#also he told us that if we want it as cheap as possible we should do it at home no matter how weird it sounds so idk man

[punk-in-metal-detector]

is it too much to ask for a decent fucking piercer

One is insanely expensive forgetting he operates in a small town ig and the other one is a masive dick like come one

[thatbadadvice]

I (15f) am slightly worried that I led on some guys I did not mean to lead on.

There are two guys that I've hung out with over longer spans of time or regularly.

1. Hung out with him for several hours non-stop cause he was fun to hang out with, and we took a walk in the forest aswell, he got (slightly) touchy but not that much.

2. Works in a shop in my small city and I go there almost weekly just to hang out but always buy something, he sometimes offers me drinks for free (twice by now) or reduces the price.

They both got my insta too

However, the problem is that a) I'm not looking for a relationship and, more importantly, b) they are both in their 20s.

I took care to mention that I am only 15 to both of them but idk if that changed anything. Any advice? I also don't want to confront them directly cause I might have just interpreted it like this.

Hello, anonymous!

Thank you for writing in. I am delighted to inform you that you have excellent judgment for wondering what the hell is going on here, and for questioning these guys' behavior toward you.

Grown-ass men — and that is what dudes in their 20s are — bear the burden of not being weird to, for, or about young women of your age. It is the grown-ass men of the world who are obligated not to make you, or young women like you, feel weird about literally anything. In fact, grown-ass men should go out of their way, on purpose and with gusto, NEVER to get even within ten million football fields' worth of "(slightly) touchy" with a gal of your age. So that's my read on Mr. Walk In The Woods. I have less to say definitively about Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks, but I trust your judgment: if you feel like Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks is sending some ~ signals ~, you're right about it.

It sounds like both of these Grown-Ass Men are trying to make pretty creepo moves, so let me be clear: nothing you could ever do could even possibly in the most remote sense amount to "leading them on," because you are not responsible for the behavior of Grown-Ass Men.

I think you know this, or you wouldn't be asking the Bad Advisor this question. You know they're being weird. You know you haven't done anything beyond exist in these dudes' general sphere, which you are entitled to do! You are allowed to exist in the world without having to swat off the advances of older guys! It really sucks that girls and women can just be living our regular-ass lives and have dudes be at us like this. But you're not responsible for their decisions — whether it's a decision to offer you free/cheap drinks (with strings attached, implied) or to get (slightly) handsy during a walk in the woods.

The fact that you told both of these Grown-Ass Men explicitly that you are 15 years old should have sent both of them spinning back into the sun with shame and embarrassment, not that they probably needed it spelled out, but GOOD ON YOU for making it so clear. That is actually terribly brave of you, and they should have fallen all over themselves to not fall all over you subsequently. They should be mortified about their behavior.

You did not misinterpret their actions; and if you did, who cares? Some dudes who weren't hitting on a 15-year-old will continue to not hit on a 15-year-old? Girl, your self-preservation instinct is INTACT and WORKING. It's on them not to be creepos. Any Grown-Ass Man who is on the level and not a weirdo would 1000000000000% never need to be told "Hey dude, I'm 15" in the first place. You have good judgment. You are reading these men correctly.

So what do you do about your good judgment? Well, first — no more walks in the woods. Suddenly you have an urgent appointment that precludes all walks in woods! The benefit-of-the-doubt ship has sailed. Dude got handsy and you dislike it. Dunzo. You are unavailable for future walks in woods (or anywhere). You've got a test to study for, a practice to go to, some buddies to hang out with elsewhere. So sorry, no-can. Dude can find a 20-to-90-something-year-old woman to paw up under the canopy if that's his jam. There are scores of women his age and older who'd be glad (i guess?) to get felt up while some dude shoves them ~ romantically ~ against the bark of a moldy Hackberry.

As for Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks — look, I appreciate the appeal of a discount beverage — but I think you gotta be prepared to aggressively (politely) pay for your drinks. Dude says "This one is on the house" and you DGAF, because you've got $5 cash and you're laying it on the counter with a smile and saying "I really appreciate it, but I'd like to pay for my drink — you get it!"

It's the "you get it!" that's really the key here. It's polite, but clear. It demands that these Grown-Ass Dudes do the work of not getting it and saying so if they're gonna be that dippy about it. You can use it on Mr. Handsy In The Woods, too. You can't do X, Y, Z because Reasons -- "Gotta get back to piano practice, it would be weird if I stayed here, since we're just friends! You get it!"

You shouldn't have to do the work of offering these dippos the "you get it" out, but it's a safe and reliable way of making it clear that they better the fuck get it. Like, they better the fuck understand that you are 15 and they are being weird about this whole deal.

Practice:

"Oh, I'd like to chill but doing another big long hang alone together would make it seem like we're going out or something, and that would be weird -- you get it."

"I appreciate the discount, but if I keep taking these drinks, it'll seem like you LIKE me or something. That's weird, right? You get it!"

If either of these Grown-Ass Men gets sketchy about these very polite brush-offs, that shit is on them and will only confirm what you know: you have great judgment. These dudes are weird. If they're going to be weird, you can be so polite that they have to explain why, specifically, they are being weird and don't understand what you are politely saying, which is that their interest in you is weird.

You have not led these Grown-Ass Men on by existing in their universe. You have not led them on by being polite to them and tolerating their inappropriate advances to preserve your own safety. The concept of "leading on" is bullshit, fucked up, heteronormative dipshittery that puts the burden on women, mostly, to account for the crappy behavior of men who can, do, and should know better. I assure you these men know better, and they think you don't. That's why older guys pursue younger and teen women in the first place — they think they get to be the big men in charge, because they're afraid they can't manipulate women their own age.

Here's what, though: they can't manipulate you, either. You are clever, self-possessed and a great self-advocate. They're being weird. You're being smart. Make sure they know it.

[teecupangel]

@thedragonqueen1998's reply to this post

That new tag actually is an idea/AU i've thought of lately. XD Where Desmond gives birth to Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton before being kidnapped. I've personally had him just suddenly become pregnant, no sex needed to lean more into the "Desmond is the Chosen One". XD Plus, we need more Dadmond tbh.

Virgin Birth.

Desmond had never even heard about it until he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

This is, according to Wikipedia, different from Immaculate Conception.

Desmond would like to reiterate that he was not the second coming of Virgin Mary.

… as far as he knew.

Not only that, he had been a virgin before he gave birth, having enough trust issues to fill a goddamn dam at the moment.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to know how sex feels like.

It was more that he was still scared that his father or someone his father sent would come find him and take him away from this freedom.

He can’t go back.

He would never go back.

Especially now that he had three sons to think of.

They were born on December 21, 2005.

At least, that was what Desmond believed.

The morning of December 21, his stomach started hurting so badly he couldn’t leave his bed. The pain ebbed and flowed from paralyzing pain to almost unnoticeable, giving Desmond a chance to text that he wouldn’t make it to his shift because of ‘stomachaches’.

His boss assumed he had diarrhea and told him to stop eating weird cheap shit.

Desmond was pretty sure that wasn’t it but it wasn’t like he could go to a clinic and get this check out.

Clinics meant asking questions about who he was and his history.

Clinics left tracks that William Miles can find.

Desmond knew how the game is played.

And fuck that. Desmond wasn’t going to give up his goddamn freedom because of a stomachache.

It will come to pass.

Like every pain Desmond ever felt.

So he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling, timing his breathing to the ebb and flow of the pain.

By midday…

Desmond fell asleep.

He didn’t know if the breathing helped him fall asleep or if he had passed out from the exhaustion and pain.

When he woke up, the sun had started to set and…

The pain was gone.

His bed was a lost cause, covered in blood, but Desmond’s attention was focused on the three small forms lying on the bed between his legs.

His sons.

Three bloodied (and, Desmond was being honest, wrinkly newly born ugly) babies who were all staring at him as they make cooing sounds.

That was the day Desmond became a father.

And also the day he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

They were… low maintenance boys, Desmond supposed.

They only shout when they needed to get Desmond’s attention and they weren’t fussy over their drinks. They seemed a bit disgruntled every time Desmond had to change their diapers but they didn’t cry.

They rarely cry.

They only truly cry at times when they were asleep and Desmond believed that they would have nightmares during those times.

His boss was strangely alright with Desmond suddenly appearing with three babies, only looking at him with a frown as he told him that this should be his wake up call to use condoms.

Even his coworkers believed that the one day that Desmond said he was out because of ‘stomachache’ had been code for him freaking out because an ex had left him with three sons as a big fuck you or something.

The most support Desmond got from them though was letting the babies stay in the office.

He had to buy the collapsible playpen though but it was fine.

It gave him an excuse to get more shifts just to pay for his and his sons’ living expenses.

One of his coworkers asked why he didn’t just give them up for adoption. It was clear that he wasn’t ready for it.

And Desmond couldn’t explain it.

He wanted them.

They might have been a surprise but… they were his.

And…

Whenever he felt tired or felt like everything was becoming too much… just feeling them in his arms was enough.

It was enough.

.

.

Miles’ kids were strange boys.

They didn’t make any messes and they were polite… most of the time, anyway.

He knew it was bad to let Miles use his office to keep the kids. Hell, this bar was not a good place for kids and Miles should really just get a babysitter but he didn’t mind.

Miles was homeschooling them… in a way.

It wasn’t his place to give parenting advice anyway so he stayed out of whatever Miles planned for his kids. As long as they don’t hinder business, they could stay.

Altaïr was always on that second hand battered laptop that always made loud fan noises when it was turned on. They mostly kept it on because of it.

At first, he thought Altaïr was just playing in his laptop but… he was studying. Every tab he could see was either educational or… well… Wikipedia pages. Even the YouTube account Desmond shared with his sons were filled with educational videos, mostly something connected to history or engineering or technology.

Desmond liked to say that Altaïr was a genius and had been saving up to buy him a better laptop for the past year now.

Ezio, on the other hand, was more of a people’s person. He liked to talk to Desmond’s coworker before the start of their shift and he was a charming little bugger. Charming enough that many of Desmond’s coworkers started to give them food and juice boxes, saying they made too much or their parents or grandparents gave them too much food and there’s no more space in their fridge…

He was pretty sure that was Ezio’s plan from the very beginning. Build up a network of helpful adults.

Then there was Connor.

He had a different name that Desmond and his brothers use but it was hard to pronounce so he just let everyone else call him Connor.

He followed his father or one of his brothers most of the time, quiet by their side.

Observing.

He was the one who helped out the most, always following Desmond and helping him whenever they were doing their final clean up before closing for the day.

When he was with Ezio, he was always earnest with his questions, taking everything the adults tell him seriously.

When he was with Altaïr, he would lean close and read with him quietly. They would share the earbuds that they had with tape on the right wire because the casing had broken apart and watch videos quietly.

They were… nice kids.

Desmond was a good father dealt with a bad hand.

He supposed…

Buying Desmond a cheap laptop would be cheaper than raising his pay this Christmas.

Would save him more money in the long run, that’s for sure.

[breakfastteatime]

Well, instead of fixing the political landscape of the US and the rest of the world, how about I let everyone take a sneak peek at a fic I'm working on?

This is unedited, untitled and very very very unfinished...

***

Cere stares at Cal.

Cal stares at Cere.

BD, Merrin and Greez stare at both of them.

No one speaks. A faint wind blows across the clearing, carrying the scent of sea salt.

BD twitches. Merrin grabs him before he can do or beep anything. Greez seems to be holding his breath.

A lightsaber ignites, a soft buzz in the dawn light. Cere moves first.

Cal blocks. 

Cere's jabs are short, sharp and accurate. Cal moves fast, single-blade meeting Cere's every time.

BD cheers Cal on. Merrin marvels at Cere's form. She’s so much more refined than Cal, not a single movement wasted. Greez covers his eyes with his hands, then covers those hands with his other hands. He cracks his fingers and peers through.

Cere pushes Cal hard, forcing him to tighten his forms, rely more on real Jedi techniques and less on improvised flashiness. Probably because Cere has his second blade and gave him strict orders not to attempt to pull it from her hand. That, she told him, is a cheap trick and not one he should ever rely on. She is wise. And devious. Merrin admires her greatly.

Cere is holding back; not because Cal cannot match her (although Merrin would absolutely bet against him), but because there is a lesson to be learned here. One perhaps Merrin needs to learn too. Flair is arrogance. A Jedi should not show off. They must set their sights on their target and deal with it as succinctly as possible.

A Nightsister can do the same, but only so when she does indulge, her enemies are all the more stunned by her power and prowess.

Honestly (and Merrin will never share this with anyone), she thinks the Jedi needed to cut loose once in a while.

The fight continues. Cere never falters, her relentless lunges and jabs seeking every gap in Cal's defence. He has the endurance to withstand Cere's prolonged offence, but he doesn't have her experience, and when she does eventually break his guard and land a blow, Cal seems delighted to have held out as long as he did. 

He is a very strange person.

"Can we please have breakfast now?" Greez pleads.

“Of course,” Cere says, looking bright and light on her toes. She pats Cal on the shoulder, returns her borrowed lightsaber, and tells him to put some bacta on the burn, and heads aboard the ship. “We need to finalise the supply list.”

BD’s list of demands is lengthy. Cal nods. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll do first, and I’ll get you the best oil I can find.”

“It’s not all about what you want, BD!” Greez hollers.

Merrin wishes she understood BD. She’d love to understand all that beeping and why it’s making Cal laugh like that.

After breakfast, they head into the nearby town armed with destinations to visit and lists from Cere. Merrin can’t wait. She’s never been anywhere like this, Built into the cliff, the people here have two main trades – fishing and mining, and the mining is largely done at the behest of the Empire. Merrin suspects Cal wants to shut the mines down. She also knows Cere won’t let him. The planet’s entire economy relies on those mines just as much as they need the fishing for food. Personally, Merrin can barely wrap her head around galactic economics, but she knows enough to understand they can’t make things worse for ordinary people. They see it time and time again; planets apparently thriving under the Empire, the people completely unaware of the suffering being endured elsewhere in the galaxy. Merrin cannot understand it. For all the cravenness they see, sometimes she simply has to accept that the Empire is very good at controlling their own narrative and nothing they do will convince people the Empire isn’t the best thing that ever happened.

Sometimes, she truly misses the simplicity of her life on Dathomir.

She also misses the warmth. She’s wearing several layers and it’s still not enough. And then, when they reach the town, there are signs everywhere for an ice rink. Cal forgets his list and the shops Cere told him to go to.

“Merrin, we gotta go!” Cal’s eyes light up.

“What is an ice rink?” she asks.

“You skate! On ice! You’ll love it.”

“Stores and supplies first,” Cere says before Merrin can tell Cal ‘no’. “Potentially limb breaking activities later.”

