#and basically i think its nice to create a tree that someone might connect to and not have to do as much work

[4point7]

THWACK - A Negan One Shot

Summary: a load of words slung haphazardly together to create a modern masterpiece. Written for @negans-lucille-tblr​ 6K Roll The Dice Challenge using the prompt “ I'm a slave to your games. I'm just a sucker for pain “.

Characters: Negan x Reader (ft. Floral Wallpaper)

Rating: 18+ but maybe less than 98

Warnings: All the warnings. Don’t read this if you get offended by anything typically Negan. Floral Wallpaper.

Word Count: 1,963 

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The sound of the clock echos through your mind. It suffocates your thoughts as it reminds you of the monotonous grind of time. Every "tick" amplified through the dark. The space between each one extending for eternity as the silence between them crashes through you like unrelenting waves on a crumbling cliff face, slowly beating away at your resilience. The rest of the community sleeps blissfully as you lay there, your consciousness unwavering.

Tick.

You roll on to your side and open your eyes, staring blankly at the wall. The floral wallpaper, once pristine, now peels away slightly at the seems, unveiling the illusion of perfection, breaking the once perfect pattern.

The luxuries of the past have long been abandoned. What's the point in keeping the inside looking nice any more? Compared to the horror that lies in the world beyond the mildew covered window of The Sanctuary, the room you're in, even in this state, IS luxury these days. You only need to see a couple of Walkers have their heads smashed in to be cleansed of material desires and become satisfied with basic needs being met.

Another tick of the clock calls an end to the time you're willing to designate to falling asleep. You sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed, exposing them to the chill of the air that your bed sheets were protecting you from.

You feel the layer of dust and dirt on the soles of your feet as they connect with the cold floor. You reach to grab your clothes from the chair next to the bed and pull them on, taking the time to dust the debris from your feet before donning your boots.

You open the door, trying to muffle it's creak by pulling it softly and slowly away from the latch before stepping out into the hallway. You would rather not wake anyone. People would get suspicious if they saw someone walking The Sanctuary grounds in the early hours of the morning.

You make your way along the corridor to the door that leads outside and gently push it open. The cool breeze from outside washes over you, almost through you, as it breaks into the corridor. You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs, calming you, if just for a moment.

The door comes to a stop with a soft thud, fully revealing the early morning landscape. The trees and buildings in the distance consumed by a mist that spills onto the roads towards you.

As you step out, gravel crunching underfoot, a glint catches your eye. You follow it to its origin, finally laying your eyes on the steel barb wire coiled tightly around a baseball bat, like a snake wrapped tightly around a branch. It's doing no harm where it is but anger it and it will bite! Lucille, resting by the man himself, Negan.

You wonder if you can back away, sink back into the darkness of the doorway but it's too late, even though he isn't facing you, you know he knows you're there.

He stands, leaning on a barrier, his folded arms resting along it supporting the weight of his upper body, leather jacket taught across is broad back. Lucille stands propped against the barrier beside him, perfectly inanimate yet still so menacing. It's like the bat had a presence all of it's own, bringing fear to many while being nothing more than a prop to the horrors of it's master.

You have wanted to be this close to Negan for such a long time but now, in his presence, you freeze. Just standing there taking him in, feeling your heart thump harder in your chest, adrenaline surging through you.

"You just gonna stand there pissin' your pants or are you gonna join me?" His deep voice startles you for a moment, you weren't expecting him to speak. You walk over and lean on the barrier next to him, staring out into the mist.

You sense him turn to look at you but you don't dare look back. Not yet.

"So... who are you?" He says in a gentle deep drawl.

"I am Negan", you respond, now turning your head to look him, traces of a smirk lining your lips.

He chuckles and looks back to the landscape. "Holy shit balls, we got ourselves a joker!"

You don't take your eyes from him, taking in his profile. It's not until you're up-close like this that you can see his imperfections, the lines starting to creep across his skin, breaking the perfect appearance, reminding you of that floral wallpaper.

"What the fuck are you doing awake at this time, Comedian?"

"Can't sleep", you respond.

"Huh. No fuckin' shit!" He pauses for a beat and you say nothing. "Me either."

"Why?" You pry and he lets out a sigh.

"Could you fuckin' sleep if you had to do the shit that I do? Smashin' dead fuckers' heads don't make my prick hard, Joker! Smashin' livin' fuckers', even less so but some fuck's got to protect and lead this community. They haunt me. Every one of the cunts marchin', around my fuckin' thoughts like they're on parade. That's why."

It's an honesty you weren't expecting from him. You had always been sold this fearless, unfazed persona yet here before you stood a man troubled by the actions of his past. Almost broken. For a moment you let yourself pity him.

"Does nothing ever help distract your mind? Help you sleep?" You ask.

"Fuckin' my wives! At least, it used to. But knowing their just fuckin' me out of fear has started to take the shine off the pussy, if you know what I mean? Shit! I wanna slip my cock down the throat of a fucker who wants it, not just because they feel obliged. Then I might have the release I need". His hand slips down and gently caresses the handle of Lucille as if unconsciously.

You're so close to getting what you have wanted for a long time and you know you can get it if you play your cards right.

"WANT ME TO GIVE THE OLD CODGER A DAVID BLOWIE?", you exclaim.

"Oooh err, yes please, if that's okay with you, like? If you like don't mind and stuff and that?" He says back in a melancholy tone not far from how a school boy might ask for his ball back when he kicked it into his neighbours garden.

"You want to?"

"WANT TO? I'D FUCKING LOVE TO!" you whisper. "GIMME THAT WONDER WURST!"

You drop to your knees. Ouch! You think. You should have gotten down gently. Why the fuck you decided to drop so hard no one fucking knows.

You undo his pants revealing his big, flaccid whopper. "It's flaccid." You say. "Yes" he replies.

You stick out your tongue and touch the head of his penis with it as though your testing an ice lolly to see how cold it is. THWACK! His instant erection ploughs into your chin, essentially upper cutting you, and knocks you over. His meat looks like a big fat sausage that's about to explode. You get back to your knees and take his shaft in your hand. "Hey ho, here we go, yo!", you sing into his flesh stick like it's a microphone, before... boom! You slam that happy package right on down your gob hole! Your head smacking back and forth like your headbanging to a heavy metal track. Your throat is making noises like a fucking plunger making hard work out of a toilet or some shit. Like gluh, ung, gug, guh, glug, guh, guh, guh, gug, gluh, ug, ugh, glug... ... guh, gluh, uh, ugh. You had to stop in the middle there to take a little breath. You are human after all.

Anyway your smashing his trouser snake and shit and he fucking loves it and all that and he is like "yeah, yeah, ooh, fuckin' yeah" and shit. Drool is all puddling on the floor beneath you and all that and like splashing all over the place, you know. Like, step off Shamoo, people need to be careful of MY splash zone! And you like grab the shaft in one hand and the balls in the other and stuff and your like working it like that. Your tongue giving it the biggun on his nut balls. Like slip, slop, lollipop mother fucker. Better tongue action than a fucking ant eater. You pushing your tongue down his urethra and give a good old lick all up in there. Then you start slurping on that junk like a fucking kid trying to get the last of their slushy. And his eyes are popping out his head and shit and he's like "Holy shit balls, joker this is a damn acceptable level blow jay." And you like slap it on your forehead and shit and like maybe prod yourself in the eye with it a bit, I dunno. And you like slap it and he looks at you like "uh okay, I s’pose" and then you slap it again because fuck it. And back in the face opening it goes. Plunger noise returns. And he maybe grabs your hair or maybe not, maybe if you're into that and you're not but maybe you are. And he is all like, "I'm going to do a cum" and you're like "pardon?" And he's like "I'm going to do a cum" and you're like, "sorry what?" And he's like "I'm going to..." and you stop sucking and are like, "I'm so sorry, I can't hear you over the racket". He's like, "ever so sorry, I was just letting you know, I was going to do a bit of a cum" and you're like, "Right you are, Sonny Jim" and stick his whoopsie back in your cock pocket of a mouth. Then all of a sudden, without any warning whatsoever, *pew, pew* he does a bit of a cum in your throat making you gag. Then like a fucking fireman's house, white spaff juice sprays out of the end sending you flying backwards as he drenches you with his load. Like DRENCHES you. When he is done, you pull a hanky from your pocket and wipe the corners of your mouth. You have some class after all.

You get to your feet and walk back over to him, a twinkle in your pink eye.

"Thanks Joker, that was okay, I really fuckin' needed that".

You blush slightly and lean in for a kiss. As your faces connect you take his lip in between your teeth and hold it there. You hold it there until you feel it go slack in your grasp, until his eye's glaze over and then you pull out the knife you had plunged into his throat, his blood starting to gush over you. His body goes limp and falls to the floor with a thud. The vibration knocks Lucille from her perch and she falls across his slumped body. You wipe the blood from the knife on your shirt and place it back through your belt, behind your back. You had finally got what you had come for and you didn't care what it took to get it. You didn't fear the walking dead but you did fear what someone might do to you if they found you like this so you decide it best to head off. You step over Negan's lifeless body and start your walk home. After all, people will be waking up soon and it's a long walk back to Alexandria.

... oh yeah! You sing "I'm a slave to your games. I'm just a sucker for pain" as you walk off or something.

[camelely]

13rw S4 Fix

 So i did one of these for last season and I think now that I’ve had some time to think about S4 I’ll do the same. While last season I thought the issue was one character being overused. But here it seems like there were multiple smaller things that could have improved the whole season Again I’m keeping the same basic plotline and characters :) 

1) Winston 

Have Winston stay at Hillcrest. Him moving to Liberty did nothing for the main plot and he was basically a red herring through most of it. Let him try are befriend the characters from the outside. He can learn about Jess from Bryce’s trial and the news coverage and then try to befriend her at Monet’s. This is where he meets and later starts to date Alex. Since he doesn’t go to liberty school Alex sees him as a sort of escape and lets him in. Clay and Ani dont tell everyone about him because they dont know he is trying to get close to them. It makes them seem less like assholes and more like people. They don’t mention his connection to Monty because they dont realize how close he is getting to answers. Clay can still suspect he did the graffiti, after all it was a break in and a non student could have done that. Plus Estella is another red herring in the school. She serves that purpose so let Winston be the outsider looking in. His arc would still be about knowing a different Monty and not knowing who is was at Liberty but now he is literally the outsider who didn’t really get Monty, rather than it just being a figurative thing at the prom. You can still have the prom scene it would just be entirely imagined rather than the half imagined thing they went with. I think they overused the people talking to ghosts thing so here it would be a  fantasy of Monty and the relationship they had rather then a representation of what could have been. However I don’t think this would have retracted from the point. Also play him up, he is a sympathetic antagonist and it sucks how much he is sidelined for Diego. I didn’t hate Diego but Winston and him basically went through the same arc. They were pro Monty and ending up dating a member of the group, couldnt believe that member was involved and then learned something about Bryce and Monty agreed to move on and just did. All while saying they will alway care for that member of the group. It was an unnecessary rehash. Having WInston be the outsider looking in and Diego the insider looking out also lets their characters compliment each other. They should still work together, just have Winston contact him looking for Monty’s friends. It’s simple. 

2) Tyler and Tony 

Oh Tyler. The character who seems to be in the middle of everything despite never doing anything himself. I didn’t mind his arc of helping the cops find the guys who sold the illegal guns. But Tony’s suspicions, eventually leading to Clay and Tony finding out the truth and just moving on never really go anywhere. I think  it would be cool if Tyler tells Tony, despite the cops telling him not to tell anyone, because he trusts Tony. But Tony, who has had bad run ins with the cops, thinks it is a bad idea. He doesn’t want Tyler taking the deal. Tyler says its the only way the guns wont be traced back to them but Tony thinks teh cops are planning to double cross them to mind out more about Bryce and Monty. At the same time he starts getting close to that cop that takes him boxing and helps him get into college (i dont remember his name for the life of me lol). Tyler sees this as being hypocritical and pulls away. Tony still suspects Tyler is behind the lock down because he is pulling away and Tony is getting paranoid. The rest of their story can still be the same but this way they can show Tony’s paranoia and his loyalty. 

As for Tyler and Estella, It was fine. The scene of them in the bathroom was really powerful, being in the bathroom with a de la cruz and becoming comfortable because isnt her brother was really nice. This could even be another reason Tony and Tyler fight. Tony can be paranoid that Tyler is trusting her too quickly and think she will turn on him. 

3) Jess

Her arc with the principal, being scared and agreeing with the security measures before she sees them in action was really interesting. Focus more on it and less on her manipulating Diego. I did like parts of that arc for her so I don’t want it completely gone but I do think focusing on her working with the principal would have been cool. I would call more attention to her first meeting and her agreeing with the measures and slowly show her change her mind and start to turn against them. Maybe even have an early scene of her and ANi talking about it and have Jess admit she feels safer. Move the creepy cop trying to pat her down to the second or third day. So she can have a moment where they make her feel safe before the negative experience. I loved the protest and a bit better build up would have made it amazing

Her arc with Ani. They fought over Bryce... It should have been a conversation. Not a moment where Ani judges Diego and then they argue. I still think this arc should have been Chloe and Jess and should have been in last season. But they had the opportunity to include Chloe this season and just didnt. I’ll talk about this a bit more in the Zach section but I think Chloe should have been at Prom and the moment between the Ani Jess and Chloe should have been then. It would be right after Jess and Ani made up and would have been cool. 

I don’t think she should have had scenes where she saw and talked to Bryce. Yes it created some powerful moments but they could be reworked. Have WInston use his wealth to commission a positive thing in the paper about Bryce and Monty and have her talk to his idealized photo of Bryce. I will mention it in the Clay section but her hallucinations detracted from his journey with mental health. 

4) Clay

Okay two thing here the first is his arc with mental health, hallucinations, and blackouts. They used it for drama and I wish they hadnt. It should have been about him healing. I didnt mind the way they handled the realization for clay that it was him doing everything (Did they explain the symbol he kept drawing because I missed it if they did? or i just forgot because it was that forgettable lol) but I think the whole thing could have been handled a lot better and a more educated fan then I can provide a better explanation for what exactly was off about it. I will say the the therapy sessions were repetitive and I know thats realistic but for a tv show its boring. The scene were Clay goes to his home was weird and low key scary. I understand the purpose but  I wish he had called him and asked to meet at his office instead. A more likable and relatable journey for Clay with his mental health would be really good for a show that was accused of glorying suicide (personally i dont think it did. My inbox is open if you wanna talk though :))

The second thing is the phantom phone caller. I hate this trope so it might just be me but this is so stale. There are exactly two ways it could go. The person could know everything and be a real problem or the person could be fishing for information and not be a real problem. The whole thing was predicable since Winston had red herring written all over him, Estella was barely developed, and on this show it is always the football guys. Instead let the pranks be smaller and less crazy. Like these boys had to coordinate a lot to mess with Clay. There should be more than one prank and end with a Monty doll and Clay holding a knife to set up the camp episode. But they should be pranks, not the phantom caller psychological torture bs. The blood shower can also happen just on a different day. Clay can be confused about what is real and what isnt making him even more worried about his blackouts and again assuming the mental health arc is handled well, the pranks can be a real part of it. Dumping him in the pit on the camping trip also seemed kinda attempted murdery so maybe do something like tie him to a tree of the path or in a small dirt ditch not a rocky pit where if he hit his head or fell weird the team would all be murderers. 

5) Alex

His arc with Charlie was one of my favorite stories this season. I was also not bothered by him getting close to and exploring his sexuality with Winston and Zach. I’m in the minority but I’m glad Zalex wasn’t made canon and Zach was used to be an effective (kinda) ally and good friend. Plus this way Zalex can live on in the fandom untouched or ruined by the writers interpretation. 

They should have given us Alex in therapy. He tried to kill himself had a traumatic injury, an arc with steroid abuse, and an arc about killing someone. All of which were forgotten this season. All the other characters seemed to be dealing with Bryce and Monty, why not focus on Alex? Even if it isnt in therapy just let him exist in his feelings.

6) Zach

I have one major issue with Zach’s arc, the lack of Chloe. She was the reason he almost killed a man. Let them date, let him start to spiral while dating her. She doesnt know what he did. Have them grow apart on screen but her still connecting to him and not wanting to give up on him. They should go to prom together. I know the hooker was supposed to represent Zach turning into Bryce with the hookers and the drunken sex/potential rape  and cocaine. But Chloe fills the same comparison. He brings cocaine she is not okay with it, He tries to convince her to have sex in the back she is not having it. Maybe he tries to convince maybe it becomes a bit worse than that but she breaks up with him at prom and leaves early. She sees Bryce in him, she doesnt have to say it but you can see it on her face and she walks away when her mind and heart tells her to this time no making excuses. Boom Chloe actually has an arc. As for Zach this is a big wake up call for him he sees what we had become. I know it is later in the actual show but I think it should be in the prom episode so he can have a better conclusion in the finale, like the other characters. The whole season was a downward spiral and I wish we got to see more of him pulling himself out of it. If the whole finale is him getting better even though he wont be all the way done he will be in a better place up the end.

7) Justin

Okay the hard one. I think the writers really wanted to kill him. I mean a fan favorite, who did bad things, and the death would be in the series finale. this is a tv writer’s drug of choice. So I’m gonna do a fix where I still kill him first then to the ideal version. Ok so first Justin dies. No HIV/AIDS. It was out of nowhere, unneeded, and seemed a bit insensitive. If you want it to be related to his drug use, make it so he got a bad batch when he relapsed. Or maybe organ failure. If it doens’t need to be drug related it can be an accident or someone he knew on the streets getting revenge, like that drug dealer we spent time with last season. Or if Justin helps Tyler put the gun salesmen behind bars then have it be retaliation for that. He can still go to the hospital and have goodbyes but it wont be an aids diagnosis and death in the same episode. I know they had signs in earlier episodes but the timeline is still really fucked up...

An ideal ending would have him live. He can still pass out at Prom. The diagnosis can be a combination of stress and withdrawal symptoms.He can be the red herring for the person in the coffin. If Justin lives he can represent hope. He can show the audience that you can get better and things can work out. Even if you are sick and think you will die you can do better be better and live in a better world. Plus I love him and really wanted him to be happy. The message would be you can get out of a bad situation and wold have ended a sad series on a positive note. Even if you are a bad person. Even if you have bad circumstance. Even if it feels like the world is against you, it can get better if you put in the effort. Which felt like the message the show was going for in eariler seasons by showing the people on the tapes doing better but abandoned this last season.

So who would I put in the coffin. Ani’s mom. Now I know she wasn’t a well liked character and her mom wouldn’t have the same audience or character reaction Justin’s death did. But this version isn’t about making the audience sad. Ani would finally have a plot that was really about her, her mom died, Bryce’s mom basically wants to provide for her. And she isn’t sure what to do. Justins funeral felt like it was overshadowed by graduation anyway. Now Ani’s moms absence and the funeral being overshadowed both make sense. She is going to college and doing what she can to honor her mom. And the death of a parent causes Clay to immediately appreciate his own family more. The theme in the first season with Clay was appreciating and acting on his feelings for Hannah before she was gone. Ani’s mom dying is a reality check for him and he know the most important things are his family and friends. Justin’s arc was about finding a family and he did. The core of the show is about family, friends, and the importance of  a strong support system. And starting it with a mother grieving her daughter and ending it with a daughter grieving her mother would be a cool full circle moment.

This post is really long so if you read all the way down Thank you! :) 

[pathetic-has-been-rockstar]

The bonfire surprise

Pairing: Crowley x reader

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo​

Square/s filled: Chestnuts; Sitting by the fire

Warnings: none

Summary: still set to enjoy every bit of winter and holiday traditions, you decide to bring Jack to pick up chestnuts. Crowley joins you on the most innocuous hunt of the year, bringing Juliet along to spice things up. Roasting chestnuts on Hellfire never looked so good.

Words: 3091

Beta: @raspberrymama​ (I’ll never say this enough: check out her works!)

this piece can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

“So... are you coming or not?”

Crowley tilts his head a bit, then nods, looking at you. “You know... yes. Since we've been consistently saving this world, it would be nice to take a walk in it.”

You were surprised when he decided to stick around for Christmas, or at least until the brothers don't actively start to try and kill him. He declared he enjoys the mayhem he can create frustrating Christmas' plans, but you suspect that he's probably just bored by his temporary lack of employment. You give him a small nod.

