#I think this is the end of the A Lone Sword series

[cocosnows]

A Lone Sword

Chapter 3

After getting thoroughly cleaned, the two boys got dressed with the clothes the woman gave them. Dante wore a yellow t-shit and blue denim overalls that fit a little two big. Vergil chose some shorts and a blue button shirt.

“… Interesting decision…” Vergil said to Dante.

“It’s cool isn’t it?!”, Dante replied excitedly.

“Heh, if you say so”.

The two children went downstairs. Hank and Linda were waiting for them.

“Heya boys! Wow, I couldn’t even recognize you two! Was the bath ok?”

“Y-yes… it was nice… thanks”, Vergil replied to the woman.

“We made some breakfast for y’all, I thought you might be hungry”, said Linda.

Two plates of sunny side up eggs and bread were sitting on the kitchen’s table.

“Don’t be shy boys, make yourselves comfy, ‘kay?”, Linda told them.

“We need to tend to the farm so we’ll be out. You can go wherever, just don’t cause a ruckus, ya heard?”, the man warned them.

“Yes… thank you”, Vergil responded with a serious tone.

The couple went out of the house and left the two boys alone.

Dante eagerly sat down on the table and started wolfing down his meal. Vergil was just silent. He sat down quietly and barely ate his food. When Dante finished his meal, he looked at Vergil and saw his plate almost untouched. He got concerned and asked:

“Verge… what’s wrong? Not hungry? Lemme tell ya, this is reall-“

“Dante”, Vergil interrupted him.

“What happened to mom?”

Dante froze, and his expression drastically changed. After collecting his thoughts for a moment, he started telling everything.

“Some time after you ran away… mom and I went into the house… we started hearing weird sounds around the house. Suddenly, the kitchen was on fire, and somehow all upstairs was on fire too. Mom shoved me into the living room drawer and told me to hide… to escape, and to learn to be on my own… then….”

Vergil was looking at Dante expectantly, and extremely nervous. He didn’t want to hear it, as it pained him to even think about it. But he knew he had to know the truth.

“After she closed the door, she ran to the door… while screaming your name.”

Vergil gasped loudly.

“She couldn’t go out because… b-because… those… demons…”

Dante lowered his head, put his hands on his face and started crying.

Vergil was left speechless. He stood up instinctively because of the shock. Even though Dante didn’t really mentioned what the demons did to Eva, Vergil saw her body with his two eyes. He saw how ruthlessly they murdered her.

“So mother… she really… she… actually…”

He had always thought Dante was the favorite, the preferred one… the one she loved more, but by hearing this he realized… his mother… she was willing to lose her life just to save him.

This realization devastated him. Tears started streaming down his face while his mind was busy assimilating this information.

After a moment, Vergil looked at his crying twin.

“It’s… it’s all… your fault”

Dante lifted his head to look at his brother. With a tearful face and a shaky voice, he just replied a broken “Huh?”.

He raised his voice and shouted at his brother:

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT”

He threw his chair away and grabbed Dante by the collar, almost lifting him off the ground.

“If you had NEVER been such a spoiled little brat… if you had NEVER made me angry and bothered me in the first place… the demons would’ve never attacked me… AND IF— IF YOU HAD NEVER EXISTED… THEN MOM… SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE”

“Vergil… I… I didn’t… I couldn’t—“

“SHUT UP”

Vergil tightened his grip on his brother’s neck and spoke to him in a threatening voice while looking directly at his eyes.

“You’re weak, Dante… you couldn’t protect her… you couldn’t protect yourself… you’re NOTHING”

He threw Dante, making him stumble and fall on his back.

“Those are some pretty hash accusations there, son”

The voice of a man could be heard from the entrance of the kitchen.

Vergil got startled by the presence of the man and turned to look at him. “Did he hear everything we talked about?”, Vergil thought.

“I knew you boys were pretty suspicious… and sorry for bein’ nosy, but I heard everything”

“It’s none of your business”, Vergil said with a serious tone.

“No, probably not… but I couldn’t turn a blind eye to what you said to Tony… or should I say Dante?”

The man walked over to where Dante was lying, and kneeled down to help him stand up.

“C’mon boys… what happened to you… no one coulda seen that comin’. You two… must be 12 at most. I’m not sure what happened to y’all, but those demons… we have seen ‘em. This place… it’s far from town, and those things sometimes roam around the fields. We can’t be out at night… after all… they took our little Charlie from us… in fact, those are his clothes…”

The man looked at the two children fondly, and with a hint of nostalgia and sadness.

Vergil looked at the man with a frown. “This old man’s sob story doesn’t matter to me… we are different from them… from normal humans…”

The man was still kneeling down, and Dante stood up, teary eyed.

“Whatcha looking so cocky for, boy?”, he said while pointing at Vergil. “Tell me, do you think something would’ve changed if you were in your brother’s place? Do you think you could be able to change your fates?”

Vergil was about to refute that accusation, but the more he thought about the possibilities… the more he realized the truth. Without the Yamato, what could he possibly do against those monsters? This made him frown profusely and clench his fists.

“Heh, thought so.”

The man let out a soft chuckle and Vergil turned to look at him with intense eyes.

“Look, what I’m trying to tell you is that you boys shouldn’t blame yourselves for what happened. The fact that you survived was a miracle.”

“You couldn’t have seen it coming, you couldn’t do anything about it… and that is not a sin. You two… are too young to blame yourselves for somethin’ like this.”

Surprisingly, the two boys were attentively listening to him. The fact that their demonic lineage made them survive stopped them from considering the biggest truth about their position:

What could they POSSIBLY do?

Being so young… could they even do anything about it? Prepare beforehand? Every possibility was simply out of the question.

“I’ve tried to blame myself too… to blame Linda, God and the heavens for what happened to Charlie… but I finally realized that some things are just out of our control. Accidents happen, and they hit you when you least think about it.”

“So don’t blame anyone, not even yourselves, for things that you couldn’t control”

“The only thing you can do… is learn, be stronger, be braver… and cherish your loved ones every single day… that’s the most important possession you have.”

The two boys were speechless.

They were no normal humans, yes, but the powerlessness, sorrow, fear, pain… it all made them just as human as everyone else. And what made them human kept them safe. Kept them together.

Vergil realized what he said to his brother, and how wrong he was, and with a broken voice, he said:

“Dante… I’m… I’m sorry… I was wrong…it was not your fault… it was not…”

Vergil started sobbing and was unable to speak further.

Dante started crying and threw himself into Vergil to hug him. This time, Vergil reciprocated the hug.

“I’m sorry Dante… I’m sorry for everything”

“I’m sorry too Vergil… I won’t bother you anymore… I will give you your space *hic* I p-promise”

“Dante…”

Vergil tightened his hug. The two boys cried their eyes out on each other’s shoulders for some time, while the man just looked at them tenderly, shedding some tears himself.

The words of the man reached a deep fiber inside the twins’ hearts. Those simple words were what they needed to finally lift the clouds on their judgment… to get a new perspective on what happened, and pave a new way for what lies in their futures.

———————

This is the end of the mini AU… if you read this, thank you for sticking with me, I really appreciate it TT. I’m planning on writing an epilogue on this series and maybe a continuation of the AU, but with a time skip straight to the DMC 3 events. Maybe it’s not gonna be a full story with diff chapters like this, I’m thinking on short stories with events of the game adapted to the AU, so… Stay tuned! And thanks again for the support 🫶🏼

[supercutszns]

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 

Meet me tomorrow. 

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 

Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply. 

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz

rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf

leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)

[just-a-ghost00]

What your spirit guides have to say about this connection

Warning : there might be some cuss words in the words/signs/names section.

Group 1 - Drawings scattered on the floor

Tarot : 5 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, The Chariot, 8 of cups, Queen of swords, The Lovers | Oracle cards : Patience, Boundaries

When the opportunity arises, move on. Because if you stay, you're going to be disappointed. This connection won't bring you any satisfaction or happiness. It may even deepen your insecurities. No matter who this person is or how they treat you, on the long term nothing good will come of it for you. Now, the choice is yours to make. No one can force you to forget about this person and cut ties with them if you don't want to. Your spirit guides just want to warn you that it would be better for you not to dwell on this person, because there is someone better waiting for you around the corner. If this person is being disrespectful to you, it is high time you show them what you're made of. Because at the end of the day, your responsibility is to value and take care of yourself. I feel like some of you may feel lonely and long for a deep connection. So maybe this person has shown some interest in you which led you to belive that this could be your forever person, when they aren't. I'm sorry if this triggers you, because my intention isn't to hurt you but to provide useful and important information. I know how difficult it can be to cut ties with someone when we had so much hope and dreams with them. But I have no doubt you can make it through. Your guides want to reassure you on the fact that choosing yourself over this person is going to be beneficial to you. Extra information - Strength Queen of pentacles 3 of pentacles Your guides want to insist on your power and ability to overcome this situation. They know you have what it takes to resist this person and protect yourself. The spirit animal of the tiger is watching over you during this period of your life. You may call to it for advice and help. Your spirit guides also urge you to deepen your connection with them and have faith in the Universe and it's ability to provide you with exactly what you need and deserve. Letters : S O E U S W S E I C L E E G R Words/signs/names : wise, use, sue, sow, woes, sus, Susie, cues, Wess, sis, Cis, cusses, Seoul, soul, Glee, seer, Rogue, mess, Ciel, rouge (French for red), glow, cure, secure, Curie, glue, series, cries, less, lows, lower, roses, girls, Weiss, Solweig

Group 2 - Ticking clock

Tarot : 4 of cups, ace of swords, 8 of swords, 4 of wands, 8 of cups, 7 of swords Oracle cards : Get wild, Sacred sexuality rx

You and this person are currently in seperation. You feel like this person is hiding things from you or isn't comfortable speaking their mind. Many of you may be asking about a future spouse. Spirit wants to draw your attention on the fact that the more you think about this person and focus your energy on them, the more opportunities you are missing. It's like you're telling yourself "I can't be in a relationship right now, what if my future spouse comes into my life then?". You're refraining yourself from living your life, having fun, meeting new people. Your future spouse is not open to your connection currently, is what spirit is saying. Forcing the situation would only keep you apart. They are not ready. And so are you. You have other things to tend to, other experiences to live, other people to meet. Your guides advise you to draw back from this connection from a while and keep to yourself what you are doing. Your FS doesn't have to know. And it is none of their business anyway. If you keep pushing, you'll only be lying to yourself. It's important that you turn your gaze on other matters. Right now, this connection isn't beneficial to you. This isn't to say that this person is bad. This is just to say that they currently don't have anything to offer. Extra messages - 2 of pentacles, Black Numen, White Numen You are in a state of confusion regarding this connection. This is because you are currently in or about to be entering a dark night of the soul, a period of solitude and separation from this person. You won't be picking up on anything from their higher self or very little information. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Though you don't know where this path leads, you have to trust that the outcome is going to be positive, whether with or without this person. Right now, you should be focusing on your balance and navigating through the fog.

letters : L E U M T T S L T X M R L V T words/signs/names : Summer, sex, muse, exult, luxe, melt, ex, texts, test, sell, tell, mums, "trust me", serum, mute, Muller, mulet, rest, SUV, vet, "must let", lust

Group 3 - Adventurer's camera

Tarot : The emperor, 6 of cups, 7 of wands, 4 of swords, The Star, Knight of pentaclesOracle cards : The Creator, Withdraw

Spirit wants to confirm that this person is a soulmate of yours. You are destined to get closer to this person after a period of retreat. They are represented by The Emperor, The Star and The Creator. Chances are this person is an artist or a public figure like an influencer. If not, then the person you're asking about is destined to gain notoriety. They are extremely powerful. They are here to help you manifest your desired reality. But for now, a time of separation is needed. You may receive intuitive downloads from this person's higher self to guide you on your journey. Patience is the key word here. This person has a lot of passion for you. But spirit wants to remind you that their role is mainly to guide you, to light the way so that you can follow in their footsteps. They don't want you to get too caught up in what you feel for them. Because they're afraid you might forget your purpose. Extra information - Ace of swords, 7 of pentacles, The Sun By working on your inner truth, you could reach success with this person and also on a more personal level. This time of withdrawal is meant to help you with that. You may be afraid of failure regarding this connection. Know that there is no such thing as failing. You can only make the decision that is right for you. You might not see the full potential of what you have currently and may doubt this connection but your guides want to assure you that there is more to this than you can see. It'll make sense in due time.

