#so just take an assembled set for easier reading

[alexis-royce]

The canon interpretation of Cards is that the player is possibly being given the domain of games, and I like that! But these titles can be nitpicked and disputed, so The Academic already has their eye on paper and sorting systems. Looks like that feud with Pages isn't quite over…

[Alternate Link for downloading]

[witchywithwhiskey]

i've spent the last four days working on assembling a new dresser and it's still not done so i'm consoling myself with fluffy thots about hot men doing it for me 😇

neighbor steve rogers sees you struggling to lug the big, heavy box up the stairs to your apartment and immediately jumps to help. he carries it up the stairs and waits for you to unlock your apartment door before bringing it inside. he asks where you want him to put it down and you lead him into your bedroom, where he sets it down.

he stands with his hands on his hips, catching his breath and offhandedly comments that he's free for the afternoon if you need help assembling whatever's in the box (because he doesn't know). you're worrying your lip, debating whether to take your neighbor up on his super generous offer, when steve casually mentions how much he loves putting furniture together.

you finally decide to accept his help. he races downstairs to his apartment and grabs his toolbox, getting back so fast you wonder if he took the stairs three at a time. (he did. he was worried you would change your mind.)

together, you take everything out of the box and organize all the pieces, and once that's done, he hands you the instructions and looks to you to tell him where to start. you try to offer to screw some things in, but it becomes very clear very quickly that you hate everything about it, so steve gently takes over. you sit on the floor next to him and read the instructions and hand him tools and screws and hardware and stuff.

and when you get hungry, you offer to buy dinner. it takes a little arguing and extra stubbornness on your part, but you finally get him to agree to let you pay for all the food you order, since it's the least you can do for his help. he still grumbles about it a little bit, but good-naturedly.

you end up eating dinner together on the floor of your bedroom, talking for hours even after he finishes assembling the dresser. by the end of the night, he's convinced you to let him buy dinner next time. it isn't until he's gone home that you realize he asked you out on a date—and you accepted.

then, it isn't until you and steve move in together that he tells you his big secret: he doesn't actually like assembling furniture very much, he just knew how hard it could be and he wanted to help make your life a little easier. and he wanted to spend time with his pretty neighbor. you forgive him for his lie, and for keeping it a secret, as long as he promises to still assemble all furniture. he does.

roommate bucky barnes who carried the super heavy box your unassembled dresser came in up the stairs to your apartment after he saw it had been sitting in the lobby for a few days. it's blocking your bedroom door when you get home one day, and you snort to yourself, but you're grateful all the same.

but then one night you start assembling it while he's out with friends or on a date—you don't know—and it's so hard. the instructions are confusing and some of your screws are a little crooked and by the time bucky gets home, you're so sure you've already messed it up that you're crying on your bedroom floor.

bucky finds you like that, and he's never seen you cry so he's shocked, standing frozen in your doorway while you cry over the stupid dresser. and it doesn't take very long for bucky to decide he fucking hates seeing you cry and the next thing he knows, he's sitting down on the floor next to you and gathering you into his lap.

you're startled, not having realized bucky was home, but when you recognize it's him, you curl into his chest and weep and tell him how you've already ruined your new dresser. bucky consoles you, rubbing a hand up and down your back, his other holding your head gently against his chest to keep you cuddled close.

when you finally settle down, bucky asks you gently if you'd like his help. you nod, feeling a little pathetic, but bucky just chucks you under your chin and tells you to leave everything to him. you don't really think he means everything, but he sits you down on your bed and wraps a blanket around you, then goes to work.

bucky keeps you talking the whole time he builds the dresser and the time flies. it's late by the time he's done, but you giggle and clap when he shows off the fully assembled dresser with a flourish. he laughs and tackles you onto the bed, covering you with his heavy body and pretending to collapse with exhaustion.

you fall asleep tangled up together on your bed, and from that night on, you and your roommate grow closer and closer. one day, not too long after, bucky confesses he has feelings for you. your first kiss is in the apartment you first shared together.

no matter how many times you move—into a bigger apartment, then a house—bucky insists you never get rid of that dresser he built for you. he always wants to remember where your love story began. you agree and you take it with you everywhere you go.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

TF141 + König help you move

Here’s some backstory (bc this is incredibly self-indulgent send help): you take everything upon yourself, plan everything down to the last detail so you just wind up overwhelming yourself and then you’re just running on fumes the entire time, you are not at peace until you’ve moved into the new place, you are a ball of stress aaaand go:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s very much the type to watch you go, he knows you’re overloading yourself and he wants to step in but he also knows you need to learn how to ask for help

That’s not to say he’s completely hands off, he’s listening to every word when you review your checklist, he’s helping you pack- everything from assembling the boxes to sealing them when they’re full

He’s taken it upon himself to make sure you eat a proper meal

“What’s this?” You ask as you mute your phone while on hold with the utilities company for your new place,

“It’s breakfast. Eat.”

“I already-”

“Iced coffee isn’t food, love.”

Bet

So he’ll take to cooking or grabbing your favorite take out

If you’re worried you forget something, he’ll go down the list with you, going so far as to grab your notebook and review it with you

He encourages you to sort through your belongings and figure out what you want to keep and what you want to give away

His rule: if I haven’t seen you use it, wear it, read it, or touch it in the last six months, it’s going in the giveaway box (save for stuff with sentimental value)

Surprisingly enough, it helps reduce how much you have to pack and you couldn’t be more thankful

All in all, 10/10

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s so much fun to be around

He knows you’re taking on too much and he’ll tell you as much

“I’m fine, Johnny, I just like these things done a certain way. And when the order gets messed up, I have a panic attack.”

“Well, then explain how you’d like it done, and I’ll see to it that it stays that way, sound good?”

He’s so understanding god bless

He does everything possible to make the process stress free, from putting on music while you’re packing and cleaning, to being in charge of snacks 

He helps divide the labor very seamlessly, he does all the physical stuff (packing, cleaning, moving furniture, etc) and he leaves the logistics to you, (utilities, new apt, address change, etc)

If at any point you feel like it’s still too much, he’ll jump in without hesitation 

Just tell him where you’re struggling and what your next task is and he’ll gladly take over

You point, he’ll shoot (or pack, in this case)

John Price:

Like??

Good luck trying to take control of the whole thing

He’s way ahead of you and doesn’t let you do a single thing on your own, that’s not true, he’ll let you do things on your own but not all of it, you get the idea

Man’s a Captain for god’s sake, he definitely has a system to make the process easier

He makes sure you start the process sooner rather than later to avoid scrambling last minute

Before even buying boxes, he’ll sit down with you to come up with a checklist for things to do and what order to pack your place in

He’s very encouraging throughout the whole process

“Phew, almost an hour later and I was successfully able to transfer my car insurance.” You sighed slumping against the table, practically throwing your phone to the other side of the room

“You’re doin’ great, love, keep it up.” He comes up behind you to rub your shoulders and rub your back encouragingly

He’s with you every step of the way

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

I love him but I can see it as being kind of chaotic lmao but still fun!

You better believe he’s got Animal Crossing music on loop

He claims it’ll help you get into the cleaning/packing frame of mind and son of a bitch he’s right 

He sets a hard limit of one to two things a day, so if you finished packing up your living room sooner than you expected and now you want to move on to your bedroom, too damn bad

He’ll physically stop you lol

“You already did enough, babe, it’s time to rest.”

“I feel fine, Ky, I can keep going.”

“Trust me darlin’, take it easy, you’re doing great.”

Definitely the type to give you a treat to help keep you motivated, or even start your day with a treat

You’re dreading calling the new internet company to set up your new wifi? Well guess what? He’s treating you to coffee and a cinnamon roll from your favorite cafe to help motivate you

You’re dead tired after packing up all your belongings in your room, dinner is your pick babe, whatever you want, yes, Taco Bell is perfectly ok 

König:

Very good at following directions and equally good at being perceptive and knowing when to step in without being asked

He knows you have a habit of taking on more than you can handle but he also knows your tells just as well

Increased irritability, you’re more tired than usual, you’re not eating as much, drinking more coffee than you normally do, jittery leg, trouble sleeping, he knows you babe, he sees you

So he does everything he can to prevent you from getting to that point

If you’re complaining about packing all your books, don’t worry about it, he’s on it

You’re stressed about cleaning as you pack, no need, he’s already coming behind you with Clorox wipes, a broom, and a swiffer mop

He encourages you to offload some of your tasks to him, insisting that he knows how you want it done and can do it accordingly

“Schatz, you have so much on your plate already, let me handle renting the truck and getting the supplies, we’ll go over what you want to do first, and I’ll help you do it, ok?”

At the end of the night when your limbs ache from exhaustion, he gently taking your hands in his and massaging the tension away, placing little kisses as he goes

[furba]

🌟 1998 Furby Re-Lashing Guide 🌟

A visual step-by-step guide to my own process for giving 1998 Furbies lashes that retain the classic look. There may be other guides and methods out there, this is just my own way to do it!

MATERIALS NEEDED:

Detached Eyelids ( guide for removal: CLICK HERE )

13mm D-Curl Lash Extensions ( see photo )*

Mod Podge

Tacky Glue

X-Acto Knife

Small Paint Brush

Q-tip

Lightweight Paper

SHARP Scissors

Clean Water

Washcloth or Paper Towel

Optional, Ruler with cm/mm marks & Marker or Pen * 13mm will be closest to original length, I would not recommend anything longer than 15mm unless you want the lashes to really look insanely long.

I will put all of the steps under the readmore! 👇

Step 1:

Use the x-acto knife to gently peel up an eyelash foil strip, and be careful not to disturb the lashes. Go slowly and only handle the strip by the sticky foil. You will only need one strip for a pair of lashes!

Step 2:

Place the sticky strip on the lightweight paper, I put it close to the edge because it'll be easier to cut out later. Paint a thin layer of Mod Podge over the base of the lashes on the strip to secure them. This is an important step, there isn't much else keeping them in place, otherwise!

It's hard to wait, but let the glue dry before handling the strip again, I suggest a good 30 minutes or so.

Step 3:

Now that the glue has dried, cut out the paper around the strip and very carefully trim the foil and paper at the sides and underneath the curl of the lashes. Do this slowly, so you don't accidentally snip the lashes, you ONLY want to trim back the paper+foil. This will make them appear more flush with the eyelid when glued in.

Step 4:

Optionally, use a ruler to find the center of the strip and mark it with a marker, I used a Sharpie because it dries instantly. It's possible to eyeball this, but I like them to be as even as possible.

Snip the strip in half, very sharp scissors will prevent the foil from bending or warping. Again, be careful not to snip the lashes themselves! It's ok if you lose one or two in this process, as long as they still look relatively clean and even once split.

Step 5:

Apply a drop of tacky glue to the back of each eyelid and use the Q-tip to spread it in a thin, sticky layer. The eyelids have a little trench you can use as a guide for placement.

You can repeat this process if you wish with the top of the lash strip where it will be applied, as well, to make it stick better. I haven't tried this myself, yet.

Place the base of the lash strip over the tacky glue and press it into position, I use the backs of my thumb nails to hold them firmly while the glue sets. It make take some effort and patience to get them to stay in the curve, just try not to slide them around.

Step 6 (Final):

After the tacky glue has had some time to dry, I like to apply a final coat of Mod Podge over the paper and underside of the eyelids to seal and protect everything. Give this 30 minutes to an hour to fully dry before re-assembling your Furby!

✨ Voila! Fresh new eyelashes! ✨

They won't look exactly like the original, but close enough for me. I'm sure the process can be improved in some ways, so if you have any feedback please share it in comments or tags!

Good luck with your projects and thank you for reading! 🌟

[dragonrider9905]

Racing Heart

Chapter 2

(Part 1)(Part 2)

Summery: You catch up with the Batch at last...and you can finally learn the truth about Tech and what he feels for you. Warning: Angst with a happy ending; jealousy; feelings of anxiety.

You pulled the drop of your hood further down to obscure your face and swirled the contents of your drink. The colors spinned and turned but refused to be mixed. The blue and purple layers were separated by a yellow one and when you turned the liquid about, it created a fascinating illusion. The lights were dim in the bar where you sat, but the illumination behind the bar created just enough light to throw beams into your glass. The ice cubes caught and increased the colors. It was a good thing it was all the entertainment you needed because you’d been sitting there a long time. 

“Can you please stop that? You’re making me dizzy.” Your companion grumpily slurred. 

He was bent over the counter, same as you, but his eyes darted to and fro, expertly and unsuspiciously. He turned his glass more gently, as if he were a connoisseur trying to decide how he felt about it. You didn’t understand how he could be so cool and act like he’d belong in any setting. You admired it. You wished you possessed the same amazing tactics but you didn’t. You were easier to read than a book. If it wasn’t for him, you'd have been spotted sooner than a sore thumb a long time ago. You’d been seen as you were, lost and far from home in a big and threatening galaxy full of scary beings. You were good with facts and figures. Data and books and computers. Dealing with people wasn’t really your forte.

Of course all that time in the field refined his talents but it was a talent nevertheless. In fact, if Crosshair hadn’t insisted on taking over at Safa Toma, you would have begged him to. 

You and Crosshair walked into the Safa Toma Speedway like you owned the place. The glare and saunter were natural to him, but for you, well, it was less so. Crosshair rolled his eyes. 

“Could you look any more phony? I asked you not to stand out. Your glare looks like you’re going to combust. Literally screaming “ask me, I have a secret”. Just relax and think about the time Wrecker spilled spaghetti sauce all over that white uniform of yours right before the decoration ceremony, and you had to wear that ridiculous looking jacket that didn’t match your pants in front of the entire assembly.” 

You scowled at the memory and your face heated producing a fine, red blush. You’d had to wear your oil stained brown pants from helping Tech upgrade the Marauder with a spare gray uniform jacket. They didn’t match in the slightest, but were the only things you had in the closet as your spare uniform was dry-cleaning after your latest mission. You were the only one out of the ten receiving metals to look that ridiculous. Wrecker apologized profusely and Tech assured you no one seemed to notice. Maybe he hadn’t, but others certainly did. You were completely and utterly humiliated. 

“Precisely, look annoyed and follow my lead. You’ll be fine. Try crossing your arms. Usually does something for me.” 

You huffed a laugh and the corners of your mouth turned up.

“Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Why? Can’t smiles be just as menacing?”

“Not yours. Yours are always too sweet.”

You had to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult or both. 

“Ooookaaaayyyy.”

“Am I detecting a high level of sass?”

You tried hard not to smile, but a chuckle came out anyway. 

“And they say I’m the difficult one.” Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Just don’t say anything. And try not to look like a lost puppy.”

You arrived at the apartment said to be Millegi’s, the sponsor for the racer named Venim, to test your theory about his association with ‘Cid’. Considering he responded with your cryptic message by saying he’d meet you. You were pretty sure you were correct. 

Upon entering the finley furnished apartment, you saw Millegi sat reclined on his sofa, a hint of malicious humor on his face. He cut right to business just as you suspected. 

“I hear you’re looking for Cid. What do you want with her?”

Crosshair put on his coldest face and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s say I have unfinished business with her, and I hear you know how to find her.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I know powerful people, and trust me, I’ll make sure you disappear so fast, you’d wish I’d gifted you with death.”

And that’s how you found yourselves sitting in Cid’s bar. Waiting. Forever. Waiting for the runaways to return home. The longer you waited the more you wished you hadn't come. You didn’t know if dreaming about this moment and wishing so hard it hurt was better than the actual waiting because right here, right now, reality was happening. In your dreams you’d run to Tech and he’d wrap his arms around you and everything would be happy and fine. You could control the outcome. Everything would turn out how you planned no matter the scenario.

This was the unknown. You didn’t know what would happen. And to top it off, what would happen, would be final. No more alternate scenarios. No more differing factors. You didn’t know if Tech would even be happy to see you. What if he didn’t even remember you?!? Despite Crosshair’s assurances and annoyance at something that should be obvious (which was honestly more comforting than the assurances) the familiar anxiety bubbled in your stomach and you felt the bile rise in your throat. Unconsciously, your knee started bouncing against the chair. 

“Hunter’ll hear that all the way from the space port.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“This isn’t exactly an easy moment for me, either.”

Your knee stopped bouncing and regret seeped into your bones. 

“I’m so sorry, Crosshair. I haven’t been considerate. I’ve been so focused on myself and my problems…” You sighed and looked down. “I’ve done so much wrong.” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying not to disturb the cloak too much. “I can’t even seem to do right by my friends. You deserved so much more consideration. Your step took more courage than mine; and I haven’t expressed enough how grateful I am that you came with me.”

“You’ve expressed it almost every day since we left.”

You shrugged. “I am grateful. I just want all of us together again, the way it should be. But this waiting is unbearable. Not knowing how they’ll accept us is the worst part. I mean, you’re they’re brother. You’re more likely to be wanted than me.”

“Don’t count on it after our last meeting. Not to mention what I’ve done since.”

“Crosshair—” You’d been over this so many times with him. Thinking of different ways to defend him but he was obstinate in his self-loathing.

“Save it.”

Crosshair glared but the ice melted when he saw the hurt in your eyes. He sent an apology look, not able to find the words he wanted to say, and not even knowing exactly what to say. But spending weeks with Crosshair on the run, you’d learn how to communicate with him this way. You felt you knew him on a whole new level and could talk without words. 

You wished you could still say the same about Tech. 

Then a noise caught your attention. The three patrons who’d been second-handedly annoying the both of you for the past few hours excitedly welcomed someone. 

