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lu-is-not-ok · 8 months ago

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Hello! Just wanted to say that I've been reading your posts and analyses for awhile now, and I really enjoy them! So, I also thought of sharing a sort of theory of mine, bc I'm very interested in hearing what you might think about it.

For starters, these lines from Jia Xichun are very intriguing:

«No amount of pain could wake it from... whatever this dazed state it's in. As you can see...»

«... it must've been long driven mad from pain. Reminds you of the tricks from back home that could induce such an effect, doesn't it? Big brother.»

For two reasons. 1. This is the first time (iirc) in the story where Hong Lu doesn't reply and stays silent and seemingly uneasy; 2. The fact that this "dazed state" as it is described actually kind of reminds of Hong Lu's usual behavior a bit?

To elaborate, after her lines the attention was drawn back to the Priest, and his face was described as "serene". And who's facial expression was also described in a similar manner, precisely, with a literal synonym? Of course, Hong Lu, during the TKT Intervallo:

«The culprit wasn't the only one who suddenly began to behave strangely. Hong Lu did, too.»

«His face relaxed into a tranquil look, as though he was ready to let something go.

... Or perhaps... that was an express of liberation.»

And also to mention how the Priest started reminiscing similarly to how Hong Lu tells stories about his family (but idk, I'm afraid I am starting to reach even harder for this😭)

All in all, my theory, if you can call it that, is that perhaps those "tricks from back home" where actually performed on Hong Lu. This could potentially explain his constant aloofness, his reaction to Xichun's words (she brought up some of his traumatic memories?), and why exactly he has one of the most deranged IDs — because he has already been long driven mad from pain.

I really hope I worded this well enough, and I don't know if I sound like a lunatic or if I actually cooked something when I was thinking abt this at 2 am. And well, I'm also probably not the first one to think of this. But anyways, still thought this is worth bringing up!

Well, I hope you enjoy the Xichun Sin Analysis I just posted earlier then! That being said, there is something interesting I want to bring up with regards to this theory you pose, as it's tangentially related to the bits you reference and also it's been sitting in my head for a while now.

First point - I definitely agree that when Xichun brings up the "tricks" that can leave people in a similar state to the Priest, it's something Hong Lu has experienced himself.

We see Hong Lu has a tendency to avoid topics that bother him at all cost, like how he actively tries to redirect conversations in Hell's Chicken when he's being questioned regarding what he thinks could lead him into Distorting and when he senses Meursault is about to verbally lay into him. It's a tactic he employs very often as a distraction from the weirder things he says.

Interestingly enough, I believe Canto 7 is the first time we see Hong Lu avoid topics not through redirection, but through shutting down. That interaction you brought up isn't the first time in the Canto that he's rendered speechless either. In part 1, he's shown to respond with silence when both Rodya and Sinclair comment on their dislike of Xichun, being seemingly uncomfortable with the way they're talking about her.

And then there's a scene even earlier on in Part 1 that left a really, really major impression on me. Which. I can talk about now!

This, I believe, is the first time in Canto 7 where we see Hong Lu properly shut down in response to something. Something about what Xichun has said made him completely stop what he was doing earlier. His entire approach to the conversation changes in this moment. Earlier on he was excitedly asking questions, trying to give advice and gather information, but after this moment, Hong Lu is rendered completely passive, his lines being reduced to only responding to Xichun is saying in a very... honestly weird way.

It's not obvious in the transcript by itself, but his tone is... odd, compared to the way he was speaking earlier. In addition to that, every expression Hong Lu has during this conversation after this point are ones that actively have him not looking at Xichun, either using his closed eyes sprite or looking to the side sprite.

This moment struck me very, very heavily the first time I got to it in my plathrough. Part of it is because of the weird unnatural shift Hong Lu's behavior takes in this moment that I wasn't even consciously noticing until a reread. The other part is that the exact words Xichun says to Hong Lu that triggers this are ones that reminded me of something very specific in Dream of the Red Chamber.

There is a chapter fairly early on in Hong Lu's source novel that I can only describe as Bao-yu being verbally and emotionally abused by his father for the entire chapter. His father takes Bao-yu along as he shows off his garden to his acquaintances, and every time Bao-yu speaks up, whether by being prompted to or on his own, his father chastises him excessively. I don't remember the exact words, but the framing is pretty clear about the fact that Bao-yu's father sees his son's behavior as being a source of embarassment to himself in front of his acquaintances.

The kind of abuse shown in that chapter is downright stomach-churning in how realistically it is potrayed. It's genuinely upsetting and one of the main reasons I was unable to continue reading much further past that point.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Project Moon decided the thing that made Hong Lu have a shift in his behavior was being told him being himself is a cause of embarassment for someone else in his family. ...And I think Xichun's immediate reaction shows she realizes what is happening as well. It's very telling she doesn't bring up Hong Lu 'not getting better since the last time they've met' until this moment.

Because I don't think the thing he hasn't gotten better from is his upbeat, naive attitude. I believe it's his trauma response he's exhibiting right here. To become passive, downright submissive, and simply take everything that's being dealt to him without objections.

...Which segues nicely into the second point! Because the 'serene daze' shown on the Priest? The tranquility and peace Hong Lu exhibits in TKT, which is outright called out as strange by Dante? I believe it's the exact same as the trauma response I highlighted earlier. It's the immediate instinct to just lay down and take the pain because trying to fight back would only prolong the suffering.

The line about that expression being potentially "an express of liberation" is very telling. On the one hand, this Canto only further cements the fact that Hong Lu is just as passively suicidal as Yi Sang was before going through Canto 4. On the other, it directly ties back to Hong Lu potentially believing that the less resistance he shows, the sooner he'll be freed from suffering.

I already briefly went insane over the following line in a seperate post, but it feels extremely important to bring it up in here as well.

This line. This. Fucking. Line. Directly creates parallels between Oblivion and Naivete, drawing parallels between Donqui/Sancho and Hong Lu. And it's not that hard to see why.

We see that Donqui/Sancho's choice to embrace Oblivion, to completely try and erase her former identity and fall into a dream is motivated by her wishing to escape her reality, to stop thinking about the bloodshed and violence.

This line, and what we see of how Hong Lu acts throughout this Canto, is making it clear that Hong Lu's naive attitude, his constant willingness to assume the best of everyone around him, is just another part of his trauma response I've pointed out earlier.

It's how he escapes the violence he's been subjected to, the reality he's been living in. After all, the explanation he gives for why he wasn't afraid when the Time Killer tried to kill him... is because he understands why people want to hurt him. He didn't fight back when his siblings tried to kill him, because he knew why they would want to do that.

Because he tries to assume the best of everyone, tries to understand the reasons they do what they do, tries to be naively innocent, he's able to accept the pain and let it happen. Because if he can't, if he's forced to face none of what was done to him was justified... Well...

...This is where I would like to jump off and go on a tangent about my own theory. You see, you bring up the story the Priest starts telling to compare it to how Hong Lu acts with his anecdotes, but I think there's something much deeper going on with that story. Look at how the Priest begins it.

It's very clear the story he's telling is him directly comparing someone among the Sinners to Lorenzo, the Bloodfiend he's talking about. Dante's narration doesn't specify who the Priest means, as they only mentioned that "He looked at us", but it's clear from his words that he means a Single Specific Person here.

On my initial readthrough I assumed this was about Donqui, as this is her Canto after all, but... I no longer believe that's the case. In fact, I believe that the Sinner being used as a parallel to Lorenzo here is Hong Lu.

Let me give my evidence first.

One - We know the Priest, even in his daze, still recognizes Donqui as Sancho. The way he ends off his story says as much.

It's clear from his words and his actions that he's actively blaming Sancho for what happened to Lorenzo, and what he believes has happened to Cassetti as well. This would align with the feelings all of the named Kindreds we mett express towards her. So, to me at least, it's clear that the Priest wouldn't compare Sancho to Lorenzo in a way he has here.

Two - The framing of the scene and what follows later puts a lot of focus on Hong Lu.

Hong Lu is extremely present during this scene. Not only is the Priest compelled to share the story right after we see Hong Lu shut down at what Xichun has said, but the CG that follows his story inexplicably includes Hong Lu in it, listening intently.

And not only that, but soon after the Priest is taken away and Sansón tells another story, we get the moment of Donqui telling Dante she thinks it's Hong Lu's turn in the Golden Bough horrors.

If this were a game made by anyone else, I would take this as a self-aware joke pointing fun at how much focus Hong Lu has gotten in a Canto that's not his and move on. But this isn't anyone else.

This is Project Moon, who have a very Notable Track Record of hiding extremely important reveals and foreshadowing in one-off lines during comedic moments, especially in Limbus. See Canto 2 and Hell's Chicken. I genuinely believe the reason this joke exists here is to draw our attention not only to the parallels between Donqui/Sancho and Hong Lu, but also to the moments where Hong Lu is already the focus.

Three - The phrasing the Priest uses to refer to whoever he's comparing to Lorenzo.

The way he addresses this person and the rest of the group is very interesting, as there's emphasis put on his choice of the word "friends" to describe them. This feels important, as earlier on, in Part 1, Hong Lu himself denies Xichun's assessment that the Sinners are his faction, deliberately calling them his friends. Just like here the Priest calls the people accompanying the one he's directing the story at their friends.

So... what does that all mean for Hong Lu to be directly compared to Lorenzo? Well, let's take a quick look at what Lorenzo's story is.

Lorenzo is initially described as a Bloodfiend filled with positivity, to the point that the Priest thinks he didn't have anything to actually confess for. We see him think the way he's able to eat so many hemobars in one sitting as impressive, seeming completely oblivious to the the fact it's a clear sign the hemobars do nothing for Bloodfiends nutritionally.

