#many thoughts about immortal and maybe-a-bit-past-mortal friendship...

[laughingpinecone]

HUG THAT ALCHEMIST, a tale in several chapters (pictured: two). Candyhearts treat for @siverwrites because THEY 😭

[scvrllet]

Eternity

“What crueler punishment is there than love?”

PAIRING: Regulus Black x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Falling in-love was always scary, but falling in-love knowing there is an inevitable end is terrifying

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNING(S): Mentions of death + brief mentions of grief, Immortal!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: This has been sitting in my drafts for months ( back when i was an active hp writer and was primarily in said fandom) and finally decided to post it

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Immortality may seem like a blessing to those who desire it but forget the burden those cursed with it must carry.

How long have you been alive to watch the world around you evolve? Watch as one Dark Wizard rose and fell only for another to take their place? Watch as those you loved died, leaving you to grieve for all of eternity but yet some dare say that it’s a gift? The answer; far too long.

If anything, it’s more of a curse than a gift. A cruel way of punishing others but not just them but their family as well.

Old magic was dangerous and masters of those forces were not to be messed with. Your family had learnt that the hard way many years ago. An old witch, who one of your past ancestors had wrongly messed with, put a curse on your family. Any and every daughter born into the (Y/L/N) family would be cursed with immortality, paying their ancestors debt for all of eternity. Perhaps this is where the term ‘old soul’ had come from. You thought to yourself once. It humored you at the time but barely anymore. All you wanted was for your soul to be at rest but due to that witch’s magic, that would never happen.

When your parents welcomed you into the world you would be cursed to live in forever, a part of them had hoped that the curse would have somehow skipped a generation but when they noticed your lack of physical aging as you grew up, the only thing they could do was spend as much time with you as possible, your father especially. His time was running out but not yours. It never would.

You’ve lived through many decades and met several people, most of whom were starting to leave your mind, being replaced by the new people you were always meeting. Friends in your opinion, were easily replaceable. Whether it be betrayal or death that causes a rift in the friendship, there was always another willing to fill that spot. This being said, it didn’t mean you never loved them because you did. You spilled all your secrets and thoughts into them and held them as death took them away from you. Oh how their souls were fortunate enough to be able to rest.

You remember listening to your aunts and grandmother talking about their past lovers as a little girl. When one had finally passed, they’d give themselves some time to grieve before hopping into a new relationship, allowing the cycle to repeat itself. They would’ve expected for you to follow in their footsteps given the curse and all but were quite surprised when decades, maybe even centuries had passed, and you were still in-love with that boy from 1976.

You smiled as you recalled the day. It was the day you realized you were falling in-love for the first and possibly the only time in your life. For a moment, that moment specifically, you forgot about your curse and what would result from it.

It was the third of December. Snow fell onto the white ground as a cool breeze turned your faces red. You were both supposed to be in Herbology class at the time, not by the Black Lake throwing snowballs at each other but

With a bit of help from your magic, you had sent at least ten snowballs in his direction. You laughed as it hit him in the face and the moment of you letting your guard down allowed for him to throw one right back at you.

Your face was cold and wet as you wiped the snow off your face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you noticed a sparkle in his grey eyes before another snowball hit you in the face.

“Reg I swear to God I will murder you.” You threatened as you wiped the snow off your face. Anybody else would’ve been scared and immediately apologized but he knew you like the back of his hand.

“Is that so love?” He teased knowing that nickname was always able to crack your façade. Glaring daggers at him, you hoped he wouldn’t notice how your face got warmer but he saw the corners of your lip twitch upwards a bit and that was all he needed to continue teasing you.

Waving your wand, a pile of snowballs appeared beside you and before Regulus could even say anything, they were all sent flying in his direction one by one. He sighed in relief when the last of the snowballs had been fired at him before using his wand to dry himself off.

When he was finally dry, he looked up at you and smirked before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the Black Lake. It was frozen but you were absolutely terrified of the ice cracking and falling into the cold water. Just thinking about it sent shivers down your spine as he walked closer to the frozen lake.

“Do you trust me?” He turned around to ask you, standing at the edge of the frozen lake. Had this been someone else, you would’ve broken free of their grasp and run back to your dorm but he was different. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt safe around him. It was an odd feeling.

Simply nodding, he smiled before carefully stepping onto the ice. He laughed as he felt your grip on his arm tightened as the two of you walked further on the ice.

“Regulus what are we doing?” You questioned as he continued to lead you away from the shore.

“Ice-skating, I think. I’ve overheard my brother talk about doing it with his friends and figured I’d give it a try.” He replied with a shrug.

You abruptly stopped in your steps and arched a brow at him as you asked: “You’re telling me that we’re currently ice-skating?”

Regulus cocked his head to the side slightly. “Are we doing it wrong?”

“Ice-skating Reg, it’s in the name. We need skates.” You replied and a look of realization dawned on him. He knew that it felt odd for muggles to do this sport with normal footwear but he just hadn’t realized what he was missing.

“I was wondering why we weren’t going as graceful.” He said under his breath, causing you to chuckle. “Well, right or wrong, I think we’ve had enough ice-skating for today. Come on you must be freezing.”

He grabbed your arm again and started walking back towards the shore. A mistake in this action though was that he didn’t give you enough time to react before he was pulling your arm. This resulted in you losing your balance and slipping on the ice but thankfully, his fast reflexes had you balanced on both feet as Regulus held you by the waist.

“Are you alright?” The playful teasing expression had now been replaced by a wide eyed look of concern as he moved his hands to rest on your shoulders as if to further steady you. He searched your eyes for any sign telling him that you weren’t okay. Thankfully, there were none and he sighed in relief and pulled you into his chest.

Far too intoxicated in his scent, you hadn’t realized that you were shivering until he pointed it out and began to cautiously head back inside. Lightly tugging on your jacket, the two of you got off the ice and back onto the solid ground. As you walked back you couldn’t help but question that feeling you felt whenever you were with him.

It was the feeling you felt when you were having a snowball fight with him. The feeling you felt when he laughed and his eyes would light up. It was the feeling you felt when you were around him and what you felt when he caught you on the ice and looked at you. The moment that happened just a few seconds ago replayed in your mind and you doubt that it’d ever stop. It made you feel warm and safe, mortal even.

You didn’t even realize you were back inside until you heard a voice call out from down the hallway in front of you.

“Mr Black and Ms (Y/L/N) aren’t you supposed to be in Herbology?” It was McGonagall. Shit.

Turning the opposite way, the two of you ran down the hall and turned the corner towards the Dungeons. Teacher or not, you both doubted she would enter the Slytherin’s Common Room.

“Blimey Black, if I wanted to warm up I would’ve rather set myself on fire.” You huffed as you tried to catch your breath. “And how are you not out of breath? I feel like I’m dying.” You had just run nearly halfway across the castle and Regulus wasn’t gasping for air like you who was hunched over the couch, quite dramatically as well you might add.

The boy in front of you rolled his eyes at your exaggeration before sitting down on one of the couches and patting the seat beside him, gesturing for you to sit down beside him. With a flick of his wand, a fire was lit in the fireplace allowing both light and warmth to fill the dark Common Room the Slytherin’s had. You always wondered why Salazar decided to place the Common Room in the Dungeons out of all places. A tower would’ve been much nicer, warmer even, but it seems as his blueprint for Common Rooms was different compared to the other founders.

As you sat down beside him, he pulled you closer towards him so that you were resting on his chest as his arms were wrapped protectively around you. “Better?” He asked and smiled and you hummed in response.

His fingers were tangled in your hair as he hummed a song. That combined with the sound of the fire crackling in front of you were enough to pull you to sleep. When you woke up the next morning you were still in the Slytherin Common Room but the fire was now out and there was a blanket on top of you. You were also laying on something that was most definitely not the couch since you could feel arms loosely wrapped around your stomach.

Sitting up you noticed that the sun was just starting to rise but that wasn’t what shocked you. It was the fact that you had fallen asleep on top of Regulus and that he stayed there until he too fell asleep. He could’ve just left you on the couch to go to sleep or ask one of your friends to take you to your dorm so why did he stay?

“(Y/N)?” You heard him mumble groggily. Whipping your head around you saw Regulus still very much asleep, or at least he looked like he was. His eyes were still closed and his black curly locks were a mess, something he wouldn’t have accepted if he was awake. He was always thought to look presentable at all times.

Shrugging off your previous thoughts you smiled down at him and intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m here Reg.”

He stirred a bit and his grip on your hand became firmer before light snores were heard from him.

“What are you doing to me?” You mumbled as you pushed a few strands of hair off his face. It was that same feeling. That warm feeling that just made you yearn to be with him, it was back. This time much stronger but back nonetheless.

It took you awhile but you did realize what he was doing to you: he was making you fall for him. You didn’t know if it was intentionally or not but what you did know was that it was working.

You were falling in love and it was absolutely terrifying.

Despite your curse and the known outcome, Regulus treasured every single second he was able to share with you. The relationship lasted two years, ending a few months after you both graduated from Hogwarts due to his discovery upon Voldemort. Aside from Kreacher, you were the only person who knew the truth about Regulus Black and what happened to him. Not even his brother or parents knew what had happened to him but that’s how it would stay. The world wouldn’t know about the boy who died trying to right his wrongs.

After his passing though, you couldn’t bring yourself to move on. It didn’t feel right and with all the pain that came with it you doubted you’d ever allow yourself to fall in-love again.

So as years went by and the world continued to move on, you were stuck on that boy from 1976.

[rocorambles]

Finding Home

Pairing: Terushima x Reader

Prompt: Mythology

Genre: SFW, Fluff, Slight Angst, Greek Mythology AU, Dionysus!Terushima, Human!Reader

Summary: Terushima has never liked winter, the land too barren to produce his prized grapes, the weather too harsh for the merrymaking he’s known for. But maybe, just maybe, a certain mortal can help change his perspective.   

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Friday, March 12th!) 

Terushima has never really belonged here and even after centuries and lifetimes, he doesn’t feel any more a part of Olympus than when he first joined the ranks of the gods and goddesses above as Dionysus, protector of misfits. 

He scoffs at the title. How fitting when he himself is a misfit among the beings of Olympus, the son of a mortal mother, a “human-lover” (a title he’s actually quite fond of despite the disdain and judgement tainting it when spoken by those around him). Ironic when he dares say most of his fellow divine beings have had more than their fair shares of “loving humans”. It’s how he was created himself after all and he scowls at the thought of the handsome brunette who he unfortunately is forced to call father. 

One would think that with all the affairs Zeus, or Shittykawa as he prefers to refer to him as, nickname courtesy of Poseidon, is off and about having, the king of the gods wouldn’t be so stringent and watchful over his kingdom above. But as free with his affection as he is, Oikawa is a stickler for tradition and Terushima sighs as he enters the gates of Olympus, plastering his trademark cocky grin on his face as he greets his family. 

It’s ironic really how Oikawa insists on these family reunions considering how they hardly really consider each other family. But no one dares to disobey and they all force themselves through the polite small talk, extravagant meals, and elegant parties, everything so detailed and beautiful yet cold, much like their organizer, and Terushima skin practically crawls at how different this is from his much more impassioned festivities, never used to how restrained the manners of Olympus are despite how many of these he has attended. 

But it’s not all so terrible and this time he doesn’t fake his wide toothy grin when two beings burst into his quarters late at night. 