“Well look who’s back!” the one you ascertained was Bolo, said. 

“Hey, when are we getting another dejarik game! It’s been pretty boring without you.” the one named Ketch added. 

The female pirate by the identity of ‘Phee’ spoke next. You’d been listening to her stories and they seemed too fantastical to be true, but they were entertaining to listen to while you waited. You thought Crosshair’s eyes would get stuck behind his skull with how often he rolled his eyes while she spoke, claiming he had better ‘real’ stories. But he must have enjoyed them enough because he kept listening and making off-handed comments.

“Well look who it is, if it isn’t my favorite group of clones.” 

You peaked in the direction to see the Bad Batch file in and try to scoot past the overly excited, ‘bored’ patrons. Probably to talk to Cid if they had just gotten done with a job. 

“Limping again, Brown eyes? You really ought to be more careful.” Phee put her hand on Tech’s shoulder and you almost lurched at the hint of softness in her voice. He had found someone after all. In the corner of your eye, you saw Crosshair give you a sympathetic look but you refused to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe this was a dumb idea.”

“No.” Crosshair said sternly. You looked up to meet his eyes and saw a kind earnestness in them. “No it wasn’t. No matter how this ends, what they say, we’re out of the Empire and that’s all that counts. I have you to thank for that.”

You smiled faintly. “We could always trek out on our own. I have the brains and you have…well everything else.”

Crosshair chuckled. “Let’s say we get this over with.”

You could only let out a breathy “Okay.”

You were aware of a hush that came over the boisterous group. 

“Who are those two?” You heard Hunter stage whisper. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know he’d crossed his arms and was staring at the two of you. 

“Dunno, they’ve been sitting there since before we came in. Long time.” Ketch said. 

“Hm.” 

You could bet they were sharing concerned looks among each other, trying to decide what to do. Your breathing quickened.

You heard Crosshair’s chair turn. “No one important. Just your brother and your friend.” 

Okay, Crosshair, maybe not the best intro. 

You stayed glued in place, not wanting to face them. 

“Crosshair?” You couldn’t tell which of the brothers said that. All the world started to turn before your eyes. The blood rushed to your ears and you completely missed the exchange happening between the torn Batch. The loud fuzziness overtook all that was happening around you. You were only focused on the void, empty feeling. 

Tech has someone.

“Glad you’re back, brother.” broke through the haze along with the clanking of armor. You could only guess that meant they embraced. 

They wanted Crosshair back. That’s good. Maybe I should just leave quietly…

Maybe you didn’t have a place with them anymore but you did return their prodigal brother to them and that was reward enough. 

Then you heard teary laughing and other clanky embraces. You heard an excited little girl squish her face into her brother’s chest or shoulder (depending on whether or not Crosshair knelt for her or not) and cry happily. 

This was your chance. You moved swiftly and silently like Crosshair had shown you over the last few weeks and made your way toward the back exit. The shadows of the backroom covered you and you took one last glance where the light poured in. You saw happy faces of a reunited family. Laughing and jesting and happy, relieved tears were poured out. Just the way they should be; you felt a smile growing on your face. Yes, all was well. 

You turned to leave with that last happy memory. 

You made your way out the back door and out the alley toward the front entrance and slowly started to make your way to a spaceport to book a passage with the fake ID you made. You had a few credits left. You could get by on them until you thought of what to do next. 

The day was ending and the world was alive. The day-timers were heading home from work and the night-shifters were getting up and going to their posts…or bars. Wherever they kept vigil. That wasn’t for you to know or care. The sun was setting and giving off the most beautiful orange…

You heard your name and you turned around surprised. You knew who the voice belonged to and a part of you wondered if you were dreaming. There would be no way Tech was actually chasing you, could there be? 

You saw him bobbing in the crowd, looking about frantically. You’ve never seen him so scattered. He called your name again, louder, more frantic. If you had half a brain left, you would have answered. But you were tired, numb, and heartbroken. Your feet hurt and you didn’t know if you could face him. Instead of leaving quietly or approaching him, you stood there with your mouth agape, watching as if this were a holofilm and you were not the main character on the screen. You couldn’t be the main character. You’d plain forgotten your lines. 

Your feet decided to move without your brain’s permission. You didn’t know if you were going to go toward Tech or turn away, and you never found out because in that moment, Tech spotted you and your eyes locked. He smiled a full smile and pushed through the moving masses toward you and was by your side in an instant.

“Mesh’la, you’re here! You’re here!” Tech excitedly said. There was a dancing fire in his eyes and a laugh on his lips. “I can’t believe my calculations, you’re here!” Before another moment passed, you were wrapped in a hug. His arms came around you and brought you close to his chest. He lowered his head so it was resting on yours, then stayed silent for so long it started to worry you. Tech was never silent.

“Tech.” Your voice cracked from how dry it was.

He parted and cupped your face.

“Mesh’la.” 

You felt your whole face on fire and you couldn’t look Tech in the eye. Your ears were pink to the tips. You knew what that word meant. He couldn’t possibly mean it. Did Crosshair put him up to this?

“What?” Tech looked taken aback and slightly hurt.

Woops, must have said that part out loud. 

You cleared your throat. “Did Crosshair…I mean…” tears filled your eyes and you sighed. You tried to look anywhere but him but his hand, though gentle, was firm and held your head in place. Besides, you were loath to lose the contact just yet. “Crosshair knew…so I was wondering if he sent you…told you to…”

“Crosshair knew what? Told me to?” He repeated.

You took in a deep breath and held it. You’d say it fast. 

“Crosshair knew that I loved you and was searching for you forever and when I saw you racing I knew I could find you and really wanted to find you so I decided to trust him to see if he wanted to come and we left the Empire together to find you. You’re a good racer, that was good racing.” You let out the rest of the air in a heavy sigh. One breath. 

Tech smiled. “You were searching for me?”

You tried to look at your shoes. “Yes.” Your voice was so small but that was all you had left. 

“You love me?”

“Yes!” That was a little more vehement and you rolled your eyes. You had a transport to catch. If he didn’t mind, you really had to get going. “It KILLED me when I thought you were dead. I didn’t know…”

He leaned in closer to your ear. 

“I love you too.”

You let out a sob and pressed your face into his chest. Your heart felt like it exploded and adrenaline rushed through your veins and you started to feel dizzy. Your muscles relaxed and the tired, achiness returned, reminding you you needed to rest. Tech felt the extra weight and shifted to support you. But your happiness was replaced with confusion.

“But…your girlfriend? How can you love me if you have a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Tech sounded so surprised you had to look him in the face. His eyebrow was up in a quizzical form. The one he always made when he was drawing a blank. You loved this expression because it was so rare, and he could never replicate it when he tried at your request. It was a look of complete honesty. You almost laughed at the hope your heart started to thud to. 

“Phee, the pirate woman…”

“She is most definitely not my girlfriend. Did she say she was? Or did you draw that conclusion from her rather flirtatious greeting?”

“Maybe I did have incomplete data.”

“Did you notice I did not address the flirtations?”

“No…my mind was too busy reeling.”

Tech smiled again, but this time mischievously. 

“What if I give you a better subject for you to meditate on?”

He leaned in and kissed you. Softly and perfectly. You broke it first.

“We’ll have to continue later.” You chuckled, “I can’t stop smiling.” You rested your head against his chest and heaved a relieved sigh.

“I agree, we shall have to continue this exercise later.”

You laughed and started back toward the bar. Tech limped after you and your smile turned upside down. You hadn't noticed before. He moved with such urgency and swiftness. It had to hurt.

“You’re limping.”

“Yes, I had a misfortunate accident on the last mission.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“No it’s not. Let me have a look.” You returned to his side and brought Tech’s arm around your neck so he could lean on you for support. “Where’s your ship? Do you have any ice for me to help bring down the swelling, or should I run back to Cid’s real quick to get the ice then bring you to the ship or…” 

You were cut off by Tech’s chuckle. “We have the necessary supplies on the ship. That way.” He nudged his head in the right direction, but his gaze remained on you. It sparkled with all the love and adoration you never thought you’d see aimed toward yourself from the goggled eyes. Your heart swelled and your lips radiated that happiness with the biggest smile you’ve ever made. You were where you were meant to be. You were home at last. 

Dividers by @djarrex and @ve-ti-ver

[beautifulsnake2162020]

We have it all (Hualian adopted daughter fanfic) Chapter 6

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I only do this for fun.

Premise: Not long after comforting a bullied girl named Meng Ai, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian find themselves adopting her and together they form a family they didn't know they had needed for awhile.

Story/Genre tags: Slice of life-ish (mainly), Family focused, Hua Cheng's houses finally become homes, there may be an overarching story but that's not the focus, Hualian being parents, Fengqing being uncles, Lang Qianqiu falling in love with someone who was raised by the Xianle squad, technically post-canon (though I haven't read the books so if there are some ooc moments please forgive me).

AO3 Link

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Follower tags: @anonimgato1507

AN: This might be my last chapter for awhile since my midterms will start at the end of September. But this isn't the last chapter of the story. Updates are just going to slow down for awhile (because I want to graduate already). Chapter 7 and 8 are already in the works. So I made this chapter extra long to make up for the more delayed updates.

Chapter 6

"Now you know all you need to know. Please, I don't care if I have become despicable in your eyes. Meng Ai doesn't deserve to live in fear as the consequence of my sins and the delusions of my family." He stands up to briefly relieve himself leaving them alone in the room to discuss.

"Hmm."

"What are you thinking?"

"With all things considered I would like to adopt her..."

"But?"

"But I wonder if Xiao-Ai will even like it?" Xie Lian couldn't hide his worries even if he wanted to.

"What if she thinks we are taking her away from her parents?" He sighs as he leans into his seat.

"Gege." Hua Cheng says gently with reassurance as he puts his hand on Xie Lian's.

"Do you want to adopt her?" Xie Lian now looking into Hua Cheng's eyes could feel his love no matter what choice he makes. He also knew that Hua Cheng already knows the answer. But hearing him tell him was also his way of making whatever his decision was become real.

"Yes, I do." Hua Cheng smiles as he now holds both hands both of Xie Lian's hands in his.

"But what if she doesn't want to be adopted by us?" Hua Cheng thinks a bit before finally speaking.

"The four of us will have to be honest with her. That way the transition from one set of parents to another won't be as difficult. At least she'll know from the start that we are doing this because we care about her." Xie Lian smiles.

"You too?" Hua Cheng lets out a small chuckle.

"She's a little hard to resist." Not long after they hear a commotion outside.

"Will she be safe here?" They hear Ji Huifan ask someone, the concern in his voice was evident.

"I've already summoned some of my best soldiers to come and be discreet while guarding Xiwangmu's temple." Mu Qing's voice reverberated throughout the halls of the temple. The couple shared a look. No words needed to be said with what they've just learnt.

If Mu Qing was here then that could only mean that Meng Ai was in danger and was targeted while she was staying in Puqi shrine. And so he brought her here to keep her safe. Feng Xin was probably still in Puqi dealing with what's left of the threat that remained. From the brief time they've had with Ji Huifan the "she" in question must either be Jing Mei or Meng Ai.

They later learn it was both.

By the time everyone assembled in the room they were in while soldiers from both Mu Qing and Feng Xin were discreetly guarding the temple, they already knew deep in their hearts that they were going to adopt her.

It was more of a question of how to make the transition easier for her.

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"Where's Fu Yao and Nan Feng?" Meng Ai asks as Jing Mei places her favorite breakfast congee on front of her. Her favorite part of it was of course the hard boiled tea eggs, there were three slices of egg halves today. That was generous of her mother Meng Ai thought since normally she would be lucky to get two.

"They are taking care of something that their Gods ordered them to do. Don't worry you'll be able to see them soon." Xie Lian says reassuredly as he takes his place beside Hua Cheng. While Jing Mei was a patient woman, teaching Xie Lian how to cook actually palatable food was not a one day affair. After almost setting the kitchen on fire she quickly ordered one of the chefs to let him out and told him that they'll try again some other time.

"Aiai, there's something your mother and I have to tell you." Hearing the seriousness of Ji Huifan Hua Cheng discreetly orders for all other servants except for Yin Yu to leave. Yin Yu was needed since he was in charge of Paradise Manor's security.

"What is it?" Jing Mei takes a seat across Meng Ai, not wanting to do this but at the same time understanding why Xie Lian and Hua Cheng wanted for her to know.

"Do you remember when we were still moving from place to place before we lived in Hu village?" Meng Ai nods.

"Was it because of bad people almost kidnapping me on the last village?" Jing Mei nods while in her periphery she could see Hua Cheng raise an eye brow and Xie Lian's look of concern.

"Yes, well those people are after you and your father and I are doing everything we can to protect you."

"I know mama." Jing Mei smiles sadly as she takes a breath before continuing.

"Do you remember why I don't tell you my visions?"

"Because if you tell the ones in your visions what you saw things might change so much."

"Yes...that's right." Meng Ai takes a guess to help ease Jing Mei's burden.

"Did you see a vision about me mama?" Jin Mei's eyes begin to water but forces herself to hold them back for now.

"Yes, a very horrible one. I saw it after I gave birth to you. So your father and I prayed to Xiwangmu what we could do to keep you safe and live a life to the fullest."

"What did Xiwangmu say?" She asks as she turns to her father.

"She said that as long as you have one parent who is alive and one who is dead, then you will be safe from those who have been chasing us and live a full life." Meng Ai's widen in shock.

"But I don't want either of you to die!"

"Aiai, we know." Ji Huifan says as he embraces her.

"Do you remember when a pretty woman with the suanpan that you liked visited us in the last village before Hu village?" Meng Ai nods and makes a guess.

"Is she Xiwangmu?"

"Not exactly. But she's related to her." Jing Mei says as she stands up from her seat and puts herself on front of Meng Ai.

"We've been praying to Xiwangmu to find another way to save you. And the pretty lady with the suanpan was sent by Xiwangmu to clarify that being a parent does not mean they have to be related to you by blood." This time Meng Ai's eyes widened in realization as she turned toward Hua Cheng and Xie Lian for the first time since the conversation began.

"Xiao-Ai." Xie Lian begins "It is okay if you cannot make a decision right now. This is a lot to take in-"

"Would staying with you and San Lang keep mama and baba alive?"

"I could send some assistance to protect your parents." Hua Cheng says in a reassuring and gentle tone.

"But it's uncertain?"

"Aiai, my darling nothing is absolutely certain." Jing Mei says as she looks at Meng Ai in the eyes.

"All we could do is do our best. This is what the four of us have talked about, all we are waiting for is your choice. Is it okay if Xie Lian and Hua Cheng become your parents too?" Everyone was silent as Meng Ai was slowly realizing what is going to happen.

"I don't want to lose you and baba." Ji Huifen embraces her as tears slowly begin pouring down her eyes.

"You will never lose us, a part of us will always be with you. You are not losing anyone, you are gaining two more people who will care and love you just as much as we do."

"We won't be leaving now. But we have to so that you will be given the life that you deserve and become the person that you want to be. What is it that you keep promising your baba and I every new year?"

Meng Ai struggles as her parents wipe the tears from her eyes.

"I won't ever give up on my dreams to become who I want to be. No matter what it takes."

"Are you going to start now?" Meng Ai stubbornly shakes her head.

"No mama."

"Good, making dreams come true is not easy. But it can be done. Always remember that Aiai." She nods as she hugs both Ji Huifan and Jing Mei. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian let them have their moment. No one knows when Ji Huifan will need to leave to finally put an end to his cursed family or when Xiwangmu will once again require Jing Mei to act as her oracle. It's better to let them savor each other's presence while they can.

Their sacrifice to give them Meng Ai as their daughter will not be in vain.

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"Are you sure that they've disappeared from and after Jingdezhen?" An intimidating figure asks as one of the mage mercenaries who was giving her a report.

"We cannot locate them anywhere after someone transported them to somewhere from within within the shrine to Jingdezhen. As expected they sought refuge in Xiwangmu's temple but they had divine assistance."

"I'm not surprised. My sister-in-law is one of her priestesses. I wouldn't put it above her to request aid from the other Gods." The female figure then throws a knife at the mage mercenary who was reporting. The blade being a little too close to his ear while still missing him completely.

Instead it latched itself on Feng Xin's armor.

Or it would have, had he not moved out of the way.

"What God are you?"

"What makes you think that?" She smiles as she throws another knife his way.

"You are absolutely right. You are not a God, you are a clone." Fuck! Feng Xin curses internally as he dodges attacks from all sides as he attempts to make his escape.

But his clone is overwhelmed and instead he ends up on his knees towards the woman who has been throwing knives at him. Now that he was close he could see her skin was pale with a grayish undertone. Her lips had dried up blood surrounding it.

"You know I've always been curious. I've never drunk directly from a God before. I wonder if a clone's blood will taste any different from other mortals?" It was only then that Feng Xin noticed that none of the mercenaries were close to them as the woman puts him on the ground as she begins to straddle him. She was a lot heavier than he had expected to feel. The pressure made by her sitting on top of his clone's ribcage was making breathing difficult.

"Get off me!" He tries pushing her off only for her to restrain his hands.

"Don't worry." Her fangs begin to make themselves more prominent.

"I'm skilled enough to make sure nobody feels pain. You might find yourself enjoying it." But before she could do anything she was blasted away from Feng Xin and outside of the tent they currently occupied.

"You idiot!" He knows immediately who his savior is and he couldn't help a smile from appearing on his face.