This attitude completely changes however after Lorenzo tastes blood for the first time. He completely loses himself to obsession, spending hours licking a syringe just to be able to taste it. He completely loses his hope in the hemobars, having the drastic realization they do nothing, and lamenting how much longer he has to keep on living like this.

The story ends with the Priest remarking that after that shift, the only time he had seen Lorenzo genuinely happy was when he was about to be buried alive, when his head and brain were already completely decimated to the point he should be dead.

This... is already a lot.

Lorenzo's initial attitude, his positivity and naive belief that the hemobars are good despite the evidence to the contrary, are extremely close to how Hong Lu is right now. Upbeat, oblivious, always assuming the best of others. Hong Lu's passively suicidal tendencies could also track to Lorenzo's ending, how it's clear that Hong Lu is extremely willing to accept his own death.

...And then there's the whole middle of that story. There's a lot of different things this could be foreshadowing for Hong Lu's arc, but one thing is clear - he's not going to stay his upbeat self forever.

Every hint we've had about Hong Lu thus far. The implication he knows there's something that could make him distort all the way back in Hell's Chicken. The way we're told this Canto that Hong Lu's eye is dimming right after he comments how Donqui's twinkling eyes show she's "lucid", or living completely detached from reality. And then this, him being directly compared to a story of a Bloodfiend who upon finally being hit with reality begins to spiral and completely lose all his hope.

It all points to the idea that Hong lu will be forced to face his reality. To understand that his hemobars do jack shit and always have, that perhaps his family have never truly cared for him. And that realization could very well be the thing that finally breaks him.

I mean, his IDs already point to it, no? After all, Fanghunt Lu, possibly the most violent and deranged Hong Lu ID released thus far, one released alongside this part mind you, is shown to be actively thinking about and doubting the nature of family. "What even is a real family, I wonder?"

I'm just saying, if there's any Sinner who deserves to go utterly apeshit in their Canto, it would be Hong Lu. Let. My guy. Break Everything.

#ask #anon #lu speaketh #limbus company #hong lu lcb #canto 7 part 2 #canto 7 spoilers #canto 7 part 2 spoilers #lcb analysis #lcb speculation #im soooo normal

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warystares · 2 years ago

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PERHAPS THEIR GREATEST GIFT AS AN entrepreneur & small business owner, mikaere thinks, is their keen memory for faces ; if you've ever once stepped foot inside his shop, it's highly likely mika will greet you with all the warmth and fanfare of an old friend upon even just your second visit. and before the cabinet of curiosities, this talent for remembering served a different purpose ― darker, he thinks, but good for business all the same. lucrative. ( all he ever needed was a photograph. just one. ) in their mind's eye rests a comprehensive catalogue of everyone they've ever met. everyone they've ever KILLED. all of this just to say that even if their hippocampus were to suddenly shrivel and curl up like a smashed spider in one of the dustier corners of this old place, even if they woke up tomorrow with AMNESIA and wholly unable to tell their ass from their elbows, mika still wouldn't have a problem remembering the bastard who's just come strolling through their front door. detective vincent nolan ― a nosy fucker who's been so far up their ass for so many goddamn decades now mika thinks it's insulting they haven't gotten a single dinner out of the deal. not in all the time he's been getting figuratively FUCKED by good ol' vinny.

( but who are they kidding ? it's still the most action they've seen in a while. fuck, that's DEPRESSING. )

❝ how many times do we have to establish that you're OLDER than me, mate ? ❞ appearing from behind a shabby velvet curtain with an unnecessarily dramatic flourish, mikaere approaches the counter and fixes a narrowed gaze on THE THORN IN THEIR SIDE. ❝ and even if you weren't, clearly i wear it better. OLD MAN, my ass. ❞ hands come to settle on leather-clad hips as a scoff tumbles pursed lips. junk ? what does he even know about any of ― no. dark eyes roll toward the flickering bulbs of a dozen different chandeliers overhead ( they should really pull out the ladder and change a few of those... oh, but it's just so much ! another time, then. ) as he makes a point to criticize mika's wares. ❝ good thing it's not HOARDING then, ❞ they huff. ❝ and since you brought up last time, is there a reason for this visit, vinny, or did you just wake up full of PISS & VINEGAR and decide you wanted to see my pretty face ? ❞

who: @warystares ( mika )

where: cabinet of curiosities

one of vinny's faults, some one say one of many but he'd tell you not to talk to any of his exes, is that he doesn't know when to give up. the words aren't in his vocabulary. so when he ran across mikaere kahn as a homicide detective all those years ago and couldn't get anything to pin to them, he wasn't willing to let it rest. he knew they were the person who did it, and over time he suspected one or two others that may be on the roster but those were solved. it had been years since he found them on his radar. before vinny was unit chief, a couple divorces had gone by, and he was sure he only had a few grays back then. that didn't stop him from showing up in their space whenever the time was available. determined to catch them for something. once a criminal, always a criminal.

"where yous at old man?" vinny called out, walking into the store with eyes scanning either side of him to take in all the junk they continued to try to haul off as merchandise. slowly making his way to the front, hoping to catch a known face coming out of the back so he had reasonable cause to suspect there were nefarious dealings going on there. no such luck yet. "how is it possible for you to have more junk since i last came in here? hoarding is a serious problem, for both the city and yourself." it was more of a teasing insult than genuine, but he did wonder sometimes.

#✘ mika kahn | conversation #✘ mika / vincent 001 #i wasn't going to reply to this immediately i swear #but my brain needed a break from starters and you caught me while i was still in Mika Mode or whatever #idk i'm high and this was fun to write anyway back 2 starters

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separatist-apologist · 1 year ago

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The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Nesta Archeron had bread in the oven.

It had been Cassian’s idea that morning. Why not check on the sourdough starter they’d been fermenting and try it in some bread? It was obvious he merely wanted to spend time with her in the kitchen and Nesta was hard pressed to think of a reason they shouldn’t. It was moody that morning—a thunderstorm had rolled through and showed no signs of relenting.

They were stuck inside and she’d reasoned it was better to do something rather than what they were usually doing.

And still, with twenty minutes left on the oven timer, Nesta found herself on her knees anyway, Cassian’s massive cock in her mouth. It started with a kiss that became two, became four, became Nesta up on the table while Cassian pressed himself between her legs. And then everything became frantic and desperate. She’d just managed to get his pants around his ankles first, but if she’d waited another thirty seconds, she’d be spread across the table.

Not for the first time, either.

She told herself just liked to watch him (a lie). Cassian was terrifying, a force to be reckoned with. He was an immovable object right up until Nesta was sliding her hands between his legs—and then he was as malleable as clay in her hands. Did he genuinely like her, she wondered? Or was she merely a distraction?

There was only one way to find out. Nesta had been plotting for the same amount of time she’d been touching him to get her hands on his phone. Sitting next to him on the sofa the night before had revealed his passcode—0000—and now all she needed was to so thoroughly exhaust him, he wouldn’t notice her snooping through his messages.

She just wanted to know, once and for all. What was his plan for her? Had Rhysand instructed Cassian to kill her? And what of her sisters? Nesta told herself once she knew, she could better plan…but that didn’t account for her actions right then. Nor was it entirely true to act like this was merely all part of some brilliant scheme. Not when Cassian threw his head back, hand holding her jaw while Nesta struggled to take the rest of him into her throat.

“Fuck, Nes—just like that,” he panted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Nesta could feel the bulging vein just under the head of his cock, a tell-tale sign that he was about to come. She braced herself, eyes fluttering shut, just as Cassian grunted with pleasure and poured himself into her mouth.

The timer went off at the exact same time, thwarting Cassian’s obvious plans to reciprocate his pleasure. That was both disappointing and for the best, she decided. The night before, Nesta had passed out with her cheek stuck to his chest and woke to bright sunlight and the smell of burning coffee.

Not this time. This time, Nesta intended to wear Cassian out and stuff him full of food and let the Georgia heat do the rest. While she made her way to the oven, Cassian hastily pulled up his shorts.

“Is it wrong that I want to know every man you’ve ever practiced on?”

Nesta bent over the steaming oven to examine her sourdough. “What are you going to do, shoot them?”

“Yeah,” Cassian replied, elbowing her out of the way. His hands were clad in bright pink oven mitts and his dark hair was a tangled mess around his otherwise handsome face. It was the exact kind of logic a mobster would employ—she belongs to me, so I’ll pretend no one else has touched her.

Like a toddler hoarding toys at the playground, she thought wryly. She’d grown up in this life and had always rebelled at the idea that men owned their wives. And yet…yet, Cassian’s possessive nature wasn’t awful, either. Maybe because she knew the entire affair was time limited. Either he’d try to kill her or he’d be discovered by the actual feds and wind up in a prison cell.

So what did it hurt to enjoy herself for now?

“Looks good. Want me to grab butter, or—”

“We should let it cool down,” Nesta said, eyeing his naked, tattooed chest. “Want to do some yoga with me before we eat?”

The look on his face screamed no even as Cassian smiled easily and said, “Sure thing, baby.”

What followed was torture for them both. It was already miserably humid and insufferably hot. Nesta wanted to claw herself out of the clingy fabric she wore and hoped none of it showed on her face. She was one with the world, serene and unbothered. The sun could not hurt her so long as she slathered a thick layer of sunscreen all over her body. She’d bullied Cassian into putting some on, too—a careful ruse to run her hands up and down the toned muscles of his body though he needed it, too.

They practically crawled back into the cold air, with Nesta flinging open the freezer to stick her head inside while Cassian drank straight from the kitchen faucet.

“You’re a masochist,” Cassian accused, eyes squeezed shut as replaced his mouth with his entire face beneath the stream of cold water.