They split up and go their separate ways with a promise to meet up at the ice rink later. Merrin moves through the streets, staring openly at what she sees. Shops carved into the cliffs, others bolted on and towering into the sky, all of them thrumming with people of all species and genders. Cere specifically chose a busy time of day for them to enter the town so no one would notice them. They’re just another batch of tourists come to marvel at the cliff city of Turrey, mid-rim gateway to the stars (according to all the posters she sees pasted on streetlights and mounted on store walls). She likes this world, likes its energy. The people here are hard-working, proud, honest. She can feel it, is empowered by it. Not that she’ll be wielding her magick for all to see while they’re here. Not unless the Empire decides to do something exceedingly heinous which, given that she has yet to come across a single stormtrooper, seems unlikely.

Once she’s gathered up the supplies on her list (various foodstuffs, some ingredients that will suffice for her potion craft, a local tea she thinks Cere might like), Merrin heads to the local café where they’d all agreed to meet. It’s built into a cave, huge glowing orbs hanging from the ceiling, soft bass music playing under the current of conversation and busy barista activity. Cere is there already, sipping caf and watching the world go by. Merrin orders herself a very elaborate juice, complete with ice, froth and a little umbrella, and joins her at the table.

“What do you think?” Cere says. “How does this world rank with all the others you’ve been to so far?”

Sipping her juice, wincing at the sharp sweetness, Merrin lakeers for a moment. Cliff city, chilly weather, sunny though… “If we can finish what we need to do without encountering a single stormtrooper, it will rank highly.”

Greez, Cal and BD join them a short while later, both laden down with supplies and caf. BD is the first to launch into a lengthy explanation about… something. Merrin still does not understand him. Cal translates.

“The people here kept telling me to ‘mind my droid’ as they tend to be unreliable and prone to malfunctions on this world,” he says. BD blurts out something else. “I know, buddy, you’re fine. No malfunctions detected.”

“Malfunction how?” Cere asks.

“Unreliable memories, a tendency to lie, that kind of thing,” Cal says. “It’s probably why most of the droids we came across in the stores we went in didn’t have vocalisers.”

“Eh, wouldn’t be the first world we’ve been on that doesn’t like or trust droids,” Greez says. “Anyway, enough about that. What’s next on the agenda, and please tell me it’s chilling out and having a good day.”

Cal immediately talks about the ice rink, raving about how it’s actually a large lake on top of the cliff outside the town hall and the river its connected to runs all the way through the mountain and down to the sea. He’s so excited, Merrin feels like she’s talking to someone much younger. She wonders for a moment if this was what he was like as a child, happy and excitable. If he is, no wonder he and BD get on so well.

“…heard anything I said, Merrin?”

She blinks, stirring her drink with the straw. “We will go to this ice lake rink you speak of. I would like to see you skate.”

BD giggles and tells Cal something that makes Cal roll his eyes and jab BD’s chassis. “I’d like to see you do any better!”

They go back and forth, teasing each other, although Merrin can only pick up one side of the conversation.

“We’ll drop everything off on the ship, then come back to watch Cal go flailing across the ice,” Greez says.

“Merrin too unless she’s too scared,” Cal says, sing-song, teasing. BD provides backing vocals. “We can race, see who can get from one side of the rink to the other the fastest.”

Merrin is never one to turn down a challenge.

When they head up to the top of the cliff later, Merrin is amazed at the sights. The town hall is as immense and sturdy as the ground it looks as though it has grown out of. Beyond, Merrin can see the entrances to the mines, the hovertrain lines busy with cargo and passenger vehicles.

“Don’t get any ideas about taking a ride on one of those,” Greez tells Cal. “One train rescue is enough for an entire lifetime.”

“You didn’t exactly rescue me from the train,” Cal says.

“Almost,” Greez says. “We almost rescued you from that train.”

“Wish you had.” Cal’s hand rubs his chest. “I wouldn’t have broken so many bones.”

“Wait, you broke bones?”

The ice rink stands at the heart of the town square, a space easily as large as the swamps of Dathomir. Cal pays for tickets and skate rental. He only pays for himself and Merrin, and he leads her into a small, benched area where people are changing in and out of skates.

“Here you go!” Cal hands her the skates.

Dubious, Merrin stares at the boots in her hand, boots with thin blades bolted to the soles. She stares at Cal, who has already switched his regular boots for these skates. "You have ice-skated before?" she asks.

"Nope! Not like this. I’m not sure I can count sliding down frozen rivers on Zeffo as skating."

BD beeps. Cal scoffs. "No, you haven't! It doesn't count if you're not the one actually touching the ice."

In response, BD hops down and onto the ice. Merrin watches him slip and slide in the ice rink, barely avoiding the skaters. People dressed in warm clothes zip by, some with skill and confidence, others poised like they're terrified they might fall through into the water below.

"I'll have some hot drinks waiting for you when you're finished," Greez says.

"You do not have so far to fall," Merrin says. "Would it not be better for you to go skating?"

He laughs so hard he nearly crashed into the people walking by. "No, no way. This is a young person's sport."

An elderly couple whizz by. Merrin raises an eyebrow.

"They're Human! Totally different." Greez waves her away. "Go on, go! Have fun!"

Merrin looks to Cere.

“Not a chance,” Cere says. “I’ve got the med kit on standby.”

Accepting she has lost this argument, Merrin removes her boots and tugs on the skates, lacing them as tight as she can stand. Cal waits for her on the lake edge, BD back in his usual place. Apparently, he also decided against skating.

“Ready?” Cal asks her, hand held out to her.

She takes it. “If I go down, you are coming with me.”

He laughs and slides onto the ice, tugging her along with him. She keeps her balance, as does he, and she watches the more confident skaters, how they keep their heads held up and move with confidence. She can do that. How hard can it even be?

She releases Cal’s hand and pushes off, movement steady and confident. Her speed picks up, the cold air whistling by. She moves past slower skaters, eyes locked on the path ahead. She can do it. She’s doing it!

A small child whizzes in front of her, oblivious to the oncoming danger. Merrin’s instinct is to teleport out of the way. She resists, instead accepting the inevitable crash. The child, however, is faster than expected, and launches into a twirling leap, trailing glee and pride in her wake. Merrin is impressed, and she skates on.

“You gonna try that?”

Cal’s sudden presence behind her nearly sends Merrin failing to the ice. She saves her balance just in time. Cal cackles. She turns (it is not graceful) and gives him a hefty shove. He slides backward, with more grace than she mustered.

It’s times like she is reminded why she did not like him when she first set eyes on him on Dathomir.

“Go,” she tells him. “Show off. I will practice here and beat you at our race.”

“Didja hear that, BD? Merrin’s still up for the race!”

BD does his own twirl across Cal’s shoulders.

“Let us know when you’re ready!” Cal calls as he glides away.

He even does a little spin.

“The child’s was better.”

He sticks out his tongue as he skates away with the confidence of a pro.

By the time Merrin feels ready to race Cal, the ice rink has quietened down. She meets him on the far end. “I will race you,” she says. “No powers.”

He nods. “No powers.”

“BD? No help from you either.”

Whatever BD says in response causes Cal to laugh. She ignores them both. “On three.”

“One – ”

Merrin crouches, ready for launch. “Two…”

“Three!”

Cal takes off, BD squealing. Merrin digs deep and pushes hard, ignoring the voice in her head reminding her she doesn’t know how to stop. Cal is far ahead, weaving around people with obnoxious ease.

If only she could teleport. Then he’d lose. But she already knows Cere and Greez (especially Greez) would prefer if they kept their heads down unless they really needed to –

The lake quakes. The mood changes from joy to confusion. Merrin slows without stopping. People slow to a stop, looking at each other.

From somewhere off to the side of the ice rink, a voice shouts. “Get off the ice!”

Another quake, worse this time. Several people are thrown off their feet.

The ice cracks with strange twangs and pops Merrin has never heard before.

Cries go out, people no longer skating smoothly and instead flailing, trying to keep from falling off the chunks of ice and into the water.

Merrin falls to her knees, her balance lost. A man ahead of her skids to a stop, turns back and holds out his hand. “Let me help,” he says.

Thanking him, Merrin accepts his help. “What’s happening?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. We need to get off the lake.”

They move, hopping from ice floe to ice floe. Merrin catches sight of Cal and BD, Cal on his knees and reaching into the water. Merrin doesn’t have time to see what he’s doing, not when she and the man have to jump over a chunk of ice that has rolled onto its side. Turning to look again, she sees Cal dive into the water. Pulling her hand free from the man’s, she tells him to keep going.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I have to help my friend,” Merrin says. “He’s in the water!”

A look of unfathomable terror goes across the man’s face. “It’s too late.”

He flees without another word.

Confused now, Merrin no longer holds back. She teleports to where she last saw Cal, a terrible chill emanating from the water.

A chill and something else.

Something worse.

A presence.

Large.

Angry.

Cal resurfaces, BD on his back and a child in his arms. It’s the same child who’d leapt and twirled across the ice wish such ease earlier, only now they are limp and unconscious. Cal looks, spots Merrin, and thrusts the child at her. “Hurry,” he says, eyes narrowed with a particular focus Merrin recognises so well now. “There’s something in the water.”

Merrin grabs the child. She isn’t moving. She might not be breathing. Knowing Cal and BD can take care of themselves, Merrin teleports herself and the girl off the lake and onto dry land. People stare in shock.

“Help me!” Merrin shouts at them. “The girl needs you!”

A cry goes out and a woman rushes forward. Merrin senses the bond between woman and girl. Mother and daughter. “She’s not breathing!” the mother cries.

Merrin leans over, begins compressions. She senses Cere and Greez approach, but she doesn’t look up, not until the child coughs and stirs. Her mother wails with relief, scooping the child up.

“Thank you,” she says to Merrin. “Thank you so much.”

She dashes off, heading for local emergency workers racing their way. Merrin doesn’t see any stormtroopers. She sees Greez, puffed up, proud, and carrying Merrin’s boots. The sight almost makes her laugh. He hands them over. “You’re gonna need ‘em. Hurry.”

Grabbing them, Merrin wastes no time changing into them. Cere has already moved beyond them, blaster in her hand, headed to the edge of the lake. The water churns, waves slapping the banks.

Neither Cal nor BD are anywhere in sight. Merrin can’t see anyone else in the water too. The rink has nearly emptied out, only a few stragglers hanging around to stand and stare. Something else rings in her mind. That energy she’d felt earlier. The world’s industrious energy. It’s gone, replaced by something new. Something strange.

Whatever it is, she doesn’t have time to dwell. The water’s currents change, all the water pulled into the centre of the lake.

“It’s coming,” Cere says. She looks to Merrin, devoid of emotion. “Be ready.”

“Greez, get these people out of here,” Merrin says.

While Greez does as he’s told, pushing back a crowd of onlookers, Merrin joins Cere. Cere’s hand tightens around her blaster, finger on the trigger as water explodes into the sky. Merrin watches, her mouth dropping open, as three things emerge from the spray.

Cal.

BD.

And a creature out of a nightmare.

Grey and black, covered in thick scales, it resembles a snake, albeit one double the size of the Mantis with teeth as long as the ship is tall. Unlike a snake, it possesses four legs, each one bearing claws that could eviscerate any organic matter with a single swipe. It could probably grab the Mantis and eat it in one bite, and that thought clangs around Merrin’s mind when she watches a blue blade ignite. Cal flips around and lands on the monster’s back, scoring a lengthy wound in its scaly hide. The creature roars, its pain screaming through the Force.

Merrin can feel it, an untamed mind pushing at her own, pressing a sense of calm, of stillness, even as it shakes Cal off. He plummets again, BD’s boosters flaring as he tries to catch up. They’re going to hit the water, and the creature is already turning to go after them.

Merrin wonders if she should be more worried about that, but it all seems a bit far away now. She should just stand here. Stand here and enjoy the sights. She likes this world. It’s so pretty, and the sea is so vast, the mines so deep. What a lovely place this must be to live in.

Cere’s hands rise. She grabs Cal and BD with the Force, slowing their fall, but not enough. They both hit the water, because Cere’s pushing back against the creature, stopping it from diving into the lake.

“Get Cal and BD!” Cere shouts at Merrin, voice straining. “Hurry!”

“If you insist,” Merrin says, although she’s really not sure it’s necessary. She teleports from ice floe to ice floe, keeping her balance, reaching the spot where Cal and BD sank. BD appears first, shaking his head. Cal appears a moment later, looking dazed and frozen.

“We are going,” Merrin announces, grabbing both and teleporting back across the lake. She doesn’t hear either complain about their sudden movement. She doesn’t really hear much of anything except a song in her head that tells her peace, Merrin, be at peace. She reaches another patch of ice, right beside dry land where Cere’s shouting…

Merrin thinks she’s shouting. She can’t hear the words.

Peace, Merrin. Peace.

Something tugs on her arm. She pushes it off. Overhead, the creature resumes its fall, its mouth open wide, teeth splayed, its throat a blackhole.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

She closes her eyes.

Hands, cold and wet, ram against her. She hits the ground hard, a heavy weight falling on top of her. Water smacks into her, so cold she gasps with the shock of it.

The peace shatters.

The quiet too.

Footsteps. Fast.

Hands, grabbing.

“Merrin? Merrin!”

She blinks, looks up, sees the worry in Cere’s gaze. Why? What’s happening? Merrin looks around, finds herself on the ground beside the lake.

“What happened?” she asks.

Cere’s expression tells Merrin that was not the right thing to say. Heart sinking, worry mounting, Merrin tries to get up.

The heavy weight pins her down.

Cere leaves her line of sight. BD’s nearby – Merrin can hear him. He sounds worried. Why? What’s happening? Merrin’s head goes for a loop, pain seeping in. The weight moves, and she’s free to sit up. She does so, bracing herself as the vertigo keeps everything spinning. She breathes through the worst of it, and sees Cere leaning over Cal, fingers checking for a pulse, calling his name.

More footsteps approach, and this time it’s Greez with some locals dressed like medics.

Merrin decides she’s too tired to figure anything out. There’s an alarm sounding out in her head, but whatever’s causing it is lost behind the encroaching darkness. She falls back, only for four arms to catch her.

The last thing she sees is Greez leaning over her.

The last thing she hears is him telling her to stay with him, stay with –

[nerdieforpedro]

She made me Feel

Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.8k (double the length of the original - because Din thinks a lot)

Summary: The Mandalorian constantly weighs different scenarios concerning the safety of his child and himself. Din Djarin's mind is now riddled with possible ways to interact with you. Can he figure it out?

Warnings: Din is a pile of nervous beskar, Din is also clueless, Peli is a menace to Din, awkward conversations, Din being so soft, mention of blood and injuries, first aid, HANDS, basically fluff (the fluff is back a little?)

