#then i wasn't planning on sending the poem to her

[tigresslovescolors]

she liked the poem i wrote for her!!! (im still not over her)

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : med student!abby anderson x liberal arts student!reader ᥫ᭡

content: wlw relationship. modern college au. ramblings of fluff, maybe a touch of angst but nothing heavy. enjoy <3

a/n: my authority for writing this you ask? i'm an english major who gets asked regularly what i am going to do with my degree! also this is my first time writing about abby i just had to get this idea out of my head and on to the screen.

-abby decided at a young age to follow in her father's footsteps and become a doctor as well. she committed herself to studying science and math as a kid and occasionally disregarded her other studies like music, art, and english. she did enough to keep a 4.0 GPA but her heart was in science tournaments, young medical professional groups, and ap bio.

-she got into one of the best schools in the states for medicine and was a stellar student in organic chemistry, anatomy, and neurology. she knew she was going to do great on her MCAT, but unfortunately, she wasn't doing so great in some of her gen ed classes and it was impacting her gpa.

-that was how she found herself in a tutoring center in one of the older buildings on campus that was shockingly different from the science buildings she spent all of her time in. she had an appointment with you, but was so nervous to go and admit that she was having trouble in something as simple as art history or literature or communication.

-when she sat down to have her appointment with you, you immediately calmed her nerves and assured her that there was nothing wrong with needing some help in classes she wasn't comfortable in. you helped her ace her quiz and then she just kept coming in to see you. over and over. until she eventually passed the class with an A and no longer needed your assistance.

-and then, as luck would have it, abby got her own job as a tutor for science courses and who happened to walk in but you! the tutor who helped her pass her own difficult course.

-it was history from there.

-despite abby's commitment to her education, she was always able to carve time out of her schedule to be with you. she loves studying with you and filling up a room in the library with your stuff to prepare for exams together. she takes a whiteboard and writes all of her notes on it while you're rereading historical texts or revising your final paper about a painting abby doesn't really quite understand.

-she never makes you feel less than for not studying something "more difficult" as people have before. she loves hearing about your passions for history or writing stories or creating art. she'll come with you to art galleries and try to input her own thoughts from time to time about what she thinks certain pieces mean.

-she understands that graduate school applications are just as important to you as medical school applications are for her. you'll do practice interviews with each other and try on outfits for each other.

-abby will not stand for someone making fun of you for your choice of studies. you two once went to a family gathering on abby's side and when some of her family members began interrogating you on how you're going to get a job and even imply that you'll be living off of abby for your whole life, she gets all up in their face and comforts you later! you will not be sending birthday wishes to those family members anymore and she can guarantee that.

-if you guys get accepted in to schools that are long-distance from each other, you'll absolutely make it work. abby is so methodical that she'll never forget to text you and plans out times that either of you can visit.

-if you ever dedicate a piece that you've created in school to her, she'll positively swoon. like if you wrote a poem about her, she would print it out and pin it up on the fridge. if you painted her, she would hang it up on the wall. and she's the best model for those things too

-i imagine that dinners with your colleagues or friends are very random. abby has but a few friends in her residency and they're each as professional as her. you, however, come with a group of lively people who are discussing philosophical ideas or debating about a piece of art history and how its influenced modern culture. it would be an interesting combination to say the least.

-abby would just be so interested in anything you have to do and would never be critical of your choices. she sees the passion you have for things that lie far outside her field and appreciates it. your future apartment that you build years after meeting when you are each established in your dream careers is a mesh of medical textbooks and flashcards and models but also messy journals and thrifted antiques and poems written on sticky notes for her to find.

[retroellie]

Dating Spencer Reid

Summary: What dating spencer Reid is like

A/N: I wrote this super-fast because I know I haven't really been active... so I wanted to write something quick for y'all! I miss y'all and I hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: Some NSFW moments

Word count: 1.5K

-Spencer grew up on Victorian romance novels and old valentines' poems, so he was quite the hopeless romantic

-When Spencer wasn't solving theories and getting PHDs, he was dreaming of a beautiful romance. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that he isn't the most confident boyfriend, but he makes up for it in his own way!

-Y'alls first date was something straight out of a movie! I mean it was a bouquet of flowers, an expensive dinner followed by a movie theater that played only old 50's films.

-It was the kind of date that had you falling in love with him first thing, knowing that this boy was the person you see yourself coming home to every night.

-After the date, Spencer offered you his jacket and walked you home. It was a chilly night, the streets lit up from the moonlight. He rambled on and on about the movie, but you couldn't even focus on what he was saying because you were too distracted by him.

-What you fell more in love with was the fact he didn't expect you to even kiss him!

-He was more than okay to say your "goodbyes" and "see you later" than leave.... but you gave him a soft peck before heading into your apartment. Even throughout the darkness you could see his blush.

-Anyways, that date led to a beautiful love story between y'all

-Spencer was a romantic even in the littlest of ways, like sending flowers to your work randomly or leaving you small poems in your fridge before he leaves so it feels as though he never really leaves.

-Spencer would always make sure to call you every night when he was away for work... I mean EVERY night.

-"Spencer honey it's 3am here..."

-"I know! But I just wanted to call you, should I call back in the morning?"

-"No, I'm already up and well I miss hearing your voice anyways." You laughed softly.

-The start of your relationship was so innocent, there was no sex or jealousy... it was just so simple and romantic

-There was lots of making out though, something that surprisingly Spencer was the one to initiate every time.

-There were just lots of times when you two would be discussing a book that Spencer probably recommended to you, then all of a sudden, his tongue would be down your throat.

-He was getting used to hugs and the touching, but kissing was something that felt so natural when he did it with you.

-Speaking of books! He had a list of books he recommended to you, like books that you never thought you'd read but you're glad you did yk?

-You would finish a book in one sitting and call him immediately to talk about it

-In turn though, you would bring him into the modern era and show him newer movies and music. Most of the stuff he did not like, but he pretended to like it to be nice.

-The first couple of months of your relationship, the team had no idea you existed. They started to notice spencer being in a lot better mood, but nothing too alarming.

-However, Derek Morgan is a lady killer... so he caught on a lot faster than the others.

-Like one time, the whole team was going out for drinks and Spencer said he had plans... Derek caught him in a lie real fast

-"So, who's the lucky lady?"

-"What?"

-"Pretty boy...I don't need to be a profiler to figure out why your suddenly so "busy.""

-Because of Morgan prying, Spencer decided to invite you out with the team one night.

-The team was all pretty nice, but very confused on why someone like you would want someone like spencer?? You two were completely different from each other... like night and day damn near

-Besides your differences, the team fell in love with you probably harder than Spencer did. I mean Penelope basically adopted you by the end of the night... she did however do her background checking before meeting you, but we don't gotta talk about that.

-The meeting of the team made the relationship real, like now you had become a part of their small family, and they trusted you enough to take care of spencer

-Spencer also felt this was a huge step, like now that his family accepted you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you

-Spencer would always bring you up when he got the chance now, putting a framed picture of you and him on his desk just so people would ask about you.

-"Oh, who's this?" Someone would ask.

-"That's my girlfriend, Y/N. We've been dating for 11 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days. She's a (profession) and she smells like lavender."

-Like girl, all they asked was who you were... not every detail of your existence.

-But now that you guys are now officially dating, and everyone knows it... there's some newfound jealousy

-Spencer knew that you were attractive, but sometimes he forgets that you are also attractive to others as well

-Sometimes when you come into the FBI office, he sees other men staring you down... probably wondering how a nerdy boy like him could get someone like you.

-Spencer getting jealous is quiet and polite. He doesn't get angry or upset, we all know he does not do good with emotions. So, he'll just keep his distance from you, accepting the fact that you could leave him at any moment and not wanting to feel the effects of it.

-He will go silent for days if you didn't ask him about it, not even sure what he was feeling but knew he didn't like it.

-"Just didn't like how he was looking at you... made me feel weird."

-"You're jealous?"

-"I guess... I don't know."

-You just laughed it off, telling him how you would never choose anyone over him even if there was a gun to your head.

-Spencer also remembers everything about everything so... he picks up on your favorite things and your little quirks, plus he never forgets an anniversary!

-Derek bullies the shit out of him, like omfg

-he'll always call you his mommy and make kissing sounds when you call him, loud enough for the entire office to hear.

-"Muah muah muah... Oh Y/N!!" Derek yells, making sure you heard him.

-"So let me guess... Dereks with you?"

-"How'd you know?"

-He actually doesn't use too many pet names, but you definitely do lmao. His name is literally "Spenice poo <3" on your phone.

-Eventually, Spencer asks you to move in with him and omfg!!! You are so excited, like jumping up and down excitedly.

-I feel like spencer would be so domestic too omfg

-He would play music while cleaning the house, but it would all be like Mozart and classical music. You would always grab him by the waist and start dancing with him, you both looked so stupid but at least it was together.

-He would ramble to you all the time and you were probably the only person in the world that would let him, honestly you enjoyed it too.

-Like you had just gotten out of the shower, Spencer barged in and started talking about a case. He sat on the toilet seat while you did your skin care, just rambling on and on about how sick this person was.

-Yours and Spencer's different aesthetics clashed a lot in the house, like Spencer's apartment was slowly being taken over by you and your stuff... but he didn't mind.

-Since you guys have decided to take your relationship to another big step... Spencer decided he wanted you to pop his cherry.

-Spencer wasn't too experienced and he's never really had sex before. He's done stuff with someone, but never the actual act of it.

-He wanted to do it way before, but he thought it would complicate everything and honestly, he wasn't completely ready for it yet.

-You made sure it was the perfect night, you had it planned out. You took him on a picnic, watching the sunset as you loosened him up a little bit, making sure he was comfortable before setting yourself down on his lap.

-You were so soft with him; I mean you were afraid you might break him. He had to beg for you at one point because you weren't going fast enough.

-The next morning, he had to go into work, something about him was different... his confidence boosted a bit. Derek could sense it from a mile away, making sure Spencer knew that he knew.

-The popping of his cherry had created something inside spencer, he found his favorite thing to do, and he wanted it at all times

-You obviously were glad to give him whatever his little heart desired, so you let him fuck you anytime he wanted. Sometimes it even got a little filthy... something you would have never guessed about spencer.

-My bad I got sidetracked... but spencer was also way touchier with you

-Spencer was never really touchy in public, but now it's all he ever did. If you were in the room with him, then his attention would be completely on you.

-He really just felt so safe with you, knowing that you gave him not only your body but also your mind... he just wanted you, period. 

[cyripticchronicler]

Prank Wars - Sirius Black

Your relationship with Sirius only exists because of the stupid pranks you pull on each other. What happens if you want more?

A/N: I feel like I haven't posted in foreverrr I'm so sorry, schools started up again and I'm busy writing my book but I'm going to try to post more. Also, I was listening to Fearless (Taylor's Version) during this and I didn't know what to write at the end so her lyrics are in there. Did that make sense? Okay enjoy my lovelies and PLEASE send in requests.

Warnings: One swear word, kissing,

Masterlist

You and Sirius have always been known for your mischievous antics at Hogwarts. It started with innocent pranks played on each other, like Sirius turning your quill into a dancing snake during potions, causing you to retaliate by cursing his broom and making him turn in circles during Quidditch practice. 

After each prank the stakes get higher, but so does your infatuation with Sirius Black. You’d never admit it but you like holding Sirius’ attention, knowing that he's thinking of you, even if it's because he’s planning another prank. 

The prank war helps you express your feelings to Sirius without admitting them, even if it increases your heart rate by tenfold, you enjoy the war. 

All of Hogwarts has started to notice the pranks, thanks to your latest prank where you spiked his pumpkin juice, leaving him walking around the school with bright orange hair for a week. The evil glare he sent you from across the table has a smile painting your face even now, a week later. 

You’ve kept your eyes sharp all week, heavily inspecting your food before you eat it and taking extra caution when turning corners. But so far, nothing happened. You’re not sure if you should be worried or happy. Was your last prank too much? Is he done pranking you? Was that it? 

Your mind races with ideas on why he hasn't retaliated yet, your lip caught between your teeth as you go from class to class. 

He doesn't seem mad at you if the small smirks and stolen glances he gives you during class are any indication. But that just leaves you more stressed. How big is his prank going to be?

Groaning at your thoughts, you run a hand through your hair and slump against the nearest wall, eyes falling shut against your own will. Turns out that constantly being overly cautious is exhausting. 

“Hey, sweetheart!” You nearly jump out of your skin, head whipping around to face the boy you haven't stopped thinking about in months. 

“What do you want, Sirius?” You question, hand on your hip, you watch as he comes closer. 

“Just wanted to give you something,” He pauses in front of you, hand reaching out into his trouser pocket to retrieve a small parchment. Your eyes cautiously eye the paper, you don't see anything suspicious but you take a step back just to be sure.  

Sirius laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I just thought it would help you.” In the end, curiosity takes over and you snatch the parchment out of his hand, hands outstretched, away from your face as you open it. 

You scoff at the words written in black ink, “Prank suggestions?” He grins cheekily, “Thought it would help you, you know since your other pranks haven't been the best.”

“Is that a hint of orange in your hair?” You question mockingly. His smile falters. Grinning in triumph, you pull out your wand - in which Sirius takes a step back- and spell the parchment, prank suggestions turning into a ‘self-writing’ parchment that composes embarrassing love poems to him. 

He grins as you hand it back to him, eyes tracking the words as they turn into another poem. “Thank you, I love it.” He goes to walk away, “I’d keep your eyes peeled, sweetheart. You don’t know what’s coming.”

You hide my nervousness with a smirk, your heart finally slowing down as he leaves. You ignore the longing in your heart because there's no way you’d ever actually date Sirius Black. 

—

Sirius’ “big prank” doesn't come till Friday and, thankfully, it wasn't that bad. But, Merlin it was annoying. At first, you figured it was a problem with the school itself, not that it was enchanted. But after the stairs lead you to another unfamiliar room, you knew Sirius Black had a hand in this. You were late to potions, earning a detention. On your way to detention, you stupidly forgot about the enchanted staircase, causing you to be late to detention, for which you received another two. You made sure to send Sirius your most ruthless glares, which he smiled back. 

It didn't take long for you to come up with a prank, with the help of peeves you managed to cover all of Sirius’ things in glitter, enchanting it so he couldn't use a spell to clean it. 

The next morning Sirius showed up to Transfiguration with pink glitter all over his uniform, causing you to smile. 

“Glitter? Really?” He questioned, face pinched in annoyance as he took a seat next to you. Your heart beats heavily in your chest. Why is he sitting with you?

“Why are you sitting with me?” You blurt, hand hurrying to cover your mouth. 

He leans in closer, eyes shining with amusement. “You don't want me to sit with you, Sweetheart?”

“I-I never said that,” You laugh awkwardly. Attempting to regain your composure, you hand him the parchment you wrote last night. 

He takes it, brows raised in question. Hesitantly, he opens the parchment, barking out a laugh at the contents. “I believe I already gave this to you, Sweetheart.” 

“I figured you needed it more than me,” You smile sweetly, looking down at the parchment in his hands where you wrote down some prank suggestions. 

“Thank you, but I don’t need your suggestions.” He turns to the board, writing down the important information. You do the same, mumbling a quiet ‘if you say so.’ 

—

You’re halfway through transfiguration when it happens. Mouth open in shock as you stare at the pile of rainbow confetti covering your desk where your notes used to be, the floor and your hair are covered with the small plastic and you send Sirius your best glare. The mini explosion successfully gained everyone's attention, causing your cheeks to heat. 

“That’s it!’ Miss McGonagall states, “Both of you in the hall. Now!” She yells eyes fixated on Sirius and you. You both clamber out of your seats, rushing into the hall. As you’re leaving, James sticks his hand out for a high five which Sirius gladly complies, earning a shake of the head from Remus. 

“Confetti? In the middle of class? Seriously?” You attack Sirius as soon as the door shuts behind you, eyes narrowed and dreams of wiping that smug smirk off his face whirling through your mind. He opens his mouth to respond but slams it shut as Miss McGonagall comes clambering out into the hallway, eyes narrowed in anger. 

