#maybe i will write a post on it some day idk

[bitchfitch]

My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

[mondaymelon]

choose . post options (and random ass q&a) utc !!

-> temporarily pinning this . old pinned !!

"ohhh melon why did you close asks ohhhh melon why arent u taking req" - you, maybe

i closed asks bc i got burnt out answering them !! sorry sorry i suck at interaction even online , they piled up so much i lost a lot of motivation in answering them but hopefully ill get through most of em .. at some point

if you really really need to talk to me like for some reason you genuinely will explode if u don't i do have a sideblog so. just scamper over to there idk

as for reqs... oh man they havent been open for a good half year.. the day will come if i either run out of ideas (which is. uhm probably not possible) , reach record heights of delusional , or simply feel like it . though keep in mind i do selective reqs!! ill only write the ones im interested in qq

"what about the events and series you never finished melon what of them are you abandoning your children" - you, perhaps

hahahahh uhm. im really bad w commitment. so yes, most likely. that one forgotten coffee shop au with kavetham that never even got its first chapter is never coming back.

names once whispered on the breeze (smau) hasn't been posted since like last year june .. i lost interest in the formatting since i gen like writing long posts more and also i did have a plan for the plot but it was shit and i lost interest. sorry for all the people who supported and loved the series but i couldn't reciprocate that same love. i am not paying child support either

500+ and halloween events... in the former didnt expect to get so many requests, and writing 3-ish took every ounce of soul in me. as for halloween, it was fun to write but since im a stupid little 瓜 i couldn't figure out how to end the series. 4 chpaters and a cliffhanger is all yall are getting :P

"melon how could you do this you big fat meanie i am going to boohoo and shit all over u" - you, to the slightest possibility

ok now why would you do that

thanks please vote mwah ilyall

[bigfatbimbo]

Hey there! @hazbinhotelmollykisser here yet again, with the promised bill rambles :)

Forgive me if the following words sound like nonsense, I'm trying lol

SO. I'll be covering the bill with a more powerful reader and sub bill because your works have changed my brain chemistry, masochist bill because I'M GOING INSANE AN I NEED TO BE SEDATED, and bill with a reader that likes to tease him (with a more powerful reader version and a just a human version) because I need to study his reactions to teasing like I'm Stanford studying like... Science + math = triangles or something.

・Bill x More powerful reader

So I actually made an entire oc for this literally as soon as I finished reading the og post, which I will refrain on ranting abt, but the idea of a reader that's more powerful than bill is fascinating to me.

Because like, he's bill so he's obviously gonna try to get under your skin, but imagine a reader that sees his attempts to annoy them and just... Like laughs? A reader that finds his attempts almost endearing? Reverting whatever bill did back to before with just a snap and maybe a passing comment about his mischief.

It would drive him mad I think, he'd be rlly annoyed and pissy about it.

Or alternatively, a reader that does get angry when he tries to annoy them, (a loud and aggressive angry or a quiet festering angry both yielding different reactions from bill) and Bill takes it as motivation to keep annoying you (and it's definitely only because he thinks it's funny and totally definitely no other reason).

(Holy shit this is already getting long)

・Sub!Bill

So obviously a brat right? Like very obviously? We all agree on that.

And this next bit will probably just be regurgitating your points because I can't stop having the same opinions as you,

I personally need to see any + every version of bill cipher getting taken down a peg. Like I need to just. Ruin his life a little. Like I need to cause him mental peril and make it up to him (but actually it's only for me) by making him beg for what he wants and not giving him anything unless he asks out loud because "well I'm not a mind reader" (more powerful reader probably IS but shhhh..)

I want him to cry and beg (as do most people who read your blog honestly)

・masochist bill

Thinking about the way that bill literally talks about going out of his way to inflict pain onto the bodies he "possesses" (? Idk if that's the word I should use) made me think. Like too much thinking too many thoughts, to the point that I at multiple points almost wrote a small drabble in my notes app about it. (I would've if I could think of any words to write down when I need them 😭)

But like he's definitely some kind masochist right?

I can't think of any scenarios for human reader he made a deal with and bill for this category but imagine with me pls, a HUMAN reader, that he made a deal with (is actively trying to manipulate), causing him PAIN somehow (directly or indirectly), and he... DOSENT MIND? because 1. He's gonna have a mental breakdown because of it probably, and 2. He dosent JUST not mind. It's like EXCITING but not normal exciting.

So basically he'd be freaking out.

And with a reader that's more powerful than him? I think it'd be clear as day. Going hand in hand with the angry reader that's more powerful than him thing above, he would absolutely get off on annoying them until they snap at him (specifically the snap at him part). And when reader notices, they're obviously gonna make fun of him because hes being pathetic lol.

I think I have run out of masochist bill words now so onto the next topic.

・tease reader (human) x bill

My main reason for bringing this up is I love the idea of the powerful bill cipher being.. Well, flustered.

