#I'm going to fight every one of you individually even though it's not your fault. I'm going to find Jonny and Alex and have a chat

[theplagueraven]

In honor of one of the funniest set of tags on my last post we've now got TIMOTHY STOKER WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

@galaxiadecima

[karlachismylife]

For the celebration! The Prompt: laying their hand on the other’s leg. The pairing SoapxReader or DammonxReader, you choose! >:3 pls and tyyy

Never ask me to choose again, darling, I'm polyamorous for a reason >< You get both! And also lots of love from me for your support and overall awesomeness <3

Link to the celebration post for anyone interested here!

Emotional Support Dog

John "Soap" MacTavish x gn!civilian!reader

Even the air around you feels charged with anxiety. No amount of meticulously created comfort can tone it down: tucked into the soft corner of your couch, surrounded with pillows, a blanket, a steaming cup and a bowl of snacks to accompany fat stacks of papers to read, you still feel nervous. No one can blame you though: your boss wasn't particularly fair informing you of the upcoming meeting late. Very late. Couple of days before a very important meeting with your place at the company depenging on it - that sort of late.

Goddamn corporate.

So it's not surprising that you're slightly crumbling under pressure to get prepared with all available documentation; maybe they're trying to set you up to be at their mercy or fail, but you're not going down without a fight. Even if the fight makes your knee bounce nervously and the almost-forgotten nail biting come back as your eyes scan one bureaucratic word vomit page after another.

You're so engrossed in the process of absorbing vital information from the bulky speech figures and long columns of numbers that you nearly miss the sound of the apartment door opening and closing - and the one entering isn't even trying to be subtle about it. Poor door suffers a concussion in its core each time it gets slammed shut by the overly excited to be home individual; then follows the jiggling of keys thrown to their place, two hasty thuds of boots being enthusiastically kicked off, and finally - a dramatic pause. Were you a little less busy, you would've already been at the door, right where one hearty hug awaits, arms opened and everything; maybe you would've made him wait on purpose, just to see a sulky pout of an impatient pup light up with pure inner sunlight by your presence; but you can't just pull yourself away from this very important reading.

So in a minute Johnny peeks around the living room entrance, wary expression immediately replaced with a loving glint in the aquatic eyes at the sight of you. In two strides he is already at the sofa, plopping his ass right next to you and nuzzling the side of your face with one, two - three kisses: to the temple buzzing with brainwork, to the soft cheek and to the corner of your sightly frowned mouth.

"Whit are ye doing there, bonnie? Thought ye fell asleep, didnae even come hug me at th' door," here comes the famous pout, eyes full of betrayal boring straight into your soul in hopes of coaxing more kisses and cuddles. Would've definitely worked.

If not for the bloody headache fussing over this goddamn meeting planted into your skull.

You open your mouth with a sigh, planning to answer him - you're going to hug and kiss him alright, just a second, you just have to finish this paragraph, so wordy and inhumanely written that you almost don't doubt it was done by a real person - to deliberately make every reader's of this file head explode. An efficient way to balance the workforce market.

Soap, however, reads into your frowny silence and immediately smells that something's wrong. And it very much might be his fault - even though he did the dishes, took you to your favourite Italian on the weekend, showed impeccable restraint when a guy at the parking lot ran his mouth at you (that prick was lucky Johnny didn't want to start the date with a fight: "Ye better thank tis guardian angel 'ere fur haudin' me back, or ah'd teach ye a lesson, ye sod," - all said with a firm hand placed on the small of your back while you glared at the mouthy motherfucker), folded the laund- oh shite. It was the laundry, wasn't it?

"Bonnie, ye're nae angry at me, are ye?" Johnny tilts his head, trying to catch a direct glimpse at you, and almost shoves himself between you and your reading, squeezing in more kisses. "Ah'll dae th' laundry, ah promise, must've forgotten-" - you finally blink and emerge from your hyperfocused state, immediately cupping the Scot's worried face and planting a loud smooch on his nose.

"I'm not angry... not at you, at least," you give him an apologetic kiss on his pouty lips and look back down at the paper in your lap. "It's just work. Gotta read all this or I'll be in trouble, boss gave me a really short notice this time. It's like they're trying to set me up... sorry for ignoring you, sunshine."

Initial relief on Johnny's face that showed there when you confirmed he didn't get on your bad side (he did fold the laudry after all, just managed to forget that he did) gets replaced with a concerned look once again. Leaning back a bit, he gauges the stacks of papers laid out on the coffee table in front of you and furrows his full brows.

"'N' how long ye 'ave tae read all tis?" - "The meeting's two days away, morning." You rub your neck with another exasperated sigh, and a much larger hand, warm and calloused, comes up to do it for you, squeezing the sore spots and making you shudder as it forces the knots away. How long have you been sitting here, hunched over the papers?

"Steamin' Jesus, tha's a lot of reading tae dae," he mutters, squinting to try and make something out of the corporate gibberish - and inevitably failing. With a sigh, Johnny reserves to kissing your temple again. "Well, shite, nae lik' ye 'ave much choice, dae ye? Wanntae 'ave pasta fur dinner? Ah'll cook."

With a confirming nod and a grateful grunt from you, already deep in the papers again, he raises from the couch that creaks with relief, but then pauses and sits right back down. His big hand finds its way to your leg, squeezing your knee reassuringly and stopping the jittering with warm, heavy weight. You lift your eyes once again, meeting his bluest ones with a net of crow's feet around them, nothing but warmth towards you. This sight makes breathing, constricted by the pressure put on you by the situation, easier.

"Ye got tis, aye, bonnie? Ah ken ye got tis. Ye gonnae show 'em."

With a pat, meant to gently hammer in this confidence in case you were still worrying and doubting yourself, Johnny finally gets up, and your knee immediately feels cold without his big paw on it.

"Ah'll go start th' dinner, and ye holler if ye need anything, aye? Ah heard snoggin's good fur yer brains."

Of course he did. Bloody rascal with his innocent blue eyes winking at you and calming your wired self down. Well, why refuse such considerate service when offered?

Forged Under the Stars

Dammon x gn!reader

The cool of the night yields under the relentless burning of several campfires and torches lighting the clearing your celebratory party takes place at, their heat amplified by mulled wine and other drinks generously shared between everyone present. Sitting close to one of the campfires, you quietly observe folks with genuine smiles on their faces that only add to the pleasant warmth in your chest. It's nice, you think, seeing them relax and shrug off the heavy weight of barely avoided danger. They deserve this small moment of peace and quiet among impending doom, and so do you.

Drunken laughter at one of the barrels people gather for the good ale distracts you, your curiousity piqued as you lazily try to make out what caused the whistling and hooting - some brave soul trying to compete against others in absorbing a humongous mug in one go, perhaps? Whatever it is, it keeps your attention long enough for someone to stumble a bit clumsily and seat themself down with a quiet "oof", warm knee nudging your leg in an accidental move before the person straightens up. Snapping your eyes to the right, you can't help the wide smile tugging at your lips.

"Hello to you too, Dammon," you raise your clay mug as a greeting, taking in the view. The blacksmith doesn't look too out of it, but he's clearly tipsy - you aren't surprised, he does give off the impression of someone easily getting lightheaded from a drink or two. Even the warm orange hue of the campfire can't hide cute rosy blush on his cheeks and pointy eartips; neither manages he to conceal a certain glint in his bright glowing eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbles, probably referring to his clumsy landing, but you just shake your head - he didn't even really disturb you, holding up quite well. Same can't be said for everyone: with another glance around, you notice a completely plastered tiefling maiden try and dance with Wyll, who ends up catching her and preventing a fall after fall for the giggling girl. A quiet rustling from behind alerts you, but even without looking you realize it's just Dammon's tail getting restless, usual reserved attitude lifted by ale or whatever he was drinking.

You two sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching the party and stealing glances at each other, smiles widening and chuckles escaping when you catch each other looking - after one of these accidental eye contacts Dammon and you burst out in particularly loud fits of laughter, leaning forward and shaking your heads. Alcohol makes it so much funnier, fuzzy, pleasant feelings coiling like furry cats in your stomachs.

"Gods above, I haven't laughed like that for a long time," Dammon sits back up and tilts his head back, inhaling fresh night air and watching the night sky. His vision makes the stars shine brighter, and while you watch him instead of the nightsky, you think you see the celestial bodies swirling in his eyes, reflected as if they were a crysral clear lake.

"Not much laughter in Avernus, eh?" Your slightly intoxicated tongue works faster than your brain, and you immediately stutter, cursing yourself for bringing The Descent - of all things, damn it! - up. "Sorry, didn't mean to..."

"It's alright. I know what you meant," Dammon's smile doesn't falter and he tears his gaze away from the sky to look at you. Maybe it's a play of the flickering flame you sit at, but it seems as if his eyes only shine brighter when looking at you. "And you're right, that wasn't... although there was this one time..."

He briefly checks if you're listening and goes off - waving his mug, unusually expressive and talkative, clearly encouraged when you prop your cheek on your palm and listen on. Maybe you don't quite keep up with the amout of terms and unkown words his slurred speech is littered with, but you still laugh, when he puffs his blushing cheeks, reenacting the way some poor apprentice thrown into his forge held a heavy anvil and tried to use it as a hammer when they ran out of those (how does a forge run out of hammers? why yes, of course, when a whole squadron of unprepared for battle soldiers swarms it and takes everything and anything they can use as a weapon. yes, the firepokers too.)

At the sound of your laughter, loud and unbothered, Dammon pauses with his antics and turns back into his shy self, holding his breath and drinking in the sight of you with a surprisingly sober shine to his eyes. Your fit of giggles dies down, when you feel a warm hand on your thigh, barely squeezing, long tiefling claws carfully denting the skin underneath your clothing.

"Thank you," sincerely whispers Dammon, looking at you like you've hung the moon in the skies and lit up the fire in his forge, "for everything. For this night."

He leans in closer, lips slightly parted, something else dancing on the tip of his tongue, something he can't brace himself to say out loud. You smile, covering his palm with yours - his is strong, warm, a hand of someone working hard, rough and with visible burns from accidental sparks scorching through the protective mittens. It startles Dammon, fingers twitching and squeezig a bit harder before he lets go of your leg and moves his eyes away. His ears slowly start glowing brighter, tail swishing behind you and nearly swatting your bum - turns out, it almost coiled around your waits while you two were sitting next to each other.

Unwilling to let his bashfulness to get in the way, you catch Dammon's hand before it slips away and hold it gently, allowing to rest on your thigh again, your fingers almost intertwined.

"I'm glad you're here," there's enough courage in you for the both of you, added in liquid form or coming to you naturally - doesn't matter. Dammon's shy smile grazes his lips once again, and he finally allows his tail to wrap around your seated form, carefully, ready to pull away if you show any signs of discomfort.

You don't.

"I hope we see each other again," with your support, Dammon allows his thoughts to spill out. It's a little bittersweet, a reminder that the celebration will eventually come to an end and you both will have to move on, heavy burdens on both of your shoulders. But maybe, just maybe the knowledge that wherever life chucks you, if there's a forge nearby, you might see a familiar face - maybe that knowledge lifts the weight just a little bit.

After all, this blacksmith has some fine, strong shoulders you can lean on.

If you know anything about the Faerûn traditions, it's that lovespoons are carved out of wood. Unlike that little forged one that you find among your posessions the next morning.

[majachee]

One criticism of LMK I don't agree with whatsoever is that "LMK villainizes Wukong."

It doesn't. It really doesn't. The show's portrayal of Wukong is meant to be a flawed individual with good intentions, and the main themes of the show center around not letting the past define you and growing past your mistakes. While not every villain is redeemed, the clear message of growth is there within the main cast, especially with them being reincarnations/descendents of the Pilgrims. And Wukong's major character flaw is closing himself off, and this is very much connected to these themes.

MK, at the beginning of the series, idolizes Wukong. While he does acknowledge that Wukong was a troublemaker in the past, it's not elaborated on nor does MK really think about it. MK is excited about his new powers and meeting his hero for the entire first season!

It isn't until season 2 that doubt really starts to creep in, where this idea that Wukong is a perfect hero starts to fracture in MK's eyes. We, as the audience, know that Wukong is investigating LBD and trying to keep MK safe by leaving him behind; but to MK and the characters in the show, they take Wukong's word at face value. If Wukong says he's going on vacation, then he's going on vacation. While they're not pleased about it, they don't have a reason to believe Wukong is doing anything else. And that's what Wukong wanted, nobody following him and putting themselves in danger. He's the immortal monkey, he can handle this himself, in his opinion that is.

And then LBD gets the staff, and they finally learn where Wukong truly was all this time. The main group rightfully feels a bit hurt, they trust Wukong but Wukong didn't trust them. We know his reasons, but we can still empathize with the others' hurt and confusion. This doesn't make Wukong the villain or a terrible person, though. He wasn't plotting behind their backs, he was trying to handle the threat by himself.

