#anyway the book i sort of remembered and had trouble finding for YEARS

[double-o-donut]

anyway turns out the book i've been thinking of for over a decade and couldn't remember what it was called i've had it on my bookshelf this whole time

[sweetprfct]

Cruel Summer

Aaron Warner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aaron Warner have been secretly seeing each other since the beginning of Spring. The problem is that your parents are part of Omega Point, the rebel group of The Reestablishment. While Aaron’s father runs The Reestablishment along with other leaders from other continent. From secret meetings to I love yous, you start questioning if all of this is worth taking the risk.

Author's Note: Hello, here's my first Aaron series. First off, I ctrl+delete Juliette in this AU. Second, Aaron is in his late twenties in this story and so is the reader. I try to make everything as accurate as possible but it has been a while since I read the first three books for the series, so I might forget certain details. Anyway, comments are welcome! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, mention of violence, smut, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.8K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was raining.

It was always raining these days. If not, the sky was dark and gloomy. You didn’t know how long since the last time you saw the sun. Since The Reestablishment had taken over and wars had broken out all around the world, the sky was just blanketed by dark gray skies. You remembered your childhood and how the world was back then. Sunny skies, pink sunsets, children on the playground. You would hear the ice cream truck around the neighborhood during summer. You remember spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. 

Autumn and Winter. 

Now, it was just cold, gloomy and rainy most days. The weather was pretty much unpredictable. Broken buildings, fires breaking out, civilians lost around the streets outside or getting shot if they didn’t follow The Reestablishment’s rules. You have seen the brutal things the government had done to those civilians, and it hurts to see them suffer and it hurts even more knowing you couldn’t do anything about it. Your parents had warned you to stay away from trouble. To always stay alert because you never know what The Reestablishment would do next.

Your parents were part of a secret organization called Omega Point. They ran it along with their friend Castle. The group took in people who have some sort of supernatural abilities and aimed to destroy The Reestablishment. You, however, didn’t have any special abilities. You were only part of the group because of your parents. 

Castle was always alert, and he seemed to know more than what he led on. You couldn’t help but wonder if your parents also knew more than what they usually would tell you. You were always good at spying and sneaking out. That was your talent and most of the time, you were always successful in your own little personal agendas. Your parents knew that too. So, you figured they wouldn’t lie to you, knowing that you would eventually find out anyway. 

There was that one time that your parents had caught you sneaking out of the Omega Point base back in the Spring. They were furious over it that you were stuck for two weeks in your room because they didn’t want you going anywhere. You didn’t care though because you had an interesting time that night. You had sneaked out and pretended that you were part of the little gathering of The Reestablishment’s leaders. You were always so curious as to what they did. Curious how great their life must be in that part of Sector 45. 

And you were right. 

Because you saw everything. They had everything they wanted as if the world didn’t burn down and everyone was living in this hell. Most civilians could barely find any food to feed themselves and here they were living like Kings and Queens. 

“Are you lost?” 

His voice made you jump. You were at the back of the building, looking through the window and trying to see what was happening inside. You never had anyone caught you before. Ever. Not even your parents when you were spying or sneaking out and here he was, standing over you. As you looked over your shoulder, you saw a man with blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was staring at you with some sort of curiosity. Some trespasser, he probably thought. You were, but that didn’t matter because you were supposed to act like you were part of this gathering. He was in uniform and on his uniform it said, “Sector 45 CCR, A. Warner.” Your eyes shifted at the name, and you knew then that you had to make up some excuse to convince him that you belong in this little gathering. 

“Um… no.” You shook your head, straightening your clothes. “Just trying to get some air.” 

His emerald eyes studied you as you stood there with your back straight, acting like there was confidence radiating out of you. However, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. It was running a million miles per hour, and you were terrified that he would be able to hear it. He furrowed his brows and looked over his shoulder to see the dark clouds blanketing the city. You knew he was wondering what you meant by that because it had been a while since the world had an actual fresh air. It made you even terrified that he probably realized that you weren’t part of this little party. 

“Hm…” His eyes studied you from top to bottom. “Which continent are you from? I’ve never seen you before.”

Your heart was gone. You couldn’t feel it anymore as you tried to make up some excuse but thankfully, he was called by another soldier from a distance. You immediately hid behind the post, so you wouldn’t be seen and just like that, he walked away. A sigh of relief washed over you as you watched him enter the building with the soldier. 

Sneaking inside the building, you made sure everyone else was busy and made your way up the stairs. You didn’t bother taking the elevator since you might bump into some more people and then, you were met with a long hallway, bright fluorescent lights illuminating it.

It made you feel like you were in a hospital.

Walking down the hall, you found the Supreme Commander’s office. The name Anderson was on the door and quietly, you turned the knob and peered your head behind the door. It was empty and dark. You looked around the office and went around the desk to find some sort of evidence to prove that The Reestablishment was doing something wrong. 

Something that could help Omega Point take down The Reestablishment once and for all.

Letting out a sigh, you pulled one of the drawers, but it was locked. All of them needed a key. Looking through all the files on his desk, you couldn’t find anything interesting nor the key to open up one of the drawers. You figured maybe he kept it safe with him. Hearing footsteps coming from down the hall, you walked out of the office and rapidly walked back to the fire escape staircase only to be met with the same man again.

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “What are you doing here?”

You sighed, “Can’t find the bathroom. Where is it?”

He turned his head to the side and gave you a side eye before walking back down the stairs and led you down onto another long hallway. 

“Thanks.” You murmured and entered the restroom. 

You waited a few minutes until you saw the shadow of his footsteps disappear. Unlocking the door, you looked both ways before finding the exit and out the back of the building again. You quietly hid from the soldiers that were on the lookout until you felt a hand cover your mouth, and you were pulled into a dark alley. 

Your fight and flight mode immediately turned on as you struggled in the person’s grip. You tried to reach for your knife in your back pocket, but the person was pulling you in their arms too quickly. Using your elbow, you jabbed the person right on their stomach as they groaned softly from the pain. You told your legs to start running as fast as you could, but you felt their hand grab your wrist and immediately, all you felt was the stinging pain on your back by the brick wall.

The light from the post illuminated his face, and you saw that it was the same man you met earlier. He pinned you against the wall, his hand clamped over your mouth, and his green eyes were wide. He quietly held up his index finger in front of his lips to let you know to be quiet as you both heard footsteps from a soldier from a distance.

He pulled you away from the light and hid you from the dark corner until the soldier had disappeared.

“Who are you?!” You whispered, anger in your voice. “Why do you keep following me?!”

An amused soft laugh escaped from him as his face leaned closer to yours. 

“I should be asking you that, love.” He whispered. “Who are you, and why are you sneaking around the building?”

You swallowed every emotion that was washing over you right now. Your heart was beating a thousand miles as you stared into his eyes. They were icy pale green. His features were sharp, and he looked sort of beautiful. Almost unreal.

“You could answer me or I could get one of the soldiers to throw you out or worse.” He added, his voice was cold and stern, his spare hand finding his gun on his holster. 

Your eyes followed where his hand was, and you kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t risk putting your parents and all your friends in danger because of one mistake that you made. Maybe you should have listened to your parents. Maybe you should have stayed back in the base and all of this wouldn’t have happened. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes studied you and his brows furrowed.

“I’m a nobody.” You finally replied, your voice stuttering. “J..Just lost.”

His eyes kept studying you until he took a step back and finally let go of you. You exhaled a sharp breath and looked at him for a moment. He looked distressed. He looked lonely. You didn’t really understand how you knew that, but you could see it in his eyes. 

“Go before someone sees you.” He said, his head hung low. 

You were ready to run because you should be, right? So, how come your legs weren’t moving? How come you couldn’t bear to leave him like that? 

“Y… You’re just gonna let me go?” You asked. 

He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours. It made your heart beat faster again as he said, “Be glad I’m irritated tonight. I don’t have the energy to take you into a prison cell or kill you and make a whole scene.”

Taking a few steps back, you looked over your shoulder one more time before running off. That was when you were met with your parents when you arrived back at the base. They were furious. Asking you a bunch of different questions as to where you were and how dare you leave the base without letting anyone know. Your best friend, Kenji, was standing behind them. A disappointed look in his eyes as they sent you to your room and told you that you were going to be watched for the next two weeks to make sure you weren’t going to make any more reckless decisions.

Then, after two weeks passed, you found yourself outside the Omega Point base. You were walking near the water, your thoughts pinwheeling and wondering how long were you all going to hide? You kept asking if this was how the world was going to be until you died. Kept wondering how much more damage The Reestablishment would do until everything would fall apart even more. Wondering what else they did underneath all those metal tall buildings. What decisions and plans were they planning? 

Then, you felt that familiar touch grab you by the wrist. You let out a small shriek as you were pulled in the nearby forest—at least what was left of it—

“You.” Your eyes widened. 

You looked around for soldiers but there was no sign of them. You had told Kenji what happened that night. You described the soldier as someone who looked unreal, beautiful and part of you thought you were dreaming that night. 

“I don’t know, maybe there’s something in the air at their base.” You lightly teased. 

“You said his uniform said CCR A. Warner?” Kenji’s eyes widened. 

“Yes, why?”

You saw the worry that washed over Kenji’s face as he said, “That’s Anderson’s son. Warner is the most brutal and heartless Chief Commander in Sector 45. Jesus Christ, Princess!” 

Anderson’s son? You knew about him, but you hadn't realized it was him, especially with the fact that his name was Warner, not Anderson.

“Brutal and heartless?” You tilted your head. “Then… Then why’d he let me go that easily?”

“I don’t know but there’s something wrong about it. You need to be more careful! You don't know his agenda, and you might end up dead next time.”

Warner. 

Kenji’s words echoed in your head as you shook your wrist from his grip. You didn’t know what it was but there was something in his eyes today. Some concern he was feeling. If he was so heartless like Kenji said then why could you see the human inside him? 

The son of the Supreme Commander of Sector 45. Warner was the Chief Commander and Regent. The man that the soldiers were afraid of because of how cold he was. He could kill someone in a heartbeat and not have an emotion over it. How much of a robot he was as Kenji told you. You still couldn’t understand why he let you go unharmed. How he didn’t kill you for spying. You didn’t understand one bit of it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice was low and ice cold. “Are you here to kill me? If so, just do it now—”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes stared at the ground. “I know who you are.” 

He took your hand and dragged you further in the forest until you both saw the lake. He dropped your hand and pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in front of you. He whispered your name, and you wondered how he knew that. Although, knowing that he was the son of the Supreme Commander, you realized they probably kept files of everyone. 

“You’re part of Omega Point.” He stated, his tracks stopped and he stood in front of you. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. If he knew about you, then he probably would have known all the members of Omega Point. Kenji, Castle, you… your parents. 

Maybe you knew nothing of this world after all. Knew nothing about what The Reestablishment did nor what Castle and your parents knew about the new world. 

“H…How did you—” You shook your head.

“Doesn’t matter.” He took a step closer. “My father…” He took a deep breath. “I think…he’s killing… children. Killing certain people.”

You didn’t say a word. That revelation was a shock to you, but you knew there was something going on. You knew it was more than just taking over the world. More than just building up a new world, new rules and destroying every bit of history from the past. 

“That was why you were there, weren’t you?” Warner asked, his voice was stern. “You knew about this?”

“No.” You said. “I… I knew there’s something more going on. I was there to find evidence, but I wasn’t able to.”

“Well, I did.” Warner replied, his head shaking. “I think…”

“I…I’m sorry.” That was all you could manage.

You didn’t exactly understand why he was here. Why was he telling you all of this? What did he want from you? Why did he risk coming out here to talk to you? 

“I’m not.” He said. “I knew my father was vile… A psychopath.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to help take him down.” His green eyes went dark as it met yours. “I want to kill him.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as he took another step forward towards you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Warner looked up and stared at something behind you. 

“Meet me in that cabin at night.” He murmured. “I will look for more information and evidence that could help.”

You followed his eyes and saw the cabin just not too far. It was behind the tall redwood trees. This forest was the only thing left of this broken world, and you didn’t even realize there was a cabin right there. It was too hidden. 

“But—” 

But before you could say anything Warner had already left. You were left in the middle of the woods with your thoughts again. In the beginning, you were terrified to actually go through and believe what Warner said. You didn’t know him and he was part of The Reestablishment. How would you know that you could trust him? How do you know that he wasn’t playing a double agent? 

When you had sneaked out that night to the cabin, you brought yourself a few weapons in your pocket just in case you needed them. You couldn't bear to let Kenji know what you were doing. At least until you were sure about all of this.

Looking around the forest, you saw no sign of other soldiers, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they were just hiding. Entering the cabin quietly, you found Warner sitting by the fireplace. He had documents laid out all over the coffee table and wooden floors. You closed the door behind you and studied the image in front of you. For a moment, you slowly started to believe what he told you. He did brought the evidence. He brought every document he could find in his father’s office. 

“What are these?” You asked, settling yourself on the floor next to him.

You couldn’t help but notice that he was in his suit. Did this man ever wore anything else other than his uniform and suits? Your eyes then studied his blond hair, his long golden lashes and his eyes that were focused on the papers in front of him.

“Records of the children that mysteriously disappeared.” He said, gazing up at you. “But there was no evidence why they disappeared.” 

He gazed up at you, green eyes staring into yours. It was almost enchanting that you had to look away and focus your attention on the papers in front of you. Both of you spent the night looking through the documents, but you both couldn’t seem to find anything. They were all just records saying that they either died from an accident or they disappeared out of nowhere. No hard evidence at all.

Then, another night came and another and another. Kenji started noticing your late night routine until you finally told him the truth.

“Are you insane?!” He whisper-yelled in the middle of the hall. “This is not a good idea, Princess.”

“Just please trust me?” You pleaded. “Just please cover for me if my parents or Castle look for me.”

“Nuh uh!” Kenji shook his head. “I’m not going to agree with your little suicidal plan with Warner.”

“Kenji, he could be the key to finding all these records. I’ve seen it. Please just give us more time.”

Kenji stared at you for a moment before exhaling a sharp breath and said, “I hope you realized who you are talking to every night in that secluded cabin.”

A smile creeped up on your face as you pulled your best friend into a hug and thanked him. Then, a week of meeting with Warner had become two weeks then one month. Then, two months until Spring ended and Summer finally came. Not that it mattered since the weather stayed the same. It was rainy, dark and gloomy. 

The more you spent with Warner, the more you saw a different side of him. His walls were slowly unraveling in front of you, but it wasn’t to the point where you knew his personal secrets. His personal life. You have never seen him smile, he was always so serious. But he had told you about his father and how his mother died. That was the closest personal thing you have known about him.

It was awful.

His father tortured her and gave her drugs until she turned into almost like a wild animal. Warner mentioned how his mother’s ability was that no one could touch her, but her power was so strong that she could feel the pain of her own skin and suffered until she died from it. You were slowly understanding why he hated his father and why he was rebelling against him.

At least you thought you understood all of it until that one night… 

“Here.” He handed you a box.. 

“What is this?” You furrowed your brows and opened up the box.

Inside, there was wrapping paper and once you had ripped it open, you found a green dress, almost the same color as his eyes. You held up the dress in front of you and then stared at him, confused.

“What is this for?” You asked.

“You don’t like it?” He grabbed the dress from your hands. “I’ll change it. I don’t know your favorite color.”

He couldn’t even look at you. He was staring at the dress in his hands and then, you realized something. The dress was the most obvious one out of all the things he brought every time you met up with him. It was food at the beginning. Then, a nice blanket. Told you that it gets cold at night in the cabin, and it annoyed him to see you shivering all night. Then, you found some fancy soaps in the bathroom, which you never understood because you never took a shower in the cabin. Then, the cabin was slowly being decorated nicely. You thought maybe he was trying to make it a lot cozier. 

But no.

He was doing all of this for you. He was giving you gifts, but why? 

“No,” you took the dress back from his hands. “I like it. Thanks.”

You studied the dress in your hands for a moment then, you felt his presence in front of you. Suddenly, you felt the air between the two of you shift. His fingers found a strand of hair from your face as he tucked it behind your ear. You gazed up at him through your lashes and found his face inches from yours.

You couldn’t breathe. 

His fingers brushed gently against your cheek, and a small gasp escaped your lips. He never touched you. He was always distant even when he was sitting next to you. It was almost like there was a wall between the two of you but the moment you felt his touch, all of a sudden, you saw that wall crack. 

“You’d look beautiful in that dress.” He whispered.

The air in your lungs suddenly gave out. The wall he had put up between the two of you had split open. 

“Warner, I… I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your words stuttered, you could barely find your voice.

His hands then cupped your face as his green eyes were staring deep into yours. His eyes sparkled, and you were a glass almost breaking into pieces. His touch was the only thing that was keeping you glued together for a moment. He held your face like you were something so delicate that he was afraid he'd break you if he wasn’t careful.

“Do you know how much it’s killing me that I can’t hold you?” He murmured. “How much it’s killing me that I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day?”

“Y…You can’t stop thinking about me?” 

His thumb traced the outline of your lips before his nose grazed against yours. You held your breath as you closed your eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off your body and all of a sudden, you couldn’t think straight anymore. 

“I can’t stop thinking about your eyes, these lips…” his thumb softly touched your lips, almost like a feather-like touch. “...your voice—god, your voice.”

His hand slipped at the back of your head before he said, “I don’t want to scare you away.”

Your breath hitched, “You’re not.”

His sharp features were right in front of you, and his eyes studied each detail of you. You forgot what it was like to breathe. Time has stopped. Time froze the moment he pressed his lips against yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He tasted so sweet. He tasted like peppermint. He kissed you hungrily and desperately like he has been waiting for this for a long time. He pulled you close and pressed your body against his. Your hands slid on his chest, and you could feel his chest heaving as he let his lips trailed down your jawline and down your neck.

You were gone.

You didn’t know how you were still alive because you had stopped breathing a long time ago. His kisses sent shivers down your body. It was something you never experienced before. Never felt before. It was so soft and at the same time, it was something so special. A luxury that you never tasted before. 

Warner scooped you up in his arms and carried you towards the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed. For a moment, he pulled away from the kiss. Both of you were breathless, and his fingers were caressing your face softly.

“I…I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” He whispered. 

You gazed up at him, breathless. “Then, kiss me again.” You murmured before pulling him close to you again. 

His lips kissed down your neck and down to your collarbone as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t here anymore. His lips trailed down to your chest, and his hand gripped your hips as you ran your fingers through his hair. A jar of butterflies exploded in your stomach and fluttered all over your body. 

