#the boy who lived and died and lived again

[inkoutsidethelines]

Hoo boy. Okay. This reply got my attention, and I'm going to do my best to answer each point you raise. Because I think this is an incredibly bad faith reading of the Jedi and the Star Wars movies in general.

The Jedi are Detached from reality as it is perceived by humans.

There is absolutely nothing in the movies that supports this claim. Nor is there anything in the movies that support your claim that the Jedi don't perceive time in a linear fashion. Yes, some Jedi get glimpses of the future, or the past, but that is in no way the same thing as fully experiencing time in a non linear fashion.

Genuinely, I don't know where you got this idea from. I can't think of a single moment from any of the movies that supports it. You have simply made up a headcanon about the Jedi and decided that it was true.

Anakin, a person who clearly suffers from borderline personality disorder which comes with symptoms such as fear of abandonment, an unstable view of the self, devaluing or overvaluing relationships to the point placing of one’s self-worth entirely in another person’s hands, and more, literally needs unconditional love and support.

Anakin does not clearly suffer from borderline personality disorder. The movies don't support that, and no interview I've ever seen from George Lucas supports that. This is, again, a headcanon that you made up and have decided it's true.

He was simultaneously considered the “chosen one” and considered a burden or a problem.

Exactly one Jedi made a big deal about Anakin being the Chosen One: Qui-Gon. That's it. The Jedi don't treat Anakin any different than any other member of their order. Heck, potentially being the Chosen One wasn't even enough to convince the Council to let him join the Order in the first place!

As for treating him like a problem/burden...well, no, not really. Not in the movies. They get frustrated when he disobeys orders, but that's a fair reaction. Obi-Wan corrects him when he's getting too emotional, but that's literally Obi-Wan's job as Anakin's Master. They're upset when Palpatine forces them to give Anakin a seat on the Council, but that has less to do with Anakin and more to do with not appreciating Palpatine trying to manage Jedi business.

And that’s not even touching on how in Phantom Menace he created strong bonds with both Qui-Gon and Padmé only to have both of the ripped away right after he’d left behind everything he knew and loved.

...I'm not sure what you expect the Jedi to do about that? Qui-Gon died, and Padme was a Queen who had to go back to her own planet.

And Anakin choose to leave Tatooine and his mother behind to try and become a Jedi. Shmi encouraged him to go! And certainly an argument can be made that a nine year old can't fully understand that decision, but Qui-Gon did his best to explain what that choice meant, and that a Jedi's way of life is hard.

Anakin made choices. So did Qui-Gon, and so did Padme. The Jedi can't help any of that.

He was NINE and being told that everything he ever learned was wrong and backwards and leads to being evil and that he needs to be perfect for anyone else to think he belonged because even the smallest mistake would just confirm their preconceived beliefs about him.

I'm going to need some references for this claim, because I don't remember ever being shown this in any of the movies.

The Jedi are shown to respect other cultures, but Jedi have their own culture and standards that one must live up to in order to be a Jedi. There's nothing wrong with that! The Jedi are allowed to have their own culture, and they're allowed to have standards about who can join them.

Anakin never would have become anything like Vader without Sidious leading him.

It's quite possible that this is true. Though he did murder a whole tribe of Tusken Raiders, women and children included, years before he became Vadar. That being said, no amount of lies and manipulation from Sidious excuses the choice Anakin made to betray the Jedi and murder younglings.

That was a choice that Anakin made. Sidious didn't force his hand. Anakin made the decision that the chance of saving Padme - from a fate he didn't know for sure she'd experience! - was worth betraying the Jedi, worth murdering younglings, worth overthrowing the Republic and turning it into an Empire.

Anakin doesn’t view Padmé as a possession, I don’t know why anyone would think that.

Well - to stick to a movie example, since you indicated you don't consider the Clone Wars show to be canon - it could be because he never bothered to consult her in his "I will murder a bunch of younglings and help Sidious start an Empire to save Padme's life" plan, to see if she was actually okay with it. And once she finds out after the fact, and she IS NOT okay with it, Anakin responds by Force choking her.

That's why I call Anakin selfish and possessive. Because ultimately, he didn't care about Padme's feelings or opinions. Even if Anakin had been right that she was definitely going to die and Sidious would save her, Padme still would not have agreed to wiping out the Jedi and destroying the Republic to save her own life. Anakin doesn't just betray the Jedi and the Republic. He betrays Padme, her beliefs and values, because he can't stand the thought of being without her.

As for the unconditional love you say he needed? Padme did love him unconditionally. She loved him after he murdered a whole tribe of Tuskan Raiders. She loved him when she knew he was lying and keeping secrets from the Jedi Order that trusted him. She loved him after he betrayed the Jedi Order and the Republic, offering to run away with him and live hiding out from the Empire with their baby. Padme loved Anakin unconditionally and it wasn't enough for him.

Because Anakin was selfish. And he wanted everything. And he couldn't have it.

"no attachments" in SW literally just means "don't be selfish and possessive". that's it. that's all there is. doesn't mean jedi can't have friends and loved ones. they can. just. don't be possessive and selfish about it. don't murder thousands of people in an effort to save one.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1880 - labyrinth of my heart

chapter summary: When walking the streets of Chicago he spots you across the street, so real, so alive. Logan takes this as a second chance; but fear slowly slithers up, making him wonder if he'll lose you all over again.

word count: 9.3k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: first, i want to say thank you so much for the support and love for this series! this is way shorter than the first chapter, only because i wanted the ending to feel abrupt to hopefully make it feel more realistic. anyways, i'm super excited for next chapter since it's a concept i haven't ever really done before. but for now, enjoy this while it lasts :)

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, character death

series masterlist - chapter 1 → chapter 3

Logan left New York City after you died, going back to Victor who told him exactly what he expected to hear, ‘you shouldn’t have fallen in love,’ and ‘the only people we can trust is each other’.

The Civil War had begun seven years after your death as he and Victor fought for the North for four whole years. There was one thing he always kept with him, the ring he bought for you, that he never got to use. It stayed in his pocket at all times, never leaving, always there.

He had been doing the same thing he was doing before he met you, moving around the country, never staying in a spot for too long, doing odd jobs to stay afloat.

Logan found himself in Chicago, walking along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a train in the distance. The air was heavy with the scent of coal smoke, the city bustling with life in the late afternoon. Men in long coats and women in modest dresses hurried past him, some tipping their hats in his direction as he walked by. It was just another city to him, another place he would pass through on his way to nowhere in particular.

It had been 26 years since you died. Twenty-six long years, but to Logan, it still felt like yesterday. The weight of your loss hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had only grown heavier. Every town, every face he saw, reminded him of you in some way. That soft smile you always wore, the way you’d brush your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. He kept your memory alive in the smallest of ways. The ring he’d never had the chance to give you stayed in his pocket, its presence a constant, painful reminder.

He walked without a destination, his mind lost in the past as his feet carried him down the streets of Chicago. The city had a pulse of its own, far different from the quiet life in New York where you’d once lived, where you had died in his arms. He hadn't felt truly alive since then—just going through the motions of life, the decades slipping by as if time itself didn’t matter.

As Logan neared a small schoolhouse, something caught his eye. A group of children were gathered outside, their laughter echoing through the street as they played. But it wasn’t the children that caused Logan to stop. It was the woman standing among them, her smile bright as she helped one of the younger boys tie his shoe. The world around him seemed to blur, fading away as his gaze locked onto her.

It was you.

Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. He blinked, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but there you were, the same face, the same gentle presence. You looked exactly as you had all those years ago—maybe a little younger, maybe a little different, but unmistakably you.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He just stood there, watching you laugh with the children, completely unaware of his presence. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. You were dead. He had been there. He had held you as you took your last breath, felt the life leave your body. And yet, here you were, as if the last 26 years had never happened.

Logan’s feet moved on their own, pulling him closer to the schoolyard. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat dry. His mind raced with a thousand questions. How could this be? Was it some kind of dream? A cruel trick?

But the closer he got, the more real you became. You were wearing a simple dress, your hair tied up in a way he hadn’t seen before, and yet everything about you felt so familiar. The way you carried yourself, the warmth in your eyes as you spoke to the children—it was all you.

“Excuse me, miss,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.

You turned at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting his for the first time, and Logan felt his heart lurch. It was like being thrown back in time—like the years between this moment and the day you died had vanished. You looked at him with a polite curiosity, but there was no recognition in your eyes. No flicker of memory. To you, he was just a stranger.

“Yes, can I help you?” you asked, your voice soft, kind.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly explain what was running through his mind? How could he tell you that he had loved you, that he had lost you, and that now—somehow—you were standing in front of him again?

“I... I thought I knew you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. He didn’t trust himself to say more. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the ring in his pocket suddenly feeling heavier than ever.

You smiled, but it was the smile of someone trying to be polite, not of someone who knew him. “I don’t think we’ve met before,” you said. “I’m Y/N. I’m the schoolteacher here.”

Logan swallowed hard. Of course, you wouldn’t remember. You had no idea who he was, no memory of the life you’d lived before. To you, this was just another day, another moment. But to Logan, it was everything. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. You were here, alive again, but you weren’t his Y/N. Not yet, anyway.

“I’m Logan,” he finally managed, his voice thick with emotion he couldn’t hide. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, his heart aching in a way that felt both familiar and new.

You nodded, offering another warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Logan. Was there something you needed?”

Logan shook his head slowly, still reeling from the shock of seeing you again. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I... I just thought you looked like someone I used to know.”

You tilted your head slightly, a curious look in your eyes. “I get that sometimes. Chicago’s a big city, but it can feel small.”

Logan nodded, though his mind was far from this moment. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some kind of miracle—a second chance. But what could he do with it? Could he approach you, tell you everything? Or would that only drive you away?

Before he could say anything more, the school bell rang, and the children started to gather their things. You glanced back at the sound, then looked at him with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to my class. But maybe I’ll see you around?”

Logan nodded, his throat too tight to respond with words. He watched as you turned and walked back toward the schoolhouse, his heart aching with the weight of all the things he couldn’t say.

For the first time in 26 years, Logan felt hope stir in his chest. You were here. You were alive. And even if you didn’t remember him, even if you didn’t know who he was... he couldn’t walk away. Not this time.

---

Logan stayed near the schoolyard most afternoons, hidden just enough not to draw attention, watching you from a distance. It felt strange, almost painful, standing there, knowing you had no idea who he was. Every time you emerged from the schoolhouse with Ida, another schoolteacher, chatting and laughing, the urge to approach you tugged at him. But fear held him back—fear that you’d think he was insane, or worse, that you’d reject him outright.

He clenched his fists inside his coat pockets, feeling the cool metal of the ring press against his palm. It had been with him through wars, across states, through lifetimes. And now, here you were, alive again, and he still didn’t know what to do with it.

It was absurd, the way his heart raced just from seeing you walk down the street. How after all these years—after so much pain—hope could sneak its way back in. This wasn’t just a coincidence. It couldn’t be. Logan wasn’t the type to believe in magic or miracles, but what else could explain this?

As he lingered, the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day. Children poured out of the building, laughing and running. A few hung on your arms as you walked them down the steps, their chatter filling the air.

Logan shifted from foot to foot, nerves prickling along his spine. Just talk to her, idiot. You’ve been through worse.

But when you stepped into the street, Ida at your side as usual, the words died in his throat.

“Y/N, you coming for dinner at my place tonight?” Ida asked, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet.

You smiled, brushing your hands on your skirts. “Can’t tonight, but I’ll stop by tomorrow. The kids wore me out today.”

Ida chuckled. “You’ll turn into an old maid before you’re thirty at this rate.”

You rolled your eyes, but your laugh was warm. Logan felt the sound of it settle deep in his chest—like an old memory coming back to life. It was a laugh he hadn’t heard in 26 years, and it took everything in him not to run to you right then and there.

As you and Ida turned the corner toward the tenement, Logan followed at a distance. His heart hammered against his ribs. He just needed a moment, a chance to say something—anything.

Finally, the two of you paused outside the building. Ida gave you a quick hug before heading upstairs, leaving you alone on the stoop. You stood there for a moment, adjusting your shawl against the evening chill.

This is it. Now or never.

Logan forced his feet to move, crossing the street toward you.

You looked up as he approached, a little surprised but not alarmed. “Logan, wasn’t it?”

His throat felt tight, but he gave a short nod. “Yeah. Logan.”

You smiled softly, the same kind smile that had haunted his dreams. “What brings you by?”

He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “I... I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, but there was no fear, only curiosity. “About what?”

Logan shifted his weight, his hands tightening around the edges of his coat. The ring in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, a reminder of everything unsaid.

“I... You remind me of someone,” he admitted, voice low. “Someone I lost a long time ago.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze steady but gentle. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That must’ve been hard.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It was.”

There was a beat of silence between you—heavy, charged with the weight of all the things Logan couldn’t say. You didn’t know him, didn’t know what you’d meant to him in another life, but standing here, so close to you again, it felt like the world had tilted back into place.

“You... wanna walk for a bit?” Logan asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Something in his expression must’ve stirred your kindness, because you nodded. “Alright.”

The two of you started down the sidewalk together, the city humming around you. Logan kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, fingers brushing the ring again and again like a talisman.

“So, how long have you been in Chicago?” you asked, glancing over at him.

Logan shrugged. “Not long. Just passing through.”

You gave a small smile. “It’s a good place to get lost in for a while.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Guess so.”

The conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm after that—small talk, nothing too deep. Logan told you bits and pieces about his travels, careful not to reveal too much. He learned that you’d moved to Chicago a couple of years ago, taking the teaching job because it felt right.

“I’ve always liked working with kids,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something... hopeful about it, you know?”