Letters : D S U Q O E U M L M E T N C S Signs/names/words : cute, sun, son, lost, lust, muse, Noel, lune(French for moon), comet, comments, dust, moles, semen, men, quests, cloud, cold, muscle, monde (French for world), mounts, Clement, sounds, museums, ondes (French for waves), clones, cents, sold, old, soul, mess, cuss, lone, doms, demons, clues, cums, semen, told, SNS, meme, dots, "see us", SOS, cunt

[bokutoasavillain]

Hello! Could you recommend your favorite System fanfictions?

I have put this off for so long bc I have so many that I love and making a list that big seemed terrifying but I love sharing fanfics so here’s my best attempt <3

Bingqiu:

Tale Within A Tale

Rated T, It is so good!! The concept is so clever and it is such a satisfying read<33

it's you I find like a ghost in my mind

Rated M, a great identity reveal with a lot of dreamsharing

Treading Well-Worn Paths

Rated T, post-canon sqq turns into a kid and yqy and lbh look after him. I cannot tell you how I love this. The characterization, the dynamics, the identity reveal are all so perfect. Everything progresses so naturally and it is so good. The ending is a bit bittersweet and honestly it’s so fitting and just read this it’s perfect

We Are Not Wise

Rated T, in an au where cultivators draw their swords from their souls, sj takes in sy (a bit of blackmailing included). Sy and lbh are both disciples and soulmates. The focus is more on the relationship between sy and sj and it’s probably one of my favorite ways their relationship is portrayed. It is heavier on the angst and I was crying. It is so beautiful <33

The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known

Rated T, such a sweet and lighthearted post-canon truth spell fic <33

side effects may include indefinite photosensitivity

This is a three part series taking place post-canon. It’s about relationship development and also character development bc these two are so so young and have so much time to still grow. It is so sweet and also has some genderqueer bingqiu (as a treat)

Also one of my favorite quotes ever that still makes me cry to this day:

“I think I am mourning something that never existed to begin with,” […]“I think I am the thing that never existed to begin with.” (It’s in the third fic)

lonely little heartbeat

Rated E, lbh reverse transmigrates at 15 (I don’t want to spoil it but it’s great)

colored bright green

Rated T, Binghe also transmigrates to pidw and finds out he’s not the only one! It’s a slow burn and so sweet

Now Entering Incognito Mode!

Rated E, sqq flees cqms while lbh is in the abyss and he meets a mysterious young lady, I don’t want to spoil this it is soooo good!!!

I'll make the world safe and sound for you

Rated M, babytrapping (kinda?) its sweet and beautiful

go with the flow

Rated T, no plot just sweet post-canon husbands

End Racism in the OTW -- Infinite First Dates

Rated M, set during the five years sqq is dead, a lot of dream sharing. It’s really fun and lovely and just perfect <33

Type Casting

Rated E, oh god this one is soooo good!! What if sqqs mushroom body was that of a woman? And what if he didn’t remember his death?? And what if he himself assigned himself the role of the female lead bc well she’s a woman now so she obviously has to marry lbh right? Right???

Also sqqs inner monologue is so perfect and so good!!!!

I love this one so much pleeeeaase read it!!

the adventure of tiny bing

Rated E, tiny bingbing!! They’re friends and husbands and silly your honor

Error 404: Shizun Not Found?

Rated M, such a unique concept done so well

Promise Me Your Heart

Rated T, such a sweet and so underrated fic! I love it so much it fills me with all the mushy sweet feelings and it’s so tender and romantic and just sooo sweet <33

We’ll Meet While Rain is Falling

Rated E, amnesia that gets fixed by you guessed it papapa!! (It’s really sweet and tender)

Size Empress

Rated E, genderqueer sqq has a dream and well it progresses really well

Benign Deviations

Rated M, Bingge and Bingmei switch places and it’s amazing

shallow water weather

Rated T, MERMAID BINGQIU!! It’s so good (also anything my nyoomerr is amazing so read them all)

continued

Rated T, this one is really hard to describe so just go and read it it’s so fun and hilarious

To Boil a Frog

Rated M, the narrator in this one is so good and fun and overall it’s great

a gentler lesson

Rated T, KISSES!! SOO MANY KISSES!!!!

I (immortal, M) think I might be developing feelings for my roommate (27M). Help!!!

Rated M, so stupid so good just what it says in the title

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into the Bamboo House

Rated T, I just really love this one! Definitely so worth reading (I might have read it twice)

open my lungs to let you in

Rated T, also one I’ve reread a few times

Can't we just skip to the end?

Rated E, time travel baby! This and the sequels are so good!!

night of yearning

Rated E, lbh gets selective amnesia, this absolutely destroyed my soul

As to Me, As to You

Rated T, such an amazing concept with so much potential for future shenanigans and overall so satisfying

right from the start, I gave you my heart

Rated T, sqq is under an obedience curse when the jinlan reunion happens what could possibly go wrong?

Cumplane:

slow dance with you

Rated T, Kissies<33

I've got $400 and a really bad idea

Rated T, fake dating hehehe

Cumplane Summary Archive

Rated T, Outsider pov and overall hilarious

huddle for warmth

Rated G, so sweet and funny

Bros before... well everything I guess

Rated T, theyre a family <33

Moshang:

The Pen is Mightier

Rated E, Mbj seducing his husband <33

speak your mind

Rated T, sweet and touch starved

technically our marriage is saved

Rated T, so fun

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Rated T, this is so good! It destroyed me emotionally and just ugh. My notes after reading it: „My chest hurt and oh my god this is perfect and painful and beautiful“

A Child Once

Rated T, post-canon sqh gets deaged and it’s really good

retrograde

Rated T, amnesia and misunderstandings work out

maine nazaron se tujhe chu liya

Rated M, soulmate marks and a bit of mystery (kinda)

If Not You

Rated E, fuck or die and it’s really good. I stayed up reading this until I could not see properly and I was dizzy

Ok this is it! I went through all my bookmarks for this and it took me the entire day. I hope you enjoy and if you ever need anything specific I can probably find it for you<3

[atlabeth]

weight of the world

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy returns to camp after a successful quest. luke battles his guilt.

a/n: a lot of you guys seemed to like the percy pov and the pure angst of luke doing all this stuff to his first love's brother percy jackson instead of just percy jackson and first and foremost i would like to say you're all crazy but i also agree. so here you go. title from the jon bellion song

wc: 5.6k

warning(s): reader is dead (i feel like i have to tag this every time lmao). angst made angstier with fluffy flashbacks. tlt betrayal scene (pit scorpion edition). everyone is so sad

When Percy returned to camp with Annabeth and Grover, they were hailed as heroes. 

It might not have felt like it on the road, isolated with just the three of them, but they’d prevented a third World War. They certainly stopped camp from getting destroyed, if what Luke told them was true about the cabins taking sides. 

Burning their burial shrouds felt even better, especially with the Ares cabin’s expert craftsmanship. Apparently it was a tradition because demigods died so frequently on quests—Percy took pride in breaking that unsettling standard. 

It turned out all he needed to come into his own was to go on a quest everyone thought would kill him and not die. 

He excelled during his sword fighting lessons—going against a god would do that for you—he’d gotten much better at using his powers—going against a god would also do that for you—and his team always dominated on the lake during races, though that might’ve just been him cheating. 

He’d even started getting used to the Poseidon cabin in all its emptiness. It still felt too lonely, but he was working on it. The first thing he did when he got back to the cabin was pin your photo on the wall—Cabin Three belonged to you as much as it did to him.

And of course, everyone wanted to hear about how Percy saved the world. He’d told the story of his quest about a hundred times since he got back, sometimes with Annabeth piping in to set the record straight, sometimes with Grover dramatically setting the scene, always with a million different questions in between about how everything went down. 

Tonight was no different in the amphitheater—a group of Athena kids wanted to hear about his fight against Ares again—but he managed to get out of giving them the excruciating play-by-play courtesy of campfire songs. Percy didn’t really mind, though—any night with a large, golden fire was a good night in his books. 

Which was kind of how he ended up giving Luke the play-by-play of his quest. Maybe it was bragging, but he hadn’t seen who he considered his first friend at camp in a while. And yeah, sue him, but he wanted to impress Luke. He was cool and nice and good at everything, and Percy wanted to prove he’d made him proud. 

“—And I thought I didn’t stand a chance, but she taunted me and told me to jump into the water if I was really Poseidon’s kid. So I did, and it worked, and somehow I lived.” Percy shook his head with a slight laugh. “It ended up all over the news. I was a nationally wanted criminal for a couple days. We also blew a bus up, and rode with a zebra and a lion to Vegas, and went to the Underworld— gods, we did so much. It was crazy, honestly.” 

Luke chuckled. “I’m sure.” 

Percy glanced over at him, his brows creasing when he saw his distant gaze. He didn’t think Luke heard a single word. “You good, man?” 

He blinked and focused back on Percy, and though he smiled it was strained. “Yeah. Sorry—spaced out for a second. You were talking about your quest?” 

Percy nodded slowly. “Yeah. The whole criminal thing.” 

His smile turned a little more genuine. “You made front page news, too. I think you became the idol of a lotta kids here.”

“Oh, god,” he said with a frown. “You guys get news here?” 

“Couple New York papers,” he nodded. “You’re camp-famous.” 

Percy huffed a laugh and shook his head. “It feels crazy. I just got here a month ago, and everything’s already changed so much.” He looked over at Luke. “What did you do after you got home from your quest?” 

“...It takes some getting used to,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean, getting to camp after so many years on the road was rough—coming back to camp after getting this—” he tapped his scar— “didn’t help.” 

“How did you get that?” he asked. 

“You’re always trying to get the saddest stories out of me,” Luke said wryly. “You know you can read books, right?” 

“I can’t, actually,” Percy said. "Not well."

Luke laughed and shook his head, his gaze falling back to the fire. Percy took it as him moving on. 

“I— I know I’m kind of proving your point, but… I wanted to ask you if I could have a couple more pictures” Percy cleared his throat, brushing a few dark strands of hair out of his face. “Of my sister, I mean. Obviously, you have way more of a right to them than I do, but— but Cabin Three’s a little bare. I thought adding a couple current things to the old stuff she put up would be nice.” 

His throat bobbed, and it took him a second, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah— sure.”

“Tomorrow after breakfast?” he asked. “I’ve got some free time before I have to go down to the forge.”

Luke nodded again. “Sure. You still have that picture I gave you?”

“Of course,” he said. “I already put it up on the wall. Do you want it back?”

His smile was bittersweet as he shook his head. “Nah. Like I said, you deserve to have a piece of her with you. And I’m sure she’d say the same.”

“I asked my dad about her, y’know,” Percy said. Luke’s eyes widened a bit as he looked back at him. “I went to Olympus on my own to return Zeus’s bolt, and the two of them were there. My dad and I got some alone time, and…” he shrugged. “I already annoyed two gods that day. Figured a third wouldn’t be that crazy.”

“What did he say?” 

“That it was one of his greatest regrets,” Percy said. “And he’d never forgive himself for letting her die, and for what it did to her mom.” He glanced at Luke. “And to you.”

Luke’s chest stilled, his gaze going out of focus for a moment as a muscle worked in his jaw. He hid it well, but Percy knew. He’d spent enough time at home with his mom and step-dad, overheard enough one-sided arguments. 

“You’re braver than me,” he finally said, and he stood up. “I’m gonna turn in—it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he said. “And Poseidon is too, for whatever it’s worth.” 

Luke didn’t look back at him as he started towards the path. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Percy.” 

-

“Are you sure you’re allowed to put lights up?” Luke asked. 

“Okay, Chiron,” you said cloyingly. “I didn’t know you were such a stickler for the rules.” 

“I’m just worried about fire safety!” he exclaimed. “The Hephaestus kids nearly burn down their cabin at least five times a week.” 

“They’re working with actual fire. These are just Christmas lights.” You glanced down at him and he handed you the next strand. “Besides, this is the safest cabin for possible fire hazards. And they look pretty—that’s all that matters.” 

Luke chuckled as you hung them up, and he took a step back as you jumped off the chair and moved it to the other side of the room. You usually hung fairy lights, but with the holidays just around the corner, you wanted to make the place more festive. You asked Luke if he wanted to hang out with you while you decorated, and he obviously accepted. He took all the time he could get with you. 

