#I am valid in my very very narrow musical choices

[essektheylyss]

Coramar-Seelie Tragedy Vibes for your Thursday morning

[3wisellamas]

Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!

(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike.  ^^;  You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)

Music:

-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those.  (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)

-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country.  The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!

-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)

-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing.  He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.

-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles. 

-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!

-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)

-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever.  They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited.  All three got to have one together eventually though.  

-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave.  "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.

-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)

-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.    

-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape!  The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)

-Jury's still out on Hit Clips.  Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)

-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well.  Perks of being robots!  Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.

-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers!  The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.

-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!).  He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable.  Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.

Voice headcanons:

-Sweet:  Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting.  And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!

-Cap'n:  Scout from TF2.  I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him.  XD  However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...

-K_K:  Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood!  He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it.  He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away).  There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.

-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together! 

Sweet:

-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often.  He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills.  The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.

-That said, though?  It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot.  There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some.  On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.

-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side!  Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day.  It helps that they can all hug it out.

-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right.  He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.

-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride.  The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.

-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general.  He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!

-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly.  It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff!  And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.

Cap’n:

-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past!  However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears.  Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.

-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women?  And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard?  To which he's always just like "No, of course not.  I'm straight.  Love the ladies.  Totally.  Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they?  Is that what this is about?!"

-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls.  ;v; )

-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix.  Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head.  He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.

-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself.  Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk.  It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...

-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset.  So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!

-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos!  He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.

-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K.  However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.

K_K:

-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality.  It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.

-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY!  Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end.  Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.

-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it.  They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).

-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves!  He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.

-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling.  He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)

-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever.  If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point.  If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.  

-He is a VERY physical guy.  Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh.  Okay.  We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it.  And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.  

-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done.  After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.

-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything.  But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music!  And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.

Misc:

-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy.  Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.

-Okay, actually, I will say more about it.  Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle.  However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.

-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.

-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything.  Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs.  Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.

-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it.  But they do have cell phones:  Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones.  They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.

-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most.  Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.

-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down!  Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.

-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage.  Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear.  When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...

Finally, backstory?

-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!)  But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.

-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!)  But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.

-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf.  But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.  

-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing?  Nobody can hold back the music, man!

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #9

Orion Amari x MC

 A/N: I swear @kc-needs-coffee I’m almost done borrowing KC, I just enjoy her so much xD

Warning: use of alcohol

 Word Count: ~ 2.600

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 9: A Knight in Shining Armour

Tired and beaten down, the Hufflepuff team trudged back towards the castle. It hadn’t taken the Ravenclaw seeker much longer to capture the Golden Snitch after KC’s Bludger had hit Lizzie. None of them was in the mood for much talking. Losing this match was a heavy blow to them.  

When they neared their Common Room, they could already make out the loud music and sound of chatter behind the narrow passage leading up to the entrance. Upon entering, they found themselves in the middle of a full-fledged post-match party taking place inside the round room. Their peers had set it up while they had been trying to wash off the pain of the loss. To the people of their House it didn’t matter if their team won or lost. They always found a reason to celebrate anyway.

Before long, Lizzie found herself chatting away with Penny and Tonks. The butterbeer in her hand spread a comfortable warmth from her stomach into the rest of her body, numbing the pain still throbbing inside her bruised shoulder.

Her foot was lightly tapping to the rhythm of the music that was blasting out of the enchanted speakers Face Paint Kid had mounted above the huge fireplace. They obscured the huge portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who had retreated to a picture of her friend Rowena Ravenclaw near the Astronomy Tower. She couldn’t stand this ‘modern nonsense people called music nowadays’.

Lizzie had just downed the rest of her drink, when Penny nudged her and nodded inconspicuously towards one of the ledges that were protruding from the walls of the Common Room.

Skye was seated there all on her own, as had been her habit for the last weeks. She was nursing an empty mug in her hands and seemed to be brooding on something, deeply lost in thought.

“Someone should go talk to her,” Penny proposed softly. Lizzie contemplated passing on the task, but eventually her conscience got the better of her. She lifted her glass towards Penny and Tonks.

“I was going to get a refill anyway.”

She left her friends standing and made her way through the thick crowd towards the refreshment table, grabbing two fresh butterbeers before heading over to where Skye was sitting. She noticed people were giving the gloomy looking girl a wide berth and braced herself for being snapped at. But when Lizzie sat down next to her, she just accepted the drink Lizzie offered with a thankful smile.

The two of them were as used to fighting with each other as they were to making up again. There was no needs for many words or apologies. Lizzie held her mug out to Skye in a silent offer of reconciliation and Skye simply clanked hers against it before both took a deep swallow of the sweet liquid inside.

“Seems like Orion was right after all.”

Lizzie wasn’t looking at Skye as she spoke, rather staring at the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her glass. She was slowly swivelling it, watching the light from the fireplace illuminate the golden drink.

“This stupid quarrel likely cost us the match today. We can’t win if we don’t work together. It made getting our hands on the Cup just that more difficult.”

Skye chuckled wryly. “I’m always in for a challenge. How about you?”

Lizzie grinned back at her. “You know me.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Skye spoke up again. “Just wish I could have shown Rath the ropes. We’ve lost more times to Ravenclaw than I care to admit.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lizzie sighed. “At least, KC and I can now talk to each other again like the civilised human beings we are.”  

Skye snorted. “Your choice of friends has always been questionable.” She was acting up this time, Lizzie could hear the teasing in her voice.

“That’s why I’m friends with you, I guess,” she shot back.

Both of them started giggling, all the tension that had built between them over the last weeks suddenly dissolving into fits of laughter. They were drawing wondrous glances from their peers.        

Calming down, Skye’s face suddenly grew serious again. “Sorry for what happened today. Shouldn’t have said all those things to Orion. Or you. Not a good move from me.”

“You should tell him that, not me.” Lizzie gave her a sideways glance. “I was a bit harsh to you as well. Sorry about that.”

Skye raised her mug. “Forgiven and forgotten. Glad we could solve this mess.”

Lizzie leaned closer to her. “Speaking of solving the mess…” She motioned to where Penny was standing with Tonks, watching them through the crowd. “You should go talk to her. You can’t hide from Penny forever; I’m sure you will find a way to work things out.”

Skye had suddenly gone pale, a pained expression showing on her face. “I don’t know, Jameson, you sure about this?”

Lizzie just shoved her off the ledge for an answer. Shooting another uncertain glance over her shoulder, Skye made her way towards Penny. With a relieved sigh, Lizzie leaned back against the cold stone wall, propping one foot up on the ledge before taking another sip. Finally things were starting to get normal again.

Her sitting alone didn’t go unnoticed, however. Within minutes she could spot Everett breaking from the crowd and heading towards her, fresh mugs of butterbeer in hand. Lizzie groaned inwardly. She wasn’t particularly keen on getting into a conversation with him. She didn’t mind her new teammate during practise, but Lizzie had started feeling uncomfortable with the way he had been looking at her recently.

Gulping down the remains of her drink, Lizzie tried to get up as fast as she could. But before she had a chance to escape into the mass of students, Everett had reached her and slid down onto the ledge next to her. He sat a little bit too close for Lizzie’s liking.

“What are you doing, sitting around as lonely? Fancy a drink?” He held the mug up for her to take.

Lizzie couldn’t think of a valid reason to refuse and gave in to her lot. “Sure, why not. Thanks.”

She awkwardly accepted the butterbeer, not quite knowing how to start a conversation with him. Her not being overly keen on it didn’t help either.

“You played well today,” she tried treading on safe ground. Nothing wrong with a little Quidditch talk.

“Not as good as you, though. You were fantastic!”

“Hmm,” Lizzie hummed in response. That was a flat out lie. Today had been one of the worst matches she had ever played. She had performed just as poorly as Skye and Orion had done, perhaps even worse.

Everett didn’t seem to sense her disagreement, however. “You were almost as good back when you played Beater. Crazy good aim. I could use a bit of improvement in that area.” He smiled mischievously at her. The uncomfortable feeling in Lizzie’s stomach increased.

“Maybe you could show me how, some time? So I can better protect you.”

Of course Lizzie knew he was referring to Quidditch, but somehow the way he was stressing ‘protect’, combined with her general discomfort around him, rubbed her the wrong way.

She bristled at him. “I don’t need any protection, let alone yours, thank you very much. I can perfectly handle myself,” she snapped indignantly.

Laughing, he raised his hands in defence. “Relax, kitty cat, no need to get all angry. Doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

“You want to be a better Beater? Here’s my tip for you: more practising, less flirting.” She set her drink down with a clank and got up. She had enough of his attitude for the evening.

But before she could make off, Everett had grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him again. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, her face anything but friendly.

Feeling the need to change tune with her, Everett ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, don’t run away just yet,” he smiled apologetically.

Lizzie was still on edge, but her posture gradually softened again. She noticed he had pulled her down even closer to him than she had been before.

With a wink, Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask. The light of the fire place was reflected in it as he was brandishing it in front of her face. “What do you say? Let’s have a drink on peace?”

Her eyes followed the blinking flask as he poured a shot into his mug. Lizzie wasn’t one to object to a little extra punch when it came to her drinks but she really wasn’t interested in talking to Everett anymore, let alone drinking with him.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve had plenty already. I don’t want to end up doing anything stupid,” she added lightly.

Everett’s smile grew wicked. “Like this for example?”

He quickly leaned forward, putting his hand against the stone wall next to her face, effectively blocking her means of escape. To her horror, he started leaning in to kiss her. It was all she could do to duck under his arm supporting his weight to get away. Coming so close to him, a familiar scent reached her nose, fresh and spicy at the same time. It made her hesitate for a split second.

She knew the scent, but it thoroughly confused her to smell it on him of all people. It reminded her of the component of the Amortentia she had had problems placing.

Using her hesitation to his advantage, Everett got up as well, grabbing her arm before she could dart away. Anger flashing in her eyes, Lizzie tried to yank herself free.

“Is there a problem?”

Orion had suddenly appeared next to them. He looked calm and collected as ever, but his posture was tense, the tone in his voice firm. Lizzie sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending him along just now.

Everett didn’t seem as happy. “Nothing to see here, Amari,” he snarled, but his territorial demeanour didn’t so much as make Orion flinch.

“That is fortunate, because I am aware that McNully’s Kneazle is up in our dormitory, chewing away on your Transfiguration essay. I believe, it is due on Monday?”

The aggressiveness visibly drained out of Everett as he turned pale. “It took me three weeks to finish that assignment! I’m going to make a hat out of this fleabag!” He raced towards the round door at the far end of the Common Room and vanished behind it.

Lizzie’s brown furrowed in concern. “He’s not going to do anything to Kneil, is he?”

“Don’t worry, Kneil is somewhere in the castle, probably hunting his dinner,” Orion smirked in response. “To be honest, McNully saw Everett hitting on you and sent me to your rescue.”

“How gallant,” Lizzie giggled.

Orion wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Instead, he nodded towards her arm. “How is your shoulder feeling?”

Lizzie shrugged it off with a laugh. “Better than Everett’s ego, I image.”

Her eyes followed the path he had taken through the crowd. “I wonder what’s been going on lately; Everyone seems to be out of their minds,” she mused.

Including her, apparently. She could still smell the lovely scent lingering in the air, just as strongly as it had been before. She fought the urge to inhale deeply.

Orion laughed lowly. “That’s how it goes. I remember my fifth year vividly. Between O.W.L.s and people getting interested in dating each other, it was… “ A mysterious smile played about his lips for a moment, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Let’s say it was a singular experience.”

Lizzie remembered what Rowan had told her about Orion having a history when it came to dating. She felt self-conscious invading his privacy like that, but her curiosity and the fair share of butterbeer she’d drunk by now got the better of her.

“So, did you get to do some?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Orion took a sip from his drink. “Did I get to do what?”

Lizzie felt herself blush, glad the light emanating from the roaring fire hid the changing colour of her face. “Dating, I mean. Did you get to go on some?”

One corner of Orion’s mouth quirked up, the mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes intensifying. His lopsided smirk gave him a totally different presence than what Lizzie was used to seeing on him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at his oddly compelling smile, quickly shaking out of it as soon as she realised.

“A bit here and there.”

He knew his ominous answer only intensified Lizzie’s curiosity. So before she could ask, he added “Nothing serious, mind you. No real commitment from both sides.”

Not satisfied at all by this vague answer, Lizzie blinked at him, now even more curious than before. It felt completely out of place discussing this topic with her Quidditch captain, but she just couldn’t resist.

“You never mentioned seeing anyone. Why did you never tell us about any of them, or bring them to one of our matches?”

He slightly shook his head, his face changing to a more thoughtful expression. “Nothing worthwhile ever came of it. And I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to balance both things at the same time. Being the team captain and just me.”

Somehow, Lizzie was not entirely sure they were still talking about the same thing they had in the beginning of their conversation. She had noticed the tinge of frustration creeping into Orion’s voice, however.

Before she could reply though, a hand snaked around her waist and Rowan appeared at her side. Lizzie let out a small gasp of pain as she rested her head on Lizzie’s injured shoulder, a girlish giggle escaping her mouth.

Although Rowan didn’t exactly dismiss alcoholic drinks as a whole, Lizzie knew her to be rather restrained when it came to drinking at parties, especially since she had been appointed prefect. It made seeing Rowan as drunk as she obviously was even stranger.

“Lizzie, there you are! I have been looking for you all over the place,” she shouted into Lizzie’s ear a lot louder than she had to. Lizzie tilted her head away from her to protect her eardrums from bursting.

“Skye has been looking for you, you should go find her,” Rowan explained, her voice slurry. She tried to talk matter-of-factly but the slight swaying as she stopped leaning on Lizzie for support vastly undermined her effort to appear sober.

Scanning the crowd, Lizzie could see Skye joking around with Tonks and Penny. Apparently, they had been able to calm the waves. It did not appear to her as if Skye was searching for anyone though, let alone her.

She started telling Rowan, but was silenced by the pointed look her friend gave her. Her eyes flickered to Orion for a moment, who was watching them patiently. The penny finally dropped on her.

“I’d better go and see what she wants then.” She winked at Orion, her hand resting on his arm for a moment. ”Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”

She left the two of them standing, while she made her way towards her friends, the spicy scent that had shaken her earlier still hanging in the air.

[johannesviii]

A Useless Post Rating the Preppers From Death Stranding

Because I can and I will. I got super attached to some of these bunches of pixels while playing, and I want to share my useless and extra subjective opinions

No plot-related spoilers. This is only listing the Preppers and not any Bridges employee from the various cities and facilities. No reasonable individuals to be found here, only strange people living in bunkers, baby

Let’s go

The Ludens Fan

Shelter placement: On a mountain, right between a Timefall zone and MULE territory, and not on any obvious delivery route. Not great. The view is super nice, though. 6/10

Prepper: A cinnamon roll who believes the world will be saved by fandoms and games. Always happy to see you. Gets super excited when you find old figurines for him. Sends lost stuff to people he doesn’t even know. Has toy dinosaurs.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: He is a Friend. 9/10

The Musician

Shelter placement: Hidden behind a little cliff, on a mountain, in a patch of nice fresh moss, next to a cool waterfall, overlooking the whole valley. Not on any delivery route whatsoever but come on. This guy is living the dream. 10/10

Prepper: Talks to you as if he’s known you since highschool. Has an emo haircut. Very passionate about rock albums from the “beginning of the 21st century” so I’m assuming he’s a fellow MCR fan. The walls of his shelter are covered in vinyls. Wants to create and share the music of the future for free. Streams his concerts on the chiral network.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A harmonica. You can play it. I’m in love

Opinion while playing: Hell yeah what a cool dude 10/10

The Engineer

Shelter placement: In plain view right next to a huge road and two MULE territories. Dude didn’t even try to hide and his packages are stolen all the time. At least the weather is nice? 3/10

Prepper: Has spent his entire life inside of this bunker since birth. Polite and a bit shy. Has a friendly smile. Judging by the amount of alcohol we deliver to him, feels lonely. Sometimes you’ll find gallons of lube with his name on it and he’ll refuse to give any kind of explanation and to be fair the guy probably uses it for all his mechanical inventions. But deep down, we know.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Power Skeleton. You know you want them.

Opinion while playing: Another Friend. I will judge him silently every time I have to bring him his lost lube though. 9/10

The Craftsman

Shelter placement: Next to a huge road on a plain ravaged by Timefall, between two MULE territories and a voidout crater choke-full of BTs. Can potentially see the nightmarish ruins of a roadside factory and a traffic jam where everyone clearly got killed. I don’t know if I hate it or respect the shit out of it. 2/10

Prepper: Suspicious of us. Sends us on a suicide mission to fetch old equipment in a terrifying place. Hates Fragile, so we can’t be friends. Likes to fix broken watches, apparently. A lot of his lost packages seem to be special reinforced underwear. I’m curious but also I don’t want to pry.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom hematic grenades. Can’t live without them.

Opinion while playing: A suspicious little shit and I don’t trust him but he’s still a good ally. 5/10

The Elder

Shelter placement: On a majestic plateau in the middle of the region, overlooking everything. Not on any obvious route, which is a problem, but also away from danger, Timefall and MULEs. A green little patch of heaven. 9/10

Prepper: Old and kind but takes no shit from anybody. All of his emails are like “anyway, f█ck the government and f█ck this country” and I’m living for it. Will give away old photo albums, books and games predating the Death Stranding, in hope they can be shared with other people and their kids. Wholesome as hell.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: The most valid boomer you will ever see. My adoptive grandfather and I must protect him at all costs. 10/10

Peter Englert

Shelter placement: Not on any obvious delivery route but right next to Lake Knot City on a plain ravaged by Timefall. You can see Middle Knot City’s crater from there. Not a bad spot, but also no good vibes whatsoever. 6/10

Prepper: Never at home, has no hologram and keeps finding terrible excuses not to be there, which is rude. Possibly imaginary friends and relatives. Writes extremely long and well-spoken, obsequious, smarmy emails to you and you’ll receive them at the worst possible moments, like he just knows. Only interested in pizza, and you.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Hope you like high quality guns, and very disturbing journal entries.

Opinion while playing: Was literally calling him my nemesis even BEFORE learning anything about the guy. The best and the worst prepper at the same time. Go f█ck yourself, dude, I love you. Pizza/10

The Timefall Farmer and the Environmental Scientist

Shelter placement: Right next to a huge MULE territory. There’s the Tar Belt in the distance and no city, road or friends for miles. Very awkward. 4/10

Preppers: Planned to study the effects of Timefall on plants and became farmers instead. They are not enjoying it one bit and you’re under the impression they occasionally get on each other’s nerves even though they’ve been colleagues for years. The concept of their farm is a fantastic bit of worldbuilding, though, but they are a bit bland themselves.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A goose hologram. I need it

Opinion while playing: They’re super nice but their general weariness is too contagious for comfort. 4/10

The Film Director

Shelter placement: In the middle of jagged rocks, reasonably far away from local MULEs and Timefall, but also from any kind of road or decent delivery route. The ground is a poisonous reddish brown with occasional smoke. Ominous. 5/10

Prepper: Really worried about ancient media getting lost and forgotten, and will do anything to save old movies from oblivion. Trusts you instantly. Is always surprised you brought something for him, or just thought about him, and it’s heartwarming to see. Geeks about things he likes in your emails when he isn’t low-key flirting with you. Has the most epic beard you will ever see in your life.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A rock hologram. Uh?

Opinion while playing: Came for the geeking, stayed for the flirting  8/10

The Collector

Shelter placement: Inside a cavern two-thirds up a vertical rock face in a canyon slap bang in the middle of MULE territory. Invisible from ground level, and invisible from the bottom of the canyon. The MULEs live literally next door and don’t even know the guy is there. No chill whatsoever. Incredible. What a king. 10/10

Prepper: Shaped like a friend. Loves videogames and loves geeking about them. Fascinated by pre-Stranding press like “people were buying newspapers? On real paper?? :O”. Really wants you to read his emails because he’s got nobody to share his special interests with. Wants to write about your adventures to inspire other people. Occasionally you’ll find a lost package with a vintage playstation and you know it’s for him even without looking at the name on the tag.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A backpack cover to protect your stuff from Timefall?? holy shit?

Opinion while playing: We have no choice but to stan. 9/10

The Junk Dealer

Shelter placement: On a heavily polluted, rust-colored hill in the middle of a scrapyard full of broken down cars, overlooking both MULE and BT territory AND some f█cking terrifying ruins on all sides. It’s metal as shit, but also, the dude’s got a death wish. 3/10

Prepper: Tries to emotionally blackmail us with videos of his supposedly dead girlfriend. Very rude. Sends us on a suicide mission in BT territory to look for junk just for a laugh. Is such a piece of shit he got divorced by a woman who was willing to be carried under heavy Timefall through a horde of BTs to see him. Killed his girlfriend’s parents and didn’t tell her.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the Speed skeleton, and also chiral ladders, which are both life-saving, and I hate the fact that I need those so much.

Opinion while playing: A piece of shit and a terrible human being. Go sit on some rusty metal in BT territory, my dude. 1/10

The Chiral Artist and her Mother

Shelter placement: Overlooking a bottomless lake of tar and depressing ruins plagued by Timefall, far from civilisation but also far from trouble. Depressing, but safe. 6/10

Preppers: A little ray of sunshine. Capable of planning a journey on foot while avoiding Timefall and BTs after having done the trip exactly once (1) and on our back, which makes her one of the bravest Preppers we ever meet. Talented as hell with chiralium. Very awkward speech patterns and elocution which I always find relatable. Makes extremely bad choices regarding her love life. Will send you likes in a cringy but cute way. I don’t really trust her adoptive mother too much but she seems to be friends with the Cosplayer and any friend of the Cosplayer is my friend.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral boots. Literally the most useful thing anyone anywhere gave me in this game. No matter how far I am from her and her mom I will backtrack to get some brand new chiral boots from her every time I need them. They are that good

Opinion while playing: I love her but she’s making extremely bad life choices and it’s giving me mild anxiety 8/10

The Cosplayer and the Wandering MC

Shelter placement: At the very bottom of a long, narrow canyon plagued by Timefall, inside a vertical hole in the ground. How they haven’t both drowned yet is beyond me. This is the worst idea ever. 1/10

Prepper: Both of them are always super excited to see you. Trade a ton of art and crafts supplies back and forth with everyone in the region. Organised a goddamn post-apo cosplay convention through the chiral network. She considers cosplay to be ‘the art of transformation’, and he’s a big fan of you, and also otters. Otter facts. Dad Jokes to the max. Legends only

Will I get something nice if I help them: Backpack custom options. And the otter hood. Come on. Who doesn’t want to look like an otter. According to the MC it was “threaded and triple stitched by [his] cosplay partner using silk”. I don’t deserve this gift

Opinion while playing: Just because it’s the apocalypse doesn’t mean you can’t look and feel your best 10/10

The Doctor and the Medical Device Engineer

Shelter placement: Overlooking a little river in the mountains, right before the snow starts. Extremely close to Mountain Knot City. Practical and beautiful. Lovely spot. 8/10

Preppers: She invented and crafted a medical terminal that allows doctors to examine patients remotely through the network, and distributed it for free. He’s sitting on years of medical knowledge and stockpiles of meds, and also sharing both with everyone. Got married because they admired each other so much and shared a common hatred of the lack of medical assistance post-Stranding. Two absolute angels. We don’t deserve them

Will I get something nice if I help them: Custom blood bags. A must during boss fights.