Logan nodded, though hope had been a foreign concept to him for a long time. But walking beside you now, listening to your voice, he felt something stir in him—a flicker of warmth he thought he’d lost forever.

As the evening deepened and the sky turned a dusky purple, you reached your building again. You stopped on the stoop, turning to face him.

“Thank you for the walk,” you said, your smile gentle. “It was nice.”

Logan nodded, his heart heavy with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. “Yeah. It was.”

For a moment, it felt like time stood still—like the universe had bent just enough to give him this moment with you. And even though you didn’t remember him, didn’t know the history you shared, Logan knew he couldn’t let you slip away again.

“Y/N...” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You tilted your head, waiting.

He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “Can I see you again?”

Your smile widened, something warm flickering in your eyes. “I’d like that.”

Logan gave a short nod, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Good,” he murmured.

And for the first time in 26 years, Logan allowed himself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, he’d found his way back to you.

---

You had taken up Ida’s offer after all, you lived in the same building so it wasn’t like it was out of the way for you.

“Oh, hey! Thought you weren’t gonna come by.”

You shrugged, taking off your shawl, “changed my mind.” You sat down on the couch and told Ida about your walk with Logan, and she listened intently.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed him. He’s been watching the schoolyard for the past few weeks.”

"Wait, what do you mean, ‘he’s been watching the schoolyard for weeks?’” you asked, your brows knitting together as you leaned forward.

Ida waved her hand dismissively but gave you a sly smile. “Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. He hasn’t been creepy about it or anything. Just... noticed him hanging around, that’s all. Kind of hard to miss a guy like that, don’t you think?”

You blinked, a sudden flush creeping up your neck. “A guy like what?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” she teased, sitting down across from you. “Tall, rugged... that serious, brooding look. You’re telling me you didn’t notice? He’s practically been glued to the corner across from the schoolhouse for days.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking back to the walk you’d just had with Logan. You hadn’t seen him watching the school, but now that Ida mentioned it... there had been something in his eyes. A familiarity you couldn’t quite place, like he was looking at you but seeing something—or someone—else.

“I didn’t know he was hanging around,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands. “But... he seems kind. Sad, but kind.”

Ida leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest with a thoughtful hum. “Sad, huh? You picked up on that, too?”

You nodded, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. There had been a weight to Logan’s presence, something unspoken in his voice, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. And then there was the way he looked at you—like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

“You think he’s okay?” you asked quietly.

Ida shrugged, her teasing expression softening. “Who knows? The world’s a tough place. We all got our own burdens to carry. But... maybe he’s looking for something.”

“Looking for what?”

“Maybe someone to share the load,” she replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe that someone’s you.”

You shook your head, the idea seeming too far-fetched. “I don’t even know him, Ida. I mean, we just talked for the first time today.”

“Hey, stranger things have happened,” Ida said, getting up to grab a pot of tea from the stove. “You felt something, right? That’s not nothing.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I guess. He did say I reminded him of someone he lost.”

Ida paused, setting the teapot down carefully. “Lost, huh? That would explain the sad part. But... why hang around you then? What’s he hoping to find?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, more to yourself than to her. The idea that Logan had been watching you, even unknowingly, made something stir in your chest—a mix of curiosity and something you couldn’t quite name.

Ida handed you a cup of tea, sitting back down beside you. “Well, maybe next time you see him, you can ask.”

You looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Ask him why he’s hanging around the schoolyard?”

Ida laughed softly. “Maybe not that bluntly, but yeah. There’s something about him, Y/N. Might be worth finding out what.”

You sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through you. Maybe Ida was right. Maybe Logan was carrying something heavy, and maybe—just maybe—you could help.

---

The next day, you found yourself more aware of your surroundings as you walked to the schoolhouse. Every sound, every movement seemed sharper. You scanned the street, looking for a familiar figure, but Logan wasn’t there—at least, not that you could see.

The day went on as usual, though you felt a bit distracted, your mind drifting to the walk you’d shared with him. There was something about Logan that pulled at you, a quiet intensity that you couldn’t shake. He was a mystery, and part of you wanted to solve it.

When the school day ended, you lingered outside a little longer than usual, hoping—half-expecting—that he might show up again. The children ran off, their laughter echoing down the street as they disappeared into their homes. You smiled at the sight, but your thoughts were elsewhere.

“Looking for someone?”

You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan standing just a few feet away. He had approached so quietly you hadn’t even heard him.

“Logan,” you said, surprised but not unwelcome. “I didn’t see you.”

He gave a small shrug, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

You smiled softly, your heartbeat slowing as the initial surprise wore off. “It’s alright. Just didn’t expect to see you today.”

Logan shifted his weight, his gaze flicking to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I wanted to see if you’d like to take another walk. If you’re not too tired, that is.”

You hesitated, but only for a second. There was something in his voice—something vulnerable, almost hesitant. And despite not knowing him well, you found yourself wanting to say yes.

“I’d like that,” you said, stepping down from the schoolhouse stoop.

The two of you started walking again, this time in a different direction, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. For a while, neither of you spoke. It was a comfortable silence, though, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. Logan walked beside you, his steps steady but deliberate, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Why’ve you been hanging around the school?” you finally asked, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Ida said she noticed you there for a while.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, and he didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I wasn’t trying to... I don’t know. I guess I was just... drawn there.”

“Drawn there?” you echoed, glancing up at him.

He nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. “Yeah. Like I said before, you remind me of someone.”

You didn’t press, sensing that whatever it was, it was personal. Instead, you walked in silence for a few more steps before Logan stopped abruptly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, turning to face you fully. His eyes were intense, but there was something almost apologetic in them. “If I am, just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, you’re not making me uncomfortable.”

Logan studied your face, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a small nod, almost as if he was relieved.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

The conversation shifted after that, lightening as you talked about small things—the city, your students, even the weather. Logan listened more than he spoke, but you could feel him relax bit by bit, the tension in his posture easing as the afternoon wore on.

When you reached your building again, Logan stopped with you on the stoop. There was a moment of hesitation, like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, offering him a small smile.

Logan looked at you for a long beat before nodding. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

As you turned to head inside, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Logan was still standing there, watching you with that same look in his eyes—the one that made you feel like you were more than just a stranger to him.

And in that moment, you realized... you didn’t want to be just a stranger to him either.

---

After about a week of Logan walking you home, it became a familiar routine. Each time, you’d stand on the stoop, exchanging a few words before you’d head inside, always with that lingering feeling of something left unsaid. But tonight was different—the air was colder, and the wind was biting, so when you reached your building, you didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not going out in that cold again,” you said firmly, reaching for his arm. He tensed slightly under your touch, but you ignored it, tugging him toward the door. “Ten minutes outside in the cold, you need to warm up before you go.”

Logan didn’t protest, but you could sense his hesitation. He glanced around the dimly lit hallway as you led him up the stairs to your small apartment.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I won’t keep you long. Just until you can feel your fingers again.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, following you inside. Once you were both in, you motioned for him to sit down on the worn couch, tossing your shawl onto a chair as you made your way to the stove to boil some water for tea.

Logan stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the modest space, before finally sitting down. His presence seemed to fill the room, making it feel smaller, more intimate.

“You don’t gotta fuss,” he muttered, his gruff voice breaking the silence. “I’m alright.”

“Humor me,” you replied with a soft smile, setting a kettle on the stove. “Besides, I’ve been dragging you along on these walks. Least I can do is make sure you’re not freezing to death.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. His eyes followed your movements, though his expression stayed guarded. He looked... cautious, like he wasn’t sure how to be here with you, in this space. It was strange, this carefulness, coming from a man who seemed so unbreakable.

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?” you asked, turning to face him while the water heated up. “We’ve been walking for a week, and I feel like I barely know you.”

Logan’s gaze shifted, and you could tell he was weighing his words. “Not much to tell,” he said after a beat. “Just a guy who’s been around a while.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “That’s it? No family, no friends? You just... wander?”

He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the worn fabric of the couch. “Had family once. Friends, too. Lost most of ‘em.”

There was a heaviness in his voice, and you could feel the weight of his words. You didn’t push him, though. Instead, you poured the hot water into two cups, walking over and handing him one.

“Sorry,” you said softly. “That must’ve been hard.”

Logan took the cup but didn’t drink right away. He stared down into the tea, his expression unreadable. “Life’s hard for everyone,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You sat down beside him, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet fill the space. There was something about being near him that made you feel calm, like the world slowed down for a little while when he was around.

“Why’d you let me walk with you?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice rougher than before.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know me,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Most people wouldn’t... They’d be scared, or they’d push me away. But you... you let me stay.”

You frowned, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know... I guess I just felt like... I should.” You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious under his intense gaze. “Besides, you’re not exactly a scary guy. Brooding, sure, but not scary.”

A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not afraid of much, are you?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not really. I mean, what’s the point of being afraid? Life’s hard enough without worrying about things that might not even happen.”

Logan’s smile faded, replaced by that familiar look of sadness. He stared into his cup for a moment, then set it down on the table in front of him. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess you’re right.”

The silence stretched between you again, but this time it felt heavier, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. You could feel it, pressing down on both of you, but neither of you seemed ready to break it.

Finally, Logan stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. “I should go,” he said, though he didn’t make a move toward the door.

You stood up too, your heart pounding a little harder than usual. “Logan...”

He turned to face you, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah?”

You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm again. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you said softly.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without saying a word, he nodded once, a silent acknowledgment that you didn’t need to explain.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning to leave.

You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful. There was something between you—something unspoken, something old—and you weren’t ready to let it go.

Not yet.

---

It had taken a few more days to convince Logan to come back into your apartment. You weren’t sure how you convinced him this time, but you were happy that you did.

Your apartment smelled nice and homey. Before you had left for work, you had put bread in the oven to bake, and now, as you came back home with Logan in tow, it was finished. The warm, inviting scent of freshly baked bread filled the room as you stepped inside. Logan hesitated in the doorway, lingering for a moment before following you in, his expression unreadable but curious.

You busied yourself with the bread, slicing into the crust and offering Logan a piece. He took it, though his attention seemed more focused on you than the food.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite.

You smiled, trying to ignore the way your heart sped up just from him being here. "I was thinking..." you started, turning to grab a couple of plates from the cupboard. "Maybe we could go into the city tomorrow? It’s market day. There's a lot to see, and it’d be nice to get out of the schoolhouse routine for a bit."

Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. "Market, huh?"

"Yeah, you know, just... walk around. Maybe pick up a few things." You looked over at him, half expecting him to decline, but to your surprise, he didn’t.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but without hesitation. "I’ll come with you."

You smiled, feeling a small flutter of excitement in your chest. "Great. It’ll be fun. I promise."

---

The next day, you found yourself walking through the bustling streets of Chicago with Logan by your side. The market was crowded, full of people haggling and chatting, the air thick with the smell of fresh produce, spices, and the occasional whiff of roasting meat. It was a world away from the quiet walks you'd shared, and you could feel Logan's unease in the busy atmosphere. But he stayed close, his hand brushing yours more than once as you wove through the crowd.

"Do you come here often?" Logan asked, his eyes scanning the vendors with mild interest.

"Once or twice a month," you replied. "I like the energy here. Makes the city feel alive, you know?"

Logan grunted in response, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. You could tell he wasn’t used to this—being around so many people—but he stuck close to you, his presence protective without being overbearing.

After a while, you stopped at a stall selling flowers. The colors were vibrant, a burst of life in the middle of the dusty street. You picked up a small bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as you held them up.

"These are my favorite," you said, glancing up at Logan. "They're simple but... I don't know, they make me happy."

Logan’s gaze softened as he looked at the flowers in your hand, then back at you. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a few coins, handing them to the vendor before you could protest.

"Logan, you don’t have to—"

"Consider it a thank you," he said quietly, cutting you off. "For the bread."

You blinked, surprised but touched by the gesture. "Well, thank you."

He nodded, and the two of you continued walking, the flowers resting in the crook of your arm as the city bustled around you. For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the market fading into the background as the two of you wandered further from the busy streets. Eventually, you found a quiet park at the edge of the city, a small, peaceful space away from the noise.

You sat down on a bench, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. Logan sat beside you, his posture relaxed but his eyes always scanning the area, as if he couldn’t fully let his guard down.

"Do you ever stop looking over your shoulder?" you asked, half teasing but curious.

Logan’s mouth twitched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Old habit."

You studied him for a moment, sensing there was more behind those words. He had a way of holding himself, like he was always ready for something, always waiting. It made you wonder just how much he’d seen, how much he’d lived through.

"I’m glad you came with me today," you said softly, looking out at the park. "I feel like I’ve been stuck in a routine for a while now. It’s nice to just... do something different."

Logan glanced at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. "I’m glad I came too," he admitted, his voice low.

There was something in the way he said it, something that made your heart skip a beat. The air between you felt different, charged with a quiet tension that neither of you seemed willing to break. You wondered if he felt it too—the strange pull between you, like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be uncovered.

After a long pause, Logan spoke again. "I ain’t good at... this." He gestured vaguely, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. "Being close to people."

You turned to him, surprised by the admission. "You’re doing fine," you said gently.

Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he shook his head. "It’s not that simple."

You felt a pang of something—sympathy, maybe, or understanding. Whatever it was, it made you reach out, your hand lightly brushing his. "You don’t have to explain," you said softly. "I get it."

Logan’s eyes flickered down to where your hand rested near his. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he turned his hand over, his rough fingers brushing against yours in the faintest of touches. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a step—like maybe, just maybe, he was letting you in.

---

As you walked to the tenement building after work one day, you glanced over at Logan. “You ever been to the exhibition hall in the city?”

