#though I only trust it between two paragraphs

[hyperpotamianarch]

Sha'ul HaMelech

So, I didn't get to write about Tanach lately. Since one of my daily studies (which only exists for my college, but it can still be fun sometimes) is a chapter from Nevi'im Rishonim, though, I have some stuff to say. Usually I pour my random thoughts on fellow Torah studiers around me, but that works best when they have a reason to study the same thing as me (Parashat Shavua`), or when they might have an interest in it for other reasons (Halacha). The study of the Tanach is a bit different, in that the people I'm around usually have a very different outlook on it than me, which makes talking to them about it a bit difficult. When I'm thinking of an original interpretation to a possuk, I'm not sure I want to hear the Midrash again. I know what it says, and I'm not sure this helps with the Pəshat, thank you very much.

So, that's just a preface to explain why I put my thoughts on Sha'ul HaMelech over here. To begin with that:

The perception of Sha'ul among Jewish circles is interesting. This is the failed king, after all. I hesitate to say which view is most common, because I was used to saying one is but have since (I think) encountered quite a few people who had the other, but two possible ways emerge: the sinful, bad king and the righteous king who fell and failed. As a general rule, I hold to the latter: Sha'ul had much potential, but he eventually failed. But today, I wish to talk about his coronation.

Now, picture this: you are but a humble shepherd (or maybe cowherd. Or just herd animals), of the youngest of the 12 tribes of Israel. You're not an important person, though you are remarkably tall.

Your father's donkeys have been lost, and naturally, you headed out with your servant to look for them all over the place. You might be vaguely aware that there is some turmoil among the Israelites - people asked the prophet for a king or something. That has nothing to do with you, though.

But you can't seem to find the donkeys, and you're hungry, and you tell your servant that at this point your father probably worries over you more than the donkeys. Your servant, however, remarks that there's a prophet close by and you could just ask him about the donkeys. When you raise objections over payments, the servant says he has some money. So they go there, and there seems to be a celebration or something.

To skip ahead a bit, when you meet the prophet, he starts telling you wierd things about greatness, telling him not to worry over the donkeys and that you'll eat with him. The next morning he talks to you alone, tells you of a few signs you will see on your way and anoints you as king. You go home and tell nobody about that, though they saw you start prophesizing, which is so odd there's a new phrase named after you: "Is Sha'ul among the prophets as well?"

A couple of days later, all the people of Israel come gather, for the occasion of crowning their first king. And how does Shəmu'el start this gathering?

“Thus said the Hashem, the G-d of Israel: ‘I brought Israel out of Egypt, and I delivered you from the hands of the Egyptians and of all the kingdoms that oppressed you.’ But today you have rejected your G-d who delivered you from all your troubles and calamities. For you said to Him: 'set up a king over us!’"

-1 Samuel 10, 18-19, Sefaria translation with minor edits

I don't know about you, but if I was Sha'ul in this situation, and I know that I am the king who is to be crowned today... I'd probably have hid too. Usually it's viewed as him simply being humble, and there are certainly other occasions where we see him being humble - such as him not telling his uncle of his anointment, but here... here, I found myself wondering if this threatening opening made Sha'ul scared. He's realizing that he's being put in this position not because it's G-d's will to give the Israelites a king, but because the Israelites insisted. It doesn't help that many people don't appreciate him being appointed king and mock him.

Then, of course, the whole story with Yavesh Gil`ad happens: king Naḥash comes to take over the east side of the Jordan river, and the Yaveshites ask for help. Now, in the Tanachic context we already know that Yavesh is tied to Binyamin, Sha'ul's tribe, through marriage (following the Levite's Concubine story in the book of Judges). That may or may not have had an effect on Sha'ul's decision. However, his next act of butchering two of his bulls and sending it all around Israek serves multiple purposes: firstly, Sha'ul is still dealing with his own cattle. That's not exactly a kingly job. Clearly, his coronation led to practically nothing. Secondly, Sha'ul does assert authority with this - by saying "if you don't come with me and with Shəmu'el I'll do that to your cattle" he's showing that he's the king and he can choose to do that. Thirdly, of course, this parallels the Levite cutting his own concubine to twelve parts and sending it all around Israel.

I don't see a need to detail what happened later. Suffice to say that Sha'ul won. His first act as the actual king following that is pardoning the people who refused to accept him, not wanting to sully the victory with executions. And Shəmu'el declares that they're all going to the Gilgal to renew Sha'ul kingship.

Picture yourselves in Sha'ul's place, again. You just won a battle against the `Amonites, and against a king who was probably much more experienced than you. You saved your kin from enslavement. Your kingship is widely accepted, and you're celebrating before G-d. Then Shəmu'el, your mentor, says he wants to say a few words. You know he led the Israelites up until now, and that now that he's giving the reins to you, he probably wants to make his final speech as a leader. He's still going to be here as a prophet, of course, but he's no longer the Judge.

He starts it up with asking if anyone has unfinished business with him. Did he take anything from anyone unjustly? Did he accept any payment for his role? The Israelites all answer what all of you already know they will: no, he hasn't. He asks G-d and you - G-d's Anointed One - to be witnesses to that, which you accept.

Then he starts another speech about the history of Israel. This time it's more detailed. And, once again, he reminds the Israelites how bad them asking for a king is,

Now, logically, I'm sure Sha'ul realized this had nothing to do with him specifically. The mere idea of a king, or perhaps the idea of asking for a king in this way during this time, is what Shəmu'el is speaking against. G-d chose Sha'ul because he's fit for the task, because he really is a good choice. The fact he was asked to choose a king was bad, but the chosen king wasn't. Logically, Sha'ul must know that.

But from his perspective, it's different. From his perspective, this is the second time Shəmu'el criticizes his role - which he didn't ask for. He was forced to enter a position that Shəmu'el had something against from the very beginning. In his day of victory, the day he was recrowned as king, what Shəmu'el has to say is that he really shouldn't have done this in the first place. Sha'ul starts his kingship feeling that Shəmu'el has something against him, and that quite possibly colors the rest of his reign. Maybe this explains a couple of his bad decisions later on.

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY

✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)

✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)

✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.

✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.

Bright.

Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in  when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.

You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.

Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.

Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up.  The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.

There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.

Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.

When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.

The conversation is easy.

“Does that mean you trust me now?”

Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”

“See you later.”

“See you.”

You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.

__

You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.

He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.

(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)

You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.

You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.

He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.

He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.

You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.

He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.

“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”

You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.

Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”

Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”

He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”

“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”

The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”

You look proud again. “What? Fun?”

Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”

You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.

He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.

When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.

His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”

“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”

His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”

You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”

He cuts you off quickly.

“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”

The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.

“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.

__

Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.

You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.

It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks.  Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.

You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.

He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.

The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.

A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.

“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”

That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”

Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”

There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.

(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.

He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)

You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”

It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.

“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”

You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”

“Why?”

“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Why not?”

“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”

He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.

He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.

Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”

He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.

He finds it suits you.

A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.

You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.

“That was so bad!”

“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.

“I like your laugh, by the way.”

He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”

You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.

���I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”

You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”

He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”

You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.

“I like your laugh, I think.”

You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”

He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”

He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.

“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”

“Nevermind. Shut up.”

You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”

The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.

“So you do like coding.”

“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”

The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.

We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.

__

Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.

He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while,  but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.

So its fine. He won’t waver.

He’ll just.. call you.

He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.

You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?”  You ask, after probing.

“In a way that matters, yes.”

You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.

He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.

“I don’t think that little of you.”

He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.

“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”

You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”

He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.

“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”

You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”

It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.

It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.

 These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.

(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.

Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.

He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)

 He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.

“Is it really that easy for you?”

You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?”

“What?”

“Is this…?”

He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.

Oh.

Oh.

__

The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.

It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.

 Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.

Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.

The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.

__

You call him every day.

You’ve been doing it for months.

He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.

You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.

There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.

He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s  your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.

You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.

You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.

“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.

“Yeah?”

You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.

“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”

He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”

You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”

He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.

“Want help looking?”

“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”

“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”

You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hater.”

You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.

“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”

Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.

“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”

He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.

“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”

His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.

“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.

“So you don’t want to date me?”

“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”

Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“How long is that, exactly?”

You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”

“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”

Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.

__

He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.

Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.

After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.

He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.

Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.

You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.

The anticipation nearly kills him.

He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.

“It’s you!”

The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.

“Hey.” He says, dumbly.

“Hi!”

__

The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.

It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.

He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.

Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.

The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.

“Whats your love language, Od?”

He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”

“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”

He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”

“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”

Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.

“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”

You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”

“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.

“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”

He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”

You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.

“Have some faith.”

He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.

“Your room or mine?”

“What?”

You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”

He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

He concedes with embarassing swiftness.

“Okay.”

__

You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.

Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.

The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.

Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.

“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.

“Touching each other.”

He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”

He nods. Can’t do much more than that.

He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.

Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.

It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad  he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.

“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.

You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?

You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.

Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.

You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.

Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”

He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”

You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”

__

You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.

It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.

He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.

__

He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.

Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.

He fails in his attempt not to blush.

“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.

“Yeah. Morning.”

You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”

Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”

✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL

this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾

[darlingsblackbook]

Distant Echeos - 5

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Summary : Seeing how his behaviour has affected you, Gojo decided to change for the best. However, your trust has already been broken, is there still a chance he could mend it?

Warnings : Gojo

AN : Part one, Part two, Part Three, Part Four

The penthouse was quieter than ever. Even with Gojo back, the silence seemed heavier, thicker, like a blanket that smothered everything. I had gotten used to the silence, to the way it filled every room in his absence. When he was away, it felt like the space was my own—like I could navigate the days without walking on eggshells. Now that he was here, though, the quiet felt suffocating. Every noise, every subtle movement seemed to carry an unspoken tension.

I wasn’t sure why he’d started coming home more. For weeks—months, even—he was barely around. It had been easier that way. Easier to accept that our marriage was nothing more than an arrangement. Easier to believe that maybe he felt the same way I did—trapped, but resigned. Now, though, his sudden presence felt intrusive. I didn’t know how to act around him. Didn’t know what he was trying to accomplish by being here more often.

It wasn’t that I hated him. I didn’t. But I didn’t know him. Not really. And after so long of living in parallel lives, it felt impossible to bridge the gap between us.

That morning, like clockwork, I heard his footsteps in the kitchen. It had become a new routine of sorts—the only one we shared. He would come home, make coffee, sit at the table for a bit, and then leave again. Only now, he was staying longer. Lingering in the living room. Occasionally, I’d catch him glancing in my direction, as if he were trying to gauge my mood. But I avoided his eyes. It was easier that way.

I pretended to read a book, though my eyes kept wandering over the same paragraph. It was hard to focus when I knew he was there, moving around in the background. I heard the sound of a mug being set down on the coffee table. He was trying to be quiet, as if not to disturb me, but I could feel the tension radiating from him.

“Hey,” he said softly, and I stiffened slightly.

His voice was softer now, not the casual, confident tone I had come to expect. I hesitated before glancing up from the book. “Hi,” I mumbled, barely meeting his gaze before quickly looking away again.

There was a pause, and I could feel him watching me, as if waiting for me to say more. But I didn’t. The air between us felt thick, awkward. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around my legs.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked after another long silence.

I nodded. It wasn’t entirely true. My sleep had been restless lately, my mind a swirl of confusing emotions I didn’t know how to sort through. But I didn’t feel like explaining that to him. I wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

Gojo sighed softly and leaned back in his chair. “I made coffee,” he added, as if that were some kind of peace offering.

I glanced at the cup sitting on the table, the steam curling lazily into the air. “Thanks,” I muttered, but I didn’t reach for it.

He watched me for a moment longer, then shifted in his seat. “I was thinking… maybe we could have breakfast together?”

The suggestion caught me off guard. I glanced up at him, blinking in surprise. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to sound casual, but there was something almost hesitant in his tone. “You know, we could sit down… talk a bit. If you’re up for it.”

My first instinct was to say no. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the gesture, but the idea of sitting down with him, of trying to force a conversation when there was so much unspoken tension between us—it felt overwhelming. I didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to act like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

“I’m not really hungry,” I said quietly, looking back down at my book.

“Oh,” he said, and I could hear the faint note of disappointment in his voice. “That’s okay.”

He didn’t push. He just sat there for a moment longer, the silence growing heavier with each passing second. I felt guilty, but I didn’t know how to make things better. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to try… but everything felt so fragile, so uncertain.

Eventually, Gojo stood up. “I’ll be heading out later,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Work stuff. But I’ll be back tonight, so… if you change your mind, maybe we can have dinner instead?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I would actually take him up on the offer. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, as if waiting for me to say something more. But when I didn’t, he left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The day dragged on, uneventful as usual. I had gotten used to spending my days alone, filling the hours with meaningless tasks just to pass the time. I cleaned, I read, I wandered aimlessly through the penthouse. It was an empty routine, but it was mine. It was easier than facing the awkwardness that came with Gojo’s sudden attempts at closeness.

By the time evening rolled around, I had almost convinced myself that Gojo wouldn’t come home. That he would disappear again, like he always did, and I could go back to the familiar silence. But when the door opened, and I heard his footsteps in the hallway, I felt that same tightness in my chest—anxiety mixing with uncertainty.

I stayed in my room, not ready to face him. I heard him moving around, the sound of cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen. It was strange how aware I had become of his presence, like I could sense every little movement he made.

“Y/N?” His voice called from the other room, and I tensed slightly.

