#I hope this messy convoluted answer helps you in some small part

[alarrylarrie]

Hi. I’m a very new Larrie. I fell down the rabbit hole recently after seeing so many blogs, videos, etc. A question lingers in my mind about Louis tho. He appears to have such a categorized fan base and on such a wide spectrum. I’ve not seen something like this before with other artists. Usually if you like their music, you like their music and that’s where it ends. But with Louis it seems some support is conditional. I’ve seen some blogs even say that if he doesn’t come out in the documentary they’re done with him. Which seems so wrong because coming out is such a personal thing. And then adding a partner with Harry’s visibility in the public, it’s even more personal. A fan thought process like that seems more as if it’s for their own sake versus Louis’ well-being, which was disappointing to read. Then I see other fans say if he has any of “1Dead” in the documentary they’re done, even tho those times were important to him. Other fans say that if Eleanor isn’t in it, they’re done and if “his son” isn’t in it, they’re done. None of the other 1D members had those types of conditions from what I’ve seen, so I guess being new I’m just wondering what makes Louis different? And was it always like this for him and his fans? I just sort of see him as a person who is lost and confused on what to do these days. I know people got angry about the LA pap walk, but what I got from that pre-walk video was that he looked so lost, confused and nervous. It was very different from when he was around Harry in the videos I watched while in the band. He seemed so natural around Harry. That’s what really solidifies my thoughts on Larry, plus all of the obvious coincidences that are present even today. This question turned out to be a lot longer than I intended. Sorry! I enjoy your blog and your opinions so I thought I’d ask you. You give really insightful answers. Thank you!

Hello anon! Welcome to the fandom! We’re so happy to have you here. And I’m so thankful you’ve found any enjoyment from my blog, seriously.

As for Louis… it’s complicated, yeah? He’s a complicated person!

I think a lot of fans were instantaneously drawn to Louis. He’s a very bright, magnetic person, and so a lot of very different people of all different backgrounds love him. And because of the way he’s been treated by the powers that be, combined with a lot of the loss/pain he’s experienced personally that he has frequently discussed overcoming - a lot (most) of his fans feel very strongly about him. Protective of him in a sense, loyal to him in other senses.

His personal life has also always been extremely… odd. It was pushed forward basically from the jump, even as Louis himself was being pushed to the back of the band by the people pulling the levers. That tension, that push/pull dynamic made eagle eyed fans particularly interested- which is of course where his relationship with Harry comes in.

When the band… went on hiatus, lol, there was a LOT of uncertainty. People didn’t know if Louis would do music at all. And… how can I say this delicately? There was a bit of fracturing of this fandom, and larries had a hard time, honestly. Harry didn’t take off like a rocket even though it feels like it now, but he was being set up and rumored to be moving forward with a solo career. This created another level of tension for a lot of people. Unfortunately, there was a lot of resentment and hurt that built up amongst fans. Harry was drawing back into Harry Styles™, we didn’t have a clue what was happening with Louis professionally, and the tension of his public life versus private life was at an all time high.

I think when people say their support is conditional, that most of them are bluffing. I also think that a lot of people will continue to support Louis by purchasing albums/merch/tickets, etc. but they might not take part in fandom any longer. That, to me, is a direct result of the tension around Louis being what it is. This tension has always been there, but the cognitive dissonance and the gaslighting gets exhausting for people sometimes.

It’s super layered and challenging- I haven’t even talked about the push/pull tension between Louis Tomlinson, comrade, man of the people, fierce lover of his fans, and Louis Tomlinson™, who exists and is also sloooowly pulling back into that shell (because he has to!)

As for him being lost… I don’t know if he’s lost so much as I think he’s probably got a lot on his mind. Debuting a new “girlfriend” is always hard on all of us, but most especially him. I can’t imagine how much he must hate having to see all of our reactions.

Anyway! TL,DR: Yes, it has always been like this. No, I don’t think other artists have the same level of “conditions” around then that *some* people seem to put around Louis. I also think it’s important to remember that a lot of people tend to blow off steam and then not follow through on their threats, AND some people are worn down after years upon years of tension and gaslighting.

[whentommymetalfie]

Doing the thing! Do you have any headcanons about what Alfie was like before the war? Or about how Alfie handled all the shit he'd seen and done while over there and how, compared to Tommy, he got to be in a mentally decent place with himself?

Okay this is a bit (or a lot) all over the place, but I’ve tried to include a little bit of everything on the quite extensive subject of Alfie before and after the war. I hope you’ll like it (despite the arguable... messiness) and thank you for sending a request!:) 

--

-Alfie after the war has quite a few similarities with Alfie before the war. Losing his mother at a young age and fleeing Russia taught him pretty early that life can and will be grim. So even though the horrors of war were definitely worse than anything else he’s experienced, it’s not entirely... unexpected may be the wrong word, but it’s entirely new.  

-If Tommy spends every waking moment working with frenetic energy in an attempt to drown out all his feelings after the war, it’s had the opposite effect on Alfie. There’s this weariness in him now that wasn’t there before -and sure, he still takes every opportunity to screw someone over if it means expanding the business, but it’s more of a routine he just has to follow, because what else is he supposed to do?

-Although Alfie has always been what people like to call ‘hotheaded’ -he wasn’t quite as quick on the draw before the war. He had a bit more patience with people. A bit longer fuse. And sure, these days it’s often a calculated move, using violent outbursts to keep people on their toes, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it feels like there’s something inside his head that broke during the war: some nerve or wire in his brain that never quite stitched itself back together.

-Though it was worse right when he came home, when every little thing would set him off, simply because he had this constant simmering rage underneath his skin. He’s had to learn how to deal with that, and it took a long time to find ways around it. Simple tricks like counting, or distracting himself by listing all the ingredients to his mum’s challah in his head works. As cliché as it may sound, just getting that moment of distraction gives him enough time to take a step back and make an actual conscious choice, rather than to slam his fist into whoever just pissed him off.

-Alfie’s backpain is also a remnant from the war -nerve damage the field doctor said, but it’s pretty vague and he never really got a proper answer to what causes it. Some days it’s hard to have a physical reminder of the war, even though he’s tried to separate it from that, and just view it as one in the line of aches and pain that one can get from working in his profession. But Tommy is very perceptive when it comes to this, and always pays Alfie a bit of extra attention during these days: Makes sure they don’t stay too long at the office, that he’s up and moving every once in a while (because he’s read that it’s supposed to help). And then gives him a very painful but effective backrub when they get home. Maybe runs him a bath.

-Religion has always played an important role in Alfie’s life: the Jewish community he grew up in gave him a sense of belonging, so it’s only natural that it’s become an intricate part of who he is. And in the midst of all the chaos of… life, there’s something comforting about being part of something bigger.

-Though smuggling rum and bookmaking are not exactly things that are encouraged in the Torah, so there are some complicated feelings on the matter -at least on those occasional sleepless night. And the war further complicated things: somehow it feels like he should denounce God after the things he saw during it. But it clings to him, his faith, because it’s just always been there, always been part of him and his life. It’s not something he can choose to take off like a sweater that doesn’t fit anymore. And for the most part, he’s pretty happy to still have it.

-War can make anyone doubt the existence of a higher power, especially one with mankind’s greater good in mind. They talk about it once, he and Tommy. And Tommy asks how he can still believe in God after the war.

“Well, I reckon that he makes us walk through a desert every once in a while, right, but there might be something good at the end of that desert-“ Alfie says, surprisingly brief in his answer, and gives Tommy this look, all soft eyes and sincerity. And then Tommy can’t come up with something cynical to say.

-Over all, Alfie has just accepted the war and the damage it did in a different way than Tommy, and he’s dealt with his emotions rather than keeping them all buried. And sure the way he’s dealt with them -by raging, getting in various fights, fucking people he probably shouldn’t have fucked- hasn’t always been the most healthy, but it’s still better than just burying it all.

-And as full of shit as life can be, you have to appreciate when something good comes along. Small, good things. Like… seeing a happy dog.

-And that’s why Alfie bakes bread at home (not very often before he meets Tommy. And very often after he does). And thinks it makes sense to sleep in every once in a while. And read his favourite books over and over again.

-And if you have to live for something, Alfie decides, living for those small good things is a reason as good as any. And there’s peace in accepting that things will be shit for the most part, but that if you’re lucky, you’ll find a few little good things every now and then.

-Though this view changes a bit when Tommy shows up at his bakery and bleeds all over his desk, because suddenly Alfie’s got this… incredibly good thing in his life, and he doesn’t know how to handle it at first. Whenever he comes across too good of a thing, he’s got this feeling that it might be ripped from him at any moment. (That’s partially why he quickly becomes what Tommy would call ‘insanely over protective’.)

-So Alfie takes care to remind himself every now and then how lucky he is to have Tommy in his life. And he of course reminds Tommy of it just as often, often through long speeches containing a lot of arguably convoluted metaphors about... the color of his eyes, or his freckles. 

-Or sometimes just through something simple, like bringing him breakfast in bed, or buying him cigarettes before he even runs out of them. 

-Tommy is secretly equally appreciative of all of them. 

[notlucy]

Hi! I hope you're enjoying a slow week after recent busy times . I'm curious about your process. You seem to have many discrete steps, including, I think, writing, rewriting, line edits, and uploading. I've also seen you mention an out-loud reread and grammer edits as a separate thing. What exactly do each of these steps include? Do you do it all for everything you write (including nonfan stuff)? How long do they each take, relatively? big fan of your work! TY for all the effort and time :)

Hi! Thank you so much for this question, and also for the compliments about my work. I’m happy to talk about my process, but I want to preface it with the fact that I firmly believe that every single writer and creator is different, and that just because something works for/has helped me, does not mean it will work for or help everyone. In fact, some of the things I do might hinder other people, and that’s okay! A big part of doing this has been figuring out my own weird little idiosyncratic crap, which can be a fun part of everyone’s journey.

Another thing is: this is supposed to be fun! Yes, I’m attempting to pursue writing professionally, which is why I have developed this convoluted, nonsense process. However, I wouldn’t do any of it if I didn’t get some joy or enjoyment out of the crazy hoops I jump through for a final product - I really, really love doing all these ridiculous things, and it’s part of what makes writing fun for me. So if the thought of doing this is exhausting and you think I am a glutton for punishment, please don’t do it. Be smarter than me. Love your hobby and let it bring you joy however it brings you joy!

So, my process (my own, my precious)

Writing - This is the stage where I just spew everything out into Scrivener or Google docs. My outlines are sparse to none, and while I might have a single document with a numbered list meant to loosely correlate to eventual chapters, it’s more of a guideline than any definite thing. (For example, my outline for merBucky chapter 1 was the line “Steve leaves home”.) My first drafts are usually messy and incomplete, with ideas that aren’t quite fully formed, and the gist of a lot of things, without the meat of them.

The “don’t poke the bear” stage - where I try not to touch the story for 3 weeks to a month. Longer if possible. This allows me to forget what I’ve written entirely.

Rewrite - This is something I’ve been doing since Family Placement, to a certain extent, but didn’t really formalize until I was doing Small Star. Basically, I take that first draft, put it side-by-side with a blank document, and retype the entire thing from scratch. This allows me to take what I already had, read it fresh, and try to figure out what I actually wanted to say. During this phase, I tend to find a lot of those half-formed ideas, or areas where I was over-explaining, or places where I hadn’t quite gotten the characterization right. (I keep picking on merBucky, but a lot of the rewrites involved going, “who is this guy? I know it says Steve Rogers on the page, but uh…this is not Steve Rogers!”) The story usually grows between 15-20% during this phase, too, as I’m expanding a lot on basic ideas.