Notes: The follow up to He Told Me His Name. Din might be a tad anxious. It's a companion piece to my other fic. I might do one where it shows where they are now. I thought Din's perspective would be good to see. The dividers are by the talented @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin - The Mandalorian Masterlist/ Our Journey Across the Star Ocean Series

I wasn’t aware Peli had anyone human working with her, only those damn droids. I first saw her repairing one of them, her hands working skillfully with the wires. I wondered why she was here. Her hands could be doing much more delicate work. She finished with the droid and sent it on it’s way. I asked Peli about her and apparently she normally works with droids and I did state that I only wanted Peli and her approved droids on my ship when I first started getting repairs here.

I couldn’t say then that I didn’t mind if she joined Peli in her work on the Razor Crest. I already can’t deal with Peli’s teasing today as she asks about my interest in her assistant. Grogu has already tested my patience with his tantrums about frogs. I told the annoying woman that my curiosity extended to her because she seems much more sane than you and your army of half-functioning droids. Peli did not take that well. She hit me with one of her wrenches. That will bruise.

When the ship needs maintenance, I keep an eye out for her now and she is always repairing some droid or another. She manages her tools as well, cleaning them, polishing them. Despite the grease and grime, her hands look soft and graceful like the rest of her. I wonder if I should offer to assist her with one of the droid’s repairs? 

Dank ferrnik, Peli noticed me watching her arrange her tools. She’s begun with the comments again… I endured only because Peli agreed to have her work on the Razor Crest now. I don’t give two wookies what Peli says, I have never slobbered like a blerg over anyone. I just…respect that she’s an expert. Similar to me with weapons of my clan. 

This time I managed to say hello. Maker it’s nerve wracking. She may be equally as nervous. She only said hello back and looked at her tools. This is a complete mess. I hunt bounties for a living, talking to a woman is not impossible. Just difficult, small talk is painful. Peli has a smug look on her face. If she wasn’t so well acquainted with my ship and cheap I’d…well I’d threaten to go else where. She is here. I would rather not.

Now we exchange greetings with some pleasantries. About business and droids…the only damn thing those buckets have ever been good for. I was able to say a few sentences to her. She replied with her own. I am unexpectedly happy about this. I want to talk to her longer but not a clue what to talk about. 

Maker, why am I even trying so hard? My only focus should be on my Creed and my foundling. My eyes are always drawn to her, watching her. I thought at first it was similar to one of my bounties. Watching and waiting. I know patience and timing with my jobs as they’re for credits and when I can find it, beskar for our covert but I do not want to wait for her to come over to the Razor Crest. I want to go to her but I realize that a figure clad in armor and weapons head to toe is rather…intimidating. I think I’ll carry Grogu when I go over, that should make me seem less fearsome.

Despite napping, my foundling has proven most useful. We spoke at length about him. For almost an hour, I believe. I find myself less nervous and I believe she is as well. Peli spoke to me outside of the Razor Crest away from my dear mechanic. She’s proposing that I bring her with me. One of the few good ideas Peli has had since I started having this woman repair my ship. 

I waited until my next trip to ask her. I needed to find the right words. I thought I had them but the eluded me after I greeted her and asked how she was. She greeted me with the same smile that she’s given me that last few times I have been here. Maker I hope she’s open to the idea. Seeing her smile daily would be…should…should I be courting her? I feel this strongly about her. I may have missed a few steps in this process. No matter.

“Can I ask you something?” Din is still nervous, but he is slightly less so in the familiar space of the Razor Crest. It’s cold metal echoes his own beskar. The only source of warmth, the woman who he has an important question for. A want, he told himself but was quickly becoming a need. She nods, setting her tools down and wiping her hands on the worn apron she often wears to protect her clothes. He had her full attention. As much as he was worried to have it, he relished in it for a moment before cleaning his throat.

“Sure Mando. What is it?” Thankfully she couldn’t see his face grimace at the nickname. That was for people he wanted to keep at arm’s length, not those he wanted close. It wasn’t something he’d put much thought into as he’d been a Mandalorian since they’d taken him in and been taught their ways. He was certain that only his brothers and sisters in the coven would know his name. His son Grogu had opened his heart to truly caring for another person again. Din had wondered if he was longing for the same type of relationship with her as he saw in his coven between riduurs. Maybe down the line. I don’t even know if I want that now. I just know I’d like her to be with us on our journey wherever we go.

“Would you like to come with Grogu and I? It would be better if we had a capable mechanic with us.” Din stood quietly and waited for her answer. He held his breath and exhaled when she said she would think on it.

“Are you leaving again soon?” She asked him, the delicate hands he watched so often kept folding a corner of her work apron back and forth. He understands the feeling, it’s the same as when he inventories and cleans his weapons and especially his beskar. It’s soothing, he would have found this to be pleasant if it wasn’t his question that had made her need it. A similarity between them, other than a shared soft spot for a certain green child and a large pre-empire craft that they chatted about. “I want to give you an answer but I also want to think about it properly.”

Din nodded and let her be. “I don’t leave again for a few days. Take the time you need.” She didn’t outright say no so there was a chance. As it turned out, she later said yes the day after next. One step forward, she was joining him and Grogu on the Razor Crest. He remained quiet most of the time with her, just happy that she was here with them traveling. 

The small incidental brushes began when they would work in tandem to make repairs to the Crest. The shoulder bumps, her hip bumping his thigh when she would turn slightly to reach for a tool or to maneuver to manipulate wires. He noticed she would move away from him and he was worried that he was crowding her but she mentioned something much worse, “Sorry Mando, I take up a bit of space. I think-“

“No mesh’la you don’t. We just need to figure out a better method to complete the repairs. Please, you are…” I paused. What did I want to tell her? How can I say it? Maker I don’t even know… “You are fine as is. You take up as much space as you like.” Dank Ferrnik….what does that even mean? She turned away from me and I felt like an idiot. This would be the time I don’t bump my helmet on something while fixing this ship.

“Thanks Mando. No one’s ever quite put it like that.” He heard you laugh and his fears were quelled. Thank the Maker you were so understanding. But he worried about what you may have said about yourself. That was when he decided. I don’t think I should hope that we touch anymore. I think I can make it more purposeful. So she’ll know that I find her beautiful and that’s part of courting right? Maybe I should have asked different questions of The Armorer and Paz when I was back on Navarro. No only The Armorer, Paz pisses me off too much and I will not owe him any more than I already do.

At the market, I made sure to touch between her shoulder blades on her back to guide her as Grogu’s pram floated next to us. She didn’t flinch, and I didn’t want to touch lower back because that would be inappropriate. I do wonder…sometimes. But only wonder. 

I began picking up bounties and would need her and Grogu to stay on the Crest to be safe. That doesn’t seem fair, she said she wanted to see the galaxy. I can teach her some self-defense and how to shoot a blaster so I’ll feel slightly better about leaving them alone. Her hands are small in mine, still so gentile, except with a wrench. She was nervous but got the hang of it fairly quickly. We keep practicing until her aim improves. I encourage her every time we make a stop to shoot and she does. I’m trying to make my voice sound softer I suppose, I’m not really sure except outside of Grogu how that sounds. She responds to it and smiles more often, we’ve grown closer and I’m thankful that she’s making progress but it’s slowed some so I can continue to mentor her. 

Maker I have ulterior motives when I do. I can’t think of another good reason to touch her. 

I couldn’t help it. She was holding Grogu and trying to explain the different bolts to him. I bet he was trying to play with her tools while she was sorting them. I placed my hand on her shoulder. It felt like it should be there. She looked up at me and I nodded. I hope she took that to mean that I’m fine with her holding my son. I walked away because I didn't know what to say. She didn’t say anything either. 

I’m lying to myself. I’ve long accepted her holding my son. The Crest wouldn’t be the same without her here. Waiting for me, playing with Grogu, walking through the market, sitting in a comfortable silence in the cockpit. I even look forward to checking my weapon inventory when she’s checking her tools and at the same time. I didn’t think occupying the same space as someone would be so rewarding, well in a different way than my son. Should I tell her any of this?

No. It’s too much and I’m not even sure what this is.

Now wherever we go, I ensure I’m guiding her by her arm, back, or hand. I know I wouldn’t really lose her, she’s clever and would find Grogu and I quickly. The fear is there, I don’t want her to leave, she might want to one day. This life isn’t made for the masses. She’s voiced no complaints. What would I even say if I had to convince her to stay? 

The hunt didn’t take long and this bail jumper is annoying. The only reason I haven’t said I’m putting him on carbonite is that he finally shut up. 

We’re back to the Crest and there’s blood. Too much blood. I put him on carbonite as I spot her and Grogu. He’s a few feet from her, appears to be unarmed. I don’t detect any other life forms on the Crest. The child's scream feels like it will pierce my helmet, I can’t blame him. I too want to scream at the sight. She’s face down and her back is entirely wet with crimson. I ripped her shirt and bra to visualize the wound. It’s large, nearly the entire width of her back, part of her shirt has stuck to the wound. I’ll need to rip more to see, but then her back will be fully exposed and she’s vulnerable as is.

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” This is so much different when it’s someone you care for. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” It feels silly but I need to ask, I need to know it’s okay. I need to let her choose, I already ripped her shirt without asking.

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.” She’s worried about my son at this point?! Maker I…I need to focus for her sake. It’s been months since I took off my gloves near another person. I dabbed her back with gauze to remove the residue from what looks to be some local fauna that are quite violent. Their secretions inhibit clotting to weaken their targets and so they can gorge themselves on their blood. Next, I applied pressure to try and get the bleeding to stop enough so the bacta spray will work and won’t wash away in her blood. It appears after a few minutes the bacta spray is holding and the bleeding is slowing further so I apply pressure dressings and make them tight. It may make her a bit sore but the bleeding should stop with this. 

I need to keep watch over her. I placed her in her bunk and wrapped her up tightly. I need her to rest and recover. I want her to wake up and we have more moments, more time. I don’t want her to leave but after this…I can’t blame her. 

She woke up! “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” She shushed me before she sat up. Pulling the blanket back around her should keep her cool. Before I fell asleep beside her, I charted our course back to turn this bail jumper in. I apologized to her. She recalled her training and how she kept Grogu safe. Part of me is proud but she still was hurt badly, I could have lost her. “Mesh'la you were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” Words I won’t want to say but do anyway. I want to beg her to stay but it wouldn’t be right. She’s not a warrior like I am. She wanted to see more than the Peli’s garage. I can’t give her that without danger. 

She holds my bare hand and tells me, “I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” This isn’t the threat she may think it is. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” First my son and now… a partner. Someone who wants to be by my side. 

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” My thumb stroked her palm and she chuckled. I wonder if I can make her laugh more maybe daily. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

I told this to her three months ago. Sometimes in the cockpit when the three of us are sitting, I remove my glove and reach across where her warm hand awaits mine as I speak her name. I’m happy to hear my name from her lips when we’re alone. A glove is what I can give her now. When she smiles softly at me I want to give her more, so much more of myself but I’m not sure how. Learning more of her and loving her as the shape of our relationship changes.

I wonder where else she may allow my hand to go. How else she may say my name as we travel and see the galaxy. Will I change the way I say hers? I wonder if I can tell her that she's both my mesh'la and my cyar’ka. Is it still too soon? Maybe as we continue to explore the intimacy we now share, then I can tell her.

Our journey together continues. This is The Way.

Part One. Part Three

Space Buddies 🚀: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @pedroshotwifey @thefrogdalorian @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[writingattemptsxx]

A Small Gift

To get the brothers to let you go to the human world to do some exchange program work, you promised them gifts.

—

This took way too long to write. I'm just glad it's done. I thought some fluff would be nice.

—

A month-long visit to the human world took you away from the brothers. At first, they didn’t like the idea. Some used the excuse of not wanting you to be somewhere without supervision. Some were honest that they didn’t want to be away from you. Luckily with assurance that you would be fine, as well as a bribe of gifts on your return, they relented. You went out and gathered a gift for each brother, hoping they’d love it. You even bought a few gift bags. You did hope they liked it, but you more hoped they’d be less trouble on future trips.

Lucifer - A snow globe - Lucifer’s gift was the first one you found. You went into a gift shop, saw it, and it screamed ‘Lucifer’. Why? Who knows!

Mammon - A key chain - Mammon is usually one of, if not the first to complain about not being with you. Now he can have this with him at all times. Also, it's shiny.

Leviathan - A pack of pencils - You went into a stationary store realizing you were missing something, and they just happened to have a pack of pencils themed around an anime he likes, so you grabbed those too.

Satan - A bookmark - In the stationary store where you found Levi’s gift, there was another thing that caught your eye. There was a small bookmark with cat faces all over it and a fold-out bit to save your specific line.

Asmo - A makeup brush set - Another gift you were actively searching for, and it was pure pink, his favorite color. What’s not to love? It may not be those expensive ones he always buys, but it definitely wasn't cheap.

Beelzebub - A water bottle - Your first thought for him was food, obviously, but you didn't want something the Avatar of Gluttony would scarf down in two seconds. Plus with a water bottle, he can bring it to the gym and his practices.

Belphegor - A blanket - A perfect gift for Belphie. Knowing him, he'd keep it in good condition for centuries. It may only be a blanket, and on the cheaper side at that, but it was comfy.

While you were on your trip you hoped to relax at home, but you forgot something. Something you remembered the second the door opened. There was no relaxing in the House of Lamentation. Ever.

It was very obvious that they were all ecstatic to see you again, but you could tell at least a part of each of them wanted to know their gifts. What did you get them? Where were they? When do they get them? They were way too easy to read.

You told everyone to buzz off while you at least got unpacked. You needed to relax, not be mobbed. You'd give them their gift later, once you settled back in. As you watched each go on and do their own thing, you couldn't help but hope they liked their gift.

—

Lucifer was doing his typical work. Sitting at his desk behind mountains of paper wasn't new, but it still was not the best experience. He saw the door slowly open and started to wonder which brother wanted to get in the way of his work, but instead, you came through the door. You tried your best to be as quiet as possible when coming in and closing the door, which Lucifer greatly appreciated.

Once the door clicked you turned to him beaming. “Luci, I got this for you!” You held up a decently sized blue gift bag, careful to not shake.

“Your gift for me? I was wondering when I'd finally receive it. I hope it’s something I like, you should know me well enough by now.” A smirk appeared as his words poked at you.

Your face changed into a pout and you stuck your tongue out at Lucifer. A bold move, no matter how close you became. You dramatically sighed and put the back of your hand to your forehead, something you no doubt learned from Asmodeus. “I got you this out of the kindness of my heart. You can't be picky about this.” You walked forward and gently placed the bag on his desk.

