#which i think is very against elf biology

[deletedelight]

canon is a fucking liar btw kabru and mithrun are best friends 4lyfers every once in a while mithrun comes knocking at his door like Kabru we are going fishing and he cant say no bc his weird fucked up bff finally found a new passion for life (going fishing every other day like a middle aged white dad)

[runawaymun]

For the Silm ask game: 🐉 (I feel like this one has your name all over it)

🐉 A lot of figures in the Silm have weird Eldritch powers or possibly biology. Tell us about your headcanons for one.

I feel like I don't talk about Elros enough, so here are some Elros headcannons!

Elros glows just like Elrond does, but not as brightly, and while Elrond starts to become less physically solid when he is upset/dissociating, for Elros this happens at moments of high emotion in general, (kind of the way Elrond's glowing happens at moments of high emotion in general), hence the name.

Elros' foresight is super strong and very intrusive. He's also very good at interpreting his visions & has really good intuition when it comes to helping others make sense of their dreams. Elrond would always ask his advice whenever he was dealing with his own visions -- which made things really difficult once Elros was no longer around to ask :(

This gets into the weirder Eldritch Peredhil headcannons, but Elros (and Elrond, too, if he tried) -- and everybody descended from him in varying degrees -- are excellent divers, able to both go without air longer and withstand much more pressure and lack of light and oxygen than a man or elf. That comes down to the maiar ability of altering form. In the most basic and practical and perhaps weirdest sense, this comes down to collapsible lungs (the kind that deep-sea whales have -- yay shapeshifting!), the ability to get rid of cranial sinuses (less air pockets in the body to get crushed under immense pressure), and the production of piezolytes, which stabilize proteins at a molecular level against high pressure. That's from the Maiar biology -- they need 'em to help them shapeshift into those bigger sizes. Does the science science? IDK probably not but I think it's cool. He also doesn't experience claustrophobia in the deep ocean or in tight spaces the way an elf or a human might. The bit of Elros that's Melian enjoys shadowy places :) They feel cozy. :) Elros feels very at home in deep water and loves to swim.

[moviemunchies]

So, uh, that was… not good.

A couple of years back the team behind the Netflix adaptation of The Witcher announced that they were doing a prequel mini-series that tells the story of the Conjunction of Spheres (an important event in the backstory of The Witcher) and the creation of the first proto-Witcher. It was written and filmed as six episodes, but somewhere along the line it was cut down to four episodes, and after some reshoots it was finally released Christmas Day 2022.

The result is a disjointed mess. Let me start by saying the good things: the performances are good for what they are. The performers aren’t given much good material, but they’re doing well with what they have. None of the blame here lies with them, and at least a couple of them are pretty fun to watch on screen. I particularly liked Francesca Mills as Meldof. She’s clearly having a ball with her role.

Fight scenes are pretty good throughout. Not all of them are, insanely good, but they’re pretty good. Scian’s first fight scene is pretty awesome though, which is kind of what you’d expect from Michelle Yeoh. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed in the fight scenes if you decide to watch this series. Unless you’re expecting realistic tactics and strategy, but I’ve learned that you should never expect that from Hollywood.

I AM intrigued in how some of the characters in this will pop back up later. Eredin and Avallach appear here, and they’re important characters in the overall storyline of The Witcher. No, they’re not well-utilized here, but they’re not bad characters and I want to see them moving forward.

Other than that, though? This show feels like a SyFy Original Movie from back in the day. That’s not the worst thing, but it’s also very much not a good thing. When the narrator isn’t telling us obvious things, like counting for us every time someone joins the group of heroes, most of the character backstories are told to us through infodump conversations. So much of this story is just characters standing around talking. I’m supposed to be getting the idea of seven heroes standing up to and leading a revolution against a tyrannical empire (itself not a particularly inspired storyline, despite the series acting like it is), but it’s bogged down by so much talking and lack of interesting characters that it’s just… boring, most of the time?

It’s a shame because these are ideas that really could do with a great prequel treatment! How DID someone come up with the idea for making something like a Witcher? In the series, Syndril just decides somehow that using the heart of an extradimensional monster and bonding it to an elf will create a hardcore warrior who can kill monsters better? Or something?? It doesn’t make a lick of sense to me, especially since Syndril’s expertise seemed to be in hopping dimensions and artifacts, not biology. And then we finally get the Conjunction of Spheres at the end, which is an accident and seems to be more of an afterthought to the story.

And if you think it skimps on those major world-changing events, wait until we get to things like the love story between the two leads!

The story does absolutely nothing with the fact that none of its characters are human–aside from Meldorf, they’re all elves. Except the elves all act exactly like humans do in the main series, and the only indication that they’re not human is that they have pointy ears and refer to each other as elves. All the magic and wonder of their culture is just… absent, it seems. And apparently when elves had their golden age, they were exactly the same in their douchery as the humans who later took over the Continent, just to dwarves instead. It doesn’t feel like it’s leaning into the themes of the world as much as that the writers couldn’t think of anything unique to do with this story.

I am not a massive fan of The Witcher to begin with, though I do like it, but The Witcher: Blood Origin? It’s bad. It’s embarrassing, really. I don’t know if it would have been good had it been six episodes (I suspect not, because not every problem is a pacing issue), but I would like to think it would have been better. I sincerely hope that if there are more spin-offs they’re better than this.

[hadesoftheladies]

Thank you for proving my point @pssp and @saraptor . I truly have no doubts of what this industry looks like from a social standpoint.

There is no evidence JK Rowling is racist or anti-Semitic. She has consistently defended POC and advocated against racism. The man, a comedian by the name Jon Stewart, who mentioned he thought her goblins were Jewish caricatures on a podcast, said, “he wasn’t calling Rowling personally antisemitic, nor does he think the ‘Harry Potter��� books and movies — which he loves ‘probably too much for a gentleman of my considerable age’ — require any changes.”

Amber Heard is a victim of domestic violence and horrific abuse whose violent and misogynistic ex-husband successfully silenced her. Depp is a self-professed misogynist and abuser. Amber had plenty of evidence of his guilt. He joked about raping his ex-wife’s dead burnt corpse. Amber sobbed in court as she recounted him raping her with a glass bottle during a fight.

Even if (and it’s almost statistically impossible) Amber and Depp mutually abused each other (rather than Depo being the abuser and Amber using self-defense) the public response to Amber was WAY BEYOND INAPPROPRIATE FOR THE SUBJECT MATTER ALONE. People made fun of her brutal testimony saying she should have enjoyed it in millions of TikToks, they absolutely made jokes of rape and memes of Amber’s abuse and reduced this very serious situation to a porn-fantasy joke. Just because Amber was deemed a socially acceptable punching bag. This level of public vitriol hasn’t occurred on this scale, let alone to more deserving male celebrities.

This is how you Depp-stans sound:

Where has she been violent? Please give me even ONE example of how she has been violent in anything?

What is transphobic about anything she has said? She affirms the science of sex in biology. She acknowledges the difficulties of women and lgbt people. Even if she disagrees with gender ideology (and why should anyone believe in gender as a material reality? Why should anyone accept that sex is a spectrum when there is no scientific evidence that it is?) she has done so in the most respectful way. She hasn’t called for any beatings or arrests. She has advocated kindness and mutual respect. She has stated what we have all observed to be true: transwomen are male (or they would not be trans) and transmen are female. How is this hateful? If this distinction isn’t valid, doesn’t that mean that a cisgender woman can just as easily identify as a trans woman?

Additionally Beira’s Place, the shelter that JKR FUNDS HERSELF, is exclusionary to amab’s. It is female-only. It isn’t trans-exclusionary since transmen can go there (unless you don’t consider transmen valid?). Also, there are plenty of rape shelters in that same area that cater to transwomen. Beira’s Place is single-sex space and that is a minority in that area.

She isn’t simply some arrogant flaunter of her money. She lost her billionaire status due to donating huge amounts of money to charities while paying off massive taxes. That’s not common for billionaires btw, if you haven’t noticed.

I don’t know about the Scottish-independence thing, but I’ll check it out for sure. Thanks for letting me know. But it isn’t why she’s received so much backlash.

The house-elf example doesn’t necessarily refer to racism and has also been called an allegory of the housewife. Her mentioning the house-elf’s “liked it” doesn’t mean she approved of their servitude. It was more likely that she was talking about their mental enslavement where they associated their mistreatment as “rightness” just because of the brainwashing they’d undergone as slaves. Kerature is an example of this. He doesn’t believe his liberation is a good thing as opposed to Dobby who overcame his brainwashing. Why would an author who celebrates diversity even when it costs her (writing Dumbledore as gay and approving of black actresses playing white characters) suddenly be so pro-slavery? It’s just bad analysis.

In conclusion, both the Amber and Joanne examples show how easy it is for myriads of people to be swept in trendy, faddy social media mantras to the detriment of justice and critical thinking (especially because they’re women). You have both made false and exaggerated claims of two unfairly vilified women. You are part of the reactionary crowd that is rising up against women of all kinds all over the world. JKR specifically opened up the door for so many diverse women and people in publishing. Most YA books written by POC or LGBT people can sell because of the work she has done.

So I’ve been working on an epic fantasy series for the past four years, and this JK Rowling thing has honestly made it real for me.

I’m trying to break into a male/white-dominated genre as a black, feminist woman. Whatever few advantages I do have (my voice, perspective and style being unique as an East African for example, or getting special spotlight from liberals who want to “celebrate poc authors” just because they’re poc) are thrown into complete uncertainty because of my beliefs.

For one, I’m a radical feminist. So I’ve already pissed off white liberals and white conservatives, which, let’s be honest, are the largest contributors and consumers to and in the fantasy sphere. Looking at what’s happening to Rowling and even Chimamamanda, I have no confidence people will be normal about my beliefs. For example, everytime I criticize gender, even online, white liberals accuse me of being pro-colonialism and imperialism, despite me literally growing up in a neocolonial state, having a national independence the same age as my dad, and having grandmothers and grandfathers who were slaves, and the children of people thrown into concentration camps. I’m talked over by white liberals and the moment they can successfully label me a terf, I’m successfully censored as a small artist and critic of oppressive systems. They are so willing to put down pocs that don’t agree with every little thought because their anti-racism has been solely performative.

And I am a feminist, which is high on the list of “most likely to piss off white man.” The increase of anti-woman propaganda, the increase of violence in that propaganda, the virtual and social “witch-hunting and burning”, the insane vitriol spewing from the mouths of men who only wanted a socially acceptable target to spill all their hate on: Brie Larson, Amber Heard, Joanne Rowling, and all sorts of female artists and professionals.

And what about my gay/lesbian/bisexual/transsexual characters and complex egalitarian/matriarchal societies? My books would be banned by my own government to the jubilation and relief of its majority Christian and Muslim population. In East Africa, homophobia is on the up and up. So what I’m looking at is virtually no support.

Unless I keep quiet about everything I believe about the world and myself. But how do you do that? How do you tell yourself “I’ll set aside the very urgent activism that needs to be done for the sake of profit?” How do you feign silence on the oppressed communities and the mistreatment of their humanity? For profit? It would be like cutting off my arm.

But I can’t not make my art. And I can’t not give it. And I can’t not live my life according to what I believe. I am passionate about justice and social change as I am passionate about my craft. How can I give either of them up?

Anyway, I’m gonna do it. Of course. Sales be damned. I doubt I’ll go with a pseudonym, because my books are mine, and my ethnic name is a rarity and victory in itself in the genre. I can’t give that up. I’ll have to be strategic but I have to live my life independent of the world’s regression. How else am I supposed to create a sanctuary for myself and other’s like me? I cannot wait for oppressors to grow a conscience.

Nevertheless, I’m gonna have a lot of banned books and in just my 20s! The amount of censorship will render me a literature outlaw all over the world! :)))) If I ever get a Wikipedia page, it’s going to be hella exciting and one helluva cautionary tale.

[tropiyas]

(my longest analysis post so far, get ready)

I don't know how to write about this in a way that's not too weird, but recently, Dungeon Meshi has been good at making you feel uncomfortable. I really appreciate Kui for challenging the reader like that - it shakes you out of auto-pilot and is a sort of "speed bump" for the story beats if you're reading too fast, and makes you appreciate the manga as a whole:

The main villains of the story are established to be the Demons (in DM's fantasy setting, they are an eldritch entity a class above regular sentient species/monsters that the main characters deal with). Rather than eating other creatures or people, their main food is desire - they come from an alternate dimension of infinite mana where desire doesn't exist, so they set up in the titular dungeons to cultivate+feed on adventurer's desires (for gold/fame/immortality/etc).

This is all very abstract, of course, compared to eating fantasy creatures based on IRL organisms - how would you "eat" someone's desire? A standard approach would be a creature sucking on/eating someone's brain, which is the typical organ you'd think of with regards to a person's desire. But that's too realistic and rooted in biology, so Kui decided to make it much more physically disconcerting.

So far, we've seen two demons feast on a persons desire, and each time it was very disturbing - the demon pins down the victim, phases into the victim's abdomen, and starts eating away at the desire. The act itself is depicted very physically, but the victims don't experience any bodily harm, they're just screaming at the demon because they know they're losing part of themselves and can't resist (one of the first things a demon eats is a victim's desire to resist). To me, it 100% reads as an allusion to sexual assault and definitely made me shift uncomfortably as I read and digested what the author's showing me.

Okay, so with these moments, Kui definitely wants to tell the reader "Demons are definitely the bad guys in this story, they should not coexist with our main dimension if their entire diet relies on cruelty to sentient peoples." But how do exactly do you stop demons? The Elves, being a long lived race, seem to have decent experience with dealing with dungeons and defeating demons before they become too strong.

In DM Chapter 74, Kui hits us with ANOTHER set of uncomfortable moments since our protagonists are dealing with a demon that is about to become too strong (it just ate a ton of desire and is about to be unsealed from its tome, two events which we've never seen before). Mithrun, the captain of the Canaries (a demon-hunting party of elves), is the victim pictured above, who somehow managed to survive his encounter because the goat left him with a desire for revenge against demons. So, Mithrun is unhinged and wants to stop the current dungeon's demon by any means, and when he finds out that our main half-elf protagonist Marcille is in possession of the tomes containing the demon, he's ignoring all boundaries.

Mithrun is a victim of a demon, and wants to stop Marcille from being another victim, but his mix of desperation and trauma (I headcanon he's lost the desire to be sensitive/kinder to other people which ends up w/ shit like this) has resulted in even more unsettling behavior that STILL makes the reader go "woah, shit dude" even though we're on his side! Kui's basically reaffirming "the demons are a severe enough threat that someone with personal experience with one is going this far to stop another."

Mithrun's party members end up pulling him away (which makes sense, none of them even know if Marcille has the tomes on her person, and they want to defuse the situation). This gives Marcille just enough time to release the demon, and I'll let these last few panels circle back to what I meant at the beginning of this post.

This new tone is a far cry from the beginning of the manga, which was 90% whimsical adventures about eating fantasy foods. BUT, the best part of Kui's storytelling is that she's still keeping to the theme of eating (this yoked up motherfucker is just trying to devour his next meal even if it is Bad), so the progression between the light/dark moments of Dungeon Meshi is totally natural as the conflict revolves around who eats whom.

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Love Breeds Love Isendain Edition

So, I have a porny universe called Love Breeds Love where the premise is that settlements across the Northern Kingdoms are being founded with the intent to save the elven race from extinction.

Now, for Iorveth and Roche, we discover that the settlement they're living in (Aiseirigh meaning rebirth/resurrection) is dedicated to doing this through accepting half-elves and creating more half-elves, because humans are very good at breeding. This means adjusting their culture as they share it, because half-elves and humans have their own experiences they're bringing to the settlement.

For some elves, that is simply not acceptable. They don't want human blood to taint their 'purity'. So they commit to working with elven couples to make babies. Their birth rate is much lower, but they argue that their product is better. (For the record: when you hear this kind of rhetoric, run. It's VERY eugenicist and suuuuuper racist).

Isengrim and Eldain both find themselves at one of the latter settlements (which I haven't named yet oops). They don't arrive together, though. In fact, they hadn't expected to see each other at all, though it's nice to see that rumors of each other's deaths were greatly exaggerated.

Because of the way I've made elven biology work, it's really important for the volunteers at this pure elven settlement choose a partner and really get to know them, get comfortable with them. This increases their chances of conception actually happening. I haven't actually decided if only one or both get pregnant, but they did decide to have some 'practice sex', to ensure their comfort. XD

I'll stick a bit of the WiP under a cut, but the really fun thing about this 'verse (aside from literally just being an excuse for breeding kink) is that the two settlements have to actually MEET at some point. At which point, rorveth and isendain discover each other and have a variety of reactions.

'cause see, Eldain doesn't like humans and he doesn't trust humans. He's made that mistake before and he refuses to do it again. So he is perfectly happy with the idea of living amongst elves and never having contact with a filthy human again.

But life isn't that easy and Isengrim and Iorveth are still old friends, though it's definitely awkward at first. But over time, Roche becomes the first human that Eldain actually feels comfortable around and they become bros. They most definitely bond over being feral raccoon disasters while their partners are fancy shmancy proper and polished types lmao. Oh, also, Iorveth and Eldain may both be musicians, but they despise each other's genres XD

I mentioned that this universe was just an excuse to write porn, right? So I've got a whole arc planned for isendain to meet up and bond with rorveth, but first, they all gotta get bred, 'cause that's the premise of the 'vese lmao. So this first isendain fic is the set up - establishing the settlement, getting them together, going through the breeding ceremony, etc. The sex is unfortunately fighting me during the 'practice sex' stage, but eventually, this will be a nice, long smutty piece. For now, though, here's them actually meeting again.

He’d arrived at the settlement alone, responding to a notice on saving the elven race, and he’d been astonished at how many people had actually shown up to do this. Of course, out of the thirty elves that had come to be bred, only a small portion would actually be able to conceive.

Eldain swallowed, wondering if he’d be one. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping that he would or that he wouldn’t, honestly, but hell, he was already here. He couldn’t back out now.

Which meant he had to find himself a partner. The notice had specified that single volunteers were welcome along with couples that were willing to conceive, but the first thing the elf who greeted him when he’d arrived had said was, “pick someone and get to know them. The actual breeding will not begin until this evening, but it’s important that you spend some time with your partner and become comfortable with them.”

Eldain had nodded, aware that feeling safe and comfortable was essential for elves to produce viable eggs and for them to be able to conceive. But he hadn’t realized just how many people there were and how daunting trying to choose one stranger out of two dozen would be.

So when he spotted the scarred man with dark hair that stood about two inches above everyone else, Eldain’s first emotion was relief. In more than one way, because this was someone he actually knew, but also, he’d heard that the other elf was dead. Of course, they’d likely heard the same about him, so Eldain shook himself and strode towards the famed Iron Wolf.

When he got closer, it became apparent that he was not the only one who had recognized Isengrim Faoiltiarna, because several other elves were circled around him, trying to persuade him to pick them.

The feeling in Eldain’s stomach was not jealousy, nor was it disappointment. It wasn’t like Isengrim was likely to choose him amongst all these choices. Hell, when they’d met in the past, he’d gotten the impression that Isengrim tolerated him at best.

Nodding to himself, he spun on his heels to find someone else to partner with when Isengrim apparently spotted him and called his name, a little bit desperately.

He couldn’t exactly walk away now, so Eldain turned back and walked up to Isengrim and his pursuers, forcing a friendly smirk onto his face. “Hey,” he started to say when Isengrim grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close in an overly familiar hug. Before he could say anything, Isengrim murmured in his ear.

“If you pick me, I swear I will owe you a favour of your choosing,” Isengrim’s low voice growled and Eldain shivered, Isengrim’s breath tickling over his exposed skin.

Pick Isengrim? Sure, twist his arm. That had, after all, been his initial intent. But he wasn’t sure why Isengrim was asking when Isengrim was the one with the pick of the place.

“Yeah, all right,” Eldain shrugged, trying to exude casualness. He was obviously just doing this for the favour. No other reason. “Shall we find somewhere to chat, then? Apparently we’re supposed to get to know each other.”

The look of sheer relief on the Iron Wolf’s face was strange to be on the receiving end of. But Isengrim slipped his arm through Eldain’s, immediately pulling them away and guiding the pair towards the garden.

Eldain looked around, mildly impressed. For a new settlement, these organizers were doing a pretty good job and getting it up and running.