“Precisely what I was thinking.”

“Great. Now... aren't you forgetting something?”

You run a quick mind inventory, but nothing seems to be missing. “... like what?”

“Like the kid?” Crowley suggests, falsely helpful.

“... oh, no. Jack's in the car from like ten minutes. He can't wait to go.”

Crowley sighs dramatically. “Oh, to be young and eager again. Is it far?”

“About twenty minutes from here... why don't you come with us? You can try and crush Jack's optimism while we go.”

“I can do it on site. I've got someone to pick up, if it's all the same to you.”

“Oh... sure. Of course.” You are slightly curious and, even if you would never admit it, slightly disappointed. You were hoping for some time with Crowley, but he seems to have framed the occasion like a good chance to do... well, anything else.

“Fantastic. I'll see you there.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, Jack?”, you answer after a second, emerging from your thoughts.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You are just very quiet.”

“I'm just... a bit tired, you know.” Of course you were quiet. You're dying to see who was so important that had to be picked up and brought to what feels like a family thing.

“Sure. So... how's it gonna be?”

Surprised, you throw a side glance at Jack. The kid is smart. “As it's always been, I guess. Why?”

“I've never picked up chestnuts.”

Of course. Of course it was about the chestnuts. You stammer a moment, trying to collect yourself. “Oh, it's fun, actually. You just have to watch out for the shells, actually. They're spikey, y'know. You put on your gloves, then we pick them up from the ground,and  check if there are holes in them. If they're whole we can put them in the baskets.”

“What if there's a hole?”

“Well, that means there's a worm inside. It's not a problem if you accidentally eat it, since it's basically lived inside the thing its whole life and it tastes like that, but... let's just try and avoid it, ok?”

“Sure. No point in killing it just because it's in the wrong place at the right moment.”

You smile, surprised by the tenderness of his heart. The whole argument about his nature before he was born it feels incredibly stupid, now. The kid doesn't even want to kill a worm.

“Precisely. Besides, it might mean that the thing is rotting, and we don't want to deal with the consequences of eating spoilt food. Why don't you put on some music?”

Jack literally beams at the idea. “Can I connect my phone?”

“Sure thing, kid. We have about half an hour to go, connect the Bluetooth and jam away.”

The rest of the ride consists mainly in Jack humming Christmas songs and weird covers of them, while you keep your eyes on the road and occasionally sing along with him.

Once you get there, you immediately spot Crowley. Seeing that he's alone, you tilt your head.

“Weren't you supposed to pick up someone?”

“I did.”

He whistles, and a second later two hellhounds appear next to him, wagging their tails. He smiles at you, clearly satisfied by your surprised expression.

“I'm confident you remember Juliet and Banquo.”

“I do. How... how can I see them?”

“Because I let you.”

“... oh. Thanks, I guess.”

Crowley hints at them with a swift nod. “Go ahead, touch them. I know you'd like to.”

Trying to play it cool, you kneel down and pat the head of Juliet. A second later, Banquo is rubbing his head against your arm, almost throwing you off balance. Crowley immediately notices.

“Banquo. Settle down, boy.”

The hound whimpers and draws back, immediately obeying Crowley, who gives you a satisfied look.

“I trained them myself.”

“I figured that much.” you fire back. Like anyone else could train those hounds to act like that.

You're distracted by Jack calling you. You turn and you see the bundle of scarf, hat and oversized sport coat wandering among the trees and picking up the burrs, only to let them fall again as soon as they sting him. Crowley raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Looks like the most powerful being in existence needs help with picking up some fruit from the ground.”

“... he's three years old.”

“They grow so fast, don't they?”

You turn your back to Crowley and walk to Jack. Juliet and Banquo run around, sniffing the leaves and acting mostly like normal dogs. You notice that, and turn to Crowley, who's been casually waddling around, following you and Jack.

“Why are they like these?”

“What do you mean?”

“They act like normal dogs.”

“They like topside.”

“Don't they have souls to collect, today?”

“They always do.” Crowley replies with a casual scroll of his shoulders.

“Then why are they here?”

“There are other hounds, you know. These two were just the most affectionate to me. In short, useless to dear mother, and very useful for my personal security.”

Of course, you don't know why they're there. You're not a hunter, after all, not in the truest meaning of the word. You've been dragged in there when you ran into Bobby, years earlier, trying to nick a book from your shop. You gave him the book in exchange for some explanations, and it turned out your years of eccentric reading made you pretty useful.

Bobby then started to call you for lore-related things, and it was only a matter of time before the hunters started to use your shop as a sort of base. You started to store magical items, too, and even faced a few monsters on your own. Not exactly your cup of tea, but fun. Crowley knows about this all, obviously. Everyone knows about it. His dogs are there because you are there. The idea of a human dear both to the king of Hell and the future God might inspire some unpleasant thoughts in rogue demons and monsters, so he doesn't want to take any unnecessary risk.

You only see the hounds sprinting away, running after a very lucky squirrel. The little rodent manages to climb up the bark of the chestnut tree just in time, escaping the fangs of the hellish beasts for a split hair. Crowley giggles happily next to you, apparently delighted.

“The dislike for squirrels must run in the family.”

“Yeah... Jack, honey, wait, no.”

Jack has started to climb on the tree, trying to reach the lowest branches, that are still a good seven feet above the ground. He really is a three years old sometimes, but you keep forgetting that. When he falls back on you, you are painfully reminded that he is a three years old in a fully adult body.

Before Jack can do it, Crowley helps you up, smirking.

“Everything fine, love?”

“Yeah, peachy.”

He chuckles and takes a dried leaf off your hair, then gives you an amused smile.

“Looks like you're enjoying yourselves, at least.”

Jack enthusiastically answers for you, then dashes away to inspect a new patch of dried leaves and fallen burrs. When climbing up the trees is finally off the table, you three keep walking in the woods and picking up chestnuts here and there until the baskets are full. You look at your clock, starting to feel the cold seeping through your clothes.

“We still have a couple of hours of good light left. Let's go back to the car, we'll make a fire there.”

“... a fire? What for?”

“Well, we... you know what? It's a surprise. Come on, let's go back.”

Jack smiles in excitement, then slows down, looking at you and Crowley. You walk closer than you did earlier, and you don't even seem to notice how the back of your hands touch while you walk. He's seen Dean and Castiel subconsciously trying to get closer just like that. He might be young, but he's learnt quite a lot about love and longing, and he's quite sure that he has a fine example of both lying right in front of him. He also has an idea about how to make that happen, even if he will have to wait until you return to the bunker.

When the three of you make it back to the clearing where you parked the car, you start looking around for some logs and branches to set the fire. You have some water and a couple of old newspapers in the car, so safety and the ignition are accounted for. You're still scouring the clearing through the growing darkness when Crowley clears his throat. You turn to him, expecting him to mock you for not having figured it before.

“... what?”

“I assume you're looking for something to start the fire.”

“Well, duh.”

He scoffs, not taking seriously your remark, and raises his hand, “Perhaps I could be of assistance. You know... hellfire and all that.”

“Oh, I... I didn't think of it.”

“I figured that much”, he echoes the words you spat at him earlier in a much gentler tone. You almost feel bad for treating him harshly, but you just can't help it. There's something about him and the way he treats you that makes you feel... uneasy, for some reason.

Crowley knows you well, by now, but he still hasn't found a way to unravel you completely. He was content when you sought him out in your sleep. You slipped through the sheets and held him, just like you did a few years ago, and you seemed pretty happy about it. You wanted to be close to him... and yet you seem very bothered by his presence, at times. Of course, this only makes him all the more curious to find out the key to decipher your weirdness. He doesn't like pending business, and you certainly are acting like one.

With a snap of his fingers, a bright fire starts burning a few yards away from the car, complete with a few logs to sit around it, and you look at it, fascinated like a child. Juliet and Banquo immediately recognize the nature of the flames, and go to quietly lie down next to them.

You start laughing and walk to the car, taking the castiron skillet and a couple of knives.

“What, no knife for me?”

You jump, surprised. He's definitely closer than where you left him, and you didn't hear him approach.

“Stop moving so quietly! I'll tie a bell around your neck.”

“Oooh, my own collar? Kinky. I might like that.”

You thank the darkness and the dancing lights cast by the open flames for hiding the redness creeping up your cheeks. You grab a third knife, flip it and offer the handle to Crowley.

“You know how to do it, right?”

“Love, I am a demon, not a moron.”

“Eh. Sometimes you can be both.”

He rolls his eyes, only mildly annoyed. “Care to make an example or do I have to take your insults at face value?”

You would like to answer, but your throat closes. The thought of that day in the Apocalypse world is etched in your mind, and you don't like to think about it. Luckily, you catch Jack getting close to the hounds with the clear intention of petting them, so you're spared from answering. You dash to him, worried.

“Jack, don't!”

Jack immediately takes a step back and looks at you, confused. “But they look so cute!”

“Yeah, but those are not fluffy animals. Those are killing machines, and...”

“And they're trained to behave around people who mean no harm to me. Go ahead, boy. They like scratches on their heads.” Crowley encourages Jack.

You survey carefully the scene, ready to spring into action, but Crowley was telling the truth. A minute later, Jack is sitting on the ground, scratching Juliet's head with a hand, and patting Banquo with the other, looking happier than ever.

“You think Dean will let us keep on in the bunker?”

You think about it for a second. There's not a strong enough word in any human language to express the way Dean would refuse the idea of a hellhound loose in the bunker. Hearing Crowley chuckle next to you, you're sure that he's thinking the exact same thing.

“I... I don't think so, Jack.” Jack nods, trusting your judgement, and looks at you.

“Right. So... what do I do with the knife?”

You sit down on the log next to his one and teach him how to lightly carve the smooth shell of the fruit with a X, so that it doesn't swell and bash while it cooks. When you prepare enough for the three of you, you pour them in the pan and set it on the fire, shaking it from time to time to ensure an even cooking.

Jack notices that your movements are steady, and studies you for a moment. “So... is it a Christmas tradition?”

“It’s more of a winter thing, not just Christmas,” you answer, “I used to go picking chestnuts with my grandfather, from November through December. Then we would cook them on this big open fire in the backyard of his country house. Not a fancy one, though. He was a farmer, so it was one of those old houses full of tools and handmade stuff. I really liked that place.”

“I bet it was amazing.”

You think about it for a moment. “You know what? It really was. And they kept loads of animals, too. He and my grandma would do everything at home, from scratch.”

You start telling Jack things you've never told anyone since you moved and started your new life. Meanwhile, you keep your eyes on the chestnuts, taking them out of fire when they're done.

You pick some pages from the old newspapers and roll three cones, then pour the hot roasted fruit in them. You offer one to Jack, and one to Crowley, who looks surprised.

“... for me?”

“Yes. I know you don't eat, but...”

He takes the cone from your hands, smiling.

“I still like the taste. Thanks, love. Very thoughtful of you.”

“Shut up”, you mutter, but you're smiling.

Jack encourages you to tell more stories about your family, and you hear the crunching noises coming from him slowing down progressively. When you look at him again, on the other side of the flames, you see him dozing off, still nestled between Juliet and Banquo.

You smile and throw your paper cone filled with discarded skins in the fire, watching it crackle, then reach out, trying to warm your hands. The air is cold, and it's totally dark around you, despite being only four p.m. You think about what you just told Jack, and a sting of nostalgia catches you by surprise.

You quickly blink a couple of times, hoping to chase those unexpected tears away, but you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you alright, kitten?”

You almost forgot about Crowley. Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything while you were telling your stories to Jack, but you don’t suspect he listened to every word you said. “I... yes. Just... I haven't thought about those things for a very long time. I... I'm just being stupid.”

“Oh, love. Don't. Actually, you made me remember a few things about my winters as a human.”

“... really?” You think you couldn't be more surprised, but you're wrong. Your amazement hits its peak when Crowley starts telling you about old Scottish traditions, and his experiences with them.

After a few minutes of chatting, you shiver, and inch closer to him. He doesn't move away, instead he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“I suspect you like me just as a heather, love” he purrs right beside your ear.

“Who says I like you?”

You both laugh and stay quiet, enjoying the cold air, the warmth of the fire and the smell of smoke and roasted chestnuts filling the air for a while. You close your eyes for a moment, laying your head back on his shoulder. His cologne and the hint of sulphur hidden behind it always made you feel safe, and now that things are so different from what they were, you aren't even plagued by the question anymore. The ever-present question of what was going to come next, what was going to happen... how you’d lose him.

You sigh and open your eyes, looking at Jack, then move away from Crowley.

“You know... we should go back. It's dark, and I'm sure they're wondering where we are.”

“... I'll bring back the puppies and see you there, if it's fine with you.”

“It... it is. More than fine, actually.”

He brushes your hand, and you feel his warmth through your glove, then look at him while he speaks.

“Thanks for sharing those memories, love. I know they were for the kid, but... it was nice to hear them.”

“Actually… I'm glad you were here.”

For a moment, both of you stay still. You feel your heart beating faster when you look at him. The way the fire underlines his features, the sheer intensity of his gaze force you to shiver, despite being comfortable and warm. Crowley looks at you and can’t hold back a smile. It might be the moment he was waiting for.

Instead, suddenly panicking, you stand up quickly, feeling your usual shield going up again. You can't be too vulnerable around him, after all. And Jack… you must bring him back. You didn’t come all that way just to get all lovey-dovey with the former king of Hell. “Well, I'll see you back at the bunker.”

“Right. See you there.” Crowley mutters through his teeth and notices the sudden shift in your behaviour. He wonders if his efforts still make sense. Then, he watches you waking up Jack and talking softly to him, petting the hounds and making sure everything is fine, and he knows he just has to be a bit more patient.

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Thank you for reading! 

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost or copy my works or part/s of it, not even if you give credits.

[a-student-out-of-time]

Connections Review Part 1

Happy 2021 everyone! Well…the year’s off to a terrible start due to how bad last year was but I hope that most of 2021 will be good and not be 2020 Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. But enough of that, another arc ended, another review due. Now I am quite conscious of length here and I’ll try to make these reviews a bit easier to read, it will still be split into 3 parts as there I can cover the main themes which are; Time Travel, Harems and Maverick ‘Motherfucker Hellspawn’ Storm. My initial plan was to have a quick lightening recap of everything that doesn’t fit into these categories and then review the Time Travelling and Harems but Storm became so big he needed his own part. Oh, and it should go without saying, but I will not cover the Mistletoe Asks. They are not relevant to the arc and are basically shipping fluff. No in-depth analysis required there. And with that said and done, let’s get right into it.

Its Recap time

So, as I mentioned before we get into the 3 big themes of this arc, I’ll cover really quick, and I promise it will be really quick here, anything that doesn’t fit into those categories. So firstly, we see that Kazuichi went around the Void Warehouse and helped fix their lights. Now that all of Class 77-B are aware of Void’s existence, they can help out with any problems they might have in their living quarters, which leads to a funny scene of Kazuichi getting attacked by a crow. This could be random but given what has happened with another seemly random event (more on that later) and the fact that Monocrow exists, this could be sinister foreshadowing for things yet to come. We also see Kazuichi getting ideas to build a robot with Chihiro as that’s his way of romance. Given Chihiro’s crossdressing tendencies, I wonder when the truth comes out and how confused our shark boy would be. But yeah, Kazuichi out all of the new Class 77-B members seems to have the most focus in this arc, not that I’m complaining as he was the most ‘pointless’ survivor from DR2 so him getting actual character development and focus I’m more then welcome for! There’s also Yoruko rekindling her relationship with her mentor Minako. This went better than expected then again it happened years ago, both Yoruko and Minako had time to reflect on it and both wanted to make up, but thought the other wouldn’t accept it. We also see some parallels here with Hiroko from UDG as Kizuna is revealed to be the result of a teenage pregnancy. As I mentioned in an ask, not to bog you down with personal details but teenage pregnancy is a serious problem where I live and too many people I know fucked as teens, didn’t use protection, and boom! Babies! Good thing I have a passion for Danganronpa so I DON’T get wrapped up in that kind of stuff eh? So, I completely understand Minako’s rational here, and Kizuna’s more troublesome behaviour as one of my RL friends was also the result of a teen pregnancy, and this led to her having…issues. And yeah, Kizuna shamelessly flirts with the Anons and talks about Josuke, no not THAT Josuke, simping hard for her. Naturally we have bigger problems to content with but once the weather calms down, we need to sort out Kizuna, especially now that Yoruko and Minako have made up. And that’s the two things that happened which weren’t relevant to the main themes. Now they are out of the way, time to move onto Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff. Hey, Emma made a Doctor Who joke already, so it’s okay!

Back to the Visions

Despite Time Travel being one of the main themes of this blog, not a lot of research has gone into it at the moment, so in this wind down time, it’s the perfect time for Umeko to do some experiments into time travel. Last Arc dropped the reveal that Mikako has being getting dreams of the future, and as Koroko and Umeko pull up at the Kisurugi household, we see that Mikako just had a dream of the Tragedy, which understandably horrified her. Because of this Umeko and Koroko were forced to tell Mikako, Yamato and his father the truth about the future. They omitted Kasugano and him changing the timelines as its not needed but well…when one dreams of an apocalyptic future you know is coming, there’s no sense in lying about it. Umeko then explains about the time travel and basically that since the brain surgery, Mikako’s brain has become a tachyon receiver that can pick up tachyon from different timelines, not just the one you are on. But it goes beyond being able to see the future via her dreams as if Mikako focuses, and someone touches Mikako during this time, they are hit with a vision of the future that involves them. The first vision was with Koroko and she caught a glimpse into a future much more distant then the 2017 that Hajime, Yoruko, Sora and the other 2 time travellers came from, as it seems to be from the Year 2020-2022 so pretty close to our time then. Here Koroko and Kanata, who not only went through a growth spurt like Hiyoko (Poor Hibiki, she is forever going to be the short one) and has married Nagito, are giving vaccinations to a young girl named Sayuri Hinata. Sayuri herself is very familiar to some people as during the last Arc when Akane was trying to comfort Nikei, one Anon asked about a timeline where she and Ayame had a child. This was a reference to Nextgenronpa which is a Nextgen AU on Instagram created by Mikwithnoando, if you happen to have an Instagram account, I highly recommend reading it, it’s really good! The character in question is called Sayuri Otonokoji the Ultimate Sculptor and in Nextgenronpa she’s the child of Hibiki and Iroha. Koroko looking through her medical records noticed her mother’s name is Hibiki Hinata so Hibiki obviously changed her last name, makes sense as she wants to probably be as far away from Otonokoji as possible now but no mention of the father and yes Sayuri looks a lot like Iroha. This has a few possibilities.

The first theory is that Sayuri is Hibiki and Hajime’s child, but both are very busy. Hibiki would have very likely restarted her musical career around this time and we don’t know what Hajime would be doing but he would be very busy as well, and thus not a lot of time to raise Sayuri. Now Iroha would have a very sedimentary lifestyle and given she is looking after Jataro at the moment, this would probably make Iroha one of the more experienced caretakers/mothers of the cast, so maybe Sayuri was often babysat by Iroha, and if Sayuri was spending a lot of time with Iroha at a young age, she would start to view Iroha as a second mother and start copying her behaviour and mannerisms. But that doesn’t evade the fact that Sayuri PHYSICALLY looks like Iroha as well. The second theory is something happens to Hibiki or Hajime and they are unable to reproduce but want kids. With Kyoji, making kids would not be an issue, but a surrogate mother would be required and maybe Iroha volunteered to be a surrogate. However, the big issue there is that Iroha is much younger than the Goodbye Despair cast, and as Mikan later points out legally, you need to be 21 to be eligible. Sayuri looking to be 8-10 years old means Hibiki and Hajime must have banged around now-2014 and Iroha won’t turn 21 until 2017 and Sayuri looks way older than 3-5 years old. But there is one more theory and the one I believe in. Just because Mikako can see the future, doesn’t mean it’s the timeline we are currently on, and you guys remember that awful, awful period during Oncoming Storm when Iroha was crushing on Hajime and wanted to join the Cuddle Puddle despite there being a significant age gap between him and Iroha? In our timeline, Yoruko was able to slap some sense into Hajime, he was able to see he was developing a Saviour’s complex and was able to grow and develop, and it also system shocked Iroha as well as she learnt that she needed to grow up as well. But what if that didn’t happen? I think that timeline is from one when the sense slapping didn’t happen and Iroha did wind up being part of the Cuddle Puddle, and Sayuri was the result of science from Kyoji and Iroha and Hibiki wanting kids. In addition to this we also see Kotoko in her teen years and she looks brilliant all grown up and the way she talked about ‘our mothers’ and Sayuri referring to Kotoko as a big sister, makes one believe that Mikan is successful in adopting Kotoko. Overall, while Sayuri is going to be a headache to decode, that future was nice and sweet, even if it gave Mikako mild seizures.