“It’s so quiet in here,” Luke said as you got back up, taking the next strand with you. “I’m not used to an empty cabin.” 

“That’s what happens when you’re not supposed to be alive,” you mused. 

“You of all people can’t say that.” He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Do you ever get lonely in here?” 

“‘Course not,” you said. “I’ve always got you following me around.” 

“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Your company’s the best.” 

You grinned and looked back down at him, and Luke gave you the next string of lights. “Or maybe you’re just a little crazy. You’ve gotta be to spend three years on the road with me.” 

“Being around you is what’s kept me sane,” he corrected. “Especially in the Hermes cabin of chaos.” 

You got up on your toes and lifted a leg up so you could lean to reach the last hook. “Oh, come on. Your siblings are so fun to be around!” 

“Maybe in small doses,” he said wryly. “And be careful, gods—” 

You looked down at him, your grin only growing. “Are you saying you’re worried about me?” 

“Always,” he said, still watching you, “but the last thing you need is to break your leg.” 

“It’s a five foot fall, Luke,” you said, amused as you got back on even footing. You hopped back down and tilted your head. “I’ve survived much higher falls.” 

Luke frowned. “You don’t get to joke about that.” 

“I thought you were dead too,” you defended. “That means it’s fair game.” 

His chest twisted. He’d played that day over in his head thousands of times since he first lost you, wondering if he could have done something different or if he should have searched more—he stayed in those woods for a week and a half searching for you before another monster attack forced him out of the area. It was the whole reason he came up with a designated meeting area with Thalia and Annabeth if they got separated—he never wanted to lose someone again the way he lost you. 

He shook his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it, y’know? 

“Thank my dad,” you said. “I would have died if I didn’t fall into water. And he’s the reason I got to camp.” 

He’s also the reason you ended up on the streets in the first place, Luke wanted to say, but he held his tongue. You’d never shared his disdain for the gods, and he didn’t want to spoil your mood with his bitterness. 

So he doesn’t. He tilted his head and focused back on you. “Do I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're still alive?”

You smiled as you pushed the chair in front of your desk. “I could always stand to hear it more.” 

“Well, I’m thankful that you’re alive,” Luke said. He could have stared at your smile forever. “Mourning you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 

“With any luck, you won’t have to do it again,” you joked. “I get it, though. Sometimes it feels like a dream. I thought I was hallucinating when you came over that hill.”  

The best and the worst day of his life—he found you again and lost Thalia in the same five-minute span. It wasn’t fair—Luke had told Thalia so many stories about you, and she was the one that brought him back from the edge your supposed death sent him to. On his worst days, Luke blamed himself for both. 

“Luke,” you said, jarring him out of his thoughts. “What do you think of the lights? Tacky, or festive, or both?” 

He blinked, then took a step back with you so you could get the full view. He nodded. “Festive, definitely. Where’d you even get them?” 

“The Big House attic,” you said. “It’s not just full of Oracles and spoils of war.” 

He chuckled. “And how did you convince Chiron to give you those?” 

You shrugged. “You know I’m persuasive.” 

Luke shook his head. “I’m jealous. No one else really gets to decorate their place like this.” 

“No siblings means full creative control,” you mused. “And Big Three dad means a big cabin all for me.” 

“And yet you still get a twin bed,” he said with a smile. “We’re all equal, really.” 

“Like you wouldn’t prefer a full.” You fluffed your pillow then set it back down. “You spend as much time in here as I do.” 

“Can you blame me?” Luke shrugged. “There’s no privacy there. We can get away with basically anything in here.” 

“And because you love me,” you said cloyingly as you rustled your hair with his hand. 

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I really do.” 

Your smile widened and you gestured at your box of decorations. “Wanna prove it, loverboy? Help me get the rest of this up before sword lessons.”

“Y’know, I’m leading them today,” Luke said, picking up a stack of snowflake cutouts. He was pretty sure you just took all the rejects after you were in charge of the crafts for a week. “Technically, that means we’ve got as long as we want.” 

“Oh, Luke Castellan,” you said airily, pressing a hand to your chest. “You know the way to my heart.” 

-

“Oh,” Percy said. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. And this is only one of them.” Luke set a cardboard box full of things on an empty bed and sighed. “She made this place her own while she was here.”

Percy took out a stack of baseball cards on top—Red Sox, of course, the only bad thing about you—and shuffled through them. “Everything’s a little dusty.” 

“No one really wanted to come in here after she died,” Luke said. He had a tangled mess of Christmas lights in his hands. “All this stuff stayed up for a year or two before I took it all down.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You’re probably the only one apart from me to be in here since she left.” 

Percy set the cards down. “Do you mind if I put some of it back up?” 

Luke glanced at him. “Why do you always ask me? This is your place.” 

“It’s not just my place,” he said. “I… I want to make sure I’m honoring her well. And I don’t wanna make it harder for you. Especially if you took it down for a reason.” 

Luke was silent for a moment as he stared at the lights. He brushed off some dust with his thumb. 

Percy felt bad for pushing the matter every time he was around Luke, but there was a tug inside of him—an innate need to know more about her, a desperation to honor her life despite never meeting her. 

“I appreciate it,” he finally said. “But go for it, man. You don’t have to get my permission.” 

Percy nodded, and he took a poster out, wedged in the side of the box. A Blondie poster, based off the huge block letters above a blonde singer stylized in pop art. It had a torn corner, and bits of tape had been folded over some parts of the edges. 

Luke chuckled. “She was a huge Blondie fan. She brought her Walkman when she ran away—I lost count of how many times we listened to Parallel Lines. Definitely put that one back up.” 

Percy nodded and set it on his bed. He looked at the lights in Luke’s hand. “Why’d she have those?” 

“She loved to light the cabin up,” he explained. “Said it made it feel more homey, and she liked to change it with the seasons. And when she enlisted the Aphrodite kids, it was like a— a HomeGoods warzone.” Luke shook his head with the most genuine smile he’d seen all day. “She really was something special.”  

Again, Percy’s heart clenched. It wasn’t fair he only got to learn about you through stories, only through the past tense. If he could get his mom back, why the hell couldn’t he get you back? Why couldn’t his dad have stepped in? 

What good was regret when you have all the power in the world to stop it? What good was being a god if you couldn’t save your family when it mattered most? 

“Y’know, I decorated this place a million times with her,” he said, and Percy was thankful for the interruption with his thoughts. “She wanted it to be a welcoming cabin, open to the whole camp if they ever got homesick.” 

“So the opposite of what it used to be,” Percy said wryly. 

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “You two are the first Poseidon kids in a long time because of the oath—it was just here for respect. She didn’t just make it into her home, she made it into a home for anyone that needed some extra warmth.” 

Percy looked around, trying to imagine you and a younger, unscarred Luke putting all this stuff on the walls, him helping you hang Christmas lights. You sitting on a bed, maybe what he’d chosen as his bed, talking a younger camper through their fears or their homesickness. You forcing the innate coldness of Cabin Three out and replacing it with warmth of your own. 

“Did you bring any pictures?” he asked. 

Luke nodded again and took a few out of his pockets, offering them to Percy. He took the one sticking out the most and smiled a bit. 

“Very Poseidon of her,” he commented. 

“She loved the beach,” Luke said, smiling wistfully. “No matter what state we were in, she would always try to find one. We could’ve walked twenty miles that day, and the moment she stepped into the water she would be good as new. I should’ve known who her dad was a lot sooner.”

Percy’s hand lingered on the picture he’d just put up. You stood on a sandy shore with your arms spread and head tilted back, and you looked wholly in your element. 

He wondered what you would think of Montauk. 

“This was one of those times?” he asked. 

Luke nodded. “North Carolina. A year and a half in, I think. We missed the East Coast after being in the Midwest for so long, and naturally, she found a beach immediately.” His eyes softened. “She was always so happy around the water, even after she knew what it meant.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Finding out the thing you’ve always loved is the domain of the father who abandoned you is a little rough.” 

Luke always spoke with more nerve towards the gods than any other camper he knew. Funny, considering he was one of the first ones to tell him that names had power.

And he’d been acting weird since Percy got back from the quest. He thought maybe he was jealous, but Luke didn’t really seem like the jealous type—especially when he was already so cool. 

Then again, they did just come back from the brink of a possible world war. Percy should’ve been surprised more people weren’t acting weird. 

His attention drifted to the clock on the wall in the midst of his thoughts—Chiron’s last ditch effort in a camp full of time-blind kids—and his eyes widened. 

Percy muttered under his breath—Annabeth had taught him some Ancient Greek curse words on the road, and he was sure his mom would love them—and looked up at Luke. “Sorry, man. I’ve gotta go. Time really got away from me.” 

“I get it,” he nodded. “Have you gotten any better?” 

He glanced away bashfully. “Not really. But Beckendorf has the patience of a saint. Maybe someday I’ll make an actually functional sword.” 

Luke chuckled, though it was wistful. “Good luck. You mind if I stay here for a bit? I can put up some of her things.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “of course. Stay as long as you want.” 

Percy stopped once he got out of the door. Luke’s gaze was glued to a picture of you on the wall, his expression softer than he’d ever seen before at odds with something indistinguishable in his eyes. Again, Percy felt that all-encompassing dread, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He left before it could consume him, but the haunted look in Luke’s eyes didn’t leave his head for the rest of the day. 

-

You took in a deep breath of salty air. The sea breeze blew over you as waves gently rolled into shore, and you smiled. You never felt more like yourself than when you were at the beach, and when you and Luke were constantly on the run fighting for your lives, sometimes you desperately needed to feel like yourself. 

You exhaled long and slow. It had been a particularly rough week—Luke did his best patching up your shoulder, but it would definitely scar—and this was just what you needed to wind down before you started moving again. 

You and your mom went to Cape Cod a lot when you were growing up, and though this wasn’t anywhere close to the same, it made for an alright stand-in.

The click of a polaroid camera interrupted your peace, and you opened your eyes and turned your head to see the culprit. 

“And you made fun of me for constantly taking pictures,” you said wryly. 

Luke smiled. “I made fun of you for taking up valuable space in your bag to bring your camera with you. I can’t not take pictures of you—especially when you’re so photogenic.” 

“Flatterer.” 

“Not if it’s true,” he remarked. He held out the camera to you. “Wanna get any pictures of the sea? You’ve got a better eye than me.” 

“Well, the sea’s a better subject than me,” you said. “Hold onto it.” 

He chuckled and took it back, drying out the newly printed picture. “How’re you feeling, by the way? I know it’s been a hard few days.”  

“Never better,” you said. “I needed a break from the road.”

“I get why you wanted to stop here,” he said. “It’s… calming.”

“Isn’t it?” You spread your arms out, breathing in deep once more. “I always feel better out here. More free.”

Another camera click, and your smile grew. “How do you feel?” 

“Better too, surprisingly. But that might just be because we’re walking instead of running.” You heard his footsteps and he came up next to you. You took the picture he offered and chuckled. You had your head back and your arms spread, soaking up every bit of sun and sea air you could. 

“I look like a stock photo.” 

“Does that mean I can get a job as a photographer?” he asked. “We could use some extra cash.” 

“Half of the pictures are either random parts of nature or me,” you said. “Who’d buy those?” 

“Me,” Luke said. “But I don’t think that would help with our money problems.” 

“All this flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you said. 

“It got me here,” he said. “I think it’s worked out pretty well.” 

You smiled as you looped arms with Luke, and after you gestured with your head, you started walking down the sand together. Whereas you always felt like you were blurting out the first thing that came to mind when you were around him, Luke always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. “Do you like it here?” 

Luke nodded. “It’s nice. I get why you like the water so much.” 

“At least one beach a week going forward now that we’re on the coast again, then,” you said. “Deal?” 

“Deal,” he agreed. 

“Good,” you said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to go back to Virginia Beach. Last time, those giant ant things ruined it for us.” 

“Gods,” Luke grumbled, and you felt him shiver. “Don’t remind me of those things. I’ll never forget what their poison smelled like—and I’ll never forgive them for ruining my favorite shirt.” 

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll get you a Red Sox one someday, and it’ll become your new favorite shirt.” 

Luke shook his head. “Your Boston baseball propaganda isn’t gonna work. I was raised as a Yankee.” 

“And I’m here to undo that awful brainwashing,” you said sagely. “Next time we go through Massachusetts, I’ll have to get you one. And we can stop by Cape Cod—I think being close to the water is good for my health.” 

