#(and like.. I guess I'm still terrified of setting expectations for things I can later not fulfill)

[loumauve]

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[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Accidental Knight and the Time Travel Bodyswap

okay I'm on moble. So apologies in advance.

I recently found a fic on Ao3 about brozone swapping bodies with their younger-selves (specifically during the split up fight) with what I'm guessing is their post TBT selves. I link it when I have the time.

Here's my taken on this awesome concept. In the Field of Forgetmenots AU! Highly recommend looking at the posts for this au before reading on ward. You have been warned.

The plot starts with Floyd's POV. He's in the background of his brothers fighting after Branch's first show. Part of him wants to intervene but at this point he knows it will do nothing. He sees little Bitty standing off the side looking terrified, as he walks over to comfort the young trolling, his vision twists and blacks out. He comes too with a dirt ceiling overhead, with a numb body. He thinks he's been drugged by a crazed fan then kidnapped, and tries to get off the bed he's on only to fall to the floor when his limbs begin to burn with pain. He's found by a green trolling with blue hair and eyes, and he struggles on floor finally seeing the paleness of his limbs and paralyses he feels. A scarred dulled troll comes in. It takes a moment of his fussing for Floyd to realize that he's staring at his grown up baby brother. His grown up baby brother who lifts him with ease and sets him on the bed while checking over his body.

Branch was worried when Keith came running in saying that Floyd fell. The Knight had taken in his older brother (plus Clay) to help Floyd recover from the damage the diamond bottle did to him. Its been a few months and sadly Floyd is still weak and adjusting to the after effects. He can't walk, unable to keep himself warm, and has flare ups when his body re-crystalizes, that for all they know could be fatal. Not to mention, all the psychological damage the kidnapping did, and Floyd insisting that he's fine when he's really not. Needless to say, when Keith comes to tell Branch that Floyd is on the floor panicking, he reacts with urgency. The knight drops what he's doing (making breakfast), and rushes to tend to his brother he runs through all the checks, Flare up? Nope. Nightmare? Doesn't seem like it. He doesn't feel any injuries. However, Branch is extremely concerned when Floyd starts talking like he's confused about the date and how big Branch got. He makes a plan to take Floyd to the hospital to get checked out.

Let's switch gears over to Clay. He's first in heated fight with John and Spruce when his world becomes fuzzy and suddenly he's waking up with his face on top of a work desk. He jerks up, finding himself in an office. A boring office. A troll walks in, calls him "Mr. Clay" says their his assistant and ask if he's okay before telling him about Branch taking Floyd to to hospital so he might need to pick up Keith from school that day, then they leave. Clay is left with many many questions, but it's okay on top of sad books he's read many mystery novels he's fully prepared to handle this. If this was his office it had to have a calendar. He is not pleased to find the date is over twenty years passed what it was a few minutes ago. Then everything that the assistant mentioned settled. Floyd was in the hospital?! Branch had to take him? Branch could take him? And who the heck was Keith?! Why was Clay picking him up from school?! During this spiral, Who of all trolls walks in but Princess Viva (or Captain Viva as he would later learn she was called). Clay asks why she's here, and he learns that Viva heard about Floyd and thought to check in on her Boyfriend. That was not the answer Clay was expecting.

Flipping back to Floyd. Hospitals already freak him out, and now he apparently had a chronic condition, that doctors still weren't sure how it works. Even worse he can see how worried Branch is over this. As such he just doesn't mention the Time travel/amnesia thing going on. Last thing he needs is to stress it baby brother out, especially since it's obvious that Branch had been taking care of Floyd since the diagnoses that he can't remember. On top of taking care of a kid no doubt. Even if Floyd isn't sure how Keith is related to them (He doesn't call Branch dad or Floyd uncle, and doing the math it would mean that Branch would have to have had Keith while he was a teenager), it's clear that Branch is raising that kid. Branch's girlfriend (doesn't that just bring many colorful images to mind) meets them at the hospital. She takes over, calming Branch down easily, and talking to the doctors, who much too everyone's relief nothing physical has changed since Floyd's last appointment. Branch has to leave for work after that, but Poppy takes Floyd back to the hideout he suddenly lives in.

Clay is left reeling, through out the day he's trying to learn all about this modern day. He'd completely forgotten about needing to collect a trolling from the school until his assistant mentions it. He runs out of the admin building looking for the school. It took a nearly twenty minutes to figure out where the school was, and by the time he arrived the teachers were getting ready to look for either him or Branch. He apologize profusely, but thankfully the head teacher assumes his questionable behavior was due to Floyd being hospitalized. Then Clay is saddled with Keith, a little Green and blue trolling that the teacher calls his brother. Clay doesn't really know where Keith came from (he thought his parents were dead), but doesn't question it out loud. He's been a big brother before he can totally take this kid home...if he knew where his new home was. No one was living with grandma now, clearly. Thankfully, Keith knows the way. Clay tries to make conversation, but Keith only really either stares blankly or looked slightly confused. Geez, didn't that make Clay feel good about his relationship with this new youngest brother. Did he ever spend time with this kid?

They arrive at the bunker, finding Poppy and Floyd inside. Keith lights up as Poppy running over and beginning to tell her about his day. Clay however, doesn't pay much attention to this red-headed version of Viva, rather he hones in on his younger brother who's in a wheelchair and looks on the brink of death. Clay demands to know what happened, while Floyd tries to deflect saying weird dream. Clay knows he's lying right away. Thankfully Poppy has pulled Keith into the kitchen to start on dinner and homework. Clay comes clean about not remembering any of the passed 20 years, Floyd breaths a sigh of relief know that it isn't his sickness that caused the memory loss.

Clay: Do you know the kind of day I had? I'm a CPA! twenty years down the line and I'm a CPA, John would hate that! It's a boring job. But I love it. and I'm dating the crown princess apparently.

Floyd: You thought your day was weird? I can't walk Clay. I've been questioning my own sanity since i woke up. Because I have a TBI and could lose my mind any second.

Clay: TBI? How'd you get a TBI?

Floyd: I don't remember. Poppy and Branch have been tip-toeing around me having some sort of accident. But they won't tell me what. and I'm scared to ask because it would make me look crazy!

Branch would come home at that point. They both are surprised by the Forest Guardian Armor, and Clay even more freaked out seeing the scars, muted colors, and blinded eye that Branch was sporting now. Keith is over joyed and greets Branch warmly. It's obvious these two are close in ways that this grown up Branch isn't with his older brothers. Dinner is served but it doesn't comfort the elder two brothers.

Why don't we check in on Vacay Island for a second. Spruce one moment was fighting with john and the next wakes up one morning next to a Giant yellow woman, who claims to be his wife. Brandy immediately figures out her husband doesn't remember the last twenty years. She explains everything to him using family photos to prove everything. Spruce is lost in confusion, as he listens he had no choice but to believe her, he certainly wasn't in his teenaged body anymore. It hurts to learn that the last night he remembered was the night his family broke apart, and only after 20 years was his brothers comfortable enough to reconnect. Then Brandy mentions that Floyd was kidnapped....suddenly Spruce, or Bruce as Brandy tells him he goes by, needs to see his little brothers. Make sure that their all okay. Brandy agrees and he wonders how on earth his heartthrobness managed to charm his goddess among mortals.

And finally let's get to the eldest. John was in his grandmother's pod, terrified and angry, then he was waking up in a transportation critter in the woods. In the mirror his older self stares back, and he's scared all over again. Time has passed but he doesn't know why or how. Thankfully he finds the journals his older self kept. He spends the day learning what had happened over the passed 20 years. He breakdown when he reads the entry talking about the empty destroyed tree. Only to relax when he reads about the reunion and freeing Floyd.

Rhonda has been watching all of this and sneses something wrong with her owner, against his will she drives strait to troll village.

Once both him and Bruce arrive at the same time and end up explaining that both have the same memory loss. Shockley learning that both Clay and Floyd are the same. Grown up Branch is weird and it hurts to learn where the main scar came from. Floyd is horrifying to his older brothers, they just want to bundle him up and never let anyone touch him. they all talk in Floyd's room about what they need to to do to get their memories back...none of them notice Keith is listening from behind the cracked door.

Branch confronts them at dinner that night. It isn't pretty. Branch is not going to put up with the "We're trying to protect you" routine. And to their shock, takes charge of the room, saying that he and them already had that fight about that topic, and how he doesn't need them anymore. He had Poppy and Keith, and the only reason that Floyd is staying here because branch knows he can't take care of himself. He'll help them, but he won't tolerate arguing. they need to settle their teenaged issues with each other. Because if Keith has to deal with their fights like Branch had to endure, he'd kick them all out.

I'm not sure about how the ending would work yet, but all the brothers would be brought back to the moment they left. And vowed to stay together as a family. In one time line, Branch would have the brothers he deserved.

[babbygirlblues]

Hi, how are you ? I have this one :

fem reader x nat

nat thinks the avengers doesn't think of her as her family, so she stays a bit away.

and (if you saw black widow the scene where they talk about period and ovaries) reader and nat talk about it with comfort

the avengers overhear and big group hug later with team bonding (family bonding)

ooooooooo i love this request! this is hard one <3 (I'm great thx btw, I hope you're going great too!)

thanks for being patient. it took my a while to get this one down, i've been working on a couple series that I'm really excited about posting soon xx

Family Means Forever

So, my thinking 4 this one is:

The convo with Bruce didn't happen (Age of Ultron)

But this is set at Clint's house, like her convo with Bruce

And instead she talks to you.

Sterility does not make someone a monster, or less of a woman, or less of a person, or less worthy of anything.

1.7K

“Do you want children?”

You’re shocked by the question. Your hand lingers over the door handle and you turn to look at Natasha sitting on the bed.

She looks terrified. Seeking comfort under a grey cardigan and you can’t remember the last time she felt like she had to hide from you.  

You’re racking your brain for what could be wrong.

It’s your second day at the Barton farmhouse and you’ve spent most of it with Laura and the kids. You’ve seen Natasha here unlike anything before. ‘Auntie Nat’ plays with Clint’s kids like they’re her own but today she’d wandered off with Clint. 

You make your way over to her and sit on the bed beside her. It dips slightly and pulls her closer to you. 

“Umm,” You try to formulate an honest answer, “I guess, I always thought it would depend on my life, my situation. If I felt like my children would be safe and happy then yeah I’d want them, but I didn’t expect that. I thought that my life might be too crazy for children.”

“Do you want children?” You ask her curiously.

She shrugs, miserably. You’ve never seen her look so dead behind her eyes.

“I’m not family material.” She mumbles.

“What?” You reply, trying to keep your words slow and comforting. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m a bit lost here.” 

“I can’t have children.” She says firmly.

“Ok, that’s ok. Not everybody wants children.” 

“No, that’s not it.” She’s getting worked up, you can see the tears start to swirl in her eyes and they swell with an angry red.

“Ok.”  You go to rub her back soothingly but she shies away from your touch.

You swallow the rejection as best you can, “What is it, then?” You whisper patiently. 

“I can’t have children. It was the last step, just another thing the Room took from me.”

She cups a hand over her lower stomach shamefully and your heart shatters. She has more to say, you can tell it’s all threatening to bubble out, but as usual she holds it all back. 

“They did that to you?” You press softly. You remember clearly how long it took for Natasha to show you that scar. For months she hid her stomach from you, under the covers or in the darkness. Even after she’d shown you her heart, her family, her mind, there was still that insecurity you were desperate to kiss away when she gave you the chance.

She nods, “The graduation ceremony.” 

She sniffles and you reach out for the tissue box on top of the bedside table. 

You fold the tissue and gently pat her eyes dry, wiping the away the tear tracks down her cheek and chin. 

“Hey, look at me.” You hold her chin and turn softly to face you.

“That is not a problem for me.” You hold her gaze and try to convey how serious you are. 

“I mean, obviously I want to murder everyone who hurt you.” You mumble and a giggle hiccups through a wet sob in her throat. 

“But I love you, exactly as you are.”

You kneel down on the floor and shuffle yourself between her legs. Your hands slither up her thighs where they spread out on the mattress and then up around to her hips. 

You reach around to her robe where she clutches it tightly across her midsection. You place your hands on her folded arms and she slowly lets them drop them into her lap. You carefully pull the edges of the cardigan open and then reach down for the bottom of her shirt. 

You look up at her, wary of a negative reaction before pulling the shirt up, exposing her lower stomach up to her belly button. 

As you lean in, your chest presses into the tops of her legs and you press a kiss to the soft skin of her stomach. She flops backwards on the bed and you run your lips along the faint scar line, almost invisible just above the waistband of the pants. Your lips are warm against her skin and you’re careful to stay soft while you rub soothing circles into her skin, tracing up and down the bulge of her hip bones.

You pull yourself up and crawl along the bed until you’re hovering over her head. Silent tears are falling from the corners of her eyes, dripping down her temple and into her hair.

“Oh, my love.” You whisper, wiping her eyes with the pad of your thumbs on either side of her head. 

She looks at you pleadingly. Somehow you’re able to read the words she can’t force from her lips. 

“You want children, baby?”

She sobs and her head rocks into a nodding motion. 

“You’d make the best mother to ever exist on this Earth.” You tell her, your voice tender and confident.

“Yeah?” She sniffles behind her hand and there’s a shy smile that starts to reveal her pearly whites. 

You peck a quick kiss to the deep dimple in her cheek. 