“We both know it was a bribe so my brothers would let you out of the house.” He, himself, argued against you leaving but now didn't seem like the time to bring that up. “Also teasing you is too fun to stop.”

Lucifer pulled the bag closer and carefully removed some crumpled paper you stuffed in the bag. He reached in and pulled out… “A snow globe?” It seemed like an odd choice gift for him. Granted, it was very pretty. It was a single, yet very detailed tree sitting in the middle of a white plain with the snow of the snow globe also inside. The base was a vibrant admiral blue.

He looked up to you for answers, but you only shrugged in response. “It’s just something I saw that reminded me of you. Don't ask me why.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment only to change into quiet giggles. “Thank you. I love it.”

—

Mammon was pacing his room. You just came home after so long and he had to leave you alone for even longer. He is happy you get to relax, even in this house, but he just wants to hug you before leaving you be again.

Suddenly he heard the door open and whipped his head around to see you. Not only that, you were holding a very small yellow gift bag. Both his eyes and voice lit up seeing you. “Human!” He cleared his throat. “What took you so long?”

“I had to get your gift ready. That is, unless you don't want it.” You held up the bag and gave it a small shake all the while showing a teasing smirk.

The next thing you knew the bag was missing from your hands and found in Mammon’s. “Nah, Nah. The Great Mammon always deserves gifts.” He dug through the crumpled paper and pulled out a small keychain. It was very small, just a shiny gold keychain with a dangling star. He couldn't tell why, but he felt so light seeing it. He just stared at it for what felt like forever.

Suddenly your voice cut through his thoughts. “So… you like it?”

“This gift is definitely worthy of The Great Mammon.”

—

Levi was shockingly out of his room. He was going to go on an anime binge in a bit, so now he was stocking up on snacks. Chips, snack bars, bag popcorn, and anything he could get his hands on that wouldn’t spoil.

“There you are! I thought you’d be in your room as always.” Your voice was quiet but came very suddenly, and it took everything in him to not jump.

He turned around to see you holding up a pretty small orange gift bag as you looked around. You dropped the bag in his hands. Levi stared at it for a few seconds before looking back up at you. “A gift? Also, what's with the house inspections?” He pointed in the directions you were looking between.

“Yes, I said I'd get you all gifts, didn't I? And because I’m not willing to hear the wining of any brother upset they didn't get theirs first.”

Levi shrugged. He wouldn't put it past any of his brothers to take not getting a gift first as something to get upset over. He wouldn't even put it past himself to do that. “Yeah, they totally would. But the gift was a very obvious bribe. I didn't expect you to mean it. I thought you'd at least forget or something, or at least not give me something.”

“Of course, I'd get you something. Now come on, open it.” You were all but bouncing on your toes while staring at him and the bag. He dug through the crumpled paper in the bag to pull out a pack of pencils. Seemed like an odd choice for him, maybe something closer to something for Satan or Lucifer. It was only until he noticed the pencils were patterned with characters from an anime he loved.

His eyes lit up and just barely held in an excited squee. Any merch is welcome merch. Levi shot up and pulled you into a hug. “Thank you!”

—

Satan was reading in the living room. He was reading a book he’d read many times before. He intended to read the book he bought a few days ago, but after starting it he realized his mind kept drifting to you. He was curious how you were, and he wanted to check up on you, but he knew you needed some time to relax before interacting with him or his brothers again.

He started to hear steps that got louder and louder. Eventually, you appeared as the source looking around corners before you turned them. Satan also noticed an extremely small green gift bag in your hand. You held it to your chest as you quickly walked towards him.

“What with the secrecy?” Satan put down his book to give you an amused stare.

You dropped the gift bag on his lap. “Your brothers. That's what. If any of them, even one, learned that I gave one a present before another, I'd never heard the end of it.”

That was completely true for almost everyone in this house. He just let out a sigh and decided to move on. Carefully rifling through the crumpled paper he pulled out a long bookmark. The bookmark was a dark fern-green and littered with cat faces of all colors. There was also a long plastic connection, and on the packaging, it explained that it was meant to save your specific line.

It was just adorable and all the cats making different smiles made his heart melt. Satan held it to his heart and gave you a big smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

—

Asmo was looking his face over in the mirror. He wanted to go out today. But for that, he needed the perfect look that would be perfect in completing his looks. But for that, he needed inspiration. Truth be told, he could go out with no makeup at all, he was already gorgeous, but putting it on was fun.

While he was mulling over his choices, he heard his door slam closed. He turned around, immediately turning into his demon form, ready for a fight.

Instead of seeing an intruder or even one of his brothers, he saw you muttering to yourself about how you didn't mean to be that loud, and that you even scared yourself. He clutched his chest, transformed back, and slumped back down onto his vanity chair.

“Darling, you gave me a heart attack. I thought you were an intruder or similar. My skin will not like this stress.”

You bolted around at his words, as if shocked to see him in his own room. “Sorry! Sorry. I just wanted to close it fast, not slam it. On another note, I got you this.” You held up a small pink gift bag, giving Asmo a big smile.

The gift! He didn't forget about it, how could he forget about a gift for him, but he did push it to the back of his mind to focus on other things. He rushed right up to you, enveloping you in a tight hug. He let go and took you over to his vanity. He gently took the present from your hands. He removed the crumpled paper, dropping it into the trashcan.

At the bottom of the bag was a small set of a few pastel pink makeup brushes and a blender. It was small, but it seemed of good quality. The thought put into the gift melted his heart. Gently setting the brush set down, Asmo pulled you into another tight hug. “Thank you! Also, you just gave me the perfect inspiration for a new makeup look!”

—

Beelzebub was working out in his room. All he had were a few handheld weights. He wanted to go to the gym, but he couldn't find any will to actually go. He wanted more to make sure you settled back in as well as possible.

He was mid-routine when you quickly opened his door, stepped through, and closed it, careful not to slam.

“Hey Beel, got you something.” You quickly walked over to him and placed a pretty big red gift bag in his hands. Inside it was stuffed full of crumpled paper. He dug around for only a second before his hand touched hard plastic and he pulled it up. It was a giant red gallon water bottle. The plastic was translucent, there were measurements on the side, and the side was even carved out to make a handle.

“I thought you could bring it to the gym or practi-” Before you could finish, Beel pulled you into a massive bear hug that lifted you off the ground.

“Thank you! I love it!” He gave you one of the biggest smiles he could.

—

Belphie was sleeping as usual. He was in the observatory. All the stars were calming and the room was usually silent and dark. It was his perfect nap spot. Well, it was until about a minute ago when someone started shaking him awake. “Belphie. Belphie. Wake up I got something for you.”

He let out a groan and grabbed the hand you decided to disturb him with. “Can’t it wait? Just put it down next to me or something. I'll pick it up when I get up.” Belphie rolled onto his back and fell back asleep within seconds, but he only slept just as quickly as a big gift bag was roughly placed on his stomach.

“Rude.” He opened his eyes to see a really big purple gift bag and pulled it down so the top faced him instead of getting up. He slowly dug out all of the crumpled paper, dropping it on the floor to deal with later.

After a few seconds, he pulled out a folded blanket. It was a cow pattern, similar to his favorite pillow, and it was super fluffy and soft. Just touching it made him sleepy.

“Like it?” Belphie just looked at you for a few seconds, contemplating if he should pull you into his nap. Eventually, he decided and tugged you down next to him, covering you both with his new blanket, and drifted back to sleep in another few seconds.

—

Lucifer’s snow globe was kept either on his desk or on a shelf. He found comfort in even just staring at it, but every now and then he shook it to see the snowfall.

Mammon’s keychain was a permanent fixture on his phone. He took it everywhere and showed it off at any chance he could.

Levi kept his pencils in package with his other merch, not wanting to ruin them, but they were always near the front of any display he made.

Satan used his bookmark for any book he could. He adored it and kept it as pristine as possible.

Asmo started using his new brushes almost instantly. Even if they were not the fancy brands he typically uses, they worked just as well. The fact it was from you also helped inspire some looks.

Beel took his water bottle practically wherever he went. When anyone pointed it out or asked questions, he'd happily gush about his new gift.

Belphie’s new blanket became his favorite one. Even just touching the fuzziness made him cozy and tired. He did everything in his power to keep as soft as the day he got it.

[alairroux]

So I did some more. Again. I don't know how but sure did. Also wanted to share that this ff doesn't have a name for now and the doc I write in is just called "LFG ff". Thank you for your attention.

Chapter II

"Fate likes cruel jokes"

“What are you doing, bub?”

She almost fell, hearing a familiar voice. her grip on the bars loosening a little. She had to swat the air a few times and test her leg strength to get back into a sitting position. Alice glared at Logan, who was just standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Of course he was close enough to catch her, in case she wouldn’t manage to save herself in time. 

“Are you fucking crazy? I could’ve fallen!”

“Language, young lady. And I’d catch you in time if you didn’t do that in time.” 

She rolled her eyes, getting off of the railing and now standing on the ground, still eyeing Logan with feigned anger. She couldn’t really stay mad at him for too long in that case. Somehow, he had a better grasp of her struggles than for example Wade. Why? Hard to tell. Logan wasn’t exactly the type of person to just open up and talk about his feelings or even just thoughts. 

“ So? Care to answer my question or you’ll continue on with the silent treatment?” 

He asked, raising his eyebrow. He had his guesses about what was happening yet again. 

“ Thinking. I was just thinking. And you interrupted me. Which is rude and very annoying. You should apologize and move on. How did you even know I was there? Who told you? Wade?”

Yeah, that was definitely it. Judging by how much she was speaking, the speed of her speech and amount of unnecessary words, everything fit right in place. 

“ Yes, Wade told me that you left the flat, high out of your mind, not telling anyone where you’re going. And I know you always come here when this”  he lightly tapped her forehead “ happens.” 

She only grumbled in reply, taking a half step back. Of course she didn’t want to talk about it. It was like a never healing wound. Bothering her in every possible way, hurting and bleeding from time to time, for years now. A curse. That much she could agree on. Anyone who was a telepath, ever, was cursed with a gift that takes more than it can actually give. Alice turned her eyes away, looking at the very few cars that passed the bridge. It must’ve been getting late then. Only now she felt the cold wind sink deep into her skin, reach her bones and send a chill through them. Making this whole experience even more unpleasant. Suddenly the world was real and she hated it for it. 

“ C’mon, “ he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a slight push in one of the directions “ let’s get inside the car. We can talk there.” 

This time she didn’t protest. Just followed his lead to a car, the cheap car that will soon probably fall apart. Was this fate meant for all of them in different ways? Each and everyone of them was a mix of pieces that were falling all over the place, held by some cheap tape. Even the dog. Maybe she would’ve found this hilarious if she would’ve still been high, but it was passing, making everything around worse and worse with each passing moment. She would’ve handled it a lot better, if the voices would finally shut up, but she was already greeted by the shriek of her mind, piercing right through her, yet she didn’t show any signs. Already used to that torture.

 She followed Logan into the car, sitting in the passenger seat and buckling her seatbelt. It was a habit by now, to make sure that if she falls out, it’d be at least with this damn seat. Nothing like a concept of comfy death. He also got in and started the car again, the soft hum of the engine filling her ears, slightly soothing the chaos in her mind. The scenery outside, so well known, yet now even more important. Each lamp, every rusty piece of railing, every painted line and the black asphalt. Simple things that looked so much different from this perspective, much less real and much more blurred. 

“ You promised you won’t smoke again.”

His voice echoed somewhere in the back of her mind, when he finally spoke up. Instead of answering she just reached out to turn on the radio. Random station and everything. Just something noisy enough to let her surface from the mess of thoughts in her mind. He sighed but didn’t push. They had time. She can talk later. 

Soon they passed the bridge, now being outside the city. The scenery filled with more and more trees, away from civilization. Now, all that was left was to go to their spot. Where many important talks already took place, many heart to heart shares of memories and troubles. The trees there already know their stories, at least the most important bits of them. After all it’s been years from that simple “Hi” that passed his and Wade’s mind one day and started all that. All this mess of yet another broken person to share their life with. However, Logan would never complain about it… Well, he maybe did but never really meant it. 

Car was filled with well known sounds of the song “Somewhere only we know”. Alice smiled a bit at the irony of the world and fate once again. Nothing happens without a reason, right? So maybe it was meant to play all along? Maybe it was supposed to be like this? Maybe the scolding was written in the stars for her long ago and there wasn’t really a way to escape all that? Why was it still heavy on her mind? The way this world works and the cruelty of fate, that definitely likes to play with people. To show them happiness just to forever tear it out of their hands and leave them hopeful but miserable. All you have left is hope, but what happens when you lose it? 

Her mind got pulled away from those thoughts, when the car came to a stop again. The clearing on a cliff. Not that far away from the city, yet far enough to feel free and sort of alone. 

“ So, again, you promised something.”

“ I know. But I had to. It got too loud, I didn’t know how to stop this anymore. I think it’s the loudest it's ever been… It’s painfull. And I have to go to work on Monday so I can’t be a walking zombie.”

“ So you decided to get high? Very reasonable. Really.”

“ Okay, sarcasm king, I know it makes no sense actually.” 

She muttered, her eyes focused on the outside still. Making out shapes of bushes and flowers in the darkness. Alice was feeling lost. It wasn’t only about the pain. It was also about how unfair it was, feeling cornered by her own mind, with no sensible way out. Like her fate was to be destroyed or destroy herself on her own. 

“ I’m jealous of normal people, you know, Logan?” She whispered, her voice barely coming over the songs from the radio. “ I wish I could just go one day with a silent mind. Without hearing thousands of things in it constantly, without having to pretend I’m all fine…”

Something was about that spot, about how it was making her so vulnerable without an issue. Just like that pushing her over that emotional edge. Tugging at her heart in all the right ways to make her believe that saying all that, out loud, would fix anything and everything. Somehow.. 

“ You remind me of someone…”

“ Charles? You used to tell me many stories about him, the great telepath and such, but how are we similar? You’ve never said about his struggles. I mean with the school and such, yes, but not with… With the thing.”

She looked at him, and he could sense that silent begging for any reassurance. For any way to prove that she wasn’t the only victim of her mind. That it wasn’t only her that suffers so much everyday. 

“ It was backfiring at him as well, something about his meds so he could walk, but wasn’t able to use his telepathy anymore…”

And that hope was gone. It was different for her again. She couldn’t stop this or trigger it. It was part of her. That pain was an inseparable part of her being it seemed. 