“And I like seeing you happy,” he mused. “So I guess it works out for both of us.” 

You laughed. “We’ll have to stop at a music store before the day ends, too. I’ve nearly worn out my Cyndi Lauper tape, and I need to get some new ones. You should pick out an album you like too.h” 

“‘Course,” he said. “I think we’ve got some extra cash saved up. And if we have to—” 

“We shouldn’t steal anything yet,” you interrupted. “I don’t wanna get the cops on our backs so soon.” 

“You say that like I would get caught,” Luke remarked. “It’s literally in my genes. I’m making my father proud, and I’m helping you. I see no reason not to do it.” 

“Cool it,” you said. “We’re not becoming Bonnie and Clyde at the ripe old age of eleven.” 

“Fine.” You couldn’t see it, but you could sense his smile. “I’ll hold off. For now.” 

That got another laugh out of you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt like you’d been on the run for a week straight—this was the best break you could have asked for. Maybe the sea was good for your health, you thought. Or maybe it was just Luke. 

Either worked for you. 

-

Percy could hardly breathe as he stared down at the scorpion, slowly inching its way up his pants leg. It wasn’t every day one of your friends betrayed and tried to kill you in the woods, but this seemed like the year he started checking things off his bucket list. 

“So this was your plan all along,” he said, attention split between the pit scorpion and the traitor. “Gain my trust, send me to Tartarus, start a war for Kronos.” 

The air got colder, and Luke tilted his head. “You should be careful with names.”

“And you should do the job yourself,” he challenged. “You want to kill me? Fight me like a man.” 

“I’m not Ares,” he said tartly. “You can’t bait me.” 

“So you’re a coward too?” Red hot anger rose within him, and the words left him before he could really think about them. “Did you also lie about my sister? Got a hobby of killing Poseidon kids?”

“Zeus got her killed, Percy!” Luke yelled. There was something wild in his eyes as he gestured with his sword. “I loved her more than anything—I held her as she died, and your dad let it happen. If it weren’t for the gods, both her and Thalia would be alive!” 

Maybe it was a good thing Percy didn’t know that until now. If he knew the king of gods was responsible for his sister’s death, he would’ve gotten himself burnt to a crisp on Olympus. 

“This isn’t what my sister would have wanted,” he said. “She—”

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” His voice continued to rise. “You don’t know her— you don’t know what she would have wanted!” 

“She couldn’t have wanted this!” he exclaimed. Percy’s breath caught momentarily as the scorpion inched closer and he forced his muscles to remain as still as possible as his gaze flicked back over to Luke. “This isn’t the way to fix things, Luke. I promise.” 

He shook his head, and he could have been a son of Ares the way fire seemed to blaze in his eyes. “She died because of Zeus, Percy. She was so close to sixteen, and that meant she was a threat to his power. He sent monsters to kill her, and your dad could have saved her, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it. And y’know,” Luke huffed a laugh, cold and mirthless, “the same thing’s gonna happen to you.” 

His blood had turned to ice. “He knows the pain of losing a daughter. Why would he—” 

“Because they don’t care, Percy!” he yelled, his sword cutting through the air again. “All they care about is keeping their power and their position. Your dad would rather send you on a death quest than stop stroking his ego for one measly second. Hades sent monsters to kill Thalia, and Zeus sent monsters to kill your sister—they can’t punish each other, so they punish us, and the cycle will never stop until we make it stop.”

“And you think that this is the way to do it?” he asked desperately. “By betraying camp and all your friends? We’re in the same position as you are!” 

“And anyone that’s smart will join our cause,” Luke said. “Do you really think I’m the only one that’s upset with the gods? I’ve been here for five years—I’ve seen kids leave for the school year and never come back. I’ve seen kids die without ever being claimed. My own dad turned me away at every opportunity. Our numbers are bigger than you know, Percy.” 

“You say I don’t know my sister,” Percy said, “but I know her enough to know she wouldn’t want this. Not in her name. Not against our father.” 

“You don’t know her at all,” Luke said, voice trembling. “If she knew that Zeus killed her for nothing but paranoia over a bullshit prophecy, she would be fighting against the gods right beside me.” 

“I lost her once,” he continued, shaky but full of anger, “and then I got her back, just to lose her all over again. The gods will never know that kind of pain—if they did, they wouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.” 

The scorpion was at his knee now. Percy was running out of time, and his mind was working in overdrive on how to get more, but he found himself rendered speechless. What could he say to a boy who’d lost everything? 

Luke was the lightning thief, he’d fully intended to kill Percy with those shoes, he meant to turn the gods against each other and raise Kronos, and now he was really trying to kill him.  

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

Percy thought he’d lost his mother, but now she was back. He’d met his father in person. He had a sister he’d never meet, that he would never be able to fully grieve. Luke loved her and grew up with her and grieved her twice.

Percy didn’t care—anyone who his sister loved couldn’t be a bad person. Not fully.  

“Please, Luke,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know how to solve it, but this isn’t the way. You think the gods are using you? Kronos is doing the exact same thing.” 

“You’re twelve, Percy, and you’re already the chosen one,” Luke said. “Hades and Ares would have both killed you if they got their way, and it was your job to stop a war between the gods because they couldn’t see beyond their egos. How is that fair to you?”  

“There was no other choice,” Percy insisted. “If either of them backed down, they would look weak. We’re the only ones that can do quests like this.” 

“Exactly,” he said. “They start petty fights that they can’t finish and it gets taken out on us. We have to be their heroes, and we have to praise them as we die.”

Percy remembered their bus exploding. Medusa, an innocent woman favored by Poseidon and punished by Athena for it. The endless souls in the Asphodel Fields, and even more waiting in line for their chance to be judged. Luke’s quest given to him by his father permanently scarring him, Thalia Grace sacrificing herself for her friends, his sister never getting the chance to see sixteen—Percy himself being used as a pawn to enact Kronos’s plan. 

“You don’t have to be a hero,” Luke continued, almost begging at this point. “You can join our cause—you can prove you’re so much more than the prophecies want you to be. Say the word and I’ll call it off.”

Percy wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of godly respect. He tricked Hades, insulted Zeus, and actually fought Ares. But his dad loved him—or loved his mom, at least. Annabeth’s determination and Grover’s steadfastness and all the friends he’d made at camp—all innocent children like himself. He couldn’t turn his back on that. 

Percy clenched his jaw. “I will never serve Kronos.”

Pain flashed in Luke’s dark eyes, but he shut it down just as soon. “So be it.”

He slashed his sword through the air and a ripple of darkness appeared, the void bleeding into the forest. 

“I really am sorry it came to this, Percy,” Luke said quietly. “But it’ll be quick. And that’s a bigger mercy than Zeus gave your sister.”

Luke disappeared into the darkness and it vanished soon after. Percy didn’t have time to think about his words—the scorpion had reached his thigh. Sixty seconds, Luke had said, then it was over. 

Percy had about five seconds to think of a plan before it lunged at him. He batted it away with one hand and uncapped his sword with the other, cutting the scorpion in half before it could reach the ground. 

He thought he did it. Then he looked at his hand, a red welt already sweltering on his palm, oozing sticky yellow liquid. 

Percy stumbled to the creek and submerged his hand, but nothing happened. He muttered a delusional prayer to his dad, then to his mother, then to you as he stumbled his way towards camp. Nymphs emerged from their trees, and he croaked a plea for help. 

As Percy collapsed, barely caught by nymphs on either side, he swore that he saw you. Did that mean he was dying? You had kind eyes like his mother, an aura of warmth unlike the feverish heat in his body, and it made the idea of it a lot less scary. 

He wondered if he’d meet you in Elysium. 

Percy reached a leaden arm out to you, mumbling your name despite his cottonmouth, and then his vision went black. 

[ceruleanskies48]

A Happy, Satisfying Ending for Mizu

For Day 11 of @taimizu week, I wanted to discuss what would be a happy, satisfying ending for Mizu. When asked about future seasons, the creators have teased that even though Mizu is hell-bent on killing the four white men for her revenge, that’s not what she actually needs—what would make her happy. Instead, Mizu’s journey is ultimately one of learning self-acceptance and the importance of human connection.

To me, the most satisfying ending to the series (after Mizu completes her quest) would be for Mizu to be in a happy long-term relationship with Taigen, living in the countryside, doing some combination of running a dojo, raising horses, and/or forging swords. Although some might think of such an ending as regressive—Mizu ending up as a man’s wife/partner—that’s not how I view it. Mizu is not a Disney princess who was predestined for marriage and whose triumphant arc would lead her to be a single girlboss. When we meet Mizu at the beginning of Season 1, she is already alone and on a lonely path: she is a social outcast who was consistently treated as subhuman and made to feel unworthy of love. That is precisely her motivation for her revenge. For her to be in a stable, loving relationship would be revolutionary. 

Yes, the relationship is with one of the people who made her feel subhuman, but that’s part of what would make the ending so potent symbolically. Little Taigen represents the cruelty of the society Mizu was born into. As a child, Taigen did not know any better but to regard Mizu with contempt. For him to become a source of unconditional love and support would show not only personal growth on his part, but also represent hope for societal transformation. Already throughout Season 1, he continuously showed that he values her life (even over his own), views her as being better than him in the thing he cares about the most, and wants to help her fight her fights.

Also, most importantly, I think such an ending would make Mizu happy. Throughout Season 1, the happiest we see Mizu is when she is married to Mikio and living peacefully on the ranch. Her life there was by no means perfect—she had to deal with her mother’s constant judgment, and Mikio’s love was predicated on her hiding her abilities as a swordsman—but she was happy. In hindsight, her brief life of domestic bliss was a fragile house of cards, but she can build a stable version of this with Taigen. He has already been set up as a foil to Mikio in key dimensions: he is turned on by her fighting prowess, and he is brave and loyal to a fault. He on many occasions offers up his life to protect hers, even when they are “enemies,” in stark contrast to Mikio leaving her to be killed. Moreover, Taigen has already shown that he is happy to play a supporting role to Mizu, so if they are endgame, Mizu would be able to pursue her goals on her own terms instead of subsuming herself to support her husband like in her first marriage. It would be her forge, her ranch, her dojo—not just his.

Finally, there is a bit of evidence suggesting the creators might have such an endgame in sight. The kanji for Taigen’s name (泰源), which you can see written by Mizu in the screenshot below, means peaceful fountainhead/wellspring. This is an interesting choice for a man who is portrayed in Season 1 as anything but calm and peaceful. He is an angry ball of hatred and frustration for most of the season, but by the end, he wants a simple, happy life. Could he have this life eventually with Mizu? The connection with water/mizu is interesting too—he is literally a source for peaceful water. I hope we see him manifest his namesake by the ending, providing Mizu with the peace and love that she deserves.

Bonus: Regarding whether Taigen can make Mizu happy, Taigen in Season 1 wins the award for prompting the most number (3) of genuine, non-sarcastic smiles from present-day Mizu (see below). Also the only present-day Mizu laugh (tumble at the forge)!

[heli-writes]

 A marriage of convenience, part 3: something like family.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

The day at the fair changed things around the cottage. (Y/s/n), who used to be quite wary of Yoriichi, starts seeking out his attention more and more. In his own way, he starts to ask Yoriichi to play with him. He kicks his ball in Yoriichi's direction or runs after him with his kite. Yoriichi is too kind to tell the boy no and always ends up joining the child in his games. (Y/n) watches this development with fondness in her heart. In this whole arrangement, she was worried for (y/s/n) the most. The boy has been through too much to worry about her and the strange man who suddenly lives with them. Though he understands more than he tends to let others see, (y/n) is sure of that. During the day, while (y/s/n) occupies Yoriichi's time, (y/n) gets work around the house done. When the sun sets, (y/n) calls both of them inside for dinner and they sit around the small table and share a meal. In these moments, the three of them seem to be something like a family. When the moon rises and it's time for Yoriichi to leave and do his duty, (y/n) suddenly feels heavy-hearted. She starts to worry about Yoriichi being all alone outside at night hunting demons. She starts to understand why his friends wanted him to get married. At least this way, someone can notice his absence in the morning.

