#this was getting out of hand; so I cut myself off a bit preemptively

[2c75ff]

♛ + Viopolis ( would not blame you for choosing to focus on just one muse; I have a decently-sized roster and feed a bunch into them when I have the chance )

🔵 -- 'MY OPINION ON...' meme . ACCEPTING

my opinion on;

CHARACTER IN GENERAL. I've chosen to focus on Nucleotide for this particular response, henceforth referred to as 'Cleo'.

One of my favorite things about Cleo thus far is how his very existence, and the fact that he's such a mental mess about it in the first place, raises a variety of weighty questions about the nature of his being and the overall place he occupies in the world.

(For instance: is he fated -- [doomed, even] -- to be 'bad' just because his progenitor was? Do his origins mean that he didn't deserve a chance at life in the first place? Does his unstable sense of belonging within a broader community -- in combination with the ever-present, latent threat that he could very well present to humanity if he ever chose to -- mean that he's inherently evil? How much of his emotional struggles [with himself and with others] is he allowed to show and be forgiven for before those things should be held against him or taken as proof of some kind of inherited and inescapable malevolence? Is he allowed to make mistakes, regress, or fluctuate emotionally in the way that others often do without it being seen as a sign that he's just a ticking time bomb waiting to inevitably go off? Will he ever be considered 'good', or is he always going to be just one wrong move away from becoming a villain [perhaps one he was always meant to be] in the eyes of those around him? The list truly does go ever on and on.)

And here's the thing about it. While I might have my own responses to all of those questions, I can't necessarily take for granted that my answers are 'right' within the scope of the universe Cleo operates in, or that they fall in line with whatever fate (or in this case, you) might have in store for him. He truly is a creature of opposites -- a chimeric, conflicted, deeply confused entity caught in the midst of warring urges and warring inputs that, when you get right down to it, are not actually his fault. He can't help the who, what, why of his existence, and yet everyone who crosses paths with him can see it and bring their own baggage to the table. It's never solely, truly about him. It's unfortunate. It's unfair. The world he was brought into really is just that kind of bitch sometimes -- and yet here he is all the same, making some kind of unsure, fumble-footed effort to stay on the right side of The Line, for all that he doesn't always necessarily feel that kind of charitable and for all that he isn't always necessarily graceful about it. He may or may not be doomed by the narrative in the long run, but the fact that he even cares in the first place about being accepted, about having a place, about being good says more about him than he himself might realize.

What's more relatable than the struggle of not wanting the wreckage of your being to be seen for exactly what it is, while simultaneously longing for just the same?

What's more relatable than wanting someone to See, and not look away in the end?

(...Okay, yeah; I'm big attached already. Call me out, why don't you.)

HOW THEY PLAY THEM. One of your strengths that I'm already noticing as I gain familiarity with your blog -- (and this applies to everyone you play; not Cleo alone) -- is that you allow your characters ample room to be difficult, wrong, or ugly, even (or perhaps especially) if they aren't necessarily villainous or 'bad people'.

It's always seemed to me that many writers struggle with some protective sentiments toward the characters they play, especially if those characters are OCs -- a certain desire for the characters to not act foolishly and to not be pathetic; to always have 'an excuse' for why the moments when they're wrong, or making a poor choice, or otherwise exhibiting any kind of unattractive trait shouldn't be held against them. By comparison, you seem to treat your characters' traits less as inherent negatives and more as parts of the greater whole which must be seen and acknowledged in order to understand the entirety of the picture. No more and no less. You let them have their good, their bad, their everything in between, without trying to buff away their imperfect facets. The end result, in my opinion, is a pleasingly complicated sense of 'realness'.

Bringing this back more specifically to Cleo, you take care to explain his conflicted nature, permit him to have negative traits both large and small, and don't try to convince your audience that he's above reproach or entirely clean-handed in the moments where he actually expresses those traits or otherwise acts in ways that would make him difficult for most people to handle. For a multitude of reasons, Cleo would be a hard person with whom to develop or maintain any kind of meaningful relationship; and I think you're good at striking an important balance between making him sympathetic, and letting him still be troubled in ways that have effects on and consequences for those around him. He's isolated, yet not an island. I can't help but feel a very particular variety of affectionate over him.

THE WRITER. Right up front, I appreciate the fact that you present yourself in an engaging, friendly, enthusiastic manner, without "uwu-ify"-ing yourself in the process. I understand that many people are shy and/or anxious, and that there's a certain, unspoken expectation in many of these kinds of spaces for players to preemptively assuage others' nerves by making themselves appear as small and non-threatening as possible. However, I am very much an adult -- (I do taxes. I have a Roth IRA.) -- and find that I gravitate most readily toward other adults who occupy their space with a certain measure of basic self-assurance. You do that without coming across like a hard-ass, and I find that wildly refreshing.

do i;

FOLLOW THEM. Of course. RP WITH THEM. Not yet. WANT TO RP WITH THEM. Naturally. SHIP THEIR CHARACTER WITH MINE. I would need to see these two in action with each other before I could properly say -- get an idea of the initial flavor of the dynamic, gauge where and how that dynamic might progress given time and tending; all that. I'd be absolutely open to the possibility though if indeed a facet like that proved to be both reasonable for them and interesting for us. In any case I can see abundant opportunities for a great deal of long-term emotional strangeness on both their ends, regardless of whether or not romantic chemistry ever gets involved.

And if indeed it does get involved, then what an extra fun little minefield they'll be navigating when the time comes where those strange pains in Cleo's ribs and abdomen sprout at last into something greater...

(Why yes, I am forever snared within the jaws of my fondness for scenarios with thematic similarities to [a] The Shape of Water, and [b] The Fly. Why do you ask?)

what is my;

OVERALL OPINION. 'I would die for [him]. I would kill for [him]. Either way, what bliss.'

[ @viopolis ]

[direwombat]

another wip wednesday another dollar. tagged by the beloved @socially-awkward-skeleton

got a couple things cookin' on the stove, so to start, here's a bit towards the end of katc ch 7 wherein shaw is helping syb escape st francis after her emergency appendectomy. still very rough/unedited (as evident by an instance of brackets) and subject to change but here's something

“Because I made a mistake and now I’m trying to fix it.” He grips her by the shoulders and squeezes them tight. Firmly, he says, “Listen to me: Augustine is alive. You need to find him.”  

In a flash, she grabs him by the collar and drags him towards her. “Where is he?” she snarls -- teeth bared, eyes narrow. She shakes him for good measure. “Where the fuck is he?” 

He lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t know,” he says. “Most likely somewhere in the Valley or Henbane.” 

“So help me, if you lyin’…” She has no idea how she's going to finish that threat -- just that it involves excessive and horrific violence.  

“I’m not! I’m just --” he cuts himself off at the sounds of low chatter and approaching footsteps. “Someone’s coming. Get on the truck. You need to hide. Now!” 

With a harsh shove, her back falls onto the bed of the truck, and her legs are quickly swept into the air as the man lifts the tailgate. She rolls onto her belly and crawls between white boxes bearing the symbol of Eden’s Gate. The motions press and pull at the tender skin of her abdomen, held together by a series of sutures. She bites her tongue to prevent herself from hissing through her teeth. Once she’s nestled herself between two that have been securely strapped down, her rescuer throws a tarp over cargo, further obscuring her from view. 

As he finishes securing the covering, the approaching footsteps come to a halt near the truck. “Brother Shaw,” drawls a feminine voice. The name tickles her brain with a sense of familiarity, but she brushes it aside. She’s had so many fleeting interactions with people in her time as a deputy sheriff. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility this Shaw was one of them. 

“We missed you at the service this evening,” the woman continues. “Is everything alright?” Her light and airy tone is belied by a cruel sneer; spoken like a high school hall monitor with an inflated sense of authority. The unspoken observation and threat are plain as day: You weren’t where you were supposed to be. Do I need to tell the higher ups about this?

“Sister,” Shaw greets curtly. “I may not have been at the chapel, but I had my radio tuned to the same frequency as everyone else. Someone had to make sure the trucks were loaded with supplies to aid in the siege against the sinners held up at the jail.” 

“And was this a direct order from the Herald?” 

“The Deputy butchered my whole squad tonight, Emily,” Shaw says tersely. “Forgive me if I wasn’t in the mood to sing and rejoice in preemptively celebrating the Project's victory.” Sybille’s eyes go wide. Could it be? The same man who’s helped drag her to freedom is the same one who found her at the ranger’s station and brought her here in the first place? “Unless Brother Jacob specifically asked after my absence, then I have nothing more to discuss with you.”

“And if he did?” The woman’s voice pitches higher; her arrogant posturing rapidly crumbles at the slightest challenge.

“Then I will explain myself to him.” 

[A beat]

“You should’ve died with your squad,” Emily sneers. “Only a weakling and a coward would abandon their brothers in arms like that. I don’t even know why the Herald keeps you around. You should have been culled with the rest of ‘em.” 

bonus snippet 1: from a scene that possessed me the other day wherein jacob and syb are stuck in a bunker and they're talking about their daddy issues (and what they want to leave behind/how they want to be remembered). which is to say. this is the closest to therapy they'll ever get <3

"Told myself I'd never end up like my old man. Sooner put a bullet in my head than wind up old and miserable like he was. But shit happens and then suddenly…" [Jacob] trails off, his thumb idly playing with the tab.

"Suddenly you seein' 'im every time you look in the mirror," Sybille supplies. She proceeds to down the rest of her beer. She crushes the can under her palm and lets out a loud belch.

"Yeah," Jacob says lamely, and he does the exact same thing.

She reaches back into the 24-pack of lukewarm bunker beer. "Wanna'nother one?"

"Please."

bonus snippet 2: from the jakesyb bliss-induced-sex fic :)c

“What the fuck is this?”

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked!” [Faith] grins. “I’m doing some…hm, what’s the term for it? R&D?”

“R&D?” Jacob parrots. 

“Yup!” She lifts the leash and waves it in her hand, the motion making the tags on Sybille’s collar jingle. “Doing some testing on a new strain of Bliss. One to store for when we emerge in New Eden. That'll…” she bites her lip, contemplating her words, “...help us repopulate.” 

He comes to an abrupt halt, just out of reach. Faith’s words knock the bluster from him. “What?” 

“I don’t know how to put it more simply, Jacob. It’s a strain of Bliss meant to help encourage procreation.” 

“You’re making an aphrodisiac?” he states dumbly. 

She clicks her tongue and scoffs. “A vulgar way to put it, but yes.”

“And you’ve used the Deputy as a guinea pig.”

“Mm-hm,” she nods, “as one, yes.” 

“And this is a gift to me, how?” 

Faith cocks her head to the side. “Do you not like it?” She frowns. “I dressed her up all nice for you and everything.” 

taglist (opt in/opt out)

@buggknife, @cloudofbutterflies92, @josephseedismyfather, @la-grosse-patate, @tommyarishikages,

@florbelles, @statichvm, @fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook, @harmonyowl,

@ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa, @cassietrn, @confidentandgood, @strafethesesinners,

@trench-rot, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies,

@josephslittledeputy, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @voidika,

@strangefable and anyone else who wants to share a wip today <3

[bi-bard]

Atlantic - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: Atlantic

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Based On: Atlantic

Word Count: 1,124 words

Warning(s): touch aversion, mention of anxiety

Summary: Kaz goes to (Y/n) for help in preparing for the upcoming heist, much to (Y/n)'s confusion. Luckily, all is made clear soon enough.

Author's Note: I find it fascinating how different my perception of this song after just a matter of months.

Part One of "June" [Release Date: 7/3/2023]

Part Three of "June" [Release Date: 7/7/2023]

YEARBOOK - SLEEPING AT LAST WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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Having Kaz show up at my door once was strange.

Having him show up twice was alarming.

It was a few days after I had been taken off of the job. Kaz had kept me largely informed. He told me what they were after and how they were going to travel. I took it all to be a rare act of kindness on his part.

"I thought you were leaving for the job," I said as soon as I opened the door.

"After sunset," he corrected.

"You told me before sunrise. I-"

"You what?"

I held my tongue. He knew what I was going to say.

I had gone to wait for them. I had tried to hide away until it would have been too late for them to turn me away.

"You lied to me," I replied.

"Call it preemptive," he looked to the side. "Are you going to let me in?"

I let out a small huff before stepping to the side for him to walk in. I closed and locked the door behind him.

"I need a favor," he said simply.

"You want me to do you a favor after you just admitted that you lied to me?"

"I wouldn't have needed to lie if I could trust that you weren't going to try to sneak onto the mission."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"

"I need to learn how to dance," he explained. "Properly. It's the only way that Nina and I will be able to make it beyond the main room."

"You want to learn to dance well enough to fool many who have been preparing for these kinds of events their whole lives in a matter of hours... with your hurt leg," I asked. "And you want to do that dance in a room crowded with people with someone that you despised touching your hand for a matter of seconds?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "Yes."

"Is this another attempt at that secret comedy career?"

He just raised an eyebrow at me.

I ran my hands over my face. "Well, forgetting the major flaws with this plan... why not ask Nina to help?"

I saw him tense a bit.

"Kaz-"

"You know more," he cut me off bluntly. I saw how uncomfortable he seemed. "It's a better choice."

I took a moment to let my eyes scan him. "Okay. You'll need a place for your cane."

"Inej is going to meet us and get it back to me."

"I see," I nodded.

I watched him lean the cane against the wall. I had to stop myself from rushing forward to help him as he stepped back toward me. Instead, I waited until he was right in front of me. I held one hand out to him, waiting for him to place his hand in mine.

I watched him take a deep breath as he did so.

I reached up and touched his shoulder, now feeling him tense instead of merely seeing it.

"Are you alright," I asked quietly.

He slowly nodded. "Yes. I'm fine."

I nodded. I felt his hand touch my side. "Still alright?"

"Yes."

"If your movements are subtle enough, no one will even notice the limp," I suggested. "Just... follow me. You're a smart man. I'm sure that you'll get a hand of it."

I expected the entire thing to last a matter of minutes before Kaz decided to step away.

I was wrong.

I was so worried about scaring him. Kaz would never admit to being scared. I knew that. But I could see it. Maybe it was more obvious than he meant for it to be, maybe I had just grown to see it.

The movements were small. Only enough to be noticeable. I didn't want him to hurt himself at all. He probably despised the idea of me being so protective of him, but I couldn't help it. It was a natural consequence of spending so much time with the Crows. I worried about all of them, but with Kaz, it was more intense.

Sometimes I believed that was because of his hatred for people looking out for him.

I don't know when the energy in the room shifted.

Or when we stopped moving.

It was all very tense. But not in the same way that it had been before.

Before it was all anxiety. My fear of upsetting Kaz meeting with his fear of touch, which he would never admit to.

But this new tension wasn't anxiety. Or it wasn't anxiety on its own. It was something much more intense... something deeper.

"Kaz," I muttered after realizing that we were just in front of each other.

He didn't reply.

He stared at me silently.

My eyes nervously fluttered around the different parts of his face while his eyes remained hooked on mine. I felt my skin warming up under his gaze. Saints, it was unfair that he got to have such an obvious impact on me.

I felt his hand move in mine. His hold flexed a bit.

I turned to look at our hands. I assumed that he was uncomfortable. I looked back at him and went to pull my hand back.

I didn't get a chance to do that.

As soon as I went to pull back, Kaz leaned forward. I didn't have a chance to react to his movements before his lips brushed mine. It was only a few seconds at most before he leaned back again. As if he had moved out of some kind of instinct before he suddenly snapped out of whatever state he had been in.

He quickly pulled away from me. His hands dropped from me, his eyes went slightly wide, and he turned away from me entirely.

"Kaz," I said quietly as he went to grab his cane.

"I must go," he replied.

"Wait, Kaz-"

"Goodbye."

He walked out, only stopping to clumsily unlock my door. I had never seen him show any sign of being clumsy before. Not like that.

As the door slammed behind him, I felt a deep breath escape me.

