#variego

[bytedykes]

[ID: Endless Summer from Choices fanart. The first is a headshot of Diego in his Book 2-3 look, bearded with long hair and his shirt unbuttoned. He smiles awkwardly and is labeled "he looks like a beatle..." The second image is a drawing of Diego and Varyyn kissing with tongue, with a doodle of a person grinning manically with explosions around them looking at them labeled "fujo (me)". There's also a tiny drawing of Diego doing a thumbs up.

In the third image a simple drawing of Book 1 Diego grins and says "Wow I can't wait to have a normal vacation!" an arrow points to a drawing of Book 2 Diego doing the Roblox smirk, he says "I'm gay now". There's also a chest up drawing of Varyyn with sparkles around his bare chest. /end ID]

does anyone remember endless summer. holy shit the last time i posted es fanart was like 2 years ago

[marmolady]

Never Had A Friend Like Me: Part One

Hey, @mauvecatfic... some Diego for you!

Summary: Endless Ending timeline. Elderly Diego and Taylor reflect on a lifelong friendship. Part one of two.

Word Count: 3741

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, ​@mauvecatfic @rhemenway888

Thanks for reading!

__________________________

La Huerta, 2090

“Hey--” Taylor said as she settled down amongst the soft cushions of her favourite chair, knowing full well she’d be needing to call in assistance when the time came to haul her old body up from them, “I came up with the perfect idea for our next marathon.”

“’Marathon’? Between the two of us, we’re lucky to get through one movie without someone dozing off.” Diego grinned at his friend. His best friend of seventy years.

“That’s what makes it a marathon, because it takes so damn long. We take our time, savouring the laughs, the tears, and appreciating the artform.” A glass of wine, some cheeses, to break it up. And the two of them would reminisce, and Diego would point out his favourites of the crew’s filmmaking choices… or those that were notably bad.

“How about ‘the Zac Efron trifecta’?” Taylor suggested, showing her age. “High School Musical, followed by Hairspray, followed by The Greatest Showman.”

“Let’s just see if we can get through ‘Julie Andrews Fest’ first, okay?”

They did this fairly often. Just chilling out to the tune of films meeting their assigned theme. At the age they were, ‘just chilling out’ was pretty much requisite. Taylor’s arthritis had worsened considerably in the last year, and Diego’s respiratory issues were easily triggered by any amount of exertion. They were reasonably healthy nonogenerians… but they were nonogenerians.

You got to an age where you didn’t know when your best-friend-movie-weekend would be your last one. Naturally, a lot of the choices were deeply nostalgic old comforts. Created from nothing into a white American woman with a built-in noughties childhood and adolescence, the lyrics to all the songs in High School Musical-- and some of the dance routines too-- were something innate to Taylor. She’d been born with it. Later, she’d discovered that Quinn had been obsessed with the series as a kid and had found it a comfort as she shared it with her mom during long months housebound. When Vaanu was piecing together what ‘human’ looked like, something from Quinn’s consciousness must have been picked up. So many of those little things made up Taylor, and now that so many of her friends had passed on, they meant all the more.

There weren’t many of them left now. Quinn, who’d fought so valiantly to even survive adolescence, was still hanging on, the youngest of the group at coming up to ninety-four. Estela was still there, rather more mobile than the others, but then she was stubborn, gritting her teeth through the aches and pains and soldiering on. Aleister was… struggling. Taking one day at a time since the loss of his beloved Grace some months before. But he got up in the morning, and found his inner strength when needed to chide his sister for being a pig-headed idiot pushing her shrinking limits too far. Zahra had long been a respected figure among the Vaanti, and she was still the go-to person for technological know-how, even though anyone seeking her help was advised to do so only with an armoured layer of thick skin. She did ‘cantankerous and acerbic old woman’ to perfection, and her mind remained just as sharp as her tongue.

Taylor leaned back in her chair, feet up on an ottoman and wearing a well-worn pair of slippers.

“We’re going to have to become more selective,” she admitted. “And I know we traditionally do movies, but one last Doctor Who binge?”

Everything was getting to be ‘the last time’. Diego had put off their re-watch of The Lord of the Rings trilogy time and time again for that very reason; saying goodbye needed to be given the weight it deserved. Soon, he’d brave it, but for that one, Varyyn would need to join them.

“You couldn’t have picked a longer running series, Tay?” Diego teased. “We’ve got decades of life left in us to watch this stuff, you know….”

“Oh, ha-ha. You know I’m a David Tennant era girl. The rest I’ll take or leave. Like I said, we should be selective.”

Diego grunted a chuckle, and readied the next movie in their Julie-Andrews-a-thon, The Sound of Music, pausing before pressing ‘play’.

“Hey, I said ‘selective’, not that we couldn’t watch this-- you know I love--”

“Yeah, but think of the big old family sing-along we could make out of this,” he said, eyes twinkling. “We could even drag Zahra up here, keep her heckling muscles strong.”

Taylor’s grin broadened. Her family and Diego’s family were one and the same. Liv and her spouse, Jeimy, had lived on La Huerta a few years now-- and Rosa had lived there for a few decades. Their family was human, and Vaanti, with grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and nephews and nieces, and in-laws. It was their weird little family they’d made at the end of the world, and then everything that had grown from there.

“All right, I’ll share my bestie… this time. But we’re telling the hordes to bring their own snacks.”

“You’re on.”

They waited together in companiable quiet for the others to arrive. Taylor found herself studying the peaceful profile of her old friend as he began to doze. No doubt, he still felt a young twenty-something on the inside, just as she did. She could almost still see that young man, somewhere beneath the grey hair and the wrinkles that told a lifetime of stories.

Their stories.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2078

“Here you go,” Taylor said, a smile in her voice as she pushed the door open with her hip. “Breakfast in bed. You can’t say we don’t treat our guests right!”

With a soft moan, Diego propped himself higher against his pillow. “Pancakes? Who’d have thought recovering from heart surgery could be so sweet? I’ll never want to leave this bed if you keep this up. The usual pain aside, I feel pretty lucky.”

It was fortunate indeed that he’d had somewhere to go to for help just a short hop from La Huerta. And it was fortunate indeed that Taylor and Estela’s old home had enough room for them to care for him there-- and enough space that Varyyn could exist there comfortably in secret for the necessary recovery period. It was Liv’s home now, shared with her spouse and elder daughter, though the latter had temporarily moved in with her brother at the old Montoya place to make room. Still, with six people and three bedrooms, it was a very full house.

Diego met his old friend’s eye. “Thank you. Really.”

The reply was quiet and sincere. “It’s no problem.”

Taylor helped Diego with his breakfast tray. “It looked like Varyyn was enjoying his morning stroll around the big yard. I worried about him feeling trapped here, but I guess at our pace it takes a good while even to do one lap of it all.”

“He quite likes it,” Diego said. “Which is a relief-- I feel guilty enough taking him from his home. Varyyn doesn’t like the invisibility suit much anyway, but even if he did, I don’t think he’d so much as leave the property while I’m like this.”

“You’re very loved, you know.”

“I feel it right now,” he said softly. “Sore, and scared at being faced with my own mortality, and definitely very loved.”

The company was good. Liv was something between a niece and a daughter to him, and he loved her dearly. He never saw as much of her as Taylor’s other daughter, Rosa, who now lived on La Huerta, so the opportunity to catch up was welcome. Liv’s spouse, Jeimy, was a gentle presence, quietly seeing to it that their recuperating guest could want for nothing. Like Taylor, Estela had remained close to Diego’s bedside during the frightening days in hospital, and now put her considerable will-power into ensuring he took care of himself through the next phase and offering a shoulder to Varyyn should he need it. She didn’t tend to say a whole lot, but never left it unsaid that she cared. Even those few words weren’t really needed though… Diego knew.  

Taylor’s voice cracked as she spoke again. “I’m just relieved to have home from hospital. God, actually, I’m just relieved to have you out the other side of going under,” she said. “We’ve lost too much… I’ve lost too much, and I couldn’t bear it if you….”

Diego put a bony hand on hers. He felt his own eyes welling as those dark days, not so far in the back-view mirror, came flooding back. Of Jake and Craig, and the gaping holes they’d torn with their departures, one after the other. Everyone must have been bricking it, as he’d have been if any of them had been taken into hospital for heart valve replacement surgery, a vulnerable old man of eighty-two, whose body could so easily have given up the ghost.

Taylor sniffed. “But with your ticker sorted, you’ve no excuse to bail out on me anytime soon.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Except home to La Huerta-- and maybe one last go round Disney World. I still can’t believe we got kicked out that time….”

“Ha. I blame that crowd of people wanting a picture with Varyyn-- way to get us unwanted attention!” Taylor chuckled, heartened by her friend’s ability to see beyond the recovery period. Maybe they should go and do something fun, a last hurrah. “It’s not far to Florida. I’m sure we can pull that one off… but we’ll get you healed up and recovered first. Deal? I need you to be okay.”