I didn’t respond right away. I wasn’t sure if I should. My mind raced with all the things I wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in my throat. Why was he doing this now? Why, after so long of being distant, was he suddenly trying to act like we were… normal?

“I made dinner,” he said, his voice closer now. He must have been standing just outside my door. “I don’t know if you’re hungry, but… it’s there if you want it.”

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to go out, to sit with him and try to act like we could have a normal conversation. But the other part of me—the part that had spent months in silence, the part that had learned not to expect anything from him—kept me rooted in place.

“I’m not really hungry,” I said quietly, repeating the same excuse I had given him earlier.

There was a long pause, and I could feel the disappointment in the air, even without seeing his face. “Alright,” he said finally. “Maybe another time.”

I listened to his footsteps retreat down the hall, the sound of him moving back to the kitchen. I stayed in my room, curled up on my bed, my thoughts swirling in a mess of confusion. Why was he trying so hard all of a sudden? And why did it feel like the more he tried, the more distant I became?

Over the next few days, Gojo kept trying. He started small—offering to cook, making coffee, asking if I needed anything before he left for work. It was all things that should have made me feel… something.

Grateful, maybe. Or at least appreciative. But instead, I felt skeptical. Uncertain. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just temporary—that any moment now, he would go back to the way he was before.

One evening, I was sitting at the dining table, staring at the untouched plate of food he had made for me. He had gone out of his way to prepare something nice, something he thought I would like, but my appetite had been non-existent lately. I poked at the food with my fork, feeling a pang of guilt.

Gojo sat across from me, watching me with a careful expression. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” he said after a long silence.

I glanced up at him, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “I’m just… not hungry.”

He nodded, but I could see the frustration flicker in his eyes. He was trying so hard, but it wasn’t working. I wasn’t responding the way he wanted me to, and I didn’t know how to fix that.

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been… quiet. More than usual.”

I stiffened at his words, my fingers tightening around the fork. I didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t know how to explain that I didn’t know what to feel anymore—that I was caught between wanting to try and being too afraid to trust his sudden change in behavior.

“I’m fine,” I said, though it sounded hollow, even to my own ears.

Gojo sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

Gojo's words hung in the air, and I felt a lump form in my throat. Could I talk to him? Could I open up after months of silence, after letting the gap between us grow wider and wider? He was trying—really trying—and part of me felt guilty for not meeting him halfway. But the other part of me was terrified. Terrified of what might happen if I let myself hope that things could be different.

"I don't..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "I don't know what to talk about."

It wasn’t a lie. I had spent so much time keeping my thoughts to myself, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt me, that now it felt impossible to untangle them. What would I even say? That I didn’t understand why he was acting differently? That I was afraid he’d leave again, that this new version of him wouldn’t last?

Gojo's blue eyes softened as he watched me. "We don’t have to talk about anything deep. Just... you. Your day. Anything, really."

His words were kind, but they only made the distance between us feel more suffocating. He was trying to reach out, and all I could do was pull back further. I stared at the untouched food on my plate, feeling my stomach twist with unease.

"There's nothing to talk about," I said quietly, pushing the plate away from me slightly. "Nothing’s changed."

I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but Gojo’s expression shifted. There was a flicker of something—hurt, maybe—before he masked it with a sigh. He leaned back in his chair, his hand brushing over the back of his neck in frustration.

He was trying. I knew that. But I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know how to be around him when things were so different now.

"I get it," Gojo said after a long pause, his voice quieter than usual. "You don't have to force yourself. If you need space... I understand."

It was supposed to be reassuring, but it only made me feel more conflicted. Space? Wasn't that what we had already? Wasn't that the problem? For months, we’d been distant, living separate lives under the same roof. And now, when he was finally trying to close that gap, I was the one pulling away.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t trying to push him away—that I just didn’t know how to deal with the sudden shift in our dynamic. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just nodded, the tension between us thickening once again.

Over the next few days, Gojo's attempts to be present didn’t stop. He stayed home more, tried to engage in casual conversations, even offered to help with small tasks around the penthouse. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of skepticism that had settled in my chest. I kept wondering if this was temporary—if he would eventually get tired of trying and return to his old, distant self.

One evening, I was in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. Gojo had offered to cook again, and I hadn’t had the heart to refuse. The meal was fine—good, even—but the unease I felt in his presence made it hard to enjoy anything.

As I scrubbed the dishes, I heard his footsteps approach. I didn’t look up, focusing on the water running over my hands. There was a moment of silence before Gojo spoke.

"Need any help?"

I shook my head. "No, I’ve got it."

He hesitated, and I could feel him watching me. I half-expected him to insist, to try and help despite my refusal. But instead, he just stood there for a moment longer before stepping back.

"Okay," he said quietly. "If you need anything, just let me know."

The silence that followed was heavy. I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken words lingering in the air. I wanted to tell him that I appreciated his efforts—that I saw what he was trying to do. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Why now? Why, after so long, was he suddenly trying to fix things? It didn’t make sense to me, and the uncertainty gnawed at my thoughts.

When I finished the dishes, I wiped my hands on a towel and turned to find Gojo sitting at the dining table, his head resting in one hand as he stared down at his phone. The light from the screen illuminated his features, and for a moment, he looked... tired. Not physically, but emotionally. Like he was carrying something heavy on his shoulders.

I hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to approach him, to ask what was really going on. But another part of me—the part that had grown used to keeping my distance—held me back. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear whatever he had to say.

So, instead, I quietly turned and headed to my room.

Days passed, and the tension only grew. Gojo was still trying—still making an effort to be around, to connect. But the more he tried, the more distant I felt. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate his gestures. I did. But I couldn’t stop questioning them, couldn’t stop wondering if this was just another part of the charade we were both trapped in.

One night, I was sitting on the couch, curled up in my usual spot with a blanket draped over my legs. Gojo had come home late, but instead of retreating to his room like he used to, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at the TV screen, which I had left on for background noise. I didn’t look at him, keeping my focus on the show playing on the screen, though I wasn’t really paying attention to it.

After a few minutes, Gojo spoke.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

The question caught me off guard. I blinked, turning my head slightly to glance at him. His blue eyes were fixed on me, a serious expression on his face. It wasn’t the casual, teasing tone he usually used. He looked... concerned. Genuine.

I hesitated, my throat tightening. “I’m fine,” I replied, though it felt like the most distant version of the truth.

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.

“I know things have been... strange,” he said after a pause. “And I know I haven’t been the best... husband.” The word seemed to catch in his throat, as if it was unfamiliar. “But I’m trying.”

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Why?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. My voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but it was the question that had been lingering in my mind for days.

Gojo looked at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Why now?” I asked, my voice a little stronger this time. “Why are you suddenly trying to... fix things?”

He stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. There was something he wasn’t saying—something deeper behind his sudden change in behavior. But instead of answering, he just sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice quiet. “I just... don’t want things to stay the way they’ve been.”

I looked away, my heart sinking. His answer didn’t reassure me. It only made me feel more uncertain, more distant. I didn’t know how to trust him—not when things had been so strained for so long.

“I think I’m going to bed,” I said softly, standing up from the couch.

Gojo didn’t stop me, but as I walked away, I could feel his gaze lingering on me, heavy with something unspoken. And as I closed the door to my room behind me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how hard he tried, the distance between us wasn’t something we could fix overnight.

Alone in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank wall in front of me. Gojo’s words echoed in my mind, but they didn’t bring me any comfort. I wanted to believe that he was trying for the right reasons—that maybe we could find some way to make this work. But the walls I had built around myself felt impenetrable, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to let them down.

Maybe I never would be.

All Rights Reserved © 2024 DarlingsBlackBook

Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @lov3vivian @junslay @alinasromanova @tqd4455 @roscpctals99

[zyart-jpg]

"And would it be alright if I pulled you closer"

Pairing: Jay Jo x Reader

Summary: What started as a study session turned into something softer—shy glances, sketchbook doodles, and the warm kind of silence only shared between two hearts quietly falling.

Tags: Established RS, Fluff, Artist! Reader

A/N: yaaay this one's for you @ravenwritten even though we always beef <3 LMAOOOOO jk, i wrote reader as an artist cus you draw so well!!!! hope u like it :>

Jay loves studying—he really does.

The structure of it, the logic, the calm rhythm of equations and annotated readings—it all makes sense. It’s comforting in the way people rarely are.

But you—sitting next to him with your thigh pressed to his, humming some half-forgotten melody under your breath, pencil tapping lightly on your sketchpad. You’re not even doing anything loud—just doodling, occasionally tilting your head to look at him like he’s part of your subject matter.

And god, how is he supposed to concentrate when you’re like this?

He blinks down at his book, reads the same sentence for the fifth time. It still doesn’t make any sense. 

He sighs, barely louder than a breath.

“You… don’t have to stay here while I study,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on the barely-highlighted paragraph in front of him.

You pause mid-sketch. “Huh?”

Jay stiffens slightly. He doesn’t want to look at you—because if he does, he might lose whatever nerve he’s barely gathered to say this properly.

“I mean, it’s probably boring,” he adds, quieter now. “Just sitting here. Watching me study.”

You twist toward him, the bounce in your leg halting. “Am I bothering you?” you ask, voice soft, expression tightening just a little like you’re trying not to sound hurt. “I can move if—”

His hand shoots out before he can even think. He grabs your wrist—not rough, not panicked, just firm, like it’s instinct.

You blink down at where his fingers are wrapped around yours.

“...No,” he finally says, eyes still not meeting yours. “I just… thought you were bored.”

The way he says it is so tentative, almost like he’s asking permission to keep you there. Like he doesn’t trust himself to deserve it.

You soften. Your free hand reaches over to tug lightly at the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m not bored. I like being here.”

That’s when he glances at you—just a flick of his eyes—and you smile.

He looks away again, ears red. “Still… If you are bored, we can do something else. You don’t have to just sit there.”

“But I want to.” You lean in a little, resting your head on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re warm. And you make those little concentration noises when you read. It’s cute.”

He huffs a breath through his nose. You can feel the way his shoulder tightens a little beneath you, like he doesn’t know what to do with the compliment.

A beat passes.

Then he clears his throat. “What’re you drawing?”

You perk up, immediately straightening. “Wanna see?”

You could see the way he seemed unsure, only focusing on how your eyes twinkled and your nose twitched—he nodded.

So you slide your sketchpad toward him, flipping it to a page filled with quick character doodles, some of them cartoony, others more detailed.

Right in the center is a sketch of a boy with messy hair hunched over a book, hoodie sleeves too long, expression focused but gentle.

He stares.

“That one’s you,” you say casually, grinning. “Studious Boyfriend.”

He just blinked silently.

You glance up, and for a second, he’s just looking at the drawing. Then at you. Then down again.

“I don’t look like that,” he mutters, but it sounds more like he’s embarrassed than disagreeing.

“You do to me.”

Jay doesn’t say anything.

But when you go back to doodling and humming again, he shifts just a little closer—barely an inch, like maybe you wouldn’t notice. But… he doesn’t mind the way your legs touch again. Not at all.

Neither of you moves away this time.

You both return to your own little worlds—him with his book, you with your pencil—but something feels different now. Warmer. A little too warm, actually.

Your head tilts as you shade in the folds of his hoodie on your sketch, trying to act normal. Trying not to notice how you can feel his body heat against your side. Trying not to think about how your heart’s been doing this weird fluttery thing ever since he touched your wrist.

Jay kept staring—at his book, at the desk. He hasn’t flipped the page in ten minutes.

He sneaks a glance at you. Then forces his eyes back to the same sentence he’s been pretending to read. Then glances at you again.

You’re humming—some soft little tune, probably something you made up—and it sounds like safety. Like the kind of sound he could memorize if he let himself.

He shifts again. Not big. Just enough to bring his elbow a little closer to yours.

His fingers twitch beside his leg.

Say it, he tells himself. 

“Hey…” he finally says, albeit quiet.

You glance at him, eyes wide, still soft with that look you always get when he speaks. “Hmm?”

His gaze flickers to your lips—just for a second. Then immediately back to the book, like he’s been caught thinking something he shouldn’t.

“...Nothing.” He exhales, his voice a little too shaky to pass for casual. “Never mind.”

You pause. Then smile, cheeks already pink. “You sure?”

He gives a small nod, but doesn’t say anything. His jaw tightens, like he’s trying to chew his thoughts into something easier to swallow.

Instead of answering, he shuts his book.

You blink. “Break time?”

Jay nods, stiff as a board. “Five minutes.”

You smile, stretching your arms overhead with a sleepy yawn. “Perfect. You need to reward yourself for being so good.”

That makes him go still—like you just hit him with something he didn’t know how to process. His ears go pink, but he doesn’t protest.

You set your sketchpad aside and scoot closer without thinking, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. Like it’s normal. Like it’s nothing.

It is absolutely not nothing to Jay.

He freezes.

You can feel how tense he is beneath you—like he’s trying not to breathe too hard in case it scares you off. Slowly, painfully, he lifts one arm and hesitates behind your back before finally resting his hand there, awkward but sincere.

His palm is warm.

Your fingers find the drawstring of his hoodie, fiddling with it idly, and you murmur, “You always smell like laundry and paper.”

He lets out a nervous, tiny sigh—not the bad kind, but more like a relieved one.

You look up at him, and your face is so close to his that you both freeze again—eyes locked, breath caught.

Jay swallows.