He’s not foolish enough to believe Apollo and Ares are the strapping gods they’re portrayed to be, knowing too well just how monstrous and terrifying the two can be, knowing the atrocious acts they’ve committed. But as brothers? As fellow gods? They make Olympus bearable and that’s more than can be said for anyone else. So he sets aside their differences temporarily, humming along to the sound of Apollo’s music, laughingly joking that his talent for songs is the only reason women and goddesses look past the rooster-like mess on top of his head. He drinks goblet after goblet of mead with Ares in an attempt to see who can outdrink the other this time around, not stopping until his vision is so blurred that he can hardly tell if it really is Ares in front of him or a large owl with vaguely human features. 

But as soon as sunlight begins filtering in marking a new day and the end of his forced return, he’s quick to bid farewell, nose diving back down to Earth and immediately feeling more at peace as he lands in a flourishing rice field, slowly making his way to the quaint home just ahead. 

It’s an admittedly strange camaraderie, the friendship between the God of Chaos and a demi-god son of Demeter, but Terushima’s heart swells with fondness when he sees Kita sifting through the grains of his latest harvest, chuckling at the slightly quirked lips on the other’s usually impassive face when he sees the blonde making his way towards him. 

He knows the other Olympus immortals find it strange how he prefers to spend most of his time on Earth, whispering and spreading rumors about the strange god who so easily casts aside the splendor of Olympus for the humble life and home of a farmer, who prefers to idle his days away with humans and a demi-god rather than his own much more powerful and esteemed family up above. And he knows even Kita has his doubts and disagreements with the wild debauchery and havoc he wreaks upon the mortal world, preferring his mother’s more wholesome ways of providing and caring for humans. 

But both of them are tied by their kindness and benevolence towards mankind, frowning upon the hostility, cruelty, and selfishness the other gods and goddesses subject humans to. And Kita never says a word against Terushima, knowing that even if they aren’t methods he understands or condones, Terushima’s rituals and revelries bring joy, provide an escape, take away the suffering of mortals, even if only temporarily.    

Besides, the demi-god is far too busy with helping Demeter prepare for the harvest to really pay much mind to Terushima’s antics, flitting here and there as he helps ensure the earth is fertile, making sure grains and seeds are plentiful, working seamlessly alongside Terushima as the god of wine cheerfully goes about making sure there’s more than an adequate amount of ripe grapes and fruits for wine making and merriment. 

As far as Terushima is concerned, Olympus can keep its cold splendor. Here is where he was meant to be, thriving in the heat and brilliant light of the sun, sighing in content as he pops grape after grape in his mouth, the sweet juices coating his mouth as he watches the humans in amusement as they excitedly crush the small fruits, making the beverage he had shown their ancestors long ago how to create.

And then the harvest is officially upon them and Terushima joyfully cheers as his followers indulge in the delicious nectar of their hard work, wine sloshing from cups as music blares, the earth resounding with raucous ecstatic celebrations and the stomping of feet as mankind wildly dances and jumps around. 

It’s a wild frenzy and Kita slightly winces at the chaos that has overtaken the world, but it’s hard not to look on in affection and amusement as the humans and his dear friend enjoy themselves, finding temporary freedom and escape from the restraints of society. So he lets them be, spending time with his mother as she also enjoys the festivities of her followers (albeit much more demure), glad to see both Terushima and her in high spirits, knowing the hardest part of the year for both of them is just around the corner. 

A practical person might scoff at Demeter’s extreme reaction every time Hades comes to retrieve her daughter, but there’s nothing rational about a mother’s love and the world turns dead and cold as the goddess grieves and mourns the loss of her daughter, even though she knows it’s only temporary. 

Terushima sighs at the cold white snow and ice that blankets the barren grounds, feeling his own vitality drain from him when the majority of the revelries come to an end as the humans prepare for the harsh winter months ahead. He hates the mortal world when it’s like this, finding the cold quiet far too similar to Olympus and he sulks, retreating and staying put inside his shared abode with Kita, impatiently waiting for Persephone to return to her mother so that the world can defrost and resume. 

Kita is patient at first, alternating between checking in on his mother and Terushima, ensuring both great gods of the Earth are alive and well. Although “well” is a relative term and the demi-god sighs at how both their depression and grief permeate throughout the world, adding an icier edge to the already brutal atmosphere. However even his patience has a limit and though he doesn’t dare disrespect his mother, he shoves at least the god of the vine out the door, shooing him towards the nearest town and telling him not to return until he’s in a better mood. 

The blonde listens, albeit reluctantly and with a few muttered grumblings, but it’s a nice distraction, wandering around and masquerading as a human. And although he’s not in the mood to join in, he appreciates how advanced civilizations and technology have become, allowing those brave enough to face the harsh frigid weather to frolic at bars, even if it means being bundled in layers and layers of winter clothing. It isn’t anything near as rambunctious and lively as the harvest season, but he feels his mood lighten as the streets are roused by drunken and rowdy crowds, laughter and cheer filling the cold air. 

Feeling more himself after a few hours of amusedly observing from afar, a steaming mug of mulled wine in his hands, he begins to turn around and make his way back home only to be interrupted as someone crashes into him and instincts have him catching you as you tipsily stumble and giggle in his arms. He can smell the sweet scent of wine rolling off of you in waves and he fights back the urge to laugh as you sloppily smile, clinging onto him for dear life as you try and steady yourself on wobbly legs while you simultaneously thank your hero for saving you. 

Humans really are the most adorable things sometimes.

He’s a bit apprehensive about just leaving you when you’re in such a state, but he relaxes when your friends rush to your aid, profusely apologizing to him as he carefully hands you over to them and he just waves them off, telling them to have fun as he makes to walk away again. But he’s stopped by your hands still holding tight to him. 

“Come party with us!” 

This time he does laugh as one of your friends angrily admonishes you for your behavior and he gently tries to loosen your grip on him, telling you empty promises of “maybe next time”. But he freezes when one of your hands he’s managed to unhook from him softly rests on his cheek and he chokes at the genuine concern in your eyes despite the drunken haze in them. 

“You look so sad...Please stay? Maybe it’ll make you feel better.” 

The words are childish and slurred, yet Terushima is moved by the pure intentions he can sense in the syllables, drawn in by the heart and love he can feel pouring from you. All his life he has cared for others, cared for the world. But when was the last time someone had cared for him? When was the last time he had allowed someone to care for him? 

So in a moment of weakness he allows himself to let go of his responsibilities, his duties, his own walls and rules he had created to maintain a distance from the mortals he oversees in an effort to avoid dragging them into the messes caused by diving beings, to make sure no one else is subjected to what his own mortal mother suffered through because of Oikawa’s selfish desires. 

It’s ironic how little a god known as the liberator allows himself to be free, usually preferring to watch from afar and not partake in the frenzied chaos of his followers. But tonight he joins in, entangling himself among the throngs of bodies moving to the vibrating pulses of echoing music and beats, submitting to the wild energy around him, pretending just for a moment that he’s finally found where he belongs. 

You make it easy for him to believe he’s found a new home, a place he’s accepted, and even amidst the blinding lights and smoky haze, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, your liveliness, energy, and humanity far outshining any of the gods or goddesses he knows. There’s nothing reserved or distant about you, no feeling of someone keeping up pretences or a front. You’re just...you and he knows even without the help of liquid courage you’ve generously doused yourself with tonight, that you wouldn’t be all that different. 

Maybe a little less handsy and definitely quieter (he subtly winces when you practically shout in his ear asking if he wants another drink). But the genuine warmth and kindness he can feel radiating from you? Your easy and uninhibited acceptance of him? That’s just who you are and he allows himself to find temporary comfort in this new sense of belonging you make him feel.  

Despite how he’s sworn to never rope a human into the twisted world of immortals, for the first time in his life, he feels the temptation to break the promise he had made to himself all those centuries ago. 

But it’s a pipe dream and as dawn’s light begins to peek through the night sky and clubs and bars close shop, reality comes crashing down on him. He remains steadfast in his beliefs, promising himself that he’ll leave and forget all about you as soon as he’s made sure you’re safely tucked in bed despite the desperate pleas and cries of his heart. And he grits his teeth as he fights to ignore his desires. 

He’s stronger than this. He’s better than this. Above the immoral lust his family is infamous for. Above the preying ways of Oikawa. 

Or so he’d like to believe. 

But he can’t help himself from sitting at your bedside, gazing down at your peaceful face, finding comfort in your deep even breaths as sleep overcomes you, telling himself that he’ll be just another minute, over and over again, until he’s forced to his feet hours later as you begin to rise. And as he makes his escape before you can awaken and see him, he knows that he’ll never be able to fully forget you.

Sometimes Kita is far too observant for his own good and Terushima groans when he’s immediately pinned down by curious knowing eyes as soon as he walks through the front doors. But he’s never been good at keeping his thoughts to himself and he rambles, spilling every little detail (probably too many details) to the demi-god who patiently listens and brews a pot of soothing hot tea that Terushima greedily grabs and indulges in as he recounts the night. 

Kita holds his own cup to his lips, hiding the smile playing on his face as the god talks about you, sharp eyes noting the unusual softness in Terushima’s eyes and quietness of his voice as he speaks about you, describing you so perfectly Kita can almost imagine exactly what you look like from his words alone.

But his smile turns into a thoughtful flat line at the sadness in the usually exuberant voice as the blonde tries to lightly wave it off and convince himself that it’s all in the past now, just another mortal he’s happened to interact with in his long life before breaking off into an awkward silence. 

“Terushima, not all relationships between gods and mortals are doomed and cursed.” 

Kita rolls his eyes as the other begins to squawk and flail his arms as he recounts some of the most tragic relationships in Olympus history to prove him wrong, quickly cutting him off after another languid sip of his hot beverage. 

“So do you think the union between my parents was also a mistake?” 

The demi-god smirks as Terushima squirms in his seat, floundering for words, weakly clarifying that he meant the majority, not all. 

“Exactly. Not all relationships between gods and mortals are destined for failure and we all know you’re certainly not like most gods. So if anyone were to beat those odds, I’d say it would have to be you.” 

Kita Shinsuke does not mince words. He does not care to flatter even the most supreme beings with unwarranted and undeserved pleasantries. He only calmly speaks his truth. So despite how casually the words are thrown, as if the demi-god was just mentioning the weather or how his day was, Terushima gapes at his long-time friend, letting the true weight of their meaning sink in. 

Not like most gods. 

Terushima has been called an outsider by both gods and humans alike his entire life, but for once, the title feels like something to be proud of, to hold his head up high and triumphantly proclaim, and he blinks back the tears threatening to slip from the corner of his eyes as he shakily returns the warm smile on Kita’s face, choking out a laugh between his sniffles at the demi-god’s next words.

“You’re not your father, Terushima. Don’t let Zeus- What does Poseidon call him these days? Ah yes, don’t give Shittykawa the satisfaction of ruining your chance at love and happiness.” 

It’s startling, absurd really, to hear the foul nickname from Kita’s usually polite and mannerly mouth, but it drives home his point that much more and almond eyes glint with steely resolve. 

If Kita notices how Terushima rarely spends the night in their shared home anymore despite how he’d practically hibernated in his room during past winters, he doesn’t say anything.

If he notices how much more energetic and boisterous the god is despite the barren lands and frigid weather that would normally have dampened his spirits, he doesn’t comment on it. 

And if he just happens to accidentally meander around town and see a familiar blonde figure whose hand is interlaced with a mortal woman’s hand, he chalks it up to pure coincidence and certainly not because his curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

Kita Shinsuke is not nosy, even if the pictures he secretly takes of the couple and proudly develops, frames, and gifts to the god of wine during the holidays that year say otherwise.