Which made sense, given they were hoping that this event would culminate with many pregnant elves.

“So,” Eldain drawled, surprised by how much he liked the feeling of Isengrim’s fingers against the crook of his arm. “Seems like you’re a big hit.”

Isengrim’s nose wrinkled in a strangely adorable expression and Eldain bit his lip against a smile. “Apparently there is potential acclaim in having the Iron Wolf’s child. Even though, as I understand it, the point of this event is not about genetics as much as just…”

“Conception?” Eldain offered, and Isengrim nodded, frowning. “So why choose me? Do I not get the same acclaim?”

Isengrim snorted, “you have your own acclaim. Though, speaking of, I’d heard you were dead?”

“Likewise. It was a close ‘almost’,” Eldain shrugged, trying not to let the memories flood through him. He cleared his throat instead. “And you?”

Isengrim made a face, “believe it or not, I owe my survival to a human.”

“You’re kidding.”

The Iron Wolf shook his head, looking every bit as imposing now standing in an early-stage gardener’s plot as he had commanding Scoia’tael into battle.

Eldain licked his lips. Sure, he may have his own ‘acclaim’ in the form of a brutal reputation that was based mostly on real events, but there would always be something majestic about the Iron Wolf that people like Eldain could never match.

“Well, I doubt either of us want to talk more about that,” he said, jerking his gaze away from Isengrim’s face and continuing their walk through the garden. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Isengrim shrugged casually, “fighting, assassinating kings, that kind of thing.”

Eldain blinked, gaze landing on Isengrim again. Isengrim had a little smirk on his face, like he was enjoying Eldain’s reaction, but there was no sign that he wasn’t telling the truth.

“Wow, and here I thought I was doing well with my best kill being a duke,” Eldain joked, smiling back at Isengrim.

Isengrim tossed back his head and laughed, deep, rumbling sounds that felt at home settling in Eldain’s chest. Weird.

“What about you?” Isengrim asked after his laughter had passed. “What’s keeping you busy these days?”

“Eh, I’ve been working as a merc,” Eldain said, wondering if Isengrim would judge him. It was always hard to predict with Scoia’tael – some thought fighting for money was horrific and some thought it was sensible. He didn’t know what Isengrim thought.

“Oh? Around Aedirn?”

“All over,” Eldain shrugged. It had taken him about a year to be ready to return to Aedirn after everything with fucking Queen Meve. She was a perfect example of why humans could never be trusted. Ever.

He swallowed hard. “So, what do you think about this event?”

Isengrim huffed a soft laugh. “At my age, I kinda figured my chances of having a child were pretty slim. But…”

“Yeah,” Eldain nodded, understanding the unspoken reason. How could they not, when the very fate of their species lay in peril?

“But you’re pretty young, aren’t you?” Isengrim asked him. “Is this your first time doing this?”

Eldain hummed, pondering exactly how much older Isengrim was. The Iron Wolf had lived pre-humanity, Eldain knew that much. Most of the Scoia’tael commanders had been older elves that had been born before the Conjunction of the Spheres. Eldain had been unusual in gaining his command, but none of the elder elves ever had the balls to take on the Moulderwoods, so it had fallen to Eldain and all the younger elves who had been born there. Not that there were many of them left anymore, not after...

Eldain shook himself. If he kept thinking about his old command and his old home, he was either going to scream or cry, so he very pointedly redirected his thoughts to his companion.

Isengrim looked – pretty great, actually, for someone who was supposed to be dead. But then, Eldain wasn’t entirely sure it was possible for the Iron Wolf to look anything but gorgeous and commanding and in control.

“So, Isengrim,” he enunciated Isengrim’s name clearly and Isengrim cocked an eyebrow, one that was split by the scar that spanned across his nose. It was kind of beautiful. “What do we need to know about each other to be able to comfortably fuck?”

Isengrim choked slightly at him being so blatant about it, but seriously, they were at a breeding event. There was nothing un-crass about this whole thing.

“Well,” Isengrim cleared his throat. “Um, I guess… I have no idea,” he said after a long moment. “Um, maybe preferences, I guess?”

Eldain snorted, “feels like an icebreaker question. ‘Hi, I’m Eldain and I prefer men.’”

“Any man?” Isengrim’s eyebrow arched again. “Or specifically one who can put a brat like you in their place?”

Eldain’s breathing hitched and his exhale was shaky. “That helps,” he managed to say, and Isengrim’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “And what does the Iron Wolf prefer?”

Isengrim’s nose wrinkled again, clearly uncomfortable with his moniker in this context. Eldain made a note of that. “Apparently,” Isengrim said slowly, “my type is bratty musicians.”

Blinking, Eldain took a moment to process that, then grinned widely, bowing and flourishing his hand in front of him. “At your service.”

Isengrim laughed again, shaking his head. “What kind of music do you play, anyway? All the rumors said was ‘former musician’.”

Eldain tsked, “really, Isengrim, don’t you know better than to believe rumors?” Isengrim rolled his eyes and Eldain laughed. “Mostly, I play the lute and the fiddle, though I know several other instruments. I’m a modern musician, none of that classical shit.” He shut his mouth, abruptly realizing that Isengrim had been alive when those ‘classics’ were new, and may have been attached to them.

Fortunately, Isengrim just chuckled. “You’d probably get along terribly with my ex. He’s very much a classicist.”

“Oh?

“Played with symphonies and stuff, way back,” Isengrim said, a soft smile on his face that Eldain knew wasn’t for him.

He cleared his throat, looking away from Isengrim’s face. It wasn’t as if he was in love with Isengrim or anything, but it still hurt a little bit to be reminded that this was all to save their species. Isengrim had chosen him, sure, and that was an honor. But it was nothing more than sex. He needed to remember that.

Swallowing hard, Eldain forced a smile on his face. “Bet I’m a better musician,” he taunted, and Isengrim laughed again.

“You might be,” Isengrim conceded. “Would you play for me?”

Blinking in surprise, Eldain looked back at Isengrim. The smile on his face was different now, not like he was thinking of a past love, but like it was intended for Eldain.

This time, he swallowed down an entirely different emotion. “Yeah,” he managed to say. “Um, lemme–” he cleared his throat again, cursing himself for leaving his lute with his stuff in the room the organizers had given him.

Isengrim licked his lips and suggested, “I could come with you.”

“Uh, sure,” Eldain shrugged, wondering why he felt like a teenager bringing a boy home for the first time.

Isengrim’s smile widened, and he stepped up to curl his hand around Eldain’s elbow again. Eldain bit his lip against his own smile, leading them towards the rooms for volunteers.

[magical-readathon-diaries]

Djali’s Log 1

So I guess this is the beginning of it? The big adventure I always dreamed of? Braving the Novice Path, heading towards the Academy to meet new people, learn new things, see fantastic places. Wait, should I do an introduction here? Do journals even need introductions? Well, what if one day my journal is saved for posterity for some historical reason? Maybe someone venturing onto the Novice Path in the future could benefit from reading this log and learn how to better navigate it themselves? Yes, yes, then an introduction is in order.

Hello, this is Djali, of the Great Underworld Library of Darkmeadow. I am seventeen years of age, of Iltirian heritage, and tutored in the realms of history, geography, biology, archivism, and certain magics, such as conjuration and illusion. I have spent my entire life beneath Darkmeadow and was raised by the curators of the Library, though my main overseer is, at this moment, Archivist Caddigan. My knowledge of the world and its inhabitants is limited solely to my own personal research, as this log contains my first voyage away from home, so any discrepancies or misunderstandings found within are solely the fault of my own inexperience. That’s a normal thing to put in a journal, right? Okay, focus, time to move forward.

My journey to Orilium was relatively uneventful. Caddigan arranged passage for me on a ship, which carried many other residents of Darkmeadow looking to take on the Path. I was eager to speak with them to learn how they would approach this challenge, knowing that not all who undertake it come out alive. While I did get the usual pleasantries, no one was willing to talk for long. They were still planning, preparing, or fretting for what was ahead of them. Not that I can blame them, of course. With all the stories one hears, it would be foolish not to do everything in one’s power to make sure they were one hundred percent ready. It’s just….I thought things would be different. Less…. solitary. That we would all recognize our common goal and work together, like the stories of heroes long ago. But, those stories are the past, not now, as Caddigan always tries to remind me. Still, why can’t then be now also?

I spent most of the time reacquainting myself with the map of the Path, its general layout, as well as practice some magic that may be of use during the test. I had it all down to the best of my ability, I didn’t think I can take much more of it. My head was so full of what ifs, contingency plans, and just general information it feels like it was going to burst. I think the only time I felt any solace was at night.

Though I was unable to chance a flight that night, I did fly up the mast to sit in the crow’s nest. It was made for crows after all. I haven’t done too much study into nautical topics, so that’s my best assumption. I stared for a while at the stars, still admiring, my mind wanting to focus on a single point, rather than the chaos currently bouncing around my temples. It was a nice moment, one that I will treasure always and take comfort in. Of course, I eventually fell asleep, so the morning after I needed a bit of help getting down since the blasted sun was ruining my eyes again, but we won’t dwell on that.

This was my first time leaving the Library, meaning this was probably the longest time I have been on the surface in a while. I’ve ventured out onto the topside of Darkmeadow a few times, giving Caddigan multiple heart attacks in the process, but those excursions were never that long, not enough for me to get a good sense of the outside. Being on the ship, however, exposed me to what life is like in the open air. Before I left, Caddigan gave me a blindfold, as my eyes are not used to the sun and I really would not like to spend my days in a total blinded stupor. During the day I mostly spent time below deck, just wandering aimlessly. But at night, I emerged to see a sky flooded with stars.

I’ve studied stars in the past, learned their names, positions, and what constellations they create, but actually seeing them was almost indescribable. The light was soft, gentle, unlike the harsh light of day that I unfortunately have to get used to. They were celestial pinpricks in a velvet tarp of night, the world made more beautiful just by their existence. There was no moon unfortunately, but it was still a sky worth looking at. Everything felt so still and quiet, the lap of the waves against the ship making the only noise. A salty breeze tousled my hair and for a moment I was tempted to shift into crow shape just to feel what it would be like to ride it. The captain had expressly told the Iltirian passengers not to do so, something about us “land-dwellers” not knowing how to “bend to these ferocious sea winds,” but I think it may just be his superstition of not wanting too many ‘birds of ill omen” near his ship. Not very logical thinking if you ask me, but we all have our quirks.

It wasn’t too long after that the ship made it to Orilium. Thankfully by that time I could travel fairly well in the day without my blindfold, something I was extremely grateful for as the time to start the Novice Path was drawing near. We disembarked and made our way to the campsite near the entrance to the Path. A good amount of people were already there, setting up tents, getting a lay of the land, writing messages to loved ones should they not make it out. It was honestly depressing to think about, but it was a reality. There was no certainty that we were all going to make it out of here alive. Though we were all looking for adventure, for a chance to prove ourselves worthy, that all came with a price, one that some may have to pay in full.

I don’t think I find myself particularly worried. I think it’s more like I can’t allow for failure, so I can’t even accept the possibility of it. I can’t come to grips with the fact that I may very well die in the near future. Call it the reckless abandon of youth, but It just seems so impossible. That confidence will either be my greatest asset or my ruin. But enough of that! This is supposed to be exciting! That’s what readers like! A dragging down to earth is necessary in certain parts, but only so that we can rise up again!

Clearly the mood was starting to weigh heavily in the air, as an old elf came before us and delivered a well, I think it was intended to be a rousing speech about the merits of having danger in an adventure, which I suppose is true, but doesn’t alone soothe anyone’s worries. The song he performed afterwards did a lot more in stirring up the revelry of the crowd. It’s a song we all know, a song that was practically born in our minds at birth. In that moment, all those feelings of fear, doubt, and anxiety melted away, as we raised our voices as one and came together to celebrate the calm before the storm of our journey.

The night that followed was one I admit that I will be hard pressed to forget. The archivists of the Library are, surprisingly, not the most mirthful of people, so I’ve never actually been to anything resembling a party. It was very..loud to say the least. Lots of drinking, dancing, shenanigans, which I guess is normal? They don’t exactly have any academic material on this subject, though such a text would probably be very helpful to people like me. The utter pandemonium of it all was hard to navigate at first, but I think I managed to fit in rather well. I danced the best I could with some other Iltirians. I’m not much of a dancer, another thing they fail to teach you when you live at the Library, but no one pointed and laughed so I’ll take that as a triumph.

And that has been my journey up until now. Tomorrow I begin my adventure on the Novice Path, along with the others who want to prove their worth to the Academy. It’s hard to believe that the time has finally come, that I’m only one sleep away from the most important day of my life. Here’s hoping that it’s also not the last.

I mingled through the crowd, politely taking a drink now and then. I got a few names, had a couple worthwhile conversations, some a little one-sided, but I don’t think anyone’s eyes completely glazed over as I went on about the magical properties of certain gemstones. I’m not sure if I would call anyone friend just yet, though something in me desperately wants to. There’s still the fear that the people I met tonight may very well be gone tomorrow, but tonight was for enjoying this glorious moment, not dreading the future. So, the night passed thusly, with wine and song and the hope that tomorrow is a guarantee.

When the party died down and people retired to their tents, I rolled out a pack on the ground, completely content to sleep under the sky. The stars were shining bright as ever, the lovely constants of the sky, and now there was a slight sliver of moon to accompany them. Though there was little to see, she sure was beautiful.

I’m sorry, I really can’t end the log like that. So depressing. Uh, what else to end it on?

Well, the moment I wrote that a literal tumbleweed blew past me, perfectly summarizing the emptiness of my mind.

Okay, on that note, this log is complete.

[jasonbehrs]

something that i already know

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

As soon as Siwon says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong’s astute, masterful, beautiful mind… But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn’t provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: siwon, shindong, eunhyuk ships: shinwon, sihyuk genres: friendship, angst, romance themes: slice of life, one-sided crush, angst with a happy ending setting: high school into college; metro seoul area, south korea word count: 12.7k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

A/N (05/01/2021): Hi, ELF! This is my first Super Junior fanfic :) Title comes from the Backstreet Boys song of the same name; cover image is made by me; and if you recognise anything in the fic, that means I don't own it. Happy reading!

~~~

It's never easy being the new kid in school, and Donghee is no exception. He has no friends; he has to play a lot of catch-up in the first few weeks because where his old teachers left off doesn't match up to where his new teachers are picking up; and he has to spend precious emotional energy acclimating to the culture and social politics.

Add in the fact that it's senior year, and he's at the most elite academy in Gyeonggi on a scholarship—he's seen this K-drama before. He knows how it ends.

"Hey! You're the new kid, Shin Donghee, right? Can I sit here?"

Admittedly, Tall, Bright, and Handsome doesn't usually come up to bully the new kid with such a charming smile on his face in the script, but Donghee still knows his role.

"Yeah, got it. Sorry. Didn't know this was your seat," he mumbles as he hurriedly packs up his lunch and books. He's not trying to make waves on his first day, thank you very much.

"No, no," T.B.H. puts out his hand to stop him from putting his planner away, and Donghee is shocked into stillness from the glaringly off-script performance that the other is putting on. "I meant, like, can I sit with you? I didn't know if you wanted to sit alone or not; but if you wanted the option for company, here I am."

Another winsome smile graces the other's face, and Donghee's eyes narrow. "Are you sure you wanna sit with the scholarship kid?" he asks sardonically. He isn't trying to get away anymore, but he's still not convinced he's welcome here.

Tall, Bright, and Handsome's light dims just a bit, but his pout is still effortlessly charming. It's almost offensive. "Come on. We're not like that here."

Donghee looks no further than just above the other's shoulder and sees a group of girls whispering and giggling in their direction. He looks back at the well-meaning but clueless hero of the story and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. T.B.H. looks over his shoulder to see what he saw, and he at least has the grace to be embarrassed when he turns back around.

Donghee is prepared to give a half-conciliatory, half-I told you so parting glance, but the other student keeps talking. "I'll admit, that's not a good look for us," he says with a grimace, "but would you believe me if I said they were acting like that because of me and not you?"

Considering he's been calling the guy 'Tall, Bright, and Handsome' in his head this whole time, yeah, he could believe it.

Hoping against hope that he isn't about to regret this, Donghee sits back down at the lunch table. T.B.H.'s smile is so bright, Donghee thinks he saw one of the guy's front teeth actually sparkle. "I'm Choi Siwon," he introduces as he extends his hand. Donghee shakes it and wryly thinks to himself that of course T.B.H.'s real name means 'cool.'

~~~

To nobody's surprise, Siwon is part of the popular crowd, which Donghee determines by the look on everyone's faces when Siwon invites him to sit with his friends at lunch the next day. The guys weren't exactly welcoming, but they were polite. He doesn't know whether maybe Siwon said something to them or not about being nice to the new kid; but honestly, he'll take it. He's still not entirely convinced that this is the setup for some sort of 'Carrie' situation or something. It's senior year after all, so prom is coming up.

It isn't until Siwon invites them all over to study together that things shift.

"Bro, what the fuck," Kangin says out of the blue, causing everyone to look up and causing Donghee to drop the pencil he was playing with. Kangin is staring at him—more specifically, his hand—and everyone's attention turns to him instead.

"Uh," he intones, not sure what is happening here and suddenly feeling the urge to look up.

"Do that again," Kangin demands, gesturing at Donghee's hand. His fingers twitch involuntarily at the command, but he genuinely has no clue what he's meant to do. He looks to Siwon with a clear plea for help on his face.

"Youngwoon, what gives?" Siwon asks, using Kangin's real name to snap him out of whatever is captivating the varsity baseball captain.

"Donghee was legit balancing a fucking pencil on his finger!" Kangin exclaims while gesturing helplessly at Donghee's hand.

Donghee understands immediately. "Ah, sorry. I forgot I did that." Without further prompting, he balances his pencil on its eraser at the tip of his middle finger. He moves his hand side to side for fun, showing off how the graphite tip stays roughly at the same point in the air all the while. With a flick of his finger, he launches the pencil up and catches it in mid-air, smoothly transitioning to end with a bow in his seat with the same gesture.

He looks up to find four slack-jawed teenage boys, and he brags, "I can do that with basically anything I can lift."

All pretenses of studying are summarily discarded in favour of testing this theory. Donghee easily balances notebooks, folding chairs, and even a curtain pole (dismantled from the window by an excited Heechul and reinstalled by an amused Siwon).

Once the others are thoroughly entertained, they don't want to go back to studying. Alas, they are at Siwon's house; as rich as he is, he doesn't have any convenient distractions (which Donghee surmises is the point of going to Siwon's to study in the first place). Kibum's the one to recommend just going to the local convenience store and walking around for no reason, which feels a lot like acceptance to Donghee.

In fact, it isn't long until he finds himself hanging out with some of the guys sans Siwon.

Kibum hands Donghee part of his deck for some trading card game he's never even heard of before, much more played; but after two rounds and a gradual learning of the rules, Donghee is now locked into a 1v1 match against Kibum, having just killed Heechul's last creature card.

"You sure your name's Shin Donghee and not Hee Shindong?" Heechul mutters as he throws his cards on the table. "Like, what can't you do?"

Donghee isn't paying him any attention then, instead supremely focused on using his impromptu green-black strategy to beat Kibum with his own deck.

So he's surprised when the next day Heechul slaps his back and says, "Yah! Shindong! I've been calling you for like five minutes!" as he falls into step with Donghee on his way to school. "Run me through the lymphatic system one more time." Donghee obligingly pulls out his notebook and helps his friend cram for their biology quiz that day, but his mind is somewhere else.