His voice comes out as barely a whisper. “C-Can I hold you?”

Your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks flush bright.

“You already are,” you whisper back, a bashful smile tugging at your lips. “But yeah. You can.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, gently tugging you closer so your head rests more fully against his chest. It’s clumsy—he moves like he’s afraid of messing it up—but it’s sweet. Honest.

Then, after a moment of silent panic and courage battling in his chest… he leans down, and presses the faintest, most featherlight kiss to the top of your head.

You stiffen for half a second. Then melt.

You bury your face in his hoodie, hiding the huge, dumb smile stretching across your lips.

He’s blushing so hard he can feel it in his ears. His hand is still on your back, but now it’s trembling just a little.

“This is a good break,” you say softly.

“...Yeah,” he stammers.

And as you both sit there—hearts racing, hands fidgeting, faces red and shy and warm—Jay wonders how five minutes with you can make the rest of his day feel this easy.

Maybe even… perfect.

MASTERLIST

[lemotmo]

What do you think Temu's role is in next week's episode? Apart from the funeral, (though I have fucking idea why he's carrying the coffin and not anyone else from A shift)

(Hopefully his final one!)

Yeah, the choice of him carrying that coffin is just weird. The 118 isn't just made up of Hen, Eddie (will be back soon), Chimney, Buck and Ravi. There are plenty of other firefighters at the station. We see them all the time in the background. It would make more sense that one of them would carry that coffin. He was their captain too.

But for plot reasons I suppose they decided to use Tommy. 🙄

I do think Tommy is there for a reason. We've seen in 15 that Buck and Tommy are back on good terms, but we also know that a relationship between them would never work. One, because Tommy knows that Buck isn't as interested in him as he would like him to be, mainly because he heavily suspects that Buck is in love with Eddie.

And two? Well, he is right. Buck is in love with Eddie. He just doesn't want to see it or even acknowledge it. 🤷‍♀️

But how could they fit that in the episode?

Well, I keep coming back to all the parallels between 7x03, 7x04, 8x15 and possibly 8x16:

I've been thinking about Tommy's arc. It started with him flying his helicopter to save Bathena (7x03). The next episode (7x4) he tried to woo Eddie, but ended up kissing Buck.

Now he, once again, flew his helicopter to help save Chimney and the others in 15. He showed up because Buck called him.

We also know that Eddie will be back in 16. I've speculated before that I think there'll be a convo between Tommy and Eddie. I really think this I'll happen as a parallel to 7x04, where Tommy and Eddie were shown to be friends. We do know that Eddie stopped talking to Tommy when BT broke up, so it might be a bit of an awkward conversation where both feel out of their depth.

Additionally I potentially see Tommy give Eddie some kind of hint as to not wait to long to go after what he wants or something generic like that. Which will undoubtedly puzzle Eddie and might be something that he can't get out of his head in the two last episodes.

So, my current theory for 8x16 is that they will parallel the scene where Tommy comes over to Buck's loft in 7x04. Only this time it won't end with Tommy kissing Buck.

So Tommy shows up at Buck's house after the funeral to check in on him and finds Eddie already there, taking care of Buck because Eddie knows exactly what Buck needs. At the same time Buck will also take care of Eddie, because he lost Bobby too. Tommy will probably also find out that Eddie is staying with Buck as long as he's in LA.

Cue the awkward conversation (+ possible hint) with Eddie I talked about in the paragraphs above. Tommy might then have a short talk with Buck (probably in the kitchen again) that links back to the kitchen conversation after they hooked up.

And that might just trigger Buck to realise that life is too short. He can't just keep denying these feelings he has for Eddie. Cue Buck realising and accepting that he is actually in love with his best friend.

It might even end with a nice Buddie scene after Tommy leaves. Now, in a perfect world it would end with a Buddie kiss to parallel the BT kiss, but I don't think we are quite there yet. It seems a bit too fanficy. And also... Bobby just died. Now might not be the best time. 😫😂

So most probably Eddie will ask Buck if he is okay and Buck will just stand there trying to be normal with the realisation that he has fallen in love with Eddie.

Oh and let's not forgot the Bathena parallel in both episodes either. In 7x03 Buck and Athena had a reunion on the ship with Buck, Eddie and Tommy looking at them.

In 8x16 they'll (hopefully if Bobby is still alive) have another reunion as Bobby will be back. Probably with everyone there to see it.

(Yes, I am a Bobby is alive truther. Trust.😌)

I also don't think that Eddie's realisation will be too far behind once we have confirmation of Buck's feelings. Oliver has expressed his concerns before of not wanting to do the storyline of the bisexual man falling for his straight best friend. So I think they'll try to avoid that by making sure that Eddie will start his own journey of realisation as he starts to get more and more aware that Buck is a part of his joy and happiness in life.

All right everyone, keep in mind that this is just speculation.😋 These are my thoughts about what MIGHT happen in 8x16, based on what we know so far (which is almost nothing) and based on parallels with previous episodes. So please take all of this with a grain of salt. I'm here for the fandom fun, but I'm not clairvoyant. 😉

This might shock you, but I have been wrong before in my spec. 😂😂😂

[oltammefru]

Yo wtf I just found out that Kal'tsit's files have a new entry once you clear 15-21:

…In the end, the people of Rembit chose to name this mountain range after the most easily harvested crop, the Bank Nut. This place is at the end of the southwestern branch of the Talgan Lode, and it is a rare place to live in Rembit, where natural disasters occur frequently. The ocean monsoon from the southwest brings suitable rainfall. If there is a few years between the two natural disasters that occurred here, people can see patches of lush broad-leaved forests on the hillsides. Now it seems that I have almost no way to match its current appearance with what I remember - 10,000 years ago, when the Originium had not yet spread, this place was still a vast and barren plain. That wasteland was the first scene I saw in Terra, and my journey began here. After leaving here for several centuries, I tried to find and return here, but this meaningless attempt was almost futile. At that time, there was no language to describe the direction, there were no sufficiently stable reference points on the barren wilderness, and the stars in the night sky could not serve as beacons to guide the way. In the end, I used several major mountain ranges depicted in the satellite map stored in my body as marking points, and roughly determined the location of the plain. When I returned here, I saw that some of the ancestors had fled the battlefield with Tikaz and settled here. Their tribe had already grown to more than a hundred people. That was a sign of life. I continued to search and began to wander in this land called Terra, but I knew that the answer I was looking for could only be found in time. Time is lonely, and the experience of life is by no means summarized by the word "loneliness". I began to reap joy in my dazed journey, even though such joy made me exhausted. I have to admit that I occasionally need to stop and rest for a short time, and I realized that such stops are becoming more frequent. Perhaps it is because of the companions I met, whom I never expected, who allowed me to relax almost lazily, and the trust I can give, as well as the uneasiness and reluctance, all exist because of them. I have never forgotten that everything will eventually end because of the long time, and I have no intention of fighting against such laws. It's just that before the end, I presumptuously expected that this journey would have a gentler end. I will definitely be happy about this again. ……

Among the many documents Kal'tsit left behind, you read a few paragraphs like this. They don't look like diaries or letters left to anyone, but just a few random notes written intentionally or unintentionally when writing the documents. But if there is anyone who can truly understand the meaning of these words, there is only one person.

[shinne55]

**Silent Confession**

Victor Grantz x Reader

Summary: Victor receives an anonymous letter on Valentine's Day.

Words in a conversation come and go: lies that hurt and secrets between paragraphs. Speaking in person is too complex. That’s why Victor took this job—nothing can escape in a letter. There are no hidden meanings; everything can be said from the depth of the heart. So, as a postman, he has the faithful task of delivering each letter to its destination.

It’s an honest and satisfying job. Happy, sad, bitter, or innocent faces hide behind every writer and their recipient. For the young man who didn’t speak, a letter is the purest and most sincere thing, more than an entire face-to-face conversation.

During the holidays, when the letters fill the mailbox, the busier he gets and the less time he has. Christmas, New Year, and birthdays follow, but above all, Valentine’s Day. A complicated date for a small postman, but highly appreciated by those who wish to find love. Knowing that within each envelope there is a destiny in motion made his young heart flutter.

Even though Victor had worked in his community for several months, he didn’t know the people by their names but by their letters.

The mother who writes with beautiful handwriting, pressing the pencil firmly as she writes to her husband and children away from the city.

The little ones who presumably write to Santa with scribbles and drawings.

And the lovers with their colored papers and perfumes.

On Valentine’s Day, the latter group increases noticeably.

During one of those nights, when he arrived home with his companion, Wick, a small dog that follows him everywhere, changed out of his uniform, and got ready to sleep, right after hanging his jacket and emptying his bag, a letter fell to the floor. Immediately, his eyes widened, and he looked inside his bag. It was the only letter that had slipped in the entire day, stuck with a cheap seal on the wall. A small square letter in a vermilion envelope with no name or address.

His eyebrows furrowed, and, determined to violate the author’s privacy, he opened the letter.

**To the postman

Thank you for your hard work**

No sender, no signature. An anonymous letter.

Was that it? A letter for him?

A thank you that would seem crude and silly to anyone else, but to the young mailman, a true feeling of recognition struck his chest, and immediately his cheeks turned peachy with happiness.

That night, he lay on his bed, thinking about the author. Whether it was a joke or not, he didn’t care. It moved him enough to appreciate the message. He slept with the letter open on his nightstand, and in the following days, when he returned home tired from work, he would look at that letter on his desk, under the bedside light. And his chest swelled with confidence.

The next of many letters came two weeks later. Same paper, same handwriting, and no sender.

**Dear postman

I don’t know if my letter really reached you. But I truly hope it did. Thank you for your service, without you, the community would have no real connection.**

The boy could feel the interaction as a small comfort or recognition, making him feel that his effort and dedication didn’t go unnoticed. If only he had their name, he would write them a thank-you letter. Sadly, many of these letters were taken from the mailbox. And very few were delivered directly to him.

Victor is, among many of the postman in his town, just another worker, and he didn’t have much speaking ability. He relied on listening and reading lost letters and pleasant conversations. Even so, he didn’t go unnoticed by some. Over time, he earned the trust of the older writers and neighbors who had the habit of writing almost daily and waiting for his response. So, thanks to that first letter, perhaps, Victor gained more confidence.

A couple of months later, with a one-sided connection on his part, and after several failed attempts to identify the address of the sender, he gave up and settled on reading them when he left work. A routine of preparing a cold glass of milk on the small table next to his bed, taking a couple of sips while reading these letters, which over time became longer. With little everyday things like the weather, funny town events, and annual celebrations. Until, weeks before Christmas, the last letter arrived.

**To the Dear Postman Victor**

He smiled. After several months, they had finally used his name in the letter, and that one-sided connection became more intimate. Sometimes it started with, *"My favorite postman,"* or a formal, *"Dear Victor."* All very polite until the author began recounting their day-to-day life. He knew much more about her life than his own. Everything except her name.

Calmly, with his dog snoring at the foot of the bed, he continued reading:

**"I’m sorry for sending these strange letters for so long. The truth is, I just wanted someone to talk to."**

Victor stopped reading and straightened his back against the headboard of the bed:

**"My mother passed away months ago, and my father three years ago. I’ve felt so alone, but the idea that someone would read one of these letters, and that it would be you, brings me comfort. But it’s also likely that I scared you or someone else. I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again."**

No more letters arrived.

Was something happening to her during these months when she didn’t write? Was she feeling lonely and planning to do something drastic?

For many days, he was afraid. He knew loneliness and what it did to people firsthand. But it felt far worse knowing he couldn’t do anything to help her change her mind.

He waited a day, then a week, but that vermilion-colored paper, with those homemade seals, didn’t appear in any mailbox in the city. Victor was the only one responsible for collecting letters in that area, so it didn’t make sense for them not to show up.

“Are you looking for someone who lost her mother this year?” an old woman from the bakery he regularly visited asked. “Hmm, there’s a girl, yes. She hasn’t been seen lately. She usually comes to shop during the week. On Tuesdays, I think.”

*During the week—that’s when my shift begins, and I pick up the letters,* Victor thought.

Despite being reserved, the concern on his face and his written manner prompted the woman to share more details.

**[Who is she?]**

It was good he had his notebook on hand to communicate. Even though his hand trembled, and his writing was messy, the woman understood what he wanted to ask.

**[YN]**

**[Where does she live?]** he wrote quickly. Wrapped in his winter uniform and a scarf, he hid his nervousness with the cold.

“On Central Avenue, four blocks down.”

He grabbed his pencil again and wrote:

**[Do you know if she has any relatives or friends in the city?]**

The question puzzled the woman, and she hesitated to answer.

“You look like a good boy. You remind me of my grandson. No, she lives alone as far as I know. You know, he wasn't a... very good man. The poor girl has been accompanying her mother in mourning ever since. ”

Victor was already running, fast, faster than when he tried to deliver late packages or when chasing Wick for stealing his parcels.

He abandoned his usual calm demeanor and ran toward the address the woman had mentioned, clinging to hope. And there it was—a small house with a well-kept garden separating Victor from her. It was winter now, and a layer of snow covered everything in pristine white—the streets, rivers, and even her garden.

*Should I do this?* He didn’t know her in person, but after ten months of letters, he felt like he had known her his whole life.

Even so, he knocked gently, not brave enough to ring the doorbell further ahead.