After Mikako recovered, Yamato wanted to see the future as well, and thus we get the second vision which is from the OG Timeline in 2014, as it shows some Class 79 tomfoolery with Haruhiko ‘testing’ Yamato’s jetpack and crashing into a tree, and Teruya being concerned for his bro. I know its 2014 because Class 79 was formed then and they didn’t bond for long before Utsuro showed up with an army of Monokumas and was like ‘Knock knock, it’s the upupupu train’ and we get the Proto Killing Game. At least Yamato gets to see his future friends for the first time. And Mikako doesn’t get that much of a headache this time so it seems that the further in time she looks, the bigger the side effects. The first vision was a decade into the future so the side effects were quite big but the second one was only a couple of years so the effects were reduced.  It remains uncertain if Mikako has to trust the person in question for the vision link to be done because as much of a force of good this seer ability is, it can also be used for evil. Overall, lots of discoveries on Mikako’s abilities and some hope that not every future out there is filled with despair and there exists a timeline where the Quantum Crew do win. Now it’s a case of seeing if that’s the timeline they are on or not.

That summarizes part 1 with the recapping of minor details and the time travelling science! It’s a longer part then I wanted but with the recap at the beginning it cannot be helped. When we come back, I’ll talk about the Harems and the events surrounding them and hopefully that would be the new length I wish to aim for because this is more of my old length. Stay tuned people! - Review Anon

[whimsywit]

Could I get a bnha student matchup please? I love how you write them! I'm an introverted bisexual girl with a libra sun and aries moon+rising and my love language is physical touch (I'm the type of person to not go 10 mins without hugging my s/o lol). My hobbies are trying new things, embroidery, baking, learning about baking history and watching horror movies. I like doodling, cryptids, sunshine, adventures, road trips, dancing badly in my room, fashion, fashion history, and the colour pink. I love art so, so much in all its forms even though I dont do it often/am not great at it lol. I dont like being around kids/babies for extended periods of time, following recipes exactly or republicans. Benefits of dating me are that I'm non judgemental, really hard to embarrass, and it's easy to make me laugh. Downsides of dating me are: I'm indecisive, a little detached from reality sometimes, and I couldn't care less if your family likes me (I'm still nice and polite! But I prob wont like them and will try to avoid them). My talents are that I have a good fashion and interior design sense and I know a lot about cryptids and the paranormal. My fears are: the dark, being the last person left alive on earth, and loosing my grip on reality. My aspirations are to move somewhere warm by the sea and own a citrus tree, I would also like to hold peoples hands and make them laugh. Qualities I admire in others are: KINDNESS, humor, confidence/ not caring what other people think, liking fashion (or at least appreciating when other people have good fashion), and being able to do math. Qualities I avoid in others are: being rude/mean without reason, bragging or complaining constantly, and people who get jealous easily. My extra info is that people usually describe me as confident, a little intimidating, and artsy. Thank you so much! Sorry I wrote a whole novel in your ask box! 💛💛

anon NEVER apologize for writing too much i love all of it!! You’re such a peach and sound so cool to be around 🥰 Hopefully I’m right with this, but I think you’d have the overall the best relationship with...

Toru Hagakure!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED GIRL if there ever was one, shame on you fan artists and writers!! You and Toru would instantly be connected at the hip since you share all the same hobbies, especially in the fashion department. She’s so glad there’s finally someone she doesn’t have to drag along shopping with her, and you guys endlessly share tips and opinions and create looks on looks on LEWQS!

It’s good that it’s you don’t get embarrassed, because being around Toru and her naked-half-the-time-self is gonna test those limits. She’s confident enough to use her abilities at a moment’s notice, and ends up making fun of the whole situation which is just a ball of laughs for you!

Not only does she love that she can laugh with you while other’s have always judged her for her... uh, methods, she cherishes how artsy you are, and indulges in your talents all the time by asking questions and taking commissions and everything! Despite what most might think, she would likely end up getting into the paranormal same as you—I mean Toru’s basically a cryptid in and of herself, it’s a match made in heaven.

Oh god, actually, don’t get me started, holy jeez she’s a Gemini, and as a twin sign myself, I can certify Geminis and Libras are one of the true soulmate pairs of the zodiac. They’re both so open and sociable and have so many shared interests that there’s never a dull moment between them! I don’t even know how to phrase things, there’s so much going on in there, I’m envious of your match I NEED me a good Libra 😭😭

The only difficulty that would come up is Toru is a bit of an airhead as well, and you two have moments where you float away with all your ideas. But once she knows about your concerns with it, she’ll do a 180° and try to help keep you grounded as best as you can. Actually, it’s something you can both learn together, grow to be more mindful for the sake of the other and ground them when needed. The toughest obstacle might end up being the strongest glue between you <3

Toru more than makes up for that fault in other areas though! Least to say she’s quite opinionated, and won’t hesitate to make decisions for you in your uncertain moments. Her bubbly disposition will never leave you wanting in affection, and just like you she dreams of a soft domestic life somewhere gorgeous. She thinks the citrus tree is a bit random, but she’ll jubilantly hold your hand and walk with you into the future until you meet that sea together.

[charmingmarchioness]

The Painter’s Masterpiece

Today is a fine spring day to celebrate a new beginning of life and a woman named Violet Evergarden blissfully watched the swaying leaves of the Bougainvillea trees that is located in the southern part of Leidenschaftlich.

The people who caught sight of her cannot help but admire the smiling figure of Violet. It is true that her charm increases every time she let out a warm smile. The cold beauty of hers resonated to that of a blooming spring and it was an art to be reckoned with.

One of the passerby who caught sight of her is a well renowned painter, an artist who is currently looking for an inspiration. His name is Artemis Bluemenville, a young man who is a little bit older than Violet. His eyes. He watched her with a great deal of admiration, cheeks that is dyed in red, and heart that seems to be malfunctioning.

Artemis knew who she was. No, more like most of them knew who she truly is. Violet Evergarden is a famous Auto-Memories Doll, not just in Leidenschaftlich, but also in various continent. She is a demanded celebrity who was able to touch an save the hearts of many.

And the inspiration that Artemis is looking for is right in front of him. He was feeling depressed recently because that previous art that he created lack brightness and vividness. Even if it was created beautifully, that painting still doesn't satisfy him. All because...It lacks meaning and dedication.

Artemis gathered some air and breathe heavily before he courageously went to where she is.

"Miss Violet Evergarden? May I talk to you for awhile?"

Although he is quite nervous and excited at the same time, he cannot let it ruin his delicacy. He was raised as a polite man and the over enjoyment might tarnish his image.

Violet was puzzled for a moment.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" A voice that is so pure and soft echoed throughout his mind and touched his anxious soul.

He clenched his fist and teeth to calm his overly excited and nervous self.

"My name is Artemis Bluemenville. I am a painter and I would like you to be my model for my first masterpiece."

Although he created a lot of paintings, none of it gave him the feeling of satisfaction so he basically cannot call it a masterpiece.

"I..."

So here they are in the 'studio de Arte', showing off all his half hearted paintings. He had a hard time making her accept his offer and now, it feels like a dream come true for him.

"Your paintings are..." Violet paused and slowly spoke the next words, making Artemis a little bit sad. "...beyond wonderful."

"Ah, that's what everyone thinks too...but on the contrary, it lacked the essence of life.

Violet did not respond because she was completely nailed to a particular painting. Her eyes became dull and somewhat pained, as if she's trying to reminisce a distant past.

"Is there something wrong? Do you not like that painting?" He asked, quite troubled.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to put it that way. It's just that...I find it nostalgic for some reason."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Violet once again stared at the painting.

The palette of the painting consists of blue, yellow, white, brown, and many more. It was a picture of a grand mansion in the middle of the flushy green trees and abundant field of flowers. The sea was just close by. The raging dark waves resonates to the brightness of the stars and moon.

"Can you tell me the story behind this painting?"

Artemis gave her a sad smile and nodded.

"I too, have no idea. Years ago, when I was still an amateur painter, I managed to discover a near impossible mansion in the middle of nowhere. It was actually a bazzare experience since I found it by accident. Despite its beautiful surrounding, this abandoned mansion gave me the feeling of chills and creeps. It felt eary and a bit sad but I end up painting it without releasing it to the public."

".....I see."

Is the only word she says while still eyeing that peculiar painting. Artemis suddenly remembered their conversation awhile ago.

(Flasback)

"I...cannot accept."

Thud! His hopes went down after hearing her answer. Artemis, the well known painter was rejected for the first time. But, he simply cannot give up and tried to persuade her one more time.

"May I know the reason why? If it's about the payment, I can pay you triple times. You'll become much much more popular than you are now. Please think about it." The way he sound is quite desperate but if he was asked to kneel, he will not hesitate to do it.

"I don't need the money nor the fame. You see, I simply wish to live a simple life...even if it is impossible for a person like me. I am also not someone to be bought with money." She stated at a matter of fact.

Her doll like features shows nothing but an expressionless look.

"Oh no! Please forgive my insolence. That is not my intention at all. My only wish is to create a masterpiece and you are the one who inspire me, Miss Violet." Gaze that held no lies and ill intention made her a little bit interested.

Silence...No one was talking, not even the noises of the surrounding cound change the awkward and tense atmosphere between the two.

"...Very well."

(Flashback Ends)

Violet Evergarden was obediently sitting in a comfortable chair. The golden hair was spread out like a thin thread of silk while she wears a pure white ruffled dress with a glint of sparkly gold. If one would look at her now, she will be immediately mistaken as a mythological goddess or a princess from a noble kingdom.

"Is that the reason why you declined?"

Artemis asked while looking at her prosthetic hand with a symphatetic eyes. Violet lift up both of her hands and gaze it with a sad smile.

"Yes. I am not as beautiful as you think, nor did I have a decent life, so I technically believed that I do not deserve to be asked such things."

"I...I am sorry for asking." He let his head down, unable to utter a single word. He wanted to say a more appropriate word of comfort but still unable to do so.

"You are not at fault so please do not apologize."

Artemis continued to draw and paint her. This is actually the first time where he enjoyed doing his passion. He retained Violet's elegance and purity; beauty that is too perfect and unbelievably out of this world. When he looked at those mysterious blue eyes, he felt like being swallowed up by a black hole.

Few hours later, he finally managed to patch things up. He was covered in various colors of acrylic paint and paid it no mind because he was too endulged with the overwhelming result. 'This is it! Finally!' Is what he thought while gleefully laughing.

"Thank you so much, Miss Violet Evergarden! I am indebted to you!"

In the end, Violet did not accept the money that Artemis gave her, even if he kept on telling her that he only wanted to give her a credit. He was a disheartened but a silly idea came into his mind.

"Please choose any of those paintings and I'll gladly give it to you. I cannot accept a NO answer." He said while he shamelessly took her artificial arms to his and clapped it together.

Artemis' persistence is endless so Violet had no choice but to pick one. He picked the nostalgic painting that she's been eyeing all the time. The one where she felt an undescribeable feeling and maybe it was something that has a unexplainable connection with her forgotten past.

Soon after, a grand gallery opening was held in the glorious city of Leiden. Many Aristocrats, Celebrities and Ordinary Civilians flock into the event.  The security around the place is very tight. The military police wasn't alone to keep things in order. Some of the Leidenschaftlich army and navy were invited as well since the painter is the youngest son of the military prime minister.

Artemis Bluemenville, the genius painter of all time. Here, he revealed his very own first masterpiece, shocking the hell out of all people, particularly for those people who knew her and for those who are involved with her.

The woman in the largest painting is an outstanding embodiment of perfection and  gorgeousness. The white dress that she wore made her more sophisticated and demure.

Artemis also revealed another painting and that alone made a lot of people fell in love with the loveliness of the woman more and more.

A woman who is usually wearing her doll like clothes stood in the middle of the pinkish red bougainvillea trees, smiling blushingly while holding an emerald brooch in her chest. That sight alone makes it more bewitchingly beautiful. Everyone could really felt the simplicity and the happiness of the woman.

There is actually a particular man who can't keep his beating heart in check and that is no other than Gilbert Bougainvillea, an Army Colonel. He is also the lover of the woman who is being admired in the painting.

This is the magical painting of Artemis Bluemenville. It was Violet Evergarden who inspired him the most. She was also the sole reason why he is finally determined to do his very best.

Meanwhile, a golden haired woman was seen around the Fluegel Castle. She looked back, stared at the bluish sky and smiled.

"It was a nice day."

[heyitmelexie]

No One Compares To You (Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader) Chapter 1

Hi guys! Something new from me today!

This will be a fanfiction with several chapters. If you want to be tagged - just tell me!

Pairing: James Buchanan Barnes/The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 1935

Summary: You are the daughter of Pepper and Tony. Currently living isolated (by choice) in Siberia to work on your master’s exam, someone stumbles into your life and changes it completely.

Author’s Note: In this work Pepper and Tony are a couple for way longer. The Events starting with Captain America: The Winter Soldier (and following) will happen at the same time they actually did (sounds weird but I think you know what I mean). 

Always here for advice so please tell me what you think and what I could do better! :)

Now enjoy ♥

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Snow was falling heavily outside your hut. Like every day, Siberia was covered in snow, a white fairy tale, far away from any other civilization. It was just you, the forest and its inhabitants. And you loved it.

The white landscape of Siberia was a dream. An introvert’s dream, mostly, but a dream after all. Although your hut was miles and miles away from the next city you didn’t feel alone or isolated. The animals here were your friends. Thanks to a part of your mutation, you were able to communicate with all animals. You didn’t need human interaction if it wasn’t necessary. All you needed was a nice cup of hot chocolate, your fire place, a good book and occasionally a funny chat with a bear friend maybe. Doesn’t sound so bad, right?

The silence here helped a lot to focus on your studies. You studied palaeontology and were working on your master’s exam. It consumed most of your time, but it was worth it. Fascinating and exactly what you wanted to do since you watched Jurassic Park for the first time when you were about 5.

You remember the moment you first looked at the hut your dad had bought for you. And he had said jokingly “I spared no expenses” when you walked around the rooms. Luckily, he respected your wishes and didn’t make it all too extravagant. You know, Tony Stark style, all tech and stuff. But you wanted it cosy and decent and he kept it that way. It was a beautiful little wooden hut in the middle of a Siberian forest with a little pond right next to it. A little kitchen, modern but nothing high-tech. Wooden furniture with fuzzy rugs, a bunch of fluffy pillows and blankets, stuff like that. Basically how you would imagine a semi-modern wooden hut in the middle of nowhere. With a basement stuffed with food and drinks for months. Cosy as heck.

Tony didn’t mind that you weren’t a tech geek like him or a business woman like your mother Pepper, he was proud anyways. You did everything in order to reach your goals and to achieve your dreams. Never once did you complain that it was stressful to write so many essays, that it was stressful having that many deadlines. Never. The only thing you did was huff in frustration occasionally, but nothing else. You were tough, like your mother, and he appreciated it. You looked like a chubby mini-version of Pepper mixed with Merida. You were a ginger, messy curls that almost reached your butt and pale skin covered in freckles. Eyes like your mothers and a character exactly like hers, with a little bit of Tony showing sometimes. The side of Tony that messed with Pepper all the time. So Tony saw a mini-Pepper in you and Pepper saw a mini-Tony in you. Perfect.

Your childhood as the Stark kid was rather normal, considering the circumstances. Your parents always made sure that you were out of danger and didn’t witness all of the things they’ve been put through. But when you grew up and developed your mutation, they had to take action.

At the age of 5 you started to do weird things by accident. The first thing that happened was that, during a tantrum, you somehow created a small tornado that completely messed up your whole room. Baffled you had stopped crying immediately and watched in silence, fascinated yet shocked at how that could have happened. You had only felt a slight vibration rushing throughout your body but assumed it was because of the anger you had felt. Today you know it was the power soaring through your body before all hell broke loose.

It would take too long to count and explain all the things that happened after that first incident, so let’s just explain the mutation rather simple: You were able to control all five elements and connected to that you could communicate with animals. ¹ To you the mutation was a gift. You absolutely loved it and wouldn’t want it any other way. It was perfect to you. Logically you went to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. During your time there you discovered everything your mutation had to offer. Which sometimes resulted in cataclysmic situations (a huge and deep hole in the ground, a completely dried out pond, stuff like that) but today you were completely in charge of it. You used your mutation to do good things like growing trees and grass, creating wells with fresh water in regions of need, restoring sections of the rainforest, things like that. But, if necessary, you could use it as a weapon as well. You just didn’t have to, yet.

All in all your life wasn’t too bad. The only thing bothering you was your body.

You have always been a heavy kid. Your family didn’t mind, they loved you nonetheless and always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the entire universe. They always told you that it doesn’t matter if you’re thick or thin. That people might be mean towards you because they think they are better than you just because they were skinny but that their foul words would mean nothing.

One day you came home from school crying because the new kid in your class had called you bad names because of your weight and had made fun of you.

“People can be arse holes” your dad had said to you.

“Tony!” Your mother lightly slapped his arm and looked at him angrily.

“You know I’m right, Pepper. People can be really mean. So sweetie, listen to me. If they say mean things to you: Ignore them. Nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong with you. You are beyond perfect the way you are. Yes you are chubbier than other kids but you’ve got a heart of gold which they don’t have and that makes you better than them. Being kind is way more important than being skinny. You are a little angel and you make me and mommy extremely proud. And no one can ever tell us different. Because people are often very superficial and judge others by their looks. There are people that might be ‘super skinny and beautiful’ but when you get to know them they’re shit.” Another slap. You giggled a little and sniffled and he continued.

“Whatever you do in your life, remember that you do it for yourself and not for others. Never change yourself for anyone. Never let anyone tell you how to live your life and certainly never let anyone rule over you. Your life lies in your hands. Yours only. Your body doesn’t define you, but your character, your actions and the way you treat others do. So stay who and how you are. Be kind, help those that need help and do good things. And don’t you ever worry about the size and shape of your body. You are gorgeous the way you are, honey and I love you to pieces. You don’t need negative people in your life. But there will be people who will love you for who you are. And honestly? If someone thinks you’re not pretty just because you’re bigger, than they are idiots and superficial losers with sticks high up their asses.” He winked at you and you giggled. Your mom just shook her head but smiled.

It made you feel better to hear these words from your dad but the kids at school continued calling you names and bullying you. Their behaviour made you hate your body and at some point not even your parents or even auntie Nat could make you feel better.

You had always wished for a Prince Charming that would love every bit of your body passionately and that would treat you like a Greek goddess. Little did you know that someone would soon burst into your life like uncle Steve once crashed full force into a bridal shop back in the day (he had told you the story several times when you were younger) and turned it upside down, positively.

But back to your current situation. It’s around five pm. You’re sitting on your sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, a mug with hot chocolate on the table and your laptop on your legs, working on your exam paper. This week has been very successful, you’ve filled about 21 more pages and the topic captivated you more and more. You wrote about the Jurassic Park movies and their accuracy compared to the real deal back then. As much as you loved the movies, but many facts were just wrong. A 2-meter Velociraptor? Yeah, no. There were 10 more pages ahead of you and 2 more weeks of time to fill them. 120 pages in 6 months, you felt very proud of yourself.

You decided to stop writing for today. Your eyes grew heavy and your mind was empty for now. And you knew that before you could have a relaxing bath you would have to go outside and carry some wood inside for the fire place. So you put on thick clothing and stepped outside into the cold evening. ² As you made your way to the little shack that holds your wood you noticed a dark pile of something between the trees, halfway covered in snow. This doesn’t look like an animal. It’s all black and doesn’t seem to have any fur covering it. Strange.

Wondering what or who this could possibly be you slowly made your way towards it, preparing for a possible assault. Maybe it’s a human? But who, besides me, would be out here? You hadn’t seen any other human in the past almost 6 months since you live here. And someone getting lost and finding exactly your hut in this isolated area? Only a small chance but you would have to see.

