#I'd been puzzling how to answer for ages

[outoftheirdifferences]

“What are you doing?” from Classic Steven to Connie :3c (two-sides-halved)

Send “What are you doing?” and I’ll randomly generate what your muse catches mine doing

7. Yelling at nothing in particular

"AND another thing! I know I've said it before, but the Archimicarus love interest thing was bad enough in the books, but WHY, in all the worlds, did anyone think it was a good idea to turn it into a love triangle??? I could have gone my whole life without seeing him and Frederick fighting over Lisa and been perfectly happy!

"You had ONE JOB, and that was to not be a terrible adaption! How did you possibly fail so badly?!"

It was only as she paused for breath, her rant to the world in general done for the moment, that Connie noticed her best friend's presence.

"Oh, Steven--"

She felt her cheeks warming. Embarrassed less that he'd caught her in the middle of a long-pent-up rant, and more that it had been a rant against something she knew he didn't feel the same way as her about.

"I, um. I made the mistake of finding video clips online of the Spirit Morphs Saga anime adaption," she confessed with some sheepishness.

[eternal-armin]

SO, HOW SHOULD i begin this?

this is the first time i'm going to do a multi-part fic that goes beyond like 2 or 3 parts (rip to the chandelier fic.) bear with me ;;;; but i'm obsessed with everything everywhere and i wanted to do something with the abilities evelyn and joy specifically have. and, of course, the angst that can come from it. looked over this as much as i could but im exhausted so my apologies for any errors ;;;

pairing : five hargreeves x male/transmasc reader [he/him pronouns]

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where : five is instantly intrigued by the eighth sparrow, a kid just like himself, which makes him try to seek him out specifically; nothing better than a second opinion about time from another person who knew its intricacies, right? well, he... may have gotten more than he bargained for.

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warnings : future mentions of trauma, fighting and injury (specific mentions of choking), existentialism, reader is just exhausted of life and shit in general, future cheesiness and such because i said so, depression, a whole lot of 'if i can bend reality to my will then how much does it really matter' kind of questioning (later on for the most part.)

the disheartening sight of seven other people—ahem, sorry, and one very confusing cube—was made endlessly puzzling by the appearance of a kid behind them. someone who looked five's age. physically, anyway. they both seemed equally entranced by the other; the kid's eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted, as if seeing someone he had been missing for decades. he furrowed his brow a bit, cocking his head, and klaus found himself peering where five glared.

"well, would you look at that? they've got a little brother, too!"

"zip it, klaus," he hissed, though with a certain degree of gentleness in his voice, even excluding the volume he had to use. looking back at the balcony, he was wearing more casual clothes with a sort of... varsity jacket of the sparrow academy's traditional colors and emblems. he was a sparrow, meaning he was born in 1989, meaning he was around thirty years old. so why did he look thirteen? it clicked then, suddenly; his power could have something to do with time. five felt instantly that he needed to speak with him. and if it needed to be done by force, then...

hands crossed neatly over his lap, barely restraining that very obvious agitation, ben chimed in with, "dad, who the hell are these assholes?"

a chorus of "shit" rang out amongst the umbrellas. five stared at him with the same amount of emotion as usual, mostly overrun by confusion, however his sentimentalities ended there. that balcony, barely a few yards from where five stood, held something—someone, rather—that could be an answer to his predicament. or at least help figure out if he could retire or not. if this world was safe enough to stay in. there was a whole host of colorful characters. if he was the sparrows' number eight, what exactly inspired reginald to adopt him as well? or was it just sort of a convenience thing?

luther stepped forward along with klaus. "is that really you?"

no amusement struck ben. if anything, he somehow managed to look more annoyed.

"and who are the weirdos on the balcony!"

"they are the sparrows. my children." reginald's controlled, vaguely irritated voice was such a contrast to diego's harsh tone.

much to five's chagrin this moment was a bit more important than staring at a boy. he turned on his heel, narrowing his eyes at the old man. "i'm sorry, what do you mean your children? that's not possible, old man."

"of course it is! i think i'd know, wouldn't i?"

well. something was very wrong, wasn't it?

the sound of footsteps and shuffling caught his attention and yet again he looked back forward; all of the sparrows once situated haphazardly on the balcony now stood across the tile threshold. the kid was shorter than he expected, in all honesty, and he seemed to be the least serious out of all his siblings—not to say that he looked like he was having fun or that he was laughing, but that he didn't want to fight. he looked like he would avoid it at every cost.

"everyone else can see ben, right?"

"cute hat, sundance."

"they call themselves the umbrella academy," reginald interrupted, "a group of scheming, perfidious malcontents who accosted me in the fall of '63 when i was away on business in dallas. be warned—they claim to be my spawn." all throughout reginald's little schpiel, five and the other kid maintained eye contact, five puzzled at his existence and him puzzled by five's puzzlement. he seemed to find it weird but, oddly enough, he didn't seem weirded out specifically. occasionally five would glance about the rest of the sparrows, gauge them if he could, and when that happened he would sometimes catch the barest glimpse of the kid looking at two of his sisters with confusion.

should i be worried? he was probably thinking to himself.

with five on his opposition? absolutely.

"claim? look, five, what the hell is going on?" allison sounded like she was moments away from boiling over.

"not sure yet, but it's concerning."

"is he telling the truth?" seeming to sense the steadily-rising tensions, the kid started, very slowly, to back away, retreating to the furthest reaches of the carpet before the battle had even begun.

"not the part about us being perfidious." vanya seemed to kind of placate that cowardice in him. maybe he even smiled at vanya.

"no! no, we're amateur-fidious, at best!"

"but we are his children, this is our house."

"yeah, we grew up here."

"yeah, yeah, we grew up here," alphonso mocked, getting a snicker from jayme, however the kid just shot them both a slightly judgmental look.

"i kind of think we would've noticed you," sloane said, to which luther stated his name and offered out his hand. sloane did not accept, really she didn't do a thing, and some whispers broke out amongst her and her little brother, whispers that five couldn't make out.

"okay. none of you belong here."

"oh! well, then. i guess we'll just pack our bags and move out."

christopher babbled and chittered, milking chuckles from his brothers and sisters. five had to say he looked way better smiling than frowning, though he figured it would probably be the same for anyone.

grace came in to the living room, heels click-click-clicking, holding a plate of cookies in her hand and apologizing that she couldn't do better. five couldn't catch the precise details. it was just kind of nice to see her again, even if she was certainly in need of a... few repairs.

"mom." diego's sentimental mumble caught some of the sparrows off-guard. the kid included.

"she's a robot, you perv."

"it's not a robot."

"don't call him that!"

"or what?" ben challenged.

"come closer and find out." bickering broke out between the two families, vanya and marcus actively trying to keep everyone's heads on straight, and five may have lost track of the conversation. until ben threw the first punch, anyway. he ducked back, watching as luther next was flung like a ragdoll across the room, landing on and breaking the poor couch. he saw the boy duck out and wanted to chase but first kept his loyalties, attacking ben and getting lost in a flurry of sharp punches and occasionally-failed dodges.

"you're alive. that's—great, or possibly horrible, i haven't decided yet."

"is that some weird kind of smack talk?"

"it's more of an existential problem, really, ben."

"awesome. well, here's your next problem." with his arms extending back and torso leaning forward, a grimy tentacle quickly burst from his chest, though not fast enough to stop five before he blinked away and onto the balcony.

"y'know, even though you're a total asshat now," five began, rudely cut off by another attack which he yet again evaded with ease. it was easier to land a punch and he watched as ben crashed into the ground. "it's nice to see you again. really." after seeing a particularly disturbing scene between diego and the cube, he stepped in to save allison from a few of the other sparrows, yet again finding himself on the second-floor balcony.

"thanks," allison managed through uneven breaths.

"no problem." both standing up, both dusting themselves off, they saw someone rounding the corner. it was him. still, that look of passive pacifism remained, now somewhat stoic in nature; he didn't want to fight, but he may need to. he was resigning himself to that fact and five could see it in his setting expression. and most importantly, there was also endless loyalty. oh, well.

five furrowed his brow, readjusting his jacket. "go help the others. i'll handle this one."

his new opponent almost seemed to space out, eyes narrowing just a bit as if being flooded by tons of new information. with grace and precision, and certainly speed, he set into a defensive stance. five blinked behind him to try for an attack and it was blocked. he continued to block, evade, block, evade, as fast as five tried to attack. the only sounds he made for a while were little grunts.

every failed punch and every successful block was adding to five's aggravation and his exasperation.

"y'know, five," he said, and hearing him speak for the first time startled five terribly, "delores wouldn't like you fighting like this! i'm not doing anything to you!" that shocked him so bad he misfired a punch but it landed for the first time because of how he went to dodge. he was weaker than five first surmised, falling onto the ground, and five continued to strike him back down until he was pinned and unable to move. he looked enraged, face twisted, eyes wide, teeth bared and gritted, glaring daggers at the kid, who looked to be in quite a bit of pain.

"how do you know my name?!" he barked. "how do you know her name?!" five got no answer and that was endlessly more irritating. the kid slammed his hand onto the ground and grabbed the first thing he could, a small piece of rubble, but five watched as, in those few fractions of seconds, that small piece of debris turned into a metal candlestick.

a metal candlestick.

the moment five saw that, he teleported, reappearing just a few feet away. he pushed off his total confusion; no time. the kid kept the candlestick in his hand when he fumbled to stand, not getting even a moment before five tackled him into a headlock. he didn't think twice about the look of pain on the kid's face because that wasn't exactly imperative and he didn't hesitate at the sounds he made.

the kid raised the candlestick again and five watched in subtle horror as it flitted between many different forms, each punctuated by a small sound and a bit of light. he only recognized a few of those hundred forms before he saw it land, like a wheel of fortune, on a knife and he plunged it down. five jerked out of the way of the blade. even though he had once been so hesitant to fight, so afraid of hurting other people, he seemed finally able to push that away and actually defend himself. he may not have been particularly strong, but he was swift and flexible while wrenching himself out of five's grip and adept at landing hits that would still make five flinch and pause. the kid blocked a punch and the moment that they came in contact with each other, the world around them... changed.

from the slightly destroyed upper floor of the academy house, it became an office building, papers flying about while people panicked about the violent fight between the aisles of cubicles. in that moment of confusion, he landed a hit on five, right in the gut. after a pained second, eyes squeezed tight, he grit his teeth and kept fighting.

the office building had become a high-rise skyscraper that they were fighting on the edge of.

another punch and they were on the deck of a cruise ship.

another block and they were in a spanning parking garage. the kid advanced and forced five to back up, closer to the edge of the space, and certainly to a painful fall. he continued to evade every attempted hit, no matter how five had calculated them, before pouncing on him and shoving him right out of the concrete monolith, plummeting down toward the ground along with him.

"how the hell are you doing this?!" five shouted, voice swallowed up by the shouting winds. he grabbed his shirt, bunching up his collar tight enough to cut off his breathing. the panic in his eyes welled up very quick.

and then they were back. instead of hitting the hard pavement ground, five lost all the air in his lungs when he thudded onto the carpeted academy floor, gasping for a second as the kid scrambled away from him, coughing and wheezing.

five hadn't even strangled him for that long, what the hell?

five forced himself to sit, to stand, shooting the glare to end all glares at the boy across from him—however he didn't attack yet. after all the disorientation he felt from those few... transitions, he wanted to keel over and vomit. he was in no condition to fight. luckily, however, neither was his opponent.

killing the kid would not get five his answers, no matter how badly he wanted to do it.

the kid was on the ground, propping himself up on one of his hands, his entire body seeming wracked by pained, nauseated tremors. he looked to be heaving, expression conflicted, exhausted beyond exhausted. he held his head the way one would when suffering from a bad headache.

his question went unanswered, which just served to annoy five further. "are you a time traveler or something? no. a multiversal traveler? do you work with the commission? that's the only possibility i can think of." knowing about delores, knowing about his name, certainly knowing his past, instantly transporting both of them to different places, it could all connect to multiversal travel.

but that spacing out part, before he could dodge like some highly trained professional, and that debris-to-candlestick-to-knife part? those still kind of puzzled him.

the kid wrinkled his nose. "that's the only possibility? you've got a narrow range." for someone who sounded so pained and exhausted, he could manage some mouthiness. somehow he sounded more genuine than sarcastic, though. strange. what about him wasn't?

five's eye twitched and his lips pressed hard into a scowl. "a narrow range? a narrow range? my 'range' isn't narrow! i've seen so many possibilities unfold! do you even know what i had to do to get here?" his words hissed with pure venom. that didn't faze his opponent, even whilst he jabbed an accusatory finger at him, as though somehow this was his fault.

