sound light and freeing. Just like that, the tension that had hung between us for so long seemed to ease. It wasn’t gone—not completely—but it felt like we’d crossed a line, moved a little closer to something like understanding.

“Still haven’t quite gotten the hang of the bitch part, right?” I joked back.

“No,” she chuckled. “Don’t think I ever will. Unless you fix it first.”

I laughed, stretching my legs, bending down to touch my toes. Shifting always made me so stiff. I looked at the hybrid through the space between my legs.

Lily’s ears perked up again, her blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. She took another step closer, her tail swishing behind her, and I could see the genuine fascination in her gaze. “Do you ever get tired of it?” she asked. “Being able to shift, I mean. Or is it just... always like magic?”

I considered her question for a moment, my body snapping back upright. “It’s both, I think,” I said eventually. “Sometimes it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Other times, I hate being reminded about all of the responsibilities it gives me. Who I have to be because of it. But when I’m up there, when I’m flying...” I trailed off, a small smile touching my lips. “It’s worth it. It always feels like magic then.”

Lily nodded, her gaze softening. “I think I get that,” she said quietly. Her ears twitched, and she gave me a small smile. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly. I had a friend who shifted before, and she could fly. I used to envy her. Always wished she could pick me up and take me with her.”

“Well, I’m a raven,” I said with a wry grin. “So unless you want to shrink down to about a tenth of your size, I’m afraid you’re a bit too heavy for me to carry around.”

She laughed, her ears tilting back slightly as her tail swished. “Yeah, I figured. Besides, I don’t think I’d trust you to fly straight if you had me dangling from your talons.”

I laughed too, the image ridiculous enough to make the tension in my chest ease a little more. “Fair enough. But maybe one of the dragons could give you a ride one day,” I added, my tone playful. “You know, if Khione ever decides she likes us enough not to drop you halfway through the sky.”

Lily snorted, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, Khione?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The ice dragon who'd probably freeze my tail just for looking at her the wrong way? Yeah, I'll pass."

"Come on," I teased, nudging her arm lightly. "She can't be that bad. She's just... selectively friendly."

Lily shook her head, her ears twitching with laughter. "Right. Selectively friendly. I'm sure she'd love to have a hybrid hitching a ride on her back. I'll stick to the ground for now, thanks."

We both laughed, the sound echoing softly in the night air, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. It was rare that we were so open and honest with one another since that first day together. But in that moment, it finally felt like we were in this together as friends. Her black fox ears flicked again, catching the light from the moon above us, and her gaze met mine, her eyes softening with a warmth that made my chest tighten, but in a good way this time.

"You know," she said after a moment, her voice quieter, almost as if she wasn't sure she should say it, "I'm glad you told me. It's like... I feel like I understand you a little better now."

"Yeah?" I asked, my own voice coming out softer. It wasn't easy for either of us to admit these kinds of things.

She nodded, her fox tail swishing slowly behind her, the big fluffy thing moving in gentle arcs. "Yeah. I mean, we're all carrying something, right? Secrets, fears... it's just part of who we are. And I guess it's nice to know I'm not the only one."

I smiled. "You're definitely not the only one," I said. "And I'm glad I told you too. Even if I thought you might freak out."

Lily rolled her eyes, her ears flattening in mock annoyance. "Oh please, I'm not that bad. Just because my first instinct is to act like a complete and utter diva doesn't mean I would have gone all psychobitch. I bite, but not that hard, jeez.”

I laughed, shaking my head. "Right, right. Totally calm and collected, that's you."

"Hey, I've gotten better," she shot back, a grin tugging at her lips. "Besides, you're the one who kept this big secret. Who knows, maybe I'm the one who should be freaking out that my supposed partner is actually a shapeshifting bird woman—who, by the way, is also one of the most sacred beings in the country. If not the world. Just a normal Tuesday."

"Not just any shapeshifting bird woman," I corrected, pointing a finger at her, unable to keep the smile off my face. "A Raven."

"Right, a raven," she teased, her eyes glinting mischievously. "I've seen ravens steal shiny things, you know. Might have to keep an eye on my stuff."

I snorted, shaking my head. "I can promise you, your belt buckles are safe from me."

Lily gave a mock sigh of relief, her tail swishing again. "Good to know. I'd hate to have to fend off a raven attack just to protect my piercings, crow brain."

The banter between us felt natural, easy, and the tension that had been there for so long seemed to fade into the background. There were still things we hadn't worked through, but in that moment, it felt like we were a little bit closer to being real friends.

Later, as we sat by the fire, the flames crackling and casting flickering shadows across the clearing, a more solemn mood seemed to settle between us. The warmth of the fire wrapped around us, and I could feel the chill of the night slowly being pushed back. Lily stared into the flames, her ears twitching slightly as she seemed to be lost in thought. Finally, her voice came, softer than usual, almost hesitant.

"I'm sorry," she said, her gaze fixed on the flames. "For everything I said before. I judged you without really knowing you. And I guess... I was scared, too. I didn't know if I could trust you."

I sighed, feeling affection for her growing in my chest. It wasn't easy for Lily to apologize—I knew that. She was stubborn and proud, and hearing her admit her mistakes made me feel like maybe we really were making progress. "I was being difficult too," I admitted, my eyes following the dance of the fire. "I’m sorry, and... I forgive you."

She glanced at me then, her ears perking up, and a real smile lit up her face, one that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Then I guess I forgive you, too," she said, her voice lighter, more like her usual self.

"Wow, forgiveness all around," I said, unable to resist the urge to tease. "Who knew we could be so mature?"

Lily snorted, her tail flicking behind her. "Don't get used to it. I'll go back to being a bitch tomorrow."

"Good to know," I said with a grin. "Wouldn't want things to get too friendly around here."

She gave me a playful shove, her smile widening. "Shut up. You're lucky I don't bite."

"Oh, I'm terrified," I replied, my voice dripping with mock fear. "Please, spare me, oh mighty fox warrior."

Lily rolled her eyes, but her laughter came easily, and it was a sound that made me feel lighter. The fire crackled between us, filling the silence that followed with warmth and a sense of peace I hadn't felt in a long time. There was a long road ahead, filled with challenges and dangers waiting for us both, but for the first time, I felt like we had a real shot. We could face it together—not as reluctant allies, but as something closer to friends.

The night stretched on, the stars twinkling above us, and the fire slowly burned down to embers. We sat there, the silence comfortable, the teasing smiles lingering on our faces. And as I looked at Lily, her fox ears twitching slightly as she listened to the sounds of the night, her tail curled around her, I felt something inside me settle. There was still so much left to do, so many obstacles to overcome, but at least now, I knew I didn't have to face it all alone.

"You know," I said after a while, my voice softer, almost thoughtful, "if we ever do find Khione and she doesn't try to freeze us, I think you should ask her for that ride. I'd love to see her face when you ask."

Lily snickered, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh yeah? And what makes you think she wouldn't drop me from the sky the first chance she gets?"

"She might," I admitted, unable to hide my grin. "But think of the look on her face. It'd be worth it."

"You're so bad," Lily said, shaking her head, though there was laughter in her voice. "But maybe I'll do it. Just to see if you're right."

"I'll be cheering you on from a safe distance," I replied, and she laughed again, her ears flicking with amusement.

We settled back into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire and the glow of the embers surrounding us. The challenges ahead seemed a little less daunting, the road a little less lonely. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like we really could make it.

After that night, something between Lily and me softened. It wasn't sudden—no big moment, no dramatic shift. But it was there, a quiet sort of peace that settled over us. An unspoken truce.

We still argued, of course—there was no miracle fix for our tempers. But the fights felt different. Less about tearing each other down, and far fewer insults being hurled on either side. We were just stubborn and headstrong about our beliefs, and had a hard time looking past that. We were both making efforts, however, to see the value in our differences, learning how to exist side by side, and shutting up when we didn’t have anything nice to say. That was probably the best improvement we made thus far.

One day, we were navigating a particularly tough stretch of the trail. It was treacherous, the rocks slick with dew, the path steep and full of traps. Lily was ahead of me, her jaw tight with focus, when her foot slipped, her boot skidding over loose stones. Instinctively, I reached out to steady her, but she jerked her arm away, a fierce look in her eyes.

"I can do it myself," she snapped, frustration evident in her voice.

I let my hand fall, but I didn't look away. I had to try very hard not to yell back, but I knew underneath her attitude and anger was something gentle and sweet. I had to get better at being understanding. I took a short, quick gasp of air and hoped I softened my voice enough to not give away how irritated I felt inside my chest.

"Lily, you don't have to do everything alone. That’s why we’re doing this thing together—convenience."

She froze, her gaze locked with mine, and for a moment, I thought she'd snap again. My stomach coiled with anticipation. A part of me wanted her to. I had more than enough steam to blow off from the stress of everything. But then she sighed, the tension in her face melting as she reached out, slipping her hand into mine. I helped her up, her fingers holding tightly onto mine.

When we reached the top, I smirked a little, trying to lighten the mood. "See? Teamwork," I said, teasing but gentle.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a real smile there. "Maybe you're not entirely useless," she replied, her tone softened, almost playful.

That was just one thing that told me we were on the same side now. When the path turned steep or the rocks were too slick, one of us would offer a hand without a word. Lily didn’t even blink an eye at the contact anymore. At night by the fire, the silence wasn't stifling anymore; it was comfortable. We had even started sharing stories, things I hadn't expected to tell her. Things I would have never thought she’d tell me. It was a strange twist of fate—the only person I had ever admitted to not liking had become my favorite person I had ever (save Jimin and Yoongi) talked to within a week’s time.

Lily’s stories were so fascinating and out of the realm of anything I had ever heard before. Most of my friends and family had never known a life outside of Bangtan, Moland, or the southernmost parts of Clarcton. Never had much interaction with humans, and if they did, they rarely had good things to say. Lily, however, had seen almost every nook and cranny of Lustra outside of Alcona Island. Dragons didn’t like non-dragons, so it wasn’t really a possibility for her to get there unless she wanted to be burnt to a crisp.

