#the journey it would kick off if i accepted this of myself rather than put it off for another few months would be just.....tremendous

[islandpcosjourney]

Excitement? Or exactly the opposite……

29th May 2023

I indicated in my previous blog that “People should know what a rollercoaster ride it is because until you ride it, you almost think it’s the most exciting news to hear that we’re starting IVF”. When people hear that we’re starting IVF they comment “Oh that’s exciting” and I have never reacted very well or how I’d expect to react to this, which got me to start thinking of why? Why couldn’t I share in their excitement? Why was my first thought mostly, “You have no idea how much I am not looking forward to this”. Everyone else can only think of the end result. I know there’s a whole host of bumps in the road to get there.

There’s one aspect certainly that is exciting – things are progressing forward. Of course that’s exciting. We have been working towards this ultimate goal for the past year as we could accept that naturally, our chances were diminishing, and we had to get the ball rolling if we were to have a chance of being parents before we were 40. Having to jump through many hoops such as agreeing to go on Ovulation stimulation drugs first, having to lose a lot more weight and having laparoscopic surgery was enough of a hurdle and that is a journey most people will struggle to endure as it is. I knew that my body was working correctly again, I knew I was ovulating naturally, I knew I didn’t have to take drugs to make me ovulate and I knew that in doing so, I was overstimulating my ovaries unnecessarily – not that my doctor would listen to me 🤷🏻‍♀️ I knew we still had a chance of conceiving naturally, I still believe it to this day, but as the years, not just the months, go on, there comes a point when you have to make that decision to relinquish your hope in the long-term path you’ve been on (naturally TTC) and put your hope in another branch of the tree (assisted conception). So, exciting is not the word that springs to mind. I saw it as giving in and I still see it as a failure on my part. I find myself thinking “I should’ve sorted myself sooner” and “I shouldn’t have agreed to the meds all these years ago (which messed up my hormones completely)”. I don’t usually regret things in life but there are odd occasions when these negative thoughts run through my mind, and I try not to let them stop for a rest. I tell them to keep running.

We were waiting on blood results for me and Kevin the last time I wrote. My AMH levels were tested (egg reserve levels) to decide on what hormone protocol I’d be put on. Basically, a woman is born with a set number of eggs for her lifetime. As a foetus, we have around 6 million eggs, but by birth we only have 1 million. By the time we get our period, we only have 300,000. By 30, it might be 100,000 and by 35 it might be 80,000, diminishing rapidly to as little as 10,000 by the time we’re 40. Menopause kicks in when around 1,000 immature eggs are left in the ovaries. Only 400-450 eggs out of the original pool of millions get to ovulate during a woman’s reproductive life. The rest die off. The better-quality eggs are usually released when a woman is younger, and this is why it is easier to get pregnant. As women get older, the quantity and quality of eggs reduces, which explains why it takes longer to get pregnant and the reason miscarriage rates increase due to chromosomally abnormal embryos. The rate of chromosomal abnormalities such as Down’s syndrome also increases.

As I spent many years without a period and without ovulating even when I did have one, I predicted my egg reserves would be high rather than low. My AMH level came out as 27.6 which is classed as HIGH. A normal reading for my age would be up to 10.07. In this case I have been identified as being “at risk” for Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome. This would happen by over-responding to the stimulation drug injections (stims) I’d be taking. Symptoms could be anything from mild abdominal swelling/bloating, discomfort & nausea to experiencing difficulty breathing due to an increase of fluid on your lungs and possible blood clots too. The more severe cases land you in hospital with serious health implications. Considering how I have previously responded to Clomid (the far milder ovarian stimulation drug taken orally) with bad bloating, pelvic pain, indigestion/heartburn, UTIs, thrush & discomfort for weeks, I am in no doubt that this was my body “over-reacting” to the drugs and therefore experiencing OHSS, so I am slightly more prepared for this happening on a larger scale. Kevin claims I over-react to many aspects of life which I firmly deny but now there’s proof of me actually “ovary-reacting” 😁

So when people say, “that’s exciting”, do those possible symptoms sound exciting? Far from it.

Kevin’s results were all clear for the standard infections and general screening they do but we’re still waiting for the chromosome test results which is checking for any genetic abnormalities which might be affecting his swimmers. Chromosomal abnormalities can prevent fertilisation (& therefore failed IVF) and early miscarriages so this needs to be cleared before we start. However, nothing in the follow-up letter mentioned anything about further tests for him, which we were hoping for as our consultant had seemed interested in his childhood testicular surgery. The blood tests had nothing to do with this. I have asked the secretaries to chase this up but nothing as of yet has happened. I will be chasing this up.

Then when I tried to get more of an answer about start dates etc from the secretaries, it turned out we shouldn’t have been told a June start month. Kevin will be expected to freeze his swimmers once he’s home again and then the BUSINESS MANAGER will decide on a start month for us, we’ll be sent more consent forms and further instructions on when I would be getting in touch with the nurses about my period dates. It’s all so complex and it was frustrating finding out that one thing we were told turned out to be incorrect. I geared myself up for starting in June, worried about my period having started EARLY at the end of April (first time ever!) and that it would be pulling my June period forward to starting before June and I wondered if that meant that we’d have to wait until July to start. Turns out all of that was overthinking it and actually, what I’ve learnt on this journey, is just to relax and allow the waiting. It's completely out-with our control and there’s no point in trying to think ahead because ANYTHING can happen 🤷🏻‍♀️ I am more at peace about the waiting now, purely as I’ve accepted it and I’m just enjoying the time between now and then to focus on me and ultimately us. There’s an odd relief about all of that - no pressure. The only downside is having to wait and pretty much put our lives on hold as we can’t plan anything concrete over the summer months. That in itself is frustrating because I have 6wks off from teaching where I would’ve been free to travel up and down the road and devote myself physically and mentally to the process. That’s unlikely to happen now so there’s no point in dwelling over it – we can’t control it!

In terms of the process ahead, trying to be realistic is the best way forward. We have a 25% chance: a 1 in 4 chance and that’s it. Many have said to me “This time next year you’ll have a little one!” and that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, at this point, it would be impossible. Aside from the fact that we haven’t started treatment yet, as I’ve mentioned I’m also at risk of OHSS. This means that I’m unlikely to be offered a fresh transfer (when after collection, a fertilised egg which turns into a successful blastocyst would be transferred back into my womb a few days later), which means that a normal 6wk treatment schedule might end up being 2-3 months for us. The hormone injections building up to egg collection could push my body over the edge so the standard form of protocol for someone in my position would be to allow my body to recover for a couple months after egg collection. This could differ from person to person so really, how short/long is a piece of string? Once we have a start month, all we can know for certain is the length of the process from starting treatment to egg collection. After that we have to take it as it comes.

The one thing that could bring me hope in this entire journey is also what I fear the most - pregnancy announcements! It’s the ones that hit me out of the blue that hit me the hardest - the couple you didn’t know were trying; the couple who weren’t actively “trying” (as in tracking) but weren’t “preventing” either (the most natural way most of us dream of!); the couple who had an “accident”; the couple who were trying hard not to get pregnant but still did 🤷🏻‍♀️

The point is, in the IUI/IVF/ICSI WhatsApp group I’m in, specifically for the north of Scotland, we have to obey certain rules. We are allowed to talk of our treatment, loss, our diminishing hope, trying to encourage each other on and on etc. We are not allowed to spread joy of a successful transfer i.e.. the positive pregnancy test. Once that happens, you’re taken out of the group & placed into a separate pregnancy group. So through all of the process, the disappointment & pain, you never get a glimpse into who’s finally won against the odds. It’s probably the only place where I’d relish the chance to hear a pregnancy announcement, to give me hope that the process can work for some, because otherwise It does make you feel like the whole thing is just one big failure. A 25% chance at our age, that means only 1 out of 4 leave with a baby after their treatment. 3 out of 4 get nothing - that’s a huge percentage! It means that not only does every part of the process carry that same rate of failure (so you’re constantly thinking it might not work at every turn) but that the end result, even if you get passed every part of the process, will in 75% of cases still be nothing.

This is not exciting. This is TERRIFYING!

But in all of this, God is with me 100%. He comforts me when I’m terrified, he encourages me to keep going, he tells me to keep believing in his ways even when I can’t see why he’s doing it. He tells me that there is a reason for the hurt, the pain, the loss, the frustration, the anger; the joy, the peace, the cuddles, the smiles 😊 In all of this, as long as I am doing this in His name, as long as I am doing this with the man he created me for by my side, I can find eternal happiness in that. I have been praised for being brave, for having been through chronic trauma and still putting myself & ourselves through it but it isn’t bravery – this is just life with its ups and downs. Many go through a tough time, and you don’t know it. I’m just telling you all of my woes, laying my heart on my sleeve for you all to have a peak at it. Be kind & gentle to each other. Who knows what the person sitting next to you is going through at the moment or the person who just shouted at you for no reason or the person who nearly hit you with their car or the person who is shy and doesn’t talk. Their trauma-brain might be working overtime and they just don’t know how to fix it. Compassion is key ❤️

[miss-kittyy]

Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

[lantsovsupremacist]

nikolai lantsov: august

@wafflesandschemingfaces requested a piece inspired by august, and i am more than happy to push the august agenda. THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG IM SO SORRY!!! i hope it’s okay that i worked this in as a part two of “mirrorball.”

happy AUGUST babes! this was originally going to end angsty but i was feeling generous so enjoy the happier ending :)))

he tasted like salt, which had been a rarity at home. with the prices spiking in the cities, the smaller markets in the countryside could not supply even the simplest spice. having reignited the placated desire, you were greedy for more of him.

over the last seven months, you took advantage of nearly every opportunity the volkvony offered. you strengthened your abilities at sea with the careful instruction of the two other tidemakers onboard. tamar’s twin brother, toyla, guided your interest in grisha literature and history.

certain adjustments proved more difficult than others. you were no stranger to early work or rising in a shared room. however, despite the bright flush from the use of your powers, your muscles ached under the strain of the new practice. you found your training to be an unfamiliar yet cherished consistency.

you struggled with feelings of inferiority at first. the other female tidemaker, yelena, was a stowaway from the little palace. disregarding her heavy contempt for the school there, her experience helped you immensely.

peter was also a comfort in his own way. another self-taught grisha himself, it only pained you to hear of his family’s acceptance and attempts to teach him. your family might not have thrown you to the fjerdans but they offered little to help you control the power.

time could not move backwards to prevent your wounds but it could move forward to heal them.

now, perched on the deck beside yelena, you were calmer and more confident than ever before. you watched sturmhond out of the corner of you eye, turning your head in the wind to guide a piece of hair back out of your face. his white shirt billowed in the wind, sleeves rolled up and hands in the air to help dictate one of his famous stories.

“you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky himself,” yelena snorted, elegantly drawing up a rather powerful wave to hasten your journey south, “trust me, he’ll take the hint and never let it go.”

but for you, perhaps he had. a new constellation, at least. three stars shined brighter than before for you, now visible to the naked eye. freedom, purpose, and opportunity. his gracious offer extended to beyond the imaginable.

“i could never have dreamed of this,” you replied earnestly, lightly bumping into her hip with your own.

“kerch does not have blondes, no?” she teased, exaggerating her already thick ravkan accent.

you blushed, nonetheless, “you’re going to get us off task, yelena.”

she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the sea with a grunt. you did not miss the small smile that barely touched her face after, however. you would have missed it if she had not adjusted your arm, lifting it higher to create a higher crest.

in truth, you did not mind. you enjoyed observing. from your station at one side of the hull, you had a suitable view of the surrounding activity on the deck. storytelling only happened to be one of the aforementioned pursuits by the crew.

—

the first time was an accident. you nearly ran into him one morning during your second week onboard. the sun had filtered through the cracks in your room, beckoning your rise. you chased the sunbeams up the staircase adjacent to the door and soaked in the warmth they graciously provided.

the sunrise was magnificent. too distracted by the beauty painted in front of you in the sky, your elbow caught the captain’s. your eyes immediately went wide, an apology poised on your tongue. growing up with seven siblings, you were accustomed to making yourself smaller to allot room for the others. what other habits would you lose during your time aboard the volkvony?

“that’s quite alright,” sturmhond replied, eyes twinkling at the pale pink flush of your cheeks, “i suppose the sunrise caught my attention, as well,” he turned his head back, “though, that might not be all that did.”

as the tempo of your heart approached a crescendo, you nodded with a nervous smile. your eldest sister’s experiences with boys were all you had to go off of. your parents were together, yes, but as you aged, you realized that the nature of their union simply secured stability for the both of them. love had been an after thought and a forgotten one at that.

“want to watch it with me?” his eyes were brighter than the sun, more vibrant than the various hues splattered across the sky.

sounding just as much of a child as did he, you responded, “i would love to.”

he waited for no counter, immediately taking your hand in his to nearly drag you up the stairs. his hand was surprisingly warm despite the slight chill in the morning air. your brain fought the feeling of his touch at first, recognizing the pressure of his fingers now intertwined with yours but refusing to reciprocate the gesture.

by the time the sun reached a pinnacle in the sky, shining it seemed for just the two of you, you had given him your hand and your heart.

you let him memorize your story, pausing when he could not remember the order of your siblings. you repeated it until he could. the mornings were filled with whispers and soft touches. you thought he was helping you write a new story—one where maybe, you could have your perspective at the forefront.

—

the pressure of his his knee shamelessly pressing into yours dominated your thoughts. you decided that it would be more disconcerting to slide away from him but each passing moment added fuel to the fire of his warmth. you did not know what to think about the way he made you feel.

“i’m not who you think i am,” the privateer spoke, deadly calm. his tone did not waver, nor did the contact his eyes maintained with the horizon.

you wanted to tease the boy beside you but one look at the frown overtaking his face gave you pause. you felt increasingly uncomfortable, which you never did with him, not even when he first introduced himself. it was all wrong.

“i’m not sure what you mean,” you whispered hesitantly, trailing your fingers in the dust of the deck before they grew too numb to control.

his jaw clenched. his eyes bore into the sea. you only heard the sound of his breath—strangled and uneven.

“sturmhond,” you tried, watching as the wind ruffled his tawny and unkept hair.

“no,” he strained, “nikolai.”

an unusual name but a beautiful name, you decided.

“i-i don’t understand,” you fought to get the words out—battling with breaths instead of bombs, syllables instead of swords.

you wanted to push it all aside for naive hope, content with your pocket of fool’s gold.

“do you remember when we sailed to the outskirts of ravka?” he questioned you, gaining control of the previous shake in his voice.

you hummed in reply, trying to put together the pieces of his puzzle before he realized you had not finished yet.

the blonde looked like he was in pain when he next spoke, “the prince,” he began with his eyes timidly locked on your own, “his name is nikolai.”

contrary to your lack of education, you were clever and thus, able to fill in the blanks for yourself.

“who else knows?” you might have hoped for something more but you were not innocent enough to believe the prince only shared his identity with the girl who had succumbed to his longing stares.

“the twins,” he began with a sigh too heavy for him to carry alone, “yelena. one or two others.”

yelena knew. for some reason, your stomach turned at that. you knew it was misplaced and unnecessary jealously but there it sat all the same, weighing you down like an unmovable stone. a similar pressure pulsed behind your eyes, forcing a collection of tears to your waterline.

he offered an apology with words, but it was his eyes that held the true sincerity, the way his fingers restlessly knotted in his lap, and that even though it was a fight, he had moved aside to give you space. you wanted to believe that everything would be okay despite the change, that it could be, at least.

your heart ached. you never wanted him further away from you. or closer. his body was too familiar now.

nikolai never belonged to you, not really. and even if ravka would inevitably melt his golden heart and carelessly mold it to their benefit, he belonged to the broken country. not to you. never to you—alone.

with that, of course, you could not belong to him, either. a farmer’s daughter who did not complete her primary studies. maybe you did have a claim to grisha power, but you knew enough about ravka to understand that you would be a soldier. you already felt like one, fighting an endless battle between your head and heart. diligence and desire.

“you let me—,” you swallowed thickly, “give myself to you. you made it so easy to be sure.” now, you were no longer as certain in your decisions.

he kicked his feet in the water, unable to carry your gaze lest he lose it much like your heart, “i hoped it could be different.”

you searched for anything to ground yourself in along the horizon, burning your eyes in the sinking sun, “you’ll have to go back, then.”

he nodded, his head bobbing more fitfully than the waves, “yes.”

your did not want to talk any longer because if you did, you were sure that you would cry. you decided that you had, in fact, been foolish. how could you live off of hope alone? your destiny belonged to the fields not the sea.

“okay.”

“okay?” nikolai repeated, voice dancing between disbelief and what might have been anger, unable to remember the next step, “that’s all that’s left?”

“i think so,” you replied airily, turning to brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, “because i understand. i might not want to. well, i certainly don’t want to but—,”

you were cut off and for the blonde boy beside you to do it, you knew he had good reason. he gave you a voice simply by listening, something few had done for you before. your words had been stolen by his lips in the end.

“i might not be able to give you nikolai,” his lips were down turned but now flushed with color, “but i can give you sturmhond. i can give you nik,” he brought your hand to his heart, “that is if you’ll have me?”

you did not belong to prince nikolai of ravka. he could not be a character in your story. but, you could write another chapter. you could change the plot for the better.

you kissed him with as much fervor as he had earlier. he twisted his fingers into your hair, winding a passage to the back of your neck. you curled into the warmth radiating from his side, fisting his shirt before slowly pulling away.

“i can’t believe you’re a prince.”

that earned you a laugh. the laugh you knew you could never live with losing. if you could not have him entirely, you would hold onto anything that could be yours. just yours. for now, the heat of the sun on your faces split wide with grins was enough.

grishaverse taglist: @just-a-human-witha-pen @ilovemarvelanne1 @story-scribbler @subjecta13-thefangirl

[pixie-mask]

Xena: WP Season 1

Thanks to Ted Raimi I’ve found myself journeying back to my child hood and properly watching Xena. When I was little I watched the show, but only caught random episodes. Episodes I remember catching kind of at least went up to Hope’s child, but I don’t remember Joxer in the slightest. Actually I didn’t remember anyone outside of Xena, Gabrielle and Hope.

It’s a 90s show so it’s got some campiness to it and the effects have to be forgiven, but it’s such a better show than I remember or would have known. I’m amazed at the topics they cover in different episodes, allowing for people to have a rather equal argument Xena unless its like you know something so obviously wrong. 

Xena goes through more trials and tribulations than I would have thought. She gets to be badass but not necessarily invincible. Surprised honestly by how often she takes blows from people who by all means are somewhat below her skill level, but also faces people who can hold their own against her fairly well. 

I seriously love how they make her just a person. Even with her confidence it never crosses (at least to me) into full arrogance, she can be wrong, she’s right, she teaches and she learns. She gets to embarrass people but also be embarrassed in turn. It’s so good.

Was surprised to be with Gabrielle on her growth as a character and I have to admit I love her upbeat personality, but at the beginning it was rather annoying, but I think the plot has developed her in a way where it’s more charming and endearing now.

Anyway real quick my favorite episodes of season one (spoilers):

Episode 2: Chariots of War

Love this overall episode in regards to its view on and want of peace. I especially love the split plot of Darius & Xena and Gabrielle &  Sphaerus. With the later being more of a quick influence. 

