#that is quite literally just factually what he WOULD HAVE BEEN DOING

[oceanwithouthermoon]

saikis powers are a vital part of him so it makes sense that people who dont know about them cant truly understand his whole self, but its also very silly to me when people act like its the ONLY important part of him... people act like his friends that arent in the know are completely blind to who saiki is, but i feel like that kinda means you missed some major points... he cant keep his powers a secret forever and it DOES matter, but he can still be loved and KNOWN without knowing about them... hes still human, he still has a personality, he still has regular likes and dislikes, etcetc

his friends perspectives on him may have been wrong at first, but they CHANGED... they know him and love him, and theyll KEEP loving him the SAME once they know of his powers...

​some people cough cough cough in this fandom like to reduce saiki to JUST his powers and its so obvious that you just. missed everything. you didnt absorb anything from the show, you just saw it and went "ha, everyone thinks hes just a guy when hes actually super cool and powerful" no no no, he IS cool and powerful but look a little closer and at his core he is still LITERALLY JUST A GUY 😭😭😭

hes such a guy.....

[xclowniex]

Again, calling what’s happening Palestine a “war” is a crock of bs

Cause last I saw, Israelis aren’t being displaced from their homes and constantly being shuffled around to “safe zones” and then being bombed while at these “safe zones”

Their hospitals and homes and schools are still in tact and they have food and water and shelter

Israeli journalists aren’t being intentionally targeted and murdered

Israelis aren’t having to eat dirt and leaves in order to survive, they’re not being starved to death

All of the above is happening to Palestinians, while the IDF targets them day and night in some weird hope to “wipe out Hamas” even though their efforts have been quite shit and instead are just killing any Palestinian that’s in their way

How is it antisemitism to point out that the lives of Palestinians are being put in danger by the hands of Israelis

It’s never been about Hamas or the hostages it’s full blown ethnic cleansing and genocide, why you need to the “approval” from some “experts” when the evidence is shown day in and day out is beyond me

And quit it with the whole “oh no one should be dying” BS when it’s just “all lives matter” in a different font

1. The safe zones they move to are no longer safe zones because Hamas uses them as military zones and undertakes military business in those zones. Under international law, it is a war crime to use a protected building or zone as it makes it no longer a protected zone and makes Israel allowed to attack the area. Whilst intentionally killing civilians is also a war crime and would be the IDF's fault, if any civilians get caught in the crossfire or get any stray fire, Hamas is at fault for their deaths. If hamas cared for their civilians, they would not carry out military business in safe zones.

2. Journalists aren't being intentionally attacked. Hamas and AL Jazeera misreport who are journalists. For example, a builder who was killed was reported as being a journalist. He was not a journalist. Here is a source which goes into it and shows examples of the lies.

3. It is absolutely terrible that Palestinians are starving, but it is not Israel's fault. Enough aid enters the strip to feed people in Gaza. However Hamas and UNWRA staff (which has links to Hamas), instead of letting aid org deal out aid evenly, steals aid and sells it. Palestinians are literally having to purchase aid from Hamas. Aid that they are supposed to get for free. Source.

4. Saying that i don't want anyone dying is not at all akin to saying all lives matter. One is an opinion, the other is twisting a phrase to change the meaning of the original phrase.

Black lives matter means that obviously all lives matter however black lives need to be focused on due to being at a higher risk. All lives matter twists black lives matter into a false meaning of only black lives matter and no other lives.

Saying that "I don't want anyone to die" is a factual statement of my opinion. It is a fact that i do not want anyone to die. It's not me twisting it to make it seem like Palestinian lives are lesser or that no one should be focusing on Palestinian lives.

Considering your media literally is already poor enough for you to believe misinformation, it is not surprising that you lack the reading comprehension to understand the difference between an actual opinion and a phrase being twisted to change the meaning of another phrase.

Lastly, yeah, I am waiting for people with the authority to call what Israel is doing a genocide as since the last ruling on the matter, Israel was not found to be committing genocide at that point in time yet people were screaming their heads off claiming that Israel was.

I like to wait for people who have the authority because they are more knowledgeable than me. Do you believe that the earth is flat because people scream online that it is? Or do you go by what people who have the relevant qualifications say on the matter which is that the earth is round?

The reason why it's antisemitic to call Israel genocidal, is because the current official rule on the matter is that they are not doing genocide and that false claims of jews being murderous is an antisemitic trope. Like legitimately, it is an antisemitic trope in the proto of elder zion, an infamous antisemitic book. Jews have been plagued for centuries with claims of using children's blood, which is false and antisemitic. I am not going to apologize for calling out the same age old antisemitic tropes repackaged for the modern day

[foggyinphx]

Jumble of thoughts - Huh???? Edition

We live in the worst timeline, y'all... let me get some thoughts out of the way before I get to that elephant in the room:

I will say this is the most interesting the side characters have been all season. Sheila's guilty betrayal of the commissioner. Daniel going full Fisk Jr evil. Heather officially joining the dark side.

On-purpose blackout leading to martial law leading to Matt and his band of merry vigilantes sets up a good premise for season 2

Kirsten gets to take the legal reins on the Red Hook loophole. Hopefully that will actually come to fruition and not happen entirely off-screen

Hated the slo-mo in the apartment fight. Liked the banter/arguing between Matt and Frank.

I dooo nooot care about Karedevil/Kastle and am high key annoyed at how much those scenes kept circling back to it. And frankly I'm not sorry if that hurts anyones feelings.

I'm glad Matt flat out said he didn't know who he was without Foggy. It's exactly how Foggy felt in season 3. They are two halves of one whole. Nelson and Murdock. Avocados at Law.

Ok... back to the elephant:

WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS. I knew it was a bad sign when he wasn't in the credits and then.... aaaaaagghhhhhhhh!!

There are two things keeping me going right now. (Although I totally don't blame anyone who rage quits at this point and nopes out of watching season 2.) Point One: Elden is confirmed for season 2. That's a flat out fact. I'll take him no matter what the context is, I genuinely don't care at this point. Pont Two: I do enjoy watching Charlie. He's very good.

But back to point one: if it's just for flashbacks, flashbacks to WHAT???? What part of this narrative would be served by flashbacks? None of it that I can tell. If it's for dreams, Matt has faced head first his issues at the end of this episode, again, what narrative purpose would it serve? Finally, if it's hallucinations, half of that theory hinges on Matthew Lillard being cast as Mr Fear, which is still completely unknown 🙄. Get back to me when factual information supports it, good grief.

One more thing: Vanessa asked Dex to kill Benny AND Foggy. DEX DIDN'T KILL BENNY. Why? And we still don't know why Dex shot Foggy in the chest! If the answer is genuinely "because the writers needed to create tension for the fight", that's literally the laziest, stupidest writing decision they could have made. I HAVE to believe this many professional writers wouldn't be that stupid and couldn't write their way out of a situation literally ALL OF THEM DIDN'T WANT.

Sorry, I need to go scream into a pillow...

[saveahorserideaneddie]

okay no bc i actually need to see abuela having a meaningful talk with christopher about how shannon wasn’t a good mother and that he’s old enough to know the truth rather than eddie just over-romanticizing the whole thing

christopher does not need to be shamed for being upset at his mom leaving. the whole “she didn’t leave, she died 🥺” argument is just factually untrue when she fully intended to leave again before she had her accident

he does not need to be coddled and told about how hard it was for her when she was actively being just as ableist as ramon and helena. he is 13 years old; if he can make a decision on where he lives, he can hear the truth of how awful his mother was so that maybe he can actually provide sufficient context to the actions his dad has taken

yes, she was very young when christopher was born, and no eddie was not a perfect husband/father in the beginning; but the point is she didn’t even give him a chance to even begin processing his PTSD when he cane back, immediately vilifying him for everything before doing the same exact thing as what… petty revenge? giving him a taste of his own medicine? you’re an adult woman with a son who needed you and you walked out on him because you didn’t want the stress. okay, that’s fine, that’s your choice

but don’t show up once he’s older demanding to see him because “he’s my son too” and then proceeding to shame eddie, the one who HAS been there for him after you left, for something he already has made clear he regrets, and has also atoned for by stepping up and actually taking responsibility rather than shirking them the moment it got ‘too hard’ when his parents would have been more than willing to let him do

and then to try and manipulate him with the whole “he’s my son” “we can be a family again” bullshit as a way to get back into his pants— only to dip as soon as things start to get serious again?

and on top of that, the “she was just a girl” argument doesn’t even hold up because yeah, she WAS just a girl. she’s not just a girl anymore. she’s a grown adult woman shirking her responsibility because she doesn’t want to be a mother. That’s all well and good; she doesn’t have to be a mother. But once you make that decision, don’t go crawling back acting like you weren’t the one to actively decide to leave. You’re an adult, making adult decisions, and you need to handle the adult consequences of those adult decisions.

sorry no one will ever be able to convince me to like shannon and im sick of the writers trying to force rose tinted glasses on her existence bc of tim’s obsession with bringing devin back out of nowhere every two seconds

anyway sorry for the shannon rant i saw thay post i reblogged and it just reminded me how much anger i hold towards her for everything she did and how i hate it when people are like “oh she changed she wanted to try again 🥺” when she quite literally didn’t, as is evident by the way she immediately tried to run away again the moment she had to be an adult.

also there is no way buck would EVER look at the way she treated chris and eddie and then actively be friends with her. friend-ly maybe, civil at best, but he would never look at the lasting hurt she caused those two and actively chose to persue a friendship with her.

anyway getting off my anti-shannon soap box and i just needed to get that off my chest lamo

[dukeofdelirium]

This has to quite possibly be the dumbest Anti-Aang I’ve seen on Tumblr. “Aang didn’t go out of his way for anyone”. Like that’s objectively wrong, factually incorrect. Like saying The Earth is flat, you can think it all you want, but it ain’t true. I ask you, I genuinely ask you, how can someone call themselves a fan of this show when they completely misinterpret it and hate the main character this much? This person’s crazy.

Aang never went out of his way for anyone? My god, if this take were true, Zuko would have been dead at the end of season one. Everyone aside from Aang was fine with the idea of allowing Zuko to freeze to death, leaving him to die. Aang was the one that saved him.

Holy shit, the first thing Aang ever offered to do with no expectation of anything in return was to offer Sokka and Katara a ride home before they died themselves stranded in the tundra. He then offered to take Katara to the other side of the world to fulfill her dreams. When he was banished from her village, he left without protest and even said he didn’t want to come between Katara and her family. Even when he was sad to leave because he had just made a first friend in who knows how long (seeing as we know he was ostracized at the temple), he still left.

He then came back not to break the banishment but to save their lives. He offered himself up, LITERALLY sacrificed himself for them, with no expectation of anything in return.

Aang is an extremely compassionate, good natured person. He is the most “altruistic” character in the show, followed only by Katara who comes nearly as close (one of the reasons they are so good together).