Mu Qing's clone manages to deflect then shield them from further attacks as they make their escape.

"Really!? This is how you do a reconnaissance mission?" Mu Qing immediately scolds him when they meet in private in heaven.

"I used a clone, I didn't expect anyone to detect anything from it. Normally nobody could even tell that our clones had anything divine in them."

"In case you forgot, these aren't normal people. These are cursed immortals who are only satisfied when they drink blood preferably from victims who are scared or in pain. Weren't you listening to Jing Mei?!"

"Mu Qing I'm fine now." He looks at Feng Xin unconvinced.

"Thanks to this experience at least now we know that they could even tell the difference between a clone and when it's actually us even though we would be in disguise." Mu Qing couldn't help but snort.

"I could have figured that out without having to get close to one of them." Feng Xin gets up to walk closer to where Mu Qing was standing. He sighs as he's finally on front of him.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. But I couldn't wait to investigate after Hua Cheng and Xie Lian brought them to Ghost City. My curiosity got the better of me." Mu Qing sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"If you want your curiosity satisfied then read a book."

"Not fast enough for me, and Lingwen and her officials were already busy."

"Then contact Chenxi, that's what I did." Now it was Feng Xin's turn to be exasperated.

"I've tried that she wasn't responding."

"Did you use the conventional channels?"

"Yes, why?" This time Mu Qing couldn't help but have a smug expression. A little bit of revenge over Feng Xin for making him worry.

"Like her mother she doesn't respond to conventional channels. She doesn't like being here as much as her parents, so like them she ignores messages from conventional channels. It's why she and her mother have oracles as their priests and priestesses. Oracles are receptive of messages from the otherworldly and serves as their informants. Since no one in heaven typically sends messages from other immortals through their priest or priestess this was how I was able to make contact with her."

"Fuck." Mu Qing now breaks out in laughter savoring being a few steps ahead of him. Serves him right for making him use a clone to save his.

"I was going to tell you that I've arranged for the two of us to meet her. She's willing to tell us all she knows. But nooo! You just had to do a poorly done intelligence mission in a campsite filled with mage mercenaries who could summon and control any creature. And don't get me started on how a cursed immortal almost-" He was stopped midrant as he felt Feng Xin's lips on his. Through the kiss he could feel the sincerity Feng Xin always had and that he truly was remorseful.

He knows what this is really about. And he now sees his mistake.

"How do I make it up to you?" Feng Xin asks in between kisses that he has begun reciprocating.

"If we are going to make this work you tell me your plans. You don't have to be detailed - I could figure out the rest on my own. Or is that instruction only for me?" He says as he breaks away from their kiss looking him straight in the eyes.

"No it wasn't. And you don't have to figure things out on your own. Not anymore."

"I could say the same for you." He couldn't resist anymore and brings Feng Xin closer for another more deeper kiss.

It's a good thing he found another cultivation path that was a sufficient replacement for his current one. While it was still early on in his new relationship with Feng Xin and they haven't gone that far, he had already begun taking steps in the alternative path of cultivation. There's no limit to how many paths of cultivation one could take. But if one became a God with a path of cultivation then for their powers to not be decreased too much another path of cultivation should immediately replace it. And he was nothing if not thorough.

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"Well?" Xie Lian asks nervously as Jing Mei tastes the simple broth that he has managed not to overcook. Even though Hua Cheng insists that he doesn't need to learn how to cook, he can't help but feel guilty at not being able to. So when he noticed Jing Mei's cooking was praised by Feng Xin and Mu Qing he asked her if she could teach him. And under the condition that Hua Cheng wouldn't interfere with her sometimes harsh instructions, even he has to admit that Xie Lian's cooking had improved under Jing Mei's tutelage.

"It's on the bland side, the vegetables you placed weren't able to release their full flavor since you placed them a little too late. But on the bright side you didn't burn the food and it is easier to add flavor through spices. Good Job Dianxie." He sighs in relief over his progress.

"Jing Mei, by any chance you could teach me how to make some of Xiao-Ai's favorite foods? It might ease the change of her moving in with us." Jing Mei couldn't help but snort a laugh.

"I'm afraid if you do that she'll grow up to have the sugar disease. It's already enough that I inherited it from my own mother. I hope that Aiai doesn't get it, but it is something to take note of. She has a sweet tooth which is why I'm strict with how much mooncakes she gets for her birthday. And it doesn't help that Ji Huifan likes to sneak Nan Gua Bings and Tanghulus behind my back whenever he returns from one of his missions."

"Oh? But I thought she liked congee?"

"She does, in a way that it's a necessary sustenance to avoid being hungry. It's for her health and it also teaches her that some things are sweeter when they are earned. It makes it that much more special." Jing Mei releases a sigh.

"At least that's what I hope would happen." Xie Lian offers an understanding look.

"I wonder if she'll even open herself up to me and San Lang after your talk with her. Sometimes I doubt if she'll be able to trust us after that."

"She will." Jing Mei says confidently as she looks at Xie Lian straight in his eyes.

"She may be a little closed off now, but if she really didn't like you she would simply ignore both of you and suffer in silence. The mere fact that she's not afraid to express herself to either you or Hua Cheng shows that she has already begun trusting both of you." Jing Mei then sprinkles some spices from the spice rack. A part of her is still in awe that Hua Cheng was not only able to have this many spices but also that he was able to preserve their freshness for far longer. But given that Hua Cheng was practically one of if not the most powerful ghosts and is the wealthiest she isn't surprised that rare spices occupied space in his kitchen. Back in Fu Dao spices that the traders called Saffron and Cardamom were so expensive only the elite could afford them. She was able to have an indulgence of them every now and then when she was lucky enough to recieve gifts of such.

And now Meng Ai would probably grow up indulged in it if they weren't careful. Or she would probably be bored with it and not understand why these spices were so coveted.

"She thinks Huifan and I don't know about how the children of Hu village were bullying her. But I noticed it right away when she didn't talk much to them and would actively do things in order to avoid them. In her mind she's thinking that they won't listen to her anyway and just want to make fun of her and make her day miserable. So why bother talking to them? We have tried speaking with their parents in private but they see us as outsiders to their community. One day out of the blue we arrived and began changing things in the village."

"Not everyone liked it." She nodded.

"The ones in power didn't, those that weren't were grateful for our services. But then again it's hard to please everyone." She then gets a bowl and pours out the broth that Xie Lian made that was made palatable with her choice of spices. She then places noodles that will be cooked just right from the broth's residual heat. Finally she then garnishes it with a quickly diced spring onion before serving it to Xie Lian.

"Stir it a bit but don't eat it yet." He looks at her puzzled.

"Why not?"

"A volunteer has arrived to help us. Hello Hua Cheng, please have a seat." Xie Lian relaxes as he feels himself embraced from behind.

"I hope you haven't been too hard on him while I'm gone." Jing Mei couldn't help but internally roll her eyes at Hua Cheng's underlying threat. Out of respect for Xie Lian she restrained herself from actually doing it.

"He has made a great improvement today. Please have a seat - there is something I would like you to do."

"Which is?"

"Feed the broth to Dianxie." Xie Lian couldn't help but blush as Hua Cheng begins to relax a little more.

"I appreciate that you've decided to include me in your culinary lessons."

"Actually there is a reason why I want you to do it. Dianxie will have his eyes closed and won't be able to feed himself." Xie Lian makes himself comfortable now understanding what Jing Mei is trying to do. She wants him to focus on the food.

"Ready Gege?" Xie Lian was about to say yes when Ruoye decided to turn itself into his blindfold to the amusement of both his husband and teacher.

"I wasn't going to peek Ruoye."

"Ruoye just wants to make sure you could focus."

"Okay San Lang, I'm ready." He opens his mouth as Hua Cheng feeds him a right amount of the noodles that he slurps up.

"Focus on the food Dianxie, what do your senses tell you?" With his tongue he could taste how the noodles were just right. Not too soggy nor stiff, but the way he chewed and the way the noodles had spread the broth he and Jing Mei had created was filled with flavor. He could now understand why Jing Mei had called his earlier attempt bland when the plenty subtle flavors complemented each other as he swallowed it.

"The subtle flavors are sublime, I could now appreciate why you added them to the broth."

"What else?"

"Um I will need another serving San Lang."

"Say ah." This time Xie Lian got more of the broth than the noodles. With more of the broth there was a suprising layer of sweetness that he did not expect from a broth. How the cabbage and string beans added an interesting texture to a simple meal. It made him reflect on the times when he was fortunate enough to recieve the best meals made by the best chefs of the land. He appreciated their efforts and savored their works. A part of him was jealous of how they could create works that was immediately beneficial since everyone had to eat.

Jing Mei was right in making him return to the basic senses of appreciating food without his sight.

______________________________________________________________

"Baba what type of spirits are Xie Lian, Nan Feng, and Fu Yao?" Meng Ai asks as she and Ji Huifan are on a tour lead by Yin Yu of the gardens. Yin Yu reccommended that they explore the gardens section by section. The gardens were too vast to be explored in a week, and even less by a few hours in a day. Today was their first day and the tour had just ended with Yin Yu needing to take his leave after being summoned by Hua Cheng. Ji Huifan, followed by Meng Ai decided to sit under one of the trees to avoid harming the flowers.

"Before I tell you the answer, tell me first what you have observed." Meng Ai reflects back on what she had felt and sensed with them. She remembers that they had a heart beat, that there was a lightness? No, she thinks to herself. That's not the right word. The best she could come up is that they didn't cling to their forms. But San Lang also didn't cling to his form but he had the tell tale clinginess that ghosts had. That's why when she first felt his presence she knew he was a ghost. But he was also the first ghost to actually talk to her and not just simply ignore her or scare her away.

"I don't know if this is the right word but compared to ghosts like San Lang, they don't really cling to themselves and they have a heartbeat. I wanted to say that there is a lightness to them but that's not quite it. Nan Feng and Fu Yao are soldiers and there is a bit of darkness that also comes with them. Which is why I don't think lightness is the right word."

"Mmhmm, what else have you observed Aiai?" She closes her eyes as she focuses even harder on what she could remember.

"They are powerful - but San Lang is also powerful but their powers feel very different. San Lang's power is more grounded? Or at least that's how I feel whenever I'm around him. But with Xie Lian, Nan Feng and Fu Yao their power comes from the air? The sky? Something from above or somewhere we cannot see." As she opens her eyes she sees him nodding in approval.

"And given all of these observations - what do you think they are Aiai?" She thinks back to a few days ago when she just learned that she will be staying with San Lang and Xie Lian and that they are going to be her new parents and keep her safe.

They were the best choice because San Lang was already dead since he was a ghost, and somehow Xie Lian was considered to still be alive.

And this was something shared with Nan Feng and Fu Yao - but what? Despite San Lang being a ghost he still felt very much alive in her opinion.

Before she could think further an attendant was sent to get them. It was time for dinner. Since one day her mama and baba would be going away she wanted to have dinner with all of them present. Even her new parents, San Lang and Xie Lian.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty since she didn't mean to act badly towards them. But they will have her for the rest of her life and she doesn't know when she will see her mama and baba again once they leave her here for good. San Lang promised that he would make sure they are protected as much as possible and she knows that her baba is working on stopping the scary people that keep following them around.

As they enter the manor something catches her eye.

She takes a quick glance at where her father was escorted by the attendant. The dining room was just straight ahead of where they were. She promises she'll just be quick. She just needs to know what was it that caught her eye.

So she moves closer to what appears to be a shrine.

It's similar to the one at Puqi but it was so vibrant. The mask the crown prince of Xianle appeared to be like the ones she would sometimes see rich people wearing. The sword in one hand looked so dangerous yet at the same time it was beautiful. Both in what it could do and on its own. And the flower on the other hand looked so much like the floating lotus flowers that Yin Yu had showed them earlier. She told him that this was her first time seeing them with her own eyes and she would only see pictures of them. And then her mother taught her how to make paper lotus flowers and whenever they visited a temple of Xiwangmu's or Chenxi's that had a river created for the temple, she would help her place their paper lotus flowers on the water and watch them float away.

"But what if it sinks?"

"Then it is no longer a paper lotus flower." She remembered getting upset.

"But what if I want it to still be a paper lotus flower?"

"Aiai." Her mother settles herself next to her.

"Why do you want it to remain a paper lotus flower?"

"Because you and I made it together. I don't want it to be ruined."

"Oh Aiai." Her mother brings her in her embrace.

"Do you still remember the time we made them?" She nods as she wonders why it seems her mother was sad and yet she was smiling.

"Those paper flowers won't erase the experience we had of making them. That will never go away. But the paper flowers don't need to be preserved just because those were good memories. What matters is the time we shared."

She was younger then, and she is only now starting to understand what her mother was trying to say. It's not the object that matters. It's the people.

"Do you like it?" She felt before she heard San Lang behind her. She was about to apologize for being late when she noticed his expression showing that he already knew and wasn't upset.

"It's so beautiful, I couldn't help but want to look at it." He goes beside her as they look at the portrait of the crown prince of Xianle together. It was only then that she realized that there was no food offerings.

"San Lang why are there no food for the crown prince of Xianle?" He couldn't help but make a small chuckle.

"Because Xiao-Ai, he couldn't appreciate them if they just stayed here."

"Huh? Why?" Hua Cheng heard that Ji Huifan was asking her to make a guess on what type of spirits Xie Lian and his two former attendants were. He could understand why he didn't simply want to give her the answer since she needed to learn how to think for herself.

And also arriving at the answer on your own was its own reward. A concept that is difficult to explain to a little girl. Which is why Ji Huifan only lays out clues but wants her to arrive on the answer by herself.

"Food deserves to be consumed, savored, and enjoyed. He already does that whenever and wherever he is."

"Even here?"

"Especially here." She glances at the painting that called to her. Hmm another mystery that will occupy her mind.

Speaking of mysteries, she realizes that there is another mystery that she hopes she could get the answer too.

"San Lang, may I ask you something?" He lowers himself so that his eye was at the same level as hers.

"Ask away little one."

"My parents say that you and Xie Lian are the key to keeping me safe. Because you are a ghost and are already dead and Xie Lian is still alive...I'm worried."

"About what?" He asks her gently and tenderly. Her heart already feels safe whenever he is around. But she wants to know so badly.

"Aren't you worried that one day Xie Lian would one day die? I'm already scared that mama or baba would die because of the people chasing us. What if because of me, Xie Lian dies? I don't want you to be lonely." San Lang gives her a reassuring and knowing smile. Something about the way his eye glistens is telling her that there is something she doesn't know. Something just out of her reach.

"That is the one thing I can guarantee will not happen. You don't need to worry about that little one."

"But how can you be so sure?" Her voice almost breaks asking.

"I am sure because I am still around. As long as I love him and never ever forget him he will never die." He then rises up as he offers her his hand. A red thread is attached to one of his fingers. She takes his hand and he escorts her back to the dining room. She watches as everyone was waiting for her.

"Don't worry - she was just looking at the shrine."

"Oh what do you think Xiao-Ai?"

"It was so beautiful and vibrant Xie Lian! It reminds me of the painting in Puqi Shrine." He chuckles as he glances at San Lang.

"Should I?"

"If you would like." He then turns to her with a grin.

"I'm not surprised why you find them so similar. San Lang made both of them." They turn to him in amazement as his stance was relaxed. As Xie Lian continues to explain how the shrine in the manor came to be, what really caught her eye was the absolute love and devotion San Lang had for Xie Lian.

If only she could find someone who would look at her the same way he would look at Xie Lian. Or the love she could still feel between her parents who after adjusting to a new environment have managed to make it feel like home was always with them wherever they went.

Later that night as she settles in her bed she wonders what Chenxi must have felt to have lost Hua Lijie to the arms of death before she could marry him.

Did he treat her as person with otherworldly powers? Or did he treat her how a follower worships a Goddess?

Her love preserved the peaches in a place where she didn't have that many followers compared to other places that made her one of their patron Gods. For Gods to survive in such a place they must at the very least be known if worship was not possible. Did he perhaps notice this and loved her so much that he became so devoted to her so she could continue to be with him in a place where she didn't have as much power?

She touches the silver butterfly that San Lang gave to her. It wasn't hard to see the love between him and Xie Lian. And even though she wasn't paying attention to every single word that was said, she could sense the gratitude and love from Xie Lian as well.

But why would he have that reaction when San Lang painted the crown prince?

"Had trouble sleeping?" Xie Lian asks her as she joins him in practicing calligraphy.

"A question refused to let me." She adjusts her grip to experiment if her calligraphy will improve.

"And what was it?"

"I was wondering how Chenxi feels when she lost someone who was so in love with her. I was wondering what their relationship was like to make her go against her parents to try to make him immortal only for him to die before they even got married. Mama says her love is what preserved and affected them. So when Hua Lijie's family scared, trapped, and abused her in a place when she wasn't worshipped or known as much her change of feelings is what lead them to have a cursed immortal life that was worse than death after eating them." She decided that her new grip must have had better results since her strokes were now clearer.

"Did Hua Lijie love her as a person? Or did he already love her as a Goddess? Though one with less power in the place where he lived. Did he in the course of their relationship decide to be a devoted follower so that she won't ever leave his home or his side?" Xie Lian simply smiles at her from his seat across her. He reaches out to correct her grip so that her wrist won't be strained from practicing. On his own hand was a red string also tied on a finger similar to San Lang's. Perhaps it was something married couples who were both men did. A part of her couldn't help but wonder how they managed to prevent those red strings from getting into their food.

