#written on a lark

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

~Chapter 2: Snippet~

Maul is scooped up with the force, left helpless and suspended. He howls about it.

“Wow. Is that… a cat?” asks a mon calamari coming over to look at him.

“I believe so,” Kenobi replies, “Though it needs a bath rather badly.”

The force which has him pulls Maul back to the medical bed, and gently holds him there. It smells terrible in here, like antiseptic and bacta.

“No kidding… but don't they hate water?” The mon cala asks.

“Bant my dear, I honestly have no idea,” Kenobi offers, “I've never seen one outside of holos before.”

“The horns are so cute…” the healer muses, pulling a scanner from her belt. “...looks like it's a ‘him’? He's intact too. I hope you aren't looking to get him neutered, I don't know how.”

Neutered?!

Cursed or not, Maul is going to kill these jedi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Maul : Featuring cursed Cat!Maul, the underside of Obi-Wan's couch, and a lot of entertained but confused jedi. : Crackish : Rated T but may change : 👍🏽

[peplark-writes]

Hello, everyone!

I haven't posted original content in a long time. To be honest, I never really posted original content consistently. (And that's okay! That's not something you have to do, it's just something I'd like to be doing.)

Something I realized early on with my new therapist is that I have a lot of trauma surrounding finishing and sharing creative projects, especially written ones. We decided my first step in healing from that would be to write up a little booklet of 20 poems, and then share them. So, over the past few months, that's what I did!

I've formatted them in such a way that you can print them front and back and fold them into a little booklet! I've made it available to download on ko-fi (pay what you want, but you must donate at least $2 to access my transgender trauma). If I know you and we've talked before, you can message me here or on discord and I'll send you a copy!

If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy!

[human-sweater-vest]

okay so we’ve seen glenn and ron so far in season two and they’ve been kind of what I expected.

glenn is pretty much the same as he was season one. it makes sense, he’s set in his whole thing, he’s vibing in hell with morgan and is sporting the same chill stoner vibes as before. the notable thing with him was that there wasn’t really animosity between him and nick (which also makes sense given their whole deal in season one). he’s always been far removed and it makes sense that in season two he’s still rockin with it.

ron then was a really touching surprise because he continued to grow as a person (insert beth may snickering here). he connected easily with scary and hit me like a fucking freight train with the line about him being sorry that she didn’t realize that losing terry jr. was her loss too. he’s this strange intermediary between the men in their family because willy took advantage of her needing someone to validate her pain, terry jr. was seen as a cause of it and therefore couldn’t help ease it truly (until things were too late), and then ron is here being his odd little self and extends sympathy to her because he also lost terry jr. and can understand. kudos to beth for ep. 41 because she rode the line between comedy and genuinely heartfelt and deep emotional moments like a champ.

and now here’s where we turn to speculation:

I’ve seen a lot of folks saying they’re worried about henry (and I feel like he’s probably going to warrant that because duh, it all comes back to the oak family when it comes to the doodler). however! my first point here is that we shouldn’t ignore darryl.

I feel like we see the most thought going into the oaks (and again, rightfully so, will and anthony are serving us trauma and drama on a platter) and I think one of the sacrifices with that comes at the extent of the wilson boys. the darryl/grant arc was the first time I really, truly got what dndads was all about. specifically, matt’s incredible line where darryl is replying to the other dads saying that he should showcase vulnerability to grant with darryl snapping and saying that he can’t be fully honest because he’s putting on a brave face because he doesn’t know if they’ll make it out and if he and carol will even stay together if they do. that line then contrasted later when he says that if grant asks him a question he’ll do his best to answer truthfully which allows for the big emotional connection they were lacking.

the wilson father/son relationship hinges on the idea of not being able to love the pain away and we see that extend into the next generation in a deeply tragic way. grant can’t make his mental illness magically disappear by loving his son despite how badly he clearly wants to. he can’t “we’ll talk about it later” his way into a healthy relationship where he’s able to offer his son both stability and truth. he’s fucked up and traumatized and never fully dealt with things and he’s dealing with the ramifications.