“Without a doubt.”

~~~

“Tash, you should go.” You insist. 

You’re pulling on your jacket at the door of her room and she’s lingering behind you. You’re going out tonight, which means she has to walk herself down stairs and go to the bowling alley with the team without you. 

“Urhhhh,” She groans. “It’s not fun if you’re not going.”

“Hm, I know Tony’s charm runs dry pretty quickly but they are your team, baby.”

“Your family too.” You emphasise to her.

She mumbles something to herself quietly. 

You kiss her on the cheek and reach up to pull off the hood of her jumper off her head. Her ruffled hair flies up at the friction of the fabric and you try not to smile too big at how cute she is.

You pocket your phone and keys from a tray at the door, “I won’t be long, either way.” 

She tugs on your sleeves in a futile attempt to stop you leaving, and you appease her with another kiss to her cheek, then lips. 

“Have a good night, beautiful.” You tell her.

At 5:30 Natasha drags herself downstairs in her old hoodie and jeans. She’ll go with them, but she’s not getting dressed up for it. 

It’s been an exhausting couple of months. Little does she know, the team has found out that the two of you are trying for a baby and they understand there’s something difficult there for Natasha, although they don’t know exactly what it is.

The baby is not something you tried to hide, you’ve spoken to a couple of them and Natasha just wants to tell people on her own time. Secretly, she doesn’t want to get her hopes up just yet and avoids talking about it to anyone but you. 

The group spread themselves across 2 bowling lanes, ordering greasy burgers and fries from the menu. Natasha is just going through the motions, keeping an impressive streak of strikes and she has to admit that she’s having fun despite the smell and the clown shoes and the noise. 

Tony pulls her aside when the burgers arrive and she’s mid-bite when he pulls out a small envelope with her name on it, yours next to it in a beautiful cursive font. 

“Tony?”

“I know nothing’s official yet.” He says, “but I want you to know that I’m happy for you.”

He starts blinking furiously and Natasha almost chokes on a mouthful of food when she realises he’s holding back tears.

She wipes her fingers on her pants and takes the card from him, curiously.

“And, anything you need, you’ll have it.” He says determinately.

She slides the card out from the envelope and opens it up. 

Inside is a picture of a cute little house on a quiet block out of the city. A big tree shades the house around green grass and a little pool glistens on the side. 

Her hand starts to shake. 

“A kid deserves a house to grow up in and a yard to play around.” He says passionately.

Her heart leaps. It’s her worst fear, crying in public and in front of Tony. 

“Tony,” She mumbles, “I don’t know what to say.”

She sniffles and Tony echos it with his own. 

“It’s perfect.” She whispers. 

She runs a finger over the picture of the house. She can imagine you at the front door, a kid running on the grass, summer in the pool and hanging Christmas decorations on the roof. 

She keeps staring down at the little house and Tony smiles at the emotion in her eyes. He’s made the right choice.

“Come on,” He says, patting her on the back. “The others are waiting for the next game.”

~

She realises as the night goes on, that all of them know. 

Steve murmurs a quiet “Congratulations,” and he smiles at her proudly handing her a bowling bowl when she steps up to take her turn. 

Clint holds his hands up innocently when Natasha sends him a look like, did you tell him?

“So, who’s gonna get the title of godfather?” Bucky asks Natasha playfully from across the lane, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Need I remind you of the time I saved your life.” He says.

“I’ve saved Y/N’s life.” Tony claims from the seats, putting emphasis on your name, and yeah, that’s a stronger argument.

“What about names?” Sam says, “Might I recommend Sam Jr? Wilson? I’d settle for William even.”

Nat laughs, she hasn’t let herself think about names, too scared she’d be naming a child that won’t ever be born. 

She hopes they’ll have your hair, your eyes, she doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, and she’ll love them no matter what they want to do. 

She doesn't know it yet, but she’ll teach them to fight, to dance if they want, to read and write, she’ll sing Russian lullabies and hold them when it’s scary at night. 

This night exactly one year later, she fawns over tiny feet and wispy red hair. The precious eyes of her daughter gaze at her in admiration and she calls for her mother in the night.

This is something they can’t take anything away from her.

~~~

Oops, sorry! I realise that I didn’t really go into the surgery or period or anything like that. I want to write it in a second part - not a continuation of this one but a one-shot on the same theme. The way this one came out, that conversation just didn’t fit there. I hope the child-topic is enjoyable anyway. Thank you so much for this request. Bya! xx

[dotster001]

Paradise Lost

Summary:this is the sequel to Anzu. She can't hide you forever, especially when he already knows you're here. Based on the Enstars self aware au by @yandere-daze

Cw yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation

A/N: I knew I was gonna write this, but I didn't expect to do it so soon 😂 yay me I guess. Enjoy my brainrot.

Part Three Four Five

Anzu had explained things more fully to you in her apartment. Apparently, time worked differently here and you had been gone for weeks. Everyone else, had been relieved and eventually stopped coming to work, but Anzu had stayed in hopes she could feel your presence one last time.

"And I did! It's a miracle I never dared hope for, to have you so close to me!"

She had told you that for your safety you should stay in her apartment until you could find your way back. She had also told you that to keep up appearances, she would have to keep going back to the building you had found her in, or else everyone would know.

What both of you hadn't realized was how many mistakes Anzu had already made in the short time you two had been there. Mistake one was leaving in the first place. Mistake two was forgetting that Mayoi found comfort in dark quiet places. Mistake three was that some rather wealthy entities had constant access over the cameras.

Mistake three was the most damning. Your date was sealed the moment you had set foot in the building. Anzu had simply delayed the inevitable. Eichi had found you.

You were terrified to leave the apartment. Anzu had laid it on quite thick, and you'd grown just as dependent on her as she was of you. She loved it. She felt needed again, and it was great, even if things were different now. She felt bad that she had to lie about all the idols, but they all loved you too much. And they would take you away, she just knew it. So it was better this way.

She came back to her apartment one day, however, and instead of finding you, she found Eichi sitting in your seat. She felt herself freeze up.

"Good evening, Anzu." He said calmly. 

"Hi," she could barely speak above a whisper.

"I saw something very interesting on the cameras the other day."

She couldn't bring herself to speak. 

"Our beloved Y/N, who has been missing for weeks, is in our world. Isn't it wonderful!" He gave her a meaningful look. "Naturally I found them, and have relocated them to a safe location. You see, when I found them they were so frightened, they were shaking like a fawn. I can only imagine what they've been through."

He stood up from his seat, and leaned down so that his lips were pressed directly in her ear.

"You were out of line, producer, and now you must pay the penalty for it." He stood up straight again. "I think it's best for Y/N if you two never see each other again."

He left her apartment without another word. Anzu collapsed in on herself and cried.

                                     ….

Eichi approached you in your room. You were cowering in the corner, sobbing.

"Please don't hurt me, I didn't know…"

He pressed a soft finger to your lips.

"I could never hate you. Anzu was manipulating you, but I'm here to save you."

You started shaking your head furiously. "No, she said that…"

He gently pulled you into his arms, hushing you until you stopped crying. You were still shaking though. That would be something the doctor's could help you with, later. 

"It's alright. I know it's hard for you to see it right now, but this is for the best."

But as Eichi held you in his arms, he realized something. It didn't matter if you never realized it was for the best. He could never live another day without your presence. 

It was too late for you.

[puffpasstea]

Could you do a blurb where Matilda and Harry get in an argument? Angst + make-up fluff/smut?? I LOVE your writings so much!

Of course babes. Thank you SO SO MUCH for reading and for your very kind feedback 🥹

I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS!!!! So, since the next few chapters of the Matilda sequel are gonna be heavy on angst and smut, I tried to do something a bit different with them having an argument. Just so you guys don’t get sick of it haha. But also I feel like those two can never run out of stuff to argue over. Anyways, I'm not sure this ended up being what I wanted but still I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK EVEN IF YOU HATE IT

Warnings: angst, and angst i guess? idkkkk. 

——

Just tell him how you feel. Keep things focused on you. Don’t put any pressure or expectation on him. You can’t control the outcome but you can always be honest. My therapist’s words of encouragement ran through my head as I looked through my bag for the spare keys to Harry’s place. I knew he wasn’t home. In fact, I was counting on it. He’d given me this key “for emergencies,” and, well, “I’m in love with you and think I’m dumping my boyfriend for you” felt kind of like an emergency to me. Emotionally, at least. So, I got to his place, take out in hand, hoping to give myself a pep talk and make myself comfortable before he got here. 

Being at his place, even in his absence, felt like a safety net. Everything around here was so Harry. From the vinyl records on the entryway table, to the floral arrangements in every corner, to the teabags in the jar on the kitchen counter. Surrounded by his favorite things; his coat hanging by the door; the bookmarked novel he’d clearly been reading earlier in the day; it immediately made me feel a lot more grounded. I’d clearly made the right choice making this the setting of our upcoming conversation. I decided to set some plates out for dinner, and, while in the kitchen, pour myself a glass of wine. 

 A couple glasses in, and a Netflix episode later, Harry was still out. I contemplated texting him to ask when he’s coming home, but, that, in itself felt like too much pressure. 

A bit before midnight, I heard the front door unlock, Harry’s voice mumbling something I could quit hear. 

“Look, the media is always gonna find something to say. Yes, but- no, I am listening.” He seemed to be on the phone. Evidently having a difficult conversation. My courage already wavering, I took a sip out of my wine glass for some comfort. 

“I realize that.” Harry was now walking in a circle in his entryway. “You said it yourself ‘it’s a judgement call. Well, I’m exercising my judgement and choosing not to make any public statement. Yeah…I’m aware. Yes, it’s a risk, but-yup. Look, Jeff. I’ve had the worst fuckin day. Can we talk about this tomorrow, please? Just wanna go to bed right now. Ok. You too.”

The worst fuckin day? That’s a sign that I shouldn’t say anything. Right? You can do it. You can do it. You can do-

“Jeez- Holy fuck! Matilda!!! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Harry jumped as he walked in and saw me on his couch. His frame barely illuminated by the TV light in the dark room. “What are you doing here?” Immediately regretting my decision, I set my wine glass down and began to pack my things. Harry didn’t seem to notice though.

“You know what? I don’t even care right now, I’m just so glad you’re here…” he plopped onto the couch near me, and, without hesitation, wrapped both of his arms around me, squeezing me tightly and pulling me closer to his side. 

“Y-you are?”

“Course, baby. I’ve had the longest, most awful day. No one else I’d  rather come home to.”

“Oh?”

The words come home to made alarms go off in my brain. Suddenly, rather than feeling the comfort of being in this space, with Harry’s arms around me, telling me what anyone with half a heartbeat would long to hear their lover say, I felt suffocated and terrified. 

Harry took a deep breath relaxing his back into the couch and blinking repeatedly. Suddenly, he noticed the take out containers full of Chinese food and the plates I’d prepared for us. 

“Oh. You brought food.”

“Yeah, you want some?” I got off the couch as quickly as possible, busying myself with arranging some plates for the two of us, glad for any excuse to create some distance between me and him. 

“Guess I could eat. Not all that hungry though. Just wanna talk if that’s alright?”

“S-sure. About what?”

“I just mean about my day. Could use your opinion on this actually. So, the director, who I thought was my friend, has completely flipped these past few days. The way she’s been dictating the scenes, I mean- even when we’d had countless conversations about how I would like these moments to be portrayed in the film. At the same time, though, I don’t feel like I get a say in this. I’m not an actor, you know?”

“What you mean you’re not an actor? That’s absurd, Harry.” I passed him his plate 

“Thanks, hun.” He picked up a couple of chopsticks and started digging into his food right away. So much for not all that hungry. 

“I just mean….I’m not that experienced. It’s not like my instincts are based on any real evidence for what might or might not work for the film. I’m basically a baby by industry standards. It just feels so wrong to ignore my instincts. Feel like I’m just going through the motions, you know?“

I’d lost track of what Harry was saying relatively quickly, getting lost in how he was feeling. I could see by the look in his eyes, his incessant foot-tapping, his slumped shoulders that he was quite torn about this. In other words, he was being genuine and vulnerable right now. Opening himself up to me and sharing his doubts. Is this what being in a real relationship with Harry would be like? Coming home to the same apartment every night; talking about our days over a shared meal; discussing our thoughts and feelings? Every day? Being there for each other all the time? Is this what I was signing up for by telling him how I feel about him?

“Anyway, I know that I don’t wanna let people down. With an album, you know, it’s just me. It’s my name on the cover and if it doesn’t do that well, it’s my fault. But, this kind of thing…acting, it’s a team effort and there are so many people depending on me to do my part and…ugh and this other thing Jeff just called me about. I just can’t think straight right now..” Harry was still unfolding his quandary out loud, the earnestness in his voice, his genuine desire to not only bring the best version of himself to this project, but to make sure he was accountable to his cast mates was very touching, yet not at all surprising. That’s the kind of person he is. It’s part of what makes him so special. Unfortunately, though, it’s also why we can’t be together. He deserves more. Better. Someone who can be as open and giving as he is. Someone dependable and strong. Someone…not me. 

“Umm, I- uh. It’s getting late, Harry.” I set my plate down and looked sprung the room for where I’d tossed my bag and coat.

“W-what? But we’re in the middle of dinner!”

“Yeah, I- umm- sorry. I didn’t realize what time it is and I need to be up early, so.”

“Please don’t leave.” He looked up at me. Even in the dim light of the room, I could tell that he really needed someone. That someone wasn’t me though. 

“I’m sayin’ pleas here. I’m not usually the one who does the begging in this dynamic.” He smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood. My inability to respond in kind was surely hurtful. I needed to get out of here as soon as humanly possible wirh as little damage to our relationship as I could pull off. All of this required a certain level of delicacy that I’m sure wasn’t native to me. 

Harry grew more desperate the longer it took me to decide to stay. I felt cruel for not agreeing right away. But I was doing it to spare his feelings. 

“Fine, whatever, let’s fuck.” He set his own plate down right next to mine and picked up a napkin to wipe at his mouth. 

“E-excuse me?”

“You’re gonna have to get on top though. I’m wiped.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think I don’t know why you’re really here? Or why you’re leavin so suddenly?”

My stared at him incredulously with a frown on my face, shaking my head.

“You came here for sex and when I didn’t jump your bones right away you started packing up and walking out. I’m saying forget the talking. We can fuck, if you’ll do most of the work.”

“That’s gross. You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, now I’m the one who’s gross, am I? You’re the one who’s here for an orgasm and you won’t even get it unless I do it for you. Do me a favor, next time, skip the dinner. Makes me think you’re actually interested in spending time with me. Mixed messages.”

“Fuck you, Harry. Have a nice night.”

As I rushed out the door, I heard Harry curse something under his breath. 