As you got closer you saw a face almost completely buried in the snow. Now you realized there was actually a man lying in the snow, half frozen to death, face blue and body stiff. You felt for a pulse. First you didn’t feel anything and almost panicked but then you could feel a slight beat against your fingers and exhaled relieved. He lived.

You picked him up but struggled. He was really heavy. Not able to carry him all the way back to your hut like this you just drag him through the snow and into the warmth. You put a thick blanket in front of the fire place and him onto it. Then you used your powers to slowly warm him up and at the same time dry him off. The colour slowly crawled back into his face and you felt his pulse getting stronger.

When his body had a normal temperature again you covered him in a bunch of blankets and went into the kitchen to prepare some hot chocolate.

He was wearing weird clothing. All black and it resembled some weird kind of uniform. Also a mask covering his mouth and goggles that you both had taken off his face. It gave you a creepy feeling but for now you would have to make sure he’d get better again before you could ask him some questions.

You just took some mini marshmallows out of the bag to put them on top of the hot chocolate as a body pressed you against the counter. The person wrapped an arm tightly around your torso to hold you in place and you felt a blade being pressed against your throat.

“Move and I’ll kill you.”

(End of Chapter 1)

Author’s Note:

1) Five elements: Air, Fire, Earth, Water and Soul. I got this idea from House of Nights. The main character was able to control the soul element if I remember correctly, I read the books too many years ago to remember any details but this is only an explanation as to why I am referring to five elements rather than four as people usually do. I also personally think seeing the soul as a fifth element is quite logical, it’s as natural as the other elements. But this is not just the soul of a human, it’s basically also the soul of animals and plants etc. It will occur that I’ll talk about auras and moods and stuff like that. Like, seeing the aura of people mostly (like the concept of Vampire Academy), the aura having different colours indicating their moods and states of their souls and stuff like that. I will also create a little legend that tells you what colour means which mood or state of mind/soul.

2) Of course basically you could warm yourself up with your mutation but everything has a price. Using it too much means you’re also using your own energy and that is exhausting. So you rather only use it if you have to, saving your energy.

[fan-clan-fun]

History of VineClan

Please don’t steal this idea! I’ve been working on it for more than 4 days!

I’ve left this in my inbox for  bit trying to understand what you meant by steal your idea. Im assuming you still want me to post this publicly, since you submitted it to me, but in future if you are afraid of someone stealing ideas perhaps maybe you can send a personal message and we can talk things through and discuss your ideas privately! Im always open to dms.

Formation- Vine was a loner who ran away from his father and then met a small group of cats who needed guidance and became their leader and taking them to the Trees of Time.

Many moons ago, BadgerClan, ShadeClan, the lost clan, SunClan, and the other clans, SnakeClan and StreamClan were dead. But now a new dawn is rising.

Thats quite a start, a new clan rising from the ashes of the old ones! Do the current day cats know much of the clans? Or are they basically starting over from scratch?

Rivals- After Vine and his group left the Woods of Water, another group, the Rogues of Roaming moved in and injured one of Vine’s best friends, Blue.

There was almost a war but Blue stopped it. The area is now known as the Roaming Rainfalls.

Always good to have some rivals. Do the rogues become their own clan as well?

Age- VineClan is old. Vinestar and Bluestar are remembered and celebrated every 12 moons

Old is... not quite a helpful descriptor. Perhaps a better way to indicate the age of a clan is through how many leaders have reigned, and for how long, or how many generations have passed. 

Shaping Events- The elders told the story of how Blue stopped the war and the tales of the lost clans are less told than the founding of the clans which is very often. The bold and faithful BadgerClan, the tricky yet helpful ShadeClan, the sharp and qualified once missed SunClan, the passionate and quick SnakeClan and the kind and courageous, water-loving StreamClan

Okay so I see here that some stories of the old clans still survive, but there is still a lot of info you could expand on the old clans and the current association with Vineclan. How does Vineclan see themselves? Are they still the only clan now?

Heroes and Villians: All the living peaceful medicine cats, warriots and kits want to be like Bluestar and all the battle-hungry warriors and kits want to be like Rainstar. The villains are the Rogues of Roaming and VineClan’s greatest enemy.

Each side has the Hall of Fame.

There’s the Hall of Heroes and the Hall of Villians.

I’m glad to know you are thinking of some of them, I would love to hear the stories of your favorites!

Territory 

VineClan’s territory Slope Woods by Day Twowalkers and the Twilight Twowalkers. Fires always come in the greenleaf and floods in leaffall every 48 moons. In those times, they go live in the Fire’s Flood Field (A Shelter Place). Some common animals are bugs, frogs, snakes, lizards, chipmunks, or squirrels. There may be foxes, raccoons, or porcupines as well. Look up in the trees, and you may see birds or bats.

Sounds like standard North America, although choosing a specific region might help you come up with details especially for some fun unique names. 

On RainClan’s territory there is Training Valley, The Hunting Hills, the best place for hunting, Harmony Hills, every moon there is a truce where cats can talk and have fun and they share news and advice. The medicine cats go to the Star Cave with the Moon Crystal. Cats who are not medicine cats go to the Star Hollow and meet their ancestors with the Lightstone. It only works in the daytime.

Ah okay I see here that there is a second clan. There is also a lot of information to unpack in this paragraph. I do like that there are different ways to interact with your ancestors and that your average clan cat can still commune with Starclan, and the Day/night motif of spiritual connection here as well. 

Camp

The camp is hidden in the slopes. Climb up it and you hop in it. It is guarded throughout the day. Over there is the nursery, the biggest den, the one with the huge sand wall. Cats have to leap over it just to get in. Only VineClan cats have that kind of strength and speed for that. The other smaller sand den goes into an underground cave where the apprentices sleep. Scouts sleep on top of the slope or the trees. Guards sleep in a pile of sand with there breathing devices called Sand Breathers so they can sleep and breathe easily. Hunters sleep underneath a pile of prey, so they always get first pick. That big pile of sand and leaves with a small sand wall. The Sand Gem is where the leader gives meetings and the leader glows whenever they sit on it. On top of the gem is where the leader sleeps with the rest of his family. The medicine cats sleep underground. There are two types of herbs, Sand Herbs, that can be kept underground, mostly for wounds and diseases. Sky Herbs are plants that are supposed to be kept outside, in the Green Den that’s open but protected with a bright surface that you can see through it. Poison Plants are spread out all over in the Roaming Rainfalls and the darkest, deepest corners of the Slope Woods.

I see a lot of interesting concepts here! I am fascinated by the implication that these cats have some form of technology or magic, to create the Sand Breathers and the hard clear surface (glass?) protecting the Green Den. I would love to hear more about those aspects, since technology and magic are things I tend to enjoy. As for the hunters sleeping under prey, that sounds a bit uncomfortable, I certainly wouldnt like to sleep under a pile of carcasses which might bleed or be dirty or stinky. So why did they choose to do that? Are they afraid their clanmates will steal their food?

Build: Cats that were born from Guards have a remarkable amount of strength. Cats who are born from Scouts have an unbelievable amount of speed, an average amount of both is how they become a Hunter and anyone who was born from a certain rank (Hunter, Guard, Scout) always is born with that ancestry. 

I see you have gone for a more Tribe-like divisions of skills and build. If you have a certain build are you basically destined to be in that position, or can cats choose?

Pelt: Black cats are considered lucky and white cats with any other eye color than blue are considered unlucky. Any cat with a white pelt and blue eyes is not blind but very powerful and will be automatically chosen for deputy and given 12 lives if they’re evil and want war, 15 lives if they’re average and like a regular leader, 18 lives if they want everlasting peace and is good and kind.

I dont quite understand this. When white kittens with blue eyes are born, are they basically destined to be leader? What happens if there are two in the same clan at the same time? What is the significance of the number of lives? How does the clan or even Starclan itself decide how many lives to give them? Can they read their minds and intentions? Whats to stop a cat who says they want peace from getting those extra lives and then causing chaos? How does living that long affect those cats, or do they die of old age? While this is an interesting concept in theory, you might want to think this through a bit more, you dont have to discard it completely, but you do have to consider the ramifications and consequences. 

Clan Roles- 

Leader 

The leader is voted for every 48 moons and if they are a white cat with blue eyes, there is no vote needed. If they are a white cat with blue eyes that’s good, they get to be leader for 144 moons. If they are voted again, it’s 96 moons.

Ah some more info, but still very confusing. If leaders are voted for every four years (48 moons) normally, what happens to leaders who havent lost their nine lives by that point? Do all leaders (other than white cats with blue eyes) get regular nine lives? Why do white cats get to be leaders for so long, and do their extra lives sustain their bodies that long? Are you saying a white cat with blue eyes could live and rule for 238 moons (almost 20 years, 144+96 moons)?

Deputy

The deputy is the leader’s Vice President and is chosen by the leader.

Medicine Cat

They follow the Code of the Stars. An apprentice is chosen with a trial. A trial starts at 5 moons. There are two tests: Intelligence and Heart. Intelligence shows how much you know. Heart shows how much you’re into it.

In order for kittens to pass this trial, are they all taught basic information and knowledge about herbs? What qualifies a cat to be chosen as medicine cat apprentice?

Elders

The elder’s average age is 65 moons. The oldest elder is The Protector of the Knowledge, the second oldest elder is Head Elder and reminds elders of their duties like their Daily Walk guarded by 1 Scout and 2 Guards and their Ceremony Seats and the Head Elder is like the deputy’s assistant who helps with everything and The Protector of Knowledge tells knowledge whenever needed.

I feel like I am missing a lot of info here, that there is a lot more to dive into. Its really nice to see Elders having their own positions and duties though at least!

Warriors

There are Hunters, Guards, and Scouts. Hunters are average, Guards are strong and Scouts are quick.

Okay, well Im not sure why Hunters are considered average, since that sounds a bit demoralizing, but I suppose that if the Guards and Scouts are elite warriors it might make more sense.

Queens

The Kitter is the cat who has been in the nursery for the most and assigns Kitsitters who take care of the kits after the age of 4 moons and stop at the age of 9 moons when a kit moves out of the nursery and into the apprentice den, so the queens can go back to their original role. The Kitsitters are mostly former queens or their fathers. The Protector of Knowledge mostly takes on an apprentice and there are called The Apprentice of Knowledge and they teach the 6-9 moons, the Way of the Warrior.

I see your cats are considered kits for longer than canon. Are these intermediate moons kind of like school? Why are medicine cat apprentices chosen so young before their schooling even begins?

Apprentices

They are apprenticed to 15 moons. The Protector of Knowledge mostly takes on an apprentice and there are called The Apprentice of Knowledge and they teach the 6-9 moons, the Way of the Warrior. The requirements to become a hunter is to hunt the most prey from sunup to sundown. Guards have to fight each other and the Top 3 becomes a guard. Cats who have failed have to take the test next moon and if they fail till they’re 18, they become a hunter. Scouts go into a race and the Top 3 becomes a scout and the 4th, 5th and 6th placers become Trial Scouts and if they fail their mission, they become hunters.

So I notice that there are two different ways to become a hunter, but they seem a bit contradictory. You mention that to become a hunter you need to hunt the most prey. Does that mean only one becomes a hunter? Or is there an amount each cat needs to hunt to pass their trial? And failed scouts still automatically become hunters without having to pass the same trial as regular hunters?

Kits

Kits are raised by their mothers from the age of 1-3 and their Kitsitters from the age of 4-9

Code of Conduct

The regular warrior code.

Laws

Punishment is placed in front of the StarClan Court and if it was minor it’s mostly cleaning out the elder’s den. Middle is suspension. Major is mostly banishment.

Mates

There is a ceremony for mates who want to be together forever.

Leader: Welcome, cats of VineClan who have wanted to be with (male cat) (rank) and (female cat)(rank) and today: we thank you for being here to share this extraordinary day. You may sit. Now, (male cat) do you, of your own free will, take (female cat) as your StarClan watched mate, to cherish and defend—as long as you both shall live?

Male Cat: I do.

Leader: (Female cat) do you, of your own free will, take (make cat) as your StarClan watched mate, to cherish and defend—as long as you both shall live?

Female Cat: I do.

Leader: With the promises you have made and with the power invested in me with all of StarClan watching, I now pronounce you mates for life. You may touch noses the bride.

(They touch noses and some purring may be made and that’s when the kits and apprentices leave.)

I see you have drawn heavily on modern human marriage ceremonies for your mateship ritual! But are there provisions if the cats break up? Or marriages where the cats aren’t strictly male and female?

All the other ceremonies are the same. Here’s two new ones.

The Protector of Knowledge Ceremony

Leader: You are the oldest cat (name of cat) and hereby should be known as The Protector of Knowledge for as long as you live. 

Head Elder Ceremony

Leader: You see the second oldest cat (name of cat) and have proven your loyalty many times over and you are hereby known as Head Elder until the Protector of Knowledge hands over his/her power to you.

Naming: The kits are named after whatever the queens want their names to be.

Afterlife: Cats can go into whatever age they want too in the afterlife and there’s plenty of prey and instead of a dark slope there’s a light sunny field.

Thank you for sharing about your clans! I think there are a few things you might need to expand on and think through, if you would like we can chat in private as well if you are worried!

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part Three.

I’ve been alone in the room for what feels like hours now. Doctors and nurses keep coming and going, pricking me with needles and giving me medicine to take, taking my vitals, and asking me how I feel. Rate my mental state on a scale of 1 to 10. I feel fine, I just want to get the fuck out of here. They could’ve at least put me in a room with a TV or given me a magazine or a book or something, literally anything. I’m so bored. If I didn’t lose my mind already, I definitely will if I have to spend another minute in this room. The only thing keeping me company is the beeping of the heart monitor, and the hissing of the air unit. I’ve counted all the cracks in the ceiling, and I’ve recited every song I know. I started playing a game where I see how high I can count before another person walks into the room. I got up to 6000. We need to pick up the pace here. I get they’re worried that there could still be something wrong with me, but if I was asleep for the unspecified amount of time everyone keeps referring to as a “long time,” I think if something was going to happen, it would have. I just took a really long nap, its fine, let me go home.

Everyone that walks in keeps saying that they’re happy to see me awake, that I was so missed. “Don’t worry everything is going to be so much better” Some tech told me. Sure, it is; everything sucked before, and there’s no reason that it would stop sucking. Hey, at least now I have a fake friend and a sister that refuses to see me. I can’t forget that I have an apple orchard? Someone really needs to tell me what’s going on.

On top of that, everyone keeps telling me  that it’s a miracle I’m not brain dead. Obviously, the higher powers that be think there is still some entertainment value left in me. Maybe this will be the single event that puts me on the path to becoming the person that ends world hunger. More likely, I’m going to just spend the rest of my life drawing pictures that no one appreciates, struggling to make ends meet. Oh, what a life to live; and it’s going to be mine, unless I get into a BFA program with connections to Disney or something, then it might actually be a life worth living.

Look at me: I can walk, I can talk, and I still remember everything that happened leading up to going to the park. It’s a miracle I remember what a fuck-up I am.

There’s a knock on the door, I look up expecting another person wanting to draw my blood, but it’s just Cynthia. She holds up a fast food bag, “I bet you’re hungry.” She unpacks the bag on the tray table, burgers and fries. We never get to eat crap like this. I think since the time I was 5 years old she was always doing some weird gluten free, keto diet. I must have really scared her to get a treat like this. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, nor did I want to pass up on this rare opportunity to eat junk food, so I picked at it.

She watches me eat, “I really love you Connor, you’re my baby boy.” She’s crying again. I’ve never seen her so upset before. My whole life, she was always nagging me about something: smoking weed, growing out my hair, missing school. In fact, the last time I was in the hospital, for hurting myself, she told me that she was disappointed in me. “I expect better from you Connor,” she had said. That really stung. I was hurting, I still am hurting, and even my own mom wasn’t there to support me. What’s different about this time? I got too close to actually dying? Did they finally realized that I wasn’t faking my struggles, and now they feel guilty for not helping me?

My whole life they have pushed me too be something that I’m not, which actually caused them to push me away. They keep pushing me and pushing me, but still expect me to be able to stand. They load they weight of their expectations and disappointments on me, but I can only hold so much weight on my shoulders before it starts to crush me. I’m trying the best I can here, but I’m buried under the rubble that is the mess that I am. I tried so hard, I tried faking it so everyone could accept me, but its so exhausting. I just want people to love me for who I am, the mess and all, and not want to change me. I’m sending out a S.O.S. and its too bright outside to see my flare.

“Mom,” I say, “how long was I in a coma?”

“A long-time” she says.

“Can you please catch me up? I jus-” Mom waves her arm signaling me to stop. I really want to know what happened while I was asleep. No one seems to want to talk about it. I’m left to wonder what happened to the world while I was in this bed. Oh, I hope aliens invaded.

Mom sighs like she’s tired of being here, “The doctors said to wait to reintroduce media to you, but you must be so bored, so I brought you this.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out my phone. Oh, thank God. I basically rip it out of her hands and push the home button. The screen lights up to reveal hundreds of notifications. What the hell, I don’t have friends, literally. I don’t have a single person in my life I could even call a friend. People must really pity me. You disappear from the world, and suddenly everyone realizes how special you are. Everyone wants to be friends with the kid that almost died, their conscience won’t let them sleep at night otherwise.

I look at the date, October 15th. You mean to tell me I’ve been asleep for almost two months? It’s been two months since the first day of school. I missed two months of my life? Two months of school. Two months of gossip. Two months in this hospital bed. No wonders why everyone is freaked out, someone in a coma for that long, there has to be something wrong with them. “I’ve got to get going,” Mom says standing up. She kisses my forehead before she leaves.

I scroll through the notifications, they’re all texts from unknown numbers saying shit like “We miss you Connor, get well soon” Okay, talk about some bullshit. No one cared about me before, so why do I have to almost die for people to notice me. I mean no one deserves to be forgotten, or to disappear, but it would’ve been nice if they all noticed me before. I log on to Facebook. I hate that website, but I have a feeling it would be the most reliable place to find out what happened. Surly, Cynthia posted some Please keep my family in your prayers, our son is a freak bullshit. Sure enough, my feed is filled with pictures of me, people sharing stories about me, Connor was my best friend in the fourth grade, and he used to ride my bus. Everyone talking about how they know me, how much I mean to them. Its funny how death can bring out the shallowness in everyone. Also, why is everyone making my almost death so personal? My life had no bearing on yours before, and it doesn’t now. You don’t care about me. If I really meant anything to you, I would’ve known, I would’ve been an actual part of your life.

I click on my profile, and I’m tagged in something called The Connor Project. I click it, a video of Evan Hansen and Alana Beck plays, “The Connor Project is student group dedicated to keeping Connor’s memory alive, to show that everyone matters, everyone is important.” Okay, but, I don’t know why I need a whole group to keep my memory alive, I’m still alive. The site is filled with videos of Evan talking about how important I am to him. There’s a video of him telling the story about how he broke his arm , but it’s completely false. Maybe he fell out of a tree, but I wasn’t there. We never went to a yellow field or climbed any tall trees. I definitely didn’t drive him to the hospital either.

There’s old pictures of me everywhere on the page.  You can tell they’re old because my hair is so short in them, my ears sticking out. I wonder where they got them from. I’ve never been a big poster, I think there’s maybe two posts on my Instagram. Maybe Zoe or Mom gave them the pictures. I’m not mad, they’re all really good pictures of me. I look happy in most of them, like genuinely happy.

I don’t even remember ever being that happy.

There’s so many copies of emails me and Evan sent each other. Oh, that’s funny, because I’ve literally never talked to this kid, let alone sent him an email. And people are eating it up, thank you for sharing such an intimate conversation. Hey, I hate to break it to you: this isn’t real. This doesn’t sound like the Connor I knew. Guess what! The emails don’t sound like me because I didn’t write them. None of these emails I supposedly sent could vaguely belong to me. It’s like writing an essay about a book you never read. Also, who even emails anymore? Did we hit a time warp back to the 1990’s? It’s like I was asleep for so long that time actually started moving backwards. Why are they all about trees? You can tell by how pale I am that I don’t go outside. I keep scrolling. It’s just endless content of bullshit. Evan did say he wrote fake emails, and Jared was in on it, but how many other people were in on it? This is really elaborate. The page has 16,239 followers. Evan Hansen is being crowned as an amazing kid who shared a great tribute for his best friend.