“Warner.” You whispered.

“Yes, love?” He gazed up at you. 

“Are… Are you sure about this?” 

Your heart was drumming hard in your chest and you swore, he could hear it. There was nothing more you wanted than this, but you knew how complicated the situation was. You didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and find him gone. You didn’t want to wake up and find out that he regretted it. Most of all, you wanted to trust him. Believe him that this was real. 

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this, love.” He said. “You’re consuming every part of my soul, and I can’t explain why.”

You slid your hand behind his head and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. Your heart was pounding hard, and you felt the world stopped around you. 

It was just you and him. 

You fumbled through the buttons of his shirt and immediately slid it over his broad shoulders. Pulling away from the kiss, you gazed down at his body, your fingers ran down his bare skin and you heard a breathless gasp escape his lips. Your fingers ran through the hills and curves of his muscles on his stomach. Then, you saw his tattoo that sits right on the bottom of his torso. Just below his hip bone. 

Hell is empty and all the devils are here. 

Your fingers grazed over the words, and you saw Warner’s chest went up and down as you continued to touch him.

“So… beautiful.” You whispered. 

However, you didn’t know what happened or what you said to him because you saw something shifted inside him. His eyes had gone dimmed and he immediately pulled away from you. You furrowed your brows and questions started running in your mind.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I…” He shook his head. 

You were confused. You watched as he repeatedly shook his head. He looked embarrassed. He got up from the bed and so did you. He kept taking a step back, and he looked jittery. 

You never saw him like this before.

“Warner…” You took a step forward.

You wanted to reach for him, but he was pulling away from you, and you didn’t understand why. You thought this was what he wanted. 

“I’m not…” His voice stuttered. 

Then, when he bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor, a gasp escaped your lips. Immediately, you walked towards him. You hesitated to touch him, but you saw it. You saw all of it. 

Scars.

His back was covered with them. Right on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, there was also a tattoo that said:

IGNITE.

“W—What happened?” You asked, your fingers finally grazing over the scarred skin of his back. 

He winced from your touch as he turned around to face you. His face looked like he was in pain as he stared at you for a moment. 

“It’s repulsive, I know.” He said, sliding his shirt back in his body. “They’re birthday gifts from my father from when I was five until I was eighteen.”

You couldn’t help but clamped over a hand on your mouth, another gasp escaping from you. You felt the tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. Warner couldn’t even look at you. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall. 

“I’m not beautiful, love.” He murmured. “I’m repulsive, and I’ve killed people before. Tortured them…” 

You were frozen for a moment. Trying to comprehend everything that you just learned. You knew his father was vile and a psychopath but the thought of Aaron having to go through that kind of abuse? The thought of him being trained by his father to kill people? Anger washed over you. Turning to face him, you walked across the room and cupped his face in your hands, letting his green eyes find yours.

“You’re not repulsive, and I’m not redacting my statement.” You said sternly. 

There wasn’t anything else that you needed to say to convince him to believe you because he was now cupping your face in his hands, his emerald eyes sparkling. You could hear your heart drumming in your ears as he pulled you in for another kiss. A hungry and desperate one but at the same time, it was all so soft like cotton candy. You slid his shirt away from his shoulders again as he carried you to the bed and towered over you. He was breathless as he kissed down your body, and you swore the room started to spin.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven was like. If this was it. If you finally died and went to heaven. If you did, it was peaceful. Quiet. The only one that was looking at you was this man with piercing green eyes and leaving you soft feathered kisses all over your body like you were something new. Like he had never had something like this in his life, and he was afraid that he'd lose it if he didn’t hold on to it tightly. 

Your thoughts were gone as soon as you felt him unzipping your pants. The rest of your clothes were on the floor, and you were lying naked in front of him. You felt the blood rushed to your face as he studied you, a small smile lingering on his lips.

“So enchanting.” He whispered before pressing his face on your neck and leaving soft kisses on your skin. 

“I think…” He breathed heavily. “...my heart has exploded a million times.”

You smiled softly and cupped his face, looking right at him. You have never known this kind of look before. You have never seen anyone look at you like this before. Repeating the words that Warner just told you, you couldn’t help but think about how your heart also exploded a million times because this…

This was everything. 

Being with him was like a safe bubble that you wished you never wanted to leave. If you were asked, you would stay in this cabin forever. You didn’t care about anything else. You just wanted to be with him everyday and that was how it went for the next few weeks. You sneaked out of the base and saw Warner almost every night. It was an escape from this cruel world. A happiness you never knew existed but time was never enough. 

It was always never enough.

You always found yourself going back to the base in the early mornings, hoping you wouldn’t be caught by anyone. It was the perfect time since everyone would be asleep and the streets were empty during those hours. 

“You’re late.” 

You stopped in your tracks right before entering your room and turned around to find Kenji standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Sometimes you hated the fact that his power was invisibility because this man always appeared out of nowhere.

“Only five minutes late.” You corrected him. 

“I don’t like this, Princess.” Kenji said.

You looked around to make sure no one was around before pulling Kenji inside your room and let out a sigh. 

“Please, Kenji.” You murmured. “I do appreciate you covering for me every night but please understand that this is important to me.”

“Important?” Kenji raised his brow. “You’re meeting up with Warner. Anderson’s son. You know, the one who made this whole shit show of a world in the first place? The one we’re trying to take down?”

“I know, I know.” You raised a hand up to stop him. “But he isn’t like that. He understands what we do, and he wants to help.”

Kenji let out a scoff. “How sure are you that he can be trusted?”

“Because I know.” Your eyes were pleading for him to understand. 

“How sure are you that he isn’t using you just to get information about us too?” 

“Because he also hates his father and besides, we haven’t talked about that in a while.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you remembered Warner for a moment. 

Kenji was suddenly all scrunched up in disgust as he shook his head. “Ew. That’s gross. Don’t ever say that again to me.” 

“Just please, trust me? We will figure this all out soon. He’s trying.” 

Kenji let out a sigh and nodded his head. “Just be careful out there. It’s dangerous and honestly, I don’t like the fact that you are running around late at night out there.”

“Please,” You said, holding back from rolling your eyes. “I can handle myself, Kenji.”

“I know you can but still.” 

You laughed softly. You were grateful for Kenji and besides the fact that you knew he wasn’t really agreeing with this whole thing, you were still glad that he always understood you and never doubted you. 

“Whatever you say, Princess.” Kenji said before walking out the door. 

Flopping yourself on the bed, you exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t help but wonder if Kenji was right. Warner was Anderson’s son and even if he gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the base, you were terrified that one day his father might find out. Then, what was going to happen? It would risk everything. 

Everyone. 

***********

Taglist:

@gracie-221 @his-littlefox @hannahmarie71 @ecliphttlunar @indythefandomhoarder @reminiscentreader @hrtsbecca @soulaires @shattermelyhfmlblog @wildesqdreams @pookiebearnancy @ant-thebooknerd @boliviajane

[paradoxcase]

John 1:20

THE TOWER HAS BEEN REACTIVAT

No surprises there.

I mean, isn't this basically the same conclusion they already came to like several John chapters ago, when Augustine was questioning whether the FTL even existed? (Although, apparently actual FTL really happens at the end of this chapter, I guess it actually was real? Why does it make no appearance in the rest of these books? If this other FTL technology exists, why did BOE work so hard to get a ship with a stele and a necromancer to operate it?) Anyway, this doesn't feel like a new or exciting conclusion to come to

I don't feel like this story has done a good job of explaining why this has to be done, or even why John and co. think it has to be done. Is it because they're leaving in the ships that were intended for the cryo project? I'm sure they can build more of those, it's just money and engineering, and even if all the trillionaires leave, there's still a lot of governments with a lot of money out there who would probably be willing to fund the cryo project when John turns out to be right about trillionaires after they've left and there's no one left to defend them and talk about the secret lives of cows. I mean, as long as he doesn't start doing stupid and crazy shit and causing a nuclear holocaust. Who cares if the trillionaires leave? I feel like the point of these chapters is to explain why John did what he did, but I don't think this explanation makes a lot of sense. This is not moving me as a supervillain origin story

So, according to the UN, world population will not reach ten billion until 2058. I calculated earlier that John can't be born later than 1998 and still be old enough to realistically attend the Parachute music festival, so are we meant to believe that John is 60 years old here?

If I had a nickel for every time someone had their arm cut off and then regrown in this story, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

Also, thanks for not making this one a sex scene, I think I've already heard more than I wanted to about John's sex life

Presumably this is needed for something resurrection-related, I guess it's so that when the suitcase nuke explodes he can grow a whole new G1deon again from the arm, like a starfish. So presumably John would have had no trouble growing Ianthe a new arm that worked as her arm, if she had asked him. I went back to see where Ianthe's first problematic arm had come from, but all I can find is that she denies that either John or Mercy was responsible for it. Did she make it herself? I can't remember

Ok, but six paragraphs earlier Pyrrha is being mad that G1deon won't arm the nuke if she comes with him. Did Pyrrha know, or not?

I mean, I hate to say it, but you were right there with all of the others when John was like, we have to stop the trillionaires from escaping, that's the absolute more important thing to be doing right now, and exactly zero of you said, no John, that's not actually the most important thing to be doing right now

Why did Cristabel decide that right now was the best time for John to figure out how souls work? There's this whole side narrative about John working out how souls work, but it doesn't really feel tied to the rest of the story about the trillionaires and the cryo project

I think I see. As established at the beginning of Harrow the Ninth, a living planet's soul is like the collective thalergy of everything that lives on the planet, so I guess it's kind of a gestalt oversoul, where every individual living soul on the planet is part of it? So when a planet is dead, then by definition everything else on it is also dead, since otherwise there would still be a living planet soul of some sort. The fact that John wasn't able to control individual human souls here while Alecto was still alive sort of implies that resurrection, and maybe most kinds of soul magic, are actually impossible on a living planet, if even John can't distinguish between human souls and the planet soul in that context. I guess that means that that kind of stuff would only be possible on an undead planet in the Nine Houses

No, I think that's totally fair, actually

I feel like this is important. Everyone else was killed by someone else. Like, John was 100% responsible for all of this mess, but he didn't actually pull the trigger to kill anyone else, and until this point he still has some plausible deniability, like he was just trying to stop the trillionaires, and he never intended to set off any nukes or kill anyone, he was just stressed and being a bit dumb. But he specifically kills G1deon, who is clearly his most loyal supporter. Like, I think he probably could have talked to G1deon over the phone at this point and been like, hey new plan, we're actually going to let the nuke go off and kill a million people so I can gain godlike power, don't worry I'm gonna figure out how to bring you back to life again using your arm, and I honestly think there's a solid chance that G1deon would have been like, sure thing boss, see you when it's all over. Then it would have been like, consensual, I guess? But he doesn't even do that. He just kills him. Obviously John has just killed people before at this point, and he would also be just killing another million people, but I think it's sort of different for John to just kill a bunch of cops or the population of Melbourne that he doesn't know at all, versus to just kill someone like G1deon, who he's known all his life and is somehow impossibly loyal to him

I'm not feeling this metaphor

Well, that's extremely biblical

So this means that the only reason Alecto survived this in a way that the other cavaliers didn't was because John couldn't entirely consume her soul, or thought he couldn't. And I guess he just decided it was too complicated to figure out how to do this with a human soul, and a necromancer who doesn't have all that power at hand at that moment?

So this is what Hollywood Hair Barbie looks like, apparently:

Maybe it's just the angle of the photo, but she doesn't seem to have quite as freakish proportions as the barbies I grew up with, which is good. For a moment I was imagining 8-foot-tall Alecto who is 75% legs and it was terrifying

What is the "shaman" a reference to, here?

So ultimately, John's powers came from Alecto originally, when she was still alive as the soul of Earth - it's implied throughout the story that necromancy comes from exposure to thanergy, but this obviously wasn't the case for John's specific flavor of necromancy, but he is definitely making use of thanergy to do what he does. So why did Alecto have the ability to give someone necromancy powers, that make use of death energy, rather than say, something the primarily makes use of life energy/thalergy which would probably be more useful and not incentivize killing ten billion people to gain more power?

[adibkhorram]

How did you know you wanted to become an author? Coming from someone who enjoys creative writing, but not literary analysis, any tips/advice for someone who thinks they might like to become an author? Out of curiosity, feel free to ignore.

So! I didn't know I wanted to be come an author. I didn't study creative writing. I went to university and got my Bachelor's degree in Theatre Design & Technology with an emphasis in Lighting Design.

I sort of became an author by...accident? After getting my degree in theatre I was having trouble finding jobs (for ever play there might be twenty actors but only one lighting designer), plus I was young and the Lord of the Rings films had just come out and I thought "Maybe I should make movies instead of theater..." So then I did a year of film school. And turns out that wasn't really for me either, but I did like my screenwriting class!

So even after moving back home during the Great Recession I kept writing screenplays, thinking one day I could get one produced. But turns out it's way easier if you either know people or are independently wealthy, so none of my screenplays went anywhere. But then I thought: what if I tried turning a screenplay into a book? Maybe you don't have to know people to write books!

So I wrote a book...I wrote a lot of books. Each book my craft grew. Eventually I wrote one I thought might be good enough to publish. Turns out it wasn't! But I kept writing anyway. At that point I had a stable job that had a lot of inactive desk time, so I did a lot of writing then, or at night, or in the morning. I think it had become something of a challenge for me to see if I could do it? So I eventually wrote Darius and that one DID get published. And I kept my dayjob! I wasn't sure I could make this thing work long term. But then the pandemic happened and it turns out writing was the MORE stable career in the mild apocalypse.

All of which to say: I had multiple careers before being an author. And only now, five years in, am I feeling mostly confident that this is my new path. So give yourself the grace to try lots of things, and know that there is ALWAYS time to forge a new path for yourself.

Now, for advice:

#1: Read! If you're serious about publishing books, read books that are being published right now. Read to grow your craft. Read to know what's in the market. Read to know what you like and what you don't like. Read to be in conversation with the people you hope will be your peers.

#2: Write. Figure out what a writing "routine" looks like for you. Daily writing? Intermittent bursts of hyperfocused drafting? Weekends at a coffee shop? We all have different artistic needs. Figure out yours. Try lots of things and see what sticks.

#3: Live. Life is the best source of things to write about! Go to museums. Walk through parks. Look at the night sky. Listen to music. Fall in love and out of love. Go to therapy. (Therapy is GREAT for finding new things to write about lol.)

#4: Research. This is for if you decide you want to pursue publishing professionally. Learn about the differences between traditional and independent (ie self) publishing. Learn about agents and publishers and how the business works. Arm yourself with knowledge. Remember, even if it's a dream, it's ALSO a business—and as such, there will always be people trying to exploit you for capital.

I guess that's it for now. I might add to if it I think of more things later. Thanks for the great ask! And sorry for the life story.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/17/23

this was written under some duress bc my cat refused the sacrificial animal cracker and wanted The Whole Box. no, these are mine, go eat your camel on the coffee table. i have always hated the "pet parent" stuff but mother DOES want a cocktail and some benzos, run along now

listening

peel me a grape, anita o'day's version. this popped up on a premade jazz standards spotify playlist

this is going to pop up on my spotify wrapped bc i am trying to memorize the lyrics, which include

Send out for scotch, boil me a crab Cut me a rose, make my tea with the petals Just hang around to pick up the tab Never out think me, just mink me Polar bear rug me, don't bug me New Thunderbird me, you heard me I'm getting hungry, peel me a grape

MWAH. love it. ideal.

-

reading

Dreamships by Melissa Scott. i don't like ragging on an alive, queer author, but this one did not grab me. let's talk about why!

the premise:

now, i'm not in the publishing industry. but maybe consider. if the jacket copy tells you "and this is the issue upon which the novel turns!" and then tells you the next two twists. maybe don't include that in the jacket copy. i have a bad habit of only reading the first half of jacket copy and didn't see this until i took these photos but i am retroactively annoyed on scott's behalf.

character work: i bought this bc i was very excited for a grouchy misanthropic lady pilot. reverdy jian isn't that. i still don’t know much about her from reading a third of the book. she is remarkably incurious and while this is an excellent trait if you are a freelancer or doing any sort of client work, it would have been nice to care about the protagonist of the book or feel like she has emotional or monetary stakes in taking/not taking this job.

pacing/structure: this book is like looking out over top of a layer of fog and i’m making it sound more exciting or appealing than it is. it’s very even in both pacing and emotion. the first hundred pages take places over about thirty six hours, bc there’s a rush pilot job, but it’s very laid back and relaxed. there’s no real sense of urgency or mystery, despite the author trying her hardest to set up a mystery about the almost complete lack of information about this ship. when the characters can’t find any info they just kind of shrug and move on. it’s also just a little obtuse, despite being very polished in all its tenses and word choices. i wonder if it maybe needed one more clarity pass. i had a lot of trouble figuring out who a whole extra character was bc there were too many men in one room.

where the pacing/structure/character work collide: this book reads like a travelogue, and i do not mean that as a compliment. again, we don't get much of reverdy's perspective--things simply happen to her or she sees things and just kind of absorbs them without much commentary. things happen one by one like beads on a string without really tying into a bigger picture of the city or her goals. the main premise (huge mostly underground city on a planet being stripmined) was not presented interestingly enough to make up for the lack of character work. for me. in my opinion. i'm not a writer (or at least not a serious/professional/one who puts a great deal of thought and planning into her writing)

i have a limited amount of time on this earth, i gave it a solid hundred pages, this does not earn a place on my shelf. back to the thrift store it goes. sorry ms scott i hope you're having a good day anyway

-

watching

still rewatching adventure time. s3 is full of solid bangers, i think this is the season i remember best bc it was one of the first Appointment Television things with my siblings the year we got cable. this is when they start drip-feeding you more of the stuff about the great mushroom war

i really really love when a post-post apoc setting thinks about the impact of a nuclear war on playground culture, like this hide and seek variant you see in s3e21:Marceline's Closet.

Over the mountain, the ominous cloud Coming to cover the land in a shroud Hide in a bushel, a basement, a cave But when cloud comes a-huntin No one's a save… no, safe!

how i found this: this show ran from 2010-2018, and was absolutely impossible to escape as a cultural juggernaut, especially during the peak le epic bacon style times when i was in high school. it also had a limited series in 2020-2021 and a spinoff is supposed to happen next year, which i am cautiously optimistic about.