“ So it’s way different… If I could do anything to make it stop, I would, but I can’t. That’s the problem Logan. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s all the time under my skull, like I have a hive of pissed off bees in there, few of them even. Rushing all the time, buzzing, making it insufferable. And I have to act. I have to be fine. I can’t just pop a pill and call it a day. I tried. I was taking antidepressants, I was taking meds like a crazy person, it probably destroyed my body beyond repair with how much of them I took and it only got worse.. I… I can’t fix this.”

The vulnerability of her voice stung him deeply. The way she was nervously pulling at locks of her hair from time to time, looking somewhere ahead while her reddish eyes filled with tears, how that tone of her voice changed due to a stuffed nose. The shaking of her hands. He could only imagine how it must’ve felt. To be seen as crazy while all you’re trying to do is to survive. 

“I don’t want to suffer like that. “ More of a squeal than actual words. “ I don’t deserve this, Logan. I don’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. At least not to that point. I didn’t.. I really didn’t. I did a lot of bad things but nothing to be like that. To be cursed and damned when I just want to live.”

She was breaking in front of his very eyes. Her voice failed her more and more. Giving out more with each passing word. He reached out to her, offering her his arm to lean on. 

“ Come ‘ere…”

He didn’t know what to say. How to soothe her for now, so that was all he could do. Let the words fall and offer some support. She leaned on him immediately. Her body was shaking as she clenched her fingers around his arm, holding onto him as if he was about to disappear. 

“ I’m not a bad person… I’m just human, I’m allowed to make mistakes, so why am I punished like this? Why do I have to be a telepath? Why was I cursed? For what? So I can lose everything and everyone? Why…?”

He gently patted her hair this time. Cruel reality of being a mutant wasn’t leaving anyone, huh? It took her a bit more to regain her breath and just lean on him without a word. She knew he didn’t have the answer she wanted. Alice was never mad at him, it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. She glanced at the clock. They should be going back, but at the same time… Staying here was better. 

“ Can we stay for a bit longer..?”

“Sure. As long as you want.”

He saw it helped. A lot. So now he just keeps his arm around her shoulder in hopes that it helps a bit, distracts her mind enough to at least not hurt her anymore. Because, what we are without hope, right?

[herejusttosufferalong]

Y'all, I've been glued to this saga because L and R are so similar to what I went thru with my ex, like down to the sleeping on the couch thing, only reversed, that I don't know whether to laugh or cry. A and S don't know what they're in for.

Storytime: My ex's Rory is called Mike and they met playing a sport in college when X was a freshman and M was a super senior, so he's ~4 years older. M took X under his wing and they became bros for life I guess. M is super nice and goofy but a hot mess as a person, can't be trusted with the simplest of tasks but gets by by being beloved by everyone. X has consistently thrown him bones, brought him on to projects and recommended him for gigs at the expense of his own career and reputation. You can't make this shit up.

X and I were long distance for the first ~year of the relationship, I moved out to him to a small ass town an hour away from anywhere because of his job and because it was cheap. We were in a 1bd apartment and the first little while was bliss, hot and heavy, amazing. It was my first time living with a partner. Maybe a few months in, M calls X - he got a job in the city an hour away and he's moving down. X gets the brilliant idea to invite him to stay on our couch until he finds a place. I was fine with it at first because he was a super nice guy but I had no idea what I was getting into. Ladies, when I tell you I became the 3rd wheel in my own relationship and a ghost in my own home, I'm not being dramatic.

I was working from home so I was alone all day in a town where I knew no one who wasn't connected to X in some way and when the two of them would get home, they'd bro out with each other and I basically had to compete for my bf's attention. We stopped doing anything that didn't include him and constantly had to be mindful about how loud we were in the bedroom because he was on the fucking couch. I couldn't relax in my own home that I was paying rent and bills for. Mind you, M at this point was further along in his career than X and making way more money. Two months pass, he still hasn't found a place and instead commutes an hour each way to work. Then the fucking pandemic hits. I was the only one working initially and I was at home with the two of them playing video games, working out, watching TV, yelling, laughing, on TT, on Zoom with their other buddies 24/7 while I was trying to work. We'd constantly end up doing whatever they wanted to do. Dude stayed on our couch for like 10 1/2 months, only paying for groceries, takeout and activities here and there. I kinda snapped during the holidays, I drove across the country alone to be with my family and didn't go back, my dad then made a round trip to go get my stuff because I just couldn't even look at X. Only then did it occur to X and M that maybe M should move out. But you know what the narrative in his friend group is about me? That I'm a cold bitch who broke his heart.

I look back on it now and I'm angry at myself for being such a dummy, I was a total pushover. My X wasn't a bad dude, he was just too much of a bro to know how to be a bf. He always felt a need to include everyone but that cut into the little time we had together. In my defense, he was really hot lol.

It's crazy to think how different my life is now with my fiance, we just bought a house earlier this spring, which wouldn't have been possible with my X because he spends all his money on his hobbies. X literally did the same HBS thing L did after I dumped him, hit the gym like crazy, he follows like a thousand half naked girls on IG, likes all their posts and thirsts in the comments, it's beyond cringe. This is also on his fully public IG account that he also uses for work. He hasn't been in a serious relationship since, I'm told he's become quite the fboy, but he's collected a seemingly infinite amount of new bros judging by his posts. M is still in the picture, of course, although he has his own place and a serious gf now, while my ex has a new roommate who he plays an expensive, niche equipment sport with that he spends every penny he earns on. My ex was a Leo, so I'm not surprised L has it prominently in his chart.

This stuff is not uncommon among younger Millennial men. My now fiance is 5 years older and he is a Man. He shows up for me the way I show up for him, he doesn't make plans without considering me and he's on top of his finances. He's a serious person. I never knew I could be at peace like this. I know what I'm building towards with him. A and S are just sidepieces to the main love story that is L and R and if/when one of them gets dumped, the other one will as well. They're there because they go along with what L and R want. It'll come back to bite them in the ass but they'll learn an invaluable lesson the way that I did - don't date a manchild who won't prioritize you over his friends.

some good advice for the youngins

thank you for sharing 💜🥃

[passionateseadruid]

I wonder if the bride actually got along with some of the sins how Luci would react, on one hand yay family getting along with your partner on the other hand he’s jelly

Also after assault that was 100% justified and then some and honestly he should feel grateful for the gift dildos ain’t exactly cheap plus it takes a while to bedazzle shit, not to mention he caused a scene in front of her folks this is just payback dude

I wonder how the sins would react, they probably can’t do much, Ozzie probably wouldn’t approve once he caught wind of the deal being the consent king he is but they have no power over Luci

Ooh interesting callout to Charlie too, the sinners aren’t the only denizens of Hell, maybe she’s attached bc they have a chance and she sees the connection with her mom since Lilith was the OG sinner but what about the rest of her people? Don’t they deserve care too?

I love that Fizz is in her corner. It makes me wonder how her relationship would be with the other hotel members. Maybe an allyship with Alastor over mutual dislike of Lucifer much to his chagrin. I also wonder how she’d bond with Angel. Maybe he recognizes the signs and points them out to an oblivious Charlie before they even meet bc she’s fuming about how awful she is, maybe Husk joins in.

Either way I can’t wait to see how it goes!

I adore this so much.

Firstly, I must say she got the toy from Fizzarolli. He thought it was fucking hilarious, so he just gave it to her for free. Because Fizzarolli is a gay icon, and we Stan him in this household.

Secondly, I feel like she would be very very uncomfortable with Satan just because of the environment she grew up in. Also those two fuck boys (Luci and Satana(intentional)) kind of deserve the hate. I mean there’s literally a whole book on it. Not the point right now.

I’m getting this out of the way right now she absolutely hates Mammon because boo greedy capitalist tomato tomato. The rich ass gets richer and the poor imps suffer, we hate to see it. Also, she’s gonna be fucking pissed when she finds out all the shit he is put Fizz through. (Pfft I had such an unhinged thought. “Love to see Mammon go, hate to watch his fat ass giggle as he walks away.” I’m so sorry.

Beelzebub is interesting because I actually want to do something with her and the hellhounds so I don’t want to give too much away right now and I’ve been planning this since really early on probably like chapter 3 I’d say I’ve been planning what I want to do with a Bee in the hellhounds. So you’ll see more probably chapter 10 I’d say it would’ve been the next chapter but then a comment on ao3 made me kind of switch up my plan.

I will say this her and Ozzies relationship is complicated because on one hand, he’s not even worried about the possibility that Fizzarolli is going to cheat with her because Fizz is gay. On the other hand though, he understands what her being in hell means and it is not good. I just love the little interaction though with Ozzie where he sees the two of them in the pantry and he’s just like “oh OK there’s just having a chat. probably about Lucifer.”

I don’t know that much about Belphegor other than his lower is a lot deeper than what I have been led to believe. He’s just a depressed little guy. (Or is she in the shows case)

Also, I know nothing about Levi because the show hasn’t really told us much about him and I’m just like OK cool I have to write a series about this, so Vivian I’m gonna need a bit more.

I would adore it, though, if Levi and Belphegor actually were just super chill, and the bride just got along splendidly with them that would be great. For now I’m going to focus on the sins. We do know about such as Ozzie, Bee and Mammon. So far she only has somewhat of a good rapport with Ozzie.

Now the Ars Goetia on the other hand, I wanna do so much with them. There’s so much we could explore! There’s 72 cars Goetia, and only one of them was like a knight so I wanna make so many OCs. You have no idea!

As for her relationship with the other hotel guests we’re going to get to that after the wedding so that’ll be probably after I want to say somewhere between chapter 13-15 maybe I’m not totally sure.

at this point it’s pretty clear that it’s non-canon compliant but this does take place like six months before the hotel is established. Then there’s probably going to be a time skip and and and there’s going to be a “queen for a Day” chapter. I am so excited for that I’m gonna be paying homage to tangled the series because Jeremy Jordan plays Varian, and that I thought “ha that’s funny.”

anyway, her relationship with the hotel guests. her and Alastair are going to have a dynamic similar to this video.

Her and angel are basically just her and Fizzarolli again. And you guys know how she was when Renesmee was being mistreated and abused. She is going to be standing up for husk. They homies. They ride or dies. Unfortunately though she’s not going to get to meet Pentious but she’d completely adore him.

[howi99]

A Qrow's nest Prologue 1

I wanted to make something without Jaune for once. I think that should be alright.

Cinder: *thinking while being "punished"* "The Madame is mad again. I don't understand, i did everything she asked of me. Why is she hurting me? What did i do wrong?"

The Madame: My daughter's told me you tried stealing food from the cuisine.

Cinder: *weakly* I didn't do it... I was on guest duty all day Ma- *get shocked* GHAAA!

The Madame: *snearing at Cinder* You dare imply that MY daughters are liars!?

The sisters: *giggling*

The Madame: *sigh* What will i do with you? You can't do anything correctly and you keep talking back. Maybe i should get rid of you?

Cinder: *panic in her eyes* Please! I-i'll be better! I'm sorry! I'll never steal again i promise!

The Madame: *rolling her eyes* Then go back to your duty and if i hear you did anything wrong again...

Cinder: *fear* Y-yes Madame!

The Madame: We got a guest that just arrived. A huntsman who smells of cheap alcohol. Do get him to his chamber as fast as possible so he doesn't ruin our precious image. You are also forbidden to eat until tomorrow, is that clear?

Cinder: Y-yes!

____

Qrow: *on his scroll* -yeah, i'm at the glass unicorn and- *feel a tug on his cloak* old on a sec. *Turn around to see a little girl* ... Are you lost kid?

Cinder: *shaking her head while whispering* Your room is ready...

Qrow: Wait, you work here? It's already 9pm, shouldn't you be sleeping?

Cinder: *tugging again* ... Your room is ready...

Qrow: *understanding something wrong is going on and playing along* Fine. Show me the way kid.

As Cinder and Qrow walked to the chamber, he couldn't help but notice how frail she was. The poor girl seemed malnourished. And that collar, he could see the burn mark all around her neck.

Cinder: *showing his room* Number 237. *Give him the key* I shall leave you for the night. *Begin to leave*

Qrow: *Taking a decision* Hey kid, can you bring food to this room? I heard the food was really good.

Cinder: *stomach growling but still ignored* I'll be back in a few short minutes.

Qrow: And since i don't know what to take, i'll trust you with the choice. *Seeing her panic* Don't worry, i'm not picky.

Cinder: *slowly acquiescing then leaving*

Qrow: ... Fuck, i think i might need to call James for that... But then again... *Smiling* what a little bit of bad luck could help getting her out of here?

10 minutes pass

Cinder: *knocking at the door* Mister? I brought you what you asked.

Qrow: *sitting on the bed* You can enter. I'm doing maintenance on my weapon so could you be a dear and put it on the table?

Cinder: ... *Slowly open the door with enough food for 3*

Qrow: *laughing* Kid, i wasn't that hungry! But thanks for the selection.

Cinder: *panicking* W-what? Oh, oh no, oh no no no! I'm so sorry mister! I wasn't sure what you'd like and-

Qrow: What about you take some? I don't mind. *Look at the most juicy steak he ever saw in his life* I'm not a beef guy, so you can take it.

Cinder: ... I can't.

Qrow: ? Why?

Cinder: The madame said i... I wasn't allowed to eat until tomorrow...

Qrow: *sigh* Kid, be frank with me. Does the owner hurt you?

Cinder: *almost crying but forcing a smile in her face like the madame asked of her* N-no! I'm happy to be an employee of the glass unicorn!

Qrow: ... *Put his weapon aside and approach Cinder* Kid *kneeling down to be at her level* You don't have to lie to me. I'm a huntsman, i'm the hero that save the day. I just need you to tell me; does she hurt you?

Cinder: *unable to keep her smile, she's now crying* I just want to be useful! She always punishes me! I can't take it anymore, i can't!

Qrow: *hugging her gently* It's okay kid, everything will be fine now.

Cinder: *continue crying*

???: What is the meaning of this!?

Qrow: *turning around to see the madame* I saw the burning mark on her neck and her lack of nutrition. I saw how bad you treated her!

The madame: *smirking* And what can you do? You have no power over me, huntsman. I have a lot of very powerful friends. And you! *Point at Cinder* I see i wasn't hard enough on you. I see now i should have used the whip inste-

Qrow: THAT'S ENOUGH! *Punch the Madame in the face, knocking her out* Fucking bitch! *Turn to cinder who's in shock, having difficulty breathing* Hey, hey! Look at me! *Kneel back at her* You are safe, ok? I won't let her touch a single hair of your head, ok? Take some deep breath, ok?

Cinder: *takes deeps breath, calming down a bit*

Qrow: That's it, you are alright. *Take his scroll out, calling someone* Come on you cunt...

Raven: *answering* Well well well, if it isn't my brother who-

Qrow: Raven, i need your help right now or next time you see me will be when you'll visit me in a cell.