It’s Terushima’s favorite and only gift he’s ever received during the human holiday season (although that quickly changes after he makes things official with you) and the first thing he hangs up on the walls of your shared bedroom years down the line when you move in together. 

And as he holds you in his arms and fondly smiles at the photos on the wall, reminiscing on the beginning of this joint journey with you, he thinks that winters aren’t so bad after all, affectionately kissing the top of your head as you snuggle and squirm closer to his body heat, slightly jostled by him adjusting and retucking both of you back in your warm and cozy blanket cocoon protecting you from the chilly air.  

He waits for you to settle back into a restful slumber before letting his own eyes drift shut once again, melting into the bedsheets and embrace of a place and person he can finally call home. 

[phoenixtakaramono]

Hi! :) I was reading your post about SQH in TUT and it got me thinking. Since this version also wrote SVSSS, when he transmigrates does he realize his "dream" was real? Also, you hinted that he recognizes SY as the same person who transmigrated into SQQ, so now I'm wondering if he tells SY that, and how SY would react to learning he's the protagonist of SVSSS in another universe. I just love thinking about how meta this could potentially get, haha.

Can't wait to find out more! Keep up the good work!

(Follow-Up Post to: Part I, Part II)

@the-legend-of-chel 👏👏👏 Luv, good to see you in my Asks! I’m glad to hear that you’re looking forward to finding out more in The Untold Tale! And thanks for your support and encouragement. 💖

(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)

You’re right. There is a lot of meta potential with older!Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky being the MXTX equivalent in this AU—or, rather, I like to imagine him growing up to be the Stephen King equivalent of modern day China with a prolific portfolio of written works (novels and short stories, and extras). In canon, he churned out a great number of words per chapter and in a speedy amount of time! Do you guys know how miraculous that is, as a writer? I envy him so much! To be able to churn out that much content in a short amount of time, and in a scheduled regimen, is amazing! That’s basically my angle having written this into the prologue of TUT. That’s partially the reason why I wrote ch1. I liked the idea of paying homage to SVSSS and saying that it’s an actual book series in TUT universe that Airplane wrote (as funny as the idea would be, I wasn’t about to let SY be the one to write it, lol, for intellectual property reasons since the PIDW characters belong to Airplane, which would necessitate SY changing names and character appearances if he published what we know as irl SVSSS, so the best I can give SY is saying he wrote his own PIDW fanfic which basically launched his novelist career because he’d realized, hey, I actually have a knack for writing and the ever so spiteful I feel like practically every writer has had this thought before: fine, if I don’t see what I want to read, then I’ll write it myself!)

(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)

We’re approaching TUT spoiler territory so skip below if you don’t wish to be spoiled.

TUT (Meta) Spoilers

I personally love meta. If I’m to be writing a lovestory to SVSSS, there will be attempts at meta thrown into TUT. And this is one of them:

Airplane did “dream” about canon SVSSS. He basically “dreamt” about his favorite black powder fan, Peerless Cucumber

changing events of Airplane’s biggest regret Proud Immortal Demon Way. (As a writer, it embarrasses me to read my old writing. So I imagine it could be the same for Airplane.) As an author, Airplane recognized what he dreamt had potential to be a commercial success as a danmei transmigration story so basically every time he woke up, he would write pieces of what he remembers in a dream journal when the memory was fresh in his brain. It also allowed Airplane the opportunity to show his readers through the perspective of SY! Shen Qingqiu what Airplane had originally wanted to write, but integrated in a way that blends seamlessly into the reading experience. He would’ve thought it was a bit weird and strange that his brain dreamt about his past critic—whom he’d considered a small celebrity in the PIDW forums back then—aka his anti-fan-turned-accomplished-novelist in the writing industry, so he felt embarrassed that his unconscious brain must have thought very highly of the man.

So Airplane omitted any mention of Peerless Cucumber from the final draft of SVSSS (if he mentioned both “Shen Yuan” and “Peerless Cucumber,” then even SY would be like, Hey, wait one moment....). This detail will be included in a later chapter, but did you know the name “Shen Yuan” has come up in other works? Let’s ignore the variations on the Chinese written characters for the name “Shen Yuan.” There was the evil older brother character Shen Yuan from The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage, a side character named Shen Yuan from a C-drama (I think he was an old minister?), and there’s even an irl visual artist named Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan (Shen Garden) is also a famous romantic garden in Shaoxing, known for the love story between Lu You and Tang Wan.

(Shen Yuan Garden - Trip Advisor Review)

Basically “Shen Yuan” in itself is not a particularly uncommon name in China (imo I would not say it’s super popular either). So when SY saw his name mentioned once or twice in Airplane’s SVSSS—aka rebooted PIDW—during his read-through, he was like, Huh, what a strange coincidence. And then dismissed it as circumstantial and thought nothing of seeing his name come up in a cutsleeve novel as the new protagonist, haha. It’s like a book written by Anne Rice; one of the titles coincidentally has the same name as mine. Now, obviously the book and main character is not based or inspired by me; I just coincidentally share the same name. If I see books which have characters with my same first name, generally I like to read them and sometimes even collect them for my bookshelves. Because there’s something just so fun and interesting about seeing your own name in a fictional piece of work.

There’s also meta joke potential about Airplane dreaming of himself being transmigrated into the cannon fodder Shang Qinghua and seeing the romantic miscommunications between the younger version of himself (his self-insert essentially) and the fictional Mobei jūn character. I can certainly say seeing such dreams would make Airplane question his sexuality and awaken something dormant in him, haha. He’d realize he might not be not as straight as he thought he was, if his brain was capable of dreaming of SY!SQQ being crushed on by LBH, and SQH being crushed on by MBJ and essentially following MBJ around calling him “my king” this and “my king” that. He’ll be sweating bullets when he meets this world’s version of MBJ, because Airplane will definitely remember how the younger Self-Insert version of himself acted toward MBJ in the SVSSS world. (It’s the classic “Just because I dreamed about it happening doesn’t mean it’ll happen here, right? ...Right? Cucumber brother, you’re a fortuneteller! Please check our eight characters for me! I have to know my marriage compatibility with Mobei jūn!”)

In a later chapter, there will be the reveal where Airplane tells Shen Yuan that he “dreamt” of a universe where a younger version of Shen Yuan—having choked on mantou (馒头) (paying homage to the donghua) or just being transmigrated in general after raging at a younger ASTTS’s writing (paying homage to the books)—transmigrated into the Shen Qingqiu we know from SVSSS who married Bing mèi. Because I think it will be hilarious when TUT’s SY finds out about the true source of Airplane’s inspiration, and he’ll naturally freak out over the fact that this is the very same Bing gē from Airplane’s Bing-gē vs Bing-mèi extra and that he’s essentially somehow stumbled on the same path as the alternative younger SY!SQQ “from Airplane’s imagination.” I will leave this open to interpretation if this does show up (it’s just an idea I’m playing with) but I might hint that there might be a higher power at play which allowed Airplane a peek into another universe—which manifested as his dreams.

I very much like this dynamic (we might see this exchange, verbatim, in a future chapter in TUT):

SY/ LBH —> He gave him a disdainful gaze.

Airplane cried inwardly at the oppression and the feeling of being wronged.

Haha, none of this is really Airplane’s fault^ though. It’s a fun parallel and if I’m still motivated when we get to the wedding and consummation chapter, we might see an epilogue where SY and Bing gē from TUT meets SY!SQQ and Bing mèi maybe. Because I think it’ll be funny with the two LBHs getting into a shouting/ fighting match about who has the “superior Shen Yuan” while the two SYs just shake their heads at their silly husbands (and potentially TUT’s SY, as the older party, can impart his fortunetelling wisdom and advice to SY!SQQ).

Personally I can’t wait when we get to those chapters, because I know it’ll be entertaining to write, haha. Personally TUT is a fun project because there’s just so much meta potential that can be incorporated and I have a lot of fun imagining the scenarios.

*Note: like always, keep in mind that these are just my current thoughts. Details are subject to change; things aren’t considered official until they show up in the final draft on AO3. :)

The Novelists’ First Impressions

The first impression SY and Airplane will have of each other will be fun. Because in their perspective, written in my notes it’s essentially like:

(Airplane seeing SY):

His first reaction was shock. Shock because the mere mortal he used to be could not conceive so much charisma being emitted by this guy.

This is definitely a man who had put all of his stats into CHARISMA.

(SY seeing Airplane):

He's suspiciously good looking in ways that normal people are not.

Ah, the Cucumberplane friendship in TUT is going to be so much fun. Not only are these two older souls who transmigrated (both are mid-aged in this universe), they’re both accomplished novelists in their own right in the writing industry. Which means with these two being celestial beings, there’s so many clichés we can playfully poke fun at.

It also makes me laugh because imagine being SY, and seeing a guy (mortal!Airplane) who exudes the same energy as these two imperial princes GIFs:

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Gibbous Chapter 9

Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill

Summary:  It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety

Chapter Word-Count: 5503

Warnings:  Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)

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Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.

Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!

-

In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.

Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.

One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.

Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.

Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.

Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.

Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.

Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.

He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.

His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.

“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”

“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”

“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”

 -

It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.

 Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.

The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.

“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”

“Well no but—”

“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”

As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.

Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.

Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.

Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.

A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”

Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.

“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.

“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”

Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.

“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”

“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.

Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.

 Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.

His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.

“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”

“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”

Virgil stared at him.

Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”

“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.

He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.

Four New Text Notifications from Patton

Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]

Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??

Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??

Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?

Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.

Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.

But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.

His phone buzzed with a new text notification.

Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?

Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.

Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.

The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.

Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.

This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?

Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.

���Hi?” He whispered.

“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”

Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”

“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”

This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.

Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.

“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.

“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.

“And how did you know I was in here?”

“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”

“O-oh.”

“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”

“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.

He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.

“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”

“Right here, in the restroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”

“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.

“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”

Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.

Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.

“Alright, fine.”

Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.

Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.

Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.

Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”

If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.

And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?

“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.

He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.

Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.

A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.

“Remy—”

“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.

Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”

“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.

“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just  picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.

Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.

“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”

“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”

She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”

Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—

He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.

Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.

Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.

He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.

He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.

“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step  forward.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What do you mean—”

“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady—Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”

Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”

“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.

Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?

“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?

“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.

“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”

“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”

“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”

“Is what?”

“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.

If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.

“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.

“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.

A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—

Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.

 Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.

“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”

Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.

Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.

 Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.

Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.

Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress. 

Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine

-

A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

part 12

ink was getting nervous. Error was coming by at night, and since every other vampire was sleeping, he couldn’t do anything but wait in his garden-

Something wasn’t quite normal with error. He looked pretty anxious, wary even-

 Ink sighed. Life was so empty- not even death could fix that

 He discovered that over time, most vampires could get used to the sunlight after being exposed to it very lightly. He also noticed that vampires couldn’t be murdered unless they were shot or stabbed in the soul

He not only wasn’t affected by the sunlight in the first place, but he had no soul to begin with-

Death wasn’t an option.

Boredom was the only thing that was “killing” him

 Ever since he could remember, life was always so boring

 Empty

 Without any goal to achieve or get going with

 He clenched his fists

The only thing that was following him around and that let him stay alive was…

 Guilt

 For something he could never forgive himself for

Maybe he could fix it?

 He didn’t want to think about it now-

 He traveled inside his garden, wandering around his maze, then sat down near some bushes

He was an immortal being with barely no will to live, but he did have a passion to stay sane

And it ended up being art.

Painting, sewing, designing, sculpting-

Creating was a nice compensation for destroying everyone’s lives…

 Now that he was thinking about it…

…….