Line-edits - I have no idea if this is the official term for what I do, and I only started doing this when I got my new printer (the first story I did it on was Go Fish, I think), but I print the entire story out and go over it with a red pen. This is, I think, the biggest change to my writing process since I started, and I honestly have found it the most helpful. Seeing the work in a different medium helps me catch so much more. I tighten prose, I spot odd sentences, I see where I’m reusing phrases and words, etc. etc. Please don’t get me wrong, it’s a pain in the ASS to do it this way, but (for me) the results are worth it. This is also where the story shrinks back down another 10-15% as I’m cutting out a lot of extraneous shit.

Regretting everything - This is the part where I’m faced with a million red pen slashes to put back into the Scrivener document and I start crying. But it’s fine, it’s fine!

Beta - Self-explanatory. Story goes to between 1-3 betas at this point. (Note: this is not the first time other people have seen the story, usually, as I have some alphas I brainstorm ideas with, but this is usually the first time I’m asking for crit and not just cheerleading or brainstorming). Once the beta edits come back, I make the necessary changes.

Out-loud - Also self-explanatory. I read every single word of everything I post out-loud to myself. This is the final step to catch weird sentences, odd word choices, or things that just don’t sound naturalistic in dialogue. Or if, say, your one-armed assassin suddenly has two arms. Just lil’ things that the final once-over helps to catch.

Grammarly - I have a premium membership to Grammarly, and if you’re a SPAG nerd, I can’t recommend it enough. It catches a LOT of shit. Real pedantic shit that I never would have caught otherwise, and SPAG has never been my problem. It’s also good for catching where you’ve accidentally inserted two commas, or forgotten to throw in a period, or little tiny things your brain might jump over when you’re doing it yourself. Granted, it also points out a lot of things where I’m like “no Grammarly, you don’t understand my prose,” because at the end of the day it’s just a tool, and it’s what you make of it.

AO3 (if it’s fanfic) - I post, then I spend the next hour fretting, and then like months later I catch additional mistakes. So, you know. It’s a living.

To answer your question as to whether or not I do this for everything, the short answer is yes, the long answer is: yes if I give a shit about it. I will always do it for fic, or for fiction writing. When I’m writing for work or for school…eh, depending on the class/paper, I’ll do a lot of this, but not the whole process. And as far as how long each step takes me, it depends on the length of the story, but I reliably write around 1,500 words a day, same with rewrites. If I’m editing, I can get about 20 pages of line edits and/or inputs done in an hour-ish?

I hope that was what you were wanting when you asked! I feel like this entire thing is a cautionary tale. Mwah!

[thewrittenpost]

Twenty Questions Tag

I was tagged by @cohldhands​; thank you so much! I’m gonna put this under a Read More to keep things small!

1. Is there any scene from any piece you’ve written that actually scared you? If so, describe the scene.

Scared, not so much. I was disgusted with the scene I did for Xavier and his necromancy, because he’s just not good. At all. Like, he kills a girl to summon a dead warrior for his army, and his biggest concern afterwards is that his robe is ruined. Like... dude. That’s your priority? Ick.

2. What genre do you feel most awkward writing?

Ooh... I’m not good at sci-fi. Or mystery really. And despite the fact that I seem to stick at least one romantic pair into my works, I’m not exactly... great at it. At least past hugs and innocent little kisses. I can do those. Anything more than that is just awkward.

3. How many different types of writing do you write? Types of writing include novels, short stories, poetry, song lyrics, etc.

Um... I did some short stories for class, and I’m attempting novels. I’m not great at poetry, unless you’re counting like... haikus (and even then...). So I guess two?

4. How old were you when you first started writing?

Ooh... I was in fourth grade when I really started, so I must have been like... nine? I wrote this horrible story about a girl and her dog for another classmate, whose reading level was far below “typical” levels, and gosh, I was so proud of it when I wrote it, but man, do I want to forget it now. I seriously hope my classmate took it home with her at the end of the year, and that my teacher doesn’t remember it. Unlikely, as she remembers me reading under the desk during class, but I still have hope that she forgot that part of the year.

5. How confident are you in your writing?

I’m... not. I mean, academic writing, like research papers and what not, I’m pretty confident in, but my fiction? Uh, yeah, I’m not so sure about that. I mean, I can’t get the images in my head down on the paper right and it’s just... ugh, I’m not good enough for it. But I’m practicing, and with practice I should improve!

6. Have you ever written and posted anything that was very personal to you?

Not really. I put some stuff in fanfiction that was more personal, but nothing very major. I’ve considered it, but when I’ve talked about those things offline, I got brushed off and some people told me it was no big deal and to get over it, so I just... avoid it now. Honestly, if I ever post something that came out of a personal place, I’ll probably write it as a fiction and never tell anyone.

7. What inspired you to start writing?

I was a huge reader growing up; my Nana always told us if we wanted to watch something based off a book, we had to read the book first, so that was a thing. And then I just wanted to write.

But as much as I say I try to forget that fourth grade “book” I did, that classmate was actually a huge part of it. Like, there was nothing that she could read/understand/test on in our class library. Keep in mind, she was at like... a kindergarten/1st grade reading level in fourth grade. And I wanted her to have something to read... which is how Suzy and her dog Bozo became a thing. Not sure if Suzy was actually the girl’s name, but it sounds write for 4th grade me.

8. Which of your OCs do you relate to the most?

Out of all of them? Probably Violet. I’ll be honest and admit that a lot of her traits are also mine. She’s not quite me; she’s a lot more assertive for one, and she’s not exactly one to back down from what’s right (in her eyes), but some of her backstory came from my life. (I’ll leave it to y’all to guess which parts as I post more about her)

If not Violet, then it’s probably Tobias. I completely relate to hiding the bad things behind a smile, so that’s a thing.

9. Have you ever written self-insert fanfiction?

I have, and nope, no one will ever know which one ever. Middle/High school was a bad time for me and fanfiction ideas, let’s just leave it at that.

10. What is your favorite piece you’ve ever written about?

Ooh, that’s a good one. I don’t actually know. I’m pretty fond of the ones I’m working on now, but... I tried writing out a script in high school (it’s gone, don’t ask) based off the Japanese Internment during WW2. It’s a really important thing for me to have tried, and I intend to go back to it one day, but that’s got to be my favorite because of how personal that time period is.

11. How frequently do you actually sit down and write?

I’ve been really good about sitting down and working on my stuff, whether it’s brainstorming, worldbuilding, or writing little bits every day! It’s my resolution for the year, and I’ve pretty much stuck to it!

12. How many hours at a time do you do research on your writing?

It depends on the thing I’m writing. Like... the Japanese Internment takes far less time to research because gee, I’ve got tons of sources already at home, and I’ve already done a bunch. But the less I know, the longer it takes. And because I don’t trust the internet sometimes, I double-check everything I find on it, so it takes a little longer.

13. Do you like to branch out in your writing or do you tend to stick to what you know?

I... tend to stick to what I know. Maybe one day I’ll branch out, but for now, I’ll stick to what I’m comfortable with. I have a hard enough time with that, you know?

14. What would your antagonist of your current WIP say to you if they saw you in person?

Huh. Frog Prince’s major antagonists are themselves, so they’d probably yell at me. Xavier from Death’s Eyes would tell me to make myself useful (in some way) or he’d just kill me. And since the antagonist in Villain’s Intern is technically a hero, he’d probably give me some inspirational speech or something.

15. Do you consider yourself your OCs’ god or just kind of a guiding hand (or other? If other, please list)?

Hahahahahahahaha, other. I’m the poor historian desperately trying to figure out what happened so I can make a reasonably accurate retelling of the events, I have no hand in any of this, help me

16. What do you think you’d be doing with your time if you’d never gotten into writing?

More video games. Probably more reading. Maybe more crocheting and sewing, because I’d have more time to do those!

17. Have you ever written a smut piece?

....Yes. I don’t remember if I ever posted it, it was awkward and horrible to write, I’m still not comfortable with it. I can read smut without much issues, but writing? That’s something I’m not quite sure practice will help with. ^^’

18. What was the first thing you ever wrote about?

Not counting school work? Suzy and Bozo. A girl and her dog. Silly adventures a 4th grader could think of.

19. What is the most creative creature you’ve ever created for world-building?

Uh.............. most of mine come from other things, but I suppose Matelus has these fire rock things that I haven’t talked about much. They’re rocks mostly, but they’ve got lava as the equivalent of blood, and can breathe fire, and they’re actually pretty passive. Some of them have gems that would be like... hair, but not all of them. They don’t attack people, except in defense (because people try to steal the gem hair) and they mostly just... make things. They’re more the smith part of Matelus than anything else, and I want to hug them. Except they’re rocky and hard and kind of spiky, so probably not a great idea.

20. Tell me one random fact about your WIP that you have yet to tell your followers.

Uh... I... don’t know. What’s not a spoiler? Um... so, relation-wise in the Frog Prince world, the major conflicts link back to the same family. Like, Gwen and Rhia are sisters. Scarlet has to face her curse because she’s trying to find Gwen. Rhia becomes Alba (Snow White’s) stepmother, and Gwen and Rhia’s grandmother is the one who curses Aoife (Sleeping Beauty). Like, they’re all connected and I feel like it might get too convoluted and messy, so it might change, but as things stand, that’s the way it is.

I also feel I might have said that before, but... yeah. I’m not going to tag anyone, but if you want to do it, please please tag me so I can see what you answer too!

[charlielabouff]

two can keep a secret → darlie

WHO: Dallas Dwarf ( @dallasdwarf ) & Charlie La Bouff

WHEN: Saturday, October 11th 

WHERE: 4533 Spindle Street

WHAT: After hearing about her “broken roommate”, Charlie decides to have a little chat with her.

Charlie had heard that there was some drama with the lower class, and she had been trying to stay out of everyone else’s drama and attempted to stay out of it. She promised that she would focus on herself and not everyone else. Put herself first. But she couldn’t help but feel her heart ache when Darcy — Darcy out of ALL people — told her that her roommate was broken. Part of her wanted to say that it wasn’t her business and she needed to just stay out of it, but the other part of her knew that she didn’t wanna see anyone miserable. Or broken. The blonde let out a soft breath of air, Stanley the cat in her arms as she moved toward the brunette’s door. She knocked on it, before peering her head inside. “Someone wants to see you,” she offered, giving her a slight smile and dropping the black cat and watching as he immediately began to move toward the brunette.

Dallas had kept to herself since Halloween. She'd taken a step back from interviewing people. She hadn't felt like it, she hadn't felt like a lot of things, and it confused her. She was supposed to be good at finding answers and right now she wasn't even sure what questions she should be asking. She went straight from school to her room nowadays, and as a result her room was a little messier than it'd been, a slow steady pile of dishes building on her side table as she watched hour upon hour of useless television, hoping maybe if it rotted her brain enough she wouldn't feel this random confusion. She slid off her headphones when she heard a knock on the door, pausing The Voice and watching curiously as her roommate and her cat entered. Dallas couldn't help letting out a small smile at the sight, and she shrugged the blanket off her shoulders to seem a little more presentable and not like some miserable sack of a person. "Hi, Stanley," she cooed under her breath, letting the animal approach before looking up at Charlie and giving her an appreciative smile. She felt a need to apologize for her room and before she could help herself, she blurted "I promise I'll wash my dishes soon", looking nervously back at her roommate. "But um, thank you very much. I'll try not to keep him from you too long."