"I may not know Chenxi's exact feelings to Hou Lijie but I do remember how I realized I was in love with San Lang." She became intrigued as she finds herself putting down her brush to listen attentively.

"It was gradual. I couldn't help but feel something in my heart towards him early on. I didn't know what it was exactly. All I could feel whenever I'm around him is that I wanted to be with him. If I could help it I don't want to burden him with anything. But he insisted anyway and no matter what I did, no matter what decision I made, he stayed." He lets out a small chuckle as he lets his hand rest.

"One time before we became a couple I set this place on fire." She feels her eyes widen.

"Huh? How?"

"I was trying to save someone and tried to prevent from some of my friends and San Lang from fighting. It didn't work so I maneuvered myself in a way that they won't hurt each other. E-ming sliced me instead and when we were leaving I set fire to the armoury to prevent further fights from breaking out."

"And then what happened?"

"I had thought that he would be upset with me because I burnt the old version of this place down. I also felt guilty because I only told him half-truths about why I was here the first time. When we met again, it turned out we both thought that we hurt each other so deeply that we expected hatred from the other."

"Wait - what was he apologizing for?"

"For getting carried away with the conflict that lead to E-ming injuring me." She heard a cooing sound from behind Xie Lian. E-ming's eye had once again opened and it felt teary eyed.

"It's okay E-ming, I know you didn't mean it. I've already forgiven both of you." He grabs the hilt and gives it a few pets.

"Would you like to give E-ming pets?"

"But my hands are messy. E-ming I don't want to make you dirty with ink." A sad whining sound comes out of E-ming as he places him back in their previous place.

"She has a point E-ming."

"I'll pet you after my calligraphy practice!" After E-ming lets out a happy yelp she returns her attention back to the story.

"San Lang didn't care about you burning this place?" Xie Lian nods.

"I was surprised too. I apologized to him first and then he apologized for things that he thought I would hate him for. What a pair we were even back then." He giggles as he resumes his calligraphy.

"He explained that those things could be easily built again. And after that and all the incidents after he says that no matter what choice I've made, what path I've taken, whether those were mistakes or not or whether it was acting as the worst version of myself...all of those things were simply states of myself. But I have always been myself, and it was this person that he loves and is devoted to." Xie Lian then notices the stick on the incense clock has finally burnt out. Practice was over.

"After he told that to me, it was then I knew that I loved him and was in love with him even before that. To have someone accept you for who you are no matter what happens...I never knew I would be one of the lucky ones to have met their mate. Or to even have a mate at all."

Later on she would see them looking at each other lovingly as they took a stroll on a part of the gardens she hasn't toured yet.

And then she realized something.

The reason why the paintings in both shrines seemed so similar was not only because San Lang made them. She couldn't explain how but something about both paintings made her feel devotion, belonging ...

... and love.

She felt love whenever she was within the presence of either painting. It's why she felt safe in Puqi shrine after she first met them. It's why after meeting them she wanted to visit Puqi shrine whenever she was trying to escape her bullies.

Because there was love...

...and that made it feel like home.

And now she has the answer.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this more lengthy chapter to make up for the more delayed updates. I wrote this while listening to Hong Jue (Red Supreme) and Wei Chen (In front of the red curtain) on a loop. I wanted to give Meng Ai a moment with each of her parents to hopefully show what each one gives her. And also I wanted to give Fengqing a romantic moment while at the same time also clarifying the power level of the vampire family (that's what I call them in my head).

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which Cullen has accidentally become invested in.

Supplemental material for Unwanted, from the perspective of Cullen. In this addendum, Cullen needs some help, and he isn't going to get it.

(Masterpost. Addendums. Words: 791. Rating: all audiences. Warning: Addendums may contain spoilers for Unwanted and are best read after finishing the story entirely.)

Chapters 48, Addendum

The War Council gathered, summoned by its Inquisitor. Advisors surrounded the war table, to plot the demise of the Venatori incursion at Adamant—should the Champion report it true.

“I have been gathering our troops,” Cullen informed them, “and I will survey their readiness once they have assembled. If the Wardens are truly lost, then they will march on your order, Inquisitor.”

“Good,” said the Inquisitor, “then that will be all.”

The Council dispersed, Inquisitor marching from the room. Leliana followed, her own business to get to, and Josephine attempted the same. Cullen stopped her.

“Josephine, I wondered if I might ask you a favour?” he said.

She prepared herself to hear it, politely inviting him to walk the corridor back to her parlour. “What may I assist you with, Commander?”

“It’s about… Arcanist Trevelyan,” he murmured. “Would you be able to, perhaps, arrange one of our walks, or—maybe something else? I don’t know. But if you could…”

Josephine stopped, and stared at him. “Now you want me to meddle in your personal affairs?”

“Only to ask her—”

“No, Cullen.” Josephine shoved open the door to her parlour, and marched to her desk. Cullen hurried after her. “I am not going to interfere with anyone’s romantic prospects again! Unless, of course, it poses some political advantage to the Inquisition—but, when it comes to my friends, I shall not matchmake.”

“Then… what am I supposed to do? How do I… ask?”

Josephine chuckled. “Really, Commander? Have you never asked someone to spend time with you before?”

“No—yes! Of course, I…”

“Meetings don’t count.”

Cullen sighed. “Well, it’s… it’s been a while,” he said, in strict competition for the understatement of the Age.

“Then allow me to refresh your memory,” said Josephine, with a perky smile. “All you need to do is go up to her, and ask. Simple as that!”

If only it were as simple as that. But Cullen’s palms became sweaty even just thinking of it. He was so skilled at making an absolute fool of himself in front of the Arcanist; he could hardly imagine he would resist the apparent temptation to do it again.

“What if she says no?”

Josephine shook her head. “Then you accept her answer, take it on the chin, and move on.”

The first part was perfectly fine. The second and third were easier said than done. Hard to carry on with his day when his heart was crushed into tiny little pieces.

“Perhaps... if you just do it this once—”

“No!”

“But I’m afraid I’ll do something wrong and ruin it all again.”

Josephine gasped. “Oh, in that case? Still no.” Though biting in her tone, she saw him shrink, and softened. “Cullen, she agreed to walk with you when she despised you. I can think of no reason now, when she holds you in greater regard, that she would not answer in the affirmative.”

Cullen wrung his hands. “She has no reason to pretend to like me any more.”

“Indeed,” said Josephine, tapping a sheaf of documents into a neat pile. “So given that she has not yet set you on fire, I think we can assume she is done pretending.”

Fair point. Especially as she now possessed the arms to do so rather efficiently.

“What time do you think best to ask?”

“Honestly? Right this moment,” Josephine suggested. “She will have been working all morning, and may be glad of the break.”

“All right,” Cullen said. “All right.”

Josephine smiled. “There. Not so hard, is it? Good luck, Cullen.”

Taking her advice, he absconded almost immediately to the Undercroft, hurrying so that his mind had not the time to convince itself how bad an idea this was. He almost stumbled down the stairs—but best to get that sort of thing out now, before he saw the Arcanist.

He emerged into the cavern, that mess of forges and machines. People buzzed about, an absolute distraction to the eyes of he who searched for a particular individual.

Though, somewhat fortunately, Cullen was at least gifted with the curse of being utterly mesmerised by the beauty and vivacity of Arcanist Trevelyan. It was through this afflicition that he saw her, eyes ever-bound to seek her out. She sat at her a workbench near the cavern’s maw, documents and materials littered across it. Herzt hovered at her side, taking instruction and aiding her research.

Cullen did not wish to disrupt them. He was fortunate, then, that Herzt happened to look in his direction. With the meeting of eyes, he seemed to understand, and promptly came to where Cullen stood, tucked by the entrance.

“Commander,” he said, “may I help you?”

“Yes,” Cullen replied. “May I speak to the Arcanist?”

[safyresky]

You read that meme right, folks!

I made the mistake of rereading Meet The Frosts the other day, realized HOW OUT OF DATE THE PROLOGUE LORE WAS, and promptly rewrote it.

You can check THAT out on ao3 HERE

(NOT on ff dot net yet bc ya girl hasn't edited it to match lol)

OR below the cut, IN FULL! THAT'S RIGHT! I'M POSTING IT HERE, IN FULL!!! FOR EASY, QUICK REF.

ENJOY!

🌹👑✨🌺

It wasn't every day Mother Nature felt stressed beyond belief.

Sure, what she did was stressful. She was, after all, the matriarch of all nature, and keeping the balance of all of nature wasn't the easiest thing to do. That in itself was a lot more complex than it sounded.

Thankfully, she didn't have to do it all by herself! She had help: her four lovely daughters, the Season Sisters.

They managed themselves quite well, inter-seasonal squabbles aside. They were the seasons, after all. Their help meant the world to Mother Nature; they meant the world to her. And they loved what they did, which made Mother Nature's own workload a lot easier (and a lot of fun, to boot).

She still chipped in, of course. After all, she was Mother Nature. She loved field work!

Unfortunately for her, there were other balance-related issues she took care of as well. And with the seasons taking care of themselves, this left her with a lot more time to take care of the multitude of said issues that arose throughout the world. Issues which seemed to be growing exponentially as the years passed by.

She did what she could, of course (though a lot of the work was long term and not as instantaneous as she'd like). She'd set things in motion, monitor them, and intervene when she could, and hope for the best as she worked what she often jokingly referred to as her second job: advisor to the entirety of the magical land of Crystal Springs.

Hidden away from the prying eyes of mortals and those who would mean harm to the magical beings that inhabited it, Crystal Springs was a bastion to all magical folk from all wakes of life. Named for the healing springs at the centre of the continent, it was located out in the Arctic Sea, just west-ish of the North Pole. A good majority of your average magical folk chose to make their home there, Mother Nature included. Here they lived peacefully, hidden from mortals and looked over by Mother Nature herself.

There was a governing body, of course; made up of five governors and eight lieutenants. And they looked after their designated locales well enough. But upon their founding they'd given Mother Nature a seat on what they called the Assembly, and more often than not turned to her for reassurance, final decisions, and so on and so forth. She had power of veto and the power to appoint the governors themselves. Being omnipotent did that to a gal, she supposed. And given the duty passed on to her by her predecessor, who was given her duty by the Goddess herself, well.

Mother Nature considered all of the magibeans her people, and made sure to look after them all, on top of all her other responsibilities.

And she did it damn well.

She had a system; she had balance. Nothing was ever out of place and when it was, she and the Seasons made sure to right them as swiftly as possible.

What nobody had expected when Mother Nature's system came into being was the mischief one Jack Frost tended to cause.

A lot more frequently than anyone would expect.

Mother Nature shook her head as she left the warmth of the North Pole's kitchen. She wondered if the Council as a whole had done the right thing after Jack's latest schemes. Him staying at the North Pole for community service was definitely concerning. He was…incredibly jealous of Santa, and that was putting it mildly.

But since it was Santa that Jack had tried to upstage two-hundred and seventy three times, it was Santa's final decision, whatever action the Council chose to take against Council Member Jack Frost.

And he had chosen community service of all things.

And they had agreed to it!

And NOW she had to put all of her regular duties aside to gather two-hundred and seventy cardboard cutouts, unfreeze a volcano, send geese back to Mexico (after she warmed it up a bit first, of course), AND deal with a SNOWSTORM in the AMAZON of all places. All while her worry about Jack's sentence sizzled on the back burner!

Needless to say, it was fairly easy for her to understand how Santa was feeling this year.

"Seems you have your work cut out for you today, Mother Nature."

"Tell me about it. A tropical snowstorm! Who on Earth would ever imagine a tropical snowstorm?!"

"Evidently, Jack." Father Time cocked his head. "He's always been quite the imaginative one."

Mother Nature tried to smile. But she found it very hard to do so when the weight of the entire mess she had to clean up hit her.

Her face twitched. She didn't know where, exactly, but there was a twitch. She could feel it.

"A wise woman once told me that even Legendary Figures need to ask for help once and a while," Father Time said, tapping the side of his nose. "Perhaps now is a good time for her to take her own advice?"

"Oh, she is already thinking that exact thing. Some help would most definitely be in order."

She could ask Summer to give her a hand warming things up. Spring could talk to the geese, and Winter could move the snowstorm…of course, considering whose fault this entire mess was, perhaps it was better if she left the two warmer seasons out of this mess. Or maybe kept the coldest season in the dark? Autumn could take care of the frosty problems and Mother Nature could move the snowstorm herself...

No, no. Spring would tell her eventually if she didn't find out on her own. Or already knew, even. 

Mother Nature sighed as she realized her only option.

"I'll have to go visit the Frosts."

Father Time smiled. "I assume Winter is in a talkative mood. Your visit will be about two hours and forty-four minutes. Would you like the seconds?"

"Oh, no need. I know you're always on the ball, Father Time."

The old man chuckled. "All the luck," he said with a wink, eyes twinkling as he faded into the folds of time, vanishing on the spot as silently as he had appeared by her side moments before.

"Thanks. I'm going to need it."

It wasn't long after that that she reached the outside of the Workshop. Glancing around to make sure there weren't too many elves in her area of effect, she disappeared in a flash of bright light. The snowy grounds and cheery far-off elves faded away, the tiny, colourful buildings blurring together and shifting into a gorgeous, low lit forest.

The trees around her were dense. Sunlight streamed through the branches, the ground dappled with little pinpricks of light. The trees in front of her shrouded a glowing lilac portal, the light from it casting them in a purple glow. 

The entrance to the large physics-defying garden she called home in Crystal Springs.

She needed a moment.

Rubbing her temples, she stepped through the portal and into a sunny clearing. Several stone paths spiralled out around her, foliage of all sorts bordering each one. Folding her hands gently in front of her, she surveyed the paths.

Between the work to be done and what had been done and the past that was threatening to have her dwelling for the next hour, she could feel a tension headache fast approaching.

A walk around the garden was just what she needed.

A moment to ground herself; to get her thoughts in order, let the dwelling happen (if it must), and prepare her before she brought Jack's mother, and perhaps the rest of the family as well, into the mess he had made.

🌹👑✨🌺

Mother Nature was not a procrastinator.

It wasn't in her nature. And it wasn't that she didn't enjoy seeing Winter and her family; quite the contrary. Visiting Frost Manor was always a delight.

It wasn't the Frosts themselves that caused Mother Nature to go for a stroll in her numerous gardens. Or nearly follow the stroll with a thoughtful soak in the river that ran through her garden. That wasn't the reason she was putting off her visit.

It was the dwelling.

It had started.

And Mother Nature found herself going down the age old rabbit hole she found herself constantly going down every time she went to go visit Winter to talk about whatever it was Jack had done this time.

Sighing, she turned away from the sparkling river and headed to her greenhouse kitchen, deep in thought.

The greenhouse was large and spacious. Sunlight streamed through the windows, plants growing amongst her counters and cabinets. Spanish moss hung from the cold box, the warmth hugging her as she put on a cup of tea. She wandered outside with her cup, sitting down at her favourite bistro table on the patio alongside the greenhouse.

She loved visiting Winter. She loved seeing the life she had built for herself. She loved visiting her grandkids, and loved seeing her son-in-law outside of the workplace. It was always a treat. The Frosts were a vibrant, eccentric bunch, always on the go with something or other and more than happy to chat at length about it—the youngest two, especially.

And she hated hated hated having to visit to deliver bad news. It always made her think of the messy history that led to the season’s estrangement with her eldest child and how it just wasn’t fair. Everything that had happened wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t even her fault!

But Fate was rarely fair.

And unlike the other Fates, their Fate loved to intervene.

See, Mother Nature’s dwelling usually went like so:

She would think about how awful it was that she had to deliver this type of news to the Frosts. Then she would think about the day Jack had left. The events leading up to it. And somehow she’d find herself drifting even farther back, thinking of the events that had led to Winter and Blaise finally being free to settle down and start a family together.

She’d think of the War of Succession. The Call. The Fae War. She’d find herself going so far as to think of a time before even herself! Way back when Mother Gaia roamed the Earth, well before she had created Mother Nature!

It was said that way back then, millennia ago, there was a time when magic roamed wild throughout the world. The era of Wild Magic. Ancient history to the magibeans.

And it was where Mother Nature’s dwelling often began.

It had been peaceful, the Wild Magic Era. Until the ordinary beings (non-magical folk) started taking advantage of the magical folk. Coveting the magic they used. Trying to steal it, wield it, deal it, even. It got violent. Magibeans were getting hurt. Killed.

Until Gaia stepped in.

She had been sent by the mythical creator of the mythical beings: the Goddess herself. The Goddess had a place for them, Gaia said. A place where they’d be safe from the magic hunters, free to live; to thrive. And she intended to bring everyone to the Springs.

A large undertaking, for sure. But to her surprise, she had help.

Two bright young summer sprites, one a master of his season, the other a brilliant warlock, both well known to magibeings and ordibeings alike, had already begun gathering their fellow magibeans and bringing them to safety throughout the world.

When Gaia reached the magibeans with news of the Springs, the two of them had stepped up to bat before the bat was even invented and took charge. They helped lead hundreds of magibeans to Crystal Springs, under Gaia’s watchful eye and careful guidance. And thanks to their efforts, everyone was brought safely and securely to the Springs, magibeans completely non-existent now in the outer world.

