#we’re making good progress towards many goals i just like to stay on top of them

[tricitymonsters]

It’s time for another mandatory shill! TCM is getting close to 50 reviews on steam (its like a magic number in their algorithm that opens the game up to be shown to more of their userbase). I know MANY of you have left very kind and thoughtful reviews but if you haven yet and want to help give the game a great marketing boost, this is an easy way to do so! Leaving an honest review in just a sentence or two is totally fine, though I also invite longer comments if you have more thoughts to share! As always, you can see TCM’s other reviews and fan interactions on the game’s store page.

[leefi]

Hi, I noticed you did the MBTI types of the ORV characters, and I was wondering what you think the MBTI types are for the Revue Starlight gals :D

Anon, I want you to know that this google doc is 14 pages single-spaced, and I'm still not done.

WITH THAT BEING SAID, I'm so glad you asked!! I'll be breaking this up into four parts so we don't have to scroll through one massive wall of text. The other schools will take a bit more time to publish as I'm still working on a couple from each (I think I have four girls left!).

But without further ado:

Starira MBTI Part 1 - Seisho

Siegfeld

Frontier

Rinmeikan

I had a lot of help with all of this reading @HalfACape’s wonderful character analyses of so many of the girls on twitter, as well as consulting the Personality Database page for the characters I was less sure about (though there were a few I disagreed with on there - none in Seisho, we'll be discussing the others later). But everyone feel free to discuss if you disagree with anything!

Karen Aijo: ENFP

ENFPs’ dominant function is Ne (extroverted intuition) (that running gag Karen has in the game where she mishears words, spouting off suggestions even if they make absolutely zero sense to the situation at hand - “telescope? telephone? telenovella?” - is such stereotypical Ne). Ne is always running towards any possibility, no matter how unlikely it seems, and I don’t need to spell out for you how much of that we saw from Karen in the anime. Ne-Fi feed each other to create a rebel/free-spirit type of personality (Ne seeks all possibilities, Fi holds strong inner values and selfish desires - what do I want, what do I need? How does this make me feel?). Her Te isn’t too developed yet, which is fine because it’s tertiary and she’s still so young. That tertiary, undeveloped Te shows up in her scatterbrained, lackadaisical, go-with-the-flow attitude (but when dominant Fi gets fired up by something - like an old childhood friend coming home - it kicks Te into high gear). Inferior introverted Sensing shows no respect towards rules or regulations - see her revue with Junna (Si-dominant) and the anger she draws out of Maya for (a child of the system and traditionally hard worker) in their Revue of Pride. Karen is the natural rebel, the forever optimist, the sunshine girl - textbook ENFP.

Mahiru Tsuyuzaki: INFP

If you want to see what leading with an introverted function looks like compared to an extroverted function, compare Mahiru to Karen! They share the exact same functions, just flipped on the I/E axis. So Mahiru is Fi, Ne, Si, Te. Karen is Ne, Fi, Te, Si. And Mahiru is a very clear example of an INFP - such a warm, brilliant, awe-inspiring person, but can also be her own worst enemy and others tend to underestimate her. And it’s hard, I don’t blame her! Leading with Fi and not having that physical/in the moment Se to support it (like ISFPs do, just compare her to Kaoruko--yes--they’re only one letter off from each other) means that it’s extremely hard for INFPs to naturally advocate for themselves...so instead, they retreat into their own imaginations where it’s safer (Ne). BUT THEY’RE SO INCREDIBLE!! THERE’S SO MUCH THERE TO RESPECT AND ADMIRE!! *shakes her like maracas* IF YOU WOULD JUST SHOW US!!!!!!! (and this is her whole arc in the anime i don’t need to tell her lol). It’s actually so interesting how she and Karen’s Fi and Ne escapism manifests in their respective introverted/extroverted personalities. These two really are more similar than most of us think!

I love INFPs so, so much because they’re like sleeping giants. Once they get a hold of and develop that inferior extroverted Thinking it’s over - nobody else can compare. They’re like the characters in video games that start off super weak, and then you blink and suddenly they’ve become the most powerful units near the end of the game.

Kagura Hikari: INTJ

ENFP’s stereotypical partner (I swear every other reserved person A/sunshine person B couple in fiction is this type pairing) and while it’s tropey it works because these two types play off each other so well. I actually originally had her pegged as an ISTJ, but I think that her bullheadedness earlier in the anime is more indicative of Ni being stubborn. Hikari is cagey, reserved (tert Fi/inferior Se), and an incredibly high-achieving individual (dominant Ni sets specific goals, auxiliary Te implements). Her tertiary Fi (which INTJs LOVE to keep locked up, right here, forever, until they die) is so obvious as you slowly learn just how much of a sap/romantic she is. It’s her weaker Fi that holds that sentimentality towards Starlight after all these years, her Fi that struggles to hold on to that childhood promise, her Fi that has her following Karen (and eventually Mahiru as well) around like a duckling (though we initially get the impression that the dynamic is the other way around). She grows to care deeply for all the other girls around her and that’s all her tertiary introverted Feeling getting stronger as the story progresses! Like so many people in the fandom have realized, she isn’t a mean person, she’s just socially awkward. Not too much to say on her inferior Se, that mostly manifests in how she’s a homelier person who would rather stay in than go out, and doesn’t actively try to seek new experiences (this was what had me thinking ISTJ at first).

Junna Hoshimi: ISTJ

Karen’s polar opposite - they actually share the exact same functions, just in reverse! So Junna leads with introverted Sensing where it’s Karen’s weakest, and Karen leads with extroverted Intuition where it’s Junna’s weakest. And we see this play out in their revue!

Junna is one of my favorite characters in the series for a reason and it’s because it’s SO rare to see the ISTJ in a rebellious role. Si is all about following and respecting order, and Junna breaks all of that to create her own! We see that dominant Si show up in literally every other facet of her life, though - from her by-the-book attitude to her stringency with deadlines and tardiness to her respect for the creatives of old - Shakespeare, Nietschze, etc. She’s an incredibly bright and successful student as well (any type can be of course but the “kind of student” she is is very much Te supporting Si - super studious and placing heavy weight on studying and getting straight A’s). And her Fi is SO GOOD. SO SO SO SO GOOD AND SO APPARENT - MUCH stronger than IxTJ’s sibling Hikari’s at the start of the anime. That’s where the rebellious part of her spirit comes from - her values, her strong sense of self and desire for autonomy (EXTREMELY Fi thing - Fi is all about the self, how I feel about something, what I want out of this, not feeling trapped by others’ expectations, etc.). Inferior Ne manifests in how she struggles with improvisation, ends up tunnel visioning (see her revue with Karen), and can sometimes struggle to accept new ideas or ways of doing things (Junna works so hard, but it’s evident in the anime and a lot of her starira bond stories that she can end up getting stuck in her old ways if someone else doesn’t come in to offer a new perspective -- see her Jekyll bond story dialogue with Maya!). Another example we see is when her extroverted xSTJ sibling Akira, who has Ne a step higher than her but understands where she’s coming from with their shared functions, guides her towards using it in the High Priestess bond story!

Nana Daiba: ESFJ

Textbook ESFJ!! Caring, motherly, affable; Fe doms are always looking to appeal to the group and make sure that everybody feels comfortable (and, likewise, are very keen on suppressing their own insecurities/emotions/discomforts). Nana is not ambitious for ambition’s sake, and in fact suppresses her own talents to appeal to the group. As for that Si aux… :) Si aux�� :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :) Si aux… :)

Unhealthy Si can manifest as an extreme fixation on past experiences and a fear of moving on (we’re going to see this later with Si-dom Fumi too). Her poor tertiary Ne had gotten absolutely quashed by her stronger auxiliary Si in the anime - it doesn’t want to change anything! Claudine and Maya can be the leads again. We don’t need to modify the script. The first one was already perfect, why are we risking failure by changing things?! Also, holding herself back for the sake of everyones’ happiness is so Fe dom it hurts. If you want to see the difference between ESFJ and ENFJ (the two Fe-doms of MBTI), compare her to Michiru, who also suppresses her talents -- yes to cultivate the other girls’ (specifically Akira’s) brilliance but also for the sake of her ulterior motives to one day create her own troupe (aux Ni at work vs. Nana’s aux Si). Nana’s is more deferrant, but still just as ferocious - she’ll defeat Maya 60 times over to get what she wants. And the craziest thing is that all of this comes out of love and fear - she’s scared, and all of that is coming from her unhealthy Si aux. Junna is a very good example for her to follow for healthier Si.

Claudine Saijo: ENTJ

“DON’T IGNORE MY LINES!!!” ENTJs LOVE being at the top - the leaders of the pride, the people in charge, the ones you have to answer to (AND she’s a Leo too. Jfc girl pick a struggle LMAOOOOO). You get the picture - except Claudine isn’t in that position. Maya is. Claudine doesn’t even get a revue or her own song, because she’s Maya’s eternal second. This is a really, really uncomfortable spot for an ENTJ to be in, and it’s evident in how hard she pushes herself - and how antsy she gets whenever Maya is around. But Claudine never blames an outside system or factors like Karen (inferior Si) does for her situation - she just gets angry and more driven to succeed, bulldozing her way to the finish line (dominant Te-tertiary Se interacting). The tragedy of her character is that she will never surpass Maya, so we see her Ni begin to reframe achieving the very top to becoming the only star in Maya’s eye (little does she know that she’s already succeeded). That ripping off of her cloak at the end of the revue duet - “the only loser here is me” - is her inferior Fi poking its head out. At the end of the day, Claudine is an interesting character because she’s a walking contradiction. She’s a star denied a spotlight, but she isn’t a failure either, so she’s forced to grapple with this ambiguous, there-but-not-quite-there middle ground. It’s one big identity crisis in the making, and it’s clear to see why so many people relate to her and love her as a character - a lot of us can empathize with never quite being satisfied, and looking up towards heights that can appear insurmountable.

Maya Tendo: INFJ

She seems so normal and established and then you look closer and realize there’s something seriously wrong with her and oh my god where did this massive god complex come from. Typical Ni dom

From her detached, more “mature” personality to her altruistic and often surprisingly keen insight towards people, she has so many key makings of an INFJ. That dominant Ni is strong in Maya - everything is poured into theatre. Everything. From her hobbies to her interests to her personality, everything Maya does in her life is deliberate and all of it is for the sake of theatre. Ni bitches LOVE to fixate on just one thing, and for Maya, that is the stage. “I have no need for those who lack willpower...Come climb up here if you have the resolve...A single step forward is a step closer to my dream” is just...yeah I’m being redundant. Dominant introverted intuition. Ni Ni Ni Ni. This girl embodies it - while Hikari is also a Ni-dom, Maya shows a TON more of it than her (can’t say I blame the writers - Ni is probably the most difficult function to write because it requires thinking so many steps ahead for your character). We can see a marked difference between INFJs and INTJs here in how Maya and Hikari practice solitude - Hikari purposely isolates herself from Karen to avoid hurting her, while Maya purposely isolates and crafts herself into an untouchable God to serve as an inspiration to others (auxiliary extroverted Feeling). Want to see how this looks with the INFJ’s extroverted sibling, the ENFJ? Look at how Michiru crafts Akira’s public image. That’s Ni and Fe at work, just in different priority slots (Maya is Ni dominant, Michiru is Fe dominant - they share the same functions, just flipped on the I/E axis). That tertiary Ti is very prevalent too - Maya mostly keeps her thoughts to herself, and loves to mull over things. She definitely isn’t the first one to shout out an answer, she prefers to think things over.

One interesting comment that really stood out to me on her personality database page was how she’s an INFJ with an INTP persona in the anime, and I think I agree (INFJs and INTPs tend to present similarly and can be easily confused with each other anyway)! But I want to add on to that - I think that INTP presentation is her auxiliary Fe at play crafting a persona that better coincides with Claudine’s, as ENTJ/INTP matchups are extremely compatible (not saying Maya was thinking about MBTI LOL but rather she brought out and exemplified aspects of her personality that would better complement Claudine’s - their partnership is not a one-way street at all! Maya does so much for her!!). Just compare anime Maya to stageplay Maya, where she gives no headway and is absolutely brutal to Claudine.

Futaba Isurigi: ISTP

Futaba is such a great example of what a healthy ISTP can look like! Dominant Ti shows up in how she communicates with others - she's honest, direct, and to the point, but it's never utilized in a way that’s mean-spirited (contrary to how her girlfriend often can be) - it’s just how she communicates. Claudine (a Te dom which works SO well with Ti) actually points out in Starira that this is why they get along so well. Aux Se shows up in her physicality - her love and strength is in stage fights, she's into mechanics with her motorcycle and does all the maintenance herself, etc. Funnily enough, I think that tert Ni, while a slot above Fe, is actually Futaba’s least developed trait (or, at least, the one she's most guarded about) - she went into Seisho to follow Kaoruko, and her aux Se dominates that tert slot and gives her a … little bit of a lackadaisical attitude? Obviously not as much as someone like Karen, but in many senses she doesn't outwardly display a strong fear or anxiety towards the future like the other girls (completely understandably) do - and it’s that tert Ni getting angry when she feels as if Kaoruko is stagnating in her plans. There’s some inklings of her own plan for the future, but Futaba’s own individual plans are mostly kept to herself, so we don’t know how much or little she’s done about them. (I have more to add but will not continue as I’m venturing into movie spoilers territory, but for those that have watched/read them, try to draw your own conclusions based on what I’ve said!). I think that having such a close relationship with Kaoruko is what pushed her to develop that inferior Fe so early to support her girlfriend's dominant Fi. I actually originally had her typed as ESTP for how strong her Fe was (ESTPs have it a slot higher than their introverted siblings), but she really doesn’t strike me as an extrovert, and ISTPs with developed Fe can be very warm, affable people too!

Kaoruko Hanayagi: ISFP

“Kaoruko Hanayagi’s dream is world domination.”

Kaoruko is such a great example of what an unhealthy ISFP can look like! LMAOOO but no, I’m dead serious - if you want to know what unhealthy introverted Feeling looks like, look to Kaoruko. Everything is me me me me me me me, to hell with what anyone else wants (if you want to compare unhealthy Fe to unhealthy Fi, compare Nana and Kaoruko). Tertiary Ni shows up to support Fi in how surprisingly sharp she is towards other people - what makes them tick, exactly where to hurt, their inner thoughts and feelings (see her bathtub conversation with Mahiru).

BUT THAT DOMINANT Fi IS ALSO SUCH A POWERFUL THING. That “me me me me me me” is going to turn into “my vision, and what I want to create, and what I’m going to do” (once that inferior Te finally develops - which Kaoruko is going to be forced to put work into eventually). This is why, like Mahiru, I think that Kaoruko is seriously going to blossom later on in life - ISFPs and INFPs, the Pisces of the MBTI, have this weird penchant for going under the rader and then becoming insanely fucking successful OUT OF NOWHERE??? Like, they aren’t super motivated and driven with a specific plan like Ni-strong xNxJs, or disciplined and hardworking like Te-strong xSTJs, but???? You blink and suddenly they’re millionaires with four creative projects going on simultaneously (but if they get bored with any of them they’ll drop them instantly - you could not pay me all the money in the world to be an IxFP’s manager it must be an absolute nightmare <3). Just...legends out of nowhere? Rihanna is an ISFP Pisces so I have real world evidence to back this up.

[omniscientwreck]

Day 7: Bread & Soup // Creation

Here we are! Finally finished Day 7! I’ve never completed anything like this before so I hope you’ve enjoyed this journey with me! Thanks to the folks who organized @shadowgastweek and I’ve loved seeing everyone’s contributions. Here’s hoping this Thursday is a good one for our boys <3 

As always please let me know what you think, this is unedited so proceed with caution, and stay tuned for the college AU I’ve been working on. 

Day 7: Bread & Soup // Creation

Essek knows that, providing he says yes, the moment the Nein find out they are engaged all hell will break loose.

Essek knows that, providing Caleb says yes, the moment the Nein find out they are engaged all hell will break loose. He’s not a particularly conventional or traditional man and a few short years ago he would have never paid mind to the idea of getting married one day.

Things have changed, he’s changed quite significantly. Every day he spends with the copper haired wizard who calls him sweetheart and angel the more convinced he is that they should never be apart.

If simply having the Nein for friends had changed him, loving someone and being loved in return had made him a new person. The simplicity of having someone to come home to, someone to make noise in his previously empty tower. With the relinquishing of much of the privilege of the Thelyss name, they’d taken up residence in a less auspicious district of the firmaments, outside of the gated community in which he’d been raised.

It felt good to be closer to his friends, a few streets down from the Xorhaus, and it felt good to build a home with someone. Caleb hadn’t moved in immediately of course, it took a year or so before they progressed enough in their relationship to feel comfortable sharing a life. That doesn’t mean Caleb’s tastes hadn’t influenced Essek’s decisions, and when he moved in they continued adjusting and changing until they both felt they belonged there.

He asked Caleb to marry him on the anniversary of their first date. After defeating Lucien they’d gone back to Aeor and studied and after a while the tension built. There were small touches, lingering glances, at first Essek attributed this to how Caleb treated his other friends. But as time passed eventually they would reach for each other’s hands, if there was a breakthrough Caleb would press their foreheads together and hold his face and the closeness was intoxicating.

They would have discussions late into the night, discovering and learning. They told stories of their pasts and eventually Essek opened up to Caleb completely, there was not a secret of his the wizard hadn’t heard and Caleb returned the trust in kind.

They worked hard over months and when they were done and had a reason to part ways, Essek found he couldn’t. “I have something to ask of you, it is just a question and any response is acceptable of course. I do not want to pressure you.”

Caleb turned and leaned down, catching Essek’s eyes from the spot on the ground he’d been intently staring at, “Of course, you can ask any question of me.” He was clearly confused but trying to reassure Essek with a small smile.

“I have had, to be honest, a wonderful time studying with you here. Not just studying but talking, getting to know you. I have come to realize that I am quite fond of you Caleb Widogast.” Words tumbled out of his mouth and if he stopped the momentum at all he would lose steam and walk back his confession, “I was wondering whether, when we’re back in Roshona, or anywhere really it matters not to me, if I may buy you dinner. Or we could go do something else, take in some theatre, a concert. I care not what we do I simply wish to be there with you.”

He was out of breath and he knew the effort that had taken cause a deep flush on his cheeks. He searched Caleb’s face and his heart fluttered as his companion’s smile widened, “Yes,” His voice was tender as he closed the distance between them, “That would be much to my liking. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too Essek and I’d like to see where this road may take us.”

“Well I suspect dinner will the the first place.” Caleb nodded and grabbed for Essek’s hand and they walked together to the Xhorhasian base to leave for home.

Their first date had been everything Essek expected and more, they went on more and more dates, spent time with each other studying, talking, enjoying music and art, and taking physical comfort in each other. It had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced. To miss someone when they were away, to feel like two people with one goal, one project, beginning to build something together that was intangible and entirely personal.

It wasn’t long after they’d begun cohabitating that Essek had though of marriage. It’s interesting how casual a thought it had become in the past few months. Considering Caleb might be his husband, to willingly join himself to another. To never be alone again.

The night he asks, Caleb has just come home from a trip to assist Yussa. They worked together on occasion and whenever Caleb went to his aid he was gone for an extended period. They’d been working on something to do with the folding halls and Caleb has begun telling him all about it. Whenever he tells Essek of these projects his face changes completely, there’s no hint of the sorrow that’s weighed him down for so long, he uses his hands to talk and his features are bright and animated.

He realizes a little too late that his mind has completely wandered off and Caleb is trying to get his attention back to him. “Schatz, what is that faraway look in your eyes? What are you dreaming of?”

Before even realizing the word he’s forming he’s already spoken, “You.”

Cheeks burning, he feels himself beginning to flail at the sweet look on his lover’s face, “Caleb I know we have talked about this before and I know the consensus wasn’t entirely clear but it’s been some time and I love you deeply. Everything we’ve been through together has strengthened us. You’ve made me a better man, taught me so much about life, we’ve conquered so many seemingly insurmountable tasks side by side and with the aid of our friends. We have walked through hell and back and I know that together we can do anything we set our minds to. I love you wholly and without hesitation and I would be honoured if you give to me the greatest happiness of becoming my husband.”

At that he pulls a ring he’s been saving from his wristpocket. It’s simple and silver, two bands side by side that cross over three times at the top of the ring, polished and clean. He holds it to Caleb who is beaming and holding out a simple golden band to Essek, it’s thin and polished with a flat top and a small red gem. “Mein Engel I could not possibly say yes fast enough, I have, I will admit, been waiting for the moment for quite some time. As usual you beat me to the punch.”

Hands trembling, Caleb allows Essek to slide the ring onto this hand and in turn does the same. Essek strokes Caleb’s face with the back of his hand and they embrace, hands entwining into each other’s hair, he holds Caleb as close as physics will allow but finds even that is not close enough. They stay like that for a long time before Caleb breaks the embrace, “We had better tell the Nein, Jester will throw a fit if she finds out we made her wait.”

“Tomorrow, tonight is for us and then tomorrow we can plan.”

They kiss again and the night is filled with sweet affirmations and poetic words.

--------

The Nein arrived a week before the date, promising to help with any preparations needed. Though Essek is no longer integral to the Den’s society, there are still certain expectations. They have ensured the correct people are invited without expanding the affair to be too overwhelming, Essek will have to endure his family but small inconveniences can be tolerated for a greater good.

His mother is, of course, scandalized but he pays it little mind. His brother is surprisingly ecstatic and takes a larger role in planning than Essek would have initially anticipated. He helps them find venues, flowers, caterers (though Jester, as a wedding gift, takes care of the cake and pastries). It’s strange to reconnect properly with his brother after so long apart, but it’s comforting that his attitude towards Essek hasn’t changed much. Growing up had done them both good.

They have asked Caduceus to perform their ceremony which he readily agreed to. They do away with anyone accompanying them to the alter, decide that they will walk out from opposing sides of the backyard layout they’ve planned, and join in the middle. As Caleb puts it, “This decision is mine and mine alone. I love my friends but it is important to me that I am not being given away and that I stand alone and commit myself to you.”

“Of course, I understand, anything you want my love.”

When Essek had explained the bread making ritual that is a part of most Xhorhasian weddings, Caleb had been more than accepting. “It’s customary for us to choose three people to make the bread, I have one person in mind that I would particularly appreciate being a part of that process. My brother has been an immense help to me and I know he particularly enjoys this tradition.”

Caleb nods, “Of course, of course. I think that I would like to ask Veth. She has been by my side for years and is my closest friend.”

Essek nods, he has an idea for the third person and judging by the look on Caleb’s face he has similar thoughts, “Jester?”

He laughs and nods, “Jester indeed.”

They ask their family and are met with whole hearted agreement. Technically the betrothed aren’t supposed to be there but Caleb wasn’t about to miss the chaos. Verin was guiding Veth and Jester through the kneading and they didn’t take long to begin discussing decorations. They decided on a pair of birds for the couple with a bird surrounding them for each of their friends and family, wheat for prosperity, braided strands of dough to represent the joining of lives, different varieties of flowers native to Xhorhas sculpted for long lives, good health, and strong commitment to another. Verin taught them the traditional songs as they worked and soon before long the three of them sang together, Jester inserting profanities whenever she forgot the words.

Seeing them work was complete chaos but soon the couple was shooed out as they got around to sculpting decorations, “Brother you know this must be a surprise. We have to stick to our roots just a little.”

“Yeah plus we need to gossip about you with Verin and learn all of your secrets Essek.” Jester drawls teasingly.

They leave and go about other preparations. Yasha and Beau are arranging flowers outdoors and for awhile they chat idly while following Yasha’s instincts. Beau and Caleb head inside to get some receptacles for the ever growing pile of stems and leaves accumulating on the table on which they worked. “Do you love him?”

Yasha stared intently from her position beside him at the table, having paused in her work. She’s never been talkative but he believes they understand each other, “Yes. I love him.”

“Good. I just wanted to see you say it for myself. The two of you remind me of something I once had. A beautiful moment in a very bleak past.I was lucky enough to find it a second time, and I pray that you never have to search for this again. I hope that your happiness transcends seasons and years and spreads farther than the horizon.”

She’s soft spoken, but he can tell she means it, “Thank you Yasha, I appreciate that very much.”

She smiles, and her eyes light up as her wife and his betrothed return. They talk and laugh through the day, finishing the decorations for the following day’s ceremony.

----

The day of, Essek can hardly contain himself. It’s unbearable that they have to go through the whole day before they can finally relax and just be married already. He’s had his own suit and robe custom made, Caleb hasn’t seen it yet and as he lays it out on the bed. Caleb is getting ready at the Xhorhaus which the Nein keep for emergencies such as this and is undoubtedly surrounded by the Nein fussing over him far more than he’d like. Their abode is quiet, Verin is getting ready in the guest room and is likely much less tense than Essek finds himself. He prepares in silence, going over his vows and wondering what Caleb will wear. He himself has a clean black suit, embroidered on the lapels in the same style as his preferred cloak. The cut is slim and it fits perfectly. The shirt is a deep plum and he has a silken black tie and pointed, shined black shoes. He wears the stole of his Den, his mother’s only request, and begins to properly prepare himself. He adorns his features in black and silver makeup, elongating the eye and adding a little drama. This ritual always calms Essek and today is no exception.

He’s taken his time getting ready and as he fastens his earrings in place, he’s alerted to a presence at his home. As he’s about to move to get the door, Verin calls out that he is taking care of it. Not long after, there’s a knock at his door, “Essek, it’s Veth. I know it’s getting close but may I speak with you?”

Veth. The one it’d been hardest to get to come around. Eventually she seemed to have let go but she still made Essek quite nervous. Far more so than even Beau, “Yes of course, come in.”

