#Got this ask just as I left my computer and I can't link the--

[bonefall]

this is based of the halloween special patrols in clangen but what would the clans think a scarecrow is? would they thinks it's a really fucked up Twoleg or a twoleg creature like how they think cars are twoleg controlled monsters

They're easily spooked by them! They can't see them unless they're at a vantage point where they can view the whole field, unlike a crow which FLIES at the farm. Clan cats approach from the ground and are small animals.

So they usually find them by bumping right into the pole. It's obvious it isn't a real human but... is it not unsettling? That humans create these... straw effigies of themselves?

A rumor would get started that it's actually a poppet, a channeling tool for forbidden magic, and it would make WindClan feel sick to its stomach. EVIL humans, of COURSE they have their own Dark Forest!!!! They probably don't even have a StarClan! Awful, fiendish beings!

WindClan is the only one that visits the fields on a normal basis though, and even then, only in times of scarcity when there are no wild grains to make into dough. They would likely avoid fields with scarecrows, if they had a choice, and if they did visit they would be more discrete than usual. Usually, they'll kill vermin as "trade," leaving crows and rats on the farm doorstep, but not if there's a scarecrow present.

Chelford Townies knew about the Clans long before science did though. So they probably caught onto it. WindClan never takes a noticeable amount of grains, and the vermin cleanup is appreciated. I'm not sure what they did to make the scarecrows less terrifying to the cats but equally terrifying to the crows, though...

I feel like adding anything shiny would just attract crows and magpies, which the the absolute opposite thing they'd want, so they wouldn't learn that through happenstance. Putting out the classic catfood and toys would just scare WindClan even more, "THEY WANT TO MAKE US INTO KITTYPETS!!!!" And the farmers deeefinitely don't know anything about their star-based culture.

So yeah, unsure. Communication issue. Maybe it can get better at the Lake where someone can go to a talk in the nearest town and approach a researcher directly. In any case I'm sure the actual staff at Windover Farm (they dont own it, the Windovers did before selling it to DevCo) in Chelford miss the cats terribly.

[normalaboutfugo]

"I can't find an ask box so I'mma just drop this here! I would love something with mafia boss GIORNO finding out his mom had another kid and pretty much goes feral to adopt them !! tyy"

𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 — 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌.

⋆₊☆ ⊂⊃ platonic yandere don!giorno || m.list

[ warning :: PLATONIC/NOT ROMANTIC, kinda kidnapping, platonic yandere ]

[ notes :: first post!! thank you @foundfamyanderes for requesting!! <3 i can't remember what happened to gio's mom but just pretend she left giorno and had reader and left them too lol ]

[ important :: see this post on another blog? likely a repost to my rebranded multi-fandom blog! don't be afraid to check, but if they're not linked w me, let me know! <33 ]

— when giogio first learns his mother went on to have another kid, he wanted to have a genuine connection, and he did everything in his power to find them. what if you weren't doing so well on your own, assuming that your mother didn't care about you, like she didn't with him? there's no way he'd let his own blood live like this, especially when he was doing so well.

— giorno did everything he could to look for you, searched the internet under the last name shiobana to find a lead, he looked for his mom's profile online, and when he found it, he saw various pictures of drinks, club floors, everything you'd expect from someone like her.

— it took a long time, quite a bit of searching through what seemed like a million pictures of your mom partying — giorno scrolled for hours and hours, ignoring the way his eyes burnt when he looked at the screen for too long.

— finally, after he thought he was starting to fall asleep from staring at the bright computer screen for forever, he found multiple pictures of selfies from his mom with the head of a child in the background; cropped out the best if could be, but still quite obvious you existed.

— it took a long time to find you, but honestly, it confused giorno. why was he so hooked on meeting you? he only found out you existed a few days ago, and you didn't even know you had a half brother.

— when giorno finally found you, he had immediately introduced himself to you — not as the don, but as your brother. he wanted to have a genuine connection with you, because he never had a sibling, and while everyone in bucciarati's gang were like family, but blood ran thicker than water.

— and upon finding out you were broke and living on pickpocketing because your mother left you? giorno spoiled the fuck out of you. when he met you, he treated you to a meal at one of the nicest places in italy because he wanted to make a good impression, but when he finds out you're not used to such good dining and being treated well?

— most definitely takes you shopping for whatever you want, turning you down when you say you'll pay him back for it.

"Here, whatever you want."

"That's...! Giorno, no, I'll pay you back as soon as I ca-"

"With money you took? Don't worry about it, there's more than enough for you to have what you wanted."

— reader goes quiet real quick

— not long after meeting him, giorno offers you a place to live. the streets got cold at night, and he would know. gratefully, you accepted it; what else could you do?

— it doesn't take long for giorno to get overbearing. he'll start putting extra locks on the doors, and when questioned, express that he just wants you to feel safer in your new home.

"..Giorno, what's with the locks on the door?"

"The locks? Oh, I wanted to make sure you felt safe, is all. Is there a problem?"

"Well.. no, I just.. don't you think it's a bit much?"

"Mm.. no, I don't think so. You can never be too sure."

— he might even give you a curfew at first

— he'll give you the reasoning that the streets of italy aren't safe at later times, which is semi-true. it really wasn't safe to be roaming around at night, especially after you start living with the boss himself; word spreads like wildfire in passione, and a bounty would be placed on your head by traitors before you know it.

— eventually, a curfew turns into him spending every second with you during your outings, and that turns into you just not being allowed to leave the house at all.

— even if he needs to pull a few strings to find a reason to keep you home, he'll do what he needs.

"The strap on your bag, it's broken."

"Oh, yes.. I noticed a bit ago, but it's no big deal."

"That's fine, we can get you a new one today. There's got to be something identical somewhere."

"Should I get ready to go out, then?"

"No, you don't need to. We can find something online, or I can go find it at the store we bought it from."

"..Oh. Why?"

"I don't want you going out."

— when you bring up your concerns to him about not being allowed to leave, he takes it really well, as if he'd just up and abandoned his previous reasons for you being kept inside. and after that, you go to bed that night with relief, sleeping easily knowing that it's going to change.

— except for in the morning, when you're leaving the room, you turn the doorknob only to realize you were locked in from the outside. on the nearest table is a notepad, next to a plate of food and a cup of water. written in red ink,

"[READER],

It's wrong to lock you up, but I can't bring myself to put you in danger and allow you to leave. But I can also promise it's only temporary, I want you to be happy here. I had some business with the famiglia, so I left home quite early this morning. I will return, but while I'm not there, I left food and a glass of water next to this note. I'll be seeing you soon.

— Giorno

[literaila]

a virus 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: 

“did you try turning it off and then back on?” 

“three times.” 

warnings: peter is an asshole, reader is an asshole (a great paring i assure you)

a/n: this was a work in progress. and now it is out on the internet. because i need storage and you need some of my sarcastic comments 

*

in all fairness, you were a little bit stressed. 

and by a little bit stressed—depending on a paper for 30% of your grade without any internet. 

or a computer that worked. 

and of course, the lack of any manners. 

"did you try turning it off and then back on?" 

if you were going to try anything it would be banging your head against your desk until you properly erased any record of your existence.

"three times." 

the man--who by the way, left you on hold for five minutes--hums. "what'd you say you were doing?" 

"trying to write a research paper." 

"on sketchy websites?" 

you take a deep breath. you try and avoid yelling at this man through the microphone. “from a bunch of google approved websites,” you say, voice tight. “what can i do to get it working?” 

“it sounds like you have a virus.” 

“great," you drawl because this conclusion had not occurred to you. "what do i do?” 

the man is silent for about thirty seconds, and then: 

“i can get you an appointment to bring your computer in sometime in the next week.” 

“what can i do to get it working tonight?” 

there’s a quick huff of air. “do you know how to code?” 

“are you serious?” 

“that was rhetorical.” 

if this man didn’t sound completely nonchalant, about the age of a fifty-year-old—meaning your age—and had any more attitude than he does, you would hang up. 

if your paper wasn’t due tomorrow, you would hang up. 

“i need my computer tonight.” 

“you could try walmart.”

“aren’t you supposed to be helpful?” 

the man laughs like this is funny. “sorry, i’m a bit out of practice. most people don't click on the link a random ‘banker’ sends them.” 

“i didn’t click on anything.” 

“you have a virus.”

“i’m really bad with computers. i’m pretty sure i’m incapable of clicking anything.” 

“apparently not.” 

“can't you do anything? you’re smart.” 

“you assume that because i got this job that i’m smart?” 

“okay. you’re supposed to know what to do.” 

“i could fix it,” this man says, “if i was there.” 

he also hates you.

“okay, great. just tell me what to do.” 

“i already asked if you knew how to code…” 

you groan and fall over in your seat. 

he laughs again. “you could ask for an extension.” 

“an extension,” you repeat because you obviously haven't thought of that. 

you obviously don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. 

“for whatever you’re working on.” 

“because that’s how life works. are you going to ask for an extension to fix my computer?” 

“im just saying.” 

“no. i already got the extension.” 

“you already got the extension?”

this man thinks you’re an idiot. 

he’s also got a very nice voice. 

“there were some… personal problems. my professor was nice enough to make an exception.” 

“but not nice enough to do it twice?” 

“it feels wrong to ask.” 

“did it feel wrong to put it off until tonight?” 

you pause. looking for an argument that isn’t there. “you need to work on your customer service.” 

he laughs. “so i’ve been told.” 

and you stop. 

you think about all of the possible solutions to this problem. 

and the man who you have subjected to your irresponsibility. 

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing that he can hear. “i’m being rude. i’m just stressed.” 

“it’s okay. you’d be surprised how many people yell at me each night.”

“i don’t think i would." 

he laughs. his voice is smooth and warm. a bed to fall into and sleep until eternity. “what’re you working on, again?“

“a research paper.” 

“is it done? are you just editing? because there are libraries open all night.” 

“no. i thought it was, but there’s a… it doesn’t matter. and it's cold.” 

“you have more research to do?” 

“yeah.”

“is it a lot?” 

“no,” you say. “not really.” 

there’s a brief pause. 

he might’ve hung up already. 

but then the man whispers, “okay.”

you wait. 

“what should i look up?”

*

"wikipedia." 

"just click on it." 

"this is how you got the virus." 

you sigh again, fingers tapping restlessly on your desk. 

you've been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, waiting for this boy to listen to you. 

he hasn't, of course. it turns out that you both share the lack of social ability. because you can't seem to be nice to him, and in return, he understands none of this. 

but he's pleasent enough. he laughs at your absurdity instead of mocking it. 

and you've already thanked him more than once. 

"i wouldn't have a virus if someone was better at his job--" 

"--that's a strange thing to say to someone helping you--" 

"now, will you just read me the quote?" 

"you're stressed about a research paper in which you're using wikipedia as one of your sources?" 

"i'm stressed about failing out of college." 

"that's not really how it works," the boy says because he's infuriating. 

but also nice. because he's been sitting here arguing with you and still hasn't hung up. 

even when you threatened to steal his computer. 

nonetheless. 

"i know how it works. what does it say?" 

"it says 'find another source.'" 

you are silent. you type a million curse words into the text on your phone. swear to whatever god is laughing at you right now that you will get them back. 

swear that you're going to go to bed right now and face the actual consequences of procrastination. 

or you'll fake your death. either way. 

"i'm not going to help you bomb an essay," the boy scoffs. "i'm gonna go look at the websites linked." 

"or you could just do what i say." 

"who's the one with the computer here?" 

"...what does it say?" 

*

"i disagree." 

"you disagree on the undeniable brilliance of footloose?" 

you spin around in your chair, smile slightly unnerving. "i disagree that you have good opinions." 

"says she who has broken her computer." 

this boy has a warm voice. he has a slightly teasing tone, even when he's attempting to be serious. and in the short time that you've known him, you've already picked up on the sardonic voice. different from his sarcasm. 

"the internet broke my computer." 

"the internet is a very noble place. it would never. now, scammers on the other hand..." 

"i understood about three percent of what you just said." 

he laughs, microphone muffled as something moves in the background. "okay, so you hate good movies. noted. what do you think about good tv shows?" 

"like what?" 

"um," he pauses. "friends." 

"i really hope you didn't just say that to me." 

"there's a reason that it's popular." 

"that reason would be conventional attractiveness combined with stupidity." 

"or that it's really good." 

"you know, i know a really good doctor. he can help you." 

any research paper that you may or may not have almost finished is forgotten. 

instead, you've been talking to this boy--the boy who refused to help you fix your computer and instead has monopolized this conversation completely--for the last hour. 

about movies and school and winter break. leaving and never coming back. 

anything, really. 

he is surprisingly easy to talk to. easy to laugh at. 

and, of course, you're completely delirious because it's four am and you have a paper due in the morning. but, at this current moment, it doesn't seem to matter. 

you want coffee. 

"maybe you should give him a call," this boy says. "not for me. just... to chat." 

"i am very mentally stable," you say, thank you very much. 

"you threatened me earlier." 

"an un-rare occasion, i'm sure." 

the boy laughs because there's something funny about that. "i'm very likable." he mocks your tone. 

"again with the opinions..." 

"i can't just not share them." 

"you can actually. you really can." 

and you, apparently, can't hang up. 

*

"no." 

"wow. and i thought we were getting close." 

"as usual, you're wrong." 

he laughs. "this is ironic, coming from you." 

"i'm hanging up." 

"you still need to finish your research." 

you scoff, throwing another piece of paper at the wall. 

it's not a waste, merely art. 

"i just have to finish the citation. easy." 

"that is definitively the hardest part." 

"maybe for you, tech guy."

he laughs again, softer this time. 

you've both gotten quieter. laughter is a mere whistle in the wind. 

and your throat is a bit sore. 

you've been talking to this man for four hours.