She watches Yoriichi tuck his sword to his side yet another night. (Y/s/n) is already in bed. "Will you be home early tomorrow?", she asks, "I might need some help with the cart." Yoriichi internally stumbles over the word 'home'. Does (y/n) already consider him part of her home? "I don't know yet. I will have to travel far tonight. I am sent to a remote village where young men are disappearing. (Y/n) shifts awkwardly on her feet. "Sounds dangerous.", she notes. Yoriichi is unsure what to say to this. It is dangerous but he also knows what he is doing. "You'll take care, don't you?", (y/n) says softly. Yoriichi adverts his gaze. She's worried about him. "I'll be fine.", he says coldly and without looking at her. She shouldn't worry about him. It's not that kind of marriage. (Y/n) notices his change of attitude and quickly answers: "Of course. I'm going to bed. Good luck." As she hears Yoriichi leave, she feels a sting in her heart. It's clear Yoriichi tried to keep her at a distance. She's not sure why, however. Just because she doesn't want him to die or get hurt, this doesn't mean she's helplessly in love with the man.

Yoriichi ends up being late and (y/n) fixes the cart herself. When he's not back by sunrise, she leaves breakfast on the table for him and leaves the cottage with her son in tow. The sun stands high in the sky when Yoriichi returns to the empty cottage. He's absolutely spent. The walk has been farther than he anticipated and he dealt not only with one demon but three tonight. He's not surprised to see (y/n) and the boy gone. After he ate (y/n)'s breakfast, he takes a bath and falls into his futon. When (y/n) and her son return in the late afternoon, it's still quiet in the cottage. (Y/n) hushes her son outside so that he won't wake Yoriichi. After putting away some purchases, she enters the bedroom. Yoriichi lies on his side with one arm over the top of his head. The low sun shines through the window and onto his hair. (Y/n) looks at him for a while. The light of the sun makes his hair look redder than usual. His breathing is soft and regular. (Y/n) is actually not sure if she ever saw Yoriichi breathe in s different rhythm. He's very good-looking, she thinks to herself. It's surprising no other woman tried to woo him after his wife's death. Vultures don't tend to let the dust settle. (Y/n) knows that from experience. She leans against the door frame and starts thinking about her fiance. Sadness fills her heart and she needs to advert her gaze from Yoriichi.

Yoriichi wakes up to the clattering of dishes and pans. (Y/n) is cooking, he can smell it in the air. He slowly sits up and runs his hand through his disheveled hair. He hears smaller feet tapping the wooden floor in the hallway. "Sshh...", he hears (y/n) say, "Yoriichi is still asleep. You can help me if you want to, but don't bother him." Yoriichi slowly gets up and stretches. The sun hasn't set yet but is already disappearing behind the high trees that surround the cottage. Upon leaving the bedroom, (y/s/n) immediately is at his leg and presents him with a book. "Oh, I'm sorry Yoriichi. You have to tell him no if he's bothering you.", (y/n) says standing at the door to the living area. "It's alright.", Yoriichi says with a hoarse voice. "You must be thirsty. Wait a second.", (y/n) says while quickly turning away. He doesn't see the slight blush on her cheeks upon hearing his voice. (Y/n) can't help but find his grogginess attractive. She puts a cup of water for him on the table and continues cooking. After Yoriichi ignored (y/s/n) for the sake of the water, (y/s/n) runs up to his mother with his book. He pulls at her kimono to get her attention. (Y/n) sighs. "I can't read to you now. Come help me, you can stir the soup.", she says. (Y/s/n) stand on a stool taking the wooden spoon from (y/n)'s hand and starts stirring. Yoriichi watches them silently. (Y/n) is humming a song and gently swinging her hips as she forms meatballs. (Y/s/n) tries to imitate her by swinging his hips a little too hard and out of rhythm. Yoriichi has to smile at that. "What are you smiling at?", (y/n) says with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Can you do it better than we?". Yoriichi clears his throat, embarrassed that he was caught staring. "I think you two are really good at his.", he says. "Ha, you heard that, (y/s/n)? We're great cooks and even greater dancers!", (y/n) exclaims. (Y/s/n) looks up to her in glee. (Y/n) grabs his little hands and starts swinging both of them in a silly rhythm. Her son starts hopping up and down to the soundless music. Yoriichi can't help but look at the scene fondly. Perhaps he was too harsh yesterday evening. He starts to care about the two of them. Why shouldn't (y/n) start caring about him too?

After dinner, (y/n) puts (y/s/n) to bed. Afterward, she joins Yoriichi outside on the porch with two cups of tea. "When did you come home? Must've been a long night considering how long you slept.", she asks Yoriichi. He hums in agreement. "It got late. Thank you for letting me sleep.", he says. "That's alright", she replies, "Though it was really hard to keep (y/s/n) busy.". Yoriichi takes a sip of his tea. "He's getting attached to you, you know. I'm sorry if that's not what you want from this.", (y/n) says with a wave of her hand. Yoriichi shrugs. "It's alright. I like the boy. He reminds me of me when I was young.", he says. "Really? I can't imagine that. You seem a lot calmer than him.", (y/n) smiles looking into her own cup. "I guess I was calmer. But I also didn't speak for a long time.", Yoriichi answers. (Y/n) looks up at him surprised. "Really? That's good to hear.", she says. Yoriichi turns to her and crooks his head a bit. "What do you mean?", he asks. "Well...", (y/n) starts, "You see, I'm worried about him not speaking. I thought it would just take some time for him to process things, but it's been three years and he still doesn't speak again." "What happened three years ago?", Yoriichi asks. (Y/n) takes a deep breath. "A demon.", she finally says, "You probably noticed (y/s/n) and I don't look much alike. It's because he's not mine. His parents were killed three years ago. His mother was a dear friend of mine, so I took him in." Yoriichi nods. He expected something like this. Things didn't add up with the (y/s/n)'s age and the death of her fiancée and he didn't take (y/n) for the type of woman to get herself pregnant elsewhere. "I'm sorry about that.", he says quietly. (Y/n) sighs again. "Well, you must see things like this all the time. To be honest, I don't know how you do it. I've only seen it once and it was more than enough for me.", she says. Yoriichi puts down his cup and looks into the night sky. "It's a sense of duty.", he finally responds. (Y/n) nods. "A dangerous sense, I guess.", she notes quietly. Yoriichi turns back to her. Maybe he should apologize to her for yesterday. "Look...", he begins, "I'm sorry about how I reacted yesterday. I understand why you're worried about my job." (Y/n) waves her hands in front of her to put him off. "Please, don't be sorry. I get it. This union was not tied to be worried... or be emotional about each other.", she waves him off. Yoriichi looks down. "Still," he says, "We live together. I suppose it's normal to look out for each other... or get attached in some way.". (Y/n) looks at him surprised. "I guess so.", she replies, "At least I can say that (y/s/n) and I are glad to have you around." Yoriichi nods at that. He also is glad to have the two around. While he wouldn't admit it in front of his friends, they were right about him being lonely. He enjoys (y/n)'s and her son's company. He suddenly feels pressure on his arm. (Y/n) has put her hand on his arm and gives it a soft squeeze. "Don't think about it too hard. You'll just get tangled up in unpleasant thoughts.", she states firmly. All Yoriichi can do is nod at that. "It's late. I should go to sleep. Don't stay up too long.". (Y/n) yawns as she stands up. Yoriichi bids her good night and stays behind in the night breeze, alone with his thoughts.

[lavalais76]

I was reading terrible things about Sansa Stark and now my blood is boiling. How could people HATE an 11 yr old child who has absolutely no control over her own life. They went as far as to saying the mountain-clan will kidnap her and she will marry Timit!!!!😳

They also say Sansa will remain in the Vale until the end of the last book, but have no objections to Arya and Dany on a revenge killing spree. And for God's sake don't mention Sansa with Jon. They absolutely go INSANE, saying Dany and Jon will save humanity. Dany can't save anyone if she is killing millions of people and burning others alive.

Sansa will kill LF with the help of Timit is what they say and OHHH, Jon will marry Val. How TF can Val be QINT when she is a wilding and no real princess. She looks the part as Jon says, but we ALL know what kind of woman Jon REALLY CRAVE. A high born willowy creature who brushes her hair waiting for some knight to save her.

Jon craves Sansa Stark aNd I personally believe he always HAVE. My response to "these idiots was this: (and I could be wrong) but who knows.

Alyas Karstark was a red herring. Sansa is definitely the girl in grey. Miranda also has a grey cloak that went missing and WHY would Miranda mention Jon being LC to Sansa? There is a reason for all of that. Just like Arya and Jon were to fall in love in original version, it's going to be Sansa and Jon.

Jon even says he has no sister (,5Never considered Sansa a sister) he then says “my half sister truly” (that's what he and Sansa referred to each other as) He mistakes Melsandra for Ygritte, and says all robes are GREY in the dark, yet suddenly hers were RED. Martin is a hell of a writer, and I was in denial about Sansa being the grey girl as well. Not anymore.

Sansa is getting the hell out of the Vale. There will be no kidnapping from mointain-clans or falling in love with a secondary character such as Timit. What sense would that even make? Some people act as if Sansa doesn't matter, or she is some side character when she has one of the most tragic SAD stories in the whole series. She is scared and do whatever she has to do to survive, even if it means allowing LF to kiss her and molest her in which she has NO CONTROL over. It also blows my mind how people were “shipping” (and I hate that word) Sansa Stark and the HOUND of all monsters. Sansa has had 4 FALE BEASTS in her life. Joffery, Tyrion, The Hound, and LF. These men are evil and takes advantage of a young lonely 11 yr old girl who has been captured like a butterfly in a Jar. They are evil, YES; BUT they are NOT the real BEAST.

The real BEAST is Jon Snow. As we know, Jon was already a bit ruthless before the stabbings. (I do not think Jon died that night) For ONE: We need to think about the SNOW and hypothermia which can save the lives of people who are bleeding by knife wound or gunshot would. It's simple Science. Will Jon be on the brink of death and have a Near death experience? YES. There will be a lot of chaos at Castle Black and the wildings are very loyal to Jon. Eventually they will be ruling the wall while Jon recovers along with a few other loyal CROWS that love and respect Jon.

Master Ameon had a dragon dream when him, Gilly and Sam sailed off. He couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to tell Jon Snow that “ the cold preserves.” A fan asked GRRM about Jon's resurrection, and Martin said, “You think Jon is dead do you?” Maybe he was toying around, but everyone automatically assumed he DIED when there is absolutely NO EVIDENCE.

“He never felt the 4 knife only the cold” How do we even know there was a 4th knife or any other knives afterwards? Why was Jon’s hand clumsy when he tried to pull his sword out? Did they drug him? Why was Ghost acting hostile before the stabbings? Of course Ghost knew what was up. There is no telling who is involved in the attempt on Jon's life. Melsandra told him to watch the ones who smile in his face while they sharpen their daggers. I don't even rule Satin out, as Ive said many, many times.

On the show, Ollie was Satin in my opinion. They did not want to give it away. Back to Jon and Sansa and a few other things. First I want to say, Melsandra will definitely burn Shrinee thinking Stannis is actually dead. She will play absolutely NO PART in bringing Jon back from his “coma”. It's going to be Jon's wolf who saves him and release his soul back into his body, and Ghost will die, also sliding his shadow into Jon because Jon IS GHOST.

He will definitely be a beast and he will not be the same Jon as we know him. This is where Sansa Stark ( girl in grey) will come along and temper Jon just like she did the hound. They will eventually work together and fall in love and struggle with these feelings because keep in mind, Jon and Sansa does not know each other AT ALL. Yes, he will welcome her in open arms and be extremely protective of her, and yes they will fight while trying to get their home back or when they have to rebuild Winterfell together. (The blood of Winterfell)

Sansa Stark is destined to go North because she is the only one out of all the Stark children who has her wolf buried at Winterfell, and as Melsandra like to say: “the bones remember"

[cipheramnesia]

hi :) i know youve already answered recs for queer horror movies, but do you know of any more trans horror movies, specifically?

Trans horror films by and staring trans people is pretty thin. I'm not versed enough in the small and indie short film world where I think most of these are likely to be found. The closest I know to a mainstream horror movie with a trans protagonist played by a trans actor is Bit, which is a movie so bad I would have not finished it otherwise. Not recommended.

My most controversial pick is probably going to be Sleepaway Camp 2+3. I've talked about this series at length and it's probably going to in the trans movie discussion for as long as humanity exists. That said, I find trans woman slasher Angela Baker delightful fun. The first movie is a different animal and it's um something.

The Wild Boys is honestly amazing. I don't know if there's a right way to go describing this, but the basic premise is a group of murderous juvenile delinquent boys are shipwrecked on an island which slowly transforms them into women. Women all play the roles of the delinquent boys, creating a strong sense of realism. It's a strange, violent, queer, surreal French film and I would call it a queer horror essential.