I thought at first I would find Darius too stubborn but it also works with the story. Namely with Sphaerus instead of Cycnus. Sphaerus was the absolute heart to me of this episode as I really thought he was going to fall into his father’s mindset but I love that he overall stuck with his beliefs overall.

Episode 4: Cradle of Hope

I think this episode is adorable. Gregor was more of a level-headed king than I thought he would be. There was more of a real feeling to him when it came to the idea of killing an unknown child as well as the grief of losing his own child and wife. I would say that the Pandora’s Box plot felt a bit unnecessary, but in terms of Pandora herself (she’s Pandora’s granddaughter, did she really need the same name) it ties into this idea of family this episode presents. With Gregor loosing his child, adopting the child that was a “threat” to his rule, Pandora bound to a family curse, to her being unable to find peace enough to have a family to the plot ending with Gregor, Pandora, and Gabriel (the baby) becoming  a family. 

I do have to say that I didn’t really care about the Pandora’s Box reveal, but I guess they had to sate the audience’s curiosity? 

This episode also had two of my favorite sequences in it. First is Xena as a dancer from the dancing itself all the way to her escape from the castle. The second moment is the fight with the baby being tossed around.

Episode 12: Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

I felt so bad for Helen omg. While it’s somewhat past the kick off point, seeing how she’s treated fully as a trophy is heartbreaking, but I love the development of her coming/having to accept that she’s no longer viewed as someone to be loved and putting her foot down to that fact. 

Episode 15: Warrior...Princess

Another more comedic episode that I didn’t expect to like fully but I did. A key part to that was definitely Diana. Sure she had a minor problem with the “little people” thing, but overall she’s genuinely sweet and good hearted. Overall she have as many complaints about “roughing it” as one would expect and it was was pleasant to see that she does actually care about what’s happening to the people in her kingdom.

Now my only thing is the obvious Diane &  Philemon romance. For some reason Diana is set up to marry Philemon’s brother Mineus and I cannot remember why. From the get go of meeting Philemon the attraction is undeniable and even from the way Diana talks about him, so why wasn’t he just set to marry her. I want to say that it might be because of Mineus being the eldest but that doesn’t really seem to matter by the end of things. Overall though that factor doesn’t deter the episode from me.

Episode 22: Callisto

This was it! This is the episode where Joxer was finally introduced! And omg. The most I can say off the back is just from a tast of this I will probably have mixed feelings to the way humor is processed with his character, but I’ve also had a positive feeling towards various clips so maybe it was just the writers fleshing out and getting use to him some.

Honestly he melted my heart in this. From his pleading with Callisto to let him prove himself as a warrior, talking to Gabrielle about his tradition and then how heartbroken he looks when Callisto speaks down about his inability to kill. Overall I was really happy about how he was introduced, cause I was worried initially.

The big surprise for me was Callisto. OMG I love her. She’s so gleeful in her villainy and mental torment of Xena. I think it did a better job of giving her backstory but not supporting her actions more than some stories do with their tragic start villains. The fact that she’s got skills on part with Xena doesn’t hurt. Oh and her hissing is fantastic, as well as the slight snake sounds that are associated with her. 

Episode 24: Is There A Doctor in the House

This episode was so so so good. I don’t know how to fully go into it unlike the ones above.

I love the whole story of war and the negativity of it and how ones motivations and goals can become twisted and cruel. Marmax was such a fantastic character based on the journey he had in this episode. He wasn’t played one dimensionally like you think he would be. We hear his intent but we also see how he struggles to keep to it when there are so many injured and dying around him, how he views Gabrielle and even his calm conversations with Ephiny.

Speaking of which I did not expect her to return. And she returned pregnant with Phantes’ child. Which just makes one think about the fact that a human woman and male centaur had sex and the plot just wants up to accept that. You know what fine...but the questions are there. Also they acted a little bit like she could push that baby out!? 

There was also the priest who I forgot about and the episode seem to as well. He popped up every now and then and honestly...he could have been worse. He talked and did his complaints, but also didn’t do much else so the plot didn’t make me help him.

Also the moment with Xena begging not to die at the end. Just amazing.

Quick Mentions:

Quick shout outs to episodes 17: The Royal Couple of Thieves and episode 18: The prodigal. I wanted to like those enough  but it just didn’t work out. 

Episode 17: I thought the humor with Autolycus (whose name I nearly keep misspelling) was great and it was a find introduction to the character. For me. Since I remember even less about Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. (Although I’m apparently mixing it up with Beastmaster some.) I didn’t really care so much for the reveal of the 10 commandments but it also made me appreciated how they handled the plot in episode 19: Altered States. 

Episode 18: Highlights one of the few problems I have with Gabrielle. While I understand it can be tiresome to hear her constantly go on about Xena. I will say though that I liked the Meleager plot line. I thought it was simply going to be oh look they hired a fake warrior that falsely pumped himself up and was just going to be a joke, but nope he was the real deal once he sobered up. I really liked that.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 309: Gotta Go My Own Way

Previously on BnHA: Muscular was all “well if it isn’t the protagonist on his solo journey of self-discovery, for some reason I’m unironically glad I get to fight you!” Deku was all “hey Muscular before I finish kicking your ass would you please take a moment to answer these two survey questions? Question one, do you regret being a total piece of shit? And question two, if you could do anything at all in the world other than being a total piece of shit, would you?” Muscular was all, “pfft, no and no.” Deku was all, “thanks buddy, your feedback helps make me a better hero, here’s a coupon for fifteen percent off your next ass-whooping.” Then he whooped his ass.

Today on BnHA: Deku is all “what up All Might can you believe you’ve been here this entire time?” All Might is all “I sure can since that’s literally my catch phrase, anyway how are your magic movie 1 gauntlets holding up?” Deku is all “they’re holding up fine, how are Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist doing?” Hawks, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist are all “we, your fellow co-conspirators, are also doing fine, thanks for asking!” Flashback!Deku is all “anyway so I secretly have All Might’s quirk and the most dangerous people in the world are after me, so sorry mom but that’s why I’m dropping out of school.” Inko is all “I CAN’T ACCEPT THAT” while totally accepting it. All Might is all “I GUESS WE’LL JUST HAVE TO GO ALONG WITH IT SINCE I DON’T FEEL LIKE TRYING TO STOP HIM.” Hawks, Jeanist, and Endeavor, as previously mentioned, are all “yeah that sounds like a good plan”, and Gran is all “see ya kid, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” So basically everyone in the entire world has suddenly teamed up with Deku to defeat AFO, except for the one person whose entire foreshadowed endgame is “teaming up with Deku to defeat AFO.” O Kacchan where art thou.

dear tumblr image limit: okay look. you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. but just as an experiment, I’m gonna try writing this recap with as few images as possible and we’ll see how it goes

(ETA: spoilers for how it went: it didn’t, lol.)

oh my god WHY ARE WE OPENING WITH MORE KETSUBUTSU ACADEMY KIDS.ffs we’d better at least finally get some Ms. Joke content out of this

(ETA: seriously who do I have to bribe.)

so these two KB kids who no one cares about are watching Deku leap away from the scene after dispatching Muscular. but more importantly wtf is this chapter title omg. “I can’t stay being a child” so that’s how it is huh. we’re gonna have feels and we’re going to like them. well then

oh my god he’s hauling Muscular away dhfksklfkh okay this is gonna have to be our first image because I can’t fucking help myself. look at this

just. Deku is so tiny and he’s carting away this massive unconscious lump of a man like it’s nothing why is this so funny to me. it’s like when people buy furniture, and they don’t want to pay extra for delivery and so they’re like, “I can definitely fit this king-sized mattress in the back of my compact sedan if I fold the fucking seat down, idk.” and they refuse to be talked out of it, and the next thing you know you’re watching them drive home with their open trunk door haphazardly tied down with bungee cords, and somehow it fucking works. because it turns out the compact sedan has super strength

anyway for SOME REASON now Horikoshi is all “have fun with that Deku, meanwhile we now return you to your regularly scheduled SHINDOU CONTENT” whyyyyyy

look at this. we’re really using up a whole fucking entire page on everyone arguing over who gets the honor of carrying Shindou

love how the civilians are all, “shit lol is this actually our fault?? quick, how do we play this off all casual like we were the reasonable parties here all along”

turns out all it took to finally get them to listen was making them watch while a kid got his insides ground into a pulp because of their stupidity!! what a heartwarming conclusion to this little standoff

anyways THANK GOD we’re cutting back to Deku now!! well actually we’re cutting back to Muscular who is being dropped off at the police precinct, good bye and good riddance lol

so Deku’s leaving him there and bounding away and okjdlSKFJLKJDSL OH MY GOD

no fucking way. no fucking way this little jaunt is All Might-sanctioned and approved. are you serious?? then who else is in on this?? what the hell is going on

so All Might is just WAITING FOR HIM IN AN ALLEY FFF WHO ARE YOU, JIM GORDON. or would Alfred be a better analogy here?? but like, Alfred if he ditched the suit for a moto jacket and shades

this new ensemble of All Might’s may or may not severely impact my ability to take this forthcoming conversation seriously; please stand by

also, quite the spectacular landing there, Deku. seriously lol what was that

“HOW ARE YOUR LIMBS” “THANKS TO YOU THEY’RE COMPLETELY FINE” I’M SORRY WHAT

LOL WHAT. “THANKS TO THE POWER OF THESE MAGIC GLOVES” OH I SEE THAT EXPLAINS IT

are these the same gauntlets from the first movie, then? well that’s all well and good, except that now there’s going to be more Deku Discourse than fucking ever lol. so if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m gonna once again go ahead and declare this week’s post a discourse-free zone, at least when it comes to the specific discourse of Deku’s merits as a MC, and the impact that him kicking ass and having working arms has on said merits. this has been something of a low mental energy week for me, so I’d rather reserve the energy I do have for more fun topics, such as All Might’s bitchin’ leather jacket

anyway so All Might’s saying that the gauntlets will help reinforce Deku’s arms, but they can’t withstand OFA at 100%. so basically it’s a support item designed to maintain the status quo lol. we’re basically in the same situation we were before, arm-capability-wise

homg All Might’s getting a call. time to see who else is in on Operation: Deku Alone?? or not so alone for that matter

omg

HI HAWKS, WHERE ARE YOUR WINGS

(ETA: seriously are they really gone for good?? why would he even be back on active duty then?? does he have his own American ex-boyfriend who can hook him up with exclusive support items?? dammit Horikoshi we want answers.)

looks like Jeanist and Endeavor are teaming up as well, just like they said they would. I would gladly follow this trio around all day long tbh

is this the same giant villain from the very first chapter??

looks like it to me, and it would tie in with that callback from the end of chapter 306. we all thought that was Muscular, but maybe it was this guy, and Deku left these three to deal with him while he ran off to take Muscular down

oh my god now Deku is running off again just like that

kids these days

ffffff I have not had nearly enough sleep to follow along with whatever tf Hawks is talking about here sob

like, is he trying to say that All Might is keeping Deku’s whereabouts unknown to anyone except for him?? in order to keep him safe?? but Hawks is pointing out that that’s a bad strategy and probably won’t do shit against AFO and it’s better if he lets Deku work with the rest of them?

(ETA: so @hanashimas​’ translation makes a lot more sense -- it’s not All Might who’s being overprotective, but Deku. in other words he’s trying not to drag All Might into his battles. and in addition Hawks is saying that their strategy is to take the offensive and go after AFO themselves rather than wait for him to come to them. which I’m not too sure about myself, but that’s another topic for another day.)

btw I can’t help thinking how much better this entire conversation would be if All Might was still wearing his sunglasses. put them back on my dude. it’s not too late. embrace your inner badass

DKLJSLDKFJL FLASHBACK ALERT, FUCKING FINALLY

“turns out, we were just trying to scare you straight. fuck lot of good that did though lol”

also what is this. one true love: the hospital bed. is that a scanlator joke or is Horikoshi actually that funny omg

SKLJDFLJLK

ITSA ME!! omg I love this hospital so much. though it’s sure not helping me in my quest to try and keep this post below ten images. I’m already up to eleven haha r.i.p. to me if tumblr doesn’t get its shit together

whaaaaaat, so he’s saying that Deku’s injuries were external (i.e. Tomura beating the shit out of him) rather than internal this time?? whaaaaat. excuse me but that’s some bullshit lmao. believe me, I was there

okay now he’s going on to explain that Deku’s “internal structure” seems to have been protected from the inside and out, and the corresponding panel seems to be implying that using Blackwhip as a brace paid off. huh

and also that his body is just stronger now?? so I guess he’s better able to withstand the quirk after an additional year of training?? I’M NOT SURE IF I BUY ANY OF THIS LOL but I’m willing to suspend my disbelief

OH MY GOD RED ALERT, INKO IS ASKING ALL MIGHT TO EXPLAIN WTAF DEKU’S QUIRK IS, IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGG

SO HE’S EXPLAINING IT TO HER OFF-SCREEN, AND INKO IS JUST LIKE

I GUESS THAT’S FAIR LOL. IT’S TRUE INKO I’M SO SORRY, YOUR SON IS A PROGATONIST R.I.P.

AHHKKJH DEKU ANGST IS IT FINALLY THAT TIME OMGGGGGG

what is this soft pop beat that’s suddenly being pumped in over the speakers. I’VE GOT TO MOVE ON~ AND BE WHO~ I~ AM~~~, I JUST DON’T BELONG HERE, I HOPE YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAND. also, follow-up question, when is Kacchan finally going to come back so he can jump in with the “WHAT ABOUT US~~~” bridge, huh. come the fuck on, Horikoshi

lmao All Might jesus christ

but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision...

anyway, yes!! finally that sweet, sweet “I don’t want to put anyone else in danger” angst!!

mmm that’s good angst Brent. Kacchan with center panel honors as usual, you love to see it. anyways though who do I have to yell at to get Deku a goddamn HUG around here seriously

so Inko is of course reacting with panic, and sensibly saying that she doesn’t approve of Deku’s “RUN AWAY AND FIGHT THE BAD GUYS ALL ON MY OWN, DON’T WORRY MOM I’LL JUST GET STRONGER, EASY AS PIE, IT’S A FOOLPROOF STRATEGY” plan

son of a bitch this manipulative green asshole is really gonna sit here and smile fondly at his mom and try to convince her that he’s Not A Little Kid Anymore. the hell you’re not mister

y'all are really just gonna sit there and let him talk you into this?? surely it can’t be that easy??

OH MY GOD

THE FEELS oh my god oh my god. BUT ALSO YOU’RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO COLLAPSE INTO HIS ARMS SOBBING AND LET HIM DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS LKJLJLFK. WHERE ARE ALL THE STRICT PARENTS AT?? AIZAWA, GANG ORCA, MITSUKI, SOMEONE PLEASE COME AND TELL DEKU TO SIT HIS ASS THE FUCK DOWN. NOW LISTEN HERE YOUNG MAN!!

“EVEN IF I TRY TO STOP YOU YOU’LL STILL LEAVE” WELL SURE, IF BY “TRY TO STOP HIM” YOU MEAN POLITELY TRY TO TALK HIM OUT OF IT FOR THREE SECONDS. HE’S SIXTEEN WTF WHEN DID HE BECOME THE BOSS OF YOU ALL. SOMEONE NEEDS TO COME AND TELL HIM HE’S GROUNDED

anyway sob so that’s the story of how Deku talked his parents into letting him drop out of school, and even convinced All Might to be his own personal Guy In The Chair. holy shit. this kid really went and rolled a nat 20 and the rest of them had no choice but to fold without argument

meanwhile here’s a panel of Best Jeanist trying to braid his phone into his hair just cuz

I’m dying to know which part of his language he considers to be crude here. you literally didn’t even use a contraction my guy

so now flashback!Deku is talking to Gran in the dark, and Gran is all “can you believe I’m not fucking dead yet lol that’s too funny. anyway, you sure I can’t interest you in killing Tomura after all?? no?? okay then here’s my cape.” truly a heartwarming scene

I’m kind of torn here tbh. on the one hand, my adhd ass wasn’t all that interested in sitting down and having an extended scene between these two when there’s so much else that I want to get to. but on the other hand, even I can admit that cramming this entire reunion into a single page seems just a BIT rushed. idk. like maybe someone can let Horikoshi know it’s a marathon and not a race. Deku didn’t even get any dialogue here, some of us want to know his thoughts!! but anyway

AND JUST LIKE THAT?!

how did all four of them let him con them into this. I literally just watched it happen and I still can’t figure out how. “I GUESS THIS SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT IS OUR LEADER NOW” ffflfjf. when Aizawa finds out he’s gonna go apeshit. AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU KATSUKI, WHO I HAVE BEEN ASSURED DOES IN FACT STILL EXIST. WHAT ABOUT USSSSS, WHAT ABOUT EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH. WHAT ABOUT TRUST???! YOU KNOW I NEVER WANTED TO HURT YOUUUUU

btw lol don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying this, and I’m honestly glad Deku’s not alone because that would suck for him! but that said, Hawks and Jeanist have lost any credibility they might have once had as far as being The Responsible Ones, and as for All Might and Endeavor, fucking hell lol. everyone just deposited all of their fucks in a bank somewhere for safekeeping and decided to never look back. godspeed you mad lads

[visit-ba-sing-se]

My contribution to the “what happened to Kuzon?” question, I guess. No canon, just me making myself cry. Kuzon was old. He knew that, and with every move he made his body reminded him. Still, he was crouching over to clean the dust from a statue. The monk that it resembled had his eyes closed and seemed to be mediating, blissfully unaware off the world around him. Kuzon sighed. What would he give to just trade spots with him. Once more, he was not sure if he was supposed to find it rather funny or tragic that this small shed, in a small village between somewhere and nowhere, was where his life had led him. His parents had been a merchants. But not the kind of merchant you would meet on the city market and who'd sell you cabbage or fish. The kind of merchant that travelled to Ba Sing Se or Omashu and returned with ancient relicts that they'd sell some fire nation nobleman. Or the other way around, trade spices that would be used to for the spicy pickled kelp severed to earth kingdom royals. And Kuzon had been accompanying them for as long as he could remember, and a lot of it, he had loved. Counting heavy coins while sitting on his father lap, helping his mother chose between different colored pieces of cloth to buy and sell again for more, crossing items from a list before he even could read the words. And of course, he had met two of his best friends on their journeys. Bumi and Aang. And he had believed that that would be how things would stay, and that one day, he would grow up to be a merchant as well. Of course, in his mind he then imagines being the greatest merchant there ever was, who would have dinner with the king of Omashu and make his parents proud. And of course, that dream shattered as childrens dreams do.  One conversation it had taken to tear his world apart. One conversation that he had listend to from the closet in their living room. Kuzon had used to hide when his parents welcomed wealthy clients, as they had never wanted him around then. Today, he still remembered that one trade as if it had been yesterday, not a century ago.