***

I didn’t see Harry for a couple of days after that night. And I couldn’t wait to go to my therapist at the end of the week and let her know what a moron she is for suggesting that I finally talk to him. How successful that whole thing was. I felt my blood practically boil at the memory of how crude he was. How unbelievable it still seemed to me, though I’d witnessed it with my own eyes, that he went so quickly from being self-aware and trying to open himself up to me to being remarkably insensitive at the drop of a hat. Though he undoubtedly hurt my feelings and the fact that I never got to tell him how I feel will always haunt me, in a way, I was glad the night went the way that it did. Because how could I trust someone who could change so quickly? And who would use our very dynamic against me in an argument? 

At the end of the third night, as I lay in bed, tossing and turning and thinking about all the clever comebacks I could’ve used to shut his smugness down, I heard a loud knock at my door. Flicking my bedside lamp on, I checked the time on my phone. It was 2 a.m. who on earth would come knocking at my door at this ungodly hour. 

I ran to the door, looking through the peephole and hurrying to unlock it once I’d seen who was standing on the other end. 

“Matilda!!! I’ve missed you!” Harry’s uncoordinated form stumbled inside as he bent down to give me a hug. I could smell the alcohol on his breath right away. 

“Oh my god, Harry, are you drunk?”

“Extremely!” He giggled and kicked off his shoes walking straight into the living room. “Look, I got food!” He announced unnecessarily loudly. At this rate, the neighbors were definitely going to complain soon. 

I ran to catch up with him and snatched the bag of food out of his hands. “You got Chinese food…and it’s from the same restaurant…Harry is this food three days old?”

Harry burst out into an obnoxious chuckle. In his current intoxicated state, things seemed about ten times funnier. 

“Of course not! I was…just trying to be cute.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

“ I already told you.”

I shook my head. 

“I miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the food down in the kitchen. Harry followed behind me like a puppy. 

“I know you’re mad-“

“I am mad.” I affirmed, eager to express my indignation. 

“I know I was an ass.”

“You were an ass.” I sat down on the couch and Harry surprised me by instantly dropping to his knees and wasting no time in burying his face into my lap. His arms came up to wrap around my waist, his face nuzzled closer and closer to my thighs as he spoke. 

“I know we’re not a couple or anything. You and Chris are a couple. Not you and me. No you and Harry. Nope….”

His fragmented rambling was already tugging at my heartstrings. I wondered if this was just his drunk talking or if he’d still stand by his actions in the harsh, sober light of day. “I just had to see you. Hate the idea of you being mad at me.”

My fingers instinctively moved to comb through his hair and scratch at the base of his scalp. He let out a big, contented sigh, a smile appearing on his face, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “That’s nice…” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of my clothes. 

“I…just didn’t realize you found me so selfish, Harry.” I spoke, still massaging his head. 

He jolted up at my words, but I pushed him gently back into my lap, his arms tightening around my waist as a counter argument. As if attempting to squeeze the idea out of me. “I don’t find you selfish! Promise! I wouldn’t be here if I did!”

“ you think I just come to you for sex…”

“I dunno. I feel like you’re never interested in anything else about me.”

Hearing him confess that broke my heart. My hands stopped in his hair, my chest aches, I was speechless. 

“It’s okay though…think I care enough for the both of us. Just wanna spend any time with you that I can. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Harry, that’s not-“

“It’s alright. I know my dick is magical.” He giggled at his own joke like a schoolboy. 

I pulled at his hair. 

“Ouch! You’re the one with the pain kink not me.”

“Focus, Harry. I do care about you. Okay? You have to believe me. I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I care about you a great deal. really! I might even say that I lov-“

“Listen, I know we have a rule about sleeping at your place but could I stay? Just for a little while? Until the sun comes up?”

“Of course. Uh, why don’t you get off the floor and come up here.” 

“Good idea.”

Harry shuffled over on unsteady feet and sat next to me. I did my best to hug and pull him closer the way he’d done the night that he stumbled upon me in his living room. In fairness, nothing much was registering in his drunk, sleepy mind, but he still laid his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. That had to count for something. At least for the time being?

[memoonthemove]

I am, by birth and lineage, a vampire killer.

But that isn't what I wanted for my life.

I won't lie and say I'm ashamed of who I am, or that I don't enjoy having power for once. For so much of my life, I was made to feel wrong, and strange, and small. Sometimes even by the people who loved me. Now there isn't a single person who could make me feel small, and I'm reasonably confident I could make anyone who tried regret it. What former lonely misfit wouldn't enjoy having that kind of power?

Still. I don't like killing, despite how much of it I do. I've got a lot of blood on my hands for someone who doesn't actually enjoy causing harm. More than most serial killers, probably, which is something I normally cope with by not thinking about it for too long. I guess I can admit that here, finally, before the end.

Because an end is coming, one way or another. I'll finally face down the twitching mess of a council that's so terrified of one little human who could stand up to them if he wanted to that they're willing to risk starting an all-out supernatural war to get rid of him. It's impulsive and stupid, but I didn't expect better. I've had nearly a decade and a half to learn about immortals and their weaknesses. It turns out the greatest one isn't even physical: becoming immortal and nearly all-powerful makes you deal very poorly with any real threat.

The irony is, if they had left me and mine alone I would never have harmed any of them. I'd never have had a reason.

But they didn't, so now I do. Going after me was one thing, but this? This can't go on anymore. I can't hide away staying safe while the SWVC sends assassins after my family--after you, mi vida. I know you're reading this, most likely when you should be sleeping. I want you to know I'm going to put an end to all this soon, one way or another.

I know you said it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing. An assassin got into the garden. I've been thinking about it non-stop for two days. What if he had gotten into the house? What if they outsourced to someone who could day-walk? A human assassin could walk right through the front door or break in through a window at any time of day, and there'd be nothing to stop them from staking most of my family while they slept because I'm not there to protect you. Like I should be.

Fuck, they wouldn't even have to go that far. Tear down all the curtains. Set the house on fire. There are a dozen ways I can think of just off the top of my head, and it's terrifying. But even if they don't think of anything outside the box...

That assassin was just the beginning. This is 2020 all over again. I know they'll send another, and another, and another. Eventually, one of them will get lucky, and I'll lose someone I love. I can't let that happen.

I have to do something before that happens.

And listen...if this goes very wrong, I need you to know that I don't regret any of it. Meeting you, the years we spent together, even the mistakes and the bad days. I'd take a bad day with you over any kind of day without you. I know you're going to yeesh at me for this and probably say I'm being dramatic. But I need you to know, in case I don't get a chance to tell you later.

Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't change it.

[buchdrache]

Book review: Storm of Wings (Dragonmaster #1) by Chris Bunch

Sometime in the distant past, I don't even know how long ago, I got hold of "Storm of Wings" by Chris Bunch, the first part of the Dragonmaster Trilogy, a fantasy series from the early 2000s. Dragons always get me, no matter how unappealing the premise may sound at first. I guess I'm quite predictable when it comes to that, ahem. The only question then is whether the book is any good. Hal Kailas is the son of poor miners somewhere in the middle of nowhere. What his area has besides ores, however, are dragons, which have fascinated Kal since childhood. He knows: his destiny lies not underground, but high in the heavens. When war breaks out over the land, Hal is drafted and somehow manages to survive the infantry. A new weapon is set to change the tide of war for good, as for the first time dragons are ridden by humans and led into battle. Hal is determined to become one of those dragon riders.

So far so ordinary. The novel certainly didn't reinvent the wheel, wasn't the worst in all aspects, but could have done a lot of things better. The novel shows quite well how the life of a poor wretch from very simple circumstances in a pseudo-medieval world can look like, especially when Hal is virtually drafted into the army off the street while still trying to struggle from job to job. Especially at the beginning his life is pretty miserable, suddenly he is thrown into the brutal reality of war and sees his comrades dying like flies. The whole thing would certainly have made a much more forceful impression if the entire novel hadn't been told in such a terribly matter-of-fact way. Maybe it's just Hal's way of dealing with things in such an unemotional way; his situation can definitely dull him. But especially towards the end he swears bloody revenge for the death of someone who meant a lot to him, and none of that comes across to the reader either. Everything is told in such a dry and episodic way, especially at the beginning the novel jumps from scene to scene and rarely lingers longer with the characters who enter Hal's life and then leave it again just as quickly. They may have left an impression on Hal, but not on the reader, who can only take on the role of passive spectator.

The main attraction of the novel are, of course, the dragons. The story of a boy and his dragon is by no means new (Eragon was published around the same time as this novel), but here the dragons are nothing more than horses with wings. At the beginning of the novel I can still feel Hal's fascination with dragons, but this fades completely into the background as soon as Hal is drafted into the army and also later when Hal actually starts training to become a dragon rider. Dragons are nothing more than a tool here, a means to an end, and basically nothing happens except that riding is reinvented. Hal is among the first to learn to ride a dragon, making him one of the pioneers in the field. I would have expected us to learn significantly more about dragons than just animals that happen to have wings and have not been ridden by humans before. Dragons are the epitome of fantasy! They are powerful and formidable and terrifying and no one is a match for them. After all, they are the medieval nuke; Aegon Targaryen took all of Westeros with just three dragons (and a few lousy armies) and united it under him. Here the dragons are simply a fancy means of transport and not at all fascinating. All rather sobering and disappointing.

The first novel revolves exclusively around the war between two nations. Those nations remain nothing more than meaningless names. Horst could have been pitted against Peter, and that would have been just as meaningful. It is suggested that the dragons may be fleeing from something in their original homeland to the region where Hal comes from, but the novel just didn't give me enough motivation to pursue this further. Also complicating matters is the dialect that is written out in places. I don't know if it's a particular English dialect, but it's always difficult to have to read written-out dialect, even more so as a non-native speaker. All in all, the novel falls far short of its potential. The worldbuilding is just mediocre and the dragons are merely tired lizards that can't keep up with their genre counterparts. Possible triggers - Death of animals - blood - Death, murder, violence against humans - War

Advertising according to §6 TMG Series information Author: Chris Bunch Title: Dragonmaster: Storm of Wings Language: English Cover illustration: Les Edwards Series: Volume 1 Pages: 407 Original price: £ 6.99 Publisher: Orbit Genre: Fantasy ISBN: 1-84149-192-6 Year of Publication: 2003[/READ-MORE]

[bondsmagii]

Man I see you getting all these asks about people turning 30 and depressed/terrified about it, but literally I'm 32 and hotter and cooler than ever. I go out with my friends and party every other night, I go to shows and festivals, camping and road trips. I'm having the time of my life, definitely having WAY more fun than I did at 22, because now I have a car, real friends, a wonderful partner, actual money and am now medicated. I look forward to the rest of my 30s, it's gonna be rad as fuck

this is such a nice message, because... yeah. I don't want to invalidate how people feel, because god knows I experienced the same kind of increasing dread as my twenties started getting behind me, so I try to go for encouragement and a different perspective rather than simply saying "oh don't worry, your twenties actually suck" lol. it's better to remind people that even if they are turning 30, that's still nowhere in the realm of "old".

but sincerely? all the evidence I have seen points to lives exponentially improving once people get out of their 20s. I think we have this idea that our 20s are going to be the time, because let's be real -- being a teenager sucks. anything seems better than that, and thanks to this and the fact that we're bombarded with media telling us what a roaring adventure our 20s will be, we go into them expecting things to be great. in reality, they pretty much suck. your 20s are the age where you're too young to be taken seriously but too old for anyone to feel sorry for you or feel an obligation to help you out or go easy on you. they're often marked by uncertainty, university stress, and poverty. many people move constantly during their 20s, thanks to university or changing financial situations, and this lack of security is also a headache. a lot of people also find it very difficult to make friends outside of a school setting, and wonder how the hell to go about it once they're an adult. finally, you're usually completely in charge of running your own living space for the first time, including thinking of meals every damn day, and that takes a lot of getting used to. by the time you hit your 30s, most, if not all, of these issues have been ironed out or are in the process of being ironed out.

my early 20s were probably the most miserable time of my life. I was living in poverty, I was stuck in a lot of situations that fucking sucked, and I wasn't a very great person. my mid 20s were spent dealing with the fallout from that shit and being unable to enjoy anything because of the financial trauma that I'd incurred. my late 20s were spent looking at 30 and feeling like shit because I thought I'd "wasted my youth" and the door was now closed for me to achieve anything. but then guess what happened! like a month and a half ago I turned 30, and I took stock of the last decade, and holy fucking shit I was glad to see it go. my life is nowhere near perfect, but I am a much better, cooler, and sexier person and I only get better, cooler, and sexier. I can no longer understand why I dreaded turning 30 so much. my most sincere advice to everyone with this dilemma in their 20s is that they should be looking forward to their 30s. only with hindsight do you realise that a lot of the stuff you were told about your 20s, that you feel like shit for "failing" to experience or achieve, was a fucking lie.

and don't even get me started about the later decades. I've had friends in their 40s, 50s, and even 70s. every single one of them insists that their current decade is the best they've had.

[animeyanderelover]

Requested from @girliesanjose123

Request: Can I have prompt 68 with Indra Otsutsuki in a soulmate AU?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, harsh behavior, controlling behavior, kidnapping, violence, abuse

Prompt 68: “You’re all I think about. I always think about holding you, kissing you, touching you, making love to you, breeding you...”

"Don't even think about it." You flinched when you heard his cold and voice ringing through the cold air of the night, a wonderful addition to his icy tone. Just as quickly as your eyes had wandered to the forest and the idea of trying to make a run for it as soon as he was asleep, the idea left you again. Instead you just turned around, staring with a scared look in your eyes at the dancing bonfire. "I'm sorry. I won't think about it again.", you muttered quickly out, a habit you had formed due to past experiences with him.

You heard something akin to a dismissing hum from him before ot became silent between you two, the only thing that made this all not too suffocating or awkward were the random noises of the night, the crackling sounds of the fire and the swooshing created by the wind. It wasn't the first time that you two just sat there like this, not speaking to each other. You because you were too intimidated and had no idea on about what you could possibly talk about with him and him because he wasn't the very talkative type. And forcing him into a conversation wasn't very wise either, he got quickly annoyed with you.