Logan looked over to you, slightly puzzled by the question. “The exhibition?”

You nodded, turning toward him. “There’s a display of inventions and art from all over. I heard they’ve got this new thing—electric lights. I was thinking about going this weekend, and… maybe you’d like to come with me?”

For a moment, Logan just stared at you, as if unsure what to say. The idea of stepping out into the city, surrounded by people, probably wasn’t something he did often. But he shifted slightly, his eyes softening in that way they did when you caught him off guard.

“You want me to go with you?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” you said, smiling. “We’ve been walking the same few streets for days. Thought it might be nice to do something different. Besides, I’m curious about those lights. They say it’s going to change the way people live.”

Logan gave a low, thoughtful hum, and for a moment, you worried he might decline. But then he nodded slowly, his expression softening further. “Alright. I’ll go.”

Your smile widened. “Great! We can meet at my place on Saturday afternoon, then head out.”

The conversation drifted back into easier topics—your students, a new bakery that had opened nearby, and the way the city seemed to grow busier every day. But beneath it all, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this small invitation marked a shift, a way to see more of who Logan was beyond the quiet man who walked beside you in silence. Maybe out in the world, you’d understand him better.

---

Saturday came quickly, and the two of you walked side by side through the busy streets, the sounds of horses and carriages filling the air. You led Logan through the bustling avenues toward the exhibition hall, your excitement barely contained.

“Ever seen anything like this?” you asked, glancing up at him as the towering hall came into view.

Logan’s eyes flicked over the building, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not in a while.”

Inside, the hall was a wonder of modern marvels. Booths lined with mechanical inventions, sculptures, and paintings from around the world. The hum of excitement filled the air, and the bright new electric lights cast a strange, almost magical glow over everything.

You wandered the displays together, your curiosity leading the way. Logan stayed close, his attention less on the inventions and more on you. Every now and then, he'd glance at a piece of machinery or a strange-looking contraption, but his eyes kept drifting back to your face, watching the way your expression changed with each new discovery.

"This is incredible," you murmured, leaning in to get a closer look at a large machine labeled as an ‘automatic loom.’ You smiled at Logan, your excitement clear. "Can you imagine how much time this would save?"

Logan nodded, though you could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. "Yeah, I can see how it'd be useful."

You moved to the next display, but Logan lingered for a moment. When he finally caught up, you were already studying a painting—a soft, pastoral scene that contrasted with the industrial energy around you.

"It's beautiful, isn’t it?" you said, glancing at him.

Logan’s gaze flicked to the painting, but quickly returned to you. "Yeah," he said, though it was clear he wasn’t talking about the art.

You felt his eyes on you again and looked up, meeting his gaze. There was something there—something that made your heart skip. Logan had always been protective, always hovering just close enough to shield you if need be. But this felt different, like there was more to it now.

"You sure this ain’t boring for you?" you asked, trying to lighten the moment. "I know you’re not one for crowds."

Logan gave a quiet grunt, his version of a chuckle. "It’s fine. Long as you’re enjoying yourself."

You smiled, touched by the sentiment. "I am. Thanks for coming with me."

For a while, you wandered together in silence, taking in the sights and sounds of the exhibition hall. The crowds around you buzzed with excitement, but the space between you and Logan felt almost separate—like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

At one point, you stopped in front of a display showcasing early electric light bulbs. "Look at that," you said, pointing to the glass bulbs flickering with soft light. "They’re saying these will replace gas lamps soon."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Doesn’t seem right, replacing something that’s worked for so long."

"Change is good sometimes," you said, glancing at him. "It keeps things moving forward."

Logan met your eyes, his expression soft but thoughtful. "Guess I’ve never been good with change."

You tilted your head slightly, sensing the weight behind his words. "Maybe you just haven’t found the right reason to embrace it yet."

For a moment, Logan didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on you, like he was trying to make sense of something. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Maybe."

As the afternoon wore on, the two of you eventually stepped outside the exhibition hall, the sun low in the sky and the city’s evening glow starting to take over. The air felt cooler now, a welcome relief after the warmth of the crowded hall.

You walked beside Logan in comfortable silence, but the charged undercurrent between you hadn’t faded. It felt like something had shifted—like you’d both acknowledged a deeper connection, even if neither of you had fully put it into words yet.

"You want to get something to eat?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you said, smiling up at him. "There’s a place not far from here. They make the best stew."

Logan nodded, falling into step beside you again as you made your way toward the small restaurant you had in mind. The quiet between you was easy, but there was an unspoken understanding that something had changed between the two of you today. Neither of you said it out loud, but you didn’t need to.

As you entered the restaurant, the warm scent of food filled the air, and you found a table near the back, away from the main crowd. Logan took the seat across from you, his eyes scanning the room out of habit, but eventually settling back on you.

"This place isn’t so bad," he said, giving a small nod of approval.

You laughed softly. "Glad it meets your standards."

Logan smirked, but there was a softness behind it. As the two of you talked over dinner, you realized just how much you enjoyed moments like this—quiet, simple, yet meaningful. It wasn’t about grand gestures or fancy places; it was about being together, about the way Logan made you feel safe and seen.

---

One day, after inviting Logan into your apartment once again, you set out to make tea like you always do.

You felt a cough building up in your throat, so you grabbed a small handkerchief from the counter and coughed into it. You had seen the school doctor while you were at work, and he said you just had a mild cold.

Logan, who was sitting on the couch, immediately turned his head to you, his heart almost beating out of his chest. He’d heard that cough before—26 years ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You turned around, still holding the handkerchief to your mouth. "Yeah?" you answered casually, noticing the tension in his voice but thinking nothing of it. “Just a little cough, nothing serious. I saw the doctor earlier, and he said it’s just a cold.”

Logan stood up slowly, his eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He took a step closer, his mind racing back to 1854, to your last days—bedridden and coughing, just like this. He had lost you then, watching helplessly as the illness took you. He couldn't shake the feeling, the memory, and the fear that history might repeat itself.

"Cold, huh?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge to it.

"Yeah, no big deal." You smiled, folding the handkerchief and putting it back in your pocket. "Really, Logan, I’m fine."

Logan’s jaw tightened. He had seen too much, lived too long to believe in coincidence. This was too familiar, too painful. And yet, here you were—alive, vibrant. This time, he couldn’t lose you again. He wouldn't.

"You should take it easy," he said, stepping closer, his tone gentler now. "You been workin' too hard at that school."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing his concern but not quite understanding the depth of it. "I’m fine, really. It’s just a little cold. Nothing that rest and tea won’t fix."

Logan didn’t argue, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. He reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently brushed his fingers against your arm, grounding himself in the fact that you were here, with him. This wasn’t 1854. But the memory haunted him.

You noticed the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he was afraid to lose you. "Hey," you said softly, resting a hand on his. "What’s really going on?"

Logan’s breath hitched for a moment, and he fought the urge to pull you closer, to tell you everything. But how could he? How could he explain that you’d been here before—that he’d watched you die, that he’d loved you once in another life, in another time? Instead, he just shook his head, the weight of those memories too heavy to share.

"Just... don’t push yourself too hard," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’ve seen people get worse when they don’t take care of themselves."

You nodded, though his intensity still lingered in your mind. "I promise, I’ll rest." You gave him a reassuring smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, you’ll make sure I do, right?"

Logan’s lips quirked into the smallest smile, but there was still something distant in his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I will."

The moment hung in the air, the unspoken weight of Logan’s past pressing down on him, though you couldn’t see it. You were the same, and yet not. The woman he had once loved and lost was standing right in front of him, alive, but without any memory of that life you’d shared.

---

You didn’t see Logan for a few days, which was unusual, ever since he started walking with you he had never missed a day.

You couldn’t help but worry a tad bit, it wasn’t like him to just not be there. Even Ida had made a few comments, including now as you sat in her apartment, just a few doors down from your own, sipping tea.

“He hasn’t been by at all?” Ida asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “That man never misses a day. He’s usually lurking outside, waitin’ to walk you home.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s been three days now.”

Ida leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “You don’t think somethin’s happened to him, do ya? That man is tough, sure, but even the toughest get into trouble sometimes.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to entertain the thought. “No, I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he just needed some time alone. He’s... not the type to explain himself much.”

Ida hummed, though she didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But if he doesn’t show up soon, you ought to go find him. He’s a good man, Y/N, and you’ve only known him a month, but it’s clear he cares about you.”

The truth of her words settled over you, heavy and unspoken. You cared about Logan too. Even if you didn’t quite understand the pull between you, it was there—undeniable. And the fact that he hadn’t shown up, without so much as a word, made your chest tighten with worry.

Later that evening, after you’d left Ida’s apartment and returned to your own, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Logan had become part of your routine, part of your day-to-day life. And now that he was gone, it felt like something was missing.

Just as you were about to turn in for the night, a knock sounded at the door.

Your heart jumped, and you rushed to open it, half expecting—half hoping—it would be Logan.

And there he was.

He stood in the doorway, his coat damp from the light rain outside, his hair slightly tousled. His eyes, though, were what caught you—the familiar intensity, but with something else lurking beneath. Something darker.

“Logan,” you breathed, stepping aside to let him in. “Where have you been? I was starting to get worried.”

Logan stepped into your small apartment, his broad frame somehow filling the space, making it feel even smaller. He didn’t say anything right away, just ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as if he were trying to gather his thoughts.

“I needed time,” he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.

“Time for what?” you asked gently, sensing that whatever he was about to say wasn’t easy for him.

Logan glanced at you, then looked away, as if he couldn’t meet your eyes. His jaw tightened, and you could see the struggle on his face—like he was wrestling with something deep inside. After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, the words sounding foreign in his mouth, like he wasn’t used to saying them.

You blinked, taken aback. Logan was the last person you ever expected to hear those words from. “Scared of what?”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you saw the vulnerability there, raw and unguarded. “Of losing you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Logan… we’ve only known each other for a month,” you said softly, though the words felt strange even as they left your mouth. Because deep down, it felt like you’d known him much longer—like this connection between you was more than just a month in the making.

“I know,” Logan said, his voice rough. “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

There was something in the way he was looking at you, something desperate and pained, like he was holding onto you with everything he had. You wanted to ask him why, to understand what had happened in his past to make him feel this way. But instead, you just reached out, your hand finding his.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m right here.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and before you could say anything more, he stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch rough but gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. It was just the two of you, standing in the quiet of your apartment, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

And then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was urgent, almost desperate, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t put into words. His lips moved against yours with a fierceness that took your breath away, and for a moment, all you could do was hold onto him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as you kissed him back.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words, and you wanted to promise him that he wouldn’t—that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. But something about the way he said it made you hesitate, made you wonder what he wasn’t telling you.

“Logan…” you started, your voice soft. “What aren’t you telling me?”

For a long moment, he didn’t answer. His hand dropped from your face, and he took a step back, his expression guarded once again. The walls he’d let down just moments ago seemed to be rising back up.

“I’ve lived a long time,” he said finally, his voice low. “I’ve lost people before. People I cared about. I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, but there was something else there too—something unspoken. “Logan… who did you lose?”

His eyes flickered with pain, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he just shook his head, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You wanted to press him, to understand, but you also knew that Logan wasn’t someone who opened up easily. So instead, you just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. He stiffened at first, but then his arms slowly came around you, pulling you close as if he was afraid to let go.

“I’m here,” you whispered against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For now, that was all you could offer him. And for now, it seemed to be enough.

---

You and Ida sat in the back of the rattling carriage, bundled against the cold, the wheels creaking beneath the weight of your bags from the market. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, promising rain before nightfall and a storm by morning.

“Supposed to come down hard tomorrow,” Ida said, clutching her shawl tighter. “Glad we got everything done now. Don’t wanna be caught in that mess.”

You smiled, shifting a bag of potatoes off your lap. “It’ll be nice to have an excuse to stay in and rest. Logan’s been after me about taking it easy anyway.”

Ida gave you a knowing look, her brow lifting. “That man likes you, Y/N. More than you think.”

You shrugged, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “I know he cares. He’s just… different. Keeps to himself.”

“He’s different, alright,” Ida muttered, peering out the carriage window. “But he’s not the type to care about someone without good reason. Don’t let that one get away.”

You didn’t respond, but your thoughts drifted to Logan—how he had kissed you that night, holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. There was something ancient in his touch, like he had carried the weight of loss for far too long. You didn’t fully understand it, but you felt it—something deeper than words or time.

The carriage jolted suddenly, jerking you forward in your seat. The horse up front whinnied, wild and panicked.

“Whoa!” the driver shouted, yanking hard on the reins.

You clutched Ida’s arm, your heart racing. “What’s going on?”

The driver cursed, standing in his seat to get a better look. “The damn harness snapped! The horse—”

Before he could finish, the horse bolted, the broken leather straps slapping wildly behind it. The carriage lurched, and you and Ida were thrown sideways. The wheels screamed as they spun out of control, the driver shouting as he fought to keep it steady.

“Hold on!” he yelled.

The world tilted violently as the carriage careened off the road, slamming into a ditch. Bags spilled across the floor, and you hit your shoulder hard against the side wall. Ida’s scream filled your ears, but the noise was drowned out by the thunder of the collapsing carriage, wood splintering and wheels buckling beneath the weight.

And then—nothing.

The carriage stopped, shuddering to a halt in a twisted heap at the bottom of the ditch. The rain started, light at first, pattering against the wreckage.

---

Logan was walking back toward your tenement building, the collar of his coat turned up against the cold drizzle, when he saw it—just beyond the next block, down by the road.

The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.

A carriage, overturned, one of the wheels still spinning lazily. The horse was gone, its reins dangling uselessly from the harness. People were gathering, but no one dared approach the wreckage yet.