Opinion while playing: A bit too serious, but mad respect. 7/10

The Photographer

Shelter placement: In the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, overlooking the valley, but away from everything and everyone, next to BT territory and daaaangerously close to the biggest Demens camp in the entire country. Who told you this was a good idea. 4/10

Prepper: The walls of her shelter are decorated with photos of beautiful landscapes. Friendly but takes no shit. Constantly trying to go out to take pictures of cool places and weird paleoart and stuff even though there’s a whole gang of terrorists outside firing live ammo at anyone on sight. Her cameras get stolen all the time, and yet she keeps doing it again and again. Judging by one delivery she sent to Mountain Knot City, she even has footage of Edge Knot City. You know. The unreachable nightmarish place beyond the f█cking Tar Belt. HOW

Will I get something nice if I help them: Guns because she clearly has no chill

Opinion while playing: This woman has more nerves in her left pinky than I have in my entire f█cking body. We stan a queen 9/10

The Novelist’s Son

Shelter placement: In a vast, beautiful green plain full of rivers and lakes, kind of in the middle of nowhere but also at a safe distance of the Demens territory. It’s painted the same green as the rest of the plain, which is a stroke of genius. 8/10

Prepper: Considering his title and the fact that the walls of his shelter are full of bookshelves, I expected a pretentious writer of sorts. But no. He doesn’t write. He’s just a soft boy who wants to save the world with plants. Will make sure you read his emails because he’s very passionate about gardening, gourds and mythology, and wants to talk about it with everyone. Too good for this world, too pure.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Special cryptobiotes! Pretty cool. I want to save some for Fragile

Opinion while playing: I love him I love thinking about him 10/10

The Roboticist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains, but in some sort of hollow, surrounded by snow and rocks on all sides. There’s also a nice hot spring nearby. Feels strangely safe and pleasant for such an isolated spot. 7/10

Prepper: Super approachable and quite friendly. Clearly a genius considering how good the all-terrain skeleton is. The stuff she’s looking for goes from stuff for her projects to a plush for her kid or a vintage coffee machine. Her emails, meanwhile, are shit-your-pants terrifying, like her wondering if machines should replace humans, or pranking you by pretending she was dead the whole time and her hologram is an IA. Thank you for the heart attack.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Upgrades for the all-terrain skeleton, hell yeah baby

Opinion while playing: I’m very conflicted because her emails are scary as shit but if she stepped on my face I’d say “thank you” 8/10

The Mountaineer and the Mountain Guide

Shelter placement: On top of a mountain but in a relatively flat and safe area, very isolated but also far from Beached Things, with good visibility. There’s logic to the madness. 6/10

Preppers: Initially in panic mode due to a medical emergency. Tough outside, but soft inside. He gives you precious advice about whiteouts and how to deal with them and stay alive in the mountains. We don’t know much about her, except she used to explore the mountains using chiral climbing anchors. Just speculation but I’m under the impression they met one day on a super dangerous expedition and ended together because they were both tough as nails, or maybe because they saved each other. Their kid is going to be unstoppable.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Chiral climbing anchors.

Opinion while playing: Wholesome couple of adventurers. A bit bland, but in a good way 7/10

The Spiritualist

Shelter placement: On a mountain peak in the middle of a whiteout area, but sometimes the weather can be decent and the view pretty nice, if you squint. Getting there feels like a test to join a secret cult and I don’t like that one bit. 3/10

Prepper: Twin sister of the Cosplayer, but gives off a very different vibe, like some sort of white suburban mom who’s discovering new age stuff. Has a very mystical approach to this whole apocalypse thing but seems to be wayyy too much into it for comfort. Really wants to see the Beach and tries to do so through meditation. We can receive chemicals from her. I do NOT want to know what’s in there.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A RACCOON HOLOGRAM?? I LOVE IT

Opinion while playing: Harmless but she scares me. 3/10

The First Prepper

Shelter placement: On a nearly inaccessible mountain peak battered by snow storms. The slope is so dangerous I straight up died once while walking on it. Absolutely nothing for miles and no visibility. That’s not a shelter, that’s a coffin. 1/10

Prepper: Apparently his family has lived in shelters ever since the beginning of the Cold War, then decided to stay there in case the world would end in the year 2000, then because of the Bush era, and long story short the guy is like “I did it before it was cool” and he’s literally gatekeeping other Preppers and calling them amateurs. Tries really hard to convince us to stop helping people and get our own shelter. At least he admits self-sufficiency is a mirage in the end, which is more than I expected from this clown.

Will I get something nice if I help them: A hat, and a wolf hologram

Opinion while playing: When the nicest thing I have to say about a Prepper is “well they’re not hurting anybody”, you know it’s bad. What a jerk 2/10

The Evo-Devo Biologist

Shelter placement: On an isolated snow slope away from civilisation, overlooking ruins and geysers in the distance. Not far from BT territory and terrorists, but still at a reasonable distance. Next to a hot spring. The view is majestic as f█ck. 9/10

Prepper: Looks strict and gives off severe teacher vibes, but you’re under the impression that’s purely because she hasn’t seen or talked to another human being in years. Polite but distant. Thinks the sixth mass extinction is a golden opportunity for science, and inevitable, and that we should study the shit out of it even if we end up dying. She’s not wrong exactly but also, yikes

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I genuinely have no idea. An enigma. 5/10

The Geologist

Shelter placement: High in the mountains on a desolate snowy slope, completely isolated from everything. I think I’ve seen a movie about that kind of place once, except it was a hotel. 2/10

Prepper: The first package we bring to him is a shipment of meds to fight chiral contamination. No more nightmares or suicidal thoughts after that, so he’s ok. Also he’s obsessed with Heartman to the point you wonder if he’s got a crush on him, belittles himself and his work constantly, and also thinks saving the world is a waste of time and effort. No no he’s still ok, he swears. But yeah uh. Dude is clearly one small step away from blowing a fuse and going full Demens, we need to sit down and talk about your problems my friend

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: I like him but he worries me a lot and I’m a bit scared for him 7/10

The Paleontologist

Shelter placement: In a little valley in the mountains, where grass and snow meet, miles away from civilisation and roads, but also miles away from problems. If there wasn’t this pit full of toxic gas literally next door, this would be perfect. 8/10

Prepper: Likes to complain about everything and everyone. A bit rude but more in a familiar way than an unpleasant way. Extremely passionate about fossils and prehistoric stuff and gets super excited about ammonites in particular. Mentions exploring a place full of toxic gas without any kind of protection just to fetch some neat rocks once, so we both clearly have the same level of survival instincts when our special interests are involved.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really, unless you count level 2 Hematic Grenades

Opinion while playing: Relatable as shit. I feel like I’d be this guy if I existed in this game’s world. 9/10

The Veteran Porter

Shelter placement: Nowhere Man lives on a very abrupt slope full of rocks in the middle of Nowhereburg, Nowhere State, Nowherica. You get the feeling he knows the region like the back of his hand and picked that spot exactly for that reason and frankly, I have to respect that. 7/10

Prepper: Ex-Porter with a damaged spine. A retired adventurer, exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Higgs used to be his boss back when he was still working at Fragile Express so the dude has massive trust issues now and I won’t argue with that. Initially suspicious of us and Bridges, for good reasons. Every time I found a super isolated bunker signed under Fragile Express I was like “woah their employees were hardcore to find all these places that Bridges couldn’t find”, and he’s one of these guys, and I get it now. And he’s tired. So tired. A whole mood.

Will I get something nice if I help them: Not really.

Opinion while playing: Unlike the First Prepper I respect the shit out of him and I want him to enjoy his well-earned retirement 8/10

[liskantope]

I ran into this 1988 video of Bernie Sanders, then-mayor of Burlington, VT, interviewing two youths ("mall punks") as part of a campaign to interview a diversity of Burlington people. Those two youths, who realize at the time that their interviewer was the mayor and had forgotten about the whole event by decades later, reconnected recently and were interviewed again in this video from a year ago -- it looks like they grew up to be pretty cool people, both big Bernie supporters, and just as unconventional in appearance 30+ years later. Below are some aimless ramblings instigated by thinking about this video.

I've always had a gut attitude about people who choose transgressive ways to present themselves, which I don't endorse as an actual ethical stance (for the record, the right to present oneself in the way one chooses should always be respected, and while it's not entirely unreasonable to make some assumptions about such a person, this kind of prejudging should be cautious and limited). My feeling has been this: while some unconventional presentations flatter the appearance of certain people and some of even the most quirky and eccentric styles make me smile, I feel turned off by a person who makes themself look unconventional in a blatantly ugly way. I realize that ugliness is very subjective, but the point is not so much whether I find someone's presentation ugly but that I often sense that the person themself is trying on some level to look ugly. In other words, some people seem to choose an appearance not based on looking "nice" or flattering or aesthetically pleasing but rather the opposite in order to send a message, and I have a gut-level aversion to this mentality. My instinct is to consider "I feel nice-looking this way" as the only valid reason for this kind of personal choice.

For me, the "mall punks" in the video do fit into the category of people who seem to have deliberately made themselves worse-looking purely for the purpose of sending a message, and their explanations for their presentations support this impression. To me their reasoning follows a curious path which goes something like

society doesn't accept people people who deviate from the norm;

we oppose this; and

the logical response is to deviate from the norm as much as possible.

When I stare at this from one angle I can see a sort of logic to this, but the rest of the time the logic feels subtly warped and even sinister. I'm too tired to fully pick this apart right now. There are some faint notes -- only faint, mind you -- of what we might call the South Park Goth Kids Mentality of "in order to be an nonconformist, you have to dress like us and listen to the same music we do." Taking a stance against having to present a particular way somehow doesn't quite translate to aiming for the opposite of that particular way.

I suppose a steelman of the punk teenagers' views could be that the range of lifestyles/presentations of individuals in society is simply too narrow -- there's simply not enough diversity here, even if there's nothing especially inherently wrong with the particulars of the median lifestyle/appearance itself, and that the mall punks are choosing to signal a protest against this phenomenon. Either way, I still struggle with feelings of disapproval of someone looking a certain way purely for signalling purposes, but I think something even deeper is going on with me in that I just can't relate to their instinctive disgust for the narrowness of the range of "normal" lifestyles/presentations. I believe this goes along with my extremely unrebellious, non-radical, pro-incrementalism, anti-revolution instincts. I was recently rereading the play A Thousand Clowns (by Herb Gardner, I think easily the most obscure work that I know deeply as nobody I've ever mentioned it to knows it) and there is a line in the third act that speaks to me enormously even while I don't feel all of it applies to me:

I am willing to deal with the available world and I do not choose to shake it up but to live with it. There's the people who spill things, and the people who get spilled on; I do not choose to notice the stains, Murray. I have a wife and I have children, and business, like they say, is business. I am not an exceptional man, so it is possible for me to stay with things the way they are. I'm lucky. I'm gifted. I have a talent for surrender. I'm at peace. But you are cursed; and I like you so it makes me sad, you don't have the gift; and I see the torture of it. All I can do is worry for you. But I will not worry for myself; you cannot convince me that I am one of the Bad Guys. I get up, I go, I lie a little, I peddle a little, I watch the rules, I talk the talk. We fellas have those offices high up there so we can catch the wind and go with it, however it blows. But, and I will not apologize for it, I take pride; I am the best possible Arnold Burns.

[marveliciousfanfics]

Hurt feat. Thor x OC

Summary:

The God of Thunder is going through a tough time. His friends do not validate his feelings, so it must be okay to feel this way. Jasmin, the newest Avengers, knows the meaning of being sad. She sees what Thor is going through and decides to help him.

TW: deals with depression. PTSD.

word count: 10,847 (yeah this is the longest one shot I think I’ve ever written.)

Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters, but I do own this plot and my OC

Author's Note: It's something I wrote and just couldn't stop writing. Is it a little far fetched? Yeah, but that's the beauty of fanfiction...I can do what I want. Enjoy! This was very therapeutic for me.

Thor was having troubling sleeping, but what else was new? Being at the compound felt weird for him. He wasn’t oblivious to the looks and the comments. But he deserved them. He was no hero. He was worthless. Even now as Tony and that rabbit built that time machine, he could hardly keep up with them. His dreams didn’t help. He kept reliving the most horrible moments of his life over and over again.

A beer will help him get some sleep, he thought to himself as he made his way to the kitchen. He heard noises as he got closer. Someone else was up. He turned the corner to see who it was.

Jasmin was there with some earphones in. She looked to be in the process of making a sandwich. Thor’s stomach growled. He didn’t have dinner since he had slept through it. Jasmin wasn’t someone Thor knew. Apparently, she joined after the Snap. She helped Natasha run the compound and did some missions on her own. A good soldier and the only one who didn’t give him any looks or made any comments.

Her brown hair was up in a ponytail as she jumped up and down to something. It wasn’t the normal Midgard music he was used to. Similar to Tony’s but definitely more aggressive. He could hear it and he caught a word here and there.

“You gonna stand there or do you want a sandwich?” she turned her head to face him and Thor smiled. She was good.

“You don’t have to. I can make my own,” he walked into the kitchen.

“Nah, it’s all good,” she turned back around. He walked so he was in front of her where she laid everything needed for a good sandwich. “What do you like?”

“Surprise me,” Thor took a seat on the barstool. He could still hear the music even though she had turned it down. Her head continued to bob as she made him something. His eyes caught glimpses of scars down her arms. She wore a tank top and it revealed tattoos she had on her upper arms.

Jasmin started to mumble the lyrics and he could understand it a little more. After a few minutes, she placed a sandwich in front of him. It looked good.

“Go ahead,” she smiled at him. “Want a beer?” she asked as she walked to the fridge. “I went to the store earlier and got some Coronas and Modelos because I am sick of Miller and Budlight.”

“Sure,” he didn’t mention it was the reason he had come down in the first place. “You normally drink beer at 1 in the morning?”

She brought back two glass beers. She picked up the butter knife she had used to spread the mayo, wiped it clean on a towel, and then used it to open the beers. He was fascinated by how easily it came to her. She placed the beer next to his plate.

“I mean, I think propriety has gone out the window five years ago,” she scoffed.

Thor took a big swing of his beer almost finishing it. His fault. Five years ago. If she noticed the change in his demeanor, she didn’t say anything. They ate and drank in silence. She picked up her phone and scrolled through it and then the music changed. It was different. Not what she was listening to before.

“Why did you change it?” he asked as he chewed his food.

“You can hear it?” she gestured to her ear.

“I am a God,” he half smiled and then scolded himself. He didn’t deserve to smile. Jasmin picked up her phone again and changed it back. “I like it. What is it?”

“Tony calls it trash. It’s part of rock music. I mean it ranges from metal core to pop punk.”

“How did you meet everyone?” Thor had vaguely paid attention to be honest since he came back.

“Well, I met Natasha, Steve and…Sam when they were nomads,” she had a hard time to say Sam’s name he noticed. Former lovers? “They saved me out of a human trafficking ring from Europe. And Nat took me under her wing for two years. I was there in Wakanda.”

Thor’s face paled. So, she saw his failure? He didn’t remember her. He flinched when the scene played in his head. Thanos right in front of him. The snap of his fingers.

“Hey,” Jasmin touched his hand and he flinched. “You said you liked my music. Wanna hear some songs?”

She didn’t wait for his answer. She removed her earphones and then pressed something on her phone and the music began to play loudly.

She lowered it just a bit.

Thor leaned over to see that it was a song called ‘Walls’ by The Color Morale.

“I love this band,” she took a bite of her sandwich and talked as she chewed. “Their album ‘Know Hope’ is the only thing that got me through my depression.”

Depression. The word wasn’t something they used in Asgard. But he had heard it often in Midgard.

“How do you know if you’re depressed?” Thor asked.

“You don’t really know it,” she swallowed her food and then drank some of the beer. “To me I felt I was just…lazy. I didn’t shower. I ate and I felt bad for eating so much so I would throw it up. It’s different for everyone. The most important thing is recognizing it for what it is.”

Thor was silent as he chewed on her words and his sandwich. He thought about his house back in Holland. The boxes and boxes of pizza. Endless bottles of beers. His physical being. His dirty clothes, hair and face.

“How did you get over it?” Thor cleared his throat.

“Honestly, I haven’t, but I don’t let it consume my life either. I’m supposed to take pills to help me, but it made me feel like a robot. I decided for now I could get through it. Hopefully I won’t ever need pills but once suicide comes into play, I call my therapist…Nat,” she chuckled. “She knows what I’ve been through, so I talk to her about it. It helps to talk about it.”

Thor frowned. “What’s this song?”

Jasmin smiled wider. “This one is called ‘The Hardest Part’ by Secrets.

Then it started to become a nightly thing. They would both meet at one in the morning in the kitchen. She would make something to eat and they’d eat it together as they talked about music. Well, she talked about music. She showed him some songs that help her when she’s depressed. Songs about hope. Songs about moving forward.

One night, Thor was looking forward to talking to Jasmin. He had looked up the lyrics of some of the songs and he had felt them deep within him. People who were expressing exactly like he was feeling. Thor wore a new sweater. It was still too big for him, but at least it was a new one. He had even cleaned his face and he removed his fingerless gloves.

But in the kitchen with Jasmin was Tony.

“Oh hey, Point Break,” Tony grinned. “FRIDAY told me about your rendezvous,” he pointed between them.

“We eat and we drink, Tony,” Jasmin didn’t sound happy. “He just came down to talk trash on my music choice.” She told Thor.

“It’s not that bad,” Thor shrugged.

“She got you hooked on her emo music?” Tony laughed.

“Emo?” Thor joined them and he stood beside Jasmin.

Jasmin narrowed her eyes at Tony. “And so, what? Are you the mighty gate keeper of rock music?”

“How can you compare it to Led Zeppelin?”

“No one is. But you are,” Jasmin defended herself. “Music is music. If I like it, I listen to it. I have no guilty pleasures when it comes to music, Tony. I love it for what it is.”

“Poetic. This is boring. I’ll let you two get back on your date,” Tony walked away before either of them could tell him otherwise.

“So ready to make some brownies?” Jasmin clapped her hands and turned to face him. Her eyes finally took in what he was wearing, and she smiled. Baby steps. That’s all that mattered. “Are you allergic to walnuts?”

Thor smiled. He smiled for the first time in years. A genuine smile. “No, I’m not.”

The next day Thor woke up with dread in his gut. His dream—or nightmare had been just the same. He realized he had gone a couple of days without them and now that it was back, he hated it. Tears formed behind his eyes and then moved down his cheeks. The scream of his people being slaughtered haunted him. Seeing his best friend die. His brother as well.

Thor inhaled and tried to feel like he did yesterday, but it wasn’t working. So, he decided to give into the darkness. He got up and went to the fridge and got all the beer. He drank them in the kitchen, and he heard everyone else wake up.

“Hey, meeting in five,” Natasha tapped his back.

Thor burped. “Uh, I don’t think…I shou—”

“No excuses, Thor,” Natasha walked away before he finished. He rolled his eyes and he decided to walk to the conference room now. He was the first, so he took the seat at the corner of the room.

Jasmin walked into the conference room last. This meeting was supposed to be about the stones. She looked around the room and saw Thor at the corner. She took a seat next to Scott.

“All right so the how works,” Steve took the lead in the meeting. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six infinity stones.”

Jasmin was actually glad she wasn’t one of them.

“Or substitute the word ‘encounter’ for ‘damned near killed’ by one of the six infinity stones,” Tony said.

“Well, I haven’t,” Scott said next to her. “But I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.”

Jasmin’s eyes went to Thor and he seemed to be okay. He had his glasses on. A drink in his hand but breathing evenly. She realized he was sleeping. She also realized she wasn’t paying attention.

“So let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Steve spoke and all eyes went to Thor.

When he didn’t move, Jasmin groaned.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha asked.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead,” Rhodey joked.

Jasmin was sick of his jokes. And Tony’s and sometimes even Natasha. She stood up and made her way over to Thor. They clearly were ignorant to their friend being a deep depression and preferred to make fat jokes instead of helping him. She shook him lightly.

“Thor,” she placed her hand on his arm. He didn’t move. “THOR!” she clapped her hands in front of his face and he jolted awake.

“I’m fine!” he shouted. His breathing quickened and then he visibly relaxed when he saw it was her. “Oh hey, Jasmin. Wh-what is going on?”

“We’d like to know about the Aether,” she stood up and gestured to the others. “Come on,” she encouraged with a smile.

He stood up and made his way to the front of the screens. He started to explain, and Jasmin realized just how much he had digressed. He had been doing better yesterday but he had gone down again. She knew something had triggered him. Probably the night terrors he had. Her room was next to his, so she knew very well about his nightmares. It kept her up sometimes and it broke her heart when she could hear him call out names.

Loki.

Heimdall.

Mother.

Father.

“Eggs? Breakfast?” Tony offered Thor.

“No, I’d like a bloody Mary,” Thor chuckled and turned to Jasmin. “Would you like one, Jas?”

“Jas?” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “No one calls her Jas, she hates it.”

Jasmin clapped her hands. “I’ll go make breakfast and that bloody Mary. Also Chinese for dinner sound good? Also let me know if you want something, I need to leave this compound before I pound someone in the face.”

“I volunteer to go with you,” Thor raised his hand. “We need more beer. I drank it all.”