Up until this day you had troubles believing that he was really the one you had been born to be with, your soulmate. And yet his name had been engraved on your wrist since your thirteenth year of life, written down in black letters without a chance to ever erase it again. Just like your name was written down on his wrist, he had never told you since when. The most detailed answer you had gotten from him had been that he had the mark on him since quite the long time.

Soulmates were totally romanticized in your opinion even though you understood to a very small degree why people wished to have a soulmate as well. The idea of having someone who was born to be with you and would experience something that could only be described with love at first sight was tempting to imagine. But sadly the dark side of having a soulmate was overshadowed, pushed away since people only wanted to see and hear what added up to the dream relationship in their mind.

There was no other choice than this one person who was your other half, not even if you fell for someone who seemed to fit you much more perfect. This was one of the most common misunderstandings people had about soulmates. They thought they were perfect for each other and loved each other conditionally. It was a lie. You had informed yourself, read a lot of reports and letters about it, even from people who had themselves a soulmate. And in more than a few people had described that their soulmate had been nothing near perfect, they had been lazy, selfish, mean and so much more. Some had even described how their soulmate had cheated even after they had met each other which had ended in a terrible heartbreak for both parts.

Having a soulmate didn't have to mean that they loved you as well, but once this happened, it ended in a terrible pain and depression for both parties and some had even said to die because of a broken heart. What a ridiculous thing to exist. Why would have a innocent who had done nothing wrong suffer because their soulmate had to be a dick without knowing each other even that well except the sudden attraction to each other and the knowledge that they were your soulmate?

So you had never been exactly happy when receiving that mark of yours, but everyone else around you had seemed to make a huge fuss about it. Friends and classmates had envied you for it and your neighbors had started almost gushing about the name written down on your wrist, starting to talk to you about how happy you must be to have one and how cute you would look together with them. You hadn't, but with that opinion you had been sadly alone. Even your parents had sugarcoated it, maybe because they were scared what might happen to you and this Indra if you would reject them.

But you had been completely right and you could bet that everyone in the village had sobered by now up from their delusions. If he would have kidnapped you silently, they would have assumed that you might have gone with him. But you hadn't. Instead you had tried to run away from him after only a few hours of knowing him. And you still remembered how the protests and comments to try to calm you down had died down the moment Indra had started demolishing everything in his way to catch you.

You didn't know until this day what had become of all the people in the village and if some of them were even alive. You hadn't seen much, but the short glances on the place that had used to be your home once had been enough to horrify you before you had passed out after looking in red eyes with three dots spinning inside of them.

You had by now given up asking to see your family again, every begging and pleading had been harshly and coldly shut down by him that by now you had pretty much lost all hopes. You had also given up on cursing whoever had decided to set you two up, there was nothing you could do and you had sadly no one to blame for this either, leading you to wallowing in self-pity.

The most frustrating was that you knew so little about him. He had never told you much and you had long ago lost the guts to ask him. You knew he was from far away, had left due to family issues and was planning to prove something. That was about all you knew about him next to his name and that he was insanely powerful. He could be a mass murder and you wouldn't kno. He on the other hand had wanted to know about everything about you and had forced it out of you. Well, maybe he would become more open over time. He wasn't someone who seemed to warm up quickly to a stranger.

That was probably why he was so distant and cold to you most of the time next to being very strict and controlling. He striked you as someone who viewed love and attraction as a weakness, but still seemed to be sane enough to know what would happen if he would have left you behind back then when he had met you for the first time. You had read that soulmates had gone crazy for their other half after meeting them and having to endure a longer time not touching them.

He was smart enough to fulfill those needs of his which sadly also fulfilled your needs. He hadn't engaged in anything too sexual so far, but even those forced touches of his had been enough to make you feel repulsed and yet also had pulled you closer to him. You blamed the soulmate bond for it. You knew too well that you would most likely not be able to stay like this forever, being already sometimes torn apart between your huge dislike for him and the always remaining attaction for him, the butterflies you felt whenever he seemed to become more nice and softer with you.

It was frustrating enough to make you feel like crying sometimes, you hadn't want any of this, but life had to be a bitch and decide to make him from all people in this world your soulmate. You just wished you had never been born with a soulmate or at the very least never met him. You hated how you always felt a painful stinging in your chest when he ignored you or hissed angrily at you.

You knew he had to feel the same, he had to suffer when avoiding you as well. But he was far more better in handling and hiding it than you were which was another rather hurting and harsh slap in your face. Didn't he care at all? You really just thought he was, the only reason he kept you around was because he didn't want to endure the full package of pain that came with just leaving your soulmate alone. He was just too hard to read.

And yet there were those moments where you almost got the feeling he was seeking for your touches and some sort of affirmation of you, only to push you moments later away from him and look like he had no idea what he had just done either. Such moments confused you greatly and seemed to irritate him just as much. So at the very least he seemed to slowly get pulled to you as well. Was this actually a thing to be glad or terrified over?

"Are you sulking again over the fact that we're soulmates?" His voice brought you out of your thoughtful gaze, noticing with a slight shiver that he was staring at you. You guessed you had stared too long at the mark on your wrist. You didn't know how to answer this, feeling scared that the wrong answer might lead to him getting angry again. You had learned to be careful around him, you felt most of the times like you were walking on eggshells whenever with him.

You opened your mouth shortly, only to close it again after not finding the strength to do as much as uttering a single word out. You had nothing to say if you were honest with yourself. "You're not going to answer me?"

Indra had shifted slightly closer to you, eyes drilling themselves into you with a piercing intensity. He hadn't activated them yet so that meant you were still in a green zone with him, he always activated them when he was pissed off because of something. A short glance at him made you almost believe that he seemed to display genuine curiosity right now.

You hesitated for a bit, not knowing whether to be honest with him or not. Lying was always an option, but a rather stupid one, he noticed always when you lied to him and he disliked it when you lied. "Yes, I am.", you answered for a few seconds of thick silence passing by, observing cautiously his reaction.

You had expected him to either not care or just becoming mad with you, but instead you always imagined for a second something akin to exhaustion flashing over his face. But it was so quickly gone that you weren't even sure if it had been there in the first place. But it had awakened some sort of interest in him, judging from the way his attention was now hooked on you. It made you tense up, playing with your fingers awkwardly.

"You know, I never asked you this before...But what do you think of me? Be honest." This question always made you choke on your own spit, gaping dumbfounded and majorly confused at him. His face gave no emotion away he could possibly feel right now. But from the way he was looking at you, you knew that he expeted an answer, a honest one, from you.

"You're not...what I expected." It was the only true yet subtle enough statement you could think off without saying anything that could offend him too openly.

It didn't seem to satisfy him though, he furrowed his eyebrows slightly at this very vague answer of yours. "Be more specific. I want to know."

If you would tell him, he would be angry with you, you were almost certain about it. Shouldn't it have been obvious from the way you were acting around him that you didn't like him? He couldn't be that oblivious. So if he already knew, why asking? Did he perhaps want to hear it from you personally?

"You're kind of...distant..." It sounded more like a question and you said it extremely slowly, unsureness dripping from every word. You kept by now an eye on Indra so you could react when he seemed to get offended by what you said. But at the moment he appeared to be calm, just listening and watching. "Continue."

"Well, if I'm being honest I feel a bit neglected from you. You're hard to read and I can't seem to understand what you sometimes even want from me. There are those moments where you treat me like I'm just air or some sort of dog you have to punish for bad behavior. And in other moments you are suddenly being all nice and friendly with me and almost act like you care before you snap out of it again and lash out on me. You're a bit confusing to be with and I just feel like you can't stand me at all since I make you acting like this. So emotionally."

There were quite a lot of unspoken things you could have added, but that would have taken a while and were far more offendingly than what you had put in words as politely as possible and told him just now.

He didn’t say anything which you just counted as a good thing, it meant he wasn’t mad at you...At least yet. Who knew with him and his temper. “So I take it that you don’t like me, do you?”

You quirked yourself eyebrow a few millimeters upon hearing the undertone in his voice, scanning his face. He was not angry, you could tell. It was something else right now for which you needed a few moments to look at before you suddenly understood. Was he...Was he poking fun at you?!

This made you stop thinking for a moment, you had in those past few weeks never seen him displaying many emotions except anger, impatience and from time to time those nearly desperate acts of affection. But never, never had you seen him being amused, you had thought that he had been annoyed by all of this. But now he looked like he was almost about to grin which irritated you. Why was he being entertained all of a sudden? You felt a flicker of annoyance and slight anger shooting through you, making you frown a bit.

“No, of course I like you. Why wouldn’t I like my soulmate who kidnapped me, ruined my village and life and treats me like I’m a piece of shit? I’m happy to be ignored and neglected from my soulmate who seems to not like me at all.” You could not help the sarcasm dripping from your voice whilst watching him through narrowed eyes. The last sentence from you was half the truth and half a lie. You were content with him not acknowledging your presence, it saved you from his outbursts or forced affections. On the other hand it also led you to feeling a often a tingling pain of abandonment in your chest which you didn’t like at all. You could only curse at the connection you shared with Indra. You loathed it.

You heard him scoffing, his expression telling you that he was surprised, luckily not too negatively, by your sudden attitude. “You feel neglected?”, he asked you, giving you a somewhat mischievous look which made you even more irritated. “So you want me to give you more affection? Is that it?”

You didn’t like how close he had shifted to you, it made you uncomfortable and you refused to acknowledge the happy and warm tingling this sudden closeness seemed to cause in your body. “Tell me,”, he asked in a deeper voice,”do you think I hate you and you me?”

Against your will you felt your face heating up and your heartbeat increasing, staring almost hypnotized in those deep and black orbs of his in which you, for the first time since he had abducted you, saw the sparkles of emotions. Had they always been there? Granted, it was your first time looking him so directly in his eyes.

“I-I-umm...” That was about how you sounded right now, slapping yourself mentally out of embarrassment. Why were you all of a sudden so bashful? No, you refused to let him win this. You took a deep and shaky breath to come back to your senses. “Give me a reason to not think you would hate me despite those short moments where you fulfill the basic needs every soulmate feels when with his other half. And why wouldn’t I hate you?! You dragged me in this whole mess and because of you I-“

You were forcefully silenced in a way that made your heart nearly jump out of your chest. He kissed you, surprisingly warm lips moving in a firm way against yours. And you really should have done something against it. But the moment you felt his lips against yours for the first time since you had seen him, it was like a bomb exploded in your head and all of a sudden everything inside of you seemed to slow wonderfully down, no numb stinging, no unnecessary thoughts, only you and him.

Just for a short moment you seemed to forget what he had done, letting the overwhelming feelings of the special bond between you two get the better of you. And all of a sudden you found your arms around his neck, your body screaming to be closer to him. This didn’t go unnoticed by him and you felt something that would have been a smirk if your lips wouldn’t have affectionate-starved moved against his own. At the very least he seemed to share the same hunger for touches from you like the other way around because you felt his arms suddenly sliding around you and lifting you with surprisingly much carefulness yet also eagerness closer to him, chest pressed against chest so that you two could feel each other’s heartbeat beating in sync. It was such a blissful experience for you, suddenly having so much intimacy with the man who had refused to give you what you had always wanted despite refusing to admit so.

You almost whined when he suddenly pulled away, probably because he had realized that you were running short on air which you hadn’t even realized until you panted quickly for air, body still refusing to leave his sudden embrace.

“Are you sure that you hate me? Your actions just right now seemed to tell the opposite.” He himself seemed to be out of air, you hearing his slight panting, warm air hitting your neck and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

You felt shame washing over you the moment you heard his questions, refusing to look him into his eyes. Your lips had pressed into an angry line, the feeling of his mouth on yours still lingering and you cussed yourself when catching yourself wishing to just slam your lips against his once again.

“What was that for right now? Did you want to torture me by showing me how pathetic this rebellious act of mine really is?” Your voice was a hushed hissing, but the bitterness laced in it was clearly audible.

“That was one of the reasons, though not the main one.” You gnashed your teeth when hearing the smugness in his voice, obviously content with what he had just seen and felt. But you also found yourself being once again confused. Not the main one? What was that supposed to mean?

You didn’t even have to ask this, he answered it without you even having to question him. “I don’t hate you. Much more on the contrary. You’re all I think about. I always think about holding you, kissing you, touching you, making love to you, breeding you...”

You felt a disturbing feeling starting to make it’s way up your throat, forming a lump on which you almost choked. By now his eyes seemed to blaze with a sudden storm of emotion which could be put together in a few simple yet terrifying words. Twisted and sick obsession.

“You will love me. You have no choice, but to do so. You can try to neglect your feelings for as long as you want, I can guarantee you that I’ll make sure that you’ll melt in my touches. We’re soulmates (y/n). You’ll come around sooner or later.”

[wolfeyedwitch]

I want to send Celeste something but idk what. I guess I’ll send her some fluffy blankets, a blood bag, and some water bottles.

Tobias finds a box on the doorstep, labeled for the vampire. He takes it warily inside.

He sets it down and opens it carefully, inspecting the contents. Several bottles, some with water and some with blood, all wrapped in blankets.

He takes each item out for a closer examination. Nothing seems tampered with. He can't see any metal flakes in the water or blood, nothing that would poison the vampire from the inside if she drank it. The blankets seem fine too; no holy symbols stitched on, no sneaky silver embroidery.

Hm.

Well, it's not his risk to take, in the end. The vampire deserves the ability to make her own choices.

"Hey, kid?" he calls out. He still doesn't know her name, and she won't talk at all. So, nicknames were what he had. "Can you come here for a minute?"

The vampire appears at the doorway almost instantly. Tobias internally curses himself. He needs to find a way to talk to her without making it seem like orders. But that's a problem for later.

"Someone left this package on the doorstep," he explains, gesturing to the items. "It's for you. I don't know who sent it, or why. I checked as well as I could for anything wrong with it, anything that might hurt you, and I can't find anything. So, it's your choice. If you want it? Go ahead, enjoy. If not? That's fine too."

The vampire hesitantly makes her way closer, glancing between Tobias and the items. He tries to encourage her with a smile. It must work, at least a little, because she goes for the items without any more hesitation.