 Wait, who was that?!

 Ink noticed a shadow fly away from his garden. ‘Right when he had some inspiration to draw’. He ran to them, but he realized they already left.

It was probably another vampire, but the vast majority preferred to go out at night since they won’t be so visible to the mortals. Though it was unusual for a one to fly off so fast and early in the morning. The sun was bright, and even he felt pretty nauseous staying on spot without anything to shield himself from the heat of it.

Even so, he stared at his surroundings, curious to see if the person left something, when he noticed a crispy letter on the grass.

Ink sighed, who could it beee?

He painfully leaned down to catch the letter, and opened it.

Right, it was him.

Just when he thought he’ll get to talk to him personally-

He sat down and read the long paragraph that decorated its paper.

 …

 “…oh-“

 He got up and dusted off his clothes from the remaining dirt and leaves that stuck to him, then trailed off to his castle-

 “Looks like the meeting is still ongoing”

 ******

 His steps were heavy,

And he was getting weaker-

He collapsed on the ground

It was so painful to be alive

And he hated it

He HATED ink for what he did!

He-

He…

….

Well, the forest wasn’t a good place to fall unconscious in, so he painfully got himself up.

He could hate ink all he wanted, but the mortals were even worse

If only he could just KILL THEM ALL

ALL OF THEM

Ugh-

 “…”

 Huh

Crying?

Him?

Out of character, right?

He wiped away the tears that were slowly forming themselves in his sockets. He had to- he had to go and ask for help like the idiot that he is! He…he didn’t want him to-

…

Die? Who? What the flip was he even doing in that forest anyways?!

Oh yeah, heal himself

Obviously

He sat by a tree and painfully tightened the holes and scars with bandages after carefully removing the bullets and disinfecting the injuries with his magic. He really didn’t want to see him again,

But he didn’t have a choice anymore

********

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

*tap*

He sat on his sofa, slowly waiting for his guest’s arrival in front of his large window.

He closed his eyes patiently, then sighed calmly

 “nice seeing you again, error”

His silhouette slowly appeared in front of him, threatening as always.

“…”

He looked away, a frown still in place.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to see me, but god can you be stubborn!” ink pouted. They knew each other for years, but one thing that didn’t change was the fact that error was never happy to see him

Nor to spend time with him

Actually, the times where he’ll be “happy” is when he almost “kills” him, or when he leaves-

Yeah, a nice “friendship”

“I swear if it wasn’t for an important reason I would’ve never stepped a toe in your hell of a castle!”

“but you still came here. And I’m sorry if I am worried about this reason that’s so important it actually made you sit here, and talk to me for once.”

Error flinched at his sarcastic tone, and he thought about giving a spiteful remark back, but he sat on the sofa in front of him, directly facing the window, choosing to ignore his off handed retorts to leave that place as soon as possible.

“… well-“ error tried to collect his words, obviously tired of what had happened to him this past weeks.

“there is a small town very far away from here who sent a…detective? Spy? Whatever, A trained mortal to hunt down the vampires while being hidden amongst the normal villagers, and he’s been very wary of YOU especially.”

“He had been giving some “ideas” to the mortals, and if he manages to convince them to overthrow your rules and influence, he’ll quickly discover your intentions and the hidden place of multiple thousands of vampire, causing the extinction of the race in a second. And while I flipping hate your guts and I despise you all so much, vampires and mortals alike, I can’t really be all that powerful and safe when the humans can win over me; the amount of vampires decreasing giving them “courage” to kill the remaining.”

He stated the last sentence with disgust. He didn’t give two cents about vampires, even less monsters or even humans, which he hates even more, but ink’s motives were vastly different

ink loved vampires, because he had to; Being the original vampire who first existed. He was the reason so many mortals turned into those people, feared by the pitiful society called the living. And just like that he and the other vampires that followed began growing stronger in number and power.

You could say that he didn’t have a choice- that it was in his nature; he’s a vampire! He can’t help but drink blood, in the case of monsters, magic-

But

No

Not only can vampires resist the urge to drink blood, by simply eating meat, but in ink’s case

He doesn’t even like drinking blood nor magic

He was more into literal ink

The only reason he drank blood in the first place was to get feelings

The first vampire didn’t have a chance to get a soul, so he discovered he could get feelings another way.

And he despised doing that

Because

Of how he discovered

That-

“INK!”

Ink looked at error, realizing he must’ve been daydreaming for too long

“…”

Ink got up, then undressed himself from his coat.

“Huh? What the he- what are you doing???”

“Well, suffice to say we’re going to catch that little comedian and eliminate him as soon as we can”

Error didn’t expect such bluntness from ink, but he couldn’t care less about that, more like, he was caught off guard by the “we”

“Hey, hey, hey- this is YOUR job, mister! It is not my business to attend”

Ink looked back at him, and gave him a warm smile

“Didn’t you say earlier it affected you if all the race disappeared? Wouldn’t you want to stop that from happening? I might add that you wouldn’t come here unless you really had to, so is it just for a message or did you need my help?”

He hated it when ink gets smart

But at the same time he was right

Though there was still another reason on top of it all, but he kept his mouth sealed

That bastard didn’t need to know

“…fine. What to do now”

Ink’s smirk became predatory

“What makes you think we’ll need to do anything?”

Error flinched

“What?”

Ink giggled-

“Well, it’s getting quite late don’t you think?”

Error looked back at the window, the moon shining bright in a cold, dark night

“Ink! I need answers!”

Ink paused his laughing, then smiled

“I’ll tell you more about it if you’ll be my guest.”

He bowed slightly, still keeping eye contact with the other

Error tensed- he didn’t know what to do now

“…is this a trap?”

Ink looked surprised at that statement, but quickly rectified

“Not at all!”

“Then what makes me believe that you’re not going to kill me in my sleep!”

Ink paused a second, kind of offended by the other’s skepticism when he just wanted to welcome him

Well, guess it can’t be helped

“I promise you that I will answer your questions tomorrow, It’s just that you might be exhausted from the constant travelling- the bruises and scars look like they just need a bit of attention, and you-“

He trailed off, citing multiple reasons why he needed a shelter from him, and error quickly cut him off

“Okay- okay- I get it”

It did make him feel a bit better though, considering ink takes his promises very seriously, so he might as well stay for a night

“Just ONE night”

He crossed his arms, and ink chuckled

“Sure, sure-“

He smiled

“Goodnight then, error”

*******

“well, how about we talk more about it in a more...private environment, yes?”

**********

ink belongs to @comyet​/ @myebi​

error belongs to @loverofpiggies​

dark cream belongs to @zu-is-here​

well, it took a while to update you guys, but i’m really happy about it!

error holds a huge grudge against ink- what is it? still haven’t finished that part yet guys ;D

also, the illustration is a spoiler for the next part focusing about ink, but as they say- it’s not a real spoiler if you have no context right ;)?

((remind me not to paint an illustration for a writing i haven’t updated in a while it just makes it worse))

also, the reason i haven’t drawn error once is because i can’t decide on a design he often hides his face with a very dark cape. i will give you guys a sheet with everyone’s faces (protagonists only) their mouths (the difference between their fangs) and their markings/eyelights

very exited to write more about ink though- it’s going to get interesting very soon ;)

first- previous- next

[lunar-magnolia]

@honestlyshamelesscollector thank you for asking me this!! I'm really happy to share my thoughts, I hope to answer your questions in the best way possible akdjsk

I absolutely agree with you about Xie Lian. He does indeed grow a lot, even though he does so in a traumatic way.

***A little disclaimer: these are just my thoughts here, first impressions having read the novel once, plus watched the donghua and read the manhua a couple of times. I'm no expert at all, but I have lots of feelings about this akdjskfmf

**Putting a read more because long lmao

Young Xie Lian's dream was to become a god and save the common people. And present Xie Lian does it everyday, as much as he can. The biggest lesson he got growing up was probably the fact that he can't save everyone at the same time, but saving (or helping) even just one person was enough. He might be a god, but he is still one person. Having godly powers doesn't make him omniscient or give him the ability to suddenly work on a bigger scale than he could when he was human.

Book 4 in particular highlights just how much the present Xie Lian has changed from the Crown Prince that Pleased The Gods, filled with the idealism of a young man and maybe just a little bit spoiled, to the kind and humble Scrap Immortal that does everything in his power to help the people he comes across.

We see him starting to change as soon as book 2 though. When he tries to both save the Imperial Capital from being invaded and save the Yong'an people from the draught, it's the first time Xie Lian faces the limits of his godly status and power. He divides his time to keep it going for a bit, but in the end he's exhausted and overwhelmed, and he can't do it anymore. Even though he is a god. The inevitable consequences of his own actions and the fall of Xianle challenged his idealism and destroyed his heart so hard that he almost gave in and took his revenge on innocent people. But one person is enough, right?

One could argue that Xie Lian never really had it in him to do it, and I'd probably agree. The whole waiting for someone to help him before releasing the curse, and then trying to sacrifice himself when it eventually was too late to avoid it was enough of an indication for me. It only took the kindness of one person to make him change his heart. If he truly sought revenge, one person wouldn't have been enough. And damn if that didn't ruin Bai Wuxian's plans wonderfully lolll

Xie Lian knew in his heart that the people of Yong'an didn't deserve to pay the price for what happened to Xianle. Even though Bai Wuxian tried (and for a while succeeded) to make him believe it.

Straying from the path that Bai Wuxian wanted him to walk was not as easy as it seems. Bai Wuxian carefully paved all the paths for him, pushed Xie Lian in the directions he wanted him to go with the most violent methods I've ever seen, but Xie Lian always found a way to avoid it, also thanks to Hua Cheng's presence, even when he didn't know it was him (I have so many feelings about that imma cry skfjkefj). Hua Cheng always believed in him and knew what Xie Lian was truly capable of, and boy was he right gdi.

When Xie Lian went through the betrayal of Jun Wu, Hua Cheng's presence reminded him of who Xie Lian is and what he's become. The doubts Bai Wuxian put in his mind, the danger of the Human Face Desease threatening to be freed again, and the resolution to not give in into grief and pain and staying true to the person he had become were again overcome thanks to one person. Xie Lian could have never actually become what Bai Wuxian wanted him to, no matter what he threw at him.

In the end, Xie Lian learnt how to save the common people for real. And he realized that didn't have to do it alone! Instead, the common people themselves were part of the solution (the human array to contain the resentful spirits yknow). It does send an important message, and it's probably the most important thing that Xie Lian learnt: that one person alone cannot save all, if all don't want to be saved. It's a group effort, it takes time and heart and not everyone has it in their heart to risk their lives for the sake of others. Godly powers can only do so much, and a god cannot change fate from above. A god must instead support and protect the people, work with them, give them a boost, and in the end the people will save themselves.

It's a really nuanced and complicated process, I don't know how to explain it properly ajdkfjdl.

It's also worth mentioning that the relationship with Mu Qing and Feng Xin had all the potential to prevent much of what happened to Xie Lian. But just as Xie Lian was young and inexperienced, so were they. And despite all, until Xie Lian stopped thinking of them as servants, he couldn't grow. He had to lose them to truly understand the depth and worth of people believing in him. Which doesn't make it any less painful or sad... Things could have indeed gone differently, but the outcome would have never been the same. I'm glad in the end they kind of sorted it out though.

And the fact that Mu Qing and Feng Xin still cared for Xie Lian when he ascended for the third time was so evident in hindsight. Made me smile when I realized.