"how long are you supposed to be on the line?" 

"it's available until two in the morning." 

"it's almost six." 

"yeah." 

"you've just been sitting here talking to me?" 

"well, it's not really worth it to go to bed anymore." 

"yeah." 

something lingers. 

"i'm peter, by the way." 

peter, you think. you wonder nothing about him. you think nothing of the name. 

you think about walking around campus until you accidentally run into someone. 

"y/n," you say. 

he echoes your name back to you. 

*

part two

my masterlist here.

tags:   @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon   @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff​

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

aren't we lucky to live in a time in which technology is so easy to use and convenient for connecting us with friends? an old friend of mine died suddenly and I was the only one of the friendgroup able to make it down in time for the service (because I left work and started driving immediately after the news) but I promised my grieving out of state friends I'd discord video call them so they could view the service, since we were all on a discord channel together. at the service I mentioned this to the father of my friend and he asked if I could also send him the video. I couldn't figure out how to start a call on discord because unlike on desktop there's no button to press on mobile, my friends kept telling me to press the audio record button, which only makes an audio recording. ok, well, I wanted to save a video for friend's dad anyway, so I'll just record a video and share it with everyone later, I apologize to my friends waiting in the chat who thought they would be able to view the service with us. I record the service feeling bad about that but hey this is something. it's long and the file is big so of course I can't just send it in the chat. Can I email it to friend's dad? no. It doesn't even give me the option to share as google drive link. I try to upload it to drive manually. it's telling me I don't have enough space and I need to upgrade to their subscription service. I delete several old videos from drive and try again. it still says there's no space. I upload it as an unlisted video on youtube (so it's not public but anyone with a link can view it). this takes literal days to finish uploading but finally it's there. at last, I've fulfilled my duty, at least a little bit. I send everyone the links as I'm getting on a plane to go back to work, extremely emotionally and physically exhausted. when I look at my messages later they're asking me to un-private the video so they can watch it. that's weird, it wasn't private in the first place? I go look at it. ah I see. It's blocked because there were copyrighted songs played at the funeral. maybe I can upload it to facebook? but I don't have facebook on my phone for a variety of reasons (don't use it, also it's got an unusually high amount of tracking and weird data stuff associated with the app even for how bad apps usually are) so I need to get the file on my computer. plug my phone in with transfer cable. the prompt to file share does not show up to initiate file sharing. wait, I can access youtube on my computer, can I download the video that way? yes I can. will facebook block it too? how long will it take to upload there? am I doomed to fail my promises again and again? I thought I was lucky in being able to be at the funeral and that this would give me closure but it's dragging after me like an albatross. my friend's dad just texted me could I Please share the video with him because he wants to watch it. believe me man I'm trying

I start the download and start typing this post in frustration. i finish the first paragraph and check on the download. download failed. I click retry. I type some more. I check on the download. download failed. retry. download faile.d retry. download failed. I am literally keeping track of how many times this happens. I'm not exaggerating. wow it kept downloading for a while that time--download failed. retry. download failed. retry. did I mention I have covid right now, possibly from traveling to the funeral, and I'm out of breath and almost lightheaded from walking up stairs, so I can only imagine the breathing issues that have been getting progressively worse with every infection are going to make it even harder for me to exist the way I want to after this. download failed, retry. is there not enough space on my computer? I cleared up space recently, and shouldn't it tell me if that's the issue? I have a hard drive I could get out it necessary, but I don't really want to save this albatross, I want to get it out somewhere the people I promised to share it with can see it and forget about it for a while. it only needs to be on my computer long enough to upload to facebook. download failed. retry. when do I know I should give up on this? download failed. retry. this is becoming a metaphor for grief now and I resent it. it says the download will be complete in 28 seconds. maybe this time? it's said 28 seconds for a while. download failed. opening in 32 seconds. 19 seconds. fuck it's stuck on 4. so near and yet so far. yep. download failed. 6 seconds. holy shit I've got it. it's on my computer. I open up facebook on my devoted 'shitty websites container' browser (chrome, I also leave my amazon account logged in on there in case I'll rarely need something) and try to upload. loading. There's no time estimate even. just a 'posting' spinning loading circle. I'm terrified I'll accidentally close the window and have to start over before it's done. I don't know if my discord friends have facebook. can I silence the audio on the parts of the video so I can share it unlisted on youtube? I'd have to do some in depth video editing of a kind I've never done before, though I have done some basic video editing in the past--years ago--so maybe I could figure it out. this is a week past the funeral at this point. it just keeps going.

posting . . .

[helvonasche]

i quit?

Update: Privated all my fics, deleted everything from AO3. If you want a copy of anything, let me know, but I'm gonna be real picky about who I give copies of anything to.

Now that I've got your attention: I'm quitting fanfic, not writing.

Not deleting my blog or AO3, either, and I'll still be here.

Most of my stories will be staying right where they currently are. I've deleted any posts that are too personal, and this includes a couple fics. If you notice something is missing or a link has broken, please let me know so I can fix it. I still have copies of everything.

So don't be a cuck and ruin this for everyone else. I want to leave this up because I've had my heart broken by writers deleting everything, but I also understand that impulse.

If not writing fics then what? Books.

The reason I started writing fics in the first place was to practice writing and hopefully get better. But at some point I do have to walk away. I'm still gonna be on Tumblr though. And if you wanna ask about book stuff.. do it?

Emotions and reasons below the cut, but that's it. I'm done posting fics, but still vaguely here.

Ugh. Feelings. Fine.

Basically, I've spent most of a year trying to finish the fics I had left and I can't do it. I've sat at the computer for hours, made and remade plans, tried everything I could find for writer's block, drove my friends fucking nuts, had panic attacks... fuck, dude, I've talked to a fucking therapist about it.. and I barely finished Of The Abyss.

I also just had a fucking shitty year. It nearly killed me, not being melodramatic or using hyperbole. I thought I'd lost everything on three separate occasions in only 8 months. It's changed my perspective on a lot of things, but mostly on how I spend my time.

As terrifying as it is to walk away from the vague comfort that is posting fics on Tumblr, the reason I write has also changed.

But the reason I struggled with quitting fics and have tried to keep posting is because I love this stupid place. Don't get me wrong, the bots and staff suck and some people too, but there's so much good here and I will miss that more than.. fuck. There really aren't words for this. Um.. I'm devastated and crying while writing this? It fucking sucks.

I've made friends here. Real ones. Not going to tag, but you know who you are. You have my address. You know my real name. You've probably spoken on the phone to me. And a very very few have met me. Even the people I don't talk to for any number of reasons (mostly because I can be a shitty friend), you're all wonderful and gave me hope that life isn't as awful as it seemed.

You saved me.

Thank you for giving a creep a chance.

And before anyone can ask or point out that I've been struggling with writing... I have been writing. Just not fanfic.

There's more I want to say, but I'm calling it. Going to stop crying and eat something, then write a book.

<3 hel.

[yogs21134]

kind stranger on the internet, if u have the time and it is no inconvenience, a tutorial on how to make the yog world work would be amazing and immensely appreciated T^T

absolutely no problem! i'm here to serve :) i'm gonna explain this with the assumption you have no idea what you're doing, just so it's thorough.

so, first thing's first, go to the ATLauncher downloads page choose one of the options that's under your operating system (windows, mac, linux) then run the program it gives you. (if it's a setup version, you'll have some stuff to click through but that's pretty easy)

once you've got ATLauncher up and running, you'll want to log in with your minecraft/microsoft account (unsure if it makes you do that at first startup anymore but if it doesn't, it'll be in the Accounts tab) then head over to the Packs tab on the right

go to the search bar and look for Yogscast Complete Pack, it'll be the one with the blue and orange icon, then hit New Instance and Install. it'll come up with a bunch of optional mods, but i personally just select everything except the minimaps and morph

once that's done installing (it might take a while) go over to the Instances tab, and it'll be there. you'll want to mess with it a little bit before opening it, though. there's be a bunch of buttons under the description and that's we're gonna be

you'll definitely want to give it more memory/ram by going to Settings > Java/Minecraft and messing with the very first option. the number you'll want to set it to depends on how beefy your computer is, so make sure you know how much ram it has

after that you'll want to hit Edit Mods and disable Flatsigns, Obsidiplates, and Switches, as the launcher doesn't like to allow them to run anymore

if everything goes right, you'll be ready to import the world save. go to the download link in my (currently) pinned post, save that wherever, and since it's a rar file you may need to have 7zip or winrar to open it but i'm unsure. i personally use 7zip

go back to the ATLauncher and hit Open Folder, that'll open your instance in your file explorer. open the saves folder (or make one if you don't have one yet, 'saves' all lowercase) and extract your world(1).rar into there. you should be left with a folder simply called "world"

go ahead and run the pack and see if everything works! i have noticed a few other errors that come up, so:

if it's giving you an error along the lines of "two dimensions have the same id," try heading to the config folder (same directory as the saves) and find TwilightForest, open that and scroll down until you see # dimension, then change the number from 7 to 250 (or whatever else works)

if it's giving you an error along the lines of "can't connect to [whatever ip/url]" try editing the config of OpenBlocks and removing all radio stations

if it's something else entirely, try re-running/brute forcing it a couple times then come back and i'll see if i can figure it out i hope this helps you and anyone else that happens to need it!! don't hesitate to ask for clarification on anything :)

[hidden-clue]

more nitpicks over The Seven Keys (mild spoilers, mentions of getting stuck):

When a puzzle annoys me or exhausts my mental capabilities, I need to be able to walk away, play a mini game, cool off, annoy some characters, then come back and work on it with a fresh outlook on the world. Except in this game when I try, the doors are LOCKED, I am TRAPPED with an impossible PUZZLE that won't let me WALK AWAY the crystal puzzle got to me okay that wasn't good for my self esteem

I got STUCK for HOURS because in the real life, when you get a piece of paper, with a handwritten web address on it, you can't just click on it, because it's HANDWRITTEN. on a PAPER. you can't hand me a LINK on a piece of paper. So HOW was I to understand that if I click on a piece of paper, it would open a website on my phone?? On what grounds? I was looking for a freaking computer, trying to steal the one someone left in the cafe trying to reach this freaking website because my phone didn't even offer a browser or any browsing options (which, it would have been so helpful if it had!) because there was no indication my phone could even open a web address, there was certainly no way to open any kind of browser or internet app. There were no signs!!!! I thought the game was bugged!!!

they won't let me CALL PEOPLE WHEN I WANT. All phone calls are timed! Even text messages! Even NED won't pick up unless it's important for the plot in that moment for me to have a conversation with him! Also I assume they couldn't get the voice for Carson in the game even though he was necessary for the plot so they play it like he's too busy to talk to Nancy but not to busy to relay all messages trough Ned which is difficult to believe, just have him TEXT NANCY. And let me call my friends at me leisure!!! Maybe I wanna chat about my day!!! Maybe I wanna ask them what they're up to! If I want to make a call I don't want to hear Nancy say 'it's not the right time' IT'S THE RIGHT TIME WHEN I SAY SO

since I'm complaining about calls and texts, they're triggered by absolutely nonsensical triggers. For example, you can't get Ned to text you back until you pick up the alchemy book in the cafe. The game can't progress until you do get that text, but you won't, unless you know specifically to go to the cafe, browse all of the bookcases which there are many of, and pick up inconspicious brown book.  Is this Stay Tuned For Danger again? I thought we learned this lesson before? Don't make the triggers ridiculous so people don't get stuck forever without understanding what they did wrong? Everyone is referencing STFD too, it's like they went back to that game and decided 'we need more like this'. The game at one point tells you to grab a laptop charger, and then if you haven't talked to the repair-shop owner, you can't pick up the charger from the cafe. On what logic? How would you know thats what you need to do in order to extend your hand a grab a physical object in front of you? It's nonsense.

I am in love with the environment, so much so that I explored every nook and cranny, every detail, and the copy-pasting of elements is killing me. I was so damn excited to enter the puppet repair shop and see all of the old-timey radios, tape recorders, video recorders, telephones, until I realized they copied each one of them about 3-4 times, and it's not even like they're next to each other like they're being sold, they're scattered to make clutter. And okay fne I would forgive them that. But THEN they also copied all of the tools from that shop, directly into the Marionette Theater, which, why would all that be there? Identical tool board but apparently Radek doesn't fix those dolls. Why does he have a saw? And then, as if this wasn't an insult enough, there was an identical SAW in the EXHIBIT. How do you expect me to suspend my disbelief there HER interactive? You couldn't find a way to create different clutter so you put a copy of the SAW in the CASTLE EXHIBIT? It didn't even belong there it was just there to make clutter! I am literally trying to figure out if this is something that has plot reasons or it was just randomly done with no thought to it, just for visual clutter reasons. My love of exploring has come back to hurt me.

[hot-take-tournament]

ngl kind of breaks my heart to see you used one of those ai bot things after the entire vocaloid debate. i really don't like that you did that and i'm a little disappointed. can you please not do that again?

I know - I do need to address this before anything else, because I fucked up

Please read the whole thing

If any of you don't know the context of this ask;

Basically, a while back I used the program AI Dungeon to generate a hot take for fun;

That's the program they use for those chaotic AI videos you find on youtube, like the ai ace attorney clown case and the sonic destruction scripts, which has some absolutely wild moments like these

I just put in a couple one-sentence questions to see what it would give me, not really expecting anything. But the take it did finally give me was not only completely depraved, but also felt like such a weirdly personal attack on me specifically that it left me genuinely speechless.

So, even though I didn't originally intend to do this, I decided to secretly make a poll for it claiming it was a submission, because I thought it might be fun to see if you guys could guess which one of the polls was the fake one, Blade Runner style.