He turns to face her, she’s in a beautiful pink dress, makeup done and hair braided elaborately and adorned with flowers. “You look lovely, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“You don’t have to be so formal with me. I just wanted to, I don’t know, speak with you briefly.” He gestures for her to sit in the twin chairs by the window, normally reserved for him and Caleb.

As they sit he folds his hands, trying to hide his fidgeting, “What is on your mind?”

“Well, I know this is a bit of a cliche, and the others have probably already talked with you but I feel I have to say it myself. It took me a long time to trust you, after what you did to my husband and then when we found out about the war crimes, I honestly wanted to be rid of you.

“I promise it gets better, just hear me out. I’ve been through a lot with Caleb. I’ve been by his side for some of his biggest moment and he’s been with me through some of the hardest times of my life. Our bond is forged by fire and nothing will break it. I care about him more than I can describe, he’s my boy and I am his protector.

“You have proven yourself to be worthy of him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, I’ve heard his stories about you, about your life and what you are building together. I don’t know that I entirely understand, but you make him happy in a very profound way and that’s all I want. You two fucking nerds are clearly very much in love and anything that can make two people so happy must be good. It’s what we fought together for, so that these moments would continue, and for as long as you make Caleb happy I will be thankful for your presence in our lives.”

There’s a long pause as Essek collects his thoughts, “Veth Brenatto I thank you immensely. There is not much more I can say but please know that this is not something that comes easily or lightly to me. I am making a commitment and I keep my promises.”

“I know. But now you’re not only promising to him, you’re promising to me. You’d better make good on that promise or I swear I will make your life a living hell and you know I can.”

“Like I said, I never break my promises. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”

She laughs, “Oh no, you’re weaker than Fjord it would take me about a day.”

He smiles back at her, “People will be arriving soon, I’d prefer to continue alone if you don’t mind. Please, feel free to stay and wait if you’d like.” She nods and exits the room and he turns back to the mirror and makes a few final touches before heading down to nervously await Caleb.

-----

The ceremony begins, Caduceus stands at the head of the aisle, the Nein and their loved ones are seated, and music from the hired bards begins to soar over the yard. His mother is at the very back, she will be first to see him and likely first to leave as well.

He tries to stop thinking about her and keeps his eyes on the ground. They promised not to look until they were to begin walking and it was taking all his discipline to keep his eyes trained on the grass. It’s dark in Xhorhas but the flower fixtures and garlands are accentuated by globules of light, he’d allowed Jester to place them to create the best atmosphere. She took great care and her sensibilities had always been spot on.

The song changed and finally, Essek could look up. Just seeing Caleb he felt tears stinging at his eyes. Clean shaven, auburn hair braided back with carefully placed flowers accentuating his bright eyes, lit up with wonder and excitement. He’s wearing a traditional wizard’s robe, it looks like he went to the same tailor who did his own embroidery. The robe is a bright white and adorned with gold thread, intricate designs spiraling across the edges. It’s slightly parted in the front to reveal a well fitting black suit, deep red tie, and a flower with a small white ribbon tied to it fastened to his lapel. As they walked towards each other, joined hands, and stepped together to the altar, Essek couldn’t take his eyes away. Approaching Caduceus they dropped each other’s hands and stood on either side of the Firbolg as he touched their shoulders, initiating the ceremony, and began to speak.

“Hey everybody, we are here today to join these two wizards in marriage. Never in my life have I met two people more in need of love and more transformed by it. I don’t want to prolong this more than necessary, before me are two people who are so in love they’re letting us see it plainly on their faces and I think making them wait would be grossly unfair. So Caleb, your vows?”

Caleb unfolded a small piece of paper from a pocket, “I have a near perfect memory but, I want to get this right,” he mutters, he looks at Essek like he’s worried the bubble will burst at any moment and continues a little louder, “Essek Thelyss, you and I we have been through a great many things. We have stared armageddon in the face and we have walked out hand in hand. Through any trial, through any day good or bad, I know that if you stand at my side we can, together, face anything that comes our way. I look forward to the rest of this day and the rest of the days to come and I know there is no place I would rather be than at your side through battle, study, hell or high water. I love you, Essek Thelyss and I will never tire of telling you.”

All Essek can do is watch, he doesn’t fidget, he nearly forgets to breathe as Caleb’s words wash over him and he smiles. He hardly even cares how he looks to those in attendance, for once he can’t mitigate the lopsided grin that comes naturally to him and though he hasn’t cried in years he is having trouble holding tears in now.

As Caleb finishes and Caduceus gestures to him he begins to speak, “Caleb Widogast, this kind of thing does not come easy to me. I am not used to speaking directly and for a long time I couched my feelings in metaphor praying you would understand without my full commital to how I felt about you. Now I can plainly say that I love you, I have loved you for a long time. You have fundamentally changed me as a person, you’ve helped me understand a great many things and I am better now than I have ever been because of you. Through you I learned friendship, patience, happiness, and love. You and your friends well, I don’t know that I can explain the effect you’ve had on me but I am freer now than I have ever been. To you I promise my unending support, my aid in anything you should ask, a partner in your pursuits, and your life. Come what may, I will always love you.”

A few tears had escaped and Caleb’s eyes glistened back at him. They both looked to Caduceus who looked truly proud as he looked back and forth between them, he posed a few questions standard in both the empire and in the dynasty and at the end he declared, “This union is not the ending of two separate lives, but the joining and creation of one life shared by two. I know I speak for everyone when I say, finally, I pronounce you wed.”

A warm breeze blew through the yard, carrying the sweet scent of flowers and tousling Essek’s hair, and as Caduceus’ hands left their shoulders Essek wrapped his arms across Caleb’s shoulders as his husband pulled him in by the waist and their lips locked in a kiss. Jester broke the silence, cheering loudly as their friends and family joined in, the Nein far rowdier than the rest who clapped politely. They shakily added rings they’d picked out weeks ago, matching and complimentary to their previously decided on jewelry.

As they pulled back, Essek looked at Caleb who had tears running down his face and Essek swept them away as Caleb leaned up to kiss his forehead. Their family began to gather around and offer congratulations but Essek’s eyes couldn’t leave Calebs as the human cradled his face and whispered a simple, “I love you.” and Essek returned, having practiced the phrasing and pronunciation meticulously to get it right, “Ich liebe dich.” Caleb smiled and kissed him chastely again, before they opened up to their friends and began the nights’ festivities.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Pt. 5

Hey guys, it's been really busy for me at university so I have no idea when I'll have free time to write this month. Chapter 5 is actually still unfinished, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging, so here's the first half of chapter 5.

In Which: Another deal is struck upon the ice

AO3 | Prologue | 4 | [ 5 ] | 6

THE PIT SINGS. A low, groaning thing. Muffled like how sounds distort underwater. It reminded Danny of the sounds of Jupiter he would listen to when he really needed to study; the sounds heavily mixed to be more ambient yet still echoing traces of the original, haunting melody of the universe.

The Pit calls for him. No, not the pit—the ectoplasm in the pit is what calls him. Pulls the waves toward him as if he were the moon, bright and full, whispering with garbled voices hello-hello-hello. His core whispers back the same words every time he is near it. Hello-hello-hello. The Pit lingers in the back of his mind and sings in familiar words he does not understand.

Talia calls it a fascination. Ra’s calls it a connection.

A visceral link. Like calls to like. Strange ectoplasmic middle fingers to the laws of the universe—to the great equalizer that is death.

(Danny thinks Ra’s is wrong. Not completely wrong, but not right either.)

When his ghost form is no longer trying to cannibalize his human self, Talia dials up his training. Before, she was merely an observer. Now, she fights him in the ring, teaching him how to dodge with bruised ribs and broken bones. Brutally correcting his stances with harsh jabs and quick strikes. Sweeps him off the floor with a twist of her leg when he forgets how to use his feet. Each day left him with such bone-deep fatigue that mor more once he fell asleep during his sixty minutes in front of the monitor.

They know, now, that the Pit has no adverse effect on him. That he can use the pit more than once.

Bruises and fractures, cuts and scrapes; injuries mean nothing when a dip in green waters will wash everything away.

Even the possibility of insanity starts to feel far-fetched.

Danny should hate this. He should really hate this.

He loved it.

Phantom had always been a fighter. A protector. An underdog matched up against bigger and stronger foes but always somehow coming up on top. He was popular. Liked by the citizens of Amity Park despite his dumpster fire of a reputation near the beginning. Somehow in the year and a half since Phantom’s conception, he went from town menace to this larger-than-life figure. (Ha!) The hero of Amity Park with all of the expectations and responsibilities that came with it.

But Danny—plain, ol’ Danny Fenton—wasn’t any of that. Wasn’t allowed to be any of that. Because Danny Fenton was a wimpy kid who tripped over air and regularly got shoved inside lockers. He was the ghost hunters’ son who was deathly afraid of the paranormal. A C-average student in a family of geniuses.

A persona unwillingly crafted and carefully maintained, because at least this way no one other than Jazz or Wes will be able to connect Fenton to Phantom. Who would believe it?

But here, in Nanda Parbat, he was neither Fenton nor Phantom— he was something more. He had no secret identity to keep from the people who have vigorously researched him. He had no need to hold back.

Here, Danny was free to be Danny.

“Daniel.”

Even if he was called by the wrong-right name.*

Danny floated up from the pit, his transformation seamless as he stepped onto the edge on quiet feet. Tahlia threw him a knapsack. “Ready yourself, we have places to be.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I get my sixty-minutes after the Pit, remember?”

“I did not forget.” She smiled, resting her hand on her hip. “I simply thought that by beloved child might relish a change in scenery.”

Danny perked up, hands tightening around the straps of the knapsack. “We’re going outside?” Tahlia nodded. “Like—outside-outside. With the sky and trees and—and the stars?”

Amusement softened her sharp features, jade eyes sparkling with mirth. “The very same. Though the place we are going to is quite fickle in nature, and I am unsure if we will get another chance to go. But if you really insist on it then—”

“Wait!” He snapped his mouth shut, clutching the bag closer to his chest.

(Family, his core whispered. Family-safe-safe-protect-need-see-confirm-family-home)

The sixty minutes he gets to see his family was…precious. One of the few times the restlessness in his core would draw back; melt away like frost in the spring, leaving some sense of contentment behind. It was his refuge. Sanctuary. Physical proof that what he was doing here—(staying away-away-why-go back-back-return-home-family-home-protect)—meant something.

But.

Outside.

The Pit might have increased his training regiment, but it also allowed him to leave (escorted) the walls of his rooms. And this—

Danny could go outside.

He could go outside.

If he didn’t accept this now, then who knows when the opportunity would arise again? His family wouldn’t mind, right? Jazz did say something about how spending time outdoors is good for one’s health.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. “My…my family will be alright, yes?”

Tahlia cocked her head. “Why wouldn’t they be? You have done nothing wrong that goes against our agreement, and you have progressed wonderfully in your training. I am quite proud.” At Danny’s disquieted expression, she sighed. She raised her hand. “I swear on the blood of the demon—on our blood—that I will honor our agreement and do no harm to the Fentons and your friends during our trip.”

She lowered her hand. “Are you satisfied, habeebi?”

Reluctantly, Danny nods. An agreement from Tahlia is probably the best he could do at this point. “How much time do I have to prepare?” “Everything you will need is in that back. Though, it might do you good to dress very warmly.”

----------

Danny’s first breath of fresh air was biting. It filled the lungs crisp and clean, chilled him to the bones though he could feel no cold. Each warm exhale expressed itself in swirling mists, disappearing into the slate gray clouds above. A facsimile of his own ghost sense.

Fenton did not think much of breathing; Phantom did not need it.

Danny had never realized how wonderous it was to breathe.

“We head northeast,” Tahlia called out. Like him, she is bundled in thick black layers with long leather gauntlets strapped at the end of the sleeves. Her bag secured tightly, and a sword strapped to her back. Her long black hair is bound in a tight braid beneath her fur-lined hood.

The path is covered with snow, deep enough that his first few steps past Nanda Parbat’s gates sinks his leg midway up his calf with a loud crunch. It was hardly as deep as some parts in the Far Frozen, but over there Danny had the choice to simple float over. Tahlia trudged through the snow with a preternatural grace. The path ahead was marked only by the faint traces of footprints almost—but not quite—covered with fresh snow.

Among the many things the League had taught him, this was one: the devil is in the details.

They speak little on their trek. Not that Danny particularly minds, absorbed that he was with world around him. Nanda Parbat, he learned, was built high in the mountains. Cocooned from the rest of the world by the snow-capped mountain ranges that surrounded it. A fortress of wood and stone that seemed distinct yet so carefully hidden. The high walls protected the buildings within from view. Its roofs—elongated and curved—and tall towers modelled after east Asian architecture. Though which country, Danny does not know.

Their destination—past a large protrusion of stone that covered the fortress from view once crossed—was a lake. Frozen a pale blue with ice, surrounded by more mountain walls and the opening of a cave off to the side.

Perplexed, he said “What, are we gonna go ice fishing? Just so you kno, I’m not that big of a fan. The last time I went with my dad I was nearly eaten by a sea monster.”

“We should have enough food for this exercise, Daniel. And you need have no fear of sea monsters, this lake is devoid of any such creatures.” Once they reached the mouth of the cave, she unstrapped her bag, setting it against the stone wall. Danny mimicked the motion. “We are here to train.”

“With…?”

She gestures to the katana strapped to his back.

“With swords.”

A nod.

“On the ice?”

She smiled, leading him to the edge of the frozen lake. “It has become something of a family tradition of the al Ghuls, to cross blades upon the ice.” She plants a steady foot on the lake, walking towards the center with long strides.

Danny followed behind her with some trepidation. He wouldn’t die from frostbite, he was sure, and if he fell he could always fly himself out. But that didn’t stop him from flinching at the rumbling sounds the ice made beneath his feet.

“My father trained both your father and I on this lake.” Tahlia unsheathed her sword as she took her place across from Danny. “And as your father no doubt trained Damian on his own lake, I have the pleasure of training you.” She slipped into a stance. “On your mark.”

Danny slipped into his own stance, feet apart, both hands on the hilt. Then, something nudged at the back of his mind. “Who’s Damian?”

Tahlia tilted her blade, the polished sword gleaming and sharp. “Your brother. Now—begin!”

“Wait, wha—” Danny barely managed to parry the blow.

Sparks flew as blades crossed and Danny twisted off to the side.

He slipped. Head meeting the ice, the deep crackling sound of the lake making him tense.

Tahlia points the tip of her blade against his chest. A single elegant brow arched high in dissatisfaction. Danny glared at her, brushing the fringes of his hair away from his face. “To be fair, you shouldn’t say stuff like that right before a fight. You caught me off guard.”

“If you find yourself in a fair fight, you have failed to prepare enough.” She sheathed her sword before extending an arm to help Danny to his feet. “The goal of a fight is to end it—no matter the cost. Now, take you place.”

Danny picked up his sword, then, hesitates. He looked up at Tahlia. “Did you mean what you said?” Do I have a brother?

Tahlia smiled, drawing her blade once more. “Impress me and you’ll find out.”

Danny narrowed his eyes.

“Now—”

He adjusted his stance. You’re on.

“Begin!”

Danny lunged.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (6)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + maybe jealous!kook 👀

words: 3.2k

     chapter six

You stayed in the whole day on Sunday – which was nothing new since you had three classes to prepare for on Monday, not to mention a possible encounter with Jungkook to brace yourself for – so, going out the next morning, even if it was 8:30 AM, felt surprisingly refreshing. After not talking to anyone besides your roommate the whole day yesterday, it felt unexpectedly nice to make some small-talk with other people.

You got coffee at the local coffee shop before heading to your first class and were surprised to feel your stomach fill with disappointment when the class started and Jungkook didn’t show up. Although, truth be told, you weren’t sure if he was even taking this class at all. Knowing his weekend habits, taking a 9 AM class on a Monday morning seemed like a sure-fire plan for failing. And, honestly, you shouldn’t have cared about his whereabouts anyway. But you did as you found yourself looking for him in every class you went to that day, nearly forgetting your plans to meet up with Namjoon in the afternoon.

You ended up not seeing Jungkook today, after all – good! – and you returned to your dorm, feeling somehow let down – bad! – and annoyed. Grateful for the plans you’d made with Namjoon, you mentally cursed yourself for getting attached to people so easily, and headed to the kitchen for a quick snack before you prepared the work space.

You had already cleared your desk, found the movie you’d promised to show Namjoon, and even started to read one of the books for the project, when your phone buzzed. 

Thinking it was your partner for Sociology letting you know he was on his way over, you were in no hurry to pull back from the chapter you’d just started. But as soon as you teared your eyes away from the book and checked the screen of your phone, a bolt of electricity struck you.

It was Jungkook calling you.

You figured that the two of you must have had a similar thought process because you’d wanted to call him as well, but – contrary to him, by the looks of it – you ended up choosing to stay away. All of your restraint would have backfired if you’d seen him in class today – you were sure of it – but you chose not to dwell on that right now. You focused on your success instead; you’d avoided him for almost two days now – what’s another two years, right?

However, as you stared at his name on the screen of your phone, you really wanted to answer the call. You wanted to hear his voice.

And yet, you could already imagine the conversation you were going to have.

Apologizing wasn’t something that was difficult for you. You could have easily told him that you’d overreacted when you’d last seen him. But an apology would have brought closure, and closure would bring another attempt at a friendship that would eventually end – just like it did before.

The end seemed inevitable. You’d be heartbroken for another seven years – okay, maybe not heartbroken, but it would definitely sting for many more years to come, just as it had before – while he’d be fine, playing shows with his best friends and getting drunk every weekend.

So, choosing to suffer and not give in to your impulses – because it was supposed to save you a lot of pain in the long run – you did not pick up his call. Just a few days of talking to him had already messed you up enough, who knew how strong of a hold he’d establish on you if you allowed him into your life again? You had to learn from your past mistakes and stop putting him first.

The call ended almost as soon as you decided not to answer and you felt yourself release a shaky breath that you’d been holding as your phone vibrated restlessly.

You’d persevered this time. Maybe you’d manage to keep this up all the way to graduation – “Do you still plan everything out in advance?” Jungkook’s voice asked in your head, – but, just in case you couldn’t, you turned the vibration on your phone off and placed it—screen-down—on your desk.

Several minutes later, Namjoon finally arrived with a tentative knock on the door of your room – he wasn’t sure if he got the number right – and the two of you immediately got to work, setting a plan for your project and looking through the books you’d picked up at the library a few days ago.

“We have far too many articles we can use as references,” Namjoon said, thirty minutes into your work session. He had glasses on but he’s been looking down at the desk for so long, they had slipped to the very tip of his nose. “Maybe we should focus on the newest ones?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting fidgety after sitting still for so long. “Not going to lie, though, this topic is starting to seem less and less interesting with every new monograph I open.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said with a sigh as he brought his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to take a break? We got through four books already, that’s progress.”

You leaned back in your chair, relieved to hear this suggestion and Namjoon laughed, understanding your answer without hearing you say it.

“We could, uh, watch the movie now if you’d like,” you said then. “Hopefully it’ll inspire us to keep working.”

He doubted a horror movie could inspire you to keep reading the unnecessarily complicated books about the connection between humans, but he’d been looking forward to watching it and, therefore, could not say no. Not to mention, you looked too tired to keep working and he felt bad.

“Alright, sure,” he said, “it’ll be a good distraction. It’s been a long day today anyway.”

“It really has,” you agreed and turned your laptop to face yourself, “I’ll set it up and—”

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly, sitting up straight and startling you. “I was going to bring popcorn! I forgot. I came here right from my last class.”

The thought was really sweet – because you didn’t ask him to bring anything – and it got you to smile.

“That’s okay,” you said and then remembered, “actually, there’s a convenience store across the street, I could go get it.”

“I’ll do it,” Namjoon said, his determination bringing him out of his chair and into your hallway before you could react. “I’m the guest here, after all! And I shamelessly came without anything.”

He was now calling out to you from the other room as he put his shoes on, so you stood up and walked to the threshold of the bedroom.

“Well, to be fair, as the host, I should have been the one to provide the popcorn,” you pointed out but Namjoon was already halfway out the door.

He chuckled at this, fixing his glasses again as he grabbed his backpack, double-checking if the wallet was there.

“It looks like we’re both still learning the proper etiquette,” he said with a good-natured smile. “I’ll get the popcorn. You set up the movie.”

He assigned jobs for you and himself again – it was something he seemed to do a lot as you’d noticed in class – but you found that you didn’t mind his bossy nature. It was nice to be around someone who knew what had to be done and didn’t waste any time with the pleasantries, telling the people around him what they had to do point-blank.

“Yes, sir,” you said and Namjoon considered apologizing for ordering you around but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, he saw a humorous smile on your lips.

With a small--relieved--chuckle, he nodded one last time and promised to be right back before exiting your dorm and walking down the hall for the elevator.

Left alone, you automatically reached for your phone and only remembered why you’d placed it screen-down when you saw the three missed calls from Jungkook. Apparently, he’d called you twice more after you didn’t pick up.

Inhaling sharply you—pointlessly—tried to convince yourself that your heart had started to beat faster because it was just bored after having been still for so long – yeah, right – and not because Jungkook was fighting for this harder than you’d expected him to.

Then, suddenly, there came a knock on your door.

Confused, you put your phone down and headed back into the hallway of your dorm. If Namjoon forgot something, he could have just entered since the door was unlocked anyway, but he must have been too well-mannered to enter someone else’s house without an invitation—

It wasn’t Namjoon.

“Hi,” Jungkook said when you opened the door. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he lowered his eyes as soon as he saw your face, but not soon enough. You still caught the sight of a bloody gnash running down his left cheekbone.

“Jungkook—what—” you started to say but then ended up stumbling over your own thoughts as you weren’t sure what to ask him first – why he was here, or why he was bleeding. “What happened?”

“Hmm?” he appeared to have been expecting a different question. “Oh—nothing.”

It was clearly not nothing as the boy in front of you purposefully turned his whole body so he could hide the injured part of his face without raising any suspicions – which rose all the suspicions as he stood with his body unnaturally twisted towards the wall next to your door.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked, even though the answer was loud and obvious, and literally right there on his face.

“No—well, yeah, but it’s not serious,” he said, refusing to look at you still. He didn’t come here to stare at the floor but he – like a dense idiot that he sometimes was – did not expect you to ask him about the wound. “It’s just—I wasn’t in the mood and someone provoked me. It’s stupid.”

Stupid or not, he got hurt again even before his injuries from the drunken car accident had time to heal. You craved to know the reasons why he kept putting himself into these sort of situations but you weren’t going to ask; you couldn’t – not after your last conversation.

“You’re bleeding,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I know. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. Finally, you asked him the one question he’d prepared himself for.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook raised his eyes to yours and explained very simply, “you didn’t answer my call.”

He said it as if the line of actions leading up from you, not answering his call, to him, showing up on your doorstep, was straight, natural, and absolutely understandable.

You didn’t know what to say to that – it was a comment about as obvious as the “you’re bleeding” one that you’d made just a second ago – but since you were exchanging observations instead of offering explanations, you leaned against the door-frame with your shoulder and crossed your arms over your chest, ready to keep going.

“Right,” you said. “You weren’t in class today.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded and, finally, provided an explanation – however poor it was – for (some of) his actions, “I wasn’t—I didn’t feel like coming.”

You weren’t in a position to question him about this further. And even if you were, he probably wouldn’t have answered you anyway – his defensive stance made that very clear.

“I see,” you said. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said again – it was the only word he seemed to have no problems with – and then added after a moment’s hesitation, “I know it’s not a good enough reason but—”

You cut him off, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought he flinched as he watched your eyes for a lingering moment and then took half a step back. “No, I’m just—”

“Like you said,” you reminded him then, your crossed arms suddenly threatening, “it’s none of my business.”

Jungkook swallowed, his jaw clenched. “”I’m—uh, about what I said… I—”

“Jungkook,” you said and the sound of his name coming from your lips – even under such uncomfortable circumstances – sounded pleasant to his ears. “You… you probably shouldn’t have come.”

You were pushing him away. For the first time in your life, you were standing up to him and Jungkook – with a bruised sense of self-worth and a chest that throbbed with pain much worse than the wound on his cheek – couldn’t help but feel a little scared. You weren’t relenting to him. You weren’t letting him have his way.

Seven years have ensured you learned from your past mistakes.

And that was why Jungkook did not—could not—walk away from your door. He had to prove himself to you now – he’s never had to do that to anyone who wasn’t his father before. And in this particular moment, proving his worth to his father seemed much easier than proving it to you.

“I know that,” he said, now wary that the damage he’d done to your friendship may have been irreversible. “I just didn’t like the way our last conversation ended. I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

You sighed. “I—no, look. It was me who started it. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that so out of the blue.”

“No, don’t. You had every right to do that. It was—”

“Jungkook,” you said again and if you weren’t going to stop saying his name, he felt like he might have to get his hands out of his pockets and touch you because this was starting to become a torture. “Even though we could have been more mature and just talked about it, you were right when you said that it wasn’t my business to worry about you. It really isn’t.”

He swallowed, a sparkle of fire flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s—”

“No,” you cut him off one last time because you knew something was going to stop you from doing it again: either you wouldn’t manage to open your mouth or he’d throw you against the wall to stop you from talking in some different way because, God knew, Jungkook sure looked like he was seconds away from doing just that. “It’s probably not a good idea for us to—”

“Oh,” a surprised gasp was suddenly heard down the hall. Automatically, both of you turned your heads to look.

Namjoon was coming out of the elevator a few feet down, several bags of popcorn kernels in his hands. He looked confused and even a little embarrassed to have spoken aloud, but his flustered state did not come close to match yours.

“Namjoon,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Namjoon?” Jungkook repeated through clenched teeth, his eyes focused on the unfamiliar guy in front of him. He’d never seen him before but Namjoon had no trouble recognizing the vocalist of Parental Advisory glaring at him.