Also I liked that in the end Xie Lian didn't go rule the heavens or even go back to it, and instead stayed in the mortal realm to continue doing what he did for the past 800 years. Considering that young Xie Lian said clearly that he wanted to become a god, it's an important thing. It shows that in his mind the concept of gods and their role has changed, and he will stick to his new views despite the possibility of achieving what his young self wanted. Though this isn't just a consequence of book 5, it was shown even earlier when he first visited his palace in the heavens. Xie Lian didn't want to enter it, it made him uncomfortable, and instead sat outside waiting for Shi Qingxuan.

There are so many things to say about Xie Lian but idk if I have the competence to express them all akdjskfj I love his character to bits. His development was not banal in any way, and even though we didn't see all the 800 years it took for him to change, we do feel how gradual that was. Just think of when he met Banyue.

He was still a bit idealistic, telling her that his dream was to save the common people, but he already grew enough of a thick skin to understand when it was worth to pick a fight or not, and he wasn't picky on food (even cooking it himself in his helmet, with outrageous results). It might not seem much, but all things considered, it was a change.

In his first banishment he learnt how hard life was without his Crown Prince status, but he still picked fights with people and refused to eat some things because they weren't as high quality as the food he used to eat at the Royal Palace.

During his second banishment, he learnt to be humble and how problems couldn't be solved with just the right idea. He learnt the grayness of morality and life, how right and wrong are not absolute concepts. He experienced the worst fortune (by his own choice) and learnt how to not let it get to him, how to grow enough of a thick skin to get up each time and not take his frustration out on others.

Truly, Xie Lian is a great character. I have read the novel only one time so far, but I'm planning to reread it soon. So who knows, I might notice more things next time around! This was just my first impression Ahah

As for things I wish that were better explored in the story, I'd say Pei Ming's growth and maybe Ling Wen's motives (though I might have just blinked and missed this last part, because I was still reeling from the Black Water arc lmao).

About Pei Ming, I think he went through a considerable growth since the first time we see him, when he tries to save Little Pei from banishment. At first he gave me the impression of being the usual arrogant womanizer, who would do anything to avoid having his reputation tarnished. But blinking to book 5, we see that he's... Idk, it feels like he's taken that shameless arrogance and put it away, especially after interacting with the Rain Master. Their story is extremely important to his development imo. Their shared past held a place in his heart, and it resurfaced when he met the Rain Master again. I think he was deeply signed by her actions in the past, and he never forgot her.

It's shown when Pei Ming refuses to be saved by the Rain Master and refuses the sword she wants to give to her (which incidentally is the same sword that, yknow, she used to sacrifice herself in front of him back in the days). He says (or better, the people around him say) that it was out of pride, because he couldn't accept that a woman saved him. But he never confirmed or denied it, instead he ran after her "to help".

At the end of the story Pei Ming is not as loud and proud of his reputation as he was in the beginning, instead he seems humbled.

I think the Xuan Ji case also had an important role in his development. Considering how we see her dissolve having found peace after talking/fighting with Pei Ming during the Mount Tong'lu arc, I do think that Pei Ming himself must have reflected on himself a bit too.

He also lost his two best friends, Shi Wudu and Ling Wen, so... Yknow, my hualian ship captain must have had some changes.

Especially when it comes to the Rain Master, I feel there are good basis for a good friendship between them, despite the past. The Rain Master never showed open animosity towards him, instead she helped him. It seemed to me that Pei Ming is the one who believed she hated him, but it was never confirmed.

And maybe if you squint there could be more between them, if you're into that ahah. I wish we could have seen more of his grown version, though I do understand that it happened in the epilogue and the book is already as long as it can be ahaha. So really I'm not that sad it didn't happen, I'm happy that there are signs in the background that "hint" at that instead (if they can be considered hints, idk ahha).

About Ling Wen, ehhhh I want to reserve the right to reread and reconsider. Right now I feel like the Brocade Immortal thing was almost unnecessary? I like her background, how she became the biggest civil goddess of the heavens, but I didn't get why she created the brocade. Again though, I might just go back and reread that part later. Tbh I was reeling really hard after the Black Water arc, so I just blanked on some things akfjskf

Did the Brocade serve any purpose in the end? Aside from being the catalyst of Ling Wen's story arc and being one of the two mighty ghosts in Mount Tong'lu (and also giving that nice hualian scene where Hua Cheng was trying so hard to get kissies from Xie Lian ahaha). Idk, I'd like to hear your thoughts about this!!

I think I rambled enough, if you got to this point wow you're amazing! And thank you for going through this long rant Ahah. I hope it makes some sort of sense! Thank you again for the questions, talking about tgcf made me really happy!

[phenomenalcosmicpowers]

Some Preliminary thoughts on MLP Generation 5

I was considering waiting for a Trailer before speaking on this. I assume one will probably come out any day now, heck the way things are coming out I probably won't be surprised if I end up sort of jinxing things and we get our first trailer smack-dab in the middle of tomorrow or something. But I do want to sort of give my current thoughts heading into G5. As we've gotten alot more tidbits then the rather vague details from the first few months since our first look at the new characters back in Feburary. If we do get a trailer, depending what is shown. Maybe I'll make a follow-up post.

I will first say that I do plan on giving both the movie and series a shot, none of the concerns that I express in this post will make me hesitate in at least checking how the movie and show goes on it's own merits. There is a possibility the movie and/or show ends up being fun despite the underlying concerns I'm about to say. Without further adieu, I'll begin.

((More thoughts after the break))

We are now almost 80 days from the premiere of G5. And most information up until recently have been fairly vague on what exactly is the G5 world. With a brand new cast, and even some vastly different design from the G4 pony design we knew it feels like at least from a visual standpoint that this is supposed to be an entirely new generation. The same way G1 or G3 is not the same universe as G4. However, both some vague information and recent information sort of dropped the bombshell that no, G5 is actually supposed to be in the same world that the G4 Equestria is. Which lets get to the general point of this:

Even if the G4 world that we loved in Friendship is Magic is sort of now this ancient past in which for at least thousands of years there was harmony between all the pony races and non-ponies alike as shown in the future of The Last Problem until perhaps some sort of slow collapse later on happened (Presumably long, long, LOOOOOONG after assumingly everyone of the Main 6 sans Twilight have died from old age). It... might be a bitter pill to swallow for any fan of G4 that loved the show's happy ending. Sure, at the very least it doesn't look like they're trying to say that at some point Twilight failed, as heck Sunny is probably sure to look at Twilight as this legendary hero to aspire to be like. But still, it just doesn't feel like a good look when while I get why G5 is having it's premise of Sunny and the others making the world a better place. Upon seeing the initial synopses of the show. It very much feels like it was Hasbro taking note of last year's George Floyd/BLM Protests. Which I will say is potentially a good direction. But it'd help if this was an entirely new universe that is having this divided world problem. Not a long time after G4 itself ended on the positive note on just about every notable species pony or non-pony alike are living in harmony where Sunny's goal had already basically been achieved.

I get the idea behind having G5 mentioned as the same world as G4. It's an attempt to have their cake and eat it too where they're trying quite a bit new and also try to keep many of the fans of G4 that proved to be a lightning in a bottle. It's a big truth that Friendship is Magic is going to be a hard act to follow even if G5 turns out great on it's own merits. Having an entirely new universe from Hasbro's perspective I also get have some risks. You toss away a world so many people love for one that the fans might find it hard to find an interest in flocking to like the previous one. At the same time though, taking G5 as the far future of G4 runs the risk of heavily feeling like everything Twilight and the Mane 6 did eventually fell to ruin and the ponies became divided again anyway despite the very finale showing they may have very well ended it for good. With even non-pony species part of the harmony that exists.

I guess the counterpoint may be that in if they must have G5 a follow-up in some way of G4. Then there must be some sort of conflict as otherwise the show would feel boring without many villains and/or adventures to save the day going on. The cost of G4's massive success is that no matter what direction they take G5, it's going to be a struggle for it to find the same footing. But what's worse: Making a new world which while it may potentially disinterest fans of G4 with a lack of familiar faces, it can have potential to grow in it's own fashion and maybe just maybe you'll get something of a following even if it's alot smaller. Or possibly saying it's in the same world where the world of Equestria has somehow gotten to the point that it got worse then when Celestia was ruling Equestria by herself (Because at least under Celestia even with Luna banished to the moon and Twilight was either not there yet or still training. The three pony races were generally united as they have been for more then a thousand years. Not segregated as they are implied to be in G5.)

And while it's too early to tell and could easily be still very much a part of G5 is the non-ponies that were featured in the later seasons. Will Changelings, Dragons, Kirins, Hippogriffs, etc. still play a role? Or will it only focus on ponies? Because the less there are of the non-pony species, the less it will feel like this truly is supposed to be the same world of Equestria we knew. Unless you want to say in a really dark direction that most non-pony species went extinct ever since G4 happened. Even if they're never going to explain how Equestria collapsed into the G5 world (Which I have something of a suspicion that they might never explain it completely)

And another question that is sure to follow... are all the Alicorns from G4. Whether it be Celestia, Luna, Twilight, Cadence, or Flurry Heart... all dead at this point? We never really got much lore about Alicorns even throughout all of G4. So while it's certainly still possible that the Alicorns are more mortal then the fans have been led to believe. That doesn't mean it's not an important question to think about. As if this supposed to be a follow-up to G4. G5 is well within it's right to tell us that maybe we overestimated the immortality of the Alicorns, though because G4 never gave us a straight answer... it means it's entirely on G5 to tell us it's own interpretation. No matter what they say will alienate some fans because the topic of Alicorns has always been a touchy subject even before Twilight herself became an Alicorn or even arguably before the introduction of Cadence due to the many, many, fan interpretations of Luna until we finally got a look at canon Luna in Luna Eclipsed and the fear of how many headcanons it'd destroy (Didn't turn out as bad as people thought it would, but just that the fear was there sowed the seeds of what discourse the Alicorns in G4 was going to cause)

Before we got the detail from the book that G4 is considered ancient equestria in G5's world. There was speculation on the possibility that G4 is actually fictional in G5 world. In other words, the G5 world is in fact an entirely new world but in a meta sort of way is a TV show that Sunny and others were a fan of. Which would explain both the changes that are much different from Equestria (With stuff like horn and wings being different colors from the coat) and the fact Sunny had Mane 6 figures and merchandise in her room. This in retrospect might of been the smarter decision because even with the slight possibility of making some G4 fans mad that they're entirely tossing out the previous series and only having it being mentioned in a fictional context. It wouldn't run the risk of overriding the happy ending. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if say if they took that direction they'd pull a Daring Do and have it that yes in fact G4 was once G5's past. But in order to show that, they'd have to bring back the G4 Mane 6 in some fashion. Perhaps in a pulled out of limbo-like fashion like they did for the Founders. Though that in itself comes with the problem that they'd want the Mane 6 to be actually recognizable and thus young looking. And if they come out of a limbo while still looking fairly young, it means they weren't around in the past for much long for some odd reason.

That's all I have for now at least on the top of my head. If there's a trailer coming soon I might make another of these as I said. And I'm also open to any responses whether if you want to tell me you have some of the same concerns or do anything that might calm my own concerns about the way G5 might be stepping on G4's toes whilst trying to maintain G4's fandom into the coming generations. Thanks to anyone who bothered to read. I wish good luck on G5, but if concerns aren't addressed and/or they end up correct on some fronts. There's a chance I may have quite the baggage clouding my mind even before the movie and series starts...