From the ports of Whopping, to the monasteries in Idris, outfoxing goblins in Bangtan, fighting with Bunyips in Moland, and all the way to the smallest farming towns from Leeside and the capital of Northorn—Lily’s feet had touched the soil there. She earned her gold teeth when she was a teenager and still living with Duke. She’d left that life behind after meeting Dina, but had a few moments since her death. Money was valuable outside of the forests, and barding only stretched the coins so far. Her normal way of money-making lately had been through bounty hunting, but with the elves back, that well had run dry. No one had any money and were too afraid of risking being seen with someone who so obviously stood out from the humans. The tattoos and piercings were a dead giveaway that she was from the east and would draw suspicion from the elves.

Lily was barely surviving when we met. She had just completed a hit on a man who had stolen away a young girl from her father’s home. She was originally meant to be sold off for money and a goat, but the man hadn’t made good on his promise. The wedding never happened, but the girl had gone missing just two days later. When I asked her why she kept calling the bride a ‘girl,’ Lily turned to me and said.

“The peasants in Northorn sell their children so they can get by. The girl was 14 and the man who wanted her was rich enough to give her a large home and a small farm with a goat.”

“But why would anyone do that?” I nearly shouted, the thought of anyone so young being married off foreign. “It would hurt her. She’s so vulnerable to death giving birth to a child. What were they thinking?”

Lily’s look had turned to pity. That moment reminded me that she was right—I was naive and clueless. Nothing about this world made sense, and no one around me was informed enough to know anything different. If they were, they never told us.

“The only people who can afford to eat in Northorn are the nobles and monarchs,” her tone had taken on a softer tone, like she was explaining this to a small child. “Been like that ever since King Edward came into power. He and his queen enjoy the finer things in life, spoiled their children rotten, and stopped taxing their court money. Those who were already struggling turned to less… savory means of staying alive. I know a few boys who were sold to the church and… castrated so they can sing higher. They don’t allow girls into the theater there.”

I never asked about the children in Northorn again.

We weren't perfect. We still stumbled, still clashed. But there was a difference now—we realized we liked each other when we were fighting all of the damn time. And as we pushed onward, the peaks of Ozryn drawing closer each day, I felt the hopelessness I carried with me when I was flying to Clarcton fading away. We had come so far, and Lily seemed confident about our odds. I allowed myself to believe her.

I can’t remember what Yoongi said—if he even said anything—but I remember his voice. Or at least, something pretending to be his voice. I couldn’t remember anymore. It was wrong. Stretched, warped, shredded into something that didn’t fit. It filled the air, filled me, with a kind of terror I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him.

I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. The ground seemed to grab at me, holding me back, as if it knew I wasn’t supposed to get there. And he was there, but not there. His face was empty, his eyes hollow—erased. His body jerked unnaturally, like a puppet on strings, and when I reached for him, it was like trying to grab smoke. He slipped right through my fingers, no matter how hard I tried to hold on.

There was screaming—his, mine, I don’t know—but the sound ripped through me, splintered into pieces that never made sense. I think he shouted my name, begged me for something, but all I can remember is the way it sounded: broken. His voice cracked and splintered, sharp and desperate, and I wanted to say something back. I wanted to tell him I was there, that it was okay, but my voice was gone, frozen inside me, useless.

His hands. God, his hands weren’t his anymore. They were claws, tearing at his face, his skin, his eyes. "I can’t see!" he screamed, but it wasn’t even a scream. It was… other. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. My hands wouldn’t move. My legs wouldn’t move. I was stuck there, paralyzed, watching him disappear into a million little, bloody pieces.

Everything spun after that. The world tilted, and I couldn’t keep up. I kept trying to reach him, to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing. Just the thick, black smoke swallowing him whole. I don’t know if I screamed, if I begged him to stay, but I felt like I did. The ache in my chest, the burn in my throat—it had to mean something came out of me, right? But I can’t remember.

Then it all shifted, blurred into something worse. Smoke burned my lungs, stung my eyes. My feet stumbled over something I couldn’t see, and my name was being called—soft, urgent, but so far away. And that’s when I saw her.

Cordelia.

Her face is the only thing I can see clearly now. Gray and lifeless, her eyes staring at nothing. Dead. She was pinned under something heavy, and I—I tried to pull her free. My hands shook, clawed at the rubble, but it was useless. My strength was gone, and the weight of her stillness crushed me. I screamed her name, but it caught in my throat, tangled with the smoke and the tears. I knew she was gone even before I stopped trying. She was cold, heavy, already slipping away.

Hands grabbed me—pulled me back—but I fought them. Kicked, thrashed, anything to stay with her. I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t. But they were stronger, and my body was too weak. And then I was holding her, somehow. I don’t remember how, but she was in my arms, and she wasn’t there. She was just… gone.

I don’t know what happened next. The shadows swallowed everything, and I was falling, slipping, screaming inside myself because I couldn’t do anything else. And then there were arms around me, warm and steady, holding me together when I was sure I’d shatter. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care. I just clung to them, because they were the only thing keeping me from falling completely into the dark.

"Y/N.”

My head snapped up. Without a word, Lily moved closer, her shoulder brushing against mine.

I am Y/N. The elves are gone. Foxglove is safe. Everyone is safe.

Not Cordelia. She was dead. My best friend’s mother was dead and I wasn’t there for her. I left. I let her die. I killed Cordelia. If I had been there, I could have stopped it. If I had spoken sooner. I am a guardian. I failed. I deserve to—

"Did you know that Bangtan used to be called something else?"

I blinked, snapped from my thoughts.

"No," I replied, robotically, eyes still staring at the dancing yellow and orange flames.

It should have been me.

It should have been me.

It should have been me.

It should have been me.

It should have been me.

It should hav—

"Before humans were here and the land was filled with elementals, they all lived in harmony within their homeland. They didn’t believe in borders the way that humans do. They just used words to describe places."

I made a non-committal sound. I couldn’t manage much more. Lily continued as if I hadn’t said anything at all.

"Virdi Gramine was Lysander, and many of the water elementals lived there. Ozryn had always been home to Khione. Conláed named it. He was the only thing Khione ever respected more than Naida. He died during the war.

"Whopping is named after the human who conquered the east. Liam Whopping," Lily scoffed, her disdain for the man coloring every syllable of his name as she spoke it. "Conláed named it after his wife, Agni. She was a water nymph who lived in the northeast before the fae were sent to Hollow Below. She died of an illness, and he never left her grave. At least, not until the war. The elves enslaved him and the rest of the dragons, but Conláed was too powerful to be kept alive. They beheaded him and paraded it through the streets like some kind of trophy for the others to see. Disgusting."

Lily grew quiet. I could feel the anger rising in her, simmering just beneath the surface. She must've known that getting heated wouldn’t help when I was already feeling this way. She wasn’t exactly wrong either, so I kept my mouth shut. We sat like that for a long time—just the two of us, the fire crackling, the cool night air wrapping around us like a heavy blanket.

“Agni and Lysander,” I muttered, my voice weak, barely more than a whisper. “Is that it?”

“No,” she whispered back. “Ancola was Ryuu. That’s where the dragons originally came from. Conláed was the first and the most curious, so that’s why he ended up in so many stories. Northorn was the quietus kingdom of Betsalel. Briar Glen Beach was called something else before, but I don’t remember what. It’s a memorial site for King Omar Briar Glen. King Edward's great-great-uncle. Keld lives there.”

“Keld? Like Keld’s Landing?”

“Same guy—well, dragon. The humans enslaved the dragons to ride them, and Keld was given to King Omar. They grew close, and when Omar learned that the dragons could turn into people… he couldn’t let the torture go on. He helped start the dragon revolution with Keld and a few others. That’s the only reason Lustra won—when the dragons got out. Omar died. Keld didn’t want to leave him, so he’s estranged from the other dragons. No one goes there anymore. It’s a death sentence.”

“What about Bangtan?”

“Moland and Bangtan were fae territory, so less is known about them since the Hallow Rift, but I believe Witrial is what Hydra called it.”

“Who’s Hydra?” I asked, laying down and curling into a ball. Sitting up was taking too much effort. Lily watched me, her eyes squinted, reading my mood. She knew I was upset but chose not to call attention to it. I appreciated the effort.

“She’s Lindon’s guard. She’s the only person who can let people in and out. I’ve known her for a few years now.”

“Does she do ice magic?” I asked.

“No. Only the royal guard knows how to do that. She’s a water wielder.”

“Will she like me?”

“You’re impossible to dislike.”

I thought of Ji-Hyun and frowned. “That’s not true.”

“Well, whoever doesn’t has a few screws loose.”

Finally, I smiled.

“Thanks, Lily.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

As the stars spun slowly overhead and the fire crackled down to embers, I felt a strange, tentative peace creep in. The visions were getting worse, and I knew Lily was losing sleep because of my nightmares, but we’d never really talked about them before. I could feel myself slipping away each time, and every time I’d close my eyes, I’d wait for everything to stop. When my soul felt like it was five feet away from my body, watching everything from up above—that was the only time the thoughts stopped anymore.

Flying didn’t help.

Ignoring it didn’t help.

Food didn’t help.

Jokes didn’t help.

Nothing did.

It should have been me.

I hoped the nightmares would stay away tonight. I knew they wouldn’t.

We settled down in a small clearing that night, a patch of ground just large enough for the two of us and the small fire Lily had built. The trees rose up around us like silent witnesses, their branches catching the moonlight and splaying shadows over the mossy floor. It smelled like damp earth and pine sap, and every now and then you could hear a distant owl calling out, or something small scurrying through the brush. For a moment, I tried to focus on those sounds instead of the noise in my head. I tried to notice how the flames sent tiny sparks upward, how they danced into the darkness and disappeared. I thought if I could just pay attention to these details, maybe I wouldn’t get pulled back under—pulled back to that place where I heard the screams and felt the ground crumble under my feet.