Logan’s heart stopped. He knew—he just knew.

His feet moved before he could think. He sprinted toward the wreck, rain falling harder now, soaking through his clothes. His boots hit the muddy road with heavy thuds, splashing water as he ran faster than any ordinary man should.

By the time he reached the scene, a bystander had climbed down, trying to pry the splintered door open. Logan shoved him aside without a word, claws itching under his skin, ready to tear the door off if need be.

“Someone’s inside!” the man stammered. “Two women—”

Logan didn’t wait. His hands found the edge of the door, and with a growl of effort, he yanked it off the hinges. Inside the crumpled interior, he saw you, half-buried beneath scattered bags.

“Y/N!” His voice cracked, raw and frantic. He dropped to his knees and pulled you free, cradling you in his arms.

You stirred, barely conscious, your head lolling against his chest. Blood streaked your temple, and your breath came in shallow gasps.

“Logan…?” you whispered, confused, your hand weakly grasping his coat.

“I got you,” Logan said, his voice breaking. “I’m here. You’re gonna be fine.” But even as he said it, dread gnawed at him—this wasn’t fine. It was happening again.

Ida groaned nearby, struggling to sit up, but Logan’s focus was locked on you. He pressed a hand against your side, where your ribs felt wrong under his touch. He could feel the heat of your blood seeping into his fingers.

“No, no, no…” Logan whispered, shaking his head. The storm raged around him, but all he could hear was the shallow rasp of your breathing.

You looked up at him, your gaze unfocused, but your lips curled into the faintest smile. “I told you… I’d rest…”

“Don’t,” Logan begged, his forehead pressing against yours. “Don’t do this. Stay with me. You hear me? Stay.”

You blinked slowly, your hand slipping from his coat. “I… tried…”

Logan clenched his jaw, biting down hard against the scream building in his chest. His healing mutation would keep him alive through anything—but it couldn’t save you. Not now. Not again.

He kissed your forehead, his breath shuddering. “I can’t lose you again, darlin’. Not like this…”

Your breath hitched once, then stopped.

“No,” Logan whispered, rocking you in his arms. “No, no, no…”

His hands trembled as he pulled you closer, your lifeless body limp against him. The rain poured down harder, drumming on the wreckage, but Logan didn’t care. He sat there, holding you, feeling the familiar, soul-crushing emptiness settle in his chest like an old wound tearing open again.

And still, he held you. Because this time, just like 26 years ago, he couldn’t let go.

in this chapter logan is 48 years old and reader is around 22-24 years old. just a reminder that going forward there is going to be an age gap between the two since logan obviously keeps getting older.

[clairescotcoutts]

So, about The Veilguard.

This post is:

Long.

Spoiler full.

Read at your peril.

So.

The fact that I devoured the game in virtually less than three days should speak for itself; I was worried about the playing style, I was unsure about the combo system, and having only two companions travel alongside the MC felt a little alien to me and also added to my anxiety. (Yes, I’ve played Mass Effect, yes, I’ve been in a fighting trio before, but never in Dragon Age.) I thought, “There’s only three of us?! We’re gonna die so much and so hard.”

Turns out I didn’t die so many times as I’d expected, so yay me.

I had refused to watch anything that had to do with the plot, with the exception of the trailers, because I wanted my experience to be fresh and untainted by expectations. Of course, I had hopes — but other than that, I dove in blind and without any sense of direction.

As you know, the depths of the ocean hold both horror and beauty, so here are mine; I shall start with the horrors so all the bad air is cleared out first.

My primary horror is that, save a few points, the game very clearly follows BioWare’s own canon, in which the Hero of Ferelden must have died to stop the Fifth Blight, and thus there is no Kieran. Morrigan plays a pivotal role yet again, but her presence implies that the decisions made in previous games are… well, your own, but not the world’s own. So, no Kieran, and it is heavily suggested that it was Morrigan who drank from the Vir’Abelasan. Even if she hadn’t, turns out she ends up with a piece of Mythal inside her anyway, granted by a regretful (and finally gone) Flemeth.

Story-telling wise, well, I don’t know if it was the best choice— I just know it bummed me out a bit to find some of my decisions discarded, not considered at all.

My second horror is the absence of either Hawke or Stroud. The events at Amaranthine are mentioned, but (unless I missed a codex entry) there’s no word on what happened to the brave soul left in the Fade to fight that giant monster demon. Since I always leave Stroud behind (because Alistair is and always will be a king to me), I can’t say I’m suffering to know his fate, but it would’ve been nice to confirm something. 

At the end of Inquisition, Morrigan narrates that should Hawke live, they go to Weisshaupt, but soon all news from there ends. What happened?! Am I missing something found only in the comics or books?

Also what happened to the rest of the companions? What about the woman made Divine in Inquisition? Whether it’s Leliana, Cassandra or Vivienne, you’d think the Divine would have something to say about two ancient elven gods turning the world tits up.

What about the Qunari who are not part of the Antaam? Are they in agreement with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain? Is Seheron torn asunder like Minrathous?

Why is nobody remarking on the fact that the Crows buy (or used to buy) people?! I love the Antivan Crows, I do, but one cannot forget Zevran and all he told us about them.

Those are my particular points of horror. 

Now, to the rest.

Veilguard is a game that doesn’t hold back. It’s out to punch you in the guts and kick you in the feelings, and boy does it do it brilliantly. The sacrifices are real. The choices are heavy and carry weight on them that slumps you down (especially if you’re extra sensitive, like me) throughout the game. The dilemma and problems your companions face are heart wrenching, and you want them all to thrive. Yes, even the one who was hardened because you can’t bloody be in two places at once. These companions are well fleshed-out, they’re alive, they’re complex and they are so beautiful to live and travel with. The emotional moments they have, I felt them, I suffered with them, I cried. I /cried/, which had never happened to me with a videogame before. And not just because this companion is my favourite or that topic hits a bit close to home— not just that. It’s because they’re amazingly written and acted out. They feel so real.

The locations are gorgeous (I especially fell in love with Treviso), and I love how much you’re able to explore. I love that you can pet animals. I love that you can interact with the world in front of you. I /love/ that you don't miss dialogue even if you get into a fight because the companions re-start conversations now.

The NPCs? My children. Isabela is fire, as always; Antoine, Evka, Viago and Teia have my whole heart. The Mourn Watch is fascinating and the Shadow Dragons are bold, united and righteous. I really like that the Veil Jumpers don’t diss on the Dalish just because they know more— they understand that, as a people, they are one. And they’re accepting of everyone, not just elves!

I simply adore Rook as a protagonist. Not just because they give purple Hawke, and I love Hawke, but because again, they feel human and real. They know this is well above their paygrade, and they’re in way over their heads, but they still step up and lead because damn, someone has to. Iron Bull would be so proud. They are fun, they are caring, they are talkative and they know they’re drowning, but can’t afford to stop swimming.

Both in Origins and Inquisition it felt as though we were The Chosen One, even if in the latter one tried to swear it off and deny any possible divine intervention, but in DA: 2 and here, we are just people trying their best with the worst circumstances, and to me, that’s beautiful. Rook is a delightful protagonist.

The game allows you to choose who you’re going to be and /how/ you’re going to be thus. You can be cis, you can be trans, you can be neither and you can be both. No limits now.

Which leads me to another point I simply adored: how the questions of gender are treated. It’s really big to have an NB character go through their own acceptance process before our very eyes. While in Origins (and a bit in Inquisition too) you have the choice to be shocked that there are people who like their same gender, this game is Thedas saying “The world is big, the world is complex, and people everywhere are not defined by your expectations or rules. It’s not even an option. Deal with it.”

Regarding the magic, I’m not even mad it looks and feels different. After all, Dorian used to say that “the South is so charming and rustic”, and now I see that’s because what he saw in Ferelden and Orlais was not what he is used to. Even in Absolution we see that the way Tevinter used magic is distinctly unique and not how it is done south of Arlathan. I understand it. I like it. It’s not as if there had been no changes in the designs of demons and darkspawn before, and now that’s what they look like. It’s fine. Time has passed and people are allowed to make different creative choices.

Now, to Solas… Solas. Oh, Solas. I understand you so much better now.

Veilguard really helps put into perspective some bits of dialogue from previous games. Why does this 8-ball care so much about spirits and the Fade? Gods, because he /is/ them, and the Fade used to be his home. Every time he has to hear that spirits are monsters or unreal he takes it personally, and how could he not? People are saying he’s a monster, he’s not real, and nobody knows any better because they wouldn’t believe him anyway. Now I understand why he gets so worked up if you make Cole more human—you’re doing to him what Mythal did to Solas himself. You’re forcing him to be something else and Solas knows it hurts. (Also, Cole is happier as a spirit— “Thank you for helping me find this again. For believing in me. You don't know what it means”, he says, and now it hits so differently.)

I have to remark on some things I’ve read that have shocked me— first of all being the interpretation of Solas and Mythal’s relationship. Like Taash, you can assume “they were doing it”, however, I don’t think they ever loved each other like that. Their bond, to me, is that of a queen and her most loyal knight, a “king and lionheart” sort of situation if you will. Solas knows her better than anyone else, certainly, but the way I see it, that right there is his commander, inspiration and also, his heaviest shackle.

Their relationship merits another post altogether, I believe, as does Solas and Lavellan’s.

All in all, the good, to me, far outweights the bad.

Give the Veilguard a chance before you discard them, enjoy the appearance of some of the characters you love, enjoy getting to know the new heroes. Give yourself the option of having an informed opinion before you love or hate.

Also, petition for Solas to let his hair grow out again.

That's it, for now.

[iamthezip]

Charles Rowland Exploration

I have a question for the Dead Boy Detective fandom. A fun exploration of character psychology and development.What would Charles Rowland be like if he wasn't "saved"? 

For context, I've read a lot of Alive Boy AUs. I've seen some where both boy save each other from their respective "deaths". I've mostly seen ones where Edwin has lived through the "prank sacrifice" and whatever non-Hell bad came out of it and is around to save Charles in the attic from freeing to death. Lastly, I've seen a few where both boys have survived their ordeals and met each other afterwards. And this is the scenario I've been thinking about. (I'm gonna add here that I've thoroughly enjoyed every Alive Boy fic I've read. My question is because my brain likes to go down rabbit holes, not because I'm criticing or criticizing any fic I've read).In the context of the show, we see Edwin's reaction to his trauma and not being "saved". I feel like his dislike and distrust of the living is in part due to how he died and that no one cared enough to stop it, to save him. Plus, adding in his childhood. We know he has a fear of dolls. We know he's hypervigilant about Hell - aside from Niko's death, Edwin is always the first to mention the need to get away before Death comes. This is often carried over into fics. Alive Boy Edwin usually is written with a PTSD response to his near-death - nightmares, hypervigilance, distrust, withdrawal from social engagement, etc. Sometimes even a fear of having the door unlocked or fear of being tied down/grabbed. 

In the context of the show, we never seen Charles who wasn't "saved". I'm putting quotation marks here because I don't mean saved as in death prevented. In the show, Charles still dies, but I feel like Edwin still saves him in a way. Charles experienced betrayal by everyone meant to care for him and protect him. His father, his friends, his school - covering up his death definitely counts as betrayal even if it happened after the fact. But at the moment of his death, a stranger appears and is kind. A boy who spent 70 years in Hell after being sacrificed by his classmates, and who has every reason to be the worst person ever, decides to be kind - to keep him company, to get him extra blankets and a lantern, to read to him. It doesn't even end there. Charles isn't alone after his death as Edwin was. Charles has Edwin at his side, and he can trust Edwin in a way he couldn't trust others because Edwin was there for him. He didn't take advantage of Charles being weak from cold or unable to smile and talk his way out of trouble. He didn't have anything to gain by helping Charles, and Charles would later learn that hanging around a dying person was a risk to Edwin. So Charles isn't alone after his death and is with someone he feels he can trust. To add to that, Charles has a purpose (protecting Edwin from Hell and solving cases, however long it took them to get to that). This also gives Charles a direction for any anger/rage and also a reason to keep up the smile. "Keep up spirits for all of us" is what Charles tells Crystal. Yes, Charles still has his trauma responses - see the entirety of ep 3-5. Those responses are almost entirely tied to his father's abuse, though. We don't necessary see if he has a trauma response to his death. I know the fandom headcanons things like a fear of water/drowning, being cold when he's weak/injured/drained, etc. But we don't explicitly see the response to his friends and school betraying him very much, aside from a couple reactions mainly in Edwin's "we didn't matter". So the Charles we see in the show is the result of a boy who died after being betrayed again and again but was "saved" by another.

Now, take that away. Take away Edwin and his kindness and the purpose he gave Charles. Take away that safety and that outlet and that reason to keep smiling. What happens then? Would he still try to be always smiling? Would the anger and rage by at the tip of his tongue and his fist always ready to throw? Would he even be willing to try to befriend Edwin when they eventually meet? 

What would Charles Rowland be like if he wasn't "saved"?(Please bare in mind, this whole thing was typed at 2 am cause I couldn't sleep until I got it out of my head.)

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko Chapter 165 thoughts

At this point we're just suffering.

I cannot get on board with Hikaru as a villainous mastermind. The fuck were we doing for the entire movie arc where he was shown in a sympathetic light? Why in ch 155 did he supposedly have a change of heart only for a plot twist to wreck everything?

