#the true cost of our food choices

[sidewalkchemistry]

I had to relearn what I knew about protein, and through what I learned, I realized we don't actually need that much protein. There's this overemphasis on protein, particularly animal protein. And what I've learned now, at the end of the day, it's not how much protein you're consuming, but how much you're actually assimilating. Because when you're under this kind of protein spell, which was where I was, I forgot about everything else. I forgot about, you know, what about my antioxidants, what about my fiber? I just did not think of that. - Luke Tan in Let Us Be Heroes - The True Cost of Our Food Choices (2018)

[astroa3h]

Lilith Through the Signs ✨

Let’s talk about Lilith, because she’s that dark, seductive part of your chart that you’re probably a little afraid to look at, but trust me—you need to. In astrology, Lilith shows us the hidden, raw parts of our psyche, the things we suppress or even deny. She’s our wild side, our deepest desires, and sometimes, our untapped rage. Wherever Lilith is in your chart, she brings out this primal energy that cannot be tamed. And let me tell you, she doesn't play nice. You’re going to feel it. If you don’t confront her, she’ll push until you have no choice. 

If Lilith is in Aries, then honey, you’re all about raw, impulsive energy. Lilith in Aries doesn’t ask permission. You fight for independence at any cost, and sometimes, that can mean bulldozing through life without thinking about the consequences. People might call you selfish, but really, you’re just unapologetically you. You struggle with authority and anyone telling you what to do. In relationships, this placement is about the constant power struggle. You want freedom, but you also crave someone who can handle your intensity. Here’s the thing: you have to learn how to channel that fire without burning everything down. Maybe take up martial arts or something that lets you express your aggression in a healthy way.

With Lilith in Taurus, you are drawn to the pleasures of life, the sensual side of things. It’s about indulging—whether that’s in food, sex, or luxury. But here’s the shadow side: you can become possessive, even obsessive, about holding onto what you have. You want security so badly that you might cling to things (and people) that are no longer good for you. This placement craves comfort, but you can get stuck in your comfort zone, unwilling to let go even when it’s time. In your love life, you’ll likely attract relationships that push you to confront your fear of losing what you hold dear. Learn to trust that true security comes from within. You don’t need to hoard it; it’s already yours.

Lilith in Gemini? Oh boy, you are a master of words, and you know exactly how to twist them to get what you want. But watch out, because this placement can make you feel like you’re always wearing a mask. You can say all the right things, but inside, there’s a part of you that feels unseen and unheard. You’ll attract people who are intrigued by your mind, but they might not get the real you. In relationships, it’s all about mental connection, but sometimes you use communication as a weapon. You can be manipulative when you want to be, and if you’re not careful, you’ll push people away with your mind games. The key here? Be honest. Be vulnerable. You’re smart enough to know when someone isn’t on your level, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide behind cleverness.

With Lilith in Cancer, you’re dealing with deep emotional wounds. There’s a part of you that craves nurturing but also resents it at the same time. You might have grown up feeling like you had to be the caretaker, even when you weren’t ready. And now? You have a hard time letting anyone take care of you. You build emotional walls, but inside, you’re yearning for someone to break them down. In relationships, you might sabotage things when they start to feel too safe, because deep down, you’re scared of being abandoned. Your healing comes when you stop looking for that motherly figure in other people and start giving yourself the care you need. You have to learn that vulnerability is not a weakness.

If Lilith is in Leo, girl, you’re the queen—and you know it. You want to be admired, adored, worshipped, but you also fear that you’re never enough. This is a placement where ego and insecurity collide. You want the spotlight, but you’re terrified of what people will see when they look too close. Relationships become about power. You want someone who puts you on a pedestal, but the second they don’t, you’re out. The challenge here is learning that your worth doesn’t depend on external validation. When you own your power without needing applause from the crowd, you’ll find that the right people are drawn to your light.

Lilith in Virgo brings a complicated relationship with control. You strive for perfection in everything, but the more you try to control, the more things slip through your fingers. You might have a tendency to obsess over the details—whether it’s your appearance, your work, or your relationships. But this perfectionism is exhausting. You attract situations where you’re forced to confront the idea that control is an illusion. The real work is in letting go. In love, you might feel like no one is ever good enough for you, or worse, that you’re never good enough. But the truth is, you don’t have to fix anyone, least of all yourself. Your healing comes from accepting the messiness of life.

Lilith in Libra? Oh, this is a tricky one because you want harmony and balance, but deep down, you might feel like you’re constantly at war with yourself. You attract people who reflect your shadow side, and it’s easy to lose yourself in relationships. You want to please others so badly that you forget your own needs, and then you resent them for it. This placement has to learn how to set boundaries and stop giving away power just to keep the peace. In love, you might find yourself drawn to partners who are controlling or manipulative, and it’s because you’re not owning your own power. Stand up for yourself. Relationships are meant to be equal, not a battleground.

If your Lilith is in Scorpio, honey, you’ve got intensity for days. This is one of the most powerful Lilith placements, but it also comes with deep emotional wounds around trust and betrayal. You crave deep, soul-shattering connections, but you’re also terrified of being vulnerable. In love, you attract relationships that push you to confront your darkest fears—jealousy, obsession, control. The challenge for you is to let go of the need to dominate. You’re not going to lose your power by being vulnerable. In fact, true power comes from letting others see the real you, scars and all. The key here is to trust that you won’t be destroyed by love. It’s transformative, not destructive.

Lilith in Sagittarius is about freedom—wild, uncontained freedom. You’re always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, and you can’t stand to be tied down. But here’s the thing: running from commitment isn’t going to fill that void inside. You attract situations where you feel like your wings are being clipped, but it’s because you’re not allowing yourself to fully engage. You might avoid deep connections because you’re afraid they’ll hold you back. In relationships, you crave freedom, but you also want someone who understands your need for independence. Your journey is about finding a way to commit without feeling caged. Trust that you can have both stability and freedom.

If Lilith is in Capricorn, you’re all about power and control. You crave success, but deep down, you fear failure more than anything. You’ll push yourself to the brink just to prove you’re worthy, but this placement often comes with a deep sense of insecurity. You might feel like no matter how much you achieve, it’s never enough. In relationships, you attract people who challenge your need for control, and it forces you to confront the fact that true success isn’t about power—it’s about vulnerability. Learn to let go of the idea that you have to be the one in control all the time. It’s okay to let someone else take the lead. You’ll find that it makes you stronger, not weaker.

With Lilith in Aquarius, you’re the rebel. You don’t like being told what to do, and you’re always pushing against the grain. But this can also make you feel like an outsider, like you don’t belong. You attract relationships where you feel like you have to sacrifice your individuality, but deep down, you know that’s not the answer. Your challenge is to find a way to be in a relationship without losing yourself. Don’t be afraid to stand out. The world needs your unique vision. In love, you might push people away because you’re afraid of being controlled, but real freedom comes from allowing yourself to be fully seen.

Finally, Lilith in Pisces is a placement of deep emotional sensitivity. You feel everything, and sometimes, that can be overwhelming. You might have a tendency to escape through fantasy or avoidance because reality feels too harsh. But this placement also gives you incredible intuition. You attract relationships where you feel like you’re drowning in emotions, and it can be hard to find your footing. The key here is to set boundaries—emotional boundaries. You don’t have to take on other people’s pain as your own. Your healing comes when you learn to stay grounded in reality while still honoring your deeply spiritual side. Embrace your empathy, but don’t let it consume you.

Blessings,

Ash ✨

Get your own reading at astroash.net

[gottawritesomething]

List of Current Works

One Shots:

- Sweet -

Chase Me - Gale and Tav cast illusion magic for the kids at the Grove

Cooking Lessons - Tav tries to help Gale with cooking, very briefly

Inspirational - Gale has an interesting dream about Tav. Tiny bit smutty.

Treat the Bite - Gale treats Tav's owlbear nip. He did warn her...

- Upsetting -

A God's Folly - Two scenes of a deeply dysfunctional relationship between God Gale and Tav (P1 / P2)

She was chosen - Gale only just stops himself from ending the brain at Moonrise

Into the Vault - Scene from Karsus’s vault leading into Act 3 Romance scene

Long Form

Pride cometh before the Fall - Wild Magic Sorcerer/Gale before the orb. He's prideful, she is unreliable. Certainly some kind of match. Tag #TornPages is their shipname

Banner piece below is by the wildly talented @nikoadmeliora, link for his coms page.

My soul is in the sky - A prideful, brash pre-orb Gale meets an equally troublesome Wild Magic Sorcerer

Cry 'Havoc!' - Isabel breaks into Gale's tower, to prove she can

If music be the food of love play on - Two months since Gale and Isabel have seen each other, they're quite bad at this

Reason and love keep little company together nowadays - Failing to get tea and fighting cultists instead

To die upon the hand I love so well - Jealous and distressed Gale (my favorite chapter, if you're only going to read one, read this)

The course of true love never did run smooth - Some of Gale's time with Mystra... then the orb

I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell - First treatment of the orb and some of the consequences of Gale's choices

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet - Gale finds out the cost of the orb, and they have a talk about feelings, finally.

Though she be but little, she is fierce - An argument and Gale tries to remember what he liked about mortal 'love'

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together - Horny and arguing

Come what come may - Orb's symptom's worsen, and they prepare for a journey

My soul is in the sky - A prideful, brash pre-orb Gale meets an equally troublesome Wild Magic Sorcerer

Cry 'Havoc!' - Isabel breaks into Gale's tower, to prove she can

If music be the food of love play on - Two months since Gale and Isabel have seen each other, they're quite bad at this

Reason and love keep little company together nowadays - Failing to get tea and fighting cultists instead

To die upon the hand I love so well - Jealous and distressed Gale (my favorite chapter, if you're only going to read one, read this)

The course of true love never did run smooth - Some of Gale's time with Mystra... then the orb

I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell - First treatment of the orb and some of the consequences of Gale's choices

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet - Gale finds out the cost of the orb, and they have a talk about feelings, finally.

Though she be but little, she is fierce - An argument and Gale tries to remember what he liked about mortal 'love'

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together - Horny and arguing

Come what come may - Orb's symptom's worsen, and they prepare for a journey

Coming Soon

A Fair Trade

Another Chapter of Pride

[dailyanarchistposts]

The following are suggestions for direct action organizing. These are meant as guidelines—feel free to improvise process as necessary.

Direct action utilizes hands-on intervention to directly challenge hierarchies. By using spectacle to expose hypocrisies, direct action terrorizes the status quo and revitalizes public space. In the process, it builds a delicious and defiant culture of resistance. Direct action encourages people to push the boundaries of acceptable behavior in order to create new possibilities for organizing, self-determination and activism.

Why non-hierarchical organizing?

In this country we are encouraged to think that voting is a participatory act of “democratic” choice, when in reality it means that a majority controls the agenda. Non-hierarchical organizing means that everyone participates in the process. Though there may be other models for non-hierarchical organizing, we have found consensus to be the most effective.

Consensus Process

Consensus means everyone comes to agreement before any decision can be made. In order for meetings to run as smoothly as possible, at the beginning of each meeting, someone volunteers to facilitate. The facilitator compiles a list of agenda items at the start of the meeting, keeps track of who wants to speak, calls on speakers, makes sure speakers stay on topic and keeps the agenda moving. After a proposal for action and a discussion of this proposal, the facilitator calls for consensus when a decision seems imminent; this involves asking who is in favor, who objects and who abstains. If there are any objections, the group formulates alternate proposals until consensus can be reached. Some groups have a formal process for tallying abstentions in order to decide if a proposal should be revisited. In the case of GAY SHAME, we have found that consensus occurs remarkably easily, since we have worked through our common politics and we discuss issues extensively prior to calling for consensus. We only use the more formal consensus process in the case of extreme disagreement.

If someone believes that a decision close to consensus is contradictory to the goals of the action or group, that person can block consensus. In the case of GAY SHAME, this has only happened one time in our four-year history. Of course, consensus decisions may always be revisited in the future. Usually, though, it’s all flower power and SSRIs here at GAY SHAME.

There are many different effective models for creating consensus-- feel free to share your strategies with us.

Working It Out

If you know people who share common goals, politics and strategies then contact them to arrange a time/place to meet and brainstorm ideas for a call to plan an action. If you don’t know anyone else who shares your politics, skip to step 2.

Make a call to plan an action: including a purpose/target (for example, GAY SHAME’s all to challenge the rabid consumerist monster that is corporate pride).

Create regular, free, public, accessible, meeting time and space (for example, GAY SHAME started meeting in a café with a lot of empty meeting space, now we meet in the back room of a sympathetic bookstore). Assume that all meetings are being surveilled by law enforcement and concerned citizens and plan separate spaces for organizing covert aspects of actions.