She runs the back of her hand gingerly over one of the blankets, like Tobias might hold a hand close to the stove to judge the temperature. It must pass whatever test she's doing, because she then runs both hands through the soft blanket, curling her hands in it.

Next, she tries the water. She opens one bottle and pours a drop onto the back of her hand. Nothing happens, which seems to surprise her. She opens the other bottle and does the same, with the same result.

She hesitates before opening the bottle of blood. She sends a furtive look to Tobias, like she's expecting to be hurt for her daring.

"It's yours," he says gently. "Go ahead."

With the encouragement, she opens the bottle of blood. She repeats the same test as with the water, pouring a drop onto the back of her hand and waiting for a reaction. When nothing happens, she raises the hand to her mouth.

Then she stops, like she's been shocked into stillness. She darts her eyes towards Tobias, looking terrified and guilty.

Tobias can't claim to understand what the vampire is thinking. She's been through so much shit; she's almost guaranteed to have issues from it. It's a little aggravating to have to give permission for every little thing, but he'd much rather give permission for things that shouldn't need it than not give permission and find she's hurt herself by denying her needs.

Tobias meets her gaze as steadily as he can, making sure to keep his expression calm.

"Go ahead," he says with a smile. "It's yours."

The vampire hesitates a moment longer, watching Tobias like she's expecting him to change his mind. He just nods to her.

Finally, she lifts her hand to her mouth and licks off the drop of blood she'd spilled there. Her eyes flutter shut, and her entire posture softens a touch. She opens her eyes again and gives Tobias a little bow.

Her obedience and what he can only call groveling make Tobias extremely uncomfortable, but again. He'd rather be slightly uncomfortable than unintentionally hurt the vampire.

So he gives her a smile. "Good?" he asks.

She nods vigorously.

"I'm glad." This time the smile isn't nearly as forced.

She goes to gather the items in her arms, glancing to Tobias for permission and reassurance. At his nod, she holds the bottles and blankets close. She gives another bow.

"You're welcome, kiddo."

@kim-poce

[chuuyas--boo]

Fic time <3.

AN; read the tags luvs.

"Riley be careful, he might hurt you again..."

Riley glanced back, her gaze locking with Eddie's under his mask. "I'll be fine, don't worry~ plus what could happen? He's probably weak at this point."

"But...he's hurt you before." Eddie was very close to the slightly taller ginger girl, and fond of her, she was always good to him.

"Trust me, Eddie. I'll be fine. If something does happen, Danny can help."

Eddie sighed and nodded. "Just...be careful..."

Riley smiled softly before going back to her floor. The revolver was already loaded, but, Riley took out all the bullets except one. And now, all she could do was wait, the grave was already dug, she'd do the headstone later, if she decides to even give him one. Those who had caused any part of her trauma hadn't gotten proper graves, she'd burned her mother alive, killed her sister on Cathy's floor which made it so she couldn't make her a grave, why would he get one? Spinning the barrel of the revolver, Riley watched him run from the other Angels, giggling like a maniac every time he got close to getting caught. Sure she wanted to kill him, but it was still funny to see him suffering.

"Ahh I bet he'd look better in a pool of his own blood..tch, not as if that's help how ugly he is."

Riley had thought of different ways she couple tortured him and killed him, but ultimately decided to borrow a revolver from Eddie, promising she'd give it back after.

While Riley seemed like a sweet girl, she was actually terrifying, giggling like she'd just seen the funniest thing ever after killing someone. Though, no ones mental state was good in that facility, so almost everyone was like that, but her sudden changes in attitude could be scary.

Her green gaze shifted to the screen, noticing he had made it to her floor. "Finally, I thought he'd never get here" Riley watched as the brunette boy; Jordan aimlessly wandered around the floor, confused and breathing heavily.

"Ahh, it couldn't have been that difficult. Especially for you...unless...you're weak."

Riley's voice echoed through the floor as she walked around in the dark, of course she knew where she was going, unlike Jordan who became even more startled.

"W-who's there?! GET OUT HERE–"

Riley giggled and circled around the boy, though still out of his line of sight.

"Who are you?"

Jordan grabbed Riley's wrist. Riley pulled her wrist away and stood right in front of him.

"I half expected you to remember me, especially since you beat me oh so many times, laughed and giggled when I'd get beaten by my family, and you tried to kill me."

Jordan's hazel gaze met Riley's piercing green gaze.

"R-Riley–?!"

"Nahhh...OF COURSE IT'S ME DUMBASS!"

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie. You're not sorry. If you were I wouldn't have a gun pointed at your head."

Jordan stumbled back, almost falling, but Riley grabbed him by the arm and yanked him towards her. "Yeahh you're not getting away like that." Riley's grip on his arm tightened every time he tried to pull away. "Stop struggling, idiot. Unless you want me to blow your brains out right now." Jordan stopped, his gaze seeming to shake with fear, Riley giggled "I guess I can see why you liked to hit me and make me cry, fear in peoples eyes is quite amusing. Especially yours, all panic stricken and afraiddd, quivering in fear~" giggling still, Riley pressed the barrel of the gun against Jordan's temple. "You have two choices, I can blow your brains out right nowww~ orrr we can play a game"

Jordan trembled violently, trying to pull away. "What g-game?"

"Oh I dunooooo..." Riley paused and smiled "Russian Roulette!~ you win, I die, just like you'd want."

"Y-yeah...that's how it works..."

"Shut up! I win, you die, and you're mine, forever."

"What do you mean by that..?"

Riley pulled the gun away from his temple and giggled "You're real dumb, huh? It doesn't matter."

"Why do you suddenly want me to be yours?!"

Riley just quietly stared at the boy "SHUT UP-"

"No! Tell me why!"

"You know exactly why! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME AND THAT YOU WOULD FOREVER! AND I SAID I'D DO THE SAME-"

Breath hitching, Riley spun the barrel, then tilted her head back, holding the barrel against her chin so that if it did end up actually shooting she'd die for sure.

"I-I DO! WAIT-"

Riley just smiled and pulled the trigger.

. . .

And nothing happened, Riley giggled "Your turn now!~ ahh you'd better hope you die from it!"

Jordan's hand grabbed Riley's, attempting to pull the gun out of her grip. "HEY– What're you doing?!"

"I didn't say YOU'D be the one to pull the trigger, after all it wouldn't be me killing you if you did. Plus it'd be more fun if I did it."

Pressing the barrel against Jordan's temple again, but before the ginger could pull the trigger, Jordan, without thinking, grabbed the girls hips and pressed his lips against hers. Riley squirmed and pulled away "WHAT THE HELL–?!" her face grew hot from embarrassment and anger.

Eddie who was watching grew slightly jealous, but also worried for the ginger girl, what if Jordan did something else...?

"I-Im sorry! I just–"

Riley smacked the boy causing him to stumble and fall, standing over him she glared at him "Don't ever touch me again. You won't get another chance anyway." Not caring about the "rules" of Russian Roulette, she spun the barrel so the slot with the bullet would be the one shot and pointed it at the trembling brunette.

"Wanna say anything else before I blow your brains out?~ mm...you'd look better in a pool of your own blood..."

Jordan could barley breath, let alone form words but he managed "I-Im sorry...I shouldn't have d–"

Riley giggled "SHUT UP YOU LITTLE LYING MANWHORE!" Without any sort of hesitation, she pulled the trigger. Blood, skull fragments, and brains splattered everywhere, on the wall, floor, even on the ginger who started giggling more, like a psychopath, her laugh was enough to send chills down the spine of even another killer, and it did, Eddie shuddered where he stood, watching the girl giggling and laughing. The sight of Jordan's body was quite gruesome, one eye hung out of its socket and the rest of that side of his face was blown off.

Sighing, Riley set the revolver on the floor, glancing at the grave she'd dug. "He'll rot too fast..." Letting out a small huff, Riley ran off and came back with an old scarf, gently pulling Jordan's body into her lap, Riley tied the scarf around his head, hiding the eye that was dangling out of its socket. After hiding the severely damaged side of Jordan's face, she carried the body towards a large freezer. "Ahh, sorry I couldn't make you look nice..." Opening the freezer, Riley sighed before gently placing the body in it. The cold would preserve it, especially in the freezer, it was alright pretty cold on her floor, but it wouldn't be cold enough. Sighing happily, the ginger left the room, Jordan was hers now.

[thejoeisthejoe]

WhumpTober: No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

Author: Robin Gurl Episode: Disappearing Floor Warnings: None. Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the idea to hurt Joe. XD

Note: please feel free to reblog, like and comment!! :) it lets me know people are reading!

No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

Joe woke up to hearing a door close. He opened his eyes to see a sliver of light disappear and turn into darkness. He looked around and tried to call for help realizing he was gagged and tied up. He moved his arms to try and untie himself but the knots were too tight.

"I found them snooping on me." A man's voice came from the hallway. "I don't know where the other one is. I got the blonde one. He's tied up in the closet. No I don't think the professor saw him."

Joe scooted over to the door listening.

"They can't know we're connected." A woman's voice said on the other side of the phone.

"What do you want me to do with the kid?"

"I'll think of something. Right now go deliver the equipment to the professor."

"Yes ma'am. I'll call you once it's delivered."

*~* Frank paced outside the house as he tries to figure out what to do. They had been tracking Taper down for the past 3 hours. When they got to the house and started to explore, Joe disappeared.

He was waiting on their father to meet him at the house before he went in. He just hoped Joe was okay. His brother had been nervous to walk into the house to begin with and after what they saw in the house, Joe was more than likely terrified.

His head shot up as he heard tires roll on the dirt road. He turned around and felt relief wash over him as his father appeared. Frank waited until the car was in park before running over. "Dad! Thank goodness you made it. I can't find Joe and I think he was taken and I'm worried it was the same people who may have the UFO and we have to find him."

Fenton held his hands out, "Alright, calm down, Frank. Now what happened? Your Aunt told me Joe disappeared?"

Frank ran his hand through his hair nervously, "We were exploring the house that Taper went into. Joe disappeared. I think he was taken."

Fenton nodded motioning for him to continue. "So you followed Taper here, you both were together and then Joe wasn't with you anymore? Are you sure he didn't get lost? This is a big house, Frank"

Frank shook his head, "I'm sure, Dad. Joe was terrified of this house. We saw wolves on the second floor in one of the rooms, then we saw a doll house in another one - Joe claimed the furniture grew… just trust me, Dad. Joe wouldn't disappear on his own. Something happened."

Fenton looked up at the house placing his hands on hips as he thought of the best way to tackle this. "Let's go in together then and see if we can find him."

*~*

Joe had dozed off after being unable to untie himself. He heard the door start to open from the cabinet and quickly wakes himself up as fast as he can. If he had a chance he needed to be ready to take it.

Taper knelt down making sure the gag was tight around Joe's mouth before he picked him up again, "Don't make a sound or I'll kill you right here, understand?"

He nodded silently but was still trying to break free somehow. He felt himself be carried down some stairs, he tried to memorize where he was being taken but it was too confusing.

"What are you doing with the kid? Didn't you have orders to keep him upstairs?" Someone exclaimed angerily. "Don't turn him around, I don’t want him to see me."

"A car pulled up, I thought maybe it would be best to get him someplace else."

They both silent as the front door opens. Joe's eyes widened hoping it was Frank. The well decorated room suddenly disappeared right in front of his eyes leaving a dusty unfinished room.

"I see, so there is a time limit." Taper mused.

They both froze as foot steps could be heard. "Drop him. He's of no use to us."

"But what if he identifies me? He'll start screaming as soon as I put him down."

"Then make sure he doesn't." The other voice sounded frustrated and upset with Taper. Joe tried to remember the voice, it sounded female. "Honestly, if you can't help me with this simple task then are you really up for helping me in the long run? You've got to let go of this afraid to kill fear."

There was a long silence before he responded, "Understood. I'll meet you later."

Before Joe could figure out what was going on he was dropped onto the ground hard. He groaned in pain unable to sit up, his arms and legs still tied. He opened his eyes only to be met with a "sorry kid" and then darkness.

*~*

"Joe?" Frank called out looking around the dusty house.

"Antique furniture you said?" Fenton asked looking around the house. "This place is empty. Are you sure this is the right house?"

"Yes, sir… I know it is." Frank was starting to panic a bit. He didn't usually second guess himself but after everything that had happened so far, he didn't know if what he was seeing was real. He looked up sighing relieved as he saw the drawing room they had first entered. "Here! This is that first room I was telling you about."

He pulls his father into the room. He expected to see the same doll house type set up he'd seen originally instead he saw an empty room. His heart sank, "D-Dad I don't know anymore…"

Fenton sighed and reached out squeezing his son's shoulder, "Easy, Frank. I trust you. If you say this is the house then it's the house. Let's try this door."

"I'm really worried about Joe.." Frank said softly. "If the Russians are after whatever this is then they could really hurt him."

Fenton didn't verbally answer this time but was thinking the same thing. He forced the door open to the next room nearly falling into it. There was no natural light coming into this one as there were no windows.

He stopped Frank from going in as he pulled out a pen light from his pocket turning it on. "Let me look first."

Frank stayed at the entrance waiting impatiently, he rocked back and forth on his heels wanting to find his brother. "Dad?"

"Frank, get in here. I found him."

[icharchivist]

Hi same nonny as usual haha! You asked for my thoughts on the spring troupe so now that I've finished the summer troupe debut I'm going to knock out two birds with one stone! I liked summer troupe a lot more then spring troupe. Not that I didn't like spring troupe! I just think that they didn't really communicate with each other?

The only reason why sakuyas issue with swordfighting was resolved was because masumi happened to be eavesdropping on a convo with the director, and why someone knew about itarus injury was because of citron noticing. I'm not saying there was no communication at all these two issues just. Bothered me so much the swordfighting one a lot more then the injury. The thing that bothers me about the injury is that itaru wasn't like. Told off for not telling anyone about his injury. Cause he could have seriously damaged his foot or something. I get that in the future there's probably going to be character development for itaru that lets him open up more to his troupemates. The swordfighting one just felt like a cop out to have a "moment" between sakuya and the director instead of having sakuya discuss that stuff with his troupe (which, bleh do not care for the characters flirting with the director at all. wish it wasn't there but I get why they do it.)