“You know, the prices for those artifacts are going to increase rapidly soon,” his mother had said, her you find my price to high but there is nothing you can do about that voice as he called it. “It is not like new once will enter the market. And I even heard that the government is striating to seize and destroy those that are currently one it.” Kuzon was angry at himself for not taking a peak at what she was selling earlier. Now they were standing with their backs to him and the view was blocked. “Even if you are right, which is not unlikely”, that buyer, a fire nation noble, had responded,  “don't feel any bad at all profiting from that?” His mother had snapped back directly “Oh, don't strike that chord with me. You want to invest. I have an investment to offer. Nothing more, nothing less. This little intermission won't fool any of us, and you know it.” “Fine.” The nobleman than had sighed, as Kuzon had moved his head slightly, desperatly trying to get a glimpse of what had being sold.  “A pity they had to kill all of them.” “They just made the best fruit pies. And they were so fun at parties.” None of this had made sense to Kuzon. Not until he finally had seen what the noble man had just bought. An air glider. Like the one Aang had had. And with that, it had hit him. Fruit pie. Air glider. Aang. Killed. Kuzon had not left that closet until finally, after he had missed lunch and dinner in there his father had discovered him and ordered to go to bed. Of course, looking back, it was childish. But In that moment, he truly had thought that as long as he stayed in the closet, the reality would stay out. The reality in which Aang, his best friend Aang, the funny, caring and genius Aang, Aang who he had spent some go the happiest days of his life with, was dead. And his parents were selling air gliders for profit.  But of course, the reality was there, and it did not care if Kuzo accepted it or not.  He was just 12, and one might say that a kid that age would not understand so much anyway. But Kuzon felt like in fact, he was the only one who did. The only one who saw all the places in which the air nomads were missing. The only one who saw how fearful the merchants from the earth kingdom that used to be good friends of their family now looked. The only one who did no pretend that their firelord was nothing else but a liar and murderer.  All of that had made him wanting to yell. Or cry, Or both. But his parents had taught him not to do so very soon very well and so he did neither.  But he wrote it down. He started with everything Aang had told him about his people, and what he could remember from the times he had visited. He continued with everything that happened then. When his father got drafted for the war. When they started having to say this weird pledge in school. When the man with the serious face brought the letter that made his mother cry. When they had to leave their big house in the capital and move back to his grandparents into a smaller house in a small village. And how despite all of this, the first thing his mom did in her new, small room was to hang up picture of Sozin so that he could stare down from there as well. He wrote down how after that picture changed from Sozin to Azulon, he applied to university to avoid getting drafted himself. The thought of that made him chuckle now. How smart he had found himself to be. Only too find out that at university they may did not teach him how to kill someone with a sword. But to kill his mind with some words. Of course, he had written that down as well. Just as he wrote down the rumors of the deserted admiral, and the drinking songs the other students were singing about bravery and burned towns. Finally, he got into one last fight with his anthropology professor that got him kicked out of university and close to being arrested. After more or less fleeing town, he cut his hair, hid in a few more closets and stole the passport of a poor lad named Lee. Like that, he escaped his military service scrubbing floors, serving tea and unloading ships on docks. He spent some nights in prisons as well, after fights he had picked at night and after assaulting governmental officials. For jokes about Azulon that he alone had found funny. As the result of trying to convince people that attacking Ba Sing Se would not be right. But no one wanted to be convinced, so once more, all he could do was write down what he observed. The cheering masses and tea sipping towns people just as the polluted rivers and starving fisherman. The children playing war in the streets, already so eager to kill and die for honor and glory just as the factory workers with dark circles under their eyes. He hated to admit it now, but during that time, he had been giving close to giving up more than once. He woke up in the morning not knowing which town he was in, nor how he would pay for dinner there in the evening. He had given up his home, his studies, his name. All because he had not been wanting give up on Aang. He could not betray his friend. When he was not able to fight all of them and stop the war, the least he could do was not to become one of them and instead bear witness for future generations to come. But is just got harder and harder each day, and more and more times he scolded himself for being just stubborn and stupid. His friend was dead. The Dragon of the West was at the walls of Ba Sing Se. And everyone just loved Azulon. What difference would it make if he joined them in? Or if he just stopped trying completely? What saved him was a small clay figure of a sky bison. A woman sold it on the market in a town which's name he did not even know. What he knew, however, was that these kinds of toys were only made by air nomads. And that that woman clearly had no idea how much the piece she was offering here was worth. He bought it without thinking twice. And that was how he finally became a merchant. Trading goods became his explanation for traveling up and down the country, searching for traces and hints, gathering artifacts that one way or another that found their way into the hands of people who had no idea what they were holding. Of course, he had to start small. Very small. But he had learned from the best there were. And he had a goal. “Maybe I am naive to think that one day, the war will be over and the firelord defeated. That one day we can speak freely again and that people will come and learn about the airnomads.”, he wrote down during this time, but when that day comes, they need to have something to learn from. After many years, when Ozai already replaced Azulon, Kuzon settled in a small village, where he lived in a small hut with an even smaller shed in which he kept the artifacts hidden. People quickly started avoiding him as the weird old man who in any other place would have already been arrested but here just served as village idiot. He continued writing, but news travelled slow and when they arrived were usually not reliable at all. Because of that, he nearly did not dare to write the first hopeful line after what seemed to be an eternity. Word has it that the Avatar has returned.

And then after another year, despite all odds and just like that, the war suddenly was over. At least so he heard. And noted that the war was over. And then finally, he put the pen down. Everything suddenly had changed. Yet still, it remained the same.

Kuzon was still alone in his hut and with his books, and still no one seemed to care. He had a testamony to make, but no one wanted to listen. They all just wanted to forget so fast.  And he was a disturbance, since they knew that he remembered.  There were rumors that the new firelord, Zuko, 16 and like that himself half a child, wanted to change things and own up the crimes that were committed. Some people pretended to support that. Others openly complained. Kuzon just would like to believe it was true. But he just had stopped trusting in firelords a long time ago.

Still, he tried his best to maintain the artifacts in good shape, but he was old. He had no family. No friends. And the thought that they would remain hidden here after his death, abdomend and forgotten, broke what was still left of his heart.  But here he was, and here they were. Alone. Suddenly, when Kuzon could already feel his eyes filling with tears, he was interrupted by a voice. A very familiar voice.

“Somebody here?”, it asked.  Kuzon was sure that it was only in his mind, brought back by all the memories. Still, while scolding himself for being a stupid old man, he slowly turned around, expecting to see nothing except for the wall of his shed. But his mind had not tricked him. There he stood, smiling that familiar smile that Kuzon never would have thought he would see again. Aang. And Kuzon cried.

[aks3raao1]

You know, there's a thing with characters that foil each other and serve as the "good" and "bad" respectively (Toga/Himiko, Tenko/Izuku, Nagito/Hajime, Ryoko/Hajime, Atsushi/Akutagawa) but that trope felt rather annoying to write, especially in the world I am trying to write about (ALTERNATIVE's world is basically MHA X BSD but like. 1000 times more fucked up and the Specialised are always prejudiced against. A terrible lot).

The title itself, ALTERNATIVE is to symbolise Romila's POV of "infinite choices and paths present for every being" and how she starts off the story with a decisive line of,

"Many people ask me if this could have been avoided. They beg for me to tell them that things could have been better. There are others too, who try to justify that this was the only way for things to have been. If you ask me, both are living in states of denial. One can't accept the stupidity of humanity for disregarding common sense for violence and prejudices. Another can't accept humanity's choice for having better circumstances if the one with the power chose to."

The thing is, the running theme is that the story is a bittersweet one, despite there not being many deaths of the main characters, but there was always a junction where you can see it could have been avoided, that there was an "alternative" for things to have gotten better, especially in the first book.

Another reason for the title is that it's basically an "ALTERNATIVE" to this world of ours, where super powers and stuff like those exist.

The subtitles of both the books (Myriad of Colours, Colour of Death) signifies Romila's power, "Aura Tracker" which lets her view people's aura as colours (Myriad of Colours is to signify the different kinds of people she meets, Colour of Death is about what affects her the most (death) and how she's constantly seeing that colour everywhere, especially now that it's war).

The thing about ALTERNATIVES is that Romila could have chosen to be a doormat (like Koldin tends to be at the beginning (his rp self is like THAT due to circumstances different to ALTERNATIVE's actual storyline. Also because Hack's a nicer person to be around than Romila is) in order to nOt hAvE cOnFliCt™) to not get into conflict and put up a super nice persona for people but she didn't. She decided to focus on hanging onto her reasons for doing what she does and using it to create a caustic personality to shield herself because she knows that she will regret being a doormat (Her Despair takes the form of Koldin Hopkins).

Now Koldin could have certainly put his hatred for society at the forefront and taken a caustic personality but instead chooses to be nice. Because he doesn't want to become as hurtful as the rest, that's how he wants to disentangle himself from society. However he, like Romila (who just took standing up for herself to extremes), takes this to the extremes causing him to gain the personality of a nice boy™.

However this also goes into why they made the choices they did (which is what Romila realises during the Mansion of Death arc), because for Romila, she didn't really have the psychology for actually becoming a doormat (because a) Her mom wouldn't have it b) She hated to be called weak c) She didn't have anyone to fall back to after the inevitable consequences of being a doormat d) She felt that if she were to live with monsters, then it's easier to blend in by being one (this comes useful to her when she infiltrates into the Government) e) She saw doormats getting suicidal which frightened her) or not becoming fully caustic (since her standing up for herself wasn't. Liked. By. Anyone. And seen as aggressive and she basically went, "Well if they see me as bad, I will show them BAD" which led to her breakdown causing the incidents at the Mansion Of Death (especially a twisted hatred against Koldin for extremely understandable reasons).

For Koldin, being meek and peaceful had let him get by in the streets and his skills to difuse fights had come in handy. Later when Dr. Hopkins took him in, he was well. A member of the Radicals who were known to be extremely merciless towards the Specialised (he had defected but Koldin had a REALLY good reason to be wary) so he figured if he stayed nice, he wouldn't be kicked out of the house and Dr. Hopkins being Dr. Hopkins just assumed that it was his normal and that behaviour carried into school. He figured that it was a horrifying thing to be aggressive and then saw how Romila got treated and decided that yep, he was right, that confirmed his world view alright and it was more reason to be super nice. While Romila saw Koldin as a person who everyone took advantage of (a thing she hated. To be exploited just like that) and went, yep that confirmed hers and it was more reason to be super angry.

However the thing is that, Romila was chided for being anything, which caused her to just give up to be peaceful (because what would she do? Anything she tried to do got her scolded) while Koldin (thankfully) found a support system. It really goes to show the difference a good friend can do.....

As it is, when I first began writing this, the most obvious choice presented itself to me. Koldin is the "hope" and Romila is the "despair" (on the protagonist, deutergonist side) but that seemed stupid and boring as it wouldn't make sense. Since I am trying to make a point of showing with how Romila's world view gradually changes from "there are wrong and right choices" to the fact that it doesn't have to be rigid and that *now* she wouldn't be hurt if she used what her vulnerable side wanted (a world free of prejudices and unnecessary cruelty) with the talents she had. That kindness mixed with her usual personality won't literally kill her.

And for Koldin, being a doormat means that he got taken advantage of a lot by different people and since he refused to actually stand up for himself ("Ah...aha......it seems that I can't..." "Can't what?" "Feel angry for myself......it's always anger that comes from the ones I love being hurt" "Then love yourself too, you will feel angry again" ~ Koldin's conversation with his inverted self in the Labyrinth) he got. Taken advantage of. By virtually everyone. However he decided that if being nice would keep him keep his self and his name self then it would be fine. He did not want to be the source of grief (his actual parents tossed him out because of his Specialisation). The Mansion Of Death actually causes him to snap for that reason, because Romila literally puts him in a torture dream "for the greater good" and then proceeds to kill his dear friend. One thing Koldin HATED. Killing friends. (Due to them being run over by a car, which led to his paralysed left arm)

Now on the other side, their respective friends:

Romila:

Luja: Cynical and annoyed by people's stupidity but not to caustic extents and she wants to be a scientist and isn't haunted by the possibility of dying.

Kratanos: Full of anger and hatred against the world but not entirely blinded by it and is focused to using that anger for reformation of the world (she becomes a therapist later, to help people)

They both have her caustic parts but they also let themselves embrace another side which makes them her "balance".

Koldin:

Anand: Believes that there's no requirement for violence unless it's absolutely necessary.

Karishma: Figures it's a better idea to just listen to rules but doesn't hesitate to break them if she sees that they are bs

They both have his peacefulness, but don't hesitate to do what they think they should do, which makes them his "balance".

The point is that, the case of choosing alternatives isn't possible with a tunnel vision. Even so, there are choices that literally can't be made due to the individual and circumstances. Sometimes the choice is to choose more than one choice. Well, that's one dramatic storyline......

It reminds me of DDLC side stories since everyone has a bit of the other person's solutions and more of a opposite personality (don't take this the wrong way, there are many stories like that and it's honestly a favourite to think abt but it's just that DDLC does it well especially since it's only a school environment). Tbh, I like dramatic storylines that rlly dig deep into a character's perspective (reasons why I'm in love with Hack and Axel in particular). My whole thing is that I'd rather read a story with interesting and in depth characters than one where only the plot is good so I say you made the great call of the century with Koldin and Romila's characters.

What you thought before getting into it is rlly how every great character arc starts. You focus on one, somewhat forget the other one until you review every single character for inspiration and then BAM! PARALLELS! It's really admirable how, even in this messed up world of specializations, you didn't purely focus on the plot bc it honestly sounds interesting enough to just stick around for Romila's life and journey. You could have ended it all with just that, but no, you smacked Koldin in there and said "be my interesting on par character that can kick Romila's gut" and IT WORKED SPECTACULARLY!!!

I really love ur writing and hoping to one day read (and maybe print out) every story you've ever written bc GODDAMNIT I NEED THE FEELING OF THOSE WORDS ON WORN PAPER WITH AN ARTISTIC COVER AND AN AMAZINGLY HEAVY WEIGHT

Aka, paperback. Bc that's how I like to roll and that's how good I think it is. 1000% worthy of a bestseller

[babygirlkiki1016]

Masterlist

Chapter 1: The company

Chapter 2: The Journey Begins

I pulled the rope, fastening my bag to one of the ponies. I didn't speak to anyone the next morning, besides no one was going to try to talk to me anyway. The company would only speak to their kin, and as I passed by heading to the front of the line I was given dirty looks. Except for Kili, he smiled and waved but his brother shoved his arm down, scolding him for even looking my way. I sighed and walked past some more dwarves, and each scowl gave me a funny feeling in my heart. I couldn't understand what it was, but it hurt deeply, like knives to my soul.

"Y/n." Gandalf greeted me with a smile, letting me pass by. "Once we're out of the shire, you will scout ahead and report anything back to us." He leaned down slightly, so I could only hear. "We're also making a bet on if Bilbo is coming, wish to participate?" I looked towards the rest, they all seemed to be having fun. The talk of the Hobbit showing up again brought them entertainment.

"No, we're heading into a dark path Gandalf. If I were to partake in their silly affairs I'd only ruin the fun." He groaned, standing up straight to get on his horse.

"You know, it won't hurt to have a little bit of fun. You'll be riding with Thorin, for now, being in the front will give you the advantage to take in your surroundings." He was right, in the front of the line I would be able to listen to the woods, there was something dark out there. Something will be following us, I don't know what, but whatever it is it's not good.

"Are you sure he's alright with the idea of me riding with him?" He grimaced at the question, I should have figured Thorin wasn't going to accept it.

"He's not happy, just don't antagonize him and you'll be alright." My very presence puts him on edge, speaking of the devil he came up behind me with those blue orbs piercing into mine. He didn't say a word to me, he just climbed onto his pony looking ahead. Hesitantly I go to climb on but his hand stretched out, he was waiting for me to take it.

"Hurry up we don't have all day." He growled, quickly I pulled myself on and sat in front of him. I gasped at his warmth, it felt nice with his chest against my back. "Lead." His gruff voice made me shiver, I kicked the pony lightly and she went off. We made our way down the path, passing multiple Hobbits that were nearby. One was a child, a small girl about half the size of me. She waved with a wide grin, I couldn't help but wave back eagerly. It's been a while since I've seen children, my kind barely has any men around. The cold blast killed most of our soldiers who were men, so not a lot of children are born these days. Let's just hope those reports will save my people, and we can have a fresh start with alliances. "So, does all of your kind have wings like yours?" His question surprised me, he wanted to know more about my kin? Why? Was he planning for war?

"Why do you want to know? Are you planning to kill us all already?"

"I am just curious about your race, I haven't heard much about it. From the tales my grandfather and father told me, most don't have wings unless they're born with it."

"Hm." I knew all about their race, and the fact that he wanted to know more about mine intrigued me. "Some have wings, it depends on if you have a certain gene in your blood."

"How big is your homeland?"

"It was huge, bigger than the city of Erebor. Yet where we live now, is small considering your kind took our home." I snarled, he took a deep breath, probably to calm himself. His hands then gripped my cloak, and he pulled me against his chest roughly.

"I suggest you don't annoy me, for I won't be responsible for what happens to you on this trip." He was threatening me, I bet if we were attacked he'd leave me for dead.

"And I suggest you let go of me, I won't kill you but I think you'll be fine with a few fingers missing." I turned my head to face him, he was extremely close, our noses almost touching. Reluctantly he leaned back slightly, releasing me from his hold.

"I can't wait to reclaim my homeland, then I'll have you out of my sight. I won't have to deal with your kind anymore, your murderers. I don't know what Gandalf was thinking."

"He was thinking, that your weak, too weak to take down a dragon. If you want me to help you, I recommend you be friendly for I can easily leave you behind. I'll find a way into that mountain myself, so watch your words Thorin Oakenshield." He went to protest but was interrupted by shouting, it was Bilbo running from the entrance of the shire. We were in the middle of the woods now, I pull on the reigns to stop from going any further. Bilbo ran towards us, waving the contract in his hand, panting heavily.

"I signed it." He exclaims, panting heavily as he handed the contract to Balin. Balin pulls out a monocle to check the paper. It looked like Bilbo had brought everything from home with him.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." Balin smiles, and surprisingly it didn't disappear when his eyes met mine. The warm smile made me happy, didn't he hear the rumors people had spread about my kind? Why was he so nice to me?

"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered, nudging me to keep going which I obey.

"No, no, no, no. That-That won’t be necessary. Thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once." Bilbo refuses, but they didn't listen to his cries. Suddenly two of the dwarves grab hold of his arms, pick him up, and placed him directly on Minty. As we all rode along in the woods, I could hear the dwarves talking to each other.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" Oin demanded, the sound of coins clinking together reached my ears.

"The rest of the dwarves took gambles on if Mr. Baggins would show," Thorin explained, however, I already knew this due to Gandalf.

"What about you Thorin? Did you participate?" I said looking at him, he shook his head laughing slightly.

"I don't participate in silly affairs, though if I did I would've guessed he wouldn't have come." I can see how that's true, sometimes people just don't want to leave home. They'd rather stay in their safe comfy beds, and I was one of them. "You seem deep in thought." My cheeks turned red as I realized I had been staring at him the entire time.

"I'm alright." Clearing my throat awkwardly only to hear Bilbo shouting about something else.

"Uh-wait, wait. Stop! Stop! We have to turn around." Thorin groaned and I slowed the pony down, waiting to hear Bilbo's excuse.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf wondered, he was riding a larger horse than the rest of us.

"I forgot my handkerchief." We can't just stop and go back because of some handkerchief, it would only be a waste of time.

"Here! Use this." Bofur rips off a bit of cloth from his robe and throws it to Bilbo, who looks at it with disgust.

"Move on!" Thorin announces, and I continue down the path of our journey. Later that night, we stopped by the entrance of a small cave. I slept close to the edge of the entrance, my wings keeping me warm and hidden from the others. That's when I heard shuffling behind me, it was Thorin setting down his sleeping bag.

"Did you miss me already?" I joked, making him roll his eyes annoyed.