All of a sudden, Jungkook had switched from agitation and turned to pure irritation – how dare this other guy interrupt you two? – that was quickly replaced by fury – how dare this other guy be your acquaintance that was, obviously, on his way to your dorm? – and you felt the need to do some damage control.

You swore you felt less uncomfortable on the very first date you’d ever gone to – the guy tried to kiss you and bumped his forehead into yours so hard, you thought he gave you both concussions – and, up until this moment, that has been one of the few memories that still made you cringe to this day. This was going to beat it for sure, though.

As you watched Namjoon and Jungkook eye each other warily – and, in Namjoon’s case, awkwardly because he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d just walked into – you wished the earth would swallow you whole because you didn’t know what to say to them – you weren’t dating either of them, so what was there to say, really? – let alone what to do now.

Slamming the door and barricading yourself inside of your room started to seem appealing.

“We’re doing a project together,” you ended up saying, your eyes on Jungkook, even though, objectively, you knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

And yet, as Jungkook refused to look away from Namjoon, you began to fear that getting into two fights in the span of a few hours, wouldn’t be something that Jungkook was above of. And Namjoon – who was, honestly, just an outsider caught in the middle of something you couldn’t understand yourself – didn’t deserve to get punched simply for getting the popcorn too quickly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon spoke. He felt like he had to say something – you’d have disagreed, convinced that the wrong word from him could have provoked Jungkook to act irrationally – because, reading your body language, he could tell that you were having a conflict with yourself. “We have a project due—”

“You were right,” Jungkook suddenly turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and fierce. You swallowed but didn’t get to say anything back because he added, “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You—”

If his words didn’t shut you up, then the fact that, as soon as he said them, he turned around on his heels and walked right past Namjoon and towards the staircase certainly did.

Blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure – although, maybe you should have been grateful that he left instead of starting a fist-fight – you glanced at Namjoon who was clumsily making his way towards you.

“I feel like I’ve made the situation a lot worse by opening my mouth,” he said timidly, “or, actually, maybe I made it worse when I got off the elevator. I’m sorry.”

“It’s—no,” you shook your head, moving to a side so he could come in. “It was already bad before you got here.”

Namjoon hesitated outside of your door, not daring to enter. “Are you and him—?”

“No,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the word that was coming. “We just—we have some unresolved issues, clearly, but we’re—we’re not—”

“I really am sorry if I interrupted,” he said, noticing how much you struggled with the word-that-must-not-be-said.

“It’s okay,” you told him with what you thought was a small smile – but, really, your lips just barely twitched – and Namjoon finally – albeit uncertainly – entered your room. “There wasn’t anything to interrupt. He was about to leave anyway.”

But even though you’d said this, Namjoon wasn’t entirely convinced and apologized several more times throughout the movie. You kept telling him that it was fine – because it really was – but, about thirty minutes into Hereditary, you were no longer really listening to what he was saying, and it wasn’t because you were too into the movie.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he walked away. It was the same look as the one you’d seen right before he drunkenly climbed behind the wheel of a car that night at the party.

keep reading | masterlist

[weil-weil-lautre]

By Jonathan Franzen September 8, 2019

“There is infinite hope,” Kafka tells us, “only not for us.” This is a fittingly mystical epigram from a writer whose characters strive for ostensibly reachable goals and, tragically or amusingly, never manage to get any closer to them. But it seems to me, in our rapidly darkening world, that the converse of Kafka’s quip is equally true: There is no hope, except for us.

I’m talking, of course, about climate change. The struggle to rein in global carbon emissions and keep the planet from melting down has the feel of Kafka’s fiction. The goal has been clear for thirty years, and despite earnest efforts we’ve made essentially no progress toward reaching it. Today, the scientific evidence verges on irrefutable. If you’re younger than sixty, you have a good chance of witnessing the radical destabilization of life on earth—massive crop failures, apocalyptic fires, imploding economies, epic flooding, hundreds of millions of refugees fleeing regions made uninhabitable by extreme heat or permanent drought. If you’re under thirty, you’re all but guaranteed to witness it.

If you care about the planet, and about the people and animals who live on it, there are two ways to think about this. You can keep on hoping that catastrophe is preventable, and feel ever more frustrated or enraged by the world’s inaction. Or you can accept that disaster is coming, and begin to rethink what it means to have hope.

Even at this late date, expressions of unrealistic hope continue to abound. Hardly a day seems to pass without my reading that it’s time to “roll up our sleeves” and “save the planet”; that the problem of climate change can be “solved” if we summon the collective will. Although this message was probably still true in 1988, when the science became fully clear, we’ve emitted as much atmospheric carbon in the past thirty years as we did in the previous two centuries of industrialization. The facts have changed, but somehow the message stays the same.

Psychologically, this denial makes sense. Despite the outrageous fact that I’ll soon be dead forever, I live in the present, not the future. Given a choice between an alarming abstraction (death) and the reassuring evidence of my senses (breakfast!), my mind prefers to focus on the latter. The planet, too, is still marvelously intact, still basically normal—seasons changing, another election year coming, new comedies on Netflix—and its impending collapse is even harder to wrap my mind around than death. Other kinds of apocalypse, whether religious or thermonuclear or asteroidal, at least have the binary neatness of dying: one moment the world is there, the next moment it’s gone forever. Climate apocalypse, by contrast, is messy. It will take the form of increasingly severe crises compounding chaotically until civilization begins to fray. Things will get very bad, but maybe not too soon, and maybe not for everyone. Maybe not for me.

Some of the denial, however, is more willful. The evil of the Republican Party’s position on climate science is well known, but denial is entrenched in progressive politics, too, or at least in its rhetoric. The Green New Deal, the blueprint for some of the most substantial proposals put forth on the issue, is still framed as our last chance to avert catastrophe and save the planet, by way of gargantuan renewable-energy projects. Many of the groups that support those proposals deploy the language of “stopping” climate change, or imply that there’s still time to prevent it. Unlike the political right, the left prides itself on listening to climate scientists, who do indeed allow that catastrophe is theoretically avertable. But not everyone seems to be listening carefully. The stress falls on the word theoretically.

Our atmosphere and oceans can absorb only so much heat before climate change, intensified by various feedback loops, spins completely out of control. Some scientists and policymakers fear that we’re in danger of passing this point of no return if the global mean temperature rises by more than two degrees Celsius (maybe more, but also maybe less). The I.P.C.C.—the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change—tells us that, to limit the rise to less than two degrees, we not only need to reverse the trend of the past three decades. We need to approach zero net emissions, globally, in the next three decades.

This is, to say the least, a tall order. It also assumes that you trust the I.P.C.C.’s calculations. New research, described last month in Scientific American, demonstrates that climate scientists, far from exaggerating the threat of climate change, have underestimated its pace and severity. To project the rise in the global mean temperature, scientists rely on complicated atmospheric modelling. They take a host of variables and run them through supercomputers to generate, say, ten thousand different simulations for the coming century, in order to make a “best” prediction of the rise in temperature. When a scientist predicts a rise of two degrees Celsius, she’s merely naming a number about which she’s very confident: the rise will be at least two degrees. The rise might, in fact, be far higher.

As a non-scientist, I do my own kind of modelling. I run various future scenarios through my brain, apply the constraints of human psychology and political reality, take note of the relentless rise in global energy consumption (thus far, the carbon savings provided by renewable energy have been more than offset by consumer demand), and count the scenarios in which collective action averts catastrophe. The scenarios, which I draw from the prescriptions of policymakers and activists, share certain necessary conditions.

The first condition is that every one of the world’s major polluting countries institute draconian conservation measures, shut down much of its energy and transportation infrastructure, and completely retool its economy. According to a recent paper in Nature, the carbon emissions from existing global infrastructure, if operated through its normal lifetime, will exceed our entire emissions “allowance”—the further gigatons of carbon that can be released without crossing the threshold of catastrophe. (This estimate does not include the thousands of new energy and transportation projects already planned or under construction.) To stay within that allowance, a top-down intervention needs to happen not only in every country but throughout every country. Making New York City a green utopia will not avail if Texans keep pumping oil and driving pickup trucks.

The actions taken by these countries must also be the right ones. Vast sums of government money must be spent without wasting it and without lining the wrong pockets. Here it’s useful to recall the Kafkaesque joke of the European Union’s biofuel mandate, which served to accelerate the deforestation of Indonesia for palm-oil plantations, and the American subsidy of ethanol fuel, which turned out to benefit no one but corn farmers.

Finally, overwhelming numbers of human beings, including millions of government-hating Americans, need to accept high taxes and severe curtailment of their familiar life styles without revolting. They must accept the reality of climate change and have faith in the extreme measures taken to combat it. They can’t dismiss news they dislike as fake. They have to set aside nationalism and class and racial resentments. They have to make sacrifices for distant threatened nations and distant future generations. They have to be permanently terrified by hotter summers and more frequent natural disasters, rather than just getting used to them. Every day, instead of thinking about breakfast, they have to think about death.

Call me a pessimist or call me a humanist, but I don’t see human nature fundamentally changing anytime soon. I can run ten thousand scenarios through my model, and in not one of them do I see the two-degree target being met.

To judge from recent opinion polls, which show that a majority of Americans (many of them Republican) are pessimistic about the planet’s future, and from the success of a book like David Wallace-Wells’s harrowing “The Uninhabitable Earth,” which was released this year, I’m not alone in having reached this conclusion. But there continues to be a reluctance to broadcast it. Some climate activists argue that if we publicly admit that the problem can’t be solved, it will discourage people from taking any ameliorative action at all. This seems to me not only a patronizing calculation but an ineffectual one, given how little progress we have to show for it to date. The activists who make it remind me of the religious leaders who fear that, without the promise of eternal salvation, people won’t bother to behave well. In my experience, nonbelievers are no less loving of their neighbors than believers. And so I wonder what might happen if, instead of denying reality, we told ourselves the truth.

First of all, even if we can no longer hope to be saved from two degrees of warming, there’s still a strong practical and ethical case for reducing carbon emissions. In the long run, it probably makes no difference how badly we overshoot two degrees; once the point of no return is passed, the world will become self-transforming. In the shorter term, however, half measures are better than no measures. Halfway cutting our emissions would make the immediate effects of warming somewhat less severe, and it would somewhat postpone the point of no return. The most terrifying thing about climate change is the speed at which it’s advancing, the almost monthly shattering of temperature records. If collective action resulted in just one fewer devastating hurricane, just a few extra years of relative stability, it would be a goal worth pursuing.

[baby-witch-eli]

Quantifying my Craft

I found this lovely post by @breelandwalker, who I totally recommend checking out, and it inspired me. My cards and horoscopes have been pushing me to reflect on my goals lately so this is exactly what I needed right now! I decided I'd give it a go.

Broad Concepts

I like to follow western traditions; Celtic traditions in particular are near and dear to my heart. This is why I chose to focus my worship in the Celtic Pantheon, and I'm currently working on building a relationship with Brigid. I would consider myself an eclectic, although divination and nature magic are my two main areas of focus. While I like to ask others for advice while I learn, magic is something I prefer to practice on my own. I've only been practicing since late January, interestingly enough I started around Imbolc. So far I've found intentions are the most important aspect of witchcraft and it has helped me greatly to practice intention in all aspects of my life.

Working Space

I began constructing an altar to Brigid yesterday. Frustratingly enough, my mother is going to have me put away all my small little items and decorations tomorrow as we're trying to sell our house. We won't be moving for a few more months though. I'm hoping I'll be able to keep the altar up but I'll look into online altar options if needed. I already keep an online altar to myself on an app called #SelfCare that I would highly recommended.

Right now my altar to Brigid has a white candle in a green holder; a sailor's knot I wore around my wrist until it started to come undone; a silver bell for music and creativity; the first piece of pottery I ever painted; a picture book of the traveling I did around Michigan a few years ago; an empty journal I hope to fill with art and poems dedicated to her; and a beaker (cauldron stand-in) I dedicated by burning a sigil in that holds nineteen white rose petals and a whisker my cat lost. I'm charging a carnelian and working on a piece of fox, the spirit guide she sent me, embroidery to add to the altar. It's positioned on top of an organizer I have on my desk, which is pushed up against a window.

There's a spot under my porch I wanted to use for meditation but I discovered I'm too jumpy and distractible to meditate outdoors. I don't like having my eyes closed when out of the open and I have an exaggerated startle response. Instead, I find it better for me to meditate in the bath. Sitting in water at least ankle deep with the lights off, after everybody else has gone to sleep and when the moon can shine through the window, is the ideal place for me to sit and follow a guided meditation. I find meditations that take me on a journey through my astral space are the most effective.

Ideally, I'd like to be able to have my own space where I can freely spread my altars and workspaces throughout the house. I want to be able to fill it with plants and books and cards and candles. While I'm at home trying to avoid suspicion from my Christian family, I just have to make the most of what I have.

Tools

My first deck is on the #SelfCare app. I call it my "Familiar Deck" as that's the one I'm most connected with. It's brutally honest, which I love. My second favorite deck is the "blue-eyed" deck I use for my Daily Draw. Another brutally honest deck and one I find to be very accurate. When asking Brigid questions, I prefer to use the Yes/No deck. It gives you your answer and is also good at accurately conveying "secondary," not yes/no, messages. You'll notice all of them are online and that's because, once again, I live with my Christian family and must be covert.

I have a quite a few crystals as I, thankfully, was interested in collecting them when I was younger. The tumbled crystals I have are small and few; most of my crystals are raw. I keep forgetting to charge them when there's a full moon out. I'll have to set a reminder or something to that effect. At the very least, I'm happy that I don't have to bother with trying to obtain any without my parents becoming suspicious. One of these days, I'd love to start collecting rings and wear several. It's also silly little dream of mine to get an onyx pendulum someday.

As far as books go, I bought a beautiful journal I've dedicated as my grimoire. It's dark blue with shiny, gold space decals. I would love to collect witchy books but I don't have money and I couldn't get away with it while living at home. I hear there's an excellent discord that stores witchy books and I think it's something I'll look into. For now, my information comes from my internet research. Thankfully, I did debate for several years, so I know how to find sources from accurate cites, but it certainly takes a lot of work to find good information that way.

The Year

I’m interested in learning more about the Wheel of the Year and incorporating it into my practice. Imbolc is especially important to me, as I worship the goddess Brighid. I missed it this year but I hope to celebrate it in the future. I have yet to study the important of dates outside of astrology so I’ll have to make sure I study it more.

History of My Magic

Honestly, I’ve always felt a very strong pull towards magic. I was raised in a very religious family though so I was always afraid that answering the call would condemn me. I grew up reading as many fantasy stories as I could, connecting with any animal I was able to, and spending as much time in the woods or by water as I could. The woods and the water have always felt full of magic to me and inspired me to want to practice witchcraft. Ever since I was little, I’ve had a great fondness and affection for the moon and stars. I’ve also always felt very drawn to Celtic folklore, magic, and Irish culture. I have distant family ties to Ireland and even though it’s a relatively minor aspect of my heritage, it’s always felt the most important to me. Movies like Song of the Sea and Brendan and the Secret of Kells helped tighten my bond with it. I even started learning as much as I could about the Fae after some books I read piqued my interest. I’ve always been the kid who kept a firm belief in magic even after all my friends “outgrew” it.

It took me a long time to finally answer the call to magic. Like I said, I was raised in a religious household. My grandparents even accused me of being a witch when I went through my Harry Potter phase! It actually made me rather pleased. There were a few times I came very close to beginning practicing witchcraft but I shied away for fear of Hell. It wasn’t until I finally was able to distance myself from the church earlier this year that I decided to start practicing magic behind my parents’ back. I’m very glad I did.

Progress

I’ve only been practicing for a few months. I’ve been very busy with college so it’s been pretty lax so far. I’m trying to build some sort of consistency. The end of the semester is a bad time for that, for sure. I’ve really connected with astrology and tarot-reading. Learning about the symbolism of different bugs and animals has also been something I’ve honestly also done, so it’s nice to be able to incorporate that into my practice. Dragonflies have always been signs of good luck for me (or bad omens, as the one time I saw one dead was one my Grammy found in her garage; she showed it to me a month or so before she passed away from cancer).

Recently, I began meditation. I met my spirit animal, a brown-eyed fox, who I ended up learning was sent by the goddess Brighid to guide me. I contacted Brighid about twice and set up an altar for her. The first time I heard her speak to me was when she was telling me I don’t drink enough water (I haven’t met with her since I pulled an all-nighter for college and I’m sure she’s not particularly pleased with that). I’m hoping to get back into my meditative practice soon. I’ve also needed to meditate to ask about a crow or raven that my sister and I kept crossing paths with while going out to lunch together. I’m not sure if it’s a sign of something or if the Morrigan wants to contact me. I’ve also heard the name Cernunnos repeated in my head lately so I’ve wanted to look into him too. I didn’t think I’d have anything to do with deities after my experiences with Christianity but Brighid quickly changed my mind.

Final Notes

I actually started writing this post a week or so ago but life got crazy. I’m in the last few weeks of my Freshman year of college, so it’s hectic. Right now I’m staying at a cabin in the mountains over the weekend, so I’m hoping this will give me the chance I need to wind down and reconnect with Brighid and my higher self. I’m hoping to get a daily routine going for my practice over the next few weeks.

[umbry-fic]

A Palette Full of You (1)

Summary: Glimpses into Colette and Lloyd's lives as they grow up together, learn who they are, and fall in love with each other.

(Written for Colloyd Week 2021)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel, Anna Irving, Kratos Aurion Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Chapter: 1 of 6 Word Count: 6218 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 09/06/2021

Chapter Title: Castle Invaders!!

Chapter Summary: Colette and Lloyd enjoy a sunny day at the beach as children. A sandcastle is made, but does it continue to stand for long?

(Colloyd Week Day 1: Childhood Friends)

Notes: 1st chapter of my multi-chapter Colloyd week 2021 fic, featuring my headcanon of asexual Colette. It's also a modern AU set in Singapore.

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8-years-old

"Lloyd! The water's here!" Colette called out, setting down the heavy bucket filled with water next to Lloyd. Mission accomplished, and without a single hitch! Mostly. She wasn't going to mention how she nearly spilt all of the water when another girl's arm missed her by a hair's width. Or how her heart was still pounding from the close call. "We can get started with the sandcastle now." Lloyd was so occupied pushing sand into one giant pile that he hadn't even noticed her approach.

Having finally gotten his attention, Lloyd stared at her blankly for a few seconds before seeming to come to his senses. Scrambling to his feet, he began to shovel the pile of sand into the bucket. Overhead, a seagull's cry rent the air, barely audible over the screaming of all the children and adults on the beach that was packed to the brim, the two vastly different in tone. "Thanks, Colette! We might need another bucket of water, though. I don't think this is enough."

"Oh, I can -"

"Nah, I'll get the next one. It would only be fair!" Lloyd grinned a toothy smile at her, prominently displaying the gap from the baby tooth that had merrily vacated his mouth last week. She herself currently had a loose tooth that she absent-mindedly pushed at with her tongue, until she pushed too hard and caused a slight stab of pain. It would likely fall out soon.

"Come on, then! This sandcastle won't build itself alone!" Lloyd said, grabbing her hand with his, rough with the individual granules of sand sticking to it.

Colette giggled and joined him, attempting to lift some of the wet sand from the bucket to start making the base of their castle - only to find that the sand seemed to have solidified into one giant clump that refused to budge from its snug home. Every attempt to separate a tiny handful yielded a sucking sound that seemed to make the sand stick together even more, ever more determined to stay with their granular siblings. With a final huff, she put all her strength behind her arms - only to flop back down onto the beach with nothing in her hands.

"That's - hard!" Lloyd grunted, faced with a similar predicament and having no choice but to give up. The sand would remain in the bucket for the foreseeable future, it seemed. He wiped his hands on his red swimming trunks before offering it to Colette, helping her back up.

"Didn't think the sand would stick together this much," Colette muttered. This was why her father had advised them not to use a bucket, huh? She stole a glance towards the collection of colourful beach umbrellas that was close by, where their parents were taking shelter from the sun. They were sitting on the same striped picnic blanket where breakfast had occurred earlier, having a relaxed conversation over cans of lemonade while keeping a watchful eye on the two of them. Noishe was there too, taking a morning nap by the blanket.

Spotting Colette, her father waved cheerily, before taking another chug from his can.

She and Lloyd had been so excited to finally visit the beach during the March Holidays. They'd been jumping up and down on the car seats, sticking their noses into the window, and chattering non-stop on the journey here, giving Noishe, curled up on Lloyd's lap, no peace to sleep in. Her father, who had been sitting with them in the backseat, had just watched with an exasperated smile, having given up on asking them to calm down when his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

The two of them would finally get to see the breathtaking ocean they had witnessed multiple times when watching The Little Mermaid, their favourite movie to watch together. Lloyd loved the vibrant ocean and the possibility of an entire unexplored world full of magic under the waves. She liked the colours and the cute designs, and the absolutely beautiful story of true love overcoming all. They’d watched it one time too many, until Flounder and Sebastian easily visited her in her dreams.

Aunt Anna had made clear upon their arrival her two conditions for letting them in the ocean. Firstly, that an adult had to accompany them at all times. Understandable, given the terrifying power of the ocean with its roiling waves, that had only been impressed on her upon actually seeing it with her own eyes. Secondly, and expectedly, that they had to wait an hour after breakfast, the familiar argument of "You have to digest all those cheese sandwiches!" leaving Aunt Anna's mouth.

They might as well make the most of the one hour, so Colette had suggested building a sandcastle to pass the time. It was one of the activities that she thought was a must-do for a first-time beach trip. After all, where else were they going to find all the sand they needed?

Lloyd had happily agreed. She was glad to see him finally perk up after wilting a little at the reminder that he needed to wait - days were much better when they were both smiling, and it wouldn't do for Lloyd to spend his first time at the beach with a frown on his face. So they'd dug up the shovels and the buckets from the car's trunk and set out to make the best sandcastle ever, one that reached the sky! They weren't going to let their lack of experience hinder them!

Perhaps that goal was a tad too ambitious. But that sure wouldn't stop her from trying!

Having made zero progress in getting the sand out of the bucket, Lloyd resorted to upending the bucket and slamming on the bottom with his hands until the sand all came out in a single bucket-shaped mound. Colette spared a worried glance at the plastic bucket, which had let out a groan. She had no clue how sturdy it was. Hopefully, it wouldn't break.

"Come on, Colette, let's do this!"

"Yeah!"

Lloyd knelt to start tamping the sand into shape, and Colette joined him.

"Could you pass the shovel?"

"We're out of water again!"

"How about we try doing this?"

Those were the only words that left their mouths as they worked together, their hands brushing. There was also the occasional peal of laughter that slipped out of either of them at something funny the other had done. Otherwise, they were in perfect sync, without the need to talk. They could just adapt to the other's actions. She remained focussed on her task, tuning out the sounds of life around her and getting her hands covered in sand, until there was even sand under her nails.

The sun continued to get higher on its arc, its rays falling on all the bare skin revealed by her navy blue one-piece swimsuit. It felt like she was roasting alive. Sweat ran down the sides of her face and her throat was dry. A can of cold lemonade sounded really nice now. She was glad, at least, that their parents had insisted they put on sunscreen, and had helped slather the two of them in it from head to toe, Lloyd squirming the whole time. If not for that, she would surely have an excruciating sunburn by now. From what she'd seen of her classmates who had returned from last year's March Holidays with red and peeling skin, she was glad to avoid it.

They made steady progress, bar the few close calls where she nearly flung the shovel into the sandcastle. It slowly took shape with a few more water-gathering trips and repeats of the not very effective bucket-slamming tactic, until finally, it was complete. Even the bucket had survived all the abuse! Colette sat back on her haunches to observe their handiwork, a smile lighting up her face.

Their masterpiece.

Okay, it wasn't a masterpiece. It was nowhere near perfect, or even amazing.

A messy tower stood before her eyes, tapering from a wide base to a thin top. It was tiny at thirty centimetres high. From the middle onwards, the tower slanted to the side, a result of Lloyd pushing just a bit too hard. It resembled the Leaning Tower of Pizza now, but, just like that mysterious tower, their tower was still standing through some unknown magic. Using a random stick he’d picked up off the sand, Lloyd had etched a smiley face with wobbly lines into the side of the tower. He'd stuck the stick into the top to act as a flag, exclaiming that the Disney castle had a flag on top of the main building, so theirs would too! She'd also dug a trench, in which Lloyd had poured the extra seawater remaining in the bucket to create a moat. Now no villain could mount a successful attack on their castle! Not even the Goombas or turtles they stomped every weekend in Super Mario Brothers.

The moat had dried up in seconds as the surrounding sand had absorbed the water, but it was the effort that counted. And it looked cool for a while!

Their castle was pretty average compared to the other ones she could see on the beach, and most definitely was nothing compared to the grand, detailed designs she had seen that one time on TV. But she had fun building it, and it was something she'd made together with Lloyd, so it was worth being proud over. That was all that mattered.

It was nice to imagine their castle standing here for all eternity, even if she knew it wouldn't last once they left. She and Lloyd's castle, powerful and durable, even against the worst of enemies!

"Looks good!" A hand landed on her head, prompting Colette to look up and see Aunt Anna waving a polaroid camera around. She could see her reflection, wide-eyed and smiling, in the sunglasses resting on the bridge of Aunt Anna’s nose. Aunt Anna must really love that pair of sunglasses; she always wore them whenever she was driving her and Lloyd to school in the mornings. To protect her eyes from the sun, and to look stylish while doing so? Who knew.

Aunt Anna had put on a giant sunhat, the brim so wide that it cast a shadow over Colette's face. "Come on, let me take a picture of you two with the sandcastle!" Aunt Anna said, raising the polaroid camera to her eye and miming clicking the button.