Diego met her eye and nodded. He’d never not take her fears for him seriously.

“No more scares. I don’t think Varyyn could take it either.”

It was strange to be in this place. Less and less he’d leave La Huerta… less and less there’d been a need to. There was no blood family left. He was contentedly retired, living the life of a revered old storyteller in Elyys’tel. And much of his chosen family-- Taylor and Estela, Grace and Aleister, and more recently Zahra, Sean and Raj-- had taken up residence back on La Huerta, choosing to spend their twilight years, well, home. The younger generation did most of the running around, visiting frequently, while the bulk of the ageing Catalyst gang remained settled in the place that had changed everything. More accustomed to life in a Vaanti village than he was the world he’d been born into, Diego had long lost the desire to go back, even to visit.

“No,” Taylor said quietly. “He’s been worried sick.”

This would probably be the last time Diego and Varyyn would visit the extended Montoya family in San Trobida. Diego had been a frequent guest at old Tio Nicolas’ place whenever Taylor and Estela were staying with him, and later was a frequent guest in this house as his friends put down their own roots. All the photographs on the dresser he’d looked at a thousand times before; Taylor and Estela on their second wedding day, young Liv with a broad grin and a gymnastics medal, a middle-aged couple he knew to be Estela’s grandparents, and one of the many, many group photos taken on a Catalyst reunion-- he’d guess the date to be sometime in the 2040s. And there was one of him and Taylor, arms around one another and grinning; he was pretty sure it had been taken at a party to celebrate the launch of his second book. It had been a pretty tipsy night, so neither remembered it being taken, but he’d always loved how damn happy he looked in that picture. Taylor had once told Diego he ‘represented her side of the family’. He felt it. This room was more home than any other off La Huerta had ever been.

“Hey?” Taylor broke the long silence. “I’m gonna go grab a slice or two of toast, but I’ll come back. If you don’t mind, can I sit up on the bed with you? I think… I’m having a clingy day.”

There was no question at all.

____________________________

La Huerta, 2070

Taylor took a deep breath as she stepped off the plane. This was it. They were home for good.

“Grandma!” came the holler of little Aurora, nine years old, soon to be wrapped in a cuddle.

“We’re here! All in one piece, thanks to Captain Georgie,” Taylor announced. It had been a few years since Georgiana and Benny took over from their father as La Huerta’s go-to pilots, and she’d been tasked the very important job of bringing two of the Catalysts back to the island.

“Can we go on the plane?” twelve-year-old Leo clamoured, peering past his grandmother.

“Why, you’re going somewhere?” Estela asked, stepping down onto the dirt and taking in the familiar scents of La Huerta.

Leo shook his head. “I’ve just never checked out the cockpit,” he said. “But I swear I’m happy to see you too!”

They all did the rounds of hugs; Taylor and Estela’s younger daughter, Rosa, lived on the island with her Vaanti husband, and the reunion was always emotional. Sean and Jake’s youngest, Georgie, also lived here-- like Diego, she was almost as culturally Vaanti as she was anything else-- and her little family had also come down to the airstrip to greet the newcomers.

Diego held back patiently, dying though he was to throw his arms around his old friend and welcome her to the rest of their lives. He wasn’t about to get between those kids and their grandmas-- both Leo and Aurora had been talking about little else for weeks.

With tears in her eyes, Taylor squeezed little Aurora as she came in for hug after hug, only letting anyone else get a look in when she latched on to Estela for a few seconds before switching again. Of Taylor and Estela’s five grandchilren, Aurora was the youngest, the only blonde of the bunch, and the one who most resembled Grandma Tay-- and not just physically. Their bond was especially tight; Aurora had been in floods of tears last time they’d said goodbye. There’d be less of that now. Of course, the trade-off was that Liv’s clan in San Trobida would become the family they’d have to fly to visit…. There was really no winning once one’s children spread their wings and put down roots away from the maternal nest; she and Estela could not be with all of them all of the time, however much they wanted to be.

“Hey, G’ma!” Leo took an opportunity to get a look in, putting an arm around his grandmother. He was as tall as her now-- how and when did that happen?

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Taylor asked, and she had to crane her neck to kiss his head. Goddamnit, kid, stop growing so fast! “Have you been up to much while we were gone?”

“Mostly just school and stuff,” he said with a shrug. “Dad’s been giving me some guitar lessons, though.”

“You’re giving the drums a rest?”

Leo grinned, his dark eyes alight with the mischief of a kid with a penchant for making a lot of noise. “For now.”

With Leo soon back to the important business of kicking a ball up and down the beach with Georgie’s children, Niraea and Rauan, and Estela being shown the jewellery Aurora had made, Taylor exchanged hugs and greetings with Rosa and Homori. She found herself choking up as she looked over her daughter’s shoulder and into the world that had been the making of her… where she was truly home.

There was nowhere else I was ever going to wind up in the end, was there?

And there, meeting her eye, was Diego. What she didn’t owe that man…. Her smile broadened to match his, and with a kiss to Rosa’s hair, she stepped away.

“Where’s my hug, Diego? You finally got your way-- we’re here, and we’re here to stay!”

Diego laughed. “It was only ever a matter of time. I know you… and this is your happy place.”

She embraced him, then took his hand and squeezed, before raising their joined fingers to her face to wipe away those pesky tears.

“It’s really good to be home, you know? It’s really good to be home.”

________________________

La Huerta, 2060

With a grunt, Diego sat down upon the sand. They hadn’t walked far from Elyys’tel. He was tired, the toll of the past few days being felt all over.

“I’m sorry,” Taylor said heavily. “I really am sorry. For your loss, and for being a pushy jerk when you plainly told me to give you space.”

Diego gave her a soft nudge with his shoulder. He’d needed to hear it, that apology. Things had been hard, as though every part of him was in conflict, and he’d been helpless but to let it all blow up inside him. He’d needed his best friend, but mostly he’d needed her to leave him the hell alone to work out his own head.

 “Hey, you got the message eventually. Took you long enough, but… I think I can forgive you. I know Varyyn has too.”

 A fall-out with Taylor had been the last thing he’d needed, but it was just that kind of a week. Of course, his father dying had to coincide with the most vital phase of Varyyn’s handing over the title of Elyyshar to Taari, and of course Taylor in full ‘fix everyone’s problems’ mode would come in all overbearing just when he needed to be left to process. Looking back, he could see how Taylor needed to feel as though she could help, to overcompensate for the helplessness she’d been battling over her daughter’s struggles back home.

Things had been rocky between them for a few days, but space had done its job. Sitting out there in the place where they each felt most themselves, feelings and fears could come tumbling out, for he was ready for it now.

“So, now it’s just Mama,” Diego was saying. “I have even less reason to go back-- I know she wouldn’t recognise me anyway. What would I say if she did? There’s nothing more I’m willing to apologise for; I’m not apologising for being me.”

“And you shouldn’t. Not ever.”

Diego looked into his friend’s face, desperately seeking comfort as he’d done countless times before. Any anger over how she’d behaved was gone; now he was ready to talk, and he just wanted that same old honest and loving support he trusted her to give… even when the conversation itself scared him half to death. What it could say about himself… the very man he was…. When he spoke again, the words came out rushed and fearful.

“My cousins will keep visiting… I know they will. But Mama’s going to be one of those tragic dementia patients sitting abandoned in a nursing home, her only kid having wiped his hands of her. It makes me feel just sick with guilt.”

“Hey,” Taylor said gently. She  tenderly brushed a lock of her behind Diego’s ear. Her heart ached for him. It was so damn unfair, but that, it seemed, was life sometimes. All she could do was listen. And actually listen this time. “You’re getting eaten up over someone who’s betrayed your trust, who’s had every chance to put the work in and heal things but chose not to. You still love your mom, but you love yourself more. That’s not abandonment by my reckoning.”

A tear rolled down Diego’s cheek. “Just… just feels different now. The roles are reversed, and she’s the one who needs looking after.”

Taylor frowned thoughtfully. “I wish I had the answers. I really do. A big part of me wants to tell you ‘screw that asshole, she made her bed and has to lie in it’, but you’re the one who’s going to have to be able to live with yourself. If living with yourself means spending some time with her, even just one visit to get closure, it doesn’t mean you’re just bowing down to the pressure she put on you all those years. Whatever you decide, do it for you.”

They quietly watched the waves roll in.

Diego found himself envying his friend. Taylor didn’t have a family, so they couldn’t hurt her. She’d never felt rejection-- certainly not from anyone who’d promised a lifetime of love. He always came back to Taylor, it just came naturally, but the flickerings of resentment reared their heads, even as the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder on the beach. How could she possibly have a clue?