-

playing

there will be light spoilers for the first two acts of wolfenstein the new order, a game that came out in 2014. i do not feel the need to rot13 early spoilers for an nine year old game.

despite enjoying the soundtrack for many years, i have never previously made into the castle in the first level of wolfenstein: the new order bc i always got bored and wandered off irl. i do want to get to a part (again not sure which one) where it will let me dual wield shotguns. why can't i find a second shotgun. i'm out of the asylum, they made me give the chainsaw back, and im about to murk some 1960s fascists at this checkpoint. one of these fuckers better have another shotgun.

blazkowicz is an enormous slab of unseasoned american beef. this man is SO large holy shit. i wish i cared about this big man. something about a dead female love interest? this nurse i kidnapped is going catch a bad case of the plot and be dead at the end of this level i think.

as previously mentioned this game was released in 2014 and boy does it look it, right down to the stupid macho gamer difficulty and exit screens. it's a pretty competent shooter. do wish ppl would stop shooting at me for five seconds so i can wander around and read all the propaganda and signage. why put it all up if you don't want me to look at it????

this was recently free on the epic store and the soundtrack came up on my walk today, which made me go "let me try this again". stay tuned.

-

making

made some quiche and fucked it up in a different way from last jan's quiche fuckup. still looking for hearty vegetarian soups, made some soup, which is very good but very texture. aash-e jow, a persian rice/bean/lentil/barley soup, is a soup you gotta chew. "kay isn't that a stew-" no. come to my house and eat this soup and i will show you.

other notable notes: doesn't really taste like much which could be continuing post-covid weirdness, and i think i should at minimum triple the amount of spices. fuck of a lot of prep. lot of chopping. hands hurty. called for a bunch of things i do not normally keep as pantry staples. i think it would be far easier to buy a block of frozen chopped spinach and refloof it in a saucepan like i did for the quiche, but i had some arugula/spinach mix that was about to go.

the caramelized onions really make this soup imo but i do not always have the fortitude to caramelize onions. i don't think this soup will stay an acceptable texture when frozen, so next weekend i have to make another giant batch of the red lentil soup to freeze for lunches.

you're correct i really don't want to do dishes

[chloesolace]

Book Review: "The Cruel Prince" by Holly Black

Spoiler-free

Genre: young adult, fantasy • Triggers: murder, death, suicide, graphic descriptions of corpses, bullying, child abuse • Year of Publication: 2018

Plot: ★★★

Characters: ★★

Writing Style: ★

Re-Readability: ★★★

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General Thoughts

I want to start this by saying that I really wanted to like this book. Unfortunately, I ended up hating it. The plot is incredibly interesting and the idea of the Faerie world super engaging. However, everything that I liked about this book ends exactly there. I really did like the plot and all the ideas Black had, however her writing is simply not for me. But let's get into the review, and please, remember this is purely my subjective opinion. This book is widely popular, so it has found its audience for sure. I just wasn't part of that, and that is okay. Nevertheless, I wanted to share my thoughts.

Plot

As I said above, the plot is the book's strong suit for me. Despite the fact that, keeping faerie's hate for mortals in mind, it would have made more sense to me had Madoc killed Jude and Taryn then and there in the prologue. Why does Madoc take Jude and Taryn with him to raise them? It would only make sense to kill the children that blossomed out of a union such as their parents, without giving too much away. Is it fae customs not to? Is it some sort of personal ego problem he has? Is it empathy, despite the obvious “monster”-like personality? It is never fully explained to the extent where I could say “Ah, yes! That makes sense.” (Maybe it is explained in the sequels, I can’t say).

Another thing that made no sense to me was when the spies captured Cardan. I won't get into too many details to still keep this spoiler free, but there was this one occurrence I really had trouble finding realistic. In that scene, the spies, the ones with the actual experience and training, let Cardan go to have a drink with him. Because he is oh, so charming. Keep in mind, Cardan is the only one who can seal his brother’s reign, which would be bloody and cruel (I think the book’s title refers more to his brother than Cardan. I won't say which brother though). It seems like a completely illogical plot device to show how amazing Jude is and how she knows everything better than the others. You know, the actual spies. Even if they don’t care what happens to Faerie or its king, I find it very OOC for a spy to free one of their captives, especially to have a drink with him. They should be able to resist Cardan’s "charm".

Still, even with these inconsistencies, I thought the plot was engaging and interesting. The whole setting, a human girl growing up in the faerie lands who sort of has to navigate this world where even the food could kill her any moment, sounds very intriguing. I also loved how the faerie's around her manipulated her despite the fact she was the only one able to lie.

I do, however, want to state that this is not an enemies to lovers in my opinion. The romance is merely a sub plot anyway and did not really do it for me, but Cardan e.g. kicking dirt in Jude's food is bullying, nothing more. To me, this is a bullies to lovers if anything. Still, the main plot saved the book for me, but unfortunately it was not enough for me to continue the series.

Characters

This is where the story really begins to crumble for me. I barely liked any characters. Probably the only ones who did not annoy me where Vivienne and Cardan, but only in the second half of the book.

Let’s start with Jude, since she is the main character. It might be because I am in my 20s and she is still a child (16 or 17 I believe), but Jude annoyed me so much. The only thing that made sense about her was the fact that she wanted to prove to herself and the fae that she was worthy. Which, after living in a world that tells you you are dirt is understandable.  I will get more into the writing style later, but it was so dry and emotionless that it made her sound like some robot, programmed to do only one thing: prove to the pretty fae that she’s worthy. Not to mention, it also made her sound very immature. Jude gets praised by the book community for being this super strong heroine that is super relatable and people can look up to - but I just saw none of that. Instead, I saw an insecure child trying to be included in things that are too big for her. When I mentioned this to someone they asked me if I read a lot of YA because "this is what YA heroines are like". I do, in fact, read a lot of YA and I can still say that Jude felt way younger than she was supposed to be. Comparing her to other YA heroines who are roughly the same age only strengthens this for me.

Let’s move on to Cardan. In the first half of the book, I wished someone would just punch him. When he was actually being punished later on I honestly didn’t feel bad for him. He treated Jude like shit, which, yes, I know, was the whole point but again, he did it in a very immature way. I’m thinking about the time he kicked dirt into Jude’s food or wanted her to kiss his feet. However, I later saw that this made sense for the character. He is insecure because of the way he grew up; isolated, lonely and faced with punishment. And in the second half of the book he was actually likeable as well. Cardan feels like the only character with actual depth. Where Jude had potential, Cardan had execution. However, Cardan and Jude’s immaturity made me uncomfortable as a reader sometimes. Mixed with the dry writing style, I could not help but imagine them as way younger than they were, all while they were making out and killing people or running around with a sword. 

Madoc. Oh, Madoc. How I dislike this character. Nothing about him made sense to me. He is a huge hypocrite. What exactly is his motivation? Everything was justified by him being a "monster" by nature, but that just didn’t satisfy me. First of all, "monster" is a very subjective term. No one is ever truly evil, and I would have just wished that Madoc wasn’t so one-dimensional. It made reading the entire arc that involved him hard. And if he really is a monster, why was he so nice to Jude and Taryn? Maybe I missed it somewhere, but I am really not sure why he didn’t kill the twins on the spot when he saw them (it's not a spoiler, this is literally the prologue) and only took Vivienne, his actual daughter, back to Faerie. I suppose taking the twins was meant to show he actually has depth to him, but the repetitive "he’s a monster" with absolutely no evidence for that claim ruined it for me.

This is something which Black does quite often, by the way. She makes a claim about a character but then gives barely any or no evidence at all to support this claim and the reader is simply expected to believe her.

The Writing Style

For me, a book has to have a healthy combination of dry and lyrical writing, so it doesn't reach either purple prose or sahara territory. The Cruel Prince's writing style is very dry and straight to the point. This can work to increase tension during a dramatic scene, but using it throughout the entire book does exactly the opposite. Some people will still like that, which I can respect. However, for me it was just boring to read and, to repeat myself once more, it made Jude sound very immature. Why? I can’t say for sure. But what I know is that in writing, everything has an effect on the reader. The writing style, the scenery, hell, even the metre. The writing style in this book simply had this effect on me. 

Another thing that I didn’t like was the several occasions of telling and not showing. Black mentioned three times in just a few pages that Jude and Cardan were enemies and they hate each other. We got it, okay? There is no need to repeat it a million times. Perhaps she wanted to portray it as Jude telling herself they’re enemies and that she can’t pursue him, but it really did not seem that way to me and it unfortunately annoyed me.

Re-Readability

I think this a book you can definitely re-read if you liked it. It can be fun trying to look for clues within the narration that point to the big twists in the end. I personally just cannot put myself through this book again for all the reasons mentioned above.

Conclusion

I really cannot understand the hype of this book to be honest. Yes, the premise is interesting but the rest just does not do it for me and comparing it to other YA books, it felt incredibly immature to read. I am almost saddened to say that I regret spending almost ten euros on a copy of this, but what's done is done. I do, however, love the aesthetics of the book and will always stop to like a video of the wonderful cosplayers dressing up as the characters.

[hekate1308]

Prompt: Do you even know what this means

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Destiel

It doesn’t matter what Sam says – and he even seems to have learned his lesson in that regard, since he thankfully hasn’t complained about Dean’s life choices for months now, although that might have to do with his new girlfriend Sarah – Dean loves his little antique book shop, and he has never regretted that he bought it on a whim back when he was eighteen and Mr. Bythell wanted to retire.

Yes, some clients can be a handful, and he has several opinions about Amazon that he knows to keep to himself lest they get back to them and he gets buried under the power of Jeff Bezos, but still. There are a lot of wonderful moments when he finds a rare book or can help someone who has been desperately seeking for a title or just needs a break from the stress of every day life. It might be frustrating that he can’t afford a full-time employee, but Charlie and Gilda are always happy to help out, and students like Kevin are happy to take any summer job that presents itself.

And so, he has no plans of changing things. He lives his life, he sells and buys books, there are game nights with Charlie and Gilda and Andrea and Benny and Crowley, when he can get his friend to admit he is actually having fun during those, and everything’s fine.

And then things change, although not in the way he would have assumed if he had expected them to.

Because today the door bell rings out and a new customer comes in. Now, that’s nothing new in and out of itself, but the guy is – to be perfectly frank – hot.

And he says that as someone who has had his fun, if you know what he means.

Still.

“Hey” he greets him, strolling towards him. “Can I help?”

He blinks at him, looking ever so slightly confused and rumpled and oh God, Dean is in trouble. “I just moved here” he then informs him abruptly. “I’m Castiel Novak.”

“Like the angel?” he asks, only learning later he’s the only one who’s ever reacted that way.

Castiel blinks at him again and Dean holds out his hand. “Dean Winchester.”

Two months later

“You should try and do more with the internet.”

Apart from the fact that Cas just pronounced the word as if he has never heard of wi-fi, Dean can’t help but shake his head. “We all know how that would end.”

“I don’t mean just an online-shop. I was thinking about a book subscription service – they are all the range, these days. Maybe something like a mystery box, the sort of thing people unbox on YouTube. People would subscribe and you could choose the books.”

So Cas, who lives in a house where the electricity barely works, just asked him to – “Do you even know what this means?” he asks because he can’t help it – is he really supposed to believe that someone who dresses like Columbo has any idea what the internet is?

“I do sell my honey online” Cas says, sounding almost disappointed, and he’s quick to do damage control.

“Sorry, man. It’s not a bad idea – not a bad idea at all – just – do you think there’d even be a market for it?”

“I don’t see why not” Cas shrugs. “You still sell books, don’t you, even though everyone seems to think they are going out of style, as they say” oh God he’s actually doing quoty fingers and it looks much much cuter than it has any right to “so why should it not work when you develop your own way of doing so in the Internet?”

It might just work, Dean reflects. And really, what has he got to lose? Yes, his bookshop, but he’s always on the brink of doing that anyway…

“Alright” he decides, “Any ideas?”

Cas looks at him and they are back at the staring one another thing, great.

Yet he can’t bring himself to mind too much.

Three years later

“Cas are you smuggling books about bees into the boxes again?”

“They are really interesting! Remember, we got several emails about them just last month…”

He can’t help but admit that, so he kisses his husband instead of saying anything. “Fine” he announces, drawing back, “but next month I get to pick the theme.”

“It’s going to be old-timers” Cas grumbles.

“Are you really going to tell me that I only have one topic of interest?”

Cas looks so guilty that Dean just has to kiss him again. “Hey, look, as long as the customers don’t mind, and they don’t seem to…”

This time when they separate, Cas is smiling at him and Dean – with the roof leaking again, a customer having tried to steal several books yesterday, and Crowley and his mother once more at odds – has never felt more blessed in his life.

[auspex]

1 on 1 mark session recap! As always, sorry not a lot of context is given.

Mark first finished reading a book 'on thorns and their consequences' which was basically explaining how the sabbat came to be and their PoV on things and then with an anarch commentary towards the end expressing their disagreements. but on the first last page was red runic lettering which mark could not recognize and which sucked up his vitae when he placed it on it.

He tried to do some internet research and came across an obscure forum which claims to be for learning about obscure languages but actually seems to have a lot of vampires on it posting real and fake runes, kinda like testing each other

The runes mark was looking at were on there but the mod, who basically posts in every server, says 'you wont find anything about that in this life.' the posteris like 'cmon doesn't someone have any family who could help' and the mod replies 'ask J' so that smenacing.

idk if J is Julius? it probably isnt but anyway. mark has already reported reading this book to julius and so is gonna ask him about it cause he couldn't figure it out.

the rest of the night he spends teaching G -G is doing well and did remember his vowels : ) also explained to Gs sister how he made sure the investigation would stop and ask if she needed any other help. she asked if he could get them free or at least out of their current essentially prison sooner and mark said no but they would be out in a month to a month and a half. she didn't know how long that was. so he explained how torpor and weeks and  months and years worked

she still didnt say thanks or bye to mark but there was maybe something where she was close to doing so

i love G im so glad he is doing well he learned a lot he is almost through the alphabet

ok now for the meat of the session. the next night he goes to the chantry to talk to cassidy about the books. Knocks on the door. no answer. 

He is getting a bad feeling. represented irl by the ST playing absolutely terrifying music as i search for him.

In the chantry apartments there is an often ignored ghoul at the front and so then he asked her where Lilian’s apartment was (Cassidy’s best friend.). She told him. He knocked on her door. No answer. 

Checks the cafeteria. nope. library. nope. physics department (where their circle head, Dr. White, is). Nope. He asks someone there if she had seen either of them. nope.

so i'm worried as hell

im trying to think what mark could do and im like. i cant scry on him cause i dont have anything of Cassidy’s. 

and the st gives me a Look as if 2 say u do ur forgetting

But he kinda gives it to me for free hes like, ur wearing the same coat you did when you went to the movies

Turns out mark has cassidy's ticket. so thats close enough to being his so. mark does scry on him

its not super juicy but it is super concerning. Cassidy is by lilian in what is probably the side door in his haven that mark hasn’t been in. barricading the door. with a fuckton of furniture. and also pushing against it. lilian looks terrified. cassidy looks So Done With This Shit (tm). something is banging on the door.

so with that mark goes back to the ghoul and is like. So. Uhm. Yeah i actually have permission to enter cassidys haven yes. please let me in

she looks scared - mark put her in a real bad spot. If he doesn’t actually have permission and she lets him in he could get in trouble. but he reassures her that itis fine and his decision and nothing bad will happen. 

so she says ok and goes to open the door (she is able to if she is doing so of her own consent, she functions as a key ig). As she goes to open it, Mark says uhm. they are doing experiments so when you open the door. back up. and she's like "okay?' and opens the door and immediately vine tentacle thingies burst out and she falls back on her ass and scrambles back, screaming

she gets away and mark engages in combat. its the same sort of monster, just smaller, as the one on his territory in the conservatory, that navigate by sound. it has a lion's mane around a beak in the center and vine like tentacles around it.

mark takes a LOT of damage in its first attack he had like 1 unharmed box left  but he manages to win :) 

cassidy and lilian pop out from the door and are like. mark is that you?

Cassidy’s haven is wreckt sadly. Mark's like. yeah its me. its dead. you can come out.

lilian is SO sad it's dead but she isnt mad at mark. its clear she wanted to subdue it but they had no way to do so and mark comments as such

she's like "i was sooo close " :(

cassidy looks So Done and is like. thank you for your assistance mark but how did you . get in.

mark is like. thats not really important right now, is it? cassidy says 'somewhat, but we can discuss that later'

mark says that unfortunately this made quite a lot of noise and the ghoul went screaming for help so time to get your stories straight.

theres a few other things said but then zach rolls up

If you dont know who zach is he is a newly turned tremere. dr. white's child. elevated into power due to his sire. he's a classic skater  boy. hes head of security. he figured ALL of marks shit out when he broke into a lab - he is GOOD at his job despite his casual attitude. he says 'chill' all the time.

he skates up (yes skateboard in the hall) and asks whats up. mark says 'hi zach. it's chill, i handled it.' (Mark kinda likes Zach). 

And hes like. 'whats chill? can you explain?' and marks like. looks at cassidy and lilian. 'they would know better i just came at the end' and cassidy’s like. looks at lilian as if to say to her. u did this shit u explain!

so lilian starts a story which is kind of obviously partially a lie.

she says that she was doing her research, developing off of Leanah's (which was the stuff mark uhm. stole and sabotaged for her). and she noticed this evening that some things were off. papers where she wouldn't normally leave them. but the chimera project was So Important (TM) for the chantry that she just HAD to press on. Oh Also I found this Lipstick (produces lipstick) that looks JUST like what Leeanah wears isnt that interesting! (zach has her put it in an evidence back for him). She says 'Cassidy even made a joke that maybe I should wear makeup more often." Cassidy grunts but keeps a poker face. he would obviously Never Fucking Say That and lilian is messing with him.

god i love them sm. mark also knows cassidy would never fucking make that joke

(explaining a story that may dictate ur fate as u are investigated. does not miss an opportunity to fuck w the bestie* girl!

she continues to say that she got the embryo (described as tadpole) out of the cauldron she starts growing it. and it kept well. growing.

she pauses there. zach is like. okay and? it grows and?

Cassidy steps in. 'when it got bigger than our couch we realized we had a problem.' (also hehe ‘our’ couch their friendship is everything 2 me…) 

lilians like yes. then thankfully cassidy, with some assistance from mark, killed it. and here we are :) and then zach turns to mark and is like. what do you mean how did you get here how did you know.

and marks like Oh Well You Know "I was coming here for unrelated reasons, cassidy and myself are working together you see. And I had permission to enter. And obviously I would assist him in combat. *Coughs.*

he coughs cause i rolled 1 success on the lie T_T

zach is like. you have permission?? and cassidys like uh yes. 'as needed he can enter. its easier that way' so yay that ghoul won't get in trouble LOLLL mark got retroactive permission

even if each can tell he lied like. how do u call him on that when the person who was to have given him that permission said he did.