Titane wasn't intended as a trans movie by its director, but its also hard not to interpret trans elements in a movie where a woman disguises herself as a man including breaking her own nose to radically alter her face, eventually is sort of taken on as an adoptive son, and never really wholly returns to any feminine roles. Much like The Wild Boys, it's a glorious and surreal movie and another movie I'd consider required viewing.

Boarding School is a whole lot. I'd say it needs some trigger warnings for child abuse, child death, and nazi / holocaust trauma at least. Boarding School is a strange and highly distressing mixture of revenge, ghost story, and child abandonment, all wrapped around a young trans child exploring gender. It's a stunning, gorgeous and dreamlike movie. Not precisely surreal, but paralogical in places.

We're All Going To The World's Fair is by a trans filmmaker! Fuck yes! I wouldn't call it mainstream, and it's clearly on the experimental end of the film spectrum, but it's widely critically acclaimed and has a lot of trans feeling put into. I'd also recommend it for atmosphere and a sort of quiet sense of emotional unrest. Filmmaker Jane Schoenbrun's next film, I Saw The TV Glow has been picked up by A24, so keep an eye out for it.

Bad Things is sort of the inverse of World's Fair, a queer movie staring queer and trans actors, it's, well, fine. For a film with a banger of an idea (The Shining but all queer) and so much queerness in the production, it's shockingly flat, listless even, as if no one wants to be on the set. But, well it exists I guess.

Der Samurai is hard to say if it's intentionally trans, but features a strange gender ambiguous figure in a gorgeous flowing dress who terrorizes a small German town with a samurai sword and seems to be seducing a young, lone policeman through the night. Ultimately tragic in its conclusion, still a beautiful film and dear to my heart.

Lastly, I want to give a shout out to the Chucky movie series. Starting with Seed Of Chucky and going through at least season two, it gets very weird with gender and is very queer.

[sexlovelitpodcast]

Sex Love Lit girlies! I watched Crash Landing On You (my first k-drama) and now I have a conundrum: A) I want to watch more k-dramas, and B) No k-drama can seem to measure up to CLOY 😭 Could you put together a playlist of entry-level k-dramas for new fans that capture the CLOY magic? Bonus points if they’re on Netflix

@sliceoflifegirl thanks for the ask!

(Corinne here) First of all, welcome to KDrama land! Crash Landing on You was my second ever KDrama, and the one that really got me hooked. I’m gonna be honest, it’s a hard one to top when you’re mid emotional hangover! That said, I love this ask and recommending KDramas to people, so I’m more than happy to recommend some. My strategy here, rather than recommend something that exactly mimics CLoY (because imo, there’s nothing exactly like it), is to recommend dramas that I think are some of the best of their genre—with some aspect that might help scratch that CLOY itch ;) So, without further ado, here is your KDrama Starter Pack: 

Goblin aka Guardian: The Lonely and Great God—This fantasy romance is a classic for a reason. The set-up: 900+ year old goblin Kim Shin is on a quest to find the goblin bride to pull the sword out of his chest and finally let him die. The catch: when he finds goblin bride Eun-tak and starts to fall in love with her, he wonders if there might be something to this whole “life” thing after all. Also featured: a glum Grim Reaper, with whom Kim Shin has a top tier bromance, who has a doomed romance of his own. Goblin gave me one of the biggest emotional hangovers post-CLOY in my early KDrama days. One caveat: Kim Shin meets Eun Tak when she’s in high school, so if huge age gaps in fantasy romances give you the ick, maybe give this one a pass (in which case the fantasy romances I recommend checking out instead are Alchemy of Souls and Doom at Your Service, both on Netflix atm). (On Viki)

Mr. Sunshine—My pick for one of the best historical (aka sageuk) KDramas out there. Set in early 1900’s Joseon, just before/in the early days of Japanese occupation, this drama follows the lives of five equally compelling characters as they navigate the political turmoil of the time. At the center are Lady Ae-sin, an aristocratic lady with a tendency for dressing up as a man and sneaking around at night on missions for the rebels, and Eugene Choi, an American Marine now stationed in Joseon who escaped enslavement there as a child and has mixed feelings about the land of his birth. This one resonates with the forbidden/doomed love of people from different classes and cultures from CLOY. (On Netflix)

Reply 1988—This slice of live drama set in Seoul in 1988 follows five families who live in the same neighborhood, and especially five of their high school aged children as they grow up during a particularly vibrant time in South Korea’s recent history. Like the other installments in the Reply series, the series uses two of the main characters in the present day (or present to when it was released, anyway) looking back—which means that viewers know the Deok-sun ends up married to one of her four besties, but which one?? Still, while the love triangle mystery is fun, at its heart, this story is about community. It’ll scratch the CLoY itch for the North Korean market lady shenanigans, and a few others as well (especially if you like intense yearning in your dramas). (On Netflix)

Business Proposal—If you’d like romance of a completely different genre than CLOY, look no further than Business Proposal! In this KDrama, Shin Ha-ri goes on a blind date in place of her friend as a favor only find out that the date is with her boss. This tightly plotted romantic comedy plays with more rom com tropes than you can shake a stick at, but never sits with one so long that it gets old. The B couple is also fire, and helps move things along whenever the A couple gets into a rut. This drama also features some chaebol (rich business family) shenanigans a la CLOY.  (On Netflix)

Extraordinary Attorney Woo–If you’re in the mood for a workplace comedy/drama, look no further than Extraordinary Attorney Woo. Featuring the incandescent Park Eun Bin as rookie attorney Woo Young Woo, this legal drama features about a case per episode as Attorney Woo finds her way in the world alongside a delightful main cast of characters. (On Netflix)

Little Women—My choice for the makjang to include on this list (a genre in which extreme storylines are treated very seriously), this drama focuses on the three Oh sisters as the oldest finds that her friend who died under mysterious circumstances has left her 70 billion that a powerful political family will stop at nothing to get their hands on. Will the story always make complete sense? No. But will the stellar performances, fast-paced, genre-mixing drama, and wild cliffhangers keep you on the edge of your seat as you binge the whole thing? Absolutely. (On Netflix)

Extraordinary You—Youth dramas may or may not be your thing, but if you have the patience for the shenanigans of high schools, Extraordinary You is my top pick. In this fantasy romance, Eun Dan-Oh discovers that she is actually a character in a comic–and she’s not even the main one! While still high school appropriate, Eun Dan-oh’s literally doomed-by-the-narrative and impossible circumstances romance with Haru, another side character, is another one from my early KDrama days to stick with me just as much as Yoon Se-ri and Ri Jeong-hyeokk’s. (On Viki)

Search: WWW—Ayanni’s particular contribution to this list, this modern romantic drama focuses on intersecting lives of three women working in the fast-paced tech industry at the top two competing web portal companies. Just as interesting as each woman’s various romantic entanglement are their entanglements with each other as they put their careers ahead of just about everything else. Ayanni says she especially appreciates this one because it focuses specifically on three women (also in this genre are Be Melodramatic and Because this is My First Life). 

Happy watching--and do let us know if you pick any of these up!

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #71: The Night's Watch, but make it found family

Maester Aemon is perhaps my favorite character in ASOIAF. He could have been king. He could have lived a life of luxury as a prince in the south. He could easily have forsaken all his vows and risen to the most dizzying heights - and chose to remain sworn to guard the realm of men twice over as a maester of the Night's Watch.

So I thought: What would it take to give Maester Aemon the best possible ending?

Aka: The Maekar the Maester Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - until the Greyjoy Rebellion, where Ned falls to a lucky crossbow bolt during the Siege of Pyke.

King Robert razes the castle in his fury, not bothering to evacuate the remaining Greyjoys or the common folk who took refuge in the castle. It is a massacre - but it puts the fear of god in the surviving Ironborn. The new Lord Reaper Rodrik Harlaw remains a faithful servant for all his days.

Back in Winterfell, 6-year-old Robb Stark is the new Lord Paramount of the North. His mother, Lady Catelyn, is his regent. And one of her first acts is to send her husband's bastard to the Wall. Which endears her to very few, as first graders have no place in a military organization even in Medieval times.

Benjen is away on a ranging at the time, so the Lord Commander entrusts young Jon's care to the only other man he can trust: Maester Aemon.

This works out better than anyone might have expected, because although Aemon is nearly 90 years old and has limited experience with children, the pair get on in a way that they really shouldn't given their vast difference in age and experience. But young Jon is bright and lively and curious, and Aemon has been lonely and lacking mental stimuli for most of his time at the Wall.

By the time Benjen returns from his ranging, the maester has already been dubbed Uncle Aemon and Benjen has to navigate co-parenting with a man who thinks teaching a young boy to stitch sword wounds is an appropriate learning activity.

(Benjen also has to navigate the urge to ride down to Winterfell and murder his brother's widow, and doesn't for the sole reason his nieces and nephews are too young to be orphaned.)

Jon grows up in the Night's Watch. He absorbs everything that there is to learn with the bright-eyed eagerness of a child - and though Jeor would hate to admit it, makes Castle Black a more enjoyable place to live. By age fourteen he can swing a sword, plan a ranging, sew a wound, cook a meal, repair a sword, patch a castle wall, chart the stars; track an animal, skin and butcher it, and name its bones afterwards; mix wildfire, and recite every piece of dragonlore he's ever learned - including a few slivers of knowledge that were normally only saved for dragonlords.

At fourteen he's allowed to make his Night's Watch vows.

The night before, Maester Aemon calls Jon into his chambers and tells him that could not be prouder of Jon if he were his own son.

Jon admits that he's wished many times over the years that Aemon was his father and considers him the father of his heart - more than Ned Stark, who he hardly remembers; more than Benjen, whose duties often keep him away; more than Jeor, who is kind but distant.

There are many tears and much hugging and more confessions, but at the end of it Aemon adopts Jon - perhaps through some Valeryian blood ritual - and gifts him the name Maeker, after his own father.

Canon proceeds apace elsewhere, save that when Jon Arryn dies, Robert rides to Highgarden at Renly's urging to name Mace Tyrell Hand of the King - and sends a raven in the opposite direction to summon Sansa as a bride for Joffrey.

Mace, through an almost comical series of events, comes to the same realization that Ned did in canon: that Cersei's children are not Robert's. Rather than try to have her step aside gracefully, he attempts to blackmail the queen into retiring to a motherhouse so that Margery can take her place... This does not go well.

Westeros erupts into war. It follows canon very closely - save that Cersei tries to use Sansa's presence in King's Landing to blackmail the North into fighting on Joffrey's side. Robb still ends up being named King in the North, this time more out of the urging of bannermen angry at how much the Southron wars have cost the North instead of revenge.

All this largely passes Maekar by on the Wall. He remains behind during the Great Ranging, serving at Aemon's assistant and apprentice. When the survivors return with news of the Others, he's skeptical but willing to hear the evidence - and wins the election for 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.

As the War for the Dawn looms, Maekar sends messengers to each of the remaining kings for aide. Only Daenerys Targaryen responds, intrigued by everything she's been told by the messenger of the man they call Maekar the Maester, the adopted son of her Great-Uncle.

While Daenerys journeys north, Maester Aemon dies in his bed with Maekar at his side. With his last breaths, he gifts Maekar his maester's chain, saying that he has more than earned it - and that Maekar shall go down in history as the greatest of all Targaryens.

Daenerys grows even more intrigued by Maekar when she arrives at the Wall, but respects his desire to honor his vows. They remain great friends for the rest of their lives, sending entire flocks of ravens back and forth. Together they lead their forces against the Night's King-

-a task made easier when Bran and Meera Reed show up on the wrong side of the Wall, having slain the Three-Eyed Raven and raided his hoard. Amongst which are Blackfyre and Dark Sister.

Blackfyre is truly a massive sword and with dragonsteel in such short supply Daenerys allows Maekar to wield the Conqueror's blade in battle, as she cannot.

The War for the Dawn continues for another year - just long enough for the other kingdoms to realize what's happening and send a handful of reinforcements - before Maekar manages to slay the Night's King. Daenerys is able to destroy the last of the Others with her dragons...

...and when she lands, Maekar wastes no time in returning Blackfyre to her keeping.