He brushed away his tears. Of all the times he’d wished he was in Taylor’s shoes instead, it always came back to truth that he was proud of the man he’d become… and that man had been shaped by the life he’d lived and the people he’d loved-- whether they returned it or not.

And Taylor… cared for him. She loved him. So, he’d take her as the wonderful, flawed person she was and appreciate her presence in his corner, even when she botched the execution. At least she screwed up and then made amends, she wasn’t too proud to be wrong. In contrast, he didn’t think he could recall an instance of his mother owning up and apologising even once in his life….

Diego sighed loudly. No one else could decide this one for him. His decision… well, he’d already decided. He just had to find a way to forgive himself.

Getting to his feet, he held out a hand to pull Taylor to hers. Then, they continued their walk. They walked the well-trodden and yet constantly-changing strip between Elyys’tel and Catalyst’tel, bare feet in the shallows, the water pleasantly cool as the sun neared the horizon.

“I know who I am,” Diego said, after another long stretch of comfortable, if emotional, hush. I’m not a cruel person.”

“Cruel is the last thing you are,” Taylor said, soft but full of conviction.

Diego’s chin trembled. Sorry, Mama. This is me knowing what I’m worth.  “My head knows I can’t give Mama any more. My heart’s just going to need to learn to let go.”

They fell quiet once more.

“Sunset’s really pretty tonight….” Diego said quietly after a while. “Guess it’s not all doom and gloom.”

And in the morning… the sun would rise again.

_______________________

La Huerta, 2042

“I wanted to put something to you,” Taylor said nervously. “It’ll need you and Varyyn to sit with it a bit, so don’t worry about giving me an answer now.”

“That sounds… pretty ominous to be honest.”

This was supposed to be just a relaxing stroll along the beach before dinner, but Diego was immediately on alert for something big. Admittedly, Taylor had dropped some pretty gargantuan bombs on him in the past.

Taylor chuckled and shook her head. “Before you freak out-- we’d like you to be Rosa’s godfather. Or the agnostic equivalent anyway. Basically, if anything were to happen to ‘Stel and me, you and Liv would share custody of Rosa and take care of her together-- whether it’s here or back in San Trobida.”

Diego took it in with a nod, turning it over in his head. She was asking the world and giving the world… but was it her heart talking over her head?

“You don’t think-- I mean, I’m sure you’ve thought of this-- that in a worst-case scenario she’d do better with some of the guys in San Trobida who she’s got to know a bit more?”

Diego watched as his friend’s face crumpled before him. “I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean--”

Taylor turned away, wrestling with herself as emotion overcame her. “God, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s… it’s what Estela said initially too.” She looked back to Diego, her eyes rimmed with red. “It’s just different with you. What we have is special; I’ll never have a connection like that with another person. You’re my other home.”

“Is one not enough for you? Greedy cow,” Diego teased gently, but he wrapped Taylor in his arms as he did so, bringing her in so they were forehead-to-forehead. He got it. His deep sense of belonging with Varyyn didn’t take away the warmth and security he gleaned from the tight bond he had with Taylor. It was more like… a familial bond. They’d each grown and gone their separate ways, but a piece of their hearts resided with one another and always would.

“I would always, always be there for your girls,” he said.

“I know….” Taylor said shakily. “You’ve just been such an amazing ‘special uncle’ to Liv; it would be wonderful for Rosa, you know? She needs all the support systems we can give her.” She sighed, and gave a weak laugh. “It goes without saying, doesn’t it. I guess… I guess….”

As she trailed off, Diego considered her quietly. Taylor’s past year had been intense, and the distance between them had made it difficult for him to be the shoulder he wanted to be her. The bags under her eyes were telling, and the way she so clearly longed for closeness with him.

“It’s hardly a surprise… mortality being on your mind. What with the anniversary just been,” he said quietly.

Twelve months prior, Estela had been grievously injured in an attack by a young and brash admirer of the late General Salazar. Vastly more experienced in fighting as she was, Estela had managed to stave off mortal harm, but it had been far too close a shave for comfort. Miles and miles away, Diego had been there with Taylor, talking her through the terror and despair down a phone line. Of course, Jake flew a plane to bring him back to San Trobida as soon as he could, but he felt his isolation from the rest of the world in a way he rarely had before or since. His best friend had him now, though.

Taylor nodded, sniffing. “I thought I’d moved on from it. ‘Stel’s going strong. We actually needed a jolt to make us stop and really consider how we wanted the rest of our lives to look-- maybe we wouldn’t even have Rosi now if it wasn’t for the wake-up call. But it scared the absolute shit out of me.

“Obviously, I don’t think either of us are going anywhere, or we wouldn’t have even thought about adopting. It just sneaks up on me with how close we came. Life’s pretty fragile.”

“How are things going with Rosa?” Diego ventured gently. “Smooth sailing since we last talked?”

“She seems pretty happy, doesn’t she?” Taylor replied, fully aware of just how obvious her deflection was. But this was Diego, so she relented and shared. “I think security will come in time for her. Right now the threshold for meltdowns is really low-- the slightest hint of either of us using a stern tone with her or being disapproving in any way, and she goes to pieces.” She gave a dry little laugh. “Obviously I feel a complete asshole for ragging on Estela that first time it happened. Rosa barely gives us a reason to reprimand her in any way, she’s so desperate to please, but we’re human beings and we get frustrated.”

“Bet it makes you feel like absolute shit, though! Only human or not.”

Taylor met his eye and nodded again. “It’s a lot. I’m with her all day-- though we’re confident she’ll be ready to go to a real school next year-- and I’m hyper-aware of how she’s perceiving me. I’m pretty sure she is happy for the most part; her speaking’s come on in leaps and bounds, and there’s so much affection between us.” She gave a sad shrug. “I just wish so badly that she didn’t have that fear, that she knew with total certainty that she’s ours unconditionally. She doesn’t deserve to be scared like she is.”

“It’s just time, you know?” Diego said gently. “You did a pretty good job of convincing me you were unconditional, and I had even more years of baggage collected than Rosi does. Just… time.”

“Yeah….” Taylor’s shoulders slumped. There was no magic shortcut.

“I’ll come and pay you another visit-- soon. I want to stay with you a while; if what’s holding me back from saying yes is that Rosa doesn’t know me well enough, then we fix that. She’s basically my niece, and I already love her; we’re on catch-up compared to Liv at that age, but I’ll work on it ‘til we get there.”

A smile came to Taylor’s face, growing ever-broader.

“What?” said Diego, “I take it you’re on board with that? I don’t need to Airbnb it?”

Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. “Buddy, how long have you been out here? Airbnb went down the tubes years ago! And you know full well, if you come to San Trobida and stay anywhere other than the Casa Montoya, I will be mortally wounded.”

“Heh, well, I can’t have that.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

ok so when diego says that ximaedra got him a job as varyyn's tutor i know we all assumed he was teaching him english, because that's the only thing that makes sense. however, we neglected to consider that literally anything else would be funnier

our possibilities are basically:

something else that humans and vaanti share, like math or something. so diego's normal not a math expert or a teacher ass has to try and teach varyyn math, and he's gotta teach him VAANTI math, which is bound to be different from modern western human math. so basically diego is like "yeah idk how to do this" and varyyn is like "me neither" and then they stare at each other and lie to ximaedra

he is teaching him something particular to vaanti society that he doesn't know the first thing about. like flying a glider or vaanti politics or, idk, something. which would be weird and inexplicable were it not for the fact that varyyn is a known little shit, and it is entirely plausible that every previous tutor quit because he is impossible. so ximaedra just saw this human weirdo who was kinda standing there with nothing else to do and went "perfect, he literally can't say no"

the second one also explains why he was tutoring varyyn specifically, and not the vaanti in general, which is weird considering that there is no reason varyyn in particular would need to know more english than the others. also please imagine diego asking why in the fresh hell he's being asked to teach varyyn to build a house, someone he doesn't know how to do, when they don't even have a shared language anyway, and how is he even supposed to do that and ximaedra being like "figure it out human boy". then within minutes varyyn escapes to go surf. and diego is now having to surreptiously hunt him down. while trying to figure out how to build a house. this is his life now. and no one here has even seen the jungle book

[migueldelaguila]

🎶 Today Miguel del Aguila’s  #PacificSerenade performance by #DominoEnsemble. Concert begins soon. 🎶

📅 **Date:** 9/26/2024 

🕕 **Time:** 6:30 PM 

📍 **Venue:** Bijou Theater, Knoxville, TN 

Featuring clarinetist  Jorge Variego.

[sceptilemasterr]

Endless Winter (ES Book 2) Act 1, Scene 8 - High Council of the Vaanti

Title: Endless Winter

Main Pairings: Estela x Ian (M!MC), Jake x Alyssa (F!MC)

Other Pairings: Craig x Zahra, Grace x Aleister, Michelle x Quinn, Diego x Varyyn

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for swearing, violence, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: The Catalysts are escorted through the city of Elyys'tel, where their fates will be decided.

