#which like. i suppose its because its taking from so many fields and not just creative writing shit

[bthump]

I see a lot of people acting like Guts was so good to Casca when he admitted he just wanted a side chick. Reading the manga it felt that she was unimportant to him, someone to fuck and throw to the side. Even when he was trying to be there for her it felt so...forced. Like he didn't want to be there at all, why do you think that is?

I think it's a combination of Miura deliberately writing it as a flawed attempt at a relationship in terrible circumstances between two fucked up people that was always kind of a mistake, and like, probably some bad writing as well lol.

Like I think it's supposed to at least come across as sweet and earnest and hopeful at the time. A genuine connection between Guts and Casca. Miura has said in an interview that he wrote their relationship to add more drama to the Eclipse, so presumably the audience is meant to root for them to an extent, so that the Eclipse rape can make the reader even more angry lol.

But I don't think it was ever intended to be true love or even necessarily a good idea on the parts of the characters. When Guts invites Casca along he directly says she might get in the way of what he wants to do (fight strong opponents) so his invitation is conditional. This actually foreshadows Guts abandoning her in a cave to go and fight monsters, because she does get in his way.

Casca also cries when Guts fights Wyald and afterwards tells him to die on his own if he's so insistant about it, so even if she hadn't gone insane she probably would've gotten in the way of his dream to throw himself into danger over and over anyway lol.

On the rescue mission they start getting jealous as they get closer to Griffith. They essentially break up right before the Eclipse starts, Casca telling Guts to leave to pursue his dream while she stays with Griffith.

Judeau puts a lot of energy into trying to get them to hook up and leave together, and it's strongly implied that it's because he doesn't feel like he deserves Casca himself and he wants what he thinks is best for her. But when he dies he regrets never telling Casca about his feelings, and Casca even has a little romantic moment with him after he saves her life, which echoes the way she falls for Griffith and then Guts when they save her life.

And it's kind of jarring when she's already hooked up with the protagonist of the story, and certainly suggests that her relationship with Guts is not exactly all-consuming for them. It's realistically unromantic.

Post-Eclipse, Casca is framed as Guts' responsibility that pulls him away from the more visceral temptation to go after Griffith. And this causes him to nearly kill Casca, and then nearly rape her.

When Casca gets her mind back but can't look at him, Guts swings his sword in frustration and restlessness and thinks about Griffith's intense gaze from across a field. After she gets kidnapped, Guts only seems to care that his sword couldn't hit Griffith.

I could go on lol, but basically there are so many deliberate details that point to Guts and Casca's relationship being intended not as super romantic, but rather a more realistic hookup that isn't necessarily a net positive for either of them. And I do think that's what Miura intended, to a greater or lesser degree. I'm sure it was meant to be somewhat genuine and sweet, but I think they're ultimately shown to be incompatible and like, a trainwreck overall.

And yeah, a lot of Guts' shitty treatment of Casca is definitely deliberate, since after the Eclipse he does abandon her, and later attacks and assaults her, and she's currently traumatized by not just Femto and monsters, but also him.

I've actually written a ton of posts about their relationship and its flaws, so I'll link some in case you're interested in more detailed takes:

This is probably one of the best posts I've written about them imo, about how Judeau and Guts' relationships to Casca are compared and contrasted to highlight some of Guts' flaws.

Guts and Casca's hook up being paralleled to Griffith and Charlotte's hook up in terms of both men trying to repress their feelings about the other.

How Judeau's manipulations reflect on Guts and Casca's relationship.

Visual parallels during the Guts + Casca sex scene that suggest they're both rebounding from Griffith.

My take on Guts wanting to earn Casca's affection in ch 33.

Guts and Casca's relationship as a mistake that contributes to the Eclipse happening.

Guts and Casca's hook up failing to have an impact.

A long list of moments that contradict Guts and Casca's relationship as particularly romantic.

Thanks for the ask!

[james-silenthill]

The AI art thing is a complicated and multifaceted thing and I am not fully on either side. #libra

[cressidagrey]

Don't wait for the Sky to Clear - Thesan x PeregrynCaptain!Lover x FourthArcheron!Sister

Summary:

The Fourth Archeron sister makes herself a life in the Dawn Court. 

Warnings:

DEFINETLY NSFW. SERIOUSLY. THIS HAS NO PLOT.

Notes:

I...I have no idea where this came from. It popped into my head fully formed a few weeks ago...and this is the result. There is probbaly never going to be a second story in this universe, but it's...interesting, so you'll get it.

(thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the super pretty dividers!)

“They are nearly as beautiful as you.”

Carys’ lips quirked up in a smile at these words. 

Said in that lazy drawl that she had become so used to over the last few months…her husband. 

Well, one of them at least. 

She let go of the flower petals she had fondled gently, beautiful, colourful tulips, dotted everywhere around the Dawn Court. 

“Flatterer,” Carys said lightly but took his hand as he held it out for her. 

She gained her feet and turned towards him, towards brilliant brown eyes, towards these beautiful white feathered wings that stretched vastly behind his back. Ardin quirked his lips at her.

“Just telling the truth,” Ardin quipped. “Finished with your flowers for the day?” He asked her and she hummed in agreement…pulling deep inside her for that kernel of power she had. 

The flower grew underneath her hands a few inches more. She smiled to herself. 

She didn’t have the power of death…or of the future. This was all the cauldron had decided to give her. She was quite sure that it had been its revenge for Nesta taking more than she should have. 

Carys should probably consider herself lucky that she hadn’t ended up with horns or something like that. 

Letting flowers grow…It was a nice party trick, she supposed. 

It was more useful on the potato fields further away from the Palace than it ever could be in little fields of tulips right here…but she would gladly take it nonetheless.

Granted, it had taken her months to master even that, but it was…it was something. It was all she could do and that suited her just fine.  

“Yes,” Carys agreed and Ardin leaned down to pick up her basket, in which she had kept the flower she had cut for the day, snatching it up and then offering her his arm…as graceful as any human courtier she had ever met had been. 

Sometimes…sometimes she missed it. Being human. 

Carys never voiced that aloud, because she knew that…there weren’t many people that would understand. And the ones that did understand… her sisters…well, that relationship was fraught with tension on a good day. 

Carys couldn’t even fault them. Especially not Feyre…Carys had managed to kick loose a diplomatic incident when she had left the Night Court. 

But she hadn’t been able to stay any longer. Not after…She had been half hysterical with fear. Fear of her sister’s mate of all people, after what happened to Nesta…after they had had enough of her drinking and…other things… and had…pretty much imprisoned her in the House of Wind.

Elain seemingly hadn’t thought about what that could mean for her or Carys…but Carys had thought about it. Carys had realised at that exact moment that if she didn’t do what her sister thought was the right thing to do…she would be the next one kept as a prisoner and the whole thing would be called an intervention. 

Nesta had needed an intervention after the kind of self-destructive behaviour she had indulged in, but the way they had gone about it…it had made Carys terrified. 

And so she had run. 

She had half a mind to take Elain with her but she knew her sister…Elain, most of all…most of all would do whatever she needed to be comfortable and taken care of. 

Elain could be surprisingly cutthroat if need be.

Carys, second oldest after Nesta…the one that had spent years keeping the household running while living in that bedraggled little shed, that had absolutely no talent at archery to be quite frank, but could haul the laundry and cut the wood and stack a fire…that could babysit some of the villagers kids and make sure that they weren’t outright going to starve…that tried to plant potatoes on the tiny plot of land they had and had only been successful half the time…who had mended and hemmed and done anything she could to at least earn her keep. 

Carys, who was considered the ugliest of the sister, to stoutly build, not pretty enough…who even her mother had considered unmarriageable, because who would want an ugly wife with no talents other than maybe cooking and sometimes planting vegetables…

If her mother could see her now…she would be horrified.

“You know, I would prefer it if you called me something else rather than flatterer,” Ardin quipped, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

“Consort?” She suggested drily. That’s what she had heard some people in the palace start to call Ardin, who hated it with a passion. 

But what else to call the husband of a High Lord? Prythian had never had that problem before. Or even a High Lord that had taken not one but two spouses. 

(Probably the one outright shocking thing Thesan had ever done in his life.)

Even when the law in the Dawn Court had been on their side…already changed centuries ago to make it possible for everybody to take as many spouses of any sex as anybody desired, as long as all parties did this of their own free will and were above the age of consent…

 Ardin had drily explained to her that in the ranks of the Peregryn, it wasn’t uncommon for a female to have more than one lover. Or even two. Some had a whole harem of sorts. 

Well, Carys wasn’t going to start that. Two were more than enough as far as she was concerned, thank you very much.                                                                                                                               

“Thanks but I prefer commander of the troops,” Ardin gave back and she smiled at him. 

“The right hand that speaks with the High Lord’s voice and commands in his stead?” She suggested and he just sighed. 

“Cauldron, Thesan came up with it, didn’t he?” Ardin asked and Carys just smiled, saying nothing. “You know, he likes reading poetry and pretends like we don’t know.” 

They did both know about their High Lord's penchant for that…about the sweet little nothings that were whispered in their ears…and the surprisingly filthy things he spewed when he was in the right mood…she loved everything that talented tongue said or did. 

“Husband?” Carys suggested next and he grinned at her, pressing her hand. 

“You could just call me by my name.”

“Ardin, then,” she agreed. 

“Though, of course, you could call me your cauldron-given gift whenever I please you enough to scream my…” she jabbed her elbow in his ribs, smiling apologetically to a long-suffering servant that crossed their path on their way up to their rooms. 

“Not here,” she hissed to Ardin between her teeth. 

“And here I thought we had ruined you so thoroughly that you don’t care anymore,” Ardin quipped. Her shoulders hunched. 

“Humans don’t talk about…that,” she said, her voice quiet. Her cheeks were reddening on their own accord.

She couldn’t help it.  

It wasn’t that she was…ashamed of her husbands. 

She wasn’t. 

But she also knew that if she was still human…this would have never happened. She would have never, never been the one that…She would have never…never taken two husbands. 

There wouldn’t ever have been pleasure like this in her marriage bed. It would have been duty, not love. 

And still…there was a part of her that wanted to keep it to herself. All of it. That didn’t think that anybody had a right to talk about it other than the three of them when they were alone. That thought that…

“I am sorry,” Ardin apologised to her, as he opened the door to their rooms. “I shouldn’t have teased you like that.” He sounded properly contrite now. 

“I should be over it,” Carys responded quietly. 

Overall the human ideas of propriety and modesty and what she shouldn’t do…she shouldn’t blush beet red whenever one of her husbands kissed her outside of the privacy of their rooms. She should be…

She should be able to give them…

“No, you shouldn’t be,” Ardin disagreed, grimacing. “This isn’t…” he stopped his own sentence, as they both heard the slow sound of water filling the bathtub and without a word, they changed direction…her basket of flowers forgotten on a console table.

The bathing chamber was…utterly fae…with a pool worked into the ground that was more than big enough for all three of them. Actually, they had taught Carys to swim in the same. It was more than big enough for that too. 

Thesan was there, lounging relaxed against one of the stone walls, one eye blinking open lazily as he took in the two of them entering. 

A smile appeared on his face, like the sun rising over the horizon and she swallowed at how lovely he looked. 

“There you are,” he greeted them. “I had dinner laid out on the balcony for late.”

“He’s the romantic one,” Ardin whispered playfully and she couldn’t help but smile at her husband as he watched her, dark eyes turning heated, as she started to remove her clothing. 

Ardin helped her after a moment, unlacing the back of her bodice… It was easy enough to slip out of the layers of light, gossamer soft fabric that swathed her body…to pull out the hair comb that held back her reddish brown waves…

She had given up on modesty with the two of them a long time ago. 

And so when she walked into the pool and crossed it to perch herself next to her husband so that she could press a soft kiss against Thesan’s lips…she smiled. 

“Good Evening,” he greeted her as she pulled back, a hand coming up to cup her cheek.  “Did you have a good time?” Thesan asked her. 

“Yes,” Carys agreed. “I gardened a little bit…fed the fish…fixed that shirt that Ardin ripped off you a few days ago…” she quipped with some amusement. “And you?”

“Sat through a meeting about property taxes,” Thesan answered with a hum, as she carded her hand through his damp hair. His dark eyes closed and she shifted, making herself more comfortable, perched on his thigh. 

“You like taxes,” she said softly. He did. It fascinated her that the actual reigning part of being a High Lord, of taxes and making decisions for his court…that was something that Thesan excelled at. He knew all of it by heart too…what was the highest selling export from the Dawn Court, what didn’t sell at all, what they needed from Day or Night or Summer and Autumn…or even Winter and Spring. 

He knew all of that, and he spent many late evenings sitting on his desk, working through his correspondence and doing exactly that. 

Carys left him to him. She wasn’t ready to dabble in politics. And quite frankly, she didn’t think she had any right to it either. 

She had only been in Dawn Court for what felt like a blink of the eyes for most faes, a footnote as far as the history was concerned. And she didn’t think she had any right to rule over faes that were far older and more experienced than she was. 

“It was actually quite interesting,” Thesan agreed with her. 

If she wanted to know something, Thesan was eager to explain it to her, to answer all her questions, but Carys herself kept her own political involvement to the walls of this palace, dealing with servants and cooks and laundry maids and whoever else they hired. 

This was what she had been raised to do, this was what she was good at…and when she got to use the math she had once learned as the daughter of the Prince of Merchant to calculate the expenditures of the palace and cut the fat so to speak…then she was more than happy to do that and spent the rest of her time growing medicinal herbs and do her best to earn her keep.

She left it to Thesan’s sister to deal with the nobility and some of the simpering ladies who treated her like a novelty…who stared at a cauldron-made female with fear and acquiescence. 

Carys had no plans to rule with fear. 

“And you, Ardin?” Thesan asked, closing their little circle of asking each other about their day.

“Oh, the usual. Dealt with some unrest, made somebody regret ever having been born…was an idiot.”

“Tell me something new,” Thesan gave back drily. “What did you do?” He wondered. One hand gently came up to card through her hair, gently making her lay back in the water so that he could wet her hair. 

“Ardin, you don’t…” she protested, but Ardin cut her off. 

“I teased Carys and I owe her an apology.”

“You don’t,” she protested feebly, as Thesan started to work soap throughout her hair, lathering it up, long skilled fingers, against her scalp. She nearly moaned from that alone. 

 “But I do,” Ardin disagreed. “I know that you like your modesty and your privacy and I knowingly violated both. I should not have done that.” 

“What did you say?” Thesan asked calmly, ever the mediator. Staying neutral in any conflict until he knew both sides. 

“Though, of course, you could call me your cauldron-given gift whenever I please you enough to scream my name,” Ardin repeated. “In earshot of one of the servants. I was out of line.” 

“I think that’s a bit harsh,” Carys protested. “The only one who overheard you was one sole servant. And you apologised for it! It’s not your fault that I am…unable to…properly acclimate.” The words were difficult to get out. 

Thesan’s hands stilled. 

“Is that what you think you are doing?” He asked her evenly. 

“I do my best, but…this isn’t the world into which I was born. Where I grew up,” she said softly, biting her lip. “Don’t get me wrong I love the Dawn Court but it’s not…”

It wasn’t home.

Not really. 

Home was the Human Lands and she had been ripped away from that. 

“You never talk about…being human,” Adirn said, as he crossed the pool. 

His wings stretched and then rippled as they were prone to be doing when they got wet. Chances were he would need to shake them out multiple until the feathers would be mostly dry again. 

(At least his annual moulting season was a few months off…the last one had been something. Adirn had been uncomfortable for days while Thesan and her had painstakingly plucked out every last loose feather from his wings.)

“I don’t…Nobody would…nobody would understand,“ Carys whispered. 