After breakfast, Jasmin took an SUV to drive. Big people meant a lot of food. Hulk alone ate for ten people, so she had to bring a lot of groceries. She had called up the Chinese food place ahead to make sure to make enough food for about twenty people.

Thor got into the passenger seat next to her. She turned the SUV on, and the music started to play. Her phone was automatically connected to the car. It played the song she had been listening to when she had been on her morning run.

It was ‘Tapping Out’ by Issues.

The drive was silent for the most part.

“You know you can sing it if you want to,” Thor said beside her. “I can see you mumbling the words. No judgement here,” he burped.

She smiled. “True. ‘So, I’m tapping out. Tapping out suffocating can I get out? All this drama is bringing me down!’”

Thor tapped his finger that was on his leg to the beat. He really did like the music she listened to. For the song she continued to song and he continued to bob to it. The song ended and changed to Avenged Sevenfold.

“This sounds like something Tony would listen to,” Thor commented.

“Probably. I do listen to all music. I just hate Tony for thinking mine sucks.”

“I like the music you listen to. It is good to know Midgardians have come a long way.”

“Did Asgard have like…therapists? Someone to talk to about problems?” she wondered.

He shook his head. “For a society very advanced in medicine we did not have ‘therapists. We were taught to just…deal with it.”

“By ‘it’ you mean trauma. Sounds unhealthy,” Jasmin commented. “Being here have you thought about talking to someone?”

“I talk to you,” he mumbled as he stared out the window. “You’re the one person who has listened. Truly listened.”

Jasmin’s blood boiled hearing that. They were supposed to be his friends. They had known him longer. She understood they were under an enormous amount of pressure but what was the chance they would make it? Not very likely, so why were they brushing Thor’s mental state under the rug?

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m here, Thor,” she meant it. She would become the friend he needed.

“Everyone has tried…for years. I don’t seem to be getting better.”

“It’s not a race,” she told him. “You haven’t even tried until recently. You won’t know until you try. Look this quote is what actually got me through my depression. ‘You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to go down that road and you surrender to your lowest instinct. In the darkest time, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength’.”

Thor took the words in slowly. He smiled as he dissected them. “That sounds like a very wise person.”

“Uncle Iroh sure made some good points,” she chuckled. “It’s from a cartoon I used to watch when I was younger. Before…I was taken.”

“How were you taken? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Foster kid. No one cares about a missing 17-year-old foster kid,” she shrugged. “No one looked for me. Thought I’d run away or something.”

“You’ve really have been through hell, haven’t you?” Thor’s voice made her look at him. Two souls connected in that moment. She recognized his pain because she had seen it in the mirror for a long time after being saved.

“Yes. My hell did not become my home though. I made sure to crawl out, but I had help, Thor. Natasha helped me. Sam…he knew exactly what I had. PTSD. He helped too. I miss him.”

“Oh were you and him…lovers?” he cleared his throat.

Jasmin laughed. “No, no. It was never like that. He was just my best friend. A brother.”

“I am glad to be your friend, Jasmin,” he smiled at her. “I haven’t felt…worthy in a long time. I feel worthy of your friendship though.”

“You are worthy, Thor. No one should expect you to be okay after what you’ve been through. All the people you’ve lost.”

“I wasn’t strong enough to save them. I didn’t go for the head,” he half chuckled.

“Rocket told me you almost gave your life to make the Stormbreaker. Thor, you should not be so hard on yourself. What we have now is a rare second chance. And I mean rare. Time travel still seems to me like science fiction.”

“What do you want to do first if everything goes back to how it was?” Thor’s question startled Jasmin.

It wasn’t a question she allowed herself to ponder on. Mainly because if she was honest…she owed a lot to the snap. She had a purpose because of it. When it was all over, where would her place in the world be again? That terrified her. But even now she always felt like she was missing something. Like she was a piece of puzzle and she never quite fit in anywhere, but helping Natasha and getting to work with her had been almost perfect. Almost.

“I’d…hug Sam. I’d get to know Wanda more,” she was honest about that. Before the snap, she was skeptical around Wanda mainly because Jasmin knew what she could do. For a long time, people messed with Jasmin’s head, so she didn’t get close to Wanda even though she was really nice. “What about you?”

“Everyone I cared about died before the snap…no one would come back,” he murmured. “I don’t know. And that is the scary part. I’ve always known my path. All of my life. I would become the King of Asgard. When that didn’t really happen, I was okay with it, but then I had to take the role again when I decided to destroy my home. I was skeptical but kind of ready for it…and then Thanos happened.”

Jasmin was sure he never spoke to anyone about this. She felt special for being the person he trusted enough with these thoughts. They sounded familiar as well. He was in her shoes as well. Not finding one’s place in life even after everything.

“For now, in this moment…we are together,” Jasmin turned up the music of the song. It was an opening of anime and this was a side no one knew about. Thor grinned as he listened to it. She loved to see him smile. She sang along with it. “This is the English version. I love the Japanese version though.”

“You are truly wonderful, Jas,” Thor laughed.

“You best not tell Tony I listen to anime openings or he will definitely not let me live it down.”

Your life is your own!

Thor didn’t want this to end. He loved seeing her laugh. He loved seeing her sing to music. The passion in her eyes and the light in them gave him the courage that things would turn around. It gave him hope. She gave him hope and that was something no one had ever given to him before.

Then a song came on that got Thor’s attention. It was a guitar. Immediately Thor liked it. Then the gravel voice came on and it sent chills down his spine like his lightning did sometimes. The song spoke of being hurt. And it was as if it was speaking to him. The voice was haunting in a beautiful way. ‘Everyone I know goes away in the end’, that part brought the tears. He felt the hot tears. He had done his fair share of crying, but this felt different.

As the tears left his eyes, his chest felt lighter. He didn’t feel as heavy. Jasmin’s hand found his and she interlocked their fingers. She gave him a firm squeeze. Her way of saying ‘I understand. Let go’. The sobs came and he couldn’t stop them because he had no strength left. He released years of pain in minutes.

Jasmin pulled the SUV to the side of the road, placed the car in park and then just waited. She held his hand as Thor let go of everything he had built up for years.

A thunder started to form. Dark clouds over them and she squeezed his hand. Thor came out of it and realized what he was doing.

“Look at me,” Jasmin turned her body towards him. He looked at her and she was inhaling deeply, held it for seven seconds and then released it. “Do as I do.”

They did. He followed her breathing. He stared into her eyes as she helped him calm down. The clouds disappeared. The sun came back out. Thor felt something he had not felt in a very long time. Safe. Safe with Jasmin. She made him feel safe. Usually he was the one making others feel that. Always optimistic and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, but this time, in his darkest moment, she brought him back.

“You ready?” she asked.

Thor only nodded. He didn’t trust his voice. He cleared his throat.

“All right. Let’s continue then.”

They got the food. The Chinese food and headed back to the compound. He helped her bring in everything. She took the food to the table and yelled that the food was ready.

“Thank you for today, Jas,” Thor commented as he took out the food from the bags. They were putting away the groceries as the others began to eat.

“No problem. It was therapeutic for me as well.”

Thor smiled. It was therapeutic for him. She had a way to get him to open up. Because he knew, she would not judge him. She hasn’t judged him since he arrived. She recognized his pain. They shared it. For the first time in years, he felt the warmth of the light. A silver lining as he had heard before. All thanks to the Midgardian next to him.

At dinner there was more talk about the stones. Jasmin paid attention carefully to Rocket as he explained about the power stone.

The next morning Nebula talked about Vormir. Natasha was taking notes and Jasmin was too. Apparently, it was a celestial planet.

Jasmin thought about what Rocket and Nebula said about space. She never got to go to space. When the others had gone to space, Jasmin had stayed behind in Wakanda to help those who had not been snapped. She stayed there for two months, so when she got back to the compound and Natasha told her everything that happened…Jasmin’s depression returned. The stones had been destroyed and there was no way now to bring everyone back.

“So everything should be good to go tomorrow,” Tony told the team. “Jasmin finished making the suits yesterday,” he nodded at her. “Good job.”

“I didn’t pick the colors,” Jasmin raised her hands in defense. “I said black, but Tony said white and red.”

The night before the ‘time heist’ as Tony liked to call it. Jasmin couldn’t sleep. So she got up and took her earphones with her. Music always helped her. She didn’t want to wake anyone up because there was a bunch of super humans and assassins who had super hearing. So this time she went far enough to where she knew she would not disturb anyone.

She had a special playlist for tonight. It was early 2000’s rock music. It started with Alive by P.O.D. So in her pajamas she started to dance to it. She sang along but she tried to keep her voice low. She made the math in her head and she knew someone in the group wasn’t going to make it. Music had always been an escapism for her. It got her through her depression, and it was how she released her stress. And she was extremely stressed at the moment.

The song changed to a little more mellow one. 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins. This playlist reminded her of the time when life was a little better. She was in foster homes ever since she was nine. The radio was the only way she could listen to music since she didn’t have money. There was one radio station that played all the good music and this playlist had all of those songs.

Minutes later, Jasmin felt someone watching her so she took off her earphone and turned to the entrance and saw a familiar face.

“Hey, Nat,” Jasmin was breathing hard since she was moshing to Fat Lip by Sum 41. Always a song to get her heart pounding.

Natasha was dressed in her pajamas as well. Her long hair in a braid to her right side. She walked into the gym.

“Letting out some stress?” she guessed but obviously she knew what it was.

“Yeah, we are kind of risking our lives for something we don’t even know if it’ll work,” Jasmin shrugged.

“About that. I think you should stay behind.”

Jasmin frowned. “What? Why? I’m going with Rhodey to get the power stone.”

“You said it yourself. It’s risky.”

Jasmin rolled her eyes. “Nat, don’t baby me. You know I hate it when you do.”

Natasha walked up to Jasmin and Jasmin saw something in Natasha’s eyes she had never seen before. Doubt. Fear. After all this time Nat had remained the strong one. The hopeful one. Jasmin didn’t like this look on her.

“Someone should stay behind in case something happens,” the readhead sat on a bench and patted the seat next to her. Jasmin took the seat. “You know the control board. Tony and Bruce trust you.”

“Sounds like it’s been decided for me,” Jasmin crossed her arms across her chest. “Nat, you’ve trained me for years. I’m good. You know that. I can kick ass very much like you.”

Natasha’s eyes sparkeled with pride. “Yes, I am aware, but do this for me, Jasmin,” Natasha grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Please.”

Nat had never said please. Not once. Jasmin couldn’t refuse her because Natasha was like a sister. They had a special relationship ever since she was saved by her. Natasha had believed in her. Trained her. Then when Jasmin’s depression had come, she stuck around. She pulled her out. Jasmin owed Natasha her life and she would do anything for her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I won’t be in that god-awful suit,” Jasmin laughed.

“You made them,” Nat laughed too.

“I sure as hell didn’t design it though. Tony has horrible taste.”

Natasha placed her arm around her neck and connected their foreheads together. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I really wanted to go to space,” Jasmin grumbled. Joking, but not really. She really did want to see space.

Thor didn’t want to admit it, but he was happy to hear that Jasmin wasn’t going to be part of the heist. He was well aware of the dangers of what they were doing. But he did see the disappointment in her face as Natasha told the team the change. Jasmin smiled and said she was happy to stay behind, but he sensed it. Her smile didn’t reach her ears.

She did change into fighting suit. It was like Natasha’s but burgundy and not as tight fit. Her hair was up in a bun. Something he had never seen. Her hair had been down all this time or at least in a ponytail. She looked like a fierce warrior. She had dual sword at her back. He realized he wasn’t sure what her specialty was. Clint was an arrow, Natasha was bullets and Jasmin was probably her sword.

Before he got on the platform, he walked up to her. Her back was to him as she pushed buttons and flicked switches. She sensed him so she turned around.

“Hey, you ready?” she looked into his eyes.

He was in fact nervous. He was going back in time to his home. The home he destroyed. A time when his mother was alive. Everyone he had lost would be alive and he wasn’t allowed to interact with any of them.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered vaguely.

She pursed her lips. “I wish I was going with you. I would have loved to see Asgard,” she whispered and smiled but then slowly dropped it. “I know it’s going to be hard for you to see your home…whole. But I have faith you will get through it. Remember…your life is your own.”

“And I must not let despair take over,” he returned.

“Yes,” she grinned. “Okay, let’s do this. Let’s bring everyone back.”

He got on the platform and joined Scott and Clint.

Bruce went over what she had to do one more time before he got on the platform. Steve gave her a quick hug and gave her encouraging words. Natasha hugged her tightly and Jasmin returned it. She inhaled deeply as she memorized Natasha’s scent. Cherry blossom shampoo.

“Come back to me,” Jasmin pleaded.

“You bet,” she replied.

Jasmin watched as everyone got on the platform. Steve started to give his speech. She listened as he encouraged them to do whatever it takes. She hated that she wasn’t going to help. But at least she wouldn’t have to wait long. Bruce told her to bring everyone back in exactly one minute. It should be enough time for everyone to get the stones.

“Okay…in three…two…one,” Bruce announced and then he pointed to Jasmin and she flicked the switch.

The machine came to life and in seconds everyone was gone.

Jasmin started the timer on her watch. She felt like she was on a roller coaster just hanging on the edge of the drop, but the drop wasn’t coming.

She started to jump to calm herself.

“Get it together,” she told herself. “They’ll be okay. Thor will be fine. Nat survived Budapest, so she can do this.”

She looked at her watch and then realized only fifteen seconds had passed. She wished she had that beer Thor had offered earlier.

Then it started to get closer to sixty seconds and she was even more nervous she almost threw up her dinner. She was startled as her watch went off. In a flash everyone was back. Jasmin didn’t wait and ran up to the platform. Her eyes went to Thor and she saw that he was all good. Her eyes went to where Natasha was supposed to be.

Jasmin felt the cold creep up from her chest all throughout her body. Clint dropped to his knees.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked.

Jasmin met Clint’s eyes and the sorrow in her told the whole story. Natasha was gone.

Jasmin released a scream from deep within her. She dropped to her knees as the pain became a physical one. Hands soothed her back and she barely recognized it. She screamed Natasha’s name. Howling how she promised she would be back. Jasmin turned her face and cried into what she recognized Thor’s chest. She held tightly to his shirt and screamed out her pain.

“No, no, no, she can’t be gone, Thor! I can’t lose her!” she cried into his chest.

“Shhh,” he kissed the top of her head. “Let it out. It’s okay.”

“NAT!” she cried until her lungs burned.

Thor joined the others at the lake.

“How is she?” Clint asked Thor. Jasmin had to be sedated. She didn’t stop crying. Thor held her for an hour, and he had felt so powerless. She had been able to help him through his breakdown but when she needed him, he didn’t know what to say. What to do.

“She’s asleep. Rocket is looking after her,” Thor commented.

Then they started to argue about Nat. Thor mentioned how they could just go back and save her. He hated to see Jasmin so hurt. It broke his soul to see the pain in her face. Clint told them that there was no reversing it. Bruce threw the bench across the lake.

They decided for Natasha they would continue. Her sacrifice would not be for nothing.

Jasmin woke up and for a few seconds she wasn’t sure why she was in her bed. Then it all came back to her. She took in her surroundings. She was still in her suit, but she had a blanket on top of her. She removed it from her body.

“Hey,” Thor’s voice came from her right. He sat in her small armchair she had. His eyes scanned her face.

“Was it a dream?” she whispered and felt the tears again.

“No, little bird, I’m sorry.”

She sat up and felt the pounding in her head. Thor got up from his seat and then handed her some pills.

“Bruce said it would help with your headache,” he commented as he poured her a glass of water from her pitcher. He handed her the glass. “Uh, they’re just about done putting the stones in the…glove thing.”

Jasmin chuckled lightly at his choice of words. She took the pills and then drank the water. After she swallowed it, she sighed.

“Sorry about earlier…I just…lost it,” she rubbed her eyes not worried about her make up.

“It’s quite understandable, little bird. You just lost someone important to you. To all of us. If you want to wait here—”

“No, no, no, I’m better now. I promise,” she got up from her bed to where he was.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. Let’s rejoin the others.”

Thor and Jasmin walked out of her room together.

“Wait, did I see your hammer earlier?” she asked as they walked.

“Ah, yes, I figured…we’d uh…need it in case something happens. We’ll put it back once this goes smoothly as possible.”

Jasmin smiled. She knew better. He just wanted to see if he was still worthy. If he was still a good man.

“I knew it,” she shoved him and smiled but then stopped. Natasha was gone. She shouldn’t be happy.

“Little bird, don’t give into the despair,” he stopped walking and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Little bird?” she questioned but was happy he was using her words against her.

He shrugged and she swore she saw his cheeks a little redder. “Uh, cause you sing. You like to sing like a bird. A cute bird though not like…a…hawk or something.”

Jasmin smiled. “Thank you, Thor. Let’s go get everyone back.”

Thor and Jasmin walked into the lab as the glove was done.

“Question is who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?” Rocket commented.

“I’ll do it,” Thor walked towards the glove.

Jasmin’s eyes widened.

“Excuse me?” Tony asked.

“It’s okay,” Thor turned to say that to Jasmin, but she was still processing what was happening. He was volunteering? No, she heard what happened to Thanos when he used it. And he had been a strong ass dude.

Steve and Ton stopped him from getting to the glove. They started to argue. Thor brought up that he was the strongest Avenger.

“Just let me do it,” Thor begged Tony. “Just let me do something good.”

Bruce nudged Jasmin. He looked down to her and nodded to Thor. He understood she was the only one who could get him to back down. Tony and the others were right. He was in no condition to hold something so powerful.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” Thor asked Tony and Jasmin started to walk towards him.

“Cheese whiz,” Rhodey commented.

Jasmin stopped in her tracks and glared at Rhodey.

“Enough!” she shouted. All eyes turned to her because she never spoke so harshly. “Thor, you are not putting that glove on. And the rest of you, enough with the jokes! Your friend is depressed! You think he wants to be? Maybe if you’d tried to help him, he’d be in better shape. Maybe if you’d been his friend then he’d feel worthy! But you all just turned a blind eye. For years! So…” she took in a deep breath and released it. “it looks like the stones are made of mostly gamma radiation.”

“So?” Rocket asked.

Jasmin turned to Bruce who had already figured it out.

“So, it’s like I was made for this,” Bruce acknowledged.

Everyone got into their suits. Steve, Tony, Scott and Rhodey. Thor took Jasmin to the side.

“No one has ever stood up for me before like that, little bird,” he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Thor,” she beamed.

“Stay near me. We are not sure what could go wrong, but I won’t let anything happen to you,” he caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

Jasmin wasn’t used to that intimate touching, but she didn’t mind it. “Okay.”

Everyone got around Bruce as he held the glove ready to put it on. Tony told FRIDAY to activate the Barn Door protocol. Heavy metal doors came down to close off the lab. Jasmin was nervous. She stayed close to Thor. He stood in front of her as a shield.

Jasmin watched as Bruce put the glove on. Immediately it glowed and something went up his arm. Bruce cried out in pain. Her heart started to pound against her ribs. She hated to see her friends in pain.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Thor demanded.

“Banner, are you okay?” Steve asked.

“Talk to me, Banner!” Tony shouted.

Bruce grunted but he said he was okay. Jasmin’s watch started to beep. She had forgotten it was still connected to the quantum machine. Someone had activated it from the year 2014. Then Bruce snapped his fingers. Then he fainted. Jasmin ran to him forgetting all about the notification on her watch. His entire right arm was black, and it looked horribly charred. Tony sprayed it with his freezing agent. Jasmin loomed over him and placed her hands on his cheeks.

“Bruce, can you hear me?” she asked as she opened his eyes, but he opened them on his own. She asked him to follow her finger as she moved it side to side and he did. Then a shadow went over his face. She frowned as she looked up and not a second after there were explosions.

Jasmin could hardly recall what happened next. She tasted blood and dirt in her mouth. Then she was covered in strong arms and were rolled around for a moment. She was sure she was dead. All she heard were the sounds of her heartbeat and someone else’s.

The world went black.

“Little bird,” Thor’s voice sounded like he was under water. A warm hand touched her face. “You’re bleeding.”

She opened her eyes and she was in the arms of Thor. Her head hurt worse than before, but she was alive. He looked down at her in relief.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

She nodded her head but winced when she frowned. She had a cut on her temple. She felt her legs and arms, so she was good. He helped her up and she looked around at the destroyed compound. Her eyes filled with tears. It was completely destroyed. The place she called home for years was gone in seconds. Her eyes went to the ship that hovered over them.

Thanos.

How? But quickly she made the connections in her head.

“Someone…brought them here,” Jasmin looked at her destroyed watch. “Right before Bruce snapped his fingers…someone opened it to the year 2014.”

The ship beamed someone down. Thanos. From where she was with Thor she could see it was only him. Then Nebula walked towards him.

“Nebula?” Jasmin’s heart shattered, but then she saw that Nebula remove the golden plate from her head. “Not our Nebula. 2014 Nebula who was still faithful to her father.”

Jasmin’s eyes roamed around for any sign of anyone else.

Thor didn’t move from his spot as he kept his eyes on Thanos.

“Thor?” she moved over to him.

“You’re hurt,” he finally took his eyes off of Thanos. “You should try to find the others.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m here with you.”

“Little bird,” he pleaded with his eyes, “I know you are strong, but the others need you too.”

Jasmin sighed and nodded. “Okay.” What did she expect? She was not a super soldier or a God. She didn’t have a special suit like Tony. But she could help the others. “Be safe. Kick ass.”

Thor grinned. “I will. Take care, little bird.”

On her way to find the others, she found Steve and Tony. She told them where Thor was. She said she was going to try to find the glove. Keep it away from the bad guys. Moments later she heard the thunder and lightning and she grinned. She made her way through the rubble.

In her search, she could hear them battling. She heard the grunts. The yells and the clashing of weapons. She did her best to concentrate.

“Can anyone hear me?” she said into her earpiece. But no one answered. It was probably broken. Okay, okay, if she was the glove, where would she be? She tried to remember where it had been before the attack. It had been kicked away by Clint. Then when she was attending to Bruce a cell had gone off. Clint’s. “Barton, do you copy?”

“Right here,” his voice came through. At least her earpiece wasn’t broken.

She sighed. “Do you have the glove?”