In season 3, the most vocal person regarding their distrust of Wukong is Pigsy. Even before Amnesia Rules, Pigsy scrutinized Wukong's meditation and even the validity of the map to the Rings. And then Amnesia Rules happens, where Wuking reveals that there aren't just 3 Rings of Samadhi but 4.

Pigsy is rightfully suspicious, and its meant to give suspense to the audience as well. Why didn't Wukong tell them about the 4th Ring?

And then we learn the whole story: Wukong slipped during the ritual, and one of the Rings ended up forming inside Ao Lie. Mei, as a descendent of Ao Lie, now carries the fourth Ring. When it's revealed, Nezha specifically mentions the fire possibly burning Mei to a crisp. This is also when we learn that Wukong's plan was to extract the Ring from Mei and harness the power of the Samadhi Fire hinself.

Wukong's main fault in this entire scenario was his tendency to push people away and keep things to himself. His desperation when they begin the ritual without him also points to him not wanting Mei to get hurt. He also feels responsible for the Ring being in Mei in the first place.

His plan was flawed from the get-go, not because he's an evil villain, but because in trying to handle things by himself he pushed his new friends away from him, and created a situation where they couldn't trust him. We see this trait of his again when he goes to fight LBD alone, he feels responsible and wants to handle it by himself. His mindset is constantly looping between "I'm responsible for this" and "Don't get the kid and his friends involved." And what the show is trying to tell us is that he should reach out for help, and that this isn't a healthy mindset.

In season 4, Wukong's past mistakes are exposed for everyone in the main cast and the audience to see. And his past with the Brotherhood explains so much.

We don't know much about the pligrimage other than the fact that it was mentally and emotionally beneficial to Wukong after he got locked up, so for now I'm going to focus on the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood assembled to fight against the Jade Emperor, as Wukong was openly rebellious during this stage of his life. After the battle, he had to lock his former friends away because they clearly hung onto this goal of rebellion. We also see in the memory scroll that Azure Lion's "paradise" caused environmental devastation to the surrounding areas, and that after Wukong was imprisoned he lashed out at Macaque. He feels responsible for Azure's ideas of grandeur to some extent, in his eyes he was the one who fed into these ideas and lead their first attempt at rebellion. He was so caught up in his journey towards immortality and strength for the sole purpose of protecting his loved ones, that he ended up pushing them all away and hurting them. He even says at the beginning of season 4 that most of the bad guys MK faced were people he has history with, specifally that he crossed them at some point.

Based on Wukong's self-destructive behavior that's been previously established, season 4 brings a lot of light onto Wukong's behaviors. Once again, he left some things unsaid because he felt solely responsible. When MK and Macaque rescue Wukong from the scroll, it takes MK reassuring Wukong that he can still correct and grow past these mistakes that haunt him — with Macaque offering him a small, forgiving smile to really motivate him.

Wukong's character in this series is that he's a flawed individual who has made mistakes and will continue making mistakes, even with the best of intentions in mind, but that he can grow from them. And that he is going to grow from them with his newfound family. LMK made it's message of growth so painfully obvious here lmao

[riteliso]

This is a Catra doodle I did a bit ago to make sure my drawing skills didn't COMPLETELY atrophy.

I think since this space is so alien to me I'm fine being up front with my experiences with this show, actually--

I watched the show because I was genuinely fervently rabid with need for lesbians fighting each-other. Rivalries are my favourite kind of romance, and when it's fictional, I'm a "the meaner the better" kinda gal.

I certainly felt an immediate emotional draw to Catra. My first watch through I was so tunnel-visioned on her and Adora's relationship that-- I wasn't checked OUT persay, but whenever Catra wasn't on screen, I was deep in the "where's poochie?" mud.

I am-- a very critical girl. Absolutely to a fault. So, really, I was watching it to fulfill that girlfight sim meter I had that was DANGEROUSLY low. I usually make it a point not to watch things that "get better later," because in my experience, people often LIE when they say that. I, as a published author, (yes I'm being a dickhead and pulling that card even though it means NOTHING,) am under the belief that the start of your story and the end of your story have to hit the hardest.

In this respect, I find myself very happy I was in such a manic and needy mood when I decided to watch spop. I wouldn't have stuck it through if it weren't for that-- the first season isn't BAD by any means, but it's much closer to AVERAGE compared to the rest of the series.

Princess Prom as an episode irreversibly affected my brain. It was so good and got me so hype that I truly, truly, fell in love with a show all at once that, before that point, I had found "overwhelmingly charming." I have plenty of praises for what the series does pre-princess prom, sure-- but that's mostly the extremely thick use of phrases such as "this is what you left me for," "she's just confused," et cetera.

From that point I was glued to the screen, leaning over my desk, watching intently, with a cloying desperation to see how everything would work out in the end. For those who don't know me-- ever since I sort of discovered my gender identity, my "kayfabe" or "persona" for lack of better wording has been very firmly "cartoonishly angry woman who has a taste for evil." I'm sure that already spells out where I'm going with this--

I related to Catra on a level I have truly never related to-- ANYTHING before. While watching I went from a joking "damn, she just like me fr" to a very serious "why is she so-- uncannily similar to me?" The answer I eventually landed on was just- a beautiful kinda accident. There's certainly some level of nature involved-- I do read Catra as extremely bi-polar, but that's heavily supported by my bias as a bi-polar woman who identifies so deeply with her. But the other thing is, we kinda share a lot of DNA when it comes to our, like- dark backstories.

I'm not gonna BORE you with every gory little DETAIL, but both me and Catra's traumatic histories can be simplified into "at the most vulnerable time in our lives, an older woman who we desperately sought praise, attention, and PROTECTION from tired to take away our personhood and domesticate us in the most literal way possible, not respecting us as an individual, but only as a tool, and at best, a pet."

The trauma and the scars that leaves on your soul are-- uniquely identifiable. I think if you take the core idea of "weird angry girl" and put them through that trauma, as long as you're good at character-directed writing, you will end up with something that looks like Catra and I.

And I'm sure you've all come to the conclusion long before I have that yes, I do kin Catra. I didn't know near enough about kinning after watching the show the first time-- or the SECOND time, where I watched it with my wonderful girlfriend-- but after seeing what felt like "prophetic" fan-art one too many times, I had a dream. As in, literally, I had a dream.

In this dream, I was watching the stream of a friend of mine who does not actually exist. However, this theoretical friend was a huge pngtuber who happened to also be a Snufkin Kinnie who was huge in the kinning community. At one point, in this dream, they mention me, not knowing I'm watching their stream. They say something along the lines of--

"Yeah, I have this friend-- and you know, I never push anyone to identify any way, I never diagnose other people, it's rude and unhelpful-- but she is VERY stuck on Catra. Yeah, from She-ra. And, like, again-- it's not my place, I'm not gonna say anything-- but it's so obvious that it's EMBARRASSING."

Waking up from that dream was frustrating for a number of reasons-- the chief of which being that if I didn't know enough about kinning to make a decision, how the FUCK did my brain know enough to make a LITERAL BRUTAL CALLOUT on TWITCH DOT FUCKING TV? But that's neither here nor there--

I had already kinda admitted to myself I saw her as an inspiration-- she was not only very-- ME, but where my frustration came from was that she was acting more ME than I was, because SHE wasn't afraid of people thinking she was a WEIRD FREAK.

And so-- I talked to some friends who knew more about kinning. One friend in particular said not only could she really see it, but that it had come up in her head before, and then when I told her I was considering it partially from the frustration of Catra acting more like me than I was, said--

"Only a Catra kinnie would find out they kin Catra out of spite."

Which is accurate, but jesus, sister, pump the fuckin breaks, let me get ACCLIMATED FIRST

And in classic Catra fashion the second I accepted what I had to and moved forward I was instantly slapped by every stair on the god damn way down-- Not in a cruel way, but I'll admit I woulda put up more resistance to the idea of kinning Catra if I knew the day I told my girlfriend about it we'd run into the information of her middle and last names being "Applesauce Meowmeow." Semi-canon is canon enough for my girl to make fun of me, and that's what matters.

Anyway-- I know that was all REALLY rambly and nothing-- but I felt like typing it all out. It's been a weird year. There was a piece of fanart in particular that I think sparked the dream I had-- where Catra goes to kiss Adora but then fakes her out and licks her nose. I had done that to my girlfriend just days prior to me seeing that for the first time, while we were WATCHING spop. And I'm sure that plenty of antagonistic bratty lesbians do the same, (or I'm entirely off base and it really is just me and Catra but let me cope here alright,) but it really did feel like something turning to me and going: "This is as you as it gets, girlie. People see Catra and they imagine her acting exactly as you do."

I'll end this post on this pearl of cute info about me and my girl:

I bite her and call her chew-toy

She tolerates that and calls me cat-nip

And we love each-other very much.

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Which redacted character do you think would be the softest to a character who is shy / anxious and deals with self loathing? Asking for a friend 👀

A friend you say? Hmmm

Arguably, every listener deals with self-loathing in some kind of way. And their respective partners (or friend group in Freelancer's case) comfort them.

On the opposite side, you have Lasko and his listener in the wonder of reverse comfort. But your friend (👀) is searching for soft comfort specifically.

Gavin is gonna take the crown. He's pretty versatile and tends to be a personality chameleon. Plus if you look at the DAMN group, he tends to comfort Lasko in his own way by pulling Lasko out of bad spiraling thoughts by flirting. Freelancer tends to be more reserved when it comes to opening up about things they're dealing with and wants to constantly take on other's burdens. Just the fact that he tends to be surrounded with people on a spectrum of shy/anxious and self loathing individuals points towards understanding how to best comfort them. He has a lot of social awareness to understand that what might work for one person, won't work for another. (I love Gavin.)

(Caelum would work too, but he's the obvious choice since his entire existence basically revolves around comforting people and loosening knots. Only problem would be that no one but other d(a)emons and FL can see/hear him O.O So depending on the usage of this information that may or may not be important.)

Below the cut are my reasons for ruling out the other characters if you're interested.

I'm gonna have to eliminate Asher, David, and Milo (purely because their listeners seem outgoing.) Sweetheart could be shy, but that's just because I have a headcanon that since they're a stealth, they're so used to hiding as much as they can even when they're not thinking about it. But that's not canon (*yet*) All we got is that when they're in flight or fight mode, they tend to cloak without trying.

Sam could be a good contender since he's so gentle and comforts Darlin when they start trashing on themselves. Honestly he's probably a runner up to Gavin. But I can't label him the softest because of Gavin's existence. But for whatever reason your friend (I'm not buying it sorry lol) needs this and Gavin just doesn't quite fit the slot, I would go for Sam.

Vincent is slutty. Nah, I'm kidding. Vincent seems more easy at comforting after something happens. Through no fault of his own. The comfort audios we get are always after an event happens that Lovely is struggling to cope afterwards, versus in the middle of something. He does have that awareness that apologizing for it doesn't always help, so kudos to him.

Aaron is also really socially aware, but he relies so heavily on communication to understand a situation (which is good. Communication is healthy) that it might be difficult for him to comfort someone who is shy. We all know that Smartass isn't shy around him, so we haven't really seen him comforting them because of something. *that I know of. I need to relisten to his playlist soon. I miss him.* He did a good job comforting Elliot, but Elliot also seems kind of outgoing. I wouldn't call him shy.

Ollie is a sweetheart. But in all honesty I've only listened to his first two audios so I don't really know much about him O.O

Vega... It's Vega. He'd manipulate you into feeling better, but only on his terms and when it benefits him. I love him.

Regulus... No. Obvs.

Blake could be good at it since he's a yandere so he's pretty into knowing all your details. He would know how best to comfort you because he knows you so well. But he wouldn't be the softest to anyone who isnt his darling, so if that's who this shy/anxious self loathing person is then Blake is off the table. He's pretty single minded.

Guy would be amazing at cheering someone up. But we're looking for soft. Not energetic cheering up. Vulnerable soft Guy in his confession audio holds a special place in my heart though. But his "sleep aid" proved that the best thing when you're trying to calm down is have him go to a far away restaurant to retrieve food.

Avior is a tricky one. So many of his audios were him putting up a front to keep Starlight at arms length. Then afterwards it was most reverse comfort from how I saw it. So Idk how he would be. There's not a lot of evidence in my perspective to make a clear decision.

Ivan - Same deal as with Avior. Not enough objective evidence. First he's a scary kidnapper and then he's begging to try his old relationship again. No comfort stuff really.

Morgan would be great with a reclusive person. (Since I think that's what his listener is? His voice always puts me to sleep. But I'm not sure entirely since I always fall asleep hehe)

Lasko did pretty well at comforting FL after the Kody incident, but his panic in wanting to make people feel better wouldn't make him a good contender. Sorry Lasky.

Kody is a wet noodle.

Huxley would be good at it, but I can see him struggling to find the words he wants to use. Hugs are great and he seems like he is soft with people in a more touchy manner. Depending on the person that can be good. But if you're like me and get uncomfortable when people touch you and you just like the idea of physical contact, then he wouldn't be the top choice.