Liliana finishes up by describing how awful it was to be sabotage. At the end of her story. she says "Im sure leeanah would be very sorry if she saw the destruction she caused and would say so' and cassidy said 'i would not accept her apology' annnddd thiswent over my head but the st explained that was lilian apologizing to cassidy and cassidy telling her to fuck offlkdsafjlkdsjf

and zachs like. aight seems chill! (Perhaps all was not chill). lemme go in your haven here to see evidence of that sabotage

and  cassidys like oh, please do let me clean up first :) and zachs like :) noo you should see my room haha its fine :) and then cassidsy like. okay fine. you do not have permission to enter my haven. which is something respected in the chantry

zachs like do u really wanna go down that route.

Cassidy appears to hesitate. Mark is FREAKINGGG out he CANNOOTTTT find those books mark had him gather. thankfully cassidy says. Yes. Yes I do.

And so zach says fine thats chill. ill see you soon- and he has one of his guys (he had a small posse with him) stay. cassidys like. well that was a mess. mark says yes. which is why you  should start cleaning it. do you want help.

The person Zach left behind enters cassidys room and was making sure the pc was ok. mark is like cassidy is that ok?? and cassidy says 'oh, hes chill.' It seems this was the little fucker that set up the pc and internet for cassidy in the first place! cassidy makes friends with fledglings :) he doesn't speak but cassidy calls him Hack. because that's what he does, ig

Anyway. Mark helps lilian gather monster body parts to the center of the room where she starts some sort of chanting incantation to get rid of it. cassidy goes into his Side Room to start cleaning. When mark is done gathering body parts he knocks and peeks into the side hallway. cassidy tells him to enter and mark starts helping him put books away

well first theres this hallway which has 2 doors. mark enters door two with cassidy.

its a beautiful study room with mostly books, but also some old clothes, including a duster (COWBOY CASSIDY REAL...) and a painting with someone in a cuirass but the face is oddly blurry

also, all the books do not have legible titles.

with sense the unseen it seems the chandelier in the room has some sort of enchantment blurring those things out

there is also a TALL ASS stack of those notebooks he writes in. Mark glances at it and looks at cassidy who pauses and says. i need to call in a favor. can you just keep packing books away for 10 mins ? and marks like Sure

and hes left alone in cassidys study. but he decides to NOT snoop and figures he wouldnt be able to read shit anwyay due to that enchantment so he does literally just put books away.

Cassidy returns and unfolds a piece of paper that he remembers Wendy using before - its like. a bag of holding.

he unfolds it and puts it under the stack of notebooks carefully . the note books fall in. then he carefully, very very very carefully, folds it up. mark comments 'got a few years in there, huh?" he replies "A good deal more than that.".

but yeah theres also furniture and stuff everywhere btw, its a mess. The pack up books. During this time mark asked like. ok we cant keep these books about resisting blood bonds in her haven. and Cassidy is like. really mark. you're gonna make me haul them from the library every time ur gonna read them, and mark is like. sorry. yeah : )

They finish and return to the mainroom. lilian is on the floor, hands splayed, miserable. done with everything. cassidy makes a point to step over her.

cassidy and mark hauled books up to lillian's haven which was much smaller. and complained about stairs. together <3 lol

When they return hack is no where to be found. cassidy looks around and comments that the should not be in the back rooms. he does open the door to the second room but he asks mark to step back so he cant see in : (anyway mark ends up finding zach with sense the unseen (he went Invisible ig) and he was rifling upstairs through lillian's things

cassidy is like 'hack ive been through enough tonight please just give it back' and hack goes to the computer and types:

";)

I have to give them something, y''no"

and cassidy is like. sigh. will this make our unlives harder in the future. and he writes

"maybe a little"

and marks says “you know what that's fair” <- has done the same shit of finding something Smaller so it proves he was Trying but actually not

cassidy comments that he is sad about his clothes getting thrown around and wrecked - 'over the decades he had collected quite a collection, some of which are hard if not impossible to replace' and mark comments 'i hope the tv is ok too'

and upon saying that cassidy actually reacts as opposed to being stone faced "Oh no you're right, the tv!" and he goes right for it

drops to his knees to prop it back up. and theres a crack through a fourth of it. he looks so sad. mark turns it on and it does still display but there is that crack

mark is like its ok we can get another and cassidy is like ' but this was my first tv :('. hes sentimental about it my fucking HEART

marks like. im sorry. i can help you pick out a new one maybe. cassidy says he'll likely take mark up on that. and mark also says maybe it could be fixed and cassidy says he will also try that

but yeah its cute that he got attached to the tv T_T (edited)

anyway zach skates right back in after the bit with hack that i described above. and says. ok in the name of the authority invested in me by blah blah blah... everyone but you, get out please! (hack being that one)

sooo the three leave. And mark is like.well. good luck with everything.

Cassidy and lilian do not look very happy but give ike a half hearted thanks

mark is lowkey like. ok u could be a bit more thankful i saved ur ass and helped u clean up but OKAy . . . .

cassidy also mentions that they can still work on their shared research in a few nights

oh also mark finally got the opportunity to ask if they had showers and they do not and mark is like. wow that sucks.

Cassidy diddnt seem to care but like. dude. imagine only having washrooms. L.

thats the session!

[strawberry-seal77]

guys want me to blabber about the cool book I read like 2 years ago. No? too bad!

SO it’s called Endling.

and ohhhh this one’s such a thing. I love it. Okay so there’s this species that can tell when a speaker is lying. It’s sort of like they can taste/smell it in the words. Also they can glide, this is important. The main character, Byx (who’s said endling, last of their species) got distracted and when they went back to find their group: oops they’re all gone.

The book starts with the definition of Endling and ough that hits hard. Byx goes into the city and does stuff. They end up getting chased because rare species (you know how it goes), and get cornered at the top of a building. But not! Because they jump out of a window and glide.

Anyways they meet a human and befriend them n stuff, and do a whole bunch of plot stuff. There’s also this scene of jumping off a cliff and gliding to save some creature that was being hunted, but I can’t remember when it happens. Eventually they get to some dock, and these creatures get a blood sample or smthn and are like “ye you’re good” so they go on. Get to a kingdom and like.. so they’re in trouble and the human makes a cover story, which the king looks to Byx to see if it’s true. And Byx lies. Byx LIES FOR THEIR FRIEND OMG..

More stuff happens idk and the end of the book Byx sees a moving island, and thinks they can see more of their species. So of course they’re SO excited, and decide to try and trust themself and run and leap and GLIDE. AND I NEVER GOT TO READ THE REST OF THE SERIES. THEY ONLY HAD ONE BOOK.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

The Summer I Turned Pretty Season 2 - Episode 1 to 3: Quotes

“- Escaping to your dreams is easier than living with your memories. It’s the being awake that’s the hard part.” (Belly - Episode 1)

“- You had Jeremiah, and it just wasn’t enough. You had to have Conrad, too. God, you are so fucking selfish.” (Steven - Episode 1)

“- No, no, no, no. Nothing is promised. You can’t promise anything. Sorry.” (Belly - Episode 1)

“- I’m sorry. I just, I know you’re trying your best. I don’t, I don’t expect anyone to understand what I’m going through right now, and I think I just have to deal with it alone.” (Belly - Episode 1)

“- Sorry, Mom. You know, Susannah died, remember? (Belly) - You don’t get to use Susannah’s death as an excuse. This whole year’s been hard for me, too. This isn’t about blame. This is about you and the choices you made. It’s about taking responsibility for yourself, even when things are hard. Life keeps going. You can’t just give up. (Laurel) - You want to talk about taking responsibility? You won’t even promote your book because you refuse to talk about Susannah. You gave up way before I did.” (Belly - Episode 1)

“- I knew I’d lose Susannah eventually. I just didn’t know I’d end up losing all of them. In my memory, the three of them will always be entwined, forever linked. There can’t be one without the others.” (Belly - Episode 1)

“- Jeremiah wants me to come because he’s afraid. I still know this boy better than I know almost anyone. So I’ll go for him.” (Belly - Episode 2)

“- Do you think we’ll be in when they find fout out we’re gone? (Conrad) - Oh, I’m not getting into any trouble. I’m telling everyone you kidnapped me.” (Belly - Episode 2)

“- What the hell happened with you guys? (Jeremiah) - He never said anything? (Belly)  - We don’t talk about you.” (Jeremiah - Episode 2)

“- Okay, not to be, like, a dick or anything, but you seem less devastated than I expected. I mean, considering you were practically swallowing his tongue last night. (Steven) - Leave it to you to make kissing sound disgusting. (Taylor) - Anyways, you could do better.” (Steven - Episode 2)

“- Belly, you were my best friend. We hooked up, and then you hooked up with my brother. And then everyone expected me to act like I was fine, and I wasn’t! (Jeremiah) - Okay, well the last thing that we wanted, that... I wanted, was to hurt you. And that’s why Conrad and I didn’t get together at the end of the summer. (Belly) - Yeah, Belly, for what? All of five minutes? That was just so you guys wouldn’t look bad. (Jeremiah) - I mean, you were seeing other people. We thought you were over it. (Belly) - Because otherwise, I was that pathetic loser that was keeping you guys apart. Sorry for what? For Conrad dumping you? Did you really not see that coming, Belly? Because I sure did. (Jeremiah) - I’m sorry because I miss you. I’ve missed you for months. That’s why I called you last night. (Belly) - Yeah, because Conrad wasn’t picking up. (Jeremiah) - Jere, you are the one I called, not him. Look, when Susannah was sick, I was so focused on Conrad and one being there for him, and I should have been there for you, too, okay? And I forgot about you. And I hate myself for that. I... Jere... I hate that I let you down. (Belly) - It happened so fast. Belly, it was really, really bad. I had Dad and Conrad sort of, but I needed you, and you just weren’t there. You left me. (Jeremiah) - I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” (Belly - Episode 2)

“- But it’s not good enough for an event in New York with a bunch of other famous writers. (Saleswoman) - I’m about as unfamous as a writer can be. (Laurel) - You can’t be unfamous if I’ve heard of you.” (Saleswoman - Episode 2)

“- Wait, wait, wait. But they’re not even talking. Why-why would Jere call her and not me? (Steven) - I don’t know. Maybe ‘cause you’re such a pain in the ass all the time. (Taylor) - Okay, I’ll let her try and clean up her mess.” (Steven - Episode 2)

“- I don’t want anybody else touching you like I do.” (Song - Episode 2)

“- Yeah. You always could read my mind. (Belly) - I’m glad it’s back anyway, our ESP. (Jeremiah) - Oh. I know that you’re not eating any pie because... mm, you’re worried about ruining your abs. (Belly) - I mean, they are a service to mankind. (Jeremiah). - Nicole! (Belly) - Gigi’s dad got caught in some insider trading thing and they had to sell their house. And Shayla’s in Europe with her parents all summer. And so the gang’s broken up. But I guess that was bound to happen at some point. You still have my number? (Nicole) - We both know I won’t call. I doesn’t feel the same as last summer.” (Belly - Episode 2)

“- Why does he still have this pull on me? I don’t want to see him. And I can’t wait for it all at the same time.” (Belly - Episode 2)

“- Ooh. That feels good. (Conrad) - Yeah, that’s ‘cause you’re cold-hearted. (Belly) - For everyone else, maybe. Not for you. (Conrad) - I want it to be with you.” (Belly - Episode 2) 

“- We went to Brown to check on you ass. You know what? I didn’t think you’d pull this shit again. But you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.” (Jeremiah - Episode 2)

“- There is nothing more beautiful than this. This particular sunset. It can match the beauty of anything in this world ten times over. No matter what’s happened, you can feel the tension of the day drifting away and out to sea. I want to memorize it all, because... you never know the last time you’ll see a place, a person.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- You’d think someone would have invented an easier system by now. (Belly) - If I wasn’t so fucking tired, I’d probably leave tonight. My mom would always fix everything up before we got here. (Jeremiah) - Yeah. The house feels different without her in it.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- The truth is, the hardest part about being here isn’t Conrad. Back home, I can almost believe Susannah isn’t really gone. But here at the beach house, she’s everywhere and nowhere.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- You know, he keeps saying he’s going to figure things out. He hasn’t figured out shit.” (Jeremiah - Episode 3)

“- Uh, Conrad may have listened to me at one point, but I don’t think he cares what I think anymore.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- I know this is hard with everything going on. (Conrad) - Please don’t shut me out. (Belly) - I feel like I just keep disappointing you. Belly, don’t leave it like this. (Conrad) - You... you are the one that made it like this.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- You know, Conrad just pushes people away when he needs them most. (Belly) - There’s only so many times I can take being pushed. It’s fucking exhausting.” (Jeremiah)

“- I mean, then, you know, why would you want to let go of such a-a magical place?” (Jeremiah)

“- What? Is Mr. I Don’t Believe in College having an existential crisis? God, does he even know what “existential” means? I bet you he thinks “SAT” stands for “stupid-ass test.” (Steven) - Can I tell you something? Not everyone measures people’s worth by what Ivy they go to.” (Taylor - Episode 3)

“- I know you worked really hard for it. It just... sometimes it feels like you think that you’re better and smarter than everyone. Uh, including me. Can you tell me what has you all in your feelings so that it can stop being weird? (Taylor) - Does Belly really think I don’t care about Susannah’s death? Am I an asshole? (Steven) - Probably, but that’s not why. Steven, everyone processes things differently, you know? I mean, my therapist says that happiness and grief can coexist. And that’s completely fine. (...) So we just drove all day to show up somewhere uninvited? (Taylor) - Look, I wanted to be there for them, all right? So I invited myself. I’m sorry. (Steven) - Also, gate crashing 101 says we can’t show up empty-handed, so keep an eye out for somewhere to stop. (Taylor) - Just don’t change my seat setting.” (Steven - Episode 3)

“- I should have known it was bad news. Bad news is the only kind that really can’t wait.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- She was helping me. (Conrad) - So you’ll accept her help but not mine? Got it. Glad to know where I fall in the ranking of ex-girlfriends. (Belly) - Grow up. (Conrad) - Go to hell. (Belly) - I should have known you’d be like this. (Conrad) - What do you mean? (Belly) - Forget it. (Conrad) - No, say it. Tell me. (Belly) - I knew it was a bad idea, starting something with you. (Conrad) - I don’t believe you. (Belly) - It was a huge mistake. (Conrad) - I hate you. (Belly) - Good (Conrad) - I never want to see you again.” (Belly - Episode 3)

“- I’ll never let myself be affected by him like that again. I can’t. If I did, it would destroy me.” (Belly  - Episode 3)

“- Guys, I had my lawyers look into any possible loopholes right after the funeral, but there’s none. Okay? The house is legally Julia’s. And believe it or not, I’m just as upset as you are about it.” (Jeremiah and Conrad’s dad - Episode 3) --> Btw this is not accurate and legally wrong!

“- You know, I just feel everyone’s slipping away, and-and the house is the last thing tying us together. (Jeremiah) - We’re not giving up. We’re gonna figure something else out. I feel like us all hanging around the open house tomorrow and being pains in the asses is a pretty good place to start. I’m sure Aunt Julia would love that. Let’s fuck some shit up.” (Conrad - Episode 3)

“- Maybe Julia was right. Susannah did believe Cousins was a fantasy world. But she made me believe, too. So maybe I can make sure it stays that way.” (Belly - Episode 3)

[sardinesandhumbugs]

It takes an ecosystem...

A/N: Thank you @fan-of-my-fandoms for getting the boat moving on this with your enthusiasm for this idea, and also to all the anons who dropped by to throw yet more fuel on this au fire. This is a oneshot based on the “Portia gets adopted by all the Wild Wooders, several Riverbankers, and Mrs Otter Copes” au. 

This particular oneshot is set from Badger’s POV, since it felt the easiest POV to get an overall impression of this mess, and is meant to give a gist of the vibe I had in mind. 

x

In the wake of the retaking of Toad Hall, a strange sort of truce had settled between the Riverbank and the Wood. 

This wasn’t because, one might expect, either side had offered any sort of apology (and there were plenty owed to go around) but rather that a peculiar double-booking of parenthood had occurred. Because while Portia’s (the eldest daughter of Mrs Otter) kidnapping had begun as an attempt to provoke the Riverbankers, what it had ended in was Portia gaining at least two new weasel uncles and one extremely strong-opinionated stoat aunt. 

And honestly? Badger didn’t really see what all the fuss was about. (This was mostly because if he did see what the fuss was about, he’d be obligated to Help, and the retaking of Toad Hall had been enough excitement for one season.) 

But regardless (and possibly courtesy of the new truce making it easier than ever for even the Riverbankers to appeal to his aid) animals kept turning up on his doorstep with the latest saga. 

“She’s doing it again,” Mrs Otter grumbled, before Badger had even finished opening his front door. “Undermining my authority.”

Badger motioned for the Riverbanker to see herself in. “I take it the ‘she’ in question is the stoat you spoke of before?”

“Portia asked if she could go ice skating with friends and I said no, because there’s no guarantee it’ll be thick enough to stand on, and the last thing I want is to lose my daughter to the river after the year we’ve had,” Mrs Otter griped, making herself thoroughly at home in the way that one does after a too-long day. “And then the moment that I turn my back, that stoat sweeps in and takes her out onto the river anyway!” 

The weather had been bitterly cold recently and, from what Badger had been hearing, most animals had ventured out onto the frozen river. There had even been races, with the only injury incurred that from a bad slip.  

“Was there any trouble?” he asked. “On the river, I mean.”

Mrs Otter glowered. “She twisted her ankle.”

“That happens to pups her age.”

“It wouldn’t have happened at all, had she not been out when I said no!” Mrs Otter snapped.  

“It mightn’t do her any harm to be out and about,” Badger told her gently. “To have some fun - or normality.”

She snorted. “Normality? What could be possibly normal about having the same Wild Wooders who kidnapped my daughter hanging around the Riverbank like it’s nothing?”

“Does Portia seem distressed by their presence?” Badger asked, already knowing the answer.  

 Mrs Otter glowered again. If the term ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ had been about, she would have swung the diagnosis like a baseball bat. As things were, however, all she was left with was a daughter who cussed more creatively than a sailor, and a gaggle of Wild Wooders who kept getting under her feet. 