“Uh, yeah it’s secured. What do I do with it?”

“Keep it away from anywhere near Thanos for now. Let’s meet.”

Jasmin was on her way to find Clint when she came across the fighting. Thanos was beating everyone. Tony had been tossed around like a doll somewhere. She watched as her friends were getting hurt and she knew there wasn’t much she could do. But she could probably help a little bit. Just cause a distraction so her friends could recover and gain momentum.

Jasmin ran towards Thanos who just smacked Thor to the ground. His back was to her, so she used a boulder to jump off of—a trick Natasha had taught her. She held her knife in her hand as she got to Thanos’ back. She climbed his back until she was on his shoulders. His armor proved it difficult but not impossible. She brought down her knife aiming for the neck, but he moved and she hit his eye instead.

Her knife dug into his eye socket. He cried out in pain and then grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Jasmin’s breath was knocked out and she was sure ribs were broken. She looked up to see an angry Thanos. He removed the knife from his eye and tossed it to the side.

His eye held fury that froze her in place. Then his eye turned to wonder. He brought his steel weapon to under her chin and lifted her head.

“You don’t even know what you are, do you?” he grunted blood oozed out his wound, but he gave no indication if it hurt or not. “Do you not recognize your own people?”

Jasmin’s eyes widened as she stared into his. She did feel something. She had thought it was the nerves, but it was something else. A calling. Blood recognizing blood.

“Cousin,” he smiled, “it’s a pity to kill one of my own, but you must go.” He raised his weapon ready to strike her down, but Thor gets between them with Stormbreaker in hand.

“RUN!” Thor bellowed at her.

Jasmin scrambled to her feet and ran away. She wasn’t sure if she helped or not. But her world shook as she realized she made a connection with Thanos. Something told her he didn’t lie. She would have worry about that later. Right now, it was all about survival.

She couldn’t find Clint. She almost gave up when she heard it.

“Cap, can you read me?” Sam’s voice filled Jasmin’s heart with joy. “On your left.”

Suddenly there were round sparkly things close to her. She made her way back to where she had been. She came just as Sam flew out of the main circle that was in the middle.

“SAM!” Jasmin waved her arms. Others started to join. From Wakanda and from other places as well. But she watched as Sam landed next to her. She ran to him and she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Sam,” she sobbed. He hugged her back.

“You got older,” he chuckled as he pulled back to look at her. “You look…good.” He smiled.

“And you not a day older,” she teased back.

“We should join the others.”

They went to the others just in time. She stood by Steve. Thor was to her left. She heard as Steve said.

“AVENGERS!” He yelled and then said. “Assemble.”

Jasmin didn’t keep count of how many ugly things she killed. She gave in to all her instincts. She released all of her anger and hurt. She was covered in blood that was not red. She wasn’t sure for how long it went on.

“Does anyone have eyes on an ugly brown van?” Steve asked.

Valkyrie replied to him. “Yeah, but you’re not going to like where it’s located.”

Then blasts started to come from the ship. It was almost impossible to find cover. Every step she took would’ve been her last if she hadn’t moved as fast as she was. She felt someone place an arm around her waist and she knew it was someone on her side because if she had taken a step, she would have died.

“Be more careful, little bird,” Thor chuckled. He released her and she turned to him. His eyes went from her toes to her disheveled hair and grinned. “You’re a fierce warrior. I like this side of you.”

She grinned too. “Now you know all about me. All the sides to it.”

“I’m impressed.”

The blasts stopped coming and they both looked up to see something coming from the sky. It looked like a falling star and it made Jasmin grin.

It was Carol. She destroyed the ship and the fight was starting to look like it was going to go their way. She ran with Thor as they headed to help to keep the glove from Thanos. When they got there, Thor went first. Jasmin covered for them as she fought off anything that tried to intervene from the other side.

Out of the corner of her eye, as she twisted the neck of an ugly alien, she saw that Thanos was about to snap his fingers.

“I am inevitable.” He snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. Her eyes went to Tony and she stopped when she saw that he had the stones. He put them in his right hand. She remembered how it almost killed Bruce. Tony would surely die if he held them by himself. She moved out of instinct and she went to her knees beside him.

She grabbed his left hand and she gasped when she felt the power of the stones. Not just that…but the power inside of her. Untapped power. Dormant. Until now. It was painful. So painful. It was like her chest was slowly exploding, but she grunted through it.

“And I am…” Tony gasped, “Iron Man.” He snapped his fingers.

The world went white. Not black like the other times. And time suspended itself. Suddenly she was back in the compound’s kitchen. The air was clean and somehow, she felt like she was in world between worlds. There was a little girl eating cereal on the breakfast table. It was herself. As a nine-year-old.

Jasmin approached her nine-year-old self carefully.

“Hi,” Jasmin greeted herself.

“Hi,” the little girl replied back.

“Is this heaven?” Jasmin asked and she felt silly.

Little Jasmin giggled and shook her head. “You’ve always known there is no heaven or hell. You’ve always known you were different.”

Older Jasmin frowned. “Me?”

“You felt the connection to your cousin,” Little Jasmin didn’t ask but stated. “Your bloods are connected by ancient blood. Eternals.”

“Eternals?”

“Do you wish to know?” Little Jasmin stopped eating her cereal and even though she looked young, her eyes expressed wisdom of thousands of years. “Knowing will come at a great cost. But you will find out your purpose.”

Jasmin nodded her head. “I want to know.”

“The answers you seek are not on Earth then,” Little Jasmin went back to eating cereal.

“Why this place?” Jasmin asked.

“Because this is where you were your happiest,” the little girl replied. Jasmin knew what she meant. She had been her happiest around Thor.

And like a rubber band being snapped, she was pulled back to her world.

“Please, little bird, wake up,” Thor’s voice was filled with hurt. Jasmin hadn’t opened her eyes yet. It proved to be difficult more so than the other two times she blacked out already. “Please. I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you too. I will follow you into Valhalla if I have to, please don’t leave me.” Something wet hit her cheeks and then forehead. At first, she thought it was sweat, but it was tears.

Jasmin gasped awake her body convulsed like she had been drowning and it was her first breath.

“YES!” Thor boomed. His arms were holding her tightly to him. “You came back to me,” he pressed his forehead to hers. Now she felt his sweat that was across his forehead. Her hand went to his cheek. His beard was braided. She didn’t notice it before, but he looked like a Viking warrior. She always had a thing for Vikings. She licked her lips and before she took her next breath, Thor’s lips were against hers.

His mustache scratched her nose, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered her his soft lips moving against hers. It was a loving kiss. It was filled with love and everything else as well. Gratitude. Passion. She pulled from him when she felt she needed the breathe.

“Why did you do that?” he whispered against her lips and sounded a bit mad. “My heart stopped when I saw you take his hand.”

Jasmin shrugged. “I just…knew it was what I had to do. Where’s Tony?” She finally took the moment to take in her surroundings. All the bad guys were gone, but everyone was looking the same way, so she followed their eyes.

Tony was dead. His right side of the body was burnt. The reactor light of his suit was off. Jasmin got up to her feet. She touched herself. But nothing hurt. In fact, she was sure any wounds she had were healed. Because she remembered having a busted lip from a nasty punch she got and now it was gone.

Jasmin dropped to her knees just as everyone was doing it as well. Respecting another fallen legend. How was she alive? She shared the power and she should have been in the same condition as Tony. She flinched as she figured what Thanos had said was real. They were…related. Somehow. It allowed her to withstand the power of the stones. And the answers were not on earth.

Thor didn’t see Jasmin after the battle. He tried to talk to her, but she was busy rebuilding the quantum machine to return the stones. He did wonder why she didn’t have a scratch on her when he held her. He really did think he lost her because she had stopped breathing. Her body had gone limp and there was no heartbeat but when she woke up, he forgot all about it. He kissed her. He didn’t mean to, but he had been so relieved he just needed to express it.

He had loved to see her in action. She had moved so gracefully. She was good at anticipating the next move of her opponent. Something Natasha had surely taught her. He almost got hit a couple of times because he had watched her for so long.

Natasha’s funeral was hard. He did see Jasmin, but he didn’t approach her. There was no body to bury, so there was just a headstone built for her. She and Clint held each other.

Tony’s was even harder. Thor finally met Morgan. She was the spitting image of Tony. He hoped she would grow up knowing what an amazing man her father was. The man who would not sacrifice ended up sacrificing the most.

He saw Jasmin talk to Rocket and Quill. He wondered what it was, so he approached them.

“Hey,” he placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked over to him. He had missed her dearly. What he missed the most was her laughter. Her singing.

“Thor,” she turned to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Little bird,” he hugged her back. He kissed the top of her head. “Are you doing better?”

“Sorry I’ve been MIA. I just…had a lot to think about.”

Thor had come to read Jasmin and he could see she was struggling with something. Something big.

“I—uh—I’ve asked Rocket if I could join them,” she mumbled into his suit.

Thor stiffened. He didn’t expect that. She wanted to leave Earth.

“They’ve agreed since they knew it was me who stabbed Thanos in the eye,” she chuckled and then pulled back so they could look into each other’s eyes. “They said they’re dropping you off at New Asgard.” He searched her eyes for some kind of answer.

He understood the feel to escape when losing so many people. But was she running away? Or did she truly want to have a fresh start? He also knew this time was a fragile time because anything could put her back into her depression.

“Yes.” Was his only reply.

Jasmin wasn’t sure what she should pack. She definitely took a lot of toothpaste and several toothbrushes. She wondered if other planets had laundry mats or dry cleaners. How did it work? Or would she be in her dirty clothes for weeks? She was used to that as well. She also knew she shouldn’t pack to heavily. Definitely deodorant since she would be the only female besides Mantis. And of course, her music. Rocket had made her phone able to save all music ever created so far.

She spoke to Steve and Sam about her decision. They were skeptical at first. They didn’t know how she survived the stones, but it didn’t need to be said something was different about her now. The air around her was different and she saw the world with different eyes. Before, she didn’t feel like she had a path and now she knew what she had to do.

She had to find out what an Eternal was. Where she came from. And what her vision told her was that the answers were not on Earth. She hugged Steve and then hugged Sam.

“I’m gonna miss you, Jas,” he whispered into her ear. He kissed her temple. “You’ve been like my little sister. I hate we just got back together and you’re leaving.”

“I’ll be back. It’s not forever,” she smiled and pulled back from him.

Sam’s eyes glistened but he smiled through it. “Go kick ass in space.”

Jasmin left them and got into the ship. Thor was back in his regular clothes. She walked up to him and she held out a fist. He bumped it and chuckled. She was going on a new adventure and it was scary because she only really knew Rocket.

Jasmin wasn’t sure how to act around Thor. She still remembered the kiss. But a part of her feared he had only done it because it was an act of relief. So, she did what she knew best and acted like it never happened.

“Are you sure about going with them?” Thor asked once they were in the air and they were able to stand up and walk around. But they sat next to each other.

She nodded her head. “Not much left for me on Earth.” Did she a flash of hurt in his eyes after her comment? Thor was a King. He had his people to take care of. He had so much responsibility. Did she think about asking him to come? Yes. It kept her up at night. She wanted to explore space with him.

“Oh, right,” Thor cleared his throat. “Did you bring your music?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t survive without it.” She smiled. She pulled out her phone. She also took out her Air Pods and gave the left one to him. They had done this before. When she would make food in the kitchen and they didn’t want to wake anyone up, they used the Airpods. But something had changed between them.

She pressed the shuffle for all the songs, and it started to play ‘Shadowplay’ by The Killers. They just sat together and listened to music and the world seemed to fade away.

She laughed at his attempt to sing some of the songs. She liked he had opinions about some artists. They argued a bit about the best Muse album.

“Oh, so in love,” Mantis whispered to Drax. They watched from the other side of the room.

“Those two?” he grunted.

“Yes! So much love between them. Such deep connection,” she clapped her hands lightly. “Some darkness but also light.”

“Huh…she’s so plain and he’s so great. He could do better,” Drax walked away.

Mantis looked at the couple in awe. She liked Jasmin. But she did sense an uneasiness in her, but it was very deep.

Jasmin heard Quill said they had arrived to New Asgard. Her heart dropped as she turned to Thor. It was hard to say goodbye to Sam and Steve, but with Thor it filled her with dread. She took back her earphone. Quill came from the front and the back was opened as a ramp.

She stood up on shaky legs as Thor got up as well. She fought back tears and put her phone back in her bag. She felt the lump in her throat, and she was unsure if she could do this. Her hands started to shake as well.

“Hey, don’t take too long. We’re running on a short time,” Quill crossed his arms across his chest. His eyes on Thor.

Jasmin twirled her head to Thor in shock.

“You’re coming?” she gasped.

Thor cleared his throat and sent a glare towards Quill like he had spoiled something but then turned to her and softened his features. His blue eyes filled with curiosity.

“Do you want me to?” his voice had cracked.

“Yes,” no hesitation on her part, but she put her hand on her mouth and then shook her head. “Thor, you have your people to look after. I could never ask you to leave them.”

He cupped her face and she leaned into it. “I know. But it’s time for me to be who I am and not who I’m supposed to be.”

Jasmin grinned. “Those are some wise words. So, who are you?”

His eyes sparkled. “Someone who knows he has to be at your side. No matter where.”

Jasmin’s heart filled with joy. Her face reddened at the confession. He leaned down to kiss her and she met him halfway. She was on her tip toes and it reminded her just how much shorter she was, but she didn’t care. The kiss made up for everything. His lips molded against hers perfectly. His tongue asked to enter, and she let him. Her hands went to the back of his neck and anchored him to her. After a few moments, they pulled back and aware they had an audience the entire time.

Thor pecked her lips and told her he wouldn’t be long. She nodded and watched him leave the ship. She placed her hand over her chest willing her heart to stop beating so fast, but she was so happy. This kind of happiness wasn’t something she was used to. Was it possible to feel happiness even in the roots of her hair? It tingled and she released a shaky breath.

“So, heard you like music,” Quill joined her.

Jasmin turned to him. “Yes. Rocket said you did too. That your mom had left you cassette tapes? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, not to brag,” he crossed her arms and leaned against the ladder that was connected to the cockpit, “but I have pretty good taste and a bunch of good songs on my Zune.”

Jasmin snorted and laughed. “Zune? What year is it? 2011?” When Quill’s face reddened in embarrassment, she knew she had hurt his ego. “I mean—it’s a timeless treasure. Please still let me go with you guys.”

“What do you use?” Quill asked nonchalantly. She took out her phone from her bag and waved it. “That’s…so ancient!” He laughed.

“Jasmin has better taste in music than you Quill,” Rocket joined the conversion and was standing on a table. “Don’t worry about Quill.” he told her. “He thinks he’s the only being who loves music or something.”

“You call her by her first name? And not even in a mean way,” Quill narrowed his eyes at Rocket. “He likes you?” he turned to Jasmin.

“Maybe because she’s actually cool. You didn’t see her fight those bastards? She was slashing them up left and right! And respects me!” Rocket shouted back and waved his fist at Quill.

“What music do you listen to?” Mantis asked. “Quill’s music is getting tiresome.”

“Hey!” Quill stood up straight. “What is this mutiny?”

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Jasmin waved her hands. “And listen to a lot of types. Metal, country, blues, metal core and some pop punk.”

“Those words sound so made up,” Drax squinted his eyes. “But pirate angel was right…all words are made up.”

Jasmin chuckled knowing she was going to get along with them just fine.

“Let’s do a music battle,” Rocket grinned and crossed his arms across his chest. “Who’s music we like the best by votes will get control of what we listen to for the next…hmm…let’s say year.”

“WHAT?” Quill shouted.

“That is fair,” Mantis nodded.

“Whatever, I know it’s going to be me,” Quill scoffed and took out his Zune and started scrolling.

“I am groot,” Groot nodded his head and had finally looked up from his new Nintendo Switch. A gift from Jasmin since Rocket had mentioned that Groot was a teenager and had obsessed over an old console he had.

“You flatter me, Groot,” Jasmin told him.

“You understood him?” Rocket asked with a raised eyebrow.

She had. She knew what he had meant. How did she know? The room went silent and all she heard was her heartbeat. She was unsure how she had understood. She just did.

“Where is Thor anyway?” Quill changed the subject and she could breathe again.

“I’ll go get him,” Rocket offered.

“I’ll come!” Jasmin followed Rocket out of the ship. She bit her lip. What was she? Ever since she touched the stones, she felt changed. Like something had awakened inside of her. This was why she wanted answers. She needed to know.

Her worries went out the window when she saw the sight before her. New Asgard was at the coast and it was beautiful. The ship had landed on a cliff with grass that overlooked the water. It was so gorgeous, and the sun was still out so it made the water shine.

Her eyes moved to the two figures standing. Thor had his duffle bag over his shoulder. Valkyrie stood next to him with her head held high.

“Your majesty,” Thor told her and bowed.

Majesty? He gave his title to her. Of course, his people still needed a leader.

“Congratulations,” Jasmin said as she approached them. “I’m sure you will be a great ruler.”

Valkyrie turned her piercing eyes to her, and Jasmin felt frozen in place. Those eyes were accessing her. They didn’t have a chance to talk before. Valkyrie approached Jasmin and then she was embraced by her. Tightly.

“I see the change in him,” she whispered next to Jasmin’s ear. “And it’s because of you.”

“I only…treated him like I wanted to be treated,” Jasmin replied honestly.

“Snooze it or lose it!” Rocket called out.

Valkyrie released her and smiled. “Keep him safe.”

“Of course,” Jasmin nodded her head. Valkyrie hugged Thor and then stepped back. Jasmin held out her hand to Thor and he smiled widely. He took her hand and they walked back towards the ship.

“You wanted to see space? Let’s do it together,” he told her and squeezed her hand. She squeezed it back.

[purplenarwhal19]

COSMIC DANCER

so, here’s a v short story I wrote for class about the importance of exploration. two of the songs that are excerpted in my story I found through @basic-banshee ‘s fanfic Rebel Rebel which is one the best (probably the best) fanfics ever.

Also I don’t know how to do the cutoff thingy so it’s gonna be a long post 🤷‍♀️ so sorry

....

enjoy, I guess? 💕

COSMIC DANCER

Over the radio, a gentle guitar played, followed by T. Rex’s smooth and repetitive lyrics. I sighed, bliss. We were driving on a California road in our rusty tour bus. Sitting in our narrow duffel bag with my costars, with bemused smiles plastered across our faces. Cool air conditioning blew a soft breeze. We listened to beautiful, alternative music, an epic soundtrack for our journey. This was the life of a performer. A true actress.

It was the summer of 1971. I was an actress and dancer on the television and stage show, Desi Dance. We were a children’s show that taught people all about India’s rich culture and history. Dance, art, poetry, music, and food offered just a peek into Indian tradition. We had been performing and touring for six years, but it felt like we started the show yesterday.

“I danced myself right out the womb

Is it strange to dance so soon?”(1)

The guitar solo came into full sound with the backing vocals. It created a powerful feeling that filled my whole body with true hope and strength.

All my life I had danced. It was my escape, my passion, and my love. It felt like that was what I was made for. Reading also brought escape, when the pressure of being an actress became too much. Reciting poetry for my castmates or singing a song that was stuck in my head was so relaxing and freeing. The lyrics are what spoke to me about music, and while I had quite a large vocabulary, there were often times when I didn’t know what a word meant.

“Beraham, what is a womb?” I questioned the boy next to me, clad in loose fitting turquoise pants with gold embroidery.

“I don’t know, Shrishti,” Beraham said plainly.

Beraham and I both sat there, still enjoying it, yet dumbfounded. Curiosity, a crimson rash that we needed to itch, in that unreachable spot on your back. This infection spread throughout the whole cast, leaving all of us with that same itch.

Maybe I could ask my movement director when we get to the venue… I thought as I drifted off, wrapped up in the comfort of music and friendship.

The year was 1973. In the dressing room, now with a smaller cast, we were practicing lines and getting ready to film. I had been groomed with brushes, painted with makeup and had been dressed in the most gorgeous fabrics. My lengha was brilliant magenta with intricate canary yellow details, and paired with a simple sequinned pearly white top. I loved these days, dressing up, feeling beautiful like a royal queen.

To the left of me, a record player played a Paul Simon favourite, setting our moods to the upbeat song.

“The mother and child reunion

Is only a motion away

Oh, the mother and child reunion

Is only a moment away”(2)

A familiar feeling of confusion washed over me. Why is the reunion so important? Why were the mother and child separated? Who are they?

Who is my mother?

Where is she?

Everyone has a mother. Our director, our manager, our movement director, the children in the audience; everyone except me and my fellow actors.

Everyone except me.

I tried to close my perfectly designed eyes, to block out the image of my unfortunate life, but my body refused to listen to my command. Blinking wasn’t even in my control.

I felt so overwhelmed. I had no identity. Who am I? This was a question from too deep in my heart for me to bear.

It was too much. I wanted to leave, I had to get up. I willed my thin, stick-like legs to stand up, pushing, using all the strength I had, just to leave the room.

Nothing happened.

I tried again, hoping for something, some sign of my own independence.

Nothing.

My body wasn’t mine. My will, myself, I could not control it. My life wasn’t mine.

I looked around at my colleagues, chatting, laughing, and totally unaware of their inability to be free. Bound to our employers who dictate and orchestrate our every move.

“Oh, little darling of mine

I can’t for the life of me

Remember a sadder day

I know they say let it be

But it just don’t work out that way”(2)

Paul Simon was right, I still can’t remember a sadder day than that one. My life had changed forever.

As years passed, I began to feel emptier and emptier, resenting my profession, and hating my life. Those years also happened to be our most successful, as a show. The success changed everything. Our bosses got sloppy; high on the fame, as well as their drugs of choice.

Most notably, Arjun, our stage director, became addicted to heroin. It was a horrid sight to witness him become a shell of the person he used to be. It reminded me exactly of that sad, sad Velvet Underground song.

“Heroin, be the death of me

Heroin, it’s my wife and it’s my life

Because a mainline into my vein

Leads to a center in my head

And then I’m better off than dead”(3)

It broke my heart to see him like this. I couldn’t understand how he could inject a toxin into his body by choice. How he could slowly kill himself one high after another.

By then, I had realized that I wasn’t human. I was something else, like them, yet different; stronger, yet weaker.

I spoke with my closest companions, Beraham, Jaidev, and Mitali. They were as confused as I was the day I realized I entered this world without anyone, without a mother. They too began life motherless.