After a bunch of poking and prodding from Aunt Anna to get them into the best position, with loud protests from Lloyd’s end, they were finally ready to have their photo taken. For the sandcastle to actually show up in the picture, they had to stand behind it. Lloyd looped his arm around her shoulder, while she gave Lloyd bunny ears with her fingers. She would never give up the opportunity to do so. "Say cheese!" Aunt Anna yelled, raising the polaroid camera with a massive smile and clicking the button, the camera emitting a flash of light that blinded Colette for an instant.

"Can I move now, Mom? And can we finally go swimming? Pleaseeeeee?" Lloyd whined, plopping back down onto the sand before he even received his answer. Colette blinked rapidly, still trying to get rid of the spots in her vision.

"Oh, the pictures are gonna turn out sooooo cute," Aunt Anna muttered, retrieving the printed-out polaroid from the camera and beginning to shake it, waiting for it to develop. She glanced at Lloyd, sulking in the sand, and gave him the thumbs-up. Lloyd perked up immediately and scrambled to his feet to run off, only to stop in his tracks after hearing Aunt Anna's next words. "Wait a moment, would you? Your father is gonna follow you and he's still coming over."

"Dad! Hurry up!" Lloyd yelled, impatiently hopping from one leg to the other as Uncle Kratos leisurely walked over. Noishe, having finally caught up on his beauty sleep, ran over too, barking in excitement. Colette giggled, crouching down and reaching her hand out for Noishe to bump his snout against with every round he made around Lloyd's legs. Would Noishe be joining them in the ocean? It was against the rules to bring dogs into the swimming pool, but there was no such rule here. Maybe Noishe secretly liked water! There was no better chance to find out!

And the more the merrier!

"No going further than the bobbing spheres, okay? And stay close to your father!"

"I know, Mom! I know! You told me this three times already!"

"Just checking," Anna replied cheerfully, ruffling Lloyd's hair and prompting a scowl to pop onto Lloyd’s face.

"You got it too, right?" Her father asked her, having come up behind her.

"Yes, Dad!" Colette replied, getting to her feet and preparing to run down to the ocean. "I promise I'll -"

Unfortunately, Colette didn’t get to finish her sentence. One small step forward and her foot caught instantly against the spare shovel still sticking up in the sand, which had completely escaped her notice. Everyone, even Noishe, stopped what they were doing. All three adults stretched out their arms in a desperate attempt to stop her fall, but they were too far away to have any hope of catching her. Flailing her arms, she fell, the world seeming to go by in slow motion as the tower of golden sand became increasingly larger in her vision.

Until she crashed right through the tower she and Lloyd had spent the last hour crafting, in her unstoppable path to face-planting on the beach. Her hand felt the roughness of tightly-packed sand as that sand exploded in every direction. Closing her eyes against the rain of sand, she threw her arms out to cushion her fall, finally landing on the sand.

The action now over, Colette pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing. No visible wounds anywhere. No blood. No lasting pain. At least the sand was somewhat soft.

Oh no… Heart sinking in her chest, she stared at the mess that had once been a glorious sandcastle, now just a sad misshapen mound of sand. The top of the tower had been scattered everywhere.

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, an awkward silence arising even as noise continued to surround them. She'd ruined everything with her clumsiness again... She wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to hide out here in the open. Maybe she could dig a hole in the sand and hide forever...

"Colette! Are you alright?" Lloyd’s voice broke the silence, a helping hand offered to her as he stared down in concern.

"Yeah." She took his hand, using her other to try brushing off the grains of sand now sticking to her whole body. There was so much... She'd never get all of it off. She opened her mouth, ready to apologise.

“Come on, there’s no time!” Lloyd interrupted before she could even say anything, tugging on her hand as he had done before. She was being pulled in the direction of the waves, stumbling a little in surprise at the sudden movement. “Our castle was attacked by enemies, and they’ve fled to the water! We need to pursue them! Right?”

Lloyd winked at her, a huge grin on his face. She could read the message in his actions loud and clear: there was no need to apologise. Just get back to the fun!

“Right!” She replied, wiping the hesitance from her expression and replacing it with a smile, worries already forgotten. The ocean would be one solution to all the sand stuck to her skin!

“Race you!” Lloyd yelled, letting go of her hand and abruptly taking off. She cried out indignantly in response, chasing after him as fast as she could, Noishe following hot on their heels with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, ears flapping up and down. Their yells about being first to get in the ocean reached Kratos’ ears, who simply sighed at their familiar antics.

~~~

“Here,” Lloyd said, pressing something small into her palm. He and Colette were both drenched from head to toe from all the swimming and water wars that had occurred. The tips of her hair brushed her shoulders, leaving tiny trails of water behind and causing water droplets to slide down her arms. Not even Noishe had been spared, shaking his matted fur furiously. The water had been colder than she'd expected, but all the running around had helped to combat it. In fact, she was exhausted from all the activity, the smile on her face so wide her cheeks hurt and her throat hoarse from all the screaming and laughter.

Now that they were on dry ground again, they were standing by the picnic blanket, waiting for their parents to return with towels. Whereafter their parents would hold the familiar ritual of smothering them with towels, squeezing each strand of hair dry.

In her hand was a seashell, rough against her skin - not the stereotypical blue ones that were always on the pages of the Chinese textbook whenever the ocean was mentioned, with its fan shape and equally-spaced out ridges - but rather an off-white colour, fantastically curved with little spikes sticking out of it to form a geometric pattern. It had a gaping opening that revealed its pink insides.

“Dad said it's called a conch shell,” Lloyd explained. “Snails hide in them, but this one is empty. I found it just now!”

“Oh, it’s so pretty! I haven’t been able to find any...” She’d been scouring the beach to no success. The most she’d spotted among the sand were tiny fragments of what had once been seashells, smashed to smithereens by the wrath of the ocean.

“Put it against your ear! I tried it, and it really works!”

“The sound of the ocean...?”

Colette lifted the conch shell, aligning the hole with her ear and closing her eyes to listen closely, covering her other ear with her hand. She and Lloyd had read about this many times before - how a shell contained the entire ocean within it.

And it did. It was a strange, mysterious sound - like there was water within the small shell lapping against its walls, somehow, even though that wasn’t the case, for any water would have leaked out of the opening by now. It was almost like she herself was surrounded by the ocean, as the shell in her hand must have been as it was carried by the currents to stop on this beach. What a lonely journey that must have been, alone in the deep darkness.

She opened her eyes to see Lloyd’s smiling face, his hand gently pulling hers away from her ears.

“Did you hear it?”

“Yeah. That was incredible...”

“Well, the shell is for you.” Lloyd gestured, grinning.

“Oh, really?” She gasped. “No, you found it, so it should be yours!”

Colette tried to pass it back to Lloyd, but he refused. He only closed her fingers around the shell with his hand before hopping just out of arm's reach. Infuriating.

“Nah, it’s fine! Keep it! I insist!”

Colette pouted, knowing Lloyd wouldn’t budge on the issue. There were times she wished he wasn’t so stubborn. There was no way she was going to win this.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you one in return… I can try and find one now!” she suggested, already scanning the beach as she took a step forward.

“No need for that!” Lloyd reassured her, returning to her side and grabbing her arm to stop her. “Mom said we aren’t staying here for much longer after we’re done cleaning up. You can just make it up to me some other time.”

“Alright! That’s a promise, then. Thank you for the gift,” Colette said, feeling the ridges of the seashell dig into her skin as she tightened her hold. They had gifted each other little trinkets like these many times before, mostly curious objects they came across whenever they played at the playground. She kept every single gift from Lloyd, just as she would this one. Anything she got from her best friend was precious.

Colette could see the adults walking over in the corner of her vision, holding the aforementioned towels and… Popsicles! Oh, those would be delicious. But it also meant her time at the beach was coming to a close.

Colette knew she wouldn’t ever forget this day. This sunny day, filled with joy, fun and wonder…

~~~

28-years-old

"Remember this one?" Lloyd laughed, pointing to the open scrapbook sitting in his lap. His finger sat on a polaroid that was held in place on the page by 4 pieces of cellophane tape, one of which was crooked, and another of which was starting to peel. Colette tapped her finger on the yellowing polaroid as well, recalling how she had gotten it from Aunt Anna and proceeded to stick it in her sketchbook. Words filled the rest of the page, denoting the events of the day, together with a doodle of a seagull sitting on a giant seashell. If she recalled correctly, this was one of the last pages of her scrapbook before she'd gotten too busy to keep it up. It was fun while it lasted, though, absolutely cramming the border of each page with a horrendous amount of washi tape.

She and Lloyd's happy faces peered up at her from the polaroid, a tiny, not very impressive sandcastle visible in front of them. The weather on that day, a foggy memory but not forgotten, for it could never be truly forgotten, couldn't be any more of a contrast to the rain currently slapping against the windows of their apartment, turning the world outside into pure white as the rain obscured all. The wind howled and caused the window panes to rattle in their housings. The air was chilly, fogging up the windows and further blocking their view of the world outside.

Colette should have been shivering on the bed in her denim shorts, but she was nice and toasty instead, legs covered by a thick blanket. She was resting against the backboard, legs stretched out, hair falling to mid-back in messy tangles. The blanket itself had the sewn pattern of dogs doing various things: jumping over fences, dozing off on clouds, running with bones in their mouths. It was adorable! And most of all, it reminded her of another dog who used to run circles around her feet and snuggle on the blankets with her, but who was no longer with them.

She’d even gone the extra mile and put on socks and a hoodie. Lloyd had taken one look at her and… hadn’t done anything else, because this was normal behaviour from her when she was cold. He’d long since accepted it.

Plus, she was leaning against the ultimate source of warmth! Lloyd, who was also under the blanket, legs pressed snugly against hers. Just as always, he could somehow survive the cold in just jeans and an old T-shirt, showing absolutely no signs of being affected. No shivers, nothing. It was impressive. He took "warm-blooded" to the next level.

Her entire body still felt tingly from the cups of hot coffee that Lloyd had brewed in the kitchen earlier. He’d done hers perfectly without even having to ask, the knowledge of how to do so having long been ingrained in his memory. “Precisely half a teaspoon of sugar and half a cup of milk,” he’d said in a sing-song manner, the warm orange of the kitchen’s ceiling light falling upon him and his gentle smile as she’d stood next to him cutting apples. The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the cutting board, the clinking of the metal spoon against the side of the porcelain cup, and the thudding of raindrops against the window had been the only sounds filling the kitchen.

They’d drunk the coffee first, backs against the countertop and their eyes meeting across the rims of their cups, his hand finding hers in the little space between them. The hot liquid had slid down their throats with ease, settling warm in their bellies. Having drunk his coffee all at one go as he always did, Lloyd had waited for her to finish. He hadn’t said a single word, preferring to maintain the comfortable silence. The only thing he’d done was rub her fingers with his thumb.

They’d then taken turns popping the apple slices in each other’s mouths, the flesh crunchy when they sank their teeth into it, the sweet juice from the fresh fruit a refreshing contrast from the bitter liquid they’d just consumed. Lloyd, as messy an eater as always, had left little bits of apple at the corner of his mouth like tiny yellow spots that she’d had to brush away with her fingers.

Today was Sunday, the day where they both didn't have work to do, unless they were handling some big project with a pending deadline, and had some time to themselves. Their favourite activities to do on this wonderful day of the week included marathoning Disney movies, playing video games together, and going out to their favourite destinations. They also weren't opposed to just lounging on bed together, or taking some alone time.

But today was also a rainy day. She'd actually been woken up by the first claps of thunder in the early morning. The rain had no business being this heavy after the conclusion of the monsoon season, but Mother Nature was fickle, and they could do nothing but accept their given lot. No going out to the Botanic Gardens as they'd originally planned. The only thing they could do was stay home, unless they wanted to catch a cold on purpose.

It was Lloyd who had found her old scrapbook in a corner of their room while aimlessly wandering around the apartment, the book having gathered a thin layer of dust that made her sneeze when he brought it over. She'd forgotten it was sitting on one of the shelves. He had suggested looking over it, since they had nothing better to do. They had just gone through Frozen, Tangled and The Little Mermaid last week - the plots were still fresh in their minds. More fresh than usual. She could recite the entire script of The Little Mermaid from memory if she needed to.

What better time was there to reminisce than with their second anniversary coming up? What better place to do so than in the bedroom they shared, its corners teeming with keepsakes and memories, absolutely overflowing with their love for each other? Just being in here for a minute was enough to make her heart feel warm.

The framed pictures hanging on the walls and sitting on the nightstand - of them and their parents; of the two of them under a sky full of stars; of them and their friends, laughing and popping bottles of wine, fitted in elegant dresses and stylish suits. There were many more pictures, kept in the various albums lining the bookshelf above the bed, which she occasionally took down to look through on days when she was feeling rather nostalgic. Staring up at her from the pages were contented faces from all throughout time, allowing her to track her progress from days long past to the person she was today.

The Siberian Husky plushie she was currently hugging to her chest. The soft fur felt incredible to the touch, and it was so comforting to just run her hands through the fur, tightening her fingers on tufts of it. Behind those beady black eyes were more, however, a significance that no one else but herself could see. A precious memory of a carnival and the time they were finally honest with each other; a step she had been terrified to take but which she’d mustered up the courage to, in order to join Lloyd at the other end of the open door and grab the encouraging hand he offered her. She had stumbled many times along the way, but Lloyd had steadied her every time. She’d gambled on the chance, but it had all been worth it - for she had managed to find her home in Lloyd, and it had all led to the beautiful life she led today, where she got to see his happiness every day.

The wall painted over with galaxies, swirls of pinks and purples and blues, and a single adorable dog in a spacesuit, which they had hand-painted when they first moved in until they were both splattered with paint and giggling.

And of course, the two matching, nondescript metal bands, one lying atop the other on the nightstand.

"You destroyed the sandcastle not soon after, right?" Lloyd said.

"Hey!" Colette pouted, poking Lloyd's side. "Don't tease me."

Lloyd shifted his body away from her attacking finger, still smiling warmly. "I'm not teasing you. I'm just stating what happened." He turned around and retaliated by poking her on the nose, sending her reeling back in a fit of giggles. "It was fun, though!"

"It was," she agreed, struggling to hold back further laughter, bubbling up within her chest like an uncontrollable fountain. “You gifted me a conch shell afterwards. Remember?”

“Of course I remember, silly. It’s sitting on your shelf right now.”

That it was. She’d kept it all these years, the passage of time causing its colour to fade. In all other aspects, it was perfectly conserved, looking just the same as it had on the day he’d pressed it into her hand. She lifted it up to her ear sometimes, just to listen to the sound of the ocean.

Colette flipped to the next page of the scrapbook, looking over all of the memories contained there. Her childhood had been filled with joy, in no small part due to Lloyd, who took every opportunity he could to make her days fun-filled and exciting as he strived to make her face light up with a smile. There were moments where she was suddenly overwhelmed with a great sense of gratefulness for the fact that, out of an infinite number of possible outcomes, she had met Lloyd when she was young. For she was so incredibly fortunate, more fortunate than most, to have met someone who loved and accepted her for everything that she was.

She placed one hand on his cheek, fingers splayed, and turned his head to face her, his warmth spreading through her cold fingers from that one point of contact. Lloyd leaned automatically into her touch.

“Colette...?” Lloyd whispered, leaning automatically into her touch. His eyes searched hers, as he slowly came to understand what she was about to do. This close, she could make out each individual eyelash, attached to the eyelids that fluttered closed over russet eyes. Most people would conclude Lloyd was plain. Average, even. There’d been people who asked her upfront why she’d chosen to settle for him, when according to their honest opinion, her beauty could have landed her much better. They didn’t understand. She was the one fortunate enough to know his love and the miracle of such an incredible person staying by her side when there were so many things she couldn’t give him. A relationship with any other person would have been easier for him, filled with far less of a need for compromise, but he’d chosen her in the end.

Besides, there was beauty in plainness. The daisies that were ignored in favour of the orchids, the mynahs that were overlooked for the orioles. There was beauty to be found there, in the most ordinary of things, the ones people saw every day and had ceased to notice. It was a beauty she itched to capture.

Lloyd, to her, was the most beautiful of them all, a rare treasure that had somehow landed in her hands.

“Shh,” she whispered in return, eyes fluttering shut as she closed the small distance between them. She pressed her lips against his slowly, trying to push behind this one action - the gift she was currently giving - every ounce of the love and appreciation she felt at the moment, enough to fill her heart to the brim. It’d been a while since she’d done this. Two months, maybe? It was a little overdue, having slipped her mind for a time as it always did, no matter how hard she tried to remember. If not for the reminder that had pinged on her phone this morning and made the issue fresh in her mind again, she might have gone another month. She’d have to give him more soon, as per her end of the compromise they had both agreed upon when they’d first started dating, which had served them well all these years. He'd said before that he was alright with getting nothing at all, but that didn't sit right with her. She didn't think it would be fair for him to be the only person giving something up.

Kisses and anything further were always up to her to initiate, since Lloyd, as he’d told her time and time again, wanted her to be comfortable in everything she did. He’d never forced anything on her, content to wait patiently for her to feel ready, whether it be in an hour, a day, a year, or never, perfectly willing to compose their entire relationship on quiet moments spent together and nothing more. She still occasionally struggled with the idea that he was far more than she could ever deserve, even as he gripped her hand tightly and told her she was worth everything. It was getting better with every day she spent in his loving company, the extensive wounds left on her heart in her younger days by a world that told her she would never be enough slowly starting to heal. There would always be scars, but those would fade one day until they were barely visible, until the twinges of pain could barely be felt.

Lloyd’s lips were a little chapped from the cold, unmoving against hers, still tasting faintly of the sweet apple slices from thirty minutes ago. All in all, a pleasant experience.

After a second of shocked stillness, Lloyd came to life again, a small sigh leaving his lips and brushing against hers. His hand came up to cup her ear, his fingers curling in her hair as he kissed her back with nothing but gentleness, always mindful of her boundaries and never pushing her any further. Of course, he had boundaries too. If he’d decided to pull back, she would have respected it. It was the bare minimum she could do for him.

Thirty seconds passed and she pulled away, though not too far, opening her eyes to stare into his. Their hands remained where they were, connecting the two of them.

“Where did that come from?” His words became butterflies, brushing their soft wings against her lips. He tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers stroking the skin above her ear with the tenderness he always showed her.

“I just felt like saying thank you.” For everything. For all their years together. For all the love he showed her. For the knowledge that Lloyd would continue to stay in her life, for the rest of her time on this wondrous Earth.

Not that long ago, she would have broken away and covered her face with the plushie that was still in her arms, cheeks flushed and too embarrassed to meet Lloyd’s eyes, preferring that he talk to the plushie instead of her. Much like the first kiss, unconventional as it was, that they had shared. Now she could stare unflinchingly with confidence to witness the happiness that bloomed like the most incredible flower on his face.

“Thank you. For the gift,” Lloyd replied, always seconds away from showing his appreciation.

“Shall we look through the rest?” she asked, removing her hand from his cheek to cover the one he had placed on her face, her fingers slotting in perfectly between his as she smiled sweetly.

Here was her sanctuary, where all she knew was serenity and the warmth of loving and being loved.

“Let’s.”

~~~

“Mm.”

Lloyd froze in the middle of flipping to the next page of the scrapbook, watching Colette with eagle eyes. Had he…

But she didn't seem to have awakened. Not really. She made no other sound, only tightened the hold of her arms around his midriff, her face buried in his side and the rest of her lying on her side on the bed. He'd resorted to holding the scrapbook up in order not to accidentally jolt her out of her peaceful sleep. So far, his arms had not started to hurt yet.

Lloyd heaved a sigh of relief, tucking the entirety of the blanket tightly around her shoulders, leaving himself uncovered. Now, swaddled in the blanket, she resembled a cocoon. Adorable. And also what tended to happen each night, as she ended up stealing the blanket eight nights out of ten.

Satisfied that Colette was soundly asleep, Lloyd returned to perusing the contents of the scrapbook, a small smile playing on his lips.

And silence reigned supreme, interrupted only by quiet breathing and the crinkle of paper.

~~~

Next chapter

[ambrosialips]

I really should be sleeping right now. I've got a ton to do and I need to wake up early, and yet it's 3 am and I'm about to spill my thoughts and feelings in my notes like I'm running some famous self-care blog that focuses on my healing journey. If I'd do that, I wonder what other stuff I'd post? Maybe recipes, top 10 favourite Crystals?? Witchcraft 101 or just best artsupplies for a begginer, if that would even exist, I mean no matter the art supplies a begginer is still a begginer.

I think I'll write about letting go, about releasing people , relationships and parts of yourself that no longer serve you, looking at the strings attaching your heart space to those specific people or feelings, habits or cycles and deciding that you're better off without them, or that the time has come for the two of you to go your separate ways, for your lessons have your learned and journey together ended. Since a few weeks now, I started releasing people, friends I once knew and loved. I guess our journey together ended, or they managed to teach me the lessons that the universe was dying to teach me. It's quite funny actually, it all started with someone I once loved and held in my heart so dearly proving to be nothing than a false person...someone who wished me ill, or just hated me for no concrete reason. Tarot mentioned that they felt frustrated, envious, jealous because my growth has been paying off and I might have been doing better than them, so they lashed out and started sending me negativity. They weren't like that all the time, they never acted like that before, never insulted me for no reason, never tried to pick a fight with me for no reason, never acted negative, at least not in front of me or with me. I am proud of the way that I handled the situation though, I tried my best to stay calm and collected, stand my ground and tried to calmly talk to them. I did get annoyed at one point and made a snarky comment, but for the most part my growth was able to show. In the past I would have started yelling, insulting them back, being negative and hurt, while now, or at least a few weeks ago I tried my best to avoid conflict and be calm.

After the pointless "conflict" I was left hurt. Hurt and angry that someone that I cared for so much proved to be nothing other than guest at a masquarde ball who just so happened to drop their mask at the wrong time. I made sure to make my feelings clear to my friends. Where getting your feelings out is good, I could have been a bit more mature about it, but nonetheless that experience and those feelings have been processed and I wish them well. I wish them good luck on their evolution and love and light, because at the end of the day, we're all on different stages of healing , some more immature who still hold to negative feelings and unprocessed emotions and events, and others who learned to accept what happened and let go, releasing what no longer serves them in their life purpose and who let themselves process and feel their emotions, then release the negative ones as well, and others who are doing that right now(good luck to you guys , I know how hard that is). We can't hate the people on low vibrations for being low vibrational, all we can really do is wish them well and wish them low and wish them healing just like others did to us.

Soon after that, I started looking at my others friendships, even at my group of friends at the time, and slowly understood that the environment and people weren't the best for me. Maybe I've outgrown them, maybe I've healed enough to work on a higher vibrations, or maybe I was just blind to the red flags and didn't see how toxic some of the interactions were, but nonetheless I let them go, I released those relationships because they didn't serve me anymore and kept on wishing them love and light and healing, because all of them deserve to heal and be happy. After releasing them I was quite alone, not lonely though. I slowly started doing better, feeling better, getting into a better mindset. The alone time and release of negativity really helped me focus on myself and growing. Started releasing more toxic habits and mindsets, continued to release toxic and negative people from my life, learned to put boundaries and what I really want in a friendships. I recently found out the reality of 2 connections from my life, these people didn't drop their masks, let's just say that I found out who they were through a little bit of help, a mirror and some magic, and as much as it saddened me, I let them go, still wishing them love and light and happines and good luck in their evolution.

A lot of things happened in almost two months, guess that my full moon releasing really helped. With finding the truth about so many people and connections I've also understood something else that's quite important in my opinion. The idea of revenge. Looking back on how my younger self would have seeked it, wanting to let them know how it feels instead of being the more mature one, wishing them well and trusting the universe that they will get what they deserve kind of saddens me. Revenge feels like such a negative concept now, going your way to hurt somebody because they hurt you, trying to "make it even" instead of understanding the situation and trying to learn and grow from it seems pointless. Why burden yoruself with all that negativity that will only harm you more than try healing.

Over all, letting go and releasing can be a tough thing to do, but also a really important one. It's hard letting go of people that you love because you understood that they no longer had a place in your life, or that they were toxic or only using you for the things that you had to offer, like the best advice for every situation, yes that was a petty exemple from my personal life, finding out that hurt, but it's important to do it so you can progress , heal, get better and live a happier life instead if being stagnant, letting them bring you down or only holding to the connection until it becomes toxic or you have a horrid fallout. Releasing habits and toxic patterns feels even harder, because im order for you release them you have to firstly recognise them. Recognise that you're being toxic to other people or that some of the things you do are self destructive, but that you re too afraid of change to let them go, but yet again, letting them go makes so much room for healing and bettering yoruself and for a better life.

I've had people saying that they relate to these little vents and thoughts and feelings of mine, so for the people that are too afraid to release, or that are struggling to release people and habits and destructive behaviours and patterns, put yourself first. Put your well-being first. Put your happiness first. I know it's hard trust me I do, but what helps me the most is thinking about my goal , thinking about who I want to be, thinking about why I'm doing this. My goal is to heal, to heal my traumas , doesn't matter if it's generational or gained in this life. My goal is to fully love myself and to be happy. My goal is to become the best version of myself, my most authentic self and all I've been doing for the past one or two years is workings towards that. That meant losing people, gaining new ones, letting go of the ones that were negative and toxic and learning to also enjoy time by myself. It meant facing myself and admitting the fact that I couldn't live the way I was living anymore , that I couldn't feel depressed and just wonder if I'll leave until highschool. That meant starting to cry while facing the bathroom mirror because I complimented myself for the first time in years. That meant unlearning all the pain and hurt that others thought me, and teaching myself love and happiness and how to take care of myself.

If you have something to release, remember your goal. Put yourself first and send them love as you continue to grow and mature

[yukiwrites]

Magic, not Actually the Same

Thank you so much for the support and patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! Henry, please, don’t scare them too much!