“I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Nesta said, taking some frozen, bagged broccoli out to place against her bare stomach. Cassian watched with open fascination, though he didn’t move to touch her.

“No more outdoor workouts. Lets go to a gym like civilized people,” he breathed, rising to his full height.

“The gym is unairconditioned—”

“Nesta, I can’t live this way,” he half pleaded, half joked. “I’ll put weights in the basement and run at two am.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip, thinking of the life Cassian was proposing. It was so easy to picture—and dangerous, too.

“I’m gonna shower, and then we’re going to eat some of this bread,” Cassian promised, pressing a quick kiss against her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“You got it,” she lied, eyes snagging on his phone. It was exactly where he’d left it, tossed casually to the kitchen table along with all the mail she didn’t want to look at. Nesta waited unmoving, listening as the bathroom door clicked shut. A moment later the sound of water hitting the porcelain tub filled the silence. Nesta counted to ten before lunging, typing in the passcode.

There, pinned at the very top of his messages, was a group chat with no other descriptor than a bat emoji. She wondered the significance as she scanned the names.

Rhysand: I don’t care what you need to do—drag E back and lock her in a closet if you have to.

Azriel: Easy for you to say while you’re playing house. She broke my fucking nose with that stupid bat—and she’s with a goddamn agent.

Cassian: How hard could it possibly be to keep track of one oblivious woman?

Azriel: Eat shit.

Rhysand: Are you tracking her? What does the agent know?

Azriel: He’s got family up in Appleton. Headed that way—as far as I know, they don’t know who I was.

Rhysand: Take the agent out, no questions asked. Secure E through whatever measures necessary—do not kill her.

Azriel: Wasn’t planning on it, but got it.

Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest. E—that had to be Elain. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about Elain but now…fuck. A quick search of her phone told her Appleton was in Wisconsin. If Elain was headed that way, Nesta needed to find her and warn her.

With shaking fingers, Nesta sent a text.

Cassian: Want help with a trace? Send me her number.

Please, please, please let them buy it, she prayed silently. Nesta’s heart was the loudest sound in the house, beating so violently she could barely hear the sound of Cassian’s shower over it. Her hands shook, holding his phone as she waited. The water cut off and Nesta was certain she’d been caught—Cassian would get the text later, realize what she’d done, and the entire thing would be blown.

Azriel: Sure. 555-201-9855. See if you can figure out where Vanserra is taking her. I’ll continue following behind.

Cassian: Meet me in Chicago? I can help lure her home with Nesta.

Azriel: Will she cooperate?

Cassian: Got her eating out of the palm of my hand.

Azriel: See you soon.

Nesta scribbled the number down on the back of an unopened bill before deleting the messages she’d sent. Nesta scrambled for her own phone, punching in the number to the sister she hadn’t spoken to in years. That ought to buy Elain some time, she reasoned, heart still pounding. Just enough for Nesta to get to her before anyone else did, anyway.

Nesta: Elain? This is Nesta. Rhysand is after you—they’re tracking you. Hide and tell no one where you are until I can get closer. I’m on my way—we have to find Feyre.��

There. With that sent, and a clock ticking loudly in her head, Nesta all but ran to her bedroom and the gun she had hidden in her bedside table. Nesta had it in her hands, a small bag thrown together years ago slung over her shoulder, when she and Cassian met in the hall. His eyes dipped to the gun in her hand before he offered her a lopsided smile.

“Everything okay, Nes?” he asked, running a hand down his naked chest. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist was almost too small for him, accentuating the vee of his abdomen and the appendage hanging just between.

“I know what you are,” she whispered, hating the waver in her voice. Cassian’s smile only widened. “I’ll shoot.”

“Put the gun down, baby,” Cassian murmured, his voice honeyed and sweet. “Let's talk about this.”

“I’ll kill you,” she warned, well aware that her words were a lie. She couldn’t—even knowing who he was and what he was capable of, Nesta knew she couldn’t kill him.

Cassian advanced, unconcerned with the gun in her hand. She supposed he was used to seeing them, used to having them pointed directly at him. He was The Lord of Bloodshed, after all. That didn’t stop Nesta, who’d been going to the gun range long before feds ever dumped her in this swampy nowhere town.

Kill him and be done with it.

“Then why were you on your knees this morning, Nes?” Cassian whispered, those hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “You had my cock in your mouth. I didn’t even have to ask.”

“What happens in the bedroom and what happens out here are two separate things, Cass,” was all Nesta could think to say in response. She really was sorry, in that regard. She knew he didn’t see it that way.

Cassian shook his head, the loose ends of his wavy, dark hair brushing those muscular shoulders. “I’ll find you.”

“You’ll be dead,” she replied, willing the words to be true.

“You can’t kill me and we both know it,” Cassian told her. She hated that he was right, just like she knew that if she didn’t, he would hunt her down. This was personal, now—beyond the lies she’d told on her sister's behalf.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand had found them and Nesta needed to get to Elain before something horrible happened. Then they’d find Feyre and pray Rhysand hadn’t gotten to her first.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered before she pulled the trigger. Cassian howled, crumpling to the ground. He wasn’t dead—just wounded. She’d shot him in the leg.

Nesta turned, knowing she only had minutes to put distance between them before Cassian rallied, caught her, and did god knows what to her. He looked enraged as she made her way toward the front door.

“This isn’t over between us, Nesta! I’ll have you back by the end of the week!”

She grabbed the keys to his jeep and made her way outside, fingers shaking. Nesta tossed the gun to the passenger seat before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had the car out of the gravel drive before she pulled out her phone, texting people she knew better than to drag into this mess.

Gwyn and Emerie were waiting for her when she pulled up to Emerie’s place.

“Start from the beginning,” Emerie ordered the moment Nesta swung from the blue vehicle while Gwyn held a shotgun in both hands, eyes pinned on Nesta. It was an odd moment, telling her friends—who were like sisters in a different sort of way—everything that had transpired half a decade before.

Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t turn on her, though. Nesta didn’t know how she knew that, only that it was true. As Nesta drove, she told them everything they didn’t already know—starting from the beginning with the murder of their father. Nesta told them how she’d lied to the police for her sister, how it had been her idea to kill two birds with one stone and frame Rhysand. She hadn’t expected to be put in witness protection or she might have decided to take all the money their father had and flee the country instead.

One decision, made by a young, impulsive woman, had cost the three of them so much. Nesta couldn’t bring herself to regret anything that happened, a fact she told her friends while clenching her jaw. Let them see her, she supposed. Calculated and cold when necessary, and willing to make the hard decisions no one else would. Better they knew upfront than to find out later and decide they wanted nothing to do with her.

“So there’s a mobster after your sisters?” Gwyn confirmed, the shotgun now resting in her lap.

“Rhysand will kill Feyre if he finds her,” Nesta lamented, squeezing the steering wheel so violently her knuckles were bloodless. “I knew when Cassian came, but…I figured they hadn’t found her if he was still with me.”

“It sounds like they only have you and Elain,” Emerie reminded the pair, reasonably, sitting in the middle back seat so she could position herself between Nesta and Gwyn. “If we can get to Elain first, we could go to the police and tell them what we know.”

“Did you take his phone?” Gwyn asked.

Nesta sighed. “I didn’t.”

“That’s okay,” Gwyn reassured her, teal eyes hard with determination. “We’ll figure it out while we drive.”

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin,” Emerie added cheerfully.

And that was that, Nesta supposed.

CASSIAN:

“What the fuck do you mean, Nesta Archeron shot you?”

Gritting his teeth, Cassian held a lighter over the wound in his thigh, having already poured alcohol in an attempt to sterilize it. He didn’t have time for a hospital nor the inclination to spend a night hooked up to machines while nurses fussed over him.

“Don’t know how to make it anymore clear, boss,” Cassian snapped, his pain making him mean. “She fucking shot me, she knows who I am, and she’s on the run.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you and Azriel?”

“Enough to fill a textbook probably,” Cassian mumbled, wincing as he rose to his feet. When he got her back he was going to teach her how to aim better. If she’d been going for his heart, she’d failed abysmally. Not that he wanted her to kill him, of course. Cassian wanted Nesta back in his bed even if he had to tie her up to get her there.

“When Az and I are back together, we’ll have fewer problems.”

“You’ve got forty eight hours before to lock this whole thing down,” Rhysand warned. Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Practically, if Nesta and Elain slipped their leashes, they’d go straight to the cops and it would be hard to deny his involvement this time. At least where their father was concerned, Rhysand was actually innocent—one of the Archerons had killed their father. Cassian’s money was on Elain given her use of the bat against Azriel, though in truth it could have been any one of them. Nesta had a penchant for violence that rivaled her bastard father.

But more realistically, Cassian simply wanted her, reason be damned. If she’d just come to him, he could have reassured her that no one wanted to hurt Elain. Hell, for all Cassian knew, Azriel was in love with her, too. It seemed to be their current curse, after all.

He’d been down fifteen minutes—long enough to give her a moderate head start but not so long Cassian couldn’t easily catch up with her. She’d need to make stops…and she’d taken his jeep. Cassian could track its progress as he slid into Nesta’s smaller coup, leg screaming in pain. At least she hadn’t shot his driving leg, he reasoned before swallowing an ungodly amount of ibuprofen. It would have to do.

The last thing he needed was to get pulled over for being under the influence.

What Cassian really needed was sleep, preferably with Nesta curled up beside him. As he drove, his mind wandered to the sight of her flushed cheeks and shaking hands as she held that gun between them. Was it deranged, he thought, to admit he’d been turned out?

Would she use it in the bedroom, he wondered?