The directors, started our show with shining faces, and now were graying and worn out. We kept the same expressions over the years, never seeing a wrinkle appear, never feeling an ache or pain, never feeling or looking our age.

We hadn’t aged in the past 20 years. We were to be used, like the puppets we were, forever.

“What can we do?” Mitali questioned, urgency overtaking her usual calm nature.

“Nothing,” Jaidev said. “It’s hopeless…”

“I want you to know deep in the cell of my heart

I really want to go

There is another world… a better world

Well, there must be…”(4)

I felt like the Smiths were reading my mind; I wanted another world, a better world, and I hoped with all my heart and soul that there would be one.

This was the lowest depth of our depression. We considered “ending it all”, whatever that meant.

Most of the time our directors listened to nonsense music filled with empty, happy thoughts that had less meaning than my life. When we listened to the melancholy music of Miles Davis, Billie Holiday and Chet Baker, that our bosses listened to so rarely, it felt reassuring: someone else suffered as we did.

Determined to solve this problem, I decided to speak with the director about our conditions. I had heard the humans refer to us as “puppets”, inanimate objects who could only recite lines, made only of felt, and paint. This sounded as bad as any slur that I’d heard before. They pushed and shoved us around, threw us in crowded duffel bags. This had to stop. We needed to break away from the chains the humans bound us in.

“Today we will close our show with an excerpt from Keralan poet, Kamala Surayya. “I am sinner, I am saint— I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” I paused, taking a moment to think of the right words.

“I cannot read the words of a woman who has lived and loved, while I am kept here, held captive by you humans!” I angrily burst, far less eloquent than I had imagined, emotion overtaking my composed mask.

My face turned a deep scarlet shade of red, reminiscent of tamaatar; something that had never happened before. The camera people, directors, and executives stood in place, too shocked to move or speak, the puppet that they had manipulated for so many years had finally taken control and spoken back.

Divya, a camera person, pale and shocked, stuttered, “W-what is happening?” She glanced around nervously at the other people in the room to see if they saw the same thing.

“Divya, you aren’t hallucinating. This is very real. My costars and I are conscious beings; we may not be able to move like you humans, but we deserve the same treatment as you. We have thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. The way you speak about us is degrading. The way you touch and move us is disrespectful. We deserve respect and our thoughts and opinions are as valid as yours,” I spoke with a dignified tone. “The cast and I would like to have a meeting with all of you to discuss our treatment.”

Wide eyed, the crew, obediently agreed and took us to our cramped dressing room. The room was painted a pale yellow with a cheap elephant decal on the wall that was torn and peeling on the edges. This tiny room barely housed all thirteen of us cast members. With all of the behind the scenes crew in our room, we were packed in tight, like sardines in a tin.

“We have called this meeting today to negotiate our rights and responsibilities within this community,” Mitali serenely began. “Our citizenship within our show needs to include us as full members with equal rights and consideration. We understand that your use of us has immense benefits for you, with few benefits for us.”

“You make significant profits from our labor. Your wage is even plentiful enough for you, Arjun, to fund your addiction.” Jaidev scoffed.

With a quivering chin, Arjun begged, “What can we do to fix our mistakes?”

Beraham blustered, “ We want a change in your behaviour!”

“We cannot move on our own, so we expect help and kindness. When you have moved us in the past, even just five minutes ago, you throw around our bodies, like the inanimate objects you believe us to be. We want to go outside and see the world. We want more space in our dressing room, and we expect some real answers about who and what we are,” I demanded.

Afters some discussions we learned that we were the descendants of Saraswati, the Goddess of wisdom and art. The movement directors, who were called “puppeteers”, had no idea that we could do more than just read prepared lines, until we had all travelled to America. This was too far away from the Pundita, that had given them the divine puppets that we were. They could not receive guidance. They had no idea as to what we were capable of, or how to teach us.

That Pundita was my mother.  Her name was Tavni, and I was given a picture of her.

She had a golden, caramel complexion, with large eyes and hazel pupils. She had a smile that lit up a whole room and round, rosy cheeks.

I noticed the similarities in our appearances, the way she had crafted me to look so much like her.

I had found my identity.

Learning all of this information brought a new sensation to my eyes; something burning and prickly, and a wet droplet traveling down my cheek. I was crying! This feeling brought a warm emotion of relief, of content and of closure.

Soon after these discoveries, I realized that I loved my job. Even though the past years had been rough, this was what I was meant to do. If conditions improved, I would truly be happy.

I was going to do what my mother created me for. Dancing and performing, bringing India to the whole world and teaching about our glorious culture. I would do just that.

“I danced myself into the tomb

I danced myself into the tomb

Is it strange to dance so soon?

I danced myself into the tomb…”(1)

THE END

~

SONGS REFERENCED:

(1) Cosmic Dancer, T. Rex, 1971

(2) Mother and Child Reunion, Paul Simon, 1972

(3) Heroin, The Velvet Underground, 1967

(4) Asleep, The Smiths, 1987

[ficsrus]

fic recs: bts

this one’s a bit lengthy folks. have fun reading. make sure to give kudos and comments and lots of love to the authors!

namjin—

*prudence in the face of adversity: rated E, 7k

“But we’re not a girl group, hyung, there’s like…” Namjoon waves his hands in the air as he explains, “identity issues and gender issues and how are we supposed to dance with b—our bodies in this condition,” he finishes weakly. “And we can’t do publicity like this, or rehearse, and I don’t want to call the president and Seokjin-hyung is bleeding and I don’t know how to pick these things out from the store so could Hobi and I please just take a bit of money to the store to get things for Jin-hyung because he’s crying…”

[In which the entirety of Bangtan wakes up as women, and Namjoon is confused and put-upon.]

ch4otick gayz: rated T, 17k [includes vhopemin & yoonkook]

[EM0 CRAKHED]

jeon can't kook: jfc,,

jeon can't kook: sorry guys i took care of it,

jeon can't kook: i gave him like 3 tablets of Benadryl he's out

hobi-wan kenobi: kook, you're supposed to only take 1

jeon can't kook: ......

jeon can't kook: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess he'll die.

yoonmin—

hands down: rated T, 43k

Hoseok wouldn’t stop talking about him. It was Jimin this, Jimin that, Jimin was so cute, Jimin was so talented, Jimin danced so well and he was so nice- Yoongi had to control the impulse to roll his eyes the minute his name came out of Hoseok’s mouth.

So, yeah, maybe Yoongi was already predisposed towards disliking Park Jimin for some very valid reasons but this? This took the fucking cake.

the songbird and the sea: rated M, 256k [minor taekook and namjin]

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

*flashflood: rated E, 15k

A handjob a week is not much for Jimin to live off of.

Jimin thinks it’s sort of like the equivalent of feeding someone nothing but peas for all three meals of the day: sure, peas are all well and good, but eating peas and only peas for any extended period of time is going to result in some serious vitamin deficiencies. And probably some other bad stuff, although Jimin doesn’t actually know all that much about it.

composure: rated E, 131k

Everyone has secrets.

Everything in Jimin's life changed the day he presented as an Omega. It's as though the world were grabbed out from under him, launching him into a special hell not meant for someone with as much fire and potential as him.

This is why when Jimin is given the opportunity to stop being an Omega, he takes it.

What Jimin hadn't anticipated, is meeting his roommate, Yoongi, or realizing his entire cover will be blown if he can't stop going so crazy over that cinnamon and mint scent he has.

Too bad that is the least of his worries...

*(This is a story containing serious and dark themes with disturbing elements which become more prevelant as the story progresses.)

jikook—

*On Patrol: rated M, 130k [includes yoonseok & namjin; read the sequel here]

Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.

Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.

Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher.

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

under the mistletoe (with you): rated G, 5k

Jimin and Jungkook try to get Yoongi and Hoseok together during the holidays but it doesn't really go as planned.

The White Wolf’s Shadow: rated T, 41k [includes yoonseok, namjin, & taekook]

Jeongguk, a powerful Alpha in line for his father’s throne, needs a mate to wear the crown. When Jimin, an alluring Omega and foreign Prince, comes to re-cement their alliance everything seems to fall into place… against their wishes. Jeongguk, forced to decide what's more important, his own happiness or his people; and Jimin whose carrying deadly secrets that place the fate of everyone on his shoulders, are forced to come together. With enemies on all sides will they be able to overcome their struggles and do what has to be done?

Or

Jeongguk and Jimin’s wolves have liked each other from the start, but when they are forced into an arranged marriage both parties are unhappy about it for various reasons. Neither wants to admit it, but both find themselves falling for the other as time goes on.

yoonjin—

heists and hearts: rated T, 95k [minor jihope and vmon]

"Give me a number,” Yoongi says when Namjoon finally turns around in his computer chair. Namjoon looks at him and sighs.

"One."

It's not the first time he's stumped with one plan. Namjoon looks at Yoongi, eyes trained on him like a hawk. “One?” Yoongi asks, voice low. “One,” Namjoon repeats, “and you’re not going to like it.”

There’s a hint of curiosity in Yoongi’s eyes and a question attempts to come out from his lips. But instead, Namjoon hears the order from his partner.

“Call them in.”

a little water clears us of this deed: rated T, 4k

All Yoongi wanted was to read Macbeth and pass his Literature class in peace, not catch the attention of Kim Seokjin.

*best served cold: rated E, 16k

[They say when you / embark on a journey / of revenge, dig two graves. They underestimate me. (mr state trooper. please don’t stop me. please don’t stop me.)]

After Yoongi's parents get killed by the mob, Yoongi sets out to avenge them. No matter what it takes.

he’ll come back for the honey and you: rated E, 18k

“Cooking is attractive. Like playing guitar, it demonstrates your prowess with your hands, your sophisticated knowledge of an art form... But it goes deeper than that. Cooking is a shared experience, a way to express yourself to someone you care about.”

Or: Seokjin is no stranger to a little sugar. However, Yoongi is the sweetest thing he’s come across in a long time, and there's no recipe telling him exactly what he should do next.

a ballad for you: rated T, 3k

tumblr prompt from anon: "Hi, do you take requests that aren't smut? I'd like to see YoonJin where Jin mistakes Yoongi for his blind date."

[At this point, Seokjin only has one thing to say about his date; he needs to show the hell up.]

everything i need: rated M, 12k

“Sorry I’m late, babe. Traffic was awful,” the man is saying. He flashes a bright, gummy smile at Seokjin and nods apologetically at the waitress. “I’m sorry. Can we have five more minutes to look at the menu?”

He waits until she is gone before he leans across the table and says in a low voice. “I’m Yoongi. Just play along okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”

Or, the one where Seokjin is a single dad. His son is in love with the music their first floor neighbour plays on the piano, and the last thing Seokjin expects is to fall for the man behind the music.

déjà-brew : rated T, 7k

according to his employees, seokjin has a crush on the cute guy that comes around and orders an americano every single day. what they don’t know, and what seokjin hasn’t told them yet, is that they’re actually married. (he has his reasons, okay?)

yoonseok—

same damn hunger: rated E, 40k

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

the daily grind: rated E, 8k

hoesock87: I refuse to believe that u didn’t just google “cute asian twink” to get that selfie

yoongay: i am a cute asian twink. r u tryna fuck me or no

(or: yoonseok meet on grindr)

and one musn’t tell lies: rated M, 46k

Yoongi wants to fly so bad he's ready to break the rules for that. Jung Hoseok is the worst collateral damage possible. (Stop lying).

*days to weeks to months: rated M, 10k

Yoongi’s just trying to date the possible love of his life, Jung Hoseok. But the package deal includes five asshole friends and a theoretically infinite number of disasters.

Basically: a series of moments where Yoongi wonders why his friends and also god hate him.

see, i’ve got plans (to get to you): rated T, 11k

Yoongi and Hoseok have a game plan.

(Or: The one where Yoongi takes three tries to propose to Hoseok.)

single pringle: rated T, 7k [includes jikook and namjin]

Where Yoongi owns a restaurant that is a date hot-spot and he is single and salty at all the couples streaming into his restaurant on a daily basis. Not only that, but somewhere along the way he's gotten himself a couple of gay regulars who won't go away. And maybe someone who makes him a little less salty at the end too.

**halcyon: rated M, 27k [includes minjoon]

The only explanation for how two demons have found themselves on Earth is a simple one: Jung Hoseok loves to gamble and Min Yoongi can't resist a good game.

junghope—

blue flame special: rated E, 106k [minor vmin]

hoseok just got dumped and now a clearly under aged bartender is refusing to serve him a much needed round of shots.

("can you do this teenage angst thing some other time? my ex just walked in with his new boyfriend and i could really use some liquid cowardice."

the kid narrows his eyes in the direction hoseok had nodded toward. "seokjin hyung's your ex?")

hoseok nods. "you know him?"

"yeah," jeongguk glares at hoseok and begins stepping away, definitely refusing to serve him any drink at all. "he dumped me for you.")

yoonjihope [?? essentially yoongi/hoseok/jimin]—

**good things always belonged to everyone: rated E, 9k

Yoongi is trying to accept his part as the beta in a polyamorous relationship with an alpha and an omega. Little by little he notices just how unfitting that role is.

yoonkook—

soft melodies and softer touches: rated E, 11k

[22:39; I see the way you look at me, hyung.]

Yoongi's world stands still, and in that moment, he wants nothing more than to wring Jimin's neck. It's Jeongguk, it has to be Jeongguk, who else would it be? Yoongi knows many dancers--unfortunately Jimin's one of them--but there's only one that he's on close terms with, and whose number he doesn't have.

Jeongguk. It's Jeongguk. It's fucking Jeongguk.

(OR: Jeongguk's a contemporary dancer, and Yoongi is his academy's pianist).

take me out (the date way or the assassination way): rated T, 7k

jin [8:01] theres a mysterious hot guy on campus that yoongi keeps running into like a damn romantic drama but every time they meet he ends up nearly killing yoongi

tae [8:01] kinky

with a bang (stunted plants can bloom): rated M, 24k

what not to do when you find yourself falling for the guy you almost slept with but then didn’t because he turned out to be your friends’ roommate: a guide by min yoongi

flower boys: not rated, 3k

“it was pretty,” namjoon protests, trying to defend himself. “and it was a gift from a fan. wouldn’t she have been troubled to have to take it home?”

“and you brought it back to let it die?” yoongi interjects, dry as sand. he rises to his feet, dusting off his jeans. “you gonna take care of it, namjoonie?”

“how hard can it be,” namjoon says, but he sounds hesitant, like he knows his own annihilatory powers will trump his determination. “it’s a small plant. it needs water, sunlight, and air. we can provide all of those. piece of cake.”

(yoongi and jungkook take care of a plant together.)

i know i’ll fall in love with you, baby: rated T, 31k

The soulmate/soulbond au where Yoongi is part of a famous rap duo and Jungkook is his diligent fanboy, they meet at a fansign and things escalate from there

(alt. Yoongi didn’t sign up for this)

i blow up buildings (but i’d blow you): rated T, 8k

“Yoongi,” says Namjoon, his tone allowing no argument. He holds the boy an arms length in front of him and smiles painfully. “Meet Jeongguk. He’s your new bodyguard.”

Yoongi sputters and decides to argue anyway, because fuck no. “I said I don’t need a bodyguard, Namjoon.”

(Or, the AU where Yoongi has been receiving death threats from an enemy organisation known as Skeletal, and Jeon Jeongguk is the lucky bastard brought in to be his bodyguard. Yoongi tries to hate him. He really does.)

all the light we cannot see: rated T, 64k

“i’m not your servant!”

“you are on my ship now, and anyone on my ship does what i say,” snaps yoongi, and when he takes a step closer to jeongguk, jeongguk realizes that he’s actually taller than yoongi. strangely, he hadn’t noticed it before, because yoongi doesn’t seem like a small man. especially now, with that fiery look on his face, he seems larger than life—but jeongguk refuses to back down. it’s a bad idea to argue, he knows, but jeongguk has never been very good at stopping himself from doing something he’ll regret.

(or: when jeongguk finally gets his chance to sail the cosmos, it’s onboard the ship of an aggravating man named min yoongi. he thinks it’ll be extraordinarily dull—but the universe, and the legend of treasure planet, have other plans.)

gusto d’italia: rated E, 64k

Jungkook turned towards the kitchen - and walked straight into the icy glare of Min Yoongi.

“Are you always this late?”

Jungkook tried to bite his tongue. “I was talking to – ”

“I don’t care who you were talking to,” Yoongi snapped. He had both arms crossed firmly over his chest as he continued to berate Jungkook in front of the rest of the staff. “How am I supposed to trust you to get my food out on time if you can’t follow a simple direction that I gave less than five minutes ago?”

Jungkook stared at his feet. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

“Better fucking not.”

-----

[Jungkook always dreamed of becoming a chef in the future. When Yoongi, a culinary genius with unusual social skills, shows up in the kitchen of Gusto d'Italia, Jungkook becomes awestruck.]

taegi—

the less i know the better: rated E, 41k

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding making eye contact.

"I might’ve… invented a boyfriend," he finally mumbles to the glass in front of him

i want to believe: rated G, k

Taehyung starts an astronomy club.

my heart flutters from the sugar high: rated M, 6k

Yoongi and Taehyung sneak around together, cheating on their diets. The group? They've drawn different conclusions.

over the winter lake: rated E, 9k

There’s a small alcove along the outskirts of Daegu, not too deep in the woods, that lead to a lake of still waters and peaceful surroundings. Yoongi isn’t entirely fond of it—the body of water itself being named Death Lake by locals who’ve lived there long enough to tell the tales of the disturbing amount of murders, suicides, and disappearances that are linked with it.

Yoongi sees something in the water. Something inhuman.

abracadon’t: rated M, 7k

"i don't understand why you hate taehyung," hoseok always asks.

yoongi doesn't really understand either. but he's just so...hate-able.

or, taehyung never learned that annoying the fuck out of someone isn't actually a healthy way to show you like them.

namgi—

you could give it all (but it’s never enough): rated E, 46k

yoongi imprints with an alpha he's an alpha too

again again again: rated T, 8k

Yoongi takes a deep breath. Runs through the facts. 1. Namjoon is really fuckin drunk. 2. They made that dumbass pact well over ten years ago when they were both sad and weird and lonely. 3. His heart definitely did not seize up a little bit at the thought of marrying his best friend. It just didn’t.

vmin—

it’s not about reciprocation (it’s just all about me): rated E, 34k

“Taehyung and Jimin broke up.”

“It’s bullshit—”

“We were all rooting for them.”

“It’s complete bullshit—”

“Everyone actually thought they had a chance, you know?”

(Alternatively: Taehyung’s a problematic idiot who fell in love with the right person at the wrong time.)

jinkook—

*knowingly, i drank from the poisoned chalice: rated m, 22k

In captivity, Seokjin learns that you cannot have both love and life without sacrificing something important.

namgikook (namjoon/yoongi/jungkook)—

*the kinky encounter at the auto-erotic asphyxiation house: rated E, 6k

"The last owner of this house died too.”

“How?”

Jeongguk looks over his shoulder at them, his front teeth poking into his bottom lip as his nose scrunches and the corners of his eyes crinkle in a delighted grin. “Auto-erotic asphyxiation! Honestly, what a way to fucking go. Do you think he came before he died?”

“Christ, Jeongguk.”

Namjoon drops his head into his hands, letting out a long-suffering sigh as Jeongguk elbows him playfully.

“It’s a valid question!” Jeongguk snickers as both Namjoon and Yoongi give him a painfully withered look. “We can only hope his last moment was a pleasurable one.”

taekook—

**fading brilliance, fire on silk: rated E, 26k

Jungkook spent his life studying angels and demons, but none of his imaginary portrayals of them can even come close to Taehyung’s mystical, almost poetic beauty: sun-kissed skin and full lips, lashes so long that Jungkook feels the brush of it on his skin when Taehyung leans in to dip his tongue in the hollow of his throat.

Jungkook wonders if he’s already too far gone. The guilt doesn’t eat him up anymore, the shame only serving to heighten his arousal instead of extinguish it. Jungkook has no hope of salvation now, and he doesn’t even care, not when damnation tastes this fucking good.

[izzy-b-hands]

20-30!

Thank you so much for asking!!!!

20. Favorite character to write?

Already answered, but I don’t mind re-answering cuz I thought maybe I’d narrow my three way tie, but alas, no lol. Still a tie between Ahkmenrah, Snafu, and Skwisgaar.

21. Least favorite character to write? 

Ooh-tbh, Larry from NATM just because I feel like I always make him an asshole? Like, I haven’t published all my fic ideas for NATM because I keep making him really mean? And in some it works but in others I’m like ‘jesus chill Lee he’s just a Dude trying his best’ but also at the same time I feel the way Stiller played him and his character arc means he’s got some major ego to him as the films go on? Idk that isn’t a hot take or anything just me being frustrated with Ben Stiller lol

22. Favorite story you’ve ever written? 

Hard choice, because I love all my kids, but I cried after writing this one lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

It hit some personal stuff for me, so to be able to have it work organically in a fic so I could also like, mini therapy session myself? Cool af. Also, ppl seemed to like this a lot too, and while that validation isn’t the only reason I write, it’s always cool when my writing makes ppl happy. 

23. Least favorite story you’ve ever written? 

I don’t really have a least favorite, but I do have some I’m more frustrated with, due to how long they took me to write, etc. Currently? The answer to this is my Mark the Date series because A. it is taking me a day and an age to finish it and B. I feel like it kinda flopped, so it’s hard to pull up any energy to finish it, but like...I may as well now lol. I’ll get it done eventually.

24. Favorite scene you’ve written? 

Oh god tbh I have too many I love just cuz like

I can go back to how I felt writing them and yeah

But as of most recent fics, I really this bit: 

-Snafu patted the blanket near his head, and waited for Eugene to put out his pipe and lay back beside him before snuggling close to him. “You could be right. Could be God. Could just be love.” “How’s that?” “I think love has its own way. Even before you meet someone, even before you know you’re fallin’ for ‘em. Love’s just…out there, like the air or somethin’. Finds you when the time is right, and finds who you click with. You gotta do the rest, the stayin’ in love part, but that bringing together, that first spark…that’s love just existing, and doin’ what it needs to so the world keeps spinnin’, so people make it through tough shit,” Snafu replied. “I like that,” Eugene said. “Think love did a good job with us. Makin’ sure we found each other.” Snafu pressed a kiss softly to the corner of Eugene’s mouth. “Sure did. Wouldn’t ever want to be with anyone else. I don’t even know what that looks like, and I don’t want to.” “Same here,” Eugene’s mouth was warm as he kissed him back. “Here’s to love for making sure you found me.” -

from this fic: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186926226531/absolution-is-the-taste-of-your-lips

Because I’m sappy af more than I let on, and also this was a chance to like, write out my own feelings via Snafu. And that was a pretty cool and fulfilling thing for me, ya know? 