Summary: There were many kinds of magic throughout the myriad of worlds out there. The graduates from the School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad, Lorenz, Annette, Mercedes and Constance still attended some of the mage classes in Askr, but after one particular class, they met Henry...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

The Order of Heroes was a place where many people of different backgrounds worked together towards a common goal -- it was their differences that allowed them to form bonds they'd never thought possible back in their original worlds.

Of course, that also meant that Heroes with similar experiences also converged together so as to share and gain new knowledge. There were three of such groups that stood out among the others: The Community of Hatchet-Operating Persons, also known as CHOP; the Hatchet Aspirational Committee of Knowledge, also known as HACK, and; the currently unnamed, self-proclaimed School of Magic that usually took place three times a week at the library.

Though it by no means held a professional curriculum, the School of Magic of Askr was invaluable to the young or aspiring mages due to the amount of older, more experienced mages willing to pass down their knowledge. That was to the point that some students, although already enrolled in another school back in their world after having graduated a known School of Sorcery, made it their routine to participate in these classes.

That was because there was a wide array of magic available in Askr that they had never seen before in their world: some exclusive or rare magic that they would never be able to see again were they to miss this opportunity. So even though they were summoned to Askr while still being students, the young mages who graduated from the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad took it upon themselves to absorb as much knowledge as they could during their stay.

“Annie, today’s teacher already left; don’t you think we should head back, too? Perhaps to drink a bit of tea with these new pastries?” Mercedes placed a knitted pouch on top of the large table, intent on alluring her best friend with the sweet scent.

… Well, some students took it more seriously than others.

“Mercie… Just a bit more, I just gotta memorize this formula here…” Annette grumbled under her breath, replying mostly out of habit than actually acknowledging her best friend beside her. Once the girl set her sights on a subject, it was hard to pull her out of it.

“I do agree with Mercedes, Annette.” Lorenz got up from his seat beside Annette as a flock of students followed Knoll around to ask questions pertaining to the class. “A tired mind will not make any more progress even if pushed to do so. A relaxing cup of tea with great company will do wonders to soothe your spirit, giving you better focus afterward.”

The young girl grimaced, then pouted. “Buuuut, I just can’t get it to get into my head! It’s ‘magic’, but it’s still so hard to use! What’s up with that?! I thought I’d be able to use a tome as long as I had magical energy, but this- this- huff!” She hit her feet under the table, more intent than ever to understand the puzzle right in front of her.

“Not to fret, little Annette! I, Constance von Nuvelle, will crack this mystery for all of us! There is no impossible magic for one such as I!” Constance got up from her seat with a proud huff -- her style of magic consisted more of experimenting with formulae rather than following their original path, so the power she wielded differed vastly from her peers.

It was because of that that not only Annette but also Mercedes looked up to Constance in a way that made the blonde tilt her nose upwards with inflated pride.

“Really? Will you help me with this, then? Look, I can’t make heads or tails of these-” Annette turned the large tome to Constance, pointing at whatever gibbering was written in the ancient askrian language.

With a glance, Constance was able to tell that she would take weeks to crack that. “W-well, perhaps doing so right away will spoil the fun, so why don’t you lend me this tome…”

“Ohhh, that’s a new kinda hex there!” A chirpy laugh sounded right over Constance’s shoulder, making her jump out of her own skin.

“W-who goes there! How dare you sneak up on a lady like this, young man!” She slapped her fan open as she took a step back, pointing to the white-haired, grinning lad that seemingly appeared in their midst as though through magic.

“Nyaha, you’re even louder than Maribelle! I bet you’d be good friends.” He sneered, then moved his gaze back to the tome on the table. “The name’s Henry! I never really came to these classes ‘cause they didn’t seem fun, but today’s teacher was a dark mage so I wanted to see what cool stuff he had to show us!”

“Hmm,” Lorenz crossed his arms, changing the weight of his body to one leg. “I did notice you simply staring at our teacher without taking any notes, ah, Henry.”

“Mhm! I mean, he didn’t say anything I didn’t know and boy, are the dark arts outdated wherever he came from! They’re still a taboo!” Henry let out a snort, running his thin fingers through the writings on the page. “This here, though? Fun! I’m gonna borrow it after you’re done, Annette, can I?” He raised one eyebrow questioningly, though from his tone of voice it felt either more like a demand or a really funny joke. It was hard to tell.

“Outdated? What’d you mean?” Annette’s eyes shone with the prospect of gaining more knowledge, especially from someone who could understand the strange language in that book.

“Welll,” Henry took his index to his lips as he looked up in thought, “I think not many people died from studying it yet, since he was so careful about telling everyone how dangerous it is and stuff! But it’s fun to research it, look!” He lifted his index overhead, mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath then pointed to the book in front of Annette.

A cold shiver went down their spines as a low, hellish whisper started to come from the very pages of the book.

“W-w-what-what’s going on? A g-ghost? What-” All color left Annette’s face as the voice within the book got louder, though the words were still incomprehensible.

B̵͍͕̹͍̜̭͚̺̪͝͝e̴̛͞҉̢̭͔̙̹̹͉̗̹̰̜̦̹̯̪̣̼̯ ̛̗͉͔̮̗̫̣̠̞͉̗̺͍̪̣̬̕͜͟c̸̰͍̞͞ú͏҉͉͙͕̙̠͇̣͉r̵̶̡̰̯̤̠̙̟̱͎̥̻̥̝͉͚͖͞͞ͅ ̼s̨̫͕̝̟̝̰̞̪̠̠̯͖͕̫̹̼͘e̷͎͓̣͇̤̪̼͞ḑ̶̰͇̰̼͠ ͍͓̝̫͈͈̻̙̟͇̤̫̟!̛́͟҉̼̗̱͖͇̤͞ ͕̲͓̯̗̼̩ ̢̛̞͍̬̱̫̹͎̰͓́̀ ͔̺̮̩̠ ̖̱͙Y̡҉̝͖͍͉͚̺͔̩̪̩̖̣͡ó̧̧̻̣̙͉͘͜ư̛̘̘͔̙̯̜͈̫̥͎̪̠̠̥ ̘̥ ̨̰̥̯͍̥̦̩̀͜͢ẁ͏̯͖̞̮̩͙̯̤̦͚̻͔̲̘̟ͅh̸̗̻̱̩̪̲̪̞̣̯̀͞ơ̶̲͕̘͎̘͕̕̕͠ ҉̵̡̮̗̫̯̤̣͕͖̙͎̩̰d͇̭͚̫͇̜̝͕̠̙̙̘̠̗͇͇̼͙́͟a̛̬̥̠̮͔̖̝̘͉͎͇̙͈͇̖͜ͅr̷͜҉̲͚̮͚̪͉̲̭̘̮̬̯͙̕ę̨̕͟҉̼͎ ̼̯̪̪̞̟͖ ҉̶̡̹̘͎̘̦̭̗͟r҉̥̮̝̭͚͔̟̬̫̦̝̙̖̜̲̙̲̙e̢̙̱̝̞͎̻̗̠͉͓̻͉̗̻͙̤̲͠a̡̧̢̡̪͇̪̝̘̹͇̣̜d̷͝҉̴̞͎͝ ̻̩̰͙͎̥̙̺̜̝̤̗̼ ̛͔̥̼̩͡ţ̀͠͏̵͈ ̗̻̗̤͖̫̥̮͔͖̣̭͖̝̤̥ḩ҉̴̡̮̕ ̰̹͍̱̭̤ ̦̖̱͕͔͕̯i̷̧̢̨̱̬̰͞ͅs̸͚̥͟͢͡ ̼̦̯͍̭̲̩ ̷̵̬͙̗͉̺̠͠b̴͙̜̜̯̬̫̠̬͔o҉̡͔̬͍͉̹͞͝͡ ͔ó̡̨͖̦̰̥̗͙̯̝̙͚̯̕͘ḱ̛̛̰̫̦̼͖͈ ̗͕͍͖̮̱!̨̨̭͕͍͙̤̼

They could barely understand it, but the sound of screeching fingernails, grinding teeth and chains that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time made their hearts grow cold.

… Well, Mercedes’ eyes were glistening as she clasped her hands in wonder, but she was the exception.

“Cool! There’s a curse in the book! Hey, can I keep it now? I wanna see if I can crack it-”

“Hold it right there!” Lorenz slapped Henry’s hand as he had reached out for the book one more. “Explain what you just did, young man! What was this sorcery? And I mean that as being one of the few who actually went to a school of sorcery!”

“I-indeed! This was no normal display of magic. What have you done to achieve such results?” Constance fanned herself to feign coolheadedness.

“Muh? Well, I just hexed it! I did kinda also go to a mage school back in Plegia, if that counts. We’re all dark mages where I’m from!” He replied cheerfully.

“Preposterous. Dark magic used in combat has no such effects!” Lorenz retaliated, pulling the book away from Henry as he did his best to ignore the deathly moaning coming from it. “Hexes? Pagan practices meant to fool the ignorant? I shan’t believe in such schemes!”

“Well, you’re a weird one! You just attended a dark magic class and you don’t believe it? Wow!”

“Why, I’ll have you know-”

“I’d love to show you more complex hexes, but I think Robin and Lissa would get mad at me if anyone died, so I guess I won’t, nyaha!” He said with a smile, though an ominous shadow covered his thin eyes.

“D-died? Hey, wait, am I trying to learn something really dangerous here? I just wanted to know more stuff to be more useful!” Annette shivered, somehow sitting on the opposite side of Mercedes so as to be as far as possible from the moaning book. “Knoll did say it could be dangerous and stuff, but- death? I-I just wanted to help…”

“Huh. You’re not trying to learn magic to kill people? Another weirdo here, huh?” Henry grinned, pointing to the book once more. “Can I have that for a sec? I think if it finishes chanting whatever it started, our heads might explode! Pop!” He made a funny sound with his mouth as the group collectively lost the color on their faces.

“By all means-” Lorenz cleared his throat as he slid the book through the table to Henry, who simply had to touch it for the moaning to stop.

“Okay, uh-huh… Wow! That’s a really old curse. I’m gonna show this to Tharja later, she’s gonna love it.” He forced the book closed with a thump, silencing it once and for all.

“You will have to explain more than that, young man.” Constance tapped her fan on her palm. “I have researched magic more diligently than anyone and I have never heard of such phenomena.”

Henry turned to Constance with a gasp. “Really? Maybe the dark arts haven’t been researched at all in your world? Fun! You’ll get to discover a bunch of things.” He sing-songed as he held the large tome close to his chest. “But everything Knoll said today was true! There’s always a price to pay after using dark magic, and even greater prices if you wanna curse someone. Back then, people sacrificed other people for everything! Want to get your loved one? Plop, kill your neighbor for it! Want tomorrow to be sunny? Plop again, another neighbor dead! It must’ve been a bloodbath, nyaha!”

“Oh, goodness. Are you alright, Henry? Have you seen such things yourself?” Mercedes looked up to the strange boy, feeling compassion towards the smile he never erased.

“Mee?” He pointed to himself before his smile grew dangerously large. “Of course I saw it, silly! I slaughtered everyone in the village for killing my only family! I was sent to the mage school right away, so I got to know a bunch of other ways to kill people, too. It’s fun! You all should try it sometime.”

After saying that, he did a short bow just like how Robin taught him and bid them farewell. “I really gotta read this, so see you all next class! It’s gonna be lots of fun!”

Annette gripped at Mercedes’ sleeve to stop her own body from trembling. Constance and Lorenz frowned deeply, suddenly uncomfortable inside their own skins. Mercedes held her hands up in prayer, worried for the darkness inside that boy’s heart.

“Hey, Mercie…”

“Yes, Annie?”

“I kinda don’t wanna learn this anymore…”

The four of them exchanged glances before nodding solemnly, silently vowing to never attend a dark mage’s class ever again.

[chipper9906]

Bound To You - Chapter 2: A Dream Inside A Nightmare

<--- Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 7,453

Overall Word Count: 11,622

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (2/?)

Chapter Preview:

His dreams of Purgatory were never dreams. They were nightmares. And no matter how hard he tries, no matter the real outcome of his time in Purgatory… he never reaches his goal.

Which is why, perhaps, what happens next in the dream has the weapon sliding out of his numbed hands, hitting the floor with a wet ‘thud’. Because this never happened.

In all of his dreams of Purgatory… he never finds…

“Cas?”

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

The skies had opened, pouring down buckets of rain that made it even harder to see through the bleakness of the night. Sam hunched his shoulders up, hands shoved into his jeans pockets as he stepped out from the warmth of the hospital and into the chilling rain.

Thankfully, the doctor (he was a Doctor, as it turned out) didn’t have too many questions for him. Mostly, he just wanted to get a better understanding of the extent of damage that had been inflicted upon Dean. When he started digging a bit further into the supposed ‘thieves’ that had broken into his ‘family barn’, Sam was able to escape from the situation with the excuse of finally calling the police to deal with the situation – which, technically, he was heading to do right now.

He was meant to go back for the others, get them out of that nightmare and back to safety. But… he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back there, see the bodies that littered the floor, see… see where his brother’s blood has dried into the ground.

Cars passed by him on the road, a blur of taillights and obnoxiously bright LED’s. So many strangers whose only experience of him is a brief image of a soaked man walking in the rain, never to know of the stories he held, of the lengths he went to ensure they get to experience their lives without the pain he holds.

The phonebooth he steps isn’t much warmer than the outside, but it does at least provide him with a brief respite from the pouring rain. Sam brings the receiver to his ear, sliding a few quarters into the coin slot and jamming his large fingers into the buttons, dialing for 911. His eyes slide shut as the dull tones of the phone ringing fill his ear, waiting to hear a voice on the other end.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” The woman’s voice on the line is calm and soothing, the vigorous training the operators must go through clearly working.

“Hi, uh…” Sam raises his other hand to rub across his forehead, choosing his words carefully. It wasn’t too difficult to amplify the tremble that was already in his voice. “I, um… I was walking my dog through a farmer’s field and I heard screaming coming from this barn. My dog pulled me towards it and… there’s a bunch of bodies here.”

Sam could hear the operator clicking away at her keyboard. “Do you know your location, Sir?”

“Yeah, it’s uh… I’m not too far out of Canton, somewhere around-,” Sam spiels out the exact location of the barn – of course, he wouldn’t ever forget where it is – the only response from the operator for a few more seconds being the tip-tap of her fingers on the keyboard; likely preparing to send out a unit.

“You said you heard screaming? I need you to try and check if anyone's still alive, okay? See if they're breathing, check for a pulse if you can.”

“There’s…” Sam paused, fighting back the tears that burnt beneath his eyelids. He had left him there… had he really left those children there? “There’s kids here. They’re alive.”

“Are they injured?” The operator asks.

“No, but… they’re pretty shaken up.”

“Okay Sir, I have a unit of officers and an ambulance already on the way to you, okay? I need you to stay with the children for me, the officers will need to take a statement for you when they-,”

Sam pulls the phone away from his ear, the operator's words fading away and cutting off completely once he places the phone back onto the hook. It was better this way, he reasoned with himself. The police would take care of the situation, would make sure the children got to where they needed to be. There wasn’t much help he could provide that the police wouldn’t be able to.

At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself to push down the guilt that was clawing its way to the surface.

Sam dropped his head back into the graffiti-covered plexiglass of the booth, the exhaustion of the evening beginning to take its toll now the adrenaline was wearing off. He knew he should be rushing back into the hospital now, pacing up and down the corridor as he waited for the doctor’s news. But his legs weren’t listening to his head. He felt glued in place. He didn’t want to go back into the hospital.

Because the doctors can’t reach him here. If he stays here, the Doctors won’t be able to tell him that Dean didn’t make it. Because that way, his brother will still be alive.

Won’t he?

Sam’s phone buzzes from within his jean pocket. Two short vibrations – a text message, not a call. Sam sighs quietly to himself, not ready to face anyone just yet. Still, he digs in his pocket for his phone, pulling it out from its confines and swiping his thumb across the screen, waiting for it to light up.

The phone nearly slips out of his hands at the name on the screen.

‘Message Received - 11:27PM’

Eileen: ‘Did… did you steal my truck?’

There’s nothing he can do but stare down at his phone as the shock took over. It… it was a joke, right? It had to be. Eileen was gone, he knew that… they had been there to discover her discarded belongings on the pavement, the keyboard still open on her phone just as Chuck had snapped her away, just as he had everyone else.

And yet… here was a new message from Eileen on his phone. Just a little over two weeks from the last message. Sam clicks on the chat bubble, opening up the conversation and tapping rapidly across his phone’s keyboard.

‘Message Sent – 11:31PM’

Sam: ‘I don’t understand. Is that really you?’

‘Message Received – 11:32PM’

Eileen: ‘I think I’m me. I’m not sure what happened. One second I feel myself fading away, the next I’m right back here. Everything’s gone except my phone was still in my pocket, and… it’s been two weeks? I don’t remember anything, Sam.’

Eileen’s answers were only raising more questions. He had taken Eileen’s phone with him after they had found it. It should be on top of his dresser table back at the bunker, where it’s remained for the past two weeks. And now Eileen was back and, what – it had somehow teleported back to her, also somehow completely recharged when he knew full well its battery had died a few days after he had found it? None of this made any sense.

‘Message Sent – 11:33PM’

Sam: ‘Where are you? Are you safe?’

‘Message Received – 11:35PM’

Eileen: ‘I think I’m safe, but I’m still… where I was placed back? I’m still right outside home. It’s like I blinked, and two weeks have gone by. I haven’t moved an inch from where I was. I don’t get what’s happened, Sam. I kind of hoped you might have some idea.’

What was he going to do now? Every fiber of his being wanted to hop back into the Impala and race back over to Eileen. He couldn’t do that, though. Not when he knows Dean is just across the road, bound to a table and surrounded by scalpel wielding doctors, fighting for his life.

And worst of all… what if this wasn’t Eileen? He so wants to give in to the hope that something good has happened for once, to just take the lucky break he’s been given in the middle of this nightmare… but that just doesn’t happen for him. For them.

‘Message Sent – 11:38PM’

Sam: ‘Any chance you know how to hotwire a car?’

‘Message Received – 11:40PM’

Eileen: ’I’m honestly insulted you need to ask me that.’

Sam couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. The first he’s had in this hellish evening… Eileen did always manage to make him smile, even when the world was bearing down on him.

‘Message Received – 11:41PM’

Eileen: ‘I should be on the road in about ten minutes. Are you guys back at the bunker?’

‘Message Sent – 11:42PM’

Sam: ‘No, we’re not. We’re at Aultman Hospital in Canton. It’s Dean. I don’t know if he’s going to make it.’

‘Message Received – 11:43PM’

Eileen: ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

The little dot next to her name shifted from green to grey, signaling she was offline. Sam continued to stare down at the conversation, expecting it to vanish from his phone at any second. It was… it was real. Her messages were right in front of him, and yet, the pessimistic side of his brain was telling him not to expect for her to show up. Some sort of hallucination brought on by the trauma of this evening. A semblance of hope for his grief addled mind to cling onto.

Hope can go a hell of a long way. And if that hope is strong enough to force him out of that phonebooth and back towards the hospital, then well…  

He’ll hold onto that hope for just a little while longer.

* * *

The sounds of the hospital were repetitive, a constant cycle of sounds that faded into background noise. The shrill ringing of the phone at the reception, muffled coughs and sniffles of waiting patients, the occasional creak of a chair as someone shuffles around, surprisingly light footsteps of the staff heading up and down the hallways on their busy schedule.

The Styrofoam cup of bland coffee in his hands and long since gone cold. He had only managed to force down a few sips, his nerves twisting his stomach and making the drink unbearable to choke down.

Waiting was the worst part, Sam decided. Once they tell you the outcome… there’s not much else you can do. It’s the in-between part, where half of your mind is already starting the grieving process, whilst the other side is clinging to the belief that they’re going to pull through no matter what.

“Mr. Winchester?”

Sam’s head shot up, the doctor from earlier looking at him expectantly. Sam sprung up to his feet, very nearly throwing his stale cup of coffee all over the recently mopped hallway floors. The doctor held up a hand to stop him, gesturing for Sam to sit back down. This did nothing to soothe nerves. That wasn’t a good sign, was it? Wanting him to remain seated? Don’t they only do that when it’s bad news?

Sam dropped himself back down into the hard-plastic seat, trembling hands placing his coffee down on the floor by his feet. The exhausted-looking doctor sat down in the seat next to him, turning to face him.

“Mr. Winchester, I have to be completely honest with you here; From a medical standpoint, your brother should be dead. I’m a man of science, but the only explanation I have for your brother is that of divine intervention.”

It took a few moments for the doctors’ words to sink in. He had been expecting to hear the complete opposite, so hearing this instead had sent his brain through a loop. Dean was alive. Dean was alive.

“He made it? He - Dean’s going to be okay?”

The doctor cracked a warm smile at his words. It must be nice to be the one to sit down with a family member and give them good news. “Your stitch work is partly to thank for that, Mr. Winchester. Dean’s blood loss was extreme, to say the least, but he wouldn’t have even made it to the hospital without your intervention. The surgeons were very impressed with your abilities – do you happen to have previous medical experience?”

“Uh… a little,” That wasn’t a complete lie. He’s sewn up himself and Dean more times than he can count.

“Well, we were impressed. But mostly Mr. Winchester… we’re baffled.”

“By what?” Sam dared to ask.

The doctor opened his mouth to speak, a perplexed frown etched across his face. He shut his mouth again, giving a small shake of his head before continuing. “We truly don’t have an explanation for how your brother survived his injuries. Based on your description and the location and angle of the entry wound… that rebar should have at the very least pierced a lung, perhaps even his heart. The surgeons went in expecting this, but… there was nothing. Somehow, all his major organs were unscathed.”

“So, what does this mean for Dean? How bad is the rest of the damage?”

“Well, as you can expect, a lot of the muscle around Dean’s spine has been significantly damaged. We did all we could to repair as much as the damage we could, but there’s not much else you can do but wait for the body to heal itself.

Your brother’s currently going through another blood transfusion to replace what he’s lost. He’s still incredibly weak from the surgery, and we’ll have to keep a careful eye on him over the night. But if he makes it through to the morning… I think we can safely say your brother will recover.”

“Can… Can I see him?”

The sight of the doctor shaking his head made Sam’s heart sink a little. “I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester. Your brothers at a very vulnerable stage right now, and it’s important for our staff to be able to reach him as quickly as they can.”

Sam knew this was the doctor’s kind way of saying “you’ll just be in the way”, but he understands. If he has to wait a little while longer in exchange for his brother’s life… he can be patient.

“I… thank you, Doctor I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

The doctor shot him a small smile, but it soon began to waver. Sam picked up on the hesitation coming from the doctor, feeling his brief moment of relief come to an end.

“What? What is it?”

“There’s something else,” The doctor admitted. That’s when Sam noticed the clipboard in the Doctor’s hand, recognizing the familiar glossy sheen of an x-ray document. The doctor handed the x-ray over to him, and even without the doctor's intervention, Sam couldn’t immediately see the horrific damage.

“Whilst your brother somehow managed to avoid any damage to his organs, I’m afraid the same cant be said for his spine. The rebar was pushed in between the vertebrae, just below the thoracic lumbar. As you can see, a few of the vertebrae were shattered from the impact. Unfortunately, the damage was severe enough to severe the spinal cord along with it.”

Sam knew what this meant. Logically, he knew what the Doctor was telling him. He just… he couldn’t believe it. They had to have got it wrong.

“What does this mean for Dean?”

“We’ll have to wait until your brother wakes up to perform more tests, but… the most likely case? Your brother will be paralyzed from below the injury. Mr. Winchester, I need you to remember how fortunate it is for your brother to even be alive in the first place. And, judging by the location of the break, your brother should still retain control over his arms. I can’t guarantee anything of course, but I’m hopeful.”

He didn’t know what to say in response to that. It seemed like the doctor didn’t expect him to either, for he leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder with an understanding look in his eyes. “I’ll give you some time with your thoughts. As a doctor, I recommend you get home or get a hotel room and get some sleep. But as a brother myself, I know you’re not going to do that. I’ll be the first to let you know when you can see him, okay? As soon as it’s safe, I’ll come get you. I promise.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Sam uttered almost silently, eyes fixated to the image of his brother's shattered spine in his lap. The doctor's hand disappeared from his shoulder, and when Sam next looked up, the seat beside him was empty again.

This was a challenge he wasn’t sure how to approach. Even now it doesn’t seem real, even after all that’s happened. There had to be something, right? Some sort of spell, some kind of document hidden away in the Men of Letters files that could fix this. Crazier stuff than this had happened before, and there was always something that could help. Surely a medical miracle wouldn’t be too hard to find…

His phone vibrated against his leg, ripping Sam out of his thoughts. He pulled it out from his pockets, swiping a thumb across the screen to unlock it.

‘Message Received 3:12AM’

Eileen: ‘Pulling into the hospital now. Are you in the waiting room?’

Sam didn’t even bother replying to the message. His feet were carrying him down the hallway in mere seconds, hurriedly shoving his phone back into his pocket as he sprinted towards the hospital's entrance. The rain had yet to let up, soaking into his jacket the second he stepped foot outside. He stared desperately into the darkness of the parking lot, pushing his drenched hair out from his face as his head whipped back and forth.

And then… there she was.

She was hurrying through the parking lot, holding her olive- green jacket over her head to shelter her from some of the rain. Eileen seemed almost as surprised to see him as he was to see her, her pace faltering somewhat as her gaze landed on him. He could see her mouth his name from where he was stood, unable to hear her yet and yet he could tell she had uttered his name in disbelief.