Damien would kind of be like Guy in the way he could cheer you up, but it wouldn't be soft. As much as he hates it, the first reaction he has is to protect which can get him heated. Not the most calming presence. Plus he's not the most socially aware.

Geordi... it depends if they're in his head. He tries to choose his words very carefully, but he's naturally a very anxious person as well. Their anxiety could feed off of his and then we have another Lasko situation.

Brachium is another pretty good choice. Only problem is he's difficult to reach so he would be difficult to give comfort. But his voice and aura are very calming if a bit somber. He is pretty good at being soft with Sunshine with his "little one"s and such. I love him, he's such a dad.

Cam is kind of like Caelum in the way he would be very good at it. Plus he's obvious. But he's overworked. Let him sleep TT-TT

James is too analytical and focused on saving the world and getting back home. Soft isn't the word I would use for him.

Anton... same vibes as Brachium. He's soft but somber.

Marcus is whiny.

Brian is grumpy. Plus there's no evidence for him.

Quinn would be shit at it obvs.

Echo would just snap his fingers and make you more anxious. He finds that shit funny.

Did I miss anyone? O.O

[apricusnights]

Olympus Tournament Story: Gifts

A strange sensation to say the least. In the same instant that the young woman was teleported away after winning the Leader's Choice Final Four..several people who had been watching had also found themselves in a strange new location.

Amongst these people were three members of the Marigold clan. Van, Lye, and Titus. All three found themselves in a courtyard looking out over the sea. Of course it didn't take long for Van and Lye to start arguing over who's fault it was or what kind of scheme Van was up to this time.

Titus however seemed more interested in WHERE they were, not how they got there. Something he seemed to have a gut feeling about even before a rather sweet sounding voice spoke to the three of them.

"I know this isn't exactly the best way I could have gone about this but with everything going on I felt I wouldn't have a better chance." The woman was rather tall, towering over the three Marigolds. Her long flowing white dress almost seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. An obvious defining trait were the rabbit ears atop her head. Whether they be augmentations or something more natural remained to be seen.

"My name is Tagetes, Emperor Tagetes I suppose." A name which made the three go silent..though Van's doubt was evident. Something that again caused Van and Lye to begin arguing before once again finding themselves teleported. This time further into the palace. The three Marigolds had been sent to different rooms. She seemed to appear in each room at the same time and began speaking to each individual.

Van's room:

"I know it's strange.." Walking around the room as Van looked at her. "I'm sure you've heard plenty of stories from your father about his time here. He fought against Morrigan. A rather close call if I remember right. His mother was here long ago, her fight was with Vili." Taking a seat at the table. "Would you like some tea?"

"I assure you the stories were all true, though I have no doubt your father embellished some details." Smiling as she leaned back. "You're wondering if I'm who you think I am. Yes and no. We've been around a long time, longer than anyone else. Your clan..our clan thinks of me as a goddess. Perhaps I am, perhaps that is just an easy way to describe us...even if the definitions of it get a little muddled."

Lye's room:

"And so the next question you have is "why me"? Considering none of you were even competing. You assumed the emperors were only watching those fighting and not those who may need us. Well, perhaps some of the others were more interested in who was the strongest fighter..we all have reasons for who we chose."

"You can't move on can you?" Brushing her hand through Lye's hair. "The past clouds your future. Everything has always been about what was, even when you try and think about what could be. What your own brother had done. No matter what anyone says to you, it's never that easy to just move on is it? Because it's hard for anyone else to really understand.."

Titus's room:

"When I brought you all here I wondered which of you might be the one who eventually undertakes that rite of passage that many in our clan have done before. Believe it or not, both of the twins have an extraordinary amount of potential, it could very well be one of them. However, it could also very likely be you.."

"I can see something in you, something that reminds me of one long ago. One who's story you likely haven't heard. One who failed time and time again but refused to give up. Every time they fell and were sent away..they eventually made their way back. An extremely cold exterior but perhaps the biggest heart. Here, allow me to show you their story.." Reaching out and touching Titus's forehead which shows him a vision from long ago.

Van's room:

"You feel as though you were a monster that was created by an even bigger monster." The steam from her team swirled around and created brief images of Hades. "He saw a rage in you, turned you into his weapon. It's interesting though. Look at the others, a lover as twisted as the devil, and the ones who looked at the devil and found a father figure."

"But he resorted to using you only as a weapon...because he knew he couldn't fully corrupt you. It's why he relied so much on her...because he assumed she could manipulate you by using your heart..the one thing he couldn't do. In the end though he was afraid of you. He was afraid because he knew one day you'd realize the truth. One day you would be strong enough to set yourself on a different path. When that day came he knew he'd never be able to get you back.."

"It is only by walking through fire that we may burn away the lies.."

Lye's room:

"You believed yourself shackled to your past. In truth the only thing that binds you is yourself. You have learned to accept what has happened, to accept that once something is done it can never be undone. However, the past will always be the past. It is a part of you but you are not a reflection of that which has happened. You are not a product of what was."

"You may never be able to forgive your brother for what took place. The world will never expect this of you. What you must do is forgive yourself and understand that everything you feel is natural. Do not keep your anger bottled up, it will bubble under the surface until it consumes you. Say what you feel and let it go."

"Scars are reminders. However they are not simply reminders of past events, they remind you of what you've been through, what you've overcome, they remind you that you are still here. That your destiny is waiting for you. A destiny that you alone will write."

"It is only by walking through the darkness that we may find the light."

Titus's room:

"So you see the truth now. A truth that many in our clan have not been privileged to see. However, destiny is not set in stone. Many believe when you are born your fate is laid out already. As if you're only going through chapters of a book and cannot control the outcome."

"This as you just witnessed, is false. Someone who by all accounts was never "meant" to do what they did was able to overcome all things. Was able to realize that fate is what we make of it. Nothing is written, it never has been. As long as you're willing to fight for what you believe in, for those you hold dear, you may be able to accomplish things that you doubted were possible."

"One day our clan will need someone to claim the mantle of Chieftain. This is not necessarily you, perhaps that isn't the destiny you wish to have. Or perhaps when the time comes you may find yourself drawn to it. This is your choice and your choice alone. Understand though that I do see great things ahead of you and the city you call home may need you sooner than you think."

"It is only by walking through the illusions that we may find the truth."

Van's room:

"You are stronger than you believe you are. Though the journey may be long, you are not alone. Your Captain believes in you with all his heart, your friends will always be by your side, perhaps in time those who you once considered friends will find their way back to you."

"Your destiny is in your hands. You and you alone are in control of it. Accept the past and be willing to take that next step forward. Just know that you are not taking those steps alone and never have been."

"I can not promise your relationship with your sister will ever be perfect. Things rarely are. But I urge you to listen to her if she comes to you. It may be a long road ahead for you two but I believe given time, perhaps the two of you can start to heal."

"This being said, you may find yourself side by side with her in the near future." She reaches out and takes Van's hand.

"My gifts are only given to those who truly deserve them.."

Lye's room:

She's also taken Lye's hand. "Like most gifts, mine may take a while to unwrap."

Titus's room:

Taking Titus's hand "And even when you unwrap the gift, it's going to be up to you to understand how it works."

To all three

"I'm proud of you all. Should you need to speak to me, all you need do is ask."

All three Marigolds hands begin to glow before them find themselves transported back to the exact spots on the ship there were but only a few seconds seem to have passed.

[windsfavored]

❝  khaenri'ah ... ❞  the  wanderer  echoes.  sighing  quietly,  he  shakes  his  head.  ❝  somehow  i'm  not  surprised  —  why  is  it  that  every  problem  in  this  world  seems  to  stem  from  THAT  PLACE  in  one  way  or  another?  ❞  it's  a  purely  rhetorical  question.  even  the  roots  of  his  own  creation  lay  buried  somewhere  in  khaenri'ah  —  or  so  the  doctor  told  him  at  one  point  or  another.  it  isn't  something  ren  feels  particularly  inclined  to  investigate.  the  less  INFORMATION  about  how  he  works  floating  around,  the  better.  the  last  thing  this  world  needs  is  more  creatures  like  him  running  around.  (  more  than  there  already  are.  )

he  falls  largely  silent  after  that,  listening  to  the  alchemist's  explanation.  he  wonders  if  albedo  feels  any  RESENTMENT  towards  his  creator.  she  certainly  sounds  like  a  troublesome  individual  —  though  he  could  very  well  be  projecting  his  own  feelings.  ❝  riftwolves,  huh ... ❞  he  mutters  beneath  faux  breath.  a  flicker  of  discontent  washes  over  the  wanderer's  countenance.  ❝  i'm  familiar ...  can't  say  i'm  particularly  fond  of  them. ❞  they  aren't  especially  troublesome  to  fight.  they  sport  no  irritating  shields,  nor  do  they  have  any  true  inklings  of  strategy  greater  than  what  one  might  expect  from  the  average  pack-hunting  creature.  they  chase,  they  attack,  they  swarm.  yet  it's  the  corrosive  nature  of  their  teeth  and  claws  that  he  HATES.  the  regenerative  properties  of  his  body  hold  true,  even  in  the  face  of  that  pesky  ability  —  though  he  can't  say  it's  especially  pleasant  feeling  parts  of  himself  being  eaten  away  and  growing  back  simultaneously.  ❝  for  someone  with  an  ill-intentioned  clone  of  yourself ...  running  around,  you  seem  awfully  calm  about  all  of  this. ❞

well.  he  supposes  he  has  no  place  to  judge  ANYONE  for  being  strange.  least  of  all  someone  who  shares  so  many  similarities  with  himself.

❝  i  was  hoping  if  i  could  at  least  talk  to  durin ...  we  could  put  a  stop  to  this  disaster  before  it  even  starts. ❞  he  turns  away  from  the  heart,  crossing  his  arms.   ❝  i  suppose  that's  my  fault  for  thinking  this  could  ever  be  that  easy. ❞  how  frustrating.  ❝  i'm  going  to  assume  you've  already  EXHAUSTED  your  options  as  far  as  stopping  him  from  waking  up  at  all  is  concerned ...  otherwise  you  would  have  no  reason  to  involve  me  in  this. ❞   not  that  ren  would  advocate  for  such  an  EXTREME  solution  at  all  if  he  had  a  say  in  the  matter.  perhaps  it's  personal  bias  diminishing  his  common  sense,  but  this  version  of  durin  has  a  right  to  live  just  as  much  as  any.  of  course,  so  do  the  people  of  mondstadt  —  who  would  undoubtedly  be  crushed  in  the  CROSSFIRE.

he  glances  over  his  shoulder,  frown  pulling  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  this  place...  truly  does  feel  strange.  yet  something  about  that  sensation  is  oddly  FAMILIAR.  ❝  a  very  long  time  ago ...  i  lived  in  a  place  that  was  plagued  by  sickness  due  to  an  unnatural  source  of  corruption. ❞  he  chooses  his  words  carefully,  trying  to  provide  context  without  allowing  the  emotions  TATARASUNA  inevitably  evokes  in  him  to  overtake  his  composure.   ❝  many  humans  died.  the  sky  was  swallowed  by  dark  smoke.  it  felt  like  even  the  land  itself  was  growing  poisoned  and  corrupt. ❞  turning  back  to  albedo,  he  forces  himself  to  exhale  slowly.  ❝  it's  difficult  to  explain ...  but  when  i  said  durin's  heart  feels  like  a  fever,  i  wasn't  speaking  in  metaphor.  it  reminds  me  of  what  i  witnessed  back  then. ❞  not  precisely,  yet  still  close  enough  to  bring  those  memories  to  mind.

❝  ...  it  feels  like  he's  been  corrupted,  too. ❞

the lightheartedness of ren's banter couldn't come at a more inopportune time, nor could it be funnier. it reminds albedo of the general mahamatra, in a manner. it seems ren shares the general's same passion for inappropriately timed humor. it's appreciated, and albedo is even allowing himself a small grin as a token of said amusement.

"i am not a dragon, but you are correct in that we share the same creator." he turns back to the heart, almost feeling disgusted by it. that disgust hadn't been there before, but of course, every time conversations circle back around to gold, albedo feels incredibly conflicted, jealous, and even bitter over everything that transpired.

"my master uses what we in khaenri'ah referred to as khemia." albedo pauses momentarily, wondering if he should actually explain who his master is, but decides against it. ren had already had a taste of that conversation before, and klee had reveled in announcing to mini durin that they were now family. albedo had brushed it off at the time, but thinking on it now, it really does put a sour taste in his mouth.

"it's an ancient practice that very few people know today," he continues. "namely, only myself and my master know it." his lip curls back unconsciously. she could be ANYWHERE, using her abilities to create even more half-baked projects, while he's still trying to learn everything he can before some sort of disaster. "since khaenri'ah was low on light and vegetation, khemia was necessary for our survival. i was not the first being she created. but i was the one perfected. at least, as far as i know."

he turns his head away, not wanting to stare at that ugly pulsating red thing anymore. durin had been a failure, not that it's a common mistake. gold had rarely made mistakes. apparently her successes ended up dead or buried in the belly of other beings. albedo, as far as he cares, is the only one with human-like sentience, and that's almost a lonely thought to keep with him. sure, there is another of him running around teyvat somewhere, but albedo doesn't want to think about that one, either.