God, he hoped she would. Cassian intended to ask her when he had her back. With the location of his jeep tracking on his phone, Cassian set his course and tried to keep his mind off his leg. Azriel was after Elain, but had promised to help Cassian if they caught up with each other, and it was clear Nesta was headed toward them both. It had been easy enough to guess what she’d sent Azriel and Azriel, frustrated with the situation, hadn’t bothered to ask himself why Cassian would offer to help track Elain’s technology.

As if he knew jack shit about that sort of thing.

There was more than enough time to ruminate on his failures. While Rhys waxed poetic about moving Feyre without her figuring out the truth, Cassian focused on catching up with Nesta. He caught her just outside Bowling Green, Kentucky. She’d brought her friends with her—Gwyn, with her vibrant hair and a shotgun tossed casually in the passenger seat and Emerie, her dark hair pulled off her face in a messy ponytail and flip flops on her feet. They could have been on a road trip.

They weren’t.

Cassian could have dragged Nesta back and killed her friends if he’d wanted to. Watching her outside a truckstop, he weighed the pros and cons of the killings before ultimately deciding against it. Nesta would never forgive him and Cassian didn’t like killing people without a reason. Gwyn and Emerie were innocent—it didn’t sit right with him to take their lives.

Besides—Cassian wanted to see what was going to happen next, Rhysand be damned. Everything was a mess already—if the FBI agent hadn’t already alerted his superiors, well, he would before Cassian crossed into another state. Rhys might come up with some lie that explained what they were doing, but Cassian doubted anyone would believe them.

Might as well enjoy himself.

And trailing Nesta was immensely enjoyable. He liked the way her mind worked. She was logical, picking the most expedient routes and when she stopped, it was always somewhere populated. Somewhere people could hear her scream. Cassian might have liked that, but practically, didn’t want to sit in a holding cell for twenty four hours waiting on a judge.

She’d have to stop eventually, and stop she did a day and a half later in Chicago.

Cassian knew Nesta and her friends were exhausted. They’d traded driving, but he very much doubted any of them were getting quality sleep. Neither was Cassian, truthfully, but he reasoned that he was better at keeping himself up, his instincts sharper.

Azriel was waiting for him when he arrived, his face a mask of sharp, cold fury. “Give up?” “I’m not getting fucking arrested,” Azriel snapped, hands jammed in his well-fitted jean pockets. “What are you doing?”

“Watching,” Cassian replied, nodding his head across the busy intersection where Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were standing. They hadn’t noticed him, laboring under the belief they’d lost him.

“What happened to your leg?”

Cassian grimaced. “She shot me.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed as he ran a scarred hand through dark, mussed hair. “And she’s alive?”

“I’m bringing her home,” Cassian said, throwing a wink at his exasperated friend. “What’s Elain’s apartment like?”

“A death trap,” Azriel replied without emotion. “They can get in, but they can’t get out.”

“Where’s Morrigan?”

“Ahead of you,” Azriel muttered, whipping his phone out to make a call. It would be easier if they had a third person helping them, and unlike Azriel and Cassian, Mor was cold-blooded in a way that made even Rhys hesitate at times. Cassian watched from his spot behind a street cart selling tourist items as Nesta and her friends jogged toward the towering skyscraper and vanished inside.

Good girl.

Getting her out without causing a scene would be another thing entirely. It was a big city, he reasoned. He’d have Mor park right out front, flashers on, and just dump Nesta in the back before anyone could say anything. He doubted anyone would be racing to rescue her, besides.

Mor arrived in tight jeans and a tank top, blonde hair pulled in a thick, deceptively messy ponytail. Cassian knew her well enough to know she labored over it, every wispy strand placed by Mor’s own immaculate hands.

“What needs cleaned up?” she asked, flashing them both a perfect, white smile.

“Upstairs,” Azriel muttered, beckoning for Mor to follow after him. She was Rhys’s second in command and even Cassian didn’t know everything she did for her cousin. Only that she was called in when shit went south. Things were so far south that they might have been at the equator. Could Mor drag the missing Archeron back, too?

That was Azriel’s problem. All Cassian needed to worry about was Nesta. Trailing behind Mor, the three made their way into the immaculate lobby and Cassian was struck at the incredibly elegant life Elain Archeron appeared to have been living. While Nesta was holed up in rural Georgia, Elain got to live in screaming civilization. It irked Cassian, even as he recognized the solitude had served him well.

Azriel pushed the number thirteen, staring anywhere but at Mor, who was too busy examining her nails to notice how awkward things were. Cassian said nothing because it was none of his business. Something must have happened, though—Azriel wasn’t standing too close, wasn’t shooting furtive glances. And Mor wasn’t using Cassian as a shield like she often did.

Had they talked, then?

Cassian didn’t ask. Instead, he followed Azriel down a blue carpeted hall that smelled like someone's two day old cooking. Azriel pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door to find a shotgun waiting for him.

“Not another step, pretty boy,” Gwyn said in that southern drawl of hers.

Behind Az, Mor rolled her eyes.

“You think I’m pretty?” Azriel asked casually, unconcerned with the danger he was in.

“That ain’t a compliment,” Gwyn snapped.

“Sounded like one to me,” Azriel replied smoothly. Cassian and Mor exchanged a glance. Since when did Az engage in witty repartee? “What else do you like?”

“Shut up,” Gwyn ordered, but it was too late. Azriel had the upper hand and they all knew it. With the speed of a man used to being threatened, he wrenched the barrel of the shotgun out of her hands and yanked, pulling both the weapon and the woman into his waiting arms. Gwyn yelped, arms pinned to her side as Az tossed the gun behind him for Mor to pick up.

“Quickly,” she ordered as Cassian swept in. Az hadn’t lied—Elain’s apartment was turned upside down, furniture shoved against the walls for his little traps and cameras. Nesta and Emerie had clearly walked right into one, legs tied to the floor in some contraption that shouldn’t have fascinated him as much as it did.

“Hey, Nes,” he said with a grin.

“Fuck you,” she replied, sweet as ever.

“Are you gonna come with me nicely? Or am I going to have to carry you out?”

“Don’t you touch me,” she warned, answering Cassian’s question all the same. Just beside him, Mor was pulling rags from her bag like they were mints, handing one to Cassian before making her way toward the flailing, fighting Gwyn. Cassian let Nesta watch Mor smush the rag over Gwyn’s face so she knew what was waiting for her.

What he’d do if she didn’t agree to come like his good little girl.

Gwyn went limp against Azriel, who merely scooped her up like she was nothing.

“What do you want to do with the two of them?” Mor asked Cassian, eyes finding a silent, but furious looking Emerie. God—this plan was so off the rails it was almost embarrassing. There was only one thing they could do.

“Take them home,” he said.

“Their home? Or our home?” Mor clarified.

“Ours, for now.” Cassian turned back to Nesta.

“Cass,” she tried, the pretty little liar. “You don’t understand. My sisters, they—” “It’s too late for them,” he said. He wasn’t even a lie. “Rhys has Feyre and Elain is on her way back home. The only hold up is you.”

She shook her head. Nesta was smart not to believe him, even if it irked him deeply. Cassian made his way toward her, trapped by Azriel and unable to do anything but watch.

And slap. The moment he crouched in front of her, Nesta slapped him hard. Her nails raked down his cheek, wounding him just enough to rankle him. He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he replied with some regret.

“Make a decision, Cass,” Mor said as she leaned beside Emerie. Emerie didn’t hit, grimacing as Mor brought that rag to her face. “I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a cunt,” Emerie hissed at Mor, who only grinned back.

“I’ve been called worse.”

Mor held the rag to Emerie’s face as Nesta watched, face pale and eyes wide. “Cass,” she whispered.

“Come with me,” he urged, knowing she wouldn’t. Nesta couldn’t. She’d fight him until she decided this was her decision, and then she’d likely fight him a little more. The rest of his life would be a fight—and Cassian wanted it.

“It’s time to go home, baby,” Cassian murmured, pressing a kiss to Nesta’s temple as she tried to wrench away. Putting the rag over her face felt like a betrayal and Cassian had to remind himself that she’d shot him not two days earlier. Mouth to the shell of her ear, he murmured, “We’re even now.”

Hardly, though. Cassian hadn’t held it against her to begin with. Nesta never took her eyes off him, holding her breath until she couldn’t, only to suck in a gasp of poisoned air. It went faster after that, leaving her limp in his arms as Mor undid the traps.

“You’re a bastard for these,” Mor said, looking down at Emerie with an expression Cassian couldn’t quite place.

Azriel onlys shrugged, still holding Gwyn in his arms. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Come on,” Cassian interrupted, not interested in another argument between the pair. “I’m fucking tired and I want to go home.”

Cassian’s leg was killing him, he was bone weary, and a little afraid of what was coming for him. Either the US government or Rhys—and Cassian didn’t know which scared him more. For now, Cassian was resolved to get her home and hope that Feyre wasn’t far behind.

Elain was already lost. There was no getting her back. The best they could hope for was utter silence as Rhys hunted them down, killed the agent hiding her, and brought her into the fold, too.

But it would take time and right now they were nearly out of it.

And it was time to go home.

