When the Mistress
made me she was full of angry things, that’s why so am I.
red threads over skin too tight and she couldn’t turn me, so all the ugliness I
was supposed to hide was out for all to see. Like little crisscrossing scars.
But that’s alright.
up my head a little bit, stitch, stitch stitching. She fixed it as much as she
could, and in the process she found pause.
at me, me, for the first time. And
her eyes and let go of me almost completely, and I thought she would forget
more gentle things in me this time. Not for the sake of the enemies of our Kingdom,
but for mine. So I wouldn’t feel so alone.
Instead of nails
she gave me a hawthorn berry for a heart, and soft, soft cotton.
she brushed her thumb across my cheek and clothed me.
feels no cold.”
she gave me a sword, the only sword,
and I felt special.
send a soldier to war unarmed.”
her lips against my forehead and her warm air filled my head.
“A witch’s kiss
is a blessed thing,” they said.
on the seams of my pepper filled legs and the rosemary in my chest swelled.
Maybe the mint in my cheeks blushed, but just a little bit.
She gave me
hematite so my will would be strong and shiny, and then she whispered it was my
duty to look after the Junglegreen.
all, my brave little soldier.” And before she left she turned and over her
shoulder blew me a final kiss.
This is my
no other soldiers. I’m the one and only. I protect the Junglegreen and the Mistress
day and night. I march between the Pottedplants and am a diplomat with the Faepeople,
I see who can visit the kingdom or not, depending if they’re good at heart.
When the Mistress
made me she didn’t have to love me, but she did.
You hold your paint brushes
like a heart holds a soul.
Each fine hair on the handle
somehow makes you whole.
Green and yellow and blue and grey
your name stretches across my lips like a two-syllable Irish dancer
And wiggles between my teeth.
your name splatters upon every canvas,
in the ashes of every ashtray.
Can I see the insides of your soul?
A black coffee and a mocha with whipped cream.
I asked for chocolate sprinkles
to match the freckles on your nose.
You make me feel like coffee tastes.
like wiggling toes
and hand-me-down clothes.
can I see the insides of your soul?
Gazing at your face directly in the sun
may be the best thing that I’ve ever done,
because your watermelon wedge smile
makes my body tingle.
makes my heart concave
and I thought I was brave
until you made me stand on stilts.
the hopeless romantic has hope.
may the mystery of your soul be a legend-
finger cuts and hand soap.
I’ll pack away your supplies,
whilst packing away mine:
your paint brushes and my storyline.
You won’t answer,
so ill play our song.
and you won’t respond.
And I’ll hope that the next time my heart runs away with me,
there will be someone willing to come along.
THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE CORE OF EVERYTHING I’VE BEEN PINNING ON FAI FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG AND IT’S FINALLY REAL AND TRUE AND HERE.
KUROGANE IS GOING FOR THE THROAT.
I love Fai’s shadow stretching so high behind him because
the implication here is that he’s the
shadow. The smiling Fai is the person he puts on display for the world so
he can hide behind it in the collected darkness, a shade that no-one ever looks
at, and this is Kurogane making all of my dreams come true and finally turning
the mirror back in on itself.
AND THEN HE USES THE KIDS AS EVIDENCE, IN THE SAME WAY THAT
FAI HIMSELF NOTED TO HIS DISMAY BACK IN OUTO. HE CARES FOR THIS FAMILY MORE
THAN HE EVER PLANNED TO, MORE THAN HE EVER WANTED
TO, And Kurogane saying this to
him is the ultimate sign that Fai has failed his goal in every single way, because it means he knows it too, and that he knows it all.
AND NOW MY WHOLE HEART IS SCREAMING BECAUSE FAI SEIZES
KUROGANE’S ACCUSATION AND TURNS IT INTO AN EXCUSE.
He says “I said it, didn’t I? I wasn’t going to die.” That
was in Koryo, too. Fai’s pretending that the magic was purely in self-interest –
which, on the first level, is the sign that he’s lost the battle on the “I don’t
use magic” front, but making a decent attempt at the “I don’t actually
care for anyone” claim.
But Kurogane JUST
SLAMS THE TRUTH DOWN.
HE THROWS IN THE FINAL ACCUSATION. FAI CARES.
AND HE DOES. THERE EVIDENCE IS EVERYWHERE AND THERE’S NO WAY TO PRETEND IT’S ANYTHING ELSE. He could have resisted the urge to use magic. He could have just let them all be captured and see what happened. But Kurogane points out exactly why he didn’t; because they might not all have survived.
It’s not even about them as a collective unit. They might have gotten out of it eventually but what if Sakura died in the process. What if Syaoran died in the process. Or Kurogane.
Fai was at the point where he was no longer willing to risk any of those outcomes, not even a little bit. So without any prodding from anyone at all HE HIMSELF CHOSE TO USE HIS MAGIC AS AN ACCEPTABLE PRICE FOR ALL OF THEIR CONTINUED SAFETY.
IRREVOCABLY: HE LOVES THEM.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE ON THE TABLE AND IT’S CRUSHED HIS
ENTIRE PERSONA AND TORN IT TO PIECES.
AND THEN FAI SPEAKS, BUT HESITANTLY.
WHICH IS A FIRST.
IT’S ACTUAL HONESTY DROPPING FROM HIS TONGUE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME, SO UNFAMILIAR TO HIM
NOW THAT HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO DO IT.
AND THERE IT IS.
It was like pulling teeth to get it out of him but HE DID
KUROGANE GOT THE TRUTH OF FAI’S PERSONALITY OUT OF HIM.
This is honestly one of my favourite things to ever happen in this
There was one ceiling tile that wasn’t completely aligned
with the others. It had been driving Nico crazy since he woke up. But he found
himself staring at it anytime he was alone. Which was often. Aside from the
nurses and doctors that checked on him, no one else came in.
Ever since Will’s outburst, Nico had asked to keep visitors
away. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his friends what had happened. Surely
they’d heard it too. Surely they’d heard all the things Will said, all the
things he’d called him.
The moment kept replaying in his head as he stared at the
tile. Over and over. Even when he slept, he didn’t get a break from it. In the
back of his mind, the shouts were still echoing.
“Ready to go home today?” Dr. Ass- something asked him. Nico
shrugged. “I suggest you stay away from alcohol. You’re too young to give
yourself liver damage.”
Nico rolled his eyes and pulled at the ends of his hair.
“Yeah, well. Easy for you to say. You have your life made. Nothing to run away
from. I’m trying to run away from everything.”
“Everything?” the doctor asked.
“I’m not suicidal,” he snapped, knowing that if he said the
wrong thing, he’d have to stay longer and get checked into a psych ward. “I’m
just saying… drinking stops the thinking. It always has. So I drink enough to
“Well what were you trying to forget this time? Because
obviously it didn’t work until you reached unconsciousness.” Nico averted his
gaze and stared at the IV in his arm. “Alright then. I hope I don’t have to see
you back here with the same problem, Nico.” He nodded and watched as the doctor
removed the IV and gave him some regular clothes that Percy and Annabeth had
brought in for him.