Like maybe when it's triangle form bill its easier to hide for him but if it were human bill reader would be able to tell almost instantly probably.

And more opportunities to make fun of bill for being a pathetic little creature are always good :)

・tease reader (more powerful) x bill

OOWOWHEOEJEIEBSJBSISNDH I love this idea so so SO SO SOSOSOSO MUCH!!!3&:28&:9.

SO MANY MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO TEASE AND NOT GET KILLED :)

Like imagine with me, your teasing bill and he gets all "upset" and probably threatens you, you don't gotta back off, you infact can tease him even more for thinking that he can threaten you. Shheheheheheheh.

I think that's all my words, I seem to have run out.

I hope that big lump of nothing text (800-ish words 😰) was enough to make up for my sudden dissapearence after promising to talk about bill TWO WEEKS AGO

Forgive my probably dogshit spelling and grammar pls

and hope you have a good day/night/whatever!

IUAHAHSHSHSHSHHSHDHSHAHS I LOVE THINGS LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! Because it’s like wow, you did all the work for me! 😊

Ugh, this is so good tho. I always love to hear your thoughts, you are one of my FAV anons!!!!!

[chaoticallyfluffy]

Okay so I posted this in the Captain Marvel Fan Club Community earlier:

And I just can’t get it out of my head!! So I’m writing some more about how the game would hypothetically work!

The gods gifts would probably have to be slightly modified to line up with the games ability scores, and each character (up to six) can be blessed with one attribute being much higher than the others, sort to like how the siblings in the movie each specialize in one power! If there were only three players, each could get two!

Solomon gives the gift of Wisdom

Hercules gives the gift of Strength

Atlas gives the gift of Constitution

Murcury gives the gift of Dexterity

Achilles gives the gift of Intellegence

Zeus gives the gift of Charisma

I think everyone’s gift fits pretty well surprisingly! Both Achilles and Atlas were super compatable with constitution, but Achilles was an intelligent man and Atlas… not so much. Maybe Achilles can also give you a health boost or something, idk.

The god who blessed you would likely speak to you occasionally to give you tips, inspiration, advantage, or blessings.

You will be infused with magic straight from the Rock so you aren’t strictly limited to classes related to a god like a paladin Is, (but it would be pretty cool to have a Champion be a paladin ngl.)

You can study how to use your magic with the grimoires in the library and become a wizard, pledge your allegiance to your diety (or a different one? Ooh drama!) and become a sorcerer or paladin, or even abandon your magic all together and use your empowered form to punch your enemies as a fighter! There’s so many paths you can choose!

I don’t know much about the lore unfortunately but It would be pretty cool to explore different worlds whenever there is a magical issue in that universe and have to fight various creatures and villains to achieve your goals!

And at the end of the day, you can go back to Fawcett to either rest or fight the villains invading your town! Maybe even team up with other hero’s or catch the attention of the Justice league!

I already made a character sheet for Captain Marvel that I’ll never be able to use and now I wanna make character sheets for all the villains too lol. What would mr mind even be? Are there evil mind controlling caterpillars in dnd?

Anyway, I’m going to go suffer knowing this game will never exist. Bye! :,D

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.2 (Anemone) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 4,218

Notes: I don't feel like the summary completely matches this story anymore. I'm also not really satisfied with this chapter, but I'm too tired to really get into a whole bunch of drafts and edits, I've just really been feeling poorly lately. The archive is for writing progress anyways, it's fine. I'll probably rewrite this whole chapter if I ever get to where I'd be comfortable posting finished versions to Ao3. I'm also just not fond of my writing style somehow. It feels too formal, doesn't flow enough. Problem is that I really talk like that lmao. Idk, I'll figure it out.

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon <3)

Bangchan clambered into the van behind Felix, Minho and Jisung loading into the row in front of them. It always felt a bit weird to not spend some time swapping seatmates around based on who was clinging to who at the moment, but on days like today it was easier to just board the vehicles as quick as possible.

He's ended up with a relatively quite combination of their cluster today, and Chan was grateful for it as he settled into his seat with a pained grimace.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but a persistent on-and-off pain had been roaming around his back for the last twenty minutes as they’d said goodbye to Stays and prepared to leave the venue. He’d be more worried about it, except the sharp, needle-like, pains would settle into a gentler ache before kicking back up again.

As it was, Chan was pretty sure he’d pinched a nerve or strained something and would simply rest when he got back to the hotel. Maybe call up the PT. For now, as three of his soulmates settled in around him, Chan was content to leave it be.

Well, almost. Another twinge of pain makes him wince as he twists to buckle in, and Chan decides that maybe it’d be a good idea to know what he was working with. For comfort’s sake, if nothing else.

“Felix,” He prods the blond next to him, “Can you look at my back for me? I think I pinched something.” He motions toward his lower back, where the majority of the pain had been accumulating.