It's not that Hikaru would have been absolved of responsibility for Yura's murder because he was abused. It's just that before the stupid Nino twist he wasn't an undeniable monster

Akasaka created someone more interesting, human, and who was flawed in a way that wasn't over the top, and then yanked it away

You're telling me that sad boy Hikaru who blamed himself for Ai leaving him began to manipulate Ryosuke and Nino mere months after the breakup? Please

Anyway... grief is terrible. This chapter was miserable to read

Some people are using this as an opportunity to shit on Kana which is ridiculous. Is slapping a corpse in front of his family not great? Yeah. Does she have every damn reason to? I'd say so

Heartbreak is not just a phrase. It actually hurts. It can cause chest pain, headaches, shortness of breath. There's something called broken heart syndrome which can be caused by grief or stress. It affects the heart's ability to pump blood effectively

Point being that grief is physically and emotionally painful and a breakdown is totally normal

I agree with Gotanda's reasoning about releasing 15 YRL, however the film is now inextricably tied to Aqua's death

Where is Ai in all this? Why isn't she on this poster??? I thought this was a film about her life

Her name may very well never be mentioned again despite being the backbone of this story

This is why cult leader Hikaru is the best character. He's the only person who has remembered her since ch 155

Judging by her white stars, Ruby is probably going to pull through. While I don't want a nihilistic end, we have ONE chapter left. Can this really be earned?

And can it be done in a way that doesn't accidentally portray Aqua's murder-suicide in a positive light in the sense that Ruby living on and achieving her dreams reinforces what Aqua died for?

Next chapter: So here we are, very nearly at the end of all things. I am glad you are here with me, OnK fan community. It's been a journey.

Send your good vibes to marillust, a super talented fanartist, who is really sad about losing Aqua. They're cycling between depression and denial and I really get that.

I feel like I have to defend my dislike of this ending by talking about previously established themes, bad twists, etc. in order to not be shouted down by the "what did you expect? This was always a tragedy" crowd, but I'm just gonna say it.

I wanted Aqua to move on and be happy! I wanted Ai's wish for her kids to grow up healthy to be fulfilled. I wanted Aqua to call both his mothers "mom." I wanted him to value his life and see that the people around him loved him and needed him.

I didn't want Ai's death to be meaningless. I didn't want Ruby to lose her most important person. I didn't want Miyako to lose her son, Kana to never get to say "I love you," and Akane to never rebuild her relationship with Aqua.

I wish we'd gotten this and this and a spinoff manga about this.

All right, it's fine. Deep breaths. Time to stare at Ai art until I feel better. Here's a sketch Mengo did of her riding a dragon. Isn't that cute?

[pridequest64]

The Catwoman Family

Selina Kyle attempts to rob Wayne Manor early in her career. Bruce catches her but the two strike up an instant rapport. Selina "Gives up" her stealing ways and the two eventually marry.

The newlywed couple decided to go to the circus where they watch the Flying Grayson's fatal show. They quickly adopt young Dick Grayson who soon joins Selina as the first ever Stray.

Some years go by with Bruce still none the wiser to his family's hidden life. On one particular day out the Wayne family is found strolling along Robbinson park when a young thief snatches Selina's purse. The trio chase down the purse snatcher as he ducks into an abandoned apartment building. Dick is the first to find the younger boy who is now huddled with an even smaller kid, purse held tightly against his chest. Dick easily recognizes the youngest boy as Timothy Drake.

Tim's parents had died on an overseas trip, and their entire fortune was lost in legal courts. Tim was forced into foster care but quickly ran away and was forced to live out on the streets. This is where he meets Jason Todd, an orphan himself the two formed a strong bond as they attempted to survive on Gotham's deadliest streets.

Selina can't help but pity the poor boys. And having noticed the skills with which Jason was able to evade capture for some minutes she offers to adopt the young boys. Bruce is shocked but Selina quickly reminds him of the background she comes from and the way they had meet. She explains that she wants to help the poor duo live the life she has been given and never resort to stealing again.

And though she may love the two boys deeply even she knows the real reason for her kindness is found in growing the ranks of The CatFamily.

(I'm sure others have come up with similar concepts to this. If so, I hope I was able to add enough of my own flair to make this post stand out. Alfred is still a big part of Bruce's life though he feigns ignorance over Selina's night life. Bruce has his inklings of what she may be doing but has never followed through with his assumptions because he loves his wife too much. And despite the way I worded the last paragraph I do want to point out that Selina through all of this one hundred percent loves her kids. Yes, she uses them for her gain, but she treats them as if they were her own kids. Not sure how Damian or Steph, Cass and all the others would fit in. But hey that's up to your own interpretation. Hope you Enjoyed :)

[katebisxop]

familiar face | w.m & n.s

summary: wanda finds herself in an unexpected situation.

warnings: wanda is dead here (I REFUSE TO BELIEVE SHE ACTUALLY IS), nicky appearance, kinda angsty but also fluff i guess??, not that well written, i havent watched wandavision and it's been a while since mom so!!

wc: 949

wanda was lost.

all she could remember was sitting on mount wundagore, using her might and magic to cut the castle in half and bring it down upon herself.

the pain was too brief to be registered, and the next thing she knew, she had been transported somewhere.

the place was familiar in a way, but also new. it was dark and empty, no landscape whatsoever. wanda was surrounded by black, as if she had been dropped into a lightless box. she was barefoot, beneath her it felt like cold tiles.

she looked around. there was nothing to see - no people, no sound, not even a reflection.

an anguished cry crawled out of her throat. she was alone once more. she had her brother, then pietro died. she had vision, then he died. she had her sons, and even they were gone also.

no family, no friends, no lovers, and no enemies. wanda maximoff was truly and fully alone.

she fell down on a floor that didn't exist, sobs racking her body as she buried her face in her hands.

wanda sat there for who knew how long, eyes slowly growing puffy and her nose bright red. if this was how she was to spend eternity, wasn't death better? but if this were death - was it a punishment?

"i'm sorry my mother isn't here to take you."

wanda stopped immediately, having heard a child's voice. her head raised slowly from her palms, turning around to lock eyes with a boy barely past childhood.

another stifled cry from her as her hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock. the boy was familiar - too familiar. the soft smile and the way his eyes looked at her with so much kindness. in fact, he looked quite a bit like one of her own sons.

"billy?" wanda whispered, still in shock, hesitant to approach or even move. she had just had an interaction with one of billy's variants before this, and it wasn't at all pleasant.

the boy's head tilted, confused at the unfamiliarity of the name. "i'm afraid i'm not who you think. my name is nicholas."

the scarlet witch exhaled. "do you know where we are, nicholas?"

nicky smiled patiently. "waiting for my mother."

"and- and who is your mother?"

the boy paused, thinking carefully of what to answer next. "rio."

he sat next to wanda, ignoring her little flinch. "do you want to sit down for a while?"

she nodded, appreciating the patience of the small boy. how the tables have turned - she still remembered the amount of patience she had to have while raising her twins.

they sat there for a while, a mother and a son, in comfortable silence. wanda's sniffles gradually ceased, until the place was quiet once again. but this time she felt safe - knowing that she wasn't alone, that she was just waiting (for what, she didn't know), and she had company.

"tell me about yourself, nicholas."

he smiled again, twisting so that he sat facing her, and began relaying his memories to the witch before him. he spoke about the cozy little cottage he used to live in with his mama. he spoke about the wide, grassy green fields; of the townsfolk he visited every week with his mama; of the forest he was so used to and the goat he loved caring for, and the song he and his mama made. 'down, down, down the road, down the witches' road' he sang, giving a little sample.

but wanda caught on to a specific word. "witches?"

"yeah." he didn't elaborate. "my mama made the whol song with me - it started with 'windy road'. i miss her a lot. i haven't seen her since my mother took me away."

wanda's eyebrows knitted together. "who's mother? who's mama?"

"okay. mother is rio. she's who we're waiting for. mama is agatha."

"agatha?" her heart started to fill with dread.

"agatha harkness."

oh. but before she could recoil, a gap opened up in front of her, like a tv screen or perhaps a window.

her view was initially covered by foliage, which then parted to reveal a teenage boy lying on the ground, passed out. his shirt was torn, blood gushing out of a wound. he had curly hair and black eyeliner, but wanda recognized him immediately. not by appearance, no - she couldn't understand who this boy was - but for whatever reason she knew in her heart that this was billy.

wanda's black-tipped fingers pressed to her mouth, eyes filling up once more with unshed tears. then her eyes found agatha, and rage welled up in her until she realized that the other witch, too, had tears in her eyes.

"don't." agatha whispered to a woman clad in green. nicholas pointed at her. "that's who we're waiting for. but i think she's too busy to get you herself."

the image closed and wanda found herself staring at nothing again.

"what?" the scarlet witch breathed out, looking at the boy, confused.

"death," he said, "is also a name my mother goes by."

he stood up, extending his hand. "i'm sorry i can't explain more, too. but i think we should go."

"t-to where?" she accepted his hand and got up too.

but the son of death and agatha harkness only smiled at the scarlet witch. "on."

wanda sent a last look to the spot where the vision had just been. weight she didn't know was there lifted from her heart, for her enemy is now there to protect one of her sons, and her enemy's own now holds her hand. she must return the favor.

and so they walked.

a/n: im not satisfied but i randomly had the vision and had to put it down. might make a headcanon version cuz itll be easier

[postsforposting]

subtext

this is a headbutt

this is also wade-as-deadpool's conception. angel is a "virgin mary"/mary magdalene foil. that headbutt is head-in-butt aka anal. he conceived himself, an impossible conception. created before he was conceived, then died and was born again.

not immaculate but out of sin--because it's out of wedlock. wade pulls vanessa's proposal ring out of his ass, where he was saving it for marriage. vanessa's "jinx" reply confirms her anal question was also a proposal.

her first proposal to him was on women's day, but he got cold feet. marriage is "creating a new life together" which is why it has to be on christmas, jesus's birthday. women's day is march 8; 8 is infinity/"Forever" in another direction, so he's also saying he doesn't want forever with her. wolvie, on the other hand, is the 8th variant we meet.

this means both wade and deadpool know the themes, subtext, and symbolism of the stories they're in. wade knew he was in a story before he was deadpool. the scene with the pizza boy in someone else's apartment is him telling us that he knows there's an audience and he's being watched.

even as "just" wade, he knew he was destined for something else out of his reach. that vanessa wasn't "endgame". she was "the one" for wade, but he knew he wasn't going to be "just" wade for much longer. he could only keep it up all year, not forever. he proposes at the end: an attempt to save his life and create a new one, just before it's all ending. because he wanted to live, he didn't want things to end.

because endings, death and suffering, change you into someone else. that's explicitly the theme of dp2. that's why he wanted francis to fix it so he could....live again. that's why he left vanessa, and why vanessa also changed how she acts with wade after her own stint in the oxygen tank. why they broke up after they both died for realsies--because they'd changed too much and wanted different things than when they'd met.

he expected francis to get away during the bridge fight (winter soldier bridge fight reference) and reacts with fake disbelief when negasonic says francis escaped. he knows there can't be a story if he kills the villain in the first act. if there isn't a story, he doesn't exist.

he doesn't merely see the audience, he knows the structure of the story. he knows what time jumps are, and knows when scenes are played out of order: "we all know how this turned out" as he gets in the cab in dp1.

he doesn't address us directly until after dying the first time, until after his face-down staking--not crucified upright like christ nor merely the opposite, but "in another direction" because he plays for neither heaven nor hell but his own franchise.

he addresses us just before acquiring his swords, because jesus's second coming will have a sign and is not in peace but with a sword. wade was "just a man", which is why he doesn't get off on international women's day and why he forgives the pizza boy with just a confession and apology. unlike jesus the preacher, he doesn't address us during his "first coming" as wade, because that's the jesus foil. he saves during the first go round--except those he's ordered to kill by the government, something bigger than himself--and is unforgiving in the second.

deadpool is a superman though, more than a man. like jesus was "more than a man". that's why the gender jokes start up after he's deadpool, not while he's wade. he's going "in his own direction", and in another direction as deadpool: he didn't "come with a sword" ie on women's day, but as deadpool he acquired katanas and swapped from vanessa/women to play for another team. his own team, his own franchise, not mere men or women but only those as fucky fucky--cockeyed queer--as himself. specifically he fucks up and touches people worse than himself. aka worst wolverine, literally from the peanut gallery and not one of the good seats.

wolverine is the only other character referred to like deadpool is: genderqueer AND who's played for no other teams but his own. when the godly disney franchise demands that everyone find their other half in the opposite gender, playing for no one but yourself is as queer as it can get. and as homo-same-sexual as it can get.

same as yourself......"only you". only himself. vanessa demanded he show her he cared about something bigger than himself.

he couldn't because he's a....homosexual.

god-anchor-logan is the same as but also bigger than jesus. (dick joke.) deadpool has always cared about that, he just couldn't reach him. he's misunderstood by even those who should be closest to him.

he's defying the narrative of what's expected of him. is it only pansexual if you'd fuck anyone? deadpool explicitly doesn't. or is it pan-sexual if you only want a partner who is every gender and every sexuality while also none of them? just like yourself, which also makes it homo-sexual? all sexualities, all genders/sexes, ie pansexual? everything and nothing, alpha and omega?

you know, like the father, the son, and the holy spirit are supposed to be everything but also from nothing. transcendent, above it all, because it does not matter....like pan is defined as "it does not matter".

is that still pan? like how the sex jokes work both ways? pan is queer, but is queer "only you" still pan? or is it something else entirely?

the movie wants you to think about what your expectations do to people. how much can you queer something before it's "too different"? if it's not what you expected, does that make it wrong?

but in being wrong and unexpected....isn't that exactly the definition of queer? to not be textbook accurate?

vanessa is also a virgin mary/magdalene foil; francis is god, deadpool's father. oedipal complex: deadpool literally fucked his mother, subtextually fucked angel-who-is-his-mother, and did three kinds of fucking by killing his father. deliberately, because he knows how stories are supposed to work and instead of playing along, went "fuck that". he fucked his whole family in his crusade to defy the narrative.

to defy the narrative is to start your own franchise is to play for your own team is to....fuck god. as in how he addresses us as fuckface at the end of dp3. cause that was not what we expected.

that's what made it feel so right.