Charlie smiled slightly when she saw the girl smile, clearing her throat and pushing her blonde locks behind her ear. She couldn’t help but glance around the slightly messy room. All creative brains worked better in a mess, right? That’s what she was told. She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes flicking back over to her cat when he meowed and hopped onto the bed. She tried not to get jealous. She tried really hard. It was obvious that there was something wrong with the girl. She hadn’t been — well, poking and prodding like she normally had. She looked back Dallas, shaking her head and waving her hand in front of her face. “Clean ‘me when you want, just don’t let ‘em sit there for too long otherwise they might get mold.” She cleared her throat, nodding at her words before shifting awkwardly between her feet before shoving her hands into her back jean pockets. “It’s no problem. I figured you could use the company,” she offered a smile. There was a pregnant pause as she tried to figure out what to do, wondering if she should just go and let her take comfort in her cat or if she should sit down and talk to her. She’d experienced first hand what it was like keeping things to herself — not talking about it and bruising her big toe because of all the pent up emotions she’d felt. She slowly moved toward her, sitting on the edge of her bed and she wiped her hands on her jeans. “Y’know, hiding in your room and not talking to someone about whatever’s going on — won’t fix it.” Wow. She really did have a mom voice.

Dallas scratched Stanley behind his ears, absent-mindedly. She hadn't really sought out the cat much lately either. That was something she should do more often, especially if she apparently had Charlie's blessing now. She nodded at the dishes talk, too lazy to take a mental note to wash dishes later but sure she wouldn't forget. There was a moment, a silence, where Dallas wasn't sure if Charlie was going to leave or if she was going to say something. Even though she saw the older girl sit down, she was still surprised by what came out of her mouth next. It made Dallas blink quickly. Charlie was right, but her usual go-to to talk to about things felt wrong for some reason. She shifted uncomfortably, wondering if this was how she made other people feel when she asked them invasive questions. "I'm not sure what can fix it, because I'm not...I'm not totally sure what's wrong," Dallas admitted. Her throat felt weirdly itchy like she was going to start crying, which didn't make any sense. She wasn't that upset, right? "I don't know how to talk through something that I'm not sure what's wrong in the first place, or, I mean, I have thoughts as to what could be wrong, but those thoughts don't make any sense and I don't know where to go from there and it's a lot." She laughed sadly, then cleared her throat. "I have theories but those theories scare me and, um..." she trailed off, feeling like she was talking too much and shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sure I sound ridiculous right now."

Charlie listened to the younger girl, folding her legs under her and fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie. Her eyes never left her face, to show her that she was all ears — that she was listening to her despite not really knowing her that well. There had been signs that the girl wasn’t doing well, and she almost wanted to kick herself for not realizing it sooner. Charlie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, reaching over and scratching the cat under his chin — just so she had something to do with her hands. Because she wasn’t sure if the girl felt comfortable enough with being hugged or with a comforting pat on the shoulder, or if that was something she would’ve wanted in the first place. “Okay,” she drew out the word, nodding before her eyes flicked up to her face, letting out a soft laugh, “No, you don’t sound ridiculous.” She shifted, turning so she was facing the girl and hesitantly resting her hand on her arm. “If you tell me what’s going on with you, I’ll tell you something that’s been going on with me,” she offered a slight smile, “I know I haven’t been the — ideal cottagemate but I’m all ears. Figuratively.”

Dallas could feel Charlie's eyes on her, and she met them once in a while as she was speaking, but it was still nerve-wracking. Asking people questions was one thing, but talking about yourself to someone was difficult; she realized she still wasn't versed or good at that when it was anyone but Tristan, but the idea of talking to Tristan right now about her feelings felt like fireworks erupting in her stomach. She held her breath waiting for Charlie to tell her that she was crazy or that she was right, to validate or to calm her, for something, and honestly, she said the best possible thing she could've said. Dallas let out a breath at the physical contact, grateful for it, but even more grateful for an information exchange. No matter how badly she was feeling, the option to learn something new always made her feel a little more alive. "Really?" she asked hopefully, then nodded. "Thank you, yes, I think I would like that very much, actually. Um, should I go first then?" She giggled a little, feeling nervous but ready to share.

Charlie honestly hadn’t thought that she’d agree to such a thing — because there hadn’t been anything that was bugging her. She and Wes were stronger than ever, she was — kinda doing an okay job as captain of the soccer team. They weren’t losing, and that was all that mattered. Though, she knew the one thing that would always bother her would be her father. Finding out who he was. Knowing that she’d told one of her — other siblings about it and knowing that he knew. But she wasn’t sure that telling Dallas, who was close to Tristan, was a good idea. She nodded, her eyebrows raising at the giggle that fell from her lips and she nodded. “Definitely. Since I asked you first,” she stated with a nod, giving her arm another gentle squeeze, “And I won’t judge, I promise.”

Dallas felt her resolve strengthen at the arm squeeze - it felt almost like Tristan's hand-squeezes that made her feel ready for anything, and just thinking about those squeezes made her feel nervous all over again! What was this madness? "Okay. I apologize in advance for how convoluted this may come out, because honestly, the thoughts in my head aren't straight so I doubt it'll translate to words well, but I'll try my best." She took a breath and considered that there was really only one place to start. "So Tristan got his first kiss on Halloween. And I didn't." She swallowed and put her hand atop of Charlie's. "And I know he didn't ask for it and I know Baby's said it didn't mean anything and Tristan is acting completely normally but I'm not. And I don't know why. At first I thought I was scared that he was growing up without me and leaving me behind, but a little introspection has told me that's not the case. He's not going to leave me behind, not ever, no matter what happens in our lives. We've been a force ever since we met at his dad's pub and he saved me from being lifted on those barge-sized shoulders," she chuckled, smiling at the memory before furrowing her brows again in the frustration of completely not understanding her own emotions. "But if I'm not scared he's leaving me behind, what am I scared of? Am I scared at all? Why is it such a big deal to me? Because honestly it doesn't even have anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking about him!" Her voice raised a bit by the end and she cleared her throat, lowering her head. "Sorry. But that, I suppose, is what's getting me down. And there's nothing to fix and nothing to do about it but wonder why my brain is just stuck there like some useless broken machine." She let out a deep breath, wondering if she felt better or not saying it outloud. It certainly made her feel more irrational. "So that's my thing."

Charlie listened, her eyebrows raising slightly when her hand rested on top of her own before she smiled at the brunette — making sure she nodded every once in a while as she continued talking. She even took her hand in her own, setting their conjoined hands in her lap. The more the girl spoke, she couldn’t help but smile even more. This must’ve been how everyone felt when she’s talk about her confusion with how she felt about Wes. That there was something so obviously in front of her, but she just couldn’t see it until she figured it out herself. Out of habit, her thumb brushed along the side of her hand, comforting her because she knew how confusing things could be. She hummed, nodding as she finished and biting on the inside of her cheek before she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose again. “You’re — an incredibly intelligent girl, Dallas. That’s a fact. But you’re thinking with your head,” she tapped her own temple before she gave her a gentle smile, “You’re not listening to everything else that your body is telling you. Trust me, I’ve been in a — kinda similar situation to yours. You’ve gotta stop thinking logically and just — feel.” It sounded so much cheesier than she ever expected it to. She reached over, curling one of her fingers under her chin and tipping her head back so she could lock eyes with the brunette. “Question for you, how do you think you’d feel if — hypothetically, you were Tristan’s first kiss? Do you think you’d still feel weird about him having his first kiss? And did you have that same reaction when you found out your friends had a grand ‘ol kissfest at Waltfest?”

Dallas smiled humbly at the compliment, but was promptly confused by what Charlie said afterwards. She wasn't dumb, she connected that Charlie was likely referring to her situation with Wes, best-friends-turned-lovers, but thinking with her head made suggestions like 'stop thinking logically and just feel' sound downright impossible. She didn't even know what to say to that, now that not one but two people had suggested that her feelings in this scenario were linked to a possibility of herself kissing Tristan. She was grateful for the eye contact, or else Dallas might have gotten too lost in her own head about how likely versus unlikely these scenarios were. Her stomach flipped again at the mention of kissing Tristan and she wasn't sure what her face was doing, and her feelings were like the inside of her necklace drawer, all tangled in a giant mass beyond the point of being useful. "Darcy said that too," she blurted. "That I should just kiss him. But I don't think that would have fixed anything. Just because seeing someone else kiss him made me want to kick a hole through a wall and just because I was the most relieved that he hadn't kissed someone during Waltfest without telling me doesn't mean that I want to kiss him. Because if I wanted to, that would mean.... I don't even know what that would mean! I don't know what it would mean to me, what it would mean to him - he was able to get over Baby kissing him so fast, and people like Darcy and Victory can kiss and not talk about it, but I don't think it'd be so easy for me to just shake it off and what if I forced him to talk about it and he didn't like it? I can't lose him, Charlie, I really can't, I feel and think and just am better when he's around, he's the best person I know." Her eyes had gotten somewhat teary the more panicky her voice got and it was surprising - Dallas was far too calculated to break down like this, talking about her feelings, and she took in several deep breaths before putting on some more composure. "Sorry," she apologized, letting out a sigh and calming down a little. "Was that a satisfactory answer?"

Charlie eyebrows rose when the girl began to ramble, her eyes stabbing her face and feeling her heart just ache when she saw the tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Ignoring her instinct to wrinkle her nose at the mention of Victory and Darcy, the blonde shifted toward her and she wrapped her arms around her — pulling the brunette into an embrace and beginning to shush her — her fingers smoothing down her dark locks. She rested her cheek on the top of her head, knocking the glasses on her face crooked but at that point it didn’t matter. She let out a soft breath of air, shrugging and resting her chin on the top of her head. “Hey, If you two are as close as you say you are, nothing is gonna come between the two of you. ‘Specially not some silly ‘ol kiss,” she drawled, her fingers brushing against her arm in a hopefully comforting manner, “I’m not sayin’ that you should go and plant one on him, but maybe take some time and figure out just how you’re feelin’ . And if you need someone to talk to, I literally sleep in the room next to yours.” She gave her a gentle squeeze and she lifted her head to look down at the small brunette, giving her a soft smile. “You’re young. You’ve got plenty of time to figure out all of the mumbo-jumbo type of stuff you’re feelin’ right now. It took me a whole month to figure out how I felt about Wes, at least you’re not dating someone else.” It was a joke, and she even let out a soft laugh. “Feelings are terrifying, especially if it involves someone you’re close to. But it could lead you to the most amazing experience of your life.” She offered her another smile. Charlie didn’t know if it was helping or if it was just making things worse. She by far wasn’t the love expert, but she hoped that it was kind of helping.

Dallas felt her eyes get even more watery at being hugged, but she appreciated it so much. Dallas had never had a mom, but when she was little and cried over people not liking her, sometimes her dad had held her just like this. She hadn't had to be held in a long time and she didn't completely understand why it was needed now, but it was absolutely necessary. "Thank you," she breathed quietly, squeezing her eyes shut to will away the last of the water. "Thank you, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I'm...like this. Figuring out how I'm feeling sounds impossible," she admitted with a little laugh, a little miffed at herself for contradicting what was probably really good advice. Her pulse quickened at the phrase 'most amazing experience of your life' - she'd known she wanted Tristan around for her entire life, but this new degree to that was overwhelming. "How did you know?" she asked quietly. "I mean, how did you know you didn't just loveWes, but that you were in love with him? How did you know that everything you were feeling wasn't just because everyone says friends are supposed to get together and that if you did it wrong you risked losing him and losing your best friend and - just, how did you know?" she finished lamely and curiously. "That it was worth it?"