Fundraising is No Fun

True, the world is run on money and that does not exclude your direct action, but it is important to figure out ways to avoid spending money in order to further your critique of capitalism. Many people have boring day jobs that give them access to many useful resources, such as: paint, paper, markers, copies, food, etc. Borrowing, stealing and sharing can build relationships that grant writing, silent auctions and walk-a-thons never can. As a last resort, if you must shell out money then try to figure out ways to best distribute the costs.

Should You Approach the Media?

The mainstream media will probably not be on your side, especially when you’re doing something that actually challenges the existing power structure that controls most media outlets. Always remember that the mainstream media consists of corporate hacks, vultures and ghouls all vying for a chance to exploit you into your grave. Therefore, it is important to discuss early on whether you want to approach the mainstream media at all, and if so, how to ensure that your message gets across, if at all possible. Also, discuss alternative media such as “progressive” newspapers, pirate or non-commercial radio, “public” television, indymedia or any other options that may or may not be better than the corporate crap. Of course, you can also make your own media (take this web site, for example).

[cherryrainn]

can u write greedler angst where the reader tries to change him but he chooses money over the reader and doesn’t realize till it’s too late??? way too specific but i don’t see enough onceler/greedler angst 😓😓

chances by the strokes kinda fits this

thank you!! i love your writing sm 🫶🏼

I LOVE ANGST IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS AND THANK YOU SM

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— chances

onceler (greedler) x reader

song link; click here

the once-charming onceler had transformed into a cold-hearted businessman, obsessed with wealth and power. you couldn't bear to see him lose himself to greed, so you made it your mission to change him, to remind him of the kind-hearted person he used to be.

you dedicated countless hours and poured your heart into your efforts, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself. you shared stories of compassion and selflessness, trying to rekindle the spark of empathy within him. but despite your best intentions, it seemed as if the more you tried, the deeper he delved into his obsession.

you believed that your love could conquer his greed, that he would eventually realize what truly mattered. but as time went on, it became clear that your presence had little effect on him. he grew distant, consumed by his pursuit of wealth, and you found yourself fading into the background of his life.

one fateful evening, you finally confronted him, your voice tinged with desperation. "onceler, please listen to me. this isn't who you are. there's more to life than money. don't you see how it's tearing us apart?"

he glanced at you, his eyes clouded with indifference. "money is power, darling. it's what i've always needed. i can't let anything, including you, stand in the way of that."

his words struck you like a knife, the pain slicing through your heart. you had hoped for a breakthrough, for a glimpse of the man you had fallen in love with, but instead, you faced the brutal reality of his priorities.

tears welled up in your eyes as you stepped back, your voice shaking. "i can't believe you would choose money over us, over our love. i thought you were better than this."

he watched you with an empty gaze, unmoved by your anguish. "love won't put food on the table, won't secure my future. money will. and i won't let sentimentality stand in the way."

unable to bear the weight of his indifference any longer, you turned away, the pain of his rejection tearing through you. "i thought i could change you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "but it looks like i cant compete with your... shit..."

days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. the void left by his absence weighed heavily on your heart. you rebuilt your life, mending the pieces of your shattered soul, but the pain still lingered.

then, one day, you received news—a rumor that onceler had finally achieved unimaginable wealth, his empire expanding beyond measure. the world celebrated his success, but you couldn't help but feel a bitter ache within your chest.

it was in that moment, as you reflected on the choices he had made, that you realized the true cost of his greed. he had sacrificed the love and connection that once brought him joy, traded it for a hollow existence of material wealth. and though it was too late for him to realize his mistake, you found solace in knowing that you had fought for what truly mattered—the depth of human connection and the power of love.

months passed, and you had moved on, building a life filled with genuine connections and the warmth of love. you had found happiness, though the scars from your time with onceler still lingered.

then, one unexpected day, a familiar figure stood before you. onceler, his once-charismatic smile now worn and weary, looked at you with regretful eyes. the months of pursuing money had taken their toll, leaving him with an empty heart.

"i was blind," he said, his voice laced with remorse. "blinded by my own desires, too blind to see the value of what i had with you. i was wrong, and i lost everything."

you regarded him silently, emotions stirring within you—pain, forgiveness, and a glimmer of hope. "i tried to make you see," you said softly. "but you chose a path that led you away..."

he nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. "i understand now, though it's too late. i let go of the most precious thing in my life."

the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. you couldn't deny the lingering affection you held for him, the memories that had once brought you joy. but wounds take time to heal, and trust needs to be earned.

"i hope you find the peace you're searching for," you said, your voice filled with a bittersweet tenderness. "but i've moved on, onceler. i've found my own happiness, one that doesn't rely on wealth and possessions."

as you turned away, walking towards the life you had rebuilt, you couldn't help but wonder if he would ever truly understand the magnitude of his choices, the depth of the love he had forsaken. and as you left him behind, you vowed to cherish the lessons learned.

[awesome-normal-heroes]

Defending the Pink Princesses with Grey Mortality:

Some people like to give Princess Bubblegum and Rose Quartz such a hard time.

But why on earth is that?

Sure, they did morally messed up things, but so did the other characters in their shows.

So, why are these pink ladies given the most grief over their mistakes?

I think I know why.

It's because people expect them both to be perfect.

But the sad truth is that nobody is perfect, not even our favorite characters.

But I also understand that learning the characters you like ended up doing messed up things can mess with your own head.

Princess Bubblegum was originally Finn's love interest (even though Finn is 12 and she's 18... why?) and she was a sweet person, despite some of her mad scientist quirks.

But when Finn got a new love interest (Flame Princess), the writers decided to change Bubblegum's personality quite a bit.

They slowly made Bubblegum into a control freak that spies on everyone and she isn't quite as warm as she used to be.

...Yeah, even I didn't like that the writers did to her sometimes.

But to be fair, the fantasy world that they live in is a dangerous place (in even rains swords sometimes) and the candy people are literally at the bottom of the food chain. Most of the candy people are not the brightest people, with only a select few actually being smart (like Peppermint Butler). Also, candy people explode when they get too scared.

It's no wonder she's so viciously overprotective and controlling.

She also had no true parents and basically raised herself and her brother, so she doesn't know better about certain things.

And unlike others shows that would most likely sugarcoat or ignore a main character's flaws and mistakes, some of the other characters are aware of how messed up Bubblegum has become.

Later on, Bubblegum gets called out for her mistakes a few times and she even get punished when she temporarily loses her kingdom.

And when she gets it back, she gets better and less controlling.

You gotta give her credit for that.

She isn't perfect, she makes mistakes, but she's trying to improve herself for all her loved ones.

At the end of the day, she just wants to protect her people and the kingdom that she created, because their world is a silly yet dangerous place and most of her kingdom is dim-witted.

Meanwhile, Rose Quartz aka Pink Diamond was originally seen as Steven's perfect heroic deceased mother that everyone in his family loved.

But like Bubblegum, her flaws and mistakes are slowly revealed to us, showing us that she's not as perfect as her loved ones think she is.

She is smart, but not very wise.

She doesn't think about how certain choices can cause possible consequences in the future.

She also has a tendency to ditch people (Diamonds, Crystal Gems, Spinel) and keep secrets from them.

Steven even begins to kinda resent her.

Especially after the Pink Diamond plot twist.

Which I'm not a big fan of.

But to be fair, she was raised and surrounded by evil gems.

So, it makes sense that she's not the most moral or wisest person sometimes.

I'm just saying that considering her messed-up life before coming to Earth and how she was raised, she could have turned out a lot worse.

At the end of the day, she did save the Earth and wanted to protect the humans.

Plus, she's already technically dead, so there's not much that can be done about her anyway.

And I think that the true reason Rose had Steven at the cost of her life is so that the Crystal Gems can finally have a proper bond with a human being and understand why Rose cares about them.

Because the Crystal Gems didn't have any actual human friendships, before Steven arrived (except maybe Amethyst).

They protected the Earth because that's what Rose wanted.

But Steven helped the Gems finally connect with humanity.

Both pink ladies have done horrible things, but they've also done wonderful things as well... Shouldn't that count for something?

[justinewt]

To Choose Who Lives And Who Dies - THE 100 REWRITE Chapter Thirty-One

[THE 100 MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: Bellamy and Michelle had made a choice that sealed the fate of hundreds of their people, only making possible for 100 of them to survive inside Alpha station, but Clarke chose to keep their people in the dark, doing the exact same thing Jaha had done on the Ark. Everyone worked hard on fixing the ship, unaware that most of them wouldn't survive the radiation coming their way. Raven, Clarke and Bellamy argued over this for days and when they found Jaha trying to leave camp with the rover, they confront him, and he claims he has a lead - a way to ensure the salvation of all 500 of them, but is it another one of his whims that will cost people's lives? As were Mount Weather and Alie?

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: The 100 season 4 spoilers (episode 3 "The Four Horsemen"), title from a quote from the book Storm Siren by Mary Weber, angst, heart to heart, grief

Everyone was working hard to get the ship ready for the radiation, the black rain and everything that was yet to come their way. They made a choice when they decided to free their people from the Azgedan and they were now over 500 people in Arkadia, all while the ship, even fully fixed and prepared, would only sustain a little over a hundred people, as Raven said. Michelle wasn’t the only one to now realize that for the sake of a few, they comdemned 400 of their people and Clarke didn’t tell any of them, to use their hope as fuel for their determination to get the ship ready. Raven was mad about it and Michelle did feel responsible for it because she chose to make this choice, with Bellamy. He wasn’t the only one to blame. When the others had all voted, they looked at each other knowing they would follow whatever choice the other made and Michelle wanted to help them, and he did too. She wondered, if she had chosen the opposite, to bring back the hydrogenator, if he would have followed her call. He most likely would have, to be honest, but she didn’t. And neither did he.

“Two meals a day for people working as hard as ours, we won’t make any friends.” Bellamy said as they walked into the room. Raven was standing on the last step of a ladder, her back to them, blowtorch in hand as she repaired the structure of the ship. Clarke was pushing a full cart in front of her.

“Well, if there’s one thing our people understand, it’s rationing.” Clarke declared. It was true, with what they had to do on the Ark, it would make sense for them to understand the urgency of the situation. Michelle helped as they put away the plastic pockets of vacuum-packed food on the shelves. “Besides, once we close those doors, it’ll be one meal for the next 5 years.”

“Try one meal every other day.” Raven lifted her protective mask and turned towards them. She stepped down from the ladder and took it off. She was very much, and understandably, still bitter regarding their choice about the hydro generator, and the fact Clarke chose to lie to everyone. “Hunting parties are coming back with less and less. Thanks to your friend Niylah, we’re preserving more meat than ever, but it’s still not enough. Without a way to make water, growing our own protein like we did on the ark is not an option.” She stuffed her mask in Bellamy’s hand as she spoke. “Remember that when we’re starving.”

“I won’t be starving because I won’t be inside.” Michelle instantly looked up at him, frowning. Thoughts raced through her head, and she parted her lips, but she said nothing.

“Yes, you will.” Clarke was about as confused and as against it as she was. Michelle subtly shook her head – no, she wouldn’t let him sacrifice himself to make up for the decision he made. She made it with him. If he stayed outside the ship, she would too, and she quickly realized, as she thought about it, that her father would never let her die but if she stayed alive, Bellamy had to stay alive as well, otherwise how was she supposed to just go on with her life after basically letting him kill himself. It would be just like when she almost lost her father. She would never have been able to go on with her life. There were only three people whose deaths would destroy her – her father, Clarke, and Bellamy. When Clarke was away, she survived thanks to her father, and the thought that Clarke was alive.

“Does that mean you made the list?” Raven enquired.

“No. What about drinking water?”

“Clarke, don’t change the subject. We need to know who’s gonna be on the inside of these doors when the radiation comes.” Bellamy and Michelle were both watching them talk from the corner of their eyes as they kept on putting away the food, but she would have a chat with Bellamy later.

“We don’t need to know now.” The conversation was cut short when a voice came over the PA system. Sick people were at the camp’s gate. The four of them rushed outside and at the gate, the guards were holding a bunch of grounders at gunpoint, warning them not to come any closer. Bellamy, Clarke, Michelle and Raven broke through the small crowd and the line of guards to see what this was about. They recognized one of the grounders, Nyko, as he put a little girl on the ground. Two others were bent forward, on their knees, coughing. Michelle squinted her eyes, looking at the woman. Her long, dark red hair reminded her of someone else’s and as Clarke slowly walked up to them, she realized it was Luna.  

“What if it’s a grounder attack like they did with Murphy?” Miller wondered, wary. Michelle shook her head.

“No, that’s not it. Bellamy, look, it’s Luna.” She patted his arm with the back of her fingers and pointed at the woman. He wasn’t sure as they couldn’t see her face, but she recognized her hair and was convinced it was the grounder from the oil rig, though her hair was less voluminous than it was then, and dirtier. She and Bellamy followed Clarke as she walked up to them.

“What happened to them?” She asked.