[aislingeu]

hello!! i’m kq ( aka kelsey quinn! ) i’m twenty five, livin in the est, usin she / her pronouns!! much like the good buddy who turned me on to this rp, i don’t know a ton about percy jackson!! but mythology was one of the few subjects that held my attention in school, so i hoe i have a good handle on it! :D for now, i manage a comic book store from thursdays - sundays, so i’m scarce those times but i’m usually on discord!!

⟨ ABIGAIL COWEN. CIS FEMALE. SHE / HER ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AISLING DUNN is actually a descendant of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old PAINTING MAJOR from DUBLIN, IRELAND has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CLEVER & COARSE.

this got way longer than i intended im so sorry... 

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

she was born on march 12th, 1997 to a pair of irish musicians ( conor and dierdre dunn ) and, unwittingly, one greek god ( hypnos ) in dublin, ireland. her parents met and married shortly after her conception and neither of them suspected that conor wasn’t aisling’s father, until she was claimed.

as an only child, her parents didn’t have much to compare her too in terms of overall strangeness. for years, they wrote off her abilities as kids just sayin’ the darndest things. they remained blissfully unaware of the impact of their daughter’s words, rolling their eyes fondly, when she told them about the man in the cave, who came to her in dreams. they smiled and laughed, when she strangers at the supermarket that she thought erwin was a fine name to give a teddy bear, no matter what anyone else said. how were they to know that she was unearthing the fond childhood memories that passersby had almost forgotten? 

when she enrolled in primary school, they realized that she was... strange, if not special. she was recognized as a bit of a space case, often staring at nothing in particular, while her teacher droned on. her worksheets were seldom turned in complete. instead, aisling began gifting poorly drawn family portraits on the blank sides of her papers, likenesses plucked from the memories she explored when her mind wandered, in class.

eventually, after her skill had developed and people stopped writing off the stick figures as ‘coincidentally accurate’, people began to truly take notice. they speculated that she was a medium, silently communing with the dead and painting their pictures as she did. how else could she know what her art teacher’s late father looked like? and what color tie he always liked to wear? she had to be a psychic. recipients of her art were always so focused on their perception of the little girl with the gift of sight that they hardly even realized what she had tweaked, brightening up their darkest memories, just so they wouldn’t have to hurt anymore. she hardly even realized, herself.

without a reason to believe otherwise, she told the man in her dreams that she was a psychic, but he knew differently. he told her that that wasn’t so. she was special, yes, but not in the ways that the world thought her to be. hypnos let her in on the secret he’d been keeping for the past twelve years and, just like that, aisling could make sense of herself. once she knew the truth, she chased sleep. she spent as much time as she could, communicating with the one person who understood who she was. he saw her hunger for belonging and pointed her in the direction of the camp nearest to her hometown.

after a summer away, she came home faced with a challenge in morality that she’d never considered, as a child. she came home to a world where she could no longer fit. her party tricks had lost their luster the moment she realized that true value of a memory, however sad, was worth far more than the cheap smiles that her alterations had afforded. with that realization, her art took a darker turn. unable to shift the memories she saw into the light, they haunted her. she now saw their fears and heartbreaks for what they were: unchangeable. and, now, they lived within her, too. putting them to paper was the only way to get them out. but, pieces like those weren’t the kind that could be sent home to mom and dad. pieces like those were the kind that got her meetings with guidance counselors and haunted, fleeting looks from those whose memories she’d never meant to disturb. after a year of that, aisling went back to camp, full time.

once she was a year round resident of the camp, she found herself more comfortable around people who understood; there was nothing she had to hide, among those who were like her. each one of them was fighting an uphill battle of their own. they didn’t have to hide it. even if she never allowed herself to get too close, aisling never felt all that far away, at camp.

at eonia, aisling spends most of her days painting, sleeping, or working. raised by a pair of mortal musicians, finding a job at fireside records felt like a natural progression. where her godly parent thrives in silence, she finds her comfort in noise. it’s easier to block out the things she doesn’t need to see when there’s something immediate for her to focus on. at the other end of that spectrum, aisling finds her mind most open in visual arts club, trying to keep her other creative skills sharp, while she keeps her primary focus on painting. in search of inspiration, her mind reaches out in tendrils, dipping into another’s until she finds something she can work with. she only needs to leave the room before they’ve realized what she’s borrowed. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

aisling is a naturally empathetic person, always wishing she could do more to help those around her. unfortunately, she knows that she can’t always honor that instinct. her abilities and self-imposed limitations have left her with a hardened exterior that isn’t easy to break through. those who pass through her walls see a softer side: a steadfast friend, always there to put a peaceful end to their sleepless nights or calm their worst nightmares, with a gentle run of her fingers through their hair. but sometimes, she’ll wall herself away from even those she’s closest to after she finds herself in the middle of a particularly harrowing memory. because of this, maintaining close bonds for long is a difficult thing. given her propensity for accidentally rifling through the fondest and most fearsome parts of peoples’ pasts, she’s been known cut them out of her life when she sees something that she has the urge to alter.

𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

MEMORY RETRIEVAL — for as long as she could remember, aisling knew things that she shouldn’t. at first, her parents just dismissed her gift as imagination and observation combining in a perfect, creepy storm. it wasn’t until she started attending school, picked up her finger paints, and started to draw out moments from the pasts of strangers that people started to truly take notice. sloppy scenes from the librarian’s wedding day graduated into well sketched portraits of her bus driver’s dalmatians. she liked to take those happy moments, immortalize them in art, and hand them off to the owners of the memories. she liked to make people smile. sometimes, she took that a step further. too young to see the value in sadness, aisling would tweak the memories that were harder to bear; even if she couldn’t bring someone happiness in the present, she hoped she could bring them comfort in the future. it wasn’t until she was claimed that aisling saw the flaws in her intervention. it wasn’t until she was taught the consequences that she knew she had to stop. although the memories came to her unbidden, they didn’t belong to her and she had no right to change them. instead of focusing on the alteration of memories, aisling opted to try to learn how to shut them out. like her other powers, though, there’s a direct correlation between her emotional state and her ability to keep a wall up. when she’s feeling something strongly or hasn’t gotten enough sleep, she sees things that she doesn’t mean to.

HYPNOKINESIS — you are getting very sleepy… what proved to be a fun tool at sleepovers had more practical applications than aisling knew possible. the skill of inducing sleep was easy enough to come by and influencing dreams was as simple as altering memories. and while ( without intending to ) she’d been known to cause visions when tensions ran high, refining those visions into ones that took the shapes she wanted them to took practice. even more difficult than that was learning to astral project, but that became a necessity, coming hand-in-hand with building her mental walls. when the uninvited memories start to weigh on her, she’s learned that it’s best to remove herself from the immediate vicinity. even if she’s only technically leaving in her head. 

OTHER ABILITIES — ( levitation ) a skill she only possesses in sleep, predominantly when her dreams are eliciting strong emotions. ( seeing the gods in dreams ) this is how she formed and maintained a relationship with her father, despite her parents being unaware of their daughter’s godly lineage. on occasion, she’ll encounter gods that she’s less familiar with and, in most of those cases, she’s been known to force herself awake.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

there are so many cool, fun things runnin through my brain right now!! i think it would be lovely for her to have forged a friendship with an insomniac or maybe someone prone to nightmares that she could help! and those fun customer service relationships with record store regulars!! or maybe a former friend or significant other, who aisling left behind? maybe even altering their memory slightly, if the parting of ways was ugly! who knows! the possibilities are endless!! and i’m always up to hearing other peoples’ ideas because the Sweet Lord knows i am not the most imaginative person in any given room!!!

thank u for reading ilu!!! 

[owlespresso]

Relationship Headcanons / Thancred Waters

It took some time to finish this, but here it is! Nothing too NSFW below the cut. Tip Jar

Thancred’s days of womanizing are past him.

He’s spent the past five years trundling about the wilderness, killing Sin Eaters and trying his damn hardest to protect the people and Ryne. He’s had one night stands here and there. Usually when he’s needed to blow off steam, or feel some semblance of affection.

He’s rusty when it comes to actual feelings and real romance, but ye gets back into the swing of it quick. He’s missed flirty, back-and-forth banter, missed being able to loosen up with someone he’s close to and can thoroughly trust. You feel like home, to him, a place where he can relax and lay all his truths bare.

To tell the truth, he’s not quite sure what to do with you when you arrive on the First. He’s missed you, that much is certain. But you’re both so busy and constantly in danger. Wouldn’t it be selfish of him to start a relationship when there’s so much else going on? 

Or, maybe this was the best time to fall in love. Your lives could end at any moment, any day. He had faith in your skills more than his own, but he refused to believe either of you infallible or immortal. Warrior of Light or no, you could die in any of the battles you found yourself in and the very thought terrified him.

Realizing your own mortality was what eventually pushed him into your arms. Whilst initially tentative before his confession, he becomes more open, affectionate and dare I say needy afterwards. He seeks your company out more than ever before, speaks softly, looks at you with a tenderness others seldom see from him anymore. He stays closer to you during your travels, walking at your side, taking any excuse to brush up against you. 

He gives you his jacket should you be lacking one, compliments you, takes every opportunity to spend time with you. Some of the others notice and tease him about his tendency to volunteer to accompany you wherever you go, but he pays them no mind. The moments you have together are fleeting and could get cut off at any moment, so he makes the most of what he has while he still has it.

Others have said much worse about him and he’s not one to get worked up over idle teasing. They’ll probably forget about it in the next few days or so.

You need no protection, but he’s protective anyways. Glares at Emet-Selch and other miscreants over your shoulder, makes sure you adequately feed and hydrate yourself, takes care of you should you get sick… He knows that being the Warrior of Light is a laborsome and near agonizing job. 

The masses which paw at you for assistance are often not swift to offer help in return. He supposes he can’t blame them, because they’re all impoverished in their own ways, and none can match your grandiose power. 

There are tasks that only you can do and it wears on you. He does his best to assist you, taking care of menial tasks, bringing you food, doing most of the errands. He’s sure Emet Selch could make a wise crack or two about him being your servant or lap dog, but he doesn’t care. 

It takes a long time for him to confess, purely because there’s so much to be done and so much at risk. Whilst he naturally worries about ruining the stable friendship you already have, his feelings build and mount until he can’t contain them any longer. 

He thinks about confessing nearly every day, wonders when the best time would be and how, and where, and who should or should not be around. In the end, he waits until it’s the dead of night and the others have gone their separate ways to approach you. It’s a quiet confession, and the long embrace he gives you at feelings returned conveys more than simple words ever can.

After confessing, he touches you more. Keeps an arm around your shoulder, a hand clutched tight to your own, etc. Being able to feel you soothes him.

And he also wants to be in your bed. Not for the sake of intimacy alone, but just to hold you, to keep you warm at night.

Speaking of beds, he prefers to keep your stacked with a ridiculous amount of soft pillows. Just piles and piles of extravagant cushions for you to lounge on. He’s not one to prioritize materialism or wealth above all else, but he’s a slut for pillows and has many as possible. This is a comfort he will not forsake.

Being able to enjoy common, domestic things with you is foreign to him, but he’s near obsessed with it. Doing chores together, going on walks hand-in-hand… For the past five years, he’d half counted on being cold and alone in a grave without ever having experienced actual, romantic love. Not that he wanted to meet a grisly end, far from it! 

Surprisingly good at remembering anniversaries, considering how busy you both usually are. If you both happen to be occupied on an anniversary, he’ll at least make a point to point it out and promise to take you out to dinner some other night. 

