#the only thing getting me together are the questionable dialogue choices ive made for this fic i hope u will enjpy

[hannie-dul-set]

proof of writing!!! i have been dying but not enough to stop me from self indulging!!!

[celestie0]

(sending you an ask as a reply to your response to my reblog, because my network is being a bitch and idk if it went through the first time, it showed it failed to go through to me, and also because it’s easier this way, to type it out in the comment section or reblog)

ANYWAYS(

think i’ve said it before but i’ll say it again; gojo loves reader so passionately, so devotedly and even unconditionally. he fell so much harder, it’s heartbreaking that she doesn’t know, but it’s even more heartbreaking that he’s suffering alone, i’m genuinely waiting for the day she gets to hold him through the night and reassure him that’s it’s fine, that they will be fine. idk perfect, but i think they will be the nearest thing to perfection. perfectly splendid.

there’s nothing sexier than a man who loves passionately and consensually. idk about the rest, but personally him looking at her with so much desire and still letting go of her hands when she interlocks it because she might regret when the sun comes up is undeniably one of the most passionate moments ever. i cannot really explain how it is tbh, but there’s something so strong over there. it’s angsty, it’s heartbreaking, and there’s so much selfless love. he’s so good AND he does it so well. iykyk. also that was indeed a “slut” reference because isn’t gojo a gentleman? a man who loves you more than himself? id dedicate all my favourite ts songs to him! any day.

my favourite part about you showing her vulnerability is how it all came together since the beginning, like there were always hints and words of it and they fall together so elegantly. the pacing, the eloquence, everything has been so well put together.

her problems are so relatable…like i get that feeling when you question your calibre, your career choice and everything you’ve ever done. the inner conflict about your cv and if it’s even acceptable, unique, extraordinary? the world is so fast paced and theres only so much we can do,. it’s been refreshing to read about a character who does express their vulnerability regarding their career. i personally think we lack that substance nowadays. even in published paperbacks.

im screaming that i could make an impact on you with my words, because your words definitely made a huge impact on me. they’ve not only refreshed me, but also inspired me, i obviously cannot write a story this well, but i can write poems, i’ve done that most of my lives. i struggle with keeping up with the pacing in stories tbh. and dialogues. (and insecurities)

i’m keeping your fic in my favourite reads ever!

🫶💌

hi dear aaa im not sure if the reblog went through for me so im glad you sent the ask!!

ouu your analysis of gojo’s emotional wellbeing has me tearing up 😭 i think it’s sad too how he struggles to open up quite yet and im sure it feels like two steps forward one step back w reader so far, but im hoping that w more scenes reader can show him she’s trustworthy and can be someone there for him ☺️💕 its going to be a joy to build more of their connection. i’m suuuuper excited for gojo’s last pov chapter which i wont spoil which chap it’ll be but im alr so curious how you will receive it dear reader given how deeply youve given his character thought 🫶🏼💕

haha i LOOOVE the wildest dream ref n just all the ts refs in generaaaal i listen to folklore/evermore when i write each chap <3 and thank you it’s so flattering that you could pick up that energy btwn them in the writing i was rly hoping i could capture it 🥺

and yesss i really resonate with that! i think ive read a lot of works that do have aspects of career and romance but for kickoff im really trying to marry the two :) both w gojo grappling w his focus on soccer due to his father’s legacy rather than his focus on the more “important” things in life such as love n happiness (which his father only rly learned after he couldn’t play the sport anymore), but also in reader who holds on very tightly to her dreams & has only had them in mind since the beginning (her “terms & condition” from gojo) but she’s struggling in dealing w her fears of failure. i think that the two of them have valuable insight that they could offer each other and help them trust one another more bc of these two situations theyre in :) and could build to a more healthy and genuine romance

and yesss to all of the career doubts and wondering if you’re good enough 😭 thats something so universal and also something i genuinely wonder if it will ever go away

THANK YOU AGAIN SM FOR YOUR WORDS I HAVE SM FUN TALKING AB KICKOFF W YOU omg its got me out here emotionallll. that’s so lovely you write poems my dear i could TELL honestly haha you have such a breathtaking way w words n deliberation

also i’ll respond to your reblog of the writing tips post here but you are so very welcome im really rooting for you and awaiting your tag <33

so much love 💕

[amuelia]

How do you think Roose will meet his demise? Or will he survive? What's your best Roose end game predictions?

Thank you for the question! This will be a long post under the readmore, going into my thoughts on the show ending and exploring what the books may have set up in regards to themes and characterization, as well as a bit of general analysis of Roose' story arc in a Dance with Dragons (and some speculation about Ramsay as well).

If you click on the readmore i will have divided the post into sections with bolded Headers, if you want to only read my specific endgame ideas you can skip ahead to the "His Endgame?" section.

In The Show

The show had him get killed by Ramsay in s6, which informs a lot of the fandom speculation about this storyline.

I am not a fan of the show's scenario as it was both similar to tywin and tyrion as well as a mirror of robb's death; it would also be offscreen in the books since neither of the characters are PoVs and Ramsay would need to do the act in secret. This would ultimately undercut Roose' role and impact, being a death scene that is not very unique and also isn't shown to the reader directly. Since no PoV is even in Winterfell currently, we would just hear of it from afar and not witness the consequences.

The show also has a different dynamic in the Bolton storyline, emphasizing Ramsay as the "main character" of this arc, and elevating him to the main villain for s5-6 to fill Joffrey's shoes as an evil character played by a very charismatic actor. Ramsay's show writing is informed by the needs of a TV setting that wants shocking moments and capitalizes on "fan favourite" actors; his rising importance in the show thus is not necessarily an indicator of his book importance. The show was also missing many central characters like the northern lords and the Frey men in Winterfell.

The show had a tendency to kill off characters early when they wanted to cull storylines or had no plans to adapt more of the character's story (like Stannis, Barristan, possibly the Tyrells...); In Mance Rayder we have the most obvious example, where they killed him off for real in a scene that in the book was a misdirection. We also have characters like Jorah where it appears the showrunners had their own choice of how they want his storyline to end, even if Grrm has his own ending in mind.

"For a long time we wanted Ser Jorah to be there at The Wall in the end," writer Dave Hill says. "The three coming out of the tunnel would be Jon and Jorah and Tormund. But [...] Jorah should have the noble death he craves defending the woman he loves." - Dave Hill for Entertainment Weekly

So a death in the show does not need to be an indicator that the books will feature an equivalent scene, even if it gives a hint as to what may happen. By s5 the show has become its own beast, and the butterfly effects from radical changes they made as well as the different characterizations results in the show having to cater to its own needs in many cases when it gets to resolving a plotline.

"We reconceived the role to make it worthy of the actor's talents." - Benioff and Weiss for the s5 DVD commentary, on Indira Varma's casting as Ellaria

In The Books

(Since this post was getting out of hand in length a lot of these arguments are a little shortened/not as in-depth as i'd like! Feel free to inquire more via ask if something is unclear or you disagree)

In the books i find it hard to make a concrete guess as to how it will end. Occam's razor would be to assume the show sort of got it right and that it will vaguely end the same, which could very well happen and i will not discount the possibility; Ramsay is cruel, desires the Dreadfort rule, and is a suspected kinslayer and has no qualms to commit immoral violence.

"Ramsay killed [his brother]. A sickness of the bowels, Maester Uthor says, but I say poison." - Reek III, aDwD

Reek saw the way Ramsay's mouth twisted, the spittle glistening between his lips. He feared he might leap the table with his dagger in his hand [to attack his father]. - Reek III, aDwD

Arguments against this or for a different endgame come down to interpretations of the themes in the story arc and opinions on dramatic structure/grrm's writing, and are thus very subjective.

The way the story currently is going, Ramsay killing Roose treats Roose almost as a plot device; his death brings no change or development to Ramsay's character as we already know his motivations and cruelty align with such an act, and we can assume that he would feel no remorse about it either. The results of such a scene would be firmly on a story level, as it brings political changes and moves the plot along into a specific direction. Roose himself cannot have any relevant character development about it as he does not have a PoV and we would not be able to witness his reaction from the outside.

“The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself.” - William Faulkner, often quoted by Grrm

Further, killing his father is very difficult to pull off in secret (Roose is frequently described as very cautious, and employs many guardsmen). And even if Ramsay pulls it off (people often interpret Ramsay as Roose' blind spot, assuming he might be caught by surprise, not expecting Ramsay would bite the hand that feeds him), Roose is the one that holds his entire alliance together; The Freys would be alienated by Ramsay who would antagonize Walda and her son as his rivals, The Ryswell bloc appears to dislike Ramsay (especially Barbrey), and the other northmen are implied to not even like Roose himself. Killing Roose would quickly combust the entire northern faction, and hinder Ramsay's further plans (another reason why I am not convinced of a book version of the "Battle of Bastards"). Though this might of course, if we look at it from the other side, be grrm's plan to quickly dissolve this plot and move the northern story forwards.

"Ramsay will kill [Walda's children], of course. [...] [She] will grieve to see them die, though." - Reek III, aDwD

"How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known? Only Lady Barbrey, whom you would turn into a pair of boots … inferior boots." - Reek III, aDwD

"Fear is what keeps a man alive in this world of treachery and deceit. Even here in Barrowton the crows are circling, waiting to feast upon our flesh. The Cerwyns and the Tallharts are not to be relied on, my fat friend Lord Wyman plots betrayal, and Whoresbane … the Umbers may seem simple, but they are not without a certain low cunning. Ramsay should fear them all, as I do." - Reek III, aDwD

Roose' death at Ramsay's hand also removes him thematically from the Red Wedding, as we can assume such a death might have happened regardless of his participation in the event (seeing as Ramsay is getting provoked by Roose constantly in normal dialogue, and has a general violent disposition). Roose already took Ramsay in before aGoT started, and married Walda very early in the war, which is already most of the buildup that the show's scenario had. It also has little to do with the The North Remembers plot except set dressing, since the northmen are presumably neither collaborating with/egging on Ramsay nor would they appreciate the development.

Themes: Ned Stark and the rule over the North

Roose is treated as a foil to Eddard; They are often contrasted in morals and ruling styles, while also having many superficial similarities that further connect them (they are seen as cold by people, grey eyed, patriarchs of rivalling northern houses, etc...).

Pale as morning mist, his eyes concealed more than they told. Jaime misliked those eyes. They reminded him of the day at King's Landing when Ned Stark had found him seated on the Iron Throne. - Jaime IV, aSoS

They both have a "bastard son" that they handle very differently; Roose treating Ramsay in the way that is seen as common in their society. Ramsay and Jon as a comparison are meant to show that Catelyn had a reason to see a bastard as a threat (since Domeric was antagonized by his bastard brother), but also shows that her suggested plan for Jon would not have stopped any danger either (as Ramsay being raised away from the castle didn't help).

And if his seed quickened, she expected he would see to the child's needs. He did more than that. The Starks were not like other men. Ned brought his bastard home with him, and called him "son" for all the north to see. - Catelyn II, aGoT

"Each year I sent the woman some piglets and chickens and a bag of stars, on the understanding that she was never to tell the boy who had fathered him. A peaceful land, a quiet people, that has always been my rule." - Reek III, aDwD

It appears to me that Roose' story functions in some ways as an inversion to Ned. He makes an attempt to grab a power he was not destined to (becoming warden of the north), where Ned did not want the responsiblity thrust upon him ("It was all meant for Brandon. [...] I never asked for this cup to pass to me." - Cat II, aGoT). Where Ned rules successfully and his northmen honor his legacy ("What do you think passes through their heads when they hear the new bride weeping? Valiant Ned's precious little girl." - The Turncloak, aDwD), the Boltons are largely hated and there are several plots conspiring against them ("Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die." - The King's Prize, aDwD).

It seems possible to me that in terms of their family and legacy, Roose might also live through an inverted version of Ned's story; where Ned died first, leaving his family behind, Roose already lived to see the death of his wives and trueborn heir, and might thus also live to see Ramsay's death. Ned leaves behind well raised children and a North who still respects his name, and even though he dies it will presumably all be "in good hands" in the end (in broad strokes, obviously this is all much more morally complex). Roose however built up a bad and toxic legacy, and also built his way of life around evading consequences; it makes sense to me that he would be forced by the story to finally endure all the consequences of his actions and witness the fall of his house firsthand. After all we already have Tywin who fulfils the purpose of dying before his children while his legacy falls to ruins, and a Feast for Crows explores this aspect thoroughly.

Roose' arc in A Dance With Dragons

The story repeatedly builds up the situation unravelling around Roose, and him slowly losing a grip on it and becoming more stressed and anxious.

Reek wondered if Roose Bolton ever cried. If so, do the tears feel cold upon his cheeks? - Reek II, aDwD

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear. [...] That night the new stable collapsed beneath the weight of the snow that had buried it. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Lady Walda gave a shriek and clutched at her lord husband's arm. "Stop," Roose Bolton shouted. "Stop this madness." His own men rushed forward as the Manderlys vaulted over the benches to get at the Freys. - Theon I, aDwD

It also directly presents him as a parallel to Theon's rule in aCoK, who similarly experienced a very unpopular rule and his subjects slowly turning against him. Presumably, the point of this comparison will not just be "Ramsay comes in at the end and unexpectedly whacks them on the head". Both Theon and Roose invited Ramsay into their lives, giving him more power than he deserves, and causing Ramsay to make choices that increasingly alienate others from them (the death of the miller's boys for example has repercussions for both Theon and Roose). Grrm is likely steering this towards a difference in how they will deal with this situation.

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. Reek was there too, he remembered, but he was a different Reek, a Reek with bloody hands and lies dripping from his lips, sweet as honey. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

"Stark's little wolflings are dead," said Ramsay, sloshing some more ale into his cup, "and they'll stay dead. Let them show their ugly faces, and my girls will rip those wolves of theirs to pieces. The sooner they turn up, the sooner I kill them again." - The elder Bolton sighed. "Again? Surely you misspeak. You never slew Lord Eddard's sons, those two sweet boys we loved so well. That was Theon Turncloak's work, remember? How many of our grudging friends do you imagine we'd retain if the truth were known?" - Reek III, aDwD

Roose' arc is deeply connected to the relations he shares to the other northern lords, which has been heavily impacted by the Red Wedding. It stands to reason that they are going to be an important part of his downfall, and we see many hints of them plotting to betray him.

The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer's farce is almost done. My son is home." - Davos IV, aDwD

Themes: Stannis and kinslaying

The books set up Roose and Stannis as foils as well; Both lack charisma and have trouble winnning the people's support, Stannis and Roose both parallel and contrast Ned, Stannis appears as a "lesser Robert" where Roose is a "lesser Ned", Stannis represents the fire where Roose represents the ice, both struggle over dominion in a land that doesnt particularly want either of them, etc... What i find interesting is how they are contrasted over kinslaying:

"Only Renly could vex me so with a piece of fruit. He brought his doom on himself with his treason, but I did love him, Davos. I know that now. I swear, I will go to my grave thinking of my brother's peach." - Davos II, aCoK

"I should've had the mother whipped and thrown her child down a well … but the babe did have my eyes." [...] "Now [Domeric's] bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay. Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?" - Reek III, aCoK

Stannis is set up as someone who is very thorough and strict in following his own code and his "duty", even if he does not like what it forces him to do.

Stannis ground his teeth again. "I never asked for this crown. Gold is cold and heavy on the head, but so long as I am the king, I have a duty . . . If I must sacrifice one child to the flames to save a million from the dark . . . Sacrifice . . . is never easy, Davos. Or it is no true sacrifice. Tell him, my lady." - Davos IV, aSoS

The armorer considered that a moment. "Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, yes, but brittle, the way iron gets. He'll break before he bends." - Jon I, aCoK

Roose however is frequently characterized as someone who tries to get as much as he can while avoiding negative consequences, and who does not have a consistent moral code and instead bends rules to his benefit to be the most comfortable to him.

It is often theorized that Stannis will end up burning his daughter Shireen; the Ramsay issue might then serve to contrast the two men. If Grrm intends it to be compared by the reader, I can see it going two ways: Either Roose will be forced to finally act in a drastic way after avoiding his responsibility in regards to Ramsay and he will be forced to get rid of his son, making him break the only moral hurdle he has presented adhering to during the story (though analyzing his character, the kinslaying taboo is probably less a sign of moral fortitude and more him using the guise of morals to explain a selfish motivation). Or he might not act against Ramsay and suffer the consequences, presenting an interesting moral situation where some readers might consider his action "better" or more relatable than Stannis', breaking up the otherwise very black and white moral comparison between the two men. It serves as an interesting conflict of the morality of kinslaying compared to what readers might see as a moral obligation of getting rid of a monster such as Ramsay; contrasting Shireen whose death would not be seen as worth it by most. Ramsay as a bastard (who was almost killed at birth if he hadnt been able to prove his paternity) also makes for an interesting verbal parallel with the bastard Edric Storm, and might be used for a look at the utilitarian principle of killing a child (baby ramsay/edric) to save countless people from suffering that underpinned Edric's story.

"As Faulkner says, all of us have the capacity in us for great good and for great evil, for love but also for hate. I wanted to write those kinds of complex character in a fantasy, and not just have all the good people get together to fight the bad guy." - Grrm

"Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?" - Eddard VIII, aGoT

"If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" - "Everything," said Davos, softly. - Davos V, aSoS

However Grrm decides to present these conflicts or which actions the characters will take in the end, it will result in interesting discussion and analysis for the readers.

His Endgame?

Looking at the trends of the past books, it is probably going to be hard to predict any specific outcome; every book introduces new characters and plot elements that were impossible to predict from the last book even if their thematic importance or setup was aptly foreshadowed.

Roose has a lot of plot importance and characterization that has, in my opinion, not yet been properly resolved in a way that would be unique and poignant to the specific purpose his character appears to fulfil. However I also have a bias in that i did not like the show's writing of that scene which makes me averse to see a version of it in the books, and i really like Roose as a character and want to see him have more scenes in the next book(s). This leads me to discount plot speculation that cuts his character arc short offscreen early. Roose is only a side character; however, i have trust in grrm's writing abilities and that he would give him a proper sendoff that feels satisfying to a fan of the character.

"…even the [characters] who are complete bastards, nasty, twisted, deeply flawed human beings with serious psychological problems… When I get inside their skin and look out through their eyes, I have to feel a certain — if not sympathy, certainly empathy for them. I have to try to perceive the world as they do, and that creates a certain amount of affection." — George Martin

Considering my earlier analyis, there is a case to be made for Roose killing Ramsay; however it appears grrm might have a different endgame in mind for Ramsay, foreshadowed in Chett's prologue:

There'd be no lord's life for the leechman's son, no keep to call his own, no wives nor crowns. Only a wildling's sword in his belly, and then an unmarked grave. The snow's taken it all from me . . . the bloody snow . . . - Chett, aSoS

I tend to think something might happen to Roose/the Bolton bloc later in the book that would cause Ramsay to attempt to flee the scene again like he did back in aCoK fleeing Rodrik's justice; perhaps Ramsay is sent out to battle but then flees it like a coward, or he sees his cause as lost. This time, the fleeing and potentially disguised Ramsay would not make it out to safety though, and get killed without being recognized as Ramsay, dying forgotten. This would serve as dramatic irony since Ramsay so strongly desired to be recognized and respected as a Lord of Bolton, without being too on the nose.

As for Roose, i could see him getting captured and somehow brought to justice (either when someone takes Winterfell or in some sort of battle). I see it unlikely that he will be backstabbed like Robb was, because it seems very "eye for an eye" and ultimately doesn't teach much of a lesson except "he had it coming"; But the various people conspiring against him could lead to his capture by betraying him (giving a payoff to the northern conspiracies and the red wedding). I would find a scene of him standing trial interesting since i believe we didn't have one of these for a true non-pov villain yet, and it would be an interesting confrontation that he cannot escape from (he also loves to talk so it would be a good read to see him make a case for himself).

I assume Roose will be out of the picture when the Other plot finally properly kicks into gear (whether dead or "in prison"). With Stannis as a false Azor Ahai and Roose as a false Other (with his pale, cold features), their struggle in the north seems to be a representation of the false "Game of Thrones" that distracts people from the "real threat" of the Others.

As always this is just my opinion, and it could all go very differently in the books! There could always be something that completely uproots my analysis and goes into a direction i did not expect from the material we had; But i have fate that Grrm as a writer will deliver and give me something i can be satisfied with.