Although she might not feel the same. Although she might think she was bothering him, Victor waited for her letter every day. He wanted to know about her life, every little detail. He wanted to hear her laugh, cry, and see her in person.

And even if they had never met before—

“Hello?”

He wanted to be by her side.

What words could he offer? What could he say when he had never spoken to her before?

“Victor?”

As he stood there, sweating, lungs and brain on the verge of collapsing, he stopped and saw her—you—for the first time. Just as he had imagined and more. His words couldn’t describe the wave of emotions he felt seeing you there, safe.

You were surprised it was him. He didn’t know your name or your address. That’s why you never included it. You had overthought it, assuming it would be awkward—and it was.

When Victor extended his arms with several letters in hand and a determined expression, your face shifted to concern and embarrassment.

“So, you read them all. I’m sorry.”

Quickly, he held the letters tightly to his chest, and his expression seemed to tell you not to apologize. Victor leaned down, his gaze full of tenderness, more so than Wick’s by his side. Somehow, the way his eyes reminded you of summer leaves and his hair of sunlight made you feel undeserving of something so good.

“You don’t know anything about me, you only know me through those silly letters.”

He shook his head, his eyebrows raising in protest. *Silly? Not at all.* When you saw him take out his notebook and scribble something with a pencil, you were puzzled to read it.

**[I know the girl who loves iced coffee at night, who loves animals as much as I love Wick.]**

“Please, go. You’re not doing any good staying here.”

You were about to turn and shut the door when Wick bit at the fabric of your pants. You tried shaking him off, only for Victor to grab your wrist.

His mouth trembled, his lips pressing together before forming anything more than a murmur. It felt cruel to turn your back on someone who, despite his disability, was trying to help you.

“I… like you.”

No one had ever heard him speak. People assumed he couldn’t. He spoke clumsily when it came to you, but he spoke. His voice, breathless yet soft, like cream in coffee, melted your heart to hear it.

“No! It’s impossible. No one could love me. You’re lying.”

Why wouldn’t anyone love you? Who had made you believe that? If someone thought they could never be loved that way, Victor assumed it would have been him—not someone like you.

He searched his pockets, his gaze panicking until Wick barked and placed an envelope on the ground. Victor patted his head and handed it to you.

Vermilion—the color of your letters. However, this one had a sender.

**To YN, from Victor.**

**[You opened your heart to me, YN, in a way no one else ever has. And now, I have to give you mine.]**

“Victor…” You clutched the letter.

He gave you a broken smile, encouraging you to read it fully.

**[You will live a long life, YN, watching the sunset every evening. You won’t ever be alone again. I just need one thing.]**

The letter ended there.

“But what is it that you want?”

He pointed to himself. He placed his hands, loosely balled into fists, over his heart, as if hugging something precious. Then, he took your hands and intertwined them over your chest.

“I don’t understand… Why? Aren’t you tired of hearing from me and reading about me?”

He wrote something else in his notebook:

**[I could listen to you my entire life.]**

You didn’t fully understand, but with him, words weren’t necessary.

**[I’ve met many people in my life, but none like you. I found you, YN. I won’t let you go. I love you.]**

You felt foolish. Every emotion you’d suppressed spilled out like crystalline pearls. You couldn’t say anything, but you hugged him like you’d always been searching for him, while he had been waiting for you.

In that moment, Victor knew he had found love in your silence.

[walnutcookie]

WHAT ABOUT tos dandy and astro headcanons

Sure !!! Heres some lil things about these fellers

:33

ty for the ask anon!!

- Astro feels like he needs to be charismatic like dandy on stage which is why he seems out of character. hes forcing it, he hates the stage and hes not built to be an entertainer </3 Hes the same off of the stage though. my guy is napping between performances (they have a little rest area behind the curtain of their stage since theyre in there so much)

- astro is also still an avid reader!! Best place to look for him when hes not looking is curled up on a couch in the library. he likes it there because its quiet and he usually isnt bothered :] the only downside is sometimes rodger pesters him with questions

- dandy still absolutely adores pebble, he steals puppy away from shrimpo to play or cuddle with him (this pisses shrimpo off so bad. it makes him anxious actually because he doesnt know where his lil buddy is </3)

- While there arent any "mains" in tower of souls, they are a bit of a friend group!! they were super close back in the day but over time as things changed their relationships developed a bit of tension,, everyone pities shelly after the jone incident and after vee started getting super popular dandy started to get really jealous of her. pebble is also there because of the previous point lol.

- ^ relating to this, im not sure if the holiday toons would be included? Maybe theyd be more familiar with the "mains" friend group because theyre each the lead of their music group but the holiday toons dont usually spend much time in the main building so i dont think theyd be very close.

- Astro is good friends with razzle and dazzle :] he doesnt have all that many friends besides dandy, especially not close ones, but i think hed be closest with those two. Probably helps them script/record little films in their free time hehehe

- dandy also doesnt have that many friends, but not because hes antisocial like astro, its more that he has to keep his relationships pretty shallow just because of his job. yk. Its like you wouldnt usually be best friends with your boss because youd view them differently. hes friendly with everyone and i would say most of the toons consider him a friend but he cant have very close relationships because he needs to maintain that distance,, As previously mentioned though he is close with the mains :] i think astro is the only one who really knows all of the deepest parts of him but hes been a bit more vulnerable around their friend group. mostly in their earlier days though since again theres a bit of strain on all of their relationships

- Both of them have a much closer connection to the founders than most toons. Probably a given but theyre really the only ones who talk to arthur and delilah consistently :P the founders dont interact with the toons all too much, theyre busy doing other things and thats the toon handlers jobs, but since they primarily took care of the mascots when they were first created (being the experiments i mean they were the FIRST ones to be made they watched those two like hawks at first) they have some weird fucked up distant parent/guardian/ boss relationship. They go to the founders office pretty often just to talk about how things have been going lately, any improvements to either the business or the toons' quality of life, any incidents with toons or guests, etc :]

- Theyre both heavily reliant on each other. maaybe to a slightly unhealthy degree. ok fuck this requires seperate paragraphs

Astro is attached to dandy for multiple reasons. i mean just to begin with all of the toons form a LOOOT of trust and reliance with each other when theyre first born because theyre placed with a Fellow Toon whos also trying to figure out how to live and shit and they come to understand each other a lot.

Dandy is arguably even more attached to astro. like. as previously mentioned he cant form many close connections to other toons just out of necessity for his job. He takes on all of the social aspects of their roles while astro is more there to come up with ideas and think things through thourughly because dandy can be impulsive and impatient, theyre a very good team together but dandys confidence relies a lot on just. Having astro present. he likes just at least having him in the room, nearby, even if he doesnt help out in any way. thats exactly why he manipulated astro into helping him with all of the ichor-ification stuff, it wasnt that he couldnt do it alone, he just didnt know if he could mentally get himself to do it without the presence of his buddy. he genuinely believed that he was doing the right thing so he thought it was a worthy sacrifice to make astro feel awful as long as he could carry out his plan because Surely their life would be perfect after it all and itd all be worth it!!! (and then he killed everyone)

[iamtotallyfineokay]

~ ♡ Let me be yours and you can be mine, darling. ♡ ~

ⓘ This can taken before/after the roulette game!ⓘ

ⓘ Warnings: OOC, unhealthy dependency(on your end), (kinda), forceful affection, sadistic tendencies (only for one paragraph)ⓘ

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Cocky Orange:

Okay he’s a jerk, straight up. 

Throughout the match he constantly smiles and is always nonchalant, even sitting back when he gives the gun to the player. He potentially wouldn’t even care much about the relationship at first it seems, even his death sprite shows him still being stuck up. That wasn’t the case though.

This dude is more so into showing off the relationship to people and trying to get bragging rights about it. Don’t even try to actively initiate public affection with him sometimes, this dude just carelessly pushes your hand off from him for getting it near him.

But here’s the kicker: I doubt he will let you go that easily. If you tried to be the one to seperate yourself from him, you’re more likely to get a reaction from him whether you like it or not. This would also make him think it’s some sort of ‘game’ between the two of you, so don’t try any further or he’d set up something you wouldn’t expect.

I headcanon all the opponents to have at least been experienced in the war since there’s a post-match dialogue about a war going on. Using his old experience from back then, he could throw off rivals easily if he so wanted to, or let his sadistic ass watch you get pestered by someone as his mouth turns into a wrinkled smirk.

Why so you may ask? Well, he knows your gonna be coming back to him one way or another, so he allows you to vent or turn your emotions to him if you ever wanted to. He wants you to be weak, not to comfort you or anything of the sorts, he wants to see the vulnerable sides of you, to expose your most dreadful secrets to him, and use it against you in the best way possible.

Getting off the topic for a bit, we can talk about his own actual thoughts about you. Despite not fully supporting you during your darkest times or even exploiting the way you open your comfort bubble to him, he still thinks that you should be grateful he cares about you in the first place. He could have hurt you, bully you, injure you, yet he chose to love you, so you must be thankful to him.

I cannot see him giving you gifts or anything of the sort but for the sake of this headcanon list, let’s pretend he does give you gifts but it’s not often. He’s not the one initiating or preparing any dates in hand. I would say your the one dragging the relationship on your end. He’ll just spectate you as you try to contribute to the relationship by yourself, it makes him feel funny.

From what we can compile, he’s more so a dorodere, someone who forces the significant other to love them, and possibly doesn’t provide anything in return. You sometimes wonder if he really loves you or your just something he could play with. Trust me honey, I think he knows the answer.

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[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Onyx Storm Predictions!!

I wanted to do a full theory post but the clock is TICKING and I decided to get sick last week before I could write one up, so this will have to do!

Predictions below the cut! I'm going to re-blog and re-spoiler tag with extra info from the apple books preview, so no onyx storm spoilers on THIS post.

I'm going to start off with my most controversial prediction and say that I don't think Xaden is leaving! The bond is still in place (re: end of IF) and Sgaeyl evidently still gives a fuck about him (again, re: end of IF) and so I don't think she's going to break the bond! I DO think he might try and leave, but I think Violet will stop him.

This is probably the second most controversial (at least to me) but I do think Violet might be part/half venin. I think Lilith turned when she was pregnant with Violet. I don't fully know how being part venin would even work, but we know next to nothing about how being FULL venin would work, so I'm not gonna sweat it. There's a huge theme (motif?) of being two things at once in these books (violet's hair, her eyes, her two dragons, her two signets, scribe/rider, Xaden's two signets, etc.) Further, you have Lilith's cure-investigation, and also the matter of the extreme amount of parallels between Lilith and Xaden. I think they both turned to protect Violet.

The subsect of that prediction/theory/whatever is that I don't think Xaden can drain her! If you read the fight with JFB in FW wherein Vi is "shaken by an internal force (she doesn't) understand, as though he's forcing his own power into my body, shocking me with a thousand stings of vibrating energy" while he has his hands holding her face. A couple paragraphs later, it's confirmed his eyes are red-rimmed. (Fourth Wing pages 294-295). I think this is JFB draining her to a certain degree. It HURTS Violet, he gets power, but no hand prints! I actually really wanted Xaden to leave sexy handprints on her, but in the last like 4 days I've changed my mind. I foresee a sort of vampire-esque power drinking thing!

I keep calling myself controversial but I'm going to keep doing it. My NEXT controversial take is that I don't think they're going to the isles yet! I think Vi may WANT to go to the isles, but I think she'll have to go to Poromiel first, then head to the barrens!

I think Vi's second signet is one of two things: the type of mirroring signet I used in Teach Me, or a straight up inntinnsic. Both of these are used in the throne scene, as I spelled out in that fic! I don't mind Vi being an inntinnsic*, especially since all the men in her life have a direct line into her head. I really think it's only fair if she can get back at them, IDK.

I don't think we're meeting Xaden's mom this book! I think that's book 4. But while we're talking about her, I think she has a second kid Xaden doesn't know about, and I think they'll meet this secret sibling first and it will be a moment of tenuous trust between riorgail (in that Violet will have to grapple with the possibility of him keeping secrets from her AGAIN, only to find out her isn't)

I'm saving my thoughts on who dies for the spoilery part!

I don't think Xaden is getting "Cured". I'm not entirely sure there will be a cure on a person-to-person basis, because I frankly think that defeats the purpose of the metaphor.

This MAY be a book 4 thing, but I'm going to add it here anyway! My IRL bestie and I talk a lot about how the story of the 3 brothers here is the Deathly Hallows reborn, and we've been joking about how Violet must gather said hallows to defeat Voldemort etc. However, we joked about it a little too much, and now I'm convinced: at some point, Vi will be the dragon rider, the gryphon flier, and the venin

OR: Mira is the gryphon rider* and Brennan's the venin.

This is wishful thinking actually but the quest squad somehow ends up being just x, vi and the dragons!

This is more of a theme prediction, but every book thus far (all 2!) have been about unpacking a level of propaganda. FW is Navarre's propaganda about war, and IF is Navarre's propaganda about Poromiel. Therefore, we have at least 2 more forms of propaganda to unpack: whatever the fuck is going on with the dragons, and the idea that venin are inherently evil. I think we tackle one of these book 3 and one book 4! Or perhaps both together, because they are intertwined.

Crack Pot Theories

Papa Sorrengail's first name is Adam.

I don't think Halden is Violet's ex. I think it's literally two random ass infantry guys. Also Xaden gets to kill Halden :)

I think Brennan killed Naolin! I also think they were gay. I think it’s a mirror to a different way to handle someone turning venin for you than what Vi and X will do

I may edit this and add more. Why am I blanking on every thought I've ever had about onyx storm in my life.