Lily was by my side, close enough that the tips of our boots almost touched. She’d been watching me quietly for a while, giving me the kind of space you give a wild animal when you’re not sure if it’s going to bolt or lash out. After what felt like forever, she finally spoke.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, her voice soft but steady. She curled a bit closer, arms around her knees, as if to show me she was no threat. “I always wonder where you go when you get so quiet.”

My heart twisted painfully. I knew she deserved more than a brush-off. This was Lily, after all—the person who’d pulled me out of the rubble more than once, who’d kept watch on nights I couldn’t sleep, who’d patched me up and told me that I’d make it through somehow. But I didn’t know how to put words to the ugly tangle in my head. The grief and guilt felt impossible to explain, like every time I tried, I’d end up showing her something so awful that she’d never see me the same way again.

“Just… how far we’ve come,” I said. The lie tasted bitter. I knew Lily could hear it in my voice, see it in how I stared into the fire instead of at her. I tried to swallow, to force the lump in my throat back down where it belonged. The night pressed in around us, too quiet, like it was holding its breath.

Lily shifted closer, her eyes never leaving my face. “You’re lying,” she said gently. There was no anger or disappointment, just this calm certainty. “Didn’t we agree not to lie to each other anymore?”

I closed my eyes for a second, remembering when we’d made that promise. We’d been tired and sore, leaning against a fallen log under a red sunset, swearing that if we trusted no one else in this world, we’d trust each other. If I broke that promise now, after all we’d been through, what kind of person did that make me? But telling her the truth felt like cutting open a wound that hadn’t healed right in the first place.

My voice came out small and shaky. “I have a past… things I’m not proud of.” I could feel the weight of the words pressing on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

She didn’t flinch or roll her eyes or tell me to stop being dramatic. She just looked at me, those brown eyes like steady lanterns in the dark. “You don’t have to hide,” she said, her voice sure and quiet. “I’ve done terrible things, remember? I told you all about them. I’m not going to judge you.”

I pressed my hand against my thigh, grounding myself. She was making it sound simple, when I knew it wasn’t. “I—” My throat closed up again. I had to force the words out, bit by bit. “I made mistakes that got people killed. People who trusted me. People who…” I swallowed hard. “People who should still be here right now.”

The fire crackled in front of us, sparks whirling upward, and for a second I could almost see their faces in those sparks: Cordelia’s tired smile, Jimin’s kind eyes. I remembered the day I promised Thelma that I wouldn’t let anything happen, how certain I’d been. And then I remembered how it all fell apart.

Lily’s voice was steady, warm with understanding. “Keep going,” she said, touching my hand lightly. She didn’t push hard; she just let me know she was there.

I stared at my boots, because if I looked at her face I’d cry. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. I really did,” I said. “I thought if I made this one decision, if I stood my ground at this one crucial moment, I could save everyone. I pictured this perfect outcome, where I’d come out a hero, where everyone survived, and we’d laugh about how tense it got. But that’s not what happened. Instead, I ended up watching everything crumble. They… they died, Lily. A lot of them.”

My voice cracked on the word “died.” The silence after that felt heavy, like a rock pressing against my chest. I rubbed the heel of my hand against my eye, trying to keep the tears in. It felt selfish to cry about it now, when they were the ones who’d lost their lives. What right did I have to weep when I was the one still breathing?

Lily reached out again, this time wrapping her fingers around mine, and I let her. Her hand was warm and a little rough, the hand of someone who’d wielded knives and swords, who’d known violence intimately. There was comfort in that, oddly. She wasn’t some gentle innocent who couldn’t understand darkness. She’d lived through her own nights of regret.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “That must weigh so heavily on you. I know what it’s like to carry that blame around. It changes the way you see yourself.”

I nodded, feeling something tighten in my chest. “Jimin and I fought a few days after everything settled,” I said quietly. “He didn’t want me to come here. He said I had lied to him and everyone else and was trying to play hero again.  He never said he hated me, but I could see something different in his eyes. Like he was just… empty when he looked at me. Or disappointed. I can’t forgive myself, and I’m pretty sure he can’t either.”

The memory of Jimin’s face stung. The way his shoulders slumped, the way he turned away from me. There had been this terrible silence, broken only by the wind, as if he was afraid that if he said a single word, he would break completely. And then I left. He never followed. I’d never known if he placed the blame on me or if I simply placed it on myself. But either way, I’d never shaken off the feeling that I deserved his anger.

Lily squeezed my hand, not letting go. “Forgiveness can take a long time,” she said. “Sometimes it never comes. But you’re doing what you can now, aren’t you? You didn’t run away. Even after all of that you’re here trying to save that village. That means something.”

I swallowed hard. She was trying to give me something to hold onto—some piece of grace I couldn’t give myself. “They’re still gone,” I managed, voice barely more than a whisper. “Sometimes I think I’d give anything to go back and change what I did. But I can’t. And at night… at night I can’t sleep. I see it all happening again. I see Cordelia’s eyes, empty as the life drained out of her. I see the others, crushed under debris or struck down by those monsters, and I keep thinking, ‘If only I had listened, if only I’d moved sooner, if only I’d been stronger.’ I keep thinking it should have been me down there, not them.”

I felt my shoulders shake. Saying it out loud made it ache more, but also felt like I was lancing a wound, letting the poison out. Lily moved closer, until our knees touched. There was no pity in her eyes, just a steady sympathy that made me feel anchored. “You tried,” she said gently. “You thought you were doing what was right. No one can ask for more than that. The world threw something terrible at you. The blame doesn’t all land on your shoulders.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t find the words. All these months, I had run the scenario in my mind. If I’d just drawn a different line in the dirt, if I’d told them I knew something was coming, if I’d allowed the others to carry the burden with me for a little while, maybe the outcome would have changed. Maybe not. But I would never know, and that not knowing haunted me.

“It doesn’t make it hurt less,” I said finally, voice thick. “But it… I don’t know. It helps to say it out loud, I guess. To know I’m not talking to a wall. To know someone else can see me as more than just… a killer.”

At that, Lily’s mouth tightened, and her eyes glinted in the firelight. “You’re not a killer,” she said firmly. “We’ve both done things that will haunt us. But here you are, heartbroken and torn up, wishing you could have saved them. Doesn’t that tell you something about who you really are?”

I forced myself to meet her eyes—really meet them, bracing for a flicker of disgust or something worse. But there was none of that. Just Lily, looking worn and earnest and so completely herself, as if she’d never considered seeing me as anything but a human being who tried her best. She let her hands rest on my shoulders, her grip gentle but steady, like she needed me to understand this. All of it.

“You didn’t kill anyone,” she said softly, and I could feel her words more than hear them—warm little sparks in the dark. “Aladia and her troops did that. Gawen set the men on Foxglove. And one day, when it happens again, it’ll be General Khiloas carrying out her orders, and Aladia controlling her. This was always going to be awful, no matter what you did. Once those women reach the shorelines, there’ll be blood. Thousands, maybe. Even Etelin’s most loyal don’t really get what’s coming.”

The wind chose that moment to sigh through the branches, sending a scattering of sparks into the night. I watched one drift upward, glowing for just a second longer than seemed possible, before winking out. Somehow, I still felt like the same knot of nerves and regrets I’d always been—but I could also feel something else blooming underneath. Gratitude that Lily hadn’t looked away. Relief that maybe I didn’t have to wear every bad choice around my neck like a chain.

I leaned a fraction closer to her, letting the warmth of her palm ground me. “Thank you,” I whispered. It was all I could manage, but it felt real and big enough, right now.

Lily just nodded, letting the silence spread out between us. Not the tense, suffocating quiet I was used to, but something gentler. Something that said we’d both been hurt, both done things we’d carry around forever—yet here we were, still breathing, still trying. The fire’s glow brushed my face, and Lily’s presence felt like a reminder that while I might still be lost in my own guilt, I didn’t have to be alone in it.

That was enough, at least for tonight.

In the days that followed, I tried to convince myself that I could breathe again. The night Lily and I had sat by the fire, my voice raw from finally letting all my secrets out—well, I’d been certain I’d never say those things to anyone, ever. But I did. I told Lily everything, and she didn’t spit at my feet or turn away. She stayed. She told me it wasn’t all on me, that I wasn’t carrying the world’s sins alone. For the first time in forever, I didn’t feel like I was drowning in guilt.

But “lighter” was such a small thing. It was like going from a hundred-pound weight in my chest to ninety-nine. The burden was still there. Every quiet moment, every sudden rustle of wind, let the memories slip back in, dragging their claws along my spine. I’d breathe in, and the ghosts of those who died would breathe out, lingering right behind my shoulder. I could almost feel their eyes on me.

I kept hearing their voices in my head—tired, helpless whispers from the past. Over and over: Why didn’t you save us? You could’ve done something different. And I’d agree, my stomach twisting into knots, my brain screaming that I should have died instead. At night, I’d press my face into the crook of my arm and try not to shake too loudly, afraid Lily would hear and feel obligated to fix me when I knew no one could.

We went deeper into the forest anyway, step by cautious step. The trees grew taller and closer together until it felt like they were eavesdropping on us, branches stooping down to listen to my pounding heart. Everything was damp and quiet, the sort of silence that makes you feel like you’re trespassing, like nature will punish you for being there. I wanted to shrink into myself, to go unnoticed—my existence felt like an offense.

I kept my head down, watching the patches of sunlight drip through the leaves. My heart was still heavy, even if Lily’s words had loosened a few knots. I’d learned something that night: there was no off-switch for this kind of guilt. All I could do was try not to let it swallow me whole. But that was already harder than I’d imagined. My mind would catch on a memory—Cordelia’s eyes, the way they’d gone empty when I failed her—and I’d start unraveling again, feeling the panic bubble under my ribs. Was I shaking right now? Was Lily seeing it?