“The sickness. We lost more than 40 on the way.” The woman she thought was Luna coughed, lifting her head slightly and Bellamy finally saw it was actually her.

“Luna?”

“See? I knew it was her.” Luna looked up at them, weakly. She looked beyond exhausted and drained of all her energy. She exchanged a gaze with Michelle, probably wondering how she recognized her, but she then looked at Clarke.

“Please, don’t turn us away because of what I did to you.” Clarke didn’t say anything, turning to her friends next to her. Abby then arrived, joining them outside the gate. She put a cloth over her mouth and nose, just in case, but quickly took it off and got to her knees to take a close look at the little girl in Nyko’s arms. Clarke kneeled beside her while the others watched.

“Mom, what is this?”

“Fever, lesions, vomiting. It’s ARS.”

“What’s ARS?” Bellamy asked, really speaking for all of them as none, aside from Clarke maybe, knew what she was talking about.

“Acute radiation sickness.” He, Raven and Michelle all exchanged a glance as Clarke stood up.

“When did the symptoms start?”

“I’m not sure. Right before the fish started dying.” Luna said.

“The fishs are dying?” Raven spoke. If animals were dying, this meant less food for everyone.

“Floating on the sea to the horizon in every direction.” Nyko added.

“It’s not contagious. Let’s get them to Medbay. Come on.” Abby helped them up and Raven went with her and the grounders. Clarke went next to Bellamy and Michelle, who had kneeled next to a young woman lying on the ground.

“It’s already here.” Neither of them said anything else to Clarke’s statement. It was grave enough. What Alie had warned them about, the nuclear power plants melting and the radiation and everything coming, was already there. It it had hit the oil rig out on the ocean, it was but a short flight for land. Michelle immidietaly thought of her father still in Polis and pulled her eyebrows closer in worry, staring at the ground, hoping he would come back to Arkadia before it reached the city. 

In Medbay, the sick grounders were getting worse, barely moving from their beds. Clarke was further in the room, with her mother and Jackson, discussing their state and possible treatments. Bellamy and Michelle walked in, looking around. She winced in disgust at the sight of Luna vomiting black blood into a bucket and frowned worriedly as she reached for a cloth and approached to give it to her once she was done. It was quite painful to see her like this. It didn’t matter that they weren’t close to her. Michelle felt Bellamy standing just a few inches behind her and his hand gently finding her shoulder.

“You think I deserve this for refusing the flame?”

“No.” Michelle replied, a mere second after Luna spoke. “No one deserves to suffer.”

“Besides, this would’ve happened anyway.” Bellamy added. Clarke came to see them.

“This is all that’s left of my people. Can you save them?”

“We’ll do everything we can. You have my word.” They took a few steps away when she coughed again, to talk, just the three of them. “Tell me something good.”

“Raven’s looking for us.” He walked back to the door, his hand sliding down as he let go of Michelle’s arm and they left the infirmary to go find Raven. She brought them to the computer screens and one of them showed a map, with dashed lines linking the rig to Arkadia and Polis.

“So, Luna’s rig is here, and if the fish in these waters are dying, well basically we’re screwed.”

“I don’t understand. Alie said we had 6 months.” Hands on his hips, he looked at the screen with a subtle frown.

“We don’t.”

“Well, then how long do we have?” Clarke wondered.

“It’s hard to say. Radiation is dispersed by jet stream and carried by ocean currents, so it’s not an exact science, but the leading indicators are small species die-offs — fish, insects. Based on the new data, I’d say we have… Two months of survivability…” Clarke looked defeated as she turned her head towards Bellamy and Michelle, and they seemed just as stunned. “Maybe less.”

“The ark won’t be ready.” He said quietly, shaking his head.

“It’ll be close. If we triple the man hours and work round the clock, we should be able to achieve a hard seal before the black rain comes. We just have to decide who gets to live here.”

“Raven, we’re not talking about the list again.”

Michelle sighed, “We have to talk about it.”

“Yes. Michelle’s right, Clarke. We are running out of time. We have to make a plan for the day we close the doors, drill for it, make sure only the survivors have guns, agree on protocols for dealing with the people who are pissed off they’re not chosen. You asked me to be in charge of rationing, and I’m doing it, but choosing who gets to live or die is your speciality.” As she was about to respond, the sound of the Rover’s engine reached their ears and she turned around, glancing over her shoulder. As Raven then added, no one was scheduled to take the rover. They walked briskly in the corridors and exited through the hangar’s doors. The SUV was right outside. Jaha was inside. Bellamy knocked on the driver’s side door, ordering the old chancellor to get out of the vehicle and opened the door.

“I need to make a run.”

Raven took a step forward, “All supply go through me, and you shouldn’t be working on the patch to sector 5?” Bellamy gave a nod to the side motioning for him to get out. Jaha stepped out of the rover and the door was slammed behine him.

“A patch for a ship that can only save a hundred people? Why are you surprised? I am an engineer. We have no way to generate water. The harder number is 400. Can you really sentence 400 more of our own people to death?”

“We don’t have a choice.” She exclaimed. They glanced over their shoulders at the people working nearby. They were looking at them after hearing her raise her voice at Jaha and quickly looked away.

“What if you do? What if I told you there might be a fallout shelter less than a day’s drive from here – a fallout shelter built to sustain thousands?”

“What if it’s like Mount weather or your fucking city of light? Both were your ideas, and they were terrible ideas – hundreds died.” Michelle spoke crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at Jaha.

“We’ve been through the chancellor’s file anyway. All the bunkers you considered for the hundred were listed as compromised or unviable, and now Mount Weather is too.” His eyes went from Michelle to Raven.

“Those were government bunkers.” He turned back around and opened the driver’s side door but instead of it being to get back into the vehicle, he handed something to Clarke. A notepad showing an article.

“A doomsday cult?” Bellamy read as Clarke swiped right to look at the other articles on there.

“That’s right – the second dawn.”

“They built a bunker?” She took her eyes off the small screen.

“Their whole theology was based on riding out the end of the world.

“And why didn’t you consider it?” Raven enquired. Michelle listened and looked at the notepad as Clarke read and swiped. There were lots of articles on this.

“We couldn’t prove it existed.”

“So why are you considering it now?” Bellamy wasn’t the only one of them to be doubtful of his intentions with this new plan of his. They were all distrustful of him after all that happened because of him.

“Because before now, we didn’t need it.”

“You found it, didn’t you?” He looked around before answering Clarke.

“We can’t be sure unless we check it out.” And on that he wasn’t wrong, and Michelle looked to the side, annoyed, her arms crossed in the same fashion as Raven’s. Both were reluctant to listen to the man. Michelle even more so. He did put her in solitary confinement when all she ever did ‘wrong’ was being Clarke’s best friend and knowing something she shouldn’t have known and for that she was then as much of a danger as Clarke was. And she was a pretty defiant teenager back on the ark. It was a known fact that she often talked back to her mom and though she wasn’t the kid she used to be anymore, she still heavily disliked Jaha and if he happened to be in a life-or-death kind of situation, she already knew she would let him die. While she was thinking, she heard Raven and Clarke argue. Raven wasn’t about to let Jaha take the rover.

“We need that rover for hauling pieces of a 3-ton patch we’re build—” She was cut off mid-sentence.

“Yeah, but if he’s right, we don’t need a patch.”

“Can I talk to you guys for a second?” They stepped aside to speak in private, out of Jaha’s earshot. “Can you, Michelle, please remind Clarke what happened the last time Jaha went looking for salvation, as you’ve already mentioned, in case Clarke wasn’t listening?”

Michelle sighed through her nose, letting her arms fall to her side, glancing at Jaha from the corner of her eyes, not so sure anymore of what to say, though she perfectly knew what Raven was referring to – what she had said about the city of light killing hundreds of people because of Jaha’s whim. She didn’t say anything this time and Bellamy spoke in her stead.

“Raven, if that bunker is real, we can save a lot more than a hundred people.”

“If it’s not, we’ve lost another day.”

“Hey, look. If it’s not, I’ll make the list… Okay?”

She sighed, glaring at the three of them, “Do what you want. I’ve got a ship to seal.” They watched her leave before turning to Jaha. This time, Michelle was the one glaring while Bellamy took his place in the driver’s seat, and they sat in the back and drove out of camp. Clarke was in the passenger seat at the front with Bellamy and Michelle was especially unhappy to have to sit across from Jaha, her arms crossed as she leaned back. Clarke watched the video linked on an article and the voice of a man doing a presentation on a stage rose from the notepad.

“The end is coming, and it’s coming soon.”

“He gave this speech two weeks before the bombs.” Jaha said. Michelle slightly lifted her head to look over the seat and Clarke’s shoulder at the screen, the man speaking was the founder of this Second dawn thing, shoulder-length hair and a beard, he kind of reminded her of how her father looked with his beard and hair too, but in black.

“The world is dark and getting darker all the time. Everything we once trusted has turned on us — government, religion. Even technology has become a weapon in their hands used to poison our minds. I know you’re in pain. I know you’re afraid, but it doesn’t have to be like this. There is a way out of the darkness. I can show it to you. You can be saved. Join us, and together, when the horsemen come, from the ashes, we will rise.”

Clarke handed it back to him, “Please tell me you have more than this.”

“In the two years before the bombs, Cadogan sold off most of the second dawn’s real estate holdings, generating tens of millions of dollars, but there was one thing he didn’t sell.” Michelle had seen him swipe a couple times across the pad’s screen before giving it back to Clarke to show her something else. Michelle leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. “I found this in his autobiography. His father built a bunker there to save his family. I think Cadogan used the church’s money to expand it.”

“Grew up there. Maybe he kept it for sentimental value.” Bellamy figured.

Jaha quietly chuckled through his nose, “Hmm. His father beat him almost daily in that house. He hated living there.”

“Why keep it if you’re liquidating everything else?” Clarke wondered.

“Because that bunker is there. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, maybe it’s there. Doesn’t mean we can use it. It was a century ago. And we’ve been on the ground for almost half a year – if there were survivors like in Mount weather we would’ve known by now.”

“Maybe not survivors, but the bunker is there.”

She shot up her eyebrows, rolling her eyes, and repeated herself under her breath, “doesn’t mean we can survive there.”

“She’s not wrong. And the guy sounds like a religious fanatic to me.” Bellamy spoke.

“Maybe, or maybe he was just a leader willing to do whatever it took to save his people.”

“Like you, you mean?” Michelle chuckled but she wasn’t smiling, not even a smirk. She was glaring at him, slouching back, in the shadow of Clarke’s seat, arms still crossed, gripping tighly on each other. He locked eyes with her. She wasn’t one to speak much or initiate conflicts, but she couldn’t help but speak her mind and try to get into an argument with him though she knew beforehand that he would keep his composure easily and anger her. She felt as though she was 15 or 16 again and getting back at her mom for something she said or not wanting to tell her about her dad yet again. There were only few people whom she held a grudge against, and Jaha was the only one still alive. She had forgiven her mother months ago, same with her father and Pike was dead and she couldn’t care less about him. But Jaha was still annoying her with his presence. He let out another of his chuckles and she frowned.

“You hate me. I understand.” Her frown went from one of anger to one of confusion and she squinted her eyes, wondering what made him think he could understand her one bit. But his tone of voice aggravated her. He sounded as though she was still the kid he had locked up.

“Don’t patronize me, Jaha.” She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw. Neither Bellamy nor Clarke said anything for now, looking at them through the rearview mirror. “Your mistake is that you think you understand. But you’re right – I do hate you.”

“I am sorry.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot of things to be sorry for.” She wasn’t buying it and wouldn’t accept his apology even if it were genuine and sincere. She wouldn’t accept any apology from him because she didn’t care about him and his words were of no value to her. She didn’t like him on the Ark, and she despised him on the ground. She never respected him, and he was smart enough to know it.

“I know.” He nodded, glancing at his hands joined at his knees as he leaned forward. “I want to apologize for a lot of things.”

“Save your breath.” She looked away, losing interest in talking to him. He began with apologizing for how the city of light events turned out and she pursed her lips, staring at the car’s back door. “You forced my dad to take the chip.” He was about to say something, and she knew he would find an excuse for himself, so she continued. “It was your choice to do what you did – your choice to take the chip. I saw his hands. You tortured him to make him take the chip.

“I am sorry, Michelle.” She finally crossed his gaze again. Her eyes were shining slightly, gradually getting teary as she spoke through her gritted teeth, trying to contain herself.

“I almost killed my dad, because he was under Alie’s control and almost— almost killed Bellamy. I picked up a fucking metal bar and almost bashed my father’s head in.” Her nostrils flared and she swallowed harshly. “You saw how Octavia stabbed Pike, at the end? If my dad was dead, I would have killed you too. My mother’s gone – I couldn’t have lost him too.” Her voice got quieter as she looked away. “It's not even been 5 months since I found out he’s my father.”