"she created more than just myself and durin. i'm sure you've encountered riftwolves in your travels. and there's probably a creature with my face running around. his whereabouts are currently unknown."

now it feels as though albedo is talking too much. sure, the information is necessary for ren. albedo would want even MORE, were he in ren's shoes. but this entire conversation is leaving albedo mentally fatigued, as though he'd been talking for days, instead of just giving the most important information first. still, albedo now wants nothing to do with this cave for awhile. it's getting harder to hide how annoyed he is, but he HOPES he's managing to keep his tone and expression carefully schooled. at least albedo has the one joke about being a dragon to keep his shoulders from tensing.

"― and no. had i any way of communicating with durin through his heart, i would have already found a way to do so. as it stands right now, there is cause for concern due to its increasing size. and with dragonspine so close to mondstadt, i worry about the lives there."

[applefan28]

-I was really hesitant to try and ask about it again, since I didn't want to be too pushy or bothersome, especially since I'm just some random ass anon 0_0; But I got the confidence to try again <:) Forgot if I said this already but the headcannons can be whatever you want, if you ever wanted to an excuse to go ham with the rambling, this is it, I definitely won't mind-

(deleted the original ask + response because tumblr fucked up the formatting BAD)

hey man i dont mind the asks here youre totes in the good here 👍 im just very wishy-washy with doing things but really, your interest in my thoughts on these guys make me :] greatly appreciate it

(ALCOHOL CW here as its the headcanon topic this time.)

Apple is the type to go through such a weird whiplash of stages, as she starts out with being hyper and very active with near no doubt in what she does or says. it progresses, however, into how she was like prior to marsh on mars. apple gets very self defensive, short tempered, and hells of lot more brash with her language (as well as cursing in spanish a lot more). as we all know, her crude snd aggressive front was a subconscious way to protect + repress her deeprooted insecurities and self hatred. she could get easily angered and put up a fight response to a lampost of all things because she thought it called her dumb. eventually, it all sorta wears out into this very toned down, sad loner that keeps to herself. shes quiet and doesnt really speak all much, but is actually thinking a little bit too much for her own good. kinda like shes given up on that front? shes back to being post elimination apple at the hotel (at least, how i think of her to be). finally, she hits the last stage where shes this outwardly overly sensitive crybaby that overthinks every single thing going on. shes got tears in her eyes, sniffling every couple of seconds, sees every bad as her own fault and is sooo switchy with being overly attached/overly self distancing with marsh. apple is just a huge emotional mess of self hatred and deep insecurities 

thankfully though, apple doesnt have much of a reaso to drink a whole lot and neither do the mansion folk. she does dabble in a bit of beer every now and then in moderation if shes doing some heavy farm work (just like her dad). btw she has a sorta strong alcohol tolerance but in turn gets the absolute worst phases and digestional struggles. when it hits, it hits her HARD. beer and anything packed with flavour are her go-to (she knows nothing about mixing and types of drinks)

Marshmallow is not one to drink a whole lot to begin with, and is the designated driver most of the times (only one who can drive and trusts herself + pb to handle things). marsh doesnt really have phases, at least like how apple does, but does kinda go through the motions enough where the next day she regrets having more drinks than she should have had. she gets a lot more loose and careless, shedding off that cynical and doubtful approach she has. it delves more into a very affectionate and surprisingly emotionally open individual who displays this carefree demeanor full of love and carnal desire (towards apple especially). there will however, be moments where bits of herself seep through these drunken love behaviours. every now and then you can catch a glimpse of marsh's hidden attachment and a flavour of guilt-ridden self hatred. marsh isnt exactly as self hating as apple is, but she has a tendency to make things about herself including issues between her and her loved ones. dont be mistaken though, she still wont budge and express her inner turmoil to you even under the influence. marsh desires agency and control over herself enough to not be completely loose on alcohol

like ive mentioned before, marsh isnt one to drink even casually and restricts herself from such during occasions as shes the self appointed and mutually agreed designated driver. shes more into sweet-tasting but not overly decorated mixed drinks and wine if she were to drink though. shes not exactly alcohol tolerant but not easily moved either, she has that subconscious restraint to not open up but its no match against her rampant lesbianism lets be real

Bow is the type of drunk to bring lots of fun to the party, while having you keep medical aid on hand. shes a lot more hyper and energetic, sparking up the light and bringing life to whatevers going on sometimes to an annoying degree. bow also gets a hell lot more flirtatious with about anyone and will get mopey if you show disinterest or flat out reject her. thankfully, her attention span at this rate is tanked so she'll just switch gears haha. there will however, be a tipping point to her patience and will get irritable towards rejection or something not going the way it should. bow's pranks and stunts get even more chaotic and at this point flat out shows no regards to others' or her own safety. not to mention her moments where she will be extremely honest with intentions/feelings, sometimes even her grudge and depression over being dead + irrelevant. one second its flirting the next is casually raging over being nothing now, then back to flirting all to the same person. all this to compensate for the constantly looming void of her prescence, bow is destroying that void 

much like apple, thankfully this isnt something that would happen all that much nowadays. bow is the type to take a hard swig of straight vodka and probably shoot it onto someone else's mouth. she'll down on a fuck load of shots like its nothing and can chug beers in a fell swoop then crushes the can on her head. probably the strongest alcohol tolerance out of the mansioners, dough being a close second

Dough isnt much of the exuberant and hyper party type like bow is (in fact his tone doesnt change at all), but still becomes this more outgoing, social guy that loves to get crazy with his pals and pulling stunts. shes more genuine and less "ironic" under the influence, as that flimsy façade she carries is taken down. dough's kinda a more approachable guy now as shes less to deal with the incessant Too Cool For This mask made out of plastic wrap, though WILL go on and on and on about whatever interest or topic she knows. not to mention, he can get rather annoyingly clingy with this newfound authenticity. the combo of a drunk dough telling a sober bow how much he loves her as a sister and thinks shes totally cool is very funny to me. not to mention much like bow, he gets flirtatious, but still retains that nonchalant attitude. while the flirting is genuine in emotion, its still some of the most blunt, unattractive flirting ever (hes having fun). all in all, dough doesnt suffer as bad as the others when drunk. a drunk dough is a zooted unmasked dough who, while drops the rather transparent ironic apathy for once, will still end up being a pesky guy but with added genuinity <3

dough is the opposite of bow here where she just has a pretty weak alcohol tolerance. makes sense with how flimsy her front is, its easy to kinda see shes bullshitting the irony. much like bow, he does likes just about anything from canned beers to complex mixes to really shitty mixes done in barrels that'll send you to sleep for a week. speaking of mixing, id like to think he at least knows some basics and will call himself a mixologist but honestly dough is very amateur at it and can NOT do tricks without using ghost abilities

[xhatake]

📔 / obito hehe

send 📔for a journal entry on your muse! || @s4ints

[ his handwiriting is neat, uniform. he uses a dark blue ink on every page, the color rich & stimulating. his journal is left on the corner of his desk, half a dare to anyone trying to snoop ]

It is 3:45am on a Tuesday & sleep evades me. I find myself awake during late stretches of the night more & more often. There is an incessant string of thoughts that follows at my heel, nipping at me like Pakkun did when he was young. We are all getting older now and it's getting more difficult to adjust to the rapid approach of the new future. Not even counting stars is enough to put me to bed.

It won't be long before Naruto is ready to take over the responsibilities of the Hokage. He will usher in an age of peace, the path has been paved. But there is still so much fallout from the wars we have fought. Individually & on the battlefield. Now we can continue to dig through the internal debris, keeping the ruins of our former selves to ourselves in a desperate attempt to remain unknown.

It's infuriating, but to be expected. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't expect it to be so hard. It feels wrong to harbor such relentless bitterness for Obito. I knew him in a former life, as the ghost of a memory. As close as he may keep that memory to his chest, it is not entirely his own.

There are a handful of our surviving classmates that remember him. they remember his infectious smile, his half-baked excuses... But they also remember their students dying by his hand. They remember fighting for their lives against his forces. Obito & I are not the only ones who must recover, though it could be a step in the right direction. They know where I began, just as I know them. But there is such a gap in our shared story, so many unfinished chapters that will remain untouched if i can't swallow my pride.

[ this is the only correction on the page, ink smudged down the line of text in an attempt to render it unreadable ]

A few years ago I would rather cross the street than pass Obito on the sidewalk. Every time I saw him dragging himself down the road on his crutches, I felt a bitter responsibility for him. He, a shell, a nostalgic memory contorted & made twisted flesh. He always used to look so angry. He still does, I suppose. The way their brow collapses when something irritates them is like a warning for anyone who throws him a dirty look, the seething answer to the unspoken question. ' what are you doing here. ' Healing, like the rest of us

All faults aside, Obito was trying to save the planet in their own, terrible way. I can't say I entirely blame them. We lost everything to this world we live in; it's not so strange to want it to go away. It's not an idea I'm eager to share, just as I'm sure it's one Obito would stomp into the dirt. There are no prizes for good intentions in our world, especially not for people like us. Those who dip in & out of morality, adapting to what we believe the world may need... different, as that idea may be between the two of us. We are not the same & we never will be again. But perhaps, one day, we can be better. Or maybe I'm just getting old, sentimental.

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of All Saiyans

-

Masterlist

-

So first things first. I should probably mention that I killed Chi-Chi off before the start of the story. I completely forgot to include it in the notes last chapter. So sorry if there was any confusion there.

Ever since the last chapter, I've been kinda hooked on flashbacks. So there will be another one, this one featuring the man, the myth, the legend, the most ruthless of all the Saiyans King Vegeta. Also, my dumbass finally decided to create a Masterlist. I realized it's much easier than linking chapters individually. 

-

Chapter 7

-

You've been on Planet Namek for approximately two hours, and the day has already been tremendously eventful. You and Vegeta have already had a run-in with Cui, who arrived shortly after you. That purple cretin went out the same way he lived as a spineless coward. Something was extremely satisfying about watching Vegeta drive that failure into the ground. Cui's demise was entirely his own fault. It's common knowledge that Saiyans grow stronger after a near-death experience. Underestimating your brother's growth was an act of pure stupidity.

After that minor inconvenience, the two of you toon into Dodoria's transmission, it sounds like those goons are slaughtering a village of Namekians, so they must store their Dragon Balls in separate settlements. Either that or they're executing them for leisure. Both are feasible possibilities. From what you've been able to gather, Frieza has four Dragon Balls in his possession, and he's currently after his fifth. Frieza even reveals some essential information on how these Namkeian villages operate. Before the signal cuts off entirely. 

Vegeta attempts to find another channel, but they all come up as static. "Those Namekians must be craftier than they look. Something tells me Frieza's scouters are out of commission."

"Perhaps." He turns to you. "Or they figured out we were eavesdropping. Either way, keep your guard up."

The two of you fly around aimlessly. Though you still need to be careful. Frieza is somewhere on this god-forsaken planet, and a run-in with him and his lackeys at the moment would be unfavorable. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something that catches your attention. " I spy with my little eye an unsightly pink blob."

You direct Vegeta's attention to Dodoria, who has his classic disoriented look on his face. "Good eye." He smirks at you before ambushing Dodoria, knocking him into the water. You appear beside your brother on the shoreline, observing the water intently. 

Two pink hands grasp onto the terrain as he pulls his head up, gasping for air. You both laugh maniacally at the pink creature's stupidity. You swear, after every encounter you have with Dodoria, he somehow gets dumber. "Oh, it's you two." He sounds far from pleased as he pulls himself out of the lake. "What the hell do you want?"

"Mind your manners, Dodoria." You scold him. "No need to be crude."

He scowls at you. "Arrogant Saiyans." He mutters under his breath. "That was a dirty trick Vegeta. Although I wouldn't expect anything less from you monkeys." Dodoria straightens his posture in an attempt to appear more intimidating. Spoiler alert, it doesn't work. "You know I can't just let you get away with blindsiding me." 

Vegeta chuckles, rolling his eyes at the monster. "Oh, really now? Just what do you plan on doing? You're all alone. There's no Zarbon or Frieza for you to cower behind. How unfortunate for you."

"I doubt we'll even have to lift a finger." You shrug. "This should be a piece of cake."

Dodoria chuckles, shifting his gaze between you and Vegeta. "You two really think you can take me? You're both as egotistical as that father of yours, and you know how that ended for him. You Saiyan freaks will never be half the warrior that I am." You clench your fists, your nails digging into your palm. How dare he even mention your father. "Listen, I know neither of you desires to fight me. And I don't particularly want to fight you either. So how about you just give me that scouter, and we can forget this ever happened. That's more than a fair deal. I think I'm actually being quite generous." His tone may be confident, but his body language gives him away. Who knew the pink menace was actually afraid of something. 