Raven: *sigh* What did you do this time?

Qrow: *angry* I knocked out an Atlesian bitch who tortured a kid, now use your damn semblance before i change knocked out to volontary homicide.

Raven: Ok, chill! *Open portal* gee, and here i thought you were asking about Yang's birthday.

Qrow: *takes Cinder hand in his* I won't let you down kid, what's your name?

Cinder: C-cinder... Cinder Fall.

[catgirl-catboy]

Mastermind Whit Essay

Okay, I'm really unsure of how to begin this post. I know most people in the DRDT fandom suspect Teruko as the mastermind due to her secret, but are we perhaps playing right into the masterminds hands?

I feel like if Teruko was genuinely the mastermind, she wouldn't give David of all people a note confirming she is. Due to how misleading the secrets have been with other people, it makes far more sense to read this as a frame by the true mastermind.

Maybe Teruko would deliberately make herself suspicious if it were chapter 5 or 6, but in chapter 2??? I'm not buying it.

I feel like this red herring of Teruko is hiding another, far more suspicious character.

Before we get into our theory, the mastermind should match up with the killing game's mascot.

Monokuma and Junko are the obvious pair, since Junko herself chooses to look like Monokuma. There are also hints in Monokuma theater about her true identity.

Monomi and Izuru also have some parallels, especially since Usami's transformation into Monomi could be considered a nod to Hajime's transformation into Izuru.

Monokubs are cheap ripoffs of Monokuma. Tsumugi is a cheap ripoff of Junko.

This trend also tends to apply to fangans, but I'd rather not spoil any for you.

So what does Monotv say about our mysterious mastermind? Monotv's personality tends to focus on one thing: ratings. He will also fake ineptitude on occasion to make things more interesting.

What if I told you that there was a DRDT character whose every action happens to increase ratings?

That's right, ladies and gentlemen (and Nico!), I'm talking about Whit.

Whit is one of the few characters we see before we get an introduction for him. And what do we see him doing? Turning Hu against the group.

Hu is one of the few characters that isn't willing to trust the group with her secret in chapter 2, and this could very well be because of the bad first impression Whit helped make. This has a side effect of having her emotionally dependent on David by trial 2, which I'm positive will have bad results when the hiatus ends.

When we get to his introduction proper, he spends most of it trying to force Teruko and Xander closer together. This isn't his only notable interaction with Teruko either, since he's the only one that prods her to talk about her past pre-trial 1.

It's hard to say for certain about Whit's intentions, but most of his actions appear to have negative concequences later on in the game.

When it comes to Whit, he claims most of his actions are guided by his intuition, like Sayaka before him.

But when you look at things from an objective point of view, his intuition might not hold up. This is the person that hid David's secret from the class for as long as practical.

Why?

In-universe, Whit claims its to help David's career.

But if you look at it closely, does this claim make any sense? This killing game is televised, so it'd be reasonable to suspect that the in-universe DRDT audience knows all the secrets before the characters do.

Besides, how good can Whit's intuition be if he believed in the good of someone as suspicious as David.

So, if Whit's stated motive for keeping that secret doesn't hold up (to me.), what would? Why, MonoTV's motive! Everything Whit does intentionally or unintentionally ups ratings.

Teruko distrusting and being isolated from the group? Is good for ratings.

(Whit didn't bring her back into the group like he did with Charles, which reads as OOC behavior to me. But do you know who canonically doesn't want Teruko talking with the group? MonoTV.)

Hu and David getting close and having a falling out? Is good for ratings.

You could even argue his relationship with Charles is good for ratings.

Speaking of David, I find it interesting that Whit used the same tactic as David to avoid sharing his secret, but did it better.

Unlike David, Whit dropped multiple possible secrets, and admitted the possibility that it could be none of them upfront. This makes him dodge the suspicion David got when his stated secret wasn't on the list.

Whit's secret wasn't even given much attention in the trial itself.

I also feel like Whit's secret was worded a lot more plainly than most of the other secrets. Compare "your mother is dead, you always omit that truth" to "Your older brother died, but you don't remember him at all." or "Your younger sister killed herself because of you. You should have never left."

It could just be because the secret isn't plot-relevant this chapter, or it could be because Whit's secret isn't what it seems.

Another thing, Whit is pretty strange around corpses. He made a dark joke about Min's execution, and under reacts to every corpse in the game so far. Many people think this has something to do with his mom, but I have one question for those people. Would that really explain why he's worse than Veronika, who canonically enjoys the game?

This concludes the main part of my analysis, but here are some details that could be questionable with Mastermind!Whit in mind. (Or maybe I just think everything he does is suspicious, who knows!)

In chapter 1, he deliberately threw the arm wrestling contest to Teruko. Could be hiding his true strength?

He chooses NOT to break up fights that were going nowhere. This seems contrary to what an ideal matchmaker should do in this context.

His name. Whit is one letter away from Wit, meaning intelligence. That could be an example of some very clever foreshadowing. But... its a reach.

He was one of the 3 to get redesigns, along with the protagonist. However, he got specific attention done to his eyes. Every Mastermind in canon does something cool to their eyes upon the reveal.

Out of all of the canon Danganronpa characters, Whits talent is the closest to Toko's. Charwit could be an inversion of Togafuwa, with feelings being one-sided on Toko's (Whit's) end this time.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

J Is Just A Letter

Chapter 5 - What Could Have Been

It was several weeks before he heard anything from her. Lady Smallwood had mentioned to him on several occasions that he needed to make more progress, but he reassured her that J would make contact when she had looked over the terms of the deal.

‘You’d better be right.’ Lady Smallwood said, sternly. They stood in the surveillance room watching over an operation taking place in Johannesburg. ‘How long does she usually take to make contact?’

‘Depends.’ Mycroft mused. ‘If she gets her way, no time at all, if not, no time at all, but if she’s considering something… much, much longer.’

‘So, are we to consider this a good thing?’

‘We are.’ He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. ‘The longer she takes, the more she is considering our offer.’

‘And what exactly is it we’ve offered her, Mycroft? You’ve not been very forthcoming about the details.’ Smallwood turned to face him.

‘She’s a woman of taste, a desire for a higher class of lifestyle, if we can satisfy those needs, she may be more inclined to give us what we want.’ Mycroft explained. ‘That is what we have offered her. Satisfaction.’

Before Lady Smallwood could speak, one of the technicians spoke up. ‘Sir, you should see this.’

Mycroft turned his attention back to the screen. The team had made it through the building, found where the hostages were being kept and each of them were holding up a sign with a letter on. It spelt out: “No deal. Try harder. J”

He felt his heart dropping and Lady Smallwood sighed next to him.

‘You heard the woman,’ she said. ‘Try harder. And do it quickly. This is getting out of hand.’

Mycroft just stared at the screen, if she was responsible for this operation being completed then she wasn’t exactly being as destructive as he first thought. She saved the hostages from the gang members, who were tied up in another room. How did she even know about Johannesburg? He decided to send her a text.

MH: Rediscuss terms?

She got back to him almost instantly.

J: Call. Tell me I look pretty.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, she was teasing him, coaxing him into something he wasn’t so keen on getting sucked into.

He told Anthea to clear his next appointment, he’d let her know when he was ready to see anyone. He was a little wary of making this phone call from inside his office, it was soundproof and no cameras were there, other than the ones he planted just in case, but still, one couldn’t be too careful.

Mycroft sat back in his chair and dialled the number he had memorised. Two rings and she picked up.

‘Well?’ She said. He could hear her slight smile, but also the sounds of cars. Possibly she was walking down a street in a city, he couldn’t quite identify whether it was London or not though.

‘You have our thanks for dealing with the situation in Johannesburg.’ Mycroft stated plainly.

‘You’re welcome.’

‘However that operation was top secret. How did you find out about it?’

‘Cheap tricks, Mr Holmes, cheap tricks.’

Mycroft listened to the street growing quieter, a door opened close to her and the echo of a hallway could be heard.

‘Where are you?’ He asked.

‘Out.’

‘Out?’

‘Running errands, we all have them.’

‘Indeed. I suspect your definition of running errands is vastly different to most people.’

‘It is.’ He could hear her smiling. ‘So, are you going to give me what I want?’

‘I thought I had.’

‘Oh, believe me, Mr Holmes, it was very tempting.’ She was ascending some stairs. Concrete stairs, but she wasn’t wearing heels, rubber soles, possibly boots. Why would she be wearing boots? ‘I even thought about calling you.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘This was more fun. And I like to see the shock and surprise on your face when you least expect me.’

Mycroft listened very carefully to what she said and the way she was saying it.

‘I didn’t realise you could see me.’

‘Oh yes,’ she dropped the depth of her voice and it was starting to blur his mind. ‘I’m always watching, always listening.’

‘Then it seems you don’t need all access, if you can hear and see everything, surely your charm is sufficient to grant you access wherever you see fit.’

‘Shall we test that theory?’

Mycroft was silent.

‘I thought you wanted to rediscuss terms.’

‘I do.’ Mycroft took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps we could meet again and you can tell me what you disliked about the last agreement. I’m sure there’s a middle ground we can work from.’

She had stopped walking altogether, he could hear the sounds of typing, muffled voices from her surroundings, wherever she was, he didn’t like it.

‘Tell me I look pretty today.’

‘I haven’t seen you today.’

‘Does that matter?’

‘Yes.’

‘I like it when you say yes to me.’

‘And you dislike when I say no.’

‘Very much.’

Mycroft needed to get back on track. ‘Will you meet with me?’

‘Do you still have my photos?’

He swallowed thickly.

‘Good.’ She said, smiling. ‘Do you still look at them and think of me?’

‘Hard to think of anything else when I’m looking at a photograph of you.’

‘Mmm, I do like a man who can flirt. Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m wearing?’

‘I’d rather ask about what you disliked about my last proposal.’

He heard her take in a deeper breath, before sitting back in whatever chair she was occupying and unfolding a piece of paper.

‘I suppose I can indulge for a moment or two.’

‘Busy, are you?’

‘Very.’

He listened to the sounds of her breath stuttering.

‘If I called you every time I went somewhere, we’d never speak to anyone else.’ She stated, a smile forming once again on her lips. ‘If I were to give you all the information you don’t already have, it would be outdated by the time I was done.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I think it’s enough to be getting on with.’

‘What did you like?’

J paused for a moment. Mycroft could have sworn she held her breath for a moment, as waiting for something. ‘I like that you want to keep an eye on me. I like that you want to watch me… tell me I look pretty today.’

‘Meet with me.’

Another pause.

‘If I’m still alive by the end of the day, I will meet with you.’

‘What do you mean if you’re still alive?’

‘Tell me I look pretty today.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘You know why.’

‘Infinitely complex.’ She breathed and Mycroft had a very bad feeling. ‘Goodbye, Mr Holmes.’

Before Mycroft could say anything else. J hung up.

He stood up and opened his door, ordering Anthea to get J’s location as soon as possible.

‘Sir?’

‘I have a feeling she might be in danger.’ Mycroft said, shutting his door and making every phone call under the sun to find her.

She could literally be anywhere in the world, they couldn’t run facial recognition for some reason, very few people actually knowing what she looked like and narrowing it down to cities was simply not good enough. It was hours of going back and forth and Mycroft felt his heart thumping harder and harder each time someone came up to him to give information that was relatively useless.

There was nothing more Mycroft could do from the office, he went home and settled in his armchair, a glass of scotch poured and the fire blazing in front of him. He stayed up well into the morning hours, waiting for his phone to ring.

J:Still up?

There was no real way to tell if it was her or not, the number was the same, but she rarely made contact this way.

MH: Verification?

His phone began ringing.

‘It’s as if you don’t trust me, Mr Holmes.’ She said, her voice unmistakeable.

‘Well, you can hardly blame me.’ He said, letting a relieved breath go.

‘Are you going to let me in?’

Mycroft froze for a moment. Was she actually outside his house? Or was she bluffing? He stood up and wandered over to his security cameras, bringing up the one directly outside his front door. There she was, staring up at the camera, smiling.

‘Satisfied?’ She lifted her head, accentuating her neck, the neck he wanted to kiss.

Mycroft hung up the phone and watched her for just a second or two. She put her phone back in her clutch and waited. Black and white certainly was a flattering filter on her, no distractions, but more than enough to stimulate his mind.

He went to the door and opened it. She wore a dark red, wrap dress, one that extended down the length of her arms and cradled her curves beautifully. Her soft, dark hair once again over one side and her lips a perfectly neutral colour. She wore just a little make up, but only enough to amplify her features, she wasn’t looking to go over the top, subtlety was her approach tonight. Her heels pushed her back up and therefore created more smooth curves to make his mouth water.

Mycroft stepped to one side, letting her in. He didn’t bother hiding his admiration of her from behind, she clearly had a trying day. She liked it when he looked at her. Mycroft led her into the lounge where he’d been sitting and gestured for her to take the seat opposite him. She did so, slipping off her heels and pulling her knees up.

Her whole body was toned and defined, like she was used to keeping herself in good shape. He poured another scotch and handed it to her, noting the very slight tremor in her hand and the red in her usually clear emerald eyes.

‘What were you doing today?’ Mycroft asked, settling back in his armchair and observing her closely.

‘What do you think I was doing?’ She shot back.

‘Misbehaving.’ Mycroft gave a tired smile, he wasn’t sure how in the mood for games he was, he’d already had three glasses of scotch and the fear he was making that obvious was clouding his better judgement.

She smiled and sipped the brown liquid, never taking her eyes off of him.

‘What were you doing today?’

‘Looking for you.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yes.’

‘I like it when you say yes.’

‘I know.’

Mycroft observed her lips, part of him wanting to kiss her, the other part wanting to know why she had a small cut on one side of her mouth. ‘I want to keep saying yes, but you’re making it… difficult.’ He chose the word carefully, not wanting to give her any other reason to become distracted from the current topic. She smiled, gently biting her lip, it made his mouth water a little more.

‘How can I make it easier for you?’

‘Agree to terms.’

‘Set them.’

‘I already have.’

‘Set new ones.’ She was challenging him, he couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t get over how much he enjoyed her challenge. He ran his hand over his face and tried to think clearly. ‘I’ll help you.’ Mycroft leaned on his hand, tilting his head to look at her from a new angle. ‘I want something unique, I want something personal, I don’t want a piece of paper that’s been drawn up by some junior clerk in the office, I want you and I to have a personal relationship. I’m sure you can draw up terms that fit with that brief.’

Mycroft observed her for a moment, thinking hard on what his next move would be. ‘Why did you give me those photos?’

‘I wanted you to have a little something to remember me by.’

‘You thought there was a risk I’d forget you?’