“Callie didn’t want you to know.” She instantly turned her face back to him. Her facial features were no longer so tense.

“You knew?” She asked, almost whispering.

“Most of us – at the council – did. Those close to your mother. But it was her choice not to tell you that Marcus was your father. It was obvious to us.”

“I’m aware that Abby knew but— the whole council?”

“Yes.” He finally admitted and Michelle’s facial expression was now overtaken by the shock. She had no idea that over a dozen people knew that Kane was her father the whole time, and that none of them ever cared enough to tell her when all she had ever wanted, ever since she was a kid, was to know her father. It was the cause of so much tension and so many disputes with her mother when she was a teenager. It could have all been avoided if she hadn’t been lied to her whole life. She wouldn’t have been too mad if Abby had been the only one to know – she was her mother’s best friend after all – but finding out that almost every single adult around her knew. She was so stunned she didn’t even know how to react to this. She shook her head, her arms uncrossing. She asked herself a question she had already asked herself before – if Kane actually knew or not. She didn’t exactly remember what Abby said to this. Maybe he knew but didn’t want to face it, or rather couldn’t face it. Or he really didn’t. Either way, she had forgiven him anything he might have done wrong, and they worked on their relationship and as she thought about this, she realized that their relationship got so good and close-knitted because he was alive, allowing them to talk things through.

And she also came to the realization that she had lied to herself – she hadn’t fully forgiven her mother and she was one of the dead people she still held somewhat of a grudge against, and she hated herself because it would always be this way because her mother was dead and they could never discuss all this face to face, and it was eating at her. She hated herself for not being able to just let it go and forgive her mother, because she loved her so much. She hadn’t realized that as she got lost in her thoughts, the rover had gotten silent. Her lips quivered and she squinted her eyes as tears flooded them. He spoke again and she glared at him through her tears and told him to shut up, eventually raising her voice at him and storming out of the moving car. She heard Bellamy swear and call out to her as she hopped off through the backdoor, almost losing her balance as she landed on the ground and she walked away with a brisk step, wiping the tears that had rolled down her cheeks and trying to keep the rest of them from falling. She could hear that the car had stopped behind her and though she walked quickly, Bellamy reached her even quicker, jogging towards her. He had called her names quite a few times, but she hadn’t responded. It wasn’t that she deliberately wanted to ignore him, but she just couldn’t respond.

“I can walk back.” She insisted. He grabbed her arms and drew her into a tight hug as she broke into tears. She tried to apologize for wasting their time with this, but he dismissed it and she cried, resting her cheek against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, her hands gripping onto his jacket like claws. What she had just found out had made her feel like everyone around her had been taking her for a fool for her entire life and she felt disabused. He rubbed her back to comfort her and gently cradled her head, bringing strands of hair behind her ear. In this moment there was only one other thing that she wanted most. Her voice was shaking, broken with sobs, “I want to see my dad.”

“I know.” He felt for her, but unfortunately, he couldn’t really say anything else, because he couldn’t assure her that she would seem him soon. All he could do was support her as he did in this moment. They returned to the rover a minute later. Clarke was standing outside the vehicle, by the passenger’s door and she came up to them, giving a compassionate look to her childhood best friend.

“Ignore Jaha, okay? Take my seat. I’ll go in the back.” She walked around the car while Michelle took her place in the passenger seat, arms crossed as she slumped in the seat, bringing her legs to her chest and letting her knee lean against the door. Bellamy got in as Jaha quietly apologized again and he told him off.

“Shut up, Jaha. You’ve talked enough.” Michelle didn’t even look at him from the corner of her eyes. She stared straight ahead of her through the windshield and Bellamy started the car again. They drove through the thick forest until night fell, a few hours later. Jaha turned on a flashlight and if not for the spotlights at the front of the car, it would be totally pitch-black outside. They could barely see anything anyway. He stopped the rover, and they got out, sweeping the area with their flashligths.

“Cadogan learned how to survive from his father.” Jaha said. “They hunted in these woods.” He held up the tablet, lining up the pitcute of the house and trees with the background. “This is it.”

“Well, if anyone’s entitled to a lucky break, we are.” Bellamy declared.

“You hear that?” They all looked at him, not hearing anything and it was exactly what he wanted them to hear. There were no insects. Except he had no idea what it actually meant and he immidietaly saw the way the three of them looked at each other with worry. “What?”

“Luna said the fish were dying.” Clarke told him.

“What are the things that eat the fish and bugs gonna eat now?” Bellamy wondered.

“What happened to us deserving a lucky break?” They kept on walking. “So, what are we looking for?”

“The bunker would have been at the lowest point.”

“Anything structural. Be careful.” They gave Bellamy a nod and began searching the area. Michelle was following Clarke, and she glanced over her shoulder, stopping in her tracks for a second when she saw Jaha talking to Bellamy. She wondered what he might be telling him now but then Clarke’s voice got her attention and made her turn her head back to her, stepping over the fern’s leaves as she walked over to her. She had found something. Jaha and Bellamy joined them quickly. The latter advised them to stay behind him as they climbed down the stairs. Plants had grown over the entrance, and he cleared the way as he went down. The inside was insalubrious, roots growing all over the walls and spider webs absolutely everywhere – webs so big they were hanging from one wall to another like curtains. Bellamy broke them apart with his hand. At the back, they found a skeleton sat against the wall with thick spider webs covering him. Bellamy kneeled in front of it to take a closer look and grabbed something from its hand. What looked like a sort of large coin with the second dawn symbol and motto written around it.

“From the ashes, we will rise.” He stood up, glancing at the skeleton with a sigh. “Not this guy.”

Jaha turned the coin around and Roman numerals were written on the back. “The 11th seal. Their faith was based on 12 seals. Followers could level up by unlocking them one at a time. Only those who reached level 12 could achieve salvation.

“Huh. Maybe that’s why they didn’t let him in.” Clarke figured as she looked around, seeing a lichen covered bunker door behind them. Jaha was quite happy to see the bunker did exist. “What if they’re still in there?”

Bellamy knocked loudly on the door. “Hey! Is anyone there?”

“It’s still sealed.” Jaha concluded after looking along the door. But there were no locks or handles. There was no way they could unseal the door. The former chancellor than told them why it was – the door was designed to be opened from the inside.

“Or from the outside, by somebody with a rover.” They pulled a cable from the car all the way to the door and Bellamy started the vehicle. The cable tightened and he kept going. They all watched carefully to see if something happened. They heard metal creak, and something came flying out, hitting a tree and falling to the ground, barely avoiding the car. They had no idea if it worked or if something went wrong so they went down there again to see it for themselves. The bunker’s door was in fact open but Michelle was pretty pessimistic. She thought that, now that they forced the door open, it wouldn’t be livable anyway. And that was if the inside wasn’t as insalubrious as the first room. The room was plunged in the dark, and silence. Bellamy lit up a flare and held it high in front of him, the red incandescent light allowing them to see. The bunker was like an immense cave, spreading out before them. Hundreds of bodies were lying there. It wasn’t sealed. They all died from the bombs’ radiation, thinking they would survive.

“This won’t save anyone.” Bellamy concluded gravely. The trio glanced at each other. Michelle wasn’t so surprised, but it was still a great disappointment. They followed Jaha all the way there and again, he had been wrong and on top of that, she found out she had been lied to even more than she already knew. It had gotten her wondering if anyone ever took her seriously before.

When they returned to Arkadia, it was the middle of the night, but people were still up and going, working around the camp. They went to a room to talk privately after this failure of an outing and Bellamy and Michelle fell asleep on the couch, his arms wrapped around her as she lied on side, her face resting on his chest, blotti entre les coussins et le corps de Bellamy. They had gone to sleep, leaving Clarke to think about and work on the list of the 100 people that would have the right to be inside Alpha station when the radiation came. Michelle lifted her head when she felt Bellamy wake up and move. They looked at each other tenderly and sat up, noticing Clarke crying at the desk. She crossed their gazes as they stood up and approached and looked back to the sheet of paper in front of her.

“If we’re on the list, you’re on that list.”

“Bellamy, I can’t.” She cried.

“Write it down.” He insisted, speaking for the both of them. “Write it down, or I will.” He took the matter into his own hands when she shook her head, unable to bring herself to write her own name as the last of the list. He grabbed the pen and wrote it in her stead.  Michelle walked past him, putting a comforting hand on Clarke’s shoulder. She put her hand on top of it.

“So what now?” She asked with a shrug.

“Now we put it away, and hope we never have to use it.”

“You still have hope?”

“We still breathing?” The corner of his lips rose in a faint smirk. His hand joined the two girls’ and Clarke rested her cheeks against them, taking a deep, shaky breath. Michelle then told her to get some sleep, she gave them a nod, and the two left, headed towards their room. It ended up being a quite emotional and tough day for all of them. When she would be reunited with her father, Michelle would ask if whether he really had no idea, she was his child, or if he did, and chose not to say anything, and how he actually felt about her the whole time because she knew how she felt about him – she didn’t like him and she let him know anytime she could. It was immature of her, but she was a child, and she knew her father wouldn’t hold it against her, ever. She really wanted to have this talk with him again. There were still things he had to tell her.

[To be continued…]  

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Published (08/13/2024) by Andrea

Taglist:  @mirellef2001

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 4: It's Not the End of the World

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter

Summary of chapter: A new normal comes into play for the two Akatsuki and their associate, though changes are on the horizon- for better or for worse.

Please regard the notes and warnings of chapter 1 if you have not read it already. The song for this chapter is It's Not the End of the World (Even As We Know It) by Faded Paper Figures as both breaks and in-universe, lyrics not entirely complete or in order.

While I'm not a huge fan of the "only girl in the group" trope, I also have eyes that can see, and Konan in her own is a wonderful character with lots of depth.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah, it's hard but it's not the end of the world

Even as we know it

Yeah, it's so hard but it's not the end of the world

Even as we know it

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What kind of life is this to lead?

For now, it’s one worth having. The traveler has a roof, job security (?), and a reason to live. She got the gig at the bar, the one in the new village closest to the house she found in the woods, though it’s quite the hike. She resides there now, along with those two guys, sometimes. “As long as our objectives are within range,” the masked one explained to her, “We’ll return.” When inquired about what will happen when it’s not, if she’ll go with them, he shrugged.

“Dunno. We’ll see.”

Hence the more dubious status of her job security.

But! While she has this...it’s going ok. There’s stability in making a routine: The day is her own, which is to say, she quickly had to find out how to not be bored. The fear of losing her livelihood and getting on Kakuzu’s bad side is enough motivation to fill it with practice. Wielding her old musical skills is like sharpening a rusty sword; she’s not sure if it’s actually up to par, but as long as it doesn’t need to go up against a real blade-- an actual performer showing up-- it seems to impress just enough. It was only ever a hobby before, but...she’d be lying if in some way this wasn’t her dreams come true.

Minus the serial killers, or whatever they are. They won’t really tell her. But she can make that work!

Besides practice, there’s the matter of meals. Kakuzu goes against his word (probably figured it’d save him the headache) and gives an allowance. It’s less her choice, though, and more “here is exactly the cost of these things I pre-selected for you at this storefront.” But! She won’t starve again. For that, she’s grateful.

Hidan rolls his eyes sometimes and throws either a bag, container, or the food itself that he probably stole right at her, making sure every single time it is in front of Kakuzu. The traveler doesn’t need much intuition to sense a bit of spite or competition, so she simply thanks Hidan and says little to question how the arrangement should be; let them argue between themselves. She’s not super interested in getting in the middle.

Boy can they argue, though.

That’s the next part of the routine, really, when they arrive-- typically before sunset or just after dusk. They’re as different as different can be. Practical vs spiritual. Pragmatic vs excessive. Money vs prayer. The only thing they can agree on, apparently, is that things are taking way too fucking long and that is the fault of the other. Threats to kill and end it all happen often- especially on Kakuzu’s end, which surprises her based on how Hidan’s religion is literally, explicitly about killing, and she learns to be wary of the silence just as much-- the pressure building before someone throws a punch. She learns to either shut her ears and pretend to be busy or simply arrange that she’ll be in her “room” when they walk through the door. Maybe she’s over thinking it, though; if they’ve hit each other, it’s not been in front of her.

The sight of conflict bothers her more than the violence itself, to be honest.

Even in the world the traveler had before, the name of the game was to make herself as little of a nuisance as possible. This new unfamiliarity and constant impending doom? It’s compounding that aspect of her like a voice in a megaphone. And here she thought she had made progress! The fact that Kakuzu stated the house was perfect because “it’s free, private, and easy to surveillance” puts a weight on her shoulders whenever she leaves on her own for meals. She nearly gave herself a heart attack making eye contact with someone watering her flowers. She swallowed, pretended she is simply going about her day, and as soon as they looked away, she circled back and left. Her caretakers are bounty hunters, at minimum; what happens to her if some asshole is pissed at THEM and sees HER in association? But she knows the answer to her situation already. If you don’t like it, just leave.

