#poor alaska can't take this lol

[tennessoui]

i would for one would be interested in the extreme angst of Alaska AU

cw: sort of visceral grieving (of parent over lost child); very angsty

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ok so i can't find the actual snippets in my (unorganized and frightening) google docs or notes app (lol) but it was mostly like this (sort of from memory and written directly into this ask so idk how good this will read but i very much remember some parts of this snippet tbh i think this is like. the closest ive ever come to not writing fanfiction ):

Obi-Wan doesn't think he was insane before his daughter died.

He remembers having a sound mind and a stable countenance. He was a writer, a blogger, a poor chef--though a chef nonetheless.

(A chef of boxed macaroni and cheese and cinnamon sugar toast. A chef of dinosaur nuggets and microscopic sized vegetables snuck into casseroles. A chef with a singular purpose, a singular audience.)

He would never have called himself a man of science, but he was a man of rationality at the very least. He found reason in everything around him. He did not always understand science nor math, but respected them as fundamental laws of the universe.

When Rey died, it was the rational part of himself that first followed her into the grave.

Three months after they bought her coffin and two and three-fourths after they buried her, the weather turned unseasonably cold. Obi-Wan woke up in the middle of the night halfway to a panic attack. They had buried her in a summer dress.

Years later, when the pain of the loss was incrementally easier to bear, he would write:

You do not spend nine years of your life fretting over whether or not your child will be cold just to turn that instinct off the moment they are no longer susceptible to the elements. After my daughter died, I spent countless nights awake wondering if she was cold there beneath the ground. We had not thought to bury her in her red winter coat, and it haunted my dreams. She would be cold without it. Children have horrible control of their body temperature. You must bundle them up, and the idea that we hadn't when we buried her drove me to insanity.

The first time it rained after her funeral, I saw her yellow rain boots lined up by our front door as I was leaving. I sat on our front porch stoop and sobbed for what must have been hours, thinking only of the water that would eventually, inevitably seep through the wood cracks of the coffin and wet her toes. Before, when a sudden rainstorm blew in, as they were wont to do in our town, I would pick her up and put her on my shoulders should we be caught out of the house sans rain boots. She hated the feeling of wet socks and cold toes, so I spared her the sensation.

That I had forgotten about the rain when we gave a set of her clothes to the mortician was unforgivable. Sitting on the porch that day, I felt a weight on my shoulders, like she was still perched atop me, trusting me to carry her over all the more dangerous and distasteful parts of the sidewalk.

I hadn't, and so she was cold. Her toes were wet. She was shivering. A child needs to be bundled up. It is one of the first things a parent learns should they take a class on the parenting, and I took many. A child must be bundled up, or they become cold.

I could not shake the idea that she was cold in her casket. Logically, I knew that whatever constituted my daughter was long gone. Her soul, her spirit, her conscience--whichever. She was not what we buried. Rationally, I knew that. But logic and reason have no starring role to play in grief. Guilt and blame and hysteria take the stage.

I could not shake this last failure. I could not forgive myself for it; I could not forgive my wife. When the weather began to turn cold once more, I packed my things and moved to the coldest place I could find. As a parent, one knows this: if you cannot cure your child of their ailment, you will weather it with them however you can.

[spookyserenades]

Ngl, I'm assuming the Seven of Swords was upright instead of reversed. So, that just makes me think that Tae is running from his past in Alaska, probably because of whatever happened with him killing someone. It feels more like self-defence than actually murdering someone. Maybe even being forced to because he was also being used in something like a fight club🤷🏻‍♀️ He's just hiding everything and is on the run from Alaksa because he's scared he'll either do the same thing to someone else and/or he'll lose this dysfunctional family. Idk, I feel like I'm stretching, but these are just my thoughts. The chapter was amazing, wonderful, and fun! I'm so excited for the next chapter! Much love💜💜💜

OMG YESSS wow yes!! Tae DEFINITELY is running from his past - I mean the journey from Alaska to Massachusetts alone is an insane amount of distance to put between him and his problems. The Seven of Swords can represent avoiding the truth, or not taking responsibility for your actions; which Taehyung had been doing by keeping a secret and running away (not that you can blame him LOL) A fight club is SUCH a cool idea oh my goodness...

Poor Tae 😭 I can't imagine how he'll react when MC confronts him- her mother had said "he found his place to hide", but Taehyung definitely found a loving home, something I'm sure he wouldn't be keen on letting go of, especially after his past. But we'll see how that all pans out in the next update!

AHHH thank you so much for reading and enjoying!! This message was very fun and intereresting, much love to you as well 💕💕

[thatsamericano]

During a 120 Degree Day in Arizona

Alaska: Ugh. It's hotter than hell out here.

Arizona: Yeah, but it's a dry heat!

Alaska, glaring: So is an oven.