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

Taglist Open (DM)

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[hella1975]

DRUNK HELLA DONT ANSWER THIS ASK I DONT TRUST YOU

Sober hella, in your opinion, what is the best time/way to kill off a character? Basically like how to not pull a banana fish and just kill characters for the sake of a dramatic ending lmfao

omg hi i also saw this when i was drunk and immediately forgot id seen it but now i vividly remember being like 'hehe im gonna answer it just bc you told me not to' and then some smart part of me was like 'hella NO' and i put my phone down. anyway here goes:

so i think i have a very biased opinion bc my viewpoint on this subject as a reader is very 'please dont kill characters that i like please god no' and it tends to reflect in my writing, but having said that, as a writer i do understand that not only is it necessary but sometimes it just DOES spice things up? and that's okay! it's literally totally okay if you look at a character and go 'i am literally only killing you because it makes things interesting'. you dont need some in depth bullshit reason behind everything you do. like me and @rotisserie5107 were saying the other day, sometimes sexiness is the only justification you need with writing. and no that's not a sexual thing i just mean genuinely making choices that are fun/aesthetically pleasing/etc. there's a real narrative with fiction atm that EVERY choice a writer makes has to have a genius explanation behind it and if a scene/dialogue/character doesn't further the plot then you need to axe them from the story, but i personally think it's bollocks.

what im trying to get at is that things like this are less 'when to kill a character' and more 'when to think twice', which thankfully narrows things down quite a lot. whatever you're thinking rn for the poor sod in question, id honestly say trust your gut. you are a writer and this is a person you have plucked from your brain. you are the only person who can be trusted with them. the ONLY time you should think twice is when it starts getting a little too... real. if their death symbolises something in a bad way, if they're the only minority character, or even something like if you just have a LOT of character death. i watched game of thrones in its entirety and for the hundreds of characters that died i cant think of a single one i actually felt upset about, bc it just got so ingrained into me that that's just What This Show Did and if readers know there's a lot of character death, they get very very apathetic to it.

so anyway sticking with the example of banana fish bc i think i may have mentioned once or twice how i feel about that show <3 (bf spoilers ahead):

ash was a victim of extreme sexual trauma starting in childhood. he was exploited by your typical rich white men. he was a child. his narrative was angled in a way that made him seem like he was going to get a happy ending just for it to be cruelly snatched away in the last 10 mins for the sake of shock alone. these are all factors that make his death grotesque. now this is all personal opinion bc there's a LOT of debate in the fandom about this, but ive made it very clear that i genuinely dont think there's any justification behind killing him off. 'it was foreshadowed' 'death was an escape' etc are all really fickle defences to me, because at the end of the day, what the author wound up saying is that people who can see their own traumas in ash are incapable of healing and shouldnt even bother, and that suicide (bc we all know he could have called an ambulance) is not only a good choice but quite possibly their only choice.

HOWEVER, as much as i hate it, if yoshida was so hellbent on killing ash off, there are ways i think she could have done it better. the shock element, for example. i dont think it's an inherently bad writing tool - hell ive done it myself a couple times - but killing the MAIN CHARACTER of the show in the last 10 minutes made it seem really thrown together regardless of foreshadowing and just gratuitously cruel to ash. he did not get the time he deserved and the viewer is kind of just left sitting there. i know i personally didn't actually cry or anything when banana fish ended bc i was still so stunned by what the fuck i just witnessed. i think if he'd died the episode before or at the beginning of the episode and we got to see things pan out from there and just have it SETTLE a bit, it wouldnt be so disrespectful to ash. also, less to do with writing which is why i stressed earlier that the 'donts' are actually significantly fewer than the 'just go mentals': yoshida had a habit of saying really dodgy shit in interviews that made it clear that the defence many viewers used in favour of ash's death - that it made narrative sense and allowed him freedom he 'only could have achieved in death' yadda yadda; they try make out it's super artistic idc - is actually bullshit, bc yoshida has ADMITTED that she thinks ash is a bad person and that's why she killed him, bc he has also killed people and therefore DESERVES TO DIE. so this is more of a check your own mindset before you kill a character. if they're a villain then go for it, but if you're enforcing some personal vendetta on a victim that has some real honest trauma then just be careful. that comment is super harmful, bc her 'this criminal deserves to die' blanket statement translates to 'this seventeen year old who has suffered the most horrific abuse and has been forced to do terrible things to survive to the point he doesnt know anything else deserves the exact same fate as the old men who knew EXACTLY what they were doing when they abused him'. like. come on

basically, there's actually very few ways to kill a character BADLY. youve got to consider that the reader wont like it no matter what you do (again, unless it's a villain), and if they do then you're doing something wrong bc you WANT them to love this character, to grieve them, to be angry for them. but it's killing them in a way that is DISRESPECTFUL to that character that things go wrong, and what is disrespectful to certain characters isnt disrespectful to others. ash showed nothing but grit and a need to survive for 24 whole episodes. when he was stabbed, he was RUNNING TO EIJI IN ORDER TO GIVE LIFE ANOTHER CHANCE. he was healing, he was hopeful, and we're supposed to accept that he let himself succumb to the same fate as his abusers, and not only that, but that he 'deserved' it. it's disgusting and really detrimental to a lot of victims of sexual trauma that ive seen discussing this in the fandom, because it is INCREDIBLY disrespectful to their trauma and their healing. if you took a different character though and killed them in the exact same way, it could work, because like i said, disrespect is subjective.

i hope that makes sense?

so yeah, banana fish is very much an outlier i think. try not to stress about it, im sure you'll pull it off and ruin EVERYONE'S day by pulling off a beautifully tragic character death x

[heyjude19-writing]

Im the list anon again and boy do I have more for you but this time I also have some questions as well if your time allows and you are willing to answer of course. First with the other things I loved:

1) the fact that Ron warmed up to Draco so quickly! I genuinely think thats so much in character. Ron is not a distrustful person and as a middle child as they come is very easygoing and would for sure make stupid jokes at Draco

2) The patronus. My god the Patronus. I seriously put the phone down and made a small slow clap during that chapter. At first I was like hmmmm *insert unsure kombucha girl face* because almost all fanfics have him with a dragon patronus and leave it at that (and lets be honest at this point my expectations of you were quite high dont blame me blame your bloody brilliant writing) but then, and I dont know if you did this on purpose or not (I have a feeling you did) but the fact that the dragon was the same (pale white) wounded but still feral dragon that Hermione FREEED (!) from a bank (£££) dungeon, malnourished and used for its nature, surrounded by darkness, wealth and misery!! And it was Hermione who broke its chains!!!!! Is just *chefs fucking kiss* slow clap*

3) the way you describe sex scenes are so natural! Ive never read a fanfic or book that doesnt make me gag a little bit (I am not a fan of smut at all but ill go with it because of a good story) until I read yours. Its so simple but yet intricate and you make the entire act so intriguing and normal and intimate. Bravo.

4) I LOVE SASHA. I love that Theo fell for her head over heels and the way you portrayd her reminded me of a friend of mine who works as a sous-chef in London so I always pictured her when reading it!

5) Dracos inner voice is ON POINT. Like I genuinely think you shoud own the rights to that character now.

6) Ill say it again. I love Ginny. You should also own the rights to her character too.

7) my interest for Quiddich (even when reading the books/wathcing the movies) was on par, if not lower than Hermiones. You managed to get me interested in that too so yes another slow clap to you

7.1) Also such a clever career for Draco!! Made si much sense!

Now to some questions

A) What was the deal with Malfoy referring to Ginny as Weasly and refusing to aknowledge her Potter surname. And why did everyone kept correcting him? It was hilarious granted but I wanted to know whether the reason you included this time and time again had to do wih something deeper? Or was this included as just a funny recurring joke?

B) Why did you choose for Draco to have a “fantasy” to produce a patronus and not for example for him to have had to do that after theyd exchanged “i love yous”. Very interesting angle and i liked that it was sort of a loophole to all the ‘death eaters cant have patronuses’ but quite curious on the thought process

C) Why did you opt for Draco to remove his mark? Do you think that stands as reward for him more or for Hermione? Very smart solution by the way

D) if you have the time- Could you please elaborate a tad more on what the soul-bonding means? Why was it so taboo? At furst hand it seems like a very romantic/amazing thing to do with your partner right?

Lastly- Do you ever itch to make a second part to this? And in the most acceptable case that you dont, I always wondered what you had in mind for them in the future- because of the soul bonding thing, you mentioned that the generational curses will be erased, which means I guess that the Malfoys can have more than one child now, and girls as well. (I cannot believe im asking for this as I am the one to avoid any pregnancy fanfics but) do you imagine them with children and if yes, how many? How do they integrate muggle devices(I know youd agree wit me that Hermione would definitively bring some muggle stuff over!) and which devices would Draco really secretly like?

Pleasewriteasecondpartwhereyouelaborateyourthoughtsonthisthankyou.

Ok rant done. :D

List anon! You’re back with another amazing ask. I’ll do my best!

1.) I like to think Ron matured a lot post-war (not enough to stop making terrible jokes, though.)

2.) Regarding your beautiful analysis of my specific dragon breed for Draco’s patronus: How many points would you like for your Hogwarts house of choice? I will add that according to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the Ironbelly’s scales are normally a metallic grey. I will also add that I subscribe more to book canon than movie canon. In the book version of events of the Gringotts escape, Harry breaks the chains and Hermione (with eventual help once the boys catch on) destroys the ceiling so it can have a way out. The partially blind dragon does the rest of the work on its own.

3.) Thank you, that’s very flattering.

4.) Does your friend also get you into fancy restaurants and can they make salted caramel bread pudding???

5.) Thank you, it was one of my favorite aspects of writing this story.

6.) Thank you, she’s so fun to write and flesh out from her book portrayal.

7.) Haha, I felt so validated by that line of dialogue in Cursed Child when Draco tells Harry he wanted to play quidditch professionally, but wasn’t good enough.

Now to some answers:

A.) It’s definitely a recurring joke. It’s up to the reader to interpret Draco’s actions here: is he doing it to be a massive troll? Or is he genuinely not retaining the information of her married name because he considers this fact so unimportant that he does not bother to keep it in his brain? Troll, snob, or both, you can decide!

B.) I’ll address the second part of this first, because it was not intended as a loophole. I 1000% do not understand the “death eaters can’t have patronuses” thing. It makes absolutely no sense. Snape has a Patronus. But beyond that… Umbridge has a Patronus (a cat). If we’re letting that woman have a Patronus, then yeah, I think Draco can cast one. As for the vision that Draco used to conjure it… up to you whether that’s a fantasy or a glimpse of a certain ritual actually working. Draco’s thoughts on the matter: “An image of such striking tangibility that he might have already lived it, or perhaps experienced time in such a way that he lived it now.”

C.) I wanted Draco to have a choice, obviously a recurring theme for him in RN. For my characterization of him, that symbol on his arm causes him nothing but shame and self-loathing (see the end of chapter 36 during his heart-to-heart with Hermione). He’d already exercised almost every known avenue to rid himself of it before Hermione entered his life (he lists these in chapter 44). Hermione already loved him (and has told him so) by the time she’s figured out how to remove it: “I love the man you are today and I will love that man tomorrow, bare forearm or not. I simply wanted you, for once, to have the choice. It’s your body.”

D.) Ooh anon, you are tempting me here. I really hate to be coy, but you might see some future writing on this very topic.

I can at least answer the taboo part: I think soul magic in general (horcruxes, the use of unicorn blood) is quite taboo in the HP universe. As no one knows what happens after death (not even ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick says as much when Harry asks him point-blank in OoTP) I think most magical folk would think the intense ritual (blending magical cores) an unnecessary thing anyway. As Draco explains in chapter 48, since no one actually knows the effects or if it works, it’s considered a bit over-the-top since it’s probably futile anyway. It is also not a Vow with a death component; Narcissa is obviously alive in this story even though Lucius is already dead. I wrote the generational curse protection theory in as a dig at Cursed Child for the way they handled Astoria’s character.

The idea of it I think is romantic, but I will stress it is very dependent upon the intent of the two participants. To quote Draco in chapter 48 again: “To twine one’s soul to another showed a willingness to not only physically tether one’s self during your time here on earth, but to commit to a blending of your magical cores, putting faith in your magic to recognize its bonded counterpart in another life. Should other lives even exist.”

If you re-read Draco’s experience during the bonding ceremony in chapter 51 (starting from this bit: “The cognizance of his own powers never felt sharper, more familiar, but suddenly another power pulsed within to join with his.”) you might find it bears a resemblance to the trajectory of their relationship.

Lastly- I’ve left Draco and Hermione to their wedded bliss. I’ve got nothing planned for them beyond where they are in the final lines of chapter 51. I don’t have that itch to write more into their future because it would feel forced. Draco laid out his two envisioned futures with Hermione in chapter 48 when they discuss having or not having children. They are happy and content in the life they chose together. That’s all I ever wanted for them.

You will see more from this story though. I have an entire series of one-shots and outtakes from the published Remain Nameless timeline that I’ll start posting soon.

Thank you so much list anon! These were fun to answer!

[thehardkandy]

starting to write was the best decision i ever made not because i dream of it ever being a career choice for me, just because... it’s therapeutic man. there’s a HUGE ramble below the cut

the same way im always writing text posts with no real function other than to put the words of my brain down and make them feel real, that’s what writing is all about for me.

like my brain has always prepared my thoughts narratively, or at least in the form of essays, sorta. very little of what i type or say out loud has not already been formed into coherent thoughts in my head at some point. ordered. made modular so that i can pick and choose the parts of my prepared essays for presentation for the world. and frequently i go back, revise, update the narratives of how i understand what’s happened to me, and what yet happen

the other night i spent approximately 50 minutes walking in a circle not because i was having a meltdown, but because of the opposite--ive been feeling so good! And it felt like the right time to fully re-conceptualize the last few years of my life.

it took 50 minutes! and actually I think i only covered since the beginning of 2019! i think my head my intended audience was some vague dr person to whom i was explaining the context of my mental health, since i almost always have an intended  audience whenever i have an internal dialogue. i anticipate questions, tangents. it very rarely covers everything that could be said, but for the time it covers as much as i can possibly imagine.

and then so writing is the flip side of that. it lets be re-conceptualize myself, but if i pluck myself out of this world and out of my history.

i put my virtues and my flaws into people who otherwise are not me. they are cis. they are non-human. they are train wrecks. they are heroes.

the more different lives i live and understand, the easier it gets for me to live this one.

i remember so vividly reading hunger games for the first time in grade 11. you know, katniss is deeply traumatized and in the centre of something impossible. and i just..... couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just choose to die--why the thought would barely even cross her mind! and i ran into that feeling for a hundred different books ive read

why do these people keep going. it’s not that i think any one of them in particular are examples of inhuman valour. they are just... people. people also written by people where that sort of thinking isn’t an option in their life.

i think that’s why ive always vibed with Lirael so hard man. like!!! holy shit!!! that’s a ya book but within the first few chapters, you see her suicidal. literally stand on the edge of the cliff, thinking about how there’s something wrong with her. it’s not the generic “UwU i’m not like other girls” it felt so deeply relatable to me.

that felt so lived and real, and so somehow me growing up felt like joining her growing up, eventually.

i remember being almost.... upset when i read Goldenhand not because I didn’t like the book, but because it felt like she grew past me. I was still stuck feeling alone at every level on my life, and her she was forming ever deeper relationships with people

it was so hard to deal with for me! i almost resented her. but then i eventually was like.... okay. there’s soemthing locked inside here. something in me... something in me that i still need to work on

that book came out when i was in 3rd year, so it had been 3 years since my last suicide attempt, but that year was also the one i tried dating for the first time since also 3 years prior. and it didnt go well. i felt hollow and at arms length from the person i was dating, despite genuinely liking them a lot and having an incredible time together

i think that all counts as sort of... tickles of the gender. at the end of Abhorsen, Lirael has done great things. Made new friends. but then we sorta fade to place. i didnt have to feel this weird... displacement of seeing her actually settle into having a place in the world, i simply saw her first step into it

and that was where i was at in third year. i was learning to truly love what i was doing at school, but i was still extremely dissociated, didnt feel close with any of my friends, and frankly did not hang out with anyone ever.

it showed me that a bit better. and it was hardly something i remedied then. i just sat there and knew i shoudlnt be mad or upset with her--or the writing, haha.

but now we’ve finally come out the other end. im actually settling into my place in the world. im actually staying in touch with the people i care about. im loving the things i love. im loving who i am

and i think this all got really far from what i was saying about why i like writing................ who’s to say what the point is

i think at the end of the day im just trying to make myself feel seen in the things that i write, in the ways ive felt seen in the books that ive read

and so sometimes im even scrabbling to see the things in myself ive barely even GLIMPSED

i scratch at the periphery of my understanding--like when you know there’s an itch, but if you look in the mirror you can’t point to where it is? you can only feel it. you can only rake your fingers over the area and hope one touches on it

thats what me trying to write sometimes is. raking my fingers over an area, trying to find where it is. trying to find why it is--is it a reaction, an infection? is it growth? is it all in my head?

im in love with writing and i never want to stop it, because ive now written so many words over so many years that i see myself written across page after page after page after page and it feels so good. even with none of these ever seeing the light of day

I remember my first ever book, Silhouettes in the Shadows (bad title, was kinda joke), where i had, of course, a dude who was selfish, suicidal, and yet placed his entire identity on this child he adopts after accidentally getting her parents killed. he would rather die, if he didnt feel responsible for her. i could psychoanalyze the SHIT out of that, from 2013

there’s another woman who shows up in the book. she’s kind of an ass to him, but she grows a little kinder. a little more understanding. a little more willing to meet her halfway. and then he kills her. and then he gets killed himself

it’s, uh, not a good book. just me putting all my fucked up self-hate onto the page.

but then after that... after that i think i write Two Halves Make a Whole, another shitty placeholder, which is set in a world in which magic can only be done in pairs. There’s a Conduit (I think?) and a Savant. The Conduit is the source of power, the Savant is the user of the power.

that book i was like... lets do some #gayrepresentation because im an english student now. its about a girl who goes to this magic school, and falls in love with this other girl. i remember distinctly trying not to think about the point when i cried in 2014 because i wrote this scene where she and this other girl just............ hold hands. nothing more intimate happens.

and so my main character is the Conduit, her love (which again is EXTREMELY guarded) is the Savant.

but.

some big war is brewing, and our mc decides she has to be involved. forces herself into a position where she cannot be denied. so the general is like, “okay, if you bond to my son.” and so she bonds to his son. and they get close, but not close like with the girl.

he’s a sweet little boy! which, naturally, means i kill him. halfway into the book my mc gets the first real taste of fighting, and when the boy is killed... it shatters their bond. unless one willing dissolves a bond--which takes over a week--it shattering leaves a part of the person stuck inside you forever, only allowing a Shallow bond with anyone after that

so she is... reunited with her love. they go on an adventure together but... they can never be as close as they once hoped together. they can spend a life together. but they can never actually be together, by the standards of this world because of the damage done to her by the previous bond

and again, i sure bet you could fuckin’ psychoanalyze that

i guess i wont go through all my books since this has gotten insanely long and im not getting more coherent--but this is why i said i walked for 50 minutes to create a cohesive narrative of my 2019-2020 life.

this is nonsense. and boy howdy, i should’ve just written instead of ramble all this LOL

[tossertozier]

you mentioned possibly doing a ben or mike writing guide.. would you.. be willing to post a mike one. i'm plotting a fic and im struggling to get my mans down?? also i think abt ur fics weekly bare minimum.

hi there!!! i did my best. i tried to not sound preachy or like a know it all bc y’all know i can barely write. i hope this is helpful in some way!! disclaimer of of course this is all just my opinion & there’s no wrong way to write, you’re the only person who can tell your story!!

[[MORE]]

i think the first really important decision you have to make as Person Writing Mike is his

family & background

-are both of his parents alive?

-if yes, what’s their relationship like?

-if no, who’s his primary caretaker? what’s their relationship like?

-if no, when did they die? did he cope well with it? what’s his relationship with their memory like?

these are really really where you gotta start to write mike imo. or any character! i think one thing stephen king is to be admired for is he doesn’t neglect the parent-child relationship as so many people who write youth do. your parents are the most important people in your life for a long time. i don’t think there’s a wrong or ooc way to answer the above questions tbh. canon has really left a wide open field for you to run amuck in.

(example: i’ve mentioned in the past that my & tfat mike being a small adult is no mistake and intentional. it’s a bit of a throwaway scene, but i mention in on pointe that mike’s parents are coming. it’s intentionally done there too. mike is goofier, more outgoing, more immature in general in that fic in the small bits he’s in & that’s all a response to his familial life. )

culture + friendships

after you answer those questions, important follow up questions are:

-are the losers his first set of friends?

-how much social exposure has he had?

-has he dated? who is he attracted to?

-who influences him? (celebrities, family, culturally)

-what are his cultural interests? what does he do in his free time? how would that impact how he interacts with the rest of the world?

again, no wrong way to answer these. i’ve seen a super broad spectrum of indirect answers to these questions. even thinking about where he might pick up patterns of speech can make him feel much more like a realized character. i’ve noticed some people dip fully into aave to an extent that doesn’t even seem logical in their character’s current situation & it can really seem like a caricature, but i think to write mike without any sense of aave at all is a little ?? too. just be cognizant of it is my only real advice here. it doesn’t so much matter as long as you don’t forget who mike is which next point

humor & personality

-what do you think he would find (shows, comedians, youtube videos) really funny?