so how do we think darryl feels about that? how do we think darryl would feel knowing that he couldn’t love away grant’s mental illness (which isn’t something you can do, but he feels immensely guilty about in season one) and seeing the disastrous effect it had on the relationship between his son and grandson to the point where linc no longer refers to him as a dad? I personally really do think that he’ll act as a balm between the two and finally provide that space for them to become father and son again.

there’s truly so much I could say on the wilson family because I’m fascinated by the transition between the most stereotypically masculine family dynamic to a queered one (in both senses of the world) and how the thru line for the generations is this idea of not being able to 1. disclose the truth out of a sense of protection (see: frank hiding his marital and monetary issues, darryl hiding his martial issues and fear of not surviving faerun, and grant hiding who he is and what he does) and 2. love away the pain/illness.

and now we turn to the oak boys. I’m operating on the assumption that henry will be the last dad that they seek out because 1. glenn and terry jr. are in the same spot which means we get a two for one combo deal in hell 2. lark and sparrow clearly have a bad or at the very least strained relationship with their dad and will be less likely to jump on seeking him out and 3. the oak family started the whole doodler thing in this show so it makes sense that they’ll end it.

and for the sake of transparency: here’s where my bias comes through. henry was my favorite season one dad. normal is my favorite season two kid. will campos if you’re reading this, I want you to know that if I could simultaneously give you an academy award and sue you for emotional damages, I would.

the oaks have the most literal device explaining their generational trauma. hildy was ripped from her world after her companions were brutally killed in front of her, barry is a piece of shit, henry has the weight of both his father and having to be a father despite not having a role model, lark and sparrow are fucked up beyond belief in a manner of ways that starts at fucking their twin’s spouse and ends with starting the literal apocalypse. and then there’s normal. bearing the brunt of it all when he wasn’t even given the support to. he’s been carrying the weight of expectation since birth. his sister is hero, he’s normal and yet he’s anything but. that’s a whole other essay (catch me writing that when it’s not 2am).

back to the twins and henry though. from their view it’s bad right? lark hates his dad and destroyed the world. sparrow was an accomplice. I can’t imagine that things were easy after the doodler was released in the oak-garcia household. ESPECIALLY — and this has had me uncomfortable since we learned it offhand in episode 29 of the season — because henry and mercedes had another kid. first things first (and this might just be a me and my cultural background thing), but a minimum decade age gap between your first and second kids is A Lot. especially given the context here that henry struggles with being a father for the aforementioned reasons and his children literally Ended The World. I dunno about you but I think that I’d avoid having more kids at pretty much all costs at that point. but he and mercedes don’t. and hey maybe birdie/birdy was an accident. but my suspicion here (and I very much might be reading too deep into something mentioned in a literal “see you again” parody) is that birdie was a second chance kid. which would fucking blow if you were the aforementioned dad-stabbing—eldritch-creature-releasing child because it would look like your dad had gone “okay well that didn’t work out I can’t find a way to make these kids work so let’s try another one” which would justify the distance and dislike of henry from both of the boys.

I’m a very big fan of henry. he’s fucked up in the exact way I like my fictional men and also reminds me of guys from the city I grew up in which is both appalling and endearing. however, this is absolutely a move I could see him justifying to himself which morally makes me wanna walk into the sea and from a character/story standpoint makes me wanna jump up and down in glee. I really, truly am hoping that things pan out like that and we see a henry who loves his beautiful boys very deeply, but also gave up on them in exchange for a do-over.

I’m especially excited to see how he interacts with normal because my first instinct based on season one without my fucked up and evil birdie theory is that he’ll love normal and make him feel special and seen while my second post-birdiegate instinct is that he’s just not going to care anymore and therefore do fuck-all for normal. he has the energy of a man who eventually just stops trying because he can’t ever make everything better. will campos, if you deliver on that, I’ll figure out how to sneak the oak family into an academic paper.

finally (for now), I’m predicting that the familial reunions will reflect the how the anchors broke. glenn, ron, and darryl will be love while henry will be hate. I think there’s a lot of possibility there that I can break down when it’s not almost 3am. thanks for reading! lmk what you think, I really want to discuss this with folks and get your takes!!