“She’s also picked up all sorts of foul language,” she added belatedly. 

Badger grinned. “I seem to remember another otter who had to hastily clean up her language when her first pup came along.” He poured a mug of tea and handed it over to the grousing otter. “She’ll grow up. You did, after all.”  

“I was never that bad.”

“You regularly threatened to run away to join the Wild Wooders whenever your mother made you eat your greens,” Badger reminded her, with only the barest edge of teasing. “You forget, I was around when you were Portia’s age.”

Mrs Otter didn’t have much to say to that. 

x

“Yer an insecti- insecurei- insect-e-vore...” 

Badger waited patiently for the weasel to find his way to the end of his sentence. It wasn’t unheard of for the Wild Wooders to seek out his advice, but in Badger’s experience, it tended to be for the more life-threatening situations - someone had caught pneumonia, or broken a rib, or eaten something they really, really shouldn’t have... 

It generally wasn’t for whatever... this was. 

“You eat worms, right?” the weasel finally settled on. 

Badger observed the weasel. The animal wore a red-stained tie (made all the clearer for the unfortunate - or short-sighted - choice of a white fabric) and, as far as Badger could remember, was one of the Chief Weasel’s sidekicks. The name Lesser rang a bell. 

“I do indeed eat worms,” Badger conceded. “When the mood takes me.”

“Do you know how to make worm broth?” 

“I have been known to make it, on occasion.”

“I need some.”

 “I do not,” Badger added, “have any on the go at this exact second.”

“That’s okay, I’ll wait right here.”

Badger gave the weasel another look. He believed the animal would just wait, too. He was probably going to regret asking this, but: “What do you need worm broth for? I wasn’t under the impression it was a favourite among your kind.”

The weasel squirmed. “It’s for the otter pup.”

“The otter pup.”

“She went out in the snow the other day and - uh, well...”

“Twisted an ankle?” Badger offered.

“Something like that. And, see, one of the other pups said that their mum always makes them worm broth when one of them’s sick, only we tried to make what we thought’d be worm broth, and it came out...” Lesser declined to describe it. “So, you see, we thought you’d know how to make it-”

“I do,” Badger said, “and I’m not going to.”

“But-”

“If you’re needing an expert in worm broth, I suggest you appeal to Mole’s nature,” he continued. “He usually has some on the go and, if not, you’ll do a lot better convincing him than me.” 

x

It was not two days later that his door was subjected to yet another round of knocking. And he would have told his would-be guest to stop abusing his hospitality except - well - it was Ratty. 

He ushered in the water rat, relieved to discover that Ratty’s previous visits hadn’t been mere outliers, but perhaps indicators of regular occurrence. 

Regular occurrence, he quickly discovered, as long as there was chaos on the Riverbank. 

“Are you quite sure we can’t do anything about the Wild Wooders, Badger?”

Badger pushed a steaming mug into Ratty’s paws. If Mrs Otter’s visit was anything to go by, then this was not going to be a quick turnaround. “Have they done anything worth doing anything about?”

“It’s not about what they’ve done, but what they’re going to do.”

“And what is that?”

Ratty mumbled something into his drink.

“Yes?”

“They’re dragging Mole into... whatever they’re up to,” Ratty muttered. 

“I doubt Mole can be dragged into anything he doesn’t want to be,” Badger replied, entirely honestly. “What nefarious schemes are they enrolling Mole into now?”

“One turned up on our doorstep, asking for worm broth.”

“Ah yes, worm broth. The most heinous of meals.”

Ratty’s whiskers twitched self-consciously. “That’s not the principle of the thing. The principle of the thing is-” He faltered, and that flicker of righteous outrage faded. “The thing is that the first time Mole crossed paths with the Wild Wooders, they scared him half to death.”

“Animals change, Ratty.”

“These lot don’t.”

“Then circumstances do.” 

Badger watched the son of his late friend fret, and marvelled at how, even though father and son differed in such ways (he never remembered the previous Rat getting quite so caught up in his own mind), he could still read Ratty the same way he had his father. Ratty’s paw ran along the back of his neck, coming to a stop at that hand-me-down hat, just as his father had done in his rare moments of discomfort. 

“Ratty,” Badger said, “you’re not to blame for what happened that day.”

“I never said I was,” Ratty replied, just a little too curtly to be wholly at ease. “But...” and here, Badger could hear the truth cracking, “it’s true, isn’t it? If I hadn’t let him go off into the Wood alone...” 

“Then things would be different,” Badger said simply. “As is the case with most choices. Now, Mole’s a grown animal; if he wants to help the Wild Wooders prepare a little bit of comfort food for a sick otter pup, then I think there’s nothing you can really do to stop him.”

x

By the time the next door knock arrived, Badger wasn’t even surprised. 

He was, however, surprised to see the duo in question. 

“I see you’re back on your feet, Portia,” he rumbled.

The otter pup shuffled from foot-to-foot, but kept her paw steadily over her nose, a bloodied handkerchief pressed into place. “Fell outta tree,” she mumbled around the makeshift compress. 

“Are ya gonna let us in, or are ya gonna leave her to bleed all over your porch?” the Chief Weasel demanded. 

Badger raised an eyebrow but gestured for them to enter. Portia bustled herself in with no reserves, but Badger didn’t miss the way the Chief gave him a wary look-over before following after the pup. The unease didn’t let up, even while Badger was seeing to Portia’s nose. 

“So, fell out of a tree, did you?” Badger prompted. “Last I checked, otters weren’t an arboreal species.”

“A what-species?” Portia asked. 

“Tree-dwelling.”

“Oh.” Portia tried to wipe the blood clear, and Badger firmly - but not harshly - slapped her paw away before she could smear it across her fur. “That’s probably why I fell out then.”

Reassured she hadn’t broken her nose, only given it a shock, he passed her towel to ease the blood. “So what were you doing up one?”

“Fetching a kite. One of the weasel pups’ ones got stuck.” 

Badger glanced to the Chief in a ‘and you left the otter pup with the recently-twisted ankle to get it back’ kind of way. 

“She said she could do it just fine!” the Chief snapped. “Ain’t my fault if she didn’t tell me she couldn’t climb!” 

“S’true,” Portia mumbled.

“Well, there’s not much more to be done,” Badger announced. “And what have we learned from this?”

“That I need to get better at climbing trees,” Portia replied instantly. 

Badger decided that was the best he was going to get. He let the odd duo out, but not before he saw the Chief Weasel pat the otter on the head in a decidedly paternal manner.  

 x

Badger quickly resigned himself that it was going to be at least a month of odd duos. 

“My front door hasn’t seen this much action... well, ever,” he announced to the mole and weasel on his doorstep. Both looked suspiciously sheepish, and Lesser was fiddling with the arm of his glasses. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen an otter pup?” Mole asked. 

“I suppose the otter pup in question would be Portia,” Badger made the educated guess of. 

“You have seen her then?”

“No.” Badger let the seconds pass before eventually caving to curiosity. “Why-”

“No reason!” Lesser announced, and dragged the mole off. 

Badger shut the door and headed back inside. With the way this season was going, he didn’t doubt that he’d discover what was going on before long. 

x

“Hide and seek in the Wild Wood!” Mrs Otter bemoaned. “Who thinks that’s a wise idea for an otter pup?”

“Probably a Wild Wooder,” Badger replied. He’d gone to the trouble of making his visitor a cup of tea, and his hospitality had been duly rewarded by watching it go cold in her paws. It was, however, making a good prop for Mrs Otter to wave about whenever she needed Emphasis. “And they did find her, I presume?”

“Up a tree. She stayed up it for a good hour, just to make sure she won the game.”

Badger made a mental note that apparently Portia had made good on her promise to get better at climbing trees. “Safe?”

“Unharmed, if that’s what you mean,” Mrs Otter muttered. 

“Then I really don’t see what has caused your distress.”

“It’s not safe for a Riverbanker!”

“Then it’s just as well she’s also under the care of Wild Wooders,” Badger replied tiredly. “Anyway, from what I heard of it, Mole was also keeping an eye on her.”

Mrs Otter grumbled again, in such a way that made Badger doubt that her eldest was going to be under the care of a certain mole any time soon. 

x

At this point, Badger thought, he probably should just consider giving out keys to his front door and save himself the hassle of having to answer it. He opened his door to see - briefly - two soaked animals, before both dashed inside. 

“HiMrBadgerHaveyoumetmyAuntieCheryl,” Portia blurted as she scooted inside. 

‘AuntieCheryl’  turned out to be a stoat and also the Chief Weasel’s other second-in-command. She made a cursory attempt at a glower as she passed the badger, but was hampered somewhat by her chattering teeth. 

“Pleasure as always, Portia,” Badger returned. He raised his gaze briefly to the thick rain beyond his door, before shutting it firmly out, and following after his impromptu guests. Portia was quick in claiming the chair closest to the fire but not, it had to be said, for herself; rather she had bundled the stoat into it and was already introducing a blanket to the mix. 

“It’s rather wet for a walk through the woods, wouldn’t you say?” Badger hazarded. 

“T’wasn’t raining when we started,” the stoat grumbled. It sounded like she was aiming for a growl, but had again been hindered by the shivers. 

“It’s really raining buckets out there,” Portia said, and Badger understood this to be the closest she was going to give for an apology for barging in. “Auntie Cheryl would have caught her death of cold if we’d tried to make it back to the Wooders - or the Riverbank.”

“I’m fine,” the stoat muttered. This would have been a lot more believable had she not been retreating steadily further into the blanket. 

“You’re not fine, you’re shivering,” Portia said. 

“Little bit of rain never did anyone any harm-”

“Auntie Cheryl,” Portia said, and - to Badger’s amusement - she had her paws on her hips in the spitting image of her mother; “you are going to sit there and concentrate on not catching a cold while I get you something to warm you up.” Portia leant over to Badger and whispered, “Where’s the kitchen?”   

“That door.”

“Thank you.”

With the same busyness that Badger recognised from Mrs Otter, Portia bustled into the kitchen, leaving him alone with ‘Auntie Cheryl’.

‘Auntie Cheryl’ eyed the badger warily. 

“I’ll be out from under your nose before you know it,” she deadpanned. “Until then, I’ll try not to drip too much on the furniture.”

Badger sighed and pulled up a chair from the dining room. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the furniture,” he said. “It’s seen its fair share of damp guests.” 

“Mr Badger!” Portia hollered from the kitchen. “Where do you keep your pots?”

“Second cupboard to the right!” Badger called back. 

 He didn’t entirely miss the way the stoat’s form stilled at his booming voice. 

“So,” he said. “You’re the Auntie Cheryl I’ve been hearing all about.”

The stoat bared her teeth. “I suppose that worrywort of a mother has been talking your ear off about me,”

“Oh, I’ve heard about you from several quarters,” Badger replied, honestly enough. “But yes, the elder otter certainly does have her qualms about you.”

“She has her qualms about everything,” Cheryl snarled back.

“She has her reasons. After all, she did believe she’d lost her daughter only last winter.”

“But she never went looking proper for her, did she? She, what, scurried around the edge of the Wood for an afternoon, and then proclaimed her daughter a lost cause?” The stoat’s lip curled. “No Wild Wooder would ever give up on a pup so easily.”

No, Badger believed they wouldn’t. And he could read the anger in the stoat - this animal, who had somehow gained the mantel of aunt, and now simmered in the ire that her newfound niece would ever be abandoned. 

“Things aren’t quite so simple as that.”

“It is!” the stoat snapped. “You either care enough to fight, or you don’t. She didn’t.”

He regarded the stoat. She was younger than Mrs Otter, but carried the years she did wear with a sharp sort of pride. Time had not yet dulled her claws nor tired her senses, and both were buffered by a quickness to clash. 

“You’ve never lost a fight that truly mattered, have you?” he asked. 

“Toad Hall--”

He held up a paw. “Toad Hall was a place, a thing,” he said. “You held on to it because you wanted it, not because it was precious. I’m talking about fighting for someone, and losing.”

Cheryl didn’t answer, but her face twisted as she searched - fruitlessly - for a reply to prove him wrong.

“It’s not a failing,” he said gently. “Merely an observation.”

“I don’t get what this has to do with anything.”

“Mrs Otter has,” he said.

“Then she should’ve fought harder.”

“We don’t always have that option.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Then what would you have done in the wake of a hunt?” he asked. “Defend your mate or protect your young?” He waited merely long enough for the stoat to realise she had no easy answer. “Like I said,” he continued, “fighting harder isn’t always an option.”

“Auntie Cheryl, Auntie Cheryl, I made you tea!” Portia came running in, wafting in the faint aroma of burnt... something from the kitchen. “Well, I tried, but Mr Badger’s stove is weird, and the kettle boiled over, and I might’ve knocked a bit of onion into the water from one of the garlands - sorry, Mr Badger--”

“No problem.”

“--but it looks like the right sort of colour, and you like onion in your food normally, so it’s probably okay–”

‘Auntie Cheryl’ dutifully sipped her onioned tea and didn’t reignite the conversation for the rest of her visit. 

x

A/N: Aaaaaand I’m gonna stop there because this is getting long. I was intending this to have more of a narrative focusing on the Mrs O & Cheryl dynamic, but it mostly became “animals keep turning on Badger’s doorstep thanks to Portia”. I was aiming for both Mrs O and Cheryl to have valid points (Mrs O can be over-protective, while Cheryl isn’t always the most careful) and for them to be dealing with the side of Portia installed from the other guardian (Cheryl being mothered, and Mrs O dealing with recklessness) and I hope I got some of that across. 

I might do more of this? This was fun, but I can’t really add much more to this post without it becoming A Lot to read. (3K. Oof. If you got this far, I’m impressed!) 

If you did read and enjoy this, please leave a comment or nice tags so I can bask in their light and be energised for more writing! 

[fabricated-misslieness]

𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 Chapter 15: Made in Life

Hero Kaeya x Villain male reader

Summary: Behind Life's walls greets the unknown, the fickleness of morality, and the narcissistic history of two monarchs.

Word Count: 7,394

Warnings: swearing, insincere insults, mentions of murder

Mayb’s notes: nada

There were many Kingdoms that strayed from the Seven, but you knew many of their names. The Kingdom of Life, however... you'd never heard of it before. Regardless, the journey was steady. You knew where to go and what path to take, both those littered by tracks and those covered by vegetation, a sign of scarce travel; courtesy of her.

Come find us.

Her voice haunted you. Though Lady Death had the most patience of anyone in the world–as she witnessed the birth of young and reaped them many years later as their body grew old–her voice persisted in the back of your mind. It came to you each morning and continued to be a reminder to you throughout the day.

It seemed like she was impatient, a trait of hers you wouldn't have imagined. This plague had wrought the Earth and stolen many souls, perhaps she was tired. You certainly were.

Kaeya's injury and your mistake weren't helping with Lady Death's reminders. Progress was slow and daunting and rest was more than necessary.

At least he was healing. You, on the other hand, were only going to get worse. You had read all about Necromancy in that book. It taught you without bias, posing the magic not as taboo, rather like any other practice. The lesson that advised the deepest caution was "Connecting with Death". You still remembered it well. The section stretched far with side effects in case of failure. It covered the subject meticulously. Though, the only thing it lacked was a cure. You had a nasty feeling there wasn't one at all. Whatever the case, it would be the cause of your demise, but it would be slow.

...a slow, painful death. That wasn't what you imagined for yourself.

Sometime along the way, a vicious rain began to pelt down upon you. Camp set up was swift. Your tent was saved for the horses, and Kaeya's for the two of you.

You stick a hand out of the tent's slit. Harsh, cold globs of rain beat at your fingers.

The rain wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and after that, the dirt would turn to viscous mud and the horses would have trouble traversing it. Rest seemed to be the only option.

Come find us. Lady Death... nagged.

To curse her was blasphemy, especially as one of her so called disciples. But she was incessant with her calls, and they were always the same. Passive, neutral, you weren't able to perceive any sort of emotion from her. As the annoyance becomes clear, an empty feeling forms from within your chest, as if she knew you were thinking about her.

You collapse backwards with a sigh, at Kaeya's side. He had long since accepted the rain, unlike you. At your movement, he turns to you, the hand laid atop his abdomen moving to grasp yours. He was recovering nicely.

You turn on your side to face him, accepting his hand graciously and moving your hands, now intertwined, to continue to rest atop his stomach. He smiles at you, wordlessly, and you return the gesture.

"What do you think about the weather then, oh captain?" He teases.

You roll your eyes, yet follow along anyway. "Oh, it'll be stayin' for the whole day. Good thing our crew knows how to withstand the rain."

He laughs, breaking character. "I'm sure it'll be alright."

"It will be." You reply. It was an agreement to his words, but you knew that it was also a form of reassurance to yourself. If Lady Death deemed you sloth, would she reap your soul early? No, she wouldn't, couldn't defy fate like that.

Kaeya taps your nose with his free hand. Light sparks under his fingertip. "What was that?"

He chuckles at your immediate interest, "You remember all those times when you conjured up a night sky? I learnt that same spell long ago... to cope with you leaving me."

"I'm here now."

"I know you are." He smile only widens, though a sadness you remorse paints his lips. "And you've just made me remember it."

He turns away from you, up at the ceiling of the tent, and casts the spell.

A night sky illuminates the tent. Its landscape beheld a myriad of stars, its mirage one of intricacy. Different stars twinkled in varying intervals. A lot of them glowed in cool colors, some in electrifying blues and a few in reds or yellows. When the red ones sparkled, they caught your eye. Sometimes, some stars began to fall, and they dragged through the sky, leaving behind trails. They always came in two, and their trail was always filled in by more stars almost immediately. Barely was there a patch in the sky without a decorating star.

Kaeya watches you admire his illusion. It shines in your eyes, and in that way, he can see the beauty of it, but that wasn't what he was looking at. His gaze was trained on your smile. It told him many things, a nostalgia of the past, a joy and tranquility from the view.

When you turned to look at him, his head snapped up, as if he were caught. It was rather funny. You look towards the illusion again as you catch it change in your peripheral.

Many things in it move, all at once, even stars that weren't meteorites. It swirls, like a tornado, seemingly endlessly. In the midst of the quick, dizzying movement, the colors don't blur together, they remain individual, forming a medley pleasing to the eye. You suppose, sort of, that it reflects him. Complex in all his ways, and beautiful all the same.

You look at him again, he's already staring at you. When you match his gaze, he doesn't back down. He smiles, and so do you.

Come find us.

This time, you ignore her.