The tension and anxiety hadn't followed him. If anything, they had only amplified.

I closed my eyes.

I couldn't get my thoughts in order. I was scrambling. Through the complete silence around me, it felt like my brain was yelling. I should have gone after him. I should have followed him and made him speak to me then and there.

I couldn't. I couldn't get my feet to move forward at all.

All I could do was stand there and let it all overwhelm me.

And hope that I would get to talk about that moment before Kaz did something very, very stupid.

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Some Original Characters

[wearyeyebrow]

Hidden in Lace

Summary: Diluc internalizes the various roles he's meant to play, but what would it be to listen to his own desires? A night of trying something new turns into an intimate discussion with you. NotSFW leaning but nothing explicit. Tags under the cut.

Tags: lingerie, implied sub Diluc, discussion, implied sex, romance, gn reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort

-

It's late in the evening at the Dawn Winery and you're pouring over your work, holed up in Diluc's study. Diluc's purposeful footfall notifies his return and the clink of china tells you he's refilled your teacup. You sigh and stretch before taking an appreciative sip. He's pulled another tome forward, sifting through the glossary, when his deep voice breaks the silence.

"Your birthday is next month - is there anything you'd like?" 

You hum and mark your place with a finger. "Huh. I can't think of anything… wait-" your eyes light up. "Actually, there is something I want, but only if you're comfortable with it." 

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?" 

"Well... I - you see, I've always wanted to see you in a set of lingerie. Would you mind if I bought you some?"

Diluc pauses for a moment, hand hovering in mid air, "...You want to buy me something for your birthday?" 

"Well that, in and of itself, wouldn't be my present. You'd be allowing me to see you in whatever I buy - that's the gift." 

"But... you could have-" he coughs into his hand and looks askance, "No matter. I can get you something and... also do that for you, if that's what you really want." 

"Really?" You can't completely hide your delight.

He shrugs, attempting to feign nonchalance. "It's hardly fair buying someone else a present for your birthday."

"That means... you don't mind? Wearing what I pick out?" 

"I reserve the right to say no upon seeing it."

"Of course. You're allowed to say no to the whole thing too, you know?" 

He's quick to reassure, a faint smile on his lips. "I know - it was just a reminder for myself."

"Nervous?" 

"...Preemptively unsure, maybe." 

You close your book and set it on the table with a thud. "It's just a fantasy of mine. I love the look of lace and I love what you look like even more. The two go really well together in my mind's eye." 

He cocks an eyebrow, expression incredulous, maybe a little cheeky. "Oh? So you've thought about this before...?"

You smile wide, unabashed. "Indeed - especially when we've been unable to see each other for awhile. You are one of my favorite fantasies." The slight color of his cheeks contrasts with a slightly scandalized expression. "Now that you've tentatively agreed, can I take your measurements?"

-

A few weeks later and you're waiting for him to open the dressing room door, leg bouncing in anticipation. He seemed a little hesitant when you handed him the set but you just know it'll look stunning on him. 

He calls out to you, voice muffled by the dressing room door. "I believe I've managed to put it on, it's... it's a bit... I'm not sure if it suits me." 

"I'll have to see it on to decide whether I agree, right?" 

"...Would it be alright if I come out in slacks, just to start?" 

"Of course - do anything that makes you feel comfortable, and that includes calling it off." 

There's a pause in conversation, and just when you're about to ask if he's okay, the dressing room door creaks open.

Oil lamp light flickers across the wall, lighting up his body as he enters the bedroom. Your breath catches in your chest, and your words die in your throat. 

His slacks are black, pressed well and tight to his thighs. They're held up with a leather belt and silver buckle. They sit low on his hips, just below the tips of his hip bones, and you can see the delicate trail of hair that reaches his navel. The top is made of jet black lace, delicate, but there's some weight to it. The lace has a soft, almost scalloped edge, hugging the curves and concaves of his chest. The fabric drapes over his body, as if it's meant to be there. It's intricate and stunning, embellished with tiny facets of white crystal, catching and shimmering even in the dim light.

He clears his throat at your silence. You try and blink away the sudden fog clouding your mind. 

"Come here, love." You rasp, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice. He does as you ask and you rise to meet him. You drink him in, hands softly sliding against the fabric. His breath hitches at your touch, but he is otherwise silent. You finally find his face after roaming his body with hunger in your eyes. He's flushed a beautiful red, head tilted to the side, avoiding the heaviness of your gaze. 

"Darling," you murmur, and his eyes flicker to your face, "You look stunning. Words rarely fail me, but I am having trouble articulating just how beautiful you look in this." He blushes impossibly red still, slightly overwhelmed, and maybe just... slightly uncomfortable? You pause.

"I guess I've never really asked, even though I've said it lots of times. Do you like it when I call you beautiful? Or would you prefer something else?" 

"I..." he clears his throat, "I am unsure how to respond." You look at him with concern. "It..." he breathes out, and even in the complete privacy of your bedroom he can only manage a whisper. "I do like it. But... I don't feel like I should." 

You gently prompt him to sit on the edge of the bed with you. "Do you wanna talk about it for a bit?" 

He wilts slightly, "I will do my best, but I'm afraid it's - it's quite nonsensical, or rather, it's really not worth any emotional weight." 

"Even so, it seems to weigh on you. Talking about it might help, if you want to."

"But… even now?" He gestures to himself.

"Especially now, if something's bothering you."

He sighs and almost reluctantly sits next to you. "...The piece you picked out is very well made, and it - it fits well." 

You nod. "I got it with you in mind and had it tailored for your measurements." 

"That…" he sighs, still flushed red but now turned inward. "I'm glad, I'm thrilled even-" 

"You don't sound thrilled." 

"Truly I am. It's just hard to acknowledge that to myself."

You soften your voice. "What do you mean?" 

He sighs. "There are certain... images? Ideals might be more accurate, that I have always been meant for, what I should like, how I should act. I feel… like a disappointment, when I find myself unable to live up to those ideals." He sighs again, eyes fixated on the carpet, "The more time I spend with you romantically the more I find myself enjoying every aspect of it, especially those that I am not supposed to like. I… was actually really looking forward to tonight." His voice trails off. 

"Was my request a little too much..? It's okay if it was."

He shakes his head and reflexively kisses your hand, voice low. "No - it's nothing you did, I - I'm just in my head all of the time, so hung up on - on..." his shoulders drop, and he sighs, as if resigned. "I am my own person. I am not beholden to the opinions of others in any other area of my life, and yet... it feels I'm doing something I shouldn't."

"Have you always felt this way when having sex with me?"

"Certainly not."

"Then… do you remember when you started feeling this way?"

"We were both figuring things out in the beginning. You graciously went through the motions with me -"

"It wasn't about being gracious-"

"I know, I'm sorry, that was the wrong way to put it. It's more accurate to say that our courtship began traditionally." He chuckles suddenly, "Well, not completely, you were the one who approached me, for which I am thankful." You squeeze his hand. "But more recently, our - the dynamic has shifted and..." He grimaces, "Whatever the hell that means - gods, the more I say it out loud the more trivial it all sounds." 

Your brow furrows. "But if it's bothering you, it's important."

He sighs. "It just - I want to make sense of why I feel this way. I know that you and I are the only people in our relationship. What we do together is ours and ours alone. Yet I... I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it."

"What, exactly, do you feel like you shouldn't enjoy?" You ask softly, hoping he'll elaborate. 

A gentle shade of red creeps down his neck and he falls onto his back. The bed feels nice and cool against his flushed skin. You shift onto your elbow and give him some time to think. You watch his adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. 

"Even in Mondstadt, the city of freedom, decorum is held in high esteem. There are roles certain people are meant to play, burdens to bear. So I… I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it when we're intimate and I - I don't have to worry about anything, when I don't have to think, I can only be myself, and there's- there's no danger, it's just us." He flushes all the way down his chest and averts his gaze, "When you call me pretty, and you direct me, and you... you praise me for doing as you’ve asked. It - I've never felt…” he tapers off, biting his tongue even in the midst of his confession. “In the back of my mind there's this voice saying that I'm being too much, too needy, I don't know the word for it. Unbecoming, maybe." His eyes flicker back and forth as he gazes at a spot of nothing on the ceiling. "______, you know why I changed the trajectory of my life and why I keep the details under wraps. I feel as though, even when I enjoy something so much, it does not fit the role I'm supposed to play, and therefore I shouldn't enjoy it." He smiles wryly, "Or maybe I'm misjudging the situation. Maybe I'm just awful in bed."

You shift onto your side and rest your head against his stomach, idly tracing your finger over and through the lace on his chest. His skin is warm and your voice is gentle.

"You’re wonderful in bed, but even if you weren't it'd hardly matter, that isn't why I care for you. I'd rather ask, is this how you want to enjoy intimacy?" 

There's a beat of silence. His chest dips with every slow breath he takes. 

"Yes." 

"Me too." You seek out his hand amongst the covers and intertwine your fingers. "I don’t know if this will help but… I've never lived up to my 'potential,' I've rarely been what people have wanted, in vague terms anyway." He frowns but continues to listen, "I've tried, you know, to be what they wanted, but I couldn't even do that - that's when I realized that it's all futile. I'm…' you breathe in deeply, "I'm not going to censor myself for the sake of someone else's ideals or vision of me, especially since it never works, because, no matter what, I always come up short. But with the right people, with you, with others like me, those 'shoulds' matter less and less.” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

You turn and meet his eyes. "To me, you're just Diluc. You're loyal and thoughtful, you care for moral causes and you work too hard. You have my back whether we’re fighting or resting together. I love all of that about you. And I also love you like this, when I call you pretty and your ears turn red, when you look at me like - like I'm… heh." 

You shift up onto your stomach. He feels your tender hands start to run through his hair, separating any snags onto the bedspread below. 

"You're allowed to enjoy yourself and you're allowed to feel pleasure - before anything that you are, you're a person. I don't expect any more of you than what you willingly give." 

He breathes out and sits up slowly, blinking slightly as he adjusts to the dim glow of the oil lamp. His gaze flits between your eyes and his calloused fingers run up and down your arm. His voice is hushed and a little unsure.

"...What if it's still hard to convince myself of those things?"

You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Truthfully, I don't know. I think you deserve the world, but… I'm not sure how you convince yourself. Maybe I'm also looking for the answer to that question." 

You rest your hand against his cheek and he tilts, capturing it with his own to place a reverent kiss to your palm. His eyebrows furrow and he rests his forehead against your intertwined hands.

"I think I've said all I can put into words tonight. Thank you for listening. I have a lot to think about, but I feel more at peace with myself. May I come to you again after I've given it more thought?" 

"You can come to me with anything, anytime." 

"Please know I reserve the same space for you."

His eyes close as you place a gentle kiss to his forehead. He feels you lightly tug at the garment he's wearing. 

"Would you like to save this for another night?" 

He bites his lip, as if he just realized he's still wearing it. 

“I… I did say that I've been looking forward to tonight.”

You smirk, “So you're okay to continue? I hardly know what to do with myself, you just… you look so good in lace, I knew you would.”

He can't meet your eyes but the red tips of his ears give him away.

You run a hand over the fabric. “Do you like it, Diluc?”

“...I do,” he whispers, "Archons I do."

[zero-ek]

A couple of live concerts and some thoughts on them

Howdy!

So there’s been a whole bunch of concerts i wanted to watch very close to one another these past 4 months or so, and originally i was just gonna post my reports as they went. But, due to my computer breaking down after the first one, and also not to spam the feeds of the handful of people who for some reason follow this blog, i figured I’d just wait it out and make it a very big post instead.

I wrote each of these a couple days after they aired, so it’s been very interesting to re-read these and look back stuff i wrote myself that isn't college assignments lol. I mention this often but I’ve got a very poor memory, so i tend to feel disconnected from stuff i did in the past when i see it, like, i have to tell myself “this was me, i wrote/made this” because i don’t usually remember doing it myself.

I don’t know why i haven’t thought of it after all this time but re-reading through these inspired me to start keeping a diary, if i can’t keep my memories in my brain, then paper will do it for me!

Anyhow, that’s enough about me for the time being. This first half be about the Vsinger side of things, while part two will be the utaite concerts, i will number in order if you wanna follow this chronologically though. Starting with:

1. RIM – NEUROMANCE II

It’s Mechi time!

I’m sorry but i absolutely love how RIM’s nickname (d)evolved into just “Mechi”, it’s so silly sounding i love it.

I really don’t talk about this enough but RIM is my favourite Kamitsubaki artist, like, i don’t know how to explain it, but after i think 2 years of listening to her the “i-found-a-new-artist-i like” euphoria still hasn’t worn off. New Romancer is probably the closest thing to a perfect album that I’ve ever heard, none of the songs have gotten old to me even after so long.

That being said, i really haven’t been keeping up with what Kamitsubaki’s been doing ever since i think BudouKAF really, and by extension what RIM has been doing outside of her music releases. So although i was really excited for my first ever RIM solo live, I’m gonna be honest not knowing what the whole Sinka series was about did kinda threw me off a bit.

Also, something else that cut my hype short and that i will preemptively apologize for is that my computer decided it didn’t want to live anymore a couple days after the concert, so i had to make the draft of this post on my phone and by the time i got this thing back not only had most of my post-live excitement worn off already, but the whole situation made me very grumpy. So I’m really sorry if i don’t sound as excited as i should be but i guarantee you that i really did enjoy this live.

Anyways:

Fanfare!

I really didn’t expect it, since I’m much more a fan of her heavier, rock songs, but ever since this track came out on the Singularity Live album it’s been one of my most listened songs of hers for like the whole year. Something that i noticed a lot about New Romancer II is how blends Sasagawa Mao’s quintessential writing and melody phrases with the addictive pop beats, structures and overall structure of more modern J-Pop/Vocaloid music.

It’s like, New Romancer is the album you rock out to, and New Romancer II the album you’ll catch yourself humming to without realizing.

Also also, Cosmic Puppets! I’m so glad it still got one last stage appearance, it’s my favourite of RIM’s designs by far and i don’t think I’ll ever get over it. I’m sure the new one will grow on me but i don’t know, it just doesn’t scream RIM to me as much as this one does. (Future Zero here, the new one still hasn’t grown on me. Team Cosmic Puppets forever!)

Crybaby is my alarm clock, so i actually got a little jumpscared when it came up, lol, especially so early into the concert.

Also, massive appreciation for Kamitsubaki’s in-house engineer, i love how the live sound is so huge, but each instrument is so cleanly separated from each other. I can only imagine how much it shakes you in person, which is to say Neuromance III better be a venue concert PIEDPIPER do you hear me she deserves it!!!!

Now for my single grievance with this concert, is that the simplified-for-live arrangements do take away a bit from the songs a bit. Now don’t get me wrong, i completely get why they do it, this is a 2 hour concert, the musicians need to conserve as much energy as possible. But at the same time, Sasagawa Mao has one of the best senses for rhythm sections that I’ve ever heard, and it’s hard not to feel kinda sad when you don’t get to hear it.

That is to say i really missed that drum groove on the second verse of “The Moon does not...” and I’m a bit salty about it.

First, i gotta say my compliments to Kamitsubaki’s 3d environment team, i do try to keep up with concert live reports when they come out, so i was aware that they were doing some really impressive stuff, but it’s even more impressive to see it for myself.

Also, i feel like the tracking is much better too, her movements look so much more fluid and her face much more expressive compared to like the Singularity live. It does not enter my mind how the heck they’re rendering this live.

I love when they do these little intros for songs it always gives me goosebumps when you catch on the rhythm and key and realize “oh it’s this song” right before it hits.

Also i just complained about the whole live-ification thing but I’m already taking it back my jaw is on the floor at how much Pillow Talk and Neuromance sounded just like they where on the record, actually even better that i could pick each instrument apart. I’m sorry live band i should’ve never doubted you.

Honestly thought there wasn’t gonna be any MCs at all in this live lol girl breathe.

Also look it’s her original hairstyle!

Ok so this is the part where i gotta ask what the heck is going on, currently regretting not doing my homework on the Sinka series I’m so lost.