"One of us has to watch you, you might try and kill us in our sleep." I just turned back around, curling back up into a small ball. It was colder outside than I expected, I should've brought warmer clothes. I shivered as a gust of wind blew our way, it took a while for me to fall asleep. The cold wasn't helping me at all, but I finally managed to sleep into unconsciousness. That is until I woke up to howls, not just any normal howls, wargs. I sat up, searching the area, getting ready to strike if I had to. The orcs were far off into the distance but I saw them, I could feel the evilness radiating off of them.

"You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin yelled making me turn to him, he stood up abruptly, his fur coat missing. That's when I realized it was on me, he had laid his coat on me to keep me warm but why? What was his reason for being kind to me?

"We didn’t mean anything by it," Kili stated, looking down at the ground in shame.

"No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world." Thorin angrily walks off, I had an urge to go try and cheer him up. He did give me his coat, after all, I could at least do something nice. Slowly I made my way over to him, he hadn't sensed my presence yet.

"Thorin?" I called letting out a small yawn. He didn't face me, instead, he kept his gaze pit on the horizon.

"Go away." He ordered but I refused to listen, my feet made their way next to him. He scowled at me, but said nothing else, he only just crossed his arms. His hand caught my attention, it was bigger than most, his fingers were twice the size of mine. Without thinking I tugged on it, making his eyes avert to me. I placed my hand against him, comparing the sizes. "Y/n?" He mutters, wondering what I was up to.

"Your hands, they're so much bigger than mine. For such tiny men, you certainly have large fingers, it's fascinating." I looked up at him, his eyes widened at my comment. "You know as a child I used to wonder what the tiny men of our world looked like, I tried to learn everything about dwarves that I could. My kingdom's library had multiple books about your culture, I have to admit it was interesting to learn about your courting styles."

"You know of our courting ritual?"

"Of course, I know everything about each race. I was a very strange child at that age, yet one question remained unanswered. Why do dwarves keep their hair long?" He smiled at my curiosity, those deep blue ocean eyes stared at me in adoration. Though those furious eyes returned, and he angrily pulled his hand away.

"You shouldn't be asking questions about courting, it's not as if anyone would marry your kind anyway." He lifted his hand, glaring at it in disgust. "Now I have to wash away the filth you have spread upon me." My heart broke a little as if a piece had shred from the flesh. As he stormed off I wondered what ran through his mind, he was the sweet innocent man a few seconds ago. What made him irritated with me? Thorin went back to the place we had been sleeping, and he grabbed his cloak moving to the other side of the camp. Each dwarf turned their head my way, and only three of them grinned at me.

"I'll keep watch," I spoke as I returned to my make-shift bed. It would be better if I stayed away from the others, at least that's not what Kili thought. Cause a few seconds later he plopped down right next to me. "What are you doing? Won't the others scold you for sitting next to me?"

"Who cares, they can argue all they want. No one should be alone, I'll keep watch with you." My heart swelled at his kindness, why was he being so nice to me? Did he believe me than those foolish rumors the others had heard? He frowned slightly, he was serious now. "Are you ok Y/n?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be? I've dealt with stubborn dwarves before believe me. Their rudeness hardly bothers me anymore." I lied, staring down at my hands. How could this world think such cruel thoughts about my kind, why did Thror have to lie about us? Kili placed his hand on mine to try and calm me, and lightly he caressed it with his thumb.

"You know not all of us hate you, me, Balin, and my brother Fili we know the truth. I told my brother what you told me, and he sort of believes it. You don't seem like the angry ravaging digonisks we've heard about, and besides the reports in those mountains is evidence that your kin is innocent. Speaking of Balin however, he wanted me to tell you that when you get a chance he wishes to speak with you." I glanced over the white-haired dwarf who gave me a small smile. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about? Maybe his politeness was just a ruse to kill me in secret, what if Kili is doing the same? Ever since I've joined the company I haven't thought of the consequences, I treat them as if they're normal men. I have to be more careful if I am to get to the mountain. "You know you should probably get some sleep, we'll need those wings again."

"No, they're orcs not far, they're watching us. I need to be awake just in case they decide to come our way. I appreciate the gesture, sleep Kili, you and your kin are the most important people here after all." He opened his mouth to protest, but kept quiet and snuggled up in his bed. I kept my eyes on the frontier, watching as the orcs scattered away but I knew they would be back, they always come back.

~♪♠♪~

The harsh wind blasted against me, the building fell apart from the ice that covered the bricks. Shouts were heard from all over, but the only I could focus on was my mother's. My legs hurt bad, but her condition was worse, there was an ice shard in her side. It no longer looked like liquid water, instead, it was nothing but a melting ice block of blood.

"Mommy!" I reached out for her, my hand reaching out to try and save her from the man that stood close. His sword was raised ready to strike, and that's when I saw his face. Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our company.

"Die filth!" His sword came crashing down hard, and as it decapitated her head I shot up. My chest beating fast, it was just a dream, just a dream. Most dwarves were asleep, the only one awake was Kili who was taking over my shift. I had fallen asleep, how could have been so stupid? He could've hurt me, or worse slaughtered me like the rest of my family. My body trembled as he came close to me, worry showing in his brown eyes.

"Kili stay back!" I warned, he raised his hands as a symbol of peace.

"I won't hurt you, I promise...are you alright?" I was shaking violently, and it wasn't because of the wind that blew our way. "Are you cold? Here." He sheds his cloak going to hand it to me but I shake my head.

"N-Nightmare." That was all I managed to get out, he dropped the piece of clothing on the floor and slowly made his way over showing that he had no weapons. When he was close enough he wrapped his arms around me, making me gasp. I didn't hug back, for I was waiting for any sign that this wasn't a nice gesture. It didn't come, he just pulled me closer, and I have to admit the hug was very helpful. I listened to his breathing, and eventually, it helped my heart stop beating at a rapid speed. He smelled of sweat and pine wood, surprisingly it was a soothing smell.

"Want to talk about it?" He whispered, pulling back to look at me as his thumb rubbed softly against my skin as a way to calm me down.

"No, it was just a silly dream. It's not as if you would care anyhow."

"I do care, and just in case another agonizing fantasy comes across your mind I'll sit right here. So if you do have another nightmare I'll be here to help." He gently pulled me into his side, which I hesitantly accepted, and soon I went senseless, succumbing to the darkness.

For the next few days when I wasn't flying above them to keep watch, I rode with Thorin. The more we rode together, the more he didn't mind it. Soon it was like second nature to him, and every morning when it was time to leave he would hold out his hand to help me on the pony. Although he was extra grumpy today as we continued our journey in the woods while riding in the torrential rain.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf? Can’t you do something about this deluge?" Dori begged, but to no avail, nothing could be done. Well at least for them, considering I was a dragon slayer and immune to fire. One of my abilities was magic, and that magic included creating ablaze. I felt Thorin shiver from behind me, and I felt bad. I never did thank him for letting me use his cloak the other night.

"Thorin take the reigns," I ordered, turning around on the horse, immediately he grabbed the reigns as I let go.

"What on earth do you think your doing woman?" He growled, his eyes piercing into my own. Resting a hand upon his chest, he blushed slightly at the contact I used just a little bit of my charms to summon some heat. "What curse are you putting on me? Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"It's not a curse, it's a spell to keep you warm you ass. Now hold still or I just might burn you." He growled and lifted his head to try and see in front of him, I wasn't that tall. After a few seconds of straining his neck to see, he eventually rested his chin on the top of my head lightly. "I'm not your headrest you know."

"Well, I can't see around your thick skull."

"It's not that big! I'm shorter than you!"

"Shorter, but your head is certainly wider. Are you sure you have a brain in there?" I burned him slightly, making him wince.

"Keep talking 'Oh great one' and see where it gets you. Your lucky I'm even giving you warmth, I could just keep it all to myself." I returned the heat to normal and leaned my head on his chest. His breathing went rigid for a second, then slowed down but his heartbeat sped up.

"...What other powers do you have?" He asked, moving closer to my hand to get warmer. I slipped it down to his side, making him jump. "Watch it."

"Other than fire, I have a vast amount of strength. I could rip a tree out of the ground, second I can fly at fast speeds while spreading my wings. Soldiers with wings are called our airborne army, they attack from above and can kill dragons a lot easier. Last but not least, only the royal line can take on the form of a dragon. At least we used to, The Power of The Black Dragon was lost long ago. It is passed down from generation to generation, but the Queen with the ability died along with it." My mother, just a year before my coronation to take on my birthright was gravely injured from the frozen blast caused by men. She passed away, I never got to tell her that I loved her. The last thing I ever said to her was 'I'm scared'. Though I will never forget her last words, 'don't take revenge.'

"How many more are there?"

"Once there were millions of us, and now because of people like you, there is only 1,000. I hope your happy, cause soon we'll be extinct."

"No, cause soon you'll get those reports. And you'll show the world the mistake we caused." He whispered, his comment made my heart swoon. Had he said what I thought he had confessed?

"Thank you." It was all I could say, I felt him smile as he wrapped his arms tightly around me. He was trying to keep me warm like I was doing to him, perhaps he's not like the monster from my dreams.

@fili-is-my-lover @kirenia15 @lunariasilver @depressedchilipepper

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Never enough time

Taken from the information scroll “Humans: Sages of our Time” by Rivrind Pios.

The often excepted portrayal of humanity is one of greedy bipeds with no sense of reasoning beyond their own personal wants and needs. I must confess that this notion is rather fitting for most humans as many I have encountered in my travels had been in the process of pursuing their own dreams and ambitions at the time and appeared almost blindsided to the world around them. 

Their seemingly endless need for excess seems to be their key driving factor. More food, more wealth, more power, more clothing, more hair, more muscles, more and more and more on and on for an eternity. Nothing ever appears to satisfying the teeming throngs of manlings until they are buried deep beneath the soil where they want no more. Countless worlds have been left in ruin by this rabid hunger for more to the point many species consider humans to be nothing more than a blight upon the very stars themselves. I myself began harboring such ideas of humans for some time as nothing I had seen in my journeys had shown me otherwise. It wasn’t until I came across one of the strangest humans I’ve ever met in the city of Shanghai on the human home world that finally gave me greater clarity to the inner workings of humans. 

I had been exploring the south eastern hemisphere of the world and found myself wandering the streets of Shanghai. It’s history of a rich trade city was clearly visible as it had been upgraded into a massive star port taking hundreds of craft in daily. While waiting for a layover to the north western hemisphere I found myself wandering the streets of the bustling city. 

The city was a maze of catwalks, boulevards, parks, back alleys, side streets, and market places. Several times I found myself accosted by other humans while wandering the avenues, though many soon lost heart and fled after I revealed my many rows of teeth. It seemed humans were not fond of many mouths and many teeth for some reason. 

While exploring I smelled something so delicious it had me enthralled from the moment I inhaled that delectable scent. Keenly I tracked down the aroma through several alleys and back streets, down three sub levels, and passed four cordoned checks before arriving at a neat little hole in the wall food dispensary called “Athens of the East” 

The inside was dimly lit with assorted rows of tables and chairs lining the walls. In the center of the room was a massive sandbox like ring where two humans were currently punching each other violently while the humans at the tables cheering and whooped. 

At first I found myself deeply confused as to why such a barbaric establishment would have such divine food smells coming from it until I noticed the tables with plates of food still on them. to say the morsels looked delicious was an understatement so I put aside my confusion about the entertainment and waved a waitress to sit me. 

To my displeasure it appeared that every table was occupied and I would have to wait as the crowds cheered again as one of the fighters took a punch to the face and went sprawling to the sand. I was just about to leave when one of the patrons at a table waved to me. They kicked a chair opposite them from beneath the table and waved for me to come join them. 

I had heard tales of humans luring unsuspecting fools to their graves and was first hesitant to accept the offer, but the human sitting at the table merely explained it was bad taste to eat alone and wanted to have some company. I was still cautious but the smell of the foods made it impossible to pass on such a chance and so I joined the human at their table. 

They were an elderly human going on some 80-90 years if I was to guess; nothing but a younger species considering I lived to be roughly 3000 years old before my species passed on. Their clothes were of a fine material but i could see that they had been worn regularly and their hairs had turns a shade of greyish white. The elderly human was of the talking variety and seemed rather happy to be having company and chatted up a storm. I was not in as much of a talkative mode yet felt it rude after they had shared their table so I joined the conversations when I had something to say. 

It turned out that we were more alike then I had first imagined as they too were a traveler seeking new destinations, They had been to most of the human cities on their homeworld and now were waiting to catch a flight to the Hive homeworld thirty three systems over. Their flight had been delayed for several days now due to gravitational storms and they had come to here to let off some steam. I was going to inquire as to what exactly that meant when one of the fighters in the ring had been knocked down and was unable to get up. The cheers of the crowd were silenced as another human stepped forwarded and asked if there was anyone brave enough to challenge the surviving champion. 

To my complete surprise the elderly human I had been sharing the table with rose up and unbuttoned his shirt. He left it on his chair and stepped forward into the ring. The announcer backed away and rang the bell and the two fought each other. The elderly man was not what one would call in the prime of his life, what with his belly sagging forward like a sack of lumpa berries, but his muscles were toned well enough to keep the fight far from being one sided. The bout lasted about twenty minutes before the elderly man, now covered in bruises, threw a hard right and knocked his opponent to the ground and won. He returned to his chair shortly after the crowds cheers had died down and resume his drinking and food consumption. 

I asked him why would committing combat let off steam to which he replied that he was angry that his flight had been delayed so long and that fighting a stranger in some back alley dive had always been a wish he’d had since he was a young scrapper. Perplexed I inquired again how a delayed flight transitions to brutal combat. The Hive world wasn’t going anywhere and would still be there when the flights resumed. 

The elderly man sat in silence for some time, his stare focused on the swirling ice cubes of his drink as he rocked it back and forth. He told me that he was dying and that his time among the living was dwindling day by day. He had a disease called “cancer” that was slowly devouring his body from the inside out like rot and soon he would be too ill even to lift himself out of a bed let alone fight someone in a back alley fighting ring. 

It was unusual to feel sad for someone you have just met and yet I felt pain knowing my new companion would soon pass off their physical remains. I apologized to him and gave him my well wishes too which they oddly laughed and waved me away like I had just knocked over their glass and thought it was the end of the world. 

He thanked me but said he did not want my pity nor my sorrow. I asked him why then if he was dying that he would take such a journey off world with such little time remaining. He took a swish of his drink and waved for another as he told me it had always been one of his wishes to see another world. 

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment and his eyes narrowed out. He spoke of many things he had wanted to do when he was younger. Buy a boat, go fishing every day, ask his schooling crush out for a dance, traverse the globe with friends. He told me of how something would always come up at the last second that would hold him back and his chance would pass him by. How many missed opportunities had passed him by that only now in his old age did he see. 

He chuckled to himself and said how he wished he could live forever, or at the very least a few more years, so he could finally check everything off his list as he took another sim of his drink. 

Now that he was old it seemed like all he had was time until he found out his clock was ticking faster to his demise then he had planned. Now he wished to achieve what dreams he could before his clock finally stopped. 

To this day I’m not sure if it was their words or the combination of drink and food I had been having but in an instant my entire perspective of humanity had shifted. 

We spoke for some time more together until my notifier alerted me that my flight was now on schedule. I stood up and shook the hand of the strange human as they turned their back to me and entered the ring once more. I pondered what I had learned from the odd man as I took the streets back upwards to the space port.

Humans apparent greed and carelessness was not in a self centered manner for some, but rather born from a fear of knowing constantly that their existence would eventually come to an end.

For a being such as myself with an extended lifetime I do not feel this need as much, but with short lived species like humans it must be a constant cloud circling them ever reminding them that what they miss today may be missed forever.

It was only after I reached the the top level of the city with my mind circling with ideas of missed opportunities that I realized something. For all the stranger had shared to me, for all the stories and laugh had in that dimly lit food dispensary, for all the kindness they had shown me I had made a fatal mistake. 

I had never asked them their name.

I had missed my opportunity......   

[tossawary]

Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction. 

-

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything. 

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK. 

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either. 

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...” 

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH. 

- 

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

- 

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan). 

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point. 

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

- 

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

 “Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

- 

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example. 

- 

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

- 

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui. 

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things? 

- 

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

- 

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH. 

- 

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

- 

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here. 

- 

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.  

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

- 

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation. 

- 

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

- 

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?” 

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!” 

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.” 

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down. 

- 

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

- 

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on. 

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders. 

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking. 

- 

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

- 

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension. 

- 

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

- 

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever). 

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea. 

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant! 

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does! 

- 

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

 “‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

 “‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

- 

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes. 

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.) 

- 

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

 “Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent. 

- 

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.) 

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss. 

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master. 

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control. 

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers. 

- 

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

 “He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

- 

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later! 

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into. 

- 

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

 “He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

 “Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

- 

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations. 

- 

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him. 

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 6

@daminette-december2019-2020

Oh what’s this? Two chapters in a row from Marinette’s pov? Sorry just couldn’t help myself, like I just had to man

Hope yall enjoy it~

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 6 – Comfort

Previous

Next

Marinette didn’t sleep that night.

Sure, negotiations had gone wonderfully and she, Cass and Steph had spent the afternoon discussing everything from fighting stances to Stephanie’s potential wedding dress. They hung out with Ivy again and went to the beach to pick up shells.

Most of the day's activities were Stephanie’s ideas but Cass and Marinette also enjoyed them. Now and then Jason and Dick would join them or Cass would go to do something or another, but Steph was practically attached to Marinette’s hip. She smiled, Alya and Chloe would be jealous.

She had fun, but when night fell and everyone had retired to their bedrooms, there was nothing to distract her from the memories.

His smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he was up to good mocked her whenever she closed her eyes. Reminding her that she’d never see them again.

When the birds started singing she’d given up trying to sleep. Marinette stood and for the last time she put on one of her black dresses. She put her hair in a single braid down her back and put on a practical pair of boots with it.

She stared at the silver necklace he gave her a month after they met. She hadn’t worn it since her week in isolation after he died. She'd kept it with her whenever she travelled but she’d never had the strength to wear it again.

She picked it up. On the silver chain hung an oval shaped emerald.

To remind you of me when I’m not with you, Bugaboo.

With shaking hands she tied it around her neck. It felt right to wear it this one last time.

She took a deep breath, she needed to be alone today, being around other people wasn’t something she had the energy for.

She eyed Tikki, still asleep on one of the many pillows on the bed. She loved her kwami dearly, but... she wasn’t in the mood for company.

She stood and walked over to where her writing supplies lie on the table. She quickly wrote a note for Tikki asking her to tell anyone who came looking for her that she was safe and that she’d be back by nightfall.

Satisfied, she grabbed her coat and her knife in its scabbard and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She didn’t want to eat, but she needed the energy if she was going to be out all day.

When she got there the staff were busy preparing the meals of the day, the smells made her stomach rumble.

She didn’t really know who to approach or what to do but before she could worry about it too much a middle aged man with red hair approached her, he wore an apron and gave her a slight smile, “You the Guardian?”

“Yes, that would be me,” she answered, before she could figure out how to ask for a basket of food or something similar he chuckled lightly.

“Your Majesty, Alfred said you might show up, he asked me to give you this and to tell you Bluebell is saddled up for you in the stables. He also said that George left a saddle bag in her stable for you,” he turned around and picked up a basket and a thick looking basket, handing them to her.