Not Thesan, born as the High Lord's heir…not Adirn, born into a tight-knit family, right in the midst of the Dawn Court…Adirn who had learned to fly as he learned to walk…Thesan who was so magical that it glowed on his skin… 

Neither of them were human in the slightest, from the feathers of Adirn’s wings to the pointed tips of Thesan’s ears. 

“We may not understand, but we would listen,” Thesan said quietly, just as Adirn reached out to touch her hands and she intertwined their fingers. 

Thesan’s hands smoothed over her hair and then down her shoulders, as she closed her eyes. 

They would. She didn’t doubt that for one moment. 

“I miss my ears,” she finally blurted out. 

Her ears. Her lovely, rounded ears. Her lovely, human ears. 

Her ears. 

“You miss your ears?” Thesan asked, quietly. She was surprised that it wasn’t Adirn, surprised that…

“I liked my human ears. They were small…they were…well formed. Nobody ever found something to criticise on them, like with the rest of my body,” Carys whispered. “I liked my ears,” she repeated with a sob the tears coming from nowhere. “And now they are…”

“They are beautiful,” Adirn said quietly, one hand coming up to trace the shell of her ear, the arch, the tip…

“They don’t feel like mine,” Carys whispered. “I look at my body and it doesn’t feel like my own sometimes.”

It was…it had grown lush with curves and had become so perfect…too perfect. 

She could no longer count her ribs as she had been able to after the worst of winters…could no longer see the hollows of her cheeks…

“It is yours, all of it is yours,” Adirn said, his hands sliding down carefully…over her chin and her neck and her shoulder. “Yours to do with as you please.”

She knew that. She did know that…but sometimes…a lot of the time…

It didn’t feel like hers.

“I am sorry,” Adirn apologised softly and she shook her head.

“You couldn’t have known that,” Carys assured him softly. A soft sigh left her mouth. 

It was just…

She wiped away a stubborn tear that escaped her and then Adirn pressed a kiss against her cheek and she breathed in the scent of lavender and warmth that clung to him. She tipped forward, leaning her head against his golden brown skin. 

“Want me to make it up to you?” He offered, his voice gravelly and she snorted because she knew exactly what he offered. Though to be honest…the idea of forgetting anything but her husbands…of letting them wring every drop of pleasure from her body…that wasn’t abhorrent. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“If you do all your apologising with your cock, we’ll have a problem, Adirn,” Thesan said drily and she couldn’t help but snort with laughter. 

“Only for you two,” Adirn hit back quickly. “What do you think, love? Whatever you want.”

She knew he was serious about it. There was seemingly nothing that he wasn’t willing to try at least once, nothing that he wasn’t happy to do if it meant that he got to touch her. 

She thought about it for a moment…anything she wanted. 

But the one thing she wanted most of all was to feel like she belonged with them, to them. That they took so much from her that she couldn’t even think about her lost humanity anymore. 

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed her, and she swallowed. 

“I am spoiled for choice,” Carys responded and Thesan chuckled. 

“Want me to narrow it down?” he whispered, warm hands slipping over her hips and she considered it for a moment. 

“No,” she said with a sigh, closing her eyes. “I want your mouth,” she whispered softly, not daring to look at him. “Will you…” she could feel the blush work its way over her cheeks even now. 

“Are you offering me a feast for my taking, love?” Adirn asked her lowly, not teasing her at all. 

She shivered, the outright question enough to send the arousal that had been lowly thrumming through her into overdrive. 

“Yes,” she managed to nod. “I…And I want Thesan inside me while you do it.”

She wasn’t even sure where that had suddenly come from. But as she blurted it out, Thesan lowly groaned behind her, his hands on her hips tightening.

 “I am quite sure that would be a treat for us as well,” Thesan whispered into her ear…but it was the trembling.

One thick finger parted her folds suddenly and she whimpered at the sudden contact, at that knowing touch…“Already wet and ready for us, love?” Adirn asked her, drawing one finger up and finding her clit nearly thoughtlessly…she could swear she could nearly feel another gush of wetness leaving her…

“Always,” she managed to get out, her knees trembling and Thesan caught her easily, chuckling. 

Carys let him pull her into his arms…keeping her eyes closed and just…basking for a moment in their undivided attention on her…in their gentle touches and sweet kisses being pressed to every inch of her damp skin…

She felt Thesan’s magic drift over her skin and she couldn’t help the shiver that it brought out…“I’ll never get used to your magic,” she whispered…he just chuckled. 

“It can be quite useful,” he whispered… and as she weakly blinked open her eyes, she could see how just one push of his magic had reconfigured that massive pool so that there was a comfortable ledge for Thesan to sit on…wide enough that he could lean back against an incline…water still just so lapping at him. 

He gave her a smile as he handed her over to Adirn, making himself comfortable, his thick, long cock jutting out from his frame…He was ready for her, not a question about it. 

Adirn helped her sit on his lap, her back to his front and it only took a second before she could feel the thick, blunt head of Thesan’s cock at her entrance, her body shuddering and yielding near immediately. 

“Just relax,” Adirn coaxed her, holding her in place, just the tip teasing her entrance, even as she already wriggled…. “You know how this goes.”

She took a deep breath, her body going pliant and Adirn let her slide down, her body having no choice but to make room for Thesan’s length. 

She fluttered around his cock, against the heat of him so deep inside her…

Carys couldn’t help herself as she ground down as much as she could, feet grabbling for purchase against slick stone as Thesan’s arms slipped around her frame and immobilised her… completely. 

“Shush,” Adirn said with some amusement. “Be patient.” 

she blinked open her eyes, just as Thesan forced his legs between hers… stretching her not only from within but stretching her legs as wide as they went…

Like a butterfly pinned for viewing pleasure. 

And gods, clearly Adirn enjoyed that view, as dark eyes slid heatedly over her body, over her heaving breasts to her lewdly stretched cunt…her clit peeking out, swollen and wet…impaled deeply onto a cock and still wanting more. More. More. 

“I want to come.”

“Greedy, love,” Adirn clucked his tongue but made himself comfortable…kneeling in the shallow water and giving her a smirk as he was near enough to her wet, stretched pussy that she could hear his hot breath against her overheated flesh. “You already have a cock inside you and it’s still not enough?”

She knew that she was blushing furiously. 

“Get to your apologies.” Carys hadn’t yet mastered that haughty tone of voice. It turned breathy at the end. 

Adirn chuckled again, and then without a forewarning…he buried his face against her pussy, her whole body shaking, a whimper leaving her throat. 

“He does much better if you give him orders,” Thesan said nearly thoughtfully, biting back a groan as her body unwillingly convulsed around his length buried inside her…trembling. “Maybe you should give all of them.“

Adirn lifted up, opening his mouth in protest, but Thesan cut him off. 

“Get back to your apologies, Ardin. Our wife deserves them,” he pointed out reasonably and then cursed as Carys felt Adirn probe where they were joined, throwing her head back into a whine. 

By the cauldron, he was going to fucking kill her with pleasure. 

Thesan cursed and she managed a breathless laugh and Adirn redoubled his efforts. 

By now…By now he knew exactly what to do. It took him an embarrassingly short amount of time to throw her headfirst into her first trembling orgasm, her body clamping down around Thesan’s cock, him groaning, his arms tightening around her body as he buried his face into her neck. 

But Adirn wasn’t done. 

Not at all. 

He was set on absolutely taking her apart. 

And quite frankly…she loved every minute of it. Loved every minute of her heart thumpin in her chest, the pleasure lapping at every nerve ending…loved the feeling of his mouth pressed against her, her tongue licking inside her…loved the bitten-down groans from Thesan behind her, the way his cock twitched deep within her, the walls of her cunt clenchning and unclening without her doing anything, long since having forgotten the use of any of her muscles…

And she couldn’t think about anything but the pleasure her husbands wrought from her. 

 “I love being your wife,” she gasped out, somehow between moans and whimpers, her back arching against Thesan, who nearly seemed to shake against her, the hot length of his inside her stretching her, filling her…Gods, she loved it. 

.“You do excel at it,” Thesan told her, his voice wrecked…A hoarse shout broke out of her throat as Adirn did cauldron knew what to her body, her toes curling with mind-numbing pleasure…White hot and blinding. 

She actually blacked out. Adirn honest to gods managed to make her faint. 

When Carys weakly blinked open her eyes moments later, Thesan was softening inside her, the warmth of his release painting her insides…Adirn was cupping her face, Thesan peppering kisses to her cheeks. 

“Am I forgiven?” Adirn asked her, his voice light on purpose. 

“What did you do again?” she managed to bring out, her voice hoarse. 

Thesan laughed gently behind her, shifting to pull out of her and she moaned, feeling the soreness between her legs, as he moved her off him gently. 

She would never get used to the sheer size of them. 

Just a moment late, a warm hand gently cupped her and Carys whimpered at the trickle of magic, a warm kiss…taking apart any discomfort. 

“Can’t have you be sore tomorrow, can we?” he asked her, a bashful smile on his face and she sighed…in complete and utter happiness. 

“You are so good to me,” she said softly, reaching out to cup the bag of Adirn’s head, pulling him into a kiss. 

He tasted like her and like Thesan and she loved everything about it. 

[genericpuff]

Just saw your response to someone asking about plot points you hate. Can I ask why you don't like Athena/Hestia? From what I remember (take this with a grain of salt because while I've read the whole comic it's more in a junk food, read and forget til next time kind of thing)

From what I remember it's not a huge plot point? Like its just kinda.. there? It doesn't really impact much of the story at large.

Also I agree with the hades/thanatos thing, that's kinda odd and it doesn't make hades any better or more sympathetic of a protagonist. If I remember right, doesn't he abandon thanatos or push him away?

I have issues with the Hestia x Athena plotline the same way I have issues with the Hera x Echo plotline. It all feels shoehorned in for the sake of seeming 'inclusive' towards gay relationships, but gets next to no actual development or screentime aside from the odd lip service meant to benefit Rachel.

Especially when Hestia and Athena were already embraced as LGBTQ+ icons to begin with and didn't need to be shipped together to make it possible. Rachel has a really hard time comprehending aroace identities and this is present even back in her Tumblr days-

If Hestia and Athena are still supposed to be at least ace in LO then we haven't seen any indication of that. So it just makes them look hypocritical as fuck for running the "virgins only club" that is TGOEM (and even going so far as to punish Persephone for being around Hades by confiscating his gift to her) and that unfortunately makes them look like really terrible people which isn't a great look for the only lesbian couple in the story (at least until Eros and Hera were established but whether or not they're an actual couple now or if that was just a one time kiss scene remains to be seen). Like even the reveal that they're together is Artemis figuring it out and then being pissed that she's the "only one following the rules", not them coming out about it on their own terms.

Also no, the Hestia x Athena plotline wasn't as big as the other plotlines, but it was one of the ones that felt so out of left field and forced when it was first established. Plus I'd just love for them to be aroace rep again, there are characters who are legitimate gay icons that got erased so that Rachel could retroactively shove it into other characters without any reasoning or relevance to the plot.

I honestly wouldn't have been so salty about the Hestia x Athena plotline if it were just written better (and if it didn't reek of aroace erasure) and that goes for a lot of the queer relationships in LO, because so many of them are only given the tiniest ounces of screentime, enough for Rachel to take credit for being "inclusive" but not enough for her to actually have a diverse cast. Morpheus is the most consistently present character we've gotten for LGBTQ+ rep and now even she's been fridged :/

Anyways, as for Hades and Thanatos, yeah, the retcon that Hades was a 'father figure' to Thanatos the whole time seems like it was purely written in to make Thanatos look like a hypocrite for having very reasonable concerns regarding the special treatment being given to Persephone at work. But then Rachel had to actually resolve that plotline so in S3 she had Hades approach Thanatos in search of his brother just for them to have a weak 'heart to heart' where Thanatos took the blame for being a 'handful' and Hades trauma dumped and never really took accountability for everything. The fact that we're supposed to believe they have a father-son dynamic really makes the first season gross to read because the whole time Hades is legitimately treating Thanatos like scum. It absolutely does NOT make Hades more likeable, even with the attempt to 'redeem' him which really just made him look like an even bigger asshole u.u

[nonexistent-morals]

canon Madara meets fanon madatobi.

Madara wins (he absorbs Kaguya or sth or imagine she doesn't exist) and he made infite tsukuyomi possible.

He's the only one left in the world. Bored king decides to be nosy so uses his rinnegan to peek into other dimensions (because that's a thing he can do because alien ninja magic). If he'd made different choices, walked different routes, the what ifs.

He finds one where he's the shodai Hokage and he's making out with Tobirama on his lap. why?? Him??

He changes places with fanon Madara for reasons.

This took a bit to get written out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

The thing about being a god in a world of dreams is that eventually you get tired of your own. And for Madara, life at this point after the war has been won, and all things are said and done, after he's had his dream, he's bored. Bored and alone, so like all gods do when Boredom strikes, he's decided to just have a little peak at the other perfect worlds.

First he dipped into hashirama's dream, easily taking the place of the false madara in it, and they had their usual dance on the training fields, and then they went to lunch with his family (mito, tobirama, hashirama's children and izuna). Its funny how hashirama's perfect world has his little brother alive and well, but i suppose thats exactly like hashirama, alway kind and thoughtful.

But even so with how nice a dream it is, there's one thing that with absolute certainty that bothers madara. Senju tobirama, ever observant even in his brothers dream, except its not just his brothers dream, but both of theirs. Tobirama's and hashirama's dreams are connected as are really anyone from founding of the village who are here now. Its a jarring realization.

Madara leaves after the lunch letting false madara go back to his dream life, not because he wants to, but because tobirama had been giving him this look of suspicion when his brother wasn't paying attention . Somehow how he's missing something about tobirama's part of the dream, and clearly its enough to make him scrutinize his actions.

So now madara is watching his false self parade around hokage tower, doing paperwork, giving orders, and currently walking into the white haired senjus office. It makes him wonder if this part of the dream is hashirama wanting them to get along or tobirama scheming.

Madara's not really paying any attention to their conversation, he's to busy looking at tobirama's body language, which is far to relaxed for any of their original interactions in real life, and his facial expressions are also more easy to read. It really is fascinating in a morbid sort of way, it makes him feel uneasy.

By this time fake Madara is sitting on the edge of tobirama's desk, tobirama is looking up at him with a very small amused smile, and this time he decides to listen to what he says.

“really madara, at work, in the middle of the day when we have a meeting in 30 minutes?” tobirama says it in fond tone, madara didn't know the senju demon was even capable of sounding like that.

“You and i both know that 30 minutes is more than enough time, especially from someone as competent as you.” Its odd hearing his own voice coming from another person, even if hes not real.

At this response tobirama rolls his eyes at him, soft smile still on his lips, looking so very pleased with himself and pulls the fake madara in to him by his waist, and Madara can only watch as tobirama begins unfastening his pants, and its at this point he decides to leave the dream. Madara is left with so many more questions than answers.

[sovereignjojoz]

Distraction

Pairing: smoke/Tomas x reader, I don’t even know if I can tag this Bi-Han x reader because it’s not, but just know Bi-Han has complex ambiguous feelings towards the reader that even I don’t know?????

Summary: The grandmaster disapproves of smokes lover for some reason unbeknownst to them, so he tells them to end it. Two endings.

Warnings: angst but there’s also a separate comforting ending, one mention that reader wears a dress, self-loathing reader in the angst part.

Notes - this was going to be more angsty originally I just couldn’t picture a meaner scenario, because smoke is too nice so I just lessened the angst to something bittersweet (cry) (I want to write something gut wrenching) anyways might write something for syzoth/Bi-han next idk. Requests are always open!!

Bi-Han, the ever stoic Sub-Zero, found himself in an unexpected dilemma, and it was all Tomas’ fault.

Or more specifically your fault.

Recently, Tomas had gotten a lover. Although some may think otherwise the grandmaster was not adverse to such things so long as they didn’t become a distraction.