Is also very good at taking care of sick people. He’s not a medic by any means, but he’s learned the ins and outs of first aid very well, given his solitary lifestyle on the First before the rest of the Scions arrived. He also knows how to care for the sick from looking after Ryne while she was ill, a few times. He mothers you incessantly and might insist on carrying you from place-to-place, even if you have something as simple as a cold.

Is a work-a-holic, but also hates it when you’re a work-a-holic. Urges you away from whatever task is occupying your attention when he notices you’re getting tired. Makes sure you get the appropriate amount of rest.

He likes to pay for meals, and most dates you go on. He’s usually not one to bring flowers home out of the blue or pick up small trinkets, but he’s a perfect gentleman whenever you both go out together.

Master of every household chore besides cooking. He can scrounge up something quick to eat, but it’s usually never tasty and is more for the purpose of keeping his stomach full. Chief laundry do-er and folder, though. Prides himself on being able to carry things around for you, though he’ll never admit to it aloud. 

Flops all over you when drunk. Thancred doesn’t usually drink himself into a stupor, both because he usually wants to remain alert and he doesn’t want to be a bad role model on Ryne. However, he begins to loosen up after awhile, trusting you and the rest of the Scions to essentially babysit while he hiccups and blushes and drapes himself over you. He’ll shove his head onto your lap, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder… All while insisting you pet him and pay attention to him.

Likes to spoon! Usually prefers being the big spoon, but isn’t opposed to being the little one. Being close to you is what matters most. He’ll kiss the back of your neck and wrap an arm around you to hold you close.

If you have breasts, he’s definitely going to want to rest his head on top or or in between them. Delights in your softness, idly squishes your hips and thighs. He lives for the simple ecstasy of having you tucked close to him under the blankets.

Usually chats with you until he drifts off. Asks about your day, your plans for tomorrow, how you’re feeling… as he gets closer to falling asleep, the topics grow a bit more nonsensical. Sleepy, loopy Thancred is honestly adorable.

Sometimes, he has nightmares about being spirited away from you again. He’ll wake up coated in cold sweat and restless, often opting to climb out of bed to take a shower, rinse himself off and gather his thoughts. He’ll probably wake you up whilst stumbling around the room, grabbing a new pair of pajamas because the ones he was wearing now feel icky. He hopes you don’t mind, and welcomes your company if you ask to come into the shower with him.

The biggest struggle he has is opening up emotionally. He’s kept to himself for the past five years, and spilling out his feelings is… difficult, when he’s spent so much time staying rigid, focusing on his work and cause and leaving little time for anything else. It takes time for him to speak up when something is bothering him or when there’s something he’d like to change about your relationship. 

Somewhat of a romantic despite the tragedies and hardships he’s been through. Waxes poetic about your body, about how strong you are, how you astound him every day… it can honestly get a little embarrassing, and sometimes he just does it because it flusters you.

Tugs your chair out for you, opens doors, performs other small, chivalrous gestures because he likes doing things for you, in general. He likes being needed, maybe even needs to be needed.

The first thing he does after coming home, or after you get home, is kiss you! Pecks your forehead, your cheeks before finally reaching your lips. He considers it a necessary part of greeting you, no matter who is in the room to see! He’s proud of being in a relationship with you and won’t hesitate to let others see how close you are.

If you’re cooking or wiping down the counter, chances are he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you! Rests his chin on your shoulder or presses his forehead to your back, idly commenting on what you’re doing, or asking how your day has been, etc.

Spends a long time deciding what to get you for your birthdays or for holidays. Pays very close attention to things you like or say you might want. Whether it be food, jewelry, a weapon… just name it and it will be yours! 

Has trouble sleeping very often, and will try to wave you off to bed with a smile and assurances that he’ll be alright, come up within the hour. It’s surprisingly easy to drag him away from wherever he may be and into the bedroom, because he can’t resist your sweet pleads or firm demands. He’s putty in your hands and is well aware of it. 

While protective, he is not a jealous man. He trusts you completely and with his life, so he refuses to assume for a moment that you might cheat on him or be interested in someone else.

Likes resting his hand on your knee when you sit next to each other. It’s not sexual in nature, but he does it absentmindedly, as though he’s trying to make sure you’re really there. That being said, if he’s in a frisky mood, that hand may begin to wander.

100% does the grocery shopping. Ryne often accompanies him to the store and often insists on steering the cart or carrying a bag. He has trouble saying “no” when she points out something she wants. He’s come home with more sweets than he planned to initially, more than a few times. 

[war-of-the-words]

Stuck in the Balance - Part 1

Summary: It wasn't exactly willing but Shinichi thought he could handle the job. Kaito was surprised that out of everyone he was chosen to take on the role. At least they both have some life lines. And maybe... each other? It's just my take on a Life and Death AU I'm just bad at summaries. Written Oct 2018 Next Part>> Read on AO3

The balance of Life and Death is a fragile thing. That’s the only rule that has stayed consistent in Shinichi’s years of holding his title: the apprentice of Death himself. Of course, it is a title that not many would want to hold, not that many could in the first place. The only reason Shinichi was able to was because of some deal that the Kudou line had made hundreds of years ago due to their uncanny ability to meet the requirements.

He actually found that the day-to-day routine was quite boring. It didn’t help that many people that he used to be friends with had to believe that he was dead. Well, he technically was, but only because of the amount of time he had spent around Death and the dead.

As he headed to his post for the day, welcoming the dead that had joined them overnight, he spotted a girl that he had come to know well. Ran had been the first person that he had personally escorted alone. She was a sweet girl and he had trouble trying to decipher why she had met her end when she did. Her fiance had decided that he didn’t truly want to marry her on the day before their wedding day and had lashed out violently instead of trying to talk it out with her. Shinichi had a feeling that if he had met her before the whole Death’s apprentice thing had taken over his life, she would have had a very different person prepared to marry her. However, such relationships were forbidden between him and the dead, so he would settle for the friendship they had found. He shot her a quick smile and a wave, which were returned, before allowing his work persona to take over.

Shinichi entered the processing area to a scene of a few older women attempting to console a few children that were crying out for their parents. He took a deep breath. Today was going to be a long day.

-<3-

Kaito tended to enjoy his post as the apprentice of Life. Everyday was the constant work of creating something out of nothing, which helped keep his usual boredom at bay. The only regular complaint he had was the small issue of beings that took other’s lives.

He often came to resent them because they added more work to his usual schedule by making them have to take the time to send the dead’s file to, well, Death so that the official report could be made. He didn’t mind when beings died naturally of a sickness or old age because those files would automatically transfer. Don’t misunderstand that he doesn’t care--any loss of life was a reason to mourn--just those that were ‘natural’ didn’t add to his usual work load.

When he was first appointed into his title, he questioned why Life and Death even needed apprentices. Life gave him some long, convoluted answer that basically boiled down to the fact that even though they were semi-immortal beings, they could never ignore their own existence and the forces that they were in control of.

They had to, every century or so, go to Fate to be released from their titles and become mortals together, and eventually they would come to live together for eternity in Death’s realm. From his instruction, he knew that most mortal souls eventually faded, but, due to their complicated existence, not many beings that had previously held the titles of Life and Death had. Kaito easily accepted the answer. It was hard to ignore the balance that their continued existence, for the past however many years, relied on holding.

Kaito had only met the other apprentice once. Their usual messenger was unable to carry the files so they were sent to a common ground to exchange the necessary reports. When he had arrived in the cafe in the mortal world that had been agreed upon, Kaito was very easily able to identify the other. There was just something otherworldly in the other boy’s presence. Kaito found his bright blue eyes striking in the sense that he would never have thought that something so lively could ever be associated with something as dull as death.

If Kaito was honest with himself, the quick meeting left a lot to be desired. He really wanted to get to know the person behind the quick “here,” “thanks,” and the coffee order he had overheard. He didn’t even know the other’s name.

Kaito sighed as the list of creations for the day formed on his desk. Time to get to work.

-<3-

Shinichi had found some free time in his day and quickly made his way out to where Ran usually spent her time. Shinichi liked filling his free time by talking with the dead. It wasn’t uncommon to see him talking to Ran anytime he had a little free time and interacting with others when he had a bit more.

Ran was about the age he was when he left to take the apprentice role. In fact, she kind of reminded him of one of his friends. She was kind of hot-headed, but once you had earned her trust there was a kind of fierce loyalty that Shinichi didn’t think would let anyone ever break a promise they made to her.

“Ran!”

Shinichi saw her look up from whatever she was doing and give him one of her customary smiles. “Hello, Shinichi. It’s nice to see you.”

Shinichi took a second to plop down in the grass next to her before responding. “It’s been a few days, I think, maybe a week, since we last had the chance to talk. What have you been up to?”

Ran looked at him almost appraisingly for a second, “I’ve been with the others recently. I even went to a couple of those parties that you are always complaining about. It wasn’t that bad, a couple of the others did get a bit rowdy, but it was easy to break them up and calm them down.”

“I never really took you as a party-going kind of person.”

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know yet, Shinichi.” She smiled and laid back so she was staring at the sky, and Shinichi leaned back to join her.

It was something that seemed odd when Shinichi’s first moved to Death’s realm, but the ability to see the stars from here no longer fazed him. Death had explained that the folktales where humans had assumed his realm was underground were odd--something so big could obviously only be in another dimension.

Of course, it took some time for Shinichi himself to accept that it was, so whenever he thought about the conversation it was usually in a sarcastic tone.

Things were silent for a minute and Shinichi had just started to locate some of the still visible constellations when Ran spoke up again. “Shinichi, do you ever think about what would be the difference if we had met before I died? What will happen to you when I eventually fade?”

Shinichi took a moment to look at her before responding. “Sometimes. But if you fade before I give up this position it would only be a few years of remembering that you existed. Why do you ask?”

“Sonoko faded last night.”

A rush of understanding passed through Shinichi. Sonoko was the girl that Ran had confided in almost immediately when she first arrived in Death’s realm. Sonoko was the girl that encouraged Ran to open up to people after she arrived.

It wasn’t hard to see why Ran was so suddenly worried

-<3-

Kaito was forced to step away from his growing list of work when Lady Luck arrived to talk. Lady Luck was one of the few beings that he now knew existed that he had believed in before he had joined them. The current Lady Luck was a girl named Aoko.

Kaito was pretty sure that Aoko as a human girl during her time on earth was somewhat of a spit-fire. She lost her temper easily and tended to refer to herself in the third-person when she became extremely upset. She was also the only person that Kaito could really consider a friend since he got to the “other world.” Though, that was partially because most of the realms were kept separate from one another, and partially due to the fact that he was rarely invited to the bigger meet-ups because of his status of apprentice.

“Hey, Kaito?”

“What’s up Aoko?” He spun around in his chair to see said woman walking into his office.

“I-I just wanted to chat for a bit. I’ve heard some rumors going around and I kind of wanted to know if you had heard any of them.”

Kaito took a moment to think about the more recent rumors and was hard pressed to think of any that had been circulating since the last time Aoko had talked to him about rumors. “The one that Death’s apprentice is dating that dead human girl?”

Aoko giggled a little bit before replying, “No not that one. Good guess though. I actually went and talked to that girl the other day.” she took a second to give kaito a suggestive look, “They aren’t dating. So your so-called destined partner isn’t cheating on you. Don’t worry.”

Kaito felt his face warm up. He didn’t really understand why so many people in the Other realm liked to think about Life and Death as destined romantic partners. It was a common conception in the human realm as well which made him wonder if it had some truth behind it, but that didn’t mean that the idea wasn’t embarrassing.

