#now to wait 3 more months. agony. but i will reread again

[capriciousvisage]

dgm panel completely unrelated to ch251

[ateezinmymind]

The Answer

Mingi x reader

Angst, fluff ending

tw: mentions and views of self harm, depressive symptoms, long distance relationship, foul language, hospitalization, overdose, kinda cliche — please don’t read if sensitive <3 stay safe

~hopelessly holding on for life, he was the answer

>My dear Mingi, I’m sorry it’s been so long... some things are going on. I don’t want to scare you, I miss and love you so much. I’m waiting.. waiting for you to come home to me. I’m falling out of control, I don’t know what’s to come, but I will fight hard for you... to see you, hopefully soon<

Folding the letter back into its envelope, Mingi looks out the window. Watching the waves crash against the rocks and spray the air with mist, the gray sky do no part in comfort. Sighing out with exhaustion he stands up from his creaking chair, away from the stack of letters sent in from you. It’s been two months since you’ve last seen each other. Two months and he hasn’t felt you. Two months that you’ve been alone and crumbling.

The struggles you’re going through he reads, affected him as well. Looking back to his littered desk, he walks back to reread one particular letter sent 2 weeks ago.

>Mingi, I’m sorry, I messed up bad. Do you remember when I talked about staying safe? I’m so sorry. Mingi please forgive me. I’ll do better. Please don’t leave me, I’ll fix it. Please just don’t hate me. I miss you, I can’t help myself. What I feel is getting worse and worse. I miss you more everyday, and I can’t help but feel I’m making you drift further away from me...I love you<

Wiping his face of warm tears, Mingi slams his fists into the desk. “Fucking hell y/n, why” buckling to the floor he sobs out in agony. He needed you to hang on for just a little longer, just a little more and he’d get you. Blaming himself for the fact you’re hurting made him feel broken..why did you do this. Why did you think he was going to leave? Never had he thought of running away from this. He loved you then and loves you still..but he can’t do anything to save you.

———

It’s so gray, the sky. The roses Mingi gave you the last day you saw him, are now all dried up and falling apart from the touch. Getting off the bed, making your way into the bathroom turning on the luminescent light bringing a stare to yourself. Putting your arm down, you wince in discomfort. The tears pricking your eyes before now threaten to leave their hiding.

Using one arm you pull off your shirt, up and over your head, bringing your gaze to the littered scars on your skin. “What the fuck have I done…” crying out loud, you look away from the mirror and down to your arm. Droplets of tears falling onto the flesh. You were hopelessly holding on, pretending this would bring him back sooner.

Turning on the shower, you sit on the toilet seat waiting for it to warm up. Was Mingi going to come back to you? Is what he writes in his letters what he really feels? Is this all a joke? Pulling yourself up you get rid of your bottoms and get in the water. Hoping all this would wash away

———

Mingi thought sending letters to each other would be better for you..to be a way to distract you from the negative aspects you might be troubled from. Things always went downhill when he had to go, no matter how hard you both tried it just happened. But by far this is the furthest you’ve gone. The furthest you’ve done to try and bring him back sooner. Mingi was breaking himself over it..

The meer fact you needed him for happiness, made him feel drained. His health became worse and worse as yours did..meals tasted like a flavorless paste, he couldn’t focus on his work. He was sleeping less and less, thinking on and on of what you’ll do next. And how bad it’ll be, praying you weren’t going to do something terribly stupid and regretful.

During your nights, waking up with urges for a distraction either ended with pain coursing through your arms or pain through words to send away. Writing the letters, the letters full of darkness that was overwhelming at times did nothing but worsen your feelings. Maybe it was rereading your sick words, making you feel more helpless and weak. Why would Mingi even want to stay with you, why would anyone love someone who was losing themselves? You couldn’t help but ponder the hope for help..was this capable of healing?

———

~4 months~

>My love, y/n..I’m writing this letter to you with my heart. I understand you haven’t written me back in awhile, I’m praying you’re feeling well. Things have been rocky over here, but I see the end. Y/n, the end of this is coming, happiness is coming. There’s been talk around, and it’s a possibility that I’ll be able to move back. Isn’t that wonderful?! I miss you very much. My favorite flower, you are the love of my life. Sending these with this letter to give you a reminder for the times you aren’t able to realize your worth. Please take care..I’ll see you soon<

Mingi had sent that 3 weeks ago and things were numb..you couldn’t find the strength to write him back. Pulling the jewelry out of the envelope, the rose charm dangling with its ruby glow, you fall into your bed holding it close to your heart. “Why is love so hard?” Closing your eyes, hoping to release this exhaustion just for awhile..head pounding you can’t find a break. Opening your eyes, your body beams straight to your bathroom..controlling itself you reach for the prescribed medication sent in by someone you don’t even remember. You don’t remember who they were, you were forgetting who you were. Nothing felt right, waves kept crashing into you..but there was no help from drowning. And the next thing you knew the tide washes it’s darkness over you.

———

“Y/n I think you are being silly, I love you more..there’s actually no way you can have love more than mine”

“You are the silly one to say such things, you know it too Mingi.. everyone knows it, my love for you is indescribable”

Scoffing out in disagreement, the both of you lean into each other’s embrace. Mingi wrapping his arms around your frame, fills you with warmth and safety. You have him, Mingi, he’s yours. Here. Now. Don’t waste it.

Then just outside the window, the crashing waves rise once again..and you remember, Mingi isn’t with you.. none of this is real. Was his love even real? Did you make it all up for a distraction? It’s too late. The ocean crashes through the window and fills the room with it’s cold water. Knocking you down, screaming, squirming, you kick for air. Clutching your neck, scratching for the feeling of the wind to fill your lungs—

———

“Y/n!!”

Jerking awake, eyes dart around the white ceiling tiles. The smell of sanitation and the sound of beeping fill you with stress. What happened? So many questions race your mind..but are all driven away when a squeeze comes to your hand.

“Y/n??”

Looking forward, it’s Mingi..he’s here. With you. Not sure what happened, not sure if this is even real. Tears streaming down his face erupt your own. “Y/n, I thought I lost you..” choking out Mingi throws himself into you. Shaking your frame with his involuntary sobs, everything is moving so fast. All slows when you wrap around him. Time stops, right here, right now all is okay. You’re okay, you’re going to be okay. Mingi is here. Now you know the truth, anything could happen. But you know it’s going to be okay.

“Y/n you scared me so much..w-when I saw you.. I thought you were gone. I thought you weren’t coming back to m-me” releasing you, he looks at you with his tired, puffy and red eyes.

“You look terrible”

Apart from your croaking voice, you bring a smile upon your wet face. Making Mingi burst out in a crying laugh

“You’re back”

———

Holding each other’s hands, opening the front door to your apartment you see everything is cleaned. Different from what you thought before, when Mingi turned on the light, it wasn’t as aggressive as you remembered. Entering the room, the smell of line-dried linens with hints of fresh fruit and spring fill your nose. It’s comforting, this is the comfort of your home..why didn’t you realize it before?

You’ve been so hidden away in your own mind, that the blessings around you weren’t meeting you. How come Mingi brought this all back? How come you only realized this when he’s here?