Charlie‘s arms tightened around her, shaking her head and giving her a smile. “Hey! You’re talking to the biggest cryer here at Walt. You don’t gotta apologize,” she stated with a wide smile, shaking her head, “It’s better to let it out then to keep it all bottled in.” Something she so desperately needed to learn. “Don’t apolgize about being upset or feeling anything. It’s okay to feel stuff. You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay.” She nodded, pushing her own glasses up the bridge of her nose once more. “You don’t have to figure it out now. You have time. Just don’t let how you’re feeling get in the way of spending time with your friend.” She paused at her question, her eyebrows pressing together as she thought about it because she never really thought about it. Hell, she wasn’t even the first one to say I love you, he was. She puffed out her cheeks and as she really thought about it, shifting slightly. “I’m not gonna lie — the way we got together wasn’t very,” she cleared her throat and felt her face heat up just slightly, “ wholesome, but the next morning when he left — I wanted him to still be around. And I want him to always be around. And I guess — part of me always kinda just knew. It just took the rest of my parts to catch up.” She looked at her and gave her a smile. “It’s scary. It’s absolutely terrifying, and I’m not gonna say that it’s easy, because it’s not. But taking that leap, risking our friendship, it’s completely worth it. I’m happier than I ever have been.” She gave her a gentle nudge, pushing her glasses up her nose once more. “You deserve to be happy, too. And not cooped up in your room watching television. So, how about you get dressed and I’ll take you out for some hot cocoa. Or if you wanna stay in, I’ll order us a pizza and we can hang out.”

Dallas had to smile at Charlie calling herself the biggest cryer in Walt. She resisted the urge to suggest that they'd probably have to run a few polls to find out if that was officially her position, choosing instead to try to listen to what she was saying. She felt almost embarrassed about apologizing for her feelings, but it was so instinctive and so normal to do so. Dallas wasn't big on feeling. She was a thinker, first and foremost - feelings were a wholly other beast. She nodded at the idea of not letting it keep her from Tristan, though; she'd already put him on the backburner too much, she needed to see him again. And maybe seeing him would help some feelings make sense, who knew? "I have so many questions about which part of you knew first," Dallas half-joked with a smile, "but that makes sense, almost. Sort of." She felt validated in the statement that this really wasn't that easy - people made her feel sometimes like she should just be better at knowing, but there was so much noise in her head and all throughout her body that figuring out what to listen to was a challenge sometime. She reached out and hugged Charlie hard at the suggestion for going out for cocoa. "That sounds so nice, thank you," she sighed before pulling back and looking at the blonde. "But do you want to tell me your thing before we go?" she asked, recalling a certain deal that had been made earlier.

Charlie couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “That’s definitely something I’m not willing to discuss,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose slightly before she nodded, “As long as it kinda makes sense, that’s all that matters. And you know where I sleep, so if you need anything — just knock. Don’t just barge in like my sister likes to do.” Her eyebrows shot up when she was pulled in for another hug, smiling and hugging the other girl back. “Cocoa is the best remedy for anything,” she stated with a nod, before she puffed out her cheeks. She had hoped that she’d forgotten. That she wouldn’t have to confess anything to the other girl, and that they could’ve just gotten their cocoa and forgot about their little deal. She let out a soft breath of air, pushing her hair behind her ear and she leaned back against the wall, trying to figure out any way to weasel her way out of it. Finally, the blonde let out a sigh. “Only two people know about it, so feel lucky,” she shifted and she stared up at the ceiling, not believing she was actually going to say this, “I found out who my father is when Grease happened — eight or nine months ago.”

Dallas nodded, taking a mental note of the boundary. She didn't want to push past anything and ruin this rapport that actually did make her feel supported. "I would never," Dallas promised, having never been a barger; she wondered vaguely how Tia and Charlie were so different, and decided that her brain questioning random things for no reason was a good sign. Dallas bit her lip, fighting the urge to say that Charlie didn't have to tell her anything if she didn't want to. Her help had been more than enough for now, but the curiosity was too strong, especially when Charlie said that only two people knew. She found herself leaning in a little bit, waiting for Charlie to speak - and she never could've guessed what she'd say. "Your father? That's big news!" she congratulated, having the best relationship with her own father. But the way Charlie wasn't eager to share the news and the fact that it'd been almost nine months ago and only two people knew didn't add up. "Are you glad to know? Or...what happened?" she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

Charlie smiled and she nodded. “Thanks, that’s all I ask.” There had been too many close calls with Tia barging into her room. While she was changing, while she was with Wes. With her sister it was one thing, she’d made it her goal to disgust her at some point and it was her fault if she saw stuff she didn’t want to. But she hadn’t wanted to scar Dallas. Or anyone else for that matter. She puffed out her cheeks and she nodded, feeling her chest tighten and watching as he cat slowly moved so he was on her lap. She slowly shook her head, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “My whole life — I’ve wanted to know who my dad was. My mom talked him up, big time. Maybe so I wouldn’t be disappointed or maybe because she seems to see the good in everyone. But I found out he’s — he’s a terrible man and everything I’d thought about him is completely gone,” she stated, scratching Stanley under his chin and feeling her own tears beginning to pool in her eyes. She inhaled sharply, reaching up at wiping at her eyes. “And now I’ve got four other siblings that — well, three of them don’t know. And I don’t know if I should tell them or just let it be.” Maybe being vague wouldn’t tell her who she was talking about.

Dallas watched Charlie closely, feeling like an inattentive roommate and observer for not having noticed Charlie was carrying this weight. Sure, they kept mainly to themselves and the other girl had seemed tense but Dallas assumed it was because she was shy or stressed or both. Not because she was sad. She reached out a free hand to take Charlie's hand as she spoke, knowing there was some real pain behind her words. "I'm sorry. I know that when things aren't the way you expected to be, or hoped that they'd be, its the worst. Especially something you've believed so long and that's so personal. Have you talked to him, maybe? Maybe talking would help, either with acceptance or closure or a change of heart or... I don't know, I'm sorry, I know it's a lot. And as for the sibling thing, I think you should tell them. You said one already knows? Its only a matter of time before the others find out too and I bet they'd rather hear it from you. And maybe meeting them and talking to them will make you feel better too. I'm sure you'll have stuff in common, for starters the fact that just because you have an apparently terrible father doesn't mean that any of you are terrible people. You'll find the good in each other, and in yourselves. Growing up with a ton of cousins was the best thing that ever happened to me. There's something special about family, Charlie. And maybe you'll find more people to put your hopes into, people that won't let you down."

Charlie sighed, looking over at the girl when she took her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. She listened to her, before she snorted immediately at her suggestion. “Talk to my sperm doner? That’d be the worst idea, because I’m sure I’d end up punching him in the face at some point. Everything I’ve heard about him is awful, and he deserves any ounce of pain he gets.” Charlie had never been the kind of person to talk things out — especially when it came to someone as shitty as Gaston was. He’d wanted nothing to do with her, and the kids he did have he treated like shit. If she tried to talk to him, she’d probably do things that she’d never had to do to someone — but sometimes really wanted to. She hadn’t realized how tight her grip on her hand had gotten, and she swallowed slightly, pushing her hair behind her ear and releasing her grip on the other girl’s hand. “How am I supposed to bring it up to them?” She asked, shaking her head before she pulled her fingers through her golden locks, letting out a soft breath of air. It had just kinda come out to Gus — because she’d been dealing with her boy drama and everything else that everything just came out as word vomit. She looked at her once more, letting her eyes skim along her face before she gave her a smile. “Okay, so, how about we make another deal?” she held out her pinky and gave her a smile, “If you talk to Tristan about how you’re feeling, then I’ll go tell my other siblings that they get to add another blonde to the pack?”

Dallas raised her brows at the hostility in Charlie's voice when it came to her biological father, but she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. Some people weren't lucky enough to have a good father - her own best friend had a horrible one, after all, it wasn't a foreign concept. And judging by Charlie's tenseness in her hand and face, her dad must have been comparable. "I don't know. I've never had to tell someone I was their sibling before," Dallas smiled sadly. "But I think they deserve to know and that you deserve to have them. Maybe just....I don't know. I'd probably do research on the person, find out what they liked, and use that knowledge to plan time around them," she confessed, "but there has to be something more organic than that." She perked up at the mention of another deal, but her blood ran cold at the prospect of telling Tristan anything she'd just told Charlie. What if she weirded him out to the point where being around her was hard? Or what if - her brain started racing, but she swallowed and nodded, holding out her own pinky as a promise. "Okay. I'm in," she breathed, knowing that Charlie's conversation was more important than hers to be had but that neither would be easy. It was kind of nice, doing it as a tit for tat situation. "Now, hot cocoa?" she asked with a laugh, shaking pinkies and sealing the deal.

Charlie let out a soft laugh when the brunette answered her rhetorical question, nodding before she pushed her hair behind her ear. “It’s not easy.” She looked over at her and she chewed on the inside of her cheek, listening before another sigh fell past her lips. Research. Tristan would’ve been easy. She could just ask Dallas, but she’d been dealing with her own drama. She just happened to know a lot of juniors. Maybe it was good if she asked someone else. “Got it, thanks. That’s — actually a really good idea.” She was honestly surprised that the brunette had agreed to it, which meant that she couldn’t back out of it, or pretend that she’d done it. Telling everyone else about her father was nerve wracking — and god she didn’t know why she’s even agree to it. She didn’t know how Tia would react to the news — not pleasant, maybe. She smiled and she nodded, pushing herself up and tugging on her sweater before she held her hand out for her. “Yep, definitely. Make sure you bundle up, it’s gonna be cold.”

Dallas nodded, agreeing with that. It definitely wouldn't be easy but life was about not-easy situations sometimes. And it was maybe a teensy bit easier knowing other people were going through hard situations too. Now that she'd gone through talking about everything, Dallas felt a little silly, like she was blowing a funny situation out of proportion, but it had hit her harder for a reason and she'd figure it out, just like Charlie would figure out her thing. Taking the hand, Dallas got herself off the bed and nodded. "Thank you again," she said, smiling faintly at Charlie's mom mode while grabbing a sweater and a breath.

[queenkaramel]

Across Time :: Chapter Seven

@juliakaze this is my favorite aesthetic she created!!! 

Posted On: AO3 & FFN

MasterList

YEAR 1982

LOCATION: FLORIDA 

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The clock behind the counter mocked Kara, as the quiet sounds of the contraption echoed in her ears. This wasn’t how she expected to spend her Friday evening, let alone Christmas Eve. Kara had become fond of this holiday, but staring at the pasty off-white wall wasn’t exactly the best way to spend it – there were a million other ways she could have celebrated the night but her stubbornness had resulted in her sitting in a dingy booth in a small diner.

Christmas was a religious holiday on this world, about the birth of the son of God. Friends and families gathered together to celebrate the anniversary of his birth, and spread cheer and joy, and give each other presents. Kara knew better though, having lived on this planet for more than two centuries, that the gifts, parties, and other unique attributes associated with Christmas nowadays was an afterthought, conjured up by people wanting to make money off the season of festivities. Kara occasionally took part in the holiday, though not for any religious reasons. Rather, she gave gifts to her co-workers, and friends she had made throughout the years, and sometimes even drank and partied like any other red-blooded American during the festive season.

Currently, she was on quest to re-start her life. She had lived in Seattle for almost twelve years and she couldn’t keep the charade of having an amazing skin regiment, or genetics to the fact that she never aged. It was once again the time to restart her life, and her new destination was Florida for more than one reason. But now she was discovering reason that she didn’t even know about.

Rao always has a plan, a voice echoed in her mind.

A plan? If this was Rao’s plan it must have been the most convoluted, messy, and disastrous plan he had ever concocted. Otherwise, why would she sitting in a diner – alone – with a cup of coffee that was turning cold by the second, listening to the infuriating sound of time passing as she watched Mon-El walk around and serve customers with a stupid fucking smile while he refused to give her a second look!