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

is that a half alive reference in your bio?

YES! YES IT IS!

Thank you so much for asking me this I love this question! And you! I love half•alive, and creature is my favorite song in the whole entire world, and now I'm going to talk about it thanks for activating my gush-over-things-I-love mode :D

I love this verse. Well, I love every single vowel in this song but that's beside the point. Just mentally insert 'I love this verse' for each paragraph here please. I love the childlike wonder in wanting to discover who we are and what our purpose is. We already have a pretty good idea, we've figured a lot out about ourselves, but there's still so much more to see and discover and come to terms with, because we are complex beings. So complex in fact, that we will never know every part of ourselves objectively, which is why which is why we need someone all-knowing and all-powerful with faith infallible, with wisdom and justice and gentleness to look inside of us and judge us for exactly who we are.

And here, from the good but still limited perspective, he simply states that he's flawed! He's worn! The world is in a fallen state, we've all been blighted by the sin in the world, that tears and wears and corrupts our souls and flesh and blurs the image of who we truly are. And because of that, he is going to trust the Artist molding him and who he is, Jesus, who is higher than us and knows us, knows what's best for us, and always has our best interests in mind. He is the creator, and we are the creation, the Creature.

Then we have the ~chorus~ (I could cry its so beautiful) I am haunted and flawed both by the fallen nature of the world and by my own flesh, and marred. And I am holy and created by God, made in glory, as He chose to create me in my mother's womb, still a configuration of cells, every bit of me, I am intentional and set apart by Him, fearfully and wonderfully made. And even though life is dark and hard, and it is guaranteed that I will face incredibly difficult challenges that would break me if not for Christ, He will lead me through the valley of the shadow of death, and while it might be dark and scary, and I'm blinded what He's doing and what's going on, I will not be blinded to Him and His glory, which are ever present and ever faithful to us.

The heart is perilous. It's selfish. It wants its own ways and whims and to choose darkness. But its been twisted to be that way by our fallen nature, since the Garden when humanity chose that path. It used to be beautiful and pure and lovely, and in a sense, it still is. There is a duality, it reflects both natures. Our hearts reflect both the perfection and loveliness of the Artist, and the danger and imperfection of humanity's fallen state. We as the Creature are torn between these two things from the Fall.

Our world is dark, and it's only getting darker. But we are called to shine the light of Christ in the darkness, to be a light in dark places when all other lights go out, and to show our relationship with God to the world boldly, since we are not ashamed of the Gospel. And the world feels that. The human heart longs for Eden, longs for peace, longs for a Creator, longs for a loving Father, for a perfect world. We are called to show that Jesus is that answer to that.

We are growing through and because of Christ, always. If you are a Christian, every breath you take should be in pursuit of becoming more like and following Him. Our flesh is naturally inclined to fight to see when it's unclear because our brains and flesh are constantly yammering for knowledge, not caring if it's good or ill. But instead God tells us to be still and to put our peace and assurance in Him instead. He's got this. Our flesh and spirit are at war with each other, the haunted and holy at odds, Jesus reaching to save us from the grasp of the Devil, and He did so by dying and rising again, and bringing new life through his ultimate sacrifice. Because of this we are a sacred note in His symphony, masterfully crafted as a part of His plan, to bring hope to others and glorify God. God took dirt and created Adam, and He's created us for His purpose as well, which we can take assurance and rest and comfort in. We also take comfort and hope in looking forward to when Jesus will return and create a new heaven and a new earth, where life will grow abundantly and death will be defeated and the time for our natures to be torn between haunted and holy will be over, and we can fully have both our soul and our new physical bodies that He will craft for us utterly at His service for our good and His glory. Jesus Christ will throw Satan into the lake of fire, crushing the Evil Prince of this world with His heel, and rule the heavens and the earth, like He already rules our hearts, and will expose both the world's and our own darkness and evil, and He will win against it, making us into new creations through Him, and we will get to walk in the light of His glory and rejoice with Him forever. We have wonder in this redemption, and in the beauty of Jesus discovering us in ways we can never discover ourselves, and there are so many mysteries in life, but all of it points back to God, through us as the creature.

You bet it does.

We don't have to suffer from the darkness in our hearts, we get to turn to the Artist for peace, and are gifted to rest in that as His creature. The darkness isn't our motivation for understanding ourselves and the world, our motivation is the peace that comes from knowing we are created by a perfect God, who, when we put our faith in Him, redeems us, and for the rest of our lives and until we die and are given new bodies, will continue to do so and make us more like Him. Understanding our hearts and the mysteries of God is an exploration with childlike wonder of who He has made us each to be, rather than just trying to understand what drives us and our emotions and moods and feelings and flaws. We get to look beyond our circumstances, we have an innate desire to know our Creator. This song has so much hope and wonder in it, acknowledging the darkness as real and present and active, while clinging to Christ through it all. We get to dive into the mysteries of life and creation, knowing that we are loved and have purpose through Him. We don't fully understand. And we will never have to. We are called to seek His face, and we can trust that the answers we seek are the ones that promise new life.

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So! Back to my bio. 'I am creation both haunted and holy' I've been created by Christ, and am a creature. I'm haunted by the fallen world and my sinful flesh. And I'm holy because I've been justified by Grace alone, through Faith alone, in Christ alone. God looked inside of this mess and made a declaration about my state. In my sin and in my flesh, I am a terrible sinner. Nothing good about my by myself. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Any time I've ever tried to do anything without Him it's turned out for the worst.

BUT GOD (probably by favorite phrase in the entire Bible) gave over all of that sin and sickness to Jesus, who through His death on the cross has redeemed it and made me righteous and holy in God's sight. Not because of something that I did, but because of what Jesus did, and God transfers us the righteousness of Jesus to us when we put our faith in Him. And being justified by faith alone does not mean I'm saved because I have faith, but rather that faith is the means that I cling to Christ. I'm saved through the grace of God. And it's in Christ alone because we can't ever become righteous by ourselves ever, even if we had the rest of our lives to, we NEED Jesus to intercede for us. We are both sinners and righteous because of Jesus, both haunted and holy, made in glory. But then when we have faith to cling to, it utterly changes our lives and our hearts, and pushes us to do good works through, for, and because of Him, from now until the end of time.

That line, 'I am creation both haunted and holy' is the entire Gospel message in a single sentence. It's masterfully written. I thank the Artist for it.

This song is so beautiful. And I just took a crack at the lyrics, the instrumentals and Josh's vocals are insanely incredible. Max headphone greatness for this song. And every version of it is utterly lovely. But the orchestral one from In Florescence is my favorite. Sounds like a hymnal arrangement being played in a cathedral.

[jo-harrington]

Luminous Beings - Episode 7: The Force is With Me

Art by @monologichno || Beta Read by @undead-supernova Part of the @eddiemunsonbigbang

Summary: It's time for Eddie to trust in himself, and in the Force.

Word Count: 8.2k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Thalia Trieste)

Warnings/Themes: Star Wars AU, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Alcohol and Substance Use, Minor Canon Inaccuracies/Adaptation, Galactic Politics, Mention of Death, Vague References to Order 66 and the Jedi Purge, Discussion of the Force, Use of Force Abilities, Abstract Spirituality

Note: Thanks again to everyone for reading. If you're familiar with the game Jedi: Fallen Order, you might have already noticed some plot familiar plot nuggets and you might notice some more here. I've compiled a list of all the references I've made so far to the SW universe, and will be posting that soon in case anyone is interested in consuming more Star Wars than what visual media has to offer.

Special thanks to August for the last minute brain sesh to make that one paragraph better. You inspire me to do better all the time. If for nothing else, I will write (and edit) better just for you <3. Hehe.

Luminous Beings Masterlist - Jo-Harrington's Masterlist

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Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

Bogano, 10BBY

Time seemed to fly by the longer they stayed away from the fast pace of the rest of the galaxy. Before they all realized it, two months had passed. 

Their days were occupied by Force training, general chores around camp, and strengthening the bonds that had formed amongst their little group.

Bogano wasn't such a bad planet, after all.

Of course, there were some creature comforts that they found lacking, but Benny was determined to procure whatever was desired. Books, clothing, toys, entertainment. He’d gone around camp and asked everyone if there were any special requests he could try to fill on the next excursion off-planet for supplies.

"Beer." Eddie practically got to his knees when Benny got to him. It was a simple request but he and his friends were getting desperate. They’d even tried brewing some for themselves about a week into their exile. It was just beer, how hard could it be?

Turned out, it was very hard.

"Please," he begged. "I'll take anything. Even if it's just a six-pack of Spacedust Stout. One. Single. Can. I would kiss you."

"I'll see what I can do." Ben chuckled and pushed the younger man away. "Save your puckering for your girlfriend, kid."

Eddie felt his cheeks burn at the jest.

Although he and Thalia hadn’t discussed it, he wouldn’t really call her a girlfriend, per se. Still, over the two months spent on Bogano, their relationship had also progressed. Feelings had developed, and it was more than a little fun. They basked in the pleasure derived from their intimate time spent together, got to know one another more, and moved past the awkward butting heads they had done in the beginning of their acquaintenceship. Instead of dancing around one another, though, they began to dance around everyone else. 

He felt like a kid again, sneaking around to kiss and paw at each other without anyone knowing.

Of course, that meant everyone knew and they'd been caught several times. Max, El, and Erica practically made a game of it, giggling and snickering every time they spotted even the briefest brush between Eddie and Thalia’s hands. The young boys all made gagging noises if they caught a glimpse of a kiss. Robin and Na'ancee awed sweetly whenever they spotted them together around the camp, regardless if they were canoodling or not. But it was the worst when his friends caught them.

Mainly because their loyalty to Eddie only lasted until they were given an opportunity to humiliate him.

"Does Thali know that you talk in your sleep?" Dayv questioned during the campfire one night.

"Does she know you're allergic to blerrgfruit? Has she seen your pus-filled hives and numb tongue?" G'areth was next, practically gagging at the memory.

"Does she know you used to have a crush on Waleesa Mermal?" Jeff asked, snickering at Eddie's adolescent obsession with the Toydarian singer. He still had a signed poster that his father brought home one year, in some luck-of-the-draw remembrance of his birthday.

Well, he used to have it.

It had been aboard the Dragonborn when it was destroyed.

That was another thing that wasn't so bad about Bogano. They’d put hustle and bustle of smuggling on an indefinite hold, but it gave them a chance to make new dreams. Nights around the campfire led to discussions of what the future would look like once Eddie's force training was complete. If it ever was complete.

But somehow, the notion that it would never be over was ok too.

Benny had offered to help them find a new ship and Bob could set them up with enough credits to start over. Stolen credits, but credits nonetheless. The sky was the limit, and they all had ideas.

"Okay, hear me out.” Jeff pointed at his friends across the campfire, brows raised expectantly. "We get a real freighter. Some Rendili rig with proper tags and everything. With individual bunks. Like the Assobs had."

"Ohhh the Assobs," Dayv teased, hands over his heart. "You know, I thought you had a thing for the wife, but maybe you just had a thing for their ship."

G'areth chuckled. "Can you fuck a ship?" 

"Ask Ed. I think of any of us, he's probably the one who's tried."

Eddie did a spit-take at the accusation, jawa juice practically putting out the fire. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You get a little affectionate when you're drunk," Dayv offered.

"And imaginative," G'areth added.

“And we’ve all seen you stroking the hull of the Dragonborn when you didn’t think we were looking,” Jeff concluded.

Eddie stumbled over his words as he tried to defend himself, but the others dogpiled him. Which led to his own teasing in return. His friends were a bunch of pirates and scoundrels—his debauchery wasn't the most outrageous of their bunch.

Eventually they returned to the topic at hand: hopes and dreams. Planets they'd like to see one day. Things they'd like to do.

Eddie shouldn't have been surprised when they all admitted how much they wished to focus on their music more than their smuggling one day. Just like he'd told Thalia on Outpost 86. They'd always been on a similar wavelength, more one soul split into four bodies than four individual beings; they were best friends, bonded for life. 

What really caught him by surprise, though, was their willingness to jump into a cause that wasn't theirs.

"Do you think we'd keep helping the Hidden Path?" Dayv questioned softly as he stared into the fire.

"I...I don't see why not." Jeff hesitated and he turned his gaze to Eddie. "What d'you say Captain? Give a good ol' kark off to the Empire? You can put your new Jedi abilities to good use too."

Eddie frowned.

He knew that he wasn't on this journey on his own, they had always been by his side, but he also knew his friends. Sure, they were a raucous bunch and they enjoyed a good time as much as the next guy would, but they always did their best to help those in need. Usually in the form of a few credits tossed to those less-fortunate.

However, this was something different. This was putting their lives at risk. It was making themselves even bigger targets in the eyes of the Empire. If anything went wrong, it meant their deaths.

"Y-you guys would really want to do that?" he asked.

"Of course," they announced, nearly in tandem.

They started speaking over each other as they explained how cool the kids that they'd already met were, how important it was to keep them safe, how nobody deserved to be hunted down and killed just because they were born a certain way.

"Why shouldn't we help?" G'areth questioned at the end of it all. "Why wouldn't we?"

Eddie briefly wondered if he hadn't been involved in all of this, if he hadn't had this innate connection to the force, would he have been so keen to help, too?