“I brought you fresh roses y/n, but this time there here because I’m staying. I won’t be leaving again” wrapping his arms around your body, you melt into his chest. “I promise”

Standing there in each other’s embrace you break the silence, “Mingi, do you think I’m a freak?” Breaking away, you look into his eyes. His expression confused and shocked, lifting his hands to cup your face Mingi leans in and places his forehead to yours. “Y/n” seeing the corners of his mouth twitch and his bottom lip wobble, you close your eyes and bring your hands over his. “I would never think of you as something that you’re not even capable of being.” Feeling his lips land on yours, so soft, like a pillow, comforting and right. Kissing him back, you two dance with love.

“You aren’t a freak” letting go of your face and reaching down to your arms. Pulling your sleeves up, feeling the rigid bumps over your skin. He soothingly rubs his thumbs over the marks and kisses you again. “You’re so strong, and you just were in need of direction” folding your sleeves back down he continues, “you were just a bit lost, but it’s okay...because you found the answer y/n...and there’s no need for your pain any longer”

Pulling you towards your bedroom, he picks you up and lays you on the bed. “I’m with you forever...my love, there will be no more worry”

———

He needed to remind you every time available, that you were his life. If you were gone, so was he. Mingi didn’t ever want to think about you laying there lifeless on the bathroom tiles again, his heart stopped..

He was your answer, but you were his life. You were the oxygen he breathed.

You two were meant to be each other’s source of completion.. and together you two knew things would be okay..

[flowercrown-bard]

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1 /  part 2 /  part 3  /  part 4  / part 5  / part 6  / part 7/  part 8   /  part 9 /  part 10 /  part 11  /  part 12  / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 /  part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 belongs to this

content warnings: injury, thinking one is about to die (Geralt gets badly injured, but he doesn’t die), a sick child (not explicit and only briefly), injured animal (Roach gets a bit injured but nothing explicit and nothign really bad)

(still not the final chapter)

Geralt stumbled out of the muddy water, the kikimora’s carcass lying forgotten behind him.

It would be of no use to get proof of his hunt now. The gash where one of the beast’s talons had pierced Geralt’s chest was too long, too deep. Geralt would be lucky if he even made it back into town.

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. As if luck would ever be on his side.

His knees buckled, the muddy ground gave way beneath him; suddenly he was rushing towards it, hitting the ground with a painful grunt as all air was pushed out of his lungs.

It burned, tore at him from the inside.

Geralt closed his eyes, listening to his own breath, his own heart that wouldn’t be beating for much longer.

He had always known it would end like this, with him bleeding out somewhere in a forest where no one would find him and with no one to mourn or even notice his death. He had made his peace with that months after becoming a witcher.

A sharp sting in his eyes made him blink rapidly. No. He couldn’t shed any tears over this. He couldn’t cry only because now this fate that was always meant to be his would come true, because now there was no one there who would wait for his return, who would be worried about him if he didn’t show up in town come the morning.

There was nothing to be done, nothing to grieve for.

It had been his own damn fault. He had been too reckless, too uncaring of what would happen to him. He got what he has had coming for months now.

This was no time for regrets.

But still … as he lay there with rattling breath and sharp pain seizing him at the smallest movement, he thought of Jaskier, as he always knew he would in his last moments. He thought of the letters Jaskier had written for him and that Geralt had been too much of a coward to read.

Icy fear closed its claws around him, caging him in. He was alone and cold and afraid and he was going to bleed out without knowing what Jaskier had wanted to tell him.

He wanted to – he needed to read a letter. Just one. He couldn’t go alone. He needed Jaskier’s words with him as he left, just as he had needed them when Jaskier had been the one to leave.

With the strength of desperation, Geralt crawled over to where he had dropped off his bags. His fingers dug into the dirt and his wound shot blazing fire through his chest as the movements tore at its edges.

None of that mattered, when finally, finally, Geralt reached the bag, clawing at the letters, desperate to find the one he needed, the one that would be a fitting farewell for him.

‘Read when you are injured’

His mouth twisted into a mirthless laugh. Jaskier had known he wouldn’t be good enough to survive on his own.

He blinked the dark splotches that crept up on the edges of his vision away, focussing all his strength into reading what would be Jaskier’s last words to him.

‘My dearest, Geralt,

I think by now I know you well enough to guess correctly how you feel right now. But I suppose if you are reading this that means you can understand better than before how I always felt when you were hurt and on the verge of dying; how I feel now, writing this letter knowing that one day you will need to read it because you got hurt again.

I wish more than anything that I were there to help you through this, but I need you to be strong and do that yourself, alright?

Can you do that for me?

Take your potions, take your time to clean your wounds and for the gods’ sake go to a healer. I don’t care if you think you can or should deal with the pain. I care about you and I need you to be alright.

So stop reading and make sure you’re not bleeding out.

And Geralt? I love you. I have never been prouder of anything than knowing and loving you.

With all my heart,

Jaskier’

Geralt’s chest tightened, the emotion welling up inside him almost strong enough to drown out the acid pain from the wound. Jaskier cared about him, needed him to get through his.

Yet Geralt could do nothing but reread the letter again and again until his vision became blurred, from bloodloss or unshed tears he could not say.

‘I care about you. I need you to be alright.’

The words repeated in Geralt’s mind, like a faint echo growing stronger and stronger until it became the rhythm of a battle cry.

Geralt’s body burned, threatened to crumble once more. He clenched his jaw and with inhuman strength, he lifted himself up.

A call for Roach, seconds that stretched into what felt like hours, while the glimmering determination inside him turned into a raging fire rivalling the one in his chest.

‘you can understand better than before how I always felt when you were hurt and on the verge of dying’

Oh, how he understood. How that ache of knowing was branded into his very being. He had lived with suffocating fear for years and had to watch it come true before his eyes.

He couldn’t let Jaskier’s fear for him come true as well. He couldn’t do that to him.

With the last effort before he collapsed, Geralt managed to heave himself onto Roach, trusting her to carry him where he could make sure he could do what Jaskier needed of him.

--

When Geralt came to, the agony in his chest had softened into a dull and throbbing ache. A light breeze brushed over him, making his hairs stand on end.

With a groan he tried to sit up, wincing when renewed pain shot through him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” a small voice piped up to his left.

Geralt turned to the side with a scowl, but froze when he met the wide eyes of a child lying in a bed next to his. His skin was sickly white and the skin around his eyes red.

Geralt stared at the little boy mutely, unable to even begin to form words.

The child didn’t seem to mind.

“You should be really nice to the healer when she comes back,” the boy said and gave him a toothy grin. “She was a bit angry at you because you kept trying to push her away while she bandaged you.”

Geralt’s frown returned. “I don’t remember that.”

“I do!” The boy had no reason to look as excited as he did. “You are so strong, even when you were half-asleep. You should have seen yourself when she tried to take off your necklace to better check the bandage.”

Without thinking, Geralt’s hand shot up to the necklaces resting on his bare and bandaged chest. The cool metal of his medallion was still there, but Geralt only felt himself relax once he felt the barely-there weight of the seashell necklace that had previously burned against his chest but that now was a pleasant reassurance.

The boy cocked his head to the side curiously. “Why is it so important?” His eyes lit up. “Is it magic?”

Geralt’s lips quirked up and he leaned back against the pillows of his own sick bed with closed eyes.

“It’s a good luck charm. Keeps me safe when I fight monsters.”

The child seemed to be brimming in excitement and Geralt could hear the sound of his fidgeting.

“Where can I get one of those?” the boy said in a tone as if he had been bursting to ask the question.