"So your presumption was right." Vegeta turns to you. "Those Namekians must have destroyed their scouters. This puts us in an intriguing situation, doesn't it Y/N?" Vegeta removes his scouter, tossing it on the ground. "What are you waiting for, Dodoria? Take it."

He eyes you both skeptically, but he still takes the bait. Critical thinking has never been Dodoria's strong suit. "About time you brats showed me the respect I deserve." As he steps closer, Vegeta stomps on the scouter. The wretched thing, smashing into thousands of worthless pieces.

The pink monstrosity sneers. "No worries. I'll just take the girl's scouter." He speeds toward you, extending a hand in an attempt to rip the device off your face. Before he can even touch you, you grasp his arm, bending it behind his back.

"Why do they always think it's appropriate to get handsy with me?" A breathy sigh escapes your lips. "They'll never learn." You remove your scouter, holding it in the palm of your unoccupied hand. "Since you want it so bad." You snap your scouter in half, discarding the parts to the ground. "You ever think about laying your filthy hands on me again, you'll lose them." You toss the fool several feet away. The farther away he is, the better. 

"Why would you--- it doesn't even matter." He stands back up, dusting himself off. "Now, you won't be able to find the Dragon Balls either."

You shake your head at him, a pleased look crossing your features. "Not exactly. You see, Earth was quite the adventure. We picked up a few new tricks. One that leaves those hunks of metal useless."

Dedoria furrows his brows at you, his entire face contorting. "You're lying."

"I'm afraid she isn't. This energy-sensing technique is quite simple. I doubt any of the members of the elite Frieza Force would be interested, though. It doesn't require much strength, and everyone knows you don't care for anything that doesn't involve flexing your muscles." Dodoria is more fat than muscle. It's an irrelevant technicality, one that would only piss off the blob more. 

"I get it now." He seems to come to some sort of a realization. Only you have no idea what the hell he's referring to. "Those two runts I was chasing were earthlings." You stare at him in disbelief. Is it possible for them to be here? Raditz, he's the only possible explanation. But would he really be dumb enough to lead those weaklings to their deaths?

"W-What did you say?" Vegeta's mouth hangs agape.

"So I'm right. The looks on your faces tell me all I need to know. You're working together."

You combust into a fit of laughter, wiping tears from your eyes. This has to be the funniest thing you've heard all week. "Even if those pests were here. Never in a million years would we align ourselves with those soft-hearted fools."

"You must be mistaken. Even if those earthlings were here, we'd be able to sense them." Now that you think about it. Have you been able to sense them? You haven't been looking, but you have felt some strange energy. You just assumed it was some half-wit from the Frieza Force, but now you're not so sure.

 "It doesn't really matter anyway." He rolls his eyes. "You two are no longer any use to me. So either get lost, or I'll have to finish you off myself."

"Why, how generous of you." The sarcasm practically drips from your voice. "I think he's afraid Vegeta."

"Well, can you blame him? His scouter probably told him everything he needed to know. He must have seen my battle with Cui." For every step Vegeta takes forward, Dodoria takes another backward. "He must have seen how much stronger I've become."

"That isn't possible." He scoffs. "Those numbers were inaccurate, and I'll prove it!" He shoots an uncontrollable blast of fire at you both, which you simply dodge by stepping out of the line of fire.

"Was that really the best you could do?" You mock. It was sloppy even for an attack from Dodoria.

He turns around, only to be met with the two of you behind him, floating in the air. Vegeta swiftly moves behind him, grabbing both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. You swear you even heard them snap. "Look how weak you are." Vegeta sneers. "I'm stronger than I've ever been. While you've been sitting on your ass all-day, becoming soft and lazy. I should just end your pitiful life here."

"Wait, Vegeta!" He cries. "I have something to tell you! Something you'll really want to know! It's about your homeworld. I know the truth about Planet Vegeta!" Does that pink blob actually believe he has a form of leverage? What a fool.

"What could you possibly know about Planet Vegeta? You better start talking!" You furrow your brows at your brother. He's behaving strangely. And why is he humoring Dodoria in the first place? Vegeta has to already know about what they did to your homeworld.

"I will, but first, you have to let me go." Vegeta releases Dodoria from his death grip, pushing him away.

"Now, spit it out!" You observe the pair from a safe distance. Vegeta's response is bizarre, and his body language seems to have no ulterior motives. Is it possible that Vegeta doesn't know? You grab your forehead, running a hand through your hair. If that's the case, Vegeta is going to fucking kill you.

"As you know, Planet Vegeta was destroyed, but it wasn't by a meteor. Lord Frieza had started to notice numerous Saiyan babies being born with extraordinary combat skills. You two were the most notable in power. He realized that you Saiyans could really be a problem. You had the potential of becoming a real bother to Lord Frieza's regime. So he decided to wipe out the only race that could ever impose him before they could even become an issue. He destroyed Planet Vegeta with every last Saiyan on it. Well, except for you two. Did you really think it was a coincidence that you were off-planet? So there it is, you two are finally in on our little joke."

You've always known what happened to your planet. But now you've learned the answer to an even more substantial question, why it occurred. Frieza was afraid. He decided to take the coward's way out. How pathetic. 

You laugh, tilting your head backward. "That was your big ploy? I've known about that for years!" Before he can even react, you teleport behind him, impaling your hand through his chest, watching the purple goop ooze out of him. "How stupid did you think we were?" You twist your hand, tossing his lifeless body to the ground before obliterating anything left of him.

Vegeta stares at you in shock. "You knew?"

You raise a brow at him. "You didn't?" You always assumed that it was one of those things that you both knew but never spoke off. Turns out you were mistaken.

The two of you stand in silence. You have no idea what the protocol is for this. You don't know what you're supposed to say. Vegeta looks away, sighing. "It's irrelevant now. It was probably for the best that I was left in ignorance. Who knows what I would've done as a child. I'm just annoyed that you were able to figure it out before me."

You smile at him. Besting Vegeta is not something that comes easily. So you'll take what you can get. "You know, I don't think he was wrong about the earthlings."

"You think they're here?"

You nod. "You gotta remember. Raditz is with them now."

"Good point. When I get my hands on that pathetic excuse for a Saiyan, he'll regret ever betraying us. Let's go. We can't be out in the open for too long."

He hovers in the air, beginning to take off. "Vegeta." He turns back, meeting your gaze. "You know I would've told you, right?"

"I know---" He cuts himself off, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. "Do you sense that?" You nod, taking off in the direction of the two large power sources. Dodoria had mentioned that they were runts. So one of them has to be the half-breed and possibly the bald fellow. Your eyes scan over the terrain. They have to be around here somewhere. "They must be suppressing their power levels. Only if I still had my damn scouter. I'm not used to this technique just yet."

Bingo. You found them hiding between a few boulders. And your assumptions were right. There's only a slight difference. They seem to be accompanied by a Namkian child. A sadistic grin spreads across your face as their gazes land on you. Just the way you remember them, cowering in fear due to your presence. "You know. It was probably just three insignificant insects." You're not wrong. That's all they are to you. Pesky flies that invade your personal space and make your life slightly more irritating.

"You're right. We don't have time for this anyway. Let's get a move on." You both take off, leaving the earthling issue for another time.

It took you awhile, but you finally located a Namkeian village. Well, actually, you passed several, but this is the only one with a living population. "Looks like we found ourselves a Dragon Ball." Vegeta's lips twist into a sly grin, heading straight into the village. You follow his lead, now standing directly beside him. You've finally gained the attention of the inhabitants, who are now murmuring to each other. Who knew Namekians were such gossips. Their chatter dies down the second Vegeta clears his throat. "I wish to speak to your elder. I believe there is a Dragon Ball here, that we'll be graciously taking off your hands."

"I'm the village elder." An older Namkain steps up. These creatures do not age kindly. "I would ask you what your intentions are, but I can already feel that you are impure. I sense an unspeakable evil in both of you. Neither of you is worthy." What a self-righteous species. They're entirely different from that Namekian you encountered on Earth.

Vegeta shakes his head, chuckling to himself. Only if the Namekians cooperated, Vegeta has never taken the word no very well. "Then you die. Y/N, you do the honors." This could've ended smoothly, with a lot less bloodshed. Too bad for them.

"You got it, Vegeta." You hold up a finger gun, pointing it straight at the elder. "Bang!" A beam of blue light heads straight for the geezer before another Namkian jumps in front of him, absorbing the blast entirely. The body drops to the ground, and all hell breaks loose. 

You begin the slaughter, ending the lives of several Namkeians. Until you freeze, as much as you've been itching for a fight, you're reminded of something far more crucial that you have to fulfill. Damn your morals. They're ruining all your fun. You take one last glance at your brother. These Namekians should keep him occupied for some time. He might not even notice that you ever left. As soon as he turns away from you, you take off, successfully staying off of Vegeta's radar. 

You use your newly acquired energy-sensing technique to track down that Namekian child. Since those earthlings are suppressing their energy, they'll be much more difficult to find. This is assuming he's still with them. Those earthlings aren't like you. Neither of them would be able to stomach, leaving him for dead.

You pinpoint the energy source to a cave. What a strange place for them to reside in. You head into the cavern, only to find some form of futuristic architecture. How the hell did this get here? And what is Capsule Corp? You move toward the door, banging on it. "Knock, knock. Oh, little piglets, let me in! Before I knock the door down. Or worse." You can overhear faint whispering on the other side, mixed with a woman obnoxiously shrieking. "I can hear you panicking. Relax, I have no business with the half-breed, the Namekian child, or any earthlings in there. Now open the damn door."

The door slowly opens, revealing the bald man, whose name you believe to be Krillin. "What do you want, Y/N?"

"I need to speak to Raditz. It's urgent."

"Well, you can't---" Krillin gets pushed to the ground by none other than the infamous Hair Boy himself. This allows you to step inside the building. It must be some sort of luxury living quarters. 

The two of you stand arm's length from each other, matching cold expressions on your faces. "You here to kill me?"

"No." The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Well, at least not yet."

"So why are you here?" His face twists in confusion. "You aren't one to just drop in and say hi."

You take a deep breath, glancing around the room. This would be difficult to say one-on-one, but being surrounded by people makes it ten times worse. "There's something--- I need to tell you."

An arrogant smirk appears on his lips. "What? Did you finally fall for my good looks and charm? Are you finally declaring that you've fallen hopelessly in love with me?"

Your face scrunches up in disgust. "Don't make me ill." That would never happen, even if he was the last male Saiayn in existence, which he pretty much is. "I'm here to tell you the truth about what occurred on Planet Vegeta."

"What are you talking about?" Raditz eyebrows knit together. "A meteor wiped out our people."

You sigh, glancing at the ceiling. "Come on, Raditz. You're a lot of things, but you aren't stupid. There was no meteor. Even if there was one, our people could fly."

"What are you trying to say?" he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shield himself from the inevitable blow.

"Our people were exterminated by that imperialistic dictator." Your voice booms. You're not even attempting to conceal your anger.

Raditz clenches his fists, his hands violently shaking. All he can think about is his mother, how she deserved better. The majority of your people deserved what they got, but not Gine. She was different. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Raditz always knew there was no meteor. The story was too perfect, and it was easier to believe that it was a tragedy. "Why?" That was all he could manage to choke out. Did Raditz really want to know? Would he be able to handle the truth? 

The others in the room remain silent, observing you anxiously. You're even more terrifying than they believed. You're not joking around or aloof this time. You're only expressing one thing, pure rage. So you do care about something. Whether you desire vengeance or truly cared for your people is unclear to the earthlings.

"Frieza was terrified. Our people were getting too strong for his liking. The Saiyan population was skyrocketing due to technological advancements. He was scared of what we could accomplish, terrified of the possibility that he could be out-ranked."

A Cheshire grin appears on Raditz's face. "We'll prove to him that he was right to fear us, right?"

"You bet your ass we will. We'll make Frieza regret leaving us alive." You take a deep breath, finally attempting to get your emotions in check, returning to your cold demeanor. "I just thought you should know. Before I killed him, Dodoria let the cat out of the bag to Vegeta."

"You killed that pink asshole? It was about time. How'd it feel?" The other stare at you two in bewilderment. Two seconds ago, you were swearing revenge, and now you're as casual as can be.

"It was extremely satisfying sending that pink blob straight to hell." You purse your lips together, cracking your neck. I should get back before Vegeta blows a fuse." You move to the doorway, stopping dead in your tracks. "Oh, ya one, last thing. Frieza's here."

"We know his men are here. We've already had the pleasure of encountering the Frieza Force."

"Raditz, I'm afraid you don't understand. It's not just his minions. He's here on Namek." Raditz chokes on air, his eyes popping out. You slam the door shut, hearing Raditz's reaction through the walls. The phrases we're so fucked, and we're all gonna die were your favorites of his elaborate babbling. You take off, heading back in the direction you came from.