But she prefers a devil she knows.

There’s another good side, though-- Hidan is never short of conversation. She isn’t entirely sure his expectations of her and what he’s going to get out of it, but clearly he aches for a listening ear, talking on and on as any seasoned scholar could (with the mouth of a sailor drunk in a ditch). The corner of his lips even seems to twitch up, on occasion, as his follower engages the scripture. He’s disciplined only in his religion, yes, but he’s not half-assing that, praying most any time he’s not speaking with the pendant to his face. What an enigma Hidan is to her, multitudes of thoughts and attitudes and ideals somehow making one man so sure about the universe. It tampers down the fact he prods her about when she wants to “go out for some heathen slaughter again.”

Does she know he’ll defend that attentiveness to bloodshed? Not yet.

When night falls is when she earns her keep, slinging a guitar over her back and being escorted by the two Akatsuki in a beeline to her corner of the low-lit business. It’s as chill as a performance job can be, and she’s content whether or not she’s acknowledged. Once or twice a night, someone will approach her. If it’s just talk, she’ll light up like the sun. If it’s more, she’s experienced that if she can get them to accept a polite denial, that’s better than her bouncers getting to them. It doesn’t help that Hidan is always RIGHT there, same spot every time, just as the first. Sometimes he’ll watch at her, but most of the time he looks bored, dangling his glass from his fingertips, either closing his eyes or looking angry he can’t fall asleep. But it’s a sin to mistake his disinterest for laziness, that tongue of his a dagger if someone bothers her just a little too long or gets a little too close. Kakuzu, however, always stays distant, perhaps judging how well this is working out, if she warrants this much of his time for a couple of bills. Neither belong with this scene, so they typically don’t engage anyone on their own volition. She begins to thank them for their time, but neither like being accused of kindness, so it’s a habit not kept.

At the end of each shift as it’s time to close the bar, the performer always wave politely to the staff and tells them to be safe heading home. They say “you too”, eventually. Her management is more dangerous than any bump in the night, boogeyman in the shadows. Is she safe when she gets home? There’s always a bit too much hesitance before she assures yes.

Some of the weight their red clouds carry starts to stick in her brain, after a couple of worried murmurs and frantic shouts about them. Kind of dampers the gig that someone more or less walked in, demanded a job for her, and she got it based on their own merit. But no one has made a big deal of it yet, the Akatsuki themselves even brushing it off somehow. The locals start to have more ease, but she’ll never be rid of the visitors passing through that try to pull the metaphorical fire alarm.

Ah well. The motto the traveler abides by, even long before this, was that to be embarrassed is to be known. To be known is to be embarrassed. If she’s anxious all the time, regardless of what she does, might as well try to be authentic.

There she finds relief in her “gimmick”-- the traveler from a strange, distant land. No, not even just from Hoshigakure-- that’s her actual cover story if it’s time to get serious-- but being exactly from where she really is from with enough vague words to escape being too specific. When she puts on her little show, she’s not just an out-of-place weirdo anymore. In the moment, she’s THE weirdo and she’s THRIVING for it, just as she always wanted and never thought possible. This “cover” is kept up eagerly, innocently, performative, in such a way that everyone really eats it up, finds it endearing-- adorable even. The woman sings of fairy tales and regrets with a smile on her face. Who would ever accuse her of telling the truth?

That’s why she dares to keep her few original affects, no matter how overly colorful. At first Kakuzu questioned them but depriving the performer of them left her so goddamn self-conscious to have it pointed out that he begrudgingly allowed it. When it rains and the two Akatsuki wear their hats, she brings out her own from her messenger bag, to match. It’s a light straw with pink ribbon tied in a bow with long tails. Her bag is even in theme, too, shaped like a folded love letter with a heart seal on the back. There’s no doubt that, sincerely, the two men are the only way no one messes with her since she is so purposefully demure and strange, unless of course the mistake is made of not recognizing their cloaks. It’s rare to see them, but there’s even a pair of literal rose tinted glasses in that strapped envelope. Is she a mockery of something? If so...what? While both men wonder, neither care to ask.

Indeed, whimsy is down to her bones, floating in curled strands of hair and in the way she sticks her boots far out to emphasize each step. Each individual leaf is capable of captivating her, every silky thread of the spider and every flower that can hug its petals around her nose. Her eyes glitter with wonder until the second you remind her she exists in front of other people.

Indeed, over time, life somehow becomes good. It takes a while, but eventually she accidentally bargains up on those trips for lunch. “Sure, you’re a regular patron now! How about some bread to go with your soup?”

The woman with the garden will tell her hello now and she’ll say it back. She can even take a smile on the street, faces becoming recognizable in the transition of vulnerable nights to guarded days. Her stomach is fuller and so are hopes. After all, she always wanted to be a storyteller. Always tried to convey to people in her life what certain words other wrote really can mean. No writer, teller. That’s all she’s doing, trying to pass feelings along in the music that’s kept her alive. Emotion is what she has, not elegance. This is the one strength she will admit to.

In turn, the “weirder” music must be kept under wraps, no matter the pang of their memory, only picking songs she finds either innocuous or passable enough to what she perceives these people to know here. Entirely relatable subjects-- even if one has to stretch-- with the foreign concept here and there explained away as world-building. She saves the fun ones for when she practices, when she thinks herself alone; she’s seen Hidan give her a “what the fuck” face hard enough to shame her into not doing it in front of them again. Of course the shinobi catch it anyways, Kakuzu thinking it’s just more of these odd fantasies while Hidan furrows his brow till it hurts.

“The hell is she singing about?”

“Nonsense. That’s what they all are anyway,” Kakuzu convinces himself. Hidan grunts.

“Jashin make sense of this for me,” he half prays.

So she begins to be a little more bold in her personal life, but not by much. Still a small mouse, at worst a kitten hissing in fear, but getting better. Persona on or off, it’s hard to take her seriously unless you actually LISTEN to her. One side of her is apologetic to even breathe. The other side in rose-tinted glasses is more interested in hearing your interpretation, your expression change, rather than what she may actually be saying for herself.

She loves questions. She loves reactions. Who cares what’s true or not? Who cares if tomorrow isn’t a guarantee? This is what existence is.

That’s been decided by the night a spellbinding set of orange eyes sit across the table.

“Takara...” That’s the name Kakuzu gave her, after the performer waffled to pick her own.

The songbird raises her head, having not introduced herself to this woman yet. Idly, she plays some chords on the piano, filling the silence as she holds back her voice. The stranger doesn’t smile, pulling a strand of periwinkle hair behind her ear.

“I’ve heard of you.”

The piano player gives more time to slide her gaze over and evaluate this person; no, she’s not familiar. “Takara’s” face brightens. “R-really?” She’s never been recognized beyond the usual patrons before. The woman neither nods nor affirms with her voice, just tilts her head forward and to the side with hooded eyes.

“You’re from a place of legends,” the patron recalls, emotionless. “Somewhere with no proof of it besides your songs.”

The performer bobs her head side to side in a bit of a playful confirmation. “Seems to be the case...Haven’t found another person from there,” she adds with an undercurrent of somberness.

“What’s it like there?”

As rehearsed, the player breathes in and out, and she sort of tells the truth. “It’s hard to describe your whole universe. There’s a bit of everything. Of course there is! But...I can say what there’s a bit more or less of, compared to here. There’s more noise. There’s more light-- so much we say it pollutes the night sky.” Though indoors, a wistful gaze becomes fixed upward. Hoshigakure...that’s supposed to be the village hidden in the stars. How can there be more than the ones she already gets to see now?

“We know so much about the heavens, but the layperson hardly gets to see it-- as it really is. A select few are chosen and trained to go beyond the clouds and pollution to see it firsthand. We’ve had a handful of people walk on the moon!”

Semi-consciously, she drifts into playing the Nocturn op.9. No.2 by Chopin. The patron can’t help but find it befitting, sweetness drifting into something in memory, an old mirror foggy with stardust. It’s getting late; the barkeep is cleaning the glasses, trying unsuccessfully to listen to a conversation.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!?”

Kakuzu eyes glare, glittering like daggers in the moonlit rain as he and a figure stand some meters away towards the outskirts of the forest. This means nothing to Hidan, of course, who folds his arms as he sits on the steps outside the bar. The newcomer smiles with half a face, the other half not moving as the white one’s lips move.

“Simply curious.” White Zetsu’s voice is nearly saccharine; Hidan loathes it. The mouth somehow keeps still while a deeper voice speaks. “This assignment has gone long past the expected perimeters.”

While Hidan is irreverent, Kakuzu is obedient-- but childish he is not and will not take scolding lying down. “Supplementing income,” he returns, not asking for forgiveness.

“I have a hard time believing you,” Black Zetsu retorts. Kakuzu doesn’t flinch.

“The books are there to prove it.”

“...She does sing very nicely…” the softer voice defends, though the other won’t back down. “We must think critically about this,” he instructs. The Akatsuki’s treasurer exhales.

“If the command is to abandon this—”

Before his partner can go batshit over Kakuzu relenting- rolling over so EASILY like a dog- the mouthless voice continues.

“That's not the issue." Then gentler voice returns, tongue slick with mischief. "What if she’s telling the truth?”

A simple question met with baffled reactions, a shocked pause in between.

“...Will you get the hell out of here already?” Hidan’s arm sweeps in front of him in a grand “shoo”ing motion. Silently, Kakuzu can’t help but agree; at this point Zetsu is clearly just fucking around, bouncing childish ideas back at them in jest. But from past experience, just after the punchline is when the plant-man would take his leave. Indeed, it’s even more unnerving that now he doesn’t move an inch.

“I’d like to make a request.”

By this point, the angel has made it to the front row, leg folded over her thigh with full, unflinching attention on the homemade musician. Takara can’t ignore how it makes her heart race, the high of controlling the narrative and of being in the graces of someone so gorgeous. As such, she smiles and nods eagerly to the proposal. The intent of Konan’s statements will become starkly clear later: the precision of it, the delicacy.

“Play for me...a song I will never understand.”

The meaning of this is obvious, in a way; they had spent the last half hour in a hyperbolic game of ping-pong in this conversation, a back and forth about what being foreign really means. The execution, however, is the real problem. Days and weeks of mulling over the appropriateness of lyrics has made it apparent how thin the line is, how gray the concept of being incomprehensible. Everything will have a twinge of relatability. What’s so different between here and there?

Takara bites the inside of her lip. Perhaps she should think of the reasons why she left.

The humming comes first, as she often does, while she spins upon her seat to pick up her second instrument; this one is going to be a bit strange to relay only on the acoustic guitar, as its so percussion-heavy in her memory. She rolls her shoulders a couple of times and then drifts into the inexplicable absurdity of Americana, consumerism, and chaos.

Glass ceilings falling on you

Like the blessings of a choice when it's the only way

Last night I thought I saw you

With a drink, and friends, you said you go there everyday

Then I hear you say

There’s a depth to it, a brevity she didn’t allow before. If it was her watching herself, she’d call it being a theater kid.

Wicked television screen, Rockefeller energy

Politician guarantee, stupid corporate synergy

MSNBC jerks, messing with the young Turks

Yogi hippiography, sell us immortality

Democratic fail safe

Money gets you in the game

Money gets you in the game

Money gets you in the game

It’s a rompous way to end the shift, letting loose and feeling her grief seep out her pores like sweat until her fingertips hurt on the grit of the strings. This nonsense doesn’t exist for her anymore! She’s never been normal, no one WILL ever be normal. She’ll never again need to pretend normal is real while the world burns around her. She finally gets to scream it out.

Yeah, it's so hard but it's not the end of the world

Even as we know it

Unapologetic about the truth, even though no one here will get what it means without living it. It might make up for the social awkwardness of all this jargon, all these buzz words that she doesn’t need to know anymore.

Kiss and tell apocalypse, psycho-pharmacologists

Target demographic lies, revolution improvised

Artificial bleeding heart, superficial work of art

Conjure up the word of God, complicated voter fraud

Buddha-heads will save the day, calculate the DNA

Mindless droning, human rights

Shoppers camping overnight

The world's a business power-play

Money gets you in the game

Money gets you in the game

MONEY GETS YOU IN THE GAME

In a weird way, she got exactly what she wanted when she died, but that part will stay a secret to even herself, let alone anyone in this dreamland. This lady doesn’t need to know; Hidan and Kakuzu don’t need to know.

...But it’s getting late, now. Where are those two, anyway? The barkeep points to the exit, and so she goes, politely excusing herself as orange eyes bore into the back of her skull.

The atmosphere is thicker than fog. Teeth clench in Hidan’s jaw, and Kakuzu’s glance no longer goes through her but stops right where she stands. An amalgamation of two men and a venus flytrap envelopes her attention; she could swear he barely licked his lips as she walked in.