The rabbit was struggling. Its back legs had been decapacitated. It was seized, harshly, by the scruff of the neck. Rabbits weren't high on the food chain. It had lost many of its kin already to eagles, big cats, everything and anything was capable of taking down a rabbit. Yet, it fought. It wanted to live. It didn't want a fate like this.

It swung its body back and forth, hoping to throw off the hold on its neck. It kicked its remaining legs, the front legs, aimlessly in the air. Most of all, it remembered one thing: it was alive and it could persevere.

"This is disgusting."

The rabbit gives a shrill screech.

"What is?" You ask, not even flinching as you take the rabbit's last life force, its last efforts, and give them to Kaeya. Your body wants to lurch, as if adverse to the healing and adamant that that life force belonged to you, but you suppress it.

The cryomancer sighs, pressing a hand over his abdomen. It hurt less now, and it was all thanks to you. Still... "Having to bring your hunt all the way back here. How long did it struggle?"

"Couple minutes or so."

Kaeya flinches when he hears the rabbit thud against your makeshift countertop. The subsequent thud, thud, thud of the knife as its body is sliced to pieces only makes it worse. "And you don't it's wrong?"

He preferred clean kills, surprise kills. In that way, one didn't have to think about how their life couldn't been just before their last breaths end.

Your attempt at stifling a snort fails completely and Kaeya huffs at the noise. It was rather hypocritical of him, you think. He showed no–not even hardly any–remorse as he took the lives of those bandits. Were they perhaps not worth his regrets? They were low-lives, they did not have regrets either. This rabbit in comparison, supposedly, was innocent. "I'm healing you."

"I know that." Kaeya replies quick. "But it doesn't make it any better."

You sigh. The final thud does not strike a body, instead it sticks the knife into the fragile log. You stand from your kneel at the tree stub, and make your way towards him. He sits by the campfire, its flame casting a glow of red over his dark skin. It was a contrast against the cool blues and white of his clothing and the dark blue of his hair, and it illuminated his face clearly.

He wore a frown, a deep frown you wanted off his face. His gaze remained on the ground, at the burnt grass around the campfire. He didn't quite seem to notice you so close to him.

You bring a hand to cup his cheek, which clearly shows your presence. He was stubborn in his disagreement, though, refusing to look up at you. Your hand sneaks under his chin, cupping his jaw instead, and pulls his head up to look at you.

He purses his lips, a click on his tongue of annoyance, as his gaze meets yours.

"I'm sorry." Though he only had one eye you could look into, the roll of it was clear. You huff at his persistence. "Really."

He remains silent. You roll your eyes at him this time. You press your thumb, the only one under his chin, against the corner of his lips. It piques his interest. You press it up.

The way he looks up at you, one eyebrow raised and only one corner of his lips upturned, is quite silly. You allow yourself a laugh, and when your other hand cups the other side of his jaw and your other thumb presses onto the other corner of his lips, you can see he's almost breaking.

You bring his lips up. Only seconds later, he grabs both your wrists in his hands, and pushes your hands away from him. He huffs a noticeable laugh out of his nose, and the smile you brought to his face remains, now genuine. "You're a fucking asshole." He snickers endearingly.

"Oh? But you liked this asshole." You take a seat next to him, bringing your hands back to his face and cupping his cheeks instead. He doesn't fight it, though the hold on your wrists remains.

Liked. He's not so sure of that, the past tense, anymore.

One thumb traces the apple of his cheek. He leans into that hand. "I did mean it, anyhow." You begin, "It's simply that this is what I must do. You and I are not herbologists, and neither are we healers."

His hand, holding your wrist, instead moves to rest about your hand. "I understand that. It just won't sit right with me. But," He sighs, "keep doing it."

"Okay." You say.

He nods his head. "Okay."

Kaeya knows, because the air becomes chiller and vegetation all in all begins to appear less and less, that you're about to come across a snowy area. If he were to be honest, he's quite excited. He was a cryomancer, after all. Though Cryomancy was only a fighting skill, he was attuned to the cold too. He thrived in it. He thrived in the snow, most of all. Its presence was a battery for his magic reserve, which almost functioned like a stomach. A full belly meant a happy mind, and it would surely help his healing process.

He was already excited for it, already knew it was coming, but the sight of it gave him a rush even better than the one he'd gotten from the realization.

When he finally catches sight of it, he just about freezes. Nyx is the only thing that keeps him going.

A wide grin creeps onto his face. He pulls on his reins and barely waits for her to slow to a stop before hopping off himself. The swift movement is nothing but worrying to you. He could tear his stitches!

The sun reflected off of the monotone snow and it was blinding, but he didn't care. He ran towards the it, with you and Nyx in tow. Somehow, he was able to outrun a horse.

When he makes it onto his haven, he sinks to his knees. The snow is ten inches tall, draping over his thighs like a blanket. They were barely covered, his pants' fabric too thin, but he relished in the feeling of the cold. He was far from the burning humidity of the rainforest or the heat of the sun's rays on his back. It was different, too, from the bitter cold of each morning as he rose from his tent. It was much better than that. This cold was wonderful, refreshing; he inhaled it in like a breath of fresh air.

Next to him, with a panic, you sink down to your knees too. "Kaeya, are you alright?"

"Yes," His grin grows wider, it stretches from ear to ear. He lays down atop the snow, as if he was giving it a warm hug. "more than alright."

"Gods..." You sigh, letting your head fall backwards tiredly to face the sky. "He's just fucking happy."

He giggles–really giggles!–at that. His head remains practically glued to the floor, even as you stand from the cold ass floor and pat the snow away from your clothes.

"Get up, darling." You sigh.

"Mm-mm." He shakes his head with the protest, like a child. It causes the snow to cake even more of his head, covering his blue locks unevenly.

You click your tongue at him. Guess you'll have to do this manually. You scoop him up in your arms, and you swear he's gotten heavier. You haven't carried him in years, no, but this felt impossible.

His back is to you and your arms are under his armpits, hoisting him up, and clasped atop his chest. His legs are entirely straight and unbent at the knee; his ankles remain in the snow, heels touching the ground, but toes off it, as if the touch, even through his leather boots, stimulates him. He's definitely making himself heavier—question is, how?

That wasn't the point. Anyway, you hauled him up higher, and it forced his heels off the floor. The next time you plop him down, his full foot is on the ground. You push him forward, confident that he won't let himself fall.

Except he does, because apparently a ten inch blanket of snow works like a pillow. You rush forward to catch him by wrapping your arms around his chest again.

"Are you really going to make this difficult?" You sigh, hoisting him back upright.

"Come on," Kaeya whines, "I deserve the rest."

"You're nearly fully recovered." You reason.

He shakes his head yet again. The snow all over his hair whips against your nose and covers it with its own, new layer. "No, no, I'm still heavily injured!" He proclaims loudly.

His whole attitude–the strength for the scream, his quick rush to the snow, his incessant protest–it proved otherwise. He knows this, of course, he's aware enough for that. So he covers it up, "Please?" It was a genuine plead.

You press your head against his cold shoulder and huff, "Fine. Let's at least get a little deeper in, shall we?"

It was a little before evening when you made camp. You were still probably within the heart of this area. Lady Death told you were to go, though she didn't find herself gracious enough to tell you the name of where you were or perhaps give you a map. Not that you were expecting any of that.

The sun was going to set soon.

Kaeya sits close to the campfire, at the tent's entrance. Part of his love for the cold gave into his love for warmth. How he was a lover of both at the same time, he didn't know (What he did know is that he's loved worse things before).

The love that seeped between the two temperatures was the warmth after the cold. It melted the snow off his clothes and skin, and though it left him feeling naked and undecorated, it was a tender feeling. The warmth reminded him of many things, things that snow also did. It felt like a blanket, keeping him safe from the bitter cold and the outside world. It felt like safety, like that which emanated from Crepus and Dawn Winery's fireplace. Most of all, it felt like love, and he hardly needed a reason why.

He observes the lovely outside nature. Meanwhile, you lay inside bundled in your furs and curled into a ball. The downside of knowing many magics was that you weren't completely attuned to a single elemental practice. He doesn't know how, later on, you'll squeeze under the same blanket (the bigger one laid atop the horses) but that was a problem for later.

On the horizon, the sun was beginning to set. It still, however, shined brightly off of the white snow. The trees' leaves were caked with many layers of snow, and so was everything else, fern and grass, yet it all remained evergreen and alive. Parts of the snow, blue, yellow, even pale red, seemed to sparkle.

Kaeya yearned for a snowflake. Each one was unique. When he casted spells, snowflakes soon followed, but since they were man-made, they were always quite uniform. He wanted to see one, a natural one, and will it to expand. He wanted to see its intricacy.

His wish was granted.

It was when the blue sky began to turn red, orange, the medley of the rainbow, that it began to snow.

Kaeya gasps. It was small, quiet, but prolonged, and it catches your attention.

"Kaeya?" You call for him, hardly worried anymore. 

He doesn't say anything, though, as he stands from the tent and far enough from the campfire, as if in a trance. At first, only tiny snowflakes fall, small in quantity, and they do so slowly, gently. Kaeya catches one in his gloved hand. The darkness of its leather contrasts against the snowflake. 

He doesn't have time to admire just the one as more and more begin to fall. He catches a lot of them on the top of his hood. The rest land on his outstretched, covered arms or his open hands.

This is how you find him, twirling in the snow trying to catch snowflakes. They would eventually clump together, forming secure but muddled groups. If he knew that, he didn't care. He would be able to isolate one of them anyway.

The sunset behind him... casting its final glow onto his figure as he spun in the beginning snow fall... Gods.

You bite back the urge to bury yourself back in the tent and away from–as he said–refreshing cold, and admire him by the entrance. The overwhelming urge slowly dissipates as you take him in even more.

His spinning caused the sunrays to illuminate him once everywhere. One moment, the dark blue of his hair was a light, electric color instead; vibrant, just like his smile. The other, his face shined bright instead. It was already bright from his expression, wide eye, eyebrows raised, grin showing teeth; but it gave him something new. His dark skin glowed gold, like honey, so sweet you could gorge upon it. His smile–you could mention it ten times over–was wide, the widest you'd ever seen it in a long time. His joy and enthusiasm was clear, bursting within him.

He was so pretty.

You stand from the tent and make your way over, managing to ignore the cold nipping at your skin.

Kaeya notices you from his peripheral. The happiness on his face is even more evident when he turns towards you, as his partner is trying to enjoy the things he does. He beckons you over. You obey, despite that being your goal already.

The cryomancer dumps the snow from one of his hands onto the other. Then, he digs through it, as if trying to find the perfect snowflake. The small, determined "aha!" he lets out when he finds it is pure amusement to your ears. He lifts it up with his free hand and, with the mutter of a spell, enlarges it for admiration.

The setting sun would've cast half of it in shadow, and the other half in gold, yet it glowed a bright blue. You hardly needed to think why.

It had six branches from the middle, all brimming with their own subsections; and those subsections, their own branches. It was clear at the edges, where ice was less abundant. Overall, it wasn't very opaque, allowing you to see Kaeya's face right through it. He was admiring your face, your amazement, so you gave it to him. The center was oddly yet perfectly hexagonal, uniform even in nature. Some branches were the same thickness as their mirroring or neighboring branch, some varied greatly. That was what made it beautiful. It wasn't perfect, it was wild, unique, different.

"It's beautiful." You breathe out.

"Yeah. It is." He chuckles, waving away the snowflake. As it lands on the ground, it melts into the rest of the snow. He drops the rest of the snow from his other hand. "You're probably getting cold, aren't you?"

You chuckle yourself, "Yes. But I'd like to spend time with you out here."

His smile grows smaller but bashful. "Ah, well..." He turns away from you, suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want you to ca–"

"I want to." You interrupt him. "I do."

The bright joy on his face comes back again. Suddenly, he rushes forward, trapping you in an embrace. It's incredibly warm in this unbroken cold, and a feeling you relish. His cloak was still cold though, so you wrapped your arms around his waist underneath it instead. His nose buries into your neck, and somehow you can feel his smile against your skin.

When he pulls back from you, he still has his arms wrapped around your neck. His eye is full of admiration. It's lovely. "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for."

The sudden movement had rustled most of the snow off his cloak. When you part, now fully, you notice something different with it. Snowflakes stick to the navy blue, as if forming a pattern on their own. You pull the side forward to show it to him. At the sight of it, his face lights up even more. Was it intentional? It didn't matter.

He laughs, ecstatic, and takes of his cloak to admire it. The designs on it were meticulous, mostly snowflakes in varying sizes, all entirely unique; they were accompanied by lines interconnecting them. The entire design sparkled as it caught the remaining light of the sun.

It was nice to see him happy like this. You didn't even think about how long it would last for.

Death was everywhere and you could sense it. Long ago, you'd learned to suppress its presence. Had you not learnt to do so, you would feel its company every second of the day. Many a necromancer fell to madness because death had simply torn them apart. Its eyes were prying, its hands tended to, just barely, touch you for attention. Usually, they did not interfere with human life, though many wanted to; unless one was a necromancer. Necromancers were more susceptible to death, it was practically natural.

In some places, however, you couldn't simply ignore death. These places were brimming with death and suffering and sorrow, and it was so overwhelming there was nothing to think of except death.

Before your search, you had only ever felt such a feeling in graveyards. Afterwards, as you visited each ghost town you heard of, you discovered the same feeling. As sorrowful as these towns were, none of them was as bad as Everfree. The death there actually interfered with the susceptible living, necromancers, whispering in their ears.

That underlying feeling of death had only increased since you'd succumbed to the Smoke of Necromancy. It caused you to be acutely aware of much of the death around you, whether natural, accidental, or premeditated.

However, as you neared the Kingdom of Life, the feeling of undead company diminished. At some point, it ceased entirely.

The Seven Kingdoms had their godly patrons: Mondstadt had Favonius or Barbatos; Sumeru, Lesser Lord Kusanali; Liyue, Rex Lapis. Smaller kingdoms were hardly any different. Did the Kingdom of Life have their own patron? Perhaps Shri-Lakshmi? Regardless, even a God's influence couldn't give immortality. Lady Death and the balance between life and death would never allow that. The lack of death's presence near Life was a strange phenomena you ignored.

Come find us.

Yet, before you stand the stone walls of Life. They're high and intimidating and most of all, distrustful. Their gates, however, are the opposite. They're open and unguarded, of only wooden doors and not of iron bars. Regardless, the sight of civilization made you subconsciously prepare for the amount of death that reeked within cities, but... none stood before you. This has never happened before.

You gulp back the feeling of unease and go ahead. The shock, though, continues on as you see the citizens.

Everyone here was different from the other, each unique like snowflakes. All of them seemed to come from one of the Seven Kingdoms: a woman walked by, she wore a gorgeous sari; a street performer acted out a Natlan play, wearing a long shawl over leggings of a material rarely seen; a nearby vendor wore a kimono. So many cultures were everywhere that you couldn't discern who was a local and who was not.

It wasn't what made them stand apart from each other shocking, it was what made them different from you. They wore "replacements" that were visible. In fact, they seemed to wear them proudly. Folk with replacement arms cut their sleeves at the shoulder, for example. Just like their clothing, none of it was uniform. Some people were missing legs, others arms, others parts of their pelvis or the side of their stomach.

When Kaeya catches sight of a woman wearing a golden eyepatch, he suddenly goes cold, a bitter cold. He wraps an arm around himself, his other hand's fingers ghost over his right eye subconsciously.

Nothing specific really caused you to think of it, but your own hand lands on your right hip. It was still there. The spot wasn't vacant, rotting or incessantly bleeding. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What do you make of this?" Kaeya asks, his tone low so as to not draw attention.

"I don't know." Death remained scarily absent, and when it was, you could usually feel those close to death instead. You could feel none of that. "Their... original limbs were missing. They're replaced by prosthetics or covered by gold plates."

"Mhm." He hums in affirmation, his gaze attached intently to each passerby. "How do you reckon they lost their limbs?"

"Couldn't have been a nation-wide accident." You conclude. "Everyone's lost something different."

"Do you think we should try to fit in?" Kaeya proposes.

"You already do." He scoffs at that, so you apologize. "Dunno, what could I wear? How am I to get my hands on a golden plate?"

"Yeah, I don't know either. Let's just tread lightly. Try not to get any unwanted attention." That, you were good at.

Once Kaeya leaves the two horses at the stable for the both of you, you set off into the city. Your cloaks were overwhelmingly different from anyone else here; showing off their prosthetics meant that many could not cover their body's silhouette like you. Blending in was not so easy. Stares lingered and voices gossiped. The next time the darkness of shadows enveloped the two of you, Kaeya pulls you into an alley.

"Best we take my way." He says.

You stare out from the alleyways, their shadows shrouding you, and observed the people. There wasn't, and it wasn't "hardly", anyone without one of those prosthetics. It puzzled you.

It was funny how, after following Lady Death's command of finding her, or whoever us was, she was silent. She didn't give you anymore guiding commands, leaving the rest of your actions to be steps into the unknown. You know she does many things, but desert wasn't one of them, not until now.

As you walked from one alleyway to the next, you stepped on something that crunched. It was a paper, a flyer that had flown from its post. You held it up just slightly in the sliver of light from a nearby market stand and read.

"King Ki and Queen Laramee proudly invite anyone, and everyone, to the ball of the year celebrating the Queen's birthday." You read only loud enough for him to hear. "Her Majesty declares this year's theme: Masquerade. A parade will be set out beforehand for all to attend. May we dance till our feet (or foot!) fall off and bid Life adieu!"

"We can make up for that Fontaine ball we missed." Kaeya remarks, the humor in his voice only light.

"I suppose..."

Wait. A ball.

"I must have the perfect musicians for this event. I will not settle for less. If you can find…"

"We can't have the same events as last year. She'll deem it too boring."

"No, no, that's not enough, she would hate that."

The "eureka" moment pushes your hands to move, brimming with determination. They grab Kaeya's shoulders firmly to catch his attention. When he catches sight of your growing smile, his eyebrows furrow. "What? What is it?"

"I've figured it out. This–this King," Kaeya snatches the flyer from your hand before the growing strength of your grip can break it. "he's the same man I–we heard before when I examined that body, the one organizing a ball." Everfree had made you totally forget that aspect, the festival.

His eyebrows raise up high. "That–" He seems to choke on his own saliva as he registers it, "him, yeah, that makes sense!"

"The ball is for his queen's birthday," Your fingers snap subconsciously as you figure out details, "that's why he's obsessing over it being perfect."