I generated the take on the same day that submissions originally closed, but I only came clean about it last night because I started to feel super guilty about it after reading the vocaloid discourse - but the way I did it was vague, shitty and insincere.

I know it was 4 in the morning and I said I was going to get some sleep when I made the post last night, but after I saw the asks I immediately got about that post - like this one - I instead deleted it after like 2 minutes and spent the next 4-5 hours scouring the internet for as much information about this as I could find so I could get the full picture. This isn't the first time I fucked up on this blog because I didn't do my research, so I think I massively overcompensated - I really didn't want a repeat of that time the master post accidentally triggered multiple people's OCD; I still feel awful about that.

And as a result, I ended up passing out on my bathroom floor, which is why you haven't heard from me in a while.

I did genuinely read all the vocaloid discourse (asks, replies, notes, all of it) - but since I pulled this stunt ages ago, and the secret poll is already up, it was already too late. And it was because of that vocaloid discourse that I felt like it would just make me a hypocrite if I just swept it under the rug and kept quiet while everyone else was talking about the exact same subject, so I decided to just tell you guys as soon as possible because I'd feel shitty if I didn't - but I still phrased that post in a more light-hearted way because that was what I originally intended this whole thing to be, which was definitely a mistake, and I can't apologise enough for that.

And I know I didn't clarify this in that original post, but like I said, the program I used was AI Dungeon, which was something I remembered having fun with back in 2019/2020, spending hours generating unhinged Ace Attorney cases; and I remembered I still had an account from back then when it was still free to play, even though I hadn't touched it in 4 years - and I realised I would still be able to bypass the paywall using it.

I'd also just watched those snapcube Sonic Destruction videos that I linked above and it reminded me of that. And I dug up those old AI Dungeon Ace Attorney cases that I had generated and then recreated in objection i.o. back when I was 17/18, and had been sitting on my old computer's hard drive for ever since - and they still made me smile a little. So that's how I got the impulse to do this.

And that's also why, even though I knew about the writer's strike and do fully support it, it just didn't occur to me that the AI that gave us that same insane Sonic Destruction script that I'd just watched would be one of the programs the writers were striking over - I just assumed that it was only programs like ChatGPT, that can produce coherent scripts based on the accumulated information users feed into it; because those are programs that could definitely potentially be used to replace human writers. That's something AI Dungeon can't do, because it doesn't retain user input after you shut it down.

So I just saw AI Dungeon as that goofy ass confused AI that I loved as a kid, the one that provides insanely weird responses out of the blue as it desperately tries to cobble together a narrative, and it was used in videos that I still really like. And I thought it would be fine.

That was how I justified it at the time - but in hindsight, given how much I hate other GPT programs like ChatGPT, as well as AI art and all other generated content overall, it just makes me even more of a stupid hypocrite for making an exception for this one simply because I was blinded by nostalgia, and not bothering to look it up back then like I should've done. Because at the end of the day, a GPT program is a GPT program.

SO - Here's what I found online while reading up on it last night:

Because of the outdated GPT model AI Dungeon runs on, it isn't possible from a technical standpoint for it to learn like ChatGPT does. Even though it still uses a dataset, as far as I can tell it genuinely can't add to that dataset from user input except for when it explicitly asks for feedback (rarely, it will generate two responses instead of one, and ask you to pick the best one so it can learn - but you can turn that feature off.) And while it does try to learn while you're using it, it can't carry that information over between sessions. So even if you reload the same page again, it won't retain what it learned last time.

(Here's some information I found while combing ancient reddit threads that explains this better than I can)

But even if all of that is true, it doesn't matter.

Latitude, the developers of AI Dungeon, are super fucking scummy, and you shouldn't support them.

If you want to look up all of the many, many controversies surrounding AI Dungeon, you can - but I won't link them here, because serious content warnings apply.

Do not use this program.

I really hope the anon who sent this ask - and everyone else who called me out on this - stuck around, because I am so, so grateful that you all sent these, otherwise I probably would never have known.

I deleted the post almost instantly (because like I said, it was too light-hearted), and I'm really glad I did. And I swear I won't pull this shit again.

I know a lot of you hate the fact that I did this - that original post genuinely got me blocked by more of you guys than every single one of the polls combined - which is totally fair, and I wouldn't blame any of you for doing the same now.

I really just want to move on from this - but I can't just pretend that it didn't happen.

Support the writer's strike, don't use any AI programs.

I'm really sorry about this, and the fact that I didn't take it seriously enough - like I said, I promise it won't happen again.

</3

[longlivefeedback]

Commenting 101

Lesson 3: Quote. Or paraphrase

Sorry about going MIA last weekend, but I'm back with Lesson 3 💪 But before we get into it, how are we doing with describing the indescribable and commenting in general?

Alright. So let's talk about quoting bits of the fics and commenting on them in a comment. Personally, it's one of my favourite ways to comment because I find it easier to focus on a specific thing/sentence/paragraph/turn of phrase that I really like and gush about it to an author. By doing this, I can also focus on the bits of the story that I really really liked, and not worry about the parts that I didn't like so much. Win-win for everyone!

The one downside of this particular commenting technique is that it does take a relatively high amount of effort and is not as easy as a keyboard smash or entering a bunch of smileys and a catchphrase into the comment box. But hey. Some fics are worth it :)

So, here are some tips on how to quote while commenting:

Keep 2 tabs open.

Use a third party browser script that gives you a floating review box.

Paraphrase.

1. Keep 2 tabs open

Easier on a computer, but I've done it on mobile before. This is literally having two tabs open to the same chapter/fic as I read. When I get to a sentence or phrase that I really like, I'll copy it from my reading tab and paste it into my second tab which has the comment box open.

Sometimes I'll notate what I am thinking in the moment for that quote, and sometimes I'll leave it for the end and experience all the bits I loved again 😍. My comment at the end usually looks something like this:

"Sentence I really like" ~~ I really love how you described this character!

Everything from "Start of a paragraph/section..." to "...end of paragraph/section" is giving me life!!

"Paragraph I really like" ~~ This was perfection and made me cry 😭

and so on and so forth.

It's nice when I notate as I go, because when I'm done reading, I've got quite the comment already written and I usually just round off the comment with a catchphrase like "This was all wonderful! Thank you for writing and sharing!" and hit post, easy-peasy.

2. Use a third party browser script that gives you a floating review box.

This is not something I personally use, but the people who do have really loved it and I love the concept of it so here it is for you to try and see if it works for you!

There are a couple of scripts:

AO3 Floating Comment Box by ScriptMouse. This is a script to create a floating comment box at the bottom of the page for works on AO3. Box will be closed by default, and can be open/closed using the button in the top left corner of the window. Thanks to @memorizingthedigitsofpi for the link!

AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks Tampermonkey script by @ravenel. Click on the link to take you to the original post describing the tool and here's a follow up tutorial post by @bourbon-ontherocks on how to install the script. Credits to @altschmerzes and @castillon02 for the links!

I think these are only for browser on computers (so no mobile?) but please feel free to correct me in the notes if anyone knows.

3. Paraphrase

Let's be real. While Tips 1 and 2 are really just giving you tools to make commenting easier, when it gets down to it, commenting really requires you to, well, comment on something.

So what to do if you forgot to take notes as you read, didn't feel like doing it as you were reading, or found it just too hard to wrangle on mobile?

Paraphrase.

Just refer back to that one thing that caught your attention ala:

"I really love how you described this character in that part!"

"That part where you wrote about that thing that happened to that character is giving me life!!"

"That part where you that happened was perfection and made me cry 😭"

Yes, this does require you to remember and be able to point out and talk about certain parts of the fic. It can be a lot to remember particularly if it's a long chapter. So, as I've stressed in previous lessons, don't let it paralyze you. Just pick one thing you can remember and have the ability to comment on.

Remember:

Just quoting and commenting on one thing is better than nothing.

When you cannot quote, paraphrase!

And as always, when in doubt, comment your catchphrase.

If you want more help constructing a comment or validation that you're writing good comments, please send in an ask or submit a screenshot!

Lessons masterpost.

[elliespuns]

How can I start modding?!

To mod, you need to own the computer version of the game. Most importantly, the original Steam version (otherwise it won't work). 

Once you have this set, you just go to Nexus and download the Tlou debug dev menu mod by Goghor (link here).

The installation is a bit tricky. If you have never installed mods in any game before, I recommend to ask someone who has experience. If you want to try it on your own, I advise you to download Vortex (which should be on the Nexus page) and install it via this utility. 

When you finish installing Vortex, make sure to connect the game to it. It should be easy, but if you don't know how to do it, I'm sure there are a lot of tutorials on the internet. It's necessary to connect the game to it before doing anything else.

Then, when you're done connecting the game, go to the link I attached, and on the right, you'll see an icon called "vortex." Once you click on it, it should install the mod right into the game without you having to deal with it manually. This is perfect for beginners; this way you can be sure you're doing it right.

Then, after all this is done, the real fun begins. I'm not even shitting you when I say I spent over 5 hours figuring out how to work with the freakin' mod. I couldn't find out how to turn on the free roam camera, and it was driving me crazy.

So, just in case you went through all the previous steps and got the mod into the game, here's a little help on how to work with the dev menu!

Once the game launches and you're in the main menu, you need to open the dev menu to activate the mod. To do it, you need to press [CTRL] + [~]. When the little window in the left corner pops up, don't bother with the "camera" option. It doesn't work. To use the free roam cam, you have to go to "display" and press [1] - the one above Q and tab. This should open a quick menu. From here, you just go to "manual camera" and you're good to go.

This is what it should look like before you press [1] and the manual camera option shows up.

I'm from Europe, and the keys work just fine for me. But I heard some people have trouble opening the dev menu with the keys mentioned. For those who can't use the [CTRL] + [~] option, try [CTRL] + [ ' ] to open it.

If you don't know where to find the [~] button, it's under the ESC key on your keyboard. The [ ' ] is basically the apostrophe you use in English grammar.

Also, when ready to mod, I highly recommend connecting a controller, because the manipulation with the camera is pretty sketchy, and unless you want to fall into mild rage, this is the easier way.

I wish you the best because I almost lost my fucking mind learning to work with this, lmao. So good luck!

[spnhunter4life]

Bullets and Ballgowns Chapter 2

Series Summary: In the summer of 1813, the arrival of a new family in Brighton causes much excitement for the townsfolk. Anna Foster is shocked to realize she has already met the elder of the two sons, Dean. As she gets to know the family better, she must fight her feelings for him. Though she finds herself drawn to him, it is impossible that they could ever be together.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Sorry about the long wait for this! I had a fire in my house a month ago. As you can imagine, life got crazy and in the free time I've had I just wasn't motivated to write. I'm finally getting this chapter out there though! I really can't say how long it will be before chapter 3 comes out, but just know that I fully intend on continuing this. Thanks for the patience and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

(header picture here eventually. was on my other computer, so I have to figure out how to get it back)

Two days passed before Anna saw the Winchesters again. Her family and Charlotte’s sat together in the park. Their parents sat together in the shade provided from the tent they had set up. Charlotte and Anna preferred the corner of the blanket, out of the shade where they could feel the warmth of the sun. Between them and their parents a picnic basket full of grapes, biscuits, bread, butter, and jam was laid out, as well as tea.

They were not the only families taking advantage of the beautiful weather. Tents were set up all around them and small groups promenaded together down the cobbled path around the small pond. The two girls had just decided to join them, thinking a bit of exercise would do them good, when the Winchester family arrived.

“We must go now,” Anna informed her friend. “If we have not left before my mother or Mrs. Winchester are aware of each other’s presence here, we shall not be allowed to leave at all.”

“You do not wish to speak to them?” Charlotte asked, but she was already complying with Anna’s request to hurry.

“I would be happy to speak to them, but I daresay there will be plenty of time for that today and I truly do wish to walk for a while.”

They reached the path and linked their arms together, settling into a leisurely pace.

“You never did tell me the story of your first meeting with Mr. Winchester,” Charlotte prompted. Anna looked away from her friend as she deliberated where to begin. “Oh, come now,” Charlotte insisted, mistaking her silence for refusal. “I’m sure it is not so dreadful as you believe it to be.”