#nessian #this might need a fifth chapter lord help me

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mcrcki · 9 months ago

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back at it again with a massive combination plotting / starter call !!! very excited to throw characters into this fantasy medieval nightmare time we created. i just love this vibe so much and i can't wait to see how everyone interprets things and makes their own spin on things -- anyways before i keep rambling , quick housekeeping for my call + threads ; please like for plotting, and reply for starters. each character will be capped at FOUR THREADS, and THREE PER WRITER. i may adjust this depending on out of fandom requests and plotted starters. if you do not plot with me and just request, i'll dm you just for quick ideas. you gotta specify who you want starters from or i'm deadass ignoring you xoxo. ** please know that i am taking this opportunity to clear out a ton of threads throughout the week. so i'll be dropping things as time goes on and then when the event starts, i'll be dropping anything left over and starting fresh for post event! (lowkey going on my honeymoon right when this ends so i wont be around for post event stuff until after anyways, hence the big cleanout) but because i ramble, we're gonna stfu now and finally get to character plots !!

alani desilijic tiure | star wars - 1 / 4

she/they pronouns - alani believes dc has always been in this time period since she arrived here, and they work for their father still as a mercenary and helping to slowly infiltrate into higher society. higher risk, higher reward! ➳ potential plots ; clients, nobles she tricks, people she can employ

starters ; jester lavorre ( cassie )

charlie morningstar | hazbin hotel - 3 / 4

she/her pronouns - charlie also believes dc has always been like this since she got into the city from hell, and has fallen in line as whatever role the city deemed her to fill, which was a visiting princess from a neighboring kingdom. she's brought her court with her, as she's traveled here with her father. ➳ potential plots ; members of her court, friends within the castle, people she can help, someone to take her out into the world

starters : angel dust ( sunny ) , sir pentious ( britt ) , vaggie ( risa )

daniela dimitrescu | resident evil : village - 2 / 4

they/she pronouns - a harlot, deadass. she knows dc hasn't always been like this, and they think it's weird as hell, but they aren't going to question it too much. they're kinda having fun being a harlot and luring manthings to their death because ya know, a girl's gotta eat. ➳ potential plots ; people she can lure to eat, people they can menace, if you wanna be a harlot they can help ig

starters : evelyn serpeni ( anna ) , heidi volturi ( swan )

danika fendyr | crescent city - 3 / 4

she/they pronouns - knows dc is different, girl had a fucking gun like three hours ago and was on the phone texting bryce stupid ass memes, and now?? what?? the plague is an actual real problem and not just a joke they can say when they're too hung over? has found some work taking up bounties/monster hunting to keep supernaturals in line while they sort this out ➳ potential plots ; other people who know this isn't right, supernaturals she can track down, people with bounties, a drinking buddy

starters : jennifer check ( anna ) , zhao yunlan ( ollie ), baxian argos ( kasey )

elain archeron-vanserra | a court of thorns and roses - 2 / 4

she/her pronouns - elain is aware that something changed washington, but honestly, she's not really complaining. this is at least slightly closer to her normal life than modern dc was and she's alright with that. she's the sister of a noble lady, so she has just fallen into that world alongside her family. happy to still be doing her gardening and baking her spare time, but is definitely trying to help in some political capacity where she can. ➳ potential plots ; other nobles, friends within the court, anyone who knows anything about being a seer (pls girl is struggling with that)

starters ; satine kryze ( alex ), didyme volturi ( mario )

juliette monrose benoit | the vampire diaries - 0 / 4

she/her pronouns - juliette has no idea washington has ever been different, when she arrived here nearly a year ago, it's always been this time period.. hasn't it? she's an innkeeper, and is just happy to offer a helping hand if anyone needs it. ➳ potential plots ; patrons of the inn, maybe a tax collector she owes money to, someone to help her with her son during the day

kaya dura | star wars - 2 / 4

they/she pronouns - a knight. did we expect any fucking less? girl got dropped here from space and immediately traded lightsabers for swords. they have no idea that dc has been modern before, and is just assuming this is how it's always been. they're happy though, they have no problem just falling in line with the castle guards and protecting people ➳ potential plots ; other members of the guard, a noble they're assigned to protect, some protestor/criminal they can arrest, people they have arrested

starters : kaul hilo ( ollie ) , astrid hofferson ( cassie )

leia organa | star wars - 3 / 4

she/her pronouns - queen organa at your service. keeping life simple and having the presidency just shift to the royal family. leia does not things are different, she very much remembers modern dc, and would like to know how the magic there was able to accomplish this. but she grew up as royalty, this isn't a hard position for her to fill. if anything, it feels more natural than president. ➳ potential plots ; members of the court, other advisors, anyone else who knows something is wrong, citizens she can help, a failed assassination attempt (i don't want her dying i just like drama)

starters ; sheev/ahsoka ( kasey ) , xenia solo ( dee ) , han solo ( mario )

marley bishop | the vampire diaries - 4 / 4

she/they pronouns - local bog witch coming at you. marley is very much aware that things are not right, and thinks it's total bullshit. she just got used to modern dc and cellphones and now you're throwing her into fucking medieval times? she is taunting people to try and burn her at the stake because it's funny and this has to be some fucked up trip, right? ➳ potential plots ; others who think this is a fucked up trip or something, someone they actually convince they're some evil witch, someone who tries to get them to help them with magic, general menaces to society

starters ; dani bishop ( risa ) , mason bishop ( moon ) , quigley quagmire ( cap ) , flora bishop ( mario )

morrigan | a court of thorns and roses - 0 / 4

she/her pronouns - mor is completely unaware, both of her life back home in prythian, and of modern dc. she believes she's always lived here, a visiting lady of another nobles court, living within the castles court for years, rising in status with her ability to determine who is telling the truth and who is lying about their rumors and other gossip surrounding the court. ➳ potential plots ; people she's exposed, friends within the court, friends outside of royalty, someone to help her get her memories of home back, someone who hires her to spy for information

omega | star wars : the bad batch - 3 / 4

she/they pronouns - omega is also completely unaware of their life before dc, and they believe they've always been in this version of washington. they were an orphan here, until they were taken in by feyre, and has lived as a noble since. though, they still cling to some of those past tendencies, sneaking out and committing petty thievery, while occasionally taking on bounties under a different name ➳ potential plots ; their personal guard they escape from, someone who catches them stealing, bounties they've collected, friends within noble society that know about their other "hobbies"

starters : toph beifong ( sunny ), jorah mormont ( alex ) , mouse honrada ( moon )

rosemary winters | resident evil : village - 1 / 4

she/they pronouns - another one !! completely unaware !! rose still doesn't have their actual real life memories, and they also believe dc has always been like this. they're currently studying as an apprentice to an alchemist. has debated becoming a plague doctor but they don't think the outfits look comfortable enough ➳ potential plots ; the alchemist they're the apprentice of, someone to help them get their memories back, maybe other apprentices, friends

starters ; francis barton ( maria )

sella palpatine | star wars - 1 / 4

she/her pronouns - sella has no idea dc was ever different, and has lived in this world since waking up here. it was a strange adjustment at first, but honestly, she likes it enough to not complain. her father is a grand duke, and she follows whatever life he's lined up for her. while also still spending all the time she can be with a certain princess. ➳ potential plots ; friends in the court, her guard, artist friends they can paint with

starters ; serena van der woodsen ( dee )

sophie hatter | howl's moving castle - 2 / 4

she/they pronouns - sophie is aware that something is wrong, and dc has not always been like this, but doesn't know enough about portals and everything to figure out how.. still owns their flower/hat stand, and is happy to keep that for herself and their friends, while also bringing home whatever gossip people are spreading about their husbands castle in the woods. ➳ potential plots ; patrons of their stand/people to buy their hats, people who ask about the hidden castle in the woods, those who claim she's a witch, someone to help with morgan during the day, other employees of the stand

starters ; jesper fahey ( june ) , buttercup utonium ( maria )

sulpicia volturi | twilight - 3 / 4

she/her pronouns - add this to the list of things sulpicia does not like about this city. one moment it was modern, and the next? we're back in time to when she was a damn human? she's on edge, doing her best to hide in plain sight as a noble lady within the court here. ➳ potential plots ; someone who knows their vampire secret (good or bad), friends, the nobles she's in the court of, people they can drink from, perhaps an arranged marriage (she won't follow through with it she's already married but it might be funny)

starters ; phoenix volturi ( atlas ) , lucy westenra ( maria ) , chelsea volturi ( cap )

tatum riley | scream '96 - 4 / 4

she/her pronouns - tatum has no idea dc has been any different from this since waking up in the city, and she's doing her best to just make it through each day without making some comment about her home timeline that will label her as a witch. she's a tavern wench and like.. it's fine, she's fine, she just wishes corsets weren't so uncomfortable. ➳ potential plots ; patrons of the tavern, someone who over hears her talking about home and claims she's a witch, open to an arranged marriage situation

starters ; sanji ( alex ), lott jinrhu ( june ) , billy loomis ( britt ) , kol mikaelson ( moon )

vesta starkos | star wars - 1 / 4

she/they pronouns - vesta thinks dc has always been this way since she arrived, and is kinda loving it. it's so much easier to get people to be afraid of her little freak vibes in this time. she's mainly a thief, but also very much trying to convince people she's a witch just cause she thinks it'd be funny to try and get burned at the stake and then be able to escape :)) ➳ potential plots ; alright who's joining their cult? , people who are intrigued or put off from their awful vibes, someone who catches them stealing

starters ; astrid deetz ( cap )

victoria sutherland | twilight - 1 / 4

she/her pronouns - victoria showing up in dc, seeing the time period is exactly the same as when she was turned : i'm back in the fucking building!!! yeah, even though she's unaware, she also has no idea dc has been any different and man does she hate it. right now she's basically hiding in the woods, but if she can't find food from animals, she is debating just.. being a harlot to lure a meal to her ➳ potential plots ; whoever's getting her her memories back, someone she can drink from, a monster hunter who finds her in the woods

starters ; rosamund du prix ( cassie )

violet sorrengail | fourth wing - 1 / 4

she/her pronouns - violet is currently fully unaware, but once she wakes up here in this timeline of dc, her memories are going to smack right back into her. you can't exactly be a dragon rider and see a dragon and not immediately get vibe checked. she'll know dc is different, and is going to be spending her time trying to find her friends, and also attempt to teach people about dragons before they become ash.. will probably fall back into a scribe roll if she ever finds time for a job. ➳ potential plots ; someone she stops from getting fucking eaten by a dragon, other scribes, people who need help learning how to fight, just anyone confused and needing advice on creatures/procedures here in this time.