Despite my griping I did really enjoy spring troupe! They were fun! They just felt less trusting of each other then summer troupe at the end of day. And I get that char Dev will prob happen bout that but still haha. That's my thoughts on spring troupe! I could just be horribly misremembering the entire episode but oh well!

I know I said I'd also do summer troupe in this ask but it's already horribly long and I'm writing this on my phone. I'll get to that later. Thanks for reading my rambling that has not been proofread at all or edited. Hopefully it makes some sense hahaha. Thanks for introducing me to a3 it's tons of fun.

aaahh thanks for sharing!!!

honestly i kinda get where you’re coming from. I really love Spring, but it’s especially now in insight of their development. On first read, i think the thing especially was that the chapter was more about setting up some of the most major issues of the universe (the debts, the way  to arrange themselves in that new environment ect..) that therefore the characters issues may be not as focused as the others chapters?

(also for character flirting with MC there will be only 2 in main stories that do that a lot, one of which is Masumi, and the other isn’t much flirting as just hopelessly in love. Not much we can do about it but honestly once you move on from spring if this really holds you down, it will ease off at least, even if there’s a few thingss here and there stil)

Summer was the moment i really fell in love with the game, i really, really adore Summer’s dynamic and it was just. so good to go through.

As for the things you bring up about Spring, on one hand on first read i think i get you, but yeaaaah in insight of all we learn about the characters, it’s really not that far fetched ahah.

For Sakuya imo it’s really just that he freaked out because of his abandon issues and i don’t really see him discussing it with Spring yet at this point? Like. Sakuya is terrified of not being good enough and being abandoned as a result, like all of his relatives ever did. So he tries to compensate. When Masumi just brought up that they’ll just replace him, i don’t find it far fetched that Sakuya freaked out about it and failed to explain it to Masumi at the time. 

Those very same issues also lead Sakuya to hold on everything bad ever to himself. The reason he opens up to Izumi, more than her just coming to him there, is that she already proved before that she wasn’t willing to abandon him, if only by how she took up the theater because of his passion to start with. And, just, timingwise. 

And i think Sakuya wouldn’t have taken reassurances from his others troupesmates who have already made clear they believed in him, because i think Sakuya would be more crushed with the idea that they’re just being polite and kind with him. Because he knows he’s failing and the others’s way to reassure him would probably have made it worse. He needed reassurance 1) from the director who at this point has already started to be giving more constructive critisms, 2) Masumi, who’s the one who caused those insecurities by the fact he doesn’t hold back. But i don’t see him reach of to Masumi with how hostile Masumi has been to everyone up until that point. (i have more thoughts but that’d be me overreading it too but dKJFDLKF a3 makes my brain go brr)

As for Masumi, this kid has serious communication issues (only child with no friends and no parents around? oof) and i don’t think he would have reached out to Sakuya or even figured something was wrong otherwise.

Are those just easy way out for the writers? maybe, but that’s just how writing is isn’t it? if you want to make even some “artificial” conflict, you need to make it believable why this conflict exist even in the first place. 

Honestly the swordfighting issue doesn’t strike like that to me, and those are all about things that are shown in the Spring chapter itself, but i suppose since i also know those things are expended on, it does add a layer of “this was made with depth for their characters in mind” imo.

Also i think if Masumi hadn’t eardropped, Izumi would have talked to him about it, being the mediator and all of that, and i think Masumi would have understood then. I don’t think Masumi was unwilling to understand, but that he lacked the groundwork to understand it. and we mostly were spared from having to repeat the scene with Izumi telling him about it.

Idk if i see Sakuya managing to tell it to Masumi even after this talk? I think Sakuya is the kind to take all of his pain in silence and assume responsibilities for everything that goes wrong, and i don’t think he would have felt comfortable opening up with that, especially since, as he tells Izumi, he genuinely feels like *he’s* the failure about it (and as Izumi tells him, it’s not his fault if others people don’t try either. Sakuya was made to believe that he had to take full responsibility when a relationship doesn’t work because of his relatives, and i think he was set on doing the same with this Massu’s situation, and the reason he could share it with Izumi is because she’s not the person he’s taking responsibility for). On top of that, Sakuya remains Masumi’s elder, and Sakuya does want to be someone people rely on - he wants to be a big brother figure, and i think he wouldn’t have wanted or known how much of this responsibility he could share with Masumi knowing that. And i don’t think it’s healthy! but it’s perfectly understandable from Sakuya’s perspective and the specific way he shoulders responsibilities because i will fistfight his family his family sucked.

As for Itaru, on this one we only got the reveals about how deep this lack of trust Itaru had for people ran only recently, so imo early on you just need to take it at face value and hope when you get to know more, it’ll click. Realizing he doesn’t want to be alone anymore and wants to be more with Spring is a turning point from this set up about him, so he can only develop from here.

For why no one really told him off about it, i guess i can understand the grip ahah. imo i think everyone worried already enough that he was talking about leaving the company this was the priority to discuss and i do think talking about his ankle at that point may have not worked with the pacing of the emotional moment. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some of them being more worried about it in general though.

In the end the thing with Spring is that aside from Tsuzuru, they are all people who come from background where communication isn’t their forte. Sakuya fears he’s never good enough, Masumi never even had to face how lonely his life had made him until now (and i think he specifically lashes on the director because it’s the first time he feels like he wants a connection with anyone in his life and he doesn’t know what to do with it. I find his obsession creepy imo but i also see where it’s coming from), Itaru has severe trust issues and rather be solo in general, and Citron hides a lot about himself.

and i think, we have Tsuzuru has never been really alone ever, and he takes a lot of responsibility, (though there’s a few things about his background we learn later that shows he still has similar struggles than the rest of his troupe regarding some.. broken connection, which he vagues at in the Spring chapter (... which is something i only noticed on my reread knowing that so i wouldn’t blame you for not catching it))  but he’s also trying to do things for himself for once in his life. Ultimately he knows how to communicate more in general but he has that going on for him, and especially, i think his way to communicate or connect may be too foreign for the rest of the troupe for a smooth connection off the bat.

All of them are trying to connect in their own ways coming from those complicated feelings they have about connection imo... and i do find it fascinating. 

I see Spring a lot like, the kids who had to grow up too fast and the adults who are unhappy with where their adult lives have taken them and the expectations pushed upon them who yet are trying to cope on their own mostly because they have reasons to feel unsafe otherwise. (Tsuzuru is a bit in between imo bc he’s not “unsafe” yet and he’s already taking himself back in hands with the expectations things, but anyway, i am. trying to keep it short, believe it or not) And they’re still navigating where that leaves them as people, and where that leaves them in their connection with others, and especially with each other because in the end they’re all yearning to connect especially with one another, and just don’t know how to reconcile this desire with who they have been all this time to cope through all of this.

All of this is present in the Spring intro chapter but ^^” i could imagine that without having the full picture those aren’t things that may be easily picked up as important for their characterizations. But honestly there’s a throve of details in the writing to flesh them out when you know where to look and i find it fascinating. (but also i like. relived this chapter 5 times, 4 of which after i’ve seen most of their development, and my first read is so long ago i think i just overthink everything DLKJFDLKF and like, Spring was one of my least favorite at first read bc i struggled to connect with them, so it’s not like i don’t get you, it’s just. nowadays, spring is care spring is love and i cry over their intro chap a lot.)

Anyway i guess i get what you felt still, but, idk maybe i feel strongly about it ahah, i like the way the characters stand out from one another even in the moments that are probably just.. stupid, but in a “they wouldn’t know how to do better because of what’s holding them back” way.

i feel like “lack of communication” is a problem every troupe have to various degree and for different reasons, but the whole thing is about trying to figure out how to fix that and work it with them. Some are more forward than others (like, Summer, mostly because Tenma and Yuki are stubborn and loud and straightforward in their own way)(”than others” i have so much to say about this i’m holding back dLKFJD) but i think it depends also a lot on some thematic it wants to tackle and the spirit of the characters in each troupe. It changes as the story progresses but yeah after all, they are all strangers. And while the game mentions they have a few months to prepare for their play, it was reckoned that every play takes one month to prepare, so it doesn’t really give a lot of time on their first play to really figure out everything they need to work on.

Spring, in essence, as a season, is about blooming back after Winter, after sadness and hardship, and learning how to slowly open up again. So imo their intro chap have to reflect that slow progress for them. While Summer can afford to be more loud, straight to the point (and even there it’s not always easy), Summer is full of learning from their mistake, living in the Now, in the Moment. So their season thematic reflects a bit in their intro chap at least. (ofc they all grow from there though but that’s still interesting imo).

anyway i rambled LDFJDLKFJFDLK

I didn’t mean it in a way to say your reading is invalid though!! sorry if it feels that way, i’ve tried rewriting it a few times DLKFJDLFK i just have a lot of emotions about Spring and the points you mentioned made me think about some stuff about it. 

ANYWAY

if you want to share your thoughts about summer too and the rest you’re always welcomed o7 i’m glad you’re still enjoying your stay, and i hope you’ll keep enjoying the ride!

And Take care!

[aethersea]

fake married + poorly timed confession + the leverage ot3? or any component ship, i'm not picky xD

as it happens, I was already planning on writing a fake married fic for the ot3! so this is more fic than fic description, though I couldn’t really convince myself that any of these three would full-on confess in the middle of a con which is, of course, the most poorly timed you can get. but here you go and please enjoy, mind the cut!

for this ask meme, which is still open

Parker and Eliot crash a senator’s garden party, posing as a married couple so they can be each other’s cover while each one sneaks off in turn. When Eliot needs to take a quiet moment to get rid of the guards on the roof, he excuses himself from the conversation in the parlor with a grin and a, “Better go make sure the little lady’s not having too much fun without me!” This wins a round of chuckles, and Eliot rolls his eyes as he turns away.

Parker, a few seconds later and out in the garden, just blurts out, “I’m going to look for my husband,” and clomps off.Sophie, keeping the senator busy at the buffet table, turns her eyes to the heavens in supplication.

Eliot meets Nate on the roof once the guards are dealt with, and leads him down to the senator’s bedroom so he can lie in wait and be all spooky when Sophie sends the senator up to look for his watch. Parker, meanwhile, is raiding the senator’s office safe for something Nate can blackmail him with. It’s a tightly timed con, but Eliot has a good four minutes to get himself back to the garden before the house guards notice that something’s gone wrong on the roof.

Or so he thought—they must have better failsafes in place than they’d realized, because Parker almost gets caught on her way back from cracking the senator’s office safe. Eliot, who’s half a corridor away and only just done getting his shirt and hair back in order, huffs in exasperation and rushes to intercept the guards about to reach her.

He rushes fast enough that he reaches her first, and instead of letting him barrel past her, Parker grabs him and swings him up against the nearest wall.

When the guards turn the corner, they find the two of them passionately making out. Parker pulls away from Eliot and says, with a drunken giggle, “You boys here to join the fun? Careful, my man here’s mighty possessive.” She lays her head on Eliot’s shoulder, and he takes the hint and glares the guards away.

- - - - - - -

Eliot does not talk to Hardison about this. The absence of that talk is a palpable weight in the van as they drive away from the senator’s house. Nate and Sophie can feel it too, he knows, from Nate’s wince and Sophie’s brief but sympathetic smile. It’s not like Hardison and Parker are—It’s not that they don’t—Well they are, actually, but—

Eliot takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. Hardison and Parker are dating, and even before that Parker had really only ever kissed Hardison on cons, but Hardison isn’t possessive, no matter the spike of horror that flashed through Eliot at Parker’s words to the guards. He has to know that Eliot would never try anything with Parker, would never hurt either of them like that. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.

Still, he’s deeply relieved when Nate says that their next angle of attack is going to involve Hardison and Parker handling the real estate agency, just the two of them, while Eliot provides backup for Sophie almost all the way across town.

- - - - - - -

That relief means that Eliot is not even remotely braced for it when, at the last minute, the plan changes.

It turns out that the mobster’s cousin runs the real estate agency. This explains why the agency’s involved in the first place, but not how, so they still need to get Hardison in there to do his magic on their servers. “Alright,” Nate says, “Eliot, you’re switching with Parker. The mob might be hiding the drugs at the agency, so keep an eye out for guards.”

Hardison groans. “Come on, Nate, I already booked the appointment for Mr. and Mrs. Dallanby! Newlyweds, they just got back from their honeymoon in Kenya, I—I set up the facebook pictures, man—”

“We’ll just have to hope they didn’t do a background check,” Nate says, and Hardison grumbles but Eliot hears keys clicking on the line as he switches the personas around. “If they did, you’ll just pull a Bogota Chop Shop on them.”

So Eliot has to gun it across town to meet Hardison in front of the realtors’. (Parker, making the same trip in reverse, reaches Sophie a full five minutes earlier, because she is a maniac who should never be allowed behind a wheel.)

Eliot and Hardison still have not talked. Eliot tries not to think about that as he pulls into the agency parking lot and Hardison hops out of Lucille to join him. Somehow he is still trying not to think about it when Hardison takes his hand, pulls him through the front door, and introduces them as “Mr. and Mr. Dallanby, oh were you expecting a Mrs. Dallanby? Of course you were, of course, why do I even—I guess we should go somewhere else, hmm, what do you think about that? Come on honey, we’re leaving! I’m so sick of—”

Eliot finally pushes past the weird anxiety that won’t let go of his brain and manages to say something empty and reassuring, and then the receptionist is nervously insisting it was just a typo in the system and offering them coffee while they wait, and Hardison grumpily allows himself to be pulled away toward the waiting room couch.

He doesn’t drop the act there, though. He leans against Eliot and—and snuggles up against him, and somehow Eliot’s arm is around Hardison’s shoulder, and something inside him panics and tries to pull away but Hardison grabs his hand and yanks it down and hisses, “Look the goddamn part!” and there’s nothing Eliot can do but sit there and take it.

They still haven’t talked. Eliot can feel the tension in Hardison’s shoulders. He swallows hard and tries not to think about it.