[willow-lark]

more jesper pov! what is kaz up to now... 👀

// stay tuned for more of my kanej au inspired by orpheus and eurydice!🐦‍⬛🎼

[c4n1d43cup1d]

uhhh idk what to post today so i hope u guys like ocs

[rooolt]

Do you think lark kept the knife? Do you think, that when his body convulsed to spill all his sins across the sky, do you think he gripped tighter to the hilt, white knuckled and determined, or do you think it slipped from his fingers as he soon came to face the horror he wrought? Do you think he saved up for that knife? Do you think it was a pretty, intricate thing, bought after weeks and weeks of chores, or do you think it was simply a knife he pilfered from the kitchen, so innocuous and unassuming that no one would notice it was gone? Do you think he ever brandished that knife again, drew anyone else’s blood? Do you think he took it against the doodler, against himself? Do you think it even meant anything to him, in the after? Do you think he simply wiped it off and threw it out, or do you think he looked into it every night, hoping one day he wouldn’t see himself? Do you think Henry or sparrow tried to take it off him, to protect him and everyone else from himself? Or do you think it escaped their notice, too caught up in a solution? Do you think the knife itself is even important enough to consider, or do you think cold steel in your back doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as the hardened conviction and hatred staring back at you through your sons eyes?

[jamiesfootball]

@sighonaraa you opened the door on this so here we go:

PACIFIC RIM AU

Ted and Beard? Hella drift compatible. Shouldn't even need to be said. Since becoming a dad, Ted has struggled to justify his job as a trainer for the Pan Pacific Defense Corp, but damnit someone has to care about these pilots. Someone's gotta train them to make it out alive. So many of them die young.

He wonders sometimes if its selfish of him that he's not a pilot himself, but there's no hiding that sort of thinking in the drift. The Beard he knows in the drift is the gentlest man in the world, and he always, always, talks Ted down from doing anything stupid.

Rebecca is what happens when the drift goes sour. Rupert used what he learned to dig his claws in further. Rebecca was never a pilot, but Rupert's money helped built all of this. Even though she left him, even though he's halfway across the Pacific and she's the one left running everything, his voice remains in her head like a ghost. It's only by having people like Keeley and Ted at her side that she's begun to think 'maybe I'll try again some day. maybe.'

The tragedy of Roy Kent is that he didn't die young. Recruits have been calling him an old man since he turned thirty. He's almost forty. He's outlived all the recruits who first called him old. At this point he's become so overbearing, so controlling in a drift, that he's almost impossible to find a partner for.

Everyone is bewildered when one of the new recruits, some hot-headed mollusk they pried out of Manchester of all places, takes the general compatibility test and his scores come back. They check and they check again, and then they reluctantly call in Roy Kent.

Roy dislikes him instantly. He's too cocky and he doesn't take the risks seriously. They have one sparring session. Roy curses the sixth sense years of piloting have given him. They're drift compatible. Offensively so. Why won't the world give him a break?

Their first and only test drift is an unmitigated disaster. They nearly destroy one of the last functioning Jaegers; repairs will take months. Both of them walk away from the experience scraped raw and haunted by the knowledge they'll have to carry about each other for the rest of their lives.

Meanwhile Colin and Isaac are two guys from different departments who happened to meet in the lift one day. They ended up at the cafeteria talking for hours about everything and nothing, and the next day they got tested on a lark, even though neither was in the training program. Scores came back off the chart, they are now in the training program. It's terrifying. They wouldn't trade it for the world.

Richard and Jan Maas are barely drift compatible and shouldn't be let anywhere near a giant robot but somehow they keep winning so-

Keeley is the cutie on the bridge who gets to wear the bright colorful suspenders and run the clock.