As you near the location of the village, you quickly realize there is no point in returning. You can't sense any life, and that includes Vegeta. So this means he knows you ran off. You were due for one of his famous lectures anyway. Hopefully, he's not wasting his time searching for you. That would only make your predicament worse. 

You search in every direction, finally detecting your brother's energy to the west. Vegeta's power level is diminishing at an alarming rate. Maybe he's run into Zarbon or worse, Frieza. You take off at light speed, heading straight for the battleground.

Once you arrive, you conceal yourself behind a hill, observing the battle intently. It appears that Vegeta is fighting Zarbon, but something is off about the narcissist. His chest seems broader than it usually is. 

Zarbon turns around, your eyes widening at the ghastly sight. What the fuck happened to his face? He has to be the most hideous creature you've ever laid your eyes on, and there's a lot of competition for that category. This must be an alternate form of his, similar to your Great Ape form. It doesn't surprise you that you've never seen his transformation before. Even though it considerably increases his strength, his vanity has no limit. 

The green-haired egomaniac slams your brother into the ground, creating a blazing explosion. He stares down into the water-filled crater, and Vegeta is nowhere to be found. Your brother has gotten especially good at playing dead as of recent.

Zarbon reverts back into his base form, flying off into the distance. You wait an appropriate amount of time before heading toward the teal mass of water. You scan the lake, searching for your brother. He surfaces back up seconds later, desperately gasping for air. You extend a hand to Vegeta, pulling him onto land. 

He takes a few moments to collect himself before glaring daggers at you. "Where the--- hell did you run off to?" Despite being winded, he manages to find the breath to shout at you.

"I sensed some members of the Frieza Force. Thought I'd say hello." Believable lies are your specialty at this point.

"You can't---" He stops himself, his features softening at your expression. "Just never do that again. No more running off, especially without telling me. I'm serious this time. With Freiza here, I don't want you leaving my side again."

You can feel a familiar power level rapidly approaching, Zarbon's returning. "Change of plans. Go retrieve the Dragon Ball from that Namkian village. I tossed it in the water. I'll take care of the five that Frieza has."

"But, Vegeta." You giggle. "I'm not supposed to leave your side."

He glares at you. "Of course, now you decide to start listening to me. There is no reason for both of us to get captured. Now go!" You move to camouflage yourself again. Zarbon must need Vegeta for something. They most likely found the decimated village and want to question him about the location of the orb.

You watch Zarbon pick up your brother, who's pretending to be unconscious, and he flys away. You wait till you can no longer see Zarbon before speeding off to the Namekian village. Your plan is to retrieve the sphere and then take shelter somewhere. That is until you can sense Vegeta again.

You land in the ruins that were once the Namekian village. Damn Vegeta, did a lot of damage here. Your head snaps to the water. You swear you heard a splashing noise, and it couldn't have been a sea creature. If it was, the sound would've been louder. So what is it? Could it be one of Freiza's goons? If it is, they're probably weak. You'd be able to take them out with ease.

The creature emerges from the water with the four-star ball in his hands. He's a tiny little thing, way too small to be anyone currently in the Frieza Force. Something about the runt seems vaguely familiar. Wait a minute, that's Kakarot's brat. His hair's just shorter than it used to be. Half breeds must be able to change the length and style of their hair, fascinating. 

You sneak behind him with a blank look on your face. "What do you think you're doing, brat?"

Gohan jumps, turning around. "Y/N?" He shrieks, dropping the orb, which you swiftly catch one-handed. He looks around, anxiously searching for something or possibly someone. "Where's Vegeta?" His voice trembles just at saying your brother's name alone. Vegeta must have left quite the impression.

"Vegeta got himself---" You can feel Zarbon's impending presence once again, and the look on the brat's face tells you he can sense it too. This energy-sensing technique is becoming quite tedious, but you suppose it's better than being blindsided. What could Zarbon possibly want now? He already took Vegeta. Maybe he came to search for the Dragon Ball himself? Shit, you can't stay out in the open like this. You grab Gohan in one arm. And the four-starred ball in the other, rushing into a nearby cave. As an extra precaution, you seal the entrance with a boulder. Zarbon may be vain, but he's also significantly brighter than Dodoria was. Though that isn't very hard to do. 

You put a finger up to your lips, signaling for Gohan to keep quiet. The foot-steps outside grow louder. He must be standing right outside the cave by now. "Where are you, Vegeta?" He sounds deranged. So Vegeta did escape. Your best guess for Zarbon's erratic behavior is that Vegeta's prison break put Zarbon in hot water with Frieza. "Lord Frieza is going to have my head if I don't retrieve those Dragon Balls." Your insane brother actually did it. He stole the Dragon Balls from right under Frieza's nose. You're father's probably smiling up from hell as we speak.

You slide against the cave wall, dropping to the ground, leaning your head against the rock. You both might be here for a while. Zarbon is quite thorough with his searches. If he were to find you, it would put you in a tricky situation, especially with a Dragon Ball in your possession.

Gohan walks over to you, sitting down across from you. "Who is that?" Even though he's whispering, he's still being too loud for your liking."

"It's Zarbon. Now be quiet." You cover the orange ball in dirt and moss. If Zarbon does find you, the orb will be hidden in plain sight. Once finished with your little project, you shut your eyes. It's almost like you're alone. And not trapped in an enclosed space with your opposition's son.

"Y/N?" Your eyes snap open, immediately narrowing at the boy. You were about to reprimand him, but that was until you noticed the item in his hands. Your features soften as he extends the necklace to you.

You accept the necklace, grasping it tightly in your hands. "Thanks." A slight smile ghosts your lips before quickly vanishing.

"I was just returning what was yours." He looks at you, nervously twiddling his thumbs. "Hey Y/N? Where did you get that necklace from?" You hold up the jewelry, swinging the chain back and forth, getting lost in the memory.

Twenty-something years ago:

You're sitting down on your bed, with a book placed in your hands. Your gaze scans carefully over each word, occasionally flicking your wrist to flip the page. This is the newest piece of literature in your vast collection. You've only had this book for a few weeks. Vegeta gave it to you when he and Nappa returned from a mission off-planet. The book is all about these things called wish orbs. If you gather all seven, you can be granted all sorts of magical wishes. Vegeta says they're nothing more than a fairytale. That it's childish to believe in such an absurd concept, but you're convinced they exist. You've definitely seen stranger things occur, so it's in the realm of possibility for orbs to grant wishes. 

You hadn't even noticed that your father had entered your room. Until he was standing directly in front of you. Panic overtakes your body, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide the book under your comforter, even though it was much too late to hide the evidence. Your reaction may seem a bit extreme, but it's for a good reason. Books aren't necessarily illegal on Planet Vegeta, but they are forbidden. Your father believes that literacy is a waste of time. He considers combat training to be more essential to the prosperity of the Saiyan race.

"Relax." His gruff voice invades your ears. "I already know about the various books you hide around the palace." The king is a very observant man, making it extremely challenging to keep things from him. His general policy regarding situations like this is, he won't say anything unless someone brings it to his attention. Then he would be forced to move his hand, having to find a proper form of punishment.

"Is---Is there something you need?" It's not like him to drop by unannounced. Your father is a very busy man, sometimes you won't even see him for months at a time.

"As you know, you're going on a crucial mission tomorrow. Are you going to behave for your brother?" You nod in agreement. "You are also not to leave his side, do you understand me?" Ever since the incident, you're not allowed off-planet without either your father or Vegeta. One of them has to watch you like a hawk at all times because of one stupid mistake. That will probably be held over your head for the rest of your mortal life.

"Yes, sir." You decide to give him verbal confirmation as well. This way, you can avoid any potential lectures.

"Now, let's get down to business. While I was out on my last excursion. I found this piece of junk with my things. I thought I'd check if you wanted it before I destroyed it." He holds up the necklace. The pendant immediately catches your eye. It's one of the pictures from your book, the four-star wish orb. 

You nod, accepting the gift. You wrap the chain around your wrist, toying with the trinket. You've gotten pretty good at reading between the lines when it comes to your father. Saiyans aren't meant to express their emotions. You're raised to suppress them. Your father picks up on little things, like the fact that you're currently obsessed with wish orbs. You and Vegeta had to have gotten your conflicting behaviors from somewhere. And that somewhere was your father. The King of all Saiyans, the most ruthless of them all, deeply cared for his children.

He places his hands on your shoulders, causing you to look up at him. His eyes flicker with vulnerability as you stare at him. "Listen to me. Vegeta needs you just as much as you need him. You are capable of things that he isn't. And you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are my sole daughter, the pinnacle of Saiyan pride. Never forget where you came from."

"A-Are you alright? You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, Y/N. Now get to sleep. You have to be up early." He leans down, kissing the top of your head before exiting the room. This only elevates your confusion. Your father has never done that before. Physical affection is not something Saiyan's participate in. At least they aren't supposed to. 

Little did you know, this would be the last time you ever saw your father alive. Looking back on it, as an adult, his strange behavior makes sense. This was his way of saying goodbye. He must have had some inkling about Frieza's plans for your race.

You snap back into reality, shifting your gaze to Gohan. Typically when you spaced out, it would irritate your companions. Maybe it would even earn you a scolding from Vegeta. But the kid has just been sitting there, keenly anticipating your response.

"My father gave it to me." Your tone softens. Nostalgia sometimes does that to you. Gohan is the first person you've ever told the origin of your necklace. It wasn't necessarily a secret. You've just never felt the need to talk about it.

Some Final Notes:

"Wasn't he the king, though? Couldn't he have given you a diamond or gold necklace? Or something fit for royalty?"

"He could have. It was more about the sentiment behind the necklace." And with that, the silence returns. Being in this cave really reminds you of your pod. Scratch that it's worse. The brat is just too nice to the point where it's nauseating. For the half-breed's sake, you hope that Zarbon leaves soon. Because you're not sure how much more of this you'll be able to take.

-

Some Final Notes:

I know some of you might think King Vegeta was a bit out of character. However, I believe King Vegeta did care for his children to an extent. I know there’s some confusion in the fanbase about Tarble, whether he’s canon or not. But since the script for Yo! Son Goku and His Friends Return!!! was a concept created by Akira Toriyama. I personally believe Tarble is cannon. So King Vegeta banishing his son, rather than executing him, does show he had empathy for Tarble, even though he was viewed as a disgrace on his entire bloodline.

[mr-crawleigh]

I suppose that I can really only speak for myself, it's true. And, well... Nobody really wants to talk about it, and I can hardly blame them.

Upstairs seems very somber about it. They speak respectfully of their fallen comrades and their intentions, say they put up good fights, that they only wanted to make sure that everyone had an equal share in the World to Come. It's not their fault the boss rejected the scheme, etc. etc.

I don't say much to them, You know. Or at least I try to be vague, but I do so want to be helpful. I'm afraid I probably come off rather mealy-mouthed, like a pastor who never leaves his office.

"Where's God?"

"Everywhere, as She Has Always Been."

"No really, where is She?"

"On Earth as She is in Heaven. Can't say much more than that, I'm Afraid. But I'm certain She'll be delighted to know that You're Asking after Her. She does so Love to Know that Her children are always Keeping Her In Mind."

"Oh no, don't -- don't Tell Her I Asked. Don't Tell Her that I Asked Any Thing."

"No? No Questions about the Test results, then?"

"No, Sir. Glad to Hear that you're Keeping Downstairs Under Control, Sir."

Usually they stiffen up and if I don't do something quickly they might even salute. Eugh. I can never return one of those without feeling faintly as though I'm going to be barred from tourism in Germany.

Anyway, then I've got to make sure they understand that they're only to push patches through if they keep their Karmic Error Rate from -- well, I'm getting technical again, but the point is to try to find and fix faults in the software and hardware that cause the problems we don't want, and to interact as little with the actual--

We don't want to go around smiting people one by one individually any more, that's the point. Beyond anything else, it's just staggeringly inefficient for the resources we have. We need to find ways to encourage or discourage the behavior we want or don't want by building the reward delivery mechanism into the system itself.

Like...

If you hit someone in the face, you feel the pain, the impact, and get the bruise.

If you share half your sandwich with a pigeon, you feel as full as if you ate the whole sandwich.

Obviously we don't want one hundred percent or more efficiency because that would do weird things to Free Will and Causality, but I would prefer to adjust various settings for this value slowly upwards until we find something that keeps us in a sustainable cycle.

Downstairs, they're a little more eager to talk about their prowess and how many of their brethren they smote in the fight, but when I tell them that Upstairs remembers them all fondly and believes that they had good intentions and ideas that they're still trying to work on, that they have silent allies guarding the Clouds (some of our transitional data storage facilities--this may Mean more to You if You were one of the code developers, I wasn't) and watching over their every efforts, listening to what they have to say, and making the World a better place for every One in it...

Well, they get rather fond, and then I think they really just take more pride in their work. They focus more.

Really, it gets you so far, just being kind.

@morningbloodystar I'm sorry I can't be much more informative, but-- well, I suppose I've already told You far more than I've ever told anyone from My universe.