Sam broke out into a sprint, kicking up sprays of water as he pushed through the puddles that had formed across the tarmac. Eileen’s face broke out into a beaming smile, one he knew he was mirroring right back at her. The two crashed into one another, Sam pulling the smaller woman into his chest and enveloping her with his large frame, wrapping his arms around her. She was real and warm underneath his hands, solid and alive. Eileen’s arms had snaked around his waist, her face buried into the soaked material of his shirt, not bothered by its dampness in the slightest.

‘It’s you,’ Sam unsteadily signed to her once she had pulled away, more than likely getting a few of the hand signals wrong, unable to wipe the relieved smile from his face. He couldn’t tell if the wetness on his face was entirely from the rain.

“It’s me,” Eileen reassured him, a comforting hand wrapped around his bicep. “I see the world hasn’t ended.”

Sam almost laughed. Almost. “I’m not too sure about that just yet.”

His words wiped the joking smile from Eileen’s face. “Sam… what happened?”

* * *

The hospital's canteen was closed at this hour, the only service available being the self-service coffee machine. The room was practically empty, with just the occasional staff member or visitor milling about to pour themselves a cup of coffee. Sam and Eileen were the only occupants of the metal tables, the two sat opposite with matching cups of luke-warm coffee sat in front of them.

“Wow…” Eileen breathed out, blinking rapidly in a daze down at her coffee. “So, Chuck is human now?”

“Far as I’m aware,” Sam answered. “He was when we left him, anyway.”

“And now Jack is the new God? How does that work?”

“Honestly? I have no clue.” Sam replied. “Things are going to go back to the way they were, I suppose. He won’t step in or anything like that, he’s just… working behind the scenes.”

“Work? What kind of work?”

“Wish I knew. He vanished and… that’s the last we saw of him.” Sam turned sad eyes down to his cup, picking it up and taking a timid sip of the bitter liquid. Tasted as awful as the last cup…

“…and Cas?”

Sam’s stomach twisted uncomfortably again. “Gone… Not long after… after you… I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. Dean, he… he doesn’t talk much about what happened. I didn’t want to pry, thought it’d be good to try and get back into the swing of things, take his mind off everything. And now…”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Eileen snapped curtly, making Sam startle. “Don’t start blaming yourself for this. It’s not like you forced Dean into this hunt. It went wrong – it happens.”

“I know… but this is… this is something different, Eileen. He’s… I don’t think Dean’s going to react well to this. I don’t think he ever pictured a future where he’s… he’s…”

“He’ll be thankful to be alive,” Eileen asserted. “Everything else, all the bad that comes from this, we’ll deal with it together.”

The corner of Sam’s lips curved into a subtle smile, his fingers tapping a random rhythm against the cool metal surface of the table as he thought. “There’s… there’s something else.”

Eileen looked to him cautiously. “Something else as in ‘another threat to the world’ or…”

“About Dean,” Sam answered. “When you said he should be thankful to be alive… well, that’s the thing. He shouldn’t be. The damage it should have done… it just wasn’t there.”

“How? Are you saying he somehow healed himself?”

Sam shuffled closer across the table, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. “When I got to Dean… there was this light emitting from the wound. Eileen, I saw his body stitch itself back together. But it didn’t heal him completely. It seemed almost alive, like it was struggling as it healed him.”

“That’s… how is that even possible? A spell?”

“Maybe? Except, I know for sure Dean doesn’t dabble in magic, and I don’t see why some random witch would give Dean a life-saving spell. I mean, those things take a lot of effort, not to mention costly and hard to find ingredients. I’ve seen this light before. I think… I think Dean isn’t entirely himself.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I think Dean’s being possessed.”

“What? By who?”

“That’s what we need to find out,” Sam stressed. “Cas told us there were barely any angels left in Heaven, and I can't see any of them being willing to fly down here and help Dean – and there’s no way Dean would let one of them possess him. He just… he wouldn’t risk it.”

“I know you said he was dead, but… Is there any chance it’s Michael? Maybe he’s not even possessing Dean. Angels leave behind some of their grace in their vessels, right? Maybe Dean found a way to use the left-over grace to heal himself.”

“I don’t think so,” Sam disputed. “Unless Dean knows something I don’t, humans shouldn’t be able to access an angel's grace. It’s not like you can tell it there or anything, at least – I couldn’t tell with Lucifer or Gadreel.”

“Okay, so… maybe it’s not an angel?”

“Doesn’t look like demon possession,” Sam said. “You don’t see demons healing their vessels often… then again, a lot of them kill whoever they possessing anyway, so why would they bother? There’s just something about that light though… it looked too… angel to be anything else.”

“Unless it’s a demon trying to trick you,” Eileen pointed out. “They might be trying to lay low, hope you won’t act too brash if you think it’s an angel instead of a demon.”

“But why would a demon heal my brother?” Sam stressed, leaning closer to Eileen over the table. “And why would they have to ‘lie low?’”

“Didn’t you say Hell is under a new regime? I can’t imagine every demon down there is on board with the changes. You and Dean are probably like beacons to those demons at this point; I wouldn’t be surprised if they kept tabs on the both of you. All it would take is one rebellious demon to sense Dean’s vulnerability when he was injured and… took the opportunity.”

“Maybe… but even then, why wouldn’t whatever’s possessing Dean heal him completely? Whatever it is, it saved his life, but… it was like it didn’t have the energy left to heal everything else. I mean, I can’t imagine a demon wanting to use a vessel that’s… that’s paralyzed…”

“Do you think… this is going to be something bigger? Bigger than just us, again?” Eileen asked timidly.

Sam huffed out a dry laugh, letting his gaze drop down to the coffee in his hands. “You mean like ‘apocalypse’ big? I don’t think so. At least, I hope not… Look, I’m… I don’t want to be the guy to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know? For some reason, something stepped in and saved Dean. But I can’t just ignore the reason as to why.”

Eileen nodded her head slowly in agreement. “So… what are we going to do?”

“The only thing we can do,” Sam slowly peeled back his jacket, giving Eileen a glimpse of the angel blade neatly tucked away within the interior. “We test him.”

* * *

 When Dean opens his eyes, it’s to the sight of a gray murky sky, most of his vision blocked by the long, tangling branches of the trees that hung over him, stretching out like sharp fingers reaching out to one another.

He was on his back, he realized; the cold dampness of the leaves under his back quickly soaking into his jacket. Dean pulls himself up into a sitting position with a groan, twisting his body to get a good look at his surroundings.

Ah… it was this dream again.

The forest around him was alive in the worst way possible. Filled to the brim with all sorts of starving, blood-thirsty creatures, left to hunt one another for all of eternity. He already knew they were all around him, out of sight but their presence always keenly felt.

It’s only once he pulls himself to his feet that he feels a heavy weight resting in his hand that certainly wasn’t there before. His hand-crafted weapon had seemingly materialized into his hands out of thin air, which was on-par for his dreams of Purgatory. They were the same practically every time he had them; wake up, find his weapon, kill. But there was always one goal in these dreams, one hope that kept him going…

But that was the thing. His dreams of Purgatory were never dreams. They were nightmares. And no matter how hard he tries, no matter the real outcome of his time in Purgatory… he never reaches his goal.

Which is why, perhaps, what happens next in the dream has the weapon sliding out of his numbed hands, hitting the floor with a wet ‘thud’. Because this never happened.

In all of his dreams of Purgatory… he never finds…

“Cas?”

Castiel looked exactly as he did the last time Dean saw him – well, perhaps not exactly like last time. He certainly didn’t look like the Cas he found in Purgatory; his beige trench coat was clean and pristine, not even a wrinkle to be seen on his azure blue tie, the color popping bright in the bland colors of Purgatory. His face was pretty much clean-shaven, only the slightest of hints of a five o’clock shadow brushed across his face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Is the first thing to slip from Dean’s mouth, keeping a few cautious steps away from the memory of Cas that his brain had for some reason decided to place into his dream.

Castiel gives him a sad smile, ducking his head to avoid Dean’s questioning gaze. “I know I’m not supposed to be here. But it was the only solution at the time.”

“What?” Dean blurted out, his head rearing back in confusion. “No, it’s… I don’t get it…”

Castiel looked equally as befuddled as Dean now, face creasing with worry at the sight of Dean’s uncertainty. “You don’t get what?”

“This… this isn’t how the dream is supposed to go,” Dean insists. “It never changes. The dream never changes. I’m always trying to find you, trying to get you out of here. But every time… I fail. I never get to you in time, and the times I do find you… They get to you first.”

Understanding flooded through Castiel, the worry on his face quickly changing to a look Dean knew to be pity. “Dean… this isn’t a dream. Not anymore, at least.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“I suppose it’s possible your brain is trying to block it out… I just didn’t think it would be to this extent.”

“Alright, that’s it-,” Dean snapped, storming back over to where he dropped his weapon and snatching it from the floor. He flipped it in his hands, gripping the handle tight and pointing the end of the bone blade at whatever the hell had taken up Castiel’s form. “I don’t know if you were made by my own mind, or if something else is at play here, but this is fucked up. You don’t get to use him like this. You don’t get to stand there, pretend to be my dead best friend, you son of a bitch. I’m waking up-,”

“You can’t,” Castiel interrupted softly. “Not yet, anyway. Soon though, if I’m correct.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean challenged, waving the weapon in front of Cas’s face. “And how do you know that?”

The forest around him changed. His vision flickered, everything becoming almost… staticky in appearance. Dean blinked, and Purgatory was gone. Now the concrete walls of the bunker surrounded him, seemingly teleported into the central area of the bunker. Castiel stood awkwardly by the map table, keeping an apprehensive eye on Dean.

“What in the-,”

“Dean, you need to remember what happened last night,” Castiel insisted, taking a chance and stepping closer to Dean. “You and Sam were on a hunt. Vampire nest, by the looks of it. But something happened. Something went wrong, and you were hurt.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re-,”

The memories hit him like a tidal wave, drowning him in agonizing pain. They flash through his mind rapidly, forcing him to drop down on his knees, hitting the floor hard.  There was a hunt. It had gone wrong. Very wrong. The rebar… it was like he could still feel it impaled through his chest, could still hear his gurgles, choking on his blood.

He remembered… He was dying. And he prayed. He had prayed to Castiel, hadn’t he? And then there was that… that thing. This horrifying figure dripping with shadowy sludge that reached out for him, two gigantic and shattered wings unfurling over it’s back, stretching out in what once must have been an impressive display.

And… eyes. Blue eyes. Glowing deep within the seemingly never-ending darkness of the creature’s face, they emitted a visceral power, and yet… he had seen them before.

Dean lifts his head from his chest, his vision out of focus as things begin to click together in his mind. When his vision comes back into focus, it’s to the sight of Cas crouched down in front of him, a comforting hand resting on his left shoulder.

“You’re… you’re not part of my dream…?”

“No,” Castiel answered softly.

“It’s… it’s you?”

The edge of Castiel’s lips barely curled into a smile, giving Dean a gentle nod in response. Dean could only stare wide-eyed at Cas for a few moments, just waiting to snap awake back in his bed surrounded by empty bottles of booze, tricked by yet another cruel dream his mind liked to torture him with.

Dean lifted a tentative hand between the two of them, pushing it forward and gently resting his palm on Castiel’s chest. There was no heartbeat under his palm, but a flow of pulsating, warm, static-like energy that rested just underneath his skin, eagerly pressing itself against Dean’s prying hands. Dean lifted his eyes up to meet Cas’s, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as a million thoughts raced through his head. Dean’s hand shifts up, sliding up past Castiel’s neck and caressing across the side of his face, the sharp burn of stubble rubbing against Dean’s skin as he moves. The touch elicited another subtle smile from Cas, the angel patiently waiting for Dean to finish his inspection.

“Cas?” Dean breathes out his name in dumbfoundment, his fingers scrunching into the soft collar of Cas’s trench coat.

“Hello, Dean.”

That was all Dean needed to hear. He pulled Castiel closer by the lapel of his trench coat, the unexpected pull sending Cas off-kilter, all but crashing into the hug Dean pulled him into. Dean squeezed him tight like he might vanish if he doesn’t hold him close enough, fingers digging into his trench coat so hard that Cas could feel them scraping against his back.

“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean whispers shakily against Cas’s neck, squeezing him tighter. “You left me. Right when I… right when we needed you most.”

“I know,” Castiel utters softly in return. “I’m sorry. But If I had to, I’d do it all again. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

“You should have told us earlier,” Dean broke their embrace, squeezing Cas’s arm more in frustration now. “We could have figured something out, Cas. Got you out of that deal somehow…”

“And if you had, Billie would have knocked down that door and killed us both anyway,” Cas pointed out. “I would have been dragged to the Empty, and you would have been reaped.”

Cas began pulling him up to his feet, faintly tugging at his arm to get him to stand. Dean followed, getting a leg underneath him, leaning his weight on Cas for support to stand. Cas led him over to the map table, hovering nearby as he waited for Dean to drop himself down into one of the chairs before taking a seat himself opposite.

“So… this is all in my head right now?”

Castiel nodded. “You’re dreaming, technically. This is the only way I can interact with you in this form, face to face. I hope you don’t mind, but I changed the setting of your dream. I thought it might be more peaceful to talk in a place where you feel safe.”

“And you can do that because… you’re in my head… Holy - - I said yes, didn’t I? You’re… you’re possessing me?”

“I am,” Castiel answered. “It was the only way for me to heal you. It would have been impossible to do so outside of my body.”

“Cas, you’ve gotta explain some more of this to me man, because I don’t understand how… I mean, you were gone. I saw it. I saw you just… it took you. How the hell did you get out?”

Castiel kept his eyes trained on his hands, folded together in front of him on the table, his index finger tapping anxiously against his other hand. “Because of you.”

“…What?”

“It’s only happened once before, as far as I know. And that was with Nick.”

“Nick? Like… ‘Lucifer’, Nick?”

“Yes… It’s… it’s very rare for an angel to be killed, but have the vessel survive. And it’s even rarer to have the surviving vessel miss being possessed. Nick's longing to have Lucifer back was so intense that it breached through to the Empty, waking Lucifer from his eternal slumber. When I awoke in the Empty the last time, I assumed it was just Jack’s power that had breached through. But Nick proved that you don’t need power to do so. And now… so have you.”

“Oh…” Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, subconsciously leaning away, putting a little bit of extra distance between him and Cas. “So… My prayer woke you up?”

“Your prayer. Your longing. Your pain in what you perceived to be your last moments… It was strong enough that not even the Empty itself could keep it quiet.”

“Huh…" Dean said brightly. "Bet the Empty’s pissed you got out again.”

Castiel huffed a hushed laugh. “I’d imagine so, yes… It was definitely trying it’s best to keep me there when the portal opened.”

The two of them shared soft , easy smiles across the table. Dean wanted to take the time to enjoy this peaceful moment between the two of them before his life collapsed into chaos again. Which it undoubtedly will, because since when do they ever catch a break?

“How many times you gonna save my life, Cas? Somehow even after death, you’re dragging my ass out of the fire…”

“Since when does death stop us?” Castiel refuted, a point Dean couldn’t help but agree with. “Besides, it’s what we do, isn’t it? We save each other.”

“Yeah… Yeah, it is… Cas, I… I wanted to find a way to get you out of there. You know that, right? I mean, after you were gone, I… me and Sammy were ready to throw in the towel if it meant Chuck would stop, if he’d bring everyone back, bring you back… But then I kept hearing your words in my head. I kept thinking about how you did that, for me. And no matter how much I wanted to get you out, I knew deep down that trying to would get me killed. Because I’d be so desperate to find you, I wouldn’t know when to stop, when to call it quits. And If I got myself killed like that after you gave yourself up for me… it would be such an insult to you. I couldn’t do that….”

“It’s okay,” Castiel assured him, nothing but sincerity in his voice. “I did what I did because I knew our best chance at defeating Chuck was with you. I did it, because… I wanted you to live the life you deserve. Not the one Chuck had written out for you, not the one you thought you should be living, or the one you forced yourself into thinking you wanted… I wanted you to truly decide what life you wanted to live… and live it.”

“Yeah, well… I tried. I wasn’t coping too well after… y’know. Thought a good ol’ fashioned hunt would distract me for a while. No God to fight, just plain Vampires. You saw how that ended up…”

“I had hoped that Jack might step in to intervene. I could sense his power the second I pulled myself free from the Empty. Jack is… he’s more powerful than any being that has ever existed now. The combined power of two Gods, along with his own? I just… I don’t understand why he wouldn’t help you.”

Dean could only shrug his shoulders in response. “Jack said he wasn’t going to be ‘hands-on’ with the world. Guess he meant it. No more second chances.”

“Ah… then I suppose we’ve broken the rules again?”

“Well, Jack hasn’t smited us on the spot for it… so I guess he can’t be too pissed?”

“Exasperated, maybe.” Castiel countered with a tired smile.

“Alright-,” Dean gave the table a small slap, the action getting him a questioning eyebrow raise from Cas. “What’s the plan now, Cas? You gonna hop out of me, find some poor devout sucker willing to take you in?”

The smile slipped away from Cas’s face, which made the care-free attitude Dean had settled into melt away and be replaced with a familiar worry.

“Dean… I can’t….”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Dean asked.

“I can’t force an innocent person into that existence again, Dean. With Jimmy… he had been so happy when I first took control. So certain he had been chosen, that he was special. I didn’t care back then. He was just… my vessel. A tool for me to perform my duties on Earth. I know now of the torture he had been through, the intense regret had ever felt for saying ‘yes’. Now Jimmy’s soul rests in heaven, and his body… his body hasn’t been his in some time now. I had lived as a human in his vessel, Dean. Now… this body? This is my body. It’s as much a part of me that my true form is.”

“Okay, so… where is Jimmy’s body? Last time you came back from the Empty, you had your vessel didn’t you?”

“Because of Jack,” Castiel replied. “His powers meant I had come to in the Empty within the vessel I was possessing. This time… you saw what the Empty did to me as it took me. It broke me apart, atom by atom until I became… nothing. Nothing but Empty.”

“You saying your body is just gone?” Dean spluttered.

“It was destroyed, yes.”

“Can’t you just… I don’t know, use your grace and make it again?”

“No. I can’t. It’s... it’s another reason why I can’t just possess another vessel. My grace… it’s been fading. I’m not sure if it was Chuck’s intervention, or with the state Heaven’s in… perhaps both. But… Dean, I used nearly all of my grace to keep you alive. The small amount I have left is what’s keeping me tethered to you. The effort it would take to leave you and locate a vessel that could occupy me, to speak with them and then take possession… the effort would burn through what’s left of my grace.”

Dean dropped his head down, scrunching his eyes as his hand came up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Dammit, Cas… if you knew that was going to happen, you shouldn’t have-,”

“Healed you?” Castiel finished Dean’s sentence, voice dripping with disbelief. “I think we both know that’s not an option.”

“Yeah, and now what? You’re gonna be trapped in my head, Cas. How long? The rest of my life? Can I even die while you’re possessing me?”

“Eventually, yes. My grace would burn out trying to keep you alive as you age.”

“Fuck… Okay, okay… we’ll figure something out.” Dean muttered, tapping anxious fingers against the glass top of the map table.

“Like what?” Castiel asked, clearly not too confident in Dean's plan making abilities. 

“Like… I dunno, Cas. I’ll wake up, and me and Sam will tear apart the bunker trying to find something… There’s got to be some way to repair your body, or… or make a new one. An empty vessel.”

“Dean… I don’t think-,”

“No offense Cas, but damn nearly every time you’ve said, ‘I don’t think we can do that’, we find a way to do it anyway.” Dean jabbed a finger at Cas as he spoke. “If we can find a way to recreate your body, would you be able to jump into it without using up the rest of your mojo?”

“I… I suppose so,” Cas answered, not sounding too sure in his answer. “If it was a recreation of Jimmy’s… of my body, then yes. Seeing as I already had permission to possess the body, the amount of grace required for me to transfer over from you to the new vessel should be survivable.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Dean said with a tone of finality. “We’ll find a way, Cas. I promise you. All I’ve gotta do is… wake up.”

“Dean, there’s… there’s something else,” Castiel’s expression had shifted to something akin to guilt, no longer able to meet Dean’s gaze. “When I healed you… I only had enough grace left to heal the damage that would be fatal. The pierced chamber of your heart, your collapsed lung, and your broken ribs… but that was all I could fix before my grace had ‘ran dry’. Mine and Sam’s efforts were enough to keep you alive long enough to get medical attention, and the doctors did everything they could… but there’s some damage leftover that I can’t heal.”

Dean’s mouth felt dry, a wave of nausea flooding through him at the thought of what had been broken inside of him so badly for Cas to be this apprehensive with his answer.

“What kind of damage, Cas?”

Castiel swallowed nervously, something that Dean realized was very human of him to do. He finally lifted his eyes up from the table to meet Dean’s inquiring gaze, opening his mouth to answer. But if Castiel spoke then, Dean didn’t hear it. Everything had gone silent as Castiel disappeared in a burst of white light, exploding through the room until the bunker was all but gone, nothing left of Dean’s vision except for that intense, blinding light.

In a small private room in the ICU of Aultman Hospital, Dean Winchester awakens.

Next Chapter --->

[birlcholtz]

78 for the prompt list? Whatever you're feeling for the ship

78. “You always find a way to surprise me.” from this prompt list!

here is nurseydex with a side of them managing their conflict way back in their frog year instead of having it explode in their junior year with dex constructing a studio apartment in the haus basement oops, this one managed to crack 3k words because once i wrote the first scene i had to keep going, so enjoy!! ao3

.

“You always find a way to surprise me,” Dex snaps. “What is this, pretend to sympathize with the gay kid and then make it all about you?”

Which is a dumb ass conclusion to get from Nursey trying to share feelings and empathize and shit. I told Dex I’m bi for this? “Chill, what the fuck? I was not making it about myself, I was trying to make it clear that I fucking understand how you feel.” And Nursey hates that his voice is starting to get a little louder, a little pitchier, but this is so like Dex, to take the first thing he thinks and run with it, and it’s kind of fucking upsetting because Nursey had just been letting himself think that maybe Dex and his fiery hair and his freckles and his smart mouth and his energy didn’t just fall into Nursey’s orbit in vain, that maybe this stupid crush he had on Dex (and the fiery hair and the freckles and the smart mouth and the energy) could go somewhere, and now, well, Dex has taken that bit of hope and stomped on it.

It’s something he’s very good at. Stomping on hope, that is. Nursey has watched Dex dismantle forwards’ goal-scoring ambitions like it’s as easy as breathing. He’s helped Dex do that, and Dex has helped him in return.

“That you understand how I feel? You have two moms, Nurse. You—” And then Dex blows all the air out of his lungs in one breath and half-turns away, enough that he’s not looking at Nursey, enough that Nursey can barely see his face. “It didn’t really help,” he adds, and Nursey is about to say ‘duh, thanks, Captain Obvious’ when Dex adds, slowly, “Um. But. You made an effort. Thank you? Sorry.”

“Uh?” Nursey manages. Both because of the quick 180 and because he’s never heard Dex sound so tentative in his life. He half-wonders if the Haus is going to fall down around them, because the Haus, like Dex’s general conviction in him being right, is an institution of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team. If one can fall, so can the other. “You’re welcome?” And it comes out just as tentative from him as it did from Dex. “Sorry it wasn’t helpful. I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear,” Dex says, but without bite. “I appreciate you wanting to help, though.”

Okay, this is just too weird. “Sorry, did you wake up today and decide to just be a different person? I mean, I feel like this is an improvement, but if you’re actually just possessed by some sort of weird demon I might have to put a stop to things.”

Dex scrunches his nose up like he can’t decide whether to be angry or amused and says, “Uh, no. Well, kind of. My mom told me to try taking out my anger on the other team, not my own defense partner. Ironic, right?”

Considering that Dex’s mom’s blissfully ignorant questions about girlfriends had sparked Dex’s whole frustration-driven coming out to Nursey that morning, yes. Nursey nods. “But I’m glad you, like, felt like you could come out to me. Even though we fight all the time and shit.”

“Not on the ice, anymore,” Dex points out. Which is true. The first time they’d really clicked on the ice was during a game, with Samwell two points behind and Chowder, in the net, only just having recovered from a minor freak-out after the second period. The other team hadn’t scored at all, Wicks had gotten one goal, Bitty had gotten one, and Jack had gotten two, and Nursey had felt incredibly awkward afterwards as he realized how well he and Dex worked together if they actually, you know, worked together. 

Dex had probably realized that at the same time, because they’d managed to keep fighting during practice to a minimum.

Maybe it was only a matter of time until one of them figured out the same thing applied even when they didn’t have their skates on.

“Not on the ice,” Nursey agrees. “If we both try and fight the other team instead of each other, we probably stand a chance at not fighting at all.”

.

Three months later, Nursey discovers that was bullshit.

Sure, they’re doing better. They’re actually doing so much better that Coach Hall called them into his office to tell them he was proud of their progress, and once Nursey gave Dex a fist bump and pretended not to see Ransom and Holster silently losing their minds over it.

But they still fight. That’s just how things work with Nursey and Dex.

(He’s even getting used to hearing their names said together, as a pair, like RansomandHolster or OllieandWicks. Even if his and Dex’s friendship is much less… well, solid.)

“I can’t believe you actually like the top bunk,” Dex says, taking a bite out of his apple with more force than the situation calls for. “We’re the same height, how do you not hit your head every time you sit up?”

“I’m careful?” Nursey notices he’s not sure exactly when Chowder left the Haus kitchen. He definitely did, though, because all three of them came in together, but whatever, Chowder’s an adult, and Nursey has a debate to win. “Besides, if I have the bottom bunk I always wind up sitting in my bed doing homework and stuff—”

“Which is nice.”

“But then my brain associates being in bed with doing homework and not with sleeping and when I try to sleep I can’t because my brain is like oh, it’s time for… fucking Ovid or some shit.”

“And then you fall asleep because you skated suicides for half an hour and did planks on your breaks and had an entire hockey practice and then went to class for the whole day,” Dex says.