He's never had a nickname before, and he likes it.

~~~

Siwon is nothing like what he expects.

He spends most of his free time with the guys now, and he keeps coming back to that realisation.

Siwon is touchy. Like, more affectionate than a dog or a baby could be—combined. Kibum may be the youngest, but Siwon is the baby, and no one seems to mind treating him as such. Shindong is a man who likes his personal space, but Siwon's touches are so genuinely friendly and joyful that he finds himself readily inviting them into his bubble.

Siwon is expressive. Casual observers would never notice more than his charming smile and runway-ready neutral gaze, but he and the guys know better than that. Siwon talks with his whole body. His amusement is measured in congratulatory high-fives, and his stress in head shakes and tapping fingers. Shindong can always tell what he's thinking and feeling.

Siwon is down-to-earth. He's the richest in their friend group by a whole social class, but nothing about him plays on Shindong's financial insecurities. In fact, the first time Shindong hosted his friends over, the power went out, and Siwon was the only one who happened to recognise the strategically placed candles and matches around the living room. He wordlessly helped Shindong light them back up and suggested they take advantage of the dark to tell scary stories. Shindong will always be grateful for that.

Siwon is single. Sure, he doesn't give off playboy vibes, but he is certainly the poster child for monogamy. Shindong would not have been surprised to meet a loving, long-term girlfriend who is just as angelic as Siwon is and somehow twice as gorgeous, but no such person exists. Shindong has seen girls confess to Siwon literally once a day since they became friends (the record for a single day is currently four confessions), but Siwon graciously yet firmly denies them all.

Siwon is his best friend. It starts with study sessions, which turn into de-stress movie nights, which turn into sleepovers—and before he knows it, people from teachers to strangers start considering them a package deal. Shindong doesn't mind, of course. Siwon is less intense when he's not around the others, more introspective and goals-oriented—and Shindong can relate. It's great to have a friend who gets both sides of him and around whom he can comfortably show both sides. He didn't have one at his old school, but he's glad he has someone now.

~~~

"Want the rest of my pork?" Kibum offers Shindong at lunch. "Nah, I don't believe in cannibalism," Shindong says, even as he begins transferring the meat over to his own lunch tray.

The table is silent for a moment, but luckily he places his tray down just as Kangin decides to lay an open-palm slap to his back, laughing uproariously. Heechul is legitimately choking on his own food, and Kibum gives him a nod with a grin to acknowledge the joke.

Shindong feels pretty pleased with himself—he just knew that joke would land—and he glances over at Siwon to see the other's reaction. To his surprise, Siwon is staring at the table with a furrowed brow instead. Shindong frowns but lets it go. It's too bad Siwon was too busy thinking to hear his joke.

After lunch, the two of them only have the last class of the day together, and he notices Siwon still seems to be in a sour mood. Shindong racks his brain trying to remember if Siwon had a test he was worried about today. Maybe he feels like he failed?

"Hey, man," he calls out to Siwon after the final bell rings. "Wanna get some gyoza? On me."

Siwon's face brightens for the first time since lunch, and Shindong knows he made the right call; but in the time it takes for them to head to the Japanese place near his house and settle into a booth, Siwon's mood is dark again.

The table is quiet as Siwon plays with his food, making no move to eat any. Shindong stuffs two fried shrimp pieces in his mouth as casually as possible. Don't ask him why, but he thinks talking with his mouth full will help break the ice. "Hey, you good? You've been in a mood all day."

Siwon briefly meets Shindong's carefully neutral stare then averts his eyes to the table. "I don't like it when you do that," he mutters.

Shindong freezes with the next set of two gyoza halfway to his mouth. "Eat? Sorry man, I'm very diligent about my eat-anything-in-sight diet. If I stopped being fat, the girls at school would be all over me instead of you, which would disturb the balance of our friendship." He ends with a bite of dumpling and a cheeky grin.

"No, that! The self-deprecating jokes about your size!"

They both freeze. Siwon did not mean to blurt it out like that.

He deflates a little in his seat in embarrassment. "I don't like them. They make me sad," he continues in a much quieter tone.

Shindong did not see this coming and, frankly, has no idea how to react. "Um, you want me to stop being fat?"

"No, I want you to stop drawing attention to it. It's like you have to make a mean joke about your size first before anyone else can. No one in the group would ever be mean to you about it; I wouldn't let them," Siwon states adamantly. He means every word. The second one of the others crosses a line, he wouldn't hesitate to make sure they never, ever did it again.

The words are out before Shindong fully thinks about them. "You can say the word 'fat,' Siwon. Newsflash, I am fat. I'm as fat as you are tall. It's just something about me. I won't hesitate to make a fat joke any sooner than Heechul would hesitate to make a bi joke." His frustration surprises even himself, so he takes a sip from his water to calm down.

Siwon takes that as his cue to plead his case, and pleading he is. "It doesn't bother you that that's the part of yourself you decide to play up for the jokes? You're a great dancer, and you're quick on your feet—literally and figuratively! You'd be so great at, like, slapstick or something!" Shindong snorts, but Siwon forges on. "I just don't like seeing my friends laugh at you for… for being fat when you're so much more than that."

Shindong doesn't say anything, just lowers his head, and Siwon sighs. "You want to make a fat joke, don't you." "AND I'M SO MUCH ALREADY—okay. I'm done, I'm done."

Siwon withers and lets his head drop to his arms on the table. Shindong laughs, all tension dissipated. "So, this is clearly bothering you a lot," he needlessly observes. Siwon nods his head without lifting it up, and Shindong takes pity on him. "Alright, I'll try to tone it down. Or maybe I'll do like you said and just sprinkle in other kinds of jokes. No one likes a one-trick pony anyway."

Siwon peeks up through his eyelashes, and Shindong nods faux-sagely. "And maybe in the future when I'm rich and can afford therapy, I'll find out you're right and my brand of humour was simply a defense mechanism for some deeply internalised fatphobia all along. Then you could say, 'I told you so.'"

Siwon shakes his head resolutely. "That's not something I want to be right about."

Shindong shrugs in a 'suit yourself' manner and goes back to eating, and Siwon follows suit.

After a stretch of companionable silence, Siwon speaks up again. "I knew you're fat—I know it—but I don't think I understood that being fat was a part of you. Thank you for giving me a chance to understand you better. I thought I was intervening in something unhealthy, but I see now that that wasn't as righteous as I thought it was." He pauses then and doesn't continue until Shindong looks up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry if I came off as insensitive or, worse, embarrassed. You don't embarrass me, Donghee."

Shindong looks back down at his food, unsure of what the emotion is in Siwon's voice as the other said his real name. "I know, but thank you."

~~~

Shindong is everything he didn't know he needs.

As the school year progresses, Siwon finds himself feeling lighter and lighter, and he can trace all of his growing juvenescence directly to his new best friend.

Shindong values hard work. The other guys are great at their own things, but they're missing that fire under their butts that makes them actually try. Shindong doesn't just put in the effort; he also appreciates the challenge and sees it as an opportunity instead. Shindong empowers Siwon to embrace his own challenges in a way that he didn't feel like he could do until Shindong came around.

Shindong tries new things. Siwon is a rather adventurous guy himself, but that's not what he means. Shindong picks up and drops hobbies as quickly as Heechul switches partners, and he's amassed a great wealth of knowledge as a result. He's dynamic, and Siwon could never get bored of the way Shindong talks about his niche interest du jour.

Shindong speaks his mind. His friend group is made up of some pretty lax guys, which is great until some of them get into an argument. They never really talk things out, instead waiting until it's no longer annoying to be in the same room and just choosing to let it go. When Shindong is offended, you'll know. When he's wrong, he'll admit it. It does lead to some tension at first, but they all end up better for it as a result, and Siwon wishes he could be that brave.

Shindong trusts him. When Siwon was planning on hosting the guys over at his house for Kangin's birthday since he has an indoor pool and hot tub, Shindong shyly asked him to think of something else because he's afraid of water. That was a request Siwon was more than happy to oblige if it meant including Shindong in the festivities.

Shindong doesn't need him to be 'on' all the time. One time Kangin invited himself over to one of their hangouts—he and Shindong had planned to read the newspaper together to catch up on current events and financial affairs—and he got bored and complained that they should do something more fun. Before Siwon could worry Shindong felt the same way, the other had sassily defended their brand of bonding and just told Kangin to leave if he didn't like it. Siwon loves the fact that Shindong cherishes that quiet time together as much as he does.

Siwon thinks he maybe just loves Shindong.

~~~

Shindong slides into the seat beside Siwon in their first shared class of the day just as he slides an envelope across Siwon's desk. The envelope happens to have the same seal as the university into which Siwon is planning on matriculating. They offered him a spot on the varsity basketball team and sponsored on-campus living, and Mama Choi didn't raise no fool.

Siwon raises an eyebrow in interest, and Shindong simply points at the envelope with his chin. Siwon takes that as the invitation it is, and he pulls out the letter inside.

Congratulations, Donghee! You have been accepted…

Siwon whips his head up to look at Shindong, who has the largest shit-eating grin on his face.

They need to talk about this. Now.

"Seonsaengnim!" Siwon abruptly interrupts the teacher's lecture with his hand straight in the air. He ignores all the eyes that turn to him in shock. "Donghee isn't feeling too well. Can I take him to the nurse?"

All attention shifts to Shindong, who improvises in stride. "Ughhhhhnnnn," he groans pitifully, slouching over on his desk for added effect.

"Very well, then," the teacher waves off. Siwon stands up and bows hastily before half-guiding, half-dragging Shindong out the door. "Awwwwwwgggggghhhh," Shindong keeps up the ruse as he stumbles out, affecting delirium.

Once they're out of sight from the doorway, they run down the halls until they reach the bathroom, trying without success to contain their giggles along the way. "Couldn't give me a head's up back there?" Shindong teases as he sits on the edge of a sink, lightly panting.

"Couldn't give me a head's up that you were applying to my university?" Siwon punches Shindong's shoulder, acting affronted, but he swoops in for a bone-crushing hug immediately afterwards.

Shindong awkwardly returns the hug. (Siwon pinning his arms to his side means he can only reach Siwon's elbows.) His voice is quiet when he says, "My hopes were already up. I didn't want to get yours up, too."

Siwon gets it, so he lets it and Shindong go. The excited smile stays on his face, though. "Are you gonna go?"

"I don't know, man. They gave me a scholarship, but that just brings the tuition cost down to the same price as the local uni. I'd still have to get a job or a work-study to help offset the costs; and on top of that, I'd be so far away from home…"

"... But you're willing to go through all that just to keep going to the same school as me?" Siwon offers cheekily, squashing that incredibly light feeling in his chest with humour.

Shindong rolls his eyes. "I was gonna say, 'But all that is doable, and hey, at least you'll be there for me to mooch off of,'" he says with an attitude, but the corners of his lips quirk up at the end.

"You're right. I'll be there for you," Siwon affirms. Something about the serious way he said that makes Shindong feel like he's missing something, but he brushes it off. He was a little nervous about going so far away for school, but he has a feeling he'll be fine with Siwon around.

~~~

Siwon sidles up to Heechul, who casually throws his arm around the newcomer's shoulders despite the height difference. "How's my favourite wallet doing?" Heechul teases.

They're the only two to share this free period, and they often spend it outside, chatting, listening to music, doing homework, whatever. This time, Siwon finds Heechul leaning against a wall and people-watching.

"What's your read on Shindong?" Siwon asks as casually as possible. He's hoping he doesn't need to explain further, and luckily Heechul doesn't need clarification. Heechul knows what Siwon means.

He also knows: "Give up before it's too late."

Siwon's hopes plummet. "Really?" he asks, face and voice coloured by obvious disappointment.

Heechul looks over at Siwon and realises it is, in fact, too late for the other. His heart clenches for his long-time friend, and Heechul finds himself equivocating out of a need to assuage him. "Maybe I'm wrong for once. Like, what do I know? I'm just 18."

Siwon tries on a bright smile. "Yeah, maybe. There's gotta be a first time for everything, right, hyung?"

But now is not one of those times, and Heechul knows it. "Don't say I didn't warn you, though." He tries on a reassuring grin and a friendly knock on Siwon's shoulder.

He knows it looks more like a grimace, and he knows Siwon is ignoring that. He just doesn't know how long it'll take before Siwon's heart breaks.

He may not have had Heechul's fullest support, but Siwon has spent Too Many days thinking about this to go back now. It took long enough as it is to even get to this point; but if he's being honest with himself, he knew it was only a matter of time.

He finds his opportunity on their way home from school the week before showtime.

"Shindong, wanna go to prom with me?" "What?"

Shindong gives him a look so incredulous, Siwon is reminded of one of those dogs with smushed faces. The thought makes him smile even though his heart feels simultaneously too heavy and too fast.

"Should I, um, should I repeat myself?" he asks while trying to hide his shaking hands by grabbing onto his backpack straps.

"I'm just… so confused. Didn't Kwon Boa ask you to prom yesterday? Did she dump you already? What did you do?!"

In truth, Siwon turned her down as soon as she asked him, but saying that now would be unhelpful for his purposes.

"Even if you did somehow fuck up your chance with the prettiest, most sought-after girl in school, you still could ask literally anyone to be your date? Why would you go the friend route for prom? It's not even a valid Plan Z," Shindong continues.

Siwon pouts. "If I can ask anyone, why can't I ask you?"

Shindong is unimpressed, and Siwon wavers in his conviction. He wasn't originally going to tell him, but…

This could be it. This could be his chance to confess to Shindong.

There's always the chance that Shindong would reject him, of course. He'd probably use Siwon's own technique against him, too; that would be pretty pathetic. Then he'd promise that this wouldn't affect their friendship, except it will because he'll be too awkward around Siwon; and slowly but surely, he'd pull away from the other until Siwon finds himself at university, alone and painfully aware of how close he is to his best friend who is completely out of reach—oh God, of course he can't confess to Shindong.

The aforementioned snaps his fingers in Siwon's face, and Siwon resolutely sticks to his plan. He throws a casual arm around Shindong's shoulder and forces them to keep walking. "I heard from the seniors before us that prom's more fun with friends anyway. Why go with some girl I don't know when I can go with you?"

"Siwon, I know you're lying to me."

"What?" Siwon's step falters.

"We're best friends, of course I know." Besides the fact that Siwon is unconsciously telegraphing, the other guys have found dates already. Siwon would have brought it up with all of them if he really wanted to go with friends.

Siwon bites his bottom lip, waiting for whatever fallout comes from his decision to open this can of worms.

Shindong sighs and slips his hand into Siwon's. He's learned touching helps. "It also means I know when to let it go. I'll go to prom with you, flower boy."

Siwon cannot contain himself. "HE SAID YES!" he yells into the sky as he runs around, hooting and hollering in unadulterated jubilation.

Shindong shakes his head with annoyed fondness as he continues walking home, expecting Siwon to catch up with him once he's tired out.

(And it turns out Siwon's seniors were right: prom is a lot more fun with friends.)

~~~

Their final hurrah takes place at the height of the summer. Between family vacations and Siwon moving in early for the summer basketball bootcamp the university is making him attend, it's the only time they'll have where all five are available before the fall comes and scatters them away.

Siwon's family lets them borrow one of their cars for the day, and they make the maknae drive them all the way to the beach as early as they could go (read: as early as Kangin could wake up). The day progresses with plenty of frisbee on the sand, frolicking in the sea, and flirting at the food shacks. The ever present feeling that this may be the last time all of them are gathered together in a long time is never lost on any of them, so they make the most of every moment, earning them unheeded glares from the lifeguard on duty.

Sunset finds them around a small bonfire near the surf. To no one's surprise, Kangin managed to lift some beers from his parents, so they drink as they talk and watch the embers float up into the gradually darkening sky. Gone with the sun is the high energy from the day, leaving behind a calmer and more contemplative atmosphere.

Heechul speaks up after a comfortable stretch of silence. "So, I already know what those two fogies are doing come fall," he says while pointing to where Siwon and Shindong sit on opposite sides of the fire, "but what about you guys?" he directs towards Kangin and Kibum. "All I know is that college really isn't the cards for you."

Kibum ducks his head shyly. "I, uh, made it past the first round of auditions at MS Entertainment."

"WHAT?!" "Like, the MS Entertainment!?" "Um, when was this?!" "You're thinking of joining the entertainment industry?"

The last question surprisingly comes from Siwon, and the other guys shoot him a look. Siwon lifts his hands up in defense. "It's just that, Kibum, I've never even heard you sing."

Kibum shakes his head. "No, I wanna be an actor. I realised it after I missed out on auditions for the school play. For just a few hours a day, it'll be nice to pretend I'm not me. I think I could be really good at it if I got the chance." The guys nod, knowing very well how Kibum struggles to be and express himself without pretense.

"I can't wait to see you on TV one day, man," Shindong says with a smile. "If you book a commercial, I am buying one thousand units of whatever you're selling. I don't care what it is. I'll end up with a thousand pairs of jeans if I must," Kangin jokes.

Kibum grins appreciatively and nods towards Kangin in turn. "What about you, then?"

Kangin puffs out his chest with pride. "I'm gonna start at a baseball development camp out in Gangwon. If I work hard and play my cards right, I might get recruited at one of the farm teams in the Futures League. It would be awesome if I got into one of the Seoul clubs, just so I could stay close to home."

Shindong smirks. "Okay, let's say you had to go to a southern team. Which one would you pick? 1, 2, 3…"

"The Dinos."

Heechul barks out a laugh. "If you think I'd go all the way to fuckin' Changwon just to see your sorry ass… Well, a bitch might."

Siwon quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? What is the self-proclaimed biggest star in the universe, the Great Kim Heechul, doing instead?"

"Whatever it takes, man," Heechul says with a snort. "I'll get some part time jobs here, travel a little there… Just figure life out as it comes."

Kibum nods, well-acquainted with Heechul's myself-against-the-world attitude. Shindong, for his part, tries his best to offer a smile without looking pitying. He can't help but feel like Heechul is making his life harder for himself than it has to be—but now's not the time, and neither is he the person, for that conversation.

Kangin counters, "You might find yourself in Gyeongsang anyway then, hyung."

"Yeah; and if you were paying attention to me, you would have known I acknowledged that already, dumbass. Clean the wax outta your ears."

"How about I clean your clock instead!" Kangin yells as he launches at Heechul, and they start wrestling in the sand.

Shindong watches, reveling in the familiarity of the moment, and thinks about how close he was to not having any of this. "When I first moved here, I was pretty sure I was gonna spend the school year alone." The words come out of his mouth without prompting; but now that they're out, he finds he actually has something to say.

The boys turn their attention to him, Kangin and Heechul halting their bickering and sitting in place where they found themselves on the sand, and Shindong continues. "You know. I was the new kid, I was only able to afford the school because of my scholarship, I'm fat. If life were like a TV show, that wouldn't have been the most successful combination of factors." He quirks the corners of his lips up in a wane half-smile, then turns his gaze from the fire to the earnest faces of his friends. "But I met you guys, and nothing happened like I thought it would. Thanks for giving me a chance."

"Aish," Kangin says as he gets up and moves back towards the group. He stops behind Siwon and places a hand on his shoulder. "Don't thank us; thank this guy. He texted us one day all, 'I invited the new kid to sit with us at lunch tomorrow. Try not to be dicks.' If it weren't for him, I probably would have pushed you into the lockers once or twice just for fun."

"I probably would have helped," Kibum says with a shrug.

"I probably would have filmed it," Heechul pipes up.

Siwon waves their comments away with good humour. "You guys aren't that mean. Maybe you would have slapped the books out of his hands, but that's really it."

"Maybe we aren't mean now, but that's because you made us soft. Remember when I made Go-seonsaengnim cry in freshman year just with a glare?"

The conversation readily turns to their early high school memories, which Shindong would normally have loved hearing about, but his attention is elsewhere.

The dim light afforded by the fire casts impermanent shadows on Siwon's face that alternately highlight his boyish features and give him the appearance of a grown man. Shindong watches this and feels like he's seeing the present blurring into the future before his very eyes, and he finds it especially poignant that Siwon is the focal point of that illusion considering his role in changing Shindong's own life.