“I assure you it is,” Anna disagreed. “Nevertheless, I did promise to tell you. So here it is.”

~~~~~

The sun was setting in the sky when Anna stepped out of the theater. If she wanted to be back to her aunt’s house before dark, she needed to hurry. It had been her aunt’s only demand when she gave her permission to attend a performance by Maria Dickons, something she would not have allowed at all had she known Anna’s claims of meeting a new acquaintance there were false. Anna felt bad for lying to her aunt, but not bad enough to persuade her not to do it. She dearly loved music and could not pass up the opportunity to see an incredible performer like Mrs. Dickons for herself. Her aunt’s house was a mere six blocks away, but she was feeling slightly unsteady on her feet due to a slight overindulgence in wine.

As she walked down the steps, she saw the man who had made her uncomfortable with his close watch on her all evening exiting the building behind her. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he said.

She ignored him. With so many people around it was easy enough to pretend not to hear him or to assume he was speaking to someone else. Undeterred by this, he hurried to move in front of her.

“Miss,” he tried again now that he knew he had her attention.

“I’m sorry, but I really must be going. I am to meet a friend, and he will not be happy if I’m late,” she lied. She scanned the faces of the people passing by, wondering if any noticed her distress. They didn’t seem to.

“Yes, of course, but-”

“Oh, there you are!” Anna cried out happily. She spotted a young, friendly looking gentleman standing by himself and hurried over, praying that he would play along. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long. I was held up by this gentleman here,” she said, indicating the man who had followed close behind. The stranger seemed to catch her meaning and immediately jumped to her rescue.

“Not long at all,” he assured her, moving to face her in a way that placed himself between her and the other man. “I hope the performance was as delightful as you anticipated.” 

The man who had followed her out seemed to take this as a sign that he was unwelcome and left with a huff. Anna let out a relieved breath.

“Thank you for that. I do not know who he was, but he was scaring me a little.”

“No thanks necessary,” the gentleman assured her. Looking closer now that she was safe, she realized how incredibly handsome he was. “That sort of behavior is inexcusable. A lady should never have to fear for her safety.”

“I should like to thank you just the same. I do not know what I would have done if you were not here.”

“Surely there must be someone with you who would have helped.”

“I’m afraid not,” she admitted. “I am visiting my aunt you see, and I simply could not miss the chance to hear Mrs. Dickons. I told her I was meeting a new acquaintance, but I do not know anyone here in London.” She knew she ought not to be telling him these things, but the alcohol loosened her tongue and she found she felt quite easy around the man who had been her means of rescue.

“Then you must allow me to escort you home. I would not want to help you avoid the unwanted attention of one man only for you to fall prey to another later tonight.”

“I wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

“Ensuring a lady’s safety is no trouble at all.”

“Alright. I suppose I would appreciate the company.”

The walk home was quite pleasant. Anna and her escort spoke of nothing of consequence, but she was delighted to learn that he was happy to discuss this evening’s performance with her. She quite enjoyed hearing his opinions, even the ones she did not agree with. Before she knew it, they were a few doors down from her aunt’s house.

“We are nearly there. I should bid you goodbye here, lest my aunt see us out the window and think something scandalous has happened. I thank you for the company.”

“I thank you for your company as well. It is not often I have such a lively conversation with a beautiful young lady.”

Anna knew she should take her leave of him then, but a strange impulse struck her that she found she could not ignore. With alcohol fueling her bravery, she kissed him swiftly on the mouth before turning and darting towards the house.

~~~~~

“Well… I must admit I am shocked,” Charlotte said when Anna had finished telling the story. Anna felt a curl of fear in her gut that her friend might think less of her. She knew it was no less than she deserved. “But I still believe it is not so bad a situation.”

Anna turned her head to Charlotte, wondering if perhaps she heard wrong.

“After all, you did say he did not seem to recognize you at your parents’ ball the other night, did you not?”

“I did,” Anna agreed warily. “But, Charlotte-”

“Then I see no reason you need fear for your reputation. You know how gentlemen are, even the kind ones like Mr. Winchester. It was no doubt far from his first kiss and therefore, I’m sorry to say it, not particularly memorable to him. You can go on as if you had never set eyes on him before two nights ago. All will be well, I’m sure of it.”

Anna considered her friend’s words for several long moments. “But what of you?” She finally found the courage to ask. “You must have lowered your opinion of me now. I cannot blame you for it.” She could not bear the thought, but knew she must learn to. Actions had consequences after all, and this would be one of them. Or the only one, it seemed. She should consider herself lucky for that.

“Indeed, I have not.” The fierceness of Charlotte’s words surprised Anna. “It was only a mistake. And you will find, my dear Anna, that there is not a person alive who has not made mistakes. It is true that not all of them have quite such a potential for scandal as this, but that does not make you a bad person or mean that I should wish never to associate with you again.”

Was this it, then? Was she truly to suffer no consequences for her most improper actions? A relieved smile gently turned up the corners of Anna’s mouth.

“You are far too kind to me,” she told her friend. “You have no idea how grateful I am for it.”

“Or perhaps you are just too hard on yourself,” Charlotte disagreed. “Believe me, I understand why you are so distressed. I’m sure I would be too if I were in your place. And if it were public knowledge, of course you would have reason to worry. But I am the only one who knows and surely you could not think so little of me as to believe I would condemn you for being brave enough to confide in me.”

“Of course not,” Anna hurried to assure her. “You are too good and kind a friend to ever behave in such a way. I suppose it is less that I expected you to think that way and more that I believe you should.”

“Perhaps society would say that I should. But I find that I cannot. From what you say, it was so short a kiss that it can barely even be counted. And it was while you were under the influence of alcohol, no less.”

“I fear the fact that I was out on my own and not entirely sober does not paint me in a much better light. But I thank you for your understanding.”

They walked in companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Charlotte spoke up.

“There is one thing I would ask you.”

“What is that?”

“What are your feelings towards Mr. Winchester?” Anna’s immediate response was to brush this question off, considering it inconsequential. Anticipating this, Charlotte hurried to continue. “I know what you’re going to say. That your feelings are of no matter when you are already promised to someone. But I wish to understand the situation better. And besides, who can you talk to of any feelings you may have if not to your closest friend? I would imagine it a relief to be able to speak your true feelings aloud, whatever they may be.”

“Well,” Anna began after a few moments of deliberation. “I believe he is the handsomest man I have ever seen. He is kind and gentlemanly. He is very easy to talk to. And he has an appreciation and understanding of music that I have rarely seen.” Charlotte smiled, knowing how appealing this was to Anna. Anna sighed. “I believe if circumstances were different, I would like him very much,” she admitted.

“I believe what you mean to say is that you wish circumstances were different because you like him very much.”

Anna could not deny this, so she kept quiet. They were just completing their first full circle of the pond and about to start a second when they were approached by Sam and Dean Winchester. Bows and curtsies were exchanged before Sam spoke.

“Good afternoon. Would it be alright if we joined you?”

“Of course,” Charlotte agreed, unlinking her arm from Anna’s. “I daresay it would be most fortunate if you would. That way we can continue to enjoy our walk and have no need to return to our tent in order to enjoy your company.” She held her freed arm out to Sam, who was quick to offer his own to her. They began to walk together. Anna took the arm Dean offered to her and they followed a few steps behind Sam and Charlotte, who were already conversing. 

“I hope you and your family are settling in well,” Anna said.

“We are, thank you.”

“Do you plan to spend much of the day here?”

“I believe we will likely stay as long as everyone else does,” Dean answered. “My mother was quite pleased to see so many of the town’s families here today. She is eager to reacquaint herself with old friends.”

“Yes, I imagine she is,” Anna smiled. As they walked, they passed a group of gentlemen standing together in the grass, talking animatedly. 

“I must confess, I am surprised that you and your brother wanted to walk with us,” she said. “I would think you would rather join the other young gentlemen in their discussions and games.”

“I’m sure we will,” he replied. “But is it not also usual for a gentleman to walk with a young lady?”

“I suppose so,” she agreed. She didn’t bother pointing out that they usually only did so with young ladies they were courting, or ones they wished to court.

“Speaking of gentlemen, I do not believe I see Mr. Sanders here today,” he noted mildly.

“Oh,” Anna said, surprised at his choice of conversation. “I do not believe he is here. If he is, I have not seen him.”

“Will he be joining you later then?”

“Perhaps. We do not have any plans of the sort, but I imagine if he should arrive, we will spend at least some time together. Did you wish to speak to him?” Anna could think of no other reason for this line of questioning.

“No. I am merely trying to understand the two of you better.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean sighed. “You did not mention that you were engaged when we danced,” he said pointedly.

“Well, no, I suppose I didn’t. You’ll find I made no mention of it to your brother either. I don’t make a habit of mentioning such things to every man I dance with. I see no reason to unless I know the gentleman in question has a desire to court me.”

He seemed displeased by this response. “Perhaps you are right,” he frowned. “And yet, it does not make sense.”

It was Anna’s turn to frown. “What doesn’t make sense?” She rather thought her explanation was perfectly acceptable. And he had agreed. So what was bothering him?

“I have spent the past couple of days wondering how a man could neglect to ask the woman he is engaged to for a dance until the very end of the night,” he explained. “Or in the case of your Mr. Sanders, it appears he did not just neglect to, but forgot to entirely. I understand that ladies are not always entirely happy about the man they are to marry. It would make sense to me if you had avoided his attention whenever possible if that were the case. But a gentleman has a say in who he marries. Surely if the two of you are engaged, it is because he wishes it. So why was he so neglectful of you at the ball? Why is he not here now, taking advantage of the beautiful weather to proudly walk with you on his arm?”

“Perhaps you are not as wrong in your assessment as you think,” Anna said simply. “Mr. Sanders had no more to do with the engagement between us than I did. It was an arrangement between our fathers. One that he agreed to of course, but then so did I. That is why you do not detect any particular regard from him.”

“I suppose that does make some sense,” Dean agreed grudgingly. “But, still. Regardless of his feelings towards you, he agreed to the marriage and therefore he should treat you as any man would treat the woman he is engaged to. If he did not intend to do so, perhaps he should not have agreed.”

“I thank you for your concern, but I assure you it is unnecessary,” Anna told him. She couldn’t understand why he should care so much. They barely knew each other. And there was certainly no one else so worried about William’s treatment of her. “Firstly, this agreement between us is unofficial. Mr. Sanders still has one more year at university. It will be announced as a formal engagement once he has finished. Secondly, it is still somewhat new. He is still adjusting to the expectations that go along with it, but I do believe he is trying his best.”

Dean seemed to consider her words carefully before responding. “If that be the case, then I suppose you are right. All we can ask of someone is that they do their best. And you believe you will be happy with him?”

She chuckled. “My happiness has very little to do with it, as you well know.” He did not answer, only continued to look at her expectantly. She sighed. “I believe I am quite lucky. Mr. Sanders is kind. As for fortune and connections, we are quite well matched. And as silly a thing as it may be, I cannot help but be glad I shall not be married to an old man. I believe I will be content with him.”

“Then I shall say no more on the subject.”

“Perhaps instead you might tell me if you’ve had time to make any friends yet,” Anna suggested. “I did notice you seemed friendly with Mr. Young. Am I correct in assuming you know each other from school?”

“You are,” Dean answered. “I would not consider us close friends, but he is a decent fellow, and I admit it was a pleasant surprise to see a familiar face.”

“Yes, I imagine it was. What of other friends? There is no shortage of decent young gentlemen in this town. I don’t believe it should be difficult for you to find one or two whose company you enjoy.”

“Perhaps not, but it does not matter if I make any friends.”

“Because you are not going to be living here?” Anna guessed.

“Exactly.”

“I disagree,” Anna said. 

A small smile turned up one corner of Dean’s mouth. “Do you? May I ask why?”

Anna wasn’t sure if she should be frustrated at his obvious amusement or just glad to be getting along with him. She decided on being glad. After all, she had to admit that she was proud to be the source of his happiness. “You may not be living here,” she explained, “but your family is. I imagine you will want to visit them on occasion.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

“And as glad as they will be to see you, they will still have things they need to do. They will not be able to spend all of their time with you. Would it not then be wise to have a friend or two you may visit when your family is busy?”

“I suppose you are right,” he agreed easily. He was quiet for a moment as he scanned the faces around him, pretending to consider his options. “As you said, I already know Mr. Young, so there is one friend. Perhaps you would be my second friend?”

Anna tried to hide her smile. She could feel it pulling at her mouth, fighting to break free. “I think that is a possibility,” she said nonchalantly. She noticed his smile and could no longer contain her own. “Both of our mothers would be quite disappointed if we were not friends after all,” she continued, not wanting to become swept away in the moment. “And besides that, I find you are very easy to talk to. Yes, I think we could be friends.”

“Good. I think so too.”

“Winchester!” Someone called out. All four members of their little group stopped walking and turned to acknowledge the newcomer, George Young. “Sorry to interrupt. Could I borrow your companion Miss Foster? I was just trying to convince a couple of gentlemen of the merits of living in the city over the country, and I would appreciate having a Londoner to back me up. Your brother is welcome too, of course,” he added to Dean almost as an afterthought. “The more people arguing my case the better, I daresay.”

“As long as the ladies are ok with it, I believe we should be happy to join the discussion,” Dean answered, conveniently forgetting to mention that he favored the country himself, Anna noted. Sam nodded in agreement and all three gentlemen waited for a response from her and Charlotte.

“We were managing alright without you before. I think we shall be just fine on our own once again,” Charlotte told them. Anna chuckled.

“Until next time then,” Dean said.

The two ladies continued their walk in companionable silence, but it lasted for only a short time before Charlotte spoke up. “I apologize, my dear Anna. Perhaps it is not my place, but I feel I must say something.” Anna turned a puzzled gaze on her. “I did not mean to listen to your conversation, but walking as close as we were, it was hard not to overhear some of it. Surely you must have heard some of my conversation with the younger Mr. Winchester as well.”

She had, as a matter of fact, and had thought nothing of it. After all, they had been walking close as Charlotte said. Nothing could be expected to be entirely private at that distance. “Whatever are you talking about Charlotte?” Anna asked. It wasn’t like Charlotte to babble nervously.

“Well…” Charlotte hesitated, twisting her hands together. “It’s just that I heard you and Mr. Winchester agreeing that you could be friends,” she finally managed to say.

“Yes,” Anna agreed, drawing out the word a beat longer than necessary. “Should we not have? It is normal to make friends with people who move to the neighborhood you know.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Charlotte agreed brusquely, “but is it wise for you to be friends with this particular neighbor? Feeling the way you do about him when you are engaged?”

“Oh,” Anna said. A furrow formed between her brows as she considered her friend’s words. “I see what you are saying. But I do not believe it will be an issue.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” she said confidently. “Just because I feel a certain way does not mean my feelings are reciprocated. And he knows I am engaged. He would not be foolish enough to spend time with a promised lady if he felt anything more than friendship for her. I can hardly avoid him without giving him – and anyone else who might notice and question it – a reason. But what reason could I possibly give? Besides, he is only here for a short time. He will be gone by the end of summer. We probably won’t even see each other that much. No, I’m quite certain your concerns are misplaced. I thank you all the same though. You do not know how much it means to me to know I have you looking out for me.”

“You have always been there for me. It is only fair that I do the same for you.”