25. Favorite line you’ve ever written? 

oh god this is another hard one to narrow down but

I always come back to this line and go ‘oh shit did I really write that. Nah, someone better than me at this had to have. They briefly possessed me or something”:  

-Music and talking and shouting and footsteps collide kaleidoscopic in his ears, but none bearing the one sound that he’d run to if he heard it.-

from this fic, mentioned twice now in this post lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

I really love alliteration, and for me this line just sums up how it feels to walk thru a city when you aren’t just wandering really, but are looking or waiting for someone, and have that awful yet sometimes good feeling of expecting to hear or see them but it feels like you’re waiting or searching forever and in the meantime the city just lives on around you, a stopped platelet stuck in a vein full of vitality. Like, idk if it hit any of my readers that way, but that’s what I was trying to get across lol, so the line always hits me hard in a good way when I scroll thru my writing tag and see it. 

26. Story you’re most proud of? 

Gosh

I gotta choose just one kid for this aldsfkja I’m bad at choosing I love my gaggle of ragtag goofballs. I have an original piece I’d choose for this, but I’ve never posted it on here, so I’m gonna choose out of my fanfic on here instead.

One I am really proud of is this one: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

and I know it’s the third time it’s been part of an answer on here but

I really love this one idk. Thinking back to how I felt while writing it, how it all flowed in a certain way. The whole experience was just something else, and I’m proud of this one in a certain way I find myself, funnily enough, unable to describe. 

27. Best review you ever got? 

Okay this sounds cheesy but like

I really do love and appreciate every review or review-like thing I’ve ever gotten so I can’t choose just one for this

Like, y’all gotta understand, I’ve deleted some of it and erased traces of it from my blog, but I’ve written for years on here, I have some stuff on my ao3, and for the longest time I got nothing back, or very nearly nothing. Maybe a few likes, but no comments and not much else. I always just rolled with it and assumed I just wasn’t writing anything good enough to inspire reviews. Idk if that’s true or not, but in any case it means I cherish every comment, like, reblog, and anything review-like in nature because I’m so grateful to have it now, and I know it could well be pure luck that I stumbled up on a really supportive bunch of fandoms with great readers. 

In other words, thank y’all for every kind word and like and reblog and also I may be an immortal feeding off of validation of my art, but we’ll see on that last bit, because I haven’t tested it. 

28. Worst review you ever got?

One from middle school. I’d just finished my very first novel, gave it to a friend to read, and he said it ‘smacked of being too fanciful and childish, something only kids and women would read’ (it was a YA fantasy novel so I mean... what exactly he expected, idk cuz he knew what it was before I gave it to him, like it’s supposed to have those elements as a lot of these sorts of novels/stories do, and that isn’t a bad thing about them at all, so like...what his damage was idek.)

Also this is the same dude who texts me randomly and is really weird abt his friendship with me and happens to be an English teacher now (RIP to his students.) 

Anyway, after he said that I tossed a review right back, because well, middle school and also I was very upset with him because I’d not asked for anything other than a general ‘if you picked this up randomly and started it, would it suck you in enough to keep reading or would you put it down’ like that was literally all I needed him to answer for me. So I told him his latest novel (his second at that point) was essentially just him masturbating to his own opinions (because he’s an arguer, who loves to tell ppl they’re always wrong, and that’s by his own admission) for one hundred pages, and not in a way that anyone else would care to read. He was pissed, but so was I. We didn’t talk for a good week, and we had almost all our classes together lol. 

Like, getting nothing back in review sucks too, but this one has stuck with me forever. Best part? I mentioned it to him a few years back, and he only vaguely remembered it, and followed it with “but I’ve said a lot of rough stuff about your work. I mean, it deserved it at the time, but you might be good at this someday!” 

I didn’t smack him, but I really, really wanted to. 

29. Favorite story/poem of another author

This doesn’t specify on Tumblr or not, so I’ve got two: one from outside tumblr, and one from on here.

A. When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be by John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,And think that I may never live to trace   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,   That I shall never look upon thee more,Never have relish in the faery power   Of unreflecting love—then on the shoreOf the wide world I stand alone, and thinkTill love and fame to nothingness do sink.

B. Again, this Tumblr one could be a huge ass list because y’all on here are amazing, but one I’ve been rereading over and over again recently is @xmxisxforxmaybe ‘s Remnants series, which can be found here: https://xmxisxforxmaybe.tumblr.com/post/186702235396/remnants-complete-work

Like, Ahk as a character is captured so well, and I love the way the plot twines and also when the smut comes up? Very good A+ smut, something I value pretty highly on and off Tumblr because man, sometimes smut is just work to write, so I appreciate it when it’s really good. All around, this series has captured my heart and I legit have a link to it saved on multiple devices so if I need something to read, I can just pull it up right away. 

30. Hardest part of writing? 

Self-doubt. It’s the biggest hurdle for any artist, regardless of the art in question I think, but with writing it seems to double down a lot. Like, you have to really get out of your own head, even as you spend all your time there with your writing ideas. Shit gets weird and twisted, man. 

For the longest time, I really let self-doubt defeat me too, and I regret the time I lost to that. I still get hit with it randomly, cause I don’t think it every really goes away for any writer, not even the big names like Stephen King or Neil Gaiman (who I’m half tempted to @ on here purely because I wanna know his feelings on this stuff because I respect and admire him as an artist and his thoughts very much, but also he’s a very busy man so I’m not gonna bug him by doing that lol.) 

All there is to do is to work with it, push past it, and most importantly keep writing. I have days where that feels like the hardest thing, but each day I manage to get past it and get the words down? I let myself feel proud of that, and mark it as an achievement in my Big Book of Stuff I’ve Done in This Life. 

[etudias]

(Edit: I am aware of the typo in the title, it should be experience)

Hi there, my name is Alessandra and I am going to tell y’all about how the whole college application process went for me. I think my experience ended a little differently than most, or at least most that people will share. It honestly took a lot for me to feel comfortable posting this so I really hope that it will help someone out there. It is however a very long post, so I am going to break it up into sections, feel free to read only what you need/want.

1. Researching Schools

I got excited for college. I was excited to go to college for as long as I can remember and was looking up different schools on site’s like the college board one, bigfuture, which by the way, I recommend, since probably 10th grade. So come Junior year I had a bunch of schools I was interested in. I ended up visiting a few in Boston over spring break that year. I visited Harvard, MIT, and Boston University (clearly my sights were set high). I did not really think it was that important to visit colleges, and that I should just visit the ones I got into to help decide (I now know that college visits can actually really help you get into a top school). The summer before senior year I worked hard to narrow down my list. I ended up with 12 schools that I applied to. This may seem like a lot to some, or not many at all to others. Most people I know applied to more like 5-8, but I know some people who applied to 20+, you gotta do what’s right for you. I wanted to apply to more honestly, but based on costs that is the number my mother and I agreed upon.

2. The Schools

Okay so in alphabetical order here are the schools I applied to:

Barnard College

Brown University

Carnegie Mellon University

Case Western Reserve University

Duke University

Georgia Institute of Technology

Harvard University

Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

Stanford

University of California - Berkeley

University of Georgia

University of Pennsylvania

So, some reasoning on my choices. I heard someone say something that I fully agreed with, and after everything still do. That you should apply to as many reach schools as you can because it raises the chances of getting into just one. So with that I applied to a bunch of reaches, a few meets, and 1 safety. The one safety school I decided on was because it was in state and in my state if you have a 3.75+ GPA and some other requirements, you get full tuition to in state schools and I knew that given the money, there was really no other school that I could consider a safety school that I would choose over it. I still stand by this choice.

3. My Stats 

You are probably going to ask this and I’ve decided to be upfront and tell you because why the heck not. I sent in ACT scores, not SAT (although I did take it). I got a 32 (33 English, 33 Reading, 35 Science, 28 Math), I should have spent more time studying for the math as that score never changed, but it was my 3rd time taking the test and I was over it, my goal had been a 33, but to me that was close enough because I was tired. My GPA was a 3.875 unweighted and a 4.063 weighted. My school did not offer many AP courses, I took all that I could with the exception of 2 history courses that I had strong reasons for not taking and when I had my Harvard interview and I talked with the lady about it, she wholeheartedly agreed and said that as the counselor of her private school she even made her school stop offering those courses, so yeah I feel pretty valid about that. (Ended up taking 7 AP’s if you are curious about which ones, they are on my about page) I basically got all A’s in my academics, my B’s came from some arts classes and health, I know, I know. I’m going to briefly mention my school in this section because it is sort of related. I went to a public arts high school that is ranked number 2 in the state for academics and 75th in the nation. It was extremely rigorous.

4. Extracurricular’s and other application stuff

I was very involved. I participated in theater for all 5 years (my school was 8-12). I did technical theater and by 10th grade was crew head for shows and in 11th grade I worked every show (which at my school was a lot). Senior year I became a stage manager which is a big responsibility and sort of like being a president of a club, but even more responsibility. I calculated the hours I spent with theater junior year alone, 300 hrs. I was also very involved in orchestra, all 5 years. My school has 4 orchestra levels, the first two comprising the lower orchestra, 3&4 comprising the higher level orchestra, based on skill level, not age. I was in orchestra 2 for 8th and 9th grade, orchestra 3 for 10th and 11th grade, and orchestra 4 for senior year, orchestra 4 was a big deal, with only 11 members and you played not only in the higher level orchestra but also the touring orchestra. Lots of hours. I also played in my county’s honor’s orchestra for 2 years. I was on the executive board (basically president) of my schools National Honor Society (our school only opens it to seniors, so I was only in it for 1 year). I was part of Beta Club for 4 years. I was a math tutor. I founded a Girls Who Code club at my school and taught it. I was in our award winning mock trial for 2 years. I was a member of my schools Gay Straight Alliance. I babysat all throughout high school. I did more than that but this is already long enough and you can tell that basically, I was a try hard.

   Let’s talk about summers. The summer after 10th grade I went to a 7 week long summer immersion program for coding called Girls Who Code. The summer after junior year I went to a week long orchestra camp, then my states Governor’s Honor’s program, which in my state is very prestigious and hard to get into (I think its like a 10% acceptance rate). I was a software engineering major and a math minor there. (Those are really the summers that count, but all other summers I went to orchestra camp)

   More application stuff, I had a fair amount of school awards as well as the aforementioned Governor’s Honor’s. I got recommendations from my pre calculus teacher, who I founded a Girls Who Code club with, and my world history/ap psych teacher. They both loved me and I’m sure wrote great recommendations (with the exception of UGA where I did not send any). All the schools I had interviews with went extremely well. I was a legacy for Duke. I had an alumni friend write an AMAZING letter of rec for CMU. I felt my essays were strong (and checked by 3 or so people).

   My major: I basically applied everywhere as a computer science major. I felt good about this with the way I spent my summers, some of my extracurricular, and classes I chose to take. I wrote a fair amount of essays about this and I feel as though my applications demonstrated the work I had put into bringing more people (especially women) into STEM, specifically cs, and my interests and knowledge of cs.

5. The Decisions

Finally the good part right? Well at least for you readers. I’ll go in order of the decisions (although towards the end I forget the order a bit because it was tech week and show weeks for my schools biggest production, I was busy) and add some commentary on some. (All regular decision unless otherwise noted)

MIT (Early Action) - rejected, it hurt a little being my first, but not unexpected

Case Western (Early Action) - deferred, then waitlisted, then rejected, everyone from my school got the exact same decisions from them and there were people from the bottom of my class to the very top lol

University of Georgia - accepted, oh boy I cried because finally thank goodness somewhere at least

Georgia Tech - waitlisted, then rejected, this one still stings, people with all around weaker applications from my school got in that applied early. the acceptance rate dropped from 40% to 8% between early and regular, biggest regret is not applying here early, once I was waitlisted here I felt for sure I wouldn’t get in anywhere else

Barnard College - waitlisted, still waiting to hear. at this point i just felt like I was getting waitlisted everywhere

Harvard - rejected, expected as are basically the rest of these

U Penn - rejected 

Brown - rejected

UC Berkeley - rejected

Duke - rejected, but damn that letter I’m still mad about, like the fact the I got rejected was unsurprising at that point, but they sent me 3 long paragraphs of rejection bc I was a legacy saying how sorry they were and how many times they reconsidered my application. One sentence would have been better.

Stanford - rejected

CMU - rejected, and man I knew it was coming but it was the last school I heard from, my last hope, and it was closing day for my last school musical, this was a bad day, not so much for this one school but just the process in general

6. Reflections

So I got into 1 school, yup just 1. My safety school that’s it. Let me tell you I was devastated, not over any particular school, but that I didn’t get into any others. I ate 4 donuts and cried a whole lot the day of that last rejection. I got really REALLY stuck on the fact that I would only ever read that one acceptance letter, that one congratulations. I moped around and was sad and upset with my self and full of regrets like why did I not apply to more schools, it was a bad time. But let me tell you that time really showed my what good some friends could be, friends really helped me through that. Even though I had only one school I waited till the last minute to commit. So yes, fall 2018 UGA here I come, go dawgs! (and really its not a bad school, especially the honors program) I worked really hard to get myself excited for this school and as much as I am, with the major I want to go into, I know it is in my best interests to transfer, no matter how much I do not like the idea of transferring (its a good school don’t get me wrong, just not the best for my major). I am still trying to come to terms with the idea of transferring and honestly this whole process in general. I do not think I would have done things much differently, I put my best into my applications, honestly if I changed anything I would have just applied to more schools and probably only more reaches or meet/reaches at that. I have come to accept the decisions (mostly, I still get quite down about it from time to time). It was an odd year for decisions at my school in general. We usually send a good amount of students to top top schools like ivies and the equivalent, but this year no one got into any, heck our valedictorian is going to UGA too. (I think it has something to do with our class being super strong overall, 50% had a 4.0+ weighted, so therefore none of us really stood out) So yeah it really freaking hurts only getting into one school, I’m pretty sure I went through all the stages of grief, but now I am in acceptance and just getting excited for college!! and I am SO EXCITED

   If anyone has any questions about this process, my inbox is open.

[violetsystems]

#personal

I deactivated my Facebook yesterday.  I had to create a dummy account to save the artist pages but put “do no contact” in the bio.  I suppose you could say like everything I do that it’s some sort of performance but really I’m just bored and exhausted.  It all seems like a dark, echoing void where everybody talks and nobody listens.  I was genuinely sad for the passing of Bourdain.  Reuters didn’t immediately report it as a suicide.  I found that out in my feed from people who never openly acknowledge me but suddenly care for my well being in the form of a phone number.  If I can admit to being triggered by anything it’s suicide.  It is ironic when you walk around with a patch on your messenger bag commemorating the life of Daul Kim I know.  But most people don’t even know who that is or particularly care.  I can say Daul has always been inspiring to me.  Her writing especially.  How she openly criticized cocaine.  How she used the internet and blogs in a way most net artists wished they had years before anyone.  She even called out Jun Takahashi for casting only white models in his shows.  I’m obviously biased.  But she was also a painter.  She could have been the next Nam June Paik.  She wrote about wanting to be something like that.  And for whatever reason she didn’t.  She ended her life.  And I saw a lot of that in people around me including myself.  How fighting against things that contradict what you really believe in is hard and exhausting.  Bourdain to me obviously also has some parallels.  I travelled to Asia in a similar mind state maybe.  Except in some ways I felt chased out.  It boggles my mind how someone with that much experience can make that choice.  A local newspaper noted that his death ‘served as a reminder that celebrities, who sometimes feel more familiar to us than friends and neighbors, are at the same time total strangers.’  I do believe celebrity is a group hallucination.  It’s the ethereal worth of someone’s legacy in the eyes of those who envy it.  And it can be a trap when people don’t have a complex sense of worth and value.  In American society, it’s the thought that counts.  It’s a phone number and a copy and pasted sentiment on a webpage that “this user knows how you feel” but is unavailable for your emotional labor.

Whether it’s a French flag in solidarity in your avatar or your favorite pundit’s youtube explanation of why Trump is bad, empty actions don’t really change much.  It’s not to discourage them from happening.  Who am I to judge whose personal revolutions are more valid and timely?  It just so happens people have judged mine for years.  How I’ve appropriated this or that.  I stole that hangul for thief directly from the youtube video for the Mr. Pizza commercial it came from.  It literally is a Korean guy standing outside of a Brooklyn pizza parlor with a sign in Korean with Marco Polo’s face with the word for thief.  I make bootleg t-shirts.  I skirt around the law on occasion.  My Korean language skills are shitty.  I haven’t opened up a kim chi taco truck in my neighborhood yet or bought up a mixed used industrial building to flip in the middle of a lower income neighborhood.  I work a regular job where Korean and Chinese are spoken regularly.  I volunteered for three years for a Korean American Chamber of Commerce in a very diverse neighborhood up north.  Most of my friends still made fun of me.  Didn’t keep up with what I was doing.  Watched from afar through my facebook posts but said nothing.  I thought maybe in hindsight if I did all these things people would just see my intentions.  Year after year I would have to state my intentions as they changed and my perspective grew.  But for the most part, there was one constant.  People I knew generally ignored me and what I did.  If they talked about it behind my back it was always negative.  I was problematic according to some social tribunal I’ve never answered to.  And in some of those ways I agreed and turned inward.  I made things that reflected what I felt about the world that felt empty to other people.  To me it seemed pretty simple.  Wear the word thief on your back in America in Korean and nobody would tell the difference.  What you were really saying.  My friend’s brother in Shanghai recently said that with these elements of foreign cultures there wasn’t enough appropriation.  There was a very narrow appreciation and hierarchy of cultural acceptance in America like food, models, clothes, etc.  That these have been made to feel exotic in the Western context and exclusive.  People would rather fetishize than empathize.  And there is no greater mind fuck than recognizing all the times you’ve failed to properly empathize because you weren’t emotionally available to care enough about the nuances.

I’ve been there.  I can say I’m not now.  Reality to me is a much greater mind fuck than I could imagine.  How nobody listens.  How you are supposed to accept that and move on.  How all the time you waste trying to hold up your end of the bargain for society it’s never returned with the same intention and vigor.  How they expect you to smile when they eat their piece of cake and yours in the same bite.  How desperately you need validation that you haven’t wasted your time digging so deep.  How people lash out at you because you are the only person who will listen.  That Bourriaud text is pretty fascinating to me.  It’s been floating around art school for years.  Relational Aesthetics is something I know very well.  I got dragged into an artist collective by a friend at school years ago that focused on cleaning.  We did a bunch of performances.  One we actually made art in the restrooms at school.  That’s like the one rule you can’t break.  We had set up a washing station in the bathroom and cleaned the floors of the basement of the school.  We worked in shifts on our hands and knees while this performance festival went on, wiping the floor at people’s feet.  It was an intense experience for somebody who actually worked there and never considered themselves an artist.  This was back in 2013.  The group was mostly women and it was a very strong dynamic.  I was invited to do a sound piece for another show.  I was really proud the group asked me to do it.  I was also part of a year long exhibition at Jane Addams Hull House around that time.  Jane is like Chicago’s first anarchist.  She fought for immigrant rights, workers and the poor.  Around the time of the war, nationalism had taken a grip of the country and many of the same people she helped turned on her.  I learned how to weave the rags we cleaned with from old bedsheets we got at the thrift.  We built our own looms out of frames and nails.  Then in 2014 I decided to go and try to explore music again and travel.  And somehow I ended up here.  More lonely and isolated than I’ve ever been.  Misunderstood and alienated.  History forgotten.  None of these were just thoughts and prayers.  I went out there and did something.  And I saw results.  Sometimes the results I saw from people revealed their true intentions.  Sometimes it revealed my own and I adjusted.  By now I should know better.  And I know it’s not worth my time like it’s worth down here where people actually feel things.  <3 Tim

[hcpefulmarshmallow]

Misconception: he seems to dislike "normal people" (without talents), but I think deep inside he wants to be normal too.....

Sore Wa Chigau Yo!

Strap in, kids, because this one’s kind of a doozy. I’m about to tell you two entirely opposing accounts of what goes on inside Nagito’s head, and rest assured, they’re both mutually exclusive, and one as valid as the other. 

 Let’s start with the side of him that absolutely, definitely puts Ultimate Talent above all else, just because it’s the side we see more. I’m going to be quite short about this because I think about every other user, as well as the game itself, has covered this more concisely than my drivel machine of a brain.

 Obviously, Nagito absolutely values hope above all else. (What is hope in his eyes? We’ll come back to that later.)

 He would die to bring about a little more hope in the world. 

 He would also let others make the choice to die for hope. 

 In almost every scenario, he would put the wants of an Ultimate above the needs of someone who is talentless, as he sees Ultimates as being in a class of their own, far above everyone else. He has a deep, devoted, platonic love for such people. 

 He wants to see “hope and despair collide”; and for a stronger, more shining hope to come out on top. 

 He believes that strong hope will overcome weak hope and despair.

 He believes that anyone who is talentless should be honoured to do anything for an Ultimate, as that’s assisting hope by proxy, in a sense. 

 He’s no hypocrite, and upholds these tough standards for himself. 

 Nagito considers his luck to be the only special thing about him; and even that, he doesn’t consider a talent. 

 At absolutely no point to I want to minimise the importance of this particular part of his characterisation, so please keep all this in mind as I bring up some lesser-acknowledged stuff. 

 We start with his character music. As much as Nagito claims talent is all that matters, Megumi Ogata, his Japanese VA, is out here spilling all his tea and I love it. She refers to the song Zettai Kibou Birthday as how he feels on the “outside”, and Zanzakura -Zanka- as how he feels on the “inside”. 

 ZKB is about meeting a mysterious someone on campus who he was “born to meet”, and the situation gets quite sexual from there. However, the entire song is metaphoric (remember how I referred to him as a great, big virgin?) It nods to his deep love of hope, and desire to be close to another person, seeing the two as one and the same - it doesn’t necessarily mean he has a literal hope fetish. You have to look pretty close, however, to see anything besides that. 