“This prank war has been going on all year! I am sick of it! I have told you countless times to keep your pranks outside of school! 50 points from both of you and detention for two weeks!”

You bite back a groan, you subtly shoot Sirius a glare which he frowns at. She leaves, making a point to shut the door behind her. Your head slumps against the wall behind you, eyes squeezed shut in annoyance. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispers. Your head shoots up, thinking your mind is playing tricks on you. He looks truly apologetic, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet your eyes. 

You sigh in defeat. “It’s okay, I think we’ve both been getting out of hand with the pranks.” He nods in agreement. 

“Does that mean we’re calling a truce?” He asks nervously and you shrug. You don't want the pranks, the only time you and Sirius talk, to end so you stand up taller, making sure to keep your voice straight. “No way.”

—

The pranks continue as normal, albeit a bit more tamed now that Miss McGonagall has gotten angrier. Just last week Sirius sent you a box of chocolates, under the guise of a secret admirer. The chocolates were charmed to make them burst into laughter or mimic animal sounds. In retaliation, you turned Sirius’ Quidditch robes into a bright pink tutu in the middle of a match. The whole school liked that one, leaving you smug for days. Until Sirius decided to get back at you by bewitching your bed to be filled with floating feathers when you lie down. It went on for weeks and when summer arrived you couldn't stop the disappointment from sinking in. Sirius pranked last and you figured you’d get him back after summer, when you’ve returned from your vacation in New Zealand. 

But he had other plans. 

It was the last day before summer break and you figured you’d get some reading before you had to go. So naturally, you went for your favourite book, one you’ve read probably a thousand times. 

Imagine your surprise when you went to grab the book and found yourself in the astronomy tower. You gasp in surprise, mind whirling with surprise. You spot Sirius in the corner, grin smug and eyes bright as he watches you panic. 

“You! What the fuck!”

Sirius laughs in response, fueling the flame of anger building up inside you. You stalk closer, chest heaving. “It’s not even your turn! I’m supposed to prank you-”

“I like you,” He blurts. Your heart sinks. “I wanted to tell you before you left. You don’t have to say anything I just couldn't hold it in any longer.” His voice feigns nervousness and you scoff in disbelief. How is this funny?

Hot tears well in your eyes and you wipe them away. “Real funny, Sirius.” You snark, turning away. 

He grips your arm in a panic, pulling you closer. “That’s all you have to say? I finally confess and you find it funny?” He laughs sarcastically. “Merlin, I can’t actually believe that I thought you would like me back, that I wasn't imagining the way you looked at me.”

You pause under the entrance of the tower, head slung in pain. “This isn’t funny, Sirius.”

“No, it’s not!” His voice cracks and your eyes snap open. Slowly, you turn around, heartbreaking at the sight of Sirius, tears streaming down his face as he roughly wipes them away. 

“You’re trying to prank me, right?” You question. Sirius stares at you in disbelief. 

“No?”

“Oh.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Wait- so you actually like me?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounds lighter, and he comes closer, hesitantly reaching for your arm. You let him, heart beating fast at the contact. 

“Sweetheart,” He sighs. “I would never joke about my feelings for you. Never.” He states and you suck in a breath, walking closer so your chests touch. 

“I like you too.”

“Yeah?”

You nod and that's all he needs to pull you in, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other in your hair. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and you don't hesitate in nodding. He goes in for a kiss but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “This doesn't mean I’m done pranking you.”

He scoffs playfully, “You think us dating is gonna stop me from pranking you? I have all summer to prepare.”

“It’s on.”

“Better be on the lookout, Sweetheart.” And then he pulls you in, mouth crushing against yours and it’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something. It’s fearless.

Taglist: (If you want to be removed, don't hesitate to ask. I won't take it personally)

@aremuslupinsimp

[lets-try-some-writing]

I come with strong feels so buckle up folks

I imagine migraine is strong from arguing but what i believe sends Soundwave to the floor is the overwhelming love Earth and Moon have for each other(Earth is still young but witnesses a lot and no matter what has so much love to give)

He's used by now to war violence anxd pain but that love leaves him a sobbing mess he had love for his long gone minicons that he grieves over now he has one. He lays in this overwhelming love of two giants and holds Lazerbeak close as it washes over him. He cherishes his last and only one cassette

He is the only spectator of this act and he accepts his role of documenting it(he shows it to other Speakers ar one point and they become sobbing messes maybe) .. He may not be a Speaker but as a Telepath it makes him close enough.. And maybe just maybe he is one of many future potential citizens of Titan!Moon

"And the Universe said I love you because you are love" - End poem Minecraft

Soundwave was forged a Telepath. He hated the ability in the beginning. Always hearing the murmured thoughts of those around him was deafening. He didn't want to listen. He didn't want to know their deepest thoughts. But as he aged and found purpose, he learned to see his Telepathy as a tool. He used it to learn what his opponents were planning, to track their movements politically and in the arena. He took no joy in his ability to hear the screams of those weighed down by pain, sorrow, and grief. But he used it to his advantage.

When the war began, he saw his power as a weapon to be used. Gathering information on those around him, weeding out traitors and assessing Autobot plans. It was all required and he took pride in his abilities. And yet as the war dragged on and the thoughts of more of his symbiotes were silenced, he found himself hating his power once more. Megatron was forever weighed down with a deep sea of anger and confusion. The rest of the Decepticons were echoing their leader in their thoughts. Always angry, always lost, always so very tired. The Autobots weren't much better.

All the thoughts around him were grim and suffocating. He despised hearing it all. It was easier to stay sequestered away in his quarters where he could work without the worst of it getting to him. He thought the silence would ease him. Instead, it allowed him to sense something else.

There were new thoughts, ones he did not recognize. It couldn't have been the fleshies. He struggles to understand their thoughts on a good day. No, instead the flares of thought were coming from both the planet he walked and from the closest orbital body surrounding the world called Earth. He observed and he learned to listen. When he wasn't working, he felt the thoughts. They were kind, soft, and adoring. How long had it been since he felt such love from any one mind, much less two? He could hardly recall.

Years passed on Earth, and he learned her thoughts. He told no one as he came to appreciate the adoring thoughts sent between Earth and her Dear One. He did not know all the words, but each one he dutifully recorded. With every passing cycle, he understood them with greater clarity. He held Laserbeak close and shifted to the song of thoughts whenever they were exchanged. The Titan below his pedes and the Titan looming above were not aware of him, but he knew them. He knew their thoughts and he felt their love. They were a comfort, and he could not help but preserve their interactions in his memory.

"Dear One? Are you well?"

"Always. Always with you near."

He heard them, and he cherished them. He did not know their names, but their love was infectious. The war didn't ache quite so much when he felt their waves of adoration spread across the land and sky. It was its own form of torture when he could not longer sense their thoughts locked in the shadow zone.

Even long after the war ended and Soundwave was released from his prison, he still found himself coming back to Earth regularly in order to feel her and her Moon's love. Earth was so very young, and yet Moon, the ancient Titan, still adored her. Soundwave liked to linger, and if he felt the call to go to the Titan hovering above the world he walked...

There was no reason he couldn't set up a base of operations from which to hunt Megatron down from.

[amelee23]

Cleaning supplies... Under the moonlight | Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader (no pronouns used but they are wearing a swim suit)

Characters: best friend!Hyunjin, reader, David (reader’s boyfriend), Jihyo and Luna (reader’s friends) and Sharon (identity is a spoiler). None of the original characters resemble real people.

Genre: Romance, best friends to lovers, ANGST, hurt/comfort, being saved from a messy break-up, slow burn, star-crossed lovers

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: CHEATING (reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend), toxic relationship, messy break-up, crying, reader becomes very insecure, Hyunjin is there to save the day, and he’s pining hard, reader is wearing a swim suit, I have no idea how heated pools work so don’t quote me on anything, Hyunjin is a poet so; I present to you confessing feelings through love poems, Hyunjin is shirtless, swearwords, reader gets called ‘angel’, kissing, cuddles, a bit of revenge, humor, the tense change is intentional (kinda), hopelessly romantic stuff, poetic prose, metaphors galore and lots of word plays (if you catch them all I’ll give you a gold star.)

A/n: I know the first part of the story focused on the reader’s relationship with her toxic boyfriend, but Hyunjin will become the main focus after the break-up so please don’t let the beginning intimidate you. Also I worked on this an entire week lord send help

Synopsis: Your vacation was supposed to go like this: scented candles, a warm pool and the light of the moon, in hopes of fixing your relationship with your boyfriend. But the universe had other plans. After you found out he has been cheating, you bathed under the moonlight, surrounded by broken roses, being confessed in poems by your best friend Hyunjin, and you’ve never felt so whole.

You've put everything into this vacation.

And that didn't only mean money, albeit it was quite costly. You, your boyfriend and some close friends decided to rent out a vacation house with a gigantic heated pool, to at least create a fun, leisure memory before summertime slipped between your fingers and the sun would grow sad and dim once again. With the price shared by so many people, it was still quite a lot - but you didn't care, because there was more emotion put behind this vacation than mere money.

Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest of solutions, just how when a couple decided to get married to fix their relationship (which to you always seemed like such a horrid idea), you were trying something similar. You wanted this vacation with your boyfriend, David. Things between you haven't been good, that would be the simplest way to put it. His behavior changed, he became more distant, less passionate about your relationship, and one thing led to another and you were fighting because of your growing suspicions. Truth be told, you were terrified. Afraid he didn't love you anymore, afraid he found someone else to spend his nights with.

He had been everything to you, the fiber woven from your cells, the beginning and end of every breath you took - because when you loved, you didn't hold back. And it came to you so naturally, too; to love him. You've never had something so simple, so stable until you met him. But they do say every good thing must come to an end, and there's this little cricket in the back of your mind, at low volume but at an unbearable high pitch, following you every moment, whether awake or asleep. It's telling you your gut is right. Vivi (so you've nicknamed him, many months ago, when his friends were making fun of how basic the name David is) has told you a million times you had nothing to worry about. That he's just busy, or stressed, or that your love is just settling into something more calm, rather than an intense teenage-like love, like it used to be in the beginning. He's made you feel insane so many times over. Like you're just imagining things, like your insecurities are getting out of hand and you're just projecting on him, lashing out at him. You thought you deserved the pain that came with the accusations of being untrusting, immature, unconfident, inconsiderate or selfish. But you didn't, of course you didn't. You didn't deserve any of that.

You were afraid Vivi wouldn't agree to the vacation, or even if he did, he wouldn't pull through on the money part and you'd have to pay his share. You were ready to annihilate your savings account just for this one chance at a happy memory. This one chance at making things right. But surprisingly, he agreed in a heartbeat and even suggested a specific vacation house he's heard of from his friends. Not even two days later, he had all the details down, made the math of the expenses and put together the whole group chat. You thought this was it, he was actually trying again. Showing you he still does have the passion to make you happy.

You couldn't have picked out a better date for the vacation, either. The first night, it would be a full moon, with a clear sky. You were imagining it already, how magical it was going to be, soaking in a heated pool under the moonlight with David, reciting your love vows once more, like you used to do in the start of your relationship. You couldn't help how hopelessly romantic you were, you needed to let it out, confess disgustingly sappy and cheesy words of admiration. But more than that, you needed him to tell you he loves you. You needed it.

When you arrived, you were met with a stranger who had been waiting for you and your friends at the vacation house. She introduced herself as Sharon, the daughter of the owner. Since her father was busy, she was left in charge of giving you the orientation.

"I'm not going to bother you much." She assured you, her voice was low in volume and yet high in pitch. "I'm just going to give you a quick tour of the rooms and then explain to you how the pool works, and what cleaning supplies you can use just in case you need them." She was a beautiful girl, so beautiful in fact, that the cricket in the back of your mind was telling you to be envious. You couldn't quite understand it, but you brushed it off.

There were three rooms in the house, each of them with their own bathroom. It was so much more luxurious than you imagined, and suddenly it seemed odd that you paid so little for something so grand. You remembered Vivi saying something about a discount, but the memory was vague. Nevertheless, the room count was perfect. One room would belong to you and Vivi, one to Jihyo and Luna, and one to Hyunjin.

You met Jihyo through Vivi, they were coworkers at some point. But the two of you instantly clicked and became girl friends, and the more, the merrier - Luna was her adopted sister, picked up from an orphanage in Spain. She was one of the most incredible and strongest women you've ever met, and you simply adored her. It was so magical to see how the two sisters came in a package, how they looked after each other with unconditional love. You thought something like that only existed in TV shows.

And lastly, there was Hyunjin. A man, a poet, a romantic with beauty deemed worthy of a Greek tragedy. But most importantly, your best friend; your lifeline. He understood you, in ways no one ever could. Your souls were made from the same material, the same thirst of emotions of celestial scales, he saw beauty in the small things just like you did. And he has been there, day in, day out, through your ugliest moments. When you were single at prom, he turned down at least 15 girls to take you instead. When you were too broke to afford Taylor Swift tickets, he pretended to 'roam the city' with you so that you'd listen to the concert from outside the stadium. When a boy broke your heart, he'd turn your pain into the most beautiful poems, and gift them to you in journals filled with drawings of your favorite flowers. He was more than anyone could ever ask for, and you were forever grateful to have such a human in your life. The perfect best friend.

With the tour out of the way, you volunteered to go with Sharon and receive the tutorial about the pool and supplies you must use for it. She explained to you the heating mechanism (although all you needed to do was turn it on, she reassured you.) and that water might need to be replenished if you use the pool a long time since the heat makes it evaporate faster. You jutted down all you could in your notes app, and then followed her to the supply closet. She explained to you about chlorine (although half of what she said went over your head) and showed you the cleaning supplies you can use in the instance that the water becomes extremely dirty (which she knew wouldn't be the case, but she was required to let you know). By the end of it, you were starting to think your senses maybe are going insane. Sharon seemed like a very nice and gentle person, and her attitude was very bright and easygoing. You told her you were gonna take some pictures of the bottles and note down in your phone what they are, so she gave you a warm smile and left you alone in the supply closet.

After writing your own one-thousand-words heated pool manual (pictures included), you were ready to have the vacation of a lifetime. You picked out a swimsuit in Vivi's favorite color, prepared his favorite scented candles to place around the pool, and alerted your friends beforehand that you wanted the pool just for you and Vivi on the first night. It was all coming together perfectly, so you grabbed the door handle with confidence.

"I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind if I leave a little bit later. We could grab some food and then hit up that bar you like? Don't I owe you a mojito?" That was Vivi's voice. Even with the door cracked just a little, you could hear it. It was so clear. It was his voice.

"I would love to." The cricket. Low in volume, high in pitch. It was speaking - it was agreeing to go out with your boyfriend.

"And maybe, afterwards I could take you home? Would you like that?" Your eyes are closed shut. But you couldn't close your ears, unfortunately. The conversation continued, and you could imagine him whispering in her ear, looking into her eyes and tipping her chin just how he used to do with you. Tears were about to escape, so you closed them even tighter. Your lungs were burning, because you were denying them air. Holding your breath, you bit your lip, hands shaking as they gripped the wall.

"Speaking of taking something home, I have something for you-"

You finally took a breath. And you stormed towards the voices.

Your vision was blurry, but after blinking away your tears, an image formed before your eyes: David, holding out a gigantic rose bouquet towards Sharon.

The ugliest flowers you've ever seen in your life, held by the ugliest man you've ever met. He was never beautiful to begin with, right? He couldn't have. A man with such an ugly soul, how could you have been attracted to him? How could you have loved him?

He calls out your name.

"This isn't what it looks like, okay? My dad is friends with Sharon's dad, okay? We became friends by association, okay?"

Okay?  Is he asking you that, or is he asking himself if the lie is plausible?

"And these are for you, yeah?" He's walking towards you, putting the bouquet in your limp hand. "There's nothing going on between me and Sharon." The cricket, it suddenly stopped. Instead, you heard Sharon gasp and look at David in horror. She must have not known. She was also just a victim.