"i do, actually," he managed, although still short of breath. "you got trapped in the apocalypse for a few decades, offered a deal from the commission, broke your contract with them and became a fugitive, got back to your family, and have been trying to evade apocalypses ever since. third time's the charm, right, five?" he recounted it all with the cadence and sensitivity of a history teacher summarizing an important, yet complicated, period of time.

"how could you possibly know—stop calling me that! how are you able to do any of this!"

"i'm not gonna stop calling you by your name." he laughed through his words. he laughed.

"is my exasperation funny to you?"

"i-i mean, kinda! do you know how many ways i've seen this conversation going?" five stilled like a statue. "this was the most common outcome. well, uhm, aside from you just killing me. it's just a little funny how you always react the same way." he shrugged a bit, as though this was simply some high school gossip, and not (one of) the most puzzling thing that five had ever been exposed to.

"look," five began, trying to steady himself. "if you don't tell me how you know about me—how you know about delores—this will become a timeline where i kill you. okay? capiche?"

he raised his hands in surrender. they shook. "capiche, five."

"stop. calling me that."

"to even the playing field, i'm [y/n]. there." he sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, checking his hands. yet again he seemed to space out, just for a moment this time, before going through a grounding technique. he looked determined now, not as tired as before, though it did remain rather clearly in his eyes. [y/n] was just a kid again. he looked like a pathetic, sick kitten. "it's my power. i was born like this. you travel through space and time, i travel through reality. all of reality. alternate universes, as you know them. close by, far away, ones almost exactly the same and some with very distinctive evolutionary branches. the further away the world, the... stranger they get. i can see literally any possibility. so i—i fucking know you, five. i know you. i know your brothers and your sister and your in-laws and your niece and every other niece or nephew you could've had. there are so, so many worlds where i was an umbrella, or your friend, or stuck with you in the apocalypse, or... something like that. that's how i know you, and know delores. i was there."

sister, singular?

fuck, why was that his first take-away?

five narrowed his eyes slightly. "you can see every alternate universe," he said, slowly, as if clarifying something to [y/n] when he really needed the clarification for himself.

he nodded. "use them, too."

"use...?"

[y/n] broke into a little smile. his answer remained unknown because their restrained conversation was interrupted by one of [y/n]'s sisters. just one glance and his smile disappeared, staring at five with now-widened eyes, mouthing something along the lines of 'get the fuck out.'

five didn't need to be told twice. a flit of light and he had disappeared to who-the-hell-knows-where.

"who the hell was that creep," jayme mumbled, watching as [y/n] stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. she grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket out of instinct to make sure he didn't fall over.

"uh... someone pretty interesting," [y/n] said, staring at where he'd once been, the flash of bright light still burned into his eyes. he wanted to find him. maybe needed to find him. probably because something in the world was very wrong, even if no other timeline had figured it out yet.

if any of the umbrellas knew where to hide out, it would probably be klaus, right? simple solution. kind of. as long as he could sneak out undetected by his siblings.

a good bit of time had passed when you finally had the chance to scope out the hotel obsidian. you had changed into something more casual and lowkey, sunglasses now balanced atop your nose and a nice light scarf about your neck. music played over your headphones and you wandered inside of the place, stricken with the sight of heavy art deco. it was rather nice, actually, when you took the time to appreciate it. then again, your mind was rather preoccupied with what was probably a very big deal. on the other side of the lobby, in the little bar and lounge area, you could spot a few of the hargreeves siblings. most notably five, now wearing a white bathrobe. soon his eyes glanced to you and you could feel his gaze sharpen. he looked back at his brothers and excused himself, stepping off the stool and teleporting to you before his feet hit the ground.

"what are you doing here," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"i mean, our conversation got cut off earlier. seemed right to continue it, y'know?"

five looked back at his brothers and then at you once more. klaus was staring after him but you didn't know if he recognized you; luther and diego were still totally enraptured in their chinese food.

the look on five's face told you a whole lot; it was critical to him to talk with you, figure things out, because he guessed—and guessed right—that you weren't just here to politely finish a conversation. something weird was going on, whether he wanted to know or not. "alright. okay. fine. just," he grasped your shoulder after a second and then you were both gone, reappearing instantaneously in a room you assumed to be five's. small cot in the corner, bunk bed opposite, and a couch.

god, you wanted to throw up. you clutched your stomach, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute.

he crossed his arms and looked at you. "so where exactly did we leave off?"

you paused to scrub your mind, trying to recall. a few blinks broke the few seconds of spacing out. usually you weren't this forgetful, but, uh, today was an interesting one. "i said i can use those universes and that confused you. and then jayme came around and i told you to leave."

"right," five muttered. "what exactly did you mean by that?"

"well, obviously i can use them for information." your voice was somewhat soft, actually, which was mighty strange to him.

"hmph. how could i forget." five's flat voice was thick with sarcasm.

you managed a smile. "but i can also use them for skills and stuff. the dodging, earlier; i can't really do that here. there's a world where i star in fighting movies and stuff, where i'm good at dodging and i'm fast and flexible, and i can... link my mind, i guess, and use those skills. and the... the candlestick. knife. thing. i can change things to whatever another me is holding. i can change my clothes. i can change reality."

"so, in essence, your mind is able to find every other instance of you across time and space and access them? and... communicate with them, i suppose, in some way or another."

you shrugged a bit. "about explains it. but the—... can i ask you something?" you suddenly sounded sheepish, hesitant, like you were constantly rethinking what you were about to say. five furrowed his brow, a little surprised to see that look on your face, and he really didn't like it.

"depends on what that something is," he responded, speaking cautiously.

you found yourself spacing out again, but this time not to access some alternate plane of existence. every other universe had its own noise, and every other universe was persistently audible; that loud buzz was starting to give you yet another headache. it was probably possible to overdose on tylenol, right? suddenly that constant look of exhaustion on your face was even more obvious to five. for a moment, he seemed almost sympathetic to that. he could certainly understand it, at the very least. "you've got about twenty-eight years of experience on me," you began, forcing your voice to be steady. "do you have any clue how to deal with the, uhm, existential part of it all?" lightheartedness seemed to be a skill of yours. five could respect it.

you doubted, sincerely doubted, that there could be anything in the world to help you from the persistent noise. or from the pain and exhaustion of swatting from world to world to world in the span of thirty seconds during a fight. it was a wonder you were still walking.

"why should i help you with that, exactly? your family tried to kill mine."

"i didn't try to kill anyone. i hid upstairs the entire time. well, uh, almost the entire time. i can be an ally to you guys. i'd... prefer to be allied with you guys." if anyone else in the world knew about the ins and outs of the umbrella academy, five had no doubt in his mind that it would be you and your presumably-torturous ability. it would probably be a smart idea on their side as well, to ally with you.

"before i agree to help you at all, how can i be sure your family isn't using you as some sort of... puppet? some sort of inside man?"

you shrugged a bit after a second. "i wouldn't be a very good choice."

"seriously? do you think i'm stupid or something?"

you crossed your arms, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "no. i know you aren't stupid. and i'm pretty sure that your first choice wouldn't be a 'weak thirteen-year-old kid with a power that cripples him with headaches and exhaustion whenever he uses it,' either. not to mention that said kid can't hear what's going on sometimes because of literally every other sound in the expansive multiverse." the words were sarcastic but the tone was very genuine, almost excruciatingly so.

"i have... so many more questions now."

you shrugged a bit. "i can answer some of them, i guess." considering that you knew almost all the ins and outs of his life, it seemed only fair to share some of yours. you were too tired to steer the conversation back to why you had came. perhaps you'd already forgotten it.

"why exactly are you thirteen? you were born in 1989, you had to be."

"... i chose to stay this age."

"how can you just choose to stay that age?" exasperation met with confusion in a very strange voice of five's. even after all he'd gone through and learned, you were just springing question marks all over the place. god damnit.

"i can manipulate almost every aspect of reality, five," you said, softly, in response. "it's not out of the realm of possibility to stay thirteen. not for me."

five nodded slightly after a second. that nod steadily turned into a shake of his head. "jesus—i should've grabbed some coffee." he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "just give me a second."

"oh. uh, no need." glancing about the room, there was a small corner table, atop it an ice bucket and some plastic cups for water. he watched, for some reason a bit puzzled, as you placed your hands on it. spaced out. and it flitted to a fresh coffee pot and a mug. they seemed like something from a diner.

well, that would make sense, wouldn't it?

you poured him a cup and handed it, still steaming, over to him.

five scowled a bit, staring down at the filled mug, before his sharp gaze landed on you again.

"it's just coffee, five. it's not poisoned or anything. here." you plucked it back out of his grasp and took a sip, waited a few seconds, and handed it back. "see? you're fine."

after a second, he nodded. "right." he didn't find himself bothered by drinking from the same mug you had. he'd done a lot worse things, hadn't he?

"so... what were those other questions?"

after taking a few healthy swigs, he cleared his throat. "your ability—it really taxes you? even after all these years?" five would never admit it, but the coffee was pretty goddamn good. whatever diner your alternate-self worked in was worth a visit, if it existed in this world. "is that why you were shaking and panting so much earlier?"

you felt a bit embarrassed. "yeah," you mumbled. "i trained with it a lot, but, i wasn't very strong to begin with." you sat down carefully on the sofa, pulling a bottle of painkillers from your coat pocket.

"when's the last time you had a dose?" five asked, mug to his lips, shooting you a side-eye.

"... maybe three hours ago. why?"

he clicked his tongue and shook his head, plucking the bottle out of your hands. "not now, then."

"dude! what the hell! i-i need those!"

"well, i can't keep asking questions to someone sick from taking too much tylenol. and you can wait three hours."

you groaned but didn't complain, just settling back against the comfortable cushions. "fine. i'll wait." and you mumbled 'you're just like sloane' under your breath.

"good," he mumbled, sitting down beside you after tossing the pills onto his bed. "you said you could hear every sound in the multiverse. something tells me that isn't a hyperbole."

you nodded a bit and slouched down, trying to figure out a decent analogy. "when you remove a door from its threshold, you can always hear what's on the other side, unless you actively tune it out. just, for me, there were never doors. it was always like this. every single feasible universe is out there, fighting for my attention, almost every waking moment." you recounted with a deep sort of mourning. five couldn't blame you, he supposed. you had been robbed of silence, of pure solitude, of privacy. his heart almost ached for you.

had you been born with the doors off their frames? he wanted to ask, he really wanted to ask, but it was probably going to be way too... private of a thing. personal. from what he could tell.

"and i thought wrangling that crowd of toddlers was bad. i can't imagine hearing everything they do, everywhere, constantly," he mused.

you cracked a smile. it had been a while since you were able to joke around with someone, even if that someone had interrogated you like a police investigator. "oh, it's the worst," you giggled, and he laughed along. "i mean, it's bad enough knowing what your brothers do into their socks, it's even worse to walk in on them over, like, over two thousand times."

"i've known you for a very short period of time, but something tells me that's the worst thing you've ever said."

for someone in a very persistent and terrible bout of pain, your laugh, and your smile, were incredibly bright. five couldn't really say that he was expecting this when first appearing in the umbre—ahem. in the sparrow academy building, but he wasn't exactly complaining. this could be nice. he really hoped it would be, anyway.

silence fell on you two for a while. the overbearing static was starting to edge back in now that you had nothing more to say. the pain was ebbing.

"... something's wrong." you sounded deadly serious, it was horrifying.

"s—sorry?" five felt like he had whiplash after such an extreme diversion from the topic.

you seemed to be fighting that urge to space out a whole lot more. this was important, you needed to stay on track, and yet your stress was doing exactly the opposite of tunnel vision. shit.

five noticed; and he kind of needed you to talk, as fast as possible, so reached out and pinched your neck, successfully getting you to tense and wake up, in some sense of the words. offense was replaced with gratitude in your eyes. "i don't know exactly what. no other universe has figured it out. but you aren't supposed to be here, this isn't your timeline, that's—a very big problem. it could potentially 'rip a hole in space and time.'" five muttered along with you, cussing and hanging his head.

"why didn't you say this first?" he hissed.

"i'm sorry!" you sounded very genuine and he felt rather bad. "i-i—the interrogation and then the pain and then the... getting along with you, i forgot." it was another world, some utterance of 'not normal yet' that brought the thought back to you.

your voice was cracking. you felt far worse than five could ever make you feel.

"... it's fine. it's fine."

"it very much isn't. you know that."

five knew it all too well. he groaned, pinched the bridge of his nose, and downed the rest of his coffee. "fantastic."

"i mean, it may be a problem we can solve." you shot him a smile, a tired and weak little thing, but it did comfort him a bit.

"the universe will really mind if seven dumbasses stick around?" his humor had soured, but it was still there. you felt very guilty, unable to look him in his eyes, shoulders slouched as if defeated in some great thing.

"she's a stickler for rules."