“There you are,” a dreadful voice speaks seemingly from thin air. A shadow falls on Takara’s shoulder as the patron walks by wordlessly to the creature.

“Wait, Konan, how did we not see you-?!” Hidan sputters. Takara blinks.

“...Hold on. You guys know each other?”

Kakuzu won’t even indulge the question, so the blue-haired lady answers herself, approaching Zetsu and retrieving her cloak from his hands, a matching set of black and red clouds just as he drapes around himself.

Oh.

...Shit.

Her eyes can’t keep off of the one as black and white as the piano, but no one explains anything about him. He’s just a fact of reality, an everyday occurrence for these people. He is as pleasant-- and normal-- as any other gentleman. As Konan mutely joins the stance of four Akatsuki looking down one girl, Zetsu greets her with a smile that looks like fangs sanded back down.

“Our leader wishes to speak with you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Good gods abandoning you

Like a pain that fades when it's no longer in your way

No collective dreams to guide you

Have another drink, I think you'll be here everyday

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One can only wonder how long a watchful eye had followed along if it lives in the trees. The plant-man sinks in and out of bark like a bend in reality itself, reappearing only after the long, pained walk where Konan guided their path. There’s no more joy in the performer anymore. She wants to hold someone’s hand, but she’s left alone, folding and unfolding her own in anxiety until she’s worried they might rub raw. An illusion breaks as Konan approaches an over-sized oak and apparates an arch of pure darkness, causing Takara to fall backwards and shriek. Hidan ends up catching her. While a chiding is expected, she instead receives a whisper.

“Listen," he murmurs into her ear, "Fuckers are all talk. Don’t let ‘em get to ya, okay?”

How serious he’s being scares her more than anything else.

She’s helpless but to look over her shoulder as Konan escorts her inside the black hole. Hidan is helpless but to look on as he’s dictated by Zetsu to stay and Kakuzu to obey. The Jashinist frowns at the empty space where she was.

Why is he upset? That’s what Kakuzu asks. If anything, it’s him that should be, the fate of her income uncertain. Hidan doesn’t know the answer to that, so he spits in the opposite direction and tells him to shut up.

Inside this tree, there he sits, the king with a wood knot for a throne. Though his hair is the color of fire, it’s the eyes that rule her attention, circles upon a purple like the depths of space. He too wears the cloak. Her blood turns to ice and she freezes in place, but there’s little to fear-- at least right now. No, the leader has planned this out. Honey will suit this one better than water. It isn’t a matter of breaking this one open; there’s a precision, a delicacy that’s necessary. She’s more like...a puzzle that needs to be coaxed into revealing all its pieces. The possibilities- or even more so, the unimaginable- leave too much at stake.

“We are the Akatsuki.” The man’s voice is as regal as his presence. He sits above her, distantly...but not necessarily unkindly. “Under my command are the most elite of shinobi, those who have defected their station in light of the truth. The truth…” he repeats, spirals narrowing. “We’ve observed the truth about you.”

“But...that’s just—”

Konan watches silently in the corner of her eye as the man moves an index over his lips, urging Takara hush. The performer knows now that her patron was evaluating just how convincing her outlandishness was.

“You’ve hid in plain sight,” the leader continues. “Made due with what you had. All I ask now is…”

Her breath hitches, and abruptly she’s convinced this is somehow the end. But as her eyes squeeze shut, a death-cold hand holds her cheek, and they open just as soon. The man with many piercings seems to look upon her as one does an injured animal.

“...Share your suffering with us. Among comrades who don’t belong.”

His ring-wearing hand retracts, leaving her speechless. Pain allows the air to stagnate with her confusion before he elaborates, now on her level.

“We misfits who will bring the world to peace. Shinobi or otherwise, a power beyond infinite knowledge sent you here. I want to help you. I want your help.”

“I’m beseeching you: explain how you got here.”

She remembers the sound of the ocean and the sand under her palms. The man’s confidant sends a silent warning with her expression as she sees the girl begin to slip to the edge of composure, tears threatening to fall. The leader exhales softly.

“I’m expanding the tasks that my members took liberty upon. You will remain with us. Vulnerability should be no sin.”

The two Akatsuki wait in patience, their offer like God reaching down from heaven. But she doesn’t believe in God anymore. This benevolence surrounds an exchange, and the traveler is too afraid to ask what she must give. Briefly, she imagines continuing this life as she has, just without the two bounty hunters. She tries to focus on how fun and kind and fulfilling it can be, but those target eyes pin her in place as she imagines familiar faces twisting into sneers, jeers, and nightmares as soon as she has to stand on her own two feet. Then she feels hunger. Cold. And being alone again.

The answer to the proposal can only be a yes. Her head dips in submission, and she shouldn’t be surprised when he raises it again. His fingers are like ice. “Everything will be as it should.”

A threat and a promise.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Unfortunately, life goes on

However bent and badly drawn

Unfortunately, life goes on

However bent and badly

Bent and badly

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[mariacallous]

The U.S. social safety net is a collection of programs designed to support families experiencing financial hardship. The design of some of the programs is largely determined by the states, while others have structures and benefits largely determined at the federal level. State and federal policies interact to determine benefit levels—for example, state-directed cash transfers reduce eligibility for federally-directed food assistance. As a result, similar families are eligible for substantially different benefit packages depending on where they live.

One might expect that “blue states”—defined here as those that voted for Biden in 2020— have more generous safety net benefits. We explore benefit variation by state political leaning and find that this is true for programs under state control—blue states generally have higher average state-directed benefit levels. However, “red states”—defined as those that voted for Trump in 2020—generally have higher average federally-directed benefit levels. Although total benefit levels are higher in blue states, federally-directed benefits narrow the gap (and close the gap after adjusting for state cost-of-living differences). In other words, the federal government is providing more assistance to residents of less generous states, which largely offsets disparities in state-directed benefit generosity.

Background

While the federal government provides some social safety net support to eligible low-income Americans, states play a major role in structuring certain support programs for their residents. For instance, the Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) program is partially funded through federal block grants, but states have wide leeway in how the money is spent. States also often use state Earned Income Tax Credits (EITCs) to bolster support for low-income families. However, state-level benefit generosity variation isn’t solely determined based on state-directed benefits. The Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), which is funded and directed by the federal government, is partially dependent on how much cash assistance a household is receiving from programs like TANF.

We analyze how state choices for the programs they most directly control—TANF and the state EITC—vary based on a state’s political leaning and impact overall benefit generosity. We focus on 2019 generosity because it excludes pandemic-related safety net expansions that have since expired.

To investigate state-level variation in benefit generosity, we calculate the benefits theoretically available to a fixed group of single-parent families if they lived in different states. Through this approach (described in our data appendix), we hold constant differences in demographic factors and earnings across states. We aggregate average values of food and cash benefits available to this fixed group of single-parent families into an index of generosity reported in 2022 dollars. Therefore, any state-level differences in average benefit amounts can be attributed to differences in benefit rules.

[invisibleraven]

arranged marriage + dark fantasy + rulie or peterpatterlina?

It all starts when the Lady Rose falls ill so close to the birth of his first child. Healers, apothecaries, and sorcerers are brought in, but they all leave without success. Desperate, she drags herself onto a horse and into the forest, towards the fae circle she knows of from childhood stories.

She doesn't enter it-she knows better, but she brings an offering of bread, salt, and milk. Lays it outside the circle and waits, waits as the moon rises high in the sky, wonders if Ray has already raised the alarm or is following her himself. She knows she should have brought him along, but she also knows he would have done everything in his power to stop her from going.

She closes her eyes and breathes deep the scent of the forest, feels the chill of the wind, the quiet of the night. When she opens them again, there is a figure standing before her, nibbling on the bread.

"What name am I to have?" the fae asks.

"Dahlia," Rose answers, she knows the rules. Never give the fae your true name, lest they keep it.

"What is it you wish my little blossom?" the fae asks, staring down at Rose and it makes her quiver the way those eyes cut through her, like they can see her very soul.

"I am ill-I am afraid that I will perish before I can bring my child into the world. No medicines seem to help," Rose explains.

"So you hoped magic might?" the fae hums. "I can save you, and your bairn, if you wish. But there will be a cost."

"I understand that, may I ask what it shall be before I agree?" Rose asks.

"Not many do, but I like you little blossom, I can see the spirit of the forest in you. It is a bargain we shall strike. I have two children of my own, boys that others have traded for their own gain. I shall have your child marry them."

"Both of them?" Rose asks.

The fae shrugs. "Such things are normal for us, many babes grow up never knowing their true parentage, even when they are fae born. This would unite our worlds, a sign of our bond."

"May they court?" Rose asks. "I do not wish for my child to marry an unknown."

"I thought that commonplace in your world," the fae replies. "But yes, we shall meet every solstice and equinox, until their eighteenth year. Then they shall wed on the longest night of your year."

The fae then touched her forehead, and Rose felt a coolness wash over her, then a warmth, filling her with the strength she been missing-like the weight on her had been lifted.

"See you on the solstice blossom."

Rose can hear Ray calling, but when she looks, the fae is gone, so she is left to explain the bargain she has made to him alone. He is afraid, and angry, but kisses her breathless regardless, and agrees-a deal is a deal.

Their advisors try to talk them out of it, having wanted to set up allegiances with various other kingdoms, but Rose is not to be swayed. The bargain is struck, and all she can hope for, as she cradles the newly born Julie, is that she made the right choice.

Thus every year, at every solstice and equinox, they venture into the woods, and the fae greets them. It brings two boys, scarcely a year older than Julie, calls them Luke and Reggie, and the three babble together as Rose and Ray watch on, sharing food with the fae, who seems pleased.

Eventually the children grow, and continue to play, to frolic and sing together. Julie often laments she can see her friends but four times a year, but Rose and Ray explain it to her.

"They are to be my husbands?" she asks.

"When you are all of age, yes," Rose tells her. "We arranged it before you were even born. But they are bonny young lads, and will treat you well."

Julie nods, and though she is quite young, seems to understand. Rose prays she can find if not love, at least companionship with Luke and Reggie, that they will rule their kingdom wisely-for the fae had said they may do so, as long as any children from the union come to know the fae side as well.

Years pass, and Julie grows into a beautiful, smart, talented young woman with a good head on her shoulders. Many suitors have come to try and claim her hand, but she always demurs, confessing she is already promised to another.

And if Rose notices how she blushes at the sight of her intended, how they have goofy smiles on their faces when they catch sight of her-it is a relief. Though she cannot ignore how well kissed they all look after the meeting before the wedding, smiling knowingly at her daughter as they ride back to the castle.

"Do we need to hurry things along mija?" she teases.

"Mami!" Julie protests. "It was simply some kisses, though it is good to know we shall have no trouble with that part of the marriage. The fae seem pleased as well."

"We shall have to start on your dress before the next meeting in the autumn," Rose muses.

Only before the next meeting, war breaks out.

Fields are razed, barbarians scour the country side, and the army is near overwhelmed trying to keep the countryside safe, let alone the capital. Julie sneaks out on the equinox, staying under cover of darkness to flee to the forest, and cries when she sees the fairy ring destroyed. The ground here is turned to ash, the stones scattered, and she has no idea where else to turn to find her fiances.

Her tears sink into the ground as she mourns her loves, sure that the ruffians and invaders have done them in. Luke and Reggie are sweet souls, they do not know of combat and hardship.

"Julie?"

She looks up, and there they are, emerging from the trees, sweeping her into an embrace. "I thought I lost you!"

"We're here precious, we would never leave," Luke assures her, burying his tears into her curls.

"Mother sent us to go hide, knowing you would be coming," Reggie said. "And to restore the ring, with your help."

"My help?" Julie questions.

"You are fae blessed, you have magic in you," Reggie explains.

"We all are, in a way," Luke continues. "So let's get to work."

They sweep away the ash, recover the stones, and Julie gathers flowers to plant around them, her touch making them bloom, Reggie's touch restoring the grass, Luke's attracting will of the wisps that make the area glow.

The three of them clasp hands and wait, delighting when the fae that the boys considered a mother appeared, smiling down at them.

"My children," she says, caressing their cheeks. Then she notices Julie, and kisses her forehead. "My dearest child to be. You restored me."

"You saved me oh so many years ago, I thought it was only fair," Julie replied.

The fae nods in thanks, then pauses, eyes seeking far. "The world is hurting. I hear voices crying out in pain and fear."

"There is war-conflict between the people," Julie explains. "But I had to come though, it is the equinox."

"It is sweet that you came my dearest," the fae says. "But it is not safe. I shall have the boys bring you home. And stay with you, until it is the solstice. Set up an altar for me, and I shall visit you then so you may be wed."

"We will come back here," Luke protests. "To be with you."

"We will be wed here," Reggie states firm.

"Oh my sweets," the fae states, gathering them in for a hug. "The forest is not safe, not for our kind. I can feel the magic draining as the land is ravaged. You are not of my world, so you can survive here if it falls."