He singlehandedly put the fires out on Kyoshi Island that ZUKO SETS, he protects the NWT from invasion in every possible way he can and singlehandedly wipes out their fleet when he gives himself over to the ocean spirit, he demands they search for Bumi NOT because he needs a teacher but because bumi is his FRIEND! He saves everyone in the cave by making sure they don’t get fucking crushed with its collapse, he is willing to sacrifice himself and force himself into the Avatar State to win the war because he is that guilt ridden even when the AS is extremely painful and traumatizing to him, he stops this only when it affects Katara because he loves her, he offers to let Toph run away with them not because he wants to use her as a teacher but because he listened to her life story and wishes to help her feel free, he fucking dies for Katara and sacrificed his own love for her to save her life

he tries to shoulder every burden he feels on his own as a means to protect the other characters

he supports Sokka when he voices insecurities, he is welcoming and friendly to Hakoda and even inquires about how Katara is feeling when he meets Hakoda, he sobs during the eclipse invasion because Katara and Sokka have to be separated from their father again and Aang blames himself for this defeat and is grief stricken because he is so upset they are losing their dad again (and he thinks it’s his fault)

Why the actual fuck would Katara ever “choose” Zuko over Aang?

Katara was never deeply tied to Zuko. She always saw him as an enemy trying to take away the boy she loved. This is why she threatened to fucking kill him.

Zuko helped his sister murder Aang right in front of Katara’s eyes. It was canonically the darkest period of her life.

Katara’s anger and hatred toward Zuko is 100% justified. Of course, Zuko is a self absorbed ass, so he claims her anger isn’t justified and that she’s just projecting. Her anger toward him specifically had far more to do with what he did to Aang and far less to do with what the Fire nation and Zuko’s family did to her mother. Even still, she’s right to be angry about her mother’s murder too, and Zuko’s piece of shit family is responsible.

Why the fuck would Katara magically drop to her knees and suck Zuko’s dick? He’s literally a colonizer for over 2/3 of the show. He didn’t just have a passive role, he was an active player in the war and invaded the NWT with the FN as a means to capture Aang and take him back to his daddy, where Aang would have undoubtedly been tortured mercilessly and kept on the brink of death. He assaulted Katara during this and knocked her unconscious, he taunted her with shitty words and undermined her bending ability and threw some racial/classist remarks as well as some misogynistic ones her way.

When he eventually did get his shit together and join the group, he just used her mother’s death against her and Sokka because that’s all he ever did in regards to Katara and Sokka’s mother. He learned how she died, then had Sokka divulge trauma to then use said trauma to try and force Katara to forgive him by persuading her to go on a suicide mission of revenge and bloodlust. He also literally mocked Aang’s culture and genocided people to his face, when his family committed the genocide. Oh, and he also mocked Aang’s forgiveness despite begging on his damn hands and knees for that very forgiveness like 3 episodes prior.

And then at the end of the episode, Zuko states himself that he legit doesn’t understand Katara or what she needs in life. Cuz of course he doesn’t. He isn’t a survivor of genocide, he hasn’t suffered ethnic cleansing, he isn’t oppressed. For fucks sake, his mother isn’t even dead and he gets reunited with her a few years after the canon shows timeline. Everything Zuko loses, he has returned to him. His honor, his right to the throne, his mother.

But tell me again how Katara and Aang are a bad match when they are the only two who will ever truly understand the other

[curufiin]

u have been gracing my dash w curufin/eol today and i must admit i have never rly thought about them.... but i am interested.... do u have any thoughts and or content to share

HELLO SORRY FOR ANSWERING LATE I got a bit carried away + had to drive for a few hours but. Yes i do >:)

woe! Bullet points be upon ye!

So first off I actually think it’s super interesting that Curufin knows Eöl by name. Curufin has absolutely no reason to know any of the Sindar save some of the royals, and clearly Eöl was living in Nan Elmoth for quite a while before the Noldor showed up in East Beleriand, which means further that Curufin literally would have no way of knowing him realistically.

Except this curious coincidence: Curufin’s knife was gifted to him by Telchar, a dwarf of Nogrod (in other sources it was a dwarf of Belegost, but the point is Curufin is clearly buddy buddy with the dwarves). Curufin also speaks fluent Khuzdul: “…but Curufin was most interested in the alien language of the Dwarves, being the only one of the Noldor to win their friendship. It was from him that the loremasters obtained such knowledge as they could of the Khuzdul.” (Peoples of Middle Earth) (i’m so fucking obsessed with this too just saying. oh curufin…)

Eöl was also, notably, a dwarf friend: “Now the traffic of the Dwarves down from the Blue Mountains followed two roads across East Beleriand, and the northern way, going towards the Fords of Aros, passed nigh to Nan Elmoth; and there Eöl would meet the Naugrim and hold converse with them. And as their friendship grew he would at times go and dwell as guest in the deep mansions of Nogrod or Belegost.” (Of Maeglin)

We can also assume that Curufin was likely a guest in dwarven halls as well, since the Dwarves were notoriously secretive about their language. If they let some elf learn it to the point where he is the de facto Dwarf Language Guy for literally everything we know about Khuzdul, it’s more than likely Curufin’s stayed in their cities too.

But wait… zoom in. See that? Eöl dwelled in Nogrod. Which dwarven city did Telchar come from? Nogrod. Hmmmmmmm……

And so begins their fated meeting…

I think Curufin was actually pretty amicable with Eöl at first. He knew literally no one else who shared his interest in Khuzdul, and I don’t think Maedhros was really all that notable of a dwarf friend, at least not in the sense of whatever dwarf autism Curufin has. So he was pretty excited to meet a guy who also thinks these people are amazing and cool.

Maybe Eöl shared the same sentiments! Maybe he’ll finally meet someone who’s like him. And then he learns this is The Kinslayer Of The Noldor. The Boat Burner (if you HC that only Curufin participated in the ship burnings because of that one line from shibboleth of feanor).

From that day forward, they hated eachother forever.

Okay onto actual shippy thoughts LOL. Tbh I like my ships to be funny and lighthearted because it’s just more fun that way. Curufin can’t stand Eöl but also he has to admit that Eöl is, factually speaking, a talented smith. His real obsession with Eöl began when he found out Eöl invented a metal.

What???!?!?!?!? INVENTED A METAL?????? He can’t get out-smithed by some fucking Sinda loser who lives in a forest and kidnaps wives for fun!!!! So he spends a LOT of time in Nogrod trying to snoop around and find out how Eöl made his metal and how he could possibly recreate it but maybe better.

Also the dwarves absolutely know these two have some kind of fucked up homoerotic tension and they constantly bet on who’s going to say something weirdly gay or if they’ll get together or not etc etc. They think it’s the funniest shit ever. Neither ot them are aware of this

The worst part for Curufin is that Eöl is absolutely his type. Tall elf?? High kin of the Teleri???? Noble but grim of face?????? Piercing eyes that can see deep into shadow and dark places?!?!?!!?! God just fuck him already

I also hc curufin as being in denial about the fact he is gay LMAO so there’s another thing. he’s so into eol but he can’t even admit it because that would mean… nay… he shall not think about it…

Unfortunately for Curvo he’s stared at Eöl weirdly far too many times and maybe caught Eöl in a more casual smithing outfit with his sleeves rolled up and his chiseled arms out and ohh my god……….

Celegorm hates EVERYTHING about this btw. The SECOND he found out Curufin was into this guy he was ready to dropkick his brother into the sun

I have an AU with some friends where Aredhel books it from Nan Elmoth by herself and Curufin ends up there somehow and basically becomes Eöl’s new divorced spouse and they argue every single day. But that’s also how they flirt

Also I think Curufin is the exact right type of obnoxious for Eöl because Curufin is actually not that tall or menacing nor does he have Fëanor’s presence. He’s just some lanky short guy who thinks he’s tough shit and it’s both fascinating to watch and infuriating to be around. And worst of all Curufin is 1. Feminine 2. Good looking 3. Vaguely Looks Like Aredhel If You Pretend He Isn’t A Guy

And omg he has these beautiful curls and eyes that shine like stars and an intensity about him and Wow He Wants To Smash Curvo With Hammers

Yeah this is my ideal eol/curufin dynamic LMAO they’re in love. they can’t stand eachother. eol is curufin’s beloathed and curufin is eol’s boyfiend. They are not gay.

Also in said AU Eol is nicer to Celebrimbor than he is to Maeglin which… yeah…….

@maironsbigboobs wrote this fic about these two and augrhhhhh it’s so!!! It’s so good!!! And this one!!!!! Actually you should just go read heather’s eol hcs bc it turned me from an eol hater to an eol lover

AGHHHHHHH

I think these lines describe them best: “It filled Eöl with the overwhelming desire to possess him, to hoard him away like the treasure of a great king.” // “But... he found himself reluctant to flee. It was not that he was fond of Eöl, no, but he would miss the company of a fellow craftsman. None in Himlad could have the same long conversations on metal properties and shaping methods. He had friends among the Dwarves who could, but they were Eöl’s friends too, and he would hate for murder to come between him and Telchar’s kin. Yes. He stayed for politics, nothing else.”

They’re just so… fucking delusional…….

Also @littlewhitemouseagain wrote this incredible fic that i also indulged in and oh my GOD it’s so fucking good. Like. this is THE fic i would send you if you said show me one and only one fic to convince me curufin/eol is great actually. i mean shit i rarely read fic that isn’t written by friends but this is genuinely amazing so. Please read it!!! It fits my vision of eol and curufin exactly!! I can’t stand them!!! I’m gonna lose my mind HAHAHA

Okay post over pack it up boys i wish i had art to show but man even drawing angbang took my soul and then some LOL maybe i’ll have real ship art one day… but you can always snoop at my curvo and eol threads with heather i welcome all snooping

EDIT: OKAY WAIT ONE MORE BULLET but for more Serious Ship Lovers: basically their whole thing is that they’re Really similar to eachother and Curufin Loves people who are like him (and so does Eöl given. Everything about him). And they’re drawn in by both fascination with the other and also mutual hatred except i think both of them are Very possessive. When Curufin loves someone he needs to Have Them Forever. he can’t stand the idea of not being someone’s absolute favorite and biggest priority in life. Eöl also happens to be crazy possessive to the point of murder. But they’re also toxic and awful to eachother and mean and hate admitting their faults. Except they’re also just so obviously messed up that yeah… There’s a lot to work with if you like fucked up angbang style ships >:)

[carionto]

Humans and Boredom II

The planet cracker.

A devilish name that somehow still does not do this type of Human ship justice. Arrays of massive gravity hooks capable of tearing out kilometers wide and deep chunks of mass from any celestial object one of them decides to settle in orbit of.