“I’m talking about the rumor that fate is getting ready to commence the passing ceremony.” At that statement Kaito took a second to remind himself to breathe. The passing ceremony. The hour that it would take for her to cast a few spells that would send the current Life and Death to earth and give the apprentices the full range of their duties.

He officially only had a week and a half to get to know the rest of his duties and come to an agreement of some kind with the other apprentice, may it be an agreement of toleration, friends, lovers, enemies, or solitude.

[fahcandall]

Minecraft Kings AU - Descriptions

So, I've had this idea for quite a while of a Minecraft Kings style immortals longfic. So here's the basic descriptions of each character that theoretically would be kinda the first chapter of that, as an introduction of sorts.

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Parents tell children stories of monsters, mobs from the forest and the nether to keep them in bed at night. Parents shudder from stories of the real monsters, men so drenched in death and power that they have crafted their own way into immortality, a road lined with blood and greed and the golden crown of the kings.

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King Geoff, the First King, the True King. The rumours say that he is a god of the world in his own right. Before the kings ruled and fought over the crown, he built this world. When the world was built, the other gods left, but he was only half a god and so he stayed with the men of the world, ruling it from his castle. They say he was once benevolent, and to the common people he still can be, but he got bored. It was him who first encouraged the others to play his games and eventually to strive for the crown and immortality themselves.

King Gavin, the Golden King, the Trickster King, the Solar King, the Fool King. But best to not whisper the last too loudly. They say he also comes from the old gods who created the world, but he was different from Geoff. Instead of living forever immortal among men, when the world was created, Gavin left. Whether he went with the other gods then later changed his mind and came back, or whether he was already in his pattern of death and rebirth no one knows. But whenever he dies, his body disappears and he comes back to them from the forest. He's said to have a connection with the creepers, that he is their god, and when he dies they bring him back to life at the cost of a life of their own. It was once thought he'd never have the ability or desire to take the crown, but when he had had enough of the taunting of the other kings he took it with vicious glee and ruthless determination.

King Ryan, the Mad King, the Dark God, the Vagabond. He was once just a man. A powerful magician and scientist, but truly a man. But he was ruthless in his pursuit of power. He used his magic and his strength to steal life force from other creatures and tether it to himself for eternal youth and rejuvenation. He was the last of the originals to join the Kings, but the first to take the crown from Geoff, and he has held it most out of all of them. His lust for power is matched only by his delight in his own twisted indulgences. The Mad King takes pleasure from cruelty, in a way the other kings still don't. And he never settled for the power he had. Only a generation ago, he exceeded the other kings again, completely transcending manhood and forcing himself into godhood. He called himself the Dark God and laughed as he sat on his throne of death and gold. They say his generations of manipulating the sciences and the arcane came together and even the other kings shuddered to realize he now had powers stronger even than Geoff's.

King Michael, the Warrior King, the Righteous King, Mogar. He came to his immortality by pure strength and fighting ability. It is said he lived in the woods, mostly isolated, before he joined the kings. Living out there alone, with all the mobs, no surprise he was an excellent fighter. No one knows exactly how he became immortal, even he is not completely sure according to rumours. But stories say he frequently explored abandoned or mystical areas, killing any mobs and taking whatever he found inside. Some say he found an ancient artifact or a spell that granted him immortality, others say it was a combination of many items and magics he'd come across in his time. Either way, he didn't know about it until he joined the kings. He is considered fair to individuals, but he may nearly rival Ryan for the blood shed during his rule, as he is the most likely to go to war, and indeed will fight in the wars himself.

King Ray, the Rose King, The Red King. King Ray was born high nobility in a kingdom that once bordered Achieveland, but has since become a part of our kingdom. The Rose King was expected to be...gentle, kind, he'd seemed that way before, and it is said people rejoiced when they heard he had taken the crown, thinking it the end of war. But he sits the throne like he was born bored with it, lounging across it with a smirk as blood streaked his dark gloves and pooled under his dark boots. The stories say the Red King does not wear cruelty as a cloak he puts on and off, but woven inextricably into him as sharp thorns hidden under a rose's petals. No one knows how he became immortal. He was definitely human once, though he may never have been humane. But he keeps that secret close to his chest, and some whisper that it's because it is not as irreversible as the other kings’ immortality, that he could still be killed for good, and that fear is what drives him to his secrecy and his cruelty both. But don't ever think to kill one of the kings, mortals have no place playing their games and they have ears everywhere. Fear and rewards breed loyalty stronger than one would imagine, and the Red King is very good at both.

King Jack, the Good King, the Just King, our current king. It is said that long before he was ever king, Jack was the first true friend Geoff had. A man born of this world, who was gifted immortality by his king, his god, but most importantly, his friend. Jack had worked with King Geoff, never fighting him for many years before the others showed up to begin playing the King's Game, and maybe he didn't have that ruthlessness the others did from their struggle to obtain immortality. The stories say that he is the creator of many of the things for men, not the giant monoliths that the kings build to show up each other, but homes and farms and riverways to trade along. That kindness he had may have been why, while he's been there the longest, this is his first time with the crown. Because that many centuries around immortals hungry for power and blood, and the friendship and gentleness that once infused his soul eventually begins to fade. He's still just but it is a ruthless and absolute justice, and it is best to steer away from all those who have or have fought for the crown. Mercy is not a word they know.

Through our history those are all the kings reigning in achievement city. It has rotated between them in bloody games, like a mockery of how other kingdoms rotate rulers between their high noble families. But there are others who have joined them to play the King's Games. Other, younger immortals who have never yet worn the crown but fight for it every bit as viciously as those who've won it in the past.

Lord Jeremy. The blood mage. No surprises with that one as to how he got his immortality. He stole it with his magic, for what is blood magic except stealing the life from others? They say Ryan would trap and slowly drain the life force from his victims, back when he still needed to, Jeremy simply kills them and spills their blood over his unholy altar, stealing their souls to store their energy in reserve for whenever he needs the life power. His blood altar is said to have a huge room dedicated to it's dark arts, and that the only ones who ever leave that room after entering it, are the immortals. He used to work in their castle, a servant, they say he was enraptured by the Mad King and eager to work under him, and that he was inspired by the stories of the Red King. Even after a generation and a half as an immortal he still goes to extreme lengths to impress them with new forms of sadism, especially in his magic.

Lord Matt. They say he's a savant, a genius. They say he has made advances for the kingdom far beyond any normal development. And, he isn't even a mage. He has no further skill with magic than any normal man, instead he uses technology. Sometimes you might catch a glimpse of it, pray that you never see it closer than at a distance. His creations can be monstrous, almost like living things but not needing to draw breath. He's also responsible for many of the recent additions to the Kings' lands, their castle, their city, even achieveland itself. Jack built for the common people, Matt builds for the Kings. He became an immortal in the same generation as Jeremy, some say they worked together to develop their immortality, the benefits of the Mad King's labs and two brains doing what so few others have.

Lady Lindsay. The Chaos Queen. She has never held the crown herself, but she has sat at her husband's side as he held it. King Michael married her a few generations ago. Some say he offered her a share of his immortality, allowed her life to be linked with his for eternity. But others say she turned down his offer and found immortality on her own. They say she travelled to other worlds, the nether and the end, and deep into the caves and forests and oceans of this world, and found pieces of immortality, much like her husband, she found her immortality through exploration, but more like the Trickster King, she became friends with the creatures she found. No one knows if she had an affinity for magic before, but after her adventures she has become a powerful magic user, using a more holistic and nature driven magic than many of the others. But remember that nature too can be vicious, she's seen more than any human on this world, and chaos is a part of the universe. It is fair in its unfairness, cruel in its apathy to any one individual, and like chaos, her actions often makes no sense, destruction or healing, either are possible with her.

Lord Trevor. He's a witch. Ryan and Jeremy were humans who had an affinity for magics, and of course, Geoff and Gavin are gods, and can use magic, but Trevor was a human with so much magic that he makes even the gods look limited. Once he had access to Ryan's labs it was only a matter of time before his skill with magics and potions made him immortal. And he is young, less than a generation old, the second youngest of the immortals, but it is only a matter of time before he becomes King. He needs to learn how to play their games, how they cheat without cheating, which rules they bend and how to block them, but once he does, his magic will give him a shot that even the other more experienced Lords and Lady do not have. As for the kind of King he'll be? He has a mean streak through him, he'd have to, to become immortal, and he's young, easily influenced, but he's smart and savvy, he might be a very good king for the kingdom itself, and he might be more obliging to the common people, but stay away from his bad side, he might be an easy channeling point for all their sadism.

Lord Alfredo, the youngest immortal. He has become an immortal in our lifetime, he may even have a family out there somewhere who still knew him as a child. He was a sniper in their army, before that, a hunter. They say he has a great shot and is more receptive to the common person than nearly any other king. What no one talks about is how he became immortal. Well, people talk, people tell all sorts of wild stories of how he could have done it, some say he stole it from the other immortals, some say he won it from one of he immortals, or had it gifted to him as a puzzle to figure out. Still others say he did something similar to Lindsay, travelling to the hearts of mob spawns of different types and stealing their spawn magic. But no one who would have any real facts has said. Even the servants of the castle are quiet, not even a hint of a rumour from the immortals. But people do know that he worked in the Mad King's lab just before and after he bacame an immortal. And that he has no, or very little magic affinity. As for how he'll be as a king? He may be an experienced killer but compared to the other immortals he's still so new and innocent to their games. It'll likely be a while before Alfredo becomes King.

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While doing research on the history of the kings I found this document. It was clearly part of a larger work or correspondence, it feels like merely an introduction, but the rest of it has been lost to time. There is no precise date given but since there is mention of how recently Lord Alfredo became immortal it is easy enough to estimate that this was around three to four hundred years ago, sometime during King Jack's first reign. Since my interest was in writing a history of the Kings and other immortals, I felt that this was a distinctly useful document to include. I have copied it out here, as the original text is showing its age. I could have simply included this and left it as it is, but it is of course missing one of the immortals, and I find it a shame to leave her out of such an interesting document. I write of course, of the newest immortal, Lady Fiona. I will include her description here in the style of the other descriptions and then I will proceed with my comparative history of this document and the history of the immortal kings.

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At the time I write this, Lady Fiona is the youngest immortal and has been immortal for around 100 years. She is a wild warrior, very intelligent and independant despite her young age. Magic practice is much less common in today's world, but it is whispered that she has a strong spiritual connection and that she became immortal in part through her nature connections, and maybe even a magical affinity. Before she was immortal, and even for a while after she was a part of their armies. She is not known for the sharp shot that Lord Alfredo was said to be, but she is a leader, and for a long time led her own divison as captain against enemy attacks. She was known for leading stealth attacks through the forests and other seemingly impossible passes. It is said that she realized her immortality when a mission went wrong and her division was caught in an ambush. It was a massacre, but she woke up the next morning in a field of bodies, the lone survivor, until she saw the state of her armour, then she realized that she was immortal. Now whether that realization was that she was immortal with no knowledge of how it happened, or that her attempts to become immortal had worked, I do not know. Some say that when she ended up back in the castle she did not tell the other immortals of her immortality, instead she tried to trick them and stole from them. Then once they caught her and tried to kill her, she showed them the truth. Fun loving and wild, and nearly as chotic as lindsay, she seems to bring some lightness to the castle, even as all around the world seems to grow darker for the Kings. At the current time, Lady Fiona and Lord Alfredo are the only two who have not held the crown.