[thehighlordofspring]

Tamlin avoided eye contact for the rest of the walk, regretting saying anything. The silence had been nice. Now, she was holding back tears and he just felt guilty. The last thing Caiden needed was to see his two new parents fighting. Tamlin remembered being a little boy whose parents were constantly arguing. He remembered the fear. He still felt it.

It was safe to say that many of the things Briar said sounded much the way his mother had once plead his father for attention, affection, and kindness. All his father had ever done was take his wife when he wanted her, have his way, and leave her crying on the mattress.

That isn’t who I am.

Tamlin clenched his jaw, bracing himself for the wave of anger that usually followed memories of how his father had treated his mother; but nothing came. He just felt hollow, empty — a shell of the man he’d once been.

There had been a time when he’d loved to laugh, when the flowers in his garden had been the place that he whispered his secrets, when his heart was made of stone but still wild and carefree. There had been a time when he believed in love. Love which was redeeming, and powerful. Love strong enough to break the fiercest of curses.

His heart began racing. He inhaled sharply, backing away from the gate. Tamlin began muttering under his breath, pulling at his hair, and trying to relieve the pressure in his head. No, no, no, no. Not again.

The last time this happened — people had been hurt. Seriously, hurt. His control of his magic might be better now, but that didn’t mean it was not dangerous.

Belief seemed useless now and his hands were cold. He still lived with the silent wish that the grave had swallowed him like so many of his friends. Like Andras, who’d sacrificed his own life and his future with a family, for a single chance at breaking a curse. Like, Feyre — who’d broken it; but truly died, without her humanity.

Like Eiley.

Like Mama.

Why did he keep going when the entire world kept trying to swallow him beneath it? If he didn’t believe, why did he still try?

Deep down within him, tangled inside the webs of despair and anger — lived a quiet whisper.

You deserved better than all of this. What would you do if you could do it all again?

Would he launch himself into the great unknown and follow a love that he did not believe in? Could he truly learn to care about someone whose care for him was so loud that it deafened every doubt he had in himself?

I can’t. His eyes were spinning. His heart was pounding upon his chest like an angry fist. It hadn’t been the same since the almost wedding.

Broken heart syndrome.

Either way, Tamlin knew that no matter what happened between him and Briar, his heart would never be the same again. He’d let hope in and hope was a stubborn bastard.

The ache in his chest only continued to grow. He backed away, tripping over his own feet and retreating back into the forest. He had to get away from here. This kind of magic would terrify any human within visual distance.

Broken hearts were not beautiful when they barred their teeth.

This Life is Sweeter Than Fiction (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Daylight folded through the narrow window in the room of the inn and warmed Tamlin’s face, urging him to wake. He wasn’t a morning person. Given his proclivity to stay up late into the night, waking up was not exactly his favorite thing. He was used to waking up to a cold bed and sore body, pained from a night of thrashing through his nightmares alone. Instead, this morning, he woke to the gentle breath of a female on his neck.

Still sleepy, his dreams had a hold on him, and he remembered the early days before the mountain — before all hell rained upon his court, before he’d lost his faith in himself, and in love. Yet, he woke further and the body next his own did not line up with memory, only emotion.

The way he’d danced around the lines with Briar last night was not far from Tamlin’s mind as he woke. Mornings? Those, he didn’t like. Morning affection? Oh, how sweet it was to taste.

Still, the High Lord pushed a reminder of his boundaries into his view, forcing away the rose tinted glasses.

Sleeping together was different than sleeping together.

He carefully climbed from the bed and pulled the blankets back up to Briar’s shoulder. A shower would do him some good, but they did not need more temptation. Still, she tended to panic when he disappeared. Tamlin pursed his lips and entered the bathing room, locking it twice, magically and manually.

The cold water dripped down from the pipes and once again settled him back into a stern sense of reality. They had a purpose here. This wasn’t a vacation…nor a honeymoon. It was a rescue. At least one of them needed to keep their head on straight.

He pulled his clothes on and wrapped a towel around his long hair, leaving the bathroom with a toothbrush. Sure — he could use magic to power through these tasks; but apparently he needed to get better at being human. That meant brushing his teeth with a small, infernal, tickly device.

By the time he turned around the privacy screen and into the room, Briar was awake.

Well. She said she wanted him to practice being human.

He furrowed his brows, with a teasing smile. “Hush. High Lords have dental hygiene too.”

[yellow-faerie]

The Story of Bakkru and Misu

or, The Boy Who Lived, and Died, and Lived Again

In the slave quarters beneath one of Nal Hutta's largest auction houses, a grandmother is coming to the end of her life; her family - those that can be there - come to her side. There, they hear the story of Bakkru and Misu, an Ekkreth tale about dancing and fire, and freedom and death, and the bond between a grandmother and the child she helped raise.

I tell you this story to save your life.

If you're interested in any commentary on the choices I make in this story with the Amavikka or Amatakka, as well as some general thoughts on the Amavikka of Nal Hutta, check under the readmore :)

First of all, thank you for coming down here to check out my inane ramblings about the Amavikka people in the wider galaxy (in this case, Nal Hutta) for more words than in the actual fic - I will almost definitely end up writing stuff for other planets/groups, just you wait.

Second of all, huge thanks to @adragonsfriend and @looseleafteeaves who've both made dictionaries and guides that I used extensively through writing this, I would probably have given up if they hadn't been available so…thanks for sharing those to the general public, and for creating them in the first place!

The whole language and culture was originally created by @/fialleril but if you have any interest in Amatakka and the Amavikka beyond that, their dictionaries and guides are a really good place to go to (and that is where I get most of the words that I use from).

And last of all, here's the fic commentary!

Names

There are several new names and characters in this - I'll start with the characters I made for the framing part, and then I'll do the names for the actual tale.

A general note on Amavikka names: first names tend (not always) to be just a word from Amatakka, although there is some variance - this isn't always the case, but I've decided it tends to be even more common within the Nal Hutta community and so all of the characters have first names in this pattern.

Similarly, last names tend to be two words put together. Again, there are exceptions (especially if the Amavikka in question was not born into the community and has a name they wish to hold onto from before they were enslaved) but I've opted against using any in this fic for reasons known as, I think it's way too fun to make up names in this style haha

OK, so onto the actual names:

Qelin Omerukka

the name Qelin is literally the verb 'to talk, to tell a story', and it's perhaps a little on the nose but then again, so are several names throughout the Star Wars lore

Omerukka means 'Lightspinner' and is the name her mother and father made for themselves when they were married

(I have a small headcanon that one thing that a couple can do when they get married is to mix their names together, so there is always something that connects them - this is most common on worlds where slaves get sold off planet a lot, like on Nal Hutta, and less common on world like Tatooine where the slave trade tends to be far more local. As always, there are exceptions to the rules)

Sudu, Orrin, Lutlu and Rethka, the children of Qelin

Sudu is a word that means 'whirling, spinning, swirling' - Nal Hutta Amavikka are likely to see this name and think of the swirling eddies that you sometimes get in water due to the unstable catacombs beneath much of the planets surface, that can be incredibly dangerous is you are in the water and too close to them

Orrin is a word that means 'bird of prey' - this is a loan word from Ryl but is often used on Nal Hutta to mean a very specific, slightly carnivorous and rather large bird of prey that targets Hutts

Lutlu is a word that means 'surprise' or literally 'chaos now!' - there is no particular connotations for this word on Nal Hutta

Rethka is a word that means 'strider, walker' - again, this is a name that would likely be quite common throughout Amavikka communities, as the idea of walking a long distance into the wilds to free yourself are very common (be it the desert or the swamp or the frozen tundra or up out of the mine tunnels), but not so common on water worlds

Shursu La-Nalikeh

Shursu, like the other names, is a word that means 'root, foundation, base', and on Nal Hutta, would probably make Amavikka think of the strong foundations of the huge swamp trees that survive

Lah-Nalikeh is a surname that means 'Wet-Life' - it's a very traditional Nal Hutta name, which has connotations of escaping and living a 'wet life' away from the homesteads within the wet swamps

Leshna Rapshmi

Leshna is a word that means 'lightning' and is an idea that is somewhat connected to the Lukka that Amavikka raised on Nal Hutta would know - where on Tatooine, Lukka is the seven winds come together, on Nal Hutta he is the storm (the thunder, the rain and the lightning) and the flood come together

Rapshmi is a surname that means 'Wiseword' which is not a surname that's particularly linked to any dialect of Amavikka

I imagine that Leshna's family was probably slaves of some sort of spacer faction and so never had a firm community to fall back on, but only what they learned from the few people they came in contact with (and I have...an idea for a tale about this, which I might just use Leshna and the Rapshmi's to tell)

She and Orrin have only been married a short while, and have yet to decide whether to merge their names or not; if they did, it would likely be Omeshmi, or 'Light of Wisdom'

Peha Rillochelii

Peha is a word that means 'to rise, to get up' which I think has connotation of freedom in it

Rillochelii on the other hand is a desert name from Tatooine, which means something like 'Dunerunner' which definitely has connotations of freedom as chelii literally means 'runaway, or escapee'

Peha was unlucky to be sold off planet and away from her family as quite a young age, but she had been old enough to remember her name which is deeply important to the Amavikka, so while she is being fostered by the grandmothers of this new quarter, she keeps that name

And that is all the names in the framing section! I know most of them barely speak, but I did want to use them to highlight some of the differences between various Amavikka dialects.

So, onto the actual myth names:

Bakkru:

Bakkru is a type of dance that fialleril commented as being a dance that was often used to convey hidden messages; on Nal Hutta, it is told to be the name of the boy who created it, but in most other Amavikka cultures this tale has been lost, or is simply not told that much

This might be because Nal Hutta is one of the worlds where slave dancers are very, very prominent and in large enough numbers that having a dance to convey secrets makes sense due to the fact that Nal Hutta is considered the luxurious homeworld of the HUtts (another world I can think of might be Zygerria, if any Amavikka ever ended up there)

Bakkru is also known as just Ru, and that is how he is referred to in any myth that he appears in (usually as a silent agent of Ekkreth, and usually to help dancers to escape their masters) beyond his origin myth

On a small tangent about the name Ru - I quite like the idea that any dancer who has learned how to dance the Bakkru and uses it, may add the prefix Ru- to their name to signal this to other people in introductions

(For example, if Peha ever were to become a dancer and she also learned Bakkru, she might introduce herself as Ru-Peha; it is less an honorific, and more a way to tell someone that they should be watching her dance very closely)

Misu

Misu literally means 'the act of sharing of memories after a loved one's death' and she is named for how she speaks often of Bakkru's memory after his death so that she might teach the rest of the people the dance that had saved their lives

Misu as a character within Amavikka mythology definitely turns up in some form in most dialects as her name is synonymous with one very important aspect of Amavikka mourning (sharing memories, one of the only things that they will have of their lost love one)

On Nal Hutta, she is used in Bakkru's story and is rather minor to the story, but on Corellia, she is the one who holds all the records of the debtors and so knows all who are enslaved that way, and speaks of their memory to anyone who comes to her, and is a major part of a lot of tales

Also her name being similar to Mittu, as in the Ebra and Mittu story on Tatooine is not a complete accident; there are a lot of parallels in the relationship between grandmother of the community and a young child, and on Nal Hutta, the story of where Tzai comes from is very different (as they do not have the Tzai plant - I still have to work out how Tzai works on Amavikka planets that aren't Tatooine, and specifically how the lore around them works)

Jula

Jula, as sort of implied/explained in the fic, means 'flame, ember' and is an epithet for Ekkreth which is particularly popular on Nal Hutta

It's not common for Ekkreth to be portrayed as anything but a living thing, but on Nal Hutta, fire is considered to be somewhat sentient and thus, Ekkreth can take it's shape

Fire in general is closely linked with the idea of freedom on Nal Hutta - just as daylight/the sun is freedom for the Amavikka confined to mines, and rain is freedom for the Amavikka of the desert, so is fire linked to freedom on Nal Hutta

Fire is quite uncommon on the planet and where it does burn, it is often put out quickly by rain or just not enough dry kindling for it to burn as everything is wet but the expensive sort of houses that Depur own that are dry - another reason why fire is considered freeing is that it will tear through those houses greedily while leaving the much damper, wetter slave quarters alone

I will say that the Ekkreth parts of this fic feel like the weakest section - I feel like Ekkreth should be more tricky than they are in this, and I'm not entirely happy with them turning into fire itself - perhaps a creature who could sit in the flames for the first conversation with Bakkru, where Bakkru thinks that he is speaking with the flames themselves, and then perhaps a creature who breathed fire for the later meeting, but I wasn't sure what creatures would fit

(All of these names come from

Some General Nal Hutta-Amavikka Worldbuilding

So there are a few things that I mention throughout the fic that I feel are worth talking about

Evokka

So Evokka - the Amavikka name for the planet - comes from the original name for Nal Hutta (in Legends), that being Evocar, which was the home of the native Evocii who got enslaved by the Hutts when they decided that Evocar would be a good new homeworld for them

I thought it would be neat if Nal Hutta was thus referred to as Evokka, a name that is a slight shift in pronunciation from the original to fit Amatakka better but which still holds the spirit of the original name in tact

Abbu-Dabbu (and Ru)