I love the idea of the discotheque, like just 10 minutes of her running around and vibing, honestly every concert should have something like that. Although i was kinda hoping I’d get to hear Mateki in full in this live but alas you can’t have everything in life.

It’s original outfit RIM!

Guiano!

I gotta be honest, they picked the songs from “Imagine” i listen to the least, but it still always tickles my brain when i hear their voices in unison. Guiano’s lower tones are so clear, it’s almost uncanny how well his voice blends with RIM’s. I would love to hear them together in more harmonically diverse contexts, i bet it’d sound insane.

One of the highlights of the live for me, Eloim was already one of my favourites from NRII, but i think it goes even harder with the live band, like it sounds so much more aggressive with the drum hits, the huge bass and the guitars, it actually got my heart jumping. I am soooooo thankful they put this one on Youtube.

Also also tell me i'm not the only one who thinks that the Counter Clockwise design looks very Gallifreyan.

It’s another Mechi!

Guiano’s “花鳥風月” (i don’t know how the Romaji for this one goes) is probably my favourite work of his ever, and it feels weirdly fulfilling to hear it with both RIM and RIME together, and with a full live band to boot, like, it feels like a natural conclusion to both of their versions of the song, i don’t know how to explain it well.

Also, i don’t know if this is the newer Voicepeak RIME, but i feel like she's tuned much better this time around compared to the Singularity Live.

The second highlight of the live for me, I’m not even sure why, but the visuals here were incredibly captivating, i adore how Kamitsubaki really uses their 3d environments to their fullest potential.

Also, again, how the heck are they rendering this live?

Now to probably the thing that stuck with me the most on this concert.... the talking bit!

So during her last MC she spoke about a lot of stuff from the past 2 years since the first Neuromance, she mainly focused on the topic of plurality, elaborating about people’s perception of her as a Vsinger and how that led her to encounter people very opinionated on it in either direction, and that eventually she came to accept that people are entitled to their own likes and dislikes, and free to be vocal about it, it’s simply a part of life and the human experience.

But something that she spoke that hit me the most was about how much the world had not only changed in these past couple of years since COVID, but it started to move a lot faster than you can sometimes keep up with, this is something that i do struggle with quite a bit. I mention this a lot but i don’t have a really good memory ever since i was like 17 or so, not that it’s deteriorating or anything (i don’t have any diagnoses, really) it’s just that i have a harder time recalling specific things than the average person does.

How this relates to what RIM talked about is that 2020 and early 2021 are particularly blank for me, like, they're particularly hard to recall. A lot of things that i know happened to me in that time period comes from me inferring that it must’ve happened sometime there from like dates and stuff instead of actually recalling how it played out, i imagine there wasn't a lot for me to absorb because of lockdown and being stuck in one place doing the same things over and over for a whole year. I try to be unbothered by it but it can be very hard to ignore the fact that a sizable chunk of my life is just missing.

It goes without saying but that really messes with how you situate yourself in the world, especially considering said world hasn’t been in its best shape since then. I manage, honestly pretty well all things considered, but it’s kinda what i imagine being held back a year in school feels like, not only you’re not up to date with what you should’ve, but you’re also struggling to catch up with your own life and just growing up in general, i know that it’s a common sentiment, especially for us zoomers, to still feel like a teenager while only your body matures, but i feel like for me it’s a little more literal than I’d like.

Speaking of this generation, i think that’s exactly why I’ve been thinking about it so much, RIM is i think only one or two years older than me, and... i don’t know, something about this girl i admire on the other side of the world, in a country totally culturally different than mine, standing in this million-dollar studio, looking directly at me and bringing up something that hits so close to home gave me a sort of weird reality check, like it’s a sign of some sort that i really ought to think about it more.

God dang it i can’t seem to escape the existential dread not even in Vsinger concerts, anyways, for the ending

She then proceeds to sing Eons Whispered after all that talk, i don’t even know what to say because i feel like my mind was somewhere else entirely during this last bit, and the heavenly visuals on this last part just added more to the emotional damage that this whole ending bit was for me

Honestly I’m actually kinda glad this was my first live RIM experience, i looked at the setlist for the first Neuromance after this and as much as i liked the album that came with it, i feel like i got a lot more out of this live than i would’ve from the first one, with having the back and forth between songs from both albums, which as i mentioned, are very sonically distinct.

Although i will say, as much as i love the Kamicity 3D visuals, RIM is definitely one of those singers whose energy gets wasted on virtual concerts. I see some people call her a “gyaru” and i tend to agree, her stage presence just demands a crowd to keep up with her. I know she’ll be at the Yoyogi wars (which i unfortunately won’t be able to watch) but i really feel like she could absolutely own a One Man live by herself. Here’s hoping that comes true sooner than later.

2. SorAZ – First Gravity

I’m really not sure how to start this...

I really feel like i need to preface this but AZKi is probably my single favourite person on this entire planet, like i sincerely and wholeheartedly love her to death, her songs and just her voice in general are irreplaceable to me and even just as a person overall i really look up to her. She hasn’t had a one-man live in i think three years, and it’s been even more time since she’s done one in an actual venue, with a real crowd to cheer her on, so i really need you to understand that i was counting the days until this concert ever since it was announced.

Unfortunately though, i just wasn’t in the headspace to enjoy this concert proper.

Everything for the past few weeks has been absolutely awful for me, my computer decided to break down and it needed a factory reset to get fixed, so i lost a lot of things that i couldn’t backup in time, then i got really sick for like a couple days to just sour my mood even more. But I’d actually gotten over that pretty quickly, i was feeling quite okay until i got served probably the single biggest punch in the gut in years that was Mel’s termination.

I made a post on my initial thoughts on it the day it happened, and i do know there’s been some developments since then, but overall my feelings haven’t changed all that much, that is to say, I’m still a huge mess. And as much as i adore AZKi i just haven’t been in the mood to look at Vstuff in general lately.

I had the ticket already though, so i thought maybe it’d help lift my spirits a lil bit.

(Oh yeah also I’m not sure why but the site says screenshots weren’t allowed, i know people were sharing them on Twitter anyways but i try to be a good girl around these parts. So I’ll use some assorted SorAZ pics instead)

I won’t go song for song, mainly because i feel very exhausted and i don’t feel like typing too much, but also, pretty much the entire setlist was from their new album, Futurity Step. I like that album, i saw someone say somewhere that they’re like “Hololive’s own ClariS” and a truer statement has never been said, it really feels just like a ClariS album. I grew up with ClariS, being a Madoka Child™, they were some of the first concerts i went out of my way to find and watch, i can’t really explain it in any way other than their songs take you into a world of fairy tales when you listen to them, it’s like a unique sort of bubbly, twinkly feeling, like I’m a Precure character or something, i don’t know if there’s a word for it. But the thing is, these aren’t usually the sort of songs that i prefer listening to when I’m feeling down, though, at least not as down as i am right now. I really did want to feel better and excited, but i physically couldn’t bring myself to.

Here’s some highlights i picked out after a couple rewatches.

I’d say Futari Destiny is my favourite song on the album, the melody lines feel the most satisfying to me, and i overall just love a song where the bass goes crazy. I could be just me but i feel like the live setting really helped pick their voices apart, plus, i feel like Sora’s voice sounds a lot sharper, and with a lot more lower harmonics when she sings live, plus the gap with AZKi’s lighter and breathier tones helped make their unison bits sound more interesting in texture.

Which by the way, is one of my few gripes with the album, a lot of their parts are mostly unison, and there isn’t a lot of more interesting vocal harmonies. Which is too bad because like listen to these girls, AZKi is the most beautiful soprano on the face of the Earth, and Sora has as super cool low but piercing quality to her voice, like, songwriters, this is peak harmony material just waiting to be explored! Capitalize on it!

Sora cringing at their scripted MC lines was a mood, also i gotta say you wouldn’t believe that she’s entering her 7th year doing this, she was like a kid introducing themselves at a talent show. It was kinda endearing.

I think what everyone was looking forward to the most was seeing them in their concert dresses together, they made the most out of it but it’s really a shame that the venue’s stage couldn’t do it justice, i feel like songs like "Kimi to Boku..." weren’t as hype as they could’ve been with visuals that could match them. I gotta say, the harmonies in "MAG-NET" were pretty good though, again, i feel like you can appreciate it much more with the less polished nature of live vocals and all.

Probably the biggest highlight for me was “Gamen no Naka...” on AZKi’s solo part, which is a song that really grew on me hard, one because the drums are really awesome (god bless our lord and saviour Wataru Sena), and two, because even though the lyrics are very simplistic and straightforward, i don’t think they’ve ever been truer to me before. I don’t feel like going into detail, but i don’t think there’s any other song in the world that could more accurately describe how I’m feeling right now, towards AZKi, of course, but mainly towards Mel.

I sincerely hope, from the bottom of my heart, that everything goes well for her.

I think i said this before but i think AZKi in her 4th design matches the Bright idol outfit the best out of everyone, but why is her angry face so weird lol.

Skipping to the end, this is probably what got me the most excited, AZKi’s has a one-man and album 3 in the works, which i have been hoping for literal years now, and now that the fanbase is bigger than ever before it does genuinely make me excited to see how far she can go. I know it’s probably daydreaming but i really think, with how much notoriety she’s gotten, that she could perform at like Tokyo Zepp or hell, even Toyosu Pit.

Although, being more realistic, i looked up the venue for Sora’s anni party they announced and it holds only like a couple hundred people, which is surprising, considering she’s, well, the Tokino Sora, but also, i was under the impression that having a label would allow her to go for something much bigger. It could be due to availability or even preference, maybe (i don’t really watch her so i don’t know), but as much as i want to dream big, I’ll try to keep my hopes in moderation for what AZKi has coming up.

All in all, i really wished i could’ve watched this in a better place mentally, like, even with the scuffs and the simple stage, i could tell that they poured all of their heart into their performances. I wholeheartedly wanted to be happier for AZKi, she really is at home on the stage, with an actual audience to interact with, it makes me feel terrible that i couldn’t cheer her on something that she’s probably been waiting so long to do, something that I’ve always wanted to see (minus the Hololive festivals, this is actually my first time seeing her live on a venue).

It’s probably just me drowning in melancholy at the moment, but right now all I’m really hoping for is that nothing goes wrong by the time her solo live comes up, for all i know she could get axed then and there and i don’t want to regret not cheering her own while i still had the chance.

5. Hololive 5th Fes – Capture the Moment

(No keyvis cause i reached the image limit...)

Man, in hindsight, it's pretty cringe, but i've been so negative for pretty much no reason for like the whole month leading up to this concert, yeah absolutely because of Mel, again.

I know that everything’s settled down already and to be fair i had mostly gotten over it myself. But like y’know, she was half the reason i was looking forward to watching this concert to begin with, so i feel that my grumpiness is valid, it’d be surprising if i didn’t get at least a little sulky over her not being there anymore.

I had tickets for the HoloHoney and Stage 3, since Mel is a massive Honeyworks fan, and AZKi was going to show up on both. But since I’ve gotten the HoloHoney ticket mainly for Mel, i decided to just skip it entirely, it just wasn’t worth it for me anymore.

Oh, yeah, I’ll mainly only talk about AZKi (and Suisei) here because they’re the ones i actively follow. I mean no disrespect to the other girls, i just don’t really follow Holo as a whole.

I genuinely cannot shake the impression that AZKi wears the Bright design the absolute best out of everyone I’ve seen, the design just fits her silhouette so perfectly, and the pink highlights match her inner coloured hair beautifully.

I still don’t like "ωNeko" all that much, but i can’t be upset that it’s as popular as it is.

Honorable mention to Mumei’s “Mumei”, i have heard the song before, since it went around quite a bit, and i really liked it, so it was very nice to hear it live.

Another honorable mention to Roboco’s cover of “Boku ga Shinou...”, she’s one of the couple members that i check in on from time to time, she has this unique raspy quality about her singing voice that really tugs at the heartstrings.

Ok, so uh, let’s talk about it, the moment.

(can i just say i'm very proud of this shot they look divine here)

Something that i haven’t seen a lot of people mention is that for quite a while the idea of AZKi and Suisei reuniting seemed like something very unlikely, like, it’s a big part of the reason why it was such of a big deal when AZKi showed up on Suisei’s 500k milestone live (i mean, i remember it, that's really something). By then, it had been a pretty long time since Suisei left INNK (looking it up, it was apparently almost a whole year later), which is pretty universally understood to have been a very rough time for her, so it didn’t seem by that point that they’d ever get together again, i think gen 0 wasn’t a thing yet back then, and AZKi was still pretty much music only as opposed to the more streamer Suisei.

“The Last Frontier” was also extremely heavy hitting when it came out, since just a couple months prior we had learned that AZKi would’ve originally graduated, and as Suisei herself pointed out, it was very much a Swan Song for her. It would’ve pretty much marked the end of their story, and as much of a banger that this song is, it wouldn’t have been a satisfying one at all. Even after they reconnected, they didn’t really get together much, AZKi still being separated from everyone else in INNK, it would’ve been not only the last, but one of the only things these two did together.

(Also also can i just say that it goes extremely underappreciated that AZKi wrote pretty much the whole song? Like, she does lyrics pretty often, but it’s rarer that she actually does the arrangement too, and then she cooks some of the hardest songs to ever grace this planet how frickin awesome is that????)

They sang this song live twice before, and have gotten together a whole lot more since AZKi joined Hololive proper. But it was this moment, right here, that i think was the proper resolution for their whole saga. For AZKi, the song she wrote to someone she thought she couldn’t reach, performed as the grand finale of the festival, on the stage it deserves, that she deserves. And for Suisei, i feel like this was the moment to reach out to AZKi, even more so than their first reunion, to show that none of what they went through was in vain, and that she sees her, that she’s finally properly by her side now.

I could be and probably am wrong about this, but i personally have never seen or don't remember seeing AZKi openly cry before, in fact something that i simultaneously admired and worried about is that for as long as I’ve watched her, she doesn’t ever ”let her guard down”, like she takes breaks extremely rarely, and is always super smiley and in high spirits even things aren’t going super great.

So like, when i saw her actually break down like that, i couldn’t keep it together, i cried so. damn. hard, like genuinely ugly crying, bawling my eyes out and then some, to the point that i felt like a raisin that was left in the sun to dry some more for the whole day, i genuinely believe that i have 床’d the hardest out of any Pioneer alive (fight me Iroha). It was very cathartic tho i do recommend it especially if you’ve been bottling up feelings tangentially related to it and have been grumpy about it for the week.

AZKi is probably the best thing that’s happened to me in these past 5 years, like, i think at this point i can say that she’s a major part of my life and who i am now. There hasn’t been anyone else whose music touched me, comforted me whenever i needed, and inspired me to get on my feet and face life like her music did. There’s no one else who sings like she does, and nothing makes me happier to see her come as far as she did, somewhere that as recently as a year ago I’d never thought it’d be possible. It was just so extremely rewarding to see it, as clear and concrete as it can be, that she made it, that to keep going was the right decision, that she’s achieved something incredible, and that Suisei, the Pioneers, everyone, looks at her with pride.

I’m just so incredibly happy, i can’t put it into words, i couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Watching back the MV after this live, i cannot even begin to tell you how much more complete and fulfilling it feels now. The two of them, looking for each other, but never meeting until the very end. Now, i think more than ever, the last part truly became real, the two of them holding hands, looking at the same sky.

Tonight, Canopus was the brightest star in the sky.

Continues in the next one

[gabbagepatch]

Traveling~ 3-22-2024

I’m currently at home trying to unwind after my grandparent’s fiftieth anniversary party in SC!

I had gone back and forth about going because it’s a six hour drive, including a mountain that always makes my ears pop as we ascend and descend. With vestibular disfunction and a ruptured eardrum I honestly thought I couldn’t handle it.