The process is slow and tedious and, luckily, unsuitable for any practical military application, but unimaginably rewarding nonetheless. Once a chunk has been lifted, a fleet of harvester drones meticulously tears it further apart and separates into individual minerals and any other categorizable substances. From there the internal refineries of the planet cracker process them further into more usable metals, alloys, resins, and countless other resources. Finally, another fleet of transport ships ferry those back to where they are needed.

The land based production capacity of an entire (small) planet, with a single (albeit metropolis sized) ship, crewed by no more than a hundred Humans and thousands of drones.

One of these immense beasts - The Hardy Gal - was stationed around one of Saturn's moons - Epimetheus - that was recently voted out of the global popularity contest "Who's Even Heard of This One?" and thus sentenced to become part of the Dyson Ring.

The drone fleet that was supposed to be tearing up the unfortunate little moon, however, was recently recalled for refitting after a report showed a key part was manufactured using an outdated guideline by a suspiciously licensed corporation, that was also caught up in an unrelated embezzlement scandal.

Suffice to say that chief Gravity Master Boris Fruischtyen didn't have much to do. Laws and regulations do not permit any unsupervised extraction results to just be left in orbit. Oh no, can't preemptively arrange chunks for processing later, nope, "efficiency? what's that?". *sigh* Lift, hold, harvest, repeat.

Boris would have nothing to do, except the gravity hook arrays were a set of fifty per array, and The Hardy Gal had eight arrays. Four hundred individually aim-able and moveable chunks of matter.

While his day job was not very productive for now, his social media activity shot through the roof. There's a lot you can draw with four hundred "pixels" and the literal cosmos as your canvas and backdrop.

His personal favorites were water features and creatures set against the blue of Saturn, and he arranged quite a few of the extinct whales and penguins too. Additionally, every day he would fulfill one of the audiences top ranking requests.

Through these he discovered he has a fascinatingly good sense for flower compositions, especially from unusual angles. It's odd. He's only ever seen flowers in images and videos, perhaps lacking actual real life flowers to compare to allows his imagination to fill in the gaps in a way referencing factual knowledge would limit him. Who knows.

Despite having access to a three dimensional canvas, he preferred to keep things flat.

"What can I say, 2D is better. *chuckle*"

However, that doesn't mean he keeps things simple. The gravity hooks are quite good at selective manipulation, they have to be to target certain spots beneath a whole lot of other matter (which is then raised alongside the "elevator" matter). He demonstrated how the same image can look wildly different if you just change the "pixels" from squares to spheres, or how certain material compositions change color when squeezed more densely.

His personal favorite part is the finishing touch. After he's had a drone go out and stream his latest piece from plenty of angles for the viewers, he gives the whole image a simultaneous and gentle push back towards the moon. After a few touching hours of people in chat saying farewell, sharing personal stories and just asking questions Boris is always happy to answer, the image impacts the surface where the majority of parts were extracted from in a spectacular show of minor impacts and a shower of debris. Too bad it doesn't have an atmosphere, just imagine how cool it'd look burning up on reentry.

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

Sorry this was late! I like being superfluous as much as the next wizard, but writing as Gale was like flexing those extra verbose muscles (talking a lot clearly does not equate to having a dense vocabulary).

Song of the chapter! (I liked it because it's very Gale coded to me)

On AO3 (for registered users only because of that one douche bag)

Ch. 18: Woven Together.

- The Missing Prince - Toll the Gnolls - Dinner with Abbi

[Gale Note: Thank you for your patience as I attempted to find a passage fitting your parameters. I hope this will encourage you to continue to include my excerpts. I went through a great deal of work to get all of this down in vast detail originally, but I will oblige you by adding introspection and 'flair'. I was much better suited for factual over dramatic. Alas, I do find the direction you seem to be taking this quite captivating. I've enjoyed all the samples you have sent with some exceptions.]

Gale POV -

The tieflings were a gregarious lot, one which I found quite heartening. We had a long journey ahead from what Zevlor had relayed, but it didn't seem impossible. There was a wariness about Halsin as the tieflings' leader spelled out the route for the group. We would travel what was called the 'Risen Road' which took high ground through the pass, skirting the edges of the Shadowlands. Halsin still urged we find an Underdark entrance, even if we had to loop back, to reach Moonrise. He was sure, from what he had ascertained as the cultists' prisoner, there was a pathway leading through. He was sure this was how they were able to traverse the Shadowlands without harm. 

Zevlor agreed this would be the moment of parting. I noted Abbi listening raptly, a picture of nerves. She seemed to be peeling back an old callus on her thumb with her teeth. I knew the journey alongside Zevlor and the tieflings would be safest and wise, but a selfish part of me hoped there might be a reason yet to keep her around. Even if it meant she would have to brave the shadow curse. 

I hoped she was still ruminating on the feeling of being within my weave, my mind, my body. It was an even greater feeling of connection than which I had planned to share with her at the party. I felt her dive the depths of the orb and not drown under its pressure, but rather gliding through it, sifting the true weave from the darkness.

It had physically hurt, letting her in. But, upon release, I felt a weight lift from my chest just enough to get more of a breath in. The first breath in over a year which didn't feel stolen. One chain of many snapping open.

Then, she wielded. She wielded on instinct, much like her son. What only I, the archmage that I am, could see was the appearance of the Dancing Lights before her somatic component completed. She could have simply willed the spells action into existence and the weave would have heeded her command. There was something rare about her. A thing I determined to uncover and to cultivate.

She had saved me after all. I was destined for a proverbial execution and possibly a literal one, if certain companions had their way. Her words echoed through me, "I need him, even if you don't." 

Only if Mystra had felt similarly. 

We carefully stepped through the rubble of the small village. Dead bodies of drow, goblins, Flaming Fist, and civilians were scattered about in different forms of decay. 

"Should we bury them?" Abbi had her nose pinched between two fingers. She looked rather disgusted and not disposed to acquiesce to her own request.

It did smell rank. This mess was the remnants of the raid those at the temple had been celebrating, which was a full week ago. A group of vultures were excavating different bodies, scavenging what they could for their decadent suppers. 

I watched as Lia turned around to snap at one of the tiefling children who had snuck past the gates, "You shouldn't have to be told twice! Stay with the others. Now!"

Several popped out from around the corner huffing together as they made their way back to the larger group waiting outside of Waukeen's Rest. They were a mischievous group. I smiled to myself thinking of my escapades at their age. One of those was, hopefully, safely resting in my tower and not out searching the world over for something to help me. Even more so, that she was safe at my mother's. She had found me one of the first nights in secret to see if I was alright. I tried to deter her from trying to help, which failed to dissuaded her. 

I realized I should probably summon her to make sure she was staying put. The idea of introducing her to Abbi delighted my heart. They both shared a similar steeliness to them. Also, Tara's curiosity about Abbi's world would keep them both talking for hours. I couldn't help picturing them both cuddled up on sofa out on my tower's portico as the sun set over the water. 

I turned as Wyll read through a letter from a Flaming Fist, seemingly troubled by its contents. Wyll glanced around as he pocketed the letter, then made his way into the large inn at the back of the village. No one else seemed to notice, so I trailed after our warlock. I slowly crept up the charred staircase as I watched Wyll slip into a room at the end of the landing. When I stepped over the pile of beams and into the suite, I found Wyll hunched over on his knees, weeping silently. 

I nearly turned back, giving the young man some privacy for his emotions, whatever the cause. Then, I remembered the loneliness of my own grief and strife, and made my way over. 

"Wyll?" 

He flashed back at me in surprise. "Oh, Gale, I didn't even hear you." He gave a wet sniff, wiping at his face with his gloved hands. He wiped again when a snot trail dragged. "Do you need something?"

"No, no, I'm quite alright, but it seems you aren't. May I ask what happened?" I asked carefully, squatting beside him.

He held up a pin. It was a High House crest. I didn't recognize it, but Wyll must as he held it close. 

"Is that the crest of House Ravengard?" 

Neither of us had heard him enter. He likely used his Shadow Step. Though, I did wonder if he hadn't started using Spider Climb. Granted, if he had tried the latter, we would likely never hear the end of it. He could still walk on silent feet, so he could have followed me as I followed Wyll. 

Astarion stood over us, hands on his hips, brow in the air as he waited on an answer.

Wyll steeled, pushing whatever sorrow I'd witnessed into his depths, "It is the crest of House Ravengard."

"Pray tell, why were you weeping over it? I understand you're Baldurian, but I wasn't aware a vagabond from the wilds had any connections to nobility." Astarion crossed his arms as a smug grin rose his lips.

Wyll stood as he stuffed the pin in his pocket. "It's none of your business who I'm acquainted with." He turned to head back the way he came.

Astarion hummed, "I remember the rumors of the Ulder's missing son. They even had a bounty out for his rescue."

Wyll stopped. He turned back to us, his jaw twitching. I stood up, observing the exchange. 

Astarion picked at his nails. He seemed to do so whenever he was about to say something rather nasty. "Sadly, he was never found. Requests were placed in the paper for over two years." Astarion locked eyes with a tense Wyll,  "They eventually had to print his eulogy." 

Wyll's bottom lip wiggled slightly. He swallowed.

Astarion tipped his head curiously, assuming an absolute teasing stance, and pointed casually in Wyll's direction. "You don't happen to be Wylliam Ravengard, the missing Ulder's son? Do you?"

Wyll's eyes were moons. He fumbled to find words. He, finally, sighed heavily, consigned to the truth. "Yes, my story is one of two men. The Blade of Frontiers and Wyll Ravengard, the son of a grand duke."

A vicious grin spread across Astarion's face, "I'm owed 20,000 gold pieces."

Wyll rolled his eyes, "20... That makes it seem like I'm more a fugitive than a missing son."

"Should be chump change for someone like your father," Astarion said bemused.

Wyll's lip quivered again. "If we find him..." he whispered.

Both of us gazed on in confusion. He held up the pin. "Only two people in all of Faerun have this pin. One of them has it in his pack and the other was stripped of it during a raid."

My eyes flew open. The Ulder had been the high-ranking official taken to Moonrise. 

"Why would they want the Ulder?" Astarion considered while watching Wyll.

Wyll shrugged, "He's the head of the Flaming Fist, who better to take than the one whom the entire city depends on for their safety?"

"Would they kill him?" I ventured.

Wyll sat quiet for a moment, thinking. He shook his head, "No, they have something far more devious in mind. They need him to take control. I'm just not sure how."

A chill spread down my spine. This Absolute Cult was getting more and more dangerous the closer we crept to it. Moonrise was starting to look more like a death trap than a cure. Though, Halsin hadn't promised a cure, but simply answers.

I looked to the other two. "Looks like we have something else to add to the to-do list when we get to Moonrise."

Stray tears fell from Wyll's eyes. To my surprise, Astarion didn't object. He looked over at Wyll and nodded. Another Baldurian who would know the cost of a life of someone like Ulder Ravengard's.

We made our way back to the others who seemed content from what they had pilfered from the village. The tieflings had acquired another ox to help with the wagons. 