This is a really cruel. It has to be an elaborate joke, right? But, what did I ever do to Evan that he would do something like this? First he writes a creepy letter about my sister, and now he’s infiltrated himself into my life as my best friend, as my hero. What is his obsession with me?

I’ve always been a loser just waiting to be seen, and finally everyone sees me. But they don’t see me.

They see the me Evan created.

[qqueenofhades]

Ahem. As discussed, a prompt my good lady...Lucy and Flynn + fake married in Dubrovnik + the inevitable shenanigans...

Okay SO. On the plane over, there was something in the magazine about a website where tourists can go to Amsterdam and fake-marry a local for a day, so their new “spouse” can take them around the non-tourist parts of the city, and then they go their separate ways at dusk and it’s fun etc. I immediately decided that this needed a Garcy AU, for obvious reasons.

Lucy Preston wasn’t really planning on going to Croatia. In fact, she wasn’t exactly planning to go anywhere. But it’s been a rough few months to say the least – tenure meeting cancelled at Stanford, breaking up with Noah, Mom has to go back to the hospital for more tests and it isn’t looking good – and in a fit of late-night frustration, she decided to just fly somewhere over Thanksgiving break and forget about the clusterfuck that was her life for a bit. Somewhere warm, she wasn’t picky. She suggested that Amy go with her, but Amy had work and couldn’t get away, and by then, Lucy had already booked a ticket. She’s heard that Dubrovnik is beautiful, there is a university and a state archive there so she can theoretically disguise it as a research trip, and when she was running through the apparently deeply cursed Frankfurt airport to catch her connecting flight, a text popped up from Amy. Something that she thinks Lucy should try, just for shits and giggles. Some kind of app called Untourist.

Lucy took a look at it and decided that it was basically Tinder for tourists, even if the premise tried to be more classy than that. In short, you can pick a European city from the list (More Locations Coming Soon!, promises the popup), fill in some brief preference Q&As, and be matched with a local, who will fake-marry you in a ceremony complete with photos and then take you on a “honeymoon” for a day in the city. The idea is that you get to have a personal guide, explore places off the main drag – and presumably, if you hook up at the end, that’s a nice bonus, but not one that the app strictly advertises. It sees itself as promoting intercultural connections and lived experiences, rather than anything so ignominious as arranging casual sex with a hot foreigner. Apparently it got its start in Amsterdam, though, so this would not be surprising.

The split with Noah is still raw, and Lucy isn’t planning to use the app for that purpose – or indeed, at all. But after she has landed at the surprisingly tiny airport and has boarded the bus for the drive along the coast road to the city, she downloads it on a whim that she shouldn’t think through and decides it might be fun to have someone to travel with, even briefly. After she’s signed up, created a profile, and filled in her details, she is given two options to match with, and ends up going for the latter: Garcia from Dubrovnik. She thought about Marko from Zagreb, but his profile says that he’s a Dinamo Ultra, and she decided that she didn’t want to spend the day getting a crash course in the finer points of Croatian football hooliganism. Garcia it is, apparently.

Dubrovnik is insanely beautiful, with crystalline turquoise water lapping at towering medieval city walls (souvenir shops every few streets will proudly remind you that they filmed Game of Thrones here), palm trees, red-tiled roofs, old golden-stone buildings, winding side alleys, and sunlight that pours down as rich as olive oil. Since it’s November, it’s not quite as hot as in high summer, and the tourist rush is somewhat dimmed. Lucy sleeps late at her Airbnb high on a very steep side street, as the city is spread out over several hills on the side of the tall blue mountains that rise out of the water, and almost forgets that her fake wedding is today. She jumps out of bed, puts on some makeup (just because she’s not actually marrying the guy doesn’t mean she has to look completely trollish), grabs her bag, and heads down into town, following a winding alley of staircases that are probably going to be a pain to climb back up. She hopes this was a good idea. It was mostly to appease Amy, anyway. Can she cancel, or would that count as leaving Garcia at the (fake) altar?

What the hell, she’s here now, and maybe if she shows that she’s receptive to new experiences, the universe will give her a break. Lucy trots along the palm-treed square above the city walls, finds the door with the Untourist logo by the bell, and steps inside. “Dobro jutro,” she says, which is about all the Croatian she speaks, and most people have been happy to use English anyway. “I’m Lucy Preston, I have an appointment today?”

The slick Unreceptionist greets her, gives her a waiver to sign (bad experiences and/or unsatisfactory spouses are not their fault, any meeting beyond the day is done on personal terms, etc) and they await the arrival of her dashing groom-to-be. It is twelve minutes past their scheduled start time, and the Unreceptionist is making apologetic noises, when the door opens with a bit of a crash and a man who must be Garcia ducks in. He’s tall, dark, and craggy-handsome, probably in his forties, wearing aviator sunglasses, and clutching a takeaway coffee. He addresses the Unreceptionist in rapid Croatian, looks up, sees Lucy, and nods shortly. “Ah,” he says, switching to English. “Right, you’re here. Let’s go.”

“Sir,” the Unreceptionist says, looking as if he’s wondering if Garcia himself read the details and/or the release forms before signing up. “You’re supposed to…?”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to have the wedding ceremony first?”

“I’m supposed to have the what?”

At that, Lucy winces. Feeling as if this might be an opportune moment to interrupt the conversation, and wondering if it’s too late to switch to Marko from Zagreb and risk dying at an Eternal Derby game, she stands up. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Lucy Preston?”

“I know.” Garcia glances at her briefly, up and down, and then away. “What’s this about a wedding?”

“That’s the whole point of the app,” Lucy says pointedly. “Fake-married, take me to places that aren’t touristy, then at the end of the day, go our separate ways?”

Garcia looks briefly pole-axed, then seems to decide that right, well, this is on him for failing to read the terms and conditions. “Fine,” he says impatiently. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Lucy’s cheeks sting. Making a mental note to give him a zero of five stars on any feedback form that she might have to fill in to rate her experience today, she follows him into the back, where they are joined in a very non-legally-binding ceremony, have their photo taken (Garcia looks like this is a real funeral rather than a fake wedding) and finally are released into the wild, as Garcia (who is a good foot taller than her) strides ahead without waiting. When Lucy runs to catch up, he says, “Nobody told me there was a wedding involved.”

“Did you even read what they wanted?” Lucy’s tone is slightly waspish, but then, he isn’t exactly showering her in that supposedly famous Slavic hospitality. The sweet lady at the Airbnb was much nicer than this. “It was right there in the entire premise. If you don’t want to spend a day taking me around the city, fine, but maybe next time, try to actually – ”

“No,” Garcia says abruptly. “You’re here now. Let’s go.”

With that, he strides off toward the gate in the towering walls, down into the Stari Grad. Lucy thinks the view from up there must be spectacular, but she’s not actually going to get a chance to find out, because Garcia derides them as too touristy and refuses to pay 200 kuna to go up them. (This is something like $30, so it clearly is a lot, but the city sees no reason not to profit off all the Game of Thrones fans.) Nor does he think much of the main drag, the cathedral square, the rector’s palace, or any of the other usual sights. He says that Lucy can call him Flynn, but doesn’t explain why. She thinks it’s his last name, but honestly, she can’t be sure. He has the social skills of a broken-down dump truck.

Finally, since there isn’t much of Dubrovnik, at least the old town, that isn’t touristy, Lucy persuades Flynn to let them go up the walls, though by the face he makes at the cashier as he pays for their tickets, the poor man might be found floating face-down in the ocean later. They climb up to the winding ramparts, gazing out over the Adriatic to one side and the crowded, tiled roofs on the other, and on one steep section, Lucy loses her footing and nearly falls. She wouldn’t have gone over the edge, there are plenty of barriers, but Flynn flashes out a hand and steadies her. It’s the first remotely human or non-dickish thing he’s done, and she raises an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

Perhaps sensing by her acerbic tone that he has not been the world’s most satisfactory fake husband to date, Flynn has the grace to blush, or at least look somewhat chagrined. “I’d definitely get in trouble if you died.”

“Thanks,” Lucy says again, even more tartly. “Guess it’s a good thing for you that you have good reflexes?”

“I fought in the Homeland War.” Flynn glances away. It’s the first personal thing he’s shared about himself, in a casual, offhand way that makes it sound no more remarkable than getting milk from the store. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Lucy glances at him. He’s made it clear that he’s not here for the fake marriage, let alone small talk, but she paid a decent amount of money to be here with this tall idiot and he can just suffer it. “Are you from Dubrovnik?”

“I was born in Šibenik.” Flynn doesn’t break stride, obliging Lucy to trot to keep up with him. “Lived a few places around the country. It was Yugoslavia back then, though. War started in 1991.”

“I know,” Lucy says. “I mean, I’m a historian, so I was recently doing some work on 1989 and the U.S. response to the dissolution of the Iron Curtain. Technically, Yugoslavia wasn’t Soviet, right?”

“No,” Flynn says, with a sort of grim pride. “Tito and Stalin hated each other. It was…. sort of an in-between place, I suppose. We didn’t need exit visas, there was a certain amount of social freedom, and Tito liked to market it as neutral, a third country between East and West, combining the best of both and the worst of neither. Of course, he was a dictator, but supposedly a benevolent one. Most people liked him. My childhood was – ” He stops. “Well, my mother was American, anyway. Maybe that was what drew her here. Running away.”

Lucy glances up at him. She has a sense that Flynn doesn’t often talk much about his past, and decides that since they are, after all, only fake-married, she doesn’t need to pry. However, since the subject of his mother has arisen, she holds back as best she can, not wanting to dump the fraught subject of Carol Preston on a strange man who has only just met her and treated her one step above gum stuck to his shoe, but finally needs to talk about it with someone who isn’t Amy. She still isn’t sure Flynn gives a damn, but too bad for him. She mentions that it’s been hard, with the Stanford legacy and the cancer and the expectations that she would accept Noah’s proposal, and she just – well, she doesn’t know. Maybe Lucy understands a bit of Flynn’s mother, whoever she was, whyever she came here. Maybe she too was, or is, running away. Even if she has to fly all the way back to San Francisco at the end of this week, some part of her would be more than happy to fling all her responsibilities to the wind, move into some picturesque old flat in one of those tiny streets, and stay.

They descend the walls after completing their circuit, and Flynn deigns to buy her lunch at a small cafe where the menu is only in Croatian and a sign informs customers that they don’t take euros, only kuna. Lucy allows him to order something for her, and they sit there eating in semi-awkward silence. Then Flynn says, apropos of nothing, “Maria.”

“What?”

“My mother’s name.” He shrugs. “It was Maria Tompkins. She was from Houston. She moved to Yugoslavia in 1970, after the death of her first husband and son. She was traveling through Europe, I don’t know that she intended to stay here, but she met my father, so she did.”

“Oh.” Lucy wonders what it would have been like here in the seventies. Probably still beautiful, though much less developed. So Maria Tompkins fell in love, that was what made a young American woman go Red, a move that must have been regarded dimly by her friends and family back in Texas. With that sort of tragedy shadowing her past, maybe it was easier to cut all ties, to get a new passport, to learn a new language, and never look back. Lucy feels a sudden pang of sympathy with this other woman, this unknown fellow traveler, who too found herself in this corner of the world wanting to leave it all behind. Lucy has responsibilities at home, not least her job (even if they didn’t give her tenure, or at least it’s very much in academic bureaucracy limbo), her sister, her sick mother, all the encumbrances and trappings of real life. She can’t do what Maria did, no matter how much she wants to. And for some reason completely unknown to her – it certainly isn’t the pleasure of Flynn’s company – she does.

They finish lunch and head out. It’s warm enough for November that Flynn suggests they can go for a dip, though he gives her a no-clearly-not look when Lucy naively thinks this will be at Banje Beach, the main spot just south of the walls. He leads her up to the street, where they find his car and get in. It’s an Audi, and she wonders what exactly he does for a living. He has a habit of scanning their surroudings, casually flicking his gaze at passersby, in a way that she doesn’t think stems from his military service alone. In fact, she’s starting to wonder if he joined the Untourist app to case the city and/or scope out people without it being too suspicious. Maybe it’s better for everyone if she doesn’t ask about his job. He might have to suffocate her and bundle her up in a black plastic garbage bag in the boot.

Flynn, it transpires, drives like a bit of a maniac, a habit he shares with most of the other road users (especially the scooters and motorcycles). Lucy has already noticed that Croatians seem to have a rather laissez-faire attitude toward personal safety, as evidenced by their tendency to stand outside guardrails overlooking steep drops, walk the wrong way along busy highways, dart across roads in front of oncoming traffic, and jury-rig anything that isn’t actively falling apart. When she mentions this to Flynn, he shrugs. “Slavs are like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Especially Croatians. Though if you think we’re bad, you should meet the Poles.”

Lucy laughs despite herself, since that’s the first time Flynn has loosened up to flash any bit of actual humor. Well, that’s not quite true; he is remarkably sassy, has a sarcastic comment for most occasions and especially anything involving a tourist making a fool of themselves, but this is the first time that his humor has seemed gentler, more like he’s actually enjoying himself and poking a bit of self-deprecating fun rather than lashing out at the world. They drive along the cliff road for several miles in silence, until Lucy asks, “When did you move to Dubrovnik?”

“About…” Flynn hesitates, and she senses that there’s more riding on the answer to that question than he wants to let on. “Well, I lived in Zagreb until 2014.”

“And you moved here after that?”

“More or less.” Flynn adjusts the rearview mirror, which doesn’t really need it. After a long pause he says, “My wife and daughter died in 2014. I came here for – well, I didn’t want to stay there anymore.”

“I’m….” Lucy feels taken aback, almost guilty that she’s been so derisive of his inability to read app terms and conditions, his clear aversion to the whole fake-married part. Not that they’ve really been acting like it, anyway, but still. She can imagine it wouldn’t be easy for her, if that ever happened, to stand up and play-act some stupid charade for an American tourist hiring you like a beast of burden, not when you’d had the real thing, not when it was gone. “Garcia,” she says, the first time she’s used that since he told her to call him Flynn. She has a sense that he prefers that, that Garcia is some place too personal where he doesn’t let people go, not any longer. “I’m sorry.”

He glances at her, and for a moment she thinks he’ll snap at her, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on the road, navigating the tight turns with ease, until at last he says, “I’m sorry I haven’t been very much fun.”

Lucy opens her mouth by polite reflex to say that he has, and settles for a noncommital hum. Flynn seems to sense that while he might have worked his way up from zero stars, he’s still a way off from five, and parks the Audi in a pullout. They descend a narrow cliff path to the sea, he reaches out to catch her arm when her feet skid again on the pebbles, and Lucy decides she should probably warn him that she’s clumsy before she really does accidentally kill herself. But if she fell into the sea from here, she has an unaccountable sense that he’d dive in after her, no matter how odd and brusque and grumpy he is. It’s less clear whether this is because he’s starting to like her a little, or because it would be an insult to his professional competence. Maybe he’s in the Mafia.

They reach a small quay where a catamaran is tied up, Flynn strides to it and produces two life jackets, and once Lucy has climbed aboard, he swings on, undoes the ropes, and angles the sails out into the wide blue water, endless as a reflected sky. It must be a busy harbor in summer, and there’s still a decent boat traffic now: ferries, jet-skis, a few sailboats and pleasure yachts. Lucy holds on tight as Flynn carves an expert white wake. “Is this your boat, then?”

“No,” Flynn says. “But I borrow it from time to time.”

“Did you – ” Lucy gives him a very narrow stare. “Did you steal this boat?”

“No!” Flynn looks miffed that she would ask. “I know the owner, he lets me use it when I want to. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Lucy opens her mouth, starts to answer, and stops. Truth is, she isn’t sure. An hour ago she would have said a raging, self-absorbed dick with no social skills and possibly black-market employment, and parts of that are still true, but the rest, well… she can’t say exactly. He keeps letting slip these odd, vulnerable parts of him, almost in spite of himself. His past in the war, his mother running away from her old life, his dead wife and daughter, everything else. She isn’t certain what she thinks of him, exactly, but she isn’t wishing that she picked Marko from Zagreb anymore. If nothing else, Flynn is complicated, and challenging, and oddly easy to talk to, and he hasn’t told her to shut up about the family/work/life drama that she occasionally returns to venting about. Lucy thinks she’ll take that, at least. 

She looks at his hands, large and sun-brown and expertly pulling and tying the knots to trim the sail, as he pulls them to a bobbing halt in the sparkling water and asks if she wants to swim. Lucy didn’t put on her bathing suit under her clothes, but she doesn’t want to go to the bother of making him drive all the way back to the Airbnb. So she strips off her shirt and jeans, and, in just her bra and underpants (hey, they’re married, even fakely), she dives in.

The water is chillier than she expected – this is the southern Mediterranean, it’s never cold no matter the season, but it is November, and she splutters and gasps as she bobs to the surface. Flynn, observing from the high-and-dry comfort of the catamaran, smirks at her, and Lucy gives him the finger. “You dick,” she shouts. “You could have warned me.”

Flynn shrugs, apparently utterly untroubled either by this accusation or by her attitude; indeed, he grins as if he appreciates this feistiness, her willingness to talk back at him and tell it like it is. Lucy spends so much time biting her tongue around absolutely everyone else that this reaction is both unexpected and deeply liberating, and once she’s swum around the catamaran a few times and adjusted to the water temperature, she takes a deep breath and dives down under the pontoons. Then she surfaces on the far side, reaches up, and just as Flynn senses danger and whips around, she grabs him by the back of the shirt and jerks him backward.

He’s wearing a life jacket, of course, so he doesn’t go too far under, but the expression on his face is worth every penny that she paid to the stupid app. He shakes his wet hair like a dog as he surfaces, and she has to say, he looks really good while doing it. “Excuse me,” he says, in a tone of deep umbrage. “Who told you that it was a good idea to start a marriage off by throwing your husband in the drink?”

“Maybe if I’m drowning you for the life insurance,” Lucy shoots back, before she can stop herself. She has no idea who this woman is, who has gone from being exasperated and shut off with Flynn to – well, she did in fact just throw him in the ocean, but there’s definitely something different about their dynamic now. It wouldn’t be a stretch to call it flirty, whether or not this is listed in Untourist’s terms and conditions (and as well established, Flynn did not read them anyway). “After all, I think we can say that you deserve it. Tragic boating accident?”

Too late, she wonders if this is a bad idea to joke about, since she doesn’t actually know how his wife and daughter died (she hopes it wasn’t that, anyway) but Flynn actually laughs, and it transforms his whole face. They spend a very enjoyable forty minutes swimming around, splashing each other, and hanging onto the side of the catamaran and letting their legs sway in the current. They’re close alongside each other as they do, Lucy is conscious of only being in her wet underwear (it’s not like he can see anything while she’s submerged, but still), and something passes between them as their eyes meet. His throat moves as he swallows, and after a moment too long, he looks away.

They climb back on the boat, Flynn looses the sail and steers them back toward land, and they disembark, Lucy once more watching for investigative purposes as he ties up. They dry off and she pulls on her damp clothes, as Flynn decorously turns his back and waits until she is done. Then they tramp up the bluff to the car (Lucy was thinking about retiring here, since it’s warm and sunny and beautiful and all that, but if she is elderly, all the climbing might be too much) and drive back toward the town center. The sun is getting low, her paid-for day is almost done, and despite the total disaster that was it starting out, Lucy is oddly reluctant for it to do so. As Flynn pulls up in front of the Untourist office, she says convulsively, “Maybe we should… I don’t know. I think they’re closed, anyway. You don’t have to drop me off here.”

Flynn glances at her, then considers it. He could offer to just take her back to her Airbnb (those streets really were not designed for sane drivers, and Lucy can see why tiny Smart cars are popular around here, but Flynn would absolutely not fit into one) and he still might. Then he says, “Well, technically, the day isn’t over. Do you suppose I could take you out for dinner?”

“You….” Lucy coughs. “I suppose you could.”

They find parking, and walk down into the old town, as the moon is rising over the walls, the towers are floodlit, the city gleams in the cooling dusk like its nickname, the “Pearl of the Adriatic,” and they find another cafe where the clientele is mostly local. They linger late over dinner, and Flynn says that he will in fact drive her back when they’re finally done, and as she’s about to undo her seatbelt and get out, Lucy hesitates. Then she screws up her courage, leans over, and kisses him very fast on the cheek. “Thank you,” she says. “I had – I really did have a great time.”