It was definitely difficult. My vertigo was very bad and I got a migraine about three hours in, I even had a bag handy in case I needed to vomit! My vertigo and migraines have begun to be paired with pretty intense nerve pain as well. It felt like my head and neck were on fire while my head was being crushed. Very painful, and the ibuprofen I had preemptively taken wasn’t doing much to help. There was also a healthy dose of tingling and hot/cold sensations in my hands and feet, plus the classic leg twitches, but that’s not painful just uncomfortable. Despite all that I actually did a lot better than I expected!

During the ride I regretted coming along, I felt like I had doomed myself to 12 combined hours of torture for no reason. Obviously it was too late anyways, but that didn’t stop me from beating myself up for the situation I put myself in.

The entire ordeal came to a climax when we finally got to the hotel room. It’s hard to describe, but when you’ve been moving for a long time and then just stop? It screws everything up. My body threw a tantrum, to say the least. The nerve pain, twitching, nausea, tinnitus, everything kicked into overdrive for the first three hours after the ride.

So that's the negative, but the rest of the trip was super cute and fun! We got the best burgers we've ever had the night we arrived, mine was called the "Clint Beefwood" lol. Afterwards I slept so soundly it's like I was in a coma. Usually sleeping is pretty tough for me given the nerve pain and vertigo, but that night I was out almost immediately. Didn't dream or stir once until I was woken up.

The party had a couple hiccups but we got it set up in time and my grandparents seemed to really enjoy it! The kids (my niece and nephew, my cousins kids, the kids my grandparents adopted, etc) were such a joy. It was so cute watching them run around and play together. I even got to hold my cousins baby for a fair amount of time, couldn't get enough of her. We had attempted to set up a kid's activity table which included some tupper containers filled with rice, plus some spoons and toy trucks. The kids loved it but it was unceremoniously canceled about two hours in because my nephew, the little chaos agent, had discovered how fun it was to dump the rice onto the floor. Cut to me and my sis searching for vacuums and brooms in the venue because the rice was truly everywhere.

I also was unofficially the babysitter during clean-up. It wasn't asked of me but I think everyone appreciated having a break from screaming kids while trying to clean up a big party.

My little chaos agent got a bit upset with me though, after I scolded him for throwing sand at me. My guy chucked some sand right at my chest! I had to grab his little ravioli fist to keep him from launching another attack! I guess he's not used to his auntie being the one to fuss because (cross my heart) I did not even raise my voice and yet that scolding sent him tearily running back towards his momma.

His sister was equally rowdy although a bit more contained. She interrupted my grandparent's toast with a loud "Say happy birthday!!" to everyone's delight. She has gotten so outgoing, demanding everyone's name and hugging people without any hesitation. She used to despise situations like that, now she thrives in them.

The screaming and fluorescents would get overwhelming pretty quickly, but I fended off the vertigo by stepping outside every once in a while. Even with my head I couldn't feel anything but joy, it was so fun.

That evening we went over to my grandparent's house--it was some of the best fun I've had in ages. Just laughing together, it was so idyllic. After 1/3rd of a year marked by medical issues, losing my dog, worry, anxiety? That evening was like a refreshing bath. Full of love and surrounded by great company, I didn't regret coming at all when it was said and done.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.

lol what

I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass

also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go

IIDA ANGST

Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida

meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”

“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still

“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT

yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue

okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol

LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL

“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then

oh, ouch

he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan

by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree

and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez

anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol

OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??

FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent

so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient

mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!

FUCK YEAH

okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?

in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no

oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!

poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol

omg. well that answers that

so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own

BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible

(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.

and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)

by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol

WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR

okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward

dskfjfkk

“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”

actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol

(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)

whoa lol wtf

MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT

-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK

“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao

and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices

poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg

“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS

FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU

THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami

okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces

um excuse me this is fucking awesome

wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk

TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY

WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE

and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji

KAMINARI OMFG

it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice

aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself

do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude

oh shit the mask!!

-- oh shit the feels

o(TヘTo)

fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...

and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance

(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.

incidentally, as @class1akids​ pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)

anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!

“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal

p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked

ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last

okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago

but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once

and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama

and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 8 - END

- Ao3 link -

“You’re not going to like what we’ve decided,” Lao Nie said.

Lan Qiren could have guessed that from the way that the other man had marched into the room and promptly used Lan Qiren’s thigh as a pillow, primarily, Lan Qiren suspected, because he didn’t want to have to look Lan Qiren in the face.

It was a common tactic of his these days. The Nie clan had always been inclined towards tactile behavior and a certain lack of personal boundaries – personal information was too much to share, but apparently bodies were free game – and Lao Nie had very quickly transitioned from embarrassment to taking advantage of his newfound dependency on regular physical contact with Lan Qiren. Much to Lan Qiren’s relief, they had managed, with some experimenting and considerable effort on all parts involved, for Lao Nie to form a bond directly with the jade pendant. Now, as long as he carried the pendant, he was able to be by himself for a shichen or so without experiencing any degradation in his mental state – and that, in turn, enabled them both to separate and allowed them both some measure of privacy.

Unfortunately, after that shichen was over, Lao Nie would begin to become irritable and irrational again, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot as the rage and resentful energy contained now wholly within him, rather than in the jade – in Jiwei, rather – began to need to be excised. Exercise and cultivation with a heavy training saber helped slow the effects, as did Lan Qiren’s musical efforts to calm and clear his mind, but Lao Nie’s cultivation was simply too high for it to last for very long. It was as if half his meridians had vanished overnight and yet he continued to cultivate as he did before; it was as if his dominant arm had been abruptly cut off, and yet he instinctively continued to try to do everything he previously could. He needed his saber to complete even a standard circulation of his qi, and short of suppressing his spiritual energy entirely (another experiment that met with some limited success, getting them another two shichen of time apart if they really needed it, but which was not a long-term solution given the unfortunate side effects), he had to have access to it.

Currently, that access was through Lan Qiren.

“If you’re warning me in advance, I’m quite certain that I won’t like it,” he said mildly, continuing to play uninterrupted. He wasn’t cultivating anything at the moment – the piece he was working on was actually a refinement of the music he’d inadvertently created in his grief at Cangse Sanren’s death, the one that had made his normally very stable nephews burst into tears, and he didn’t want to add spiritual energy to it until he’d worked out exactly how he wanted it to go. He reached an appropriate stopping place, noted down a few revisions to the score, and put his guqin aside. “You should tell me about it regardless.”

Lao Nie exhaled. “Well, good news first – the smiths have finally finished conferring and they’ve concluded that they believe it’s possible to try reforging Jiwei, so they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said. He hadn’t really understood the spiritual weaponsmiths’ reluctance on the subject, but he respected their expertise as craftsmen, just as they respected his as a musician. “Once the saber has been remade, I can reestablish the resonance between them and, in theory, Jiwei should be able to use that pathway to return - and with greater ease, as she would be returning to her more familiar self.”

“Not that easy, unfortunately,” Lao Nie said regretfully. “Jiwei was shattered. To remake the blade, they will need to – for want of a better explanation – melt her down and start entirely afresh. It will be like having a wholly different saber, albeit with the same metal that she’s used to.”

Lan Qiren frowned.

“There, you see the issue. If it’s a new saber, the familiarity will be absent. We will need to work on reestablishing the resonance the way we did with the pendant, and that means –”

“Slowly.” Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. It had taken him years to establish that initial resonance, and knowing how it was done could only reduce the process by so much. “That is indeed a problem. I cannot stay here as long as that would take. In all truth, I am surprised that I have not already been summoned back by my sect…”

“Oh, you have,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “A-Jue burned the letters and told the messengers to fuck off.”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “He did what?!”

“Did we not say? You’ve officially been kidnapped! Well, no, really it’s more of a hostage exchange situation, since they have A-Sang with them…oh, don’t look so horrified, Qiren,” Lao Nie said, starting to laugh. “Your sect elders have indicated that no offense was taken, under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?!” Lan Qiren spluttered a little. “You’re not serious! What circumstances could justify one sect kidnapping another sect’s sect leader, acting or otherwise?!”

Lao Nie stopped laughing, the sound cutting off as if he’d been choked. “Yes, well,” he said, closing his eyes. “That’s the part you���re really not going to like.”

Lan Qiren determinedly prodded at Lao Nie’s shoulder until the other man, grumbling, sat up and took a proper seat so that they could have this discussion face-to-face. Their knees remained touching, which was good enough, and about all that the scoundrel deserved at the moment.

“Explain,” Lan Qiren ordered, and Lao Nie dipped his head into a nod.

“There are several relevant points,” he said crisply, dropping into the familiar pattern of a report. “First, Hanhan has clearly decided that he wants me dead –”

“Must you?” Lan Qiren interjected, even though he had not meant to interrupt.

“Oh, I must.” Lao Nie’s eyes were flinty. “He decided that if he couldn’t have me – and no one said he couldn’t, except his own paranoia – that if he couldn’t, no one could, and I’m not about to forgive him for that, don’t worry. But he’s still my Hanhan, my A-Han, underneath all his madness, and for my own sake, I’m not going to let anyone, whether him or me, forget it. No matter how necessary, some things have to hurt, and to their fullest extent...However, that’s not what’s relevant now. May I continue?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“He wants me dead,” Lao Nie said, resuming his narrative. “Now that he tried once, he may try again, and I currently lack the capability to defend myself – the doctors, and you, have all agreed that I should avoid any excessive use of qi, and fighting a battle with a saber that isn’t Jiwei is a recipe for disaster in the best of times. I can’t exactly swing the pendant around, can I? Moreover, it may take years for us to establish the resonance, re-transfer Jiwei, and for me to re-familiarize myself with the new saber.”

Lan Qiren did not like the way this was going.

“There’s also the matter that I can’t be without physical contact with you for extended periods of time, and you of course have your responsibility to your sect,” Lao Nie continued. “Kidnapping you is, at best, a temporary fix. We will need something more permanent, and your sect elders have already indicated that they won’t let you marry out until your nephews are grown – and obviously we can’t wait that long, even assuming you’d want to marry me.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth.

“Don’t say that you’d be willing to make the sacrifice to marry me, because even if you would, I wouldn’t. Putting aside the fact that you wouldn’t be happy leaving the Cloud Recesses and as much as I adore you, having been married before, I’m quite certain that I only want to marry my lovers, thank you.”

Lan Qiren had, in fact, been about to make an offer just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. They could discuss it at length at a later point.

“In short, the best solution to all of these problems, therefore, appears to be to allow events to play out as Hanhan would have wanted: for me to die.”

“You cannot be serious!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, abruptly furious. “After all the effort we put into saving your life, you would just throw it away?”

Lao Nie held up his hands. “Forgive me, I spoke unwisely – ‘do not take your words lightly’, right?”

Lan Qiren was usually very easily distracted by the mention of the Lan sect rules, but he resisted the temptation and glared.

“I didn’t mean I’d actually die,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Only that that would be the story we put out to the world. The process has already begun – that’s why your sect elders aren’t kicking up a fit about A-Jue being so rude to them about refusing to return you.”

“They think he’s in mourning,” Lan Qiren realized. “Whether actual, or merely preemptive.”

He could see how it might appear that way: Nie Mingjue showing up late in the evening, depositing a shaken and terrified Nie Huaisang, using up all the medical supplies in Lan Qiren’s personal possession, and then asking Lan Qiren to return home with him…

Due to Lan Qiren’s friendship with Lao Nie, Nie Mingjue had grown up especially close to the Lan sect; Lan Qiren had been his teacher, and in the end he was only fifteen, even if most people didn’t know that. Even in a world where Lao Nie could not have been saved, he might have refused to let Lan Qiren go home so quickly, seeking comfort from the sole familial authority, however informally constituted, that he had remaining.

“But Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “If you are supposedly dead, then Mingjue will need to become sect leader.”

Lao Nie grimaced, but nodded.

He’d been right about one thing, at least: Lan Qiren did not like what the Nie sect had decided.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“You know what that will do to him,” he said. He himself knew it better than anyone.

“I do,” Lao Nie confirmed, looking pained. “But it’s the best out of a short list of very bad options. If I stay on as sect leader in my current state, someone will kill me – probably Hanhan, but maybe someone else, one of the many small sects that have ambitions of taking the Nie sect’s place – and if that happens, A-Jue will have to become sect leader in truth, without my support. At least this way, I can act as an advisor, aid him with paperwork…that sort of thing.”

As much as Lan Qiren would have liked to argue, he didn’t have a good rebuttal to that.

Lao Nie’s position within the Nie sect was as secure as anything, and the Nie sect’s position as a Great Sect was nearly as unshakable, but there were always smaller sects looking to see whether that could change. If he were known to be so critically weakened...Wen Ruohan might not even need to kill him personally. He’d just need to wait.

And the rest was true, too. There were many things Lao Nie could do from a distance - his month at the Lan sect had shown that much - and having someone reliable to turn to for advice and hard choices was the ideal sort of transition for a new sect leader.

Still, the sect conferences alone would be horrifying, and those Lao Nie would not be able to aid Nie Mingjue with, even if he could help with all the rest.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t argue against it.

“Moreover, without the bulk of the responsibilities of sect leader on my shoulders, I’ll have more opportunity to focus on healing.”

That was true as well. Lao Nie had been hurt very deeply by Jiwei’s destruction. His cultivation had fallen, his usual cultivation pathway denied to him, his trust in his own mental well-being betrayed…in an ideal world, Lan Qiren would recommend seclusion for a few months, maybe even a year, for him to focus on reestablishing his connection with himself, re-centering his foundation so that he could climb up once more. But for a sect leader, that was impossible.

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, although he made sure by his tone to make clear how much he disapproved. “I understand the basis for your decision.”

“I thought you might.”

“There’s only one flaw I see with your plan.”

“Oh?”

Lan Qiren folded his hands together in front of him. “You still need me, don’t you? Even with the excuse of mourning, Nie Mingjue can only request my presence for so long before the demands of my sect become paramount over their respect for his filial piety and grief.”

“Oh, we’ll let you go back eventually,” Lao Nie said with a shrug. “And I’d go with you.”

Lan Qiren had been expecting that. “And how exactly do you intend to keep the story of your death intact if you’re living with me at the Cloud Recesses? Even if we increase your tolerance such that you can stay home at all times, my home is often visited by my students, including those from other sects – and while there may be a rule against talking behind people’s backs, it is one of the most commonly broken.”

Lao Nie winced in a way that suggested both that he had thought of an answer to that question and also that Lan Qiren was going to hate it.

“Whatever you say, I cannot dislike it more than A-Jue becoming sect leader at fifteen,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Lao Nie said. “Given that to this day you despise the smell of gentians.”

Lan Qiren’s brain came to an abrupt halt.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Qiren…”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good solution,” Lao Nie argued. “No one in your sect goes to that house – most of them don’t even know it exists! It’s within a short walking distance of your home, protected by arrays to enhance silence and protect privacy…”

“I am not locking you in He Kexin’s place!” Lan Qiren bellowed.

“You wouldn’t be locking me anywhere,” Lao Nie said, for once the reasonable and calm one in the face of Lan Qiren’s fury. “I would be going willingly, and I would be free to leave at any time. You’re not your brother, Qiren, and I’m not He Kexin – not least of which because I’m neither capable of nor interested in bearing two sons for you as a means of passing the time.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “A bit of a pity, that. I’m sure they’d be cute.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at him, although the reassurance and humor had helped douse the worst of his terror at the mere idea. Irritatingly, it was a good solution: he had made the trek to He Kexin’s home hundreds of times and no one had ever raised any questions. In the unlikely event that they did so now, he could claim he was merely tending to the garden to maintain it for his nephews; more likely, however, they would simply not notice – the path between the two locations was short and purposefully discrete.

“You’ll need someone to clean the place,” he pointed out. “Even He Kexin had servants, and if you don’t want anyone from the Lan sect finding out about it…”

“I have some servants that are loyal to me personally, and which are not Nie sect disciples,” Lao Nie said. “They can seek employment at the Cloud Recesses on the basis that they didn’t want to remain here after I’d gone – literally true, if you think about it in a certain light. Your sect would snatch them up in a heartbeat.”