You were a distraction.

You couldn't be more different from the warriors of their clan. You were like a breath of warmth in the icy corridors of the Lin Kuei compound, bubbly, kind-hearted, and devoid of combat prowess, you stood out like a flower in a field of snow.

While smoke was smitten with your gentle nature and somewhat naivety, Bi-Han couldn't shake off his disapproval.

Your unfiltered presence felt like a disruption to the disciplined order of their lives, a stark contrast to the solemn silence that usually enveloped the Lin Kuei.

Even now he could hear Tomas trying to hush up the sound of muffled laughter and giggles from the other side of the compound, was a place of komat and violence really a place for laughter to make home?

The grandmaster often tried to keep his distance as a result hoping that the incompatibility of you in their lifestyle would become increasingly clear, yet it had been months and it seemed as though you had no intention to leave Tomas’ side.

He didn’t understand what Tomas saw in you, of course your exterior beauty was clear to all (although Tomas wasn’t one to judge on appearance alone) but you were a non fighter. Bi-Han likened your presence to a fragile glass sculpture delicately balanced on the edge of a precipice, it was as though you needed a box to protect you from the harshness of the compound as it seemed as though a mere wispre could shatter your delicacy - and they were never one for whispering.

Perhaps Tomas could be considered the box you sought out, a sanctuary where you could retreat from the harshness of the world and cocoon yourself in layers of protection, so not to mar your fragile heart.

Yet was Tomas considered capable? Many occasions he’d returned home bloodied and bruised, wracking your heart with grief where you should have been finding solace. Sniffles and sobs lined the walls of the corridors while smoke tried his best to be comforting. He knew how this song and dance played out, a few forlorn touches whilst being patched up then the distress would cease (and in its place came the sound of affection).

Such a cycle will be futile for the one who is considered soft hearted, would it not? With enough pressure even resilience can shatter.

He supposed that was the good thing with his younger brother, he never put pressure on you which is why you were always able to be somewhat resilient and converse freely with him.

He was a firsthand witness to this many times and coincidentally one of those many times he overheard you two freely conversing was currently taking place.

“Tomas please don’t,” you begged loudly, and pouted willing him to look you in the eye.

When it came to many things Tomas was strong willed, but you were his one exception, you’d leave him inexplicably weak “pretty, you know I have to, water is quite literally gushing out of the chamber you stay in.” He countered as he pulled you along behind him.

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand, “But you know that is no issue to me, in fact it will just be like sleeping on a water bed.”

Tomas chuckled heartily, “you’re funny you know baby. Okay then it’s not an issue with you but it is an issue with me, can’t have you getting sick.”

You tried to hold him in place by hugging him, “my immune systems is top notch you know!” But he just threw you over his shoulder with ease and continued walking. “Besides can’t I just sleep with you?”

He felt your smaller fists pound on his back urging him to let you down, it was akin to a marshmallow pounding on wood. “You know I would love that but the grandmaster forbid us from sharing a room because of last time.”

You rested your face on his head sighing, “it was your fault, you were the one who squealed.”

He pinched your hip lightly, although it was enough to make you involuntarily yelp. “Let’s not forget who bit me.”

“Hey you knowingly signed up for that when we started dating.”

He flashed you a smile as he threw you down on the couch and brought out an imaginary key to lock you up with.

You gasped betrayed, “I know I know, ‘m sorry! I didn’t want to have to resort to this but your presence is too captivating, just give me three minutes my angel then I’m all yours.”

You relented beckoning him to go on so you could brood whilst you waited for him, the grand master watched this whole debacle go down and decided to make his presence known.

His presence startled you leading you to jump up upon his entrance, “good evening grandmaster.” You palmed at your dress in a state of nervousness.

The tall male eyed you up and down, “where is Tomas.”

“Smokey-” a disapproving frown crept onto his face, you cleared your throat, uncomfortable, “Tomas just left.”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Yes that is evident, to where.”

You bit your bottom lip “he, um, went to the bedroom to fix a broken tap.”

His eyes flickered to you, a harsh glare almost making you want to flinch, “everything in the lin kuei compound is made to perfection, how did it break.”

You took a couple steps back as his proximity slightly intimidated you, “we shared a bath together a-and I must have splashed around to much, I’m really sorry grandmaster please don’t blame smok-”

“Enough.” His glare was enough to silence your nervous rambling. “Sit. I’m going to speak to Tomas, do not disturb us.”

It seemed as though you wanted to say something but you held yourself back deciding to sit down like he instructed you (good choice).

When Tomas heard footsteps approaching he initially thought nothing of it, thinking you had tired of being by your lonesome and wanted his attention again.

Then he heard the heaviness to the footsteps, those weren’t your delicate footsteps.

He used his vestment to wipe the sweat off his brow before answering the door.

“Grandmaster.” Tomas greeted.

Bi-Jan forced his own entry into the room, locking the door behind them, tension hanging thick in the air.

Smoke tried to read his expression his but it was unreadable, although it seemed like a form of inevitable confrontation was about to occur based on the face he was currently making.

“Is there anything-?”

“You are becoming reckless Tomas.”

Smoke furrowed his brows in confusion, he had no idea what the grandmaster was referring to. “What?”

“You broke a tap.”

Tomas rubbed his nape sheepishly, “technically you could say that, but I’ve already fixed it.”

Bi-han stepped closer to smoke, “It is beyond unacceptable.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Do we tolerate mistakes?”

Smoke had a lingering suspicion this issue ran deeper than the tap, of course Bi-Han would be displeased about his broken tap however he seemed to snappy for the issue to just be about the tap.

“We don’t but [name] didn’t mean to-?”

“Answer.”

“No?”

“Yet irregardless of that you did not show up to morning training.” A look of recognition flashed across smokes face, “as your grandmaster that will not be tolerated. You must end your relationship with [name].”

A look of disbelief overcame Tomas’ face. “What? Where is this coming from, why would I do that?” He asked, hurt seeped in his voice.

Bi-Han pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “[name] is a distraction and a liability, if [name] were here now your focus would slip and you would struggle to focus on anything else evidently shown by the way you missed morning training.”

“That was my own decision.” Tomas answered defending you from Bi-Hans criticism, “[name] only asked if I would join, I was the one who said yes full well knowing about the training. If anyone is to blame it’s me.”

“It doesn’t matter Tomas. The fact you even said yes proves how far gone you are. [name] is not a warrior nor a medic but a weakness, an attachment to you that makes you vulnerable and puts us all at risk.”

Tomas’ jaw clenched in frustration, “Grandmaster please excuse me but you have no right to judge. You do not understand what you are talking about, [name] is not my weakness.”

“You are being selfish in your pursuits Tomas. Perhaps if she were a warrior there would be room negotiate but someone so tenuous is pitiful.”

“Then forgive me for being selfish grandmaster but I will not relent.” Tomas turned sharply on his heel to exit the room.

Angsty ending

“You will. If you dare to disobey me then take your stuff with you because you will no longer reside here.”

Tomas stopped in his tracks, his hand shakily hovering over the door knob.

He knew he had no more room to argue but he wanted to, more so than ever since it was a battle between his head and his heart.

Tomas threw his head back, exhaling angrily through his nostrils, then he pulled opened the door brashly and stormed out.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“Smokey?” He saw your head appear into his view from around the corner, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” You wrapped your arms tightly around his middle hoping to comfort him, “you seem tense?”

Smoke said nothing and just pulled you close with a desperate longing that was almost too tight. There's a sense of safety in the closeness as your breaths synchronise with his. You frowned pitifully and pulled his head down to your shoulder, gently caressing his hair.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his cheek.

“It’s not.”

“You can tell me what’s the matter?”

He lifted his head up trying to maintain his composed mask, “Bi-Han wants us to break up.”

Your shock lead your grip to loosen on him however he reacted quickly putting it back where it once was.

“Oh.”

He ran a hand through his ashen hair, “don’t worry, we’re not breaking up I’ll just deal with the consequences.” He spoke attempting to give you a reassuring smile but it came out more wry.

It was quite hard to process your current emotions but you were trying your best, “what are the consequences?”

“I’m out.”

Shock painted your face, “you can’t do that this is your whole life, you love it here.”

He brought your hand to his face, “I also love you.”

“I know.” You sniffled and tried your best to wipe the unruly tears that slipped out of the corner of your eyes.

You sighed. “He hates me, right? I must have done something again and now he’s had enough of me, it’s all my fault, I-I’m so stupid-!” You hit your head twice before smoke caught your hands and held them together tightly.

“stop it.”

Despite your hands being bound, you got past him and manage to wrap your hands around his blade, “what if I just cut my hair or if I talk less, I’ll change whatever he wants, I’ll study everything and become more proper…I’ll do anything to make him like me more for you-” smoke tuned out the rest of what was being discussed as he felt you trying to pull the blade towards your hair, he knew irrationality was getting to you. You tried your best to overpower him yet you knew it wouldn’t be possible, he was a warrior you were nothing.

The blade flicked out of your hand and made a small gash on your cheek, but the wound stung more from your saline tears than the actual sharpness of the blade.

His thumb wiped the blood and tears off of your soft skin, “it’s okay, you’ll be alright and I don’t care what he think I like you how you are, I never want you to change.”

“Well that would be good if the grandmaster didn’t hate current me that you love. Why does he hate me, he probably has a good reason anyway…All I want is to be with you…nothing else. but I’m not going to hold you back regardless.”

Smoke purses his lips. He had no answer for you, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what the grandmasters peculiarity with you was or where this sudden snap came from, he didn’t want to doubt his grandmaster but he felt like there was more to this so called ‘dislike’ if he could even call it that.

His head was a mess.

“There is no good reason.” He didn’t answer your question, instead he just pulled you close into his embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault Tomas.”

“Yeah but still, it’s not fair. You shouldn’t doubt yourself like this thinking it’s your fault and our relationship shouldn’t be ending. Period. I should be able to do something but…If only things could have been different.” Or the grandmaster could have understood instead of being an arrogant ‘know-it-all’, “then…” the words died out on his tongue.

Your lips sadly turned upwards as you stroked his cheek, “but they’re not so there’s no time for lamenting, so I guess this is goodbye Smokey.”

As you took your hand away from his cheek he immediately felt the loss of warmth, replaced with a coolness he didn’t think he’d ever be forced to get used to.

But at least his heart was ignited one last time seeing you smile, even if it was in sadness and not long lasting, it would be a while before he let that smoke fizzle out.

“Goodbye sweetheart.”

Comforting ending

Before you were even aware of what was happening to you, a tug of your hand was pulling you forward leaving you stumbling to catch up with your feet.

“Tomas? Where are we going?”

He continued walking at a brisk pace, not stopping till you were outside the compound, “just for a walk, need to let some steam off.���

“You need to cool off some smoke?” You joked laughing at your pun.

That managed to crack a small smile from him, “and Bi-Han wants this to end,” he muttered under his breath.

You tilted your head at him in a curious manner, “what?”

He stopped beneath a tree, decorated with soft glistening snow on top of the wooden branches. He tuned towards you and squished your cheeks together before giving you a soft kiss. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay!”

You couldn’t figure out what it was but he was heavily concentrated on something in the distance right now, his face was clouded by a far a way look till he abruptly turned to face you. “Hey, do you want to get married?”

You gasped surprised, “really? You’d marry me!”

Smoke grinned enthusiastically, “would I? Of course I would!”

You jumped on him to excited to contain yourself making him stumble backwards before he steadied himself and you, “okay! It would probably only take me like two days to find a dress and we could just go down and sign the documents unless you wanted to have a big official thing but I’m not sure how that would-”

He pinched your lips while laughing to silence your rambling, “how about now?”

“But we have nothing I-!”

He cut you off once more, “we don’t need anything, just us, it will make it special! sure it will be informal but only us two will get it!”

“Here look,” he grabbed your smaller hands in his larger coarse hands, “[name], may I be forever yours.”

“Yes, you may Tomas.”

He grinned and pulled his face towards you, giving you a tender and lasting smooch. “Now we’re married!”

“You hit him lightly on his shoulder, “you were meant to wait for me to repeat it!”

He pulled you down to the floor, making you sit on his lap, “M sorry, ‘m sorry! I couldn’t wait.”

You sighed content, laying your head on top of his muscular shoulder, “it’s okay, you have forever to make it up to me.”

His lips curled upwards as he rested his head on top of yours.

Yeah, forever sounds nice.

[christiannerd]

IBS is a disability

TW for discussion/vent about how a disability affects me, and mention of having to hide pain

Disclaimer: I am new to Tumblr, and have yet to watch an etiquette video. If I have accidentally said or done anything I wasn't supposed to, it was entirely unintentional, and I deeply apologize. I will correct it as soon as I am made aware.

Warning: long post ahead (under the cut)

IBS should be considered a disability. I know a bunch of people in the disabled community online already consider it one, but legally it's not considered one.

Sure, im still able to have a job and do my school work, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make those things harder than it would be for someone who's digestive system isn't a mine field.

What happens when I have a flare-up at work? Which, by the way, has happened before. I can't just take a 2 hour bathroom break in the middle of my 8 hour shift! So I just stand there. in pain. ignoring the pain. keeping that customer-service smile on my face so the customers don't notice I'm in pain.

One time (before I had my meds, so the pain was a lot worse back then too) I was working a shift and my boss stationed me in the elevator. Literally the most useless job I could have been given, I was just there to press the buttons for customers. (I had a more important role at one specific spot in the shift, but that lasted like 5 minutes). I had a flareup towards the beginning of that shift. I could tell this was going to be a multi-hour bathroom visit, so I couldn't do anything about it until I got off work. I was in so much pain that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. But of course, I couldn't do that. I had to stand there, and smile, and keep working. So not only was I having to smile through the judgemental stares and comments bc I was being paid to press elevator buttons, but I had to ignore being in agonizing physical pain as well.

Its not that my IBS stops me from having a job, but it probably effects my performance at my job. Who can focus in that much pain? Sure that day focus wasn't really an issue bc I was just pressing elevator buttons, but in any other position it would have been a major problem. And if I dealt with the problem to make the pain go away, I'd lose several hours of work, on a consistent basis, and probably be fired for it.

And as far as school, hygine, and social life goes, I lose several hours out of my day, every day, to being stuck in the bathroom trying desperately to make the pain go away. You think that doesn't effect my ability to find time for homework? You think that doesn't effect my ability to make it to class? You think that doesn't effect my ability to take care of my body in other ways?

I very often have to choose between going to class or taking a shower, because the time I was suppose to be in the shower, I was on the toilet. I often have to choose between getting my homework done, and spending time with friends, because the time I was supposed to be doing homework, I was stuck in the bathroom. I know homework vs social life is a common time balancing problem for students, but for most people it's "less time with friends to get the homework done", but for me it's very often "no time with friends to get the homework done". It's so isolating. If I didn't see these people at church, and at club meetings, I'd probably never get to see them. (and yes, I have missed or been late to those bc of my IBS as well)

My IBS has kept me up until the middle of the night before. It's made me miss class. It's made me late to things. It's made me miss exams! (Thank goodness my professors were understanding enough to let me take it another time).

The only ways I can manage my IBS is by taking meds, and/or severely restricting my diet. My pills help me be able to avoid some of the pain from eating food, but like any disability aid, it doesn't help 100%. Without my meds, most vegetables are completely out of the question. So is a long list of fruits, and so many other things. Even tea hurts me! Coffee too! Meds help, but I'm still in pain. Less pain, but still pain. And im still spending hours in the bathroom. 1-2 hours at a time, instead of 3-4, but it's still countable in terms of hours.

This is a lifelong condition that I was born with. If any other part of my body was effecting me this way, no one would doubt that I'm disabled. Heck, this effects me more than some of the recognized disabilities that I have! How is this not a disability?