Felix immediately nods his acceptance, their group’s resident massage expert always willing to lend a hand. Especially if it let him lay hands on his very well built soulmates.

Chan scooches forward and rotates around, balancing with his hand on the headrest of the seat in front of him. He helps Felix shimmy his shirt upwards, struggling with it where it gets caught in the seat-belt.

Chan ends up stuck struggling on his own as Felix chooses that moment to direct his eyes and hands to the afflicted area.

“There’s your first issue,” Felix tuts, “You’ve left your concealment tape on. You’ll give yourself a rash one of these days, hyung.”

Chan gives a sheepish smile from where he’s managed to trap himself in a cloth prison. His head is free, and the shirt his appropriately bunched up over his shoulders and around his neck. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to free his hands, so he’s got a bit of a t-Rex thing going on right now. It’s fine.

“I forget it’s there,” he confesses with a whine, “I can’t see my own back, y’know?”

Felix rolls his eyes at their oh-so-glorious leader, carefully peeling the thin material away from Chan’s skin as he scolds, “You still need to take it off. We sweat way too much to not at least change it after a performance.”

He’s bunching up the extra-strength tape to maybe toss at Jisung in the front seat (maybe Minho, if he’s feeling very brave), when he spots something off.

More than half a decade into having found each other, the members of Stray Kids were intimately familiar with each other’s soulmarks. Every drop of color, every line, every curve.

So when Felix looks at the freshly uncovered canvas on Chan’s back, familiar trees, bushes, and rocks painting a forested landscape that describes their impact on their eldest, something new immediately catches his eye.

There, on the fallen log that bridged two banks of a crystal-clear creek, was a moss blanket and a cluster little shelf mushrooms. They added life to the previously defunct object, a little bit of color that couldn’t have been said to be missing until it wasn’t.

The closer Felix looked, the more he saw. A mushroom here, a mossy patch there. Little signs of life and decay that he could have sworn weren’t there the last time he looked.

He looks to Jisung, who’s blissfully unaware.

As the first of their cluster to paint Chan’s skin with color, he was the most familiar with their leader’s mark. Jisung had been too young for his own mark to have appeared when he’d met Chan, but that didn’t stop him from influencing their eldest’s. They all knew he’d spent a lot of time studying Chan’s mark (and Changbin’s when it had appeared, already partially colored in) while waiting for his own.

If there was anyone who’d be more than certain of a change in their soulmarks, it’d be Jisung.

Felix swiftly removes his hands from Chan’s back, earning him a little noise of confusion from the prone man, and reaches over to poke Jisung harshly in the side.

Jisung immediately flinches away from the offending fingers with a loud yelp, attracting the attention of Minho, who’d been peacefully scrolling on his phone. Jisung swiftly fixes Felix with an offended glare, ready to retaliate, but is cut off before he can even try.

“Look at Chan’s mark for me.” Felix demands.

“My mark?” Chan echoes, baffled and alarmed. “What’s wrong with my mark?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Felix assures, “I just need to check I’m not seeing things.”

A series of furtive, silent, and, on Felix’s part, urgent, gestures are exchanged before Jisung finally relents and leans around the back of his seat, grabbing Minho’s for balance as the van departs.

Jisung lazily traces his eyes over Chan’s soulmark. All of Stray Kids had huge marks, but Jisung privately thought that Chan had them all beat. His mark spanned his entire back, not an inch untouched by the image. From shoulder to hip was an oil painting of a mark, filled in from what used to be a desolate landscape to what was now a thriving forest.

Jisung used to think it was so overwhelming to be part of such a mark. To be loved so much, and so deeply. It was evident in every brushstroke of the image on Chan’s skin, and in every action of the man himself.

These days, he found great comfort in it.

He’d gotten so lost in thought as he studied his soulmate’s mark that Jisung had almost missed what had caught Felix’s attention in the first place. But sure enough, his eyes catch on the same log that Felix’s had.

“Oh.” He whispers to himself. “Oh.” He says again, as Minho shoves his head under Jisung’s arm to look himself.

“No, yeah, that’s different.” He confirms, Minho nodding against him, having already spotted it for himself. The two of them find their eyes glued to tiny mushrooms, only sparing a moment to glance at each other before returning their gaze to Chan’s skin, each with their own racing thoughts.

“I thought so.” Felix nods to himself.

“What?” Chan questions, becoming more alarmed by the second, “What’s going on? What’s happened? What’s wrong with my mark?”

Felix lays his palms flat on Chan’s back and begins to rub gentle, soothing, circles. Any changes to a soulmark were stressful at the best of times, and they all knew how much Chan treasured his.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Felix soothes, letting the warmth of Chan’s mark resonating with his touch calm them both as he searches for gentle words.

“It’s just,” He begins hesitantly, “Well, the good news is that you haven’t pinched or strained anything.”