 Zanka is a much sadder and simpler song. He compares himself to cherry blossoms, which are, in Japan, symbolic of mortality and the ephemeral nature of life. The flowers themselves only bloom for about a week, sometimes less depending on the conditions around them; but cherry blossoms are seen as being at their most beautiful, not in full bloom, but as they begin to wither and die. He also sings the line, 

“ To live an ordinary life, and die together with you / Oh, if that could come true ”

 Call me crazy, but that doesn’t sound like someone who is desperate to die, even for hope, at any given minute.

 There’s also the matter of the OVA to consider. This disaster of canon may be more intentional than we first considered. In case you missed it, here’s the full episode. Otherwise, I could harp all day on various things people have acknowledged before, so I’ll narrow it down to two key points:

 1 - This doesn’t have much to do with the question at hand, but it’s good to note. In a world where he’s supposed to be “untalented”, Nagito retains a somewhat warped version of his luck, where he experiences bad luck so that others can experience good. My takeaway from this is that this points back to him feeling like his luck is the only thing that makes him special; but also that he still carries a lot of guilt for the hardships his luck has caused others, and if he had a say in the matter, he’d be the only one getting hurt, and would find a way to harness it to help others. I could do a whole other thousand word essay on this, to be honest. 

 2 - Due to the traumatic nature of his death in the Neo World Program, Nagito’s mind creates a world where he can feel safe and comfortable. You’d think that, for someone who supposedly was willing to kill to become Ultimate Hope, he might make a world where that dream can come true. But what does this incredibly intelligent, creative young man do with a whole world at his fingertips? He goes to high school. 

 He. Goes. To. High. School.

 And it’s not even some super special high school on the moon or whatever. All the faces we see are familiar to him. He gets to be with the people he’s already come to know, except this time around, they like him. These people he felt he could only look up to before have become his friends. He even expresses a desire to live in a world without talent, presenting it as some kind of barrier between people; as something that, without, no one would be better than the other, and there’d be fewer roadblocks to happiness. 

 After that world is destroyed, Nagito expresses a little bit of worry that perhaps somebody saw it, and when put at ease, says something to the effect of, “That’s just not who I am.” If that’s the case, however, then why did that world exist in the first place; of all the things his mind could have made? Granted, not everything in it is necessarily literal. He implies in-game that part of the reason he was drawn to Hajime was because he feels as if they’re alike. It’s later revealed that Hajime didn’t have a talent originally. To Nagito, he had found someone he could be on the same level with; someone with actual potential to understand him. That seems like perhaps one of the most likely meanings behind the world his mind created. 

 Now, look, if you’ve been on this blog for more than two minutes, you know exactly where this is going next. Nagito’s finally confided in someone that he’s dying, and what does he say to Hajime about it? Insert screenshot I bring up at every given opportunity because it breaks my heart and I like to suffer, I guess.

 There’s nothing in this world to bring out a person’s priorities like the Grim Reaper himself. When you don’t have much time left, you want to spend it on what truly matters. While Nagito has made it very clear that he wants his actual death to be meaningful and contribute to a greater good; he also makes it clear in his own, roundabout way just what he wanted to fill the space between now and then with.

 You’ve probably noticed a bit of a disconnect happening here. The docile doormat who would suck hope’s dick for a kick in the face, the Laugh™ with dreams of becoming Ultimate Hope, and the smol cinnamon roll who’d live in a library if he could and would sell his soul for a hug. What is truth? What is acting? What is fanservice? Is Mun reading way too into things? How can so many different things exist inside one character?

 Answers: all of it; none of it; some of it tbh; probably; the same way anyone else is capable of feeling extremes. Nagito is a very cleverly put-together, very complex character. It isn’t right or fair to say that one side of him matters more than the other. It seems as if there’s nothing to tie together his many personas, and I’ve spent a long time thinking about how a someone could want both life and death, and I don’t think my answer will shock you. 

 Hope. 

 Before you roll your eyes at me, just listen. Ask about anyone what hope means, and they’ll probably say, “a positive outlook for the future” or “a feeling of excitement and expectation” or they’ll start crying and that’s how you spot a DR fan. Nagito, however, has a very specific yet very vague definition of the word, and that’s the key to how I play his character. 

“ Hope is a positive force… Everything created by it is an absolute good! ”

 I couldn’t find my screenshot of this bit oops. An absolute good. In my mind, the only way to make sense of everything he says, is to break down a few barriers here. Hope is good, but you know what else is good? Love. Honesty. Companionship. Joy. Laughter. As soon as I started looking at them as different forms of hope, I started to really find my way with this character. Remember how I mentioned that, in Zettai Kibou Birthday, he feels absolute hope from getting intimate with the certain “someone”?

 Does he want to see hope and despair collide in a magnificent show of fireworks? Yes. Does he also want the pedestrian pleasure of just holding someone’s hand and watching fireworks? Also yes. He wants the splendid and the simple; and while certain circumstances may bring out one side over the other, who honestly couldn’t say the same? That they’d react extremely to an extreme series of events, and calmly to a calm one?

 Remember, Nagito is deeply traumatised, was raised without proper guidance or parenting, suffers from more than one illness that messes up the body and mind, is facing down the end of his life, and has no family, friends or support system. Yes, he dislikes talentless people. Yes, he kind of wants to be one. Yes, he’d rather die than be one. Nothing he feels is going to be straightforward. He has a painful past, a messy present and a future he’ll never have all going on in that mind of his. Of course he wants it all. 

TL;DR: It’s not enough to say absolutely one way or the other. Nagito is a very complex character with opposing views and strong core values he clings to in order to make sense of a senseless world.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

so i'm assuming that all the reincarnated ham crew look like their musical actors, which, awesome. but i was thinking about jefferson, who was a racist fucker being reincarnated as a black man. like. how would that even go down?

*emerges from cave, shamefaced* Right, so, does anyone remember that this AU exists?  Because I swear to God I didn’t forget, I just only now have had the time.  I actually have a bunch of prompts for it, not all of them are going to get written based on...like...my inspiration level, but also this series is alive again, so like.  Yep.  Here is some Jefferson.  Full disclosure, I dislike Jefferson and think his economic plan was some racist bullshit, so...that is evident.

To all you newcomers, I do recommend reading the other stuff, even if you could probably figure it out.  

All In One Spot AU

So, the academic affairs office holds out longer than theirpredecessor.  Not by much, but by alittle.  It takes two full weeks for Alexto hammer through his petition to be allowed to take more than max credits—and it’squite a petition.  Angelica takes one look at the twenty-page,double-sided, single-spaced letter to the dean of academics and disavows anyinvolvement, and John grins fondly, remarking that the dean has no idea what he’sgotten into.

The dean, incidentally, has lived his life with pleasantly dim memoriesof Philedelphia with cobblestone streets and a vague impression that he knowsthe unfortunate teacher annually strong-armed into teaching History of theAmerican Revolution.  He recalls verylittle else of his time in the Continental Congress—indeed, at gunpoint hecouldn’t have identified what exactly he was doing, back then.

He has a blindingly vividflashback upon looking at the first page of the letter—the pamphlet, really—and immediately feeds the entire thing through hisshredder.

“Jake,” he says, sticking his head out of his office to look at hissecretary.

“Yes, sir?”

“Approve whatever Hamilton’s request was before he sends anymoreletters.  I’ve seen enough for severallifetimes.”

“You got it, boss,” says Jake, whose past life was a blissfullyunremarkable farmer in the Italian countryside and who therefore has no ideathat his boss is sparing them all a lot of trouble.

Now, the reason this matters is because Alex walks into his Econ 101class for the first time two weeks into the semester, takes one look at thelesson outline the grad student wrote on the board, and makes a sound ofabsolute incoherent horror.

“Oh my god,” Alex says faintly, frozen in place two steps inside thedoor.  He was never an especiallyreligious person, but he’s wondering if maybe the universe is punishing him forpast crimes.  He’s not saying one way orthe other if he deserves it, but this seems excessive.  “Jefferson is haunting me from beyond thegrave.”

“Listen, kid,” sighs the grad student. She wears her hair buzzed short on one side and is clutching her coffeealmost as fiercely as Alex is, and he thinks this is maybe not her first classtoday from the also, I don’t carelook on her face.  “We’re doing a reviewof some basic socioeconomic structures, and the Jeffersonian/Hamiltonian debateis, like, critical.  So could you--”

“But it’s bullshit,” Alexbursts out before he can even try to hold his tongue.  “It was bullshit when Jefferson first came upwith it, and it’s bullshit now.”

“Jesus Christ,” a voice fromsomewhere in the front third of the lecture hall mutters.  A tall figure unfolds itself from a chair andsays, “Have you ever taken an economics class in your life?”

Alex can actually taste the way his blood pressure skyrockets.  It occurs to him, briefly, that someone—possiblyEliza, also possibly the General—might kill him if he starts a fight right now,but.  On the other hand.  He’s going to start a fight.  He’s got no choice, basically.

“Have you?” he demands rudely,turning to stare up the lecture hall at the young man—maybe a sophomore, he’stoo angry to be sure, but he’s wearing a very questionable magenta hoodie andhis hair is even fluffier than Lafayette’s and honestly he has a very punchableface, in Alex’s humble opinion—and narrowing his eyes.  “I mean, do you have a single legitimateargument for why Jefferson’s bullshit plan would work?  Because let me just say, plenty of Southernersloved to sit around and talk about how the country was being railroaded by thebig cities in the North but--”

“If the North can’t balance their own needs with the supply they cangenerate, why should the South--”

Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it. Alex raises his voice to try to drown the other guy out.  “If the South wants to call itself a part ofa country, it needs to support--”

“State-by-state trade--”

“—what, you expect landowners to share their profits freely enough tokeep a country alive, God you’re naïve--”

“—freedom from the chokeholdof a national bank--”

“—so the country can be held hostage by the South?”

“Farms and farm owners should be able to dictate where their finances--”

“—can’t punish the North for the sin of not having huge arable fields--”

“—your vaunted manufacturing facilities cover it?”

By now they’re bellowing at each other over the heads of the rest of theclass, real anger kicking up an intellectual debate into something familiar,and so Alex isn’t really surprised by the next slip of his tongue.  Old habits, new dogs—old dogs?  Something like that.

Anyway.

Point is, Alex slams his textbook down onto the grad student’s table andhollers, “Goddamnit, Jefferson, I wasright and history proves it, get off your fucking high horse!”

There’s a long couple seconds where Alex remembers, in the dead silencethat’s settled on the lecture hall, that he was kind of planning to keep a lidon that?   Oh well, any hope of secrecywas blown to shit by Washington’s class anyway and fuck it, he’s right, he was right then and he’s right now, andfurthermore—

“Go fuck yourself, Hamilton,” the tall guy says, and Alex has a smallheart attack.

“Jesus God, fucking Christ, what the fuck,” the grad student blurts allat once in a rush, but Alex doesn’t answer her, too busy taking a deep breathto launch his next volley.

Admittedly, it’s not a gracious one, but listen, just listen: Alex is not a gracious personand no one ever said he was, certainly never more than once, and definitely notafter having an argument with him.  

“Hey, look, I’m sure it’s rough to realize that all your best effortsonly ended in Andrew Jackson’s racist ass closing down the federal bank andlanding us all neck deep in shit a hundred and fifty years later--”

“Excuse me, I wrote--”

Alex drives over the tall guy’s protests—Jefferson’s protests, and wow, he’s going to hear about this fromWashington later.  “—but you really haveto get over your bullshit economic plan and just admit that it depends on slavery.”

“It does not!”

“Oh my god it does, it totallydoes, the only way your plan works is if there’s basically no economic overheadfor labor, and like, listen, buddy, I’m not sure if anyone ever told you this,but we had a whole war about the slavery thing, it was a very big deal, itkilled like a million people and then we agreed that slavery was bad.”  Alex pauses and very slowly arches an eyebrowat Jefferson, enjoying this…probably more than he should.  “Do youagree that slavery was bad, Thomas?” he asks with a wide smile.

If Jefferson purses his lips any harder, Alex thinks they might actuallyfuse.  “Still an asshole and animmigrant, I see.”

“Well, not all of us had such an easy karmic target on our backs as,say, just for example, a slave owner with a realbad track record getting brought back as a black guy,” Alex points outgenerously.  “If Maria shows up, I’m morethan happy to let her follow Peggy’s example and punch me, I’m doing mypenance.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Jefferson tells the ceiling.

“I dunno, man,” the girl sitting next to him says.  “Sounds like you might.  Like, I did the reading and your plan was kind of bullshit.”

Honestly this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him—well,no, it’s not even the greatest thing to happen to him this month, but it’s upthere, okay, it’s way up there.  “I feel so, so validated,” Alex tells thegrad student, who looks like she might be in shock?  Her eyes are wide and her jaw is slack, so hecocks his head and asks, “Are you okay?”

She shuts her mouth with a click, closes her eyes, swallows.  Pinches the bridge of her nose between herthumb and finger.  It’s shockinglysimilar to Washington’s patented Headache Pose that always appeared during thelatest cabinet battle royal.  

“Can you two be trusted to not kill each other if you sit on oppositesides of the hall?”

“Come on, now, we worked together for like—most of a couple decades,”Alex says after a second of mental math.

“Yeah,” she says, opening her eyes and visibly trying not to be star struck, which Alex…appreciates, to becompletely honest.  “And then you, youknow, mutually annihilated each other and he spent a couple more decades tryingto blackball your name out of the history books.”

“It’s so rare that I feel like the bigger person,” Alex says, bouncingon his toes.

“That’s because you’re unnaturally small,” Jefferson mutters, sullenlyresuming his seat.

“I am not listening to baseless insults about my height right now, thankyou, Jefferson, I have the eternal trump card and there’s nothing you can doabout it.”

The grad student puts her head back into her hand, and squeezes her eyesshut.

[espvcio]

hey sunshines   !  my name’s dallas, i am nineteen, the australian timezone sucks, and i am your resident history geek. i am beyond excited to get to know you all and interact with your characters. please feel free to message me anytime to plot, headcanon, send me pictures of your pets or to tell me about your day  :’)  now let me tell you a little, or a lot, about jude. there’s more to read under the cut.

► 「 NICK ROBINSON, TWENTY, CISMALE, MUSE 10B 」 hey, have you seen jude malinowski around the streets of mansford lately ? he has been living here for the past twenty years, and during that time people have really gotten to know them as zealous andwitty. rumour has it that they tend to be a bit complacent and cynical, though. i heard they are a store clerk at revolution records. maybe you can find them around the nearby concert venue ! 「 dallas, nineteen, she/her, aest 」

►   backstory.

jude malinowski was born and raised in mansford, texas. the malinowskis conformed to the ideas of the stereotypical suburban, nuclear family. they were normal, regular in every sense of the word. jude and his brother are the second generation malinowskis to be locals in mansford. from an outside perspective, others would describe them as quiet yet having a certain homeliness. a family that breathes an air of contentment. his father, dominik malinowski, is a man only to be described as reticent   —   his father was never a man of many words, was often difficult to please however still had a big heart. he works as a real estate agent in the area of mansford, but also other smaller suburban towns outside of houston. his mother, ruth malinowski, was a stay at home mom for the majority of her sons’ childhood and teenage years. she was, to many, a familiar face around town   —   having acquiantances everywhere, from childhood friends to people she knew from the primary school bake sales she always actively participated in. his mother was always a social animal, even if her relationships with others were often superficial. his parents always seemed to know their place in society, lingered in their middle class status and did not seek to soar higher than they were meant to. they were always quite content in their current position.

jude’s brother, however, he is an entirely different story. lukas malinowski was the type of man you wished for your son to be. lukas was exactly what you would describe to be the boy next door   —   a real golden boy, the pride of the family name. often praised for his academic success, he was also part of the student council for most of his high school years, would often be found conversing with the neighbours on his way back to school, would come home with report cards with only straight a’s and would be the type of man who would safely offer you a ride home late at night. if you were to ask jude, he would describe his brother as nothing but a bore; an overachiever who sought nothing but approval, whose superiority complex was through the roof and who never managed to pique his interest. his parents, their opinions were quite different. his parents were quite ecstatic about the personal successes of their son, often providing him with all the tools to grasp many opportunities he was granted with both hands. he was to become a man with more concrete goals. excelling in the field of biology, mathematics and chemistry, he wished to go into medicine. lukas had big dreams, and the family had big expectations. they felt nothing but pride at one of their sons striving to have more than they had, do more than they had ever done. someone who reached for a societal status higher than their current one, who would marry a nice lady, live in a nice house, have nice children and grow old.

now, these were expectations that lukas malinowski was able to live up to, with his abilities and his aspirations. jude, however   ?   he is a completely different story. experiencing difficulties with school from a very early age, he never set goals for himself that were even remotely similar to lukas’. academic success was out of the question. he struggled in many of his classes, was always visibly distracted, too. he was discouraged by his own inability as well as unwillingness to learn. in school, jude was always a bit cynical, a bit of a class clown type. he would often get in trouble for the littlest things, whether that was his sharp mouth or skipping a class in favour of going downtown to spit through the new releases at revolution records. jude was more of a rebel without a cause   —   maybe calling him a real rebel would be misusing the word, as he was quite mild in his rebellion, however he was always pushin the boundaries and breaking rules. although slightly.

being compared to his brother, there was not a battle he could win. he always felt overshadowed by his brother, who seemed to be the family’s first priority. perhaps it had to do with him being both the oldest and the most traditionally successful. albeit his parents never truly painting jude in a negative light, he always felt somewhat like the black sheep   —   a secondary part of the family, a minor part. it was debatable whether jude would ever be able to surpass his brother. but then again, neither did he really wish to.

►   personality.

the boy being overshadowed by his brother could have led to a fight for the approval of his parents, however it never did. rather than seeking success he knew he would and could not achieve, he sought validation in the simpler things in life. you could say that jude is quite complacent, and finds himself easily pleased with his own achievements for the exact reason that there is nothing more to drive him. validation was something he sought in goals that were more attainable, more attainable for him at the very least. this could be in the very simple form of attempting to bring a smile to someone’s face. playing the role of class clown.

not that approval truly gave him that much satisfaction   —   approval, of anyone, had never been something he attached a lot of value to. if he were to look for that rush of contentment, jude resorted to other forms that granted more immediate satisfaction; that being the recreational use of drugs like marijuana or casual sex. even the thrill of small adventures would be one of many ways in which he were easily pleased.

another thing about jude is that although his interests are quite narrow, he does find himself particularly passionate about those exact things. in his case, the big love of his life is music. music is something that he does wish to succeed in, although it isn’t something that would necessarily earn him his parents’ approval. he wishes to succeed in music on his very own terms. it is something he connects with on a higher level than anything else, and whether the success he achieves is selling out stadiums or having a gig in a small venue in downtown houston is not relevant. all he knows is that he wishes to do something with this passion he has, because it would be the only thing that would not drive him crazy in time. the only thing he would be able to pursue without getting tired, slipping down the black hole of dull everyday life, in which days go by without having something to appreciate.

he has learned to appreciate the littlest things in life, and to keep appreciating the details. sometimes he might lose track of the bigger picture by focusing on merely a small part, but then again, it is debatable whether in jude’s life there truly is a bigger picture. to him, everything is short, quick; as if things will change in a heartbeat. there is no such thing as a ten year plan for the future.

the kind of philosophy jude lives by in life is short and sweet   —   find something that makes you happy. right here, right now. in this case, and for him, that is creating music. he does not follow the example of his brother. he does not reach for the stars, something that would make him lose sight of what he loved so much about music in the first place.

jude also has quite a sharp mouth. he is honest in a manner that it is almost painful   —   he never tries to sugarcoat the truth. he does not feel as if a nicer wording of the harsh truth would be beneficial. to him, the truth is more valuable. in the case of coming to jude for advice, he would never be particularly careful in sharing his opinion. he will often disregard outside factors, such as the opinions of others or the expectations of society. in jude’s mind, the main focus is on one thing and that is ultimate happiness. the seemingly smarter choice does not always achieve that.

all in all, it is easy to say that jude is addicted to the feeling of contentment. of feeling at peace. what he seeks most is life being easy, for his reality to remain tangible. he never wishes for his future to be something abstract, for his relationships to complicate themselves more than they have to. jude wishes to live a life that is low maintenance. simple. nothing out of the ordinary. just the life he wishes to live.

►  aesthetic.

denim jackets, messy undone hair, music that is loud enough to block out your thoughts, riding a bicycle instead of driving a car, oversized sweaters, spending the evening in, to wallow in the presence of close friends, epic guitar riffs, late nights, the cynicism of rock song lyrics, messy bed sheets, walls covered in posters, a large vinyl collection, black dr martens boots, mosh pits, being covered in inexplicable bruises.

►   factual information.

jude made the very conscious decision not to go to college. he did not know what further education he wanted to pursue, neither did he really think higher education was meant for him. although he is unsure what he wants to do for the rest of his life exactly, perhaps wishing to break through in music, he settled for a job at revolution records. it was one of his favourite places around town growing up, hence why it is one of the only places he is able to spend his time. and getting a bit of money for it, too.

despite not going to college, jude did move out of the malinowski family home upon graduating high school. somewhat of a graduation present, perhaps. he lives in the outskirts of the town in one of the more affordable places with perhaps one or two roommates.

jude knows how to play various instruments. he taught himself how to play the guitar first, something he mastered when he was around twelve years old. ever since he has tried to expand his knowledge, attempted to get the hang of various other instruments. he knows how to play the bass, joshua bennett is teaching him how to play a bit of the drums. in his spare time, he even attempts to learn to get the hang of playing the piano. jude also sings, finding that his voice is just another powerful mechanism to share a message. his voice is quite deep, a little rough around the edges. i imagine it a bit similar to eddie vedder from pearl jam. like, not exactly like him but it is very much that vibe   !

his birthday is on april 4th, which makes him an aries. his full name is jude alexander malinowski. nd idk probably more that i’ll add later.

