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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

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North To The Future [Chapter 5: Sabotage]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: With the completion of Chapter 5, we are officially 1/3 of the way done with this fic series! In my opinion, things start to get really interesting in Chapter 6 so I am sooooo excited to have reached this little milestone. Thank you so so so much for reading and for your enthusiasm, questions, rants, analyses, theories, memes, and general emotional investment in NTTF. I go back to re-read your comments/tags ALL the time and they help keep me motivated to get new chapters out asap. 🥰💜

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, veterinary medicine, discussions of sex, questionable decisions, Kimmie-related chaos, Trent flexing his athletic skills.

Word count: 5.6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @meadowofsinfulthoughts @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @b1gb3anz @hinata7346 @poohxlove @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @travelingmypassion @graykageyama @skythighs @lauraneedstochill @darlingimafangirl @charenlie @thewew @eddies-bat-tattoos @minttea07

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

It’s November 29th, the Monday after Thanksgiving. It’s also your lunch hour.

You yank open the glass front door of Caribou Crossings, the souvenir shop where Heather works. It’s mostly abandoned now that tourist season has ended, and the unloved relics stare at you with cold, oddly sentient eyes: the owls carved out of cedar wood, bears carved out of jade, Russian dolls, miniature totem poles, plushie salmons. You climb over the counter and sit on the floor behind the cash register, your back pressed to the wall and your arms linked around your knees. Heather is breaking open rolls of coins to restock the register, probably unnecessarily; you are the only two people in the store.

She asks, wrestling to get quarters out of a particularly stubborn wrapper: “How’s it going?”

“Not great.”

“Have you fucked British Kurt Cobain yet?”

“We’re not speaking.”

She puts down the roll of quarters and looks at you. “What happened?”

You shrug, trying to act casual, trying to not let your voice crack. You don’t think there’s any threat of tears; you’ve cried so much in the past four days that you seem to be out of them. Your eyes are perpetually pinkish, puffy, exhausted. Despite your herculean efforts to remain hydrated, you have a constant low-grade tension headache that throbs like a bruise, misery trapped beneath the skin like blue-violet blood. “It’s a long story. He came over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Okay.” Heather is perplexed. “And then he, what, drunkenly dropped the turkey on the floor? Tried to hook up with your mom? Offered to show you his collection of murder supplies?”

You smile wearily. “No. I told him that he had to get sober. And he freaked out, he was yelling, he was saying I don’t have any right to try to control him because he’s not mine and never will be. He said I was trying to use him to bail myself out of my spineless, unfulfilling life.”

She scoffs. “Well that’s not true.” Then she observes your face. “Is it…?”

You shrug again, feeling like you’re back in high school, petulant and powerless. “There are a lot of things I want to experience, a lot of places I want to go. But I haven’t done anything yet. Because I can’t tell my parents that I don’t want to stay in Juneau forever and run the vet clinic.”

This must shock Heather, but she doesn’t show it. “I can’t imagine that they would want you to stay if it made you unhappy.”

“No, they wouldn’t try to stop me. But it would break their hearts.”

There is a long, uneasy silence. At last, Heather says: “I think you should come to Ursa Minor tonight.”

“I don’t want to see Aegon.”

“I mean, Dale would probably kick him out if we asked.”

“No!” you shout, too quickly. If he doesn’t have his preferred place to drink his demons away, he might leave Juneau long before the six month deadline.

Heather raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to see him or do you not want to see him?”

You glower at the wall strewn with large, framed photographs of the Northern Lights. “I want him to apologize.”

“I have many talents, but I can’t make that happen for you,” she says. “Look, is it possible that Aegon will be at Ursa Minor? Yeah, totally. But other people are going to be there too. Me, and Joyce, and Kimmie, and Trent and all his dimwitted muscley friends…there are going to be people who care about you. There are going to be people who can help you through this. We can comfort you. We can distract you. We can curb stomp that Greek boy in the parking lot if he doesn’t behave himself. There are a lot of options.”

Lyrics from The Distance, unexpected and unwelcome, spin around in your mind like a vinyl record: She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade. “I’ll think about it.”

“Can I interest you in a complementary Juneau-themed trinket? Glacial mud mask? Moose nuggets? Birch syrup? A slightly sinister-looking stuffed salmon?”

“No. I’m good.”

Heather asks with a straight face: “Do you want me to kill him?”

You laugh, your first real laugh since Thanksgiving. “No, thank you very much, but no.”

“Seriously. I could make it look like the Ice Fisher did it. No one would ever know.”

You gaze up at her from where you sit on the floor. “I love you.”

“I know, bitch.” Heather grins. “Wear something slutty this time.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve spent a lot of time in your bedroom since Thanksgiving; you don’t want your parents to see you upset. They know something, of course, but they don’t interrogate you. They don’t intrude. They probably assume that you’ve broken up with Aegon—not that we were ever dating to begin with, you think sullenly—and, furthermore, that this is a painful yet indisputably wise course of action. It is a productive sort of pain, a necessary pain; it is like the deep maroon ache of a healing bone. It hurts less now than it would if you had stayed with him, married him, had children with him, attempted to build a life with him like a sandcastle razed again and again at high tide. It hurts less than if you had let yourself fall in love with him.

Oh, but didn’t I?

Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1867, just two years after the American Civil War ended, and was soon widely regarded by the still-recovering nation as a hopelessly remote and burdensome error. This impression was reversed only by the discovery of gold and the subsequent mass migration of miners to the territory beginning in the 1890s. After the booming gold industry came fishing and logging and oil and military bases, but gold was Alaska’s first saving grace. This is what you are thinking as you pencil on your black eyeliner, dust your eyelids with sheer gold glitter, paint your lips a vivid, glossy crimson. You stare at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, surrounded by photographs of your family and your friends, high school and college and vet school. There’s one image that doesn’t quite belong. It’s a cutout from one of those infinite travel magazines, a Ford Mustang convertible soaring down the Pacific Coast Highway in Southern California. The man behind the wheel—tan, beaming, carefree—is wearing sunglasses and a neon green tank top. The convertible is bright red; it is nearly the same shade as your lips.

You slip into a dress you haven’t worn in years: black, short, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Ever-practical, you opt for black boots instead of heels. When you arrive at Ursa Minor, Heather is wearing a sequined hot pink tube top and white leather pants. Joyce is wearing—to Heather’s abject horror—overalls, a rainbow striped T-shirt, and a massive mustard yellow scarf that nearly swallows her into oblivion. By a pure and unfortunate coincidence, you and Aegon match. He is sitting at the bar in all black: black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, black combat boots, black sleepless shadows under both of his eyes, a black mood that sweats out of his pores like a fever. Randomly, you remember the gold chain necklace he was wearing on Thanksgiving. It didn’t look fake, and it didn’t look cheap. To your knowledge, it is the only thing of significant value that he owns. It is a peculiar luxury for him to possess.

So what? Maybe he stole it. Maybe he traded drugs for it. Maybe he got it off a corpse that he strangled and then sank into cold, silent darkness beneath an ice-covered lake.

But no, you don’t believe that. You never did, and you still don’t.

Heather slurps down her Sex On The Beach. “Is this your revenge dress? Are you invoking the spirit of Princess Diana in this fine establishment tonight?”

You gaze miserably at Aegon. He is peering down into the caramel-colored bubbles of his rum and Coke. The stereo is playing Shania Twain’s Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under? “He told me he’s an awful person. That’s the worst part. Like he told me over and over again exactly what to expect and I didn’t believe him, because I was just…just…I don’t know.” Infatuated. In love. Blind. Naïve. Hopeful. “Stupid, I guess.”

“I hate men.” Heather glances to the bar. “Except Dale, he’s okay.”

“The fictional ones aren’t all bad,” Joyce says, flipping a page in her newest fantasy novel. This one has a pirate on the front, his billowing white shirt mostly unbuttoned and his long hair flowing in the wind like a hero’s cape.

“I’ve had a horrendous fucking day,” you moan. “There’s the Aegon thing, there’s the I’m never going to get out of Alaska thing, there’s the I’m going to die alone thing, and then on top of all that, I had to euthanize Ms. Ruland’s cat right before we closed.”

“Sylvester Stallone?!” Heather cries. “Sylvester died? That black and white homicidal little maniac? With the super long whiskers? Jesus, that’s tragic. I’m sorry.”

“In all fairness, he was like a gazillion years old. He probably remembered when dinosaurs roamed America. But it was still awful. Ms. Ruland was a mess. I felt totally unprepared, totally useless. I’d practiced in vet school, of course, but I’d never euthanized an animal I knew before. It was horrible trying to comfort Ms. Ruland. It was horrible seeing someone walk into the clinic with someone they loved and then walk out alone.”