They would, too, even without Lan Qiren interfering: properly trained servants who knew how to serve cultivators were a precious commodity that often had to be raised up from a young age or recruited with great caution from the ranks of rogue cultivators, and ones with the skills and experience that came from serving at another Great Sect were even more valued than most. And once they were part of the Cloud Recesses, there would be no difficulty in Lan Qiren adding the task of caring for He Kexin’s house to their list of duties.

“It’s a good plan,” he finally conceded, and Lao Nie sniggered.

“You look as though you’ve bitten into a lemon, Qiren. Did it hurt to say?”

“It hurt to think,” he retorted, and turned back to his guqin. “Will you visit my brother while you’re there? He might enjoy hearing your voice and knowing that you are close.”

Lao Nie had always refused in the past, and he shook his head now. “Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Qiren. Qingheng-jun made his choices.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He makes them again every day,” Lao Nie disagreed. “He may have declared that he would stay in seclusion for the rest of his life to make amends, but that was his decision. He could break his oath and come out, do the right thing, but he doesn’t want to.”

It was an old argument, and an unproductive one. Lan Qiren shook his head, signaling that he would no longer engage.

He had other things to be concerned with, and would for some time. There was helping with Lao Nie’s recovery, creating the new resonance, playing calming music for him, keeping his secret; he would also need to help support Nie Mingjue as much as possible during his transition to sect leader, whether through correspondence and advice or through active intervention during the discussion conferences. He would need to manage his nephews, who he had taught so carefully not to lie, and yet they would need to learn to keep this secret, too.

Taking care of Lao Nie would also be an additional set of duties, on top of being sect leader and being a teacher and being himself, but Lan Qiren didn’t mind it.

It wouldn’t be so bad, actually, now that he thought of it without prejudice. To have someone close by to take tea with in the afternoons when his nephews were too busy and it wasn’t the right time of year for students, someone with whom he could speak on any range of subjects, including his occasional frustrations with his sect, stories about his students, the political troubles of the day – a friend close by, rather than at a distance. Someone who would probably encourage him to take more exercise than he usually did, to try things outside of his comfort zone, someone who would listen to his ideas on music or the rules without judgment, someone who would share his burdens and support him…it would be a little like having a wife, but without all the inconvenient aspects that he so thoroughly disliked.

“It’s not too bad, as such things go,” Lao Nie said, his thoughts clearly moving along a similar line as Lan Qiren’s. “Whatever the world thinks, I’ll be the first Nie sect leader to live to enjoy a retirement, however premature.”

This was true.

“I’ll miss my boys, of course,” Lao Nie added. “But I’ll write, and you can invite A-Sang to your lectures when he’s old enough. A-Jue can come visit you, sect leader to sect leader…I wouldn’t be the first father to only see his children a few times a year.”

“Nie Huaisang will probably fail my classes,” Lan Qiren said, having been acquainted with the individual in question for some time now. A clever child, even very clever, but he was also lazy, hated reciting facts, and was as stubborn as a rock – as stubborn as his father. “You’ll probably have the joy of him for several summers in a row.”

Lao Nie smiled.  

“Well, I can’t say this was what I expected when I wrote to you for help all those years ago,” he joked, leaning down and playing with the jade token that now hung from his belt rather than Lan Qiren’s. Wen Ruohan would probably have a fit if he ever saw it – indeed, Lan Qiren was already looking forward to that day in the future, however distant, where Lao Nie would regain his saber and his former strength and re-emerge to make his feelings on the subject of Wen Ruohan’s actions clear. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“As am I, my friend,” Lan Qiren said. “As am I.”

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

[katzkinder]

Touma and Tsurugi

Aight, so. I have had this post sitting in my drafts for AGES, contemplating whether I should even post it or not, and... I think I will.

Time to talk a bit about what is probably the most controversial character in Servamp, outside of a certain yippee ki-yay motherfucker. I’m partially writing this as part of my own means of moving forward, so forgive me if this seems disjointed or spacey. Unlike my other posts, which are written in one sitting, this one’s going to be strewn together over the course of multiple days. Formatting might be a little wonky too because of that, especially since I haven’t been feeling at 100% these last few days.

Anyway! Let’s hop into it! In usual Kat format, this probably won’t make much sense! Preemptive warning for all the usual stuff that comes parcel and package with Touma and Tsurugi. Child abuse, neglect, PTSD, you know. All that... Fun stuff... Not all of these are mentioned or even implied but... Yeah. Just in case. Under the cut because it is Very Long.

Gonna also preface this by saying that I am not, by any means, excusing Touma’s actions or behavior. I’m taking him to task today and tearing the dude apart because he’s such a well crafted depiction of how abusers can love the people they hurt, and how they can be sympathetic because they are human, while still being awful, and I want more people to appreciate that. You don’t have to like him by any means. Lord knows I don’t.

But it’s also disingenuous to write him off as a villain hellbent on hurting others for the sake of hurting, especially when that’s exactly what he wants people to think of him.

Touma’s cruelty and his stubborn refusal to rely on anyone but himself is absolutely a defense mechanism meant to protect himself from those with seemingly kind intentions. The man grew up in an incredibly abusive household, where physical and emotional abuse was the norm. Like a hedgehog, he spikes himself up, lashes out at those around him with his words, digging into any weak point he can manage to find because if he doesn’t let anyone in, if he keeps the curtains closed shut, he will be safe, he will be safe, no one will ever have the power to hurt him again.

Like, no healthy person acts like that. He wants people to think he’s vile. He wants people to hate him. He’s, in his own words, “a villain with a pedigree.”

And then there’s his relationship with Tsurugi, and how that plays out. Despite how awfully he’s been treated, Tsurugi... Wants to stay with him. Not because he can’t imagine any other way of existing. Oh, he knows it’s there. He can leave any time he wants to. If he gave even the slightest of inklings that he wanted out from under Touma’s thumb... Junichiro and Yumikage would grab him and go. We even see Yumi offer within canon to pay off all of Tsurugi’s debts, which are... The thing tying him to Touma the most, from an outsider’s perspective.

He wants to stay because... Touma is his family. Because if he’s a godawful person who abused the hell out of him... He’s still his savior and someone he cares for deeply. Even when, by all rights, he’d be better off kicking him to the curb.

Truth be told, back when we all thought Touma was dead, I was actually really disappointed in that particular story decision. It seemed like such a copout way to deal with him as a character! Like, having the abuser sacrifice their life to save their victim as one final act of grand redemption and proof that they were a “good person” all along... Fuck off with that! I want Touma to live. I want him to live and grow and become better than he was, but to always know, in the back of his mind, what he has done and who he has hurt and how he made someone he loves suffer.

And I’m glad that we’ve already seen a tiny glimpse of change in him, when he removes Tsurugi’s collar. He sets him free. And that made me so happy.

Going to get a little Too Real with y’all right now, but I... Spent the majority of my formative years in an abusive home. I’ll spare you the details, but my mother and step-father were not... Good people. I met with my mother again when I was 13, and I was ecstatic, because that’s my mom! She was my mom, and I loved her. Less than a year later, though... She vanished. Promised she would only be gone for a year and then... Nothing.

I was fine with that. I was hurt, but I could live with it, because she had already abandoned me before. What I couldn’t forgive, though, what I couldn’t overlook, was her doing that to my little sister. At least, I thought I couldn’t... If I’m honest with myself? I know that, if she ever came back into my life, I’d hug her neck and cry and tell her how much I missed her, and beg her not to leave again.

The story of Touma and Tsurugi... Is one that resonates with me on a very deep, very personal level.

I want Tsurugi to get the happy ending, and the happy family, I know will never be available to me in the form I want it to be.

I want Touma to grow, and to heal, and to overcome the hand life has dealt him and that he felt he had no other choice but to play with.

I could have easily become someone like Touma. Instead I am like Tsurugi, because I had people who loved me and wanted me to thrive despite my circumstances.

I talk a lot about this series, go so in depth with it and its characters, love it and this fandom and the people I have met through it so much because it... Has helped me grow, and it has helped me heal.

Which is fantastic! Because Servamp, at its core, is a story of healing. Of learning to let go of the past and move on towards a brighter future. It doesn't mean you have to forget where you came from... Just that your past doesn’t define you. There's always time to change.

Not even just with Touma and Tsurugi.

With Shuuhei and Sham. With Lust pair. With Lawless. With Kuro. With Sakuya. Even... With Mahiru. Every single time... There's something in their past holding them down and hurting them so terribly... And they can't grow as a person until they deal with it.

Servamp has helped me deal with mine. Thank you so much, everyone.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 115

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,010ish

Summary: Y/N is struggling to cope with everything. (Hopefully this chapter makes sense.)

Needing to get back to Talbot, Coulson took Fitz-Simmons with him, leaving Y/N in the hands of Mack and Yo-Yo, while May started searching for a place where they could keep Y/N safe. Simmons had given Y/N something to help her sleep before she left, allowing Y/N to get some rest. 

Talbot wasn’t happy that Coulson had left him but willingly listened as Coulson and Fitz-Simmons fully explained the situation with Hive and Daisy. As they did so, Talbot’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at the message, unhappy with what he was reading.

“I need you to cut the shit now, Coulson,” Talbot interrupted. “I’ve just been informed that Y/N Rogers is missing. And having not signed the Accords and being enhanced that means she’s a fugitive, like her brother. Where is she?”

“We don’t know,” Coulson quickly lied, holding a steady poker face. “She hasn’t reach out. And if she’s smart, like I believe she is, then she won’t.”

Talbot stepped up into Coulson’s face. “If I find out Rogers here, SHIELD’s done for.”

“She’s not. All cards on the table. Besides, our focus should be on stopping Hive, not searching for Y/N. She wasn’t even apart of the fight in Germany. I saw the footage myself.”

“Okay then, what do you have for stopping him?”

“We’re exploring some options.”

“Options? That’s what you’ve got? You told me this thing could take out an entire planet. I got an option for ya, a preemptive strike. This isn’t a job for SHIELD. This a job for the United States military.”

“You want to make that call? Go ahead. But you’ll probably lose them at ‘devil’.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Talbot signaled for Coulson to not answer that before turning around and sighing. “Wouldn’t tell them the truth.” 

“Even if they could be convinced, by the time we dealt with all their second guessing and red tape, whatever Hive’s planning would already be done.”

“We shouldn’t act without knowing the last piece of the puzzle,” Fitz said. “Hive and his hole-in-the-wall gang recently stole something from an ATCU facility in Indiana. Till we find out where that is…”

“Acting without all the information could make things worse,” Simmons added. “It could be what Hive wants. He was the only thing to survive on that planet, and he survived for a reason.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Talbot asked.

“Trust us,” Coulson replied. 

Fitz’s tablet beeped, causing all of them to come around and look at it.

  “Oh, Daisy’s back in the system,” Fitz stated. “She circumnavigated the anti-subversion code and gained access to Lincoln.” 

Fitz quickly pulled up the feed to Lincoln’s cell. He was seemingly asleep.

“That boy sure sleeps a lot,” Talbot commented.

“Unless…” Fitz muttered, playing with the video.

“It’s a pre-recorded loop,” Simmons stated.

~~~

“I didn’t know we had an Avenger on the team,” Yo-Yo commented as Mack watched over Y/N.

“Yeah…” Mack sighed. “Coulson likes to keep that on the down low. For her safety and ours.”

“When was the last time any of you saw her?”

“It’s been months with no contact. Honestly, I thought she was doing better than this. Guess I was wrong… no one should know how it feels to lose a child. No one.”

Yo-Yo watched Mack carefully. She knew that he was hiding something but wasn’t ready to pry just yet.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” she said. “Do you want anything?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m good.”

She nodded, watching him a little while longer before taking her leave. Mack sighed again before slowly setting his hand on top of hers. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Y/N/N, but I lost a child too,” he said quietly. “Her name was Hope. She lived to be four days old… so I understand a bit of what you’re going through and I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, the base’s emergency alarm started sounding. It was loud enough to break Y/N from her sleep.

“Wh-what’s happen—ing?” She croaked, unable to focus.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Mack said, standing. “But I’ll find out.” He went to leave and that’s when Y/N realized he was the only one in there with her.

“No! Please… don’t go…”

“If the base is in trouble, I have to see if they need help. I’ll be back as soon as I can or send someone for you, alright?” He turned again to leave.

“Mack…” He paused at the door, waiting for her to continue. “What happened to you?”

He sighed as you continued to take in his bruises and arm in a sling. “Daisy happened.”

~~~

Y/N was struggling to stay still, the alarm had just stopped and she wanted to see if her friends were okay. Getting out of bed was the easy part, it was walking that took a lot of her energy. She stumbled out of the room and walked along the walls, leaning into them. Following her gut, Y/N made her way to the common room. There she saw General Talbot, Coulson, Fitz, Lincoln, May, Simmons, Mack, and a new girl standing around the table. She leaned against a pillar, out of sight from the others.

“We knew Daisy was listening and monitoring our every move,” Lincoln explained. “So we couldn’t tell anyone. She had to believe it was all real.”

“I communicated with him by leaving messages on his food trays,” May stated.

“You forgot the message about not hurting his friend,” the new girl said.

“Sorry, Mack,” Lincoln said. “I didn’t have any other option.”

“Mack wasn’t supposed to be there,” May replied, giving him a knowing look.

“Excuse me for doing my job,” Mack said.

“The plan depended on Daisy listening to everything so that she’s trust me and believe that I really wanted out,” Lincoln continued. 

“You had me fooled,” Talbot commented.

“Even though I wanted to, I never trusted Daisy… not under Hive’s control. I knew that she wouldn’t be the one to greet me, no matter what she said.”

“But what about the other risks? Lash could kill Daisy,” Mack stated. “Did you stop to think about that?”

Hive? Lash? Daisy under someone’s control? All of this was confusing Y/N, but really only because she couldn’t really focus fully. Her brain was all a mess.

“It’s a risk we had to take,” Lincoln said. “But he had the opportunity once before, and he let her go. I don’t think he’s meant to kill her.”

“Who put him on the Quinjet?” Talbot asked.

“I did,” May answered, “while Coulson was keeping you distracted.”

“You knew about this?”

“I run a tight ship,” Coulson replied.

“Why do you think this Lash can defeat Hive? And who in tarnation names these things?”

“Every Inhuman is here for a reason and serves a purpose,” Lincoln explained. “I believe Lash’s purpose is to kill Hive.”

“Now, we just wait and see what happens,” Coulson said.

“Right,” Talbot agreed with a nod.

Everyone began heading out. Y/N, too weak to form a portal, slid down the pillar, slowly losing consciousness. She heard footsteps coming towards her.

“Shit,” Mack muttered as he found her like that. “I need a little help over here!”

Everyone, including Talbot raced over.

“Oh my—“

“I thought you said you didn’t know where Y/N was, Coulson?” Talbot said. “You’ve been lying.”

“I’ve had to,” Coulson defended. “Look at her. She’s not a harm to anyone.”

“She needs to be in government custody and to—“

“She needs to be here! She’s been through—going through a trauma. She is staying here.”

“You don’t get to make that call, Coulson.”

“But I do. Because, right now, I’m pretty sure I’m the only family Y/N has left.” 

Fitz lifted her off the ground, with Lincoln and Simmons checking her over. Talbot looked over and watched.

“Do you know what happened?” Talbot asked, eyes not leaving Y/N.

“Not much,” Coulson answered. “Only that she lost her child.” Talbot’s head snapped to look at Coulson. “Y/N was pregnant, but she—“

“Isn’t anymore. I got that.” 

Talbot looked back at Y/N. Fitz was still holding her close as Simmons and Lincoln fretted over her. The rest of them watched Talbot, wondering what he was going to do.

“I only have one kid,” Talbot said. “My wife has had 6 miscarriages…. You can take care of her, but once she’s back to full health, she’s the governments.”

“Let’s get her to the med bay,” Simmons suggested.