►   wanted connections.

roommates.  i would love to see one or two people he lives together with. these could be friends of his, these could be off campus college students, it could be a complete stranger. whatever dynamic could be very fun   !

childhood friend.   someone he grew up with, perhaps a neighbour of the malinowski’s. someone that has known him from square one and perhaps someone he just cannot envision his life without.

casual fling.   someone’s company he often seeks. not because there is any emotional connection, but because he seeks physical closeness.

enemy.   i’d love to see someone who knows how to push all the wrong buttons. usually jude is quick to cut someone out of his life when they get on his bad side, but i would love a scenario in which it seems impossible to avoid this person   !

ride or die.   someone he is inexplicably comfortable around, the one person he always calls if he were wanting to go on a somewhat impulsive adventure. there is this unspoken agreement that they will always have each other’s back.

one sided crush.   a plot where jude is the subject of their affection, although he is quite unaware. although the love might not be returned from him, it could be a really cute and soft plot.

former friends.   a plot where they used to consider each other close friends however a sudden change of events caused them to have a huge falling out. ever since their relationship is tense and neither seems to be willing to deal with it.

share a secret.   your muse and jude that, regardless of their dynamic, share a secret. whether that is a bad decision they made together, or a very personal detail they told each other. they simply do not trust each other with this information and know that it would ruin their reputation if it were ever to come out.

other connections.   confidants, sworn enemies, childhood crush, family friends, exes on good terms, neighbours, drunk friends, wing(wo)man, enemies to friends, love / hate, mentor, rivalry, good influence, bad influence, anything else that you can think of  !

[kirukkals]

BiH - War-torn yet enigmatic

Sometimes we happen to end up on a holiday to a never 'on the bucket list' country and still feel 'Wow! What a holiday!'. When my husband mentioned the name Bosnia & Herzegovina (BiH), I had to ask twice, repeat thrice to get the name right and then run to the world map on our wall to check out where this place was hidden. An European country, no visa required if we have a valid US visa on our passport and direct flight from UAE, made the travel look very tempting.

Before you read further, a 360 degree tour of Bosnia and Herzegovina made by us during the trip is here below.

We were all set for a 5 day holiday, but what we didn't expect was that heat wave in Europe would strike even BiH. August 2nd week and it was scorching hot (lesser than back home in Dubai), thankfully we rented a car to drive around and we hit the mountains. But global warming and heat wave in Europe is real for sure, let us all keep that in mind and do our part for this Earth. On that note, let me start writing about the trip.

The most important thing to note while reading further, Bosnian English requires us to pronounce 'J' as 'Y' in all nouns, as in, the capital city Sarajevo is actually called Sarayevo. So gear up for some tongue twisters.

We had 5 full days and did 5 main cities. Day 1 begins with a trip to Jajce (remember to say 'Yayce'). A beautiful drive up hill and we reached Pliva waterfalls. We can't really stand under the falls, but the spray is good enough to make you completely wet. A lovely view and walk it was, easily one can spend a few hours in the place. Close by are the wooden watermills, a collection of about 20 little huts that once served as watermills for local farmers, dating back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire. They give the impression of a little storybook village. And the evening ended with a visit to the Verlo-Bosne park in Sarajevo. A perfect picnic spot with all the greenery. We spent the night at Sarajevo.

Day 2 started with the "Tunnel of Hope" at Sarajevo. The tunnel built during the '93 Serbian seige, a very small part of it is still maintained by a Bosnian family, while most of the tunnel has been lost without proper restoration after the war. Just 3 feet wide, when we walked through it, I felt claustrophobic. Couldn't imagine how they used this long, narrow tunnel to transport goods and humans during the war, how much life would have been lost, Bosnians have really had a terrible 3 years. With a heavy heart and some history, left the place and headed to the next city Jablanica.

On the way, we stopped at Konjic, a small town around the lovely old stone bridge. As goes with the tradition, we could see the lovelocks covering the bridge. Wonder if tourists carry locks along just for this, or is it the locals all the time?!

At Jablanica, it is a city of a huge lake with aqua emerald sparkling waters. We also took a detour and did Rama lake, just for its views and location. Blidinje National park was our next stop, another preserved national reserve that could easily serve as a picnic spot on a nice weekend noon. Then we reached Mostar to spend the night there.

As I have mentioned in my previous blogs, we are vegetarians, no eggs, no fish and no meat (yes, some nationals think fish and meat are part of veggie food). So, food options are too less and we carry our own stuff to cook a quick meal wherever we go. Exploring local food and restaurants are not part of our trip. We love to taste all the gelatos and fresh fruits and smoothies though. All through our 5 day trip we were not disappointed with the choices on gelatos, smoothies and local pastries.

Day 3 was Mostar city. The Stari-Most bridge and the old town around it are the main attractions. It is traditional for the young men of the town to leap from the bridge into the Neretva river. It is a steep dive and we got to see one such jump, which was truly scary. The old town shopping was lined with handmade art and craft works. Turkey lights, Mosaic art, knitted bags were all colourful and beautiful. But mostly the monuments and memorials in the country are all abstract art. It is ok for a structure to be abstract, but definitely not the symbols in restrooms. I saw in a couple of places, shoe for men's room and smaller shoe with little heels symbol for ladies room. Not exactly pointed narrow heels. And then, a suit for men, just a simple shirt, pant would suffice, why a long suit which almost looks like a skirt with a flair! So if you don't look twice, you are likely to make a mistake. And even if you do, like I did when I took my girl along, just walk out with your head high and let your girl know, mistakes happen, it is ok, after all we are humans to err !

Next, to the little town of Blagaj which has a monastery on the river Buna. The walk was covered with cafes and I felt it could have had a few less. Mid day at Policej fort was too hot and humid, we gave up the climb till the top and headed to Kravice waterfalls, the biggest in BiH. One of the beautiful locations in BiH definitely. Here swimming is allowed and the only place where we saw huge crowds this summer. Yet, there is enough space for all to swim, boat, picnic and relax. From there, we started our drive up the mountains to the Sutjeska Camp.

Sutjeska Camp is located high up and the drive was extraordinary. But mid way, we took an offroad for 3 kms to join M20 highway and am thankful we didn't do that offroad ride at night. A lonely stony path deep into the forest, with no google to assist, no sounds from any side except for our car, the path seemed unending. Thankfully our car behaved well and no break downs anywhere, and a big thank you to Tantu Maps which worked offline and showed the route. We reached the camp a little after dusk. To stay overnight in a camp was always on the list, though this wasn't a tent, the small wooden huts surrounded by the forest was enough to give the real camp feel. There was no fan, no AC and just dim lights inside. Outside had colourful butterflies, buzzing bees, noisy crickets, barking dogs which sounded more like wolves in the dark! Music at the bar a little further away made us feel better and we got a good night's sleep.

Day 4 morning we wanted to do some trekking, but the weather again was too hot, so we didn't risk losing all our energy. We climbed up the small hill to the Tjentiste War Memorial, which in itself was a trek for me. It is built in the Sutjeska National Park. The War Memorial was built in remembrance of the 3301 soldiers who went to war from Sutjeska. When we went up, there were so many birds circling over and around the monument, it just felt like they represented the liberated souls rising out of the mass graves beneath. The majestic structure is really stunning and can be seen even from the highway. One not to be missed if you are enroute. We started back to the capital city Sarajevo, this time ensuring no offroads.

We had enough time in the evening to walk around the city centre. The city hall building is one of the big structures, which had a huge library and was all engulfed in flames during the war. The restored building looks worn out definitely. The iconic Latin bridge where the WW1 is believed to have begun with the assassination of Archduke Franz of Austria, is a disappointment for tourists. The bridge and the river beneath has not been maintained and it just looks like an old bridge to cross the road. The climb up the Yellow Fortress is definitely worthy for the sunset view from top. We get a bird's eye view of entire Sarajevo and all the cemeteries in the city cannot be missed from this view.

Day 5 began with a short drive to the Bijambare caves. Most parts of the cave is not accessible as they are too narrow or steep. But the climb to the top cave, chill breeze in the mid cave and the springs in the lower cave were enough for us to have a good time. Back to the city, we did find an Indian restaurant Tajmahal, food was pretty decent. The city center mall is an active place for youngsters. Bascarsija is Sarajevo's old bazaar and for anyone interested in shopping, an ideal stop. Locally made honey is quite popular in the country and we did buy one jar. Sebilj Fountain is a symbol of Sarajevo standing at the center of Bascarsija. From there, it spreads into a lot of alleys, scattered houses and tiny gardens.

The '93 war during the Serbian seige has costed a lot to BiH and the country is still trying to come out of it all and improve its economy. This is reflected in the condition of houses, people, cost of living and so on. Tourist places are still being developed and it isn't a typical expensive, well maintained European tourist spot. The city, the mountains, wherever you turn to, you ll find a cemetery. We also saw many signboards, stone carvings stating "Don't forget '93". So, the country is ensuring that the youngsters will not forget the war and their misfortunes. History is important to their people and we get pulled into it too to dig further and know what actually happened. A lesser known place this is, atleast for Indian travellers, but definitely a place to be explored for its beauty and serenity.

[katalyna-rose]

Vhenan

I rewrote it. It’s so much better now... Read it please! Chapters go up as I finish their rewrites. The original version has been removed, not sorry.

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Solas/Female Lavellan, Fenris/Female Mage Hawke, Zevrain/Female Warden Mahariel

AKA: Lyna/Solas, Fenris/Alie, Zevran/Kahlia

Angst, Fluff, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Mildly Conon-Divergent, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Minor Isablea/Merrill, Constructive Criticism Welcome

Summary: Solas, the Dread Wolf Fen'Harel, has left Lyna behind in an attempt to fix mistakes made thousands of years ago. Willing to destroy everything for his goals, he doesn't realize exactly how determined Lyna is to show him a better path. Both worlds could thrive, given the chance. Her world is real and valid and deserves a chance, but so does his. There must be a middle ground.

And there is another reason that Lyna must find Solas, a secret kept from the world that attempted to put her up on a pedestal. But how would Thedas react to such a secret, such undeniable proof that their Herald of Andraste is a person like any other? That she is someone who loves, someone who makes mistakes, who bleeds and cries. And is having the Dread Wolf's child.

Read on AO3!

Chapter One: A Well of Hope

“I begged you not to drink from the Well!” Solas all but yelled, startlingly angry, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Why could you not have listened?”

“Solas…” Lyna said as calmly as she could manage, hoping to soothe him, though she’d never before been the subject of his wrath.

“You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elven god!” He paced before his latest mural, the blue pigment of the Well of Sorrows reflecting the light of the nearby torch.

She frowned, confused by his wording, wanting, as always, to understand. “What does that mean, exactly?” she asked softly.

He seemed to crumple, a deep sigh leaving him, his anger bleeding into resignation as he said, “You are Mythal’s creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her.” He stopped and sighed again as he faced her, resignation blending into sorrow that she didn’t understand. “You have given up a part of yourself.”

Ridiculous. She scowled at him, feeling her own temper surge unexpectedly. “You don’t even believe in the ancient elven gods!” His lips thinned as his jaw clenched, anger resurfacing.

“I don’t believe they were gods, no, but I believe that they existed! Something existed to start the legends! If not gods then mages, or spirits, or something we’ve never seen.” He leaned forward aggressively, punctuating his words with a savage gesture. “And you are bound to one of them now.”

Solas stopped abruptly and looked away from her, breathing deeply in an attempt to reign in his temper. Lyna frowned, watching, concerned about him more than she was about herself; she’d never seen him this upset. Mostly, he held himself aloof, calmly observing the world around him without seeming to be a part of it. The little scar on his forehead was being pulled out of shape by his scowl, and she wanted nothing more than to smooth it out and kiss away his fears. But she knew he wouldn’t let her, that he’d pull away and become even more unreachable than before.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus.” He met her eyes with an intensity she hadn’t seen before. “Which leads to the next logical question: What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?”

“The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were,” she told him, thinking of the many dead bodies they’d seen, slain by mages or Templars or caught in between, those left homeless and hungry, those the Inquisition couldn’t save. She even mourned those who had gone rogue, the red Templars and the Venatori; surely somewhere in history if someone had made a different choice they wouldn’t have felt the need to commit the crimes they stood accused of. “I’ll try to help this world move forward,” she said with conviction. Surely something she knew or had seen or had learned from the Well of Sorrows could offer a solution, or part of one.

“You would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t?” Solas asked, strangely intense, as if her answer meant more to him than the question implied. “What if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what was?”

Lyna frowned, trying to read him, to figure him out, and, as ever, coming up empty. “I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again,” she told him.

“Just like that?” he asked, almost incredulous. She smiled a little.

“If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right,” she reminded him.

He returned the smile, suddenly not nearly so upset. The stiff set of his shoulders softened. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor.” He paused at her sharp look and amended his statement with a purr, “Lyna. You have… impressed me,” he told her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And she felt like all the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She impressed him? She was just a Dalish girl, thrown into the middle of these events by chance. She wasn’t nearly as interesting or impressive as he was. Though he had praised her intelligence and willingness to learn on many occasions, calling it a rare gift, she had always thought she could never compare to the spirits of the Fade he’d introduced her to. It was surreal to hear that he thought so highly of her. She knew he loved her and respected her both as a woman and as Inquisitor, but she knew this was something else, knew the standard to which he compared the world. “You have offered hope,” he continued while she blinked at him, “that if one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grace, that someday things will be better.” He looked away again, though a small smile played on his lips. “Forgive my melancholy. Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries, and its stolen power… That, at least, we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive.”

She decided it was time to jolt him out of this melancholy, as he put it. So she smiled slyly and said, “You’re being grim and fatalistic in hope of getting me into bed, aren’t you?”

His serious expression remained fixed, but his eyes danced. “I am grim and fatalistic,” he told her. Then his expression broke into a warm smile, eyes teasing. “Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Just?” she asked, teasing. He chuckled, and held out his hand.

“Come with me, vhenan,” he said, suddenly eager. She took his hand with a smile and let him lead her out of the rotunda, then out of Skyhold altogether. He took her down a winding, narrow path she hadn’t traveled before. It wound down the mountain away from the enormous camp where most of the Inquisition’s people lived and worked and trained.

“Where are we going?” Lyna asked after a while, curious. Solas brought her hand, which he still held in his, to his lips and sent her pulse racing with a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He smiled, no doubt sensing the sudden heat he’d sent shooting through her body. Bastard.

“Trust me,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with mischief. She swallowed hard, trying to shove down her arousal, and said nothing else as he led her down what she was becoming increasingly certain was a goat trail.

The pink and orange of sunset was fading when she spied a cave ahead. “I didn’t bring my bow,” she told him redundantly; he could obviously see that she was unarmed except for the small knife that never left her person. He chuckled.

“You won’t need it,” he assured her. “Nothing and no one comes this way except for the goats that made this path and the occasional rabbit.”

“And nothing hunts the goats?” she asked archly. He smiled.

“Nothing a little magic cannot scare away.” She sighed dramatically, and he raised a brow in challenge. She said nothing, keeping her chin high in mocking protest. She had no doubt he could keep them safe, but she still enjoyed needling him. He squeezed her hand, enjoying her efforts.

The cave they entered was very dark, but not dark enough that Solas felt he needed to cast light. Water cascaded down the walls with a musical sound, and instead of seeming creepy and ominous as caves frequently did to Lyna it cast an atmosphere of wonder and soft pleasure.

Solas laced his fingers with hers and bumped her shoulder lightly. She looked at him and he gestured ahead with his chin, so she looked. The cave opened just ahead on a moonlit glen. She gasped when she saw a pair of giant statues to Ghilan’nain facing each other on either side of a small pool fed by three narrow waterfalls, the harts’ antlers reaching up as if they would touch the sky. Elfroot grew at the statues’ feet and the water glittered in the moonlight. The area was walled off naturally by stone, the tops too rocky to allow spies or assassins to go unnoticed. The grass was soft beneath her feet, and the musical waterfalls made her want to dance. The flowers that grew here and there added a sweet scent to the strangely warm breeze. Solas squeezed her hand a little, and she squeezed back, smiling at him. A warm look flowed over his face, heating his gaze, and he led her into the glen. They walked slowly, their clasped hands swinging between them, until he stopped not far from the water’s edge.

“The Veil is thin here,” he said softly, touching her cheek gently and sending delicious shivers through her. Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?” He removed his hand, and warm tingles did indeed take its place. She touched her face, enjoying and unnerved by the unfamiliar sensations, then looked up at him. He was so close, the stars sparkling in his eyes. Just a little closer and she could take his lips before he even realized what she was doing. One corner of his mouth turned up a little, and she knew he saw exactly what she was thinking on her face. She was, after all, staring rather intently at his lips. She tilted her head a little to the exact angle that would be best for a kiss, all but begging him to take it.

Instead, he said, “I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.” His thumb moved, caressing her wrist as he held her hand a little tighter, almost as if he were nervous. But that seemed silly; Solas was confident in nearly all he did.

Lyna gave him a small smile. “I’m listening,” she told him. “And I can offer a few suggestions.” She stared hard at his mouth again, taking a breath so that her breasts stretched the material of her shirt taught.

A slight blush delicately colored his cheeks, startling her; Solas never blushed. “I shall bear that in mind,” he said, smiling and refusing to show any sign of being flustered. “For now,” he continued as she smirked at him, “the best gift I can offer is… the truth.” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “You are unique,” he told her softly, and it was her turn to blush. “In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me, more important than I could have imagined.”

His words, spoken softly with an air of simple truth, as if these sentiments were simple facts of life that he could not and would not change, moved her greatly.

“As you are to me,” she told him when he paused, slightly surprised that her voice didn’t waver as her heart pounded in her chest. He smiled, just a little.

“Then what I must tell you… The truth…” he said, and a shadow passed behind his eyes for just a moment, gone almost as soon as it arrived. He paused, breath in his lungs and mouth open to continue, and she waited. When he seemed frozen, she squeezed his hand gently, encouraging him, and he blinked and then continued.

“Your face,” he said at last. “The Vallaslin.” Lyna resisted the urge to touch the slightly raised sacred tattoos on her face. She wore the symbols of Mythal, the Mother and Protector, and had ever since she had come of age. The dark purple lines depicted branches crisscrossing her forehead and cheekbones into her hairline with a line from her mouth spreading down her chin. “In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

“She frowned, confused. “They honor the elven gods,” she told him, as she had been told since she was old enough to ask.

“No,” Solas said softly, shaking his head. “They are slave markings. Or, at least, they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

Lyna took a half step back, her confusion blending into something approaching horror. “My clan’s Keeper said they honored the gods. These are their symbols.” Please be wrong, she thought desperately. Please let this be the one thing he has wrong.

“Yes,” he told her, soft and sad. “That’s right. A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

She felt tears gathering and tried to step them. “So this is… what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?” She had learned more about her people with Solas and the Inquisition than she had studying with her Keeper and hahren. She did not doubt his word, had learned long before that he would not say a thing he did not know, without a doubt, to be true, but it sent a knife of pain into her heart. Her people had ever refused to be slaves, to succumb to those who saw them as inferior. They were Dalish because, when the Dales fell, they refused to give in. But this was wrong. Her people should have known.

“I’m sorry,” Solas said, though Lyna wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for her pain, for telling her, or for how much her people were wrong about.

She took a deep, unsteady breath and looked away. “We try to preserve our culture,” she said haltingly, “and this is what we keep? Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter?”

With gentle fingers under her chin, he lifted her face so that she would look at him. “Don’t say that,” he told her softly. “For all the Dalish got wrong, they did one thing right.” He smiled, just a little, and it changed his sorrowful and almost guilty look to one of pride. “They made you.” She smiled and gave a watery half laugh. He was just trying to lessen the sting the truth; she knew he didn’t think much of her people and she knew he had just reasons for that. But she had worn slave markings with pride for half her life, had looked on with envy as her clan mates received theirs, and he knew this hurt her.

“I didn’t tell you this to hurt you,” he told her earnestly. She’d known that, of course, that he shared the knowledge simply so that she would know. But the truth was not always kind. “If you like, I know a spell.” Her eyes widened as she guessed where he was headed with this. “I can remove the Vallaslin.” She looked away, and his hand fell away from her face, reluctantly. She took a deep breath and thought about it.

“These marks have been a part of me for so long,” she said slowly. “I don’t know if…”

“I’m so sorry for causing you pain,” he said, and the small hitch in his voice revealed exactly how much her pain affected him. “It was selfish of me.” That got her to look at him. Selfish? He was many things, but selfish? “I look at you and I see what you truly are.” His hand lifted as if he wanted to touch her face again, but he lowered it before he did. She wished he hadn’t; she craved his touch almost like a drug. “And you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent.”

She looked into his eyes and saw with perfect clarity, for the first time, exactly what he felt for her. Though she had known that he cared for her, ar lath ma whispered in her ear on many occasions, the strength of love she saw there in those blue depths was enough to frighten her and make her want to hold him and never let go. His eyes shone with affection and tenderness, and suddenly she felt ridiculous for ever having thought that all his sweet words were not meant with perfect sincerity, with the same intensity that filled every word he said to her. But she was just a woman, Dalish, and her people had been unkind to him. She was only a hunter, her feet firmly in waking though she was slowly learning to shape her dreams. But he was a storyteller of incredible wisdom, and he wielded magic she’d never seen or heard of elsewhere. Coincidence had placed the Anchor on her hand, and necessity had driven her to use it to close the rifts they encountered. Her title of Inquisitor felt more honorary than true to her. She did little without the advice and consent of her advisors and there was so much she had no power to change.

And Solas… He was wise and worldly. He had seen things she could never have dreamed of, had walked the world and the Fade and learned so much more than she could imagine. He was strong and brave, fighting his enemies with a ferocity few could rival. And yet he was compassionate and understanding. He saw his enemies as living people, not merely as obstacles or abstract threats. He had played, and won, an entire game of chess with Iron Bull using neither board nor pieces, only the power of his incredible mind. What could one little Dalish girl be to a man like him?

And yet the truth shone in his eyes. Lyna could be many wonderful things to a man like him, it seemed. And suddenly, with an urgency that nearly staggered her, she wanted it all in a way she had never allowed herself before. She wanted this man before her. She wanted his love and to love him in return. She wanted a life with him. Could that even be possible?

But she had a choice to make, and she would always choose freedom. It was an ideal that was so much a part of her that she had fought against even being claimed by her former lovers, unwilling to tie herself to them. But Solas only ever sought to set her free, and she wanted this. She took a deep breath and said, “Then cast your spell. Take the Vallaslin away.” He smiled, and the love in his eyes shone even brighter, if possible.

Read on AO3!