"Wait, so," Kaeya shakes your hands off his shoulders, pushing his own forward. His eyebrows are furrow now as he thinks, "how does that tie into the Blood Parade? We came to the conclusion that he was the plague's origin."

"He still might be. Which means, his citizens, their prosthetics? They're victims of the Eatening."

The gears in Kaeya's head clearly turn outwardly. He nods his head many times, slowly. His vision unfocused entirely. He fiddles with his own fingers. You were right.

"The question is," You begin, "why?"

"We don't need to know why." He shakes his head, "We just need to stop him." The determination in his eye was clear. If you were to be honest, it was terribly scary. Not only the look, but also the notion that he doesn't deem it necessary to understand the King's motives and that the only option was to put it to an end; and that end, his tone suggested, was death. "You got energy for dress shopping in you?"

The ball was to be held in a week. Until then, you had some time to kill.

Where were you going to get gold plates? How did the people get their hands on them? Just, pop on by the blacksmith? You could bluff it out, say yours broke or lost. Kaeya was good at that. If that was the only plan you could come up with, it was worth a try.

Life eerily reminded you of Nieblina, a place for immigrants, a home away from home. It shot a pang of sorrow through your chest. How long had it been since you were in Nieblina? It hadn't been too long, couldn't have been. So far, you'd been able to keep distracted from it; distracted from the thought of home. But now, when all you could do was wait and ponder, there was no distraction. Home, Nieblina, they might as well be one in the same. You missed it. You missed them, Lorelai, Zero, Morden, fuckin' Maggot.

Most people here clearly didn't come from Life. Life itself was a hubbub of multiple cultures. How did they cope with homesickness? ...how did Kaeya?

A breeze pushed the hair off your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was getting cold, you should head inside, but you stayed instead. You admired the market below you. The night droned on, yet they remained at work. Several lights of clashing, differing colors illuminated the city. No place truly slept. It was a nice comfort.

Bumm!

The clocktower struck midnight. It was a magnificent structure, taller than the city walls. Its stonework was made so that one could admire its detail, even from a distance. The bricks were red, perhaps for the King, and the rooftiles were blue, for the Queen. Somehow, even though they were colors that didn't fit together, they matched perfectly.

Suddenly, a large image projects on top of each side of the tower. It was the Queen, Laramee, slumped over a rock and crying streams of tears that flow onto the barren ground. Once the tears hit the ground, the background to the image appears. It is a garden, abundant with greenery and blue flowers. Just as quick as it came, the image disappears.

You barely register Kaeya as he leans against the railing beside you, until he speaks up. "They're a bit self-absorbed, aren't they?"

Most alleyways had an image of one of the monarchs painted on the walls, as did administrative buildings, as if the citizens were all in a cult dedicated to their worship. The King and Queen each seemed to have their own gimmick.

The King was always portrayed in positions of power, leaning his weight over his dark red greatsword, sitting imposingly on his throne, pointing his hand towards the sky, surrounded by dozens of tiny soldiers.

The Queen, however, was always crying. Sometimes they were joyful tears, other times sorrowful. Much of the art depicted her mourning over her son, a great general who had died in war.

"Yeah." The thought–that other monarchs could be more narcissistic than Mondstadt's–is a bit humorous but the images they had of themselves plastered around the city served you well. It helped you confirm that they were truly the King and Queen you had seen in your vision. But how could you prove it was them who caused the plague? Now, suddenly faced with them, and not a drawn image like the cards, the reality of it set place. They were human, not monsters of the legend of the Abyss or heartless warlords.

To Kaeya, there was no denying it. They were on the cards with a clear symbol, King of Blood and Queen of Tears. The body had shown you that the monarchs were in Everfree, and the ghost town was clearly affected by the Blood Parade. At seven in the evening, the clocktower shined with a different image: the King of Blood commanding his army. His eyes glowed red and his smile was proud. Kaeya interrogated many aspiring villains in his lifetime. He could tell their intent just by the look of them, and it was clearest in him.

The curious part about Life was that it had no churches. The hunch you had about its godly patron, and the assumption that there was one in the first place, was wrong. The other weird structural part was that, within the city walls, there was no graveyard. To bury one's dead outside of the city and in the wilderness, where none of the surrounding area beheld villages that could be claimed by Life, felt treacherous. They were being buried in a place they wouldn't ever call home.

But those decisions weren't yours.

Kaeya ventured out into the city with you in tow. This time, you ignored the stares and the whispers, for you had an actual destination: the blacksmith. You already had some of the conversation planned out. Yours, anyway. Kaeya's skills were nothing to be scoffed at, so improvisation was natural.

Despite being the one that, supposedly, made prosthetics for the people, he too eyed you suspiciously. Still, he regarded you politely with a gruff voice, "What do you need?"

After a brief explanation, Kaeya begins. "An eyepatch," He points at his covered eye. "and..." He gestures towards you.

You pull the top of your shirt down to reveal a part of your chest. The blacksmith peered down, his eyes widen. He can see right through the middle of it, straight at the back of your shirt. He nods grimly. "Allow me to take measurements."

With that errand done, and the final date in your minds, you part from the blacksmith. Kaeya bumps into your shoulder purposefully as you walk. "Did you have that in mind?"

"What?"

"The Eatening injury."

You shrug, "Sort of, not really." It might've been easier to place it on your hip, but your mind jumped to your chest immediately and you didn't have a clue why.

"What, got heartache?" He snickers. It was only a light jab at you, but he didn't know just how much truth there was to that, especially in relation to your regrets.

"...Sure."

Kaeya opens his mouth to continue the banter, but you stop mid-step, making him join you curiously. He follows your gaze at the mural in front of you.

The mural was split in two. The first half depicted the King in war, slaying his foes. He was covered in blood, blood that seemed to steam over his shoulders. His soldiers were long gone, but he still stood. The other half depicted the Queen, still mourning. The beautiful garden around her remained unnoticed by her closed eyes, brimming with tears. She was hunched over a fountain, her tears being its supply of water.

You heard that, when her son died, she spent several years at the Garden of Tears, crying. If the King were to die, the same thing would happen. She would spend the rest of her life mourning.

You turn to Kaeya. He wears a look that, for the first time in ages, you can exactly decipher; not because you knew him well, but because it was extremely clear on his face. This mural didn't affect his sympathy at all. Instead, it set it in even more.

"Should we," You begin, to bring his focus away, "visit that garden?"

He nods his head, curtly. "Yeah."

The clock struck twelve again, twelve in the afternoon, as you set foot in the garden. It was rather fitting.

Despite it being midday, the sun didn't quite reach the garden. It remained serene and blue, unaffected by the sun's warmth or bright sunrays. Huge, blue willows were the cause. They were dotted around everywhere, over each pathway, casting shade over the entire garden. Baby blue lights lined the pathways. They were magical, floating like fireflies. Some strayed from their groups, illuminating the rest of the garden so that it could be admired.

It was mostly populated by flowers, a vast majority blue, some purple, and even rarer still, red. Red for the King, you suppose, and purple for the combination of their two colors. Reds were most common at the fountain at the center of the garden, which could undoubtedly be spotted from any angle.

The garden drew many animals to it, though only small rodents at best. It was the home for birds, rabbits, and many insects; like an oasis in the middle of the big, barren city.

Headstrong or not, Kaeya had to admit the garden was beautiful. He had to take your hand so that he wouldn't stray from your side... or maybe it was the other way 'round, as he dragged you to the nearest bush.

"Blueberries.." He muttered under his breath. He picked one from the rest, squashing it in his palm. It bled red, staining his hands like a crime scene. "Interesting."

The plants here couldn't be trusted. Neither could the fauna.

He picked another. It, too, bled red. The tower, at three o'clock, showed you an image of the King studying from a magic book. The Queen stood next to him, already casting a spell. Kaeya wonders, no, he knows, that this red is caused by a magic spell. Whether it is an illusion or reality, he can't tell.

He leads you to the fountain next. Twelve o'clock showed that the fountain ran on the Queen's tears. He hardly needed to look at the fountain to know that it was true. Much like the rest of the garden, the tears shimmered blue. When stray sunlight gleamed over the top, it shined silver, like the Queen's jewelry.

He snapped a petal off a rose around the fountain's base. The base of the missing petal bled red, which is both something new and a weird reaction from a flower. The petal of the next flower, a blue rose, bled red.

While Kaeya remained inquisitive, you observed his investigation. It was easy to make an assumption, though, that the anything here would bleed red. It was a sort of symbol of their power. They were still able to power the magic lights and grow special and magical plants, despite having greater uses for their magic, like the expansion of their Kingdom.

You wondered, then, what came to be from the wars painted in each mural. If they had won them, what territory did they now own? And why have you never heard of any of these devastating wars?

The Kingdom of Life had already worn down, in some places, with age. Wood creaked, masonry cracked, bright colors faded from constant sunlight. So how old were the monarchs? Did they have predecessors?

"Rex pugnat." Kaeya begins, which catches your attention. He's crouched by the fountain's base, parting the flowers crowded there and reading the faded words carved in gold. "Regina luget. Suum bellum continuat. Lacrimae hoc volunt: desine."

"Do you know what it means?" You ask, pensively.

"Amen for the Church of Favonius..." Kaeya mutters under his breath, deciphering the words in his mind. You chuckle at that. "It's rugged, but," He clears his throat and begins to recite, "The King fights. The Queen mourns. His fight continues. Tears want, no, mean this: cease."

"Hmm," Curiouser and curiouser. "anything else?"

"No." He replies immediately. "What do you make of it?"

"Well," You pause, compiling your thoughts. Did they make sense? Yeah, or as much as they could with what little you had. "the Queen mourned for the loss of her son. The King continued the war, despite the Queen's pleading. She was afraid of losing him as well. Her tears flowed endlessly, and they were a plead for him to stop."

You could see doubt being to spring onto Kaeya's face. The Queen loved the King very much. Two o'clock always showed something different: the two of them dancing; the Queen, then princess, dragging the two of them along, the King, then prince, hiding his smile; the King on one knee, proposing. They were always young at two o'clock. The hour was surely showing that they loved each other.

"If I take him from her..." He trailed off.

"She will mourn." You finish for him. "Maybe forever."

"How..." His lips draw low into a scowl. His gaze remained on the flowers in front of him, alternating blue and red, signifying the Queen and King. "how would we convince him to stop?"

"I'm not sure."

Kaeya sits himself down at the edge of the fountain, weighing his options. "If the Queen can't convince him, how could we?"

And again, your answer is unknown. He heaves a sigh. "My morality is in question."

You snicker, "Mine is already in shambles."

"I mean," He chortles, exasperated, "we have to stop him somehow, right?"

"Yeah." You sit down next to him, tired yourself. Kaeya's mindset, you'd already understood. A man like him, the King of Blood, couldn't be stopped using words or the power of friendship and love; yet, you still wanted another option. There was no other.

"Whatever it takes." Though usually a phrase of ambition, he slumps down against you dejectedly, pressing his nose against your shoulder.

You nod, a comforting hand on his back. "Whatever it takes."

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 2.8.24

Dream 1: I was riding a unicycle around in in the street, going around the block over and over. It was night. Idk what I was doing, maybe passing time? There was something happening, I don't know what but there were crowds of people around even though it was late. Then I went to a skatepark where people were watching something, but no one was actually 'there'. I spun around in a circle on my unicycle and started to get dizzy. I stopped. I thought to myself, I need to figure out a way to do that without getting dizzy. I'd like to know how to do tricks. Then I rode around a bit more but wobbling around everywhere. Again, Idk what I was doing. I felt lonely I guess like I wanted someone to notice me or to have friends or something.

Dream 2: I was at my ex's house. I was here with my siblings and there was this feeling like my ex and his family had tricked us into coming here by preying on our sensibilities. Something low-vibe had just happened and my sibling and I were going to leave. But before we could, the father asked us to pay GST/tax (idk) because they had entertained us for the night, like for the dinner and stuff. I was flabbergasted. I had been a guest in their house and I hadn't even had a good time and now I was expected to pay for it? The father wouldn't let me put on my shoes in the house because he considered it dirty to do so. He said "I can't let you". But when I got here, I had been wearing the shoes in the house and had only taken them off in the first place to be comfortable. It didn't make any sense. He was having trouble loading up the fee on to the card machine so that I could pay.

I did not enjoy hanging out with my ex. He just seemed so far away, I found him so cold and distant. His energy was very repellent. Anyway whatever happened that was the reason for my wanting to leave, it seemed to inconvenience the family. Like it was my fault? I was still sorting out the payment with the father, when I heard the mother from the next room say to my ex sounding all exasperated, "Right, this is the last time you're going to see her". He agreed. I don't know why I had even come. I don't know the specifics but the vibe is this whole family had pretended to appeal to our better natures, that instinct to want to help people and be good. They exploited it to capitalise off us. There were scenes of us all at the dinner table and we had agreed to certain things in conversation without realising the insidious intent behind what it meant, which was something they all coordinated. I remember some chick was there stringing the conversation along making sure it progressed to a particular point to meet their needs. At the same time, my siblings and I weren't any better. We wanted to be good people but we weren't. It's like when rich white girls go to India to have a 'spiritual experience'. It's just a game.

Then I saw in the foyer of their house that they had all my trash from years past. It was all my school backpacks. I don't know why it was there in the first place but I knew they were gonna get rid of it soon. Before leaving, I rummaged around through all my old things, trying to find something to keep. It was all stuff I used to use but don't anymore. School stuff like old exercise books, diaries, text books and spare paper. There were so many backpacks, like dozens. I never had so many irl, probably only 1-2. I continued trying to find something to keep. Then I gave up. There's nothing I wanted. Then I overheard my ex talking to his parents or some other people in the other room. I wondered if he would come out and say goodbye to me properly for the last time. I mean he said before it was the last time right? The vibe was that we had been broken up for a little while (like a continuation from the last dream where I had ended it) but had continued seeing each other. Just like meeting up. God knows why. I didn't really hold out much hope that he would say any words of goodwill. In the end, he didn't see me out. I knew he wasn't the sentimental type anyway. So I left.

Then out of nowhere while we were still inside the house but were 2 seconds from exiting the door, my brother became evil. He took out a gun as if to shoot my sister and I and we had to make a run for it if we wanted to keep our lives. We had to get to the car ASAP. I felt panic. When I reached the car, I got in as fast as I could and got the car running even though my sister wasn't safely inside yet. She was trailing just a little bit behind. I started driving. Slowly. I wasn't going to leave her although she must have feared it. I just wanted a head start on leaving and I was going slow enough that she could jump on board easily enough. My brother appeared from out the door with a backpack on. I was terrified of him. My sister finally was able to get in the car but we weren't going fast enough. It was so slow. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and it didn't do much of anything. The last thing I wanted was my brother to catch up to us. I didn't want to die. Finally, we managed to get on the road and the car gained enough momentum to drive normally, and we got ourselves a few km's away. Then somehow, we were inside the car but hitching a ride on a huge tow truck with a bunch of other empty cars. We were so high up that surely my brother wouldn't be able to get to us from up here. I felt that we were disguised from view, since he would never think to look closely at a tow truck. He wouldn't have been able to make it this far on foot anyway.

Dream 3: There used to be this online game I played in my teens called Habbo Hotel. It was a virtual world and massively multi-player. From what I remember, you kind of just walked around not doing much but it was fun because you could talk to anyone. Anyway, in the dream I was playing Habbo Hotel on my phone at home but it was different to how I remember it. The graphics were weird and it felt like I was inside the world all alone. I didn't know anyone. I wanted to get back to the 'past' world from my teenage years where I knew people, but I couldn't. It's like everyone was back there but I was here and I couldn't go back. It felt so artificial and not fun. There was this 'block' feeling. All interactions within this virtual world were nothing, just emptiness. I wasn't talking to real people, I felt trapped.

Dream 4: I was at work and he bumped into me. My body felt all tingly from the touch and I felt energy course all over. The vibe from him in the dream was one of confidence and even smugness. Also I think it is trying to get me to admit that in the dream from 21/7 where we also bumped into each other, I left out something because I was resisting. In that dream, after we bumped into each other, the next scene was of an older couple telling me this: "We bumped into each other too when we met... and now we're married".

[writing-winters]

SGRoA: Vampire Diaries, S1 E19: Miss Mystic Falls

A beauty pageant? Oh, fuck, I’m so hype for this, y’all have no idea. This is gonna be a shitshow!

Stefan’s back at school! Driving a sports car, getting all the girls all a-giggle. He tells Elena he’s all over those pesky blood cravings, and we all know that’s a lie. He’s too cool, acting too much like Damon. He tells her he’ll catch her up, then goes into the trunk for his bookbag - taking it from its nest in the middle of a bunch of blood bags.

Cut to Damon and the Sheriff: A blood bank’s been burgled. (ooh, look at all those Bs!) The records had been altered, but the night guy didn’t remember doing it. They’ve increased security at the hospital and are giving all the guards vervain. Uncle John suggests that he and Damon team up to find the vampire(s) responsible, and Damon of course has to say yes. I hope he figures out Uncle John’s plans soon. I mean, yeah, obviously John wants the town to know about Stefan and Damon, but like, beyond that? and also Stefan and Damon aren’t terribly keen on all the other vampires out committing vampirey crimes, they’re actually, like, upstanding citizens? They deserve to be on the Founders’ Council, actually.

And speaking of the Founders, Alaric has had his curriculum overridden by the Council so he can give a lesson in local history, since Founders’ Day is COMING UP.

Bonnie comes in slightly late, and I guess she’s been gone? There’s some sort of weird look game going on between her, Elena, and Stefan as she sits down, but I can’t parse that, come on. Give an autist a fuckin break!!!

Anna comes by Damon’s to chat on behalf of Pearl. They’re sorry about the other vamps going after Stefan, and Pearl is dealing with trying to stop them from couping her. Damon says they should have known better, what did they think those vampires would be like? And also, stop stealing from the blood banks! We’re gonna get in trouble!

But Anna says she hasn’t been to the blood bank in… a while (like their concepts of time have any meaning in this world), and the other vamps have cleared out. It’s just her and Pearl. And the gears start turning in Damon’s head, so he should have figured out that Stefan’s drinking blood in about ten minutes. Thank god for Damon.

Elena catches Bonnie after school. She tried to talk to her after class, but Bonnie booked it, apparently. I think she has a haircut? She’s pretty short with Elena, who tried to call her a bunch, and says she shouldn’t know about the raveyard spell not working, for some reason? Did they agree that Bonnie wasn’t going to be involved or something, and I’m forgetting it? Meh. Anyway, Bonnie eagerly accepts Caroline’s hug. Caroline says she missed Bonnie so much, even though they talked every day, it wasn’t the same!