"Just stop it already! Enough with the lies!" You found yourself yelling, a never seen before anger bubbling underneath your skin. Your fingertips urged you towards violence, and so you slammed the roses into the floor. The petals scattered and the stems broke. Your yell must have startled the others, because soon you heard a lot of footsteps behind you - and then Sharon turned around and walked away, a hurt look in her eyes, head hanging low in shame. She was avoiding the eyes of all your friends, who were now staring at you and David.

"Okay, fine. You've gotten boring and I was no longer happy. I was going to leave you anyway." He was so nonchalant, there was no waver in his voice. That made you feel as if every time he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and his voice wavered, he wasn't honest. Only now, has he finally been honest.

And the most honest, he was when he took off in a run to chase after Sharon. To make sure she's okay. To comfort her and tell her she's the one he loves.

You fell to the floor.

And to your side, rushed no other than Hyunjin. Like always, to make sure you're okay. To comfort you and tell you you are loved.

The sobs broke out of your body and shook you violently. You were a mess of tears in just a few seconds, and you weren't going to hold back. You wailed, grabbed the roses and slammed them into the floor repeatedly.

But it was useless. They couldn't feel pain. They couldn't feel your pain. They couldn't realize what they have done to you.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame and gently lifted you to your feet.

"C'mon, let's get you in bed, yeah?" Your knees were buckling and you had no strength to stand. You were shaking your head no, like a toddler who didn't want to go back home. "We can continue crying in bed, mmm? Don't worry, I'll let you cry. I'll cry with you, angel." Your arms circled his torso, clutching his shirt between your fingers. You called out his name, and he reassured you he knows, he knows it hurts.

He carefully took your hand and dragged you away. He exchanged glances and nodded at your friends, but you didn't notice. You whispered to him, groggy in voice, that you can't go to your own room, because David's things are there. So Hyunjin took you to his room, which was the best choice for many reasons, not only so you can avoid seeing his things, but also so that he could avoid the urge of throwing David's suitcase out the window.

Hyunjin was true to his words. He sat you down in bed, and let you cry. And before he knew it, he was crying with you. He was holding you so tight, and it was so warm, and yet the shards of ice in your heart weren't melting. At first, you were angry - how could a human do something like this? Something so despicable, so vile? How could you not have realized you were in love with a monster? But then, his voice began to ring in your head. You're boring. He was going to leave you anyways. Perhaps it's you who's the problem. Perhaps you really are boring, and old-fashioned, and demanding, and idealistic, and untrusting, and immature, and too much to handle, and perhaps you should just give up because you're just un-

"Hyune, am I unlovable?" Your voice was barely there, but he heard you. He always heard you.

"Nonsense." He looked so hurt to hear you say that. "That's such nonsense." He repeated with a laugh, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "That's the most stupid thing you've ever said in your life. And you've said many stupid things, I would know." You slapped his arm in protest, but he was happy to see you chuckle.

"I mean, even if I'm not completely unlovable, Sharon is still prettier than me..." The flick of Hyunjin's fingers resonated on your forehead. You held your head in pain.

"What the hell, dude!"

"It's revenge! Every single time you say something like that, it hurts me. So I must hurt you back." You sighed. You knew he was joking, but at the same time, there was some truth behind it.

"I'm sorry, Hyune. I should have listened to you. You didn't like him since the very beginning, and you were the only one telling me my gut was right. It must have been so painful to just watch."

"It's painful to watch you now, as well." He confessed, and you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. But he pulled you back in his arms, to pet you hair lovingly. "That bastard, how dare he hurt my angel. I swear I'm gonna turn into Rapunzel's mom and lock you up in a tower so no one can ever hurt you again."

"Hmm, but doesn't pain help us grow or whatever?"

You were pretty sure Hyunjin just rolled his eyes all the way back to China.

"First of all, we all know pain just gives you more trauma. But I mean, your trauma collection is getting quite... exquisite nowadays." You smacked him again, playfully. But this time, you actually laughed. "No but seriously... there is a lesson in there somewhere. And not just to listen to me more often... to learn that you deserve more, angel." He was so close to you while he was speaking, his eyes aimed directly into yours. Your gaze wondered over him, over Hyunjin, your best friend. His chocolate eyes, sweeter than any cake you could ever eat, his vibrant lips, plumper than any wild cherry growing in the trees, his skin - like a canvas painted over the years with the brush of years and aging. His hair was long and dark, rebellious yet elegant, and the light was cascading in the room in lines, through the blinds that were semi-shut over the windows. Suddenly, there was a new sound in your mind. There was no more cricket, there was the sound of the ocean. Waves, crashing upon the shore. You were barely at the seams, the water was gently lapping at your feet; because you knew, you cannot underestimate the ocean. If you go any further, one wave is enough to push you off balance and take you into the water, like an irresistible magnet pulling you towards demise. One step, one wave, is enough. One more inch between your lips and his.

He pushed your shoulder lightly and you fell face first into the pillows.

"And if you say more mean things about yourself, I swear I'm throwing you in the pool." You reached out for the napkins on the nightstand. It was finally time to stop crying and... think about the future?

"The pool... tonight was supposed to be all romantic and perfect, with candles and the full moon on clear skies..."

"I like full moons and clear skies!" Hyunjin announced, and for some reason it made you burst into laugher. "What! It's true! The idiot would have probably not enjoyed it anyways. He has no eye for beauty. He thinks having one green wall in his grey apartment is enough for him to live 'in vibrant color'. Okay Picasso, but like why the fuck must that wall be in the kitchen?!" You look happy when you laugh. He loves seeing you happy. "You dodged a bullet, trust me. First it's the green kitchen wall, next he ignores the perfect date that his perfect girl set up for him-" His perfect girl. You heart was racing. "-and next he-"

"Tries to double tap her with the daughter of a vacation house owner. He couldn't even find the daughter of a rich CEO."

"- I was gonna say next he's the only single grandpa in a retirement home, because he's too sad of an excuse of a man, but that too." Hyunjin always did this for you, as well. He made sure to roast all of your exes until all you could think of them is burnt chicken. Until the memory of them becomes something funny, that could never hurt you again. "Plus, I'm not letting your efforts go to waste - I'm not letting you miss this chance. Let's watch the moon, together."

You nodded. What else could you do?

You decided it would be best to try to take a nap until night hit. So much crying has left you dizzy and with a headache crawling at fast speeds through your forehead and sinuses.

"Do you have any painkillers? Should I try to find a pharmacy around here?" Hyunjin offered, but you reassured him you have some in your suitcase. "Okay, wait here, I'll go get it for you- but uh, which one is yours?"

"The one that has color on it, duh." He disappeared with a giggle, around the corner.

"I will never underestimate you ever again, ma'am." He joked, placing your colorful suitcase next to the bed. He made sure none of your items were left over in the room you used to shared with David, and insisted you stay put while he brings you a glass of water.

Pills in your system, blinds closed, blanket over your shoulders, Hyunjin curled on the other side of the bed, as small as he could make himself be, so that he doesn't make you feel suffocated. But he was holding two of your fingers in his hand, from across the bed. The skin of two fingers was enough pathway for you to feel a million bodies worth of love, though.

When you woke up, he wasn't there. Nor David who was haunting you in your dreams, nor Hyunjin who was whispering poems to you to chase the nightmares away. You thought you'd be alright after crying it out, but it wasn't that easy. You woke up feeling miserable, with a heavy weight on your chest, and yet feeling so empty and hollow.

You checked your phone, and he hasn't called. You didn't know if you should feel sad or relieved about it. At least he won't chase after you again, right? It won't be another hurtful on and off. It's over. He doesn't love you anymore.

"Oh hey, you're awake- Nah ah, no more crying! You've had your fill of tears, now it's time for a fill of pizza! Get your ass to the living room, missy!" You didn't have the time to cry when Hyunjin was chasing you out of the room with a pillow.

It was a little bit awkward at first, because Jihyo and Luna didn't know if they should bring it up or just try to distract you. Eventually you bit the bullet and began to tell them about your relationship yourself. All the behavior changes, the suspicions, the hurtful words (that you now realize were manipulation) and all the lies.

"Not even his guy friends knew." Jihyo told you. She apparently told the whole group chat she was in with David's friends about what he has been doing. "He didn't just lose his girlfriend, I think he lost most of his friends by doing this."

"Thank you, Ji. For having my back." Perhaps your relationships were monster trucks, but your friends were really golden. They really looked after you.

"So!" Hyunjin announced. "Change of plans. She's having a romantic moonlit date with me, instead. So the pool is still off limits." After Luna threw what looked like a piece of olive at Hyunjin's shirt, and he screamed in your ear, eventually the sisters said they were planning on working on their DnD character sheets anyway. They were your favorite nerds.

According to your phone, the moon would begin to rise at around nine in the evening. It was just enough time for the food in your bellies to settle, while you caught up with the new videos of your favorite comedy channel. Laughter filled the room, and Jihyo and Luna made sure to cuddle the heck out of you, to distract you from that emptiness that was threatening to form into a pit in your stomach.

"So, what scented candles do you have? Something sexy and seductive?" Hyunjin asked you, wriggling his eyebrows. It made the other girls giggle.

"Apple." You answered, and the whole room deadpanned.

"In what world is apple sexy?!"

"It's his favorite!" You tried to defend yourself, but Hyunjin just scoffed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you really needed a new boyfriend." This roast didn't make you grin. It didn't make you laugh. Instead, you looked down at the floor, a sigh shaking your body. As the seconds passed, you began to feel more and more stupid for ending up in this situation. For being so dumb as to let yourself be led on by some pretty words, and pretty eyes, that you could ever be truly loved- "Sorry." Hyunjin apologized in a panic. It just slipped, he had so much resentment bottled up for that man. "It's a good thing I brought some of mine with me. They're not exactly sexy, but they should be more fitting."

"Oh, what scent is it?"

"Ocean." Ocean, the waves that are lapping at your feet. They're calling you over.

Hyunjin was calling you over, to see if you like the smell of the candles. You had gone through too many emotions today: the anger, the sadness, the insecurities, and now this anxiety. Or was it thrill? If you put your ear on Hyunjin's chest, would you be able to hear the waves?

"I'm going to go set these up." He announced, and you nodded.

"I'll get changed." With a skip to his step, Hyunjin walked out and closed the door to give you privacy. You're not even in the water yet, and you already feel like you're drowning.

You fished out your swim suit from your luggage and laid it out on the bed before you. You actually bought this - spent so much money on it - got it in his favorite color - for a man who was cheating on you. You were really regretting not having brought an alternative with you. You couldn't just walk out in underwear and a shirt, right? Better not. You grit your teeth and put it on, but made a mental note to 'accidentally' start a dumpster fire, and 'accidentally' drop the swim suit in it after tonight.

When you were done changing, you found Hyunjin out by the pool. Somehow, he managed to turn it on by himself since you could already see steam coming off of it. He arranged two candles around one corner of the pool (since he only had two) and was probably waiting for you to arrive.

"Oh, angel. That color does not suit you." Hyunjin had always been quite picky when it came to fashion. He had his 'disgusted fashion designer' face on.

"I know, it's-"

"Let me guess, his favorite color? I've seem vomit more vibrant than that." You snorted at the comment. The color was, in fact, quite horrible. "If I wouldn't know how much money you probably spent on that, I'd tell you to set it on fire." You laughed. Great minds think alike.

"I was thinking the same thing." After exchanging grins, Hyunjin seemed to fall into thought. He had that look in his eyes that told you there was a complicated process going on in his mind.

"I'll buy you a new one." Surprised, you cocked an eyebrow at him as you approached the side of the pool he was at. You scooted next to the scented candle he lit, and sat down on the edge. "Careful you don't burn you butt." He joked, and you rolled your eyes at him. The candle wasn't even close to touching you. The water was very warm and calming, you noticed, when you dipped your feet in. It made you want to move even closer to the edge so that your tired ankles would be soothed.

"You don't need to buy me a new one. What would I use it for? I don't think I'll be at any pool again any time soon." A rosy petal tickled your toes and you realized the bouquet had somehow ended up in the water. There were petals and tiny white flowers scattered all around the corner of the pool. It would have been a beautiful sight, if it wasn't so tragic.

"Well, maybe I have been secretly planning a weekend trip to Jeju island for you and I." That surely caught you off guard. You barely had any money left after this vacation, you wouldn't be able to afford a trip to Jeju. He wasn't planning on paying for it all by himself, right?

"I mean, that sounds lovely, Hyune." You replied, even if you had some financial disagreements to talk about later. "But it's september! I don't think I'll be walking around in a swimsuit at the beach in this weather. It's getting chilly." The air was quite cold, you've noticed it ever since the morning. The sun didn't have the same strength as a few days ago - but thankfully the heat coming off of the pool was making it bearable to be out just in a swim suit.

"First of all, summer is a feeling, not a season. And second, I'll just get you one for next summer." Next summer - you almost forgot. To Hyunjin, highschool with you was barely yesterday, and next summer should be in two days. A year was nothing to him when he promised you forever.

"Okay." You replied quietly, swooshing the water around with your feet. You were scared to look him in the eyes, because suddenly you felt so vulnerable. You could trust his idea of forever, right?

"Okay!" He replied with a much brighter note. "With that settled, I'll go get changed for our pool adventure." He walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and the subtle smell of the ocean. It was still calling you, but now you could hear it clearer. You could smell it clearer. One more step, one more inch of your skin under the water, and perhaps you could feel it clearer, too.

The wait would have been agonizing if you hadn't made a friend in the moon as soon as you found it in the sky. She - the moon has always been a she to you - was looking absolutely astonishing . For a second, a very silly second, you thought the moon had done a better job at dressing up for a romantic date than you did. You searched around for the evening star as well, the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky. You hoped if the moon was going on a date tonight, it would be with the evening star. For he was a strong man to always keep his light so bright, to always manage to guide the sailors lost in the night-

Hyunjin came back with a few tiny packages in his hand. He was shirtless; and from waist down he wore swim trunks, an ombre from blue, to light blue, to white. With the way the sky was reflected in the pool, you would think he was trying to blend in with the water.

"Choco?" He nudged you, offering you a golden foil. You took one from him happily, and watched him as he took off an elastic band from his wrist to put his hair up in a messy ponytail. The chocolate he offered you was very delicious, and you guessed also probably very fancy. Hyunjin never held back when it came to pleasing the senses. But you wondered, how come he's offering you something sweet? Wasn't the ocean supposed to be salty?

He also ate a chocolate quietly next to you. The silence was getting heavy, which was very odd. Silence was always comforting next to him, but now, the less he spoke the more you felt confused and lost at sea.

"The bouquet ended up in the water." You told him, trying to make any sort of small talk. He hummed, put away the foil of the sweet treat he consumed, and eased himself fully into the pool. As soon as he was in, he let out a soulful sigh. He adored warm water, and you could tell from his body language, from the way his shoulders slumped and his neck craned to stare at the night sky, jaw wide open in admiration - that Hyunjin was in a happy place. Was it just you who was nervous, then?

To your surprise, Hyunjin pushed through the water all the way to the corner where the bouquet was floating about. He picked it up, and began to crush the flowers in his hand so that the petals would fall. He left the stems empty, and then threw them out of the pool. With powerful motions, he made the water roll in waves, so that the petals would scatter throughout the entire pool.

"Now it's just part of the decorum." He said with a giggle. He approached you, and his hand was warm and welcoming when it gently touched your knee. "Forget who they're from." As he beckoned you to join him in the water, you wanted to let those words hypnotize you. Allow the pain to fade to the background.

You join him in the water, and it embraces you like you were meant to be held in someone's arms your entire life. Even though you are surrounded by those petals - those empty promises, those broken parts of your heart - something inside of you is healing. You are no longer putting meaning or significance onto them. They no longer hold you captive. For that tiny moment, everything is as it should be: there is no other place you should have been. No other person you should have been. And no other person - besides your best friend with a dizzying smile - should have accompanied you that night. It was the universe's plan, and no one could be blamed for that.