Heather and Joyce nod with sad, sympathetic eyes, wanting to help but not knowing what else to say. You gulp down your pineapple-flavored Bacardi Breezer. Aegon must have complained about the Shania Twain music; Dale switches out the CD and the opening notes of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys rockets out of the stereo.

Kimmie throws open the front door and blusters into Ursa Minor, shaking the snowflakes out of her hair and wearing a sleek, skin-tight, metallic silver dress and matching platform heels. She looks like a disco ball; she looks like a mirror. She canters to the bar like a racehorse and orders herself a Miller Lite. She says something to Aegon. He mumbles back, still peering into his rum and Coke. She tries again. He shrugs and downs the rest of his drink. He glances at you—almost glaring, almost sad—and then orders another rum and Coke.

“Oh no,” Heather mutters. “Oh no, oh no, Kimmie, no.”

The front door opens again, and Trent and his friends spill inside in a loud, riotous swarm. They order beers at the bar—Trent fist-bumping Aegon, several of the other guys descending upon Kimmie to make bungling attempts at seduction—and then they migrate over to the pool table like a honking, brainless flock of geese. Trent breaks off to make a pit stop at your booth.

“Hi,” he says, smiling as he sips his Heineken.

“Hi,” you reply. Heather and Joyce’s eyes dart between you and Trent.

He points to the spot beside you, which is presently vacant. “Do you mind if I hang out for a while?”

“I think you’ll regret it. I am currently extremely depressed and boring.”

To your surprise, Trent doesn’t act like a dumbass. His voice goes gentle. His face collapses into soft, attentive pity. “What’s there to be depressed about?”

Well, you see, I accidentally fell in love with your maybe-murderer alcoholic homeless friend and in a completely unforeseeable turn of events he ruined my life. “I had to euthanize a cat today.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Trent says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my job. I should get over it.”

“No, seriously, I’m sorry.” Trent tosses his hair off his forehead in his patented horse-like maneuver, and then his gaze comes back to you. “Your job is to help animals, so I get that not being able to fix one would be really tough. But I know you’re still great at your job. I know you did everything you could.”

You stare up at Trent. Heather stares up at Trent. Joyce, having completely forgotten about her fantasy novel (a rare occurrence), stares up at Trent. Trent swallows a mouthful of Heineken; stray beads of it drip down his full lips and stubbled chin.

I couldn’t fix the cat. I couldn’t fix Aegon. I can’t fix myself.

“You can hang out if you want to,” you tell Trent, scooting over to give him space. He grins and slides into the booth, tall and broad-shouldered and tossing his hair around again, looking like goddamn Seabiscuit. You steal a glimpse of the bar. Aegon’s jaw has fallen open; he’s gaping at you with scandalized disbelief, with something like horror. You move a little closer to Trent. And Aegon, at last, turns his attention to the dramatic, irritating, captivating Kimberly Barbieri.

“So, Trent,” Heather begins slowly, apprehensively, then picks up steam. Beside her, Joyce picks up her book. “How is the salmon genocide business going?”

As you half-listen to Trent talk about fishing, which somehow—as all topics seem to do with him—leads back to football and his high school glory days, you drink your Bacardi Breezer and watch Aegon with sharp, narrowed eyes. He has relocated to the barstool next to Kimmie. He appears to be asking her questions—tentative, stilted questions—and she replies with animated laughter and calculated little touches: her fingertips grazing his wrist, her palm briefly pressed to his shoulder. You hate the way Aegon talks with his hands, those gestures which had been becoming so familiar to you. They put an ache in your chest like a nest of barbed wire.

“Bro!” one of Trent’s friends is calling from the pool table. Others are waving encouragingly. “Bro, come play! Come play! Broooooo!”

“Looks like you’re being summoned,” Heather says.

“Oh, wow, I guess so.” Trent turns to you, nervous. “Do you…uh…would you…maybe…like to join me?”

“What, playing pool?”

“Yeah.”

You try to consider this in earnest; your mind is so tangled up in Kimmie and Aegon and everything that’s transpired over the past week that the words barely sound like English. Playing. Pool. With Trent. “I don’t think I know how.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, quite willingly.

“Okay, maybe. Give me a few minutes, I need another drink first.”

“Want me to grab a Bacardi Breezer for you?”

“Thanks, but I’ll do it. I haven’t decided which flavor I want next yet.”

“Cool,” Trent says. He slips out of the booth and gives you one final, mock-stern, smiling warning. “Remember, I’m going to teach you how to play. Meet me at the pool table. Don’t forget. Don’t disappear.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. He departs. You say to Heather: “I probably won’t be there.”

“Why not?” Heather asks. “You’re hot. You’ll be even hotter when you’re bent over a pool table lining up your shots. The Greek boy is already sad, but I want to see him devastated.”

“I don’t think I have that power.”

Heather smirks and wiggles her slender eyebrows. “I disagree.”

Across Ursa Minor, Kimmie leaps off her barstool and leaves Aegon to guzzle his rum and Coke in peace. She approaches your booth sheepishly, like a dog that knows he’s chewed a considerable hole in his owner’s favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. “So,” Kimmie says to you, nervously kneading her glass bottle of Miller Lite. She’s so fucking cool, you think mournfully. Cool girls drink beer, cool girls are lighthearted and fun, cool girls don’t take guys too seriously, cool girls never ask about the future. “You and Aegon.”

You drink the last of your Bacardi Breezer moodily. “What about us?”

“You aren’t…like…together, are you?”

“No. No way. I’d rather date O.J. Simpson.”

“Well…” Heather begins, and you kick her under the table. Bitch! she mouths, rubbing her shin.

“Okay,” Kimmie sighs in relief, a smile breaking across her face. The Christmas lights reflect off her silver dress; she glows, she radiates. “Good. I was hoping he wasn’t off-limits, but I wanted to check with you first. You know, in accordance with Girl Code.”

“How courteous,” you note.

Kimmie marvels dreamily: “He looked so freaking good strumming that guitar.”

“Um, Kimmie…” Heather begins again. You glare at her ferociously. Heather pivots. “He’s probably the Ice Fisher, so you should keep your distance.”

Kimmie laughs. “Aegon? The Ice Fisher?! I don’t think so. You have to be sober to meticulously kidnap and murder people. Besides, from what I’ve heard he’s slept his way through like half the souvenir shop cashiers, and none of them ended up dead.”

You stare down at the table despondently. Heather, floundering, puts her fist through the figurative In Case Of Emergency Break Glass box. “He has syphilis.”

Kimmie gasps. “Really?!”

Heather deflates. “No. Well, actually, I don’t know. Maybe. It’s certainly possible. We should assume the worst.”

Kimmie, for once fully in on the joke, winks. “I’ll let you know once I’ve investigated.” She strolls back to the bar in her short mirrorball dress, shimmering and lithe like a snake’s skin.

“To be clear,” Heather tells you. “I was not in the half of the souvenir shop cashiers that Aegon boned.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?! Why didn’t you tell her that…that…?!”

“That what?” you snap. “She asked if we’re together. We’re not. We never were. He made that crystal clear. And if he’s not going to get sober, I’m not going to get involved with someone like that.” Someone like Jesse. Someone like the man my mom still carries scars and bruises from, not in the flesh but in the soul.

“But…but…” Heather frowns at you with pained, condoling eyes. “You…you love him. Don’t you? You look like you love him. You look…and I mean this in the most compassionate way possible…you look fucking terrible. You look like someone died, and I’m not talking about Sylvester Stallone the geriatric cat. Joyce?”

Joyce gives you an evaluative glance. “Yeah, you look terrible.”

At the bar, Kimmie is leaning all over Aegon and giggling about a story he’s telling. His hands move in dramatic, expressive gestures. He is, for the first time tonight, smiling. There’s a jolt like knuckles jabbed beneath your ribs. There’s a profound, inky despair. Kimmie grabs Aegon’s hand—he has callouses on his fingertips, you think randomly—and leads him over to the pool table. As soon as they have vacated the area, Heather drags you to the bar.

“Dale?” she says. “My good bitch needs a Bacardi Breezer. Maybe two Bacardi Breezers. Maybe three. I think I’ll be driving her home tonight.” She turns to you. “What flavors do you want?”

“Apple,” you reply morosely.

“Okay, one apple, what about the rest?”

“All apple.”

“Goddamn, you really are fucked up about this. Dale, three apple Bacardi Breezers, please.”