A Great Council is held in the south. Though they try to offer the crown to Maekar, the hero of the War for the Dawn and (now wildly known thanks to Bran) rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Maekar refuses. They eventually grant the crown to Daenerys, who rules fairly and well for sixty years. She names her eldest son Maekar after her dearest friend.

Bonuses include: 1) Dozens of small character moments between Aemon and Maekar, showing the development of their relationship and depth of the feeling they share over the years; 2) Maekar inadvertently playing matchmaker more times than you'd expect of a man in a celibate organization. This should include hitting Bran and Meera over the head until they realize they've been crushing on each other for years, and getting Dany to give the minor lord she ends up marrying a chance; and 3) Young Jon breathing so much life into Castle Black that it's nearly unrecognizable from canon by the time Sam joins up. It's still cold, but it's not so miserable. It is, in fact, a home.

This is actually an idea I've had kicking around for a while and have only finally managed to put down. As always, feel free to adopt this most beloved of buns, just link back if you do anything with it.

Other Jon Snow Headcanons: Aelor the Accursed | Aegon the Adopted | Aegon the Undying | Aegon the Unyielding | Aemon the Adventurous | Baelor the Brave | Bastard of Winterfell | Daemon the Destroyer | Daena the Dreamer | Daeron the Desired | Dyanna the Defiant | Elia the Magnificent | Jon the Fair | Jon Whitefyre | King of the Ashes | Lady Arryn | Lady Baratheon | Lady Lannister | Lady Stark | Lord of the Dance | Maekar the Maester | Prince Consort | Prince of Summerhall | Queen Mother | Queen of Nightingales | Red Queen | Rhaegar the Righteous | River Queen | Shiera Snowbird | Visneya the Victorious | Wolf Queen

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[fablefaye]

want to rant about Desert Duo because I’ve been thinkinggg

So I’ve been thinking about DD’s like… arc and how it has an ARC. While in Last life Grian says to Scar that nothing carries over from previous season I can’t help but feel like they do, from a character point at least.

3rd Life, The Beginning.

In 3rd life there is nothing, this is the beginning, the empty slate. In the start Grian doesn’t really seemed too bothered about finding any team mates and it looks like he’s going to be playing a little lone wolf-y.

HOWEVER he ends up killing Scar. The first death, of the first series, and it’s his fault. So he teams up with Scar and over the series they bond and grow closer, they kill their main rivals, Ren and Martyn and things are looking great.

but then things come down to the final three and Scar betrays him. Grian hadn’t thought he would actually do it. Or sit back and let it happen. But he didn’t grab the paper and Scar… killed him. After all they’d been through! After everything Grian had done for Scar!

He gets the sneak attack on them, ignoring Scar’s messages that showed he was trying to team back up. Grian ends up with his sword poised at Scar, and to his surprise, Scar doesn’t fight and instead he tells Grian to kill him. But Grian can’t do it, even after the betrayal. Everything they had been through, and the guilt on Scar’s face, and in his voice, stopped Grian in his tracks. but there can’t be two winners, so they end up fighting. But not in some random place in the woods, but instead where all their fond memories had been made, in the desert, next to Pizza, a friend who had fallen.

Grian wins, it’s an honest fight because both of them see this as a win. And in the end Grian remains, alone. So he jumps off the cliff of their mountain, of their home.

Grian caused the first death and Grian caused the last.

Last Life, The Divorce (part one)

So Last Life starts, and despite Grian saying that all ties are cut, the first person he goes to, is Scar. Maybe this is because he’s gullible and had a lot of lives. But maybe it was also because, despite what Grian had said, he still felt ties, even if they were faint.

But even if he feel ties he still doesn’t want to get close to Scar again, the blood still stains his hands. Instead he starts pushing Scar away and being almost hostile a lot of the time.

However, despite Grian’s efforts he comes back to Scar, again and again. But it’s just because Scar always has so many lives. Grian assures himself.

He steals Scar’s horse, (which was originally his) and kills it in front of Scar. Trying to show Scar that they are not in the desert anymore. Grian is not the same Grian.

They end up dying separately, completely unrelated to each other. Both feeling unfulfilled as they die.

Double Life, Divorce (part two) and the Rekindling.

In the beginning of Double Life we see everyone going around looking for each other, for their soulmates. And while Grian begs it not to be so, guess who he ends up with…? Scar. Because who else would it be? Who else COULD it be?

Grian hates this, He can’t go back to the desert, he can’t do it again. So he’s harsher to Scar, and keeps him at a distance. He tells Scar to keep his pets outside. They will not have another Pizza. They will not return to the desert.

Grian decides to defy fate and become Secret soulmates with BigB. It doesn’t take long for Scar to find out though. But why would Grian replace him like this? Scar couldn’t understand why Grian was so hostile (at least not to the full extent) and why they felt so disconnected. He couldn’t understand how Grian could replace him… betray him…

Tensions are in the air, especially after Scar reveals that he knows about Grian’s secret soulmate. Time passes and Grian and Scar end up at the box.

Now it’s interesting that Grian, during this whole heist (that goes on for a little while mind you), never once considers that the person he’s trying to kill is his Secret Soulmate??? Now maybe he genuinely didn’t realize as the thrill got to him, but maybe he was doing it because, he felt guilty for what he had done to Scar. Scar had been mostly nice and followed orders this whole time (beside the snow incidents) and hurting him like this was like kicking a puppy.

But either way he ends up killing BigB and is heart broken. He had killed another friend. So he made a grave for him and everything. (One of the few other graves in this series belonged to a certain someone now didn’t it?)

after this event Grian is still distant, but with no one else to turn to, he and Scar start warming up to each other, if just a smidge. And it stays like this for a little while. I’d like to think until the siege of the velvet keep. Because when Scar makes that bucket clutch I think this is the moment Grian realizes that this isn’t 3rd life Scar, this Scar can take care of himself and that things are different now. This idea is only strengthened when Scar manages to escape by himself. They end up hiding away in a corner surrounded by CACTI. And as the last greens on the server with no one to safely turn to. They turn to each other.

however things quickly go wrong and Grian watches helplessly as Scar causes two of their deaths. But they stays strong this time and stick together.

After this they plan to release another warden but things go wrong again and both end up dying, and Grian is apologizing profusely to Scar. At this point their relationship had been pretty mended. But I’d like to think there was a scene there, in between games. Where they talked… and they figured things out and where finally able to realize how to move on, together but apart.

Because after Double Life it feels like most things have been mended (outside of a line here or there. Things will still never be the same after all.) But things between them are friendly and lighthearted again. Grian in secret life even going to the point of asking Scar if he wanted team up (that didn’t pan out but that’s okay) because even if they’re not actually on the same team, they still know the other cares.

I think they finally left the desert…

[trashlama]

Ok hear me out Yandere redson and Mei poly /team up hcs please 🙏who both fallen for macaque female apprentice ~

Mei fights her seeing as macaque fighting monkey king , which leads to MK fighting her future darling it was only when reader makes shadow clones to trap MK , that’s when Mei gets involved. 

It would have been fine if the reader didn’t have such a flirty attitude, who likes to praise Mei even when Mei sword was near her throat. 

Before Mei could do anything , reader disappeared into the shadow realm 

For Red son , I can see him teaming up with her since MK is there enemy , with his brain and her brawn , MK and his friends will be finished in no time . (Reader teamed up with his , for sine reason her mentor disappeared and she thinking rid of MK and his friends will make him praise her ) 

He did not expect reader to be so smooth and honestly praises his inventions even saying he’s amazing . 

There were so close yet MK still won , Red son thought she was gonna leave him only for her to teleport him and her to her hideout to heal his wounds before sending him back home ,not before giving him a flirty remark . 

After that an obsession grow for Red son 

While Mei she gains a guilty crush that got worse when reader decide to keep her company since MK been busy Lately, She knows she should hate it but she been feeling lonely and when reader not being flirty she can be nice even winning Mei a dragon plushie at a fair . 

What made her snap was realising Red son fallen for her darling , but seeing how there got along greatly if there difference aside , there decided to team up to make reader theirs . 

My dude —deep inhale of air— would it be alright if I made this into like a two possibly three shot series?

I love the idea and I've been brainstorming tons of ideas for this one and in each scenario I'm like damn this idea is so good. I really want to do it justice so I need to have multiple chapters. Ya know? To build the tension and really get a feel of the mindsets and what not.

However—

(SORRY THIS TURNS INTO A LITTLE AUTHOR'S NOTE)

As you guys are aware I have to seriously start working on this future Yan Raph fic of mine... . It's Ironic but, I reeaally want to start writing the future yan Mikey part. Mostly because I basically have that one planned out in my head. Meanwhile I got like five different possible scenarios for the Raph fic that I can't decide on. Though a few months ago I had said I was gonna do the Raph one first so to keep my word I plan to do so.

However SOMEBODY (an anon) had requested a future Yan Michelangelo fic and I'm like brooooo were you reading my thoughts? Cause they were somewhat close to what I had in mind but not quite. But the point is I need to write the Raph fic soooonn!!!

Gotta appease the masses~✨

Though guys I'm a bad Trashlama. I keep brainstorming all these awesome plots that I totally want to write— which ironically were formulated when I was brainstorming for the Raph fic.

Soooo I'm gonna do a poll so I can force my procrastinating/ADHD ass to write at least some of these.

And guys btw I'm sorry again for taking so long. I've been caught up recently with finishing a lot of other things I had been procrastinating. -Cough- Hogwarts Legacy -Cough- Spider-Man Across the Spider-verse -Cough- Adult responsibilities -Cough- -Cough-!!!

Anyways thank you guys again for sticking around to the end. I'll have that poll out soon(probably today).

HERE'S THE POLL

In the mean time here's some memes!

Sorry this is long↓ I don't own these memes. I've never claimed to do so. I just come across them on Pinterest when I'm on break at work and think they're funny so I like to share them. If I mistakenly put one on here that I shouldn't have please let me know! I like to respect people's wishes. And if you could add the creator names too that would be great so the same mistake isn't made twice. Sorry for the inconvenience that my sharing may cause. I hope you have a good day.

[lxnlxnranch]

Regarding your Triforce!Reader post, I've had brain worms about a very similar concept. Except the reader has the Triforce of Balance, with a slight bit of each of the other Triforces type of influence.

For example, they're stronger than they should be because of Power, but still weaker than the holder of Power. Able to hear the words of the sword/goddess and have visions, but unable to seal like Wisdom. And the unending drive to help others, no matter the cost, from Courage.

They traveled with every Link, helping to temper the more...impulsive side they all have. However, due to Demise's curse after their first journey, they start having issues. Moments where Demise's rage sneak into their mind.

The three golden goddesses (or Hylia, I haven't decided yet) offer Reader a choice. They can give up their role entirely (and not be reincarnated), or they can continue their role in each cycle only to be immediately transported through time to the next one. Reader, knowing the second choice would cause Sky and Sun great pain, asks that every time they move forward, they be forgotten by everyone they leave behind.

The deal is made, and Reader gets to take one more day with those they care for. Knowing they'll be forgotten, Reader spends the entire day with Sky and Sun.

Now, when the Chain forms, the limits of Reader's deal are tested. After all, they never left Wild behind, so he remembers them, but the others only have a vague sense of familiarity. Over time, their memories return, and everyone gets to be happy for the rest of the journey.