“No, then you stay awake for at least an hour because your brain is rehashing your entire seminar on Roman historians and then for good measure it goes through your entire life and shows you a greatest hits reel of your embarrassing moments, and then you can’t fall asleep because the people across the hall are having a party.” Nursey pauses. “I think I had a point in there somewhere but I got distracted talking about why falling asleep is hard.”

“Bunk beds,” Dex supplies.

“Right. So top bunks are ideal because then I can maintain the separation between work and sleep.”

“Like the separation of church and state.”

“Yes. Also no because that’s completely different.”

“But they are separations. You cannot deny that.”

Which is true. “I cannot.”

And Dex smiles a little at that and takes another bite out of his apple, and Nursey finds himself a little too absorbed in watching as Dex sticks the apple in his mouth and bites down to keep it there, then pulls out his laptop from his backpack and sets it on the kitchen table.

The apple looks dangerously close to falling out of Dex’s mouth, and Nursey stops himself from reaching out to take it before it lands on the floor.

It doesn’t, anyway. Dex gets his laptop open and then keeps eating his apple one-handed as he types something.

Becoming friends with Dex erased Nursey’s distant, unfortunate, aesthetic-driven crush on him, but it was quickly followed by something worse: a real crush. Because underneath the prickly exterior, when Dex is actually making an effort to get to know someone, he’s just… nice to be around. He worries about what other people think of him as much as Nursey does, even if he hides it in a different way. He cheerfully disagrees with Nursey on inane topics, and they get each other into long arguments with the same fervor— passion, Nursey’s brain supplies unsolicited— as the great Attic vs. Roaches debate, if not the same scale. Because it’s just Nursey and Dex, not the whole team. 

He kind of likes it that way.

.

Coming back to campus for pre-season means a couple of things. It means Nursey has to get back on a regular schedule, after doing pretty much nothing besides sleeping, working out, and relaxing. It means he gets on campus before most people, so he can move in in relative peace. And it means he sees his friends. He sees Dex.

It’s been a long summer. Nursey isn’t really sure how he’ll feel when he gets back to campus. At this point, he’s not even really sure what he’s hoping for— the idea of feeling secure in a platonic friendship with Dex and not having to worry about any crush-related feelings is tempting, sure, but Nursey feels like if he gets back to campus and Dex is just another friend, he will have lost something.

Or maybe that’s just the romantic in him talking. Either way, whatever happens happens and Nursey is just going to have to deal.

That mindset lasts all the way until he’s walking to the Haus after unpacking in his dorm room and hears someone yell “Nursey!” from behind him.

He turns around, and there’s Dex, barreling towards him with a lot more freckles and sun-kissed red hair and a t-shirt that is a little more snug than is probably decent and a huge smile, and Nursey has barely registered all of this before Dex catches up and hugs him.

Excuse me?

Even after Dex had come out— and Nursey doesn’t even know how many people on the team he’s out to, it doesn’t seem like many— he still hasn’t been a touchy person. Especially not to Nursey, barring fingers pointed in faces and things like that. And funnily enough, they’d touched each other even less once they stopped fighting all the time. But now…

Now, here they are, and Nursey would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to be here.

So he hugs back, and tries to keep his voice calm as he says, “Dex! Hey, man, how are you?” and hopes Dex can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest like if it beats fast enough it’ll convince Dex’s heart to match.

Fuck.

.

The night before Ransom, Holster, and Lardo’s graduation finds Nursey and Dex sitting in the Reading Room and talking options.

They’ve never shared a room before. They’ve shared spaces, and sometimes they both crash in Chowder’s room at the Haus after a kegster, and once Nursey brought Dex leftover pie while he was cramming for a midterm and wound up hanging out in his room for a while. That’s about it.

“If we do a bunk bed, we’ll have a lot more floor space,” Dex says. “And then you can have the top bunk you’ve always dreamed of. Although I’m still not sure I believe you about not falling out.”

“Aw, William, you remembered? I’m touched.” And Nursey tries his best to make sure that comes out sounding funny and not sad or wistful or anything like that.

This is something he’s considered, and then immediately decided to ignore. It will be harder to hide his crush on Dex if they live together. It’s already hard now, after a full year of spending more and more time together. Nursey has never appreciated plaid flannel shirts the way he does now, after mentally cataloguing Dex’s entire collection (he has eight, but don’t let that fool you, he wears the same three over and over and breaks out the other ones for special occasions). Every day he gets a little more worried that Dex will catch him staring and Nursey won’t think of a witty remark in time.

And it’s not just Dex he’s worried about, because Holster has definitely started to give Nursey Looks when he catches Nursey staring at Dex. Someone has clearly caught on to what’s going on, and the only good thing about it is that Holster hasn’t tried to say anything about it to him.

Well. Holster’s graduating, and next year Nursey will have a whole new crop of teammates who will be blissfully in the dark. And isn’t that a terrifying thought.

“I don’t want them to leave,” he says, but he doesn’t explain why.

Thankfully, Dex doesn’t ask. “I was just thinking that. But we’ll cope.” He says it so plainly, like it’s already a foregone conclusion. “Even if Bitty makes us get up at four AM for… what did he call them?”

“Soviet calisthenics.”

“Right. How could I forget?” And he smiles, and even though Nursey is pretending to look vaguely across the street in the direction of the LAX house, he sees it and he immediately wants to smile back.

So he does. What’s the harm?

“But anyway,” Dex says. “The room. I don’t think we can compete with Ollie and Wicks for interior design, Wicks showed me his Pinterest board and I’m pretty sure it was just to intimidate me? But it fucking worked, so. Let’s at least make our room a place we can both live in.”

“What was on the Pinterest board?” What aspects of interior design intimidate Dex, is what Nursey really wants to know, because he always wants to know everything there is to know about Dex. But he’ll settle for this clue instead.

“A chandelier and hand-knitted throw blankets. Also, shiplap.“ 

“I… only have a vague idea of what that is.”

“That’s okay, all you need to know is that it’s very popular on HGTV home makeovers.” Dex scoffs. “Waste of time and money if you ask me.”

And that’s so like Dex that Nursey can’t help but laugh and say, “I can’t believe I didn’t like you our first semester.” When Dex raises his eyebrows, he says, “Like, our opinions clashed and all of that, but you’re just so…” Passionate. There’s that fucking word again. Big nope. “Sure of yourself.” It had pissed Nursey off at the beginning, before he’d realized that most of Dex’s strongly held opinions were either correct or just… totally irrelevant to them being able to get along. Like the fucking bottom bunk thing. Dex is clearly wrong, he just hasn’t accepted it. 

Dex’s voice sounds a little odd when he says, “That doesn’t sound like a ‘but’, that sounds like another reason you didn’t like me.”

“More like… fuck. No, that’s not the right word to use, sorry.” Nursey’s going to have to fucking say ‘passionate’, isn’t he. The universe is against him right now, but he doesn’t know what that weird tone is in Dex’s voice and he doesn’t want to turn and look at him to find out. “Not sure of yourself. You’re just… when you care about something, you really care about it, you know? I admire that. Being… passionate.” Fuck, he said it. Fuck fuck fuck.

Dex’s voice still sounds strange when he says, “I admire you too, you know.”

And that makes Nursey whip around faster than he has ever turned in his life.

Dex is sitting cross legged, wearing his preferred red flannel, looking right at Nursey, and his face is flushing a little but he repeats, “I admire you too. Because you’re really dedicated to, like, growing as a person and shit. You want to be your best self. It makes me want to do that too.”

“…Thanks.”

With that, Nursey resigns himself to the conversation being over, but he hasn’t turned back to stare vaguely in the LAX house’s general direction before Dex says, fingers twisting in the hem of his flannel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Nursey says, and hopes he won’t regret it.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?”

Dex stops twisting up the hem of his flannel and laces his fingers together like he’s trying to keep them still. Which he is, Nursey realizes, because fiddling with clothing is one of Dex’s nervous tics. (He has several.) “You haven’t wanted to hang out as much lately. And you seem stressed about something but I don’t know what it would be since our finals are done and our season’s done and everything. You don’t have to tell me the details, but… is there something I can do?”

Well. Nursey regrets this already. But… no better time to say things you might regret than in the middle of the night before leaving for an entire summer, right? Worst case scenario, all he has to do is get through the graduation ceremony, then he’ll be back in New York and he can text Dex sometime in July and say he’s over him. Even if it’s not true.

“Uh, there’s nothing wrong, really, but…” If he’s going to do it, he needs to be all-in. “Sorry about avoiding you, I don’t think I even consciously realized I was doing it? But I just… I’ve been really stressed about getting through next year. Because I’ve had a huge crush on you for like a year and I don’t know what’s going to happen next year if we’re living together and don’t look at me like that, I’ve been coping fine, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just… Well, you asked,” Nursey finishes lamely, because he doesn’t know what to say to get that look of shock off Dex’s face. “Sorry.”

He waits for a moment before actually looking at Dex becomes too much, and he gets up to go inside. Coping with commencement and texting Dex he’s over him in July it is.

“Wait,” Dex says, urgency coloring his voice, and Nursey stops almost before he’s got the syllable out of his mouth.

And he turns around, and Dex is standing too, and he says, “There is something I can do.” And before Nursey can ask what, Dex continues, “I’ve been telling myself for months to just let it go away, but… I have had a crush on you for so long—” and then he stops abruptly, and Nursey doesn’t know what to think for a second, and then Dex says, “Sorry, I was going to call you Nursey but then I wasn’t sure if that was the right choice given the context so I just kind of froze?”

“Oh my god,” Nursey says, and that’s as far as he gets before he starts to laugh and also maybe tear up a little because he has been stressing about this ever since that dib flip. “We’re so dumb.”

“Complete idiots,” Dex agrees, and his voice sounds a little shaky, which just makes it match Nursey’s own. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to sit down.” And he sits back down, and Nursey joins him, only a lot closer than the careful two feet he had left between them earlier. “I am so glad I asked.”

“Speaking of asking things, what do we do now?”

“You mean about the room next year, or just in general?”

“Both, I guess.”

Dex contemplates it for a second. “I’m pretty sure we can handle sharing a room. Like, all we have to do is communicate with each other, right?”

“It’s been working pretty well everywhere else in our lives,” Nursey agrees.

“So that’s that for the room. And in general… I guess that just depends on what we want.”

Nursey considers that. “Well, what I want right now is to ask if I can kiss you, and I think the rest can wait until tomorrow.”

“That works for me,” Dex says, and he smiles when he pulls Nursey in for a kiss that feels like it validates every minute Nursey spent pining. He’d do it all again for another chance to throw his arms over Dex’s shoulders and pull him closer, and closer, and closer, until there’s no space between their bodies at all.

Nursey is pretty sure junior year is going to be great.

[natsubeatsrock]

Is Stain’s ideal for heroes being accomplished?

“Hero” should not be a title given to those seeking reward and recompense, but one earned through tireless self-sacrifice. The heroes of this era are pretenders who misrepresent themselves. Only through a relentless purge can society be made aware of this truth.

Stain may be the third most important villain in MHA, behind only Tomura Shigaraki and All for One. He was only around for two arcs, but his influence stretches well beyond the Work Study arc he was captured in. Explanation Point made a great video touching on the challenge to the capitalist society Stain presents.

Though, there is a point about him I’ve seen thrown around him: his core ideas of heroes doing good for the wrong reasons isn’t fully or properly addressed once the arc ends. I don’t think this is as simple an issue as people seem to make it out to be. The issue is kind of tricky and I’ve come up with three different responses to this based on three questions I want to answer: “Is the world where Stain wanted it?”, “Is the world coming closer to Stain’s ideal?”, and “Is Stain’s ideal realized in heroes other than All Might and Deku?”

You’ll notice I’ve left out a discussion of whether or not Stain’s ideals for heroes are good. As I’ll mention later, Stain’s ultimate ideal for heroes isn’t one that is bad and that is recognized in universe. Thankfully, it’s generally agreed that this was a good ideal handled in a terrible way. I don’t want to have to argue otherwise.

Question #1: Is the world where Stain wants it?

Answer: No

When I see people talk about “Stain not doing much to influence much”, this is where I see most people getting at. The world Stain envisioned isn’t where the current world is. As slow as wide-scale social change usually takes, it’s not as if serious events can’t force that kind of change quickly. (muffled cough) If there was a big change on the villains side because of Stain, why didn’t that happen on the heroes side?

I feel that this perspective misses a really obvious problem with Stain: he was trying to achieve his ideal by killing people. I don’t say that in a “he wanted something good but people died in the process” way. He wanted to achieve a world with altruistic heroes by killing... basically every other kind of hero. This is a major pillar in his philosophy.

On the villain side, it makes sense that he’d inspire people. He gives many villains the impression that they’re more justified in being villains than heroes are stopping them. If the biggest pressure for heroes to change comes from someone literally titled “The Hero Killer”, it’s not shocking to see little if any change happen immediately.

Immediately being the key issue. The world may improve in this regard and heroes may come to be more altruistic as a whole. For now, it has a ways to go before it gets there. Though, that’s more about question 2.

Question #2: Is the world coming closer to Stain’s ideal? 

Answer: Slowly...

Before the Provisional Hero License Exam begins, Mera makes the point about Stain’s views permeating through the world and the image of heroes as professionals is being put in lower regard. He uses this ultimately to discuss whether it’s good for heroes to be paid for their work. However, there is an obvious sense in which there is a widespread recognition that the way things are in the hero world can’t stay the same.

Though this was an idea brought forth by Stain, the thing I believe caused a response from higher-ups is the retirement of All Might. Now that the Symbol of Peace is gone, the government recognizes the ways it’s lacking and that it needs to change. They even mention this as they discuss the philosophy behind the activities for the exam. The world of heroes has to adapt to a world without All Might, whether they want to or not.

For many, part of this involves looking back and seeing some logic to Stain’s ideal. Obviously, Stain was wrong to kill heroes and no one who isn’t a villain questions that. However, the greatest hero is gone, and he was the only (pro) hero Stain respected. Is there a reason to trust the heroes left?

Especially considering the guy who took his place wasn’t considered a true hero by Stain? Remember, Endeavor was at the scene where the video footage was taken and Stain wasn’t a fan of him. (To be fair, neither were most people at that point in the series.)

It seems that the obsession for glory and money is only a more recent trend in heroism. All Might came from a time where heroes had those altruistic views Stain admires in him and those values seemed to fade as time passed on. It’s why he starts Deku out by cleaning Takoba Beach. Even before Stain, there was a recognition of the world being overrun by heroes with the wrong drives and a need to return to more virtuous motives for being a hero.

As early as chapter two.

What’s happening now is that idea is spreading to more people. Shishikura has a similar desire of not wanting heroes to be terrible. Of course, it’s wrong to say that he’s on the mark about his goal either. His teacher says it’s not wrong for him to be influenced by Stain and tries to prevent him from going on a bad route.

As I said, these kinds of changes usually take a lot of time. It makes sense that we’re only seeing seeds planted for a better society. The world will hopefully see more heroes who are altruistic and aren’t seeking more fame and fortune.

Question #3: Is Stain’s ideal realized in heroes other than All Might and Deku?” 

Answer: Yes.

Were it not for my exceptions this would be a simple discussion about how All Might and Deku are already the type of hero Stain would have wanted. Stain has acknowledged both as worthy heroes in their own right. Instead, I want to focus on a few heroes whose motivations have changed over the course of the series.

You might be shocked by my first example for this. However, I think we got an interesting example of this in Ochako Uraraka. While ultimately altruistic, her initial motivation is to make money. I doubt Stain would treat Uravity’s reasons as little else than a sob story. (”Make money doing something else!”)

Though, her ultimate goal has been to work as a rescue hero like No. 13. Since the Overhaul arc, the money aspect seems to have taken a back seat to rescuing people. After seeing Nighteye die, she’s redoubled her commitment to save people. And, in the Joint Training arc, we see that this includes saving heroes like Nighteye and Deku.

One of the first pro heroes we’re introduced to is Mt. Lady. We learn very early on that her motivation in being a hero is exactly the kind of thing that Stain hated: money, fame, and glory. She’s motivated by the perks of being a pro hero as opposed to doing the good work involved with it. In the anime, Mineta’s work study with her involves maid work. Compare that with Jiro’s work study with her partner Death Arms which involves on-field experience.

However, we start to see a change in her starting with the mission to rescue Bakugo. Originally, she wishes to be part of the flashier job of stopping the League members, as opposed to arguably the more important job of destroying the Nomus, which Best Jeanist calls her out on. Later, as Midoriya’s plan goes off, Mt. Lady steps up to stop the League from recapturing Bakugo. Here she says they ought to prioritize the mission.

Later on in the manga, she helps teach a special class in handling the media. Of course, it’s easy to see that and question how much she’s grown. However, her instruction is about how interviews can help other people, whether they’re heroes, villains, or civilians. The change in demeanor isn’t lost in Mineta.

Here’s where it’s worth mentioning that both my examples so far don’t have direct connections to Stain. Neither were involved in the Hosu incident, pre-occupied with work-study stuff around the same time. As far as we can tell, their changes were more influenced by other events than anything Stain did directly.

Not so with Endeavor.

I think people discount or ignore the impact Stain has had on him. Imagine how Endeavor would feel after meeting with him. After the fact, people will credit you for taking him down. Not only isn’t that true and credit ought to be given to a bunch of high school students. He’s told you to your face that the guy you’ve been spending years trying to beat is the only real hero.

It’s important that Endeavor was present to see the fall of Stain. This is an important moment in his arc towards betterment. It’s not just that doing things the way he is makes him a hero who isn’t considered on the same level as All Might. He’s not considered by some to be a legitimate hero.

That’s why it’s such a big deal that he goes to All Might to figure out what the Symbol of Peace really means when he becomes the de facto top hero. It’s not just a matter of what it means to be the top hero. It’s a matter of becoming a hero worthy of the title itself. 

However, in all of these cases, these are works in progress. And only three at that. This isn’t the world of heroes Stain seems to idealize. The hope is that with good schooling and important events, current and future pro heroes will create a society where fame and fortune aren’t the reasons people become heroes.

[ash-clarington]

WHO: Ash & Dani ( @daniharperdominant​ ) WHEN: forever ago WHAT: rooftop p2- getting to know each other;  that was never posted?? WARNINGS: -

Eleven-thirty had rolled around too quickly. Ash got into bed at around nine and had been struggling to even begin to get sleepy, she had been thinking too much. Too much of wondering what was going on in the new semester at her departed school. It was hard to keep in contact with her friends there, the few she had. Everything there hurt too much. Before the submissive could get sucked into another twenty minute unsolved mystery video, Ash swiped away at youtube and pulled up her texts. She hesitated over Dani's name, considering the option. Dani was, nice but not in a sickly way that made Ash want to vomit. And she was a strong Dominant, or she at least pretended well. Ash didn't really doubt it though, their scene together had settled her for a while, for that week, and not once had she felt unsafe or unengaged. So she sent the text, waited for the order, and head to the roof in and oversized hoodie she had stolen from a friend. His name still sewn in on the tag with a big J as a reminder of him.

Dani had been pleased to hear from Ash again - their scene had been great for her, and it meant the world that not only had the quiet submissive enjoyed herself, she'd even reached out as instructed when she got back to her room.  It felt like progress, even if there was no defined end goal - whatever Ash was looking for, Dani intended to let her find it in her own good time.  It wasn't her job, nor her responsibility, to define that. It was a pleasant surprise to hear from her, and Dani quickly packed up a couple of beers from her fridge and a blanket before heading up the roof, pleased to find the other girl already waiting there.  "Hey, you," she greeted with a smile.  "How are you tonight?"

Ash was halfway through a cigarette when she heard the door click open behind her, she waited until Dani spoke to turn to look at her, hair flying in her face. "Hey." She returned, took another drag and put it out. "I'm..." Ash hesitated for a slight moment, deciding how truthful to be. "Better than last week, Miss." She didn't add the thanks to you. Ash didn't need anyone thinking they held power over her, none that was personally sewn anyway. She was a submissive after all, the power balance itself didn't phase her. "Why are you up late again?" She asked, more directly than the Dominant had.

A smile, slight but there, flickered across Dani's face.  She wasn't going to make a big deal of the answer, or ask for more details, but it was still nice to hear that Ash was doing well.  "I'm really glad to hear it," she nodded before offering a cold beer.  "I don't sleep all that well."  The admission was honest, and she wanted Ash to know she was being open.  "I slept too many places that I couldn't afford to close my eyes for long, and I got used to just getting an hour or two where I could."

Ash took the beer, thanking Dani politely, and twisted the top off. She leaned her weight to the right, peering over the edge. There was an incredibly strong urge to let the bottle cap drop over a group of people, presumably returning from town, below. Striking the thought, Ash pocketed it instead and leaned against the outer wall to take a sip. It was cold, and perfect. "You were homeless." Ash observed aloud, watching Dani. "Before you came here?"

Dani cracked open her own, taking a long sip and sighing with satisfaction as the cold liquid coated her throat.  She hadn't realized quite how much she needed it until just that moment.  "I was.  Not the whole time, but for a while.  My parents weren't all that big on having a lesbian for a daughter, and they didn't want me at home anymore."

It wasn't something Ash could remotely relate to but she absorbed the information and sipped her beer. "Must have been hard." She said, trying to imagine herself in that situation. Her father was strict but she didn't believe he would ever abandon her, not like that.

"It was," Dani agreed, taking another sip of her beer.  "But at the end of the day, I'm glad.  I'd rather have lived through that than lived with parents who didn't want me.  I couldn't have spent that long hiding who I am, and I refused to crawl back into the closet for their comfort.  I'd never have been able to look myself in the eye again."

Ash looked over at Dani, watching her as she spoke. She admired her conviction, Ash didn't know if she would have the strength to fight back or pull so far from her parents like that, despite her families strains, it sounded impossible. The brunette held up her beer to Dani's in a silent cheers to that. the woman seemed relatively sane for someone who not very long ago it sounded had very little structure in her life. A breeze swept through past them, not cold but enough to give Ash a chill, she lowered herself to the roof ground, sitting with her knees up, and leaned against the siding wall to hide from the wind.

Dani raised her bottle as well, thankful for even the silent toast.  She didn't make a big deal about her own struggles, because she knew that she had it better than a lot of people did, but it was always nice when someone was willing to give her a bit of acknowledgement, to concede that she'd gone through a lot and come a long way.  When Ash shivered, Dani moved closer and sat down beside her.  She didn't talk about what she was doing, because that might break the magic of the moment and drive Ash off, but she unfurled the blanket she'd brought and draped it over both of them.

The shared blanket was accepted easily, Ash didn't mind sitting so closely to Dani. In fact she hardly even noticed. "Where did you live before?" The submissive continued to question, trying to picture it. Strange how they'd barely known a thing about each other and yet Ash vividly remembers Dani's lips on hers while the swell of her orgasm was still subsiding. The more information she got though, the more of a mystery the Dominant seemed.

It was a bit of a relief that Ash didn't resist the blanket, because Dani didn't want to have to fight to keep the submissive covered up and warm.  "Austin," she smiled.  Ash wasn't one for unnecessary conversation, and Dani was learning to keep it to a minimum with her.  "That's where my whole family lives...lived, now that my sister and I are both here.  How about you, Ash?  Where did you live?"

"Boca Raton" Ash replied, the sound of it tasting dull in her mouth. She'd never really fit in, not at school, not at home, and certainly not with the sunny beach city attitude. "My parents are Devereux alums." She added. Ash had tried to avoid her father wishes in attending, trying to get out and as far away from her home state as she could but, it hadn't really worked out that way in the end. He always did seem to get his way.

"Oh - you're not far from home, then," Dani observed.  "I think you're the first person I've met who had parents that went here."  She offered it as a point of interest, and not for any further conversation.  Dani was very content to let Ash lead things, so if she had more to say on the subject then that was fine, and if she didn't that was fine too.   Instead she sipped her beer in silence.

Unfortunately not. Ash thought to herself and took a long sip of beer. They sat for a while, it was easy, and Ash found herself gravitating toward Dani, their shoulders pressed together beneath the blanket. After a while of comfortable silence, and another beer each later, Ash finally spoke again. "Do you see yourself claiming before you graduate?" She asked, then followed up quickly "There's no pretense to that."  before her cheeks could go rosy.

"I didn't think there was," Dani promised.  She felt comfortable pressed up against Ash, and the silence that they'd sat in was the good kind rather than the bad - the kind where no one needed to talk, but they both knew the option was there.  "I don't like to say for sure, because you never know what'll happen, but I'm hoping so.  How about you?  Thinking you'll have found a claim before you leave?"

Ash felt her stomach turn and she shifted, pulling a little back and into herself. "That is the plan." It certainly was. It was what was expected of her but at this point, Ash didn't even know if she still wanted it herself. She did before but now the submissive felt cautioned and maybe more than a little apprehensive of the idea. Not that there was much of a choice. Ash could choose to never enter a claim again but the world wasn't set up for someone like that. It would be a lonely existence that she knew. "I guess that's why we're all here."

Dani frowned as Ash seemed to move away.  Clearly that had been the wrong question, or phrased the wrong way, and suddenly the progress they'd made seemed to have all evaporated.  "It is and it isn't, I'd say.  Some people expect to leave here with a claim, some people are here to prepare for the possibility later.  Nothing wrong with it either way."

"Maybe I should start seeing it that way." Ash let slip, humming it under her breath before finishing off her beer. At that current moment it didn't matter and Ash overwhelmingly felt like she didn't want to talk anymore. She set her bottle down and tipped her phone out of her pocket to check the time. "We should go to bed."

"I don't want to tell you what to think.  It's something you need to decide for yourself, not hear from me."  When Ash checked the time Dani took the chance to stretch.  "Only if you want to.  I can grab us another beer, if you want."