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 8)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, illusions to sex, angst, alcohol consumption, etc

*We’re getting down to it, only two (possibly three) more chapters to go ❤️

It feels like the air has been punched clean out of your lungs, but just as quickly, logic takes over and shakes you straight.

Obviously, you’ve misunderstood…and you tell him as much.

“I guess I’m not following you, Josh.” You attempt a casual laugh and nudge his shoulder with your own, scrambling for normalcy. “But, I suppose it really isn’t any of my business, anyway.”

His stare remains locked on Lily, with that proud, faraway look that so often softens his expression when he watches her. “You’re following me just fine, sweetheart. You’re just a little off kilter because I sort of threw it at you. I’m sorry for that.”

Funny, you’ve never actually had an ‘I must be dreaming’ moment…but you’re certainly having one now. That has to be it, you’ve conjured this jumbled up mess inside your head.

You’re at home, still sleeping off the blunt shared with Jake. Right? No, you can feel the warm humidity of the day building in the air, there is the faint knock of a woodpecker lost somewhere in the trees, there is the sound of him breathing, waiting, existing, beside you.

This is no dream - but it’s every bit as confusing as one.

Afraid she might overhear, you pitch your voice less than a whisper, so quiet you almost don’t hear your own question, but Josh does.

“Yes, she’s Jake’s,” a gently possessive edge nips at his tone. “Biologically. It doesn’t matter, that little girl is mine, and I’m her’s. But yeah, that’s what I meant when I said I could never repay him. Look at her…”

A smile breaks across his face, warm, gorgeous, and absolutely beaming with adoration as he studies her pointing something out in the sand. Her buddy leans in closer to inspect her discovery, as they carry on what seems to be a very serious discussion.

“He gave me my favorite girl. My everything. I would’ve died for him before, now I’d do it with a smile just because he asked. How could I ever level the playing field?”

There’s that playing field making its appearance again, albeit for a very different reason this time around.

“I don’t understand.” And you don’t. You’ve never understood anything less in your life. You can’t get a read on how, or why, or if it really even matters. It’s like someone has taken all the facts you’ve ever known to be true and mixed them all up. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. The puzzle is jumbled and missing pieces.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He shrugs, already intimately acquainted with the situation that has ripped the rug out from beneath your unsteady feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but if I’m being honest…which I guess is exactly what we’re doing here…I didn’t want him to beat me to it. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I really don’t even know why, and it sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“He never said a word.” The moment you speak the words, you remember Jake’s, she looks like her dad.

Josh leans back against the weathered wood bench and crosses his ankle over his knee. You’d like to ask him how he’s so casually fucking with your head, but you know this really isn’t about you at all.

“Of course he never said a word. Our stoic mystery man, whom you can’t seem to quit. Just remember, my love, still waters run deep. There are a great many things that Jacob has never said a word about. He would have, though. Eventually. Something about you seems to just drag things to the surface for us. Sorceress.”

He’s only teasing. Likely trying to lighten the heaviness of the conversation, but you blush all the same. As only Josh can, he both grins at the pink in your cheeks, and pretends not to see it, to spare your pride.

The way they speak - so alike in sound, inflection, turns of phrase, poetically laced and lovely - only serves to confuse you further. At times, it's like being with the same man who just happens to have split personalities.

“A great many things Jacob has never said a word about,” You muse,” Bigger than this?” You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

A laugh, easy and genuine, trips out of him, louder by far than anything that has been murmured thus far, “Fuck, I hope not!”

Lil’s head snaps up, attention hooked; though her friend is more interested in watching her reaction than what she is reacting to. “Daddy said a bad word!” The accusation in her tone makes him sigh, defeatedly.

“No, I didn’t!” Josh holds his hands up in innocence, clearly enamored by her tiny cross examination. “Daddy said truck. We were playing the rhyming game.”

“Like we play in the car on the way to Gramma’s?” She shouts over, with disappointment now coloring her end of the exchange…she delights in catching grown ups misbehaving.

“That’s the one.” He smiles with an exhale of relief, like a little boy who has just successfully evaded punishment. “Never, ever, tell anyone how coolly I just lied to that angelic face.” He adds through his teeth, smiling with a wave in her direction.

“That angelic face can be brutal.” You giggle at his nonsense. “Last week she caught me eating one of those vegetarian sushi rolls you hog for yourself, and milked me for extra goodies at snack time for days in exchange for silence.”

“Jokes on you,” he rolls his big brown eyes as if he can’t believe your behavior. “I count them, and I knew it all along.”

“Yeah, well, you just admitted to counting your sushi rolls, so who should be ashamed of themselves, here? ‘Cause it isn’t me.” You’re joking, but only a little.

After an absurdly easy stretch of silence, he turns serious and quiet again, “Look, I know that I dumped this on you, and I know you’ve probably got a million questions…you deserve answers to every single one of them. Come to mom’s with me, yeah? She’s making a big lunch. Sammy’s bringing the dog. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat, she’ll eventually insist on keeping Lil for the night and we’ll go home. I’ll make you dinner and we can talk.”

“Talk? Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?” You grin, how is everything always so easy with him? This shouldn’t be so casual. It shouldn’t feel this normal to joke about sleeping with him while grappling with something so monumental.

Incidentally, why are you joking about sleeping with him? Because you want to put it out there, that you’re still thinking about it, that you still want it…that’s why.

How do they do this? Both of them. It hardly seems fair. Or normal, for that matter. And he has the nerve to talk of sorcery?

The wind is fluttering through the leaves, rustling them like a soothing psalm. It causes your thoughts to wander…which seems odd; how could you be thinking about anything but this nuclear bomb he has just detonated inside your head. But somehow, wander they do, your thoughts - and you find yourself eyeing the trees, trying to hone in on the one lucky enough to have earned Jake’s favor.

Like always, Josh seems to know what you’re thinking. “It’s across the park. Over closer to that little pond where Lil likes to feed the ducks.”

“What?” You adopt a puzzled expression, though you cannot for the life of you fathom why. Josh knows. Just like his brother, Josh always knows.

It is a frustrating, exhausting fact, but a fact all the same.

“Jake’s tree.” He clarifies, proving what you already understood to be true…that he can peer inside your head and heart as easily as he could were you made of windows. “It’s over by the pond. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” You brush your hands over your arms as if you’ve caught a chill, though the air borders on muggy.

“Okay,” He nods, completely at ease with this unusual situation you’ve found yourselves in. “Would you like to see him?”

Awkwardly, you watch those leaves as they wave and dance together, anything to save from meeting his eyes.

“Is okay to say yes, love…” he taps your knee, just an innocent ‘hello’, and so different from the last time he touched you. “I’d like to see him too. He’ll undoubtedly be at our mother’s lounging around like he owns the place. Come with us.”

“Do they know?” You venture tentatively, “Your parents?”

Your eyes are on him now as he shakes his head. Sometimes you forget how truly beautiful he really is and then you wonder how you ever could.

“Contrary to popular belief, Jake and I can keep a secret.”

“Not even your mother?” You find this hard to believe, as much as Jake taunts his twin for being a ‘mama’s boy’, he’s just as bad. They trust her with everything.

Josh nods at Lily, who is now flouncing her way over like a fairy who has misplaced her wand…all swishing ponytail and laughing eyes. “Not even her mother.”

The windows for questions has slammed shut, leaving all of yours to slam against the pane of glass like dazed birds.

~

“Rosie, get down!” Sam’s voice barks across the kitchen, startling you out of your thoughts. Rosie, unfazed and standing on her hind legs, continues to peruse the veggie plates and chip bowls Karen has set out on the counter, sniffing out delicious scents and temptations.

“Rosebud, I swear, if you don’t—“

“Samuel,” Karen scolds, snapping at him with the hand towel she’s been toting around. “Get off your ass and get her. Stop acting like an idiot in my kitchen.”

Sammy lopes over and grabs his faithful companion by the collar, lovingly tugging her away. “I don’t come here to be treated like I’m five, ma.” He complains, sweeping open the back door.

“Shut up, and go help your brothers.” She’s turned away from him and smiling, but judging by his returning smile, he has heard the adoration in her admonishing words.

At the table, bathed in the warmth of Karen’s sunny kitchen, you watch Jake and Josh confer near the enormous lilac bush Kelly has insisted be torn out.

“Too close to the septic system.” He’d informed the room when everyone protested ripping such a beauty from the earth, “The roots are gonna screw it all up and not a damn one of you are gonna want to come help clean up the aftermath.”

Of course, the boys have been tapped to help, as Kelly insists there’s no time like the present, and of course, Sammy has been shirking his duties ever since. True to form, rather than joining the twins, he opts for a chair to toss a tennis ball to Rosie from.

Your heart warms watching his honest and open face laugh gleefully as she chases down her bouncing prey. He is the sweetest gem, and you wish you knew him a little better.

But, as it so often does, your attention wanders back over to Josh, in his casual weekend wear, clean and crisp…and Jake, looking gorgeously rumpled and out of place in the domesticity of it all. You know he smells of ember and the Booker’s he is currently nursing out of a plastic tumbler to ensure Lil doesn’t ask questions.

You miss them both. They feel very far away as you watch on, smiling when they raise their arms to point something out to Kelly in perfect, unplanned, synchronicity.

Karen is suddenly beside you, staring out across the deck as well, chomping on a baby carrot. “It’s fun to watch them, isn’t it?”

She offers you a veggie and you take it, nodding in complete agreement around a bite.

“See how they mirror each other?” She marvels softly, wistful for her babies. “They’ve always done it. Even in the hospital, one would move, and there would go the other. Josh had terrible colic - briefly, thank god - and Jake would tense up even before Josh made a peep, like he could feel it coming. They’re each other's keepers.”

Be it motherly intuition, or perhaps just the nostalgia of having all of her boys home at once, she has chosen an ideal time to share. With the men all outside either tending to chores or shirking them, and Lil napping on the couch, you have her, and her memories, all to yourself.

“Tell me more about what they were like.”

If she senses something more behind the question, she doesn’t let on. “They were terrors. Little monsters, just awful. But, gentle angels at the same time. Always quick with a hug or a thoughtful comment. Even when they were just tiny things, they honed in on people and just sank their little teeth into heart after heart.”

“Some things never change then, I guess.” You shouldn’t have said it and long to take it back. They get their empathetic third eye from their mother, and you know she’ll clock the situation for what it is.

But again, she stays mum on the subject of why you seem just as wistful as she.

“They struggled so hard in school,” she finally confides, eyes on them as they begin wrapping ropes around the root of the bush that, evidently, must go. “It was painful. Mostly because they were just so intelligent, but it was all locked away when it came to brick and mortar schooling. They just froze right up behind those little desks.”

You knew this. Josh has explained their plight a hundred times over, wringing his hands with worry that Lily-bit might struggle to overcome the same mountains. Still, it’s so difficult to imagine them, easily two of the most intellectually enriched, well read and spoken human beings you have ever met, grappling with crippling learning disabilities.

“We worked with them endlessly, and hired tutors, and they tried so damn hard.” Her voice wavers a touch, as if she’s swallowing down tears. “When the pieces started falling in place for them, Josh took to reading faster than Jakey. He had these phonics books he liked, and they would hole up in their room for hours while Josh helped him sound the words out. I used to listen at the door. It was like magic…Josh would utilize all the inner workings of that shared mind they can access, and somehow, he’d make it make sense for his brother. He’d remind him to slow down and really see all those turned around letters so kindly it made you want to crumble. Josh was the only one Jake ever went to for help, you couldn’t have paid him to be that vulnerable with anyone else. And Josh just soaked it up, helping Jake connect those dots. He’d grow so ecstatic and proud with each tiny success.”

You both laugh as Josh shoves at Jake’s shoulder, pointing angrily at the lilac and their task, clearly unhappy with something his twin hasn’t executed to his liking.

“That’s when I knew he’d be a teacher.” Her hand, so warm and maternal, pats your shoulder. “Josh, that is. We knew Jake’s fate the minute he was old enough to crawl towards a guitar.”

“The music man,” you watch him nip at his cup, leisurely and mellow, even as his brother barks orders at him.

“The music man.” She concurs, crunching into another carrot. “Always. Have you ever seen him play a song by ear? He’ll listen to it once and just stare off into space like nobody’s home. But really, he’s plucking all those notes out and locking them away. Next thing you know, he’s got it. Just like that. It’s incredible. Kelly and I used to look at each other and think, where in the hell did he come from?”

“Josh, too,” you offer, though of course she knows. “He sings to Lil all the time. Makes up these dumb little songs to make her laugh, or to help her remember something. And he sings in the shower because he seems to think it’s a magical box where no one can hear him.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughs, sliding her plate closer to you, ever the ‘mom’ wanting to nourish anyone who walks through her hallowed halls. “The shower concerts. He used to steal all the hot water constantly. It was worth it, though, to listen. They had a little band for a while. Did you know that?”

In your mind’s eye, the few pictures you’ve seen, pop up to say hello. “Sort of, but Josh kinda blew it off when I asked. Said he just helped Jake out with a few gigs when they were kids.”

A belly laugh, so much like her sons’, trills out of her. “It was way more than that, that liar. Used to have to drag them to all these shitty bars and parties. Samuel played bass. A friend of theirs, the drums…or sometimes Josh. That was always interesting. They were a mess, all over the place, but they had something special. And that’s not just mom talking, everybody said so.”

“So, what happened?”

“They started gaining a little recognition. Started being invited to play at the nicer places around town, and that was the idea all along, we thought. But, suddenly, Jake wanted nothing to do with it.”

Jake calling it quits would have been the absolute last thing you would have deemed to be the nail in the coffin.

She senses your surprise and nods along with it. “He finally told me why one night. Came in after having one too many at one party out in the woods or another. I sat him down at this very table right here and I know he thought I was about to climb up his ass about tapping a keg with his friends or whatever the hell they did that night, but really, I wanted to drag the truth out of him. The truth that mattered.”

“And?”

She leans back in her chair, shaking her head as if she still can’t believe it. On your end, you watch Josh snatch the cup from Jake’s grasp to steal a sip of his own.

“And, it made sense…his reason. Once he said it out loud it made so much sense I still don’t know how I’d missed it. He said things were falling together too cleanly for the band. That he knew they were headed for something that would be too heavy to easily put down, and that he knew it wasn’t what Josh wanted.”

A sigh sounds sad, but her eyes swim with pride for her youngest twin. “I told him he should let his brother make that call, but he’s always been wiser than the rest of us when it comes to Josh, and he said ‘That’s the thing, ma. He’s always gonna choose what I want. He has to think he’s choosing what I want.’”

Your throat feels tight with tears bitten back, “The way they have carried each other all through life is just…” you fall silent, lost for apt words.

“Yeah, well, they used to beat the hell out of each other on a regular basis, too, but that is for another day..” She nods toward the doorway behind you, and you turn to see Lil, rubbing her eye with one fist, and clutching her blanket with the other, as she stumbles nearer to coherency and her grandmother.

Karen scoops her up and whispers in her ear…Lil nods along and nuzzles her blankie, which is actually an old shirt of her daddy’s cut in half. Maroon and decorated with strange, colorful, geometric shapes, it has been her comforting companion for as long as you’ve known them.

“Okay, then…” Karen stands and deposits her favorite person down on her teensy feet. “Time to get this lunch finished up.”

Lily is sent off with a bribery popsicle to play with Rosie and Sam, as the two of you begin preparing to feed the brood.

~

“Why do I always find you up here, poppins?” He’s leaning against the doorframe, like the casually dapper lead in some movie he would never watch.

You turn away from the desk, where you’ve been gingerly touching relics, as though strolling through a particularly lenient museum.

You love this space, and you make no apologies for it. “I like it in here. Comforting chaos is kind of your brand. Both of you. Why do you always seem to be sneaking up on me in here?”