She stared at the objects in surprise, “How did he...?” she started, not even knowing how to phrase the question.

He seemed to know what she meant, though, and just shrugged, “He just does that sometimes. We’ve learned not to question it,” amusement shinning in his eyes, he continued, “But if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work,”

“Please, don’t let me stop you and uh... thank you,” she said lifting the basket slightly.

She turned out of the kitchen and a small wave of homesickness surprised her. Nathaniel also always knew what you needed before you did, helpfully supplying it before you could even phrase the question.

It was an ability all of Duusu's holders had, knowing how to take care of people and enjoying the act of doing so.

She made her way to the stables as the first rays of dawn started lighting the sky. Small rocks and sticks crunched between her boots and the cobblestone.

The fresh, chilly morning air motivated her to don her coat. When she got to the barn she saw a young dapple grey horse saddled up in her stable. The name on the door said ‘Bluebell’.

“Hey girl,” Marinette held her hand out and petted her. She opened the door and attached the saddle bag to the saddle, putting the blanket in it. She tied the medium sized basket to Bluebell’s back the way she’d been taught since it distributed the weight best.

She lead her out and once they were outside she climbed onto her back. She lightly kicked Bluebell’s sides and made her way to the forest.

She followed the well trodden path through it for an hour, while the sun slowly rose over their heads. Eventually, they reached a beautiful meadow. The path continued on, but Marinette was hungry and wanted to stop and eat.

A river ran through the clearing. The woods stretched out the other side of it. In the distance she could see the range of mountains they’d passed on their journey to Gotham.

She took out the blanket and spread it out. Then she removed and opened the basket. Inside she found all her favorite foods, as well as a bundle that contained apples, carrots and sugar cubes for Bluebell.

She allowed the horse to roam free, but she never wandered far. Marinette ate a few grapes, a small bun of bread and a few bites of cheese.

She gave Bluebell an apple and a sugar cube. The rest she rewrapped in the cloths she got them in. She removed the charcoal and parchment in the basket that Alfred had added for her to sketch with. It was a nice surprise; she wouldn’t have thought of including it.

She wasn’t sure when she started talking to Bluebell but eventually she found herself telling the horse everything, from the moment she met him to her initial thoughts. She told her about things she hadn’t thought of in ages.

She told her about how his favorite color was blue and his favorite season winter. She told her about how hard he'd tried to hide it when he started realizing he was getting sick.

She told her about how weak his grip had gotten towards the end and how it taken every piece of her self control not to take his ring and wish it all away.

She wasn’t sure when she started crying but before long her cheeks were wet and she was sobbing as she spoke of the memories and the pain and just how tired she was.

And when she was done she realized that it was already afternoon. She fed Bluebell some more, even though she’d grazed for most of the day, then she packed everything onto Bluebell.

As she rode back she felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Today she’d found something in Bluebell’s presence that she hadn’t experienced for the longest time.

Bluebell didn’t have expectations of her, she was a horse, she didn’t put her on a pedestal like everyone else, to her she was just another human.

Maybe some people would find it funny that she’d found comfort in a horse, but Marinette couldn’t bring herself to care.

It was dark when she got back, she unsaddled Bluebell and brushed her.

She dropped the basket and blanket off at the kitchen and asked the staff to pass on her thanks to Alfred.

She made her way back to her room, passing the sitting room, just as Dick was exiting it. His eyes widened when he saw her.

He looked incredibly relieved, “Guys, I found her!” he called out, then made his way over to her, worry still evident on his face.

“Marinette are you alright? We were so worried,” he took her hand and seemed to be checking her over for injuries.

She frowned, had Tikki not told them that she was going out?

Steph suddenly appeared next to her, along with Jason, Cass and Damian.

Steph pushed Dick away from her, “She’s fine, Dick, you’re invading her space. I told you that Tikki said she’d be out,”

Stephanie’s hand rested on her shoulder. But she didn’t miss the way the girl’s gaze had caught on Marinette’s red rimmed eyes, along with the black rings under them, that clearly indicated that she hadn’t slept.

All the others still seemed intent on making sure she was fine for themselves, some less discreetly than others.

Jason took her cloak off before she even realized it and had folded it, asking a passing maid to wash it and fix the tears she hadn’t noticed.

Dick kept asking questions, but she zoned him out almost immediately.

Cass steered her towards a couch in the living room, and held her hand tightly, while studying her.

Damian was frowning at her muddied boots and a tear or two in her dress. It was an old dress, she was sure none of the tears were new, but she also had a feeling that wouldn’t ease his worry.

Stephanie started arguing with Dick, telling him to leave her alone and that she was clearly fine, though it seemed like she didn’t completely believe the words herself. She wasn’t the only one though, everyone looked worried.

Marinette was surprised, sure her court cared for her. But they never worried or asked questions about where she’d been, they trusted that if she looked fine she was.

So this, this was new.

She found that she didn’t mind too much. Well, she didn’t mind it in general. Right now, however, she was tired and emotionally drained and would rather explain everything later.

“Do you want me to take you back to your room?” Damian whispered from behind her, most of the others were too caught up in their own conversations to notice.

She turned around and met his gaze. Accept this time, she didn’t flinch. He seemed surprised too, maybe talking to Bluebell had done her more good than she’d realized.

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. He studied her for a moment more before looking up and glaring at his siblings.

“That is enough,” he said evenly, “She is clearly tired. If she so wishes, she will tell us what happened tomorrow. Now, I will be escorting her to her room so that she can get some rest,”

Most of his siblings stared at him in shock, while Cass smiled approvingly. Marinette stood and took Damian’s offered arm. He escorted her out of the room.

When they got to the hallway Plagg flew out and gave her a sad smile, “Hi, pigtails,”

She softly smiled back as they walked, “Hey, Plagg,”

He landed on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You should have seen him freaking out when you were missing. A true black cat, overthinking everything when it comes to their bug. He'll do well,”

He then curled into her neck and purred, she hadn’t missed the sad tone in his voice. Plagg was still grieving, it would take time before he’d truly bond with Damian.

She looked at the boy walking next to her, he seemed to be lost in thought, but he glanced at her every now and then, as though he was checking to make sure she was still there.

She spotted the ring on his finger, reminded of what Plagg said, she decided to break the silence.

“I'm sorry if I scared you guys, I figured Tikki and the note would be enough assurance,” she said softly, turning her head to look at him.

He glanced back at her, and she saw his gaze catching on her red rimmed eyes, “She showed us the note, but those have been faked in the past to hurt us before and we don’t know what your handwriting looks like, a lot of people have been known to target us and those we’re involved with, so we’re a bit paranoid,”

Suddenly she understood their reaction, they thought she might’ve been captured and her note was planted to buy the kidnappers time.

“I didn’t realize that. Though, in future, you should know that you would’ve been able to tell if something was wrong through the miraculous, thanks to Plagg and Tikki's connection,” she said, smiling at him, “Thank you, though, I’m not used to people worrying about me,”

He looked at her in surprise, but his voice was even when he spoke, “How so?”

She shrugged and looked forward again, “People tend to overestimate me,”

What an understatement. Everyone seemed to think she was practically invulnerable. Well, except for Damian and his siblings apparently.

She felt him tense slightly, he seemed to be pretty protective of her already. He had resonated quicker with Plagg than she anticipated.

They walked the rest of the way to her room in a comfortable silence.

When they finally got there he opened her door, but before she could go in he took her hand. She turned her attention to him and he studied her for a moment, clearly hesitant.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” he said softly, staring into her eyes, gaze searching.

She stared back at him and gave him a small smile, “Goodnight Damian,”

That night she slept better than she had in years.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt

[labyrinth-runner]

“Are you scared? Don’t be. ‘ll protect you from today onwards.” For Obi x Reader please?

Title: King of Hearts

Summary: When you’re sent to a neighboring kingdom to marry the king, things do not go as planned. Warnings: None. Word Count: 5400

Tag List: @blackirisposts, @star-whores-a-new-hoe, @nerd-without-a-cause, @all-hallows-evie, @darthserling

As always, thanks to @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for being a low-key Beta.

You could hear the sound of the wheels running over the forest floor. It had been hours since your carriage had set off on its journey towards the kingdom that was to be your new home. Your legs ached from being in the same position for so long, but there was nothing you could do. Stopping now was out of the question, as you had driven into enemy territory an hour ago. Your guards had even advised against looking out the window. After all, the Princess of the neighboring kingdom would be a prime target for the warlord ravaging your kingdom. That was why it was imperative that you got to your new kingdom in one piece. Your marriage to the King would unite your two kingdoms and act as an alliance that would hopefully end the war. 

Resting your head against the wall, you absentmindedly played with your pendant as you tried to picture the man you were to marry. You’d met him once, a long time ago. The two of you had both been young when his father, Qui-Gon, had come to your kingdom for a summit. You couldn’t have been more than ten at the time. You remembered meeting an awkward teenager who would talk you out of all the mischief you had planned. He was so serious, with those crystalline blue eyes that looked like they were wise beyond their years. Most of all, you remember he was kind, having an affinity for animals that led him to spend most of his visit in the menagerie.

Now, you wondered what he was like, having been King for a few years since the death of his father at the hands of a warlord. Would he still be kind? Or would years of a harsh life have turned his heart cold? A sigh breezed through your lips as you tried to stretch in the small space. 

Thwip.

Thud.

Screaming.

You froze, hearing the unmistakable sound of an arrow being loosed into the air, and the carnage that it no doubt had caused. The horses were startled and strayed from the path, causing the carriage to run over a boulder. It started to list to the side until it was tumbling. You braced for impact as the carriage landed on its side. Peeking out of the window, you noticed you were at the bottom of a ravine. 

“I’m a sitting duck,” you realized in horror as you struggled to get the door open, let alone crawl out of the carriage. Part of you wanted to stay put, to play dead, but you knew better than to trust your attackers with your body. If they were thorough, they would finish the job. With that knowledge to steel your nerves, you used all the strength in your arms to pull yourself up through the doorway.

Once on the other side, you closed the door so that it would take them a while to notice anything was amiss. Swiftly, you moved across the clearing towards the tree line. You could hear running water nearby. If you passed through it, then they would loose your trail. Your feet propelled you further and further, vowing to yourself with each step that you would not die here, that the hope of your people’s salvation would not die here, alone, in the forest. 

The water was cold on your calves as you plunged into a running river. It was deeper than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Wading through the waist-deep water, you trudged to the opposite bank and pulled yourself up.

The foliage on that side of the river was dense enough to conceal you from your attackers. Your heart thudded in your chest as you listened to the sounds of footfalls. Through a gap in the trees, you watched as men in dark cloaks came into view, searching for you. When they passed by without incident, you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

On the horizon, the sun was starting to set. You knew you couldn’t stay in the woods forever, but you couldn’t travel as you were either. Your clothes were much too rich for the area. No, you’d have to go back to the carriage and hope to salvage some of the clothes that your maid had packed.

Mary, you thought sadly. She had been riding on the front of the carriage when you were attacked. There was no way she would have survived. A pang of guilt washed over you, but you had to shove it aside. Your feelings, as valid as they were, would not enable you to survive if you dwelled in sadness. 

Somehow, the water seemed colder the second time around. It felt like tiny knives stabbing into your skin as you made your way back, retracing your steps as best you could in the falling darkness. 

Eventually, the carriage came into view, it’s dark form rising out of the shadows. Your luggage was strewn across the ground, with some crates leaking fabrics. Surprisingly, your treasure was untouched. 

“So it was never about the money,” you sighed, “It was always about me.”

With a shake of your head, you started to root around for a plain outfit that would be warm enough in the cool night air. You found a blue servants gown and a brown wool cloak that would suit you nicely. Quickly, you changed into it.

Laying on the ground a few feet away was a crumpled body of one of your soldiers. With some care, you removed his dagger and attached it to your own body. You hoped you would never have to use it, but you would rather have and not need, than need and not have.

Lastly, you took your pendant in your hand, a wedding gift from your fiancé. On it was his crest along with your family’s motto on the back. Ad astra per aspera. You tucked it under the neckline of your dress before looking up at the stars. Giving the guiding lights a resolute nod, you started to walk.

You walked for what felt like miles with no end in sight until dawn started to break over the horizon. Streaks of light cut through the canopy overhead washing everything in a warm amber glow. The trees started to thin out and a small town could be seen past the fields and farms on the outskirts near the forest. To your dismay, you could see that the town was crawling with enemy troops. You pulled your cloak further down your forehead to hopefully obscure your face. As much as you just wanted to walk past the town, your stomach was growling and would not be ignored. 

Trudging into the tavern, you slipped into a seat in the corner hoping to avoid detection.

The gods were not smiling upon you.

As soon as you sat, a group of soldiers sauntered over towards you.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you a new face?” one of them purred as the barkeep placed a bowl of soup in front of you.

You pointedly ignored them, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Instead, another soldier sat across from you. “Are you traveling alone? You know that’s dangerous with a war on. Wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you to get caught in the cross fires.”

“You know, when a lass ignores you, that’s usually a sign that you should stop talking,” a man said from behind them.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” The soldier taunted back.

“This,” the man simply stated before punching him in the face.

A brawl soon broke out in front of you. With a sigh of annoyance, you picked up your bowl of soup and side-stepped the kerfuffle to finish eating your soup at the bar. 

The men continued to brawl until the owner kicked them out. Then, the owner turned towards you, “And you, too.”

“But I-” you started to protest.

“Out! You’re bad for business,” he said sternly.

You sighed. At least you’d finished eating. It was time to move on from here, anyway. Pulling your hood back over your head, you made your way out of the tavern and into the street, seeing the man and a younger boy nursing their wounds as the soldiers stalked off down the road.

“Are you alright, lass?” the man called out. He looked like a farmer, based off his clothing. The boy with him must be his farmhand, you surmised.

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do that. I was capable of handling it myself.”

“Were you just going to sit in silence and suffer their presence?” he asked, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He had a scruffy beard, but the most amazing eyes. 

Your face felt hot as you looked away, “I suppose I should thank you, then. For saving me the trouble of their company.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a kind smile. “Where are you headed, lass?”

“Stewjon,” you said before pausing. Thinking on your feet, you came up with a reasonable lie. After all, you weren’t sure how they would treat the princess of a neighboring kingdom, even if they had just defended your right to eat in silence. “I’m an ambassador from a neighboring kingdom looking to bend the king’s ear.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. You technically were a representative of your kingdom, and you were hoping the King would listen and help his new wife’s homeland. You absentmindedly played with your necklace while you waited to see if he’d accept your lie.

The farmer nodded, “We’ll take you there.” He cast a suspicious look at the pendant in your hand, squinting at it slightly. 

Quickly, you tucked it back into your neckline.

They started to walk and you followed them in silence, sizing them up. The two men seemed to have an unspoken language between them, knowing how the other would tackle the stumbling blocks in the road or which path to take to get to the right place. Their’s was an easy companionship from what you could see. Every once in a while they’d crack jokes when they tripped or slipped.

“No wonder you aren’t a knight, if a tree limb can trip you up,” the farmer teased.

“Better me than you,” the younger man quipped. “I don’t know if your old bones could handle a tumble.”

The man thwacked him up the side of his head.

“Ow!” the boy complained.

“Respect your elders,” the man simply stated, sending you a wink.

A chuckle breezed through your lips at their banter.

“See? Even the lady thinks you’re a fool,” the farmer smirked.

“Or maybe she just happens to find my antics amusing,” the boy straightened. “After all, she does have Anakin Skywalker at her service.” He affected a low bow, waggling his eyebrows at you as he looked up.

You giggled, “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Skywalker. And you, Sir?” you turned towards the farmer. “I should like to know the name of my savior.”

“Oh, should you now?” he asked, his smile slipping slightly. “It’s Ben.”

You nodded, “Ben and Ani.”

Ben looked up at the sky and cursed, “We’ll have to make camp.”

“But it’s midday,” you replied.

He pointed towards the horizon, “Those clouds spell a storm. We’ll want to find a nice, dry cave to stop in until it passes.”

“There’s a mountain ridge up ahead,” Anakin added. “There should be a cave there.”

“The river’s a bit to the south. If the lass wouldn’t mind getting some water?” Ben asked, handing you a canteen.

You nodded, taking it from him going off towards the direction he indicated. You could hear Ben ordering Anakin about as you left.

The stream wasn’t too hard to find, and it was significantly less cold than the one you had found yourself in the day before. As you dipped the canteen in the river to gather water,  you caught sight of your reflection. There were trees in your once-neat hair, dirt was caked on your limbs, and bits of blood were dried here and there from where you had been nicked by brambles and branches.

Casting a look from side to side, you realized you were alone. You may not get another moment like this, and you certainly did not want to show up to the palace in such a state. In moments, you had undressed and waded into the running water. Taking a handkerchief from your clothes, you used it to scrub yourself clean, marveling in the fresh feeling of once again being spotless. You leaned back, floating for a moment as you let yourself relax.

“Lass, we found a cave,” Ben called out as he came trudging through the bushes. Then, he caught sight of the clothes on the riverbank and his eyes briefly flicked to your floating body before he averted his gaze.

You straightened immediately. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Please, don’t apologize. I should have been more discreet. I averted my gaze as quickly as I could,” he replied, keeping his back towards you as you got out of the river and dressed.

“How far is the cave?”

“Not very far,” he replied.

Gently, you took his hand to hide the look of embarrassment. His hand was warm around yours, comforting. “Lead the way.”

Soon you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave. Inside, Anakin had started a small fire and spread out their cloaks to cover the ground to make it softer.

The three of you sat as the start of the storm could be heard outside.

“I guess you were right,” you murmured.

“He’s always right,” Anakin said pointedly.

Ben rolled his eyes, “I just had to learn this from my father at a young age.”

“Because of working in the fields?” you asked.

He blinked, “Y-yes.”

You stared out the mouth of the cave at the steadily growing storm. “Can you tell me a bit about the king?”

“Haven’t you met him before?” Ben asked.

“A long time ago,” you said wistfully. “It’s been a while. People can change. Life changes them.”

“He’s a hard ass,” Anakin smirked. That earned him another thwack from Ben. “Alright, I lied. He’s kind. He’s a real people’s man.” The younger man laid down on his cloak and turned away from you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.”

That just left you and Ben.

At first, the silence was deafening, but then the ice broke and conversation became easy.

The two of you talked for hours about anything and everything under the sun, from childhood experiences to the things you did for fun. There was so much that you two had in common, and talking to him was so easy. You’d never felt more at ease. As you talked, you noticed little things about him. The crinkle near the corner of his eyes from smiling was your first observation. Then, it was how beautiful the color of his eyes were. In the back of your mind, you wondered how soft his beard was. Still, all the while you kept swapping stories and learning more and more about this handsome man who had rescued you. When you woke up on his shoulder later on, you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured. 

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean smell hanging in the air. Anakin was snoring softly across the cave. The fire casted Ben in a warm amber glow that you found entrancing. Gently, you reached up to smooth a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes softened as he looked down at you. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing as his cheek pressed into your palm. Your thumb caressed the edge of his beard as you found your eyes settling on his lips. In the back of your mind, a voice said you probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you found yourself leaning in anyway. Your lips connected with his, pressing firmly against him. He kissed back almost immediately, slipping his hand to your neck as his fingers snaked into your hair. The cave was suddenly warmer than you could handle and you pulled back, eyes wide at what you’d done.