‘No.’

She sipped her scotch and Mycroft was hypnotised by the way her throat moved as she swallowed, he wanted to taste the skin on her neck, he wanted to kiss and bite at the flesh. He quickly distracted himself, knowing full well if he continued to dwell he’d only encourage her.

‘I need information,’ he tried a new tactic. ‘I need locations and names. I know that you have a specific skillset and one that is able to acquire such things, so I suppose without giving away every official secret the British Government has, I would like to strike a deal that ensures we both get what we want.’

‘And you think by asking me to check in every time I do something secretive is the way to do it?’

‘It’s just one possible option.’

‘May I suggest another?’

‘Please do.’

She stood up, placing her glass down and stood between his legs, he knew how this was about to go and honestly, what was the point in resisting any longer?

‘I like getting phone calls from you,’ she said, staring down at him, her face half lit by the fire and Mycroft had never seen anything so seductive in his life. ‘I like when you ask me what I’m doing. Maybe we can make that a regular occurrence.’

‘At least once a week.’

‘Fine.’ She smirked, stepping closer. ‘But once you’ve got what you want and are satisfied I’m behaving well enough, I want to pick the topic of conversation.’

Mycroft swallowed nervously, he had a feeling that this was about to go further than he really wanted it to, but he was powerless to resist.

‘I don’t mind sharing information, if you ask, I will tell you the truth.’ She slowly lifted herself to straddle him, hovering over his lap. Mycroft placed his glass down and prayed she had a little mercy on him. ‘But I have other things I’d like to do.’

‘Such as?’

‘That would be telling.’

‘Yes.’ He watched the dark flash in her eyes, she really did enjoy him saying yes.

‘Are you going to take my pulse again, Mr Holmes?’

‘I might.’ Her hands were resting below his arms on the end of the armrests, still hovering above his lap, but he could feel the heat of her body against him and it was beginning to drive him mad. It was everything to keep his composure. ‘What other things would you like to do?’

‘Now you’re asking.’

‘You know what I’m asking.’ He could feel his own breathing slipping away from him, it was no longer steady, it was shallow and he was warm, very warm. He wished he’d loosened his tie before she was on top of him.

‘May I sit, Mr Holmes?’ She whispered, her breath hitting him and making him suck in harshly, completely giving himself away. He composed enough of himself to take the opportunity as he saw it.

‘Only if you tell me which door you really want to open.’

She grinned, he just about caught it, she liked that he was playing the game with her. Maybe this was how he needed to work it for the time being, play the game, take what he could.

‘I’d settle for the one that leads to your bedroom.’

Mycroft chuckled, darkly. ‘Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.’ Her breath stuttered and the shake in her body was unmistakeable. ‘For now, tell me which door you want to open and I’ll let you sit down.’ His head lifted just barely, just enough to feel her incredibly quick shallow breath against his mouth. ‘Tell me.’ He coaxed, gently.

‘There is a secret door that only a select few have access to,’ she was almost panting and Mycroft’s mind was flying to what her properly panting would sound like, preferably with him inside her making it happen. ‘If I told you which one it was, you would know everything there was to know about me… I’m not ready for that yet.’

Mycroft swallowed. He debated with himself, whatever it was she really wanted, what she was saying with her body, he wanted it too.

Mycroft brought his hands slowly up to her hips, never breaking eye contact with her dark green eyes, he wrapped his fingers gently around her, feeling her lips part just slightly against his. He paused, making her wait, before guiding her down to feel exactly what the proximity of her body had done to his. She let out the most beautiful sigh he’d ever heard and he was verging on doing the same. Her eyes fluttered closed, absorbing the feel of him pushing against the fabric of his trousers. Mycroft could have stayed there all night, she was finally in his hands, compliant, willing.

‘Is it just one?’ Mycroft tried to focus. She didn’t move on top of him which was an absolute godsend for his focus, if she had moved or starting grinding, then he was a goner. ‘Just the one door you’d like to open?’ He repeated.

‘Yes.’ She sighed and Mycroft couldn’t help his head falling back and sucking in a sharp breath. He suddenly felt her hips properly and much to his agony, felt no trace of underwear. ‘I never wear anything more than you can see when I visit.’ She said, smiling. He almost let a groan go, but just held on.

‘Is this door one I can access?’ He was desperate to hold on.

‘Let me loosen your tie.’

‘Fine.’ He swallowed, needing the release from somewhere, his tie seemed the less threatening of the two options.

Her fingers came up and slowly traced his jaw, down his neck, making his eyes shut and absorb the touch. Mycroft couldn’t recall the last time he’d been explored in such detail, in fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been touched properly. Far too long. He was slowly becoming addicted to her soft fingertips tracing every inch of his jaw and neck, he didn’t want her to stop, he couldn’t let her stop, ever.

Mycroft became aware very quickly that his breathing had turned into panting the same way hers had and somehow, he didn’t mind. She gently pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, taking full advantage of the hair poking out, something that made her sigh. He managed to open his eyes enough to see her biting her lip.

‘You can access the door.’ She said, looking up at him through her long lashes.

Mycroft took a breath to help him steady himself, noting the slight movement of his hips pushing up into her, it didn’t go unnoticed by her and she smiled. ‘Then why don’t you allow me to open it for you?’

‘I told you,’ she said, shaking her head and smiling. ‘You’d know everything there was to know about me if I let you do that.’

‘I thought you wanted me to know you.’ Mycroft frowned, watching the slight panic return.

‘No longer an option.’ She said, cryptically. He couldn’t let that be the answer, she wanted him to know her, that was what she admitted to in his office, he wanted to know her, he’d never made a secret of it. So, why was it no longer an option? ‘Ask me something else.’ Her hands remained on his chest, fingertips gently pressing into him, massaging the muscle beneath.

‘I will phone you once a week,’ Mycroft let his eyes drift to where his hands were still holding her hips, his thumbs idly running over the bone. ‘Check in. You will give me any information I ask for-‘

‘Just the one piece. One per phone call, use it wisely.’

‘Fine,’ Mycroft nodded. ‘And when you can prove the information is worthwhile, I will give you what you ask for.’

‘You’re going to make me earn it.’ Her smile was suddenly back, playful and testing.

‘I am.’ Mycroft looked her dead in the eye and held her gaze, hoping she could see he was serious.

‘Well, thank God for that.’

Mycroft was desperate to have more than this woman simply sitting on top of him, he wanted to touch her and worship her and listen to her make the beautiful sounds her knew she was capable of.

‘What happens once you get what you want?’ Mycroft asked, trying so very hard to get what information he could.

‘In what regard?’

‘I expect these visits won’t be a necessity for you anymore.’ Why did he suddenly feel like he was the one being interrogated?

She leaned closer, her soft lips once again brushing his. ‘This is my pleasure, Mr Holmes. Just pleasure.’ He let a small groan escape, just enough to make her smile.

‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘How’s my pulse?’

Mycroft had had enough of the game. He sat up, wrapping his arm gently around her lower back, pulling her closer into his hips, making her feel him and groan into the feeling. His other hand traced up to her neck, brushing the stray hair out of the way, he suddenly had an idea. He dipped his head to trace his lips up her slender neck, finding the spot where her pulse was pounding hard against his mouth.

‘Racing.’ He breathed, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, vanilla extract, but he could also smell her and that was just warmth in itself.

‘Mycroft.’ She moaned, her fingers diving into his hair, wanting him closer, craving more of his body. The sound was maddening, he wanted to hear it again and again, he wanted her to be unable to say anything else.

‘Do you accept the terms?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed.

‘I like it when you say yes to me.’ He smiled just below her ear. He could feel her smooth thigh in his hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb just beneath the hem of her dress. ‘I like it when you say my name.’

‘I know.’ She panted a laugh, her heart still thumping against his chest as she pressed into him. He liked the shape of her, the curve of her breasts, collarbone, her neck, everything just fit against him, but he needed more. He needed to feel her skin pressing against his.

‘Would you like me to say yours?’

‘I didn’t think you were paying attention.’ She was mocking him, teasing him and he didn’t appreciate her lack of faith in his skill.

Mycroft traced his lips across her soft, smooth jaw until he was right next to her ear. ‘Don’t tease me, Jade.’ He whispered so quietly he may as well have made no noise at all. But she heard him loud and clear, because she froze. Her breathing halted for a split second and her once compliant body went rigid for just a tiny fraction of time.

Jade placed her hand on the crook of his elbow, indicating for him to loosen his grip. ‘You’re an impressive man, Mycroft. I mean that in every way, but until I open that door, I’m not safe. Do not utter that name to a single other person.’ She moved his arm and gently pushed him back in his armchair.

Mycroft really didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want her to leave, he just wanted to kiss her. He held her forearm gently, just enough to keep her in position a little longer, no real grip.

‘Don’t leave.’ He said.

Jade tilted her head and smiled. ‘This could have been a beautiful night.’

Mycroft didn’t try to stop her, he knew he couldn’t. He just watched her slide off him, put her heels back on and down the rest of her scotch. She turned back to see him observing her.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me, Mr Holmes?’

‘How could I?’

She smiled, almost sweetly, but he could see the frustration in her expression. Jade left Mycroft sitting in his armchair, staring into the fire, his body ignited, but no flames in sight. She was right, it could have been such a beautiful night.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

Main Story

Mycroft Holmes Masterlist

[obsidiancreates]

Dimensional Constants and Curveballs

"So you guys do the whole white eyes thing a lot." Leon picks his teeth with a sai he snatched from Raph.

"Only when we're intensely focused and determined." Leo looks up from his meditation. "And when we're really angry, sometimes."

"How do yours work, then? Because we don't control ours, they just sort of happen, and I personally think it's related to our Mystic-ness somehow. I mean, April can do it too, but she's awesome enough that she may as well be as mystic as we are."

"Donnie thinks it might be some kind of extra eyelid, since some species are know to have them and we don't know what we are. But he says it's also possible it's an effect of mutation, and more like a film that clouds our eyes instead of a layer going over them."

"Wait, some turtles have third eyelids?"

"And cats."

"WHAT?!"

"Pretty much what I thought when Donnie told me that."

"Okay okay but, if it's either a third eyelid, ew, or some kind of weird film inside of your eye, which is also ew, how does it actually happen?"

"We just make it happen, usually, but sometimes it's out of our control like yours."

"How do you make it happen?! I want to figure it out so I can do it way more often, it looks so cool!"

"Um... huh. ... I don't actually know how we do it. We just... do it. Like... the same way we just move our limbs, or just itch our uh- do you guys call these noses? Sometimes we do and sometimes we don't."

"Hmm? Oh yeah, these are noses or snouts to us. Wait, why don't you guys know what kinds of turtles you are?"

"Donnie thinks we're either diamondback terrapins or common box turtles, but our DNA is too mutated to know for sure and Sensei said there was no sign about it in the pet store. He got us really cheap."

"Huh. Our dad got us for free. Well, Pops did, I actually don't know where Draxum got us from. I should ask Mikey to ask him that."

"Your Mikey also befriends terrifying and powerful mutants?"

"Yokai, and, yeah. Does your Raph get weird when he's alone?"

"Wouldn't know, every time he tries to leave he's back before the end of the night."

"Wait, how often does he-"

"Twenty-eight times and counting now."

"Whoa. Really into teenage rebellion, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"What about your Donnie? How much of a mad scientist is he?"

"Hmm... what qualifies?"

"Just a general vibe can work, but wayward creations and concerning bouts of cackling add to it."

"In that case, definitely a mad scientist. He likes to pretend he isn't, but he is."

"Mine just owns up to it. I'm a little surprised yours doesn't, he seems way more emotional than mine."

"Oh, Donnie's the most emotional of all of us for sure."

"So weird! Does he call any of his inventions his children, though?"

"The Shellraizer. He called it his 'Baby' when the Kr- when New York got taken over."

"Appriciate the trigger avoidance, mi hermano honorario. Is your Mikey the chef?"

"Ugh, not by our choice. I don't know if I'd call it 'Food' most of the time."

"Really? Mine's like, a world-class fancy foodie."

"Huh. ... Did he have an idol who betrayed him and became a mutant?"

"YES OH MY GOSH! he loved Meatsweat's cooking show so much, and now the guy like, won't stop trying to hurt us!"

"For us it was another ninja, Chris Bradford. He secretly worked for Shredder and betrayed Mikey after pretending to be his friend."

"... Your universe is super dark, you know. I mean, we've had our low moments, but you seem to have low moments every day."

"... Yeah. It... it's been rough."

"Well, as New Leader of my team and thus your leader-ly equal, I'm taking you all somewhere to relax."

"What?"

"Shhhh, it's already happening and you can't escape it. Just need to text my brothers and April andddddd YES okay they're all doing the same, prepare to be the most chilled out you've ever been, my friend."

"Yeah, um, that doesn't ever work out for us, really."

"Ah, but mi amigo, you're in our dimension now! And sometimes, we are able to have a nice day with very minimal problems! So let's do it!"

"... Alright, we can try. But I'm still bringing my weapons."

"Well, duh we're bringing our weapons, I'm not an idiot!"

"No, you're just what would happen if someone mixed me with Mikey and Casey."

"Having met both of them I'm taking that as a compliment. Now let's go!"

[seirei-bh]

Resolving Ashelin plot holes in Jak 3

I originally wrote all of this essay in a Word document for myself, trying to find various possible solutions for those plot holes, as something for my fanfic, but since I've spent months thinking about it and trying to figure it out on my own, I wanted to share my entire struggle with these issues here with the fandom too XD because maybe they could help to some people who also writes fics or we could just share opinions about it.

The plot holes were big and I don't know how they could have gone unnoticed the first time I played Jak 3, omg~

Ashelin's main problems and plot holes were:

1) Ashelin knew that Damas was still alive, but she didn't tell anyone.

2) Ashelin knew that both Jak and Damas belonged to the House of Mar since she gave the Seal of Mar to Jak in the oasis, and because she knew Damas before he was banished, but she never mentioned any of this to either Jak or Damas. Maybe she didn't know for sure that The Kid of the Underground was Damas's son, but she could have at least deduced that they were family and that Damas could be his uncle or something similar.

3) There is no explanation about how Ashelin managed to find out that Damas was still alive after his banishment, how she found him, and why Ashelin had a beacon to call him (the beacon she gave to Jak at the beginning of the game).

4) Ashelin had the power to directly dissolved the Grand Council without any problems, but she didn't do it before Jak was banished.

Okay, let's first resolve the issues regarding Damas:

1) The first problem can be solved simply by Damas making Ashelin promise that she would never tell anyone that he was still alive, so Baron Praxis wouldn't try to go find him, kill him, and wouldn't find out Spargus's existence. And she didn't tell this to the Underground either probably because Damas was already king of Spargus when Ashelin found him and he had no intention of ruling Haven again.