He lines them up on the counter. Heather sits with you as you drink them one after the other, gradually feeling warm again, feeling a little lighter. When you peek back at the booth, Rob has appeared there and is discussing—politely this time—the plot of Joyce’s fantasy novel with her. She looks almost vaguely interested in his existence.

“Hey Dale,” Heather prompts. “What’s the secret to everlasting love?”

Dale chuckles huskily and runs a hand over his thick, wiry beard. “You’re asking the wrong person. My wife ran off with a cruise ship singer, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Heather says apologetically. That was around six months ago, at the start of tourist season; the guy was an Elvis impersonator. “My bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m better off, I think. Now I don’t have to pretend to like her soap operas anymore. Or her tuna casserole.” He guffaws and ambles away to serve a pair of middle-aged locals seated at the other end of the bar.

When you’ve finished your last Bacardi Breezer, Heather slaps your shoulder encouragingly. “Alright, you ready?”

“Yup,” you say, swaying a little as you hop off the barstool. You stumble and bump into Heather, laughing. She steadies you with a massive grin. She’s delighted; she’s relieved.

“Good. Now get your ass over to the pool table and do your best impression of Demi Moore in Striptease.”

You have no intention of doing that. But you do—with Heather’s stabilizing grip on your waist—make your way to the pool table. There is a crowd pulsing around it: Trent, Trent’s assorted jock friends, Aegon, Kimmie. Aegon is standing in the background and nursing his—fourth? fifth? tenth?—rum and Coke. His face is vague and his eyes groggy. Still, he is beautiful. He’s so beautiful you almost blurt it out before stopping yourself. Kimmie is lining up a shot to break the balls out of their triangular configuration. Her silver hoop earrings glint under the Christmas lights. She is covered in male gazes like the sheen of ice on a lake. The white cue ball collides with the pyramid-shaped conglomeration; the balls go flying in every direction. The solid green ball—number 6—disappears into a pocket.

“Booyah!” Kimmie cheers. There are claps and whistles. Aegon just stares blankly, gnawing on his lower lip, that chronically disobedient lock of hair resting on his cheek.

“You’re majorly talented,” Trent’s friend Gary swoons. Kimmie bats her eyelashes at him and then checks to see if Aegon noticed. He didn’t. Kimmie, flustered but trying to hide it, takes another turn but doesn’t manage to sink a single ball.

“Hey!” Trent welcomes you warmly. He slings an arm across your shoulders, which ordinarily you would shy away from. Now, you lean into him, your body melding with his, your muscles loose and sinuous. Aegon does notice this. His eyes are a dark, dangerous blue: riptides, maelstroms, trenches miles deep. Good, you think. Maybe I can get him jealous enough to reconsider. Maybe I can make him want to change. “Want to shoot for me? I’ll show you how.”

You smile up at Trent. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He passes you a cue stick with large, rugged hands. “So you’ll need one of these…and then you have to chalk it…” He presses a tiny blue cube into your palm. You rub chalk onto the tip of the cue stick, feeling ridiculous.

“And what’s the purpose of this part? Superstition? To give me false confidence?”

Trent chuckles. “To help the stick get better contact with the cue ball.”

“So you’re an expert, huh?”

“I am athletically gifted.”

“Does pool count as a sport? I’m skeptical.”

“Pay attention,” he teases, flipping his hair out of his face. Seabiscuit strikes again. “Now Kimmie sunk a solid ball, so the solids are all hers. Ours are the striped ones. If we can sink all the striped ones before Kimmie sinks all the solid ones, we win. And you don’t want to sink the black 8 ball until all our balls are already gone. That’s the very last step.”

“Sink striped balls. Don’t sink solid balls or the 8 ball. Okay. Got it.” You take aim, your sights set on the striped blue ball, number 10. This is somewhat difficult; thanks to your plentiful Bacardi Breezers, the pool table feels like it’s listing like a ship. The tapered shaft of the stick is balanced awkwardly on the back of your hand. “Am I doing this right…?”

“Here,” Trent says, and then he gets to work repositioning you. He touches you without asking, which you don’t object to under the circumstances; Aegon’s face is flushing a gory, wrathful red. Trent spreads your fingers farther apart, adjusts the angle of your elbow, pushes you between the shoulder blades to lean a bit lower over the pool table. The hem of your black dress creeps up your bare thighs, fluttering like a whisper. Aegon aggressively chugs the rest of his rum and Coke, the ice cubes clanging in the glass.

You take your shot, and the white cue ball whizzes across the pool table. It ploughs into the number 10 ball and sends it down into the abyss-like pocket closest to where Aegon stands.

“Yes!” Trent roars. He swoops in, picks you up with startling ease, whirls you around once before setting your unsteady feet back down on the floor and accepting thunderous back-slapping from his hoard of friends.

“Wow,” Heather murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Ugh, you whore!” Kimmie jeers, but she’s clapping and giggling too. She’s still the main character tonight, and she always will be, and she knows this like she knows the lines in her own palms. She’s just that kind of girl.

“Another round, another round!” Trent’s friends are chanting, and then they stampede together off to the bar to procure more beer. Kimmie, tottering in her silvery platform heels, moves to join them.

Abruptly, Aegon catches Kimmie’s forearm and pulls her to him. He whispers in her ear; her eyes go wide, her breath hitches, her glossy lips split into an exhilarated smile. And then they dash out of Ursa Minor together, stopping just long enough to grab their parkas off the coatrack by the door. They’re gone. They’re both gone.

You sputter to Heather: “What…? How…? No, they can’t! They can’t—!”

“What do you want me to do?!” she hisses back. “Tackle them before they can make it off the premises? Tie Kimmie to a chair? Force her to take a vow of celibacy? You didn’t tell her that he was off-limits when you had the chance. This is the consequence that we all have to live with.”

“Oh my god.” The room is spiraling around you. You feel nauseous; you feel ice cold. He wasn’t supposed to leave with her. He wasn’t supposed to…

“Uh, are you okay?” Heather asks.

“No,” you choke out. Aegon and Kimmie! Aegon and Kimmie!!! “I have to get out of here.”

“Well you can’t drive home like this—”

“I know. I’ll be back.” You push by her, snatch your parka off the coatrack, dive out into the starless, frigid night.

There’s no one in the parking lot, no one on the street. You make a hard left and walk with no particular plan down towards the harbor, your shaking hands jammed into your parka pockets, tears streaming down your face. The wind whips at you, howling and old, older than the creaking wooden planks of the dock beneath your boots, older than all of humanity. You pass bobbing sailboats and fishing vessels until you come to the end of the pier, sit there cross-legged and sobbing, gaze out through blurred vision over the Gastineau Channel. It separates mainland Juneau from Douglas Island, which began—like so much of Alaska did—as a gold mining settlement. You remember the sparkling gold eyeshadow that you applied in your bedroom just a few hours ago. You don’t feel very valuable at the moment. You feel unworthy. You feel alone.

It is silent except for the waves and the wind. It is very dark; the sky is clouded, and the illuminations of Ursa Minor and the streetlights are faraway. When you hear the footsteps behind you on the pier, your stomach drops; they’re too heavy to be Heather’s or Joyce’s. But when you twist around, it is Trent that you see in the dim, shadowy light.

“Hi,” he says, raising a hand. “Heather told me that you ran away.”

“Hi. I guess I did.”

He hesitates, flips his hair, drops down beside you at the edge of the pier. “You okay?”

You sigh heavily and swipe the tears from your cheeks. “Yeah. I’m just having a really bad day.” Like an absurdly, phenomenally, exponentially bad day.

“I know what that’s like.”

I doubt it, Trent. I really do.

You sit there together in the quiet, watching the sparce light flick off the crests of waves, staring at the bright dots of houses and shops across the channel on Douglas Island. Trent puts his arm around you. You let him, and—partially for the warmth, partially for the healing sensation of being desired, being cared for—lean your head against his chest.

After a very long time, you ask dully: “What do you like about working on a salmon boat?” It’s almost enough to make you wince. It’s the kind of pedestrian, unimaginative question that Aegon would make fun of. But Trent seems to consider it carefully.

“I like being outside,” he says. “I like the fresh air, I like the scenery. And I like how working with my hands helps me get all my frustrations out. I’m a better person when I stay busy. Commercial fishing can be intense sometimes, don’t get me wrong, that’s why I’m trying to get into the Forest Service. But I like it enough.”

“What do you like about me?”

You can hear the awe in his voice. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. There was a time when I didn’t care so much about things like that. But now that I’m older and I’ve started to think about settling down…I feel like you’re the right kind of girl to do that with.”

You look up at him. He beams down at you like a full moon. And then he kisses you. He’s warm and strong and handsome in that obvious sort of way, but he’s something else, too: a little forceful, a little rough. Rough isn’t always a bad thing. But it’s like you can glimpse the silhouette of someone else beneath the surface, stars veiled by clouds, the shadows of fish under ice. He doesn’t feel anything like Aegon. He doesn’t patch the wound that Aegon left in you at all.

I wonder where Aegon is right now. I wonder what he’s doing to Kimmie.

When Trent breaks the kiss, you tell him that you have to go. He walks you back to Ursa Minor, his mighty palm on the small of your back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Heather drives you home, shellshocked. She asks, in reference to your confession about the kiss on the pier: “So…uh…do you want to talk about it, or…?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Are you and Trent…like…a thing…?!”

“I don’t know. He seems to think we are.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god.” She rubs her forehead with one hand, her astonished eyes on the indigo-black horizon.

When you get home, your dad is already asleep. Your mom is straightening up the kitchen, wiping off countertops and scrubbing dishes in the bubble-filled sink. When you ask if she needs any help, she bursts out laughing.

“You’re the one who looks like she needs help,” she says. “What happened at the bar?”

You grimace down at the floor. “A lot of things. A lot of things.”

“Nothing you feel the desire to share?”

“No. Not quite yet. Can you drive me back to pick up my Jeep tomorrow?”

“Sure. Why don’t you take a nice bubble bath and then go to bed?” she suggests. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you need a snack? I could make pancakes. Or a grilled cheese.”

“That’s really kind of you, but no thanks, Mom.” I’ve completely lost my appetite.

You sulk in a bubble bath for a while, drag yourself out, brush your teeth and hair, try to rub the night off every part of you like smoothing rough edges off a gemstone. When you wander out into the hallway, your eyes catch on the door to the attic, a rectangular outline in the white ceiling. You are mostly sober by now, and yet still the idea that strikes you seems ludicrous at first. It’s a muddled, disjointed thought. It might be a dangerous one.

If I can learn more about Jesse, maybe I can understand Aegon too.

The box of journals is up there, you know, dusty and untouched and waiting. The rope hangs invitingly. You pull the door open and unfold the ladder. You climb up into the attic, turn on the single naked lightbulb, and push aside bins of holiday decorations and family heirlooms until you find a small, unlabeled cardboard box that’s sealed shut with duct table. You peel back the tape and peek inside the flaps. The box is filled with thin leather journals in a variety of colors: olive green, navy blue, rust red, earthen brown. You gather the cardboard box into your arms and carry it down to your bedroom, slipping it discretely beneath your bed to live beside childhood stuffed animals and mounds of old yearbooks. You close up the attic and then venture downstairs to get yourself some water to stave off a blossoming hangover.

Your mom is at the kitchen sink, washing a plate with a green Scotch-Brite sponge. “Did I hear you up in the attic, ladybug? Do you need help finding something?”

“No, I got it.”

“Okay.” But she studies you, puzzled. She’s going to worry unless you explain.

“I don’t want to make you talk about it,” you say. “And I don’t want to upset you. I’ll never mention it again. But just so you know, I want to read the journals. For my own reasons. That’s why I was up in the attic. I was bringing the box down to my bedroom.”

“Oh.” She freezes, stares out the window over the sink, goes vacant. “That makes sense. That’s fine.”

“Mom, are you alright?”

“Of course, ladybug.” There is nothing outside but night. You can see her reflection in the glass like a mirror. Long, slow seconds tick by. “It seemed like he was getting better,” your mom says, her voice faint and weightless, an untethered balloon, a feather on waves. “That’s the strange part. At the very end, it seemed like he was getting better.”

Then she lets the plate sink beneath the pearlescent bubbles, wipes her hands dry on a dishtowel, and goes to bed without another word.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #hotd fanfic #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you

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blimbo-buddy · 4 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/blimbo-buddy/750558717426221056?source=share

Hey! I'm kinda obsessed with this artwork! Can you please explain your artistic process and thoughts on it and how you came to depict such a scene in as much detail as possible? I'm dying to hear bc I'm having some trouble interpreting it. Sorry if you don't feel like doing something like this and prefer to leave it up to us to read into. But if you would like to I'd be super interested to hear!

Oh I am so glad you asked thank you so much

So to start off: How the drawing came to be

It started when I was imagining a weird human/anthro hybrid warriors au where they all had human bodies but regular cat heads

You can actually see this in This Drawing and This One

It started because I wanted to try and draw both of their human body types but was too chicken shit to actually reveal their faces (They both have full human designs that I am embarrassed to share right now)

So I got to thinking one day about the abuse they endured with TigerClaw, what’s new about that y’know

But then I was listening to Big Bird by AJJ and something in my head just. Clicked for me

So whaddya know I got to sketching and we got the piece provided in your ask

Also I listened to Big Bird while finishing up the rendering, it heavily inspired the color choice of the piece

Alright, now onto how I interpret the piece: Bear in mind that the meaning can definitely vary, I’m open to different interpretations of the piece 100% I fucking love hearing analysis.

TW/CW for abuse

General:

Themes of abuse and attempting to move on with your future while not being able to let go of your past

Also has themes of shared trauma between two people (DarkStripe and Sasha)

The background in their portraits being nearly grey was meant to represent their whole world now having all of its color drained away due to TigerStar’s abuse

It’s very fitting that Big Bird inspired me to make both of them a bunch of oranges, yellows, and a bit of purples because that could fit the description of a tiger’s pelt (Just make the purple super dark)

So their colors represent TigerStar’s control taking over them

Now onto the elephant in the room: What’s with the cat heads?

Besides the pure stylistic choice, it also represents their conformity/loyalty to both TigerStar and the Clans in general

They’ve given up their humanity in order to please an individual and society

There’s also a reason behind the framing of both of their portraits

DarkStripe:

His portrait is him questioning his loyalty to TigerStar (As well as the Clans, but more so TigerStar)

But his action of picking at one small area of his neck with just the tip of his finger represents uncertainty

As if he’s “testing the waters” on how far his loyalty goes towards his cousin TigerStar

But he’s doing it in a subtle way so that no one will notice his wavering feelings. And so that he feels less guilty because he “Did it in a small way”

Him pulling away at his tank top to reveal more stitching represents his acknowledgement of what has been forced upon him: A cat’s head sewn onto his body

You might also notice in the corner that he’s making a bit of a grimace (Although I could have made it more prominent)

This is meant to show his pain towards his wavering loyalty: Physically and Emotionally and Literally (I mean come on he’s picking open a wound and sticking his finger into it)

The framing of the human body to cat head ratio being more human than cat is meant to represent his true side coming out and actually deciding things for himself rather than the cat head (the Clan side) deciding what he does

Although the slightly bigger ratio is very subtle

The bigger focus on the scars on his human skin was meant to show how much damage the Clan/TigerStar side of him has done to his true side

When we look at his portrait compared to Sasha’s, seeing what she’s doing gives you an idea of the pain that he also went through to achieve a socially perfect and desirable character

His unease to question this represents an inner conflict: Pick away at the stitches, achieve freedom, but be a social outcast; OR Leave the stitches, surrender yourself, and become accepted into the Clans, become accepted by TigerStar

Sasha:

Portrays her at the exact moment in which her fate is solidified, the cat’s head is sewn on

She is a Clan cat now.

TigerStar holding a knife up to her cheek is a bit of a call back to how he essentially forces her to join Shadowclan, to surrender herself to Clan society

Her blood falling onto the thread is meant to represent how with that final thread, her blood is ingrained into the Clans, her loyalty lies with them, with TigerStar

You may also notice her tank top has some blood stains, that doesn’t mean anything I just like how it came out

The way she’s holding the needle is super light too, it kind of looks like she’s ready to drop it to the ground as if it weighs as much as a brick

This is meant to represent the heavy burden that the needle (aka the Clans & TigerStar) has put onto her shoulders. Literally.

The focus being more on her cat head is meant to show how now her life revolves around showing loyalty her Clan side

Her human body (aka her past as a Kittypet) is not in focus, and when it is, it’s in the process of solidifying her future as a Clan cat through threading the needle through her skin

Her human body bears no scars. Yet.

In the future she will be tattooed with all sorts of scars, scratches, bites, and burns. But this is just the beginning

The subtle tears in her eyes both connect to a few things: Her realization of what she has just done, her physical pain, and the abuse she’s endured via TigerStar

She’s forced at knife-point to sew the cat’s head onto her, but the knife isn’t cutting into her cheek from the sharp side

It’s just a prod from the sharp tip, a push for her to continue, if you will

What TigerStar is telling Sasha through this gesture is, “I can hurt you if you don’t listen to me, but I don’t want to do that, unless you make me.”

It’s a sign to Sasha of the fate she’s signed herself away to, that is what makes her eyes tear up

The Corner Drawing:

Essentially meant to represent the two’s future together

I implied this in the first part but the portraits themselves represent the past

Meanwhile, the corner drawing represents the future

But the two seemingly can’t get their mind off of the past, it’s stuck with them just as the cat heads are stuck with them too

They’re both on the floor completely embracing each other, it’s reassurance that they can try and move on

But also, they can’t forget their past, their abuse, the blood they shed and the pain they felt. They just get better at dealing with it

Of course they can both tear off the cat heads and the cat tails right off their bodies; It’d hurt like all hell but they could power through it

But right now they just need time to process everything

Maybe day by day they can slowly pick at the stitches

This itself represents them trying to process their trauma they’ve experienced through the Clans and TigerStar

Things will never be the same, but time is going to keep going on and if they want to live, they’re going to need to keep up

And by god are they going to keep up

#blimbo rambles #ask #wc #abuse tw #darksasha #sorta

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beenbaanbuun · 5 months

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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BUNNYYYYYYY‼️‼️ NEW ADDAMS!MATZ POST!!! IM SCREAMING AND RUNNING LAPS!!! YOURE SPOILING US ILYY.

jongho made the appearance im SO happy, but i wanna give him a hug omg poor bear he sounds so sad 💔💔 i just wanna squeeze him and give him a few smooches. IM SO SO SO SO SO EXCITED TO SEE MORE IM KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING .

ALSO!! the ask about darling wearing darker clothes?? OH I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET AND BLUSHING WHY ARE THEY SO CUTE I CANNOT DO THIS 💔💔 THEY LOVE THEIR DARLING SO MUCH ITS SO CUTE I WANNA CRYYY 💔💔💔

oh and the cuddling butler san ask... i don't remember if i already sent you an anon commenting on this but i WILL DO IT AGAIN CUZ I AM STILL GIGGLING ABOUT PROTECTIVE YEOSANG. AND SANNIE IS TOO SWEET, i'm so soft for him in general i'm sorry i am nothing but weak for him 💔💔💔💔. butler!san i'm in love with you, you haven't appeared much, but i'm in love with you. he is my crush now, you cannot stop me.

AND THE JEALOUS MATZ! ASK!!! OMG IM SO WEAK FOR THEM LIKEEEE... GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET. I ALSO HAVE A CRUSH ON THEM!! (atp i have a crush in all the characters... who's going to stop me though. NOBODY!!)

I'M JUST OBSESSED WITH EVERYTHING OMG, YOURE LITERALLY SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER AND YOU KEEP GIVING US SUCH AMAZING CONTENT WITH THIS AU IM SO ATTACHED TO IT, THANK YOU AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL BRAIN FOR THIS!!! 🫂

ALSO I WISH ANONS WOULD LET YOU SEND PICTURES 🙁🙁🙁 CUZ I WANTED TO SEND YOU CUTE BUNNY PICS BUT I CANNTTTT 😔😔😔 SOBBING AS WE SPEAK!!

AND AND AND !! lastly (sorry i'm saying a LOT!!) i just read the yunho brother's best friend smut?? IT WAS SOOOOOO GOOD OMG?? I WAS GIGGLING, BLUSHING, BEING HORNY AND DROOLING. IT WAS AMAZING, I LOVED IT. I'M OBSESSED WITH IT TOO. YOURE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITERRRR.

anyways, i'm done now thehe. i hope you have an amazing day, take good care of yourself, rest well, drink lots of water and eat well. MWWAAAH SENDING HUGS!!!

— 🩰

I SWEAR BABY BEAR JONGHO WILL GET HAPPIER!!! HES JUST A LITTLE LONELY RIGHT NOW BUT DARLING WILL TREAT HIM SO KINDLY!!!!

the gothic fashion one was so fun!! i can’t remember if i said but i wear a mixture of cute stuff and alternative stuff (because i want to be cute but sometimes the urge to wear a band tshirt is just too big!!!!) so writing darling to be more alternative was fun for me!!

butler san will appear more! don’t worry 😭😭 i know he haven’t seen him much yet but he will!!! poor man just wants to do his job but unfortunately darling exists so his job will have to wait!!!!!

as for jealous matz, i’m fully of the belief that hongjoong just turns into the pettiest baby on the planet and i love him for that!!!! he has the right to be annoying as shit!!!!

i’m receiving the bunny pics mentally!!!!! don’t worry, they’re great!!!

AGDJGSJSGAHS THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS!!! I LOVE WRITING AND IM REALLY GLAD YOU GUYS LOVE READING MY WRITING!!! IT MAKES ME SUPER HAPPY 😭😭

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aphroditelovesu · 5 months

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Part 4: interpersonal relationships (idk what else to call it)

So, I think it's nice to see our girl getting on with the other officers. I think kindness is something that means a lot to her, so it makes sense that she's now latching on to Leonnatus and Selucus. They're kind to her and aren't quite as difficult as Perdiccas. I also find it interesting that the army is generally warming up to her. I don't think that will bode very well for Perdiccas or the Persians when shit hits the fan 😬💀!

On a more NSFW note, I'm now kinda wondering how Reader has been getting on with Alexander himself. There is clearly a sexual component to the relationship now. I suspect that Alexander doesn't see it as just sex/procreation, but I'm not sure about our poor girl 😕. She no doubt knows it's probably better to just go along with it. However, I will say that she did seem to rather enjoy herself during the wedding night. And Alexander seems like a quick learner who is eager to make things more pleasant, so idk what what's going on...

I am also wondering is Alexander has continued to needle her about where she's from and how she ended up in his camp. He wanted to know during their initial encounter, so I'd imagine he'd still want to know...

I think that all for now. Thanks for bearing with me as always lol! In the meantime, I wish you the best of luck with your exams 🍀🤞!

Until next time ❤️💙!

--O-

Our girl needs friends and I'm not that cruel, so she made some. Seleucus and Leonnatus seemed like the right choice for the job. They are definitely not difficult like Perdiccas, since they do not have romantic/obsessive feelings for her. They can become yandere but it will be something platonic.

Reader's relationship with Alexander is complicated but they are getting along well. It's technically a dub-con, as she doesn't necessarily want to be with him but she doesn't have much of a choice and she ends up enjoying her time with him eventually, as Alexander shows concern about what she wants in his way. Alexander loves her, or thinks he does, so he sees sexual relations with her as a kind of ritual. I could explore the sexual aspect of their relationship more if you want. ;)

Ah, he asks, but she's good at distracting him. Alexander still wants to know and he will but for now she manages to keep him in the dark.

I appreciate you reading! Thank you very much, my exams are over and my peace has returned. ❤️

#ask #o- anon

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aliensmoothie · 8 months

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I WPULD. LOVW TO KNOW SO MUCHABOUT BALONEY . i think the fact that he's in the bg3 universe is amusing to me . i hope hes been getting up to shenanigans . i love that he outdrank some guy

HE HAS IN FACT BEEN UP TO TONS OF SHENANIGANS . him and ast*rion are on slightly less thin ice than usual which maybe doesnt bode well for baloney's moral compass atm but he is pleased to be getting more info abt the man at any rate . he gave shadowheart a flower and it reminded me of the flower scene from tftb and i cried a little . i dont think baloney has romantic feelings toward shadowheart . but it was cute nonetheless HER LITTLE ' HA JUST KIDDING ' AFTER SAYING IT WAS POISONOUS WAS SO CUTE . i was pretty neutral on beloved shart at first but now i belove her alot . he has still not stopped travelling with wyll they are besties forever to me . baloney is like wyll's pet decrepit old man who has mostly good intentions and is only sometimes overly violent .ALSO FUN FACT HE HAS OUTDRANK PEOPLE BEFORE HE DID IT IN A DND CAMPAIGN I PUT HIM IN . he ALMOST outdrank the whole party . but the ( i think ) warlock just barely beat him .

also . coughs . let me go dig up the summary i wrote about his backstory . grins completely insane .

ok . smiles . SO . Bloney is from a town called bone-dry ( which also has it's own whole lore google doc but thats another story ) which in short is a small town surrounded by it's own graveyard in the middle of a salt desert . he is the middle child of . like 13 ? i dont have the number written down anywhere but i think that is right . anyways he's somewhere in the middle . he has always been just a very strange child . standoffish and always smiling at inappropriate times and not very good at talking with people , and spends most of his time reading whatever reading material passes through the town through trade , and then cataloguing all of it . HE ALSO catalogues any stories he can get out of the travelers who pass through ., and anything the people in town tell him . that said . he is standoffish and people in town are just kind of made Uncomfortable by him . so this effort does not ever bear much fruit for him . can youtell i am projecting my autism experiences onto him BAD . one day when he is a fairly young adult , his eldest brother dies under somewhat mysterious circumstances . on that same day , baloney finds himself lost out in the desert , and almost dies too . all he remembers is wandering , trying to find his way back home for hours and hours , and as the sun beats down at him he collapses and goes unconcious . he wakes up to a raven pecking at his head , and when he wakes up it starts to fly away , but stops and lands a few feet away and looks back at him . and when he follows it , it leads him back to town . from then on , he does not remember how he ended up wandering through the desert , and he does not remember that his eldest brother is dead . they never find his body , and with nothing to bury they just erect a gravestone in their vast graveyard with nothing underneath it . this whole experience combined with baloney's newfound memory issues give him a . warped view of death . where he never fully believes someone is dead , just missing , sick , or is generally in some kind of denial about it . ( BG3 BALONEY I THINK THIS GOES ANOTHER WAY WHERE HE BECOMES SORT OF OBSESSED WITH DEATH . though i dont know much about the durge stuff yet SO we'll see . we are talking about canon baloney for the most part here anyways though . if the durge stuff doesnt spell completely otherwise there should be some overlap still smile ) ALSO since that day , a small number of ravens have been appearing in town , which tend to folow baloney . or maybe the other way around . at any rate , baloney find that the ravens are most interested when he tells them tales of the dead ( or in his mind the sick or the missing ), which starts when he talks to them about his eldest brother . over the years he spends nearly all his time combing through the town's graveyard , and telling whatever stories he knows at the dead . he gets *really good* at piecing together stories of these people's lives from what limited information he can get from the rest of town . and without him knowing , the raven following him and listening to his stories were a weak manifestation of the raven queen , who was over time building him up to be her cleric . after many years he notices the ravens have started flying away from the town and not returning . at this point he is familiar enough with the ravens that their message is clear : he needs to leave town and seek out more knowledge of the dead . his one wish being to figure out how to heal these " sick " people , to talk to them and find their stories from the source . all of that building up to him being a death domain cleric LARGELY FOCUSED on necromancy . smile . also i have been playing with the idea that he is the one who killed his oldest brother . my only roadblock being that im not sure Why he would have done it . alas . it is a neat concept !

#¿#I ENJOY HIS BACKSTORY i was sad i couldnt make him his exact class in bg3 but oh well 💔#bone-dry is fun for me also . fun fact the desert it's in used to be a salt water lake #ive never ironed out the fine details of it but in my mind it was all pretty quickly evaporated by ..some kind of magical cataclysm #again ive never ironed out the details . but bone-dry was established when the lake was still there it was built In the lake #okay sorry there is like a whole google doc of stuff about that town . baloney is so important to me i think about him very often .#my ocs #baloney watertower #hesitated posting this i feel SO CRINGE sharing my oc lore . but im going to make myself do it anyways . im SO POWERFUL

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xjoonchildx · 6 months

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Dearest Miss Ana,

Now that Kanalia has ended ( and I repeat, what a wonderful ending!) I have a few questions. A sort of follow-up if you will.

A) Does the Queen confide in Boram about her relationship with Lord Jung and their baby? Does Yoongi know about his bestie’s extracurricular activities?

B) After the announcement of the Queen’s pregnancy how did King Namjoon and the unofficial Queen reacted?

C) Did our Queen ever write back to her sister? ( sorry I’m just very close to my sis and I want Queen to get along with hers 😭)

D) After the baby did anything changed in the relationship between their majesties?

Sorryyyy for the many questions but I am a woman that lives, breaths and gets motivated to exist by the ✨chisme✨ and I need the juicy details 😭😭

Also may I say this quickly, but from the moment that Yoongi went into the military and he had to break all contact I feel like I wasn’t able to keep up as much with the fandom.

I was expecting for there to be less of Yoongi but not in this degree and I feel like we were somehow thrown into the Anexo (a place where families send drug addicts to get clean but it’s brutal) .

I know it’s ridiculous to suffer so deeply the lack of someone that you don’t even personally know to this degree, but it hurt and I had to take a step back.

Reading the ending of Kanalia helped me reconnect with my love for BTS and Army, I may still be a bit away but you helped me remember the goods parts that I was missing.

Thank you Miss Ana ✨

sweet, sweet paloma 💕

honestly, what have i ever done to deserve you? if i am in any way connected to your rekindled love for BTS and ARMY, i'm forever humbled and grateful 💕 having you here to chat with and obsess about hoseok with has been a flipping blast.

so let's talk about your questions 😉

A) so ... the queen would not breathe a word about what's going on with another soul, not even boram. it's not so much that she doesn't trust boram (because i believe she's the kind of friend who would take a secret like that to the grave) but it's because sharing that kind of secret with boram would make the burden in some way hers, too.

that's a very heavy load to bear for even the queen and lord jung, so i can't imagine either would want to drag their innocent friends into it.

B) the king's reaction to the pregnancy announcement (even if he does have his suspicions) is generally positive. he certainly hasn't been able to produce an heir and he needs one! so he's going to slap that smile on and play the part.

privately, i'm sure he has some thoughts about it -- but he could be wrong, right? surely this is just in his head? 😉

C) yes, the queen absolutely writes back to her dear chaehee. she supports her sister in the marriage she's so happy for even if her mother thinks her new husband is below her station. and once the baby comes along, she invites chaehee and her husband to visit. at least now she actually has something beautiful of her own that she can share.

D) very little changes between the majesties after the arrival of the baby. they remain cordial and a bit distant, but at least now they both have a place they can go to in order to have connection and peace.

let's talk about missing yoongi because babe, i get it. i was watching his doc the other day and it really helped me understand why he needs this time away from the spotlight. he's an introvert who is far too talented to stay that way, but in the end he's got to retreat to his private space in order to stay sane.

i imagine that after this time in the military, he's going to come back with something brilliant like he always has -- and he's going to commit even harder to this dream of his. i know it's hard to wait, but man i can't wait to see it 💕

#anagrams 💕#sweet paloma #fic: kanalia

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baconcolacan · 1 year

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Hello again, thanks for answering! It almost gave me something when I asked the question, but now I think it's not as scary as before, well I have more questions! I'm sorry if there are many, and I apologize if my English is not very good.

1- Ok, we know that R!Tord would keep memories in case R!Tom died, but in the future no one would wonder who was that person for the Red Leader? I mean, the recordings, the painting, the monument and having a country blown to pieces out of nowhere? I guess people would think it was the Red Leader's couple, right?

2- What would be the reaction of the generals if R!Tord had told them the reason why he wants R!Tom?

3- Why I think that the one who is going to end up killing General Weth is going to be R!Tom?

4- The red soldiers are not going to wonder why R!Tom is still alive?

5- I know that this question will probably be answered in future chapters, but will R!Tom be able to freely roam the base? And please tell me that R!Tord will give R!Tom some clothes so he doesn't freeze to death.

6- What would be the reaction of Hillarson and the old unit of R!Tom to see that the Red Leader is "In Love" with R!Tom (I say "in love" because that is not love)

7- Where are Susan and Tomme Bear?

8- In some future we will see Mark and Eduardo?

Oh! and My girlfriend and my friend are proud that I sent you the questions,because they know that I am a very nervous girl and they probably knew that I would never send the questions, by the way my friend has one:

Now ask him how I can force my friend to see regimen and if he answers the comment, I read regimen.

Thank you for taking your time to answer my previous questions, Take care of yourself!

Ayyeee! Hi bud! Its nice to see that you dont think its scary to ask me things anymore hahaha answers below!

Well, people will wonder why Tom was so important, but I think they wouldn't really press for details in fear of Red Leader lashing out. Still, some will suspect that he was a lost love or some such, not that they'd try to confirm it anyway.

Well, shock, most of all, but they won't linger on it too much. RL's whims are very erratic, so at this point they would have already been used to it. So the shock will only last for a moment then they'll just accept it.

Hm, dunno.

They will. But you know. See above.

Hmmm. You'll have to wait for that :]

Hilarson would have a fit, because he knows how bad it would be to have RL's undivided, obsessive, attention. Same goes with Tom's old unit, which I hope you mean the 9th Norway Corps, as they would also do whatever they can to keep Tom away from the RA.

Susan is at home, Tommee bear might be as well.

Uhhhhh, well, I dont believe so, as Regimen will focus mainly on Tom and the other guys.

HAHAHAHA AND NO PROBS CHUM! I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask me questions :D

And as for what your friend said, I dont think I can force anyone to read the fic ahahaha, Im not that kind of dude. People can choose whether or not they want to read Regimen, as the story does deal with darker topics, so I wouldn't want to make somebody uncomfortable if they dont like what the tags say :PP

Thanks for stopping by again!!

#asks #lobosforeveranever #regimen ao3 #I feel so bad for regimen since Im fixating on other aus rn kdjgfdjkgm

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bookofmirth · 1 year

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I recently read a comment where an El/riel said that Az could never end up with Gwyn just because she is an “irrelevant nobody”, while he in one of “the main and most important characters”. And they go on saying things like “she is unworthy of him”, “he deserves someone insanely great” and bla bla bla…

Beside the fact that the whole post sounded pretty, uhm… aggressive and anti-feminist I guess? It made me realise that maybe some people ship Elucien or El/riel because being Elain’s partner means… more “screen time”?

We know that the ACOTAR series follows the journey of the Archeron sisters, and the only one left is Elain, whose journey basically still have to begin and find a properly conclusion. So, it’s logically implied that, as Nesta’s book became a Nessian book, Elain’s one will also become her LI’s ones (but SJM looooves feminism, at least as Rhysand does ;) ).

Sincerely, I’m pretty sure that, deep down in our unconscious, this is the reason why we all stan a ship or another, and I know it’s kinda a cynical though and not so feminist, since it implies Elain being a sort of “prize” for more screen time and more fangirl internal screams (yeah, because we all are fangirl who just want more hot-fae material at the end ahahah).

The point is, if only we were a little more conscious of it, we could understand each other better and, in an idillic word, maybe stop writing insults each other for supporting a ship we don’t like. We are all on the same boat, thirsty for our best men in fictional books, so there’s no point on being mean or writing a poem about how a character sucks for this or that reason, especially if it could only hurt someone else who feels a strong connection with that character…

Sorry for this looong rant ahaha, but I really like your blog. In your post you’re always polite so I though you where the right one to share my cynical vision of the ship war with. 😊

Hello! Just to be clear, the main reason I am posting this is because you were talking about the fandom in general, rather than being a butt about anyone in particular (other than whoever posted about Gwyn being a nobody, RIP because sjm is going to do what she wants with whatever character she wants. Chaol was just an annoying ass royal guard at first, too.)

I do agree with you about screen time. And that yeah, when we get Elain's book, it will not just be hers but also her love interest's book. I kept insisting on calling acosf the Nesta book before it came out, but... idk, I could go either way. We definitely didn't learn as much about Cassian as I think people had hoped to, but Nesta's issues were at the forefront and more pressing, anyway. The narration did follow Cassian at times, and we got to know some of his inner thoughts. So yeah, I assume that whenever we get Elain's book (and whoever else's we are going to get) then the narration will likely follow her love interest and we will get his (let's be real, it won't be a her) inner thoughts, and probably learn a bit more about him.

(This has made me start thinking about perspective and how people are struggling to understand the difference between first and third person and being unreliable, hang on let me grab a drink 😭)

And I definitely agree that if we could just accept that we are generally here for the same reason - obsessed over acotar - then maybe we might possibly, potentially, not be at each other's throats all the time? People just gotta make this their whole personality though, like if someone on the internet, who they will never meet irl and who otherwise has absolutely no bearing on their lives, disagrees with them, then *pearl clutch* omfg call the police their whole identity has now been put into question.

Calm. Down.

The most annoying thing about all of it to me is that it's all over MEN. People shit on Elain and Gwyn for a DUDE. And maybe it's not because of the ship war but people also shit on Mor for a DUDE. How about we just don't?

I'll be out here, doing my level best to tip the scales all by my lonesome by shitting on the dudes for the sake of Elain, and Gwyn, and Mor :)

Okay but back to your point, that people are actually invested in whoever the secondary character is going to be, I can see that. I've seen plenty of people say they don't like Elain, but will read elucien/elriel. It makes me sad tbh. I always see one of sjm's strengths - or at least one of the things I enjoy the most - being that she centers women in her stories. I used to assume that that's something that other readers enjoyed as well, but I guess not. People can like what they want for whatever reasons they want, but some of these discussions make it very, very clear how they feel about women, queer people, and people of color! Even if they won't say it out loud.

#okay I had to stop myself #I was really rambling #acotar #ask #anon #acotar fandom

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f0xgl0v3 · 11 months

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New Rome, maybe? Working on a map, Sobbing in the back rooms-

Summary; I lie about talking about anything of substance, and am thinking about starting a companion in character blog, I’m caving on my plushie obsession, I lie about what I’m gonna post about because it’s gonna be Dakota or the Dionysus twins

I’m tired and slightly unhinged while writing this, but so far I’ve made a total of 5 maps roughly, of various designs of Camp Jupiter. I still have to actually uh, make a proper map; but then I’d have to decide what actually everything was looking like, buildings, how training actually works in CJ and where that takes place; etc, etc. anyway I’m not here to sob over that (yet- especially after I’m doing the whole ‘but what if it was more alike to the og legion??’ Shtick)

But for now I’m gonna talk a little about my concepts for and what we know about New Rome, layout, buildings, and other things based on a mix of various canon maps, actual historical records of Roman city structure, general assumption, and descriptions of New Rome (mostly that would be from SoN and MoA i think- I’ll have to go re-read the New Rome parts respectively before I begin layout work-)

HOWEVER,

I’m going to start a notebook specifically for the documentation and my thought process of the whole New Rome/Camp Jupiter/PJO-verse?? Re-imagining. And I’ll probably begin reporting back on my findings and post on the actual jumbled ideas for this because instead of working on that fun little thing where I re-imagine how the seven plot works (because that means I’d inject a extra book in there and I’d actually sob if I’d have to re-read HoO because I only finished it in August of this year and the rate at which I got through books was disproportionate, please I finished SoN in one day then it took me 2 months to finish MoA-)

But yes, New Rome New Rome- there are very certain things I’d want to settle out. Or for right now at least, before I through my self back into designing a city-

Both the Chariot racing, and Gladiator battles for war games take place in New Rome, as the respective areas for each are hosted in New Rome. I’d imagine that New Rome have their celebrity athletes inside of the modern Rome society of people that play classical Roman sports/games. I have been working with the assumption that both Camp and New Rome have some form of a ‘Forum’ area- in the most basic idea of a Forum area for Camp; I’m looking into making a good balance of how I want Camp to be made so I might change any of that- we’d just have to see.

Okay, okay, but the important things!

I might make a different blog in rp for my character Mercury (or I posted her as Calliope, but I guess she’ll never escape being named after Gods- though Mercedes or Sicily are still name options and I’m getting off topic-) just for the actual official; formatted ideas for New Rome and Camp Jupiter. I’d probably present it as ‘oh this blog is for New Legionnaires/ young citizens in New Rome waiting to join the Legion’ and would present my thoughts more coherently.

Basically here is where the goopy thinking parts of making the ideas would be; whereas over there would be where you would get the actual information (I might also finish the notion page I was working on but that one genuinely hurt my soul to repeatedly work in and on)

But I dunno; I got the idea from a separate blog that I just followed (I’ll link it after I post it so I get this right, @new-rome-historians-association the actual inspiration for the companion blog )and it seems like a fun idea, but I don’t know if people would be interested as it is purely fannon.

Anyway; I’ll get either that CJ fatal flaw PT. 2 post up finally, a Luke Castellan thing, maybe the Gods, or Octavian

ALSO IM GETTING THE WOLF PUP BUILD-A-BEAR, I CAVED; HIS NAME IS AUGUSTUS BUT WE CALL HIM GUS- ILL SHOW PICS WHEN HE ARRIVES!!

Okay, byeee :3

#camp jupiter #fanon #ideas #concept #project concepts #idk how to tag this #I listen to warrior cats videos whenever I need to post something #making maps sucks #taking suggestions

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therehavebeenstranger · 1 year

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Okay! @stankhead just tagged me in their brand new tag game about our top artistic influences. I really really love this and am honestly very grateful to grem for giving me a little opportunity to be reflective about this right now; for context, i am about two weeks out from graduating with an MFA in creative writing (fiction track) from [redacted prominent midwestern university w decently-renowned 40 yr old mfa which has been attacked in recent years by humanities-hating admin, there you go, now everybody who follows the chronicle of higher ed can probably dox my ass] and so it’s nice, at this transition moment, to take a step back and think about the influences that have shaped my writing on a global level. I think it’s super useful and i’m typing this in a word doc so i can hang onto it for later. Okay enough chit chat. I’m gunna try to limit this to no more than like 4 or 5

Carmen Maria Machado—CMM is one of my biggest, most direct, and most obvious influences. She came to my college campus to lead a workshop and give a reading in the months leading up to the publication of her body and other parties. I was a sophomore (or maybe this was late freshman year?????) and encountering her work totally and completely shifted what i write and how i write. Complete reframe on what speculative fiction was and what it could do. HBaOP went on to have a big impact on me (esp. formally weird stories like Especially Heinous) but at the moment i was obsessed with her stories the husband stitch and my body, herself

Peak Cracked Dot Com—but especially everything DOB touched when he was there! I was a regular cracked reader from the age of 11 to the exact day that all those layoffs happened, and by regular i mean that every day i had access to the internet i read/watched/listened every piece of new content they published, whether or not i gave a shit about the subject matter. Cracked’s influence on me is less easy to tangibly track than CMM, but i literally boiled my forming brain in that site and i think the style permeates me work. Cracked had this strand of pedantry that necessitated dwelling with strange research and subject matter and letting things sort of spiral and cook and letting the obsession change the voice. (also, subject matter—this article inspired an obsession w Dorothy Arnold which became a story that will be published later this year.) It had a huge impact on my sense of humor and the way i approach dialogue, even when i’m not conscious of that. For dialogue i am especially thinking of video content like after hours and agents of cracked (the way the “swaim proving that that guy fu-u-u-cks goats” monologue hits in this ep *changed me forever). In general, i think my approach to narrative voice was really impacted by the fact that i spend my adolescence reading DOB’s old “my brief time as (blank)” articles and shit like “yer gramma was built like a brick shit-house in her day”

*if you click that link fair warning that the video is from like 2010 and def has some stuff that makes me uncomfortable in hindsight, including at least one use of the r word

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy—man. This is one of the great novels of all time, isn’t it???? i was assigned it in ib english senior year of high school and i’ve tried to read it at least once a year since. Pieces of the language regularly float back to me—“a viable, dieable age” “a sariflapping” “the time was ten to two” “the history woman in the history house.” Roy does things with language that i didn’t know you could do—makes paragraphs which are so thick and lush that they feel humid and green. Sticks words together to make new and better ones. Talks frankly about the story being told by the story. Like, that’s one of the things that’s so brilliant, right? From go, you know that sophie mol and velutha will die. The question is not what will happen in the story but how the story will be told and how it will mean to us. The language bears that out. It has totally suffused in my brain, it’s a lens through which i read everything. Also i think it’s about time for my annual reread of this book, ha.

What the moon brought by Sadie rose weilerstein—see, this is why i love this tag. I would not have pegged this book as an influence before being tasked w this reflexive task, but it looms large in my mind!!! My copy of this book—a collection of stories about sisters Ruth and Debbie as they go through their jewish year in the american suburbs, living their lives and observing jewish holy days—was ancient, falling apart; it had been purchased for my mother and her siblings in the early 60s. i was obsessed with it. it was the first book i read which treated Judaism as a fact of american life, if that made sense? Or the first book where i was conscious of Judaism as a force shaping story, time, etc. i mean it’s literally about what the moon brought; a recognition of the lunar jewish calendar. A different kind of time keeping. It told me that jewish stories were and are interesting, singular, rich, and worth pursuing. including a picture of the cover bc i love the cover :)

The fourth state of matter by jo ann beard—this essay is amazing, not that i am the first to say so. It’s worth reading, though i’ll warn that its content (it’s about a shooting that happened on a college campus) can obviously be tough to deal with. This has a very direct impact in my mind. My first creative writing prof ever used this essay to teach us about psychic distance, and learning about psychic distance was like—not like getting a new tool in my little writer’s toolkit, but like having the key that unlocked the kit in the first place.

There’s more, of course there’s more, but this is a thousand words so i’ll call it here. again, thank u gremlin for coming up with this tag it’s lovely and so useful. i'll tag @pintobordeaux and @januariat but i really genuinely encourage anybody who sees this post to do this kind of accounting. it's really useful and illuminating :)

#hey i feel like i act like im a thousand years old in this post #im litarally 26 im just weird #honorable mentions: atla the lover by duras ezra furman #also the work of brian friel especially translations #and enda walsh especially the walworth farce

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measuringbliss · 2 years

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Thanks @dance2xrevolution <3

I always love to see you around.

favorite time of year: Halloween actually! It's fun to see the decoration and stuff, watch tons of horror movies, dress up, etc. I also love summer nights (when not trying to sleep), and when it's very sunny but there's also wind so the sky is beautiful but the wind helps tame the heat.

comfort food: fajitas, fried chicken, risotto, curry, soup... if I love it, it's comforting!

favorite dessert: concorde chocolate cake, île flottante, chocolate mousse

things you collect: at one point I was collecting the Umineko manga collection because I was in my Umineko era, but there were 21 omnibusses at 25-30 euros the omnibus if you were lucky. eventually decided it was much more handy (and cheaper) to have them digitally instead.

See the issue?

If you're curious, my physical collection comprises of the first two Episodes, Legend of the Golden Witch and Turn of the Golden Witch. Then digitally (through Kobo), I've got the third Episode (Banquet, vol. 5&6), Vol. 10 (first vol. of Episode 5, End), the sixth Episode (Dawn, vol. 13-15) and the eight and final Episode (Twilight, vol. 19-21). My reasoning was that I wanted to go chronological, but I was already not fond of Banquet (though with distance I can appreciate its chaotic approach), then I think Alliance mostly sucks. End is great but I never re-read it, Dawn is great too, Requiem (Episode 7) was perfect when I read it in VN but I never felt the need to read the manga, and Twilight is a good Episode and most importantly, the manga version actually adds stuff for the better!

So I've got 13/21 volumes.

I also collected a few Spider-Man comic books. I'm not a big collector in general but I *would* have an entire room dedicated to Virtue's Last Reward if I could and wanted to.

Hi baby

favorite drinks: Cherry Coke, Milk + Strawberry Syrup

favorite musician/band: CAPSULE (Japanese electro) is regularly something I come back to, but nowadays I'm much less fixated on specific bands. I had a Jamiroquai phase but I was so into it that nowadays I pretty much can't stand it.

Now if we're talking *composers*, I'd say Masafumi Takada and Shinji Hosoe are mainstays.

last song listened to: Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes

last movie watched: A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy's Revenge! Very gay, enjoyed it much more than the first one.

last series watched: I recently finished She-Hulk, absolutely loved it. I'm also rewatching Glee.

Also this wasn't asked but video games are an important component of my life so I very recently finished Metroid Dread and loved its challenge. Also going through Picross S, it's great but literally lead me to stay up all night hahaha

currently watching: DS9 (less than a season per year lmao), Merli: Sapere Aude (love triangles, bisexual protagonist, philosophy...), Spider-Man 1994 (almost finished with S1 and very impressed), Brideshead Revisited (I think I stalled it).

current obsession: Glee, in a way. Bears. Buffy still? Kind of. I mean I just bought a magazine about it.

dream place to visit: Nothing! I'm pretty content with where I went. I think I realized that no place will ever be as charming as you could dream of. I'm very happy with where I am right now, where I was last year, and I don't feel the place to go anywhere specific.

places you wanna go back to: Austria, where I was last year. I miss my city very dearly. I also enjoy the south of France in small doses. I'd like to go back to Saint Emilion because it's very charming.

something you want: nothing again! I feel pretty content in an achievable category of things. I don't think I let myself want anything I can't have.

but also I really want Adderall (or Ritalin, whatever).

project working on: Another fantranslation (ugh), the Glee Rewatch project (link on my pinned masterpost!), maybe a fanfic, maybe video essays... mostly I just finished an exhausting week so I'm. sleeping. or trying to.

I'm tagging anyone who sees this post and wants to participate!

#asks #not an ask but it's similar enough #umineko #virtue's last reward #i'm absolutely willing to send drm-free versions of the Umineko ebooks I have

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curiosity-killed · 3 years

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Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

#should I wait and proofread and edit this tomorrow? yes.#am I doing that? no <3 #idk what to tag this as #uhhh #tgcf spoilers #lang qianqiu #I don’t think this can reasonably be called meta #since I am unsure if it is even readable #tgcf #long post

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