He grins softly as you lob the question back at him. “I suppose I am always sneaking up on you, aren’t I? Looking for you, searching you out, hunting for my girl.”

Hunting for my girl…jesus.

A gentle hum is your only reply as he slips into the room, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. He has showered since the lilac bush incident, and stepped into clean clothes that still somehow look disheveled.

His hair is still slightly damp, and you long to bury into it, to breathe in the perfume of fresh shampoo and him.

“You spoiled me last night, you know, babe.” Down he plops on his bed, the crowned royal head draped across his sovereign throne, just as he had been the last time you found yourself in this room with him. “Why don’t you come over here and allow me to indulge a little more, hmm? Can you be quiet, pretty girl?”

“Jake.”

He kisses the air lazily in your direction, folding his hands behind his head against the pillow, like you haven’t spoken his name at all, “C’mon, baby, I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

You want to go to him. God, how you want to go to him. You want to climb on top of him and fuck his beautiful mouth until you fall apart, and then you want to lie with him in this silent world it seems time has forgotten. You want to be his while her face smiles out of all those curling, yellowing, snapshots. She was so beautiful, a stunning package to hide all the ugliness she had in store for his precious heart.

But, you want truth even more.

“Would you have ever told me?” Your question - accusation? - comes a whisper.

He sits up slowly, eyes locked in and narrowed on yours. He knows what you’re asking, but he’s trying to make certain. You let him watch you for the longest stretch, with his pretty face tilted, studying, observing, until you’re fighting to sit still under his white hot scrutiny.

“Yes.” He nods, at last. “I think I probably would have. It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way you coax the truth out of us. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

There they go again, singing different verses of the very same song.

“She’s what you gave up?” You lean forward, hushed and hungry for answers. “Like we talked about?”

He nods again, barely perceptible in the movement. “Like a kidney, right, poppins? Only so, so much worse.”

Questions gridlock inside your head as he shakes his own. “I told you before, it isn’t my story to tell, babe…and that’s just the way this one has to be.”

He closes up shop with a blink and saunters, calm and cool as ever, over to the door. “C’mon then, Mary Poppins, if you aren’t going to allow me to have my way with you, we really should rejoin the others.”

~

“Would you like something light?” Josh peers into his fridge while you watch from your perch on the counter. “I just picked up some strawberries from that little stand around the corner, I could make us a big salad. Fruit, nuts, romaine, a nice vinaigrette?” He holds up the basket of berries proudly. “Look how fat they are. Fucking beautiful.”

“Whatever you want, Josh,” you smile at his enthusiasm, as well as his eagerness to please.

He turns his attention to the pantry, and your pulse picks at the memory it conjures. “Pasta?” He holds up a box of angel hair, shaking it around invitingly. “I could whip up some butter and herbs, get you drunk on carbs.”

“Seriously, whatever you want is fine. Order a pizza for all I care.”

True to his predictions, Lily remained at the Kiszka homestead, and was half asleep in Jake’s arms by the time the two of you took your leave. And now here you sit, aching to blurt out question after question while he forages in his kitchen to put together a meal you couldn’t care less about.

“Alright,” he nods, and back to the fridge he goes, finally turning to face you bearing an untouched container of his beloved veggie sushi rolls. “Pretties for the thief?”

“It was one damn piece, Joshua.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his ridiculous name calling.

“Grab a white and a couple glasses,” he nods over at the wine rack.

You do as instructed, and join him where he has settled in the living room, placing the stemware carefully on the coffee table before uncorking the bottle of reisling you selected. It should be chilled, but neither of you have ever cared much to begin with.

On his elegant end, he loudly wrenches open the plastic container and slides it over unceremoniously.

Without cheers, he tips his glass and then shrugs, “Okay, sweetheart, this is the story of myself, my Lily, and my idiot brother…”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @jakesgrapejuice @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[luthienne]

what do you do for a living? (/job?) I am currently in a crisis and need some guidance. I look up to you a lot, I love your blog, we have the same passions for poetry and writing and music, even daredevil! My crisis is that I dont know what to do. In university I take classes but I dont know what I want to be. My art and writing feel pointless sometimes. All the jobs i want to do I know im not skilled enough to achieve or itd be very hard to get by. If you dont mind giving out advice... please help! ❤

hi anon <3 i think that figuring out what we're supposed to do for a living often gets tied to the idea that we're supposed to find that one niche in the world where we fit, where we're meant to be and where we're meant to contribute; where we're meant to shine, and find deep meaning in our own lives. and maybe that does happen for some people. but in reality i think we're all capable of doing many different things, and finding purpose in many different things. and in working toward many different skillsets we acquire different skillsets that apply to many other types of work.

and i don't think anything is ever set in stone. i got my undergrad & grad degrees in music, and then i found that i didn't have it in me to be a part of that world anymore. and i felt that i had no meaning in my life without it. i was No One without music, i had no identity outside of my voice—despite the deep sense of purpose and fate, even, that i felt for my life up until that moment in music, in singing, in acting. up until that moment i knew in my bones my purpose in life. and then the ground was swept out from under me. it didn't matter that i had known with certainty what my life was supposed to be because it wasn't that any longer. and i realized that i could never again tie my identity to my art, to my music, to my writing, to my job. my voice has a purpose not because it must be enough to sustain me financially or because enough people have validated my talent but because it brings me joy. i came back to music because singing brought me joy again; i thought i would never feel that again.

something i have learned through this is 1) music, like most other art forms, is not a meritocracy; there is no such thing as "you are an excellent [artist/singer/writer] and therefore you will have the career owed to you" because so much more than merit and hard work go into careers like this. it takes not only talent and work ethic but circumstance and luck and wealth. lessons cost money, coachings costs money, auditions cost money, applications cost money, travel costs money, wardrobe costs money. 2) the process is not the career. i love to practice, i love to learn music, i love to get into character, and to engage with my colleagues in rehearsal rooms and onstage. i don't love the abuse thrown at singers from directors and teachers and coaches, i don't love auditions, i don’t love the unpredictability of gig work and contract work, i don't love the expendable lens through which singers are viewed by the industry. i've come back to music but my goals have shifted.

all that to say, i don't think we have to know what we want to be. we don't have to want to be anything. our lives have deep meaning whether we have "successful" careers or careers that just pay the bills while we continue to pursue our creative loves. i wouldn't place too much importance on needing to find what you are supposed to be because you will become who you are supposed to be regardless. it is never a waste to pursue something we love, and we will acquire and internalize new skills in any field that we can apply to other fields. and maybe your interests will dramatically shift, or maybe not. i think it's very natural to have vocational shifts throughout our lives, and it's not indicative of failure. art that is made personally or professionally doesn't have more or less value based on its financial profit. the money i make from singing isn't enough to sustain me—i have to do other self-employment gigs to make up the difference. most artists do. but i don't regret the time and the heart i have invested in music, and i am sustained through the work i put into it, and sustained by the relationships and friendships that i have developed through it.

i send you my whole heart. i know how it feels to look at the future and not know what you're supposed to do with your one, precious life. sometimes we have to live in the uncertainty and know that it won't be like that forever. on the flip side, the moments of certainty won't last forever either. and in-between there is all the living we do. i promise you're not alone in this <3

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing IV

Master list here (includes chapter links, bios, and summary)

Warnings: restraints, blood, injury, explosion, amputation, shrapnel, bleeding out, unconsciousness, guilt, hurt/aftermath

It was another month before Halle’s healing abilities were tested. Thomas had taken Dylan and a team of twelve on a super secret mission—not even Livia had any idea even though she was likely to be promoted to team leader of another team in a matter of months.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. They’ve only been gone two hours. Nothing can go wrong in two hours. They’re supposed to be gone a week, it’s probably only a reconnaissance mission.”

“Then why take Dylan?” Halle clutched the book Benjamin had dropped for her to her chest—another one of Dylan’s recommendations.

Livia sighed. “Dylan has many skills at his disposal. Not all are offensive.”

“What does he—“

“It’s need to know, Halle. And I’m sorry, but it’s not something you need to know. Yet. I know you’ve been training for field work. As soon as there’s an opening on the team, I’m sure they’ll promote you. We could really use someone with more medical knowledge out on missions.”

“And a keeper for Dylan. So the rest of you can focus on whatever it is you do.”

Livia nodded. “Exactly! I’m sure there will be an opening soon.”

Halle was ready to head back to her room and curl up with the book when an alarm sounded. “What is that?”

Livia’s face paled. “No. It can’t be.”

“What?”

But before Livia could answer, Dylan appeared out of thin air, dragging Julian. Julian was missing his left leg from the knee down and he slumped over in Dylan’s arms. “Help,” Dylan said urgently. And before anyone could say anything, Dylan disappeared again.

“MEDIC!” Livia roared.

Livia’s words were enough to spur Halle into action. Halle pulled her belt off, quickly making a tourniquet on Julian’s stump. “Go to the med bay. Get as many healers as you can. Livia, are you hearing me?” Livia’s eyes were wide with shock, her mouth open. She made no movement or gave any inclination that she heard Halle. “Livia!” Livia nodded. “Send for as many healers that the other teams can spare. Ask for supplies. Go. Now!”

Livia hurried away just as Dylan appeared again. “What happened?”

Dylan grunted as he hauled another unconscious teammate. “Ambush. We got caught up in an explosion.”

Before Halle could ask Dylan any further questions, he disappeared. Halle was soon too busy to notice Dylan flit in and out. With each subsequent team member Dylan dropped off, Halle became busier and busier. She directed other healers to triage the team members. The one consolation Halle had as she worked to try and keep the team members alive was that at least Dylan appeared unhurt.

Halle had managed to get all the patients transported to the main med bay. She knew that Dylan would figure out where to bring the others because clearly Dylan had teleported to her specifically. All twenty team members with varying injuries were being treated in the med bay. Which just left Thomas and Dylan remaining.

“He really, really needs help,” Dylan murmured softly as he appeared just behind Halle. Thomas leaned heavily on Dylan. Blood coated Thomas’s face and Halle wasn’t sure what the extent of his injuries were.

“Thomas!” Halle hurried forward. She could see Thomas’s lips moving, but Halle couldn’t hear. “Hold on, Thomas, just a moment.”

Dylan froze as Thomas jerked suddenly, clapping the silver cuff on Dylan’s wrist, its mate appearing suddenly on Dylan’s other wrist. Dylan staggered, dropping Thomas. “HELP!” Halle roared.

What had happened? Dylan was fine a moment ago. Dylan dropped to one knee as he mumbled, “Fuck.” Dylan caught himself from falling forward with a blood coated arm.

“Where are you hurt?” Halle turned her attention to Dylan completely. Her job was to keep Dylan alive. And only Dylan. The other healers could take care of Thomas. She had one job and one job only.

“I….I would have thought this….changed things. I…I seem to n-n-never learrrrn,” Dylan said breathlessly as he struggled to remain upright.

“Dylan, where are you hurt?” Halle said as she took Dylan’s face in her hands. His face was filthy, but unbloodied. Where was all the blood coming from? Dylan’s icy blue eyes were hazy and unfocused.

“Dylan, what happened? Where are you hurt?”

“Lonely….lonely place…of..longing…..where…where I belong.” Halle’s heart quickened. Clearly he had a head injury with the nonsense he was mumbling. She had to work fast.

Halle quickly began to run her hands along Dylan’s hair. His neck. His back. Halle’s mouth went dry when Dylan flinched as Halle’s fingers were quickly soaked with blood as she touched Dylan’s upper back.

“Please….it hurts…..no more. Pl-Please…..no more.”

Halle tried to drag Dylan to an exam table, struggling with Dylan’s weight. He didn’t seem so large standing next to Thomas, but as Halle struggled to move Dylan, she realized Dylan was heavier and taller than she originally thought. Dylan was lean, but he was all muscle.

Halle cried out her frustration as healers and other team members flitted past her, not bothering to try and help. She couldn’t help Dylan like this. “You,” Halle said to the closest team member from Bravo team. The man looked confused. “Yeah, you. I need you to help me get him to the other med bay. Now.”

“Are you sure?” He looked nervous as he spoke. “You don’t think he could—“

“He is going to bleed out on this floor unless I can treat him. And I can’t treat him here if none of you will help. So move. NOW!”

The Bravo team member did as Halle ordered, moving quickly so as to minimize his contact with Dylan. Dylan moaned with pain as he was dragged down the hall. Halle tried not to think of the trail of blood he was leaving behind. “Please….no more.”

“Hold on, Dylan. Hold on. Nearly there,” Halle said as she opened Dylan’s door. She pushed through and shoved everything off the nearest exam table. “Lay him here, on his stomach,” Halle ordered as she began to put all the gauze she could carry in her arms.

Dylan moaned softly as he was dumped onto the table none to gently. Halle glared at the retreating back of the Bravo team member. She didn’t have time to chase after him. “Hold on, Dylan. Hold on.”

Halle inhaled sharply as she could see Dylan’s back. There were so many pieces of shrapnel embedded beneath Dylan’s skin, Halle had no idea how Dylan survived the blast.

“It hurtssss…..alone……p-p-painfulllll. Pl-Pl-Please, nnnnnno-o-o-o-o mmmmmore,” Dylan whimpered softly. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he spoke.

Dylan’s words were so full of sadness. “You’ll be ok, you’ll be ok. I’m going to take care of you,” Halle murmured as she watched Dylan’s eyes flutter closed once more.

“That’s probably for the best, Dylan,” Halle said as she quickly cut away what remained of his shirt. She began the slow, painful process of extracting all the shrapnel and stitching Dylan’s wounds closed. “This is going to hurt a lot.”

It was a miracle Dylan had been alive and walking with the number of large pieces of shrapnel embedded deep in his back. How had Dylan been—what Halle guessed was—teleporting with so many passengers when he should have been unconscious? How had Dylan not seemed to feel pain or suffer from his injuries until Thomas re-cuffed him? Why had Thomas re-cuffed him so quickly? He was just trying to help. He hadn’t made any effort to escape. Or to hurt anyone. If anything, he saved the team.

It was with a pang of sadness that Halle realized what Dylan had been talking about. Dylan wasn’t talking about the shrapnel, or the fact that he was bleeding to death. No, Dylan was talking about what really hurt him: that he was lonely. No one treated Dylan with care or kindness. Dylan, as far as Halle was aware, was completely socially isolated, hated even. Halle made a promise as she worked that she wouldn’t let Dylan suffer in silence any more. Dylan couldn’t help what he was.

From everything Halle understood about Dylan, Dylan had only tried to help the team. Had never tired to break free. Had never tried to hurt a team member. And yet he was kept in a cage unless he was being used as the living weapon he was.

“I’ll be your friend. It seems like you could really use a friend, Dylan,” Halle whispered to Dylan as she bandaged the last of Dylan’s wounds. Dylan still hadn’t woken, but Halle hadn’t expected him to. Halle had started IV antibiotics, fluids, painkillers, and had given Dylan a transfusion. She didn’t expect Dylan to wake for some hours yet. But as she settled into a chair next to Dylan, Halle made a promise that Dylan wouldn’t wake alone, that she would be there. That she would always be there for Dylan.

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[whumpshaped]

prev @enigmawritesstuff

tw vampire whumper, self-sacrifice, intimate whumper

Something more. If the vampire wasn't lying, and they were about to be stripped of everything they own... then they didn't have anything more.

"Tick, tock, hunter. I'm leaving soon." It disappeared from Whumpee's sight, so quick that they had no chance of stopping it when it grabbed the stake they kept hidden under their cloak. Its breath was hot against their neck, and the anxiety kept them in place without any effort on the vampire's part. "I'm about to go hunting."