They walked together for a while longer before returning to their tent. Mr. and Mrs. Winchester were there, and Anna was promptly invited to come along with her mother for tea at their house in two days’ time. She couldn’t ignore a voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Charlotte mocking her earlier assertion that she would not be around Dean very often.

Chapter 3

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @aylacavebear

[randoimago]

Friends to Lovers, Confessing Feelings for Reeve Tuesti, please! Thank you!

Grease

Fandom: Final Fantasy 7

Character(s): Reeve Tuesti

Type of Request: 3,000 Follower Oneshots

Note(s): I'm sorry this one took me so long to write. I feel like I've tried writing this oneshot so many times, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it!!

"What's wrong?"

Reeve glanced up at the question, the concerned tone that he recognized easily to be your voice. He cleared his throat as he sat up in his office chair and looked up at you, trying to act as if he wasn't slumped over and holding his head in his hands moments ago.

"Nothing, just stress," he responds coldly. Internally, he winces at using that tone with you, but on the outside, he just hoped you didn't continue questioning him. When you moved a chair over to his desk, he knew you would.

"Reeve, you need to stop overworking yourself." Your tone is concern and scolding. Reeve can't help the miniscule smile that crosses his lips at such a tone. You always did try to get him to take better care of himself. Even if it was the expense of yourself at times, which he made sure to scold you too. He just takes in a breath of air that he exhales as a sigh.

"I can't afford to not overwork. With the actions of Avalanche constantly being a thorn in our side, I have to work harder." Especially now that innocent people are getting involved. He can't afford to relax when your life could potentially be caught in the crosshairs.

You just gave that adorable pout of yours, a thought that causes Reeve to pause and push aside. He can't afford to let some secret affections for you distract him. He disliked upsetting you when you were friends, but now that he has realized his true feelings, he hates upsetting you. And he hates that he knows he'll continue disappointing you on this path of his.

"Reeve-"

He says your name in the same exasperated tone. "I am fine," he tells you, leaving no room to argue. Yet you still squeeze through.

"You will take a break now. Call it an early lunch break or whatever. You need to get out of this office." This time, your tone was the one that gave no room. Reeve couldn't find it in himself to protest, a fact that is a bit annoying if he thinks too hard about it. But he stands up and walks with you, letting you link your arm with his and lead him. He tells his assistant that he'll be gone for twenty minutes. You correct him and say thirty.

"Where are we going?" Reeve asks as you pull him further out of the building. He knew you said that he needed to get out of his office, but he didn't realize you'd take him out of the whole building. He has to squint as the sun hits his eyes that have been too adjusted to the electrical lights and computer screens.

"We're going to get food." Reeve makes a face as he knows you'll take him to get something greasy and unhealthy. You say that he eats too well and tries too hard to maintain his imagine. He replies that you're going to die of a heart attack.

Yet as he sits at a table outside with you outside a food stand that probably violates a few of the sector's health codes, dressed in his damn suit (well most of the suit, he left his jacket in his office), he can't help but feel relaxed.

"You're perfect," he speaks quietly, softly, as if scared you'd run off. He knows you won't and even if you did, he'd have the resources to find you. Not that he would, he's got one of the better mental states in Shinra, but it is an option.

"My hands are covered in grease," you reply with an amused smile as you wipe your hands on a napkin, but he sees the softness in your eyes and Reeve gives a more relaxed, more genuine smile.

"You'd be perfect even if your whole self was a greasy mess." He ignores you rolling your eyes at him. "Listen, I have appreciated your friendship for a while-"

"Just kiss me." To say he's startled is an understatement. He wasn't expecting that at all. He's a higher up in Shinra. He's a very handsome man, so many magazines and news articles say so. And instead of being flustered and shy, you cut him off from giving his heartfelt confession. You truly are perfect.

"Of course," he whispers and leans in to kiss you. He'll complain about the grease from your meal later.

[yeenybeanies]

Smallest Cyber Specialist (pt. 11)

as it turns out, working from base is just as stressful as going out in the field with the 141. never a dull day! (feat. nikolai) the bold+italic text is meant to signal non-english dialogue, but apparently i can't code in underlines or hover text anymore on tunglr.hell 🙃 read it on ao3! (better formatting there tbh) first • previous • next call of duty | task force 141, nikolai, & pip lagomorph/lag (oc) 6,976 words strong language warning thanks for reading!! reblogs > likes!! patreon ✨ ko-fi ✨ ao3

The next time that the 141 left the compound, acting on more intel Pip had provided them, the hideling had opted to stay behind. She was fine at the base, she insisted. Where the operators were going, she was certain she could do everything she needed to do remotely. This particular target wasn’t directly AQ or Ultranationalists, but a side contractor that took an unfortunate deal to help out some terrorists. 

“I think it’s best,” Pip had argued, “that I stay out of the field for now. At least until I get this off.” She’d gestured to the cast on her leg. “With it, my mobility is limited. I’m vulnerable, and I slow you guys down.” 

Price had looked conflicted at the time, but ultimately agreed with her reasoning. None of them needed a repeat incident with Pip and an angry dog. Or something worse. 

So there she sat, using Price’s office as her workspace. She had her laptop, of course, and had it linked up to Price’s and another human-sized laptop, giving her plenty of screen space and computing power to do what she did best. 

“You boys almost there?” she asked into her headset. It was a redundant question; she knew exactly where they were, having been tracking their position ever since they left the compound two hours ago. She had a transponder on each of her handlers, unbeknownst to them. 

“Three kilometers out,” Price answered. “Gonna be walking the last one.”

“Roger that, Captain,” she said. “Sergeant Garrick, you still have that uplink I gave you?” 

“Got it safe and sound, Lag,” Gaz responded. “You want me to just hook it into just any computer?”

“Any computer or smart device. Anything that’s attached to the wifi.”

“Smart device?” Soap chimed in. “You tellin’ me you can hack in through someone’s smart fridge?” 

Pip leaned back in her seat, feeling a little smug. “A fridge. A printer. A dishwasher. Whatever. I’ve hacked into someone’s network through an aquarium filter before.” Without an uplink, at that. That was a fun time. She remembered it fondly, the satisfaction of it all, and the absurdity. “That uplink Gaz has bypasses a few steps for me, so it’ll be even easier to get in.” 

“Remind me when we get home to toss my smart speaker,” Price said with a huff. 

“You have a smart speaker, sir?” Gaz asked, sounding incredulous. “Do you know how to use it?”

Price made an offended noise. “Of course I do, Sergeant. I don’t know where you muppets get off, thinking I don’t know how to use modern technology. I’m not that much older than any of you.” 

That was true. The man wasn’t even forty yet, according to his file. 

A chorus of snickers rang over the comms, but Pip just grimaced. “You should definitely get rid of it, sir. Those things are painfully easy to break into. I could do it from halfway across the world, with my eyes closed.” 

“No need to brag, Pipsqueak. We can’t all be tech geniuses like you,” the captain chided playfully. 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Nearly there,” Ghost cut in. His voice surprised Pip, and sent a chill down her spine. 

She’d been more or less avoiding the lieutenant for the past few days, ever since she’d gone snooping into his files. The things she’d read in there… the stuff he’d endured… It made her shudder. She knew she’d have to get over it and carry on like normal sooner rather than later—preferably before Ghost noticed—but it was still very fresh in her mind. 

The cruelty of humans towards their own kind astounded Pip sometimes. It reminded her every day of why she and her people worked so hard to stay a secret from the wider human population. 

“Right, men,” Price said. “Look alive. Let’s make this quick; don’t wanna leave Lag lonely for too long.” 

“Go rot,” Pip grumbled in Hidespeak. 

“Heard that one before. Starting to think that’s an insult,” Soap said. He sounded like he was smiling. “Gonna have to teach us someday.” 

“Not on your life, Sergeant.” 

She watched on her screen as the four transponder icons slowed to a stop, and then started moving away from the road. They were on foot now, hoofing it towards the target compound. Ghost was going to take overwatch with a few operators, while Price, the sergeants, and the rest of the team infiltrated. 

This was going to go fine, she told herself. There was a different kind of anxiety that came with not being in on the action with her handlers, but Pip reminded herself that she was far from helpless here. As soon as Gaz could get her uplink hooked in, she would have the compound under her control. 

The first crack of a rifle—Ghost’s sniper, if she were to guess—rang over the comms. 

“Och—beautiful shot, LT,” Soap commented. Pip found some satisfaction in guessing correctly. She was learning a little bit about guns. 

“I can do better,” Ghost said. “So can you. Watch your six, Soap.” 

“Don’t need to when I got you watchin’ it for me. How’s it look, by the way? I’ve been doin’ some extra squats.” 

“I noticed.” 

Oh, gods. Pip muted her mic and let out a groan. Gaz did not mute his mic; his groan was heard by all. 

“Boys,” Price said, sounding exasperated, “don’t make me put you two in timeout.” 

“Would you put us in timeout together?” Soap asked, cheeky. 

“Soap,” Price snapped. There was more warning to that one, but it still made Soap snicker. 

Pip dragged her hands down her face and seriously considered taking her headphones off. Let her handlers do this mission on their own. They’d be fine without her. 

But no. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just abandon her boys, even if half of them were being very annoying right now. 

Wait. "Her" boys? What? When did that happen?

Actually, no time to think about that right now. Or ever. 

Pip breathed out a sigh and leaned back. Her role wouldn’t start until Gaz got the uplink hooked in. In the meantime, she was an observer, for better or for worse. While she waited, she pulled up some codes and programs she’d be using, giving them another look-over to make sure everything was in order. It was, of course, but there was no harm in septuple-checking. Or was it the octuple-check at this point? 

A flashing on Price’s laptop caught Pip’s attention. There was a new notification. An incoming call. The name “NIKOLAI” stared back at her, spelled out in all caps. 

“Uh… Captain, Nikolai is calling you.” 

“See what he wants,” Price said. “Little busy right now.” 

“Wha—you want me to answer it?” She watched the green phone icon shake as it rang, beckoning her, but she wasn’t feeling very swayed. 

“Nik doesn’t call unless it’s important. Go on and answer, Lag.” 

Liar. “I will pull up your call logs right now to prove to you that that’s not true,” she retorted. “And I’m not your secretary.”

“Lag—” the captain released an annoyed groan. “Just answer the bloody call for me, yeah? Make it quick; we’re almost to the first building.” 

Ugh! Pip glared at the incoming call, still ringing away on the computer. She’d never spoken to Nikolai before. Wouldn’t he be suspicious of someone other than Price answering his personal line? She knew she would be. 

Muting her end of the comms with the 141, Pip quickly connected her headset to Price’s computer, made sure the video camera was off, and accepted the call. “Nikolai,” she said, her voice modulator ringing back in her ears, “Captain Price is unavailable right now.” 

The other end of the call was silent for several long, uncomfortable moments, then the thick Russian accent came through, “Who is this?” 

Yep. Just as she’d predicted. Pip pinched her brow and shook her head. “My name is Lag. I am the cyber specialist Chief Director Kate Laswell assigned to Task Force 141.” Hopefully dropping Laswell’s name and title, along with the task force’s name, would earn her some credibility. “Captain Price is occupied right now; but I can relay a message.” 

“Oh! Lag! This is you?” Pip blinked, a little taken aback. He knew about her? How? And how much did he know? “Captain Price has mentioned that he now had a hacker. Nice to finally meet you. Er… sort of. I cannot see you.”

No shit. Pip cleared her throat. “I am unavailable for video calls. Nikolai—sorry to be short with you, but we’re in the middle of something. What is it you need?” 

“Right, right—I was just calling to let Price know that I got him the weapons he was asking for. I am on my way to drop them off, and will be there in—”

“No one’s at the base right now,” Pip said quickly. Her heart started to pick up the pace. “Probably best to hold onto them until Price gets back.” 

“Oh. But you are there, no?” 

Oh, hell no. “I’m unavailable for the time being. I can’t help—”

“Ah, no worries. I will drop them off anyway. It’ll be quick. Be there soon.” 

“Wait, no—” Before she could voice further protest, the call ended. Pip stared blankly at the computer screen, her heart pounding. 

Nikolai was coming here. And Pip was alone . 

Oh, shit. Fuck. No no no no—

“Ready to breach, Captain,” Gaz said, drawing Pip’s attention back to her handlers. Fuck! And she also had them to deal with too! The hideling let out a frustrated growl and turned back to her own computer, mic hot. 

“Nikolai has the weapons you asked for, Captain” she relayed, voice tight with irritation. “He’s coming to deliver them.”

“That’s my Nik,” Price replied approvingly. “Always pulls through for us.” 

“Charges set,” Gaz said. There was a muffled boom, then the comms erupted with chatter and gunfire. Pip hunched over, taking stock of where her handlers were, piecing together the scene in her mind. Gaz’s marker split away from Price and Soap, heading towards the server room, as discussed prior in planning. She focused in on his comms, his chatter; he was the important one right now, as her involvement depended on his success. From the sound of things, he was making quick, efficient work of any resistance he encountered. 

Pip’s hands hovered over her keyboard in anticipation when he entered the server room. She was ready. Eager. She wanted to help her boys get this done so they could hurry up and get back to base and deal with Nikolai. (That wasn't going to happen, but wishful thinking was all she had at the moment.) As soon as Gaz plugged the uplink in, the notification popped up on Pip’s screen, and her hands went to work. 

“Got your gadget hooked up,” Gaz said. “You connected?” 

Code scrolled down her screen, already hard at work to shatter firewalls and extract data. “Yep. I’ve got it from here. Thank you, Gaz. I’ll be in the security cameras here in a minute.” 

“Good work,” Price said. “Gaz, get back here. Lag, let us know what you can see.” 

“Roger,” they said in unison. 