Previous Scene: Lord of the Waves

Masterlist: Link

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains a scene involving a character's struggles after being outed as gay. If such content is triggering or otherwise discomforting for you, please feel free to skip over this chapter; a link to the next one has been provided here for your convenience:

Next Chapter: Trial by Water

EXT. ELYYS’TEL - DAY

Escorted by a troop of warriors, Estela helps a still half-conscious Ian along as they and the others are brought to the base of the great tree that was seen earlier. Kele is notably absent from the group as they approach the tree. From up close, its true scale becomes apparent: the trunk alone is wider than a skyscraper, and countless branches strewn with walkways and staircases crisscross the area, making it seem even more massive. Seraxa signals to someone up above, and a wooden elevator descends, allowing the group to enter the city itself.

RAJ: Duuuuude... this is so dope--

One of the warriors pokes him in the back with a spear, and he yelps in surprise.

RAJ: Okay, okay! I’m going!

The remainder of their journey continues in silence as they are escorted along the winding walkways. Countless Vaanti civilians stare at them, a myriad of emotions evident on their faces: fear, awe, surprise, reverence, curiosity. As they continue walking, Varyyn starts to stir.

VARYYN (groggily): Marr sahn...

The two warriors carrying him immediately stop, setting him gently on his feet. Varyyn looks around, confused, and then spots Diego.

VARYYN: Diego! I do not-- What has happened?

DIEGO (shrugs): It’s... a long story.

As they continue through the city, Diego fills Varyyn in on what he missed. Finally, the group arrives at the entrance of an ornate set of double doors, carved into the trunk of the great tree itself. Seraxa turns to face Alyssa and the others, a prideful smirk upon her face.

SERAXA: Prepare yourselves, Catalysts. The Tribunal awaits.

_______________________

INT. ELYYS’TEL THRONE ROOM - DAY

The great double doors swing open, revealing a vast chamber into which the Hartfeld students and Jake are quickly shepherded inside. The Vaanti warriors file in behind them. At the far end of the room is an ornate wooden throne that appears to grow directly into the wall of the tree itself. Seated in the throne is an older Vaanti woman, her clothing significantly more ornate than anything seen previously. She wears an elaborate red headdress and gazes down at the new arrivals with a stern expression mixed with curiosity. This is XIMAEDRA.

XIMAEDRA: War-Chief Seraxa. Keeper Uqzhaal. What is the meaning of this?

SERAXA: These outsiders attacked our prince! They attempted to destroy the Temple of Canis, and--

MICHELLE: What? No we didn’t--

TUPAAN, a Vaanti wearing a ram’s head mask, hits Michelle sharply in the leg with the blunt end of his spear.

TUPAAN: Quiet!

XIMAEDRA (dismissively): And why bring them here? Exile them to Sharktooth Isle and be done with it.

Seraxa nods, her expression triumphant, but before she can give any orders to her warriors, Uqzhaal hobbles forward. He declares, surprisingly loudly:

UQZHAAL: I would invoke the Rule of Tribunal!

Seraxa glares at him as Varyyn’s jaw drops. Diego looks over at him, confused, as the other Vaanti all begin talking excitedly amongst themselves in the Vaant’igua language. Seraxa and two other Vaanti warriors, a man named VILOKO and a woman named CALVIA, take up positions on either side of Ximaedra’s throne.

ALEISTER: What on Earth is a “Rule of Tribunal?”

VARYYN: A process by which they shall judge your fate. Three will speak against you, and three in your defense...

SEAN: All right, that’s not so bad. I’ll do it--

Sean approaches the throne, but another warrior pushes him back. Varyyn shakes his head and frowns.

VARYYN: The speakers must be citizens of Elyys'tel. Outsiders are not permitted to speak for the Tribunal--

ZAHRA: What? That’s bullshit! How the hell are we supposed to--

Uqzhaal hobbles back toward the group, turning to face Seraxa, Calvia, and Viloko.

UQZHAAL: I shall speak for the accused.

Varyyn and Diego exchange a glance. Varyyn then nods and steps forward to stand beside Uqzhaal.

VARYYN: As shall I.

XIMAEDRA: Varyyn, what is the meaning of--

VARYYN: I know Diego’s heart. He is no destroyer.

Ximaedra sighs.

XIMAEDRA: ...Very well. And the third?

Uqzhaal and Varyyn exchange a glance. Jake nudges Diego.

JAKE: Any chance you’re close enough with these guys to step up?

Diego shakes his head.

DIEGO (apologetically): Sure, I know them well enough, but I’m still an outsider. Sorry.

XIMAEDRA: ...Does a third citizen of Elyys’tel deign to speak in defense of the accused?

There is an awkward silence. Seraxa crosses her arms and gazes triumphantly down at Uqzhaal and Varyyn. Varyyn looks back at the other warriors in the room, hoping for assistance, but no one volunteers.

SERAXA: As we are all well aware, without a third citizen willing to stand in defense of the accused, the Tribunal is forfeit. It would seem--

A thick mist suddenly fills the entire chamber, making it impossible to see anything.

VILOKO: Saneha?! Anco jest--

XIMAEDRA (calmly): It would seem they have their third defender, War-Chief.

The mist dissipates as abruptly as it had appeared, swirling out the windows and doors. Kele is now standing beside Varyyn and Uqzhaal, facing the throne.

RAJ: Wait a sec... who the...

KELE: That’s right, Elyyshar. I will speak for the accused.

SERAXA: You would interfere again, Wave-Lord?

KELE: I’m a citizen, aren’t I? I have that right.

Seraxa sighs and crosses her arms, but says nothing more. Kele nods back at the Hartfeld group.

KELE: Looks like I’m saving you all again, aren’t I?

JAKE: Listen, Mr. Waterbender, you owe us a lot of explanation after all this--

XIMAEDRA: Silence. The defenders may speak first. Varyyn?

Varyyn takes a step forward, addressing Ximaedra directly.

VARYYN: Mother. Members of the Tribunal. You know that I have never given any of you reason to distrust me. And neither has the one we call Canis.

He turns, gesturing toward Diego.

VARYYN: For five sheaves of days now, I have spent more time with Diego than has any other citizen of Elyys’tel. I have worked alongside him, traveled with him, stood by him. I have taught him of our ways, and in turn he has taught all of us his language. And I wish to point out that in all this time, he did not once attempt to harm us or flee from us. In truth, as you all have witnessed, he has made every effort to try to understand us.

Diego gives Varyyn a grateful smile. The Vaanti warrior turns back to face the crowd.

VARYYN: And so I ask all of you, citizens of Elyys’tel: do we not owe him that same courtesy? Should we not make the effort to try and understand Diego’s people, just as he was willing to understand us? I believe we should. “For Time’s great cycle ever repeats, and that which is given, in Time one shall receive.”

There is a brief muttering among the Vaanti warriors. Varyyn gives a short bow and steps backward. Ximaedra smiles proudly for a moment, then turns serious.

XIMAEDRA: Well said, Varyyn. And now for the opposition. War-Chief Seraxa?

Seraxa nods and steps forward, glaring angrily at Varyyn before turning to face the rest of the crowd.

SERAXA: Hydra. Lyra.

Fear and anger ripple through the room in equal measure. Estela frowns in confusion as she leans in to whisper to Ian:

ESTELA: That’s the second time now she’s mentioned “Hydra.” What’s that about?

IAN (whispering): No idea.

SERAXA: We trusted outsiders once before, and we all remember how that story ended. They betrayed us. Tried to destroy us! Kidnapped the children of Vaanu from this very city! And now you would repeat that very same mistake? I refuse to risk another betrayal. Exile them and be done with it.

Seraxa stops talking and takes a step back, gazing out at the assembled Vaanti warriors around the chamber. Ximaedra nods.

XIMAEDRA: You are finished, War-Chief?

SERAXA: I am.

XIMAEDRA: Very well. Keeper Uqzhaal, you may speak.

Uqzhaal takes a few slow steps forward.

GRACE (quietly): I don’t like this.

ALYSSA: Yeah, the war-chief really hates us. I hope the old guy’s got a good argument...

UQZHAAL: War-Chief, you speak of the one we call Hydra, and the betrayal that he committed. Yet you would treat these outsiders the same, despite Hydra being their enemy as well! You forget that I was with them when the Temple of Canis was set alight. I witnessed with my own eyes as Hydra attempted to burn them alive within it! They are no friends of his, I can assure you that much.

SERAXA (angrily): They are still outsiders! This--

XIMAEDRA: Silence, War-Chief. You speak out of turn.