Geralt opened his eyes again, only a smidge, and let his eyes once more wander across the pale skin of the child and the way his hair stuck to his forehead as if glued there by fever-sweat.

Geralt hesitated. His hand tightened its grip on the necklace. The precious gift Jaskier had given him. Something to keep him safe.

With a harsh movement, so that he didn’t have time to change his mind, Geralt pulled the necklace over his head and tossed it over to the boy who scrambled to the edge of his bed to catch it.

Geralt’s breath hitched when he saw his necklace in another’s hands, but he forced himself to soften his expression.

“Thank you!” The boy sounded as if Geralt had saved his life. It twisted his gut, but the smile he sent back was sincere. “But what about you? Don’t you need the luck when you fight monsters?”

“I don’t need luck.” The rest of the tightness clinging to him loosened its grip, falling away piece by piece, with every one of Jaskier’s words telling him that he needed him to be alright, feared for him, loved him came back to him. “I have something better.”

--

His hands were balled into fists so tight that his nails would draw blood any minute.

Everything inside Geralt screamed at him to go, turn back and leave. Standing in front of the tavern door, steeling himself to go in was more terrifying than the monster he had faced not even an hour ago.

He had done what he came here for. He had his coin and food for Roach. He should leave, as he would have done if it wasn’t for the letter in his hand being crumpled by how tightly he gripped it.

‘Read when you hear another bard play one of my songs’

It wasn’t the only letter. The gods knew, there were so many more in Geralt’s bag, he could easily shove this one to the bottom of them and never read it, never subject himself to the white pain that threatened to pry him apart with every note of the lute that he heard even through the closed door.

He forced himself to think of the other letters he had read. Not a single one of them he regretted reading, even if it had stung to follow the instructions Jaskier had left him on how to make flowercrowns as he had watched Jaskier do so many times or how to take care of himself the way Jaskier would have done.

Reading the letters was hard, but so was his life and perhaps those letters were the only thing that would take away some of that crushing emptiness if only he managed to gather enough strength to read them all.

His heart beat painfully against his ribcage and he ground his teeth as he pushed the door open.

Immediately, the noises and smells of the tavern threatened to overwhelm him, but Geralt set his jaw and pushed through.

As much as he wanted to shut out the noise, he couldn’t stop listening to the bard. The music was so achingly familiar.

Geralt had been prepared for it to hurt, for it to be unbearable.

What he felt now was so much worse.

Though the bard was far less skilled than Jaskier had been, he sang his songs with the same bright-eyed hunger for adventure.

And Geralt – Geralt found his heart slowing down, calming at the familiarity and joy in the words and melodies Jaskier had written.

Geralt should hate this, but he couldn’t.

The need to flee still sat deep in his bones, but he forced himself to listen, note all the imperfections and all the thrills of excitement in the bard’s voice.

With hands that should be shaking but were eerily calm, Geralt opened the letter.

Taken aback, he frowned, when he saw how short it was. He didn’t know what he had expected.

Maybe a grand analysis of what Jaskier’s lyrics meant or maybe a fond recounting of what he had felt while he had gone on the adventures that had inspired him to write.

What he found instead was so wonderfully unsophisticated in its bluntness that Geralt couldn’t keep the snort in.

The paper only had a single sentence on it: ‘I am better.’

A grin spread across Geralt’s face. It wasn’t particularly big and some might have confused it for a grimace, but to Geralt it felt so unexpectedly sincere that he was sure his cheeks might begin to hurt from it.

He leaned back and watched as the bard brought the song to a close.

He stayed to listen even after he had moved on from Jaskier’s songs.

--

It took Geralt a while to enter another tavern. His dread still spiked up at the sound of a lute and sometimes he would succumb to it and leave. But more and more often, he stayed to listen to the bards he came across - On some rare occasions he even sought them out, when his own meagre playing wasn’t enough for him anymore.

His resolve to listen to the music didn’t make it any easier, at least at first. He still gripped the edges of the tables he sat at tightly and he tensed up at every first note that reached him, but slowly, he started to come to truly enjoy the music.

More so, when they were Jaskier’s songs. Seeing bards’ eyes light up with a spark put there by Jaskier’s creations and see an audience cheer for the poet that had touched them with his words settled something warm and comfortable within him.

But the best part was, whenever someone recognised Geralt. What would have been terrifying and reason enough to leave a town and never return started to feel like a comfort.

Of course, people would know he was a witcher, it was hard to miss. He couldn’t expect anyone to know him as someone who had been loved by Jaskier.

And yet there were few times that people called him a witcher without adding that he belonged to the bard. Somehow, though years had passed since they had been seen travelling with each other, they still belonged together, and Geralt was witness to the fact that the world knew it, celebrated it even.

He might be a witcher again, be alone again, but Jaskier’s legacy made sure that he would always be known as Jaskier’s.

--

Geralt stared at the notebook in his hands. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed in which he held a quill in a death grip as if it could force the words that wouldn’t come to Geralt onto the page.

That damned blank page that was just waiting for Geralt to mess up.

His jaw clenched. He couldn’t risk it. The notebook was Jaskier’s. His unfinished work.

Anything written in it should be perfect, filled with wit and elegant letters, so unlike anything that Geralt would ever be able to put to paper.

While he had been travelling with Sera, he had told himself he couldn’t fill in the notebook as he had promised himself at Jaskier’s grave he would do.

She wouldn’t have laughed at him, of this Geralt was certain, but she still was a bard, a word-smith, a silver-tongue. And she wasn’t Jaskier. As much as she wouldn’t openly judge him, she couldn’t understand him the way Jaskier had.

So he had closed the book, time and time again, always telling himself he would start writing once he was alone again.

He had been for almost a month now, and still not a single drop of ink had been put on the page.

It was easy to write. So easy. As easy as life.

He couldn’t do it.

He had to.

He had promised, himself and Jaskier. He had promised he would tell him about his hunts, he had promised he would see pretty things, even if most days the Path seemed grey and barren of anything that could elicit a smile from Geralt.

With a forcefully steady hand and a heart that sat in his throat, Geralt wrote down a single sentence.

It was nothing special, no rhetoric masterpiece. Just simple words describing how Roach ate a dandelion today.

The quill hovered over the page, the tip almost touching it, almost writing about how it had made Geralt smile.

He put the quill aside before he could write anything like that. His one sentence was good the way it was; it didn’t need Geralt’s smile. Jaskier would have liked the sentence.

And yet. The longer Geralt stared at the words, the more did the wrongness of them gnaw at Geralt’s gut. He shouldn’t have written them. He should have waited until he saw something truly worthwhile to note down.

Instead he had wasted precious space by writing about a stupid, silly thing that no one but him would think important enough to even look at.

His hands balled into fists and he had to restrain himself from crossing out the words or tearing out the page.

But he couldn’t stop himself from forcefully snapping the book shut and stuffing it into his back. Tomorrow he would find something better to write about. Something that wouldn’t have made Jaskier be ashamed of him.

Tomorrow came and went and all that was left in the notebook by Geralt was the one damned sentence that didn’t need an ugly twin.

--

The colours spread over the sky as if an artist had spilled their paints.

It was stunning, but Geralt barely looked at it, his mind too preoccupied with the letter in his hands.