-does he have something he quotes often? something he started saying ironically but never stopped?

man i know i’m all there’s no wrong way to write mike !! in this post but i will say real quick that i think mike is funny and i don’t really respect depictions of him where he’s not. i think this is where the movies really just fucked up. book mike drops some of the funniest lines of the book. and honest to god tip is to write out a scene as you feel the urge too, look away for five minutes, look back and give half of richie’s lines away. (or... dialogue.) this sounds like a joke but it was what i did when i first started writing & tfat

i’d always be like “n the funny part goes... to richie.” and thats a fandom inclination too. nooooo. avoid this trap. it doesn’t even make sense. have u ever been in a friend group where only one person... makes jokes? that’d be genuinely so weird. especially bc if you give the joke away to someone else, you can also build on it. amazing things start happening when u start thinking of the characters in flexible patterns. like for example, i almost always give absurdist humor to stan now. wholesome to ben.

mike’s humor is largely situational to me. solid comedic timing & he’s an observant person. sometimes i read back my own writing & have to change the pov bc richies making jokes about things he would never ever notice to make fun of. mike would. mike genuinely sees all. i think he’s just got one of the most analytical brain of the losers. & i think intelligence is subjective and people are smart in different ways but i think it’s foolish to write him as anything other than incredibly intelligent both academically and emotionally. he’s just a natural observer and pattern notice-er. which brings me to my next mike thing:

love & selflessness

i think the biggest part of mike being harder to flesh into a fully realized person is the fandom tendency to make him kind and nothing else. here’s mike. he’s nice. next. bc the book kind of points out his selflessness in his decisions and it makes itself one of his strongest character traits.

especially bc nice seems to trump him having any other emotions. ...no?

i believe in general, but ESPECIALLY in the case of mike, that kindness is a choice. it’s one i genuinely believe he’d make, over & over again. but a choice he makes. he gets annoyed with his friends being annoying like anyone else would. he gets hurt when he feels left out. he feels tired & anxious & hungry and all those other human things. sometimes he might not let it show outwardly, but there’s a difference between that and not giving him feelings at all.

people are selfish. it’s a defense mechanism. it’s to protect us. it’s not a bad thing. we think of how the world impacts ourselves first. we don’t always act upon those thoughts or voice them, but don’t forget to let mike have them. he doesn’t need to be happy for his friends all the time, or rooting for them or supportive. he should have his own things going on.

also. mike’s not a doormat. yes, he stays in derry. but those were life-death consequences for generations of children. it’s really not comparable to almost any decision mike would make in a pennywise free universe. yes, he made a sacrifice in the book but i don’t think he’d just lay himself down in any given universe to whatever fate wants to hand him. but this is where i end this topic bc i’m actually only barely beginning to get to this topic in my own fic!

it’s hard writing the losers young sometimes bc i do feel relationships are naturally a little unbalanced based on basic maturity levels as young people. sometimes friendships just are unbalanced bc of who people are at that time. everyone involved can still be good people in these relationships. it’s about growing together and learning how to be good friends to each other.

for example, in &tfat: certain losers are always checking in with others. others are really wrapped up in their own shit and don’t really notice what bothers the others. it would probably take a chart the size of a textbook to explain how i think this dynamic wholly pans out in full. and yeah, i think it grates on mike a little bit that he is always the checker and never the checkee.

but even when mike snaps, even when he gets upset, i always write it coming out of him with a lot of love. i genuinely think mike, regardless of experience in that fic, has the deepest understanding of love as its own concept and an understand of how exactly it rules his life and and his relationships. mike knows to feel strongly about something he has to care about it. there are lots of things he just doesn’t care about. in the book it’s stated he’s difficult to connect with as an adult. he’s distant. he’s focused on what he wants to focus on. i think mike is actually the most interesting when he becomes a little bit of a disaster man with very little time for what doesn’t interest him.

which last thing, dislikes & disinterests

-what annoys him?

-what makes him genuinely angry?

-what bores him to tears?

i always make jokes that i bring up the nastier parts of the losers bc i love nasty boys but thinking of things people don’t like is as much a part of them as the things they do.

for example, in &tfat, i write richie as making fun of “nerdy” things like anything you could find at comic con. i write bev as not giving a fuck about sports. bill doesn’t care about richie’s music tastes. eddie hates getting condescended to.

bc of the ... kind thing, mike’s one of the harder losers to do this with. i genuinely think mike would listen to any of his friends tell him about anything. & he knows, in return, they can’t say shit when he wants to ramble about history. but dislikes can also be super situational.

again, for example in & tfat: mike doesn’t like when his friends talk about college right now. no one is really being sensitive to him at all. he hates getting blamed for stuff that isn’t his fault, mostly bc it keeps happening.

anyway. i based a lot of my mike (mostly sense of humor and personality) off of a mix of real life friends of mine. it’s a luxury. i know. i’ve been blessed to have friends from literally all walks of life & for me borrowing little habits & quirks & sayings & jokes to slip into my fics and characters is my way of writing one massive love letter to those ive known. i hope i’ve helped you in some way anon. n if not.... don’t be sad i’m hardly one to take writing advice from anyway jandjxjx

overall, as i used to do often, i’d genuinely stop myself and say: is this a person, or a convenience for the plot? and if it was the latter, sigh, and get my backspace key ready.

[micaiahsilverhairedmaiden]

I took the time to do more or less a translation NOT THAT ACCURATE of the Radiant Drama CD. Since I'm not an expert in Japanese at all (I only know some phrases and words, but it seems to me that many dialogues are very clear, since they're directly the same from the game). 

So I leave you summary of each part of the CD Drama, but don't forget that it ISN'T ACCURATE: ---

☀️INTRODUCTION☀️

Dialogue between Ike and Micaiah of Scene III, and then they both say the title of the Drama CD “Clash of Heroic Ideals”.

☀️SCENE II☀️

Ike and Soren are preparing for their fight. I THINK Ike mentions that although Shinon doesn't believe that he is the best leader, he will do everything possible to be as good as Greil. Soren tells him that he will be fighting by his side (but apparently he has a bad feeling or something that worries him), finally Titania arrives to tell them to prepare to leave.

☀️SCENE III☀️

Sothe questions Micaiah why she follows Pelleas's orders if she doesn't want to fight, and Micaiah questions Sothe if he really is the one who doesn't want to fight (the weird/funny thing is that she sounds like she's teasing him), as they would face Ike and the Greil Mercenaries, to which Sothe replies that although he doesn't like the idea of confronting Ike, he will always fight with Micaiah, since he promised to protect her. Micaiah tells him that he has matured a lot and Sothe says "Of course, I'm not a child anymore", and then a soldier come to warn that the enemy has arrived, so they leave with the shouts of the Daein soldiers supporting them.

☀️SCENE IV☀️

Basically this conversation between Ike and Sothe:

SOTHE: Commander Ike! IKE: Look at you Sothe. You’ve grown a lot. I almost forgot… You’re originally from Daein. SOTHE: I’m glad you remembered. I hope it helps explain why I’m here. IKE: Did you find the person you were looking for? SOTHE: Yes. She commands this army. IKE: The Maiden of Dawn? SOTHE: Please don’t call her by that ridiculous name. Her name is Micaiah. IKE: I see. SOTHE: Commander, I… I didn’t want to see you like this. IKE: But you don’t intend to retreat, do you? SOTHE: That’s right. IKE: Sothe, before you challenge me, you better be ready never to see that girl again. Can you handle that? SOTHE: Wh-what?! IKE: If you can’t, stay away from me. You’ll get no mercy, despite our past. I’m sorry, Sothe, but the choices we’ve made have brought us to this. There’s no turning back now. SOTHE: I understand, Commander. And to answer your question… Yes, sir, I can handle that. Whenever you’re ready, Commander.

Then Micaiah interrupts attacking Ike and they have basically this conversation:

MICAIAH: You must be Ike, of the Greil Mercenaries. IKE: And you’re the Maiden of Dawn, Micaiah? MICAIAH: I feel like I know you already. Maybe it’s because Sothe has told me so much about you. IKE: I hate to do this to Sothe, but if you stand before me as my enemy, you’ll get no mercy from me. MICAIAH: … Good. I prefer it that way. Prepare yourself!

Now Soren interrupts defending Ike, saying he will not let them harm him, or something like that... The two parties exchange blows, Micaiah is damaged and Ike tells her to leave, to which she responds that she can't do that. Then, before receiving a lethal blow of Ike, Black Knight arrives to protect her, and Sothe takes advantage to take Micaiah and to flee with her. Ike and BK have basically this conversation:

IKE: So, you are alive. Somehow, I knew it wasn’t over yet. BLACK KNIGHT: Of course it wasn’t over. You were a boy trying to live up to the memory of the greatest swordsman in history. IKE: And yet, I was the one who walked out of the castle that day. BLACK KNIGHT: You have your father to thank for that. When you told me that he had crippled himself, I realized that I had never fought him at all, merely his shadow. IKE: What are you getting at? BLACK KNIGHT: I saw immediately that you were not your father’s equal, but that one day you might be. So I did the only thing I could to keep you alive… I let you win. IKE: …You did, didn’t you? I’ve relived that fight so many times… How could I not have seen it before? BLACK KNIGHT: You were not yet capable of seeing it. But I had to let you live, so that you could continue to train and perhaps one day be worthy of Gawain’s legacy. My armor’s blessing is gone, let us see if that day is today. IKE: I promise you that it will be. Begin.

☀️SCENE IV☀️

Sothe flees with Micaiah and he's very worried because she's badly damaged, but she's more concerned if Daein loses the fight. She insists that it's her duty to fight and protect everyone, but Sothe tells her that if she returns to the battlefield, they will kill her. I think Sothe tells her that he cares more for her than the rest of the world, and then she faints.

☀️SCENE V☀️

BK and Ike are fighting and exchanging words like they both are stronger now, but then Daein soldiers make a joint attack on Ike hurting him, and when BK is about to give the final blow to Ike, Soren traverses to prevent it. BK tells him to move if he doesn't want to die, but Soren insists that he will protect Ike, and then he starts to think "Ike, maybe you don't remember it anymore... but you were the one who saved me as a child when I was about to die of hunger", and recalls his past vowing to himself never to leave Ike, no matter what. BK says that if he wants to die protecting that man, it will be so, and he attacks him, but now Titania comes to save them saying that she will not allow BK to kill more of her family again. Ike regains consciousness and Soren becomes so happy that he starts crying. So Ike, Titania and Soren together attack the BK and manage to damage him.

Then they have this conversation or something very similar: BLACK KNIGHT: Impressive. You have indeed begun to walk in Gawain’s footsteps. IKE: Do you admit defeat, then? BLACK KNIGHT: No, but I have finished taking your measure. You have made great progress, but still fall short. IKE: The next time we meet, it will be for the last time. I will avenge my father! BLACK KNIGHT: Continue to train, Ike, son of Gawain. We will meet again.

BK then tells Soren that the two of them are the same, and that even though he has found a partner for his life (Ike), he is going to live much less than Soren, exactly the same in the case of Micaiah with Sothe. Ike tells him that he couldn't understand, because they all have a reason to live...so the BK decides to leave promising that they will see each other again.

☀️SCENE VI☀️

Micaiah's very worried because the battle didn't turn out as expected and she fears for Daein's future, but Sothe tells her not to give up, that they can still save their country. Micaiah says something like that although she isn't as strong and imposing as Ike, she will not give up and will do anything for Daein, I also think she thanks Sothe for fighting by her side ... and I'm not sure what joke she says to Sothe that makes him somewhat uncomfortable, but something of the style "If Ike and I were to fight again, would you still choose me?" (I'm not sure about this, but I think it's something like that 😅)

[t0ngue-tech]

A Whirlwind Summer

“’You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.’ Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

‘Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.’ You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

‘That’s me.’”

↠highschoolAU(obviiii) fluff n’ angst, lots of dialogue if yall dont mind huhu↞

word count: 15k oh my god

↠oneshot↞

a/n: THE LAST TIME I UPLOADED WAS IN DECEMBER HOLY BALLS IM SORRY LOL. ive been writing this on and off for about two months and im so happy to have finally finished it. i hope you guise like it ^-^

Summer was supposed to be two months filled with late nights and lots of leisure reading. You had plans to finally finish a book series that you started at the beginning of the year and of course, you made sure to make time in your busy schedule to hang out with Jisoo.

It was two weeks into summer and you didn’t touch the series you planned to read because your mother thought it would be a good idea to come home from work one day with a bunch of applications for a summer job. You told her that you wanted to start working in college where you were allowed to work on campus and she didn’t mind at all, so when she handed you the stack of applications, you were confused.

“It’s only for the summer, sweetheart. And after this you have some work experience.” Was her reasoning and you knew you couldn’t say no.

After filling out the applications and going to a few interviews, you ultimately decided to work at a cozy ice cream parlour that was located across the park you frequented.

It was early evening which meant there weren’t as much people coming into the parlour. Jisoo was waiting with you to finish because she was going to sleepover at your house. You didn’t drive, so Jisoo was also your ticket home instead of you making the fifteen minute walk back to your house.

“Lighten up, y/n. Sure, your summer may have been ever-so-slightly ruined, but you get free ice cream, so who’s the real winner here?” Jisoo turned a page from her book and sipped on a rootbeer float you prepared for her.

“I have books I’d rather read.”

“But you’re getting paid now! And more money means more books!”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Jisoo was right. Instead of verbally admitting it, you took away her rootbeer float and with that, you two jokingly bickered over your slight stubbornness.

The familiar jingle from the entrance door rang and a boy you both knew walked in with three kids who seemed over-excited to be there.

The boy was Kim Taehyung and the only reason why you knew him was because Jisoo had mentioned him a few times and how his friends were always hanging out near the bleachers, blastic music through speakers during lunch and after school. You never spoke to him and you’ve never really gotten in close proximity with him until now. He mumbled something to the kids he was with and strided over the Jisoo who seemed less enthusiastic about the conversation. The kids ran up to the glass that shielded the ice cream flavours and they easily distracted you from focusing on whatever he was talking about with Jisoo.

“At least just think about it.” Taehyung slowly walked towards the register where you were punching in his total.

“Five dollars and thirty-two cents.” You squeezed into his one-sided conversation.

Quietly, he reached into his wallet and brought out the exact change, recounting the cents over and over just to make sure it was correct.

“Jisoo, just think about it and if not, I’ll just relay the message to him—thank you.” He gently plucked the receipt from your hand and gathered the kids who were happily eating their dessert.

“Fine.” Jisoo sighed, not looking up from her book. Taehyung breathed a quiet thank you to her and motioned the kids towards the door.

Before you could even ask, Jisoo answered your question for you.

“I swear, Seo Joon needs to run his errands himself instead of making Taehyung do it.” She slammed her book shut. “I already told him that I don’t want to get back together.”

“Didn’t you two break up like two months ago?” You asked.

“Yes! Since he thought it was a good idea to ‘fake break up’ with me as a dare or whatever, then he’s going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“Spicy.” You commented.

“Exactly. Now, another refill on that rootbeer float because god knows I need it.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

A new week, yet the same routine. You woke up that morning, did your usual morning rituals, and walked down to the ice cream parlour with an audiobook playing through your earphones.

Hours ticked on and families came and went, looking for a cold oasis in the heat. You were on the floor with your manager that afternoon and luckily you got along just fine with him.

An elderly woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Song was a regular at the parlour since she was a teenager. So, when she saw a new face, your face in particular, she was elated.

She came into the parlour with her caretaker every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. They sat at the same seats near the counter and ate the same flavour every visit; mint chip for the caretaker and neapolitan for Mrs. Song.

Mrs. Song was a sweet old lady who easily forgets a lot of things. Whenever she saw you and Jisoo, she would always refer to you two as “sweetheart” or “deary”; you loved it whenever she called you that.

The parlour wasn’t as busy except for a few members from the city’s little league came in with their parents. Mrs. Song was reading through a newspaper and her caretaker had her nose inside of a book. You had just finished sweeping from behind the register when the bell of the entrance door rang when a familiar dark haired boy walked in with three younger kids who seemed high in spirits.

Taehyung was a stranger to you, so you weren’t looking for any sort of conversation with him. But you did have a feeling that he was probably going to ask you about Jisoo. The three kids sat on the remaining counter seats, waving sweetly at Mrs. Song who seemed excited to see them.

Taehyung approached the casing where the tubs of ice cream were and you were hoping your manager was going to take his order, but after a quick look around the room, he wasn’t present.

Good grief. You set aside the broom and glided towards the ice cream flavors.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The tone of your customer service voice disgusted you.

“Yeah uh, can I have three small cups of cookies and cream, chocolate, and rocky road.” Taehyung hummed as you reached for three cups. “What flavor do you recommend?”

You stared at the flavors for a moment before grabbing the ice cream scooper. “I personally like chestnut praline and brownie crunch.”

He nodded his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek, still indecisive on what flavor he wanted.

“Would you like a sample of both?” You asked.

“Hm, sure.”

You grabbed two plastic spoons and scooped up a tiny portion of each flavor for him to try and as he pondered his choices, you finished up the kids’ orders and set it in front of them.

“I’ll just take brownie crunch in the medium cup, please.” Taehyung spoke whilst throwing away the spoons in the nearby trash can.

As you were scooping the amount into the cup, you glanced at Taehyung who was pulling out a couple of bills out of his wallet. He looked over at the kids who were having a great time listening to Mrs. Song tell a story.

“That’ll be seven dollars and seventy-two cents.” You handed over the cup with a napkin wrapped around it.

Taehyung handed you two five dollar bills and took a bite of his ice cream.

“You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.” Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.” You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

“That’s me.” There was a brief moment of silence between you two as he lazily stuffed the change into his pocket. “Well, I’ll see you around. Let’s go guys.”

The three little boys waved goodbye to Mrs. Song and her caretaker. Her eyes lit up as she watched them leave the parlour. She then turned to you and said with a smile, “your boyfriend works well with kids, sweetheart.”

There was no point in telling her otherwise because she was probably not going to remember who Taehyung was the next time she was going to see him. So, you just smiled politely and wiped down the counter with a small towel.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your day offs never seemed to recharge your battery to its fullest capacity, but it was enough for you to wind down with a book and an iced tea.

Although today wasn’t one of those days.

It was a warm and slow late afternoon. You were sitting on a stool behind the register, reading one of your books and drinking a milkshake your manager made for you. You were heavily invested in your book that you almost didn’t hear the door open.

To your surprise, Taehyung walked in with his head down and his shoulders dipped forward. As he walked closer to the counter, you noticed multiple splotches of dirt and grass all over his clothes. There was also a fresh gash the size of a golf ball on his knee.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?!” You snapped your book shut with your bookmarker almost sliding out. He was going to take a seat at one of the stools at the counter but you guided him to one of the tables so he has back support.

“My cousin had little league practice and a some of the kids’ chaperones and I decided to have a little game of our own.” Taehyung explained and slowly lifted his injured leg to rest on the second chair you pulled out for him. “I was going for home base and slid towards it as if my life depended on it—I mean, my team won, but at what cost?” He winced as he adjusted himself in the chair.

“Hold on, I’ll get a first aid kit.” You disappeared in the back room and quickly returned with a large white box.

Cleaning up cuts and scratches was a norm for you because of how much time you spent watching your little cousins at the park. It happened so often that it became it habit to carry band aids and alcohol pads in your bag.

“So, where’s your cousin?” You crouched beside him and rummaged through the box.

“He already had plans to play video games at his friend’s house after practice so he went there and I...ended up here.” Taehyung explained squeezing his eyes shut.

“And what brought you here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was just walking and—ow! Fuck!” His entire leg flinched at the sudden contact of his gash and the alcohol pad touching.

“Shit, sorry! I should’ve warned you, I’m so sorry!” On instinct, you blew on his gash to cool down the stinging of the alcohol--something you did for your cousins.

“It’s uh, it’s okay, sorry. You can continue.” Taehyung tightly gripped the hem of his shirt and looked away to brace for impact, so with caution, you proceeded to clean his wound.

There were broken hisses coming from him and he squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until his knuckles ghosted white. You glanced up at him once in a while and pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling. This sight was a complete 180 from what you see at school; he walked around with confidence seeping from every pore and right now all confidence disappeared.

“I don’t think there’s any bandage that’s big enough for this.” You moved around some of the objects inside of the first aid kit. “I’ll just patch it up with some gauze okay?” Taehyung weakly nodded his head, still not looking at his knee. In less than five minutes, you had his knee all patched up and ready to go.

“There you go. Just don’t forget to remove the gauze and clean your cut later.” You stood up, trying to not fall over from being crouched over for so long.

Taehyung nodded and when you returned from the back room, he thanked you for coming to his aid. He limped over to where the ice cream was and pondered his choices before ultimately choosing chestnut praline in a medium sized cup.

“Did Jisoo mention anything about Seo Joon?” He asked.

You thought about a few days ago when Jisoo ranted about how she was over Seo Joon and that he wanted nothing to do with him, but you bit your tongue knowing this wasn’t any of your business.

“No, nothing new.” You handed Taehyung his ice cream over the casing.

“Well, if you don’t mind, could you tell her to lay down the line with Seo Joon please? I swear it feels like I talked to her way more than he did.”

You weren’t sure if Taehyung meant to say that outloud because this really wasn’t your business. He stabbed around his ice cream and hopped over to the counter seat. Ever since Jisoo mentioned it, you were curious yourself, so you took the chance to ask him.

“Why does he make you do it instead of doing it himself?”

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck and you began to regret asking in the first place.

“I don’t...really know why. He asks me to do it and I just do it, I guess.” He simply stated. The tone of his voice sounded hesitant, but you decided not to dwell on it.

You hummed and made sure to receive Taehyung’s payment for the ice cream. You also hoped that this was going to be the last time you were going to have a conversation with him.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Of course, your hopes were shot down in one blow.

Two days after your encounter with Taehyung, you were working during a mild heatwave. The parlour was busier than normal, but thankfully it was nothing chaotic.

You had just served Mrs. Song her second cup of ice cream and your manager blended you a chocolate banana milkshake, telling you to take a break. The excitement in your eyes was hard to contain as you untied your apron and sat one seat away from Mrs. Song.

She was invested in putting together the same fifty piece puzzle she brought with her every other week, so you scrolled through your phone letting her be.

“Hey.” Taehyung’s voice came from out of nowhere, startling you. “You’re off today?”

“Hi.” You squeaked. “Just on break.”

He set his phone and wallet down in front of the seat next to you and took a five dollar bill as he walked to the register.

Not even five minutes passed and Taehyung slid onto the seat and stuffed his wallet with whatever change he had in his hand. Just at quick glance, you could already tell he ordered another cup of chestnut praline ice cream. Without saying another word, he took a bite out of his dessert and he mindlessly stared at the menu of other items that were sold at the parlour.