starters ; xaden riorson ( kasey )

#hw: plot call #hw: starter call #hwevent18

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slayemal-na-nerate · 6 months ago

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//Okay, so obviously, it's been more than a few weeks, but I've had a lot more complications come up that I don't feel like listing entirely right now, and my mental health continues to be a struggle. That being said, I've put out the majority of the most pressing fires, and I do think writing helps improve my mental health when I get into a groove with it, so I'm going to end my hiatus on a couple blogs in the next week or two, primarily Bruce Wayne and Garrett Hawke. Raven and my CW Flash oc, Leia Morales, might become active again as well if people show any interest in them. I'm not really feeling much muse for Aya right now, and Lavellan will have to at least wait until I finish Veilguard (even though I expect to be ignoring a good portion of canon based on spoilers I've been exposed to). My Star Wars and Riordanverse muses will remain on hiatus until I can muster up the enthusiasm to re-engage with the source materials. Whenever that eventually happens, I'll likely be focusing on Damus Tall, one of my Zabrak twins on this blog, because he's the least depressingly affected by his trauma, which is a nice break from how heavy things can get with my other muses.

In the week or two leading up to the hiatus ending for at least two of my blogs, I'll be working on replies I owe (although, I might need to pause a couple threads that don't come naturally to me and take more effort to write right now), trying to finish Veilguard, and working on the last of my especially pressing irl issues. I don't expect to get all that done, but the only official roadblock to the hiatus ending will be finishing replies. Most, if not all, of those are for mutuals on discord, so if it seems like I'm taking a while but posting little to nothing on any of my blogs, that's why. The week or two I've given myself is a generous estimate to allow me to not rush through everything and overwhelm myself. In the meantime, feel free to reach out to plot things in advance or send asks, though only the former will receive a response before the hiatus is officially over. Replies to asks and thread responses I don't already owe will start post-hiatus, again focusing on Bruce and Hawke only, unless Leia and Raven have any interest shown towards them. Fun fact: Bruce is actually meant to share a canon with Raven, which would make her 24 (same age as the mun) currently; I'll likely add a verse to explain what's gone on with her for the past decade, but I'd probably still default to her teenage self to answer any asks. Whenever I get around to reading the Nightwing comics with the old team back together, that might change, but the truth is, she's just not fun to write consistently during a time where the team isn't together, and I don't think it'd be fun for others to engage with that version of her all the time. It's the same reason I tend to default to act 2 or a relatively happy portion of act 3 for Hawke when answering asks, except at least his self-destructive behaviors can make for more interesting interactions than Raven's complete isolation from the world after their respective breaking points.

Anyway, TLDR: Batman and default purple mage Hawke from DA2 will be coming back in a week or two. Veilguard will be largely ignored and/or altered when added to verses for my Dragon Age muses, but I'm not bringing Lavellan back until I finish it. I always have a lot of muse for Raven and Leia, so they could come back too, but only if it seems like people might actually engage with them. All other muses are on the back burner. Hiatus on the aforementioned blogs will officially end after I finish any replies I owe (mostly or entirely on Discord). I expect that to happen in the next week or two. I'll reply to PMs for plotting, but asks and new starters won't be responded to until I finish what I already owe (still welcome to send them my way before then if you're okay waiting til then, though). Post-hiatus, anything left unanswered without a request to pause is just something I'm not aware it was my turn for. I'll work on a thread tracker eventually, but until then, just message me. Expect replies to be slow, at least to start, but I'll try to get back to each thread within a week. See you guys soon if you write for DC or Dragon Age!

#ooc

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lucianasbentley · 8 months ago

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OPEN STARTER (0/2) location: fuel frenzy don't reply if you're on this list (x)

"Shit, shit, shit." Luciana cursed to herself as she looked at the flat tire when she pulled into the gas station. Maybe Owen was right. She should've let him get the diapers and yet here she was anyways out to go get them herself with Gabby in the back. For a bit, the baby was asleep, but the second the tire popped, she woke up and started screaming. She was still in the back crying while Luciana looked around and she waved over to someone. "Hey. Hey, sorry. Do you know how to change a flat tire?"

#kismetharbor.start

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beevean · 10 months ago

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Rewriting Castlevania

To be more specific, Castlevania post-Season 2. The first few seasons shall serve as the launchpads from which to build upon and iron out the kinks for later stories.

I don’t have an exact vision of how rewritten versions of Season 3 and 4 (or Nocturne, but that isn’t the focus here), but I know, for starters, they could’ve used a more compact cast.

First: remove Trevor and Sypha. They may have been major protagonists in Seasons 1 and 2, but their story was over. Alucard, as well. His story was also done… for now (because he’s too iconic in the franchise as a whole not to bring back in a sequel series).

Next: they could’ve easily cut out Morana and Striga (whose names escaped my memory until I just looked them up) without substantially affecting anything in Carmilla’s whole story. Lenore can stay (maybe as the show’s equivalent to Laura), but she should not get a “redemption”. Instead, develop the idea of how weak others see her and how her devious intellect helps her overcome her perceived weakness. Write the woman a Starscream arc, even (“I am Lenore of Styria, and fuq you, Carmilla! I win!”), with mistress Carmilla as her Megatron! Give her lots of ambition!

For Isaac, I would love for his chat with that Captain to be preserved (I rewatched it recently and loved the vibe of it), but a couple other events in his journey need adjustments so that he doesn’t go through the “I had an nice talk with a human, so my mind about humanity is changing, but these guys are blocking me and I can’t reason with them, therefore I’m stupid for trying to be civil and hate humans again, now they die!” bit twice. With a little streamlining, his screentime in Season 3 could be devoted to building him up as a threat, and then set up Season 4 with his role as a co-antagonist (with Carmilla) to Hector fully set up when they reunite. No sanitizing “I’m going to live!” revelations here.

Then there’s Hector. I still think we didn’t need to see the immediate aftermath of his imprisonment. In this hypothetical rewritten story, I would suggest having a 1 or 2 year timeskip, so he’s been slaving away in Carmilla’s dungeon for quite a while, forced to build her an army with his Devil Forgemaster powers, and Lenore’s been keeping watch and giving him plenty of incentives not to betray the sisters. Maybe for his first appearance in this version of Season 3, he could have this intimidating reveal where it dramatically shows the scrawny boy from Season 2 has become a buff, scarred son of a gun, clearly having worked out a lot during his year(s)-long stay.

The story following the Castlevania 3 adaptation would not have to be a Curse of Darkness adaptation, but the pieces were in place to pass the main protagonist torch over to Hector anyway. By making Season 3 all about his eventual escape, and having Season 4 follow him on the run, eventually overcoming his oppressor (Carmilla) and former partner (Isaac), we have ourselves a cohesive story that blends everything it establishes into one, airtight package, rather than feeling like a convoluted animation anthology.

Also, maybe Saint Germain’s Infinite Corridor quest can be worked into Hector’s adventure to freedom in some kind of creative way, without Saint Germain having to sacrifice his morals or gain info from a shady 3rd (or 4th) party.

Reply: I like your ideas!

Hard agree on removing Trevor and Sypha because they are effectively done, and Morana and Striga because they add absolutely nothing of importance. Ellis said that he created the council to explain who ran the kingdom while Carmilla was in Wallachia, but Lenore could do the job herself. I’m not sure about Alucard because his story is also over, but I do see the potential of him grappling with his grief, and fearing he might become like Dracula. It’s just, the way it was done was skull-crushingly boring, and for now I have no better ideas.

(btw yes, Carmilla and Lenore could be wives at this point lmao, their personalities are strong enough that it wouldn’t come off as The Lesbians For Brownie Points. Maybe Carmilla turned Lenore so she’s her dame and superior, and this would cause frustration in Lenore who feels like Carmilla sees her more as her pet than a lover... frustration that she channels on Hector, in some sort of cycle of abuse way :) I still like the idea of her falling in love with Hector, but it’s an unhealthy, possessive love typical of a vampire, that Hector doesn’t reciprocate or grows out of.)

For Isaac, I mentioned the other day that he could use as a springboard the realization that Dracula cast him away like a broken tool, and from there, his affirmation that he’s worth more than what Dracula told him. ... yes, this is still Hector’s arc, but whatever at this point. Absolutely, S3 should avoid that stupid pattern of “oh maybe humans aren’t so bad-- nvm y’all rude, die”. Maybe he avoids people instead of barging through cities, and makes his army from the corpses he finds in abandoned towns? But he still can’t avoid everyone, hence, the scene with the captain.

Mhh. Hector’s story spanning so long would also influence Isaac’s, and it feels like too much? If Isaac had one year of time to build an army, dude would lead a small country basically. He’s already OP af, even if we nerf him by making him weak in physical combat. Same with Carmilla, she would definitely do some damage in one year.

I’m torn. Hector’s story in S3 could be tweaked a bit by making it less fetishistic and still treating Hector like a person: as in, someone with goals and principles and was not hired as General only because he’s pretty, that Lenore has to whittle down to convince him to work for him (the idea that Hector cannot be physically forced to work and his master needs to earn his trust is actually really good for a conflict). The two should butt heads and have more intriguing conversations, make the job harder for Lenore, let’s see if she keeps with the diplomacy or gets frustrated and needs to resort to the ring (which only makes sense in the scenario where Hector is deemed too dangerous to be allowed to work freely, since its only shown function is to bequeath control of the Creatures). I actually jotted some ideas down, if you’re interested :P

(oh, and no rape. obviously. she really didn’t need to do that.)