‘Read when you see a breath-taking sunset’

There was no doubt that now was the perfect moment, but despite the many letters Geralt had read already – Jaskier had seemingly prepared for any situation in which Geralt might need his input – breaking it open never became any easier, though something had changed in Geralt. His heart was no longer racing solely out of fear and desperation, instead anticipation made his breath catch in his throat and his chest tingle.

Slowly but steadily the sun crept closer to the horizon, every moment shortening Geralt’s chance to read the letter.

A thrill shot through him as he finally opened it, his eyes roaming hungrily over the words in much the same way that Jaskier might have looked at the sunset.

The letter was shorter than many others, but Geralt felt no stinging disappointment. The words written before him in hurried and shaky letters looked almost the same way Jaskier’s voice had sounded like whenever he needled Geralt for details about his hunts.

‘My dearest, Geralt,

What are you doing reading this letter? Look at the sky! Knowing you, the sunset will be almost over by now. What does it look like? You’ll have to tell me all about it. Is there a lake where the last rays of sunlight are bleeding into the water like it does here? Or are there mountains swallowing the sun?

I would love to be there with you and hold your hand while we watch it. You are always radiant in the golden light of the sinking sun. Have I ever told you your hair takes on nearly the same colour as your eyes when the sun hits it just right? Well, it does. And it’s a sight I look forward to seeing many more times. And don’t you groan about that, you and I both know I will make you enjoy watching sunsets with me. And I’ve I like watching you…well, it’s not my fault if I like looking at beautiful things. And you, dearest, are the most beautiful of all to me.

I wish I was there to see you now, reading this letter still despite me telling you to look at the sun, you rascal!

I love you,

Jaskier’

Geralt looked back up, the tiniest smile on his lips and a sweet crack in his heart.

“I wish you were here too,” he whispered, but despite the feeling swelling in his chest, his voice didn’t break.

He sat back and watched the sunset, doing his best to notice every single facet of it.

He stayed like this until the light was well and truly gone. Only then, did he took out the notebook whose presence had been burning in Geralt’s mind ever since he had written down the first and only note of something that had made him smile.

As before, Geralt hesitated. He couldn’t mess this up. He didn’t have the right words while Jaskier would have been able to write verses about the sunset.

Something in Geralt’s chest grew warm and fuzzy. He could almost hear the way Jaskier’s voice had been so full of joy and softness as he had described his last sunset to Geralt. He too had looked too beautiful to put in words in the golden light.

The tip of the quill touched the paper and as if a dam had broken, words spilled forth. They were still clumsy and looked more like a list than a poetic description; some words and phrases were borrowed from Jaskier, but it felt right somehow.

A letter back to Jaskier.

The warmth in his chest felt like a hug.

He should set up camp for the night. He had answered Jaskier’s questions and he had found something worth remembering. He should be done for the day.

Still, he didn’t move, as he watched the stars twinkle into existence one after the other. He could rest just a little longer, describe just a little more beauty and allow himself to smile at it.

--

Sleep still didn’t come often and if it did, Geralt tossed and turned, plagued by images he would rather forget, unless exhaustion took him into its sweet embrace and granted him black nothingness.

But no matter whether he slept or not, whether he had nightmares or was blessed with darkness, he made a point of spending the night in a real bed as often as the coin allowed it.

It wasn’t good by any means. No matter how comfortable the matrass and how warm the blanket, there was still an empty space next to him, there was no head resting heavily on his chest and no breath on his neck to tickle him as he drifted off to sleep.

So no, it wasn’t good. But it was better. Only a little bit, but better nonetheless.

If he gave it more time, it might even become good enough to deserve a mention in the notebook.

--

The cut on his chest from the leshy lying dead at his feet stung and Geralt’s breath rattled in his chest, each inhale painful like swallowing shards of glass.

He knew he had been sloppy. He knew he should have been better. Months on the Path had erased all pretence of having an excuse for being unable to fight like before and yet his injuries hadn’t gotten any less.

The one thing that had changed though was that now, he managed to drag himself over to his bag and take out the letter – the first one he had read - no matter how serious his injury.

By now the letter was crumpled, its edges torn and some words covered by the odd blood splatter.

It didn’t matter. Geralt had read it often enough to know its words by heart.

He hissed as his broken fingers traced over the words until his heart settled into a steadier rhythm and Geralt found the strength to push himself up and try to find a healer.

The words Jaskier had written for him had saved his life over and over, not always solely from physical injury.  

--

It was hard. Not a day went by without him missing Jaskier.

It was hard and lonely and it didn’t seem to end. But such was a witcher’s life. And yet, Geralt had what no witcher was meant to have: a beloved who made sure to save him even now, to tell him to stay safe and that it mattered that he was alive and well. A lighthouse looking out for him, even if it was too far away to see.

Sometimes Geralt wondered if it was harder this way, if perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed how cold his bed was or how quiet the road if he had never met Jaskier.

Maybe. Probably.

But there were other things he started to notice too. Things he would never have noticed if it weren’t for Jaskier.

It became a habit to linger when Geralt saw a patch of wildflowers and think about how well they would look in their little garden, to rise early not to be off on the road as soon as possible, but to catch sight of the colours the dawn painted across the sky, to look at the clouds more often, not solely to judge the weather, but to trace fantastical shapes in the clouds with his eyes.

The once empty half of the notebook was quickly filled with all sorts of pretty things Jaskier would have liked to hear about. Not a day went past without Geralt finding at least one thing to note down.

Some days his notes were pitiful and Geralt almost snapped the book shut in frustration.

‘I woke up before the nightmares got too bad’, ‘It stopped raining’, ‘I bought some bread’.

Stuff barely worth being called good things and so mundane he considered not writing them down at all.

He still did.

Other days, it was hard to choose what to write down for the opposite reason: because there had been more than one good thing happening to him. Eventually Geralt gave up on choosing just one thing good enough to tell Jaskier about and noted every little thing that made him smile.

What started out as a chore became a habit he didn’t mind.

Eventually, the last page of the book was filled with no space left to write down even one more thing, no matter how much he squeezed the letters together.

A sinking feeling lodged itself in Geralt’s chest as he stared at the notebook in his hand that had forced him to see little specks of colour on the dull and grey road.

He had fulfilled the promise he made to himself. There was no need to force himself to notice wildflowers or stick around to watch his contractors’ faces morph into gratefulness when he told them he had gotten rid of monsters.

He had done what he had set out to do, now he could go back to the bleak Path he had walked for decades before meeting Jaskier. He could go back to the life of blood and pain. There was no need for stupidly romantic notions like a whispering wind or a life of adventure.

With a heavy sigh Geralt closed the book and put it in his bag for the last time, ready to face the Path as it had always been meant to be seen.

And yet, the sun had not even begun to set, when Geralt found himself listening to a choir of birds, a tiny smile on his face.

The little warmth Geralt felt as he rode on didn’t fade, though the song of the forest in his ears was nowhere close to the joyful way Jaskier would have experienced it. No one could see the world how he had done. Still, Jaskier had done everything in his power to teach him and whether Geralt wanted to or not, he had learned.

--

Out of all the letters, one stood out. While every other letter was addressed to Geralt, this one had a different recipient.

Whenever Geralt looked through the envelopes and stumbled across this one, he would smirk and put it back at the very bottom of the stack of unread letters.

Withholding the letter from Roach felt almost like the playful back and forth whenever Geralt told Jaskier not to coddle her, as if he hadn’t loved every moment of watching Jaskier try to befriend his horses. Not reading the letter addressed to her was the closest he could get to grumbling when Jaskier had tried to sneak his old horses some treats behind Geralt’s back.