A minute was a generous estimation to give Pip some leeway; she had the feeds  for all the security cameras pulled up on the other human laptop in less than thirty seconds. She watched for a moment as the dark, well-armed figures stalked through the halls, clearing the place out corridor by corridor. It was scary how efficient the 141 was. 

“I can see you, Captain,” Pip said. Price looked around until he spotted the nearest security camera, which Pip nodded up and down to acknowledge him. “Your hall is clear for no—wha– woah! Gaz, wait!” On another camera, the sergeant, having not yet made it back to Price, stopped in his tracks. His shoulders went stiff. “Five hostiles are coming your way!” 

Gaz cursed under his breath and ducked for cover behind a crate. Pip watched with bated breath as the group of five ran past. One stopped to look down Gaz’s hall, but continued on after deciding it was clear. His mistake. Pip breathed out in relief. 

“Thanks, Lag,” Gaz said, giving the camera near him a thumbs up. 

She kept an eye on things while the boys worked, offering advice and instruction as needed. Simultaneously, she also kept an eye on her laptop, where files rapidly flashed across the screen. This was going well. Going smoothly. For the first time since her (unofficial) induction into the 141, things weren’t going batshit buckwild fucking crazy. 

This was fine! 

And then Nikolai’s van pulled up outside of the base. Pip didn’t realize he’d arrived until she heard a heavy knocking on the vehicle bay door. 

“Hello?” The Russian called. 

“ Fuck—!” Pip’s blood ran cold. She snapped her laptop shut and scrambled for her belongings. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck—” 

“Lag?” Someone asked. It sounded like Soap, but Pip wasn’t sure. She was preoccupied.

“Lag—what’s wrong?” That was Price. 

Pip shoved her stuff into her backpack, hauled it under her pelt, and hobbled with her crutch to the edge of the desk. She could hear Nikolai in the hall now. Apparently he had a code to the garage door, and was able to come and go as he pleased. Terrible security practice on Price’s part.

“I told him not to fucking come! I told him—” 

“Lag, what the hell are you saying?” Was that Ghost?

“Nikolai is here!” she spat. 

“Wha—already ?” Price again. “I didn’t think he was coming now!” 

She reached the edge of the desk and dug her hook into the wood, then rappelled down to the floor. She shook the hook free right as knuckles rapped against the office door. 

She’d told him that no one was here! 

Ah, but the two laptops—the human-sized ones—were still up on the desk! There wasn’t much Pip could do about those. She cursed under her breath and took cover underneath the desk drawer. It was a narrow space of only a few inches between the floor and the bottom of the drawer, so she wouldn’t be spotted unless Nikolai decided to crouch all the way down. He had no reason to do that, right? Hopefully he wouldn't drop a pen or something.

The door opened slowly, squeaking on its hinges. Heavy boots took two steps into the office, then stopped. Pip watched, not daring to breathe. “Hello?” Nikolai said. He sounded confused. The boots remained still for a few moments, then stepped further in. Pip’s eyes didn’t leave them, not as they paused for a moment in front of the desk, then rounded it. 

“What is this?” the man said out loud, now in his native Russian. Pip listened to the soft groans in the wood above. If she were to guess, Nikolai was leaning his hands on the desk, looking over the two laptops. One still had all of the security camera feeds; the other had code scrolling down the screen. 

“Lag, how copy?” Price asked. Her comm was still in her headset, so Nikolai couldn’t hear it. With him so close, though, she wasn’t willing to risk being heard to answer the captain. 

Ghost spoke up, once again surprising Pip. “I’ll handle it,” he said. “You lot keep at it down there.”

He was going to handle it? What was he going to do? How could he handle anything from—

A buzzing sound came from somewhere up above. Pip recognized it as the vibration of a cell phone with an incoming call. Nikolai hummed a confused note and answered. “Ghost?” 

Ah. That’s how he was going to handle it. But Pip didn’t release her breath just yet. She couldn’t hear Ghost’s side of the conversation, and she had no idea what he intended to say. She was reasonably sure that he wouldn’t tell Nikolai that the 141’s resident cyber specialist was secretly a six-inch-tall hideling, but not knowing still made her nervous.

“Yes, I am at your base,” the Russian said. “Did your hacker tell you? …Is she here? I see two laptops here, one with what looks like security cameras… боже мой—that is Gaz! Is this feed live? …And you have access to the security cameras?”

Hearing Nikolai sound so impressed did make Lag feel a hint of pride in her work, but her fear and annoyance largely overshadowed it. She just needed him to leave ! She couldn’t work with him here!

“A compliment? From you?” 

What?

“She must be good then. I want to meet this hacker,” Nikolai said with an enthusiastic chuckle. “Maybe see if I can get her to work for me.”

Fat chance of that. 

“Wha—hiding from me? Why would she be—... Oh. I see…”

Pip’s anxiety spiked again. What was Ghost telling him? 

“Right…” He said, dejected. Pip grimaced. “No problem. I will be out of here in a few minutes. Leaving the manifest on Price’s desk.” 

Thank the gods...!  

Nikolai’s boots headed for the door and stepped out, the door closing behind him. Pip finally released her breath, and gasped to soothe her burning lungs. She waited a few seconds more, listening to the Russian’s retreating footsteps, then crawled out from her hide space. Using her hook, she quickly climbed back up onto the desk and pulled out her equipment to resume her work. She glanced at the cameras to regain her bearings, then checked her download progress. It was almost done. About a minute left.

“Okay, I’m back,” she said into her comm. “Thanks, Ghost.”

The lieutenant didn’t respond, but Price did. “All good?” 

“All good,” she confirmed. “One more minute, then I can kill the power for you, if you need.” 

She would have done so earlier, but this facility’s power unit was more centralized, so she wouldn’t have been able to keep the computers working. 

“We’ll let you know,” Price said. “Might not need it. We’ve already found what we’re looking for.” 

“Missile parts?” 

“Missile parts. Nothing assembled, though.” 

That was good news. Pip’s computer dinged, signifying the complete download. She gave the file names a cursory look-over, and selected one of the manifests. It listed off parts for ten missiles, among other things. Her brow furrowed. There were no cameras inside the storage room where the parts were being held, but she had a funny feeling. 

“Captain, how many missile kits do you count? This manifest I’m looking at says they received ten.” 

The answer wasn’t immediate, though she heard a few men counting under their breath. 

“Looks like I got four over here, Cap” Soap said. 

“Two here,” Gaz answered next. 

“Shit. Only two over here, too” Price said gravely. “Everyone fan out. Search this place top to bottom for any signs of those last two kits.” 

Pip turned her attention to the cameras. She accessed the harddrive, pulled up recordings over the past week. She opened an image analysis program on her laptop and linked it to the recordings, giving it specific parameters to scan for. Large crates leaving the compound. It wasn’t a failsafe program, and would likely flag more than what she was looking for, but it would be a start. If those missile parts had left this facility at some point in the last week, she’d find out when. 

“I am leaving now!” Nikolai’s voice boomed out in the hall, making Pip jump. She put a hand to her chest, feeling the pounding within. Fucking hell, she’d almost forgotten that he was still here. “If you can hear me, Lag, I apologize for intruding! All the cargo is in the garage.” 

A part of her—a very small, but surprisingly loud part—felt kinda bad for just ignoring the Russian. Sure, he’d dropped by unexpectedly and given her quite the fright, but his intentions were good. He was a valuable asset and ally, and Price seemed to trust him. 

Did she trust him? No. Not when he was so close. Hell, she barely trusted her handlers. 

Wait, so she did trust her handlers? Maybe. Maybe she was starting to. 

Pip transferred Nikolai’s contact information from Price’s laptop to hers, and typed out a quick SMS. 

>> спасибо, николай >> this is lag by the way. my personal contact

From down the hall, almost to the far door, she heard Nikolai’s surprised words: “Oh! She speaks Russian, too!” 

Hopefully she wouldn’t regret giving her contact to him. 

The analyzing software pinged with a few matches to the parameters she’d set. She pulled up the flagged clips and looked them over. The first three were nothing, but the fourth one—

Pip switched on her mic, “Captain, I think I’ve found them leaving the facility two days ago.” A chorus of cusses echoed over the line. Pip felt the sentiment. 

“You got all the data from the computers, right? Can you find where they’re going?” 

“Working on it, sir.” Fingers flying over her keyboard, Pip dug into the files she’d taken. She navigated over to one of the shipping schedules and looked up the date and time that matched the camera feed. Surely something had to be here. It had to. There was no reason for there not to be anything here.

But it was blank. That whole day was—it was missing. 

She checked another file, and found that day missing from there too. 

Confused, Pip started a broad search—something, anything to do with the missiles for that day. Communication logs, manifests, shipment schedules—literally anything . Russian, Arabic, Farsi, English, French, German, Spanish. 

Nothing.  

Pip sat back, frustration and unease starting to boil in her gut. This didn’t look good. This was… bizarre. Why would there be no records on that specific day? It was like that day had been erased from the entire system. 

“I…” she didn’t like this feeling washing over her. This feeling of failure. Of uselessness. Failure, of course, was an inevitable part of life, but, when it involved terrorist missiles being lost to the wind, things got a bit more dire. “The records… they’re not here,” Pip said, forcing her voice to remain even. Calm. “I can’t—I don’t have anything, Captain. Not until I can comb through this more thoroughly, which will take time.” 

Price sighed, sounding disappointed, and it stung. That surprised Pip. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I—”

“Don’t apologize,” Price interrupted. “Just do your best. Keep looking. Everyone, clear out! We’re gonna torch this place. Ghost, you and your team RV with us back at the truck.” 

“Yes sir”s and “roger”s quipped from everyone on the channel. 

Pip didn’t pay much attention to their retreat. She kept her comms open, and could hear the idle chatter, but, if asked to repeat anything said, she would come up with nothing. She was focused instead on furiously tearing through the files, looking for something, anything. Anything that could alleviate this catastrophic (gods, calm down) failure of hers. 

Why was that one day missing? It had to be intentional, right? Alarm bells rang in Pip’s mind, screaming that this was sanitation work. Someone had gone through and wiped this data from the computers. 

But why? That would suggest that they knew to counter hackers. 

They’d even gone beyond basic file deletion and completely removed any traces of the data from the server, leaving no chance of file recovery. Pip raked her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath to try and curb her frustration. Today was turning out to be a lot more stressful than she’d anticipated. She thought bitterly that, at this point, she might as well have just gone with her handlers, if it was going to leave her feeling about the same level of distress.

Gods, could she have one calm day with the 141? Just one? She would love that. 

Another sigh, then the hideling steeled herself, and settled in for a long stint of file analysis. 

The next two hours went by without her noticing, too engrossed in her work to pay attention to the time. So it surprised her when she heard several pairs of boots in the hallway. First she flinched, ready to fling herself off of the desk again to hide, but she noticed her handlers’ transponders were all back at the base before she could act on that impulse. 

Ah. So they’d returned to her. She frowned hard with the knowledge that she’d gotten no new useful intel on the missing missile parts in the time it took them to return home. 

She quickly closed the tracking program—no need to keep it up, lest it garner her any uncomfortable questions—and resumed her scanning. Familiar footsteps approached the door. Gaz pushed it open tentatively and peeked in. Pip glanced up to acknowledge him. There was a thin layer of ash and dirt on his skin, in his hair. 

“You alright in here?” he asked, stepping into the office. 

“No,” she said flatly, eyes falling back to the document she was reading through. “No I’m not, Kyle.”

For reasons unknown, Gaz’s first name came easier to her. It also helped that he didn’t miss a beat, hearing her say it. Either he hadn’t noticed, or he didn’t care. He rounded the desk and leaned in, looking over the different screens Pip still had up. The laptop that had the camera feeds was just a mosaic of black squares and static now that the compound had been reduced to rubble. Various documents with highlights and margin notes littered the screen of the other. 

“Quite the setup you’ve made for yourself in here,” he commented. Pip responded with a vague hum. Gaz squinted over her shoulder at Pip’s hideling-sized screen, but couldn’t make much out between the small font and the Cyrillic. 

“I haven't found anything useful yet,” Pip said, under the impression that Gaz was here to check up on her progress. “There’s a lot to go through; I’m working as fast as I can.” 

“Of that, I  have no doubt,” the sergeant said. “Just checkin’ in to see how you’re doing.” He sounded sincere. Pip felt something tickle in her gut. She turned her head to look back at him, the hard furrow of her brow softening just a little. 

“Thanks, Gaz.” Genuine. Appreciative. 

“You haven’t touched your snacks,” Gaz notes, nodding to the still-wrapped protein bar, strips of jerky, and small cup of water left for her. 

Pip shrugged. Honestly, she’d forgotten that they were there. Too busy. Too stressed. “Not hungry.” A partial lie. She was hungry, but she hadn’t noticed until now. Still, Gaz responded with an unconvinced hum.  

“We didn’t all split this,” he said, taking the protein bar into his hand and turning it over to read the label. “Before we left. Forgot our ritual. Maybe that’s why you’re having bad luck.” 

Pip snorted. It was her turn to sound unconvinced. “Don’t think it counts as a ‘ritual’ if we’ve only done it once before.” But she did feel a warmth settle under her skin at the memory of them sharing that last snack. That was only a few days ago. Gods, why did it feel like it had been longer? 

“Well, that’s how you make something a ritual, yeah? You keep doing it,” Gaz continued. “Think we can tap into some of the good luck if we share it now?” 

“I’m not superstitious,” Pip replied with a shrug. “Don’t believe in any of that luck nonsense. But if you want it, go ahead.” Despite her body reminding her that she was, in fact, hungry, Pip didn’t feel like eating just yet. 

Gaz didn’t pressure her, which she was silently grateful for. He set the bar down, and straightened up, sparing the screens just a moment more of his attention. “Wanna come see what Nik brought us? Price said it’s some cool stuff.” 