"hmph." he scowled a full-face scowl. "no retirement yet, i guess."

out of all the things you could ever have seen, heard, felt, and known, one thing seemed... important. emotionally, anyway. "if it's, uhm, any consolation... retirement did look good on you, by the way."

he couldn't help but smile a bit. somewhere out there was a world where you and five were friends well into his retirement, be that at his confusing age or his chronological age from 1989, where he was happily retired with no time-threatening anomalous issues to draw him out. even if he was bound to die in this timeline, there was some comfort in knowing many other timelines saw him content. "i'll take your word for it."

[airenyah]

Get to Know Me Tag :)

was tagged by @telomeke, @ranchthoughts, and @callipigio <3

do you make your bed?

not usually. both in my room at my parent's flat and now in my own flat as well i don't have a couch to hang out on and so i tend to spend a lot of time in my bed during the day bc it's more comfortable there. why make my bed in the morning if i mess it up soon enough anyway? i'll only make my bed when i'm trying to feel/look neat (like for example when people who i don't really know come over)

what's your favourite number?

23! elementary school me was veeery creative in choosing this number.... (my birthday is on a 23rd) anyway this number stuck with me and now it's just part of my personality hahaha

what is your job?

i'm a uni student and i don't have a "fixed" job where i'm employed and get money every month, but i have been working at a specific theater every summer since 2022. this year i'm actually the official assistant director. the rehearsals haven't properly started yet, but i've already one or the other task for it. can't wait for june when we're finally starting with the rehearsals!!!!!!!

if you could go back to school, would you?

depends... compulsory schooling that they make you go through from age 6 to age 15?? HELL NO. adult education? catch me taking 434353 courses on 434353 things

can you parallel park?

i don't have a driver's license

a job you had that would surprise people?

i haven't had many jobs in my life and none of them seem very surprising tbh? if you know me, at least i've worked as a graphic designer before, but i don't see how that would be surprising. also, i'm sure that i've mentioned this a few times in my tag ramblings

do you think aliens are real?

i don't think aliens are real but i also don't think aliens are not real. basically, i don't think aliens exist in the way they are depicted in movies, but if nasa came up to me and told me they found some sort of life somewhere else in the universe i'd be like "yeah i'll believe that". the universe is so vast, so it wouldn't surprise me if there really is something out there, but i don't really think about it tbh

can you drive a manual car?

as i said, i don't have a driver's license. but if i did, the answer would be yes. bc as a european you WILL be taught to drive a manual car at driving school. you could also choose to learn how to drive an automatic car, but that's really the exception to the rool. besides, idk what it's like in other countries, but in austria you're allowed to drive manual cars only if you got your license with a manual car. so getting your license with an automatic car limits your options quite a lot

what's your guilty pleasure?

i don't really feel guilty about my pleasures?? i don't always tell people that i'm really into thai bl, but that's less about feeling guilty and more of a "know your target audience" kind of thing.

tattoos?

nope. my brother has a couple of tattoos and he'd love it if i got one (i think he'd like to have a matching tattoo with me), but i can't do needles. but if i ever did get a tattoo, it would probably be something related to sicily. my brother actually has a tattoo of the trinacria

favorite color?

a really shiny dark blue and a really shiny darker red!

favorite type of music?

uhhhh.... good question?? i grew up listening to classical music and i still really like it, but i don't really listen to it anymore. these days i listen to pop music quite a lot? but that's also a very hit and miss for me, bc i tend to get overwhelmed easily with pop music. idk, just show me a song of any genre of music and i'll tell you if i like this particular song or if i dislike it my playlists tend to be full of song i have some kind of emotional connection too, though! so for example, songs that have been in series/movies that i watched or songs that my loved one's have/had in their playlists and that remind me of them, etc...

do you like puzzles?

i don't dislike puzzles, but it's not something that i would think to spend my time with

any phobias?

spiders!! i've had a phobia of spiders all my life. it's gotten a little better now, and how freaked out i am really depends on the size of the spider, where it is, if it's moving, and also how i'm feeling that day. the worst thing that could happen is a spider touching me in any way, so as long as i have enough distance between me and the spider and the spider is stationary, i'm good. i really dislike spiders right above my head, though i also have a phobia of needles. when i was 12 i had to get my blood drawn when i was sick once and i had a panic attack (or something along those lines). i've tried to avoid needles as best as i could ever since... and as a child i also had a fear of vomit. people vomiting still makes me uncomfortable, but at least i no longer run away and hide behind the door of my room hahaha

favorite childhood sport?

i've never been really athletic but i liked swimming!

do you talk to yourself?

in my own flat when i'm all by myself? yeah!

what movies do you adore?

der schuh des manitu is my problematic fave <3 apart from that, i also adore stardust and tangled and the emperor's new groove and i'm also up for marathoning high school musical, how to train your dragon, pirates of the carribean (1-3), and lord of the rings (extended edition of course) at any given point in time

coffee or tea?

tea!!!!! i LOVE tea!!!!! i had a cup of tea only an hour ago!!!! i'm not big on coffee, apart from a cappucino every once in a while which i also only drink when i'm in italy bc i just don't like it enough to spend 3-4€ on it in austria. coffee flavored things are mostly fine, but coffee as a beverage? not a big fan

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

i don't remember the first thing i wanted to be that wasn't a suggestion by my parents. possibly an actress????

tagging @newyearknwwme @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @celestial-sapphicss @cornflowershade @dimplesandfierceeyes @wack-overflow

as always, feel free to ignore!

[hildred-rex]

Hello, I love Hildred Castaigne! He’s such a fucked up unreliable narrator and he also reminds me so much of myself in middle school and I love him for it. What do you like about him?

First off, apologies for taking absolutely ages to answer this! Life happened and I promptly forgot tumblr existed for almost a month. Yay.

Anyhow, I think my love of Hildred is a combination of the factors you mentioned and the absolute state I got into shortly after I found The King in Yellow -- aaand here comes an essay. The last version of this got deleted, and apparently I've taken it upon myself to make its replacement even lengthier.

Hildred is a fascinating character to read and to write, and his opinions on things are (or would be) so different from mine that it's fun to try to puzzle them out. I keep a bevy of fictional characters that I can simulate reasonably well as a way to make myself consider how people get to opinions that differ from mine, and naturally he's among them.

Beyond that, I'm an absolute sucker for hints at a greater world, but only narrow viewpoints from which to try to figure out what's going on in that world.

The weird bits of The King in Yellow as a whole are superb at tantalizing you with smug allusions and tiny scraps of information about what, exactly, it is that the book is named for.

Is it a play? Is it an entity? What happened to the author? ...was the author Boris? (I don't think the author was Boris, but I won't lie that I've considered writing a fic where he was.)

I got hooked on Lovecraft for the same reason, and it's actually what put me on to Arthur Machen (favorite author) and The King in Yellow (favorite book).

Even with all that, I think my King in Yellow interest would have been a passing thing that returned occasionally, if it hadn't been the last thing I got into before my first set of high school final exams kicked my ass.

The tl;dr of freshman year is that I picked the wrong math class and it spent the semester wrecking my self-confidence (and my sleep schedule) before I finally managed to transfer to a better one. (Then I spent second semester picking myself back up.)

Hildred, notably, is self-confident to the point of it backfiring catastrophically on him. He absolutely should not have gloated to Louis, tactically speaking; in this essay I will-

Anyway. Stress is weird, so during finals season and its leadup I had quite a lot of unmarshalled energy that refused to work on what I actually needed it to do and that instead directed itself at my idle pokings at Hildred and his world.

Probably better than worrying about how my abysmal math grade was going to ruin my life.

It didn't, and I came out of the crucible with rather extensive additional worldbuilding. Since I essentially speedran getting invested in the project, I came away wanting to do more of it and... it just kind of stuck?

I mean, here we are several years later and my first impulse is still to name my tumblr blog for him. I've got a rough idea of his extended family back three generations. I have a design for that spring suit Hawberk had that was mentioned exactly once. I am the embodiment of

when it comes to this lol

_____

I couldn't find a good place to fit this in above, but Hildred was also the first time I encountered a story with an obviously intentional unreliable narrator after I'd encountered the term. Not sure how I missed it that long, lol. I spent probably half a decade looking askance at various authors and going "...do you know what you're writing there???"

I also couldn't integrate it anywhere, but I absolutely adore "The Mask." I have Thoughts on Chambers's ability to write romance more generally, the short version being that he writes Lovers™ and not characters and they're thus so wooden they're hard to read, but that he must have been in a position like the beginning of "The Mask" because holy god that is exactly how it feels.

[berry-hwa]

Well well well. Look who returns

WITH A PART 2 OF THE MERMAID AU FANFIC!!! im still not sure if ill continue this. I have a lotta stuff going on. I dont think my brain needs any more plotting and thinking about a fictional idea. Thx. This is more of a lore and info dump that i wanted to elaborate on and because of that it also isnt as long as the first part butt to be fair i planned to cut that down to 2 parts sooo...anyway. Enjoy!!

"Is that enough proof for you, Ichinomiya?"

His bewildered face was very telling. But he actually quickly looked away and closed his eyes, as did the others in panic.

"Okay, okay— cover up, I didn't ask to look at your bare chest."

Her bare chest...?

"...Oh. Right." She looked down at herself. Her transformation didn't give her any more than a tail since it was her true, unadjusted form — so she was left topless. She didn't understand why her tail couldn't just grow from underneath her clothes. "My apologies."

"Gosh, these tails you guys have are so heavy...!" Baba adjusted his hold on her, hoisting her up. She knew he was pretty strong, so the weight of her really must've been something. Or, alternatively, could've been his age catching up to him.

"Actually," she raised her hand, slowly collecting all the water up from her person droplet by droplet, returning it all back into the glass as she transformed back into her human form, "siren tails are usually much lighter than normal mermaid ones, even with how long they are." She explained, looking to Baba to let go of her.

Soryu coughed as he looked back at her human form...with less to reveal this time, "Well...you wouldn't be wrong about that," Eisuke looked over at him with a questioning glare, "why is that though?"

She stared at the man, wondering how to explain this to him and the others.

"Well, sirens evolved to be deft and quick in order to efficiently capture their prey. Their tails are longer and lighter to aid in swimming and their fins have little to no drag under water, to maximize speed. Very much not like the tail of mine which you saw." She quickly answered. And she had to stare at the men's faces, who didn't utter a word in response. Eisuke however, seemed to be really taking everything in.

"...Huh. You really know a lot about this stuff, huh." Baba looked at her after taking a seat next to Eisuke.

"Well, I was born at sea, this is common knowledge to us all. Not to ordinary people, nor to ordinary people with unexplained tails, though." She crossed her arms, locking eyes with Eisuke.

"...Now that I've proved myself," She continued, returning to her task at hand, "any questions you might have?"

Eisuke blinked at her, visibly still puzzled. Did she not give him enough information? Was he going to reject her plea?

"...How am I even supposed to help you and your people?" He began, staring at her very incredulously, "you say I am a siren but I don't know what new information that knowledge gives me."

Goodness. Had he never heard of a siren and what one does? It could explain his cluelessness, though.

"Sirens preyed on sailors by luring them in with their voice and song and dragged them under the sea when they'd get close enough to attack. What do you think you have those fangs for?" She exclaimed, pointing at his mouth, "They certainly aren't meant to be for consuming fish."

Eisuke blinked. He sure was very clueless, huh?

"...I'm supposed to be preying on humans?"

"Just think of it as a food chain. Sirens need to survive too, you know." He blinked even more at that.

"Why were you looking for me throughout these years? Are there no other sirens like me out there?"

"If there were, do you think I'd be standing in front of you now?" She crossed her arms again, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No?" He answered, seemingly thinking to himself.

"Correct." She sighed, looking at the glass full of water. She missed home. "Sirens have been going extinct for decades. If there are any remaining still, they choose to seclude themselves deep under the sea, not even daring to look at the sun above — those sirens live off of the creatures that lurk deep in the oceans, until they eventually reach the end of their lives."

"...Interesting bit of information." Baba interrupted, probably aiming to lighten up the atmosphere a bit. She can't say it worked.

"I've desperately tried to find them myself...but mermaids aren't fit enough to be so close to the ocean floor. Its one of the reasons we can't relocate under the sea and why humans keep finding us." All those days she spent trying to reach as deep as she could before her body couldn't stand any more pressure, before the ocean became so dark she could barely keep on swimming, all in vain. Her last hope in the end was but a siren-turned, ordinary human man.

"So I'm your only chance as of now."

"...Yes, you are." It was actually a bit pathetic to admit that now.

She stared at him as his gaze lowered. This was a lot of information to take in but she hoped he was at least a bit sympathetic of her situation and could offer some assistance in any way. She'd understand if preying on humans wouldn't end up on Eisuke's to-do list.

"Your explanation does give some understanding as to why so many foods have become so unappetizing over the years, if it's not the required diet for...sirens..." Eisuke muttered, deep in thought she presumed. "And everything you've said and...shown here, as insane as it all may sound, seems...true."