Moe is one of those crazy scientists, but I couldn't decide which one so he might be both idk

Actually I've decided that Trent Crimm is Newton. He's not a scientist per se but he is a researcher and has fantastic style and rock t-shirts.

Oh and there's a sweet moment in here where Dani offers to drift with Jamie even though they basically just met and it is beautiful and healing. Dani is one of the most all-around drift compatible people around, but he really loves his amigo Jamie.

Sam is also a pilot in training and everyone in the world is like 'please no don't let the kaiju kill him or truly there is there no god in this world'

[kaseyskat]

“Brother, you look like death.” Lark remarks as he carefully weasels his way into the bedroom, balancing a bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

It isn’t often that one of them gets sick without the other. In fact, Lark can only think of one singular time where he had been rendered useless for an entire week from the flu- and though Sparrow somehow had never caught it, he had spent the entire week at home, fretful and worried.

Lark couldn’t understand that before, but he understands it a little bit more now as he watches Sparrow shift in the pillows, staring blearily at him with puffy wet eyes.

“I brought you some food,” he offers when Sparrow makes no attempt to respond to the comment, still just staring at him strangely. “Think you can keep it down?”

Still no response. Lark frowns, and he sets the soup and the water on the nightstand so that his hands are free as he perches on the edge of the bed. “Sparrow?” he prompts, leaning over his miserable brother and placing a hand on his forehead.

Sparrow’s forehead is sweaty and far warmer than Lark had expected, and he makes a sad little whimpering noise at the touch, like he’s only just now noticed that Lark is there. At a closer look, his eyes are unfocused, and they flutter closed as Lark’s frown deepens.

He’s never seen his brother like this before: Sparrow, despite his weaker mindset and dedication to using love to combat violence, has always been strangely resilient to illnesses and injuries. Lark doesn’t quite know what to do, how to help, but something tugs in his chest hard at the sight.

As he gently wipes at the sweat pooling on his brother’s brow, Sparrow makes another low whine, and his eyes flutter open again, hazy and unfocused even as he squints in Lark’s direction. “Larky?” he rasps, giving a shuddering exhale.

“Welcome back to lucidity, dear Sparrow,” Lark greets, and he leans in a little further so he can gently smooth back Sparrow’s damp bangs, a fond chuckle escaping him as Sparrow leans into the touch. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I lost a fight,” Sparrow says weakly, and he shivers. “And I’m so cold… can I have another blanket?”

Lark frowns again. He knows that sweating out a fever is probably the smartest option, but…

“…here, allow me,” he nudges his way into the bed, propping himself up on the pillows. It’s an invitation, one that Sparrow immediately accepts, curling into the open arms Lark offers as soon as he’s able.

He’s still so warm, almost uncomfortably so, but Lark finds he doesn’t mind. This is his brother, after all, his twin, his other half- and he knows that Sparrow would do the same for him.

“There, better?” he asks, tugging Sparrow further into his arms so that his brother’s sweaty head is nestled against his chest, far enough up that Lark can reach the blankets and tuck them back around them both.

“Mhm,” Sparrow sighs contently, and he curls both arms around Lark’s torso, his breathing ragged and hoarse.

“Good. Now please, go back to sleep. You need the rest, and I don’t want to babysit you any longer than necessary.” Lark snips, though his tone gives way to sincerity in a way he hadn’t expected; figures if anyone could turn him into a sap, it’d be his brother.

Sparrow doesn’t even respond; his eyes are fluttering, and his breathing evens out as much as his sickly body can muster, and despite it all he’s still just as adorable as he is all the time, the light of Lark’s life.

Lark spares one last helpless glance at the soup he had brought, and then he sighs, curling his arms around his brother and settling himself against the pillows- he might be here for awhile.

(Later, the door creaks open. Lark was, after all, supposed to return the bowl used for Sparrow’s soup, and Henry could only hold himself back for so long.

He isn’t sure what to expect - Lark had stubbornly insisted on being the one to tend to his brother through the illness - so he peeks inside the bedroom cautiously, fully prepared to be snapped at for interfering.