Pip hunched further. “Guns and weaponry are more your style. I wouldn’t really know what I’m looking at” she said. This reminded her that she still needed to get a better familiarity with the equipment her handlers lugged around, but now wasn’t the time for that. Something compelled her to not outright reject the sergeant, though. “Maybe another time, Gaz. You guys have fun. I’m… I’m going to keep at this for a while longer, I think.”

A weight settled on her right shoulder—Gaz’s index finger, she quickly realized. Reassuring touches could be awkward with the size disparity between humans and hidelings, but Pip did appreciate the gesture. She reached up and patted his knuckle in return. 

“If you’re sure,” he said, voice softer. 

“I am. Thank you for checking in.” 

–– –– ––

After Gaz left, Pip lost track of time again. It was almost like she was in a trance, a fugue state of sorts, her mind on one sole track: sorting and scrolling and combing through these goddamn files for a crumb of usable information. Her frustration, for the time being, was tempered; there was a numbness that settled in its place. A resigned numbness. 

Eventually, there came another knock to the door, now ajar after Gaz’s exit. Thankfully, this time, Pip felt no compulsion to hide. She didn’t look up just yet, nor did she say anything. The door swung open so Price could let himself in, a frown fixed under his mustache. 

“Awful quiet in here,” he commented. 

Pip paused her scrolling and leaned back, taking the captain in. Her eyes stung from strain, and she could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping under her skull, but she did not voice her complaints. “Welcome back, Captain,” she said simply. “Happy with your new toys?” 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, some of that frown lessening just a smidge. “Sorry about that mess earlier with Nik, by the way. Though I’m positive he wouldn’t have hurt you, had he seen you.” 

Pip closed her eyes, quiet for a few seconds as she waited out the sting. “That’s not the point,” she said. There was a hint of bitterness in her tone, something resurfacing from prior resentment at past actions. But she didn’t want to get into that right now. Too much other shit on her plate. 

“I know, I know, I’m just sayin’—” 

“Price—please… Is there something you need? Because I have a lot of files to go through, and I’ve barely made a dent.” 

The captain shook his head. “Don’t need anything,” he said. “Well—I’ll need the desk back. And my laptop. Paperwork, y’know? Best part of the job.” The sarcasm was thick on his tongue. Were Pip in better spirits, she might have graced him with an amused huff. Not a laugh, but a huff. Instead, she ran a hand through her hair and took stock of where all of her stuff was. 

“Right. I can relocate—” 

“Don’t pack up.” Price held a hand up, stepping closer to the desk. “Just scoot over a little bit. Plenty of space here for the both of us.” 

Right. Of course. They’d done this already before. Hell, they were sharing this desk just the other day. Pip untethered the wireless links to the larger laptops, letting both screens go black, then scooted herself and her belongings over to one far corner of the desk. Price sat down heavily in his chair with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. He swiped the hat off of his head and set it aside. He too had a fair amount of dirt caked to his skin. Pip suspected that Soap and Ghost were in similar states. Everyone was in need of a shower. 

Damn, a shower sounded really nice right about now…

Maybe later she'd ask one of her handlers to help her with one. 

Pip settled in, mentally preparing herself for a sleepless day, and possible sleepless night, of work. 

“You didn’t eat,” Price noted, his words cutting into Pip’s thoughts. 

She suppressed an eyeroll. She’d already had this conversation with Gaz. Already done this song and dance. “Don’t feel like eating.” Not a lie. 

“Probably should, though.” 

“Gaz said as much. Lamented that we didn’t share a snack before you guys left.” 

Price quirked a brow. “‘Lamented,’ did he?”

“Lamented,” she repeated. “Blubbering like a baby. Blamed the bad luck I’m having on that protein bar right there.” She nodded to the bar in question. Price took it up in his hand, the wrapper crinkling against his gloves. 

“If I open this, will you eat some?” 

Pip turned her head up toward the ceiling, eyes closed. “Price, I’m really not—Gaz and I already had this talk. I just want to keep at this before I lose steam.” 

“Alright. Okay.” He set the bar back down, and let the topic drop. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

In lieu of a verbal response, Pip gave him a thumbs up, then set back to work. 

At some point, she’d put on music in her headphones—something to fill the silence in the space that Price’s pen scratches and slow breaths couldn’t. And, at some point, that music stopped without her noticing. It was a two-hour-long playlist she’d put on, and who knew how long ago it had ended. By this point, she was properly spaced out, too focused to notice the ache in her back, the numbness in her limbs, the growl in her stomach. 

But Price noticed that last one. He lifted his head, brows scrunching together. “Was that you?”

Pip hummed without actually having heard him; it was an automatic response on her part. 

It didn’t register that the crinkling noise behind her was Price opening the protein bar. The soft snap of said protein bar being broken up didn’t register either, not until Price’s fingers entered her field of vision, a piece pinched between his thumb and pointer. Pip blinked, leaning back from the intrusion with a confused look on her face. 

“Sir…?”

“Eat somethin’, Lag,” Price said. “You’re overdue for a snack.” 

Long overdue. Overdue for a nap, too, but that wasn’t going to happen if she could help it. Reluctantly, Pip accepted the piece and nibbled on it. It was sweet with caramel and bits of crunchy nuts. Normally, it would delight her, but she was too distracted to notice the taste. 

“Not every mission is a success,” Price says. “Sometimes our intel doesn’t work out—” he winced as it left his mouth. Pip’s head whipped around, her pupils blown wide. 

“My intel was solid,” she snapped. The stress and her weariness had worn down the restraint on her temper. “I found the facility. I found those missile parts. I just…” Protein bar forgotten again, she turned back to her computer. “This is intentional. There’s no way I’m just… missing it. Someone’s tampered with this database.” 

Price reached around her. For a second, she thought he was going to pick her up, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed the top of her laptop down, closing it. He then took the discarded snack and handed it back to her. 

“The data’s been removed,” he summarized. Pip nodded, staring down at the food in her hands. “And you can’t recover it?” 

The hideling ducked her head, eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t,” she said. “It’s been wiped clean. Whoever sanitized this server knew enough to cut off any chances of recovery.” She drew in a slow breath. “The only somewhat useful information I’ve been able to get so far is the vehicle that took the missing missile parts. But the license plate wasn’t visible in the camera…” She trailed off, brows furrowing. For a long moment, she was silent. A light bulb went off over her head. 

“Pip…?” Price prodded. He ducked his head, trying to catch her eye again, but she turned away and opened her laptop back up. 

“Maybe there were cameras somewhere on the roads leading away from the compound.” She wasn’t talking to Price anymore so much as she was voicing her idea out loud. The man leaned over her, squinting at her little screen, but she paid him no mind. There was a renewed spark of hope in her chest. A hope that just maybe, maybe she could get something out of this failure—

“Mother fucker!” No fucking cameras. Not a single street camera on the one road that led to and from the compound. 

Pip slammed her laptop shut again and dropped her head into her hands, fingers pulling at her hair. A frustrated, borderline anguished groan pushed its way through her clenched jaw. Behind her, she heard Price shift, then felt a warm pressure on her back, over her pelt. The pad of a finger, sans glove. It rubbed gently up and down her spine, sending a wave of shudders in its wake. 

“It was worth a shot,” he said, no-doubt meaning to be encouraging, but it came off as patronizing. Pip grumbled something unintelligible and sagged under his touch. “We’ll find those parts, Pip. You need to let this go.” 

Let it go. Pip huffed and shook her head. She’d never been good at letting go. Never been good at failure. 

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said, her voice weaker than she would have liked. “I… I’ll keep trying. I’ll figure something out—” 

Both of Price’s hands came down around her, scooping her up into his palms. He held her at eye level, his sharp eyes studying her. “You’re done,” he said after a long moment of silence. Pip’s head snapped up, brows raised in alarm. Her heart rate spiked.

“Wha—?” 

“For the day,” he clarified, seeming to realize how ominous his words sounded. “You’re taking the rest of the day off.” 

That sounded awful. That sounded like the worst thing she could do right now, when this was so critical— “Price, I can’t just—” 

“Nope. No arguments,” he said with a hard sense of finality. “You’re not to use your little laptop for the rest of the day.” 

Pip snapped her mouth shut, her teeth coming together with an audible click. She ground them together once, twice. “You’re treating me like a child,” she growled. 

“Would make sense, since you’re acting like a child.” Pip bristled, but the captain continued, “But no, I’m not. I’m treating you like a cranky, stubborn little shite that needs to take a break.”

“Fuck you.” Bitter. Acrid. She switched to Hidespeak, “You’re the most infuriating commanding officer I’ve ever had to deal with, and I hope you rot.” She didn’t mean it. Not the last part, anyway. (Or even really the first.)

Price leaned back in his chair, an amused smug smirk peeking out under that mustache. “Only part of that I understood was ‘commanding officer.’ No word for ‘CO’ in your language?” 

She ignored that question, not in any mood to entertain prying into her culture. “What am I supposed to do then?”  

“Eat. Drink. Sleep. Try to relax.” The captain shrugged, nonchalant. “Get yourself in the headspace for your vet appointment tomorrow.” 

Motherf—! She’d forgotten about that! Fuck! Pip pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and swallowed down the urge to scream. Price chuckled, but Pip didn’t find the deep rumble very pleasant right now. 

“I want to go home,” she said. She wouldn’t, not before she finished this damn mission, but she had to voice her sentiment. 

“We’ll get you there,” Price said. “Just need you to hang on with us a bit longer.” It sounded like a promise, but Pip knew all too well just how easily a promise like that could be broken out here. This was dangerous work. No one was guaranteed a ride home in this line of work. Not even Price. 

Reluctantly, she nodded her head, still buried in her hands. 

“Right. That’s a good girl. So. Finish up that protein bar and this water, and then I’ll take you somewhere where you can get some shut eye, yeah?” 

Sorry, good girl? Oh no. Nope. She was not going to acknowledge that, nor the way it sent a shock of butterflies fluttering through her gut. None of that. Pip snatched her snack up and tore off a big bite, a bit more ravenous than necessary to distract herself. She didn’t meet Price’s gaze, but her eyes did wander to the scarf folded loosely around his neck. 

That gave her an idea. She’d done it with both of her past handlers multiple times. 

“There,” she said, pointing to the scarf. Price glanced down at it, brows furrowed, then looked back at her quizzically. 

“What?” 

“Your scarf,” she clarified. “If… if it’d be okay. I could sleep in there.” 

One of Price’s hands fell away to curl into the scarf, pulling it away from his neck. “You want to sleep in this? While I’m wearing it?”

Gods, the more he asked her to explain it, the more awkward she felt. Her cheeks were getting warmer by the second. But she nodded. “If you’d be okay with that.” 

And when he agreed after thinking it over for a moment, she did find it a little surprising. But she wasn’t going to back out now, not as the captain brought her close to his neck, letting her and her pelt slip into the folds of his scarf. It was warm, and smelled of sweat and gunpowder, but that had never bothered Pip. It was cozy. Once she was settled in a comfortable pocket against his neck, situating her pelt between herself and his skin, she was practically invisible, lost under the scarf. No one would know she was there. 

“You alright down there?” Price asked. So close to his throat, his deep voice rattled through her. Pip sighed and buried her face into the fabric. 

“‘As good as I can be,” she answered. 

"You're not gonna slit my throat while you're in there, are you?"

Now that was an idea. Pip hummed. "Tempting." But probably not. Probably.

[vesselrae]

For the edgy oc ask meme..... 9 !

oouuughh this activates the neurons VERY HARD this will Not be a simple answer fkgfgkjh MORE UNDER CUT-

this was also probably gonna be longer but i only now just got my computer set up im so sleepyyy

THIS GONNA BE FOR VEL'RYN my stinky critter, im writin little things for some of em, some are like... if i wasss maybe to do a little comic thingy or story maybe i would give context to that more? idk i dont wanna write too much ahha but also a lot of these have association HEAVILY due to head amvs and INTENSE vibes??

Sleep Token - Alkaline 'Not acid nor alkaline Caught between black and white Not quite either day or night She's perfectly misaligned' The whole song is VERY vel'ryn, esp fray'ryn ship considering the whole esteem thing (which in my lore is more separated and has a little bit of a difference just a bit? i think its a common difference tho),

but on the face value of the song it really captures them really close lol- their visuals, their changes over the course of their story, how it effects everyone else the more dynamisticly radiated they are, let alone the MENTAL.

the Buttress- brutus 'Something wicked this way comes And as I set to face it, I'm unsure should I embrace it, should I run? What motivates me? Hatred? Is it love? What's more wrong, that I too wish to be great Or my mother wished she'd had a son? And even if I can't be the one Maybe I could at least help make way for him Until the day that he comes Maybe my name could also be known That I helped return good to the people And restored greatness to Rome' -and also- 'My name is Brutus and my name means heavy So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy'

another one where the whole song is kind of an outline for vel!!! this one leaning into both verses vel is in differently; ffxiv being a literal sibling-type beat, and seele-verse being more of a paranoid thought system that were basically hereditary.

spirit box - hysteria 'What I've created as violent delights in my head Will have a violent end A broken violent end

And I feel fear disintegrate Axis annihilate In crystal clarity Tension pulling me in the shadows'

Shiro Sagisu - Keep your head above the mayhem 'Showing flashes of bravado In a torrent of destruction Keep your head above the mayhem Clarity will be your weapon As the blinded falter and die'

Brand of Sacrifice - Animal 'Don't let go of what's left of your humanity Blood must flow I will not allow myself to be an animal All I know is I must subdue the beast Hatred grows and so does the temptation to release'

very 'in battle' moment, because vel is SOOO dynamis heavy. they can absorb aether a little more than normal sure but dynamis is strooong and they can use it like aether (mostly against their will and only in battle or in complete mania, which can happen anyyytime with usss) and it acts sort of like spiritual pressure (like bleach!), so the more its used the more their brain fries the more they spiral... its a cycle thats VERY slippery-

theres a lot more, ill link the playlist i have for vel! always updating it tbh, but when i make playlists i take every part of a song literally and its gotta fit a vibe somehow yknow?? the rhythms, the riffs, the sounds and vocals- !!!

however, other songs that have relating lyrics include; Frozen- celldweller (social kid remix) Magdalena- a perfect circle Love me- counter parts Грустная Сука- ic3peak Granite- Sleep token (as well as Atlantic) which is REAAALLY heavily paired with @rohandydandy 's wol rohir kjbfkjh (atlantic is also a frayryn song, but its really well paired either way!!)