And S4 can kind of stay the same, but with the difference that Hector trapping Lenore is a form of cruel mercy, he does not crawl back to her because he too realized he does not need to cling to people to earn love, and he actually leaves the castle, ready to explore the world (with the implication that he might meet the equivalent of Rosaly, but it’s not necessary)

To clarify, what is your idea of Hector’s story in S4? Does he flee from Isaac on the chase? Will he eventually fight him and Carmilla? Will he meet Rosaly in the finale, and in this timeline they stay together without Isaac interfering? (please say yes 🥺)

But yeah. I still think the prequels could have been adapted, but if we need Carmilla as a spanner in the works tweaking the timeline, this feels much better. Trevor and Sypha alone not bogging down screentime would solve so many issues with the rushed pace.

#netflixvania thoughts #for lack of a better tag

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post-mortem-lullabies · 26 days ago

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NAME: Lizard. Some shorten it to Liz and I'm on board with that but while I'm yet to stumble upon someone else using a nickname 'Lizard', I have seen 'Liz' before.

PRONOUNS: You have not reached the friendship lever required to unlock that info :p Seriously though, this is something I and Emil have in common, we use 'she/her' personally, but couldn't care less what others use for us, especially on the internet out of all places. You don't even know my real name! (except those who did PayPal with me because PayPal is a snitch >.>)

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S): Emil. She has been since her creation more than a decade ago and I foresee she will continue her iron grip on me for years to come. I might fixate over other muses - like Paper recently - but it usually goes away after a couple of days and they need to compete against her again till another spell of fixation comes around.

RP PET PEEVES: Overuse of epithets, and the time travels to reply to something that should have passed, but those are old and tired and while it's not a pet peeve I want to highlight something odd I noticed recently that got me worried: WHY ARE PEOPLE ASKING ME IF THEY CAN SEND ME IM'S OR ASKS? Has something happened in those 2 years I wasn't RPing on tumblr? What happened to the gleeful attitude of sending people you barely interacted with random stuff at 3am? YES you can send me stuff and it breaks my little cold heart that you feel the need to ask me in the first place! What tragedy has occurred that people now feel the need to ask??? Are we going to start asking if we can follow someone next?

So anyway, have a snack 🍪☕

EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS: I joined tumblr with Emil's blog on 14th of February 2014 and you can bet the only reason I remember the exact date is because it was a Valentine's Day in a Very Valentine's Day looking year. If it had been 2015 or 2013, I wouldn't be sure what year it was. I was pretty consistent for most of that time but then took about 2 years long break and came back this last December... And probably the only reason I'll remember the year will be because it was 2024, so exactly 10 years after joining.

FLUFF, ANGST, or SMUT: Action xD I have and will write all three of those but if you really want to grasp my attention with a thread, give me action. Let's make our muses have some specific goal in mind they are working together towards. Fluff and Angst are fun to write but only if our muses are close enough for it to actually matter and affect both of them. Not much point in me writing Emil's void state if your muse is not gonna care, is there? And I have a love-hate relationship with my smut writing: no matter what I write, it feels plastic and fake to me, but I want to get better at it and I won't get better if I don't write it. So yeah, Emil does one-night stands and I'm fine with writing them but... yeah, don't expect it to be good >.>

LONG/SHORT REPLIES: I can do anything, from one liners to novellas (I have written replies that were over 1K words). I usually mirror the length the partner gave me, but if they mirror me too, we probably will end up with multi paragraph length; something like 3-6 paragraphs.

BEST WAY TO INTERACT: Burst in like Kool-Aid and throw asks and IMs at me. Off with the 'but what if I annoy them?' BS. I post a lot of memes for you all to use and abuse. I post starter calls too - like them. There's a bunch of open starters that await replies and reblogs (but don't just leave a like on those; what am I to do with a like???)

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I like mornings the best but oh, guess what, 5/7 mornings are taken by my work xD I'm lucky enough to work a remote office job so I can sneak in a small reblog here and there, but yeah, can't really do much writing then >.> So I tend to write in afternoons; after I worked, ate and watched a video, or two.

Tagged by Stolen from: @riddlesnap

Tagging: You :p

#[out of cookies]#[dash games]#riddlesnap

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formerlycookierunauprompts · 1 year ago

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AU Ficlet #2

woah, my fiftieth written for this blog... Thank you all for sticking around by the way! Without further ado, it's all under the cut.

CONTENT WARNINGS : Allusions to cannibalism, cults, religious imagery.

“ Don’t you ever feel like you’re… trapped here?” It was an odd question coming from Calla Lily Cookie, one that caused Blueberry Milkshake to immediately turn his attention to his work partner for the day. “ Hmmm…. Nope! But what do you mean by that, Calla Lily Cookie?” He asked, tilting his head as he pondered Calla Lily’s question. Trapped here? In Meringue Village? No, he could never be trapped in a place that was his home. “ O-Oh, it’s just that…” She turned her head away, back to the jelly bush she was tending to. “ Have you ever wondered what’s beyond our little village? I mean… I know we live on a continent called ‘Beast Yeast’ but surely it can’t all be monsters, right?” “ Who knows,” He chirped, going back to his own place picking apple jellies from the trees. “ But there’s probably still a lot of monsters, we’re only safe from them because of the prophet’s barrier around the village.” He replied, briefly contemplating taking a bite out of one of the apple jellies he was holding… But he decided not to, he wasn’t feeling all that hungry anyways. He looked back over to Calla Lily, she still seemed troubled by something. “ Still thinking about what’s outside, hm?” He asked, leaning on the tree branch. He only spoke again after getting Calla Lily’s nod of conformation. “ Well, you should probably go talk to Mystery Cookie then. They go outside all the time! Well, other than our leader and the prophet.” She turned away. “ I’ll… keep that in mind.” She replied as she went back to tending to the jellies. Meanwhile Blueberry Milkshake turned back to look into the apple jelly in his hand. Should he eat it after all? I mean, it’s just one apple jelly, what’s the harm that could be done? And yet he still pauses, would the leader approve of him taking a bite of this apple? Sure, it was one of many, but she knew about almost everything that went on in the village. He wouldn’t get any closer to the promised land if he took a bite out of this apple. And yet, it was so tempting to do so. But why? Why was it so tempting to attempt to fall out of line? To just… take a bite? He wanted to know, and yet he couldn’t.

_ - - _

Maybe he should have taken a bite of that apple back there, witches know that it would be better than his current situation. Here he stood, right in front of the prophet’s door. His heart was pounding from both anxiety and a mix of something else… Because who wouldn’t when you have to go face to face with someone like Marshmallow Fluff Cookie? She was, well, for starters she was a lot bigger than the other cookies, and that was pretty intimidating. And not only that but she was blessed with holy knowledge from the witches. There was also the fact that she was, in Blueberry Milkshake’s opinion, rather pretty. So, having to interact with a tall, scary yet pretty woman was rather reasonably, a heart-pounding experience. “ You may come in,” He could hear her from beyond the door, so, with only a moment of hesitation, he opened the door and stepped inside. There were few times that Blueberry Milkshake ever saw the prophet outside of her room, and that was usually during meal times, or the occasional day where she left her room to wander around near the forest. The latter were the more, well, carefree times he’d been around her, and dare he say that they got a bit close during then. Though sometimes… it feels like they’ve interacted more than they have. He looked up at her, noticing the white roots of her fluffy pink hair were showing. He’d noticed that she tended to, well, chew on her hair sometimes. And whenever she got healed whatever amount she’d chewed off would grow back white. She turned to him, brown eyes like chocolate scanning him before signaling him to come in further and shut the door behind him. “ How have you been, Blue?” She asked, twisting in her seat, a cushion on the floor, to lay on her stomach. Her smile, unlike the practiced, melancholic one she had around the other members of the village except for Mystery Cookie and himself, was rather genuine. He considered it a rather nice smile. “ I’ve been… good actually!” he chirped out the lie, or well, the half-lie. If he were to be honest then, well, everything had been rather monotonous. Rather… boring, if you asked him. But how could he starve off his boredom if Meringue Cookie’s watchful eye followed him almost everywhere? He watched the smile on her face drop into melancholy for a moment, the mood around them turning more serious. Marshmallow Fluff then held out something in her hands, revealing it to be a small, blue colored apple jelly. “ I want you to take this, and eat it when you’re ready. I know it’s not much, and that it’s your decision… But I…” She trailed off, like a book that never got finished. “ … Nevermind, just take it.” And so, he listened, he took the apple from her hand. He was almost tempted to take a bite right now, almost. But the time wasn’t right, or maybe he was just afraid? Afraid of the unknown? Who knows…