The forest got quieter the further we went. That was the first sign. The birds stopped fussing. The breeze barely breathed. I felt it before I saw it—some terrible tension like a string pulled too tight. Lily slowed, her hand drifting to her dagger, and I stiffened, every muscle screaming that something was wrong. My stomach flipped. Whoever was out there, they were watching us, and I was already picturing them dead at my feet, because that’s what always happened, right? Everyone who got close to me ended up twisted and broken. It was a sickening thought, hot tears threatening to blur the trees around me, but I swallowed them down, forcing myself to stay steady. Lily needed me steady.

When the five figures stepped out of the shadows, I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood. They spread out, circling us, their eyes cold and hungry. One man stepped forward, scar slashed across his cheek, holding a blade that looked old and mean. He sneered at us like we were nothing more than a sack of potatoes he planned to haul away.

“Two little travelers,” he said. His voice was thick with mockery. “Far from home, I’d wager.” My heart was thumping so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. I remembered the last time I’d faced men like this and how people who mattered had ended up dead. My fault, my fault, my fault. My knees threatened to buckle. I had to be strong, or Lily would pay the price. But what if I messed up again? What if I hesitated or said the wrong thing and the forest ended up soaked in blood?

I risked a glance at Lily. She was tense but focused, her shoulders back, her jaw set. She looked strong. I wanted to be that strong. But the roar of memory was deafening inside me—voices telling me I’d fail again. I felt sweat trickle down the back of my neck. Another death, another regret. Could I survive adding more ghosts to the legion already haunting me?

“Hand over your packs,” the leader said. “Or you can join the wolves’ dinner menu, your choice.”

Behind me, Lily’s breath caught, and I wondered: Should I just give them everything? Would that save Lily this time? I was already imagining how wrong it could go. I was remembering someone else’s blood on my hands, and my chest tightened so hard it hurt. I was seeing Cordelia again, the way her head lolled, how I’d knelt beside her and begged her not to die—but she did anyway, leaving me behind like an unwanted afterthought.

“Please,” I managed, my voice cracking. My throat felt like I’d swallowed briars. “We don’t want trouble.” I hated how pathetic I sounded, how easily I showed my fear. But maybe showing it would help? Maybe they’d see how pathetic I was and decide I wasn’t worth killing. Or maybe it would just make them laugh. My nails dug into my palms, and I pressed my lips together to keep from crying. Don’t cry. Not now. Not when Lily needs you.

They closed in, slow and deliberate. I could smell their sweat and old leather. The leader flicked his blade, and the scrape of metal turned my bones to ice. In that moment, I was sure I’d fail again. That people would die on my watch—maybe Lily, maybe me—and it would all be my fault. The realization made me dizzy. The forest spun. I couldn’t seem to catch a full breath.

Lily looked at me, and in her eyes, I saw that she still believed in me. She must’ve seen something in my face, in the way I trembled, because she shifted closer, her elbow just brushing mine. It was a tiny point of contact, but it grounded me, reminded me that not everyone was gone. Not yet.

But I could feel my grip on reality loosening, like I was holding onto the edge of a cliff with just my fingertips. My whole body wanted to fold in on itself and disappear. The leader barked something I didn’t quite catch, and the men laughed—harsh and hollow. Lily’s knuckles went white around her dagger’s hilt, and I tried to do the same with my own weapon, but my hand was shaking too much. I could almost hear Lily’s voice in my head, telling me I could do this, that I wasn’t alone, that I’d done what I could before. But I couldn’t tell which of us was lying.

The world shrank to this circle of strangers, this moment. No one coming to save us, no mercy in their eyes. I realized, with a sick kind of certainty, that this forest was about to rewrite everything I’d tried to believe since Lily and I left that last clearing. I’d thought I could carry on, thought maybe I was worth something after all. But right now, I couldn’t see how any of this ended without more blood on my hands.

“Listen,” I said, voice trembling, “can we—can we just talk about this?” My own words sounded thin and desperate. The leader smirked, as if this was exactly what he’d wanted. More prey cowering and begging. Maybe he collected pleas the way other people collected coins.

Lily tensed, and I knew it wouldn’t be words that got us out of this. It’d be action, and I’d have to take it. If I failed… if I messed up again… the thought made me nauseous.

In that breath of silence, I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in my ears. I tried to remember the warmth of Lily’s hand on mine the other night, tried to believe it still mattered. Maybe I could fight for that feeling. Maybe I could get us both out of here alive, and if I did, maybe that would mean I wasn’t a monster. Maybe.

It was all I had. And it would have to be enough.

“Now!” the leader barked, his voice slicing through the dark like a razor, and I moved.

At first, it wasn’t even me moving—it was something else, something buried deep inside my chest, something coiled and waiting. My heart slammed against my ribs, pounding so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else. Heat flared beneath my skin, and I felt sparks hiss at the ends of my fingertips, bright and wild, like they’d been waiting for this moment of pure panic.

I blinked, and suddenly they were everywhere—these men blocking our path, their eyes hungry and hollow. I knew they weren’t elves, not really, but my mind wouldn’t listen to reason. I saw pointed ears where there were none. I saw cruel, pale faces with that smug sneer I could never forget. Elves had taken everything from me—my home, my friend, my life. They’d stolen my future and left me holding the wreckage. And now, facing these strangers in the dark, my mind insisted they were the same. The same as the ones who made me watch Cordelia die. The same as the ones I failed to save anyone from.

It should’ve been me who died. It should’ve been me pinned underneath that debris, crushed and silent, not Cordelia. The weight of that thought pressed against my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I was supposed to protect everyone—and I didn’t. I couldn’t. I’d watched them fall, and I’d watched the light go out of Cordelia’s eyes, and now that memory clawed at me, shoving itself right into the present. Every scream I’d heard that night echoed in my skull. Every time I blinked, I saw her face.

I swore I’d never hesitate again. I swore I’d never let anyone hurt me or the people I cared about without burning the whole damn world down first.

So I let the fire loose.

It roared out of me, lighting up the forest, painting our attackers in harsh, flickering gold. For a second, I thought I saw Cordelia’s face reflected in the flames, and my throat tightened. Guilt and fury tangled in my chest, and I threw my hands forward, sending a bloom of fire rushing straight into the leader’s path. He screamed—a raw, ragged sound that I felt in my teeth. The smell was awful, searing my nose and making my stomach lurch, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know how to stop anymore. This violence felt like the only way to keep my head above water, the only way to make sure I never failed again. They would never take anyone from me again. Never.

I barely registered the blow that slammed into my side, only that suddenly the ground tilted and my vision blurred. My ribs ached, and I sucked in a jagged breath, coughing on smoke and sparks. Through the haze, I saw Lily—her dagger flashing, her hair whipping around her face as she fought. She looked like some kind of fierce angel, her eyes narrowed in determination. She was fighting for me, for us, even when I was half out of my mind.

I tried to focus on her, tried to ground myself in the curve of her shoulder, the set of her jaw—but then another attacker loomed over me, swinging a fist that landed hard against my cheek. Pain burst behind my eyes, bright spots dancing in my vision. My mind started to drift, sliding into that place where the past and present tangled up. Was this the night Cordelia died? Was I back there, helpless and screaming and begging the elves to show mercy? I’d never found a way to rewrite that story. It always ended with everyone dead but me. I always ended up alone.

My hands shook as I tried to gather the sparks again. I tasted blood in my mouth. It was metallic and hot, and it fueled the fire inside me. Another man charged, and I lashed out with flame, watching him vanish into a screaming silhouette of light and heat. This time, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t allow myself to feel sorry. They were all elves to me now—all monsters who wanted me broken, wanted Lily dead, wanted to rip apart everything I still cared about. If I stopped, if I softened, if I hesitated, I’d fail Lily the way I failed Cordelia. I’d lose someone else. And I couldn’t survive that. Not again.

I could feel myself unraveling. Every scream sounded like Cordelia’s. Every face twisted in pain reminded me of my own failure. I wanted them gone. I wanted them all gone. Better them than me. Better them than Lily. Better them than anyone I might still be able to save.

The flames danced higher, brighter, and I let them feed on my fear and rage until the men were just ashes on the forest floor. The fight ended as abruptly as it began, leaving the night stained with smoke and something darker—something I couldn’t quite name but felt staining my lungs.

My knees buckled, and I sank down, gripping the dirt with trembling fingers. My side throbbed, my chest heaved, and the smell of burnt flesh clung to my clothes. I’d done it again. I’d survived. I’d kept Lily safe. But at what cost? Was I any better than them? What was the difference between my violence and theirs?

My thoughts were spiraling, and I couldn’t catch my breath. The trees swayed overhead, the stars winking in and out, and I felt like the world was tilting on its axis, about to throw me off. I pressed a hand to my side, feeling something wet and warm. Blood. My blood. Pain shimmered behind my eyes, and I tried to focus on that sensation—at least it was real. At least it meant I was alive.

“Hey,” Lily’s voice reached me through the smoke and fear. She knelt beside me, her expression unexpectedly soft. She pressed her hands against my wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. I hissed, pain slicing through me, but I was grateful for it in a weird way. Pain was honest. Pain didn’t lie, didn’t trick me into thinking I could’ve saved Cordelia if I’d just tried harder.

Lily’s eyes met mine. Gone was the warrior who’d been dancing through blades and fire. Now she looked worried, human, her brows pinched together. She said something like, “Stay with me,” and I tried to latch onto her words, to let them anchor me here and now, and not in that horrible memory I kept reliving.

But my head felt heavy and full of static. My vision blurred at the edges, and I could hear my heartbeat echoing in my ears. You failed them, it whispered. You always fail. Cordelia’s eyes were everywhere, accusing me, asking why I survived when she did not.

“I’m sorry,” Lily said, and her voice cracked just a little. I wondered what she was sorry for. Maybe she could see that I was disappearing inside myself, slipping into the old fear and shame. Maybe she knew I was too far gone to claw my way back. She pressed harder on the wound, her touch firm but careful, and I tried to focus on that, on her voice and her hands and the fact that she was still here, that we were still here.

I closed my eyes. The world faded to the sound of Lily’s breathing and the throb of pain in my side. I was drifting, lost between past and present, guilt and survival. My mind screamed that I should’ve died back then, that I should’ve traded my life for Cordelia’s. My heart thudded, reminding me I was still alive anyway, still sucking in smoke-filled air.