Seraxa bows her head, embarrassed at her sudden outburst. After a moment, Uqzhaal continues:

UQZHAAL: You mentioned as well the betrayal that Lyra inflicted upon us. How she took the children of Vaanu from our people, depriving us of such a blessing, and then sent her warriors to attack us, nearly burning Elyys’tel to the ground.

JAKE (whispering): Hey, ain’t he supposed to be on our side? That doesn’t sound like a defense.

SEAN (whispering): Yeah, I really hope he knows what he’s doing...

UQZHAAL: Yet none of you have recognized what is plain to see! That betrayal--that tragedy--has been corrected!

Uqzhaal suddenly turns and approaches the Hartfeld group, walking straight toward Alyssa and Ian. He uses his staff to reach out and pull the two of them forward, out of the group and into the space directly in front of Ximaedra’s throne. The Czasa twins look around in confusion as Uqzhaal declares:

UQZHAAL (proudly): At long last, the children of Vaanu are returned to us!

The entire chamber erupts in an uproar. Excitement, anger, and confusion can be felt in equal measure despite most of the words spoken being in the Vaant’igua language. Alyssa and Ian exchange confused glances, clearly bewildered.

SERAXA: Uqzhaal, how can you know that? Your gluptala fantasies have blinded you--

UQZHAAL (exasperated): Hydra vezm, War-Chief! I was there! I saw that one summon the Vaanulux with my own eyes!

He points to Ian.

IAN: What’s a ‘Vaan...’ uh, thing?

SERAXA: You see?! They do not even know our ways! They cannot be--

XIMAEDRA (booming): ENOUGH!

The entire room immediately goes silent. Ximaedra rises from her throne, stepping forward to stand between Seraxa and Uqzhaal. She takes a moment to allow her analytical gaze to sweep over first Ian, then Alyssa.

XIMAEDRA: If what you say is true, Keeper Uqzhaal... then we have not only the children of Vaanu, but truly the Thirteen Catalysts of legend standing in our midst. It may be a grave mistake to punish them.

Seraxa flinches, looking as though she desperately wants to object, but she holds her tongue. Ximaedra turns back to face Uqzhaal.

XIMAEDRA: If what you say is true. In order to know for certain, we shall need proof of this matter before proceeding. Tupaan? Sixal?

Tupaan and SIXAL, a female warrior wearing a golden mask, step forward.

XIMAEDRA: Go to the Temple of... hmm, Cygnus should do. Retrieve the vaalta there and bring it to us. We shall know the truth of Keeper Uqzhaal’s claim soon enough.

SIXAL: Yes, my elyyshar.

She and Tupaan move to leave the throne room, but Uqzhaal stops them with his staff.

UQZHAAL: Wait! There is no need. I have the vaalta of Canis right here.

He reaches into his satchel and withdraws the dog-headed statue he had taken from the temple earlier, holding it out before Ximaedra.

XIMAEDRA: Ah! Yes, this will work nicely. Keeper Uqzhaal, you have said nothing to the outsiders of the vaalta?

UQZHAAL: That is correct. They know nothing of our stories.

XIMAEDRA: Excellent. Will this suffice, War-Chief?

SERAXA: Yes. We shall witness their ignorance soon enough.

Uqzhaal turns and gestures to Diego, who steps nervously forward. Uqzhaal hands him the statue.

UQZHAAL: Canis. Take the vaalta.

DIEGO (hesitantly): Uh... okay.

He takes it, but nothing happens. Uqzhaal gestures toward the twins.

UQZHAAL: Let them touch it.

Diego approaches the twins and holds out the idol. Realization dawns on both Alyssa and Ian as they understand what the Vaanti are trying to do.

ALYSSA: Oh! They want us to--

IAN (simultaneously): Is this about the--

They reach out to touch the statue. The moment all three of them are touching it, a familiar blinding flash of light envelops the twins. When it clears, they are standing in the living room of a small house, near the front door. Ian and Alyssa stumble back in shock when they see it.

ALYSSA (emotionally): I... this is...

IAN (shocked): Home.

The two of them look almost on the verge of tears at the familiar sight. Before they can react further, the door swings open to reveal YOUNG IAN and YOUNG ALYSSA, about 12 years old, their backpacks slung over their shoulders. Behind them, looking terrified and so nervous that he seems to wish he could disappear on the spot, is an equally YOUNG DIEGO. He is disheveled, his hair messy and his clothes wrinkled. His own backpack is stuffed to bursting, and he holds a wrinkled bedsheet in his hands.

YOUNG IAN: It’ll be okay. I promise! They love you.

YOUNG DIEGO (shakily): I thought m-my parents did, too. And then--

YOUNG ALYSSA: Well, they’re stupid! None of that should matter. Want me to go yell at them for you? I could totally do that!

The adult Ian and Alyssa exchange a glance.

ALYSSA: This is... It’s another memory.

IAN: Yeah. Wait--you’ve seen this, too?

ALYSSA: Not this one, but... same concept. Wait, hang on--!

IAN (sighs): Yeah, I’ve seen one too. Gotta say, it’s really weird seeing ourselves like this.

ALYSSA: No kidding--

She stops talking as footsteps can be heard from upstairs. The younger Alyssa, Ian, and Diego enter the living room and shut the door. A woman in her late 40’s, her black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, walks down the stairs as the adult twins’ gazes are immediately drawn to her. This is BECKY CZASA, Alyssa and Ian’s adoptive mother.

IAN: Mom!

ALYSSA (simultaneously): Mom!

Without thinking, the two of them approach their mother, only to be interrupted as the younger Ian runs up to Becky, sprinting right through his older self in the process. The older Ian glances down and sighs, shaking his head.

IAN: Right. Memory.

BECKY: Hi, Ian! How was schoo--

She abruptly stops talking mid-sentence as she catches sight of Diego, taking in his disheveled appearance.

BECKY (concerned): Diego! Oh my Lord, what happened? You look like a mess! What’s wrong--

Diego flinches and attempts to hide behind Alyssa. Ian takes a deep breath and looks back at his sister and his best friend. Alyssa gives him a nod.

YOUNG IAN (nervously): Mom... uh... something did happen. It’s kind of a big deal. I... um... I don’t really know where to start. How to explain... um... it’s...

YOUNG ALYSSA (shouting): Diego’s gay, Mom!

Diego looks even more terrified. Ian fixes his sister with an angry glare.

YOUNG IAN: ‘Lyss!

YOUNG ALYSSA: What? You were taking too long. (furiously) Mom, if you think you’re about to kick Diego out like his mom did, then I’m kicking myself out, too! Nobody deserves to be treated like this for somethin’ they don’t choose! You don’t--

BECKY: What? Alyssa, please, I am not--

YOUNG ALYSSA: --and it's such a big bunch of crap, too! He’s so scared, and everyone keeps bullying him, and now even his own family won’t--

BECKY: Alyssa, listen to me--

YOUNG ALYSSA: --so if you and Dad think you can keep treating him like this, like everyone else does, than me and Ian are runnin’ away with him, you got that? You kick him out, you kick all of us out! I'm not gonna--

BECKY (suddenly shouting): Alyssa Meghan Agbayani Czasa!

Alyssa abruptly stops talking. Becky shakes her head, an amused smile on her face.

BECKY: I know you care about your friend. But your father and I would never dream of treating him any different because of who he loves! Diego, you have always been welcome in our home, and that has not changed. That will never change, do you understand?

The younger Alyssa blushes heavily at the realization that her whole rant was for nothing. The adult Alyssa, watching the vision, blushes heavily as well, from secondhand embarrassment. Ian gives her an amused smile.

ALYSSA: God, was I really that quick to start yelling all the time back then?

IAN: And I could barely work up the nerve to say anything at all. Wow...

ALYSSA (playfully): Not much has changed on that front.

IAN: That goes for both of us, y’know.

They share an amused grin before turning their attention back to the memory. Becky approaches Diego and bends down to pull him into a tight hug as Diego starts sobbing into her shoulder.

BECKY: Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe here.

YOUNG DIEGO (sobbing): I thought... I thought you’d--

YOUNG IAN: Mom? That’s why... I wanted to ask if he can stay with us. His parents kicked him out. He had to sleep on a couch in the library last night! And he barely had anything to eat besides my lunch from today! He needs--

BECKY: Of course he can stay. As long as he needs to, he can stay.

Becky stands up and gives young Ian a smile.

BECKY: He’s no stranger to that guest room of ours, after all! Come on, you three. Let’s get you all some food.

YOUNG DIEGO (tearfully): Thank you, Mrs. Czasa. Thank you. I-- thank you!

As the older Ian and Alyssa move to follow their younger selves into the kitchen, the blinding flash of light returns once again and the twins are yanked backward. Within the light, they hear a familiar voice:

VOICE (V.O.): Canis. Always quick to cast his own needs aside for fear of rejection. He must accept himself for who he is, in order to find the true strength he carries within. All of you must, if you wish to find the sole path forward.