You took another quick peek at Taehyung who had the front of his hair tied messily into a short ponytail on the top of his head. The tank top he wore was slightly damp on the backside and his shoulder glistened whenever the sun or the ceiling lights hit it at a certain angle. The weather outside was scorching and you were grateful for being in a closed air-conditioned space.

The milkshake you were drinking was already halfway through and you didn’t even realize it. You were too focused on whether or not you should talk to Taehyung. It still felt awkward for you to start a conversation with him because, to put it simply, you really didn’t know how.

Conversations with Taehyung only happened by chance and out of pure convenience, but this time you weren’t behind the counter to serve him ice cream and he wasn’t writhing in pain from some sort of injury.

Duh, ask about his knee.

“How’s your knee?” You asked shly. Talking to him was also not necessary, but you felt compelled to do so.

He looked down which made your head automatically tilt downward; a layer of what looked to be fresh gauze was wrapped around his right knee.

“I have to limp around because of the gauze but other than that, it’s alright.” He twisted his leg to showcase his bandaged injury. “Thanks again, by the way. My mom thought nearly fainted when I got home.” Taehyung laughed as he said that which gave you leeway to laugh as well.

“Why?”

“She thought I got into a fight during my cousin’s practice especially because of all the dirt on my clothes.” Taehyung laughed with his entire body, almost falling over. “She look mortified. So we went out to buy gauze that night.”

“Your mom sounds like my mom. My mom tends to overreact even when it’s slightest injury.” You smiled to yourself.

“I know what you mean. They’re a bit dramatic, but they mean well.” Taehyung mixed around his ice cream. “It also doesn’t help the fact that I’m an only child, so I’m always getting the lecture ‘Taehyung, you’re my one and only baby blah blah blah.’”

The look on Taehyung’s face looked rather relaxed than annoyed as he said those words. It was a bit scary how you could relate because again, you two were polar opposites. Although, honestly, it was comforting in a way.

“I feel you.” You sighed. “But Jisoo is basically treated like family in my house, so I share those lectures with her.”

Taehyung left the plastic spoon in his mouth for a brief moment before speaking. “It must be great Jisoo has that relationship with your family.” He hung his head as scooped up a small portion of his ice cream.

“But you have Seo Joon, Minho, and the rest of your friends.”

“I--I don’t really invite them over.” He explained quietly and your eyes widened.

“Why not?”

Before Taehyung could answer you, your manager called your name to take over the register because of a conference call he had to take. You purse your lips together and apologized to Taehyung for cutting your conversation short. He waved it off with a smile and continued to feast on his dessert.

As you returned to the register to take an order for a family of five, you side-eyed Taehyung who was leaned towards his right, whispering and smiling with Mrs. Song. Unfortunately, you were too busy focusing on punching in numbers to focus on what they were saying and with Mrs. Song’s memory and imagination, their conversation could’ve been about anything.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your next day off fell on the perfect day; the summer heat was bearable so you decided to get yourself a free refreshing milkshake from the ice cream parlour and read a book under a large tree at the park.

Music played through your earphones as you crossed the street with a chestnut praline milkshake in your hand. The summer dress you chose to wear was a peach color made up of a very light material to keep yourself cool; it was also your favorite clothing item.

The park wasn’t overly crowded which was perfect. There were some families having picnics, kids were running all over the playground, and there was a group of people off in the distance. Near the entrance was the most exquisite looking tree that provided the right amount of shade in all angles and you automatically gravitated towards it.

You packed a large blanket in your satchel and as well as a second blanket to cover your legs if you decided to lie down because even if you were wearing safety shorts, you knew better. The slightest breeze, a perfect tree, a milkshake, and a good book made up your day off and you couldn’t be any more happier.

After switching your position a thousand times, you decided to sit cross legged to keep your dress pinned down with your milkshake in between your thighs. You mindlessly played with the tassels that surrounded your blanket and continued to read your book.

The sudden drop of a heavy object next to you scared you out of your wits and the milkshake you secured almost spilt all over your blanket. Heart racing, you looked up to find Taehyung looking down at you with a boxy grin plastered on his face. A skateboard was the object that had dropped on the grass beside you and he then stripped himself of the flannel he was wearing to cover a spot on your blanket for himself to sit on.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” You sighed, placing a hand over your chest. “And you could have just sat on my blanket.”

Taehyung slid his shoes off to imitate your position and sit cross legged as well. “I’m probably covered in dirt. My cousin had practice down there and we decided to have another baseball match.” He moved his limbs around for you take a look at his skin. “No injuries, just dirt.”

“Good.” You smiled and tried to focus on your book, but Taehyung continued to distract you by ripping out the grass beside him. The one thing that didn’t sit right with you was how did Taehyung spot your from all the way on the other side of the park? And even if he was able to recognize you, why was he sitting with you?

“Is that book for school?” He asked, taking a peek at the cover.

“No, just for the joy of reading.” You closed the book realizing there was no way you could stay focused. “Is the little league still practicing?”

“They should be done right about now. The team is going to the community pool and my cousin is sleeping over a friend’s house after.” Taehyung explained. “I was about to leave and then I saw you sitting all the way over here--why are you all the way over here?”

You laughed and took a sip out of your milkshake. “It’s a nice tree to sit under, wouldn’t you agree?”

Taehyung stole the condensated cup out of your hand and proceeded to drag out a long sip of your drink making your jaw hang.

“Yeah, it’s a good spot.” He nonchalantly said before leaning back to lie down. “And that’s a really good drink. Since when could you turn chestnut praline into a milkshake?”

You clenched your fist to stop yourself striking his stomach. “It’s literally on the menu, Taehyung. ‘Turn your favorite flavor into a milkshake.’”

Not a single word was breathed out by Taehyung for about two minutes, which was odd. Maybe it was the right time to continue reading.

“You know,” Taehyung started.

Or maybe not.

“I don’t know why, but it sounded different when you said my name.”

“How?” You scrunch your eyebrows together because what he said made no sense. It was his name. Why would it sound any different? “Did you want me to call you something else?”

“No, no, y/n. ‘Taehyung’ is fine.”

Taehyung never mentioned anything else after that. He laid there with his eyes closed and you didn’t know when, but he fell asleep at some point. You glanced back and forth from your book to him just to check and make sure he was still sleeping. It was difficult to not be hung up over what he mentioned, but if he wasn’t going to expand more on his thoughts then maybe it wasn’t important.

You stayed at the park for almost an hour; you even finished your book. It was tempting to not wake up Taehyung because he looked too peaceful to disturb, but it had to be done. After shaking his leg a few times and quietly calling his name (you were now feeling self conscious about the way you said his name), Taehyung woke up in a hazy state.

Taehyung assisted you in folding up your blanket and before gesturing you to leave first, he said, “see you.”

No “see you tomorrow” or “see you next week” just a plain “see you.” When were you going to see him again? Who knows.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride, y/n?” Jisoo handed you a paper bag and you handed her a rootbeer float in return.

You had thirty minutes till 9 pm which meant thirty more minutes till you could finally lock up and go home. Since you worked a long shift, Jisoo agreed to pick up a book from a bookstore that you preordered.

“Yes, Jisoo. It’s a nice night. It’s perfect for walking.” Jisoo blew her bangs upwards, obviously concerned about you walking home so late. “All of the late-night restaurants on this block are still open and I have my emergency whistle.”

You were stubborn, of course, Jisoo knew that first hand. So, she reached over the counter to squish your cheeks together. “Okay, fine. But you better text me when you get home!”

“I-prom-ise.” It was your turn to reach over and squish Jisoo’s cheeks.

“Okay. I have to go.” She released your face and held yours hands instead. “If anything happens—“

“Call you, yes, mom.” You gently pushed her away and laughed. “Just go, Jisoo.”

As Jisoo stepped backwards, she pointed towards her eyes and then towards yours indicating I’m watching you. But she meant that in the most endearing way possible. She was the sister you’ve always wanted, but god knows your mom wouldn’t know how to properly handle the both of you. So being friends was the best thing the world could offer.

Right before Jisoo’s entire body left the entrance, she was speaking to someone at the door and you could already tell who it was in your peripherals; none other than Taehyung. He waved at Jisoo then turned on his heel to greet you. You weakly waved at him because you were too distracted by Jisoo flailing her arms and giving you a thumbs up before fully skipping out the door.

“Hey.” Taehyung handed you a five dollar bill and at this point you didn’t need to ask him about his order. “Are you closing?”

“Yeah. My manager had to leave early because his babysitter couldn’t stay long today.” You handed him his chestnut praline ice cream in a medium cup. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders and took a large bite of his ice cream. “It was a nice night, decided to go for a walk.”

“A walk?” You questioned. “To the ice cream parlour.”

“Not exactly. Just, you know, around. Then I saw Jisoo through the glass and then I saw you.”

His words were casual, but he was everything but. He stared at the menu, indenting crescent shaped marks into the peaks of his ice cream with his spoon. You were trying your hardest to not make the atmosphere weird between you two, but Taehyung was already way ahead of you.

Taehyung sat quietly at the counter as you wiped around the register until he offered to help you clean up the parlour after he scarfed down his ice cream. You protested, reminding him that you were the employee but he kept his hand out, waiting for some sort of cleaning instrument; it takes one to know one, so you knew he was going to be stubborn if you didn’t comply. You eventually handed him a broom and dustpan to sweep up dining area while you took care of the areas behind the register and back rooms.

Cleaning with Taehyung felt almost therapeutic because he turned played some piano jazz from his phone to keep a gentle ambience for cleaning. He cracked jokes here and there but majority of the time was spent tidying in comfort.

“I guess I have to pay you now for helping me.” You joked, getting ready to lock up.

“I’ll take half of my payment in the form of free ice cream tomorrow.” He said quickly.

“And the other half?”

Taehyung turned the open side around to read closed and pondered his options. “I get to walk you at least halfway to your house since it’s late and all.”

You had to admit, you were grateful that Taehyung offered to walk you only half way because you didn’t feel comfortable revealing your home to him just yet. You were also convinced that Jisoo probably put him up to it since they spoke a little at the door, but when you brought it up to Taehyung, he denied the assumption.

“Hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, but only halfway.”

Taehyung trotted down the sidewalk beside you with his arms gently swaying at his sides. All the street lights were all working properly and just as you told Jisoo, the restaurants and pubs along the walkways were also quite lively; this made the walk a little less awkward.

But talking won’t hurt either.

“Did Seo Joon talk to Jisoo yet? Because she hasn’t mentioned him lately.” You asked.

“I honestly don’t know. He hasn’t said anything about her either.” Taehyung kicked a rock off the curb. “In my opinion, I think he’s wasting his time.”

You threw your hands up in the air in relief. “Exactly! Jisoo and I say that all the time. We don’t know why he’s always making you guys constantly ask Jisoo to give him another chance when she said no many times.”

“Yeah. No means no.”

A cyclist with a headlight was approaching ahead of you and on instinct, Taehyung tugged you by the hand to make more room for the man to pass through. As he biked past, he quickly yelped out a thank you and sped off into the night.

“At least he had the decency to say thank you.” Taehyung whispered.

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to stifle the stutter in your voice as you wriggled your hand out of Taehyung’s.

He could have easily grabbed your forearm or even simply tell you to move to the side. Instead, he boldly took your hand into his and even held onto it for about five more seconds after the cyclist biked past.

For the rest of the way, you two remained silent only increasing the awkward tension. Even after thanking him and saying bye, you couldn’t stop think about holding his hand. It was annoying because you had no reason to be thinking about it this hard. It annoyed you so much to the point you called Jisoo as soon as you got him because god, you felt like you were going crazy.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised, y/n. When I asked what he was doing at the parlour he said he wanted to see you.”

You quickly sat up on your bed and practically yelled, “really?! But why?!”

“Who knows and I don’t mean to offend you in any way, I promise but, isn’t that kind of weird?”

“No, I know what you mean.” You scratched your head and fell back against your pillows. You obviously didn’t know Taehyung as long as Jisoo had, but you never saw him flirt much with other or even just hang around with other people besides his crew.

“If he’s trying to flirt with you, he’s doing a bad job.”

“Jisoo!”

Jisoo laughed in your ear. “I’m kidding, y/n. But honestly, Taehyung is nothing like Seo Joon’s dumbass, but just be careful.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Maybe talking to Jisoo was a bad idea. The whole day at work you couldn’t stop thinking about holding hands with Taehyung and hearing her words be careful. She was just being protective of course and you weren’t going to stand there and lie to yourself and say that Taehyung isn’t a good guy. You only thought that way in the beginning because he hung around Seo Joon, but so far, Taehyung has been nothing but nice to you. But Jisoo was right, you had to be careful.

You drummed your fingers against the countertop. There had been multiple moments where you zoned out because of your own thinking. It had to stop.

“Hi, y/n.”

But how could it stop when you owed Taehyung free ice cream.

“Hey, Taehyung. Your ice cream is ready and waiting.”

He sat patiently at the counter and you caught him smiling at you while scooping the ice cream into a cup.

“Are you closing again today?”

You looked at the clock behind you.

2:32 PM

“No, I opened, so I’m getting off at five.”

Taehyung mouthed the word five and took a large bite out of his ice cream. He sat in silence while you cared for other customers that came in. He even smiled and waved at one of the toddlers who shyly hid behind her father’s leg. Taehyung cooed for her to give him a high five and after making some embarrassing faces, she emerged from her hideout and skipped over to give Taehyung a high five.

You couldn’t help but smile. Taehyung outside of school was a whole new person. He seemed more independent and gentle rather than the rowdy demeanor he gives off at school.

Why was someone like Taehyung hanging around a jerk like Seo Joon? Seo Joon had an inflated ego and believed he could have anything he wanted. Taehyung, on the other hand, was the complete opposite--although, you couldn’t say much because you never spent a significant amount of time with him.

God, y/n. It’s sounding like you want to spend more time with him.

“Are you busy after work, y/n?” Taehyung wiped his mouth with a napkin and inched closer to the register.

You gave it some thought. “No…? No, I don’t think I am. Why?”

“Well…” He started off quietly. “The little league is having a late practice and I was wondering if you wanted to come by and watch.”

Just when you were thinking about spending time with Taehyung, the universe read your mind. It was a very tempting offer and this would give you a chance to get to know him better--in a friendly way of course. So, you happily accepted and he gave you instructions to where he would be at the park for you to find him.

“I’ll see you later then, y/n.” Taehyung discarded his trash and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah.” You breathed. “Bye Taehyung.”

As Taehyung started to walk out the door, he looked back to wave and the smile he wore looked genuine, making you smile unknowingly.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

The next few hours flew by in a blink of an eye. One second you were refilling the sugar cone stack and next you were walking out of the parlour with two chestnut praline milkshakes in each hand. The milkshakes were a last minute idea, plus a ziploc bag of snacks in your satchel.

The dim rays of the sun hit your skin, but it wasn’t as hot as noon time. You passed through area of the park where most families were stationed--near the playground and bathrooms. Just beyond that was an open area where you spotted the dugout and playing field.

The closer you got, the sight of children running around with their baseball gloves and their parents watching from the side. You walked around the large diamond, past the dugout and found Taehyung sitting cross legged on the lush grass. He was cheering on the team and in the midst of that, your presence caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey!” He called out with a boxy grin.

“Hi.” You waddled over and handed him his milkshake before sitting beside him.

“Thank you, but you really didn’t need to.” Even if he said that, he excitedly took a long sip out of his refreshment.

“It’s still warm out so I thought this would help while we watch--oh! I also packed some cookies.” You pulled out one of the ziplocs filled with a mixture of oreos, chocolate chip, and shortbread cookies. “We crush them for toppings.”

Taehyung smiled gratefully and proceeded to pull out an oreo. He then pointed out his cousin and explained their current game plan. You had little to no knowledge about baseball and Taehyung patiently answered your questions to the best of his abilities.

“Wow. So did you play baseball too?” You asked.

“No. I actually didn’t play much sports. I just learned from my cousin’s dad because he coached a little league team on the side before his firm skyrocketed.” Taehyung told you stories about his childhood and how he was intrigued with baseball despite never being on a team. He laughed while telling you that the reason why he never joined his uncle’s little league team was because his mom didn’t want him to get hurt.

“And apparently she still carried on the same ethic as you went onto high school.” You joked.

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Taehyung let out a deep chuckle. “How about you? Any sports?”

You scrunch your nose and shook your head. “I was, and still am, a bookworm.”

The parents and other spectators began to cheer and on an instinct, you and Taehyung did the same even if you two had no idea what was going on with the game. After the cheering died down, Taehyung smoothly continued the conversation.

“What kind of books do you like to read?”

“I like young adult fiction and psychological thrillers.” You answered shyly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows and popped a shortbread cookie into his mouth. “I would have never guessed that you liked to read psychological thrillers.”

“Do I look that much of a goody two shoes?”

“N-No, of course not. It’s just that...uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to fish for words that wouldn’t offend you.

“I’m kidding, Taehyung.” You snickered. “I know I don’t look like it, I own a lot of psychological thriller books. It’s unbelievably captivating. ”

“Well, maybe you could recommend a book for me. I don’t read much and you seem to know what’s good.”

Naturally, your eyes lit up. Jisoo didn’t prefer psychological thrillers because she got nightmares easily and your other friends weren’t as much as a bookworm as you were. “Yeah, of course. I’d probably have to look through my selection to find something that’s not too scarring for you to start with.”

Taehyung settled his his milkshake in between his legs and fiddled with his fingers. He stared up into the cotton candy sky for a brief moment. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, exchange numbers so you could let me know when you found a book?”

You weren’t going to sit there and lie to yourself and say that his request didn’t make your heart skip a beat. Things weren’t being rushed, right? It was just his phone number. It’s not like he was asking you out on a date on the spot.

“Sure, yeah.” You gave him your number and within seconds, you received a text that contained a string of book emojis. “I guess I’ll start looking through my bookcase when I get home later.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

After that early evening at the park, you and Taehyung texted almost everyday. He still came by to visit you at the ice cream parlour. Most days he came with his cousin and his cousin’s friends and other days, he came by on his own. Whenever he visited when you worked the closing shift, he always walked you halfway home; it sort of became a ritual.

This type of connection with a boy didn’t always come by, so it was something you gladly and cautiously shared with Jisoo. You expected her to be hesitant about the whole thing, but she was completely on board the ship. She was still reminding you to keep yourself guarded, but she promised to be supportive no matter what was going to happen between you and Taehyung.

You lended Taehyung three of your books since then and after he completed a book, he would rant to you about the plot, certain characters he disliked, and he even told you that he was a slightly paranoid for two nights; you did warn him about that.

The air was oddly cooler that evening which made it a pleasant walk home. Your dad was picking out a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge in the dining while you were splayed lazily on your sofa, returning texts from Jisoo, Taehyung, and your dad--as a joke.

“How was work, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Kind of slow, but I got to try out some flavours that the parlour is going sell during the fall.” You flipped over onto your side and scanned his bottle choice. “Why don’t you go with chardonnay? It’s mom’s favorite and she’s been working long hours this whole week?”

Your dad stared at the bottle of cabernet and nodded his head. “You know, your knowledge about wine is concerning.”

“You and mom are wine drinkers, of course I would know.” You laughed.

Jokes were exchanged between you and your dad while the smell of garlic and basil floated throughout the room. You were having a great time teasing your dad that you almost didn’t noticed your phone vibrating on the sofa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, are you busy?”

“No, no, Taehyung.  I’m just at home. What’s up?”

Taehyung never called you, so this was a curveball.

“I’m actually going to sleepover my cousin’s house tonight and tomorrow, so I wanted to return your book and borrow the next one before I head over there; just so I can have something to do to pass the time while I’m there.”

“I--uh,” You glanced at your father who was mixing what looked to be like a pasta salad. “Yeah, you can stop by. I’ll text you my address and just let me know when you’re here.”

This would be the first time Taehyung would be anywhere near your house. He always walked you halfway, never two-thirds or three-fourths of the way. You were nervous, probably for no reason since he was only dropping off a book.

Ten minutes, you received a here text that was accompanied by a smiley emoji. You already informed your dad, so you skipped outside to find Taehyung standing awkwardly next to your mailbox.

“Hey, did you walk all the way here?”

“Nah, skateboard.” Taehyung moved to the side the reveal his skateboard that was planted on the patch of grass surrounding your mailbox. “Here you go.”

Taehyung handed you the novel in exchange for the next book.

“So, how’d you like it?”

Taehyung blew out a breath and shook his head. “That...was quite the read. I wasn’t expecting her to be the cult leader’s daughter like what?!” He expressed his shock by flinging his hands out in front of him. “And that chase? I was clenching my ass cheeks reading that part.”

You laughed, recalling how your entire body seized up reading that exact same scene. “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. I finished this novel in one day.”

“Damn.” He breathed. “How about this one--The Dead House? How is it?”

“I guess you’re going to have to read it to find out yourself.” You smiled slyly at him and he scoffed with a similar smile.

The sound of a car pulling in caught both of your attentions. Your mother waved at you through the windshield and exited the car. On the inside, you were desperately praying hard for your mom to not embarrass you in any way.

“Hi honey.” She slipped a swift kiss to your cheek and stuck her hand out towards Taehyung. “And you must be Taehyung. Y/n tells me that she’s been recommending you books.”

Taehyung nervously wiped his hand at the bottom of his shirt before making contact with your mother’s. “Y-Yes, ma’am. That’s me, I’m that Taehyung.”

Your mom smiled sweetly at him and then turned to face you. “Well honey, why don’t we have Taehyung for dinner? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

Your jaw hung open and you exchanged glances between your mom and Taehyung. You shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head towards him. “Are you busy?”