I thought I felt Lily’s hand in my hair, gentle and strange. For a moment, it felt safe, like a lullaby humming at the edge of a nightmare. I tried to hold onto that feeling, tried to believe that maybe not everyone I touched was doomed. Maybe Lily would be okay. Maybe I hadn’t destroyed everything yet.

I tried to speak, but I couldn’t form words. My body was too tired, my mind too battered. I let the darkness take over, sinking into it with the taste of blood and ash on my tongue, Lily’s voice echoing in my memory. And as I drifted, I could still see Cordelia’s face, just beyond the flames, whispering something I couldn’t make out. Something that might’ve been forgiveness—or maybe just the wind in the trees.

When I opened my eyes, the night had settled into something deeper and quieter. The sky was a dark, velvety blue—so rich it almost looked soft—dotted with stars that felt hand-stitched into the fabric of the universe. The campfire flickered at my side, its glow tugging at the edges of the shadows, and I blinked, trying to coax my eyes to focus in the dim light.

Lily was pacing near the fire, arms folded across her chest, her boots scuffing at the ground. She tossed another log on, muttering under her breath, “Can’t believe I’m stuck doing this again.” She sounded annoyed, but it was a different brand of annoyance than before—less feral, more… familiar. Almost like an inside joke, if we’d ever bothered to share one.

I managed a dry cough that was supposed to be a laugh. “You’re better at it than me,” I croaked. My throat felt like it had been sanded down, but I was smiling. Actually smiling.

She turned to face me, one eyebrow arched, her mouth curving into something that didn’t quite reach the level of a grin but was way friendlier than a scowl. “Don’t get too pleased with yourself just because you survived a stabbing,” she said. There was a teasing lilt in her voice, like maybe she wanted to be mad but couldn’t quite commit to the part. “Think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

“Hilarious is my middle name,” I said, wincing as I tried an actual laugh. It hurt—everything hurt—but it was still better than silence. Funny how pain could feel like progress after the last few days. At least now I was here, alive, making dumb jokes instead of drowning in old ghosts.

Lily moved closer, settling down next to me. She kept one eye on the tree line, but the other eye—a warm brown, crinkled a bit at the corner—lingered on me. “You’re tougher than you look,” she said, nudging my arm lightly, as if that could be considered a kind of compliment.

I looked at the fire, felt its warmth creep up my cheeks. “Maybe I had a decent teacher,” I said, and I hoped she heard the gratitude in my voice, even if I didn’t say thank you outright. Somehow, “thanks for saving my life and also maybe my sanity a little bit” felt too big to say out loud right now.

A hush settled between us, not the sharp kind of silence we used to wade through, thick with all the words we weren’t saying. This was different—easier, like we’d earned it. We just listened to the night: the pop of the fire, the gentle sway of branches, distant whispers of something wild and green.

“You know,” Lily said at last, eyes still on the flames, “you did well today. Didn’t back down. Even when it got ugly.”

I swallowed, remembering sparks, screams, and the way my chest tightened at the memory of Cordelia and all the what-ifs. My heart felt heavy, but I tried to breathe past it. “I had to,” I said softly, meaning a thousand things. I had to save Lily. I had to prove I could still stand my ground. I had to not crumble into pieces again.

She nodded like she understood—maybe not everything, but enough. “We do what we must,” she said, and her voice sounded gentler than I’d ever heard it. It made me brave enough to glance at her, to meet her gaze. For a split second, something passed between us: understanding, respect, the kind of quiet warmth that comes from surviving something horrible together.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice low and genuinely concerned. It caught me off guard—the directness, the compassion. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing on my bandaged side. “How’s the wound?”

I tried to shift, but pain flared. My body complained about every single movement. “It hurts,” I admitted, feeling strangely proud of myself for the honesty. “But I’ll live. Today was… a mess.”

That made her snort softly. “Understatement of the year,” she said, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “We made it, though.”

When she looked at me like that, all the lines of her face softened, and I realized how relieved she must have been that I was awake, talking, breathing. She reached for the canteen and held it out, her touch careful as she checked the cloth bound around my torso. Her fussing felt different now—like it was allowed, like maybe we were on the same side of something intangible.

“You’re the bird everyone’s been talking about,” she said quietly, her voice dipping lower than the rustle of the leaves. “The one who… who died without an heir, right? The one the elves celebrated killing?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to add anything else. It was still strange hearing it put so plainly, my whole story condensed to a few ugly facts.

Lily studied me, her expression complicated. Then she offered a small, crooked smile. “Well,” she said, “dead or alive, you’re stuck with me.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “I guess I can live with that,” I said, and for the first time, the words didn’t feel like another wall going up. They felt like a small door opening, letting in a bit of light.

She went quiet, staring off into the trees. The fire sent shadows dancing over her face, making her look both younger and older at the same time. I couldn’t figure her out, but maybe I didn’t have to, not tonight. Tonight, it was enough that she was here, that we were both breathing and bruised and not running away.

I eased back, my body protesting, and let the hush surround us again. The stars overhead were brighter than I remembered, scattered like crumbs of light. The forest hummed softly around us, like it approved of this fragile peace we’d built. Lily glanced up at the sky, and for a moment, she looked almost content. Almost hopeful.

And me? I felt that tiny ember of hope I’d guarded so carefully flicker warmer, brighter. Maybe we didn’t have all the answers, and maybe tomorrow would be hard and strange and violent again. But in this moment, sharing a quiet fire and the barest hints of trust, it felt like the world could be kind for a while.

I closed my eyes, letting the ache in my bones remind me I was alive and not alone. We were friends, or something close enough to count. And that, right now, was everything.

I woke up feeling worse than before, which I hadn’t thought was possible. Everything felt heavy and out of place—my body, the night air, even the quiet forest around us. The trees, usually a comfort, seemed distant and unimpressed. My skin prickled with fever, and my clothes clung uncomfortably to my sweat-dampened skin. I tried to swallow and found my throat scratchy, dry as old paper.

The fire was low, just a faint orange glow, and Lily was sitting on the other side of it, arms crossed, staring off into the trees. She must’ve heard me shift because she turned right away, her eyes narrowing in concern. She looked tired—like she’d been waiting for me to wake up and hadn’t gotten any sleep herself. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks smudged with dirt, and something about seeing her this unguarded made my chest tighten.

“Hey,” she said quietly, getting up and coming over before I even tried to speak. She crouched next to me, her hand hovering over my forehead, like she was worried she’d hurt me just by touching. “How are you feeling?”

It took me a second to find my voice, and even then, it came out cracked and too quiet. “I’m fine,” I said, because that’s what you’re supposed to say. But we both knew I wasn’t. I could see it in the way her mouth tightened. My stomach twisted with guilt for lying, even though I wasn’t fooling anyone.

“You feel like a furnace,” she said, pressing her palm to my forehead anyway. Her hand was calloused and cool against my skin. I wanted to lean into that coolness, let it chase away the fever burning behind my eyes. “You’ve been out for a while.”

“Sorry,” I managed, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for. Maybe for making her worry, maybe for needing her help.

She shook her head, then grabbed the canteen from where it lay near the fire, unscrewing the cap. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, but there was no bite to it. She slipped an arm under my shoulders and helped me sit up just enough to drink. The water tasted slightly metallic, probably from the canteen, but it was cool and wet, and I almost sighed out loud with relief.

“Better?” she asked, her face close enough that I could see the lines of exhaustion around her eyes. The night smelled like damp earth and woodsmoke, and now that I was upright, I noticed my entire body ached, like I’d run ten miles or fought off a bear or something equally ridiculous.

I nodded, though my head felt floaty. “Thanks,” I said, and I meant it. She was being gentle, careful. This was Lily, who so often spoke in clipped words and sideways glances, who’d killed men without flinching. Now she was tucking a blanket around my shoulders, like I was something fragile.

She settled back on her heels, assessing me. “You’ve got a fever,” she said plainly. “You need to rest.”

“I have been resting,” I pointed out weakly. It came out sounding like an attempt at humor, and her mouth lifted at one corner. A smile, almost.

“Yeah, well, do it more,” she said. She looked over her shoulder at the forest, scanning for threats, I guess. When she turned back, there was something careful in her expression. “I’ll keep watch.”

It hit me then that she was worried about more than just my fever—she was worried about us being vulnerable, about someone stumbling upon our little camp and finding me half-dead. That protective edge in her eyes, it settled something in my chest, made me feel less alone. Less like a burden.

I tried to relax, but my muscles felt tense, my side hurt, and my mind kept drifting, half-awake, to jumbled images I couldn’t quite piece together. I kept seeing faces—people I’d lost—blinking in and out of my memory like fireflies. It made my heart ache. I pressed a hand to my chest, tried to focus on something real, something solid.

Lily noticed. She leaned in and took my hand—not in a dramatic way, just kind of scooped it up as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t go all strange on me,” she said softly, and I thought I heard a hint of teasing in her voice. “You’re allowed to be sick. You’re allowed to feel bad. No one’s judging you here.”

I exhaled, the sound shaky. “I don’t want to drag you down,” I admitted. It felt silly as soon as I said it, but it was true. I hated feeling useless. She’d done so much—fought, protected, fussed over me like some cranky nursemaid—and I was just lying here, sweating and shaking.

Her eyes softened, the fire’s light catching flecks of gold in them. “You’re not dragging me anywhere,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze. “This is what people do. They help each other. Besides, you’d do it for me.”

I thought about that. Would I? Yeah, I would. Even before we’d trusted each other, something about Lily made me want to step up, to be braver. She had that effect—pushing me toward the kind of person I wanted to be. I swallowed, tried to muster a real smile. “I would,” I said.

She nodded, like we were settling an argument I didn’t realize we’d been having. Then, as if deciding I looked stable enough not to keel over, she released my hand and reached for a piece of cloth. She dipped it in water and pressed it to my forehead. The coolness was heaven, and I closed my eyes, letting it soothe the heat pulsing beneath my skin.