But then he thought of what Thalia said and how easily she'd read him back on Nar Shaddaa...and he knew what his answer was.

"I'm not doing it."

"You are."

"I'm not. Actually, I can't. Literally cannot. I am physically incapable."

"I'm not asking you to scale the side of the Vault with your bare hands," Thalia argued, hands resting on her hips. "We are simply hiking up to the entrance."

Eddie grinned sardonically. "I'm not a hiking type of person, sweetheart.” Thalia rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, ready to head back into camp, but Eddie jogged to grab her by the shoulders to stop her. "Alright, alright. I'll listen."

Training sessions always seemed to go like this: a bit of banter back and forth, reluctance on Eddie's part and either thorough convincing or utter defeat on Thalia's.

They’d agreed early on that they were poor candidates as teacher and student, and instead would take on this challenge as partners instead. Thalia wasn't a conventional user of the Force—definitely not a Jedi Knight—and Eddie wasn't one to strictly follow direction.

"You're the one who said you find my non-conformity attractive," he argued the first time she complained about him not listening to her. He pulled a bit of hair across his face in a sarcastically humble gesture.

"I said that it made you a good candidate for rebelling against the Empire," she fought back, able to see past his act. "And for deviating from the ways of the Jedi Order in order to do so."

Eddie hummed in some agreement, but then grinned slyly. "So you don't think I'm attractive? Or you do? I'm confused." He barked with laughter as she rolled her eyes at him.

Slowly but surely, they began to make progress. Eddie's connection to the Living Force grew every day under Thalia's guidance. They'd come to the realization that his abilities had previously manifested through intuition and prophetic dreams.

"How was I supposed to know that I had the Force?" he questioned, arms thrown into the air in disbelief. "Haven't you ever had a gut feeling before?"

"Yes.” She nodded. "Traditionally, that's when a Jedi Knight would say that they 'trust only in the force.' How normal is it for people to have gut feelings and they wind up being correct? Have the guys ever had gut feelings before?"

"Uhh." Eddie scratched at the back of his neck. "G'ar thought he had a gut feeling about working with Kanjiklub. It turns out his gut feeling was food poisoning. Puked on this guy Tasu Leech’s shoes, ended the whole deal. Ended up saving our asses though."

After that, he got an earful about the difference between a force-user’s gut feeling and indigestion.

Of course, Eddie wasn't the only one who's abilities developed with training. Thalia's seemed to strengthen as well.

"It's like riding a swoop bike, I guess," Thalia admitted as she demonstrated how easy it was for her to move things with the force. "I...hadn't realized how much I'd pushed it away. Even through this journey–finding Benny and Bob...coming to Bogano and reconnecting with the Force. The guilt of surviving kept me from really embracing it."

And that's what led them out past the edge of camp, into the wilderness of Bogano.

The Vault of Bogano was, according to Thalia, the last remaining proof of a long-extinct, force-using civilization that Master Cordova studied. The Vault was ancient and hewn from the earth itself.

"And it's a bitch to get to," she explained. "But it's a worthy pilgrimage. You'll lose yourself along the way, and by the time you get to the entrance of the vault, you'll have found yourself again."

Eddie didn't like the sound of that. "I don't know how a Vault is supposed to help me–us–with fancy magic tricks," he muttered. 

But this had been the path that Thalia had taken alone to rediscover her connection with the force, and she was convinced that it was the first step in getting Eddie to solidify his connection with it too. 

He dragged his eyes up the side of a stone spire breaking the horizon, knowing he’d put up enough of a fight. Thalia tightened her grip on her pack and started the trek.

Bogano wasn’t all flat grasslands as it originally seemed. Far beyond the edge of their habitable camp, the ground opened, revealing layers of sediment and deep canyons. There were remnants of explorers past, small footbridges and ramps, even a few study durasteel pipes that could hold their weight. But they were few and far between.

They needed to traverse the dangerous and unknown in order to reach the Vault. So, despite their silence, they jumped over cracks in the terrain around them, offering boosts and lifts when needed. Eddie kept pointing out unexpected pitfalls or areas where the earth was about to crumble beneath their feet.

Eddie tried to stay positive, focused on the path ahead, and trust that all of his gut feelings were helping them continue onwards. However, the planet itself seemed to have it in for them, and he felt himself wondering just how Thalia had done this on her own. How she survived. 

Every time he thought he could trust his abilities in the force, trust that the path they were on was true, he seemed to make the wrong step. Yet, Thalia was always there to reach out and grab him before he’d fall into a pit or tumble over a cliff’s edge. And he was grateful, of course. He just wished that he didn’t have to rely on her; he’d certainly worked hard enough.

If only he could move things with his mind. He could stop the ground from shifting altogether. 

He felt a little bit childish for even attempting it, so he tried to envision it in his mind as they walked. Not only the act of the ground itself freezing under the strength of his will, but he imagined himself, arm outstretched, fingers splayed as he held the very earth still so they could safely traverse.  It was a novelty. Thalia told him that hand gestures weren’t really necessary when using the Force to move objects, but the physical movement helped manifest the abilities. Maybe if he thought about it, it would happen.

But nothing ever did. And, in the end, his vanity got the better of him, his arms staying at his sides. He was grateful that Thalia stayed silent; he enjoyed her teasing, liked that she gave as good as she got, but could do without her rubbing his lack of skill in his face. Especially in this instance, where he was supposedly going to transform and transcend into a stronger version of himself.

The longer they walked, though, the more he sensed some turmoil within her.

It was odd to feel when she was usually so confident. He wondered what she'd gone through the first time she'd been down this path.

Except he knew what she had gone through, the thoughts and revelations she had in order to come out on the other side with a new life's goal. He thought about what he'd seen in her memories.

Saving those kids–the younglings–and then giving them up to the Empire to save herself.

He swore he heard the phantom echoes of her screams in the ambient sounds of wildlife around them. Then there was a flash in his mind's eye, of a boy covered in blood...and the tortured shadow of a man he became.

"Did you know?" Eddie asked suddenly.

"Did I know what?" Thalia questioned in return.

"Did you know that Steev was alive?"

Thalia didn't flinch at the question. There was no confusion or shock that he knew.

"You were the one who assumed he was dead," she replied in a heavy tone.

"So you knew that was him on Coruscant?"

"This trip is supposed to be for you to discover yourself."

"Well, I would like to discover some more about you first," Eddie pressed.

"What, your hands didn't do enough discovery back at camp?" Thalia shot him a teasing grin, then sobered up when he didn't offer his usual playfulness in return. "Alright. Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What happened to him?" Eddie noticed her expression darken. "I thought he died, just like the others."

"The Steev I knew is dead," she explained.

"Why did he turn against you? Why did he join the Empire? The Inquisitors? He was a Jedi Padawan...he was good."

Thalia stopped in her tracks and Eddie practically ran into her.

"He was good." Then she shook her head. "He is good. Deep down. All of the Inquisitors are, I’m sure. I've been fortunate to avoid them until now, but I know enough. All of their goodness, all of the honor they had as students of the Force, is buried beneath layers of rage and hate and betrayal. Felt towards one thing or another, and the Emperor and the Grand Inquisitor harnessed those feelings to corrupt them. Seduce them to embrace the Dark Side, to give them power. For Steev...Second Brother...that thing is me."

"You mentioned this before...the Dark Side." Eddie frowned. "What does that mean?"

"The Force...is a balance. Light and dark. Often mistaken for good and bad." She shrugged. "The Jedi seemed to think so. Scholars of the force...well, I would like to say they knew better, but the only scholars I know of are...were...Jedi. Jedi teachings condemned the Dark, and said that the Dark Side can only be harnessed through negative emotions. Things like anger, hopelessness, despair."

"We've all felt things like that before," he said, nearly dismissive. “How is that bad?”

"But what happens when you can feel the mechanics of the universe?" Thalia looked at him expectantly. "When you can control the world around you? One moment you’re powerless, then the next? You’re able to stomp out all of the sources of your pain with a thought. The Jedi understood how tempting it was, so they tried to quash it by encouraging a distinct lack of emotion. A lack of connection. The Sith embraced it, but then, historically, there were too many Sith all fighting one another to be the most powerful, and it corrupted them. Power and control through the Dark Side…it comes at a cost. It becomes easy to lose yourself."

"You seem like you know a lot about this. Have you ever..." he trailed off.

"We've all fallen prey to our humanity before," she whispered. She closed her eyes and smiled, a secret little wicked expression he'd never seen grace her features before. "Sometimes when you’re at the lowest, you let the darkness in. Little indulgences feel so good, but if you’re not careful, you give it a place to fester and grow." Her smile faded, and her eyes snapped open again. Full of guilt. "And then the hatred comes and only hurts people. But I try to focus on the light as much as I can. On helping others."

Yes, she did, didn't she? In Eddie’s mind, she personified the light. He couldn’t imagine her hurting others. It seemed, especially given how heavily her guilt weighed on her, that she didn’t think so highly of herself.

Then he thought of the Inquisitors—of Steev, especially—and that burning red lightsaber. Of the danger in his voice and the anger that emanated from him. 

"And Steev lost himself in it?"

"Yes, in his pain.” She nodded. "In his search for revenge against the Jedi for failing him. Failing us. And against me.”

There was a beat as her expression crumpled for a moment, before she recovered. Before she hid it.

“He blames me for letting them die,” she muttered. “Because I was the one who revealed their location to the Empire. He blames me, even though he was the one who killed them.”

Shock erupted through Eddie at the revelation. That hadn’t been in her memory. He’d only seen the red blade before he’d been thrown out. Steev had killed those kids? He’d killed R'sshekh? His friend? And he’d tried to kill Thalia, too?

“Second Brother killed them,” she continued, correcting Eddie as though she could hear his thoughts. “Second Brother killed as much of himself as he could, but there’s still a part of him that feels that void and he’s looking for a way to eliminate it. You can’t fill a bottomless hole, but when you’ve already succumbed to the Dark Side of the Force, it’s easy to try. Now that he's caught wind of me...I'm sure that he'll feed into the Darkness even to get his revenge and destroy whatever humanity…whatever goodness is left."

Eddie swallowed thickly, but nodded, satisfied with the explanation. Well, if you could call the mixture of emotions he needed to mull over satisfaction.

A thought popped into his head, then, as he thought about his own clandestine past and about the whirl of emotions—of goodness and badness, dark and light—within him.

"What about me?" he asked softly. "Do you think I'd ever be capable of darkness like that?"

"I don't think I can answer that Eddie," Thalia said, turning away from him to continue along their path. "Only you can."

Eddie tried not to let Thalia's words get the better of him, but he couldn't help it.

He analyzed and maybe even over-analyzed every moment of his past. He thought of all the possibilities of the future. With every step they took, he spiraled further and further into doubt.

Who was he? Who would he become?

He didn't think he was a mean and hateful person, but he did reserve those dark feelings for people like his father...or towards the empire.

However, those feelings had never served him; they never made him stronger or his life better. His friends, his uncle, his hopes and dreams, they were the things that drove him to make something of himself. They had brought all the good things to his life.

In the end, they had gotten him here: meeting Thalia and finding power hidden deep within himself and getting stronger on his own. As much as the journey had been tumultuous, the reward was sweet. Almost a relief.

Because he knew what it felt like to be powerless.

His insides stirred uncomfortably at the thought.

Powerless...powerful. Thalia had said that, hadn't she? The Dark Side made you feel powerful. If he felt powerful now, did that mean it was already too late? That he was already succumbing to the Dark Side?

"I have another question," Eddie announced then realized, suddenly, that he was alone. He stopped in his tracks and pivoted on his heel to look around for her. "Thalia? Where are you? Thalia!"

His voice echoed over the rigid walls of the narrow gap they'd been walking through. Had he been so deep in his thoughts that he'd lagged behind? Or had she stopped for a break and he’d simply soldiered ahead without realizing he'd left her? He looked back and forth, then called for her to no avail again.

He closed his eyes, tried to reach deep into the ground below to try and find her. He could sense everything, so he should've been able to sense the echo of her footsteps traveling through the force, but nothing.

His eyes popped open and he frowned. Where was she?

She couldn't have been far; he could find her. Which way should he go, though? Forward...or back?

"We were heading to the Vault...she knew the way..." he muttered to himself. "Which means if I try to head that way, we might catch up to one another regardless."

He mulled it over for a minute.

"Unless I get lost," he rubbed a hand over his mouth, down to his chin. "At least now, I know the way back. Even if I don't make it to the vault, she has to head back at some point too."

It made the most sense.

But as he made to head back towards camp, the path ahead of him seemed to stretch on endlessly. Impossibly. He felt sick to his stomach, felt the world spin, and it wasn't made right until he turned to forge ahead.

"Getting sick of these gut feelings," he sighed. "But I guess I have to trust in the force."

He continued onwards.

Unfortunately, onwards meant deeper into the wilderness of Bogano. Where pathways got sparse and wild things roamed. He was forced to draw his blaster a few times to dispatch of the intrusive, wild Bog Rats and Splox that crossed his path. He tried to leave them alone as much as he could; he and Thalia had been working on his ability to influence the will of those around him, but he wasn't quite good enough yet.

It nearly gutted him to kill the ones who attacked, the feeling of them dying leached into his body uncontrollably through his connections to the Living Force. But what was he supposed to do? Let them take a bite out of his leg? Or his throat?

He didn't hesitate, though, when someone else was at risk.

Or, rather, something else.