They established their settlements. The bright young summer sprites, Canicus and Serafina, continued leading, helping everyone settle where best suited, and giving those that had helped them help everyone small groups of their own to look after, establishing various hamlets, towns, and outposts throughout the new lands. So when the time came to figure out who would lead them all as a unit (Gaia had declined the position herself before it was even brought up), it was a no brainer: Canicus and Serafina would be ideal. They’d already been doing it for a good few decades, right? May as well make it official.

The pair of sprites themselves quite agreed. So much so that they married, securing their position with one another and choosing a name for themselves as one: Frost.

And so, King and Queen Frost began their official rule over Crystal Springs. A rule that did not let up for thousands upon thousands of years. The people looked to them, and they took care of the people. They kept everyone safe, by any means necessary, and Gaia was more than happy (and quite relieved) to slow down and live her life.

She’d created a protégé, you see: Tara, a sprite like herself who, thousands of years later sat in their Garden, sipping tea, thinking all the way back to those very beginnings and how Mother Gaia had laughed at the irony of the name choice.

It suits them, though, she had told a very young Mother Nature. It’s versatile, you know. Frost is beautiful…but it’s cold. And it can be deadly.

She said many funny little things. Wise things, too. Gaia had taught Tara everything she knew and once the sprite had achieved mastery of all nature, it was time for the second part of her education: diplomacy.

Why, it was on the occasion of her first official test that Gaia had turned to her and said, it’s best we don’t dawdle, Tara dear. Procrastination isn’t in our nature, you know.

And yet here she sat, doing just that.

But on that day, they’d been summoned urgently by the monarchs because something had happened. Something severe enough to warrant an out of breath messenger to tumble through the garden and topple in front of the stone dining table, catching their breath and holding a note out to the pair of them in the middle of their dinner.

The Queen, expecting, had delivered twins.

That had been a surprise for them all.

Queen Serafina was a brilliant warlock. She was well versed in all the magical ways: new, old, lost. She could go toe to toe with the best of the best—witches, wizards, sorcerers, and fellow warlocks alike would know nothing compared to the wealth of knowledge she possessed. She was put together, and strong, and regal, and everything a queen ought to be, or so everyone said.

But when Gaia and Tara arrived that night, she was distraught. She was angry. She was a mess (childbirth and all). Canicus didn’t even get to finish his greeting when Serafina looked up at them and told them with the utmost certainty and conviction and an undercurrent of fury that she knew exactly what had happened to make her boys be just that. Her boys, plural.

Upon her marriage to Canicus, Serafina had happily left behind a jilted paramour: Fate himself.

He had been young, at the time. The youngest of all the Fates. And when Serafina had spurned him, he watched and waited and planned the perfect revenge: split the heir apparent into the heirs apparent, amongst much confusion so as to ensure that the heir apparent wouldn’t be apparent at all.

Unfortunately for Fate, King Canicus was just as bright as his Queen.

Upon seeing two boys amongst the confused medical staff he’d immediately sent for Mother Gaia, who had brought Tara along as well.

Her first official task: help the King and Queen figure out which Prince would be next in line.

No pressure for a first challenge, right?

Mother Nature took a sip of her tea, taking a moment to cradle the hot cup close to her face, letting the steam waft, tickling her pores. Just ride it out, Tara, she thought to herself. Get through the past and back to the present and then we can figure everything out.

The twins were passed over to Tara and Gaia. Sure enough, they were similar in almost every single way.

Almost.

What Tara and Gaia both picked up on after a few careful moments of scrutinization was the hair: one boy had slightly darker hair than the other one.

Relieved, the Queen named the dark-haired boy Pyros and the light-haired boy Blaise and immediately began to discuss with Canicus what would be done in terms of succession, requesting the Matriarchs of Nature stay put for the proceedings. Tara had stood dutifully beside Gaia, watching as the medical staff cleaned Serafina up, the woman nursing her boys with ease while talking business with her partner.

(It had honestly been a little impressive. The woman had just given birth to TWO babies and was already right back at her royal duties).

Many ideas were floated back and forth. Some tame, some intense. Finally, the King and Queen turned to the Matriarchs and looked at them expectantly. Well? Serafina had demanded. What do you make of it all?

And Tara had no idea why she said what she said. She didn’t think; she simply opened her mouth and the words came out, unbidden, Gaia lighting up.

Let nature take its course.

That’s my girl, Gaia had said in her head as Canicus straightened and said The bloody hell do you mean by THAT!?

Let nature take its course, she had repeated. Raise them alongside one another; don’t pick one over the other just yet. Let them grow. See who they become. One will want to rule, and the other won’t. Watch them grow and learn and become the people they were meant to be and let their nature guide you.

The King and Queen had shared a look. Canicus raised an eyebrow; Serafina nodded.

Very well.

As you wish.

And so nothing silly happened. The boys grew up together as the Twin Princes, getting along just fine and seemingly both eager to learn and grow. And as they grew and learnt and became the people they were, it was apparent that what Tara had said was just about right.

Blaise, the light haired twin, didn’t seem keen on taking the crown. And Pyros, the dark-haired twin, did. And that was all fine and good except for one tiny itty bitty problem.

See, Blaise had all the makings of a ruler. Charismatic, caring, thoughtful, if a little bit troublesome at times. Pyros, meanwhile, was the exact opposite. Thoughtful of himself and those closest to him only; keen on power, seeing how far he could go, and eschewing any and all possibilities of interacting with their people, preferring to do his duties as independently as possible. Charismatic as well, but more often than not using it for his own gain amongst fellow castors and those he took a fancy too.

So although the nature of what they wanted differed from their personal nature, Mother Nature had been right. The boys came of age, and the time came for the decision to be made.

And the King and Queen did no such thing.

They put it off, and off, and off. They tried all sorts of things to test the pair of them, seeing who would be the best fit, and never agreeing on which boy it would be. One day Serafina would say Pyros; Canicus would say Blaise. The next, Canicus would say Pyros, and Serafina would say Blaise. On and on it went, the two boys never doing well enough in both the eyes of the King and Queen. The desires of the monarchs to keep the power blinded them to any obvious solutions.

Time passed. The thirst both boys had, one for freedom, and one for power grew and grew until finally, enough was enough. It was time someone put their foot down and made a decision.

And that's just what Pyros did.

He wanted the crown. Demanded it, even. Felt he was more deserving with all the time he’d devoted to learning everything there was to learn about power. He hadn’t quit his studies. Blaise had. Who was more deserving than he, Pyros? Obviously, he was meant to rule; not Blaise, the quitter, the twin that (suddenly in his eyes) should not have been. His conquest began that first night, when he sieged and seized the castle. The King and Queen disappeared to Rosehaven; whether or not they had done it themselves, or Pyros had made them, nobody knew. Not even Blaise, who somehow managed to escape mostly unscathed with as many as the castle staff and tenants as he could that hadn’t been swayed by the likes of Pyros.

And so the War of Succession began.

The trigger moment, if you will, and in her dwelling Mother Nature most certainly would. It was very much where it all began.

Forces were amassed; fortifications made, Blaise directing armies to keep the people safe while he tried desperately to reason with the brother he was oh-so-fond of.

But it didn’t work. Nothing did. Blaise was forced to fight as Pyros made moves to take the entire continent by force, refusing peace talks of any sort, and so he did what he needed to do. The fighting raged on, Blaise gaining ground until Pyros decided to outsource, if you will, culminating in them once again being revealed to the world.

Mortals joined the ranks of Pyros’s armies, wanting power, a taste of magic for themselves. And Pyros promised them that. So his armies grew, and people—both magibeans and ordibeings alike—were taken prisoner.

But magihumans didn’t like that very much, and they joined Blaise’s ranks, and everything came to a stalemate until Pyros did the unthinkable in a last ditch effort to turn the tides fully his way and win.

He took prisoners. Prisoners near and dear to those who opposed him.

Including Mother Nature’s very own children.

She had been furious.

She still was. Just thinking about it made her tea boil all over again! Refreshing her cup with a huff, she took a moment to ground herself. To feel angry about it all once again. To remember how she’d enlisted the help of the Grand Witches, the Head Warlock, the Sorcerers—every high ranking castor who was willing to help.

But Pyros was powerful enough to rival the Head Castors just by himself.

Each time they infiltrated, they were able to grab one season. Each time they came back, it got harder and harder to extract them.

Finally, when they went back the fourth time, they were defeated. Though Mother Nature had saved Spring, Summer, and Autumn, Winter was trapped.

Her sisters were beside themselves. They explained how every time Mother Nature and her forces had arrived, Winter made them go before her. And when the Head Castors finally had a gameplan, they learnt it would take days for them to overcome the magics in place and rescue Winter (and hopefully the other hostages, as well).

And that’s when Blaise had arrived in the Garden.

She felt the anger ebb away, finally leaving her. Taking a steadying breath, she sat back down, holding the warm cup tightly in her hands, watching as her reflection in the tea smiled softly.

Blaise had come to them with a plan.

He had infiltrated his brother's fortress, and had been planting his own men inside of the stronghold for the longest time now. He would be able to bring Winter back easily, no magic necessary.

And he had.

All her Seasons home with her, Mother Nature was able to fully give Blaise her attention and support. And it was a good thing, too, because Blaise had a secret weapon: The Kringle Elves.

All the elves had kept to themselves right up until the Seasons were kidnapped. That's when they had had enough. Wanting to rule was one thing, but wanting to upset the balance and rule over nature itself? To stop the seasons from doing their thing? That’s where they had drawn the line. They’d made an alliance amongst themselves, sending their forces out into the world to keep balance as best as they can while the Kringle Elves stayed put. They reached out to Blaise. An alliance was made, and the united forces put together plans for a large attack. It was ready to go. All they needed was the support of the castors, Mother Nature, and her Seasons.

All of which who readily agreed.

The final piece in place, they were ready. Blaise worked with the leader of the Kringles to figure out the best approach for the final attack, and Winter had come up with the perfect idea to put a stop to Pyros once and for all.

They both had, actually! Accidentally. During a botched escape.

Of course, Mother Nature had thought, as the pair of them looked up at her, war torn and jaded and yet, still sheepish and so very, very young.

But it would work! They assured. The botched escape had paid off.

Then let's put an end to this nonsense, Mother Nature had said.

With Blaise's forces on the inside and outside of Pyros' base, they took the victory easily. With help from the Seasons, Pyros was cornered; Winter herself froze him in his tracks and Blaise solidified it, the Mad Prince sealed away and peace once again coming to the land.

Crystal Springs was cloaked once more. Ordibeings were fixed up and sent home. Magihumans were integrated and welcomed to the Springs. Pyros was sealed away by a group of the finest castors in all the lands, and the issue of succession was finally put to rest.

The crown would go to Blaise.

Blaise took it graciously and decided that his first and only act as King would be to abolish the monarchy, full stop.

And so he did. And with Mother Nature’s help, plans were put into motion to free the magibeans. They could come and go as they please; they would always be welcome back at home, but not forced to stay there for their own safety. Every single royal law would be read through and adjusted, fixed, or withdrawn as needed. New lines were drawn and each area was given a leading body of their own, with a governor to oversee everything and bring it back to the rest of what became known as the Assembly.

Work started almost right after the final battle. In a year, a plan had been made for the next hundred years, after which they’d refresh the Assembly and keep on keeping on.

But at home, it took all of them a lot longer to recover.

After the battle, Winter had not been herself. It took Mother Nature a few days before it clicked. The experience of the War and becoming a prisoner had done a number to the sprite. She had frozen her heart. She was still pleasant as always, kind and caring…but in an aloof, sad kind of way. She would not open her heart to anyone.

Except for Blaise.

She had thawed his heart; and in turn, he worked to thaw hers.

They were smitten with one another. Always had been. They made one another happy, and though it came up as she dwelled, Mother Nature would never say that this part of the story wasn’t fair. It was perhaps the fairest part of all. Both Blaise and Winter had been through so much, they deserved to find love with one another and be with one another and that’s exactly what happened. The night Blaise proposed, Winter thawed for the second time in her life, and they got married that very evening. Mother Nature had officiated! And it wasn’t very long after that that they had their first child: Jack.

And that's when everything went downhill.

🌹👑✨🌺

Well, not exactly.

Mother Nature rubbed her temples, refreshing her tea for the umpteenth time.

Her stomach was in knots. The dwelling persisted. Rain pounded on the glass of the greenhouse, thunder rolling somewhere in the garden. The plants swayed in the wind, the trees around her bending and creaking as she grabbed a cookie from the half-empty plate on the counter (a handwritten note on the plate reading xoxo Autumn and stained with grease). The snickerdoodle was still soft in the middle, fresh as they had been when they were made yesterday.

You would think, that after EVERYTHING they had been through, Blaise and Winter would’ve been able to just live their happily ever after with their brand new addition. You’d THINK. But NO. Of COURSE not. It should BE so easy.

When he had finally passed through babyhood and managed to stabilize his little form, Jack was a very bright child. He was very quick to learn and eager to expand his horizons.

But there was something…off.

It had been there since the moment he was born, and it didn’t take Mother Nature long to realize just what it was. Like his mother before him, Jack was frozen. Born as such, it seemed.

But that’s not usually how that happened. Ever.

Sprites weren’t born OR formed with hardened hearts. It was something they actively chose to do as they came into being. The reasons varied from sprite to sprite, of course. But one thing was certain: when sprites were born they were as uninhibited as the elements that powered them and that they, in turn, wielded.

Except for Jack.

He had honest to Goddess been born as frozen as could be, and to a far greater extent than Mother Nature had ever seen.

Nothing was ever enough for him. He always wanted more, and more, and more, and that more never seemed to have a limit. A goal. A stop. And end. It was constant avarice, all the time, and it was exhausting.

He was studious; learned as much as he could. So much so that when he had mastered his season, it was said that he’d broken right into the afterlife to continue to learn from the long gone magibeans residing there. As he grew into his thousands, a consistent streak of trouble was never far behind him. It seemed he was simply incapable of not causing trouble wherever he went, always trying to do more, be more, and having it immediately backfire on him. Disagreements became more and more frequent between him and his parents; between them as well, Mother Nature noted on occasion.

Sighing, she leaned on the counter, watching the rain through the windows of the greenhouse kitchen. It was like there was some kind of unbeknownst evil driving him. A strong word to use, but apt. He’d shift the scales of balance quite frequently misusing his seasonal prowess, usually on purpose. He established himself throughout the continent, then throughout the world, earning himself a mythic status and a seat on the Council of Legendary Figures.

But it still wasn’t enough.

And then shortly after he got his seat, a new guy came to town: Santa Claus.

Jack had only been in his seat for a few centuries when Kris Kringle made his deal with Saint Nicholas, and the role of Santa Claus was created to spread wonder throughout the world. It was enough to give him a seat on the Council, too, and Jack Did Not Like That and made it known. Outspoken at meetings. Trouble increasing tenfold. He seemed to be getting worse and worse, and it wasn’t until Blaise and Winter had a second child that Jack's misbehaviour came to a rolling stop.

He had just reached his two-thousands. He had the world at his feet, a Legendary Title, renown in the outside world, and did not expect to have a sibling, ever, at all.

But a sibling he got. A cute little baby sister who looked as wintry as him. She, too, was a winter sprite, much to Winter’s delight (Blaise’s too—he’d had a grand old century making the same terrible jokes about being the only summer sprite in the family so far, but was pleased as punch anyway). A fan of matching sets, Winter named her Jacqueline (Jack having a grand old century making the same well obviously you named her after moi jokes), and once she was done with babyhood and had stabilized her little form, she was never very far from her older brother.

She had been a delightful little child, and the pair were practically attached at the hip. As the years went by, somehow he’d managed to be put in charge of her spritely education. Surprisingly enough, he took to it with ease, teaching her everything he knew and then some.

In fact, Mother Nature was quite convinced that had it not been for what happened with the darkness, Jack and Jacqueline would’ve continued on this way and his frosty heart would, perhaps, have thawed eventually. How could it not with such a relentless force of joy constantly at his side? That would’ve been fair and well deserved. Jack deserved to feel the full effects of his hard work, instead of constantly wanting more. Jacqueline would’ve gotten all of the older brother she so adored.

But of course, that’s not what happened.

The rain slowed to a gentle pitter patter. It thickened; it floated softly to the ground now, shifting into snow.

The…incident with the darkness had the Council create the role of Legate within their ranks. Someone to take over their titles and continue to protect the magic each one of them was in charge of should something happen to the original. It only made sense that when this Legate Law was passed, Jack picked his then four-hundred-year-old sister to take his title should something happen to him.

Every single one of them had a Legate, with the exception of Santa. The pact between Kris and Nicholas meant that Santa’s role already had a successor ensured, excluding him from the Legate proceedings.

This only served to remind Jack of all the things he’d disliked about Santa before his sister was born. It didn't matter that Jack had a season to himself, or that he was one of the most powerful Legendaries on the Council.

It wasn't enough.

That Santa Claus had chosen Jack's season, Jack's time to shine, for his holiday and had all but erased the reputation Jack had once known. Now when it snowed, it was Santa who everyone thought of first, Christmas over winter…and Jack never liked that. He liked it even less now, knowing that he was once again getting special treatment for being Santa Claus.

His little streak of trouble came back, and now, he had a target: Santa.

Outside, the snow fell faster. The pitter patter returned, small chunks of ice hitting the glass with little tinks. Things went from bad to worse and one night after a particularly nasty incident, Blaise confronted Jack.

Needless to say, it…didn’t go well.

Jack did not hold back. He let it all out. Elements were thrown. He hurt his father, and his mother, and nearly killed his little sister, and then left, never to see his parents or sister again.