This issue actually could have been solved just with a line of dialogue and it's something at least to can imagine easily, but the other two problems are more difficult to solve, especially the second.

2) I can understand why Ashelin didn't tell Jak about Damas being his family at the beginning of the game because she was busy fighting a civil war and ruling a ruined city, also because she needed Jak to return to the city, and also the promise she (maybe) made to Damas. But she had had other opportunities throughout the game to mention it to Jak after Jak met Damas in the desert, or at the very least to tell him that Damas was perhaps his relative, without specifying why or how. I can also understand that it would be very difficult for her to explain the whole time travel mess to Damas, but still, it's no reason not to at least tell Jak. Or to tell it to Samos, Keira or Daxter, because they are the ones involved in the time travel and the characters closer to Jak since his childhood, so some of them could help her to explain all that to Damas. So a possible option that I have thought of is that Onin told Ashelin that she should not say anything so as not to intervene in the fate that the Precursors have in store for Jak. It's still a cheap excuse, but Onin is the character who always seems to know more about the future than everyone else. So my final conclusion was that Onin convinced her not to tell Jak, while Damas convinced her not to talk about his own existence to others or reveal that he was the king of Haven City. Besides in this way Onin's role in this game would be useful, lol, because I swear she got the same writing problems than Keira.

p.s.: I've read somewhere that some people think that Ashelin never told him just so that Jak would return to Haven City and not stay in Spargus, but Ashelin is not a villain like her father nor a manipulative person (that's Rayn, lol .And Onin-Pecker-Samos too in some way, but only for the greater good) so I doubt it. As I said it could have been a believable excuse at the beginning for tense moments in the war and having to take drastic decisions, but not throughout the entire game. She's a good person, dammit. However I admit this could have been an interesting idea but only with a better and longer writing and with a proper character development of both or the to create more drama and tension between Jak and the City, and even a reflection for Jak himself on whether he should put his personal affairs above the good of others or if the right answer is the opposite, and a post conversation with Damas about this and what means to be a hero and a ruler...

3) Now we are going to try to solve the third problem… here I came up with three options: A) Ashelin gave Damas that beacon so that he could tell him that he was still alive and Damas activated it only years later to ask for help at some point . B) Sig, any other wastelander spy or even Damas himself, went to Haven City and asked Ashelin directly if she knew anything about The Kid's kidnapping, and then they stayed in touch because she promised she would try to find out where the kid was. C) Ashelin ventured into the desert at some point before Jak2 events or sent someone to look for Damas to see if he was alive and perhaps ask him to return to the city, which he refused, but Damas still gave her a beacon to keep in touch because he appreciates her.

4) Now there is the matter of the Grand Council. Well, this isn't exactly a plot hole, it's lazy writing XD There's no logical excuse in the game, unless at that time Ashelin had more power than before for unexplained reasons or just scrapped democracy and became a dictator like her father, lol. She also might have gained more political power over the war issue, but this is conjecture. Personally my decision with this has been to change this completely in my fanfic for another type of more coherent path, so Ashelin would not have the power to resolve the Council just like that in that scene, but she would have to balance the power later and gradually take power away from Veger (I didn't post the chapters with that subplot yet, so I won't be very specific, but it is based on Ashelin gradually acquiring more power and influence among other politicians in a slower, but also more rational and cunning way, GoT style~)

As a side note, we also have the issue that they completely removed the romantic relationship supposedly established between Torn and Ashelin at the end of Jak 2, and replaced it with Ashelin with Jak, forgetting about Keira's existence as well, but that's not exactly a plot hole either, it's forced rewriting, and at least it was solved in Jak X.

OOHH, and there is a problem also related to her design, and I'm not only referring to her soldier uniform is totally sexualized and that's not funtional for a soldier either for a ruler who wants to be respected, but there is also other problem: she still wear the symbol of the old KG on the shoulder, while she should be wearing the symbol of the Freedom League, and probably also some blue/yellow colors instead of only red.

Well, that's all... it's amazing how I used to think the biggest problem with Jak 3 were the writing of Keira, Errol and the Dark Makers. Because the more you write, the more you find plot holes with other characters and subplots.

[rmelster]

The Tudors “Margaret” Tudor and purposeless character assassination: A rant.

(This is today’s rant subject, “Margaret” Tudor. Of course, no hate to Gabrielle Anwar, the actress that portrayed her; she has far better roles than this… Bitter princess)

“ICONIC” MARGARET?

(Some) People find it brutally empowering to see this refined lady murder her husband. And certainly, they first present her a very undesirable situation where we cannot do nothing but to be biased in her favour: We have a handsome gentleman of noble birth named Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk (played by the equally handsome Henry Cavill), who she has the hots for, and then, this dying, stinky pervert (Manuel I, King of Portugal) that we don’t know exactly why had she married (specially since, both historically and in the show, he had already a vast, healthy progeny). She has to bear with this torture until she says “no more of this” and decides to smother the king and hastily marry the Duke of Suffolk, her true love.

Well, this is when we get three big things wrong:

Firstly, murder remains an inexcusable crime in most of the cases. Imagine a young man killing his elderly wife in that same way. “But men have more authority and bodily autonomy!” It’s. Still. Murder. Henry VIII killed his wives (and many other innocent women both related and unrelated to him) to get with the woman/en he wanted, and we loathe him for that; but in this show, Margaret kills her husband to go back to Suffolk’s torrid embrace, (some( people find it iconic, girlboss, empowering.

Secondly, The Tudors is guilty of the punishable mistake of disguising lust as “passionate love”. We see it in Henry VIII / Anne Boleyn, and we see it in Margaret / Suffolk too. We soon learn that Margaret and the Duke have little to nothing in common, and that they spent most of their times fighting or separate (time that he idly spends in getting under the farthingales of ladies and trying to woo more women above his possibilities, just like the married and very fictional queen Claude of France). Just because he says “I’m sorry” before her grave that doesn’t make this a tragic love story.

Thirdly, she is no empowered character that we should take example of. Even after “freeing” herself from the King of Portugal, she spends most of her time bemoaning her life and the marriage she killed for. And that scene of her disapproving her brother’s “unnatural” divorce by saying: “Oh, I won’t step into a court where a whore rules”. Miss, you literally bedded Suffolk before marrying the King of Portugal, then mercilessly killed your husband, then brought Suffolk back to warm your black widow’s bed and smugly told your brother. Your actions are as bad as Henry’s.

FANCY PRINCESSES DON’T WEAR THAT

As it happens whenever I encounter some The Tudors costume, I felt the dread of seeing clothes that neither of them would have ever worn. Margaret’s dress could have been very cool, but certainly, it had something that I didn’t enjoy. Her hairstyle, as pretty as it is, wouldn’t have been possible nor fashionable in those times, since she would have worn a proper headdress.

(This is a latter impression of Gossaert’s Wedding Portrait of the Dukes of Suffolk, which portrays the real Margaret, whose name was actually Mary, and the real Charles Brandon)

As you can see, the show counterpart misses a proper headdress, jewellery and the French gown that we are so used to see in Mary. She also seemed to borrow a crown from her sworn enemy Anne Boleyn apparently (in the show). I read in the WiKi that Margaret is a rebellious soul that wears unfashionable clothes, which highly contradicts the fashionable Mary Tudor, who brought the French fashions to court. Her clothes in the masque (everyone’s, actually) are highly historically inaccurate, and it is giving cheap copy of Fifty Shades Darker.

WILL THE REAL QUEEN PLEASE STAND UP? Manuel I of Portugal indeed remarried with a young princess, but this wasn’t any Tudor princess, but an Hapsburg one: Her name was Eleanor of Austria, and would become a widow three years of marriage and two children together after. Who Mary Tudor actually married was the King of France, Louis XII, who lacked male heirs (he only had two surviving daughter, the future Queen Claude, and Renee of France) who was fifty two when she was eighteen. And, despite making her brother swear to allow her to remarry in case she widowed (which is far more reasonable than what she did in the show), she was actually pretty kind to her sick, elderly husband, and he was very pleased with her too. Within months of marriage, he sent a letter to King Henry VIII calling him “brother” and expressing his upmost pleasure to be married to her. Mary may have been aware since her childhood, seeing her older siblings marry strategically into the Royal House of Scotland and Castile - Aragon, that she would suffer the same fate, and that she would have to be strong and a worthy sovereign to whatever kingdom she would be bound to reign; though I wouldn’t be so bold to say that she eventually loved him, Mary didn’t openly show her disgust to the king and treated him nicely. He suffered a long and painful agony due to his gout and died barely three months after marrying Mary. She spent some cautionary time in France, in case it was proven that she was with child, and then left.

Princess Mary Tudor, firstly Queen of France and later Duchess of Suffolk, was a pretty interesting character that was slain by the poor writing of the show runners, whose main focus revolves around her (quite unhealthy) sexuality and her good looks; then, after having her becoming a “burden” to Suffolk, they hastily had her killed and, after giving him some cheap ass redemption by looking mildly sad in her funeral (when he was literally bedding another woman as she agonised)m the next chapter comes and he already had set his eyes on his ward (which is nearly an adopted child, but with personal interests). Ironically, the true Charles Brandon had originally betrothed Catherine Willoughby to his son, then married her roughly two months after Mary’s demise; she was fourteen, and he fourty nine, making him thirty five years her senior, which in the show they dismiss quickly. Their age gap was one year bigger than that of the true Mary and Louis XII, but, quite the contrary of the first one, they never dare to make it undesirable in the show. Hypocrisy, I think.

[dragonologist-phd]

Owlcatober Day 2 - Favorite Food

also on ao3

Mercury prepares her favorite meal of the day, with some help from her newest party member.

It’s a gorgeous morning, and Mercury greets the day just as it deserves- with a bright smile and a sizzling fresh breakfast.

Her companions are, as usual, a little less than appreciative of the cheery, auspicious start to the day. They’ve griped about it before- something about not wanting to be awoken at sunrise by the sound of banging pots- but honestly, what kind of mercenaries sleep in? Adventures always begin at the crack of dawn, not the crack of noon.

Fortunately, they’ve all had time to get used to each other’s habits by now, and at this point the complaints seem more habitual than sincere. In any case, Mercury’s found that the smell of cooking pancakes is enough to wake up even the laziest of bones.

The newest addition to their team, however, simply looks confused on his first morning with the party.

Nok-Nok wrinkles his nose as he peers over Mercury’s makeshift kitchen, taking it all in with wide, wary eyes. In a growly voice, he demands, “What sidekick doing?!”

“The name’s Mercury,” Mercury tells the little goblin for the umpteenth time. “And I’m making breakfast, of course!”

“She’s a morning person,” Octavia groans. She turns in her bedroll and buries her head under her blanket, accidentally stealing it from Regongar in the process. “A loud one. You get used to it…eventually.”

Mercury rolls her eyes at the overdramatic response to being woken up at a perfectly reasonable hour by a few clanging pans. “Everybody complains about the noise,” she points out, “but nobody complains about the pancakes.”

“But why smell like that?” Nok-Nok demands again. “Not how food supposed to smell!”

It smells perfectly fine to Mercury, but she leans closer and breathes deeply just in case. Nothing- just the sizzling dough, tinged with fruity sweetness.

Valerie scoffs from her position across the camp. She’s the only one of the party who rises even earlier than Mercury, and she’s also the only one who opts for dried travel-ready nonsense over Mercury’s handmade meals. The knight narrows her eyes suspiciously at the breakfast and remarks, “He’s probably smelling the remnants of your potions.”

“Come on, Val…” Mercury protests, only to be cut off.

“I told you not to call me that, just as I told that until you begin cleaning out your vessels properly, I will be providing meals for myself.”

“Fine, Valerie, suit yourself. But it’s fine, Nok-Nok, I promise. It’s my specialty- an old family recipe for pancakes with fruit and maple syrup. It’s my personal favorite, too, you’ll love it.”

“That why it smell funny,” Nok-Nok cries, pointing a hand accusingly at the cooking food. “No meat! No meat is no meal!”

“Oh…” Mercury can’t say she agrees with Nok-Nok’s declaration, but she’s never traveled with a goblin before. She should have guessed that she’d have to account for differences in diet. Her mind spins through the different possibilities to address this oversight. “I’d make bacon, but we don’t really have any raw meat on hand. Doesn’t travel well, unless you’ve got the spells for it- oh, I think we’ve got some jerky left! I could serve that on the side, or maybe tear it up and combine it with the toppings-”

“No good!” Nok-Nok says firmly. “Sidekicks need fresh meat, get big and strong like Nok-Nok. I go find meat for everyone.”

“You sure?” Mercury asks. “We’ve got plenty food otherwise, and I don’t think you’ll find much around here aside from a few squirrels.”

Nok-Nok claps his hands happily. “Squirrel perfect! You see. Nok-Nok get best breakfast.”

Mercury considers the eager goblin, then finally reaches a decision and gives a nod. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll eat whatever you bring back, if you at least try this.”

She fishes out one of the cooked pancakes out of the pan and spreads it on a cheap clay plate. After that comes the grilled fruit-apples today, they’re in season and they pair wonderfully with maple sugar. Last, but arguably most importantly, she finishes the whole thing off with a generous drizzling of syrup.

Perfect, she thinks as she presents the plate to Nok-Nok. The satisfaction of an expertly prepared meal isn’t quite as invigorating as the satisfaction of an expertly prepared smokepowder bomb, but it might be the only thing in the world that comes close.

Nok-Nok watches the whole process with skeptical caution, but once presented with the plate he concedes to take a small, cautious bite- and he immediately recoils.

“Too sweet!” He declares. “Hurts Nok-Nok’s teeth!”

Mercury quickly pulls the plate back, but the goblin snatches it from her hands and takes another chomp. “Uck! Nasty!”

On it goes, as Nok-Nok quickly devours the pancake, protesting all the while. When he’s done, he shakes his head in disapproval and grabs his pair of rusty daggers. “I go get squirrel now! Better than this, you see!”

He grabs the cup of syrup before he runs off, and Mercury can hear the alternating noises of disgust and eager slurping as he scampers into the brush.

Valerie watches the exchange with detached bemusement. “You do realize you’re going to regret making that deal with him?” she says once he’s gone from sight.

“Nah,” Mercury says. “I think he’ll surprise all of us. Besides, the number one rule for both an alchemist and a chef is to always be on the lookout for new recipes.”

Even after Nok-Nok returns proudly with a skewered squirrel, which he then proceeds to burn to a crisp over the campfire, Mercury stands by her statement. Nok-Nok will be a valuable contribution to the team, she’s certain of it.

Just…maybe not as the team’s new chef.