Anakin stretched behind you, waking up. “Well, I suppose we should start walking again?”

Ben answered, not taking his eyes off you. “Yes, we should. Then we’ll at least reach the city limits by daybreak tomorrow.”

“We’re going to walk through the night?” you asked in dismay.

“It’s best that we make haste,” Ben replied, getting up and pulling his cloak back on.

“R-right,” Anakin seconded, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of you.

“If we make it to the city limits by dawn, then we’ll be able to rent a horse for the last leg of the journey,” Ben added, as a consolation. 

You nodded, getting yourself together to follow them out into the late afternoon sun.

The walk was harder now, with the ground slick with wet grass and mud. It was slower going, and somehow you managed to hold onto Ben’s hand the entire time. He kept you from falling, and pulled you out of the mud when you got stuck. He barely looked at you as you went until you needed help. Then, there was concern in his eyes as he steadied you, an extra hand on your arm to make sure that you were in fact alright. 

It confused you. You were to be married to a man you hadn’t known in a long time, and yet here you were falling for a farmer who couldn’t even look at you for longer that ten seconds since you’d kissed. Still, you knew that nothing you’d have with the King would ever be as easy as with this farmer, but there was nothing you could do. Your kingdom needed this alliance. However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t stumble or slip a bit more so that you could spend more time with the farmer. All you were doing was prolonging the inevitable, you knew that. Yet, you wanted to do it. You were enjoying this sense of freedom before being bogged down with the needs of a kingdom again.

As night drew nearer, you held his hand tighter, not wanting to get separated in the dark. Ben gave your hand reassuring squeezes intermittently. Once, although you could not see it, you felt him bring your hand to his lips and kiss it when you’d stopped at a fork in the road.

Somehow, they knew the way in the dark. It was almost as if they’d spent years traveling these roads, which you thought was odd for a farmer. Then again, he probably traveled to sell his wares. As it got darker, it grew colder. That was when you felt a cloak being dropped on your shoulders. You nestled into it, squeezing his hand in response. 

Your feet were so tired you felt like they would fall off of your body and abandon you. At that point, you realized that you had been walked the majority of the way to the palace, a trip that took about six hours by carriage, but a day and a half on foot. You wanted to stop. You wanted to rest. But, you knew that if you were tired, then so were they. Yet, they kept going to get you to your destination. They didn’t give up, and neither would you.

Finally, dawn started to break. You’d broken out onto wide open road a while ago, but now in the early morning rays, you could see the city sprawling before you and the ocean beyond it. You nestled further into your layers as the sea breeze ruffled the fabric. 

“Is that...?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at it. “That’s Stewjon.”

“It’s massive,” you breathed. 

“Which is why I said we’d get horses to take you to the palace,” he winked. “Besides, the best way to tour the city for the first time is on horse.”

“You’re going to give me a tour?” you asked, unable to keep the giddiness from your voice. Perhaps you didn’t have to say goodbye so soon, after all.

“If that is alright with you,” he grinned.

“You two go on ahead,” Anakin yawned. “I’m going to go home.”

Ben shot him a glare.

Your brow furrowed. Home? But they were farmers. There were no farms around the city.

“I mean... I’m going to find some lodgings,” Anakin chuckled nervously. “You know, my brain is so tired I should get some sleep so I can start making sense again.”

You raised a brow as the boy awkwardly backed away.

Ben gently took your hand and tugged you towards the stables. “Wait here.”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you waited for him to return with a horse. He helped you up into the saddle before climbing on behind you. His body was warm against your back and you found yourself leaning into him, resting your back against his chest.

He set the horse into a slow pace, pointing out various businesses and places all over the town. People waved to him as he passed and he waved back.

“You’re quite popular,” you teased.

“Nonsense,” he murmured, “They’re just friendly here.”

“I hope I’m well received,” you sighed.

“I’m sure you will be, lass,” he whispered in your ear.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine in a way you’d never felt before. As you closed your eyes, you pictured what it would be like to have him whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of your bedroom. His hands were warm around yours as he held onto the reins. They were large and calloused. You couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against your skin, fingers splayed as they trailed up your sides.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, severing your connection to your daydream. You couldn’t be thinking like this. Not now. 

“Take me to the palace, please,” you said with a sad smile.

“Of course,” Ben replied, but you thought there was a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice.

The rest of the ride was silent. He put you down in front of the palace steps. Each step up them put more and more distance between the two of you in more ways than just physically. With every step, you tried to wall up your heart to protect you. You didn’t dare to say goodbye for fear of not being able to let go. You felt foolish, loving a man so easily and so quickly, but it felt like you’d know him for years, not mere days.

You placed your hand on the door, fingers spread and pushed it in to enter a grand hall. A woman quickly flitted over to you, giving you a hard appraisal.

“I’m sorry, but the King isn’t seeing to the townspeople today.”

“Oh, I’m not....” you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to explain yourself as the woman raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m the King’s betrothed. My carriage was attacked and I had to walk the rest of the way here.” You dug out the necklace that the King had sent you as a gift and showed it to her.

Her eyes lit up in recognition and she curtseyed, “Of course, your highness. My apologies. My name is Padmé Amidala. I serve as an advisor to the King. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.”

“May I not see the King first?” you asked. “I’ve traveled all this way.”

“Wouldn’t you like to make yourself look....presentable first?” 

You looked down and took in your appearance. “I suppose I ought to.”

Padmé nodded and led you towards your rooms. They were grand rooms, richly furnished with all the finest pieces and fabrics. Yet, they lacked the warmth and familiarity of yours back home.

Servants came to draw a bath for you. Once it was full, you dismissed them and sunk into the tub. It’s nice to bathe in warm water again, you thought as you leaned your head against the rim of the tub. 

Your eyes cast a critical glance back and forth as you took in your surroundings. As nice as the rooms were, part of you wondered if it were only a temporary arrangement. After all, you’d have to move into the King’s room eventually once you were married.

Quickly, you sunk below the water at the thought. Sharing a room with another person? Hell, sharing a room with a man? The thought was overwhelming.

When you broke back through the surface, you noticed that the sun was starting to set. It was then that you realized just how much time you had spent with Ben around town. It had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Your fingers started to wrinkle from the water and you decided to emerge from the tub. Wrapping a robe around you, you padded back towards your bedroom to find Padmé waiting for you.

“Your highness, we must take some measurements for your wedding dress,” she informed you as a group of handmaidens swarmed into the room. 

You were guided up onto a pedestal and turned this way and that as they draped a gown around you, pinning and stitching things in place. 

“How soon will this be finished?” you asked.

“Don’t fret, your highness, I’ll have the dress finished in time for your nuptials tomorrow,” the seamstress said as she packed up her things.

“Tomorrow?” you asked incredulously. It was so much sooner than you thought.

“Of course,” Padmé smiled, “The King will want to marry you at sunset tomorrow, as is tradition.”

“Isn’t that... quite soon?” you asked.

“You’ve known each other for years, have you not?”

“Well,” you sighed as you pulled your robe back on. “May I at least speak with the King first?”

“I’m afraid not, your highness,” she said with a sad smile, “His majesty is in a meeting with the war council tonight. It’s to go over plans for reinforcing your father’s troops. I don’t think he’ll be out any time soon.”

“I see,” you said, a frown of disappointment apparent on your face. “I’d like to enjoy dinner in my room tonight, Padmé. There’s no sense in eating in the dining room if I am to be eating alone.”

“Of course, your highness,” Padmé nodded, ushering everyone out the door. She paused in the doorway before turning back to you. “If it helps at all, your highness, please know that his majesty is a kind man. He is just as nervous about this as you, but I can promise you that everything he will ever do is to protect you. When you were late in arriving.... well, I have never seen him more distraught. I was sure he’d scour the kingdom just to find you.”

“I see,” you murmured, looking out the window at the vast kingdom. “Thank you, Padmé.”

She left without another word.

When dinner arrived, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but then you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since the tavern fiasco. Regardless of whether or not it actually was the best meal you’ve eaten, your hunger made it so. 

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky had turned into the indigo depths of a lightless ocean. You settled on the window seat and opened the window to feel the chill night air on your face. Your farmer was out there somewhere, with his eyes like the sky in the morning when you have a whole day ahead of you, bright and nary a cloud in the sky. As you closed your eyes, you pictured his face, his strong jaw, his beard as it brushed the shell of your ear during the tour of the kingdom, his strong arms as they wrapped around you. Never had you felt more safe. 

You fell asleep on the bench, dreaming of your farmer. It wasn’t until much later that you woke up to a pair of arms carrying you to bed.

Fluttering your eyelids, you noticed a shadow holding you. Your first instinct was to push back as you gasped in fear.

“Shhhhh, lass,” a man murmured as he tucked you into the covers. “Are you scared?” He gently smoothed your hair out of your face, “Don’t be. I’ll protect you from today onwards. Always.”

In your heart, you believed him. You couldn’t make out any of his features as he retreated towards the hall, but when he opened the door, the candlelight reflected off the crown on his head. By then, you could barely keep your eyes open and let yourself succumb to sleep.

Padmé let you sleep in the next morning, having guessed that you had been through quite the ordeal and were thoroughly exhausted. When they finally woke you up, it was around noon and they started to get you ready for your wedding.

It was all a blur as you felt your nerves begin to rise, settling into your chest like a weight. You couldn’t eat, instead just allowing yourself to be taken over by the process and trusting your new handmaidens and Padmé completely.

Soon, you found yourself at the chapel as the afternoon sun started to set, swathing you in colorful light from the stained glass. Your hand came up to squeeze your pendant in your hand, wishing that your father could have been there. Ahead of you stood a man with his back towards you, a crown nestled in his auburn hair. Part of you wondered if you could really go through with this, but then you remembered that this was for the good of the kingdom. Your life was never just yours. You lived for your people, and what your people needed was for you to solidify this alliance. For your own sake, you hoped that love would come later, once Ben was long forgotten. If you could ever manage that.

You walked with a measured gait towards the front of the chapel, coming to rest next to the man that would be your husband. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but then he turned to you and time stopped.

He watched with a smile as your eyes widened and your mouth parted slightly. He was so very handsome. His beard looked incredibly soft. His eyes were a brilliant blue and you were certain that you’d drown in them someday. He was your farmer, and here he was holding his hand out for you to take.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured as you took his hand.

“When you didn’t show up as expected, I had to go searching for you. We traveled the main road and found your carriage. Then, Anakin and I broke off to find you,” he explained.

“But I thought-”

“That I was a farmer,” he grinned, “I couldn’t put a target on my back when there was already one on yours. Traveling the way we did was better for all involved.”

“You could’ve told me,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“I hadn’t seen you in years. I wanted to know you just as you are, and for you to know me in the same regard,” he replied, kissing your hand.

“And the name Ben?” you asked.

“A nickname from an old friend who lives in a cloister,” he explained.

“I love you,” you told him earnestly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, “I love you, too, lass.”

The bishop cleared his throat in front of you and you both shared a wide grin before turning back towards him to finish the proceedings.

For the entire ceremony, you were thinking of the man standing next to you and how you knew that no matter what, everything would be alright. You recited your vows, exchanged your rings, and turned back towards each other.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Your majesty, you may kiss your bride,” the bishop grinned.

Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed down your face towards your lips as his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His other hand came up to tilt your face towards his. Gently, he stroked his thumb across your cheek. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you settled your hands on his chest. 

He leaned down to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours. To your surprise, he dipped you back, causing you to chuckle against his lips as he straightened the two of you out. Then, he scooped you up and carried you towards your castle so that you could live happily ever after.  

[chrys-is-back]

Act I: The Journey Begins (pt.2)

Quincy went quiet. The weight he burdened from the knowledge of the question Chrys brought up, although he knew it would come eventually, was still something he wasn’t quite yet prepared to answer. His previous smile was now a little dimmer as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, but seeing Chrys so intently staring him down from not too far away, he was quick to then let out a small chuckle, albeit an awkward one, to try and keep the tone of the room lightened.

“Chrys, I-er...” he hesitated, gulping once as he let his gaze wander about to avoid seeing her face, but Chrys was quick to lean back into view curiously wondering what had him so choked up all of a sudden. Despite everything she had been through that led up to where she was now, there was a spark of innocence in those eyes still; she held a look of hopefulness, for as long as she could form her own comprehensive thoughts and actions Chrys made it her ultimate goal in life to find her parents.

“Quincy.” She finally spoke up which snapped him out of his trance of thought. “I know why you’re nervous.” She said while looking down a bit. This statement scaring the Lurantis more than she could imagine. Did he make it so obvious? Was he about to crush the closest thing he could call a daughter’s heart without even saying a single word.

“Chrys--” He went to start, but the Lilleena only shook her head, quick to cut him off with her own finished thought.

“If you don’t know anything you don’t have to feel bad about it~!” She suddenly said which froze Quincy in place. He had jumped the gun a bit, the reality of the situation was she thought he was as in the dark about them as she was? A wave of relief washed over him as his entire posture relaxed with a small sigh even escaping his nostrils through a heavy exhale. “I mean, you have to at LEAST know their faces though, are you make me believe that my sister and I showed up in that fantasy tale of the baby left in the rain on the porch in a basket?...In fact my sister was at least old enough to walk on her own! So no way that’s the case, they HAD to have left us...for a reason I swear I’ll find out!”

Quincy gave a solemn smile at that last bit

“So can you at LEAST tell me what they looked like? Were they pretty? Were they tall or short?...Me and Sylph are both mixbreeds of two female species, how is that even possible? -GASP-...were they MAGICAL?”

Quincy was silent again, his gaze going upward to the left for a moment to recollect some details about these mysterious parents before finally returning to Chrys’ face as he leaned forward and gave a smirk. “Well---look...I think you’re old enough now to know about them, are you ready Chrys? I’ll tell you all I know about them and I assure you.” He’d wink at her. “I know a lot more than you think so I think today you’ll be quite more informed about them than you’ve ever been.”

And that was all it took to get Chrys beaming excitedly again as her eyes widened, pupils dilating and even somehow getting sparkles in them that were bright enough to possible even let out a dazzle gleam attack in Quincy’s direction. “TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!!!” She chanted while practically bouncing in her seat getting a nervous chuckle from Quincy who wondered what he had just awoken inside the hyperactive little sprout she was.

“Okay, okay, okay! Hahah, settle down and let me think, okay? It’s been a while. I’m not elderly yet, but I am getting older so you gotta let me refresh myself a bit.” He rubbed the back of one of his claws on his cheek as he thought to himself again for a moment. “Let’s see...you’re right about one thing. Your mom--is actually your moms. A Lilligant and a Tsareena, two commonly known predominantly female species that you and Sylph originate from. As for what they looked like? Hmm...well in the best way I could put it, the Tsareena was much more like your sister Sylph.” “So she was pretty?!”

“Ehehe, yes, she was very pretty. I mean that more in the sense of...she was stern and more like Sylph in the sense that she took her duties around the kingdom seriously, in fact!, Coincidentally she too was very close to the queen like how Sylph is.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well...Darina’s kingdom is pretty big on mix breeds existing I’m sure you already know, but Darina’s not a cruel queen, some Kingdom’s are strict on enforcing their biases to mix species and purebreds, but Darina is nice enough to accept purebreds like even me into her kingdom so long as we can prove we pose no threat and that’s how I got to be here as long as I have and that is also how your mothers got to be here as well, but specifically your Tsareena mother was very grateful to the queen for what she permitted them to do so a lot of her work was volunteer based to help the knights, the denizens, anyone she could to show her loyalty and usefulness.”

“That certainly does sound like Sylph.” Chrys would passively comment with an eye roll which warranted Percy to reach a claw out and platfully push down on her head.

“Yeah well...go easy on your sister, okay? I know it may not seem like it, but I assure you she only does everything she does for you and even if she seems high-strung on the Queen, it’s only because it’s her job to be where as in the end of it all, she’d still put your life above hers, but don’t go saying that everywhere okay? Avoid getting you both in trouble, yeah?”

“I guess..I just wish she would be given more time to be with me is all...wait, but this was all about the Tsareena mom and how she was like Sylph, does that mean-”

“Yes, yes it does. The Lilligant mom was more like you. A free spirit. Now granted, it’s not like she too wasn’t in an eternal gratitude to the Queen for her permiitance to be in this kingdom, but she merely desired a nice life with your other mom which-” “Is kinda like how I want to spend so much time with my big sister!” “Exactly~! BUUUUUUUT, you may also like to hear that she was frequently getting in trouble just as you do for exploring where she shouldn’t be--or, rather, exploring places that she shouldn’t in the sense of it posing a danger to herself. I used to always say you got it from your mother, I suppose now you get to find out what that means, huh?”

There was a big grin on Chrys’ face upon hearing that. Her eyes even began to water a little showing beginning signs of tears welling up as all she could imagine was her mom and her out and about on “adventures” that Chrys tended to go on spontaneously, but these weren’t sad tears, in fact her smile persisted even as she had to quickly close her eyes and wipe her arm on them to rid herself of the tears before they could fall. She felt proud that she could turn out like her mom and to that same extent Sylph turning out like them too. Quickly letting out a giggle to stop Quincy from Worrying, she kicked her feet again while leaning forward with a beaming, ear to ear grin on her face. “So apples didn’t fall too far from the tree then, huh~?”

“Certainly not, Chrysanthemum. And I’m sure if they turned up again some day they’d be just as happy to see that for themselves too.” The Lurantis would reply 

“But I have one more question, Uncle Q.”

“Hmm?”

“How---exactly did two females make Sylph and I?”

“Uhhhhh--”

“If it’s embarrassing or inappropriate leave me out of the loop!”

“No no, it’s none of that--uhm...hmm...it had to do with this special place--”

“IF IT’S EMBARRASSING OR INAPPROPRIATE PLEASE LEAVE ME OUT OF THE LOOP.”

“Not that kind of special place!!! I meant it more like--there was a place in a foreign land they traveled to. It was known something like...Khabadallah’s crescent? Yeah that was it! Khabadallah’s Crescent.”

“What the hey is that?”

“It’s a unique island..from what they explained to me the first time they went there which resulted in Sylph...it’s a crescent shaped island that was once inhabited by a Xerneas who resides there as a giant world-like tree.”

“Like the baby Xern...” Chrys whispered with those sparkles in her eyes again.

“Now how did this result in you and Sylph happening? Well it’s said that a lot of couples who know of the place tend to go out to it because the tree that the Xerneas resides as has blessed the island with the Xerneas’ life creating essences and energies so even the most unlikely of couples to produce kids can pray to the tree and so far with a one-hundred percent success rate find themselves able to bear the child of the partner who’s child they wish to bear. Obviously---the details weren’t disclosed to me, but I think it’s safe to say that when they went there they got all they had hoped for with Sylph and then later on again with you.”

Chrys pondered that for a moment. “So they went back twice, the first for Sylph and the second for me...”

Quincy nodded “Yes.”

“And if they wanted another child...they would go back again right?”

“That would make sense yes.”

“So--if I find this Crescent then surely that means I would be able to find my moms!”

“Er---well..maybe not it’s kinda been a long time n-”

“THANKS QUINCY, YOU JUST GAVE ME THE BIGGEST LEAD I’VE EVER HAD!!” The Lilleena would call over her shoulder as she had then quickly sprang up and was sprinting out of the shop.