The end? Well, I think I'll just have to be convinced to write this as a series first. >=D

(Sorry for the wall of text, I just had to infodump about this idea I've had for YEARS that only got more complex with LU in the mix)

OH MY GOODNESS no I absolute adore this! The Triforce of Balance makes so much sense, I love it! I would read the absolute crap out of your mini series I'm gonna be so real. There's just something about giving it your all, loving so fiercely, only to be condemned to be lonely almost perpetually. It just hits my angst heart so well 🫶🏽

I might write something with Triforce!Reader soon, but I have some other asks I need to get to first. Genuinely thanks so much for sharing, I love this sm <3

[hanzajesthanza]

appreciation for sapkowski's geralt

i wrote a long post for r/wiedzmin sooo i'm also going to post it here (feel free to comment on both platforms if you use reddit):

in the midst of everything that's going on with h*nry c*vill and li*m h*msworth, i want to foster some love for the original geralt of rivia, who first emerged in publication in december 1986, way before any netflix show used the name or any actor called himself “geralt.”

because to me, there's only one original, real geralt, and that is the geralt of the books. no one is geralt, except geralt himself.

so, reblog and comment (or leave in the tags) any favorite scenes, moments, qualities, or character development from geralt, or about his relations with other characters in the series, that you appreciate from the book series. and please keep it sapkowski's canon-only, if you can (the books, the short stories, even the non-canon something ends, something begins).

i’ll start:

what i love about geralt is that he holds complexity as an inversion of the trope of the hero. he feels very real to me — he just wants to be left alone, to do his job, but he also gets lonely and he’s overall a sensitive and emotional character underneath the black leather and silver-studded surface. while he’s practical-minded (like in bounds of reason and a shard of ice being annoyed that eyck takes money for hunting monsters because it hurts his business, or demanding that he gets the right amount of agreed-upon pay for the zeugl contract), he also is compelled to do what is “right” (like in the lesser evil, the last wish, or something more intervening with renfri in the marketplace, saving yennefer from the djinn, deciding to go back to cintra to get ciri after all)

i love how he’s always so conflicted, hesitant, and troubled. he often overthinks things, and makes decisions that often don’t benefit him personally, but are either selfless or good-natured. i don’t think he’s a grouch or unfriendly — i think he responds quite reasonably to the world and situations around him (like in baptism of fire, he’s pretty whiney and upset for the majority of the book, but his daughter is literally missing and his broken arm and leg are barely healed, of course he’s distraught.)

he’s complex and yet he’s also simple, as dandelion writes, “straightforward as a halberd shaft.” he doesn’t scheme or plan, which is refreshing in a world of shady sorcerers and spies. he’s straightforward with his feelings and intentions. he loves his family and friends, and that's his real motivation throughout the series.

my favorite scenes for and with him are probably (in chronological order):

the voice of reason iv, where he speaks with iola about his past, his origins at kaer morhen, and his life as a witcher, how he was initially filled with certainty that the world needed him.

the voice of reason v, where he speaks with dandelion about his troubles as a witcher and finding work.

the last wish, when he falls in love with yennefer at the end and thinks about how beautiful she is, how he knew she would become everything. how he regrets scrutinizing her and hurting her with his eyes, vowing to never think like that about her again. how he saves her life with no ulterior motive — the fact that yennefer hears the wish and says that he’s condemned himself to her… they both have such low self-esteem, they’re both traumatized and troubled in their own ways, from their own trainings, but he, as one vulnerable person, reached out to another, equally vulnerable person, implying ‘let’s not tear each other down, let’s try to heal together.’

eternal flame, when he tears his brand new, twenty-two crown jacket, trying to mend it in vain by the fountain. and when he can’t kill dudu, and when he softly laughs at the end, agreeing to go with dandelion & dudu, dainty, and “chapelle” to the passiflora.

sword of destiny. i love how selfless he becomes once ciri enters the picture, and he didn’t even initially know who she was. he doesn’t bemoan his fate as a witcher, burdening a child with his troubles. he acts so kindly and appropriately towards her, entertaining her, protecting her…

something more. all of something more, but especially when he finds ciri, dropping to his knees and holding her so tightly 🥺 promising they’ll be together forever.

blood of elves ch. 1, when he wakes ciri from her nightmare and covers her with the sheepskin, reassuring her.

blood of elves ch. 3, when he instructs ciri to give up her sword, they fight a disagreement, and he makes an impossible leap to catch her.

blood of elves ch. 5, when he swears to philippa that if any harm comes to ciri, he’ll… and then immediately passes out from loss of blood.

time of contempt ch 3, when yennefer wouldn’t let him wear his “pretentious” headband, and he’s messing with his hair and whining about it.

time of contempt ch. 5, when his voice breaks telling dandelion that ciri needs him, that she cannot be left alone.

baptism of fire ch. 1 and 4 & tower of the swallow ch. 3 and 5, every time his knee badly pains him.

baptism of fire ch. 5, when he has fish soup with his newly formed company and grumbles about how they're "a team of heroes, a fellowship of idiots, united by a common goal which none of them understand."

baptism of fire ch. 7, when he speaks with milva, and then speaks with regis, refusing to go through ysgith upon learning that milva is pregnant and after talking to her she decided to keep the pregnancy. he says that he thought he was ready to go to ciri at any cost, but this is too high a cost. he’s not willing to risk milva and put her in danger for himself, her child for his child. like, his company became another family to him, forged in the fire of war.

baptism of fire ch. 7, when he and cahir hold the jaruga bridge together!

tower of the swallow ch. 5, when he mistakes angoulême for ciri, goes hot and cold at the same time, tries to calm himself with axii, and it doesn’t work! and then cooperates, “only for her sake.” because even if she’s not ciri, he recognizes she’s a young girl who needs to be rescued and brought into a family, very much like ciri.

tower of the swallow ch. 5, when he speaks with fulko artevelde and cleverly denounces and dissects authoritarianism as a governmental philosophy. it’s such a good dialogue!

tower of the swallow ch. 6, when he apologizes to cahir for losing his temper and his mind in the mine, and also for accusing him of being a traitor.

tower of the swallow ch. 7, when he finds out that his company is in danger and immediately demands to leave and ride to them.

lady of the lake ch. 2, when he calls regis his friend in the caves underneath mount gorgon.

lady of the lake ch. 3, when he and dandelion part ways and he “gasps audibly” upon hearing dandelion wants to stay in beauclair.

lady of the lake ch. 9… when he and yennefer finally find ciri again, and he greets her “ciri,” he answered, with a lump in his throat, “i’m glad to see you again.” him not feeling anger, grief, or hatred… just fatigue and with a great need to be done with it all. when he looks towards the corridor that ciri came out of, “as if expecting someone else to come from there. ciri shook her head. he understood,” like, he didn’t forget about his hanza, he didn’t forget about cahir and angoulême, even though he probably already sensed they had died… he still was hoping that they would survive. him not interrupting yennefer and ciri’s hug until a long time had passed, recognizing and respecting their mother-daughter bond, not being jealous of yennefer but encouraging their love. and as they descend down the marble staircase, he instructs ciri, still a father to her after all this time and after all these trials, with yennefer behind them, him telling her that everything is just a symbol, and commenting on her swordplay, saying “calmly,” “stick close to me,” and that if ciri ever tries to deflect a crossbow bolt with her sword like that again, she’ll get a spanking 😭

lady of the lake ch. 12… you know why. ψ but to be more specific:"very well," said the witcher, walking towards the exit. "but this is the last time! dammit, it really is the last time!" and "stop," he wanted to cry," where are you going? it’s enough that i always piss into the wind."

season of storms epilogue, when “he” speaks with nimue on her way to aretuza. he says that even more than a hundred years after his death, that geralt of rivia would be happy, if people remembered him, if they remembered the name of his horse. yes, he would be happy… if only he could know it. then they discuss how witchers will always be needed, for evil always will lurk in the darkness. and he reassures her to follow her destiny, which she does, and because of this, ciri follows her destiny at stygga castle!

his very specific aesthetics: his white hair, his weird eyes or as angoulême rhymes, "oczy dziwoczy!", his "hideous smile" and "hideous squint," his angular features, large nose, his (tower of the swallow ch. 7) torn ear and lost medallion, his sword over his right shoulder (and silver sword kept on roach), his black leather gloves and jacket "bristling with silver spikes," and his silly leather headband!

a complex character, a tragic hero, and really, just a normal man trying to survive, do the right thing, and protect his loved ones in a world of war and contempt.

[kii-nami]

A KISS OF SHIMMERING ICE: A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE LOVE INTERESTS AND ROUTES

AFCAT SERIES MASTERLIST | ISF GENERAL MASTERLIST | CHARACTER PROFILE | VOICE LINES | DISCORD

DAINSLEIF

ROUTE: TRUE END

SYNOPSIS: A young Princess of a dying nation and a dutiful guard who is tasked with looking after her. A beautiful friendship which was never destined to blossom into anything more despite both sides yearning for it. Yet their path is set in stone and they are meant to find their way to each other one way or another.

ABOUT DAINSLEIF: Oh, you wish to hear about my Twilight Sword. I see… He is quite intriguing man, isn't he? Well, my first and only love has been my greatest betrayal. I think there is a part of me that will forever love Dain and it is both bittersweet and frustrating. It doesn't mean I do not harbor hatred for what he has done on that day. Maybe someday we get to… never mind. Saga is calling for me. Fatui business cannot wait.

ABOUT [NAME]: How do you know that name, Traveler? I see… It seems my mistakes have finally caught up to me. Lady [Name] has always been a difficult person to understand and yet, it was very easy for me to care about her. [Name] was… [Name] is… she has been blinded by someone else's ideas. It is my job as her Twilight Sword to bring her clarity. I shall continue searching. But for now, if you ever see her again, do tell her to take it easy. It wasn't her fault. Destiny is inescapable.

AL HAITHAM

ROUTE: GOOD END

SYNOPSIS: A Scribe with an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a woman who is way more than she pretends to be. A relationship that is mutually beneficial can turn into something neither of them expect.

ABOUT AL HAITHAM: Oh, the Scribe? He is an extremely knowledgeable man, that one. Given he is a simple mortal of no impressive power. He is quite arrogant about it, however. I will admit, Haitham is a company that is somewhat pleasant to me. His help with Saga's sudden succumbing to illness has been greatly appreciated.

ABOUT [NAME]: Not sure why you need my insight about the Snezhnayan diplomat, but I am free at the moment. The Fatui Handler is certainly an odd little thing, Traveler. She knows a lot more than meets the eye, and I would be very careful around her if I were you. However, I must admit, it was quite enjoyable to work with her. I am a man of knowledge, after all. And she has it in plenty. Wonder when Snezhnayan academic field started researching dead languages…

PANTALONE/ADRIEN

ROUTE: NEUTRAL END

SYNOPSIS: A man who has not been chosen and a woman who has been discarded. Yet she has chosen him for the very same wit he was unfavored for and molded him into the person he is today. So, is it paying debt and taking pity, or is it true friendship that they share?

ABOUT ADRIEN: Is it not great when a man is sensible? I am not a woman of many friends, but I do enjoy the teatime with him. I picked Adrien for this position specifically, and I do not care for much else to know about him outside of his field of expertise. It is calming me greatly to know the nation's riches are safe under his watchful eye.

ABOUT [NAME]: Lady Innamorata? You should not be asking such frivolous questions, little Traveler. All Snezhnayan walls do have ears, have you not heard? But of course, our treasured Handler is a woman whom I owe a lot to. Do not mind that, however. Did you know our stern Commander loves her tea as sweet as liquid sugar? Quite a peculiar detail, I would say, heh.

SCARAMOUCHE/EITA

ROUTE: MERRY BAD END

SYNOPSIS: A lost puppet in search of self and a lonely Queen on the path of vengeance. She has given him a semblance of a place to belong, and he has given her a reluctant devotion. Too bad the Queen is not much better from his mother.

ABOUT EITA: Oh my, Traveler! Eita has been doing alright, do not fret. As arrogant and self-important as always, but what do you expect from a puppet who was always meant to be God. He is far more tolerable now that The Second Throne has recognized him as worthy. I wonder why is that, however. But no matter… Tell little Nahida the terms of his release are still being met. I do not break my promises.

ABOUT [NAME]: Almighty Traveler wishes to know more about Innamorata, I see… Trust her and you are as good as dead, that's what I am gonna tell you. Me? Trusting her? No. That is not trust. That is debt. And similar goals. You know very little of this world, Outlander, do not pretend to understand me and [N—]… The Handler. Time's up, the elf maid is calling upon me. Heed my advice, Traveler.

ALBEDO

ROUTE: DEAD END

SYNOPSIS: The greatest student and the greatest creation. One is disillusioned by reality and other is still blinded by devotion. Can he find what he has been searching for, and can she look at him without seeing her mistakes?

ABOUT ALBEDO: Chalk Prince is… Master… Rhinedottir… She has been successful, after all... Oh Traveler! Yes, I do know Albedo. The Chief Alchemist has this familiar feel to him. I guess you can call it home… I look at him and see a girl I knew back in the day. She is not around anymore, but Albedo is walking the same path she did. It saddens me a tad bit. He doesn't have a person who can disillusion him, so I am patiently awaiting that thrilling moment he is forced to face this cruel reality. 

ABOUT [NAME]: Innamorata is truly a fascinating woman. Not a lot of people are willing to do such deep research about khemia nor do they have such understanding of alchemy as a whole. My Master would have surely liked her. Oh, me? Of course, I enjoyed our brief conversations greatly. An odd thing to say, but I would gladly meet The Handler again.