Abbu-Dabbu and Ru are both characters of myth that are mentioned in the third installation of Blue_Sunshine's Desert Sun Series, Fallout and I don't believe they are mentioned again

I used both as part inspiration for this fic, using Ru as the main character (although changing his name slightly) but using his name of the Boy Who Lived, and Died, and Lived Again as the title for this fic

Ru is probably more akin to a prophet (like Maru and Tena) than to the more godlike figures of Ar-Amu and Ekkreth, and Lukka and Leia, (and Vokkri, who I will come to later) but I did list Abbu-Dabbu with the divine figures, so I'm thinking that she probably is divine

Abbu-Dabbu is also mentioned in this fic - I'm not quite sure what to do with her within a tale centred on her yet, but I am comfortable using her as a character who is prone to turning up in stories if there is need of the character being Safe For A While

I don't think that she actually needed to be in this fic beyond her first, brief mention but she ended up there anyway, so

Anyway, she is apparently quite linked to salt which I find interesting; in my mind, this has something to do with the swamps of Nal Hutta mostly being salt water and when it is dried (such as with fire) it creates salt

So this makes me think that as a witch, Abbu-Dabbu has some level of control over fire which allows her to dry the surrounding area enough that she can create a house of salt that doesn't get dissolved in the water

(This idea of salt being left behind is slightly mentioned in the fic when Bakkru is crying and Ekkreth-as-Jula dries his tears until all that is left is salt on his skin)

A Translation of Abbu-Dabbu's name, and the Nal Hutta dialect

With this in mind, I am going to attempt to come up with a translation of her name:

So, the important things in her story are salt, fire, being a witch/magic, home, being a beacon for the lost

But if her name is made of two of these ideas smooshed together, they would probably be related due to how similar Abbu and Dabbu are, and so I would be tempted to say Salt and Fire

With the current breadth of the Amatakka language, we have some words for these ideas already

Salt: tabtu (for preserving meat and fish), tavetabtu (red salt), amnabtu (black salt)

Fire: jula (flame, ember), itza (cooking fire, hearth), and anu (which means rain on Tatooine, and daylight in the mines, and fire on Nal Hutta)

So, here is where some dialect things come into play - I am honestly quite scared to consider dialects as I am not at all a professional conlanger but someone who is just fascinated with cultures and languages and all the moving parts of them, but here goes

So I propose that Tabtu -> Dabbu

The first T changes to a D, probably through a general phonological drift in the dialect, and the second is dropped altogether - I might play around with the idea of T's getting dropped or changed in the Nal Hutta dialect, although I'm not sure yet why this might be the case

Either way, this makes the part of the name Dabbu mean salt which then means we have to think about the Abbu part

Words for Heat on Tatooine and Nal Hutta

Now, both words for fire or flame don't fit at all, so I shifted my thoughts more towards heat

Using what we have, I would probably use jula if I was going to have a heat that was aggressive or angry, and so words for heat on Tatooine probably derive from this or maybe the word for white which is linked to the hotter of the two suns

So I'm thinking something like Terajula which means flame of the desert, and might mean heat - this would probably be tempered with a time of day to let the other person know how intense the heat was, as evening heat is different to midday heat, etc.

Itza has more of an implication of being a homely sort of fire, and I don't think that on Tatooine there would be much use for a word to describe the physical warmth of a home (perhaps the metaphorical kind though)

Meanwhile, on Nal Hutta, you have several types of heat - dry heat, wet heat, flame heat and artificial heat

Wet heat usually goes hand-in-hand with humidity, often the sort of heat you get in the swamps, and would translate as something like Lahjula

Flame heat is the heat that comes from flames and is quite similar to dry heat in how it feel but is far more important due to it's relation to fire - Dagrilela is the word used to refer to this, from the word 'Tagr' with a softened 't' meaning 'white' (white flames = the hottest, and so white has similar connotations on Nal Hutta as it does on Tatooine) and 'lela', the word for 'shine', which is from the shimmering affect that happens with heat, (all with an added 'i' in between so the consonants don't get mushed)

As fire is linked so closely to freedom, I think flame heat might also have some connection to the word anu

Artificial heat is the heat that is usually found in places where Depur lives, where they can control the temperature as they please, and so is described as something like 'Fake heat'

All these words for heat are somewhat irrelevant (and definitely need some workshopping haha) to the one I actually want to focus on - dry heat

There might also be a fifth type of heat, a 'home heat' so to say, which is some sort of mix between Fire Heat and the idea of home...but this whole heat discussion is really getting out of hand for someone who knows next to nothing about conlanging

Back to Abbu-Dabbu

Dry heat is what Abbu-Dabbu would need to keep a house of salt alive within the swamps; it would need to be absolute and blanket quite a distance all the time lest her house melt around her

(And perhaps the building of her house might be one of her stories, of trying again and again, and it is only when the lost and unsure wander into her home and she lets them give advice (ultimately showing that she is stronger when she is part of a community) does it hold)

Abbu is this dry heat, and it's actual meaning derives from the idea of salt - this is the type of heat which can be used to get salt from the water, and heat is such an integral part of the salt itself, it's most of the salt's name

So the D in Dabbu sort of signifies that it's the result of the dry heat (if that makes any sense, it is getting very late and I know I am becoming nonsensical)

Vokkri

Vottra is a god that does not come from Amavikka tradition but got folded in from the Evocii tradition and that is why he is mostly only on Nal Hutta

The name Vottri comes from the original name of the Sky God Evotiirin, a name that slowly shifted over time to Vottri, and he is often represented as a bright star that shines bright enough to guide runaways through the thick swamp mists

The star in actuality no longer exists - it went supernova at one point and vanished - but there are a lot of myths about Vottri vanishing to hide from Depur, and how he will return when all the Amavikka are free to guide them to safety

I think this would be an example of a word where the 't' does not get softened into a 'd', probably because it's in the middle of the word and if it were dropped, it would rather ruin the structure of the word

Also because the name is holy so is cared for more diligently - some words, like greetings and goodbyes and certain figures in myth are told in the same way throughout the Amavikka as they are so precious to them that they make sure to pronounce the words exactly right rather than let linguistic flow take them

I'm not entirely sure what his name might meant as 'kest' is the word for star in the Tatooine dialect but I think this might be an example of where there is an entirely separate word for star on Nal Hutta - 'vottrak', which would translate to 'of Vottri'

On Lukka, Leia, Ekkreth and Ar-Amu

So I talked a bit about Ekkreth in his name section but I also wanted to touch on the other gods who end up everywhere (there are those that end up throughout pretty much all Amavikka tradition, those that end up through all of the tradition on a specific planet, and then those (often prophets) which are region specific)

Lukka was not created by fialleril but by @/blue-sunshine-mauve-morning in the same Desert Storm series I linked above (I love that fanfic so much), and she states in her fic that Lukka is a Tatooine only kinda god

I like Lukka too much so...I disregarded that and made him, along with Leia, Ekkreth and Ar-Amu, one of the gods who ends up pretty much everywhere in the galaxy

The themes that they represent throughout the galaxy are fairly consistent to; Ar-Amu is the mother, the one that all the Amavikka return to one day; Ekkreth is the trickster, which no chain can hold, whatever shape it is; Leia is the dragon, the anger of slaves that comes to crush slavers; and Lukka is the storm, that is safe for Amavikka to pass through but that will destroy any who follow.

Lukka

On Tatooine, Lukka is closely linked to the seven winds - some say the winds are Lukka's children, and some say that the winds are even older than Lukka and are what came together to form him - the winds are quite a common thing throughout Amavikka communities, although sometimes it is four winds rather than seven

On Nal Hutta and other more watery worlds though, Lukka is often referred to as The Storm and the Flood, although again, which came first is debated as the biggest threat on Nal Hutta is the terrible rainstorms that cause the swamp to flood into inhabited places

It's quite difficult to defend against these floods too as the water is everywhere, so it affects Depur as much as it affects the Amavikka in terms of destruction of property

Leia

Also from Blue_Sunshine's story, Leia is referred to as the Nal Hutta dragonsnake which is a creature canon to Nal Hutta, and I love this idea

She serves much the same purpose on Tatooine as she does on Nal Hutta but instead of the desert, she haunts the swamps

Dancing on Nal Hutta

So I mentioned this earlier but I really wanted to go into the implications of dance on Nal Hutta

Like I said before, Nal Hutta is a pleasure world for the Hutts and their cronies so there are a lot of places where slaves are used for entertainment like dance, which is why Ru's story is so important here

Of course, Ru always danced for himself in the way this story was told - some areas of Nal Hutta will have Bakkru being a dancer for Depur initially, or will have stories of Ru (who has already lived and died and lived again) returning to Depur to dance for him and to help free dancers as he returned to free his grandmother

But although dance is quite intrinsically linked to Depur on Nal Hutta, it is also very holy, in a way it's not really in most other places - due to Ru's story, it's linked a lot to fire and freedom, and the dancers who know the Bakkru are often fundamental pieces of the Freedom Trail

Ru's Symbol would be something that is carved onto the equivalent of Japor snippets on Nal Hutta, and is often given to dancers or those who have been picked to be pleasure slaves (who are often synonymous with dancers) as a charm of protection and good luck

Te bakkruker a anu or, 'You will dance in fire' is quite a common phrase to use when saying goodbye to a loved one who is either sold off or dying - it is wishing them freedom, as Bakkru was freed

However, it should be noted, that they are not wishing their loved one to die - although Bakkru died, Ru leads a lot of figures later to dance in fire to be freed who do not die, and so it is the more general idea of freedom

Final Words

This post grew absolutely massive so I feel like a final words section is appropriate haha (this is why I didn't try to put it in the AO3 author's notes section)

Thank you for getting this far! If you're interested in any of my thoughts about Amatakka and the Amavikka on planets outside of Tatooine (and on Tatooine too - there's a reason I love all this lore so much and it's because it worked so beautifully with Tatooine) please do hit me up, I'd love to talk about it more!

(And I'm neither an expert on the language nor a conglanger, so I would love some help with the words I was trying to make, and on how to distinguish dialects lol)

[thatdeadaquarius]

How about Benny in SAGAU? Like a continuation with Razor?? We do not talk about your growing found family 😤

Like, how would be his 'unluckiness'? Dya cancel it or you get pulled with his shenanigans? I feel like he might introduce you to his Dads no, we are still not going to talk about it 😤😤

A little scenario kept getting into my head when Benny applies Pyro and then Razor used his Electro and y'all got yer asses pounded on the ground 💀👌🏻and just taking care of each other's wounds 🥺🥺

You better be with him whenever he opens a chest so it wouldn't only spawn veggies, but decent weapon AND mora as well! You know, actual treasures, HOYO!!

BENNYYYYY ANOTHER ONE OF MY BOYSSS

This kid also arguably needs more parental supervision just bc of his sheer bad luck, poor kid

(i adore the headcanon that no matter the person's gender, he calls them dad lol)

Like,, hoyo cursed him and he's in a world with traps, monsters, fatui, MAGIC?? 💀 bro how is Benny still alive??!!

(LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY LOOK IN THIS GIF MY BOYS 🥺)

Okay but the fact that Benny calls so many ppl dad just proves his desire for parental/sibling affection 💔

Aight since u phrased this as a continuation of this post <3 RAZOR MY BOYYYY

That is what we shall do :) ! ! !

So ur running with the wolves still lol

Also ur symbol as the Creator reader is 🦄 or 🌈, bc ur gay and special, jk its bc elements i promise lol

Or even 😑 / 😶 for language reader shenanigans

♡

EDIT 4/11/24: HELLA forgot to say theres a sorta Part 3, its more focused on Razor living, rather than Benny tho fair warning!

Lupical for life bro

U r chillin with the pack now

Razor now has a sweet new digs, fits, and now a crazy amount of power

Bc ur just that great 💅

You have officially moved on to purchasing some leftover amenities/new furniture etc. for him and you :D

And while u could get some stuff in Springvale, like lanterns and soap and perfume and whatnot

Ur still not rlly getting furniture like a bedframe or some storage space, like a nightstand, from them

Which u dont need bc u still got an inventory

...but Razor definitely needs to store all his goodies somewhere that isnt up a tree or buried in a hole 😃

Yes, u did have to tell him to stop doing that.

So yall (u and Razor) are in Mondstadt a lot these days, and ur routine consists of grinding domains, hunting for food, hanging with cute Lupical puppies, playing giant tic-tac-toe w/ Andrius bc poor guy is pretty bored these days etc.

So you figured you run into ppl eventually, afterall you'd already re-met Lisa :)

(who at first was kind of taken aback to Razor having made a random adult friend in the woods, but after vibe checking her , and her vibe checking you, yall were cool, tho she did start reading these new lore books you didnt recognize called "Immortal They Return: A Series of Prophesies", she avoided ur questions abt it too..)

It was inevitable that after introducing you to Lisa, he'd gotten all excited at seeing two familiar figures hanging around Kathryne one day

THE BANDS GETTING BACK TOGETHER, ITS-

Fischl and Bennett !! :D the cutest adventurers in all of Mondstadt ! (besides Klee)

The two take one look at you and Razor and coming running

..

...

....well mostly Fischl,

Bennett got his boot laces tangled together somehow? And is kinda hopping his way over

Immediately the electro vision royalty launches into their quintessential speech (they/them fischl SUPREMACY)

And as u get introduced,

U watch the pyro boy hop and trip over while trying to untie the laces

And just as he's about to go down, and ur debating reaching out and supporting the poor guy bc geez this looks sm worse in person-

Bennett has finally gotten his shoes untied!

Even he looks shocked 💀

And he like, apruptly stops falling over too?