Flynn looks as surprised as her to hear it, but somehow and shyly gratifeid as well. A fugitive smile plays at the corner of his mouth, tentative, tender. For a moment, she thinks he might be about to kiss her back for real, but he clears his throat and holds out his hand instead. “Er,” he says. “Thank you, Dr. Preston.”

Lucy hesitates, fighting her disappointment, and shakes it back. Then she steps out of the car and unlocks the door of the apartment, as he waits to see that she gets inside without random Ragusan fiends materializing from the shrubbery. Even when she does step in, the car idles a few more moments, and she glances back, wondering – or perhaps it’s only hoping – that he’s chastising himself for letting her walk away. Then the car starts again, she can see his dark figure sitting too stiff and straight at the wheel, and she watches until the taillights vanish around a steep turn, and fade into the night.

[hildorien]

I am in the minority but I’d love to know more about the pre-noldor elvish edain culture, history, and just life. 

I wanna know more about men in the context of men, I wanna see history through human eyes without the elvish perspective. 

I wanna know the full experiences of all humans in middle earth not the ones the elves interacted with. And if you have to have elves, I wanna hear about what humans thought of elves that isnt ‘oh they are so perfect and amazing and beautiful uwu’, because that’s kind of boring and we can all agree first age elves? on the whole? pretty shitty. (I love em but they have one brain cell to share among them and fuck up on the regular). 

I wanna see Humans who were born into a dumpster fire that is the world of arda, these are a people who didn’t get Orome leading them to heaven on earth, they got Morgoth. These are a people who lived in Morgoth’s land for centuries who probably experienced horror and oppression from basically their species infancy. Unlike the elves of valinor, or even the Sindarin protected by Melian, horror and despair would have not been their abnormal, it would be their everyday.  But they aren’t broken, they survive. They make families, connections, lives in this wasteland. They adapt and change, because I think in some ways that is the race of men’s true advantage over elves. That we don’t have a gap on our ‘greatness’ persay, humanity’s ambitions get’s mutated into greed a lot (I mean numenor is a dumspter fire for a reason) but I think that human ambition is a strength because it means we don’t accept our circumstances. The Edian sure didn’t. 

The edain, the Boerians, the people of haleth, and the hadorians, all marched themselves out of morgoth’s land hoping for something better, with NO GUARANTEE they find anything better.  But they still did it. And while we are here, let’s talk about how the race of men has not guarantee of anything, like elves (and dwarves) kind of know where they end up. They go to Mandos and get reborn, they go to aule, respectively. Men...don’t have that. Men really didn’t get anything (but Morgoth and suffering). They leave this world forever, thats what they know. Thats what they are told. 

But no one knows what the means. (Personally, I think its like a good place situation kind of. Eru is just michael and turin is janet) 

But anyway back to the POINT, (if there ever was one) the edain end up finding beleriand but beleriand isn’t the paradise they wanted. But hey, its not morgoth so let’s celebrate said the beorians before promptly getting found by finrod. And look elves did a lot of good for humans, but I also think there is this really bad dynamic of elves holding all the power and men just being in it for the ride. 

Ive made the joke that the elves of the first age are kind of like the edian’s sugar daddies but it’s kind of true. They give them land and like ‘wisdom’ (whatever the fuck that means) and in return men give them their ever increasing numbers. The Silm is a very elven story we don’t really get a lot of human, but when we do I think it’s pretty interesting. Because the relationship between Elves and Men is really uneven in the first age...and all ages even though in later ages forces of men like numenor at their height could I think easily sweep the floor with the elves of the second age combined. I think culturally Elves give a lot more, like men end up picking up their language, though im one hundred percent sure human languages didn’t die out and never do, humans must have shit talked elves a LOT in taliska (oh yes, that is the name of at least the language spoken by the hadorians and beorians, the people of haleth spoke a different dialect) and I think a lot of humans give more in resources (aka men, power, infantry). I mean personally if I was having at a guess I don’t think (as the latecomers) men got very many places to actually farm and have good land and relied on elvish goods to survive. I think this unevenness kind of spurred this idea that ‘elvishness = superior’, so to make this full circle I think a lot of pre edain culture was lost to make place for diet pepsi version of elf culture that we see human cultures like numenor and gondor have, because that’s better than their orn because elves are SPECIal BETTER AND DON’T DIE LIKE US BROKEN AND FALLEN PEOPLE.  ((screams)) 

Okay let’s talk about the death thing. Human and Mortal and Men all mean the same thing, humans die is not a statement that should be up for debate. But the humans of edain, at least from what we see of Andreth is that this was not how it always was. Humans were once immortal like the elves until they were bad and listened to morgoth and then they became mortal and all sick and ew. 

yeahhhh, I don’t think thats true. I think in-universe its a great myth. I love finrod ah andreth for this reason (also andreth is tolkien’s best female character he ever created and the fact that she’s not in the published silm is why we are in the bad timeline) , but I think humans...always were mortal. 

And thats okay. 

We talked about human ambition above, I think that is fueled by the fact that we all die. We have a timer, so we have to do things now, and that’s not a bad mindset to have. I think it gets humjans into trouble but also, imagine your a human in beleriand, you have children, a family, they might have children someday you want to do what you need to do to make sure THEY have a chance. 

(also lets talk about the fucked up fact that humans are punished for lsitening to morgoth in the first place like im sorry that humans didnt have any other valar looking for them, there was no orome, no fucking chance that they could have met anyone else because no valar came for them only morgoth with his lies so yes humans are bad for listening to the only god like entity that seemed like he wanted to help them, the elves did that too but they had nice gods so they are wise while humans who have illness and sickness and death over their heads listen to a guy with power okay jirt i see your double fuckig stnarad and its STUPID) 

And you can’t wait for that chance, so you leap. I think this is best illustrated by Turin of all people. Turin gets called elvish a lot in looks but in actions, he, like most of his family, are allllllllll human. The bridge in nargothrand even though it’s stupid and ends up horribly kind of reminds me of this. Turin doesn’t have time to wait like Gwindor, and Orodreth, etc do. his people have already been fucking disomated, he’s lost his father, his mother is trapped in enemy territory.  He wants to help. 

Sure it blows up in his face, but yknow...the want to do good is there. 

I think on the whole humans get a bad rep...like they’re called stupid and dumb and ugly by both fandom and in universe elves alike. But I don’t think that’s the case. Humans have a lot more balls and have collectively been through more trauma as a species than I think all of the elves (especially valinorian) elves combined. I think when humans fuck up, whether it be turin or numenor, it’s proof of their incompetence, that their inante (eru-given ability) to have ambition to seek beyond the world they live in for something better for something more is evil and they should be more like the elves, stagnant, already at the height of ‘perfection’, never changing....instead of being humans. Like look at these fools trying to act like than can be GOOD at something, sit down and let these elves be best at everything obviously. How many of you would look at me funny if I said, maybe the race of men was BETTER THAN THE ELVES AT SOMETHING? A lot of you im sure, and someone would have a rebuttle for how I was wrong and how this elf was considered the best. 

(like that post going around how could turin actually be #that pretty to thot his way through all of beleriand? Maybe he just Was like that, sure he may have a little elvish ness but honestly I think that be a funny thing elves say to cover up the fact some elves found a icky human was actually just that fucking hot, because obviously humans could never be that actually hot ever, not to intangle a sindarin mast of a guard, a NOLDORIAN VANYAR-DESSCENT PRINCESS, ect) 

Also just to go back to numenor, ever want an example of why it doesnt work for men to act like elves...look at numenor, early numenor was as elvish as humans could produce....but then they got bored. And then numneor became an empire and everyone eventually had so much of a bad time, eru reshaped the fucking world just to wipe the valar’s ‘humans but better’ ocs off the face of the planet. Like just to stray off topic I personally think men can’t go to valinor 1) because the two trees are actually nuclear, and the whole damn island is chernobyl instant death right there and thats why the valinor elves are like #that (they GLOW for gods shake) 2) the monotonous never changing perfection of valinor while amazing in the short term for humans would eventually drive them crazy. Not to say that the race of men doesn’t like some peace and quite or even humans (like myself) can be obverse to change, even I can admit doing the same thing ever day would drive me crazy. 

This got super rambly, but its been a lot of thoughts Ive been having for a long ass time. Basically, I just want people to talk to me about the atani, edian, race of men, whatever you want to call them. They deserve a lot better and a lot more respect than just playing a supporting role to the elves. 

They didn’t kill all those dragons to be ignored like this. 

[kingofthewilderwest]

Just wanted your opinion on something. Roy's Gate of Truth has the circle for fire alchemy on it. So does this mean that Roy was always meant to have learnt fire alchemy, or his gate has fire alchemy because he learnt it?

Oooooooooooo this is REALLY interesting. I’d never thought through a person’s Gate of Truth and whether it’s about who they innately are (or are fated to be), versus who they have created themselves to be. 

I haven’t followed to see if there’s fandom discussion on the topic, so everything I’m going to postulate below about these doors is going to be my novel ideas. 

Hopefully everything makes sense… I wrote this between 1 and 4 AM.

I think the key to answering this question lies in Father’s Gate of Truth. I’ll get to that… later. Bear with me.

But first.

For readers who didn’t notice this before, every character has a different door design when they open the Portal of Truth. That’s a fascinating detail and one Arakawa wouldn’t have drawn without attention or intent. She’s filled FMA with tiny details, down to naming the country “Amestris” after the wife of Xerxes, or giving essentially all military characters names based off WWII vehicles. She’s plopped in interesting details regarding the Seven Deadly Sins, according to other analyses I’ve seen. From what I know, the punishment for Wrath is supposed to be dismemberment, Lust being smothered in fire… sound familiar? So Arakawa wouldn’t have drawn separate, intricate gates for every character without meaning to for good reason.

So here are three doors for our alchemists, each one of them different:

All of them are detailed but very different. Ed’s and Al’s are more similar to each other than Roy’s is to either of them. Both Ed and Al have designs that roughly look like trees (or plants) stretching to the sky, with roots growing beneath them. 

Edward Elric’s Gate

Ed’s door is covered in Latin and Hebrew words like “Elohim Sabaoth” and “Adonai” - names of G-d, linked together by branches labeled “Sephiroth”…

…as well as, from what admittedly VERY little I know of the Kabbalah, the angels of the Tree of Life. 

(Please don’t quote me as an expert for this stuff. I’m trying my best with this information I’m reading up on, but I’ll freely admit I’m imperfect and with limited knowledge myself. You’re free to nicely educated me if I say something inaccurate; I will be appreciative of learning more and adjusting appropriately).

It’s to note that even in the 2003 book “Fullmetal Alchemist Profiles,” it contains a section on the Kabbalah. To quote the book: 

Some time in the 16th century, the Kabbalah became known throughout the whole of Europe. It seems unlikely that it has any prior connection to alchemy, which developed on its own individual course, but there is one thing that the Kabbalah shares with alchemy: both teach that the world came out of G-d (=one) who created it, and that the human beings (=all) who inhabit the physical world can become closer to G-d through study.

The Sephiroth tree diagram shows the Kabbalah’s Arcana. The Sephiroth tree is comprised of ten spheres (Sephira), three pillars, and 22 paths (channels). Each number has a very specific meaning but we will abbreviate it here.

The tree is essentially a map that shows how the things that came from G-d’s world - a nebulous, untouchable domain - become connected to the physical world of the four basic elements.

What’s interesting is that this book specifically brings up the Kaballah and connects it with the “One is all, all is one” phrase. That’s a phrase central to Amestrian alchemy… at least, to a certain few people who practice Amestrian alchemy. The concept of “One is all, all is one” is a powerful epiphany to Izumi Curtis when she’s struggling through her month of trial in the Briggs mountain wilderness. She passes it onto her students, Ed and Al, and it becomes important to them.

(It’s also a concept that Truth describes itself with… saying it is “perhaps truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one”).

And this concept, more or less, makes its appearance onto Edward Elric’s door.

But why all the names of G-d?

And why this tree with its roots at all?

Does this have something to do with how Ed is like an Icarus, reaching beyond his power to get too close to the sun, a scientist acting too much like God himself? Is this Gate a reflection of that life-influential action in Edward’s life, or a fate set in stone carved in the face of the door? 

Or something else?

Well. I want to contrast this with Father’s door.

Father’s Gate

It’s.

Blank.

Wow.

I think that this door, paired with Father’s conversation with Truth, might give some insight for what’s going on.

Father: Why won’t you become mine, God?Truth: Because you never believed in yourself. You thought you could make God’s power your own. Don’t make me laugh. You think stealing something powerful makes you great? You’re nothing but a cunning thief. You should have stayed satisfied inside the flask where you belong. All you’ve ever done is use the strength of others to grab at godhood. You haven’t grown at all. Father: I wanted to become a perfect being! I wanted to understand God! I wanted to know everything about this world! So, why do you oppose me? Who are you?!Truth: I am what humans call the world… or the universe… or truth… or all… or one. And… I am you. You called Truth “the arbiter of order” that “keeps men in their place.” That’s what you said, wasn’t it? And so, just as you said… I’m going to show you your proper place.Father: Stop! I don’t want to go back. No… I don’t want to be imprisoned there again! Truth: The Truth brings despair to those who dare reach above their station. This is the end you wished for.

What strikes me about this conversation is several things.

Truth has power over the homunculus, the dwarf in the flask, the character we’ve known as Father. Despite the fact Father is a man-made creature and not “directly” from God’s fingertips or God’s typical order of life business (birth, the circle of life, what have you), Truth has control over Father, too. Truth is the one who can arbitrate Father’s punishment. Truth is the one who can put Father in his place. This means that, if we wanted to talk about whether or not Father was Meant or Fated to take his path… whether his actions were part of predestination or design… then Truth’s got just as much power over Father, and just as much power to influence Father’s door… as someone like Mustang, Izumi Curtis, or the Elrics. So Truth conceivably could have given Father his door’s decoration (or lack thereof).

Truth says that Father’s problem is he is a thief who took others’ strengths. Father never gave anything or contributed anything. Furthermore, according to Truth, Father “[hasn’t] grown at all.”If you want to think about people in a tabula rasa-esque respect, then we all allegedly start out as clean slates, with nothing predisposing our minds. It’s through our lives and experiences that we become who we are. When I see Father’s blankass doorway and hear it combined with Truth saying Father never gave anything and never grew… the thought crossed my mind that, “Father’s nothing, then, just like his doorway.” 

Truth chastises Father for not believing in himself or growing himself. This suggests that Father has the free will to have made choices otherwise. Let’s not get deep into the rabbit hole of determinism, free will, and compatibilism… but if Truth is punishing Father for his own actions, and Truth is admonishing Father for never believing himself (with the implication he COULD have believed in himself), then I’d say we have a direction we can interpret the doorways. It’s not Truth creating a blank doorway for Father to fulfill, but Father’s actions influencing what his doorway looks like. 

At least, this is insofar as we want to speculate the Gates of Truth are relevantly connected to the life of the person who opens them. I’m saying this since we could maybe find other ways to interpret this imagery that don’t involve “my choice made this doorway’s design.”

But let’s go with the idea that Father’s actions have “made” his door blank. Then Ed’s door, and Al’s door, and Roy’s door, would come because of what they’ve done.

Considering as Ed made the choice to march beyond God and reach for the sun, and Ed lives in an alchemy-centered philosophy where “One is all, all is one,” his door isn’t too out of line for what we might expect to see, given his life’s biggest decisions and focuses.

Roy Mustang’s Gate

So here we’ve got a screencap of Roy’s gate. Well, part of it. You can see the interlocked triangle pattern and what could be two basilisks weaving through the geometry. There’s a sun-like icon in the bottom center. We also have a circle in the very center of the two triangles.

It’s not exactly the same as the transmutation circle Roy wears on his gloves, nor is it the same as what Berthold Hawkeye tattooed on his daughter’s back.

However, I’d say it’s evocative enough. There’s a sun, the same-ish geometric pattern, and the same use of basilisks or snakes in each pattern. 

So, a reference to Flame Alchemy, as you say.

But it’s not just the act of “oh snap snap spark spark” being represented here.

The inclusion of our snakey snakey friends in the door - which is present in Riza’s tat but not Roy’s glove - harks back to Roy’s origins with Flame Alchemy. How he learned it. How he grew with it. How it changed his life. How these experiences fueled his own motivations and intentional self-aggrandizement.

How he made himself (in contrast to Father, who never grew at all). 

How he made… his Gate of Truth. 

This is how (going back to the Kabbalah idea) he connects the things from his world and life with God’s/Truth’s realm and judgment.

Roy’s life does circle around Flame Alchemy, but it’s because of his most influential memories and the greatest decisions he’s made. It’s because of Flame Alchemy that he met Riza and learned how to use this force. It’s because Mustang decided to take this dangerous alchemy to the military that he became a State Alchemist. It’s because he became a State Alchemist that, when he obeyed Amestrian military orders, he became a major (haha, get the pun) player in the Ishvalan War. It’s because he participated in ethnic genocide and became so conscious-stricken about it that he decided to become Führer. And ever since then, Roy’s life and decisions and motivations and morality and choices and determination have all centered around this goal: become Führer, change his country for the better.

Father didn’t make himself anything. Father only tried to steal from others. Father tried to purge himself of the Seven Deadly Sins and leave himself with nothing - literally make himself an empty door with emptiness. Father’s door is as empty as what he made himself. Roy Mustang’s been trying to grow himself into a responsible leader who can scale up the ranks of the military and assume control of his nation. Roy’s door is a summation of his motivations: the causes which have made him this way, and what he’s using as an inspirational launching point to make himself better.

So I’d say there’s a case to be made that, as you said, Mustang’s “gate has fire alchemy because he learnt it.” But more than that, it’s what he’s used to craft himself as a moral person.

We have the choice to try to better ourselves. Roy’s decisions and actions to try to better himself have stemmed from his experiences surrounding Flame Alchemy.

The Message of Choice in Fullmetal Alchemist

This idea fits with the messages emanating across Fullmetal Alchemist. FMA isn’t about fate. It’s about the power of your choice. 

I mean… even in the first titular opening, YUI is singing:

I still have too long a life ahead just to give up and drop off all these dreams. I just want to try and fix all the things that I’ve left undone. I thought that I could reach something carried over I saw within my dreams, and yet I stumble on all my actions on this road that’s in front of me. It’s not like I want things to go back to the way before. All I want is to open my eyes and feel the sun. 

You can’t let every single sin end with tears; wear them proudly on your sleeve along with your fears. It’s like you’re waiting for someone to draw near. In a maze of emotion, there comes a day where you find a way to escape - a blank page, now I’m writing out my own fate; I’ve grown tired of running away from a thing called reality.

FMA’s story and its themes are very much hinged on choice. 

Scar doesn’t have to be a serial killer terrifying State Alchemists. He can choose to help his people not through terrorism and revenge, but through rebuilding and support. He can unite his people together to save Amestris. He can act as a religious authority in Ishval once the land gets reopened, helping to preserve the cultural and religious identity of his people. Through Scar’s choices, he moves through a powerful redemption arc that shows that, while we can’t always control other peoples’ horrendous acts, we don’t have to commit horrendous acts in turn to make a meaningful difference. The character arc works because of his choices. He will listen to his God and see what his God’s will is. God’s authority and power isn’t irrelevant. But Scar is the one who must enact that choice himself. He is not fated to one path and his people don’t have to be fated to die.

It’s about his choice.

Ed and Al didn’t have to bring Trisha back to life, but because they tried, they reaped the consequences. Truth took away their bodies. It’s their choices that put them in this unpleasant state, and it’s their choices and determination that lead them to recovering Ed’s arm and Al’s body.

It’s about their choice.

Roy and Riza live a life of guilt due to Ishval. There’s no way that they can undo the damage they’ve done. There will forever be consequences because of their sins. But they can choose to do whatever is in their power to take responsibility for their wrongs, to provide relief for victims of the past, and to try to prevent future tragedies.

It’s about their choice, too.

And thus it makes sense for us to read the Gates as “everyone made their gates the way they are” rather than “the gates made them the way they are.” It’s because FMA resonates with the understanding of our choices, good or bad, and what comes of them.