Elena is confused, because she thought she and Bonn were besties, but you can’t continually put your bestie in danger, girl! I would also want to distance myself from your weirdness, though even teen me would have realized that a witch can’t just exempt herself from magical issues. Caroline tells Bonnie that Bonn has to help her choose the perfect dress for the Founders’ Court!

Elena is again confused, because apparently they signed up for this nonsense before Elena’s mom died. Over a year ago? Maybe? In any case, she was picked for the Court, but I think she says she doesn’t want to do it, because of her mom? The literal dialogue:

Caroline: “So, are you dropping out then?”

Elena: “I can’t.”

Bonnie: “Her mom is the one who wanted her to enter.”

So - Elena “can’t” be in the pageant, or “can’t” drop out? Because Caroline said “are you dropping out” and she said, “I can’t” and like - that would mean “I can’t DROP OUT” not “I can’t do the pageant”.

So Elena may or may not be in the Miss Mystic Falls contest. Good job, writers. Excellent work, as usual.

Damon is lying in wait for Stefan to get home from school. Stefan immediately denies being on blood. Damon calls him out on the lie, but Stefan is gaslighting himself super hard at this point. He won’t admit shit to you, Damon. Try again later.

Elena calls Stefan to bring him up to speed - She IS doing the pageant! She needs him to escort her. He gets off the phone, checks his bottom file cabinet drawer for blood, then heads downstairs to the hidden basement chest freezer full of bags from the hospital. Of course, Damon is also lying in wait downstairs, and calls Stefan a liar and a thief.

Stefan tries to argue he has it under control, that Damon shouldn’t care after shoving it on him all these years. Damon points out that he STOLE from a HOSPITAL. Like, y’all are rich, aren’t you? You couldn’t buy a blood bank for your own purposes? Stefan tries to dodge: “Have my actions negatively impacted you?” Yes, bitch, THE ENTIRE COUNCIL IS AFTER VAMPIRES.

Stefan doesn’t have an ounce of self-preservation in that body. Has Damon kept him alive for the last century-and-a-half?

Damon asks what Elena thinks, and Stefan says she doesn’t need to know. Damon says she absolutely does, Stefan’s been a teetotaler for basically his entire life, he won’t be able to control himself, and frankly, just being back on the real stuff presents some behavioral issues. Don’t get fed fast enough? You might just “snap”. Damon doesn’t need to worry about Stefan snapping, not now. Stefan again insists he’s fine, and Damon needs to back off. I hope Damon goes right to Elena.

Miss Mystic Falls includes an interview process. A tribunal including Mrs. Mayor and two ladies I don’t know yet. The Queen this year has the special honor of “taking center stage at the 150th Founders’ Day Gala.”

Caroline sounds great, a lot of volunteer work. Elena is making apologies: she hasn’t been as involved this year. Some other girl thinks she could win two years in a row, and I - I’m so tired of time. Some other girl says it’s an honor to be nominated, since she’s not from a founding family. They’re all intercut with each other, which is a nice little editing trick. Good way to tell the story. Elena finishes up by talking about how important this would have been to her mother. Dead mom, gonna be hard to beat, Caro, but I’m rooting for you. Or maybe the girl who said that just because she got a DUI and had to do community service, didn’t mean she wasn’t committed. That’s ballsy.

Uncle John is annoyed that Damon hasn’t been taking his calls. Damon says that’s a hint, John definitely didn’t need to stop by! I’ll spare you the banter. What it comes down to is that the OG John Gilbert invented something that one of the raveyard vamps stole. He won’t say what, but since the raveyard vamps didn’t die, the invention is now retrievable. So he wants to hunt vampires for the Council - that is, he wants to find the particular vampire who stole from his family and serve that one up to the Council, once he gets the invention back for himself and for Isobel.

If Damon wants his secrets kept, he’ll help John. Damon asks how he can know who has some mystery item, and John says the guy who took it hung out with Pearl, and Damon tells John to GTFO. He was only entertaining any of this because he thought John or Isobel would lead him to Katharine, but no. Katharine and Pearl were close, but John seems not to know that? Katharine probably has his device, whatever it is. John threatens to tell the Council that Damon is a vampire. Damon tells him to go ahead: he’ll kill the Council, sever John’s hand, take his ring, and kill him, too. Don’t threaten Damon with a good time.

The Misses Mystic Falls are learning to dance some sort of non-touching minuet to a Strauss waltz? Ok, sure. Caroline brought Bonnie to fill in for Matt, even though this is the end of the rehearsal? Ok, sure. Bonnie’s mad at everyone, including Caroline, but she’s nicer to Caro. Elena pulls her aside and asks WTF is going on, so at least I’m not alone in this. Oh, she thinks Gram died for nothing, because the raveyard vamps are out, and she blames Stefan. And Damon, but mostly Stefan. She doesn’t want to put Elena in the middle, but she has to step back, because Elena’s involved with them.

Stefan eavesdrops, obviously, and then heads out to the parking lot, where some kid has a skinned and bleeding knee. Stefan gets fixated, Alaric comes up to him, Stefan almost chokes him out because BLOOD, apparently. Ok, sure.

Alaric shows up at Elena’s, because he’s driving them. Where? I mean, I assume to the ball (this is the ball, right, not the festival or the bonfire or the party or the dance or the commemorative bowling tournament or something?), but no one ever says, and god only knows what day or time of day this is. Anyway, John’s annoyed because he thought he was driving, but Jenna’s all, “Nope, bitch, you can drag Jeremy’s ass if he feels like showing up this episode,” and she and Elena go with Ric.

Anna shows up to the ball, in bright fucking sunlight. Her hair is terrible, all slugs, like you don’t own a comb, girl? Damon tells her about John and the invention, and she says she can ask her mom, but why should she bother, Damon doesn’t give a shit about them. He tells her that John Gilbert is hunting vamps, and Damon would much rather she stay in town than John. So think about it.

Jenna and Elena reminisce about Elena’s mom while doing Elena’s hair.

Jeremy complains to John that there’s a WHOLE MONTH of Founders’ Day activities that he has to show up for.

Jeremy’s hair looks dyed darker than it was. Weird. They chat about the OG John’s journal, and John 2 tells Jeremy there’s more. Jeremy’s looking for vampire confirmation, but John won’t give it. Jeremy sees Anna and follows her into the house, excusing himself.

Elena goes to get dressed and Damon pops into the dressing room. He tells her about Stefan’s new habit and warns her that with the Council breathing down everyone’s necks, Stefan cannot be unpredictable. He doesn’t have any sort of solution for this problem, at least not yet, but telling Elena was the right way to go.

Anna doesn’t want to talk to Jeremy. She yells at him for using her to become a vamp for someone else, so he yells back at her for using him to feed her mom. She asks how he knows that, and he says he knows “everything.”

Stefan comes into the dressing room just as Elena says she fed Stefan in the first place. He asks WTF is going on, and Damon says he’s filling Elena in, then leaves so they can fight. He was gonna tell her! He’s fine! Nothing is wrong! If Elena wasn’t such a bitch about it, he totes would have told her! It’s her fault he kept a secret! Not the blood! HE’S FINE!

Mrs. Mayor comes to get Elena for the “lineup”, and sends Stefan downstairs. He goes, but as soon as he gets alone in a room, he freaks out and vamps out and the “not from a founding family” girl - who had to go outside for a panic attack and also isn’t dressed - walks in on him. Chomp? Have to wait out the commercial to see!

We are 25 minutes in! The ball is in full swing, and our Founders’ Court is assembling down the grand staircase. Such flair! Such elegance! Such…

Amber is the maybe-chompee, and Mrs. Mayor is looking for her as the girls start down the stairs. Caro and Elena are last, of course. Stefan isn’t downstairs, because he’s gone rogue, but neither is Matt - he couldn’t get off work. Poor Caro.

Elena says she’s dropping out, she has to go find Stefan, she isn’t this person anymore. Caroline says she had her chance to drop out, and even though Caroline has no chance to beat her, Elena has to do the contest. For her mom. Aw. Caroline’s so sweet.

Anna and Jeremy are finally confessing some feelings. Jeremy knows now that Vicki wanted to hurt him, and he hates remembering her that way, but obviously it wasn’t a relationship at the end. Anna says that she was just going to use him to get to her mom, but she knows him now, she won’t let anything happen to him.

Uncle John hears every word of this.

Stefan has taken Amber to the parking lot. He mojos her and then starts just spewing words all over her - about Elena knowing and being on “the human stuff”. She says he looks sad; he screams that he’s hungry, not sad!

Elena comes down the stairs and is announced to be escorted by Stefan, who of course is nowhere to be seen, so Damon steps in. Aw. Damon’s sweet, too, in his own way. And the chemistry in this dance is off the charts (all on Damon’s side, Elena has as much charisma as a wet toothpick). Ooh, I hope she cheats on Stefan with Damon. I love a good soap opera triangle storyline!

In the parking lot, Stefan is still freaking out. Again, this is very boring. It’s the same stupid shit we’ve seen from most of the vampires on television at this point. I did perk up when he said that feeding doesn’t have to be messy, though! “You don’t have to waste a drop.” That’s what I’ve been saying for years!!!

Amber is still in some sort of mojo-daze fugue state, and she asks why he isn’t killing her if he wants to. He says that if he gives in that far, there won’t be any going back. And also, YOU CAN’T KILL A GIRL EVERYONE IS LOOKING FOR IN THE PARKING LOT OF THE PLACE THEY’RE LOOKING.

But he chomps her anyway.

CAROLINE WINS!!!!!!!

Sheriff and John are checking out the room where Stefan grabbed Amber - he broke a mirror, there’s blood, Sheriff calls for Damon.

In the parking lot, it’s suddenly nighttime - like, full dark - and Stefan has disengaged from the chomp and asks Amber why she isn’t afraid. Because he told her not to be, duh. So he tells her to be afraid, and to run, so he won’t eat her, even though he chases her.

Damon catches Elena up to speed on what he knows: blood on the mirror, Amber missing. Bonnie overhears. Damon and Elena go to find Stefan and Damon follows.

Stefan catches up to Amber for just long enough to get covered in blood before the others find him. Damon starts to fight him, Elena pleads, but Bonnie does something to his brain. He’s doubled over, ears ringing for what seems an eternity and then - shame, guilt, running away. Still covered in blood.

Sheriff finds them all. The official story is that Elena and Bonnie found Amber, then called Damon, then Damon called Sheriff. She sends Bonn and Elena away, then makes sure with Damon that the girls “didn’t see the bite mark”. Damn, errybody lyin’ up in here. Seems like it would be easier on everyone to just… tell their kids what the family business is?

Elena wants Bonnie to stop and talk to her about what happened. Bonnie refuses. She tells Elena that she chooses when and where she’ll involve herself in this vampire business, but she owes nothing to Elena, and she doesn’t have to ever talk about it. IF she ever decides to, she knows where to find Elena.

The ball is winding down. John asks Jenna who Anna is, and Jenna tells him her mother’s name is Pearl and he’s preventing them from buying (back) his building. John’s eyebrows make a break for the ISS, and he says he already knows all about them.

Alaric runs into Elena on the front steps; he immediately asks what’s wrong, and she shrugs.

Damon returns home to Anna and Pearl on his doorstep, offering a truce of sorts. Pearl admits she took the invention from OG John, and hands something to Damon. He asks what it is - it looks like a pocket watch - and she talks about the compass, which was a watch. But that's not what she stole. She has no idea what she took, but it’s not a watch and it’s not the compass, which she was trying to steal. She wants him to consider that an apology.

Elena shows up in Stefan’s room to fight about blood.

She insists it “wasn’t him” and he says it is, yadda yadda, yelling and tears, and then SHE TRANQS HIM.

Damon comes up the stairs and asks if she really wants to do this, and she says yes. So they put Stefan in chains in the dungeon! Damon says it might not work, but Elena says it has to - and she stays downstairs with Stefan, just out of reach. And Damon stays with her.

OMG. Y’all. What a rollercoaster of an episode! SO! MUCH! HAPPENING! An unbelievable amount of plot movement, but with only 3 more in the season, I guess they didn’t have any more time to dilly dally in plotless meadows of bad dialogue. See you next week!

[lowstakesdilemma]

Revenge comes for all of us in the end.

Hi, I hope You're having a tremendous day!

It's been a few weeks since my first post. My excuse: there were some technical difficulties with scanning my drawing. But You aren't here to hear my excuses, but instead to hear his story.

If You are interested in what I've been up to, I'll be happy to share that I'm working on some stuff. As always, the struggle of getting together for an rpg session is frustrating, and no one I know would be willing to make a D&D session anyway, so these characters aren't going anywhere for the time being. In the meantime, I'm trying not to get kicked out of college, and writing a book for NaNoWriMo, although my pace is way to slow to actually complete it within the time frame, so my progress on that is quite slow.

Today, the hero (?) up for debate is Kaller, a Reborn Barbarian/Fighter using the Unarmed Fighting Style, based on the great piece REVIVED by Derivakat. As a preface, let me tell You my stance on the whole SMP thing (bcs the song is about it). I don't really care for it. I'm not a fan, but like with most things, I don't dislike it. I only discovered that the song is based on it when I went to genius.com to check the lyrics five minutes ago, and it certainly doesn't change the fact that the song is an absolute banger.

Backstory

Upon meeting Kaller, most people would fall into one of two groups. Either they feared the savage being before them, kind of like a lone wanderer sneaking around to avoid the attention of a wolf they saw, or they called out his barbaric behavior and lack of manners. While he would ignore the majority of both, on some occasions, the latter ones would use the common phrase "Go to hell". These people are now having trouble speaking any words at all.

The first thing he remembers is a cell. Chains wrapped coldly around his arms and legs, the unbearable heat filling the air and forcing itself into his lungs, the laughter of imps. He didn't know who he was, or what did he do to deserve this. He knew only two things: his name is Kaller, and he has died. These, along with the demons torturing him daily, were the only certain elements of his life.

This lasted 13 and a half years, but each of those days felt the same to him. It all blurred together. Sometimes, they would drag him out of the cell and have him fight, either other humanoids or hellish beasts. That's how he found out another thing about himself: he must've been a demonslayer of some sort when he was alive, because he was able to manifest holy energy around his fists.

Finally, after all that time, an expedition came. On his last day in hell, he rejoiced when he heard the imps screaming in terror, running in fear, and dying in agony. Someone came. A group of paladins, to be precise. They went there as part of a confidential mission by their church, and were just as surprised as him to find that he was the only prisoner. Strange.

They escorted Kaller up to the material plane, and the team captain, Boxxon, said that there were high chances of him hearing from his saviours again. They left him a bit of money and were off to report their findings.

As Kaller tried to integrate with normal people, there was a little voice in his head, whispering to him what's right and what isn't. It turns out, most of what was happening was not right. The rich lords extorting the innocent was not. The constant conspiring and thieves were not. He wanted to live a peaceful life, but he felt like vomiting each time he witnessed an unhonourable act. And he spoke out against it, causing his enemies to multiply.

But it wasn't all bad. There were some that stood by him, and reminded him of the templars that rescued him from hell. When he met such people, it always involved a fight and the beginning of an unbreakable friendship.

Kaller always had a gut feeling that wherever he went, misfortune struck. Even with his standoffish attitude, there shouldn't have been so many attempts to take his life. Soon, the demons started coming, and it finally clicked into place. They wanted to cage him again. And he wanted to find out why.

Mechanics

Kaller is a Reborn simply for flavor, and this is one of those times were the most defining parts of him will be his subclasses. I'd personally go with a mix of Battlemaster and Zealot, picking up the Tavern Brawler feat along the way (if your DM agrees to change it into the BG3 version, even better). Of course, we're taking the Unarmed Fighting FS at level 2, and we're sort of pretending to be a STR-based monk. The BM maneouvres are our special moves - bonus points if you only use them while wielding an improvised weapon.

For stats, I'd go with 15(17) STR, 13(14) DEX, 14 CON, 8 INT, 12 WIS, 10 CHA. We need to invest in STR if we want to be a useful fighter, but You may opt to forsake DEX and just sport a full plate, which is fine, but I just think that the Unarmored Defense barbarians get is way to underused, and this is the perfect character to use it on. Similarly, depending on Your interpretation of the character, You may switch INT and CHA around, but I reckon Kaller is more uneducated (on the account of being resurrected) than rude. I wouldn't dump WIS though, he's more perceptive than Your average Joe.

As a character

Possible plot hooks for the DM:

Sir Boxxon arrives with the letter from his church, asking for help with an urgent matter

A devil appears, proposing a deal: You do something for me, I'll tell you about your past life

The voice in your head grows louder, and wants you to go to your... family? Are they still alive?

An unjust lord has set a bounty on your head to prevent you from coming to his land. What a weird invitation

You're having weird dreams about your prison, and an ominous feeling, enticing you to go back to the place it all began

As an NPC

Possible quests to give:

There is an execution in the town the party's staying at. Kaller, chained up and dragged to the executioner, shouts insults at the crowd and their silence, while calling out the lord for his deeds.

When the party's in a tavern, a brawl starts up. All of the participants seem to have a problem with taking one guy, who's fighting with just a beer mug.

A person has gone on a rampage in a nearby village, screaming about how everyone is a devil and killing civilians. Contain the madman, or stop him for good?

Loot:

Simplicity has a nice charm to it, so I'd give him Bracers of Defense and maybe brass knuckles with a mini-smite attached to them?

The song relevance (imho)

Like I said at the beginning, I had no idea that this song was already telling a character's story. This means that my story is based on another story, which makes all of it kind of like a polaroid picture of a polaroid picture, but the picture of the picture is very distorted and You don't even see a picture in that picture.

REVIVED is much more upbeat than our previous entry. It's aggressive, confident, even arrogant at times, pointing to a character with a lot of "I'm always right" moments in their life. Another thing that it brings to mind is the topic of resurrections, and how they redefine You. This is purely hypothetical if we're talking actual resurrections here, but becomes much more practical when we define resurrection as a change of paradigm, like in the phrase "They're like a whole new person".

I'm pretty sure that everyone has at least one such moment, where you draw the line between the old you (who is now effectively dead) amd the new you, who, despite being the same person, is another person. The ship of Theseus and all that.

Alright, getting a bit off-topic, and, what's worse, philosophical. Ugh.

Like always, feel free to use this in your games!

May Your calendar align with your friends'!