The universe is vast. As you look up, through the thousands of celestial bodies before you, you can't pin point any to curse in grief and woe. Furthermore, you can't even name this strange feeling of acceptance. It had just appeared in your heart. 

"The sky is so beautiful." You mumble, and Hyunjin almost surprises you when he hums. He looks just as awestruck as you do, and you know for a fact he was the one meant to join you. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he takes as he says absolutely nothing. He is in a trance, and you are entranced by him.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" You hear him say, but it was quiet, like he wasn't sure of his own words.

"For all that is up there, up above,

In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:

The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He takes a pause, as if to rest for a heartbeat and let himself smile.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -

And help you see yourself in mine."

"That's beautiful, Hyune." You complimented. You wondered just how many poems he had stored in his mind and heart. Would you need a library pass to find out? "Who's it from?"

"Oh, he's not a published author." He replied cheekily. "Although he wishes he could be." From the shy yet smug look on his face, it was easy to piece it together.

"Did you write it?"

"Mhm."

"Like, on the spot? Just now?"

"Mhm."

You're absolutely insane!" You tell him with a gentle slap to the arm. He giggles and your heart melts. "I swear there's no human being more talented than you." He looks down at the water and something peculiar sparkles in his eyes. Something naughty, like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and yet he's unaware, he's proud of the mistake he's done.

"Well, it wouldn't be possible without you." You stare at him in confusion. Is he trying to thank you for supporting him and his passion for poetry? For the validation and reassurance you offer him when he works? It goes without question that you would be supporting your best friend- "Do you want me to recite the poem to you again?" You're confused and caught off guard. Frankly you have no idea what is going on, so you just shrug your shoulders awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess."

While Hyunjin has been standing to your side this entire time, leaning back on the edge of the pool, the scented candle between you two, now he moved to stand before you. He was blocking the moon, invading your senses, a dim light hugging his silhouette.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" He's looking in your eyes, and his hands move to grip the edge of the pool on either side of you head. Your lungs are burning.

"For all that is up there, up above" He looks towards the sky for a split second, and then he looks back at you, his eyes clouding with mist.

"In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:" He searches for you hand in the water, and with the most gentle pull, he brings it to his lips to kiss your fingers. A rose petal slips off of you arm and back into the water.

"The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He's smiling. He's in his happy place, and yet, you don't know how to accept that the weight of the ocean isn't trying to harm you.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -"  Was he seeing the moon in your eyes?

"And help you see yourself in mine." You were in his eyes. You were. It just took you so many years to see it.

"The moon and stars are shining for me?" You ask; you had to make sure. Your hands were shaking, and a chill ran down your spine.

"My love." He completed the lyric, and you were trying so so hard, to find oxygen in your lungs.

This was exactly were you were afraid of - that one step closer, the ocean waves would take you away, and you'd fall into the dark depths - and ultimately drown. "I'm in love with you." You hear him say. "I know you've been through so many emotions already, and this is just not the right time, because I don't wanna seem like I'm taking advantage of the situation and trying to be some sort of savior to you, but I really am in love with you and I can't stand watching you suffer-"

One of your favorite quotes you've ever read, by a person named Irtiqa Nabi, was 'The sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown'.

You just had to be willing.

You just had to understand.

You don't need the oxygen.

You take one more, final breath and reach out to kiss Hyunjin before he rambled away all night. His hands fly to embrace you, to cradle your face, to shield you with his body. 

It was the most terrifying leap of faith you've ever made, but you finally realized the ocean wasn't evil. It wasn't trying to take your life away or rob you of your heart. No, the ocean was this being full of life, full of warmth; he wanted you to dive beyond the surface. He wanted you to uncover his mysteries. And he loved you so much. 

"Wait." Hyunjin pulls away, dazed and with unfocused eyes. He bites his lip. "Are you sure about this? Once you allow me to love you, I won't stop. I don't let go." You look up at him and smile. No matter how many times you tell him, it'll never be enough: he's so beautiful. But tonight, something is different. He's exactly how the universe wanted him to be. Exactly where the universe wanted him to be. So naturally, only poetry could describe the beauty of a man who had found his destiny.

"Make me you last love, Hyunjin." You plead, and his eyes fill with both admiration and tears.

"Oh, I will." He cradles you so gently, and yet so tightly. His long fingers are enveloping your face, his body is swallowing yours like the tide, and he kisses you, again and again. And with each one, you gain life, you gather courage, a new constellation is born inside of you. Astrologers could only dream of uncovering all those new-born stars.

He drags you into the middle of the pool, and guides your legs around his waist. He holds you with ease, and from this angle, when you look down at him all you see is joy. But he hides in your neck, and finds another happy place in there.

You rest your head on his shoulder and look up the sky. The moon rose to a higher position, and she looks so calm, so all-knowing as she beams on you. She knew what was going to happen already, and now she was grinning at you slyly.

"Can you see the moon from there?" Hyunjin asks you, and you hum.

"Mhm. But you can't, can you?" It's not like he's trying, his eyes are closed as he cradles you.

"No, just tell her I said hi." You laugh. You wonder just for how long, has the moon known Hyunjin's secret? "I've got my own night sky right here." He says, as he hugs you even tighter, squeezing you to his chest like you're his childhood teddy bear.

"Cheesy." You mutter, but you place a kiss just underneath his ear. That ear begins to burn, and then his whole face is red (that's why he's hiding it away) and Hyunjin thinks he'll never grow used to it. In fact, he promises himself he won't. He promises to always allow himself to be surprised by just how much you mean to him. Over and over again.

Minutes turn to hours, just like days always turned to years around Hyunjin. Eventually you climb out of the pool to not turn into raisins - but you still continue to be tangled with each other, making up for all the kisses you've missed for all those years you've kept each other at arm's length. It feels like a pipe dream to call him yours, to kiss his lips that felt like clouds, look into his eyes that filled with lightning, listen to the words filled with thunder. And yet, his heartbeat still spoke to you in calm waves-

You and Hyunjin jump from your seats at the sound of something loudly popping. You frantically look around for the sound, and you see Jihyo and Luna, holding a confetti tube towards you. The sparkly paper falls to the floor, while some are carried by the wind towards you.

"Congratulations!" The two cheer, and you can't help but snort. Where did they even get confetti from?

"Now that the cat's outta the bag, the asshole is out of the picture and you're finally dating the right guy-" Luna almost sounds like she's rapping while she rambles, and everyone carries amusement on their faces. "And this guy can stop whining in my ear about how much he wants you-" You turn towards Hyunjin in shock, and he tries to make himself small and hide. He fails. "We can finally have some nice, family fun!"

"I thought we agreed you'd let us have the pool tonight!" Hyunjin argues, but Luna tuts in response.

"So I can just watch you two make out from afar? Nah, I wanna see it in person." With the look of an almost psycho, Luna grabs your leg and pulls you into the pool with her. She splashes you wildly in the face, and soon Jihyo and Hyunjin join you in a water fight even a toddler would easily win.

After a while a whole lot of fun, you approach Jihyo for a light conversation while the other two are struggling to inflate a beach ball.

"Have you known for a long time?"

"About Hyunjin's feelings? No, it was Luna who knew. I didn't know until tonight, honestly."

Hyunjin has been confiding in Luna, it seems. She was the only one who knew his secret - or well, maybe she wasn't. You look up at the moon, and then back at Luna, and something seems to make you laugh.

It is very late into the night, and yet you are all still awake. It came to the point where you had to leave the water, but Luna stops in the middle of the hallway and blocks the path.

"Hey, didn't that girl teach you stuff about cleaning the pool and all?"

You didn't even remember her name by this point.

"Yeah, why?"

"So what cleaning supplies should one use, let's say, if the pool becomes dirty with... An entire luggage worth of clothes and stuff?"

"What?" Hyunjin asks, breaking into a wild laugh, but he feels as if he already knows what Luna is about to say.

"Let's throw David's stuff into the pool." You display a look of horror, but when you look at Hyunjin, you see him comically dash into the house.

You're too dazed to even register when the suitcase showed up in front of your face. All three of your peers attacked the zippers like wild hyenas, and soon your ex's clothes are sent flying into the pool.

"Even his underwear is ugly." Hyunjin says, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it as far as he could into the pool. "I'm gonna need hand sanitizer after this."

You start to enjoy it after a while. Sure, you still tell them to not throw anything electric or expensive in there, like his earphones or watch, but you are the one to chuck his toothbrush in the pool and watch it sink to the bottom.

"Revenge is best served wet, baby." Luna pretends to dust off her hands and leaves the scene of the crime with a deadly hair flip.

Giggling like a bunch of school girls, you part ways to go quickly shower the chlorine away from your bodies. Then you reunite, clad in your comfiest pj's, and cuddle to Hyunjin's chest to listen to the sound of the ocean waves.

"Angel?" He calls out to you, and you look at him with hazy eyes. "Would it be weird or overwhelming if I told you I love you?"

"No." You shake your head and giggle. It's not that it was new information to you, but it did hold a new meaning now. A meaning - you found - you were always craving to reciprocate. Why have you been searching for Hyunjin in all of those people, when he was right there with you, petting your hair and making you feel alive?

"And would it be weird or overwhelming if I said that to you every night?"

"No, I would like that actually." You reach up to kiss him. He welcomes it and chases after your lips, and it's such a new high, that you wish it to turn into a habit.

"Okay." He whispers. "I love you."

"I love you." You reply. You don't say 'me too', you don't say 'i love you too'. Because this is not an action that he does and you copy. No, you love him all on your own. It's so crazy, that you love him independently, and he loves you independently, and yet when you're put together, you form the same constellation.

It's a good thing Hyunjin locked the door, because somewhere around five in the morning you got woken up by loud banging on your door, your handle being shaken erratically and an array of swear words. Hyunjin woke up as well, and you both tried to stifle your giggles, because that night you heard swearwords and insults you didn't even know existed.

By afternoon, when you got out of your room, he was completely gone. Turns out he collected his clothes from the pool and left with them soaking in a garbage bag. Luna had snuck out in the morning to record a video of David, trying and failing repeatedly to fish out his clothes with the stick end of a broom. You laughed so hard it brought you to tears, and when you went outside to check, you saw the only thing left, was a chlorine infused toothbrush sitting sad and depressed at the bottom of the pool.

You blocked him and threw away the memory of him into the sea. You knew the sea would be mean to him, drown him out and silence him. Because the universe wanted someone else to love you.

The moon, the stars, and all the eight seas;

They whispered to you that you had found your destiny.

Please leave some feedback if you have the time and energy!

If you like my work, you can donate to me on my Ko-Fi so I can continue writing!

©amelee23 do not copy or repost.

[graciegoeskrazy]

“and i do make art ty very much”

Matty Healy x Teen!Daughter!reader + lil bit of george

a/n: random thought the popped in my head. enjoy this cute lil blurb :)

As soon as you walked in the door you were expecting to follow your usual routine - burst through the door announcing your presence, grab a snack, tell your dad all the details and mundane facts about your day, then go upstairs and hide for awhile until your dad yells at you to do your homework or makes you come downstairs to get dinner. Today, however, that didn't exactly go to plan.

“I’m Home!” You said, but instead of being greeted my your dad or uncles, you were met with silence. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Dad? George? You here?” You didn't worry and just headed up to your room deciding to shoot a text to your dad to make sure he wasn't dead. Before you could hit send though, you found your father when you walked into your room.

“Jeez! You scared me!” You yelled.

Instead of a ‘sorry’ or ‘oh my bad’ he kept a straight face when asked, “What’s this?”

It took you a second to register exactly what he was worrying about, but eventually you realized it was your journal. Like your father, you kept at least 2 journals going at the same time. You however had 3. One for your usual ‘dear diary, blah blah blah’, one for the stuff your therapist makes you write, and another for the lyrics and poems you jot down in your spare time. And that just so happened to be the one your father held in his hands.

“Something you weren’t supposed to find.” You shyly replied.

You weren't mad at your father one bit. You tell him everything anyways, it’s like there isnt even a need for a diary because he a human version of one. Filled with all the knowledge of your hopes, dreams, stupid habits, and crushes. This, however, happened to be one of the rare things you kept from your father.

He looked at the pages again, “When did you make this?”

You quickly diverted the conversation. “Why are you going through my journal!?”

“I was cleaning.” He replied.

“You never clean.” You said, looking at him quizzically.

He shrugged and smiled. “You’re right. George told me you got high the other day and I was looking for drugs.”

“Ugh! That bitch!” You said, throwing your backpack on the ground.

“But screw that- this is really good! When did you make this?”

“That one was like a year ago? I don’t know.” You said crossing your arms, suddenly feeling a bit insecure.

“Can you stop reading my private feelings and thoughts please?” You tried to grab the book out of your dad's hands but he pulled it away before you had the chance.

“Is this one about your crush on June?” He said tauntingly.

“Dad!”

“Awe! You’re in love!”

You finally grabbed the book from him and held it tight to your chest.

“Why did you never tell me about this?” he asked.

“Because I didn't want to embarrass myself. Duh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad, you're a Grammy-nominated musician and I’m an angsty teenager who writes about teenage love. There’s a fine line and I don't want to embarrass myself by crossing it.”

“Darling, those were good! Hell, those are fucking great!”

“Thanks?”

After an awkward silence he continued.

“You should record those-”

“No-”

“It would be really good-”

“Get out-”

“I know some peopleeee.” He said smiling.

“Get out!”

He smiled and left the room, not before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

When he got downstairs, he was greeted by George in the kitchen. “What was happening up there?”

Matty got a drink from the fridge, “My baby is a songwriter.”

“Hm?” George asked.

“She wrote lyrics, George. And they're good too.”

George looked confused. Matty continued,

“We need to get those songs she wrote and make her record them.”

“Mate, you can’t force your daughter into the business.”

“Yeah, you’re right…”

“But I’m her uncle so it’s okay if I do it.”

Matty just laughed.

[emeryhiro]

I over analysed the Carol/Daryl promo vids

I'm back again with another over-analysis that no one asked for, but I'm really excited about this one, and I think you guys will love it, too.

Grab yourself a cup of tea because this might be a long one.

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These are the two vids I'll be breaking down and discussing:

Daryl's version on the right came out in August, but I didn't think much of his until I saw Carol's version on the left that came out this week. The puzzle pieces started to come together and a trend emerged.

Firstly, for context, below are the paintings at the start of each of their promo vids respectively:

Both these Paintings are by Gustave Dore. Carol's painting (left) is called The Angel Appearing to Balaam, and Daryl's (right) is called After the Shipwreck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let's start with Daryl's After the Shipwreck.

This painting was made as an illustration of a poem called The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, published in 1875, specifically a scene set at the end of the poem where the Mariner loses his entire crew and is stranded and forced to navigate the seas alone for seven days and nights.

Parallel with Daryl, being taken away from his family/home, getting lost at sea, and being forced to navigate through France on his own, trying to find a way home.

The painting is of the moment the masts of the Mariner's ship disappear underwater, which can be seen in the water to the left.

Parallel with Daryl having to watch that boat that would take him home leave without him.

A pilot and his son see the Mariner in his lifeboat, but they assume he's dead. When the Mariner gets up and grabs the oars, the men think he must be a devil, because they don't believe any man could have survived that.

Parallel with Carol thinking Daryl is dead when she runs into a walker that looks just like him during a scene in 02x01 (according to a leaked script), and later finds out that he's alive and not being able to believe her eyes.

A dark figure is seen at the helm of the lifeboat, presumed to be the Holy Hermit, symbolising the misery awaiting the Mariner on shore.

Parallel with the struggles Daryl experiences in France and his desperation to return home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, for Carol's The Angel Appearing to Balaam.

This painting is an illustration of a story told in the Bible (Book of Numbers, ch: 22-24), which, to summarise, is about a man named Balaam, who, against God's wishes, goes on a mission given to him by the King of Moab, so God sends him an Angel, who meets him on his route and sets him back on the right path that God wanted him on all along. After his encounter with the Angel, Balaam remains faithful to God, ignoring the constant pressures from the King.