Now though, with Roach lying on her side and neighing in distress, Geralt thought of the letter, of how Jaskier would have surly moved the world to comfort the injured horse.

The gash on her flank from where a drowner had caught her wasn’t deep, but it must have been the first time the young horse had gotten injured badly enough to bleed.

Geralt didn’t work as quietly as he normally would as he looked after the injury, mumbling soothing reassurances and stroking her sweat-soaked neck.

She would be fine. All she needed was some rest and reassurance that she wasn’t alone, that Geralt was here to take care of her.

Despite the gruffness of his voice, it seemed to help Roach calm down. Her ears twitched in irritation when his voice eventually died down, running out of words and ways to comfort.

Without really meaning to, his eyes drifted to his bag.

The next words that left his mouth to calm his companion weren’t his own. They were written by a bard so full of love for the world that he needed to even describe it to a horse he would never get to know.

While reading out loud Geralt’s voice broke off more than once, but not caused by sobs or a tight throat any longer. Instead he chuckled as he read how Jaskier formally introduced himself to Roach and told her that he would have loved to meet her.

Geralt snorted and put the letter down briefly to pat Roach once more.

“You hear that, Roach? He really thought there was something he needed to tell you about himself, as if I wouldn’t have told you all about him by now,” he said with a grin. “What do you say, should I even keep reading or is it unnecessary?”

Roach only huffed, but despite his words, Geralt continued to read.

It was a silly letter, filled with nonsense that normally wouldn’t come out of Geralt’s mouth even if someone held a sword at his throat. His eyes narrowed as the creeping suspicion entered his mind that while writing Jaskier had cackled thinking about Geralt reading those sickeningly sweet words to Roach. That wonderful bastard.

The grin didn’t leave Geralt’s lips while he read the letter over and over until Roach seemed calm enough to not need his voice any longer.

As he finally put the letter aside side - on top on the stack of read letters for the first time - something made Geralt halt.

A thought, only half-formed but loud enough that it wanted to be heard nonetheless.

He hadn’t needed the letter. Sure, it had helped with Roach and Jaskier’s words never failed to make him smile, but it was more because they were Jaskier’s. The actual meaning of his letters had started to become less and less important. No, not less important, just…redundant.

Geralt had stopped to enjoy the cold water of a river before even remembering that Jaskier had written a letter to remind him to take time off to treat himself to a nice bath. He had stayed in towns and accepted thanks and smiles without even thinking about how surely there was a letter in the stack somewhere telling him to let others be nice to him.

Something came loose in Geralt’s chest and he caressed the worn paper of the letters he had reread time and time again. They were treasured and would continue to be so, because they were from Jaskier, because they were proof that Jaskier wanted to see him happy.

But maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need them to tell him how to get out of the emptiness that had haunted him, for much longer.

[1358456]

Review Response, Dec 22 - 28, 2019

“28″, but I’ll be including the reviews that came in this morning. Because hey.

And... there are a lot. The most this year.

Legacy Prologue - Kalos

1) That first part DEFINITELY reminded me of the XY chapter, except Y is being the Hikikomori (shut-in) and X is trying to drag her out... It’s a good role-reversal!

I also wanted it to be like the time in XY where Y found out what happened to her mother and she got super depressed. Except this time, X tries to do something about it. Finally.

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Legacy #008

1) LOVED IT!

Thank you!

2) Poor moon. I loved this chapter

Hey, it’s you! <3 Thank you kindly.

3) WoW cool chapter. So blue confessionele next chapter hopefully? Lol have been waiting on that for the entire story so Lets hope its the case

Haven’t we all. ... Except for those that don’t like this pairing...

4) It’s nice to see platinum trying to help blue move things was a good chapter with nice interactions with the juniors and seniors all under the same roof

It’s like a big Dex Holder family! ... But not too big, since there are far too many of them nowadays! And despite Platinum not really wanting to get involved, she helps out anyways, as “foretold” by the Headcanon Chronology!

5) While Moon really should rest, the idea of her getting that Spirit of Vengeance team you posted about on your Tumblr sounds way too awesome. ...Also Umbreon bias since it's my first (and only) shiny, but yeah.

Poor Blue - it really is probably only going to hurt her the longer she keeps it in. Wonder how that is going to play out, since I guess Platinum's now put things in motion. I think the first scene in this chapter is the one I enjoyed the most.

Damn, for Moon's Pokemon to die like that...that's gotta be traumatizing. I have to admire that determination though, even though she's shaping up to be a revenge-obsessed character from what I see.

Awesome chapter as always and can't wait for the next one!

Hehe. Spirit of Vengeance. The amount of curse in that team would be quite terrifying. Hehehe... ... Only shiny, you say? Aww...

Platinum has gotten the ball rolling despite not really wanting to. MVP of the confession? Hehe... Sisterly bonds, indeed. Now, will it work out in favor for Blue??

Moon can’t be filled with a lust for vengeance if none of her friends and Pokemon have perished. And so now she rises from her agony with ice cold determination for blood to be spilled for the blood that had been shed. ... Or does that saying go the other way around? Heh. Regardless. She’s pissed, has a bow, lethal poison, and soon to be a team packed with ghosts (and Dark types).

Thank you as always! And you won’t have to wait long~!

6) Eh lucky really isnt my cup of tea but the way you write stories is pretty awesome keep up the good work!

I could tell by the anon ID you picked. To each their own. And thank you!

7) Awww blue being so shy hahahaha. Its like the roles have reversed since the first time they met thats so cute! Anyway Great story as usual

Hehe. Timid Blue~! It’s new and very cute, isn’t it? And thank you.

8) Hey man Great story looking forward to the next chapter

Thank you. It’s coming very soon.

9) Wow this is A really underrated story I really like how you keep most characters so in character!

Still underrated... in comparison to my previous stuff. But that’s to be expected, I guess. And thank you.

10) Well Colour me surprised ! A Pokemon story thats not forcing crack pairings! Anyway Where is green in this story?

Heh. Crack pairings... Only once in a solar eclipse. And... who? Heh. He’s in Kalos and thus off screen.

11) Wtf did moons Pokemon just die? Great story but damn thats fucking dark

Yes they perished in the fire. “Die, insect” and all. ... And one of them was an insect! Heh. Ahem. ... Dark? That’s not dark. Have you seen the stuff I did in SA and Destiny? Heh...

12) I mean I kinda like the story but isnt specialshipping canon? Also this is really really dark

No, it’s not canon. What is canon is that Yellow has a crush on Red. What’s also canon is that Red is uncomfortable with the idea. And of course he is. He thought she was a guy the whole time and then suddenly found out all at once that she was a girl and had a crush on him. His response is not going to be positive. And again, this is not dark. ... Though I guess that depends on your sensitivity.

13) hey sorry for not leaving A review for so long but I still really like the story lol!

Hey, you’re back. ... Then... who’s the anon with the v2 of your ID?

14) I love your writing style!

Thank you!

15) I somehow found Pearl smacking Black across the face to wake him up funnier than it should’ve been. Haha

I wonder if Blue really will confess to Red today. If so, I wonder how the opportunity would present itself.

Its quite sad that Hau, Lillie, and two of Moon’s Pokemon died. I guess this is where Moon’s overhaul comes in. I cant wait to see Moon’s viciousness unleashed when she inevitably meets the guys responsible for all that.