They rushed Y/N to the med bay, quickly getting her set up and comfortable there. Coulson took his spot at her side. If Tony, Steve, and Bucky weren’t allowed to be here, he was going to make sure that she knew someone was on her side. Coulson observed her and wondered what could have happened in the last week. There was a light bruise of a handprint on her neck and dark purple bags forming under her eyes. It pained him to think about what she was going through, with the loss of seemingly her whole life.

“We still haven’t heard anything about Daisy,” May stated, entering the part of the lab Y/N and Coulson were in. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Coulson answered, keeping his focus on Y/N, “for now… I keep wondering… what the hell happened? The team fell apart and it left her like this. I don’t know if I want to know exactly what happened.”

“She’ll bounce back. Y/N always does.”

“But what if she doesn’t this time? What if this is the thing that breaks her? She lost her child, May. Then found her way here instead of with Tony or Steve.”

“Y/N knows she’s always welcome here. She was smart to come here.”

“What do you think—“

“Ragtag base, come in,” Daisy’s voice came over the bases PA system. “This is Agent Daisy Johnson… I’m coming home. Repeat… I’m coming home.”

~~~

Coulson ordered two agents to greet Daisy in the hanger and cuff her, just in case. They all, except Y/N, waited at the base’s door to the hanger. When Daisy walked in, they could tell she had been through a lot. She didn’t look well and she was leaning on one of the agents for support.

“Welcome back, Agent Johnson,” Coulson greeted, solemnly. Daisy glanced up, her eyes filling with tears.

“It’s good to see you,” Lincoln said.

She breathed shakily, letting a tear run down her cheek. “Lash died trying to save me,” she stated sadly, unable to look anyone in the face as she said it.

“Did he manage to kill Hive?” Talbot asked. Daisy shook her head.

“Get her to the med bay,” Simmons directed. The agents led her away.

“What if Lash wasn’t here to kill Hive?” Fitz asked.

“He was here to save Daisy,” Lincoln said.

“That wasn’t Lash,” Simmons said. “That was Dr. Garner.”

The group followed after Daisy and the other agents. They watched at Daisy’s steps faltered as she entered the med bay.

“Y/N?” Daisy gasped. “Wh—what happened?”

“You need to sit down,” Simmons directed, guiding her to a separate glass room.

“But… when? I—I didn’t notice….”

“May found her in a closet,” Fitz responded as Daisy sat on the bed and Simmons started working. “She… she, uh…”

“She’s been through a lot,” Simmons said. “She’ll be fine after some heavy rest.” She turned to a lab tech. “Prep for immediate blood transfusion and full cranial scan.”

Outside of the glass room, Coulson, Talbot, Yo-Yo, and Mack were watching.

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Talbot asked. “That she isn’t under Hive’s voodoo spell?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Coulson answered. 

“In the meantime… have a little faith,” Mack added.

~~~

Coulson waited for news about Daisy at Y/N’s side. When the results were back, Simmons called him out into the lab.

“Daisy is completely sway free,” Simmons stated. “Her brain is back to normal. But she is suffering withdrawal symptoms from the effects of the sway. It’ll take some time. She’s resting now, recovering from that and the blood loss, but we do expect a full recovery.”

“Nobody goes in there until I say,” Coulson ordered. “But that’s good news.” He watched Simmons. “I know that look. That means there���s bad news, too. What is it?”

“Dr. Fitz?” She turned to him.

“Well, this is purely hypothetical,” Fitz began, “and there are a lot of unknown variables, but…”

“Based on what Daisy told us about Hive’s new pathogen—“

“We think we know what he plans to do with it.” Fitz pulled up a simulation on the computer. “If he can create some short of shock wave, then Hive could potentially infect a significant percentage of the human race, turning them all into the swayed Primitive Inhumans that Daisy described—“

“If and only if he finds a way to disperse it high enough in the atmosphere.”

“Yeah.”

“He has a way,” Talbot stated quietly. “That thing he stole from the ATCU in Indiana. It was a warhead… a fully operational warhead.”

~~~

Simmons walked into the containment module that was connected to the cell Daisy was being kept in.

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Daisy said quietly.

“I’m here to provide progress updates based on the intel you gave us… nothing more,” Simmons responded.

“And they only send you. Why?”

“If anything I tell you jogs any memories, any pertinent information at all, I'll ask you to divulge.”

“It’s because you’re the only one I didn’t hurt… personally, I mean. That’s why. You and… Y/N. How is she?”

“Have you thought of any new pertinent information?”

Daisy sighed, leaning back into the couch she was sitting on. “As I said, Hive’s followers tell him everything, but he rarely returns the favor. I’m sorry that’s not enough to act on.”

“Well, we are acting on a new lead.” Daisy turned her head to look at Simmons. “We’re located a US missile silo in the Pacific. Seems like a good fit.”

“If that’s where they plan to do it, they’ll be there ahead of you.”

“Yes. The silo’s staff went silent five hours ago.”

“Even if you infiltrate, you can’t shut down the launch… not without government Kill Codes.”

“We are aware."

“Had-delivered by a DOD official. It’s not hackable. You won’t be—“

“We are aware. The only thing you gave us that didn’t pan out was that word. You said he mentioned ‘absolution’. Any idea what he meant?”

Daisy barely shook her head with a shrug. “He thinks he’s the savior…. Just… answer this one question for me, Jemma. Please… how is she?”

Simmons sighed, debating on whether or not to say something. “Y/N… she’s awake, but… she’s not really here. She hasn’t said anything since she woke up. She won’t eat. She just stares off into space and sleeps.”

Daisy stood up and walked over to the windows Simmons was standing at. “No one will tell me what happened.”

“Cause we don’t know the full story… it’s also not our story to tell.”

~~~

Nothing felt right to Y/N. Even just being in her body felt completely awful. And she had no energy, to talk, to eat. She knew that she was being fed through the IV’s connected to her. But, to her, there was nothing left to fight for. Y/N had lost everything… and it was her fault, just as much as it was everyone else’s. At least, that’s what she thought.

She could tell that there was a mission going on, another end of the world scenario. But she didn’t have any more fight left in her. There was nothing left. So Y/N slept and stared off into space, beating herself over the life she knew, the life she lost. She didn’t even know how long it had been since she arrived back at the base and she didn’t care.

The team had captured Hive, but were still tracking down his people. His people were still planning to release a substance over most of the earth to turn people into Inhumans. Every member on the team was busy, but they each made an effort to check in on Y/N every now and then.

“Hey,” Coulson came into the med bay room, “I brought you some things.” He held up a bag, but Y/N didn’t bother looking his way. “Your favorite snacks, a few books I’ve bought but have had no time to read, a tablet for you to whatever you want with.” He set the bag on a table beside her bed before sitting next to her. “Is there anything I can help you with?” No answer.  “Or at least tell me what self deprecating thoughts are running through that brain of yours?” No answer, yet again. “Y/N, this isn’t your fault. Nothing of what happened is your fault. You didn’t—“

“I killed my baby….” Y/N replied, just above a whisper. “How is that not my fault?” She finally turned her head to face him. “My baby’s dead… because of me…”

“That’s not true.” Coulson shook his head. “You were under a lot of stress. More than anyone should—“

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still my fault… I should have tried harder to protect my family…. It’s always my fault…” She turned her head away again.

“Y/N, I need you to listen very carefully. Nothing of what happened to your baby and to the Avengers is all your fault. That’s not out things work… you didn’t force anyone to sign or not sign the Accords. You didn’t force them to fight. That stress was put on you, that’s not your fault.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I wish I could believe you… but, I’m sorry, Phil…. It is my fault.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[morning-softness]

Okay I am super intrigued by Now I can say those three little words 👀👀👀

This is actually the next installment of my JonMartin QPR series! So far we’ve only had Martin’s perspective, so I wanted to do something in Jon’s point of view. I imagine that both as an alloromantic and as someone initially drawn to and now freshly separated from the Eye, Jon would be frustrated and confused trying to navigate a relationship that isn’t clearly defined or easily categorized. Especially when Martin’s own attitude towards his orientation is (as archivistbot put it):

After the ‘boyfriend’ incident in “Are You Calling Me ‘Darling’?”, Jon’s struggling to figure out what expressions of affection are welcome and which ones make Martin uncomfortable, especially since Jon’s already seen that Martin won’t necessarily speak up about it unless Jon notices and pushes him to say what’s wrong. And as Martin hasn’t said “I love you” to Jon since the night be admitted his definition of ‘love’ was a bit different from the standard, Jon decides the phrase is probably off-limits and Martin would be uncomfortable if Jon told him he loved him.

Between the popular headcanon of Jon as neurodivergent and the canonical details of his childhood, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to imagine Jon having rejection sensitivity. And the events of Season 3 and 4 have pretty well established that all the people he’s felt closest too are fully capable of hating him or cutting him off. (Not entirely without reason—Jon definitely made his share of choices that hurt people—but the point is) It’s pretty hard to convince yourself that you won’t end up saying or doing something that makes your friends turn on you or abandon you, when this is in fact an actual thing that has already happened in the past with those exact same people.

So Jon decides his feelings are too much and he needs to tone it down, Martin probably doesn’t want to be burdened with his affections, and overcorrects by starting to preemptively distance himself (not just from Martin but Georgie and Melanie as well—maybe they’re tentatively friends again but he doesn’t want to risk wearing out his welcome with them, either). Until eventually, Martin figures out what’s going on and they finally have a proper talk about their feelings, and their needs and boundaries in a relationship.

Here’s a snippet:

“I love you,” Jon says. Then, with a stricken look, he blurts, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—I know you don’t want—I shouldn’t—”

“Jon,” Martin says slowly, gently laying a hand over his where it’s twisting in the fabric of his trousers. “Why are you sorry that you love me?”

Jon hangs his head. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I know you don’t like the idea of dating, or marriage, and I’m happy with you, with what we have, I am, really. I won’t ask you for something you can’t—or don’t want to—give. It’s not your fault that I can’t get my feelings under control. I know it’s not the right kind of love—it’s too much, too sappy and romantic—that it’s not what you want. And I’m trying, I’ve been trying, to, to tone it down a bit, or keep it to myself at least, because I’d never want to make you uncomfortable, or pressure you into doing anything you don’t want, just because you think I want it.” His lips twist wryly. “But for all that, it slipped out anyway, so I’m sorry.”

[highwaydiamonds]

Um. Excuse me. You had cancer??

Yeah... I mean I guess I really haven't discussed it much on tumblr. I have a little bit, but only in vague ways, or rarely made veiled references in tags.

SO, get a drink, get a snack, because this is a bit of a saga, and you already know I am longwinded at the best of times. I'm going to do like Vizzini said, and go back to the beginning. I hope you're ok I'm making this public Shells, it seems easier to? And I'll put this behind a cut because I really do wax on ( and on).

It's the end of August 2018 and i appear to have gotten some kind cold/respiratory infection. I'm at work the first day of it and it feels like a cold. No big deal. (Also this is all pre-COVID so no I didn't have COVID). The next day I feel really awful, so I call off work, and figure all I need to do is rest and I'll be ok. Turns out, NOPE. The next day I feel worse- now I can tell I have a bit of a fever, my appetite was basically, " eat one baby carrot and my appetite is exhausted." Finally, I get to the point that I am having trouble lying down - as in I am becoming short of breath when I try to lie flat (sorry if I am using the wrong word - lay/lie was always a grammar issue that eluded me.) So, I decide, ok, i will be sensible girl and go get medical attention. But I am stubborn and feel the ER is overreacting, so I go to urgent care. i park in the front row of urgent car parking, but by the time I reach the intake desk I have to put my head down because I am so winded and a bit lightheaded.

They take one look at me and tell me, point blank, "we're getting a squad for you to take you to the ER." I say, " what? no, I don't need that, this is not that big a deal." They counter, " you could barely walk in the door and you you are having significant trouble breathing. We don't have the ability to see you here." So, for the first time in my life I have to go via ambulance from urgent care to a free standing ER.

I get to the ER - where they decide, OK, lady, you're a mess. Let's get some chest x-rays and we're gonna slap some IV fluids and I can't even recall if they immediately put me on IV antibiotics or not. But after two hours there they informed me, " hey.... So, we think you need to go to the hospital-hospital not the freestanding ER." I tell them well you better hand me my laptop ( I'm that bitch who takes the laptop with her juuuuust in case I am stuck in the hospital. you never know.) Because i am not going to a hospital until I figure out if they're in my health plan. I do so and then for the second time in my life, all in one night because sometimes I am an over achiever i guess, I go via ambulance to the hospital.

They admitted me and over the next few/couple/ hours ( it was hard to tell) I progressively felt worse. I had trouble breathing if I didn't sit absolutely straight up, and at that point I hadn't gotten good sleep for around 60 hours or so. Me being me I started to get teary and panicky, because I was so tired and wasn't sure what to do. I called for the nurse and she came in and then within the next half hour your girl got taken down to the ICU. By the time we arrived down in the ICU I was really getting panicky. My mom died in the ICU ( different hospital but still) and I knew the fact they took me down there was no laughing matter. I started to think about, " ok is this what death is like? this isn't what i thought it was going to be - this is panicky and scary and not all white lights and peace."

The next thing I knew - it was two days later, and I woke up intubated. Did you know that you can be conscious and intubated? I did not. I'll speed things up a bit here. I spent a total of 8 days in the ICU - I had one hell of a case of pneumonia, and there were a couple of other diagnoses thrown in ( nope, not cancer. promise, we will get there.) . The nurses I had were AMAZING. I was intubated for about 6 of those 8 days. Then I got weaned off of it. Funniest moment on the ventilator: Physical therapist comes around and says, " Hey let's get you up and walking, you think you can?" I nodded and shrugged my shoulders to try and communicate, " sure, ok!" It went totally fine, but there were nursing students, residents, other doctors and who knows who else looking out of rooms and over desks at the two of us just y'know... *walking down the hall*. I gestured to the people because it was just flipping weird. I had an audience at the exact time NOBODY wants an audience and it confused the hell out of me. PT advised me, " there aren't too many times ventilated patients are ambulatory. You're a bit of a curiosity so people want to see."

Once I got out of the ICU and was put back on a regular floor, I got to meet with other doctors re those other diagnoses I mentioned ( chronic things I just have to manage) I also mentioned that it had been a really long time since I had been to a GYN and as had been noted in the ICU I spotted quite frequently ( I have never, ever in my life been regular period-wise and it just got weirder over time, but I just didn't really consider it. So I asked while they were setting me up with new practitioners ( my previous doctor had retired) too please set me top with a gynecologist.

So I'm out of the hospital by September 10th, 2018. The gyro appointment occurs i want to say by mid- to late September. I go in and meet her and she's lovely. While I'm up on the table she says, " hey let's do all the things and get a uterine biopsy!" I say, " excellent, do the things!" We agree it's likely going to be nothing but hey we're smart people and we will play it safe. Huzzah Gyno visit accomplished! (if I were a gamer I'd make some kind of ladybits achievement unlocked now, but I'm not a gamer.)

Two or so weeks go by - or however long it takes to get those test results back (some of these spans are lost in the mists of time). Dr Boyle calls me and apologizes that the test results that she was sure would be nothing... they are not nothing. Turns out, it's endometrial cancer.

At that point you could have knocked me over with a feather. Shells, I wanted my mom to be there so badly, I can't even express it. She would have understood how I felt - she'd been there with her breast cancer. But at the same time, I was glad she wasn't there? I remember how heartsick my mom was to tell Grandmommy when Mom got cancer. I didn't want my mom to have to hear that news, to worry about that. Dr Boyle advised me that she would be referring me to a good oncologist and i should hear from them in a week or two.

Thus began MRIS and PET scans and ultrasounds, and blood work etc. The oncologist diagnosed that he figured I might be stage three, but it depended on my lymph involvement. It brought back memories of when Mom was diagnosed and when she told me she was stage three. I asked my Dad later, "what does that mean?" He told me, " there are only four stages, so what do you think?" This time around I knew what it meant. So, we put me down for surgery November 9th, 2018. That's two days before my birthday - so I joked that I was getting my cancer out for my birthday - hooray! My best friend actually flew in from texas for my surgery ( my best friend is a SAINT, and I love her more than pearls and rubies.)