Instead, he finds his sons both peacefully asleep on Sparrow’s bed, Lark snoozing against the pillows with Sparrow fully entangled in his arms. Henry stops at the doorway and smiles, taking in the sight and committing it to memory: they’d never forgive him for taking a picture, no matter how much he yearned to save it forever.

He’ll be back to check on them with more medicine for Sparrow later. For now, he closes the door as gently as he can: they clearly both need the rest).

[simply-sithel]

New job means the brain's been a' churning with code lately. Putting some cycles towards @renegadeguild this month-- signature order spine lines are (languishing) in review (as Draft) and I threw together a typeset assembly tool in hopes of finally (collaboratively) tackling the idea of a Renegade cookbook.

Launched in honor/anticipation of Edible Book Day (April 1st), the Renegade PDF Potluck tool is currently accepting entries. Currently only available to Renegade Bindery folks (thems on the Discord) -- you can find the link & info in the Event on the server.

Deadline for entries is tomorrow (Saturday, March 22nd 2024) @ midnight PST but seeing as only 2 entries have been submitted so far, might be extending that a bit.

[nick-close]

I’ll be real guys Lark is too hot to ever suck bad enough that I won’t like him. If I was hero I would’ve killed the doodler by now idk. Skill issue.

[anoctoberpepper]

This is finally done! Watch as the kiddads try to survive early adulthood in a series of drabbles. They love each other very much and take care of each other because fluff and angst is my greatest need. Also the thing grew a plot so watch as the kiddads slowly but surely force Grant to take Linc to a park for the first time.

[the-sky-queen]

"The jungle is more than my home."

Windthrow belongs to @son1c

Lark belongs to me!

Windthrow didn't quite turn out how I wanted. He's a bit off, but I guess that's what I get for not drawing Werehog Sonic at all before this, lol.

Anyway, introducing Lark the Hedgehog! Lark is a really interesting case. He was born in the far reaches of the Bosscage Maze, thousands of miles from Prim's group of scavengers. At a young age, Lark discovered his ability to communicate with plants and wildlife. When he listened hard enough, he discovered that each living thing contains a small section of one of the ancient songs. Lark started collecting these pieces until he he had compiled four songs. (He has thousands of incomplete little bits though.) When playing these songs on his pan flute, Lark is able to communicate with the deepest essence of nature, leaving him in somewhat of a trance-like state for a bit afterwards.

Lark wandered the Bosscage for years, helping out any distressed flora or fauna he found. He occasionally ran into other tribes of mobians or the rare humans, but he was never allowed to stay with them. They all saw his powers as cursed and unnatural. He was cast out every time.

Eventually, Lark felt the presence of the Great Green. He was drawn to it, as it had an essence unlike any he had ever known. Lark found and talked with the mega palm tree until Thorn caught him, returning from chasing off the Scavengers again. After a rocky start, Lark and Thorn became good friends. Lark told Thorn a lot about his powers. Over the following months, they became close and even started to develop feelings for each other. However, this happiness would not last forever.

When Lark discovered that Thorn was keeping the Scavengers out of the jungle, they had a fight. Lark was insistent that Thorn couldn't starve them, but she wouldn't listen. Lark ultimately decided to go help them. Thorn angrily told him not to come back. Lark tried to help the Scavengers with his powers, but like everyone else, they cast him out. Lark disappeared back into the forest to keep wandering.

Now that everything is okay between Thorn and the Scavengers, Thorn regrets banishing Lark. Will she ever see him again?

If Lark and Windthrow ever met, I think they'd have fun together. Lark could probably help Windthrow on his supply runs by making sure nothing attacks them. Mostly though, I think they'd just wrestle, lol. I think Windthrow could unlock a much more playful part of Lark that he hasn't brought out in years.

[willow-lark]

in my will byers angst era rn no one talk to me

[rockcattomato]

Anyway. Lark smokes cigarettes because they remind him of Nick.