"You don't have to," was all they could come up with. "I– I'm right here, offering–"

"This is what you heroic, self-sacrificial humans fail to understand." It slipped the stake out of Whumpee's belt loop, throwing it across the enormous room. "You think everyone is like you. Suppose a deer came knocking on your door. 'Oh, kind sir, I'm here on behalf of all the creatures of the woods. I'm willing to die for you again and again to satisfy your hunger, but please, leave the rest of us alone.' Would you take the offer?"

"Yes!" they said emphatically, without hesitation.

"You see, others might miss the taste of rabbits. Cows. Pigs. It gets tiring, to kill the same captive deer over and over again. It gets boring. Stale. And what about the people hunting for sport? They'd miss the thrill."

Whumpee sucked in a breath. "Then I ask you to give me a chance. To prove that I can be interesting."

"And how would you do that, my little fawn?" The vampire sounded awfully amused, which was at least an indication that they were keeping its attention.

"You will give me back my stake, let me out into the woods, and I will give you the hunt of your life as many times as you want. And whenever you don't? I will sit still for you right here, in the comfort of your own home, and you can have me as your lazy meal."

"And how exactly would that differ from keeping you as my 'lazy meal' and hunting everyone else for sport?"

"Because you want to prove to me just how powerful you are." They finally found the strength to turn around and look up at it, staring into those red eyes with all the courage they had. "Because you want me to know that even if you give me advantages, even if you level out the playing field, you can catch me as many times as you want. Because you think I'm arrogant, and you want to let me go and hunt me down yourself. Because now you feel like it's a personal challenge, and no one has ever challenged you like this."

The vampire grinned, and Whumpee could already feel those sharp fangs piercing their neck. "Is that so?" It almost looked impressed, which Whumpee took as a good sign. "Very well. Grab your stake and run, hunter. Although I'm not sure that name fits you anymore."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[ameagrice]

Genesis

chapter two

summary: a grand plan your best friend devises turns on its head, leading the both of you to serious danger.

For as long as you could remember, all there was, was FEDRA.

And for as long as you could remember, there was Rudy Wilson. A funny boy with a mop of copper hair, always unkept and knotted, and despite his habit to get in trouble every other day at school, he was happy, and he was your best friend. You always had (and supposed you always would) do everything together, even if it got you into trouble.

Which, unfortunately for you, happened quite a lot.

“How many times do I have to tell you?l Fields sighed exhaustedly, tapping his hand on his desk at every word. “Do not follow in that boy’s footsteps. You’re digging your own grave.”

You blink up at the ceiling, and then out of the window, behind Lieutenant Fields and his mop of curly hair. He was fairly young, and fairly fond of you—something you weren’t sure you should be happy about. Extra attention never had been a priority.

His muffled words came into full focus when he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you listening to me right now?”

You snapped, face fierce. “Yes. And I don’t need a lecture.”

“Who would you rather? Me, or the old hag down the hall?” He leaned forward, and you caught the green in his eyes.

You didn’t answer him directly. “Come on. I didn’t do anything wrong. Can I just go?”

He paused, remaining quiet for a second. Then, “Get into a fight like that again because your little friend can’t take care of himself, and you’re out. You’ve had five warnings.” He paused, and eyed you carefully. “You’ve got potential. Buckets of it. Don’t waste it.

Now, get out of my office.”

A single bell rang all over the building, indicating the most anticipated time of the day: lunch time, at exactly twelve-forty. You swung open the office door, pulling it shut behind you. And, as you stepped out into the hallway, so did the troublemaker you called your best friend.

Directly in front of you, with scarlet cheeks and a sharp smile, stood Rudy Wilson, at attention.

“You got Fields,” he smirked. “Lucky.”

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for her,” you nodded at the door of the second most terrifying Lieutenant of FEDRA school.

Rudy shrugged, setting off down the hallway. Already the sound of other students yelling from floors below was getting louder.

“I love her to pieces,” Rudy sang, humming. He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Especially all those wrinkles.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Descending the next two floors, you landed on ground level, and promptly joined the lunch queue, forming against the walls of the gymnasium.

If you had known that day would be your last normal one with your best friend, you might have talked more. You might have cracked another joke at Rudy’s expense, or even thanked Lieutenant Fields for always letting you off lightly. But nobody ever really knows when the last day of something will arrive, and it’s only when the wheels are turning and time is ticking that you start to realise you ought to have done more.

Your alarm clock reads two-past midnight when Rudy’s shadow forms on the fire escape just beyond your dormitory window. You didn’t even miss the warmth of your bed, when it came to escapades with Rudy.

“I’ve got something to show you, later,” he explained through a mouth full of potato at lunch. You’d nodded, excited at the prospect of another secret outing.

You climbed out of bed, and reached under it for your best shoes: an old pair of green lace-ups, and your backpack. Without a blip, you descended the fire escape together.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” You asked, climbing slowly down the ladder.

He hummed dramatically. “Maybe.”

“Is it somewhere I’ve been before?” You glanced down, wondering. He simply shook his head.

“Surprisingly, no.”

That final night together, Rudy was dressed in faded jeans, almost grey in colour, a too-big black tee tucked into his too-small pants, and a black jacket. His copper hair had been pushed back from running his fingers through it so often, and his sharp face was alight with the glee of childish mischievousness.

Past piles of rubble, past mountains of ash you walked, remains of the fireflies’ failed attempts at overruling FEDRA. Some of the buildings were only partially blown up last night, some still crumbling from months ago, and you were forced to slow your sneaking lest you wanted the rubble to bring you down with it. The air smelled of fire and dirt, the stars way up there watching two teens enjoy the beginning of their last night together. Rudy led the way, crouching behind buildings and signs when lights in the lookout towers came too close for comfort.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination.

Sceptically, you eyed the large, domed building. It was bathed in darkness, the outline barely visible in the dimmed light of street lamps.

“The mall?” You raised a brow. Rudy’s spindly figure, walking ahead, turned in a swift spin, grinning. “But…you know what’s in there, right?”

“I know what isn’t in there, more like. Now hurry up; we’re on a tight schedule.”

You followed after him promptly. “You're tellin’ me. You do know I have to be up in three hours for drill, right? I know you have the luxury of not having to be a part of that these days, but some of us haven’t been recruited by the fireflies.”

He waved his hand at you, unbothered. “Pffft. I do far more exciting things than drills with the fireflies.”

“Like what? Shooting people?”

“Hey,” he elbowed you. “You’ll be shooting people too, soon.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. “Yeah, but for good reason.”

Rudy groaned loudly. “Jesus, you do far too much kissing FEDRA’s ass.”

“Shut up and lead the way, you terrorist.”

Rudy made a start by climbing a well-established path up to the roof, using mismatched ladder parts and old boxes. His fluid movements told you, he’d been here before.

“For somewhere that’s full of infected, it’s sure lacking security,” you commented, looking up. Rudy, agile as a spider and already halfway up a bit of roof, jammed his foot against a hold and lowered his hands to help you up. His sharp smile appeared, canines slightly longer than the rest of his smile.

“Like I said before,” his deepening voice, not quite there yet, rang loudly in the dead of night. “It’s not full of infected. In fact, it never was. I’ve been working on your birthday surprise for months now, amongst other things. Lemme tell you; we’re very safe here.”

“Famous last words,” you jumped your brows. He imitated your words, sticking out his tongue.

Up the roof you went, growing ever more nervous. The night was cooler than the day—so warm today, in fact, that it thundered all afternoon. September’s cooler climate was fast approaching, thank goodness. Your hands slipped a little bit, making your way up. Thoughts ran amok. Sure, Rudy said it was safe, but how could he know for certain? The thrill of doing something new began to overtake the sense of anxiety, however, and you didn’t contemplate the infected for long.

You crouched beside Rudy, whose eyes narrowed into the dark below, searching. Water from this afternoon’s rain slipped through a gap in the roof, spattering and echoing across something down below in the dark.

“Right,” Rudy cleared his throat, grabbing your arm forcefully. “Down you go.”

Without warning, he pushed you over the edge, down the hole. You screamed, heart falling to your stomach, but you didn’t fall far. Instead of landing on concrete, you…bounced?

An old mattress cushioned your fall. Above, Rudy laughed.

Safe to say, you chewed his ear off when he landed, too.

Inside, everything had rotted. From the mattress you landed on, to the metal stairs Rudy told you to ascend; all slimy, all gross. Your ears honed in on the small sounds, listening for signs of infected;

Nothing.

“Okay,” Rudy shrugged his pack up his back. “It’s just up these stairs. But first I gotta…”

Halfway up the staircase, he reached up for a corroded metal box, nimble fingers twisting a small latch until the door swung. Inside sat a set of switches, none labelled. This didn’t matter to Rudy, who flicked them all down. You expected some sort of commotion—but nothing in the air changed.

“Oh, no way!” He had flicked a switch, and waved his hand. A sign above the door—albeit a bit rotted—came to life in vivid red. “But how?”

“Did you see those blocks of buildings earlier, on the roof?” You nodded. “Marlene told me FEDRA is starting to open them up. More people are coming into the QZ, so they need more housing. They obviously need lighting, so when they connected them up to the mains, they connected this place, too. Who knows if they meant to do it—I’m just glad they did. Makes for a great birthday present.”

You nodded along, in wonder and wondering. “But—if the lights are on, won’t somebody see? They’ll know we’re here.”

“How will they?” He scoffed. Rudy led the way up to a set of double doors. Old, yellowed stickers remained set across them: TEAM MEMBERS ONLY. “You saw this place from the outside. It’s one big, blacked out dome. People think it’s full of infected, civvies won’t come this far, and FEDRA don’t know a thing about it being connected to the mains. We’ll be alright.”

You trusted Rudy. Really, you did. In all of your shenanigans, Rudy was the instigator. Something about this huge, quiet mall sat your nerves on edge, however. You’d wandered to the old park on the far side of the QZ, and walked the streets at all hours of the night, but the sheer size of the mall, stepping inside, made you feel uneasy.

Despite this, it was also amazing.

Neon colours and bright lights illuminated the vast space. The stores themselves had long since been abandoned, rummaged through and almost destroyed. What seemed to be fake plants here and there provided a sense of life you didn’t often feel in the zone. You tried to picture the stores full, the place clean and busy.

Some stores, like Jane Norman, and Victoria’s Secret, still displayed clothes and shoes, and for some reason hadn’t been looted as well as the others, which were empty, storefront signs flickering, half-lit.

“Wait for it,” Rudy said, out of the blue. You frowned. Wait for what?

All of a sudden, music began playing quietly all over the mall, a little crackly but there. An upbeat song you’d never heard before, but loved instantly. The lights, the music, the stores…it was one thing to read old books where the characters went shopping, or had a girls trip. But to actually set food inside of the setting (albeit, very different from how they were originally written), was a strange feeling.

Your head snapped to Rudy. You were all smiles, and Rudy shoved you.

“Knew you’d like it,” he coyly brushed you off. “Come on! There’s something even better this way.”

The ‘something even better’ happened to be an escalator. You’d read about these moving staircases in books, but actually standing on one? Whole. Different. Experience.

“Hey!” Rudy called, laughing. “Look at me!” His long legs marched backwards on the escalator, which was rolling down to the floor below. Rudy remained in place, as if he were marching on air. You couldn’t help but laugh, and make your way down to the next floor by sliding down the escalator rails.

This floor had been used for restaurants and smaller stores. Rudy plumed ahead, nattering on about needing new shoes. You took your time exploring a bookstore. Some of them had rotted, full of brown mould, and were tipped face-down, pages bent. But the ones you saved, you shoved in your backpack. Only two, but more than you’d held in a while.

“I feel bad,” you told Rudy, kneeling, zipping up your backpack of new books.

He pocketed something you didn’t see. “Nobody’s gonna know. Like, ever. Take what you want. It’s your birthday.”

“I’m gonna use that explanation for the rest of my life,” you raised a brow. “It’s my birthday. Stealing is acceptable and excused.”

A plastic water bottle. A pair of socks. Books, jeans, and a sweater. Your shoulders ached with the weight in your pack.

Rudy had been quiet for a while, allowing you to explore. Now, he smiled excitedly, buzzing in place.

“And now, the finale,” he proclaimed dramatically, waving his arms. “This way, madam.”

You walked another floor. This far away, the music playing was almost inaudible.

At the end of the hallway, Rudy proudly beamed.

“Welcome to the carousel,” Rudy waved his hand. “Right this way, your ladyship.”

“No. Fucking. Way. Dude!”

All smiles, you approached the glowing amusement, shining in the dark. Horses painted with sashes of every colour sat at varying heights, lights reflecting in the mirrors.

“Your horse awaits.” Rudy climbed up onto the ride, pushing open the small door in the centre of it. He whacked something a few times, and the ride began to move, going around slowly. You hurried to join him.

“I’m afraid this is the final amusement,” he proclaimed dramatically, rolling his eyes. You couldn’t help giggling at him. “However, we have been here for two hours, and you have to be up for drill in thirty minutes. So!” He clapped his hands, and climbed the horse beside yours.

Music from so long ago, sweet and lyricless, played softly as the carousel turned. Your horses moved with the music, up and down gently. You closed your eyes, remembering this feeling of utter calm. Rudy at your side, the cold of the pole you held, and the jingling, old-worldly music. The warmth of the evening, and the knowledge that the two of you were completely alone.

The sudden jolt of the carousel almost sent you careening off your horse. Rudy exclaimed, and the carousel slowed to a stop, the music falling short. Rudy groaned, sliding of his horse.

“Awh, come on!”

A few whacks of the console later, the ride was done. Rudy came out sheepishly, shrugging. “I think we broke it.”

Despite the ride’s end, you couldn’t help smiling, climbing down. “I think you broke it. I’m not sure you’re supposed to hit electricals.”

“Whatever, loser. Wanna get going?”

As much as you enjoyed your night looting and exploring, you did need to get going. “Sure. Although I don’t appreciate having to do drill on no sleep.”

He scoffed, and then quietened. “But, did you enjoy your birthday surprise?”

He’d never admit that he was conscious of his actions. That wasn’t Rudy.

“Yeah,” you said. “Thank you, Rudy.”

You walked back the way you came. A couple of times, you thought you heard crashing, but when you mentioned this to Rudy, he shook his head.

“Just the ride breaking down,” he waved it off. “Let’s just get out of here.”

For somebody who swore the mall was safe, Rudy appeared to be on edge. He kept looking back after every noise, prompting you to walk faster.

“You’re gonna miss drill,” was his excuse.

The final time, you couldn’t deny the noise. Clicking, and groaning. An inhuman noise from just down the mall. Growing louder.

You blinked at him, fearfully. For a second, you swear your heart stopped.

Rudy had grown pale. His brown eyes looked black in his very white face. He gulped. “Don’t panic. We’re fine. We’re—”

It had been closer than you both thought it was. Out of the shadows, something snarled, and it burst forth, running at you with unnatural speed. It’s head was split open by the fungus you’d only seen pictures of, and it was more horrifying in person. Dried blood stuck to its clothes, and dribbled from its mouth. It shrieked and screeched as it stumbled towards you, and in a frantic hurry, you screamed.

Rudy snatched up your arm and yanked you along desperately. “Don’t try to fight it! Fucking run! Go!”

Your voices echoed, the sound of the infected screaming echoing with you. Your heart pumped viciously, throat and chest burning with exertion. FEDRA school provided the basics in saving your hide—doing the real thing happened to be much, much harder. You grasped your switchblade from your pocket, flipping it open.

The Infected caught your hair. Yanked you down.

Your chin smacked the floor, and pain radiated through your face. The deafening shriek it let out rang in your ears as harsh blows from its erratic hands pounded your head. All you could do was try to crawl away.

Rudy yelled, another weight added to the mix. You were released momentarily. You looked up; your switchblade lay halfway across from where you lay, breathing deeply. A little away from you, a sharp knife stuck out of the Infected’s neck, blood leaking out. Rudy fought with all his might, kicking, punching. You found your feet, trying to hurry and save Rudy, but it was like you were stuck in jelly, everything felt weird. Rudy howled in pain, the Infected screamed, and your knife lay in your hand once again.