He's going to miss his friends and the gentle feeling of home he managed to cultivate for himself among them, but at least he won't have to miss Siwon.

~~~

College is harder than Shindong thought it would be, but it's easier in other ways too. He plays the first semester safe (he's not trying to get his scholarship revoked before the first year is over, thank you very much); but when the second semester comes around, he knows what liberties he can take with himself to have more fun without sacrificing his studies.

So when the volleyball team holds a party and invites the basketball team, Siwon offers his plus one to Shindong, and he double-checks that he doesn't have a shift at the campus mailroom the next day… well, he doesn't say no.

It isn't the first time he's gotten drunk (there's no way you could be in Siwon's friend group for a year without sustaining at least one hangover); but after a whole semester and winter of working and studying practically non-stop, the lack of inhibitions feels better than it ever had before.

Siwon is far more drunk, however. He is as clingy as ever, introducing Shindong to all of his basketball friends (and even some strangers) and constantly slurring "I miss youuu" into his ears.

He would hate it except he loves it. He misses the guy, too, after all.

"Shindong! Let's go see the stars!"

Siwon drags Shindong to the backyard of the house holding the party, no less noisy but definitely less crowded. He happily settles down onto one of the logs around an unlit bonfire and pats the space next to him in a clear invitation. The happy grin on his face is replaced with a pout when Shindong decides to sit on a different log just to tease him, but that doesn't stop him. Siwon just moves to Shindong's log and cuddles into his friend's side, enjoying the warm feeling spreading inside him. Is it the beer or the company? In any case, it's the most cosy he's felt since school started.

Siwon chances a glance upwards at Shindong. Not for the first time, he cannot help but notice how soft the other looks in the moonlight. His cheeks always look so fluffy and pinchable, but Siwon has never wanted to hold Shindong's face more than he does right now.

When he notices that Shindong notices that he is looking at him, Siwon is just drunk enough to hold his gaze.

Siwon is just drunk enough to move his face forward, as slow as the movement ends up being. Maybe that's because he's drunk, too. He's definitely not sober enough to stop.

Then he's drunk in a different way, because Shindong is the one to bring their lips together.

The moment is perfect, even more perfect than Siwon had ever dreamed of—and oh, did he dream. In the back of his mind, he thinks about going to church three times a week from now on to thank God for this blessing.

He wants to deepen the kiss, he wants to lean closer, he wants to touch—but just as he thinks about doing any of that, Shindong pulls away with a giggle. Siwon laughs too, giddy and uninhibited as he is. He reaches for Shindong's hand and wonders how long the other has felt the same way as he did.

The hand for which Siwon had been reaching escapes to throw a bro-y, friendly punch into Siwon's shoulder. Siwon is mildly confused, but nothing can wipe the smile from his face now. He just kissed Shindong! Is right now too soon to be calling each other boyfriends?

"That wasn't so bad, right?" Shindong says as he looks back up at the sky.

Uh, right. Understatement of the century. That was amazing, stupendous, earth-shattering, future-defining—

Shindong keeps talking. "Not exactly how I thought that was gonna happen, but there's no planning for these sorts of things anyway. What's college for if not experimenting and cutting loose?"

Siwon's lovestruck internal monologue stutters to a stop. "What?"

"Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest guy I know—full stop—but if kissing you doesn't make me feel something, then I definitely must be straight." Shindong starts cackling then, like he said the funniest joke in the world.

Siwon's hearing fails him, but all he can think about now is how badly he wants to rewind time.

He wants to go back to before he knew what Shindong's lips felt like.

He wants to go back to before he had the first drink.

He wants to go back to before he even met Shindong.

"I gotta go," he manages to say, crushed as he is under the weight of the guilt he felt when that last thought traitorously passed through his head.

Shindong laughs harder when he watches Siwon stumble away. Poor guy must be so drunk. He might not even make it to the bathroom in time.

~~~

Avoiding Shindong isn't as hard as one would think. They're different majors. They live in different residence halls. He has the basketball team too, and Shindong was never the kind of person that keeps up with all his friends' activities anyway. A little "Sorry, I'm meeting someone for a project" here, a little "Sorry, Coach is slamming us with extra practise" there, and a whole semester passes by without spending extended time with his best friend and—he's not afraid to say it now—the love of his young life.

And that's exactly why he needs to avoid Shindong. He can't face Shindong casually right now—not when the only thing that will be occupying his mind is the look on Shindong's face immediately before, not when his palms itch to touch the other's cheeks so he can fold that feeling into his memory. He can't know what it's like to kiss Shindong and not be able to kiss him again.

So he's depressed, he's lonely, and he's irritable—exactly the kind of mindset you want to be in when you meet someone new.

"Hi, I don't think we really talked before," the lanky kid says as he stands up straight from where he was leaning beside the open door to Siwon's room. "I'm Hyukjae, but my friends call me Eunhyuk. I live down the hall." He points over his shoulder with his thumb as if Siwon didn't know which hall he was referring to, and the gesture immediately gets on his nerves.

Siwon glares at him, and the guy—Hyukjae; they're not friends—smiles a wide, gummy grin. "Sorry to bother you like this, but I noticed you were taking your stuff to your car. Are you packing your things into storage for the summer?" Siwon nods mutely, unsure where the other is going with this and approximately three seconds away from blowing him off.

"Listen, I have, like," he pauses to rummage around in his pockets and count the pieces of paper he pulls out, "10000 won on me right now. If I give you that and pay for gas and—I don't know—buy you dinner afterwards, would you help me move mine into storage too?"

Siwon's glare turns incredulous, which makes Hyukjae facepalm. "Oh! And of course I would help you move your stuff. That's a given. Although… you certainly don't look like you need the help."

At this last statement, Eunhyuk gives him a quick once over, and Siwon bristles. This whole situation is really grating on him. Why did this guy look at him like that? Why does it bother him that he did? Why is he supremely against this mildly reasonable request?

(Well, he knows why, and that's only adding to his frustration.)

Hyukjae senses how close Siwon is to turning tail, so he resorts to drastic measures. "Bro, help me out," he begs as he clasps his hands and falls to his knees. "I live all the way out in Ilsan, and I don't have a car. I would be, like, super indebted to you!"

"Ilsan isn't that far away," Siwon points out unimpressedly.

"Indebted!"

He stares at the boy's pout, the hands grasping cumbled bills of won, and the mullet-esque hair and thinks he might actually be more pathetic than even Siwon feels these days.

"... Alright."

Siwon ignores the other's resulting cheers as he returns to his task. He figures that the sooner he gets this over with, the faster he can go back home for the summer.

~~~

Like Siwon said, Ilsan isn't that far away.

As in, he and Hyukjae didn't have the worst time together while moving their stuff, Hyukjae decided they are now friends, and Hyukjae commutes into Seoul every other weekend to pester Siwon into hanging out with him.

In the beginning, he had no problems brushing the other off. Hyukjae isn't bad people necessarily, but he's a brat.

Case in point: The first time he actually agreed to hang out, Hyukjae forgot his wallet and Siwon begrudgingly paid for their excursions that day. Hyukjae hasn't brought his wallet with him since.

After that first time, however, it became harder and harder to turn Hyukjae down. He's depressed, he's lonely, he's irritable—but somehow none of that has pushed Hyukjae away yet. Against his better judgement, Siwon cannot help but be drawn to the individual who is experiencing the worst Siwon has to offer and chooses to spend time with him anyway. It's… nice.

The summer proceeds like that: Eunhyuk having a new hare-brained adventure haphazardly planned for the day, Siwon's wallet finding itself thousands of won lighter each time, and Siwon slowly getting out of his funk and coming back to himself.

Even as the summer draws to a close and their event options dwindle down, Eunhyuk manages to find something for them to do. A couple of weeks before they're set to move back in for the beginning of the next school year, Eunhyuk takes Siwon to a trendy new pop-up cafe in Itaewon.

Siwon likes it. It's lively but not too loud, the food isn't half bad, and the interior is fresh-looking without being overly cute.

He doesn't say any of this though, mostly because Eunhyuk isn't really saying anything either.

It's a testament to how much he feels like his old self again that he strongly considers asking the other what's wrong. Old Siwon wouldn't have hesitated. New Siwon rationalises if something is really bothering the other, Eunhyuk would say something himself.

He's halfway through his cheesecake when Eunhyuk lets his fork clatter to his plate. "Siwon, there's never gonna be a good time or a good way to say this, so I'm just gonna say it. I like you."

Well, of course Eunhyuk likes him. He basically spent the whole summer with Siwon. The surprising part here is that Siwon means it when he says, "I like you, too."

Eunhyuk's eyes do something funny, then he shakes his head. "No, like—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and on the exhale he says, "Wanna go on a date with me?"

"... Oh."

And then Siwon's senses shift. His heart beat speeds up just a fraction more than it had been before Eunhyuk began talking, but he can't hear the crowd of the cafe anymore. Everything behind Eunhyuk's determined, hopeful face blurs into a mess of colours and light. When he swallows, he still has the aftertaste of the strawberry syrup from the cheesecake on his tongue.

"Um, okay," is all he says, but he can feel his lips tug upward in a small grin without his direction.

Siwon is greeted with a gummy smile, familiar yet new, and he cannot help but focus in on the revealed shade of pink.

~~~

Honestly, he forgets about Siwon.

There's only so many times he can get blown off before he stops trying to reach out in the first place, you know? Then midterms came around, then it was finals season, then he was too wrapped up in trying to find an on-campus job for the summer so that he wouldn't have to waste money and time moving out of his residence hall… Before he knows it, it's been a year since he and the guys had their beach day, and he uncomfortably realises he can't remember the last time he spoke to Siwon. Was it at that party in the beginning of last semester? That can't be right.

And yet, for a reason he cannot explain, he doesn't immediately reach out to Siwon first.

He starts off with Kangin, who hasn't made it to a team yet but has met with several scouts already and believes it's just a matter of time. Heechul answers him in English, of all things, and he has to use a translation app to find out that Heechul spent seven months in Australia as a freelance Hangul-speaking museum guide before coming back to South Korea to work at a brewery out in Jeju-do. When he texts Kibum asking if Kangin had made good on his promise to buy 100 units of whatever his latest commercial was selling, Kibum simply says, "lol."

Finally, the only one left is Siwon. Shindong is weirdly anxious to talk to him again, but he firmly pushes that aside.

He tries a text at first; but after two days with no response, he ups the ante.

"Hello?"

"Siwon-ah!" he cheers into the receiver. It had been so long since he heard Siwon's voice, and just the sound of it lifts his mood.

"Shindong-hyung, you called me." Siwon's voice sounds incredulous, and it makes him laugh. They're not people for phone calls, admittedly. It wasn't necessary back when they spent almost all their waking moments together.

"Hey, if you had just texted me back, I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures."

Silence, then chuckles on the other end of the line. "Yeah, that one's on me, isn't it? I did that thing where I read it but only replied to it in my head."

Shindong waits for more, but Siwon doesn't continue from there. "So, um, what's been up with you lately?" he asks stiltedly. He frowns; he and Siwon don't do small talk. He tries again, "Did I mention I'm on campus for the summer? I got a job as the front desk guy at the Alumni Office. It has its boring moments, but at least I didn't have to move out of the dorms. I know some of the guys on my floor even rented a storage unit so that they wouldn't have to move back and forth with their stuff, which is just… so far beyond my budget right now, haha."

Siwon makes a funny noise like he choked on his own spit. "Siwon?!" Shindong calls concernedly into the line.

"It's fine, hyung," Siwon croaks out. "Listen, you kinda caught me at a bad time. I'd love to talk more, but I gotta go."

"Oh, sure," Shindong says in surprise. "See you when the school year starts up again, yeah?"

He holds onto the phone tightly. He doesn't know what he's wanting to hear exactly, but he waits in anticipation for Siwon's response anyway.

"Yeah, of course. See you later, Shindong."

The line clicks silent, and Shindong doesn't let himself read into it. Like Siwon said, it was just a bad time.

~~~

The new school year isn't terribly different from the previous one, but Siwon likes what it brings. He's still balancing the basketball team and classes, but he has Eunhyuk now. Eunhyuk introduces him to his best friend Donghae, and college starts feeling less like something happening to him and more like something he's living.

Early into the new semester finds the three of them grabbing lunch on campus, Siwon and Eunhyuk playing footsie under the table and ignoring Donghae's gags in the background. They're not really talking about anything important, so the conversation is easily derailed by the sound of someone hollering from across the student union.

"Siwon! Ya, Siwon!"

Siwon temporarily freezes. He didn't expect to hear that voice again so soon. He can feel his face do something funny as his body and his mind fight for control over what to do. He wants to play it cool; he wants to ignore the voice; but more than anything, he wants to see Shindong again. He has ever since the summer.

He listens to that part and turns around in his seat to wave. The sight of Shindong's eyes scrunched up in happy half-moons behind his thick-rimmed glasses makes his heart ache even as his body relaxes from tension he didn't know he was carrying. He misses Shindong.

"Siwon, you brat! I didn't hear from you much this summer, and I barely saw you last semester!" Shindong laughs jovially before turning to the other two at the table, and Siwon is surprised to remember they were there. "Hey, I'm Donghee, but you've probably heard this guy call me Shindong. Mind if I join you?"

Siwon eagerly motions for Shindong to grab a chair, and Donghae says, "Hey, Donghee. I'm Donghae." as if it were the most clever observation in the world.

Siwon eyes Shindong's politely amused grin and cannot help but laugh. God, he forgot how funny Shindong could be even when he isn't trying. The other brings a seat over to their table and chats pleasantly with Donghae, and Siwon takes the moment to take in the changes in his best friend.

His face is slightly less pudgy, but the puffy round cheeks Siwon loves so much are fully on display. He has a tiny ponytail sticking straight up from the crown of his fluffy hair, and it reminds Siwon of elementary schoolers on picture day in a way that warms his heart. He notices the suspenders and khakis combination that the other is wearing and remembers how hard it was for Shindong to get used to not having to wear a uniform to school anymore. It seems he finally settled on something that worked for him, as nerdy as it ended up looking. (Somehow, that is endearing, too.)

"Siwon, what's your weekend look like? We should do something, just you and me. Grab some newspapers, eat gyoza, catch up. You in?"

Siwon would like nothing more and almost automatically agrees. Luckily, before he could land himself in hot water with his excitement, his brain supplies that he and Eunhyuk were supposed to picnic in the park this weekend. He flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend, asking without words if he could go.

Eunhyuk nods, so Siwon says yes, and it feels like a piece of him that was asleep finally wakes up.

~~~

They're best friends again in no time.

Sure, there were some awkward instances when Shindong or Siwon would refer to memories that the other wasn't there for in a stilted reminder that there is time lost between them, but they easily catch each other up and fall back into old habits. Their lives intertwine in the seamless way they did back in high school, and Siwon's heart feels so full.

He can't help but ignore the red flags as a result. The more active he and Shindong are in each other's lives, the more he is aware of the fact that Shindong does not know the full extent of his relationship with Eunhyuk; and he admits he has made small—inconsequentially, really—concessions to keep it that way.

He's starting to suspect that Eunhyuk knows something is up, too. It brings him a little bit of guilt, but it's not like he's completely avoiding his boyfriend (been there, done that). Besides, the other hasn't said anything. He even invites Siwon over one weekend, so Siwon figures he probably hasn't messed up too badly yet.

When cuddling on the bed with legs intertwined while watching a movie turns into roaming fingertips and forgotten laptops droning on in the background, Siwon feels content like never before.

"Why does it feel like it's been forever since I kissed you?" he murmurs into Eunhyuk's hair afterwards, planting a kiss right there and embracing his boyfriend closer to his chest. He'd love to fall asleep like this…

But then Eunhyuk gently releases himself from Siwon's hold and sits upright in bed. "I have a feeling it has to do with how Donghee is hanging out with us a lot now," he says as he pulls his clothes back on.

Siwon's disappointment clears when his mind, unbidden, conjures up the memory of Shindong's reaction when he caught Heechul rounding second base with his date when they all went to the movies together one time. "Yeah, Shindong isn't big on PDA," he says as he follows Eunhyuk's lead.

"Sure, but I'm your boyfriend," Eunhyuk emphasises. "Hand-holding, kissing… stuff like that is pretty typical for most couples. He knows what he would be getting into when he hangs out with us, and he still shows up. Doesn't seem to me like it would really bother him."

Siwon's movement falters. So Eunhyuk has noticed. "I guess I'm just trying to be a little courteous," he hurries to say, the not-quite-a-lie sitting heavy on his tongue. "He doesn't know you yet, and I don't want to give my best friend any reason to dislike my boyfriend."

Siwon puts on his most convincing, disarming grin, and it somehow makes things worse. "You know, it's funny," Eunhyuk begins with light tone absolutely lacking in amusement, "Donghee's supposedly your best friend, but I haven't even heard of him before this semester. It's clear he hasn't heard of me either. Wanna explain why?"

Siwon frowns at the accusation. "He is my best friend." He may not have acted like it for a while there, but that fact will never change. It's just… "We weren't really, ah, talking much at around the time you and I met." He wants to stop there, but Eunhyuk raises an expectant eyebrow. "Um, remember that time in the student union? That was, sorta, the first time we had spoken in eight months."

The admission completely melts all of Eunhyuk's cold and angry tension, and the sight makes him even more antsy for some reason. Siwon is acutely aware that he didn't answer the entirety of his boyfriend's question, but the other is already moving on.

"You get why I'm bothered, right?" Eunhyuk asks as he sits back on the bed, and yes, Siwon does finally start to get how bothered the other really is. He's never seen Eunhyuk so despondent before. His entire being radiates tired sadness, and Siwon realises with a pang that he did that to him."This guy that I've never met before just shows up one day, and my boyfriend starts acting completely different around him!" Eunhyuk's pout has a chilling effect on Siwon without the hint of flirtation to which he was so accustomed, and Siwon has him wrapped up in a side-hug as if on autopilot. Eunhyuk happily cuddles into the embrace and lays his head on Siwon's shoulder, but Siwon barely notices, too consumed by the weight spreading all over his body.

He's fucked up.

He hasn't been going about this correctly at all, and it's hurting his boyfriend, and that hurts him, and he's fucked up.

He stands abruptly. "I gotta go."

"What?"

Siwon can barely hear the shocked hurt in his boyfriend's voice, he's so preoccupied with the immense and all-consuming guilt that weighs down his limbs. He can't get out of the apartment fast enough. He needs space; he needs more room so that terrible feeling that is expanding within him has somewhere else to go.

"Siwon, where are you going?!" Eunhyuk hurries after him and manages to intercept Siwon before he could open the door. If he were more himself, he'd chuckle at how his boyfriend, 9 centimetres shorter and 5 kilograms lighter, is trying to bodily prevent him from leaving; but in his state, even a feather could knock Siwon over.

"There's something you're not telling me, and I'm not letting you leave the apartment until you do. What is going on between you and Donghee?" he demands.

"Nothing!" Siwon despairs, and it's the truth.

"Why are you lying to me!"

"I've never lied to you," and that is also the truth.

"But you are keeping something from me." There's nothing Siwon can say to that, so he fidgets where he stands. Eunhyuk laughs mirthlessly. "And it's related to Donghee, too, isn't it? How long did you think you could go without telling me, huh? Did you think I wouldn't notice?!"

Siwon is still in flight mode, his brain is still foggy, so he latches onto the only coherent thought he has just so that he can respond to Eunhyuk. "Why don't you call him Shindong?"

Eunhyuk seizes in incredulous frustration. "Can you focus!? That is so beyond the point!"

Siwon closes his eyes and rubs his hands down his face in resigned acknowledgement. Yes, that was the wrong thing to say. "Hyuk, I'm sorry but… I really, really have to go. I need some time; I need to think. You deserve better than the first thought that pops into my head, but I can't give you that right here, right now."

Eunhyuk's shiny eyes are devastating even under the fluorescent glare of his apartment lights, and Siwon's heart urges him to do something. He steps forward, arms outstretched, but Eunhyuk steps out of his reach. "No, please," he says simply. He hastily wipes away the tears that pool at the rim of his eyes and looks anywhere but at Siwon. "When you touch me, I feel better even when I don't want to."

Siwon lets his arms fall back to his side. The need to leave wars with his need to comfort, so he does nothing.

Eunhyuk sniffles once, twice, then says, "Whenever something happens to me—big or small, bad or good—you've become the first person I wanna tell it to. Nothing feels real until I've told you about it." He hugs himself and turns away. "But you don't even want to talk to me."