“Good news?” Chan echoes, “Is there bad news?” He lets a nervous giggle fall from his lips even as he relaxes into Felix’s hands.

“Not necessarily?” Felix says uncertainly, “It’s just. Well. Your mark has changed.” He pauses a second and pulls out his phone, quickly snapping a picture and then passing it around so Chan can see. “Something’s been added.”

Felix lets the implication of his words sit untouched in the air as the three of them wait for Chan to process what this means.

Ironically, Chan was the least familiar with his own mark out of all of them. His and Minho’s both resided on their backs so it stood to reason that the two of them didn’t see their marks very often. So it was no surprise that it took Chan several, very long, moments to spot the tiny changes.

When he does, Chan pulls in a deep, stuttering breath. The pain is already fading out to an ache now that it’s been acknowledged and Chan isn’t sure how he feels about the extra confirmation.

He carefully pulls his shirt back down, breaking his soulmate’s line of sight like they hadn’t already burned the image onto their retinas. He doesn’t remove his eyes from Felix’s phone.

“I...” He trails off, “I have another soulmate?” His voice is filled with wonder as he marvels at the picture of his mark. He looks up at the rest of his soulmates currently in the van with awe. “We have another soulmate?”

“Yeah,” Minho whispers, voice choked with emotion, “Yeah it looks like it.”

Felix doesn’t wait for Chan to fully turn around before he’s pulling their leader into a bone-crushing hug, giddy, disbelieving, laughter spilling out of him even as tears prick at his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Felix celebrates quietly as Chan wiggles to return his hug just as tightly. “Oh my god.” The other man agrees.

Even as his soulmates celebrate around him, each feeling their own storm of emotions, Chan can’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

Stray Kids was a uniquely large soul cluster. From the beginning, when it had become evident that Hannie wasn’t his only soulmate, it had caused issues. Then came Bin, and the rest had followed like dominos. Each time their circle expanded he’d thought “this has to be it, right?” and each time there was a little voice in the back of his mind saying, “No, not yet.”

The issue was that that feeling, that little voice saying ”not yet”, the knowledge that they weren’t complete, had never gone away.

By the time they had all met, none of them could spot anything obviously missing from their marks. All of them were completely colored, lines drawn, images complete. And yet, every one of them felt that hollowness of an incomplete bond.

They’d talked about it a lot. Individually, as a group, in pairs and in quartets and seemingly endless combinations. It was hard, as the years went by, to ignore that nagging feeling.

Chan would always remember Jeongin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, crying and apologizing for not being enough. Could never forget taking Jisung to a rage room so they could both break down their feelings or drinking with Changbin and wondering if it was wrong for them to be so greedy as to want more when they already had so much.

After so many years, they’d begun to wonder if they were just broken. If they didn’t have another soulmate out there after all, and it was all in their heads.

It had been hard. It was hard.

And now that little blank space in his soul was painted with someone else’s colors and Chan felt whole in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experience.

It kind of made him want to cry.

He wanted to cry even more when Felix innocently asks, “So what were they like?” An unmatched eagerness in his eyes as Chan pulled away.

That one guileless question triggers a realization in Chan that has his groaning in despair and slumping forward back onto Felix’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Chan mumbles into the shoulder of the slighter man.

“What was that?” Jisung questions from where he and Minho were still turned toward him, obviously as curious as Felix.

“I said I don’t know!” Chan wails, wilting further into Felix’s frame.

“How do you not know?” Minho questions incredulously. Felix gasps as he connects dots he’d been too excited to before.

“I didn’t even know my mark had changed before now,” Chan explains miserably, “I don’t even know exactly when the pain started.”

Jisung sucks in a hiss of air, sympathy splashed across his face. “Oh geeze,” he breathes out, “How many people have we met today alone?”

“Ok, well,” Felix interjects, “Not ideal, but we’ll figure it out!”

Minho turns his incredulous stare onto the optimistic man.

"How are we going to figure it out?" He demands, "Because there were tens of thousands of people in that stadium and I know every single one of us shook dozens of hands tonight."

Felix wilts a little bit even as Jisung comes to his defense, "We kind of have to figure it out, hyung," he points out, "And soon. We're back to Seoul soon."

"Okay but how?" Minho challenges, "And don't give me any 'with the power of love and fate' crap."

"We might have to rely on fate." Chan shrugs, dejected. "It's not like I have a description or anything to give out."

"It'll be okay Channie hyung," Felix pats Chan's back lightly from where they're still entangled together, "It'll have to be."

The van descends into silence as the four of them contemplate their new situation. After a few minutes Chan leverages himself up and out of Felix's embrace to frown aimlessly at his knees.

"Well," Felix breaks the silence, "We don’t have any more shows after this, and we have some days of break time, right?”

“Right,” Chan confirms, “We have tomorrow off and then we’re returning to Seoul to start working on the next album.”