A sense of dread coming back to the Lurantis again as he knows that when Chrys has a goal in mind there is almost nothing that will stop her from pursuing it. Reaching the entrance to his orphanage he could see she was already yards ahead of him on another mad dash leaving chaos in her wake, the last thing being heard from her being

“THE NEXT ADVENTURE BEGINS~!”

with Quincy only slumping over in the door way asking himself, “What did I do...?”

[streetsandsodiumlights]

its 4 am time to post feelings

sometimes i get worried about my friends having significant others and not... prioritizing our friendship as highly as they did before they started dating those people? and it’s usually not even a reasonable fear; my friends aren’t that kind of person. my friends are the kind of people who love me enough to not drop me just cause theyre dating people so like... it’s a worthless fear. it’s the sort of fear that’s only reasonable in wild fantasies and dreams and nightmares.

i think the fear itself stems from like... the way romantic relationships are presented as somehow more important than friendships in pop culture i guess. i’m presented with the image that the platonic love i have for my friends--and the love they have for me--is lesser than romantic love. and that’s a troubling image for me cause, bein on the aro spectrum, it’s... tough to just accept that im always gonna be missing out on something that’s supposed to be better than the best thing i have right now.

in the past ive done a lot of projecting based on this fear. i’ve wish-hope-believed that the people i’ve considered my best friends are also aromantic, and i’ve agreed to date people because they were at the time my closest confidant and i wanted to express that i cared for them, and i’ve had crushes on people who were unattainable because i didn’t want to accept that i was aro but i didn’t actually want to date people anyway. i’ve had crushes on idealized versions of people and forgotten who they actually were when i only considered them a friend. i’ve paid incredibly close attention to the minutest details of my friends’ behavior toward other people so that i would know if they had a crush, if they were about to leave me behind in favor of this... mythical Something More Than Friends, and i’ve always laughed off the times that i’ve known someone likes another person without being told; “i’m just good with this stuff.”

and i’ve tried to be reasonable with myself about this, too. i already know that my friends aren’t just gonna drop me cause they’re dating someone. it’s not like them, not to mention it’s never happened in the history of my friends dating people. i’ve got precedent here that says i don’t need to be afraid, but fear is like that sometimes.

and honestly all of this isn’t even about the fact that my friends are dating people. it really just comes down to me really not knowing if i’m really aroflux, or if i’m just flat out aromantic. cause i honestly don’t want to be aromantic; i want the tiny sliver of a chance that i’m gonna find the Mythical Something More with someone and finally really understand why romance is such a pervasive or, ubiquitous, thing in our society. but the more pointless, unattainable, idealized crushes i go through the more i start to think that maybe there’s something i need to accept about myself before i can finally find peace with this issue.

never thought i’d struggle with self acceptance. never thought i’d manifest that struggle the way i have been, and never thought i’d make this post at four in the morning thinking “huh sometimes im scared of my friends not being friends with me anymore after they start dating someone” and that i’d end with “this is an issue with myself about me being aro” but if that isn’t the nature of late night feelings jams i don’t know what is....

[yongiefilms]

EVANESCENCE.

pairing: mark lee x reader (female)

genre: fluff; angst; hints of humor; best friends!au; high school!au; college!au; unrequited love!au

warnings: language, heartbreak, indirect mentions of depression, crying is involved, mentions of death and loss, complex feelings, if you have a weak heart this may be hard to bear, you are literally in for a ride with a lot of ups and downs (i don’t know this is hard to put warnings on for some reason just beware with angsty teen feels aka angsty teen mark)

word count: 6.4k (how did i write this much? it is surely a mystery)

summary: distance is hard for anyone. it’s especially hard for couples, and maybe even more so best friends. with hundreds of thousands of miles separating you and mark lee, it’s impossible not to note the countless possibilities of what could go so wrong by being away from each other for an unknown amount of time. to cope with that longing mark lee writes to you, and he can only hope the feelings he pours out to you on paper are enough to keep that one thread you both are hanging by, unwavering and simply together.

author’s note: this fic is dedicated to our favorite giggly, watermelon loving, and adorably awkward social boy—mark lee. it’s officially his birthday in the states so happy 21st birthday, my precious and sweet boy. thank you for always brightening up our world and putting a smile on our faces. also, huge shoutout to my proofreaders/beta readers ( @wooqzi​ and @mjlkau​ ). you both were literally lifesavers and i can’t thank you enough for enduring through this semi-long fic with me, but i love you my renjun enthusiasts, you’re amazing.

THE CONTENTS OF THIS LETTER IS CONFIDENTIAL AND SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE OTHER THAN Y/N L/N. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

march 16, 20XX

my dearest y/n,

i remember the first time i saw you. i remember it so vividly that it seems like it was just yesterday, a fleeting instant in time that managed to stand still, being permanently engraved in my brain. it was november 15th, 20XX—our sophomore year of high school. i recall walking into our school’s library at around 3:25pm because i had to return a book from my literature and composition class. at that point i was also still waiting for my ride to come pick me up so i thought why not kill two birds with one stone? however, i wasn’t prepared for what i would see. (call me cheesy, though i already know you did once you saw the first couple of sentences).

when i strode in i saw you as if we were in the movies, where the male lead is stunned into awe at the gorgeous girl he comes across. you were sitting at a table by yourself in the center of the room with your back to me and the infamous large window that covered nearly the entire wall behind you. for some reason that same day was exceptionally beautiful. the sky was a vibrant blue shade with a few remains of scattered clouds, dotting the sky in white freckles. the sun shone a little brighter than usual, its warmth felt like a blanket wrapped around the body and it reflected across your face at the heaven-sent angle when you turned your head the tiniest bit, adoring you in a pleasant glow. i strolled in right at that moment when the sun decided to showcase you in its beauty and i couldn’t help but be astonished. you looked so ethereal and virtuous. i simply couldn’t look away. your arms were rested on the table, on either side of the book you had opened and when the sun was covered by a transient cloud, casting you in its shadow, is when you became more real, more like someone who was attainable. you then suddenly groaned and put your head down rather harshly on top of the book, emitting a loud sigh. i was quite surprised that no one called you out due to the noise you were making, you were in a library after all. (just know i can picture you rolling your eyes just about now).

yet i perceived it was odd that from merely hearing your sound of distress, i wanted to protect you. i wanted to shield you from future harm and future inapt doings. you made my heart clench so tightly i wondered what was wrong with me and how i could feel so deeply. i didn’t even know you. i hadn’t even seen you around school before. you were a stranger to me so why did i feel a certain way? i questioned myself and even still, to this day, i can’t bring myself to give you answers for that query nor can i find them. i suppose that is where i put the blame for what happened next.

i was so caught up in my head that i didn’t notice my feet had moved on their own accord right next to your table, where your head still rested. i know i must have looked insane and i don’t inculpate you for your reaction in the slightest. i was brought back to reality when the sun shone in my eyes just allowing me to turn my head to see you in your empyrean grandeur. the timing was appropriate too, because that was when you snapped your head up to meet my eyes. i was as startled as you, but it showed more clearly in your eyes rather than mine, considering i was so disoriented from reality. your eyes were wide, allowing me to clearly see the stunning color that was full of curiosity. you tilted your head to the right like a lost puppy kicked to the curb, waiting for someone to finally claim them. nevertheless, your own surprise didn’t last long since mere seconds after you scoffed loudly and turned away from me to bring your attention back to your assignment. your next words were the ones that sealed the deal and i seriously must have been crazy to be attracted by mere words that offended me above all, but they didn’t. if anything my heart clenched in my chest even more. (i must have been so out of it…i know you are laughing your ass off right now because of the dilemma i had. cruel). but you said, “what the hell are you looking at? you weirdo.” i knew then that would be the start of a glorious friendship and it was. i never happen to be wrong and that was one time i was thankful, even if it isn’t my most fondest memory (shut up) it still sparked the start of something much greater. something that i felt could last a lifetime.

so yes, we became the best of friends ever since that day and what a wild ride it was to get to that point. i knew you considered me too weird, too quiet, and too awkward for your taste, but we made the friendship work. we became inseparable even in our differences and for the rest of the years to come in high school, we were joined by the hip. there wasn’t you without me and there wasn’t me without you. you always had mark lee with y/n l/n and vice versa. i guess you could say you had me marked in your heart as you were in mine. (cue another eye roll and a laugh. i know you laughed). we were known for being that inseparable duo of best friends. you couldn’t have one without the other. some thought it was peculiar to see the once lonely boy and spirited girl befriend one another and be so compatible. it was unexpected, but they got used to it like all the other things that come and go. they came to accept it and even if their opinions didn’t matter to you, those things did to me because i wasn’t like you. i couldn’t brush off dislike or unacceptance. i didn’t have the power to do so, but don’t worry anymore, my love, i have come a long way and perhaps it is all due to you.

i’ve always wondered how we balanced each other out since everyone said we just didn’t quite fit the picture. you were dauntless and confident, knowing exactly what you wanted and you weren’t afraid to go out to get it. while i was embarrassing and closed off, not knowing the path to follow for my life and too scared to make mistakes when i knew i couldn’t fix them. although through our own struggles we were able to help each other grow and find ourselves. we became comfortable in our own skin and accepted who we were with all our faults, failures, and imperfections. you were someone who guided me and i only hoped that i was able to guide you the same way you did during this absurd journey of teenage life.

i suppose that is why i am afraid to tell you these next few words, these next few paragraphs that place my heart out for everyone to see and hear—but i don’t care about them, i only have ever cared for you and i always will. you may have assumed this from the start of this letter or it may have gone over your head as something that is normal for everyone to experience with another attractive soul at first glance. or you may have known throughout our years of knowing each other. you could have picked up the signs of things that weren’t so platonic—the gazes, the touches, or the words that meant something more than just friendly. you could have noticed, but refused to acknowledge the deeper undertones for your sake and most certainly my own. i know you and i know the last thing you would want for me is to be hurt or disappointed. to feel like you failed me when in reality if you knew that wouldn’t have mattered, since to me our friendship is worth more than any romance, if there would have been one at all. so you know, i am certain now, but it still scares me to write it down, to have it on permanent record for you to read whenever you want.

so here it goes.

over that time, over the course of us getting to know each other and becoming who we are today, the best of friends, i slowly started to fall for you—the person you were, someone i couldn’t be even if i tried. someone so raw, beautiful, and most of all real, both on the inside and out. you know i never was shallow, i never cared about someone’s appearance as what held significance to me the most was the heart. if your heart was good and wholesome and filled with love. that is what matters and the only thing that should. so while you are gorgeous (don’t let that get to your head now), you had a golden soul that i fell for ever so intensely.

i guess that’s why i decided to be daring that day—our senior graduation. you may be confused on what i mean since nothing was out of the ordinary that day, well for you at least. for me it was a different story. you see i had decided to do something, something out of my comfort zone and i honestly don’t know what came over me to do it in the slightest. you know how i am, i never like to be put into an uncomfortable situation since i don’t know how to deal with them. my social awkwardness just gets the best of me, but in that spur of a tick, realizing this was a huge milestone in our lives that we were overcoming, a milestone that would release us into the real world, i mused there was no harm. i really didn’t have anything to lose, except you that is. i could lose you, but i guess i knew deep within my heart that was a slim possibility because nothing could tear us apart, not even stupid teenage feelings. so you could say i finally gained enough confidence after spending so much time with you to do something out of the ordinary—to be bold like you. to just confess the truth and not worry about the consequences after. to just speak my mind and not surrender to fear. you helped me get to that point and while it did take some time, i was happy with who i came to be. someone proud with who they are, even for split second and i knew i had to do it before i turned back into a coward—before it was too late.

i had the ideal moment planned prior to it happening. i was going to tell you after we finished taking our graduation photos. there wasn’t a better time than that, when we were trying to capture the last moments of our high school career together. taking pictures with those we grew closer to over the years, those that made everything a little more sane, a little more fun. so when we look back we can reminisce about those times, no matter how many ups and downs there were because we finally reached the end goal. we made it.

after searching for you amongst the growing crowd for several long minutes after we proceeded off the stage, i saw you come towards me first, with your blue gown flowing in the wind. you literally ran full speed ahead and when you were a few inches away, you crashed into me. i had stumbled from the impact, taking several steps back so we both wouldn’t fall, as my arms came to rest around your own. you maneuvered your arms around my chest to give me a bear hug, stripping the oxygen away from me. when you let go after being in my embrace for what felt like eternity, i could clearly see your face. you were in a great mood—a beam on your face, your cheeks flushed from the sun’s heat, your eyes wide open with stars that filled the void, and your skin left in a brilliant glow. happiness surrounded you and a grin made its way onto my face at how in your element you finally looked. i knew it was then or never again, for your encouraging grin left me weak, yet strong. the perfect moment. yet, no moment is perfect. no one moment ever seems perfect for me. it doesn’t work out because fate wasn’t on my side—nor would it be for a long time.

you must have wanted to tell me something too that fateful day, since i could feel your excitement in my own bones and spot it a mile away, as right when i was about to confess, right when i opened my mouth to say those three dreaded words, you cut me off. you told me you had news, exciting and life changing news. news that would shatter me and wither my confidence away till what was left was speck of dust. you told me you were leaving to go to the states. that was the first pain i felt in my body. your admission letter had come in the mail earlier that morning when you were about to leave the house, on your way to the graduation ceremony. you were too anxious when your father relayed the news that you had gotten mail as your foot was almost out the door. you couldn’t wait to open it as your eagerness didn’t allow you to, so when you were handed that one large envelope addressed with your name from your dream college, your hands didn’t stop from ripping it open.

you got in.

you got into harvard university, the one college you told me since sophomore year that you wanted to go to, if it was the last thing you could do. i was so estatic for you, i was, because i knew how much the acceptance meant to you. you were working hard ever since you could talk and your passion was a huge part of that dedication to excelling in your academics. you deserved it more than anyone i knew, but my heart couldn’t help but crumble out of that exuberance.

you were rambling on about how thrilled you were and what you would do at college, all the classes you would take, the extracurricular activities, how you would have your own dorm or apartment and decorate it the way you wished. you just looked exactly how you did that day i took you out on a picnic to watch the sunset on that hill that overlooked the town—without a care in the world and so very content. so i couldn’t confess now, when you were going places, the places you dreamed of and when your life would take off for the better. you were just getting started, yet i couldn’t say what i so desperately wanted to say when you simply told me you were leaving, and so soon at that. i didn’t want to hold you back and i just know you are telling me i wouldn’t have, but i know the truth as do you. you would have stayed behind because you care too enormously with your heart to ever let me go, to ever have me sorrowful. so i didn’t say anything when you backtracked and asked me what i wanted to say before you spilled the news. i was thinking more with my head rather than my heart at that juncture. you gazing at me with your star-filled eyes and dazzling smile, i couldn’t do it, no matter how much energy coursed through my veins. i kept my mouth shut and told you it was nothing. you accepted the excuse though i know you knew it was a lie. we could always tell when the other lied and i was just glad you believed it at that point. i held back my feelings and my wants for your feelings and wants—for your needs. your life, your wishes, and your desires always meant more to me than my own. so we took those graduation photos and laughed with the rest of our friends. we were joyful then even if the future remained imbalanced and unsure.

you left later that month since you had to settle into a new country, a new state, a new culture, and a new life. in that time it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t spend every minute side by side and we did since you wanted to cherish our time together—our last time together. you would be on one end of the world and i would be on the other, thousands of miles separating us and a wide expanding sea. it was surreal and it still is. so we treasured all of it, even the little moments of going to each other’s houses in the wee hours of the morning to just watch the sunrise or late at night to watch the stars, to go get ice-cream when we felt like it, to watch movies in your bedroom with the lights down low—to just bask in each other’s presence. we made even more memories, granted that we had plenty to go around. those last weeks with you were the best of my life, even if it felt like nothing was changing, even if it was our normal routine before the shift. even so it still made me fall deeper as i saw your true colors in an even brighter light as if i never truly saw you before. there was so much about you that just made me curious even if i knew every part of you, every aspect of your being, from the simple things like your favorite color to your hatred for pineapple on pizza, and to the deep things like your fear of being forgotten or not being good enough. even if i knew so much, there was still more to unravel and discover as you were so complex. there isn’t another person like you in the world. there can’t be since you are one of a kind. they may have your face or outward appearance, but they can’t have your fair heart or pure soul.

i shouldn’t have been dazed that these emotions i had for you would solely blossom beyond belief. i couldn’t protest either because i knew they would grow more fervent since it is so hard to control myself around you. i sound like a giddy schoolboy, but with you i can’t help but let everything run wild and free. i put my entire heart and being out onto a silver platter just for you and i knew you would only ever take good care of it. after all if anything they would be yours to either tear or mend.

so when that dreadful day arrived i wasn’t ready for the whirlwind of storm to be released and let loose. you were leaving and wouldn’t come back.

i had been in the car with you that day as well as with your parents since they were flying over with you in order to help you maneuver around a new territory and get you settled in before the start of your semester. i couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you before so i tagged along. we all strolled up to the gate and your parents passed through, leaving you with me so we could have some privacy to say everything we needed to say. albeit there weren't enough words in the world to tell you how i felt at that stage, enough words for the both of us. therefore, we let our actions speak louder. you latched onto me, putting your arms around my neck and hugged me so closed till i was sure there was no room between our bodies in that suffocating airport.

you know you told me a hundred times, maybe even a thousand times during those last weeks before you left, how much you loved me. how much i meant to you and how much you cared for me. i don’t even think the amount of times i heard that from other people could compare to how many times you said it. while they may have meant it, i know you truly did and that was the deepest sorrow to know, which broke me a little further. regardless, i did tell you them right back, how could i not when it was you? i told you those three words and eight letters every time in response, twenty-four hours and seven days a week, but when you said them there, in the midst of the crowd in the airport, it felt different. it felt more meaningful, like there was an underlying tone i couldn’t decipher and it broke me the furthest i could go.

tears came from me and you, flowing between our clashed bodies. they made their way down your face and stained my own, out of jubilation and utter devastation. when you said it in between your sobs, repeating the words like a mantra against my neck and pulled me in even closer, i told you those words back. i whispered them against your temple, kissing the side of your head every time i repeated them and i meant them with all my heart because i truly did love you, so much, just in a way you didn’t love me, and never could.

i was sure i couldn’t recover from your departure once i saw you walk through those gates and let go of me. i wondered if i could ever hold you back again like i did at that moment. it felt like a part of me was being left behind. we were two halves of a whole and with you going, there would always be a missing puzzle piece. a piece of me would always be incomplete and i didn’t know how to feel, nor do i now. there is a hole in my chest of where you belong and i think there always will be until we connect in person again.

looking back i still smile at that memory—at all our recollections together. the woeful ones and the euphoric ones because they help me burden the pain, the heartbreak at your withdrawal from my life. it may sound dramatic considering we are still part of each other’s lives, just not in the way we were before. for distance separates us and threatens to split us apart.

you may think it doesn’t, but we both know the actuality. distance is the cause of these things—friendships, relationships, and love breaking beyond a point that is impossible to fix. where all those things are left in the dust and are fragments of what once was. now distance endangers our own foundations, our own very little things, so it’s illogical not to think about how it might destroy us. i never was a pessimistic person, but now being miles away from you, it’s hard not to think this way. i try to block it out. i try so hard, but sometimes i can’t help but allow negativity to take over, for without you here to shed light, the darkness swallows me whole.