Mother Nature couldn’t even begin to imagine how they must’ve all felt.

At least they had survived. Even Jacqueline. And given the extent of her wounds…it must’ve been dicey, in the week it took for the storm to dissipate enough for Winter to break through it and rush the little girl to the Springs.

The three of them had recovered. But it had been…hard.

And they weren't quite the same after it all.

Blaise was a little more tired. Looked a little more weighed down than he used to. Jacqueline was not as exuberant as she’d been before; she was always subduing herself, Mother Nature noticed. Trying to seem smaller and not as big of a presence as she used to be. And Winter…well.

The storm outside slowed. The snow shifted, back to a gentle, melancholy flurry.

Winter had frozen her heart again.

Mother Nature sighed. Placing her empty cup down gently in the sink, she stepped back outside. She lifted a hand, swirling it around her in the air. The snowflakes came towards her, fast as could be, the clouds following until a miniature little cloud of snow hovered over her palm, snowflakes drifting down and dusting her hand in a light layer of snow.

“Off you go, now. Go find a nice little suburb and do your thing.”

The mini snowstorm wrapped itself up into a tiny, little snowball as Mother Nature launched it. It soared away, already drawn to several suburbs that could use a good flurry. Mother Nature watched it go, tilting her face up and closing her eyes as the sun came back, the temperature warming up.

Things were different for the Frosts after everything went down.

They’d gotten back to their usual selves, of course. Nothing like a rambunctious teenager and two new summer sprites to get you back in the game. But there had always been something a little different and it simply wasn’t fair and THAT’S why she tried to avoid the business visits as MUCH as she could. She HATED visiting for Jack-related reasons. She’d much rather today be a regular run of the mill visit. A little catch-up, like yesterday’s coffee date with Autumn and tomorrow’s lunch date with Spring.

It simply wasn’t fair.

But then again, Fate never really was fair, was he?

“You got that right, Momma Nat.”

“Oh, for the love of—could you not do that? In my own home?”

Humourless laughter floated in on the breeze, the winds changing and getting colder. The laughter grew louder as a cloaked figure appeared on the seat across from the one she had vacated, the smoke surrounding him making it seem as though he flickered in and out of existence.

"Hey earth lady. You’re the one broadcasting your thoughts all over the place. I’m just doing my job.”

Mother Nature opened her eyes. “Which is what, remind me again? To annoy me? Mess with my family on purpose?”

He opened his hands in a sort of half shrug. “I unwind as I will, Nat. Have a seat! More tea? Fourth cup’s a charm!”

Mother Nature frowned, carelessly waving her hand. A stronger than necessary wind blew, the hood falling back to reveal milky grey eyes and tied back dark hair.

"What are you doing here? I have a lot to do."

“Really now? Huh.” He sat back in his chair, feigning surprise. “I never would’ve guessed. I thought it was tea time.”

Twirling his hand, Fate conjured a cup for himself. Throwing one leg over the other, he sipped it, smacking his lips and making a very big show of the whole thing.

“Mm. Delicious.”

Mother Nature could feel her face twitching again. She huffed, marching to the bistro table and sitting down directly across from him as strictly and regally as she could muster while trying her best to not show her very obvious annoyance. She glared, hard enough to freeze the table. Fate was one of the only immortals who really got on Mother Nature's nerves. He was so hard to be around!

“You are so easy to rile up, did you know that?” chuckling, he settled back into his chair, waving away the cup. “Taunting and teasing aside, I am here for a reason, you know.”

“Other than to bother me?”

“Believe it or not, yes! You go through this every time Frost does something, did you know that? The same train of thought each. And. Every. Time."

“I am aware. That’s very state-the-obvious of you. Where are the riddles? The rhymes?”

“Ah, I'm over them. Direct is best, or at least, that's my modus operandi these days. The other fates aren’t fans, either.”

“I wonder why. Something, something, directly interfering instead of watching and weaving and sniping and such?”

“What can I say? I’m hands in, not hands on. Besides, I’m not one single path. Fate is multiple paths, they can go anywhere and everywhere and what happens is up to you. Or at least, it should be. Miss me with that threads shit.”

“And I suppose, given the past, you’re an exception to that rule.”

“Yes.”

“Mm. That’s what I thought.”

“Snippy today, aren’t we? Pre El Niño?”

Mother Nature made a low sound in her throat.

“Right, crossed a line; bad joke. I get it! My bad.” He held up both hands in front of him, in a tiny show of surrender. “I'll get to it then."

"Please do."

"I am here today to tell you that you…are right.”

Mother Nature hummed happily.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while you can, Earth Lady. Look, here’s the thing. Every time Frost does something that causes you to visit the family, you are fated to have the same train of thought and redirect it all to me. And unfortunately, you are right, Tara.” He shifted forward in his seat. “See, we all make mistakes in our youth and not all of us recognize that and come to terms with it. But some do.”

“Oh, and this suddenly includes you?”

“Yes.”

For once, Fate sounded earnest. He recrossed his legs, cloak drifting around them as he looked up and off into the distance.

“Hmm. Good to know.”

“You sound unconvinced.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Nah.”

Mother Nature was pleasantly surprised. She blinked, her posture relaxing as she watched the fate closely. He uncrossed his legs, waving his hand. The tea cup came back, steam still wafting off the top.

“Hmm. Good to know.”

“Things will be changing this year though, Earth Lady, and that's why I'm here." He leaned forward across the table, almost touching noses with Mother Nature. "In order to rectify everything, you need to go visit the Frosts. Yet you sit here dallying. I’d say, you know, tit, tit, Momma G would not approve, but! Given her “rush” over to the palace the night the Princes were born…well, I think we both know that’s not quite correct.”

“Their messenger interrupted our dinner, Fate. Gaia wasn’t about to go on the clock on an empty stomach, and nor would she want me to do the same.”

“No, I’m not complaining! I appreciated it! The two of ‘em were so annoyed.”

“Mostly at you.”

“Well, when you learn someone never actually loved you, you can do crazy things.” He let go of the teacup. It floated beside him in mid-air. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here right now! I did a…fair amount of crazy things. BUT. The threads have all lined up and led us here.” He tapped the table top with his index fingers, leaning forward. “See, I did the whole Fate-thread-watching-thing and I have great news.” He grinned, wiggling in his seat. “All the threads are leading up to have this whole thing wrapped up with a neat little bow, but it all rides on you going to visit your Frosts."

He leaned back again, the floating teacup making its way back to his outstretched hand as he took a big, undignified slurp.

“Well, lucky for you, I'm afraid tea time has been significantly ruined for me.” Mother Nature stood up, glaring at Fate. “I'll be more than happy to take my leave now. Don’t be here when I get back.”

Not waiting for a reply, Mother Nature popped off in a brighter than usual golden glow, ignoring Fate’s cackling as she faded away. He settled in, sipping his tea and enjoying the sights of the garden.

The singular thread he had followed here split.

He smiled, content. Good. Things were back on track now. Multiple possibilities, all making their way towards the same end goal: fixing the mess he had made thousands upon thousands of years before. The players in place. Their choices theirs. And all he'd had to do was antagonize Tara.

Easy-peasy.

He could only hope the rest of the pieces would fall into place as easily as this one had.

That's all any of them could do, really.

Finishing off his tea, Fate disappeared from his spot, the garden left in peace once more.

[whump-me]

Conquest, Chapter 21: A Sick Craving

Chapter 21 of Conquest, a novel-length fantasy whump story about a timid royal clerk captured by the disgraced prince who needs their help to rule their newly conquered country. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: fantasy setting, nonbinary whumpee, male whumper, fearful whumpee, royal whumper, reluctant whumper, multiple whumpers, whumper POV, humiliation, torture for entertainment

---

Kezul

The shove had been almost gentle, but Mir stumbled forward as if Kezul had pushed them with all his strength. Their foot caught on their chain, and they tumbled to the floor, barely catching themselves with their hands. Another wave of nausea came over Kezul. The sick feeling made him furious, because it didn’t make sense. He had already ordered Mir to humiliate themselves by serving the Wolves with their hands. If playing music for the crowd had been more than their dignity could handle, he could only imagine what this would do. To say nothing of the element of touch. Why, after crossing that line, did he balk at the thought that Mir might think he had intended to shove them to the floor?

Mir picked themselves up. They stared out at the Wolves, who stared and grinned and jeered in anticipation. They didn’t move.

Had Kezul miscalculated? He had been thinking of Mir’s fear in the throne room with his father, and the fear lurking under their sharp words in the stable. And mostly, he had been thinking of the invisible pull Vorhullin the Unmaker exerted on anyone in his vicinity. His father’s will was everything. Surely Mir—terrified, trembling Mir—would not have the strength to defy him, or to so much as consider defying him.

But with his father’s presence exerting its pull on his own thoughts, what he hadn’t considered was how that first game, at that first feast, had begun. It had begun with Mir’s defiance. With Mir’s refusal to do something far easier than this, at far less cost to their dignity.

“Don’t refuse,” Kezul whispered, but his words were too low for anyone to hear except himself. He couldn’t let the Wolves hear, after all. Couldn’t let his father hear. “Don’t.”

If Mir refused to obey, it would take more than passing them around to the Wolves for him to regain the loss of respect. What would he have to do to Mir to repair the damage a refusal would cause?

Mir stood rigid for only a moment before slowly picking their way through the assembled Wolves to kneel in front of Vorhullin the Unmaker. Maybe Mir’s defiance was gone, worn away by routine and familiarity when threats and physical force hadn’t done the job. Or maybe Mir still had a little trust left in Kezul. Just enough to do what he asked this time.

The Wolves, with laughing voices and eager eyes, made space for them. But not so much space that they didn’t jostle up against Mir from all directions—intentionally, Kezul was sure. Mir flinched at every touch, until there were too many to react to. Then they only drew their shoulders tighter and ducked their head. But not before Kezul got a look at the expression of deep misery on their face.

But Kezul knew he was doing this to save Mir from worse. Even if Mir didn’t understand.

Mir grasped a bite of sauce-drenched chicken between two fingers. With a visible shudder as the sauce ran down their fingers, they held the bit of meat up to the Unmaker’s lips. The Unmaker opened his mouth and took the meat almost daintily, then followed up by slurping the sauce from Mir’s fingers. His eyes were locked on Mir’s face as he took in every shudder and flinch.

Kezul realized his own eyes were locked on Mir, too. He couldn’t look away.

Kezul’s instincts on what would get to Mir had been correct. If a touch was like a blow to them, this was worse. Mir looked down at their fingers, licked clean of sauce but gleaming with saliva, and shuddered like they had a blade to their throat. Kezul held his breath. Was this when the refusal would come?

But Mir fed the Unmaker the rest of the food on his plate, bite by bite. When he reached the bowl of soup, he took the bowl between his hands and held it to the Unmaker’s lips. But the Unmaker pushed it away. He cupped a hand, pantomiming what he wanted Mir to do. Mir cupped his own hand and dipped it in the soup. Then he lifted it to the Unmaker’s lips and let the Unmaker slowly drink it down.

It should have been an undignified way for the exalted Vorhullin the Unmaker or to eat. He had to slip the soup slowly and painstakingly, tiny mouthful after tiny mouthful. It dribbled out from between Mir’s fingers to land on the rug between them, and dripped down the Unmaker’s chin to wet his beard.

But his father didn’t look the least bit diminished by it. Maybe it was simply that the aura that surrounded the man meant nothing could take away the slightest bit of his dignity. Or maybe it had something to do with Mir’s posture, the disgust and unease written in every line of their body. Whatever the reason, the only undignified one in this situation was Mir.

When the Unmaker’s plate and bowl were both empty, he gestured to the Wolf nearest him, clearly directing Mir to feed him next. As Mir held the first bite up to his lips, Kezul turned away. He didn’t need to watch this. He already knew how it went.

Kezul served himself a plate of food. He sat against the wall, on the outskirts of the crowd, watching. Set apart, as his father had intended. He found he no longer cared about the message his place in the room sent. He had done what his father wanted with Mir. Wasn’t that enough of a message?

When Kezul’s plate was empty, Mir was still at it, feeding the Wolves who had crowded in around Kezul’s father hoping for their turn. He fed one and then another, and dribbled soup into the mouth of a third.

There were so many of them. At this rate, they could be here all night, and Mir still wouldn’t be able to feed all of them.

Did Kezul really need to be here? He had done what he had come to do. He had shown his father what he needed to show him. There was nothing for him to celebrate here. And he didn’t need to fear leaving Mir alone with his Wolves, because his father would ensure no permanent harm came to the prisoner. His father needed Mir alive to prove his point.

Kezul had just stood to leave when Mir looked up. Their eyes met. Mir’s chin lifted. As Kezul watched, Mir smoothed the emotion from their face—the disgust, the misery, the fear. That lifted chin made something hot and dark take root in Kezul’s stomach. What right did Mir have to attempt to hold on to their dignity, even here? Kezul had submitted when it became necessary; he had given his father what he wanted. Couldn’t Mir do the same? Didn’t they know that the longer it took them to admit defeat, the worse it would get for them?

His father, following Mir’s days, looked up at Kezul. Kezul tried to erase the emotion from his own face. But he didn’t have the practice at it that Mir had. His father’s mouth twisted in an unfriendly half-smile, and Kezul knew his father had seen something on his face. Kezul couldn’t have said what, not when he wasn’t sure what he was feeling himself. But whatever it was, his father found it amusing—and found Kezul himself wanting. Kezul knew. He had seen that look in his father’s eyes many times before.

“I hope you’re not leaving yet,” said his father, pitching his voice to carry across the room. Unlike when Kezul had tried the same trick, the room instantly quieted when his father spoke. Within instants, all eyes were on Kezul and his father.

“This feast is to celebrate my arrival to your country,” his father continued. He gave the words your country a mocking twist. Kezul remembered his father’s words about how just because his father had given him this place, that didn’t mean it was his. “It would be rude to leave before the celebration concluded, don’t you agree? And we haven’t even begun the entertainment you promised us.”

He looked down at Mir, who was holding a cupped palm to the lips of a laughing Wolf. The Wolf kept jostling into Mir at just the wrong moment and making soup spill down Mir’s clothes.

His father’s message was clear. This was a good beginning, but it was not enough. His father demanded more.

And for one horrible moment, Kezul wanted more, too. He wanted that lifted chin lowered. He wanted that look of emotionless superiority off Mir’s face. He wanted Mir to know they were not better than him.

He had not submitted to his father because he was weak. He had submitted to his father because his father’s will was a force of nature that demanded submission. No one could resist that force. If Kezul couldn’t, Mir certainly couldn’t.

“Of course I’m not leaving yet,” Kezul said into the quiet room. He forced a smile to his face, an imitation of his father’s. “I was only preparing to make an announcement. As much as I know you’d all like a chance to experience our host’s hospitality…” He inclined his head mockingly toward Mir. “There simply isn’t time. Your food would get cold by the time they made it to you. A pity the palace didn’t leave any other prisoners alive. But there’s nothing to be done about that now.”

If his father understood the criticism for what it was, he gave no sign. That didn’t stop Kezul’s face from flushing, and his heart from pounding as if he were in the thick of battle. His father was not a man who was built to be defied.

“My father is right,” Kezul said. “It’s time to move on to our evening’s entertainment. Those of you who have been with me from the beginning understand the rules. I’m sure you can explain to the newcomers.” He gestured toward Mir. “Your game got cut short last time. I promised you more, and then made you wait for far too long. The waiting is over. The prisoner is all yours. Just remember the rules—or, as I warned you before, it will be you in their place the next time.”

Last time, they had waited their turn as Mir was passed down the line. The anticipation had seemed to be almost as gratifying for them as their chance to actually inflict their own bit of harm on the prisoner. And, of course, there had been entertainment value in seeing how creative the others could get with their injuries, and who could make Mir scream the soonest or the loudest.

This time, no one waited. No one close enough to touch Mir, at least. They all grabbed for Mir at once, pulling at an arm, a leg, a lock of hair, a bit of fabric. Watching them, Kezul thought of two dogs fighting over the same stick, each growling at the other with their own half between their teeth. In his mind, he saw the stick snap in two. He was about to call out a warning, reminding them of the rules—no permanent damage—when they reached a sort of wordless cooperation. They splayed Mir out on the floor, one drawing a knife slowly down their arm, another jabbing the tip sharply into their thigh. The Wolves too far away to reach craned their necks to see, edging closer in the hope that their own turn would come soon.

Kezul’s father didn’t partake. He only watched, his mouth in a stern line, an unreadable gleam in his eye. At first he watched Mir. Then, as the air of the room became thick with screams and sobs and the jeers of the Wolves, he watched Kezul.

Kezul couldn’t manage a smile. Instead, he cleared his face of emotion, until he might as well have been a native of Danelor. He could tell he was doing it right because the gleam in his father’s eye turned into the familiar look of disappointment. Normally, the sight of disappointment on his father’s face was enough to make Kezul feel sick. This time, it lifted his heart. Whatever his father wanted from him right now—whatever telltale sign of sympathy for the prisoner he was hoping to catch—he would not get it. Kezul would deprive him of that.

Even if he could deprive him of nothing else.

But a blank face wouldn’t be enough forever.

Mir was still trying to keep the emotion off their own face. They were failing, of course. Their eyes shone with terror; a scream ripped from their throat with every new twist of a knife. But they were trying. In that moment, they and Kezul were two of a kind—except Kezul wasn’t the one feeling the bite of the blades. All Kezul had to do was stand there and watch, and even that was almost too much. Mir was the one whose skin was streaked with blood, and yet they still had a few scraps of dignity left in them.