Eunhyuk walks back to his room and lightly closes the door behind him, a silent cue for Siwon to leave. When he finally does several moments later, the image of Eunhyuk rejecting his touch replays in his mind, and his heart rebels with every step.

~~~

With time and distance, Siwon realises a lot of things about himself.

He's always wanted his first real relationship to be with someone he shared a lot with, someone he didn't have to force himself to spend time with or get to know, someone who made it all easy yet made the difficult parts worth it. He admits to himself that he always wanted his first real relationship to be with Shindong, but that evidently wasn't possible. Just when he had given up on that dream (and on himself), he found all of it and more in Eunhyuk, who literally showed up unannounced, bribed his way into Siwon's life, and pestered Siwon into letting him stay. Without knowing any of the details and without asking any questions, Eunhyuk managed to shake Siwon out of the depressive episode he was in simply by being himself. The warm excitement that coloured their days together were noted but taken for granted, and the cold emptiness that replaces it in the aftermath of their fight is frighteningly familiar. He regrets that it took the undeniable pain that can only come from heartbreak for him to realise that he had fallen in love with Eunhyuk, but at least he knows now.

He also now knows he's a coward.

He was a coward back in senior year when he couldn't tell Shindong why he asked the other to prom, he was a coward last semester when he cut Shindong out of his life for accidentally breaking his heart, and he's a coward now.

With Shindong is back in his life, Siwon thought he could somehow keep both his past love and his current love in the exact ways he wanted them without having to have any uncomfortable conversations, that the two of them would get along fabulously, and that Siwon's happiness would simply fall into place.

He also now knows he's an idiot.

Siwon has always prided himself on being a man of action. He had enough time and distance to reflect, recalibrate, and reload, so it is time for him to gather his courage and react.

He texts Shindong to do homework together at his place then immediately goes out to buy some food just to have something to do with the nervous energy that buzzes within him. He even buys snacks that he knows only Shindong likes because he needs every advantage he can get. He returns with no less pent-up energy than with which he started, so he sets to cleaning the whole apartment. He even attempts to do his homework to distract himself before he remembers homework is the ruse he told Shindong to lure the other over.

His nervous energy is apparent the second Shindong steps foot in the apartment. "Okay…" Shindong drags out as he plops his stuff onto the kitchen table that doubles as Siwon's desk. "Is there a major exam you're freaking out about or something? I can't promise I know anything, but I can promise to help you study."

Siwon lets a ghost of a smile cross his face, fondly remembering their intense study sessions back in high school that none of their friends were brave enough to join more than once. The memory passes, and he sighs. "No, it's not about class."

Shindong gestures. "Well? Out with it then. You know I'm just gonna leave if you're not gonna focus, and I really don't want to leave when there's an unopened pack of honey apple twists right there."

Honey apple twists are also Eunhyuk's favourite, so Siwon starts there.

"Eunhyuk is a man of questionable taste," Shindong pontificates as he munches on the newly opened snack. "He loves honey apple twists but hates seafood. He's best friends with Donghae but spends all his free time with you. What an enigma."

Siwon tries to chuckle, but it doesn't work. He takes a deep breath instead. He can't think of anything else to say except: "I think he's in love with me."

Shindong stops chewing. "What?"

"I think Eunhyuk and I spend a lot of time together because he's in love with me."

Shindong frowns, brows furrowed and looking genuinely upset. It takes Siwon aback for long enough that he gets distracted. "What?" he parrots.

"Dude, that's fucked up."

"What are you talking ab—"

"You can't just string him along like that! What is he gonna do when he finds out you don't like guys? Bro, if Heechul were here right now—actually, I'm just gonna call him because maybe you need to hear why that's fucked up from someone who gets it."

And there it was.

Every unspoken fear he'd ever had, every answer to his heartbreak, every problem he never solved.

He reaches out with his head down and gently stops Shindong's hand, halfway to dialling their high school friend whom Siwon hasn't spoken to since graduation. "I love him, in any case," he says to the ground.

Shindong lets his hand hold his phone in midair. "What?"

Siwon takes a breath, counts to three, and lifts his head to look Shindong in the eyes. "Shindong, Eunhyuk and I are dating. He's my boyfriend. He has been since the summer."

Shindong says nothing.

"I'm gay," Siwon says at last, so easily, because he knows that's not going to be the hardest confession of the night.

As soon as he says it, he can see the way so much clicks into place in Shindong's astute, masterful, beautiful mind.

"Is that why I haven't seen you since last semester," Shindong says instead of asks, "because you realised after our kiss and didn't want to tell me."

But not even Shindong can draw the correct conclusion when he isn't provided with every relevant fact. If he could, they would have cleared the air so long ago.

"No," Siwon says as he draws away, clasping his hands tight on his lap and wishing he could have told Eunhyuk he was gonna do this. He'd have said something to cheer Siwon up, and Siwon would remember that now, and it could give him courage. The only thing he has right now is the truth.

"No, that was because I was in love with you, and I realised you'd never love me back, and I needed time."

The silence that stretches out between them is awkward like no silence has ever been, even in the first few times they hung out again after reconnecting.

"For how long?" Shindong finally says.

Siwon tries to remember but finds he can't. It must have been one of those things that wasn't tied to any specific event, but a slow build until the whole of the structure was unmistakable. "Since the beginning, basically," he eventually settles on. "Not since the first day we met, no, but very, very close to it. I barely remember a time when I didn't know you and wasn't already in love with you."

"I see."

He finally looks at Shindong, who notices and meets his gaze for a moment before looking down at the table. In that one moment, Siwon could tell from Shindong's eyes that he can see now. He can tell the way Shindong is re-remembering every interaction they've ever had in a new light, and he simply waits. He has no more cards left to play.

Finally, Shindong looks back at him and says, "You should have told me. We should have talked about it. I could have been there for you."

Siwon smiles bittersweetly and looks away. "But not in the way I wanted you to be, and that's why I never said anything. No doubt, you would have absolutely been there. You would have been your funny, action-oriented, perfect self, within arms' reach but not mine for me to hold, and it would have broken me. Broken me worse than if you had dropped me as a friend completely."

Shindong is taken aback by the strength of Siwon's words, the seriousness with which he said them. "You must have been really in love with me."

Siwon turns the bittersweet smile to him then, tears shining in his eyes, and says, "So much. I loved you so much."

Shindong's heart breaks for his friend, his best friend, who suffered all alone and all on his account. He fiercely tugs Siwon into a hug and lets Siwon cry out every tear, every emotion, every everything from the last two years, all while murmuring "I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry" into his friend's shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I loved you, too. I still do," he says when Siwon's tears subside into sniffles, but the younger is still clinging onto him. Shindong won't let go until he does.

"I know. I know you did, do. Me too," Siwon hiccups out.

With one last squeeze, he pulls away to give Shindong a watery but bright-eyed smile, and Shindong gives him one right back. The clock in the kitchen tells him they were only like that for seven minutes, but in that time it feels like they just relived every day of their entire friendship, finally on the same page.

"I'm in the mood for pizza," he says abruptly, reaching for his phone forgotten on the table. "Do you still like pineapples with yours?"

Siwon chuckles while wiping away some latent tears. "Please, yes. Eunhyuk won't let me eat that around him because 'it's gross American food,'" he says with air quotes.

"Maybe Eunhyuk is a man of taste after all," Shindong says as he waits for the phone to ring. He catches Siwon's eye just to sneer, "What's he doing dating you?"

Siwon laughs, a whole-belly laugh, and gets a second wind when Shindong calmly rattles off Siwon's own credit card number for the payment information.

~~~

It's been almost two weeks since Eunhyuk last spoke to Siwon, the memory of his boyfriend's face as he begged for time haunting his undistracted moments. He's busied himself with dance practice, homework, and even once tried accompanying Donghae to the gym just to get his mind off of how much more lonely he feels. It was pretty bad before when Eunhyuk was convincing himself that the way his boyfriend was pulling away was all in his head, but with confirmation from Siwon himself, it just got so much worse.

Donghee—He's not about to start calling him by that ridiculous nickname. The only thing Donghee is good at, as far as he's concerned, is ruining his mood—first came into the picture like spilled paint across a canvas: completely and all at once where before there was none. He showed up at group hangouts and even tagged along to his and Siwon's casual day dates, sometimes at Siwon's own behest!

Siwon also didn't touch Eunhyuk as much when Donghee was around, which is saying something because Siwon is literally the clingiest man in all of South Korea. To have such a gentle, romantic, constant aspect of his relationship almost completely stop without explanation… Of course Eunhyuk was lonely. The only thing that stopped him from saying something sooner was how undeniably happy Siwon was with Donghee back in his life, and Eunhyuk didn't want to ruin that for him.

But now it seems like their whole relationship is ruined instead, and the idea that this is how it all ends makes him even more miserable.

It is during one of these pessimistic slumps that he gets a text from Siwon that he, Donghae, and Donghee are working on the quad together. Siwon signs it with "I miss you 😘," and Eunhyuk's heart clenches. He misses Siwon too, but he's not really in the mood to watch him and Donghee together.

He realises he's not really in the mood to be alone right now either. He considers texting Donghae to fake some emergency so that he could be with Eunhyuk, but Donghae texts him first. "don't bail i promise."

The fact that Donghae, the only one who happens to know the full extent of Eunhyuk's insecurities and worries about the situation, is the one saying that piques his interest. If Donghae thinks it'll be safe for him, Eunhyuk will trust that.

He sees them before they see him, and it plays out slowly like a movie. They're all sitting in a quasi-circle on the grass in the middle of a laugh. The scene is so picturesque, and the jealous pang in his chest rings loud and true.

He almost turns on his heel right then and there, but Siwon notices him before he can.

Siwon's smile is bright and free, and he makes grabby hands for Eunhyuk like he hasn't in a while. Eunhyuk's feet carry him forward without him telling them to, and he has a feeling that was his heart leading. Despite it all, next to Siwon is where he wants to be.

He settles into the space by Siwon with a little unease, which dissipates completely when Siwon shifts them so that Eunhyuk is between his open legs and Siwon is giving him a cosy backhug. As much as he wants nothing else, Eunhyuk fights the urge to lean in, acutely aware of Donghee's presence.

"Siwon-ah." Eunhyuk squirms. "I'm 'Siwon-ah' now, not 'Siwonnie?'" He can hear Siwon's pout even as the other squeezes Eunhyuk to himself tighter. He puts a little more effort into escaping Siwon's embrace, but Siwon simply uses his legs to lock him in.

Eunhyuk laughs; he can't help it. He wiggles as frantically as possible—not to actually get out of Siwon's hold, just to give him a hard time trying to hold on—and Siwon playfully bites his ear to get him to stop. Eunhyuk lets out a mock gasp, prepared to do something drastic, when all of a sudden they both tumble onto the grass.

Eunhyuk looks up to see Donghee calmly returning to his spot, acting like he did nothing wrong and ignoring how Donghae assaults his back with amusement. "I've wanted to do that for forever!" Donghae cackles.

In embarrassment, he begins to sit up, but Siwon doesn't let him, instead pulling Eunhyuk back down and on top of him. He looks for the reason why in Siwon's eyes, and Siwon just gives him a small smile before leaning up to brush his lips against Eunhyuk's. It was a soft little thing, but it calms him down nevertheless.

He folds his hands on Siwon's chest and rests his head on top of them, facing the side where the other two weren't sitting. "I thought Shindong isn't big on PDA," he repeats, keeping his voice neutral but loud enough for Siwon to hear. In this position, he can hear Siwon's heartbeat as he plays with the collar of Siwon's shirt. He doesn't know what to make of its calm and strong cadence when he knows the other can feel his own heart rate spike in nervousness.

"You're my boyfriend, though," Siwon maintains, echoing their conversation from a week before with the roles noticeably reversed.

Eunhyuk jerks his head up to face the other. He doesn't think Siwon has called him his boyfriend in front of Donghee yet before.

Siwon must see something in his face because he reaches up to hold one of the hands on his chest and squeezes twice. I'm sorry about that, it says. We'll talk about everything later. Eunhyuk nods, looking at Siwon with so much trust in his eyes that Siwon smiles the same wide, happy grin that made Eunhyuk fall for him in the first place.

With a louder voice, Siwon says, "Besides, Shindong's a big guy. He'll find it within him to get over it."

"YA! DID YOU JUST MAKE A FAT JOKE ABOUT ME?!"

Siwon winks at Eunhyuk before sitting them upright and into a more casual cuddle, Eunhyuk against Siwon's side and Siwon's arm across Eunhyuk's shoulder.

Eunhyuk ignores the ensuing banter between Siwon, Shindong, and Donghae, instead looking up to observe his boyfriend. Siwon's different again, but in a good way, he decides. For the first time since they met, Siwon looks completely unburdened, completely secure.

And yet he's still here, holding Eunhyuk to him like he used to, which means whatever Siwon let go of, it wasn't him.

Eunhyuk knows they still have to talk, that there’s a lot of explaining Siwon has to do and a lot of confused pain he has to work through, but he also knows there's time for that now. Siwon isn't going anywhere; and neither is he, for that matter.

He looks over at the other two across the way and muses that Shindong isn't going anywhere either, but he finds that's not such a problem anymore.

(Siwon's laugh breaks his concentration, and he notices that's different, too—better than before, even.)