Best surgery story from this experience: For my total hysterectomy (uterus and ovaries go sayonara and then also two signal lymph nodes in the chain of nodes on either side of the pelvis to se if there is any lymph complication.) I had to be tilted back - so with my head down to move as many organs away from the uterus etc during the laparoscopic procedure. I knew this going in, However, when I woke up back in my hospital room I looked at Bestie and said, " I hurt in places I didn't expect to hurt. Oh wait. My shoulders hurt because they're not used to being weight bearing, but the procedure was laproscopic - so why the heck does my vagina hurt?" Bestie in one of her best moments ever says, " I know why." I replied, " wait, YOU know why MY vagina hurts?!" She said, " yep. So your surgery was supposed to take 3-3.5 hours ended up taking 5 hours instead. Your uterus was really big. The oncologist told us they need up having to cut it in half to pull it out of you." bestie admitted she joked with the oncologist that it was like I had just birthed a baby, he looked back at her (NOT laughing) and said, " yes, that's basically what she did." I laughed so much at that ( i mean i was also well medicated, but still) I told Bestie, " I had a Uterus! Let's call it George!" ( In retrospect I am disappointed in myself that I misgendered my own uterus, I should have called it Georgina.)

So, after healing from the surgery, by about January of 2019 I started two courses (each with a few rounds) of chemo. First came what the doctors and I called "low-pro" chemo - that we did along with radiation. Honestly, though i was making a heck of a lot more bathroom trips, you wouldn't have generally known I was sick. Most of my coworkers had no idea. I just was a bit more tired than usual. After the low pro rounds - then we moved to the bigger guns. Radiation was done but I moved to more significant chemo drugs, This wasn't because things were bad - this was the plan all along :) But I knew the "high-pro" chemo was going to make me lose my hair. THAT was a psychic struggle. I cried so much knowing that was going to happen. I got hats and caps and I even got a very nice wig. I mean, I planned as much as a girl can plan when she hears that news. I even preemptively cut my long hair. It was about half way down my back at that point. So I went in and asked the stylist please braid it and put it in between two hair ties - and then cut it - so i could keep my braid. I couldn't do locks of love anyway as it was colored, and I know it's selfish, but I wanted my hair. So, the hair went from half down my back to a face framing bob. then I just waited. And then in a few weeks it happened. I could put my hands through my hair and easily, painlessly pull it out. I am not a cute bald girl. That's when people KNOW you have something going on.

I was very lucky though, there ended up NOT being lymph involvement, and even the high pro chemo didn't make me nauseous or lose appetite. I did have HORRIBLE bone pain usually the first week after chemo ( i'd get it every three weeks). I learned a hell of a lot from that. I also was able to get some meds to help alleviate it a bit, and I took time from work when the pain was at its worst. But I have never experienced pain like that - where no matter what I did - no position changes helped. Even ice packs or heat pads didn't help or do much. It was just a waiting game, a painful waiting game. Oh also - I learned that IV benadryl is nothing like oral benadryl. IV benadryl is like walking right into a brick wall made of sleep. That stuff knocked me the hell out right quick - amazing.

Right before COVID started and the world shut down I got the flu because my immune system was in the toilet- and so I spent another week in the hospital and except for the bone pain that comes with chemo, you know what is worse than chemo injections? POTASSIUM injections. Among other things, my potassium levels were low and so I got those injections with other meds. Those suckers HURT. they BURN, and so i spent a week in the hospital only to eventually come out and find out the world was starting to shut down from COVID. Not my job at that point, but my oncologist told me, " GO HOME - YOU KNOW YOU ARE IMMUNO COMPROMISED - DON'T STAY AT WORK." So, I went home until about a month after I finished chemo.

Since finishing chemo it's been about scans, which have gone ok so far... I'm not willing to talk about the R word. I just think I'll have to be careful the rest of my life - My mom always said, "once you've gotten cancer, you always have cancer." So, maybe it's the anxiety talking, but it's kind of like waiting for the other cancer shoe to drop. In the mean time though, it's business as usual - try to find good stuff in the midst of the hot mess. Cancer has been a crisis but not a reason to lose my sense of humor. I've needed it more than ever :)

So, sorry for the SERIOUSLY LONG ASS answer, but sometimes it's just better to lay it bare. I'm not ashamed of this stuff. It's been a lot. It's been a journey... It still is... it's part of the rest of my journey, which i hope isn't over by a long shot yet. I don't believe things happen for reasons - the world is WAY too absurd for that in my opinion, BUT good gravy have i been able to learn so much from this whole three ring circus. I'm not grateful for cancer, but I am grateful for the lessons.

Thanks for checking in, Shells. You're a complete sweetheart.

[echochamberdean]

An Analysis of Cas’s Character: Destiel Edition

As I am sitting in my bed, eating a ham and cheddar croissant despite claiming to be pescatarian, though never quite cutting it, a thought (hard to come by these days) occurred to me. Cas, assuming preemptively that he and Dean are a thing (because they ARE), would absolutely have confidence issues and would constantly need reassurance. I asked myself what prompted this very random but very welcome thought and immediately felt multiple scenes of Supernatural fly around in my brain like a bad card shuffle and they all spelled out: CAS IS INSECURE. So, in an attempt to get this idea out of my mind and onto the internet for anyone to see, I’m writing an analysis on Cas’s character with multiple pieces to back it up because, trust me, there are multiple.

Let’s begin at the beginning, which we all know lies at the hands of episode 1 of season 4. We won’t exactly be starting there, so let’s fast forward a bit to episode 18 of the same season, a bit of a long stretch of time, I know, but hear me out. In this scene:

And many more after it, like later in episode 22 when Dean is almost forced to say yes to Michael for the first time and Dean convinces Cas to help him (which is very much a rebel against heaven and the angels). It should also be noted that in this scene and the one above, Dean is the one who reminds him of his love for humanity. Side note, the reason I’m straying from the word convince is because Cas doesn’t need convincing. Cas, I’m assuming, has already strayed from the path chosen for him. He’s “the angel off the line with a crack in his chassis”, the only version of himself that never did what he was told. So, we can assume that Cas has rebelled or at least strayed from orders long before he ever met Dean. The point here is Cas knows this. When that angel in episode 21 of season 7 that I can’t, for the life of me, remember the name of, tells Dean, “the very touch of you corrupts” it’s almost like a mother blaming their child’s friend for changing them or making them act a certain way when, really, they were like that the whole time. Cas knows he’s naturally inclined to rebel, naturally curious. That’s why he’s so apathetic and conditioned to serve in the first few episodes of season 4, he feels guilt and shame for feeling things. The one purpose he has as an angel is to obey, and he can’t even do that. He knows that Dean isn’t the reason for him being a rebel angel, however the love for Dean blossoms because no one has ever thanked him for it. In the gif of the scene above, Dean thanks Cas for helping him, for rebelling. In all of his millennium of existence all he ever got for straying from the norm, from being himself was punished, and now, suddenly, this very pretty man who saves people almost every day is thanking him for it and oh god has he always had such dreamy freckles and twinkling eyes??

General point here being, Cas is seen as a fuck up, believes himself to be one, “the self-hating angel of Thursday” as Chuck describes him, and Dean is the only one, at least to begin with, who praises him for it, encourages him even. Love naturally ensues.

Now, it can be argued that Dean’s love develops much later or soon after, the conclusion remains the same: they both end up pining for each other.

Much later in the series, specifically after Mary’s death, at the start of Dean’s mad wife phase, Dean does the very thing the angels did at the very beginning of their story. He begins to resent Cas for rebelling/going against the plan. Now, we all know Cas has never had anything but good intentions, but we also know Dean gets mean when he’s angry. And so, the famous break up scene entails with Dean’s, “Why does that something [the thing that goes wrong] always seem to be you.” Cas’s face directly after Dean says this is just fucking heartbreaking. Here’s the gif for good measure:

This look is one of devastation. A look of, ‘of all the people to ever say this to me, I never thought it would be you.’ And so, once again, he becomes a fuck up. He’s reminded of all the times he’s ever messed up, rebelled, didn’t just follow the plan, and he goes from a worthy, good-doing Winchester ally back to the ‘self-hating’ angel of Thursday. He’s so intent on doing the right thing all the time and always seems to make the wrong choices and now the person he loves the most punishes him emotionally for it. I don’t say recognizes because Dean’s always given him the benefit of the doubt. Cas knows this, he even says it in this very scene. But now he’s lost Dean’s trust. It fucking sucks.

We see only moments later in the same scene that Dean immediately regrets what he said. He likely thinks: “Shit. I just used something I know he’s insecure about against him. I’m such a douche right now.” And he even apologizes for it later in purgatory (still cry every time).

This leads us up to now. Cas has confessed his love; Dean absolutely reciprocates because you just don’t give platonic friends personal mixtapes with songs your parents fell in love to. I firmly believe, context considered, Cas is the one constantly needing affirmation:

“Are you mad at me?”

“Are we okay?”

“Am I doing good?”

Anyway, we’ve come to the end of my over analyzation of this strangely specific topic, and I’m just glad to get it off of my chest. I’ve literally been thinking about this for so long. In celebration of Dean and Cas’s roadhouse wedding, lets just all hope Cas doesn’t have a mental breakdown over the color of the flowers at the reception tables and can rest assured knowing Dean doesn’t give a damn what color anything is at their wedding, he’s just happy they’re together.

Gif Credit:

gif 1 . . . @softjensen​​

gif 2 . . . @destielette​

[thefoodwiththedood]

"Good Guys"

Here's another story from a bit ago, this time about Hatou and Eobea going on a diplomatic mission to Darkon III, and Hatou making a new friend! This is sort of a continuation of my stories "Strategy" and "Rising Phoenix," so for more context, you could read those first. Either way, let me know what y'all think of this!

Characters: Hatou Koros, Princess Eobea Xovrada, Oesta Varg, Chieftain Haeris Varg & Khosti Varg (who belong to @kaminoanbat)

Setting: 21 BBY, Darkon III

Word Count: ~2,300

“Must we do this?” Eobea whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the trumpets announcing her arrival. Her own procession was rather small, compared to the reception she’d been given: All around the walled courtyard of the palatial fortress where they’d landed, Mandalorian warriors stood at attention, their freshly-polished armor gleaming in the sun. At the end of the courtyard opposite her stood two more Mandos, an adult and a child, with their helmets at their sides and their own entourage at their backs. “I thought visits like this were reserved for planets with some…value to us”

Before Hatou answered, he held out his elbow, and her mechanical forearm hooked itself in the crook of it. “We’re here to encourage the people that Iridonia is with them, same as always,” he said as the two of them walked, “the Darkonan clans are good people, and even better warriors—if we can convince Clan Varg to join forces with us, the other clans will follow, and they could help us defend the other colonies from Separatist attacks''

“I can always rely on you to be optimistic, can’t I,” Eobea smiled,but the disdain was still palpable in her voice. “Maybe it’s just my ancestors talking—the ones who were murdered when the Mandalorians occupied Iridonia, you remember them—but I’m not so quick to trust. As I far as I know, Darkon III might just be the final holdout of those same invaders"

Thankfully, Eobea had said the last part just before coming into earshot of the Darkonan chieftain ahead of them. “Have faith, Princess,” Hatou reassured her, choosing his words carefully now that he could be heard, “It’s possible we may find some life-long allies today”

At the end of their long walk, Hatou and Eobea came face-to-face with a tall, middle-aged Zabrak clad in regal yet battle-worn armor. “It is an honor,” he began in accented Basic, his voice a strong, baritone rumble, “to welcome you to Darkon III, Princess Eobea. I am Haeris Varg of Clan Varg, Chieftain of the Darkonan Clans, and,” he paused only briefly, as he and the child at his side bowed respectfully, “your humble servant for as long as we may host you”

Eobea gave one final look to Hatou, before clearing her throat and replying. “You are very kind, Chieftain. I look forward to my stay here,” she lied, “and I look forward to discussing business—my father has assured me that you will be most indispensable allies''

“We always endeavor to be,” Haeris smiled—it could have been genuine enthusiasm behind that smile, or it could be as much of a put-on as Eobea’s. Neither she nor Hatou knew him well enough to tell, but they both wondered about it. “Ah, but in the meantime, allow me to introduce my family; this is my son, Khosti,” he swept an arm over the child at his side, and Khosti bowed once again. The boy was awfully mechanical in his movements, and he didn’t dare make eye contact with the Princess—clearly, he’d rehearsed this, or his father had made him. “And,” Haeris sighed, “though she’s running fashionably late, there’s also—

A sudden, roaring sound cut Haeris off mid-thought, and everyone in the courtyard looked up to see its source. A lone Mandalorian warrior rocketed across the sky, only to then circle back and finally stop just above Hatou, Eobea, and the Chieftain. Hovering in the air for only a second longer, she cut the engine in her rocket pack, falling several feet and hitting the ground on one knee. She rose to her feet slowly, removing her helmet and revealing the big, toothy grin she’d rode in with. “Hey, dad,” she spoke, tucking her helmet under her arm as she turned to face the Chieftain, “Sorry I was out, thought I’d take the scenic route back here. What’s…” she trailed off, apparently just noticing Hatou, Eobea, and the amount of people there in the courtyard with them. She studied Eobea in particular, her smile fading as she looked her up and down. “What’s with the Iridonians?”

“Oesta, please,” Haeris seethed, calling her attention back to him. He gave her a single, stern look, and she scowled back at him before relenting and taking her place at his right side. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Oesta,” Haeris said again, this time introducing her to Hatou and Eobea, “is my eldest daughter, and will one day inherit my throne—if she can ever learn how a leader ought to act” Oesta rolled her eyes in response, before continuing to silently size up the Princess and her bodyguard.

If the mere prospect of working with Mandalorians wasn’t enough to sour Eobea’s view of this planet, the sheer disrespect from the Chieftain’s daughter might be. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eobea lied again, trying and failing to mask her feelings, smiling so fleetingly she was bordering on curtness.

“Perhaps,” Hatou chimed in, rescuing Eobea preemptively from what surely would have been a long, uncomfortable silence, “I should take the Princess to her accommodations—allow us time to settle in, before our negotiations begin” He surreptitiously took her hand, and he could feel her relax slightly as their fingers interwove.

Haeris cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, please do—if you’d follow me inside, someone will show you to your rooms”

Hatou nodded, once again hooking Eobea’s elbow in his. The two of them followed the trio of Vargs and their entourage as they turned towards the large fortress, and Hatou almost caught Oesta studying him over her shoulder as they walked inside.

. . .

Hours later, Hatou found himself quietly slipping outside, sighing in relief as the brisk evening air hit his face. Even better than the air was the peace and quiet; to everyone’s surprise, Eobea’s opinions on the Darkonans began to sweeten over the course of the evening, and now she was happily—not to mention drunkenly, and loudly—wining-and-dining with the Vargs’ most senior clansmen. Hatou himself couldn’t partake, of course. His duties to the princess came first, and he needed to keep his wits about him. So, here he stood: a balcony overlooking the sea, lit by the light of Darkon III’s moons, leaning back against a railing and watching his charge through the giant glass door. She was having fun, clearly. That much made him happy.

“Hey” a voice suddenly spoke up to Hatou’s right, and he jumped in shock. He instinctively reached for his sword, but, upon turning to see the voice’s owner, he relaxed. It was just the Chieftain’s daughter—Oesta, if he remembered right—resting on the railing in the opposite corner of the balcony, looking at him with a sort of half-smile. Two drinks, one full and one half-full, were sitting on the wall at her side, evidently brought out from inside some time ago. “This kinda party ain’t your speed, huh?”

Hatou took a breath before answering, removing his helmet and holding it at his side. “No, not exactly,” he admitted, “And you?”