The entire diner was almost empty, but Mon-El still refused to talk to her, let alone look at her. He was happily serving the only other customer in the diner while skillfully avoiding her. He would walk past her booth occasionally to refill her cup of coffee, but wouldn’t say a goddamn word. And if he wasn’t going to say anything, she wasn’t going to either. Two can play at this game!

Kara had been sitting in this booth since noon, and it was almost nearing midnight. Other customers, and even some of the staff had given her questioning looks throughout the day, but once she saw Mon-El she had made up her mind that she wasn’t going to leave this establishment without giving him a piece of her mind. What she hadn’t been expecting was him being a stubborn fool and refusing to even interact with her. Kara was half tempted to leave, but she already committed to this task, and was going to see it through.

“You stupid bastard,” she murmured under her breath, and for the first time this entire day Mon-El actually looked at her. Annoyance and anger pulsed out of his eyes, and his glare intensified. Good. She was glad he heard her, “you know it’s true,” she whispered again while holding his gaze.

Mon-El composed his face again and started talking to the last customer in the diner.

“How was your meal Winn?” she picked up their conversation through her enhanced hearing.

“Wonderful as always Mike!” her eyebrows perked up. Was it Mike now? “Although I am still looking forward to those crepes you promised me!”

Mon-El laughed, and Kara began to seethe in her booth. He was happy without her, how dare he?

“When Megan lets me in the kitchen again, I will definitely make you those crepes.” He can cook now?

“Well, I best be heading home. Lena had to work the late shift tonight so she could get Christmas Day off. And we have to go to her house for Christmas morning. More snide comments from Lilian and Lex. And us working overtime doesn’t work well the family. They don’t see the beauty of the Challenger yet, they just expect another failed mission. You should be happy you don’t have in-laws yet.”

“Don’t worry Winn, they might not see it, but I definitely do. And so does the rest of the world.”

”Ya…ya Mike. I don’t need another Space the final frontier speech from you.”

“Well, you will keep getting it until you begin to believe you.”

“Trust me, Lena and I see it. It’s just the rest of Luthors that are a problem. See you tomorrow night?”

“Of course!”

“Make sure you bring some Christmas cheer! And tell Megan to not make the dipping sauce spicy again…only Jon can handle that spice.”

“No guarantees Winn. Good night…and Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.”

She saw Winn slam some money down on the counter, and pick up his coat and head off. He had friends, and he had life here in Florida. A life without her. Granted, she had a life without him in Seattle, and in Rio, and in New Zealand…. but seeing that he moved on as well hurt a lot more than she thought.

With no left in the diner besides Mon-El and one other server, he had to talk to her, even if it was ‘We are closing soon, you need to leave’.

But the minutes went by and nothing happened…. He swept the floors, bused the tables, wiped the counters all while whistling a tune that Kara had never heard of. Listening to the clock tick was bad – but this unknown tune was literally setting her ears on fire.

“Hey Mike!” another server came out the back room, “It’s pretty dead tonight, and it’s Christmas Eve, I don’t think the diner needs the both of us. I’ll finish up cleaning, and maybe even close early. Why don’t you head out?”

“Megan, it’s no trouble at all,” huh, so this was Megan, “I don’t mind staying…”

“Mike, I’m being serious. It’s literally dead. Just go home,” she playfully slapped a towel at him. And tried to shoo him away with her hands.

“Well in that case. Why don’t you go home, and spend Christmas Eve with Jon and the rug rats and I’ll close up shop,” his eyes snapped to Kara for a brief second, “and I’ll maybe shut down the place an hour early or so…?”

“Mike, I can’t –”

“You can, and you will!”

After some very good insistence on Mon-El’s part, Megan finally relented and gathered her stuff and left. But not without telling Mon-El how exactly too close up the diner: make sure the dishes are clean, the open sign is turned off, and the meat is placed out to defrost, and so on. It certainly gave off the impression that Megan was the owner of the diner, based off the way she fretted over it. Mon-El finally placated her, claiming he has closed the diner many times and she had no reason to worry. And now that Megan was gone, Kara was sure they were the only ones left in the entire establishment.

“Oh shit, I forgot to tell her about the dipping sauce,” Mon-El bemoaned, “Winn’s going to have a fit.”

“It’s not the only thing you forgot,” she hissed at him. Not even bothering to whisper, they were the only ones left, who cared?

“Do you have something to say?” he shot back.

“Me, have something to say?” she said incredulously, “What-ever made you think that I do? Was if me sitting in this diner for fucking twelve hours your first clue? If not, you Daxamites must be really daft!”

Mon-El crossed the room towards her in a rage, ready to give her a piece of her mind. He was pointing an accusatory finger at her and his body was visibly shaking, and Kara could practically feel the pure fury that he was emitting off of him. Finally, she thought. But no words were spoken again. His jaw clenched down, and he pushed his accusing finger back into his fist, “Not worth it,” he gritted and turned to walk away.

Now it was Kara’s turn to be irritated. Not worth it? What the hell was that supposed to mean? All of her pent up irritation finally came bursting out, and she chucked her completely filled coffee mug in his direction, missing him and hitting the counter in front of him.

“What. The. Hell. Is. Your. Problem!” Mon-El clenched his fists tighter, and Kara could his arm muscles ripple and strain due to the additional tension he was exerting.

“My. Problem. Is. You.” she responded in kind.

“Right. I’m the problem. Just doing my job, and I’m the problem. Whatever helps you sleep better at night, Kryptonian,” his words cut her deep, reminding her of the day they crashed landed. Whatever helps you sleep better at night, Kryptonian? It was like they were the old Kara and Mon-El back in 1754. Strangers. Enemies. Not the ones who had spent 150 years together building a strong friendship that Kara hoped would lead to more one day. Well, it was so close to leading to something more. That ‘something more’ was almost in her grasp, it was so close and she still let it slip away. And now? All the progress, all the memories they had created together were slowly disappearing in front of her.

Mon-El began cleaning the glass shards of her coffee cup from the counter and the floor, “Why are you even here?”

How was she supposed to answer that? She felt like the biggest idiot right now. Twelve hours she had spent in this diner and she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to say to him. So she did the only thing she could when people are losing an argument, “Why are you here?” she mocked him.

He chuckled. He actually chuckled. But it wasn’t the laughter she was used to hearing, laughter that was usually jovial, sweet, and warmed her heart. It was a cruel laughter, and she felt ridiculed by it, “Why am I at the place I fucking work at?” Her eyes bulged, in all her time of being with him she had never once heard him curse out loud, “Are being serious right now Kara?”

She was too stunned to say anything. Oh Rao, where did it go all wrong?

“But you? You come into this diner, you see me working here and you sit your pretty little ass down in a booth for twelve hours. So it seems to me you have something to say more than I do, so why don’t you spit it out already and leave?”

“I don’t take orders from you,” she sneered. How dare he speak to her that way? This wasn’t the Mon-El she knew, not the kind and gentle one that literally treated her like the apple of his eyes. But things change, right? And Mon-El definitely did.

“Well then, why don’t you sit down in that booth and let me finish my work if you have nothing to say?”

Kara huffed, she had cornered herself into a sticky situation. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. Her stupid ego had gotten her into this mess, and now there was no way out. She picked her poison and sat down in the booth and watched him continue to clean and re-arrange the lobby by stacking the chairs on top of each other. All the while, Kara thought about her new game plan. The clock ringing in her ears once more.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The more she thought about how she could attack him, the more befuddled by the situation she became. She hadn’t even given it a second thought as to why Mon-El was working in a diner. He was held two military positions before, was a sea captain, an ambassador, an engineer, and a stupid journalist…and now his new line of work was a bus boy server at a dingy diner? That made no sense. Kara wondered if she should shelve her anger for just a moment so she could ask him why? And how?

No. No, she couldn’t flatter. She came in here with a mission, and she was going to fulfil it. Maybe she could use his new found profession to rouse him, and maybe she will finally elicit the response she craved form him. Finally she could shout at him till her was heart was content. She didn’t want a one-sided argument where he could just take the insults she threw at him. No, she wanted him to try defend himself, she wanted him aggravated so when she delivered the final blow it would bring her satisfaction, and he would run away to lick his wounds while she could finally be free from what happened thirty years ago.

“So how is it working at this fine establishment?” her voice filled with malice, hoping he would respond and be caught in her trap and she could attack him like a rabid lioness, with accusations, and declarations and make him feel guilty about his actions.

“It pays the bills,” he responded simply, showing no hint of falling in her trap. Crap, she needed to find another way.

“And this is the line of work you picked? What happened to the brilliant mechanical engineering that was my one and only hope for getting off this planet?” she wanted to get under his skin, she wanted to provoke him. Just take the bait dammit!

But he kept continuing with his ministrations. He moved to turn off the neon red OPEN sign by the entrance, and then walked towards the cash register. Kara followed his movements with narrowed eyes, waiting for his response.

“Like I said, it plays the bills,” he said after a full two minutes. Mon-El was mulling over whether he should engage her or not. He picked the latter, and choose to repeat his previous answer.

Kara grumbled. But then she picked up on his murmuring – apparently he couldn’t hold his anger back either and the words flowed out his mouth and to Kara’s ear, “Thought she would be smart enough to know why…”

This was such a childish way to fight, words exchanged in hushed tones, each one trying to get the last word in, and trying to bait each other into a fight.

“Smart enough,” she stomped her away to the register. He would have known that she would pick up on whatever he said with her enhanced hearing so he clearly wanted her to respond, “What does that me?!”

“I think you know. Or at least the Kryptonian in you should know, right? Why don’t you sit down and give it another thought, huh? Maybe you might be able to figure out why I am working in the diner in the middle of Cape Canaveral Florida!?”

Fucking shit! The entire time she was trying to get him to take the bait, and here she was taking his bait. It had completely blown up in face and she hadn’t realized it until it was too late. But the argument had finally started, and at least that was a win.

“So why don’t you explain it to me huh? Since I am so dumb, stupid and too much of an idiot to understand,” her body was shaking with rage, and she was just waiting for the right moment to unleash it on him. But this wasn’t the right time, she needed to hold in a little while longer.

Mon-El slammed the cash register drawer shut, “Kara I know this isn’t what you want to talk about. So can you stop beating around the goddamn bush and get to the point, so I can get on with my life. You know, if that’s possible for you….”

“No! You started it, so why don’t you tell me what I don’t understand right now. Clearly I can’t understand it myself, so why don’t you help me?”

Kara knew that how immature this fight was getting. It reminded her of the arguments she and her cousin Kal would frequently get into, where they would shout anything and everything at each other until something finally stuck. And once something stuck, neither of them would move on until the argument got bigger and bigger and root of their problems was uncovered.

“Kara, I don’t have time for this,” he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Clearly, Mon-El was more evolved than Kara and her cousin were. Whereas they loved to egg on the fight, Mon-El was trying to diffuse it.

“You were the one to call me stupid, so don’t start something you can’t finish,” and then Kara murmured, “Although it seems to be a wonderful habit of yours.”

Again, with the words muttered under their breaths.

“Cape Canaveral, Florida, Kara? Where the goddamn Challenger is supposed to launch at the Kennedy Space Center. Ring any bells? This ‘brilliant mechanical engineering that was my one and only hope for getting off this planet’ is trying to keep his ears opens to learn how far these humans have progressed. And this ‘dingy diner’ is a lovely hangout for those scientists, and I even made friends with a couple of them. So now that you know why I lowered my standards and became a fucking server could you please leave? And the next time you see, I would appreciate it if you just walked in the other direction.”

Kara cowered away. She was an idiot. The reason she had picked Florida as her new location was because it was slowly becoming a hub for space exploration, and the second challenger was due for takeoff next month. That was the reason, well primary, reason why she had decided to settle in Florida. And if she hadn’t let her ego get in the way, she would have known that Mon-El was thinking the same. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassed.