There was a great debate about whether or not droids were living things. A remnant of times past, but surely made worse by the Clone Wars. To Eddie though, it was a no-brainer. Of course they were living beings. D5-TN was an example of that; he had a personality, he was alive, and he was Eddie's little buddy. One of his best friends.

So when Eddie saw a small BD Explorer droid in the jaws of one of the creatures of the bog, he jumped to save it.

His well-aimed blaster bolt hit the Bog Rat square in the chest, sending it and the tiny droid flying. The droid squealed upon impact, but was able to recover quickly. It was a little worse for wear, its casing caked with dust and muck. It even limped on its fragile little legs, but it approached Eddie with grateful beeps regardless.

"Hey, buddy," Eddie took a knee to get closer to his new friend. He held a hand out, causing the BD-unit's antennae to swivel backwards like a distrusting critter would. Eddie pulled back. "Sorry, I was just trying to help."

BD-1 beeped and chirped, accepting the apology, then circled him. The droid's lens zoomed in and out as it observed Eddie, then the small holo-scanner came to life and analyzed his blaster.

"Sorry," Eddie said again and holstered it. He folded his arms across his chest and glanced around. "You're welcome, by the way."

BD-1 honked a sarcastic retort, but thanked him nonetheless.

"What're you doing out here by yourself?"

BD-1 beeped an excited little explanation. He was an explorer droid, so obviously that meant it was his job to explore. His holoprojector came to life and showed a map of the surrounding pathways with a red indicator showing where they were.

Eddie traced the path towards the Vault. He'd ventured off the path he should've taken, but he hadn't been that far off. There wasn't even much further to go—the Vault was just a little ways away. And across a zipline over a deep canyon. And up a hill. Kriff.

"How did you map that all by yourself?" he questioned the little droid, earning a continuation of the spirited binary description. BD-1 was apparently very good at navigating around all the hard-to-get-to places on Bogano. "Not great at avoiding the locals, though, huh?"

Poor BD, apparently sick of Eddie's shit, attempted to scurry away. But Eddie was quick to catch up to him and apologize to the droid yet again.

"I'm on my way to meet a friend...how about we help each other out?" he offered. "You tell me how to get there, and I keep you safe from whatever might try to turn you into an afternoon snack?"

The droid seemed amenable to the offer, and even let Eddie pick him up.

"Actually, you haven't seen my friend in your travels, have you? We got separated a while back, I'm trying to find her." BD-1 tilted his head back and forth in question and Eddie held a hand out approximating Thalia's figure before him. "About this tall, blue-ish hair. Kinda mean, but don't tell her I said that."

BD whistled sadly, and Eddie figured if BD hadn't encountered her on the path, that must've meant she headed back to camp.

Should he turn back? He was so close.

But Thalia wanted him to make it to the Vault, she wanted him to make this journey. 

So, he would.

Onwards he went, chatting with BD-1, who was perched on his shoulder, truly grateful for the company. BD was also very knowledgeable about Bogano; he'd lived on the planet practically for the entire length of his memory. He guided Eddie seamlessly.

"Do you know about our camp? You could come back with me," Eddie offered. "My buddy Dusty...uh, D5-TN...he could use a friend.” He thought about how mean Dustin got sometimes. “Mmm…on second thought, maybe not. But I'm sure there'll be space for you; you're not exactly a large model, no offense. We can fix your leg, and you could charge up too. Where do you even charge your batteries out here, huh?"

BD told Eddie about a workshop and his master, who had sent him on his mission to survey the entire planet. Unfortunately, there was only one of him, and his master hadn't been around for a while to check in. So BD took his time, enjoying things like sunrises and stars, but he was beginning to worry that he was losing his purpose.

The little droid beeped sadly, saying how nice it felt to help someone again.

"I know the feeling," Eddie agreed.

He was about to go into detail about his own interlude with purposelessness when he came to the long and narrow canyon; the zipline that BD-1 had previously projected was, unfortunately, damaged. It hung limply from where it was anchored on the other side.

Eddie leaned over the edge of the bluff and looked into the pit below. He could see the bottom, and the remnants of the river that had carved deep into the rock. It was far enough down that he would definitely break both of his legs trying to jump, if not die altogether. Looking back up, he figured that the walls of the canyon were too smooth to scale, so he couldn't exactly climb to the top. And there were no ledges for him to try and shimmy across.

The Zaur lizards seemed to have no problem with it, launching themselves at the walls of the canyon. They seemingly defied gravity to reach the other side.

Lucky shits.

"How are we gonna make it across?" he asked BD. "Do you know a way around?"

But BD insisted that this was the only safe way for Eddie.

"I wouldn't exactly call this safe," Eddie huffed and crossed his arms in irritation. He stood there, trying to come up with an idea. Any idea. But it seemed impossible. "I wonder if the zipline had been broken the first time Thalia came through here. How the hell had she done this–oh!"

Just because he couldn't sense where Thalia was now didn't mean he couldn't use the Force to see what she'd done in the past.

Echoes in the force...he could use them to see how to cross. If he could, that is.

He knelt down and let his finger brush over the sparse grasses at his feet; BD-1 hopped off his shoulder and stared at him curiously as he closed his eyes and tried to feel something. Anything. It would be a hell of a moment for the force to fail him.

No, he couldn't doubt himself like that; he had to instill trust.

Eddie took a breath, then a second. He listened to the small mechanical whirring of BD-1 beside him, the sounds of the wilderness beyond, even the wind blowing eerily through the canyon.

And he was transported.

Although, could it really be considered that if he hadn't moved at all? He was standing in the same spot, but the sky above him had changed. Instead of the serene blue of the afternoon, the sky was streaked with the reds and oranges of sunset.

This place felt different from the memory he'd been in before; a memory embedded into the ground instead of attached to a person.

BD-1 was gone, but Thalia was in his place. She was younger, but not by much. Older than she had been in the memory of the Jedi Temple; the weariness had already set in. She ran her hands over her face and through her curls, then sighed.

Eddie followed her eyes across the valley to see that, yes, the zipline was damaged, even back then.

She began to pace back and forth. As she did, he noticed the glint of metal in the sunlight. A lightsaber clipped to her belt.

He wondered when he was going to get one of those. If he was ever going to. Chances seemed slim. He couldn't even make it to the damn Vault like he was supposed to...but, then again, neither could Thalia...

"What did Master Cordova used to say? Difficult paths are usually the ones most worthy of traversing," she muttered out loud.

"It's really creepy that you seem to be able to read my thoughts here, too," he joked. The Force must've had a sense of humor, showing him this when all he wanted to know was how to get across this damn canyon.

She ignored him and instead sat on the edge of the bluff, legs dangling over the edge. Eddie dropped to sit beside her.

"I'm not good enough for this," she muttered to herself. "Why did I even come here?"

He felt a pang in his chest, sharing in the discouragement. Even with all of her secrets, he knew that this had been a difficult journey for her. Just like it was currently difficult for him, finding this new part of himself. Becoming something he only ever dreamed. For Thalia, though...this hadn't even been her dream. Hadn't she said that she'd given up on ever becoming a Jedi.

She was forced to become this through necessity, staring failure in the face at every turn. But she overcame it.

And so could he.

"You are good enough, you know," Eddie told her matter-of-factly, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. "You made it across. You did it. I just need to know how, so I can do it, too."

She huffed a sigh and stared at the rock face that lined the valley. At the Zaur lizards. Her head swiveled back and forth, analyzing the narrowness of the canyon.

Then a grin broke out on her face.

"Oh, I don't like that look," Eddie muttered as she stood up. He got to his feet as well and watched as she hopped on her toes, stretched her legs, and got her energy flowing. "Please don't tell me you're about to do what I think you're about to do."

Of course, that's exactly what she did.

Thalia took a few steps back to get a running start, then jumped and propelled herself across the jagged rocks in a wall run. She hopped to the other side of the narrow canyon and repeated the action.

To the naked eye, it looked like a great athletic feat. But to Eddie, surrounded by and in-tune with this memory, he could sense the way she channeled the unseen energies of the force around her to keep herself upright. It practically lifted her, light as a feather.

And then, just as she reached the other side, she hopped and crashed to the ground on the opposite bluff with a joyous whoop of laughter. Eddie couldn't help but feel proud.

Then he was pushed out of the echo and found himself back in the present, alongside BD-1.

He gulped as he looked up at the canyon.

He hadn't even been able to float a rock...didn't have the courage to try. How was he going to replicate what she had done?

But there was no other way. He had to do it.

And he would do it. Because she had done it.

He had to believe in himself...and trust in the force.

BD-1 beeped curiously beside him.

"Uh, I think we're gonna have to jump," Eddie explained, straightening to his full height. He leaned and looked back down at the depths below. "I have a plan. It'll either work...or we'll fall to our deaths."

BD beeped again, unsure, but Eddie hoisted him onto his shoulder regardless.

"You might wanna hang on."

He envisioned Thalia in his mind’s eye, the steps she took, the emotions she felt. The determination. He would not fail. 

He readied himself for a running start and then leapt over the precipice. His stomach dropped at the brief feeling of gravity pulling him downwards, and, for a moment, time slowed. But then he imagined himself floating, like the objects that she floated with her powers. He thought of the way she stopped that blaster bolt from hitting him back on Outpost 86. The gentleness of her hand, the untold strength behind it.

That same hand could, in theory, hold him up here too. Only it was his strength in the force, not hers.

His right foot hit the rock wall first, a jarring impact that he used to propel himself forward. The next step and the next step. And when he felt himself being pulled downwards, he launched himself across the void to the other side. One foot, then the next, then the next, and back.

Until he leapt forward and his body crashed against the edge of the bluff. All of the air escaped his lungs, but he used the last little scraps of his strength to hoist himself up and to safety.

"I did it," he laughed. "I kriffing did it!"

He didn’t realize they’d made it to the Vault until he rounded a corner. There it was, towering over him forebodingly, reaching up, up, into the sky. At this proximity, he realized that it wasn't just a cylindrical monolith, rather something forked, with half-cylinders flanking a shorter structure at the center.

"We did it." He laughed and looked down at BD-1. "I did it."

The droid chirped happily and hopped several times to congratulate him.

"I'll race you up there?" BD-1 beeped twice and then, with a speed that his damaged leg belied, raced up the inclined pathway toward the Vault's entrance. "Oh, you little cheater."

Eddie took off running after him, laughing all the while. He was out of breath by the time he reached the top, where BD was waiting triumphantly.

He turned around and surveyed the landscape before him; he could see everything.The stretches of grass and the canyons and valleys; there were large creatures...large enough to jump across canyons without any hesitation or difficulty. What a wonder they were.

The first time he and his friends had traveled through space, he thought that he would feel small. Seeing how minuscule he was in comparison to his home planet, let alone the galaxy. Instead, he'd felt larger than life. Literally on top of the world.

He felt...insignificant. But, not in a negative way. He felt like he was part of something so much bigger than he could ever understand. One spark of life, of light amidst a sea of shining, living beings.

It was exhilarating.

BD-1's chirps got Eddie's attention, and when he went to investigate, he found the little droid scanning the moss-covered inscriptions in the copper-colored metal of the Vault's door. The glyphs didn't mean anything to Eddie, a lost language, and he made a mental note of their shapes to write down in his journal back at camp.

"If I was the chief architect of an ancient, extinct, force-wielding civilization," Eddie muttered. "What would I use as the key to open a door?"

But the answer was in the question, wasn't it?

He ran his hands over the door until he instinctively sensed a point that felt just right. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, opened his heart, to his surroundings.

He didn't need to do much before the door took shape in his imagination. Cogs and mechanical parts, motorized pieces frozen in time, waiting for someone to come and activate them. He reached deep into his heart and tried to will the parts to move.

You will go, you will open.

There was the slightest budge, but they largely remained frozen.

Eddie huffed in irritation, but furrowed his brow to try and concentrate harder. He imagined the cogs moving, the whole mechanism churning, the door opening. He could sense it, phantom shifting under his fingertips, but the door remained still.

He pushed himself away from the door, unexpectedly out of breath.

"Why won't you open!" he shouted, and slammed his fists against the door. A loud metallic clang echoed throughout the vault antechamber and into the wilderness of Bogano. "What am I doing wrong?"

But could he blame himself? He'd only just started learning; this was probably nothing when it came to someone who was well-versed in their abilities in the force. What could he do? Have dreams and gut feelings and attempt to feel in-tune with the Living Force, but he could barely move a door.

"Maybe I could move one cog, but not a whole kriffing door," he scoffed.

Wait a minute.

Eddie thought about the mechanism that would open this door. The many cogs and pieces. They all interlocked and propelled each other forward. Just like he was a part of a bigger whole, one being in the greater populous of the galaxy. One spark of light amongst many.

He didn't need to move all of the parts to get the door open. He only needed to move one.

He closed his eyes and tried again, touching the door with the very tips of his fingers. He cast himself back into the door, sensing every part. He tried to use the mechanical know-how he had to figure out which cog was the key to getting the door to move, and in the end, he was almost shocked that it was the smallest one.

He tried not to get his hopes up as he willed the small gear to turn, but once it did–easily, in fact–the whole mechanism began to move.

Eddie stepped back and watched in amazement as the ancient door creaked and croaked and slowly rose upwards in a cloud of dust.

"I did it," he said for the second time that day. "I can do it."