She smiled. “Not tonight. Kinda dreading having to talk to my dad after this morning, in the courtyard. Here, wanna drink? I was gonna have both myself but, now that you’re here,” she slid the full mug towards him, but with a small wave of his hand he refused it. “Yeah,” she continued, “Best to let him get all boozed up to soften that blow, y’know how dads are”

“Actually, I don’t,” he responded, “we’re very close, my father and I, we almost never fight”

Oesta raised an eyebrow, and her smile faded slightly. “Lucky you”

“I…” Hatou stuttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Must be nice,” she continued, interrupting him, “to be born into a thriving empire, to a parent who likes you just how you are, and to get to serve your planet’s royalty, that’s—”

“Iridia” Hatou interjected, interrupting her in turn. “I’m from Iridia, not Iridonia”

“...Oh” Oesta paused for a moment, silently retracting most of her prejudgements. “What’s the difference?”

“Iridia’s its own planet, a former colony just like Darkon,” Hatou said, his tone softening. In spite of his previous reservations, he decided to take the drink she’d offered him after all, and he paused to take a sip. “It’s beautiful, but not in the same ways as Iridonia. It has natural beauty, I guess. You go there, and it just feels warm and welcoming, like the planet itself wants to nurture you and take care of you. It’s motherly, in a way”

“Motherly…” Oesta replied, the word lingering on her lips a little longer than she’d meant it to. “It sounds nice. But then, if you’re from a colony, how’d you end up with...y’know…” she gestured towards the glass door, and the half-in-the-bag Princess seated inside.

Hatou smiled, unabashedly proud of what he was about to say. “Emperor Stotrau saw great potential in me, he said so himself. He needed a bodyguard for his daughter, and I was the best candidate, from Iridonia or otherwise. It’s a great honor”

“I’ll bet,” she said, her lips curling into a wry smile. “So, does he know you’re banging his daughter yet?”

Hatou, who was in the middle of taking another swig, nearly choked. Oesta tried and failed to stifle a laugh as he coughed, and it was several seconds before he even tried to speak. “I...we...well, see...who told you?”

“Well you did, just now” Oesta chuckled, earning a groan from Hatou as he realized his mistake. “I saw you two out in the courtyard, the way you calmed her down. Seems like she trusts you”

With a sigh, Hatou shook his head and smiled. No use denying it now. “The princess...Eobea...we were friends long before we ever, well...I don’t know, it just kind of happened” He felt himself blushing now, and moreso, he felt Oesta’s gaze on him. He turned away, just to spare himself a little embarrassment.

“No need to justify it, man, I get it—it’s your job to protect her 'round the clock, you two’re bound to get close like that,” Oesta smiled, taking another sip herself, “She’s cute, too. Total catch”

“It’s more than just physical” Hatou hadn’t quite meant to say that, but he couldn’t help justifying himself here. This was a talk he’d rehearsed many times, in preparation for the day when someone found out, when someone would question how a relationship between an Iridonian princess and a lowly soldier from the Colonies could ever work. Explaining it to a nosy Mandalorian was never in the plan, but oh well. “I mean...she values my company, and I enjoy seeing her happy. Every day I watch the stress she’s put under, the way she’s underestimated and put down, even by those who mean well. But she’s ambitious, smart, driven, more than any of them see. I want to help her succeed. I want to be there for her through good and bad times, and share in her triumphs. I don’t want her to be alone at the top, when she inevitably gets there”

Oesta’s smile faded as she listened, alternatively glancing at him, and through the window at the princess herself. “You’re really devoted to her, huh” she finally said, her tone an equal mixture of intrigue and confusion, with just a pinch of concern. “Does she feel the same way about you? Wanting you to succeed and everything?”

“Yes. Maybe. Well,” Hatou paused, considering the question. “I’ve never talked about this with her, not really. In our private moments, we’re more focused on...well... “

“Just having fun?” Oesta smirked, and in spite of himself Hatou smiled back at her. In the back of his mind, though, he was worried. He found himself mulling over that question in silence for a few moments—does she feel the same way about you? “I hope she does” Oesta spoke up, as if reading his mind. “You seem like you have a lot of love to give. Only fair for you to be with someone who gives it back”

“Yeah?” Hatou found himself looking at Oesta now, even as she was staring down into her drink. No one had said that to him before. Not even Eobea.

“Yeah” she looked up at him, their eyes meeting for the first time that night. “You’re a good guy. The galaxy needs good guys” Their eye contact held for all of five seconds, and when those five seconds passed, they both got the same feeling: either they looked away right then, or this night was going to take a new, serious, and probably wrong turn. They chose the former.

After another brief silence, spent largely with the two of them feigning great interest in opposite sides of the ocean view, Hatou regained his composure a little. “Thank you,” he finally said, “You’re very kind” Oesta responded with a barely audible mumble, which could have been anything from ‘You’re welcome’ to ‘Yeah, whatever’ to simply ‘mhm’, but whose sentiment was clear enough. Another, much longer silence followed, before Hatou finally downed the rest of his drink, sighed, and re-donned his helmet. “I...should probably get back inside, see how the princess is doing”

“Yeah...yeah, sure” Oesta muttered, re-donning her own helmet, mostly just as something to do. “Nice meeting you. Good luck with your lady, Sir...uh…”

“Hatou,” he finished. “Hatou Koros. And you’re—”

“Oesta...yeah” she said, the smile evident in her tone despite being hidden behind her helmet. Hatou had heard her name before, in the courtyard, but only from her father and only to scold her. Now, from her, the name sounded as it was meant to: strong, stable, and really kind of pretty. Even as Hatou was thinking this, Oesta was climbing up onto the balcony’s wall—and before he even registered that. she was hovering in the air with her jet pack. “See you around, Hatou” she said, rocketing away with the cold, seaborne wind. He watched her go, waving halfheartedly before sighing, standing up straight, and rejoining the party.

[terracottaalchemist]

Merry Christmas @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers !!

I'm a little rusty with my writing but I hope you like it! Happy Squealing Santa

Special thanks to @ticklygiggles for organizing everything❤️

🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄

The Grand Highblood was a name that churned every sane troll's stomach. Ruthless, unpredictable, purple blood twisted inside him, cold, fueling a strength only rivaled by the Royal seadwellers. Signless could deal with the cruelty of the Empress, handle the attacks from his voilet oppressors, but not this. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Signless tugged once again at the sharp, iron cuffs on his hands, thick and noisy in the silent cell. He had always known that one day his luck would run out, that he would finally be captured, but there was gratitude in his heart that the subjugglers left his friends and followers alone. So long as he kept quiet, he would be executed with the knowledge of where Dolarosa, Deciple, and Psiioniic were going safely tucked in his soul.

His feet were bound in frigid chains, sharp on the bones of his ankles. A small light shone overhead, enough to glint off the rusted bars, but not the concrete floor. He could see every exhale curl through the air in white smoke. So cold.

At the very least, Signless could hear every time the guard came within 20 meters of his cell from the sheer weight of his leather footsteps. His stomach gurgled for more of the grub paste he'd been given yesterday, but his tongue prickled preemptively with the phantom taste of bitter acid and bile. The guard stepped into view behind the row of bars, but there was no grub paste. Just keys as they jangled around the lock on the door, which opened with a piercing whine. The guard grunted, motioning with his hand to come closer, clutching a familiar black cloth.

Two guards, ahead and behind him, led Signless through the halls on two chain leashes. The blindfold was tied tightly to his face, forcing his focus to the tiles under his bare soles, the rough material of the unwashed trousers he was given, and the chains. As they climbed an oak staircase, the temperate rose to a more comfortable chill. Signless sighed, but chokes on a sudden, harsh tug backwards. They stopped. A hard knock rang against wood close to his head, but he couldn't move away if he tried. The door opened with a dull click and Signless was lead inside.

Living all his life as a renegade, Signless considered his senses to be rather sharp. But he was preoccupied with the chains on his wrists being pulled over his head so harshly that his heels barely brushed the floor. Far too preoccupied to hear the even more massive boots against the floor until they were far too close.

"That's enough, motherfucker."

That voice. Everyone knew that voice. Signless shifted his weight back, but the chain holding him up was taut and heavy. He hung there, swaying, like an oink beast carcass.

The blindfold was yanked down to his neck, colours and lights striking his mutated eyes. Signless blinked into focus, and took in the sheer sight that was The Grand Highblood. Doubling Signless' height, his wild hair framed his shoulders and wavy horns, adding even more height. Blood-curling, white paint stuck to his face, applied with careful detail to resemble the teeth of a deep-sea horror. With a sway in his step, The Grand Highblood began circling around his prized prisoner.

"You're real fuckin' short, aren't you?"

Signless turned to look at him, but kept his mouth shut. There is only one reason to keep a troll like himself alive, after all, even if it's only for the time being. He would not crack. He couldn't. A sharp slap cut across his cheek, the mark flushing an offensive red. Signless hadn't even see him move.

"Let's make one thing motherfucking clear," Grand Highblood spat. "When I ask you a question, you best give me an answer. Understand?"

Signless licked his lips, his jaw pulsing from the single, half-hazard strike. "Yes."

"Good." He pulled the blindfold back up with a single claw, this time allowing more light to seep through. There was a snap of fingers, a grunt of acknowledgment, and the rough scraping of wood on stone as some sort of furniture was dragged closer, just out of Signless' kicking range.

"Now then, let's not waste any more motherfucking god damn time." The three seconds of silence stretch between them, tensing like a rubber band until it snaps around the Grand Highblood's words. "Where are your apostles?"

Signless gripped back his displays of relief. His friends had not been found, nor will they be without his help. He was the only one on Alternia that knew where they were, and he swore to keep it that way, regardless of the cost.

"Maybe you didn't hear me." He circled again, but much slower, coming to a stop directly behind Signless. "Shit, I'm feeling downright merciful today, so I'll repeat myself one more motherfucking time. Where are your fucking apostles, mutant?"

Signless forced down a shiver, tugging gently at his wrists one more time. Not a chance.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Now I get to have me some motherfucking entertainment!"

Sharp, unkept nails skittered up his defenceless sides, forcing a surprised giggle from the preacher's lips. What on Alternia?

"Honk! Look how sensitive you are! Your skin is even weaker than that of a Rustie, already turning red. What a motherfucking miracle! It must be my hatching day all up in this bitch!"

Signless squirmed, feeling 1000 times more exposed than he did before. Every memory of being tickled absolutely senseless flashed through his eyes, each filled with more tears than the last. Psi had been his most common assaulter. On the bright side, no bodily harm would come to him this way. He just had to bear it until he finds a way to escape, and said escape won't be hindered by serious inquiries. A slight grin tugged at his lips as he clenched his jaw. A little tickling never killed anyone.

Without warning, two pairs of knuckles slotted themselves between his grub scars and dug furiously. Lightning shot through his nerves straight to his spine, his sense of touch heightened by the loss of vision. A guffaw tore out of Signless' throat before he could clamp his mouth shut, as he kicked off the floor to escape the sensations. It tickled so bad, so so bad. But he wouldn't dare laugh.

"Oho, a fighter! You can try that shit for now, but once you're all burnt out, you'll break easy. You're helpless."

Signless bit his lip harder, calves and shoulders quickly protesting all his movement. The knuckles dropped to his bottom ribs, continuing their ministrations. Finally, laughter broke free like water to a dam, harsh and powerful with the pressure. Shame burned his cheeks. Signless spun sideways to throw off the attacker's hands, but Grand Highblood quickly dragged him back into place. The millisecond of relief only allowed him to regret thinking this form of torture would be easy.

"Ha! You think you can escape, bitch? You're weak. I don't even know your worst spots yet."

"Hahahahahaha, oh fuhuhuck!" Nuckles turned to claws as they traveled up and down his sides, spidering quickly. Down to his hips, up, down, up, down, and up further to his lower ribs, still buzzing and flushed. Suddenly, each trip down was a promise to explore higher and higher, until both hands slid way too high to attack his armpits.

"AHAHA! No, nohoho fuck ohofff!" Signless squealed, thrashing as best he could but failing to lower his arms at all. He curled one knee up as high as he could, but it only threw him off balance as pain stabbed at his shoulders. He was truly, utterly, trapped.

The Grand Highblood chuckled darkly behind him. "Is it too much already? How motherfucking pathetic."

His fingers skittered across his torso and sides for what felt like hours and hours, until Signless' laughs became gasps and chokes, eyes falling in and out of focus. Whenever he got even slightly used to the sensation, Grand Highblood would just switch spots.

"HAHA....ahaAA.. p.. ehehaha .pleheheease!"

"You know how to make it stop, motherfucker. Where did they run off to?"

The temptation was there, as much as it pained him. The tickling was too much, he was going crazy. "I-ahaha! C-c-ahan't!"

A rough growl cut through the air, and the tickling stopped. The hands held his ribs roughly, but he finally caught his breathe in progressively deeper inhales. The relief was short lived, however, as two more footspets got closer. Probably more guards, but he still couldn't see for himself.

Seconds later, the tickling resumed threefold. Thirty fingers danced across his skin, in his armpits, ribs, and the rest were fluttering across his belly and squeezing his hips. He heard a girl chuckling at him, and a small "oh" from a young man.

Kids, 8 sweeps at most. With renewed energy, Signless' bucked hard, shaking his head side to side as he began kicking at whoever was in front of him. The first missed, but the second came into contact with a clothes torso. Instead of launching his assaulter back, his ankle was yanked forwards and caught between their body and arm. Stupid highblood strength!

Sharp nails teased his arch skillfully and he shrieked.

"Ooh, boss! Looks like I found a good one!" She said with more giggling.

"Good work, bitch. Keep it up," The Grandhighblood repied.

With one foot in the air, Signless' struggling turned into pathetic twitches and jolts. He scrunched his toes as hard as he could, but the girl simply pried them back and continued. When she reached under his toes, tears started forming in his eyes.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA- AAAAA NOHOHOHO!! nOT THEEEHEHERE!"

"Not where? Here? Are your toes reeeally bad? Is that a really /ticklish/ spot for you?" She teased.

Heat dripped down his neck in embarrassment, even his back began flushing.

"Oh, do you not like that word? Tickle? But you're so ticklish! Tickle tickle tickle, I bet it feels sooo baaaddd~"

"Aha, hahaha! Dohhohoon't!" He pleaded.

"Don't what?"

"Mock meehehe!"

He could feel the venom dripping from her voice. "Mock you? If you wish!"

"Enough, child." The Grand Highblood interrupted. "He needs to focus."

She didn't respond but she dropped his leg. His hypersensitive toes barely brushed the floor before she yanked his other from underneath him, raking her nails over his entire sole hard and fast.

At the same time, the quiet boy shifted his hands down to squeeze at Signless' defenceless thigh.

"NOOOOOHOHOHOA! HAHAHAHA!"

Grand highblood continued to switch from spiders to digs and jabs at his armpits, while the other two scratched and squeezed his shaking legs and feet. After only a few minutes, white flickers of light bloomed under Signless' eyelids, head spinning as it forced his every breath out in raw, desperate laughter. His lungs began to burn.

"no- hahahhaha, nnhaha..noho more..no mohohoore!"

"You can make this all go away, motherfucker. Just tell is where they are and we'll stop."

"haha....n..no.."

"We won't stop until you're fucking dead. But it's gonna be a looking time till this gets you. Weeks, maybe even months"

Signless shuddered, body limp from exhaustion as all three of them tickled both his sensitive sides without care for his pleading.

"Or, you could spare yourself all the trouble now...and we'll make sure your end is swift and painless. You're finished anyways, and we'll find your followers with or without your help. So why suffer?"

His eyes rolled around in his skull, head pointing with blood lacking oxygen. His laugher fell quiet ages ago, but as it became silent his senses began to fail.

"Where are those motherfuckers hiding?"

Body numb and buzzing all at once, Signless forced one last breath through his aching throat, before the sweep lull of unconsciousness took him.

"..if that's what it takes, I will be their sufferer."