"Aren't ya fast to believe her, mister siren." The detective chimed in, getting up from his spot near the window and making way to the group.

"I don't need your commentary over here."

"Would your dick fall off if you were a little nicer to your acquaintances?"

"...pfft-"

"Hey! Who are you to be speaking to me with such words?" Eisuke was very clearly fuming, no doubt a reflection of the power he gained with his transformation. "Watch your mouth or I won't even consider aiding you."

Ugh. How annoying.

"Fine, fine. I'll do my best." For her family.

"Actually, go back to the "who are you"," Baba interrupted suddenly, "is your name actually Misaki? I feel like I got really bamboozled today so I wanna make sure..."

Ah, right, the fake name she gave him and Ota...speaking of, the artist hadn't said a word this whole time. Actually, his whole behavior seemed a bit...off, not very much like him at all, she noted.

"I lied about that. My name is actually Mira." Obviously she picked the first name she thought of but it wasn't a coincidence that she had picked a similar sounding name to the one her family gave her.

"...You said you were from Britain, but you speak perfect Japanese...how is that possible?" Baba questioned. Quite the curiosity he had.

"Well...to clarify, I'm not from Britain, I was born in the sea surrounding the land, but I know some english because I was forced to live above land after my family was taken away."

"Taken away?"

"Killed." Admitting that hurt. "I knew I had to find you after your transformation, so I began to learn japanese in hopes of coming here one day and confronting you."

"You really held out hope that I would be generous enough to help you, huh." Eisuke locked eyes with her, his gaze fierce.

"Was I not supposed to?" She mirrored the fierce gaze of his and narrowed her eyebrows, daring to question him. He could choose to rip her apart right then and there but did she care?...not that much. She had nothing to lose.

"Just saying you might've wasted your time and my money."

Lovely.

"...So is that a flat-out no?" She muttered, already feeling dejected.

"I need to think it over some more..." She breathed a heavy sigh, preparing herself for disappointment, "but, only while you work under me."

What.

"Wha...?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Riiight...about that!" Baba interrupted once more. "Remember how we bought you back there? Yeah...there's no way we're letting you go back out in the wild just like that. I'd argue its for our safety but with all that you've told us, it'd be best for you too!" Did he just attempt to flirt with her amidst that???

"...Okay...and if I stay here, I need to work?"

"Obviously." Double lovely.

She frowned, going over her options. Baba was right even while trying to swoon her, since she was sought after, she couldn't guarantee her safety in the ocean, nor could she stay in touch with Eisuke — and of course, they'd want to keep an eye on her after she witnessed such an auction in the hotel depths.

So really, her only hope was to stay with these strange men for the time being — in exchange for Eisuke's potential partnership.

"What do you say then?"

She sighed once more.

"I'll stay."

Such simple words could never make her think they would change her life overnight.

*************

In the quiet of the night, the angelic artist locks the door behind him as he processes all he heard from the woman, who had now been placed in the room next to his own. Standing frozen against said door, he feared he had zoned out at some point in her talking, but one thing was very clear to him anyway.

He wasn't normal.

And it made him worry.

[fiction-box]

So I just noticed your most recent request (the Felix/Sylvain learning magic one). I was wondering if I could see the reverse? But like not taking place in the same story, if that makes sense. Like the reader (I'd prefer a male one) wanting to learn how to wield physical weapons to protect himself better so he asks Felix and/or Sylvain for help, maybe Ashe for bows as well cause he's a cinnamon roll

As stated in my rules, I only do two characters per request. From the way your ask is written, I prioritized Felix and Sylvain. If you like it, though, then please feel free to send in a separate ask for Ashe! I do this for time reasons and to spice things up (writing 3 fics back-to-back with the same concept without a break is a little draining.).

But aside from that, I'm glad you liked the other one! I have fallen in love with your concept just as much, but my goodness! This took me far longer to complete than I am happy to admit. I am aware that my main issue was synthesizing your request to a male reader, as I find them a little difficult to write for.

Regardless, I want you to love what I came up with! Requests are open, everyone, so don't be shy!

The stories will be continued under the cut.

Felix:

As you pushed open the doors to the training grounds, you weren’t surprised to find the expansive room was almost empty. The afternoon had turned to night, and most of your classmates were either wrapping up in the dining hall or preparing to rest.

Most of them.

"Training again, Felix?"

The blue-haired noble didn’t break his routine, cutting through the training dummies with the precision of a master. It wasn’t hard to admit that his skills were impressive for his age. Truly, the metal seemed to be a natural extension of his own arm.

"What?” he called, “Have you come to drag me elsewhere?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could spar with you."

At this, Felix dropped his sword arm to his side. He turned to you, raising a brow.

“Aren’t you usually preparing for bed at this time? You know that a quick skirmish isn’t going to chase me out of here any sooner, and I’m not about to waste my time with someone who isn’t at the top of their game.”

You let out a laugh, “Trust me, sleep is the last thing on my mind.”

It wasn’t quite true, you were definitely a little tired. Sleep wasn’t an option right now, though. You knew you needed to be here, but as soon as you entered the room, you forgot what you came for. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

It has something to do with Felix, was all you remembered. Useful, as it meant you could keep him here until your memory returned. You hoped it would soon, lest you spend half the night with your feet on the ground.

“What are you waiting on, a map?” He began to move the practice dummy he had previously created a considerable dent in, “Go grab a weapon, unless you intend to fight with your fists.”

Migrating to the rack by the wall, you picked up an axe that looked as though it were in better condition than those around it.

Wrong. It has something to do with this. The axe is wrong.

Great. This was like trying to solve a puzzle whose final picture was blank. The answer was literally right in front of you, you could swear it! But then what were you meant to fight him with? A lance? You didn’t know how to use too many of the weapons within your line of sigh-

“You’ve been staring at that axe for about a minute now. Are you sure you’re not tired?”

Walking back towards him, your focus was entirely on the hatchet in your hand, “I swear, I’m not. I just…nevermind. Let’s do this.”

“Good, just don’t let it get in the way of our training,” the swordsman approached you, already pulling out a coin from his pocket.

“Oh don’t worry, you’re still getting your ass kicked. I call heads, by the way.”

The question in Felix’s eyes left him at your last remark. The coin was flipped, and sure enough, it landed on heads. You would be the first to attack, leaving Felix to begin in a defensive stance.

Both of you moved a few paces away from one another. The axe was familiar in your hands, but it felt wrong tonight as you placed your grip on the wooden base. This was an easy problem to overcome, you knew, as a simple feeling couldn’t detriment your performance too much. Still…

“Ready.” you nodded.

Felix echoed your confirmation once he had taken a more athletic pose, and the first bout began.

You charged forward, a plan in your head as you swung your axe over your head and down onto Felix. He leapt back, then changed his momentum towards you. The blade of his sword slashed once, then twice as you dodged backwards both times. The blade of your own weapon was still on the ground where it had landed earlier, your grip on the pole keeping it exactly where you wanted it to be.

Once more you rushed at him, only this time, you spun the blade 180 degrees on the floor and brought it up and forward. With your momentum charging the upsweep of the wooden blade, Felix didn’t have the time to dodge out of the way. It clipped him in the arm, where his shoulder was attached to it.

“Point,” he called.

Wordlessly, you walked past each other to switch positions. It was your turn to defend from his assault.

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

You didn’t have time to get a full breath in before Felix came forward. He copied your first movement, cutting downward as you chose to defend with the pole of your axe. Successfully blocking his attack, you pushed him back by thrusting the pole that had halted his sword outward.

Unfortunately, he caught his balance before you did. His fast impulse let him drive his sword forward into your chest. Your inability to lower your axe and reset into an athletic stance left you off your center.

His sword struck true, though you could sense he had let up enough of his momentum so as not to knock you over at its poke.

“Point,” you stated.

By the goddess, point you idiot!

Finally, you remembered! Bringing your hatchet with you back to the weapon rack, you exchanged it for a wooden sword hanging on the metal stand.

This did not go unnoticed by Felix.

“...”

“...something wro-?”

“Are you mocking me?” he questioned. The face of the future Duke had contorted into one of disgust.

“No, not at all! This is what was nagging me since I entered. I’m meant to take the certification exam for the Hero class in a few days, though I’m nowhere near ready. I know my way with an axe, but my skills with the sword could use some work. I’ve attended a couple of seminars, so I came here tonight in hopes of actually practicing,” you assured him.

“A smart idea. You can only learn so much without practical application,” he agreed. “You’re not going to get anywhere holding it like that, though.”

Swiftly, Felix closed the distance between you, “Hold your sword out.”

You did so, paying close attention as he adjusted your grip. It felt more natural already.

“Since your main weapon will be the axe, I doubt they’ll care too much about how you attack with it. Just as long as you can block, defend, and dodge effectively, you’ll pass. It takes a certain level of skill to do even that, though.”

“Right.”

He took a few steps back, and you immediately recognized his offensive pose, “I’ll take it easy on you these first few times; it’s more important that you work on applying your fundamentals, which you should have picked up from those seminars, than for you to adapt to countering my style. Ready when you are.”

“Alright. Ready.”

Most of the time, when he attacked, it was all about reading the angle of his sword and countering it appropriately. You were strong from your hatchet training, so sustaining the blocks was child's play. Switching the advantage came harder to you, though. To push back and then add a strike of your own was incredibly difficult while enforcing defenses.

It took a few rounds and a lot of bruises, but you eventually fell into better defensive habits with the sword. You were nowhere near Felix's level (even though you knew he was taking it easy on you, it felt like he was toying with you the whole time), but you found yourself much more assured in your base skillset.

"That's enough for tonight. It won’t do either of us any good if we keep sparring when we ought to sleep,” Felix commented, crossing the room and putting his wooden sword into a sheath that had been discarded on the ground.

A single, stark laugh left you, “Never thought I’d hear you of all people saying- Wait, that’s yours?”

“Is there a problem?”

“I just…didn’t think you’d have brought a wooden sword of all things.”

The swordsman raised a brow, then approached you, “Give me the one you’re holding.”

You did, easily. Then, when Felix took his own wooden blade from its casing, he held it out to you.

Taking it, a small wave of surprise washed over you once you realized it was weighted.

So this must be how he remained so agile when he used a real blade.

“What did I expect?” you traded weapons again. Then, you made your way to the rack on the wall to return your borrowed, glorified stick.

Sheathing it for the final time that night, Felix headed to the door while you were still messing around with fitting the sword back into its place.

Before he could leave, you made sure to call out to him. 

“Felix?” you watched his attention snap back to you. “Thanks. You know, for helping me figure this out.”

“Tch, we’ll need to work longer than just one night to fix all that.”

“Ouch. Feel free to lay it on gently, next time.”

“Then save your thanks for after you pass the exam. Besides, who said I was doing it just for you?” he turned to go once more, “Prepare yourself. When I’m done with you, you’ll be one hell of a training partner.”

The doors to the training grounds shut with a resounding echo. You sighed, finally fitting your sword onto the rack. Then, you walked the path back to your dorm.

But as your head made it to your pillow, sleep was hesitant to claim your racing thoughts. Felix’s last words to you were the promise of a trial by fire.

You hoped passing the exam would be worth the price of all the burns.

Sylvain:

“Hey, Sylvain. Mind if I borrow you for a sec?”

You dragged him away from his conversation, the two women he was talking to clearly having begun to turn hostile. You didn’t know what the philanderer had said to them, but you knew it wasn’t good if they were looking at him like that.

“Yeah, we might wanna go a little faster,” Sylvain recommended under his breath.

After some casual speed-walking, you both wound up outside the stables. Much to your chagrin, he actually seemed proud of himself. Some people just didn’t learn, you supposed.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. So, was there something you needed?”

“Yes, actually,” you chose to ignore that he believed you would pull him out of his own mess just to be nice, “I’m working on becoming a dark knight. I’ve got the magic part down, and I’m good enough at the equestrian portion to know I’ll pass. It’s the lance I really need help with.”

“So you came to me?” he laughed. “What, wouldn’t you rather have Dimitri or Ingrid training you? I’m no good-”

“Don’t even try it; you’re not worming your way out of this one. You’re far from last place in your lance skills and you know it. Besides, you owe me a favor.”

He raised a brow, “That still doesn’t explain why you chose me over Dimitri.”

“If it really matters that much to you, I can’t choose Dimitri. His crest supplies most of his strength, so I didn’t think he’d be the best fit for a teacher. Ingrid and Ashe would be okay, but they’re both out on a mission, right now.”

“So in other words, I'm your last pick.”

“Hey, I could’ve waited for them to return if I wanted. I’m in no rush to take the exam until I’m certain I’ll pass,” you countered.

“Then…I’m your first pick?”