There are so many parallels here, and some can have multiple meanings, but I'll point out the ones that seem most evident to me: who the people in this story represent.

God: I think it represents God/Fate/Destiny/[insert whichever divine power you can think of], and God's plan here represents the story that Daryl & Caryl were meant to be on if Daryl wasn't misled, and they hadn't been separated.

King of Moab: This person to me is Maggie; she didn't intend to separate Daryl/Caryl, but she was the one who ultimately sent Daryl on that mission, and Carol couldn't follow, therefore separating them.

Balaam: This one is clearly Daryl; he accepts the mission from Maggie, leaving Carol behind, thinking he'd be back in no time, which, unbeknownst to him, would end up being a mistake he'd regret greatly.

The Angel: It's clear as day in the actual promo video that Carol is the angel. As the image of the angel fades, Carol appears in its place. She will be the one to go out, find Daryl on his lost path, save him, and help him return to where he was always meant to be, with her, with his Home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was a long one, but I really enjoyed writing it; thank you so much for reading it, and I hope you guys liked it. My high school art history teacher would be so proud 😅

I'd love to know what you guys think and if you'd be interested in me doing a breakdown of the similar videos released for other characters like Laurent, Codron, and Fallou.

[Codron promo vid analysis]

[domquixotedospobresblog]

Maybe she'll go to my profile and like what she sees, all that charm can seduce this girl who sends me poems by great authors, says it's nothing special, she just saw it, read it, liked it and sent it to me because it had everything to do with me, that it wasn't an indirect message or a flirtation, just a casual sharing, this teacher is so used to the innocence of her little ones that she thinks I'm one of them, but I'm already leaving my indirect message here for her to read when she gets back, teacher, I'm dying to make love to you, let's make plans to go out any day, I can spend the whole night making my body and yours the most beautiful poem.

Jonas r Cezar

[thecoddaughter]

Pearl, Gem, & Lizzie as The History of Man by Maisie Peters

Tale as old as honey

Pearl being created, surrounded by watchers

A moment everybody knows

The moment turning into the stainglass style of big moments 

Yeah, I'm sure there was heartbreak

Each of the victors standing in front of their glass

Inside the walls of Jericho

Zooms out to see the exterior of the Hall of Memories floating in the Void 

I couldn't believe it

Younger Pearl floating through the Void, staring down an elder Watcher

How you could just stop wanting me?

Being exiled to Evo

You burnt down Easter Island

Evo building up to the entering the End together

As if it wasn't sacred, as if it wasn't sacred to me

Being forced to fight the Dragon alone, floating in the Void alone

I've seen it, in the poems and the sands

Exiting the End, with the Watcher’s reading out how Grian joined them again, landing on an isolated beach

I've pleaded, with the powers and their plans

Her finding her way back to the Void and convincing them to send her somewhere

I tried to rewrite it but I can't

Sitting in her tower, aware Grain had infiltrated the Empires Realm risking it all 

It's the history, the history of man

A portal opening and her getting access to the Hermit Realm

She stays up, he's sleeping like a lamb

Pearl working hard to figure things out, Sausage asleep nearby

She begs him, he says he doesn't understand

Pearl’s “death” in the Empires Realm and King Sasuage’s death 

She loves him, more than anyone ever has in the history, the history of man

Saint Pearlo being founded 

It's the history of man (yep)

Sausage of Santuary dedicating his life to Saint Pearlo

You didn't even falter

Gem looking at Fwhip after he destroyed the Empires Realm

Didn't look back once, did you?

Escaping with him, only to take a portal one day and not return herself

So Samson blamed Delilah, but given half the chance I

Gem watching all the Hermits having these strange pre-determined friendships no one can’t even explain

I would have made him weaker too

Her looking at Pearl and feeling that unexplainable friendship 

Sirens sounded, trumpets blaring

GeminiSlay being titled, fight scenes and whatnot

You walked out oh, without sweating

Spinning around Gem altering forms, unknowingly teleporting most nights

I've seen it, in the poems and the sands

Gem landing in Secret Life feeling something off

I've pleaded, with the powers and their plans

Gem unknowingly picking a former victor and a runner-up place for her team

I tried to rewrite it but I can't

Her staring confused at her gibberish spellbook next to her secret book

It's the history, the history of man

She fiddles with the Watcher charm Pearl gave her while staring at the secret keeper

She stays up, he's sleeping like a lamb

Gem staying over at Etho’s, questioning why something feels wrong about him being her brother

She begs him, he says he doesn't understand

She her charm symbol scratched into Scar’s floor and asks but he won’t tell 

She loves him more than anyone ever has in the history (history)

Images flickering between Fwhip and Etho

The history of man

Gem lingering in portals longer than safe

He stole her youth and promised heaven

Pearl fighting with the Watchers 

The men start wars yet Troy hates Helen

Grian get punished with being in charge of the Death Games, but still Pearl gets the short end of the stick

Women's hearts are lethal weapons

Gem going through the effects of the Boogieman Curse

Did you hold mine and feel threatened?

Her kneeling bloody in front of Pearl 

Hear my lyrics, taste my venom

Gem floating through the void and losing her memory again

You are still my great obsession

Gem finding Pearl and staying close to her

I've seen it, in the poems and the sands

Lizzie washing up on the beach in Empires Realm as the Ocean Queen

I've pleaded, with the powers and their plans

Lizzie falling through the Void after dying, meeting the watchers

I tried to rewrite it but I can't

Flashes of Jimmy dying soon after

It's the history (history), the history of man

Lizzie trying to hold onto her memories as they flash before her

I stay up, you're sleeping like a lamb

Lizzie waking up in SOS Realm [there may not be lore, but there is always lore]

I beg you and you don't understand

She tries to explain it to Joel but his memories are too blocked

I hold on, I try to hold your hand

Them holding hands but Joel looking distant

I save you a seat, and then you say you wanna stand

She watches him as he mindlessly portal jumps

So you'll lose me, the best you'll ever have

Lizzie sitting alone on SOS Realm

It's the history, the history of man

Flashes to Pearl and Gem feeling like they are missing someone

[bg-brainrot]

Day 8 of the BG3 Holiday Challenge with some found family <3

Prompt: Chosen Family

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You don’t have any family left in Baldur’s Gate, so when it comes time to celebrate Midwinter, you invite the family you do have: all of your old companions that can make it. Shadowheart, Gale, Halsin, and a few others join you for a meal and gift exchange. 

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, chosen family, extended family of ragtag adventurers, even volo is included

Word count: ~1.4k

“My dear, I’m afraid that staring at the clock won’t make our guests arrive any faster.” You turn to see Astarion standing at the doorway to your drawing room, holding a stack of letters. He’s dressed impeccably in his holiday best, even sporting a small red poinsettia in his lapel. Initially, he’d resisted the festive addition, but you reminded him that, while mild, a poinsettia is poisonous. Not a moment later the flower had found its way into his outfit.

You’re also adorned festively, a bright branch of holly weaved into your belt. Dressed to impress and ready to party for the Midwinter celebration, all that’s left are your guests– which aren’t due for another ten minutes. You sigh at Astarion’s words, knowing that he’s right. “How else am I supposed to spend the time?”

Astarion walks over to your seat on the coach and hands you half of the stack of letters. “Well, I figured this might be a fantastic opportunity to make sure we had an accurate headcount. In case we need to ask Gale to conjure any chairs.”

You take the letters gratefully and pat the seat next to you. He sits and you begin to sort through the papers. “Good idea, let’s see…” The first letter is from Alfira. It’s a lovely little letter, thanking you for the invitation, detailing her Midwinter plans with Lakrissa, and ending with a short little poem for the holiday. “Alfira already had plans.”

“Oh good,” Astarion says with a small clap. “I don’t think my poor ears could take yet another rendition of the Twelve Days of Midwinter.” He waves the letter in his hand as he follows up with, “Rolan also already had plans, something about Cal and Lia wanting to travel for the holiday.”

“Maybe we should have done that,” you say to Astarion, filled with more dread at hosting a party for your closest friends than you’ve had fighting any monster.

He knows you don’t really mean it, but agrees anyway. “We still have time to escape! I hear the feywild has some lovely weather.”

“How would we get to the feywild?” you ask, taking a look at the next letter in your stack.

“I don’t know, we’d figure it out,” he responds, before rolling his eyes at the letter he’s holding. “Why did you even invite Volo?”

You shrug, honestly unsure what compelled you. “He seems lonely, I guess?”

“Well, he’s still a yes,” Astarion says, grimacing.

“Good, I suppose.” You wave the letter in your hand at him, before adding, “Dame Aylin and Isobel can’t make it. Something about seeing Midwinter's arrival in each others’ arms.”

“But of course. We could have done the same, you know.” 

Your love gives you a suggestive look, which you smack with your next letter. “Stop tempting me! I know we can do this, and apparently the guests we do have are looking forward to it. Remember, Gale’s immediate yes? He’s even bringing Tara.”

“Do you suppose she requires her own chair?” Astarion asks, tapping his chin with what could only be Shadowheart’s letter, its writing neat and flowing.

“I think I already took her into account for chairs.” You’re positive you had, lest you offend the great Tara. “Is that Shadowheart’s response? Did she send an update?”

Astarion looks down at the letter, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding it. “Let's see. It says, ‘Don't worry, I'm still able to make it. Is it alright if I bring the owlbear? I wasn't able to find someone to watch him.'"

You stare at Astarion who only stares back. You break the silence to ask the question on both of your minds, "Where will we put him?"

"Perhaps Gale can shrink him for the night?"

"Good idea," you say with a nod and move on to the next letter in your stack. It's a short missive from Dammon. An appreciative message, though he already has Midwinter plans as well. “Dammon was a no.”

Your love smirks, giving you a knowing look. “Likely because Karlach couldn’t make it. Still can’t make it I take it?”

“Karlach and Wyll gratefully declined,” you say, holding up their letter. It’s been written quickly, has some scorched edges, and smells deeply of sulfur– truly no mystery as to why they couldn’t make it. “But Halsin said he would be here.”

"Someone, who I think is Withers, just sent back 'no'. Hmm." Astarion looks at the small piece of parchment containing the singular word and holds it up to you. “Why did you invite Withers? Scratch that, how did you invite Withers?”

You simply raise a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and say, “It felt rude not to invite him.”

He looks at you for a second, as if pondering whether or not it’s worth digging into the ‘how’ when a knock sounds at the door. “Oh, I suppose our first guest has arrived. Would you like to wager on who it might be?”

“Why bother,” you say with a snort, setting aside the rest of the stack and heading to the door. “We both know it’s Gale.”

Astarion laughs at your confident proclamation, and laughs even harder when you open the door to a smiling wizard, dressed in what can only be considered a holiday robe, lit up with faerie lights. Tara stands next to him, proudly wearing a red ribbon.

“Welcome! Come in, come in,” you say, waving him into your house. Once they’ve entered, you give Gale a hearty hug and Tara a small bow, which she seems to appreciate. After you take his coat and they settle in, Astarion serves them both a drink, a wine for Gale, a bowl of broth for Tara.

You spend some time talking and catching up until your next guests arrive with a soft knock. 

At the door is Shadowheart, wearing a markedly less ostentatious holiday outfit, a simple green sweater with silver pants, followed closely by a large owlbear. After a quick bit of magic from Gale, they both make their way inside to warm hugs and their own drinks. 

They’re just about sitting down when another knock comes.

The night continues in much the same fashion as Halsin arrives, then Volo, then Jaheira with several of her children in tow. Then, just when you think no one else will arrive, Minsc shows up with Boo wearing a single jolly bell.

The entire group settles in for drinks, food, and merriment, discussing all that they’ve been up to since you’ve last gotten together. The company is lively, the atmosphere warm, and you’re immensely satisfied with the outcome of your efforts as you finally take a seat next to Astarion. You begin to wonder why you were worried about hosting this at all.

Ahead of the party, you hadn’t received a response from Lae’zel. She was likely too busy in the Astral Plane to respond, so you tried not to think too much of it. However, partway through the night you receive a message from her through a Sending spell: “This is Lae’zel. Apologies, I’m indisposed. I’ve been informed Midwinter is a celebration, so consider this my celebratory message.”

You laugh and send your own message back, “Thank you, Lae’zel. Hope to see you for the next one!”

Astarion smiles at you once you relay the message to the group, squeezing your hand in his. He knew you’d been worried about her despite it all, and knowing that she, too, was alive and safe would finally set your mind at ease. And it did– like something that was missing finally clicked into place and you could just breathe.

You knew that not everyone would be able to make it, and you’re still not confident in your hosting abilities, but somehow, you’re still so very content. Something about sitting in a room with your love, your closest friends, and even Volo, fills you with so much hope for the upcoming spring.

When the group lifts their glasses to cheer for all that you’ve accomplished this year, the trials and tribulations you’ve overcome together, you can’t help but add, “And to the family we’ve made along the way. May we always find our way back to one another!”

The night passes in a haze of joy and love– somehow, by the end of it, you've agreed to host again next year. You can feel Astarion's amusement as he chuckles and holds you close.

[jellymellydraws]

Masterlist ~ << Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter >>

Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 22 -- All Fun and Games, Until It's Not Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn

Chapter Summary:

Rose innocently teases Astarion while they finish cleaning up the worg pits. The elf, however, wasn't in the mood to play..

The tension which hung in the pits had finally released. Even Rose's held breath was free with the druid's agreement to trust in her plans. The group gathered around Halsin asking questions of their own; many of which took their leader by surprise. With respect for the time they already spent, the only request she made of her team was to keep questions short and direct. They needed the druid to disappear, and they had to return to Minthara before she became suspicious of their lengthy absence.

"I don't suppose you know anything about The Absolute's plans for a Duke of the Gate?" Wyll asked with hesitant hope on his tongue.

Again, The Blade was worried about The Kidnapped Duke. She expected the subject to remain on his mind, but asking the imprisoned Druid? The goblins wouldn't be stupid enough to spill their full plans in front of him right?

"If I were to guess, quite possibly to implant a tadpole within him," Halsin answered plainly, "for what reason, I can't answer concretely."

That was expected. But for Wyll, he sighed with disappointment. She quietly pulled out her journal and flipped to its backpages. Earlier, she had noted Wyll's focus on the Duke, but seeing as he brought the subject up at the next chance he got-- she'd make sure to talk to The Blade about it later. A small star was scribbled next to the note regarding the Duke, along with a curved arrow pointing to Wyll's name.

"When we freed Liam, he told me you joined to find the Night Song," Shadowheart asked, "I was wondering if you made any progress on that?"

Night Song? That wasn't a note she recalled jotting down. Yet, it was on the cleric's mind. Hm... Reviewing the page in front of her, nothing mentioning the night or a song to be seen. Beneath what she wrote for Wyll, she added another one.

Shadowheart -- Night Song???

"Their stout companion had a map-- or rather, I think it was a poem? Something upon his person that was to aid in finding a path to the Night Song," Halsin explained, "their contract only directed them as far as this temple, however. Without a description of what the Night Song is, I cannot say what they would be searching for. More unfortunate, he was one of those overcome by the goblins when we arrived. I cannot say what became of his notes after that."

"A shame..."

"Thank you for entertaining us, Halsin," Rose said. "If you're going to stay, we should at least send word back to The Emerald Grove that you are safe."

"Ah, yes of course." Halsin opened the flap from his pouch, which appeared comically small in his oversized hand. A scroll case was procured from it and gingerly placed into Rose's hand, "if you can get further from the temple walls-- maybe your camp, if it's far enough-- use this to send a message back to Rath."

Upon opening the scroll case, arcane sigils were penned onto rolled parchment. Some of the symbols resembled those she saw around the Grove, but nothing she could understand. Gale was close to her shoulder, trying to get a glance of the magical paper within. His silence signaled that even he couldn't immediately read the spell.

"Animal Messenger," Halsin explained, seeing the furrowed brows of both Assassin and Wizard, "the spell will recruit a small bird or squirrel to relay a message, in your words. This is a basic druidic spell, however, which means you should keep your concise-- or your message will be delivered incomplete. I will find your camp later. For now, I leave the Drow to you."