In fact, he might even welcome it.

~~~

[meteor752]

The insecurity of Tilda of Mirkwood

When I write about Tilda, I mostly write a pretty unstable but still happy person who just generally craves more in life, sort of like a Disney character.

(Honestly, short side note, every time I hear either How far I’ll go or Go the Distance I can’t help but imagine her just standing on the worst place possible singing the song, like a cliff or the top of a tree, before just jumping down and nearly breaking her neck)

But Tilda has a bit more to her than that, that I didn’t really get to touch in her deep dive, mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to put it in there.

When it comes to the insecurities of Matilda Lucia Dragondaughter, it’s mostly centered around the comparison to others around her, and how she sees herself.

There wasn’t much of it when she was a child, just like any other kid she was pretty carefree and didn’t really mind that sometimes people would talk weirdly about her and her antics.

It begun around the time her da married the elven king and she moved from Dale to Mirkwood, and when Legolas officially became her brother.

Now Legolas is messy and wild, sure, but he’s still a scholar, soldier, athlete, and generally very good looking for an elf, who’s also a prince and next in line for the throne.

Sigrid is a musician, a writer, a scholar, an axe wielder, a future queen, a black smith, and the perfect daughter.

Bain is a sweetheart, an excellent peace keeper, a good soldier despite his disability, the captain of the royal guard and the dream son in law.

Tilda is an emotionally unstable screwup that can’t sit still for one second, is petty as hell, had no sense of self care, has no goal in life, and is just a general nightmare to be around.

That’s at least how she sees herself.

Now while reading this you may think ‘Meteor this sounds more like self loathing than Insecurity, what are you talking about’.

Well, we’re only getting started, because Tilda lives a long life with a lot of shit in it.

When Tilda joined the elven army, she noticed how the trainer was harsher on her than on literally anyone else.

At first she thought it was because she was human and not an elf, until she figured out that they were trying to make her quit, which confused her of why.

That was until her training was done, but unlike basically every other recruit she was only called onto small scouting missions that were generally safe and lame, and she was like oh my family set this up okay.

So she quit immediately, and then the dark times begun.

Tilda was straight up miserable after leaving the army, and would mostly sit in her room and sulk for two reasons.

One, to join the army was her one chance of living up to the standards her siblings had put, by becoming a great soldier and maybe even captain one day, but she had never been given the chance.

Two, her family had tried to make her quit, and then made sure she was only put on the safest and meekest missions there was, which only proved that they didn’t trust or believe in her.

Tilda had always wanted her time in the spotlight, her big chance, her moment to truly shine so to speak. She’d always been in the shadow of her siblings, and the only way to get out of it was to create a scene which made her family angry at her.

See it as sort of a Luna from mlp mixed with Cassandra from Tangled.

And despite the self loathing, she did know that it was only in her head and that her family and friends probably didn’t think that way of her.

But when they refused to let her be a proper soldier, she then they refused to let her go anywhere without a consort, when they refused to let her show what she was capable of, it just proved that what she thought of herself was how they thought of her too.

A screwup.

A mistake.

A spare.

So yeah, she became really depressed, and refused to talk to anyone except Aloe.

She spent a lot of time in Rivendell just to be away from her family, moping in the room she was given and barely ever coming out.

She started to put burn marks on her arms and hands, she started to jump from a bit too high heights, she started to “accidentally” cut herself sometimes.

She just wanted to feel something that wasn’t misery.

Her family tried to cheer her up, but they genuinely didn’t know what was happening since she wasn’t exactly the person to be open about her insecurities and issues, so all their efforts were in vain.

It was Aragorn, out of all people, who got her out of her hole of despair.

Legolas had sent a message to him after a few years of Tilda’s bad habits of barely eating, barely sleeping, and barely talking to anyone else.

Aragorn basically nearly kicked the door in, which nearly scared Tilda to death, before hugging her firmly and demanding that she will follow him on a hunt.

And because of the fact that Tilda respects Aragorn quite a bit, she just nods shortly.

To her surprise, Aragorn doesn’t try to make her talk of what’s going on like literally anyone else, but simply talks about other stuff that is going on in both of their lives.

Tilda ends up having a bit of a wake up call, realizing that she’d been moping for the last eight years, and just decided to get off her ass and do something with her life.

Legolas was quite surprised when Tilda just turned up one day in Mirkwood like if nothing had happened demanding that he’d go kill some spiders with her.

Despite the fact that she’d stopped sulking, she still didn’t make an attempt to better her well being and kept her negative thoughts to herself.

She simply didn’t want to be seen as weak and fragile, like so many thought of her because of her human biology and her constant inability to stay still for one second.

If her family would find out that she also thought of herself as weird and useless, then they would just pity her.

And Tilda honestly thought she was strong enough to handle it.

She was certainly not.

Every time Legolas had to leave for something, every time there was some diplomatic journey ahead, every time the elves were called into battle, she was left behind. She’d always wanted her moment of glory as I’ve previously mentioned, but how could that be given if she never even got the chance?

She just felt like she was in the way for everyone.

After she left her family behind, (Or more exactly literally escaped out the window), she felt free and happy for basically the first time in her life. It was just her and Aloe against the world, with no expectations, no one to feel like she let down, no judgment, just her and her best friend.

And it remained like that for a while, as she didn’t meet many people she didn’t need to compare herself to others.

It was first when she received the invitation to the wedding of Aragorn and Legolas that she was put back on earth again and reality hit her.

Especially when both Sigrid and Bain tried to convince her to come back to society, just so she wouldn’t hurt herself, because which angered her greatly.

She left the wedding early, angry tears in her eyes without turning back.

Which was the reason she took on a dragon and became a dragonslayer. To prove that she wasn’t a doll that would topple over any minute. To prove that she was just as capable and great as her siblings. To prove that she wasn’t just the younger sibling.

And if you’ve read the deep dive, you know how that turned out.

***

I love Tilda, she’s literallyy favorite Lotr character, which is why I write so much about her. But sometimes I just like to make characters suffer through trauma and insecurities.

This is heavily inspired by me listening to Waiting In The Wings and The Moon Rises for like 24/7 for the last few days, which are both awesome songs go listen to it.

Tilda’s way of coping with how she felt is really bad, (like seriously kids talk to someone take your meds) but from what I’ve written about her I knew she wouldn’t be the one to confront her more weak looking emotions. She was raised by elves, she’s prideful by nature.

The way Tilda feels is not that she’s not worthy of what she has, but more that she deserves more than what she has, which has to do again with the youngest sibling thing.

But honestly with the right power and proper snap, she probably could be like an mlp villain.

AU Masterpost

[af-answers]

Four Times Artemis Tries to Convince Holly to go with him to Mars and the One Time he Didn’t

The First Time | The Second Time | The Fourth Time

The Third Time

The third time was over a video call. They hadn’t talked since their spat in the spaceship a few weeks before, and Holly’s pride hadn’t allowed her to call and make peace without a different reason for contacting him.

That reason finally came when a bizarre string of kidnappings plagued Haven. The kidnapper left a carving of a human baby in the place of the taken child, in a subversion of the old changeling myth.

“Wood carvings?” Artemis clarified, leaning back in his custom-made desk chair and cradling his mug of tea against his chest.

Holly nodded. She sat at her desk as well, eating her lunch. Even though she was a commodore— or because she was— she didn’t have many friends around the office. They liked her and respected her command, but they all had their own cliques and she didn’t think it wise to join one and upset the peace of the bullpen.

“I assume Foaly has already run diagnostics and determined where the wood was harvested?”

She stabbed a clump of salad with a two-pronged fork. “Yeah. Each of the four carvings were from different trees. The first was fir, then pine, then oak, then an apple tree.”

He took a long sip of tea, staring off camera as he thought. “What were the ages of the trees? Was the apple tree the diseased?”

The elf scooted her tupperware off the files she’d truthfully only skimmed through. “It was.” She frowned at him, but he continued to stare into the middle distance stoically, waiting for her to ask. “How did you know?”

“Because people don’t typically chop down apple trees unless they are decrepit or structurally unsound.” He looked at her then, and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. She paused in her chewing.

“What?”

“I was wondering… once I’m in space, how will I keep those ever-so-important check-ups to monitor my unstable clone body?”

She snorted, loudly, so as to annoy him with how ridiculous she thought he was. “Unstable?” she said, covering her full mouth as she talked. “For years you’ve been insufferably smug about how un-unstable your unique body is.”

Truth be told, she’d also wondered how Artemis 2.0 would handle the strain of space travel. If his synthetic biology were to malfunction— she didn’t want to think about the myriad of ways Artemis could go mad or worse, with Butler helpless to heal him. She’d had half a mind to reveal Artemis’s insane venture to the Council and imply heavily they should ground him, even incarcerate him in Haven, until they determined he was space-ready. Which, with how decisive the Council was, would be never.

But Artemis had been right all those years when he said his new body functioned perfectly. In fact, free of the chemical imbalance and mutations of his first one, Clone Artemis was closer to how he would have been if he’d lived a normal, magic-free life.

“On Earth, yes,” he allowed. “But in the volatile gravities of space and other planets? I could go under some violent mutation!”

She poked at her food as if there were something very interesting in the dregs of leaves and vinaigrette dressing. “Then I’ll advise the Council to up the amount of reports per week you have to send while you’re gone,” she said.

“A report won’t help me in a crisis,” he protested. “I’ll need fairy magic.”

She frowned. “I’m not your nurse, Artemis. Neither is any other fairy. If this is really your best argument for why I should run away to Mars, I overestimated your powers of persuasion.” She tapped a finger on the desktop and Artemis, who’d been sufficiently cowed, straightened. “You didn’t answer my question. Why does it matter that the apple tree was diseased?”

Artemis tipped his head back with an exasperated sigh. “We can both agree your fairy isn’t cutting down the trees themself, yes?”

She shrugged, though she had to admit it was unlikely. Haven had some highly regulated trees, but the wood matched the surface species, which were much too large for any fairy to fell alone. She supposed it could have been a multi-diary scheme, but it seemed laughable for a fairy to manage to get topside only to mutilate trees.

“And it makes less sense to cut down four different kinds of trees and waste all that wood,” she said. “That’s why our working theory at the moment is the tree’s species have a special significance to the kidnapper.”

“A noble effort, but I believe there’s a simpler solution,” he said, keeping eye contact like a patient teacher. She wished she could punch him through the communicator. “Where else, besides a forest, can one find an assortment of travel sized wood?” he asked.

Holly screwed her eyebrows together in thought for a hard minute, then smacked herself in the forehead. “Of course, a woodpile.”

“Yes!” Artemis praised her, genuinely happy she’d caught on. “Humans cut down healthy trees like birch and oak for fuel, but they spare fruit-bearing trees unless there is something wrong with them.”

“So the perp stole their material from a human’s wood pile,” the commodore summarized. “We’re probably looking for a fairy who’s been topside in the past few months and brought back some bulky luggage.”

“Sounds like a lot of long, boring hours in front of a security screen array,” he bemoaned, typing on his personal computer. “Though you might save some time if you start here.”

Holly’s desktop computer dinged with an email alert. It was from Artemis, a list of witnesses and potential suspects. She’d had thirty-seven, he’d whittled it down to five.

“Where did you get these names?” she asked. She knew Artemis and Foaly had a hacking war ongoing— it was common knowledge at this point— but he’d never hacked her personal devices.

He pointed to her own desk, and the files strewn across it. “I can read upside down.”

Holly smirked, but swept the files into a drawer.

“I’ll have Foaly look into these fairies’ recent travel plans,” she said. “In the mean time, I’ll put some uniforms on their tails ASAP.”

Artemis watched her with a hard-lined brow as she forwarded the list to Foaly with a short debrief of their conversation.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Commodore,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well I could look into their travel histories myself, but to be honest, Foaly is better with computers than I am.”

He chuckled, his brow easing. “I mean, if you’d worked on this case for another hour, you would have come to this conclusion yourself. This isn’t challenging enough to consult me.” He squinted at her and, to her eternal mortification, she looked away. “Why did you really call me, Commodore Short?”

She met his gaze again, defiantly. “Because you’re so eager to show off your vast intellect that you’ll do my job for me.”

He nodded, his mug hovering under his nose. “You do realize that, after I leave, these little chats will be much harder to come by.”

Holly swallowed hard. She hadn't realized, but to be fair, her life didn’t revolve around Artemis Fowl. Nor did she want it to, which was part of the reason she turned him down. But the idea she couldn’t just pick up a communicator and see him any time made her throat constrict.

When she didn’t reply he leaned forward, closer to the camera on his tablet. “I’ve picked up the phone to call you half a dozen times,” he confided. “My apologies, Commodore. This voyage is of utmost importance to me, but I never meant for it to hinder our friendship. Especially not now.”

She opened her mouth to ask him to elaborate, to say she forgave him, but her computer dinged again. She opened the e-mail, this one from Foaly.

“Did he find something of import?” Artemis asked leaning back again.

“Oh yeah,” she said, scanning the attached images. “Much import.”

[voiceofghilannain]

The Voice of Ghilan’nain: Introduction to my Blog

My beloved subjects: This is my first post on this blog so I will take a moment to introduce myself. My name is Gerasimos (though Jerry is what I usually introduce myself as out of courtesy, as both my name and surname sound like gibberish to most people). I’m a 23-year-old male biology student currently studying in Greece, and an aspiring entrepreneur with quite a long way ahead until I make that dream come true.

Before I introduce you to this blog, I would like to say a few more words about myself. I am a firm believer in education (scientific, technological, and financial) and I do enjoy learning new things, especially if they can be used to solve problems. I am interested in astronomy, biology with emphasis on plant biology, game design, and video game art. I also enjoy walking outdoors, cooking, relaxing at a beach while stargazing, talking about politics and money, teasing the cat (my friend, not the feline pet) and playing video games. 

In regards to the latest subject, Bioware’s Mass Effect was the first RPG game I ever played. Though it took me a year to appreciate it due to its lackluster gameplay and limited weapon options, I eventually managed to see it for what it was rather than what I wanted it to be. I played through the trilogy with a dictionary next to me as my English skills were laughable back then. It was through Mass Effect and later Halo that I built my English skills, with the later giving me the opportunity to be part of a great community filled with incredible members such as Haruspis, Covenant Canon, HiddenXperia, LateNightGaming, and Halo Canon. I also had my ride as part of the Halo Archive community, with wonderful discussions and theories throughout the years, and I was fortunate enough to watch the community grow from 40 to over 2000 members and survive several crises until its eventual collapse. During the three or so years that I was part of the Halo Archive (known there as Faber of Will and Might), I got to see video games as far more than just games and develop a passion for delving deep into the lore of video game franchises and their extended media. It is for this reason, that I would like to take a moment and thank every member of the Halo Archive for the incredible conversations and debates we had during that time and particularly Haruspis, whose incredible analyses partially inspired me to start this endeavour (You can visit his blog by clicking here: https://haruspis.blog).

It was during the end of my first year at University that I got into tabletop gaming, but it took several years for me to discover the existence of Dragon Age. Eventually, both the release of disappointing games, like Halo 5: Guardians and Mass Effect Andromeda, and toxic fans caused my interest in these franchises to wane and the Halo Archive to fade. This caused me to search for new franchisees to fall in love with and this is how I got into the world of Dragon Age, starting with Inquisition. THE Dragon Age Setting is currently my favourite fantasy setting and the reason I started making “my own” tabletop RPG for it in order to play Inquisition with my friends. I used the quotation marks in the previous sentence because I started by homebrewing for the Official Tabletop DA RPG with each update and homebrew rule making it more and more distinct from the RPG it derived from and pushing it closer to the feel of the games, with mechanics like Barrier, Guard, Status Effects, Critical Hits, the addition of several dozen warrior, rogue and mage abilities and spells, the removal of the stunt mechanic, the introduction of sustained abilities and many more features.

I have always found Medieval English themed settings and happy worlds boring and dull. I don’t see fiction as escapism from problems but as an opportunity to do things I would normally be unable to do, such as setting foot on alien worlds, standing against the Covenant as they kill billions in their genocidal campaign or simply playing as an elf that throws fireballs at sleeping targets in the midsts of a death cloud and then paralyzing them or scaring them to death by casting Horror. Due to my bias against the classic medieval fantasy setting, Ferelden is the least interesting part of the Dragon Age setting for me. I do enjoy the extravagant gold and blue themes of Orlais, the Necropolis of Nevarra, the villainous city of Kirkwall, the Blighted Anderfels, the decadent Rome/Byzantium inspired Tevinter cities, the war-torn Seheron, the pirate heaven of Estwatch, the exotic Rivain and Par Vollen, the assassin filled Antiva and the mystery of the tainted Black City far more than the mostly bland Ferelden. It is thanks to these locations and their stories that, for me, Thedas trumps any setting with a million races each worth half a page of text or settings made for adventurers that go on a killing spree to get rich within a fixed world that refuses to change.

Thedas is a continent that never stops changing. Old feuds are resolved and new conflicts emerge. Racism, blood magic, squandering nobles, the blight and other horrors make the life of most people in the setting a challenge at best and a nightmare at worst. Within the span of three games, the setting has changed dramatically and the world has moved forward. Thedas is thus very different from what it used to be when Dragon Age Origins released. Being dynamic and reacting to player choice is a very important aspect of the setting, which is both a testament to Bioware’s own talent and the setting’s innate simplicity.

Thedas’ richness doesn’t derive from an army of races or from endless classes and deities, but from its smaller scale, with fewer races and emphasis on the dynamics between their societies and the struggles that various groups, societies, scholars, nations and individuals face. With fewer things in the setting, there is more room for them to be fleshed out and explored in depth. Furthermore, Thedas has a rich history, exposed to players mostly via codex entries written from an in-universe perspective. This allows events to be portrayed differently depending on whose perspective they have been witnessed by, encourages fan discussions and theories, turns new contradicting information into a quest for the truth that often results in revisiting old passages and finding new meanings after certain revelations. Unlike most fictional universes, Dragon Age’s lore takes effort to extract and while this might not be for everyone it has kept the community far more engaged and alive throughout the years.

Thedas is a land full of mysteries filled with danger. The Horror of Hormak, the Black City and the Blights, the Old Gods, Arlathan, the curse of Nahar, the Pyramids of Par Vollen, the Kossith, the ships from beyond the Volca Sea, the Executors, the history of the Dwarves, the Second Sin, the Cekorax and many more are all shrouded by the element of the unknown, which drives the curiosity, fear, dread, nostalgia and most feelings associated with them. It is elements like these that make me want to write about and share with others stories set in this world, whether official or my own.

Thus, after several months of thinking about it, I decided to create my own blog about Dragon Age. The Voice of Ghilan’nain is a blog named after my favourite Elven Goddess, Ghilan’nain, with me acting as an echo of her guiding voice through the world of Thedas. Just like She focused on creation, so will this blog focus on the things that can be, the transformation of what exists and the discussion of content that many people don’t talk about, navigating through the darkest, deepest and most obscure parts of the lore in search of stories, characters, creatures and their potential, expressing it either through my analyses or through attempts at poetry and short story writing. I will also make some posts that serve as feedback for Bioware on issues regarding gameplay mechanics, UI and story and if people are willing I can provide a few builds or ideas for DMs who want to introduce their friends to the world of Thedas through tabletop gaming. With that said, I hope you enjoy reading my future posts and I am looking forward to your feedback, suggestions and comments.

And now the melody begins, calling you to the depths of darkness:

Na melana sah’lin, La mala suledin nadas. Vir’enfenim ghilana Sulevin’an. Ma garas mir renan La ir las mir enansal.

[charbax]

Wintersend’s Exchange

A gift for @dovabunny in the Fenders Wintersend Exchange! They requested: 

Homeless Fen and doctor/nurse Anders who always tries to feed and dress warmly his elf. Fenris doesnt want or trust charity, he wants to be seen as a man - not a project.

also available on my AO3

It started in the winter. A winter’s night, precisely, when Anders is locking the clinic’s door after a day of treating injuries, maladies, and general complaining from late stragglers. Luckily, his Maker-sent secretary was more than happy to handle the last part (read: forcibly showing them the door by social convention or force) and when the patient line dwindled to none, he sent her home. That had been hours ago. Now, it was late, and Anders was more than ready to flip the sign from open to closed and head upstairs for some well-deserved rest.

No sooner than his fingers brushed against the card than someone rapped against the door. Anders sighed, debated turning the sign over fully like the asshole he was, then decided against it since the person technically did come before the clinic was truly closed. He opened the door with a heavy heart. “Can I help you with-” He started, then stopped.

“Yes.” Fenris replied, arms wrapped around himself and his threadbare clothing, the very picture of a shivering wreck. “You can help me out of this cold.”

Anders was too stunned to do more than step back and let Fenris inside. Fenris made a beeline for one of the waiting chairs and collapsed onto it. It was only then that Anders noticed the goosebumps rippling on his skin, the shaking in Fenris’ body, the way his fingers trembled even as he tried to hide them underneath his armpits. Anders sighed again, pinching the space between his brows. “What made you think in here would be better than out there? Or anywhere else for that matter?”

“Hawke is...indisposed.” Fenris answered carefully. “And it’s too late for anyone else.”

“But apparently, not late enough for the hard-working doctor, who’s spent all day holed up in a clinic treating people as their last line of healthcare. What, the walk back home not good enough for you?”

At least Fenris had the decency to look ashamed. Well, as ashamed as a prickly elf could look. “I don’t trust home at the moment.”

Anders’ long face grew longer. For all of his bad blood with Fenris, even he saw the cruelty in shutting the door in a runaway’s face. “Fine.” He relented. “Stay for the night, but I expect you to be out first thing in the morning.”

Fenris nodded mutely and curled up on himself – almost like a cat. As soon as the comparison made its way into his head, it took root and refused to move from Anders’ mind, following him all the way to the supplies closet, where he grabbed the least threadbare blanket and pillow, and back to where Fenris was huddling. “Here.” Anders said, tossing the items at him. “At least crash here properly, for Maker’s sake.”

A person with less than perfect reflexes might have been slapped face-first with bedding, but Fenris only caught the items with a raised eyebrow. Anders had already turned away to finally prepare for sleep, he heard a quiet-

“Thank you.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. Fenris had already wrapped himself up in the blanket and curled into the pillow, stuffing his head under the cover until only the tips of his ears were peeking out. In that moment, he looked like any other elf refugee trying to stay warm in a none-too comfortable chair (and Anders can attest to that uncomfortable thing after an ill-advised nap during a quiet hour in the clinic). That image was a real, tangible proof of his care - even if it took form of a ball of blanket and silvery hair - and it reminded Anders why he treated people, or ran a clinic, or let in mage-hating runways.

He didn’t smile, but his steps going up the back staircase were much lighter than before.