And off we went.

It was a short trip. The, once, very large wooden bridge was completely collapsed and in cinders with more dead bodies of Flaming Fist patrolmen scattered about.

Lae'zel stood over the single githyanki among the dead. "The creche must be close," she stated. "It must be over the ridge."

"What happened here?" Shadowheart asked, looking around. 

Lae'zel looked vainglorious, "Clearly a dragon."

Quite a few people turned to look at her smug face in abject terror. 

Halsin, Zevlor, Durge, and Abbi were all standing around the back of a cart, a large map spread out on the back. I stepped up behind Abbi, "Can I be of assistance?"

She turned over her shoulder, eyeing me, "If you can magically repair a massive bridge, be my guest."

"Maybe without the tadpole or the orb, but alas, I will have to bear my burdens."

She huffed, "It would have been a sight to see you at your peak." She shrugged, "That's if you're not exaggerating."

Durge chuckled a little. 

I smiled at her softly, "You tell me. You've reached into the depth of my powers. Do you think me potentially capable of all that I claim?" 

She didn't smile back, but considered me thoughtfully, "Yes."

I noted Durge glancing at me, his large reptilian brow creasing. "What of me?" he asked her. 

Her mouth opened, then closed, watching him apprehensively. "I..."

The next few moments happened quickly. The unnatural screeches pierced the air as arrows soared past our faces, some making impact. Screams of a frightened crowd echoed in the small valley. 

I followed the line of sight from the others to see all along the wooden walkway above us, heading back towards Waukeen's Rest, was a large group of gnolls. A larger one with a headdress blew into a horn, the others howling their reply. 

Then, they descended. 

The different wielders cast shields, walls of vines, and other defenses. Adults shuffled the children back onto what was left of the bridge, slamming a wagon sideways, becoming a wall between them and the gnolls. We shot off rays of attack, doing our best to miss each other in the chaos. There was so much movement, I could barely keep track of my own companions. 

A hand gripped my wrist. I snapped over at Abbi's blood flecked face. She noticed my examination. 

"Not mine. Are you ready?"

I looked on in confusion, then the floodgates burst open between us. I gasped a breath as my power tied us together. I felt her essence as if she were just another piece of myself.

We were. We are. We ever would be, it seemed. I could still see and interact with the world around me, but I was more than simply my own. I felt her sifting again through the dread hollow that was me.

"Get in close!" she yelled to those around us as we backed into the wagon. 

Others took last shots to fend off incoming gnolls as we retreated. I didn't know what she was planning. 

I felt her search my mind for a defense that would keep the whole group safe. A dome. An impenetrable wall. Then, I felt a harsh pull on the weave within me. Sylas grabbed his mother's hand, channeling her. I looked over at Abbi. 

Her eyes were the color of the weave itself. 

As more gnolls charged our way, an intense burst of magic exploded out of the three of us. A large iridescent dome covered everyone: a more powerful version of the Globe of Invulnerability. 

A thump sounded as a gnoll crashed into it, then fell to the ground in a heap. It was up in an instant, slamming its axe into the barricade. I felt the impact shake through me. Abbi was cringing, but Sylas glared out at the enemy. 

Rolan squeezed through some of the crowd around us, "Gale, can I help?"

I nodded, "Grab Sylas' hand and let him take from you. I don't know how much longer I can share with the two of them."

He nodded back, grabbing the young boy's hand. I felt Rolan in an instant. He had bragged a bit about his power at the grove, but I threw him among the many ambitious mages who believe themselves big fish in small ponds. He was a sea of power. It strengthened my own. I felt it feed a bit of the raging darkness and hoped he would forgive me. 

Then, a large hand slipped into my other and I looked up into the face of Halsin. His magic mixing with ours. 

"Incredible," he whispered. His magic felt like sunshine and the land itself. It was, most literally, divine. Being Silvanus' chosen wasn't hyperbole. I glanced up at him and he nodded in return as I felt more and more waves of impact against the dome. 

Another form of divine magic slipped into the blending sea. Shadowheart had locked hands with Rolan. The iridescence turned gold and radiant. Now, whenever a gnoll slammed itself into the dome, it would burn against the radiance surrounding us. It was an incredulous sight. Abbi's eyes now glowed like the sun. She was the one concentrating on the spell while the rest of us simply powered her. 

Slam after slam, arrow after arrow, spell after spell shot at our defenses as we watched on. I wish the dome had discouraged the attack, but they just kept at it, unrelenting, for what felt like hours. I watched the sun move in the sky. I could feel us all growing weaker. We couldn't stay like this much longer. 

Zevlor and a few tieflings with combat experience, Durge, Wyll, Halsin, and Lae'zel all fiercely discussed different plans for when the dome eventually fell. Others brought each of us stuff to sit on. 

Then, we all felt it. It was a hiccup in the magical connection. Abbi's hiccup. She was fading. She was channeling the power of six others, her son as an amplifier. He was drooping, a visual example of how the rest of us felt too. A ripple rolled through the dome and a slice of a sword cut through, encouraging the gnolls again. 

The one who had gotten lucky was then sliced in half by the radiant shield as it pulled back into place with a hiss from each of us. It was now painful to keep up. 

My eyes locked with Zevlor and his mouth turned down. We were running out of time and out of energy. Others who were wounded had been hiding out behind the wagons with the children. We were weak against the gnolls.

A whistle sounded in the distance. Our attentions were drawn back up to the wooden walkway as a group of people appeared. There were at least ten of them from what I could quickly gather. In moments of seeing our predicament, they began attacking the gnolls around us. 

Gnolls aren't particularly intelligent creatures and they were severely confused by where they should be attacking. Some still tried to penetrate the sphere while others ran up to try and attack the newcomers. It splintered them, giving the new enemies an advantage. They made quick work of the dogs. 

The last one fell and I gasped in air as I felt the magical connection cut short. The last thing I saw was Abbi watching me, her head cocked in an odd angle.

Then everything went black.

My eyes creaked open as if I had been asleep for a full night. I swallowed nothing down my parched throat. I hadn’t felt this level of ache since… Since I broke open the book that changed my whole life’s trajectory. 

I shifted slightly, bumping someone. I rubbed my eyes with my thumbs, taking in Abigail’s profile. 

"Abbi?" I croaked.

She flipped to me, "Oh, Gale, thank god." 

My heart beat faster as her palm found itself flush with the tattoo on my chest. I looked down to note someone had taken the time to remove my robe, boots, and shirt. I could feel my pants underneath the blanket. 

I eyed her, "What happened?"

Her brow creased, "What do you remember?"

The last thing I remembered was seeing her amber eyes again. "You looking at me oddly, then nothing."

"Okay, but you remember everything before that?" she asked.

I nodded, "You were incredible."

I couldn’t decipher the look she gave me. She looked concerned, like I’d spoken out of turn, but she wasn’t upset.

"Did you hear what I said?" I asked curiously.

She nodded, but sat back up to look at her hands, "Shadowheart said you almost died."

I watched her carefully, but I kept quiet, letting her tell the rest of the story.

"She said because I channeled so much of you, your magic ended up feeding on your life force. She said if you hadn’t had the orb, it wouldn’t have affected you like this, but since the orb already weakened you… She and Halsin had to use several healing potions and spells to keep your heart rate up." She huffed a defeated laugh. "They even had Astarion sit inside your tent to listen to it while they helped heal the others who were injured."

"I bet he adored being my guardian," I quipped.

A corner of her lips tipped, then she glanced over at me again. "He wasn't patient about it, but I kept him company. He's the reason you’re alive."

"Couldn’t Withers just bring me back? Not to mention, I have a magical revival protocol as well."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Of course you do."

I tapped her back playfully. "Tell me, though. What was it like to channel six people?"

She turned to me, her face a collection of awe and fear, "It was… overwhelming." Her eyes were glassy for a moment, likely thinking back on it. She looked at me again, "I feel like I’m using you up. You can’t refresh your weave as well as everyone else."

"I know," I said kindly. I wrapped my hand around her wrist, rubbing her with a thumb. "I would let you take it all. There is something legendary inside of you. Something that will be written into epics. I had my time and, now, my magic is waning. You are pulling it into yourself and making it something more again. I was capable of so much, but today – is it still today?"

She nodded. "You were out for a few hours. I’ve got some dinner leftovers for you when you're up for it."

I smiled softly, "Thank you. Today you created something that doesn’t exist. With your gifts, because that is what they are, a gift. You composed the weave with your will. You blended three different types of weave into a new kind that created something spectacular."

She didn’t seemed happy about it.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, "I’m not supposed to be here. Sylas and I aren’t supposed to be here… I’m probably messing up some weird time continuum. Messing with your magic. Introducing the microwave before it’s needs to exist. Who knows who’s kid isn’t going to be born because I was here to protect someone or let someone die because I ended up on Toril."

I couldn’t stop the hearty laughter that escaped. The utter nonsense of her not existing in my world was the most outrageous thing I had ever heard. She belonged here as much as I did. 

"What?" she finally asked.

"You belong. If you belong anywhere, at least let it be here with me, right now. I got to see something new today. I got to witness magic at its purest, at your hand no less." I tightened my grip, but kept it soft. I was starting to find comfort in the disconnection. Maybe, I had never truly known internal peace. "Could you do anything like this on Earth?"

"Hell no," she laughed. “Magic was illusion and in dead religions or stories. It's not real.”

"Are you sure?"

She stared at me, "Not anymore."

I grinned, "But, how did it make you feel? To wield it? To master it?"

Her jaw tightened, "Amazing."

A broad smile filled my face, that was more like it. "That is what it is to channel the weave."

She grinned softly, then twisted in her seat to face me fully. "How do you feel, speaking of?"

"Like shit."

We both laughed hard enough I choked up a little, coughing it out. She was cringing. 

I held up a hand as I cleared my throat, "I'm fine, Halsin and Shadowheart are excellent healers."

She sighed through her nose. 

I let go of her wrist and patted her hand. "What happened after my collapse?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Zhentarim saw us and saved the day. They were the ones who took on the gnolls. Apparently, they have a hideout nearby. They said it let out into the Underdark and that we're welcome to use it."

"That's good news," I said, placing my hands together on my chest, listening.

"Sort of. Zevlor doesn't think it's wise to try to get the tieflings to go underground. He thinks it's more dangerous in the Underdark. Halsin kept trying to tell him about the seriousness of taking the path through the Shadowlands instead of around it, but Zevlor is scared."

"So the others are too."

She nodded. "Some started to agree with Halsin, but Rogan - I mean Rugan," she shook her head, "I'm not sure. Either way, I think he was trying to help, but kind of made it worse by saying there was a someone leading caravans through safely with lanterns and torches for a fee. One of their people is already at Moonrise and a few were set to join her, so he offered to give Zevlor some extra coin to pay the ferryman to get them not just to Moonrise, but across completely, sending his people with them. Swore up and down it was fine and that he'd been there himself not that long ago."