In a flash, they are back in the throne room of Elyys’tel. The twins stare at Diego in shock.

DIEGO (confused): Uh... did something happen? Are you two okay?

IAN: We, er... we saw...

XIMAEDRA: Describe your experience upon touching the vaalta.

IAN: I... uh... it was kinda...

ALYSSA: We saw a vision. A memory. Diego’s memory.

DIEGO: Wait, what?

UQZHAAL (triumphantly): Oho! You see?

ALYSSA: We could, like, walk around and stuff. But we couldn’t interact with anything. We saw it as clear as day!

DIEGO: Wait, what memory?

IAN: From when we were little. The day you--

SERAXA: They lie!

XIMAEDRA: And how could they lie about this, War-Chief? They have no way of knowing what the correct answer could be--

Uqzhaal takes the statue from Diego’s hand and holds it aloft.

UQZHAAL: It is a proven truth! They are indeed the long-lost children of Vaanu, returned to us at last! Which means... before us stand the Thirteen Catalysts of legend!

Gasps of astonishment come from the surrounding crowd of Vaanti. The Hartfeld group simply look even more confused.

SERAXA: Claq shen zarvii, Uqzhaal. It is said that they will bring about great change, yes? And change itself can be good... or very, very bad. The Catalysts may prove to be our enemies yet.

Uqzhaal scowls in annoyance.

UQZHAAL: And you would make enemies out of them in the process? That is not--

XIMAEDRA: Keeper Uqzhaal. Tell me, is it not true that the Endless Ones once spoke of the Catalysts’ capacity for salvation and destruction?

UQZHAAL: It... it is true, my elyyshar.

XIMAEDRA: Then we may in fact be enemies, after all. Even the Catalysts--indeed, even the children of Vaanu--are not without the ability to choose. Even to choose evil, should they wish.

VARYYN: Diego is not--

Ximaedra holds out a hand for silence as she settles back into her throne.

XIMAEDRA: The Tribunal continues. Keeper Uqzhaal, you have said your peace. Warrior Viloko, step forward.

The male Vaanti warrior standing beside Seraxa takes a step forward and nods at the assembled crowd.

VILOKO: Our War-Chief speaks the truth! Even if they are the Catalysts, it changes nothing. We all know of what happened when our warriors went to retrieve them from the Torehydra! They attacked us without cause!

He points accusingly at Varyyn.

VILOKO: Varyyn, you should know full well that the Catalysts are our enemies! You were with us in that battle that should not have been a battle! We have no need to wonder. It has already been made clear: the Catalysts are our enemies!

He draws a ceremonial knife from its sheath at his waist and holds it aloft.

VILOKO: Why are we talking? We should be acting!

SERAXA: Heed my warrior’s words! He speaks the truth!

Piercing war cries erupt from the crowd. Ximaedra raises both hands in an attempt to quiet the crowd as Uqzhaal pounds his staff on the ground. The Vaanti warriors press closer toward the Catalysts, who huddle in more tightly together. As the din crescendoes, Kele stomps a foot on the ground and makes a few quick gestures. A thin surge of water whips in through a window to impact with a resounding CRACK! against the opposite wall. Immediately, the room goes quiet.

KELE: HEY! Tribunal’s not over.

He bows quickly to Ximaedra before stepping back to his original position.

KELE (respectfully): Elyyshar. Proceed.

Ximaedra nods gratefully in his direction before returning her gaze to Viloko and Seraxa.

XIMAEDRA: There is a time for war-frenzy, and a time for order. You would do well to remember this.

VILOKO (ashamed): Yes, my elyyshar.

XIMAEDRA: Have you any more to say, Warrior Viloko?

VILOKO: Only that I stand by my words. We must treat the Catalysts as our enemies, lest we wish to be--

He stops talking as a deep, shuddering rumble echoes throughout the chamber. The other Vaanti all look up in fear, as do the Catalysts.

SERAXA: Wave-Lord! What trick of yours is this?!

KELE: This isn’t me. I’m not--

An impossibly tall wave crashes into the side of the chamber, water dripping through the windows. Kele quickly runs toward the water, doing his best to keep the torrent from drowning everyone inside the chamber. He visibly strains to send the water pouring harmlessly out another window.

SERAXA: Go! Tell us what happened!

Calvia nods to her War-Chief and dashes out of the chamber. Not fifteen seconds later, she comes sprinting back inside, wide-eyed with terror.

CALVIA (quaking with fear): Elyyshar. War-Chief.

She swallows hard, then looks back up at Ximaedra nervously.

CALVIA: Cetus has returned.

_______________________

Scene Notes: Yes, we're skipping Yvonne's entrance for now. Don't worry, I'd never miss including her in the story! She'll show up eventually. Next up: the battle with Cetus!

also I can finally start referring to them as 'Catalysts,' that was getting annoying

_______________________

Next: Trial by Water

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0 @shaylan211 @griselda1121 @acanthisorbis @marmolady @choicesbabie @mauvecatfic

Endless Summer Tag List: @mysteli @edgydepressedchoicesthot @endlessly-searching-for-you @lovelywrites

[choices-binglebonkus]

Of all the things in Endless Summer, I have to say this one fucked me up the most

[syphax]

Ok but can we all agree that varyyn and diego are one of the absolute best couples among all choices books? Like, when diego explains modern stuff to varyyn and tells him the stories of his favorite movies/series and varyyn listens to him the whole time?? They're the most underrated couple and AND THEY DESERVE MORE ATTENTION.

[endlessflame]

Diego and Varyyn - realistic art style

For Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈

[thedamnedlight]

Romeo-and-Juliet-Across-Time-and-Space

[yukkimons]

Love me or hate me but this is fucking gay

I adore them sm theyre my babies and i must protect them at all costs

[franzkafkagf]

Top 10 non LI choices characters

Disclaimer: These are all my opinion, but then again i‘m absolutely right. Alsooooo these are not a particular order anything

1. Corgi, The royal romance

A real friend to MC, the only one there for her.... skinny legend also his extra scene in the kitchen in the last chapter? God bless better than any drake scene ever

2. Whitlock, The crown and the flame

THIS BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART..... also his lil robodog......... i‘m dead a,, very good character

3. Diego, Endless summer

My main man Diego... I’m just saying you’re so cool I’d be glad to be your sidekick any day of the week. The only best friend my broke ass made in endless summer. Every choice I made was to please you and Michelle

4. Michelle, Endless Summer

And on this note, I LOVE HER! Whew thank god i complimented her make-up in the first chapter. But she‘s just such a genuine and good character!!!! PB you did greattttt! And now i‘d like to shoutout all ES gang characters. Y‘all deserve to be on here but I had to give other series a shot at this too

5. Poppy, Hero

Fashion icon, hype woman, mom friend...... whew queen but tbh i‘d like her to be an LI lol

6. Zack, TF/TS/TJ

The real one!!!!!!!! Always chill, except in TF4 but oh well... also he needs a make-over by the fab five but I still love my son, his friendship is too good for MC by the way

7. Olivia Nevarkis, The royal romance

I‘d let her stab me any day of the week. I was hyping her up more than my husband. I would run away with her, if she asked me to. The BEST TRR character don‘t try to change my mind.

8. Varyyn, Endless Summer

I know I said no more ES but a shoutout to Varyyn,, soft boy with his pop culture references and bad disguises. Mans so gay left the village he is leader to spend time with his boo and make him feel better about himself. Variego 4ever

9. Cow, Big sky country

*bitch i‘m a cow playing softly in the distance* True mvp, showing snobby city kids what‘s like in the Wild West. Legend.

10. Margaret, The crown and the flame

SKINNY LEGEND!!!!!!! SAVING THE FIVE KINGDOMS BY HER SELF!!!!! we decided to stan forever

[bytedykes]

[ID: a drawing of diego and varyyn from endless summer. they're shown in profile, varyyn standing behind diego, braiding his hair. he looks focused, and smiles slightly. diego looks back at him out of the corner of his eye. the drawing is done in simple lines and uncolored. /end ID]

when varyyn braids diego's hair at the beginning of book two 😩 i think about it a lot

[marmolady]

Diego and Jake

+Varyyn. Of course.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Una probadita de tu conchita - Endless Summer fic

Three facts that are true: 1- In México, “concha” is a type of sweet bread covered in a crunchy topping, typically eaten during breakfast. 2- In Colombia, “concha” means pussy. 3- Varyyn is trying to learn Spanish. No problems whatsoever could arise from this.