[crookshanks23]

Homegrown

Henry was exhausted, mostly. There were other feelings, too, but he wasn't going to deal with those right now. (You can't control yourself.) Going to the Church of the Doodler was supposed to help them. Guide them. But now he just had more questions. Mostly about his son. Sons actually. Lark had refused to tell anyone what he had seen on the throne. (My poor son, you know as well as I do... you can't control these children.) Not that Henry would've expected Lark to tell him anything. (I don't like you.) And Sparrow echoing his brother's sentiments... did Sparrow just say what he thought Lark would say? Or did Sparrow feel those things too? What was Henry supposed to do other than take his sons at their word? And there were those other feelings again.

Despite the weariness in his bones and the late hour, Henry went out to the back porch and sat. He needed to screw his head on straight before trying to sleep tonight. (...but you're so afraid of it, you're so upset at yourself for that specialness within you that it just manifests as all this rage.) Not for the first time, he sat on the porch and stared at the inky blackness, missing the stars. They used to bring him such comfort. And now they were gone. And he's just left with the unspoken. The anger that he can't express. Won't express. Won't allow himself to express.

He thought about the look he saw on his boys today. The intensity of both of them. Lark, determined and angry. Sparrow, determined, angry, and sad. He thought about how much those looks had changed since his son had stabbed him and brought forth a chaos god. Not their intensity, no. His beautiful boys had always been intense. But the weariness and sadness in both of them. The anger in Lark. Man, he wished Lark and Sparrow would stop blaming themselves. Lark's (no - Sparrow's) words echoed in his head. "If you'd been a better father..." (This is my fault, but it's your fault too! You fucked this up - We fucked this-...) They were right. Barry had been right. It truly was his fault. He hadn't been able to control his children. And how his son was telling them the only way out was to kill an eldritch god.

The sky above took him back to that night in the kitchen, making popcorn. "But, Lark? I believe you have an apology for Father?" The hope that had filled his chest at that moment. His child that had wanted nothing to do with him for weeks, wanted to speak to him? Wanted to apologize even? Maybe the effects of the Rogue Card had finally warn off now that they'd been home for a bit.

Henry knelt down on the yellow linoleum, wondering what his son was going to say.

"I really do need to apologize, Father. I am sorry" (You can't control these children.)

And then pain.

Physical pain at first. And then the pain of betrayal. But before that could fully set in, a new pain appeared in his body, burning like fire and static under his skin, making its way to his gut. He pitched forward, retching, black bile pouring onto the floor out of his body and out of his sons.

And then it was over. The stab felt numb. The betrayal sat there, as negative emotions about his sons often did in Henry, quickly replaced with panic and urgency to see what had happened outside as the world fell apart around them.

Present Henry remembered that moment and remembered that brief feeling of betrayal that he had since refused to acknowledge. But now that feeling was staring him in the face. And that was the problem - he could never allow himself to have those feelings about his sons. He was confronted with the fact that while he was great at loving them and dealing with the feelings of others, he could never cope with how infuriated and frustrated his own boys made him feel. Because he refused to hate his children the way that Barry had hated him. Refused to become his father.

And because he never learned to cope with those feelings, the sky had filled with static and turned red. The eye of the Doodler now forever watching. Because he couldn't figure himself out. He could never hate his sons. Sparrow loved him but was torn between his father and his brother. Lark hated him and also had come to hate himself. And how Henry knew they both blamed him. And he wouldn't fault them for that. At the end of the day, it was his fault. Sure, Willy had cast a spell - but those boys were trying to summon the Doodler long before Willy had met them. Henry had never truly taken the boys at their word that they wanted to summon the Doodler. He had thought it was the fantastical ambition of two chaotic pre-teens. And now he had to figure out how to save the world.

There was only one other place Henry could think to go. One place that he'd been avoiding like the plague. But it contained the only person he knew that might know something about the Doodler. The only other person who had lived with it. Henry stood up and walked inside. It was finally time to deal with the anger burning inside him. The anger he had passed to Lark. He couldn't change the past. All he could do was love and support his family and maybe hope that he could be the hero this world needed, unsung or not. It was time to go home.