"Well, that does sound promising."

She pursed her lips, "Halsin says that he's been to the Underdark many times and it's harmless in comparison. He says the shadows eat people and turn them into the undead. Rugan rolled his eyes and was like 'Well, if you're not a dumbass and don't use a torch'." A humorous gleam flecked in her eyes, "I thought Halsin was going to turn into a bear and eat his face."

"Might have deserved it."

She laughed softly, "True. Mol didn't help either. Zevlor must have saved her or raised her because she pretends like she's independent, but she will do whatever he says and say it was her idea."

I smirked thinking of the boisterous tiefling and her small gaggle of followers.

Her smirk faded, "That had all the kids wanting to go overland. Sylas is begging to go overland. I tried to convince at least Locke and Komira, Arabella's parents, since that would definitely sway Sylas to have Arabella with us. But, they decided to stick with the others. Cal, Lia, and Rolan have been the only ones really pushing joining us. He said he would enchant all the packs to be bags of holding to fit everything so they could leave the wagons. Halsin even agreed to acquire some deep rothe if they needed more oxen. Rugan did say that it was relatively easy to go through with wagons down there. He said there's even a group, who would have to be paid, that could get everyone to this place called Grymforge which would lead right up to a lift with an entrance to the Shadowlands. He said it should be along the edge too, so it would be an easy to exit for them from there. But, Zevlor doesn't like the idea of traversing even a portion without a guide. Also, he doesn't like the idea of it taking longer. The path up to Rosymorn leads right to a gate that begins the Shadowlands. It's a few hours walk and the caravan starting place is supposed to be right there."

"Hasn't Halsin been out there?"

She nodded, "But not in over a hundred years."

I mouthed 'oh'. Being absent that long would deter trust in Halsin as a reliable guide. I watched her as she thought back on the conversations I missed. She was clearly considering her options. 

"What do you want to do?" I ventured.

"Honestly..." She glanced down at me again, "I want to stick with you guys. But, I don't know if that's just my selfish desire to stick with my friends rather than what's safest for Sylas. Halsin promised Lae'zel we would make a stop at the creche despite everyone's reservations since it was confirmed by the Zhents to be a half-day's walk. I don't need to see the creche, so I could go on with Zevlor and the rest, and make it to Baldur's Gate as planned. If we went with you, we would have to stop at Moonrise. I don't even know if I could go. What if they're checking each person who enters to see if they have a tadpole or are official cultists? What if I get there and they want to give me one when they figure out I don't? What if they force one on Sylas?" Her brow creased.

Her concerns were valid. Moonrise would be no place for children. The temple hadn't been safe for even the goblins' children. The gamble was on the caravan and if traversing that way was safest. They could get there only to end up dead. At least our friends could promise safety until we reached Moonrise.

"Well, how long do you have?"

She pinched her nose, "Morning."

I frowned. "I think you know what I would pick. But, my decision definitely comes from a selfish place," I whispered.

Her eyes flashed between mine in dimness. "Gale, I think..." She paused, eyes casting against the tent wall, "How do I put this?"

My heart beat harder, nervous. 

"I think I'm absorbing your weave."

It wasn't what I was expecting. My brow pinched, "What do you mean?"

She swallowed, "I could cast much longer this time after channeling you. Honestly, I might still be able to." She looked into an empty corner, "Fiat Lux." Dancing Lights appeared, swirling around as if celebrating her new abilities.

"Maybe, it is due to the amount of time you were siphoning me?" I pondered.

She shrugged. "I can still feel it inside of me. Like it's waiting. I could feel a little bit after last night, like a kindling. Now, it's like the first few logs have caught." She watched me now, "I think I'm stealing your weave."

I held up a hand, "Give me a moment, I'll be able to tell." I took a deep breath, tried to relax as much as I could in her presence, then centered on my magic. I could feel my weakened weave and the darkness of the orb biting back at my prodding. Though, as I laid there, taking in breaths, I realized, the weight of the orb was again, lifted. 

She was somehow softening the orb's influence. I opened my eyes, "Is there any magical items around I could consume?"

She looked immediately concerned.

"Oh, it's quite alright, I just want to try something. I'm not in any state as I've been previously, but it will still help."

She looked around the tent, landing on me, "Give me a minute." She dashed out of the tent. I could hear her asking around for any spare items. I heard her thank someone. Another asking of me, she replied, but I couldn't understand it. Then, my tent was reoccupied as she tossed me a small ring.

"Oh, I think this contains a small cantrip." I could feel it. It was also inscribed on the inside of the small band. 

"Bottom's up, I guess," she smirked. 

I held the ring to my chest, over the tattoo. Purple light filled the tent, resulting in a small gasp of delight from Abbi. It was bittersweet that the action of saving myself from a deadly curse resulted in beautiful magic. It was a small consolation, though one I had come to take for granted.

I realized instantly, the power had barely absorbed. "Oh, no," I whispered.

Her look of awe twisted to worry, "What?"

"It barely has any effect."

The worry blended with some kind of desperation. "Gale, tell me that we still have time. That there was only little effect because you're already charged up."

I laid silent. 

"Gale, tell me what to do," she said softly.

I shook my head, "I'm not sure. I feel alright, but I usually feel a boost and a lifting. But..." It was as if a lock had clicked open in my mind.

What if she was absorbing my weave, but not The Weave? What if she was absorbing the orb?

I quickly considered what I knew to be true:

1. Abigail could wield well after our cut connection.

2. The orb was a missing piece of Netherese magic, which was assumed to be a part of Mystra's weave, until she rejected it. 

3. Though I could feel the orb within me, I felt relief after being siphoned.

Maybe, the ring's magic didn't heal me because there was much less to feed? The opposite could also be true: I could finally be destabilizing after a long day of being channeled by several people, especially two siphons. My own connection to the true weave could be sucked down to sips, leaving only the ever hungry orb. 

I needed more information to make an educated hypothesis. Then, hopefully, I could put my theory into practice to get answers. Though, if the worst was correct, I would likely not have long enough to find out.

"But what?" she prodded.

"But, I still have a little bit of time. I don't feel on the verge of"

"Erupting?" she interrupted.

I chucked, "Yes, erupting." I sighed and reached for her hand, she gave it. "You need rest too. It's been a long day. Help me sit up and I'll eat my supper."

She watched me a moment, then pulled me to a sitting position. I felt my body creak with stiffness. "Not as young as I used to be," I teased.

She huffed a laugh, I loved making her smile. 

"Go, check on your son. Go talk to others. Get some more advice," I encouraged.

She handed over the plate, then pat my knee, "Sylas has been asleep since right after dinner. Poor guy."

"Tough guy," I said before taking a bite.

She nodded, "Very. But, I do need some time to think about everything."

I grinned through tight lips. She stood up to exit. 

"Oh, and Abigail?"

She turned.

"Thank you, for staying with me." I gave her my best award winning smile.

She lit up a little, "You would have done the same." Then, her absence permeated my tent. My loneliness, palpable. 

IRL Author's Note: Sorry this was late! Needed to set up some lore. The next chapters are several scenes I've been cooking up for a while. *Rubs hands together while pumping eyebrows in your direction*

[femalestyles]

stunt (h.s.)

masterlist

TW: austin

wc: ~2.7k

-

19: birmingham, al

“Can we talk?” Austin asks.

I freeze. For a moment, I pretend I didn’t hear him, my fingers tightening around the strap of my laptop bag as if I can will myself into invisibility. I had been so consumed dealing with Harry and all of his chaos, that Austin had faded into the background. Faded, but not gone. He was always there, lurking in the corner of my mind like a bruise that wouldn’t heal, but I didn’t have to face him.

We hadn’t spoken—really spoken—since that night. That heated night in his hotel room where I’d walked out with my pride barely intact. Since then, we’d kept our distance, not acknowledging each other outside of the occasional judgmental stare. And I’d liked it that way. It was cleaner, easier even.

“I’m busy,” I mutter, not sparing him a glance as I shove my laptop inside my bag with a little more force than necessary. If I don’t look at him, I don’t have to remember the way his eyes used to make my stomach twist. I don’t have to wonder if he regrets what he did, or if he ever cared at all. I don’t have to analyze how much his betrayal affected me, how it made me doubt my own instincts. He could stay small, inconsequential, the equivalent of a task you keep putting off. 

But then his hand moves and hovers above my wrist. Not quite touching, but close enough to make my blood boil. I go still. Every instinct screams at me to yank my arm away, but I don’t. Instead, I stare at his hand, daring him to push his luck.

They say it only takes as much pressure to break a finger as it does to snap a carrot. I wonder if he knows that. I wonder if he realizes how close I am to testing the theory.

“Jules…”

Nicknames can be born from all sorts of places. Sometimes, it’s the way you act, or a standout trait you possess. It’s just a name—two syllables—but it carries decades. In high school, my English teacher would call me Jane, after Jane  because my pieces were always whimsical adventures of a girl free of the weight of the world. In kindergarten, it was Skipper, thanks to a year-long phase where I literally skipped everywhere I went. To my dad, it was his precious Jewel—his shining stone, like a diamond or an emerald. That’s the thing about nicknames; they’re a breadcrumb trail of every person who’s ever claimed to know me.

Jules, to most.

Juli, to some.

Cooper, to one.

I hated how easily it still rolled off Austin’s tongue. Like he still had the right.

“What?” I snap, louder than I mean to, the word bursting out before I can stop it. My bag thuds against the table as I drop it with a huff. His flinch is almost laughable. My head jerks up, and our eyes meet for the first time and I almost roll my eyes. He looks like I’ve physically slapped him.

I guess one Cooper sister already did hit him. Maybe he thought it was a family trait.

His hands twitch at his sides before he shoves them into his pockets. His eyes are wide.

What did he expect? A hug? An “It’s okay, don’t worry about cheating on me!”

The last time we spoke, I told him that I hated him. Not metaphorically. Not implied. I used the word. Hate. If that wasn’t hint enough, then he needed a bigger fucking map. 

“I just…” he starts, and here it comes. That pathetic sigh, the downcast eyes, the sheepish expression that once softened me. It used to work like a charm, easing away my anxieties. Now it only made my irritation grow. “We used to talk. Before we were dating…”

“Before you cheated on me,” I cut in bluntly, not with anger, but like I’m fixing a factual mistake.

His shoulders slump and he lets out a groan. It’s deep, dramatic; the way a teenager does when he’s not getting his way.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he mutters, dragging his hand through his hair. The frustration in his voice is so familiar I could script it. This was the Austin cycle: pout when he’s sad, beg when he’s scared, and when the world doesn’t bend the way he wants it to—throw a tantrum.

“This hating each other thing,” he continues, gesturing vaguely between us, “it’s getting so tiring. We need to be able to work with each other.”