I look forward to more!

Hehe. Black always getting smacked around in my stories, literally and figuratively.

Will Blue truly confess on that day (which is a day before the stuff in Alola happens), or will she fail again due to anxiety? And will it end well for her??

Moon’s overhaul is happening now, yes. For that, she’ll have to go to Galar too. And I don’t know sh*t about that region, so... that’ll be difficult. Hehe. And much later in the story when she meets her foe... oho, Rage Unleashed Moon!

16) Moon and Lillie sure get burned really bad. Also, what about the kid with the malasadas? Hopefully, Blue will confessed to Red soon...

The local boy with the malasada had the same fate as Lillie. Two stretchers with a body on top, with the white blankets pulled all the way up.

17) I figured that now would be the best time to give a review for one of your works. therefore, I should review my personal favourite.

I been a consistent and long-time reader for numerous years now without ever leaving a review. I simply didn't have an account until recently just so I can give my thoughts on some of the series that you make.

Regarding Legacy as a whole, it truely showcases your ability to take the wide variety of dexholders and thiee different personalities and place them in situations that would absolutely never occur in the actual story. I have always loved the way you portray each individual character, improving thier teama and strategies and having genuine character growth. Although Sun and Moon are my uncontested favourite characters so far, I adore the way you use Platinum B in your stories, giving her a genuine personality and character traits.

You also generate a wide range of different and creative settings for each of the characters to go through. Legacy is the perfect example of this in terms of one truely coherent story setting. by using the opportunity of the highest stakes that these dexholders may ever face, you use the opportunity to explore all of the aspects of each character amazingly and how they would face this danger.

Since Sun and Moon are my favourite characters, the wait for this chapter absolutely killed me. Although it sucks that due to the lack of reviews for these characters I will get few opportunties to read your way of presenting the characters What I am trying to say is that the way you write your characters makes them feel REAL. I genuinely believe that these are the actual characters as they personalties are replicated and refined to perfection The way both Sun and Moon react in this chapter is exactly the way I would have expected them to. Being a Deliveryshipping day 1, seeing even the slightest interactions in any media, especially in your stories always brings joy to me. I have regulary reread most of your works such as Special Chronicals and Distinct Events becuase each story is chapter is amazing in its own right.

Your amazing work has inspired me to possibly start my own project one day. I am sorry for the stress that you have gone through this year and the issues with the Discord. It will get better this year. Seeing as you use reviews to indicate the popularity of a particular series, I had to write this review so that this series can get the update it deserves so that we can all see how this fantastic story ends. Thank your for all of the amazing work you have done.

Whoa, hello. Haven’t gotten a review this long since a certain someone stopped with Destiny reviews back in July.

Accounts aren’t necessary for the reviews. Guest reviews exist! And if you use the same anon ID, I’d know it’s you. But thank you for going through the effort! It’s much appreciated!

Aww, thank you very much! <3 And while I don’t know about Sun, but Moon is going to be in the spotlight quite a lot, so enjoy it! Since Platinum is my uncontested favorite, she gets plenty of development in my stories, with new character bonds, teams, battling style, etc. And unlike in DPPt, she actually gets to do things against the enemy.

Of the three major stories I’ve written (SA, Destiny, Legacy), Legacy has the lowest stakes. But I think it’s also the most personal, which I guess means it’s much more important for individual Dex Holders. Well, we’ll see as time passes. And yes, these are kind of things that would never happen in the actual arcs, so the Dex Holders get to be stress-tested. How would they react given their personalities, tics, relationships, etc, in a realistic situation?

Oh. ... Ahem. Sorry for making you wait 7 months. Ehehe... And while it’s true that Sun and Moon currently have the lowest “viewership”, that changes as time passes. Like Black and White in SA and X and Y in Destiny. As the “meh” torch is passed down to Sword and Shield, Sun and Moon might rise in popularity, thus increasing the chances of them appearing in my stories.

I don’t really know if this was how Sun would react though. But I also don’t know how he would’ve actually reacted, so this might not be outside the possibility range. I kind of had him act like Black, really, but without being as sweet... or loud. Well, there will be more Sun & Moon interactions for you to enjoy in the upcoming chapters, so... there you go!

You should start your own project! Go for it! And eh, Discord. Sh*t happens. I wouldn’t call that stress. Anyways. Yes, I use the review count as an indicator of how many people have finished the chapter. Of course, there are plenty of people who read the chapter to the end without reviewing, and the number of people who review after reading tends to fluctuate. But if there is a trend, that indicates a trend in viewership as well. And that is what I look at. Hence the charts. And yes. We’d all like to see how the story ends. Me included. Keep up with the reviews and we’ll all see it by 2021.

And thank you so much for the review and the... sweet talking. Hehe <3

18) Just found this story and am enjoying it thoroughly. Big fan of your Blue characterization as well, I used to enjoy shipping Red with Yellow, but recently, I've come to enjoy Blue with Red.

A small nitpick - Did none of the juniors comment on Red and Blue sleeping in the same room/bed while they stayed in Red's house in the last two chapters? I would assume the female juniors already know Blue likes Red and so won't say anything unnecessary, but I guess the guys are a little more tactful than we give them credit for?

Looking forward to me. Cheers.

Red with Blue works very well. And it’s cute! Hehe... ... biased.

Heh. The girls... already know, since the girls who are in the house were Platinum, White, and Y, and they already know of Blue’s crush and all that. So White and Y would just snicker at the fact that Red and Blue are sleeping on the same bed, while Platinum would just smile. As for the boys... Diamond might notice something if he spent more time talking to Red and Blue before and after. But I doubt Pearl or Black would notice anything odd. They’d probably just assume that Red and Blue are sharing the bed because a ton of guests were sleeping in the living room, so there were no other options.

Of course, all that’s assuming that the juniors know that Red and Blue are sleeping on the same bed. I don’t recall having Red and Blue give them a tour of the house, so as far as the juniors know, there might be another bed upstairs. ... Though a house tour is generally the first thing you do, but... heh. Ambiguity. No one knows for sure.

And I look forward to seeing more reviews from you!

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Well well. Would you look at THAT. Way above the average now. So... looks like I’ll have to keep my word and update Legacy again before this year ends in 3 days. Heh. Of course, I did notice a few things but... well... whatever.

18. That’s the most reviews I’ve gotten in a chapter in all of 2019. Or 2018. ... And vast majority of 2017 (Legacy Prologue - Kanto was in January 2017). If this kind of thing happened much more frequently, I would be updating Legacy like once every two weeks, instead of 3~4 times in a year.

But, there you have it! New record in almost 3 years. As a result... Legacy update in 3 days.

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DE #031

1) Sun and moon are so cute. I love them

Support the new...ish pairing!

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And with that, DE #031 is no longer in the top 4 least reviewed. Yay!

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SC #017

1) Awesome story.

Thank you.

2) Well that was...brutal alright. Thugs deserved it though. I'm mildly surprised no one died, but I think that's more because I'm used to seeing that from your old "doom hammer" chapters.

I admit the Santa part was an amusing touch, and I guess that explains why you needed to release this by the end of the year. Heh, Blue's gadgets are useful as always and very effective - that's a nice disguise. That action scene was awesome and easily the best scene in this chapter. The situation aside...it was nice to see Red be a hero even without his Pokemon.