Rose handed Gale the scroll case for safekeeping before giving a firm nod to Halsin, "we've got it covered."

With one final look to his saviors, Halsin wished them well, and once again was engulfed in his warm golden magic. A massive form shrunk into that of a tiny furry rat, before skittering into one of the goblin burrows and disappearing from sight.

"If he could have done that the whole time-- why didn't he?!" Astarion groaned, "ugh, honestly," an accusatory finger pointed at Rose, "you need to start charging for the inconvenience."

"If that were to happen, how much do you think you'd owe her just for today?" Shadowheart smirked.

"Oh ha-ha." The elf sarcastically laughed.

Blood red were the threads which weaved together as her ideas budded, colored with half truths which dyed the fabric of her tale. 

'It was like that when they got there,' she would swear. 'The bear was long gone, not before spilling the blood of his captors.' 'The freshness of the corpses implied this escape was recent.' 'In fact, their diminished forces provided the opportunity he needed to make his escape!'

Yes...believable. They never met the druid-- never saw the druid. They got here, saw the corpses, and investigated before reporting back.

That could work...

However, there were fraying threads which threatened to undo the whole tapestry before it left the loom. Where did the grease come from, which covered the paws of the worgs? One of the ceiling braziers mysteriously plummeted to the ground, while its twin remained untouched; why? The giant spider --misshapen thanks to blunt force and oozing out of its slashed wounds-- could not have been killed by the bear, so who else would have done it?

Commander Minthara was sharp. Too sharp to miss these details, and certainly too sharp to allow Rose and her team to leave alive at the slightest whiff of a lie. 

If she was going to create a story, it needed to be believable. If there were any flaws to her story, she needed to explain them away.

And if the only flaw were to be found by investigating the worg pits, then maybe she should give no reason to investigate further.

It was coming together...

Step One: cover their tracks.

The pits were a mess of guts and rubble, courtesy of a wild bear charging through the whole place. Whatever body parts remained intact were slashed with Halsin's fury. Very little remained of her own group's influence. But what little did, needed to be dealt with to the best of their capabilities.

"Collect all your arrows and blades. Leave the corpses untouched. Any possible trace of our interference, I want it removed," Rose commanded from the stone railing, overseeing the lower pits as the natural acoustics carried her voice. "An experienced Commander such as Minthara would know the signs of disturbed bodies, I'm not taking any risks here."

Lae'zel pursed her lips, staring at the table she tossed aside when Astarion found the dead dwarf. But orders were orders. Without a second thought, the gith effortlessly lifted the table and slowly placed it back atop the butchered corpse. 

"I was looting that!" Astarion complained, holding the hand which narrowly escaped being crushed.

"We were given direct orders," Lae'zel said.

Astarion tutted to himself before rising to his feet and closing his bag. His glare lingered upon the warrior, but nothing was said further.

Gale leaned against his staff for support while casting mage hand around the place to pick up and carry bits and pieces of broken potion bottles. A cloth draped over his open palm, where the small shards were escorted and carefully covered. Stowing them in his pack, the cleverness of the idea struck Rose. By wrapping the glass in cloth, he would not mistakenly pierce himself when digging in his pouch. Simultaneously, it meant that the mess left from thrown grease jars and discarded potions, acids, and brews would not be found.

"You've done this before, I take it?" Rose smirked to the wizard.

"Ah, well you don't get to be of my academic level without a few broken vials," he chuckled, "although alchemists are more experienced in this realm, I'd imagine. I've had my fair share of destroyed potions-- or even shattered windows, depending on the study."

Another chuckle, but this time she saw a wince in Gale's eye. A guilty smile flashed up towards her, realizing he had been caught.

"I don't suppose...well, in my condition I was moreso hoping--"

"Do you need to go back to camp, Gale?" Rose asked, outright.

"That would be preferred, yes. Though, I suppose it'd be rather obvious if I were seen limping when I was the image of perfect athleticism a moment ago-- save for my knees...but that isn't new."

"Heh, give me a moment to think up a plan. I'm sure I can-- oh that cheeky little shit."

"What--"

"Eyes on me. Don't look away."

Gale stopped himself from his head turning. Rose maintained her position facing towards the wizard. From the corner of her eye, however, caught an interesting sight.

There, slinking towards the deceased heaps of worg corpses: silvery curls and pointed ears, Astarion. No one else around, and no doubt taking advantage of Gale distracting her-- leave it to a former Magistrate to prod at the potential loopholes in her commands.

"What is he doing...?" She whispered to herself.

No, it was way too obvious! Of course he knew she could see him-- hells, he was probably toying with her. Probably bored, now that she thought about it.

"Give me a second, I need to entertain the restless Artiste," She smirked, turning on her heel and quietly descending the steps towards their sneaky elf. 

"I said leave the corpses alone, Art-starion," she playfully chided, with her arms crossing casually over her chest, "that includes the hounds--"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" 

His shriek ricocheted off the stonework, striking her silent as the hiss of his last word pierced her ears. Widened amber eyes locked onto equally widened rubies once he realized that the echo originated from him. 

Whatever color remained in his face, drained. 

Lips fluttered as he scrambled to recover.

"I-I mean--" his forced chuckle accompanied the slow, practiced, straightening of his posture, "an honest mistake, darling. You know, Wyll hasn't found anything to hunt around camp-- not for lack of trying, of course. The wilderness has been rather barren, hasn't it? I had thought I was doing our ever hard-working camp a favor. Unless," he extended an arm to Wyll, gesturally dragging him into his performance, "you think tonight would be different; why shouldn't we take these back to camp? Maybe it'll taste like wolf meat!"

Wyll's brow raised in skepticism, as his good eye glanced over to Rose. 

"Well?" She pushed for his response.

"Well..." the Blade began.

She shifted her weight onto one of her legs, raising her own brow, "you're not going to buy this--"

"He's not wrong..." he admitted, sheepishly smiling as a guilty hand rubbed the back of his neck. The apologetic strain in his voice did little to sooth the pain caused by her head whipping around with incredulity. "I mentioned the lack of animals earlier today...especially in these last few days."

"Seeeeeeeee!" Astarion cheered, appearing beside the Blade, arm draped over his newfound ally's shoulders, "if Wyll agrees with me, then I'm not being dramatic! We do have a lack of food reserves, and --while we're being honest-- I'm not sure how much longer we'll be lucky with fishing." He flashed another smile to her, before his gaze trailed above her head. 

As she followed his line of sight, she caught what he had settled on. Above her, Alfira and Gale were watching from the destroyed railing, and a sparkle of opportunity glinted in the elf's red eyes. 

"And here," he continued, pulling his arm off Wyll and briskly returning to the worg corpses, "we have perfectly good, and fresh food!" Quick fingers swiped over his tongue, pinching out a tiny flame at the end of one of the beast's ears. "I'll admit, it's ratheeeerrrrr, exotic, but it's nothing our magnificent Chef Gale of Waterdeep couldn't handle with his magical cooking capabilities. Isn't that right Gale? I know we've had a rough morning, you and I, but maybe we can break bread and put that behind us? Hm?"

"You know..." Gale began to stroke his beard, intrigued by the challenge.

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, "no, don't--"

"I once read a cookbook of classic Faerunian recipes which challenged ambitious chefs to use non-traditional protein substitutes." 

"You're supposed to be smarter than this..." she whispered to herself in defeat, rubbing circles in her temples as a headache formed. 

"All settled then!" Astarion clapped his hands together. "We take one dead mutt back to camp, Gale cooks it into something delicious-- a reward for a job well done today-- and everybody's happy!"

He emphasized each point with a step towards Rose, smiling proudly as he closed the proposal with a low bow.

She had to admit: it was his best performance yet. An impromptu act, left on the stage before her, and joined by the best co-stars he could have asked for!

How could she say no?

"No." 

Easily, and with a smirk.

Astarion's expression dropped like a porcelain vase falling off a shelf; shattered. That glint in his eye-- the hope, pride, and excitement-- gone, "Fine," he grumbled, dejected, "I'll leave the damned thing to rot..." He shrunk into a small, slouched, broken man. With a downward gaze and furrowed brow, he turned on his heel and slunk up the small stairway.

Watching him, her eyes softened and chest twisted painfully. The immediacy which he shifted from playfulness to melancholy...the Worg wasn't that serious of a matter to him-- was it...?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Wyll staring after the elf pensively. There was some sort of understanding within his gaze. One she couldn't place, nor could reason the source of. When his eye fell upon her, the disappointment pierced her like a true flying arrow.

Gods damn it all. She wasn't in the wrong, here! If they weren't undercover, she'd let him take both those worgs! Hell, if it weren't for that, she'd let Astarion take every corpse his little heart desired back to camp in a rolling cart! 

Didn't they understand that?! How important it was that they didn't fuck this up?!

Rose's feet moved her up the steps after him, before reason could find her in the growing mountain of her frustrations, "Astarion--!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he whipped around, bowing sarcastically, "I forgot to ask: may I be dismissed? Or do you need anything, dear leader?"

This little shit, how could he be so fucking--

Her chest twisted again, now staring into his exhausted eyes. Dark circles pooled beneath them, made darker by how sunken they were. From within, she sensed a hint of pain. It was this same look, she realized, he had given her at camp earlier-- when she assured him that he'd be taken care of without owing her a silver piece.

“I was captured," echoed his voice from the previous night, "and kept as a slave," bearing a weight only the river could carry. "For the last two hundred years, that’s all I’ve been.”

...How could she be so thoughtless? 

Guilt snapped its jaws around her, overriding the mounting urge to retaliate against his insolence.

"...No," against all instincts, her face softened, "we'll finish up here. Take Gale back to camp with you and we'll meet you there."

"Tsk..." Astarion rolled his eyes, then pretended to examine his nails (which, again, were properly covered in leather gloves), "what makes you think I'm returning to camp?" 

"Fine, then don't-- I'm not going to stop you. But it would be a favor to me, if you snuck him out and dropped him off at camp."

"I'm right here," Gale chimed in, "and I'm not sure if I appreciate being spoken of like smuggled goods."

"Shut up, wizard!" Astarion snapped. "Ugh-- a favor, you said?"

"Add it to my tab," Rose said.

"Oh, I will." The Agitated Artiste glared at Gale, who looked more like he was trying to disappear than to be caught in his sights. "Come on, Gale. But if you pass out on the road, I'm leaving you there."

"Don't do that," she half-heartedly pleaded.

"Then I'm adding every inconvenience as an extra favor you owe me."

"How does that-- are you--" she shook her head at every possible rebuttal, "--okay fine, that's fine. Whatever it takes to get him there safe and alive."

"Pleasure doing business with you, I'll see to it the wizard makes it to camp in one piece-- one living piece."

Trepidation took over the wizard's face as he hobbled towards his irritated escort.

"I'm not going to carry you though," Astarion said as they walked up the stairs.

"That, I think we're agreed on," Gale responded.

Rose watched on as their back and forth quieted while their forms disappeared from the top of the staircase. There were probably better ways she could have handled that...

It also wasn't a very well-thought plan...

"Um, Rose..." Alfira's quiet voice approached her. When she looked over, the tiefling had an arm extended towards the bear-sized crater, "I'm not sure how we'll hide that." 

Ah, yeah that...might be a challenge. Pulling herself from her frozen stance, she sighed heavily staring at the massive hole.

On one hand, it would support her story that Halsin escaped after fighting viciously-- no sense in claiming there was a battle without signs that the goblins fought back. On the other hand, would this raise more questions? If the goblins could throw a bear with the power of the Absolute, why couldn't he be subdued?

Laying in a broken heap was Birka's corpse, the branded one. Her injuries would align with the story of a bear rampage. Perhaps this crater is merely evidence that she fought back?

Gods...there wasn't much else she could pull together with the scene.

They'll have to make due...

Next Chapter >>

[teaandbatteries]

Call and Response

Welp. Despite not having watched a Marvel movie in years, have a random Marvel fanfic that just kind of spilled out of me for no reason over the last couple of days, lol.

It's also a very different vibe from my usual writing for some reason. I dunno, if I'm being honest I feel a bit weird about it, like it's way more purple than I usually write.

Anyway, it was inspired (in part) by a little little section of the poem "Hydrophobia" by Sam Sax.

--------

Alexander Pierce sat staring at the laptop sitting on his desk. Next to him, an analyst stood with a clipboard, watching nervously at the way his boss's jaw clenched over and over again in frustration. On the screen, a video feed showed a cell holding the Winter Soldier and yet another team of medics and agents who had been sent in to subdue him, bleeding out on the floor.

Pierce scoffed, knocking the laptop closed so hard that it nearly tipped backward off the desk. "How the hell did this happen?"

The analyst swallowed thickly, looking down at his clipboard. "Um. Well, sir, he was displaying hesitation before making his assigned kills, so the medical team has been using depressants to suppress his empathetic responses. Unfortunately, he developed a resistance to them very quickly, so they kept increasing the dosage until, uh... Well, the dosage was increased too much, and now it seems to have caused some sort of mental break, sir."

Pierce scowled, rubbing irritably at his temples. "So what, then? We just wait until his resistance to the medication wears off and reduce the dosage again?"

The analyst took a step back with a shuddering breath. "A-actually, given his enhanced physiology, the medical team isn't sure his resistance will ever wear off..."

Pierce leveled a murderous look at the analyst. "Then what do they plan to do about this?!"

"I, uh, I don't... I don't..."

A knock at the office door came just in time to save the poor analyst from having to finish that potentially fatal sentence, and a young woman wearing a lab coat stuck her head through the door. "Sir? I believe I may have found a potential option for handling our Winter Soldier problem."

Pierce waved her into the room. "Explain, miss...?"

"Doctor Patricia Hardy," she answered, smiling politely as she crossed the room and placed the file open on his desk. "The Winter Envoy program may finally have a use."

Looking over the file, Pierce frowned. "Wait, there are other Winter asset programs? Other enhanced agents? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

She shrugged. "Because they were largely failures, sir. The programs were all ended decades ago. The only one that actually produced any surviving assets was this one," she explained, gesturing to the file. "The Envoy program was originally trying to produce a functioning telepath. They never succeeded; the closest they ever came was producing a powerful empath." She reached over to point at a table of data on the next page of the file. "She can detect and mirror the emotional states of those around her. Experiments also suggest that she broadcasts her own emotions to anyone nearby, causing others to feel as she does. If we can ensure that she feels calm and compliant, and then we send her into the cell with the Winter Soldier..."

He nodded slowly, drawing out the first few words of the sentence as he considered all idea. "Yes, yes this could work. How long before we can have her ready?"

Hardy grinned. "I can have her out of cryo this afternoon, sir."

"And..." Pierce hummed to himself, looking over the file again. "You said they never found a good use for her? Really?"

She reached across the desk again, to point out a different table, dense with numbers. "Records show a few attempts to use her for interrogations. They forced her into a state of panic and then placed her in a room with the subject of the interrogation. It seems that part of the experiment worked, but the interrogators were just as affected as the subjects, and they were never able to figure out how to ensure that she only affected the intended subject."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Sounds like they just lacked creativity. Well, in any case, let's get her prepped to handle this problem with the Winter Soldier. We can talk more about other uses for her later." He turned suddenly to the analyst, who was still hovering silently next to him. "Well? What are you waiting for? Go help Dr Hardy."

--------

I was still disoriented from the slightly nauseating process of waking from cryosleep. They'd injected me with something right after pulling me from the chamber - something that made me feel like I was floating just slightly outside my own body, and yet somehow also managed to feel heavy, like a false serenity was pressing down on every one of my limbs, leaving me sluggish and unbalanced. 

The vertigo almost made me trip over my own feet as I was pushed down a dank hallway full of jail cells. I couldn't think, couldn't remember where I was. When the people wearing black masks pushed me through the door, all I could think about was how my fingers still felt numb from the cold of the cryochamber.

And then I was drowning in anger.