He also shared anxious glances towards you and your mom before answering. “No, n-no. I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Anxiety built up as you watched Taehyung shake hands with your dad. They knew he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the only reason they were this excited was because you haven’t had a single guy come over for dinner since your freshman year. There were fifteen minutes left on the oven, so your mom, being as sweet as she was, instructed you to show Taehyung your bookcases.

“Wow.”

Taehyung scanned the walls of your room that were splattered with a pale yellow and white paint that were designed in vertical stripes. The floors of your room were a mahogany wood that was consistent with your entire house and in the middle of your room was a pearl white coffee table sitting on top of a large dark gray circular rug.  There were two bean bag chairs surrounding the table and small stack of magazines on top.

Beside your desk in the corner of your room were two large off-white bookcases; it looked as if you were almost in desperate need of a third one. He tiptoed over and gently ran his finger over a couple of the spines of a row of books.

“I never pictured your room to be like this.” Taehyung commented.

“And how did you picture it?” You sunk down onto one of the bean bag chairs and he followed in suit.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Bigger? And maybe...light purple?”

You threw your head back and laughed. “I like things comfy and cozy. When we first moved here, my parents wanted me to take the office room down the hall, but apparently I threw a tantrum because this was the room I wanted.”

“You threw a tantrum? Now that is something I have to witness.”

“No, no it’s not.”

For the next fifteen minutes, you answered Taehyung’s questions about your room and even shared stories from your childhood when you first moved in. He learned that you’ve lived in this house your entire life, but only started attending your current high school at the beginning of freshman year because your dad switched office locations.

“Do you miss your old friends?” He asked quietly.

“I do, but I mean, we still talk frequently so it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.” You explained. “And plus, I’ve made amazing friends at our school.”

Taehyung flashed you the shyest smile before hiding it behind the back of his hand. Your statement was meant for your girlfriends, but Taehyung was silently woven into it too. You had to admit, he was a great friend. Ever since you started texting him almost everyday, talking to him was so much easier; conversations weren’t forced anymore and you breathed fine around him.

Your dad called you two from the door and apologized for not asking Taehyung if he was vegetarian at the beginning. Of course, you knew he wasn’t.

The menu was baked chicken with rice and mixed vegetables. There was also a bowl of pasta salad which Taehyung become quite fond of; your dad ended up packing a small serving of the pasta to take home with him. To add on the constant generous gestures, he even offered to drive Taehyung home since the sun had gone down, but Taehyung politely declined, stating that his home was just a ten minute skateboard ride away.

“Your parents are great.” Taehyung walked down the driveway after shaking your parents’ hands and thanking them for dinner.

“They’re just being that way because you’re here.” You giggled and handed him the styrofoam bowl of pasta you held for him.

Taehyung sighed into the night sky and ruffled his hair. “Tonight was one of the best nights I had in awhile. Thanks again for having me.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’m glad you had a nice time.”

He placed his skateboard on the sidewalk and took a step forward towards you. He extended his arms outward and enveloped you in a hug which caught you completely off guard. Although, the slightest hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his torso and heard his deep laughter vibrate near your ear.

“I’ll see you later then.” Taehyung whispered, slowly letting you go.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

It was difficult for you to function for the next few days all because Taehyung gave you a hug. This wasn’t fair. How were you supposed to focus on your books and your job if you were so preoccupied with a measly hug.

Jisoo was ecstatic about the idea. She teased you about it because it had been way too long since you’ve been worked up over a guy. You almost didn’t tell her because you knew how she would react, but Jisoo was your best friend so you had to tell her.

The parlour was just starting to die down and you were listening to Mrs. Song passionately talk about her late husband and how he always brought home at least one kind of flower whenever he came home from work. Her caretaker probably heard these stories over a hundred times, but she listened and smiled as if it were her first time hearing it.

“He sounds like a great man, Mrs. Song.” You said with the brightest smile.

“Oh, deary! He was an amazing man. Find yourself a gentleman who is never afraid to show you off and show how much he cares for you.” As Mrs. Song said that, she reached over to grasp onto your hands.

“Of course, ma’am. I will.” You squeezed tightly onto her frail hands and felt your chest cave it. Meeting Mrs. Song was one of the greatest things to ever happen in your life.

Mrs. Song’s caretaker tidied up the ice cream cups and newspaper that she brought which indicated that it was time for them to head back home. They both waved you goodbye and Mrs. Song took small steps with her walker towards the door.

Just on time, you spotted Taehyung through the glass and he rushed to the entrance door to open the door for Mrs. Song. She held onto Taehyung’s hand and they exchanged a few words which were too hushed to hear from where you were. But as they were departing, Taehyung caught you staring and shot you a smile before you shyly turned away.

“You know,” Taehyung began. “Staring is rude.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and provided him with his usual order. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, can I order tubs of ice cream in advance?” Taehyung asked.

“Uh, yeah. But only in these flavours.” You rummaged through some papers that were stashed inside a compartment.

He plucked the paper out of your hands and read through the list. “I’ll take a gallon of rocky road, neapolitan, and--sucks there’s no chestnut praline.” You both chuckled and Taehyung continued to stare at the list. “And a gallon of vanilla.”

You punched in numbers into the register and Taehyung already had his card out waiting to pay.

“Having a party?” You questioned and ripped out the receipt. “Just bring this receipt whenever you come in to grab the ice cream.”

“The little league is having a celebration on Thursday because gameday is on Wednesday and the coach said win or lose, they’re going to celebrate no matter what.” He folded up the receipt and slipped it into his wallet. “My cousin begged me to order ice cream from here.”

If the two of you didn’t start texting, maybe you two wouldn’t be making jokes and having easy conversations at the moment. Taehyung had such a lovely personality hidden beneath his bad boy persona and it bothered you that he didn’t act this way in school. Would Seo Joon not want to be his friend anymore? Because that’s what high school was--a hotspot for teenagers to do whatever they could to fit in and find friends. Thankfully Jisoo’s eldest sister gave the two of you a talk about being never turning yourself into someone you’re not just to make people like you.

If only Taehyung got the same talk.

“Hey, the summer night festival is next week friday, are you going?” He asked you softly.

The summer night festival was a one night community shindig that was held the last friday before all the kids went back to school on the Monday of the following week. It had been a tradition for as long as you could remember and your family never missed the event.

“I totally forgot about that, but yeah I am. I go every year with my parents.”

Taehyung nodded his head and fidgeted with his hands. “Well, if your parents don’t mind, could I steal you at some point during the festival?”

Like a date?

The words in your head made you stop breathing for a few seconds and you were hoping your cheeks weren’t reflecting how hot they were feeling.

“I--uh--” Taehyung chuckled at the flustered look you had on your face. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind you stealing me, but they would probably mind if you didn’t say hello.”

“I promise I’ll say hi to your parents.” Taehyung stood up and tucked his hair back underneath his hat. “I’ll see you then.”

Out of nowhere, Taehyung slid his hand against the counter and curled his fingers around your own. He gave you a light squeeze and proceeded to walk out of the parlour.

You tried your hardest to suppress your smile at the simple touch of his fingers. It wasn’t just the touch of his fingers that sparked your smile. It could easily be a text message, seeing him enter the ice cream parlour, or sharing eye contact with you. He made you laugh easily with stories he tells and even his laugh alone was contagious. You had difficulty in controlling the butterflies inside of you every time you saw him, but granted, you were doing a fairly good job at doing so.

It was terrifying and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you liked Taehyung. You really did.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Thanks for bringing me along, mom and dad. I wish my parents didn’t have to finish late tonight.” Jisoo had her arm linked around yours as the four of you trotted down the pavement into the town.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just don’t forget to bring your dad some of the grilled corn this time.” Your father reached out to gently tug on a lock of Jisoo’s hair.

You had already told Jisoo about meeting with Taehyung so she wouldn’t think you’re going to ditch her out of nowhere. She, without a doubt, understood and made you promise to call her if anything went wrong. You were expecting that kind of response. It was Jisoo.

The festival had already begun. Children were walking around with their parents holding sticks of cotton candy and a balloon animal in the other. Teenagers were swarming around some of the games to win large stuffed animals for their significant others and there was also a dunking booth that the teachers from the different high school were running. The intoxicating smell of food filled the air and you could already taste the chocolate funnel cake in your mouth. After promising your parents that you would link up with them soon, Jisoo dragged you to the deep fried twinkies booth.

For the next two hours, time was spent with Jisoo eating and trying to not spend a lot of money on games you had zero skills in. Jisoo walked back to the bench you two were sitting on with two cups of iced sweet tea.

“Did Taehyung call you yet?” She asked excitedly.

“Not yet--why are you so excited about this?” You laughed and snatched your drink away from her.

“Because this is exciting! You don’t agree? But anyway, he’s probably not even here yet. I saw Seo Joon and his boys when I was in line, but I didn’t see Taehyung with them.”

On an impulse, a sigh escaped your mouth. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t stand you up or at least you hope he didn’t.

“Did Seo Joon see you?” You asked.

“No, thank you god. I haven’t heard from him in a while so I guess I owe Taehyung one--speaking of the devil.” Jisoo pointed towards your phone that had Taehyung’s name displayed across the screen. She nudged you to answer and you hated how nervous you were feeling.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, I couldn’t leave my house until my dad got home. Where are you?”

You looked around the crowd to see if you could find him before he found you. “I’m sitting with Jisoo near the sweet tea and peach cobbler booths. I’m wearing a red shirt.”

“Red shirt...peach cobbler… I can’t see--oh, there!”

You whipped your head around and Jisoo did the same. Taehyung flailed around in his white graphic t-shirt and scurried along with sidewalk with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Hi, hey, Jisoo.” Taehyung greeted while taking deep breaths.

“Hi, Taehyung.” Jisoo returned the greeting and stood up. “Before I go and link up with your parents y/n--thanks Tae for whatever you did to get Seo Joon off my back. It has made my summer a lot more relaxing.”

Taehyung cocked his head and smiled. “I, uh, I don’t really know what I did either, but you’re welcome. Maybe he just got tired of chasing? But whatever happened, it’s good to know that he’s out of your hair.”

They exchanged a few more words and you smiled at the both of them. It was comforting to know that Jisoo was able to get along with Taehyung at the moment. You remembered when you first encountered Taehyung in close proximity, Jisoo was barely communicating with Taehyung and when she did speak to him, she spoke to him in a cold manner. Now, Jisoo was laughing and making direct eye contact with the same guy.

“Geez, y/n.” Jisoo squished your cheeks together. “If I have something on my face, just say it.”

“You seriously have a bad habit in staring.” Taehyung added in.

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“Okay, okay. Don’t gang up on me.” You playfully swatted Jisoo’s hands away and jabbed a finger at each of their legs. “But, we’ll accompany you to wherever my parents are. Taehyung is going to say hi to them.”

After a few calls, your mom finally picked up and directed you three to some sort of game booth where your dad was struggling to win at least one game. Your parents exchanged greetings as soon as your dad landed a win. They briefly spoke, asking if Taehyung’s parents were around the festival too and if he had eaten.

“My parents weren’t able to come tonight and not yet, sir. I was going to buy something for y/n and I.” Taehyung was obviously still nervous around your parents, especially your dad, but it was only natural.

“Well, you two have fun. I’ll call you if we decide to leave early and don’t forget that Jisoo is here too.” Your mom squeezed Taehyung’s shoulder and Jisoo pushed you to stand next to him.

“Okay mom and yes, I won’t forget about Jisoo.” You waved goodbye with a rapid beating heart. This wasn’t your first time spending alone time with Taehyung, but this was the first time you were going to be alone with him knowing that you admitted to yourself that you like him.

Everything was going to be fine as long as you acted normal around him. This meant no stuttering and no over-selling your normality. But could you really pull this off?

“You alright?” Taehyung poked your side, making you flinch.

“Y-Yeah. I’m all good.” You answered fairly quickly.

Of course, you couldn’t pull this off.

“By the way, are you sure you just want breadsticks? The pizza here is top notch.” Taehyung swept your behavior under the rug which you were grateful for.

“Yeah, Jisoo and I ate a little too much desserts. I swear that girl can eat desserts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Taehyung stepped to side to swiftly retrieve his order and you were able to catch a whiff of his cologne or body wash or something; it was an earthy citrusy scent that tickled your nose. After returning to you, he helped guide you through the crowd with a careful hand on your lower back making sure not to lose amongst the sea of people.

“If only the ice cream parlour was open. I could go for a milkshake.” He commented.

“Yeah, we closed early because of the festival, sorry.” You looked around the area. “They have rainbow lemonade? That sounds interesting, I mean, it’s no milkshake but still.”

You offered to make the purchase for the both of you but Taehyung constantly pushed you to let him pay for the drinks. Ultimately, he took the win for that.

The festival was still at its peak, so there were still large amounts of crowds which made it difficult to canvass the nearby spots for a bench. The park lights were still on, so Taehyung made the executive decision to park yourselves there to eat. It wasn’t as hot as most nights which made sitting at one of the picnic tables under a lampost more enjoyable.

The garlic and basil breadsticks Taehyung ordered for you were scrumptious and he even let you have the first bite of his pizza  to show you what you were missing out on. He told you about how he meant to be at the festival earlier, but his mom was still at work and his dad wanted him to wait for him so someone could be at home to watch their dog.

“Aw, you have a dog?” Your eyes lit up and you clasped your hands together.

“Yeah, our neighbor’s dog gave birth recently so he’s still a puppy.” Taehyung showed you his lock screen to present an adorable ball of fluff with the largest grin on its face. “His name is Yeontan.”

You squealed and stole his phone out of his hands. “He is the cutest! I’d give him the world if I could.”

“I wanted to bring him out for you to meet him, but we have yet to finish up his shots.” He explained, smiling at you.

“Maybe next time?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He took his phone back and stared at his lockscreen for a few seconds. “Or you could come over some time? Just so Tannie doesn’t have to leave my house.”

“I’d…” You started. “I’d love that.”

Going over to Taehyung’s house would mean that there was a chance you would meet his parents. It made you wonder if Taehyung talked about you just like how you talked about him around your family. You thought you were a genuinely good person and you haven’t done anything to hurt Taehyung at some point for him to say anything that could tarnish his parent’s first impression about you.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“By any chance, does your parents know about me?” You cautiously asked.

Taehyung smiled bashfully and nodded his head. “My mom was pleased to know that you’re a reader and you were the one who helped me get patched up that one time. Thanks again, y/n.”

“It’s no problem. I’m pretty sure your mom would’ve had a meltdown if you went home without any bandages whatsoever.” You laughed, thinking about the times Taehyung would shake his head yet speak about his mom endearingly.

“That’s definitely true.” He agreed. “My parents are dying to meet you though, so maybe on your next day off or when you finish early, you could stop by.”

“It’s a date.”

Both of your eyes widened and you choked on your saliva realizing there was no way you could save yourself from that one. The words came out automatically and you were already used to saying it towards Jisoo and your other girlfriends, but with your feelings towards Taehyung, this time was different. You couldn’t help but think that you screwed everything up at that moment because you couldn’t distinguish the look Taehyung had on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or disgusted.

“Y-Yeah,” Taehyung mumbled, trying to hide his face behind his hand. “It’s--It’s a date.”

It felt as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. You tried to justify everything by telling yourself that he was jokingly agreeing with you, but on the inside, you were praying that he meant it the same way you did.

A brief moment of awkward silence washed on shore and it almost sealed the deal in making you think that you really did screw up big time. Taehyung cut the silence in half by clearing his throat and then scooting closer to you.

“You know, y/n,” Taehyung gulped loudly and planted his elbow on top of the table, resting his cheek on his palm to look at you. “I never imagined myself spending the summer reading and constantly visiting the ice cream parlour.”

“I never expected to be working at all this summer. My mom was the mastermind behind my employment.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad she encouraged you to work.” Taehyung held his gaze with you. “I got to meet you.”

How could Taehyung look at you the way he was at the moment and say I got to meet you. Your face was probably beet red and you couldn’t control your smile at that point. There was a lot you wanted to say to him like I love hanging out with you and something corny like we should go thank my mom then. But you stared at him, with your words stuck in your throat and a stupid smile plastered on your face.

“I spent a lot of money on ice cream, but it was worth it.” Taehyung continued with his words, making your heart rate spiral out of control.

“You’ve become a loyal customer.” You joked, making a deep sound of laughter bubble from his throat.

“Yeah, yeah I have.” He said in between laughs. “You’re to blame though.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“No , no, you did a lot, y/n. Trust me.”

“And what exactly have I done, Taehyung?” You asked with a mischievous tone of voice.

Taehyung moved a couple of inches closer to you and you remained still. “First of all, you patched up my wounds. You introduced me to a new flavour of ice cream, you let me borrow your books which blossomed a new interest of mine.” You listened intently as Taehyung’s eyes grew softer. “You made me smile and laugh until my stomach hurt. You also understood my weird family dynamics. I feel less lonely and a lot happier nowadays and you’re to blame, y/n.”

Each word that fell from Taehyung’s lips turned you closer and closer into mush. You were denying the obvious which was mutual feelings because your worlds were similar yet different. There was no way someone like Taehyung could ever feel an ounce of anything towards you. This was usual assumption until you got to know him personally and see what kind of boy he really was. However, naturally, you were still in denial.

“You do know what I’m saying, right?” Taehyung asked and you just slightly parted your lips, scared to say what your heart was pushing you to say. “I’m saying… I like you, y/n. I really like you.”

The oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your chest. Out of all the things Taehyung could have said, you would would choose for him to say those words again and again. Your hands felt clammy and the rapid sound of your heartbeat was deafening in your ears.

“I just ruined things, didn’t I?” Taehyung snapped you back into reality and you noticed that he scooted a few inches away from you.

You frantically shook your head thinking that your silence ruined things. “No, Taehyung. S-Sorry, I’m just surprised that’s all.”

He nodded and blew out a shaky breath. Judging by the look on his face, Taehyung seemed as nervous as you were and you knew what you had to do to ease the tension.

“I...like you too, Taehyung.” You replied softly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. He then poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, exerting a breath of air. “R-Really? Are you sure?”

You laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sure you dummy. I’m awkward around a lot of people, especially boys, but not with you.” It was Taehyung’s turn to listen with his undivided attention. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately a-and you don’t even know how excited I get when I see you walk through the doors of the parlour or when you text me. My parents like you, it seems like Jisoo is becoming quite fond of you, and it’s so scary because  I don’t even think I’m your type so I hope you understand why I’m so shocked. I’m too quiet, I talk to myself sometimes--”

“Y/n.” Taehyung blurted your name out with a chuckle. “Just breathe for a second, okay? I don’t have a type. I don’t care if you talk to yourself or if you think you’re too quiet or whatever else you were going to say. I like you and that’s that.”

Taehyung cautiously cupped the back of your hand with his and looked at you as if you painted the stars in the sky with your own two hands. It was an odd feeling to have him look at you the way he did and yet, it was a reassuring feeling to know that he felt the same as you did.

The stars you apparently painted with your own hands were aligned perfectly. You twisted your hand around to have his palm up against yours until he eventually laced his fingers in between yours. Taehyung giggled softly as he gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

Out of all the events that happened throughout the entirety of summer, this was easily one of your favorites.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Oh my god! So, how cute is his dog?” Jisoo squealed.

“Ten out of ten such a good doggo and soooo adorable!” You showcased the photos you took on your phone. There was a large section of your gallery of Yeontan in multiple angles, some were blurry from him moving around too much,  and some had you and Taehyung in the photos. Jisoo gushed over the cutest little ball of sunshine and constantly made remarks about how lucky you were to have met Taehyung’s dog.

“You’re so lucky, y/n. Taehyung is sane and has the cutest dog son in the world. I wish my parents allowed me to have a pet other than a fish.” Jisoo said as she pulled into a parking stall at school. “Remind me to get a new parking pass after school.”

You two arrived at school forty-five minutes before the first tardy bell would ring and this was for the sake of student parking. With a lot of the current seniors taking their driver’s test over the summer, it was most likely the parking lot was going to fill up rather quickly.

Before heading onto campus, you both just sat in Jisoo’s car listening to music and chatting about how exciting senior year was going to be for the both of you. Senior year meant college campus tours, college fairs, senior getaway and prom. Not only was there going to be a lot of stress involved, you made a promise to yourself to not be as stressed as you were during junior year.

“I can’t believe we’re seniors, y/n.” Jisoo sighed. “And if you’re going to senior prom with Taehyung who the hell am I going to take couple pictures with?!”

“Whoa, whoa, stop right there, Kim Jisoo. I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.” You patted her hand.

Jisoo laughed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever, but the boy likes you. Before you know it, he’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend in the most cheesiest way possible!”

The idea of Taehyung doing that was adorable yet embarrassing and plus, Taehyung knew that you didn’t like show-offy events like it; the thought of it made you feel uncomfortable.

“You’re crazy.” You laughed. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up, Jisoo. It’s a new school year. It’s possible for Taehyung to meet somebody new in his classes and I can’t force him to just stick with him.”

Jisoo squinted her eyes at you and folded her arms across her chest. “God, I hate it when you’re right.” She reached for her backpack and turned off her car engine. “Well, enjoy what you have now, y/n and let me enjoy teasing you about Taehyung.”

She stuck her hand out and you laughed while shaking it. “Deal.”

Throughout the whole morning, Taehyung only texted you a good morning message and you were thinking he probably fell back asleep right after. You asked him if he had eaten breakfast yet in your reply and by the time you left your house, he still didn’t respond. Honestly, you wanted to ask him if he wanted to meet someone on school grounds, but it felt like it was too much of a gesture; maybe it was all in your head--the feeling of it being too much.