“Oh, and don’t worry. Once I get the right technology to fix our motherboards, I’ll find you. Cause unlike you, I like to keep my promises,” he remarked snidely.

All the embarrassment and humiliation she had felt a moment ago had vanished. His steel-gray eyes cut her like shards. The allegation that she wanted to make, the allegation that she was trying to build up to, he had said them. But what standing did he even have to say that? What promises did she even break? It was Mon-El who did the breaking, not her.

The rage built up in her again, “I don’t keep my promises? You’re the one to talk. You’re the one who broke his promise. Don’t try to make yourself the victim, when you really are the villain,” she seethed.

“Me? Me?” he asked shocked, “I kept my promise Kara. But you were too busy making money and getting fame to keep yours. Now I know what matters to you. Fame and fortune, so don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your path. ”

“What the hell does that mean!?” she yelled. Mon-El wasn’t even making sense. It was like he was trying to manipulate the entire conversation to his side, but she wasn’t going to allow that, “You’re the one you didn’t come back! You’re the one didn’t come back to me! You’re the one you didn’t keep your promise! I waited. For Rao’s sake, I waited for two years! Every day after the war ended I waited for you to come through those door. I waited to see again. I waited for your touch again. I WAITED! And you never came….for two years. I felt like an idiot, the most gullible naïve girl in the universe. You used me, and you never came back. And now, after all these years I can finally tell you how much you hurt me, how long it took for me to move on, and how there is this dulling pain in my heart, and you’re standing there saying was all my fault? How dare you!?”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“You really know how to paint yourself as a victim Kara. Bravo,” he clapped his hands, insulting her even further, “I never fulfilled my promise? The moment I got off that ship, the moment I came back to the States, I went to that small little club in the North Carolina port to see you. To hold you, to touch you, to kiss you again,” Kara’s breathe hitched, “To keep my promise. After months of not seeing you, after months of dreaming about you, I went back to the club to see that you weren’t even there Kara. You left. You were gone. So I thought, maybe you went to work somewhere else in town, maybe you found another job? Letters get lost in the war so many times, maybe I missed the one telling of your new profession. So like a fool I searched the entire city for you. I mean, how hard could it be to find a Kara Danvers. It was a unique enough name, right? For months I looked, and I came up empty handed. And then years later I heard of this beauty in New York City that was headlining for a popular club, and she had the most wonderful voice in the world, and her name was Kira Dixon. I didn’t even know that it was you until I saw your photo Kara! You had found money and fame and forgot me.”

Kira Dixon. She had forgotten that when was ‘discovered’ in the small club in North Carolina, they had told her to ditch Kara Danvers for a different, stage appropriate name, and Kira Dixon was born. But if that was Mon-El’s explanation of the events, then he had lied to her. And once again was trying to manipulate the events in his favor.

“Don’t lie to me, Mon-El,” he was adding insult to injury. Taking pride in rubbing salt in her open wounds, and he thought she wouldn’t notice, “If you had really gone to the club we wouldn’t have been in this position.”

“Kara. I’m telling you the truth. And if you can’t handle your mistakes, I’m not here to coddle you. I don’t even know why you are even here? You left me, so why do even care anymore?”

“NO YOU DIDN’T! I didn’t leave you, YOU LEFT ME! If you had do gone to the club, like you claim you did, you would have found me!?”

“YOU WEREN’T THERE KARA! HOW WOULD I HAVE FOUND YOU?”

“I LEFT YOU A LETTER!”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“I left you a letter,” she whispered as the burden of her feelings that she had been carrying over the last thirty years tipped over, “I knew letters got lost in the mail. Sometimes you would respond to every third letter I sent you. I would go months without hearing a response and I didn’t want to risk telling you about my new job for it to only get lost in midst of the war. So I told the owner that when a Michael Matthews stops by, to give you the letter telling you where I was so you could find me again. But you never did, Mon-El,” her heart was shattering, and the dulling pain began to pulse red hot over her skin, and it felt like pins and needles all over. It had taken her years to glue herself back together, and now it was taking just minutes for her too fall apart again, “but you never did.”

“I never got a letter….”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Kara couldn’t breathe. I never got a letter. He never got a letter. He was lying again, he had to be lying again. No. No. No. His steel blue eyes looked softer now, his face less strained and his demeanor shifted to look like a defeated man: shoulder dropped, and head down. No. No. No. He was lying again. Lying. But his voice held such sincerity, and the change of his behavior told a different story. He wasn’t lying, he wasn’t the vile man she had painted him to be for thirty years. Her heart didn’t ache, she hadn’t felt so lost and broken because he had left her – no – it was because of lack of communicate. A small little mistake that had cost them both more than she could have imagined. It had cost them a life together.

All that hurt, rage, and pain that she had held onto for all these years, all of which fueled her to confront Mon-El, all of which gave her the courage to speak to him again, so she could finally lay it to rest felt so inconsequential, and disconcerting. She had nothing more to say. She had no more cards to play, no she didn’t even have a hand to begin with.

She had sat down in this diner holding onto something that wasn’t even real, and she lashed out at him. She had started it, she had accused him, she had ruined what they had. What was left now? At this moment, she wished the earth would open and swallow her whole because those soft steel blue eyes that help such contempt for were now melting, but she couldn’t face it. Not after humiliating herself like this. So she did the only she could think of, she turned to walk away.

She heard Mon-El shuffle behind her, “KARA WAIT,” his voice the most kind it had been all night. Definitely not pleasant, but there was no animosity, “don’t go.”

Kara gripped the handle of the door tightly, thinking whether she should stop and hash things out and fix what was broken. Oh Rao, she really wanted to fix everything.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

She opened the door and walked out, ignoring Mon-El calling after her.

Her heart was screaming at her to turn around and walk back through that door. It was tugging, pulling at her, but her mind wouldn’t listen. After that entire debacle it was ashamed, mortified and she didn’t have the courage to turn around and face him. The anger she had held onto for thirty years taunted her now. She had acted like a fool, duped by her own emotions. So she continued walking, and after she was clear of that one yellow car in the parking lot, the tears began to pool out of her eyes and she super sped away, without even looking back.

She tried to zone in her ears to listen into what Mon-El was saying – if he was saying anything — in the diner but all her ears could focus on was the rackety clock that was hung being the counter on the pasty off-white wall.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

She was too afraid to listen, she lacked the bravery, the valor to face the consequences. How do you move past a thirty year old grudge, one that she instigated?

Coward, her heart yelled. Yes, she was a coward.

Hope you guys like it! As always - please ignore mistakes and an edited on will be posted on Ao3 soon

ONE CHAPTER LEFT GUYS! 

[notgonnarememberthis]

Our May

Hello! I’m so sorry for the sort of hiatus I have taken over the past two weeks. I have honest to god fallen into the most unfortunate series of bad news possible. Starting from my ex-best friend’s backstabbing to rejection letters I have not mentally been in the best place as of late. However, with the help of Em, Gwyn, Riley and a couple of irl friends I’m getting back onto my feet again. I’m hoping to have A Better Tomorrow updated soon as well but I was inspired to write a little headcannon/theory based off of the next episode’s stills and promos and basically what I hope goes down. I hope you guys enjoy. I just want to say a quick “I love you.” to Em, Gwyn, and Riley. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you guys.

Her heart thuds heavily against her chest, lungs heaving for air as she runs. She can feel them stretching a compressing against her ribs, she could feel the pounding of her own feel off of the wood, she could feel the way her throat constricted with every concentrated breath. How is this not real? How is she not real? She could feel pain incredibly spiking through her arm. The headache builds at the edges of her temples. How is that even possible with what she is? She doesn’t survive off of vital functions yet the phantom sensations of these organs torture her paralyzed mind.

“May here!” Phil dashes into the library holding the door open for her to duck underneath his arm. He shuts the door behind them grabbing a nearby flag to barricade between the handles of the door to jam it shut. “Are we the first ones here?” He asks, his hand poised and ready on the pistol strapped to his side.

“Looks like we beat them.” She smiles slightly. She shouldn’t find satisfaction in this, in defeating the Watchdogs. That’s not her sensation to feel. She’s not real.

The Watchdogs had taken one of the Koenigs hostage, trying to torture him for where he had hidden the Darkhold. What did Nadeer want with the Darkhold? Was there some sort of secret hidden in it’s pages to ride of the inhumans? The thought threw ice down her spine. These sensations bother her more and more as time passes. It shouldn’t be her here. It should be May.

Through a series of convoluted hints Coulson had tracked the Darkhold down to a library. Of course of all places a library was where it had to be hidden where anybody could stumble upon it in any given minute.

“I’ve got it.” Coulson smiles standing up straight. A brown satchel is clutched in his hands, bearing the weight of what could possibly be the world in its contents. A book much too powerful for it’s own good. Her feet carry her forwards without her consent until she is directly in front of him. Wordlessly, he opens the brown leather bag showing her for proof. Sure enough the book glared back up at her teasingly. Her body was no longer in her control as she reached out to take it.

Realization settles over her like cold ice. Fear gripping her from head to toe. This was why the Watchdogs wanted the book.

“Nadeer is working with Radcliffe.” She whispers horrified. This was her mission. She was programmed to retrieve the Darkhold for Radcliffe.

“What? How do you know?”

Because so am I. “I-” Take it away from me. “I-” You’re not safe with me.

“May what is it?”

I’m not her. “Radcliffe is building LMDs, soldiers if you may. If she gets the Darkhold for him which AIDA,” and I, “wasn’t able to do, he’ll build her an army.”

“Son of a bitch.” He whispers shaking his head. “We have to get this somewhere safe I-”

His words are cut off with a loud pounding noise. Someone is trying to break into the room. They’ve found them.

“Take it.”

“Phil-”

“I can boost you up through the window. You’re much quicker than I am anyways.” He smiles passing the satchel over to his grip. Her entire body freezes, tensing as her programming starts to whirl. Punch him and escape. That’s all she needs to do.

“No!” Melinda cries out against her programming. She can’t hurt him. She won’t hurt him. Phil looks at her startled, kind eyes sparkling with worry. She wants to lean forwards and kiss him. Anything to take that damned look off of his face. He shouldn’t be worrying about him. She’s not who she should be worried about. She would only hurt him.

“Melinda I trust you more than anyone. I need you to get out of here and destroy this.”

“I can’t.” She whispers. His fingers wind through her hair pulling her face up to meet his.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Phil please I-” A crash echoes through the room as the door is separated from it’s hinges. It’s already too late. Four heavy footsteps, about five seconds before they would be discovered at the back of the library.

One, she grips Phil by the collar taking a breath of encouragement. She just wanted to memorize every single part of his face one last time. Two, she pulls him to her, her lips colliding with his. She just had to know how they would feel before she does this. Three, his hands fall on her waist. It’s better than she ever could have imagined. More than she ever could have dreamed. Four, she pushes him away loading her gun. Five, she pushes Phil behind her as the bullets begin to spray.

She fires her shots as carefully as she’s trained. Three bullets lodge in only two skulls. Phil grips her waist tugging her backwards behind his shield sparing them the spray. It’s already too late.

The air leaves her lungs as three bullets impact with her body. Her programming is far away in her mind now. The satchel slips from her fingers as she clutches her stomach, crimson pouring onto her fingers. A small whimper leaves her lips as her body falls slump against Coulson.

“May?” He asks panicked. Her weight drags him down with her, he’s cradling her upper half in his lap now yelling desperately into the comms. “I need medical now! Agent down!” The entire ground trembles with realization of a force. Melinda can practically hear the broken cry now as Daisy wipes out all of the Watchdogs in one fair swoop.

A woosh echoes through the halls as a startled Elena stands above them.

“Let me take her.” Elena says. “I can get her there quickly.”