Roy Mustang’s gate by this reading then says that it’s through his choices that his gate has Flame Alchemy. It’s about his choice to follow orders in Ishval that led to his guilt. It’s about his choice to become Führer to take better responsibility for Ishval’s tragedy. It’s about how Roy uses Flame Alchemy, yeah. Because Flame Alchemy is connected to his greatest experiences, tragedies, dreams, and self-directed growth.

[h1ddentrolls]

@kndhypetrain requested Suki!

Suki had Djed, Partied, and Danced the night away. So much that she almost could not feel her feet anymore. She was sure she would later, In the form of quite painful sores. She could take it off course, the entire snack pack could, and usually did. Except Guy, he hated the feeling of discomfort ans was usually the first to tap out at around 2 am. Not Suki though, no she almost liked it, it was like a trophy.

Just to show off that Queen Poppy was not the only one who could party until dawn.

Well now it was time to clean up, and she desperately wanted to go home instead. She would help, obviously, but she would much rather be snuggled in her bed listening to music, with tea and a book. Not that she'd ever admit that. Suki sighed, surveiling her friends, minus Guy, making quick work of the messy patch of land they had chosen to destroy the night before. Her eyes landed on Branch for a moment.

The green clad troll had actually decided to come to this party, for Poppy. He had kept his distance the entire night, watching from the tendril of a tree, but even so, it meant a lot that he had shown at all. Suki grinned, glad to see that he had a smile on, while it was extremely subtle.

She returned her gaze to the mess in front of her, and sighed. Trash, discarded party favors, the works. Suki had never minded doing work, she liked to be useful, but being as tired as she was, she felt annoyance edging in her mind. This made her careless, and not fully notice the long cut she had gotten on her palm when she grabbed a broken bottle.

She hissed, pulling herself straight and holding her wrist tight as the rainbow liquid began draining from the wound.

Biggie was the first to notice, dropping whatever he had and bounding to her with surprising speed. Her other friends close behind. Her big blue friend knealed, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"Oh my gosh, Suki! Are you OK?" Biggie asked, clearly mesmerized, and disgusted by the strangely beautiful wound.

"I'm alright, my hand might need a little help though." Suki said through gritted teeth. By this point her friends had surrounded her. Of she was honest, they were crowding her. She'd had enough of crowds for one night, but she said nothing, since she knew it was only out of concern.

Cooper had bent his head down to be looking the closest at the cut. "Wow D, that's horrible!" He glanced to her then back at the hand.

"It's not that bad guys, don't worry, it doesn't even hurt that bad." Suki assured. This seemed to sooth them, if only a little. Except Branch who only raised a brow. This was followed by him taking a step closer, and with some care, taking her hand by the wrist. He examined it, clearly being thorough.

"It could get infected, hold on." And with that, Branch sprinted to the tree he had previously been pirched on for the night. He climbed it with practiced ease. He returned a moment later with a tired old satchel.

"Oh yes Branch, share with us your wild man healing techniques." Poppy teased, it seemed to work, since Branch rolled his eyes.

After a moment of rifling through the back, Branch stood with a roll of bandages, a water bottle, and some sort of round metal container. With a nod of his head, Suki held out her hurt palm to him.

Suki and her friends watched Branch clean the wound, all holding their breaths. Once he had finished, he pulled the small container out and opened it to reveal some sort of ointment.

"What the hell is that?" Satin and Chenille asked together.

"Its a healing remedy." Branch answered, clearly without the intention of clarifying further. The sting that followed Branch rubbing the paste into her wound wasn't terrible, but she knew it would be quite itchy later. Branch huffed through his nose. "There," it was then that everyone prepared for his lecture.

"You need to be more careful, all of you. Imagine if that bottle was there during the party?" Branch crossed his arms like a disappointed parent. Everyone was silent.

"I... Actually agree." Poppy replied, everyone seemed astonished. "It wouldn't hurt to keep refreshments in plastic, right?" This got a nod from most everyone.

Suki had to admit she was embarrassed, she had not been paying attention and now they were being chewed out by Branch. They all knew it was out of love, but that didn't make it any fun.

Oh how she wished she had her bed, and her music too loud to hear. The stinging In her hand should be numb, like her feet.

Suki knelt down, taking the broken bottle that had injured her in her hand. She noticed that the beautiful rainbow liquid had dropped down from the sharp edge that had cut her, creating some, lovely, yet unsettling art.

"So its settled then, once we finish cleaning up, we can make a royal announcement! Stating that there will now be NO glass bottles or sharp objects allowed at Queen Poppy's parties, and if they are allowed, they must be disguarded properly!" Poppy announced, Suki was somewhat surprised by the queen's resolve. She had no doubt that Branch had rubbed off on her.

Although she did feel part of her heart sink. She was never going to get to her bed today, was she?

Now after everyone has made sure sever times that Suki was fine, they had returned to work, of course they all did give her a sparing glance every now and then. Well almost everyone had returned to work, Branch had retreated a few steps away from her. Watching her every move.

It agitated her, but she didn't bother him about it for a while.

Until it had been several minutes, of course. She stood up straight, and eyed him. "OK Branch, what's with the shadow?"

"Just making sure you don't get tetanus." He deadpanned.

"Thought your magic remedy would take care of that." Suki replied, a certain ice to her voice, however it was playful. She smiled, to make shre Branch knew.

"Its a remedy, not a miracle cure." Branch shrugged. "I'm pretty sure you're fine, you'd be dead by now if it was really bad. At best we'd have to cut off your hand." His voice was rather nonchalant, but she could tell there was relief well hidden under it.

"Well that's just great Branch. I need my hand to spin disks!" Suki replied.

Branch rolled his eyes. "And 'Raise the roof' too?" Suki faked a gag.

"Raise the roof? Really?"

Branch shrugged. "I read it in a book. It was about a lost rock star, I think." Suki's ears twitched.

"You've read it?" She did her best to hide the excitement in her voice. Branch appeared surprised to hear that she had read it.

"Uh, yeah, a few years ago. Its pretty good." Branch placed a hand behind his head, quickly getting lost in his hair. "I used to read a lot. I mean, I still do, but I read maybe too much back then. It helped me feel more connected to people, even if they weren't..." He sighed. "... Real."

Branch stood for a second, then took a breath through his nose. "So uh, I guess you've heard of it." Suki smiled at his attempt to take the heaviness out of the moment.

"Well yeah, its only one of my favorite books. Baby's gotta signed copy." She grinned. It was then that she felt bad, Branch had just shared something personal, and she didn't really have much to say about it. Maybe she could share something too?

"I uh, actually love to read. I read every morning, listening to soft music, with a tea." She grimaced. "Yeahhh, I know, pretty basically right?" Suki was not expecting Branches' reaction.

"What? I don't think so, I read everynight before I go to bed." His ears wiggled, she could tell he was sheepish. "It helps me decompress." Suki smiled, nodding in agreement.

This was nice, she had not really connected with Branch until now. She felt bad, they had been part of the same friend group, sure, but they had never really had a chance to truly be friends personally.

It was nice to know they had something in common.

Suki let out an embarrassed laugh. "Hey, could you keep this between us? Its kinda personal, and I wanna keep it that way. Least until someone gets nosey and figures it out." Suki expected a laugh in response, but got none. Instead Branch smiled, it was soft, and not one of experience, but it was real.

"Of course, I'm good at keeping secrets. Privacy is hard to keep."

Suki was touched. She scolded herself for thinking that Branch would laugh and give away her information like it was nothing, as if Branch wasn't a very private person.

It was nice, to share something with him. It felt like this was where their friendship could truly begin.

With a cut to the palm.

(Sorry this took so long!!! I was on the road all day and was having trouble coming up with ideas. I decided to settle on a nice friend fic between Suki and Branch. I hope you like it!!)

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 1 aka “Stranger Danger”

I’m rereading The Property of Hate by @modmad and overanalyzing it to hell and back because i can’t stop thinking about the story and getting madder and madder about the PUNS I keep finding. I’m scratching the itch and trying to find All The Details. Current plan is just to go chapter by chapter, feel free to chime in with stuff I miss! There’ll be a masterpost up soon linking everything in one spot

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally. Masterpost

Okay, so just a million things right off the bat on page fucking one

‘The Hook’ is of course a term for the beginning of a story. Grabbing one’s attention and convincing them to go off on an adventure, so to speak

Speechboxes! Everybody’s got their own distinctive ‘way of speaking’ in this story. RGB’s are rectangular, but those straight edges are offset by these really loopy, meandering, and elegant speech tails. It’s just. Such immediate characterization.

Like, even the pose. The way RGB introduces himself by crouching on her drawers like an incredibly dapper gremlin. It creates a similar contrast to his speechbubbles- prim and proper existing simultaneously with fae and kinda ridiculous

So considering we’ve got a fairly detailed picture of roses up on Hero’s wall on the comics opening page I think we can assume this is some type of Important maybe. Just off the top of my head, isn’t the rose Englands national flower? IDK how relevant that is outside of RGB being incredibly, incredibly British

Oh god damnit I just scrolled down to go to the next page and fffFFFUCKING BLUE ROSES ON THE BUTTONS okay. Blue rose symbolism! They don’t exist naturally. You won’t just find one in the wild outdoors, so they represent the impossible, the mysterious and achievable.

Seeing blue roses right off the bat = important story theme probably. Impossible dreams are my first thought. RGB’s seemingly hopeless plan to save a world everyone else has given up to be doomed. Hero’s wish to go the fuck back home please after she’s had her fill of deadly adventure. RGB and Hero are setting out to achieve the impossible, defeat Her, and save the World of Make Believe

Last point for the first page; RGB’s drool. Except it’s not drool, we later learn it’s equivalent to blood, and he bleeds emotions he’s feeling. While recruiting Hero, RGB’s prominent feelings are, unsurprisingly in hindsight, a fair load of sadness but tinged with a dose of cheer. His last Hero failed, and every single one before that, but he’s still daring to have hope, the absolute madman. What he’s actually dripping most though is what looks like curiosity- it may be mixed with a bit of anger, which I wouldn’t begrudge the guy. Angry that he has to start over, again, angry that his world is dying, angry that he’d the only one doing anything about it

Ok but imagine you woke up to find a man crouched on your bedside table smiling this super-wide “TRUST ME!! :)” smile and blood dribbling out of it and welling up between the teeth. Like, I’m laughing, but I’d be screaming

OKAY BUT FINALLY WE’RE PAST THE FIRST PAGE. We get a clear look at Hero’s drawings taped to the wall, and check it- one kinda looks like the Idea they run into a few chapters ahead. The other picture might also be showing the House of Paint? I mean, there’s a sun there so that’s off, but the clouds and steps leading up to Madras’ door look right

And now we get Hero’s speechboxes! They’re circular in contrast to RGB’s boxes, and colored orange. The balloon tails don’t loop-de-loop all over the page like RGBs but they’re not ‘standard’ either- there’s always this little jag to them closer to the text

RGB’s speechbubbles are actually one of the plainest/most conventional in the entire story

Excluding the tails of course. Those never ever take the most direct or efficient path to his face. Yeah, it adds an impression of silliness, but also speaks to the fact that RGB takes creative and weird solutions out of situations. I’ll laugh about the entire Click arc later but like really. REALLY. RGB DID ALL OF THAT

I love how Hero’s first actual words to RGB send him immediately into ?????????????. He keeps up this huge grin for most of The Hook and this is the first time his “I’m your friendly neighborhood TV nothing to see here!!” demeanor gets shaken up

the ladder hurts Hero’s feet, so why does she sleep on the top bunk? The bottom bunk doesn’t have any bedding on it so it’s not like she’s regulated to the top by any kind of sibling dibs

Weird... weird detail to be showing us modmad..... 

“Are you a monster?” “the very worst one” that’s a lotta blue dripping off yer chin there, stop crying

The mom is a character for two (2) seconds and even she gets her own unique speechbox; blue, fuzzy and barely connected, which does a really great job of communicating that she’s basically still asleep without ever having to see her

‘happy boi about to bring newest kidnapping to the sky world’

That’s a Mary Poppins reference, that is. RGB exclaiming ‘spit spot!’ earlier also got be thinking of Poppins

Clouds look so fluffy out of airplane windows, I’m honestly jealous

Doors! Gotta wonder where they all lead. Gotta wonder if they’ll get more use past this outside Hero’s recovery Time

I’ve just spend like 15m trying to figure out what the symbols above the doors are and I THINK it’s alchemy? “libra sign upside down” is luckily an easily searchable term, and that symbol in particular is for gas becoming liquid

I think the door beyond that has the alchemical symbol for gold? I’m not having luck on the others, including the door they actually go through here/its sister door Hero opens after the Elastic Valley fiasco.

RGB are you pissed that you had to tell this kid your name yourself? Are you upset about manners?? She’s like 7 dude cmon have you met a 7 year old. Thinking about it, possibly not, all the confirmed Other Heroes are definitely older- they all come across to me as adults

well, actually, who even knows how old Assok is. They might be the exception

The little ‘peephole’ eye popping open when the right key is close is nice atmospheric detail, but it kinda makes me wonder if there’s a person like. Seeing out of that eye. Whether someone gets a little notification every time one of these doors is opened

It’s the World of Make Believe! Stupendous! Break-taking! Modmad is exceptional at colors and beautiful environments full of personality! Hero’s last chance to turn back is gone!

Hero only being awake for 20 minutes before becoming Instantly Tired = biggest actual mood, my god. Me too sweetie

Except I can’t blame trees. And a sort of magical jet-lag effect. Yo, are sleeping tree’s making you sleepy the same sorta thing where when one person yawns everyone yawns

I just really like how this tail loops around RGB’s physical actual legs. It makes it seem like speech is a tangible thing that interacts with the world and that you could, like, touch or something. all it’s missing is a shadow

God, fuck me. That’s the yellow brick road. God dammit. Son of a bitch.

RGB, pg 14: do not touch me, do not look at me, don’t speak to me, you have tentative permission to breathe

RGB from the Market onwards: carries her multiple times (admittedly, almost always exactly like you shouldn’t), picks her up, swings her around, hugs her when she’s scared of the dark, ‘I Have Longer Legs, Hop On’ piggybacks, protecting her by putting his own bod in harms way, general Manhandling of Child

I kid, I kid, it’s more complex than that. For one, RGB doesn’t want Hero getting hurt cause she’s Important and has Heroing she can’t do if she’s injured. Second, that whole “don’t get attached” thing gets thrown out the window on like day 2

“I’ve only known Hero for a day and a half but if anything happened to her I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself”

RGB is honestly... super bad at not attaching to people. honestly, actually terrible at it

Ooh! Those flowers! I didn’t realize those always happen when Hero’s sleeping. They also look like she’s drawn them herself! That’s honestly… lethally adorable

Fun fact technicolor dream shell snail changes colors every panel

RGB bleeds static? What emotion is that? I dig it, unconscious is an emotion and i feel it in my soul

w...white noise.... god DAMMIT

ey, the tree’s look different in the light of day- all those blurry fairy light ‘leaves’ are gone now. 

!! Hero glows the exact same way when she’s asleep! RGB, however, is not. Tree’s have leaves when they dream, huh

oh god tree’s have LEAVES when they DREAM

...we’ll come back to this thought when we get to the sick sun tree cause that thing is a whole other can of Lore worms

In a different direction, there must be some sort of difference between Tree Dreaming and People Dreaming, because dreaming trees do NOT trigger RGB’s weird stuntman nightmares

these particular trees are also see-through; i can’t remember if they’re all like this throughout the world? will have to pay attention and see

oh- OH. also just made the connection for why trees provide a saf(er) haven- bottled nightmares will very shortly be used to dispel fears. Dreams repel Fears! It’s best to sleep near tree’s because just you dreaming might not be enough to keep things at bay while your rest

And the chapter’s finished off with a new character and new speechbox to go with it! It’s the first to use a different font and text color to our main characters

Honestly though, what is UP with the Butterfly? It’s clearly keeping close tabs on them, and only speaks to Hero when RGB is unconscious or otherwise occupied. It clearly doesn’t wanna be seen by him, which is shady. It shows up like twice? And the other time RGB and Hero don’t even know it’s there and listening. Between that and the Eyes, like… does it have it’s own agenda and interests or is it an agent of Hate? Idk man maybe I’ll pick up on more Butterfly stuff on this readthrough

*notices that the plant it was resting on withers once it flies away* ... that’s no good. especially if that butterfly can do the same to trees

...... ah. it kinda can. Consider, please, Hate’s likely role in the demise of the Sun, and Her confirmed ability to smother them in [-----]

Butterfly’s parting words: “be wise”. Hero’s next and immediate action: doodle RGB’s face

And that’s the Hook! Join me next time when Hero has a fun play date with some new friends everything goes wrong almost instantly.

[ghostmiracles]

quest development: the spiritual journeys of reika titov (1)

this post is kind of gigantic, but for the purpose of this series, moving through the arc development is best, since we have already covered arc development with theia, but for this series we need to establish what this character’s arcs are like for the quest set development i am about to do to make very much sense.

so without further ado... ^_^

(tw/cw for abuse and lesbophobia)

Book 1: The Aspen Tree

1► It’s hard to believe, but this part of your life actually happened.

This Arc is about Reika making herself the villain, and trying her best to see it as something amazing and cool. She goes through lots of failed schemes, lots of villainy that ends up more heroic, that she tries to justify through some vague stupid excuse that makes it seem like she’s not just doing it to be nice.

But she starts to get sick of that whole thing. She starts to process the fact that it really isn’t for her, even though she wants it to be.: But she starts to get sick of that whole thing. She starts to process the fact that it really isn’t for her, even though she wants it to be.

Oki, so widely expanding on that basic idea -

This book starts a little while after Reika became the Darkweaver, maybe a year. She has spent the past year really acclimating herself to what things are like now – her new powers, her basic experience as a Dark Walker, etc. She has mostly kept to herself during that time period, and has decided to really re-enter society. I am thinking that she might even start trying to attend school, but after being out for a year, things are very messy.

There is a lot of rumour and stuff about what Reika was doing during her gap year. Lots of these rumours are very bad, and lead to her being kind of socially shunned. Reika tries to involve herself in [insert school club here], but things keep getting ruined by very very messy stuff. Reika gets shoved into the role of a villain, and tries to live up to the role, but then after a big scheme where she really hurts someone, Reika realizes that maybe being a villain is not what she really wants. She decides that when she graduates high school, she will change everything about herself completely and become a hero. A redefinition, in essence.

Quest 1: Reika tries to get involved in [insert school club here]. She throws herself full-force into it. But everything keeps getting interrupted. Everyone keeps side-eying Reika, and she gets dragged into messy villainous stuff. She gets a bad reputation, and the club stuff by the end of this quest starts to seem very very messy and unworkable. This quest ends when Reika decides that if everyone is going to call her a villain, she might as well become one.

Quest 2: Reika throws herself into a big villainous scheme, I am thinking that it is probably something involving the Child of the Sun, who is part of some School-adjacent group. Maybe this scheme involves kidnapping her at an alumnus gala and doing something magically to seal her away to blot out the sun, or basically kill her in a symbolic way. This definitely visually involves shooting her with a bow and arrow. I think that Reika teams up with some sort of vampire alliance to do this, or rather that she is doing it for them. This quest ends when she does it and then the Headmaster of the Bleak Academy appears at her door to try to recruit her to the Bleak Academy. (This is, of course, deeply upsetting, along with the damage she just did to things.)

Quest 3: This quest gets very very psychological, as the labyrinth in it is completely Reika's troubled mindscape. This is represented by a complex puzzle box that she drew out of the Child of the Sun when she did whatever she did to her. In her final weeks of school, Reika works desperately to solve the puzzle and pass her classes, with the hope that the puzzle box will contain the answers she needs. When it comes down to it, the puzzle box is empty, and that is its own kind of answer. The answer that she is going to have to figure it all out herself.

Book 2: Oleander and Rosebay

2► There’s some illusion or trick here.

So then Reika tries her best to be nice. She tries her best to be more like a hero, even though society is trying its best to make her be a villain. She just wants you to like her! That’s all she really wants! But it’s all hard.

During this Arc, she befriends a boy around her age named Mikhail Nemetov. His family is abusive, and Reika empathizes with him, and spends a big portion of the Arc trying to help him get out of his bad situation. They kind of have a bit of a romance, and Reika really connects with Mikhail. He becomes her only friend.