You stuck with Jisoo for majority of the time. She planned on taking you around the bleachers where Seo Joon and his crew hang out during lunch, but a lot of the new clubs were having welcome booths and the literary club was calling your names.

“Come on, y/n!” Jisoo gently tugged on your hand, heading towards the football field and bleachers.

It was ten minutes after the final bell rang and you told Jisoo about Taehyung only texting you once throughout the day and she found it suspicious. She continued to nag you to check if he was on campus, but you wanted to just leave it alone. It was probably your gut talking to you and as much as you knew you had to trust your gut feeling, you didn’t want to listen.

“Jisoo, I don’t know, I don’t…” Your voice trailed off and you stared at the tips of your shoes.

“Y/n.” Jisoo squeezed your hand and stared deep into your concerned eyes. “You know you have to. And because I love you, I’m going to go with you.”

At this point, you didn’t realize that your body was gravitating towards the football with Jisoo still holding tightly onto your hand. You didn’t want to look up from your feet and when you did, all oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your lungs.

Taehyung was sitting with the cluster of his friends at the bleachers, laughing and he even quickly checked his phone. There was a possibility that he was too caught up in catching up with his friends to text you another time or maybe he thought he replied to you but didn’t--it has happened a few times and he apologized when it happened. You were hoping for Jisoo to not say anything to get his attention, but Seo Joon called out before you could even tug her back towards the campus.

“Oh, hey, Jisoo.”

All at the same time, the group of friends turned towards you two and instantly, Taehyung’s eyes met yours. Jisoo continued to walk towards the bleachers not letting any of their stares bother her.

“We’re not here for you, Joon.” Jisoo snapped harshly at him and then stared down Taehyung. “Really, Taehyung?”

“Jisoo, stop.” You whispered.

All of Taehyung’s friends panned their heads from you and Jisoo to Taehyung. There was a look of panic on his face and already said everything that you needed to know. You wanted to run but your feet felt as if it was stapled to the ground. The air that was trapped inside of you was now released with one single blow.

“You’re friends with them?” Seo Joon questioned and first looked at Jisoo then back at you with a raised eyebrow.

You watched as Taehyung’s facial expression change from panic to sadness within seconds. “I--I don’t--” He stammered and slowly shrugged his shoulders.

Jisoo squeezed your hand tighter and she pointed an angry finger towards Taehyung. “Kim Taehyung, you fucking--”

“Jisoo, let’s go, please.” You interrupted Jisoo and hung your head down. You didn’t want to be there. You didn’t want to look at Taehyung. You just wanted to leave.

It took a lot for Jisoo to not cuss out Taehyung, you knew that. Instead, she complied with your request and took the lead in guiding you out of the football field and back to the parking lot. She didn’t say one more word and never let go of your hand the whole way there.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“THAT PIECE OF SHIT!” Jisoo threw her bag onto the concrete of your driveway. “Was he seriously going to stand there and look at you like you were a stranger?! Some fucking nerve he has!”

You sat on top of the hood of Jisoo’s car with your knees hugged to your chest. Thankfully, your parents were both still at work which meant you had the whole house to yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk inside.

“Maybe we’re taking this the wrong way, Jisoo.” You mumbled.  It was dumb to justify the look on Taehyung’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But that’s bullshit. You know that I know what Taehyung’s face looked like.” Jisoo raked her hand through her hair. “He obviously didn’t tell his friends about you and I hate that I know why.”

There was a stinging sensation in your eyes and you blinked it away. You also had a feeling why he wouldn’t tell his friends. It was your worst nightmare and it was all coming true. You buried your face between your knees and your chest, wanting to disappear.

“Hey, hey, not another step! Go away!”

You poked your head up and found Taehyung stuck dead in his tracks with Jisoo walking to stand by your side.

“Jisoo, just let me explain--”

“I don’t think so, Taehyung. We get it. She gets it.” It was sweet of Jisoo to stand up for you, but honestly, you wanted to hear it from Taehyung himself.

“It’s okay, Jisoo. I’ll be fine.” You whispered whilst climbing down from her car.

She changed her glances between you and Taehyung before sighing. “Okay. I’ll be in your room then,” She held her hand out and you planted your house keys onto her palm. “I won’t be nosy, I promise.”

After giving Taehyung a deadly gaze, Jisoo scooped up both of your backpacks and disappeared inside of your house.

Taehyung walked towards you with hesitation weighing in every step. The hurt in your eyes was obvious and it made looking at you hurt even more because he knew he was the reason for it.

“Y/n...I can explain…” Taehyung began taking deep breaths. “I didn’t tell them...about you…”

There were tears filling up your eyes and you tried to blink them away, but one single tear managed to trickle down your cheek.

“I didn’t tell them anything b-because…” Taehyung’s words fell like stones, dropping slower and slower. Your chest began to tighten and your cheeks started to flare up.

“Because you were embarrassed?! Is that why?” Your words shocked you just as much as it did for Taehyung but it was the reason that was blaring inside of your head the most and you had to put it out there. “I read books, I’m quiet, I’m obviously not the type of girl who would be seen with you.”

Taehyung let out a breath of air and tried to reach for your hand but you pulled away. “That’s not...that’s not the reason, y/n.”

You clenched your jaw and wiped the tears from your eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me, with confidence, that that’s not the reason why you didn’t tell them.”

He tilted his head back and combed his fingers through his hair. “Seo Joon mentioned once that he didn’t know how you and Jisoo became friends because you seemed different from her and--”

“And you didn’t want to tell him because you were afraid if you told him, he would make fun of you and tell you that you probably deserved better. Got it, Taehyung.”

“Y/n...Seo Joon is a fucking dick, okay? And he wouldn’t have let me live if he found out that I was involved with someone that he--he thought--” Taehyung watched as your tears resurfaced and he took in a sharp breath. “Y/n, I like you. You don’t know how much I fucking like you, isn’t that enough?”

There was a moment of silence before you answered. “You’ve been in my house and you met my parents. I know your little cousin and his friends, I met your parents and your puppy. Why is Seo Joon’s opinion so important to you, Taehyung?”

He grit his teeth and sighed. “I don’t know, y/n. But I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Me too.”

You wiped whatever tears were stained on your face then turned your heel to walk away. He called out your names and each time he called for you, tears welled and you covered your mouth to stifle your sobs. From your driveway to your front door, you never once looked back.

Was it wrong to think you didn’t deserve this? Every girl deserves someone who wasn’t afraid to be with them and this included you.

It almost didn’t occur to you that you arrived in your room until Jisoo said your name. You dragged your feet to your bed and slumped your body down against the mattress.

“It would...It would’ve been too embarrassing…” You sniffled. “...too embarrassing if Seo Joon knew…”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Jisoo immediately joined and curled up next to you, letting you bury your face into her shoulder to cry it all out. She stroked your hair, listening to you wail and question this had to happen to you.

Even with Jisoo in your room, you had never felt so alone.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Instead of quitting after summer, you decided to keep the job at the ice cream parlour because of the relationships you gained with your coworkers. Plus, when Jisoo told you that “more money meant more books,” it stuck with you.

The week stretched out a lot longer than you would’ve liked and as much as you wanted to relax on a Saturday, you were scheduled to work the afternoon shift. Even after sleeping in for a bit, you were feeling a bit groggy because your exhaustion caught up with you, but talking to Mrs. Song was making all exhaustion dissipate.

“School is just a mere distraction, deary. Marry a millionaire and you’ll be fine.” Mrs. Song instructed and her caregiver laughed and reminded her that you were still young and that you still had a lot to do in your life.

“Well, you do that, but don’t forget to marry a good man--have I told you about my late husband, sweetie?” Her caregiver smiled and winked at you.

“No, Mrs. Song. I’d love to know about him.” You smiled back at her and listened with your undivided attention. No matter how much times you’ve heard the stories, you would never get tired hearing how romantic her husband was with her. Even while you took care of other customers, she still talked about her life with him and you listened and asked questions so she knew that you were listening.

“So, he wasn’t a millionaire, Mrs. Song?--thank you, have a good day.” You handed a customer his change.

“Not at all, dear. But our time together was priceless.”

The entrance door opened and in came the last person you wanted to see, although it couldn’t be helped. When Taehyung walked in, his cousin and his friends came running in through the doors first and he followed with his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Song greeted him as you tended to the kids with a smile. The last time you spoke to Taehyung was on Monday. He tried to reach out to you, but you didn’t bother to return any of his calls or texts. He only ever contacted you through phone and never at school which gave you the idea that he didn’t tell his friends anything.

You wanted to disappear into the back room, but you were already assisting his cousin and his friends.

“Hi, y/n.” Taehyung greeted quietly.

You gave the last cup of ice cream to one of the kids who then ran over to Mrs. Song.

“Hi.” It was instinct the way you grabbed a fourth cup to fill it up with chestnut praline ice cream. How were you supposed to enjoy this flavour when it now gave you bittersweet memories of summer?

“Y/n, I know you’re mad at me and you don’t have to say anything, but at least just listen to me.” Taehyung followed you from the other side of the counter as you walked from the ice cream casing to the register. “I let my pride get in the way because I didn’t tell my friends about you. It’s always been that way with Seo Joon and it’s so fucking annoying how I can’t put my foot down when it comes to him. Saying that makes me sound like I’m his bitch and I guess I am.”

You plucked the ten dollar bill out of his hand and listened, just as he instructed.

“I haven’t told him...yet…which is stupid, I know. You’re important to me and I haven’t been feeling like myself lately all because we haven’t been talking at all. It’s killing me, y/n.” Taehyung spoke as softly as possible, just enough for only you to hear. “I still really like you and I swear I’ll tell Seo Joon because you’re right, his opinion shouldn’t matter.”

You took the change out of the register and you didn’t even realize it, but you blinked away tears that surfaced at your water line. Words were getting caught up within your throat, threatening to burst out all at once. But now wasn’t the right time.

You laid his change out on the palm of your hand and as Taehyung took his change, his finger lingered to trace the lines that veined throughout your palm. He hung his head and failed to hide the sound of him sniffling.

“I admit my mistake and I’m just so sorry, y/n. I hope for you to forgive me one day.” Taehyung crumpled up his change inside of his receipt and stuffed it into his pocket. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Taehyung.” Your words were barely audible, but he still heard you.

With a blank expression, Taehyung gathered up his pack of children and made sure to give Mrs. Song the most cheerful smile he could muster up.

Not even a couple of feet away from Mrs. Song, Taehyung’s cousin asked Taehyung to retie his shoe laces because they were beginning to become undone. You walked over to Mrs. Song who was gently folding her napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You know, dear,” she began. “How about you try your chances with that young man who came in with his little friends? He seems like a nice boy.”

There was no point in explaining everything to Mrs. Song, so you just hummed and smiled at her. “He is, Mrs. Song.”

Without looking up from the counter, you could see Taehyung stand back up and you could feel his eyes burning towards you.

“How about it then, deary? I’ll introduce you two.” Mrs. Song suggested with confidence.

It difficult to hold back your tears in front of the ever-so-innocent Mrs. Song, but you had to grit your teeth and bear it.

“It’s okay, ma’am. I don’t think he’s interested in me.” You said sadly.

As much as you didn’t want to look at him, you finally lifted your chin to make eye contact with the regretful stare of Taehyung’s eyes. The intense contact was broken by his cousin, shaking Taehyung’s hand and telling him that they wanted to go to the park already.

As he turned his back to you, you physically felt the pain in the atmosphere. Who knows, maybe you were taking it to heart much harder than it needed to be. But if there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you were incredibly hurt about the fact that Taehyung had to hide your existence. He stared into your eyes as if he had no idea who you knew were.

You were furious, betrayed, and, with the lack of a better word, so fucking hurt by what happened. Being who you were, you also knew that there was no way you could stay mad at Taehyung forever. There was a sliver of hope for you to forgive him, but now wasn’t the time.

Taehyung was more than an entire summer of memories. He was an unexpected occurrence, like rain in a drought. He was your first text in the morning and your last text before going to bed. He became the reason for you to be excited to head to work, hoping for him to show up.

But the rain will stop falling, texts don’t get sent, work becomes a chore, and eventually, seasons end.

♡ rae

[jasperlion]

Peace and War — very much based on dialogue/meta

Alm has an interesting view upon war, peace and all of their portents, although most is likely based on how Mycen raised him, more of soldier and leader (empathically/charismatically/but specifically a military one, being a general himself before his discharge) than anything else.

Of the following conversation I’ll highlight the important points on this, since I don’t want to lose the context of said conversation for the sake of what I want to talk about (since it’s important to the topic, too).

Alm: Look, I’ve heard from the others. I know the drought’s made Zofia a scary place. People are starving, and many have turned to thievery and plunder. Brigands loot villages for a mere sack of grain, and soon they’ll be at OUR door! And don’t think I haven’t heard what the Rigelian army has been up to. They’ve been crossing the border for years in violation of the Divine Accord. And with that sacred bond broken, now the Terrors have resurfaced as well… Mycen: …All true. Alm: Zofia is full of innocent people who are looking for help. Please, Grandfather. I want to make a difference in a world bigger than a handful of houses. I want to see all the amazing places you’ve told me about— that Celica told me about! Mycen: Suppose you do set forth with your sword and your wits. So what? Alm: …… Mycen: Will the grand story of your life be how you met the end of a brigand’s axe? Before you dream of changing the world, learn your damned place in it. And no more talk of leaving. -Mycen leaves- Alm: …What’s his problem?! Why teach me to use a sword if you’re not going to let me fight? Every day in this place is exactly the same as the next. I know I’m meant for more than this! But you have to let me find it!

--

Alm: Lukas! Were you able to speak with my grandfather? What did he say? Lukas: He said no. Sir Mycen made it clear he has no intention of joining the Deliverance. Alm: What? But he’s ridiculously strong! He could defeat some stuffy chancellor with his eyes closed! Why would he refuse when so many people are suffering? Lukas: I cannot speak to Sir Mycen’s thinking, but it seems we misplaced our hopes. I’ll have to return to our hideout and bring Sir Clive the ill news. Perhaps Mycen has simply grown too old for the battlefield.

--

Alm: I’m just saying we could do it together. …Fighting, I mean. Not the lance. Grandfather trained all of us, right? Not just me. You already know how to use a sword and a bow. So what’s the problem?

--

Alm: What? They’ve taken a prisoner?! Lukas: Alm? Let’s just be calm and… Alm?! Alm, wait, don’t — Alm: Hold it, you lecherous pigs! Brigand: Huh? Who the hell are you? Alm: Release the woman you’re holding at once, or else

Battle has always been a solution for Alm, but not in the way of savagery or wanting to subjugate, as much as it is to defend. All of his focus on the problems are what he can stop with his physical strength to protect innocents who are suffering. He is not beyond killing those who attack others to meet his goals, but he’s also not beyond parley and seeking from his opponents a more peaceful solution (provided they aren’t already doing something dastardly, like looting, attacking people, kidnapping them, etc). All in all, those are the views of someone growing up under a general, views necessary for someone whom his father and surrogate grandfather both intended to go to war in the first place and fight.

Even so, despite his willingness to draw the blade, he’s not willing to kill on sight (usually) unless weapons are already drawn. He’s rather compassionate to a fault, which stops him from attacking others without question even when he jumps to the wrong conclusion, not unless he has seen them do shit with his own two eyes (that’s pretty much how you strike the match to his temper and killing intent fhkJDKHD).

Alm: Don’t blame yourself, Lukas. Sir Clive sent you to Ram Village. right? You didn’t have a choice. If blame lies with anyone, it’s him. Lukas: …… Alm: Regardless, standing here accomplishes nothing. We need a plan. I assume this Clair person is still alive, right? In that case, we just have to take back the Southern Outpost and save her!

Really, his solutions always involve getting in a scuffle to save someone when he knows they were both wronged and are in trouble. And he jumps to conclusions and is quick to pin blame.

Of note is that instead of ordering a chase of Desaix and the Rigelian detachment with him, he instead decides to stay within the castle. He does this again after Berkut’s mirror smash, ordering his men rest instead of give chase to the fleeing Rigelians. Alm may be focused on battle as a means to an end, but he’s not at all for eliminating all who stood in his path or destroying them. (Gaiden Alm would say different here, lfmao)

It can be a little confusing when Alm has always been about compromise when there’s a misunderstanding — surely the whole thing makes him butt heads with himself... and it does! His argument with Celica is one of the biggest demonstrations of this, but there’s another thing I want to touch first.

Silque: Sir Alm, what did you see? Alm: It was… It was so clear! Silque, it was horrible! Silque: Be calm. What you saw in the vision is not the present. The Mother is either telling you what could be…or what once was. Her power is sight. Alm: So the vision is something that’s going to happen? Silque: Something that COULD happen. If the vision was ill-boding, perhaps it was a sign— a sign that the Mother wishes for you to take action in order to prevent it. Alm: ……

Alm’s reasons to continue pressing forward with the war despite Celica’s pleas is both his will to make a difference and the fact that he was called to do it. Mila sent him a vision that if things continue and he does nothing, all of Zofia will die. Her vision sets him directly at odds with Celica, who recieves one that should Alm continue on his path, he will die (and everyone he loves will die on his way to get there). 

They are directly contrasting visions, albeit Celica’s was likely a warning to get her off the island before the Cantor arrived and likely killed everyone at the priory (you know the one, the one on the lonely boat who implies he was on his way for her). Anyway, this isn’t about that, so fast forward to the argument itself with this in mind: His feeling of duty to see the war through was to save lives, but his focus was not to invade Rigel, merely push them all the way back.

Alm: …Wow. That’s quite the story. I’m trying to picture you swashbuckling pirates, and… Yeah. Just…wow. Celica: I didn’t mean to swashbuckle anyone. It just sort of…happened. But forget all that for the moment. Alm, you aren’t REALLY planning to fight the Rigelian Empire, are you? Alm: Listen, it’s not… It’s not something I chose. They were the ones who attacked us. Celica: But there must be a way to resolve things other than bloodshed, no? Alm: That’s a pretty thought, Celica, but I’m not sure it’s true. If it were, no one would be risking life and limb on the battlefield. Celica: Is it really so naive? Zofians and Rigelians are both people of Valentia, are we not? I know we can reach some kind of accord if we just try! Besides that, I… I just can’t imagine Emperor Rudolf is the monster some claim him to be. Alm: It doesn’t matter what sort of man he is. The Rigelian Empire chose to cross Zofia’s border—that’s a fact. We aim to drive back the invaders. Nothing more. Celica: But why do YOU have to lead this rebellion? Mycen’s grandson or no, you’re neither knight nor noble. So why make yourself a target like this?! Alm: Nrgh… If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was speaking to a blue blood. My station doesn’t matter, Celica. I’m here because I was called. I have a duty to perform, and I’ll perform it. No more, and no less. Celica: Oh, Alm… Alm: Do you think I WANTED this fight? This all started because Lima IV went and angered the empire. If you wish to point fingers, point them at the ruler who failed his people. It’s his fault we’re in this mess. Celica: That’s not… Well, so what if it is? Maybe you should go become king if it’s such a damnably easy job! Alm: What? Celica, that’s not— Celica: You’re awfully free with accusations for a boy with no idea what royalty entails! And now that you’re a “hero,” I imagine the throne is next on the list, is that it? Alm: No, it’s not like that at all, Celica! I just want to keep Zofia SAFE! Besides, there’s an heir. A princess of the royal family may have survived. If she turned up and fixed all this, I’d happily return to Ram. You could…come with me, you know? It’d be like old times.

Hoooo, other than Alm and Celica here fanning flames (flames Alm didn’t even know existed, and flames Celica did not realize were alight at all due to Alm’s previous confrontations with nobles (notably Fernand)) this shows a lot of Alm’s thinking. 

While he’s very gung ho and willing to fight for a cause, and even kill for it, he’s not alright with it having to be the solution (even if he’s okay with using it as a solution). Basically, it’s the only way he knows he can help with the problem, and he is fine with doing it, but he’s not fine with having to do it. If there are other options, he’d take them. That’s the biggest takeaway, really, since he doesn’t just speak those thoughts, but acts upon them. Jumping right to the start of Act 4 now...

Alm: …… Clive: A word, Alm? Alm: Clive! Did we receive a reply to our petition? Clive: Unfortunately, no. The empire’s silence is likely its answer. I believe it wise to resign ourselves. Emperor Rudolf has no intention of treating for peace. He means to continue his march on Zofian soil. Alm: Damn… Clive: Our men are approaching their limit. And Rigel’s climate is far colder than what they knew in Zofia. Further delaying here will only sap their strength and morale. Alm: All right, Clive. I trust your judgment. Let’s get ready to march. Clive: Understood. I’ll pass word to the others and prepare them to cross into the empire. Alm: …… What’s all of this leading to?

Alm has legitimately sent a petition to Rudolf to stop his march into Zofian soil. As per his word, his aim was merely to drive back the invasion, then request that the Rigelian’s cease trying again. His attempts for peace, or at least a meeting for parley, are met with silence, and yet he waits until Wyrmstym/Winter before finally heeding Clive’s advice and engaging in a march. Who knows how long he had between Pegastym//Autumn and Wyrmstym to wait, but it’s implied it’s been long enough for a courrier to make it to the Empire’s capital, wait for political deliberation and receive a response, and then some.

And most importantly...

Alm: Listen, Celica. I know you sacrificed your own life to protect me and the others. But I never wanted that. I couldn’t ever be happy in a world you died to create! Celica: Oh, Alm… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Alm: Don’t apologize. Just know that I need you, all right? Without your wisdom, all I know how to do is fight whatever’s in front of me. So please… Will you fight with me? Believe in me. Believe in US. Believe in our combined strength!