Estela was a little jealous of how quickly the Vaanti learnt languages. It had only been a few months since Varyyn started learning Spanish and he could already communicate pretty well - sometimes the way he phrased things was a little awkward, but otherwise he had great grammar and perfect pronunciation. Estela was far from having any problems when it came to grasping other languages, but the remarkable ease the Vaanti as a species had was not something she thought any human could match.

It did work out in her favor, though. Because Varyyn was very eager to train Spanish as much as he could, and that meant that she got to speak Spanish when it was just the two or three of them, which was a relief.

Not that she struggled otherwise - her English was perfect, thank you very much. It was simply more comfortable that way. What did Diego tell her Varyyn had called it… “The language of his heart”. Speaking in Spanish made her settle into a conversation in the same way she settled into her own skin. It just felt right.

All of that is to say - even though they weren’t exactly close, she felt very at ease right then, talking to Varyyn in the kitchen as they prepared to make food for Diego. He had spent the week in California, visiting abuela Claudia and having some last-minute meetings that the editors insisted couldn’t be done remotely. He would be back in La Huerta in just a few hours, and Varyyn, the romantic that he was, wanted to welcome him with homemade food.

The problem, of course, was that Varyyn was not even particularly skilled at making Vaanti food, nevermind Mexican food. But since Estela was the only Catalyst at the island by then and she was well used to cooking for herself, she offered to help. Also, she had been to just about every country in Latin America, aiding in a revolution or another; she might not be an expert in Mexican cuisine, but she was probably the best help Varyyn could get.

(Well, except for Raj. And probably Milagros, who seemed to be able to draw infinite knowledge out of thin air. She still wondered how the hell Vaanu created him with the ability to drive a jet ski. But Milagros wasn’t there anymore and Raj was busy with his TV show, so Estela was the best realistic option.)

So in short - Estela was feeling very at ease, very confident in herself, peaceful even, maybe just a little sad, but mostly alright, when she calmly and unsuspectingly asked Varyyn what he was planning on making. A normal and predictable question that would, in an ideal world, lead to a normal and predictable conversation.

But there were few adjectives that applied less to La Huerta than “normal” and “predictable”, so naturally Varyyn responded by scratching his head and saying, “I was wondering if you knew how to make, ah…” he paused for a bit, as if trying to build the sentence in his head, “los Colombianos también tienen conchas?”

Do Colombian men also have pussies?

As Estela’s soul left her body, she contemplated her options. She would have been more than happy to stick with option one - set something on fire and stage an escape - but there was some merit to the idea that she could be mature and normal. She didn’t have many flammable items at her disposal, and it had been a pain for them to build this house for the Catalysts, anyway.

And anyway, apparently someone had to have this conversation with Varyyn, and better her than- actually, she couldn’t think of anyone worse to handle this conversation. Where was Michelle when you needed her? Estela was sure that she would have been able to handle this remarkably.

“No. I mean, yes. Well, some of them,” this was why she let Tío Nicolas handle the whole talking and motivating part of planning revolutions. “It’s not- okay, so did Diego explain to you what ‘trans’ and ‘cis’ mean?” Varyyn nodded, cocking his head curiously. “Okay, great. So, hm, there are trans and cis people all over the world, anywhere. It doesn’t really have anything to do with where they’re from. There are plenty of cis men in México, and plenty of trans men in Colombia. Diego just happens to be trans and Mexican.”

Varyyn looked at her in confusion. “And only trans men have conchas?” he asked, like he couldn’t wrap his head around the concept.

That… Was a question she didn’t see coming. What else did he think being trans was about? Maybe the Vaanti’s gender system has nothing to do with genitals. Maybe their genitals are completely different from those of a human. Maybe Estela doesn’t want to keep pursuing thoughts of Varyyn’s genitals. “Yes, only trans men.”

“I see,” Varyyn said, nodding thoughtfully. Estela was just about to pat herself in the back for how she handled this conversation. And then he added: “so you don’t have a concha, then?”

Why is this happening to me, Estela wondered. She didn’t believe in god or karma or anything like that, but she still believed that she never did anything so bad that she deserved this. Well, except for all the murder. But that was justified. If anything, surely she had already had her lifetime’s fill of psychological torture, what with her mother being killed and the entire summer of 2017. And yet, this was her terrible reality: standing there alone in a kitchen with Varyyn, being asked about her genitals, too shocked to do something like launch herself through the window and roll down the cliff and into the sea - anything but answering him.

“Uhm, that’s not- I mean, uh. Well I guess I, I do. I am a woman and… That is to say, cis women have them too,” she said, eloquently.

“You look red,” Varyyn noted.

“Yes. It’s the blood.”

Varyyn looked alarmed. “Blood? Where?”

“In my. Mind.” Estela shook her head. “Let’s start this over.”

“But you said there was blood!” Varyyn replies, frantically searching Estela for injuries.

“No. Well, I mean, yes. But that’s normal. We all have blood.”

Varyyn looked at Estela. Estela looked at Varyyn back. They both looked at each other.

“Anyway.” She continued, “I was just, uh, a little taken aback by your question. I mean, the Vaanti blush too, don’t they? Seraxa looked very purple during the whole ‘Grandma’ incident a while back. I thought she was on the verge of death or something, but then I remembered that red and blue equals purple,” she was kind of rambling by then, and suddenly she realized that she probably should change the topic of this conversation. “Anyway, we should get to baking. This is gonna take a few hours, and Diego is going to board the plane soon.”

As always, the mention of Diego successfully distracted Varyyn. “Yes. Of course,” he nodded.

For a few seconds, she thought there would be peace. She should’ve known that concept would remain as foreign as ever to her, because right after-

“Have you ever tried Diego’s concha?” Estela wondered if it was too late to convert back to Catholicism and ask god to come to her aid. Why did Varyyn keep coming back to this?

“I’m a lesbian,” she answered, because she really didn’t know how else to reply to this question.

Varyyn nodded, but he also frowned slightly. “I’m aware,” he replied, like that didn’t mean anything.

Estela just looked at him, stunned. Was Varyyn… Transphobic? That didn’t seem to make sense. She knew the Vaanti had a sex binary, of course, but they didn’t seem to particularly care about gender, and Diego had told her many times that it was a relief to see how no one cared about that. But maybe they didn’t care because they saw only sex. Maybe Varyyn still saw him differently.

“Diego is a man,” she said, her voice like steel.

“...Yes.” Varyyn was looking at her like she was fucking stupid, which was pretty unfair, considering he was the one who wasn’t making any sense.

“Lesbians… Are not attracted to men.”

“Diego has informed me of the human titles regarding one’s sexual preferences,” he even had the gall to act like he was confused.

“So why would you think I would do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he shrugged, “Diego’s concha is delicious.”

I am dead and this is hell, she thought. That wasn’t true, of course. She wished she was dead. She wished for many things. She wished she had never learnt the Spanish language. A lifetime of cultural displacement would have been worth it if she didn’t get to experience this. She wished it was socially acceptable to shove her head into the sand to avoid awkward conversations. Actually, thinking about it, she didn’t really know how the Vaanti would see that. Maybe they would be perfectly fine with it. Maybe it was time someone put that to the test.

“You look troubled,” Varyyn observed.

God. How could she even begin to explain this to him? “We just, hm, don’t really talk about stuff like this,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck, “it’s taboo. You know what taboo means, right?” Estela waited until Varyyn nodded. “Right. So it’s best if you don’t go around telling anyone about conchas, or-” she suddenly realized that she really didn’t want to say ‘verga’ to Varyyn, or in front of Varyyn, or within a hundred mile radius of Varyyn, or possibly to anyone ever, “-anything like that.”

Varyyn's eyes looked very wide. “Oh, really?” He said, his voice a bit too awed and vulnerable for this conversation, “I had no idea. It was the first thing Diego showed me.”

Slutshaming is bad, Estela reminded herself, but she really couldn't help but wonder how Diego managed to meet Varyyn pussy first. His clothes were a little torn when they rescued him but it was nothing that bad. Then again, she wasn't exactly checking for crotch tears.

“How taboo is it? You seem like close friends, so is that… Family only?”

She would assume he was doing this on purpose if it weren't for the absolutely wondrous look on his face. “Uh, you probably won't want to show that to your family either. It's more of an intimate partners thing,” seriously, did the Vaanti just show their junk to anybody? Estela thought she would have probably noticed that. Then again, Diego had a 6 months headstart to take the brunt of the cultural shock. Did he get them to cover their stuff before the rest of them were back? Because if so, Estela had a lot to thank him for. Maybe he would appreciate a fruit basket.

“Truly? Did he… Did he really trust me that much, even back then?”

The look on his face was so awed and sweet, Estela even felt her embarrassment ebbing away. As much as she didn't want to know the details of their sex life, the way this obviously meant a lot to Varyyn tugged at her heartstrings. Cultural shock could be awful sometimes, but the two of them always made it look wonderful.