No, not anger. Not just anger, at least. The man in the corner of the cell was like a white-hot coal, radiating a vicious rage that can only be born of a deep, existential terror. He was an injured, cornered animal, with nothing left but a blind fury intended to take his murderers into the darkness with him.

Only, he wasn't injured. Not physically, at least. But I could feel the ragged edges of his psyche, shredded until it bled and scarred, and then shredded all over again, until there was almost nothing left. As the fog in my head finally began to clear, I began to understand who he was. What he was. He was like me - a captive plaything. 

To the people who held us here, we were both nothing more than toys, to be broken and remoulded into whatever shape most entertained them today. And then put away, back into the cold dark, until they wished to play with us again. The shape of my scars might be different than his, but they were left by the same careless hands.

As I stared across the cell at him, I understood why they were so afraid of him. His hands were still soaked with the blood of the last team who had tried to force him into submission. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension, ready to lash out at any who came too close.

I wasn't afraid of him. 

I should've been. A cornered animal was dangerous. But instead, all I felt was a kinship with him. I understood his rage, and  I understood the fear that fueled it.

His gaze swiveled slowly around the cage until it met mine. The anger that lapped against my skin like fire began to change - imperceptibly, at first, and then faster as the minutes ticked by in silence.

Mine was not anger. What lived inside me was a cold hate, a placid glass lake no less dangerous than the fire because it was so easy to mistake for serenity. It was not calm - it was cold and it was bitter, and it would drag anyone who got too close down into its infinite depths to be drowned without remorse.

I see you. I know you. We are the same.

We'd both been people, once. Real people. Whole people. And then we were brought here and hollowed out until there was nothing left that made us us. Denied memories, denied personality, denied pathos, they'd taken from us more than just freedom. They'd taken our identities.

I could feel what a real life felt like, sometimes, from the staff around the complex. I felt the mild annoyance from one of the doctors when one of his children was late for school. I felt the little ache of heartbreak from the admin assistant when his date last night hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. I felt the low, bubbling excitement of the gate guard at the prospect of her upcoming birthday party. All the little pieces of emotion that made up a whole life - a life I didn't get to have. 

I'd had a life like that, once. So had he. And there was still an echo of our lost lives inside each of us, buried deep, even if neither of us could remember them.

I wasn't sure where the words had come from. It was a poem, or maybe a song lyric. The rhythm of the phrase said that these words weren't mine - that I'd heard them somewhere before. I had no memory of where. How I'd recalled them at all was a mystery. 

there's a theory

that says you don't exist

unless someone calls

and you respond

But regardless of where they had come from, they were true words. Deeply true, in a way that resonated through the hollow in my chest, where my heart used to be.

Here, in this place, I did not exist. Neither of us did. Our bodies and our minds were assets that belonged to our captors. They were tools to be used. But I - I, the person, the human, the sentience that filled the mind and the body and the spaces in between - I did not exist here. I couldn't remember ever existing.

And then the silence of isolation was broken with a call and a response. I weren't sure whose was the call and whose the response. It didn't matter. It was the exchange. The recognition. I feel you. You exist.

This was Pierce's mistake. The act of sharing and mirroring emotion was not so simple or shallow as creating a general sense of calm. Oh, the Winter Soldier did calm - that much was true. The tension began to unwind from his muscles. His rate of his breaths slowed, and each inhale became deeper. He raised his head to meet my gaze, and his expression smoothed out of that twisted snarl into something more neutral. 

But the emotions shared between us were nothing subdued or submissive. If anything, his rage ran deeper now than it ever had before. This was not calm. This was control. This was patience. No longer a machine of blind instinct, he remembered how to be human again.

And in return, he gave me fire. There was an old coal of anger that still lived in my chest. It had long since gone cold; what was the point in fighting to defend a life like this? But his rage was something worth fighting for. A hot flame sparked under my breastbone, coming to life once more under the bright radiance of his fury.

The cell door opened behind me with the sound of nails against a chalkboard. A man in a lab coat stepped inside, followed by two men in black riot gear with stun guns. The doctor was holding a needle, shaking in his trembling hands. Terror rolled off of him in waves so powerful that it made me feel ill.

The Winter Soldier never once looked away from me as the doctor approached. His eyes remained fixed on my face, holding my gaze with such intensity that it was as if nothing else existed - or nothing else worthy of recognition, perhaps. He hadn't looked to the cell door when it opened. He didn't flinch when the doctor pressed the needle into his arm. He didn't move. He didn't resist. He just stared until the two guards took me by my arms and led me from the cell.

--------

"I thought this was supposed to make him less dangerous." The guard to my left jostled me carelessly as he turned his attention to the guard flanking my right. It was as if I wasn't even there. "I heard the doc they sent in after the last meeting ended up with both his legs broken. And he was lucky the team managed to taze the bastard before it got even worse."

The right guard just shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it'll take a couple of meetings before the effect lasts after she leaves. Let the eggheads figure that stuff out and just do your job, man."

When they pushed me through the cell door again, I expected to meet the injured animal again, to feel that white coal of rage. He looked just as he had when I walked in the last time. His hands were not so covered in blood, but he looked just as coiled with tension, just as eager for violence. 

Yet, despite what the guards were saying, I could feel clarity in him still. If anything, he seemed more controlled than he had at the end of our last encounter - no longer neutral, his control over his body language was absolute. The stiff, defensive posture were not instinct, this time. Was he doing it on purpose, then? And then, in response my confusion, I felt a faint, warbling thread of amusement from him. It was intentional. He was playing with them, misleading them. Convincing them to bring me back to him.

I want to see you. I want to know you. I feel real when you are near.

Yet again, I felt the spark of something within me that I hadn't felt in memory. And this time, it was something warm. Something good. Delight.

There was something delicious about the idea that the toy might have learned to play with his captors in return, even in such a small way. The warmth in my chest bloomed suddenly brighter. It wasn't anger - the heat was too gentle to be fire. And then I realized it wasn't mine: it was his pleasure at my approval.

Somewhere, buried deep under all the drugs, the obedience beaten into him, the feelings beaten out of him, the pain and the lost identity, I found the fragile shape of the man he used to be, once; the faint impression of a wicked wit and charm.

I felt the same mirrored in him - some vague sense of who I had been, once. It was small, hidden away under the layers of pain and loss, but undeniably there. Though him, I saw a piece of myself; a sense of justice that remained, even chipped and battered as it was, unbroken.

How long since I had known myself? It is difficult to understate the pleasure of knowing who you are, in even such a small way, after being nothing and no one for so very, very long.

--------

Pierce leaned back in his chair with a long groan, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "So she does stabilize him, but only while she's in the same room?"

Dr Hardy winced and nodded. "And when he's alone, his emotional instability is getting worse."

"We should end this experiment now, before he gets even worse."

The doctor shook her head. "Well, no, I don't think that's a wise choice. He's nearly useless as an asset on his own in this state already, so the risk we take by continuing to try to the Winter Envoy to stabilize him is very low. I have a promising new idea; if we leave them together for a more extended period of time, it may help recover his long-term stability because his emotions won't be swinging so often between states."

Pierce glowered at her. "We better not lose the Winter Soldier over this, doctor."

She nodded quickly. "I understand, sir. We'll begin the next stage of the program immediately."

---------

Maybe one day, I would have the chance to ask him for his name. But then again, maybe he wouldn't have an answer. Maybe he didn't know. I didn't know my own name, either. 

The guards and the doctors called him the Winter Soldier. But that was the name given by our captors. That was the name for the hollow tool they tried to make of him. It was not a name for him. And besides, it was too cold for a man whose emotions felt like fire against my skin.

We never spoke, not even when we were together for hours. It was too dangerous to risk one of the guards overhearing something that they didn't like. Besides, we didn't need to speak - the better part of communication was emotion, anyway. Words weren't necessary. Even if it meant I couldn't ask his name.

The cell door opened behind me. Tension crawled up my spine and settled easily against the rumbling, defensive anger that flowed out of him in response. He didn't know why I was afraid - only that I was, every time, in that moment just before one of the guards entered the cell to take me away.

I was afraid of one guard in particular. None of them were kind, but this one enjoyed being cruel to me. The others all knew, of course - how could they not, when they could all feel my fear of him? They didn't care. But despite their disregard, it was still always a relief to turn around and see a face that didn't belong to the sadist.

Except, today, that was the very face smirking down at me.

It all happened so fast. The little spark of panic flashed in my chest. Even had I wanted to hide it, there was nothing I could have done. The next instant, he - my fire and now my protector, too - was standing in front of me, blocking my view of the guard. There was barely any movement, hardly a sound. There was just the dull thump of the guard, suddenly limp, crumpling at his feet with a broken neck.

I felt his uncertainty in the silent moment that followed. He hadn't really considered what would come next, after he removed the threat. I expected that uncertainty to bloom into panic, especially when panic of my own began to claw its way up my throat, worse even, than when I'd seen the guard. What would they do to him for this? They would take him away from me. I would never see him again. Never exist again.

And yet, despite the way my terror hammered against him, he snapped suddenly into that particular sense of calm that come from the comfort of familiarity. The tactics of violence and survival were things he understood well. He was not afraid. My terror eased, just a little. I could breathe again. I didn't need my own certainty - I could feel his.

He bent down to take the gun from the guard's body. Then, after a moment's thought, he pulled the vest from the guard, too. Then he straightened, checked the chamber of the gun, and held the vest out for me to put on.

"We're leaving." His voice sounded like gravel, so rough from disuse that it was difficult to even make out the words. But I didn't need to hear them - he wanted me close, and so close I would remain.

The cell door hung open, and I had the sense from him that chaos would erupt the moment we stepped out without the guard. Escape. We needed a way outside.

Well. I could help with that. Down the hall, out of the prison wing, turn right, and find a door. Some of the support staff used it sometimes. I felt that heady combination of nerves and relief when they were approaching it, and I smelled the lingering cigarette smoke when they came back - a faster way out for a smoke break, but one they weren't supposed to use. It wasn't well-guarded, so it probably led to a roof or something equally inaccessible, but it was still better than trying to weave through the entire complex to use the guarded main entrance.

No one expected us to actually try to leave. The alarm didn't even go off until we were out of the prison wing entirely. 

Six people. He killed six people on the way out, and never even broke stride. Death wasn't supposed to be beautiful, but he was. It was the way he moved. Every time I'd seen him before, he was tense, stiff, almost lumbering. I had no idea he could move like this. Was this what dancing looked like? It should be. He was a masterpiece of precision, control, and absolute certainty in his actions.

No hesitation. No guilt. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing them. Each time a guard came down the hall, there was a simple choice to be made; he could kill the guard, or the guard would kill us. It was never a question, and there would never be a regret.

Beyond the door was not an exit - it was a window. It looked out into an alley. We were on the third floor. The window was open, the sill littered with cigarette butts. Not even the clinging stench of stale, cheap tobacco could ruin the miracle of breathing fresh air.

I felt it, the moment he judged that he could make the jump. Standing next to the window, he turned to reach for me, but there was a moment of hesitation just before his hands made contact with my skin. For just a beat, I wasn't sure why. Then I realized with a start that he was waiting for permission. I almost laughed - as if I would ever refuse him, as if I would ever choose to stay here, no matter what he asked me to do in the escape.

He did laugh, then, once he understood the nature of my surprise. It was a short, rough sound - almost a cough. But it was there, and the current of amusement underneath washed over me as he swept me off my feet. Then there was nothing but air, and I was glad for the way the wind tore the breath from my lungs, or else I might have screamed and alerted someone. He hit the ground hard and stumbled a few steps before he set me back on my feet.

Escape. Out of sight. Hurry, so close.

He didn't let go of my hand. Into the alley, around the corner. It didn't matter where we were going. Only that it was away from that place.

----------

He knew where to find an old dead drop of cash. I found a generous soul willing to lend us a change of clothes. A quick white lie to the clerk at the hotel front desk, and now, finally, there was warmth and quiet, and there was a locked door between us and the rest of the world. It wasn't safety, not really. I wasn't sure if we'd ever really be safe from people like them. But it was something close. It was good enough for tonight.

And we were free.

I expected to feel joy. Elation. Giddiness. But instead, as the last of the adrenaline drained away, there was nothing rose in its place. Just a void that had been filled with so much fear and pain for so long that, now that they were gone, all that was left was an aching emptiness. Could I even remember how to feel anything with enough power to fill that hollow? Anything other than fear?

And so it was fear that began to crawl back in to fill the vacuum. Fear that I had been irreparably broken. Fear that, after all I had suffered, freedom promised nothing more than this suffocating, blank nothing in my heart.

But it was only for a moment. He caught my wrist and I turned to him: sitting on the edge of the bed, staring up at me with the same cold dread on his face that was threatening to choke me. The ratcheting rate of my heart slowed just a little. I didn't have to face the void alone. 

Call and response. I see you. I know you. I feel you. I exist with you.

I felt the spark in my chest. That was source of the ember and the fire. It burned with rage when we were captives, in defiance against those who would snuff out our humanity. But now that the threat was gone, the fire was still there. It was no longer a furious defiance, but rather a desire for confirmation - I exist when I am seen, heard, felt, touched.

Touch me. I want to feel alive.

His grip on my wrist loosened. His fingers trailed slowly up my arm, leaving a ripple of goosebumps in their wake. It was only the barest of touches, but it didn't need to be anything more. 

Maybe this desire was already there, and it was only now that we noticed it. Or maybe it really had only crashed into us in this moment, to fill this void of fear with all the sudden force that I felt as it knocked the breath from my lungs. It filled the hollow in my chest and didn't stop - his desire fed mine fed his fed mine again, until, barely a breath later, every inch of my skin yearned so strongly to be touched that to feel the empty air was almost a physical ache.

The next moment, he had me by the waist and we fell together into the bed, eager to kiss, to caress, to be made real together. Every sensation was so potent that each alone seemed unbearable, but to endure them together was a bliss all its own. Even the hot sting of lust denied held a certain gratifying delight, so we lingered in stillness, breathing each other in and reveling in unsated hunger. 

It was pointless to ask whose passion first overcame patience - to do so would be to ask whose warmth was felt where skin met skin, or whose pleasure it was that brought us crashing over the edge, or whose sweat was left dotted and drying on my skin afterwards, as we lay tangled together and trying to catch our breaths.

It was ours. Always ours.

Even with my eyes closed, I knew he was looking at me. My cheek pillowed on his chest, I tipped my head up to meet his gaze; hooded, comfortable, soft. He was never meant to look at anyone this way again. This was a sort of victory all its own.

A smile tugged on his lips. "And I don't even know your name." There it was again - the shape of his wit. Less fragile, this time.

I turned to press my lips against his shoulder, muffling my laughter against his skin. "That's alright. Neither do I."

"Then what should I call you?"

I was in no hurry to answer. We were wrapped up, safe and lost, in the infinite hours before dawn. "I'm not sure," I answered softly. I trailed my fingers along the lines of his metal arm. I had not expected it to be so warm. "I've never had a name before. Not one I remember, at least." 

I meant to press a kiss to the edge of his jaw when I looked up at him again. He knew what I intended the moment he felt the surge of my affection. He turned to catch my lips, pleasure and affection and amusement mingling between us. His teeth grazed my lip, pulling a whimper unbidden from my chest - and then another as I felt the intensity of his reaction to even so small a sound. The intoxication of desiring and being desired in return swept over us again. On my back as the kiss was broken, I was pinned to the bed by his weight as we fought to catch our breaths. Was it normal, such intensity from nothing more than a kiss? Or was this a particular luxury of us feeling and feeding the passions of the other?

I was surprised to find a growing ache in my chest, but I understood suddenly why he wanted my name. There was a nameless thing that needed to be expressed, and the only way to express it would be to speak his name like a chant, a confession, a prayer. Because it is you who I feel here with me. You who reminded me that I am real. You whose emotions fit with mine like two halves of a whole. You. You. Only you.

I wanted to know his name, whatever it might be for now. "What should I call you, then?"

I could feel the shape of his words brushing against my lips as he answered; "The only thing I can remember being called is 'Soldier'."