And then Mikhail reveals his true intentions. He isn’t a sweet, shy teenage boy. (Well, he is still a teenage boy, but…) He’s a powerful enemy of the world, an Excrucian Deceiver, who created a family for himself to create a situation to lure Reika in, to gain her trust, so that he could do his best to convert her to his cause, to recruit her into a war against the world.

So to expand upon this -

Reika has finished her second-to-last year of high school. This book is set during her vacation. She's know as a hardcore villain for what she did to the Child of the Sun, but she's at this point very much not sure that was really what she wanted to do.

Reika decides that she is going to become a hero. She (of course) does not process how impossible this will be, given who she is.

Early on in this book she meets a sad boy her age named Mikhail Nemetov. His family is abusive, and this story centers a lot on Reika's romance with him, or rather, his courtship of her. She falls for it hook, line, and sinker because she is comphet-ing, and because he is one of the only people in her life who accepts her as a hero. Mikhail sees her as a hero first and foremost even, and what villain looking for redemption wouldn't obsess over the person who sees her as completely who she wants to be.

This book really builds up to the reveal that Mikhail is not the sweet, shy boy Reika sees him as, but that he is an Excrucian Deciever who created a false family for himself to lure Reika in and gain her trust, so that he could try to recruit her into a war against the world.

Quest 1: Reika gets excited about being a hero. She posits lots of ways that it could work. She meets Mikhail. She starts to crush on Mikhail. This quest is kind of just a glorious exploration of Reika's decision, but even it has a dark side. This quest ends when Reika makes a full decision to help Mikhail out of his abusive household.

Quest 2: This is about Reika helping Mikhail get out of his situation, and is very focused on their romance set-up. Reika does cool stuff, and ultimately, Reika gets Mikhail out of his abusive situation. This is accompanied by romantic music and confetti raining from the sky! (That may or may not be literal.)

Quest 3: I am thinking that this is about Reika unknowingly navigating Mikhail's complicated trap. Throughout this whole quest, Reika is not aware that Mikhail is dangerous (despite overwhelming signs). It is clear to the audience, with lots of dramatic irony, but it is something that Reika does not at all catch onto. This is basically their full-on relationship set-up, or rather explicitly Mikhail's seduction of Reika. This quest and book ends with them dating, and Reika in some deep ways under his sway.

Book 3: The Ebony Tree and the Shrike

3► There’s something that rings false about the threats you face here.

Reika traverses a literal labyrinth in this Arc. It’s a representation of her tangled-up emotions, the way she’s majorly torn between two ways of life – the life of a hero and the life of a villain, the Reika who is and the Reika who the world expects her to be. Mikhail is trying to corrupt her, and make her into a villain, which symbolizes in a way the world’s expectations of Reika.

She reaches the center of the labyrinth, defeats Mikhail, and then she decides to just be who she wants to be, even if that’s not totally something consistent, and even if she can’t figure out how to make it work. She decides to just live for herself instead of listening to what people tell her to be.

To expand -

Quest 1: This is about Reika's new relationship. This is about her “bliss” with Mikhail. He's come into a lot of money he inherited from an old aunt or something. She is constantly on his arm, and he is constantly buying her fancy things, showing her off. Reika starts to think that maybe her shortcut into society could be through Mikhail. There is also, I think, a hasty proposal. But then as the honeymoon period starts to wear off, she starts to see the problems. She starts to see that things might not be as good as she is thinking, but none of it is really enough for a full indictment yet. Just enough to make her question.

Quest 2: Reika starts cheating on Mikhail with a girl. The girl does not like Mikhail, and tries to do her best to get Reika to dump him, but Reika insists that Mikhail is all she has. Meanwhile, Mikhail is really trying to influence and corrupt Reika. He is performing a flower rite with the goal of shoving an excruciated estate into her and making her a mimic. Mikhail tells her about his plans at the end of this quest – attracting dangerous attention and being praised by an enemy – but with how she's been during her secret affair, Reika actually starts to really deeply “what the fuck” about Mikhail.

Quest 3: This is Reika trying to get out of the cage of Mikhail's grooming and love. Reika trying to break out of things before Mikhail finishes his Flower Rite and uses her as the tool he needs to fight the world. This quest culminates with Reika breaking up with Mikhail before he finishes the Flower Rite, and deciding to stick her nose into stopping him.

Quest 4: This is a slow race towards the end of the Flower Rite, but every fight with Mikhail is a chance to be drawn back in again. This is Reika's confused flurry with everything on the line. And it ends with Reika stopping Mikhail from his Flower Rite, but he gets away.

Book 4: The Abraxas Rose

4► The trick is about to be revealed.

Reika embarks on a great quest, something very very upwards. I am leaning towards something that other heroes and villains are striving for as well. Something very mythic and Greek. She’s decided that this is the sort of thing she does these days. She’s decided that this is who she is. But what she’s not letting on is that part of her motivation is that she wants people to see her as a hero for doing this. She wouldn’t admit it, but somewhere in her subconscious, that’s the reason why.

Reika reaches the target, completes the quest, is the one to complete it, before anyone else can, and because of it, she starts to become a bit more confident in herself, in her decision to be who she wants to be. She starts to get a bit more sure of herself, and returns home with her prize (which I’m conceptualizing as some sort of artifact or something).

To expand -

This new version very much involves the fact that Mikhail is still out there, and now that Reika is out of his grasp, he's just going to try to do this with another girl. This also involves the mythic hero quest that Reika thinks will help people see as a hero. She doesn't want to admit it, but that's a big part of what's going on. Yes, the actions she's taking are good, but they're by no means done for pure reasons. Parts of it are even motivated by hate and petty revenge.

This book ends with Reika killing Mikhail in what is presumably saving the world, and the fanfare that comes along with this, or rather, the presumed fanfare.

Quest 1: With Mikhail gone, Reika searches for a heroic quest she can take on to become a hero, to be treated as one. This quest has a lot of Reika trying out various tasks, the beginnings of several failed adventures that go wrong in Reika's trademark messy and not-totally-morally-good style. This quest ends with Reika finding out a large conspiracy with Mikhail at its center.

Quest 2: This quest focuses a lot on Reika fighting and investigating the shadowy organization Abraxas, which is basically Mikhail's mysterious villainous organization. She takes lots of decisive action, and starts to get to the bottom of the whole conspiracy, but then this quest ends when Mikhail comes back into Reika's life, asking her to join him in his schemes, and she pretty much falls for it.

Quest 3: This quest centers on Reika's time inside of Abraxas, trying to get out of Mikhail's clutches yet again. This quest has a lot of focus on the metaphorical labyrinth that is the internal politics of Abraxas, and on the labyrinth that is Reika's emotions. I am thinking that there is another girl who is Mikhail's intended vessel. Reika starts to fall in love with her, and kind of starts to realize that she needs to save her from Mikhail. This quest ends with Reika really properly challenging Mikhail and him fleeing to the spiritual realms with the girl, goading Reika into chasing him.

Quest 4: This quest focuses a lot on Reika's emotional state as she explores the spiritual realms in search for clues about Mikhail's whereabouts. At times, she considers leaving the other girl to Mikhail, but knows that in the long run that would make things worse. This quest culminates in Reika finding the location of Mikhail's chapel, and making preparations to descend into it.

Quest 5: This is Reika's final descent into Mikhail's chapel, her final descent into the maelstrom. Her final fight with Mikhail, her final challenge in breaking away from him. This quest is also very focused on the fact that Reika is very conceptually lost by the idea of ending everything with Mikhail. The fact that she uses her opposition to him as a sort of identity of her own, a place in the world, and that without him, that identity will be lost. And then deep in Mikhail's chapel, Reika and Mikhail fight one final battle, and she kills him in a moment of intense emotional catharsis.

Book 5: Wormwood's Flight

5► ...and it’s going to change everything.

Reika thought the hero-quest would make people like her, thought that they would start to see her as a hero because of it, but she was wrong. She’d been telling herself she was going to just do what she wanted to do, but she can’t help but get all caught up in what people think of her. She gets really depressed, and during this time has some weird, dark adventures that are a metaphor for her mental state. She gets hurt a lot, and fails a lot, and several times nearly dies.

Then she actually dies, and is brought back by an outside force, then has to work to recapture her Blasphemy, shove it back inside of her and save everyone.

After that transcendence of death, Reika takes a new lease on life. In the afterlife she saw something that really changes how she viewed things, that really changes how things work for her. She finds something there that allows her to actually live for herself and be happy. I think it’s likely rooted in the fact that she has a circle of friends already, but doesn’t really realize it. She has people who care about her. She just hasn’t noticed that they all actually care deeply about her. She’s had these people for a while, but her own thought processes have been holding her back. So then she lives for herself, and take care of her friends, and is happy.

To expand -

This is the point where Reika really has to face how lost she is. She thought she would be a hero, but the world is calling her fight with Mikhail an empty lover's quarrel. Despite having broken free of Mikhail, society still defines her by her relationship with him. And this is basically the story of how Reika breaks free of society's definitions of herself, which is also a coming out metaphor that is also literal.

Quest 1: This quest focuses on Reika trying to enjoy her Mikhail-free life, but shadows and ghosts that represent both the shadow of Mikhail in her life, and society's perceptions of her haunt her. Reika tries to be excited about her life, but keeps getting brought down again, especially by the fact that society isn't treating her as the hero like she wanted. Society is treating her like an accessory. I mean, the parts of it that are not treating her as Mikhail's co-conspirator. After all, she is the girl who put out the sun for a while after trying to kill the Child of the Sun. This quest ends with Reika really losing sight of all the ways her life has improved and falling into despair.

Quest 2: This quest centers on Reika trying to do her own thing and ignore all of her problems. This quest is a time of false celebration and forced smiles. This quest is that confused attempt to say that your abuse didn't hurt you, in a vain attempt to avoid being defined by it. This quest closes on Reika having a dream of Mikhail telling her he's proud of her, and the whole thing feels to real, to the level where she wakes up crying and wondering if maybe he didn't really die.

Quest 3: This quest is about Reika trying to make sense of everything, trying to get to the bottom of the whether or not Mikhail is alive. A part of this is fueled by a desire to have him gone, but a big part of it also is fueled by a fucked-up sense of love. The desire to fix things, to make him better. The desire to kill him again and thus excise things forever. And then Reika finds her answers at the end of this quest. She realizes that Mikhail is dead, but a part of him will always be with her, because that shared abuse experience is never going to go away, no matter how much she wishes she could get rid of it.

Quest 4: This quest is about Reika taking it upon herself to take out the remains of Abraxas, ending it all once for all. This quest goes to a lot of very dark places, because Reika is still lost, even though she has come to terms with her history with Mikhail in a way. The scars still remain, and her life still hasn't been pieced back together, but this is maybe a last chance. This quest also delves a bit into some history, and addresses the fact that Reika still thinks she loves him, but that love is realistically a way of clinging to something that feels real. This quest ends when she fights the new leader of Abraxas and dies.

Quest 5: This quest is Reika's time outside of the world, primarily, her time dead. This quest is a time of painful transcendance. This quest is when Reika realizes that she doesn't love Mikhail, and that she never loved him. This quest is when Reika realizes that she's a lesbian. This quest is when Reika realizes that the world doesn't matter, and that the world doesn't get to tell her who she is, because she is the only one who gets to define that sort of thing. And then Reika returns to the world, pulls the shadows back into her kicking and screaming, comes out as gay, and finally starts living.

next time we will be going over how i convert these arc writeups into a distinct quest set for telling these stories! ^_^

[purposefullypassionate-blog]

A Brief History of Being Enough

I ruin things. I routinely compare myself to a natural disaster because there is nothing I connect more with than a hurricane. I am the destructive force and the body being destroyed at the same time. If that’s not confusing enough, try being this overwhelming force while also hearing whispers in your ear of “You’re not enough.” How can I be so much and not enough at the same time? One fun word that packs this into one nice little check box is: anxiety

This sounds like a simple word that might appear when you’re nervous for a test or have to publicly speak when you’re not used to it. But for me, this word means an entire universe is compacted into every inch of my body. People throw away this word, because they “feel so anxious omg,” and while there is some validity to having anxiety without a chemical imbalance, I don’t think they understand what it’s like to have every atom belonging to you exploding simultaneously. This happens every time I feel any sort of emotion. It’s an undefinable experience, except to say there are stars super-nova-ing inside me. I become consumed by my heart, and I physically feel it come in waves, like a sea is eager to escape me. Some days, I can’t even get out of bed. It has placed itself under my skin, in my chest, whispering my worst fears, making it hard to breathe. 

Breathing is the equivalent of swimming. I know if I stop treading, I’ll start to sink, but my body becomes so overwhelmed by the water it’s surrounded in that I forget to tread and eventually slip into a numb, unconscious state of drowning. Isn’t that stupid? I have to periodically remind myself to perform an involuntary bodily function. (It’s also incredibly ironic because I believe I am a hurricane, and how can a hurricane drown?) There are times when I realize I haven’t been breathing at all. I’ve just been standing there holding my breath because the thought of existing makes me want to stay under the covers while the morning sun creeps through the slits of my shades, reminding me I need to brush off the dust of sleep. I become so careful and apologetic in every aspect, including physical, due to the fear of becoming the hurricane to another person. While I want to be enough, I don’t want to be too much. It’s exhausting, and at the end of the day I use what little energy I have to collapse into a ball on my bed because I am out of breath. 

This can only happen after I eat, of course, because usually I eat like a bird the entire day because of the nausea. Crackers and La Croix are two of my best friends. I have one pack of saltines I keep in my desk, and there’s always a mango La Croix in the fridge right next to me; I don’t notice it until I get home and sit at my desk and realize I’m starving, but can’t eat anything because I feel like it will only want to escape my body. It’s that fun word back in my life: anxiety. It makes me sick to my stomach. My mom, AKA my anchor, noticed this the week I had to spend about 3 hours a day in the guidance counselor’s office because of issues with a high school stalker. I wouldn’t eat dinner, and my usual after-school-craving for Nutella had vanished. She knew something was wrong, and immediately connected this phenomenon to my disorder. It preys on my empty thoughts, a little voice that for some reason sounds like Bill Murray, continuously reminding “You can’t even eat? Or normally breathe? What’s wrong with you?” (No offense to Bill Murray, of course, I’m a huge Groundhog Day fan.) 

So, if I can’t complete these most basic human instincts, am I enough? That’s not all I think about, though, when being enough crosses my mind. I think of how no boy I’ve loved has stayed in my life longer than three months. If I can’t be enough for the people in my life, am I worth anything at all? This concept of being enough consumes my every waking moment. There have been the very rare occasions, nights where too many of my closest friends cram into a jeep with no roof, and I stand on the seat doing a poor imitation of Leonardo DiCaprio’s classic pose, and everyone’s laughing too hard, that I forget for a moment that I don’t believe I’m enough. In that moment, I am enough for the laughter I’ve created, I am enough for the music I keep messing up the lyrics to, I am enough for the moon that you can see when it peeks out between the trees. We get out of the car and don’t want to part. And when I feel like I’m the only person existing when I get back to my room after a long day of not breathing, I remember my other anxiety-ridden friend hugging me saying that night was the “perfect goodbye” for me before I left for college.  Little did I know that a week later from that night, I would begin to realize more about my anxiety because of a boy.

I hate when things happen because of boys. Not that there’s anything wrong with boys, but I want to know myself because of something internal. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my anxiety, sure it was confusing, but I know myself well. Alas, I arrived at college and met my plot twist. He’s a foot taller than me, grows Bonsai trees, and has severe ADHD. I understand how it feels to have a disorder, but I had never been in love with someone who has one. Unfortunately, his made him interrupt me, forget to kiss me goodbye, say the exact wrong things, and struggle to communicate. All the things that make my anxiety unfold from the ball I tightly pack it in and expand like a gas to fill its container. I had to repeatedly remind myself that it was not him, it was not me, it was the chemical imbalance he tries to exhaustingly keep together. It’s like the universe made both of us and said “Everything will go against their togetherness.” And we said screw it. But that fight against the universe hit me in the face and fought me saying “no, it’s not anything other than you just not being enough.” The mountain of not being enough has always been my steepest climb, so he climbed it for me. At midnight on a Friday that was hotter than it should have been in September, he ended things between us. It was not because I was not enough for him, it was not because the love he had for me disappeared, and it was not because I had done something wrong, and I have always wondered what I’ve done wrong. It was simply because he was not ready to take on anything like the relationship we wanted. It sounds like the most basic, bullshit answer a college boy can give you, but I believe him. He was stressed, overwhelmed, and simply not ready, and he did what was best for himself. Sometimes, timing doesn’t work, or relationships don’t mix with a person even if the people in it do. That is ok. Maybe it was because of my anxiety that makes me terribly empathetic, or the hours of research I did on ADHD to try to know him better, but I understood. And even though we stood there holding on to each other while I cried for what seemed like years, because neither of us wanted to let go for the last time, we eventually did. I shut the door after he reminded me I was more than enough for him. 

I’ve only ever completely felt enough for myself once. I was driving into Colorado at three in the morning, five days after my grandpa had been accepted into heaven, because of course he was. He was my best friend so that practically makes him a saint. My nose was pressed up against the glass because there were more stars in the sky than I realized were up there, and in that moment, I was enough for the stars. They serve as a reminder to the ones exploding inside me. I try and go back to that brief glimpse of infinity every single time I feel the not enough-ness in my heart. I adventure back in my mind to that mountain I was on when I saw my stars for the first time. I felt lost, without a compass or map, but then it turned, as all things do, to wandering. I hiked back paths of my heart, long-forgotten, traveled-across plains. Through forests taller than I remembered, and under a painted, desert sky I missed the beauty of. Over mountains I never realized I climbed, to find what I lost, or why I am lost at all. I have an addiction of traveling although there is no moving involved, since it’s only the emotional and physical journeys I’ve already experienced. This is one addiction I would never medicate, though.

Medication is a scary word to use. I am not medicated, and I get a puzzled look of “why?” every time I say this. I am terrified. I believe I am a coward, I am so frightened to my core of becoming reliant upon something that is not me. I am an actress, and I empathize well with people and have no problem accessing any emotion when I need to perform it. I am terrified of losing these parts of me that I actually like. If I medicate myself, I change my brain. My brain is the part of me that understands that although there are more stars in the sky than we’ll ever know, the night sky isn’t as bright as the sun because our line of sight doesn’t end on stars. This is because there was a point in time when those stars didn’t shine, even though we do live in an infinitely expanding, static universe. While I don’t necessarily need to know this information, it forces an understanding of myself. I know there are times when the stars under my skin aren’t imploding, times when I don’t feel too much, and I can take a deep breath and focus on clearer night skies. This allows me moments where my anxiety doesn’t consume me, just like the stars don’t consume the night sky. We both have a balancing act, which makes it easier to be friends with the stars. I don’t want some outside force changing this composition of my brain, which I actually can fall in love with at moments I know it is enough. 

Now, I am learning how to be enough for myself. That’s step one. I write out all my feelings, remind myself to wash off the day, and focus on every inch of me that is exactly enough, even if Bill Murray is telling me I’m wrong. It’s not easy, and it always circles back to that need to be enough. For boys, for my family, for the people I love, but especially for myself. I want so badly to just breathe without a reminder, and not tell myself that my body, my voice, my love, is simply not enough for anyone. If I were enough, I wouldn’t have had to worry about the days my person was having a rough time communicating. I wouldn’t have to worry about the secret phobia I have of the people I love and who love me waking up and saying “Never mind.” I wouldn’t have to worry during every unfilled moment to show that I can be more. Or less if that’s what you want. But for now, I do worry, and I am afraid. The undertow of anxiety pulls me back out to the ocean of not being enough, and that’s when the hurricane hits, or I become one. Sometimes, in the eye of my hurricane, I catch glimpses of my stars above me, and they whisper to me that there is a world without any hurricanes. So eventually, and I truly believe this, I will be enough. Maybe it won’t be tonight, or even a year from now, but someday I will be satisfied with the acceptance that every imperfect, frizzy curl, every frayed thought, every small moment I forget to breathe is all perfectly ok, because it is just me. I will be enough for me. I will stop seeking imperfection, and see the beauty of being imperfectly enough.