“No. We can’t move her. We could make things worse.”

“But sir.”

“Take the Darkhold. Run as fast as you can. Hide it.” Phil commands passing the satchel to Elena. The young woman bows her head for a minute. The whispers of a praying passing through her calm lips. May lets out a shuddered breath which transfers to another whimper. “Elena, go.”

“Yes, Sir.” With another whoosh the woman is gone once more. Phil frantically removes his jacket, pressing it to the bleeding wounds. There’s so much pain.

“I need you to stay awake for me Melinda. Just listen to my voice.” He begs. She briefly wonders if he had begged Rosalind in the same tone. Holding her as she took her last breaths.

Glass shatters around them as a figure leaps through the window dramatically.

“No.” Daisy whimpers rushing towards the two of them. She collapses on her knees on the opposite side of her, the ground beneath them shaking ever so slightly.

“Breathe Daisy.” The girl nods with tear-laden eyes. She smiles sadly combing her fingers through her hair. Melinda began to feel tired, this couldn’t be normal. She never slept anymore. She had shrugged it off as night terrors before but now…

“Keep your eyes open Lin. Help will be here soon.” She needed to tell them. They had to know it wasn’t her. May wasn’t dying. She was.

The bullets must have pierced a vital portion of her mechanics. She wasn’t built like AIDA was. She wasn’t meant to withstand these sorts of shots. Her mechanics were messy, quickly assembled. She wasn’t meant to be a shield she was meant to be a distraction. An experiment to be tested. A tool to get what they truly needed. She could feel herself beginning to shut down. She had to move quickly.

Melinda takes Daisy’s hand softly. The younger girl lets out a heartbreaking sob. She has to end this. She has to end their pain.

Melinda slides Daisy’s hand under her own shirt, guiding her fingers to the wound. The girl tries to tug her fingers away but Melinda’s strength keeps them there. She presses her fingers into the shot. The girl startles at the feeling of cold metal. A series of emotions flash in her eyes before she speaks.

“You’re not May.” She whispers. Hope, anger, devastation, fear. The last thing she sees before her vision goes dark is the anger settling over Coulson’s face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phil startles at Daisy’s words echoing through the large library.

“You’re not May.” Phil rips his jacket off of the wounds, startled and angry. His eyes trace over the wounds feeling as if his own heart were beginning to tear out of his chest. Sure enough glimpses of silver sparkled up from beneath the skin. This wasn’t his May.

“Where is she?” It’s already too late though. The figures eyes are staring unseeingly up to the rooftops. His heart catches in his throat. This is what it looked like. This was what it had looked like when May had died. “Answer me!” He shakes it angrily. How could he not have known? How could he not have known this wasn’t May?

“Coulson she’s gone.”

“We have to find her. She has to know.” Phil states panicked.

“We’ll have Fitz scan her hard drive when we get back to the base but for now, I don’t think she knows anything.”

“Why?”

“Because she looked almost scared. I don’t think she knew, not for a while that is.” Daisy sighs.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Hey. We’ll find her.” Daisy states grabbing his shoulder.

“How do we know she’s not-”

“She’s not. Knowing May she’s probably fighting like hell to get out of wherever she is right now.” Coulson pushes himself to his feet making his way quickly out of the library. “Where are you going?” She calls after him.

“I’m going to find our May.”

[isaacathom]

like, if i were to basically redo it to just be a fun fantasy romp - id take it back to its original sort of time setting rather than having it be urban fantasy. Finley died in an expedition about 10 years earlier, making Crystal and Akian into orphans. theyve basically been living with the D’Lore’s since then, so Akian and Chase being really fucking close makes complete sense (and was likely why they started living wit the d’lores in the first place). in that last decade, like 5 yearsago or so, SKye joins the family after the whole uhhhhh Sorix/Naten situation. my poor boys. so crystal and skye already know each other. they arent super close, mostly because skye’s a moody lil bitch sometimes, but they know each other and are passing friends. crystal works with the d’lore’s apothecary, since the d’lores are like, biiiiiiiig boys. mayors or some shit. big boys. not a king, tho. well, actually, maybe? that could be interesting. or perhaps like a pricipality sorta deal. ill think about it.

since the d’lores are royalty here, kidnapping Akian and Chase (the crown prince boy and his gf) makes complete sense. theyre a perfect ransom and way tohold the entire city/region hostage. its a crisis. skye and crystal, who are really pissed about it, decide to take proactive action. which brings them into contact with Violet, who runs a small library with her “aunt”, Dawn. Violet helps them find some information about some of the weird shit the two reported seeing before their sibs were kidnapped, and gives them a shit ton of advice on what they could do. because violet is the best.

smth smth happens, they come into contact with Will, who is an expedition man just like Finley, and also the guy with th complex relationship with Skye. the three manage to convince Will to take them along into his second trip into a portal he’s discovered north of the town, because violet thinks it’ll have useful info and then begs to come along to see it. sothe 4 go in. suhbitch, its the heaven realm, and here they meet Skye’s mother, Alexa, who has still been dead for 200 years because, lets be clear, Skye’s dad fucked a ghost. fucking crazy. fantasy is wild. and she helps give them some pointers. maybe suggests they head to Quartai, which is the Big Boy Kingdom. a probably more overtly magical/religious place, more info on Ryaris and shit, stuff like that.

the 4 go there. then im not sure how stuff resolves from there. they probably still end up heading to the southern isles, which is an even more Big Magic place that has all these portals. in between then, violet seems to disappear, following an(other) encounter with Princess Alara, angry wind mage of the hour. which isnt great? but thats because Violet realised something was off about Alara (in a way specific to Violet) and she went out alone after the others went to sleep to find her and demand answers, and then, well, shit escalates.

they finally get to the fire realm and find the castle. before they can sneak inside, Alara catches them and promptly kidnaps Crystal, under the rationale that, well, Crystal is actually quartaian royalty, she’ll be a good ransom as well! :) skye and will (and i guess ash if hes just floating around, i dont Know)get tossed in the jail cell with chase and akian. Violet, who has now assumed the position of Princess fucking uhhhhh she has a name. fuck. T- Tacha??? yea ok whatever. Princess Violet’s out here, trying desperately to avoid the consequences of abandoning the group and trying not to get seen by any of them. but after overhearing her mum and sister interrogating Crystal about shit (and probably revealing Crystal’s heritage at that time, tho idk how id tie that shit in proper) Violet decides to stop being a coward. easily talks her way into the jail, frees everyone, get them all their stuff back, and make arrangements with some sympathetic guards that escort the exhausted Chase and Akian to a portal that will plop them out near-ish to the capital city, where they will be quickly found. bonus points if one of the guards, being a local to the area, offers to then personally escort them to the palace and hand them over. if yes, then violet likely gives him something that is proof of divine intervention (like, a symbol that cannot be manufactured by a human? and that is proof that Ryaris was involved and has returned them, smth like that, idk)

then the three of them work together to free crystal from Alara, who is acting as the primary antagonist. Ryaris is getting cold feet like noones fucking business, which is why she hasnt made a single appearance apart from kidnapping the two at the start. Alara’s filled in the rest, in part because Alara can pass for human (shes more a demigod than a minor goddess, in contrast to Violet), and because Alara was a LOT more into the plan from the start. probably using some info they gathered in Quartai or in theheaven world (it definitely has a name, i dont remember it) to convince Alara that, well, no, Dalace is absolutely fucking lying to you, stop it. which is easier than you would think, because Dalace’s lies were revealed the instant Violet returned home.

Part of Dalace’s plan to escape from her imprisonment is to have Ryaris (and her daughter, tho that was a later addition) force a whole bunch of humans into constructing and using portals, which would weaken the seal and also give Dalace more power. then she can break out and wreak havoc. her end of the deal is that, once restored to full power and free, she would bring back Evelyn and Violet. Evelyn being Ryaris’ human wife, who died like 5-6 years prior to the start of the story, and which was actually caused by Dalace in order to force Ryaris’ hand. but that conceit was that Violet and Ryaris were both dead. But Violet is here, perfectly fine, and with 0 trace of any magical interference. Violet was been alive the entire time, just out of Ryaris’ sight and in a different place than where Alara ended up going undercover. essentially a stroke of bad luck.

so, yknow. Violet has overheard Ryaris talking to Dalace, and has already found out about the fact that her revival had been promised. so its like, ‘what proof do you have???’ ‘well, im here, arent i?’ ‘:|||||’ if its then additional that, after violet left the party, the other three found out that Dalace doesn’t have the ability to revive, and that revival as a skill would require the death of Losa (light goddess and just general death lady), they can use that too. combine forces. violet uses her knowledge of the agreement, and the others use their acquired knowledge of the limits of magic. bam. maybe even some prior history, like ‘the stories say that Dalace went mad because everything died in her care. if she could revive the dead, surely this wouldnt have been an issue?’ ‘..... fuck youre right’. i mean they almost definitely have to fight her too because Alara’s a bit of a pain in the ass. people probably almost die. hardcore.

everyone chills out, they go convince ryaris to maybe chill. thats very easy because ryaris literally just wanted to settle down with her wife and two children before shit got messy (and i mean, Same). very easy to convince her off the mess train. but, of course, she’s already done a lot of the damage. the ransom for Akian and Chase has been active for like, at LEAST a week, possibly even more, she’s already reaped a solid chunk and started making good on her promise to Dalace. so the damage has been done. Dalace will get out soon. so they decide like, ok, lets fix it. time to go like, punch her in the face.

and then they beat dalace or reseal her or something. im not sure? dalace’s issues with the world are so deeply seated, her anger so much a part of her, that you cant really turn her good again. and to kill her would be nigh impossible and extremely disastrous. so really its like. do we trap her again but More this time, do we force the gods to actually intervene this time instead of acting through Champions? its rough. a godly intervention would only work if the group had been to each of the realms, because then they’d have met or affected each god in some way. but theyve only been to light and fire worlds. any more than that and it just gets like..... convoluted...... it was the original idea but idk. smaller main cast, makes even less sense. going to the worlds of each of their patrons makes SOME sense??? which then means id need to add a trip to the earth world (perhaps this is where they go from the southern isles. since they dont have a fire portal. and then they lose violet in earht world?). which then only leaves out the water and wind worlds. but the wind goddess is explicitly on Ryaris’ side, having freed Ryaris from her own constraints after a Whole Bunch of Shenanigans. so they dont actually need to convince the wind goddess, Xen i think, to support ryaris. Caliyo, the water goddess, is a little harder to finagle. she doesnt really agree with Ryaris for what i hope are Obvious reasons. in theory keeping Ash as a member of the party would potentially fix that, since he’s an active and practicing water magician prior to meeting the cast, and it’d be fair to guess that she might have a hand in that?in the community he’s from. sort of a mini water realm? Caliyo could also possibly be convincedby like, Losa and....Elra? earth lady. to just maybe think about just fucking talking to Dalace, for fucking once. its been fucking millenia,just talk to her and maybe youll convince her to stop being a shit. idk. Dalace is complicated? and a pain in the butt.