Songs without lyrics are also important!! i think riffs say what words cant! Meshuggah- They move below (beginning looped)

Jason richardson(luke holland)- Sparrow

Aequilibrium- Andrey Vinogradov

Augury - richaadeb

and so on ::} Full character playlist

[melanielocke]

The Stars Collide - Chapter 34

Sorry for being late with posting, I haven't made much progress with writing the Stars Collide. I'm finding it difficult to write now that Alastair and Thomas are not in the same place anymore and I can't just focus on the romance and for some reason I struggled with this chapter especially. I haven't written the next chapter yet but I hope I can post it sometime next weekend.

Grace Blackthorn’s apartment was empty of anything remotely personal. It was small, one bedroom, one bathroom and a living room and kitchen in one, but even within the limited space there was very little placed. No pictures, no decoration, no books. The only thing Thomas could find after he and Cordelia spent an hour searching the place was a book on magic technology that was written in Edom, placed somewhere in a drawer out of sight. Edom did not have the same technology Henry had invented here, the ability to read magic the way he did, but it seemed like they had done different experiments. Henry’s invention had been a missing link for them, but the knowledge in here was restricted to those outside Edom.

‘This is too difficult for me,’ Thomas said. ‘But to Christopher this will be invaluable.’

‘We need to find Alastair though,’ Cordelia said. ‘How is Edom technology going to help us do that?’

‘Christopher is trying to find a way to track Alastair based on the reading of his power,’ Thomas said. ‘No guarantees, but perhaps there’s something in this book that will help him.’

‘I’ll look around one more time,’ Cordelia said. ‘And then we’ll meet up at Lucie’s rooms, she’s trying to use her magic to locate Alastair.’

Thomas went to the lab first, where Christopher was busy typing behind his computer.

‘Did you eat anything?’ Thomas asked.

Christopher considered for a few moments, then shook his head.

‘Alright. Dinner at seven at my place, okay?’ Thomas said. ‘Alastair wouldn’t want us all to starve for his sake. We went to Grace’ place, and there wasn’t much there, except this book. It’s a book on Edom magic technology.’

Christopher’s eyes went wide. ‘Really? That sort of knowledge is heavily restricted. We tried to hack their database, but it’s too well protected. I’ll start reading straightaway.’

Thomas raised an eyebrow. ‘You tried to hack Edom?’

Thomas knew he shouldn’t ask. He never quite knew what Christopher got up to, and if it was anything illegal, he didn’t want to know about it. He was an official diplomat now, he needed plausible deniability when it came to these things.

‘It was all in vain,’ Christopher said. ‘I’m not a good enough hacker. Grace claimed she’d lost access too after moving, but apparently she was at the forefront of Edom’s research. Oh, this is fascinating.’

‘Seven,’ Thomas repeated. ‘Dinner. If you do not eat, I will force you.’

One of the reasons Thomas had been successful in getting Alastair to eat three meals a day was past experience with Christopher. He’d always made sure Christopher ate regularly, especially during their time at university. When Kit had still lived at home, he’d have to come eat dinner with his parents at least, but as a student and left to his own devices, Christopher had soon lost his eating schedule. He’d lost so much weight his parents had worried he’d developed an eating disorder, until they’d realized it was scheduling Christopher struggled with. He got so caught up in work he barely noticed time pass him by, and he did feel hunger the way most people did. Thomas had taken to making sure he ate and slept at healthy times, and now he’d done the same for Alastair.

He walked to Lucie’s rooms and knocked on the door. Cordelia opened, rushing him inside. Lucie’s rooms weren’t so different from his own in size and decoration, except that Lucie had even more bookshelves. There were bookshelves everywhere Lucie had space left, and her parents had even more space for books. It was as if they lived inside a library.

Lucie was seated on the sofa, sorting through sea shells, pinecones and autumn leaves.

‘I’m not getting anything specific,’ Lucie said. ‘All I can tell so far is that Alastair is still on the planet, but that’s not specific enough. I need to narrow it down, but I can’t figure out how.’

Thomas sighed. It was a good thing that Alastair was still on Fair, and he guessed there had to be another underwater lab somewhere. But there was so much ocean on the planet, they could be anywhere shallow enough. Or perhaps he was on a submarine that wasn’t anchored to the bottom of the sea, if that were the case they could truly be everywhere.

‘How does it work exactly?’ Thomas asked.

Lucie handed him a seashell stuffed with torn up pieces of maple leaf. ‘This is the best one I made. You have to hold it in both hands. Cordelia got some of Alastair’s hair from his hairbrush, you need a piece of someone to track them. Blood is a lot more potent but you rarely have more than some hair.’

Thomas tried to think, but it was really unlikely they’d find any blood or different parts of Alastair than hair. He held the charm in both hands, trying if he could feel anything. He should, Lucie was the only one who could make it so easily, but anyone could use it. He felt the magic within the charm, and let it guide him to Alastair. He was on Fair, that much they knew, but he needed more. More, he begged of the charm. And he could feel more. Alastair was south. South of here, which left about half the planet. It still wasn’t enough, but it was progress.

‘South,’ Thomas breathed. ‘Alastair’s to the south somewhere. I can’t get it more specific than that, but if I keep trying perhaps we can narrow it down further.’

It would be a long time until he could narrow it down to a searchable area like this, but perhaps combined with what Christopher could do… It would take time, and yet they had no time to waste. Thomas couldn’t bear to leave Alastair alone out there. Where was he? He had to be so scared. Did he know Thomas was looking for him? Likely, Alastair had no reason to believe Thomas would find him.

‘How did you get it more specific?’ Lucie asked. ‘I’d been trying for an hour already.’

‘I don’t know,’ Thomas said. ‘I had to force it a little, but I did nothing special.’

Lucie furrowed her brows, considered for a moment before handing Thomas a necklace with a series of seashells dangling from it. ‘Thomas, try this charm. Put it around your neck.’

Thomas put it around his neck. It wasn’t exactly his style, but seashells were one of the most common ingredients in witch charms on this planet.

‘Anything?’ Lucie said and her voice was so loud Thomas instinctively covered his ears as she spoke.

‘Stars, Lucie, you’re making my ears bleed.’

‘Take it off.’ Despite Lucie whispering, she was still plenty loud for Thomas to hear.

Thomas took the charm and his hearing returned to normal. ‘What exactly was the point of that?’

‘It’s supposed to increase hearing just a little bit,’ Lucie said. ‘Your hearing was increased so much my normal voice was too loud for you.’

‘So?’

‘You’re far more sensitive to magic than other people,’ Lucie said. ‘I suspected when you rescued Alastair at the beach. I gave both you and Cordelia a charm that would help you extend your breath underwater, but you didn’t have to breathe at all.’

‘No, I thought that was the point,’ Thomas said.

‘My magic isn’t that strong,’ Lucie said. ‘That’s the thing with witch magic, I can do a lot of different things, but they’re all small benefits. It’s quite different from what Alastair can do, his magic is related to one domain but it’s very strong. I could enhance your memory too, but nothing to the extent Alastair can do.’

‘So then what does it mean that I could breathe underwater with your charm?’

‘I think you’re far more sensitive to magic than other people,’ Lucie said. ‘That might also mean you’re more easily harmed by it, but my charms have a much stronger effect on you. That’s interesting.’

Thomas didn’t know what that meant exactly. More sensitive to magic made sense, he guessed, maybe that’s why he was drawn into Alastair’s memory so easily. Perhaps that meant there was a way for them to establish a connection through Alastair’s memory even over this distance.

‘Is there anything you could do to enhance my sensitivity to Alastair’s magic?’ Thomas asked. ‘If he could reach me, maybe he could show me where he is.’

Lucie considered for a moment. ‘Maybe. Alastair would have to try to reach you.’

‘It must also help to close the distance between us and Alastair,’ Cordelia said. ‘I can fly us south, and see if we can narrow down Alastair’s location.’

‘The tracking charm is reusable,’ Lucie said. ‘We should bring Alastair’s brush with his hair just to be sure.’

Thomas nodded. ‘We’ll leave after dinner. I invited Christopher and I’ll want to discuss with him before we leave.’

Thomas didn’t spend as much time on cooking as he usually did, the stress of missing Alastair was too much and he couldn’t concentrate. He ended up making a simple pasta with tomato sauce and some leftover spinach. Christopher arrived a little late, and ate what remained of the pasta. Thomas suspected it might be the first thing he’d eaten all day.

‘Did you make any progress in the book?’

‘I haven’t finished it yet,’ Christopher said. ‘But it confirmed that Edom citizens aren’t born with magic. What it makes it very weird is that this changes after Edom conquers a planet. Even if a planet had born magic users before, no more were born after the conquering.’

‘That makes no sense,’ Thomas said.

‘Not unless there’s something about Edom that stops magic users for being born,’ Christopher said. ‘The book doesn’t mention the emperor, but there’s an implication that he does use magic. And there was a whole program in giving children and teenagers powers in Edom. I haven’t really gotten to that yet.’

‘I imagine that technology didn’t work as well as they wanted,’ Cordelia said. ‘Otherwise why would they need Henry’s technology or Alastair?’

‘No, I imagine not,’ Christopher said. ‘Without being able to read magic, whatever they did was a shot in the dark, they wouldn’t have been able to nestle power properly into someone’s brain. Even with Henry’s technology, I wouldn’t trust to try that.’

‘They tried it with Charles and it was what killed him,’ Thomas said.

‘I haven’t gotten into the details of the Edom experiments yet, but it does seem like a lot of the subjects died,’ Christopher said. ‘I’m not yet sure if any ended up with powers, and if so, the intended powers.’

‘Keep us informed,’ Thomas said. ‘We need to get closer to Alastair if we want to track him, so we’re leaving.’

Christopher tilted his head. ‘Then I’m coming with you,’ he said. ‘Henry just finished making a portable version of his machine. I’m sure he’ll let us borrow it if it’ll help find Alastair.’

Thomas hadn’t thought that possible, but it might become an important asset, especially combined with his sensitivity to magic. Did it work with all magic or just Lucie’s? Alastair had never said there was a difference but his magic had been different than he was used to for him too. He had drawn in Thomas rather easily and unintended, it was possible.

‘I’ll start readying the airship,’ Cordelia said. ‘Pack whatever you need, but be fast. We can’t let Alastair and Rostam wait.’    

@alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @astriefer @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @bottomdelioncourt @ikissedsmithparker

[milkywaydrabbles]

The fact you switched to a computer just to add onto my ask is such an honor. Some creators don't like deep questions so I'm glad you took it in a positive way to inquire about your perspective on the characters. I remember this sanzu fic i worked on (way back when🤣) that had him entirely infatuated with this woman and how he basically found a partner who was the positive Ying to his chaotic Yang.

It delved into his headspace on how he completely didn't trust her because he can't trust anyone in this industry, but in the same breath isolated their relationship to protect the little sanity he had left.

They painted him as an extrovert with this social battery and I thought that was spot on with your explanation of the fact he most likely takes uppers to cope with his PTSD. But when he's with his S/O he was able to be quiet, just enjoying each other's company and having little moments of normalcy that he overlooked as essential in life (like head rubs, a cooked meal and even words of encouragement).

The end was mikey not trusting sanzu or his "kept secret" and basically told him to kill her off to test his loyalty. He did it with no question and mikey was content then went about his day as normal. I wish I had the link! Because the rest of the fic delved into sanzu recognizing his descent BACK into the madness that existed without her stability to escape to. He no longer has someplace(someone) to escape and it translated into how he had been given this little sliver of normalcy and yet he gave it up (again) to live side by side in mikeys world. He ends up dying in in a shoot out but smiles because he ends up hearing the voice of his S/O saying "it's okay haru, you did your best. Come back to me?"

He's truly a trip of a character, so many layers and it's a shame he was only a focus in the last Arc of the series. So many good characters in Tokyo Revnegers that didn't get enough screen time for me!🥹

Sorry for the long rambling again! I didn't even get to ask my follow up question on how dark you like to get in your writing? Do you adjust it based on the request or more on the character?

All the love,

-🐇 Anon

OH MY GOD THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD????? if you ever find it I would love to read the whole thing I'm such a sucker for characters like Sanzu REALLY!!!! I do wish he had more time to develop even though I like the backstory we got I think diving deeper into his character development would have been really cool.

As for your question, it's kind of both!! I don't take reading angst very well, I'm a super emotional type of person so when I read something and it turns sour or the miscommunication trope happens I want to eat my own teeth lmao. Apparently that doesn't really apply to my writing because that's I guess the only way I know how to write??? I of course take requests into consideration when writing blurbs or ficlets but depending on the character that's being asked of it might take a different turn. I personally don't think someone like Ran is capable of committing the same atrocities as someone like Sanzu, same comparison with Kakucho and Hanma, so the severity of what I'm writing will change depending on who it is? It can be the same request, take kinktober for example, the dubcon one I wrote for Rindou (still one of my favorites I've written tbh) might have gone drastically different if it was dubcon for Hanma or Sanzu.

LOVING YOUR QUESTIONS THANK YOU SO MUCH