Ash's flight response coiled in her chest and she was ready to spring. The brunette had nearly already begun to stand but she made herself stay. It was her own fault for breaking the silence, for always letting her mind wander there, and her inability to make up her own mind about her opinion on the matter. It frustrated her. Perhaps frightened a better word. "One more." She finally agreed and the submissive worked to settle herself, and accepted the drink with a murmured thank you.

Dani wasn't truly sure that Ash would choose to stay, because she was unpredictable and hard to read - in a good way.  But when she breathed out agreement to one last drink, Dani couldn't deny that it made her happy.  "One more," she agreed, passing over a cold bottle and opening one more of her own as she settled back against the wall.  "Are you going to the fair in town?"

Ash gave a shrug and took a long swing. "I've been invited to the haunted house sunday night." She said. Festivals weren't all bad, there were sweets and if Ash found the weather to be nice she would probably do some sketching. "It does give us something to do." She admitted, glad for what promised to be a quieter campus through the week with plenty of the students enjoying out enjoying it.

"Oh cool.  That should be fun - haunted houses can actually be good if they're done right."  Dani smiled and sipped her beer, nodding in agreement with Ash's point.  "Yeah, exactly.  It's a little break from campus life, with a few things to do that we usually can't.  Anything else you're going to check out?  You a fan of fair food?"

She shrugged again. "Not really. I'm more of a chocolate person." Ash said with a quirk of a smile. "Although I do enjoy the kettle corn." Truthfully Ash like the smell more than actually eating it but if she were choosing fair food, while she'd happily nibble a bit of someone's funnel cake, it was all she was really in for. The brunette distracted herself with her drink, and she sagged back into the blankets---and Dani. Despite the effort of conversation the beer and the atmosphere was making Ash warm and, finally, a little sleepy. She leaned against Dani, recalling the other night in the Dominant's bed as she lay her head on the woman's shoulder.

Dani grinned.  "I'll remember that the next time we have one of these rooftop meetings, I'll be sure and bring some chocolate."  When Ash rested against her she tried not to react too obviously or move too much, despite how much it meant to her.  Since their first scene, when Ash had rested against her, it had become something that made Dani feel a little bit triumphant.  She knew she wasn't a perfect Domme, or a perfect person, but she was proud to know that Ash trusted her enough to relax a little.  All that she did in response was to adjust the blankets a little, making sure they were both warm, and settle quietly against the wall.

[nattikay]

So I don’t typically like making personal posts of this type, as I generally come here to escape all that and relax, but at this point I’m just not really sure where else to go with it, all things considered.

Anyways...I’ve been...stressed lately. No, coronavirus isn’t the root cause of it, but it certainly ain’t helping (as I will explain later).

So the first thing I guess...is my younger sister’s wedding tomorrow. To explain why this is a stressor I first have to reveal a bit about myself, a little deeper than I am usually comfortable doing on the internet, and I know it’s ultimately gonna make me sound like...kinda a selfish butthole.

So...I’ve always greatly valued the concept of marriage and family. It’s a value I hold very dear, I always have, and I’ve always wanted to one day get married and have kids of my own. However, I’ve also always struggled hugely with social anxiety, for pretty much as long as I can remember, and needless to say dating does not come easily to me.

For a while, that was ok because I had other goals to work towards in the meantime...getting into my college of choice...getting into their animation program...doing well in my classes...graduating...getting a job...but now I’ve done all those things, and getting married would be the natural next step in life. 

...if I could actually fall in love with someone. 

So I’m stuck. I feel like I’m just treading water, or running in circles. I feel like I can’t progress and it’s scary. But progressing itself, going out and meeting people, opening myself up like that--is also scary. It’s like I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. A lose-lose situation. 

I did have a sort-of boyfriend towards the end of college, but then I graduated and moved away and, well...things are a bit complicated. I still chat with him online now and then, but we only see each other in-person maybe once or twice a year for conventions. And even though we’re still on good terms in a friendly sorta way, given the time and distance I’m not sure whether or not he’s still interested in pursuing that type of relationship with me, nor am I sure how to bring it up without making him feel awkward.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should’ve stayed in Utah after I graduated, found a job there and been able to spend more time with him...but I didn’t...and now a part of me feels like...I dunno....like I missed my chance?

But...all of that’s a tangent...it’s not the only issue...

So anyways...like I said...this is my younger sister’s wedding. For those who don’t know, I’m the oldest sibling in my family. Maybe I wouldn’t feel as stressed if my sister were older than me. But as it is...this is the first time in my life that I haven’t been first to a major life event. And yes, I know, I know it’s not a race, it’s not a competition, etc. etc. etc....I know. But...it’s a reminder.

I’m stuck, and now I’m being “surpassed” and I’m constantly being reminded.

And things seemed to work out so easily for her too. She met this guy less than a year ago and they’re absolutely head-over-heels obsessed with each other. 

and I don’t

understand 

that?

I mean, her fiancé’s a good guy don’t get me wrong, and they’re really happy together and I’m glad of that, but at the same time...watching how they are with each other, how they interact...I don’t...know that I’ve ever felt that? And in my head, I wish I could, it seems like it’d be so nice but...

guys, sometimes I feel like I’m broken.

I feel like I don’t have that capacity to get so excited over a real person the way my sister and her fiancé are about each other.

Not romantically. Not even platonically. 

Except...not quite. I do have some capacity to be all giddy. But...it only ever seems to happen with fictional characters, animals, or plushies.

Never real people. Never real relationships.

and I don’t

understand

why

And quite frankly, I’m terrified, absolutely terrified that that’ll lead me to being forever alone

And yes, I know that some people are perfectly content to live their lives single, and that’s fine and you do you and I’m not gonna judge you or say you’re invalid or whatever; I don’t believe that. But...I don’t think I’m one of those people. Marriage and family is something I hold too dear to my heart to just give up on the idea of having my own.

But...like I said...reminders.

Reminders, reminders, and reminders of one of my weaknesses, one of my struggles, of a concept that utterly frightens me and I have to be around it constantly right now. And when I’m with other people, I have to do it with a smile.

I love my sister, don’t get me wrong. And like I said, her fiancé’s a good guy. I’m glad they’re happy. I don’t want to ruin that for them with my selfish struggles. Just because I’m unhappy right now doesn’t mean I have to drag them down with me. They deserve to have a good time.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not struggling.

So...there. That’s why my sister’s wedding is a stressor for me.

On top of all that...the wedding was supposed to be in April, in Utah. But because of the coronavirus shutdowns, we’ve had to to some last-minute rearrangements, and now it’s tomorrow here in Alabama. This has been extremely stressful on my mom, who really put a lot of dedication into the wedding planning and is bummed that it didn’t work out. She’s been particularly frazzled this past week, constantly scrambling to get all the rearrangements taken care of and terrified that more shutdowns with mess it all up again.

This is why I’m making this post here. Usually I would talk to my mom, or my therapist...but I don’t have another therapy appointment for a few weeks (if it hasn’t been cancelled for the virus) and my mom, well...she has enough of her own problems to deal with right now. I don’t want to burden her with mine.

And then there’s the situation at work. With the whole social distancing thing going on they’re trying to get as many people set up to work remotely as possible. Unfortunately, because of what I do and the way our network works, this entails bringing home my entire computer setup, which is a hassle in itself on merely a physical level. I stuck it out coming into the office longer than most of my coworkers, but my mom texted me today saying that they’re now talking about shutting down all “non-essential” businesses so if I wanted to work at all over the next little bit and not eat up vacation hours I should just bite the bullet and move my setup home. So I did. 

But now there’s another potential problem. I’ve got all the hardware and it should work just fine...but I also need internet connectivity in order to access our pipeline. As we were packing up my stuff, my coworker mentioned that he wasn’t actually sure if the computers had wifi capabilities and that I might have to plug it in directly...which could be a problem, because the internet connection is on the other side of the house from where I’d be working, and even if I moved my setup to that room I’m pretty sure I’d have to unplug the router in order to plug in this computer and then everyone else would lose their wifi...which would really suck with all of us being stuck at home right now, and would be especially detrimental to my dad who is also working from home right now and needs the wifi. 

Granted, I haven’t actually tried to hook it up just yet, so who knows, I might just get lucky and it’ll have wifi capabilities after all...but I don’t know for sure yet.

I mentioned this issue to my mom when I got home today, mostly just to warn her that I might have to make some weird arrangements like a long extensions cord or something (if it doesn’t in fact have wifi). Alas, that turned out to be a mistake...like I said, my mom’s already really stressed with the wedding stuff and a potential work computer problem just added fuel to the fire and then she started stressing about that too even though it’s not really a thing she needs to be worrying about, it’s my problem to figure out...but nonetheless I felt pretty guilty for making her feel even more stressed that she already was.

I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t get my work computer connected at home. I guess just bring it back to the office...but that’s assuming people with still be allowed in the building at all come next week. I just...I dunno man. I don’t know.

All this mess has led to me starting to experience certain anxiety symptoms that I haven’t really dealt with since I first went on my medication a few years ago, which means the stress is getting bad enough to...override the meds a bit. I guess. idk, the symptoms haven’t been too severe but the fact that they’re there at all...hng.

If you made it through this whole mess, congrats, I’m impressed

tl;dr

everything’s a mess, everyone’s stressed, I have anxiety and I don’t know who to talk to

not really looking for advice so much as just somewhere to vent and maybe some comfort, idk

Thanks for your time

-NattiKay

[caitlinclark]

Nahikari García: “With Vero I saw that it was possible to reach the top.”

The forward born in Urnieta, top scorer of Real Sociedad in recent years, has also found in medicine a great calling.

"Did you come to Donosti just for the interview?" Asks Nahikari García, forward and one of Real Sociedad’s captains, when the over than 40 minutes of talk conclude. That humility surprises. That tone of surprise. On the other side of the window of the Harrobi de Zubieta cafeteria, it doesn’t stop raining heavily. It is inevitable to comment on the typical - and topical - weather of the Basque Country. “Last week we played against Atlético de Madrid and the National Team teammates always ask me that if it is very bad, that if it is this, that if it is the other ... And they came and it was very sunny! A great weekend!” She says smiling.

While I collect the pages full of questions, Núria - who has been taking photos the entire time - is interested in the forward’s musical taste and readings. “I really like reading. I read Dime quién soy and I really liked it. About music, I like Leiva, ” says Nahikari. From there, a small tour around the facilities of the Ciudad Deportiva begins, with the aim of concluding the photoshoot. We talked about her injury, how could it be otherwise, and one of the physiotherapists makes an appearance. "I doubt you take it well," she says jokingly while Nahikari remains facing the camera.

But the fact that we are there, not only responds to Nahikari being the top scorer of Real in recent years. Nor to have debuted with the absolute selection. The young attacker born in Urnieta, beyond a rival’s goal, has a medicine career in her eyes. Forging in this profession with the aim of exercising when she stops scoring goals. And that is why, 45 minutes before, I decided to start the talk with that topic.

Is it hard to combine football and studies considering that you’re studying Medicine?Well, I don’t know if it’s because I study Medicine but it’s true that lately it has been. When I started the career I was already at Real, but the demand has been bigger in the past few years. Also because women’s football has changed so much this past few seasons and it demands more hours to train, more requirements. Being with the National Team, it also takes away your free time. It gets harder to combine but I’m not in a hurry either.

And it’s 6 or 7 years... And then the MIR... All that if you’re up to date... You see...

And then, when you finish your career, what do you have in mind? Well, I’m not thinking about that yet because I know that it’s something that’s gonna take some time. Besides, I still see myself playing football for years. If everything goes well, I have more seasons to play. Now my goal is to finish my career and then when it’s time for the MIR, I’ll prepare for that. It’s true that life goes around but I would like to carry out my specialty and do that in the future.

So, that specialty is sports medicine? Yes. I like that because it’s what I know and what I see here. I think that we’ll see later on. Once you get into that world, you see and work in different specialties... However, in my head there are a lot of projects that I would like to try. Of course I would like to be connected to the sport because I love it, but I don’t know. Maybe I could be in a club, in a hospital or also at an ONG around the world.

Man, that last one... That would be really good!

With the growth there is in women’s football, have you thought about putting your studies in hold? Putting it on hold, no. Taking it more slowly, yes. For example, I don’t take every class every year. But I wouldn’t like to put it on hold. Although sometimes I can only take one class, I don’t want to leave it because once you do that, you disengage and it’s like you ignore it. So even if it’s little by little, I would like to always do something.

In most interviews, you talk about helping and learing. Are those the main reasons why you chose Medicine? Yes! To learn, no doubt. I like knowing new things and learning. And they say doctors don’t have much relationship with the patient, but I do like that part more human. Being close, lending a hand... At the end, it comes from home. My mom is a nurse and I’ve seen it since I was a kid. It’s something that always caught my attention. It’s a calling. No doubt.

The growth in women’s football and your studies have led you to make a lot of sacrifices, according to what you’ve said in other interviews. I’m not asking about what’s been the boggest sacrifice, but which one has hurt you the most? I don’t think they’re sacrifices as such. At the end, I do this because I like it. I see more as a bet. My luck is to be at home. I’ve played at Real my entire life but evidently, you miss out on important moments like family meetings or with friends... In my case, I couldn’t be at my grandfather’s funeral because I was at the World Cup in Costa Rica. Evidently, you think: “fuck”. Football gives me a lot, but it also takes a lot. I’m very happy to be where I am and to choose what I’ve chosen. And I don’t see neither my friends nor my family as often as I would like. Or my little cousins. - She laughs - My cousin always says: “Fuck, everyone tells me how cool it is that Nahikari is my cousin but I don’t like it because she’s training every day and I can’t see her.”

To dedicate to Medicine, you have to be cold blooded, precision on the diagnosis and treatment, not making mistakes... Is that very similar to playing as a forward? I was just about to say that! The comparison is good. Maybe, yeah. If you miss, the focus is on you, and on the other hand, if you got it right, you’re the best. And in that, with medicine there’s a lot of similarities. In both cases you have to know how to deal with the pressure and with those critical moments. One thing will help me with the other! I’ll nbecome an expert on this.

With a lot of people, and independently if you're successful or not, you start playing at parks and at school. But where does your passion for footbal begin? Well, it comes from home. My dad is a very big football fan. And so is my brother, even if he denies it! So that passion began at home. We had a park near and we met up with my brother’s friends there. We spent the entire day kicking the ball. Plus I would tell my dad: “Aita, I wanna go train. Let’s go train”. And he was there. Football is very vocational, You either like it or not. You live it or you don’t live it and me, for one thing or another, well it’s been my calling since I was a kid.

You started playing at Añorga when you were 9. Always as a forward? Yes, always. I was the smallest... Small and fast! So I think they put me as a forward to run.

In Añorga’s first team you’re from 14 to 16. In fact, you made your debut when you were 14... How was the debut? Well, we were in the Second Division and that was a great year where we won the league and we played the play-off for the promotion to First Division... It was very progressive because they really wanted to take care of me. Besides, I was also starting with the National Team. Euskadi’s as well as Spain’s. It was a lot of  jogging and the coach I had back then, Juanjo, handled it very well. I was playing only halves at the beginning until there was a point where I said “fuck”. I was training, I was doing it very well... In the second round I started playing more and in the play-off I was in the starting lineup.

You talked in an interview that you never have to lose focus so you can stay on track. Where is Nahikari’s focus now? On continuing to grow and, above all, not losing that ambition to want to achieve important challenges. I don’t know how, when or where. But I do want to keep feeling that I’m moving forward and growing. I have goals and dreams to fight for. I think it’s always important having something worth fighting for, not getting comfortable and get carried away. I have that in mind and I know I have a long way to go, a lot to grow and a lot to still do in football. I work for that.

You also mention that you have to choose your role models very well, in case you lose focus. Who are yours? Well, beyond the people around you in the locker room, I’m very lucky to coincide in the National Team with people who have a lot of experience. For example, Vero (Boquete). I think they’re people who are doing very well in women’s football and so I look at that. That they’re very humble and hard-working people who have paved their path and, from there, they’re growing.

There’s a story in another interview that I really liked. Your mom came home with a newspaper with Vero in double page and that gave you strength to keep going... Yeah. It’s true. It made me realize that it was possible to reach the top. Nowadays we’re much more accesible and it’s easier to see that you can make it. But back then, I didn’t have many role models that were women players and professionals that were living from this. Seeing it there made me see that there were people who had made it and they pulled forward. It gave me hope. To say: “Nahikari... Go ahead with your drea, because it’s possible”.

You’re a Real fan... A Real fan...

A very big Real fan... Yes, yes!

That, in a game, does it help or is it worse? I mean, beyond the concentration itself, there’s an emotional component. Yes! Definitely. I have very strong feelings towards the club but also a very important one towards the team. We’ve managed to create a feeling of union and companionship that makes you fight for it. You’re not only fighting for the badge but also for a common goal that we set up. You say “Fuck... I run for me, but also for the one next to me. This is for all of us.” But obviously, that feeling is worse because you suffer so much more. When you win, everything is great; but when you lose, it hurts you so much more. And it’s, precisely, for that feeling of commitment and for everything that surrounds you. It’s important to manage it and revitalize it on several occasions.

The great knock that it is to win the Copa de la Reina. After doing that, did you feel like from that moment onwards people were going to expect so much more from you all? Yes. Definitely. Especially people from the outside. At the end, a lot of people have known us for years but others know us because they saw us winning the Copa. So, it seems like the demand is to win the league or to be in the Champions League, That’s why I think it’s important that we keep our feet on the ground and be aware of where we come from, what we’ve achieved and the path that we want to continue. All of this, of course we’re talked about and worked with our coach. I think we have to grow from having our feet on the ground and having clear goals. We want to be at the top but without driving ourselves crazy. Obviously, we’re the first ones that want to win every weekend and continue to grow. And we’re the first ones that would love to win the league but we have to be aware of where we are and where we come from. But, definitely, the ambition is intact.

Let’s go to that final then. The end of the game, that’s clear. Everything is euphoric. But at half time, with the game tied 1-1, how was it? Courage, silence... Well... we were silent because we were so tired! I remember half time, sitting in the ground and saying: “My God, we’re suffering so much”. In the first half we suffered a lot and in the second half we were better. The message was that we could win. With 1-1- at the half we had the game where we wanted it. We knew we were gonna get our chance and we had to keep holding on. And we did!

Finals hadn’t treated you very well... No...

Until this one. When you get the ball and you see yourself in that position, do the ghosts from the past come back? I say it because of that fatal mistake in the 2016 Euros... No. No way. I didn’t think in that moment. But it’s that, I had it clear that that ball was going in. I didn’t have any doubts about how I was gonna hit it or that kind of stuff. It was all very natural and super normal. I saw it clear. I knew where the ball was gonna go.

After the goal... were you aware of what you’d done? No! Not at all!

In that moment with all the players during the celebration, what do you say? You just made a comeback! Well, we told each other that we had to hold on! Cold head and keep doing the same. Because we knew we were doing very well and we didn’t have to change anything. Not to park the bus but not going forward too much either. Put pressure when we had to put pressure and hold on when we had to hold on. 

From the front, how did you see Sun’s saves? Pf... suffering a lot. But we knew Sun was gonna hold us. She had been doing it all season and you saw her. I told her. That day she was super hyper motivated. She was with a lot of energy and when Sun is like that, you know she’s gonna have a great game.

Is it the best moment in your sports career? I’ve had really good and happy moments but I’d never felt such a feeling. Making my debut with the National Team was amazing. Playing the World Cup was amazing. But being able to culminate that moment with a goal... that was very powerful.

Last year and this year there’s been interest from other teams. First PSG. How real was that interest, considering the classic rumors during the transfers window? Fuck it was real... It’s because we played a tournament here. At the beginning everything looked like a movie. First, who was gonna tell me that PSG was gonna come to play a tournament here at Zubieta. Then, who was gonna tell me that they were gonna notice me and have the interest to sign me. In fact, we joked about it at home: “Can you imagine if a team like this comes here someday?” And when they did, well it was weird. Me, at first, I didn’t believe it, but there were talks between the clubs. At the end, it didn’t work out and I ended up winning the Copa at the end of the season.

And then it was Atlético. Were you close to leaving? You wanted the whole thing to end before the World Cup. Yeah, yeah. Defnitely. When we talked about the goal to grow, I’ve never lied to people from the outside nor to the people from the club. I would like to grow and live other experiences. If Real offers me that, then let’s do it. We’ll stay together and very happy. And as long as I’m here, I’ll give everything for this club. At that point, everything that had happened in the Copa and everything that that generated made me decide to stay. Everything was talked with the club. They’ve told me that when I feel the need to leave, they’ll open the doors. That reassures me. But I don’t know when that will be and if it’ll happen or not, because life changes a lot.

We’re moving to the National Team and it’s inevitable to think about the miss in that final vs France in the 2016 Euros. That has been talked about a lot. I’m interested the next game or games, when you have another clear chance. Did that miss become too much? Well, after that we had vacations and then I went back to Real. I tried to not give it too much importance and keep playing. I didn’t want to think about it again. But at the end, even if you don’t want to, you realize that your confidence isn’t the same. But I worked on it because I was aware of that. And I managed to change the situation! I think that a moment like the one I went through hurts you, yes, but it also helps you grow.

I read that you went to a sports psychologist... Yes, I was working with him.

At what point do you realize that you needed that kind of help? Well, I realized during the season. I was getting sick, injured... Things that I thought: “Fuck. What’s going on, Nahi?” Well, it was the lack of confidence. I knew that my character had taken me, in big part, to everything that I’d achieved and when I saw it diminished I said: “Nahikari. Something is going on with you and we have to fix this”. After that I started working. To be honest, it helped me a lot. Especially to relativize important situations. I grew and learned a lot from those moments.

Then, after that, you go two years without going to the National Team and you had coincided with Jorge Vilda. Did you talk to him about that absence? When the mistake in Slovakia happened, he was there with me and everyone protected me and they gave me their total confidence, a lot of love and we talked. But in those two years that I didn’t get called up, there wasn’t any explanation... He didn’t have to give me one either! Because I knew it was about my performance. When he called me up, it was because he believed I was in a good moment. With Jorge, we’ve always had a close relationship and we’ve talked about many things. I think he trusts me too, but I don’t think he has to explain to me why I wasn’t called up during that time 

Either way, you came back in a big way at the Wolrd Cup in France. In fact, you and Lucía (García) coming in against South Africa, changed the course of the game. What does it feel to get to the locker room knowing that you were a big reason for the first win Spain had in a World Cup? Well, it was a rush. Being able to win the first game in a World Cup is very important. It seemed like everyone was counting that we were gonna do it, but the games have to be played. Spain was coming off from not winning any games in the last World Cup. We knew it was a clear goal and I lived it with the same happiness as the rest of my teammates. With the plus that I made my debut in a World Cup.

Against China, you qualified for the knockout stage. Was it bittersweet, that qualification, knowing you had to play the US? Yes... But mostly because of the feeling we had. We had a great feeling against Germany... Of playing football so well...Of competing so well... But China parked the bus, you have chances but you can’t score. Our goal at the World Cup was to make it past the group stage. We were very happy for reaching that goal but then you know that you have to play the US and it’s a hard.

Against the US we lose in a very unfair way. Did it hurt more losing that game than a final that you’ve played? Yes and no. Because at the end, it makes you very angry losing and leaving the World Cup like that. It was a general rage because we have a very competitive locker room. We went to win that game and it didn’t matter who was in front. At the end, we had a feeling of knowing we were getting close because we competed against them. It makes you see that you’re doing things well... But it makes you very angry. Especially after they scored two very unfair penalties. But I don’t know if it’s worse than losing a final!

And frankly, after a few hours or days have gone by, what positive conclusions do you draw for the next Euro? Because I imagine you drew some... Of course... Besides those games give you a lot of growth. We’re a very young National Team that was playing in their second World Cup. Doing it like that is very good and we have to be aware of where we come from and have our feet on the ground. From there, keep going and a lot of ambition. We’re a very ambitious group and we have to do it as best as possible. The World Cup, we take it as experience and now the focus is on qualifying for the Euros.

Well, we leave football, Nahikari. Let’s go with other type of questions. First about your personality... You say you have very bad temper. Yeah... - She laughs -

But that has given you a lot of success. Yes! That too!

And any bad moments? Well, yeah... But because I’m very competitive and I have a lot of character. But you learn from that too, For example, you have to manage how you say things. Sometimes, how I’ve said things hasn’t been in a good way and that has given me more than one conflict that you work out and just leave it at that. But since I got here at 16 years old until now that I’m 22, I’ve always had bad temper. But I think I’ve leanrt to manage it and reduce it!

Beyond fighting, you’ve reiterated a lot that you’re here to learn. What lesson has Nahikari learnt on and off the pitch? Well, I’ve learnt so many things in that way... For example, to believe. My team, last year, taught me to believe. Without a doubt. If you believe in something firmly, you can achieve it. That’s how the Copa de la Reina came. And also, that you always get another chance. And especially as a forward. I stay with that too. There will always be another chance, another game, another moment. You learn many things in football! But this sport has also taught me that it’s the least important thing out of everything that I care about in life. That there’s life after football. You come back home and your family and friends are waiting. You have to give value to all these aspects. I’ve always thought about things too much and I give football a lot of importance... So you have to know to differentiate well and know that you have a life when training or a game ends.

And when you finish training or playing and you leave Zubieta, how is Nahikar’s day when she doesn’t have to go to college either? Well I’m a very calm person. I like being with my family and friends. Go to Donosti and walked around the beach. I also like reading and listening o music. Especially laughing. I like being with people that I love and I love talking! Have interesting conversations and laugh a lot.

I’ve gone through all the questions that I prepared and we’ve talked a little about the injury... Núria. Do you want to ask something? Because it’s raining a lot... We’re not gonna see Donosti much... Did you come to Donosti just for the interview?