i already know how you look reading this letter, in fact i knew from the very start what it would result in. i knew your emotions would get the best of you as they overwhelm you and you can’t hold them in like you desire to. maybe it happened from the very start or maybe it started now, but i want you to stop the tears that are already cascading down your face. don’t cry reading this. this piece of paper is not worth your tears, even if you think the opposite way and maybe those words i just wrote don’t mean anything because you are already sobbing, but stop them before they consume you. i am not worthy of those tears nor is it my intention to ever make you weep.

you know you always said you couldn’t cry, your body wouldn’t let you wail even if you begged it to. you told me that the day your grandmother died and you came over to me after the funeral. you told me no matter how glum you were and how much pain you felt, you couldn’t mourn for your grandmother. that you pushed your body to release tears but it wouldn’t so you looked unmoving and without emotion during the service. while that may have been the truth just that once, i knew well enough that was a lie. you were numb to feeling since you lost someone, but you body did want to grieve since you were just holding yourself back from looking weak. nonetheless you never are so-called frail because you are the toughest person i know and tears don’t dictate that strength regardless.

so in the deepest part of your room, at the latest times of the night when you thought no one was looking or knew, you cried your heart out. you whimpered too often and i was able to tell even if i never voiced it, but somehow you knew that i knew and you were okay with it. you were okay with letting me know you were and are human. so every time when you would cry i told you that you were too beautiful for it, in order to give you a piece of how i saw you in my head. to allow you to understand it was okay and normal above all. even now, though i can’t see your tear stricken face, you are stunning. so don’t bawl, but rather smile for me.

good.

your smile was always one of my favorite characteristics of yours. the most blinding beam that could light up a room and make anyone forget their worries.

you know even if it may seem gloomy, blame the mood in which this letter took a turn, i still am grateful we keep in contact even if you are so many miles away, because that’s the only thing i ever wanted, to keep in touch with you—to remain best friends. a factor that we still are…(for now).

so yes, it may be six months since i last saw you face-to-face, six months since you left, six months since we managed to stay in contact, but i can just feel you slipping away, becoming someone without me by your side through it all. yes, i know you and i are still who we are since those months ago, since sophomore year, but it’s just something that i can’t help but feel.

in fact i already sense it, it is near, but yet far. you know how i know? when we were on call the other day. it was last wednesday i believe and we were chatting about how our day went, the usual things in our routine, that is until you casually mentioned someone asked you out on a date last week. the mere fact that you didn’t tell me the day of or the day after it happened hurt more than your following words, albeit they equally packed a punch. you told me it was that one boy from your history of psychology class, the boy you did countless assignments with before, the boy you befriended nearly the first day your classes started. the boy i felt would take my spot from your life, if not as your lover, then as your best friend. i forgot his name, but i recollect you said he had that incorrupt look on his face that you perceived him to be pure the first day you laid eyes on him, although after learning more about him, he was far from being innocent. you told me in explicit detail what he looked like and the personality he had. i recall bits and pieces, even if i desperately tried to forget. delicate hands, an artistic gift, a slightly short stature, a cute grin, and a savage attitude to contradict the façade. exactly like you, exactly like the day i met you with your sharp tongue and doe eyes in the library, the complete opposite of each other. while i know i reach far in many regards calling him a soon to be lover or best friend, he still has potential even if he may not have any of those labels. i know he might not be the one—the one you’ll end up marrying in a few years down the road when you have a doctor’s degree in one hand and a ring on the other, but he might as well be. he might as well be that man because the future is unimaginable to foretell, but he can still be that shell of someone you want, he can still fill the void until the time comes. so yes, he very much will have your heart for a while, if you deem him worthy enough, if you pursue him the way he wants to pursue you. the way you were talking about him with your tone and the smile i could hear it in your voice gave it away. i knew something was there and you would give it a shot. he might be one of many before you find the ideal one over the years and he very well might be the one, but even if he was not, he would be your first in more ways than i was. he’ll be someone i wish i could have been. someone i wish would allow me to shoot my shot, but i didn’t since with all my talk i still, deep down, was a coward.

you can’t say i am wrong anyways since sometime, someday, some when it will happen. however, what still remains, in this bit, right now, as you read, is that we are still y/n and mark. mark and y/n. we are still us, but why does it feel like we aren’t at the same time?

it’s a deep question i must admit, it is what keeps me up some nights as i search for the answer and ponder for the meaning. i still don’t know the full answer, but i know enough. we are growing up. we are growing up y/n. we aren’t 15 anymore. we aren’t those sophomore kids that had no idea what the real world had in store and were gullible in every way, shape, and form. we simply aren’t high schoolers who only cared about our grades or appearance or the plans we had after school. we aren’t those kids. we are slowly becoming adults. we are slowing steering away from our teenage years and in that comes this question of self-identity.

who are we?

that is what we are trying to look for. we are finding who we are through everything we do—through our daily lives. we are finding ourselves…without the other. we have been so close for so long and grew into that space in an unhealthy amount of time. we grew accustomed to each other’s presence so now it is almost unbearable being apart for so long. we became so attached we don’t know what to do with ourselves and it’s the cold hard reality. it’s the truth that we don’t know ourselves individually, only together and that’s why it hurts more than ever that we have to be led astray, sometime soon. to know that soon enough that time will come. to know that yes, we still contact each other every day, we still have our weekly face times or calls and what you deem our “online friend dates” during the weekends, but as often as they are, they will change. we will no longer have the time to do that as college gets crazier for both of us, as we become more involved in a college life full of parties, friends, clubs, and whatever else it may be as we move out of being freshmen and get closer to our real life careers. you and i will know when that happens as our calls will become less frequent, our check-ins almost nonexistent with the other being left in the dust for days to weeks to months on end. we merely won’t be in contact anymore and i am sorry when that comes, my love. we’ll forget each other, its expected especially as we grow older, as we date, as we find love, as we befriend new people, as we move in the direction we are meant to be going and with that the worst part follows because i know sooner or later we will have to let each other go, if we don’t neglect. we can’t hold each other back and we will dwindle to a memory of what once was, of a simpler time before. i will be the forgotten one, the one in the background of your most prominent memories, someone you can’t help but look back on.

although we aren’t there yet, but we will be.

soon.

even if at this point you hate how many times i have written that word and so do i, but don’t you dare take the high road since we all know at some point all marvelous friendships die for an unexplainable reason or reasons. ours would just have to be because of life. that’s what makes life well...life. it is all part of the journey, the road to an unforeseeable future, but there can still be hope, it doesn’t just diminish like a candle flame put out by a gust of wind. no, hope still exists, you just have to grasp it when it comes around.

if. i always hated the word if, but if it’s meant to be then we will find each other, we will come around full circle at some point. have hope for both of us when i have none.

still, when you get this, it may be too late. maybe you will have unremembered about me in the seconds of time in between the unwavering silence. only then would we have both moved on, since there is no point in reaching out for something that isn’t worth saving when it all faded away before. only then will i be just a memory and reading this will spark those thought of i knew him once before during a ephemeral moment in my life when i was a teen in high school rather than a college student, but i know i am not late.

it is one thing i am sure of.

until then, until that foreboding time arrives i’ll hold dear what we have. i will try to preserve this friendship for both of our sakes until it’s time to say goodbye or more accurately a see you later if you want to be hopeful.

whenever that may be.

i know you hate goodbyes more than anything, the word itself rattles in your bones. so y/n, see you soon, in person—someday if it’s what’s right.

it has to be right doesn’t it?

fate has to be on our side because it knows us, it knows that there isn’t me without you and there isn’t you without me. when that time arrives of us seeing each other or withering away like every flower does at the end of its life, i hope, i pray that you won’t forget me as i most certainly won’t forget you.

so just call to mind in everything you do, in everything you say, dwell on the time before college—of a time when you were a child, someone lost, someone finding themselves and in it all remember there was someone who loved you before. someone who loved you at your worst as well as at your best, before you became who you were truly meant to be, and he loved you with all his heart.

he promises he always will.

that he is me.

i love you, y/n l/n. always and forever.

never forget it.

yours truly,

mark lee  

on march 16th, 20XX at approximately 8:02pm mark lee sealed his letter to y/n and put it in his coat pocket. on march 17th, 20XX at approximately 10:32am mark lee made his way to the postal office to drop off his letter and at 10:36am the letter dropped into the box on its way to the united states. on march 20th at approximately 11:42am mark lee’s letter arrived at the massachuesetts postal office and was separated upon arrival to be delivered sometime within the week. on march 22nd at 2:07pm, mark lee’s letter arrived at y/n’s apartment complex and was dropped in the inboxes of the residents. on march 24th at approximately 7:02am y/n went to pick up the mail, but what wasn’t in the pile was the letter from mark lee. sometime between when the letter arrived in the states to the mailman driving to the complex, his letter had gotten lost. the truck’s windows were open and mark lee’s letter was at the top of the pile when the truck was parked. an unsettling breeze was felt against the mailman’s face as he gripped the entire pile of mail, though mere seconds before the letter was picked up by the wind and whooshed onto the ground several feet away. the mailman did not take note and continued on, not noticing something was missing. y/n never received mark lee’s letter and neither of them would have known how things would have ended up differently if she had. for from that point on they would be a fading memory to each other and their friendship would wane away. y/n would begin to forget the calls with mark. mark would no longer reach out after months of silence from both parties. y/n would date the boy she told mark about, his name was huang renjun and they would fall in love, but mark would never know his name or know what came to be. they would become strangers and not best friends. lost to the tragic distance that separated them across the sea. if only y/n received the letter. if only mark lee confessed. if only he had know y/n felt the same. if only their friendship hadn’t evanescenced into nonexistence…like all unrequited love stories do.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x15: Gimme Shelter

Then:

Dean used his words to save the world once

Now:

At a food bank community center, three teens dole out food while stressing out about one attendant who’s breaking their cleanliness rules. Connor heads over to talk to the woman, but is stopped by the center’s pastor. The pastor challenges Connor’s motivation. ”We have rules, but we also have spirit too, right?” The pastor tells Connor to lead with compassion, so Connor brings the woman food instead of kicking her out of the building. 

Later, Connor walks home. Much like all other cold open walks, this one also involves a solitary alley. He hears someone calling his name. Trying to find the source of the voice, he trips and finds a talking teddy bear, and a metal hook around his neck.

Dean and Sam discuss research. Sam’s found a non-case, while Dean’s hit the jackpot in Atlantic City. Specifically, an unexplained blackout has him thinking that Amara’s enjoying her new gambling addiction on the East Coast. 

Cas pops up and thinks he should go with the brothers, but they tell him to stay put and babysit Jack. I say TFW is just better together, but I’m not writing this episode. Hrmph. The brothers are packed and ready to go, but Jack stops them in the war room to ask about the case Sam found.

Sam tells him it’s nothing. Dean encourages Cas and Jack to investigate --to keep Jack busy. Cas seems skeptical, but Dean insists.

Agents Swift and Lovato meet with the local law enforcement to learn more about the case. Sweet Jesus is it cute that Cas continues to use pop-star names. It’s cute that Jack takes after his father with the upside down badge. It’s cute that Jack recognizes the teddy bear and says he has one (Did Cas buy it for him? He has a history of buying stuffed animals for his quasi-children.) 

The sheriff tells them about the victim, and how the word ‘Liar’ was carved into him. 

Jack posits that this all seems demonic. 

Cut to Cas digging into the ground at a crossroads. Time to get some information. Cas buries a picture of himself that Dean took when he was wearing a cowboy hat (Don’t worry, Dean still has his copy, and keeps it safe…. for reasons.) and Jack sets up a social media account. He’s WAY under 13 years old, so he needs a parent’s permission. Cas grants it easily. (Also, ALSO!! ALSO, there are NOT too many cats on the internet. This writing is so OOC, smh.) 

A demon appears. 

He’s channeling his inner Crowley, and I suddenly miss the bugger for a moment. Zach, the demon, is very bored and desperately wants something to do. He’s not really British and tells the duo that no one's making demon deals right now. Rowena’s of the philosophy that “people will end up where they belong.” Cas realizes their mistake and moves to leave.  “Sam was right, it’s not a monster,” Jack laments. “He was half right. Sometimes humans can be the worst kind of monsters,” Cas adds. 

At the community center, a woman locks up, and grabs a whole lotta cash from the donation box before she bails. Once outside, she hears a voice call her name. She looks around but sees nothing. She turns back to her car to find a masked individual. A weird editing choice cuts back to her...and commercial. 

Cas checks in with the brothers. Dean tells Cas to be wary of those “Hallelujah types” and I’m like, wha? Cas is an ANGEL OF THE LORD. He’s been around the block, Dean. Lol for looking out for your BFF, tho. Also, second awkward moment of the episode when Dean just hangs up on Cas? I’m…

Sam voices his reservations about the whole finding Amara --lying to Amara --killing Amara plan. Say it louder for the brother in the seat next to you, Sam! 

(Boris: I’m just going to insert this in the middle of this recap and never mention it again. Can we trust Billie? Is her plan actually something that is GOOD for our TFW 2.0? What is her agenda and does it align with what we want? What if what SHE wants is as equally bad as what Chuck wants? What if we as an audience are getting played right now??) (Natasha: What if the strings she’s pulling are emotional and she’s playing a dangerous game of chicken with Dean’s rage and Chuck’s entitlement?)

Jack joins the community center. He watches Dr. Sexy the pastor in a prayer circle, and talks to a disillusioned young woman who asks him to fill out a form before walking away. 

Cas walks in separately and wanders over to Dr. Sexy the pastor praying with a parishioner, and tells him about the cash stealing Valerie. She never made it home. 

Cut to Valerie tied and gagged. Her hands are in an elaborate guillotine. She wakes. Her screams are muffled. A TV turns on and flashes the word ‘Thief’. And one of her fingers gets chopped off. A timer starts on the TV. AND WE ALL RECOIL. 

Jack finishes the paperwork and tries to talk to the girls working the food line. The one girl storms off, upset. Jack follows her and tells her that he didn’t mean to upset her. 

She tells him that Connor and her dated. Well, they watched a lot of old movies together.  (AHEM! AHEM! AHEM! “I’m your Huckleberry.” AHEM. Please stop the clowning, it hurts so much.) 

Jack confesses to the girl that he lost his mother. The girl tells Jack that her mom died three years ago, and now it’s just her and her emotionally unavailable father, the pastor. “I have more dads than most, and I’m always just feeling like I’m letting all of them down.” JACK!!!! The girl tells Jack to trust God, not people. 

And we laugh, and laugh, and, guh, laugh. 

Cas, meanwhile, meets with Dr. Sexy the pastor. 

Cas interrogates Dr. Sexy Pastor about whether anyone else has gone missing recently. Well, there was one guy who used to work for the “faith-based community” but they parted ways. Cas and the pastor enjoy a little god talk. Cas, the weary angel, opines that God just doesn’t care. The pastor has a different take on faith - it’s about the people of his church doing what they can to take care of each other. We learn that this church recently changed from a fundamentalist branch to something more welcoming. Connor was able to come out as gay due to the changes, so some good happened. (Hindsight thoughts: this makes his death and the “Liar” all the more awful.) “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying,” the pastor concludes...and if that ain’t the truth about Cas!

Sam and Dean are on the too-slow train to Atlantic City when Amara drops in during a gas stop and invites them out for pierogi. 

At Patchwork, the pastor asks Jack to share his journey of faith during a prayer circle. Jack falters, and Cas steps in. “I do know what blind faith is. I used to just follow orders. Without question. And I did some pretty terrible things. I would never look beyond the plan. Then, of course, when it all came crashing down I found myself lost. I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. And then one day something changed. Something amazing. I guess I found a family. And I became a father. And in that, I rediscovered my faith. I rediscovered who I am.” BRB crying!

Later in the cafeteria, Jack asks Sexy Pastor, M.D. how he brought together so many people with different ideas of religion. “It’s not about what they believe. It’s what they do,” he reiterates. (I imagine, for a moment, an ending where Jack calls out to the whole world and all living creatures and Heaven and Hell unite to win the final confrontation and make a better world together.)

The tranquil moment is interrupted by the TV turning on to security feed footage of the victim. The timer runs out and she loses another finger and screams and screams. Jack rushes over to the TV and pulls out a USB stick from the back.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters dine with Amara.

They bring up Chuck’s destruction of the other universes and tell her they have a plan to stop him. They’ve got a nephilim on their side AND he’s super powerful. All they need is for Amara to help them trap Chuck and...WHAMMO. Amara gently refuses to betray her brother. She lays some new mythology on them. She and Chuck are twins - creation and destruction - and their splitting apart first brought life into the world. 

Cas and Jack barge into the church’s ex-AV tech’s room. And by that, I mean, Jack gets hurled through another door? Um. Okay. The part of me that grew up with 3 Stooges is HERE FOR IT, tbh. 

They discover the guy is dead, chained up in bed with cuffs, with the word “lust” painted above him.

Getting ready to leave town, Sam’s ready to accept Amara’s choice. Dean “Fuck Acceptance” Winchester heads back inside and corners Amara. He asks why she brought back Mary. 

Amara tells him that she wanted him to see that the apple pie dream life he’s always striving for isn’t real - that Mary was only human - and BETTER because of that. Amara thought that would help him to accept his life. Amara also thought that having Mary back would release Dean from his anger. 

He leans forward and lets her know that he’s furious. Everyone in this universe is trapped, he tells her - including her. And she’s doing nothing. Amara falters in the face of this, and then asks him if she can trust him. “I would never hurt you,” he LIES TO HER FACE. She tells him she’ll think about it.

That evening Sylvia, the pastor’s daughter, listens to her friend gush over the social media attention she’s getting after posting about the torture video. In a flash of rage, Sylvia stabs her friend and races away. Dr. Sexy Pastor finds the current (still alive) victim just as Sylvia catches up to him. She accuses him of laughing at her mother after her mother died from trying to heal by prayer rather than medical science. She accuses him of changing the church that her mother grew up in. Jack jumps into the fray and gets stabbed for his trouble. When Cas arrives, Sylvia is quickly subdued by his Vulcan forehead tap of slumber.

Cas yanks away the restraints from the victim (SOOOO strong) and then heals her fingers back on while the pastor looks on in wonder. 

For So Strong Science:

Later, they gather outside while Sylvia gets taken away in cuffs. The pastor still cares about his daughter and vows to get her help. The driver of the car is Zach the crossroads demon? Oookay. 

Cas and Jack drive home. In the truck of feelings, Cas asks Jack why he couldn’t share during the prayer circle. Jack confesses that he’s been lying. The spell Billie is doing with him is turning him into a bomb to be used against Chuck and Amara. It’ll work - they’ll cease to exist. But Jack will be obliterated too. “This is the only way they’ll ever forgive me,” he tells Cas. 

Cas is horrified. He can’t watch Jack die again! Cas refuses to watch Jack die again, but Jack seems to have fully embraced this as his necessary fate.

Back at the bunker, Dean heads for the whiskey bottle late at night when he spots Cas shuffling towards the exit. Jack’s settled in his room, Cas reports. Cas then tells Dean he’s going to look for “another way.” 

Oh AND, “In case something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, there’s something you and Sam need to know…” 

FADE. TO. BLACK.  

The Se7en Deadly Quotes:

You guys go Highway to Heaven that bitch

You look greener than Baby Yoda

“Did anyone find any tiny bags with chicken bones inside?” “Did anyone smell sulfur?” “Did anyone feel cold?”

There were too many cats

Where can I find the Kool-Aid?

I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person

It was a gift, Dean. Not a trial

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!