“But officially,” Felix hedges, “We have, like, an entire week off, don’t we?”

“Not quite, but sure,” Chan hesitantly agrees.

“Well, we know they were in town for the concert at least,” Felix continues, “So as long as they didn’t leave the city immediately after, I mean, there's seven more first contacts to go, right?”

“Are you saying we should spend our break wandering around trying for first contacts?” Jisung asks, “Because I’m all for searching for them, but I don’t know that aimless wandering is gonna help.”

Chan holds up his hands to halt that conversation before it could devolve into a bigger debate.

“Let’s shelve that for now, and meet up with the others at the hotel,” He suggests, “We should discuss this as a group anyways.”

He receives a variety of agreements and the four of them settle in for the short remaining drive back to their hotel. He absently hands Felix’s phone back to him and retrieves his own from his pocket to ask the others to meet them in his room.

Chan looks out the window, post-concert fatigue all but a memory. As the buildings pass by, he can’t help but hope that their mystery soulmate was looking for them too.

You reaffirm your decision to never ever meet your soulmates as Taylor loads you into the car, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder the whole way.

It was one thing when your stupidly large soul cluster was just an idea. Knowledge you held, but unactionable in any way.

It was another when you had evidence, in the form of little white flowers burning with warmth on your skin, that they were real, physical, people.

Even worse when you knew that they were a group of very famous musicians.

You hadn’t actually been sick when you’d texted Taylor, who’d thankfully managed to get all of the autographs he’d wanted before he’d checked his phone to try to find you, but you were getting there. Anxiety had nausea creeping up your throat like molasses.

You’re beyond grateful when your roommate doesn’t question your sudden illness, the both of you well aware that you were hale and hearty when you’d left the house.

Taylor just buckles you in like you’re something precious and fragile and takes the wheel.

The two of you drive in silence the entire way home. It’s not awkward, but you can’t deny the weight of something heavy in the air. The buzz of the concert still lingered between the two of you, and it only made the silence stifling and itchy.

When you pull into your apartment complex neither of you speak for a long moment.

“Sorry for ruining the day.” You murmur to the air in front of you. Taylor just reaches over to pat your thigh and unclip your seatbelt.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” He assures, “Don’t sweat it.” He hesitates a moment before continuing.

“I’m not gonna push,” Taylor begins gently, “But you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever happened, I’m not gonna judge. I just wanna be here for you.”

“What makes you think something happened?” You mutter mulishly. Taylor just gives you a look that has you sinking into your seat.

“It’s nothing. I’m just being dramatic.” You admit. He bumps your shoulder with his and climbs out of the car.

“It’s not nothing if it makes you feel something.” He tells you as he goes. The two of you walk up to the apartment in silence, contemplative this time.

You think about telling him as the two of you separate to wash the concert off of yourselves. You think about it as you take turns using the bathroom and as you make dinner side by side. You think about it as you settle in front of the couch at his feet as his hands automatically pull your head to his knees, his fingers digging into your hair just how you like.

You want to tell him, you decide. You do. It's just that. Well...

Your sister was right, in a way. You’d known Taylor for over a year now, but the two of you didn’t really know much about each other. You really were just roommates.

You didn’t know what his favorite color was. You didn’t know the names of his parents, or if he had any siblings. You barely knew what he did for a living. He’d only ended up your roommate by virtue of you responding to his “roommate wanted” ad with full willingness to be murdered on the spot.

At the same time, the two of you knew everything about each other. You knew how he took his coffee in the morning, that he preferred his eggs dry and over-seasoned. You knew the bands he liked and the games he played. You knew his hobbies better than you knew your own sometimes, and more about his friend’s drama that you ever wanted to.

You know the important things, you think.

You know that every word you tell him in confidence will be clutched tightly all the way to the grave.

“I met my soulmate today.” You confess, your cheek pressed to his knee, half-asleep.

The words somehow feel like they were snatched from the darkest depths of your soul as they spill from your lips. You make no move to take them back.

Taylor’s hand, to his credit, only pauses for a moment. Then he treats your hushed admission like any other comment made while you nod off to dramas the both of you know you only watch for him, resuming the soothing movement of his hand and humming lightly to acknowledge you.

You think it’s that casual treatment that lets you find the courage to continue.

“Well, one of them anyway.” You mumble. Taylor hums his interest, but doesn't take his eyes off of the screen and doesn’t stop petting your hair.

“I don’t want to meet them. There’s so many of them and only one of me, y'know? I don’t even know how to love myself, how am I supposed to love eight other people?” Taylor says nothing still, his eyes glued to an episode of a drama you know the two of you have already finished three times over.

“I’m scared I’ll fuck it up. I’m scared they’ll fuck me up.” Your voice cracks as you breathe life into one of your deepest fears. You realize as you say it that you’ve never voiced these thoughts aloud before, even to yourself.