I can really only imagine what might have happened if I had popped out for my midmorning tea break instead of deciding to push through until lunch.

I have made a flowchart to simplify all this multiverse crap.

My main aim from here is to get @four-leaf-clover-tycho (hi! I’m not your dad either! It’s probably easiest to think of me as an uncle!) out of the mystery box.

If you can just tell me where your timeline diverts, we can make this whole situation a bit less complicated.

[suganovakawa]

for the night.

— in which atsumu miya takes you to see a firework show, and you’re left conflicted.

general masterlist.

⠀from the beginning, you never could bring yourself to say no to atsumu, who had you like putty in those perfectly calloused hands of his. tonight was no different, every nerve in your body made to fight him off dissipated in that foxy grin of his, butterflies swarming in your stomach where it shouldn't be.

there was a firework show tonight - you knew not of the occasion that accompanied such an activity. with no context, he begged you to come along with him, to watch the lights paint the night sky with no other occasion other than just for the thrill of it. with nothing better to do you gave in to the stubborn blond, who dragged you along before you could change your mind.

"'tsumu, is this really that big of a deal to you?"

"sure is, sweetheart. this is my favorite time of year, i come here on the dot to watch this beauty. 'samu doesn't even know about this place, just me. this year is special, 'cause i get to bring you."

you should've been happy. your heart should've been leaping out of your chest, jumping for joy with nothing but the happiest smile on your face at the knowledge that your fellow classmate was willing to share such a magical secret with you. but where euphoria was supposed to be, only a cloud of disappointment rained over you.

"first one to cave in on our little game first loses, darling. i get braggin' rights if i win, and i'll leave you alone for the rest of eternity if you win. simple trade, but i already how this game ends."

many things can happen over the course of three months. the intent wasn't to make miya atsumu fall in love with you, oh no. that was never your goal from the beginning - you just wanted him to leave you alone. you weren't interested in the inarizaki setter's flings, he could do him for all you cared. seeing your lack of care damaged his pride, and thus acted upon it spontaneously, much to your dismay.

things became dangerous for you when you began enjoying this little game, actually looking forward to everyday with each passing month. the last day was just around the corner, and you hadn't caved in yet. but it sure as hell was getting harder and harder by the second. there were times you wanted to cave in just from the attention itself - then there were the days you could've probably gone a year into the game and still never cave in.

you were silent as atsumu pulled you to under a tree, forcing you to sit down with a gentle push downwards, prompting you to sit beside him. nothing but the stars were above the endless sky; the fireworks hadn't started yet, and you noticed the excited gleam in those eyes of his. his genuinity startled you, your mouth slightly agape before pulling yourself together.

"thanks for coming today, y/n. i'm sure it wasn't the easiest being pulled here last minute."

"it's nothing. might as well entertain you in the time we have left, y'know?"

mentioning the deadline seemed to have struck him sourly, curtly nodding his head with a soft "yeah" before looking back up at the stars. you bit your tongue and turned your eyes elsewhere, you didn't want to fall for it. you knew he was the meticulous, manipulative type. he knew what could tug at your heart strings, and by god it was working - working much more than you'd like to admit.

you wanted him to leave you alone. this was why you naively joined this ridiculous game of his. looking back now, agreeing to this was pretty stupid, but almost three months deep, the only way to back out now was to cave in. you had too much of your own pride and patience to do that.

the first one to emerge in the sky you hardly noticed, just a sparkle in the back of your eye to guide you back upwards. you felt a tapping on your hand as extra reminder, watching the blond male's lips curve up into a calm smile as he leaned back and relaxed upwards to get a good shot of the view above.

he looked so peaceful, unlike anything you had ever seen before.

your ears took in the sounds one by one, watching as the lights decorated the sky with vibrant, dazzling colors. atsumu was right - they truly were a sight to behold when you see them in the perfect location. though you wanted to pay attention to the show above you, your mind was focused on the individual beside you, your brain and heart playing tricks on each other as you two momentarily shared eye contact with one another.

he looked so happy in this present moment. you were almost jealous.

it didn't strike to you that your body was moving on its own until you felt your head rest upon atsumu's shoulder, both of you flinching at the sudden contact. you were afraid of the setter calling you out for it, bracing yourself for the worst before feeling a hand delicately snaking around you, only pulling you closer in place of a usual joke or flirty remark.

the two puzzle pieces fit together undoubtedly, confusing your heart even more. whatever was happening, you were unable to fight it. it was your fault for being naive, you should've seen this coming. atsumu miya was right, he knew exactly how this game was going to end. but you were done fighting.

even if it was only for tonight, you pushed closer against atsumu and closed your eyes to indulge in the moment, the fireworks ringing in the background like white noise. it was easier to pretend that everything in this present moment was real, and whatever awaited you tomorrow was for later.

just for the night, you allowed your heart to be naive one more time.

gen taglist ( open ) — @yams046 @janellion @avylee @kac-chowballs

[thehubby]

Mike I need help. Every single time my players hit town they shop. Even if we had just gotten a bunch of stuff in the last session, and they swore up and down they didn't need *anything else*, they still go immediately to shop for more things and I'm getting frustrated and bored. We just had four weeks worth of sessions like this and I'm at the end of my patience. I had to shut the session down tonight before we even started because I said "we did a lot of shopping yesterday, so why don't we speed that up and leave town since there's nothing else you need." They immediately vetoed the idea and said no, actually, there was stuff they wanted to shop for!! Even though we just spent SIX HOURS shopping and talking to npcs yesterday!! My brain hit a wall and I had to tell them "I'm done, I can't do this anymore."

Help me MikeyWan Kenobi. You're my only hope.

Long post ahead.

I am here for you, Anon. I feel your pain. Actually, that's unfair of me -- I understand your pain but have not experienced it myself because my table of players is very well balanced, and although one or two of them have an affinity for shopping, it's partly my fault for making so many homebrew items and letting them occasionally nab a few from shops. Still, the other players at the table keep them in line and keep the game moving reasonably. It sounds like your entire table (or at least the majority) is driving you crazy in this regard, which is a more difficult challenge.

Here are my suggestions. I can't guarantee that they will work against diehard shopaholics, but this general flow often works for obsessive player behavior in general (murder-hoboing, insistence on lots of combat, refusal to fight, power-playing, and so on). You may tackle any or all of these in whatever order you think will benefit your group. You know your players better than I.

Figure out and understand why your players are doing this. There could be lots of reasons. Some players, particularly long-time veterans (who were often brought up in "Monty Haul" adventures) or raised on modern MMOs and computer RPGs, become driven by the acquisition of items -- to them, if their character isn't adorned like a Christmas tree, they aren't a success. There are also players who have "big spender" syndrome, an actual behavioral condition that exhibits in tabletop and digital RPGS: the player believes that their rise to power and success as a character can only be evidenced when they demonstrate their wealth. Not to put on my Psych 101 hat, but this is sometimes a projection of the player's own worldviews and experiences with wealth (or lack thereof; after all, some people play games like this as an escape from the reality of their own hardships). In addition to staying at upscale inns (if they haven't acquired their own property) and eating fine foods (if they haven't sought out a private chef on retainer), their characters also interact with a lot of shopkeepers, who are generally pleased to see people laden with coin and interested in their wares. I mean, who doesn't like being able to throw around money for the latest glimmering bauble while the sales associate waits ever patiently? But for some, it goes much further, and can be every bit the same pleasure as getting the killing blow on that blue dragon. And finally, some players are really just there for the talking. That's their whole bag. They would be happy putting all their skill points into Diplomacy, Intimidate, Sense Motive and using every stat as a dump except Charisma. It's weird, given the combat-oriented nature of the game, but those people really do exist.

Understanding the motivation behind your player behaviors will give you the best chance of curtailing that behavior in a way that satisfies both you and them.

You said your players vetoed leaving town and immediately said that there were things they wanted to shop for. My question, were I in your shoes and with your level of frustration, would be to ask what such things were, and if the characters had a legitimate need for the items. If the characters know what they are looking for, you as GM can immediately determine if they're available in town, and if they're exotic, perhaps there might be some searching or wheeling and dealing to even find where they are sold. If the players are looking for typical fare like more healing potions or a replacement for those +1 arrows they used up, this is easily handled without a 20 minute chat-fest, especially if it's your third such today. If the players don't know what they want, and just want to see what's available, don't hesitate to ask them why they believe they are ill-equipped for their continuing adventures despite you or NPCs telling them as such.

Such behavior can also be forcibly slowed or even stopped through the world-controlling power you wield as the GM, although if not handled delicately, this can significantly raise tensions at the table. The PCs, having arrived in town after a week subduing trolls in the Sootblack Hills, find that the stores are all but empty of magic items. Even the most basic potions and scrolls are a crapshoot to find; they might scour the entire city in search of any place that even has a magic weapon available? Why? Plenty of reasons. War has broken out, and supplies for every city in a couple hundred miles have been bought up or seized by the warring factions. Perhaps the ruling monarch (or council or whatever) has decreed for unknown reasons that the manufacture and sale of magical items is forbidden, punishable by imprisonment. An ancient order may have been awoken and has begun the theft or destruction of arcane equipment -- except for their own, of course. These turns of events might cause the PCs' own equipment to become even more valuable (or a threat to their safety) -- but any newfound wealth will do them little good with nothing magical to buy. All of these and similar actions are only stop-gaps; eventually, the PCs would be expected to help resolve the war, overthrow the sovereign, defeat the ancient order, or whatever is in their way. And then you're back to where you are now.

Always keep in mind the Wealth By Level restrictions for characters. This represents how much wealth a character possesses at any one time for their level (some GMs take a more stringent view that it represents the total wealth a PC will have accrued by that point in their career, so if the players fritter it away on women and chimichangas, tough noogies.) Characters can only buy things if they have the wealth to do so. Selling items they don't want comes with a steep penalty. Even in great condition, shops rarely pay more than half price for an item due to taxes, restocking fees, how long it might take to sell, and so on. What this ultimately comes down to is that you control just how much these characters can buy and sell. They can only buy items if they have the coin, and they can only get the coin that you give them, or a lesser value for selling items they don't want. Become more stringent with money. At some point, the money runs out, and selling hard-earned loot for half its value stops being so fun. Do you really want to lose effectively 2,000 gold crowns for selling that +2 axe, or do you want to maybe put it to some use and come out more powerful than you would have buying some weaker item with the proceeds? If players decline to ever sell their equipment yet still expect to find new equipment, you can accommodate them by destroying their equipment. Enemies can sunder weapons and armor; a number of spells, magical effects or environmental hazards can deal damage to and potentially break anything exposed to them. This isn't being vengeful; it's being a good GM. [I remember watching Critical Role and over many episodes, perhaps the most traumatic and thrilling experience the players had (apart from character deaths) was when their beloved flying carpet was eaten by acid or lava or something. But it was a natural consequence of their actions, and they took it in stride, as they should.]

Finally, as with all things, you are the law. I always, always recommend talking with your players, either individually or as a table if needed, to tackle either your own frustrations or those of one or more players. But if push comes to shove, it's your game. You (presumably) respect the players by coming up with adventures, scenarios, NPCs, locations and all sorts of other stuff for them to tackle in a manner you expect to be fun. If they refuse to respect your preparation time and the time you spend at the table, by insisting to engage in continuous, pointless NPC discussions despite you expressing your dissatisfaction, then tell them you can't do it anymore. It isn't fun for you, and if the only way that they can have fun is in a way that is directly contradictory to you having fun, the game isn't going to work, period. If they sincerely change, fantastic; try to accommodate their need for shopping when you can and get on with the grand story at other times. If they refuse to change, leave them and get another table. That last part isn't always easy to do, and depending on your area, it might take a while to get another game going, but often a table where you're not having fun (and working hard to do it) is worse than no table at all. I wish you luck.

[elytrafemme]

1, 3, 5?

1. Name a game that is really important to you.

elder scrolls V: skyrim.

i grew up with this game. i love this game. i know this game essentially like the back of my hand, and i think, give or take about 7 different miniquests, there's a single quest i don't know about. i know the characters and the dialogue and the plotline and everything. i absolutely adore skyrim; it's everything to me. god bless.

[ the rest are under the cut because i rambled with question 5 ]

3. Recommend a game to the asker.

hm okay, you are anonymous so i don't have anything specific here but? i'm pretty fond of the game firewatch, so there you go!

firewatch is a game from the perspective of a man who, as described in a brief prologue with a few choices the player can select that loosely carries out the narrative, goes to take a summer job working as a firewatch in a park. it's story-based but also open world, so you can explore the grounds, and it has absolutely beautiful graphics. i find the characters to be pretty interesting, though there are few-- the main ones being the protagonist and his companion, delilah, who instructs you on your job essentially. i just think it's a neat game, not the quickest to knock out if you want to explore everywhere but not super long either, and it's really lovely.