With a strange determination, you ran over, grabbed the Infected by the shirt, and drove your blade into it with a fury that frightened you. Again and again, until it grew quiet and motionless.

All was quiet. The scuffle of your shoes, rounding the dead Infected, felt jarring.

Rudy was breathless. You were breathless.

“Oh shit. Holy fuck.”

Pure shock. Adrenaline ran through your veins, and your whole body shook. Rudy’s eyes didn’t meet your eyes. His whole face fell.

On the floor, they rested midway. You slowed down, and directed your eyes in the direction his were.

There, on your wrist, lay a bleeding wound in the shape of teeth. The sight made you woozy, forcing you to sit down before you fell down.

The despair hit quickly. “Oh, not today. Not my birthday.”

Rudy huffed a tearful laugh. “Any other day is fine?”

You wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt and walk out of here to the parade yard. Truthfully, the bite really fucking hurt. If you didn’t wrap it up soon, you’d bleed more than you liked.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Rudy took a minute. Then he pulled up the too-big jacket, and revealed a similar bite on his wrist. The bone looked swollen and bruised, and bled profusely.

You moved over to your best friend, and together you warmed up, still shaking.

“I don’t want to be like that. I don’t—” he choked tearfully, dark eyes on the Infected. “I don’t want to be like that. End it. I’ll do the same. For you.”

As if Rudy predicted it, he declined first. The twitching a half hour or so after the accident. By now, your classmates would be asking around for you. Not long after the twitching did Rudy cry in pain. You couldn’t do it then.

Only when there was no sign of Rudy left, that was when you got on with it.

You really didn’t want to think about what would happen to you. Or rather, what wasn’t happening.

Hours passed, you’d stopped the bleeding, but nothing more had occurred. The skin around the bite had bruised, and turned puffy, but…you hadn’t changed. And it was well past the change time. So what the hell happened?

You decided to move. You couldn’t sit any longer with Rudy’s body, especially now there was a chance there was more than one Infected.

You shared a final look with Rudy, eyes closed like he was just fast asleep.

They caught you on your way out—Fireflies.

—

CHAPTER THREE

[lifeoflunar-blog]

my scrambled thoughts on TUA szn 4

(i wrote this in august as soon as it came out and it got lost in my endless sea of drafts) (if anyone still cares about this shows ending)

Alright guys, strap in, because I have thoughts.

I can't believe that's how they decide to end the entire show, with a season that leaves more unanswered questions than answered ones. I have TOO many thoughts on the entire season, and how so much of it essentially ruined the entire show.

First off, I understand that the characters were going to be coming into this season unbalanced and lost, considering they were all without powers and trying to create lives for themselves after being forced to constantly save the world over and over again. That would cause anyone to lose their minds a little bit and act out of character/ selfishly.

But Five....oh my GOD.

Listen. I know that people put a character like Five on a pedestal and kinda immortalize him because of the type of person he is. He's labelled as a cold hearted assassin whose soft protective side comes out only when trying to save his family. I get that people label him as aro/ace (which can make sense I suppose). But here's the thing. I don't think it was gross for Five to fall in love. I believe Five is fully capable of falling in love. I DO think, however, that #1: that the way they went about it was unnecessary, and #2: there were so many other ways to expand his character and show his softer and more vulnerable side!!!

When I first watched season 4 (binged it as soon as it dropped even though i tried very hard to not ITS ONLY 6 EPISODES CMON), I didn't...hate the whole Five x Lila thing (LISTEN SPARE ME PLEASE). On paper, these two characters are very alike and it's not completely far fetched for them to pair up. They were both trained assassin's and understood each other's trauma. When they stopped hating each other, they actually confided in one another and became a great duo. Granted, the duo was very much sibling or cousin-y, but still. I feel like if Aiden was older during season 2 and 3, and if he was stuck inside an adult body instead of,,,uh,,,A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD???? it would've been in the cards for the two to eventually get together. But here's the thing, it came so out of left field. The way the dynamic was due to the actors ages and appearances in the previous seasons, it was just not even a thought that crossed anyones mind (unless ur sick in the head). It kinda ruined the prior seasons for me because now I see them interact in those and I get a gross feeling, like oh they're bickering like siblings but wait....they end up getting nasty....IDK. I get the whole enemies to lovers, but you can't establish an iconic sibling pairing and then just make them do...that.

Note to the writers, people want a slow burn. We wanna see the process, the little things that lead to a relationship between two people. Even in the first few episodes they had Five and Lila together but it didn't feel like anything romantic was happening. It was just so sudden.

Here's the thing. The only reason I liked Five and Lila together was because of how Five was during the subway era. He really did get his retirement storyline, he had someone to take care of and he got to live this soft life, even if it was incredible short lived and also only due to proximity. I only wish that if they HAD to give Five a romantic story line that it wasn't fake, that it was actual real love that could happen. Also, as soon as episode 5 happened and Five and Lila kissed, I knew that the show couldn't have ended in a way where they all survived. I knew that that was the moment the writers decide to let them all go to shit, because there was truly no coming back from that.

I just think that they relied too heavily on montages to tell the passage of time to explain their behaviour, because that's kinda the only way you can defend how the characters acted. They just tried to fit too much content into 6 little episodes and it just became confusing. Even in the first episode, I wanted to see the characters adapt to their new surroundings, not just 6 years later when the next tragic thing occurs.

A storyline I wish we got to see with Five was him having a breakdown and not being able to handle the pressure of always fixing things, and having his siblings come to support him emotionally and allow for him to open up. I really wanted Five to open up about his trauma, and that could've been a great way for him to express that softer emotional side of him.

Here's the thing. People saying that it was so far fetched for him to fall in love is something I have to disagree with. I agree that they didn't need to include it, but it wasn't something out of character for him. TBH, I know his motivation is his family, but I don't think he would've survived his original apocalypse has he not had Dolores. That guy is a romantic through and through, and 100% has the capacity to fall in love. Not even that, he definitely deserved to fall in love. I just don't know if it was with his brother's wife.

Now, going back to the putting-Five-on-a-pedesal-thing, I do believe that Five finding happiness and love with Lila in the greenhouse timeline was more or less valid. Like, the guys been through so much, I think Five finding love in an unethical way doesn't mean that he's some horrible disgusting character. I'm more focused on Five's feelings than the repercussions his actions hold, if that make's sense. Of course it's devastating to see Diego find out, but still, Five got to experience love for the first time. And man oh man is he adorable when he's in love. The way he spoke to Lila with such softness even when they were fighting, the way he took care of her, THE BRACELET :((((, and to be so honest with y'all when they went back and they were all sitting in the living room, Five looking beyond angry and jealous truly did something to me. Maybe I'm just toxic....lmao.

(also side note I wanted to mention, I feel like the whole reason Diego and Lila worked is because Diego was the level headed one in the relationship. Detective Patch and Diego didn't work because (well she died but ALSO) he was the irrational one in that pairing. Patch saw him as crazy and immature. But with Lila, Diego grew into his protective and masculine side).

Overall, I think Five was acting selfish and self serving, something we haven’t really seen from him in the past seasons. He was prioritizing himself and his “relationship” with Lila when I know for a fact he never would’ve done that before this season. It just shows that he’d given up, which makes me so sad. He didn’t care about saving the world, he didn’t even really care about his siblings in the end. It makes me upset because you can visibly see the hope leave him as soon as he sits on the sofa with everyone and sees Lila with Diego, I feel like that was really his last straw. (Hey man I get it, first loves are tricky but come ON).

As for the ending, I was left truly unsatisfied and disappointed. For a family that had gone through so much together, they really just,,,ceased to exist. It would’ve been better if they died after a satisfying season of being there for each other and supporting one another and having heart to hearts but they didn’t. They all went on separate side quests and came back to die. There were too many other options and plot holes for me to even consider this ending they gave us.

This is not to say that I think this season was a waste. I really did enjoy the first few episodes, as they progressed it just started getting more confusing and they started adding unnecessary content. I loved the road trip aspect, and I have to give kudos to Aidan Gallagher, this was HIS season. His acting was truly one of the best performances I’ve seen, especially since his character is probably the trickiest one to play. I liked that this season got to show his range as an actor, seeing him be soft and sweet was honestly a nice change from his normal sassy self.

AnyWAYS the way I'm rereading this moths later and I still feel as strongly as I did in August sitting under the covers at 2am with my laptop screen being my only source of light as my heart dropped to my ass hearing "On the 12th hour of the 8th day of August 2024, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened" and realizing the show is truly over and we'll never get more content with the siblings.

i a m f i n e : )

[n7cloacadestroyer]

Very true. I also have doubts that the thorian that Shepard fights on Feros is well and truly dead. Shiala and ExoGeni's recovery team are the only sources we have that confirm its apparent demise. ExoGeni has a vested interest (as well as a demonstrated willingness) to lie. They were willing to purge the colony to protect their secrets and probably would have if Shepard hadn't intervened. So we know that we can't trust them.

Shiala, on the other hand, seems trustworthy at first. She's vital to the plot of ME1, as the prothean cipher would be lost to Shepard after the thorian's supposed death had she not intervened. She wishes to stay with the colonists to atone for their suffering which she feels responsible for. Even if you take the renegade option to kill her, it still reflects well on her character.

But something we often overlook is that she was definitely indoctrinated by Sovereign, following Matriarch Benezia to join Saren. A reminder that Matriarch Benezia was so far gone that she couldn't stop herself from trying to murder her own daughter. Sovereign probably couldn't have exerted any more control over her without turning her brain into pudding.

Indoctrination is stated to be a degenerative condition by multiple characters throughout the series, but we hear about it first from Rana Thanoptis, who was studying the phenomenon at Saren's base on Virmire. We learn that Sovereign (and later, all reapers) emit a kind of energy field undetectable by contemporary technology that subtly alters brain waves and thought patterns, making organic minds more susceptible to suggestion by slowly removing the capacity for independent thought.

If we take the narrative at face value, Shiala remains the only character in the entirety of the Mass Effect series that has experienced any degree of remission in their level of reaper indoctrination. This isn't extremely suspicious on its own within the context of Mass Effect 1, but given what we learn about it going forward? Gigantic red flag.

It's also worth noting that Saren offers Shiala to the thorian in exchange for the cipher, a fate she willingly accepts as an indoctrinated slave. Saren then betrays the thorian, as he has a reputation for. No surprise there. What is surprising is his apparent lack of target priority.

If Saren/Sovereign wanted to breach the colony to destroy the main thorian node beneath it, why didn't they just bombard it from orbit? Instead, they send the geth to attack the humans in the colony and the nearby ExoGeni building. "Killing the flesh that would tend the next cycle," as the thorian says.

There is another creature within the Mass Effect continuity that reproduces via spores--the Thresher Maw. That's the reason we find them on so many different worlds in-game. Their microscopic spores are hardy enough to survive dormant within the vacuum of deep space and atmospheric reentry, so they are unwittingly spread by space travelers, both past and contemporary.

What if Saren was cutting off the thorian's vectors of propagation without directly attacking it? Because large-scale disturbances like bombardment risk throwing its spores into the atmosphere or worse--into orbit where it could cling to passing vessels along with other bits of magnetized space dust.

I also suspect that the geth platforms on Feros were so entrenched because they were never intended to leave. If the thorian's influence can indeed overpower reaper indoctrination, as it seems to be doing with Shiala, the machines have a very good reason to be concerned and act accordingly. They seemingly intend to starve it out/quarantine it--a smart move, all things considered. Especially if my suspicions are correct.

We meet Shiala again on Illium in Mass Effect 2. Her skin has turned green, and she seems fatigued, to put it mildly. We learn that the colonists continue to experience strange side effects and rudimentary linked nerve signals, even sharing sensations like heat and pain when near one another. In addition, they experience headaches and muscle spasms similar to when they were under thorian control seemingly at random. She also notes that her biotics have become 'unstable'.

The colonists contacted a Baria Frontiers survey group to perform some medical scans to diagnose and resolve their chronic issues and were offered a contract to get them for next to nothing. The problem was that they had unknowingly agreed to "invasive follow-up procedures" at the company's behest. With enough charm or intimidate points, Shepard can help Shiala by convincing the Baria Frontiers rep to revise the contract.

Now we're led to believe that these procedures are being forced on the colonists simply because an uncharacteristically racist asari just wants to see them suffer… but what if the initial scans showed some kind of anomaly? If there are parasitic spores within their bodies controlling (or at least influencing) their minds, discovery of this fact would certainly spell doom for the parasite in question. So would it not be in the parasite's best interest to avoid anyone looking at the colonists too closely?

Furthermore, it's strange that the symptoms result in biotic instability for Shiala, an asari commando who has been training her biotic abilities for at least a few hundred years. Unless the thorian spores have begun to sprout and grow throughout her central and periphery nervous systems, thereby disrupting/altering the path that nerve signals must take to reach the eezo nodules in her nerves?

In Mass Effect 3, we meet her on the Citadel presidium after the evacuation of Zhu's Hope. She confirms that she is indeed indoctrinated, but says that her connection to the colonists through the residual thorian spores "is louder" than the tell-tale whispers. She and the colonists have seemingly adapted to the presence of the thorian spores and can now "feel" one another, and "act with one mind" as they fight against the reapers, "ignoring pain when the need arises." They can share some degree of learned experience as well, as Shiala further elaborates, "with one mind, the untrained fight with the skill of veteran commandos."

She's also, notably, still green. So it seems like the colonists just abandoned the whole "let's get medical care" idea and just learned to live with their new hivemind? Yeah, that's extremely suspicious given everything we know about the thorian.

Conclusion: Shiala and the colonists are simply an extension of the thorian, and this is how the creature propagates itself. Feros was not the Thorian's home world, and it was likely carried there by the protheans or a space-faring civilization that predated them as spores within their bodies. When they die, their bodies will be consumed by the spores within them and begin a new "cycle" for the thorian. (got to thinking about this reply from @dragonflight203, but it got a little too big for the reply box.)

[dr-futbol-blog]

Instinct, Pt. 6

Beckett and Ronon have joined McKay and Teyla in the cave and the old man is watching Beckett set up his equipment with keen interest. They seem to be at a medieval level of technology on the planet and hence have no concept of what a laptop might be. McKay still has his arms folded, still seems to be in silent judgement of all of this. But given that he has more experience being out on the field than Beckett, he does seem to be looking out for his friend, watching his back. And not only does he have his back, Beckett also seems to expect McKay to have it for him.

Zaddik: This equipment's remarkable! Where did you get it? Beckett: Oh, here and there.

Where McKay is a very good liar Beckett seems to be less skilled in this, and hence knowing that he cannot reveal where they come from and where their technology is based, he opts to ignore the question instead. If he cared at all, McKay probably would be able to lie better but he does not seem to be listening, keeping his attention on the wraith instead.

Beckett: Let's start by analyzing that drug of yours, shall we? Zaddik: Oh, yes. Of course.

McKay is not comfortable with having the wraith walk behind his back, trying to keep an eye on it at all times but be subtle about his dislike of the girl. The wraith seems to have concocted a drink of some kind, and given that McKay and Teyla were watching them working on a plant that they explicitly said to contain toxins earlier, McKay is understandably suspicious of the drink.

Ellia: Would you like some tea? Zaddik: Oh, thank you. McKay: Oh, no. Beckett: Oh, no thank you.

Where Beckett declines the drink excusing himself with being preoccupied setting up the equipment, McKay has a mug placed right into his hand and so he has to take it. Written down like that, the dialogue makes it seem like Beckett combines what the other two men say but McKay does not really say "Oh, no," he mumbles something incoherent because he does not know how to react to this, he only knows that his instinct is to decline. He is unsure he should be drinking it, looking at Teyla to give him some direction on how to handle the situation. Ronon isn't as polite or shy in letting her know how he feels about all of this.