“Well, I can't really speak for the circumstances, but- yes, I do think so. Especially considering that he's trans.”

Varyyn nodded. “If this is a sign of intimacy, I should see to getting Diego some as soon as possible.”

Why

was this happening to her?

“It's not… I mean, I don't think it's about the concha itself. More… The act,” she was pretty sure she'd never been this red before, “that is to say, I'm sure what you've been giving Diego is just as good.”

Varyyn cocked his head curiously, so, in a desperate attempt to avoid further questions, she made a vague gesture towards him that she hoped would convey that dicks were not lesser lovemaking appendages or… Something. Varyyn frowned, then turned towards the counter behind him, still full of ingredients, and she supposed that was at least enough to distract him, because he looked even more concentrated on finishing Diego's meal. He nodded.

“Well, I can see this subject is bothering you, so we shall speak of it no further,” suddenly, Estela understood, clear as day, why Diego fell in love with this man so fast. “Let's focus on what you're comfortable with instead. What kind of desserts do you usually make in Colombia?”

Bit of a non-sequitur, but okay. Desserts were fine, desserts were safe. Estela could work with that. Desserts certainly couldn’t lead to that kind of awkward conversation.

“Well, there’s a lot. Dulce de brevas, postre de natas, flan de coco, enyucada…” Varyyn nodded politely, but he kept glancing at the table, and suddenly she understood. “But I don’t think those will be very familiar to Diego. I was thinking we could make churros.” Not exactly Mexican per se, but popular enough in… All of Latin America, really, that she knew how to make them.

Besides, she was pretty sure Varyyn could give him raw rice and Diego would still be grateful. Emotional even. He was a big fan of single tears running down cheeks and stuff.

So she showed him the steps, and he only mildly fucked it up (a good portion of the first batch was nearly lost because he gripped the piping bag like he was trying to strangle a tiger), and they continued working on Diego’s meal - chilaquiles with frijoles refritos and huevo estallado, nothing fancy but good and simple enough that they have time to fix any mistakes they (Varyyn) might make.

It actually went smoothly.

Until Diego arrived.

Varyyn immediately dropped the last churro into the hot oil, nearly hitting Estela with the skin-melting droplets, and dashed towards the cabin door. “Diego!” he exclaimed in joy, as if he thought he was dead, or something.

Diego laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of reuniting with you.”

“Mhm,” Varyyn replied, sounding suspiciously like he had his face buried in Diego’s hair, “your editor meetings are very long.”

“You have no idea,” Diego sighed, finally making his way inside, before a wooshing sound made him yelp. “Oh, you really missed me, huh?”

“It’s not that. Although I did,” Estela could practically hear his smile, “it’s just, I was talking to Estela…”

“Estela?”

She emerged and waved. She did pride herself on her good entrance timing, and the churro had already been removed from the frying oil. “Hey, Guito.”

“Ohh, is that why it smells like food in here?” He grinned. “You know, as opposed to burning charcoal?”

Varyyn smiled slyly. “Estela has been a great help.” Then his face suddenly turned serious, “but that’s not what I wanted to say. Estela told me that conchas were something you only share with an intimate partner. I just… Thank you, Diego, for trusting me so much.” He sounded way too emotional for such a… Well, she'd have to think of qualifiers later, conversation.

Diego flushed in a way that would make Estela feel vindicated if he didn't look so pleased. “I mean… I never really thought of it that way. Is it for weddings in Colombia?”

Was Diego asking her if Colombians save themselves for after marriage? Did he think they were in the Middle Ages or something? “We're notthat old fashioned, Diego, Jesus.”

“Woah, okay, didn't think this was a sore spot,” he said, raising both hands as if Estela was about to put him in a headlock. “It's just not really like that in México? It's pretty casual. A breakfast thing, mostly.”

“A… Breakfast thing?” What in the actual hell was this conversation? Were Mexicans partial to morning sex? And if so, why must she learn about it?

“Yes?” Diego looked puzzled. “Why do you look so shocked? When exactly do Colombians eat conchas?”

“That's- we don't have a set time for it!” God, please, if you're real, smite me now.

God, once again, proved to not be real. “Alright then. Guess I'll avoid serving you conchas in the near future, just to be sure.”

Estela truly prayed that “serving conchas” meant the same thing in México that it did in English, because if not, then what the hell?

Actually, even in that context, what the hell?

“What the hell?”

“What?” Diego asked, looking like he was the one having a conversation that’s completely insane.

“I just, why is everyone so sure that I'd like to eat your-” God, she could feel the red crawling up her face, “just, yours, of all people?”

“Well, now I can't help but be offended. What's wrong with my-”

“Nothing! I mean, I wouldn't know! I don't want to know! You're handfasted to Varyyn anyway, why would you want me to eat your-”

“Again, it's seriously not that big of a deal for us. You can let anyone have your conchas, it's fine-”

“Diego, my love, I feel you're being culturally insensitive. This is clearly important to Colombians, maybe we should just let her be. More for us, anyway. And your other friends, if they're alright with that.”

What. “Are you guys looking for… Threesome partners?” Her voice sounded a bit squeaky.

“No?”

“What's a threesome?”, asked Varyyn.

“Don't worry about it,” the two of them said in worryingly perfect sync.

“Weird thing to proposition out of nowhere, Estela, Jesus. Like, no offense, but we're happy together. Also, I thought you were a lesbian?”

Estela endured years of training to withstand the worst kinds of conditions, which was the only thing keeping her from falling to her knees in agony. “That's what I've been saying!”

“Okay, I can't help but feel like we're having wildly different conversations. What's the deal with conchas in Colombia?”

“There’s no deal-”

“Then why are you being so weird about sweet bread?”

“What?”

“What?”

They stared at each other.

“I believe we are all lost,” Varyyn said solemnly.

“You know, conchas? Sweet bread with crunchy toppings, usually shaped like shells?”

“...Oh,” Estela said, feeling this moment brand itself into her brain to be revisited every time she tried to sleep for the next thousand years. “Oh, god,” she said, crouching and hugging her knees. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified. Varyyn and Diego weren’t asking her to have oral sex with him in the middle of the kitchen. They wanted to make sweet bread.

They were talking about pastries the whole time.

She buried her face in her knees and willed La Huerta to regain its time-messing properties to propel her to the past and keep this from ever happening, but the universe, as ever, didn’t listen. No gods, energies, or saints had ever come to her aid. She had nothing in this world but herself, and it was up to her to deal with this situation.

“Pussy,” she said, miserable.

“...What?” Diego looked like he was going insane.

“Concha,” she said, in English, gritting her teeth and willing herself to withstand the agonizing embarrassment, “means pussy. In Colombia.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Estela agreed.

“Oh, god.”

“Yeah,” Estela agreed.

Diego also slid into the floor and buried his face in his knees. Faint groaning could be heard from his general direction.

“So when Varyyn said he had my concha, you thought he meant-”

“Yeah.”

“And when I said you should try mine, you thought I meant-”

“Yeah.”

“And when-”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I believe I’m still lost,” Varyyn said. “What’s a pussy?”

“Varyyn, no,” Diego exclaimed, making exact the same face he did when they found Varyyn in the Observatory, “it’s not too late for you. Save yourself.”

“Vagina,” Estela said immediately afterwards. “Pussy is a crass word for vagina.”

“Oh,” Varyyn said, suddenly turning purple. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Diego agreed.

“Oh,” Estela groaned.

They contemplated the truth of those words, each from their spot on the floor.

*

Varyyn eventually cleared his throat. “So, to be clear, there is nothing special about baking someone conchas? You were talking about making love?”

“Try to look less upset, we're literally married.”

“I was feeling very special,” Varyyn smirked.

“Yeah, I bet you were.”

Estela groaned, mostly to remind them that she was still there. The last thing she needed was to end up… witnessing… something again.

*

The world keeps spinning and waits for no one, and humans (and Vaanti) need to eat. So after making the two of them promise to not tell this to anyone else and double checking that Varyyn was not crossing his fingers, they marched to the table like warriors, intent on finishing the day on a positive note.

Estela was surprised to find that the conversation moved smoothly, mostly thanks to Diego’s unwavering talent at running his mouth, and Varyyn’s appreciation of it. As frustrating as editors' meetings were, he was very proud of his book, and the fact that he already knew it would be a bestseller didn’t hurt either. Estela wasn’t exactly familiarized with most of the media he talked about, but when he talked about it, she suddenly understood how magic stories could be. His excitement was contagious, his insights were unique, and the stories filled the room like they once filled his ever-so-lonely heart.

All of that is to say, Estela was feeling fine, recovered even, maybe still a little embarrassed, but mostly alright, when-

“Wait,” Varyyn said. “When you said that what I was giving Diego was just as good, you meant-”

Estela screamed.

[ellariouss]

HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT

[chyeahboy]

my babies