_ - - _

It was supposedly, a normal day within Meringue Village. A perfectly normal day where Blueberry Milkshake didn’t have any tasks to do for the village. Which meant that he could pretty much do whatever he wanted for the day. Most of the time, he spent these days at home or near the forest surrounding the village. It had been seven days since Marshy(his nickname for Marshmallow Fluff Cookie) had given him the blue apple jelly, seven… quite odd days. For instance, he began to… notice a lot more things. For instance, when he was working with the foraging crew and watching one of them get patched up, he swore he could see two, thin scars on one of their backs. When he asked about it… well, they apparently didn’t know those scars even existed. Even thinking that he was playing a prank on them. There was also the fact that his nightmares got… worse? Well, he was having them more frequently. These nightmares involved some strange jester that looked like him, who always, always looked at him with disappointment. And yet, somehow he could tell that the jester aimed its disappointment at itself as well. It was always just them, together in a black void. That was, however, until the apple jelly began to appear in them. The apple jelly always appeared in the jester’s hand, and the jester always offered it to him. “ Come on,” The jester would say, a grin blooming on its face “ Aren’t you tired of being trapped in this… pathetic, powerless, unknowing form?” He’d never respond directly to the jester, either flinching away or, more recently, hesitating to take the apple jelly before he woke up with it in his hands. He’d always consider eating it after waking up, but never did. In fact, he kept it hidden on his person at all times, not even telling Meringue Cookie about the apple jelly. He feared that it’d be taken away from him if he did tell her. He sat on a fallen tree trunk, staring at the apple jelly in his hand. It seemed to glow in the dim light of the forest. Should he eat it? Should he not? He didn’t know and that bugged him. Would he know if he took a bite of the apple jelly? Would he still be left in the dark? Would he- “ Blue?” “ GYAH!” He shrieked in surprise, jumping in his seat. He turned around to face Marshmallow Fluff Cookie, who stood behind him with a mildly concerned expression. “ Witches sake- You scared me halfway to death!” He briefly scolded her, listening to her amused giggle put him at ease though. Silently, he invited her to sit, which she did. “ So… You still haven’t eaten it yet?” She asked, a mixture of curiosity and something else that Blueberry Milkshake couldn’t recognize on her face. The look in her eyes was expectant, as if she’d predicted that he’d eventually give in and eat the apple jelly no matter how long he resisted. And she was right, had she not interrupted him then he would have taken a bite. “ I mean…” He attempted to come up with an excuse, even though what he was about to say wasn’t really one. “ It’s a gift from you, right? I don’t want to just eat it and be done with it…” He said, staring down at the blue apple jelly in his hands. “ I know that you told me to eat it… and I think that I might be ready to… yet.” He trailed off, looking to her for support. A gentle smile graced her face. “ I think you should eat it,” she encouraged him as she gently pushed up his hands to raise the apple jelly. He stared at it for a moment, considering her suggestion. It wouldn’t hurt, right? So ever so slowly, he takes a bite. And afterwards? Everything hurts.

He yelps with pain, dropping the rest of the apple jelly and clutching his head. He could feel the knowledge that the fruit contained worming its way inside. There were names, faces, events that had all been taken from his head to create the shell that was himself, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie. Who was originally just an identity played and changed for the sole purpose of worming his way into high societies just to see them crumble with a few lies told here and a few truths told there. He could feel traces of his former magic rushing back into him, the essence of his soul jam. It burned under his dough and yet it felt all too right for it to be there. The burning sensation was soon replaced by a more cold, yet not chilling sensation. Like escaping from the heat by taking shelter in the shade. He drops to the ground, onto his knees. “ Blue! Are you alright?” He can hear Marshmallow Fluff call out, with her racing to his side. He can see the apple, he’s so close to knowledge, to understanding. He reaches for it yet Marshmallow Fluff takes it from his reach. “ Hey, hey, take it slow, understand what you know right now before jumping in further.” It was good advice, advice he couldn’t help but listen to. So he took a moment to breathe, to try and process the information that was flooding into his mind. His name, his real name, was Shadow Milk Cookie. One of the former heroes of Cookie kind that fell from grace due to the corruption that came with his forbidden use of dark magic and his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Formerly, he embodied knowledge, but now he embodies deceit. He was a member of the formerly named five heroes, now named the five beasts. And, he was currently incredibly small compared to his true height. And another thing, he was currently sealed into this form. This… tiny, weak and pathetic form. God he can understand why the mental him looked at him with such disappointment, he was just an empty shell that had none of the greatness he did. He could feel a reassuring pat on the back, oh right, Marshmallow Fluff Cookie was still here. He looked up to her, remembering their real first meeting. He’d found her near the border of the village, and she was rather… interesting to him. Mainly due to the fact that there was some kind of strange power nestled within her. Over time, they’d surprisingly gotten closer. Close enough for Shadow Milk to sometimes forget his original goal of finding out what that power in her was. Though, maybe he should have listened to her when she said to never come to her village, no matter what. Maybe then he would have never gotten his magic and soul jam stripped from him in the first place… but how did that happen?

She let him finish the apple now, and the increase of knowledge didn’t hurt like it did the first time. His mind filled in the blanks in his memory once he finished chewing. Oh, oh. That’s why his instincts told him to be afraid of Meringue Cookie, not only was she, to quote Marshmallow Fluff herself, batshit insane, but she was also the one who sealed him in the first place! There was also the fact that she was basically a power and adoration hungry beast placed in the dough of a cookie. He’d probably respect that if it weren’t for the fact that she went after him and was just a monster in general. He may call himself a beast but that doesn’t compare to the shit that Meringue Cookie does to people. For example, him! She literally almost wiped out his entire identity and took his power for herself! And that’s not even mentioning the fact that she steals the wings of Fairy Cookies whenever they find themselves unlucky enough to be near the village. Though he didn’t know the details, he knew that it had to be painful. “ You’re… okay, right?” Marshmallow Fluff asked, ah, he remembered that he used to be scared of her for some reason as well. But she was pretty much harmless… towards him. She wouldn’t harm him if she had the choice to. “ … Physically? Yes.” He began, getting back on his feet. “ Mentally? Well, I’m a bit peeved you didn’t do this sooner. But I suppose that it’s better than before.” “ That's good then.” She smiled. “ And I’m sorry, but Meringue Cookie doesn’t leave her office unattended all that much. I only had enough time to get your memories from your soul jam.” She explained, her smile turning more apologetic. “ Ah well, win some, you lose some.” He shrugged, though he was already formulating a plan to get back at their twisted cult leader. All he needed was his soul jam and then he could get straight to his revenge! He’d work out the details later, mainly because he’s still adjusting.

He could see Marshmallow Fluff tense up, crap, Meringue Cookie must be looking for her. Of course, you could imagine his surprise when she pulled him close, close enough to hug him maybe? Who knew, but why did she do that? He soon heard footsteps on the grass and- Oh, that’s how she wanted to play this. Very clever, he supposed. Well, he wouldn’t be one of the world’s greatest actors if he didn’t play into his role. And all it took was a few thoughts to make his face turn a bright blue, nothing too indecent, mind you. It wasn’t long until you caught onto what he was doing, making sure to catch him when his footing went light. “ Ah, dearest prophet…” He could hear Meringue Cookie say, that sickly sweet smile upon her face as she laced her words with honey. “ While I do trust that you are checking up on the barrier, don’t you think that it’s been a bit too long- Hm?” Ah, looks like she noticed him. He could sense the slightest irritation leak into Meringue Cookie’s voice, most people wouldn’t even notice that her tone had changed. “ Ah, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie… Whatever are you doing out here? I suppose that it is one of your free days, yet to spend one near the barrier is quite foolish when it’s on one of its scheduled check up days… And may I ask what you’re doing with our prophet?” She asked, tilting her head a bit to the side. “ Oh!- Um… Ah, how do I explain this…?” He fumbled, though it was merely all acting on his part. But of course, Marshmallow Fluff’s acting helped him sell the bit… and by acting, I mean being bluntly ‘honest’.

“ We were hanging out together while I checked on the barrier, that’s all.” She stated, staring down almost blankly at Meringue Cookie. He had to give it to her, she knew how to keep a cool head. He looked at Meringue Cookie, it was clear that she had had a few doubts about what Marshmallow Fluff had said… But it appeared that she couldn’t call them out. She straightened her posture. “ Very well then.” She simply said, before casting a much less warm glare to Shadow Milk Cookie. “ Oh, but if you’re doing anything to taint our prophet… I will have you kicked out of the village, Blueberry Milkshake Cookie.” She said sternly, one might think that she actually cared for Marshmallow Fluff had they not known what to look for… or what she was really like. Her tone returned to its warm, chipper manner that she had before. “ Be sure to be back by sundown in time for meal time! I’m sure that neither of you would want to miss out.” She hummed before turning on her heel and walking off. Marshmallow Fluff let out a muted sigh of relief, meanwhile Shadow Milk looked up at her. “ You know, you really wouldn’t assume that she’s… well, who she really is under all that. I’ve got to hand that to her at least.” He mused, which earned him a pout from Marshmallow Fluff. “ What? A good actor has to respect another good actor.” “ I… guess you’re right.” She hummed, turning away. There’s a beat of silence before Shadow Milk thinks of a question that he never got answers to. “ Hey, Marshy?” He asked, calling her attention to him with a hum. “ I never got to ask this before, but what exactly is the promised land? I can’t imagine that it’s actually something good since you guys supposedly worship the witches.”

The witches, quite the bitter memory if you asked him. Sure, they, as in the five beasts, had been created by one that was more… morally sound. But there was a small group that actually ate the living cookies that were baked, and not the ones baked for consumption. He hoped that the witches that the cult worshiped were on the less cannibalism-acquainted side… But judging by Marshmallow Fluff Cookie’s rather nervous expression, it was likely that that’s the case. But that doesn’t exactly explain why people are selected for the promised land one by one, if they were getting served up to the witches then wouldn’t it be in batches? There is, however, a more disturbing thought that comes to mind. And yet, he decides not to chase it just yet. The time for it will come eventually… But he hopes that the traces of that very theory are incorrect. If they were, it would explain a lot about Marshmallow Fluff Cookie… But, would he be able to look at her the same way if it was true? He's seen her lips stained with what he believed to be strawberry jam before though... Yet he doesn't want to believe the possibility. Even though many factors pointed to it being possible. The undeniable, inescapable guilt that he could sense inside her, the way everyone chosen to go to the promised land goes through her first. He doesn't want to believe it, and yet hasn't he done things just as bad? And that's if she's doing it... willingly.

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