You lowered your brows, “Get over yourself and help me.”

The two of you made your way down to the training grounds. On the way, Sylvain kept looking around as though he expected those two women to jump out at any moment.

“Relax. I doubt they’d go train of all things after that encounter. Your reputation might take a small hit, though.”

“You mean to suggest it’ll get worse than it already is?”

You conceded at that point. To tell the truth, you had no idea how Sylvain was still able to pick up women, what with the gossip and rumors attached to him.

Once the doors were shut behind you, Sylvain relaxed a bit more. He instructed you to grab a practice dummy and set it up in the middle of the area. However, once the job was done, the red-headed noble was nowhere to be seen.

I swear to the Goddess, if he ditched m-

A shout of surprise left your throat as you turned around to the sound of a loud thud behind you.

Sylvain laughed, “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you! Everything’s ready now.”

Looking to the ground, you identified a large wooden object in front of your training partner. It wasn’t there before, so it was probably what made the noise.

“Okay…?” you questioned, “What do we do with the battering ram?”

“Oh. That’s your new lance.”

That’s a funny joke. How the hell am I supposed to lift that thing?

You gave him a strange look, “You’re kidding, right?”

He stretched his arms out, resting them behind his neck, “Nope. That’s how my father made me train. He even got in contact with Rhea to make sure at least one of these would be here for me.”

“Seriously?”

You were beginning to have second thoughts about this whole thing, but you were the one that asked him for help. If he was willing to give it to you, you were taking it.

“Alright, then. What do I need to do?”

The Gautier heir picked up the ram with ease, walking over to the training dummy to demonstrate.

With him talking you through it, you pieced together that the plan was for you to stab with the ram, then swipe horizontally both ways before finally swiping vertically both ways. Each portion of the exercise was to be repeated twenty times.

“Go ahead, give it a try.”

Thudding on the ground once more when he set it down, the battering ram lied in wait as you approached it.

But even picking it up was a challenge. Both of your hands were on the same handle as you yanked upwards to no avail.

“Sylvain, there’s no way I can lift this.”

A huff of air left his nose in a chuckle, “Probably should’ve guessed that. No offense.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s why I'm here, after all. Any other ideas?” you asked.

“No, no, this could work. Here, you take the back handle and I’ll hang onto the front.”

Together, you managed to lift it, though you were surprised at how much of the work you felt yourself doing.

Sylvain guided the direction of your swing while you did the actual movement. It was a pretty effective system, if you were in any position to say, and you could really feel it in your arms. Nonetheless, you refused to let up. The two of you went through the motions until all of the reps were finished. After your first set, however, a short break was in order.

“Of course, this won’t just be a one day thing. It’ll take a couple weekends to really get results. Feel free to let me know when you need help, and I’ll find time to make it down here to work with you,” he offered.

So it was. Over the next week, you both made it a habit to train with each other after lunch. Eventually, you were able to get through the routine without him. He would still be sure to make an appearance, but at this point, you weren’t exactly sure why.

Once you felt closer to ready, the two of you met up about three days before you were scheduled to take the exam. This time, Sylvain handed you one of the practice lances and instructed you to do the same exercise.

Immediately, you noticed an improvement. The motions were so much faster, and your hits had become so much stronger than before.

It seemed your “teacher” noticed it, too.

“Great, now let’s put it to some real use.”

Sylvain picked up a wooden lance of his own while you moved away from the training dummy.

“Go easy on me, yeah?” you laughed. “I’m not exactly used to this new strength, yet.”

“Don’t worry, my crest won’t activate during something like regular sparring.”

You noticed his defensive stance. He was prepared for you to attack.

Best not to keep him waiting.

Adjusting your grip, you made your way over to him. You moved your arm to act out a horizontal swiping motion, but you didn’t actually go through with it. Reading his backwards dodge easily, you didn’t let up on your charge until after he had caught his jump. Then, you used your momentum to poke forward.

“Agh-! Yup, that one’s definitely yours,” he grunted in suppressed pain, “My fault for anticipating, though.”

“You good to go again, or…?”

Sylvain plastered on a grin, “Nah, I’ll be fine. I can handle a little bruise.”

If he didn’t want to do anything about it, you certainly weren’t going to force him anywhere. Round two it was.

This time, you both went back and forth for a bit until the poles of your lances were locked in a stalemate. You were so focused that you didn’t notice Sylvain stick his leg out until he had swept your feet from beneath you.

Thinking fast (as mages always did to avoid getting hit), you used the energy of falling to create the momentum that allowed you to roll away from him. Getting up fast was going to be the key to winning this bout.

Not a second too soon, you were on your feet and swinging your lace around your body until it halted just before hitting Sylvain’s side, who was still running toward you. He noticed immediately and stopped his advance.

“That’s your point, too. A bit unconventional, and I have no idea how you’ll recreate that on a test…”

“Well there’s no way I can control what happens on the test, right? If it’s just sparring, then sparring practice is the best I can do.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sylvain said matter-of-factly. “One more, or should we call it a day?”

You recalled how you jabbed at him square in the chest during your first bout, and then how you just barely managed to avoid hitting him in the second.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “I’m a bit tired today. Besides, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Sure. Well then, see you here again tomorrow.”

He left you behind to clean everything up, but you didn’t blame him. He probably would have given away how bad his injury was if he tried to bend over anyway. Classic Sylvain, who could never manage to fool anyone but himself.

Placing the lances back where they were meant to be stored, your thoughts turned to the future. The exam that had once felt like a huge barrier now looked merely like a step on a staircase. You knew you had Sylvain to thank for that.

Maybe you’d get to it eventually, but for now, you’d stick to showing your thanks in other ways. Whether he noticed it or not.

[animehouse-moe]

Undead Girl Murder Farce Episode 11: Where The Wolves Dwell

Well, it took 11 episodes for it to happen, but I'd say this is the first episode where I'm sufficiently whelmed. I don't think there's anything too crazy going on with the direction of this episode, nor really the degree of the story either. Rather, it feels impressively par for the course. And that's not really a bad thing when you consider the baseline, and doubly so when there's still quite a bit to talk about.

Right away, I feel like the use of visual storytelling certainly remains strong. We start with a flashback of Rosa while she was still pregnant being subject to some trial by her village. But that's neither here nor there, what I'm more interested in is the details of stills such as this one.

You can tell that the walking stick has worn down the stone over time, which implies the fact that the village elder has been using this trial for quite some time, even further back than this view into Rosa's past. Just a very cool little piece that while adding impact, also adds significant detail.

Following that, we begin to display the various curiosities that this episode has to deliver (so long as we skip over how we arrived at this point in the first place). The girls of the werewolf village detail a similar string of murders taking place "within" their village, under eerily similar circumstances to that of its human.... counterpart.

Anyways, alongside the matching requirements for a murder to take place, there's a few disparities that have occurred. The first is that when Nora talks about each of the murders, the visuals displayed are not devoid of color, nor are they accompanied by heavy and ominous music. It causes the pair of sequences to contrast each other to a surprising degree.

Originally, I thought ages were to play a significant role in these initial batches of three, but there is discrepancy between the ages of the girls from each of the villages, so that is not true.

However, there is something that adds up. Nora is the only girl of the werewolf trio to not be wearing a necklace that indicates they are a priestess. The girls and women of the village may only wear it once they turn thirteen. Oddly enough, Louise is also noted to have been just shy of turning thirteen before she was abducted/murdered.

The piece that causes confusion, is that Nora appeared in the werewolf village when she was four (or about 8 years ago), while Louise's earliest instance of "disappearing" was one and a half years ago. So what could be the connection? It's hard to say, really.

But I suppose the simplest piece is assuming a connection between Alma and Nora. Blonde hair is entirely unseen in the droves of denizens in either village, and neither having a family and being transplants in their respective villages makes things seem odd. But then, what is the connection with Louise? It's a puzzle that goes around in an endless circle, so I suppose I'll talk about another piece that's been introduced.

Rather than the grisly murders of the human village, the ones in the werewolf village are perpetrated with a shotgun, which has also stated to be presumed to be using buckshot.

Viewers know there's only a single weapon out in the wild in these mountains: Gustav's old shotgun. It disappeared prior to the murders in the human village, and now we know why. It paints a very curious picture. Just what is going on here? Is Jutte fighting a battle on both sides, as both werewolf and human have forsaken her? Is she attempting to spur each side into a battle of mutually assured destruction? It's very odd, but so is Nora's accounts of these murders.

Apparently, not a single gunshot was heard from the murders. So, is it truly a shotgun causing these murders? Once more, it's hard to say. It feels like we're a single piece in the puzzle away from discovering the answer to this question. We know for a fact that the girls were killed in their human forms - if they weren't, they would have remained in whatever form they assumed (Rosa's skeleton remains in the same form she died in). We know that they were likely killed on the same nights as one another, but that the werewolf and human children couldn't have killed each other as the werewolves died in their human forms. And most of all, we know that the fourth deaths occur to deeply similar people.

Nora and Louise, oddly familiar characters. Both sporting blonde hair, both with aloof and reserved personalities. Both dying before their thirteenth birthday. Both breaking the habits of the killer(s).

With Nora's death, the whole village is able to hear the gunshot coming from the forest on the West side of the village. The side that Nora said she would lure/bait the men towards. Of course, that bait never happened. Did Nora purposely head towards the forest on her own, or was she captured beforehand?

Regardless, we get to see Shizuku try her hand at being a detective, and it falls short. She confirms that Nora was wet before she put clothes on, and that the hole in her chest (not her head like the others) was not from a shotgun.

However, further in she notices marks on a tree that resemble buckshot. Upon inspection, the marks are still warm from where the blast made impact.

So why, for the very first time, was a shotgun heard? Why was it used on a tree, and why did the reasoning behind Nora's murder, much like Louise's, differ from that of the rest?

With Louise's side, Jutte's motive speaks clearly. Jutte could have been wronged by the girls in the human village, with Louise taking the cake, but what about the werewolf village. What would she have known about a place that she'd never known?

Although, I suppose it isn't much of a stretch, considering that Jutte would have been able to exist in the village at some point, or perhaps even be Nora herself. Yes, it's a crazy theory. However, the night on which Rosa's mother died was eight years ago, Nora only appeared in the village four years ago, and did so on her own. We know that Rosa mistook Louise for her daughter at one point, so it's pretty clear that the two bear resemblance to one another. With that in mind, while it's a crazy theory, it's possible that Nora was Jutte, but that doesn't explain why she chose to die on this night.

However, it seems like most if not all will be revealed with the next episode.

Overall, as I said to start, it's certainly a whelming episode as opposed to an overwhelming one, but the mystery runs so deep and is so curious that you hardly notice. There's some off model moments, a bit of funky animation here and there, and a rather noticeable lack of creativity as compared to the prior episodes. But, it is not bad, rather it's far from it. It's a good episode, a surprisingly good one when you consider it's Lapin Track, it just doesn't live up to the incredulous nature of the prior ones.

[formulatrash]

hi! if you don’t mind talking about it, how would you say being autistic has shaped you working in media/journalism? just curious bc we’re obvs all different, as are our traits, but i feel like a job in that area would be so at odds with my experience of my autism and i was wondering how you feel about it <3

been meaning to answer this for ages and then there's autism discourse (one of the worst five discourses) on twitter and I suddenly remembered about it.

as you say, everyone's experience and traits are different. and I didn't know I was autistic until I was in my late 20s, so have a particularly different experience of it. so, this is not 'how all autistic people would experience it' it's just like, how I find it.