like, if Ash remains part of the squad (which does skew the cast 2:3 male, and 1:3 male when Violet leaves, which Pisses me Off) he can act as throughline to Caliyo. i dont see why not. his community is very much magical. buuuttt you could also potentially get around having him be in the party by having the same connection be present in the Southern Isles, which is a separate magical community that hides away from the continent. and if you think about it, how would you hide an island? other than straight up illusions.mist! caliyo is a perfect patron for the southern isles, thus removing Ash from the story as well in a clean 1 2. which also removes the dragons, which is.... a shame, definitely. big fan of them. but it also makes some sense to remove super overt magic stuff, if people are supposed to believe is superstition or extremely rare. a northern tribe that rely on dragons doesnt gel with that. they can still exist, i guess, but as a completely separate entity. though that does then raise the question of how the party of 4 get from Quartai to the southern isles. in SB, they flew there on the backs of some of Ash’ dragons, which also allowed them to cross the fucking sea between the isles and the coast. unless theres a secret way? like, hey, a secret bridge. use the portals to return back to the capital city, tie up some loose ends (employment and ‘WHERE THE /FUCK/ HAVE YOU BEEN?’ sorts of ends) before heading south to the coast and then trying to find the path across. Skye or will would be good for that, though Violet is also a stellar candidate due to the sheer magnitude of her magic. she’s basically a minor deity. its crazy. it depends on like, narrative usefulness? i guess? like, violet was the one who put them on the path to realise the kidnapper was Divine in some way, and put them in contact with Will. Will got them into fucking Heaven Light World, which got them to quartai, where they were able to get more info (or maybe even skip quartai altogether, tho thats smth else to deal with). so at this stage, crystal and skye’s sole contributions have been to kick the whole thing off. at best, skye mightve suggested they go to a smaller library than the Royal one, since, well, theyre already known to the royal one and the librarian likely tells them to stop bothering everyone and go back home (stay safe from kidnappers, etc). so Skye finding the path to the island, with all that light boy goodness, might work? crystals skillset can then come in handy when they travel to earth world, since she’s an earth mage. she can learn magic and possibly even learn about her heritage there. smth smth. depends how long theyre there.

idk. you can probably remove quartai from the mix altogether??? and have them go straight from Light World to heading south of the capital. does sorta remove the quartai buildup though? with the whole ‘youre the descendant of a runaway prince’ thing. since it justified crystal being removed from the group and likely the first person to find out about violet being a god, which can then feed to like. Shit. theres no other reason to separate out crystal and not, say, Skye. crystal and skye hold identical levels of relevance to thespecific kingdom theyre from. theyre commoners. crystal is in slightly higher regard because akian is practically a princess and even before that her family were good friends with the royals (because, yknow, Finley is a runaway prince who sought refuge in a neighbouring kingdom, lol). skye is just like, some guy, even though he lives in the palace too. theyre just commoners in high esteem of the king. so like, if you were going to separate Crystal out from the group for that, you should also take out Skye, which means in practice youre just chucking Will in a dungeon on his own. which just seems rude. the boy has suffered enough.

the idea was that bringing Crystal into Quartai, a place she has never been but that her father had once promised to take her to (which i can set up). and that by placing her in that environment, maybe even engineering a scenario where she is taken to the royal library (which i guess is like, a public library run by the royals? i dont know) and is spotted by Alara, who has been living in Quartai for the last year or so to gather intel. and, by the nature of how it is, theres royal paintings on the wall showing the late queen, Crystal’s grandmother, and theres an immediate visual connection. Crystal looks just like her dad. someone else (or alara, if it works) might even comment on her being new to quartai with a sort of ‘are you sure youve never been to quartai before? you look like you’d fit right in’ and it couldbe assumed as a personality thing. especially if in terms of personality, crystal doesnt appear to mesh with quartaian society at all. and if the line is by a character with no humour. which means Alara would actually be a perfect fit. it would be a genuine question and observation - Crystal looks Quartaian, whatever that means. while in quartai, they find out its connected to the earth goddess Elra, which helps convince them that they should maybe ask Elra for advice, since she seems like a goddess who has a lot of input and would know about goings on. crystal is then revealed to be an earth mage later (either southern isles or in the earth realm itself) which is like an Ooh boy. you could possibly hammer it further home by, if they DO meet Elra, her confusing Crystal for quartaian royalty. either by assuming she’s a specific Queen (her grandmother) or just a general ‘oh, youre a princess of quartai, then?’ ‘w- no?’ ‘oh? my apologies’. though if elra is going to notice any lineage she’s going to recognize the tall white haired youngster with piercing eyes and an overwhelming magical aura is the daughter of the goddess of fire. so. might distract her?i think it would be too on the nose for Elra to straight up call her out. 

though i could definitely make Crystal not looking local a thing? because she’s not. culturally she is, but both of her parents are full blooded quartaians who fled across the border because Keiran (correctly) anticipated that him marrying a commoner wouldnt go down well. Akian and Crystal both look quartaian. but they also look nothing like Will, who is from another demographic also not native to the kingdom. but his demographic is more prevalent, like there are far larger communities of them. Akian and Crystal just look out of place. Skye technically has a sort of otherworldly quality, but thats partly because his dad fucked a ghost. i cant get over that. but he still looks local enough, because he looks like his mum! and aside from being a ghost of sorts, she was from that kingdom, just 200 years in the past. so theres been drift, and he does look slightly off relative to everyone else, but to an extent you can assume thats just an individual thing. especially since his family is unknown. Akian and Crystal’s parents are known. their apperance is familiar. and that appearance is distinctly foreign. theres no real PROBLEM with that, because theyre good friends with the royal family and have been living in or near them for their whole lives, but its notably. their specific complexion, hair colour, and eye colour? not common ‘round these parts. that sorta thing? could work??? especially if relations with quartai are sorta weird. like..... we’re cool....... but also dont move here? with the exception of Kieran, because the implication is that he’d been a lot friendlier than his mother (and his cousin) and when he comes knocking on the door going ‘listen man i just fled the country can i crash on your couch with my girlfriend for a few days’ the kings like ‘yea dude go ahead. you can explain tomorrow at breakfast. just us’ ‘thanks dude i really appreciate it’. maybe its a quartaian thing. not big fans on these guys. so they just stay in their place and dont leave much. people from this kingdom can come to quartai, sure....... you cant STAY for that long, but you can come visit.......... sure.

which, if quartai is kinda.... i guess just straight up racist??? xenophobic? one or both. if quartai is straight up racist, than crystal’s appearance as a fullblooded quartaian would be quite notable! because its like, oh, youre a local! wait, y- youre NOT a local????? what the fuck do you mean youre not a local????? from - from sp- ok. sure. alright whatever you say lady. move the fuck along then. people see this ragtag group with this one quartaian lady and assume, oh, a local with some friends from out of town. well, if thats the company they want to keep, sure. cause it looks almost correct. it almost makes sense. but then you hear her speak, in a distinctly non-quartaian accent, and its like ‘hold on a sec’ but then she’ll say some words with a quartaian twang, relating to adventure, and you have No idea how to process that. what. its wild. doesnt come across in raw text but, you know.

im sure i can roughly justify going o quartai. theyre a generally more spiritual kingdom, with prominent reverence in a specific goddess who is tied in with the geography and economy (Elra), and the royal family are supposedly her descendants on some level. theyd have more specific information about the gods, the history of their involvement in the world, some shit about Dalace (not in depth, tho, just that she took over at one point and it was a Bad time). it depends how much info they can get from light realm? i mean, they arent REALLY supposed to say much. they arent even really supposed to interact with the living. which does make you go 0>0 at Alexa. hot damn. willing to break big rules for some living dick. legendary.

i mean i feel like its better if they DO go to quartai, because it allows them to encounter Alara, who has basically bribed and conned her way into a position of power through some whack shit and has integrated into the community to get some of the Juicy Information. they can meet her in a safe environment and find that she’s weird, they can learn a bit about shit, crystal being quartaian can be emphasised in a sort of coy way (im a shit writer sooo it probably wouldnt read very coy lol) and there can even be some foreshadowing for Violet’s position as minor fire deity. since thats almost definitely what catches alara’s attention. a tall, light haired individual with burning green eyes and an implaceable aura? fascinating. but when Violet doesn’t catch any of Alara’s references (to like, the gods and shit), Alara assumes she’s mistaken and perhaps she’s just sensing a strange combined aura. its not till later in the earth realm, when they meet as protagonist vs antagonist, that she realizes no, she was right on the money the first time. because at this point in the story, the main cast have actually started using magic, and theyve already found that Violet’s use of magic is effortless. and with their magic unlocked, so to speak, violet’s aura is fucking incredible. none of the others can see it, with the possibly exception of either Will or Skye, depending which way dark/light fall re: seeing shit. but Alara is an incredibly well practiced mage and demigoddess, and she knows how to see it, and violet’s is intense. its unmistakeable. alara isnt 100% sure what if she recognizes the aura, for the simply fact that violet disappeared when they were 9 and alara hadnt learnt to see/feel aura at the time. but she thinks she knows what it means. shes confident that violet is some demigod. which god? unclear. until Violet throws a fireball at her and tells her to fuck off.

the only other possible ways for violet to be a fire demigod and NOT being the daughter of Ryaris, are for her to be the daughter of Xen (goddess of wind) OR be a distant descendant of Ryaris via her mortal parent, who is also her mother, and which might overrule the godly disciple of the godly parent. the latter is nigh impossible because Ryaris has only had two children to her knowledge, unless she blacked out during 200 years exile and accidentally boned down. she’s pretty sure she didnt, though. not that thats a topic that comes up, exactly. but ryaris only has two kids. Alara has no children, and Violet is not the right age to be the daughter of Alara’s sister. she is, however, the approximate age to BE Alara’s sister. so is sheactually, or is it cosmic coincidence that two demigods (the fire/wind twins and someone else) were born around the same time? who knows! alara has no idea. violet doesnt have a damn clue either. ita rough.

uhhh this got very lost VERY fast. uhhh tl;dr return the story to its original full fantasy setting (not urban/modern fantasy). akian is the girlfriend to the prince of a kingdom, with crystal being her sister. skye being in a weird state of being commoner but living with royalty, just like crystal. akian and the prince are kidnapped by Ryaris in order to force the kingdom into an awful ransom agreement whereby they will do a bunch of suspicious shit. crystal and skye believe they saw part of the kidnapping take place, and attempt to get information. after a bunch of the royal staff tell them to stop worrying and go home, they go find a non-royal library run by Dawn and her ‘niece’ Violet, who help them find some info. Violet, being very much in the know, hooks them up with Will, an adventurer and cartographer who is planning a visit to a portal he located north of the city. after a lot of negotiating/arguing, Will agrees to let the three of them come along, and off they go. a whole bunch of shit happens, involving a trip to neighbouring kingdom Quartai, where Crystal is treated strangely in relation to the party and they first meet Alara, posing as a foreign noble who takes an immediate interest in Violet.

more shit, they end up in some hidden magic isles south of the continent, which then leads them to the earth realm, where they seek an audience with the goddess of earth Elra, on how they can get an audience with Ryaris, goddess of fire, and most likely the kidnapper. more shit. alara appears again and they have a brief confrontation. that night, violet disappears. after failing to find her, they resolve to press onwards (leaving fucking missing persons signs all over this foreign land and even informing Elra about it). go to fire realm, get captured by Alara, who separates out Crystal in order to interrogate her about her lineage to confirm a suspicion she has that Crystal is long lost quartaian royalty (si). violet is brought in to help, much to their mutual distress, and then alara kicks violet out for just doing an awful job of forcing crystal to talk.violet then breaks everyone else out of jail, sends Akian and the prince home with some guards she trusts to take them back safely, and then they go rescue Crystal. final showdown with Alara. convince alara that Dalace, goddess of darkness, has been lying out her fucking ass the entire time and cant do anything she promised. alara reluctantly agrees to confront Ryaris about it. Ryaris admits thats all true and that she knew from the start Dalace was a lying piece of shit, but, i mean...... yknow....... your wife dies and you havent seen your daughter in over a decade........ white lies are nice. also alara was the one who got sucked in. its complicated.

then they go ‘aight time to fuck with dalace’ and then i have no idea. probably all the goddesses (who theyve met throughout the story) come and tell dalace to stop being a cunt? roll credits.