- - - - - - -

No one at the restaurant opening should recognize him, but Eliot keeps out of the serving area anyway. It’s not hard—whenever the owner comes out and says someone wants to meet the chef, he just snarls that he’s too busy and ignores the woman until she goes away. It’s a lie—he’s only had three days with this kitchen team but he must grudgingly admit that they’re on top of things. Eliot keeps an eye on it all anyway, making sure the prawns don’t overcook and the beef doesn’t boil, with only half an ear for the drama happening in the serving area.

Hardison and Parker are building up to a fight. Eliot does his best to tune out Parker’s insults, Hardison’s anger, and Sophie’s careful coaching on when to escalate and when to wait. He’s not on until later, when the senator shows up; for now his biggest concern is fixing the garnish on these flounder fillets. Something’s still not quite right––maybe some shallots…

The argument in his ear crescendoes and crests. Hardison storms off in a rage. Parker fakes a few weirdly convincing sobs. For such a wooden grifter, she’s surprisingly good at pretending to cry. It’s barely a minute before the divorce attorney sitting behind Parker turns around to offer his services. Eliot can practically hear Sophie’s smug smile.

Hardison goes back to Lucille, or so Eliot thought. When he admits to himself that he’s micromanaging the kitchen more than he needs to be and retreats to the pantry, ostensibly to fetch some carrots but really to cool down, he finds Hardison leaning against the door, fiddling with his phone and munching on an apple.

Eliot almost snatches it out of his hand. “Don’t take those,” he snarls. “They’re for the chicken waldorf, not for you.”

Hardison shrugs, that slow grin of his spreading across his face. “I’m a thief. What do you expect?”

Eliot rolls his eyes and shoves past him to get the carrots. When he turns around, Hardison is framed in the doorway, blocking his way out. Before Eliot can snap at him, he says, “Hey man, are you okay?”

Eliot raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. This is a long con, but not a difficult one. And he got to punch out three of the senator’s security staff just a few days ago. He’s fine.

“You’ve been kinda off these past few days. And you disappear the moment we break for the day.” Hardison doesn’t shrug or quirk a smile to take the edge off his words, like most people would. He looks steadily at Eliot, eyes gentle, and keeps his voice soft and calm. “You know we’re here for you, right? If you’re having trouble with something, or if you just want to talk, we’re here. You’re not alone anymore.

“Our mikes are off,” he adds belatedly, gesturing with his phone. “Just us here.”

It’s a special kind of courage, being entirely sincere with someone, opening yourself to the possibility of whatever they might throw at you. Hardison screams when Parker drops him off of even two-storey buildings and panics at the first threat of violence, but in his own way he’s braver than the rest of them put together. It’s admirable. It’s terrifying. Eliot glares, feeling his fingers clench around the carrot leaves, and knows that there is nothing he can do to intimidate Hardison even a little bit.

It’s not out of fear, then, that Hardison lowers his gaze and steps aside so he’s no longer blocking the only exit. It’s a concession, freely given.

Eliot has a brief, violent internal argument.

He can still hear Parker keeping the lawyer busy and Sophie advising her on how much to flirt, but after all these years of practice it’s easy enough to tune it all out and just listen for his name. He takes a deep breath, and then another.

“You and Parker are good together,” he says. Hardison’s eyes flick up, surprised but almost managing to hide it. “And I’m—I’m so happy for you both.” He doesn’t notice the way he ducks his chin a fraction until after he’s done it, bracing for a punch he knows won’t come. “And you know that I don’t—that I would never—Look, she’s your girlfriend, I’m not ever going to…to even try to…”

This whole being brave thing isn’t working out too well. Hardison is watching him with patient incomprehension. Eliot squares his shoulders and opens his mouth to do this right, but before he can, someone in the hallway cries out, “Girlfriend?!”

Hardison jumps. Eliot lunges forward to grab him and shove him into the pantry, so Eliot is between him and whoever this is, but it’s too late, there’s a hand reaching out and shoving Hardison’s chest, pushing him away from the door—

The hand is followed by an angry waitress—Jenna? Jamie?—who is utterly and bafflingly furious. “You asshole!” she yells over Hardison’s confused spluttering, “I hope she does divorce you!”

Eliot puts out an arm to block Jemima’s rampage, and she turns her look of absolute disgust on him. “Chef, were you aware this jackass is married?”

“Eliot!” Nate says in his ear, at the literal worst possible moment. “You’ve got incoming!”

“Married!” Joanna screeches in Hardison’s face. She’s not quite straining against Eliot’s arm, but she’s conveying through body language and intonation that she’s about three seconds away from violence. “And you have a girlfriend!”

Hardison’s face is absolutely priceless. At a better moment, Eliot would stop to appreciate it, but right now there are three mobsters rounding the corner just a couple feet behind Hardison, and they recognize Eliot from the real estate agency. “Mr. Dallanby?” one of them says, sincerely confused.

Hardison jumps again and glances over his shoulder. “Mr. Dallanby?” another mobster says.

The third one gasps. “You have a girlfriend?”

“He does!” Jen crows. “He’s a goddamn cheater!”

“Oh that’s messed up,” the first mobster says. The other two mutter their agreement. They step forward until they’re looming menacingly behind Hardison. The second mobster turns to Eliot and says kindly, “Are you okay, Mr. Dallanby?”

Hardison is stiff as a board, his eyes wide in a silent plea for Eliot to do something. Eliot, absolutely nonplussed, opens his mouth and closes it several times before he manages, “I’m fine, thanks. It’s—we’re working it out.”

There’s an unintelligible commotion in his ear and Jackie is starting to realize that something’s up. Eliot wonders desperately if this is a nightmare. The first mobster, who seems to be in charge, steps forward and offers, “If you need a hand, son, or if you need a moment to process this—”

“That’s okay,” Eliot says hurriedly. He’s trying to parse the jumble in his ear, and it’s not working but he’s pretty sure the main concern is that he and Hardison have gone off comms and not gone back on again. “I’m—we’re good.” He steps forward and grabs Hardison’s hand, pulling him away from the mobsters.

This, unfortunately, puts him right next to Janice, who declares in strident tones, “Oh no you are not! You have a wife back there, asshole, you can’t just cheat on her and expect—“

At that precise moment, the senator walks around the corner behind the mobsters. “I thought we were supposed to meet in the—Ted Dalton? What are you doing here?” Because of course, they had to be conning the one senator in all of Congress who actually learns the names and faces of every guest at his garden parties, well enough to recognize Eliot three entire days later and dressed as a chef.

The mobsters frown. “Wife?”

Parker, skidding around the corner behind Eliot with an audible squeak of tennis shoes on linoleum, says quietly, “Oh shit.”

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 11.5

What Does a Moth Sound Like?

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time: the party returned to Barley to deal with a few loose ends while their hired muscle dealt with the biggest, scaliest loose end. Between that session and the next, we had a brief mini-session to wrap up one of said ends we'd left unwrapped- what exactly is up with the Kanthalga family?

(Also included: a conversational omake between Looseleaf and Saelhen, pictured courtesy of @drazelic, Looseleaf's player.)

After their encounter with Kensa, Oyobi tries to talk the party into going to the tower and helping the Deathseekers kill the dragon. Her brilliant plan of "stab it in the brain before it can cast any spells" has some flaws, though, and they patiently explain the plan's many flaws and strike a blow against Oyobi's sense of invincibility.

They also ask Malath a few questions, trying to get to the bottom of her odd discomfort with the idea of the dragon as a culprit and the presence of Deathseekers.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "When we spoke before, you asked us whether the dragon was green. I regret that I still cannot answer, as I have not seen it, or heard any news on the topic from the deathseekers. But you seemed... concerned that it might be a green dragon. Is there any reason that such a dragon might pose a particular threat to your town?" Benedict I. (GM): "Mmm. I don't know if you've heard, but... going on thirty years ago, there was a town to the east called Grain." "It was attacked by a green dragon, and the elders... as the dragon had words with them, they had to be remanded to the custody of their gods." Looseleaf: Oooh, that is harsh. Benedict I. (GM): "In the ensuing chaos, the miscreants who now inhabit Wheat set fire to the town and fled further east." "The survivors of the disaster fled west, and established Barley here." "If that same dragon still has its sights on our people, we could be in grave danger." "We refused to submit once, and it very nearly destroyed us."

As far as they can tell from their questioning, Malath isn't hiding any dark secret- she's just sort of a control freak, who's nervous that her control over the people might slip. Plus she's worried that if the dragon is provoked and comes to town, she- as the current elder in charge- might suffer the same fate as Grain's elders.

Saelhen... isn't satisfied with this. Something seems wrong about Malath Kanthalga- Thalath wouldn't try to enlist their help rescuing Kensa for no reason. She takes the party to the general store, in hopes of catching Kensa on her nightly delivery.

Kensa arrives as expected, but when she sees Saelhen there, she makes her delivery and tries to leave, rather than sit at the loom as is her custom. She seems afraid of Saelhen.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I don't intend to keep you from your work. Though I did have a question I wanted to ask you, dear. If you'll permit me one." Kensa Kanthalga: "...A question?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Of a sensitive nature, possibly. Something vouchsafed to me by... someone you might know." Kensa Kanthalga: She looks less afraid and more confused, now. And after thinking a moment... "...oh." She actually looks a little angry, now. "That makes sense." "He sent you, didn't he?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Okay, the conclusions she's reached here... may or may not be correct! "Under what I am starting to think may have been false pretenses." Kensa Kanthalga: "What did he tell you? Did he say I was being brainwashed?" "I don't need to be rescued from my duty by someone who abandoned his!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "More a very general concern for your person than anything --" Ah, there's the word that raises her hackles, duty.

Having somewhat misread the situation, Saelhen is unpleasantly surprised to find that Kensa seems just as devoted to the teachings of Diamode as Malath is, and has no interest in fleeing. She seems contemptuous of her older brother on the basis that, uh...

Well, the Goddess of Family, who's all about having kids and living a very prescribed sort of life path inside strict gender roles, is- as might be unsurprising- a bit of a homophobe. The party never met Thalath's boyfriend (who works the night shift at Wheatley Inn- they never stayed the night there), but there are several reasons why the place isn't popular with the locals.

Saelhen is caught kind of flat-footed here- she can tell something's still not quite right, but she doesn't have the kind of cultural context to unravel this level of baggage.

Luckily, she brought along an ersatz cleric of Diamode, and so... Orluthe is able to spot the missing piece of the puzzle.

Orluthe Chokorov: Orluthe, in the back, has been looking increasingly uncomfortable. So far, he's had his stole and cap stowed away, so as not to be recognized as a cleric of Diamode. He's now taking them out and putting them on. "Hey, um, miss?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen... legitimately forgot he had those. Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa turns and notices him- possibly for the first time. "Oh, ah- Mr., um..." Orluthe Chokorov: "Chokorov," he says. "I'm..." He holds up a hand, and points at a tiny circular scar around his pinky finger. "You have one of these, right?" Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa looks down at her hand, and you can see- yes, she has a matching scar. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Well. That's novel information about Orluthe. Religion check to... I mean, we know the finger-cutting thing. I guess a "what does this mean, it's not like these two have disowned anyone" check. 13 - RELIGION (2) Benedict I. (GM): With a 13, you know that only a parent needs to cut off their finger- but you're not sure what happens with sibling relationships. This might be something related- like you don't have to cut your finger off all the way? Some sort of signifier that the connection has been severed, though you don't know the finer doctrinal points. Orluthe Chokorov: "My older sister," he says. "Four years ago. We all had to get the mark." Kensa Kanthalga: "Wait, but..." Orluthe Chokorov: "You didn't want that to happen to you, too, right?" "You can't stand up to a power like that. You'd never win, right? If I tried to defend my sister, my parents would have two missing fingers." "You have to pretend, right?" Kensa Kanthalga: "Why... no, it's... I really...!" Orluthe Chokorov: "Feels that way, doesn't it? For a long time." Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa looks terrified- like for the first time, someone's seen right through her. Orluthe Chokorov:"It's not a betrayal of your family- of your duty- to... have love." "There's nothing in Diamode's teachings about the mark, you know? Neither of us had to take it." Saelhen du Fishercrown: ...well. That's a... new consideration. Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa's on the verge of tears, looking like she's about to bolt. "N-no, I- I really... want to... I have to..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen is right back to Steal This Child Town. "...wait, do you seriously mean that the finger-cutting thing came after the scripture?" Orluthe Chokorov: Orluthe nods. "I mean, the finger-cutting is... it's a punishment. You're not supposed to disown your children. It's not like you can do it and then you lose the finger and then you're all square and it's fine." "And when parents scar their kids' fingers to make them share in a punishment for a sin they didn't commit... Diamode doesn't want that." "I should know," he says, gesturing to his vestments. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...well. Thank you, Orluthe." Saelhen's face is hard. "I was previously under the impression that I had misunderstood a culture which is strange to me." "But now it sounds as if... I haven't, quite." Kensa Kanthalga: Kensa's makeup is starting to run. "What... what do you know? I- I wanted to... if I could've... I couldn't..." "What do you want with me?!" "I had to, okay? I have to!"

Orluthe having successfully exposed Kensa's fear and dissatisfaction with the situation, Saelhen proceeds to talk her around to trying to leave. It's pretty touch-and-go for a little bit, but Kensa's mind is made up when the party mentions that they're going to be passing through Corolos. Apparently, there's something there she really cares a lot about...?

So they're going to need a few days for Kensa to prepare to, uh, run away with a bunch of strangers. That's- this is technically kidnapping, right? This isn't something you should do in real life? This is kind of bad? Hm. Well.