Tears prick at the back of your eyes when you admit, “I’m not ready for them. I don’t think I can be.”

Taylor finally gives in to the seriousness of the conversation and hauls you bodily up onto the couch. You go willingly, but with rag-doll limpness. He rearranges you to his liking and you find yourself in Gossip Position, sitting criss-cross facing him.

“First of all,” He starts in, his usual levity giving way to a seriousness you rarely see from him, “Don’t be mean to my best friend. I’ll hit you.” You ignore his threat in favor of the warm feeling in chest at hearing him call you his best friend.

Take THAT Ma! No friends your glorious behind.

“Secondly, you are literally the most loving person I have ever met in my life. You would fit the entire world in there if you could,” He pokes your chest, right above your heart, for emphasis, “So I’m not that surprised you have more than one soulmate.”

“I have eight though,” You argue, “Isn’t that weird?”

Taylor just shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But weird is basically your brand, so...” He trails off with a teasing smirk.

You shove him a bit in retaliation, but he just grabs your wrists to still you and continues speaking before you can argue.

“I don’t think eight soulmates is enough for you, honestly,” He muses, “I mean it when I say you’re the most loving person I know. I think you’d even try to take care of Danny if he needed you to.” The mention of Taylor’s very creepy second cousin sends a shiver down both of your spines.

The worst part is that you can’t even argue with him.

“But you know, even with eight soulmates, you don’t have to be with them.” Taylor suddenly switches tracks to reassure you, “They’re your soulmates sure, but you’re your own person. They’re for you, it’s not like they are you. You can live without, if you really want to.”

The two of you let that statement settle for a moment. He’s right, you know all too well. Still, the thought leaves a wad of uncomfortable and complicated feelings lodged in your throat.

After a moment’s pause, you break the silence.

“I have too many years of trauma and not enough therapy money to unpack everything I’m feeling right now.”

Taylor cracks first, and giggles come pouring out of the two of you. The joke wasn’t even funny, but you guessed the two of you had been serious for far too long.

Some minutes later, when the giggles finally die down and you return to watching Taylor’s show, you find yourself with your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you decide, you know I’m here for you, right?” Taylor quietly picks up where the conversation had left off.

“Sure,” you agree, “Like I was there for you when you cried over a boy I told you wasn’t shit.” You completely deserve the elbow to the side you receive for that comment.

“Shut up, I’m being cheesy!” Taylor scolds with a laugh.

“I’m lactose intolerant!” You complain, but obligingly fall silent.

“Seriously,” Taylor insists, “I’ll be here every step of the way. Whatever you need.”

You wrap your arms around the one of his that you’re leaning on and give a gentle squeeze to show your appreciation. “Thanks Tay.” you murmur.

“Of course. You got me front row tickets to a SKZ concert, we’re ride or die whether you like it for not!” You poke his side to scold him for not being serious after just insisting that you be, but end up having to fight for your life when he immediately retaliates by trying to tickle you.

It takes the two of you quite a while to calm down again, Taylor smug in his victory. He holds your ankles in his lap like trophies of war as you stare at the ceiling. The quiet creeps back in quickly, so you speak.

“I’m just not sure what I want, I think.” You tell him, “I don’t want to meet them. But at the same time, I really do, y’know?”

Taylor nods, “Just let the universe do its thing.” he suggests, “If you’re meant to meet them now, you’ll meet them regardless of what you want. But after you meet them, it’s all up to you.”

You nod along, humming your acceptance of his advice. He’s right, again. You can’t really fight fate, even if you desperately want to. But even within that large restraint, you’re a human being with free will. The world is your oyster and all that.

You let your thoughts fade out and just listen to Taylor yap about the drama on the TV as he finally tunes back into it.

It’s nearly dawn when the two of you decide to turn in, post-concert jitters having deserted you and heavy conversations having taken their toll.

“Did you manage to get their name before you bolted?” Taylor asks out of nowhere as you’re walking to your respective rooms. “Your soulmate’s” He clarifies at your confused look.

“Oh, I didn’t need to.” You answer absentmindedly, already opening your door and dreaming of your cozy sheets. “It was Bangchan.”

You close your door on his gawping face, blissfully unaware of the crisis you’d just sent him into.

Perma Tag List: @Mbioooo0000

[1oddboi1]

I made a character :D

It's a sona for the Divine Mortals AU. I'm not a bishop or anything, I'm just here. I'm a funky little duder ·:3

This was one of my first ventures into the realm of character design, I'm pretty happy with it

I'll just explain it under a cut, Imma yap for a bit

The animal I picked was the blue RED sea dragon, or glaucus atlanticus as I first heard of it

Cool guy ^

These puppies are pretty cool if I do say so myself. They're a type of sea slug (already a good start) and can EAT the nematocysts (stinging cells) from stuff like jellyfish and use it as their own through their cool little finger things... I can eat poisonous and/or venomous stuff to GROW STRONGER!!