Emboldened by his successes, he pivoted on his heel to try and lift a nearby rock into midair. He confidently lifted his hand, fingers twitching, so he could will the rock to fly into his grasp. It trembled...but didn't move.

"Alright," he said with a sigh, lowering his hand. He looked down to BD-1, who stared back up at him. "I can't win 'em all."

He gestured for BD to follow him into the narrow path past the threshold of the Vault Door, and then proceeded onwards.

It was narrow, dusty, and dark. Thankfully, BD-1 scurried between his legs to lead the way and shine a light on the path before them.

Eddie stared in awe as the path opened into a vast, dimly-lit subterranean chamber. From what he could see, the walls were intricately carved, made of a material that was something between wood and metal. The ground of the chamber was partially flooded with murky rainwater, but he could still see a dais at the center of the room. And floating above it, a glowing green cube.

"Woah." 

He took a few steps forward as BD-1 raced into and around the room, holo-scanner roving over the various surfaces. By the time BD reached the cube though, he stopped scanning, and instead chose to project a hologram.

Basking in a blue glow, there stood a man dressed in traditional Jedi robes. His arms were crossed sagely over his chest, and his face was just about as stern as Uncle Wane's was.

"Well done, whoever you are," he greeted. "You've gained access to the Vault and this recording. I am Jedi Master Eno Cordova. I may not know your name but I know your purpose. The fate of the galaxy lies in your hands."

"So this is Master Cordova.” Eddie looked down at BD-1 and smirked. "He's chatty."

On and on, the projection continued. Cordova talked about Bogano and the Zeffo and his vision of the fall of the Jedi Order. He even gestured to the floating cube, a holocron; how it contained the names of young force-sensitives throughout the galaxy.

It all clicked in Eddie's head; this was how Thalia found him, found all of them.

"Ahead, you will find the inner chamber of the vault." Cordova gestured behind him. "But it also contains another test. In order to unlock the holocron, you must pass it. I can only trust this holocron to someone who has followed my path."

"You can also give BD-1 fifty credits and he'll let you pass," Thalia's voice echoed throughout the Vault, from behind Eddie, causing him to jump and swear in surprise. She laughed at his dramatic response, along with BD, who stopped projecting and snickered mechanically.

"You...you...you trickster." Eddie scoffed at her, pointing an accusing finger. "You let me think...how dare...where were you?!"

“I could sense the doubt in you,” she replied with a grin. “You were so worried that you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself, that you got in your own way. So I removed your safety net—me—so you had no other choice but to succeed.”

Eddie stammered over a response, but Thalia continued.

"Of course, I was trailing just behind you in case I needed to save your ass. Which I knew I wouldn't have to."

Eddie blinked at her.

"But just in case?"

"Yeah, just in case. So. How has it been? How do you feel?"

He hesitated to answer, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess...I mean...pretty great, actually."

She beamed at him, and he sent a bashful smile back. She looked down at BD-1 and winked. “Did good old BD here tell you all of my secrets?”

"You know this droid?" Eddie scoffed at how stupid the question was. "Of course you do."

Thalia reached down and gently picked BD-1 up to examine his damaged leg, tsking all the while. "He was Master Cordova's," she explained. "So I'm a little protective. But he's very independent. Getting into all sorts of trouble."

"Eddie Reckless and BD-Troublemaker," Eddie commented, flicking the droid's antenna good-naturedly. He pouted. "So you lied to me about having a purpose."

BD-1 whistled out a sad apology, but quickly explained that he didn't really have a purpose until his master returned. If he returned. In the meantime, he was content in helping whoever, whenever.

The droid tried to keep going, but Eddie shushed him and said he understood. "We can still be friends though, right?"

BD whistled happily and launched himself out of Thalia's grip, straight into Eddie's, earning a laugh from the two humans.

"So, now that you're here..." Eddie looked at Thalia expectantly. "Do I need to pass this test? Or..."

Thalia cut him off. "It isn’t Cordova’s holocron. No need to pass the test; I already did. You're free to take it. Open it. There’s something important inside."

He hesitated to reach out, unsure of what to expect. But, he took it in the end. Thalia instructed him on how to open it, and he closed his eyes to channel his connection to the force.

It glowed and, slowly, the pieces started shifting of their own volition, as if the object recognized the force within him. It probably did. From its depths, another hologram was emitted, and this time he found himself face to face with another childhood hero.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the Jedi announced solemnly. “I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen…”

Eddie’s eyes shot up to Thalia, whose gaze stayed focused on the projection. He turned his own focus back to it.

“...with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and reminder for all surviving Jedi: Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time a new hope will emerge. May the force be with you. Always.”

The projection flickered and disappeared, and the holocron’s pieces slid back together.

Eddie stared at the artifact for a moment, and let the message sink into him. Into the depths of his heart, the marrow of his bones.

His eyes slid shut as he let the feeling settle, let it mingle with all of the other feelings that had coursed through him on this journey.

Something stirred within him, some shift in energy; his grip on the holocron lightened, and eventually he pulled his hand away from the cube. When he opened his eyes, it was there, floating right where he’d released it. 

He was making it float, and he willed it to drift right back to the center of the dais, where it had been just moments ago.

He did it. Of course he did.

He had questions. So many questions. But the answers would come in time.

For now, all he needed to do was trust in the force by trusting in himself, because the force was with him. Always.

He looked to Thalia, who stared at him with some unknown emotion in her eye.

“Alright,” he said to Thalia. “Where to next?”

Next Chapter: Episode 8 - Strange Dreams, Stranger Deceptions

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA - me and my bestfriend (bsf) of six years recently got into a 2 week long argument and at this point have stopped talking. First i need to provide some back ground of the situation. Last November i became friends with “J”. This itself caused some arguments because they have similar names and sometimes i’d slip and call bsf, J, on accident and would immediately apologize. After a couple times of this happening she got really upset but i explained i’d been doing the same to J and she seemed to be less upset about it.

In the beginning of January, J and her bestfriend “E” got into some pretty serious drama where information from both sides never matched up but i’d known and used to be friends with E for a while. He is not a great guy speaking from past experience. (he constantly talks about how he’s a narcissist very proudly) He was claiming they had slept together and was telling all of his friends about it. She was saying they hadn’t. These rumors had been going around for months about them but had died down until this. the problem is i believed J but bsf was close with E and sided with him. I’d like to make a note through this entire situation neither me or bsf played any roll in it to my knowledge. this was just between E and J. Later on i found out they had slept together from J and asked why she had said they hadnt she said it was an agreement between the two of them that they wouldn’t say anything to anyone else because of the rumors people were already spreading about them being together. But once she found out it was definitely him telling people this time she told me the truth. yeah they had slept together then he forced her to take a plan B even though he knew she was on birth control and they’d used a condom. then ghosted her and pretended not to know her when asked by Js twins sisters best-friend.

Now it’s about 3 weeks ago where i posted two separate story’s saying how much i loved J and her sister and the other about how much i love bsf. about 10 minutes later bsf texted me “just delete this.” i of course asked why but she never responded so i took it down like she asked. later that day she reply’s to a text i had sent her the day before saying “nothing much just wishing i was hanging out with you” she replied “right.” at this point i’m genuinely confused what’s happening i had a feeling it was about J somehow because every time i posted about J it would be the one thing she didn’t like or comment on and she would get annoyed when i’d mention some thing me and J had done recently. i immediately replied with “of course, i love hanging out with you. your my best friend” A couple hours later she send me a three paragraph message saying how she didn’t think that anymore because i was ignoring everything she was telling me about what E was saying. That i was only taking J’s side and always talking about what J was saying about her side. She said I was using her as a separate option that if J couldn’t hang out i would call her. etc at the end of the message she told me she would never make me choose but that she will never trust anything J says. (they’ve literally never met or talked the only thing she hears about J is through E or me) she ends it with do whatever you want to do but don’t do anything for me. keep being friends with her idk i’m keeping my distance from all that. I replied with a message basically saying that she wasn’t the second option, i wasn’t sure who to trust, and that i try to avoid talking about the situation with J. we go back and forth with her apologizing for how she’s acting then getting mad about me not just believing her over everything else i’m being told. Then she tried to claim she never said J was wrong but that she knows she’s lied to me (the thing i mentioned in the first paragraph is the only time she’s lied to me) that she never picked a side and that she can’t believe how hurt she feels when “i’m supposed to be her bestfriend” i brought up the fact that i had asked her more than once if me being friends with her bothered her and she always said no. That this wouldn’t have exploded like this if we could have talked it out before. she took that as me saying this was all her fault.

A couple days later she messages me asking to talk in person i say when and where but she just send me a message about her feelings anyways again apologizing for how she’s acting and that she felt i wasn’t listening to her but it hurt more to lose me etc but continuing to say she doesn’t think i should be friends with J but it’s my choice. I reply i was listening but i think we were both just trying to find the facts in a situation we will never really know who was lying 100%. but i made a point in the massage to say i wasn’t going to stop being friends with J and that i didn’t understand why me and bsf relationship was so affected by me and J’s. She gets mad again bringing up a hate account that was made claiming J had made it but J had shown me that she hadn’t and it was investigated by our school who also said she didn’t do it. that it was my choice to be friends with her but that i don’t understand how it’s affecting her and that it wasn’t fair. at this point i was really mad because it really felt like she was trying to force me to choose between them two in a way. i replied saying she hadn’t made the account and said i don’t think J is the reason we stopped talking and that i feel like she was making me choose even though she was saying she wasn’t. she then replied saying she didn’t make me choose but that i had chose J over her and “that i guess you though she needed more attention” (yeah maybe because J is not mentally handling this well at all and your fine because your not actually involved with this drama) i didn’t reply to her but about another week later i texted her “i just want to be friends with both of you. why can’t i do that” she replied i understand but i don’t think you should be friends with she’s not a good person but hope your having fun it’s all i wanted for you. that’s the end of the messages at this point.

TLDR : (do we do those here??) bestfriend of three years stopped talking to me because i became friends with another girl who later got into drama with best friends close friend E (A PROUDLY SELF PROCLAIMED NARCISSIST I MIGHT ADD)

What are these acronyms?

[sarafangirlart]

idk if this is allowed, pls delete if not cause it's really just me ranting!! I genuinely think Katherine Marsh is incapable of nuance. Specifically with Athena, she portrays the goddess as very masculine, the only reference to Athena's more feminine side is just a random scene where she weaves something absentmindedly because she's bored. Surprisingly enough, I actually prefer Stone Blind's Athena over this one, and that's the only time you'll ever hear me praising Stone Blind. Hephaestus is a good guy, so he has no flaws and we completely ignore his crimes against the 'villain' of the story. Demeter is a good guy so we don't touch upon her anger or her crimes against other women, she's just a sad middle-aged woman. Hera's a good guy so any of her potential crimes are excused as not being her own, and the fault is placed onto others. Ava doesn't face any consequences for her actions. She receives two write-ups, and the third is never given to her, meaning she isn't expelled. Fia loses her voice because Athena cursed her, but if we're writing fanfic of Ovid's work, Athena could (and should) have turned her into something much worse. Layla is cursed by Hera in the second book, and it's all but forgotten by the time of the final 'showdown'. I hate Athena in this book series, but she's genuinely the best written character, though the bar is in hell at this point. And Athena has no nuance. Her good deeds, where she saves women from being assaulted or avenges them and sets up the demise of their abusers? Not mentioned at all. Her aiding Hera during the Trojan War other Argonautica? Not spoken of once. Athena getting along with Aphrodite and the other goddesses, fashioning outfits for Hera and being a good sister to Artemis? Bold of you to assume Artemis is mentioned. Sorry if this is long or annoying. The Myths Of Monsters series is one I genuinely despise, and most people (thankfully) don't know about it, and Athena's my favorite Greek goddess so I haven't been able to rant about her portrayal here that much before.

Honestly it’s been so long since a retelling made me this genuinely angry, I could pick a random paragraph, read it and find 50 different things wrong with it.

Speaking of lack of nuance, Perseus’s character! It seems every time retelling authors want to make any hero (which includes Theseus, Heracles, Jason and others) an antagonist they don’t actually delve into said hero’s actual flaws within mythology, they just make him some prideful arrogant jerk and leave it at that, no complexity no nuance nothing. They just base him of a man they dislike irl like a school bully, mean teacher, toxic ex, abusive family member and even alpha male podcasters.

I’ve said it a million times but you can make an antagonistic Perseus in a way that works, actually read up on his character! What would Perseus be like as a monster school headmaster? That’s an interesting concept, he killed Medusa and Cetus (and some unnamed wild woman in an obscure source lol) but he was also friends with a group of Cyclopes, he trusted them to look after his wife, mother and grandmother in Argos while he went to look for Acrisius, later they helped him build the walls of Mycenae. This is a hero who has a complicated relationship with monsters, you can explore that!

He’s also the type to take his opponents deadly seriously, while other kings shrugged off Dionysus as some hippie weirdo with an army of women, Perseus confronted him head on. Also if you wanna go with Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Perseus straight up kills a teenager with a log bc he was shooting at him with arrows, CLEARLY this is a man who doesn’t discriminate between men, women and children lol so he would not dismiss the book’s protagonists as just children or just girls, he’d take them as a genuine threat, but not only that he’d actually respect them, Perseus never starts a confrontation, he’s always pushed into it, he almost always tries to settle a conflict through civil means, it’s only when he’s backed to a corner and angered that he resorts to insults and unnecessary cruelty.