More than Kezul, who had handed Mir over without a fight.

That dark thing in his stomach churned like a sea monster rising from the deep. He raised his voice. “Is that the best you can do? Come on—aren’t you warriors? Can’t you make them scream louder than that?”

The closest Wolf to Mir must have done something to take Kezul up on that challenge. Although the press of Wolves blocked Kezul’s view, the scream was impossible not to hear. The room erupted in cheers. When Kezul looked at Mir’s face again, tears were rolling down their cheeks.

Kezul felt sick. He wanted to turn away. And yet… and yet, he also didn’t. He wanted to drink in those tears on Mir’s face as he kept his own face impassive. He wanted that proof that he wasn’t the only one unable to resist his father.

He did, finally, force yourself to look away. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t, because the irresistible pull of his father’s presence pulled Kezul’s gaze to him.

But the look on his father’s face had changed. It looked at once brighter and softer. Kezul knew that look. He had seen it from his father before. But he couldn’t have put a name to it. All he knew was the feeling it opened up in his heart, and in his sludgy gut: a craving for something he shouldn’t want to and couldn’t have, like a witherwort addict begging on a street corner for a single seed.

Only when his father gave him a single nod did he know where he recognized the look from. It was the way his father looked at his two older brothers.

Maybe this was how it felt to be the son his father wanted.

It made him feel sick, sicker than his father’s disapproval ever had. But worse still was how, underneath the queasy lurch his father’s nod had given him, it made him feel good.

His father somehow pitched his voice to sound low and intimate while still making himself heard from across the room. “Now that I know you’re sincere about wanting to make use of this second chance, we can begin to work on fixing the mess you’ve made of this country. We leave tomorrow morning.”

---

Tagged: @suspicious-whumping-egg @halloiambored @whump-in-the-closet @whump-cravings @sunshiline-writes @annablogsposts @whither-wander-whump @seaweed-is-cool @bloodinkandashes @sonder35 @cakeinthevoid @looptheloup

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[theuniversitychallengereview]

Dopamining

Yesterday I listened to a podcast about dopamine and the other 'feel-good' brain hormones oxytocin, seratonin and endorphins. It feels kind of like cheating to include endorphins as a single thing when there are actually a bunch of different endorphins, but it means you get to use the cool acronym DOSE so I can't begrudge the neuroscientists too much for it. Or should it be the neuropsychologists? The brain people.

We all know that we are on our phones far too much, and yet we continue to be on our phones far too much.

The little dopmaine hit you get from reading a tweet or scrolling TikTok or watching a hundred Instagram reels is a lot easier to get than the satisfaction you get from reading a book or practicing guitar, and it staves off the boredom that arises if you just sit there with, god forbid, nothing to do but think.

But you are never satisfied when you stop watching the Instagram reels, or when you finish a session of playing 5-minute blitz chess matches while waiting for the bus. You always want more. If you've played five matches you want to play five more. If you've watched thirty reels you want to watch thirty more.

This feeling then carries over into the moments when we are not on our phones too, because we have crashed our supply of dopamine meaning that it is harder to achieve the non-phone-based things we want to do, like cooking dinner or building a spreadsheet. So we go back on our phone and order something from Deliveroo then play a few more games of chess while we're waiting for the food to arrive.

We started the day with the intention of planning a holiday and assembling a bookshelf, but after we woke up and spent twenty minutes on YouTube shorts there was no motivation left for anything else.

Why, then, am I telling you this when I have posted this article on Twitter with the intention of hijacking your attention for the brief fix of a University Challenge review?

Because I am part of the problem too.

I am trying to steal your dopamine for my own selfish social media ambitions, to steal your motivation and get you hooked on these reviews just like Facebook is. The only difference is that I haven't used your data to become a billionaire.

So if you've come to me from Twitter then get off here now - leave your phone and your headphones behind and go find the nearest tree. Stare at it, touch it if you like, then come back and tell me how you feel.

Ah, I forgot one step - subscribe to the blog so that you don't need to rely on Twitter's increasingly spiteful algorithm to find me. Instead I will arrive fully formed in your email inbox and you can read me at your leisure.

Sign up for The University Challenge Review

Next week we can deal with oxytocin, but for now, let's get on with the episode.

Darwin College, Cambridge vs Birkbeck.

This is Darwin's third appearance on the Challenge, losing a tight semi-final to St Edmund Hall on their debut in 2019. Birkbeck won the trophy in 2003, but didn't appear again until 2020, and they have made two quarter-finals since then

Here's your first starter for ten

Darwin captain Whitaker takes the opening points with Where Angels Fear To Tread, setting the tone for the rest of the match. His team is made up of three women, and the Birkbeck team also has two women, meaning that the men are numerically outnumbered, which is quite a rare occurrence.

The picture starter also goes to Whitaker. That's three for him - it's going to get more difficult to keep trackas the show goes on.

Van Onzenoort bounces back for Birkbeck with elasticity, and they mixed up their answers on glass-making processes, giving super-cooling twice rather than tempering and annealing. A second for Van Onzenoort wins Birkbeck a bonus set on Sicilian foods, including one on cakes which Skidmore isn't much help on because he's 'not that into cakes'.

Hamilton gives Whitaker his fourth starter of the night, and Max Factor (who was apparently a real person, after whom the makeup brand is named) continues his streak.

Evans takes the music starter with Frank Sinatra, but they can't maintain the momentum and Whitaker returns with David Hume.

Van Onzenoort keeps Birkbeck in it with Bayes, and Evans grabs the second picture starter to close the gap even further. When Moorthy takes her first points with All Quiet on the Western Front they are only 25-points behind.

Whitakeover

But it is at this stage that Whitaker takes complete control of the match for Darwin, with four starters back to back on a wide variety of subjects (Venus, Albanian refugees in Italy, Salisbury Cathedral and the 800s).

Have you been counting? I might have missed one out so I'll just tell you - he finished with eleven (11!) starters, which is the highest of the series so far.

He was also the only person on his team to get a starter, which might be a record of some sort. Look out for him in the next round!

Darwin 205 - 110 Birkbeck

I hadn't realised quite how impressive Whitaker was until I saw all of his plaudits on social media, but eleven starters is a stonking performance, and Birkbeck couldn't keep up with him at all.

In fact, his points from starters alone would have tied Birkbeck's total.

See you next week (by which time you'll all have subscribed so you don't have to crash your dopamine supplies on Twitter) for Durham vs Oriel, a rematch of the 2000 Grand Final.

[dangerous-advantage]

concerning the new changes (07.10.23)

all right fuck it i wasn't gonna do this but then i ended up filling the tags on the post i reblogged.

so here's my thoughts on staff's 'Tumblr's Core Product Strategy" post and the things that i think could actually be good!... if staff respects tumblr's culture in implementing them.

to note, i am referring to this post. for better context, please go read the whole thing and try not to skip details, since i think it's important to understand the post through your own perspective if you want to participate in the conversation.

this post worried me at first, both because changes in the tumblr ecosystem with as much weight as this post carries have, historically, been pretty bad for the userbase.

starting off with a focus on creating a larger user base and inviting more, new creators rather than with a strong plan to focus on improving the current state of tumblr sets off alarm bells.

reading through the rest of it leaves me with... mixed thoughts. while it honestly does seem like they've heard a lot of the things we've been screaming at them about and might actually take steps to make things improve, i'm still wary.

this isn't a post explaining specific changes tumblr plans to implement. in fact, there are relatively few examples of actual strategies being communicated. it's just an overview with a lot of implications for the future.

i mean, not even the new tumblr labs group has any idea what the exact changes are going to be. just look at this:

[ID: A screenshot containing text from a post made by the aforementioned account. It reads, "But we're not sure exactly what that change looks like, so we've assembled a new team, called Tumblr Labs, to figure it out as quickly..." It cuts off here. /End ID]

and i think that's the problem.

so, the post. staff explains that the issue, as they see it, is that the platform is fundamentally flawed-- i.e., because tumblr is difficult to use if you don't have an understanding of the site before, it tends to scare off new users rather than encourage engagement.

this isn't untrue. however, it should be noted, the tumblr userbase has cultivated a culture of teaching newcomers how the website and the website's culture functions. (see: the many posts made as 'guides' in the wake of the twitter and reddit fiascos, as well as @/strange-aeon's video on the topic.)

(not to say that this system isn't imperfect and could be improved by directing new users to the these posts, buuuuuuut i'll get into that later.)

now: i (and i think most of the userbase) agree with staff on the main point-- tumblr, as a platform, is broken. we have long complained about the bugs and the messy reblog chains and the notifications overwhelming you if a post gains traction.

(though, we've also just integrated that into tumblr culture, but that's a tangent for a different time.)

here's the thing: staff does mention these things as problems they want to fix.

here's a short list of some things the post mentions that i honestly agree are a problem, and that a lot of people have wanted to see change!

[ID: Screenshots of items taken from the bulleted lists on staff's post. These read as follows: "Improving Tumblr's search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards." "Making it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread." "Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral." "Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.""Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users." /End ID]

again, these are things that i agree are issues and would be cool to see improved upon. but staff doesn't tell us how they plan to do this.

in staff's response to the userbases' assumption that they're going to remove the reverse-chronological dashboard, they state they're 'surprised' users came away with this assumption.

i, for one, am not.

the relationship between tumblr staff and the tumblr collective has been strained for a long time. mounting frustrations about users' actual issues with the website being ignored while new features are implemented that are almost unanimously disliked doesn't help.

and don't forget, the last time a change as drastic as this post is making it seem came into action, the porn ban was implemented. a change that had an overall negative effect on the community and tumblr's culture at large. it tore away crucial aspects of tumblr's identity that we'll probably never get back.

so while this post does address issues users have wanted to see fixed, of course we're still going to be wary.

the bottom line is, users don't trust staff to implement changes that will be beneficial to improving the platform for the tumblr userbase. (the recent reddit and twitter debacles don't help things much, either.)

i think staff needs to realize, as the final poster put it, tumblr already has innate value. value created by the community.

if staff focuses on improving tumblr to be easier to use-- in accordance with elevating tumblr's culture-- it will attract more people, simply by being less broken all the time.

this brings me to the other (main) issue i have: putting new users first over the current userbase.

this may not have been what staff meant to imply, but the emphasis seems to be on improving the userbase for incoming users, rather than those of us who are already here.

to be clear, i don't think that making tumblr easier to navigate for new users is bad. i mean, there's a reason we were writing guides. joining tumblr if you aren't already exposed to it can be daunting.

allowing new users to rely on an actual, working algorithm (although i think a user-driven algorithim is possibly one of the best parts of tumblr) isn't inherently bad. using that algorithim to elevate new creators isn't bad, either.

it's the way they choose to do this that makes us wary. like i mentioned before, we already have somewhat of a system for on-boarding new users to the site: word of mouth from more experienced users. this helps with both learning how to navigate tumblr and introducing new users to tumblr culture.

with all this in mind: where do we go from here?

in my mind, the solution for these problems comes down to communication. if staff wants more trust from the tumblr userbase, they need to show they are willing to listen to feedback from the tumblr collective.

when implementing changes, a great way to avoid the immediate backlash and distrust of tumblr users is by clearly outlining the changes they plan to make and the strategies by which they will be carried out.

another user made the analogy that websites should be like cities, where the users have a say in (as staff puts it) the 'evolution of tumblr.'

(mmmmmaybe we could use that spiffy new poll feature, too? everybody loves polls!)

for on-boarding new users, staff could take inspiration from the userbase in implementing a system by which new users are given the information needed to navigate tumblr. tidy up the site, remove bugs, and make it easier to use, and a lot of problems will sort themselves out.

then, we can go from there.

regarding the rest of the stuff i brushed over, i don't feel i can really say much without knowing what they actually plan to do, or where they plan to go with these things.

for example, here's another list of images of things from the post that i am cautiously intrigued by, but am worried will be improved for the worse:

[ID: Another series of images, showing more of the items listed in staff's post. They read as follows: "Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs." "Get creators' new content in front of people who are interested in it." "Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting." "Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs." "Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds." /End ID.]

the bottom line is this: if staff wants the support of the userbase in upcoming changes, they need to show that they respect and value us and the culture at large. in my opinion, staff has made strides in embracing tumblr culture, but we need to know these changes are not just motivated by profit.

if staff intends to keep it's current users, they need to to recognize that we deserve a say in this, too.

without the userbase, tumblr wouldn't exist. end of story. we are what keep tumblr alive. as stated before, expanding the userbase is not a bad thing. but doing so to the detriment of tumblr's culture is.

in this regard, i do truly hope that staff means what they said in the conclusion of their original post:

[ID: An image of the conclusion of staff's post. It reads: "Our mission has always been to empower the world's creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that priotitizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we--" The words then cut off. /End ID]

so, @staff. if you really do believe this: prove it.

[zaeliaeve]

ꜰʟᴏʀᴇꜱ [ꜱᴇʀɢɪᴏ ʀᴀᴍᴏꜱ] Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: this is purely fiction and there are things that will be inaccurate to real life. This is all for fun! I do not speak Spanish so please excuse any mistranslations, I literally just used Google translate haha. Thanks for reading!

2009

There are two things in this world that everyone can agree to hate mutually. The first being twenty three year old Sergio Ramos; the long haired defense player with a loud mouth and short temper seems to rile everyones feathers. Perhaps one of the worst things about him is his immense talent, meaning everyone will just have to put up with him because he knows with his skill, he is not going anywhere.

The second thing this world hates is nepotism, and who wouldn't? Nobody likes the lazy bosses son walking around the office being the nuisance that you can't say anything to just because he hit the family lottery. Nepotism is a direct reminder that life is unfair and favors some more than others.

Catalina Flores didn't feel life favored her most of the time. There was never anything special about her, no dazzling beauty that would get her anything she wanted; nor spectucular social skills that would let her build the friendships she always wanted. All she had ever been seen as was invisible. Catalina's life had been a lonely one and that was no secret to anyone around her.  

Perhaps that's why her father's sister, Maria took pity on her and offered her a job with the team her husband coaches. A photographer for Real Madrid. 

There was a couple of things that made Catalina hesitant to accept the kind gesture.

Number one, too big of a stage at only twenty years old. Photography is something Catalina has and always taken seriously, but to go from doing what she has been compared to one of the biggest football teams in the world is a lot of pressure, rightfully so. Maria assured her that there would be other photographers there and that all the weight didn't land on her shoulders souly. 

Number two, was Catalina even good enough? There is many photos she's proud of, but like anyone around her age she makes mistakes. When she was sixteen she shot her brothers birthday party completely out of focus and the ones there were in focus were totally unflattering. That's something that always creeps back into her brain as she's trying to fall asleep at night. So embarrassing. Her aunt shushes those thoughts as she reminders Catalina of the photography contests she has won in recent years. 

Truthfully, she felt a bit guilty taking the offer but to say no is something she feared would regret. Although football is not something she had ever necessarily cared about, it was a huge opportunity. It's not something she felt truly unqualified for. Why not just see how it goes?

On Catalina's first day it was luckily a bit easier. They were only training, and truthfully only needed shots for their new star player, Cristiano Ronaldo. who brought a lot of good press for the team.

Dark purple circles lay under Catalina's eyes as proof of the sleepless night she had prior, tossing and turning with anxiety of the day to come. The black camera bag strapped around her body felt heavier than usual, blocking the badge her uncle gave as permession to be there. 

The training grounds felt massive and unfamiliar, she couldn't imagine what it felt like to be inside the actual stadium. There was a sweet older lady who showed Catalina the way outside where the players had yet to assemble onto the pitch.

That is when Catalina took the time to prepare her camera, adjusting it to the settings she deemed best as not to repeat her brothers birthday incident all those years ago. One by one each player shuffled out onto the field in their training clothes, all smiles as the sun beamed against their skin.

It was only then Catalina realized how unprepared she was.  I really should have googled their names before this. She made a mental note to study their faces and names tonight. The only one she could point out was Cristiano, who she knew was a big deal for the club. 

Anytime she could catch the Portuguese star flashing his bright teeth or with the lighting just right she made sure to snap an extra picture. There seemed to be one player being rougher than the rest, slapping the back of his teammates heads, or outright tackling them to the floor with a wide smile plastered on his face. 

"Get off of me Sergio! What have you been eating, gordito?" One with large curly hair laughed, slapping at the long haired one's sides.

Sergio. Sergio. Sergio  Catalina repeatedhis name over and over in her head as to not forget it as she captured the duos tussle back and forth on the grass.

It ended with another one coming in plopping on the both of them, causing both of the players to groan in pain. That's when the coach came in and told them finish the task at hand, and they followed orders accordingly but Catalina didn't miss Sergio getting one last smack on the back of the brunettes neck.

Apparently, Cristiano didn't miss it either as he busted out laughing before quickly putting a hand over his mouth to restrain himself.

 Click click click

The team seemed to know when to calm down as for the rest of practice they took their jobs seriously without it being a drag. Of course they still had fun, but not too distractingly.  

One with a buzzcut stopped to smile and wave at her very briefly in the middle of running up and down the field. Catalina's lips upturned as she waved at him back with her free hand, the other gripping the large camera for dear life. 

Click click click

Catalina felt she got pretty good shots of them all, a small weight lifted off of her shoulders. Maybe it wasn't as big of a disaster as she thought. 