The eyes were the one thing I knew I wanted from the get go. If you couldn't tell from my pfp, I like biblically accurate angels, they're cool. Also I made a joke that I had a bunch of eyes and decided it was canon lmao. I tried not to go overboard with it, there's only the eight you can see here, and decided not to put eyes all over the body. There's only eyes in places that would benefit an animal, front, back, and the tail to make up for the blind spots

The spiky things on the head are cerata! The little wiggly finger things in the pic. I can use them to show emotions, up for happy, down for unhappy, wiggly for various things

Oh! And the red mask shape is a reference to my discord pfp AND my old "brand". I mean, I still use it so maybe it's not old but whatever

I'll just list off some other stuff: Young adult, quite tall despite little guy energy (6'5). ABSOLUTELY a little gremlin, I'm in chaos cult after all. Scatter brained af, can't keep a train of thought. Basically, he is me, I am him, we are one

Uuuuh... Lore wise I don't have much. Only concrete thing is that one day I just said "forget this" and clawed my way out of the ocean evolution style. Maybe I'll draw that

Anyway, that's it. Idk how often I'll post him or how long it'll be before then. I still got a bunch of Brear stuff to draw... And write... I'm gonna finish that story if it's the last thing I do!!

[ozmatippetarius]

I found my way to the kitchen. It was like a kitchen in an old person’s house, with shabby red linoleum and—in keeping with this odd apartment—a door that led onto the roof. I filled a glass from the tap and bolted it, a case of too much, too quickly. [...] I filled my glass again and went to stand by the door: deep breaths, I thought, fresh air, that’s the ticket … Charles burned his finger, cursed, and slammed the oven shut. When he turned around he seemed surprised to find me. “Oh, hi,” he said. “What is it? Can I get you another drink?” “No, thanks.” He peered at my glass. “What’ve you got? Is that gin? Where did you dig that up?”

Richard will go on to spend the next 500 pages insisting that Charles doesn't have an alcohol problem, actually.

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

[ropes3amthoughts]

I know people are just joking when they say stuff like “Mithrun is an old grandpa he doesn’t know he can’t say those words anymore he doesn’t know they don’t have any book tokens anymore” because of these extras below:

and whatever but like it honestly drives me kind of crazy. Like can we look at this for a second.

He was the lord of the dungeon for five years. Then he was being rehabilitated for TWENTY YEARS. That’s not super long for elves, that’s like four years for us, but that’s still a long time. And then he was the captain for another fourteen years, but he didn’t have any desire other than getting revenge on the demon.

Mithrun hasn’t really been properly socialized for a total of FORTY YEARS, which is like eight years for elves. He was totally shut off from the world, then he was rehabilitated, and then he was with the Canaries on a onetrack mindset to go after the demon. Mithrun was doing bad, he was recovering, and then he was better enough to be the captain of the Canaries again, but he was still not “better.” In all that time, the world didn’t wait for him when he was at his low point. It didn’t wait for him when he was spending all that time recovering. And by the time it’s near the end of the story where these comics take place he’s just been so far detached from the world. Like he’s most likely never tried to go buy a book token after becoming a dungeon lord. He’s most likely never talked to people and learned the new slang of the time, he’s never been caught up which words are good versus outdated. Mithrun is technically better enough to be captain, he’s better enough to have reintegrated into society, but he’s not quite adjusted yet. He’s been out for so many years suffering under the hands of the demon and scraping his way through recovery and trying to work to get to the demon that by the time he’s stopped and done stuff like gift exchanges or whatever many aspects of the world are vastly different from what he remembers. I think that’s a lot like a lot of people in real life too who have similar experiences. People in mental health centers or hospitals who spends even just months recovering can miss out on so much.

Does this make any sense? It’s kind of late so I don’t really know what I’m saying and I’m probably repeating myself but like Mithrun was at a low point and then he was recovering for so long!!!! And then when he’s reintegrated back into the world it’s changed without him!!!! He’s not some racist old man!!! The world just kept on turning when he was struggling and how is he even supposed to deal with that? Like he doesn’t have much desire but everybody is so upset with him for not knowing things like outdated terms or using cash because he didn’t know there were no more book tokens and he just can’t have known that because he literally wasn’t in a state to keep up with all of the stuff like that and now everything is different and maybe he doesn’t care because he has no desire to but like aghhhhhhhhhhhh sob sob sniffle oughhhhh 😭😭😭😭 Mithrun 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 imagine I’m shaking him back and forth that’s how I feel right now oughhhhh

[dykecubes]