Ellia: Would you like some... Dex: No. Ellia: Are, are you sure? It's very good! Dex: I said no. Ellia: Then maybe some biscuits? I baked them myself. Dex: Stay away from me! Teyla: Ronon!

The wraith reacts to Ronon knocking the tray down with an animal scream, its wraith nature suddenly coming through, which causes Ronon to pull his gun on it. McKay seems to be bouncing on his feet, unsure of what he is supposed to do in the situation. He has, however, put the mug down in the meanwhile, likely not having sipped of it. He may even have dropped it at the suddenness of Ronon snapping, as this type of a situation would probably be very agitating to him due to his childhood. His parents hated each other and took it out on him, and it is likely that one or both of them had blown up like this without warning many times in his youth. McKay stands almost immobile, as though he is dissociating again.

Teyla: Was that really necessary? Dex: You can dress her up and teach her table manners, but that's not going to change who she is.

McKay gives Ronon wide breadth as he walks out to cool his head, seeming to swallow as he watches him pass. It is not that McKay can even disagree with him, he is suspicious of the wraith himself. But he cannot deny that Ronon also frightens him, and he does not know Ronon well enough to be able to relax around him when he is acting as unpredictably as he is, especially given his history of violence. And yet it is understandable that Ronon should be upset, as Sheppard had just reminded McKay of the fact that Ronon had spent seven years on the run from the wraith, having lost his entire world to them.

This scene is meant to be an allegory for racism, prejudice and bigotry, of judging people based on what they are rather than who they are, but the moral lesson is ambivalent as the wraith turns out to be just what they think it is. It is misdirection to build sympathy for the wraith with the audience, to make Ronon out to be the bad guy in the scene. Ronon has a very good reason for acting out here. McKay holds his hand up as Ronon passes him, and he seems unsure himself whether he meant it to safeguard himself against Ronon or to appease the man. He sure is glad Ronon is on their side.

They are contacted by Sheppard just as Ronon takes off, and he once more chooses Teyla as his go-to person. This time we do not see McKay's face as he does this. Sheppard sounds both tired and resigned as he calls in.

Sheppard: Teyla, this is Sheppard. Come in? Teyla: Go ahead, Colonel. Sheppard: Is Ellia still in the cave? Teyla: Yes. Sheppard: She been there the whole time? Teyla: Yes, why? Sheppard: Yeah, they just found another victim. Apparently he's only been missing a couple of hours, which means she couldn't have done it. Looks like Zaddik might have been telling the truth after all.

Sheppard watches as the withered husk of a man is wheeled past him, and while he may not have been personally responsible for waking this particular wraith, he knows that by unleashing the wraith on this galaxy he was responsible for countless of lives that had been extinguished just like this one. He is alone in the village, surrounded by the villagers that seem to be building up rage, turning into a literal angry mob with torches and pitchforks. This is a classic trope in monster movies, the villagers gathering up in righteous anger to storm the monster's lair to exert mob justice, to find a release valve for the anger that has been festering in the community in the form of the monster, the outsider, the thing that is different from them and hence can be blamed for all of their problems. And again, as far as the moral lesson here goes, the villagers are right to be frightened and enraged. There is a literal monster that has terrorized them for a decade, that has claimed the lives of their loved ones. They want it to stop, they want to live in peace.

But at the same time, many unprotected minorities have fallen victims to mob justice in the real world, and it is a well-known psychological phenomenon that when people gather together, they do not think rationally, as individuals. They think and act as a group, and as a group their sense of responsibility for their own actions is diminished. As a group, people can do things they would never do on their own and not feel the guilt that would otherwise accompany these actions. Mobs are capable of terrible acts of violence and they do not care if the target of that violence is deserving of it or not, that is not what mob rule is about. And throughout history, individual members of racial and sexual minorities have been targets for mob justice as the outsiders, as the ones that are different from the majority, as the people that are easy scapegoats for evils and ills that have nothing to do with them.

Goran: Colonel Sheppard, is there any progress with this hunt? Sheppard: We're working on it. Goran: Maybe we can help you. Sheppard: That won't be necessary. Callup: We're sick of doing nothing! We're sick of being afraid all the time. That thing is hunting in daylight now! We'll never be safe. Sheppard: Just be patient. We'll take care of it!

Sheppard seems to catch on to the fact that this mob-forming process is taking place in the village, and he is doing his best to get them to calm down and think things through. And it isn't only that he comes from one of the nations on Earth that have a sordid history with mob violence but also the fact that he knows that he is a member of a minority that might be made into the target of such violence at the drop of a hat that makes him want to get the villagers to settle down. And what is more, since they do seem to be on the hunt for an actual wraith, he does not need the forest to be crawling with innocent amateurs that might get caught in the cross-fire.

Callup also makes explicit the crux of the matter: fear. The villagers are afraid and reacting to fear with preemptive violence, fear-based aggression, is part of human nature. And while he does not like admitting it to himself, fear is something that Sheppard knows intimately. Fear has been the fuel to most of the decisions in his life that have brought him here. He too is sick of being afraid all the time, and it seems like falling in love had just made his fear increase a hundredfold. Sheppard can tell the villagers to be patient and that they will take care of their problem for them, they will make the source of their fear go away, but who is there to tell him the same?

Some time later, Sheppard has joined the others in the cave. While Sheppard and McKay are facing each other, McKay seems to have placed himself as far as possible from Sheppard, looking at him over Beckett's head. He seems both hurt and upset, and this may be caused by Sheppard using Teyla as his contact earlier. He seemed much more upset about that than he did about Sheppard smacking him upside the head earlier because in that he was at least paying attention to him, he had been the focus of Sheppard's attention.

Zaddik: See? I told you she wasn't responsible for the killings. The serum makes it unnecessary for her to feed. Sheppard: Can you confirm that?

The old man is talking to Sheppard and we may note the fact that Sheppard does not turn his body to face him which would be the polite thing to do when engaging someone in conversation, he merely turns his head to be able to look at him. Even though Beckett is between them, his body is turned toward McKay. He then leans against the table, turning his back on McKay. He makes a show of ignoring McKay, and where McKay rarely if ever is able to decipher Sheppard's motivations when it comes to himself, Sheppard knows better than to let any hostiles or even potential hostiles in on the fact that McKay is important to him. And again this is not how McKay interprets this situation. For McKay, this is proof of the fact that Sheppard does not trust him and that he still has to earn it back.

Beckett: Not yet. It will be a while before I can complete my analysis Sheppard: All right. Well, in the meantime, there's another wraith out there. Teyla: I believe Ellia may be able to help us find it.

We see McKay sigh and roll his eyes in the background, and it is obvious that there are hurt feelings to go around for both of them. He is pretending to be browsing a book but he is not actually even looking at it. Pretending to read while waiting for the other man to acknowledge their hurt feelings is something that we have seen both of them do (cf. Brotherhood S02E16 for Sheppard doing the same thing, and he will do it again in the future).

Teyla goes to talk to the young wraith currently sulking in her room, and their discussion is very clearly a parallel for things that many gay youth will recognize. One of the more relevant things here is her ability to recognize her own kind just by feeling them out. They again underscore the fact that the teenage wraith is different like this is an After school special. And through this they get a lead on where the adult wraith might be, prompting Sheppard to take Teyla and Ronon with him to check it out. He tells McKay to stay behind.

Teyla: Zaddik? Is there a river nearby? Zaddik: Yes, just to the east. Sheppard: All right, let's go. McKay, stay here and help Beckett. McKay: Ah, medical research? Not really my thing. Sheppard: And hunting wraith? McKay: But, I mean. I could stay and... help Beckett. Sheppard: I need you to keep an eye on them.

Sheppard telling McKay to stay behind is one of the many instances in recent times where he makes McKay feel like he is not being chosen, that he is actively chosen against by Sheppard. That Sheppard does not want or need his company and hence pawns him off to someone else. That is not what Sheppard is doing. He needs McKay to be safe, and hence does not want to take him near the killer wraith. He had only moments ago seen the corpse of the last victim of this wraith, and he is not going to take any chances that might lead to this happening to McKay. He makes him stay back by posing the question of whether hunting the wraith is really his thing, as though implying that he is not fit for the field, communicating that he is a scientist with a cushy indoors job and that he should sit this one out because he might get himself hurt.

And yet, McKay has actually saved Sheppard's life from a wraith, he has seen it. He knows what McKay is capable of, especially when push comes to shove. He does not think that McKay is a liability on the field, as such. He becomes a liability in the way his presence distracts Sheppard and forces him to keep a portion of his attention on McKay at all times. If McKay is there, he cannot give the task his whole focus. And while McKay interprets Sheppard's line as meaning that he has no business hunting wraith, Sheppard may just as well have meant to communicate that he knows this is not something McKay enjoys so he is free to sit this one out if he wants to.

But the thing is, Sheppard did have a reason to leave McKay behind that had nothing to do with his need to keep McKay out of harm's way. That was his main motivation to be sure, but he also needed someone capable of using a gun to stay in the cave with Beckett, to not leave Beckett alone with the old man and the wraith. Out of all of them, Beckett was the one who was completely defenseless and he did not trust these people to the extent that he could leave Beckett back by himself. He needed both Ronon, for his wraith hunting skills, and Teyla for his ability to sense the wraith, to be out there with him so that they might be able to take the wraith out, and so McKay was both the logical and only choice he had to leave some security with Beckett, the chief medical officer of Atlantis and someone that they really needed to keep safe.

And he is trying to communicate this to McKay with his eyes, motioning with his head toward Beckett and the old man. This is another clear example of that wordless communication between them, and McKay should be able to read Sheppard's thoughts here. Sheppard cannot say it out loud that he does not trust the old man and the wraith alone with Beckett, and he is willing McKay to understand why he wants him to stay back. Implying that he is not fit for the hunt is a ruse to make the old man believe that McKay was left behind because they have no use for him on the field. And yet Sheppard very much believes that McKay will be able to take a teenage wraith down if need be. This is John Sheppard trying to grow as a person. Even though it is not easy, this is him trying to trust McKay to be able to handle the situation on his own. But for McKay it is evidence of the opposite. Sheppard does not trust him and has no faith in his abilities due to recent events. He still has to work on earning that back.

Continued in Pt. 7

[sillyfairygarden]

fic writer interview

tem so lovingly tagged me in this and i am eager to procrastinate... okayyy fic time

How many works do you have on AO3?

12 beautiful sweet angels living on a cloud. cloud is called ao3 island. (yes this number is one higher than you will find on my page...) that number saddens me a bit because if i went through old pseuds/deleted fics, and other platforms it's probably closer to 40! but alas. many such cases of deleting my digital footprint U_U

What's your total AO3 word count?

good god i have 145k words of minecraft fanfiction out there. that is so scary.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

at the invitation of any desire: (this one just kind of. blows my mind away that it's in this position because this fic felt like a fever dream)

the first disciple: this is just. AUUUGHH

but oh, the bloom: my sweet sugarplum daughter with many illnesses

4 and 5 are a faint slash of tenderness and you are here to risk your heart, which makes me so happy to see these sister stories together.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

stares at the (184) next to my inbox. blinks. well here's the thing. i LOVE the ecosystem of comments on ao3 and i've always been a big believer in comment writing. however 😭 sometimes i don't know what to say! i feel blown away that people take the time to leave such long, detailed comments for some of my works (you know who you are) and those really are long term fuel for my heart.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

of my currently published fics, no number exists for griefs like these. i'm not a common purveyor of the major character death tag, but it was a little fun and silly.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

oh god. i've written a lot of bittersweet endings recently, as i'm going through my own works and going sad--bittersweet--sad--bad--bittersweet as i work my way down the lines so... i suppose the happiest "ending" to a fic would be a single pale rose. where it's really just a story of early beginnings (without an ending of its own stamped on)

Do you write crossovers?

i'll admit. a crossover is a hard-sell for me mostly because i have to feel invested enough in BOTH fields of media to really Get invested. unforties i know like 0.6 media so that's a pretty limited genre for me. i've read a smattering of good crossover fics across my years but i'll tentatively leave that in the hands of writers who have that genre of brainrot.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

when i think of like, old-school style fic trashing, nah not really. i've gotten a handful of oddball comments with varying degrees of dismissal, distaste, or hilarious confusion towards the story over the years, but genuinely they're truly drops in the ocean.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes i looooove writing smut and raunchy times. i just think explorations of intimacy and trust and bodies through sex in stories is so cool. vulnerability and shame are these topics i feel endlessly, constantly inspired and impassioned by.

there's this incredibly niche range of erotic and emotionally sensual that i love to read/write within. unforties this means i have to write most of the smut i want to read... SAD!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

NO....

Have you ever had a fic translated?

my own attempts to poorly practice translations on my own fics have gone. badly. and also no.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

definitely no <3 i've dabbled in the idea but i'm very individualistic and a bit prideful when it comes to autonomy in my work. i don't think co-writing stories is something i enjoy, but i love playing-off other people with ideas, characters, etc.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

okay, backing up from the mcyt bubble (where SORRY none of these ships really hold weight) all time favourite ships of mine are fakiru, chrobin, bubbline, utenthy, catradora, usamamo, many such yuries. if you squint you will see the shadow of these ships in everything i create forever and ever <3

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

oh man. i've posted two of those unfinished fragment-fics (where, they were intended to be much longer but never took off) in to be wild and the champion's banquet. ultimately there's many more, stories i started in old fandoms that lost their spark, ideas that once tied me to certain creators i no longer support, concepts and outlines that will never get the dedicated time they deserve to bloom.

in total i probably have an extra ~100k of unpublished writing between different unfinished stories, drafts, wips, and ideas (and that's a modest guess, as the last time i counted was early 2023).

What are your writing strengths?

i loooove personification and descriptions and metaphors. i think it's so fun to join words and sentences together via descriptions, flow, and imagery that's different than you might expect. i think i write emotional messiness relatively well (as i looove a little hypocrisy and unreliable narration) and overall i just like writing about people and love and the human condition. PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH!

What are your writing weaknesses?

sometimes i do, in fact, get lost in the sauce. i think i've over-corrected for a slow pacing issue by now rushing through scenes, and it kills tension. it makes action/suspenseful writing REALLY hard. you guys have no idea how much i struggled on there's a room where the light won't find you, my action-filled piece for hgcz.

also i HATE titles oh my god. titles we're meeting in the back of a dark room and i've got a weapon

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

so i've kind of flip-flopped here. i was in the camp of "cringe" on this for awhile, and then i wrote light is burning as i am yearning where i used galactic in-line with the dialogue and sort of loved it. the main reason it felt so cohesive was i wanted the reader to sort of lose understanding of what was happening alongside the character. in that aspect, i think the galactic

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

h. hetalia (my ffnet account is backdated to 2010 <3)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

ohhhh within this fandom, i'm really keen to write gempearl at some point or convex. from outside the mcyt sphere, i have a really soft spot for some older series i loved but didn't have the confidence/prowess to explore ideas about that i'd love to go back and write for. so like personal passion projects i suppose

What's your favorite fic you've written?

god i oscillate on this question so much. right now it's the first disciple simply by merit of recency bias. sometimes i think a story or idea comes into my life to challenge me, and to provide me a mountain to overcome in myself, and i'm finding this story to be an example.

i love writing and talking about stories. my art feels like an endless way to tell stories about ideas, characters, bodies, and humanity: through writing and artwork i hope to continue to be a storyteller.

and now to tag people <3 i'm calling upon the hgcz writer's guild! if you've already done this, please feel free to ignore the tag @mochiwrites @boonbeenblade @theminecraftbee @droidofmay @alicenotalice @kayawolfhorse