You were right - this is an enjoyable chapter and I like this "brutal Red" experiment. Can't wait for the next chapter!

Heh. The doom hammer is for serious stories. Not comical ones. So no one dies in the hands of Santa Claus. This time.

Ahem. Well, there’s the inspiration for the chapter, and the reason behind the line of “Or Santa will go jolly on your naughty asses with a candy cane axe”. Hehe. Cheers, everyone, Santa has come to town!

And the duo of Red and Blue becomes much stronger. Mercenary Red with technological support!

Hehe. Much more serious brutal Red (instead of comical) to come up later as the experimentation continues. Ohoho!

3) holy crud, santa beating up a gang is greatest thing ever

Yep. Santa going to town on their naughty asses with a candy cane bat. What’s not to love?

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And with that, the latest SC chapter is now in the top 4 least reviewed. For now?

... Looks like the “A Day at Work” chapters are failing miserably, since they’re at 1 and 3 reviews respectively. So... I guess I won’t be doing that again.

And with this, the longest review response post of 2019 has come to an end.

[neuxue]

Oathbringer thoughts

I was hoping to be able to liveblog Oathbringer, but it turns out I was too optimistic by half. Well, by about 5/28 anyway, given that I have two and a half WoT books left. I thought about just waiting to read Oathbringer (if there’s anything liveblogging WoT has taught me it’s patience) but I’m going to the Sanderson signing tomorrow so I was running out of time. Anyway, here are some thoughts upon finishing, for the 2 or 3 of you who are interested. I was reading probably a little too fast, so probably missed everything and will at some point need to reread, but here you go.

LOTS OF SPOILERS BELOW. ALL THE SPOILERS. HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. 

In no particular order (but there are 10: a nicely Vorin number to go with my coincidentally Vorin username)

1. Talenel. Taln. Talenelat’Elin. Stonesinew, Herald of War, Bearer of all Agonies. 

That guy.

Taln was a Problem for me literally from the moment he was introduced in the Prelude (offscreen! He didn’t even show up on-page! Why am I like this?!) with the line “Taln had a tendency to choose seemingly hopeless fights and win them. He also had a tendency to die in the process”. A doomed last stand in the form of a character. Why would you do this to me. 

So I’m sure you can guess that Chapter 38 (‘Broken People’ what a chapter title) thoroughly broke me. I mean, it wasn’t even anything we didn’t already know, really. But... “The nine realised that one of them had never broken.” And “The Bearer of Agonies. The one abandoned in Damnation. Left to withstand the tortures alone.” And the fact that it took four and a half millennia for him to break.

I’ve long had a fascination with the idea of ‘everyone has a breaking point’ (when I was 11 I tried to write a novel based entirely on the concept of someone who does not - or cannot - break; the ‘cannot’ turned out to be a rather interesting thing to explore, but the story overall was terrible because, amongst other reasons, I was 11) and with the idea of breaking characters, and what it would take to break certain characters, and what the result would be. 

As I mentioned, I also have a thing for doomed last stands, so basically Talenel was created to be my breaking point, it would seem. (“Herald Talenelat during several of his many, many last stands...” just @ me next time)

And then. And then 

“Four thousand years?” She held his hand tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” [...] “Four thousand years?” Taln asked again. “Ash...” “We couldn’t continue--I...we thought...” “Ash.” He took her hand again. “What a wonderful thing.” Wonderful? “We left you, Taln.” “What a gift you gave them! Time to recover, for once, between Desolations. Time to progress. They never had a chance before. But this time...yes, maybe they do.”

And then...lucidity abandons him, because he is broken, and it’s been four thousand years. But in that one moment, in the moment when he is briefly himself, it’s as if he isn’t broken at all. The fact that this still exists within him, even if the rest of the time he’s found a refuge in madness or forgetting or in the recitation he gives over and over, the advice he needs to give to humanity, the duty he has to them. It’s like name, rank, serial number. It’s very probably the thing he held on to throughout those four and a half thousand years, the thing he could not allow himself to let go of or forget, even as he broke. And the thought that the one point he fixed on, the thing he held fast to even as he broke, was his duty to humankind, is...a lot.

2. Speaking of Taln, let’s talk a little bit about Kaladin

There are plenty of things I could say about Kaladin, but I mostly just want to throw a few quotes out there For Your Interest. Because...I don’t know if there’s anything to this but here.

Quotes about Taln:

“The one who wasn’t meant to have joined them in the first place, the one who was not a king, scholar, or general” 

Um.

“One of them had never broken.”

Quotes about or by Kaladin Stormblessed (surgeon’s son, neither king nor scholar nor general):

“That granite will, that warrior’s poise.” 

(As an aside, how do granite and obsidian exist on a planet with no tectonics? How???)

“Ten spears go to battle” [Kaladin] whispered, “and nine shatter. Did that war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”

One unbroken, of ten. 

Eight months. Eight months as a slave, eight months of slop and beatings. It might as well have been an eternity. --from Way of Kings

An eternity of torture? Also Taln’s Scar is high in the sky during Kaladin’s time as a slave. Maybe meaningless. 

Why were they going through all of this? What was the point? Why were they running so much? They had to protect their bridge, the precious weight, the cargo. They had to hold up the sky and run, they had to... --Kaladin’s thoughts, WoK

Take that just a little out of immediate context and that last part especially sure sounds like someone tasked with endless agony for the sake of the world

Yet the sheer glory of what he did seemed at odds with the desolation he caused --Kaladin’s thoughts, WoK

Somewhat less relevant to the thing I’m sort of vaguely postulating but still an interesting choice of words, and the Desolations happen when the Heralds break and return, so.

“His body dead, but not his will” --Hoid, WoR, telling the ‘Fleet’ story

Taln dies a lot. It’s sort of his thing. But his will takes four millennia to break.

“Then I hope I end up in Damnation.” --Kaladin, WoR

I’m just saying.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s leftover from one of the things I got hilariously wrong when first reading WoK - obviously Kaladin was gaining the powers of a Radiant but I really, really wanted him to somehow be Taln. (Amusingly, I read Way of Kings before I started Wheel of Time, otherwise it would be easy to see where this notion came from). Maybe it’s Maybelline. Regardless, it’s an interesting set of possible parallels.

3. Wow, he just up and told us what caused the Recreance in book three. 

And it felt like the perfect time for it. It’s the sort of thing you’d normally expect an author to sit on for more or less the entire series. I was tentatively prepared to wait for at least the first five books before getting this much stated outright on-page. 

I’m so glad Sanderson gave it to us now, instead. For one thing, it felt oddly refreshing to have such a big question answered so early. Playing the long game with reveals can work, obviously, but it’s fun to mix things up a bit. It also plays into some of what I ended up talking about in the ‘Dalinar’ section of this list regarding plot twists and the execution thereof. The Recreance is a good example, because it was revealed in full at the point in the story when it could have the impact it needed to have. In-story, it was both the probable and logical time for the secret to come out - it would have started to strain suspension of disbelief if that many characters had some knowledge of it, and none of them ever put it together on-page either in their own thoughts or for the other characters. For the reader, it brings everything together at a point when it’s all very relevant, and at a point when there’s enough information to figure it out if you’re careful and lucky, but not so much that it loses all surprise value whatsoever (For the record, I was close about a lot of it, but there were some pieces I missed and/or put in the wrong place. It did, however, satisfy the one thing I was really hoping it would). 