I'd also say there is an extremely high prevalence of neurodivergence in motorsport journalists. probably journalists generally but particularly motorsport. but mileage varies across all of that, of course.

things that make it hard: I struggle with, for instance, asking visibly upset drivers for interviews. it makes me feel sick with empathy (it's not true autistic people don't have empathy, we often have too much) - but I don't think that's a bad thing. tbh I think there's too much emphasis on trying to be hard on interview subjects and it's like, what do you expect to get out of this?

conversely, I think it helps with interviewing drivers other people can't. I get interviews other people don't and there's people who'll talk to me when they won't talk to others. so, that's a mixed bag.

it's difficult in terms of the job being social but honestly I don't know how much that's being autistic or being a woman. you get excluded from stuff a lot but I don't think that's because I'm not friendly or can't make friends. stuff like drinks receptions or whatever is difficult, especially in places where it's sensorily overwhelming but like, that is what it is and it's not technically a necessary part of on-the-clock work.

where it doesn't help, at all, is some social media stuff. I can get wound up and overwhelmed relatively easily and I find it hard to step away from things. meltdowns are just, well, meltdowns and I am chernobyl in that respect. it's not, y'know. dignified or acceptable and I've never worked out a balance of how to remove or protect myself from it; obviously being autistic doesn't mean you have meltdowns on twitter but for me it's definitely one of the things that I can't cope with as part of being autistic.

it also... I know I would be bad at TikTok because I don't smile and I'm not expressive. that sort of to-camera Insta story and TikTok stuff, I can't do and it frustrates me a bit because that seems to be the only way to get traction and it's also tied up with male journalists not having to do it and oh [pulls duvet over head]

anyway; other ways it helps are the travelling, for me. I know some autistic people would not have this experience and might find it overwhelming but I can memorise huge chunks of stuff, like airport layouts and maps of cities and use the puzzle-solving bit to figure stuff out even when I can't read a language. I'm an information sponge and can process it quickly - which can sometimes make situations overwhelming but so long as I'm travelling on my own I'm quite good at retreating into myself to deal with that. (I can't stand travelling with anyone who faffs around, it's the absolute worst. do or do not there is no faff)

I can grasp topics easily and complex stuff goes into my brain fast (and stays there) which is helpful for the tech stuff. some of that is that I am smart in that specific way (which is not the only way to be smart, obviously) so

I don't think my mental health is dogshit because I'm autistic, I think my mental health is dogshit because I have a laundry list of trauma that, honestly, it's quite impressive I operate despite of and try to be relatively kind to myself about, with mixed success. but sometimes it is also affected by being autistic; I can be very sensitive to things that other people don't think are anything and upset myself for days. sometimes, even though I am very highly trained to understand cues, I don't and then I'll misunderstand something and upset myself.

some things, like being nervous to email pitches - well, it's just cus emailing pitches is fucking scary as hell to everyone. a lot of stuff about motorsport journalism (or anything, frankly) is just scary and hard and complicated and it's the same for everyone. sometimes it helps that I have a ruthlessly efficient bit of my brain that deals with things like accreditation systems, sometimes it makes me feel like shit because I'm anxious and paranoid about what's been used from filming I've done and whether I missed obvious cues that they were going to fuck me over.

so: a mixed bag, I guess. and it would be different for everyone.

[chordsykat]

Would it fall into spoiler territory to ask the what where when why and how about Eden’s super sheltered persona? Those ask prompts with Eden’s answers seeming so oblivious to the world has me curious! Of course, if spoilers they be, feel free to say no!

This is a whole can of worms, and you guys will learn a bit more about her as Dethkomic goes on -- so I won't spoil too much of what isn't already out there...

However, there are things that I can totally reveal right now, and especially as it pertains to how I wanted to develop her...

That said, I'll put a cut here in case even that amount of spoiler is too much. :)

When the past scenes in Dethkomic are taking place, Eden is somewhere around 10 years old, I'd guess. Charles' hostel manager, Emily, says this:

Most readers guessed correctly that she was referring to Eden. Also, extra kudos to those of you who pointed out the secret bio-weapon Lars Luder was developing goes by the name "Project Dragonfly", which indirectly references her - the dragonfly being her totem animal.

Eden was orphaned at a young age under mysterious circumstances. The letter in the panel above says "The sisters", implying she was under the care of some sort of Catholic-run orphanage/school at the time. I am not sure if it's important enough for me to explore how she came into Orpheus and Valentina's care, but if you recall these panels from earlier:

...Dr. Necrophagist was fresh out of college then, and it seems Project Dragonfly had perhaps been abandoned, according to Charles' informant. And he wouldn't lie.

...unless he was trying to throw him off the trail... Which, hey - Orpheus seems to have managed to find himself as one of the girl's primary caregivers these days. Sure that's just a coincidence, though... right? Regardless, Lars Luder having a vested interest in the prophecy would seem to imply he's wise to the idea of Eden (potentially) being a piece to that particular puzzle. And as you'll see in the coming pages, he was right to think so.

Luder is one rich bitch, and he funds Eden's upbringing up to (and past) the day he dies. While alive, he seems to throw his whole existence (including his family) away on pursuing things like magical girls with super powers, insane experiments, and recruiting armies of people to become his followers. It's quite ironic, considering who he turns out to be, actually.

But then, that's a story for a few updates down the line. And Eden grows up in various institutions until coming fully under Orpheus and Valentina's care. By then, she's not only been revealed to be magically endowed as a healer, but a gifted guitarist, too. Orpheus finds himself as obsessed with The Prophecy(TM) as Lars once was, and you know the minute he finds out all of that research has been pointing to Dethklok playing a pivotal role in it all, he is going to start hatching a plan to get close to them. Luckily, a certain opening act just happens to be looking for a replacement guitarist so they can continue their tour with the boys, right around the same time.

All that said, Eden's not really treated as anything more than a convenient way to gain access to Mordhaus. Had she not shown any skill on the guitar, in fact, it's likely Val and Orph would have dumped her and moved on to trying to get Dethklok's attention, by themselves. They're clearly not impressed with her healing magic the same way Lars was, and by the time they all pack up for Mordland, it's probable they're not betting on her being connected to the Prophecy at all.

So you have this girl who has grown up with no real parents, passed around from place to place, possibly experimented on, treated like a lab animal, definitely sheltered away from much of the outside world, and suddenly given an amazing opportunity to not only tour with the biggest band in the world - but for the first time ever, have real friends and a life of her very own outside of four sterile walls (and the very occasional visit to the park and, I'd wager, out-of-doors at large)? I mean, there's culture shock, and then there's untangling indoctrination, and then there's what Eden's going through - which is kinda like finding out water is wet for the first time. :D

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: All of the girls in Baen-Shee play this sort of opposite-but-equal part to their reciprocal member of Dethklok. Eden and Toki may be the most up-front of them all, I guess. They're both the youngest members of their bands and are in a band for the very first time - both have a sort of "secret badass" thing going on - both have some real trauma to work through when it comes to things like isolation, rejection, the world at large and profound loneliness. Even the thing with Toki "killing" things and Eden healing them is the same, in a way. They both speak to the same "entity" (death). Their messages are just different, is all.

The author, too, admits to taking Eden as more utility than person, sometimes. Remember the Baen-Shee quiz? This answer to this question is "the Eden one":

Anyway, I'm guessing that was more than you wanted to know. :) Actually, it might be none of what you wanted to know, hehe. Either way, it was fun to sit down and write about Miss Nightwish for an hour, and I'm always happy to spout on and on and on when you guys want to know more about my characters. I very much appreciate the question, Anon, and I promise - there's SO much more to come. :)

[mimisempai]

I wish you could stay a little longer 1/6 

Summary

Each time they have to separate, the more the centuries pass, the more Hob wants to ask him to stay. A little longer, a few seconds, a few hours, a few days, but he never succeeds. Each time he tries to make himself more worthwhile to make his stranger want to stay, but he always ends up leaving.

or

Five times Hob doesn't dare ask Dream to stay and once he doesn't have to.

Notes:

It was supposed to be a one shot, but considering the length I preferred to cut it along their meetings. See, even canonically, their relationship is based on a fanfic trope, the 5+1...

On Ao3

Rating T

A hundred years' time, on this day?"

The stranger nodded without answering, a slight mocking glint in his eye.

He wanted to play?

Hob could play too. 

He smiled brightly, confidently, and replied, "I will see you in the year of our Lord 1489, then," then raised his glass in his direction.

The stranger continued to stare at him as he walked away, still with that slight mocking look on his face, and Hob did not look down.

When the door closed on him, one of his friends asked, "Who was that, then, Hobsie?"

Hob took a sip of beer and replied, "Haven't a clue." 

Then he smiled and said mockingly, "But tell you what, I'll ask him in 100 years' time."

The whole table laughed heartily at Hob's joke.

But as everyone continued to laugh and drink, Hob looked toward the door where the intriguing figure had just disappeared and his smile faded a bit.

What if the man was serious?

A hundred years later, as he recalled that conversation, Hob was no longer laughing.

Not with the same friends anyway.

No longer in the center of the room, but in an alcove.

Because when you didn't age and your friends did, it wasn't good to be seen.

And although he had indeed lived longer, much longer than he should have, he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the stranger coming towards him and sitting at his table.

As if nothing had happened.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As if it hadn't been a hundred years since they had last seen each other.

But Hob needed to know, that is why he could not hold back the stream of questions that came to his lips, "How did you know... that I'd still be here? Who are you? A wizard? A... a saint? A demon? Have I made a bargain with the devil?"

He was well aware that he was rambling, but he had so many questions.

The stranger looked at him impassively and replied simply, "No."

Hob looked at him suspiciously and continued to question him, "Then why aren't I dead long since? Is this some kind of game?"

The stranger, though he had this time what might be called half a smile on his lips, replied in an equally terse manner, "Not a game."

Hob, undeterred by his brevity, continued to question him, "But why? Who are you? Why are you here?"

The stranger finally replied, "I'm here because I'm interested."

He had once again saved his words, but it was still odd.

Interested in what?

Hob replied, puzzled, "In me?"

The stranger answered again in a few words, "In your experience."

Here we were. 

He was finally going to know what price he would have to pay for not having to die.

He knew that.  That nothing was ever free.

Hob asked, on guard, making himself smaller in his chair, "What do I have to do?"

The stranger just answered once again, "Nothing. You live your life as you choose. Then on this day, every 100 years, we will meet."

Hob, a little skeptical of this answer, asked, "Because you wanna know what it's like?"

The stranger merely nodded.

Hob leaned over and whispered, "All right. I'll tell you what it's like."

For the first time since the beginning of the meeting, the stranger seemed to show some kind of emotion. 

Oh nothing obvious, just a kind of curiosity.

Well, he was about to be served.

Hob replied, "It's fucking brilliant."

Oh... oh it was the mysterious stranger's turn to be surprised.

Did he think Hob would tell him he had hated it?

He explained, "It's all changing."

The stranger looked almost bewildered-at least in his range of expression that was the best match-and asked, "In what way?"

"Um..." 

Hob thought for a moment and pointing to the fireplace behind him, he exclaimed, "Chimneys. Not having your eyes watering all the time from the smoke."

Apparently his stranger was not thrilled with this change so Hob, ignoring his reaction or lack thereof, continued, "And now we have these little cloth pieces for your nose. In the old days, we just used our sleeves."

Apparently this didn't arouse the stranger's interest either. He even rolled his eyes as they were interrupted by the exclamations of a group of men not far from them.

Hob said animatedly again, "Oh. And playing cards."

Clearly his stranger was not enthused and did not hide the annoyance in his voice when he asked, "What will you people think of next?"

Hob was used to condescension. 

When you live beyond your time, you form a shell towards that kind of behavior. So he jokingly replied, scratching his crotch ostensibly, "With any luck, something to get rid of fleas."

Apparently the stranger was getting impatient and did not appreciate his humor. He asked him in a slightly more insistent manner, "But what have you been doing for the last hundred years?"

So Hob told him, in an honest way, what his life had been like, "Um... Same as before. Soldiering, mainly. A little banditry here and there if I couldn't find a war.  Uh, but now, I've started in a new trade. It's called printing."

Hob was excited because it was something completely new and he was eager to see it evolve.

The stranger seemed to be listening carefully this time. 

However, Hob did not dwell on the sense of pleasure he felt at the spark of interest in the stranger's eyes.

After all, he didn't need his approval.

He didn’t, right?

He continued in the same passionate voice, "Don't need to be a guild member, not yet. Uh, never be a real demand for it, and it's hard work, but it beats the hell out of rotting to maggots in the ground, eh?"

Well okay, now he was forced to dwell on the fact that his heart began to beat faster when the stranger graced him with a look and a smile that looked approving. 

So Hob returned the smile as the stranger asked, with what sounded almost like wonder in his voice, as if he himself didn't believe it, "So you still want to live?"

Hob resumed a serious air and replied no less passionately, "Oh, yes."

Then the stranger rose abruptly, and, lowering his eyes to him he said softly, "A hundred years, then?"

Hob replied again with a smile, this time, "Oh, yes."

With that the stranger slowly walked away and Hob, realizing he still didn't know who he was, called out to him, "You never told me who you are!"

But the stranger didn't turn around and kept walking toward the door.

Hob didn't want him to leave. 

Stay.

I still want to see that spark of interest in your eyes a little longer.

As the door closed on the stranger, Hob made a promise to himself.

Next time, he would be worthy of interest.

Next time, the stranger would have to recognize his worth.

Hob had never backed down from a challenge.

Next time the stranger would stay.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Dreamling Masterlist here

[nonspeakingkiku]

hi kiku! how are you doing? i don't really know what to say but i saw your inbox was empty so here's an ask :]

is there anything you've been wanting to talk about but just haven't had the opportunity to? any stories you've been wanting to tell? there's nothing in particular i'd like to ask about so i figured i'd just open up an opportunity to talk about anything you like :D

Kiku thought Kiku answered this way before now but Kiku will talk about Kiku's new OC/sona Puzzle. ☺️

Puzzle is a holland lop red fox hybrid. Kiku is working on a drawing of fae right now. ☺️

About Puzzle

Age: Adult (but fae has age dysphoria due to their autism and trauma and fae doesn't really feel like an adult, even though they are physically an adult)

Gender: Genderqueer/fluid, autigender, trans masc

Pronouns: Fae/Faer primarily, He/They/It auxiliary. Interested in canine and lapine themed neopronouns.

Orientation: Queer, aroace spec, nebula romantic.

Conditions: EDS, nonverbal autism, dyspraxia/apraxia, chronic migraines, learning disabilities, adhd, POTS, Fibromyalgia, and more Kiku can't think of right now.

Disability aids: Puzzle is a forearm crutch, walker, and wheelchair user as well as an AAC user. Fae also uses things like ear defenders/ear plugs, chewelry, and other sensory aids as well as visual schedules and other visual supports.

Fae is an omnivour although their diet is limited due to arfid/sensory issues. Faer parents were very confused when their bunny child started eating chicken and fish once older (Puzzle mostly drank shakes like pediasure for a while because they couldn't handle the textures of most foods). Although considering Puzzles family was primarily canines they weren't exactly sure how to handle a bunny in the first place.

Puzzle is trans and chose faer name faerself. Fae chose it because fae loves puzzles and before fae learned about faer autism he felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle to why he was the way he was.

Puzzle never talked much unless they had to, and mostly they just struggled through and avoided people where they could because their disabilities went unnoticed and they would be forced to speak, eventhough the people enevitably got upset because they couldn't understand Puzzles mouth words. Puzzle started using AAC informally during highschool (mostly texting and writing things down with people who accepted that) and spent much of their time alone to avoid using mouth words. Eventually as an adult he got access to robust AAC.

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

Part of the convocation- Miguel Diaz x reader (sneak peak)

Summary: reader is Johnny's long-not-so-lost-step-niece, and she need a new roof over her head, so she finds herself back in a Dojo with him as her sensai once again.

A/N: this is just the first few paragraphs, figured I'd post it to check the water and see if anyone else finds this interesting.

Update: The full part 1 is out!!

------

Deep breaths. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I clench my hand into a fist and raise it, placing it in front of me, fully ready to knock on door number 2 that's right in front of me.

After all this time, I don't know if John would even know who I am. If he'll recognize.

"Hey, you must be John Lawrence. I am (y/n) (l/n) but my mom's maiden name is Lawrence, Maya Lawrence" I repeat the lines I planned in my head once again, "that name might sound familiar, because she is your step-sister, from sid's old marriage. You may know, he is no longer with us, and neither is she" the voice in my head keeps going. "Okay, you got this" i mumble to myself and knock on the door.

"Hey, you must be-" I start, but the person in front of me looks way too young to be my mom's step brother. He has dark features too, and from what I remember John is a white, blond-haired, blue-eyed guy. His dark hair fall on his face messily, and his brown eyes had a kind look to them. "-not the person I was looking for, I'm sorry" I say, giving him half an awkward smile. "Uh, who are you looking for?" He asks, returning a half smile. "Diaz, who's at the door?" A voice calls from behind. "I dunno, this girl who's looking for someone" the dark haired boy who I assume is Diaz answers. "Is she a babe?" The voice calls, and Diaz lets out an unsurprised sigh. "She looks about my age, Sensei, so maybe you'd wanna take that back" Diaz calls to the mysterious older-sounding guy in the apartment. I assumed it's his dad, but after that last sentence I am not as sure. "Oh" the man says as he finally steps in my field if vision. 

The man I see in front of me is a tall, white, blond-haired, blue-eyed guy. He looks at me, confused. I guess I am staring, after all, the last time I saw this man was at my Bat mitzvah - my dad is, or I guess was, Jewish. He steps closer, squinting his eyes at me as he switches places with Diaz. "Hey, you must be John Lawrence, I am (y/n) (l/n) but my mom's maiden name is Lawrence, Maya Lawrence-" I start, but he cuts me off with a hug. It took me by surprise, honestly. "Lil (y/n)! I can't belive it, it has been forever" he says, and I hug him back. "Uh, sensei, who is this?" Diaz asks from inside the apartment. 

"This is my step niece, (y/n)" John explains, "(y/n), this is Miguel, he's my student, and my girlfriend's son".

"Hi" I say, waving at Miguel, he waves back. "So, what brings you here? Are your parents here too? I think I owe them an apology for your Bar matzvah-" "it's Bat mitzvah, I'm a girl, and-" I correct him, but he keeps going. "- I was in a bad place back then, and-" he says as he's looking around for the car I got here in, but no success. "Where, uh, where is the car? Your parents?" He asks. "They are, uh, over there" I say, pointing at the sky. He looks up, "on the balcony? There is no one on the-" John says in confusion. "Sensai, I uh, I'm sorry" Miguel looks at me with a sad smile, "I think she means that uh, they are in the sky". "What, Like, On an airplane? How did she get here before-" john says, and Miguel stares at him until the puzzle clicks in my step uncle's brain. "Oh, oh! They are  dead!" John says, a bit excited to realise, but then the realization really hits. "Oh, they are dead" he repeats. "I'm so sorry, kid. Are you staying with sid now? Did he send you here to get that glass statue I stole? Cause I don't have it, I pawned it to pay for this guy's surgery" John says, pointing at Miguel. "What?" Miguel and I mumble, confused. "Um, actually John, I was staying with sid, but he died and you are the only relative I have. Social services tried to contact you, but there was no answer, almost like you don't have a phone" I explain to him.

"I don't have a phone, I threw it on the beach!" John says, pride in his voice. "O..kay…" I reply, "anyways, John, I was wondering If I can stay with you" I finally get to what I was trying to say for the past few minutes. "Sure, yeah, sure thing kid" he says, "come on in, I was just cooking for me and Diaz". I walk behind him into the apartment. It's messy, and smells like beer and whiskey. Of course it is, what else should I expect from good ol' step-uncle Johnny.

As they cook, we chat a little, and John tells me all about the Karate-gang thing, and how his Dojo is bound to win. "Actually, this is perfect timing for you to arrive, we need a girl to kick some asses for Eagle Fang" John says. "You want me to joking your Karate gang?" I laughe, but he look as serious as can be. "Well, of course, I mean you already got moves, I remember you kicking that kid right in the balls at your Bat matzvah" he says, mispronouncing the biggest, most important even of your life once again. "I kicked him is because he kept asking where bat-man is and claimed it was false advertisement" I laughed thinking back at that night. It was all going so well, until John had one, two, ten drinks too many. "And I landed that kick because you trained me. I was your first student, I think" I say, and they both look at me, expecting me to accept the offer to join Eagle claw- no, not claw, fang. "But I bet you I don't even remember any Karate moves" I say quickly. "No, no, karate is like riding a bike" Miguel says. "After my injury, I thought I'm never gonna get back to it, I thought it was doomed. I thought I will never kick ass again, but with the help of sensai here, it all came back in an instant, my instincts were as sharp as ever and my kicks as precise as they were" he opened up as if we didn't meet nearly 15 minutes ago. It looks like these two had a connection, like my step-uncle is actually there for him. Good to know I wasn't mistaken to come here. "Fine" I say, "I'll join your convocation". "You are already having a conversation with us" John says. "Uh, john, convocation is a cloak of birds" I explain. "I knew that" he mutters, making the plates for all 3 of us. "Thank you, (y/n). I'm sure you're just what out team needs" Miguel smiles at me, and I can't help but think it is a cute smile.

[dear-future-ai]

https://www.tumblr.com/dear-future-ai/721898013182820352/dear-tumblr?source=share

same anon as previous, following up on this. bit hesitant to respond to this, but I am a scientific researcher myself and respect your curiosity/pursuit of knowledge. especially as this has been a topic of interest to me lately, because truthfully, I just recently had this experience in a major way. I don't want to share my specific medical history, so I'm going to use the Triarchic Psychopathy Measure (TPM) for reference rather than specifying DSM diagnoses. I prefer to talk about psychopathy as a personality facet rather than talking as if it were a distinct clinical diagnosis. In the cases of myself and the other people I'm mentioning here, I think it makes more sense to view it as normal variation in the human population rather than as a disorder. On the bell curves of certain measures such as empathy, we would fall toward the very far end. I hope this is clear and coherent enough to get my point across, I'm pretty tired at the moment.

I have been with my SO for 6 years, and these aspects of our personalities were a significant thing we initially connected over when we met. On the TPM, I score 156 (of a possible 174) when keeping my answers as accurate as possible, and selecting the lower scoring answer whenever I'm torn between two (i.e. choosing "mostly true" vs "true" whenever I feel it could go either way). This is compared to a mean of 62. My SO scores 144. SO is also a few points lower than I am in the three scales of Boldness, Meanness, and Disinhibition.

in terms of personality, I would describe it as two different "types" of psychopathy. our traits manifest and play out distinctly differently, we approach problem-solving differently, etc. SO was the first person I ever knew who I could relate to in a meaningful way, and we shared similar past experiences that only reinforced that. we love each other and care about each other to an extent, but we both know that it isn't quite the same feeling we see in other couples. we've openly talked about this and it's not an issue for our relationship. SO has a greater capacity for genuine empathy than I do, though not by a lot. we are both completely capable of cognitive empathy, of course, and honestly better at it than most people we meet.

now here's where things get a bit more in line with your question: a while back, my SO and I were recruited by an organization for employment which would have us working together 24/7. we have another "team member," so to speak, who over the course of getting to know each other and living and working together 24/7 under high pressure circumstances, we naturally became close. We both view him much more as family than any of our blood relatives. he and I in particular click - I would say we are the same "type" in the same way I said my SO and I are not. all 3 of us have discussed this and came to that same conclusion. he and I understand how each other thinks on an eerie level, we approach challenges and puzzles the same, we handle problems the same, weigh out tough decisions the same, etc. I see him as my brother in the most literal sense. it feels as if we grew up together even though we actually had very different childhoods (not to mention the ~2 decade age difference).

I had already kind of noticed that I had more emotional responsiveness to anything - good or bad - that he experienced than I was used to. Then, the day he got the phone call bearing the worst news a parent could ever have to hear, I was not prepared for just how hard that empathy for him would hit me. I felt his pain and grief and rage to what is, for me at least, a very intense degree. I have more empathy for my SO than anyone I'd known before, but this was another level beyond that. that hasn't changed since then. I'm intensely protective of him, I cannot entirely separate his burdens from my own, it improves my mood when he's in a good mood, etc. Close family, like those twins who are also best friends, is the best comparison I have to try to label the dynamic.

It very much took me by surprise. Honestly it took all three of us by surprise how fiercely we've bonded and come to care for each other. I don't know if this would or could have happened under different circumstances tbh - it might be the specific and unique details of our circumstances that produced this result, idk. I wasn't sure what to think about it initially, but now I think I'm glad it happened.

Definitely much different situation from the last person, but a similar answer to my question I suppose. Which is great news. I'm sorry for your friend's loss, and for the grief and distress you personally went through. I do appreciate you sharing such personal details of your experiences to better get an understanding of just how unfamiliar, unexpected, and volatile these emotions were for you.

I'm also glad you were able to have a true friendship that was that close and intimate.

[breitzbachbea]

I just remembered a vent drabble about Tahir's insomnia, which I never posted here. Written while listening to "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead" by Set It Off

"Maybe it's all hopeless," Tahir said to himself in the dark.

He felt his heart jump, but no other muscle move when he heard the rustle of sheet and an unexpected answer.

"What do you mean?" Robert asked.

Eyes half lidded, he stared into the dark. The puzzle pieces in his head wouldn't fall into place.

"Why are you still awake?" he asked instead.

"Could ask you the same." He felt the bed vibrate under him. "So what's the matter?"

Tahir stared. He sighed and leant his head back into the pillow slowly as his hand went to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know how much time I've got left," he finally answered.

"To do what? Usually you don't shut up, now I've gotta pay for each word?" Tahir slowly rolled his eyes, but even before he was finished, Robert cleared his throat and his tone became softer. "Sorry handsome, I know it's not easy." He put his hand on Tahir's stomach.

His movements were as agonizingly slow as his thoughts, but he took Robert's hand into his own.

"You know," and finally he was able to string together more than one coherent thought, "I think that sometimes, I am much like a machine that has run its course. That my sheer existence as a human has a limit."

"I know it's been stressful lately."

"Yes, but how often has it been stressful? How many times of it being 'stressful' can this mind and body take?" He looked at Robert, though he barely could register anything in the dark. "Perhaps I wasn't made to last."

"What do you mean by 'to last'?"

Tahir looked out the window. He listened to the sounds of the city into the night. He didn't know why the curtains weren't closed as always. "I guess I mean to live past a certain age."

Silence.

"I mean, unless the stress is gonna kill you, I don't think that's true." A moment of quiet. "Take it easy."