-

Anyway, they've got some downtime here in Barley while the Deathseekers do their work and Kensa prepares to leave. And- well, later in the campaign, there was a flashback to this time period, so I'm going to cover that scene here.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: So: days in the past (but not many)... It's Cassie Zeishus's inn, and Saelhen is brushing up on her card tricks; she's let herself get rusty, just a bit, ever since she left... Well, since she got to Oyashio, anyway. She's cutting a borrowed deck at one of the inn's tables, downstairs, flicking cards from hand to hand, then up her giant poofy sleeves. Where's Looseleaf? Looseleaf: Probably sitting around outside, doing her whole 'fix-things-up' gimmick! After the early burst of things-to-fix, though, business has dried up a little. There's just not that many broken things left to fix that people need help with after a while! Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen is... bored, she decides, for a reason. She can't evaluate how impressive her card tricks/cheating techniques are without a proper audience! She knows how they work already! So she leans out the door. "How goes the repair work?" Looseleaf: "It isnnnnn't," Looseleaf says back. "I think that there's not much repair work left in Barley at all!" "I've done too good a job and my business has dried up. This is why you never peddle perfect cures, innit." Abruptly, she gets up from the carpet she'd gotten Orluthe to roll out for her- the one from Lumiere's tower. "Boooored." She rolls it up. "I demand entertainment."

Saelhen decides to entertain Looseleaf by performing a card trick... and proceeds to roll a natural 1 on her sleight of hand check. She completely fucks it up, and Looseleaf- who had to be convinced to put money on the wager- earns herself a silver piece.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I lost the card." "So I'm going to have to replace that for Cassie. On account of her deck being a card short." "Your card, specifically." Looseleaf: "Hhhhokay." "Wow, you're actually serious, aren't you." "I thought this was still part of the bit, but, if you're serious, you know the card's on the underside of your shoe, right?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I just want to reassure you that I'm good at this, Looseleaf --" Looseleaf: "I thought you'd stepped on it because, y'know, part of the trick." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "No, I already checked there --" Saelhen finds the Hierophant stuck to her instep. There's a beat. Then she blushes furiously, in what looks like actual mortification. "Oh damn it." "I haven't done that since I was sixteen, what the hell..." Looseleaf: Looseleaf laughs. It doesn't sound like her usual laugh, and you can only tell it's a laugh because she's bowled over laughing. The actual sound of the laughter sounds like- trilling chirps with a hint of vibration, a distinctly insectile sound. "Oh gods," she says while somehow still laughing simultaneously, "that was- I'm so sorry about how much I'm laughing, Saelhen-" She's still moth-laughing. "Please understand that your status is no way diminished in my eyes and you are still every bit as much of the cool conwoman you always were in my eyes- oh my gods I'm going to die laughing."

Saelhen, intrigued, attempts to use her preternatural skill at impressions to try and copy the laughter, which Looseleaf finds freaky-deaky.

Looseleaf: "Yeah, if you really want to imitate mothspeech what you actually need are the standard instruments. Your throats are not cut out for the kinds of vibes we naturally talk with." "No offense- your throats are perfectly nice, I mean." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I'm aware my throat is lovely." "What do you mean, standard instruments? Some kind of... pipe, or flute, or something?" Looseleaf: "The Standard Instruments," she says, this time with an intonation so that Saelhen can tell it's words with Capitalized Letters, "are... sort of like a flute, yeah, except instead of working like a woodwind it's more like, a bunch of little flutes with flaps of springy metal at the end, so when you blow through the flute the flaps vibrate and you get a sound that's way closer to the range of sounds we make, and it doesn't hurt your throat nearly as much. The Standard Instruments for imitation mothspeech." "Alternatively, if you knew spirit magic, we could have just taken you to the Archive of the Ever-Living Voice, but that's not really an option..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen attempts to imagine this. "So, ten harmonicas glued together." Looseleaf: "Yeah pretty much." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...that last comment sounded alarmingly practical, in its concerns, Looseleaf." "Are you proposing to teach me, here?" Looseleaf: "How dare you imply that I would ever let slip the magical secrets of my people to an outsider who knows nothing of our ways or our culture why I am absolutely offended and ha ha I'm just messing around." "If you want to learn mothspeech," Looseleaf hesitates for a moment. "...Well, we should get started by trying to put together, as you put it, ten harmonicas!" "...Does this town have harmonicas?" Benedict I. (GM): This town totally has harmonicas.

So it looks like Looseleaf is going to be teaching Saelhen the language of the mothfolk!

Looseleaf hesitates, though. "...You know, learning mothspeech is- well, it's not likely to be useful, you know?" "There's, like, no chance you're ever going to get to really put it into use with anybody other than me." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...it is a bit obscure, isn't it?" Saelhen looks contemplative for a moment... then cracks a grin. "Which means that absolutely no one will know when I insult them." "Beyond their range of hearing, even! Oh that'll be such an easy way to blow off steam, dear, I love it."

After a shopping trip to assemble the device that substitutes for having moth mouthparts, they have a nice time bonding over linguistics. Building the thing is tricky, but... Saelhen gets a good roll!

Looseleaf:"...Y'know, trying to reverse-engineer an instrument just from how you saw it once is... more difficult than I thought it would be." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen expertly pulls two pieces together. "This and this, yes?" Looseleaf: "Yeah, make sure you leave extra length on the tubes- I don't know exactly how long they have to be so we might have to cut them down a little to fit... The day continues. Looseleaf teaches Saelhen a whole plethora of fun insults in mothspeech. Things like, "You must have had a hole in your cocoon while you were pupating, because your brain clearly leaked out during your metamorphosis." "Remind me what instar you are again?" And, her favorite of all, a surprisingly terse noun that apparently translates to "immature child who sticks two feathers on their forehead and thinks that means they have the antennae of an adult."

Saelhen manages to nail the pronunciation pretty quickly, and adds Mothfolk to her list of languages.

The conversation turns to Elvish (Looseleaf is shocked to learn that Oyobi has been being rude this entire time!), and Saelhen's upbringing in Kanzentokai.

Looseleaf is shocked by Saelhen's quick mastery of the language- and of Tabaxi, and Halfling, which are apparently languages she speaks.

Eventually, Looseleaf decides to make a wager with Saelhen. The stakes: if Looseleaf can fool Saelhen with a card trick of her own, Saelhen has to teach her Thieves' Cant. If she loses, she'll have to tell Saelhen how she did the trick- a standard "is this your card" situation.

Saelhen gets a 21, and Looseleaf then has to explain that she was able to track the card via... spirit-linking. Which she then has to explain she's been doing to the bracer.

Looseleaf: "I'm trying to use this as a, uh, lighthearted segue, to confess to the fact that I've soooorta actually had a tracking magic thing set on you, like, since we met." "I'm hoping that's not, un- discomforting for you, since you said, you liked the whole suspicion thing I had?" "But, yeah, uh, I was totally suspicious of you the whole time, and my first response to seeing someone I pegged as a conwoman trying to con the university out of a magic item was, to, put a tracker on the magic item." "Which is that bracer. I know the position of that bracer, at all times, as long as it's within ten miles of me; further than that, and I know the direction it is relative to me." "I'm coming clean because- well, I guess, we're friends now actually, and you should know about the fact that I'm technically tracking your movements. And also because I want to give you the option to tell me to fuck off with that shit, if you want to." "I think that keeping the tracker's still a good idea, on a practical level, though, because of the, uh, use-case, where, a scary badguy chops your arm off to take the bracer, like that way we could still get your arm back and get the bracer back and I'm also rambling because I'm nervous that this is the end of our friendship aha." Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen has gone very still. Like the hackles-up bristling from earlier, except... a lot less movement. "......" Looseleaf: "Look, if you want me to turn it off I'll turn it off!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: And then she very deliberately settles back into motion, with barely even a little bit of shaking hands! Deep deep breath. "...you make a good point. "About the, bracer tracking." "I am..." "Fine, with it." Looseleaf: "Iiii am not convinced you are fine. You seem like you are in fact very emotionally distraught about it," Looseleaf says with caution. "I could... put a tracker on something that's not the bracer, for you to hold, of your own volition?" "Really, at this point, I'm less scared of you running off with the bracer, and more scared of something happening to you because of the bracer." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...with a condition." "Which is that you do not tell anyone that you can track things, or, if you have to reveal your hand, that you don't tell anyone that you can find me." Looseleaf: "...You don't want to be found, by... something or someone that wants to find you?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "In general, no." "...I'll tie something around the bracer. Or place a coin between my skin and its surface, or something. You can track that." Looseleaf: "Okay. I'll try my best to not tell anybody about my ability to find you. Except unless I have very good reason to believe that, I dunno, a dragon has abducted you and if I don't find help for you then you're dead, or something like that. Is that fine?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "That would be fine, thank you. And I forgive you for... the initial... situation."

It seems... Saelhen really doesn't want to be found, by someone. I wonder who?

Still, the two of them manage to talk the issue over like adults, and grow closer as friends- so that means everything is probably fine, there's no secrets anymore, and absolutely nothing else is going to go wrong in the town of Barley.

NEXT TIME: END OF DAYS!!! HOMICIDAL INTENT!!! THE SINISTER MACHINATIONS OF THE SHADOW-MAYOR OF WHEAT!!!

[rayegunn]

Another Thor speculation ramble

Yeah, been doing a lot of these uber geeky Thor speculation posts lately, but keep coming across stuff that makes me go hmmmm

So, was doing my occasional catchup on Twitter (I don't use it much, mainly just use it to lurk and follow what some creators are saying) and came across this: https://twitter.com/Doncates/status/1421534363192279047 and also https://twitter.com/Doncates/status/1421611974169825281 from the same thread. Intriguing!

And first of all, these tweets are vindicating, because I have been saying forever that 'worthy' doesn't mean being a pinnacle of morality and goodness, like some people seem to think it means. 'Worthy' is a neutral word and can mean different things based on context, literally anything the person dictating the terms wants it to mean, it is not synonymous with 'good'. In the context of Thor, we aren't entirely sure WHAT it means. We do know, after Aaron's run, that knowing you fall short of what's expected of being a good god, but trying to meet those expectations anyway, is at least part of it. But we don't know for sure if this 'be better' the wielder strives for is self defined or not. If self defined... yeah, it could be warped to be something bad. But that's clearly not all of it, or more people would have been able to lift it. Lots of people out there who could lift it if it was JUST that. The other requirements may not necessarily be good, or bad, but maybe something that reflects Asgardian culture, or something, we just don't know for sure. We aren't even sure any more if the worthiness qualifications are determined by Odin or the Mother Storm. This is one of the reasons that, even before the enchantment apparently broke, I thought Loki had a good chance of wielding it. Not the Loki of the past, but the current Loki is all about self improvement, and knowing he doesn't live up to expectations, but he's trying to. (not always successfully, he's got a lot of bad habits, but he's trying)

But on the subject of Loki, the second tweet is a bit ominous, for sure. And I may have to adjust some of my previous speculation, (TLDR, I think Loki is the next 'Champion', Thor's replacement, as all of Asgard shifts roles between characters, click the link for an explanation as to why) but not by a ton, really. I know some people would see that tweet, and take Loki lifting it as the 'terrifying' prospect. But it doesn't have to mean anything bad about Loki's face turn status (I really want the face turn to stick, I am invested in this direction for him), because Cates has already teased a far worse future for the hammer. I think this is more of a Thanos tease than a Loki tease.

My guess is, Loki will get the hammer, for a little while, as well as Thor's old role. But the role is not defined by being worthy of Mjolnir, it's more about the function they fill in the narrative. You can have the role without having the hammer. The Champion role predates the hammer by generations, and at least in the case of Sigurd, we know he had his own signature weapon, Gram, so it is entirely likely that Loki will get his own signature weapon as well. In fact, I would prefer this, since whacking things with a hammer really is not his style. He needs a sword, daggers, maybe a magical staff. Just something that plays to his abilities and style of doing things. It's just that the hammer has become associated with the role while Thor was in it, since he had used it as his primary weapon/worthiness gauge for most of his time in the role. But not all of it, he had Jarnbjorn in the beginning, which apparently first belonged to the valkyrie, Runa, who might have been the Champion after Sigurd, so it could make good sense for the Champion to use the weapon of a previous role holder until they get their own signature weapon. So I think in universe, the initial thought would be that the wielder of the hammer has the role, because that's how it's been for a thousand years. But they'd actually be mistaken, because the point of the great role shift is to update the roles, not just become a carbon copy of the person who was in the role before, otherwise there is not much point in the periodic shift of roles. So it makes sense that the new Champion would get a new weapon, and not just inherit Mjolnir, but I was envisioning a sort of transition period, to kind of ease everyone into things. I thought with all the Mjolnir stuff, he would get it at least for a little while, at last until he can prove himself. But... maybe not? These tweets make me less certain of the Mjolnir part, even though I do still feel Loki is getting the role, and will continue to be a good(ish) boy. It may be that Mjolnir has to be destroyed in order to prevent the bad future with Thanos, which would symbolically also make the role his own as a new weapon is created for him.

And while on the subject of Donny Cates' tweets: https://twitter.com/Doncates/status/1421898562275880960

Heh, so I guess Thor and/or Loki is going to Midgard and having a hotdog. I kinda hope together, so they can disagree and argue about best condiments. I dunno about Thor, but I do know Loki had a hot dog with Spider-Man once, and it involved 'green bits' so i presume it had relish. But lately he seems to have taken to mustard. So he appears to just go with his favourite colours.

Unrelated to the above, I had a random thought the other day, about the whole situation with Throg. It's not speculation, I have no idea if they will do something like this, it's just something i think could be fun. So, let's say Throg does end up trying to be sort of a mentor to Loki, I got to thinking that you know, Thori is probably bored as hell sitting around Asgard all day, he's a dog of action and violence, not a house dog. And he WAS Loki's dog to start with, so.... Thori could join Loki too as another animal companion. And then, I got to thinking that Thor would probably want to back seat drive, and he'd probably do that via Hugin and/or Munin, giving Loki a third animal companion. I just think it would be funny. And, of course, if this happens, at some point Loki has to shapeshift into an alligator. obviously.

Also, I realized today that next year is the 70th anniversary of Journey Into Mystery. A good time for a relaunch, no? It might be a bit later than I would personally like, I'm missing having a Loki solo story to follow in the comics, but it would seem to line up with where the solicits are going. The issue with Throg, 18, comes out in October. Then if we assume the arc where, presumably, the new status quo with the new Champion is laid out starts in issue 19, and likely goes for around 6 issues, then around March or so, they may have things set up for a JIM relaunch. Then Thor can focus on Thor, and Loki can go do his thing in JIM, and everyone wins. Again, this is not so much speculation as something I think could work, but it does seem to line up nicely.