In the quiet that followed, I felt the night envelop us. The distant chirps of insects, the gentle rustle of leaves, the slow crackle of dying embers—it all threaded together into something calm and steady. And Lily was right here, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her arm when she leaned forward to adjust the cloth, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of sweat and travel and fire smoke that clung to us both.

“I owe you,” I managed after a few minutes of silence, my voice a rasp against the hush of the woods.

“No, you don’t,” she said. Not snappy or sarcastic—just kind. Like maybe this was what she’d needed too, to know she could be here for someone, and they’d actually let her in.

It was quiet for a long time after that. Not tense quiet, not that uneasy hush where you’re both looking for an exit. More like a kind of gentleness neither of us wanted to ruin. The fire popped softly, and a stray ember danced up into the night. I could hear my own breathing, and Lily’s too, and it felt like we were sharing something personal without needing to say it out loud.

After a while, I swallowed and said, “Tell me more about your daughter.” My voice sounded small, but not timid—more like I was stepping carefully, out of respect.

Lily’s expression changed the moment I mentioned her daughter, like I’d just turned on a light in a dark room. Her face softened, and the set of her shoulders relaxed. “She’s seventeen now,” she said, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Seventeen and convinced she knows everything, and maybe she does. She’s... unstoppable. She was trying to climb trees before she could walk, you know?” She shook her head, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Stubborn as hell, thinks the world exists for her to explore. She reminds me a lot of myself, and that’s both wonderful and terrifying.”

I tried to picture it—this stubborn, fearless kid. “She sounds… intense,” I said softly, hoping that came across as admiration and not judgment.

Lily snorted softly. “Oh, she is. She never stops moving. Always pushing back if you try to hold her down.” Her voice had that warm, proud note that parents get when they talk about their kids doing something that both annoys and impresses them.

I let the silence settle for a beat before asking, “Where is she now?” I didn’t want to pry, but I also felt like we were onto something real here, something I wanted to know more about.

Lily’s gaze drifted away, and the brightness in her face dimmed. “Up north, with some friends. Good people who know how to keep her safe and grounded.” She licked her lips, as if choosing her words carefully. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t give her that stability. Not with the way I live. I wanted to, but I just…” She shrugged, her voice catching. “She deserves better than what I could offer.”

I nodded, my chest feeling heavier. I knew that kind of regret, the way it tastes bitter on your tongue. “You did what you thought was right,” I said quietly. “That’s all anyone can do.”

When she looked back at me, I saw something in her eyes—something vulnerable and honest. She gave a small nod, and though she tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Still, it was real. “Yeah,” she said, voice low. “I hope so.”

We let the night hold us for a while, the fire shrinking down to glowing coals. In that silence, I felt like we understood each other more than we did a few minutes ago. Not in some big, dramatic way. Just... better.

I cleared my throat softly, almost reluctant to break the quiet. “What about you?” I asked, my voice gentle. “You’ve been all over. What’s that like?”

Lily’s gaze moved up, past the trees, like she was searching the stars for her memories. “It’s been a lot of things,” she said, voice going distant. “Exciting, lonely, dangerous. I’ve seen places so beautiful they made my chest ache, and I’ve seen things I wish I could erase from my mind. I’ve met people who changed me, people I still miss, and people I’m glad I never saw again.” She let out a short laugh. “It’s not always glamorous, being rootless. It can wear you down.”

I tried to imagine that life—never staying still, never letting anyone in too close. It must’ve felt like carrying a heavy pack you could never put down. “Any fun stories?” I asked, hoping to give her a moment of pride, something that didn’t hurt.

A real smile flickered across her face. “There was this village up north. They were dealing with these bandits—nothing but bullies, really—and I decided I’d had enough of them pushing decent people around.” She shrugged, trying to play it off, but I saw the spark in her eyes. “I cornered their leaders, made them see reason.” She paused, then snorted. “They ran off so fast I’m surprised their pants didn’t catch fire.”

Despite everything, I grinned. “You’re kind of a badass, you know.”

Lily rolled her eyes, but I could tell the compliment landed somewhere good. “I just do what needs to be done,” she said. But there was a gentleness in how she said it this time.

The fire cracked softly, and I could feel something hanging between us, something heavier. I took a breath and asked the question that had been on my mind. “You mentioned someone once—your first love. What happened?”

Her whole body went a little still, and I almost regretted asking. Almost. But then she started to speak, voice quieter now, like she was talking around a lump in her throat. “We were kids, basically. We had all these plans... We thought nothing could touch us.” She looked into the coals, as if the answers were there. “But life took a turn. She died. Just like that. And I was left wondering how I was supposed to keep breathing when half of me was gone.”

My own throat tightened at that. It was such a simple, brutal truth. I reached out, placing my hand over hers. She didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry,” I said, because what else could I say?

Lily nodded, staring at the fire, her eyes wet but not spilling over. “I never really got over it,” she confessed quietly. “I told myself it was safer not to let anyone in. That maybe I wouldn’t hurt so bad if I kept everyone at a distance.” She swallowed hard. “But sometimes, especially when it’s quiet, I wonder if I made a mistake. Maybe I could have found happiness again, if I just… tried.”

The pain in her voice was so human, so recognizable. I’d carried a different kind of loneliness, but I knew the shape of it. “It’s never too late,” I said softly, hoping she could feel how much I meant it.

She turned, meeting my eyes. I could see the battle going on inside her—the old habits telling her to slam the door shut, the new hope telling her to leave it open. Then she let out a breath and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Maybe,” she said, and I believed her.

I asked about Tinka’s father, not to pry, but because it seemed like something else she needed to say. She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Just a fling. I found out I was pregnant after he was gone. I raised her the best I could, alone. Told myself we didn’t need him. And we managed. But…” She sighed, looking at her boots. “Sometimes I wonder if I robbed her of something. If I should’ve tried to find him.”

My heart ached for her, for the weight of all these what-ifs. “From what you’ve said, Tinka’s strong and fearless. She’s going to be okay. And she knows you love her, right?”

Lily looked at me then, and something in her eyes eased. “Yeah,” she said, voice just above a whisper. “I think she does.”

We walked on for a while, not needing to fill the silence. The sun had started its slow descent, turning the fields and trees a softer shade of gold. A warm breeze brushed over us, carrying the smell of wildflowers and hay, as if the world was trying to tell us it wasn’t all bad. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there were quiet moments of kindness, even when everything else felt impossible.

I kept sneaking glances at Lily, noticing how her posture eased as we settled into the quiet, her shoulders not quite as tense. Without the fire or the night sky, without the urgent need to survive hanging right over our heads, I could see her more clearly now. She wasn’t just scars and stories or that wary look in her eye. She was a person who’d been hurt—and who’d kept going anyway. It made me feel protective and in awe, all at once.

She caught me looking once, and I half expected her to roll her eyes or make some snarky comment. But instead, her lips curved into something that might’ve been a smile, just shy of it, like she didn’t know if she was allowed to feel okay. I smiled back, just a small tilt of my mouth, letting her know I wasn’t judging, just glad to be there.

Eventually, the questions I’d been dancing around couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I took a breath and asked about the scars—softly, carefully. I didn’t want to poke at old wounds, but I wanted to understand. I wanted to know the things that shaped her, the memories that echoed when she was quiet.

Her answer came slowly, like it hurt to push the words out. A wolf shapeshifter, a fight in the woods, someone named Dina who she tried to save and couldn’t. Her voice was quieter than I’d ever heard it, and each syllable felt like it carried a weight of its own. She didn’t look at me while she talked, and I understood why. This wasn’t just a story, it was something lodged inside her, something raw and personal.

I listened, not moving, not daring to break the moment with some empty reassurance. The way her voice trembled on Dina’s name said more than I could ever fix with words. I knew what it was like to carry that kind of regret, to hold someone’s memory too close.

When she finished, I found myself speaking just as softly. “I’m sorry.” It felt like the only thing worth saying, because it was true. Hearing about Dina—and about the scars and what they stood for—made my chest tighten. I thought of Aldara, and how I’d never really healed from losing her, either. The loss just learned to sit quietly inside me, like a passenger I’d stopped trying to kick out.

Lily turned to me, her eyes meeting mine this time, and I saw something there that hadn’t been before. Maybe recognition, or understanding. Maybe just relief that she wasn’t the only one who knew what it felt like to fail someone you loved. We didn’t talk about it much, but in that look, we said everything: I know it hurts. I know you’re still carrying it. Me too.

After that, the heaviness between us changed shape. It wasn’t gone, but it was shared now. We walked a bit farther in silence, letting the quiet settle. The birds kept singing, and the sun kept dipping lower, and the world didn’t stop because of our grief. Somehow, that made it easier to keep moving forward.

At some point, I tried for a smile, something small and hopeful. “If we ever run into trouble again,” I said lightly, “I’ll do my best. I may not be the best fighter, but I’m stubborn enough to slow something down, at least.”

That coaxed a snort of amusement out of her, and I realized how much I liked the sound. “You’d better,” she said, her tone almost playful. “I’m counting on you to distract whatever’s out there while I do the hard work.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. The banter felt good, like stretching a sore muscle that was finally starting to heal. We kept walking, side by side, our shadows growing long across the dirt road. The fields swayed gently, the forest rustled softly, and somewhere in the distance, the sky was folding itself into dusk.

We didn’t have all the answers. We didn’t know what tomorrow would look like. But right now, we were here, walking together. And that felt human in all the best ways—imperfect and hopeful, painful and comforting, all at once. It made me think that maybe, against all odds, we were going to be okay.

We kept walking, the sky turning all those colors I used to love back home—pale oranges, warm pinks, the kind of colors that make you feel like everything might be okay, just for a minute. I don’t know what made me speak up then—maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the way Lily felt like someone who could actually hear me. But suddenly I was talking, my voice soft under that wide-open sky.

“I miss my friends back home,” I said, surprising myself with how raw it sounded. The words came out quieter than I intended, like I was testing them in the air. Lily glanced over, and I could feel her attention land on me, steady and kind. She didn’t push, didn’t rush me. Just waited, the way a good friend does.