"But you cannot!" Reggie cried.

"If you set up an altar for me, I can find new land, try to harness the magic from there," the fae says, though her voice is wavering, her form flickering.

"My mother has a garden, we can set it up there," Julie promises. The fae smiles kindly and disappears as a cloud passes over the moon. Julie instructs the boys to gather the stones, putting them in her saddlebags.

The horse cannot carry them all, so Julie rides and the boys walk alongside her, sneaking back into the castle. They begin setting up the altar then and there.

That's where Rose finds them, distraught and confused, but gathers them in for a hug and holds her hand out for a stone.

Ray soon joins them, the five of them working together, setting up the ring, sitting around it as the night passes. Yet the fae does not appear.

They leave out offerings, but nothing changes. Reggie and Luke delight in discovering the human world, in spending time with Julie, but they worry for their adoptive world, their family.

"Do you still wish to be wed tonight?" Rose asks them on the dawn of the solstice.

"Yes," the three answer her.

"The war is over," Julie says. "We can give the people this chance to celebrate, a sign of hope, of better things to come with our union."

"We have been waiting for this day for eighteen years," Luke adds. "Would be a shame to add more time to that."

"She did say she would come," Reggie replies, glancing at the still circle. "She would not miss this."

So the ceremony begins; Julie is in a dress decorated to mimic winter frost, with a cape of autumn leaves, spring blossoms in her hair, and summer flowers in her hands. The boys are in traditional fae garb, waiting for her under an arch of willow, decorated with winter berries and she can see will of the wisps floating around it.

The circle behind them starts to glow, and the fae appears, looking hale and whole, embracing them both, whispering that they had kept her safe, and she would never miss this day, just as Reggie said.

So Julie proceeds down the aisle, to her destiny, to her loves, and gives her mother a silent thanks for her desperate plan that lead them to more happiness than they ever could have known.

And in the end, the fae princes do take her name-only in a much different way than the stories tell. But Julie is fine with that, she is more than happy to share it with them.

And years later, with the children they have.

[sidewalkchemistry]

The whole world is obsessed today with cutting down plastic straw consumption. But the reality of it is, that if you take all the straws around the world, and you put them all in the ocean, that is still less than a tenth of a percent (0.1%) of the plastic that goes into the ocean every year. In fact, more than 40% of all the plastic that goes into the ocean is plastic fishing nets. - Vikas Garg in Let Us Be Heroes - The True Cost of Our Food Choices (2018)

[mdhwrites]

Thanks for your response to my ask about the Guardian’s choice! You make a good argument; adherence to logic shouldn’t come at the cost of thematic consistency and compromising the message you’re trying to tell with your story. I do think logic and thematic consistency can coexist in stories, but that’s a whole other argument I won’t get into.

I’ve read some of your thoughts on Anne’s arc in season three, and it was both surprising (and fairly refreshing) to see someone argue that the way Anne reacted to the events of True Colors was appropriate for her character and fitting for the show, since so many viewers think Anne (and season three as a whole) should have been far more angsty. It’s given me a lot of food for thought regarding an argument I’m still conflicted on. I think you made a valid point that Anne is far too young to properly process such trauma, and that Amphibia has never really been that angst-focused of a story.

With that said, I think the reason so many people expected the story to go darker, even if that would go against the previously established tone, was because of how severe True Colors got with its stakes. While I understand your arguments, I don’t think people can necessarily be blamed for assuming a more serious tone would be an appropriate continuation to True Colors.

So do you think season three could have been darker while still maintaining its identity as Amphibia? Take Olivia & Yunan, for instance. That episode is often cited by fans as the darkest episode, but it still has good instances of humour and levity, so it never really gets bogged down by the dark stuff. The only downside is the tonal whiplash that occurs when following episode transitions back to wacky hijinks with the Plantars. But it shows, in my opinion, that Amphibia can go darker while not losing the wit and charm that defines it in the process.

Now, I don’t think season three would have worked if every episode was as dark as Olivia & Yunan, but I’m still curious as to whether you think the show could have been able to still be itself while adopting a darker tone.

Sooooo... No. I talked about this before but people are OBSESSED with trauma nowadays, especially in cartoons. However, if you actually understand basic storytelling, literally the most basic storytelling format, let alone fantasy storytelling... True Colors doesn't do shit.

True Colors is the start of the darkest hour for our heroes where all hope appears to be lost. Now when I say 'darkest hour', I'm not referring to genre or theme. I am explicitly referencing the Hero's Journey here with that statement for a reason. That's how ubiquitous it is. How many shows have the main character, or their best friend, get fucking stomped on shortly before the finale so as to give everyone the motivational boost they need to take on someone so much larger and more powerful than them? A LOOOOOT of anime, especially shounen anime, does this. If you look at the Rescue Sasuke arc from Naruto, fucking EVERYONE almost dies in that arc and it doesn't make the show more mature or dark, it is just the amplification of stakes to make the challenge and victory for our heroes all the more exciting.

This framing even fits with the narrative uses of the shocking elements in True Colors. Sprig getting his life threatened and Marcy being stabbed are catalysts. One pushes Anne to a new level while the other forces everyone to be ripped apart so that they can go on the journeys of self discovery that will make them ready for the final fight. Before then though... True Colors is still fun and 100% Amphibia. It ends on a dour note but spends the majority of its run time still being the same fun self that Amphibia always was with bits of seriousness because it's a season finale. Even Sprig having his life threatened is met with the same grandness of emotion that fits the show so well. The melodrama that makes epic fantasy so fun.

And then the show gives itself time to breathe and be back to itself for half a season to make sure that you understand that the show is still going to be what you expect from it. Injury may be more possible now but Amphibia is still Amphibia. It was never going to become Game of Thrones cartoon edition like I feel like some people push that it should have become. Admittedly, most of those people seem to quite literally only be interested in the show for the trio which is missing the forest for the trees.

There is one other element that signals to the audience that this isn't a real big deal. After all, who gets stabbed?

The sacrificial lamb.

Marcy is the weakest part of the show. I know that's controversial but unlike the rest of the characters, she is the one who is always playing to a narrative role. The only one that the writers would actually be willing to fridge for the sake of another character or shock value (with Frobo being the closest to ever have this happen to otherwise). So even if I had not been spoiled on it already, I would never have expected Marcy's stabbing to actually amount to a lot. She was never a genuinely important character. A fun, likable character? Sure. It'd be like killing Willow in TOH though. You killed the person who mostly just existed for others to react against? Why should I care about that?

And the show doubles down on this issue. I actually don't like Yunan and Olivia as an episode much. I don't think it's much darker than a good number of other S3 episodes (though I do understand why people consider it the darkest). Not any darker than Commander Anne at least because the darkest element to me is the fact that the world is fucked. But Marcy? Even Olivia admits that Marcy only matters because of her intelligence and its relation to Andrias. She doesn't give a single fuck about Marcy as a person besides, you know, thinking that a teenage girl shouldn't have her autonomy taken away from her.

But her autonomy was never there to begin with. Not to me at least. Her fear is the only one treated seriously in the episode, the other two are jokes pretty much, and even then it's all about Sasha and Anne, which her character was always facilitating more than her actual relationship with them. It's why I don't like Marcy at the Gates because Marcy is mostly just a smart cardboard cutout for Anne to angst against and the scavenger hunt episode is the same way. So yeah, we get an episode about her fear that then ends with her being fridged a SECOND TIME and the only real exploration of that is for making Andrias sad. I don't really find that dark, I just think that sucks.

But it NEVER meant the show should be darker. The fandom just wanted that because it'd be brave and edgy and blech. Especially since again, no one in the fandom seems to be willing to recognize that the girls do deal with their trauma. Hell, Sasha does by wanting to throw Marcy away and be told that she doesn't need to care about her friend anymore. Doesn't have to think about what happened.

So while I don't think it's entirely unreasonable to have expected the show to get a little more mature post S2, asking for it to get 'darker' A: requires understanding what that actually means because TOH fans really struggle with understanding what 'dark' means for storytelling as well and B: actually requires stuff to happen that isn't a part of almost any fantasy story. You can talk about how awful it would be to actually have to happen to you but fantasy works off different logic. Dark fantasy is not just fantasy where a couple people get stabbed. Dark fantasy is where the entire system is corrupt and the story is exploring how those elements can be twisted to sin, greed and pain against others. Not just having characters cry, at least to me.

Hell, just as a last minute shout out: The toads from a meta perspective are actually one of the darkest elements of the series. They are oppressors, they are cruel and they profit off of the need others have for protection due to this being a harsh environment to live in. They practice the calculus of war and are self serving to the point of dehumanizing other races to justify their conquests. No one talks about that though because the show doesn't portray it darkly because this isn't dark fantasy. Instead, they're funny and relatable and actual people because framing does have a large part to do with a story's tone.

But stabbing? Lord of the Rings doesn't suddenly become more serious when Boromir dies. Besides mourning him, it doesn't signal a shift in the majority of the storytelling. It exists more to amplify stakes and to add tension to the journey and sell the new threat. That doesn't make it dark though, that just makes it a more exciting adventure with a sad moment for contrast.

Marcy getting stabbed is unfortunately just another side of that same coin so many stories use. So many regular fantasy stories, not dark fantasy ones.

======+++++======

As a note: Yes this ask, and kind of this chain of asks, is what motivated my previous blog about the confusing nature of 'dark' stories.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Many Roads Diverge in the Woods - Part Two

A JSE Interactive Fanfic

Previous

The results are in.

Your path has been decided. Strange how such a small choice can change so much. Can't wait to see how you guys handle the situations that are coming :)c

The poll at the bottom to decide what happens next is only open for one day, expiring on October 5th at 12:00pm PST. Part Three will be up on October 7th at the same time.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

“Thanks Jackie, but I think the food situation is a bit more important,” Chase says.

Jackie sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But hey, you can always join later.” He turns and heads down the hall, leaving Schneep and Chase there.

“Ah, thank you, Chase,” Schneep says awkwardly.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. You’re right, if we don’t have food that’s kind of a bummer.” Chase leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind him. “Besides, if we don’t have anything, I’ll have to drive over to the town to get groceries. You guys should really pass your driver’s tests, you know.”

Schneep shrugs. “There has never been a need for it until now.”

The two of them head downstairs. Jackie has convinced Marvin and JJ to help him with the PS5, so they’re all currently crowded around the TV. “Hey guys.” Chase waves at them as he and Schneep walk past. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Chase,” Jackie says. “We’re teaching JJ how to set up a console.”

“It’s not that difficult,” Marvin adds, nudging JJ teasingly.

JJ rolls his eyes. Alright, alright, I get the picture.

Chase laughs as he and Schneep head into the kitchen/dining room combo. The rustic look continues here, though Chase can’t help but notice the countertops are made of fancy-looking green marble. Those must have cost a fortune. In fact, this whole place probably cost a lot. How did Jack’s family have access to this? They weren’t that well-off.

Schneep opens the refrigerator. “Ah, good, Jack was right. There is food.” He lets out a little breath of relief.

“This was really worrying you, huh?” Chase says, opening the cabinets. Each one was full of dried foods.

“I would like everything to go as expected.” Schneep closes the fridge and opens the attached freezer. It is also full. “You know that.”

“Yeah, you get a little, uh... anxious.” Chase gives him a small smile, hoping to reassure him. “Everything needs to be in control. I’m actually surprised you left the house keys by the door.”

“I did?” Schneep pats his pockets. “Oh, I-I forgot about that. You are right, I should probably hold onto those. I would hate to lose Jack’s keys.” He leaves the kitchen to go grab them.

Chase walks over to the archway connecting the area to the living room. Jackie and Marvin are now arguing about what to play while JJ fiddles with the controller. “Hey guys,” Chase calls. “We’re good on food. What d’you guys want to have for dinner?”

“You already know my list of foods I like,” Marvin says, shrugging.

I’m fine with whatever you want to make, JJ adds. It sounds like we may have limited options.

“We don’t want to make a mess,” Jackie points out. “Is there anything that’s easy to clean?”

“Uhh let’s check.” Chase turns around and looks through the kitchen again.

Schneep joins him. “I saw frozen pizzas in here,” he says, opening the freezer. “Yes, five of them.”

“Aw sweet, one for each of us,” Chase says. “Hmm, but would that be too messy?”

“Not unless our friends eat like your daughter,” Schneep jokes.

“Hey!... Well, that’s true.” Chase laughs. “Pizza it is, then. I don’t think five could fit in the oven at once, though. We won’t need all five, will we?”

Schneep shuffles through the freezer. “Oh! I think each one is our favorite, actually. Look, this one has olives for me, there is Jackie’s pineapple—ugh—and Marvin’s plain cheese. Jack must have really planned this out.”

“Huh. Okay, then, I guess everyone will have their own. Who’s the least hungry and ready to wait?”