And walks over with no issue??

Theres even a few out of place cobblestones in his path which he sees and moves to avoid

You dont know who looks more shocked and kinda scared you, him, or Fischl/Oz or Razor

Fischl and Razor have stopped talking bc it was more distracting Bennett didnt fall 😭

..

...yall all just kinda,, stand in a circle of silence (well fly in oz's case)

Staring at Bennett.

(Even Katheryne looks impressed😭)

After a couple of shook seconds, Fischl is nearly yelling about some kind of curse being lifted?? , Razor is like, sniffing Bennett's immediate area for sus scents, Bennett is kicking rocks to see if any of them hit him anymore, and poor Oz is trying to calm them down

(none of the rocks hit Bennett btw, or anything valuable around him)

◇

So after that fiasco, u offer to take them around to the parts of Mondstadt they weren't allowed to go to w/o at least 1 adult :)

Theyre pumped and yall set off!

At first, Bennett hangs back, as Fischl and Razor throw themselves into monster battles yall encounter, as per what seems like a routine u assume bc of his bad luck

Eh, u figure while hes here, u might as well reveal u can make him stronger, u think he definitely needs the HP...

If there were any characters youd be worried about needing more power/HP in Mondstadt that u could level up besides Razor, itd be Bennett, hands down.

Between his adventuring, unnatural bad luck, and no parental supervision..

(even Klee seems better off than him, and shes like 7 💀)

Yeah, needless to say u were worried abt the guy

So he looks adorably fascinated <3, bc turns out they can see some of ur interface!

Mostly it looks like floating magical icons and that weird Teyvat language u saw in game, like that Abyss/ruins language u see all the time?

Bennett showed u his perspective in a sand drawing, hes actually pretty good at art wow

Razor couldnt rlly find the words to describe it before which is why u werent sure what they saw before now

And with that hes called into battle last by the others, mostly to apply pyro 🔥

and he fights at the edges to be further away from ppl u notice so he wont affect their luck..

aw Benny </3 :(

But as he draws his sword and ur getting ready trying to become a cheerleader for both Razor and Fischl but particularly Bennett,

He full on takes out 3 hilichurls at once 💀

...then with the dramatic down swing he does, he accidentally launches a rock right at the bigger hilichurl's foot..

...which trips him out of his axe swing...

...which makes it let go of the axe...

...which goes flying...

....breaks the last bit of the cryo abyss mage's shield bubble...

....

......

........and smacks it on the head too.

..fischl, oz, and razor halfway thru this insanity just like,, lower their weapons and stop to watch

Even the abyss mage is looking at Bennett surprised 😭😭

◇

Congratulations!

Bro, an achievement pops up-

"Lucky Day!!!"

Its little description says, "As Teyvat's God, you give the unluckiest person in Teyvat the luckiest day ever!"

💀

Bennett just sits down on the ground.

♤

(Same Benny because, this is where I lost it all, guys. All of that writing. Gone. Forever. I'm putting this here as both a gravestone for it, and a call out to tumblr. I'm not afraid of this website or its shitty admins, meet me in my dms for a real fight you fucks 🥊🥋🧍‍♂️you took what mattered to me, I'll take what matters to you, you god awful programmers. 🥲😐)

♤

And it just keeps happening like that for the rest of the day you guys are together.

Every chest Benny opens are way higher quality than they should be

Especially for him.

(also u have gotten so comfy from before when u were playing Genshin that u r physically struggling not to call him Benny, so when u do accidentally call him that, u try to apologize politely, but he just talks about finally having a nickname so giddy that u just stick with Benny, what a cutie)

Common chests, Razor/Fischl gets what u expect, you personally maybe get a little extra materials and money,

But Benny?

He opens a common chest and suddenly it's a secret Precious chest

The pyro boy honestly looks a little afraid

◇

You guys have a picnic later on for lunch together, partially bc Razor rlly wanted them to try ur food !! :D

Fischl and Benny were drooling over garlic salt, jesus- Teyvat's been deprived-

The blanket u used was a custom one u got made for Razor for his bday awhile back, all diff shades of purple and some silver wolf puppies and pawprints on it, 10/10 vv cute he loves it :)

(and also showed it off to his friends, Benny in particular looks smitten by it..)

◇

Fischl eventually gets herded by Oz back to Mondstadt bc of their parents wanting them back by dinner,

So u Razor and Benny r left to wander around :]

As u guys explore and get chests and talk,

U all begin to gather ingredients for dinner (not that u dont have an inventory but the boys dont wanna cut into ur supplies, the sweethearts)

... Benny slowly starts to find and accumulate foodstuffs

Those Phileano? mushrooms (the white toasty looking ones that r always on roofs or windmills?)

He finds at eye level on nearly any building u come across.

Crabs?

Benny currently has his shirt turned into a basket trying to contain them, and more are flocking to him lol

Snap dragons? Calla lilies?? Even violetgrass, those purple horsetails, lotus heads, and a few qingqin from Liyue somehow make it into his bag 💀

The real question to ask at this point is, when wasn't Bennett lucky today??

(wow never thought youd hear that one)

◇

So its a few weeks later, and Benny is like spending, every day with yall now lol

Ur getting dinner ready for u guys, and ur hopefully gonna make enough to leave leftovers for Lupical and Andrius,

So Razor has gone off to get some water to boil,

And Benny is climbing this huge tree to reach some eggs

And as he gets farther and farther up the tree away from you, he starts to slip more often 😬

Finally as he reaches the top, u realize after weeks without even a trip from him whenever hes around yall, why he wasnt unlucky-

...the closer he is to you, the luckier he is, and the farther Benny is-

He steps on a dead branch and it snaps :0 !!

Just as he falls, he screams and yells,

"DAD!!"

U push together some thick bushes and vines to catch him luckily

(lord knows u couldnt have caught him no matter how light he is, rip benny)

..Benny is okay, but he does go red in the face, and when u ask if he wants u to get one of his dads from the guild to check him over/make him feel better?

He says quickly "NO THANKS!"

Then Razor comes back like, "You call Lupical dad now?"

Benny: "What? No!"

You: "Do u see me as a, father figure, Bennett?"

Benny: "NO- more like I see u as a BOTHER figure bc ur always BOTHERING ME-"

Lol anyways jk

what a cutie tho,

(Ur Creator vibes made him feel vv at home in a way he hasnt felt before, so u got the honors early <3)

so ur a Dad™️ now (regardless of ur gender btw)

hope u like having a pack of puppies, a wolf spirit god, a wild wolf raised boy, and another wild but adventurer guild raised boy as ur family now 🤷‍♂️

Congratz U R THE FATHER LMAO

♧

You may or may not have also gotten onto Benny for charging straight into battle at other times, bc hes so used to bad luck happening anyway, apparently its canon he will just run in???

(to the point Grand Master VARKAS commented on it??!!)

U were pissed, bonked his head and everything-

He looked sufficiently chastised, but when u originally found out Fischl and Razor were nearby,

And u just hear snickering behind u as u bop him

(U bop them later too for that lol)

◇

Benny is also very good at treating injuries bc of this too apparantly,

So one time when you Razor and him were engaging with a couple hilichurls again on the way to Windrise,

Benny applied pyro, and bc u were standing father away than usual (there was an archer earlier u were dodging)

His bad luck crept in and when Razor went to charge up his wolf spirit electro ult-

...everyone went flying back.

...Including Benny and Razor 💀

You heard a really sick pop!

From Benny's shoulder :(

You quickly start pullin out the healing foods lol shove a fishstick in his mouth screaming IT HEALS like a crazed grandparent lmao

But Benny has already sighed and sat up, popping his arm back into place

🤢🤮

You^

While u do praise his healing??? skills,

U have found out thru him that apparently ur food also gives some pain killer effects

So u scold him and bop him on the head with some dango 🍡

For not waiting on u to help him lol

..

Which btw-

Any healing food u give him, he treats like the bandages many others give him, like Barbara, Katheryne, his guild dads, etc.

And holds onto them, rarely eating them

(Ur stuff preserves until needed bc its magical Creator powers surprise, surprise)

Benny feels like its a tangible piece of your care he can keep with him <3 sobs

"Well, since you're by my side, I guess I'm not that unlucky after all!"

proud of you son :')

♤

Ok so youve been getting Razor and u furnishings right

And youve been asking him what he wants to add to the caves digs ! :]

(U made a more fortified "front door" to the cave entrance, its also not that deep of a cave so there r only like 3 other "rooms" besides the main entrance area)

U improved both of u guys beds (tho razor will crash urs if he has a nightmare)

Along with some new outfits for him!

And so he has requested some stuff, but as time goes on,

Slowly, Razor goes from telling Benny about what new thing u added or telling his friend abt what he wants for the cave/himself,

To asking Benny what he wants bc he stays over so often 😭

(Youve gotten Benny factored into ur finances now lol, u gave him new clothes, new gear, amenities, etc. It also helps him bc he doesnt rlly have a main caretaker, so if he needs money he has to take commissions, which can be dangerous to him alone bc if u dont know, Benny's Adventuring Team only has him as the single member of it, plus thats not good if he is too sick or too injured to work, so a 2nd source of lowkey income is good for him <3 )

◇

U now have a coffee table as the dinner table (razor was used to sitting on the ground to eat so a high table felt weird to him)

And it has a few pillow chair thingys?

For you, Razor, Benny, and a guest aw 💘

Benny also originally wanted to help make smth for u guys as a house warming gift

but bc he would try to work on it away from ur influence, it would break everytime :(

Eventually u just coninvced the poor kid to help u pick out some nice rugs and stuff lol

He also has surprisingly good interior design tastes, huh, who knew?

(cough when benny stays over he usually stays in razors bed, but occasionally theyre both lonely had nightmares and ask to crash with u, i love these kids sm cough)

♧

Recently youve been visiting Benny in town even w/o Razor sometimes (rare as it is lol)

Mostly bc it seems like he needs the attention too <3

U gotta make sure hes eating real food okay

U dont want him to end up like u in ur world where u ate snacks for dinner when u were his age...

And Benny gets super hype about it every time, hes grabbing u by the arm, hauling u around to talk to ppl etc.

(Did i mention ur one of the few or not at all ppl who he can freely hold onto no matter the weather/situation bc his bad luck doesnt happen to you?? Oh no??? Well there u go :)

Most notably, to talk to the other Guild Dads™️

They deadass lowkey postured at you for an hour at you before giving in bc u seemed to be the only good luck charm the kid's ever gotten in his entire life 😭

They also r rlly happy someone is able to bc of his rlly bad luck willing to look out for him when they cant :)

♡

For his birthday, you guys all celebrated by doing a picnic again like when u first met them, and you made him a cake

Benny's face rlly said " :'D !! "

Later on, for presents, you got him a blanket matching Razor's !!

Shades of red, with some good luck symbols thruout to maybe make up for when ur not there, and puppies all over <3

And at the top, you yourself embroidered (attempted, so its kinda sloppy but still readable, its endearing you like to think)

"Benny's Adventure Team"

With your name, Razor, Fischl, and even Oz and Andrius lol, all embroidered (not by u bc u stabbed urself enough times making the title thx) as team members down below 👍

You also show him a copy of the book record Katheryne keeps of adventuring teams, telling him that you snuck into Mondstadt one day w/o him knowing and officially signed you guys together (the others agreed too ofc)

.

..

...

...Benny cried, straight up.

And just like held onto you for bascially the rest of the day ❤️

♡

MY HEART FOR MY BOYS FOREVER

♡

(you also may or may not have signed the corner with "love, dad" haha what)

♡

☆

I just want y'all to know.

I had like this whole thing ready to post.

Then tumblr decided it didn't like any of my writing, and deleted half of this post.

U probably saw the spot i marked where i lost it all :'/

I think it took an hour? Or at least 30 minutes to write.

Guess tumblr didn't like that I was adding so much in one go.

So now it's gone.

Doin smth ballsy bc in order to avoid that, ive just rewritten that lost half, and am just going to post it straight up rather than expecting it to save my draft 🥲

Those beautiful moments between Bennett and us, are gone forever. My memory isn't good enough to rewrite it all. ;-;

If you don't mind, I'll be crying somewhere over those lost Benny moments that I drafted on here and can no longer remember to add.

I guess that's tumblr's cruel way of telling me to go the extra mile and draft my bullshit on a literal Google Doc then come back here and deal with the formatting transition hell.

Thanks tumblr.

Appreciate the writing advice.

💔

(Fischl Voice) TIS I, WATERS OF THE SKY, IN THE NIGHT I SHINE UPON THEE, OH MOST HEAVENLY OF DIVINE BEINGS, FEAST YOUR EYES UPON MY OFFERINGS TO THINE BELOW!! COME ONE, COME ALL, FIND MY LABRYNTH'S RULES, AND REJOICE IF YE FIND THE TREASURE WITHIN!

(Oz translation: hey its aquarius here! I hope you gods enjoyed my writing! Feel free to check out my Masterpost/Writing Rules List if you guys ever wanna request something, including non-Sagau/Isekai stuff! :] )

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

(^^^^

Hey not sure if yall will see this, but while this does have influences of Sagau/Isekai genshin, its still pretty just platonic genshin stuff, so let me know if thats not what u wanna be tagged for - just dm me!!)

[elizabeth-dicewielder]

Having emotions about Naminé again

[hauntingblue]

Ace...?? they cloned my beautiful wife...

[foodlesoodlesdoodles]

my wrist hurts soooo fucking bad anyway I think I’ve worked on this long enough to justify not doing any more

[corndogshelter]

If I won the lottery I would kill off almost all of the males in my family

[joshriku]

at any and all times i'm thinking of this