So I told her about them—about Yoongi, who was like the world’s most reliable anchor, keeping me steady when everything else felt like it was slipping. About Jin, who could find the funny in anything, who could make us laugh even when we were scared or tired or heartbroken. And Wendy—bright, restless Wendy with her wild ideas and big plans, always dragging us off on some adventure. I could almost see them as I spoke, like they were walking beside me again, their laughter drifting on the breeze.

Lily nodded at all the right times, and when she smiled, it didn’t feel forced. “They sound like a pretty unforgettable group,” she said softly, and just hearing that was enough to loosen some knot in my chest.

I tried to paint the picture for her: the bonfires on the beach near Syrena, the nights we stayed up way too late teasing each other and making grand plans. There’d been complications, too—Wendy’s unreturned crush on Yoongi, her eventual relationship with Jin—but somehow, we always found a way through. I told Lily about how our families and covens intertwined, how the celebrations felt like home in a way words couldn’t really describe.

My voice caught a little when I admitted how much I missed them. “Do you think they remember me?” I asked, my gaze dropping to the gravel road under our boots. It was a silly question, maybe, but I couldn’t help it. The world felt so different now, and the idea that maybe I’d faded in their memories hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Lily nudged me, her shoulder against mine. “They haven’t forgotten,” she said simply. “People don’t just forget someone they love. One day you’ll see them again, and it’ll feel like you never left.”

I looked at her, and there was something about the way she said it—so matter-of-fact and sincere—that made it easier to breathe. I smiled, small but real. “You think so?”

She grinned, a soft twinkle in her eye. “I know so. Besides, you’re kind of hard to forget.” She winked, and I laughed, feeling lighter.

It was like, for a second, I could let myself imagine that future—coming home, stepping back into my old life, picking berries in my garden, laughing with Wendy, teasing Yoongi, rolling my eyes at Jin’s jokes. It didn’t feel so impossible when Lily said it out loud.

Then I told her about Taehyung, how he hid at my cottage for a summer after his pack rejected him. How he’d become like family to me, full of jokes and life, shrugging off pain like it was nothing. And Jimin—just saying his name made my throat tighten. I whispered how much I missed him, how I hoped we could be together again someday, even though I was scared I might not live long enough to see that day come.

Lily’s hand found my arm, a gentle, human touch. “You’ve made it this far,” she said quietly, “you can keep going. And I’m right here.”

That did something to me—put a crack in the walls I’d built to keep the fear in. I nodded, my eyes stinging a little. Her belief felt like a gift I didn’t know I needed.

I let myself talk about Cadoc, the air elemental who’d helped me escape when things got bad. How he was distant and weird and not really what I’d call a friend at first, but when it counted, he showed up. It made me ache in a good way, remembering all these people, all these pieces of home.

“God, I’m homesick,” I muttered, pressing a hand to my chest like I could hold the feeling in place. The fields and forests around us were beautiful, sure, but they weren’t mine. They weren’t my cottage, my garden, my friends. They weren’t the place where I felt safe and seen.

Lily understood—at least, as much as anyone could. She nodded, her expression softening. “I get it,” she said. “But you’re not alone right now. You’ve got me, and I’m sticking around.”

I smiled at her, gratitude swelling inside me. It felt strange and comforting at the same time, to find a friend here and now, on this dusty road far from home.

So I told her more. I described my cottage in the woods, the tiny garden where I grew strawberries and herbs, the little bird named Patto who sang at my window every morning, and the doe, Delinah, who sneaked in to nibble at my plants. I tried to show Lily that part of me—the quiet mornings, the light filtering through the branches, the feeling that maybe the world wasn’t such a hard place after all.

She listened like it mattered, like these details helped her understand me. “It sounds perfect,” she said softly, and I could tell she meant it.

“I just want to go back,” I admitted, my voice catching. “I want to feel that peace again, sit in my garden, and just… be home.”

Lily’s hand on my shoulder again, a small squeeze. “We’ll get you there,” she said, her voice steady. “I promise.”

I looked at her, tears threatening at the corners of my eyes. “You should come with me,” I said impulsively, imagining how she’d fit into that picture—Lily talking to Wendy, bantering with Jin, rolling her eyes at Yoongi’s calm demeanor. “You belong there, too. Or at least… I’d like you there.”

She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I think I’d like that. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?”

I laughed, and it came out easy. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to carry every burden alone. The sun dipped lower, its light softer now, painting the world in gentle hues. We kept walking, our pace unhurried, the road stretching ahead. And as the day gave way to twilight, I realized something: I wasn’t just hoping for home anymore—I was starting to believe I might actually find it. And when I did, I wouldn’t be alone.

We walked in a kind of hush that wasn’t uncomfortable at all—just quiet, like the world around us was catching its breath. The trees arched overhead, the sky softened into evening, and somewhere a bird was singing a last, sweet note before settling in for the night. When Lily spoke, it was almost surprising, but not unwelcome. It felt like we were in a safe place now—somewhere we could let the past peek through the cracks.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and thoughtful, “I had a place like that once. Not quite a cottage, but… it was an old cabin by a pond. More like a shack, really. Dina and I used to hide out there, away from her mother. We’d fish in the mornings, sit by the fire at night, and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt like ours.”

I glanced over at her, half expecting the usual guarded look, but what I found was something gentler. Her gaze was distant, aimed somewhere past the horizon. “That sounds amazing,” I said softly, meaning it. I could almost picture it: the quiet water reflecting the sky, the hush of two friends passing time without any hurry. “Do you ever think about going back?”

Lily’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “Sometimes. But it’s not the same without her.” Her voice had that quiet tremor people get when they talk about someone they lost long ago but still miss every day. “I just keep the memories now. They’re easier to carry than trying to hold onto the place itself.”

My hand reached out almost on its own, my fingers brushing her arm. The contact felt real and kind of important, but also so normal. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, not wanting to stir up old pain. “I didn’t mean—”

She shook her head, a sad but understanding smile on her lips. “It’s okay. It’s been a long time. And places like that—they never really leave you, you know? They get inside you. Like your cottage is inside you, shaping who you are.”

I nodded, something tight in my chest easing a little. “I think so, too. Those places become part of us. They give us strength when everything else is falling apart.”

She looked at me then, really looked at me, her eyes less distant now and more… present. “And maybe when this is over, we can find new places. Make new memories. Together.”

I smiled, feeling the warmth of that word—together—spread through me like a gentle flame. “I’d like that,” I whispered, almost too quietly, but I knew she heard.

We kept walking. The road stretched out and out, but it didn’t feel endless in a bad way anymore. More like a promise than a threat. I thought about my old home, and about Lily’s cabin, and about all the strange, in-between times that had led us here. Maybe somewhere ahead there was a new home waiting for both of us—one that smelled like fresh earth and summer flowers, where laughter and conversation felt effortless. Maybe Tinka would be there, too. Maybe it’d be bright and warm, the birds singing in the trees, and maybe it’d be summer so we could celebrate Litha together, the way old friends and new friends do.

The sky was sliding into night, one star after another winking into place. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something flash across the darkness, quick and bright.

“Look,” Lily said, pointing up. “A shooting star.”

I tilted my head back just in time to catch the tail end of it. I closed my eyes and made a wish—several wishes, actually. For home, for peace, for the life I longed to return to, and for a future where Lily and Tinka could settle into my old cottage while I moved into Jimin’s place nearby. Where the hybrids would live close enough to visit for dinner, and the birds would sing every morning. Where the first Litha we spent together tasted of smreka and hope. I held those wishes close, like seeds I wanted to plant in my heart.

When I opened my eyes, Lily was watching me with a half-smile. “Did you make a wish?”

I nodded, a small grin tugging at my lips. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” she said, turning her gaze to the sky, her voice lighter now. “I made one too. I have a feeling they’ll come true.”

And just like that, the world felt a bit kinder. We walked on, guided by starlight and the quiet certainty that we weren’t walking alone anymore. The future still felt big and uncertain, but I had hope like a steady pulse in my chest. I had Lily’s hand close enough to reach for if I stumbled. I had the memory of my old home inside me, and I had the promise that maybe we’d find something just as special in the days to come.

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live@jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki

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[bookwormbynight]

bookworm-san, dear mutual. do you happen to have any more fem! light headcanons/thoughts? for healing, for the soul……… 😌

Darling. Gimme just a second to reread my posts on the AU and get my brain juices going again 🙏

(Also, fun fact: I do actually have my name in my lil bio bit lol! I don't think most people notice.)

Fem!Light during the Yotsuba Arc may have been more aggressive than canon Light about separating herself from a relationship with Misa, simply because it isn't assumed that "well, I'm the one who must have asked... I just can't figure out why" because that's not how her relationship dynamics work. She doesn't remember saying yes, she can't imagine why she would have said yes, Misa is clearly delusional and can fuck right off. Her aggression might be the only reason why Misa wouldn't white-knight his way into stopping the mutual lawlight murder attempt on their first "date" lmao. I can clearly imagine him trying to heroically interject and protect his girlfriend only for Light to shriek "fuck OFF Misa" so 'unfemininely' that it takes Misa a full fifteen minutes to reboot lmao.

This is me projecting because I'm a 100 pound girl with a-cups but I want Light to have small boobs (also canon Light has a flat ass anyway). Let me sexualize my body type for once, gimme that. Tiny lace bralettes, zero cleavage through a shirt neckline, barely a handful of titty and you can probably fit most of the boob in your mouth, but anybody who's interested in her either doesn't notice or actively likes it.

On a related note, average-ish height, like canon, so like 5'4 or 5'5, but small person. If that makes sense. I want people to be able to just pick her up with minimal effort because that means it would happen more often (I have friends who literally just throw me over their shoulders and walk away without asking me first) and she would fucking hate it and I think that's hilarious.

Flats-only girlie. Coward. Until L bullies her into heels for fetish purposes ONCE and Light has trouble walking and it makes her red-faced angry embarrassed which does NOT deter L in the slightest.