I stare at him. For a second, just a second, I wonder if he actually believes that’s possible. If he really thinks peace is as simple as pretending the knife in my back doesn’t still twist whenever I see him.

“Sorry that my anger has been such an inconvenience for you.” There’s no sympathy in my tone—just quiet venom, the kind that simmers beneath the surface and scorches when it finally bubbles up. I finally turn to face him fully, folding my arms tightly across my chest.

He’s standing a foot away, like he’s testing the waters, unsure how close is too close. His head is bowed, that stupid mop of sandy blonde hair falling into his eyes. His hands disappear into the front pocket of his hoodie, a picture of false humility. He glances up at me through the fringe, all wide-eyed and sorry like he’s the victim here.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost coaxing.

God, he’s good at this. The soft tone, the sheepish posture. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing—I know that now. I’ve seen the teeth behind the smile.

“You made it like this,” I hiss, voice low but lethal as my eyes narrow.

He sighs and drags a hand through his hair. That’s the tell. That nervous, frustrated tic I recognize like the back of my hand. He’s growing frustrated with me, with how much effort it’s taking to talk to me.

There it is. Show me the real you.

“It wasn’t working anymore. You know that,” he groans, his tone shifting from delicate to defensive. 

“Oh, so your solution was to sleep with half the fanbase?” I shoot back, my voice rising now, finally letting some of the fire leak out. There’s a cruel kind of satisfaction when the words land, when I see the way his jaw tenses and his eyes flicker with pain. His mouth opens slightly like he wants to defend himself, to protest that it wasn’t like that, but nothing comes. 

“Can we please just have a civil conversation?” he says finally, voice tight. He inhales deeply, grounding himself. This is his attempt at taking control, at rewriting history. Deciding we were going to talk, Austin pulls up the chair beside him, taking a seat at the conference table.

I don’t follow suit.

“Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.”

The words hang in the air, softer than I’ve ever heard him speak. Austin never did anything quietly. He had one of those booming voices that echoed across every room he stepped into, begging to be heard. We didn't go to high school together, and yet I knew exactly who he was. The boy with the easy smile and the loud laugh, always performing, always absorbing the spotlight even when it wasn’t his to take.

But now? His apology comes out quiet and weak. And it’s because of that that I actually believe it.

And then, for the first time, Austin Black says something I actually agree with.

“We weren’t happy.”

I don’t respond, not out loud at least. I just glance away, pretending to search for something in my bag as my fingers toy with the strap. He knows he has me now.

This is a truth I came to on my own terms, slowly, over the past few weeks. I resisted it at first—clung to my anger, the betrayal, the sharp, satisfying edges of it. Maybe that’s why I never really grieved losing Austin. The breakup left me gutted, sure, but it was the destruction of my trust that truly wrecked me. Still, he was right, I wasn’t happy.

I didn’t know it at first, in the days after we broke up. Honestly, I didn’t know it until weeks later—until that bizarre, chaotic day at the museum with Harry—when I found myself breathless from laughter, heart pounding from something other than anxiety and all I could think was I haven’t felt anything like this in a long time.

“That doesn’t give you the right to cheat on me,” I sigh quietly as I pull out the chair across from him and sit, the metal legs scraping softly against the conference room floor. I finally meet his eyes. He gives me a sad smile. 

“I know, Jules,” he says my name again, the way he used to, and for the first time, it doesn’t hit. It doesn’t make my stomach twist or my chest ache. Instead, I feel nothing. “I’m sorry that I hurt you,” he continues, voice steady now. “I truly am. But we can’t keep going like this. It’s exhausting.”

When a relationship ends, you go through phases—each shaped by how and why it fell apart. In this case, my first phase was anger. After the initial shock wore off, I was livid with Austin, for cheating on me, for embarrassing me. After that came the shame. That phase lasted the longest and hit me the hardest. I spent weeks holed up in my room, unable to face anyone, including myself. 

Eventually, I reached acceptance. I knew there was no going back, and more importantly, I didn’t want to. Now, all I could do was look back on our relationship and see it through a different light—one where we had spent months going through the motions, not putting in effort from either side. 

That leaves me at a crossroads. I can either continue to hold onto that rage, funnel it into my hatred for Austin. Or, I could let it go. The truth of the matter is if I decide to stay angry, I’m the only one who suffers. Austin would move forward, he wouldn’t carry the weight of a grudge. I would be the only one carrying the torch, burning myself in the process.

I study him. There’s no fire in me now. Just a tired ache at the edges of my ribs. “You always thought your career mattered more than I did,” I say quietly. “That your career was more important than mine.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” I say, firmer this time. “You never made room for me. Not really. I was just the person who kept your schedule tight and your image clean. Your safety net.”

He doesn’t argue again. Instead, he exhales, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says again, voice low. “I know how much you do. For me, for the guys. Look at what you’re doing now, still cleaning up after Harry’s messes.”

It’s my fault. It’s my mess.

“Why did you do it?”

Maybe I’m some kind of masochist because lately I’ve been thriving on emotional torture.

There’s a heaviness to the air around us. It’s clear that he has an answer, but he’s trying to figure out the best way to lay it out for me.

“When we first got together, it was exciting. We couldn’t get enough of each other,” he says, locking eyes with me. “But as time passed, it became about our jobs—how being together made everything harder.” He pauses, placing his hands on the table, thumbs moving anxiously. “With those girls… it was easy. They liked me, and I got swept up in that. I guess I just wanted something that didn’t feel so complicated. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. That’s where my head was.”

I think this might be the first honest conversation we’ve ever had. For the first time, I’m looking at Austin and I know that he’s being completely honest with me.

I nod, absorbing everything he just told me. If it was a month ago, there may have tears and screaming, but we’re past that now. I think I needed the confirmation that I didn’t do anything wrong, that there wasn’t anything wrong with me in order to truly let our relationship go.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I bite down gently on my bottom lip. Austin’s eyes lighten to a caramel brown and there’s a second where I can see into his brain again, understand what he’s thinking. He hadn’t expected this reaction. I think he’d braced for tears, or screaming. Instead, he looks relieved.

“Honestly, I don’t know how to be your friend,” I admit. “We never really were…” My words trail off as I exhale slowly, releasing the last bit of weight I’ve been carrying. “But I can try to not hate you anymore.”

His shoulders relax as the tension dissipates. I realize then that this isn’t just about giving him closure; no, it was about giving myself a break. The stuff with Harry was way more intense, and I don’t think my heart could handle having to hate Austin every single day—it was exhausting.

“What about from a PR standpoint?” He asks, hesitating like he’s scared to shatter this fragile bubble we’ve entered. I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

It was a fair question. We needed to talk logistics. But we had barely gotten past the part where I told him I didn’t hate him anymore. 

He smiles nervously at my giggle, knowing it sounded so ridiculous in the scheme of things.

“I mean…” I say, lifting my shoulder in a small shrug. “Our relationship wasn’t super publicized to begin with. We kept things pretty lowkey,” I pause, then add with a hint of dry humor, “Just maybe don’t get caught making out with any coeds yet.” 

Okay, too soon. 

We both cringe right as it leaves my mouth, but break out in a round of laughter. It feels lighter than anything between us in a long time, even when we were together. I don’t know if there’s a world where Austin and I could ever be friends, but it felt easier to breathe already without having to hate him. 

Austin glances down at his phone, the smile lingering on his face fading. “I should go. I’ve got a flight to catch to Pennsylvania,” he explains, rising from his chair.

I just nod, standing up. “Going home from the holidays?”

“Yeah,” He smiles, stretching his arms up over his head. “Holly is home from college, and our parents want everyone together.” I had only met his sister once during the tour, but she was sweet enough. I wonder what he’ll tell them about me. About us. “What about you?”

Even when we were together, Austin didn’t ask about my family much. He knew it was complicated and didn’t want to open a can of worms.

“Minnesota, to see Lex,” I wince as I say her name, remembering the last time the two of them interacted. As if he feels it too, he reaches up, scratching his jaw.

A silence settles between us, but this time, it’s comfortable.

“Thank you,” he says finally. “Seriously. For everything.”

I just nod, offering a small, crooked smile. 

He starts to turn away, and I catch myself watching his back like I’ve done a thousand times before, except now, there’s no pang, no ache, no wishing he’d turn around.

Still, something softens in me.

“Hey,” I call after him.

He pauses, halfway through the door, and turns.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

His expression shifts, surprised for a second, then warmer than I’ve seen in a long time. “You too, Jules.”

As the door shuts behind him, I’m wondering if a new one could finally open.

-

taglist: @indierockgirrl @behindmygreyeyes @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @emsma11

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Inspired by a better version of Tseng that has been engraved into my mind by @demialwrites. After the events of Advent Children. HOWEVER I don’t think they’d really be able to get access to who and what is needed at this point(i’m plotholing idc) Now, don’t ask if I’m factually correct. I dunno, I did a very very slight reading into it but got the idea from a conversation my partner brought up about heart transplants. (apparently this goes for other organs as well, I’ll look into it more later cause it is interesting. But I don’t want to lose this little drabble idea.) Anyways, I did exaggerate the possible effects from the research I did find on it for the sake of fanfic. Very vague on the accident I know, create your own maybe? Maybe it could make it more interesting idk.

Warning: major character death, hints of suicidal thoughts? also i was too lazy to carry on, or just didn't have the inspiration to, idk. I just didn't want to write anything very long.

Though you didn’t know who you received it from, you were thankful. Having been in an accident along with Tseng, the doctors had to act fast to save your life. Unfortunately Tseng succumbed to his injuries, passing away without you by his side. Something that ate you to the core everyday. 

Would knowing the truth make life any better for you? Tseng would fight tooth and nail for you, would give up his life, and that’s exactly what he did. He was just fine despite the damage done to the area. There was hardly a scratch on Tseng. 

Tseng tried his best to remain calm, but as the day went on your heart was failing with little to no chance of recovering. He couldn’t take it, watching you lay there motionless, a lifeless version of the vibrant person you were just hours ago. It’s a shame how quickly life can turn around. One minute he was thinking of how he would spend the rest of his life with you. Now he wanted to find the fastest way to die by your side. Due to Tseng’s alarming emotional state, Rufus made sure his firearm was taken away. He made it clear he would rather die than live this life without you, knowing that he didn’t do everything he could to save you. So he gave his very heart to you, in a more literal sense that he never expected to take it as more than the usual saying. Rufus made sure Tseng's request was swiftly followed through, the chances of you making it through the night were still low, but the chances to preserve your life would be higher if he at least tried. This way, no matter what is to come, he can be with you. 

You would never get the chance to know. Sometimes you get the feeling that Tseng was lingering around you at all times, like his presence never quite left despite his physical being departing. It was so odd. You picked up a few new habits and food cravings, thinking it was a therapeutic outlet to cope with losing Tseng considering these were all things he appreciated while you didn’t so much. In turn some scents and foods you loved once, you now couldn’t stand. Things that were a guilty pleasure of Tseng’s now were something you craved dearly. 