Narratively and thematically, it makes sense alongside the other questions that are being asked or otherwise addressed - the issue of colonisation and ownership and agency, the question of war and protection and the justifications for either or both, the contrast of unity and division, and of course the question of oaths and honour and betrayal.  

Answering this question now also makes the whole story suddenly feel so much bigger, because when something set up to be this much of a central question is almost just handed to you, it serves to put it into perspective. It makes the rest of the story, and next set of questions we’re starting to ask, and the questions we don’t even yet know to ask, seem so much larger, and the story so much vaster. 

4. OH THANK THE LISTENING GODS THE LOVE TRIANGLE SPUTTERED AND DIED BEFORE IT COULD EAT EVERYTHING 

I breathed an actual literal sigh of relief. I hate love triangles so much, mostly because I usually struggle to maintain ‘bored indifference’ rather than outright irritation at romance subplots in general, so love triangles are almost always intolerable because not only do they double the romance but they turn it into a point of conflict and miscommunication and angst and I cannot fucking stand it. If I had a dragon for every unnecessary love triangle I’ve had to read, I’d have been able to take over the world a long time ago. Or have the world’s most epic bonfire. 

Anyway. Through WoR (and I guess WoK but to a lesser extent) I was torn between trusting Sanderson to avoid or subvert that particular cliche and...not trusting him to do that. There are a lot of things I do trust him with as a storyteller (especially one who has clearly evolved in his writing, storytelling, and awareness) but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him on this. He earned quite a bit of trust from me for how he ended up writing this, actually.

The exact moment I breathed that sigh of relief? It was the conversation Shallan and Kaladin had about her particular coping mechanism. Specifically: 

“No. No, Shallan! I wish I could do the same. [...] How nice would it be, if I could simply shove it all away? Storms.” [...] “This way, I’ll never face it,” Shallan said. “It’s better than being unable to function.” “That’s what I tell myself.”

Because this was the moment when it became exceedingly, abundantly, absolutely clear that Sanderson was doing this on purpose. I had hoped he was, because this was something that felt off about Kaladin and Shallan during their chasms conversation in WoR as well (the ‘she smiled anyway’ thing), but then there was the possibility that it was...accidental. Now, though, I have significantly more faith in Sanderson, because this is a really...I can’t think of the word but I’m glad he did this the way he did.

And I am SO INCREDIBLY GLAD THE LOVE TRIANGLE DIED. And the way in which it died. And the fact that everyone involved respected its death. And that it didn’t stop the characters involved from communicating with and trusting one another. And also that said death included the line “Shallan. he can literally fly.”

(Adolin Kholin is not straight. Just tossing that out there).

(Shallan consistently using the word ‘passion’ when thinking about or describing Kaladin is interesting, though, in light of certain other reveals. Not sure if there’s actually anything to that, but it’s just a thing that stood out).

5. Dalinar

So the identity of Odium’s Champion was one of the things I saw coming as soon as the champion idea was mentioned in this book. (It was brought up in previous books and this was one of my theories but I definitely wasn’t certain, and I was also Distracted by what I wanted to have happen, which is not something that would ever actually happen. I’ll write the fic at some point). 

Anyway, it was predictable...but that didn’t matter, because it was beautifully executed. “You cannot have my pain” is a cool line out of context, but in context it was magnificent. 

I like the way Sanderson does plot twists, because unlike with some authors, it doesn’t feel as if his sole intent is to be able to say ‘ha ha, tricked you, aren’t I so clever’. His goal, it seems, is to tell a satisfying story. Rather than withholding all of the information relevant to the ‘twist’ to make it actually impossible to guess (which doesn’t make you a master of the plot twist so much as it makes you an asshole), he includes the necessary and sufficient foreshadowing to allow the ‘twist’ to make sense and not feel like it came out of nowhere. 

This means, of course, that some readers are going to guess it in advance. That’s just how it works. If you put the information out there, some people are going to put it together correctly and completely. Some people are going to put some of it together, and have a sense of where things are heading. Some people are going to be absolutely sure of where it’s heading...and then be completely wrong. Some people are going to have absolutely no clue. The truly impressive plot twist, I find, is the one that can satisfy people in all of those categories. YMMV of course, but having been in each of these positions at least once while reading Sanderson’s books, I feel like he manages this impressively well. It’s fun if it’s at least a little bit of a surprise, but even when it’s not, it’s satisfying because it’s written as part of the story - as a point of emotional or narrative impact, or a turning point for the characters - well enough that it still has the desired effect. Mostly because ‘gotcha’ isn’t the (only) desired effect.

I digress somewhat.

So before we move on, I’d also like to point out that Dalinar Kholin and Lews Therin Telamon clearly need to form a support group for men who murdered their wives in a fit of madness and fucked with the psyche, memory, and identity of their future selves.

6. “The apocalypse is coming; we don’t have time for bullshit gender roles”

Adolin being absolutely here for Shallan-with-Shardblade. Kaladin going ‘yeah okay’ to women joining the Windrunners. Dalinar learning to read. Jasnah as queen because honestly was there ever actually another choice? 

This is another one that’s just so refreshing to see, especially because it’s clearly something that’s being deliberately examined and played with, but is also integrated into the story. It doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb the author didn’t know what to do with, but it also plays a very real role in the story. It’s not just there so the author can point to the one sword-wielding woman in a cast of thousands of dudes and say ‘but I gave you a Strong Female Character’. 

This ties into something I really appreciate about Sanderson, which is his demonstrated ability and willingness to learn and grow when it comes to issues of representation - not just in terms of including it, but in how he includes it. 

7. Venli

I don’t have a lot to say about her except that I was genuinely surprised by this one. So well done on that, Sanderson.

Also, given his propensity for writing brothers in love with the same woman, I’m almost surprised we didn’t get some sort of reveal about Venli and Eshonai loving the same person.

8. Cosmere convergence

There was a lot more than I expected at this point in the...series? Continuity? Mass of interconnected stories that have evolved into a semi-eldritch being? I enjoyed it and had no problems with this, but I’d be curious to know what someone who’s only read Stormlight thought - does it still work? Do they just play as intriguing and mysterious characters alongside all the other intriguing and mysterious characters, or has it reached a tipping point where you actually need to have read some of the other books?

Also Cosmere-related...Hoid. He’s sure getting more and more screen time, isn’t he? I’m Interested. I have Thoughts. I need to think about them more but I definitely have some Thoughts on who and what he is. Regardless, any character who can say “if I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. With tears, yes, but I would let it happen” is going to Interest me. Not to mention the sheer number of times he tells various characters not to trust him. And then there’s “you turned your back on divinity.” Which is...um. Yeah I’m fine this is fine.

9. Odium

Has to be number 9, because of reasons. Odium was great. Nice subversion of imagery there, and to great effect. 

10. Ideals and Oaths

I mostly find it amusing how a book called Oathbringer is the first to plainly exhibit failed Ideals. Elhokar. Kaladin. (My best guess at the Windrunners’ Fourth Ideal would be something along the lines of “I will protect those I can, and forgive myself for those I cannot” but I’ll have to reread and see if that holds up). The broken Oathpact (there’s a part of me that really wants the gem-encrusted probably-a-fabrial-of-some-sort pillar to be the Oathpact; its manifestation or sealing or what-have-you. Not sure that holds up though). It’s a fun little irony.