I think she'd wear her hair half-up half-down in a neat little clip in the back with bangs, it's very Professional and Pretty and intentionally chosen. She pigtail braids her hair at night Cinderella-style to keep it nice and L finds it annoying. The only time we would see it down in the canon timeline would be in solitary confinement, and the rain + foot scene and proceeding death scene (because that was immediately after).

For her death scene in particular, I think her hair would start up, as it usually is, but it would definitely have gone really askew and fallen out of the clip by the time she dies.

I really can't decide how exactly her relationship with Ryuk would change based on her perception of gender dynamics but I'm absolutely sure it would, whether or not we genderbend Ryuk as well. Idk, someone else help me flesh this one out bc it's all just a nebulous feeling in my head.

The daddy issues. Dude. The daddy issues would be so bad. Like, we already had "I desperately want my dad to think I live up to his expectations of me + dad is too busy with his job all the time to feel like a legit regular part of the family". Now imagine that combined with the fact that Soichiro just assumes Light has Woman Brain. "It's wonderful that you're top of your class and you're getting a degree, all capable women should go to college, but don't you think you should pick a less demanding career path so you won't have such a hard time having a family one day?? It's really sweet that you want to follow in my career path honey but I don't know if this job is good for girls like you". That scene with Namikawa would happen and L would praise her like canon and Soichiro's jaw would fucking drop. Ugh.

On a similar note I absolutely do not think Light would be able to stomach playing up the "I'm JUST a GIRL I CANT be KIRA 🥺🥺🥺" schtick even to draw some of the suspicion off of herself because canon Light already had such a hard time literally just not showing off and now add in fem! Light's inferiority complex. She would get so salty every single time people suggested it's not possible for her to be Kira ""even though I'm not"". The ONLY times she would be willing to play up the canon ditz act is when it makes her look a little careless, NEVER stupid.

[npdkondraki]

hello ben npdkondraki. it is your mutual muppet. yourscp posting has made me want to get back into scp but also that is such a tall order and i was wondering if you had any sort of "starter kit" of sorts to get back into it.

covered in blood and shaking hey muppet. you put me under psychological torment by asking this of me. enjoy your crumbs

OK FIRST OFF. MANDATORY READING TO UNDERSTAND SOME THINGS IN THESE;

go read about the misc types of reality benders . really the greens are most important and come up the most but learning the others is also recommended tbh.

go read the personnel / character dossier . half of these guys are so incredibly niche they dont even come up in "standard mainsite affairs" but theres some good ones on there. pick and choose whoever you like and go from there

go read the o5 command dossier. im only recommending this because they play a fairly large role in wider scp antics. this is literally just surface level info about them however you gotta take it upon yourself to learn more. surprisingly i know next to nothing about the o5 so i am for once Not the person to ask about them

ok thats all back to the good shit thank u. everything from here on out is tales or scips that i classify as tales for some fucking reason dont even ask its too convoluted. enjoy my hand-crafted selection of insanities

annon - im biased i just really like annon. but its good starter material i think?????????????? maybe. im assuming so. anyway this ones about the o5 council i told you theyd come up i hope you read about them otherwise this will like . probably not make sense

duke 'till dawn - i dont need to say why im including this one. anyway this ones got some good characterization in it. also dracula is there

excerpts from "how to survive when reality doesn't", by alto clef - transcript of a lecture from clef its Really Good and i enjoy the characterization. id say its a pretty good view on how it speaks + how it generally composes itself .:-)

transcript of dr alto clefs seminar, "reality benders and you: how to survive when existence doesn't" - dj khaled voice Anotha One. again i just like the characterization here + good view on how she does its job

incident 239-b- clef-kondraki - this one is MANDATORY if you read nothing else here READ THIS ONE. anyways. good writing + baller characterization + good story + everything here fucks severely no notes. written exclusively in the form of transcripts of audio logs and camera footage. i think this is a good look at how most of them compose themselves under stress .:-) (BONUS: theres an abridged version which sucks badly and i love it. its the normal version but its lolfoundation now. its great. its awful. this one isnt mandatory its just a fun extra) (also read supplemental report 239-b-192 for. additional lore)

routine psychological evaluations by dr glass - this one is stupid but it is a good starting point. this is where a lot of the fanon ideas of them come from BUT! its pretty accurate to their actual characters too so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

yesterday - this one is really angsty im sorry. unforchies its also mandatory reading. read about these guys during the last day of their lives NOW

the king is dead - im stretching the term "starter point" pretty thin i think but it is semi-important knowledge ????????? kind of ? it gets brought up several times in misc tales & canons so its a starter point To Me.

epitaph - once again stretching the term "starter point" but this is semi-important knowlege vis a vis gears & iceberg and why theyre Like That. also its really good and id be amiss to not include it honestly

ok thats all the ones i can think of. im sure im missing some but . go forth go read about other tales

[kryptznnn]

♡-The Feelings Mutual

➸ INTERESTS; - agedup!lo’ak x fem!omatikayan reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - For as long as you can remember your brother has always had issues with the youngest son of the Sully family. Their rivalry would constantly get them in trouble and even after being punished they would go back to doing the same stupid things as before, just by their actions you grew highly annoyed by them both. Expecting the same feelings in return from Lo’ak, you’re surprised to learn how much of a turn things take.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 1.1k tension, aggression, romantic tension, arguing, offensive language. That's about it honestly!!

➸a.i; - omg guess who's back (not for long), I wanted to post this old draft to bring back my return!! i'll get started on other works, just lmk what you'd like!! 🌸my main navigation

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

♡-The Feelings Mutual Masterlist

“Your sister was right you truly don’t have a brain” You stated harshly, jabbing your finger into the boy’s chest.

“Your brother started it, like always. Don’t be mad I’m defending myself” He scoffed in response, quickly pushing your hand to the side and turning around.

“Lo’ak don’t be stupid, all you do is compete to the near death with my brother for what? what could you possibly be trying to prove?” You asked him, now walking with him side by side. “It’s not worth nearly dying and constantly getting in trouble for, you’re insane.” You explained, hoping to talk some sense into him for the hundredth time. Honestly speaking to him was easier than speaking to your brother, it’s like he physically had no ears.

“Whatever” he said blatantly, walking a little faster to get further ahead from you, you just gave up and stopped in your tracks.

“Eywa you can’t be more like your brother maybe? Spare everyone a headache!” You shouted loud enough for him to hear you. He yelled along the words “Fuck You” and stuck his middle finger up at you, they were sky people terms you didn't fully understand, but regardless it was still harsh and derogatory.

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

Throughout the next few weeks your relationship with Lo’ak, if you could even call it that, was splitting quickly and any laughter or amusing times you spent together quickly turned into nasty comments starting to shoot back and forth from one another. Now you were starting to sound even worse than your brother and in all honesty you even shocked both of the boys with your replies, being vile and malicious.

Truth is you didn’t mean any of it.

Well,

most of it.

Lo’aks' snark remarks and attitude dug under a layer of your skin no one has ever reached before; it made you burn with anger and frustration. Not necessarily hatred, just more curious as to what started this all and why were you both so angry with one another. More importantly, what drove him to be so rude and hateful towards you? Now it didn’t even seem like your brother was the problem, you were.

Truth be told before this you had always seen something in him, maybe it was his sense of humor and never failing to make you laugh. Or his charismatic attitude along with his impressive athletic skills and looks. He was nice, but now you couldn’t even tell who he was anymore, and it made you wonder just how bad he hated you.

He hates when you’re out with friends, especially his friends, but can never give a reasonable explanation as to why. It seems the only time he could keep his remarks and attitude to himself is when you two were alone, which was never for long because someone would always end up between the two of you for the cycle to start over.

It drove you insane, was he kind or not? Did he hate you or not? Do you hate him or not? It didn’t necessarily matter anymore because now you two are arguing, again, but this time you want to have your questions answered.

“So, you do it for fun?? You badmouth the other Navi that I hang out with because it’s fun for you?? Do you not see how stupid you sound??!” You yelled, pacing around in the depths of the forest while Lo’ak shook his head at you in disbelief, nearly mocking you.

“I’m stupid?? Pay attention to the guys you hang out with it’s so obvious why they’re with you to begin with. You’re too stupid to see it, I’m damn near doing your ass a favor” He spat boldly, walking up to you and looking you in the eyes. You rolled your eyes at him

“Oh, so that makes you some kind of hero now. All you’ve done for the past couple of weeks is shut me down and slander me. Complain about them not being shit when you aren’t eith- “

“I’m an asshole? You’ve been doing the same shit to me. You’re upset about my attitude like you aren’t showing me the feeling is mutual. You and your brother are always on my ass just give me a fucking break and fuck off.” He said, cutting you off and grabbing his belongings to leave. He thought it was stupid even coming here in the first place, you had called him to this place to “talk things out”, only for you both to lash out at one another and forget what even started this whole situation.

It was strange to you because this time he wasn’t yelling, he was upset yes, but his response wasn’t necessarily harsh, it was more of a deflect from you. You stood there unaware of what to say, should you be upset or keep your composure? Should you say something else or stay silent?

“You’re just going to leave?” You ask, standing in front of him attempting to block him from walking away from the conversation. He stood there in front of you, scanning your face, as you did his.

His gaze softened when he looked in your eyes, seeing right into you. You held your ground reflecting the same actions back onto him, the tension was strong, as much as you wanted to look away from him you couldn’t.

It felt as if your body, no, the universe wouldn’t let you, as if this was something that had to happen. You tilted your head slightly and his eyes followed before he cleared his throat.

“I don’t have anything else to say to you, don’t worry about me because you won’t be seeing me anymore” he said softly, placing his bow over his torso and turning around, now leaving you alone entirely with nothing but the night sky and your thoughts.

That meant something it had to, people don’t just look at one another that way, especially if they hate you.

Or at least if they claim they do

That felt like everything but hatred, and honestly it made you question your entire relationship with Lo’ak to begin with.

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn