#iii. EVEN THE DEAD TELL STORIES » … writing.

[fxtalitygod]

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

Love.

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

[mins-fins]

ENDLESS, NAMELESS

❝ bright and clear, it's what i am, i have died.. ❞

in which. you always say that you don't write your songs about anybody, a statement you continue to repeat no matter how much people try to speculate about your dumb little song lyrics. it's a well know fan theory that the person you refer to in your songs is none other than your very own ex, the gorgeous lead guitarist of band aestas, mark lee, someone who you very much dislike talking about. are you over your ex? absolutely not, but you aren't going to tell anyone that. not your friends, not your fans, and definitely not the man himself.

𖥻 pairing guitarist!mark lee x drummer!male reader

𖥻 genre band au, social media au, fluff, angst, comedy, exes to not-so-friends to lovers, mutual pining, sort of slow burn, stubborn lovestruck fool x even more stubborn lovestruck fool

𖥻 warnings swearing, kys/kms jokes, explicit language, sexual jokes, an implication of sexual content, mentions of violence, smoking & alcohol consumption, stubborn bitches deny their feelings for about 20 chapters

𖥻 status complete!!

❝ silence, here i am, here i am, silent.. ❞

──── ⭒ PROFILES the divorcees 𖦹 a TOTALLY zen band 𖦹 hot girl summer

──── ⭒ TABLE OF CONTENTS !

i. twitter moots no longer 💔

ii. mark's pretty drummer ex

iii. FUCK MARK LEE (projecting)

iv. lying dead on the bathroom floor

v. the xiaoyn beef (or gay love story i guess)

vi. ITS ALL OVER 💔💔

vii. shakespeare but make it gay

viii. platonically sleeping together

ix. baby can we fix it?

x. is this a drug psa?

xi. idk who that is!!

xii. yn and mark, mark and yn

xiii. johnny suh is a real one 🙏

xiv. HE WANTS YOU!!

xv. froyo works every time

xvi. so ivy coded

xvii. 1000 song lyrics later

xviii. chat we lost

xix. cissy strut

xx. $50 in the bank account

xxi. cookies for the conscious

xxii. kiss my shades

xxiii. surprise surprise

xxiv. wedding invitations

[soracities]

what are your suggestions for starter poetry for people who dont have strong reading/analysis backgrounds

I've answered this a few times so I'm going to compile and expand them all into one post here.

I think if you haven't read much poetry before or aren't sure of your own tastes yet, then poetry anthologies are a great place to start: many of them will have a unifying theme so you can hone in based on a subject that interests you, or pick your way through something more general. I haven't read all of the ones below, but I have read most of them; the rest I came across in my own readings and added to my list either because I like the concept or am familiar with the editor(s) / their work:

Staying Alive: Real Poems for Unreal Times (ed. Nick Astley) & Being Alive: The Sequel to Staying Alive (there's two more books in this series, but I'm recommending these two just because it's where I started)

The Rattlebag (ed. Seamus Heaney and Ted Hughes)

The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry (ed. Ilya Kaminsky & Susan Harris)

The Essential Haiku, Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa (ed. Robert Hass)

A Book of Luminous Things (ed. Czesław Miłosz )

Now and Then: The Poet's Choice Columns by Robert Hass (this may be a good place to start if you're also looking for commentary on the poems themselves)

Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World(ed. Pádraig Ó'Tuama)

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle and Song (ed. Kevin Young)

The Art of Losing: Poems of Grief and Healing (ed. Kevin Young)

Lifelines: Letters from Famous People about their Favourite Poems

The following lists are authors I love in one regard or another and is a small mix of different styles / time periods which I think are still fairly accessible regardless of what your reading background is! It's be no means exhaustice but hopefully it gives you even just a small glimpse of the range that's available so you can branch off and explore for yourself if any particular work speaks to you.

But in any case, for individual collections, I would try:

anything by Sara Teasdale

Devotions / Wild Geese / Felicity by Mary Oliver

Selected Poems and Prose by Christina Rossetti

Collected Poems by Langston Hughes

Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein

Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez

Revolutionary Letters, Diane di Prima

Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved by Gregory Orr

Rose: Poems by Li-Young Lee

A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor / Barefoot Souls by Maram al-Masri

Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky

Tell Me: Poems / What is This Thing Called Love? by Kim Addonizio

The Trouble with Poetry by Billy Collins (Billy Collins is THE go-to for accessible / beginner poetry in my view so I think any of his collections would probably do)

Crush by Richard Siken

Rapture / The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail

Selected Poems by Walt Whitman

View with a Grain of Sand by Wislawa Szymborska

Collected Poems by Vasko Popa

Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas (this is a play, but Thomas is a poet and the language & structure is definitely poetic to me)

Bright Dead Things: Poems by Ada Limón

Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire,

Nostalgia, My Enemy: Selected Poems by Saadi Youssef

As for individual poems:

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

[Dear The Vatican] erasure poem by Pádraig Ó'Tuama // "The Pedagogy of Conflict"

"Good Bones" by Maggie Smith

"The Author Writes the First Draft of His Weddings Vows (An erasure of Virginia Woolf's suicide letter to her husband, Leonard)" by Hanif Abdurraqib

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Sciences Sing a Lullabye" by Albert Goldbarth

"One Last Poem for Richard" by Sandra Cisneros

"We Lived Happily During the War" by Ilya Kaminsky

“I’m Explaining a Few Things”by Pablo Neruda

"Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" //"Nothing Gold Can Stay"//"Out, Out--" by Robert Frost

"Tablets: I // II // III"by Dunya Mikhail

"What Were They Like?" by Denise Levertov

"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden,

"The Patience of Ordinary Things" by Pat Schneider

“I, too” // "The Negro Speaks of Rivers” // "Harlem” // “Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes

“The Mower” // "The Trees" // "High Windows" by Philip Larkin

“The Leash” // “Love Poem with Apologies for My Appearance” // "Downhearted" by Ada Limón

“The Flea” by John Donne

"The Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore

"Beauty" // "Please don't" // "How it Adds Up" by Tony Hoagland

“My Friend Yeshi” by Alice Walker

"De Humanis Corporis Fabrica"byJohn Burnside

“What Do Women Want?” // “For Desire” // "Stolen Moments" // "The Numbers" by Kim Addonizio

“Hummingbird” // "For Tess" by Raymond Carver

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin

“Bleecker Street, Summer” by Derek Walcott

“Dirge Without Music” // "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Digging” // “Mid-Term Break” // “The Rain Stick” // "Blackberry Picking" // "Twice Shy" by Seamus Heaney

“Dulce Et Decorum Est”by Wilfred Owen

“Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition”by Wislawa Szymborska

"Hour" //"Medusa" byCarol Ann Duffy

“The More Loving One” // “Musée des Beaux Arts” by W.H. Auden

“Small Kindnesses” // "Feeding the Worms" by Danusha Laméris

"Down by the Salley Gardens” // “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats

"The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass

"The Last Love Letter from an Entymologist" by Jared Singer

"[i like my body when it is with your]" by e.e. cummings

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Last Night I Dreamed I Made Myself" by Paige Lewis

"A Dream Within a Dream" // "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe (highly recommend reading the last one out loud or listening to it recited)

"Ars Poetica?" // "Encounter" // "A Song on the End of the World"by Czeslaw Milosz

"Wandering Around an Albequerque Airport Terminal” // "Two Countries” // "Kindness” by Naoimi Shihab Nye

"Slow Dance” by Matthew Dickman

"The Archipelago of Kisses" // "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel

"Mimesis" by Fady Joudah

"The Great Fires" // "The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" // "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert

"The Mermaid" // "Virtuosi" by Lisel Mueller

"Macrophobia (Fear of Waiting)" by Jamaal May

"Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong" by Ocean Vuong

"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

I would also recommend spending some times with essays, interviews, or other non-fiction, creative or otherwise (especially by other poets) if you want to broaden and improve how you read poetry; they can help give you a wider idea of the landscape behind and beyond the actual poems themselves, or even just let you acquaint yourself with how particular writers see and describe things in the world around them. The following are some of my favourites:

Upstream: Essays by Mary Oliver

"Theory and Play of the Duende" by Federico García Lorca

"The White Bird" and "Some Notes on Song" by John Berger

In That Great River: A Notebook by Anna Kamienska

A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

"Of Strangeness That Wakes Us" and "Still Dancing: An Interview with Ilya Kaminsky" by Ilya Kaminsky

"The Sentence is a Lonely Place" by Garielle Lutz

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon by Mark Doty

Paris, When It's Naked by Etel Adnan

[askinkiskarma]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VIII: My Tears Ricochet

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: All secrets are revealed and both you and Neteyam have to live with the consequences of your actions.

Warnings: pure angst, mentions of death, mental illness, addiction, self-injury, limited mentions of Y/N, did i mention angst, angst and more angst?

Word Count: 10,3k words (the first couple chapters were 3k, how did we get here??!)

A/N: This chapter killed me a little inside. I cried multiple times writing it, so I guess fair warning. I wanted really badly to build strong, round characters who had flaws and strengths and strong reasoning for acting a certain way/doing certain things. I wanted to write this story from both character's perspective, so it is clear that in life, each person will think they are right, that their reasoning was the correct one, when in reality, we are all a little right and a little wrong in everything we do, and it is always worth trying to see things from the other's perspective. We are coming towards the end of this first series, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this journey. As always, thank you so much for everyone who engaged with it, I loved reading ALL of your comments and replies, they really make my day.

(Also, I feel like I am playing my own little game of "how many Taylor Swift and OG Avatar lyrics/quotes/references I can reasonably fit in a story without it being obnoxious" and I can't tell if I'm winning or not.)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

You registered the girl asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t see in front of you, the entire room spinning like the inside of a mirrorball. You felt your body rise from where it was sat next to Neteyam’s, and shakily made your way out. Neteyam’s mate. Neteyam’s mate was next to you, asking you if you need help. It all got too much, and you lunged your body forwards and threw up on the ground next to your tent. You were panting, trying to somehow get a grasp on your mind and push the hurt aside, enough so you can see and hear the world around you.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” you manage to blurt out weakly.

You heard more commotion, and faintly made out Jake’s voice and his arm on your shoulder, trying to bring you back to them.

“Neteyam, what the hell happened?”

You didn’t hear Neteyam speak. He was quiet and you were glad. You didn’t want to hear his voice, not now, and not for the rest of your life.

The world came back to focus eventually, and you spit aggressively trying to get rid of the taste of acid in your mouth. You removed Jake’s hand from your back, and left. The thought of speaking or even looking at any of them was too much to bear. You ran, harder than you ever had before, back to where you just came from, the Ikran nest in the village. You immediately recognised your own, beautiful, gold and white, pure, unlike the rest of this world. Neyn (light colours, shades of white)… fitting name, you thought. You made the tsaheylu quickly, and without a second thought, took off.

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE III: DEPRESSION

You had no thoughts as you flew above the forest and made your way towards the general direction of the Hallelujah mountains. You realised you didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t know how you were going to find your way back, but it didn’t matter. Were you even going to ever return? There were no tears, no sadness, just emptiness. The pieces of your heart broke so finely they turned into dust, blown away in the wind of the night. Eventually you found the mountains, easy enough to spot, even in the darkness, the fluorescent flora marking the territory with an easy-to-see glow. You flew like this, for enough time that your lungs were running out of breath and your skin felt battered by the wind, but you kept going. You felt so free, so weightless. There was a calmness to your thoughts that you haven’t felt in years, probably since your mother died.

You saw a distant mountain that looked brighter than the others, and you made your way to it and were amazed to find a little cave in it, bright and colourful, a little piece of heaven on a planet that was heaven in and of itself. Neyn landed softly on the edge of the mountain and you dismounted effortlessly and approached her head, giving her pets on her neck, to which she cooed gently. She was the only friend you had, you realise. You were all alone.

“Neteyam, what happened?”

Neteyam was dragged in the tent by his dad, who was fuming. No matter what feelings his dad was feeling, they couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s anguish and terror. Why the hell was she there? She just had to wait another couple of hours and this would have never happened.

“She was patching my wound up when Tiongli came in the tent, announcing to the world she is my mate. Said mother told her about my injury.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on your mother, boy.” the Sully patriarch’s nose was flared, eyes looking at him intensely with anger and disappointment. Neteyam’s eyes filled with tears, and he felt his heart hurting so much like the gash was there instead of his arm.

“I was going to tell her tonight, dad. After dinner. I was going to tell her everything, and I was going to ask her to be my mate. I was going to come to you both and ask you to undo the engagement. I understand that a year and a half ago I gave up on her, I did it for a reason, I thought there was no future for us, and that we were hurting each other. But things have changed. She has changed. She’s going to be one of the people soon and I want her to be mine.”

“Neteyam, you can’t undo the engagement. You have known Tiongli your whole life, her family’s been expecting this since you were both young. You gave your word before Eywa, son.”

“I love her, dad. Do you understand that? I have loved her all of my life. It killed me having to leave, it killed me knowing there was no future, because she was human. But she’s not just human anymore. I was willing to go through with this for the sake of the village, for the sake of the family and the future, but if there is any chance I can have the love of my life by my side, instead, I will cling on to it for dear life. Mother was betrothed to uncle Tsu’tey, and she gave that up for you. It was done before Eywa, and she didn’t care. Because she loved you and she knew that was enough. She gave up being Tsahik, her birth right, so she can have you. I will not give up on her, dad. Mother wouldn’t have given up on you.”

“I have to find her. I have to make this right.”

You were sprawled on your back, feeling goosebumps form along your limbs from the cold grass. You were staring at the sky, noticing the bright stars you now knew were actually bright death sentences, each of them beautiful and devastating. Will you even still be alive when they come? Will everything you have gone through these few months matter? Will everything you have gone through in this life matter? All the pain, and the hurt, and the grief, just so you can die at 18 from a virus. The universe was cruel, you thought. It was a fitting end, though. Meaningless and daft, like your entire life was. Born on a planet you were not made to be able to survive on, your real planet a long-forsaken dream you will never experience for yourself, surrounded by nature that could kill you in an instant. Alone, never fitting anywhere, orphaned by human diseases: cancer and greed. Left to fend for yourself when you were just ten, learning to navigate a life that only seemed to want to clobber you to the ground whenever you thought you finally could stand up again.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel, not anymore. You wanted to fight for something, for the chance at life, or at retribution, or at love. You were dying and Neteyam killed whatever hope remained in you. They all did. Norm, Max, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider, all accomplices, all aware, all willing to lie to your face for weeks with no remorse. You thought you were good at spotting liars, now you just knew how little you knew about everything.

The pain in your soul mirrored the one in your body, as you felt the morphine wearing off and your human body struggling to keep the mind steady for the link. You had to bear it, because this pain was more manageable than the one you knew waited for you in your human form, when you would be alone in a dark room with only your nightmares to keep you company.

With a sigh and a peer up at the sky, you hoped whatever comes after death was better than the hell you’ve lived in the majority of this life.

Neteyam waited the whole night in your tent, waited for you to come back, becoming increasingly worried as the hours passed and you didn’t show. He wanted to go and look for you, but knew that as soon as you got on your ikran, the chances of finding you were thin. He would go to the lab as soon as dawn broke, but for now, he was praying that you would just burst through the tent opening so he can talk you down.

He fucked up, badly. He cringed at the thought of how much he seemed to not be able to get anything right when it comes to you. Everything he did or didn’t do ended up hurting you more, the only thing he didn’t want, the only thing in the world he continuously tried to avoid.

He was consoled by the fact that he would have a lifetime to make it up to you. He will not give up trying, no matter how long, no matter how hard, he was determined to win you back and keep you, forever.

As you made it back to your human body in the early hours of the morning, you regretted waiting so long, as your body was in indescribable agony, the likes with which you didn’t know was possible for the human body to ever experience. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, you were sweating bullets and every bone and muscle in your body throbbed with enough intensity to make it almost impossible for you to get up from the pod. Everyone must be asleep at this hour, you thought. You had to make it to your bed, you had to get at least a couple of hours of rest if you were going to live to see another day. As if you were taking the Iknimaya again, you made your way form the lab to the medical ward and injected another dose of the morphine in your system. There was no going back now, you were too far down the rabbit hole to stop and why put yourself through more unnecessary pain when this will all be over in a few days anyway?

You crashed in your room for a few hours and quickly made your way back to the pod before anyone else was there to talk to. You started the linkpod by yourself and got in without hesitation.

Waking up in your Avatar body was a strange experience, as you were still in the Hallelujah mountains where you fell asleep last night. Neyn did not leave you, you noted, and she was peacefully resting next to you, cooing softly in her sleep.

“Hey, beautiful girl. Time to go back. It would be useful if you knew the way.” you pet her gently, trying not to disturb her. She woke up and pushed her snoot in your chest, and you felt it swell for this animal that you had an unbreakable bond with; you were grateful you had done the Iknimaya and at least gained a life companion from that horrible day.

As suspected, Neyn knew where to take you, and in about an hour you made it back to the village. You dreaded it, dreaded the inevitable interaction, but you knew you had to go back at some point and inform them of your whereabouts.

It was still early, so the village wasn’t quite bustling with energy yet. You quietly made it back to your tent, which you found empty. You grabbed your bow and arrows, knife and gun and a couple extra magazines. You didn’t know if you were going to be back. As you were making your way out, your head bumped into a large, muscular chest.

Fuck.

“Where the hell were you all night, kid? None of us slept a wink last night worrying.”

“Out.”

“What the hell do you mean out? Out where? You leave without telling, you don’t come back the whole night, do you have a fucking death wish?”

You laughed at the irony of his words. He caught your arm as you were walking away and pulled you back forcefully so you can face him.

“You are not going anywhere.”

“Let go.” Jake raised a brow at your words. He was not used to being spoken this way, you realise.

“How long?”

His grasp on you loosened, and his gaze softened when you peered up at him through eyelashes to which tears clung.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Kid…”

“How fucking long, Jake?”

He let go of your arm at your curse, which had never been directed at him before.

“Watch your tone, kid.”

“You made me feel like shit for learning to shoot guns without you. It made you feel bad, right? Knowing I purposefully left you out of something you could have been useful at, something we could have bonded over? I hurt you, by pushing you and Neytiri away for so many years, and I am sorry for that, but you have never, in your life, tried to understand me. So you gave me shit about something you didn’t understand, and I hurt so much inside at the thought of all I gave away by my reluctance to trust, to love, to let people in. So I changed. I let you in. I was here, everyday, acting like a perfect little daughter for you, the daughter I knew you wanted. Strong, capable, skilled. I let Neytiri in. I started calling her mum in my dreams, and although the guilt for my own mother gnawed at my insides silently, I was also relived, to finally have a family again, or for the first time.

You made me love you and break down these carefully constructed walls so you can be comfortable and sleep well at night for not breaking your promise my mum, and then you fucking stabbed me in the back.

I trusted you, Jake. You fucking lied to my face for months. Every time I asked where Neteyam was at dinners and you told me he was practicing, every day you plotted to get me out of the village as early morning as humanly possible and get me back after everyone else was fast asleep, I knew it in my heart you were lying, but you were all so good at it, I thought I was going crazy. But no, it was all a carefully planned ruse to not find out you made me come here and be part of the people just to watch the man I love belong to someone else without even a chance to decide for myself how to feel about it.”

The fight brought out the rest of the Sully family out of their tent, and they were all watching you now, concern and sadness displayed across their beautiful faces.

“You all lied to me. Looked me in the fucking eyes and lied to me, every day, multiple times a day. You were supposed to be my family.

The humans are coming. I will be here. I will stand and fight, you know I will. I will be your little soldier, and be who you made me into.

But I want to make this perfectly clear. As far as I am concerned, you and I, we are done. I am done.” You looked at every Sully one last time, and left.

You were no longer delightfully numb, but burning with anger and earth-shattering sorrow as you stalked away from the village, leaving everything behind. Your eyes were blurry with endless tears, mourning this life and this family that you managed to gain and lose within the span of a few weeks, reeling from the wounds within your heart that never had a chance to mend before being opened again, over and over. You didn’t want to go back to the lab, knowing Neteyam was most likely looking for you there. You couldn’t go to the clearing for the same reason. You had no home anymore, no place in this world, once again. You could only think of one place to go, one place where no one would ever look for you.

Your knees were shaking furiously as you walked, and you were scared of another flashback that you would have to ride out by yourself, but it never came. You just walked, crying and panting from all the pain the last 24 hours brought, and eventually you made it to a place you never thought you would ever see again. The clearing looked peaceful, with rays of light penetrating through tree branches, creating Mandalas on the ground that you found yourself tracing with your eyes.

In the corner, lay a decrepit exo suit, and you made your way to it, settling on the ground next to it. You knew now this exo suit belonged to your dad, and you removed some vines that grew on top of his name, Gideon Barlowe. A beautiful name, you thought, and your mind wandered to the past, a past way before you were even born, and wondered what your grandparents did back on Earth. Did they encourage their son to leave his own planet in pursuit of planetary colonisation, monetary gain and murderous acts? Did they know? Did he know? Was he like that his whole life, or did he start off fighting the good fight, and was corrupted by the jagged and monstrous lifestyle? You wondered if this was what he has always dreamt of doing, or he had secret dreams of being a painter, or a gardener. Did he play guitar, too? You snored sometimes, did you get that from him? You had so many questions for this man you shared half your DNA with, but have never met. For the man that died on a planet far away from home, alone, with no one to mourn him.

Was that going to be you? Would Neteyam remember you in 20 years, when he would tell stories about his childhood to his kids, when he remembered the good old times? Would you get a Na’vi send off? Or were you going to be buried somewhere in the forest, for someone to stumble upon in a distant future you would no longer be a part of?

Sobbing uncontrollably, you heard yourself speak in between wails. “Why am I here? Great Mother, please tell me there is more to this life, there is more to life than this, because I cannot do this anymore. I am so tired. I have tried to keep going my whole life, even when I wanted nothing more than to cease to exist, blissfully collapse in an ether where I didn’t have to feel anything anymore. I kept going because I wanted to make my mum proud, I wanted to honour the body and life she has given me. I am trying so hard, but I am really fucking tired.”

A little past eclipse, you arrived at the lab, and used the keycard you remembered to bring with you. You hoped Neteyam would be gone by now, in case he was trying to find you here. You made your way through the hub and into your bedroom, which looked tiny in your Avatar body. You realise how uncomfortable it must have been for him to be here so often, then cursed your brain for making you think about such things. Your Avatar body needed a bed, so you walked slowly to where the other Avatar bodies usually were laid to rest for the night. There should be an empty space where your mum or Grace used to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to wake up back in the linkpod, as with most nights recently, you were barely able to maintain the neurolink by the time evening came.

Max was waiting for you. “Neteyam came by. He’s been looking for you, said you left the village yesterday and didn’t come back. He was worried sick.”

You didn’t answer him, as you slowly got out of the pod and tried to steady your feet on the ground, harder than it seemed when the entire room was spinning around you.

“What happened?”

“The mate you all hid from me for weeks came announcing herself in my tent as we were just about to kiss.”

“Any other questions?”

You didn’t wait for a response before you made your way out of the room, stalking towards the medical ward.

As you retired to your room for the night, you noted the morphine was not working as well as used to anymore. You sat on the bed, looking at the arm that was getting blue at the amount of needle holes it had, and you knew then you didn’t have much time left. Maybe a couple of days. A couple more days of this. And then it would finally be over. You gave it a fair shot, this life thing. You couldn’t say you felt particularly sad at the thought of it ending. You pressed play on your vintage record player and let yourself sleep.

“Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you, til my dying day”

You spent the next 2 days in a haze, drugged out of your mind, waking up before eclipse and leaving to your dad’s grave and sleeping in the woods until the night, barely able to make it on your own two feet. Even in your human body, Neyn recognised you, and stood by you, which gave you some peace of mind. You made sure to bring her fruits from the lab, and she cooed warmly as she settled next to you.

When you made your way back that night, Norm was waiting.

“Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you for 3 fucking days.”

You removed your oxygen mask and made your way to the room, where he followed you. You were in so much pain you couldn’t see straight.

“I am talking to you!” he took you by your arm and spun you around. The motion made you instantly sick, and you struggled to keep down the fruits you shared with your ikran.

“Let go of me, Norm.” you had no strength in your body anymore, so it took you awhile to shake him off.

“You look like shit. What did you do?”

You managed to make it to the bathroom, where you shut the door behind you and got in the shower. Fortunately, for you or him, you couldn’t tell, Norm was gone when you came out.

The next morning, you woke up desperately searching for pain relief and didn’t know if you were going to be able to make it to the ward before your knees would collapse on themselves. You were shaking and dizzy, out of your mind with agony and walking to the bathroom felt like the most intensive workout you have ever done. You peered up at yourself in the mirror and were scared at the eyes watching you, rabid and wild, like an injured animal waiting to lash out. It was too much for you to bear, and before you could even think or rationalise, you felt your fingers curl into a fist and make contact with the cold glass of the mirror, shattering in dozens of pieces, and it made you weirdly happy to have a visual representation of how your soul felt. The instant pain of the all the wounds the smash caused also gave you a weird sense of euphoria, and you realised it was taking away from the pain in the rest of the body, which was only able to focus on one agonising sensation at a time. This felt like a kiss by comparison, and you knew then you could go on a little longer, you could continue with the rest of the day.

Norm came bursting through the door at the loud crash.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

You came out of your bathroom, blood dripping all over the floor as you made your way to the bed, sitting down on it.

“Leave, Norm.”

“What?”

“Leave.”

“What the hell has gotten into you recently. you are rude and brash, and you hurt people’s feelings with no remorse. This isn’t you.”

“What the hell do you know about me, Norm?” you say, laughing bitterly.

“Ace, stop.”

“You don’t know anything, Norm.” you kept going, the fury and hurt getting the best of you, once again, your need to destroy everything in your path as a way to cope with your own heartbreak winning by a landslide.     

“Did you know I have needed pills to sleep and to live a normal day-to-day life since I was 13? I have been slowly depleting our sleeping pill and benzodiazepines inventory and replacing it with multivitamin pills I found in one of the drawers. I mean thank God none of you suffer from anxiety or panic disorder or need help sleeping cause I would have been busted so long ago.”

You laughed mockingly at his shocked face, jaw so close the floor now you could trip on it on your way out.

“Did you know I am about a week and a half away from dying after I accidentally smashed a vial of infected blood and got it in my mouth?”

You stand corrected, you think now his jaw was close enough to the floor to trip on it.

“Did you know I have upgraded from a pill addiction to a full blown opioid addiction in order to not collapse on the floor in excruciating pain because of the way this virus is eating at my insides? Yeah, yeah, that’s right. We’re almost out of a whole vial of morphine after I injected it in my veins every day for a while now.”

He had no words. “That’s about right.”

“I do know one thing you do know, though. You know that Neteyam had his mate announcement ceremony that day I took off. You were there to see the two love birds announce their love and pledge their commitment to each other the one day I was not there. And that’s why you were acting shifty. You know about that. And somehow you forgot to tell me, every day, for weeks. How does that work out, Norm, hmm?”

“I felt so bad for snapping at you a couple of days ago. I felt like a horrible fucking person for hurting your feelings. I should have been watching my back, instead.”

You got up from your bed and started walking towards the door.

“If I were you I would not linger in a room with poisoned blood dripping on the floor for too long.”

You found some paper towels at the side of your bed and wrapped them around your bleeding, pained hand, and with that, you left.

After you upped the morphine you usually took, you went to the lab and prepped a hood for some more experiments. Work was a good way to get your mind off things, to mindlessly do something that had a purpose other than driving you to the brink of insanity.

You heard a loud banging noise coming from the entrance, and you had a sneaking suspicion you knew who it was. You heard Norm open the door.

“Is she here?”

“Yeah, but Neteyam, I think you should go. She’s not in a good place, and I really don’t think doing this will end well for either of you.”

“I don’t care, I have to talk to her, I have been looking for her for 3 fucking days.”

You heard the door to the lab slide open and hissed at the man you knew would be trying to come in, realising hissing in a human body doesn’t have nearly the same effect.

“Get the fuck out, Neteyam. This is a sterile room.”

“I don’t fucking care about the room, Atan. Where the fuck have you been? Please come out so we can talk.”

You threw your head back and laughed, really laughed.

“You really are delusional if you think there is any way in heaven and hell I would want to hear anything you have got to say. The time for talking was a couple months ago, Neteyam. The time for talking was the first day I got my Avatar body, where in addendum to telling me you own my ass now, you could have also sprinkled in the fact your are now mated with someone else.”

“I am not mated with anyone, for fuck’s sake. Just come out so we can talk, please. I will explain everything, please!”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, for the first time since that day. He looked exhausted, anguished. Deep purple bags under his eyes, that were burning red where the whites should be. He has been crying. Good, you thought. He looked panicked and miserable and desperate for you to give him the time of day, for you to allow him to explain the unexplainable.

You sighed and your heart constricted in pain. Neteyam will not be happy until there was nothing left of you, until he took everything from you. At the same time, you were curious, morbidly curious as to what has actually happened, what led to this moment. You knew he loved you. You knew that much, but it didn’t seem to matter in this moment, as he broke your heart for what felt like the thousandth time in your short life.

“Go to the clearing, I’ll come when I’m ready.”

You half considered just leaving him there to wait, abandoning him just he did to you. You finished splitting your cells and treating them, and in about an hour, you went into the linkpod and took your Avatar for a walk in the woods. You reached the clearing shortly, as it was close enough that even child you could do it without getting too far away from the building.

You saw him standing there, his back turned to you and his legs submerged in the river that was rushing violently downstream. It was a cold day, and rain was trickling down your body like shivers from a kiss. There was tension in the air, and you knew a storm was coming. You could practically feel the charge in the atmosphere, and were expecting thunder to start any minute now, ready to mirror the agony in your soul.

“I’m here.”

He didn’t speak for a while. Just stood looking at the river, deep in thought.

“So many of our moments throughout the years happened here. Remember when I taught you to swim in the river? Now, in retrospective, that was a bad idea since the water kept taking you away, to the point I had to wait at the end so I could catch you in my arms, like you were a baby.”

You winced at the memory.  You thought you could do this. You felt numb in that lab, numb on the way here, but as soon as your eyes focused on him, tears starting pooling in your eyes and pain overtook your body, that you tried to counteract by wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. He’s caused you so much hurt, so much grief in the years he’s known you. But he was also at the forefront of most of your happiest memories. You could fill endless manuscripts with the beauty of his love, that shone so brightly over you your whole life. He was the light in all the darkness and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived this journey without him.

That is why this hurt so much, why your body was convulsing on itself in insurmountable grief. And also why you owed him this much. Owed him this conversation, and the right to explain his point of view, that you were still unfamiliar with.

“I remember. I remember even at the time, thinking this was a good metaphor for our relationship. Life kept sweeping me off my feet, but you were always there to catch me, before it could take me away. I had so much faith in you back then, you were a fact of life, like the eclipse. You were the one person in this world I thought would never hurt me.”

“Fuck, Y/N, all I did before I left is hurt you.”

“What are you talking about?” You were confused at the turn this conversation took. What did he mean? You couldn’t recall a single time Neteyam hurt you before you left. Sure, you would fight and bicker sometimes, but it was a normal part of any relationship, you thought. And he always made it up to you, would always come to the lab and sit with you with flowers he collected or trinkets he found in the woods, always holding you and kissing your forehead to make sure you were over it before he had to leave. Fighting with him was ironically one of your favourite things, because you knew the aftermath was the closest you ever felt to being in heaven.

“I almost fucking killed you. Or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how I manipulated you into getting on top of an ikran when you were just a 13 year old human and almost watched you die? Have you forgotten I took you to the woods and raced you to your dad’s remains? I was a walking magnet for disasters in your life and I was tired, so fucking tired of watching your life fall apart all around me. I had to watch you learn to walk again, limp because of my actions, for years. I had to pull you out of flashbacks and nightmares you developed because of ME. You were always fine in the woods with Lo’ak or Kiri, but everything bad that has happened to you happened around me.”

He was crying, panting and angry, at himself or you or the universe, you couldn’t tell.

“I thought that if I left, you would be ok. I just wanted to protect you. My whole life, all I have wanted was for you to be ok. But it seems no matter what I do, I keep fucking up.”

You had no words to speak as you lay there, listening to him letting you in to a secret you have spent so many months agonising over. The reason for his departure haunted you for a year and a half, even when you refused to think about him, about it, it was there, constantly emerging from the depths of your subconsciousness, taunting you in your dreams. Why? Why? Why?

Because he wanted to protect you?

You didn’t have time to process all of this new information, before he continued.

“The night you found your dad, I was shaken to my core, in a way I have never truly been before. I was so heartbroken, for you and for myself, for knowing this will haunt you for the rest of your life. I went home and mother found me, and told me that maybe I can’t help you in the way I’ve always wanted. That maybe it’s better for you that I remove myself for a while and leave you room to breathe and heal. So I did. It took me a long time to get the strength to do it. Every time I thought today is the day, I would see you and you would smile at me, and we would sit on your bed and you would read to me or play me songs or just be there, just you and me, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You were everything to me, my light in all the darkness.

A year later, you sang me the song and you were smiling at me singing it, and I knew you were confessing feelings we have both felt for years and couldn’t say out loud. And I knew that if I stayed, whatever we had would escalate past the point of no return. If I stayed, that would be it. And that’s when I decided. I thought I was doing us both a favour. I knew it would hurt you, just as much as it hurt me, but I thought the pain would subside in time.”

You were crying now, you realised, tears falling silently and effortlessly down your face, with no intention to ever stop, instantly washed away by the pouring rain. There were no sounds, no sobs or wails, or panted breaths, just the sounds of rain and hopeless, soft cries and muffled sniffles, for the man in front of you, for all that you have lost, for the past you shared and the future that you would never have.

He got up from where he stood and turned around to face you. He walked towards you until he was so close to you could feel his breath on your face. His stare made goosebumps appear on your entire body, so earnest and desperate, so full of intensity for the words he was trying to convey to you.

“It didn’t.” He said, at the same time you thought the same words in your mind.

“A few years ago, mother and father told me I would one day have to find a mate. They knew and I knew it was expected of me, but I always put it off, so they eventually dropped it. I learnt later they both knew about us, so they didn’t push me into anything until they felt I was ready. A few months after they realised I decided to leave, they started bringing it up again. I didn’t want to hear it, but they said it was time, as I had refused for years longer than what was acceptable in the clan. I met with so many girls, all from good families, all healers in training, all wrong. Beautiful girls, smart girls, skilled healers and singers, and it was like looking at the grey walls of your lab. I felt nothing, I felt sick just thinking about it, like just the thought would be betraying the memory of our bond. Eventually, I told them they can decide. Grandma can decide whatever she thinks is best, and, as Tsahik, I would listen to her voice and wisdom, and do my duty to the clan. She chose Tiongli. I knew her growing up, and we were friendly, so I tried to make an effort. I would go to her tent, and she would show me her training sometimes, I would let her heal my wounds and imagined it was your hands touching me instead. I visited her family and paid my respects, and had dinner with them whenever they invited me. I hoped in time, I could learn to care for her, to lessen the distaste in my mouth whenever my family or the clan talked about the future, about the ceremony, about the life I was supposed to lead that I hated even the thought of.

And then, one day, my dad sent me to get Lo’ak from the lab. I was so scared of knowing I would have to see you again. It had been so long, and so many feelings gnawed at me on the walk there, terror and anxiety, guilt and longing. But then I saw you, and there was only one feeling: love. Like no time had passed at all. I knew then I was going to love you for the rest of my life, and that will never change. That was my fact of life, my eclipse.”

He slowly took your face in his hands, and his thumb was caressing your cheek trying to wipe the tears and raindrops that were falling mercilessly. You saw his face slowly getting closer to yours, and you knew you should pull away, you should remove yourself from his grasp before the kiss was going to remove the last ounce of happiness from you. You knew what you had to do, knew that no matter what information or answers or justifications he would give you today, they wouldn’t matter. You should pull away, because there is no future, no hope. But you couldn’t. You didn’t know what waited for you in the afterlife, but if there was any chance you would have your memories, you wanted this kiss to haunt you forever, to remind you of the life you left behind.

His lips touched yours so gently, it felt like a whisper. Like a hug, tender and warm, it was so different than your first kiss. Tears were still running down your face as your lips moved, entangled with his and begging for more. Your hands went to his chest, to his neck, to his back, just touching him, trying to memorise his body, this feeling. You wanted so much more, you wanted to be his, you wanted to feel him, you wanted him to own you, like he did your heart, which has been his your entire life and will still be his after your death.

You were a mess of wet tangled limbs and panted breaths by the end, and eventually, he broke the kiss to look at you through teary eyes.

“I love you, I will always love you. I am so sorry.”

“I love you, too.”

“But this doesn’t change anything, Neteyam.”

“Thank you, for finally telling me why you left. For giving me some closure for something that has plagued me for so long, it became a constant part of my nightmares. Thank you for having my best interest at heart; it couldn’t have been easy to leave, if you didn’t want to, it took a strong heart to do something that hurt you for what you thought was the lesser evil. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“You left me. You broke me. And you never gave me a chance to make my own decisions. To figure out for myself what was the path forward. I have NEVER blamed you for my misfortunes. The ikran ride is still a beautiful memory to me. You made it a beautiful memory. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, we probably would have both died at the hands of Toruk. You saved my life, Neteyam. You carried me home and stayed with me while I was having surgery, you stayed with me after, while I recovered. You pulled me out of the worst panic attack I have ever had when I found my dad, and you rode out so many of my flashbacks, I have lost count. You weren’t the cause or the common denominator of these events, I was. I am the one plagued by misfortune and hurt and death. Not you. And if you tell me you had to leave to save your own peace of mind, I would respect that. I don’t know anyone in this world who can take this, take me and all the shit that follows me everywhere I go. I don’t blame you.

But if you tell me that you did this for me, that I can’t accept. I didn’t ask for any of this. You gave me no choice, and no say in this relationship, in our shared life. You just left. I deserved better than that. And I deserved better than to find out about a mate after months of lies and manipulation and deceit. I don’t care. I don’t care if you are going to say that you didn’t want it, or you were going to undo it, or that you’ve always loved me and never her. I don’t care. You lied to me, you manipulated me. You accused me of fucking your brother as you were promised to another woman that you hid from me for months. I do blame you for that, and I will never be able to forgive you.”

“Please, Atan…I will tell her no. I will tell her -.” he was sobbing now, his hands still on your face, pleading.

“No.” you slowly took his hands in yours and removed them from your face.

“I think you should do it, Neteyam. She is a good girl, she will make a good Tsahik, and a good mate. Your mother was right, there is no future here - there never was. I love you, so much. But I think you have broken my heart one too many times. I am done.”

You turned your back and walked away from him and the life that was lost - forever.

You were completely soaked when you arrived in the lab, and you went straight to the Avatar laying room and cried. Cried until it felt like no more tears could possibly come out of you. You cried yourself to sleep and then cried in the pod, on the way to your bedroom, and in bed until your human body eventually collapsed from exhaustion. You cried in your dreams, in which Neteyam was kissing you and touching you, doing all the things you were silently begging him to in your mind just a few hours ago.

Eventually, nightfall came, and you had to get up to do the rest of your experiments and top up your analgesic. Ironically enough, you were making real progress on your work. You found a combination therapy that was showing incredible potential in slowing the virus down. It wasn’t enough to stop and eradicate it, but it was enough to give people more time and hopefully give the scientists more time to find a cure. It wouldn’t help you, but maybe you could still help others.

At some paint through the night, as you were making up some reagents, Norm bursts through the door holding a bunch of equipment and some pills, you realise. He puts them down on the bench behind you and speaks.

“Right, stop whatever you are doing, right now.”

“I am in the middle of something.”

“I don’t fucking care. Stop, now.”

You were taken aback at his words and attitude. Norm never got mad, or lost his composure. He was so most well balanced person you knew.

You put the pipette gun down and turned around to face him.

“I still need to adjust the pH on this.”

He ignored you while he prepared the myriad of little gadgets he brought with him. He motioned for you to take off your lab coat, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but did as you were told regardless. You were too tired to argue anymore.

He raised the sleeves of your top until they couldn’t go any further up your arm and put a blood pressure monitor on you. You felt tension as its sleeve tightened around you painfully, but eventually it gave out with a puff, and you heard beeping as the machine finished its reading. You looked to your right where the monitor lay, and saw red lights flashing, letting Norm know your blood pressure and pulse were dangerously low. His eyes widened slightly at the sight, but he held his composure, removing the gadget from around your arm and putting it away. He then read your oxygen levels, which you saw were constantly dabbling between 89 and 90%. Not good, you thought. No wonder you could barely breathe anymore. Norm cursed silently under his breath, trying to not let you see him, but if there was one thing you were good at, it’s reading people. Well, you thought you were, at least.

“Did you do any tests on your blood? How is your complete blood count looking?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why the fuck not, Ace? It’s not like you don’t know how to do it.”

He was angry, really angry. You’ve never seen Norm this angry, you’ve never seen Norm acting this way towards you.

You just shrugged. With a huff of annoyance, he took your arm and prepared a needle and syringe to collect some blood. He gulped and you could see tears forming in his eyes when he looked at the violet bruises and needle holes that were plastered along the length of your brachial vein.

“Just didn’t get around to it.”

“You didn’t - Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“What medicine have you been taking? Did you take the Relenta, or the combination therapy we have been working on?”

“Neither.”

You swear you saw Norm’s entire body enter a catatonic state and he turned so red you were worried he was going to release steam out of his ears.

“You have been sick for a month and did not take anything, none of the treatments we have been working on?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, finding comfort in the pattern of the tiles on the floor.

“I can’t believe you. I didn’t peg you for someone who would just throw their life away meaninglessly. Your mum had to die because we didn’t have a way to treat her illness, and here we are, with a solution that YOU came up with for your own illness, and you will just not even try?”

You were quiet, not really having a way to rebut his questions.

“Fine. We will start you on the combination treatment tonight and take it from there. There’s other things we haven’t tried yet and I’m sure -“

“NO.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m not letting you fucking die.”

“Why must you always fucking try to fix everything, Norm? Some things can’t be fixed. I don’t want the fucking pills. I am done. I want this to be done.”

“So you’ll just die? Is that what you’re saying? You want to die, and not even fucking TRY to see if there is more to this life. Goddamn it, Y/N. I thought having the Avatar would help you realise life is worth living, there’s beauty in this world beyond the walls of this lab. You got your first kill, you did the Iknimaya, you’re going to become one of the people. Don’t you want to see what your future holds? Don’t you want to live to see yourself grow up? Fall in love, start a family. There are more guys in this world than just Neteyam.”

You gave Norm a dirty look and got out of the lab.

Neteyam felt his whole body reel after your conversation. It didn’t change anything, he thought bitterly. He thought explaining it to you, allowing to see that he had good reasons for his actions would allow you to forgive him, to at least allow him the opportunity to make it up to you through time. You left, just like he had so long ago, but there was a finality to you that he didn’t feel then. Back then, he always had hope that a miracle would still be possible, one in which you got an Avatar, healed and loved him, forever. He wanted to love you forever, but his apology and explanations were not enough.

He lost you, again.

He spent the night flying on his Ikran, just flying and letting the rain soak his thoughts and hurt away. He just wanted to disappear. He wanted the rain to melt his bones until there was nothing left of him but the memory of happier times.

In the early hours of the morning, he made it back to the village, trying to hide his cried out eyes and calamitous grief. He was dreading having to talk to his parents, to explain to them what happened, to have to go through with Tiongli and this future he didn’t want and will have to suffer through for the rest of his life. He didn’t have time to worry about it too much though, because, as he managed to get to the tent’s entrance, he heard Norm’s voice and his dad’s, intertwined with his grandma’s voice rising above them.

“It won’t work. Eywa will not allow her to come back.”

“Why not? She has taken her Iknimaya, she has completed her kills, she has spent her entire life in the village’s service, trying to help the best way she knew how. If she doesn’t deserve this, who does?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it. It’s that she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want this, Norm. The Great Mother will not transfer the conscience of someone with no future.”

“But maybe if this happened, she will realise that she wants to live. Once she’s rid herself of her weak body, of this disease, maybe she will -“

“The Great Mother’s word is final. She will die, because she wants to die.”

Mo’at’s voice rang in his ears so hard he thought his eardrums would pop.

She doesn’t want it.

She will die.

What were they talking about? Who would die?

No… it couldn’t be. No, the Great Mother wouldn’t be so cruel.

He didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation, running as fast as his feet could carry him back to the lab. He reached soon enough, he was faster than most other people in the village, and started knocking on the door of the lab with all his might.

“Y/N, OPEN UP, I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE!”

Eventually, Max came to the door, through which Neteyam burst without consideration for the tiny human next to him.

“She’s not in, Neteyam. She left before any of us had a chance to say anything.”

“Was she in her Avatar body?”

“No, the body is in the den where they sleep.”

He didn’t bother thanking the man, as he turned on his heel and started running again. She was there, had to be.

It was still raining, the clouds relentless as they released drops that poured gently down his face and body, and Neteyam thought the Great mother was crying, mourning the love being washed away like a pebble in the river of the clearing, just like he was.

You were there, of course you were. A current shocked Neteyam at the sight of you. This was the first time he has seen your human body in months, and he found it hard to reconcile the image of you he has known all his life with this current one. You were incredibly thin, so thin, whereas a few months ago he could trace your muscles, he could now trace your bones. You were pale, almost ashen, and the hair that he once spent so long admiring was now brittle and dull, obvious even as it was, wet and clinging to your back. You looked lifeless. He felt a lump form in his throat and tears pool in his eyes that were still not dry from all the pain this day has brought.

You didn’t notice him yet, your human ears much less sensitive than your Avatar, so you were just sitting on the riverbank with your chin resting on your knees, which were brought to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. You were looking at the water, and it was like you weren’t actually there. You were in your own world, far from here, from this hurt.

“I was going to ask if it was true, what I heard Norm talk about in the tent today, but I think you’ve answered my question.”

Neteyam saw you flinch, and it felt like even that brought your weak frame pain. You were trembling when you looked at him, and your face made his own drop in shock. Your beautiful features, the blush in your cheeks, the glimmer in your eye, the pink of your lips, your animated expressions or raised eyebrows, were all gone. Your eyes looked glossed over and numb, your face looked ghostly and sunken, and Neteyam swore he could trace every blood vessel on your forehead and neck. The sight of you made whatever happiness or hope he had left dissolve and trickle down his bones, until it reached the ground where it was eventually buried, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think I could make myself any clearer, Neteyam.”

“tell me it isn’t true. Tell me he’s lying; he’s making it up.”

“What part?”

“All of it.” Neteyam was angry now, trying to contain the temper rising in his chest.

“Tell me you’re not dying.”

“Norm has a big fucking mouth.”

“Can you for once in your fucking life just answer a question? This is fucking serious!”

You winced at his words, then struggled to get up, but did eventually and fully face him. The state of you hit him like bullets, piercing and scraping at his every organ, leaving bleeding wounds behind.

“It’s true”.

Crack, crack, crack. 

“When?”

“The night you gave me the guitar. I was so busy being in love with you I forgot to put the proper protection on, and I smashed a bottle of infected blood. It got in my mouth, in my nose.”

“I thought you were working on a cure.”

“Haven’t found it yet.”

“But you said you have something that kind of works, something to give people more time.”

“I’m human, it doesn’t work that way for us.”

“So, you’ve tried.”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, just staring at the ground in front of you, somewhere next to Neteyam’s feet.

“Tell me you have fucking tried.”

It thundered aggressively as Neteyam said that, and he saw you once again tremble at the loud sound. You have never been a jumpy person. You were the bravest person he knew. You were the strongest person he knew. It was unspeakable having to watch you now, sitting meekly in front of him, when just a few days ago you took the Iknimaya, taking the climb to the toughest tests known to the Omatikaya, doing it like it was nothing, just another day for you. To know that this is what was hiding underneath, this is what you hid from all of them, made him both impossibly miserable and strikingly enraged at the same time.

“TELL ME YOU HAVE TRIED.”

“NO, OKAY?? NO, I HAVEN’T FUCKING TRIED.” You were sobbing now, your tears washed away by the rain and wind as soon as they fell down your cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because I am tired. I want this to end.”

“I thought you were happy. I thought you were better. You seemed better in the Avatar.”

“I was better… in the Avatar. Because that wasn’t my life. That was just a beautiful dream, while my life was the never-ending nightmare. It was easy to pretend in that body. It was easy to be the version of myself everybody wanted me to be. But I have to live with the real me every night. And I don’t want to do it anymore.” The more you cried, the more Neteyam’s blood boiled in his veins.

“That’s such fucking bullshit.”

“You know what I think?”

“I think dying is fucking easy. It’s your easy way out.”

You looked up at his much larger frame incredulously, and he saw how your mood was starting to mirror his own.

“What did you just say? You think this is fucking easy for me?”

“Yes, I think it is. I think all you’ve done since your mum has died is take the easy way out. Put everything and everyone in your little bottom desk drawer, keeping everyone at a distance. Do you know how much mother and father suffered every time you refused to come out, to come to the village? My mother cried herself to sleep at the thought of you alone in that lab, at the thought that you preferred that soulless, empty place to her, to us. Did you know that?

You have not once opened that drawer, not once dealt with anything. All you do is numb yourself down, pretend you are fine and the issues you have suffered through do not exist. Well guess fucking what, Atan? They exist. And until you deal with that pain and let it pass over you and through you, you will always take the easy way out.

You have made me feel like the worst person in the world, for leaving, for lying to you. But what the fuck have you done, huh? You lied to me about dying, for weeks! About dying! What, was I supposed to find you dead one day and that was it? That was what I deserved from you, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you? You said I took your choice away. You wouldn’t have even given me a choice to say goodbye to the love of my life before you fucking died!

I left you for a year because I wanted to protect you, you are leaving permanently because you refuse to fucking deal with the pain and hurt I know you feel deep down inside. You had a choice. You could have come to the many people who love you, love you unconditionally, and told us, and let us in, and let us help you. You could have gotten help, taken the pills, fight your damn hardest to make this work, to find a cure, for the life your mum gave you, the life she would have to watch you throw away. You have a choice now. To want to live, to want to fight through this and come out the other side a new, better person. To let me love you, let people love you. To do the consciousness transfer and be with me, and be happy, forever. And you’re choosing this.

You are a coward.”

Neteyam turned on his heel and walked away, before he got a chance to see you collapse on the ground, giving your last few breaths in the place he used to imagine both of your children laying in his arms peacefully while you sang them to sleep.

Tag list (I hope I didn't miss anyone, thank you so much for asking to be tagged <3): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties

[darklinaforever]

And now Harwin and Rhaewin stans are trying to make it seem like GRRM has confirmed that Rhaenyra is in love with Harwin.

In what universe did this supposedly happen ? 😂

Under pretext that GRRM would have said it there' enough material between Harwin and Rhaenyra to write and entire story, and that this statement seemingly speaks for itself that Rhaenyra was in love with Harwin ? (even if in fact I don't see the connection ?) But no, GRRM not said there's enough material between Harwin and Rhaenyra to write an entire story. The truth is that GRRM talk about the story of Rhaenyra, Laenor and Harwin, the situation that all 3 of them were in. Not just Harwin and Rhaenyra.

I remind you that GRRM wrote a Rhaenyra who stops having children with Harwin at exactly the same time as Daemon returning to Westeros, and that she was most likely pregnant by Aegon III before Harwin's death.

Oh yes, she was definitely so in love of Harwin... 🙄

When you write a true romance, you're not going to make your couple suddenly stop having children (after the first 3 they had) when the first guy the girl wanted to marry comes back and gets pregnant by that same guy before that the father of your other 3 children dies, and that you finally marry the guy you originally wanted and are pregnant with, before the basic grieving period is over.

And no, for go back to HOTD, just because Rhaenyra is sad that Harwin died in 1x07 doesn't mean she was necessarily in love with him.

She had the guy for years by her side who brought her a little happiness in a shitty life, who was faithful to her, feel her desire, and became the father of her children, obviously she's going to be sad that he's dead !

And no, even when she tells Daemon that they both lost the people they loved, that doesn't necessarily mean that she was in love with Harwin either.

Do people realize that the word love does not necessarily mean being in love ? We can say we love a friend, a family member, our children, our ex with whom we are no longer in love but still one of the parents of our children and therefore part of the family, etc.

Because well, once again, even if it's not exactly the same as the book, Rhaenyra was quick to jump at the chance to have Daemon as soon as she got him, simply because he was truly the man she wanted and loved. For someone supposedly madly in love with Harwin, she won't have waited very long.

And yes, even if Harwin had been alive, I guarantee that Rhaenyra would have done the same, simply because she already did it in the book.

The truth is that Harwin was literally compensation for not getting the one she really wanted.

I also remind you that Rhaenyra, as an heiress, had to have children and that her husband... well was gay ? Rhaenyra needed a man she could trust and who would give her children. It's not particularly for Harwin himself that she risked the problems (because yes, apparently people think that too), but to have the children she had to have as an heir, and a minimum of happiness in her shitty life as a bonus, show or book. Literally, it wasn't for Harwin himself as a person that she risked the problems. It's not me who's delulu at this point.

Rhaewin fans are truly fascinating. So little material in HOTD, if it's nothing at all in Fire and Blood, but it still allows them to believe in a great love between these two... it will always make me laugh.

Also, I like how this person herself approached the book version by talking about GRRM but then told me, once her arguments had been dismantled, that she was only talking about the show, not the book and that it was two different things. Although technically there is no evidence in the show that Rhaenyra was in love with Harwin. That she loved him, yes. But in love ? Sorry, not for me.

And I don't care what anyone has to say. The simple fact that Rhaenyra took the first opportunity, HOTD or Fire and Blood, to be with Daemon when she was supposed to be grieving Harwin, or Harwin was simply alive, tells me enough about her true romantic feelings.

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[awingedinsect]

-Flood me like Atlantic-

Chapter 11

Full series

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: TRAUMA. Processing grief. De@th and loss of loved ones. Descriptions of g0re. This one was a bit difficult to write but it’s an important addition, and something you’ve all been waiting for MIGHT just be at the end! enjoy :)

He remembers that moment.

The way the beach got suddenly so quiet.

How when he looked up from his notebook, he couldn’t see a little head playing in the shallow waves.

He remembers how he ran. The way the wet sand churned under his feet as he called her name, running down the shore.

How the dark waves felt enveloping him, fighting his body off, like it wasn’t welcome in the water; trying to break his bones as his voice got hoarse from screaming.

He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe it…

“I don’t believe it.” II Whispers, eyes dilated and hollow. He sits on the end of his bed, not even looking up at Vessel in the doorway.

“I don’t believe it…”

“II? Can I come in?” Vessel speaks softly, though his lanky frame is a bit stiff. His hands fidget in the front of his hoodie.

II’s wet eyes flick up at him, red lips parting in a tragic shape. He nods.

Vessel steps quietly inside, closing the door till it’s open just a sliver like he found it.

II’s room is plain. Mainly a grey palette, with a few posters and cassette tapes littered around. Clothes are piled up on top of the dresser and the bed is unmade.

He’s been locked up in here, since last night when he saw the news. III and IV had both initially followed him in, trying to console him behind the closed door as Vessel stood outside, helpless.

II was crying.

And he knew he wasn’t supposed to help.

Now, Vessel settles down on the bed next to him, not saying a word. His head is bowed, eyes staring into space for a few beats before nervously flitting over at the drummer.

“…How you holding up?”

II sniffles, wiping his face. He sighs. “I dunno, Vess. I’m fine. I just can’t…” he looks up at him now, those big red eyes almost pleading. “Did you see what he looked like?”

Vessel did.

How could he forget? The image is now burned into his head as permanently as the symbol behind his bangs. Matt’s body, stretched out on the rotten floor of the house. The candles surrounding him, melted into puddles that seeped up around his blue skin and mingled with the blood dripping from the marks on his chest.

Patterns that lace Vessel’s own body.

Venus is dead.

He had to tell himself that over and over again, all night and all morning. She’s dead.

…isn’t she?

Vessel’s hand slips out of his pocket, tentatively moving to II’s knee.

“I know what you’re going through.” He says. “…grief is the toughest pill there is, I think. I wish I could fix it, II.” There’s a desperation in his voice, a little crack that he tries to hide. “…You don’t deserve it.”

“Who could’ve done that to him?” II’s voice is choked again. “Fuckin carved him like an animal.” His eyes meet Vessel’s, and go hollow. “…Did someone try to do that to you?”

Vessel swallows.

He still hasn’t told any of them the story. About Venus, about what happened that night. But he knows they’ve all been thinking about it since the photograph flashed on the tv.

It’s about time he told someone.

“…I dunno if it’s connected.” His voice is low, threatening to get bumpy. “But… you remember that girl who walked up at the bar? At the Blacklit room?”

II nods, confusion in his face. But he lets him continue. “Well, she texted me, about a week after the accident. Had me meet her at the sight. And she… well, she drugged me.”

II’s eyes go wide. “You telling me she did all that to you?” II looks horrified.

“…when I woke up she and her friends had me tied down.” Vessel’s lashes flutter, blinking away a bit of dew that’s gathering. “And then she… got on me. Told me I was some kind of offering, then got her knife out.”

II is silent. They both are for some time.

“…I think she’s dead, II.” Vessel says. “I dunno all that happened, I blacked out again. But she was gone and I… could just feel it.”

He wasn’t about to launch into the whole story. To be honest, he’d kick him out of the house too if he brought up Sleep. Though maybe one day they’ll be able to understand.

“I could be wrong.” He says. “She might still be out there. But no matter what, we’ll get justice for Matthew… I promise.”

Vessel almost thinks he hears the floorboards creak outside the door. He turns his head only for a moment, but II stays still. The drummer bows his head.

“…I loved him, I think.” He whispers. So quiet that it’s barely heard. So soft that Vessel knows it’s only halfway meant to be said; a confession for himself.

“Did you?”

“…maybe. I don’t know. I’ve known him since we were kids, on and off… never was able to shake the feeling that maybe I wanted him more than I had him. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s fuckin dead.”

The words drill straight into Vessel’s chest like a knife. Oh, II…

The water choked him, salt burning his eyes as he swam out into the deep. He couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear anything but the water. It dragged on his clothes, trying to swallow him just so it could spit him out.

Vessel’s eyes glaze over, wondering off to a different plane. “…I had a sister, once.”

II looks up at him, blinking. “…not anymore?”

The words come out of his mouth like breathing. Like breathing with lungs full of water and a head full of so many memories it’s about to overflow.

“…I was sixteen.” He continues. “Wasn't supposed to happen, you know?” His voice breaks on the last word, and his throat ties in a knot. He hasn’t talked about it in years. “Just one day and… I lost her. I was supposed to watch her, to make sure she stayed close. I looked away for only a minute.”

II’s face is even paler as he listens, hands knotted in his lap. His eyes are wide as saucers and more intense than Vessel has ever seen them, though he barely dares to take his own off the opposite wall.

He clears his throat, swiping his cheek with a sigh. “…the point is, she gave me a keyboard for my birthday. That same day. She got to hear me play it, said she loved it… she always loved to listen. I was just teaching her how to play the piano that month… She was a natural.” His eyes are full now, lips quivering. But there’s a point to all of this, and he’s gotta see it through.

“Matt was a drummer, yeah?”

II nods, scrunching his hands in his jeans.

“Means he’s not all gone. He’ll be with you now, when you play. In the music and the sound. Just like she’s in the keyboard, and in every the piano. We keep playing for them.”

His hand climbs to II’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “To keep their sound alive.”

II sniffles, nodding. “…thank you.” he says, hunching into Vessel. He wraps his arms around his waist, disappearing into his side like a little shadow. Vessel isn’t sure what to do at first, wet eyes blinking away the fog now that he’s being held. His arms wrap slowly around his friend, hugging him like he hasn’t hugged anyone in awhile.

They sit like that for a few minutes. Neither of them say a word, and neither of them cry anymore. It’s a sacred moment suspended in time and memory that Vessel makes sure to lock away and not forget.

After awhile they part, and Vessel leaves for the door.

“Vess?” II’s voice follows after him. He turns, raising his brows.

“What ever happened to your keyboard?”

The drummer asks. “You still got it somewhere, right?”

Vessel shuffles his feet, fingers gripping the brass doorknob.

“…It was in the motel I was staying in before everything.” He says, swallowing hard. “Probably confiscated, by now. But it’s alright. Maybe it’ll turn up in a pawnshop one of these days, huh?” He tries to smile, for II’s sake. But they both know it’s forced.

II nods, knotting his hand in the bedspread. “Yeah, probably, mate.”

As Vessel walks out, his head turns down the hallway just in time to see III’s door close softly shut.

He hadn’t even heard him.

•••

The house is quiet.

More quiet than usual.

Vessel stands in the kitchen, hand splayed on the counter as he downs a glass of water. His eyes are unfocused, flitting lazily out the window at the pitch darkness and the kitchen reflected in it, trying to gather his thoughts.

Where had he gone?

IV and II are both in their rooms still, having gone to bed hours ago. The sun will be up in an hour or two. But Vessel only managed to grab a bit of sleep before getting up to pace the night away, mind turning sluggishly over the events of the past few days and how they might correlate to III’s sudden disappearance.

“Does he do this often?” He had asked IV as the sun was setting and the bassist was still nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t said he was going anywhere, or even that he had something he needed to do. IV shrugged. “Sometimes… not a lot. But don’t sweat it, I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s not here for breakfast I’ll try calling him again.”

Vessel rubs his eyes, blinking hard. His head still hurts from that bit of an emotional display with II earlier since, honestly, he hasn’t cried in a good long while. And even then, it was hardly a sob fest.

But it certainly could have been.

”If you’ve gotta be sad, why don’t you write about it?” He can hear her say. “Make a song about being sad. That way, when people hear it, maybe it’ll make them happy they’re not alone!”

He closes his eyes, dropping his head back as his fingers tap slowly over the edge of the cold counter. Back and forth… Hands arched… If he listens carefully, he can hear the notes.

A tear slides down his cheek.

Suddenly he hears something down the hall. His eyes flick open, turning around as his fingers go still.

He sets his glass down.

“II?” He whispers, passing by the drummer's door and going straight to the sliver of light pouring out of III’s. He doesn’t remember it being open.

Reaching for the knob, he pushes it quietly and peers inside.

III’s not here.

Nothing is out of the ordinary, the stained glass lamp casting a soft glow over the aesthetically pleasing mess. And yet his heart drops to the floor the second his eyes land on the middle of the bed.

There’s no fucking way. That’s not possible, is it?

An unmanageable frown starts growing on his mouth as he steps inside, hands reaching shakily for the familiar row of pearly white keys. They’re a little scratched, the black surface aged and feeling oddly bare of a white bow.

But it’s perfect.

He presses down a single note, the delicate sound settling into his bones.

“-it’s tuned.”

He turns around, eyes blinking hazily at III in the doorway.

“What?” His voice is half stolen. “How did you- where did you…”

III steps inside, doc martins and a long suit jacket not detracting from the bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. He wanders closer to Vessel, looking down into his eyes and not stopping, finally. Those long lashes flutter as he looks over him, casting shadows down his cheeks.

His lips part. “…It’s tuned.”

Vessel’s arms are around him before he can stop himself, and III returns the gesture like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like holding him was something he was always meant to do, and that all he needed was the proper time.

“Thank you.” Vessel chokes into his shoulder, hands clawing up the back of the jacket. “T-thank you.”

III’s hands spreads in the back of the singer's hair, holding him tight enough to suffocate him and not showing any sign of letting go.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes.

And that’s it.

…And that’s more than Vessel ever needed to hear from him.

He was spat out. Left on the shore, rejected by the sea and all that it contained. He was desperate. Alone. Made to wander and wonder why he wasn't fit for the same tomb as her, after all.

He waited on the beach, praying to the water. Spreading his hands in the foam and asking it, simply, why.

But it had no answer, and neither did anything else. Not his mother, not one of the flyers in the waiting room a month later. Not a god.

Though he had this insatiable desire; To claw down his mothers heaven, and make sure that the girl was in there. If there was ever a reason for heaven to be real, it was so that she’d be put in it and sheltered forever. Whether or not it was best. Whether or not he’d ever be able to reach her, in the end.

“Let the tide carry you…” his hands draw the sounds out of the freshly tuned keyboard, nodding his head slowly to the music. It’s alive again.

“…back to me.”

Tags: @thevenomousseprent @moonlit-valkyrie @mmendez0124 @yourviscera @rain-down-on-me @xzero01

[zahmaddog]

Part 7: If You Wanted To Be

Warnings: It's so FLUFFY imma die, Romance, Crosshair Comforts, Tears, etc. Whole series NSFW.

Crosshair x fem!reader | Word Count: 2921 Omega is peak little sister in this chapter again. The whole batch is back! I hope you enjoy. This fanfic has been a really good outlet for me and awesome writing practice. I haven't written like this since I was in high school and well, I think I'll be writing more now than ever. Thank you everyone for your support. There is one more chapter after this to wrap up this storyline. <3

Part I | Part II | Part III 😈 | Part IV | Part V | Part VI 😈

“I know we’ve only been away for a few rotations, but it feels like forever,” you mentioned as you pulled the landing gear lever above the Pabu space port. 

Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker were at the platform to meet you and Crosshair. You waved from the cockpit, spun around in the captain's chair, and shook your hands out. “Since when do you get nervous?” Crosshair was puzzled by your movements. “Admitting to your family I got you wrapped up in an Imperial prison again wasn’t on my bucket list,” you sighed. 

“I can promise you —,” Crosshair laughed and crossed his arms, “We’ve been through much worse.” 

He stood from his chair and extended his hand to lift you from your slumped posture in your seat. You took his hand with both of yours and prepared to meet his family at the port. 

Hitting the button to open the door to your ship, you looked at Crosshair. You were surprised he was still holding your hand. Was he really ready to be an item in front of his brothers and Omega? He enjoyed spending one on one time with you on Pabu before, but you knew he never revealed his true feelings to his family about you. If he had, you knew Omega would be even more of a relentless tease. You gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” you asked.

“Mmm, something like that,” he mumbled through a child-like smirk.

You and Crosshair descended the ramp together and were immediately met with Omega charging Crosshair like a bull bantha. You let go of his hand so he could catch her with both arms as she leapt through the air and hung from his neck, pulling him down to her level into a tight embrace. 

“We missed you, Crosshair!” she exclaimed. Crosshair smiled warmly and hugged her back. 

“I missed you too, Omega,” he spoke softly. 

Walking towards us at the rate of a nearly-dead bantha, Hunter and Wrecker arrived. Wrecker picked up the pace a little when he was within tossing distance and scooped both Omega and Crosshair up into an embrace and swung them around. You moved back a little so Crosshair’s feet didn’t hit you.

“Hungry?” he boomed with his gigantic smile. 

“I –I could eat,” Crosshair managed to grunt as Wrecker squeezed him close. Wrecker swung around to meet your eyes for your response. 

“I’m always down for a meal of yours, Wrecker,” you smiled.

Hunter approached the party as Wrecker dropped Crosshair and Omega to the ground. Hunter’s eyes were soft and his presence welcoming, but you continued to read heavily into his body language in case there was more to be aware of. You sighed as you realized you still didn’t feel completely safe here on Pabu.

Hunter didn’t know the extent of trouble you could still be in, nor what you had just put Crosshair through. He didn’t even know. Your gaze drifted back to Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair with the same thought. They don’t know either. You and Crosshair either had quite the story to tell and their reactions would come later or a secret to share. Either way, your heart sank as a feeling of doom washed over your nerves. You felt yourself take another step back from Crosshair, Wrecker, and Omega.

“Something on your mind?” you heard Hunter ask. You realized you were starring off into space. You hadn’t even reacted when Omega pulled a small lizard-like creature out of her pocket to show Crosshair. Still without words, you met Hunter’s gaze and furrowed your eyebrows a bit. 

“I can’t believe I almost cost him his family,” you lamented quietly to Hunter. You watched Crosshair try to be proud and supportive of Omega and yet another one of her creature friends.

“It was his choice to go with you,” Hunter assured. “And I respect his decision. But I had a feeling he was getting into something more than even he expected.”

You sighed, realizing Hunter too deserved the truth.

“Crosshair and I have something in common,” you started, then paused. “We’re both Imperial deserters. We both really tried to make it work with the Empire. But the difference is, I don’t think they’ll let me be.”

“Do you think they’ll let any of us be?” Hunter consoled you.

You watched the lizard creature leap from Omega’s hands and onto Crosshair. You could hear his audible disdain as it crawled up his arm and onto his back.

“You all may have a chance, if I—” you stopped speaking as Hunter placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t go anywhere, yet,” he pleaded. “It’s rare to see him in a good mood,” he motioned to Crosshair, who was now bent in half pleading to Omega to get the lizard off of him. Omega argued back that it was good that the creature liked him so much. 

Hunter continued, “I’m sure we can keep you safe. Just think about it.”

You looked at him with a face of disbelief and desperation. It’s not that you didn’t trust that they couldn’t keep you safe, but you felt sick to your stomach thinking they’d ever need to fight for you. Hunter was taken back by your expression a little.

“You and Crosshair have something else in common,” he sighed.

“And what’s that?” you muttered.

Wrecker howled with laughter as the lizard began to crawl from Crosshair’s back to his neck. Crosshair could reach the lizard, but not wanting to hurt it in front of Omega, he begged her to remove it. 

“You’re not afraid to speak your mind, but you keep most things to yourself,” Hunter continued. “Just promise me, you won’t just disappear on him.”

You nodded in agreement. Oh, how Hunter’s heightened senses could read you like a book. It wasn’t that you wanted to leave Crosshair either. If anything, you knew that once again, you’d be running from yourself. That constant fight or flight response has been fueling your body for well over a week now. 

His hand left your shoulder and he walked a few feet towards Crosshair. He peeled Omega’s lizard off of Crosshair’s neck and placed it on her head. She giggled as Hunter’s paternal glare glanced from her to Wrecker to Crosshair.

“Now you can’t say I never did anything for you,” Hunter jokes to Crosshair.

“Hmm,” Crosshair shot Hunter a harmless glare as he wiped the goo the lizard exfoliated onto his skin. 

“She put that thing in my bed last night,” Hunter muttered to Crosshair while looking at the lizard with a look of distaste. 

“Of course she did,” Crosshair chuckled and sent a nod of approval in Omega’s direction.

Still feeling, well, dissociated, you tried to pull it together and engage back into conversation. But no words came to mind. Mesmerized by their sibling banter and love, you were so happy Crosshair had such an engaging and caring family. Soon, Wrecker, Hunter, Omega, and Crosshair started to walk back to the Bad Batch home. Crosshair turned and noticed you were frozen on the platform. 

“Problem?” Crosshair narrowed his eyes on you.

“No problem,” you lied. 

“I don’t believe you,” Crosshair reached out his hand. 

“Honestly,” you took Crosshair’s hand and tried to assemble a sentence that made sense. “I’m feeling a lot right now.” He pulled you closer to him.

“You look tired,” he said above a whisper while running his thumb under your eye. 

You nodded, “I’m exhausted. And afraid.”

“Afraid?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head back a little.

Your stupor in words ceased and they fell out in a waterfall, “Crosshair, I know the inquisitor found us here on Pabu because I had the holocron. But they could still come back here to find me. I’m of no value to the Empire, but my uncle has a personal vendetta with me. What if —-”

Crosshair listened to you try not to spiral and maintain composure. You got to the point.

“I’ve already lost my family,” you glanced at Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega continuing to walk home. “I could never ask you to risk yours again.”

“But you are part of our family now. If you wanted to be,” Crosshair comforted.

You looked at him in astoundment at the invitation. Just moments ago, you had joked if you were really a romantic item, but he already had his heart set on keeping you as family? Frozen, you waited for him to say something else – or maybe redact his offer… But no, instead you were filled with peace.

“Do you trust me?” Crosshair asked.

You winced a smile out of your peaceful frozen pain, “Oddly enough, I do.” 

“Then we’ll be okay,” he promised.

The feeling of safety enveloped and overwhelmed you. During your time with the Empire and all throughout your upbringing, and the messes you got into post-Empire, you never felt safer than you felt in this moment with him. There was never a soul you could trust and lean into like you could with Crosshair. You felt tears well up in your eyes, waiting to spring out, but you did your best to hold them back. You were still afraid to show emotion; still reveling in your Imperial conditioning. The scars of abandonment still gripped you tightly, but you had fallen hard for Crosshair; you trusted him.

“It’s okay,” Crosshair embraces you tightly and you release your tears in a single exhale. You take a few deep breaths, doing your best to feel through the moment, but not cause a scene as the sun sets on the horizon. After a few moments, you do settle, still amazed that someone was there for you. He takes a step back and wipes your remaining tears away with his thumbs. 

“We can’t have you crying at dinner, you know. They’ll think I said something horrible,” he sarcastically smiled.

“What? You say something horrible?” you smiled back through your tears. “I’ve never heard you say something horrible towards anyone ever,” you continued the sarcastic banter. Crosshair softly smiled back at you.

“Now come on, let’s get you some food so I feel better about throwing you in my bed after,” he flirted.

“Fine,” you wiped the last of your tears with your shirt while lacing your fingers tighter with Crosshair’s. “We could just skip dinner, you know,” you winked.

Crosshair’s heart fluttered and he lifted your hand to kiss it. His lips were soft; his gaze softer.  You and he began to walk up the hill back to the Bad Batch home.

—

“Then, a giant sea creature appeared! Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker tried to shoot it down in the Marauder, but it only made it more angry! Then, Ventress calmed the beast with her Jedi powers.” Omega exclaimed over her meal. Hunter gave her a glance, “Your food’s going to go cold.” 

Omega, realizing she was dominating conversation at the table, again, wrapped up her story, “Anyways, that was the time I saw Ventress use the force.”

You nodded at her as you followed her story, smiling a bit. She was definitely the most talkative out of the family. She returned back to her food and looked up a little.

“So, was that at all like the Jedi you met?��� She questioned. 

“No,” Crosshair shook his head. He too struggled to know how much information to share. 

“We ran into two Jedi,” you began. Crosshair put down his fork full of food to help you explain.

“Both worked for the Empire,” Crosshair wiped his mouth.

“For the Empire?” Hunter exclaimed. 

You nodded, “The first we ran into was an Inquisitor. I only know them from my previous run-ins with the Empire. They’re basically Imperial force-wielding elite bounty hunters,” you shrugged, “A new addition to their military force.”

“Where did you run into it?” Wrecker asked.

You grit your teeth into an awkward smile, “Here, on Pabu. They came to arrest me for an artifact I had on my ship. Crosshair gunned them down.”

Wrecker almost looked offended that you hadn’t invited him to the showdown. Hunter was bewildered that an Imperial ship had landed on Pabu without him knowing.

“What happened after?” Omega’s eyes were completely fixed on you.

“We hid the bodies,” Crosshair began. “It was all her idea,” motioning towards you, “She flew the ship a star system away and made it look like an accident. And I stowed away on her ship that she remotely flew to pick her up.”

“And that’s when you commed me,” Hunter said, putting the timeline together.

Crosshair nodded. Omega put her hands over her eyes and sighed.

“And that’s when you told us you were going on vacation,” Omega realized.

“It was a decent vacation,” Crosshair admitted.

“You ended up in prison!” Omega exclaimed.

“So, it’s on par with other vacations,” Crosshair teased.

“How did you end up in prison?” Hunter brought the attention back to the story.

“The Empire caught up with us. We were arrested for treason, desertion, and because I had this Jedi artifact on me,” you explained. 

Hunter’s eyebrows furrowed, “And what about this last Jedi? What was he like?”

You paused and bit your lip. “I’ve never experienced fear like it when he walked into my cell. He was powerful.” 

Hunter and Wrecker’s eyes stayed focused on you and Crosshair. You were afraid to tell them anything, so you reminded yourself it was going rather well.

You sighed and shrugged, “He also aided our escape.” Crosshair’s eyebrow lifted and he shifted his shoulders towards you. You still hadn’t explained what occurred that day to him either. 

“He helped us?” Crosshair looked stunned.

“He had knocked Crosshair unconscious, cornered us, and then he called me a traitor. I thought we would die there. But then, he told me to ‘save the clone,’ or Crosshair,” you trailed off in thought. “None of it makes sense, but we escaped in a stolen shuttle.”

“A clone sympathizer?” Hunter was as puzzled as you were.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you concurred. 

“Then why is the Empire still after you?” Omega wondered.

“Right,” you inhaled deeply and sighed. “Crosshair knows this quite well now, but I’m a Tarkin. You know, related to Grand Moff, Governor, Admiral, Tarkin… Tarkin… That guy,” you trailed off again not knowing how much to divulge.

Hunter and Wrecker’s eyes got a little bigger and the silence after the verbal bomb you dropped was nearly deafening. 

“Who’s that?” Omega questioned again.

“My family is rather important to the Empire. We’re as Imperial as they come. So, defecting from the Empire also meant my family would cut me off or hunt me down,” you explained to Omega.

“You lost your family?” Her expression turned to sadness in empathy.

“In a way,” you confessed.

“That is a heavy burden,” Hunter tried to sympathize. 

“But they have no reason to know you’re here,” Crosshair put his hand on your shoulder. 

“What will you do now?” Wrecker chimed in.

“Crosshair suggested I stay a while,” you returned to poking at your food with your fork.

“Well, that only makes sense,” Omega returned her gaze to her plate and pushed a piece of food around with her fork. “You are his girlfriend.” 

Crosshair bashfully snapped his gaze downward to his lap and rolled his head in your direction as if he was trying to hide his smile from everyone in the room, but you. Crosshair could not hide his emotions well today. Wrecker laughed.

“If we’re family enough for you, you’re welcome to stay,” Wrecker affirmed.

“I agree,” Hunter nodded at you. 

“Thank you,” you returned to your food as you heard the front door behind you open.

“Echo!” Omega suddenly leapt up from the table and ran around it. You turned a bit in your seat. Crosshair stood up, as did his brothers.

“It’s good to be back,” Echo smiled as he embraced Omega.  

Echo’s eyes immediately met yours, “And you must be the new favorite.”

“Echo, this is my girlfriend —,” Crosshair started.

“Omega has told me all about you,” Echo laughed and he outstretched his hand for you to greet him. “You’ve got a nice ship. I hear you have one for me?”

You nodded, “Yeah, Crosshair and I ripped a class-T 4a from the Empire. It’s wiped and ready to go. Thank you for returning mine.”

Echo shot a smile at Crosshair, “I like her.”

“Are you sure you like him?” Echo turned back to you.

“What’s not to like?” You narrowed your eyes on him and managed a small smile. 

“I can think of some things,” Echo jokes as he brushes past Crosshair to find a seat. Crosshair rolls his eyes.

“It’s great to see you too, Echo,” he smirks.

—-

After the meal had ended, Hunter, Crosshair, Omega, Wrecker, and Echo were catching up around the table. You had excused yourself to the refresher, then slipped out the back to watch the moonlight reflect off the ocean. 

Leaning over the railing of the back deck, you breathed in the gentle oceanic breeze. The island is quiet and your thoughts are still racing. You knew you needed some serious sleep. The crashing waves began to lull you as you felt your eyes grow heavy. The thoughts began to slow. The feelings slowly washed out.

You turn to find a chair behind you. Nearly collapsing into it, you lean your head back and stretch out a little. You told yourself you wouldn’t sleep long, then closed your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 8: The Defective Clone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @tentakelspektakel @cloneflo99

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

Master List of My Works

Some Links Reroute to: https://hereforthefanficsandromance.blogspot.com/

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Need to Rant with Others Who Have Read These Stories?

Join My Discord It's free! Members get updates, sneak peaks, bonus content, events, and countdowns to new chapters. We'd love to have you, even if you just lurk!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Love/Like/Hate What You Read?

Comment (please!) on AO3 or Blogger Anonymous/Comment/Message/Reblog on Tumblr Compliments feed me Constructive Criticism improves me

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

The Way He Looks at You Series

(Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor Alternate Universe

After being dumped by your Jedi boyfriend, you accidentally bump into Inquisitor Cal Kestis, the Thirteenth Brother. He takes an interest in you and intends to give you what you desire most.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Fan Requests

A Ring for Cal (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Cal has a hard time lasting in the bedroom and needs some help to enjoy his time with you.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Fan Prize Story #1: Training in the Water (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

You, a former Jedi, watch Cal practice his forms. He offers to jog your memory on how to do them.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Fan Prize Story #2: Pleasure in Pushing and Punishment (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Cal has has been missing you and decides to show it by being a bit of a brat. You won't tolerate his behavior and make him work for what he wants.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Fan Prize Story #3: Finding the Way Back (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Cal doesn't return from a mission forcing you to venture out into the Kashyyyk jungle to rescue him and face your greatest fears.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Fan Prize Story #4: Once Bitten, Twice Shy, Thrice Prepared (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Modern AU Cal takes you on your third date, this time to the Ren Faire.

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Tied and Crying (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Fan Request: IM TELLING YOU, HE WOULD LOOK SO CUTE ALL TIED UP AND CRYING FOR RELEASE

Rating: 18+

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Mini Series

Til the Cals Come Home (Cal Kestis x Reader)

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order/Survivor

Your life changes when Cal Kestis offers to buy you a drink. He drugs you and modifies your body to make you fit to produce milk for his black market distribution.

Rating: 18+ Trigger Warnings:  Dead Dove: Don't Eat, Non-Con, Drugging, Numbness, Needles, Lactation, Hucow, Kidnapping, Rape, Forced Pregnancy, Severs Trauma, Torture, Murder

Chapter I: Alcohol Chapter II: Milk Chapter III: Semen Chapter IV: Blood

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

Short Stories

The Nightmare God (Fantasy)

Writing Prompt

The Nightmare God takes revenge after losing their worshippers.

Rating: N/A

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

NYE, Anywhere, 02:04 am, January 1 (Poetry)

Original Work

The cozy nature of New Year's Eve with loved ones.

Rating: N/A

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆

[maximura]

Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity | An Interstellar Ateez story: Part I | Part II| Part III | Park IV| Part V| Part VI| Part VII | Part VIII (Words 7000, Gen, Warnings: swearing) You can now also read it all on A03

“I think we got it.” Yunho says, standing up to stretch his back. There’s a definite dull ache in his lower spine from time spent hunching over Mr Lee’s tractor engine. 

“Do the checklist.”

Wooyoung wipes his hands on his jeans and picks up an oil stained notebook, ready to tick off their accomplishments. “Okay, remove the sludge from the engine block, sleeves, crankshaft and camshaft?”

“Yup.”

“Re-install the cleaned sleeves back into the block. Then replace all the oiled bearings before dropping the crankshaft back in.”

Yunho goes through each step in his head, nodding again. “Yup.”

“Replace all the caps, thread in the rope and change the tappets if they’re worn out.”

“I didn’t need to change them today, write that down to tell Mr. Lee later because it’ll change the cost of the job.”

Wooyoung nods and makes a note. “Okay, next step is to put the camshaft back and lock it in with the gears before re-installing the pistons.”

“Yup, done.”

On and on it went, until fifty steps later, the engine is safely back in Mr Lee’s tractor and the two-page checklist is completely marked off. Both brothers stand staring at the old farm machine in wonderment, like it was a Frankenstein monster that they’ve raised from the dead.

“Woah.” Wooyoung says, in hushed disbelief. “You did it.”

“Did I miss any steps this time?”

Flipping back through the notebook’s list, Wooyoung shakes his head. “Nope, you got it all.”

“Woah.” Yunho echoes, the faint smile on his face growing bigger by the second.

“Should we see if it’ll start? I know Hongjoong said not to do it until he gets here but well, he’s not here and Mr. Lee is out on his field, he won’t notice if we try it out now.”

Yunho chews on his bottom lip for a moment before nodding. “Okay but if it starts smoking like hell, we tell Hongjoong that Mr. Lee insisted we try it out and if the old man denies it, we’ll say his hearing aids must be playing up.”

“Totally.” Wooyoung agrees easily, handing the keys over to his older brother.

Yunho gingerly climbs onto the old red tractor and turns the key. There’s a few seconds of spluttering before the engine growls into life, shaky at first, then loud and steady after. Yunho cuts the engine before it alerts the old farmer. 

It works. 

“Holy shit.” He says with a wide grin, jumping back down to land beside Wooyoung. “I did it?”

“Well, yes but I made the checklist so I’d say its fifty-fifty.”

Yunho shoots his brother a tired look. 

“Sixty-forty?” Wooyoung negotiates. “No? Seventy-thirty?”

Yunho rolls his eyes but he’s not annoyed. Far from it. He’s ecstatic with the job today. He’s never fixed an entire tractor engine by himself before because Hongjoong was always hovering beside him to correct his technique or remind him of steps he’s missed. Apart from babysitting Wooyoung, it’s hard to remember a time when anyone trusted him to do something so important by himself. 

Another sudden rush of endorphins hits him in that moment and he sweeps the little menace into a tight hug, easily lifting him off the ground. 

“Hey! Put me down!” Wooyoung protests, squirming uselessly against Yunho’s strong embrace. “You’re excited, I get it! Sheesh.”

Wooyoung doesn’t even really like farming and doesn’t naturally gravitate to it in the way his brothers do. He was born with a fascination of machines, though preferred building things on a much smaller scale; like robots, circuits and repairing household electronics. But never wanting to be left out of any family activity, he had come along to most of the farming repair jobs with his battered notebook and meticulously jotted down everything Hongjoong had said, in the order he said it, word-for-word, like he was documenting a new scripture from God. 

It had proven unexpectedly helpful, even if Yunho doubted it at first. 

They make a good team. And deep down, if he’s being honest with himself, Yunho always knew they would.

“Do you think Hongjoong will split the pay check with us?”

Yunho shrugs now. “If he doesn’t, you have my permission to complain until he does.”

“Awesome.” Wooyoung grins wickedly.

*

Hongjoong doesn’t split the paycheck. 

He gives them the entire thing, followed by several proud thumps on the back. Yunho gets another job fixing Mr. Lee’s ride-on lawnmower next weekend and Wooyoung tries to calculate how many robot parts he can buy with his twenty percent earnings.

Neither of them pay much attention when Hongjoong is driving them home and telling them they have guests waiting back at the farm. 

Wooyoung stops dreaming about new electronic motherboards as the words catch up to him. 

“Guests? What kind of guests?” He asks.

Hongjoong looks over briefly before turning back to the road. “People from my work. You don’t have to hang out with them if you don’t feel like it. I can tell them you’re both sick if you want.”

Yunho is still on a high from his job success and being eighty percent richer, so he shakes his head easily. “It’s fine by me, as long as they’re not stuck up jerks.”

“They’re not like that.” Hongjoong reassures him before looking at Wooyoung. “What do you think, kiddo? You want to be social or sick?”

“When you say “work” do you mean like other farmers or like from NASA?”

“From NASA.”

“Oh!” Wooyoung’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah, that’s okay then.”

“Farmers are cool too.” Yunho mutters under this breath. “I don’t see NASA feeding the entire human population with their rockets and computers.”

Wooyoung ignores him and leans forward in his seat as their farm comes into view. “Can I show them my robot?”

“Oh My God.” Yunho groans. “Embarrass yourself in your own time, Einstein. Don’t bring down the entire family in front of Hongjoong’s work friends.”

“As if you’re not the embarrassing one!” Wooyoung bites back, reaching across to pinch his brother on the arm. “You’re covered in grease and your hair looks stupid.”

“My hair looks stupid? Have you even seen a mirror lately? Your face is stupid.” Yunho cackles, raising his arm to shove at his younger brother, only for Hongjoong’s lightning-fast-dad-reflexes to smack it back down.

“No fighting! I’m literally begging you to make good choices today and behave like normal people. They’ve both had a really stressful day. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Yunho shakes his head at his older brother. “So you thought bringing them here to meet Wooyoung was the solution….OW! Hongjoong, he kicked me.”

“No fucking fighting! What did I just say!” Hongjoong warns. “This was a stupid idea.”

“No shit.” Yunho says, laughing. “Why did they even agree to come? Are they your friends? Do you even have friends at NASA, besides Seungcheol?”

“It’s just a guy from work and his little brother.” Hongjoong replies, feeling defensive.

“Oh great, another child to babysit. Thanks Hongjoong.”

“Shut up, Yunho.” Wooyoung grumbles. There’s another retort on the tip of his tongue but it’s cut short as they pull up into their driveway and he notices a very familiar face leaning against the other truck parked there. 

“IS THAT SEONGHWA?”

He’s out of the truck before Hongjoong has even come to a full stop.  

Yunho looks at the unfamiliar man through the windscreen, then he looks across at Hongjoong’s nervous hand fumbling with the keys. The realisation sets in slowly. 

“That’s The Doctor Park Seonghwa? I thought he’d be really old. Wooyoung said he’s this crazy smart scientist with five degrees.”

“He isn’t old and he does. Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Yunho says slyly. “I guess I know why you invited him over though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hongjoong asks, only to be answered with a smirking shrug. “Yunho!”

With that the teenager gets out the truck and Hongjoong is left to wonder what that the hell just happened. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a small knock on the driver’s side window. 

It’s San, all dimple-smile and waving like he hadn’t just seen Hongjoong a few hours ago.

“Hey, sorry about the wait.” Hongjoong says, getting out the truck. “Didn’t trash my farm yet, did you?”

San shakes his head. “No. Your garage was locked though.”

Hongjoong laughs, because of course Choi San has already explored the property. “You could’ve picked it. I know you know how.”

“I didn’t want your brothers to hate me for trying to break into your house.” San replies. “Besides, Seonghwa would kill me.”

Hongjoong just shakes his head in amusement and motions for the young pilot to follow him. They reach the other truck parked in the driveway and find Wooyoung already talking a mile-a-minute about a burnt soldering iron. Yunho breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Hongjoong approaching. 

The introductions are awkward. 

San is guarded, jamming his hands in his pockets and continuing to survey the property with sharp observant eyes. He automatically sizes up the new competition because that’s what he’s always done when he meets new people. Other teenagers were usually just other training candidates who wouldn’t hesitate to step on him to get ahead. Other teenagers who steal the attention of his brother and adoptive father and now Hongjoong.

Wooyoung is staring uncomfortably, obviously and owlishly at San, caught between needing to “be a normal person” and wanting to spill the contents of his mind to anyone within hearing range, whether they want to hear it or not. His excitement in seeing a familiar face now overtaken by the anxiety of meeting a new one. He picks up on the discomfort and decides to hide his fidgety fingers in the front pocket of his hoodie. It was Yunho’s hoodie once and had seen so many summers and winters that its faded blue fabric was now almost grey. It was softly worn and comfortable but he suddenly feels self conscious in it.

Beside him, Hongjoong stumbles over his introduction of Doctor Park. 

“You can call me Seonghwa.” The Doctor corrects, giving both Wooyoung and Yunho a warm smile. “There’s no need to call me Doctor outside of work.”

“Sorry.” Hongjoong nods, embarrassed, and runs his hand through his hair for the third time before herding everyone in.

None of them are used to having new guests on their farm and Yunho can see his brothers struggling through it all. He really should’ve dragged Mingi over for the moral support and comic relief. 

*

The sun is high in the mid-morning sky as Seonghwa settles into an old wooden chair on the back porch. He can see the three boys standing in the field next to a very old yellow tractor with a thunderbolt painted on the side. 

Despite the awkwardly stiff introductions, they visibly relaxed and dissolved into children when Hongjoong handed them the keys to the tractor and had taken off running before the stern lecture was even finished.

Seonghwa watches Yunho and Wooyoung bicker about something now, while San stands silently off to one side, unable to keep the judging look off his face, despite NASA’s efforts to train him otherwise. 

There’s a flash of worry that maybe this was a bad idea; that San is too different, too socially unprepared, too much a sheltered “NASA Kid” to get along with regular people his age. Maybe he wasn’t ready to return to a farm. Maybe he hasn’t had enough therapy to deal with a place where his entire family had died. 

A flood of ‘maybes’ swirl nauseatingly around Seonghwa’s gut as he watches his adopted brother frown at the bickering in front of him. His legs are all but ready to trek across the field and make some excuse to leave early. 

But then Yunho says something and San lets out a loud laugh that crinkles his eyes and carries across the entire field towards the porch. It’s quickly joined by Wooyoung’s scathing protest and Yunho’s deeply indignant tone as they all climb back onto the tractor.

Seonghwa cautiously relaxes a little. 

Maybe San will be okay here. 

A light breeze brings him back to the present. It ruffles his hair and barely brushes against his skin but he can hear the way it gently rustles across the cornfields in the distance. It’s not a sound he hears often. The sky above them is as clear as it’ll ever be, the forecast this morning predicted only twenty percent haze today, which is a rarity in itself. It will increase significantly this afternoon.

Hongjoong is pottering around in the kitchen behind him. He can hear the tap running, a cupboard opening and closing, the clink of some glasses, a dull thud followed by a quiet curse. 

There’s nothing to do but sit and watch and wait. Time seems to pass slowly here on the farm, as if it was some kind of foreign alien land. The morning has become unhurried and with all his projects and responsibilities isolated to the other side of town, Seonghwa finds himself lulled into a weightless sense of serenity.

It’s just for a moment, before his brain catches the glitch and reminds him of real life again.

But in that moment, he feels something close to peace. 

Seonghwa looks up to the blue sky again. Somewhere, light years away, on distant lonely planets, there were explorers he once knew, sent on impossible missions by NASA, in the name of science and on the blind faith of his father. He wonders how they are, if they’re in hypersleep, if they’re out exploring alien terrain, if their spacecraft and tech were still viable, if they had gotten the science right, if they had already succumbed to isolation madness of the most irreversible kind, if they were still even alive. 

And on it goes. One worry after the next. One responsibility after another. The Mission never escapes him and sleeping doesn’t even offer any reprieve; if he’s not thinking about futile scenarios when he’s awake, he’s dreaming of them when he’s asleep.

“Here.” Hongjoong says, appearing by his side to place a glass of water and plate on the small table between them. “We made some sugar cookies for Yunho’s birthday, if you eat that kind of thing.”

Hongjoong had taken off his tie by now. His shirt sleeves were hastily rolled up to his elbows, with the left one shorter than the right. There are large veins running tortuous paths down his forearms that Seonghwa has never noticed before.

“Long day huh?”

Seonghwa scoffs softly. “It’s eleven thirty.”

Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, it’s significantly longer than when they had last seen each other but not any less tamed. It was a trait he shared with his younger brothers.

“Long morning then.”

“Yes, it definitely has been.”

“Do you want to talk about the meeting? The new proposal?”

“Not particularly, no.” Seonghwa says. He’s compartmentalised and filed it all away in his mind. It will be something to spiral anxiously over tonight, when he’s alone and not being watched. 

“Oh, okay.” Hongjoong replies, taken aback by the abrupt shut down. 

Seonghwa quickly changes the subject and points towards the field in front of them. 

“What are they trying to achieve exactly?”

Hongjoong takes a sip of water and follows the line of sight. “That’s KAJO, one of our oldest tractors. It’s almost as old as Wooyoung. I think they’re trying to make it go faster by adjusting the gears. My guess is that they’re badgering Yunho to get it into top gear.”

Seonghwa frowns. “How fast can they drive it?”

“At top gear? 65 kilometres per hour.” Hongjoong explains. “I limited KAJO to 30 for the boys to practice on but I told them it’s only 20.”

“The trust runs deep, I see.” 

“What trust?” Hongjoong snorts. “With those three? And their track records? You’d have done the same.”

It’s true. He would.

“Who named it? That tractor?”

“Oh, that’s all Wooyoung.” Hongjoong replies, holding out the plate of sugar cookies that have big Y’s stamped into them. 

Seonghwa takes one and nibbles on a corner. It’s good and sweet and familiar; a nostalgic taste he hasn’t had in a long time, not since his mother died. San never really asked for cookies, even on his birthdays. But then again, San barely even asks for birthdays to begin with.

A mild ache spreads over his chest; it echoes of his mother, of lost childhoods, of premature adulthood, of regrets he has for San. He envies Hongjoong and his brothers for their idyllic life here but it’s only a brief envy. He knows what’s coming and they all deserve whatever time is left on this Earth.

“It’s a peculiar thing to call a tractor.” Seonghwa muses. “I thought he might have named her after the famous mathematician, Katherine Johnson-“

“Oh he did.” Hongjoong says with a laugh. “He was obsessed with her when he was younger. He read about her in one of dad’s old books and announced he wanted to be a human computer too.”

Seonghwa looks up in surprise, “So he really did name it after her?”

“Yep. We had to vote and everything.” Hongjoong tells him with amusement in his voice. “It was KAJO or Pikachu. We went for the shorter one.”

“Pikachu? Oh, because it’s yellow.” 

“Yep.” Hongjoong says with a lopsided smile. It looks nice on him. 

“He must really love science and maths. Is he doing well in school?”

“If you’re asking if that kid is a genius level nerd, then yes, he sure is. He’s skipped a year and a half. It’s kinda why he has no friends his own age at school. He’s used to dealing with adults and making fools of them all. Me included.”

“Your IQ is 145.” It slips out accidentally and Seonghwa’s face burns with instant regret. He blames the stress of the meeting and a poor night’s sleep and the way the farm lulls him into a false sense of security. He’s thrown off his game here.

Hongjoong looks at him knowingly but thankfully let’s the matter pass without comment. 

“Yeah, well, Wooyoung’s IQ is 160 and that was when he was twelve. I don’t even want to know what it is now.”

There’s a loud boisterous burst of yelling from out in the field. San is in the driver's seat of the tractor, it looks like they’ve figured out that the speed limiter was just merely a suggestion that didn’t apply to them.

KAJO putters slow and steady down the field before growling into top gear. San has driven, and broken, far more advanced machines in his short life, and yet, Seonghwa is a little taken aback by the wild look of exhilaration on his brother’s face as he drives the ancient farming relic. His grin is open and unclouded and a rare thing. 

“Goddammit.” Hongjoong mutters, putting down his cookie and standing up. “They figured out my limiters. I’ll go get it back down.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa interjects, surprising himself more than anything. “Leave them be, it’s okay. They seem to be enjoying it. You know San’s driven things much faster than that.”

Hongjoong looks down with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. There’s nothing to crash into and they look like they’re having fun out there.”

“Two of them do.” Hongjoong observes as he sits back down. “I bet they’re completely ganging up on Yunho.”

“He seems to be handling it well.”

“Yeah of course, he’s my reliable kid.” Hongjoong says with obvious pride. “But the other two? They’re going to cause problems. I can tell you that right now. The lunacy is going to multiply. I hope you’re prepared.”

“Lunacy with others might be better than stability alone.” Seonghwa says, hoping he’s kept the melancholia out of his voice. 

Hongjoong looks at him with a comically surprised face. 

“What?” Seonghwa asks. “I was talking about San.”

“I know, I just can’t believe you, of all people, just said that.”

“San isn’t me. He seems to like having people around.”

Hongjoong laughs and for a moment Seonghwa think he’s mocking him. 

“You like having people around. I’d say that out of everyone on Earth, you’re the one trying their hardest to keep ‘having people around’. All six billion of them.”

“It’s just my job.” Seonghwa says with a light shrug. “Intelligence and knowledge without utility is selfish and useless.”

“Even if the government tells you how you should do it?”

“There’s always a price to pay.”

“So I guess the meeting this morning didn’t really go the way you wanted it to?”

“They never do.” 

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about it but I just wanted to know why you didn’t, I don’t know, tell them all to fuck off. It’s your project.”

Seonghwa swallows the rest of the sugar cookie and looks across at the other man. Hongjoong’s hand is digging into his thigh and there’s a deep scowl on his face. It’s not something Seonghwa has come to understand yet; how a pilot who has only known about the Lazarus Mission for the last few months could muster up this much anger about it. 

But then he realises that he barely knows anything personal about Hongjoong at all. 

His father informed him of the numbers and figures. He knows things that would be critical to the mission, to NASA, things that could be useful: like Hongjoong’s IQ, his training abilities, his test scores, his aptitude for mechanical engineering, his physical evaluations, his flight records.  

He was never told anything else, because nobody thought those other details would matter. Every personal detail he’s learnt about Hongjoong has always been on his own or through San’s stories but they always point to the same conclusions: they were too different to see the Lazarus Mission the same way.

Hongjoong’s attitude in the meeting this morning hadn’t come as a surprise and his question now isn’t surprising either. Seonghwa is aware that his own behaviour could be interpreted as weak and submissive but it’s been years since he cared what other people thought of him. 

“Antagonising the NASA Board without our Head of Division present doesn’t serve any useful purpose. Your friend Commander Seungcheol? He can behave the way he does because there’s nothing more they can take away from him. Like you. You can go back to your life here and live like you always have.”

“NASA is my life. It’s my father’s life and now it’s also San’s life. Everything we have is tied there. The Lazarus Mission has been alive for the past eight years and the Board has been looking for reasons to shut it down for seven of them. I won’t let it go to ruin now just because I feel like throwing a tantrum. Taking punishment and timely diplomacy are just part of the job.”

It grows uncomfortable but it’s exactly what Seonghwa expects. It’s what he is good at: driving people away with hostility. It has happened before and it will likely happen again. He doesn’t have time to regret it, harbour guilt over it and he certainly doesn’t have time for reconciliation of unnecessary workplace relationships. 

Hongjoong is well within his rights to tell Seonghwa to leave. 

But he doesn’t. 

Instead he scratches his chin and says, “That’s a fucked up situation.”

“It is.” Seonghwa replies. There’s a lump in his throat that he doesn’t want to think about.

“Well, I’m good at the ‘taking punishment’ part but definitely not good at the ‘timely diplomacy’ part.” Hongjoong says. “So don’t judge me for wanting to punch the Board members in the face. Especially the one in the blue suit, who talked to you like a creep.”

“Masculine violence is so archaic.” Seonghwa says.

“I know.”

“I don’t condone it. But…once the Mission is over and we’ve both been successful, you have my permission to do what you like.” 

Hongjoong looks up in surprise before a worryingly mischievous grin spread across his face. 

“Okay, good. Because I hate that guy.”

*

San loves it here. 

He loves the big sky and the wide open space. He loves all the old machines and tractors they were allowed to mess around on without fear of punishment. He loves how Hongjoong has rules but at the same time, doesn’t really enforce them as long as they promise to look out for each other. He even loves watching Yunho argue with Wooyoung over trivial things that they were both technically right about. He loves all the activity around him, everywhere he turns, and how none of it has anything to do with tests or “The Mission”. 

Most of all, he loves that Seonghwa came with him and is still somehow talking to Hongjoong on the porch instead of isolating himself in his cone of silence, because his brother is really good at that.

He decides that he likes Hongjoong’s brothers. 

He finds out that Yunho is eighteen years old and Wooyoung is fourteen. He had wanted to drive the old yellow tractor first and tried not to be too disappointed when Yunho held onto the keys and sat in the driver’s seat. They had made it a few metres before Wooyoung complained about the lack of speed and guilt-tripped Yunho into hacking the speed limiter. San had watched as Yunho whipped out a screwdriver from his cargo pants and opened up the tractor hood to re-route some wires and levers. 

The two brothers had bickered over whose turn it was to drive next and San had felt the odd man out. But then suddenly Yunho turned to him, holding out the keys. 

“Test ride was fine. Do you want to give it a go? We’re going in age order. I don’t make the rules.”

He found it funny for some reason. Maybe because Wooyoung started complaining immediately that his older brother definitely did make the rules and they were invalid because they weren’t in his favour.

Yunho reminds him a lot of Mrs Park before she died. They were both kind without pitying. Supportive without being condescending. Fair and even, like a strong boat out at sea. Mrs Park was the one who insisted he stay in regular school for as long as possible and tried to find him friends his own age. It didn’t really work, she ran out to time, and he threw himself into NASA training after she died. 

As for Wooyoung. Well, he’s… a lot. Of everything all at once.

At first he was quiet, eyeing San warily, and then he wouldn’t shut up. He was loud when he fought with Yunho but quiet when he was thinking of something. A know-it-all for sure but somehow not competitive in the way San was expecting. He’s not sure how it’s possible to be over friendly and distant at the same time but apparently it is.

The wild oscillations left him unsettled and feeling unpleasantly out of control. 

He’s startled back to the present when something touches his shoulder. 

“Huh?”

“I said, do you want to see the drone we found?” Wooyoung asks as soon as Yunho walks off to talk to Hongjoong. “The one that helped us get to the NASA headquarters.”

“Wait, that was a true story? I thought Seonghwa made it up.”

“Nope, it’s a real drone but I don’t want Yunho to come, he’s just going to be so boring about it.” Wooyoung says as he grabs San’s shirt sleeve. “Come on.”

San doesn’t even get the chance to reply, just looks down curiously at where the fingers grip his shirt as he follows Wooyoung towards the house. They run past a suspicious Seonghwa and confused Hongjoong, until they reach the basement. 

Instead of dark, dingy and creepy, it was warm and stuffed full of electronics and tools and farming parts. When Wooyoung hits the lights, he finally sees the half dissected drone laying on a large wooden workbench in the middle of the room.

“Woah.” San breathes out. “This is an old one from the army. There’s more of these at our headquarters but I’ve never seen one of them up close before.”

“I knew it!” Wooyoung exclaims, mostly to himself. “I knew they were hiding more of them at NASA.”

San gingerly walks around the drone, hand hovering for a moment, before resting it on the cool metal. It still feels alive somehow. He lets his fingers run through the exposed wires and over the remaining electric boards. 

Wooyoung tracks the movement curiously, watching how gentle and oddly reverential the touch is. 

“How did it help you find the headquarters?” San asks, now crouching to look deep into the drone’s outer shell. “Seonghwa said you figured out the co-ordinates?”

Wooyoung jumps onto one of the benches as San inspects the drone. 

“Hongjoong thinks our entire farm is on a magnetic plate, that’s why the drone was circling above us. He also knew it was military so when he found the binary lines on my bedroom floor, he figured the co-ordinates were to an old military base and he was right.”

“Woah, that’s kind of badass.” San marvels. “Your brother is seriously so cool.”

“I know.” Wooyoung nods proudly. “He’s always been cool.”

“You’re lucky he’s your brother.” 

Wooyoung hums before asking, “Are you really training to be a pilot like him?”

“Yeah.” 

“So you’ll go to space one day?”

“Yep.” 

“That’s seriously so cool.”

It is cool but San shrugs it off, not used to even having a conversation like this with anyone who wasn’t already in NASA doing the exact same thing or something even better. He isn’t used to thinking that ‘going to space’ is some extraordinary feat and not just an expected rite of passage for NASA kids. And he definitely isn’t used to anyone being genuinely impressed by anything he does. 

“It’s not gonna be for a few years.” He replies with a grimace. “I’ve got a lot more training to do.”

“Do you like it?” Wooyoung asks. “Hongjoong hardly ever talks about it. He keeps saying it’s classified but as if I’d tell anyone. Who would I tell anyway? Yunho is good at keeping secrets too.”

San is surprised by the questions. It’s not the one he expected and he doesn’t have a pre-planned answer ready to go.

“Um, yeah I like it. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I think I’m pretty good at it.” San says carefully. “Not as good as your brother though.”

And San can tell that the brothers don’t talk about flight training or Hongjoong’s history much because now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to look surprised.

“So he used to be a really good pilot?”

San gives him a deep dimple smile. “He’s still really good at it. He’s kinda crazy.”

“Oh, well that I definitely do know.” Wooyoung smiles back. “Seonghwa is cool too though.”

San has to laugh at that. It’s not every day someone says that about his brother.

“What? Seonghwa’s awesome. He can build robots can’t he?”

“He’s built three so far and I think there’s a fourth one somewhere.”

San pauses abruptly, suddenly remembering that he was talking to a non-NASA person, that he had signed an NDA when he entered training, that he should shut up right now. 

“Okay don’t tell anyone I told you that. I don’t think I was supposed to.”

Wooyoung nods knowingly. “Don’t worry I won’t say anything. It’s probably classified information right?”

San nods, chewing his bottom lip.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Okay but there’s FOUR of them?!” Wooyoung hisses loudly. “Are they all like CAASI?!”

“Wait, you know about CAASI?” San whips his head up, confused. “How?!"

“When Hongjoong and I broke into your headquarters. We met Seonghwa and CAASI and the Professor. Oh and Yeosang. He’s nice.”

San’s mind is reeling. Seonghwa hadn’t told him all that.

“Well, there’s LEO, he’s CAASI’s little brother, but other two don’t have names yet.” San says. 

Wooyoung is still perched on a bench, swinging his legs and looking too excited over classified information. 

“What do they do exactly? Seonghwa said they’re programmed to solve problems and for flight navigation.”

San nods. “They can do so much more than that. I don’t even really know everything. They don’t tell the pilot trainees all the details.”

It was the truth. 

San might be living with Seonghwa and the Professor but he knows there’s so much information that’s classified and deliberately kept from him. He’s stopped feeling offended about it years ago, knowing that information leaks would only get Seonghwa and the Professor in trouble. 

“That’s so cool.” Wooyoung says, and San wonders if he’ll say that about everything. 

“Yeah it’s pretty cool.”

“I can…umm builds robots too. Do you want to see one?” Wooyoung asks nervously, voice faltering half way through, like he changed his mind after starting the sentence. “I’ve got them here, I mean, if you want to see them. They’re not as good as all the ones you’ve seen at NASA, obviously, but anyways, it’s okay if that’s boring, actually nevermind.”

“No, I want to see them.” San says, still marvelling at how a person could use so many words to make an offer then withdraw it immediately in the same breath.

Wooyoung looks at him for a few moments, as if to gauge whether he’s being genuine or not. But he must have eventually decided because he jumps off the bench and sets off up the stairs.

“Okay, be right back.”

San nods and sits down at the workbench to wait. There’s scattered papers next to the drone, detailed schematic drawings mixed in with rough doodles of robots that look like CAASI but less blocky. He’s trying to read the terrible handwriting but pounding footsteps into the basement makes him look up. 

“Okay, don’t laugh.” Wooyoung says, as he gingerly places a robot on the ground. It’s a mismatched block of dark grey metal accented with Lego pieces in purple and green. There are two small ‘ears’ where the head is. It stands just over thirty centimetres tall. It looks ridiculous but also oddly impressive.

“This is SPIKE.”

“Spike?” San snorts. “You didn’t name it after an ancient old scientist like Seonghwa does?” 

“SPIKE is an ancient old space pilot.” Wooyoung replies seriously. “Haven’t you ever watched Cowboy Bebop?”

San laughs in earnest then. 

This guy is so weird.

 “Well I wasn’t going to call him R2D2 or something.” Wooyoung pets the robot proudly and fondly. “Seonghwa named CAASI for Isaac Newton right? I figured that one out but who did he name LEO after?”

“Galileo.” San says. “The father of-“

“-astronomy and modern physics.” Wooyoung finishes easily. “That makes sense.”

San hops off the stool and crouches down to inspect SPIKE more closely. As rudimentarily as it looks, he can tell from the intricately melded metal and wiring that it was built with a lot of time and care. 

“So what can he do?”

Wooyoung pulls out a remote control and flips a switch behind SPIKE’s ear. 

There’s a jerky whirr that makes San scoot back. And then, the robot starts walking across the basement floor. When it reaches the wall, it doesn’t turn, but simply starts walking backwards towards them again. 

“It’s multi directional.” Wooyoung says by way of explanation. “But only forwards and backwards. I haven’t figured out the rest yet.”

“So kinda like a tank?”

“Exactly like a tank!” Wooyoung nods, smiling excitedly that someone gets it.

“I can’t believe you built that.” San stands up. “It’s really cool."

Wooyoung reaches down to scoop up his robot and place him on the workbench. “Well, Seonghwa was building way more advanced stuff at my age.”

San rolls his eyes. “Yeah but Seonghwa was a total nerd who had no friends. Literally nothing has changed.”

Discomfort flashes across Wooyoung’s eyes as he nods along.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” San adds quickly. “I’m just saying that Seonghwa isn’t normal and nobody should expect be like that!”

Wooyoung’s hand closes protectively around one of SPIKE’s legs. “I wouldn’t mind being as good as him.”

San tilts his head.

“Why do you want to be like him? What if you turn out better?” He says earnestly and means it. 

Wooyoung shrugs, unconvinced. “Yeah, maybe.”

*

“Oh my god, here you are!” Hongjoong says with relief when he finds Wooyoung and San in the basement. “What are you doing down here? It’s so dusty.”

“Is that a robot?” Seonghwa asks, pointing to the block of Lego-metal on the workbench. 

Wooyoung brightens and nods. “Yeah this is SPIKE.”

“SPIKE?” Seonghwa chuckles, “Who did you name him after?”

“Cowboy Bebop."

“Oh right, of course.” Seonghwa replies without batting an eyelid. “He looks good. Does he move?”

Hongjoong hops onto the bench as he watches Wooyoung excitedly turn the robot back on and show off his handiwork to another audience member. San moves to sit down next to him.

For all his prickly and guarded exterior, Seonghwa is unexpectedly warm and generous with his attention and patience. He nods and asks questions when it’s needed and knows to stay quiet when Wooyoung explains his overly ambitious visions. It’s a natural exchange, not just an adult pretending to care, it twists something in Hongjoong’s chest and he wishes his brothers could’ve grown up with two actual parents instead of a struggling substitute.  

“Are you okay?” San asks, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Hrm? Yeah, I’m fine. I think I just zoned out a bit.”

“He does that a lot.” Wooyoung says. “I just don’t think he likes robots.”

Seonghwa raises a curious eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“What? No.” Hongjoong protests. “I never said I didn’t like them. Where did you get that idea from?”

“You called SPIKE a ‘metal menace’.” Wooyoung says accusingly. “Then banned him from the house for three days.”

“He is a menace! He tracked mud through the entire kitchen and ran over my toes last week. What’s worse than metal and Lego rolling over your toes? Nothing.”

San cackles loudly and even Seonghwa looks amused. 

“Maybe SPIKE can detect an unbeliever in its midst.”

Hongjoong gives Seonghwa a deadpan look. “It’s a robot. It’s not sentient.”

“Yet.” Wooyoung adds ominously before turning to Seonghwa. “Do you think it’s possible? You’ve done it haven’t you?”

“I don’t think it’s impossible.” Seonghwa says carefully. “It’s an incredibly difficult program to write but I think it will be fully achievable one day with the right scientist. It might be necessary, in case you need a robot army against narrow minded older brothers.”

“When was I narrow minded? I’m very open minded!” Hongjoong says indignantly, turning to San for moral support, only for the teenager to just give him the thumbs up . “Who do you think buys all the Lego and electronics?!”

“It’s fine.” Seonghwa says calmly, if not condescendingly. “Only people with refined tastes and high intelligence can appreciate complex robotics.”

They’re laughing at his expense and Hongjoong swears there’s an epic comeback on the tip of his tongue but the pounding of Yunho’s footsteps causes them all to turn towards the basement’s entrance. 

“Um, just wondering if you guys are staying for lunch? It’s nearly one-thirty and if we don’t feed him soon Wooyoung’s gonna turn into a gremlin.”

“Shut Up Yunho!”

Seonghwa shakes his head, ignoring San’s pleading eyes, “Thank you but I’m afraid we’ll have to head back home to check on our father.”

San pouts quietly in his seat. 

“But maybe next time?” Seonghwa adds as a compromise.

“No problems, just checking!” Yunho smiles easily and trudges back upstairs.

“We really should be going now actually.” Seonghwa says, petting SPIKE’s head carefully. “I don’t want to get caught driving in the late afternoon dust.”

“Oh yeah, good idea.” Hongjoong nods as they all stand to make their way out of the basement. The jubilant energy fizzles out. San is pouting aggressively and Wooyoung only quietly nods as Seonghwa tells him to persist with SPIKE’s development.

Outside, afternoon sun had slipped behind a hazy cloud. There’s a more obviously breeze that stirs the dust now and even though the hour wasn’t that late yet, both the atmosphere and light have visibly dimmed, much like his mood. 

“Well, drive safely, hope you miss the late dust fog. Tell the Professor that I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“I will.” Seonghwa nods. 

Hongjoong turns to an obviously grumpy San. “If you ever need to deal with your frustrations or boredom, I’d rather you take it out on a fifty dollar tractor and not a million dollar NASA machine okay?”

Wooyoung mouths a quiet ‘what?!’ in the background that San pretends he doesn’t hear. 

“Okay, thanks Hongjoong.” San says sheepishly before waving to Wooyoung and Yunho and getting into the truck. “See you next time.”

And then there were two.

“Hope it wasn’t too boring for you today.” Hongjoong says, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“It wasn’t.” Seonghwa replies.

“Okay, good.” Hongjoong hums. “I meant what I said before though; if he’s getting restless and annoying, you can drop him off here. Let them roll in mud and run around or whatever.”

“They’re teenagers not toddlers.”

Hongjoong shrugs. “Same difference.”

Seonghwa smiles. It’s possibly the first time it’s directed right at Hongjoong’s face and he’s not sure what to do about it. 

“Thank you Hongjoong.” Seonghwa says, looking back at San in the truck. “I think San enjoyed himself. I hope he didn’t break anything.”

“Oh….yeah, no no he didn’t.” Hongjoong stutters. “It’s no problem, err, Seonghwa.”

There’s a smirk. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name like that.”

“Well, that’s the first time you’ve said mine.” 

“No, its not.” 

“Yeah, well…whatever.”

Hongjoong wonders how they got to this place. And how it’s possible that he’s met yet another version of Seonghwa today: not the intimidating interrogator or smirking genius or the man who showed incredible restraint during this morning's meeting.

No, he met San’s brother on his porch this afternoon. 

He wonders which version he’ll meet next. 

“Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

“Bye…Seonghwa.”

He waves then stands until the truck is out of view and the dust cloud has settled on their dirt driveway. As he turns to go inside, he’s blocked by a very smug looking Yunho leaning against the doorway.

“Just a guy from work, huh?”

[lissomelace]

⭐️ i would love to hear any director’s commentary about point of pride!

Okay, I got this and my mind proceeded to go COMPLETELY BLANK of anything to talk about. So since this one is more general about the AU, I’m going to talk about the Aulendi.

I often tell people that if I could be anything in the world, I would want to be a Ñoldor elf, despite the murder. This is because I love making stuff, and really love how significant it is to their culture and identity. (and problems. I must not forget the problems.) So the majority of the Aulendi either a) do things I really want to do, or b) do things I have at least a little experience with. Which is why I love writing them, and loved building out their world.

TaÞarwen is (I think) the first one that I wrote in, and I sort of made her and that scene out of a combination of things, including: my dislike of fast fashion as an institution, my love of the Gender Neutral Skirt ™ (seriously, so many people wore ‘skirts’ for so much of history. They are SO much easier than pants), and my conviction that making proper clothing takes a whole lot of time and effort.

(You may notice that Findaráto still doesn’t have the custom outfits. Because it takes time to craft something Really Really Nice, and immortal elves who are also devotees of the god of craft most definitely take the time to Do Things Right.

That said, it IS coming up!)

And the other significant ones we’ve seen are Meryanilda and Tiquwen. My experience with harps is definitely on the ‘making’ rather than the ‘playing’ side, but I’m still very new to making them, and have only dabbled. Still, I enjoyed getting to feature them and the sort of interplay between their craft, practiced by the Aulendi, and someone like Makalaurë, who has a competitive AND collaborative desire to work around and with the masters of HIS craft. Which is practiced to less of an institutional degree among the Aulendi.

When I started planning this story and universe, I started from the threesome and worked outward. What safe place could Findaráto find? What made Fëanáro’s family different from the other Ñoldor to such a degree that they had completely separate gender roles and social culture?

…It had to be craft. The fact that there is a culture in which craft is important and respected is still very different from a culture of craftspeople. Historically speaking, however much craftspeople were respected (or not) they were not a ruling class. Ruling classes are generally politicians, by birthright or (more rarely) election, religious leaders, and economic ones. Similarly, in my reading experience, I see few examples of actual craftspeople among the royal Ñoldor. The specific examples are Míriel (dead), Fëanáro (…complicated), Mahtan (among Aule’s folk, not Tirion, not royal), Nerdanel (same as Mahtan, don’t know if/how she fit into the court, but my guess is no), and Curufinwë II and III.

Most of the next generation comes into their own in Beleriand. They’re politicians, rulers, warriors, generals. They build things, yes, like cities (Turgon and Finrod), ships (Eärendil, with clear Telerin influence from Círdan), and Maeglin (half-Sindar, specifically learned smithing from his Sindarin father and not his Ñoldorin mother). There are a few other notable smiths, but still. Not directly in or from the ruling line, save Curufinwës 1-3.

(I'm not saying they aren't a culture of crafters, I'm just saying for the purposes of this story, I engineered a split working off of a potential subdivision in canon. Also, a culture is more than just the ruling line, that's only where we tend to focus because those are the significant and named figures in canon)

So that’s kind of where the split came from, in Point of Pride. The Ñoldor respect craft, and it is what their culture is known for, but most of the people who specifically devote themselves to it as a calling can be found in Aulë’s lands, which I feel has at least a little canonical justification. Even if they wouldn’t see themselves as priests, disseminating the work and ideas formed in his forges to the broader Ñoldorin culture at large is kind of the role they play in this story. And because of the physical and social distance, they had the room to develop in a drastically different way (as much as the two-way unawareness might be a bit unrealistic). I like the idea that the farther one gets from a strict social ‘court’ and the closer one gets to a sort of egalitarian unification of ideals and purpose in proximity to a literal deity, the more protected one gets from strict social consequences. And the less close someone is likely to look. Like nuns, who were allowed/required to eschew the social requirement of marriage for religious purposes (not an expert, don’t quote me on that). I’m not saying the Aulendi are religious figures to that sort of strict level, but by opting into the inner circle of a Vala, they are effectively opting out of the monarchy and the social structure of the Ñoldor, knowingly or not.

(Yes, this will cause problems later.)

Well, that was probably way too much!! Thank you for the chance to (over) explain some thoughts I had! I hope you enjoy reading this excessive wall of text, and thank you for the ask!

[peaterookie]

Lupin Sansei or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the World

Hi! A friend has allowed me to post their fanfic and has requested to stay anonymous.

This fanfic details the events after Shin Lupin III and is written in the perspective of Monkey Punch, much like the mini novel "Lupin III, the Dream-eating Adventurer." I hope you enjoy my friend's work!

“Last Wednesday the news was made public. Lupin the Third and his gang had died in a horrible explosion in 1981. They really waited a whole year to make this public.”

“Now, I ask you my dear readers… Why do you think this was like this? Bureaucracy? Press rights? No, nothing like that… They wanted to confirm it, they wanted to make it official that this man was dead…”

“But if you ask me, my dear readers, I don't believe any of that garbage, Lupin the Third is still alive…!!”

“I don't have any proof or any idea where he might be right now, but one thing I can know and say with certainty is that wherever you think he is, he's not there…”

“The last time I heard about him through the news was that the famous Detective Starmo from the United States had died... no, he had been murdered…”

“The news presumed that Lupin had been in the city of San Francisco for a full week or even a month, but I myself can tell you with my hand on my heart that one day, before seeing that news I saw him circulating on the borders of the town where I live: Hokkaido, Japan…"

“He and I are no longer what you could call strangers, but the last time I documented anything about him was during my short stay in New York."

“I saw him in a situation that was completely incomprehensible to me. He was simply buying fruits at the store I always go to. But this time I decided that I would be the one who would start everything, I would be the one who would start the conversation, but when I arrived, he was no longer there.”

“You saw him?” I asked the lady who owns the place. “Did you see that man? It was Lupin…!!!”

“As if it was a bad joke, the lady looks at me with a naive face and tells me that she doesn't know that man.”

“Now I ask you, my dear readers, how is this possible? How can a man steal the Statue of Liberty and then be forgotten from the collective consciousness?”

“In the time that I have been writing this diary, I have received many letters of admiration and appreciation, people casually tell me that they love my character… Now, I need to leave something very clear, this man is real, he's not fiction, Even I had trouble accepting that I live in the same reality as him, but yes, I can confirm and maintain without a doubt in my soul that Lupin the Third is real.”

“This does not mean that with his death the stories in this diary have ended, not at all, my dear readers, I still have many experiences to tell about him.”

“Why? You see, at the moment I left the store already disappointed, after trying to make the lady understand the seriousness of the situation she had just experienced, she interrupts me and says:

“That boy, Lupin, left you a piece of paper. He told me to give it to you.”

...

“I have big plans, I want you to pay attention to the world.”

The End.

[jacksgreysays]

How I would theoretically write an Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint x Hades (Supergiant Games) crossover (2023-09-05)

I'm sure this crossover is already out there in the world, but let me throw in my attempt:

It starts with death, because of course it must. When Kim Dokja is a child, his father’s abuse goes too far—the first of Kim Dokja’s many deaths decades too soon—but not before Kim Dokja can land a mortal blow of his own. In that moment, Kim Dokja avenges himself.

In horror, in grief, Lee Sookyung watches her son die while doing what she should have done long ago. In grief, in desperation, Lee Sookyung—for she is where Kim Dokja inherited his love of stories—travels to the Underworld to make a deal. She goes, specifically, to the Olympus Underworld because in Olympic mythology killing a monstrous father is not a sin, but rather the makings of a god. If she is clever enough, if she is determined enough, if she is willing to make a sacrifice, then she can give her son the life he should have had. Or, at the very least, a better one than the one she gave him originally.

Lee Sookyung is all of these things. But most important of all, she is lucky enough to be dealing with the Supergiant Games version of Persephone who is, presumably after the events of Hades and Hades II, experiencing empty nest syndrome, what with Zagreus and Melinoe presumably going out on adventures with their respective loves of their lives.

In the face of Lee Sookyung’s maternal devotion, Persephone offers to retrieve Kim Dokja’s soul from wherever it originally landed and have him raised as a prince of the Underworld, an heir to Hades, etc etc and condemn his father to the furthest, most painful corners of Tartarus under the supervision of the Underworld’s most sadistic Furies (aka, Alecto.) And whenever Lee Sookyung dies, she will be allowed to meet with Kim Dokja once again as a shade, before going on to wherever her soul is destined for.

Lee Sookyung’s counteroffer: yes to Kim Dokja being raised as a prince of the Underworld, an heir to Hades, etc etc. However, let his father take Lee Sookyung’s place in the land of the living where he will have to face the consequences of killing his son and wife. Let his relatives know the shame of having such a man in their family haunt them publicly. Let the neighbors who saw and heard and did nothing feel the weight of guilt for the rest of their lives. And in exchange let Lee Sookyung serve the House of Hades for the rest of her afterlife, so that she may watch her son grow protected and loved as he should have been in life.

In the face of Lee Sookyung’s vindictiveness and, also, combined willingness and talent for paperwork (there’s SO MUCH that needs to be done) both Nyx and Hades are now also on board.

So what I’m saying is, Lee Sookyung becomes a manager in the House of Hades for processing paperwork (gods know even with his improvements, Hypnos still needs the help) and gets to actually watch Kim Dokja grow up happy and healthy(? how does health work for denizens of the Underworld?) and so, so loved.

That would be the set up.

Then we jump to what wouldn’t even be Hades III (this time it’s Kim Dokja’s adventure where he meets the KimCom) but rather the aftermath of Hades III in which he FORGOT TO TELL KIMCOM HE IS THE PRINCE OF THE UNDERWORLD and that his “natural state” is BEING DEAD and so the KIMCOM HAVE TO FIGHT THEIR WAY DOWN TO TARTARUS WHERE THEY THINK THEIR BELOVED LEADER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED/SENTENCED TO AN ETERNITY OF SUFFERING but instead they’re just kind of like when your child’s friends show up at the house unexpectedly and you gotta figure out if you have enough snacks and entertainment.

No, Kim Dokja cannot go up to the surface world to play right now, he’s been neglecting his princely duties as heir to Hades (since, you know, Zagreus and Melinoe DO NOT WANT TO DO PAPERWORK FOR THE REST OF THEIR EXISTENCES and, like how he inherited his love of reading from Lee Sookyung, Kim Dokja honestly doesn’t MIND paperwork and isn’t too bad at it in comparison to his older siblings) but if you’d like to wait until he’s done, you can check out the various levels of the Underworld, go sight seeing, maybe join an Elysium tournament. KimCom, once the adrenaline has worn off and they stop being annoyed at Kim Dokja for LITERALLY NEVER MENTIONING HE IS A PRINCE OF THE UNDERWORLD, decide to hang out.

It’s very wholesome. Maybe Zagreus and Melinoe show up to haze their baby brother’s friends. Shin Yoosung and Cerberus CANNOT BE SEPARATED. Possibly Yoo Sangah is a cousin from Olympus who frequently ran away to the Underworld to escape the unfair expectations of her divine parent(s), so of course SHE knew the whole time, she just thought it would be funny not to say anything either.

Anyway, hope everyone is doing well.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Kingdom Hearts 4 Challenge Day 6: A World to Revisit

Atlantica

(So, I swear all of my posts really aren't meant to be about Kairi. Like, I was going to make this cool manip where it looked like Sora was saving Melody from drowning, but my Sony Vegas refused to open for some reason? So I just decided to post these similar images of Melody and Kairi instead. That being said... while I don't need Kairi to be the one to go to a The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea world if we ever got one--I'd be more than okay with it being Sora--that would be cool. I'd love to see mermaid Kairi, since Kairi is named for the sea. And Kairi's name can even mean "melody." And she has a lot in common with Ariel. I even suspect she was somewhat based on Ariel, but anyway.)

The reason I would want Atlantica is honestly just because I would want a pretty underwater world again with the Unreal Engine graphics. And that can be a world that we've never been to before, like, Atlantis: The Lost Empire. But if we don't get a new one, then I would want an old one like Atlantica here. Plus... even though I don't think this movie is the greatest. At all. I feel like it's okay... and depending on how they handle it, the KH writers could potentially make it better, with what they add to it. Also, I feel like if we go to Atlantica one more time--with better swimming controls, and in an attempt that isn't a musical--we could finally redeem the world. And that would be great to see.

And now, for whatever reason, I'm going to list some other worlds I'd be more than okay with returning (even though I think we were only supposed to list one. Shh.)

Wonderland: But only if the world is expanded and it's a "sequel," via it being based on Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland.

Deep Jungle: I know this will surely never happen, since I know Disney has lost the rights to Tarzan. But on the off-chance they ever got the rights back somehow, I definitely wouldn't mind seeing this world back again, perhaps adapting some of the stories from the TV show, like the stuff with Princess La.

Agrabah: I definitely want to go here one more time and to have the "Aladdin and the King of Thieves" story depicted. (I probably would even prefer this even over Atlantica, actually, even though I want that pretty underwater level). This was one of the better Disney sequels, after all. And Sora most definitely deserves to be there for Aladdin and Jasmine's wedding.

Neverland: I wouldn't be opposed to the second Peter Pan movie being adapted.

The Land of Dragons: I'd be all for us having Mulan II, actually.

The Beast's Castle: I've always wanted "Beauty and the Beast and the Enchanted Christmas." I want to fight Forte. LOL. While I doubt it will happen, for obvious reasons, I feel like they could find a way to do it: like Belle writes Sora and the gang a part of her and the Beast's story that they don't know about (the Enchanted Christmas story) and sends it to them as a gift (maybe even for Christmas?), and once Sora opens it, he somehow gets pulled into said story.

Pirates of the Caribbean: I wouldn't mind a "Dead Men Tell No Tales" world.

The Lion King II: Simba's Pride would be awesome.

I would also kill for Cinderella III: A Twist in Time.

While part of me is loath to mention this one... I feel like no one was completely satisfied with the La Cité des Cloches world in Dream Drop Distance (because of lack of NPCs and that kind of thing). And there is a "The Hunchback of Notre Dame II" that Disney made. Absolutely no one likes this movie, and for good reason. But I don't know... I would be willing to tolerate it, just to see this world in the quality it deserves. And maybe Square Enix could somehow make it better... actually, surely not. But like I said: I could tolerate this just to run around Notre Dame in pretty Unreal Engine graphics.

I know that originally with DDD, the plan was Sora to go to all of the original Fantasia locations and for Riku to go to the ones in Fantasia 2000. But then they realized there were enough locations in the first movie for them both to go to, and they didn't need to crank out the sequel after all (or something like that). So I certainly wouldn't mind getting Fantasia 2000 now, in KHIV.

Tangled I'd love to go here again, if we get to see some of the cool plots from the TV show, that I've watched on YouTube. LOL

Arendelle We all know we'll be going here. It isn't even a question. I just hope that this time, Disney gives Square Enix much more freedom (let Elsa and Anna be party members, please). Since Frozen II is kind of hit and miss. Square Enix could really make something cool with it--like they could have with Frozen in KHIII--if they're allowed some creativity.

Wreck-It Ralph Because no one, and I mean no one, wanted us to first experience this world in KHUX, tbh.

Radiant Garden I just really want to finish some of the plot threads there that are still hanging.

Destiny Islands I just really want to be able to go back here and play, dangit! And maybe finally get to explore the main island!

Shibuya Just let us meet Neku, Shiki, Beat, Joshua, and Rhyme in their Shibuya (even if it's an in the credits thing), if Quadratum isn't theirs and we're not going to meet them (or the Wicked Twisters) in the game, otherwise.

[forffax]

returning the favor with oc asks since i always wanna hear about yours !! if you had to pick like your top 5 favorite characters who would they be and why 👀 bonus if you want to pick your favorite like settings/worlds/universes youve made for ocs too!

OOOUH thank u chase!!!

I'm gonna list out my favs then talk abt my main oc universe a bit ^_^

This got ridiculously long so it's going under a readmore <3

1. Tos Family (sorry this is going to be. the whole family bc I cannot possibly choose between them)

i. Lux Tos (he/him)

(realizing now i haven't drawn him in a hot fuckin minute)

MY DAD. guy of all time ever. everyone's favorite half-human time traveling alien war vet. it always feels weird referring 2 him as part alien even if it's technically true sdjfgs. fun lore fact: he was the Dead Older Brother in original iteration Zephyr's Sad Backstory but I liked him too much so I decided he got to live <3

Lux is one of my older ocs that I still actively draw and think abt (late middle school...) and he's changed a LOT over the years but he's so so so dear to me. my guy who has Seen the Horrors and is now happily gay married with a kid :') sdfkjsk most things abt his story is just me being So Incredibly Self Indulgent (cool powers, complicated sibling relationships, gay) but it makes me happy and I love sharing it with ppl! Someday Voided 2 will be real and ready to share with the world...

ii. Ferdinand Tos (he/him)

Dad....2!!!!!! I don't remember when exactly I thought him up but it was probably around when Lux's backstory was getting a major overhaul... He's a man out of time he's training to be a doctor and his will to live is so strong he spent the better part of nearly two decades building himself a new body! Guys who died but got better <3. I think I literally got brain blasted one day and decided he's a non-op trans man and it was the best thing ever for him actually. He's a southern californian stuck in the cold northwest (probably. either that or the northeast im not settled on that aspect yet skdjfs). He's been super fun to write from a worldbuilding perspective too bc his main goal is to pioneer a new branch of medicine using his powers! His relationship with Lux and the rest of the family (and his reconciliation with his sister) is sooooo important 2 me :]

iii. Athanasius Tos (she/her)

THANAAAAA most normal sibling (lie). She was adopted formally right after Lux "died" and had a bit of a complex about just being a "replacement" for a good while, and she THOUGHT she had worked through that when Lux suddenly re-appeared... they're on great terms now but it was Tense. She's a biochemist and probably makes the most out of the household (she shares an apartment with Zeph!) It's very important 2 me that she can let herself be vulnerable with her family and close friends after years of bottling everything up... Epic nerdy autistic butches in your area <3 Fun fact she is the only full human of the main cast!

iv. Zephyr Tos (she/him)

My fuckign auncle. Within the story she only recently realized he was bigender and is much happier for it, even if you couldn't tell by her permanent scowl skjdfgs. Zeph was the original protag (along with Thana) of the short story I wrote in middle school that turned into Voided 2! In-universe he was very clearly supposed to be the protag but missed/ignored the "call to action" phase and just got a shitton of Issues and Traumas instead <3 She's so everything 2 me he's a freelance writer/artist she's kinda cringe and he is trying only as hard as she absolutely needs to in order to get by. While his relationship with Lux is MUCH better than it was when Lux first came back, she's completely inseparable from Thana and would do anything for her (I feel like they spent equal times protecting each other from bullies as kids...) He's changed so much from her original incarnation but developing him has been SO much fun <3 Since Voided 2 runs on real-world time (in that I have specific real-world dates for most major events) she turned 50 fairly recently and that's fucked but also funny. old.

v. Alan Tos (any)

Alan! Love this kiddo. He's Lux and Ferdinand's adoptive kid! Xe doesn't learn about it for a while but she was a government secret experiment test-tube baby (they were trying to artificially fuse souls together, distantly related to the later Child Soldier School ze was placed into) (kid cannot catch a break). He's a good kid, if not a little clueless and naive... someone who would hold no ill-will if you had to cut their leg off (this is not a hypothetical GJSKDS). Somehow, despite all this, she is by far the most Normal out of xer family <3 His fashion sense is some kind of spectrum between 60s businesswoman and scene and tbh? Very fun to draw! Her friends and family are very very dear to them and at the moment xe's just kind of letting life take zem wherever.

2. Vague (it/they)

unauthorized fucking thing kill it with hammers NOW!!!!!

Vague started as I think just a proxy for myself in vent art I drew in like early high school sdhjfgds they have since become. something. my mascot I guess? (I still end up using it for vent art sometimes bc it's functionally unkillable and it's fun 2 get narsty sometimes.)

originally it was just the weird cat-shaped angel thing but a couple years ago I gave them a human design that I really love too <3 vague technically has a place in Niko and my other cat furry ocs' story but their human form exists in the real world and is just Like That i think. vague is just a little guy okay? they're sorry about crying and bleeding all over the place (not bc it sees any issue with this they just noticed you looked upsetskjdfhs)

3. Niko (he/they)

Baby's first fursona! Niko was always mostly his own character but now that I have new This is Just Me sona(s), they've been officially retired from that front <3 Niko's story is mostly planned out, I just desperately need to write it somewhere skjdbfs but the gist is that Niko works a shitty minimum wage call center job and finds meaning and love through forming a band with people he happens to meet... also there's some whistleblowing and betrayal and vague slams down out of the sky at some point <3 Niko's band doesn't have a name but they're the lead vocalist! (Niko 🤝 Blue (is blue and sings in their band)) This is a universe where everyone is cat furries simply bc I wanted to design lots of cat furries but also I haven't drawn like half of his bandmates/friends.... orz

Fun fact I found my original doodles of him in an old math notebook and apparently I seriously considered the name "chandler" for them. Help,

4. Larkspur (they/them)

Laaark my friend lark :] they're my player character for a friend's tabletop campaign! *hands you a bug* *hands you a bug* *hands-

Their design was super fun to come up with and they're fun to play as :] They were raised on a farm and have a deep love for animals (insects in particular), but they have a hard time connecting with others and understanding why people act the way they do.. They wear an eyepatch to cover their multiple other eyes bc it gives them bad sensory overload to see with them! They also spent quite a bit of time as a bounty hunter before they were blacklisted from further work bc they let a target escape on purpose... Lark is a ranger/bard and they play the hurdy-gurdy! They're dear to me and I really need to draw them more sjdfhgs

5. Chungy Fresh (she/he/they)

Chungy my belungy.... she's a mimic who spent most of his life being a chest in the temple of a forgotten goddess until they gained sentience and saw a fursuit from far away and decided yep! I'm gonna look like that Now <3 She didn't get all the details right but he's never been happier! I think Chungy spawned from me drawing a weird fox thing and simultaneously thinking "hey wouldn't it be funny if a character had a verbal text/forum signature and it was also their name" skdjfgjskdfls. Chungy is def up there with "most fun ocs of mine to draw" bc she's so Noodly and Malleable... I started playing as him in a friend group's tabletop oneshot thingy (where multiple ppl write different unrelated oneshots but we use the same characters for each session) and it has been a lot of fun!

OKAY OC UNIVERSE TIME. I call my main oc story "Voided 2" bc it takes place in the same universe as my v personal self insert oc story "Voided" that I have been working on/writing/thinking abt since late middle school... It's kinda vaguely modern fantasy/sci-fi? Main things are that there are beings born at the beginning of the universe made of pure energy called Lunoirs. There are countless universes, and each universe has Lunoirs in some capacity. They mainly exist to "keep the balance," but if you ask any specific Lunoir what that means you'll get a million different answers. Mainly they gravitate towards any life within their universe and integrate with them, observing them and protecting them from Shadows and Vacares. Shadows are the unliving souls that will eventually be reborn and reformed into a living soul inside any given universe-- they exist in the space between universes, called the Void. the Void looks different to any being that crosses into it, and it's hard to say what its "true" nature is. Vacares are Lunoirs that have had their souls corrupted and eaten, usually by other Vacares. While Shadows, being amalgamations of soul energy, are strictly neutral, Vacares seek to cause chaos and eat more Lunoir souls, increasing their numbers in a vain attempt to satisfy their endless hunger.

The Lunoir population on Earth is fairly numerous, and since Lunoirs can take on whatever form they choose, many of them live and love and have children with humans, making partial-lunoir children (physically they are nearly indistinguishable from full humans, save for longer lifespans, odd hair and eye colors, and sharper teeth. also they have semi-physical wings, but these have to be manually brought out and often ppl don't even know they have them (*cough* zephyr *cough*)

Lunoirs aren't fully immortal, but they have a different life cycle to most other forms of life. When a non-lunoir dies, their soul disintegrates and is amalgamated with the souls of others in the Void to become Shadows. When a Lunoir dies (outside of having their soul completely corrupted/destroyed), they instead go into a sort of stasis and are reborn later; they have no memories of their previous life (the ones on Earth don't, at least) and they can take on wildly different appearances.

Lunoirs and partial Lunoirs have powers in the form of energy manipulation, particularly when it comes to the energy of their own souls... They can use their souls to form weapons, mainly to fight against Vacares that tend to be immune to physical weapons. Most people have one weapon that they specialize in, but in a pinch nearly everyone can form a knife. Humans can manipulate their own soul energy in this way too, but this ability must be taught/"unlocked" by a Lunoir or a partial Lunoir first (Zephyr, at some point, did this for Thana without either of them realizing it). Lunoirs can also manipulate the energy of the very universe to create Rifts in time and space, sometimes leading between separate universes... These rifts also open of their own accord from time to time, and there's a good number of people who have been displaced from their time or even their universe by unwittingly falling into one.

Every living being has a "soul" (a collection of their life energy), and through a kind of "reaching out," one can feel/taste/smell/hear/see another's soul... every soul is a bit different, so this is an easy way to identify people even from a distance!

The Earth Lunoirs once had a country where they congregated called Saluria, which was the site of a brutal multi-year war against an army of Vacares that wanted reign over Earth... Many Lunoirs and partial Lunoirs across all of Earth's history felt drawn to Saluria, often willingly or unwillingly being rifted to the time of the war to go fight in it... Some partial Lunoirs especially believed it was their sacred duty, while others believed it was a curse leading them to inevitable death... there's even whispers that Saluria itself is alive, luring in young partial and full Lunoirs out of self-preservation.. who's to say. Ultimately, the Salurian War was a victory, but not an easy one.

Lux and Zephyr are half Lunoirs (their mom being full), and Ferdinand is 3/4ths Lunoir! Alan is a bit of a weird case but functionally he's also half Lunoir :]

This is v much simplifying Years of worldbuilding ssjhdfgjks and I can FEEL I missed a bunch of stuff but it's all very very dear 2 me :]

[piggyette]

if you don't know me, i treat ask games like surveys because ask games as we know 'em are pretty much dead. here's the og

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

guitar hero 2, deviantart x reader fanfics, not being allowed to watch horror movies as a child

show us a picture of your handwriting?

3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

i'm not a big movie person, but probably zero day, the original child's play, and crash

what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

kitty synth, "wentzian", bathroom updates, pig as a slur

what made you start your blog?

old one got too much anon hate

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

there are so many images of pretty men to be found. some of them are dead.

what scares you the most and why?

probably the prospect of instability. i imagine its bc i moved a lot as a child

any reacquiring dreams?

in the case u meant reoccuring, not particularly. i have a bad memory.

tell a story about your childhood

oh, you dont want that.

would you say you’re an emotional person?

i learned apparently im more emotional than i even knew, recently.

what do you consider to be romance?

sensuality and the human connection.

what’s some good advice you want to share?

goal setting without clear vision is like building a couch with no instructions, just a picture of the end result.

what are you doing right now?

listening to pretty hate machine by nin and filling out this questionaire

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

learn to drive

what do you think of when you hear the word “home”?

my partner

if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

my need to dig up the corpse to make sure it's really dead down there

name 3 things that make you happy

i. discovering new fetishes ii. my partner system iii. animals

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

its a fool's errand to try and define our surroundings with our limited perception. radio exists. anything is possible.

favourite thing about the day?

the kids playing on the street loud enough to hear from inside.

favourite things about the night?

the quiet coolness.

are you a spiritual person?

that part of me ain't dead yet

say 3 things about someone you love

i. prevailing ii. patient iii. not appreciated enough

say 3 things about someone you hate

when will it ever be enough for you? nothing can learn you. nothing will.

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

trying again.

fave season and why?

autumn. bugs are going away, coats are coming out. halloween and thanksgiving. the bus is going by again.

fave colour and why?

pink, green, and black. they're just nice to look at.

any nicknames?

i get called lee more often than not.

do you collect anything?

records, tarot decks, stuffed animals.

what do you do when you’re sad?

attempt to logicize if i can help it.

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

a live set for my current favorite artist

are you messy or organised?

messily organized

how many tabs do you have open right now?

one pinned, three unpinned

any hobbies?

writing, art, producing music

any pet peeves?

sloppy eaters

do you trust easily?

i'm working on trying to. i can be paranoid, but i don't want to be

are you an open book or do you have walls up?

i think i have more walls up than i realize

share a secret

i'm currently organizing with a stranger to have her steal a dog being neglected by someone in my neighborhood

fave song at the moment?

the only time (nin)

youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

dollar tree dinners. the sheer culinary efficiency and humble kindness...

any bad habits?

worthless martyrdom.