The sun was setting so she knew it was almost time to go. The last thing they were doing was shooting balls across to each other in random pairs. As Catalina went to adjust her settings to accommodate the now deep orange sun, there was suddenly loud shouting all at once "cuidado!"

Before she could even process what they were saying, a large round object bounced off of her forehead; the force of it sending her backwards onto the soft grass. Instinctively she held her arm up to make sure her camera didn't fall as hard as she did. 

Many players rushed to the side where Catalina layed on the ground, looking up at the white clouds above. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! " Number 3 gasped as he leaned over her, blocking her view of the sky. 

Soon, each cloud got blocked by a member of the team's head, faces filled with worry as they looked down to the girl below them. All she could feel was the throbbing of her eye and scalp. "Pepe hijo de puta!" The buzzcut one exclaimed as he hit number 3's shoulder from beside him.

In the dead center of Catalina's vision she seen Sergio with the faintest smirk on his face. It felt like for a split second, time froze and all she could feel was this man laughing at her. Suddenly reality came crashing back to Catalina and she sat up abruptly, almost headbutting Sergio in the process. "I'm fine, it's no worries. You have really great aim, this is good for the team right?" Catalina tried to laugh it off, although her tone was unconvincing.

The curly haired one ruffled her dark locks in a way that commended her for being a good sport. Catalina could feel her face was heating up from not only the pain, but the huge feeling of  embarrassment creeping into her chest. Slowly they backed off, but Pepe stayed and apologized profusely. 

Catalina waved it off with a smile and assured him that she truly was okay. In the background she could hear number 11 running to get something that she would quickly find out is an ice pack.

As she pressed the cool fabric to her eye all she could think about was Sergio's face staring back down at her.

[dielukedie-subaru]

Since there has been some interest in my current intake, here is it broke down. I have tried numerous setups but this custom OEM+ version is the best and passes stupid SMOG visual check.

I also intensely studied the 2.5RS forums and looked at dyno charts showing that this IS the best when combined with a 2.25" cat back exhaust and equal length headers. Trust me!

This was a lot work as well as trial and error and willingness to start over again and redo it again several times. I think this was also the lightest combo if you trying to reduce weight.

One of a kind custom intake for the naturally aspirated Subaru EJ25D....

First up is you need the intake tract/duct and hoses from an earlier model Subaru Impreza or any Subaru that has this intake tube vs the stock version with the "torque box" behind the throttle body. Junkyard is your best buddy.

I had expensive high performance mandrel bent blah blah blah intakes which I constantly struggled with keeping the metal tubing cool (I used a laser temp gauge). This plastic is basically the same but rarely gets too hot to touch. So, actually a cold air intake if you keep reading.

Since the entire manifold needed to come out, I painted it wrinkle red and polished the runners and throttle inlet.

The reason I removed the manifold was to install stainless studs to make installing the 10mm thick teflon spacers and 2 sets of gaskets easier. Similar to 8mm Grimmspeed phenolic (previously installed) but thicker. This mod makes a big difference, the entire manifold now stays cool. No more engine block heat soak, only ambient engine bay heat.

"For every 5 degree reduction in temperature, increases power by 1%"

You have to extend the EGR tube and possibly grind your ignition coil pack mounts lower. Because the entire manifold assembly will be sitting ~12mm higher.

I was fortunate enough to work with the gasket maker. So he made 10mm teflon intake manifold spacers and a matching prototype 10mm throttle body spacer! Again 2 gaskets to ensure no leaks. Not sure if these were ever made available afterwards since I was the first car.

This spacer combo increased plenum volume as well as helped to keep heat transfer drastically reduced.

Using my custom ported, polished and knife edged throttle body that I did myself with the coolant hose permanently bypassed and the cruise control bits removed. Keep in mind you will need longer bolts if you use a spacer here. Definitely improved throttle response after just the throttle body swap.

I scored this GC8 v3 factory resonator/cold air intake inlet from the UK. It's what goes with those fender plugs. Grabs cold air from inside the fender behind the corner light up high, so no chance of sucking up water. FWIW, You really shouldn't just delete the "snorkus", seriously, it's just gonna mess up your MAF sensor.

I was also able to make the resonator from a SVX work in the 04 Outback with some persuasion. It too takes air from the same location but the box was hard to cram in the fender.

The intake tract will work with whatever air filter box but in order to use the EUDM WRX intake inlet/resonator you will need the matching filter housing box from an earlier model or have to drill a new mounting hole. You will need both halves!

BEST panel filter on the market IS made by Grimmspeed! Don't waste your money on any other filter! I also added a Filter Wears waterproof inlet cover/pre-filter to the resonator just incase of water spray. The factory option fender plug fills that hole.

And I'm not sure if this was an upgrade or not but here is the JDM JECS MAF I am also using. Used DEI gold heat reflective tape to keep it cool and extend the life. Possibly more consistent/accurate readings?

The only other things installed are a Weapon R catch can to the PVC, which DOES keep some crap out of the intake tract and off the throttle body but probably no real performance advantage. Plus a heat/flame resistant "sock", same as around my fluid reservoirs, over the bendy/flexible bit of the intake tract just after the MAF. That area is prone to splitting/cracking with heat and age!

Now for treasure at the end of the rainbow! I am actually gonna give you nerds the mother fucking part numbers! These can be life savers when searching for parts.

*You might have to make or reuse your PVC, crankcase, IAC valve hoses. So grab whatever is attached if your at the junkyard or hit up the auto parts store.

•Subaru PN's:

Intake duct/tract (EJ22): 14457AA111

Air filter housing/box: A53FA02 (upper) & A53FA01 (lower)

Fender resonator/snorkus (UK WRX): A21FA03 or A32FA01 or A21FA00

Fender plug: 46059FA000

•Grimmspeed PN's:

Dry-Con Air Filter: 060092

Intake manifold spacers (8mm phenolic): 015001

[efrmellifer]

VI. Treasure (Ring)

There was something wrong with the day. There had to be. How else would seemingly everything have gone wrong?

Etien had overslept, and more than just catching an extra fifteen minutes past when she should have been up. She had been sleeping like the dead, according to the note left on her bedside.

Aymeric, gods bless him, had managed to take care of Betula and Landric while getting himself ready for meetings with the Houses Assembled and training with the Temple Knights, and set the children up with books (and the steward to mind them, just in case) in the drawing room while they waited for Etien to wake up.

I did kiss your cheek before departing, dearest, but I fear you may not have sensed it. She let out a soft sigh with knit brows as she read that. What a man, was all she could think. What a superhero of a man.

“Good morning, you two,” she breezed, trying to act nonchalant, trying to shake the disappointment of tea that was stale and Mun-Tuy milk that was on the edge of spoiling. “Are we ready for the day? Your father got you all fed and dressed, I hear.”

It wasn't, she admitted, so much that they were difficult tasks or that Aymeric had ever neglected the duties of fatherhood. It was simply that she was reminded that he often was the sole parent available to them, with help from Edmont. She felt terrible for losing out on precious time with the children today. And about Aymeric having even less time for himself because of this.

Eager not to lose more time, she got out of bed, stretching and licking her teeth, making the bed and getting dressed before she rushed down to the kitchen and then out to the drawing room.

“Yes, Mum,” Landric replied.

“Excellent. We shall have to treat him to a relaxing evening tonight, won’t we?”

She fixed hats on everyone’s heads and gloves on her hands before taking each child’s hand in one of hers and mouthing “thank you” to the steward on the way out the door.

Running errands was more in every way when she had the kits with her, Etien found. It was more pleasant to see Betula go wide-eyed at the wares for sale in the Jeweled Crozier, to hear the shopkeeps remark “such well-behaved little ones!”, than it was to simply do the shopping alone, asking “how fresh are these salmon?” and looking at shiny trinkets with what the gobbieflock would have described as “lustyeyes” all by herself.

But it was also a little more stressful to make sure neither child got lost in the crowd, that Betula didn’t break anything from wanting a closer look, that Landric didn’t clam up so tight no one could communicate with him. It was easier to hand over coin as a housewife only out on quick errands, to do it alone and not have to worry about them, but she enjoyed having the children with her.

She had thought maybe the joy of errands with the kits would redeem the day, but returning home, she found that there were new ordeals to come.

Betula and Landric were content to play in the drawing room, little carved-wood dragons soaring through the air in their hands, and as Etien sat watching them, doing a little mending and planning meals, she reached up to slip her finger through the Borel ring on its chain around her neck… and there was nothing there.

Where was it? She put it on every day when she got dressed—in the field, she left it on; here at home, it came off at night and went back on in the morning. She knew she had taken it off slipping into bed last night. She could recall the scene with crystal clarity, the way the pendants and chain had clattered softly against the wood and Aymeric had reached out for her as she lifted the covers to get under them and into his arms.

When she’d woken… she recalled buttoning up her dress. She put her necklace on every morning, it was a habit she’d never broken.

If it had come off in the Crozier, it was gone, certainly. Too many feet walked that pathway; it was probably kicked into the snow or off the edge into nothingness over the mountainside. Or if it had been found, then someone picked it up, and it was silver and a sapphire. If they turned it in, who could say it would return to her hands?

Or the hands of its true owner, Aymeric.

Etien felt like a terrible excuse for a wife today.

She went back to sewing, trying her best to (in her mind) at least do one thing right.

She prepared dinner, feeling dread seeping into the pit forming in her stomach. She wasn’t even dreading Aymeric’s reaction—she’d never had any reason to fear him or the way he’d reacted to her, even when it would have been understandable for him to be upset with her.

He was patient and reasonable, and there was a very good chance that he was going to take this in stride. But she couldn’t shake off the guilt, couldn't find her way out of the panic that gripped her.

That ring was one of her most treasured possessions, a marker of where she belonged, whom she belonged with. It was her wedding ring, but more than that, it was a family heirloom. To lose it in the street, even though it wasn’t out of carelessness, just a sheer accident, felt unforgivable.

He arrived home, and the children cheered, rushing to him.

He kissed the tops of their heads, then turned to Etien for a kiss hello. She squirmed with guilt, and kissed him briefly.

“I need to talk to you after dinner,” she said. “It’s… something I did, not you.”

He blinked down at her. “All—all right.” He stroked her cheek. “Please do not look so nervous, dearheart. Whatever has happened, we can resolve it, I’m sure.”

She nodded, swallowing. “Let’s just go eat.”

Dinner was pleasant and uneventful. When it wasn’t on his utensils or drinkware, Aymeric’s hand was over Etien’s reassuringly.

Once the dishes were cleared, they retreated to their bedroom.

“Now. What is going on?” he asked her, sitting down on the bed.

“I lost your—your mother’s ring,” Etien admitted, with no preamble. No need to delay it, it wasn’t going to change anything. “I’m sorry, Aymeric. I know it’s one of the last mementos you have of her, and that it meant a lot to you.” Tears streaked from her eyes as she looked down at the floor. “It meant a lot to me, too; I think it fell off me when I was shopping with the kits earlier. I still have to tell Estinien and Yugiri I lost the locket and seashell from them, too, but the ring was a little more important. I’m so sorry. I understand if you’re angry with me.”

“Oh, Etien,” he murmured. She winced. He sounded disappointed, but he took her hand. Then, he looked to her bedside table and smiled. He pushed aside the note he’d written her. “This ring?”

She gasped.

“You must have laid the note atop the necklace and forgotten all of them. But there the ring is, there the locket and shell are, safe and sound.”

She sighed, a few more tears—now of relief—slipping out. “Oh, thank the gods.”

By her hand, Aymeric drew her close, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I agree. The thing I treasure most is all right. And so is the ring.”

She giggled wetly, and he rubbed her back.

“Kneel, dearest, so I can put it back in its proper place.”

She sank to her knees, and he clasped the chain around her neck, feeling the ring as it settled into the dip in her collarbone. “There you go.” He tipped her chin up so she met his eyes. “Even if you had lost it, my love is not contained in it. There are jewelers who could make replicas.”

“But—”

He shushed her softly. “Things are replaceable. You, and our children and family, are not. I know which I would rather have.”

She lifted slightly, steadying herself with her hands on his knees so she could kiss him. “We’re all lucky to have you.”

[clementine-kesh]

Ok so I thought about your point about different programming languages and I think I have to disagree. Obviously, nobody's gonna be super good at all of them (or even more that about 5 at a time tops) and sure, if you're unusually proficient in a specific one, that's still gonna make a difference and I'm not denying that.

But here's the thing: most modern languages are pretty easy to pick up if you already know a few. They're designed that way, we have widely accepted standards now and yes there's hard to learn languages we'll probably always need (Assembly 😔) and also older (thus not adhering to modern standards) ones that are still used today due to other factors (COBOL 🙄) but if you pick up a (non-esotheric) language made in the 90s or after and you've coded in another modern language before, you'll probably be reasonably confident within a week or two and reading code will usually be possible more or less immediately, with the occasional google ofc but like 75% of coding is googling anyway.

Given that most sci-fi is set in the future, often the far future, I think it's reasonable to speculate this will only get easier in times to come. Languages whose continued use is caused by circumstance will eventually be replaced and languages we need but are hard to learn will be reduced to a minimum with most of it being replaced by more accessible languages. This has already been happening. For instance, just under 2% of version 4.9 of the Linux kernel source code is written in assembly; more than 97% is written in C. I directly cribbed that last sentence from Wikipedia, it's a very succinct summary.

So while I still call bullshit on the way trek treats xenolinguists (I'm especially thinking Hoshi rn) that's pretty much the speed of picking up a new language a sci-fi programmer would probably have, especially considering IDEs would also develop further, making anyone with programming experience able to code medium to complex stuff in a new language within a day or so, even if it'd take them longer to code it than someone with a lot of experience in that specific language.

I realise this isn't your field and so probably not very interesting to you but I've been thinking about it a lot since your reply and I just wanted to say this ig. Maybe some of your followers will care, dunno.

-Levi

no you’re not wrong! i code in r, python, and fortran as part of my research and learning the latter two after becoming proficient in r was a lot easier than learning r initially. i didn’t phrase it very well but my thought process was more along the lines of, since this is scifi we’re talking about, working with an alien programming language, especially one from a civilization you’ve never encountered before, would be more like trying to learn a non-standardized language

[justanechoflower]

Considering a certain offer Kris tried to give me involving you (I declined it), well, it’s even more confusing. The only common message I could get is “I like killing”. Not a good message there. Past you thought it was kill OR be killed, this Kris seems to be going by “kill AND be killed”. 

Anyway, sixth grade? Alright, when we get to the void I’ll see what I can do, take a look at how it’s running, and see if I can make that look normal in my world. Transfer students are a common thing in Japan, just not from lower grades… but again, we’ve never had the issue of transfer students in the game. So that should be as simple as modifying an environmental factor.

Oh, right! Well, I think I might? I’ll try going in myself to see, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you if it went wrong. At least if it was me, Sayori could restore me! It’ll also be to see whether the void is currently stable or a complete static mess, I wouldn’t want to put you through the static mess!

Hmm… So the steps I got here, but in reverse, and changing the orientation.. And I’m doing this with GML instead of Ren’Py, since this game runs on GML… Though it all goes down to assembly anyway. It was easier getting here, since I had the console with me then. Now I don’t… so I might need to do an exploit or two...

So first, I’m going out of- huh, we’re in a void already, aren’t we? We’re already out of bounds! 

Next, uh.. ”;

5A27D1F 0B217F

44 44 4C 43 2E 65 78 65

str = “And… it’s there, the connection. It was mostly remained there the whole time, I’ve spent a while setting it up from the other side, those were the steps to activate it… I basically had it open my game and read stuff from there, that portal is actually the program transferring files between the two game programs. So I’ll just be going in there, and…

——————-

(DDLC:Club Room)

Sayori:Everyone! It’s t- …Wait, uh… I think I might have…

Natsuki:Sayori, did you forget your poem again? *snickers*

Sayori:Y-Yes, I did! Wait, hey! That’s mean, Natsuki! Everyone forgets things sometimes! But I know where I left it, I’ll just need to go get it! You can… keep hanging out in the meantime while I get my poem!

—————-

(DDLC:Void)

Sayori:Monika!! You’re back! I really missed you! Are you going to-

Monika:Oh, hey Sayori. I was seeing if things were stable here. They are, I’ll be right back! *Monika goes back to Undertale’s world*

Sayori:…Meanie.

————-

(Undertale)

Well, it worked! Now we can both go through!

————-

(Look, if someone who’s been gone for months came back, and then just left again, they’d look like a meanie. Monika is coming back though, and Flowey’ll probably be a surprise to Sayori! And in case it wasn’t clear, Sayori didn’t really forget her poem… Well, not this time, at least. She does actually forget stuff from time to time.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flowey: I can’t say I don’t understand him a little… Whatever. Kris isn’t worth any attention anymore. As long as they don’t do anything, we can ignore that dweeb.

*Flowey peeks through the portal, amazed by this ability and determining if it’s safe to go through.*

Flowey: I know it’s already enough with the whole code thing in your world, but I’m from a different universe. Monika was gonna let me visit your world since she came to mine, and I’m curious to see everything. I hope that’s okay! I even heard about your club, and I enjoy literature myself so I thought I could attend at least once.

(We weren’t in a void in the undertale universe it’s just that most of the time I don’t like teasing backgrounds so I just pretend it’s there and only draw props and characters. Also my handwriting is small and squished in that second picture so the last sentence Flowey says there is “Boy, you outta be confused.”)