What became a bit annoying was the odd biological clock you seem to never be able to break. Formerly something you were not used to. Having trouble getting up at 7am for the start of your day versus Tseng’s 4am or even 5am start if he’s lucky. It all seemed very odd to others how you seemed to adopt a lot of Tseng’s habits after receiving his heart. 

Yes, the others were all informed. Tseng wanted the other Turks to know why he wouldn’t be coming back, finding himself incapable of abandoning his team without notice. They were the closest thing to family he had after all. 

Tseng didn’t want you to live with the guilt of knowing he died to save you. He knows you well enough, you wouldn’t move on easily, if at all, you would certainly be in far more despair knowing you had his heart beating inside of you. 

[moe-broey]

UUUUAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIKE. LIKE. Okay so, because I have no idea where to start, I'm just going in Book order for now. I esppp needed the refresh on the prologue. Also because I am just. This Fucking Close. To actually making a whole ass timeline of Events for Moe. I have a plethora of rough ideas in my head, things that are important to me, but will be extremely difficult to pull off all simultaneously ESP bc in true Alfonsecore fashion, a lot of things. Are just contradicting each other. Here.

But that's not the reason why I'm complaining. No. The REASON I've come back so soon to scream out in agony is because. This is supposed to be for my Alfonse quotes blog bit. And a study. Ect. Okay.

But as Soon. As SOON as Sharena hit the scene. Dude I'm gonna thrup I can't just OMIT her FUCKING DIALOGUE...... not only is she a cutie patootie but like. Her voice IS easier to come up with on the fly, because she's so casual. But. I Feel Like. And I have been feeling this way for quite some time actually. I NEED to capture her voice better, too. Because even though she's more casually spoken than Alfonse, she has this like. Whimsical and almost eccentric air to her. And she still has moments of "proper" speech patterns too, like. She has a VERY funky combination of being so personable and easygoing that you forget she's a princess, BUT! You sort of get the sense that she was raised a very specific way. For better or worse.

About to run in circles real bad and not even get to my point, but. I'm writing all this down in a notebook, btw, just seems like the easiest way as someone who doesn't have a computer (to be able to do two things at once, yeah I'll have to type all that shut out later BUT it's part of the Process).

NOT MAKING SENSE OR ANY POINTS. ALL OVER THE PLACE. BUT. If I don't have her dialogue at very least in this notebook I'm gonna thrup. ESPPPP as someone who's main focus really is just. The family dynamics. Like. My area of focus is SUPER narrow in that and I struggle to expand outside of it

AS AN ASIDE. LIKE. I DO FEEL LIKE. IN ALL OF THIS. I really should study Anna too. She really does hold the group together. And I'm very much thinking about the specific roles charas like Senshi and Chilchuck play in Dungeon Meshi actually. Chilchuck is a literal dad, and that does often bleed into his dynamics with his party members, BUT. He is like World's Most Number #1 Professional Work-Life Balance Business Man. It would be extremely reductive and a disservice to his character to just slot him into being "the group's dad", because. His whole DEAL is that separation of work and private life, how important that is to him. Meanwhile Senshi feels harder to place, in this category, but I feel like he plays a similar role. He's a mentor. He has skills and a lifestyle he's passionate about. What really is making me think this though, slotting him here, is near the end of Dungeon Meshi where everyone is thinking about what they want to do next. Senshi had a good time with Laois and company, but now he's thinking he wants to spend some time alone. LIKE.... I AM. STRUGGLING. TO MAKE A POINT HERE. BUT. No matter how much of a fatherly or even older brother role (esp in the way his old closest party member was, to him) he takes on, at the end of the day. We created some good memories and lasting bonds, but it also just feels factually incorrect to say "found family", here? He's a mentor. And at the end of the journey, he just wants to do his own thing again.

RAMBLING. SO BADLY. BUT. I FEEL LIKE. ESPPPPPPP in how absolutely VITAL both Chilchuck and Senshi ARE in rounding out the party dynamic. I feel like Anna plays that similar role. Keeping everyone together, professional style, mentor style. It is quite literally her job!!!!!!!

AAAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BRAIN. SOUP BRAIN. But the point of that ramble was acknowledging that characters like that are SO important to round out a cast. But again, my focus and vision is just so, so narrow. I really struggle with anything outside of it!!!!!!!! Esp bc I feel like in my own life if I'm interacting w someone in a professional manner, it just. Begins and ends there. Each of us have a role to play to perform the intended task to achieve the desired result. No matter how much I trust or am fond of someone in that context, I keep a degree of depersonalization and detachment. Doctor, patient. My task is to give you the information you need to perform YOUR task. Therapist, client. The very same. I have not been employed for several years. But that attitude is still there, with maybe a dash (or a heaping helping) of questioning of authority in there. As you do.

......... You are looking directly into my brain. It is such a mess, in here. You are watching me pace from the living room to the kitchen from the kitchen to the living room and so on, talking to myself. Is there anything worthwhile, in here? I'm talking at a rubber duckie. Throwing darts at the corkboard that's tangled in a web of red string of seemingly unconnected topics. Can anybody hear me. Hello........

IN SHORT I think at very least for my notebook I have to write down Sharena's dialogue, too. I WILL start crying if I exclude her. It is for the very same reason my Alfonse folder on my phone is also my Sharena folder. Do NOT separate them. They are A SET. Also some vague thoughts about Anna and how I really struggle to write anything that's outside of a familial or familially-coded context. But having those other flavors of bonds really do flesh everything out and like. Well when I try and think outside of my very narrow tunnel vision I just

All of that is just a lot of words to say I love Sharena with all my heart anf I'm gonna be unwell if she isn't At Least in the notebook, idk if I'll do anything w the dialogue I'm recording there outside of just. Studying it I fucking guess. And also, when it comes to Anna, just. Skill issue. Of some sort. But I am Thinking About It. For the sake of a well-rounded cast of characters...........

[weenwrites]

Hi

Can you write headcanons of Transformers EarthSpark Bumblebee (romantic) and any of the terrans of your choice with a reader that is in her period? I would like the confort, going through this is not verry pleasant😞.

I was thinking of reader being a neighbour (and Bee's partner) the kids visit once in a while to learn more about earth and humans since they have to remain hidden and can't interact with other humans out of their family. But this time they find reader struggling with period sinctoms and they help her while she and Bee answer the kids questions about menstruation.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

A/N: Take care of yourself, anon! The terrans are written platonically, while Bee's is the only romantically written one.

Bumblebee

Ah, that time of the month again. If you've been in a relationship with him for a good while, chances are that he's already memorized what he needs to do to help you. He'll whip a heating pad out, go fetch you some asprin or some other off-the-counter pain killers and dietary suppliments (if you use any), and if there is absolutely anything else you need? Just call his name and he'll be there.

Even if your relationship is still relatively new, he'd immediately ask you what you need and what he can do to help, or he'd search it up online and he'd immediately get you these things to help with the pain.

Nightshade

Even with a human family, they're not all too knowledgable on human biology... So the moment you explain what's happening, they're very concerned. Up until this point they've just thought that any kind of bleeding is bad, and they were seconds away from ushering you to a hospital if you and Bee hadn't cleared things up first.

They'll ask you a lot of good and thoughtful questions to try and better understand what you're going through, so hope you don't mind. And even if you wanted, they could build you a personal assistant to help with any rigorous physical activities, or just general day-to-day activities.

Hashtag

With the internet at her fingertips... She can learn about literally anything she wants...! That is if she finds factually correct information first, instead of bumping into a whole bunch of misinformation. And that's sorta what happened when she was trying to find some stuff to help with period cramps and whatnot. Of course she knows not to take some of this info at face-value, and takes your opinion as fact over what incels on the internet have to say.

She's read online that physical exercise or reducing stress can help with period cramps, and though she doesn't know if it'll help out or not, she'll give it a try if you're willing to do it. She'll take you out for a short stroll in the woods, or practice some yoga poses out in your yard, and the moment that the pain becomes too much for you to continue, she'll call it quits right there and then, and the two of you can just chill.

[scatterbrainedart]

I've only seen people talk about that scene as a confession, but to me it reads much more like a proposal.

Crowley didn't tell Aziraphale anything new. Nothing in the things he said came as a surprise to any of them, more than the fact that he was just saying them out loud at all. Sure, they haven't talked about how and why they love each other, but have they ever needed to? They already know it. The two of them is such an integral part of their every day. They do most things together. They trust each other more than they trust anyone else.

The worst thing Aziraphale could think of to threat Crowley with at the end of s1 was never talking to him ever again. He knew that was one of the worst things Crowley could imagine in that moment. It was the end of the world, the world that Crowley helped create and was naturally very attached to (to the point of falling), yet the worst outcome of it all was to never talk to Aziraphale again. Aziraphale already knows that Crowley loves him, therefore, a "confession" isn't necessary.

I mean overall, it's just factually a proposal. Crowley proposes that they run away together, once more. That's been what he wants for a long time, and Aziraphale knows that too. He's already been asked that once. Crowley is not even confessing that for the first time either. Nothing in that entire conversation is news, just feelings that haven't really been voiced in such a formal manner in quite a while.

And "We are a team, a group. A group of the two of us". Not "we could be". We are. And he wants to keep it that way. He is not confessing his love persay, even if there's definitely love behind what he's saying. He's literally saying "we've been (working) together a long time, relying on and trusting each other, and I want that to continue. I want to spend forever with you, as an us, just you and me".

Even with the whole "nothing lasts forever" with Crowley interpreting that as their relationship. He was hoping it would. He was trying to secure it so it would (get away from the things that were pulling them apart), much like someone would try to secure a relationship to last forever by proposing marriage. And personally, I think that hurts even more.

"We could have been us."

They could have been ineffable husbands, more or less. GAHH!!

[ladamedusoif]

Books (Professor!Ben x OFC Lydia)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 14

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow @ladameecrit for my writing updates!

Pairing: Professor!Ben x OFC!Lydia (part of the Visiting universe)

Word count: 848

Warnings: Language, angst, pining

Rating: Teen

Summary: What’s the harm of imagining an alternative future, when you’re lonely this Christmas?

This Fic-Mas story can be read as an add-on/deleted scene to Chapter 8 of Visiting, 'Sister Winter'.

Iceland has this thing called Jolabokaflod - literally, “book flood”. It can mean the rush of new books published for Christmas gifts, or it can mean the tradition associated with them. 

Put simply, the idea is that on Christmas Eve, you exchange books with your nearest and dearest. And then everyone snuggles up in bed, armed with hot chocolate and candy, and reads their new book. 

It sounds like heaven. 

The book flood tradition pops into your mind as you place a neatly-wrapped selection of books under the tree at your parents’ house on Christmas Eve. And with it, a pang, and another thought. 

Ben would love that. 