[buysomecheese]

https://at.tumblr.com/buysomecheese/soldier-poet-king-quiz-but-dndads-kiddads-lark/pkaw84zyfm1u

Pt. 1 https://at.tumblr.com/buysomecheese/httpsattumblrcombuysomecheesesoldier-poet-ki/g8g61pubq4kw

Pt. 2 here!!

Pt. 3 https://at.tumblr.com/buysomecheese/httpsattumblrcombuysomecheesesoldier-poet-ki/wuh9mktbo9f5

Kids:

Lark- soldier. Everyone expected that. Everyone knows how he holds his anger, how much he feels and how strongly. He wishes he wanted to let go, but nothing has been consistent in his life except for his anger, his grief, and his brother. And what is grief if not anger directed in, what is his Sparrow if not a reflection of himself? What are twins if not mirrors, foils, parallels? For as long as Lark is angry, his Sparrow will be grieving. For as long as Sparrow is fuming, Lark will be bereaved. Nothing is, or could be, more of a comfort to him. Nothing is, or could be, a greater sense of pain to him.

Sparrow- everyone else expected poet. Sparrow was the only one truly not taken aback when she showed their phone screen, matching Lark’s. She honestly wishes he’d been less honest; maybe then, looks of surprise wouldn’t be plastered across their faces, shame flooding through Sparrow’s beaten body. His anger is shameful. Anger is painful, for the people she wants to be able to love and the people who’ve decided to love them. “Remember: love is passion too.” Bold, assuming he feels the love they talk about. Rude to assume she understands love or passion or anger. All he can do is want and lash out, apologize and hurt.

Terry Jr.- wanted king, got poet. Honestly, he did expect this outcome. However, it’s fun to imagine. He feels so much responsibility for so much all of the time, it would’ve been nice to see that recognized. But he guesses that this would be the way it turns out. He gives so much for his friends; he tries so hard in the areas he’s inept in. Always feeling like it’s never enough, what can he do to make things just a little bit easier? “Just live,” a little voice in his head will remind him. “You think you're not enough. Here's the truth : you are.” A longer, a more poetic version of what he’d hear his mother tell his (step) father, what his (step) father would repeat to him- “You are enough just as you are.” Yes, but he wants to be overfilling with things to offer. He wants to be a pool in a hurricane, more water than can be held, forgetting about the destructive natures of such things.

Nicky- oh, how the soldier called to him. How much they would love to fight for, with, and against their lovebird, their closest friends. He idealized that idea, wanting so bad to be strong and find intensity in the anger in every place they went, every person they interacted with. Neither of them want the poet. Neither of them find themselves creating in that way, a way that’s too reminiscent of Nick before he was lost and of Glenn after that same event. He knows, they know, how the pain they’ve been through and felt and share is so unique it should be considered an art form, but that would prompt people to admire and idolize. A concept they are too familiar with from each of their own personal childhoods, they have such convoluted feelings on the subject. To create is to provide others’ with things to love and a pedestal for under his feet. To fight is to provide and protect and stabilize; even to rule would be a better fate. But oh well, if they are destined to follow in footsteps already laid out for them, at least they know they’ll be cool.

Grant- poet is the only one that would even make sense. He’s a librarian; he has an English degree, he annotates poems in his free time- not that there’s much of that anymore. He would find himself talking with Terry, much closer now that everyone is changing. If he took this quiz when he was younger, he would get soldier. Terry got poet; of course, they share literature all the time. And yet. It is the crown that finds him, the duty to lead that was thrust into his small 13 year old hands. He didn’t have it in him then. It had to fester, he had to watch his dad and TJ grow up and find ways to be firm but not cruel before he could even begin to allow himself a place at the helm of the ship that is his friends, the ship fighting the things that have hurt them all in the ways they’ve been hurt. He has the poet within him though; he sees it in the flowery language he uses in his journal, in describing how things are different and will never be the same. Maybe he can breathe someday. Maybe he can grow into what he believes he wants to be.