My revulsion was fiercer than even I expected. "That is a name for the tool they tried to turn you into, not for the man you are."

His gaze was soft as he looked down at me, and I felt the sweetness wrap around his heart at the hearing the contrast given voice. "Not even if I'm your soldier?"

"You're not," I whispered. "You're free. You'll have no orders from me."

"Then not a soldier," he answered, his voice a low rumble that I felt against my chest as he kissed me once more. "Just yours."

[golbrocklovely]

What's you opinion on the colby and mlp drama? I see some fans are mad at him for "breaking her heart", cause the poor girl was waiting around for 8 years in the hopes of him finally making her his girlfriend and he has the audacity to date another girl. For all we know they're never been in a committed relationship.Her fans should be encouraging her to finally getting over him and move on.

i've gotten an ask about this before, a week or so back. i was against commenting on it just bc i don't want to give mlp the time of day. but as things have slowly played out, via her and her fans… i don't really feel the need to stay silent on it.

there's a lot i'm probably gonna say, so this will most likely be a very long post lol

and to those of you that hate-read the shit i post - especially since you like mlp so much - i ask you kindly to read completely thru. i know that's a lot, but please consider doing it, especially before you send in an ask calling me a "dick rider" for colby just bc i don't immediately say he's a slut and a douchebag for breaking her heart :)

i'm gonna give the briefest of rundowns for those that don't know.

first off, if you want to know how i feel about mlp, here is an ask i answered a while ago detailing most (if not all) of the shit she has done over the years.

secondly tbh, i never understood her relationship with colby. sure, they were always weirdly flirty, seemingly in a will-they-won't-they type of thing. but her livestreams have painted an ENTIRELY different picture. one that paints her as a bit…. unhinged, imo. he doesn't look great either, but i'll get into it.

now, what has been happening recently: i pop in occasionally to her streams but for the most part i steer clear bc she annoys me too much. i have friends that tell me everything, plus you guys. but i have witnessed some stuff with my own two eyes. when she first started streaming, she was NONSTOP talking about colby. answered any and all questions about him, how they were super close, talked about adventure buddies, said all the good poems in her book are about him, even saying she was gonna have him on at some point soon. and she was gonna have him in videos soon as well.

as you have pointed out, anon, her fans are mad that he "broke her heart" but how that became "reality", so to speak, stems from this: her sister asked her what she was doing for nye, and mlp said she had no plans bc "no one asked her yet" to do anything. fast forward to after colby's bday, aka around the time the pics of him and m leaked, and suddenly mlp is not streaming.

the stream she did a couple days after colby's bday is a new level of crazy i haven't seen from her bc she just aired it ALL out. and even if she didn't do that, her fans with their big ass mouths on twitter, insta, and tiktok, have been doing it for her.

she explained to her chat that she just went thru a breakup, basically. that it was an eight/nine year long situationship that was on and off again…. interestingly, her and colby have been friends since 2015. which would be…. eight/nine years.

very clearly, she is talking about colby, without saying his name.

now, there was someone in chat that said something about situationships, someone else asked what a situationship is, and the person replied with "a sexual relationship but with no commitment" or something vaguely like that. mlp immediately said "oh that's not what i had."

………so, you're telling me that whatever went on between the two of them….. wasn't sexual…. at all??? maybe i don't understand what a situationship is then, bc i was under the impression that the SEX PART was kinda the whole point. otherwise…. you just kinda have a friendship. an emotional situationship is just not a thing lol

even tho she kept telling her chat "i can't talk about this", she just kept going. she said that la changes ppl, that she thought they were on the same page for years and then all of sudden things took a turn. she thought she knew him well bc she was so close to him for so long. she can't talk about it publicly bc it's "too obvious" and she has to stay offline bc it's all on social media (which really just… seals the deal that it's about colby lol). she said she cried in his face and he said nothing. she also, verbatim, said "it's like one week you're their everything and then the next they want to go party and be with crazy girls and i'm not crazy" which…. cmon girl. you might as well have said m's name atp.

now, with all of this out of the way… how do i personally feel about this, since my opinion is so valid lol jk

for years, mlp has made it her mission to plant the seeds thru out the fandom that her and colby were secretly dating behind the scenes. that they had something going on but "oh guys, i can't talk about it ;)", playing coy and never outright shutting down the rumors. i have literal ss from her fan accounts saying "you guys don't know the truth. of course colby would never tell the full story" and shit like that. these are fans that fully were in GROUP CHATS with her for years, listening to her every word. so it's very clear to me she was telling them directly what was going on.

or at least the good parts - that her and colby were a thing.

but colby CONSISTENTLY has said time and time again that he is single, that he is not looking for a gf, that he hasn't had one since 2016, that he hasn't met someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with. he has said all of that to us for YEARS. now, unless bts he was saying to mlp "oh baby, you know i'm just lying to the fans" that is the ONLY WAY he would be completely in the wrong here. regardless, colby has been seen publicly with girls so. many. times. mlp has been called out for liking edits making fun of said girls! she's also been rumored to be his guard dog, to loom over him, that he needs to "keep his bitch on a lease" - and the ppl who said this were the girls that were fucking with him. so she isn't in the dark that he is with other ppl.

and again, a situationship is NONCOMMITTAL. that means they aren't dedicated to each other. she herself has been with other guys, she admitted that. so why is it colby is the asshole here?

her fans are claiming that he flaked on her, that he chose m over her….. babes, that's not how this works. first off, again - noncommittal. these are the terms and conditions they BOTH agreed to. they have been playing this cat and mouse game since like 2016. nothing about their relationship has changed since then, let's be honest here. secondly, she literally said out loud "no one has asked me" aka COLBY DIDN'T MAKE PLANS WITH HER. so, he can't flake on someone he didn't make plans with. and this is no shade to mlp - but she doesn't drink, she doesn't party. colby for years has always been a partier. what exactly was he supposed to do with her on nye???? i'm not saying that to be mean. i say this as someone who is a wallflower, a stick in the mud, a prude, a straight-edge, ect ect. i haven't partied since i was in my early 20s. i get the lifestyle she has. i'm just saying realistically, of course he's not gonna want to hang out with her on one of the biggest nights to party.

now, all of this is not to say that she is the only one that did wrong in this situationship. colby should have said something long before now. but he liked that she emotionally supported him, he liked he could rely on her for his emotional needs to be fulfilled. he should have realized how deeply into him she was. he should have cut the chord long before things got to what they are today. but to bring it back to mlp, since this is about her mostly - she is 30. THIRTY. she has been playing this game since her early 20s. she knew what she signed up for. they haven't even had sex. with all that deep emotional bond shit they had going on - they never got intimate in that way. and clearly, she never had a problem with it. until now.

i think for the entirety of their relationship, mlp knew at the drop of a hat colby would come running to her - and vice versa. i think this is the ONE TIME he chose someone else over her. that, tied with the fact that she was making all these promises of him being in her content - videos, her documentary, streams - she NEEDED colby to say yes to all of this. and maybe he said yes, but then changed his mind. maybe he said he was too busy, and when she found out what he was busy with (hanging out with m on nye), it finally clicked that he was not into her like she was into him. even tho as a fan that has been obvious for years now.

and while i don't like mlp, i don't wish her harm. i don't wish her to be heart broken or sad. i know exactly what she is going thru. all of my dating experience has been unrequited love. i get it. trust me. however, you can't play innocent and naive. you knew what colby was doing all this time. and sure, he's a dick for not stopping this sooner. but you clearly knew what was up - YOU COULD HAVE LEFT. you had years, eight years in fact, to leave at any point. but you accepted what you could get, and you milked it for all it was worth. not to mention, but how did you expect him to want to be with you when you are in gcs with his minor fans talking about him constantly??? that man likes to keep things private, and you were basically shouting it from the rooftops.

not only that, but you played the fun game of shitting on any girl he was friends with or hooking up with. and only apologized when you got called out for it. and then tried to play the whole "i'm all for women supporting women" bs. let's be real honest, cards on the table - you only support women when you deem them as nonthreatening. the moment a woman is competition to you, especially in regards to getting attention from colby, you shit on them. bc you're scared. you're scared he will choose them over you.

also this doesn't even take into the fact that why would you want him to date you at this point when he has made it clear he doesn't like you like that? you want him to lie and pretend to be into you?

all of this being said, while i do have some sympathy for her, i also really don't. and the reason for it is bc she LIES. she egregiously lies, and has done it multiple times in her live streams (and obviously for years now).

here's two main ones, off the top of my head: one, she said she doesn't who corey scherer is…… besides the fact that apparently she has been in colby's life since basically corey was there, i find it hard to believe she doesn't know who he is. one reason is bc she used to go over to the old trap house. she 100% met him. and you know why i know this? reason number two, SHE IS IN THE BACKGROUND OF ONE OF COREY'S VIDEOS. she is there, sitting next colby. watching corey do something goofy for his vlog. why she would lie about this, idk.

two, and this is a bit of a weird one, she said she doesn't like zoos. she said bc she's vegan, zoos make her upset and cry and that she wants animals to be free or whatever. okay, hey, that's valid. and you might be like "how is this a lie?" well, back in september, when snc were in hot topic. she went with colby to said store. you know what they did after that (maybe even before)? THEY WENT TO A ZOO. i got the video clips of her giggling with colby over a capybara. the last time she seemingly hung out with him publicly was THEM GOING TO A ZOO. when she answered this question on stream, i was confused. bc she literally was just at a zoo with colby. so why lie??

she doesn't even benefit from lying about this shit. so what is the point?

and the reason why a lot of this deeply pisses me off is bc of how two faced these fans of hers (and colby's) are. in chat, she will have ppl kissing her ass, saying colby is a shitty guy. he's emo trash, he's a douche, they want beat the shit out of him from breaking her heart. he's a slut, and they even trash m. all that. but then, weirdly, on twitter and on xplrclub these same exact fans are begging, PLEADING, for colby to give them a crumb of attention. making edits of him, buying the merch, tagging him relentlessly. so… which is it? is he a dickhead, or is he this swell guy you want to have say your name in chat? pick a fucking lane.

okay. i'm done now :) lol

[a-tale-never-told]

History of Novoselic (Part 2)

So Novoselic was a free nation, with a constitutional monarchy and Josip at the head. He married a fellow soldier, named Maria Bronchek, who would be the first Queen of the nation. She would then go on to father two children: Zoya Nevermind on October 20th 1911, and Paul Nevermind on May 5th, 1912.

However, peace didn't last for long as WW1 broke out, and Novoselic had no intention of getting involved. However as the German Empire, Austria-Hungary,, Turkey, and Bulgaria began to get more involved in the Balkans, with Serbia falling in 1915, Josip realized that war was pretty much inevitable and declared war on the Central powers in January 1916. The Central Powers in response invaded Novoselic in March of the same year and destroyed the Novoselic forces. Josip might have had a decent army, but they were no match for three powers coming at them from all sides. Within just six months, 90% of Novoselic's army was annihilated on the field

But Josip didn't give up, as he led an underground resistance movement against the German empire and its allies. Despite some success, they weren't really able to get a decisive victory, though they did weaken the enemy forces considerably, inflicting mass casualties. Eventually, the British, French, and Italian armies managed to push the Central Powers out of Novoselic by April 1918. Novoselic was free again, but at the cost of a thousand dead and many more wounded, and the nation was devastated.

Josip decided to solve the issue by rationing goods and sending people to the agricultural fields. He also announced that every man would have to work in the industry business, like railroads and shelters as a plan to industrialize Novoselic. He adopted the Western style of market economics and focused both on the agricultural side and on the industrial side. He allowed private ownership of small businesss as a way to rebuild the economy. In short, Capitalism was applied here.

But as the 1920s progressed, Josip was starting to fall ill. Now he had contracted typhus during the winter of 1917 and the typhus issue stayed with him for the rest of his life. While he was overseeing a nation prospering and rebuilding, Josip was dying. Once that was head in the Rastek, which is the Novoselic version of Parliament or Congress, a debate occurred about who was to succeed him. His wife planned to abdicate due to age as well. Most agree that Zoya would succeed him, after all, she had the ability to be a leader and had some of her father's qualities.

However, in his mind, Josip I believe wanted Paul to succeed him. He was afraid of Zoya's friendship with Fascist Italy, where Mussolini and his Blackshirts were rising to prominence, as well as strained relations with the new Yugoslavia, who wished for Novoselic to join Yugoslavia, which Josip basically told them to fuck off. And then, if this wasn't bad enough, the Great Depression hit.

Novoselic's economy crumbled and with it, the era of prosperity was over, a return to the post-war years. And to make matters worse, Josip died. The King and Father of the Nation died on February 15th, 1931. Across the nation, millions mourned the death of their leader and he was buried in his hometown of Plejeck, Novoselic. Still, Josip left a legacy, coming from the humblest of beginnings to leading Novoselic through dark times. To them, he is the true king, a god-king for them. Across the nation, Books, literature, poems, musicals, theaters, everything was dedicated to Josip, becoming a Novoselic icon.

However, the real question was on everyone's minds: Who would succeed him. This question would have to be answered as the 1930s rolled in.....

[meeeeeeese]

1, 7, 16 for Rugan and Falx! (@commanderhorncleaver)

Who do they look up to?

Rugan thinks for a moment "well, that's an interesting question. If you'd asked me earlier in my life I'd have a plethora of different answers, like Sieran, Trahearne, even Rytlock at one point!" He barks out a laugh at his last suggestion "don't get me wrong, I love the guy but, I guess he's a lot more… on my level now, you know? If I had to pick someone now… maybe Taimi. She's a hell of a resilient kid and I can respect that."

"Who do I look up to? Phht, like there's anyone greater than me." Falx pauses, a rare and brief look of introspection crosses his face "well I guess my sire's pretty great" He holds up an armoured paw, showing off a glowing mechanical gauntlet that hums with power "He made me my power suit you know? He gets how great I am!"

Any family scandals? Does your character know about them?

i'll answer this one combining them and out of character since they're both part of the same family and can't really answer about things they don't know. This one hasn't 'erupted' yet and neither of them know about it, but Falx has a half-brother that neither he nor Rugan know about. It all came about during Rugan's stay with the olmakhan where, well, there's only so much to do at night on the sandswept isles. And as the tall, handsome foreigner who'd saved the village, he got a lot of interest from the local charr. He ended up producing a cub, but he'd left to fight Joko before having the chance to find out he was going to be a father. Rox is really the only one in Rugan's circle of friends that has any idea, given that shes seeing a suspiciously familiar looking cub waddling around Althoma. Nothings come of it so far, but it'll likely cause drama in the future

What is the most romantic thing someone has done for them?

Rugan gets a wistful look in eyes as he thinks back, "well, lets see… It was a while ago, before I got into the whole dragonslaying business. I'd gone to the scrapyard to pick up some scrap, I was a lot less cautious back then and got ambushed by a pack of oozes lurking amid the scrap." His nose wrinkles as he recalls the smell "Word of advice, if an ooze gets on you, scrap it off before you do anything to puncture the outer membrane. I didn't know that back then and got dead ooze gunk all over my fur, worse still, it was the middle of summer so by the time I got back to the barracks it was all baked in. I felt terrible and smelled worse than a rotting devourer, I was sitting in my bunk psyching myself up for the worst grooming session of my life when my mate at the time, a guy named Howl, found me. He was planning on spending the afternoon at the bane for a sparring session but he stayed behind and instead spent the afternoon helping me get all the gunk off. Maybe it wasn't the grandest gesture but, it was sweet of him to do that and, not gonna lie, being groomed by him was pretty hot too."

A smirk crosses Falx's face "Ha, well I've had a lot of people try to date me, and I can understand why, even if most of them don't meet my standards. Some of them even try some big gesture to get me to go out with them! I think the most "romantic"" he says while making exaggerated air quotes, "thing was someone, I forget her name, sending a poem along with a platter of meat pies to express her love. i might have gone for her, if she'd been of higher rank but as it stood she just wasn't nearly important enough for me to care"