Alm is very much aware that his skills lie in battle to resolve a conflict or problem, and as much as he has stated to dislike meaningless fights or struggles that can be avoided (as noted by his attempt to speak to some enemies (like witches) to try and dissuade them from attacking, or willingness to listen to Tatiana and thus speak to Zeke at the start of the fight with Jerome), and has even been noted to be a compassionate/kind leader (your choices as the player aside if you decide to kill everyone on ‘defeat boss’ missions lfmao), enough that Rigelians know this already and Rudolf can positively affirm it.

It makes him a mixed bag of emotions for this reason, because he feels terrible about what he’s good at doing, but he feels its the only way he can help.

Anyway, this was too long a post to just say that, but it’s what it is at its core. Alm is down to fight, especially if it’s someone he sees doing something vile, but as a means to an end he feels if it’s unnecessary it should be avoided (even if he feels its the only skill he has, even if it’s not particularly true). This compassionate side of him does not show at all when he feels it’s someone who deserves it, however (like Slayde and Desaix), which is probably something considered a flaw by some, maybe a dangerous one in a leader. It’s kind of fortunate that he has a well-maintained moral compass, I suppose, because this kind of thinking could lead straight to hell otherwise.

[red-wardens]

DA Questions

Tagged by: @goblin-deity and @gothkimmyschmidt -- thank you :)

Tagging: @jaffa-keksi @chillyrose @dickeybbqpit @mocha-writes @the-dread-doggo @heraldofwho @keeperscompanionsdai @space-vashoth (if you guys haven’t done it already. if you have, tag me so i can see!)

–---------

01) Favorite game of the series?

Dragon Age 2. I love the bisexual disaster companions and how they have friends/relationships/lives outside of you. And I love Hawke and their tragic story. I also like having years passing with the same protagonist/companions instead of “my new companions and I had one crazy year together”. Plus fighting mechanics were my favorite in this game. 

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

I saw gifs of Morrigan on tumblr years ago (back when DA2 was still new) and thought, “holy shit, she’s pretty I should play that”, and just never got around to it till a couple years later till when I saw a lot of gifs of default Marian Hawke and thought “she’s gorgeous and funny and I would die for her” (I still can’t believe I used to think I was straight...) and then found out she’s not till the second game so I hurried up and bought Origins to play first. Then got hooked, Origins has such a great story.

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

I’m on my 4th and 5th (playing simultaneously) playthroughs of Origins, I’ve played DA2 either 6 or 7 times. Inquisition I’ve only played once and I skipped most of the side missions because that game is so long.

04) Favorite race to play as?

Elf. I love dwarves a lot though and if they could do magic they’d easily be the fave. 

05) Favorite class?

Mage. I like healing and not having to get close to enemies. 

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

I try to play differently each time and role play hard (ex: certain mage OC’s are only allowed to have skills in certain fields of magic even if it’s inconvenient for me, my traumatized-by-Carver’s-death Hawke who is triggered by seeing ogres can only “hold position” when one appears and I can only fight as the companions because she’s having a panic attack). In Origins I like to put someone different on the throne each time, side with mages once and templars the next, and have companions love/hate me according to my OC’s personality (and not cheat by using the Feast Day gifts). In DA2 I have a different personality Hawke each time and they make varying choices but in the end I have never sided with templars. I think in my 2nd Inquisition playthrough I’ll side with templars though out of curiosity. 

07) Go-to adventuring group?

Always depends on who is the love interest and who are the closest friends of my protagonist. Even if the team comp is terrible. 

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Blue Surana was my first character ever so she’s had the longest time of me adding/subtracting/updating her and her story. That being said I like to think I’ve put a lot of thought into my Mahariel and Amell as well. Out of my Hawkes, Claira is the most developed. 

09) Favorite romance?

Fenris. 

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

I've read all the comics and I’ve read “The Calling” and “The Last Flight” I plan to read the other books soon hopefully. 

11) If you read them, which was your favorite book?

I really recommend The Last Flight if you’re a die hard Grey Wardens fan like me. The main character inspired the name for my Mahariel. 

12) Favorite DLCs?

 I genuinely forgot Awakening is DLC since it came with my game but, yeah. I love all the companions in Awakening and I wish it were longer. “The Exiled Prince” is also another fave since I genuinely like Sebastian Vael and he’s a kickass squadmate. 

13) Things that annoy you.

The white-washing, what happened to Orsino, the way Inquisition doesn’t take into account Hawke could have been a blood mage, no healing as an Inquisition mage, the fucking Requisition Officer, the way you can’t be nicer to Sera, no dwarf romances, and how the Inquisitor can’t call Cullen out on certain things (Cassandra too, honestly, though I love her she can be really insensitive to other cultures). That’s just in the games, don’t even get me started on some of the fandom. 

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Frozen Dog Lovers > Snooty Elf Oppressors, any day 

15) Templars or mages?

Mages, no contest.

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

I have 3 worldstates that I have playthroughs for, and a Multi-Warden AU

Worldstate 1 - Arcane Warrior/Battlemage/Fire Mage, mutual-pining-for-Sten, grey-sexual Blue Surana + Spirit Healer/Ice Mage, Fenris Romance, gay Akono Hawke

Worldstate 2 - Ranger/Assasin Archer, Zevran Romance, straight Isseya Mahariel + Blood Mage/Earth Mage, Sebastian rivalmance, panromantic/ace Henley Hawke

Worldstate 3 - Blood Mage/Spirit Healer/Entropy Mage, Leliana Romance, bisexual Alyss Amell (dies) + Shadow/Dual-Blade Rogue, Anders Romance, bisexual Claira Hawke

Multi-Warden AU: Blue Surana is main warden and recruits the others after Ostagar forming what I call the “Warden Squad”. Most thought-out world, that I have the most writing for but will probably never get around to writing the actual fic. We will see. Also, I need to make some Inquisitors for all these worldstates....they’re planned out I just need to force myself to actually play them. 

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Mabari’s: Rabbit (Blue Surana), Dog (Isseya Mahariel), Teddy (Alyss Amell), Tor (Akono Hawke),  Better Carver “BC” (Henley Hawke), Bear (Claira Hawke). Isseya Mahariel numbers her wolf and bear summons A-# for wolves and B-# for bears. 

18) Have you installed any mods?

I play on xbox so nah, sadly. 

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Blue Surana didn’t want to leave the Circle and Isseya Mahariel didn’t want to give up searching for Tamlen so “no” for both of them, but they both were amazing at it. Alyss Amell, as much as it terrified her to leave to fight things, wanted to be free of Kinloch Hold. 

20) Hawke’s personality?

Akono is almost exclusively Purple though he has rare Blue moments when speaking to Carver or sometimes Fenris. 

Henley is solidly Red except maybe once or twice chose purple banter for talking to her only friend, Varric. 

Claira is the most varied in that she’s split 60-40 between Blue and Red, meaning well and wanting to be all good/peaceful, but having a wild, passionate temper when defending mages and her friends/family. I also headcanon she has the foulest mouth of my Hawkes though she actively tries to stop cursing it’s an unbreakable habit. She’s also a shameless flirt and hits that heart button almost every single time it comes up (I wouldn’t consider her Purple at all though since she isn’t sarcastic and is the type to laugh at jokes rather than make her own).  

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

I made Cole and I matching outfits because I love him ._.

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

This could get long if I listed everyone so, Blue Surana regrets not telling Sten how she felt sooner, though she doubts it would have changed anything. Isseya Mahariel wishes Tamlen could have been found sooner so the Joining could have saved him. 

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

My entire Multi-Warden AU is a big “fuck you” to canon because all those potential wardens deserve to live dammit.

24) Who did you leave in the Fade?

In this house we do not leave Hawkes in the Fade. So, sorry Loghain :(

25) Favorite mount?

I legit forgot I had a mount 90% of the time. At least I got to hear more dialogue I guess. 

[evotter]

jan, march, sept + one of your choice, love. have a great day, u icon

thank u kyra i adore u

january: what was the first fic you posted this year?

the first fic i posted this year TECHNICALLY was the epilogue of a different path. the first standalone was chewbacca (aka my introduction to the jily world once again and i have such a soft spot for it)

march: do you listen to music whilst writing? 

yes! pretty much always; if it’s not music, it’s a TV show.

september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?

quite literally anything you’ve left on any of my fics BUT there are a few that i hold dear to my heart. i’ll post them under the cut cause they are LONG :’)

ancient: the first fic you ever posted online?

hahahaaaaaaa. it was my own version of rick riordan’s the son of neptune before the actual book was published. it was on ff.net, and the first chapter got 7 reviews, and i felt so good about myself after that lmfao. who knew i’d still be writing 8 years later?

ask me questions!

OKAY so i have 3 top favorites:

from a different path:

okay so i had seen this in someone else’s bookmarks the other day, thought it was an interesting concept—especially since i too love slytherin!percy and strongly subscribe to ofswordsandpens’ headcanons about it—but didn’t give it another thought until i was listening to a video about the cursed child and went: wait, there’s a percabeth hogwarts au that i saw somewhere. and immediately i hunted this down and i’m just in awe? i tore through it. belatedly, i realized that i made a mistake: i didn’t write down my thoughts as i was reading, which is definitely a disservice to you. however, here are a generalized list of things that i loved.

first of all, with hogwarts au’s, there are three main aspects that i look for: plot, characterization, and quality of writing. normally, fics of this size lack one or more of these key factors, but i was astonished to find that the plot is tremendously tight and intriguing (my lip bled from biting it so much because i’ve been stressed to the max), you write these characters with such distinct voices i can easily picture them saying everything—except, of course, now in a little british accent—and your writing flows so well, it feels almost like i’m reading an actual harry potter book, just with percy and co. you also do a masterful job of weaving together aspects of the pjo universe with the established canon of hp.

and there are so many specific things that i love. primarily, the way you write the relationships in this story; not just concerning percabeth (though i will get to that in a minute), but also with each of the interactions between all of the characters. i applaud you for how you handled luke/annabeth and rachel/percy, and the friendship among them all is just incredibly well done. i especially love how well you wrote connor and zoë and just, a lot of characters that i don’t often think about when i think of pjo. grover and percy’s friendship especially is heartbreaking, i just. he’s so protective because he loves his friends and holy fuck i also love how you wrote grover in this. but i just adored how you wrote annabeth/percy—the love between them, both platonic in its early stages and the romantic all throughout, was doubly apparent. i ached when they kissed each other’s cheeks, and i inwardly cheered when she kissed him in the locker room. there was just such a natural progression, to me, of their relationship. and man did i dig it. i’m excited (and maybe a little scared) to see where you take their relationship in the future.

boy, this is getting long. sorry. but some more just little quick things: loved the b99 reference, with both of their competitive natures playing out in a similar way to jake and amy’s. i kind of want to go back and see if i can find any other references that i missed because i was just too engaged in the story to catch them. also, zoë’s death killed me all over again, thanks for that. i like how you’re working the kronos plot in, and i can’t wait to see how the Final Battle plays out. what else? oh! professor hestia? beautiful. eventual maybe professor percy? outstanding. percy kissing the top of annabeth’s head? breathtaking. rachel being a quidditch commentator? earth shattering. (truly i cackled when i saw that.) mrs. o’leary being a cat? incredible. how you incorporated percy’s water powers? stunning.

ooh, this exchange was beautiful and had me cackling it was so in-character:

“None of us are dying.” Connor clarifies. “Not you, not me, not Annie, not the rest of us.”

“I might have to dispute that.” Annabeth says, from Percy’s other side. “Call me ‘Annie’ one more time, Stoll, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Connor only grins at her. “Sorry, love. No more ‘Annie’. Can I call you Beth?”

“No.”

“Anna?”

“No.”

okay, so i just finished chapter nine and i am blown away. sorry for how long this comment was, but a fic of this magnitude truly warrants it. i can’t wait to see what happens next.

i leave you with just two words: “holy shit.”

from a different path: 

god, oh my god, am i the only dumb bitch who didn’t get what the prophecy was??

anyway, i stumbled on this fic last year, patiently waiting for its completion, and now that i’ve rediscovered it, i’m so glad i finished it all in one go! i couldn’t imagine the tension of waiting for the next chapter, especially since the tension is so well-crafted!! i hardly noticed the tonal shift even as the story got darker and darker as it led up to the war, and in that way i was reminded of how extremely similar it felt to reading the hp books for the first time! you nailed percy very well i might say, and the awkward-yet-caring relationship he has with his dad. i daresay you gave connor and zoe more characterization than rick riordan himself, and the percabeth you wrote is perfect to the nth degree. i appreciate that you didnt bother with all the love triangle and unrequited feelings nonsense as well.

but i have to say, even as i cried at sally and paul’s wedding, or at dionysus’ quiet mourning for castor, what really struck with me most was the way you handled silena. for that, i have no words. that was a job extremely well done. thank you so much for blessing us with this fic.

from chewbacca (a comment from u!): 

A girl in a bright yellow hooded raincoat stumbles into the cafe on one of the slowest nights James has ever seen. Her coat is dripping all over the floor he’d just cleaned (but it’s fine) and when he leans over the counter he sees that her boots match the coat.

First of all!!! Thats the best opening line in the world and nobody can convince me otherwise. I want to become a publisher just so that if you ever write a book, I’d be able to publish it. ( like omg, what an honor??? )

She looks like sunshine, standing there with the amount of yellow in her wardrobe. Briefly, James wonders if that’s her favorite color. It’s got to be.

Im going to quote this whole fic but I really love these lines? Like, you have this distinct style of writiting that I aim to acheive and you’re literally such a rolemodel!!! These are my favorite kind of fics to read. Funny story but I was going through a ‘no thanks Jily’ mood (  a horror, i know !! ) but your fics are just,,,,exceptions? You could write about trash and I’d love it and ask for you to sign me up.

 “Say it again, but convincingly this time.”

ooof this dialogue??? let me breathe

This is the longest he’s stood still since he started working. It’s actually a miracle.

and the funniest person award goes to YOU. also, the most talented and cutest but thats neither here nor there.

james taking care of fleamont, switching off the lights gives me just a nice and realistic vibe? its so simple but i love how you added it.

honestly at this point, ive been sucked again by the fanfic. it feels less like a fic and more like a masterpiece that belongs in a museum but anyway.

“James is supposed to be helping.

James is on his phone.”

ugh i love ur mind. im rereading and its so nice and lovely. even if its like 1am and im exhausted, this fic is sustaining me.

“Do it off the clock, would you?”

PEAK HUMOR

have i mentioned how much i love that scene with euphemia? she seems like such a lovely mom. i love ur euphemia the most. and ahh, both of them just rushing to the hospital ? another 100% good scene.

“Euphemia smiles too, but looks at Fleamont rather than at her son. “Yes,” she says. “It really does.””

fic? or shakspeare? HMMM

A girl in a bright yellow hooded raincoat stumbles into the cafe on one of the slowest nights James has ever seen // “Get fucked.”

the fic!! has made a circle!!! i love how it begins and ends along the same lines. I really want to know how??? are you so talented im in love.

i just really love this fic, okay? i love how james is just the kindest, lily is allowed to have feelings, its just so soft and warm. and it makes someone feel loved, want love anyway.

the dynamic between the characters are just so real and great and im astounded, in short.

your sirius is everything. so many fics potray him as a dick??? which is first of all #rude and also, not at all true. you made me love these characters even more so i sincerely hope you never stop writing.

you’re such a beautiful writer and the way you string words together is just poetic and gorgeous and all the other good adjectives you can think of. i read your spiderman x reader too and i was a goner for you. EVERYTHING YOU WRITE IS SO GOOD. i read it so long ago but i can vividly remember peter whipping the mask off and she just going wtf stop on the window ledge. what im trying to say is that you leave this lasting impression on people that make them remember random scenes and words / prose long after they’ve read it which is a remarkable feat, i believe.

and im so sorry im not on tumblr rn bc i cannot keep recing this fic but i have told my friends about your writing and they loved it too. you’ve got like a million fans. when i do get back from my hiatus, im going to keep recing your fics and people will cry because their universe will shift thanks to the newfound joy of your presence in their life.

lastly, im more of a dog person and that, more than anything, should tell you how much i love this fic. i love u. and basee on your writing, i want to hug you, be your best friend and make you cookies bc again

WOW

[fourteenacross]

hi its me again. sorry. ive got some oc's for a story that im trying to piece together, but its kinda a mess. turns out i cant write natural dialouge. youre really good at it, and since i havent figured it out by re-reading your stories over and over again, i figured id come to the source, how do you write dialouge that doesnt feel forced or awful? ❤❤-Myah

Don’t worry about it, I love getting messages even if I cam crap at actually responding to them in a timely manner /o\

As for dialogue…gosh, I wish I had an easy answer! Dialogue is my favorite thing to write and it’s the thing that generally comes easiest to me. About half of the stuff I cut when I’m editing is unnecessary dialogue and the reason so many of my things get stretched out to so many words is because I can never make the characters shut up. I like banter, I like jokes, I like people with an easy rapport, which leads to lots of chatting.

The key for me, for fic anyway, is hearing the dialogue in the character’s voice. I don’t know if it’s a skill or a talent or what, but that’s how I know I’ve nailed it. If I can get the character’s voice in my head, hear what I’m writing as if it’s said by the actual actor or in the same cadence as the writer, that’s half the battle. It solves the problem of it sounding realistic and the problem of it sounding like something that particular character would say. 

Getting to that point, though, is a little harder for me to advise because, like I said, it’s either a talent or a skill, but that’s something that I’ve just…always more or less been able to do to some degree. The advice I can give, I guess, is to listen to the way people talk to each other on teevee or movies or whatever. Listen to how you converse with your friends. Do you ever obsess over what you’re going to say to someone in a particular situation and make it up over and over in your head? Break that apart, look at how it’s structured and why you put it that.

The shitheads are easy for me to write because they’re a little younger than me, but they’re here and now. They’re in this time period, living in a place I lived, with a lot of the same references. They’re dumb twenty-two year old boys, and I’ve known a lot of dumb twenty-two year old boys in my time. They’re casual and sarcastic with each other the same way my friends and I are casual and sarcastic with each other. There’s a little bit of code-switching involved–they’re more formal in the classroom and on cases and with the Washingtons, and those are conscious choices that they make, but generally they swear a lot and use slang and pepper their speech with filler words (”um,” “uh,” “ah,” as well as “like,” “I mean,” “basically,” “you know,” etc).

The other big thing that helps, I think, is just knowing your characters inside and out. If you’re in their head and you know their motivation, you start to structure their speech with the background of their intentions, if that makes any sense. Whether they’re cautious or trying to get some information from someone or oblivious to what’s going on or secretly angry at the other person or whatever–that all changes how people say things to each other and that’s a big part of giving life to the language. There are a dozen ways to ask the same question, and some will be perfect and others will sound totally stiff and wrong, even though they’re essentially asking the same thing.

FOR EXAMPLE, let’s look at two things under the cut:

So, here’s a thing based on a conversation in a fic I just posted, a dialogue between two characters:

“Good morning, my dear. I’m shocked that you’re up earlier than usual.”

“I went to the gym.”

“That’s strange, because usually you have trouble getting out of bed to go to work in the morning, but today is the start of our vacation and you got up earlier than you normally would for work.”

“As I said, I was at the gym. I find that if I’m going to go to the gym, I need to go very early or very late so that it doesn’t throw off my schedule.”

“We’re on vacation, though. Do you have plans today that I don’t know about?”

Which, you know, is a perfectly civil and valid conversation for two people with a more formal style of speaking or a less familiar relationship to have with one another. But even though it says exactly the same thing, meaning wise, as the actual dialogue I used, never in a million years would shithead Alex and John have that conversation at ten am on a Saturday in their kitchen, if they would ever have it at all. So instead, we take the same meaning and we shift it to get what I put in the actual story:

“Good morning, starshine. I can’t fucking believe you’re up this early.”

“I went to the gym.”

“You stumble half-asleep into the lab most days, but your first weekend off and you’re up at the asscrack of dawn.”

“I went to the gym. If I’m going to the gym, I’ve either gotta go first thing or last thing. Any other time and it fucks up the whole day.”

“There’s nothing to fuck up, we’re on vacation.”

“It fucks up my sense of time.”

“Vacation. What could you possibly be planning on doing today?”

Which, you know, sounds much more like something these assholes would say to each other, while conveying the exact same meaning.

The other tip I’ll give you is to give certain characters particular verbal tics that they repeat. If you do this, it really helps flesh out the character in the readers’ minds and adds a certain rhythm and tone to their speech that makes it particular to them. For example, in the ghosthunters, each of the characters have very specific names that they call each other. I actually made a chart to keep track of it. For instance, Lafayette sometimes calls GWash “George,” while everyone else only calls him “Washington” or “GWash.” Herc mostly uses people’s last names. John never calls Alex “Ham,” even though all the other student characters (except Burr) tend to do it. Beyond names, John swears a lot and has a hard time expressing his feelings, so anytime he’s saying something emotional, he draws it out and stutters. Lafayette uses a hodge-podge of formal and informal English and occasionally gets thrown off if a word is the same in French and English. John has terrible pick-up lines that come out when he’s tipsy. Alex has a tendency to go on random tangents questioning the literal meaning of idioms he uses. Alex and John have two exchanges that they frequently repeat (”Hey.”/”Hi.” and “I’m/You’re a _____.” / “But You’re/I’m my/your _____.”) Et cetera.

Oh gosh, I hope this makes any sense whatsoever and is at least a little bit helpful. I feel like I’m just rambling at this point. I have a lot of difficulty explaining HOW I do certain things if I don’t have to put a lot of work into them and, to be honest, dialogue is something I personally don’t have to work hard to nail.