5. Name a game that that everyone else didn’t care for that you enjoyed.

soul calibur III.

the soul calibur franchise overall is not exactly unpopular, but a lot of people that i've spoken to don't really know what is it, and if they do, haven't played much of it. i mean, it's worth it to consider my age range here i guess, i think my brother had more friends familiar with it so if you take this a decade back, it may be different.

soul calibur is a franchise dating back to 1995 with an arcade game known as soul edge, and from then, more games have come out on varying consoles, the latest release being 2018 with soul calibur VI (which would be considered the seventh game in the franchise overall). it's a fighting game with a myriad of characters made by the same company who created tekken, but the characters all are really fascinating and though the plot line is a little all over the place, i'm still incredibly endeared to it. there's a storyline to the fighting, too, so you can do arenas but also play out the main story of each of your characters-- the story works so that every character has their own individual plot, but the next game picks one specific canon to proceed with (this is excluding soul calibur V and soul calibur VI, which is another discussion plot wise that i won't indulge in because i have written far too much thus far).

soul calibur III is not the first game that i played of the series, but it's the first one that i remember playing as well as my favorite by far. i absolutely love the cast of characters, the plethora of stages to play in is a treat that i wish we had in other games admittedly, positively loved the music and the aesthetics and everything, i thought the story mode was fairly interesting, and the bonus mode (every game has one past soul calibur I, i think, i know II had one and up to VII has one, not sure about the older games though) was my favorite out of all the games. i love this game to death and i know so few people care about it, but it means everything to me. it's still in my heart the first fandom i really knew about, even if it wasn't the first i took part in. it's what introduced me to fanfiction, at least (though that was the fault of soul calibur V, tbf)

[ ask game here! ]

[script-a-world]

Clearly there are some settings which make no sense scientifically. But how do I decide when to intentionally ignore reality, can't bother to do research, don't understand research, and thus create scientifically impossible places? When are such things considered be offensive or overused cliche or have a reader point out the impossibility and can't get into the story? I'm guessing some of this might be structural issues instead of world building?

Tex: One of the perils of attempting to write about highly technical subjects is that you run into the issue of not understanding your writing. I do raise a nominal objection as your first sentence, because sensibility is a sliding scale based on one’s familiarity with a given subject. I don’t know crap about, say, textile art (however much I might have bluffed readers in the past - no, no, this is just good googling skills on my end), but that doesn’t mean the textile arts are an inherently incomprehensible subject.

Scientifically, automobiles were once thought to be insensible. Scientifically, phones were thought to be a flight of fancy. Scientifically, 3D printing was improbable. Scientifically, quantum computing was the stuff of sci-fi nerds who just wanted to slap the “quantum” label on everything.

And yet we are now on the verge of robotic vehicles, mostly functional smartwatches, laser printing cells (PDF), and quantum computers (VentureBeat, IBM).

So I would argue that the insensibility of a setting would be due mostly to, yes, a structural issue - on the part of the author. No matter what you put into your world, internal consistency is key; nothing, no matter how ostensibly outlandish, will make sense if you contradict yourself.

I’ll volley a few questions back to you:

“[...] when to intentionally ignore reality” - Are you ignoring reality entirely, or just parts of it? Why? How does that decision benefit your world? How does it detract from your world?

“Can’t bother to do research” - Is it because you are discouraged by the breadth of your comprehension of a subject, compared to the subject’s depth? Or is it because of something else?

“Don’t understand research” - Is this because you don’t understand the academic papers that turn up in your search results, or because you have a fundamental lack of or misunderstanding of the given subject? Or is it because of something else?

“When are such things considered to be offensive or overused cliche” - As someone who intentionally arranges their studying around the plausibilities of the future, I would quite frankly be delighted to see more conceptual stretches of the imagination in this regard, as do many others on this blog, and beyond it. Why have you already passed judgement on the offensiveness or clichéd-ness of incorporating scientific things? Is this related to your other comments?

“[...] or have a reader point out the impossibility and can’t get into the story?” - If you are writing to please a specific individual or demographic, you are inevitably always going to fall short, because it’s genuinely impossible to meet every single item on a group’s wishlist without devoting your life to it (not an entirely worthy pursuit, in my opinion, but alas). What made you decide to be so concerned over the potential reaction to your stories that you worry about it before the story is even written?

I think I will put the majority of my curiosity’s weight on the last bullet point, as I’m seeing similar themes with the other portions of your question. It’s a fruitless endeavour to tie yourself into knots over a possible (not necessarily probable!) reaction - and quite likely from a stranger, to boot. Education is a relatively easy situation to fix, so long as you’re patient with yourself; dealing with anxieties over readers is… not so easy.

I can really only recommend that you take a close look at the goals of your worldbuilding, and see where you contradict yourself - once you have that in hand, it’s a relatively simple yes/no process of what concepts you want to keep. If the issue of decision comes from a lack of understanding, then make a note to yourself to seek out either the million wikis we Pylons utilize ourselves like any other worldbuilder, or to chalk it up as a genuine lack of context.

Please understand that even someone who’s dedicated their life to a certain aspect of science won’t know everything about it - that’s the point of research! We’re constantly asking ourselves questions, and pushing the envelope of known boundaries. Star Wars has lightsabers, but we don’t need to know how they work; likewise with holodecks in Star Trek. So long as an audience is reasonably entertained with the least amount of head-scratching, you can get away with handwaving quite a lot.

Lockea: On a scale between Star Trek and Star Wars, how “hard” is your science fiction?

I mention that mostly to illustrate that science fiction exists on a continuum, wherein science fiction with more “science” than “fiction” drives a story towards the harder end rather than the softer end. Also, a story’s place on the continuum will change based on what we know and understand about science.

I feel like everyone always beats me to saying all the important stuff about questions, so I’ll just give a few thoughts from my personal experience as a science fiction fan with two engineering degrees and a thesis about robots on the moon (yes really, I wrote my thesis on AI for moon robots). I really, really, love the creativity of science fiction writers. I think so often in defending the genre, we can get caught up in saying things like “science fiction predicted XYZ!” Well, sure, I may have studied Isaac Asimov’s three laws of robotics in my introduction to engineering ethics course, but I was also greedily reading my way through “The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins at the same time. The fact that I sincerely doubt Panem will ever happen didn’t dampen my enjoyment of Katniss’s story. It was a fun read and it gave my friends and I something to talk about that wasn’t “feasibility of Battlestar Galactica” during our daily lunches.

The thing about writing science fiction is that, without a doubt, there will be someone who knows more than you about a topic who reads your story. Most of the time, I end up being that someone since everyone likes to talk about Skynet and robots taking over the world to a roboticist who sincerely refers to artificial intelligence as artificial stupidity. Y'all are seriously overestimating the field, my friends. Nonetheless, I still enjoyed “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” even as I thought how impossible Project Insight would be. Honestly, something every READER of science fiction needs to make peace with is the fact that writers will get something wrong. Writers, despite their best efforts, are not always going to understand that a facial recognition algorithm will fail if you introduce tiny amounts of random noise and are thus going to treat The Algorithm™ as infallible in your crime drama novel.

It’s not the writer’s fault, though.

That deserves to be on its own line. It is not YOUR fault if you get something wrong. Would it be nice if science literacy was just better all around? Of course! But it’s not your fault if your science literacy isn’t up to snuff enough to parse the article I cited above. It’s also not your job. Your job as the writer is to tell the most interesting story you can and to maintain your own internal rules and logic such that the reader never breaks the willing suspension of disbelief.

I watch Star Wars and get really into the light saber fight scenes and forget that light sabers are basically impossible to make. Star Wars has the Force, which is basically magic, and that’s okay. Really. I KNOW it’s not possible, but I still have a lot of fun watching it!

So yeah, write that story about how the robots are going to take over the world. I’ll probably enjoy reading it even as I laugh off my friends telling me that I will be the first to die in the robot apocalypse (of course I will -- I have five robots in my living room alone).

Constablewrites: Tone and consistency are the biggest pieces of this for me. If it’s the kind of story where the answer to “How does this work?” is usually a detailed and plausible explanation, then getting an answer later that is implausible or slapdash will stand out more. But if it’s the kind of story where the answer to “How does this work?” is “You push that button and it goes whoosh” from the start, my expectations adjust accordingly. (It’s possible to have the latter version in a story that is mostly the former, frequently when it’s played for last. Again, tone is key.)

So yeah, a lot of this is execution and the way the story sticks to the rules it sets for itself, and also how central the implausibility is to the story. A realistic thriller that relies on cartoon logic for a background bit might be a little jarring, but not nearly as much as a realistic thriller that relies on cartoon logic to set up its main showdown. The more central it is to the story, the more consistency and accuracy matters. Learning how to balance this can take some practice and some insight from beta readers.

[legolaslovely]

Dude I've been wanting to write a Fanfic about this, but I was wondering what your thoughts on it would be, so I hope it's ok if I ask. How do you think Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Thorin, Bofur, Ori and Thranduil would react to their really petite and small s/o always being covered in really bad and bloody scars, scabs and bruises, though they barely even acknowledge them really. I feel like they'd all freak out, but I'm wondering what their individual reactions would be. What do you think? Thanks!

What a great idea! I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas! What a challenge this was- I’m not used to working this way and I’ve never really touched some of these characters! But very fun! They’re all in different tenses, sorry, but just stick with me here haha! Thanks for sending this in, and please anyone share with us your ideas!

Fili: He’d be so mad at you. At first when this was happening, when you’d come home covered in bruises and cuts, nothing was your fault. You were the victim here and he’d find whoever did this. Then, as time went on, he discovered you were the one starting the trouble or looking for trouble or you were just clumsy sometimes. Then he’d start in on you. No more. I need you safe. I already have a Kili to babysit, I can’t watch you all the time too. He’d dig right into you, be so mad, every new injury just added to his temper explosion. Then a big sigh and a huff would come and he’d be next to you on the bed, softly kissing every scar and bruise before rubbing ointment over them to help them heal. He’d lay you next to him and his fingers would twirl over your skin until you fell asleep and he’d curse himself for never being able to stay mad at you for long.

Kili: He’d be upset. It would break his heart to see you injured like this all the time. Despite your protests and soft pushes, he’d patch you up. And while he’s inspecting your newest scar, he’d tilt his head and smirk. I have a scar just like that. And he’d pull up his tunic and show you and tell you the story of how he got it. But that’s not as bad as this one, he’d say, showing you another one. And you’d spend the night going back and forth, sharing your battle and bar fight stories until he wraps you up in his arms and tells you he doesn’t want to see any more scars on you anymore. And I’ll know if there’s a new one.

Bilbo: Bilbo would just roll his eyes at you when you come through the door with a new injury. He’d storm away from you, babbling on with waving hands. There you go again. You’re no hobbit. You run to trouble like some dwarf. Always a new bruise or scar to add to your collection. Are you proud of yourself? But all the time he’s scolding you, he’s running around making tea and bringing out cakes and bandages and ointments and he pushes you into a chair and starts taking care of you. No more of this. And then his voice softens and he runs his fingertips down your cheek and tries to tell you how much you worry him and how much he hates seeing you like this but he can’t quite get it out, but you know anyway.

Thorin: Oooh, he’d yell at you. Why are you so reckless? Why do you go looking for trouble? He can’t keep his eyes on you every moment of the day, he has a kingdom to rule! Be more responsible. You’d expect him to storm off, but he never goes to far, he just turns from you to hide his own emotion. He can’t bear to see you so injured, even when it seems you don’t care. But only minutes go by and he’s back next to you, lifting your chin and asking you softly to be more careful. He couldn’t stand to lose you.

Bofur: The second he sees you, the hat comes off and a little, quiet Lass comes out. He rushes over to you, warm hands on your cheeks. What happened? Are you all right? You try to push him away, say it’s nothing, but he’s sitting you down, taking care of you, soft little hums and winces escaping as he’s going over your injuries. Then, when you’re patched up, his temper starts to flare. He wants to know who did it. Not even why or where, just who. You don’t tell him, he makes an assumption and he’s out the door and only comes back inside when you chase him down and pull him to you, saying all you need right now is him. And he’s still mad but he’s holding you and singing to you, but he’s still mad. At least that’s what he says.

Ori: He would be absolutely terrified every time he saw you with a new injury. He knew this about you from the beginning- you had a temper, you’d get into trouble, you were a warrior, whatever it is, and at first it would scare him away from you but he really couldn’t help falling for you and your bravery and fierceness. But that doesn’t mean you don’t terrify him sometimes. You’d have to talk him down from running across the mountain to get Oin and you’d bandage yourself while he watched closely and helped with the little things, all pretty much silent until he asks you to be more careful and hugs you very tight like maybe he can keep you here with him if he doesn’t let go.

Thranduil: Sooo stoic and soo still and he’d just look at you and see a new bruise and slowly walk over to you, staring at the injury. You’d be able to see his jaw clench and his eyes narrow as he ran a gentle finger over the darkened spot. His eyes would flick up to yours and he’d say (the classic) Who did this to you? And you’d have to talk him down from murdering that person in the most gruesome way he can think of- even if it was an accidental elbowing or something.