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, trying to fend off the thoughts of him. “I think it’s time for bed.”

You creep up the stairs, last one to turn in for the night, and nestle in with your hot water bottle. 

You wish he was keeping you warm, girl. 

“Fuck.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy. And you begin to imagine, to let yourself daydream (if one can call it that) about an alternative reality, an alternative future, if only for the night. 

It is Christmas, after all. It’s canonically a time for what might have beens, for counter-factuals. What was A Christmas Carol, if not that? And - even more obviously - what of It’s A Wonderful Life?

Alright, you think, maybe it’s not quite the same. Clarence the Angel had to show George Bailey how much better he made the world, and how wonderful his life actually was. And Dickens showed Scrooge terrible things, to help him change - a far cry from the cosy scene you were about to conjure up. 

Still, the point stands. What if things were different? What if things could be different? 

You close your eyes and let your mind wander, telling yourself it’s just idle fantasy. It’s not hurting anyone. Right?

So indulge. Find comfort in thinking about how it might be, could have been. Imagine the comfort of books, of warmth, of him.

You had thought for a long time about the book for Ben. Eventually, you settled on a personal favourite, one that reflected your personality, your interests, yourself: The Belly of Paris, by Émile Zola. You knew he hadn’t read it - “just Thérèse Raquin and Germinal”, he’d told you as you raved about Zola’s books - and you wanted to see what he thought. 

The edition is a recent translation, a handsome paperback, and you wrap it up in brown paper and add a length of dark red ribbon, placing it under the tree to await Christmas Eve. 

The next day, it’s joined by a matching book-shaped gift: this time wrapped in dark green paper, your name written in his distinctive handwriting on an old-fashioned gift tag. 

Christmas Eve is idyllic: mulled wine, old movies, talking and preparing food for the next day’s meal as the snow falls softly outside. By about 8 that evening, you’re settled cosily on the couch and your eyes land on the little packages. 

“Time for book flood, I think.”

Ben smiles as you reach under the tree and retrieve the gifts. “You want to open them here?”

“I’d rather do it in bed, baby. C’mon, grab some hot chocolate.” 

He follows you upstairs to bed, making you giggle as he purrs in your ear: “Gonna make you read soooooo much, Lyd. We’re gonna read so hard.”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you join in the suggestive jokes, pulling him close to you. “Well, you know I can keep reading for hours, Benjamin.”

You can. And you do. 

Ben’s book gift to you is a gorgeous vintage copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, which you clutch to your chest in delight. He opens his parcel carefully, a wide smile spreading across his face as he recognises the title. 

“Émile. Of course.”

And now it’s just the two of you, side by side in bed, the only sounds the occasional crackle from the tall candles you’d lit in the bedroom, one or both of you sipping your hot cocoa, and the turning of the pages. 

Without lifting his eyes from Zola, Ben’s left hand finds your right, and holds it: safe, secure. Your thumb traces over his tattoo, making him hum quietly with pleasure. 

“Imagine if we hadn’t figured things out”, you muse, eyes still fixed on Garcia Marquez. 

Ben turns and looks at you, eyes warm and expression most serious. “Not figuring things out was never an option.”

When you wake in the grey light of Christmas morning, it takes a moment for you to remember.

The pain hits you all over again. The fantasy - simplistic and all as it might have been - had been too convincing, and facing reality feels even harder. 

You can hear your family already waking and pottering about the house, little nieces stampeding out of the spare room they’re sharing with your sister and brother-in-law for the holidays. 

Craving the warmth of a familiar hand on yours, you turn over and cry into the pillow. 

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (The Hunger Games, Ch. 21-22)

21

it's crazy how easily they both fall into domesticity in that cave, like constantly snuggling/curling up together in the sleeping bag

katniss wondering about whether gale would be her boyfriend if she opened the door and what he makes of all the kissing (another thing the movies robbed us of)

she gives fever-ridden peeta a "long lingering kiss" before she heads to the cornucopia, but just for the cameras of course. acting!

22

katniss dreams of her mother gently stroking her cheek but of course it's peeta. she talks about how much she craves that gentle touch. again with peeta being the first person to truly make her feel safe since she kinda lost both her parents in a way

she jolts awake in alarm but feels better when she realises peeta is there

him saying "good to see your eyes again." and just generally how he looks after her with so much tenderness. he feeds her, rubs warmth into her feet, wraps her up and tucks her in. he kisses her on the nose. swoon

her still not getting why peeta gave her that bread. like after all these hints, how is she still clueless?

"i think we would like thresh. i think he'd be our friend back in district 12" - again katniss referring to her and peeta as "we" and "our." they never spoke before these games but now it's them, together. forever more.

again they kiss constantly. like it's very normal and natural and not out of place for them. and katniss welcomes the kisses because i feel like otherwise, she'd definitely have something to say.

her trying to flirt with him and pulling out the f*ckboy "or what?" looool

"and while i was talking, the idea of actually losing peeta hit me again and i realised how much i don't want him to die. and it's not about the sponsors. and it's not about what will happen back home. and it's just not that i want to be alone. it's him. i do not want to lose the boy with the bread" - in this little paragraph, katniss essentially shuts down literally every argument about how and why she's faking her feelings for peeta. she let's us know that deep down she knows that it's not for any of the reasons above that she's trying so hard to keep him alive. it's because he's him and she cares for him and he matters to her. after she realises this, she wants to pull the shutters closed and not have the whole of panem see this vulnerability from her. so she changes the subject and avoids talking about her feelings.

then they have their first kiss they're both fully aware of. she feels the stirring inside her chest, warm and curious, and she wants more. she is quite clearly falling hard for this boy but can't/won't let herself give in to it. but the feelings are there, the spark is there.

he pulls her head down (notice that dominance pls) to use his arm as a pillow and protectively drapes the other over her body while he sleeps. she notes that no one's arms have made her feel this safe since her dad died. and that is such a big statement! she's not been held like this or felt safe like this in like 5 years. gale's been around all that time but he's not made her feel like this. this is something new, something warm and curious.

(I fully believe that while katniss is the fighter with the bow and arrow and considered the more powerful one - in their romantic relationship, peeta is the protector, the dominant one, and she is the one who needs more looking after. and honestly i love that for her. i love that she and peeta found each other because she needed his energy in her life)

when he tells her why he fell for her, i have to laugh at her being like "i thought we were just playing pretend so why is he declaring love for me like this with factual evidence i cannot deny?!" like she is truly clueless. and it's why we love her. but wow. her mind works in insane ways

his story makes her "almost foolishly happy" though. like a giddy teenage girl who's falling in love for the first time.

when peeta says he doesn't have much competition in here (for katniss) and katniss replies that he doesn't have much competition anywhere, obviously it sounds like a cheesy line but before she says it, she again wants to close the shutters on her feelings. i really believe she felt that when she considered everything.

this is the moment where i think he really captures her attention. they cross that barrier from "pretend" into "real." her feelings are real but she cannot make sense of them. she leans in for the kiss and the readers are wondering how much of it all is playing to the cameras but i think peeta's confession completely disarms her because she wasn't expecting that.

a few posts ago i noted how peeta can easily tell when she's lying (3 occasions he mentions) so it's interesting that she's 'playing pretend' here but he doesn't see it as lying (because at the end of the games he's going to be hurt when he realises it was an 'act'). what he feels from her is real. katniss is rubbish at lying

[lost-inanotherlife]

I gotta get it out of my system: bringing up Sawyer as an excuse for post-island Jack and Kate's break up makes absolutely 0 fucking sense.

First of all, both Jack and Kate have so many issues and real, factual problems to solve that Sawyer is literally the least of their concerns.

Secondly, it's disrepectful to Kate's character and unfaithful to Jack's.

It's disrepectuful to Kate because it flattens her character out and reduces her to the role of the eternal undecided between two lovers.

And it's not the case?* When earlier on in the flashforward she tells Jack that's important to her that he's decided to stay, to give them a chance with Aaron she's meaning it. At this point in the flashforward the love triangle is done, we're 3 years later the events we see happening on the island, Sawyer's been out of the picture for years. Of course, this doesn't mean that they can all forget about him, absolutely not, but compare him being a problem in Jack and Kate's relationship with their REAL problems:

Jack's alcholism and pills abuse, his commitment issues (does he really want to be there for Kate and Aaron or does he feel like it's his responsibility?), his general trust issues in relationship matters after his wife cheated on him (and him wanting to cheat on his wife, too), his douche behavior when he thinks people are deceiving him (re Sarah and Achara), he's fucking seeing his dead father, AGAIN. And I could go on.

On the other hand, Kate's basically fresh from prison and from what I assume must have been quite a long and taxing trial, her estranged mother tried to cut a deal with her in order to see her grandson and she only has a few months to live. She's caring and providing for Claire's baby on her own and has promised Sawyer that she would make sure his own daughter is well too. She's on probation and can't leave California so keeping Sawyer's promise might endanger herself and her own son. Her partner, who's also her adopted son's uncle, is heavy drinking in the afternoon and being a general dick lately.

I MEAN. COME ON.

It's unfaithful to Jack's character because he's always, ALWAYS been aware that Kate and Sawyer are first and foremost friends. Because they are. Aside from their romantic involvement their platonic relationship is very strong. On the island, where he actually may or may not have had some ground to throw a fit at Kate for her romantic attachment to Sawyer, he's always been respectful toward their relationship. A bit bitchy sometimes (fuck yeah but that's Jack Shephard y'all), I won't deny it but never a complete douche.

And what's up with this pathetic excuse that Sawyer wouldn't want Jack to know? Even if it was true, lady we're talking about a kid here okay? Let's be real, you can't keep your fiancé out of the loop of "people on the island's kids I'm providing for". This specific writers' choice (making Kate say that she can't tell Jack because Sawyer wouldn't want) makes Kate seem absolutely fucking stupid and it's NOT fair.

Also, when she made that promise to Sawyer she was not engaged to Jack. Years have passed and things have changed, I seriously doubt that Sawyer thought that Kate was gonna keep that secret to her grave. And it wasn't a secret in the first place, it was a favor.

Sorry for bitching and moaning, I might be doing that again in the future, LOL.

it's just that... Kate's character has got so much potential and I hate when she gets pigeonholed as love interest. Jack's struggles too are way bigger than his supposed rivalry with Sawyer. I hate when they don't do justice to previously consistently written characters.

*and, imo, it's never been the case? As I've stated before, the apex of the love triangle has always been Jack. Ofc, this doesn't mean that both Kate and Sawyer can't make their own decisions, but Kate's (Sawyer's too but that's for another day) are very much connected to what Jack does or, to be more precise, what she thinks Jack might do (more importantly what Jack doesn't do, cause my babygirl Jack's quite slow on the uptake when it comes to flirting) and always, always depend on her own belief that Jack's "good" while she's "bad" and she unconsciously begrudges him for that (see "What Kate Did").