So, tl;dr: 1) Try to hear the words in the characters’ voices; 2) Listen to how people around you, in fiction and RL, speak to each other; 3) Know the characters well and take care in choosing words that you think it makes sense for them to use; 4) Give further character to people’s speech by giving them repeated verbal tics.

I hope this helps!

[ciathyzareposts]

The Black Gate: Making Britannia Great Again

This is taken out of context, but it amuses me to pretend it happened right after I said. “Hello, Lord British! It’s good to see you again!”

           I thought I remembered that The Black Gate’s plot leads you around Britannia on a leash, and for the purposes of my second session, I was willing to follow. For role-playing reasons alone, I wanted to see Lord British as soon as possible and get his take on recent events. All the clues from the murder in Trinsic also pointed in that direction, including the fact that there was a similar murder there a few years ago and that the Trinsic murderers–a gargoyle and a man with a hook for a hand–had likely escaped on The Crown Jewel, bound for Britain.

              It’s a little unnerving that the Guardian approves of my choice of route.

             A few years ago, I tried to calculate the “real world” size of Ultima IV. I came up with figures ranging from 4 square miles (if you go with 10 feet per square, which made sense in relation to houses and furniture) to around 75 square miles (if you go by in-game travel time) to 144 square miles (if you go by the practical average size of landscape features). Even at its most generous, Britannia is the size of a large town or a small county. That is (somewhat disappointingly) felt more keenly in this game, where the developers significantly expanded the ground size of the cities but not the size of the world. The Serpent Mountains are now basically the rear wall of Lord British’s castle, with no open plain between the two. Paws is a twist in the road up from Trinsic, and Britain continues immediately from Paws. All of this to say is that “a ship bound from Trinsic to Britain” is more than a little silly since the entirety of the ocean is about the size of a municipal reservoir, and the distance from the dock of Trinsic to the dock at Britain is maybe a dozen boat lengths. You could walk it before the ship’s crew had a chance to finish hoisting the sails.

          As I said, the village of Paws is a twist in the road north of Trinsic, and there’s something at that twist in the road: a theater where three characters named Paul, Meryl, and Dustin perform a “passion play” about the Fellowship. We paid to see it. I was a bunch of melodramatic nonsense about how a man loses his wife but rises out of his despair through the inner strength he finds through the Fellowship. He pledges half his wealth to the Fellowship and somehow receives a bundle of gold in return, at which point he declares:

The voice came to me in a dream

‘Twas mine ‘inner’ voice so fair

I now have a companion and provider

And a master about whom I care.

          Are you fourteen or four?

         If you’d been paying attention, you’d note that the terms “companion,” “provider,” and “master” are what the Guardian calls himself during the game’s introduction, but in case you weren’t paying attention, the game calls attention to it for you:

             Why not just provide a flashback while you’re at it?

          So only a few hours into the game, not only is it clear that the Fellowship is rotten, but that there’s some connection between them and the Guardian whose face keeps taunting you. Maybe that’s okay, but I’m not sure that for storytelling reasons it was a good idea to show that many cards that quickly.

           It’s called “intelligence-gathering,” Iolo. Look it up.

          If the Fellowship’s basic corruption isn’t already obvious to the player, it becomes more so in Paws, where the organization runs a homeless shelter but only lets you stay there if you join. A couple of proud beggars panhandle in the north of town and refuse to join the Fellowship, speaking contemptuously of a fellow beggar who did the opposite and now recruits for them. One of the beggars is on crutches and the other has no legs below the knees

                I guess magical healing doesn’t restore limbs.

          (The beggar on crutches is either a peeping tom or the programmers didn’t bother to restrict the opening-the-shutters-on-a-sunny-day animation to NPCs who actually own the structure in question.)

             Pervert.

          The shelter is run by a married couple, Feridwyn and Brita. They’re skeptical that I’m the Avatar. Other than Merrick, the beggar, there’s a widow named Alina staying there with her baby. Her husband, Weston, has recently been jailed in Britain for “stealing fruit from the Royal Orchards”–based on the testimony of a Fellowship member. She’s hung up on the irony of being forced to join the organization that ratted on her husband, but I’m wondering how stealing fruit from the Royal Orchards could possibly be a crime, let alone one that carries a prison sentence. One more thing to talk to Lord British about.

        Back in Trinsic, I had found some scroll from the “Britannian Purity League” demanding that someone “Keep Britannia clean — send the gargoyles back!” I had suspected that there might be a connection with the Fellowship. Feridwyn and Brita had the same scroll prominently on a table in the shelter, right next to the Book of the Fellowship. I guess that removes all doubt. It’s just weird to see an organization striving for legitimacy so open about their racism.

            Send them back where? Isn’t the other side of the world gone?

         Feridwyn and Brita have a son named Garritt. They insist he’s a master of the pan pipes and will one day study at the conservatory in Britain. The only other child in town is a boy named Tobias whose mother, Camile, runs a farm. The two don’t like each other but are forced to hang out sometimes because of their age. Tobias hates the Fellowship. Feridwyn and Brita judge Camile for being a single mother. They hope that the behavior of their perfect son rubs off on Tobias.

            The social commentary in this game is 30 years old but, depressingly, not out-of-date.

                        Camile was delighted when she saw me in the inn. She somehow recognized me immediately.

         How?!

          The source of her delight soon became apparent:

          If George Washington ever steps out of a portal in my yard, I’m going to ask if he wouldn’t mind cutting down some trees before he moves on.

             In 200 years, the legend of the Man from Another World who shows up to Do Menial Errands and Solve Small Problems has clearly grown strong.

             Meanwhile, the butcher, Morfin, is reporting that someone has recently stolen a quantity of serpent venom from him–serpent venom being an extract from silver serpents, a creature that has only appeared in one previous Ultima game, Exodus, where it was unique. According to Morfin, serpent venom causes increases in strength, endurance, and euphoria, skin necrosis after repetitive use, and fatality at high doses. The government is close to regulating sales of it. Morfin coyly reports that he “keeps a small stock” of it and occasionally sells it to “the apothecary in Britannia.” (I assume he means “Britain.”) The owner of the abattoir, Andrew, tells me that Morfin hides a key in his shop. I spend some time moving things around before I find it under a plant. It opens not the locked door in his shop but a chest in his home, where I find some gold but refuse to take it.

        I identify a key under a plant.

           But I do find a key in his house that opens the door in his shop. It opens a door to a small room with an unlocked chest. Here, I find several vials of silver serpent venom, five gold bars (indicating he’s been making a lot from his side-business), and a ledger showing dozens of sales over the last year–clearly not just a “small supply” going to some apothecary. When I confront him with the ledger, he confesses that he sells the venom to the Britannian Mining Company, which uses it to make gargoyles work longer hours.

         Pro-tip: Any time you argue that what you’re doing isn’t “technically” against the law, you’ve already lost the argument.

          Anyway, you’ve probably already solved the mystery from what I’ve told you. Feridwyn and Brita are quick to blame Tobias–a blame that grows stronger when a vial of venom is found among Tobias’s things. But Tobias says that Garritt was hanging around his place, supposedly “looking for a ball,” and indeed I soon find a vial of venom among Garrit’s belongings. Moreover, Garritt soon displays symptoms of using the venom. This revelation causes Feridwyn and Brita to realize their own arrogance and selfishness and to re-dedicate their lives to . . . Sorry, I can’t even finish.

                       Paws has a few other things going on. The register at the only inn in town, the Salty Dog, shows that someone calling himself “The Avatar” has been there recently, as has Dupre. I buy some bread there for my party members’ bottomless maws. The innkeeper, Polly, is the object of affection of the miller, Thurston, and I get the two crazy kids together after a couple of dialogue back-and-forths. Both refuse to join the Fellowship for their own reasons, which is as close to anything as a virtue test in this game.

        The miller confesses his unrequited love to a complete stranger.

           There’s an antique dealer in town who sells a sextant for 20 gold pieces, a lot less than the guy in Trinsic wanted. When you use the sextant, it tells you your coordinates. But when you use the map while in possession of a sextant, it shows your position in the game world.

           If only this could be called up with a single keypress.

              I realized with a start that I’d lingered in Paws too long. An obviously-evil organization with a connection to an extra-dimensional demon is gaining power; the gargoyles, whose home we accidentally destroyed, are being exploited and denigrated; there’s a booming drug trade; a serial murderer is at work; we just had an ominous earthquake; people are being jailed for stealing fruit; maimed farmers are begging in the streets; and someone said she’s not even sure that the shrines are around anymore. Surely, Lord British must have something to say about all of this. It was time to head to the castle and get an explanation.          

Face-palm.

          Okay, I’m guilty of a little selective screenshotting here. In truth, Lord British seems to realize–      

You’re not helping.

              No, seriously. When pressed a little bit, Lord British admits that–         

I think I’d advise you to take the Fifth from now on.

         I really am somewhat kidding but, as we’ll soon see, not entirely. The way Lord British is written in both VI and VII is curious. The character has never had a lot of depth, but for many games that was largely due to a sparseness of dialogue inherent in the limitations of the game engines. Here, as in Ultima VI, he has a lot of dialogue, just hardly any that conveys any of the things that we are repeatedly told about Lord British in the game materials. He shows little wisdom, little nobility. He seems bored, unengaged, uninterested. And of course he’s just wrong about many things, including the Fellowship and its founder:           

Really?!

             It’s not like Batlin has been particularly crafty, either. Lord British just isn’t paying attention. Now I’m all for having complex NPCs with flaws, and perhaps it is time to introduce some complexity into the tired trope that TVTropes calls “The Good King.” It just still seems a bit weird that the owner of the company allowed his avatar to be treated this particular way. I’m trying to imagine the meeting at which this dialogue played out:          

Developers: “We think Lord British needs some flaws to balance out his wisdom and nobility.”       Garriott (thinks for a moment): “Make him well-meaning but wrong about everything.”       Developers (nodding): “That’s good.”       Garriott (catching a glimpse of one of the custodians bending over to empty the trash): “Also, maybe he’s boning the domestic help?”       Developers: “Ooh, even better.”       Garriott: “Also, make sure you really put the screws to Electronic Arts again. It’s not like we’re about to sell them the company.”        Everyone: [roars laughter]

         I’ll cover my full dialogue with Lord British (as well as his nighttime proclivities) next time. For now, a few notes about the small things that the developers programmed into the game:

        Double-clicking on a sundial gives you the current time. 

              Not very precise, but still . . .

         Clouds pass overhead and temporarily darken what you can see on the ground. 

You have to be careful walking through or near swamps. The very second your character strays into the swampy terrain, he gets poisoned and glows green. I assume swamp boots prevent this condition.

         A cloud passes overhead, rain falls, the swamp burbles.

          If you double-click on a chair, the Avatar sits there while the entire party tries to find seating nearby. Sometimes it produces comical arrangements.

        Wow, they are really mad that I made them watch that play.

             Double-clicking on a cow causes all the party members to yell, “Moo!” at it. This reminds me of how every time we drive by a field of cows, I’m compelled to roll down the window and yell “Moo!”

           Irene, meanwhile, is compelled to say, “Chet, can we please not this one ti—“

            According to the ledger in Morfin’s shop, the current Britannian year is 360. I can’t remember if specific numbered years have ever come up before. I assume the numbering is from the re-creation of Sosaria into Britannia between Ultima III and IV.

The members of the Fellowship all use the exact same words to describe the organization and its philosophy. At first, I thought this was lazy re-use of dialogue, but now I’m thinking that it’s deliberately meant to suggest that they’re just parroting what they’ve been told.

      It’s not many games that allow you to get 2,500 words out of a couple of hours of walking and dialogue. I’m three entries into The Black Gate, and I’ve still yet to fight a single combat, level up, or do anything that you would expect from an RPG. And yet, the developers have managed to create an intense urgency upon the part of the player to get out there and fix this place. This desire is particularly acute to a repeat visitor–someone who is making the trip to Britannia for the fourth time. I imagine that players who came to the world for the first time in Ultima VII didn’t feel that same angst. They might have enjoyed the game for its plot and mechanics, but lacked the sense that a place they loved was in serious danger.        Well, one thing at a time. Today, the Mystery of the Stolen Venom. Tomorrow, the world.          Time so far: 5 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/the-black-gate-making-britannia-great-again/

[workingontravel]

I never felt before that I don’t want to

You can read this text in Swedish here. I met Maria Salah the first time in Marseille ten years ago, at an exchange meeting for translation of theatre plays. We’ve been acquainted ever since, and have also worked together. A strong reason I wanted to talk with her about travelling is that she is an actor and a director rooted firmly in the world of theatre, rather than in the freelancing dance world that many of the interviews in this project is circling around. In that way, I wanted to offer additional perspectives on life on the road. Our conversation touched on what it is like being employed by a theatre institution that tours both nationally and internationally, with regard to widely different aspects of life – such as separation anxiety, racism and aging. Maria Salah: 
 Before, I thought I didn’t travel much for work. I used to say that I’d only worked outside Stockholm once, in the autumn of 2007 at Örebro regional theatre. And then I might have added, almost in brackets: Yeah, and then I’ve toured four times with Riksteatern (the national touring theatre of Sweden). It’s probably because I have actor friends who have moved much more between different cities than I have. Their change of address makes it obvious that they are gone, and with some of them it’s hard to find the time to meet. But compared to a person based in Stockholm with an ordinary job, I probably have travelled a lot. I got my first theatre job in 1989. Then we went to Bergen, Amsterdam, Brussels and Frankfurt in just a couple of months. I’ve also worked in South Africa – in Grahamstown and Johannesburg – for almost an entire summer. And I’ve been to Paris, Orléans, Marseille, Istanbul, Beijing and many Swedish cities. 

I feel that over time, there has been some change around travel in the theatre world. For example, I believe cooperation between different institutions and organisations in Sweden is increasing, and with that the mobility of actors between different counties. Also, the attitude to flying has changed. People used to fly from Stockholm to any place north of Gävle. Riksteatern is the big touring theatre, and I actually believe that the former managing director there, Måns Lagerlöf, has been instrumental in the organisation’s switch to more train travel. Katta Pålsson, the producer at the national stage Unga Klara, is another example of someone who makes environmental decisions. She decided we should always go by train in Sweden. And it works taking the train nationally. For South Africa and China the alternative is not going. Honestly, I don’t think people in general in the arts are going to refrain from that type of work-related travel unless we have to. We’ll just have a bad conscience, and there’s something coquettish about that. I think you should either refrain from going, or own up to it. Shame never helped much. I could have said it’s against my principles going to South Africa. I didn’t, because I wanted to go there. Though now I’m actually not sure I want to anymore.

For this reason, it’s funny that you’re interviewing me now, of all times. I’ve always loved travelling; I’ve never felt before that I don’t want to. But now I’m there. And I’m really travelling a lot this autumn. We’re going to Johannesburg, Cape Town, Gävle, Sundsvall, Skellefteå, Halmstad, Gothenburg, Malmö, Skara, Helsingborg and New York. I’m really trying to work up an appetite for it, but instead I get tired just thinking about travelling. I don’t want a bad cushion or a bed that’s too soft. I don’t want to have to cope with my fear of germs. I don’t want to sit in the aisle seat of a train worrying about strangers bumping into me. I don’t want to look for a place to eat and miss my grater and my ecological lemons. I don’t want to be at a new venue every time. I don’t want to search for my dressing room or share a toilet with a bunch of other people. I just want to be left alone. Maybe it’s also about getting older. When I was younger, it was wonderful travelling for work, staying in hotels, having hotel breakfasts and seeing new cities. Airports used to be my favourite place. For us who have passports and can move freely, the airport belongs to everyone and no one, and I have felt so full of life when I’m on my way. Now I’m fifty-two and premenopausal. That can trigger anxiety. I’ve always been calm and stable, but now I feel all the impressions are too much for me. On top of that, I’m working with an ensemble where most of the others are in their twenties and thirties. They often want to do different things. I mostly want to find a good place to eat and maybe visit a Lama temple. And even if I have allies in this who understand, I sometimes get lonely and homesick.

I had another period when I also didn’t want to travel. In connection with the attack on World Trade Center in 2001, something happened with the controlling of us who look like people’s idea of Muslims. I didn’t travel abroad in 2001-2008, because I didn’t have the energy to expose myself to that. For me, travelling had always been something positive. My body had been able to go where it wanted, and now I was singled out. In the end, it was theatre that forced me to go. We went to Paris to do a show. After that, I felt I also wanted to go to New York while Barack Obama was president. So, I had to let them take my fingerprints, even though I didn’t like it. And now I’ve also been to China. The security was absurd there. When we went as a group through border control it was okay, but when I was walking alone or together with an even darker colleague, people would turn their heads. On one occasion, a father turned his child’s face to make it look at my colleague. Another time, this man spat after us. The racism was incredibly explicit. I’m not saying it was stronger than here, but it was very openly expressed. I was thinking that what happened there was a more visible version of what goes on beneath the surface all the time here.

Otherwise, the hardest thing about touring for performing arts is being in a group. If there is friction in the group, it’s reinforced when you travel. Usually, everyone goes home, and it’s clear that what you do in the workplace is work. But on a tour, all social choices become charged: Private and professional life easily get mixed up. Who you eat ice-cream with, who you share breakfast table with, who you tell “I’m going to buy water”: Everything can suddenly mean something. Another difficulty is sustaining a traditional text-based theatre performance, especially when the director isn’t there anymore. You can start lagging, breaking up the lines, adding small words: things that disturb the cog wheels of the performance. Some directors don’t see this as a problem. They consider actors taking over as part of the process. But for me, it’s a question of structure and clarity, as well as an aesthetic preference. If we’re not tight together, if I slow down, then everything slows down.

Many directors don’t come to watch after a premiere. Ive made that mistake myself as a director, coming to watch less than the actors would have wanted. I think in connection with every new production everyone should agree on how often the director should come: for his or her own sake, for the sake of the actors and for the sake of the performance – and that everyone should understand that the three different parties might not have the same needs.

From institutions that coordinate tours, I wish they could be more forward-planning in general, as well as having more dialogue and transparency. I wish the ones making decisions could see to the individuals, and understand the complexities of travelling in a group. I would like communication on what is happening, that you ask people what they need. Maybe not all needs can be satisfied, but it’s a good starting point to at least communicate with everyone and take them seriously. The ones making the decisions should be aware that choices of accommodation, transport, venues and number of performances ultimately affect other people’s lives.

I also wish we could talk more about the places we travel to. What is Borlänge now, how long has Borlänge been like that, who are our potential audiences? I don’t think we discuss that enough, and here I think someone needs to take us by the hand and say: “This is also a job and should be carried out within your working hours.” It’s a question of quality, knowing the place you arrive in. If we could think quality instead of quantity for travel, a lot of things would be different.

My mother has been very good at travelling, also with me and my sibling. I think I have my love of moving from both my parents. My father is from a nomadic family in Djibouti. But he left Djibouti and lived in France, Germany, Holland. And my great grandmother was born in Halland, Sweden, but moved to Hamburg in the end of the 19th century. My grandfather was born in Hamburg. He grew up there and my mother and her three sisters where born there. But after the war, they moved to Sweden. I grew up in Råcksta west of Stockholm – suburbs like Vällingby and Hässelby – but I always expected I would live abroad when I grew up.

Immediately after high school, I wanted to study at Sorbonne. I worked and saved up money and I got a grant. My father had a Djiboutian friend in Paris who was to arrange accommodation for me. But it turned out this friend was ashamed about having got divorced and didn’t tell my father, and I couldn’t stay at his place. I had to look for other accommodation, which was expensive. Because of that, my budget and my studying time were halved. Something happened to my trust, then. Ever since, I’ve felt that I need to have a lot of control over things when I’m travelling.

Another important aspect of travel and life is the matter of distance and separation. I have worked for years on coping with my separation anxiety. The funny thing is that I’ve hardly ever been in a relationship with someone where we’ve both lived in the same place the whole time. My first partner was from Stockholm like me, but then I chose to go off to study. My next partner I met eleven days before he was moving to Amsterdam. I was madly in love, but when I went to visit him, I felt miserable afterwards, because I couldn’t stand the distance. So, I shut him out, I could see no other way out. The next person I met was a man who lived in Hamburg. I moved there to see if that would work out, and I almost signed up for a translating course at the university there. But I felt I had to give theatre a chance – in Swedish, which is my language, not German – so I moved back home. For a while, we had a long-distance relationship. It didn’t work out that time either. When I met someone from Stockholm again, I was thinking: What a relief, we’re both going to be here. But after the first half of the relationship, he got a two-year contract in Uddevalla. We actually stayed together for the two years he was away, but I think it still affected us. It ended a couple of months after he came back. 

As a grownup, a friend has helped me a lot with processing this separation thing. He and I have known each other for more than twenty years. I think we spent almost half of that time saying goodbye. Sometimes, I’ve had to say goodbye six, seven times. ”Wait, hello, hi!” Sometimes, I would be the one to leave, and he had to stay, because I didn’t want to be the one left behind. No one has helped me with that before. Now, I feel much freer. With him, I can just go, “Bye bye!” and everything is fine. I don’t experience missing my near ones in the same way anymore. Now, there’s just that hole in my belly in the moment of separation that is agonising. I think it’s connected to the definite; that we know death will come one day.

I think my relationship to separation as a grownup has become that I cut bonds, kind of. That goes for friends as well. There are some people that I really like, but since my profession is so communicative, maybe it enhances my need to be alone. When I meet them I’m happy, and I can enjoy talking with people at a distance, especially with the new technology where you speak face to face. But most of the time, I don’t think so much about the ones I don’t meet. I need a lot of alone time. That makes me feel good.