"It's not quite within my control. And if I can't handle what life throws at me, then.." Tahir raised his eyebrows and shrugged his head. "Well, then maybe I wasn't made to live."

"It's gonna get easier again. I don't think people work like machines, in that sense... anyways."

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You didn't. If you won't sleep and need to stay home tomorrow, that'll be alright."

"I doubt it."

"Because you think everything hinges on you. C'mon, we have failsafes for this. And we need you to 'last.' Both, because, you know, you're clever and... I don't know Tahir, but I'd have a pretty big hole in my life to fill if you're gone." He squeezed his hand.

In the midst of the vast emptiness of his chest, a spark of warmth appeared for a moment.

His tongue felt leaden once more. He rolled his head to face the other. "Oh, Robert... "He said softly and with all the fondness as every last nook and cranny of his husk of a person packed.

Robert kissed him on the lips before he let go of his hand. "I'll sleep now. Till morning, handsome."

Tahir just watched as he turned around again. He stared at the wall as he listened to Robert's even breath.

[elshells]

Agent Ace Chapter 7 || HARLEY -2-

Rating: Teen + Word Count: 1,906 Content Warnings: Reader discretion is advised. Click here for a list of potential warnings; only #1 applies. Summary: Now caught in the fray, Harley is questioned about the incident at Jade's apartment. While she attempts to clear herself of any involvement in the crime, she comes to a realization with horrifying implications.

↤ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

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June 22 Unknown Time Hub District - Skylar: The Watchtower

"Miss Manalis, we have some questions for you. Do you think you could give us some answers?"

The interrogation rooms in the Watchtower were built like boxes—brightly-lit with blank, windowless walls that closed in on Harley from every side. She wore no handcuffs or restraints, but she was still trapped under the gazes of the Watch agent and the Guardian sitting across from her.

Sophia's warning was the only thing on her mind. Don't trust the Watch.

"A few hours ago, you arrived at Miss de Soto's apartment." The Watch agent scratched his beard, scruffy despite his neat dress and appearance. "When you got there, did you—"

"How is Jade?" She hated how small her voice sounded.

The agent smiled. "She's doing fine. Our doctors have her under observation. But all of her injuries are relatively minor, and we suspect she'll make a full and quick recovery."

"Th-that's good."

The Guardian cleared her throat. Harley recognized her as Jester, the Guardian of Atwood, though she suspected the alias was meant to be ironic. She was known for her stern, humorless demeanor, and even now, her gray eyes were cold and severe.

"The question is," Jester continued flatly, "when you arrived at the apartment, what did you see? Anything out of the ordinary? Perhaps a suspect fleeing the scene?"

Harley shook her head, sitting forward with her shoulders hunched and her eyes glued to the table. "They were gone by the time I arrived. The door was locked, but once I got in, all I—"

"Wait." The agent cut her off. "Locked? The door wasn't open?"

"They came in through the window." Harley showed him her bandaged hand. "There was glass everywhere."

He gave her a puzzled frown. "The window?"

"I think so. They must've."

"How?" Jester demanded. "That window was on the second floor."

"I know." Harley folded her arms across her chest and fiddled with the tips of her hoodie strings. "But they didn't come in through the door. I'm positive."

Jester stood, planting both hands down on the table as she loomed over Harley. "Miss Manalis, are you trying to imply that you broke down the door?"

Harley blinked. "Uh, yes?"

"A locked door? By yourself?" Jester's expression hardened. "I hope you understand why I find that hard to believe."

"I know it sounds crazy!" Harley said desperately. "Believe me, I don't know how it happened. One minute, I was banging on the door, and the next, I was in."

Jester said nothing, her gaze burning down into her. Harley ducked her head. "The lock could've been old, I don't know," she mumbled.

After what felt like ages, Jester nodded and lowered back down into her seat. "Admin, write this down."

The agent—Admin—began to scribble furious notes on a clipboard. Harley's pulse tripped. If they couldn't fathom the thought of her breaking down a door, surely it was just as unbelievable for her to pull of a murder. But what was she supposed to do if they didn't believe her?

"I'd like to move on," Admin said, in a tone that implied he was just as uncomfortable with this topic as Harley was. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of her. "We found this on the Guardian's body. Does this mean anything to you?"

Harley reached for the paper, shooting a glance at Jester. She dipped her head, coaxing her to go on. Harley unfolded the paper until it lay flat on the table. It was a note, handwritten so neatly it could have been typed, and it was addressed to her.

Harley, heed the Minotaur's call.

"We believe that the perpetrator planted this on the Guardian's body after he died," Admin told her. "However, it's addressed to you. What can you tell me about it?"

"Nothing." Harley shoved the note away without looking up. "I don't know what it means."

Admin sighed. "Well... did you know the Guardian?"

"I-I don't think so. I didn't recognize him. I don't even know his name."

"So if you didn't know he would be at the apartment, what prompted you to go there in the first place?"

"Because... what?"

"You shouldn't have been there at all," Jester interjected. "Your mother claims she had no idea that you left the house, and you've given no explanations for your secretive behavior. So, let me repeat the question—what were you doing in Miss de Soto's apartment?"

Sophia's words rang in Harley's ears. Don't tell anyone where you're going. Don't call the Watch. But you can trust me.

Don't trust the Watch.

There hadn't been time to question her instructions. Just the thought of Jade in danger was too dire for her to ignore. But why would Sophia, a Watch agent, tell her not to trust the Watch?

What if Harley couldn't trust her, either?

"Miss Manalis." Admin's tone was gentler than Jester's, but just as firm. "We need you to understand your situation. Right now, you are our only suspect in this investigation, albeit purely by association. You have no alibi, and we could even consider you as a witness. If you are keeping secrets from us, we—"

"There was a warning!" The words exploded out of Harley's mouth. "I thought someone wanted to hurt Jade, so I left to help her. I swear, I had no idea about the dead Guardian!"

Admin and Jester exchanged silent glances. Harley sat still, her heart pumping in her chest. After a short eternity, Jester looked back to Harley and asked, "A warning? From who?"

She took in a shaky breath, then let it go. "My sister, Sophia. S-Sophia Colbo."

"Sophia Colbo?" Admin repeated. "As in, Watch agent Sophia Colbo?"

"That's the one."

Jester leaned in closer. "What did Agent Colbo say to you?"

Harley paused before she answered. One wrong word and she'd slip further down into this hole. "She left me a message on my phone. She told me about a package on my front porch, and that I needed to see Jade. She mentioned that her life and Max's were in danger. That's why I thought Jade was in danger, too. I-I didn't want her to be the next to... you know. Disappear."

Admin sat back in his chair. "That's... concerning, to say the least. Did Agent Colbo sound distressed?"

"Yes. You can listen to the message. She said she was almost out of time," Harley said. "But it didn't sound like her. I mean, it was her voice speaking to me, but the words all sounded stilted. Like... like..."

Like someone else fed her those words. Like someone else forced her to say it.

Someone else, not her. I was listening to someone else.

Did I make a huge mistake?

She looked over to Admin; he didn't force her to continue her thought, but the knowing look on his face made her think that he understood.

"If you knew something was off, why didn't you contact the Watch first?" Jester asked.

Harley sighed. There it is. "Because she told me I couldn't trust the Watch. She said I could only trust her, and I believed her."

And look where that got me.

Jest furrowed her brow. Harley bowed her head; it was painful to keep looking her in the eye. "Is it true that you haven't been able to reach Sophia?" she asked quietly. "Do you think she might be in trouble?"

Jester opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut and clenched her jaw.

"We don't know," Admin admitted. "A couple days of radio silence isn't usually enough reason for concern, but given Sophia's complicated history and everything else that's happened... well, all I can say is that I wouldn't be surprised."

"Thank you, Admin," Jester said curtly. "And thank you for your cooperation, Miss Manalis. This information is eye-opening."

"Thank you." Harley dipped her head politely. "So, am I free to go?"

"Not quite. We have something for you."

Jester nodded to Admin, who set a small black box on the table and opened the lid to reveal a slim metal bracelet. He gestured to Harley. "Give me your hand, please."

"What is that?" Harley asked apprehensively as he undid the clasp and fit the bracelet around her wrist. It snapped shut with a click.

"We're keeping track of your movements," he replied. "You will not be restricted, for now, but it's important that we monitor you for a while."

"Why? I didn't do anything wrong!"

His gaze was sympathetic. "This is protocol, unfortunately. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it's just as much for your own safety."

"Or you don't trust me."

Jester's mouth tightened into a thin line. "You are still a suspect, Miss Manalis. There may not be enough evidence yet to call you guilty, but your connection to this case is undeniable."

Harley's insides shrank; it was stupid of her to talk back.

But at the same time, Sophia's voice continued to sing inside her head: Don't trust the Watch. Don't trust the Watch.

Why can't I trust the Watch, Sophia?

Jester stood tall in front of the table. "I need to find Maverick. Someone has to explain this mess to him. The girl is your problem now."

Maverick—the Guardian of Dantary. Harley wondered what he had to do with the investigation. Jade's apartment was in Aylor, but maybe the dead Guardian had been Maverick's protégé. Or maybe Sophia was last seen in Dantary. Not that anyone here was willing to divulge that information to her.

Ahren might know. She had to remember to ask him later.

Jester turned on her heel and left the room briskly. The door slammed shut behind her, and Admin let out a sigh.

"Well, uh, it looks like the interrogation is over," he said to her. "So, you're dismissed, for now. I'll escort you downstairs to meet with your mother, and I encourage you to take this time to rest and recover from this morning's events. It would be best if you stayed close to home until we learn more. And if we have any follow-up questions for you, we'll be sure to reach out."

Harley nodded, barely listening. Admin ushered her out of the room and closed the door behind them. As they began the long climb down the staircase of the Watchtower, she dropped her gaze to her wrist. The bracelet was cool and lightweight, comfortable even. It was easy to forget it was there.

But it wasn't easy to forget everything else. The exhaustion coupled with the confusion, the panic, and the fear. Jade under attack, a Guardian dead. They all haunted her still, branded into her mind. Could she have avoided any of this?

Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to fall. She shut them tight and tried to block out everything that had happened since the phone call.

I'm sorry, she told Sophia silently. I'm sorry.

⬗

NEXT CHAPTER ↦

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[mbti-enemies]

;-;

* So... basically i'm an infp who has always found entjs to be kinda intimidating, but from all i have read about them they seem so cool?? And your posts make them seem even more soo?? How??

Are you friends with entjs and so are they really that dynamic/ maybe intimidating at first, if not then maybe any advice? I do really wanna get along with entjs, i am pretty sure i met one (or an estj) who did kinda 'adopt me' pretty fast, but other than that, ?? What do you do to be more relaxed around them? If it makes any sense??

*Sorry if this counts as an ask, i have just been thinking of this for a while and your blog seemed like an appropriate place to send it. However feel absolutely no pressure to answer!!

💐I wish you both a lovely day either way💐

nope nope you're good this isn't an ask for dynamics and before i continue wishing you a lovely day as well! kinda flattered you thought to send this to our blog

oh yeah and before i start, of course, not all entjs are the same. i don't know how many you have hanging around you right now, but they may not be the ones you can click with! others may not be so intimidating. being super scary is not a prerequisite to being an entj ha and some are more approachable than others

anyways yes step 1. entj's are not cool and intimidating. they may SEEM so on the outside but everyone is human. everyone. obviously. not so much a case of actually exposing the squishy side but just having good interactions with entjs, and anyone, is really not letting their intimdating-ness affect you, they're just people, take them off any pedestal if you can.

(intj edits in italics)

totally get why you feel their intimidating tho , a lot of entjs at first glance seem the no nonsense lets get down to business type but you've got to remember that's j how they initially observe and make judgments regarding the world around them..through an objective Te type lense so yes In that way they are dynamic because the more you get to know them the more you get to see the other sides of them which rlly arent intimidating at all.

it'll help them feel more comfortable around you, and help you feel more comfortable about them. as for what to actually do to feel more relaxed around.... non-relaxing people..... uhm im not sure. that's like a How To Deal With Your Feelings question and that's quite the age old question. i'd say it's like most fears, maybe a fear of performing for example, just do it more often till it feels normal and hopefully by then you'll be able to feel relaxed around them.

also just BE YOURSELF and don't think too much or try too hard..infps and entjs share two functions, Te and Fi but in the opposite order so Te is an infps weakest function but the entjs strongest, whereas Fi is the infps strongest function and entjs weakest, so its kinda like puzzle pieces that fit tgth just write- you guys might be opposites but you compliment each other well and help develop each others weakest areas

in terms of mbti and functions it can always help to remember there's that soft fi squished at the bottom of the function stack. look for glimpses of it? but really it might not always manifest in the best way, an entj's fi could them just easily getting angy at small things. who knows. any help intj? also entjs in the audience feel free to comment ofc