His next time off was spent at the Hanged Man with Hawke and (proclaimed) merry band of misfits. It was certainly fitting considering the company currently present at their usual table – a set of twins, a police officer, the co-manager of the Hanged Man, a doctor (Anders), a runaway actor, an internet pirate, and a Dalish student.

And of course, Hawke himself, who was guffawing about something Varric said. Anders wouldn’t know since he was too busy losing at Wicked Grace badly.

“Well...at least all the cards are different this time. I really like how unique all of them are.” Merrill said as she peered over his hand.

“That’s not a good thing sweetness.” Isabela pointed out, laying out her completed set of suits, then appraised Anders with a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “You really do have the worst luck. Can’t be helped really.” On his right, Bethany patted his arm sympathetically as she laid down her own modest hand.

Anders frowned at Isabela. “As opposed to cheating?”

Isabela shrugged, not-so-coincidentally jostling a naughty card nesting in her cleavage (much to the poorly hidden delight of Carver). “It’s not cheating if you don’t get caught.”

Hawke chose that moment to tune into the conversation and gasped. “Isabela would never cheat!” He exclaimed indignantly. Knowing him, he was 100% serious. Varric and Isabela exchanged smiles, then Varric patted Hawke’s bicep.

“We believe you Hawke.”

“It’s not the matter of believing me, but believing in Isabela.” He turned to her. “I believe in you.”

Isabela’s face contorted in a strange mix between amused and touched, which ended up making her look extremely seasick. Fenris stifled a laugh behind his hand, turning his expression to the closest person next to him, and found himself looking at an equally humorous Anders. There was a moment when their eyes met, a moment when Fenris wasn’t feeling the usual hostility and it was just him and Anders sharing a common laugh.

Then Anders turned his head, breaking the connection. Fenris returned his gaze to the table as the conversation moved on. It seemed only minutes before Aveline said regretfully, “Well, I have the morning shift tomorrow, so I should get going.”

Isabela took one look at Merrill covering her yawn with a hand and stood. “I better get kitten home too. Don’t get into too much trouble boys. At least, not without me.”

With Hawke’s innocent, “We won’t Isabela!” sent her way, Isabela put an arm around Merrill’s shoulders, dropped money onto the table, and left with her. Following their example, Varric and Hawke put their heads together to figure out how to pay for their night in the bar (“Put it on my tab.” Was Varric’s usual reply, to Hawke trio’s indignation, which then started a one-versus-three of who would get to pay it back).

As Fenris reached into his own pocket to draw out the lone bills he had, Anders’ hand slapped in front of him, startling him. Anders withdrew his hand without another word and stalked out, leaving behind a few bills where his hand had been. It was more than enough to cover his own split bill.

“Anders-” Fenris started, but the mage was already gone. He frowned. Despite his feelings on Anders’ ideals, he recognises altruism when he sees it, in the man who chooses to sleep in his own clinic. It’s not cheap to run the service that Anders does, and for as long as Fenris has known him, he not the type to spend frivolously when he’s saving for the endless costs of the clinic.

And yet. Fenris would not deny that Anders was not the only one who had been counting pennies, so to speak. His had pride dictated that he would not accept any of the charity money offered by his friends, but there was clearly enough money for both his and Anders’ meals. How did the mage know that would he would be short for the evening?

No matter. Varric was already grudgingly accepting the Hawkes’ payment, as well as sweeping the bills off the table and into his hand. There was nothing else he could do about it, in terms of paying.

It still left an unsettling pit in his stomach.

It was only more ‘kindness’ since then, disguised as inconveniences for Anders and often riding along the coattails of excuses. ‘I needed to get rid of some of the older blankets, take this one. There’s no holes in it, at least.’ ‘A patient made a pie as a thankyou, but what do you know, I’m allergic to blueberries!’ ‘Someone kindly donated a hand-made beanie and scarf. Unfortunately, grey’s just not my colour.’

Not that Fenris hasn’t been trying to refuse them, with the keyword being ‘trying’. Being in the middle of an unusually harsh winter and dry season for jobs, it would make sense to accept the help. But just because it was logical didn’t mean that Fenris liked it very much. It felt too close to the small acts of mercy Danarius would give to him, akin to throwing a bone to a very beaten dog after a whole day of posing and remembering lines and pushing himself to exhaustion, which Fenris was ashamed to admit to have lapped up as a sign of favouritism. Delicious meals, fine clothes. He might as well have been a glorified pet with a lyrium collar back then.

When Anders dumped a pair of earmuffs on him – elongated for long tipped elven ears – Fenris finally confronted him. “Why all of this?”

Anders fixed him a confused look. “I’m very sure elven biology is enough similar to humans that they both feel the cold somewhat similarly. Unless your prickly sensibilities chose not to feel cold in the air?”

“I mean why all these...gifts.”

“...I needed someone to dump them off? Lirene only accepts cash donations and there’s only so many mismatched scarves and beanies I can own before I would have to give them away as well. Not to mention I’m trying to watch my weight, so food’s the least of my problems-”

Fenris knew stalling when he heard it. “Then cease it. I’m not a charity case, nor a project. If you feel nothing more than pity for me, then I would prefer how we were at the start.”

Hurt flashed across Anders’ face, for a moment, then it was wiped away with a frown. “This wasn’t- this isn’t a- I wasn’t doing it to try to, Maker forbid, change you Fenris. Are you a prickly bastard? Yes. Do I think that you should be a little more sympathetic to the plight of mages because they’re so similar to your own problems? Also yes. Do I still think of you as a friend? Well, I do, unless it’s not been mutual this entire time, which I guess makes me an idiot.”

Fenris knew stalling when he heard it. “Get on with it, Anders.”

“I was, I was. Look. If I was trying to change you – which I’m not! - I would put a lot more effort into shaping you into a specific person, don’t you think?”

Logic warred with suspicion. “And what if you are only bribing me?”

“That’s assuming there’s anything you can give me.”

That stung more than it should. Fenris shook his head. “Then there is no sense to keep giving me things when I have nothing to give back. I do not want to be indebted to you, and I am not yours to shape as you see fit.”

“For the last time, I’m not trying to lord this over you. But I’ll stop it if that’s what you, honest-to-Andraste, believe is the logical thing to do.”

Yes. Fenris was convinced it was.

So the gifts stopped, and with it, so did whatever little camadrie there had been. The next time they met as a group, Anders barely acknowledged him. But Fenris had meant what he said, so he forced himself to swallow the bitter taste of seeing Anders’ eyes pass over him with a neutral glance. At the one after that, Anders chose not to turn up at all, citing a busy clinic as his excuse. Fenris didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.

A few days of this apathy passed without fanfare, only for Hawke to pull Fenris and quietly asked if he had a fight with Anders.

“We had a discussion and cleared the air. Nothing else happened.” Fenris answered, if a bit testily.

Hawke levelled a stare at him. “Anders has been throwing himself into his work. He hasn’t been coming to the last three Wicked Grace nights, and he loves Wicked Grace. Either flu season was terrible, or you two are trying to avoid each other.”

“I am not avoiding him.”

“Yes you are. You two seemed to getting along so well with all the presents Anders was giving you.”

Fenris scowled, reminded of the reason why he was in a bad mood in the first place. Hawke continued, oblivious. “When I asked Anders, all he said was that he was giving you space. Did he do something Fenris? Should I be more worried? Were the presents themselves really that bad?”

...the meals may have been warm, but not the creations of a gourmet kitchen, and the clothes, clearly hand-me-downs despite their well-cared for appearance. “No.” Fenris said. “They were passable.”

“They must’ve sure been something if you didn’t want them anymore.”

They were hardly the rewards Danarius would shower him during the sponsorship, especially the ones Danarius gave when he was feeling more whimsical than demanding. But Danarius always had the ulterior motive of keeping Fenris docile and controlled. Anders just did it because he felt like it.

“Thank you, I suppose, for giving me something to think about it.”

Hawke clapped his shoulder, taking that as a sign that the problem was solved. “Not a problem. I’m always here if you need me.”

People to depend on. Those were rare. Maybe Fenris could do with one more.

This time, it was Fenris who was pacing in front of Anders clinic just before closing time. His earlier resolve had crumbled, and he tried in vain to gather its remains. He jumped when the front door opened, but it was only a lone dwarven couple ferrying a sleepy child out. He held the door open respectfully and stepped inside before the door swung shut.

As Fenris’ eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the surprise in Ander’s face from behind the receptionist desk. “Fenris?” Anders rose out of his chair, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Really? I was under the impression that you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I opposed your pity gifts. The company was…less than terrible, truth be told.”

Anders narrowed his eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you’re lying.”

Anders, as much as Fenris would hate to admit, had a point – here he was, after weeks of avoiding Anders like he had the Blight, and now, trying to make contact like he wasn’t the one who cut off Anders in the first place. The mage deserved honesty.

“I am not. I needed time to make sense of what I was feeling. I am not the best at words.”

Anders tipped his head at Fenris’ statement. At least he wasn’t making a smart remark. The fact that Fenris could predict a good Anders sentence and an irritated Anders sentence was an indicator that he probably knew Anders more than he had originally thought.

“What I said back then is still true. I do not like being in the debt of others. When I was. underneath Danarius’ contract, everything I received was something that could be used against me later. I cannot just shake this suspicion for it has saved me often. But one day, I would like to know what it would be like to walk freely, without distrust in every interaction. All I ask for is time and a chance to try existing outside that sponsorship.”

Anders stared at him for a long moment. Fenris willed himself to stare back, not defiantly, but in hope that his look would convey his sincerity. Finally, Anders spoke. “I will admit, it stung when you didn’t my goodwill. But that makes sense. I may be an advocate for mage rights, but even I can admit that bastard belongs in the Deep Roads, so it’s no wonder you don’t want anything to do with him.”

That’s all Fenris wanted and hoped for. He had nothing else to mention, so he nodded and turned to the door.”

“Wait.” Anders called out. “Do you somewhere to sleep tonight?”

Fenris faltered. He hadn’t been planning very far apart from hoping Hawke would answer his door. “I was thinking of asking Hawke, if he is awake at this time.”

“It’s very, very late so he’s probably not. Do you want to stay for the night? I promise, no doing this for bragging rights.”

Just as he reasoned on the first night, there could be worst places than an undocumented doctor’s clinic to sleep in. When Fenris nodded, Anders disappeared in the back, just as he did before, however, he returned with seemingly more items in his hand than the last time – another pillow, a fuzzier blanket, and something dangling off a lanyard on his wrist. Anders dumped them on the chair nearby chair, but held onto the lanyard.

“So I went through a few days of thinking in the span of a few minutes while I was getting these – I can think fast if I have to, don’t look at me like that – and I can’t blame you for thinking like you have to be suspicious of everything. Considering what you just told me, it would be like getting mad at pounce-a-lot for taking down the Wintersend tree.

“So this time, I’m going to give you something else: a choice. Happy Wintersend.”

He held out the lanyard, finally showing the small key hanging on the end. Fenris stared at it. “I don’t understand what this is Anders.”

“It’s one of the spare keys for the clinic – one of the only three in the world, I might add. The only people who have this is me and Lirene. So know that I’m not offering this lightly. This is a...job offer, I guess? I can’t pay you anything other than food, maybe a bit of the stipend if I beg Lirene enough to spare some of the weekly change. I’m sure I can convert one of the rooms upstairs to another bedroom if you want somewhere to board as well. There’s also a contract to read over, but we can do that together. Probably with someone else if you like. Hawke?”

It was good that Fenris was already sitting on the chair. It gave him a measure of support as the full implication hit him. This was Ander’s life, the home of his hopes and dreams, a sanctuary for those who had no-where else – or those without insurance. The previous gifts did not carry the weight of that disarmingly small key, but Fenris could feel its weight off the lanyard.

“I...would need some time. Maybe. I can’t promise anything now.” Fenris said, relishing the way maybe rolled off his tongue. The choice to say so. The feeling only flared when Anders nodded his head.

“I understand. Well, the waiting room is yours until morning.” Anders disappeared to staircase, his steps echoing in the stairwell, until they too faded away. The chairs were just as uncomfortable as they had been the first time Fenris had slept in them, but as Fenris buried himself deeper in them, his mind became cotton-heavy with the incoming sleep.

The last though Fenris had before he drifted off was the speculation of working in a place like the clinic. He had no skills has a medical professional, but there had to be just as honest work there. Fenris smiled to himself. He would let Anders know his answer in the morning.

[astriiformes]

Fibbonaci numbers for Erwyn?

Answered 1 (and I suppose, answered 1 again)

2 - Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life?

Ooh hm. Different people for different reasons, and really all of the party in different ways. Kriv and Voski are the two with healing abilities though, which have been pretty critical in saving his life, and Voski of course was the one who cast the resurrection spell to bring him back to life. They might be the biggest two just for those practical reasons.

3 - What are your character’s core moral beliefs?

Much of his life philosophy centers around kindness. He wants to help individuals and figure out broader ways to help the world – though one of his firm beliefs is that small actions and helping even one person are important and have a massive impact. 

While he wants to get to the root of the planar problem that’s plaguing Ashona, he’s very much a “sparks of hope in the face of the darkness” kind of guy. Maybe because so much of his own life has fallen down around his twitchy ears, but even in the middle of what we’re learning may be an apocalyptic event, he’s still largely focused on the stories and needs of individuals, and were he faced with watching the world end, he’d be dedicated to fighting and helping the people around him to the bitter end, even if it became clear the situation as a whole wasn’t something that could be fixed.

5 - Does your character have any biases for or against certain races?

Not really. As a high elf from a more isolated community he definitely grew up with some messages of semi-superiority, but more in a “we have powerful gifts” way than one that was all that disparaging of other fantasy races. And he’s lived outside of those influences and among really diverse communities for so long now that any of that has faded away entirely (though really, I don’t think Erwyn is someone that viewpoint ever really resonated much with anyway)

8 - What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most?

Funnily enough despite our circumstances, he’s pretty intrigued by the Faewilds. He basically grew up hearing fairytales mixed with real history about the place as a kid, because it’s such a critical location in elven history – it’s where the elves lived after the Seldarín realized they couldn’t remain in Arborea, with its overwhelming divine presence and environment, as mortals, all the way until they migrated to the Material Plane and experienced the high/wood/drow schism due to disagreements about how to survive in the new environment. 

Seeing the Faewilds, for him, is both a piece of history and I think a moving experience in a lot of ways – I imagine since the elves still have some fae ancestry in them that reflects significantly in both their biology and their language, there’s something about the magic of the environment and the resonance of the plane (a concept that our DM and I have talked about as a significant part of Erwyn’s horizon walker abilities and thus something he’s even more in tune with than the average elf) that feels inviting and nostalgic, even for the elves of the Fifth Age, like Erwyn.

13 - Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.?

Not really. He’s not exactly the marrying type and I think would struggle with the responsibility of raising kids for a number of reasons. He certainly might eventually become a little more sedentary than he’s been for the last few decades, particularly as he ages seeing as he still has potentially 600 years of life ahead of him, but that still probably wouldn’t be for hundreds of years unless a very particular opportunity presented itself. 

21 - Does your character have any noticeable scars? If so, what are their stories?

I mentioned a number of his scars in the appearance question earlier, but to specifically focus on them and give a little more detail. These are also just the prominent ones – he’s reasonably scarred up in smaller ways all over, just from living a dangerous and outdoor lifestyle for so long

His most significant scarring is a huge, knotted mess of heavily scarred skin that stretches from his right shoulder all the way down to about his shins on the same side. They stretch a good way across his torso and upper legs as well. The party has caught glimpses of them on occasion, mostly when Erwyn has been seriously injured and they’ve ended up exposed, but he hasn’t been willing to talk about their story

He has another scar that I’m not sure the party has seen, but it’s a strange little spot on his stomach area that looks almost as if it was corroded and weirdly healed. That one also has an undisclosed origin

There’s also, of course, the scar from when he died. Since he didn’t actually get directly hit by Rose’s dragon’s breath and it was instead channeled into him by fae magic, it doesn’t appear as ice damage across his skin – instead, it’s a spot over his heart that grew there as it stopped, that has the sheen of ice and appears as a sort of ragged snowflake pattern that branches out in cobwebbed lines that almost look like Lichtenberg figures across much of his torso

34 - What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left?

Oh BOY, well given the logic I used for these more physical space-oriented questions, that would be Voski which is a really complicated one to answer. 

He thinks that she’s an incredibly powerful magic user for sure, almost definitely overestimating her abilities but certain in the assertion. He also admires her practicality and has told her on multiple occasions that he really values her opinion in group discussion and decisions because he thinks they need someone with her opinions and ideas to be successful. Her ways with people absolutely dazzle him because he’s not the best at that sort of thing himself.

However. She baffles him. He looks at her and sees someone who, at great risk to herself, performed the ritual to bring him back to life, and who he is positive is a better person than she presents herself as, and yet sometimes she makes decisions that, at the very least, he just can’t understand. Erwyn has a very black-and-white vie of morality wherein he tends to assume someone who he knows is a Good Person must think similarly to him in that they would make as many kind and generous decisions as possible. So being in a group where – and Voski isn’t the only one who confuses him this way – there are people he’s seen be the epitome of his definition of Good but who are affiliated with crime, or make seemingly selfish decisions, or other things he wouldn’t expect a Good Person to do, is really challenging some of his views on morality.

That said, on the whole the positives really do outweigh the “negatives” in his mind. Erwyn’s opinion of Voski is not only positive but genuinely admiring, and he’s frequently a little awed by her and her abilities. Which is interesting, given their wildly differing personalities, but do I have some suspicions that the two of them have a little more in common than appears on the surface.

Answered 55 and 89!

[delicrieux]

study buddies 📚

PAIRING: peter parker x reader summary: peter offers (name) to study together before asking them out requested by anon : Peter Parker helping his crush through exam stress? XD (kind of comical if you can??) 

MASTERLIST.

There is an unwritten rule somewhere in the book of life which states that if one person is smitten with the other, the other must unavoidably be smitten as well.

Spring time is always full of pleasantries if one was to exclude allergies from this equation. The day was, to your silent protest against routine, just like any other: sunny weather, happy friends, boring classes, dull conversations, and a looming fear of upcoming exams. There was not a thing missing from this idyllic picture – and by picture I mean you, alone, carrying your stack of borrowed books, fully intending to go home and pray to whatever higher power that was listening to help you transfer the information from the many colourful academic writings to your small, easily distracted, brain – so surprised is a weak term for what you were feeling when Peter Parker called after you.

There he is, jogging down the hallway a bit too fast for it to be normal, with a sort of jump in his step that seems to boost his overall speed. Yet he doesn’t even break a sweat – highly unfair in your opinion – as he reaches you with a soft smile, eyes eager and bright, as if his afternoon has gotten better now that you’re in sight. Perhaps you are just projecting. After all, now that he is here, yours certainly has.

“Were you planning to study?” He jumps to the topic at hand. Highly uncharacteristic of him. His voice is chipper, yet quick, unlike his usual drawn out sputter. He eyes your books for confirmation, then examining the features of your face waiting for a, hopefully, positive answer. All you do is nod. It is enough of a confirmation for him, “Awesome. I mean—“ Ah, there is the Peter you know! “-Not awesome that you have to study…Unless you like to study, in which case… cool. Very cool. I personally don’t mind it either way—“

“Uhm, Peter?” There is a smidge of irritation in your tone. It is not of you being annoyed with him, it is more to do with the heavy tombs that refused to fit in your bag. Your fingers had dug themselves into the covers and started to hurt. You simply want to get to your car as quick as you possibly can and spend the rest of the way chatting, “I’m sort of…” Alas, words fail on you. This always happens when you are near him. Anywhere that is not near him is perfectly okay. However, when he is facing you, clearly catching onto your every word, you cannot fathom a single normal excuse. Or even a proper explanation. “On my way home, so…”

“Oh!” He smiles, “Oh, okay. I’ll accompany you.”

That worked out better than you had expected.

The two of you fell into step. Pleasant silence, until, “Uh…do you need some help?”

“If you don’t mind…” You mumble, offering him the biology book. He takes it with such ease and grace you, again, envy his almost inhuman strength. You had not seen a person alive holding the biology textbook without showing signs of excruciating pain.

“I was…” He starts, turning to look forward and avoid your gaze, “I was actually wondering if…that…maybe you wanted to study together? I mean, I read that forming a study group is one of the best ways to learn stuff…and things.”

“And where did you read that?” You tease him. Your answer was decided on already, but you can never miss an opportunity to tease him.

“Buzzfeed.”

“They have articles?” You inquire with a sceptical, raised brow, “I figured they only make ‘What type of bread are you’ quizzes. Well, at least that’s the only reason I visit their website, anyway.”

“So what type of bread are you?”

“Garlic, you?”

“No way! Me too!”

“I guess that’ll make us great study partners, then.” You smile at him, “See you at my place at six?”

“I will be seen there, then- I mean, yeah. Yeah, I…Yeah.” He grins at you, “Just let me lead you to your car and I’ll get out of your hair.”

No, stay in my hair, you think.

That sounded really weird, you add.

***

Though, concentrating is unsurprisingly difficult. It is well past six, your parents are home and made it deliberately clear to keep the door open in case of ‘Teenage shenanigans’. That properly embarrassed you, but you took it with stride. So far all you have revised is a bit of literature, the tough subjects that demand logic and quick thinking will prove to be the trickiest to digest. You can’t blame Peter – he is a wonderful study buddy and he tries his hardest to clear each and every subject you can’t wrap your head around – it is you that is the problem. You just can’t think of anything else when he is here, in your room. You also wonder did you hide your old diary – it holds quite a few (N) + P passages. You would die if he happened to stumble upon it.

“..Alright! Easy, right?” Peter says, full of energy.

“Sure.” You mumble.

“What next?”

“Hm…” You think, “I am having a bit trouble with French…”

“Ah…” He nods, “The language of baguette wielding fiends.”

“I was…I was imagining it more of…the language of romance.”

“What isn’t romantic about baguette wielding fiends?”

“Fair point.”

The evening continues with some pretentious accents and soft giggles, until…

“Hey, so—“ Peter starts, looking up from his batch of work. An open book and a few papers sit on his lap, and his eyes promptly return to them once your divine attention is on him, “So this is…fun.”

Well it certainly was until he made it awkward, though you would never voice this aloud. With a gulp you nod. The temperature in your room rises just a bit and you feel hot in your sweater. Pretending to go back to work, because you are completely not anticipating what he is about to say, you lean onto your pillows and fake-scribble something in your notes with a pencil.

He glances at you warily, awaiting confirmation. Awkwardly, you mumble “…Yeah.”

“We should do it again.”

You look up from your notes, “You mean…study? Well, yeah, totally, I mean half of this could be elf-language to me since without your help I--“

“No.” He cuts you off, flustered, “No, (Name), that’s…that’s not what I mean…” He trails off, “And elf-languages is visibly different from English…” He adds quietly, almost sadly.

“Then what-?”

You don’t get to finish your question as it suddenly dawns onto you. You take him in, in all of his awkward shy glory, and your heart makes a strange, unruly jump, that rings familiar to cardiac arrest (you read so on webmd).

“Peter Parker—“ You address him, your voice breathless as you abruptly sit up, “Are you…are you asking me out?”