Before Chase can go into the living room to ask the others, the lights in the kitchen all turn off at once, leaving only the light of the setting sun to illuminate the area. He hears Jackie and Marvin cry out in dismay, and he and Schneep return to the living room. “Of all the times!” Jackie complains.

“The power went out?” Chase says. “That’s weird.”

Perhaps it has been a while since the house was used and the fuse box is old? JJ suggests.

“I can go check,” Schneep suggests. “Jack said that the power was in the basement.” He walks over to the basement door, taking the house keys out of his pocket as he does so. After a couple tries, he finds the one to unlock the basement door, which then swings open. “Alright.” He turns to look back at everyone else. “I will be right back.”

“Hey, I can go with you, if you want,” Jackie offers.

Schneep laughs. “It is just a basement. I’m sure the worst that will happen is spiderwebs.” And before the others can say anything else, he heads on down. “I will text you if something is strange,” he calls, his voice getting farther and farther, echoing up the staircase.

Jackie frowns. “I don’t like that basement,” he mutters. “Strange that it was locked.”

This is more of a vacation home than a real home, JJ says. Of course they would lock everything up when they’re not using it.

“The bedrooms and bathrooms weren’t locked, though.”

“That’s cause the bedrooms and bathrooms only lock from inside,” Marvin says. “If they locked them, they’d have to leave through the windows, and I don’t think the ones in the bathroom open up.”

Jackie sighs. “Yeah, you guys are right. I’m probably just being weird cause it’s October and I’m thinking about horror movies.”

“I mean, if you’re really that worried about Schneep, you can follow him even if he said it would be fine,” Chase points out. “No one’s stopping you.”

“I could,” Jackie considers. He thinks about it.

[stories-of-the-nrm]

The LNER's Tea Express

AN: This takes place in the 1930s before Scott reached 100 mph when he had an amicable brotherly relationship with Gordon. Thank you for requesting this @jayde-jots.

Narrator: It was a hot summers day in England as the LNER’s business booms. Despite the depression impacting the United Kingdom, London seemed to be thriving as many businessmen require their services.

(We see the sheds where the passenger engines are resting.)

Scott: How was your train today, Gordon?

Gordon: On time as usual. And your train, Scott?

Scott: Oh it was excellent. My passengers would be all over the platform talking about how they really loved the changes made to our travel services. Especially the food.

Gordon: Ah yes. My crew was raving about it as well. I quite frankly fail to understand it as we engines of course only need coal and water.

Scott: Yes yes that’s true, but it’s quite fascinating to hear humans get so excited. I would love to see what the fuss is all about.

Gordon: You are not going to leave your engine just to consume human food meant to be for our passengers. It would be a disgrace to the LNER if you were to cost them money just to prepare more.

(Scott sighs knowing Gordon is right.)

Scott: I understand that, Gordon. But I was just thinking that if there was food to spare and would otherwise be thrown out, then sampling it wouldn’t hurt would it?

Gordon (groaning): I better not get a tongue lashing from Sir Nigel Gresley because you took some of the passengers food!

(Scott smiles sheepishly.)

Scott: Of course not, brother. I know we have our reputation to uphold. I won't let you or Sir Nigel Gresley down.

Gordon (sighing): This railway still has difficulties navigating this "depression". I just worry that the slightest slip up by any of us could cost them money. Money they use to maintain us. The last thing I would want is to see any of us scrapped because of it.

(Scott takes a breath.)

Scott: Please don't worry, Gordon. I know better than to steal food from the dining car. I won't even bring it up to my crew.

(Gordon closes his eyes.)

Gordon: Well I believe we should stop talking about this now. I can see the moon is getting high which tells me we need to get some sleep.

Scott (yawning): You're right brother. Good night.

Gordon: Good night, Scott.

(They fall asleep for the night.)

Time Skip

Narrator: One evening after he pushes the coaches back into their shed a group of women who work in the dining car approach Scott.

Scott: Yes? What do you need?

(They all look young and seem to be attracted to Scott as they try to explain their need to finish all of the left over food.)

Scott: I see. I'll need to get my brother. This is a lovely opportunity he just can't miss.

(Scott leaves his engine and practically runs to look for Gordon who's still in his engine form.)

Gordon: Scott what are you doing here?

(He stops to catch his breath.)

Scott: Gordon. These lovely ladies gave me a brilliant opportunity that I just. Have to share.

Gordon: And what is that?

Scott: They work in the dining car and-

(Gordon groans.)

Gordon: I thought I told you not to bother the staff about this food nonsense?

Scott: But I didn't Gordon. These lovely ladies came to me and wanted me to help them.

Gordon: And what on earth would they need you for?

Scott: They have a lot of food left over and can't store it over night. If no one eats it, it'll all have to be thrown out. Didn't you say you don't want the LNER to waste money and food?

(Gordon sighs.)

Gordon: So you mean to say that you want me to help you eat human food that would otherwise spoil and be discarded?

Scott: Why yes. I don't want these ladies to possibly lose their jobs because food was wasted and all.

Gordon: In that case, I have no choice but to help you. If this is for the benefit of the railway, then I will do it.

(Scott smiles.)

Scott: Splendid! Why don't you leave your engine form and follow us to the dining car. Who knows maybe you might like what humans eat.

(Gordon rolls his eyes leaves his engine.)

Gordon: I highly doubt that human food would hold any meaning for me. We are machines, Scott. All we need is coal and water. If we were designed to eat human food our railway would save a lot of money on coal.

Scott: Oh Gordon we aren't just machines. Look at us! We can take on a human form so we have to have some ability to eat. Don't think of it as a chore but as an adventure!

(Gordon sighs and just follows Scott as the group of ladies lead them to the dining car.)

Scott: Watch your step brother! I know you're not used to being able to walk.

Gordon: Yes, yes I know how to walk just fine Scott.

(They're lead to a table in the dining car that's covered in food.)

Narrator: There was a bottle of champagne, bread rolls and curled butter on the table. The ladies also gave them left overs from the 1st class menu which included various types of meats, halibut and numerous pastries often served during Afternoon Tea.

(Scott's eyes widen and takes a seat.)

Scott: Why thank you ladies. I'm sure this will all taste lovely. Don't you think brother?

Gordon (scoffing as he sits down): I still think this is all a waste of time. We are not humans, Scott. Their food will do nothing to sustain us.

Scott: And how would you know that if you never even tried? None of us know for sure how these human forms work. Times are changing Gordon. We no longer have to hide away in our engines for our entire existence. The depression's ending and the LNER is as successful as ever. Why if we keep growing we might even buy out the LMS.

(Gordon shakes his head.)

Gordon: Do not make such extreme sentiments. The driver told me that some parts of the kingdom are suffering in poverty and are dealing with higher levels of unemployment.

Scott (sighing): You're right. But I want to have hope that things will get better.

(Gordon tries to change the subject.)

Gordon: Well we better get started on eating all this food. We simply can not allow food waste.

(They start to dig into the food as the women watch and giggle.)

Narrator: As Scott and Gordon begin to eat and drink the champagne, Gordon quickly realizes he was wrong about human food being nonsense.

Gordon: My goodness! This lamb is delicious.

Scott (stuffing his face with cold cuts): See! I told you, brother. Human food's the best thing there is. It's little wonder they value it so much.

(Gordon is a little disgusted by Scott's lack of table manners.)

Narrator: The two of them slowly start to feel the effects of the champagne.

Scott (hiccuping): Let's get into these... pastries.

(They start eating the pastries that can be picked up with their hands.)

Gordon: These are not... better than... that lamb.

(Scott looks like he's in heaven.)

Scott: You're wrong! These.. are the best! How can you not appreciate these.... creamy pillows?!

(Gordon shushes him.)

Gordon: We need to keep it… down. Sir Nigel Gresley will punish us if we’re… not at our best for our morning… trains.

Scott (huffing): More creamy pillows for me then.

(Gordon gets up from the table.)

Gordon: I… must go back... to my engine. Goodnight… Scott.

(Scott’s now red faced and tipsy.)

Scott: Night Gordon!

Narrator: As Gordon leaves, Scott finishes eating his cream puffs and pastries.

(It’s really late at night and Scott’s belly is now bulging out of his suit jacket.)

Scott: What a meal! I just… want to sleep here. (A pause.) No. Sir Nigel Gresley would scrap me if Gordon doesn’t… yell at me first.

(He sighs and tries to get up. Some of the ladies in the dining car are still there watching.)

Scott (smiling a little flirtatiously): Hey? Care to help... a poor ol' engine... like me?

(They all practically jump out of their seats to help Scott.)

Narrator: After getting some help, Scott stumbles his way out of the dining car.

Scott (winking): Thanks ladies! See you all… in the morning!

(They blush despite themselves as Scott tries to control his laughter on the way back to his engine.)

Scott (trying to whisper): I need to do that again soon.

Narrator: As soon as he gets to his engine, Scott shifts back into it and falls asleep. He starts to dream about what it be like to live as a human.

Time Skip

Gordon: Scotsman wake up!

Scott (snorting awake): Huh? Oh Gordon I had such a wonderful dream last night!

(Gordon rolls his eyes.)

Gordon: You need to get it together fast. Sir Nigel Gresley is going to be very cross if he finds out you’re “hungover” and late!

(Scott temporarily shifts out of his engine form to wash his face before going back.)

Scott: It was such a lovely meal Gordon. You have to at least admit that can't you?

(Gordon sighs in defeat.)

Gordon: I suppose the lamb was delicious enough to reconsider.

Scott: Excellent! Don't you want to hear about my dream last night?

Gordon: But we can not continue this habit. I have no time to hear about your dream now.

(Gordon's crew starts to drive him away to the station.)

Scott: I understand and I won’t be late. I’ll tell you all about it later, Gordon!

Narrator: As Scott’s crew starts to drive him to the station he tries to prepare himself to work. But deep down he wishes to eat human food again and hopes the dining car has leftovers again.

THE END

Tagging: @bluy1206, @klein-sodor-bahn, and @nlliah. To those who have been loving my content, I thank you all so much. I can't wait to see what future requests will look like.

[greentekkid-blog]

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[lmky-n]

poor unfortunate souls (Stella and femMD!reader)

you walked in stella's room after her

-so you want to be with your beloved one?-tall demoness asked you

-y-yeah i want to be with that worker drone that named sam but there one issue i'm disassembly drone and he is a worker drone, he is literally my food- you replied to stella

-oh there's the way i can solve your problem with love

-and what is that way?

-the way you can be with that sam is to become a worker drone yourself

-can you do that?

-oh my dear sweet child that's what i do, that's what i live for, to help unfortunate people like yourself, poor souls that got in corner of despair

I admit that in the past I've been a nasty They weren't kidding when they called me Well, a witch But you'll find that nowadays I've mended all my ways Repented, seen the light And made a switch True? Yes And I fortunately know a little magic It's a talent that I always have possesed And here lately, please don't laugh I use it on behalf Of the miserable, lonely, and depressed-- Pathetic! Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need This one longing to be thinner That one wants to get the girl And do I help them? Yes, indeed! Those poor unfortunate souls So sad, so true They come flocking to my cauldron Crying spells, Stella, please! And I help them, yes I do Now it's happened once or twice Someone couldn't pay the price And I'm afraid I had to rake 'em 'Cross the coals Yes, I've had the odd complaint But on the whole I've been a saint To those poor unfortunate souls

-have we got a deal?

-if i become a worker drone i'll never be with my teammates again

-there's nothing to worry about, life's full of tough choice and we haven't discussed the subject of payment

-but i don't ha- you was cutted off by stella

-i'm not asking much, what i want from you is your voice

-but that's my voice, how can i-you was cutted off(again)

-you'll have your looks, your pretty face. and don't underestimate the importance of our body language, ha

The men up there don't like a lot of blabber They think a girl who gossips is a bore! Yes, on land it's much preferred For ladies not to say a word And after all, dear, what is idle prattle for?

Come on, they're not all that impressed with conversation True gentlemen avoid it when they can! But they dote and swoon and fawn on a lady who's withdrawn It's she who holds her tongue who gets a man!

Come on, you poor unfortunate soul Go ahead! Make your choice! I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day It won't cost much, just your voice!

You poor unfortunate soul It's sad but true

If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got the pay the toll Take a gulp and take a breath, and go ahead and sign the scroll Chazwick, striker, now I've help her, boys The boss is on a roll! This poor unfortunate soul!

Beluga sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea Larynxes, glossitis, ad max Laryngitis, la voce to me!

-now sing!

you started singing

-keep singing

when you stoped singing a strange glowing ball that was your voice fly away from your mouth and when you tried to speak there was nothing while you watch that glowing ball landed in necklace

-here. if you want to reveal your true form just break that necklace ok?-asked stella giving you the necklace and writing book

you noded

-i'm glad i help you

you put that necklace on and ran away throuh the portal that stella opened waving her to say goodbye