Tazercraft mental link but make it a lil bit weird, they’ll have a conversation mostly in their heads but partially out loud which from an outside perspective is just fragments of words and half sentences, they go dead silent for hours at a time only for them to suddenly start shouting out loud, very clearly mid-argument, Pac says something but it comes out of Mike’s mouth, Mike starts speaking with his mouth and finishes speaking with Pac’s, sometimes their thoughts become so tangled that they’re unsure who a thought belongs to so they both express it at the same time like horror movie twins, do you see my vision

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 22

Geralt rides into a town only to see a small family fumbling around in the street in a panic. Apparently they're a family business of fishermen who are worried that something much bigger than a fish has swam into a trap of theirs. Geralt gets a promise of money for getting rid of it and goes off to kill whatever water monster it is. But he gets to where they describe the beast and he finds... A mermaid? It's trapped and tied around in a net, facing away from Geralt, and clearly in pain, though he doesn't know why, yet. The webbed ear of the mer flicks and it turns to face him, hissing. Geralt holds his hands out in a placating gesture and sloowly walks closer, only for the mer to slam the full weight of it's tail into Geralt's legs and sweep him off his feet. Gods damn it. It can never be easy. Geralt draws his sword, and begins cutting the trap off the mer, even as it hisses, flails, and tries it's absolute damnedest to claw his face off. He ends up straddling it like it's a fucking gator, and when he frees it of it's restraints, it's only then that he can finally make out the giant wound on the mer's side. Too big and nasty a wound to just release it into the water. Oh great. It's gonna LOVE this. But it's not like he has to DO anything about it. He's a cold, emotionless witcher. He doesn't care of the mer lives or dies. If the wound is infected or kills the mer, he couldn't give less of a damn. So Geralt is currently walking up to his room at the inn, with a very angry hissing mer thrown over his shoulder, clawing the shit out of his armor. When he asks for the bath to be filled, blessedly nobody asks any further questions. The mer stops struggling as soon as it's in the bath, but it sure is still hissing at him. Geralt puts his sword away and takes off his armor and the hissing lessens. Now it's just whenever he gets too close. Big problem. He needs to get close in order to patch up it's wounds. The mer has the biggest, brightest, inhumanly blue eyes, with slitted pupils. It has sharp teeth, and twinkling iridescent blue scales dusting across the edge of it's face and it's cheeks. It stops hissing at him to listen to the bard perform downstairs. It stops attacking him, even as he pokes and prods at their wound. This is great! Except for when the bard stops and the mermaid goes back to thrashing and screaming- So Geralt is forced to hum songs under his breath to calm it. It's pupils expand and it stares at him in awe, with a slightly parted mouth. Geralt's just happy it stopped flopping around like a- w- Well... Like a fish. He fixes it all up, and shares his food, and softly hums to it the whole night, before it curls up a bit more and starts nodding off. He stops humming and steps to the inn's bed, only to be surprised when hearing a voice behind him murmur "Thank you." Oh shit-

[stergeon]

> FERDINAND II.

And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.

The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.

Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.

Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.

Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.

#007 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[raiiny-bay]

:-)

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[ikomahis]

𝔏𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔫

( Mairon / Sauron's HC redemption yearning wannabe ; post-canon )

⭑ felt sad for my ginger villain so i wrote a lil something for my delulu self

⭑ headcanon of Mairon / Sauron’s possible redemption ; only if he wasn’t stubborn/cowardice/bitter enough to seek for it (which it’s up to us fans to believe what we want. i believe he might after many ages pass and his own anger eats itself)

⭑ short 'what if'

⭑ post-canon ; probably set somewhere in post Fourth Age

⭑ i’m also sucker for redemption arcs, especially for those who weren’t truly evil in their core

⸻⸻⸻ ⚶ ⸻⸻⸻

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒈𝒆.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒-𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝐶𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙. 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝐸𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒, ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙, ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 - 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑.

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟.

𝑁𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑅𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝐷𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑖𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡.

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𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙, 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑, 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑦.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦.

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑙𝑜𝑤. 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐻𝑎𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒, 𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛.

𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑒𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝐸𝑟𝑢 𝐼𝑙𝑢́𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝐻𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑡, 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠.

𝐴𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟��𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠.

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𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑚, 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑛. 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙.

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒? 𝐴 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒-𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒.

𝑇𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒?

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𝑀𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑-𝑑𝑢̂𝑟, ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜, ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑑. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡 - 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑠. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑎, 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑚��𝑛𝑦. 𝐴 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐴 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑢𝑙𝑒̈ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑚𝑖𝑡ℎ. 𝑂𝑓 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚.

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑟.

𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠. 𝐼𝑡 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡.

𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛?

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒... ?

⸻⸻⸻

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛.

𝐴𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝑎 𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐻𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑. 𝑁𝑜𝑤, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟-𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒, 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠. 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑠, ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑟𝑑𝑎, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑒𝑡, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘.

𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝐴 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝐴 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒, ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔.

𝐴 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡.

𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆.

⸻⸻⸻ ⚶ ⸻⸻⸻

[peepingwizard]

this man was a mad scientist in the woods in the 1970's, ofc he smoked like a chimney.

full sketch page beneath cut