“What?! No!” Peter denies quickly, “I mean…” That initial resolve is suddenly gone, “Unless…You want to…go. Out. With me. Then I am.” He gives you a sweet smile and you can’t help but melt a little. A giggle tickles the back of your throat but you surpass it. Pleased, you hum/

“I…I wouldn’t mind.” You admit.

No, I wouldn’t mind at all.

***

[sugarssaur]

 @turnourterrorintogold sent me this ask game by @gilgamemesh so here we go~

1. Your first OC ever?

I can’t remember lol.

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?

Hmm I like drawing my big alien cat gorl Kida. Her design is fun and it’s probably the most “solid” character I have so far (alongside Orion).

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?

Yeah, I kinda adopted Zokii, an albino galra oc from my dear friend Mij who sent me this ask game. 

4. A character you rarely talk about?

I have many ocs but I don’t talk much about any of them. I’ve been talking a lot about my galra oc’s with my friend Mij though.

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

I don’t know, I would be really happy if any of my ocs got popular.

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?

I don’t think I have any yet.

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

Like, in fanfic? Because I have the Sheith children that will be part of a fanfic Mij is writing.

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!

No, I don’t.

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?

I’m working on a oc for Mij so yeah.

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

I don’t think any of my ocs have really complicated designs lol (at least the ones I have given more tought on).

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

Kida.

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lot

Bud, Leo and Thatch are the ones I can think on the top my head now (and Zokii who is Mij’s oc ofc).

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs?

Yeah, I have some villains too but I’m still working on them.

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

Leona, a fan apprentice from The Arcana. She had an abusive father, and ran away from her clan after being scratched in the face by an albino jaguar that later becomes her familiar.

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?

Yes!

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

Orion? Or maybe another Voltron oc I have (from the next generations of paladins)? I don’t know, didn’t think about it.

17. Any OC OTPs?

Not yet.

18. Any OC crackships?

Welp I saw a post in the rayllum tag once saying “what if Rayla broke up with someone before going to the Katolis?” and I tought it was cool, so I created a moonshadow elf oc called Luana, Rayla’s ex girlfriend lol.

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

I don’t know man I like all of them. I could introduce Kida or Orion, ‘cause they’re pretty solid ocs but I already talked a lot about them.

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

I don’t think any of them can sing... Maybe Luana? 

21. Your most artistic OC

Orion! He’s one of my Sheith kids oc. Unlike the rest of his family, despite of him being a good fighter and a good strategist, he has no desire in following a militar career because he’s an artist! And he likes taking pictures of all the amazing things he gets to see when he travels to planets of the coalition with his family. He’s like an honorary member in missions because he, alongside a small team, records everything that’s going on aboard. He’s always ready to help when things get tought though. 

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?

Few people know about my ocs, so no.

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Welp, Kida was supposed to be more serious and way less cute and cat-like. 

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

Any of my pet ocs (pokémon, dragons, familiars, etc.)

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)

Most of my sonas and one or other oc from The Arcana.

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will?

Nope.

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song?

I have three or more that that I’m basing off of two Lord Huron’s songs: Yawning Grave and Frozen Pines.

28. Your most dangerous OC?

My vilains I guess.

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they’re going?

Any of my mcs from Mystic Messenger. I mean, the mc already kinda did that didn’t she? Lmao.

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection?

Many of them because they’re nerds and I like stuffed animals so I can’t help it.

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)

Kida would have a pastel blog, and she would probably mostly reblog and post cute aesthetic pictures and gifs.

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why?

My Mystic messenger mcs because they’re dumb enough to follow the instructions of a complete stranger and break in someone’s apartment lol.

33. Your shyest OC?

Probably Leona.

34. Do you have any twin characters?

I have Allurance kids as well, they’re twins- a boy and a girl. 

35. Any sibling characters?

The Allurance and Sheith kids (Orion, Kida and Zokii are adopted sibblings, they’ll probably get a human sister too in the future).

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)?

Zokii, they’re Kida and Orion’s older brother.

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human

I’m just gonna link this.

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer?

Probably Frida, my the arcana fan apprentice from Julian’s route.

39. Introduce any character you want

I have this furry alien boy which is the same alien species as Olia (Voltron). He’s one of Pidge’s favorite students and one of the next generation of paladins, but I couldn’t decide if he’s the blue or red paladin yet.

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!

Well, it was cool talking about the sheith kids with Mij on discord.

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)

My friend and I made an art exchange and I posted it here a few years ago.

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods?

Orion, Leona, the allurance daughter, one of” the next generation paladins” oc and Zago (the arcana fan apprentice from Asra’s route).

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confess

Don’t know...? 

44. Something you like about your OCs in general

Well, I try to make my characters diverse and unique.

45. A character you no longer use?

Some ocs from dumb stories I wrote when I was younger.

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?

No.

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child?

Probably not?

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure.

Orion. He’s not very talkative but he’s a really nice dude, trust me.

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes

Most of them probably.

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want.

I have a night fury plushie that I want to turn into an oc, but I couldn’t decide the name or if it’s a male or female.

Maybe it’s a female and I’ll give her a light fury girlfriend, who knows?

[theartofbeinganerd]

 These Stars Will Guide Us Home - Chapter Nine

Yes, yes, I know, it’s late. I’m sorry, but here it finally is!

(Ao3)

-

“My goodness, this is adorable!” Jemma cooed as she lifted an ornament out of the cardboard box that she’d been sifting through. She held it up to show the others, giving it a little shake. “How old are you here, Mack? Five, six?”

Mack groaned, shaking his head as he snatched the ornament with a picture of him at a very young age dressed up like an elf pasted onto it. “I was five.” Turning to a smirking Elena, he arched an eyebrow and asked pointedly, “What is this doing here? I told you we were leaving this at my parents’ place.”

“It was too precious not to put on our tree,” Elena insisted, taking the ornament from Mack and carefully placing it on one of the branches of the Christmas tree in their living room that Jemma and Daisy were helping to decorate. “Besides, your mother gave it to me.”

In response, Mack simply gave another groan, and a grinning Daisy asked, “Do you still have that costume?”

Fortunately, Mack was saved from having to respond to Daisy’s tease when a knock issued on the front door, followed shortly by it opening to reveal Bobbi and Hunter. “Sorry we’re late,” she told them. Thumbing at Hunter beside her, she explained, “The Grinch here took forever to get ready.”

“It’s the first day of December; you’ve got a whole month to decorate,” Hunter griped as he plopped onto the couch beside Jemma.

“Oh come on, Hunter,” Daisy said, stepping over to drape tinsel around his neck, “get in the Christmas spirit!”

Teasingly, Jemma pointed out, “Given last year’s Christmas party, I believe it takes a couple glasses of eggnog for Hunter to find his Christmas spirit.”

“You’re right about that,” Bobbi agreed with a laugh, “his rendition of White Christmas was very spirited."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Hunter asked her, “You don’t still have that video, do you?” When she simply laughed in response, he cried, “Bobbi! You swore to me that you deleted it! Bobbi!”

Chuckling at her friends’ antics, Jemma turned to Mack and Elena, asking curiously, “Where are you guys celebrating this year?”

“We’re spending a couple of days with my family, then a couple with Yo-Yo’s,” Mack answered as he attempted to untangle a string of lights. Glancing toward his girlfriend, he added jokingly, “Though, I’m not sure if I should keep bringing her around my mom if they’re gonna keep conspiring against me like this.”

As she was walking past him to grab a few more ornaments to hang, Elena popped up on her toes and kissed his cheek, replying confidently, “You love that she loves me.”

Mack grinned, giving in easily and telling her, “Yeah, I do.”

Though seeing her friends happy made Jemma happy, she had to glance down at her lap then to try and hide the sudden wave of sadness that swept over her in response to their casual affection. Though it hardly seemed possible, as the holidays began to grow closer and closer, she found herself missing Fitz even more than usual. For some time, she’d thought that they’d get to spend Christmas together, to celebrate the holiday for the first time as a couple (and simply together for the first time in years) and as a family – in the same place. But, now, he was still in space, and though she had her friends there, it just wasn’t the same.

And, given that she was going to be over eight months pregnant by the time the holiday rolled around, she wouldn’t even be able to fly to England to spend it with her family, and she knew that Mack and Elena, and Bobbi and Hunter were going to be leaving to visit their families.

However, Daisy was going to be staying put as well, and had promised Jemma that they’d celebrate Christmas together, which she greatly appreciated. After all, it was going to be hard enough to get through the day without Fitz, let alone if she’d had to spend the entire day alone.

“Hey!” Daisy cried suddenly, beaming as she pulled something out of one of the boxes of decorations. She placed a Santa hat on top of her head, and planted her hands on her hips, nodding decisively. “Okay, now it’s December.” Taking out her phone, she snapped a photo of herself in the hat, then turned to Jemma and said, “Oh my gosh, can you imagine all the cute little Christmas outfits you can put the baby in next year? I fully expect to get a Christmas card from you next December that has me melting into a puddle.”

“Maybe you should dress her up as an elf,” Elena put in, smirking when Mack shot her a dry look for the comment.

“And you and Fitz can be Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” Daisy added. “That would be so cute!”

Laughing, Jemma told her, “I know that you don’t know Fitz very well yet, but I promise you that he would never go for that. Dressing the baby up? Sure. Dressing up himself? Not in a million years.”

“Oh, we’ll convince him,” she insisted, “Fitz hasn’t really met me yet; I can be very persuasive.”

“We know,” Bobbi reminded her, chuckling fondly.

“Who’s bloody phone is that?” Hunter said suddenly, and a frowning Mack turned down the volume on the Christmas music that had been playing in the background. Sure enough, a phone could be heard ringing from their kitchen.

“Oh!” Jemma cried, struggling to get to her feet. “That’s me.” Standing the closest to her, Daisy and Bobbi each gave her a hand standing, and she hurried into the kitchen to grab her phone just before it could go to voicemail. “Hello?” she answered, slightly out of breath.

“Hello, is this Jemma Simmons?” a woman asked.

“This is she,” Jemma replied, leaning back against the island in Mack and Elena’s kitchen.

“Oh, hello dear! This is Valerie Newton, calling about the rental property that you filled out an application for.”

Jemma’s heart leapt in her chest, but she tried to tamp down on her hope, replying, “Oh yes, hello Valerie. Thank you for getting back to me so soon.”

“Of course, of course. I just wanted to let you know as soon as possible that you and your fiancé were approved, and that you can come on over and sign the lease whenever you’re available.”

For a moment, she was speechless, even though all of her friends had insisted for days now that she and Fitz were practically guaranteed the house. It simply seemed to be too good to be true when everything else appeared to have been going so horribly lately. Finally, she asked in disbelief, “We…we got it?”

On the other line, Valerie laughed, assuring her, “Yes, you got it. Truly, I couldn’t imagine the house going to a more impressive and more importantly, a more deserving couple.”

“Oh thank you, thank you,” Jemma told her, letting out a disbelieving little laugh and shaking her head. “I…I can come sign the lease Monday around noon, if that works for you?”

“Sure thing, dear. I’ll see you then, and I hope you have a good weekend.”

“Thank you, you too,” she replied before hanging up the phone. For a moment, she simply stood there, still slightly taken aback.

But, then Daisy called over the back of the couch, “Everything alright out there?” and she snapped out of it, beaming and hurrying back to join the others.

“We got the house!” she cried, clasping her hands together under her chin.

As her friends all began congratulating her, all Jemma could think was that she couldn’t wait to tell Fitz, and that she couldn’t wait to start building a home with him – and, today, they’d taken the first step to finally making that happen.

-

“Ugh, what do you have in here, Jem? Bricks?”

Rolling her eyes at Daisy’s theatrics, Jemma tapped her neat handwriting on the top of the cardboard box that she was carrying, pointing out, “They’re my biology texts, Daisy, and they can go in the living room for now.”

“Good.” With that, Daisy unceremoniously dropped the box onto the floor in front of her, ignoring the less than pleased look that Jemma shot her. Then, she turned to head back outside to bring in another box, stepping back out of the way as Mack and Hunter entered the house carrying her mattress.

It had only been a week since Jemma had found out that they’d gotten the house, and then later signed the lease, but her friends had all rallied together to help her get moved in as soon as possible. And, she was completely grateful for all of the help – especially since she couldn’t exactly do much of the moving herself at the moment.

Though it felt rather…lonely moving into the house by herself, Jemma was trying to push that to the side and instead focus on getting it all ready for when Fitz came home, determined to truly give him a home to come back to.

“Alright,” Bobbi called as she entered the house, carrying a box in her arms, “it’s marked clothes, but is that clothes for you, or the baby?”

“Probably mine, but let me just check,” Jemma replied, stepping over to crack open the flaps and peer into the box. “Yes, they’re mine; our bedroom is to the right.”

“Gotcha,” she answered, turning to go through the door on the left that led to the master bedroom, returning a moment later to go back for another box.

Sidelined as she was, Jemma had been sifting through the boxes that had already brought in, so she went back to that, grabbing another few of her books and arranging them on the bookshelf that had already been set up in the living room. She’d been putting them in order by subject, and subcategorizing by author in alphabetical order, but she had fully committed to it yet, given that she didn’t have any of Fitz’s books there yet.

“My goodness, this place is adorable.”

Surprised, Jemma glanced up to find Nora Fitz coming through the front door and looking around the house as though she’d been summoned by Jemma’s thoughts, a cardboard box in her hands with a container of what appeared to be Christmas cookies balanced on top of it. “Oh, Nora! You’re early!” Hurrying over, she attempted to take the box from her, but a narrowed-eyed Nora refused to hand it over.

“I may be old, sweetheart, but I’m not that old that I need a heavily pregnant woman carrying boxes for me,” Nora told her pointedly. “Besides, it is just some of Leo’s clothes, not those big heavy textbooks of his – I’ll have one of your friends get that box.” She carried the box into the kitchen, placing it on the counter, then complimented once more, “This house is simply perfect, Jemma. I can’t believe you found such a nice one for your first house; my first place was an absolute disaster.”

Laughing, Jemma replied, “Well, thank you. It was actually my friends Mack and Elena that found it, though – they live just down the street.”

“They did good, then.” Nora was quite a moment, studying her carefully, then she asked in a low, concerned voice, “How are you doing, hon?”

“I’m…” Jemma gave a small sigh, then shrugged, murmuring, “I’m hanging in there, just as I’m sure that you are.”

Nora nodded in understanding, wrapping a comforting arm around Jemma’s shoulders and giving her a little squeeze. “He’ll be back before we both know it, sweetheart. And, then he’ll get to come home to you and this beautiful new house, and just in time to see this precious little baby come into the world.” With that, she placed her free hand over Jemma’s bulging belly, smiling warmly.

“Yes, that’s what I do my best to try and remember,” Jemma agreed, always eternally grateful that she had Nora around to not only understand what she was going through, but also to lift her back up when it all seemed to be too much. Truthfully, she didn’t know how she could’ve gotten through all of this time without Fitz if she hadn’t had his mother.

“Nora!”

They both glanced up at Daisy’s excited greeting as she reentered the house with another box in hand, and a chuckling Nora replied, “Ah, good to see you again, dear. Have you been taking good care of Jemma and my granddaughter?”

“Trying to,” Daisy answered with a teasing grin, “Jemma can be pretty determined when it comes to being independent.”

Jemma let out an insulted huff at that, no matter how true it was, but both Daisy and Nora simply laughed at it, Nora nodding in clear agreement with Daisy’s statement.

“So, are you girls spending Christmas with your friends, then?” Nora asked them curiously, adding to Jemma, “I know your mum said that you couldn’t fly home this year.”

“Actually, it’s just us,” Daisy answered with a shrug as she set her box down as well, making an immediate beeline for the cookies. She pried the lid off of the container, grabbing one that appeared to be shaped like a snowflake and taking a bite. Around a mouthful of it, she explained, “All of our friends are going off to spend it with family, but Jem and are still gonna have a great time.”

“What about you, Nora?” Jemma asked. “What with Fitz not being home, do you have any other big plans?”

“I imagine I’ll just stay in, sit by the fire and work on this year’s jumper for Fitz,” Nora answered. In a mock-whisper, she told them, “Don’t tell him I told you this, but it’s going to be out of this world.”

In response, Jemma bit her lip to hold back a laugh as she imagined Fitz’s face when he eventually opened what she was now sure had to be a rocket ship jumper. She really needed to make sure to take pictures.

“Hey,” Daisy said suddenly, “why don’t you come hang out with us? We can drink eggnog and eat some more of these amazing cookies, and Jemma can probably send a bunch of pictures of all of us to Fitz and tell him that his mom’s more fun to hang out with than him or something.”

“Oh yes,” Jemma agreed instantly, “I can’t believe that I didn’t think of that myself; we’d love to have you, Nora.”

“Well, then I’d love to join you girls, thank you both,” Nora replied, offering them both a warm smile and giving Jemma’s shoulders another little squeeze. To Daisy, she then asked, “Now, dear, could you give me a hand with something?”

“Sure thing,” Daisy agreed easily, following Nora through the house and out the front door.

While they were gone, Jemma curiously cracked open the box of Fitz’s clothes that Nora had left on the counter, and had to take a moment to collect herself when she was bombarded with the smell of Fitz. It’d been nearly eight months that she’d been apart from him, and though they spoke all the time, it simply wasn’t the same as having him physically there; she hadn’t realized until just then that she’d missed his scent so much, and it brought tears to her eyes.

“Hey, Jemma, check this out!”

Blinking back the tears and rearranging the flaps so that the box was closed once more, Jemma took a steadying breath before turning back around. She found Daisy and Nora carrying a folded up crib into the house, the old wood polished to look practically like new.

“It’s Leo’s old crib,” Nora explained, “he told me that he didn’t think you had one yet, and I just had this lying around the house, so I figured I’d bring it up for you.”

“Oh Nora,” Jemma murmured, the tears coming back in an instant as she moved closer to more closely inspect the crib, which she now knew had once belonged to her best friend and the love of her life when he was just a baby. There were a few little nicks here and there in the wood, and there were a couple of old, fading stickers of cartoon puppies stuck to the posts.

It was one of the most wonderful things that Jemma had ever laid eyes on, and meant far more than any crib that she could’ve gone out and picked up herself.

“It’s perfect,” Jemma told her, swiping any a tear that had managed to slip past her defenses and roll down her cheek. “Thank you so much. Oh, I just love it.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” Nora told her warmly, briefly setting her side of the crib down to catch Jemma’s hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” Jemma repeated, unable to say anything else and truly touched by the gesture, and by how Nora just always seemed to know exactly what she needed – it was definitely a trait that she shared with her son.

“Don’t mention it, Jemma, truly, I was happy to do it,” Nora assured her, giving her hand another squeeze before picking her side of the crib back up. “Now, how about we go see how this looks in there?”

Jemma nodded, agreeing, “Alright, though I’m already sure that I’m going to love it.”

“Let’s get this to the nursery, then,” Daisy said, nodding to the hallway on their left, which led to the second bedroom that they were going to be using as the baby’s nursery. Jemma followed them there, and between the three of them, they managed to get it unfolded and all set up in no time.

“How does it look, dear?” Nora asked Jemma as they stepped back to admire the crib.

Even though the only other thing in the room at the moment was a few scattered boxes of baby things that she’d collected already, the sight of the crib set up off to the side of the room, exactly where she’d imagined it when she’d first seen the house, had emotion welling up inside of Jemma.

Though everything about her pregnancy and having a baby with Fitz was very real, suddenly it all just seemed to hit her at once. This was the crib where her child, their child, was going to be sleeping in a matter of months, this was the room where their daughter would begin her life, where they would change her and dress her and rock her to sleep.

It made everything about her pregnancy somehow, startlingly, even more real.

“It’s…it’s perfect,” Jemma murmured, unable to think of a better word to describe the sight of the crib in their daughter’s nursery, to describe the feeling that it had inspired in her.

“I think so too,” Nora assured her warmly, “and I’m sure that Leo will as well.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she replied softly, already picturing Fitz’s reaction to what would soon be the finished nursery, quite sure that he’d feel exactly the same way about it that she did.

After all, he was the only other person in the world (or, well, in and outside the world, as it was just then) that could understand the deep, all-consuming love and adoration that she held within her for their daughter.

-

The sky had just begun to darken when everything had finally been brought into the house and placed in its proper rooms, and it wasn’t much longer after that that everyone else headed back home – though Mack and Elena were quick to assure Jemma that they were there if she needed anything.

Once she was alone in the house, however, Jemma was hit with just how alone she really felt after being surrounded by her friends all day long, and after rooming with Daisy for years now.

The familiar loneliness of the last few months swept over her then as it often did, which she would usually combat with giving Fitz a call or asking him if he was available for a video call, as seeing his face or hearing his voice did wonders to chase away the ache in her heart caused by his absence, if only temporarily.

However, knowing that Fitz was working and wouldn’t be able to talk that night, Jemma instead opened an email and typed out a brief message to him for now, intending to write a longer and more detailed one about her day for him before she went to bed.

Everything’s moved into the house – now to find places for all of it. I think I know what I’m going to be doing for the next few weeks; it’s a good thing I’m on maternity leave and have plenty of free time.

She sent the email, then set her phone down, taking a leisurely little walk throughout the house to try and get a better idea of how she wanted to arrange things, and also trying to take her mind off of how big and empty the house seemed all of a sudden. When she reached their bedroom, however, she caught sight of a pile of boxes in the corner, Fitz’s familiar scribbled handwriting on the side reading ‘clothes’.

Thinking about the one that she had briefly opened earlier, about how the clothing had carried his scent, thinking about how the last person to touch those clothes, to wear them, had been Fitz, Jemma walked over to them. She opened one, which she found was filled with sloppily folded jumpers and t-shirts.

Smiling softly, she picked up one of the jumpers, thumbing at the soft, warm material. Then, she lifted it to her nose, closing her eyes and taking a whiff of his unique blend of solder, some sort of cologne or aftershave that he must’ve started wearing after they’d fallen out of touch, and what was simply and familiarly Fitz.

After a moment, she set the jumper down on the bed, stripping out of the shirt that she’d been wearing and instead replacing it with his jumper. It was a bit of a stretch around her rounded stomach (Fitz wasn’t exactly the biggest of men, after all), but it was still perfect.

It was somehow far comfier and cozier than anything she’d ever owned, and Jemma simply felt…content, comforted in the jumper, tucking her fingers in the sleeves and letting her eyes slip closed as she was surrounded by warmth and the smell of Fitz.

In a way, it almost felt like having him there with her, like being wrapped up in his embrace, and she folded her arms around herself.

Yes, Jemma was well aware that it wasn’t him, and that she was still alone, but it was more than she’d had yesterday, and it was closer to him than she’d been in months.

For now, for the remaining month and a half that she was going to have to spend without him, it was enough.